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He's Such a Coward He Can Laugh	By : DarkFae Category: > Durarara!! (?????!! Dyurarara!!) Views: 3384 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: don't own durarara or anything about it. no casholas or profit from it either. just having fun!

Chapter List
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He's Such a Coward He Can Laugh

Chapter Two

The Ninth Floor

Recommended Listening: “Somebody Told Me” – The Killers, “Suck” – Nine Inch Nails, “Frozen” – Cell Dwellers

Review review review!!! :) :) :)

(((Heiwajima Shizuo)))

It was that Friday night. Shinra and I parted at the West Gate Park like we usually did. He would meet up with a strange biker in black and I would go home to have dinner with my brother before our parents got home from work. I had about six blocks to myself, as opposed to the four in middle-school. We lived too close to Raira to bust out on our own just yet. I was just glad I didn't have to pass by that bakery anymore. Too much guilt...

“Dude, you just fucked my main supplier over, and you expect me to sit down and take that shit?!”

“You're in for a world of hurt, you little snot.”

“Don't fuck with the Blue Squares. We'll teach you some manners!”

I paused. Some drug deal fight in an alleyway. Not an uncommon sight in Ikebukuro. This arrangement seemed unique however, and in a flash I saw why.

The accused was not groveling for forgiveness before the gang thugs, but was leaning against the wall with that smirk, looking bored with the threats.

Izaya.

“Oh, don't put it that way, boys!” he was saying nonchalantly. “These things happen you know. Please don't mess with me, you'll truss up my new jacket...”

“You cheeky little shit!”

Izaya deftly ducked away from the first punch. My pencil snapped in my hand.

The second blow I personally caught mid-swing.

“Shizu-chan?” Izaya seemed honestly surprised.

“Who the fuck is this?!” one of them exclaimed.

“Whoever he is, he's dead!”

“You guys picked the wrong day to fuck with me or my friends,” I told them, that rage building up inside of me. The attack stalled after I swung the initiator by the wrists into and through the brick wall we were standing by. Jaws went slack after they heard bones crunch, and suddenly they were overcome with fear. Fear of me.

“Wh-what?!” one of them managed.

I could feel Izaya grinning evilly behind me. I took the hesitation as an opportunity to lift the dumpster next to me up and over my head, then squarely onto theirs. They didn't stand a chance. Crushed in an instant, though the pathetic moaning under the massive thing assured me that I had yet to kill anyone.

“Well, well, what a surprise!” Izaya gloated. “A pleasant one at that! See you later, guys! Oh, and...” he bent down and lifted the wallet and a bag from a convenience store from one of the figures' limbs sticking out form under the trash. “Thank you for your patronage!” He turned to me. “Shall we, Shizu-chan?”

I rolled my shoulder and grunted, trying to pop it back into place. At least nothing actually broke this time. Picking up my school bag, I followed him. Not sure why, but it seemed like the right thing to do, especially if he was getting flagged by local gangs.

“So, what are you, a dealer?” I asked as we walked.

Izaya laughed. “As if! Nah, I was just doing a favor for Dotachin! Shady types, them...”

“Dota... chin?”

“You know, Kadota Kyohei? He's in our class, isn't he?”

“Oh. Right.” Didn't know Kadota was into gang activity until then. In hindsight, I would have thought Izaya had been lying (which he probably was anyway), but recent events had revealed that Kadota was indeed a member of the Dollars, and had a hand in the Blue vs Yellow a while back. Hadn't spoken to him in a while.

Anyway...

Izaya glanced into the wallet and whistled. “Oh my, we have quite the catch here!”

“Don't you think you'll piss his buddies off, robbing him like that?” I asked.

“Undoubtably,” he replied, wearing that knowing smirk. Like he was counting on it. Then he shrugged and sat on a bench. I realized that we were at a bus stop to Shinjuku. Izaya began to go through the bag. “Hmmm... let's see here. Doritos, rubber gloves, wooden dowels, a pair of … lovely lady panties … and hair bleach. Interesting combination, huh Shizu-chan?”

I actually smiled. “You're mind is in the gutter, pal.”

“You know it.”

