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happyandticklish · 7 months

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You Make It Hard to Breathe

Notes: The fandom has collectively decided that Izaya can't swim, and I've decided to run with it~

Summary: Izaya can't swim and Shizuo takes it upon himself to teach him how.

The sun beat down on him, a never-ending heat that was slowly but surely chipping away at Izaya’s psyche. He drew an arm over his face to try to block out the harshness of its rays, but light flickered in regardless making him squint. He was sweating. Sweating. Izaya Orihara did many things, but he did not sweat.

He flinched as a splash of water landed on his feet, drawing them back on his chair with disdain. “Do you mind?”

“That’s a lame move, you know,” the other man informed him at the edge of the lake. He had his arms propped up on the deck, kicking idly to keep himself afloat as he fixed Izaya with a grumbling stare. “You were the one who wanted to come here in the first place.”

“I enjoy the scenic view,” Izaya said idly. He had given up on fully blocking out the sun and chose to sit up instead, adjusting his towel underneath him. He should have brought sunglasses but it had been dark out when they left for the trip and he hadn’t thought to plan accordingly. It was unlike him, but the comfortability of packing in the morning with a sleepy Shizuo at his side had distracted him. The thought stirred a sense of prickling unease in him. It was only sunglasses, but it felt far too much like being off his guard. “Why would I want to splash around in disgusting mud water? It figures a beast such as yourself would enjoy these grotesque pleasures, of course.”

He flashed Shizuo a simpering smile, delighting in the glare it was received with. He turned back to his book, a collection of Russian poetry he had nabbed off of one of his rarer clients while they had been visiting the city. The page he had marked detailed out a short piece about the futility of life and the dread that came along with it. Cliché. Basic. Overdone. But the language was beautiful and there was nothing to say that Izaya couldn’t enjoy a more rudimentary read.

He was on vacation after all. The point was to relax.

Izaya wasn’t sure what had prompted the idea. Maybe it had been Shizuo’s insistence on clinging to him like a leech while he was trying to work, clearly bored out of his mind. Maybe it had been the overcast skies that sent a sense of gloom reigning over the massive apartment. Maybe he had simply wanted a change.

Shizuo hadn’t protested when he suggested the idea of a holiday vacation, merely raised a brow and scoffed in typical Shizuo fashion—that was his version of enthusiastic support. He hadn’t missed the glimmer in Shizuo’s eyes when they’d arrived at their outrageously small cabin, though. Izaya had to bite back a smile himself at how easily entertained he was. He didn’t allow himself to think that it was because the childlike fascination was cute, but Shizuo had figured it out if the sudden flush and averted gaze then had been any indication.

Now, he was finding that fascination annoying as several droplets of water landed on the top margins of his page. He sighed, tilting his chin down to meet Shizuo’s stare.

“Can I help you?”

“Get in with me.”

“And obtain the hundreds of diseases contained within that filth? I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

Shizuo frowned. For a moment, it seemed as though Izaya had dissuaded him, but in the next, Shizuo was gripping the edges of the boardwalk and pulling himself up in one fluid, wet motion. The water lurched at the displacement and Izaya drew back in his chair as it ran up against the wooden platform.

He yelped when Shizuo approached him, scrambling out of his chair to escape the dripping mess before him. “No, absolutely not, you are soaking wet. At least dry off first.” He snatched up the towel on the chair and shoved it into Shizuo’s chest, but the other ignored it, instead reaching out to wrestle his book away. Izaya put up a valiant defense but Shizuo was stronger than him and far less concerned about potentially ripping the pages than the former.

Finally, Shizuo emerged victor, clutching the book victoriously over Izaya’s head. “Who comes to a lake house to read, anyway? You can do that back home anytime.”

He tossed the book over on the remaining towels in the grass and Izaya winced. It did look mostly unharmed. Maybe a little wet, which he held every intention of complaining about later. Now, however, he was focused on survival as Shizuo—with zero warning he might add—scooped an arm under his legs, catching him off guard as he swept him into his arms.

He convinced himself that the racing of his heart was due to panic and nothing else.

“Shizuo,” Izaya said firmly as the other led him towards the lake. He tried to keep the edging panic out of his voice but the ebbing waves below them was making it hard to focus. “Shizuo, if you don’t put me down right now—”

“Than you might risk actually having fun for once?”

Shizuo was smirking, clearly not understanding the dire stakes they were facing. They were at the edge of the boardwalk now and Izaya yelped when Shizuo started to drop him, desperately clinging onto his neck.

Shizuo paused at that. “Everything alright, flea? You seem…” he struggled for the right word. “Unusually uncomposed.”

“If you had bothered to ask that earlier you might have realized that sooner,” Izaya hissed, hating how the combination of sweat and water on Shizuo’s back was making it difficult to get a firm grip. “I’m fine, I just don’t like the water, so if you could just—don’t!”

