A/N: Hello, people of the DRRR fandom~! This is my first (serious) Durarara fanfiction (because the other is total crack xD)... yezzz I love Shizaya :D

Hurr... jail fics are smexy *drools*

Disclaimer: Not ownin' Durarara, here, pplz ;)

Izaya sighed heavily to himself, cradling his head in his left hand and pressing the heel of his right palm against his eye. This was not where he wanted to be spending his Saturday night; he had a city to throw into chaos. However, it wasn't bright neon lights and cool night air that surrounded him. Instead, he was met by the musty smell of a dank, uncleaned cell and bars. Cold, lightly rusted metal bars that cast long, thin shadows into the concrete cubicle that trapped him, the only light being what little trickled in from the main hallway. The informer groaned and dropped his head, letting his arms dangle helplessly at his sides as he leaned forward, still seated on the hard prison bench. Damn cops. He'd done so many illegal things; was it seriously this that they finally caught him for?

"Ridiculous," he muttered to the empty cell. Luckily, there were no other inmates in the particular cell he'd been tossed in for the night. "Damn it, Namie... why does she have to keep her cell phone off?" He rolled his vermillion eyes. His sisters were out of the question, as well; Mairu and Kururi wouldn't dream of letting him live this down. He smirked bitterly as a scene played out in his mind. He was on his deathbed, and the twins, hair grey and skin wrinkled with age, snickering about how "Izanii" had been caught all those years ago. Those girls were more trouble than even he was sometimes. With a soft, humorless chuckle, he lifted his head and suddenly picked up on the sound of of polished shoes tapping down the concrete hallway.

Here he comes, he thought to himself. What does he want now? He folded his legs calmly and placed his hands in his lap, determined not to let him see just how badly this situation irritated him. He'd made the mistake of muttering an insult under his breath earlier which, unfortunately, the officer on duty had been keen enough to pick up on, and the man now had a haughty expression on his face every time he passed by Izaya's cell, none-too-subtly taking a peek at him as he walked by to see if Izaya was showing an signs of frustration. As if he'd give the stupid bastard the satisfaction. He loved humans, but some... some were just uncommonly annoying. That clique of Ganguro Girls who were constantly strutting around the streets of Ikebukuro, for example, or the idiot cop that had given him a fresh bruise around his wrists from the handcuffs. As if the mighty Orihara Izaya being paraded around the streets like a common criminal wasn't enough, the fool had to go and practically cut off the circulation to his hands. And, to top it all off, they'd taken his switchblade! Yes, his precious switchblade – gone for the whole night!

Needless to say, the brunette was not exceedingly happy with the situation.

The door to his cell was suddenly unlocked, and the cop led a tall, built figure into the cell. His face was masked by the poor lighting. "New cellmate, Orihara," the officer said coldly, perhaps a note of contempt in his voice. "I think you'll like this one." Izaya was tempted to laugh as the man left. He could handle any person he was stuck with, one way or another. That is, unless it was the one person he was never able to handle quite well enough, the one he was always running into trouble with, the one human that annoyed him above all others. He could handle them easily, unless, by some misfortune, his new cellmate was...

Oh, no way. They had to be joking with him. "...Shizu-chan?"

The blonde, whom the informant had first identified by the glinting blue glasses and shaggy blonde hair, was now fiddling with a sleeve cuff and grumbling something about 'retard cops dragging him in for something as stupid as a little fight'. He suddenly paused in his fidgeting, turning around slowly with a death glare on his face. "Flea?" he asked through gritted teeth. Izaya groaned.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath before his voice was replaced by a sharp gasp as he was thrown against a wall. He slumped against the concrete, unable to repress the tiny groan that escaped his lips. Before he could stand, angry stomping was followed by a strong grip squeezing his throat as he was yanked into a standing position. He smiled as best he could. "Now, now, Shizu-chan, you're already in here for a fight. Sure you want to start another one?" His voice, despite his effort, sounded weak as the other man choked him, losing its smooth, condescending flow. He mentally cursed himself as he fixed the blonde with an arrogant eye.

