Virus 138 grinned as he swam over to the data base. He touched cord after cord of information, spreading red viral ticks over the strands. The ticks melted into the cords, red dots streaming through the data and turning it from beautiful snow to crimson blood.

138 laughed happily.

Izaya sat at his computer, chatrooming with Tanako Taro and Setton on the amazing world wide-web.

A pop-up showed up at the corner of his screen. He stared at it with a grimace then he sighed.

"A virus, huh?"

Izaya clicked the pop-up, taking him to the virus erasing program.

'Initiate virus removal?'

Izaya clicked the 'yes' box.

138 sat in the damaged coding, smiling at his red masterpieces.

But all too soon his reign as Virus King came to an end. Green strands of coding flooded the red cords, turning them green then back to the generic white. 138's eyes widened as he all around him, his red works of art were flooded with green then returned to white.

138 released the strand he had been corrupting as green snaked from them onto him. He wiped the purity off then swam away. He pushed through a gateway, where a digital black platform was laying out in front of him. He placed his feet on it then took off running.

Every step 138 took created another square of platform in the endless black sea. He glanced over his shoulder. When he spotted no one, he smiled, thinking he got away.

When he looked forward, his eyes widened to see a green bullet coming at his face. He dodged, barely, the bullet whizzing against his check.

He fell to his knees, hissing. His cheek began to decode, exposing his white teeth. He rubbed his hand over his cheek, the flesh recoding together till it was fixed.

A man stepped forward. 138 glared death at him.

"Psychedelic 420." He snarled.

The green-eyed blond glared down at him, his eyes devoid of emotions. He had black and green headphones over his messy blond head, no cord to connect to an MP3 player but simply a command center relaying information and orders then transmitting them to the green sunglasses over his eyes. His torso was covered with clothes similar to a bartender's—and to his own to the virus's distaste—only a green tie instead of a bow tie and his white sleeves were rolled up to below his elbows. Black gloves lay over his dainty fingers. His black pants covered over the top of his black four-inch wedged leather boots, a green strand of bullet cartilages around his middle thigh. It looked like nothing more than a design until 420 rubbed his hand over it, causing the cartilage to rise off and hover over his thigh. He refilled his over-sized pistol—the barrel as long as his forearm but twice as thick. Although, the grip was proportional in thickness to the barrel, they were shorter to accommodate for the user's hold on it.

138 hissed and leaped to his feet. He flung his hands out, pistols similar to 420's digitalizing into his open palms. 138 growled inwardly at seeing that even in weapons the deletion program was mimicking him. With pointed teeth, his sleeves rolled down to around his wrist, a loose, crooked bow tie, and with a base color of red instead of green as the only differences, he was more than determined to rid his world of this green slug. 138 gripped the over-sized pistols once they completely materialized then crossed then in front of his body.

There were no 'any last words' from either. No bantering with each other before a leveled, honorable battle construed between them.

It was quick. Silent. And bloody.

138 shot at 420 first. His red bullets left the gun in repeated clicks, one after the other as he ran sideways away from the green blond.

420 dodged the bugs, drawing out a shield as long as his body minus below the knees to block some he couldn't. He fired back, aiming carefully to conserve his limitless ammo.

138 pushed off the ground, dodging the bullets by twisting his body. He drew himself closer to 420 with every step on the ground and fly into the air, averting the cleansing seeds.

138 tucked one of his guns into a holster that digitalized at his hips then pulled out a half sword.

420 backed away, seeing the assault coming. He fortified his shield two-fold and continued to fire.

138 grinned maliciously, his pointy Cheshire cat teeth glinting with murderous intent. 138 continued toward 420, agilely ducking and weaving away from his onslaught on bullets.

The virus reached his fingerless gloved hand out and placed it right on the exterminators shield. Red ticks left the tips of his dainty fingers as he was sparked by a strong burst of purification. But the swarm of ticks protected him from the purity being spread to him. The purify destroyed the first batch but the second swam wasn't as unfortunate. They crawled onto the green, digital protection then seeped into it, spreading throughout its coding while turning it a deep red.

