princeship | (no subject)

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Breakfast for him normally consisted of whatever the hell Shizuo had in his fridge that wasn't a hugeass slice of cake, and a cigarette. Contrary to popular belief, Delic did not simply wake up bringing sexy back (though on some days, he'd be willing to argue that statement), so after he had a bite to eat he's usually relocate to the bathroom to primp himself up for the day.

Today's menu was something that looked barely edible, a glass of orange juice and some crackers. He really would have to goad Shizuo into shopping, he remarked lazily as he crunched away and lit up his first cigarette for the day. The nicotine eased a flood of awareness down his throat, eyes closing to relish the moment, and the first exhale was pure heaven. Pink smoke spiralled languidly in the air, and he busied himself with poring over today's ratty old newspaper as he alternated between eating and smoking.

With the way his blond hair stuck up in odd angles he was the spitting image of Shizuo, even with the pink silk boxers stretched across his crotch. A noticeably pinker Shizuo, but anyone who saw him now would think that he was Ikebukuro's Strongest, and he'd be hard-pressed to argue otherwise. This early, he really didn't want to do much of anything except go back to sleep. But alas, bills had to be paid, and food bought, and women had, and ---

A knock at the door startled him out of his reverie and he glanced up. Just who would...?

Ah, well. Shizuo wasn't home, and he doubted the blond would be very happy if Delic ignored whoever came to call. Might be someone important, and all. So he'll just set his cigarette down and pad in all his pink-boxer glory to the door and pull it open.

"Yeah..?"

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"Okay!" Psyche salutes Izaya before marching into the bedroom, setting to search immediately around the suggested area. He takes care not to throw around Shizuo's underwear too obviously. The empty dresser doesn't offer him any leads. Psyche sighs, already at his wits end, and flops back-first onto the mattress. The bed feels mighty nice and he's losing his motivation to keep searching. It's time for a due temper tantrum. "You find it!"

He's not really sure whether Psyche is talking to Izaya or himself, and so he automatically assumes it is the one most beneficial to him. Mainly, the one that doesn't have him pawing through Shizuo's things because God knows what he would find there.

Probably just regular underwear and socks, but hey. Izaya wasn't doing much of anything anyway. Delic was supervising.

Shooting off a cocky grin at Izaya that should have been outlawed in at least ten districts, he makes his way over to the bed to smooth down the rumpled coverlet and takes up a seat next to Psyche.

"Hey. You know what. All that unresolved stress isn't good for you. You probably can't find it cause you're stressed, Psyche." Inhale, exhale. Another stream of pink smoke joins the steadily thickening fog over their heads.

"Know what I'm saying?"

Izaya returns his smirk with an incredulous look and an exasperated sigh. "If you're saying that I should be the one shuffling through Shizu-chan's dresser, you're obviously delusional. That's his putrid clothing, not mine, and it was Psyche's MP3 player that was lost. I'm not your nanny." He turns his gaze towards the other brunet. "You do know what the word responsibility means."

Frustrated and fed up with their tomfoolery, the informant makes an earnest effort to exit the bedroom and the apartment proper. "Don't straggle too much, Psyche, if you want to get back to my home safely."

Psyche sits up with a squint to his eyes. That thing about stress might have resonated within him. Maybe. Before Psyche realizes it, the squint is gone and whatever epiphany he was about to have was lost. He just looks up to Delic, his last hope in this apartment filled with everything except what he's looking for, and asks, "really?"

He jumps off the bed and snatches Izaya's sleeve, attempting to herd him close to Delic. "Wait! Not yet! I think Delic might be right. Iza-chan is really stressed too, right?"

Psyche changes his glance back to Delic, this time fixed with a sort of acceptance and eagerness to give the advice a try. "Iza-chan will deny it but I know he's stressed!"

Of course it did, you are practically a part of Izaya. He would be surprised if there wasn't a little bit of the brunet resonating within him. That was the same with all of the others; he had some of Shizuo's strength, Tsugaru had a little of his calm... There were probably more, he just couldn't really recall them at the moment. Not when he was hooking an arm around Izaya's shoulders and practically shoving him into the mattress facefirst.

