Disclaimer: I do not own DRRR!

Tender

There was no denying that Orihara Izaya loved his job.

Being able to be paid for observing one of his precious humans, and then poking at their life and proceeding to turn it into shambles, brought a sense of accomplishment and a sickeningly sweet joy to his life. Oh, the power information held!

Said power, however, had as of late turned into a sadistic curse, morphing from its previous sick joy. To add further insult, the cause of Izaya's "curse" had befallen upon his person due to one of his precious humans, one by the name of Yamamoto Haruka. Middle-aged and with an air of superiority and self-confidence, Yamamoto-san (as Izaya had called her with a saccharine smile) had gotten straight to the point with the mischievous informant.

"Find out if my husband is cheating on me."

A full description of the potentially unfaithful spouse had been provided for the informant before Yamamoto-san had turned on a high, Gucci brand heel and stormed out with a flick of graying dark hair over her right shoulder.

That was two weeks ago.

As of that date, Izaya had gathered quite the evidence: numerous calls to one set number which, unsurprisingly, belonged to a woman half Mr. Yamamoto's age; snapped photos of some dirty blonde girl (which, with a little more digging, turned out to be the owner of the phone number Mr. Yamamoto called frequently) hanging off Mr. Yamamoto's arm, giggling sweetly and pressing herself against the grinning man; several telling pictures of Mr. Yamamoto purchasing jewelry and expensive brand clothing for a woman that clearly was not Yamamoto-san (Izaya doubted she could fit into that particular red dress) – honestly, the informant had been a smidgeon shocked when Yamamoto-san had huffed at his evidence, muttering something about Mr. Yamamoto having a close female friend and what else do you have?

Denial. Yamamoto-san was in denial. Pearly white teeth nipping at her lipsticked bottom lip, hands clenched into shaking fists at her side, the slight tremor that shook her from her head to her toes...

Ah, yes, Yamamoto-san was in denial.

With a smirk well-hidden behind a collection of papers, Izaya had graciously offered to look further into Mr. Yamamoto's life.

And so came the salacious phone call recordings, pictures of farewell kisses, copies of receipts from over-priced restaurants–

Izaya had even managed to acquire a confession from the weak-minded blonde girl, which he had taped and played for Yamamoto-san.

"What else?" she had sniffed out, practically bawling her eyes out before an annoyed Izaya.

Alas, he couldn't bring himself to kick a poor, sobbing woman out without the reassurance he would find more evidence first (and proceed to break her further).

However, a copious amount of evidence later and the exhausted and annoyed informant was positive that nothing less than a sex tape would satisfy Yamamoto-san. And he was not spending a night watching (and recording) some promiscuous rich old man and a shrilly young blonde fucking.

Not again.

It was with a strained smile and some more rejected evidence that Izaya bid farewell to a full-out sobbing and slobbering Yamamoto-san, his pale fingers twitching with the urge to reach for his switchblade (which was conveniently located just a few inches away on his desk) and stab the woman...and possibly himself, too, if only to get rid of the severe migraine she had left him with.

Once the heavenly sound of the door clicking shut reached his ears, Yamamoto-san's cries muffled and slowly fading, Izaya allowed a slow sigh to leave his lips as he unceremoniously plopped down on his swivel chair, shoulders sagging and head lolling back as he shut his eyes, a low groan passing his parted lips. Never before had he managed to snag someone so...so...

So disgustingly in denial.

It was quite clear to the informant that Yamamoto-san understood her husband was, in fact, cheating on her. Quite openly at that. However, no matter how much evidence Izaya accumulated, the woman would only break down (which was delightful, if a little annoying) and ask for more proof; dismissing his current evidence as if it were nothing.

Izaya was starting to think Yamamoto-san was a masochist. But surely she couldn't find her husband cheating on her that gratifying...could she?

Another slow, tortured groan escaped his pale lips before he lethargically snapped his head back up, eyes blinking open blearily. Rolling his shoulders, and wrinkling his nose in distaste as he heard several snaps, Izaya amused the thought of leaving his work for the time being and taking a nice, hot bath to help relieve his sore muscles and stress. Unfortunately, one spare glance at the rejected compiled evidence had his eyebrow twitching and the desire for more knowledge sparking inside of him.

With a quick stretch that resulted in several creaks and snaps from his exhausted bones, Izaya reached for the glasses he had discarded to the edge of his desk earlier, slipping them on and proceeding to throw himself back into work mode.

Running on less than four hours of sleep, daily, for nearly two whole weeks obviously would take a huge toll on an ordinary human's mind and body. However, Izaya prided himself in being a little abnormal, so the consequences he suffered were nowhere near huge.

He did fall asleep hunched over on his keyboard quite often, though.

And, as it turned out, that was exactly how Heiwajima Shizuo found him when he happened to come over that very night.

Seeing Izaya out cold on his keyboard came as no shock to the older man, but seeing the informant give no sign of even hearing him come in...

Well, that was quite surprising.