I think I actually blushed. “Uh... hey, I –”

“You'd look good as a blond,” Izaya said out of the blue.

“Huh?”

“Let's dye your hair!” he suddenly said, face lighting up.

“Why don't you do it?” I asked.

“Can you imagine me with blond hair??” Izaya laughed. “I don't have the face for it. But you...” he stood close and ran his fingers through my hair. Goosebumps erupted across my skin and I froze with the sensation. Weren't girls supposed to make you feel this way?? Oh wow, oh no... “Let's make you look like a rock star.”

I was too dumbfounded to say no. The bus pulled up and I followed him on like a dream. He had a goddamned spell on me or something. That bastard always had a knack for getting his way with minimal effort on his part. My fingers were shaking as I texted Kasuka to let him know I wouldn't be home for a bit. I kept my face placid as I watched Izaya watch all the people load on, take their seats, get up and load off, casually munching on the stolen Doritos.

“That girl there wants to die, but she feels too obligated to her family to go through with it,” he was saying, gesturing to a girl from another school sitting several seats ahead. “And that guy over there? He lost his job but can't work up the balls to tell his family, so he leaves his house and wanders around for ten hours a day, wondering how he's going to pay his bills.”

“So?” I asked.

“Look at their faces, Shizu-chan. Blank. Perfectly tranquil. Masks. People wear them with startling clarity, and it reveals worlds about them.” Izaya leaned back and sighed in content. “God I love humans!”

“How do you know this stuff?” I asked. “And if humans are so great, why don't you go try and help them?”

“It's easy to read if you know how,” he replied. “I only 'help' when I suspect a particularly interesting response to emotional stimuli. Don't misunderstand. I could care less about individuals. The race as a whole is what I love, and what I love to see change and evolve under pressure. Like coal to diamonds...” He got a wistful expression on his face, then he turned to look at me and smiled. “But I want to see what makes you in particular tick, Shizuo.”

Mindreader! I could have sworn it at the time. Though given the supernatural crap I'd seen lately, it would not surprise me in the slightest if Izaya had been some kind of magician this whole time. Like he knew what I was going to ask next. I've never been big on words, but never had I been so much at a loss as to what to say in Izaya's presence.

Izaya rose from his seat and stretched. “This is it.”

“Huh?”

“Our stop.”

“Oh.” Duh. Why were my palms so sweaty? Following him off the bus, we walked a block and into a large apartment complex. It was clear that either he or his parents were well off to be put up in a place like this. “I thought you were home-schooled,” I said as we stepped into the elevator.

“Folks send a tutor,” he replied, not missing a beat. He pulled out the hair dye and examined the box. “Oh yeah, this is gonna look great on you. The chick on the box is cute, but you've got her beat, hands down, for sure.”

I sort of backed up a step and blinked, feeling the heat rush to my face. No mistaking it. He was definitely coming onto me, and I had unwittingly stepped into his lair. Well... unwittingly wasn't exactly the right word I suppose. I'd suspected, ever since I saw him observing me from the second floor walking into Raira. And in a giddy sort of stupor, unsure of just what I was getting myself into, I'd complacently walked right into his eager hands.

The more I think about it, the more it pisses me off. At the time it was exhilarating.

“Wh...what do you mean by that?” I stammered stupidly.

He pressed in close, barely an inch from my face, leaning against the wall behind me with a hungry look on his face. I was taller than him by several inches, but he seemed to loom in an eerily evil way, as if he were a predator. I suddenly found myself in the position of prey, which was a startlingly new experience. I was Heiwajima Shizuo! I kicked the shit out of people twice my size in droves. I don't go down without a fight. I don't go down period. The only thing I lacked control over was this rage that struck out of nowhere on its own accord. How did I end up in such a submissive position?!

“What do you think I mean by that?” I trembled with my feet frozen to the spot, hand gripping the strap to my bag so hard it ached as his lips brushed my neck, his breath tickling my ear ever so slightly. He was testing me. Testing my reaction? Had to be. “Something wrong, Shizu-chan?” he whispered silkily.

“I... I'm not...”

“Not gay? Heh. Labels are so worthless. It is what it is you know... and your hard on says otherwise.”

