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Izaya grimaced out at the oppressive blackness that filled his vision, unable to stand or even move against the tight confines he found himself in. Heavily fragrant leather was pressed against his nose, silk-lined in places, metal hinges digging into his lower spine. How exactly he’d let himself get shut in a suitcase was beyond him, especially considering the nauseating irony that it was Shizuo Heiwajima standing over his trapped form. He just remembered waking up like this, a recreation of a silly prank he’d once pulled on a girl he was making deals with. Being on the other end of it was not as funny.
“Look at you, rat,” Shizuo snarled, his voice partly muffled from the other side of the suitcase. “Do you like being shut up in a box like that?”
“It could be comfier,” Izaya sneered, shifting a bit in the claustrophobic space. “You couldn’t have even washed this thing first?”
A sharp kick was dealt to the side of the container, and Izaya grunted as he hit the ground.
“Y’know, chasing you has it’s perks, but I’m sure getting a lot out of you not going anywhere,” Shizuo chuckled, his polished shoes clicking across the tile as he walked to the other side of the fallen case.
Izaya smirked to himself. “Aww, Shizu-chan, are you getting bored of playing with me? Got tired of losing every game we start?”
He could hear Shizuo’s lip curling. “Cutting your losses isn’t losing.”
“It is when the police are after you,” Izaya teased.
Another kick, less impactful this time. Izaya felt a tugging toward the top of the case, and was surprised to feel Shizuo flipping him around, turning the bag so that Izaya’s nose was pressed to the ground, his back arched above him and his knees pulled to his chest. He let out an irritated, restrained sigh, his lips pulled in a frustrated grin.
“What exactly do you want then? A truce?” Izaya asked, one hand pressed to the side of the case. “Were you planning to deliver me to the police station? Or maybe you were hoping to ask me for a favor?”
“None of that,” Shizuo replied.
Izaya chuckled, the footsteps beside him fading slightly. “This is a cute little power play, but I’m going to get out of here. It won’t be hard.”
Shizuo’s voice was smug as he approached again. “Yeah, probably. Doesn’t mean I can’t mess with you first.”
In a mock indignant tone, Izaya scolded him. “Going to have your way with me? Oh Shizu-chan, so obscene! Had I known your intentions, I would have brought wine.”
There was a metal shuttering noise, like someone unsheathing a boxcutter. What?
“Good guess.”
What?
Grinding met his ears as the point of a blade started sawing into the back of the suitcase. It struggled against the tough leather, though it managed to tear slowly into the material. A small bit of light was leaking in from the hole, completely behind Izaya. It didn’t help him to see much. Shizuo’s fingers dug into the suitcase, brushing against Izaya’s jeans as he pulled free the section of the bag he’d cut out.
“What are you doing?” Izaya demanded.
Shizuo grinned. “Thought I’d give you a taste of your own medicine. The taunting is one thing, but the flirting is really getting on my nerves.”
“Oh c’mon, I never assaulted you or anything,” Izaya protested.
“I can’t count the number of times you’ve slid your hand down my chest or between my legs. I am not letting you get off scott free,” Shizuo growled, a hint of embarrassment in his tone.
At this, Izaya snickered, seeing a possible foothold. “Does it make your heart flutter, Shizu-chan? When I purr sweet nothings in your ear? You know I’ve dreamed of something like this, where you finally realize what kind of effect I have on that beastly brain of yours.”
“Shut up!” Shizuo roared, slapping the container over.
Izaya winced at the impact, his head aching as the suitcase was turned back to how it had been standing before. The point of the boxcutter dipped into the hole, none too carefully, and began ripping at the seam on Izaya’s jeans. His eyes widened.
“Watch it!” he snapped, holding himself still. “What are you planning to do, gut me?”
Shizuo twisted the blade, managing to tear a messy split in Izaya’s pants. “Maybe if you annoy me enough. Right now I’m just trying to make an opening.”
Izaya’s stomach dropped as he felt air on his skin. Was he serious?
“Devolving to this, Shizuo. How shameful. What would your brother think?” he drawled.
Shizuo snorted. “If you tell my brother, I’m not letting you leave out the detail that you had a raging erection during the whole exchange.”