420 gasped as the corrupted data began to leak towards his arm. He detached the shield, putting both hands on it and shoving it at 138. The red disease stumbled, snarling almost animalistically with the corrupted shield still in front of him. 420 pulled out his own green half sword with one hand while he pointed his gun at 138's forehead with the other.

The virus's red blade came out of the corruption shield and slashed at 420.

The exterminator hissed and backed away as a long cut painted from his waist to his opposite shoulder.

As 420 fell back, he fired at the virus.

And made contact.

138 hissed and hopped two steps back. The bullet indented into the raven-haired disease's side, just below his ribs. Automatically, his waist began to decode, exposing his pumping inner organs.

138 took a handful of the virus coded shield and shoved it into his wound. Automatically, the skin drew back together and his tattered clothes rematerialized.

The two glared at each other.

Then the onslaught continued.

138 threw his blade at 420 as he ducked to the side. 420 dodged, and charged at the trash.

138 grinned.

420's eyes widened.

The red virus pulled back on the cord that attached his hand to his blade. The blade came across the side of 420's neck, slicing open the carotid artery. Blood splattered. 420 held the wound for a moment then gasped as those blood red eyes were inches away from his own green orbs.

138 stabbed 420.

The area fell silent.

138 looked down at his handy-work with a happy grin plastered on his face. Only for it to turn to a glower of distaste.

He missed. And he didn't like missing.

But he wasn't given much time to brood on it. His eyes widened as 420's blade cut through the bones of his wrist and sent the hand and sword flying.

138 hissed and leaped away as 420 swung at him again. The blade shortened his bangs by a centimeter. 138 glared at the blond in sour distaste, hiding his shortened arm behind his back.

Rules of guns: the bullets spread the other's disease or purity.

Rules of swords: they cannot spread the others substance but the other cannot heal the wound digitally. Only manually.

138 really hated that rule. He wasn't one to go into a battle half-cocked but they always had their moments. The moments when 138 thought he got 420 or whatever virus deletion program that was sent after him, and in his excitement would lost focus on being alert.

138 hisses sourly. He didn't like fighting with a stump for a hand. It was humiliating.

The bug drew his shortened hand to his intact one and drew his fingers over the wound. Ticks flooded his fingertips, crawling down and turning into code. 138 twitched his fingers like a puppeteer, coaxing more ticks to encode and form. They connected to his ulna and radius, creating the end of the carpal bones of his wrist. Then his metacarpal bones of his palm and finally the phalange bones for his fingers. Red coding encased the digital bones as a layer of skin.

138 sighed as he flexed his red hand to see if he had mobility to it. The hand wasn't his. It was just the insects under his control working as a replacement till he could manually put it back. He had to make sure 420 didn't touch it. If he did then there was a possibility he could 'poison it' and the hand would be under the blonds control.

138 glared up at 420. The exterminator had taken the disease's pause to bandage his own wounds instead of attempting to purify his while he was preoccupied. Green coding streamed under torn flesh, working as a blockage so no more blood could seep out.

Once both were ready, the battle raged on.

420 took the lead this time. He fired at 138 with his pistols as he charged then pushed his pistol into the holster and slashed at the virus with his blade.

138 swiftly dodged, back-stepping to the side. 420 swung again. The virus again dodged to the side.

138 reached his hand out, calling to his blade that lay in the limp grip of his old one. The blade flew to his intact hand and on the next swipe, the two blades collided. 138 didn't like fighting with his right hand. He was a natural lefty—at least that was the hand that he had defaulted himself to—but he was able to use his right whenever need be. He learned when he was newer that being used to using one hand was a handicap and that was something he couldn't afford to have. And with a fake hand, it was best to not use it when he was so close to the exterminator.

Cool green eyes met maniacal red. And in that moment, the two analyzed each other, calculating, looking for a weak spot. And both admitted…

That neither could find one.

The two blades clashed repeatedly, steel licking steel, sparks flying. The cycle broke as 138 leaped back out of 420's reach. Then he ran forward as 420 regained his swing. His red-handled blade slashed the man's black thighs, cutting into the arteries. Blood once again splattered and the exterminator's legs buckled.

138 turned and ran. As much as he wanted to kill the blond, he knew 420 would dodge or deflect the attack and his window of escape would disappear. Better to take it now.

