Author's Note: Hey, friends. It's been an entire year since I last updated, hasn't it? I apologize for the long wait. My depression has been particularly bad this year; I even ended up dropping out of all my classes, I just didn't have the motivation to keep going. I was miserable.

I confess, I have actually tried to write new chapters for all of my fics multiple times, but I was never satisfied with them - something always felt lacking. I was also having trouble connecting with the characters and the setting - you ever had one of those moments where you either say or think or read a word over and over and over again, until it sort of just… loses all meaning? It's called semantic satiation, and while it's not a perfect metaphor, it's something that many neurotypical individuals may still experience, and is therefore the easiest way to attempt to convey the particular form of dissociation my BPD likes to take. The main difference is that semantic satiation is simply the phenomenon involving words temporarily losing meaning, but my dissociation can sometimes extend to emotions, concepts, and even reality. My point in bringing it up is because I feel like that's what was happening with Durarara to me… I thought about it all so much that everything began to lose meaning to me, and that made it difficult for me to write... pretty much anything, if I'm being honest.

In any case, here I am! We're starting right from where we last left off, so if you haven't read the last chapter in a while, it might be a good idea to do that? Again, I am sorry for making you guys wait this long. A year.

A whole fucking year.

Shit.

Anyway, I feel it is incredibly important that I warn you ahead of time that this chapter includes edge play. It is equally important to me that you are aware that edge play is not the same thing as edging (confusing, I know); while edging is when one partner takes the other as close to orgasm as possible without letting them cross the finish line, edge play is when one partner takes the other as close to their psychological and/or physical limits as possible while still respecting the kink law of "safe, sane, and consensual." As edge play is far more extreme than edging (it often includes consensual non-consent, which can be triggering), and the two terms are, in fact, often mixed up, I felt the need to clarify. Don't worry - there's aftercare.

So…

Enjoy?

Thirty seconds is, in the grand scheme of things, not a particularly long time. It's not enough to hold a philosophical conversation, or do a parkour run to the liquor store, or listen to jazz or lo-fi music - sure, a person could watch a few Vines, or microwave a slice of leftover pizza or something - but it's not generally enough time for anything truly substantial to occur.

That said, it is definitely enough time for Izaya to start regretting what, in hindsight, was probably not one of his brightest ideas.

It's okay. It's okay, he's not actually going to hurt you, at least not in any way you can't handle… and besides, he gave you a safeword, remember? Shizu-chan might be a brute, but he wouldn't ignore a safeword… right?

He thinks back to the expression Shizuo'd had on his face as he began his countdown - it had been incredibly intense, dark and smouldering and promising just as much pleasure as it did pain… yet, he still can't quite figure out if that's made him more intimidated, or more aroused.

He is certain, however, that what's left of that stubborn pride of his is not about to let him back out now... so when he hears footsteps coming up the stairs, he does his best to calm his pounding heart and quiet his breathing.

"IIIIIIIIIIIZAAAAYAAAA-KUUUUUN!" Shizuo's voice rings out like thunder, sending a shiver down Izaya's back. "Time's up, IIIIIIzaaaya-kuuuun! Ready or not, here I come!"

You're supposed to say that before you open your goddamn eyes... Izaya grumbles internally. As terrified nervous as he is, he's even more excited; apprehension, anticipation, arousal - all of them seem to be swirling around deep inside his gut, combining in a feeling that he would be hard-pressed to call comfortable.

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

His breaths short and his heart beating rapidly in his chest, Izaya has to shift to keep his growing erection from rubbing against anything.

This is bad… this is very, very bad…

The game hasn't even truly started yet, and he's already losing.

I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him...

A creak in the floorboards from outside the laundry room alerts Izaya to the fact that Shizuo is very, very close to his hiding place. A second later, he hears the door open, followed by firm footsteps - he holds his breath and does his best to stay as absolutely still as realistically possible as he hears the door to the dryer open and shut - then the washer, then the bottom cupboards, then the upper cupboard closest to the door. His heart starts pounding even faster, and he's barely able to breathe as he anxiously waits for his hiding place to be exposed...

...but it isn't.

In fact, right after checking the cupboard next to his, the footsteps actually start to fade in volume as if Shizuo has decided the rest of the room just wasn't worth checking.

Seriously?! He thinks to himself. He knows Shizuo isn't the sharpest tool in the shed - but still, he was so close! One more cupboard and he would have found him!

I suppose I should count myself lucky, then…

At this point, he's not even sure he still wants to be found at all.

Stupid fucking beast, making me feel so…ugh. Vulnerable.