Tucking the key Izaya had begrudgingly given to him not even a month prior into his vest pocket, Shizuo quietly made his way over to his boyfriend. Even as he came to a stop right beside him, Izaya did not stir, eyes still shut and face still contorted in blissful peace.

For a second, Shizuo didn't have the heart to wake the informant up.

Then he recalled that the slumbering man was Izaya and if Shizuo would have been in his situation the mischievous informant would have woken him up long ago... And in a very unpleasant way.

With a tick of a blond eyebrow, Shizuo gripped the back of Izaya's swivel chair and pulled harshly, the informant finally snapping awake and flailing momentarily before he hit the floor with a dull thud. Blinking rapidly, Izaya's vision cleared the blurry mess that had obscured the image before himself, resulting in Shizuo's amused face staring down at him.

The informant promptly pouted. "Shizu-chan!" he cried, still laying flat on his back. "That was so rude!" Pushing himself up to his elbows, Izaya resisted the urge to wince as the cool sting at his lower back shot up and down between his shoulder blades.

Shizuo scoffed. "Like you wouldn't have done the same...or worse," he grumbled. Still, even with this knowledge, the blond offered a hand to his boyfriend, which was accepted after a short moment of pseudo deliberation.

With an impressive amount of control, Shizuo tugged Izaya to his feet without breaking the other man's arm, even helping steady the information broker when he stumbled a bit from vertigo.

"You all right?" Shizuo grunted out as Izaya nearly tumbled into him when his feet crossed paths in an unfortunate way. Bending his knees so that he was at eye-level with the informant's face, he removed his sunglasses and lay them aside on the other's desk, taking in the scrunched up expression and barely hidden winces. Immediately, the curiosity drained from his features and was replaced by guilt and worry. "Did I hurt you...?"

Izaya's crimson eyes snapped from where they had been dazedly focused on his pain to Shizuo's close (too close!) face. "No," the informant managed out, quickly snapping his gaze to the side – staring at his swivel chair as if he had never seen it before.

Shizuo frowned. "You look like you're in pain..."

A brief flash of reminiscent annoyance crossed Izaya's features before he managed a smirk. Turning his attention back to Shizuo with airy indifference, the informant reached up with his right hand and flicked the blond's forehead. "Stupid protozoan, I'm perfectly fine." To prove his point, the informant backed off from the blond and started towards the kitchen.

Not three steps in and a poorly muffled hiss passed his pursed lips.

He didn't have to turn around to see Shizuo's deadpan look; he could feel it boring into his aching back, the sheer frustration of imaging the protozoan's face morphing into one of "I told you so" searing the informant's blood.

Just as Izaya was thinking of simply brushing off Shizuo's obvious stare and continuing his way to the kitchen, the blond spoke up, "Well," he started. "Obviously something's wrong, and you're going to tell me, flea." A quick onslaught of steps and Shizuo's hand held the informant's thin wrist. The narrowing of honey eyes was obvious, even without glancing to his side. "Now."

Admitting one's pain was admitting one's weakness. This single line had been played over and over again in Izaya's mind, drilled into his consciousness to the point where it became the "norm". No force had managed to bypass it – until Shizuo came along, that is.

After grinding the informant for details for nearly half an hour in the kitchen, the blond had been rewarded with a very simple yet mind-numbing piece of information:

"My back hurts, you stupid brute, and you aren't making dealing with the pain any easier!"

Back pain? Back pain was crippling the infamous informant? Making him into some moody, easily frustrated human?

Shizuo was torn between laughing and continuing to gape at the lightly flustered informant.

The latter won.

"You've never complained about back pain before," Shizuo mumbled the words to accompany his gaping. "Not even when we-"

Izaya quickly cut the other man off. "Anyway," he growled out, ears tinted red. "Now you know, so can you please leave?" Sluggishly, he gestured towards the door.

The blond blinked. "You're kicking me out?"

"Obviously," Izaya mumbled, more to himself than the blond. "Besides, I want to rest..." Trailing off, crimson eyes glazed over as the informant muttered quietly to himself, mind evidently still stuck on his work, mentioning what Shizuo took to be something pertaining to a sex tape.

He wisely chose to ignore the comment and press on with the informant's pain issues, "Well, why not take pills? Maybe go see Shinra?"

Izaya huffed. "I don't need any pills. And I don't feel like seeing Shinra right now...he'll only increase my stress." Shizuo had to strain his hearing to hear the last bit of Izaya's mumbling, perking up as he did so.

"Stress?" the blond cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised.

Izaya smirked. "Why, yes, Shizu-chan. Pain can be caused by stress, among other factors. I thought even a protozoan like you would know that much..."

The once curious look melted into one of annoyance. "Shut it, flea. I do know stress can cause pain, I just...I just didn't know you could be stressed." Shizuo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking a little flustered for admitting such a thing.

