Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/10826316. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Fandom: Durarara!! Relationship: Kida_Masaomi/Orihara_Izaya Character: Kida_Masaomi, Orihara_Izaya Additional Tags: Consent_Issues, Anal_Fingering, POV_First_Person, Watersports, more_like The_Author_Has_Issues, Hand_Jobs, technically_also_SaKida_and_MiKida Stats: Published: 2017-05-05 Words: 1348 ****** y e l l o w ****** by TheTacticianMagician Summary I should've stopped any and all of this when I could. If I could. Orihara is the kind who will make you think you have a choice, that you actually have any control. (placeholder summary while this is only 1 shortfic of content) Notes this is probably not a good way to cope with anything (may get better explanation when I have more ideas. sorry ive been awful these past weeks) I should've stopped any and all of this when I could. If I could. Orihara is the kind who will make you think you have a choice, that you actually have any control. But there was nothing to keep me within the hinges - I was already skirting the law, no parents to care, my only friends were those in my gang and a girl who seemed to actually encourage anything I could do with Izaya. And the only one who could give me a down-to-earth respite was far away.   The informant had been content to work at his laptop while I sat down at the couch and looked at the grey skies, simmering in regret and self-disgust, rolling a bottle in my hand. I didn't truly struggle, not really, when he told me to take off my pants - though I'd been burning even before then.   Izaya is casual as he brings me up onto the sink, cold seeping into my legs, a reminder of what could've happened if I had any less control. He says he should have given me more water, and a part of me agrees, and I think I hate that part.   This time there was no surprises when taking just the slightest bit of lube and prodding into my back end. There had been, on the first instances he'd implied the possibility of putting anything up my ass. He was surprised a boy my age would know about these things. Well, if I wasn't in love, I wouldn't have known.   Mikado would be so disgusted if he saw me right now. My skin pricks to think of it. He'd be disappointed in how my life is in general.   "It was foolish of me to assume you were solely heterosexual. You do play the part well, Kida."   I guess I agree with that. Having his fingers in there isn't necessarily new, but this situation is. Specifically caving to this in a sickeningly casual way is. It's filthy. The intention here isn't to pleasure me, not at this point in time. Getting me fully hard would only make things more difficult. This is a sink. Things go down. It's likely to make me feel more vulnerable, to get my heart rate to skim on the edge of missing rhythm. There wouldn't be a point to this if I just felt dead. With the other hand under my shirt, Izaya can feel the beats. I suppose that is what leads him to ask, "you ready?" Any answer would be the same, I don't want to be here much longer, even knowing I don't really have anywhere to go. I shift upon the sink edge and let out a nervous breath. His fingers slide out of me and place themselves down from my stomach instead. My bladder's not even near bursting, but it's pretty full, at least full enough to have chipped my inhibitions up to this point. Full enough that the man's hand over the position makes me sweat. We both know this, that without more wait and water and preparation he'll really have to coax it out of me, but it's no different than other shows of control.   I lean against the mirror, its surface a near chill against my heated face. Izaya's fingers hurt on my abdomen, my body naturally resisting the prospect of letting go. It's a blessed-cursed pain, and his fingers shift in pressure and I utter a little gasp, a small streak of urine shooting from my dick.   "Oh," The informant comments, amused, and the shame flares up my spine at the reminder he's very much watching that. He knows that this first loosening makes it all the easier for my bladder to give in to pressure, so he fists his hand and jabs.   A shiver runs all through me as the pissing really starts, prick twitching as the gush hits the sink. Izaya can make it a stronger jet at will, depending on the pressure he applies to me, but he seems to simply enjoy watching me helplessly pee.   And I enjoy it too, gods I hate how much I enjoy it. That I'm already half hard, that I can barely think through the pleasure-shame fog in my mind. My face is up against the mirror and my eyes are shut, he can't really see my expression wholly - but it's undeniable that he can see everything else, the reflection like a front row seat to the spectacle of my dick gushing yellow into a goddamn bathroom sink.   I dare look for a bit, and I just look pathetic , and Izaya, he looks his smug-delighted look, like the one he wore when we first met but seeming a tad darker (with sick enjoyment) now.   I have not been pushed to my limit, or even too close to it, so although it's plenty of piss, it doesn't last forever. When the stream weakens, and at this point Izaya knows my body didn't even require his insistent pressure for most of the process, he relocates his hand instead, pumping it down my cock as if trying to milk me. I'd been somehow able to mostly keep my noises back during this - whatever this was - but when he does that, I squeak embarrassingly. As if I could feel any more lowered than that . He pumps out the last dribbles and drops, but doesn't stop. My teeth grit. Even when I'm empty, he keeps that up, getting me fully hard in my aroused and weakened state. It's not like this was completely out of plan. It's not like I can actually be surprised anymore. He has Saki's permission, as much as her words of "just let him take care of you" when he began groping me in full view of her could unambiguously be. There should be no way for me to be this worked up with the cool marble on my thighs and the smell of piss down the drain and this man pressing against my back, but my breath is sharp and short and my precum dribbles freely onto his fingers as if beckoned.   He'd already had his fingers up my ass, so it would be ridiculously easy for him to just belt down and slide into me while jerking me off, and I am scared at how complacent my mind is with that possibility. No , I try to internally convince myself. There's only so many pieces you can shatter into before becoming dust and whisking away with the wind. But he does place a couple fingers back in, this time not avoiding but going straight for my prostate, and I cannot bite back a strip of broken moans. My fingers curl on the mirror that's slightly fogged with my pants, I twitch in Izaya's hand with the dual pleasure, letting him drive me to the edge. I manage to keep my voice down when climax hits, a long weak sound accompanying the cum that flecks across the mirror and falls onto the sink. If my position weren't so precarious, perhaps I could've lost myself more, maybe pretended that this is not where I am. We clean up swiftly, and that feels weird for me - that he isn't asking for anything now or even making comments. I should be thankful, but it makes me uneasy instead, because I know him. "Are you going to demand anything from me?" I don't want to leave the obvious opening for him to ask something sudden of me at another point. Another day. Completely out of the blue. He's done that. "Hmm. I was dwelling on it. I realized, you've come to take my fingers so well. If you keep coming back... I could introduce you to more than that without trouble." I wish I weren't looking, to not see the knowing glint in those red eyes that has my hairs on end, as he deepens the blow with simple word choice. "I wouldn't want to do that under this sort of setup, though. Perhaps one where... I can pretend to be someone else, hmm?" I hate this. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!