"Man, Izaya, I think we gotta get rid of all that tension. It's probably you're fault we can't find Psyche's mp3." He finally puts out the cigarette on the little char mark on Shizuo's dresser. Setting his hands on his hips, he turns to Psyche and issues a single command:

"Strip 'im."

Izaya wouldn't disagree that Delic and Shizuo shared the same disgustingly animalistic brute strength that had him nearly suffocating into the mattress. Of course, the sound of the host's order rendered him even more breathless and speechless.

His speech muffled by the cushioning beneath him, the informant pleaded, "Don't listen to him, Psyche...!" Even as a whisper the anger in his voice could be tasted as much as the menthol puffing out into the air. "You won't let him humiliate me like this, will you?!"

"Really? We're doing that?" Psyche practically sing songs, not even protesting as he jumps on Izaya's waist and sets to removing the jacket. The options aren't many and while it wasn't the first thing on his mind, he can actually conceptualize the merits of this "stress relief". Psyche might toss away the fur-lined jacket carelessly but there's only warmth in the way he snakes his arms around the informant's chest. He bumps his nose against Izaya's neck nearly lovingly but there's an edge in his tone when Psyche whispers into his ear, "we're going to help Iza-chan and then Iza-chan is going to help me. So let's do our best, ne?"

"Naturally."

There isn't really much for him to undress, since he's already practically buck-ass naked. For all his innocence, Psyche certainly was a minx in bed, he mused, something he'd been kind of disappointed he never got a chance to witness firsthand. Damn Tsugaru.

If he played his cards right, maybe that was an experience he'd be able to cross off his bucket list. Two of them, actually, because hell if taking on Iza-chan and Psyche at the same time wasn't one of his basest fantasies.

"Just relax, Iza-chan. We'll take good care of you."

Like he could relax. Izaya had the faintest sense of regret once he had stepped onto the train to Ikebukuro, and this was not helping. He wants to throw Psyche off for manhandling him like this, and the knife sitting in his now discarded coat was too far for his own comfort.

"I don't trust either of you with that. One's lost something he considers precious, while the other is a conniving, sugar-coating host whose job is to falsely praise average women on a daily basis."

If there was anything he could still do, it was berate his sudden assailants. It was better than just sitting idly by as they looked on and his secretary wondered for a millisecond to where her boss could have run off.

"It's not about us, it's about you." Which was true, honestly, though naturally Psyche had something to gain, otherwise he wouldn't bother to take up Delic's advice. He snuggles his cheek between Izaya's shoulder blades. While one hand plays with the hem of his shirt and begins to tug it up, the other strokes up and down the sliver of exposed skin. "Just let us make you feel good."

Shifting his cheek just a little bit, he winks to Delic and peels one hand away to motion to him. "He's resisting!"

"There's no need to be jealous," At Psyche's wink he gives one of his own and makes his way onto the bed next to Psyche. "Hold his arms down.

Now, Iza-chan. Surely you're not shy, right? Cause, y'know," He grins again, cockier than ever. "We can always turn out the lights."

He reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out one of Shizuo's black ties. Ever careful not to stretch the fabric more than he needed to, he works it into a quick knot and hooks it around the brunet's eyes. He draws the knot up and seals it tight around Izaya's eyes with flourish.

"How's that? Better?"

On one hand, he didn't have to see either of their faces. On the other, he was quick to question what in the world he was up to. Not that the answer wasn't obvious enough, but just how this was going to follow through was what concerned him.

"Undo this blindfold this instant--!" Its smell made things all the worse. The nicotine and tobacco stained their way into the silk, became one with the fabric... and it was constantly attacking his olfactory functions. Izaya tried to keep fighting, but was near ready to resign to his fate.

"Psyche, do something to help..."

"But Iza-chan," Psyche whispers into his ear while licking along the cove and resting warm hands on Izaya's wrists, "I am helping."

A part of him actually believes it, feeling the warm pulse beat frantically beneath his fingertips. Izaya was too proud to admit that he needed this kind of touch sometimes and as far as lays, you didn't get much better than Delic -- or so it was rumored. He'd been slightly interested in how his technique fared compared to Tsguaru and as for Izaya, there was nothing Psyche ever felt shameful doing in front of his predecessor.