Izaya raised a neat brow. "Oh?" he questioned, amused. However, before he could lash out some more taunting comments a subtle shift in his sitting position caused a sharp tremor of pain to shoot from his lower back all the way up to the base of his neck, assaulting everything in-between with waves of prickling pain. He stretched, hearing a handful of snaps, but even then the pain didn't fade away. With a soft, frustrated growl he shifted his hips and arched his back once more, hearing no snaps this time but feeling absolutely no change in the increasingly obnoxious pain. Just as he was about to continue his awkward wiggling, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Stop that," Shizuo whispered huskily. Clearing his throat of the lump that had formed from watching Izaya wiggle around provocatively, the ex-bartender removed his hand and leaned back in his seat. "If you're stressed out and it's causing back pain wouldn't a m-massage help?" A soft blush graced the blond's face, which earned a raised brow from Izaya but thankfully no comment.

"I suppose so," the informant instead said, nodding his head slowly. "But it's rather late right now-"

Shizuo cut him off, "I can do it."

A short, awkward pause.

"Excuse me?" Izaya managed out in a strained voice that was clearly torn between shock and mirth. "You? Give me a massage? Shizu-chan, my back already hurts. I don't need you snapping me in half." The last half of his statement was said in a slightly more serious tone, but still held a hint of amusement.

Biting back a caustic retort, Shizuo merely glared at the informant with darkened honey eyes. "I'm serious, you pest! I can give you a massage! That's what partners do for each other...right?" Uncertainty coated his words as he hesitantly looked to the side, avoiding Izaya's curious crimson stare.

"What; give each other massages? Where did you hear that?" The raven haired informant wasn't truly all that curious, but the dusting of pink that brushed softly along Shizuo's nose and cheeks made his prodding all the more delightful.

"Shut up! That's not important!" Shizuo growled the words out from behind clenched teeth, hands gripping the fabric of his bartender pants. His eyes darted from Izaya's smug, yet pain-laced face before tracing over the pricey table settled nicely in the informant's kitchen. For a second, he seemed to be on the brink of chucking said table at the raven haired man, pain be damned, and Izaya was already tensed up and ready to dart aside-

"I'll be gentle, okay?"

Izaya balked, blinking owlishly at the rapidly coloring blond. There was another awkward pause before the informant forced out a string of chuckles.

"Ah, Shizu-chan is getting all soft and mushy on me now," he chuckled, tugging his crimson gaze away from Shizuo and looking everywhere else but his person. "It so doesn't fit someone like you. Being all sentimental and such... Haha, have you been hanging around Shinra too much? Maybe you hit your head or something?" The dry, coerced chuckles continued to stream from his lips, their falsity painfully obvious to both the raven haired man and the blond.

"Flea," Shizuo started, but Izaya didn't look away from the cupboards he was oh so interested in examining. "You're in pain. There's no reason to be embarrassed-"

Izaya snarled at Shizuo's word choice. "I am not embarrassed, Shizu-chan!" he snapped, shifting his attention back to the still pink-faced blond. His own face was most likely burning pink or red if the scorching heat threatening to light his entire head on fire was any indication.

For a split second the blond man looked surprised at his boyfriend's uncharacteristic outburst, but recovered rather quickly and squinted at him. "Scared, then?" he offered helpfully...or not so helpfully, in the other man's opinion.

"No!" Izaya hissed out, the blush staining his features slowly blanching and instead leaving a heavy scowl in its wake. "I'm not embarrassed or scared or anything – I just don't want you breaking my back or making the pain worse!"

"Who says I'm going to make it worse?" Shizuo retaliated as soon as Izaya finished speaking. "I said I would be gentle and I will be! Besides, you can't possibly get any work done or even sleep properly with that pain, right?"

As much of a protozoan Izaya took Shizuo to be, he had to admit the brute did have his moments of brilliance. Given, they were rare and usually not all that impressive to the young informant, but in this case his remarks were spot-on.

Calming himself down from the hype of their verbal spat, Izaya nodded sulkily.

The ex-bartender grinned at the acknowledgment. "So?" he pressed.

"So what?" Izaya shot back gloomily.

A smile twitched upon Shizuo lips, one of amusement at Izaya's stubbornness and pride. "Would you like me to give you a massage or not?"

The raven haired informant snorted. "Not like I have much of a choice. You won't leave me alone unless I let you, right?" Shizuo flashed him a painfully sweet smile which made the younger man's brow twitch in annoyance. "Fine, you can give me a massage. But if you leave even one bruise, I'll break up with you. Got it?"

Shizuo resisted the urge to laugh as Izaya quickly stood from his chair, nearly making it topple over in the process. "Got it."

"You know," Shizuo started as he looked at Izaya's spacious bedroom with barely hidden disdain. "I always expected you to be the neat and tidy type."

Holding back a biting retort, Izaya shrugged off his trademark jacket and tossed it on top of an already over-crowded desk. It was true that his room was a tad...unkempt, but that was only because he had been swamped with Yamamoto-san's problems and said problems had carried themselves from his office to his bedroom, annihilating it in the process.