As the insect ran to the nearest exit window, 420 pulled out a simple black pistol. He aimed. Then fired.

138 screamed in surprise as a harpoon struck through his shoulder. Luckily this type of weapon was neutral, unable to spread the other's poison no matter who wielded it. The issue was it could to be the biggest cause of casualty in these types of battles. Once the pointed arrow pierced through his shoulder, the arrowhead spread open, turning into a grappling hook. 420 tugged back on the cord and the four hooks dug into the four corners of 138's shoulder. But like a viscous dog, he continued to tug on his chain as hard as his body go pull.

138 turned and hissed at 420, threateningly. The blond gripped the cord of the grapple tightly and tugged. 138 tugged back.

With a yell of adrenaline, 420 pulled hard, knocking the raven onto his back. He swung around, lifting the raven off the ground where he swung the virus around with him. Once he reached enough momentum, he reached down and grabbed the pistol then pulled the trigger.

The cord disconnected from the barrel of the gun. 138 went flying then let out a choked hack as he slammed onto the ground, bouncing off then rolling away. He groaned as his pierced shoulder smacked full force onto the digital platforms. Then he growled. He roared in rage as he pushed himself to his feet, ready to charge at the exterminator with the harpoon still in his body.

But the end of the cord snagged back and buried itself into the ground, tugging the wild virus back. 138 hissed in confusion and hatred and tugged harder, trying to either break the cord or get the grappling hook to tear out of his shoulder. He didn't care which.

His eyes widened when he saw 420 inches away from him. He hissed at him then caterwauled as the exterminator hit him with the backside of his sword, knocking the virus onto the ground with only a small slit on his cheek.

420 straddled the struggling raven, unable to move his hooked shoulder and the arm attached had lost mobility once it had been stabbed. 420 pulled out his guns. He aimed, one at the insects head and the other at his heart.

Before 420 could pull the triggers, 138's blade flashed. In the next moment, both the guns barrels were cut in half, leaving the weapons defective and therefore useless. And in the same moment, 138 dropped the sword and pulled out his own gun. He aimed at 420's head.

He pulled the trigger.

The platform fell silent.

420's grip on 138's wrist saved him from being immobilized. Instead the bullet went whizzing by his temple, shortening a portion of his hair and leaving a flesh would on his brow that barely drizzled blood.

420 digitalized his blade once again and smacked the gun out of 138's hand with the back side of the blade.

Then he gripped the disease's wrist, slammed it onto the ground, and stabbed his blade into the palm of his hand. It earned 420 a screamed from the raven as his fingerless, gloved hand was thoroughly pinned to the floor.

420's eyes locked with 138's. The exterminator couldn't use his guns to purify the bug. It would take too long to manually fix them. And he couldn't use 138's discarded one. It would taint him before he could purify it.

420 sighed. "Switching to manual deletion mode."

420's lips attached to 138's. 138 would have bit the intruder but the blood that would no doubtable flood his tongue would be filled with deletion programming. The raven snarled then groaned as 420's tongue forced its way past the seal of his lips and pointed teeth. Deletion coding saliva mingled with destructive virus ticks. The two programs attacked each other through the drool, neither getting any leeway from the other as they were both equal.

420 separated, the two panting.

The deletion program attached his lips to the virus's neck.

"Nn." 138 clenched the blade in his palm, yanking on it to try and dislodge it.

420 took off his gloves and began unbuttoning 138's white shirt, pushing the open vest aside. Once the raven's pale flesh was exposed, the green-eyed blond rubbed his bare fingers over his nipples coaxing them to harden.

"Mm." 138 held back a moan, clenching his teeth.

420 pushed the disheveled bow around 138's neck to lick the indent of his collar bone. 138 hissed.

The exterminator's hands trailed down the raven's sides, pushing against his ribs—moving the floating ribs slightly—rubbing his hands over his skinny waist, then caressed the slightly exposed hip bones.

As 420 shoved his tongue back into 138's mouth, he unclipped the raven's disheveled red belt and spread the pants open. Then his hands gripped the elastics of his undershorts and waist band of his pants on his hips and tugged them both down.