Not sure what I was going to say next. My lips parted to protest somehow, someway when his hand darted to my pants, gripping my erection with enough force to make any words I had die before they had a chance to form. The suddenness of the attack wasn't unexpected, but unavoidable. I was ashamed of my excitement and undeniably eager for some sort of sexual resolution at the same time. It must have shown, but even if it didn't, there was no doubt that Izaya knew.

Ding!

“Whadaya know? Ninth floor!” Izaya said cheerfully, releasing me and turning to the opening elevator doors as if nothing had occurred. I stood there for a second, in shock. He turned and glanced over his shoulder. “Coming?”

I should have pressed the ground floor button and left right there. Just shut the doors in his face and walked away. I'm sure he would have been satisfied with that reaction too – the pervert gets off on any kind of response, and that would have been as good as any. But no, my teenage self was eager for new experiences, curious about this insane situation and fascinated by the boy magician, weaving his magics over me and snaring me in, hook, line and sinker.

I focused on my shoelaces as I quickly shuffled behind him as he lead the way to his apartment. Was this really about dying my hair? I wondered at the time. In hindsight? Definitely not. It had just been an excuse to lure me in. And oh, how Izaya had lured me in...

The place was spacious and well furnished. He had several computers set up in a corner and a nice view of Shinjuku. Open stairs led up to a series of bookshelves and the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom were sectioned off down a long hallway towards the back of the suite.

“Don't mind the dishes, the cleaning lady hasn't been by yet this week,” Izaya was saying as he tossed the bag of random items aside and put his cell phone on a dock charger. I set my bag down and put my hands in my pockets to keep from fidgeting. “So, you know Shinra-chan?”

“Yeah,” I said simply.

“Nosy little shit, isn't he?” Izaya laughed, juggling the box of dye.

“Don't dis my friends,” I warned.

“Or what?”

My arm reached out on its own accord and picked him up by his shirt. I was more excited than angry, and tired of playing prey. “Or I'll kick your ass.”

He never stopped smiling. Not once. I don't think he ever intended on letting me get the upper hand, though he might have played at it. “Oh my. Whatever shall I do?”

“Don't be facetious, ass.”

“Are you gonna hit me?” he chided. He was actually provoking me. Something he grew to be very, very good at.

So I tried to hit him. I suppose as my strength can come as a shock to some people, Izaya's dexterity comes as a shock to me to this day. He wiggled out and tripped me so I toppled onto the couch. He was on top of me in an instant with that predator look again. I might have gotten angry, but his knee was squarely on my crotch. But despite the very vulnerable position I was in with his hands pinning my wrists, the heat rushed to my face again. His nose was a breath away from mine, his dark eyes gleaming with some plot to seduce me. Well fuck, I'd just let him, hadn't I? I might not have been able to lay a hit on him, but in a wrestling match it was no contest. I could have thrown him across the room easily.

But I didn't.

“I love it when you blush,” he told me just over a whisper. It was the first time I'd ever kissed a guy. It was ridiculous, but I was the one that leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were soft and hot with the buzzing tension between us. I felt them curl up slightly as his tongue touched mine delicately. He was being gentle, probably to measure my comfort or reaction or ... or something. I forced a more aggressive contact. I mean, it was obvious where this was going, and something told me to quit screwing around and try it already. Screw the hair dye. I wasn't going to just sit back and let him call all the shots in this seduction game any more.

Which of course, was exactly what he had expected. I hate to say it, but Orihara Izaya is very hard to surprise.

His hands slid from my wrists and into my hair as he deepened the contact, the knee to the groin becoming far less a threat and way more a tool for arousal. I didn't know what to do with my hands now that they were free – shit, my whole body was a bit at a loss for what to do with a guy in this situation. But I struggled to get his jacket and shirt off anyway. If this was going to happen, there was no way it was going to be half-assed. I don't do anything half-assed.

(Tom had once called me a man of extremes)

Apparently neither did Izaya. My shirt was undone and I hadn't even noticed him do it. There was a sense of urgency as his lips and tongue found my neck, my chest and my abdomen. Each fleeting kiss sent chills through my whole body, making everything stand on end. And I do mean everything.