"I assure you, Shizu-chan, I am usually much more immaculate than this." Izaya wasn't sure Shizuo even knew what "immaculate" meant, but he didn't dwell on the subject as he made his way over to the bed (which, although not tidied, was the only surface not littered by papers and folders). "So, what now, Mr. Massage Therapist?" Plopping down on the king size bed, Izaya crossed his arms and looked at Shizuo with a teasing smirk.

Shooting Izaya a simple glare, Shizuo gestured to the bed then to the expectant informant. "Lay down and roll over onto your stomach."

He immediately regretted his choice of words upon seeing the twinkle of mischief light up Izaya's crimson eyes.

"Eh? How direct Shizu-chan," Izaya purred, leaning forward slightly. "If only you could be like this all the time!"

Shizuo's face became bright red in an instant. Whether from anger, embarrassment, or a mixture of the two, Izaya didn't know. "You know that's not what I meant, flea!" he snapped. "Now just hurry up and get on your stomach!"

The informant stuck out his tongue at the blond. "So pushy," he grumbled under his breath, but did as he was told leisurely, being careful not to move too much and further agitate his back.

Shifting around, the raven haired informant lowered himself carefully onto the plain white sheets, pushing aside the ones that bunched up around his chest and stomach until he lay perfectly flat with no bothersome obstructions. Nudging away the rest of the sheets with his legs, and frowning slightly as he heard the dull thump indicating they fell, Izaya pressed his legs down until they too lay flat on his bed. Wiggling momentarily, as if testing his position, Izaya hummed in approval after a few seconds, crossing his arms in front of himself and proceeding to rest his chin on his forearms.

"Ready when you are, Shizu-chan!" Izaya chirped, turning his head the slightest to grin up at the blond.

Said blond rolled his honey eyes. "Took you long enough," he grumbled, before disappearing from Izaya's view. The dip in the bed closest to Izaya's knees gave away his new location.

"Wait, hold on! What are you doing on the bed?" Izaya demanded, turning on his side (and wincing as the abrupt movement caused the stinging pain to return with a vengeance) just as Shizuo was leaning in.

Shizuo blinked. "I'm getting ready to give you a massage." he stated simply, even going so far as to shrug his shoulders casually.

"I know that!" Izaya shot back. "But why are you on the bed? Can't you do it standing up?"

Again, Shizuo merely blinked. "This is more comfortable," he shrugged, again, motioning to his currently kneeling position. "Plus, I don't have to bend down to reach your back, so it's easier, too."

Well, he did have a point there...

"Now hurry up and get on your stomach again." Shizuo reached over to place a hand on Izaya's shoulder as if to manually turn him, but then remembered why exactly he was going to massage the other and, afraid he would only hurt him further, retracted his hand.

"So pushy," Izaya voiced again. "Do you really want to see my backside so badly?" Grinning, the informant waggled his eyebrows at the other, earning an annoyed stare.

"Hurry up, pest, or I really will snap you in half." An empty threat, of course, but Izaya still squeaked as if he were actually frightened and rolled over so he was once again laying on his stomach.

"Shizu-chan's so scary," he whined, pressing his cheek against his crossed arms, crimson eyes staring at his over-crowded desk.

"Oh really?" Shizuo replied, voice oddly mellow. The soft creaks and protests the bed gave with his added weight and shifting made Izaya tense up, his slender fingers curling and uncurling around the fabric of his long-sleeve shirt. Neither man spoke up, the room absent of noise aside from the constant creaks the bed puffed out due to Shizuo adjusting himself accordingly.

And then, silence. No creaks, movement-

Nothing.

"You still alive back there, Shizu-chan?" Izaya asked, attempting to peer over his shoulder.

A scoff. "Of course, flea." Another short bout of silence. "You know, I was thinking-"

Izaya gasped. "Don't hurt yourself, Shizu-chan!"

Shizuo growled, reaching to his right and grasping the skin of Izaya's calf between his index finger and thumb; pinching. The informant's pained gasp made a victorious smirk form on his lips.

"As I was saying," Shizuo continued, releasing Izaya's flesh. "I think you should take off your shirt."

Izaya, who had been previously complaining about his calf and how it would bruise, balked. However, it didn't take long for a smirk to grace his own lips. "My, my, you really are direct today," he purred out, attempting to turn on his side. Unfortunately for him, Shizuo expected such from him and held his hips gently, preventing movement. With a whine and a wiggle, which did nothing, the raven haired man soon huffed out a sigh and lowered his chin to his arms once more. "Why do you want me to take my shirt off, anyway?" he questioned.

Shizuo shrugged. "I could rip it off if you don't remove it willingly." To accentuate his point, the blond removed one hand from the younger man's hips and placed said hand at the small of Izaya's back, dragging it down slowly and taking the dark fabric of the informant's shirt with it. Once the fabric was bunched up enough in his palm, he grasped it and gave three threatening tugs.

