Title: A Twisted Sense of Altruism
Rating: M
Pairing: Shizuo x Izaya, Izaya x Psyche
Prompt (DRRR!Kinkmeme): Abused!Roppi is found by Izaya who takes him home and cares for him. When Roppi starts meeting with Shizuo, angst, drama and fluff will follow.
Disclaimer: Don't own Durarara! or the characters ^^''

AN: Hello~ This is gonna be a long fic xD Just letting people know that I'm still setting up part of the story in my head o3o I am not a terribly fast updater, but updates will come xD Prepare for much angst, because I love angst 3 Happy ending? We will see :3 Please review~


"What are you doing?"

A snowflake melted on the tip of his nose as the brunet squatted down next to the smaller boy. The boy's body was slouched over, eyes shielded from the falling snow by dark-colored hair, matted underneath his fur-trimmed coat.

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

With no response, the brunet assumed the boy was either asleep or dead. He slowly reached his hand forward, resting it on the motionless boy's shoulder. As soon as his hand made contact, the other twitched and threw his head back, violently smacking the brunet's hand away as he pressed his back into the dirty wall behind him, eyes wide with fear.

Many people hurried by, ignoring the two seated on the cold pavement, with minds focused on their own business. It was a busy winter day; everyone had a destination… Everyone except for the boy, seated on the snowy pavement, clothes soaked through with water, and eyes numbed by the cold.

With the boy's face revealed, the man felt his eyes grow wider, mouth agape at the peculiar sight. As though he had been gazing into a mirror, everything about the boy appeared identical to him, aside from the red trim on the jacket and the fear that seeped out from the other's crimson eyes. Unsure of how to proceed, the man stood in silence until it properly registered in his mind that he was looking at someone with his exact face.

Immediately, he began digging through possible explanations for the situation. Whether or not the boy was a clone, or perhaps even a doppelganger… there was no way to tell. The other's eyes had gradually changed from fear to a more defensive look, squinting as they scrutinized the taller man.

"My name is Izaya," the man muttered. "Who are you?"

After another long silence, Izaya felt himself quickly losing interest. He was unwilling to waste his curiosity on someone who lacked the proper dignity to speak to him. Cocking his head to the side, he returned the other's icy glare. The boy was clearly younger than him by several years, but besides that, it was frightening how closely they resembled one another.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

His eyes remained glued on the man, lips tightly shut. Perhaps the boy spoke a different language, or didn't speak at all. Izaya sighed. He had probably run away from home, unless he didn't have one… There were bruises and scabs that had just begun to heal littered across his face, which was as pale as the snow that surrounded his frail body.

"Do you want to come with me?"

With an outstretched palm, Izaya watched the boy expectantly. Though, it wasn't really like him to save someone on the verge of death, he desperately wanted to know why this boy looked exactly like him, aware of the variety of annoyances he could be creating for himself by taking him home. Izaya's curiosity had always been the biggest cause for problems in his life, but in his mind, the suffering was all worth it whenever his curiosity was finally satisfied.

Still pressed against the wall, the boy hopelessly stared into eyes that shone with the same scarlet tint as his own, searching Izaya for any sign of malice. His expression showed hesitation and distrust, but with nothing else to depend on, the boy slowly reached out to take the man's cold hand.

"A good decision," Izaya smirked, pulling the boy onto his feet and catching him as he stumbled.

On the way to the hotel, the weak boy continuously tripped, walking with such clumsy movements that Izaya ended up offering his shoulder in support, annoyed at their slow pace. It was late in the afternoon, but the sky had kept the same gray color throughout the day, with falling snow constantly adding more to the thick layer already on the ground.

When he had left his room at dawn, Izaya had expected to go through a day no different from any other as the self-proclaimed greatest information broker in Japan. He had planned on attending an important meeting regarding the smuggling of a new, dangerous drug, and concluding his day with a trip to an expensive sushi restaurant, but his temptation to speak with what he thought was a boy who had run away from home caught him before dinner.

As they walked awkwardly through the busy streets, Izaya briefly considered taking the boy out to eat with him, but changed his mind when he glanced down to see an expression of fear on his dirty face. The boy was probably regretting accepting his hand, or in pain from moving around in such a sickly state…. It would have helped if he had bothered to speak to Izaya, but he appeared completely unwilling to utter even a grunt when the other asked him questions.

"Could you at least tell me your name?" Izaya pressed. When yet more silence followed, he gave up, cursing impatiently under his breath as they headed towards the gleaming lights of the hotel.