"Yeah, that's right, Flea," Shizuo growled as he shook Izaya forcefully. "I'm already in here. One more little scuffle can't make things too much worse." The dangerous look in the ex-bartender's eyes told Izaya that the blonde really did plan to start something in their miniscule jail cell. This prompted the brunette to swallow his pride and admit the truth.

"I'm un... have...nowhere..." he mumbled too softly for the other to clearly make out his words, averting his narrowed eyes.

Shizuo frowned at him. "What was that, bastard?"

"I'm unarmed and have nowhere to run to," he confessed shortly, his voice so soft that Shizuo barely heard it. The brunette's attacker's grip loosened, and he fell to his knees and drank in a few gulps of air before he smirked up at the bodyguard. "Doesn't seem very fair, does it, Shizu-chan?" Shizuo snorted.

"Whatever. Damn flea. I'm just letting you off easy for now because I don't want to have to sleep with the stench of your rotting corpse." Ah, Shizu-chan, Izaya mused. Ever eloquent. The informant stood and brushed himself off with as much dignity as he could muster after being held, helpless, against a wall. Shizuo watched him, a scowl on his face and distrust clear in his chocolate eyes. Izaya collapsed against the hard bench once again, sighing in mock-contentment and smirking at the blonde, a keen look in his eyes.

"So, Shizu-chan," he began dangerously. "What are you in here for? Surely you should be out ripping up street signs or wrecking vending machines or something?" Shizuo's frown deepened.

"I could ask you the same question," he retorted sourly. "And I'd watch it if I were you, I may 'accidentally' snap your neck if you piss me off too bad." The ex-bartender smiled crookedly, and Izaya's pale fingers slipped into his coat pocket, habitually searching for a switchblade that wasn't there. He 'tch'd under his breath, remembering his disarmament, and folded his arms testily, looking away for a split second as his cocky smirk faltered momentarily. Shizuo didn't miss that, and he strutted over, one hand in his pocket, the other removing his blue glasses.

"So, you understand your position?" the blonde asked, leaning over Izaya. The informant sighed, closing his eyes as a teasing grin took his face.

"My, my," he murmured, leaning back. "Shizu-chan sure is scary." He couldn't repress a chuckle as the sound of Shizuo grinding his teeth met his ears. "You didn't answer my question."

The bodyguard exhaled heavily and folded his glasses, tucking them into his vest. "Some drunk bastard took a swing at me 'cause I ran into him on the streets," he admitted. He crossed his arms and 'hmph'd distastefully. "We got into a fight, but I didn't get the chance to rough him up too bad before a couple of cops stepped in." Suddenly, he smirked, eyes glittering. "What'd they finally get you for? Drug one too many people and drop 'em off a building in a suitcase?" Izaya snickered gleefully, recalling his previous antics; the look on the girls' faces when they realized he'd spiked their drinks? Priceless. That should be in a Mastercard commercial. Too bad he hadn't actually killed them, but he liked to think that he was just a little above completely pointless murder.

"Hardly," the information broker replied. "As if I'd ever get caught doing that – I'm much more careful than most people care to be, you know. This time, it was simple shoplifting." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Shizuo laughed contemptuously. "You, shoplifting? What would you ever need to do that for?"

Izaya shrugged once again. "There was a long line, and I didn't feel like waiting. I needed to get over to your side of town to bug you." His devious smile was met with a low growl from the ex-bartender. "I guess it wasn't one of my better ideas, but, I mean, I've done it countless times before. I suppose it never really occurred to me that even I could be caught." With that, he closed his eyes, shifting to lie down as he chuckled to himself. "Did you ever wonder what it would be like to be invincible?"