"Ah! Wait, don't rip it! This is my favorite shirt!" Izaya whined, wiggling around more freely now that only one hand held his hips down.

"Will you take it off?" Shizuo pressed, still giving the fabric small, quick tugs.

There was a moment of hesitation on Izaya's part as he recalled just how submissive he had been to Shizuo the entire day. He didn't want the brute to think he was going soft on him just because they were dating... But he didn't want his favorite shirt to get ripped to shreds! It was painful enough shopping around crowded stores (even if he had the chance to observe his precious humans), but actually finding clothes that fit him and didn't slip right off his shoulders-

Well, they were hard to come by.

Another insistent tug did it.

"Fine," Izaya mumbled, the reply nearly mouthed instead of actually spoken.

The tugging at his shirt ceased immediately and the hand that held his hips down was removed, allowing the informant to push himself up to his knees and pull the black long-sleeve shirt up over his head. With a spare glance, the shirt was tossed at the desk, missing by a mere inch or so and dragging Izaya's jacket down with it.

The informant huffed as he took in the two articles of clothing littering his already messy floor. "I hope you're happy," he muttered, not bothering to turn around and glare at his boyfriend.

"Very," Shizuo whispered, leaning forward to press his lips along the back of Izaya's neck, a smirk stretching across his lips as he brushed Izaya's shoulder blades. He felt the smaller man jolt, most likely startled by the sudden affection, and he couldn't help but chuckle against the informant's pale flesh upon feeling the skin become slightly rough; goosebumps, he identified proudly. "Now lay back down. Your back still hurts, right?"

Dazedly, Izaya nodded and once again found himself on his stomach, this time having to readjust and move up on the bed due to the close proximity Shizuo had on him. He felt the bed dip and squeak a few times as the blond also moved himself about on his knees, shuffling closer still. A nudging against the sides of his own knees forced Izaya to part his legs. He mumbled something about perverted blonds under his breath as Shizuo quickly shuffled between the small gap, the sides of his own knees now pressing against Izaya's.

"Ready?" Shizuo asked once comfortable with their rather suggestive position.

"As I'll ever be," Izaya replied, pressing his cheek against his now bare forearms. The informant glared at his messy desk for a few seconds, trying to take his mind off the brute about to rub down his back. But at the feel of those large, calloused hands pressing against his cool skin Izaya tensed, teeth gritting painfully.

"Relax," Shizuo whispered. Hunching over, and being careful not to press down on Izaya's back, he placed a tentative kiss to the informant's shoulder. The hesitant kiss seemed to quell some of the other man's nerves, seeing as he grew lax soon after Shizuo pulled himself upright. "You ready now?" the ex-bartender questioned gently.

A slow nod from the informant was his only answer. Releasing a trembling breath, the blond added slight pressure to the raven haired man's back. No protests or squirming; good. Slowly, ever so slowly, the blond trailed his hands down to the small of Izaya's back, warm fingers brushing against smooth ivory skin; kneading the flesh as best he could without hurting the other.

Moving his hands up slightly, the blond froze upon hearing an odd rumble from the raven. "Izaya?" he piped up meekly.

No answer came from the informant, no complaints or insults or whines, so Shizuo slowly started up his rubbing once more. Separating his hands from where they had been previously tightly pressed together, Shizuo carefully kneaded Izaya's sides. He earned a small shudder, but no rejection. Feeling a little more confident, he trailed his hands up leisurely, thumbs running along Izaya's spine softly.

Another odd rumble piqued his interest. Not stopping his rubbing, Shizuo leaned forward the slightest, ears perked and sensitive. It wasn't long before the odd rumble made itself known once more and this time the blond was able to identify exactly what it was: a purr.

Shizuo's face flushed at the realization. To think the flea was purring due to his actions. A peculiar, warm feeling grew in the blond's chest, making him feel absolutely giddy despite his impassive face.

Caressing Izaya's skin with much more confidence and vigor now, the blond almost missed the pleasured shiver that racked the informant's lithe body when his hand brushed back down his side.

Keyword: almost.

A slow grin spread across Shizuo's face. "Did that feel good, flea?" he purred out, running his hand back down Izaya's side teasingly. He was pleasantly surprised when Izaya's breath hitched. With a chuckle, the blond continued to gently knead the spot, thinking nothing of the twitches currently assaulting Izaya's hands and legs-

Until the informant gave a rather guttural moan.

Mistaking the moan for one of pain, Shizuo's hands flew from Izaya's back and clamped firmly at his sides as he stared at the flea's back with apprehensive honey eyes. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?" he rushed the words out, nearly meshing them together, his heart beating thunderously within his chest.

His only response were greedy huffs of breath as Izaya desperately sucked in air only to let it all whoosh out the next second. The informant was far gone, much farther than he himself had expected to go. His heartbeat played over and over in his ears, obscuring sound and Shizuo's frantic questions, and the heat- Oh, the scorching heat! His entire body felt much too warm despite being half-clothed in a rather cool room.