138 hissed like a cat then spat. 420 wiped the saliva off his cheek then continued to pull the pants off. He tugged off one leather 4-inch wedged boot then the other. He decided to leave on 138's red-and-black stripped knee-high socks.

138 hissed once again as he struggled, trying to will some life into his immobilized arm and fake red hand. But it was to no avail.

420 gripped 138's flaccid cock and rolled his hand, playing with the tip to try to coax it to life. 138 hissed then shuttered as the ministrations worked. His hips shifted, trying not to move with the exterminator.

Once the raven was fully hard, 420 dipped his head down and kissed the tip then drew his tongue down. 138 held back another moan. As the blonde's mouth came over her erection, 138 titled his head back, his mouth open in an empty moan as pleasure encased him. Once again, he willed for his hand to move. But still nothing.

As 420 drew his mouth up with hard suction, 138 fidgeted. He felt his feet begin to decode and sure enough, when he looked down his black-and-red socked feet were vanishing, code my code. 138 groaned and began to shake violently as he forced his body to reject the deletion program. Forcing coding to return to his feet.

The decoding stopped and reversed. 138's metatarsal's and phalange's returned, then the muscles, fat, and finally skin.

420 would never admit that this virus was the strongest he's dealt with. Most would have died with the automatic deletion easily. Only a few others have forced him to go manual and they never lasted this long. Most would be deleted before he could even suck out their internal coding.

He was going to have to try harder.

420 sucked with more vigor, drawing his tongue down the under vein then rolled it around the pinkening head. 138 almost shoved his hips into that warmth. But he restrained, biting his bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed. The exterminator glanced up at the virus, noting how stubborn the bug was.

'Maybe he's a masochist.'

420 sucked hard, bobbing his head up and down quickly, gripping the male's sprawled thighs to hold them still. A moan finally escaped 138's lips.

"Uh! Fu-fucking bastard! Uh! You think you can delete me! HAHAHAHA! It won-won't wor—ah-ha! Uhn!"

138's toe's curled and he shuttered. A small dollop of his internal coding splattered into 420's mouth before he held it back, clenching all his muscles tightly to try to withhold his outburst.

Bu it didn't work. 420 rubbed his tongue over the slit of his cock head then dipped it in.

138's eyes flared open as heavenly whiteness took over his vision. His moan of release was a near scream as his internal coding splattered 420's mouth. 420 drank every droplet, not letting any of it leave his warm passage.

As he drank, he saw the memories of 138's creation. This was a first since this was the first time he had ever been able to drink a virus's internal coding. He was surprised to find that virus was created by some frivolous teen with too much time on his hand. He wasn't created with any grandiose defense systems like he has now and with only the base model that mimicked the creator, he was nothing special at all and thus led to him being forgotten by his creator. But as he progressed from one computer to another, he picked up small trinkets and souvenirs from random sites or virus and deletion programs he had defeated in the mainstream, in which he added to himself until he came to be what he was now: the strongest virus 420 has ever dealt with.

138 fell limp against the ground, panting heavily. He could definitely feel his body decoding now. His pinned hand was dematerializing from his elbow to his bicep. He hissed and forced his body to recode. But with a good portion of his internal coding gone, the most he could do was return the humerus, pivot joint, and a layer of muscle. His legs from the knee down were in the same condition.

"Fucking cunt." 138 spat.

420 was truly surprised although he didn't show it. Shouldn't he have vanished? This virus truly was strong.

420 spread 138's legs wide, pushing himself in between them. He spat on his hand and rubbed the liquid against the bug's entrance. Then unclipped his belt and pulled out his bigger-than-average cock from his green underwear.

138's eyes went wide then he glared up at the blond with complete hatred.

420 pushed in.

A small moan escaped 138's lips. 420 pushed in to the hilt on the first slow thrust. Then automatically pulled back. He didn't give 138 time to adjust as he thrust back in repeatedly, over and over. It didn't hurt. Being a program, pain during these events never surfaced. The only pain 138 felt was from the deletion program that was being forced into him. Hot, burning pain shot up his insides, into his organs, slowly, surely making its way to his heart and nerves.