Shizuo started, not expecting the question. "Well... I suppose," he mumbled, looking away from the informant. He took a seat on the dirty floor, not wanting to get too close to the brunette and risk (heaven forbid) coming into contact with him on the bench. Instead, he studied the ceiling, wondering how on earth its dirty stains had gotten all the way up there.

"Ah, that's right," Izaya mused, smiling at the very same ceiling. "Shizu-chan is already invincible. The strongest man in Ikebukuro has nothing to fear, neh?" With that, he laughed, a conceited smile appearing on his face. "I must be rather impressive not to have been snapped like a twig yet! Or perhaps it's fate, or God."

Shizuo glanced at him. "I thought you were an atheist?"

"That I am," he replied, nodding.

A long silence stretched between them. There was nothing awkward about it, really – well, as much so as this situation could allow; there was simply nothing to talk about. Finally, Shizuo spoke.

"I'm not invincible."

Izaya propped himself up on one elbow to better see the blonde, his curiosity piqued. "Eh? What's this, Shizu-chan?"

"I said I'm not as invincible as everyone thinks," the blonde admitted, frowning as a peculiar expression assumed his face. It was the first time that Izaya had ever seen him looking... not angry. "I... really let my brother down. I'm sure he hates me, or is at least pretty disappointed. Guarding Tom is the first job I've been able to really hold down. It's not like I've got that many friends, and..."

"And what?" Izaya prompted, curious.

"And sometimes... this strength that I can't control... I hate it. I sometimes... hate myself."

Izaya watched, his eyes growing just a little wider. "Well, well," he murmured. "So Shizu-chan does have a weakness." He stared at the blonde, a bit surprised. He always thought that Shizuo was just an asshole who claimed he didn't like violence simply to make an excuse for himself, but maybe... he didn't know. This was all too weird. Trapped in a cell with Shizuo... talking about invincibility and friends and inner secrets... even being here... just too weird.

"This is insane," Izaya mumbled, voicing his thoughts. "Absolutely bizarre." He frowned suddenly, remembered something Shizuo had said. "Hey, Shizu-chan," he called. The blonde tore his eyes away from the ceiling to look at the informant.


"You said you don't have that many friends," Izaya reminded him. Shizuo nodded. Izaya frowned; why did he feel compelled to say this? Oh, well. He'd chalk it up to something else weird. "You have plenty of friends, stupid. You just don't think about it. Shinra, Celty, Kida-kun... that Mikado kid, too, right? And the girl with the tits they're always hanging out with. The otaku kids who always hang out with Kadota like you well enough, so does Kadota himself, Tom has to like you pretty well if he hasn't fired you yet... and obviously, my sisters like you more than me. Actually, now that I think about it," he laughed. "I'm pretty sure everyone likes you more than they like me!"

Shizuo's eyes suddenly narrowed. "What do you mean by that? They all act nice enough to you, too."

"Well, it's pretty simple, Shizu-chan," Izaya sighed, shrugging. "It's just that... all those people I've just listed don't actually like me, even if they act civil toward me. I think the only friend I may have in this world is Namie, and that's only because she's as arrogant of a person as I am... but she's in love with her brother, so I'm not sure she counts." He snickered to himself, though this monologue was actually depressing him; he hadn't thought about any of this until now, but... it was all true, wasn't it? "Yeah, my parents don't even like me. If anything bad happened... well, I'd be all alone." He rolled his eyes as he felt a strange emotion creep over him. Was that... loneliness? Or... betrayal? No, no... what would anyone betray him for when nobody was really loyal to him in the first place?

Ugh, too weird.

Shizuo's expression was an odd one, to be sure. It looked like he was torn between contempt and... concern? Was that concern there? Izaya frowned and looked away, wondering why he ca– er, not caring. "Izaya..."

"Yes, Shizu-chan!" he cried. "Even me, the great Orihara Izaya, has a weakness; it's that I lose everybody to the fact that I'm an asshole!" He tried to laugh as he sat up, but for once, he was in a situation where he couldn't even find the smallest drop of humor. Perhaps that's why it came out more like choked yelp. "Isn't it funny that you're the only person I know that has no reservations whatsoever about expressing what they really think of me?"