And then, there was...that.

That one little spot on his back that had caused a cold chill to attack him so suddenly... That one spot which Shizuo had unknowingly been teasing him with tortuously.

That damn spot which, upon being stimulated so cruelly, fucking excited him...

If Izaya's body had been burning before, it was now readying to incinerate itself.

"Izaya?" Shizuo questioned once more, voice sounding much too small for a man of his size and strength. Hesitantly, he brought one hand up to softly prod the informant's shoulder. "Iza-"

"I'm fine!" Izaya choked out a bit too loudly, finally calming his heartbeat enough to stop the pounding in his ears and hear his boyfriend. He gulped, swallowing excess saliva that had accumulated due to the spark of arousal. "Just... Just don't touch me there." he forced out, straining his voice as his lower abdomen pulsed with wanton need.

Shizuo's honey eyes shone with concern, obviously still unaware of Izaya's state of arousal. "Where, here?" he pressed softly against the informant's shoulder.

Pressing his forehead against the mattress, blunt nails sliding against white sheets, Izaya chuckled throatily and shook his head slowly. "Lower," he teased, although his voice wavered as his hips shifted, desperately searching for friction.

Frowning, Shizuo removed his hand and looked down the expanse of Izaya's back. He remembered the moan from earlier. So then that "lower" spot must be-

"Here, then?" Shizuo asked, more to himself than the informant. Placing one large hand at the raven haired man's side and slowly sliding it down, the blond was met with a surprisingly violent reaction.

With a choked out moan that was clearly intended to be muffled, the informant jolted in the debt collector's general location, his backside thrusting against Shizuo's thighs and groin in a way that suggested the event was anything but accidental.

"Sh-Shizuooo," Izaya mewled out, breaths coming out in short, stuttered pants. He jutted his hips back instinctively, panting harshly against the steadily moistening mattress. The hand at his back's side abruptly left its place, a sigh of relief passing Izaya's wet lips, but the relief was short-lived as the older man instead chose to grip his quivering hips.

"What's wrong, Izaya-kun?" Shizuo huskily whispered, leaning forward so that his chest was rubbing at Izaya's back delicately. "Could it be that you got turned on from me touching you?" he chuckled, the oddly fond chorus sending several shivers down Izaya's spine.

"O-Of course not," Izaya shot back, licking his lips soon afterward. It wasn't exactly true. He had only reacted to Shizuo's actions when the brute happened upon that...that spot. "Now, get off! You've done enough for one day."

Placing both palms flat against the mattress, Izaya was genuinely surprised when Shizuo moved backwards, allowing him to rise to his knees and turn to look at him with a flushed face. What he saw made his stomach fill with dread.

The blond was sporting a blush of his own, lighter than Izaya's but still quite visible, and his eyes were darkened greatly with unveiled lust. However, what bothered the informant the most was Shizuo's smile. It was just that: a smile. No smirk or grin. Just a smile.

The feeling of dread became worse.

"Now, now, Shizu-chan," Izaya started despite the lump forming in his throat. Gulping thickly, he backed up a bit on his bed, thankful that it was so big. "Let's not do anyth-mmph!"

A swift kiss and a slight push abruptly cut off the flushed informant.

Finding himself on his back now (which, thankfully, had stopped aching so much), Izaya glowered up at the no longer smiling but smirking Shizuo.

"Shizu-chan," he growled dangerously, crimson eyes flickering from the blond's smirk to the smoldering honey eyes.

"What is it, Izaya-kun?" Shizuo replied in a far too chipper voice. Izaya opened his mouth, ready to spew insults, when Shizuo's index finger pressed against his lips, silencing him. "If you're going to tell me to stop, don't bother," the debt collector stated plainly, removing his index finger only to allow the entire hand to brush down the informant's flat stomach, stopping at the hip bone peeking out from under his dark jeans. Izaya's breath hitched when the hand ghosted lower, brushing against the bulge at the front of his pants. "This is proof that you don't want me to stop."

For a mere second Izaya faltered, but his momentary defeat was quickly shoved aside as he realized one very important fact Shizuo seemed to have conveniently forgotten. "But Shizu-chan," he started in a voice that, though teasing, had a pinch of seriousness. "My back is barely feeling better. If you decide to go through with your protozoan urges I'll end up in even more pain. You don't want that...do you?"

Izaya was proud to note the stiffness in Shizuo's shoulders once his words sunk in. Although the two continuously tossed hurtful comments at each other, and even still held their little game of cat and mouse in Ikebukuro, the raven knew the blond was not capable of hurting him when he was already aching – especially since he had witnessed the informant's pain earlier.

Just as a smug smirk was plastering itself on Izaya's face the older man, who had apparently been lost in thought, jolted and grinned. Izaya's smirk faltered.

"What's with thaAAAH!"

