Warning - Boy x Boy couple, don't like, don't read.

Hey guys ~ Just felt like writing up some good old Shizaya. Not really going to be many spoilers, I'm setting this pretty much after the anime, with Kida-kun gone and all that jazz ~

Disclaimer - I do not own Durarara! Or any of its characters. .. God knows I'd like to, though. xD

Brief thanks - To my wonderful beta, Otter and Fox. (sorry I fried your brains out, again !) This would have been a screwed-up story if you hadn't helped me out as much as you had ~ x3

The Friday had started out like any other for the bodyguard. Having spent most of his day patrolling with Tom for the usual cliche sleazebag with a hefty debt, Shizuo had been set free when Tom had called it quits and decided to go back to the office, telling him tiredly that he needed the break when the blond at first attempted to follow him.

Sighing and running a hand through short silken locks, Shizuo supposed that any other person would have enjoyed the break. But really, what does he have to do with his day, if he isn't working? No friends who could or would want to spend time dealing with him, no family, Kasuka was much too busy these days, and only a stray cat to keep him company in his small apartment- he didn't know what to do with himself. As much as he appreciated Tom's consideration of his well-being after working so hard for so long, he couldn't help but be slightly irritated by the reality set in front of him when given nearly a full day to himself.

He literally had no life outside of work. Day in and day out he walked by Tom's side only to frequently lose his temper, break things, and throw people. Wake up, protect, get angry, eat, sleep. That was all his days consisted of. He had become comfortable with this daily routine and hated when it was disrupted. Only on two occasions, he thought with a mild headache forming, was his peaceful life interrupted. Either by Tom's kind decisions to give him a free day that he could only spend by his self, or by the annoying, overly-cheerful presence of that flea, Izaya Orihara.

Just the thought of that louse caused a sudden rush of irrational rage to flow through his veins; his whole aura seemed to give off violence and unpredictable intentions to immediately cause the crowds of people walking around him to move further away and continue walking at a safer distance from the man who was well known for his raging temperament. That damn flea was always ruining his days; showing up randomly in Ikebukuro and running into him either by accident, or simply because he wanted to mess with the older man. Either way, it always ended the same. A short fight where public property would undoubtedly be abused, before a wild chase through the winding streets of the city caused havoc for the its unsuspecting inhabitants.

A strong fist - much stronger than any normal human's - clenched suddenly as a wild grin flew across what had been before merely tense features. "Izayaaaaa, I'm coming to kill you!" He yelled out in what could only be described as a feral voice which made the innocent and not-so-innocent around him cringe away from the strongest man in Ikebukuro and his dangerous rage. That damn flea- he had disrupted his peaceful days time and time again. Well, this time it would be his turn to screw up his day!

The blond didn't bother to think about the fact that he was committing himself to finding the man he hated most in order to momentarily chase away this hollow feeling he had in his chest. The feeling that could be so easily forgotten when murderous intent replaced it. Eating him inside out and only able to be ignored when he could occupy his mind with work or ridding the world of its largest burden; this loneliness was freezing cold. Chilling his insides, making his mind slow and panicked, he hated it. So much so, that he would go find the man who could so easily make his blood boil in order to chase it away for at least a little while.

He no longer saw a need to deny this blatant fact from himself. Lying in his bed at nights was the worst. Staring up at his ceiling, thoughts consuming him and making him on edge. Not even that damn stray cat could help those empty nights, as it had grown accustom to curling up happily at his feet. Shizuo Heiwajima hated this killing loneliness even more than he hated the informant. And that was saying something.

Pleased that he had something to do, something to distract his mind with, the man in the bartender suit walked with brisk steps down the sidewalks of Ikebukuro- occasionally yelling for the other to startle people into even going so far as to run away from him. This was, of course, because his promises to kill were accompanied by an almost monstrous smile and the reputation which had earned him his solitude. He was starting to become irritated. It was taking far too long to find the informant and kill him. Why was it that the other seemed to find him so easily, and yet he couldn't even catch a whisper of him when he was turning the tables?

