"--and don't start any fights, okay? You're not a kid anymore, colleges take that sort of thing /seriously."
Chuuya winces, wishing his father wasn't so /loud./ He really didn't want to be known as the 'kid who started fights', especially when he didn't know anyone at Keio +
Chuuya winces, wishing his father wasn't so /loud./ He really didn't want to be known as the 'kid who started fights', especially when he didn't know anyone at Keio +
University yet. He didn't want to /start/ with a bad reputation.
But, given that his father is on speaker phone (because Chuuya only has two hands, and they're currently very busy holding one of his moving boxes), and there's two other people in the hallway, now staring at him+
But, given that his father is on speaker phone (because Chuuya only has two hands, and they're currently very busy holding one of his moving boxes), and there's two other people in the hallway, now staring at him+
oddly -- it might be too little too late.
Chuuya pushes the stairwell door open with his hip, rolling his eyes. "I won't, Dad."
For the record -- Chuuya didn't start fights. He /finished/ them. Everyone who ever got in a fight with him deserved it in some way.
His footsteps+
Chuuya pushes the stairwell door open with his hip, rolling his eyes. "I won't, Dad."
For the record -- Chuuya didn't start fights. He /finished/ them. Everyone who ever got in a fight with him deserved it in some way.
His footsteps+
echo loudly in the stairwell, partially drowning out his father's voice as he continues, "Make sure to study hard and often! Cramming never works, you know. And do your assignments as soon as you get them, because it always seems like you have all this /time/ but before you know+
it, you've missed a few assignments and now they're piling up--."
Sensing that Rimbaud is working himself into a tirade, Chuuya cuts in. "I /will/, Dad, I know how to manage my time."
There's a /long/ silence that says exactly what Rimbaud thinks of /that/ statement, but +
Sensing that Rimbaud is working himself into a tirade, Chuuya cuts in. "I /will/, Dad, I know how to manage my time."
There's a /long/ silence that says exactly what Rimbaud thinks of /that/ statement, but +
thankfully he lets it go.
Well, lets it go in favor of a /different/ lecture, at least, and Chuuya is grateful that Rimbaud had important meetings at work that he couldn't miss, and couldn't come with Chuuya on move-in day. If he /had/, he'd probably be making a giant fuss and+
Well, lets it go in favor of a /different/ lecture, at least, and Chuuya is grateful that Rimbaud had important meetings at work that he couldn't miss, and couldn't come with Chuuya on move-in day. If he /had/, he'd probably be making a giant fuss and+
embarrassing him in front of /everyone/. He'd forever be known as the guy who's dad had a tearful emotional breakdown in front of the school, and Chuuya does /not/ want that.
Not that he doesn't... appreciate how much his Dad loves him and shows him every day. It's just... +
Not that he doesn't... appreciate how much his Dad loves him and shows him every day. It's just... +
/overbearing/.
Mostly because he doesn't treat his older sisters with the same amount of hovering protectiveness. Chuuya gets it -- he's the /baby/, the only boy, and his childhood wasn't easy -- but it's still a bit annoying, and a little unfair.
"When you get to your dorm, +
Mostly because he doesn't treat his older sisters with the same amount of hovering protectiveness. Chuuya gets it -- he's the /baby/, the only boy, and his childhood wasn't easy -- but it's still a bit annoying, and a little unfair.
"When you get to your dorm, +
make sure you unpack before your first day! And make friends with your roommate, otherwise the year is going to suck--."
Chuuya interrupts him again, managing to open the door to his floor with both of his hands occupied. His train had been delayed, so it's later in the +
Chuuya interrupts him again, managing to open the door to his floor with both of his hands occupied. His train had been delayed, so it's later in the +
afternoon than most of the other students arrived. The stairwell is empty other than him. "I /know/ Dad. I can take care of myself, you know?"
There's a muffled sound over the phone, and then his dad says in a very small, very thick voice, "I know, Chuuya."
Damn, now he feels+
There's a muffled sound over the phone, and then his dad says in a very small, very thick voice, "I know, Chuuya."
Damn, now he feels+
bad.
He sighs, checking the room numbers as he goes. He's in room A5158 this year, and he's been lucky enough that his scholarship was enough to pay for a two-person dorm. "Stop worrying so much. I'll be fine, I promise. Kouyou and Kyouka are fine, and you weren't so +
He sighs, checking the room numbers as he goes. He's in room A5158 this year, and he's been lucky enough that his scholarship was enough to pay for a two-person dorm. "Stop worrying so much. I'll be fine, I promise. Kouyou and Kyouka are fine, and you weren't so +
fussy with /them/."
Rimbaud huffs. "Kyouka went to /Tsubaka/ so she's still home for the weekend, and Kouyou doesn't /let/ me hover."
That's true. Kouyou is a force of nature all her own, and when she thinks for a /second/ that Dad is trying to boss her around or make her +
Rimbaud huffs. "Kyouka went to /Tsubaka/ so she's still home for the weekend, and Kouyou doesn't /let/ me hover."
That's true. Kouyou is a force of nature all her own, and when she thinks for a /second/ that Dad is trying to boss her around or make her +
do something that she didn't /want/ to, then she will deliberately go out of her way to do whatever the /hell/ she wanted.
It's caused /quite a few/ issues growing up. She's settled down now, now that she has a career, but there's /quite/ a few stories in their hometown that +
It's caused /quite a few/ issues growing up. She's settled down now, now that she has a career, but there's /quite/ a few stories in their hometown that +
started with "that redheaded girl--".
Which made it /really/ awkward for Chuuya growing up, to be associated with /those/ kind of stories. (Not that he proved them wrong with his own behavior, but semantics.)
Besides, Chuuya /is/ the last child to leave the nest, so it's +
Which made it /really/ awkward for Chuuya growing up, to be associated with /those/ kind of stories. (Not that he proved them wrong with his own behavior, but semantics.)
Besides, Chuuya /is/ the last child to leave the nest, so it's +
understandable that his dad is experiencing some parental mourning.
It's just a little /annoying/.
He sighs, finally finding his assigned dorm. It's in the middle of the hall, and based on the light streaming from underneath the door, someone is already home.
"I have to go+
It's just a little /annoying/.
He sighs, finally finding his assigned dorm. It's in the middle of the hall, and based on the light streaming from underneath the door, someone is already home.
"I have to go+
now, Dad. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"...Okay. Be good and promise you'll call if you need to? Whenever you need to. Even if you just miss me."
He stifles another sigh. Even if he's not a kid anymore, this /is/ the first time he'll be away from his family for any length of+
"...Okay. Be good and promise you'll call if you need to? Whenever you need to. Even if you just miss me."
He stifles another sigh. Even if he's not a kid anymore, this /is/ the first time he'll be away from his family for any length of+
time, so he appreciates the reassurance, a /little/. "I will, Dad, promise. Bye, love you."
Then he pins the box between him and the wall, freeing up a hand so he can end the call before his dad can find anything /else/ to prolong the conversation with. That man can /talk/. +
Then he pins the box between him and the wall, freeing up a hand so he can end the call before his dad can find anything /else/ to prolong the conversation with. That man can /talk/. +
He takes a deep breath, preparing himself to meet his new dormmate. He's never been shy or anxious, but there's quite a few people that don't like his loud, boisterous nature, and he doesn't want to sour his relationship with his roommate /already/. Besides, he doesn't know +
what kind of person he'll be meeting, so it's better to be prepared for /anything/.
He opens the door--
And promptly realizes that his 'loud, boisterous' nature is /not/ going to be a problem, because half of the dorm room looks like a damn /clown/ threw up all over it.+
He opens the door--
And promptly realizes that his 'loud, boisterous' nature is /not/ going to be a problem, because half of the dorm room looks like a damn /clown/ threw up all over it.+
Literally. Red, blues, greens, all colors of the rainbow smashed together on bedsheets, book bags, knick-knacks, literally /everything/ his dorm mate owns is brightly colored. There's no sense of rhyme or reason, only an /abundance/ of color, like Chuuya is moving in with the +
circus. To his horror, there's even the faint sound of what might be /circus music/, playing tinnily from his roommates phone.
Just /who/ is he going to be living with??
Said roommate is standing near the window on his tiptoes, pinning what looks to be a music poster of some+
Just /who/ is he going to be living with??
Said roommate is standing near the window on his tiptoes, pinning what looks to be a music poster of some+
russian band. His braid, long and white, sways behind him as he moves, muttering to himself.
Chuuya clears his throat, shifting awkwardly in the doorway. "Uh, hi? I think I'm your dorm mate."
The guy yelps, sounding a bit too surprised than Chuuya thinks is necessary for his +
Chuuya clears his throat, shifting awkwardly in the doorway. "Uh, hi? I think I'm your dorm mate."
The guy yelps, sounding a bit too surprised than Chuuya thinks is necessary for his +
quiet greeting. He whips around, blue-grey eyes wide with shock. There's a vertical scar over his left one, still noticeable even though it's faded enough to be an old injury.
There's a tense moment as they size each other up, both of them unsure and shocked to see the other. +
There's a tense moment as they size each other up, both of them unsure and shocked to see the other. +
Wary, almost.
Then the guy's face melts into a slightly-manic grin as he bounces up on his toes, like an excited child. "Hi! I'm Nikolai Gogol!"
Chuuya lets out a breath, unaware that'd he'd been holding it. He moves further into the room, heading for the unoccupied bed. A few+
Then the guy's face melts into a slightly-manic grin as he bounces up on his toes, like an excited child. "Hi! I'm Nikolai Gogol!"
Chuuya lets out a breath, unaware that'd he'd been holding it. He moves further into the room, heading for the unoccupied bed. A few+
things have crossed the line into 'his' side of the room, but he's not that worried about it for now. He's left a lot of his stuff at home, anyways. "Hey, I'm Nakahara Chuuya. Just call me Chuuya."
"Okay! Did you need any help moving your stuff in? Do you have more boxes?" +
"Okay! Did you need any help moving your stuff in? Do you have more boxes?" +
/That/ makes Chuuya feel a bit insecure, like he's some /freak/ that doesn't own anything, but he manages to shrug it off. "Nope, this is it."
One medium sized box,and a big backpack stuffed with most of his clothes. That's all he brought with him, to live hours away from home.+
One medium sized box,and a big backpack stuffed with most of his clothes. That's all he brought with him, to live hours away from home.+
Chuuya has never been /quiet/, but Nikolai seems to take on most of the conversation by himself anyways, chattering loudly as Chuuya unpacks most of his stuff.
He plugs in his laptop, letting it charge so he can finish registering for his classes later this afternoon.
"So, are+
He plugs in his laptop, letting it charge so he can finish registering for his classes later this afternoon.
"So, are+
you from here, or are you new to Yokohama?"
Chuuya shoves his clothes into the dresser on his side of the dorm, promising himself to hang them up in the tiny closet later. "My parents live in Tsubaka. It's my first time in Yokohama."
Well, that's not specifically true, but+
Chuuya shoves his clothes into the dresser on his side of the dorm, promising himself to hang them up in the tiny closet later. "My parents live in Tsubaka. It's my first time in Yokohama."
Well, that's not specifically true, but+
he's only been here before with his father on business trips or sightseeing,which doesn't come with knowledge that living here would bring. In a very real sense, he knows almost nothing about Yokohama, besides the stories he's been told.
"Oh! I've been here for a few weeks now.+
"Oh! I've been here for a few weeks now.+
I got to move in early, since I came from Russia. I could show you around, if you'd like!"
A foreign international student offering to show /him/ around the city. It feels a /little/ demeaning, and part of Chuuya's pride wants to say /no/, he'll figure it out--
But then he +
A foreign international student offering to show /him/ around the city. It feels a /little/ demeaning, and part of Chuuya's pride wants to say /no/, he'll figure it out--
But then he +
remembers that he's almost a foreign student himself, right now, and while his eccentric roommate probably wouldn't have been his /first/ choice in friends--
It probably wouldn't be a good idea to alienate him either and well--
Chuuya /does/ need friends, because he doesn't+
It probably wouldn't be a good idea to alienate him either and well--
Chuuya /does/ need friends, because he doesn't+
have any here in Yokohoma. All his friends from high school either went to Tsubaka University, because it was closer, or they went to Tokyo. Some went to international colleges.
He was the only one to choose Keio, and since his dad is so /overprotective/--
He doesn't /know/ +
He was the only one to choose Keio, and since his dad is so /overprotective/--
He doesn't /know/ +
anyone in Yokohama. He's starting off a /big/ piece of his life, something his future will build off of and that he's been looking forward to for /years/, and he's all alone.
It's exciting... and scary. Even Chuuya, who prides himself on being brave to the point of +
It's exciting... and scary. Even Chuuya, who prides himself on being brave to the point of +
recklessness, is having a /bit/ of anxiety.
Only a little bit though.
He nods, taking out a picture frame and placing it on his new dresser. He doesn't look at it for too long, because it makes him /depressed/ but...
He likes seeing his mother, sometimes, as a reminder. +
Only a little bit though.
He nods, taking out a picture frame and placing it on his new dresser. He doesn't look at it for too long, because it makes him /depressed/ but...
He likes seeing his mother, sometimes, as a reminder. +
"Yeah, that would be cool, actually. I can read train maps, but it'd be easier if i knew where I was going." Not that Chuuya really /needs/ to go many places other than campus, but it'd be nice.
Nikolai finally gets his poster tacked up with a triumphant noise. "Yeah! I'm +
Nikolai finally gets his poster tacked up with a triumphant noise. "Yeah! I'm +
actually going to meet up with some friends for dinner. You can come with."
What, now? After a long day of saying goodbye to his father, being on a cramped train and lugging his bags all the way to campus? He's tired, /dirty/--
His stomach growls loudly at that exact moment, +
What, now? After a long day of saying goodbye to his father, being on a cramped train and lugging his bags all the way to campus? He's tired, /dirty/--
His stomach growls loudly at that exact moment, +
making Nikolai's lips twitch.
-- and /hungry/. He hasn't eaten since breakfast this morning, and even that was a rushed affair.
Registration for classes can wait. He'll just finish that up once he gets back, and maybe get a headstart on his reading for class. For now, dinner +
-- and /hungry/. He hasn't eaten since breakfast this morning, and even that was a rushed affair.
Registration for classes can wait. He'll just finish that up once he gets back, and maybe get a headstart on his reading for class. For now, dinner +
sounds perfect. "Great. Do I have time to wash up first?"
Because he does feel dirty from the train, and if he's going to meet new people, he wants to change into something better than a loose pair of jeans and his rattiest sneakers. First impressions /matter/.
Nikolai nods.+
Because he does feel dirty from the train, and if he's going to meet new people, he wants to change into something better than a loose pair of jeans and his rattiest sneakers. First impressions /matter/.
Nikolai nods.+
He doesn't even look at his watch or phone though, so either he's /really/ confident or he's not worried about showing up late.
Either way, Chuuya cleans up as quickly as he can. Luckily, there's signs which lead to the showers shared by the entire floor. Gross, and he already+
Either way, Chuuya cleans up as quickly as he can. Luckily, there's signs which lead to the showers shared by the entire floor. Gross, and he already+
misses the shower at home, but it's better than some of the /other/ dorms, which apparently share a shower among the /whole/ building.
He does make a note to purchase some shower shoes, though. You never know what kind of nasty people he'll be sharing a shower with. +
He does make a note to purchase some shower shoes, though. You never know what kind of nasty people he'll be sharing a shower with. +
Leaving his hair to dry wild and curly, he pulls on dark jeans and a grey t-shirt. It's a little plainer than he'd normally choose, but his father convinced him to leave most of his "eccentric" clothes at home, because 'he wants to make a good impression, right?'.
The red +
The red +
jacket, though, is /exactly/ on brand for him, bomber style with more than a few unnecessary zippers and dangling chains. Subtle enough to look over, if you weren't looking closely.
By the time he arrives back at his room, Nikolai has changed into something /brighter/, his +
By the time he arrives back at his room, Nikolai has changed into something /brighter/, his +
shirt a rainbow splash of colors. Now, Chuuya might otherwise take this as a /hint/ or some other form of gay-communication, but combined with the /balloon/ pants, one side striped and the other side a blank white--
He's pretty sure Nikolai is just channeling "russian clown" +
He's pretty sure Nikolai is just channeling "russian clown" +
energy.
"Ready?" Nikolai bounces up when he sees him, an excited grin on his face.
Chuuya blinks in surprise, because he honestly wasn't expecting such enthusiasm, especially from someone he /just/ met. Usually /he's/ the one with 'too much energy', so it's strange to be +
"Ready?" Nikolai bounces up when he sees him, an excited grin on his face.
Chuuya blinks in surprise, because he honestly wasn't expecting such enthusiasm, especially from someone he /just/ met. Usually /he's/ the one with 'too much energy', so it's strange to be +
on the receiving end of that, for once.
It’s nice, though, to be so immediately welcomed. It soothes some part of him that he didn’t even realize was worried. “Yeah, I’m ready. Where are we going?”
Nikolai leads the way out of the door, barely giving Chuuya enough time to +
It’s nice, though, to be so immediately welcomed. It soothes some part of him that he didn’t even realize was worried. “Yeah, I’m ready. Where are we going?”
Nikolai leads the way out of the door, barely giving Chuuya enough time to +
shove his wallet into his pockets.
Nikolai locks the door behind them, making a noise as he does. “Oh, here’s your key.”
Chuuya takes the offered key from his fingertips, frowning. “I thought I had to see the office to get my copy?”
Nikolai grins at him, proud. “Usually, +
Nikolai locks the door behind them, making a noise as he does. “Oh, here’s your key.”
Chuuya takes the offered key from his fingertips, frowning. “I thought I had to see the office to get my copy?”
Nikolai grins at him, proud. “Usually, +
yes, but I knew him so he let me take the extra, as long as I promised to give it to you later.”
Chuuya has /no/ idea why he’d do that, but sure. At least he doesn’t have to make another trip to the office, then.
He pockets the key, following a step behind Nikolai as he +
Chuuya has /no/ idea why he’d do that, but sure. At least he doesn’t have to make another trip to the office, then.
He pockets the key, following a step behind Nikolai as he +
charges down the stairwell, completely skipping over the elevator.
They pass a pair of students on their way up, who Nikolai waves to enthusiastically, calling out a greeting.
Chuuya isn't shy or easily intimidated by any means, but he's starting to think his dorm mate knows+
They pass a pair of students on their way up, who Nikolai waves to enthusiastically, calling out a greeting.
Chuuya isn't shy or easily intimidated by any means, but he's starting to think his dorm mate knows+
/everyone/. He was semi-popular in high school himself, but not on /this/ level.
Outside, the campus is rather empty, with only a handful of students making their way around the grounds. Most of them are carrying books or heavy-looking backpacks, clearly ready for classes to +
Outside, the campus is rather empty, with only a handful of students making their way around the grounds. Most of them are carrying books or heavy-looking backpacks, clearly ready for classes to +
start.
He makes a mental note purchase his books later.
Nikolai leads him to Tamachi station, chattering the whole time. He barely lets Chuuya get a word in, which is fine because he's a bit busy memorizing the path to the train station.
"I hope you like seafood, because +
He makes a mental note purchase his books later.
Nikolai leads him to Tamachi station, chattering the whole time. He barely lets Chuuya get a word in, which is fine because he's a bit busy memorizing the path to the train station.
"I hope you like seafood, because +
that's what we'll be eating. I'd say we could change if you didn't like it, but Shuuji and Yuan have wanted seafood for /ages/ and if they don't get it today, they'll be grumpy."
"No worries, I love seafood."
Nikolai beams, swiping his train card in the terminal. "Great! I +
"No worries, I love seafood."
Nikolai beams, swiping his train card in the terminal. "Great! I +
already told them you were coming, so they'll be expecting us. They said they'll get us a table."
Just how many people will he be meeting today?
The train is surprisingly crowded for this time of day, squishing them together near one of the days. Chuuya wedges himself near +
Just how many people will he be meeting today?
The train is surprisingly crowded for this time of day, squishing them together near one of the days. Chuuya wedges himself near +
the wall, finding himself a space away from the crowd. Nikolai, sticking out like a sore thumb at over 180cm, looks mildly uncomfortable from his spot in the crowd. There's a much shorter girl hanging onto his elbow instead of the too-tall handles above.
Chuuya gives a huffed +
Chuuya gives a huffed +
breath, trying not to snicker. The benefits of being small were not many, but /sometimes/, not that Chuuya would ever admit it out loud, it worked out in his favor.
Nikolai motions for him to get off at the second stop, mouthing something that is too low for Chuuya to hear past+
Nikolai motions for him to get off at the second stop, mouthing something that is too low for Chuuya to hear past+
the bustle and roar of the train station.
The restaurant they're going to is only a few blocks away, and Chuuya spends that time growing increasingly nervous.
Most of the people he's met so far in life have had /something/ in common with him. Schooling, through his Dad's
The restaurant they're going to is only a few blocks away, and Chuuya spends that time growing increasingly nervous.
Most of the people he's met so far in life have had /something/ in common with him. Schooling, through his Dad's
friends, neighbors. There was always a common thread, something to relate to.
But the only thing he has in common with the people he’s about to meet, is /Nikolai/, who he met a grand total of an hour ago. That he knows of, at least.
What if they /don’t/ have anything in +
But the only thing he has in common with the people he’s about to meet, is /Nikolai/, who he met a grand total of an hour ago. That he knows of, at least.
What if they /don’t/ have anything in +
common? What if it’s /awkward/ and he’s just the weird third-wheel that Nikolai dragged along with him?
What if it’s /weird/?
“There it is!” Nikolai says excitedly, pointing to a medium-sized building with a neon sign handing over declaring it as ‘HARU’s SEAFOOD AND SUSHI’. +
What if it’s /weird/?
“There it is!” Nikolai says excitedly, pointing to a medium-sized building with a neon sign handing over declaring it as ‘HARU’s SEAFOOD AND SUSHI’. +
Simple, straight to the point.
There’s only a few people waiting outside, so thankfully they don’t get /too/ many glares as Nikolai marches into the restaurant with Chuuya on his heels.
Inside, it’s warm and smells delicious. It’s packed enough that some people have been left+
There’s only a few people waiting outside, so thankfully they don’t get /too/ many glares as Nikolai marches into the restaurant with Chuuya on his heels.
Inside, it’s warm and smells delicious. It’s packed enough that some people have been left+
standing as they wait for their orders. The noise of a bustling restaurant fills the space entirely.
Chuuya stumbles when Nikolai grabs him by the arm, dragging him to the far side of the restaurant, to one of the tables near the back.
Three people are already seated: two+
Chuuya stumbles when Nikolai grabs him by the arm, dragging him to the far side of the restaurant, to one of the tables near the back.
Three people are already seated: two+
boys and a girl.
The girl is facing away from them, pink hair bobbing as she talks animatedly to the boy in front of her, who looks like he’s about to start arguing.
The other boy though...
He looks up as they approach, and Chuuya feels his brown-eyed gaze like a /punch/.+
The girl is facing away from them, pink hair bobbing as she talks animatedly to the boy in front of her, who looks like he’s about to start arguing.
The other boy though...
He looks up as they approach, and Chuuya feels his brown-eyed gaze like a /punch/.+
Chuuya has seen attractive people before, on TV and on social media. He’s known people that he would objectively label as /attractive/—
But none of them had golden-brown eyes and a small, crooked smile, watching him with interest as he comes closer.
Chuuya feels /pinned/, +
But none of them had golden-brown eyes and a small, crooked smile, watching him with interest as he comes closer.
Chuuya feels /pinned/, +
struggling to bring in breath under the weight of that gaze, stumbling over his own feet.
God, he can even feel his cheeks starting to heat up, and he’s making a fool of himself /already/.
Luckily, Nikolai saves the day—again— by waving and calling out, “hey guys!”
The girl+
God, he can even feel his cheeks starting to heat up, and he’s making a fool of himself /already/.
Luckily, Nikolai saves the day—again— by waving and calling out, “hey guys!”
The girl+
finally turns around, a welcoming smile on her face. She has to blow her bangs out of her eyes, revealing eyes that look more purple than blue. “If it isn’t our favorite clown.”
Nikolai beams, so clearly he doesn’t take /that/ as an insult, ushering Chuuya forward.
He slides+
Nikolai beams, so clearly he doesn’t take /that/ as an insult, ushering Chuuya forward.
He slides+
into the booth in the middle, and yeah, he’d probably prefer being on the end, but he feels too flustered to refuse and Nikolai squishes in after him before he can change his mind.
“You must be Chuuya, right?” The girl says, dipping her head. “I’m Yuan.”
Chuuya tips his +
“You must be Chuuya, right?” The girl says, dipping her head. “I’m Yuan.”
Chuuya tips his +
head with a small smile. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”
“That’s Shirase,” Yuan says, pointing across the table at the silver-haired boy she’d been speaking with earlier. He’s taken his phone out, and vaguely waves an acknowledgment at Chuuya between typing frantically.
“And /that/—“+
“That’s Shirase,” Yuan says, pointing across the table at the silver-haired boy she’d been speaking with earlier. He’s taken his phone out, and vaguely waves an acknowledgment at Chuuya between typing frantically.
“And /that/—“+
The other boy, the brown-eyed one Chuuya can practically sense breathing, interrupts her with a good-natured glare. “I’m Shuuji.”
/Shuuji/. Even his name is cute.
/Shuuji/ shakes his dark hair out of his face, offering Chuuya a blinding grin, all white teeth, that knocks +
/Shuuji/. Even his name is cute.