Shizuo stared. And blinked. And his brown eyes widened as the thought registered. Izaya, as toying and arrogant as he was, as much of a condescending bastard that he made himself out to be... the truth was, Orihara Izaya was not all that happy. He loved humanity, but the humans he so adored certainly didn't love him as he saw fit. Perhaps it was that thought that prompted Heiwajima Shizuo to scoot just a little closer on the hard, cold floor of their lonely jail cell and allow the smallest of smirks to take his lips. "That's my job, and you make it ridiculously easy," he joked, leaning back on his hands.

Izaya was surprised by the tone of Shizuo's voice – it seemed almost friendly – but somehow felt himself returning the smile. "Making your job easy is my job," he replied, winking. "You know you love trying to kill me."

Shizuo rolled his head back, once again directing his eyes toward the ceiling. "It certainly makes life a little more interesting, despite the fact that I'm probably going to burst a vein one of these days, the way your sense of 'humor' gets my blood pressure up." Izaya let loose a genuine laugh.

"Maybe it's simply an infatuation with me that makes your heart pound so violently, Shizu-chan," Izaya suggested in a mock-seductive tone. "After all, I am pretty stunning." After chuckling once more to himself, he rolled onto his stomach on the bench, allowing an arm to dangle down as a thin finger traced an invisible pattern on the floor. The fur from his jacket hood tickled the side of his face, and a relaxed sigh escaped his lips. Too weird, he thought again. I thought for sure one of us would be dead by now.

Shizuo looked toward the informant, slightly amazed that there hadn't been numerous threats thrown back and forth yet, or even an outright fight. In fact, he could hardly imagine assaulting the informant at the moment. He watched as the man dragged his pale finger around in odd circles and loops on the floor as he laid on his stomach, eyes trained on his moving hand and a content look on his face. For once, the informant didn't look vicious or evil... not even like that much of a conceited twat at the moment. He seemed... sort of normal. Or, whatever degree of 'normal' that Izaya could possibly achieve. He raised an eyebrow. Hmm...

Izaya suddenly looked up from his mindless doodling. He smirked. "Would you look at that! Shizu-chan can't take his eyes off of me! Perhaps he really is infatuated with me? Hn. I wouldn't be surprised, the way you-"

Unfortunately, Izaya was unable to complete his sentence, because at that moment, a set of lips was pressed to his. Wh... what? He wondered. I... what's going on... is he...? His eyes grew wide as the realization hit him full-force. Heiwajima Shizuo was kissing him. Shizuo was kissing him. He thought his heart would beat right out of his chest. Holy shit, he thought. Oh my God...

Before he could force himself to react, a tongue was shoved into his mouth, and he gasped, tensing up before tentatively allowing himself to kiss back, hesitantly at first, then more confidently, harsher. He closed his eyes and pushed his tongue against Shizuo's as the foreign appendage explored his mouth. Shizuo prowled forward, coming closer and sitting on his knees before the bench. Izaya reached sideways and took a fistful of Shizuo's hair. What was he doing? He didn't know. He could roll with it, though; it was, after all, turning out to be a pretty weird night.

Slowly, he dismounted from the bench, pushing Shizuo's away to pant and drink in the air, lungs screaming. As he refilled his lungs, the proportion of what had just occurred finally hit him. "W-what was that?" he demanded, standing unsteadily before Shizuo's seated form. The ex-bartender's eyes were wide, and he stared up at Izaya, unmoving, unblinking, before shaking his head, looking at his shaking hands as though he weren't sure what he'd just done. Izaya wasn't sure, either; did he and Heiwajima Shizuo actually just kiss? Seriously, like...?

"I... didn't... mean to," Shizuo mumbled, not looking at Izaya.