Shizuo’s hold had slackened once more experimentally. They both waited in the aftermath of the noise that could only be described as a shriek of terror.

“Izaya…” Shizuo started slowly. “Do you not know how to swim?”

Heat flashed across Izaya’s face. “Of course I know how to swim.”

“So, if I dropped you in right now—”

“Shizuo—”

“I will if you don’t tell me the truth.”

Izaya was silent for a long while. He wasn’t used to being on the other side of blackmail and he was not finding it to his liking. Shizuo’s stare was relentless, however, and the water rose in his vision in terrifying swells as it rode waves along the lake. He averted his gaze in what he hoped was nonchalance. “I just didn’t find it to be a necessary skill, is all. The whole concept of swimming is a ridiculous death wish anyway. Wading around in something that can kill you isn’t high up on my bucket list.”

Shizuo scoffed, rolling his eyes at the dramatics. Of course he wouldn’t be worried about something like this. Izaya had never met someone so unconcerned with their own safety. It would have been worrying if he hadn’t seen him survive all that he had—most of it inflicted by Izaya himself.

He ignored that particular twinge of guilt in favor of panic as Shizuo took a few steps back and then jumped into the shimmering water, Izaya still clutched in his arms.

The first thing he noticed was how cold it was. A freezing cold too, that shocked Izaya’s system as it tried to process the sudden temperature change. The second thing he noticed was how he was not able to breathe. He quickly slammed his mouth shut, trying to ignore the burning feeling at the back of his throat from all the water he had accidentally inhaled while shrieking. He kept his arms latched in a death grip around Shizuo’s throat as the latter’s worked to push their collective way to surface.

When they finally breached air all of five seconds later, Izaya gasped for much-needed breath, spluttering over the water clogging his throat. He was vaguely aware of Shizuo laughing in the background and he made a mental note to be offended by that once he was out of this freezing, over glorified bath.

“What was that for?” Izaya demanded indignantly once he could safely speak without coughing up saltwater.

“To show you that a simple thing like swimming isn’t going to kill you.” Shizuo raised a brow. “We’re not drowning, are we?”

They weren’t drowning, oddly enough. Through the reflections in the water, Izaya could see Shizuo’s legs idly kicking and keeping them afloat. One of his arms was preforming the same, lazy strokes as well, while the other curved protectively around Izaya’s waist. In theory, they were safe. This did not stop Izaya’s nails digging into Shizuo’s back from how tightly he was holding on, however. Shizuo barely seemed to notice.

“Shizuo,” Izaya said, forcing a casual, but firm tone of voice. “Put me back on the docks.”

“Not yet.”

“Not—?!”

“I want to show you that it’s fine. You’re going to have to learn to swim eventually, now is as good a time as any.”

Even as he said it, he kicked them a little closer to the shore, allowing Izaya to quickly reach out and grab onto one of the dock’s legs for safety. Evidently, he still had some humanity left in him.

“There, now you see—Izaya!”

It was a risky move and ultimately not worth it as Shizuo’s hand squeezed where it held on his waist, forcing an uncharacteristically panicked squawk out of Izaya.

The two froze for a moment, wading literally and figuratively in the aftermath of the unexpected sound. Then, Shizuo squeezed again. To his credit, Izaya merely let out a grunt this time, but it was too late—the damage had already been done.

“Swimming is an important skill,” Shizuo said, his voice coming out in a slow drawl that set Izaya’s nerves on edge. “You have enemies everywhere, flea, you really want them finding out that all it takes to take you down is a swimming pool and a lack of floaties?”

“I’ve survived this long.” Izaya hadn’t let go of the dock yet, torn between two insistent voices of instinct, one telling him to hold on for dear life and the other screaming at him that Shizuo’s hand was still wrapped around his waist—his stupidly sensitive waist.

“Luck. Luck that could fade.” Shizuo pressed his face into the crook of Izaya’s neck and the informant tensed, trying not to think about hot breath and teeth grazing his skin. “Let me teach you to swim or I’m going to tickle you until you’re suffocating from much worse methods than drowning.”

Izaya’s throat was dry. It was an impossible scenario. Being a pupil to someone like Shizuo in a scenario where failing could mean his imminent death was not his idea of a good time. On the other hand, the softness of Shizuo’s lips on his neck combined with the drumming fingers at his waist was frazzling his nerves with a giddy anticipation. The water seemed to make everything more sensitive too, his body already shivery and tense from the cold. Plus, tickling meant squirming, squirming meant Shizuo losing his grip, which meant Izaya sinking to the bottom of the lake and having his corpse nibbled on by some long-lost beast looking for a nice dinner.

He should never have suggested a lake house.

“Shizuo—”

Fingers, wiggling, scratching, spidering over his waist. His hand snapped back like a slingshot from the deck, moving to wrap around Shizuo’s neck instead. Fluttery giggles were escaping, and shit, he was breaking too fast, he normally had more resistance than this, the helplessness of this situation was not helping matters—

“Have you made a decision? You seem a bit antsy there, ‘Zaya.”