/Shuuji/ shakes his dark hair out of his face, offering Chuuya a blinding grin, all white teeth, that knocks +
him off-kilter again, scrambling to pick up his self-control before he mutters something stupid like ‘oh my god, you’re /hot/—‘.
“Hey,” he says, trying to play it cool, even though he’s half-convinced the entire table can hear his heart pounding, “I’m Chuuya.”
“Chuuya,” +
“Hey,” he says, trying to play it cool, even though he’s half-convinced the entire table can hear his heart pounding, “I’m Chuuya.”
“Chuuya,” +
Shuuji repeats, slowly, like he’s tasting his name on his tongue, and Chuuya’s face is on /fire/. “That’s a nice name. I like it.”
Chuuya has to forcibly look away from his lips. “Oh. Thanks. I— I like yours too.”
/Stupid/. Why is he turning into a stuttering, awkward mess+
Chuuya has to forcibly look away from his lips. “Oh. Thanks. I— I like yours too.”
/Stupid/. Why is he turning into a stuttering, awkward mess+
/now/, when he needs to be smooth and suave? Why is he so tongue-tied when Shuuji hasn’t done anything more than introduce himself?
(Though he /is/ still staring at Chuuya, gaze slowly sliding over his features and then further down, over his shoulders. His gaze feels like a +
(Though he /is/ still staring at Chuuya, gaze slowly sliding over his features and then further down, over his shoulders. His gaze feels like a +
brand, heavy and burning.
He’s got a small smirk on his face.)
“We ordered for you guys, hope that’s okay,” Yuan says suddenly, nearly startling Chuuya out of his seat.
Nikolai bobs his head, and Chuuya is starting to see /why/ he chose the end seat, because he’s +
He’s got a small smirk on his face.)
“We ordered for you guys, hope that’s okay,” Yuan says suddenly, nearly startling Chuuya out of his seat.
Nikolai bobs his head, and Chuuya is starting to see /why/ he chose the end seat, because he’s +
constantly fidgeting. Leg bouncing, fingers tapping at his knee, shifting in his seat. The man looks like sitting still is torture for him.
“We got a bit of everything, so you can just pick out whatever you want, Chuuya.”
Oh, sure, that sounds fine. He opens his mouth to +
“We got a bit of everything, so you can just pick out whatever you want, Chuuya.”
Oh, sure, that sounds fine. He opens his mouth to +
respond, but Shuuji cuts him off.
“You guys are going to have to eat the crab though. Dad eats it /all/ the time, it’s actually kind of gross. I’m getting sick of it.”
Shirase snorts, putting away his phone finally. He nudges Shuuji with his shoulder, teasing. “Don’t start+
“You guys are going to have to eat the crab though. Dad eats it /all/ the time, it’s actually kind of gross. I’m getting sick of it.”
Shirase snorts, putting away his phone finally. He nudges Shuuji with his shoulder, teasing. “Don’t start+
/another/ complaining session about your Dad.”
Shuuji flushes, clearly embarrassed, and his responding nudge is a little rougher than it needs to be. He does drop the subject though, turning back to Chuuya. “So— how did you meet Nikolai?”
Chuuya pulls his hands under the +
Shuuji flushes, clearly embarrassed, and his responding nudge is a little rougher than it needs to be. He does drop the subject though, turning back to Chuuya. “So— how did you meet Nikolai?”
Chuuya pulls his hands under the +
table, fiddling with the edge of his jacket to dispel some nervous energy. “We’re roommates, actually.”
Shuuji’s eyes light up. “Oh really? Guess I’ll be seeing a lot more of you then, huh?” He says, leering at him with a suggestive smirk.
Chuuya doesn’t notice, too busy +
Shuuji’s eyes light up. “Oh really? Guess I’ll be seeing a lot more of you then, huh?” He says, leering at him with a suggestive smirk.
Chuuya doesn’t notice, too busy +
beating himself up mentally, because he’s not usually like /this/. He’s not usually this shy, or anxious, or nervous.Yeah, it could be because he just moved on his own for the first time ever, or the fact that a cute boy is staring him down—
But he doesn’t /like/ it. He doesn’t+
But he doesn’t /like/ it. He doesn’t+
/want/ to be some shy, nervous boy, acting like the timid main character of a romance manga.
He’s always been headstrong and stubborn—Dad says it runs in the family, he got it from his mother— so why does he suddenly feel like all his bravery has deserted him?
Fake it ‘til +
He’s always been headstrong and stubborn—Dad says it runs in the family, he got it from his mother— so why does he suddenly feel like all his bravery has deserted him?
Fake it ‘til +
you make it, Chuuya reminds himself.
Shoving the nerves away so he can deal with them later, he straightens in his seat, trying to replicate the feeling he gets when he’s so hyped up on adrenaline that it feels like /nothing/ can touch him.
It works only a little bit, but +
Shoving the nerves away so he can deal with them later, he straightens in his seat, trying to replicate the feeling he gets when he’s so hyped up on adrenaline that it feels like /nothing/ can touch him.
It works only a little bit, but +
it’s enough for him to look Shuuji in his eyes and say “maybe if you’re lucky.”
Golden-brown eyes flash, like Chuuya has become a lot more /interesting/ than he was a moment ago, sending another thrill of excitement into Chuuya’s stomach.
Beside him, Yuan makes a soft noise+
Golden-brown eyes flash, like Chuuya has become a lot more /interesting/ than he was a moment ago, sending another thrill of excitement into Chuuya’s stomach.
Beside him, Yuan makes a soft noise+
of disgust. "Not in front of my food, boys."
Shirase opens his mouth to tell her that she doesn't /have/ her food yet--
Just as that moment, the server, a harried looking brunet, sets down a few plates of food in front of them, as well as some extra plates. He lingers just +
Shirase opens his mouth to tell her that she doesn't /have/ her food yet--
Just as that moment, the server, a harried looking brunet, sets down a few plates of food in front of them, as well as some extra plates. He lingers just +
long enough to pour water for the new arrivals, and hurries off when they say they don't want anything else to drink.
Yuan stares at Shirase with a raised brow, daring him to say something, and looks incredibly smug when he shuts his mouth.
Nikolai digs right in, piling his+
Yuan stares at Shirase with a raised brow, daring him to say something, and looks incredibly smug when he shuts his mouth.
Nikolai digs right in, piling his+
plate with food and devouring it with a gusto that speaks of days of hunger.
Chuuya waits for the others to pick their favorites before selecting a few of his own pieces. He /does/ take a few pieces of crab. It's not his favorite--and he probably doesn't like it as much as +
Chuuya waits for the others to pick their favorites before selecting a few of his own pieces. He /does/ take a few pieces of crab. It's not his favorite--and he probably doesn't like it as much as +
Shuuji's father apparently does-- but he's not going to complain about food, not when he's /this/ hungry.
Yuan pops some rice into her mouth. "So-- you go to Keio too?"
Chuuya nods, swallowing his mouthful. "Yep. Studying engineering, though Dad wants me to be a doctor." +
Yuan pops some rice into her mouth. "So-- you go to Keio too?"
Chuuya nods, swallowing his mouthful. "Yep. Studying engineering, though Dad wants me to be a doctor." +
Raising a piece of shrimp in a makeshift toast, Yuan says, "Yeah, me too. Here's to disappointing our parents once again."
Shirase raises his bowl in quick salute, though he doesn't stop devouring his food. Not to be judgemental, but with the dyed-silver hair, and the multiple +
Shirase raises his bowl in quick salute, though he doesn't stop devouring his food. Not to be judgemental, but with the dyed-silver hair, and the multiple +
piercings in his ears, he would probably be firmly placed in the "disappointment" category, at least at far as Chuuya's father is concerned.
Chuuya tried to pierce his own ears, once, with a safety pin and a chunk of ice. Luckily, his father walked in on him before he could +
Chuuya tried to pierce his own ears, once, with a safety pin and a chunk of ice. Luckily, his father walked in on him before he could +
actually /do/ it-- a blessing, because piercings like that tend to reject harshly-- and proceeded to have an entire hour-long breakdown about how Chuuya was headed down the wrong path and one day he was gonna wake up to find his son's face plastered over the morning news for +
robbing the local convenience store.
(For the record, Chuuya has never stolen anything and has never felt the desire to do so, not that Rimbaud listened to /that/ reasoning.)
Shuuji leans back in his seat, smug. He picks up a piece of fried mackerel, examining it closely as +
(For the record, Chuuya has never stolen anything and has never felt the desire to do so, not that Rimbaud listened to /that/ reasoning.)
Shuuji leans back in his seat, smug. He picks up a piece of fried mackerel, examining it closely as +
he gloats, "/I'm/ studying business. I'll be taking over my dad's business, one day. Much better than being a doctor."
Then he takes a bite out of the fish, chewing with a self-satisfied air.
Beside him, Nikolai sits back, rubbing his stomach absentmindedly. He's already +
Then he takes a bite out of the fish, chewing with a self-satisfied air.
Beside him, Nikolai sits back, rubbing his stomach absentmindedly. He's already +
polished off one plate, and judging by the way he's eyeing the plates spread over the table, he's about to make himself another one. "My parents are very proud of me, no matter what I study."
Well, ain't that peachy for him, Chuuya silently grumbles, stabbing his rice. He tries+
Well, ain't that peachy for him, Chuuya silently grumbles, stabbing his rice. He tries+
not to be bitter about it, but sometimes it feels like /all/ of his fathers hopes and dreams rest on his shoulders.
As the youngest, he's supposed to somehow be /better/ than his siblings-- both of whom are decently successful, with Kouyou running her own company and Kyouka +
As the youngest, he's supposed to somehow be /better/ than his siblings-- both of whom are decently successful, with Kouyou running her own company and Kyouka +
well on her way to a fashion degree with a foot in the door at a fast-growing clothing company.
But neither of those are what Rimbaud wanted for them, and while he's /happy/ that they have found a career that makes them happy--
He has...expectations.
Expectations that are +
But neither of those are what Rimbaud wanted for them, and while he's /happy/ that they have found a career that makes them happy--
He has...expectations.
Expectations that are +
now piled on Chuuya's shoulders, because he's the youngest, he's the /last/ chance Rimbaud has to have a doctor or a lawyer in the family.
Don't get him wrong, his dad loves him and wants him to be happy--
But sometimes the shoes Chuuya is supposed to fill feel like they were+
Don't get him wrong, his dad loves him and wants him to be happy--
But sometimes the shoes Chuuya is supposed to fill feel like they were+
made for giants.
He enrolled at Keio because of those expectations -- because as the third child of a single father that was /barely/ middle class means he /cannot/ afford this university outright-- and while he /does/ have ambition--
Sometimes, it makes him feel directionless+
He enrolled at Keio because of those expectations -- because as the third child of a single father that was /barely/ middle class means he /cannot/ afford this university outright-- and while he /does/ have ambition--
Sometimes, it makes him feel directionless+
and lost that he doesn’t really know where he’s going in life, especially when compared to someone who /apparently/ already has a company ready to fall into their hands.
The next bite of rice tastes almost sour.
Yuan rolls her eyes, pointing her chopsticks at Shuuji almost +
The next bite of rice tastes almost sour.
Yuan rolls her eyes, pointing her chopsticks at Shuuji almost +
threateningly. “Don’t rub it in. Not all of us are lucky enough to be next in line for the throne or whatever.”
Shuuji, who has been taking small, delicate bites, puts his nose in the air. “It’s not luck, sweetheart, it’s pure hard work. I’m not top of my class for /nothing/.”+
Shuuji, who has been taking small, delicate bites, puts his nose in the air. “It’s not luck, sweetheart, it’s pure hard work. I’m not top of my class for /nothing/.”+
Shirase snorts. “Yeah, at your prep school in Yokohama. Keio is competitive; how long can you keep that up?”
Shuuji sets his chopsticks down with a little more force than necessary, turning a fierce glare on Shirase. The silver-haired teen doesn’t seem bothered in the least. +
Shuuji sets his chopsticks down with a little more force than necessary, turning a fierce glare on Shirase. The silver-haired teen doesn’t seem bothered in the least. +
“I don’t want to hear that from someone who didn’t rank at all, /and/ doesn’t go to Keio.”
Shirase shrugs again, and although his expression doesn’t change, his eyes seem very far away. “Like Yuan said: not all of us are lucky.”
...there’s definitely a story behind /that/ +
Shirase shrugs again, and although his expression doesn’t change, his eyes seem very far away. “Like Yuan said: not all of us are lucky.”
...there’s definitely a story behind /that/ +
that Chuuya is interested in hearing about.
He tries to dispel the weird tension building in the group by asking a question of his own. “So...did you all meet at Keio or?”
It’s Yuan who answers, after taking a long sip of her drink. “Oh no. I’ve been friends with Shirase +
He tries to dispel the weird tension building in the group by asking a question of his own. “So...did you all meet at Keio or?”
It’s Yuan who answers, after taking a long sip of her drink. “Oh no. I’ve been friends with Shirase +
since.... well, since forever. They,” she gestures to Shirase and Shuuji, “went to the same prep school, and have been friendly rivals ever since. And Nikolai met Shuuji—“
“At work! A few weeks ago, when I first moved here.” The white-haired boy says, cheerfully interrupting.+
“At work! A few weeks ago, when I first moved here.” The white-haired boy says, cheerfully interrupting.+
Chuuya blinks. Nikolai having a job makes some sense, because he’s a foreign student, which is never cheap, even if the exchange rate is good.
Plus, Nikolai’s japanese is /very/ good and conversational, so obviously he had to pick that up in a non-schooling situation...
But +
Plus, Nikolai’s japanese is /very/ good and conversational, so obviously he had to pick that up in a non-schooling situation...
But +
Shuuji? Even Chuuya, who can be considered ‘uneducated’ on these things, can tell his leather jacket and golden watch /ooze/ money.
“It’s my favorite café. They have the most exquisite coffee. I would spend my entire fortune there,” Shuuji sighs, sounding blissful.
Well. That+
“It’s my favorite café. They have the most exquisite coffee. I would spend my entire fortune there,” Shuuji sighs, sounding blissful.
Well. That+
explains /that/.
Still, though, it’s a little awkward to be the new friend in a group that obviously already has a decent amount of history together. Especially when his only connection to them is that he /happens/ to be Nikolai’s roommate.
He chews mechanically for the +
Still, though, it’s a little awkward to be the new friend in a group that obviously already has a decent amount of history together. Especially when his only connection to them is that he /happens/ to be Nikolai’s roommate.
He chews mechanically for the +
rest of the meal, and joins in on the conversation whenever he sees an opening.
When everyone is done, they stack the plates back up in a half-hearted show of cleanliness (though Shuuji does /not/ clean up the rice he spilled on the table) before they head for the checkout.+
When everyone is done, they stack the plates back up in a half-hearted show of cleanliness (though Shuuji does /not/ clean up the rice he spilled on the table) before they head for the checkout.+
Shuuji is kind enough to pay for the meal, handing over a shiny platinum AMEX card (something that Chuuya has only ever /heard/ about in movies and books, and never thought he’d see in real life, let alone know someone who had one).
The restaurant has only gotten more packed as+
The restaurant has only gotten more packed as+
they ate, which means that Chuuya is shoved close to Shuuji’s back as he pushes his way through the crowd, fingers hooked in the back of the jacket.
(He’s not sure if Yuan’s teasing eyebrow wiggle before she pushed him behind Shuuji makes him feel singled out or /included/.)+
(He’s not sure if Yuan’s teasing eyebrow wiggle before she pushed him behind Shuuji makes him feel singled out or /included/.)+
(He does his best to ignore how broad Shuuji’s shoulders seem to be and how warmth seems to pour off him in waves. He doesn’t think he succeeds, because his face feels like it’s on fire again.)
Outside, the temperature has dropped as the sun sets, making Chuuya shiver briefly.+
Outside, the temperature has dropped as the sun sets, making Chuuya shiver briefly.+
He wore his jacket the whole time inside, so the crisp air feels like it’s cutting right through the thin layer—
An arm drapes over his shoulders, pulling him into a blisteringly warm side. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm.”
Chuuya actually wasn’t worried at all, but it /is/+
An arm drapes over his shoulders, pulling him into a blisteringly warm side. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm.”
Chuuya actually wasn’t worried at all, but it /is/+
nice to be pressed up against Shuuji like this, practically curled up against his side.
Yuan wiggles her eyebrows at him again, and this time he can’t help but stick his tongue out at her. She bursts into laughter, which makes Chuuya feel accomplished.
Maybe fitting in won’t+
Yuan wiggles her eyebrows at him again, and this time he can’t help but stick his tongue out at her. She bursts into laughter, which makes Chuuya feel accomplished.
Maybe fitting in won’t+
be so hard after all.
“Thanks...Shuuji,” he mutters, tasting the name on his tongue. The dazzling grin he gets for that is enough to send him stumbling blind, but he manages to keep it together.
Shuuji leads them all to a parking garage, strolling casually up to a sleek, low+
“Thanks...Shuuji,” he mutters, tasting the name on his tongue. The dazzling grin he gets for that is enough to send him stumbling blind, but he manages to keep it together.
Shuuji leads them all to a parking garage, strolling casually up to a sleek, low+
car, something that /reeks/ of luxury.
Shuuji clicks the button of something in his pocket, and the car starts up remotely with a purr.
Chuuya tries not to gape too obviously at the car, but /jesus/, he can already tell that thing costs /way/ more than his /very/ expensive +
Shuuji clicks the button of something in his pocket, and the car starts up remotely with a purr.
Chuuya tries not to gape too obviously at the car, but /jesus/, he can already tell that thing costs /way/ more than his /very/ expensive +
tuition.
With a sinking sense of shame and horror, he starts to realize that these people are /way/ out of his league.
He never went /without/ as a child— but his father was a single dad of three, and even though his salary wasn’t anything to scoff at, there was not a lot of+
With a sinking sense of shame and horror, he starts to realize that these people are /way/ out of his league.
He never went /without/ as a child— but his father was a single dad of three, and even though his salary wasn’t anything to scoff at, there was not a lot of+
extra money lying around. There was always school fines or sports club fees or a new shoes to buy.
Hell, the most expensive thing Chuuya has ever owned were his /braces/ when he was twelve.
And now, looking at these people who obviously have top-of-the-line /everything/ +
Hell, the most expensive thing Chuuya has ever owned were his /braces/ when he was twelve.
And now, looking at these people who obviously have top-of-the-line /everything/ +
(even Yuan, who is very nice and bubbly, has nails pristine enough that it doesn’t look like she’s so much as scratched her own ass)—
He feels like utter /shit/ in his thrifted red jacket and cheap shoes.
Nikolai and Shirase climb into the back of the car without hesitation. +
He feels like utter /shit/ in his thrifted red jacket and cheap shoes.
Nikolai and Shirase climb into the back of the car without hesitation. +
Chuuya hesitates outside, fighting off the odd sense that his /poorness/ might infect the seats or something.
There’s a brief altercation with Shuuji and Yuan, though Chuuya is not close enough to hear anything besides a final hissed “fine! I’ll get in the back, because I’m a +
There’s a brief altercation with Shuuji and Yuan, though Chuuya is not close enough to hear anything besides a final hissed “fine! I’ll get in the back, because I’m a +
/good wingwoman/!”.
Then Shuuji is turning to him, and Chuuya has no choice but to smile, hoping like hell he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels.
“Front seat’s all yours, babe,” he says, winking at him as he opens the door.
Oh, great. At least he doesn’t have to be shoved+
Then Shuuji is turning to him, and Chuuya has no choice but to smile, hoping like hell he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels.
“Front seat’s all yours, babe,” he says, winking at him as he opens the door.
Oh, great. At least he doesn’t have to be shoved+
in the small backseat between two of the others.
He slides in carefully, and the black leather of the seats is sleek and smooth under his hands, without so much as a speck of dirt. It's /clearly/ been customized, because the middle of the dashboard is taken up by a large +
He slides in carefully, and the black leather of the seats is sleek and smooth under his hands, without so much as a speck of dirt. It's /clearly/ been customized, because the middle of the dashboard is taken up by a large +
touchscreen. It's awake, frozen on a screen that demands a passcode.
The red interior lights are low, barely lighting up the inside of the car. He can barely feel the purr of the car underneath him, and the only reason he knows it's /on/ is because the engine button is lit up.+
The red interior lights are low, barely lighting up the inside of the car. He can barely feel the purr of the car underneath him, and the only reason he knows it's /on/ is because the engine button is lit up.+
This is probably /the/ swankiest vehicle he's ever going to sit in, and he tries to drink in the experience as much as possible(while avoiding touching things, because his nails are ragged from moving, and it just looks /wrong/ contrasted with the luxury).
The driver door opens+
The driver door opens+
and Shuuji climbs in with the confidence of someone much more used to luxury.
(Really though, what kind of college student needs a car in Japan? Doesn't he live in the dorms with everyone else? It's much more practical to take the train.)
For some reason, Shuuji doesn't touch+
(Really though, what kind of college student needs a car in Japan? Doesn't he live in the dorms with everyone else? It's much more practical to take the train.)
For some reason, Shuuji doesn't touch+
the screen, choosing instead to start up some music on his phone as he backs out of the parking spot.
He's a bad driver compared to Chuuya's dad, swerving in the lane as he joins in on the conversation or starts singing along with the song. Chuuya spends the entire drive +
He's a bad driver compared to Chuuya's dad, swerving in the lane as he joins in on the conversation or starts singing along with the song. Chuuya spends the entire drive +
plastered to his door, clutching onto the handle for dear life, because he /swears/ he sees his life flash before his eyes at least twice.
Halfway through (by this time, he would've been back on campus if he'd taken the train, Chuuya notes with slight hysteria), the music cuts+
Halfway through (by this time, he would've been back on campus if he'd taken the train, Chuuya notes with slight hysteria), the music cuts+
out.
Shuuji's phone is ringing. The name on the phone: DAZAI OSAMU (dad).
The backseat breaks out in a loud "ooooooohhh, you're in /trouble/~" in near synchronization. Yuan cackles, leaning forward until her head is nearly in the front seat with them. "Does your dad know you+
Shuuji's phone is ringing. The name on the phone: DAZAI OSAMU (dad).
The backseat breaks out in a loud "ooooooohhh, you're in /trouble/~" in near synchronization. Yuan cackles, leaning forward until her head is nearly in the front seat with them. "Does your dad know you+
have this car?"
He /stole/ this car? From his rich dad? Who may or may not call the police on them for said stolen car?
For a brief, terrible moment, Chuuya envisions calling his dad from inside a jail cell and explaining how he got arrested on literally his /first/ day away+
He /stole/ this car? From his rich dad? Who may or may not call the police on them for said stolen car?
For a brief, terrible moment, Chuuya envisions calling his dad from inside a jail cell and explaining how he got arrested on literally his /first/ day away+
from home.
He groans internally, running a hand through his hair. He's never going to be allowed outside without supervision /again/.
Shuuji rolls his eyes. "Of course he does. He went out of the country for a few days, and he said I could do whatever I wanted. He's probably+
He groans internally, running a hand through his hair. He's never going to be allowed outside without supervision /again/.
Shuuji rolls his eyes. "Of course he does. He went out of the country for a few days, and he said I could do whatever I wanted. He's probably+
just calling to let me know he got home safely."
Chuuya /highly/ doubts that, considering he calls again /immediately/ after Shuuji sends the first call to voicemail. That's basically code for angry parental unit.
But Shuuji doesn't answer, and the cops don't appear out of+
Chuuya /highly/ doubts that, considering he calls again /immediately/ after Shuuji sends the first call to voicemail. That's basically code for angry parental unit.
But Shuuji doesn't answer, and the cops don't appear out of+
nowhere to haul him away, so at least Chuuya will somehow survive the evening.
The energy is somewhat dimmed though, with the mention of /parents/, so the rest of the ride is filled with quiet phone-scrolling, or Nikolai filling the quiet with his seemingly-endless stream of+
The energy is somewhat dimmed though, with the mention of /parents/, so the rest of the ride is filled with quiet phone-scrolling, or Nikolai filling the quiet with his seemingly-endless stream of+
chatter.
When the university campus finally rolls into view, Chuuya breathes a sigh of relief. He never thought he'd miss a bed he's never slept in, but here he is.
Shuuji parks (crookedly, with the rear end sticking out and /begging/ to be hit by oncoming traffic) and steps +
When the university campus finally rolls into view, Chuuya breathes a sigh of relief. He never thought he'd miss a bed he's never slept in, but here he is.
Shuuji parks (crookedly, with the rear end sticking out and /begging/ to be hit by oncoming traffic) and steps +
out to let the trio in the back climb out onto the sidewalk.
Meanwhile, Chuuya is tugging at the door handle with increasing desperation, because it seems to be child-locked from the inside (for what fucking reason, he doesn't know) and he can't seem to find the lock, and he's +
Meanwhile, Chuuya is tugging at the door handle with increasing desperation, because it seems to be child-locked from the inside (for what fucking reason, he doesn't know) and he can't seem to find the lock, and he's +
starting to look like an /idiot/, too poor to even know how to open a damn car door by himself.
He's debating sliding across the seat to exit through the drivers door,because he's starting to feel frustrated and /trapped/--
But before he can, Shuuji drops back inside, shutting+
He's debating sliding across the seat to exit through the drivers door,because he's starting to feel frustrated and /trapped/--
But before he can, Shuuji drops back inside, shutting+
the door with a resounding thud.