"But the thing is, you did, Shizuo!" he cried, abandoning the nickname for once. "You did mean for that to happen, because you did it!"

"Hey!" Shizuo shouted in response. "Don't pin this all on me, bastard flea, you kissed me back!"

Izaya didn't have anything to say to this; after all, what Shizuo said was true. He had kissed Shizuo back – hard. And yeah... he'd actually not minded it so much... 'til afterwards...

Shizuo saw the confused look on Izaya's face. Well, Shizuo thought. If he's confused about something, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I helped him figure it out. The blonde, surprisingly, had found the flea to be a rather good kisser, and, well... he had sort of... not hated it. Yeah. With an exasperated sigh – he wasn't sure he liked all these thoughts going around in his head – he grabbed the flustered brunette and pulled him down, locking lips with him once again. The brunette struggled at first, but once Shizuo had pushed him against the floor and clambered on top of him, Izaya stopped squirming, seeming to accept his fate and reciprocating the kiss, even wrapping his arms around Shizuo's neck.

Izaya's mind was filled with a million thoughts, all bouncing around at the same time. His mouth, however, seemed to have a mind of its own, and he suddenly found it working rather viciously against Shizuo's, attempting to introduce his tongue to the bodyguard's mouth, but instead being defeated and being forced to give access to the blonde, who lashed at the informer's tongue remorselessly. And then... then he mind started to work in sync with his mouth... and then his mind was blank, and it was only his mouth, as well as Shizuo's, and his hand around Shizuo's neck, the other latched onto the silky locks of Shizuo's hair... Shizuo straddled across his middle... Shizuo's hand slowly snaking its way up his blue shirt... Shizuo... Shizuo...

How had his jacket gotten off of his body? Oh, well. That didn't matter, because suddenly, Shizuo's tongue retreated, and another chaste kiss was planted on his lips before the blonde instead took a sharp nip at the informant's ear. "A-ah!" Izaya gasped. "Shizu-chan! Stop it!"

"Fine," Shizuo grumbled before attacking the informant's mouth once again, still just as relentless.

Suddenly, they froze. The poignant clicking of expensive heels tapped down the hallway toward their cell, accompanied by the sound of another set of shoes. The police officer was leading a woman toward them.

"...had a message on my cell phone saying he needed to be bailed out," the female's voice said, sounding irritated. Namie...! Izaya realized with a jolt. He couldn't move. Couldn't breath. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for the shriek.

To his surprise, it didn't come, even after the footsteps stopped. Slowly, he cracked one eye open, followed by the other, and turned to see Namie standing before the bars, looking on with an expression of mild shock. He smiled nervously, realizing his hands were still buried in Shizuo's hair, and uncurled the one hand from Shizuo's neck, waving slightly as a hesitant chuckle escaped him. The woman's expression changed to one of exasperation. "I don't wanna know, just get out from under him," she stated bluntly, while the police officer unlocked their cell in a daze. Izaya shrugged before attempting to wriggle out from under Shizuo, to which Shizuo grunted and flushed slightly, dismounting his waist so that Izaya could better right himself.

The informer, with as much dignity as he could muster after being caught in such a compromising situation, stood and cleared his throat, running a hand though his tangled hair in an attempt to fix it at least somewhat. He walked unevenly across the few feet of the cell to retrieve his jacket, which he then donned before glancing back at Shizuo with a mixed expression. On the one hand, this was Shizu-chan – the guy he regularly antagonized and fought with – but on the other hand... well, yeah.

As he exited the cell, he bit his lip before tapping Namie in the shoulder lightly. The woman turned to look at him, and he scowled and flushed a little under her critical gaze. Either way, he shrugged it off and looked away. "I think Shizu-chan already called Tom, but... ah... will you call him again?" She rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm supposed to have his number?"

Izaya frowned. "Right." He turned back to Shizuo, who stared at him through the bars. "Shizu-chan... what's Tom's number?" Shizuo blinked, obviously surprised, but gave the information to him anyway.