Hands in his pockets, he glared casually about the milling crowds. It was beginning to fall into dusk as the sun had already become partially hidden behind darkly shaded buildings which loomed over the people of the city with a common sort of dreariness. Shadows soon took over the streets. With the shadows, came the vermin of the city; those whom the tall man felt he hated almost as much as Izaya. Always causing useless harm and pissing him off, they were on his I-will-kill-you-next-time-I-see-you list, right next to Izaya and that guy who wouldn't pay his debt from a day ago. There were still many hours left in the day, but lately things had begun to grow darker much more quickly. Or perhaps he only thought that because the buildings were so high and the people so dangerous?

Kicking an abandoned can once and not bothering to watch it as it flew at an incredible speed into a business where it knocked off a sign, he winced in appreciation - glad that he hadn't accidentally broken something. That's when he saw it. A group of about six or seven men, all about in their early twenties, were moving briskly and excitedly down a corner leading into a suspicious-looking alleyway. Normally, he would overlook a sight like that, it was so common, but one detail caught his eye and nearly gave him whiplash as he turned his head back to watch them disappear into the almost murky darkness. Was that a black coat with furry trim he had seen in the midst of them, being almost pushed and dragged into the isolated corner of this dirty city?

His feet automatically carried him in pursuit of the small group - not really thinking about what was happening between the group and his enemy, more allowing himself to be consumed in the rage that propelled him. He started running, crossing the street to enter the alleyway swiftly and without hesitation, fearing that if he took his time in approaching them, they would be able to shift out of his sight and thus allow his prey to escape. He froze where he stood at the very entrance and stared, his jaw dropping, at the uncharacteristic scene.

Izaya had his arms trapped painfully behind his back by a man two times larger than himself as the others stood around. Another man stood directly in front of Izaya, a hefty crowbar being played with almost delicately in his hands as he spoke to the broker in an arrogant tone.

"Thought you could escape us, Orihara? Ha, don't make me laugh! After what you did, there's no way we'd let you get off the hook just because of some help you gave us in the past." The red metal object bounced carelessly against his hand as he sneered at the smaller male who was being held forcibly before him.

Despite his situation, the red eyed man laughed in the face of the other, stating back in a cheerful tone, "Oh, I had no intentions of escaping! I had no idea that you'd be quite this stupid, though ~ That boss of yours really must want his gang to diminish, doesn't he?" The man with the crowbar started slightly at the younger's cocky words which so evidently mocked both him and his supporters.

"You should shut the fuck up kid! Do you even know the situation that you're in?"

"I most certainly do!" His voice remained cheerful and he seemed not in the least bit threatened as the man's crowbar lay still in a tensed hand.

"Then cough it up, Orihara. How did you find out about us? Who all did you tell about our plan?"

Izaya laughed loudly, a sound which reverberated between the close walls of the alley and caused the men around to become both concerned and annoyed. Shizuo, himself, had no idea what was going on. How the hell could the guy be so confident, when he was being so helplessly held in a ring of stronger guys - one of which was armed and ready to kill?

"Information costs money, you know! ~"

That was it for his interrogator. "Don't matter whether you tell us or not, we don't need you any more!"

The red crowbar, whose color now seemed slightly ominous, rose above the man's head in a perfect line to strike the top of Izaya's helpless skull. For once, Shizuo saw something flit across his features which was different from the usual arrogance and craftiness. It was both worry, uncertainty, and fear. Shizuo had never seen the charismatic younger male show such expressions before. Then again, he doubted anyone had ever trapped the restless annoyance and threatened him like this ever before.

"A - aaaah, wait!" He sang out, just as the bar had begun to fall slightly.

It froze, and Shizuo did, too, after realizing that he had begun to move foreword. It was a miracle that he had not been spotted yet. It was even more of a miracle that he had not yet blown his cover, being much too confused and almost awestruck by the scene unfolding in front of him.

The man smirked, his ugly features accentuated by the shadows and his own cruelty as he lowered the bar so that it seemed less threatening. "Got somethin' to say now that your life's on the line?"

Izaya chuckled, but it didn't seem to be filled with utter amusement as it usually did. Almost forced. "Not exactly ~ I just wanted to say that I maybe might be able to give you some information for free!"

Shizuo frowned, he didn't like this one bit. Being held against his will, utterly defenseless and outnumbered, none of it seemed fair or fitting. All of that, as well as the fact that the man who stood in front of the information broker stood overly confidently in front of the helpless man. He'd forced him into submission by use of dirty tricks, no doubt, and was now using his upper hand to get something out of Izaya that he wanted. People like him infuriated the blond; what made them think that they can just take what they want from people just because they were stronger!