“You know, Shizu-chan... you're awfully eager for not being into dudes...” Izaya teased.

“Less talk,” I told him breathlessly, resting my hand firmly on the back of his head.

“But I want to do an experiment!” he chuckled, looking up from my bellybutton with that sly look.

“Does it involve a resolution to this hard on you've tortured me with for the past twenty minutes?”

“If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were nervous and are trying to rush,” Izaya laughed. His face froze in that grin as I suddenly realized he had his flickblade resting against one of my nipples. “Relax.”

Relaxation was far from my mind. He could really do some damage if he turned out to be some murdering psychopath (turns out he WAS psychopath... just not the murdering type). Most might have lost the will to fuck right there, but I was harder than ever. I couldn't explain it. The risk, the newness, the sensation... I couldn't believe how turned on I had become. There was a goddamn blade pressed against my chest, and all I could do was shiver in anticipation. I felt like I was going to burst without some kind of friction or contact.

Izaya ran the edge along my skin, never once cutting but tracing little designs over my chest in a manner that set me on fire. The cold metal point shot jolts up and down my body, making me arch and moan involuntarily. Fuck, fuck, fuck!! Give it to me... anything will do! Something!

“What was that?” Izaya purred.

Hadn't realized I'd half moaned some of my thoughts. “If you're out to break my pride, I'll suffer before I beg,” I said as firmly as a I could. I was no good at controlling my anger, but I hadn't had ample opportunity to test my control of my lust. Please don't torture me into begging...

“No doubt!” Izaya agreed, cupping his chin in his hands. “You poor thing. This is turning out wonderfully! I suppose that merits reward.” He was too fast to follow. I didn't even see him fumble once for the button, my cock was just out and in his hands. I could have died right then – clearly, Izaya had experience in this matter. I could have come right that second had he asked. My head rolled back and hit the arm of the couch, the rush made me so dizzy.

Oh my god, his mouth. No woman could ever compare. The way his lips moved upon the shaft, the way his tongue explored and wound around, that dirty look on his face as he looked up at me … I grabbed his hair and pulled, I couldn't help it. Where a chick might have protested, I could feel him try to stop a wicked grin so he could continue his ministrations upon me.

“Oh … oh...oh fuck!” was all I could manage at first.

Izaya continued the filthy act with zeal.

“Izaya-kun...” I warned, shaking in a puddle of pleasure. “I'm... I'm gonna...”

He didn't stop.

“IZAYA!” I cried, unable to hold it back any longer. I must have doused his tonsils I was in so deep, and the bastard didn't care. Not a single gag, just lovingly lapping up every ounce of my orgasm. The room spun it was so good. I might have even passed out for a few seconds, because the next thing I knew he was pounding a pack of cigarettes against his palm and offering me one.

“Goddamn...” was all I could say at first as I accepted. He laughed. “You smoke?”

“Only before and after a good fuck,” he replied.

Damn. Well I guess he expected me to return the favor somehow, which I guess was only fair, despite my slight apprehension in the matter. Well, I'd gone this far already...

He lit my cigarette with a silver zippo, then proceeded to pull on a pair of those vinyl gloves. I got nervous. “The hell kind of kinky shit are you into?” I demanded.

“Pervert,” he accused playfully. He started shaking a bottle. Oh. He was mixing up the bleach. I'd completely forgotten about the hair dye. In fact, I'd thought it just a ruse to get me into his apartment.

I guess that made him the pervert.

**end chapter two**

**Preview Chapter Three: Bleach**

“Is it done yet? This shit stinks,” I complained. “My scalp burns.”

“Not unless you want bright orange hair,” Izaya told me. “Another twenty-five minutes.” He jumped over the back of the couch and into my lap, reminding me of exactly what had occurred fifteen minutes ago. My pulse picked up again. “What to occupy our time for such an agonizing wait?”

“I have a feeling you have something in mind,” I said gruffly.

“Something dirty? Something... erotic?” Izaya laughed, then paused. “I'm going to fuck you, Shizu-chan. And you're going to like it.”
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He's Such a Coward He Can Laugh