A/N: Thank you Dextris and Misstress Murder so much for reviewing! :D Warning: Chapter may have potential triggers as referenced to in the summary.

Fear enveloped Izaya and left him in total disarray. Shizuo's hands had bruised his slender wrists before and now they bloomed a deep purple. Izaya did not notice, much more preoccupied with his lower half at the moment. There was no way his body could house an object of that size without due preparation and liberal amounts of lubricant. Involuntarily he kept clenching his ring muscles, yet Shizuo's cuticles would then dig into his tightening flesh and cut it each time. Another finger. Izaya could handle only the first knuckle yet Shizuo refused to withdraw, resulting in deeply felt lacerations on his inner walls. Roughly the blond drew his fingers out, now lightly sheathed in blood that would dry to brittle brown. Izaya exhaled but his relief ceased immediately when he realized that Shizuo was about to enter him. With one swift movement Shizuo plunged in, both men wincing as only the head entered successfully. Anatomically Izaya was still too petit and could not accommodate the other's cock.

"Sorry, Shizu-chan, looks like you'll still have to prepare me after all." Yet Shizuo was indifferent to these words, instead pulling himself out and reaching with his fingers once again to Izaya's battered backside. As Izaya had predicted the blood had dried quickly and now he could feel the individual ridges of Shizuo's fingers and their calluses. He jerked as they slipped further in. More blood. This time Shizuo parted the fingers. At first it was merely uncomfortable but soon Izaya was whimpering in pain. He had the sensation of actual scissors being inserted inside him and their blades sharpening, edging next to and breaking his barriers. The clarity of this pain was intolerable. His entire perineum was now damp with blood and his former erection had subsided completely.

Three fingers and then a fourth. At least he had never bought Shizuo any rings, Izaya thought indistinctly. Yet he could not smile at his own joke. Instead he forced himself to relax, bringing to his mind calming images. Ironically within these images was one of him and Shizuo at an amusement park, on a date with twin sticks of cotton candy. Dimly Izaya registered surprise and switched the image to one of his sisters. The two walking home after school, Mairu giggling and flipping her braid, Kururi's lips in a soft smile. Yet that too had to be stopped. He did not want to end up associating his sisters with this pain, unconsciously or not, once the ordeal was through.

Again these long fingers were brought out, again they entered him, now runny with fresh blood and pumping back and forth more easily. His ass would still contract at times but now it remained mostly loose. The room smelled overwhelmingly like a car parts store – musk and metal, making Izaya feel nauseous. He breathed deliberately, careful to breathe through his mouth and with his shoulders rising. When he breathed from his stomach his lower body would tighten and the pain drastically increase. The fingers seemed smoother and entered deeper now. Izaya knew, rather than felt that Shizuo had just entered his entire palm. The pain stayed steady, then Shizuo's hand probed deeper and rotated slightly, a single finger flicking upwards.

Izaya moaned in intense and sudden pleasure, bucking his hips forward to recapture the specific angle of contact. He opened his eyes to see Shizuo smirk cruelly.

"Won't happen again." He took his hand out completely and now Izaya saw that the blond's cock had stayed rigid the entire time, its head engorged and leaking liberally. Shizuo's slightly curly pubic hair shone with precum. Now Shizuo lowered himself onto Izaya, who immediately clenched his inner ring. He counted his breaths to fight against the reflex as Shizuo entered him harshly, expanding his inner walls an incredible amount in the process. Izaya broke off counting and began gasping unevenly as Shizuo filled him to the hilt. Agony overwhelmed him and he felt his knees crumple, but Shizuo held them up, then withdrew his hips to slam into Izaya's small body. The brunet's eyes dilated and he thought he screamed. Yet he could not hear anything over his throbbing temples, pulsating in time with Shizuo's rough rhythm. Blood had rushed loudly to his head to overtake the near silence in the room.

Everything hurt. It felt as though not only his ass had been speared open, but his stomach, his hips, even his bones. Shizuo pounded into him mercilessly, eyes lidded in pleasure as he did so, while Izaya found his lips forming shaky words each time.

"I…S-stop... Sh-shizuo…" He could not manage much more than that. Yet Izaya's pleas only spurred the blond on, who groaned and noticeably increased his pace. At first each thrust amplified the pain but after a long period of time a threshold was met and the pain remained constant.

"Stop…" Only now did Izaya notice how cold the floor was, cold and unyielding against his back, which was continuously being knocked onto the floor. The cold seemed to seep through his skin and numb the pain.

Gradually the nature of the act seemed to shift. His ass no longer felt torn apart, instead the sensation of being filled became neutral, and then pleasant. Shizuo's thrusts were becoming more erratic, yet now Izaya weakly bucked his pelvis forth to meet them, and reached a hand down to grip his hardening cock. Shizuo stopped him first, encircling his wrist and looking down at him with an expressionless face. Izaya returned his stare with relaxed eyes and gently attempted to maneuver his hand downwards. Shizuo twisted it sideways. Izaya stilled as he felt ligament stretch.