Wait. This was Izaya he was thinking about. Izaya, the flea who he'd time and time again promised to kill, was the one who he was thinking about moving in and saving, which, he realized, was what indeed his muscles had been tensing for. Why?

"Oh yeah? Spit it out kid, we haven't got all day."

Izaya seemed so uncomfortable, so small in the grasp of the man behind him. Being held in one place like this really didn't suit him at all. Being ordered by another, and following those orders, was even less well-fit to his character.

Izaya seemed to look down as if to contemplate, chewing on his bottom lip slightly before looking up, eyes bright with a mischievous glint that told he was silently struggling against the grip of the large man behind him. "I've changed my mind! You baboons don't deserve the truth, nor could your unintelligent brains even begin to even understand it ~ "

His trademark cocky smirk was in place on those features of his before quickly, and easily, breaking away. Pain, confusion, helplessness - they all showed evidently to the blond as the man had mercilessly kicked into the small mans soft stomach. Izaya curled in, gasping for breath, as the man forced him to stay standing.

Shizuo moved, anger once again pulsing through his veins, though this time, unexpectedly, at a slow rate. As if his rage was controlled as his vision remained out of the red. He could control himself, and he knew what he wanted to do. This both confused and exhilarated him. Never had he been in control of his rage before - never had he been able to hold back his anger and violent tendencies in the face of what was causing him this deep irritation.

What was it, then, that was making him angry? Sure, scumbags like them would always make his anger flare up, but this was something different. Not only that, but they were threatening the life of the man whom he had always wanted dead. A good blow to the head would do the job.

Shizuo cringed as he thought about it - hand clenching harder on the cold metal of the sign pole as he could not help but imagine it. Izaya was not the same as him. Sometimes he let himself forget that when they were running around the streets in a game of cat and mouse. Perhaps he always allowed himself to forget that part because of how evenly matched they seemed during their little bouts.

The fact of the matter was, Izaya would die from a blunt force to the head. Arms held behind him so that he couldn't even draw a weapon or protect himself, Izaya was completely vulnerable. His eyes narrowed as he thought of that word in accordance with that flea. But it was the truth, wasn't it? He was still human, no matter how many things he did and said that seemed to directly contradict that. He could still die from something as simple as a hit to the head in just the right place...

His steps were deliberate, though quickly gaining in speed and calm as he moved closer. Despite the pain he must have been feeling and his evident loss of breath, Izaya was still smirking and chuckling as if he was the one in control and he had not just been nailed squarely in the gut.

"Idiots.. Need to do better than... Than that..." His voice was not as strong as he might have wished it to be, but it burned with the fire of a man too stubborn to give in to such parasites.

That got the man, who looked very much like the cliche gangster, mad, if he hadn't been already. Provoked and ready, the man rose the crowbar over his head and yelled, "Then I guess you're just askin' for me to get rid of ya'!"

Izaya seemed to falter at the words, even though he had been expecting them. His eyes widened as it seemed that he was noticing the weapon the other held for the first time. As the red object began to fall, he uttered a noise which combined both surprise and fear before he quickly shut his eyes and winced against the strike that would inevitably come upon him.

What the hell was with that? Since when did this guy stop talking just because his life was in danger? Even while Shizuo was swinging vending machines at him with deadly accuracy, he continued babbling. What was different about this time?

Shizuo decided that the time for watching was over, his muscles already beginning to react as the crowbar came down with a killing speed. Movements were a blur as he finally acted, throwing the sign of his like a spear to easily knock the red object out of the mobster's grasp.

He might have had control before, but now, consciously, he allowed his rage to take over. He didn't want to hold back against these guys. As terrible as this sounded, he wanted them to feel every ounce of pain he could inflict on them. How disgusting they were, to so readily and happily want to harm someone who looked so damn pathetic without a smirk on his face and a knife in his hand.

"What the fuck?" The man incredulously yelled, turning stupidly to look at the object which had been thrown before looking at the man who was now stalking dangerously towards him.

"Shizu - chan?" Izaya had peeked an eye open and was now looking up at the blond male with a bewildered and mistrustful expression. Damn flea, he couldn't bother to spare a grateful look when he was saving him like this, could he?

Shizuo didn't spare another look to the brunet as he let his full, malevolent attention turn towards the group of men. His weapon was gone, but to be honest, did he really need it?

