Title: A Twisted Sense of Altruism
Rating: M
Pairing: Shizuo x Izaya, Izaya x Psyche
Prompt (DRRR!Kinkmeme): Abused!Roppi is found by Izaya who takes him home and cares for him. When Roppi starts meeting with Shizuo, angst, drama and fluff will follow.
Disclaimer: Don't own Durarara! or the characters ^^''
AN: Hello again~ I am going to apologize in advance for this story's slow pace. Sorry! -bows- I hope that readers will enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it :'D Please review~ I would love to learn to be a better writer with your help! xD
"Yeah, he looks about fourteen… No he won't tell me… I just told you he won't talk, so how would I know!"
Tapping his fingers against the wooden desk's surface in irritation, Izaya leaned back in his chair, sighing into the phone.
"Shinra, I'm coming back tomorrow, so there better be room in your schedule when I bring him over!" His increasingly loud voice caused the boy to flinch and hug his legs closer as he sat stiffly on the hotel bed behind Izaya. The informant hissed an irritated goodbye to his doctor and flipped his cell phone shut, watching the boy's interesting behavior from the corner of his eye.
"Do you understand me when I speak?" He asked the same question again as he made his way over to the bed and kneeled down in front of the nervous boy. "If you don't want to talk, you could just nod 'yes' or shake your head 'no' so I know you at least understand what I'm saying," Izaya gave his own example head nods and head shakes to make what he wanted from the other a bit clearer.
However, the boy continued to stare at his feet, shifting uncomfortably in his wet clothes when Izaya realized he had forgotten that the other had been bathing in snow for a number of days. Standing up, he walked over to his suitcase and pulled out another set of the same clothes he wore today, along with a pair of boxers.
"Change out of those wet clothes," Izaya muttered, holding out the neatly folded clothes in front of the boy's face. Glancing up, he stared blankly at the pile in Izaya's hands as though he had just offered him a five-eyed cat. When he finally reached forward, Izaya dropped the clothing into the boy's small hands, but the boy continued to glare at it.
The man's interest was sparked by this odd behavior. How was this boy raised? How old was he actually? Could he have been kept in a single room for five… ten years? He felt a familiar thrilling feeling of adrenaline creep over him. There was so much to find out about this strange boy. However, knowing that many of his questions would likely be answered the following day, Izaya kept his curiosity under control.
"Do you recognize what is in your hand?" Izaya asked calmly, quickly adding, "If you don't want to speak, then nod or shake your head."
The boy's eyes wandered from the pile and moved to meet Izaya's as his head slowly began to rotate from side to side. Izaya gave a slight smile, satisfied knowing that his words were heard and motioned for the boy to get up, taking the clothes from his hands.
"Stand up. I'll help you get changed."
Shakily, the other pushed his body off the edge of the bed and stood up, his eyes level with Izaya's collarbone.
"Do this," he said, motioning upwards with his head as the younger boy slowly raised his arms. The boy appeared to become more nervous when Izaya took a step forward. He shifted uncomfortably as the taller man reached for the collar of his jacket and began pulling it off. Izaya was stunned at how similar the jacket was to the one he had on now, and once he had pulled it off and glanced at the tag on the back, he noticed it was the same brand.
'Coincidences can only go so far… Someone was definitely trying to make this kid look like me…'
He tossed the jacket in the direction of the bathroom door, then reached down to the bottom of the boy's V-neck, working his fingers into the top of his black pants to untuck it.
There didn't appear to be any problems until Izaya decided to shoot a glance down at the other's face, only to see pure horror in his eyes. Seeing such an intense emotion in the boy's expression caused Izaya to flinch, letting go of the wet shirt. He stared curiously, wondering if he should bother continuing or not.
"Are you okay?"
Although Izaya's voice came out as a cold monotone, the boy's expression softened at the concerned words uttered from the taller man. Izaya didn't really care much about the boy's fear, but he desperately wanted to find out why he reacted as such when his clothes were removed.
'Maybe he was raped?'
Izaya pondered the thought as he unbuckled the other's pants, allowing them to fall heavily to the carpet.
'Not too uncommon nowadays…'
He ignored the boy's still nervous expression and pulled his boxers down, telling him to step out of the circle of wet clothes at his feet.
"Do you know how to take a shower?" Izaya asked. When the boy shook his head, Izaya clicked his tongue and walked past the other.