What was he…? Oh. Hmm.
Oops.
Izaya squirmed, the tightness in his pants becoming apparent as yes, he was getting quite hard. He hadn’t really assumed Shizuo could see his groin through that small hole, but it seemed there was enough space for him to catch sight of it. He was not about to let his composure falter, even like this, even as he felt a finger tracing the hole cut in the suitcase, chillingly close to his skin.
“What can I say? I like danger,” he purred.
Shizuo reached in and tore his jeans further, ripping his underwear. “You think you’re a good liar, huh?”
“I’ve been told that, yes.”
Rough fingertips pressed against Izaya’s exposed opening, prompting a small gasp. One benefit to being trapped in here was that while Shizuo could see some of his more sensitive areas, he couldn’t see his face, including the way Izaya was anxiously, heatedly biting his lip.
“So what’ll it be, rat?” Shizuo inquired, prodding him. “Should I prep you first? That might be the merciful thing to do.”
Shivers were wracking Izaya’s spine as Shizuo lightly teased him, threatening to push inside. What should he say? Would messing with him only make him angrier? Was Izaya willing to risk the resulting bodily injury if it was really, really hot?
“A gentleman would use lube,” he hissed.
“Yeah, that might feel better,” Shizuo agreed.
His hand withdrew, and Izaya heard a plastic bottle open. When Shizuo reached back into the case, his fingers were slick, and he didn’t give Izaya the chance to retort as he pushed one into his heat. Izaya yelped, tensing, his face hot as he felt Shizuo ruthlessly pressing inside.
“Slow, you cretin,” he spat.
Shizuo snorted. “You’re in no position to make demands.”
He crudely prodded and stirred, easing in and out of Izaya’s opening, adding a second finger when he was fairly confident it’d slide in. Panting, Izaya pressed his cheek against the silk lining of the case. There was a muffle between them, so hopefully Shizuo couldn’t make out the needy whimper he made as he felt those inconsiderate fingers twisting against his walls. He’d never admit it when he truly lost, but it was hard to think that he was doing anything except fully submitting, his body opening easily as Shizuo slowly stretched him. His legs were shaking, his breath leaving streaks of dampness along his cheek in the tight space. In a way, Shizuo was showing him mercy by hiding his face. Izaya would never live down how unbelievably arousing this situation was if Shizuo knew how much he was enjoying it. It was lucky he couldn’t move much, or he might have started reflexively pushing back into Shizuo’s strong hand.
“You’re loosening up fast, slut,” Shizuo jeered, stirring deep into Izaya’s heat.
It was taking so much not to moan. Izaya wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “I don’t have much of a choice. It’s a self-defense mechanism.”
He choked back a desperate noise as Shizuo pushed against his prostate, horribly aware of where to touch inside him to make him melt. Denim gripped his erection, fluid dampening his underwear, the only saving grace that the seams along the back of his jeans were torn enough that shifting could create some relief. His eyes were closed, drool starting to trail from the corner of his mouth as he was decadently stretched, Shizuo surprisingly skilled. He must have been exercising a lot of restraint not to split Izaya in half just with one hand.
All at once, Shizuo pulled his hand away, and Izaya let out a shaky breath as he tried to steady himself. His reprieve was short-lived, as the sound of a belt buckle met his ears. Despite the weakness in his limbs, he tensed again immediately, anticipation making cold sweat break out on his neck and forehead. It was already so warm in this stupid box; the jumping in his pulse was not helping. He tried to slow his breathing, tried not to seem too eager for Shizuo to approach again. A weight was felt atop the case, Shizuo positioning himself so his groin was poised just behind Izaya’s rear. He exhaled audibly as he eased his now-exposed erection into the hole, Izaya flinching as the tip pressed against his slick opening.
“Warm in there,” Shizuo murmured, his voice husky and menacing.
Izaya’s jeans felt unbearably tight. “Disgustingly so.”
Chuckling, Shizuo gripped the sides of the case, and began to slowly urge his hips forward. Izaya’s breath was hitching, his face sticky as he clenched his fists, the buildup killing him. Unable to fight the urge, he moved back the barely an inch he was able, forcing the tip of Shizuo’s erection into his heat, gasping sharply. The hungry growl Shizuo made over him was enough to slacken his entire body.