Vulnerability is, in his opinion, the absolute worst feeling (next to shame or humiliation, of course), and he has generally made life miserable for anyone and everyone who has even indirectly forced him to experience it. He supposes that, in Shizuo's case at least, this is an example of that coming back to bite him in the ass… potentially literally.

How am I supposed to deal with him in the long run? It seems like he's gaining more and more power over me each day - and I really, really, really don't like when people have power over me…

It's then that he realizes he hasn't heard any sign of the other man in several minutes. No footsteps, no creaking floorboards, no breathing, no clearing of throats, no anything that might give him a sign as to his partner's location. He's starting to wonder if maybe Shizuo thinks he actually did leave the apartment this time, and has gone out searching for him on the streets of Shinjuku - if that's the case, then there really isn't any point in staying in his hiding place any longer, is there?

He waits a few more minutes just to be sure before finally climbing out of the cupboard, moving close enough to the door that he can hear out of it, but not enough that anyone could see him peeking around the corner. He still can't hear anything that might tell him where Shizuo is, and considering he can generally hear the other man coming from a mile away, he takes this to mean that Shizuo has left the building.

Oh, well. A few seconds to relax couldn't hurt. I should use this time to my advantage, maybe set up some sort of trap, or-

Before he can finish the thought, a strong arm wraps around his waist and pulls him tight against its owner's chest, a surprised squeak escaping his lips.

"Looking for someone, IIIIzaaaayaaa-kuuun?" Shizuo's voice is low, his face so close that Izaya can feel his warm breath tickling the back of his ear.

"You - you - you tricked me!" He can barely believe it. "You! Tricked me!"

"Sucks, don't it?" Shizuo grins, tugging Izaya's shirt out of his pants so he can slide a hand underneath it. Soft... He thinks to himself, his hand journeying up Izaya's goose-bump covered stomach until his fingers have found and pinched one of his perky pink nipples.

"Hnn!"

"What was that? Didn't quite catch it." Shizuo's other hand follows the first, fingers tweaking and twisting the tender nubs until Izaya is squirming in his firm embrace. "You gotta speak up."

"Fuck you." Izaya breathes, his cheeks burning with both shame and desire.

"That's the plan, ain't it?" Shizuo pinches his nipples harder, enough that it causes Izaya to cry out in pain and reflexively try to push his hands away, which earns a chuckle from the much, much, much stronger man. "It's cute when you try to fight me." He sneers.

"Go to - ah - hell!"

"How about I meet you there, huh?"

Without warning Izaya finds himself with his back against the wall and his wrists pinned above his head, Shizuo's hand squeezing his throat juuuust enough to make him nervous. Before he has enough time to attempt to rasp out a word or two, Shizuo's mouth has latched onto his and stolen away any chance of rebuttal he might have had. "Hnnn…" He groans, vaguely aware that he's supposed to be being uncooperative but now far too horny to actually put in the effort.

"You know, you sure do seem happy for someone gettin' choked by their so-called worst enemy." Shizuo teases. "Maybe I'm not doing it hard enough?" He squeezes just a tad bit harder, his guilt shoved to the wayside in favor of that familiar rush of adrenaline he feels every time he's the one holding all the cards. Turns out a week isn't quite enough time for him to completely forgive a decade of humiliation, frustration, and resentment. Who'd've thought?

Besides… as fucked up as it is, Izaya is just so damn pretty when he's suffering.

"Hgk…" Izaya struggles to breathe, feeling himself begin to become light-headed. Come on, say something. You can do it, come on! He tells himself, but he just can't seem to bring himself to force out any sound other than a pained one. Damn it, come on! What if you need him to stop? How are you supposed to say mercy if you can't say anything at all?! His panic is threatening to overwhelm him, and he's certain he's about to pass out when the pressure is suddenly gone and all the air rushes back in, causing him to cough violently for what feels like an eternity. "I really… hah…. Fucking hate you." He manages to gasp after a few seconds.

"What's wrong, flea? Isn't this what you wanted?" Shizuo lets go of him just long enough to rip his pants and underwear to shreds, fumbling with his belt buckle and zipper so he can start pushing himself into Izaya's now entirely exposed, entirely dry ass.

"W-wait, don't - hngk!" Shizuo's hand has once more wrapped itself around his throat, not quite as tightly as it had the last time, but definitely tighter than it had been the first. That, paired with the white-hot pain of Shizuo's cock tearing him open is almost too much for him to handle - he can feel his tears burning his cheeks, but this time they give the beast no pause. If anything, they seem to spur him on.

Fuck… shit… can't think… hurts too much…

So why, why does it feel so good?