"Fucking whore! Slut! Cunt! Piece of shit!" Streams of curse words left 138's mouth as Psychedelic 420 thrust into him, hard, quick, intent to remove the virus once and for all. The blond battered his entrance over and over, in and out, pushing and stretching and spreading his deletion program throughout 138's virus body.

And soon, 138's body began to vanish. His undamaged shoulder had decoded, exposing the ball-and-socket joint while his humerus bone and the pivot joint of his elbow had completely vanished. 138 still had mobility to his stabbed hand and wrist that belonged to that shoulder, which he continuously tried to move and free. Both his lower legs had vanished except for his fibia on his right leg. His eyes glowed from red to green and his hair began to turn white as the life was sucked out of it.

The blond hissed as a small spurt of internal coding, flooded with nothing but deletion coding, left his member and splattered onto 138's inner wall.

138 screamed as if the liquid was acid, burning him from the inside out. The virus's left leg was completely gone now, the right decoding to expose the femur.

420's thrust became harder and faster, internal coding leaking out slowly. He was close. Soon the virus would be gone. Once he released the full force of his deletion code, he would be gone.

420's objected flashed over his glasses, showing him over and over and over what he was to do with this infection.

Disappear.

Disappear.

Disappear.

Disappear.

Erase.

Erase.

Erase.

Erase.

Psychedelic 420 heard a gun cock right next to his ear.

A bullet sounded, loud and ringing.

420 had dodged just in time, another flesh wound marking his brow as he leaped back. He hissed as suddenly pulling out caused him his release and the deletion program splattered onto the platform.

420 growled. He glared up at the intruder, then hissed in distaste.

A man with 420's exact base design, even down to the tie, glared down at him. The only difference was that he was blue instead of green.

'Another virus?'

The new virus looked down at the naked half-decoded raven. 138 panted heavily as he looked up at his savior.

"4…20…" 138 panted.

420 glanced down at the red virus.

"I know." The blue virus said.

Virus 420 pulled out the blade from 138's hand and shot at the cord of the grappling hook, tearing it and freeing the pitiful virus. He took off his vest and wrapped the raven in it and ran away with the red virus in his grip.

420 would have given chase if he had his equipment. But he wasted all his gigabytes on 138. There was no way he'd be able to fight a new virus that may be 138's equal.

So, sighing heavily, he let them escape.

'Program failed. Please try again later.' The box popped up on Izaya's screen.

"Eh? How does a virus deletion program fail?" Izaya said in annoyance.

Psychedelic 420 lied down on his back, watching the digital sea before him, and decided he'd relax before he fixed his weapons and body.

And done.

Once I found out about Virus and Psychedelic, I automatically fell in love with them. And I so badly wanted to write something like this. It was so fun. And while I was browsing through the names on the DURARARA! fanfiction thing, I came across V420 and I seriously had a heart attack of excitement. Now I understand why 420 changed from blue to green in pictures!

In my head, this was a really sexy story. But as I wrote it, I added in correct details and terms and then it didn't become sexy anymore. I know a lot of people will find it really weird that Virus is vanishing and body parts are showing and all that. But I like it more for the battle scene then the lust so it's fine by me. I haven't written a battle scene in a long time and I noticed my writing has changed from then. I don't know if that's good or bad.

For those who haven't taken an anatomy term, here's a list of the bones I used for this. I hope I made them obvious enough but here they are anyway:

Ulna-smaller bone in the forearm.

Radius-bigger bone in the forearm, on the same side as your thumb.

Metacarpals-irregular bones that form the wrist.

Carpals-long and irregular bones that form the hand.

Phalanges-long bones that make up for fingers and toes.

Metatarsals-irregular bones that for the ankle.

Tarsals-long and irregular bones that for the foot.

Floating ribs-a pair of ribs under the false ribs (ribs that connect to the spine but not the sternum) that are not connected to the sternum or spine.

Humerus-long bone in your bicep between the shoulder and elbow.

Fibia-smaller long bone of the lower leg between the ankle and knee, behind the Tibia (shin bone).

Femur-thigh bone.

Alright, well, I hope the reviews won't be too bad.

Hope to see you again.

Kittycatkyla