The inside of the car seems oppressively silent now, and Chuuya slowly stops pulling at the handle. He doesn't want to seem like an idiot, not when Shuuji is /staring/ at him, eyes nearly black in the darkness.
Then he reaches out, putting a +
The inside of the car seems oppressively silent now, and Chuuya slowly stops pulling at the handle. He doesn't want to seem like an idiot, not when Shuuji is /staring/ at him, eyes nearly black in the darkness.
Then he reaches out, putting a +
hand on Chuuya's thigh. Not low either, no his fingertips are /inches/ away from his crotch, and Chuuya is caught between anxiety and excitement.
Yes, he might /want/ Shuuji to touch him like that, and might even enjoy it under other circumstances--
But not when he has +
Yes, he might /want/ Shuuji to touch him like that, and might even enjoy it under other circumstances--
But not when he has +
nowhere else to /go/, not when he feels pinned between him and closed car door that he /can't get open/--
Shuuji smiles at him, like he has him right where he wants him. "Let me have your phone number."
Oh.
Well, he wasn't expecting /that/, and certainly not for it to happen +
Shuuji smiles at him, like he has him right where he wants him. "Let me have your phone number."
Oh.
Well, he wasn't expecting /that/, and certainly not for it to happen +
like /this/ but he's not /opposed/ to it.
"Sure. Do you have a pen?" He asks, figuring he's going to write down his number on his palm like every teen romance movie out there.
Instead, a phone, already opened to the contacts page, is shoved underneath his nose insistently.
+
"Sure. Do you have a pen?" He asks, figuring he's going to write down his number on his palm like every teen romance movie out there.
Instead, a phone, already opened to the contacts page, is shoved underneath his nose insistently.
+
Chuuya takes it, entering in his phone number under the hawk-like gaze of Shuuji. He even inputs his name, double-checking to make sure the number is correct before handing back the phone.
"There," he says quietly, "now could you help me--"
Shuuji cuts him off. "I'm going to+
"There," he says quietly, "now could you help me--"
Shuuji cuts him off. "I'm going to+
call you, make sure you didn't accidentally give me the wrong number."
He /says/ accidentally, but the way he's staring him down with hard eyes as he raises his phone to his ear makes it /seem/ like he doesn't believe it would be an accident.
Why wouldn't he give him the right+
He /says/ accidentally, but the way he's staring him down with hard eyes as he raises his phone to his ear makes it /seem/ like he doesn't believe it would be an accident.
Why wouldn't he give him the right+
number? Why does he feel so /cornered/ by him?
When his phone doesn't immediately ring, Chuuya starts to panic, because he /swears/ he gave Shuuji the right number, and why is he starting to look so /irritated/?
It would just be a mistake, so why does it seem so /personal/?
+
When his phone doesn't immediately ring, Chuuya starts to panic, because he /swears/ he gave Shuuji the right number, and why is he starting to look so /irritated/?
It would just be a mistake, so why does it seem so /personal/?
+
Then, finally, miraculously, the call goes through and his phone rings.
Sighing in relief, he fishes it out of his pocket, and flashes the screen at Shuuji to prove that he did, in fact,give him the right phone number.
The way his expression instantly clears back into friendly+
Sighing in relief, he fishes it out of his pocket, and flashes the screen at Shuuji to prove that he did, in fact,give him the right phone number.
The way his expression instantly clears back into friendly+
eagerness, like the last thirty seconds never happened. "Great! I'll be texting you, darling."
Then he reaches over to press a button on his side of the car, which makes a clicking sound.
Chuuya pulls on the handle again, and this time the door opens without a single problem.+
Then he reaches over to press a button on his side of the car, which makes a clicking sound.
Chuuya pulls on the handle again, and this time the door opens without a single problem.+
He stumbles out into the street, confused as hell, because what the /fuck/ was that all about?
Did...did Shuuji /lock/ him in the car? Did he want to get a few moments alone with him, or did he just forget that it was locked?
And, assumingly, he wasn't very /subtle/ about his+
Did...did Shuuji /lock/ him in the car? Did he want to get a few moments alone with him, or did he just forget that it was locked?
And, assumingly, he wasn't very /subtle/ about his+
insta-crush, considering Yuan teased him silently about it earlier /and/ Shuuji asked for his number so...
Why was he so convinced that he would've given him the wrong one?
The whole situation is baffling, and Chuuya doesn't know what to /make/ of it, because that's not how he+
Why was he so convinced that he would've given him the wrong one?
The whole situation is baffling, and Chuuya doesn't know what to /make/ of it, because that's not how he+
/heard/ how these situations were supposed to go but...
Besides his /very/ brief explorations with a few girls that were friends of the family (which led to the discovery that not only was Chuuya gay, he was also gay as hell), he's only ever watched movies and read books.
None+
Besides his /very/ brief explorations with a few girls that were friends of the family (which led to the discovery that not only was Chuuya gay, he was also gay as hell), he's only ever watched movies and read books.
None+
of his close friends have partners,and he doesn't feel comfortable enough calling up his older sister to ask how /her/ boyfriend got her number so...
Maybe he's just inexperienced.Maybe he felt kind of uncomfortable because he's just never been in that kind of situation before,+
Maybe he's just inexperienced.Maybe he felt kind of uncomfortable because he's just never been in that kind of situation before,+
with a cute boy he liked staring him down.
Maybe that's just the way things are supposed to go.
Maybe he's just being overdramatic,and needs to learn how to relax a little.
The night has gotten even colder,so he wraps his jacket tighter around himself,heading up the sidewalk.+
Maybe that's just the way things are supposed to go.
Maybe he's just being overdramatic,and needs to learn how to relax a little.
The night has gotten even colder,so he wraps his jacket tighter around himself,heading up the sidewalk.+
Yuan and Shirase have waited with Nikolai for him, but they quickly say their goodbyes and head off together off campus. Apparently, they live in apartments nearby, and Chuuya is so jealous he could cry.
Mercifully, Nikolai is quiet as they walk back to their dorm, preoccupied+
Mercifully, Nikolai is quiet as they walk back to their dorm, preoccupied+
with some game on his phone that plays tinny russian music.
Chuuya spends the entire night /thinking/.
---------
Dazai wakes up in a haze of exhaustion, sleep sucking at him with the force of a rip current, trying to pull him back under.
Truth be told, with the jet lag, he +
Chuuya spends the entire night /thinking/.
---------
Dazai wakes up in a haze of exhaustion, sleep sucking at him with the force of a rip current, trying to pull him back under.
Truth be told, with the jet lag, he +
doesn't know what time it is. No light ever makes it through the blackout curtains.
Though, he /can/ hear the dogs panting from somewhere in the room, which leads to the assumption that it's somewhere near school hours. They like to stalk Shuuji around the house whenever he's+
Though, he /can/ hear the dogs panting from somewhere in the room, which leads to the assumption that it's somewhere near school hours. They like to stalk Shuuji around the house whenever he's+
home, and Shuuji usually spends most of his free hours in his room playing the latest games.
So. It's probably not /too/ late, and while his body screams for an extra few hours of sleep--
His mind is annoyingly awake, resistant to the idea of sleep. Already, his mind is +
So. It's probably not /too/ late, and while his body screams for an extra few hours of sleep--
His mind is annoyingly awake, resistant to the idea of sleep. Already, his mind is +
conjuring up a list of tasks he needs to do, sorting them by order of importance, and then re-sorting them by urgency, running in endless circles.
/God/, Dazai just wants to /sleep./
But that's not happening today, so he drags himself out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom+
/God/, Dazai just wants to /sleep./
But that's not happening today, so he drags himself out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom+
He stares at himself blearily in the mirror, noting how pale he looks under the lights. It looks like he's lost a bit of weight,which makes sense because he hasn't had the time to hit the gym or even eat properly lately.
He needs a haircut.He needs a shave.
He needs a goddman+
He needs a haircut.He needs a shave.
He needs a goddman+
vacation.
But he's not going to get one, not anytime soon, so he pushes away from the mirror and turns the shower on to the hottest temperature he can stand.
The gray sweatpants he's wearing get thrown in the vague direction of the hamper. He'll pick them up later. Maybe. +
But he's not going to get one, not anytime soon, so he pushes away from the mirror and turns the shower on to the hottest temperature he can stand.
The gray sweatpants he's wearing get thrown in the vague direction of the hamper. He'll pick them up later. Maybe. +
The hot water feels like /heaven/ on his sore muscles, soothing away most of his pain. Bracing his hands on the tiles, he lets his head hang and enjoys the heat for a long moment.
Water drips down his hair and into his face. He closes his eyes with a sigh, drifting somewhere +
Water drips down his hair and into his face. He closes his eyes with a sigh, drifting somewhere +
between exhaustion and distant anxiety.
Despite how hard he's been working lately, trying to figure out /why/ the russian Rats are so active in the city lately, he's barely closer to discovering their plans.
And in /his/ job, if he doesn't have the correct information, or +
Despite how hard he's been working lately, trying to figure out /why/ the russian Rats are so active in the city lately, he's barely closer to discovering their plans.
And in /his/ job, if he doesn't have the correct information, or +
/enough/ information, he can /quickly/ end on the chopping block of whoever wants him the most.
So. More work ahead, and /maybe/, if he's lucky, a light somewhere at the end of the tunnel.
Sighing, he washes himself up quickly, soaping up his hair. The stubble, he leaves, +
So. More work ahead, and /maybe/, if he's lucky, a light somewhere at the end of the tunnel.
Sighing, he washes himself up quickly, soaping up his hair. The stubble, he leaves, +
because he doesn't care enough to take the time to shave right now.
He's not going to see anyone that he needs to impress today, anyways. Today is all about hitting up all his information dealers and for that, the rugged look might be more appropriate.
The scarier he looks, +
He's not going to see anyone that he needs to impress today, anyways. Today is all about hitting up all his information dealers and for that, the rugged look might be more appropriate.
The scarier he looks, +
the more /cooperative/ people tend to be.
Which is why he chooses to wear a dark leather jacket with sewn-in holsters for knives, with a dark maroon shirt underneath and black jeans, paired with his heaviest pair of boots, laced up to his knees.
Is he riding his motorcycle +
Which is why he chooses to wear a dark leather jacket with sewn-in holsters for knives, with a dark maroon shirt underneath and black jeans, paired with his heaviest pair of boots, laced up to his knees.
Is he riding his motorcycle +
today? No. Will he be kicking somebody's ass today?
Considering the sour mood he's in, probably.
He makes sure to grab his travel bag on the way down to the garage, because he needs to put all the things he took with him to France back in their usual spots.
Granted, his car +
Considering the sour mood he's in, probably.
He makes sure to grab his travel bag on the way down to the garage, because he needs to put all the things he took with him to France back in their usual spots.
Granted, his car +
is stocked with all the weapons and tech he needs but he /likes/having all his favorite toys within easy reach.
Besides, he muses to himself,it's probably time he cleans out his car-
His car.
Is gone.
The keys are missing off the rack too,which means--
"/That little shit./"+
Besides, he muses to himself,it's probably time he cleans out his car-
His car.
Is gone.
The keys are missing off the rack too,which means--
"/That little shit./"+
Dazai would consider himself a laidback parent. It feels unfair to start suddenly enforcing rules and expectations on a child who, for many reasons, he hasn’t had much contact with before Shuuji became an adult.
He visited when he could, but between his job and Shuuji’s mother,+
He visited when he could, but between his job and Shuuji’s mother,+
that wasn’t very often.
And besides, Dazai had /no/ idea what to do with a ten-year old going through his typical angsty phase that he knew nothing about. It made visits...awkward, to say the least.
So, Dazai only has two rules:
1. Don’t get arrested. He dislikes police on+
And besides, Dazai had /no/ idea what to do with a ten-year old going through his typical angsty phase that he knew nothing about. It made visits...awkward, to say the least.
So, Dazai only has two rules:
1. Don’t get arrested. He dislikes police on+
a /good/ day, and if he never saw a badge again, it’d be too soon.
2. Don’t touch his stuff, especially the stuff he says not to touch and /especially/ the stuff he uses for work.
Perhaps being lenient is his downfall as a parent. Because, somehow, that has led to his idiot +
2. Don’t touch his stuff, especially the stuff he says not to touch and /especially/ the stuff he uses for work.
Perhaps being lenient is his downfall as a parent. Because, somehow, that has led to his idiot +
son, who took three tries to pass the driving test, driving his car which is /literally/ stocked with an arsenal of weapons, several of which are /illegal/ to own in Japan.
And, knowing Shuuji, he’s probably with his other idiot friends, some of which couldn’t find a braincell+
And, knowing Shuuji, he’s probably with his other idiot friends, some of which couldn’t find a braincell+
between them. (Except for Yuan. He likes Yuan, but she's an /enabler/,so even she has her flaws.)
Pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the growing headache, Dazai groans. Not only is his work for the day derailed, but he'll be lucky if his son doesn't end up on the news+
Pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the growing headache, Dazai groans. Not only is his work for the day derailed, but he'll be lucky if his son doesn't end up on the news+
for weapons trafficking.
Dropping his bag heavily to the floor, he takes his phone from his pocket, unlocking it. It only takes him a second to find Shuuji's contact, because he only uses /this/ phone for his personal life.
He brings his phone to his ear, waiting for the dial+
Dropping his bag heavily to the floor, he takes his phone from his pocket, unlocking it. It only takes him a second to find Shuuji's contact, because he only uses /this/ phone for his personal life.
He brings his phone to his ear, waiting for the dial+
tone. Truthfully, he doesn't have much hope that Shuuji will actually answer his call--he likes to avoid confrontation at any costs, and he probably knows he's in trouble by now-- but what else is he supposed to do? Wait for him to come home in the living room with a lamp turned+
on, like those stereotypical parents in those teen movies? Go hunt him down himself?
(He considers that one /very/ carefully, because there /is/ a tracking chip in the car, and it'd be childs play to access it.)
The phone clicks, sending his call to voicemail. He growls lowly,+
(He considers that one /very/ carefully, because there /is/ a tracking chip in the car, and it'd be childs play to access it.)
The phone clicks, sending his call to voicemail. He growls lowly,+
frustration boiling up inside him. Shuuji is a college student, not a toddler. Dazai shouldn’t have to hide his keys from him like he can’t be trusted.
On second thought, maybe that’s exactly what this incident is proving.
He calls again, with the distant hope that he’ll pick+
On second thought, maybe that’s exactly what this incident is proving.
He calls again, with the distant hope that he’ll pick+
up this time, but mostly so he’ll get the silent message that Dazai knows and he’s /pissed/.
He doesn’t bother leaving voicemails. Shuuji never listens to them anyways.
Shutting off his phone, Dazai decides to give until tonight to return with his car. If he’s not back by the+
He doesn’t bother leaving voicemails. Shuuji never listens to them anyways.
Shutting off his phone, Dazai decides to give until tonight to return with his car. If he’s not back by the+
time Dazai returns from his errands, then he’s going to track him down and drag him back by his /hair/.
In the meantime... Dazai’s eyes fall on his helmet. Guess he’s taking the motorcycle to work today.
A little inconvénient, considering he can’t carry /nearly/ as much stuff+
In the meantime... Dazai’s eyes fall on his helmet. Guess he’s taking the motorcycle to work today.
A little inconvénient, considering he can’t carry /nearly/ as much stuff+
as he couldve otherwise but...
Maybe the wind will help to clear his head.
It’s a good thing he decided to wear his boots today, he muses, before shoving his helmet onto his head and grabbing his keys.
The bike starts with a low purr, vibrating powerfully underneath him.+
Maybe the wind will help to clear his head.
It’s a good thing he decided to wear his boots today, he muses, before shoving his helmet onto his head and grabbing his keys.
The bike starts with a low purr, vibrating powerfully underneath him.+
It’s been too long since he last took it out for a spin.
He revs the engine with a grin, peeling out of the garage wickedly fast.
—
The warehouse he’s looking for is on the outskirts of the industrial sector of the city. It was abandoned after the company downsized and the+
He revs the engine with a grin, peeling out of the garage wickedly fast.
—
The warehouse he’s looking for is on the outskirts of the industrial sector of the city. It was abandoned after the company downsized and the+
building inspectors cited a few flaws in the construction. Technically, it was supposed to be torn down a few years ago, but it keeps getting pushed back.
Or, well—
/Someone/ keeps pushing it back.
Dazai whistles lowly, checking for nearby people before he slips into the +
Or, well—
/Someone/ keeps pushing it back.
Dazai whistles lowly, checking for nearby people before he slips into the +
side door. His bike is parked in a nearby alleyway, half-hidden by a dumpster.
The metal grating of the stairs rattles loudly under his feet, a cheap warning system, and he doesn’t even try to bother to cover his footsteps.
He’s sure the kid has a few cameras on the outside+
The metal grating of the stairs rattles loudly under his feet, a cheap warning system, and he doesn’t even try to bother to cover his footsteps.
He’s sure the kid has a few cameras on the outside+
of the building and already knows he’s coming. If he doesn’t—
Well. Then he’s getting rusty, and what better person to make him dust off his skills than Dazai?
Sure enough though, as soon as he hits the bottom of the stairs and turns right, heading into the darkened corner of+
Well. Then he’s getting rusty, and what better person to make him dust off his skills than Dazai?
Sure enough though, as soon as he hits the bottom of the stairs and turns right, heading into the darkened corner of+
the warehouse, a voice calls out from the gloom, “I told you last time not to come back, old man.”
There’s a sectioned off room near the corner.The door is open, and the blue-white lights of computer screens spills through the gap.
Dazai gasps, clutching his chest dramatically+
There’s a sectioned off room near the corner.The door is open, and the blue-white lights of computer screens spills through the gap.
Dazai gasps, clutching his chest dramatically+
as he keeps moving forward. “I did think about staying away. I did! But then I got to thinking— you must /miss/ me. So here I am, visiting.”
He shoves the door open the rest of the way, sauntering in easily.
Inside is a massive bank of computers, hemmed in by even bigger tanks+
He shoves the door open the rest of the way, sauntering in easily.
Inside is a massive bank of computers, hemmed in by even bigger tanks+
of freshwater aquariums, to help keep the temperature down.
And in the middle, surrounded by screens and a rigged iPad that somehow connects and controls all the machines in the room, glaring at him with that surly teenager look Dazai is getting /very/ used to (he sees it+
And in the middle, surrounded by screens and a rigged iPad that somehow connects and controls all the machines in the room, glaring at him with that surly teenager look Dazai is getting /very/ used to (he sees it+
every day in his house, lately) is /just/ the man Dazai is looking for.
“What do you want?”
“The same thing I always want, Rokozou,” Dazai sighs, collapsing onto the lone piece of furniture in the room, a cramped couch. He stretches his legs out as far as they will go, +
“What do you want?”
“The same thing I always want, Rokozou,” Dazai sighs, collapsing onto the lone piece of furniture in the room, a cramped couch. He stretches his legs out as far as they will go, +
crossed at the ankle. He laces his fingers together behind his head, smiling with all his teeth. “Information.”
Not many people know it, but Rokuzou Taguchi is /the/ best hacker on this side of Japan. Young, talented, and filled with that fearless recklessness all young people+
Not many people know it, but Rokuzou Taguchi is /the/ best hacker on this side of Japan. Young, talented, and filled with that fearless recklessness all young people+
have in spades.
Word on the streets is that he can hack into anything below government level clearance.
Dazai has it on personal authority that he can crack the firewalls of any government the kid puts his mind to.
He also has it on authority that Rokuzou will sell /any/+
Word on the streets is that he can hack into anything below government level clearance.
Dazai has it on personal authority that he can crack the firewalls of any government the kid puts his mind to.
He also has it on authority that Rokuzou will sell /any/+
data he can get his hands on—for the right price, of course.
In another life, he could’ve made a killer government agent,maybe a spy or something in security. But in this one... he makes deals with shady characters and hunts relentlessly for a piece of information even he can’t+
In another life, he could’ve made a killer government agent,maybe a spy or something in security. But in this one... he makes deals with shady characters and hunts relentlessly for a piece of information even he can’t+
seem to find.
All the better for Dazai, unfortunately. Rokuzou reminds him of his younger self, to be truthful, if he were born with a computer in his hand instead of a gun.
Rokuzou turns to him, interest gleaming in his eye. He taps a few times on his tablet before turning+
All the better for Dazai, unfortunately. Rokuzou reminds him of his younger self, to be truthful, if he were born with a computer in his hand instead of a gun.
Rokuzou turns to him, interest gleaming in his eye. He taps a few times on his tablet before turning+
completely to him, giving him his full attention. “What /kind/ of information?
Here’s the trick with negotiation: /never/ show your hand too quickly. Never let the other person know how badly you need or want what they have.
Build the deal in your favor. Make it seem like +
Here’s the trick with negotiation: /never/ show your hand too quickly. Never let the other person know how badly you need or want what they have.
Build the deal in your favor. Make it seem like +
you’re doing /them/ a favor by agreeing to a trade.
So instead of saying what /he/ wants—
He starts with something irresistible. “You know, when I was in France earlier this week, I heard the Americans talking. Rumors mostly, but they said some /very/ interesting names, so I+
So instead of saying what /he/ wants—
He starts with something irresistible. “You know, when I was in France earlier this week, I heard the Americans talking. Rumors mostly, but they said some /very/ interesting names, so I+
took the liberty of checking into it.”
He pauses there, letting the tension build for a moment. When Rokuzou’s eyes narrow, clearly demanding he go on, he continues slowly, “and imagine my surprise when I discovered that the Azure King and his Apostle recently signed a contract+
He pauses there, letting the tension build for a moment. When Rokuzou’s eyes narrow, clearly demanding he go on, he continues slowly, “and imagine my surprise when I discovered that the Azure King and his Apostle recently signed a contract+
with an American company.”
...That doesn’t mean Dazai doesn’t feel /bad/ for using Rokuzou’s weaknesses against him, because he does. The feverish manic focus that fills his eyes, and the way that /revenge/ has been his primary motivation for the last 3 years, ever since his +
...That doesn’t mean Dazai doesn’t feel /bad/ for using Rokuzou’s weaknesses against him, because he does. The feverish manic focus that fills his eyes, and the way that /revenge/ has been his primary motivation for the last 3 years, ever since his +
father died when he was 16, makes Dazai vaguely nauseous to look at.
There’s a part of him that wants to shake the kid, tell him to let go and move on because his dad wouldn’t have wanted him to live like /this/, perpetually on the run and selling scraps of info to murderers.+
There’s a part of him that wants to shake the kid, tell him to let go and move on because his dad wouldn’t have wanted him to live like /this/, perpetually on the run and selling scraps of info to murderers.+
But he’s not Dazai’s responsibility. He’s a grown man now, able to make his own decisions, and even if Dazai did try to step in—
Rokuzou wouldn’t listen.
The best thing Dazai can do for him is help him when he can, and hope that’ll be enough some day.
He fishes a small USB+
Rokuzou wouldn’t listen.
The best thing Dazai can do for him is help him when he can, and hope that’ll be enough some day.
He fishes a small USB+
out of his pocket, showing it to Rokuzou. “I am willing to give this to you. Names, dates, companies, numbers, everything I could dig up, and probably more than a few clues on where to keep digging.”
Hazel eyes lock onto the USB with all the intensity of a starving dog. “In +
Hazel eyes lock onto the USB with all the intensity of a starving dog. “In +
exchange for what?”
“All movement of the Rats in the House of the Dead for the past two weeks.”
Rokuzou’s eyebrows shoot up, incredulous. It’s a big request, Dazai knows, but he’s banking on how much Rokuzou is willing to give up for the information on the Azure King.+
“All movement of the Rats in the House of the Dead for the past two weeks.”
Rokuzou’s eyebrows shoot up, incredulous. It’s a big request, Dazai knows, but he’s banking on how much Rokuzou is willing to give up for the information on the Azure King.+
His gaze shifts from the USB drive to Dazai and back again, quickly calculating. “Aren’t you like... friends with their leader? Why don’t you ask him?”
Dazai grimaces. ‘Friends’ is a /strong/ word. More like unlikely and unwilling acquaintances that have been in the business so+
Dazai grimaces. ‘Friends’ is a /strong/ word. More like unlikely and unwilling acquaintances that have been in the business so+
long that sometimes there’s no choice but to sit down and share a few glasses of whiskey while reminiscing over all the times they tried to kill eachother. Such is his long, loving and intimate relationship with one Fyodor Dostoevsky. “Do you really think he’s just going to +
/tell/ me?”
Rokuzou shifts from foot to foot, and it’s clear that it just occurred to him how stupid the question sounded. “...have you tried asking nicely?”
Dazai stares him down, eyes sharp and piercing, until he can see the tension begin to build. Then he smiles, slow and+
Rokuzou shifts from foot to foot, and it’s clear that it just occurred to him how stupid the question sounded. “...have you tried asking nicely?”
Dazai stares him down, eyes sharp and piercing, until he can see the tension begin to build. Then he smiles, slow and+
mean, all sharp teeth and sharper intentions. Leaning forward, he props his elbows up on his knees, leaning his chin on his hands. “Tell you what, Rokuzou,” he drawls, letting his voice drop in something deeper, more dangerous. “I think you should take the deal— or I’ll start+
/you/ nicely.”
And based on his posture, the subtle glint of knives under his leather jacket, the way his eyes are focused laser-sharp, a predator on the hunt—
‘Nicely’ would not be the correct term.
Rokuzou gulps, taking back a step. Dazai’s never /hurt/ him, or even tried+
And based on his posture, the subtle glint of knives under his leather jacket, the way his eyes are focused laser-sharp, a predator on the hunt—
‘Nicely’ would not be the correct term.
