[ CHAPTER 1 ]
[ BEAUTIFUL · COERCION ]
Author's note: This will be my first fan fiction in the Durarara! category. I do hope I can entice you into reading this story that I have quite proudly concocted.
Also, if you have the time then please, please, please (!) leave me a review, because it motivates me to keep on writing and lets me know that my works are being read by someone. So, I hope it's not too much to ask, but please if you can spare the time and effort leave me a quick comment to tell me what you think.
Warning: This fan fic will contain mature yaoi in future, so if you don't like it then don't read it and turn your attention somewhere else.
Somehow, no matter how hard he tried, Shizuo still could not believe his eyes. He had been staring at the man staring straight back at him for nearly 10 minutes now, and he still could not argue with the conclusion that this man's appearance was simply a cruel figment of his troubled imagination. Even when he had moved to a new continent, a new country, a new city, he was still there. He was always there and always watching. He was always waiting for some small piece of his plan to click into place, so he could spring to a high rooftop and gaze bemusedly at the trouble he stirred below. People began to stop and stare as they walked by the two men seemingly sizing each other up, when in reality all they were attempting to do was confirm that they had not somehow consumed a large amount of hallucinogenic drugs without knowing and were just seeing things. Eventually, the silence was broken between the two by the short, disbelieving laughter of the darker haired one.
"…ahaha…" was the quiet sound that fell carelessly from Izaya's lips. The small crowd that had now gathered to watch the men turned their gaze to the blonde man in the hopes of a response, and to their displeasure, no response came. The rivals continued to stare.
"Izaya…" said the blonde man eventually, in an uncharacteristically quiet manner, gripping tightly on the handle of his travel bag.
"Shizu-chan" the black haired man delivered a curt reply. His rival winced at the nickname.
"Why are you here?" Shizuo asked almost silently, and yet Izaya could still understand him perfectly clearly. Perhaps it was because they knew each other so well, or perhaps it was because they hated each other so much. Either way, Izaya took a moment to formulate his response.
"I was about to ask you the same thing, actually." The dark haired man chimed in his typical whimsical manner, setting off a chain reaction of memories in Shizuo's mind. The good times mixed with the bad times, like a poorly stirred bitter sweet cocktail with an irrevocably sour aftertaste. Suddenly, and without any warning whatsoever, Shizuo lunged toward Izaya with invisible speed, and in a swift movement managed to successfully grapple the slightly smaller man and hold him up so that his feet dangled loosely beneath him. Izaya grinned that beautifully sickening grin.
"I never thought you'd hold me like this again…" the dark haired man sung loudly before dropping his voice to an immensely lower volume and finishing his sentence: "…you bastard." Shizuo gritted his teeth, and tightened his grip on the collar of Izaya's T-shirt.
"Why are you here? What happened to Ikebukuro?" Shizuo demanded, shaking Izaya violently and making the crowd around them gasp loudly. Izaya's grin still spread widely across his face, stubborn and unmoving.
"I just missed you soooo much, Shizu-chan." The darker haired man said melodically, reaching his hands up to grip the hands that held the cuff of his shirt. Shizuo didn't buy it, and shook Izaya once more.
"Stop your games, Izaya! Why are you here? Tell me!" the blonde man screamed into his rival's face and still his grin did not falter, and still he did not flinch.
"Why don't we go and talk about in private, Shizu-chan? You're stirring a larger scene than I could have anticipated you would." Izaya maneuvered his face within inches of Shizuo's, achieving the frantic breath of the blonde haired man's frustration on his face.
"You know I won't do that." Shizuo whispered under his breath. Izaya raised an eyebrow, his grin still painfully intact.
"Oh? And why is that?" The darker haired man asked quizzically in mock confusion.
"Because you'll just find a way to get me into your bed for the hundredth time." Shizuo whispered, staring at his shoes. Slowly, Izaya was lowered to the ground. The darker haired man brushed off his clothes lightly before gazing at Shizuo inquisitively. The blonde haired man continued to stare at his feet. Even though Izaya was the master of predicting the actions of human beings, he still could not always be right about his own fate, and he had to admit that the bustling streets of New York was the last place he ever expected to see his rival of the past. Izaya had considered what would happen if they were to meet once more, and the state of Shizuo's character was also something he had not anticipated. The fact that the blonde haired man could no longer stare his rival's eyes down anymore with that ridiculous strength of his, the fact that the legendary Heiwajima Shizuo that used to stir fear in the hearts of anyone unlucky enough to piss him off, was standing completely broken in front of him was nothing short of astounding.
The crowd that had gathered to watch their reunion slowly dispersed when it was quite clear no more action would take place. Izaya gazed into Shizuo's eyes that did not gaze back, and made some mental deliberations. Shortly, the smaller man placed a hand on the taller man's shoulder, causing him to discontinue his staring contest with the floor and finally return his gaze. They searched each other's eyes, faced with the debate they never thought they'd have to experience ever again: was this love, or was this hate? Izaya sighed.