Shizuo is kissing him as violently as he's fucking him, the pain and pleasure blurring together until he can't tell them apart anymore. He's vaguely aware of the taste of blood on his lips, but whether it's from him or Shizuo he isn't sure… he supposes it might be both.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so fucking tight…" Shizuo groans into the kiss, feeling himself starting to get close to his peak; reaching down in-between them so he can take hold of Izaya's poor, neglected erection, he begins to jerk him off to the rhythm of his own desperate thrusts. "Gonna cum… fuck…" He picks up speed and force both, biting down on Izaya's lower lip before sucking on it roughly. "Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum…"

The sensation of Shizuo's cock driving deep and hard into him, of his hand working him to completion and his lips moving fiercely against his own and his grip tightening around his throat as his hot, sticky seed begins to spill into him - it's all too much for Izaya to bear, his eyes rolling back as his own orgasm hits like a tsunami. His body convulsing, he clenches hard around Shizuo, his cum spurting all over the other's signature vest.

"You know, normally I'd… hah… kill you for messing up my uniform, but I think I can let it slide this time." Shizuo remarks, taking a moment to catch his breath before slowly pulling out. Almost immediately, a steady stream of red-streaked white begins to run down Izaya's thighs. "Let me… let me get a towel. I'll be right back." He runs to the bathroom and grabs a towel from the rack, trying to ignore the pangs of guilt no longer kept at bay by lust. Unfortunately, when he returns and finds Izaya on the ground with his head buried in his knees, he finds it easier said than done. "H-hey…" He kneels down, swallowing hard. "You uh… you good?"

"Sure." Is Izaya's muffled reply.

From the flat tone in his voice, Shizuo's going to go ahead and guess it's a lie. "Look at me."

"No."

"Look at me, or I make you."

"...Fine." Izaya surrenders, raising his head and meeting the other's worried gaze.

Shizuo frowns and studies his lover's face, the expression on it almost as flat as his voice had been. "You're not good." He states, his frown deepening.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Come on." He gathers Izaya up in his arms and carries him over to the bathroom, setting him down in the bathtub as gently as he's physically able. Izaya doesn't stop him from tugging his shirt up over his head, nor does he comment when he strips off his own clothes and climbs in next to him - he just doesn't have the energy to try and argue (not that arguing would do any good, considering how little say he seems to have in this relationship.)

Pathetic. I'm pathetic.

Shizuo turns on the water, waiting until it's warm before switching it from the faucet to the shower head. Izaya makes no move to clean himself off, and Shizuo hesitates before realizing he may actually need to do it himself.

I think… I think I might have gone too far this time…

Now is not the time to beat himself up over it, though, so he instead shifts his focus back to his silent lover. "Hey. Lemme see your face." He says softly, turning Izaya's head to look at him. His eyes are red and puffy, but nowhere near as much as his lips; his hands trembling, Shizuo wipes the remaining blood from Izaya's nose, mouth, and chin with as little pressure as he can manage. "Are you… are you hungry? I could go get something, or we could - we could order in. If you, uh.. want."

No response.

"Izaya?"

Still no response.

"Izaya, please talk to me."

"I'm just tired, Shizu-chan. Incredibly, incredibly tired." Izaya finally responds. His entire body feels heavy, and simply moving his lips feels like a feat worthy of Heracles - he's finding it very, very hard to keep his eyes open. "I just… want to go to sleep as soon… soon as possible."

"That's… fair." Shizuo admits. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little exhausted himself… and he hadn't exactly gone easy on the guy. "I'll try to finish up quickly." He promises, lathering shampoo over his hands before working it carefully through Izaya's scalp.

"Mm… feels good." Izaya murmurs, leaning into the other's touch.

"What are you, a cat?" Shizuo remarks.

"Mm. Maybe…" He nuzzles into the crook of Shizuo's neck, the warmth of his body and the warmth of the water only making it harder for him to stay awake.

"Hey, don't fall asleep yet, flea. Wait 'til we're out of the shower, okay? Hey, flea. You hear me?"

"Mm."

"Was that a yes?"

Silence.

"Flea?"

More silence.

"Well, so much for waiting 'til we're out of the shower…" Shizuo sighs and leans Izaya against the back of the tub, taking the shower hose out of the holder so he can rinse the shampoo off. When he's done with his hair, he makes sure the rest of Izaya is cleaned and rinsed before doing the same for himself. After drying them both off and dressing Izaya in a pair of clean underwear and a t-shirt, he tucks the smaller man into bed, then heads back out to clean up the rest of the mess he's made.