With quick movements that even Izaya had trouble seeing, the blond hauled the raven up from the bed and into his arms, Izaya's legs reflexively wrapping around his torso. When the room stopped tilting after a few harsh blinks, the informant leaned back slightly and glared at the blond's grinning face.

"What the hell was that for, Shizu-chan?" he demanded, expression contorted into one of pure annoyance.

"You said so yourself," Shizuo replied breezily, shuffling backwards while still keeping Izaya suspended near his chest. "Since I can't follow through with the 'protozoan urges' I had in mind earlier, I'll just have to make due with something else." Stretching out his long legs, the blond gently placed Izaya on his thighs, his hands resting casually on the small of the informant's back.

Izaya shuffled on his lap, clearly uncomfortable, but carefully hid the feeling away behind a twitching smirk. "And how exactly- Hey!" Once again, the younger man was cut off. This time by Shizuo tugging at the front of his pants brutally, snapping off the button and permanently damaging the zipper. "Shizuo! These pants were hard to find!" he complained, starting to wiggle a little more frantically.

The blond debt collector paid him no heed, choosing to instead tear off the remains of Izaya's tattered pants ("Hey! Quit it!") before moving to carefully unbutton and unzip his own, pushing down his trousers and boxers simultaneously; freeing his pulsating erection. An amused grin made his lips twitch upward upon hearing Izaya's undignified gasp.

"Shizu-chan! I told you, I'll end up with more back pain!" His struggles, which had died down previously, were renewed.

"And I told you, I'm doing something different. Now...hold...still!" With one arm, the ex-bartender managed to hold Izaya in an awkward embrace, stopping his flailing. The other hand headed south and, ignoring Izaya's threats and protests, the blond casually ripped off the dark boxers the informant wore with a flick of his wrist.

"SHIZUO!" Izaya nearly screeched, his pride keeping him from losing complete control over his temper. "Stop ripping all my clothes or I'll have nothing to wear!"

Shizuo smirked. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

Izaya gawked, amazed Shizuo had pulled off such a line so casually. Opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, unsure whether to tease the other or congratulate him, Izaya was unprepared for the hand that suddenly snaked around his erection, a thumb dragging up the underside vein slowly. A shuddering moan ripped past the informant's throat and escaped his lips, leaving the pale mouth wide open. Shizuo took this as an invitation and dived in, lips crashing together a little more violently than he expected due to the close proximity. Izaya didn't seem to mind much, though, as he was soon eagerly returning the kiss despite his earlier protests, his hands – now no longer held at his sides by Shizuo – wove through the blond hair, tugging insistingly for more.

Shizuo pulled away slightly, wet breath brushing Izaya's lips in small, short puffs. "So eager," he teased in a husky whisper. His warm, calloused hand stilled on Izaya's erection for a sheer second, then slowly slid upwards, the tips of his fingers tracing the bulging veins and causing the cock to tremble with desperate want.

Gulping thickly to swallow down the excess saliva threatening to dribble down his chin, Izaya fixed a weak crimson glare on his suddenly playful lover. "You dick," he managed out in a loud, yet extremely strained voice.

Shizuo raised a blond brow. "Oh? I'm the dick?" He nearly barked out a laugh at seeing Izaya's hasty nod. The tip of the other's erection had started to moisten due to Shizuo's stroking, a small pool of semen gathering at the very tip and overflowing, dribbling down the erect organ seductively. The blond debt collector peeked down, watching in fascination as the drop slid down Izaya's cock only to bump along his fingers, sliding over them lazily. He growled. "If anyone's a dick, it's you. I'm doing all the work here." To emphasize his point, he wrapped his hand around the base of Izaya's erection and pumped.

"Ngh!" Biting down on his bottom lip, Izaya barely muffled the moan tickling his throat. Reaching out to grip onto something – anything – the informant found his blunt nails digging into the other man's abs, scratching down out of frustration.

The blond didn't even flinch, his wrist continuing to flick expertly, pumping at a painfully slow pace that made Izaya's eyes burn and water.

"Nngh...F-mm! Fine!" The informant choked out, a tiny stream of drool dribbling down his chin as he squirmed on Shizuo's lap. Pulling his hands from where they had been making angry red lines on Shizuo's stomach, the raven haired man sloppily put them to work on Shizuo's own throbbing erection; teasing the soft tip with his left thumb as his right hand dipped lower and squeezed the base of the blond's cock, prying a mix between a moan and growl from the debt collector.

Izaya managed a cheeky grin that looked out of place with his flushed face. "Haa haa...heh... W-Who's the d-dick now?" he rasped, swallowing down whimpers and moans in an attempt to be coherent. Said attempt, though surprisingly successful, mattered little to Shizuo as he grinned and ducked his head, nipping at Izaya's lips playfully.

"Don't know. Maybe the one who finishes first?" he squeezed the raven's furiously twitching erection and reveled in the loud moan he received.

"Is," Izaya gulped yet again, trying not to drool anymore than he had already. "Is that a challenge, Shizu-chan?"