"You're fresh off the boat, right? Figuratively speaking, anyway." the darker haired man asked pointing to Shizuo's abandoned travel bags, a more serious tone decorating the voice escaping his mouth. Shizuo nodded. "Alright. Come on, then." And with that, Izaya spun on his heels and began heading in the opposite direction. Against all his inner orders not to go with the man that turned his life upside down, Shizuo's feet moved of their own accord, picking up his travel bags and following after his old rival.
···
His keys clattered into a keyhole, and Izaya opened the door to his luxurious apartment and stood aside to let Shizuo pass him through. The blonde man instantly cursed himself after stepping through the archway, but there was no turning back now. The darker haired man moved to shut and lock the door, before taking his shoes and jacket off and tossing them lazily onto a coffee table that stood beside the front door. Shizuo reluctantly shrugged off his own jacket, and placed it instead on the coat rack that stood against the hallway wall, and placed his shoes underneath it and his bags next to them; marking himself very clearly as a guest and nothing more.
Izaya watched his rival do this from his state-of-the-art kitchen whilst he filled a pot of coffee, and set it off to brew. He then leaned against the island counter and gazed at Shizuo curiously. Shizuo glared back, irritably.
"So. Have you figured out a plan to get me out of my clothes and under your sheets yet?" Shizuo asked bluntly. Izaya chuckled quietly, the grin that had momentarily vacated his face returning in a flourish.
"Actually, I was hoping you'd be halfway through sticking your tongue down my throat by now." Shizuo winced, and stared at Izaya blankly. "Kidding. If I didn't know you any better, Shizu-chan, I'd say you were hoping I say that I have thought of one."
"Shut the fuck up." The blonde man said casually, running his fingers through his hair and making his way toward the lounge set that faced the city-gazing windows. The darker haired man chuckled again.
Shizuo took a seat on the long and luxurious lounge suite, hanging his elbows over the back of the couch and staring contemplatively out the enormous windows. It didn't take much to come to the conclusion that Izaya was having just as much success being an information dealer in New York as he was in Ikebukuro, judging from the exquisitely furnished penthouse apartment Shizuo had been so willingly coaxed into entering.
There were two floors to the apartment, the other one being led up to by a mahogany spiral staircase. The floor he currently occupied was a large open-plan space, with the kitchen, lounge and dining spaces all in one elegant sweep. Off to his left, Shizuo saw a hallway decorated with two or three doors that most likely led to a bathroom, study and guest bedroom. He concluded that the open upper floor, shielded only by large sheets of glass for walls, was the place where Izaya slept himself (that is, if the demon was even capable of sleeping). The blonde man then made a mental note to never set foot on the last step of that staircase.
It was then that Shizuo also felt a pair of cold hands slide down his chest through the wide collar of his shirt, and his reaction was violent. Shizuo flung himself forward, rising to his full height before turning around and foolishly turning his back to the coffee table in the middle of the lounge suite which he proceeded to ungracefully trip over. His back crashed against the floor, expecting much more force than was met when he remembered the floors were a plush shag carpet. The clattering racket Shizuo had caused was swiftly followed by the shrill cackle of the owner of the apartment, who was bent over double in his fit of laughter. It didn't take long before Shizuo was back on his feet, and had Izaya's neck tightly in his grasp. Even when the darker haired man's life was literally in the hands of the blonde man he hated so much, the smile never wavered from his face.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Shizuo hissed into Izaya's face, searching his eyes aggressively for some kind of motive or reasoning that he could understand. But the blonde man forgot that this was his arch nemesis he was trying to understand; a man with no morals and little to no sanity.
"You're funny to watch when you're on edge, Shizuo! And you're even funnier to watch when I know you secretly want to fuck me like there's no tomorrow." A balled fist smashed into his cheek for that comment, and he was flung out of Shizuo's grasp and across the room from the force of the punch. The darker haired man hit the wall and fell down onto the floor, leaning up on an elbow and covering his face with his other hand. There was a moment of silence, where the blonde haired man thought he had finally succeeded in shutting Izaya up for one moment in his life. But the silence was broken by the darker haired man's quiet chuckle. Fuming, Shizuo stormed over to the coat hanger, grabbed his jacket and travel bags and swung the door open, flying through the open archway.
Shizuo made his way to the elevator and punched the button to call the elevator several times in quick procession. It wasn't long before Izaya leaned out the doorway and yelled after him.
"Shizu-chan, you didn't even drink your coffee yet!" he sung loudly from the archway.
"Go to hell, Izaya!"
"You can run, Shizu-chan, but you can't hide from me. You'll be back!" Izaya yelled whimsically after Shizuo as he stepped into the elevator and pummeled the button for the ground floor. All he could think of was how much he had to get out of there; how much he had to get away from Izaya before he could pull him back into the chaotic underworld that was their ambiguous and turbulent relationship. He told himself; promised himself he wouldn't ever return to this floor once the elevator arrived at its destination. But a small part of him at the back of his mind disagreed with himself, argued with himself, and told him that this would by no means be the last time Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya saw each other.