Rokuzou gulps, taking back a step. Dazai’s never /hurt/ him, or even tried+
to— not like some of his /other/ customers, who seem to think that they can get more information out of him with their fists—
But Rokuzou /knows/ Dazai’s reputation. Practically grew up on it, horror stories that his parents told him to keep him away from dark alleyways and +
But Rokuzou /knows/ Dazai’s reputation. Practically grew up on it, horror stories that his parents told him to keep him away from dark alleyways and +
strangers on the street.
He even looked into the stories when he was older, and they’re /all/ true.
The man sitting on his couch —ass on the pillow Rokuzou sleeps on for fucks sake— might not be the /same/ man he heard stories about, but there’s the unspoken knowledge that+
He even looked into the stories when he was older, and they’re /all/ true.
The man sitting on his couch —ass on the pillow Rokuzou sleeps on for fucks sake— might not be the /same/ man he heard stories about, but there’s the unspoken knowledge that+
if Dazai wanted him to disappear?
There’s no one on this planet that would be able to find him again.
“Fine,” he grumbles, bringing his tablet back up. “It’ll take a minute.”
A few minutes, actually, to compile all the data onto a disc, but Dazai’s never complained about a+
There’s no one on this planet that would be able to find him again.
“Fine,” he grumbles, bringing his tablet back up. “It’ll take a minute.”
A few minutes, actually, to compile all the data onto a disc, but Dazai’s never complained about a+
wait before.
He doesn’t now either. “Great!” He says, all that dangerous energy melting away like it never existed. Leaning back again, he pulls out his phone, waking the device with a few touches. “You eaten yet today?”
Rokuzou’s always been thin, but now his wrists and+
He doesn’t now either. “Great!” He says, all that dangerous energy melting away like it never existed. Leaning back again, he pulls out his phone, waking the device with a few touches. “You eaten yet today?”
Rokuzou’s always been thin, but now his wrists and+
cheekbones stick out harshly enough that Dazai’s stomach aches in sympathy.
Rokuzou throws him an incredulous look, wondering why the hell that matters.
Dazai takes that as a no, opening up his food delivery app. “You thinking ramen or Tonkatsu? There’s a restaurant nearby—“+
Rokuzou throws him an incredulous look, wondering why the hell that matters.
Dazai takes that as a no, opening up his food delivery app. “You thinking ramen or Tonkatsu? There’s a restaurant nearby—“+
Rokuzou rolls his eyes. “Neither, actually—.”
“Ramen it is,” Dazai hums, placing a quick order. He doesn’t know what he likes anyways, so he keeps it simple.
“You’re not my dad—“
The silence that falls between them after that is heavy and awkward. Clearly, Rokuzou didn’t +
“Ramen it is,” Dazai hums, placing a quick order. He doesn’t know what he likes anyways, so he keeps it simple.
“You’re not my dad—“
The silence that falls between them after that is heavy and awkward. Clearly, Rokuzou didn’t +
mean to say that, because he’s biting his lip harshly and looking intensely at his tablet.
He’s right though, Dazai isn’t. He doesn’t want to be, either, and he doesn’t want to fix him either. No one can fix what happened.
He sighs, choosing instead to change the subject +
He’s right though, Dazai isn’t. He doesn’t want to be, either, and he doesn’t want to fix him either. No one can fix what happened.
He sighs, choosing instead to change the subject +
to something else. "Is that detective you work with still hooked on finding me?"
Some of the computer screens change color, turning white as Rokuzou accesses his files. He snorts, "Kunikida? Oh yeah. The other day, he even offered me a deal to turn you in."
Dazai sits up +
Some of the computer screens change color, turning white as Rokuzou accesses his files. He snorts, "Kunikida? Oh yeah. The other day, he even offered me a deal to turn you in."
Dazai sits up +
straighter, interested. Kunikida is a very good detective, he has to admit, but he has one fatal flaw:he /always/ plays by the rules.
In a job where your goal is to catch the most elusive, hardened criminals,that alone can be your downfall.
"Oh? What'd he offer you?"
Plugging+
In a job where your goal is to catch the most elusive, hardened criminals,that alone can be your downfall.
"Oh? What'd he offer you?"
Plugging+
in a USB into the port on one of his computers, Rokuzou snickers. "He offered to wipe out my entire criminal record."
Arching an eyebrow, Dazai says, "All of it?"
There's a pause before the kid is throwing a smug smirk over his shoulder at him. "No, not all of it. Only the +
Arching an eyebrow, Dazai says, "All of it?"
There's a pause before the kid is throwing a smug smirk over his shoulder at him. "No, not all of it. Only the +
things he knows about."
/That/ makes Dazai laugh, inexplicably fond.
By the time Rokuzou is done downloading all the information, the food has arrived. Dazai makes the trip outside to get it, passing the delivery driver a hefty tip and a stern look to keep him from talking +
/That/ makes Dazai laugh, inexplicably fond.
By the time Rokuzou is done downloading all the information, the food has arrived. Dazai makes the trip outside to get it, passing the delivery driver a hefty tip and a stern look to keep him from talking +
about the strange delivery to the outskirts of the warehouse district.
Rokuzou tosses him the USB when he comes back in, and only Dazai's quick reflexes keep it from smashing on the ground. He pockets it, leaving the food and his USB on the small table.
"Eat," he says sternly,+
Rokuzou tosses him the USB when he comes back in, and only Dazai's quick reflexes keep it from smashing on the ground. He pockets it, leaving the food and his USB on the small table.
"Eat," he says sternly,+
pointing at the kid to show how serious he is.
Rokuzou rolls his eyes again, starting up another program on his computers. "Or what, old man?"
Dazai pretends to think about it, tapping his chin with a finger. He /was/ going to use this as another bargaining chip but--
He +
Rokuzou rolls his eyes again, starting up another program on his computers. "Or what, old man?"
Dazai pretends to think about it, tapping his chin with a finger. He /was/ going to use this as another bargaining chip but--
He +
supposes this is good enough for him. "Or I won't tell you the encryption code on that USB."
For a second, Dazai is convinced Rokuzou is about to throw his iPad at him with how quickly he turns to glare at him. Raising his hands in the air peacefully, he grins and backs up to +
For a second, Dazai is convinced Rokuzou is about to throw his iPad at him with how quickly he turns to glare at him. Raising his hands in the air peacefully, he grins and backs up to +
the door. "It's programmed to wipe all data after three incorrect attempts~!"
"You FUCKER--"
Dazai /does/ have to dodge an empty coffee cop that's thrown at his head, but considering it's made out of styrofoam, it feels rather anticlimactic as it floats to the floor.
Knowing+
"You FUCKER--"
Dazai /does/ have to dodge an empty coffee cop that's thrown at his head, but considering it's made out of styrofoam, it feels rather anticlimactic as it floats to the floor.
Knowing+
Rokuzou won't chase him out of the warehouse in broad daylight--he was a stupid kid, got himself on the news quite a few times, and erasing one's criminal record from the national debate is not as easy as it sounds-- Dazai takes his time ascending the stairs and making his way +
back to his bike.
He still has a few errands to run; mostly menial tasks, like getting himself a new burner phone,transferring the contents of the USB Rokuzou gave him onto a new one (he /likes/ the kid, but he doesn't trust him), buying new bandages and foundation because his+
He still has a few errands to run; mostly menial tasks, like getting himself a new burner phone,transferring the contents of the USB Rokuzou gave him onto a new one (he /likes/ the kid, but he doesn't trust him), buying new bandages and foundation because his+
supply is running low.
Then it's back home, to analyze the information and make a plan from there. And put Shuuji back into his place.
When he's getting a coffee, a brand new disposable phone shoved into one of his many pockets, he receives a text on the old phone.
[UNKNOWN|:+
Then it's back home, to analyze the information and make a plan from there. And put Shuuji back into his place.
When he's getting a coffee, a brand new disposable phone shoved into one of his many pockets, he receives a text on the old phone.
[UNKNOWN|:+
jpeg attached.
[UNKNOWN]: there u fckn go gimme the pass
It's a picture of a mostly empty ramen bowl, complete with a middle finger centered directly in view.
Dazai smiles, sending him the code without further hesitation. A deal's a deal.
A few seconds later, another text +
[UNKNOWN]: there u fckn go gimme the pass
It's a picture of a mostly empty ramen bowl, complete with a middle finger centered directly in view.
Dazai smiles, sending him the code without further hesitation. A deal's a deal.
A few seconds later, another text +
comes in.
[UNKNOWN]: thx. i hate u
[DAZAI]: :( <3
Glancing around subtly to make sure no one is watching him too closely, Dazai removes the SD card and superstitiously slips it into his coffee cup after taking one more sip. The liquid will short out the card and hopefully+
[UNKNOWN]: thx. i hate u
[DAZAI]: :( <3
Glancing around subtly to make sure no one is watching him too closely, Dazai removes the SD card and superstitiously slips it into his coffee cup after taking one more sip. The liquid will short out the card and hopefully+
make it impossible for it to be tracked.
He throws out the cup in a nearby trash can, tossing his old phone under the tires of a passing car. He watches it crunch into a hundred shattered pieces with satisfaction.
Then there's nothing left to do but to go home, because he+
He throws out the cup in a nearby trash can, tossing his old phone under the tires of a passing car. He watches it crunch into a hundred shattered pieces with satisfaction.
Then there's nothing left to do but to go home, because he+
already stopped by the supermarket for his other things. They're stuffed in the secret compartment underneath the seat of his motorcycle, practically the only spot where he can store things on his bike.
It's late enough that the streets and sidewalks are packed with all the+
It's late enough that the streets and sidewalks are packed with all the+
people just getting off work. Traffic is at a near-standstill and he's sure the train stations are overflowing.
There is /some/ good in his son stealing his car then, because the driving time is cut nearly in half when he swerves between the stopped cars,steadily making his way+
There is /some/ good in his son stealing his car then, because the driving time is cut nearly in half when he swerves between the stopped cars,steadily making his way+
back home.
Of course,once he hits the residential area, the streets open up, and /maybe/ he shouldn't gun the engine, roaring through the normally quiet neighborhood insanely fast, but it's been a few /long/ weeks, and he needs stress relief.
The danger behind skidding around+
Of course,once he hits the residential area, the streets open up, and /maybe/ he shouldn't gun the engine, roaring through the normally quiet neighborhood insanely fast, but it's been a few /long/ weeks, and he needs stress relief.
The danger behind skidding around+
a corner, having to lean his entire body into it so he doesn't lose control, adrenaline pumping through him like liquid energy--
It makes him feel /alive/ again.
When he gets home--too quickly, his mind whispers, itching to keep going, to keep /driving/-- the garage door is+
It makes him feel /alive/ again.
When he gets home--too quickly, his mind whispers, itching to keep going, to keep /driving/-- the garage door is+
already open.
His car is parked inside, which is great,except it's parked crookedly, close enough that he /barely/ has enough room to get his motorcycle in, and he /left the garage door open/, for god knows how long.
It's like Shuuji's /asking/ to get Dazai's stuff stolen, or+
His car is parked inside, which is great,except it's parked crookedly, close enough that he /barely/ has enough room to get his motorcycle in, and he /left the garage door open/, for god knows how long.
It's like Shuuji's /asking/ to get Dazai's stuff stolen, or+
for someone to notice that Dazai is /not/ like the other people that live in this area.
Granted, he hasn't /told/ Shuuji about his 'job', for many reasons, but he's starting to think that's a mistake, because his son is so absentminded and reckless that he swears it's going to +
Granted, he hasn't /told/ Shuuji about his 'job', for many reasons, but he's starting to think that's a mistake, because his son is so absentminded and reckless that he swears it's going to +
get /him/ caught.
And if some stupid mistake like this gets him caught, when Dazai has been extra careful and evading notice for over /30/ years, he's going to--
Well, he doesn't know what he's going to do, but he's going to be /pissed/.
Heaving an irritated sigh, he parks+
And if some stupid mistake like this gets him caught, when Dazai has been extra careful and evading notice for over /30/ years, he's going to--
Well, he doesn't know what he's going to do, but he's going to be /pissed/.
Heaving an irritated sigh, he parks+
the motorcycle outside, because he's going to have to fix the parking of his car /anyways/ before he can fit them both in the garage without damaging them.
He expects the keys to be on the rack, where they usually are, Shuuji's way of pretending that nothing happened,but they+
He expects the keys to be on the rack, where they usually are, Shuuji's way of pretending that nothing happened,but they+
aren't.
Frustration spikes. Shuuji has only been living with him for the past four months,but /somehow/ he's already exhausted Dazai's admittedly deep well of patience.
Every day he promises himself to be more understanding and patient, but then Shuuji does things like /this/+
Frustration spikes. Shuuji has only been living with him for the past four months,but /somehow/ he's already exhausted Dazai's admittedly deep well of patience.
Every day he promises himself to be more understanding and patient, but then Shuuji does things like /this/+
it just--
It just sends him through the /roof/, because god/damn/ he doesn't have that many expectations or rules, but Shuuji seems /determined/ to ruin every carefully built and maintained aspect of Dazai's life.
He throws open the garage door, stalking inside. The dogs don't+
It just sends him through the /roof/, because god/damn/ he doesn't have that many expectations or rules, but Shuuji seems /determined/ to ruin every carefully built and maintained aspect of Dazai's life.
He throws open the garage door, stalking inside. The dogs don't+
greet him, which means that Shuuji /probably/ shoved them inside their kennels, which defeats the whole /point/ of guard dogs.
He takes the stairs two at a time, storming up quickly, and he /hopes/ his heavy footsteps give Shuuji a jolt of fear and anxiety.
Shuuji's door is+
He takes the stairs two at a time, storming up quickly, and he /hopes/ his heavy footsteps give Shuuji a jolt of fear and anxiety.
Shuuji's door is+
closed, like it usually is. Normally,it doesn't bother Dazai, because he understands the desire for privacy,but today it feels like he's /hiding/.
If it's locked, he swears he's going to kick the damn thing in.
It's not though. The knob gives under his hand when he throws open+
If it's locked, he swears he's going to kick the damn thing in.
It's not though. The knob gives under his hand when he throws open+
the door.
Shuuji is sitting at his desk, playing some inane video game. The voices of his teammates echo faintly from his headphones.
He flinches hard when the door is flung open, reaching up to pull one side of his headphones off his ear, shooting Dazai an affronted look.+
Shuuji is sitting at his desk, playing some inane video game. The voices of his teammates echo faintly from his headphones.
He flinches hard when the door is flung open, reaching up to pull one side of his headphones off his ear, shooting Dazai an affronted look.+
“What the hell, Dad? Haven’t you heard of knocking?”
He /tries/ to keep most of the anger out of his voice, but he fails. “Did you take my car today?”
“What? No?”
If Dazai were his younger self, or if Shuuji were /anyone/ else, he would’ve /shot/ him for daring to lie to his+
He /tries/ to keep most of the anger out of his voice, but he fails. “Did you take my car today?”
“What? No?”
If Dazai were his younger self, or if Shuuji were /anyone/ else, he would’ve /shot/ him for daring to lie to his+
face like that. /Especially/ when he didn’t even cover his tracks well. Does he think Dazai is an /idiot/?
Clenching his teeth so hard his jaw aches, Dazai growls, “don’t lie to me. I know you did. Where are my keys?”
Shuuji honestly looks like he’s going to continue the lie+
Clenching his teeth so hard his jaw aches, Dazai growls, “don’t lie to me. I know you did. Where are my keys?”
Shuuji honestly looks like he’s going to continue the lie+
for a moment, and Dazai is /this/ close to going over there and /throttling/ him—
But then he shifts in his seat as something happens on screen, and his expression sours. Sheepishly, he digs in his back pocket and pulls out Dazai’s keys.
He tosses them to Dazai in a gesture +
But then he shifts in his seat as something happens on screen, and his expression sours. Sheepishly, he digs in his back pocket and pulls out Dazai’s keys.
He tosses them to Dazai in a gesture +
that is /probably/ disrespectful,but Dazai is grateful for it, because if he gets within arm reach of Shuuji right now, he’s going to teach him a lesson in /respect/, mafia style—
He’s not that kind of person anymore, he reminds himself, hanging grimly onto the remaining shreds+
He’s not that kind of person anymore, he reminds himself, hanging grimly onto the remaining shreds+
of his self control.
“Why did you take it? That is literally /the/ only vehicle I said you couldn’t use.” Well, that and his motorcycle, but the last one was specifically tailored for Dazai’s height, and since Shuuji is over a head shorter than he is...
He probably can’t even+
“Why did you take it? That is literally /the/ only vehicle I said you couldn’t use.” Well, that and his motorcycle, but the last one was specifically tailored for Dazai’s height, and since Shuuji is over a head shorter than he is...
He probably can’t even+
get on the thing, to be truthful.
“You weren’t using it.”
Dazai grips the doorway so hard the wood groans under his fingers, threatening to break. He speaks slowly, enunciating each word like that might make his outrage more clear. “I was /out of the country/.”
Shuuji shrugs+
“You weren’t using it.”
Dazai grips the doorway so hard the wood groans under his fingers, threatening to break. He speaks slowly, enunciating each word like that might make his outrage more clear. “I was /out of the country/.”
Shuuji shrugs+
and Dazai is really starting to understand those parents who fly off the handle and destroy their kids devices. This whole time, Shuuji hasn’t even /looked/ at him, and he’s still smashing buttons on his controller, like Dazai is /interrupting/ him. “Besides, it’s the only cool +
car you have, so.”
(There’s a dark, violent part of Dazai, something he thought he buried long ago, that’s whispering that if Shuuji /won’t/ listen, then he can /make/ him. He was feared for a /very/ long time, still is for the most part, and it would not take /much/ to strike+
(There’s a dark, violent part of Dazai, something he thought he buried long ago, that’s whispering that if Shuuji /won’t/ listen, then he can /make/ him. He was feared for a /very/ long time, still is for the most part, and it would not take /much/ to strike+
the fear of /god/ into this insolent child.)
He slaps his hand against the door, hard enough to make Shuuji yelp in surprise, /finally/ turning to look at him.
Dazai smiles with no amusement, cold and lethal. “If you touch my car again, there /will/ be consequences.” +
He slaps his hand against the door, hard enough to make Shuuji yelp in surprise, /finally/ turning to look at him.
Dazai smiles with no amusement, cold and lethal. “If you touch my car again, there /will/ be consequences.” +
He leaves it at that, whirling around and stalking back down the hallway. Truth be told he’s not sure /what/ consequences there will be,because he’s still figuring out the line of discipline he’s allowed to dish out,but hopefully the threat is enough to deter Shuuji for a while.+
Because if he keeps testing Dazai’s patience, one day he’s going to /snap/. He was a /terror/ in his youth when he was angry, and even he’s slightly concerned about what he’d be like /now/, older, wiser, and much more /skilled/.
Heading back down to the garage, he decides to +
Heading back down to the garage, he decides to +
clean the car while he’s moving it around. It’s been overdue for a while, and he’s /sure/ Shuuji has dirtied it a bit anyways.
(He briefly imagines dragging Shuuji down here to clean it himself, but quickly decides against it. He doesn’t want to be close to him and his whining+
(He briefly imagines dragging Shuuji down here to clean it himself, but quickly decides against it. He doesn’t want to be close to him and his whining+
right now. Plus, he’d probably have to clean up after him anyways, because Shuuji’s cleaning /sucks/.
Dazai knows. He’s seen his room. He’s seen the same pair of dirty underwear wedged underneath his bed for the past 6 weeks.)
So, after parking the car /correctly/, he goes +
Dazai knows. He’s seen his room. He’s seen the same pair of dirty underwear wedged underneath his bed for the past 6 weeks.)
So, after parking the car /correctly/, he goes +
about taking all the weapons out, placing them in a half-circle carefully sorted by size.
He runs his fingers over them, carefully assessing them. They’re all clean, untouched, meticulously maintained by himself. Nothing worse than a jammed gun in the middle of a firefight.
+
He runs his fingers over them, carefully assessing them. They’re all clean, untouched, meticulously maintained by himself. Nothing worse than a jammed gun in the middle of a firefight.
+
Then he moves onto the interior. It’s surprisingly clean, with only a few pieces of trash that are easily thrown away. There’s a few crumbs that need to be vacuumed up and...
A wallet, wedged between the passenger seat and the door, halfway under the seat.
Dazai pulls it out,+
A wallet, wedged between the passenger seat and the door, halfway under the seat.
Dazai pulls it out,+
frowning. He doesn’t recognize the wallet at all.
Granted, he doesn’t know /everyone/ Shuji hangs out with, but the wallet doesn’t belong to any of the usual suspects. Yuan’s wallet is just as pink as her hair, and surprisingly thick despite the fact that she never seems to +
Granted, he doesn’t know /everyone/ Shuji hangs out with, but the wallet doesn’t belong to any of the usual suspects. Yuan’s wallet is just as pink as her hair, and surprisingly thick despite the fact that she never seems to +
carry anything she uses regularly.
He’s pretty sure Shirase doesn’t even /own/ a wallet and instead just shoves everything in his pockets and socks like the wild child he is.
Shuuji’s wallet is a lot newer and /nicer/ than this one.
So...who?
He flips it open, and the first+
He’s pretty sure Shirase doesn’t even /own/ a wallet and instead just shoves everything in his pockets and socks like the wild child he is.
Shuuji’s wallet is a lot newer and /nicer/ than this one.
So...who?
He flips it open, and the first+
thing he sees on the inside flap is a student ID.
NAME: NAKAHARA CHUUYA
STUDENT ID: A5158
MAJOR: ENGINEERING.
The picture is... unflattering, as all school photos are. A thick head of bright red hair, all pushed behind his ears to expose his forehead. He’s smiling, but it+
NAME: NAKAHARA CHUUYA
STUDENT ID: A5158
MAJOR: ENGINEERING.
The picture is... unflattering, as all school photos are. A thick head of bright red hair, all pushed behind his ears to expose his forehead. He’s smiling, but it+
looks more like a forced grimace. He’s wearing a red jacket that makes his blue eyes pop.
All in all, he looks like he was forced to take this picture but...
Dazai runs a finger over his face. He’s cute, in a young, naïve sort of way. And the way he’s almost-glaring at the+
All in all, he looks like he was forced to take this picture but...
Dazai runs a finger over his face. He’s cute, in a young, naïve sort of way. And the way he’s almost-glaring at the+
camera is endearing.
On the other side, half-hidden in one of the pockets, is a faded Polaroid. It’s a picture of a family, clearly taken a few years ago.
In it,one of the chubbiest and grumpiest toddlers Dazai has /ever/ seen is being held in the arms of who is presumably his+
On the other side, half-hidden in one of the pockets, is a faded Polaroid. It’s a picture of a family, clearly taken a few years ago.
In it,one of the chubbiest and grumpiest toddlers Dazai has /ever/ seen is being held in the arms of who is presumably his+
father. The toddler has a fistful of long dark hair, pulling harshly.
On either side are two girls, both looking /completely/ unaware of the toddler vs parent fight happening in the middle, grinning widely and showing off their Mickey Mouse ears.
A baby picture of Chuuya+
On either side are two girls, both looking /completely/ unaware of the toddler vs parent fight happening in the middle, grinning widely and showing off their Mickey Mouse ears.
A baby picture of Chuuya+
then, because that red hair and baby blue eyes are unmistakable even then, and his family.
Dazai’s lip twitches upward, amused. Cute little thing.
He folds up the wallet, shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. He’s always made a habit of meeting as many of Shuuji’s friends+
Dazai’s lip twitches upward, amused. Cute little thing.
He folds up the wallet, shoving it into the pocket of his jacket. He’s always made a habit of meeting as many of Shuuji’s friends+
as possible. His son is one bad influence away from ending up in the local jail, so he tries to head off any degenerates before they sink their teeth in.
As he finishes cleaning, he finds himself wondering:
What kind of person is Nakahara Chuuya? When will he meet him?+
As he finishes cleaning, he finds himself wondering:
What kind of person is Nakahara Chuuya? When will he meet him?+
———
The next afternoon, barely 2pm, sees Chuuya /frantic/.
He’s supposed to buy his books today, because he has assignments due on the first day of class (totally unfair, by the way).The good thing though is that, because of his scholarship, he doesn’t have to buy them himself.+
The next afternoon, barely 2pm, sees Chuuya /frantic/.
He’s supposed to buy his books today, because he has assignments due on the first day of class (totally unfair, by the way).The good thing though is that, because of his scholarship, he doesn’t have to buy them himself.+
All he needs is his school ID to prove that he’s, you know, himself, and boom, free books.
All he needs is his school ID. Which is in his wallet. The wallet that he /cannot/ find.
He’s looked everywhere! In his jacket, his jeans, under his bed, in his backpack, even in the+
All he needs is his school ID. Which is in his wallet. The wallet that he /cannot/ find.
He’s looked everywhere! In his jacket, his jeans, under his bed, in his backpack, even in the+
fucking lost and found. It’s nowhere to be found.
And unless a few thousand yen magically appears in his back pocket—
He can’t get his books anytime soon. It takes at /least/ 3 days to order a new school ID, and by /then/, he’ll already be behind—
His phone dings. An incoming+
And unless a few thousand yen magically appears in his back pocket—
He can’t get his books anytime soon. It takes at /least/ 3 days to order a new school ID, and by /then/, he’ll already be behind—
His phone dings. An incoming+
text.
Chuuya checks it out of habit, just to make sure it’s not his dad or his sisters (who like to /text/ in emergencies, which has never and will never make sense to him.)