Izaya turned to Namie and nodded for her to get on with it, and with a glare and a sigh, she dialed the number and made sure that it was ringing before she handed Izaya the phone. It wasn't until the very end of the fourth ring that Tom picked up.

"Hello?" the man's voice asked.

Izaya cleared his throat, still trying to get all of his bearings, and, in the most collected tone he could muster, said, "Tom Tanka? This is Orihara Izaya."

"Oh, God," the man groaned on the other line. "Have you killed my bodyguard? I knew I shouldn't have given him the night off..."

"No, no," Izaya assured him with a chuckled. With a side glance toward the blonde, he added, "Though I would've liked to." The words caused Shizuo to perk up and fix him with a challenging gaze, obviously wondering what exactly Izaya would like to do to him. "But the reality is, Shizu-chan is sitting in a jail cell at the moment and would be delighted if you'd come and pick him up."

Tom's voice did not come through for a long time. When he finally spoke, he muttered, "I don't know why your telling me this, but whatever. I'll go get him, thanks. I've been getting crappy service all night... guess I must've missed his call."

"Don't mention it, Tom," Izaya murmured airily while sneering at the guard, who, having come out of his shock-induced stupor, was now frowning at him, surely put out by the fact that his plan to have Izaya beaten to a pulp hadn't turned out quite as he'd expected. "Just doing my job. You owe me ten bucks for that information, by the way."

"What... you!" Tom began to rage.

"Just kidding," Izaya hissed dangerously before hanging up and handing the phone back to Namie. He almost turned back to see Shizuo's expression, but something kept him looking forward, and he gathered his knife, cell phone, and other belongings before stepping outside with Namie. He ran ahead of her a leaped onto a bench, sliding gracefully along the wooden slats that were slick with a rain that had ended moments before.

"Namie, thank you!" he cried. "You don't know how awful it was in there!" He jumped down and walked beside her, grinning.

"Really?" she asked slyly. "It didn't seem so terrible when I got there."

The informer ducked his head slightly and scowled. "Do you want me to dock your pay, Namie?"


New Text From: Izaya Orihara

Recipient: Heiwajima Shizuo

Sent: 1:47 a.m.

Received: 1:49 a.m.

Shizu-chan... if you're still awake...

Am I delicious?

New Text From: Heiwajima Shizuo

Recipient: Orihara Izaya

Sent: 1:50 a.m.

Received: 1:51 a.m.

WTF flea? And how did you get my number?

Next Text From: Orihara Izaya

Recipient: Heiwajima Shizuo

Sent: 1:52 a.m.

Received: 1:53 a.m.

*rolls eyes* I'm an information broker, I know everybody's number! :D

WELLLL... I ask because you seemed to have an awfully good time licking the inside of my mouth earlier. I figured I must taste like something awesome in there.

New Text From: Heiwajima Shizuo

Recipient: Orihara Izaya

Sent: 1:56 a.m.

Received: 1:58 a.m.

It's creepy that you have all those cell numbers, flea. Seriously.

Mmm... yeah you tasted like tacos.

New Text From: Orihara Izaya

Recipient: Heiwajima Shizuo

Sent: 2:00 a.m.

Received: 2:00 a.m.

Yeah see I knew it'd be something spectacular like that. That's just the kind of amazingly gifted person I am.

Tacos had better be your favorite food, Shizu-chan.

New Text From: Heiwajima Shizuo

Recipient: Orihara Izaya

Sent: 2:05 a.m.

Received: 2:06 a.m.

I... think they are now.

Aww! Shizuo likes tacos :) how sweet.

Anyway, yes... idk I've been working on this on and off for the last couple of days... I liked the idea, so yes, this ficlet was born!

Yah but I srsly have so much other stuff I need to be working on, for school and Fictionpress and FF, that it's not even funny xDDD

Review? :)