"Follow me."
The boy nervously entered the bathroom, completely nude as he stood in the doorway watching Izaya hang the wet clothes on the towel racks. As he turned the knob on the bath, Izaya wondered if he should really be leaving such a mentally troubled boy alone in the shower. He glanced back. The boy stared at him anxiously, exposed as he waited.
'It would be problematic if he killed himself in my hotel bathroom…'
Izaya sighed, beginning to feel slightly annoyed at the boy's constant nervousness. He quickly began throwing off his own clothes, ignoring any other fearful expressions from across the room.
"Come here," he said, sinking into the comforting warmth. The other moved forward hesitantly and copied Izaya, stepping the same foot into the water before sitting down directly in front of him.
'Ugh, what a pain…' Izaya silently complained as he reached to the side of the bath and grabbed the bar of hotel soap. He quickly dipped it in the water and brought it to the boy's back, causing him to flinch suddenly.
"It's just soap, see?" Izaya leaned forward impatiently, holding it to the side of the boy's face. "It'll get you clean."
Izaya began rubbing the soap on the boy's scarred back, moving it in a circular motion over all the bruises and cuts that covered him.
'I wonder what he did to get this beat up…'
Slightly annoyed at the thought of someone damaging another version of his exact body, Izaya began rubbing harder. The boy looked like a middle-school version of himself; the only difference being height. Same pale skin, same scarlet eyes, his skinny arms and legs… they were all the same. Taking out his irritation on the boy's back, a small whimper barely escaped his lips.
"Oh, so you aren't mute then!" he said, mock surprise coating his voice. The boy, however, didn't turn around, and instead brought his knees to his chest, allowing for more room in the small hotel bathtub.
"Turn around, please. I have to wash the front."
At first, the boy did not react. Izaya wondered if he had heard him. But after a short moment, the younger boy slowly turned to face him, eyes cast on his reflection floating on the water. Izaya began washing his chest, unsure of what was a bruise and what was just dirt.
"If you don't want to talk yet that's fine. But I would like you to at least show me a 'yes' or 'no' when I ask a question." Izaya leaned forward, running a finger through the boy's matted hair, only to grin when another fearful expression emerged on his pale face.
"Do you know where your parents are?"
The boy directed an unsure glance towards Izaya, who quickly rephrased the question. "Do you have parents? Or a parent? Someone who looked after you?"
Now re-worded, his question earned a slight nod from the boy. Encouraged, Izaya spoke again.
"Did you run away?"
With a bit of hesitation, the boy nodded again.
"I see."
For a while, the two sat in silence as Izaya washed away all the dried blood and grime on the boy's body. He then reached for his shampoo and squirting some onto his palms, rubbed it into the boy's hair. He seemed to be calming down some, but still appeared edgy, continuously flinching at any sudden movements from Izaya.
After scrubbing his own expensive, top-quality conditioner into the boy's hair, Izaya rinsed him off and quickly unplugged the drain.
"Get out of the bath. I'll dry you off and you can put on the clean clothes I left on the bed while I finish showering."
The boy did what he was told much faster this time, climbing out of the bathtub and walking in front of Izaya. The man reached out and roughly rubbed a towel against the boy's skin, then dried his hair. When he finished, Izaya tossed the towel away and turned back to wash himself before noticing he hadn't moved.
"…You can just stay there if you want, I suppose. Or you can go sit on the bed."
The boy continued to stand where he was, watching Izaya as he brought the bar of soap across his chest. Ignoring how creepy it was to have someone watch him showering, he pretended the boy wasn't there and forced himself to take a much faster shower than his usual forty-minute one. As soon as he had rinsed off the soap, Izaya hopped out and grabbed the other towel resting on the sink. Quickly drying off, he strolled off into the bedroom with the towel wrapped tightly around his hips.
"Okay, let's get some clothes on you…"
Izaya went to pick up the pile he had left on the bed, but first glanced at the time on his phone. It was seven o'clock.
'I'll get him some sleep wear instead…' Izaya told himself as he wondered over to his suitcase.
"It's a good thing I always pack extra clothing… Here." He motioned the boy over.
The boy watched him, expressionless as Izaya pulled his clothes onto the smaller version of himself.
'It's like dressing up a doll… Made to look exactly like you…' The thought brought a chuckle to his lips.