Shizuo thrust one more time and withdrew, semen dripping from his cock and from Izaya's ass. It took Izaya a long beat to realize that Shizuo had moved away, and another to realize that the utterance had not come from his mouth.

Kida stood at the entrance of the doorway, videocamera in hand. For once his face was serious. He walked in a few paces, scarf fluttering behind him. Izaya was frozen, hand limp by his side even as Shizuo retracted in small movements away from Izaya.

Now that Kida was closer, the fluorescent lights of the hallway no longer illuminated his silhouette. Here he looked much frailer than before, and Izaya's eyes landed on the side of his sweatshirt. Blood fanned out and spread through the cotton, sticking to his abdomen. As Kida stopped, his head jerked downward and he coughed wetly. Randomly it occurred to Izaya what a bizarre tableau this would make: a teenager ceasing the rape of a man twice his age, blood everywhere and its sharp astringent smell.

Izaya returned his attention to Shizuo, now opposite from him. His hands had curled into fists and he was staring at Kida with impatient eyes. Kida finally looked up, wiping the blood away from his mouth with his sleeve.

"Saki," he said in a scratchy voice.

Immediately Izaya's mind cleared somewhat, his disjointed thoughts organizing themselves in a coherent manner, as demanded by this urgent turn of events. It was imperative to give the impression that he knew the particulars of what exactly had happened to Kida's lover. More important was to maintain his grand scheme for Project Kasuka by dredging up enough mental strength to assess the overarching situation and how to manipulate it.

"The camera," Izaya stated. There was still the slightest tremor in his voice, and he didn't try to will it away. Both blonds had now seen him in one of the most vulnerable and powerless positions a human being could ever be in. Presently there was no use in keeping up the previous informant façade.

Kida nodded imperceptibly, then gave Shizuo a near apologetic glance. He tossed the camera over to Izaya in a single motion, Izaya lifted a hand to catch it but failed, his wrist snapping at an awkward angle. The camera dropped harmlessly on the sofa and Izaya picked it up, fingers quivering. His ass and wrist throbbed feverishly with pain. Kida had recorded his assault starting ten minutes ago. Just at the beginning.

"Ten years of jail right here," Izaya said shakily, then pushed himself to standing position. He laughed, it was slightly high-pitched. "Shizu-chan," he added as he limped towards the kitchen, returning with a soiled towel that he tossed into the trash. His wrist had been bandaged and was now resting on his shoulder along with an ice pack. The brunet carefully walked towards his desk, pushed away his swivel chair and opened up several windows on his monitor. Izaya's fingers stuttered across the keyboard and he paused to delete all that he had just typed, to begin again. Shizuo watched from his position on the floor as Izaya stared at the screen, then speed dialed someone from his cellphone.

"Mikado." He emphasized the name but did not look beyond his computer screen. Kida's gaze intensified. "How is Dollars doing? Ah, this is not the best time to ask, is it?" Izaya cradled the phone with his shoulder and moved his mouse at an increasingly quicker pace. "After all you are currently witnessing your own members' brutal treatment of the Yellow Scarves. Saki included as usual. These are some very innovative ways to use a pen, Mikado."

Pause. "Your willingness to impress Aoba impresses me." Izaya withdrew his hand from the mouse and turned around to face the window. "You can't stop it? Hahaha!" Izaya's shoulders shook with laughter then abruptly stilled. "That's a weak excuse, with Saika on your side. Try again. No, let me guess. This all ties in with Kida-kun, doesn't it?" Izaya walked around the table, deliberately catching Kida's eyes as he did so. They were narrowed in fury as anticipated. "Stop it now, Mikado. Or I will crush your little underground movement with just a word. I have the database in my hands and the contact information of half a million members. Two leaders of Dollars? They will never believe you to be the real one. And your single weapon will be gone.

So let go of Saki. Now." Izaya moved his gaze to the computer screen. "Good job, Mikado. Bye now." Izaya closed his phone and all humor died from his face.

"Please stop dripping blood all over the place, Kida, it ruins the aesthetic. Bandage yourself. And there's some liquor in the second cupboard if you need it."

Kida retreated to the kitchen just as Shizuo began to speak. "Just tell me the truth, Izaya."

His tone was weary and Izaya hesitated before looking up. Most of his ire seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a somber and mostly tired look. The blond was no longer erect. Except for minor traces of blood and ejaculate that still caked his hand and lower body, no sign at all remained of the ordeal Izaya had just undergone. No physical manifestation of the devastating pain in his body and psyche.

Suddenly Izaya was struck by a momentary sense of unreality. It seemed as though the past had been only a distant nightmare, and that the future too had vanished, closing off all escape routes from the present. Izaya could make out the blurred outline of Shizuo staring at him, and discreetly he curled his nails into his palm to ground himself. The feeling passed, leaving Izaya drained and noticeably pale.