It’s Shuuji.
And then—
Then Chuuya realizes that there is /one/ place he hasn’t managed to look.+
Chuuya checks it out of habit, just to make sure it’s not his dad or his sisters (who like to /text/ in emergencies, which has never and will never make sense to him.)
It’s Shuuji.
And then—
Then Chuuya realizes that there is /one/ place he hasn’t managed to look.+
The /car/.
He scrambles to open the message, hope stirring in his chest. It has to be in the car. That’s the only place it /could/ be.
(Or on the train, his anxiety reminds him. In which case, he’s /screwed/.)
SHUUJI: wut r u wearing ? ;)
...What? It’s /two/ in the +
He scrambles to open the message, hope stirring in his chest. It has to be in the car. That’s the only place it /could/ be.
(Or on the train, his anxiety reminds him. In which case, he’s /screwed/.)
SHUUJI: wut r u wearing ? ;)
...What? It’s /two/ in the +
afternoon, what does he /think/ he’s wearing? A nightgown? A helicopter hat?
CHUUYA: jeans.
CHUUYA: hey, did you find a wallet in your car yesterday? I can’t find mine :(
The two minutes he spends waiting for a response is pure torture.
SHUUJI: no I didn’t see 1
+
CHUUYA: jeans.
CHUUYA: hey, did you find a wallet in your car yesterday? I can’t find mine :(
The two minutes he spends waiting for a response is pure torture.
SHUUJI: no I didn’t see 1
+
No, no, /please/ no—
Another text.
SHUUJI: but I can help u look in da car ;)
Does... does that mean he didn’t actually /look/ in the car? Is there still hope?
(There is /not/ hope for Chuuya’s brain cells, because he can feel them dying a slow death trying to read +
Another text.
SHUUJI: but I can help u look in da car ;)
Does... does that mean he didn’t actually /look/ in the car? Is there still hope?
(There is /not/ hope for Chuuya’s brain cells, because he can feel them dying a slow death trying to read +
Shuuji’s chat speak.)
CHUUYA: yes pls :( I really need it for school. I’d owe you a lot!! 🥺
SHUUJI: hehe ya. I’ll cum pick u up soon
Oh thank /god/, and every single of one of his ugly little angels.
CHUUYA: thank you! You’re the best
SHUUJI: ik
Because he has nothing+
CHUUYA: yes pls :( I really need it for school. I’d owe you a lot!! 🥺
SHUUJI: hehe ya. I’ll cum pick u up soon
Oh thank /god/, and every single of one of his ugly little angels.
CHUUYA: thank you! You’re the best
SHUUJI: ik
Because he has nothing+
to do except /wait/— he’s already done his registrations for class, and checked out the local Kendo club— he shoves his shoes on his feet and goes to wait outside on a bench.
Foot tapping anxiously, he starts up some stupid game on his phone and waits for a text.
Twenty +
Foot tapping anxiously, he starts up some stupid game on his phone and waits for a text.
Twenty +
minutes later, his game is interrupted by a text.
SHUUJI: I here where u
Chuuya looks around. He doesn’t see a car he recognizes and he doesn’t see Shuuji anywhere around.
CHUUYA: bench outside the dorms. Where are you?
SHUUJI: cum same place as last night
Okay, easy +
SHUUJI: I here where u
Chuuya looks around. He doesn’t see a car he recognizes and he doesn’t see Shuuji anywhere around.
CHUUYA: bench outside the dorms. Where are you?
SHUUJI: cum same place as last night
Okay, easy +
enough. That’s not far.
Chuuya jogs over, looking around for the car but—
He still doesn’t see it. He’s about to pull out his phone to text again, or to call, when the window rolls down on a nearby car.
Shuuji leans out, grinning smugly. “Miss me that much, darling?” +
Chuuya jogs over, looking around for the car but—
He still doesn’t see it. He’s about to pull out his phone to text again, or to call, when the window rolls down on a nearby car.
Shuuji leans out, grinning smugly. “Miss me that much, darling?” +
The car he’s driving today is still nice, shiny and relatively new, but it’s not /nearly/ the same quality as the car he was driving yesterday.
/That/ one was sleek, unique, obviously customized with a lot of money.
/This/ one looks like the car every moderately successful+
/That/ one was sleek, unique, obviously customized with a lot of money.
/This/ one looks like the car every moderately successful+
businessman in Japan owns.
But hey, who is Chuuya to judge? He certainly doesn’t have a car, and the family car back home was bought secondhand and is a few years old now.
He slides into the passenger seat, breathless. “Thanks for coming. I’m sorry to bother you like this.” +
But hey, who is Chuuya to judge? He certainly doesn’t have a car, and the family car back home was bought secondhand and is a few years old now.
He slides into the passenger seat, breathless. “Thanks for coming. I’m sorry to bother you like this.” +
Shuuji waves him off, cutting off another car as he swerves back into traffic. “You’ll make it up to me, darling.”
That sounds /slightly/ ominous, and the repeated nickname makes him feel a little /weird/,like he’s less of a person and more of a /thing/ but—
It’s probably just+
That sounds /slightly/ ominous, and the repeated nickname makes him feel a little /weird/,like he’s less of a person and more of a /thing/ but—
It’s probably just+
his residual anxiety and panic making things /weird/. This is /normal/, he’s just being weird.
Chuuya changes the subject. “Do you live far?”
Shuuji throws him a sly side glance, arrogance radiating off him. “Not that far. Don’t be too impatient, I’ll get you there as soon as+
Chuuya changes the subject. “Do you live far?”
Shuuji throws him a sly side glance, arrogance radiating off him. “Not that far. Don’t be too impatient, I’ll get you there as soon as+
I can.”
It’s not that Chuuya is /impatient/, he’s just worried. He only has until the end of the business day to get his books, and if his wallet /isn’t/ in Shuuji’s other car, then he has to submit his application for a new ID as soon as possible.
He only has three or four+
It’s not that Chuuya is /impatient/, he’s just worried. He only has until the end of the business day to get his books, and if his wallet /isn’t/ in Shuuji’s other car, then he has to submit his application for a new ID as soon as possible.
He only has three or four+
hours to figure the whole situation out.
But he pushes that feeling down, smiling slightly. He doesn’t want to seem ungrateful or rude or pushy—
He just needs his wallet, and Shuuji said he’ll help him out as fast as possible, so he just needs to calm down and /wait/. +
But he pushes that feeling down, smiling slightly. He doesn’t want to seem ungrateful or rude or pushy—
He just needs his wallet, and Shuuji said he’ll help him out as fast as possible, so he just needs to calm down and /wait/. +
“Did Nikolai or the others tell you anything about me? After I left?”
Chuuya frowns. “No? Yuan and Shirase left right after you did, and I just studied for the rest of the night.”
The last part isn’t true, but how is Chuuya supposed to tell him that he spent the night +
Chuuya frowns. “No? Yuan and Shirase left right after you did, and I just studied for the rest of the night.”
The last part isn’t true, but how is Chuuya supposed to tell him that he spent the night +
oscillating between a weird sense of violation and discomfort,and being embarrassed over his behavior?
Shuuji nods, and he takes a right turn at twice the speed he’s supposed to. “Okay, good.”
Chuuya grits his teeth,hanging onto the handle above the door with all his strength.+
Shuuji nods, and he takes a right turn at twice the speed he’s supposed to. “Okay, good.”
Chuuya grits his teeth,hanging onto the handle above the door with all his strength.+
He’s not one for carsickness, but his stomach rolls at every rough movement.
He hopes the ride is over soon. He’s already dreading the return drive.
Shuuji quickly climbs into the residential area, and once he’s on a mostly open road, he seems to take the speed limits and +
He hopes the ride is over soon. He’s already dreading the return drive.
Shuuji quickly climbs into the residential area, and once he’s on a mostly open road, he seems to take the speed limits and +
the warnings as /suggestions/.
Speed itself is fine, but Shuuji is swerving onto both sides of the road, checking his phone, barely breaking or moving over for a biker and Chuuya /really/ does not want to die in a car crash.
“Can you—,” god, he feels /so/ rude even saying +
Speed itself is fine, but Shuuji is swerving onto both sides of the road, checking his phone, barely breaking or moving over for a biker and Chuuya /really/ does not want to die in a car crash.
“Can you—,” god, he feels /so/ rude even saying +
this, “slow down, please?”
Shuuji laughs at him. “Aww, is the little baby scared?” He mocks, pressing harder on the gas.
Yeah, he is. /Terrified/.
Clearly god is looking down on them, because they arrive at Shuuji’s house unscathed and in one piece.
Barely waiting for the+
Shuuji laughs at him. “Aww, is the little baby scared?” He mocks, pressing harder on the gas.
Yeah, he is. /Terrified/.
Clearly god is looking down on them, because they arrive at Shuuji’s house unscathed and in one piece.
Barely waiting for the+
car to stop fully, Chuuya stumbles out. It’s only been another twenty minutes, but he feels like he should be kissing the ground in gratefulness.
He catches his breath for a second, soothing his racing heart, before looking up—
/Holy shit/.
The house is /huge/. Beautiful, +
He catches his breath for a second, soothing his racing heart, before looking up—
/Holy shit/.
The house is /huge/. Beautiful, +
with two stories and a long balcony lined with glass railing. It’s western style, with a long paved path leading to a large, single door.
The path even has tiny /torches/ lining it.
Obviously, Chuuya knew Shuuji came from money, but seeing the evidence again, it really hits +
The path even has tiny /torches/ lining it.
Obviously, Chuuya knew Shuuji came from money, but seeing the evidence again, it really hits +
again that—
Shuuji is completely and utterly out of his league. It feels like a /dream/ just to be standing here, on imported fucking gravel, in front of a massive house. It even has a /fenced yard/ in the back.
Shuuji rounds the car, looking smug as he takes in Chuuya’s +
Shuuji is completely and utterly out of his league. It feels like a /dream/ just to be standing here, on imported fucking gravel, in front of a massive house. It even has a /fenced yard/ in the back.
Shuuji rounds the car, looking smug as he takes in Chuuya’s +
reaction. “Come on, darling. The car is in the garage.”
He leads the way up the pathway, and Chuuya stumbles behind him, feeling /dirty/ in his thrifted shoes.
“Give me a second,” Shuuji says, reaching for the door handle, “the dogs are loose, and they’re /crazy/. I’ll just +
He leads the way up the pathway, and Chuuya stumbles behind him, feeling /dirty/ in his thrifted shoes.
“Give me a second,” Shuuji says, reaching for the door handle, “the dogs are loose, and they’re /crazy/. I’ll just +
put them away and then come back to get you—“
Then he opens the door, widely, /not/ like someone who’s worried about his crazy dogs, and—
Out come bounding two /giant/ fluff balls, fur standing on end.
Shuuji backpedals rapidly, stammering, “hey! No! Bad dog!”
Chuuya is +
Then he opens the door, widely, /not/ like someone who’s worried about his crazy dogs, and—
Out come bounding two /giant/ fluff balls, fur standing on end.
Shuuji backpedals rapidly, stammering, “hey! No! Bad dog!”
Chuuya is +
frozen in place, locked in a staring contest with the /biggest/ dog Chuuya has ever seen.
Big, fluffy, with clearly defined muscles under its brown and white fur. A long tail curling over it’s back, and a truly intimidating set of teeth.
Does he run? No, that sounds like +
Big, fluffy, with clearly defined muscles under its brown and white fur. A long tail curling over it’s back, and a truly intimidating set of teeth.
Does he run? No, that sounds like +
he’ll get chased.
Does he move forward? No, that sounds /aggressive./
His father told him to scare any dogs that tried to attack him off but, this dog looks like it could take down a /bear/. It’s /half/ as tall as Chuuya is!
Not knowing what to do, Chuuya stands his ground +
Does he move forward? No, that sounds /aggressive./
His father told him to scare any dogs that tried to attack him off but, this dog looks like it could take down a /bear/. It’s /half/ as tall as Chuuya is!
Not knowing what to do, Chuuya stands his ground +
shakily, meekly offering the back of his hand for the dog to sniff—
The dog, hackles raised, stalks forward fo smell him.
Chuuya is mentally preparing himself for a life without his fingers, or maybe his entire hand when—
The dog, satisfied, /licks/ his hand. +
The dog, hackles raised, stalks forward fo smell him.
Chuuya is mentally preparing himself for a life without his fingers, or maybe his entire hand when—
The dog, satisfied, /licks/ his hand. +
Warm fur is suddenly under his hand as the dog pushes forward, seemingly impatient with Chuuya’s lack of petting.
His fingers flex automatically, scratching at the soft dark ears. The dog seems to /like/ that, pushing forward for more, so heavily that Chuuya has to stumble back+
His fingers flex automatically, scratching at the soft dark ears. The dog seems to /like/ that, pushing forward for more, so heavily that Chuuya has to stumble back+
to keep his balance.
The other dog, this one more of a sandy brown, comes up to see what all the commotion is about. Chuuya is less hesitant with that one, calmly offering his hand—
And nearly gets /bowled/ over when the dog enthusiastically jumps at him, demanding pets.+
The other dog, this one more of a sandy brown, comes up to see what all the commotion is about. Chuuya is less hesitant with that one, calmly offering his hand—
And nearly gets /bowled/ over when the dog enthusiastically jumps at him, demanding pets.+
Chuuya ends up crouched, one hand on each dog, frantically trying to satisfy them as they present him with more scratching spots. Their ears, their fluffy butts,and In the sandy one’s case—their soft warm bellies.
“Aww,” Chuuya coos,squishing the face of the larger one, “you’re+
“Aww,” Chuuya coos,squishing the face of the larger one, “you’re+
not crazy. You’re /cute/.”
The dog lets him, tongue lolling out of its mouth and looking absolutely /blissful/ at all the attention.
There’s a dark leather collar around it’s neck, and Chuuya reaches for the charm hanging from it.
‘KOZO’ it reads, in engraved letters.+
The dog lets him, tongue lolling out of its mouth and looking absolutely /blissful/ at all the attention.
There’s a dark leather collar around it’s neck, and Chuuya reaches for the charm hanging from it.
‘KOZO’ it reads, in engraved letters.+
“Nice to meet you, Kozo,” Chuuya murmurs, giving him a nice scratch on his ear. His tail thumps loudly behind him.
“And you?” He reaches for the collar on the other dog, a pink studded one. The dog lets him, lifting it’s legs so Chuuya can scratch at it’s chest.
‘YOKO’ is this+
“And you?” He reaches for the collar on the other dog, a pink studded one. The dog lets him, lifting it’s legs so Chuuya can scratch at it’s chest.
‘YOKO’ is this+
one’s name.
“You’re very cute,” Chuuya informs her, scratching at just the /right/ spot to make her back leg kick wildly at the air.
He’s never been around a lot of animals, but they’ve always liked him. It makes pride and happiness swell in his chest that the ‘crazy dogs’+
“You’re very cute,” Chuuya informs her, scratching at just the /right/ spot to make her back leg kick wildly at the air.
He’s never been around a lot of animals, but they’ve always liked him. It makes pride and happiness swell in his chest that the ‘crazy dogs’+
like him enough to show him their bellies.
And they’re so /nice/ to pet, plush and soft like a living teddy bear and Chuuya wants to take them /home/.
For a moment, he wonders what the hell Shuuji was talking about because the dogs are /not/ crazy. Overenthusiastic, maybe, +
And they’re so /nice/ to pet, plush and soft like a living teddy bear and Chuuya wants to take them /home/.
For a moment, he wonders what the hell Shuuji was talking about because the dogs are /not/ crazy. Overenthusiastic, maybe, +
and overenergetic.
But crazy? No.
Until—
Shuuji creeps closer again, and suddenly Yoko is flipping over onto her belly, her happy panting devolving into a low, rumbling growl.
It’s not /aggressive/ per se, and she doesn’t move to get up but it’s clearly a /warning./+
But crazy? No.
Until—
Shuuji creeps closer again, and suddenly Yoko is flipping over onto her belly, her happy panting devolving into a low, rumbling growl.
It’s not /aggressive/ per se, and she doesn’t move to get up but it’s clearly a /warning./+
Shuuji snarls at them, kicking at the air. “Stupid fucking dogs—.”
Chuuya opens his mouth to tell him that they’re /not/ stupid, they’re just /dogs—
But then a voice from the house, smooth and low and dripping like melted caramel over every one of Chuuya’s senses speaks up. +
Chuuya opens his mouth to tell him that they’re /not/ stupid, they’re just /dogs—
But then a voice from the house, smooth and low and dripping like melted caramel over every one of Chuuya’s senses speaks up. +
"/They're/ not stupid," it says, with just a hint of a condescending undertone.
Chuuya looks up, curious at who /else/ is here, because Shuuji hasn't mentioned anyone else--
And his world screeches to a halt.
All those /oh/ moments you hear about? Overexaggerated. Overstated.+
Chuuya looks up, curious at who /else/ is here, because Shuuji hasn't mentioned anyone else--
And his world screeches to a halt.
All those /oh/ moments you hear about? Overexaggerated. Overstated.+
Pale imitations of the /real/ moment that Chuuya is experiencing right now:
/Oh. My. God./
His first impression is tall, /so/ fucking tall, he takes up the entire doorway, all broad shoulders and deliciously thick thighs under a dark pair of jeans.
His second impression, and +
/Oh. My. God./
His first impression is tall, /so/ fucking tall, he takes up the entire doorway, all broad shoulders and deliciously thick thighs under a dark pair of jeans.
His second impression, and +
this is the one that will /haunt/ him later, for all of his sleepless nights to come, are his /eyes/.
Big, line with thick lashes, and /god/ the way the light hits them makes them look like liquid sunlight, warm and honeyed--
And fixed on him, with the sort of steady +
Big, line with thick lashes, and /god/ the way the light hits them makes them look like liquid sunlight, warm and honeyed--
And fixed on him, with the sort of steady +
relentless that makes Chuuya shiver.
And while he couldn't seem to look at Shuuji earlier, when they met,now he can't seem to look /away/.
He feels like he's being sucked in,magnetized, helpless to resist the leather jacket, the dark hair.
Who is he?
(Is he single, Chuuya's+
And while he couldn't seem to look at Shuuji earlier, when they met,now he can't seem to look /away/.
He feels like he's being sucked in,magnetized, helpless to resist the leather jacket, the dark hair.
Who is he?
(Is he single, Chuuya's+
addled mind helpfully contributes.)
"Oh. I didn't know you were home, dad."
/Dad/. Not 'brother', or 'uncle',or even 'stranger in my home that I do not know'.
(Chuuya is a firm believer that /some/ crimes can be forgiven,when they look like /that/.)
But /dad/. As in father.+
"Oh. I didn't know you were home, dad."
/Dad/. Not 'brother', or 'uncle',or even 'stranger in my home that I do not know'.
(Chuuya is a firm believer that /some/ crimes can be forgiven,when they look like /that/.)
But /dad/. As in father.+
As in...way older than Chuuya.
...Did Shuuji ever mention his mother? Chuuya doesn't remember.
Then he speaks again, and Chuuya feels like his /heart/ is throbbing in time with his voice. "I was just heading out. Who is this?"
Even though he's speaking to Shuuji, he doesn't+
...Did Shuuji ever mention his mother? Chuuya doesn't remember.
Then he speaks again, and Chuuya feels like his /heart/ is throbbing in time with his voice. "I was just heading out. Who is this?"
Even though he's speaking to Shuuji, he doesn't+
look away from Chuuya from even a second, examining closely the way his hands are still buried in the dogs fur and scratching.
Part of Chuuya feels pinned by that gaze, like prey within pouncing range of a predator. The /other/ part of him is preening under it, tilting his chin+
Part of Chuuya feels pinned by that gaze, like prey within pouncing range of a predator. The /other/ part of him is preening under it, tilting his chin+
to look at him better, knowing that his eyes look /extra/ blue from this angle.
"Dad, Nakahara Chuuya. Chuuya, Dazai Osamu."
The slow smile that grows on Dazai's face is like watching the sun rise over the mountains, transforming the sharp lines of his face into something +
"Dad, Nakahara Chuuya. Chuuya, Dazai Osamu."
The slow smile that grows on Dazai's face is like watching the sun rise over the mountains, transforming the sharp lines of his face into something +
softer, sweeter, younger.
He doesn't /look/ old, of course,but his smile is boyish, mischievous, the sort of thing you see in your dreams or on TV shows. Like he knows something you don't know, and Chuuya /wants/ to know.
Wants to know /everything/.
"Ah. I was wondering when+
He doesn't /look/ old, of course,but his smile is boyish, mischievous, the sort of thing you see in your dreams or on TV shows. Like he knows something you don't know, and Chuuya /wants/ to know.
Wants to know /everything/.
"Ah. I was wondering when+
I'd meet you."
Chuuya grips Kozo's neck to keep himself from doing anything embarrassingt,like swooning.He was /waiting/? To meet /him/?
...He should've brushed his teeth before he left the dorms. And his hair.Hell, he should've thrown on makeup and a whole new outfit, because+
Chuuya grips Kozo's neck to keep himself from doing anything embarrassingt,like swooning.He was /waiting/? To meet /him/?
...He should've brushed his teeth before he left the dorms. And his hair.Hell, he should've thrown on makeup and a whole new outfit, because+
his clothes are /not/ what he would've wanted to be wearing to meet... him.
He clears his throat, fighting to keep his voice controlled. "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I'm here because I--."
"Forgot something?" Dazai finishes, eyebrow arching. When he sees Chuuya's confused +
He clears his throat, fighting to keep his voice controlled. "Hello, it's nice to meet you. I'm here because I--."
"Forgot something?" Dazai finishes, eyebrow arching. When he sees Chuuya's confused +
look, he reaches for his back pocket.
His shirt, a dark blue, stretches across his chest as he does, briefly outlining what are /deliciously/ defined pectoral muscles and what /might/ be a hint of abs.
(That might be just Chuuya's horny brain taking the information he's been +
His shirt, a dark blue, stretches across his chest as he does, briefly outlining what are /deliciously/ defined pectoral muscles and what /might/ be a hint of abs.
(That might be just Chuuya's horny brain taking the information he's been +
given and /running/ with it, because there's nothing more than Chuuya wants than to meet those abs up close and personal now--.)
Dazai pulls out something small and black, waving it at him.
His /wallet/.
Relief fills him so quickly that he nearly staggers with it. All of his+
Dazai pulls out something small and black, waving it at him.
His /wallet/.
Relief fills him so quickly that he nearly staggers with it. All of his+
problems are solved. His wallet has been hand delivered to him by the most gorgeous person he has ever seen.
Everything is right in the world.
"Thank you! That's mine," he says, standing up.Kozo noses at his hands for more pets, but he pushes him away for now.
"I know it is."+
Everything is right in the world.
"Thank you! That's mine," he says, standing up.Kozo noses at his hands for more pets, but he pushes him away for now.
"I know it is."+
Dazai responds, sounding amused. He holds out the wallet, offering it to him.
Part of him is expecting Dazai to crowd him passive-aggressively, getting up in his space with little regard to boundaries. Shuuji has been chasing Chuuya hard, almost like he's /hunting/ him, and +
Part of him is expecting Dazai to crowd him passive-aggressively, getting up in his space with little regard to boundaries. Shuuji has been chasing Chuuya hard, almost like he's /hunting/ him, and +
it wouldn't be surprising if Dazai was like that too.
Not that Chuuya would mind having /him/ in his personal space, but there's something inherently intimidating and discomforting about being pushed like that.
But he doesn't. No, he just stands there, offering the wallet +
Not that Chuuya would mind having /him/ in his personal space, but there's something inherently intimidating and discomforting about being pushed like that.
But he doesn't. No, he just stands there, offering the wallet +
silently.
Letting Chuuya come to him.
Something about that, the way he's not being /pressured/, makes Chuuya /want/ to step out of his comfort zone, walking up to Dazai like it's nothing.
Dazai watches him, and at the /last/ second, when Chuuya is reaching for his wallet, he+
Letting Chuuya come to him.
Something about that, the way he's not being /pressured/, makes Chuuya /want/ to step out of his comfort zone, walking up to Dazai like it's nothing.
Dazai watches him, and at the /last/ second, when Chuuya is reaching for his wallet, he+
flicks it up, just out of his reach.
"You should be careful with your things, doll. You never know what kind of...unsavory characters might find them," he purrs, and /this/ close,his voice is all encompassing, vibrating down Chuuya's spine and settling somewhere in his stomach.+
"You should be careful with your things, doll. You never know what kind of...unsavory characters might find them," he purrs, and /this/ close,his voice is all encompassing, vibrating down Chuuya's spine and settling somewhere in his stomach.+
If losing his wallet means he gets to see people like Dazai, he's going to attach a fishing lure to it next time.
He doesn't /say/ that, though, because he does have /some/ self-control and decency. He nods, doing his best to look sheepish. "Right. I will."
Dazai's eyes feel +
He doesn't /say/ that, though, because he does have /some/ self-control and decency. He nods, doing his best to look sheepish. "Right. I will."
Dazai's eyes feel +
burning brands on his skin, touching on his eyes, his /mouth/, his cheeks, which are starting to /burn/--
Is that the hint of a dimple in Dazai's growing smile? Not even two, but just /one/, on his leftside, /adorably/ lopsided, uneven but /so/ beautiful?
Seemingly satisfied,+
Is that the hint of a dimple in Dazai's growing smile? Not even two, but just /one/, on his leftside, /adorably/ lopsided, uneven but /so/ beautiful?