With a quick lick over his lips, he casts a quick glance to Delic and shifts to allow access to half of Izaya's body. He's not sure what the host has in mind but he's ready to comply.

Of course you didn't get much better than Delic, Psyche, don't even try to pull that. You'd wound him so.

His next movement has him moving around to Izaya's front and settling just before his head. He's careful not to get close enough for Izaya to hurt him, exposed as he is, but it is enough for him to lean forward and press both hands on the informant's shoulders and rub his thumbs into them soothingly.

"Damn, you are pretty tense, Iza-chan." He shares a knowing look with Psyche and makes a gesture for the brunet to peel Izaya's shirt off. Leaning back just a bit, he circles both hands under Izaya's chin and lifts up, both granting Psyche room to disrobe him and also giving him a chance to see Izaya's expression.

"With that child, it would be a wonder to not be tense."

The rub did relieve some knots-- sitting in the same position for hours straight was actually murder on his shoulders-- but there wasn't much more comfort to be had. He snapped his head away from the blond's hold... or tried to. The grip was firm enough to limit the mobility of his neck. Izaya grit his teeth in irritation, and furrowed brows were further evidence of such. Not being able to see made things all the worse, but his eyes would have been the firmest proof of his displeasure.

Psyche eagerly complies with Delic's gesture, fingertips ghosting Izaya's skin as he gently tugs his arms out of the sleeves and over the neck. He's careful not to shift the blindfold. It's his trump card until Izaya learns how to relax. He digs his fingers into Izaya's side roughly, immediately abandoning the Get Izaya to Relax plan. "That's not very nice, Iza-cha~an..."

It's hard to tear his eyes away from Psyche, especially when he's glimpsing a side of the pink-clad brunet he very rarely sees. Like this, Psyche could easily command all of the attention if he so wanted to, if only because this sudden shift in personality was so very different from the norm. He would be lying if he said he wasn't content to just lay back and watch Psyche and Izaya go at it, but then where was the fun in all that?

Besides, he mused as he worked a particularly tough knot with his fingers, getting Izaya to relax was probably a team effort. Shizuo was only able to accomplish such a thing because, hell, he was practically a team himself. There were no doubts as to the blond's stamina, and, if anything, Delic took such a thing as a challenge rather than a blow to his pride.

"Lube," he mouths to Psyche, and gestures to the nightstand. One of his hands departs from the task of massaging Izaya's shoulders to circle around to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the corners of his lips almost affectionately... before he pries the brunet's mouth open and shoves his fingers inside.

"As much as I know Shizuo loves to call you 'flea'," he rubbed his fingers purposely up and down the brunet's slick muscle, wetting them thoroughly. "I'm gonna have to ask you to just be 'Izaya' for today and not bite. Mmkay?"

The sudden intrusion causes Izaya to flinch a bit, he being taken aback by such a transparent breach of his personal space. Pulling away seemed almost impossible as the fingers not only moisten but also adamantly keep his head in place.

So he sits still. His face relaxes, no longer contorting in anger. He begins to follow along with Delic's fingers and traces his tongue along their bony structures. It isn't sloppy or noisy, and that combined with his rather astute hearing allows him to take note of the wooden shuffle caused by Psyche to one of his sides. His hand grasps at the blond's wrist, loosely, pulling at it to move out just enough to have one fleshy tip rest on his canine. His lips make the motion to suck softly, one might think, but inside clamps down firmly on the soft-hard finger. It reddens, but is one millimeter away from not bleeding.

"But I can nibble, right?"

Psyche rolls off to rummage through Shizuo's nightstand for the lubricant. He can't imagine Shizuo hiding it anywhere too inconspicuous, being the impatient kind of guy that he is. Psyche restrains the urge to shout, "Found it!" out loud but holds it up triumphantly all the same.

By the time he bounces back on the mattress, Izaya's lips are pillowing Delic's knuckles and all Psyche knows is that a little flush of heat flares up in his cheeks. Unlike the treasure hunt for Shizuo's lube, this isn't something Psyche can keep quiet about. He shoves the bottle at Delic, hovering over Izaya's face and trying to find space to wedge his fingers in. It's difficult when Izaya is attempting to make snacks out of Delic's digits. "That's not fair! Me too!"