"Who the hell are you?" Not only was this man sorely uninformed, but he was an idiot - not seeming to register the fact that the blond man in the bartender outfit had just launched a sign at him with apparent ease.

A knife was pulled on him, Shizuo ignored it as he grabbed the man harshly by the arm and, not allowing him a second to ask him another useless question, and threw him easily over his shoulder and out into the streets again. A sharp pang was felt in his arm during the short amount of time that he was in his iron grasp, but went easily ignored.

"T - t - that's... Heiwajima!" One of the men choked out, his knees shaking, as the demon of Ikebukuro turned back to the rest of them, his animalistic grin wide.

"You bastards... Making me get angry and use violence like this..."

On the ground, having slipped out the grasp of the man who'd been holding him after he'd taken a few steps back, Izaya stared at his enemy with a bewildered expression. He watched in silence as the one human whom he hated easily took care of those who'd only moments before been threatening his life. The violence in every one of his actions and yells held him still - transfixed to his spot as he shook in silence.

Izaya had never been afraid of this man's violent and wild tendencies before; he had actually reveled in bringing them up and enjoyed watching them control the bodyguard easier than he, himself, could.

This time, his body quaked of his own accord for a different reason than its simple surfacing. Izaya Orihara, the man who was commonly compared to a prophet of his generation, was afraid of this uncontrollable anger for one reason: he did not, for the first time since he had met him, understand what had made the blond fall into a rage. He hated, absolutely despised not understanding something or someone. It was uncommon, and just the thought of being unable to predict and manipulate a situation made him uneasy. Once again, as he always seemed to do, the blond had thrown him off.

Still watching the man, even as he easily took out the last of them, Izaya grew angry, and was glaring daggers into his back as he straightened and nonchalantly rolled his shoulder.

"Well?"

Shizuo tensed at the single word - appearing almost surprised to hear it. He did not answer, and remained facing away from Izaya. This made the informant even more frustrated. If there was one thing he hated almost as much as not understanding something, it was being ignored.

"What about me, Shizu-chan? Aren't you going to throw me into a wall now?" He persisted, keeping a keen eye on the blond standing but a few feet away from him.

Slowly, with an almost robotic feel to his stiff movements, Shizuo looked over his shoulder at the man on the ground looking up at him. Their eyes met, and both were silent.

Shizuo could still see it - the fear in the other's eyes, and he did not understand it.

"What's with that look, ya' damn flea?" He could not get over that expression - that look that the other was giving him. Since when was that louse afraid of him? Since when did he look so pathetic and fragile, as he had when being held - and even now?

Izaya struggled up off of the ground, as if sensing the other's thoughts, and dusted off his pants as he looked down, avoiding his hard gaze.

"I asked a question first, Shizu - chan! ~ Even a brute like you should know to answer it before expecting me to comply!"

Izaya's words were teasing and as annoying as usual, but they did not set Shizuo off like they normally did. Like he had wanted them to. Like he'd needed them to.

"Well! If you won't start our play, then I will!" Izaya said cheerfully, flicking out a blade kept handy and looking up at the other finally.

So much uncertainty - so much fear. It seemed to only heighten when he saw the blond looking at him like that. No rage, no impatience. Something softer, something which he was not used to was staring back at him, constricting him, as nothing had ever done before. He did not like it at all. He hated it.

His fear drove him to anger, and he lunged at the taller male, blade in hand, to take an easy swipe at him. Shizuo, not bracing himself for the attack, only moved slightly to the side - just enough to avoid the blade from cutting flesh - not enough to avoid it from tearing cloth.

Both were silent as Shizuo stared down at the tear on the fabric over his chest, one of the buttons now gone, as Izaya stared up to study his expression carefully - waiting and hoping.

That blank stare broke and burned with the fire of Shizuo's anger and he looked to the brunet, "You damn louse... This was a present from Kasuka!"

Izaya felt the constriction leave him and felt immensely better, even allowing his usual smirk to meld back into place, before leaving once again as a powerful hand gripped the collar of his shirt. The first time Shizuo had captured the ever elusive informant, Izaya realized that he had not thought this through well enough.

Thank you so much for reading ~ rate and review? Also, I would only be happy to receive messages for suggestions/tips/whatever.

Hoping to get chapter two up by next week. If I don't I'm terribly sorry !