Seemingly satisfied,+
Dazai drops the wallet into his palm.
Curling his fingers around it, he uses the warm (warm from being in Dazai's /back pocket/, his mind is quick to remind him) leather to ground himself. "Thank you," he murmurs again, because he's not sure what else to /say/.
Not for the+
Curling his fingers around it, he uses the warm (warm from being in Dazai's /back pocket/, his mind is quick to remind him) leather to ground himself. "Thank you," he murmurs again, because he's not sure what else to /say/.
Not for the+
first time,he wishes he was like those suave, charming characters that he reads about. It makes him /mad/ that he ends up like this,but he doesn't know what to /say/ and his tongue is thick in his mouth.
He doesn't want to seem like some shy boy, or someone childish. Now, more+
He doesn't want to seem like some shy boy, or someone childish. Now, more+
than ever, he wants to seem...
He doesn't even /know/. Cool? Charming? Funny? Cute?
Definitely something /other/ than just Shuuji's friend he brought home.
"So polite," Dazai teases, fingers ghosting over Chuuya's wrist and drawing his attention.
His voice is approving, and
He doesn't even /know/. Cool? Charming? Funny? Cute?
Definitely something /other/ than just Shuuji's friend he brought home.
"So polite," Dazai teases, fingers ghosting over Chuuya's wrist and drawing his attention.
His voice is approving, and
filled with subtle pride.
That breaks through the knot of anxiety and self-consciousness beginning to curl in Chuuya's chest, just for a moment. He can't help the big smile, because the idea that Dazai /likes/ him, even a little bit, makes him feel so fucking happy and warm.+
That breaks through the knot of anxiety and self-consciousness beginning to curl in Chuuya's chest, just for a moment. He can't help the big smile, because the idea that Dazai /likes/ him, even a little bit, makes him feel so fucking happy and warm.+
His entire life has been filled with exceptionally high expectations, and as soon as he reaches /one/, there's always another goal set in front of him. An endless parade of exhaustion, always striving to reach higher and farther, until eventually he gets to a point he can't /do/+
it anymore, and he inevitably fails, or cracks under the pressure.
There's always something /more/ expected of him.
But here, now?
All he had to do was say thank you,and Dazai is smiling at him like he just aced the quiz.
Maybe he's reading too much into it. He probably /is/+
There's always something /more/ expected of him.
But here, now?
All he had to do was say thank you,and Dazai is smiling at him like he just aced the quiz.
Maybe he's reading too much into it. He probably /is/+
but he's had a /confusing/ few days, and he's going to soak up whatever happiness he can get, wherever he can get it.
Naturally, that's the moment when the moment is broken.
"Can you put the dogs up before you go? They're being jerks again."
Unwittingly, Chuuya sighs heavily+
Naturally, that's the moment when the moment is broken.
"Can you put the dogs up before you go? They're being jerks again."
Unwittingly, Chuuya sighs heavily+
at Shuuji's interruption. To be truthful, he'd /mostly/ forgotten he was there...
Watching Chuuya flirt with his...dad.
Embarrassment and a strange sense of /guilt/ bursts over Chuuya,completely ruining whatever good thing he had going.
Shuuji is interested in him--he thinks,+
Watching Chuuya flirt with his...dad.
Embarrassment and a strange sense of /guilt/ bursts over Chuuya,completely ruining whatever good thing he had going.
Shuuji is interested in him--he thinks,+
at least--and it only took one look and conversation with his /dad/ for Chuuya to get distracted.
He doesn't even know if he /likes/ Shuuji, because he's overbearing but he is cute--or was, until Chuuya met Dazai-- but this feels like...
Betrayal. Or just plain /weird/ because+
He doesn't even know if he /likes/ Shuuji, because he's overbearing but he is cute--or was, until Chuuya met Dazai-- but this feels like...
Betrayal. Or just plain /weird/ because+
honestly /who/ is attracted to dads?
Granted, most dads do /not/ look like Dazai in Chuuya's experience, but the sentiment remains the same.
Now he feels /gross./
Dazai frowns lightly, and he /looks/ like he wants to say something, or maybe reach out for Chuuya again. He +
Granted, most dads do /not/ look like Dazai in Chuuya's experience, but the sentiment remains the same.
Now he feels /gross./
Dazai frowns lightly, and he /looks/ like he wants to say something, or maybe reach out for Chuuya again. He +
doesn't though, finally shifting his gaze from Chuuya's face. "No. They can't do their jobs when they're in their kennels. Don't mess with them, and they won't mess with you."
Shuuji scowls, opening his mouth to say something in response, but Dazai cuts him off again. "Besides,+
Shuuji scowls, opening his mouth to say something in response, but Dazai cuts him off again. "Besides,+
they seem to like Chuuya just fine."
He smiles lightly at that, patting his thigh to get the dogs attention. They come right away, panting around his legs and rubbing against him.
(Is it Chuuya's imagination, or does Yoko put herself squarely between him and Shuuji and /stays/+
He smiles lightly at that, patting his thigh to get the dogs attention. They come right away, panting around his legs and rubbing against him.
(Is it Chuuya's imagination, or does Yoko put herself squarely between him and Shuuji and /stays/+
there?)
Dazai watches that with an interested look in his eye, like he's witnessing something he hasn't seen before. "I won't be gone long, anyways."
Shuuji doesn't have anything to say to /that/, choosing instead of push inside the house with little regard to Dazai.
His dad+
Dazai watches that with an interested look in his eye, like he's witnessing something he hasn't seen before. "I won't be gone long, anyways."
Shuuji doesn't have anything to say to /that/, choosing instead of push inside the house with little regard to Dazai.
His dad+
doesn't bat an eye, which makes Chuuya feel a /little/ bit better, in a weird way. At least Shuuji's attitude isn't because of Chuuya personally.
Then he's looking at Chuuya again, expression open. "I'm sorry; I'd give you the grand tour, but I do have to go."
Chuuya waves him+
Then he's looking at Chuuya again, expression open. "I'm sorry; I'd give you the grand tour, but I do have to go."
Chuuya waves him+
off. "Don't worry about it. You weren't expecting me, and I'm sure Shuuji will show me around."
Something about that seems to make Dazai nervous, his eyes flicking over his face. He frowns a little, looking hesitant and like he wants to /say/ something.
Eventually, he just+
Something about that seems to make Dazai nervous, his eyes flicking over his face. He frowns a little, looking hesitant and like he wants to /say/ something.
Eventually, he just+
sighs again, pushing off the doorframe. He looks oddly serious as he says, "Be safe, okay?"
Chuuya nods, confused. He's in the rich neighborhood with a pair of supposedly vicious guard dogs. What could happen?
Then Dazai is gone, disappearing somewhere in the house.
Chuuya +
Chuuya nods, confused. He's in the rich neighborhood with a pair of supposedly vicious guard dogs. What could happen?
Then Dazai is gone, disappearing somewhere in the house.
Chuuya +
ushers the dogs inside, pulling his fingers away from their playful bites. When he closes the door, Kozo goes running off, presumably to go find a toy or something.
Yoko though, she stays right by his side, looking up at him with a look of canine adoration. She just met him, +
Yoko though, she stays right by his side, looking up at him with a look of canine adoration. She just met him, +
and she already loves him, which is such a /dog/ thing that it's honestly adorable. He can barely walk a without tripping over her large paws, and her tail is wagging steadily.
The living room is open and spacious, and the hallway leads directly to the kitchen. He finds Shuuji+
The living room is open and spacious, and the hallway leads directly to the kitchen. He finds Shuuji+
there, digging in the fridge for something.
Chuuya nearly trips when Yoko suddenly stops in place, almost bodily blocking him from entering the kitchen.
When he moves around her, she doesn't follow, watching with narrowed, hawk-like eyes as he gets closer to Shuuji.+
Chuuya nearly trips when Yoko suddenly stops in place, almost bodily blocking him from entering the kitchen.
When he moves around her, she doesn't follow, watching with narrowed, hawk-like eyes as he gets closer to Shuuji.+
"You have a nice house," Chuuya starts, trying to break the slightly awkward tension.
Maybe he's the only one that's feeling it, because Shuuji looks up at him and speaks through a mouthful of sandwich. "Thanks. Wanna see it?"
Before Chuuya can give an answer, he's grabbing+
Maybe he's the only one that's feeling it, because Shuuji looks up at him and speaks through a mouthful of sandwich. "Thanks. Wanna see it?"
Before Chuuya can give an answer, he's grabbing+
him by the wrist, fingers carelessly tight, and drags him out of the kitchen.
"That's the backyard. I have parties there sometimes, when my dad isn't home. You can come to the next one," Shuuji winks at him, pointing to the big green yard outside a pair of glass doors.
"The +
"That's the backyard. I have parties there sometimes, when my dad isn't home. You can come to the next one," Shuuji winks at him, pointing to the big green yard outside a pair of glass doors.
"The +
living room you've already seen, and here's the library--"
Shuuji whisks him away before he can properly look, but the room looks /massive/, filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and Chuuya is silently drooling over all the books that must be in there.
"The stairs..."
Shuuji whisks him away before he can properly look, but the room looks /massive/, filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and Chuuya is silently drooling over all the books that must be in there.
"The stairs..."
The stairs are lined with a dark gray carpet, and luckily there's a railing, because Shuuji takes them two at a time with his long legs, and Chuuya is struggling to keep up without falling.
"Dad's room," Shuuji says, pointing, and Chuuya is embarrassed at how fast his head+
"Dad's room," Shuuji says, pointing, and Chuuya is embarrassed at how fast his head+
whips around to look.
The door is shut, but there's a faint red light seeping from under the door, and Chuuya wants to see inside /so/ badly. From the orientation of the house, he can guess that the huge balcony he saw outside is accessible through Dazai's room, and there's +
The door is shut, but there's a faint red light seeping from under the door, and Chuuya wants to see inside /so/ badly. From the orientation of the house, he can guess that the huge balcony he saw outside is accessible through Dazai's room, and there's +
nothing he wants more than to /explore/--
Shuuji yanks him forward, pulling him into another room. "And this," he crows proudly, "is /my/ room."
Truth be told, Chuuya isn't listening.He's busy imagining what Dazai's room looks like. Is it painted dark, or light? What color are+
Shuuji yanks him forward, pulling him into another room. "And this," he crows proudly, "is /my/ room."
Truth be told, Chuuya isn't listening.He's busy imagining what Dazai's room looks like. Is it painted dark, or light? What color are+
his curtains?
Are they regular curtains, or blackout curtains? Considering that Chuuya saw the large bank of windows facing the sunrise, he /must/ have blackout curtains.Or maybe he's just a morning person?
What does his bed look like?
Which leads to imagining Dazai /in/ said+
Are they regular curtains, or blackout curtains? Considering that Chuuya saw the large bank of windows facing the sunrise, he /must/ have blackout curtains.Or maybe he's just a morning person?
What does his bed look like?
Which leads to imagining Dazai /in/ said+
bed, and /that/ makes a jolt of heat pass through him, trying to reconstruct his abs from imagination alone--
In fact, he's so busy imagining that he's completely taken by surprise when Shuuji pushes him backwards, and pins him against the wall.
Startled, he opens his mouth--+
In fact, he's so busy imagining that he's completely taken by surprise when Shuuji pushes him backwards, and pins him against the wall.
Startled, he opens his mouth--+
Before he can say anything,another mouth is covering his own.
Shuuji's mouth is disgustingly wet,and there's no sense of buildup. It just feels like he's trying to /eat/ Chuuya.
It feels like fate that his first kiss with Shuuji happens when Chuuya was thinking about /Dazai/.+
Shuuji's mouth is disgustingly wet,and there's no sense of buildup. It just feels like he's trying to /eat/ Chuuya.
It feels like fate that his first kiss with Shuuji happens when Chuuya was thinking about /Dazai/.+
For a long moment, Chuuya just... stands there.
Truth be told, he’s not sure what to /do/. He’s kissed people before, but those were shy, quick, closed-mouth kisses. Those were mostly girls (and one notable dared kiss with a boy that changed Chuuya’s entire outlook) and back +
Truth be told, he’s not sure what to /do/. He’s kissed people before, but those were shy, quick, closed-mouth kisses. Those were mostly girls (and one notable dared kiss with a boy that changed Chuuya’s entire outlook) and back +
then, he hadn’t had the courage or experience to try what he called ‘adult kissing’.
(Yes, he knows it’s cringe, don’t judge him.)
/This/ is not like those kisses at /all/.
This is wet, almost slobbery, and faintly tastes like ham. Shuuji is pressing him into the wall hard,+
(Yes, he knows it’s cringe, don’t judge him.)
/This/ is not like those kisses at /all/.
This is wet, almost slobbery, and faintly tastes like ham. Shuuji is pressing him into the wall hard,+
like he’s trying to push him /through/ it.
His nose is smashed against Shuuji’s cheek, so he opens his mouth a little to take a breath.
It’s a mistake, one that Shuuji quickly takes advantage of and now there’s a /tongue/ in his mouth, hot and slimy and wiggling like an +
His nose is smashed against Shuuji’s cheek, so he opens his mouth a little to take a breath.
It’s a mistake, one that Shuuji quickly takes advantage of and now there’s a /tongue/ in his mouth, hot and slimy and wiggling like an +
octopus in its death throes.
When Chuuya tries to use his own tongue to push Shuuji out, because he /cannot/ breathe, Shuuji makes a weird, muffled noise and shudders against him.
In movies (and the few erotic novels Chuuya has read when his dad was away for business) they +
When Chuuya tries to use his own tongue to push Shuuji out, because he /cannot/ breathe, Shuuji makes a weird, muffled noise and shudders against him.
In movies (and the few erotic novels Chuuya has read when his dad was away for business) they +
describe kisses as something wonderful. Something good and pleasant that makes you hungry for more.
The only thing he wants right now is for this to end.
Either there’s something wrong with Chuuya and he doesn’t like kissing as much as he expected he would—
Or Shuuji is+
The only thing he wants right now is for this to end.
Either there’s something wrong with Chuuya and he doesn’t like kissing as much as he expected he would—
Or Shuuji is+
a phenomenally bad kisser. Which doesn’t seem that likely, considering he’s not shy or hesitant at /all/, so he must have a decent amount of experience.
Either way, this is just /not/ appealing.
Chuuya pushes against his shoulders, and it takes more force than he was expecting+
Either way, this is just /not/ appealing.
Chuuya pushes against his shoulders, and it takes more force than he was expecting+
to break the lip lock. “Shuuji—,” he starts.
“Yeah?” He pants, moist breath washing over Chuuya’s face. “Did you wanna move this to the bed?”
Chuuya would rather die a virgin, thank you very much.
“No,” he says, “I, uh— I have to go.”
Shuuji frowns at him, a storm +
“Yeah?” He pants, moist breath washing over Chuuya’s face. “Did you wanna move this to the bed?”
Chuuya would rather die a virgin, thank you very much.
“No,” he says, “I, uh— I have to go.”
Shuuji frowns at him, a storm +
gathering in his expression, and Chuuya scrambles to find a reasonable explanation.
Then it comes to him. “My book,” he breathes out in relief, “I have to go buy my books before the store closes. That’s what I needed my wallet for.”
Shuuji squints at him suspiciously, for long+
Then it comes to him. “My book,” he breathes out in relief, “I have to go buy my books before the store closes. That’s what I needed my wallet for.”
Shuuji squints at him suspiciously, for long+
enough that Chuuya starts to squirm uncomfortably.
Then his expression is clearing, going oddly blank and pleasant.
It leaves Chuuya feeling off-balance, like he’d braced himself for the storm and only got a sprinkler.
“Oh, okay. No problem. That reminds me— I should probably+
Then his expression is clearing, going oddly blank and pleasant.
It leaves Chuuya feeling off-balance, like he’d braced himself for the storm and only got a sprinkler.
“Oh, okay. No problem. That reminds me— I should probably+
do my homework too.”
Then he lets go of Chuuya completely, moving to his computer on the other side of the room.
Phew. Crisis averted. Chuuya takes a second to catch his breath, subtly wiping his mouth clean from all the slobber.
But the longer he stands there, the more he+
Then he lets go of Chuuya completely, moving to his computer on the other side of the room.
Phew. Crisis averted. Chuuya takes a second to catch his breath, subtly wiping his mouth clean from all the slobber.
But the longer he stands there, the more he+
realizes the crisis might /not/ have been averted.
Because Shuuji isn’t even /looking/ at him, and he’s already logging into his computer.
Which would be fine except—
He drove Chuuya here. And Chuuya doesn’t really know how to get back to campus himself.
Is he just +
Because Shuuji isn’t even /looking/ at him, and he’s already logging into his computer.
Which would be fine except—
He drove Chuuya here. And Chuuya doesn’t really know how to get back to campus himself.
Is he just +
supposed to stand here until he notices him again? By now, there’s probably less than 2 hours until the store closes, and it took at least twenty minutes to get here. He doesn’t want to take any chances of being late.
He clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his feet. “Will you+
He clears his throat awkwardly, shifting his feet. “Will you+
drive me back, please?”
Turning in his chair, Shuuji gives him a big pair of innocent looking eyes. “I would, darling— but I’m just /so/ busy. You understand. You’ll have to take the train back, unfortunately.”
Chuuya’s stomach /drops/.
He’s fine with taking the train, of +
Turning in his chair, Shuuji gives him a big pair of innocent looking eyes. “I would, darling— but I’m just /so/ busy. You understand. You’ll have to take the train back, unfortunately.”
Chuuya’s stomach /drops/.
He’s fine with taking the train, of +
course he is, but this feels like a /punishment/. Like he did something wrong, and now he has to deal with the consequences.
Not to mention that he doesn’t even /know/ where the nearest train station is. He didn’t pay attention on the drive in, and since this is the upscale+
Not to mention that he doesn’t even /know/ where the nearest train station is. He didn’t pay attention on the drive in, and since this is the upscale+
residential area, it’s probably not anywhere nearby.
But it’s not like he can /force/ Shuuji into giving him a ride. He didn’t mention anything before, but maybe he really is busy, and Chuuya doesn’t have a lot of time to argue with him.
It’s fine. He’ll just walk. It’s fine.+
But it’s not like he can /force/ Shuuji into giving him a ride. He didn’t mention anything before, but maybe he really is busy, and Chuuya doesn’t have a lot of time to argue with him.
It’s fine. He’ll just walk. It’s fine.+
“Oh. Okay. Do you have a map or anything? I don’t know where the station is.”
Shuuji waves a hand at him. “So sorry darling, I don’t. You can ask the neighbors, though. Or Google it.”
Right. That makes sense.
He nods, not that Shuuji is paying attention to him anymore, and+
Shuuji waves a hand at him. “So sorry darling, I don’t. You can ask the neighbors, though. Or Google it.”
Right. That makes sense.
He nods, not that Shuuji is paying attention to him anymore, and+
slinks out of the room, feeling like a kicked puppy.
Outside, Yoko is laying down with her head on her paws, staring dejectedly at the door.She perks up when she sees him though, and when she sees he’s alone, she rolls over on her and gives him a pleading look, silently begging+
Outside, Yoko is laying down with her head on her paws, staring dejectedly at the door.She perks up when she sees him though, and when she sees he’s alone, she rolls over on her and gives him a pleading look, silently begging+
him to rub her belly.
He does, crouching with a sigh to give her attention. “You’re a good girl,” he murmurs, smiling when her tail thumps loudly against the floor.
Then a thought occurs to him. “Is your dad home, girl?”
Asking Dazai for a ride will be awkward and +
He does, crouching with a sigh to give her attention. “You’re a good girl,” he murmurs, smiling when her tail thumps loudly against the floor.
Then a thought occurs to him. “Is your dad home, girl?”
Asking Dazai for a ride will be awkward and +
probably overstepping some boundaries, but it’s better than walking.
He said he was leaving for work soon, so maybe he’ll be able to drop Chuuya off near a station without too much hassle.
Has he left yet?
Yoko gets up to follow him as he walks to Dazai’s room. The door is+
He said he was leaving for work soon, so maybe he’ll be able to drop Chuuya off near a station without too much hassle.
Has he left yet?
Yoko gets up to follow him as he walks to Dazai’s room. The door is+
still shut, so he leans his head against the wood, trying to see if he can hear any movement inside.
Nothing, except for the sound of Yoko snuffling at his shoes.
“Yoko,” he says, trying to be firm so she listens, “where is Dazai?”
She tilts her head, ears twitching.
“Um.+
Nothing, except for the sound of Yoko snuffling at his shoes.
“Yoko,” he says, trying to be firm so she listens, “where is Dazai?”
She tilts her head, ears twitching.
“Um.+
Dazai. Fetch.”
She tilts her head the other way, clearly confused but getting an A+ on listening skills.
Well, shit. Maybe he’s downstairs. Shuuji did mention a garage.
When he approaches the stairs, Yoko sits at the top. He motions for her to follow him, but she just wags+
She tilts her head the other way, clearly confused but getting an A+ on listening skills.
Well, shit. Maybe he’s downstairs. Shuuji did mention a garage.
When he approaches the stairs, Yoko sits at the top. He motions for her to follow him, but she just wags+
her tail at him.
He doesn’t understand until he gets to the bottom of the stairs and suddenly Yoko is rushing down after him. He’s heard of dogs that were training like that, to wait at the top or the bottom of the stairs until their owner gets to the other side. It’s mostly to+
He doesn’t understand until he gets to the bottom of the stairs and suddenly Yoko is rushing down after him. He’s heard of dogs that were training like that, to wait at the top or the bottom of the stairs until their owner gets to the other side. It’s mostly to+
avoid injuries, and generally just a mark of good training.
It makes sense that Yoko and Kozo are trained like that— they /are/ guard dogs, and big enough that they could send Chuuya toppling down the stairs on accident— but the fact that Yoko has already placed him in a role+
It makes sense that Yoko and Kozo are trained like that— they /are/ guard dogs, and big enough that they could send Chuuya toppling down the stairs on accident— but the fact that Yoko has already placed him in a role+
of leadership and respect makes him smile.
Kozo is in the kitchen, gnawing on a bone like it might be his last meal. He looks up, mouth comically wide, as they pass, but doesn’t get up.
Dazai is not in the backyard or the living room, and when Chuuya finds a room he thinks+
Kozo is in the kitchen, gnawing on a bone like it might be his last meal. He looks up, mouth comically wide, as they pass, but doesn’t get up.
Dazai is not in the backyard or the living room, and when Chuuya finds a room he thinks+
might be the garage—
It’s locked.
(He does also find a /ridiculously/ nice bathroom while he’s looking, with a double wide bath /and/ a separate standing shower. He can already imagine himself floating in that tub sipping champagne.)
Well, it looks like Dazai isn’t home. +
It’s locked.
(He does also find a /ridiculously/ nice bathroom while he’s looking, with a double wide bath /and/ a separate standing shower. He can already imagine himself floating in that tub sipping champagne.)
Well, it looks like Dazai isn’t home. +
“Dammit,” he sighs.
No use putting it off anymore. The sun will start to set soon, and he has quite a distance to walk.
He says goodbye to the dogs, pushing gently on Yoko’s nose when she tries to follow him outside. Her soft whines make him sad to hear, but she can’t come. +
No use putting it off anymore. The sun will start to set soon, and he has quite a distance to walk.
He says goodbye to the dogs, pushing gently on Yoko’s nose when she tries to follow him outside. Her soft whines make him sad to hear, but she can’t come. +
Though, the idea of stealing Shuuji’s dog /does/ give the petty, vengeful side him a little thrill.
Outside, the neighborhood is just as quiet as it was when they arrived. Chuuya looks around, standing on his tiptoes to see if he can see any landmarks above the houses.
...He’s+
Outside, the neighborhood is just as quiet as it was when they arrived. Chuuya looks around, standing on his tiptoes to see if he can see any landmarks above the houses.
...He’s+
too short to.
Grumbling to himself, he decides to head in the direction they came from and find his way from there.
He does wish he’d brought his headphones though, because listening to the slight wind in the trees is soothing but /boring/ and it’s easier to walk quicker when+
Grumbling to himself, he decides to head in the direction they came from and find his way from there.
He does wish he’d brought his headphones though, because listening to the slight wind in the trees is soothing but /boring/ and it’s easier to walk quicker when+
he has a beat in his ears.
The work day hasn’t ended yet, so he only sees one car pass by as he walks down the block. No one is outside, though there is a few dogs leashed in their yards.
He’s only made it three blocks, starting the incline back down into the city, when he +
The work day hasn’t ended yet, so he only sees one car pass by as he walks down the block. No one is outside, though there is a few dogs leashed in their yards.
He’s only made it three blocks, starting the incline back down into the city, when he +
sees something low, black and sleek crest over the hill in front of him.
It /looks/ like a motorcycle, but it’s the stealthiest one he’s ever seen, because it’s barely over a block away and he /still/ doesn’t hear the roar of an engine.
...It’s slowing down. Slowing down a+
It /looks/ like a motorcycle, but it’s the stealthiest one he’s ever seen, because it’s barely over a block away and he /still/ doesn’t hear the roar of an engine.
...It’s slowing down. Slowing down a+
/lot/.
Chuuya is debating the logistics of being kidnapped on a motorcycle— are they gonna throw him over the handlebars, or tie him to the gas tank— and he is /fully/ prepared to take off running for his life as the motorcycle comes to a stop beside him—
“Chuuya?” +
Chuuya is debating the logistics of being kidnapped on a motorcycle— are they gonna throw him over the handlebars, or tie him to the gas tank— and he is /fully/ prepared to take off running for his life as the motorcycle comes to a stop beside him—
“Chuuya?” +
The kidnapper knows his /name/—
Then black gloved hands are coming up, pushing the visor up.