"Alright." Izaya fixed his gaze on Shizuo. It was hard, now, to maintain a semblance of composure, but he brought his ultimate plan to the forefront of his mind and ignored the persistent pain from his backside. "Since you insist. You want to know where precious ototo is? He's with me - I'm keeping Kasuka away from the police right now."

Shizuo's knuckles grew white. "I told you to tell me the truth," he said quietly.

Izaya shook his head. This was the critical juncture of the entire lie, and he had to pull this off with the greatest nonchalance. Act sincere and somber and Shizuo would be tipped off immediately. He pulled his face into a smile, "It's true. What you saw on the news."

Shizuo snarled. "Stop fucking around! Just tell me what actually happened."

Izaya tutted, twirling his finger around. The gesture was intimate and he derived some comfort from it. "Ah, but of course the brother wishes to deny the truth! I will clarify for you then: his whereabouts are known, by at least one person: me. And as for what you have been hearing about, there is overwhelming evidence that he has murdered a young prostitute by the name of Kiki."

Shizuo lunged at Izaya and grabbed the base of his neck. But before he could do anything more, the temporarily forgotten Kida stepped in and placed a hand on Shizuo's shoulder.

Shizuo turned around in rage. "What the fuck? Kid, why are you supporting Izaya? Can't you see what a manipulative piece of bullshit he is?"

Kida's face was downturned so Izaya could not catch his expression as he said, "Sorry, but Izaya never lies. Manipulative yes, but he doesn't lie." He tightened his grasp on Shizuo's shoulder. "And - and I owe him now."

Shizuo growled and with visible restraint removed his hand. He directed his next words to Izaya. "I don't believe that. Kasuka wouldn't harm a flea. He's never gotten angry before. And I can't imagine that that would somehow change."

Izaya lightly rubbed his neck as he spoke, bending over to pick up the fallen ice pack. "Ah, I knew you would say that. But I have proof."

Shizuo shook his head. "I can't trust that you didn't make it up."

Izaya took his hand off and took a step closer to Shizuo. "Care to elaborate?"

Shizuo snorted. "You probably tampered with his old movies, fiddling around with his lines and whatnot to make it sound like he said something when he meant something else."

"What if I gave you the chance to talk to Kasuka? The real thing?"

Shizuo stared. "What?"

"You heard me right," Izaya said lightheartedly. He walked towards the window, maneuvering about a puddle of Kida's blood as he did so.

Let Shizuo stew in silence now. The smile had dropped from Izaya's face and he took a few invisible breaths. He stepped closer to the window so that his reflection would not be too visible to Shizuo. He needed a break from his blithe demeanor. Quietly he looked out over the cityscape beyond.

Sun was setting, the sky blazing red and refracting upon the surfaces of buildings, cars, and lampposts. A few trees were visible, scattered green dots between an otherwise glittering city. Today Izaya could not feel his love for humanity as he gazed lower, on the many pedestrians underneath. Something crucial had shifted within him and he felt none of his usual curiosity to investigate further. He thought he already knew the source behind his changed attitude towards humans, and the cause was something he wished to push far away from his mind. He heard a door shut, Kida had left.

"Izaya – " the tone was edgy.

Izaya spun around. All traces of mirth were gone. "I will reiterate this one more time and make it painfully clear. Kasuka killed Kiki and currently he is being protected by me, from the police, who will surely shackle him at sight. There are tens of millions of devoted fans who are storming about worldwide, trying to stop this, but they're not going to get anywhere. Why? Because he is a murderer. And I have seen undeniable proof." Laughter genuinely bubbled up as he took in Shizuo's shocked expression. He stepped closer and removed the ice pack to the table, to clasp his still trembling hands together behind his back.

"Thought I was lying? Didn't you notice? Considering Kasuka's extreme celebrity status, wouldn't the police draw some of his sentence away? No. Even his publicist is silent. He's a wanted criminal. Our national site even lists a 5 million yen reward for him. Granted, they're not putting that on any top news sites, that would be too controversial."

Shizuo fell silent. He sat down on the couch and took out a cigarette, but did not light it. Izaya noticed that his fingers, too, wobbled lightly.

"I still think this is all some fucked up prank." Yet his shaky tone belied his words.

The room was illuminated in scarlet light. Every few minutes the light would disappear and Shizuo's face would darken even more. Finally Shizuo's lips opened and Izaya knew exactly what they were about to say.

"Then I want to talk with him."

Izaya swallowed down a bitter laugh. Everything had gone the way he had scripted it out in his head. Except now he felt none of the expected victory as he heard these words. The shock of how Shizuo had turned the tables on him had now dissipated, leaving in its wake an unfamiliar emotion which he had thought was for mere mortals. Sorrow. Abruptly he walked to the kitchen and placed his elbows on the counter, taking in a deep shuddering breath.

"Shizuo? Get out."