“That’s how you want it, huh?” he huffed.
Izaya couldn’t take it anymore. He struggled to slide a hand between his legs, fumbling with the clasp of his jeans, moaning openly as he managed to pull back the denim enough to slide his erection free. “Shut your mouth, you mongrel. Just get on with it.”
Shizuo eagerly obliged. He clung to the case, rolling his hips into the side of it, shoving deep into Izaya’s quivering body. Beneath him, Izaya moaned helplessly, arching his back. He bit into his index knuckle, feeling Shizuo start a merciless pace of pounding into him, clearly holding back but still with enough force to leave Izaya a whimpering mess. He struggled to adjust, Shizuo’s greedy assault only turning him on more. Being handled so roughly, used like an object, especially by Shizuo of all people...Izaya palmed over his flushed erection, trying to reach it in the claustrophobic space. He had to hold out, he couldn’t be the first to release, not this soon. Not already. Not when feeling Shizuo’s cock pounding into him was so good it was making him rethink the entire dynamic of their relationship.
“God, you’re so tight,” Shizuo panted, grinding into him. “Hot inside too. Fuck, fuck, that feels amazing.”
He knew what Shizuo was trying to do. He wasn’t going to be tricked into admitting how arousing this was, how dizzying this pleasure felt twisting through his guts. Groaning into his clenched hand, he fumbled with his erection, squeezing what of it he could reach, fluid already dripping onto his fingers. He desperately tried not to listen to Shizuo purr against the leather, muffled by the case, seeming to ghost over his ear.
“Come for me,” Shizuo growled. “I want to feel you squeeze me. I want to fill you up like the filthy little plaything you are.”
Fuck. Fuck.
“Shut up,” Izaya groaned, but his voice cracked as he tried to protest.
Shizuo caught his tone, chuckling darkly.
“I bet you love this,” he drawled. “I bet you’re losing your mind in there, trapped like vermin, held and fucked senseless. This is what you wanted, huh? Were you always hoping I’d catch you and vent my frustrations on you? You’re lucky it feels so good being buried in your tight little ass. Maybe I’ll make a habit of this.”
Izaya let out a choked cry, feeling his muscles clenching. Shizuo didn’t slow down, continuing to pound into him, and he came hard into his hand. Gasping, he tensed against the inside of the case, squeezing Shizuo’s length. Despite his bravado, Shizuo was weakening, and Izaya could feel him starting to lose composure. He groaned loudly, nails digging into the outside of the suitcase, his stomach clenching as he spilled into Izaya’s heat. In his position, Izaya could feel hot fluid dribbling deep inside, and he shuddered. His eyes were closed against the silk lining, slumping as Shizuo caught his breath, still buried in him, taking a moment to ride out the waves of his orgasm. Shaking, Shizuo pulled back slowly, holding his softening length in his hand and withdrawing it from Izaya’s spent body. Izaya barely flinched, still weak from his release.
“Fuck,” Shizuo exhaled.
He shakily got to his feet, and Izaya heard him walk to another part of the room. Izaya struggled to wipe his mouth, the firm exterior of the case the only thing holding him up. There was the sound of running water, and a tap being turned off. Shizuo’s dress shoes clacked against the floor as he shuffled back over, seemingly off-balance.
Izaya slowly took in a breath. “Are you gonna let me out?”
“Not yet,” Shizuo replied, sounding a little dazed. “Got some errands to run first. You just stay put.”
Annoyed, Izaya grit his teeth. “I want to get cleaned up.”
Shizuo sounded amused. “Nah, you’ll be fine. Not like those pants can get any more ruined.”
“You’d better replace these,” Izaya hissed
“Yeah right,” Shizuo scoffed. Izaya heard him start to walk away before calling back, “That felt good. I’ll remember this the next time I’m trying to break your neck.”
Izaya would have been charmed if he wasn’t so irritated. “I’ll be sure the opportunity presents itself soon.”
“Don’t get cocky. I’ve got more suitcases lying around.”