It’s Dazai, looking at him with a concerned frown.
The man owns a /motorcycle/, and is /casually/ straddling it between strong thighs in broad daylight. This is so not fair.
+
Then black gloved hands are coming up, pushing the visor up.
It’s Dazai, looking at him with a concerned frown.
The man owns a /motorcycle/, and is /casually/ straddling it between strong thighs in broad daylight. This is so not fair.
+
“What happened? Why are you walking?”
Chuuya scowls at him, irrationally angry that he’s so /hot/, and surprisingly nice, and rides a sexy motorcycle—
And is /completely/ unattainable.
“I thought you had to go to work or something.”
Dazai blows out a breath, leaning back+
Chuuya scowls at him, irrationally angry that he’s so /hot/, and surprisingly nice, and rides a sexy motorcycle—
And is /completely/ unattainable.
“I thought you had to go to work or something.”
Dazai blows out a breath, leaning back+
a little. The bike shifts, but he doesn’t seem even a little worried, knee-high black boots firm on the ground. “Yeah, I was, but the person I was supposed to meet with had an...emergency.”
Chuuya kicks at the ground. “Oh. Are they okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Fedya is resilient, +
Chuuya kicks at the ground. “Oh. Are they okay?”
“Oh, yeah. Fedya is resilient, +
impossible to keep down for long. He’s like a rat.”
Something about /that/ makes him snicker, and Chuuya just stands there awkwardly as he laughs, feeling like he’s on the outside of an inside joke.
He doesn’t get it. Why is that funny?
Eventually Dazai calms back down again+
Something about /that/ makes him snicker, and Chuuya just stands there awkwardly as he laughs, feeling like he’s on the outside of an inside joke.
He doesn’t get it. Why is that funny?
Eventually Dazai calms back down again+
“You didn’t answer my question though.”
Chuuya looks away, shoving his hands in his pockets. He’s not quite sure what kind of person Dazai is, and not knowing how he’ll react— after knowing the emotional whiplash that is his son—makes him nervous.
Is...is he going to be /mad/?+
Chuuya looks away, shoving his hands in his pockets. He’s not quite sure what kind of person Dazai is, and not knowing how he’ll react— after knowing the emotional whiplash that is his son—makes him nervous.
Is...is he going to be /mad/?+
He doesn’t see why he would be, but he also doesn’t see why Shuuji couldn’t just drive him home quickly, and ever since yesterday the whole situation has just been making Chuuya feel like the ground is constantly moving underneath him and he doesn’t know what to expect.
He +
He +
decides to go with a watered down version of the truth. “I had to go home, but Shuuji was too busy right now, so.”
Brown eyes stare at him for a moment, evaluating. Then Dazai is pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing in aggravation. “I /told/ that stupid kid—,” he mutters to+
Brown eyes stare at him for a moment, evaluating. Then Dazai is pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing in aggravation. “I /told/ that stupid kid—,” he mutters to+
himself.
He looks at Chuuya again, looking oddly determined. “Alright. Get on.”
“What?”
Dazai pats the space behind him. His bike /looks/ like one of those sleek, tiny street bikes that Chuuya sees in movies, but the oversized version. The seat comes up to Chuuya’s waist. +
He looks at Chuuya again, looking oddly determined. “Alright. Get on.”
“What?”
Dazai pats the space behind him. His bike /looks/ like one of those sleek, tiny street bikes that Chuuya sees in movies, but the oversized version. The seat comes up to Chuuya’s waist. +
“Get on,” he says again.
Chuuya’s eyes flick to him, down to the bike, then back up to him. “You.. want me... to get on /that/... with you?”
Dazai grins, teeth perfect and straight, making Chuuya’s heart jump in his chest. He’s so /charming/.
“Yep. I’ll give you a ride home.”+
Chuuya’s eyes flick to him, down to the bike, then back up to him. “You.. want me... to get on /that/... with you?”
Dazai grins, teeth perfect and straight, making Chuuya’s heart jump in his chest. He’s so /charming/.
“Yep. I’ll give you a ride home.”+
Chuuya’s mind /immediately/ flashes to the nauseating turns and swerves Shuuji takes while driving. He’s not sure if bad driving is /genetic/, but he imagines that but on a /motorcycle/, with nothing protecting him, and feels /terrified/.
“Uh... no thanks.”
Dazai tilts his+
“Uh... no thanks.”
Dazai tilts his+
head, reminding him of Yoko. “Why not?”
Chuuya doesn’t really know how to tell him that he doesn’t want to end up as a smear on the ground, so he goes with something in a different direction. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
That pulls a short laugh and a fond smile from+
Chuuya doesn’t really know how to tell him that he doesn’t want to end up as a smear on the ground, so he goes with something in a different direction. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
That pulls a short laugh and a fond smile from+
Dazai, like Chuuya said something funny. “You’re not an inconvenience or a burden, doll.”
That words hit Chuuya unexpectedly hard. He’s spent most of his life feeling like a /burden/ to his family, because he wasn’t /wanted/.
His father has never been unkind to him, but /he/+
That words hit Chuuya unexpectedly hard. He’s spent most of his life feeling like a /burden/ to his family, because he wasn’t /wanted/.
His father has never been unkind to him, but /he/+
never wanted three children. He only wanted two, and was quite happy with Chuuya’s elder sisters.
But his /mother/ wanted another, a little boy, and because Rimbaud loved her so much, he gave in—
Then Rimbaud was forced to raise him alone, and he did as best as he could with+
But his /mother/ wanted another, a little boy, and because Rimbaud loved her so much, he gave in—
Then Rimbaud was forced to raise him alone, and he did as best as he could with+
what he had.
There were only a very few, rare times that Chuuya ever felt unloved. But there was always this underlying knowledge that his father never /wanted/ him—
He /ended up/ with him.
Chuuya swallows hard, looking away again. Even if it’s /not/ a bother, he’s still+
There were only a very few, rare times that Chuuya ever felt unloved. But there was always this underlying knowledge that his father never /wanted/ him—
He /ended up/ with him.
Chuuya swallows hard, looking away again. Even if it’s /not/ a bother, he’s still+
concerned. “I’m not getting on that thing without a helmet.”
Safety first. Chuuya still has nightmares about the videos his father showed him to scare him off wanting a motorcycle.
Dazai shrugs, reaching up. “No problem,” he says, pulling off his own helmet.
He shakes his+
Safety first. Chuuya still has nightmares about the videos his father showed him to scare him off wanting a motorcycle.
Dazai shrugs, reaching up. “No problem,” he says, pulling off his own helmet.
He shakes his+
head, dark curly hair flying. It looks /so/ soft, and Chuuya’s fingers itch to bury themselves in it—
“Come here,” Dazai says, lower. Before, his voice was casual, conversational. But now it’s deeper, a /little/ commanding, like he’s expecting Chuuya to /listen/.
He’s not+
“Come here,” Dazai says, lower. Before, his voice was casual, conversational. But now it’s deeper, a /little/ commanding, like he’s expecting Chuuya to /listen/.
He’s not+
wrong, because Chuuya is stepping forward before he even realizes it, drawn in.
He ends up standing near the handlebars, with Dazai’s thigh between his knees, and he can /feel/ the heat pouring off him, intoxicating.
“What about you?” He asks, trying to distract himself.
+
He ends up standing near the handlebars, with Dazai’s thigh between his knees, and he can /feel/ the heat pouring off him, intoxicating.
“What about you?” He asks, trying to distract himself.
+
Smiling, Dazai reaches out with his hand. His fingertips just /barely/ ghost over Chuuya’s skin as he tucks his bangs behind his ear.
The contact is so light, so fleeting, but it sends a /cascade/ of butterflies flying in Chuuya’s stomach. His knees feel weak, and his heart+
The contact is so light, so fleeting, but it sends a /cascade/ of butterflies flying in Chuuya’s stomach. His knees feel weak, and his heart+
is stuttering in his chest.
Again, he wants it again, wants those eyes and gentle smile on him /forever/—
“I only have the one,” Dazai responds, bringing the helmet up. “Your safety first.”
Then the helmet is slowly being pressed onto his head, and Chuuya is grateful because+
Again, he wants it again, wants those eyes and gentle smile on him /forever/—
“I only have the one,” Dazai responds, bringing the helmet up. “Your safety first.”
Then the helmet is slowly being pressed onto his head, and Chuuya is grateful because+
he knows his cheeks are bright red.
The inside of the helmet is surprisingly comfortable, padded around his ears. It smells like Dazai, warm and musky, with the hint of dark-forest smell of his cologne.
“It’s a little big for you,” Dazai murmurs, tilting his head back so his+
The inside of the helmet is surprisingly comfortable, padded around his ears. It smells like Dazai, warm and musky, with the hint of dark-forest smell of his cologne.
“It’s a little big for you,” Dazai murmurs, tilting his head back so his+
fingers can slide under his chin to find the safety strap there, “but we’ll make it work.”
Chuuya holds still, breathing shallowly as Dazai works the strap tighter. Every moment, every brush of his fingertips over his throat, feels like it lasts /forever/. God, he just wants to+
Chuuya holds still, breathing shallowly as Dazai works the strap tighter. Every moment, every brush of his fingertips over his throat, feels like it lasts /forever/. God, he just wants to+
melt into it, to lean forward until his entire being is supported by the thigh between his legs and the hand around his throat—
“There you go,” Dazai breaks the moment, grinning at him. He raps at the helmet with his knuckles. It sounds muffled.
Shaking his head to gather his+
“There you go,” Dazai breaks the moment, grinning at him. He raps at the helmet with his knuckles. It sounds muffled.
Shaking his head to gather his+
thoughts, Chuuya nearly sends himself stumbling. The helmet is heavier than he expected, and now he feels too-heavy. “I feel like a bobble head,” he mutters.
Dazai snorts. “Kinda look like one too.”
Instinctively, Chuuya kicks at his ankle for that one. The visor is lowered+
Dazai snorts. “Kinda look like one too.”
Instinctively, Chuuya kicks at his ankle for that one. The visor is lowered+
again, and it makes the world slightly darker. It also hides his vicious scowl.
“Alright, alright,” Dazai snickers at him, shifting his weight so the bike is leaned further towards him. “Hop on.”
Ignoring the fact that Dazai practically has to tip the bike on its side so+
“Alright, alright,” Dazai snickers at him, shifting his weight so the bike is leaned further towards him. “Hop on.”
Ignoring the fact that Dazai practically has to tip the bike on its side so+
he can get on is hard, but he manages.
Throwing his leg over the back, Chuuya hops up. He’s expecting the bike to shift or dip beneath his weight—
But with Dazai holding it, it doesn’t even move.
Holding onto the back of Dazai’s jacket keeps him centered as he straightens+
Throwing his leg over the back, Chuuya hops up. He’s expecting the bike to shift or dip beneath his weight—
But with Dazai holding it, it doesn’t even move.
Holding onto the back of Dazai’s jacket keeps him centered as he straightens+
the bike back out.
Chuuya’s legs dangle hilariously far from the ground. He kicks them forward, unsure what to do with them. All the pictures he’s seen of motorcycle passengers show them with their feet propped up somewhere, but he doesn’t know where. He doesn’t want to touch +
Chuuya’s legs dangle hilariously far from the ground. He kicks them forward, unsure what to do with them. All the pictures he’s seen of motorcycle passengers show them with their feet propped up somewhere, but he doesn’t know where. He doesn’t want to touch +
anything he’s not supposed to.
Then, suddenly, Dazai is bending over and long, hot fingers are wrapping around Chuuya’s calf and sliding down to his ankle.
“Feet here,” Dazai instructs, guiding his toes into the right spot. He probably doesn’t know that his hand feels like+
Then, suddenly, Dazai is bending over and long, hot fingers are wrapping around Chuuya’s calf and sliding down to his ankle.
“Feet here,” Dazai instructs, guiding his toes into the right spot. He probably doesn’t know that his hand feels like+
a brand on Chuuya’s skin.
He repeats the gesture with his other foot, and Chuuya is on the verge of losing his /mind/. Both of his legs are tingling and it feels like he’s swallowed a ball of /fire/.
Then the next problem arises.
“You’re going to have to hold onto me,” Dazai+
He repeats the gesture with his other foot, and Chuuya is on the verge of losing his /mind/. Both of his legs are tingling and it feels like he’s swallowed a ball of /fire/.
Then the next problem arises.
“You’re going to have to hold onto me,” Dazai+
tells him, sounding faintly amused.
Chuuya grips his jacket loosely with both hands.
“No, not like that.”
Before he can say anything or /stop/ him, Dazai is showing an incredible amount of flexibility by reaching behind him and grabbing a wrist in each hand.
He guides his+
Chuuya grips his jacket loosely with both hands.
“No, not like that.”
Before he can say anything or /stop/ him, Dazai is showing an incredible amount of flexibility by reaching behind him and grabbing a wrist in each hand.
He guides his+
arms around his waist, tugging him forward until Chuuya is pressed up against him from hip to chest, hugging him from behind.
“Tightly,” he says, wrapping Chuuya’s fingers around his own wrists. “Don’t let go.”
He won’t. He swears he won’t. He won’t /ever/ let go, not ever. +
“Tightly,” he says, wrapping Chuuya’s fingers around his own wrists. “Don’t let go.”
He won’t. He swears he won’t. He won’t /ever/ let go, not ever. +
Dazai is solid in front of him, big enough that Chuuya can /barely/ wrap his arms around him, and are those /abs/ he feels? They have to be.
“Ready?” Dazai asks, revving the engine.
Chuuya nods, arms tightening.
“I want you to tell me, doll.”
The nicknames are /definitely/+
“Ready?” Dazai asks, revving the engine.
Chuuya nods, arms tightening.
“I want you to tell me, doll.”
The nicknames are /definitely/+
a family thing. Objectively 'doll' is a lot more objectifying than 'darling' is, but the difference is in how they /say/ it.
Shuuji calls him 'darling' like he can't be bothered to remember or use his actual name. Come to think of it, he's not sure he has even /said/ his name+
Shuuji calls him 'darling' like he can't be bothered to remember or use his actual name. Come to think of it, he's not sure he has even /said/ his name+
beyond the time he introduced him.
Dazai calls him 'doll' like it's a compliment. Like he's /admiring/ him.
"Yes," Chuuya speaks up, nodding again.
Yelping when the bike suddenly moves forward, he squeezes his eyes shut and hangs on with all his strength. He keeps waiting for+
Dazai calls him 'doll' like it's a compliment. Like he's /admiring/ him.
"Yes," Chuuya speaks up, nodding again.
Yelping when the bike suddenly moves forward, he squeezes his eyes shut and hangs on with all his strength. He keeps waiting for+
the nausea to hit, for the swooping turns and the unsafe swerving--
But it doesn't happen. The bike is steady, centered squarely on the correct side of the road, and while he's not going /fast/, he's not going slow either.
He's driving like a completely sane person.+
But it doesn't happen. The bike is steady, centered squarely on the correct side of the road, and while he's not going /fast/, he's not going slow either.
He's driving like a completely sane person.+
/Hallelujah./
Chuuya finally relaxes and lets himself enjoy the ride. The bike is vibrating between his legs, full of power, and the wind is rushing by him. It's totally different than riding in a car. It's more free, more adrenaline-inducing.
He can already feel his heartrate+
Chuuya finally relaxes and lets himself enjoy the ride. The bike is vibrating between his legs, full of power, and the wind is rushing by him. It's totally different than riding in a car. It's more free, more adrenaline-inducing.
He can already feel his heartrate+
speeding up, and instead of feeling scared--
He's feeling /bold/.
Besides, the view /sucks/ from back here, because he can't see over Dazai's shoulder with how tall he is, so he's regulated to watching the houses flash by.
If he's not getting the /view/, then he wants the +
He's feeling /bold/.
Besides, the view /sucks/ from back here, because he can't see over Dazai's shoulder with how tall he is, so he's regulated to watching the houses flash by.
If he's not getting the /view/, then he wants the +
/speed/.
Throwing caution to the wind, he leans up higher, trying to get close to Dazai's face. "Faster!" He shouts to be heard over the wind.
(He can't see Dazai's smile, but it's there and it's wild.)
The engine revs again, and they're shooting forward, picking up speed+
Throwing caution to the wind, he leans up higher, trying to get close to Dazai's face. "Faster!" He shouts to be heard over the wind.
(He can't see Dazai's smile, but it's there and it's wild.)
The engine revs again, and they're shooting forward, picking up speed+
rapidly. Dazai leans forward more and Chuuya follows him down.
A loud laugh bursts out of him, uncontrollable. He feels like he's /flying/, soaring through the air wildly. For a moment, he's left the ground behind, all his worries and anxieties fading away.
It's just him, the +
A loud laugh bursts out of him, uncontrollable. He feels like he's /flying/, soaring through the air wildly. For a moment, he's left the ground behind, all his worries and anxieties fading away.
It's just him, the +
wind, and the solidly warm body in his arms.
Then something is touching his intertwined wrists, and he's losing his breath for a whole /new/ reason.
A /huge/ hand is wrapping over both of his wrists, fingers wrapping easily around the width. One finger slides in the space +
Then something is touching his intertwined wrists, and he's losing his breath for a whole /new/ reason.
A /huge/ hand is wrapping over both of his wrists, fingers wrapping easily around the width. One finger slides in the space +
between his arms, while the rest of his fingers wrap around his left wrist, and his thumb over his right.
Then Dazai is /tightening/ his grip, locking him in place, and he can /feel/ the hidden strength there, like he could crush his wrists in one hand effortlessly--
The bike+
Then Dazai is /tightening/ his grip, locking him in place, and he can /feel/ the hidden strength there, like he could crush his wrists in one hand effortlessly--
The bike+
leans to the side /hard/, and suddenly Chuuya knows /why/ Dazai is holding onto him so tightly.
They've hit a twisting road, and they're soaring around the corners. Each one is like a taste of danger, because they lean /so/ low sometimes, but Dazai is confident and unshakeable+
They've hit a twisting road, and they're soaring around the corners. Each one is like a taste of danger, because they lean /so/ low sometimes, but Dazai is confident and unshakeable+
and the bike does not waver an inch more than he's expecting it to.
He can feel the way Dazai's weight shifts in anticipation of the turn, muscles flexing, and it feels /so/ natural to fall into his rhythm, leaning with him.
Nothing about this feels forced, or unexpected or +
He can feel the way Dazai's weight shifts in anticipation of the turn, muscles flexing, and it feels /so/ natural to fall into his rhythm, leaning with him.
Nothing about this feels forced, or unexpected or +
/confusing/.
This...
This feels /exactly/ where he's meant to be. This feels like heaven.
Eventually the road straightens out, and they're driving into the more urban areas. The traffic is heavier here, so Dazai is forced to slow.
(He also lets go of Chuuya's wrists, but he+
This...
This feels /exactly/ where he's meant to be. This feels like heaven.
Eventually the road straightens out, and they're driving into the more urban areas. The traffic is heavier here, so Dazai is forced to slow.
(He also lets go of Chuuya's wrists, but he+
can still feel the lingering strength of his grip, like a healing bruise.)
The speed evolves into quick dodges of cars as Dazai zigzags his way through the traffic.
Even now, Chuuya doesn't feel sick or afraid, because there's not a /hint/ of hesitation on Dazai's part. No+
The speed evolves into quick dodges of cars as Dazai zigzags his way through the traffic.
Even now, Chuuya doesn't feel sick or afraid, because there's not a /hint/ of hesitation on Dazai's part. No+
sudden stomp of the brakes, no getting too close to other cars, no shoving himself into too-tight spaces.
Where Shuuji drives like he's inexperienced--
Dazai drives like he was born with a motorcycle between his legs.
All in all, it takes barely fifteen minutes for them to+
Where Shuuji drives like he's inexperienced--
Dazai drives like he was born with a motorcycle between his legs.
All in all, it takes barely fifteen minutes for them to+
arrive back on campus.
His arms feel almost numb from how hard he's been holding on, and it takes him a second to unpeel his fingers from around his wrists.
Chuuya straightens up, stretching out his back and raising his arms overhead. That makes him slide further into the seat+
His arms feel almost numb from how hard he's been holding on, and it takes him a second to unpeel his fingers from around his wrists.
Chuuya straightens up, stretching out his back and raising his arms overhead. That makes him slide further into the seat+
and for the first time, he realizes how /wide/ his thighs have to spread to fit Dazai's hips between them and--
In the next second, he's scrambling off the bike, because that thought /alone/ feels like it sparks flames in his belly, sending pleasurable sparks down his thighs.
+
In the next second, he's scrambling off the bike, because that thought /alone/ feels like it sparks flames in his belly, sending pleasurable sparks down his thighs.
+
His legs feel a little unsteady, but he keeps himself upright out of sheer willpower. "That was fun," he says breathlessly, and even if Dazai can't /see/ the grin on his face, it's easily heard in his voice.
"Yeah?" Dazai smiles back at him, lopsided dimple briefly reappearing,+
"Yeah?" Dazai smiles back at him, lopsided dimple briefly reappearing,+
"I'm glad."
He really /does/ look glad too, like all it takes for him to be happy is for /Chuuya/ to be happy.
Dazai motions him closer again, and Chuuya is stumbling closer, because he can/not/ resist this man, not his tall, broad body or beautiful dark eyes or his huge hands+
He really /does/ look glad too, like all it takes for him to be happy is for /Chuuya/ to be happy.
Dazai motions him closer again, and Chuuya is stumbling closer, because he can/not/ resist this man, not his tall, broad body or beautiful dark eyes or his huge hands+
or his charming attitude.
"Come here," he says again, reaching for the strap on the helmet. Chuuya lifts his chin for him easily, letting him work the strap loose and then pull the helmet off his head.
Instantly, his hands are flying to his head, because he can /feel/ the hat+
"Come here," he says again, reaching for the strap on the helmet. Chuuya lifts his chin for him easily, letting him work the strap loose and then pull the helmet off his head.
Instantly, his hands are flying to his head, because he can /feel/ the hat+
hair he has. Without a mirror, he can't make it perfect, but he can /try./
"Thanks. For driving me home," Chuuya says, grateful. He still has a while before the book store closes, and that ride is probably going into one of his top ten favorite memories. Definitely worth the+
"Thanks. For driving me home," Chuuya says, grateful. He still has a while before the book store closes, and that ride is probably going into one of his top ten favorite memories. Definitely worth the+
fiasco with Shuuji--
That reminds him. He wiped his face off after he left Shuuji's room, but he /didn't/ rinse off his mouth.
Oh no. Does he have secondhand ham breath?? Is the helmet going to smell like ham breath now? Dazai's putting it on, oh /god/--
Settling the helmet+
That reminds him. He wiped his face off after he left Shuuji's room, but he /didn't/ rinse off his mouth.
Oh no. Does he have secondhand ham breath?? Is the helmet going to smell like ham breath now? Dazai's putting it on, oh /god/--
Settling the helmet+
on his head, Dazai pops the visor so they can make eye contact as he drawls,slowly, like he's savoring it, "It was my pleasure, doll."
Chuuya's cheeks turn pink again,and the curve of Dazai's lips is /knowing/,but he doesn't say anything.
He just turns the bike and roars away.+
Chuuya's cheeks turn pink again,and the curve of Dazai's lips is /knowing/,but he doesn't say anything.
He just turns the bike and roars away.+
———
Procrastination is not something that comes naturally to Dazai. He’s a restless kind of person, always needing another task to do, and he /prefers/ to get all his tasks done as soon as possible. There’s always more things to do, and if he runs behind on too many things, it +
Procrastination is not something that comes naturally to Dazai. He’s a restless kind of person, always needing another task to do, and he /prefers/ to get all his tasks done as soon as possible. There’s always more things to do, and if he runs behind on too many things, it +
overruns him.
It would be too much to say that every aspect of his life is carefully regimented and organized— but a decent part of it, and most of his work life, /is/. He can’t afford to fall behind, not even for a day.
Which is why it’s surprising that, two days later, on a+
It would be too much to say that every aspect of his life is carefully regimented and organized— but a decent part of it, and most of his work life, /is/. He can’t afford to fall behind, not even for a day.
Which is why it’s surprising that, two days later, on a+
Sunday night, Dazai finds himself staring at the wall and, admittedly, /procrastinating/.
Well, perhaps procrastinating isn’t the right idea. It’s more of a...
Mulling over a problem that isn’t really a problem that he tried not to think about for the last two days, but now +
Well, perhaps procrastinating isn’t the right idea. It’s more of a...
Mulling over a problem that isn’t really a problem that he tried not to think about for the last two days, but now +
he’s here.
Stuck.
Thinking about Nakahara Chuuya.
There’s something /intriguing/ about him. Dazai understands why Shuji likes him, because that school ID he found did not do him justice at all.
Messy red hair that curls around his features, searing blue eyes that are /so/+
Stuck.
Thinking about Nakahara Chuuya.
There’s something /intriguing/ about him. Dazai understands why Shuji likes him, because that school ID he found did not do him justice at all.
Messy red hair that curls around his features, searing blue eyes that are /so/+
expressive and surprising hard to look away from, a generous splash of freckles over his cute button nose, a waist small enough that Dazai could wrap his hands around entirely—
He gets that. He even gets why /he’s/ fascinated by him.
Even in the few minutes they’d interacted,+
He gets that. He even gets why /he’s/ fascinated by him.