Izaya merely shook his head, burying his own face in Shizuo’s neck. He wanted to rip his hand away, but he didn’t want to disrupt Shizuo’s concentration on keeping them afloat.

On the other hand, it really, really tickled.

A kiss, then a bite into the crook of his neck, soft little grazes of teeth that made Izaya practically whimper as he attempted to scrunch up his shoulders. Shizuo’s fingers squeezed once more before crawling up and circling around his ribs, so close to the undersides of his arms that Izaya was going more than a little mad. He cursed himself for not wearing a shirt today even though he had held no ideations towards swimming when they had arrived. Still, the shirt he had brought had been stifling in the heat, and he had figured it couldn’t hurt. Now, he would have much preferred the heat.

Shizuo’s thumb dug into the divot of skin right above his top rib. Izaya yelped, unable to help the sudden burst of frantic thrashing the action caused. “We’re going to d-drown you ohoaf! Shit!”

“We’re fine, I’ve got you. Of course, if you knew how to swim, I would never be able to pull this move on you again.”

Izaya whacked a hand into his back at the comment, hard enough that anyone else might have released him. Shizuo barely seemed to notice, responding only with quick, scrambling fingers under his arms. Izaya’s face was a bright shade of red that spread quickly and obviously down his neck and onto his shoulders. He needed to stop the stream of breathless giggles that he couldn’t seem to get control over, but it was hard when each twitch of Shizuo’s fingers sent prickles of goosebumps sprawling over his skin (something he would later blame on the cold of the water when Shizuo pointed it out).

For a while, they stayed like that. Shizuo’s fingers, mouth, teeth, and tongue all working to send Izaya into a flustered, gasping, whining mess of laughter as he struggled to stay afloat. And yes, perhaps there was some part of Izaya that was enjoying how securely Shizuo was holding him, his strong arm tensed and confident around Izaya’s back, or how the thrill of laughter almost made him forget about swimming and water and all the diseases he had most likely accidentally swallowed when they first jumped into the water. Maybe. Maybe he could admit that, privately, to himself, later on when he was safe in bed and thinking back on the day. But for right now, his only goal was survival, which meant Shizuo stopping as soon as possible.

Eventually, it was Izaya’s own sensitivity that saved him. Shizuo’s arm had shifted so that his arm served as a seat (a much safer position with how much Izaya was moving around), and his fingers had experimentally found their way to his lower thigh where, fastening on in a tight grip, they squeezed and Izaya nearly jumped out of his skin with a screech of laughter. Instinct kicked in faster than strategy did, and Izaya’s knee jerked up into Shizuo’s chin, temporarily forcing him to let go.

Izaya had only a second to rejoice that Shizuo’s hands were no longer tickling him before realizing that this meant that Shizuo’s hands were no longer holding him either. Luckily, he was only underwater for a couple seconds. In a desperate flail, he managed to slam his foot into Shizuo’s chest, propelling him towards the docks—a move that only worked as Shizuo had mercifully remained within reach. He quickly grabbed onto the dock, pulling himself back to safety as he spluttered and coughed, trying to hack up the water he had accidentally inhaled in his momentary plunge.

Shizuo was laughing. Izaya had almost died and Shizuo was laughing. He rubbed the spot Izaya’s foot had landed with a hum of approval. “Nice reflexes.”

Izaya had thankfully managed to pull himself back on shore, where he retreated back to the safety of his chair, fumbling for his towel. “You almost killed me,” he hissed. There wasn’t any real venom in his voice though. It was more embarrassment than anything else.

Shizuo raised a brow at the claim. He remained in the water, perfectly content to tread the watery death trap. “I’ve done far worse without you so much as flinching. Besides, it’s not like you mind the tickling. Or have you forgotten that I know about that?”

Izaya pointedly did not look at him as he retrieved his towel, wrapping it around his shoulders. “I did not enjoy almost drowning because of it.” Not a confirmation or a denial, if the court played the sentence back.

He did not so much see as felt the eye roll from behind him. “Dramatic.”

“Brute.”

“Princess.”

Izaya sent him a withering stare. That particular insult (perhaps compliment, but Izaya refused to take it as such) was a new one, and one that Izaya was quickly finding not to his liking. He snatched his book up, settling back into his chair. Still in an okay condition, and the cool air had dried any bits of the pages that had gotten wet. He held the book up like a shield for his face as he noticeably did not respond.

Shizuo held up his arms in an expression of surrender, though the grin of amusement was still present on his face before he dove back under the water. As Izaya flipped a page in the novel, he hid his own smile, though his had a more affectionate value to it, despite the irritation.

Next summer, he decided, he would teach himself how to swim.

Shizuo would not be invited.

#tickle fic #durarara #izaya orihara #shizaya #shizuo heiwajima #durarara!!#tickling #fanfiction

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