"Nope," the blond replied quickly, stopping his hand and thus causing Izaya's own hands to stop moving as well. There was only a second of eye contact, Shizuo's honey eyes smoldering and Izaya's crimson dazed and confused, before the world spun for the two and the raven let out a gasp as the air was knocked out of him, his body bouncing up from the force of being pushed back onto his bed so abruptly.

"What?" Izaya blinked up at his ceiling, utterly baffled, until Shizuo's form blocked his view.

"It's not a challenge," Shizuo clarified, grasping Izaya's hands (which had been knocked to rest at either side of his head) with his own larger ones. At the raven's still confused look, Shizuo smiled the gentlest smile Izaya had seen from him the entire day. Leaning his head down so his lips were pressing softly against the informant's right ear, Shizuo nipped at it a few times before whispering, "Just relax and enjoy yourself."

Izaya felt his entire being twitch and swell with heat at the words laced with affection. Just as he was about to put up a facade and tease Shizuo for the line, the other released his left hand in favor of creeping it downward. Pushing down the lower half of his body, Shizuo bit his lower lip as his leaking, needy erection tapped Izaya's own, earning an energized moan that successfully cut off any comment the informant had in mind.

"S-Shizuooo," Izaya moaned out, choking on his drool and flinching as some of it dribbled out the corner of his mouth.

Barely cutting off a moan of his own at hearing Izaya say his name so lustfully, Shizuo coaxed the informant's hips a little higher up on the bed, leveling their erections together. With one swift glance at the informant's flushed, panting face the blond swallowed thickly and gripped both cocks in his warm hand.

Izaya jerked his hips up immediately. "Shizuo!" he cried out, his hips rolling up in uncontrolled, sloppy thrusts as he sought his pleasure.

This time, the blond was unable to stop a throaty moan. "Izaya..." he panted, shivering at the friction Izaya's thrusts were causing. Panting heavily, the informant lolled his head back, trying to make eye contact with the other without stopping his thrusts. His eyes, filled with tears, caught Shizuo's own for a swift second before the blond pumped his hand. Those lovely crimson eyes rolled back in the informant's head, his right hand clenching Shizuo's own free hand while the other gripped the sheets tightly.

"Shizuo!" Izaya cried out, masking a whimper by clamping his bottom lip between his teeth. The blond smiled nevertheless, already used to such reactions from the proud informant.

Continuing to pump his hand up and down both cocks, assisted by the constant thrusts of Izaya's hips, Shizuo's mind was quick to fog over with pure lust as his own hips began shifting back and forth slowly. The movement went unnoticed by the two panting individuals, Izaya's sole focus being to keep moving his hips, even when that sharp sting at the small of his back started to nip at him, and Shizuo's own focus was on Izaya; face flushed, mouth agape, moans finally being allowed to leave his lips in choked out gasps...

The pressure in his groin built at the image, cock pulsating against Izaya's. As if he felt the pulsation, Izaya bucked his hips much more frantically, gasps and grunts escaping him as he pushed upwards. Shizuo groaned at the shift of pace, his own hips picking up speed and brushing against Izaya's with more force, his pumping becoming sloppier and sloppier as desperation took hold of his actions.

With Izaya's moans echoing all around him, swimming through his ears, Shizuo found his release rushing towards him quickly. The bed squeaked and protested as the two started bucking against each other almost violently, bodies nearly melding together if not for Shizuo's hand separating them with his constant pumping.

Gods, he was close. So close, close, close-

"S-Shizu-chan!" Izaya cried desperately; warningly. The blond's arousal jumped, the informant's voice affecting him terribly now that he was so turned on and close.

Licking his lips, Shizuo nodded in understanding, unable to speak.

With one quick, harsh thrust upward Izaya cried out an odd mix of a moan and Shizuo's name, sticky warmth splattering onto his stomach and hitting Shizuo's painfully throbbing erection as well. The informant's cries, mixed with the feel of his seed splashing against him, triggered the blond's own orgasm and he came with a guttural moan, barely able to hold himself up above the furiously panting raven haired man.

After one harsh intake of breath, Shizuo managed to pull himself up to his knees, releasing Izaya's limp cock and hand in order to toss himself to the other man's side, the bed creaking at his act of exhaustion.

Having caught his breath sufficiently enough, Izaya turned over on his side to face the blond still taking in greedy breaths of air. He winced.

"Hey, Shizu-chan?" he started tentatively.

"Yeah?" Shizuo replied breathlessly, turning his head to face the pink-faced informant.

Izaya looked positively sheepish as he spoke, "My back hurts again."

A prolonged pause settled in before Shizuo rolled over on his side with a wicked grin.

"Then let me help you, Izaya-kun."

Author's Note: This was written for the DRRR! kink meme, and it's my first ever story written for a meme so...hooray! I apologize for the potential out of character lines and such; I haven't read the manga or novels, nor have I seen the anime yet. I'm also terrible at smut. Still, I hope the requester, and all you other lovely readers, enjoy this.