"That hurts, Iza-chan." You couldn't really tell, though, considering he's still grinning as cheekily as ever. Go figure.

The pressure on his finger is eased up somewhat when Psyche bounces into view and crams even more into Izaya's mouth without hesitation. The host arches a brow, considering Psyche for a moment... then leans over and plants a quick peck on his lips, more out of praise than anything else.

"I think he's good and ready, Psyche." He draws his own hand out of Izaya's mouth and smears the saliva experimentally between his fingertips. "What do you think?"

"The same goes for you," he mumbles. The strain on his jaw was alleviated someone as Delic removed his hand. Izaya's own hand moved to cradle the pained muscles and tendons. At least, that could be said for the side that Psyche wasn't still pressing against. Izaya never thought for a second to clamp down on any of his fingers; he wouldn't here the end of his incessant crying.

He struggles to get the words, "Ready for what?" out of his mouth. The lack of sight heightened his other senses. As quiet as that peck may have been, the sound alone caused Izaya to tense up. His brow was tightly scrunched again, though for what reason he didn't know.

Psyche can't help but giggle at the sudden kiss. It was surprising in itself but also how chaste. Before that moment, Psyche wasn't sure if Delic could even kiss without using tongue. But it's sweet and quick and over too soon. He slips his own hand out of Izaya's mouth and trails it up one of Delic's moist fingers. After carefully consideration, he claps his hands together excitedly and purrs, "I think so too!"

Izaya's reflexively straining doesn't go unnoticed either. Psyche momentarily dips toward Izaya, lips hovering just above Izaya's. If there's a perk about suppressing Izaya's eyesight, it's toying with him like this. "Jealous?"

While he's speaking, he stands up his fingers on the tips and walks them over Izaya's waist. He undoes the button of Izaya's pants, tilting his head toward Delic and nodding.

"Oh please. Don't tell me Shizuo-kun doesn't kiss you?" Delic gave a mock gasp, but he's already easing Izaya up onto his knees, careful not to pull him too far away from Psyche's hold. They had a schedule to keep, after all.

Upon seeing that Psyche has nearly worked Izaya's pants open, he slides his saliva-coated fingers around the brunet's waist and wastes no time in delving down underneath the fabric of his underwear. He finds the taut hole without difficulty but, rather than penetrate the brunet straight-away like he wants to, he instead presses in to the little ring just enough for Izaya to feel it.... before pulling away and roughly squeezing his ass.

The space between their bodies has considerably lessened and he takes complete advantage of that to ghost his lips over Izaya's cheek. Hot breath pants across the informant's face, lips parting and trailing over Izaya's nose, cheek, brow, forehead... purposely avoiding his mouth. And if he does, it's just fleeting, a barely there pressure that would undoubtedly leave the informant wanting more, especially since he chose that moment to suddenly plunge his middle finger inside of him up to the knuckle.

"What's here to be jealous of...? And please. I'd never kiss Shizu-chan." Not like that, anyway. That kind of affection was too cloyingly sweet, just like that idiot's taste in snacks, and Izaya swore to himself nothing would or could convince him to do that to anyone ever. It was childish.

Izaya became more irate as the both of them continue to toy with him. The fingers, coated with his own saliva as he soon realized, felt far cooler against his skin than expected. He was comfortable enough with Psyche's touch, but the brief and slight kisses that Delic was raining upon him were met grunts of disapproval. The first attempt by the host to enter him was met with little but a slight tremble of his spine, but the second shook him enough to almost collapse against them both. His teeth clenched, and against his will those muscles tightened noticeably enough.

"Relax." Psyche's not one to make a display of authority but it comes out nearly as a command. He gently tugs down Izaya's zipper and eases the pants and underwear lower. It's apparent that Izaya isn't about to relax anytime soon so he joins Delic with peppering sugary sweet kisses on the pale skin. He starts with a kiss just over his brow, careful not to pull Izaya's garments more than halfway down the thigh for risk of making the informant feel exposed. He returns his hand between Izaya's thighs, taking hold of the warm length and attempting to coax it upright in gentle, careful strokes.