Even in the few minutes they’d interacted,+
Chuuya had been /interesting/. Obviously inexperienced and therefore a little hesitant and shy, but /underneath/ that was a layer of confidence and daring.
Part of Dazai wants to strip back layer of inexperience, to encourage that confidence to grow and see what it shaped him +
Part of Dazai wants to strip back layer of inexperience, to encourage that confidence to grow and see what it shaped him +
into.
(Part of Dazai wants to push him til he /breaks/, to see what kind of person Chuuya /really/ is.)
And yeah, Chuuya wasn’t very /subtle/ about his fawning over him, which /is/ flattering. His expressive eyes were practically filled with stars whenever he looked at+
(Part of Dazai wants to push him til he /breaks/, to see what kind of person Chuuya /really/ is.)
And yeah, Chuuya wasn’t very /subtle/ about his fawning over him, which /is/ flattering. His expressive eyes were practically filled with stars whenever he looked at+
Dazai, and he’d /like/ to see them filled with tears as he—
He digresses.
Anyways, the point is, he understands all that.
But the /dogs/? He doesn’t understand that.
Yoko and Kozo are Akita’s, a breed which is well known to be standoffish and even aggressive to people if+
He digresses.
Anyways, the point is, he understands all that.
But the /dogs/? He doesn’t understand that.
Yoko and Kozo are Akita’s, a breed which is well known to be standoffish and even aggressive to people if+
not socialized properly.
He paid good money to ensure that his dogs were very well trained— but they’ve never been /friendly/. Not aggressive (at least, not without a command or a reason to be), but definitely not a family dog.
/Especially/ not Yoko. She’s /very/ picky +
He paid good money to ensure that his dogs were very well trained— but they’ve never been /friendly/. Not aggressive (at least, not without a command or a reason to be), but definitely not a family dog.
/Especially/ not Yoko. She’s /very/ picky +
about who she accepts into her inner circle. She downright hates Shuji (it’s not like Kozo likes him either, but he’s mostly indifferent to his presence. Except for that one time Shuji tried to take a bone of his move and nearly lost a finger for it) and even some days she’s +
standoffish with Dazai, who she’s known since a few days after she was born, more or less.
So the fact that Dazai found her belly up demanding rubs from a /complete/ stranger, instead of trying to intimidate him or protect the house?
It’s /weird/. Weird enough that he’s still+
So the fact that Dazai found her belly up demanding rubs from a /complete/ stranger, instead of trying to intimidate him or protect the house?
It’s /weird/. Weird enough that he’s still+
thinking about it, two days later.
With a sigh, he issues a command, voice sharp. He’s slacked on far too many training days, so it makes him smile when he quickly hears paws pounding up the stairs in his direction.
The dogs come barreling into his office, Yoko in front as+
With a sigh, he issues a command, voice sharp. He’s slacked on far too many training days, so it makes him smile when he quickly hears paws pounding up the stairs in his direction.
The dogs come barreling into his office, Yoko in front as+
usual. She’s always been outrageously competitive, has to beat her brother in everything.
They come to a halt in front of him, sitting primly without being asked, eyes trained on him.
Giving them a small treat and some ear scratches as their reward, Dazai turns his attention+
They come to a halt in front of him, sitting primly without being asked, eyes trained on him.
Giving them a small treat and some ear scratches as their reward, Dazai turns his attention+
to Yoko.
“Why do you like him?” He asks, cupping her fluffy face in his palms. He strokes down her cheek for with his thumbs absently. “Why is he so special?”
He’s not sure what he’s expecting, like maybe if he stares into her eyes long enough that she’ll speak up and be like+
“Why do you like him?” He asks, cupping her fluffy face in his palms. He strokes down her cheek for with his thumbs absently. “Why is he so special?”
He’s not sure what he’s expecting, like maybe if he stares into her eyes long enough that she’ll speak up and be like+
‘he’s just a really swell guy’, or maybe she’ll start doing sign language.
He just wants /answers/. This situation is probably one that doesn’t /have/ a clear cut answer too, which makes him restless and irritable.
Whenever he sees a puzzle, he /has/ to solve it. +
He just wants /answers/. This situation is probably one that doesn’t /have/ a clear cut answer too, which makes him restless and irritable.
Whenever he sees a puzzle, he /has/ to solve it. +
Shamefully, he even debated looking up Chuuya in his network last night, just to get some answers. It’s not like he dislikes the idea of researching someone, but he /does/ understand privacy and Chuuya hasn’t /done/ anything worthy of suspicion.
Besides be immediately endearing+
Besides be immediately endearing+
to his dogs.
Which might actually be a point in his favor, actually? Dogs are always good judges of character, so while it’s /weird/ that Yoko already loves him—
It’s not /suspicious/.
Sighing, he pats Yoko one more time before giving them both a bone. They’re going through+
Which might actually be a point in his favor, actually? Dogs are always good judges of character, so while it’s /weird/ that Yoko already loves him—
It’s not /suspicious/.
Sighing, he pats Yoko one more time before giving them both a bone. They’re going through+
then like crazy lately.
Before he can send the dogs away, the door to his office flies open.
The hand on Yoko’s face slides down to her collar, wrapping around the leather and holding her tightly in place as Shuuji strolls in without knocking or even asking.
His office is +
Before he can send the dogs away, the door to his office flies open.
The hand on Yoko’s face slides down to her collar, wrapping around the leather and holding her tightly in place as Shuuji strolls in without knocking or even asking.
His office is +
/supposed/ to be off limits, due to all the damning information stored in here, but considering Shuuji’s track record with respecting his space, it’s not surprising.
Though, he is glad that he’s gotten into the habit of locking his doors and hiding his keys. It does make him +
Though, he is glad that he’s gotten into the habit of locking his doors and hiding his keys. It does make him +
feel like he’s living with a toddler and not a college student, but whatever.
“Hey dad,” Shuuji starts, freezing in place when he sees Yoko between his thighs, staring him down with an infrequent growl. “Are you busy?”
Should he be? Yes. Is he? No. Was he going to pretend he+
“Hey dad,” Shuuji starts, freezing in place when he sees Yoko between his thighs, staring him down with an infrequent growl. “Are you busy?”
Should he be? Yes. Is he? No. Was he going to pretend he+
was if Shuuji had asked before waltzing in here like he owned the place?
...Yes.
Sighing, he shakes his head, silently giving Kozo the signal to lay down. He does, happy to chew on his bone in peace. “No, what’s up?”
“Can we get food from that one seafood place tonight?” +
...Yes.
Sighing, he shakes his head, silently giving Kozo the signal to lay down. He does, happy to chew on his bone in peace. “No, what’s up?”
“Can we get food from that one seafood place tonight?” +
Considering that Shuuji hasn’t attempted to cook anything more complicated than toast the entire time he’s been here, and Dazai usually ends up cooking himself small meals in the middle of the night— takeout isn’t strange for them. “Sure. I’m not going to get it though.” +
Shuuji shrugs, pulling out his phone. “That’s fine, I’ll just pick it up when I pick Chuuya up.”
Oh? /That/ makes Dazai sit up straighter with interest. Completely ignoring the fact that Shuuji didn’t ask him if that was okay, which is normal but irritating, he asks, “is Chuuya+
Oh? /That/ makes Dazai sit up straighter with interest. Completely ignoring the fact that Shuuji didn’t ask him if that was okay, which is normal but irritating, he asks, “is Chuuya+
coming to dinner?”
Shuuji shrugs. “Well I haven’t asked him yet, but I’m sure dinner will be way more interesting that whatever he has planned.”
The simple /arrogance/ of that statement makes him grit his teeth, but he overlooks it for a moment. “Are you actually going to give+
Shuuji shrugs. “Well I haven’t asked him yet, but I’m sure dinner will be way more interesting that whatever he has planned.”
The simple /arrogance/ of that statement makes him grit his teeth, but he overlooks it for a moment. “Are you actually going to give+
him a ride home this time, or are you going to be rude to your friend again?”
Shuuji starts to back out of the room, afraid to turn his back to Yoko. She’s bit him on the ass a few too many times, so now he’s careful. “He’s /not/ my friend. I just want him, that’s all.”
He +
Shuuji starts to back out of the room, afraid to turn his back to Yoko. She’s bit him on the ass a few too many times, so now he’s careful. “He’s /not/ my friend. I just want him, that’s all.”
He +
leaves the door wide open when he goes.
See, /that’s/ what Dazai is worried about.
Shuuji is not the type of person that would force himself on someone, but he’s...
Manipulative. Pushy. He knows what he wants, and he’ll charm and coerce and do whatever he thinks necessary+
See, /that’s/ what Dazai is worried about.
Shuuji is not the type of person that would force himself on someone, but he’s...
Manipulative. Pushy. He knows what he wants, and he’ll charm and coerce and do whatever he thinks necessary+
to get what he wants.
And, because of who Dazai is, he’s in a position of power over almost every single person he meets. It’s a recipe for disaster for someone who isn’t on his level.
Dazai has no doubt that Chuuya could /physcially/ fight him off— the little thing clung to+
And, because of who Dazai is, he’s in a position of power over almost every single person he meets. It’s a recipe for disaster for someone who isn’t on his level.
Dazai has no doubt that Chuuya could /physcially/ fight him off— the little thing clung to+
him tighter than a koala the other day— and he’s fairly certain Yoko would /already/ defend him if it came down to that, especially against Shuuji.
But that emotional manipulation, that coercion into agreeing because tou know there would be consequences if you said ‘no’? It’s +
But that emotional manipulation, that coercion into agreeing because tou know there would be consequences if you said ‘no’? It’s +
just as damaging, just as dangerous.
And Dazai, like most things concerning his son that he barely knows—
Doesn’t know what to do about that.
On one hand, it’s /wrong/, and it does make Dazai’s teeth ache to give him a lesson.
On the other hand, Shuuji is stubborn and if+
And Dazai, like most things concerning his son that he barely knows—
Doesn’t know what to do about that.
On one hand, it’s /wrong/, and it does make Dazai’s teeth ache to give him a lesson.
On the other hand, Shuuji is stubborn and if+
Dazai interferes, he has little doubt that his behavior is going to get /worse/, possibly more violent, and he’s going to /hide/ it.
Which means that Dazai won’t be able to head off the worst of the situations, like giving Chuuya a ride home when Shuuji refused to.
Maybe he+
Which means that Dazai won’t be able to head off the worst of the situations, like giving Chuuya a ride home when Shuuji refused to.
Maybe he+
should read some parenting books or something, but he doubts there’s many books on how to control your estranged adult child.
“What am I going to do?” He asks Yoko, releasing her collar.
Typically, she picks up her bone and leaves him to be alone with his thoughts. +
“What am I going to do?” He asks Yoko, releasing her collar.
Typically, she picks up her bone and leaves him to be alone with his thoughts. +
Well, he muses, worst comes to worse—
He does have /quite/ a few people that are dying to meet Shuuji and sink their teeth into him.
Maybe he’ll arrange a kidnapping or something, and then go rescue him after a few hours, once they’ve had a /little/ fun.
Is that child abuse?+
He does have /quite/ a few people that are dying to meet Shuuji and sink their teeth into him.
Maybe he’ll arrange a kidnapping or something, and then go rescue him after a few hours, once they’ve had a /little/ fun.
Is that child abuse?+
His phone, the new disposable one, beeps with an incoming text.
Grateful for the distraction, he checks it.
[UNKNOWN]: got smth for u -- R
Dazai smiles. He never actually /gives/ Rokuzou his new numbers, and it's sort of an unspoken game between them to se how long it takes+
Grateful for the distraction, he checks it.
[UNKNOWN]: got smth for u -- R
Dazai smiles. He never actually /gives/ Rokuzou his new numbers, and it's sort of an unspoken game between them to se how long it takes+
the kid to figure them out. It only took him three days this time. He's getting better.
[DAZAI]: i knew u loved me<3
[UNKNOWN]: stfu. my place,in 3 days
[DAZAI]: kk
Why is a teenaged criminal much easier to deal with than his own son? His son who hasn't done anything riskier+
[DAZAI]: i knew u loved me<3
[UNKNOWN]: stfu. my place,in 3 days
[DAZAI]: kk
Why is a teenaged criminal much easier to deal with than his own son? His son who hasn't done anything riskier+
than take his car without permission, as far as Dazai knows.
And Dazai--
Well, he's dealt with /much/ scarier and powerful people, ever since he was a kid himself.
So why does he never feel like he knows how to /handle/ Shuuji?
Granted, he is one of the few people that+
And Dazai--
Well, he's dealt with /much/ scarier and powerful people, ever since he was a kid himself.
So why does he never feel like he knows how to /handle/ Shuuji?
Granted, he is one of the few people that+
gives Dazai genuine attitude and doesn't respect him at /all/,but should that really throw him off that much?
He's bean a leader of teams before, so why is being a father, an actual father instead of a sperm donor that provides for Shuuji and his mother and occasionally visits,+
He's bean a leader of teams before, so why is being a father, an actual father instead of a sperm donor that provides for Shuuji and his mother and occasionally visits,+
feel so /impossible/?
He groans, dropping his head into his hands. He's not used to feeling confused or lost. Uncertainty was beaten out of him a long time ago, so now he doesn't even know how to handle it.
It leaves him feeling restless and irritable.
"Well," he mutters to+
He groans, dropping his head into his hands. He's not used to feeling confused or lost. Uncertainty was beaten out of him a long time ago, so now he doesn't even know how to handle it.
It leaves him feeling restless and irritable.
"Well," he mutters to+
himself, slapping his hands on his thighs. If he's not going to get any work done, he might as well do /something/ productive.
Like take a run with the dogs. He didn't go yesterday, and he bets they're dying to spend all their excess energy.
--------
Because Chuuya is a /good/+
Like take a run with the dogs. He didn't go yesterday, and he bets they're dying to spend all their excess energy.
--------
Because Chuuya is a /good/+
student, he finishes all his homework for the first day of class the Sunday before the semester begins.
Then, somehow, finds himself hanging out with Yuan, of all people.
(Apparently it started with her getting coffee at Nikolai’s café and then accompanying him to get some +
Then, somehow, finds himself hanging out with Yuan, of all people.
(Apparently it started with her getting coffee at Nikolai’s café and then accompanying him to get some +
makeup pallets he’d borrowed from her, and then once she saw the TV Nikolai had installed in their room the day before— he /said/ it was a gift from a work friend, which doesn’t make sense to Chuuya but who is he to complain about Netflix access— she promptly confiscated the +
remote.)
Which is how he, somehow, ends up watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta with Yuan sprawled over his bed. She’s reclaimed all of his pillows for herself.
It’s not a show Chuuya would usually find himself watching, but he has to admit that the live commentary /is/ +
Which is how he, somehow, ends up watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta with Yuan sprawled over his bed. She’s reclaimed all of his pillows for herself.
It’s not a show Chuuya would usually find himself watching, but he has to admit that the live commentary /is/ +
funny.
“Can you believe people actually /live/ like this?” Yuan asks, sneaking her hand into Chuuya’s bag of chips. He asked if she wanted her own bag, but she said no. “It’s like going to the zoo except the floors are marble and the water fountains are filled with Fiji water.”+
“Can you believe people actually /live/ like this?” Yuan asks, sneaking her hand into Chuuya’s bag of chips. He asked if she wanted her own bag, but she said no. “It’s like going to the zoo except the floors are marble and the water fountains are filled with Fiji water.”+
Chuuya does /not/ point out that that would probably make her a zoo animal too.
“I think I would be a housewife,” Nikolai says from his place laying on the floor, apropos to nothing.
Who would want /him/ as a housewife, Chuuya doesn’t know, considering he saw him have a +
“I think I would be a housewife,” Nikolai says from his place laying on the floor, apropos to nothing.
Who would want /him/ as a housewife, Chuuya doesn’t know, considering he saw him have a +
burping contest with one of the other boys on the floor literally yesterday.
(He did win though, so there’s that. What can Chuuya say, their dorm is clearly filled with winners.)
“I don’t know,” Chuuya says, giving up on wrestling his chips back from Yuan. “Doesn’t it seem+
(He did win though, so there’s that. What can Chuuya say, their dorm is clearly filled with winners.)
“I don’t know,” Chuuya says, giving up on wrestling his chips back from Yuan. “Doesn’t it seem+
kind of ...degrading to you?”
Yuan sighs dreamily. “For that chandelier, I would let a man degrade me anytime he wants.”
Chuuya is /not/ touching that one.
“I mean,” he stresses, “it just seems like you wouldn’t... bring anything to the table, you know? You’re basically just+
Yuan sighs dreamily. “For that chandelier, I would let a man degrade me anytime he wants.”
Chuuya is /not/ touching that one.
“I mean,” he stresses, “it just seems like you wouldn’t... bring anything to the table, you know? You’re basically just+
a decoration. Another trophy.”
“You’re looking at it all wrong, Chuuya,” Yuan says, sitting up. She passes the chips to Nikolai, who takes them happily. Chuuya is forced to watch in dismay as /his/ chips get devoured.
“You don’t have to bring ‘anything to the table’, and you+
“You’re looking at it all wrong, Chuuya,” Yuan says, sitting up. She passes the chips to Nikolai, who takes them happily. Chuuya is forced to watch in dismay as /his/ chips get devoured.
“You don’t have to bring ‘anything to the table’, and you+
/are/ a trophy. You are something to be fought for and celebrated, and fawned over for the rest of your life. People should look at you and be jealous of whoever /has/ you.”
That’s a little objectifying, but uplifting in a weird, roundabout way.
“Besides, doesn’t it sound nice+
That’s a little objectifying, but uplifting in a weird, roundabout way.
“Besides, doesn’t it sound nice+
to have all your needs and wants taken care of, while all you have to do is be pretty and appealing?”
Well, yeah, sure, but Chuuya is pretty sure that isn’t an option for him. The idea that self value isn’t bought and bargained for with what he can /do/, instead of being +
Well, yeah, sure, but Chuuya is pretty sure that isn’t an option for him. The idea that self value isn’t bought and bargained for with what he can /do/, instead of being +
something intrinsic to him is a little difficult to compute.
His father, probably because he has two siblings, was very adamant about the idea of being part of a /team/. You must be hardworking and dedicated and smart and easy to get along with.
You have to bring /something/+
His father, probably because he has two siblings, was very adamant about the idea of being part of a /team/. You must be hardworking and dedicated and smart and easy to get along with.
You have to bring /something/+
to the team— or no one would want to be /on/ your team.
It’s a little sad, but it’s difficult to imagine that someone would want to be on his team just because it had /him/ on it, instead of what he could offer them.
“How do you get someone to make you their housewife?” +
It’s a little sad, but it’s difficult to imagine that someone would want to be on his team just because it had /him/ on it, instead of what he could offer them.
“How do you get someone to make you their housewife?” +
Comes from the floor.
Yuan leans over, fixing Nikolai with a knowing gaze. “Why, do you have someone in mind?”
Nikolai crunches thoughtfully, “yes, I think, but he does not seem the housewife type.”
“/He/?”
On second thought, maybe that rainbow on the first day /was/ +
Yuan leans over, fixing Nikolai with a knowing gaze. “Why, do you have someone in mind?”
Nikolai crunches thoughtfully, “yes, I think, but he does not seem the housewife type.”
“/He/?”
On second thought, maybe that rainbow on the first day /was/ +
gay communication.
“I have said too much already,” Nikolai tries to backtrack, but it’s pretty clear he underestimated Yuan’s determination.
She narrows her eyes, about to interrogate him for more information, when Chuuya’s phone beeps.
He checks it absently, expecting it to+
“I have said too much already,” Nikolai tries to backtrack, but it’s pretty clear he underestimated Yuan’s determination.
She narrows her eyes, about to interrogate him for more information, when Chuuya’s phone beeps.
He checks it absently, expecting it to+
be a social media notification or the sibling group chat he has. He mentioned that he met a cute boy /once/ and Kouyou and Kyouka have been /relentless/ about it.
But it’s not.
It’s a text from Shuuji.
[SHUUJI]: dinner, my place? My treat 👅
Chuuya’s first thought probably+
But it’s not.
It’s a text from Shuuji.
[SHUUJI]: dinner, my place? My treat 👅
Chuuya’s first thought probably+
shouldnt be ‘is his dad going to be there’ /especially/ when it sounds like an invitation to date but—
Here he is.
Noticing his distraction, Yuan looks back over, and grins when she sees his pinking cheeks. “You too, Chuuya? Who is it? A /boy/?”
He’s known Yuan for a total+
Here he is.
Noticing his distraction, Yuan looks back over, and grins when she sees his pinking cheeks. “You too, Chuuya? Who is it? A /boy/?”
He’s known Yuan for a total+
of three days and she already sounds like one of his sisters.
“It’s just Shuuji,” he grumbles, tucking his phone against his chest so she can’t peek at the screen.
Her grin grows. “/Just/ Shuuji, huh? What does he want?”
He does not like the feeling of being put on the+
“It’s just Shuuji,” he grumbles, tucking his phone against his chest so she can’t peek at the screen.
Her grin grows. “/Just/ Shuuji, huh? What does he want?”
He does not like the feeling of being put on the+
spot, especially because she’s friends with Shuuji. It feels like she’s digging for information, like a prying parent.
But he can’t think of a lie, not when she’s staring him down with those piercing eyes, waiting for an answer.
“Just dinner,” he grumbles.
That seems to make+
But he can’t think of a lie, not when she’s staring him down with those piercing eyes, waiting for an answer.
“Just dinner,” he grumbles.
That seems to make+
her pause, eyebrows shooting up. Even Nikolai stops crunching on Chuuya’s chips, not so subtly listening in.
“Are you gonna go?”
Chuuya blows out a breath. He has class semi-early tomorrow, so logically he /shouldn’t/, and he still has a bad taste in his mouth from the /last/+
“Are you gonna go?”
Chuuya blows out a breath. He has class semi-early tomorrow, so logically he /shouldn’t/, and he still has a bad taste in his mouth from the /last/+
time— metaphorically, though. He’s brushed his teeth /several/ times since the whole ham thing.
But at the same time, a part of him is leaping for joy and drawing imaginary hearts at the idea of possibly seeing Dazai again.
Plus, seeing Yoko again /would/ be a treat.+
But at the same time, a part of him is leaping for joy and drawing imaginary hearts at the idea of possibly seeing Dazai again.
Plus, seeing Yoko again /would/ be a treat.+
“I don’t know if I should. It’s at his house and...” he shrugs, unsure of how to finish that sentence.
Then, because he’s painfully obvious and he can’t help himself, he asks /the/ question. “Have you met his dad?”
“Oh, that sexy bastard? /Yes/,” she sighs, dropping back+
Then, because he’s painfully obvious and he can’t help himself, he asks /the/ question. “Have you met his dad?”
“Oh, that sexy bastard? /Yes/,” she sighs, dropping back+
to lay on the bed like a dramatic heroine, “it’s too bad he’s so cold and intimidating, otherwise I’d have my hands all over /that/ merchandise.”
Chuuya focuses on the feeling of /not/ being alone in his dad-lusting shame to ignore the strange, vicious bolt of jealousy and +
Chuuya focuses on the feeling of /not/ being alone in his dad-lusting shame to ignore the strange, vicious bolt of jealousy and +
/possession/ that tears through his s chest.
Then her words register with him fully, and he’s confused /again/.
Dazai? /Cold/ and intimidating?
The intimidating thing, he can actually agree with, because he is intimidating—
But mostly because of how /hot/ he is, the +
Then her words register with him fully, and he’s confused /again/.
Dazai? /Cold/ and intimidating?
The intimidating thing, he can actually agree with, because he is intimidating—
But mostly because of how /hot/ he is, the +
teasing curl of his lips, how confident and /big/ his hands are—
(Chuuya will quite literally never forget how effortlessly he could take both of his wrists in one hand, and he will never admit this to anyone, but he has /actively/ tried to dream about those hands, pinning him+
(Chuuya will quite literally never forget how effortlessly he could take both of his wrists in one hand, and he will never admit this to anyone, but he has /actively/ tried to dream about those hands, pinning him+
down easily, maybe against a wall or on his /bed/. He mourns that he never learned what his room looked like, if only because it would make the dream more real.)
The only intimidating part about Dazai is how easily he makes Chuuya /melt/ and how those brown eyes make him feel+
The only intimidating part about Dazai is how easily he makes Chuuya /melt/ and how those brown eyes make him feel+
he could do anything,he /would/ do anything,just for a little /taste/,a little /more/—
“Once,he caught me raiding his liquor cabinet,and all he did was cross his arms and silently stared me down like some Yakuza boss until I put it back,” Yuan continues. “Hot, but untouchable.”+
“Once,he caught me raiding his liquor cabinet,and all he did was cross his arms and silently stared me down like some Yakuza boss until I put it back,” Yuan continues. “Hot, but untouchable.”+
Except Chuuya /has/ touched him. Had his hips between his thighs, even if it wasn’t like /that/,felt the weight of his gaze like a brand against his skin.
He frowns. “What does he do?”
Nikolai squints at him oddly intensely while Yuan shrugs. “No one knows, really. Shuuji says+
He frowns. “What does he do?”
Nikolai squints at him oddly intensely while Yuan shrugs. “No one knows, really. Shuuji says+
he owns some business— but he never says /what/, and whenever we bring it up, he changes the subject. I’m starting to think he doesn’t know himself. I tried to look in his office once, but the dogs chased me out.”
That’s interesting and /mysterious./
Obviously, whatever Dazai+
That’s interesting and /mysterious./
Obviously, whatever Dazai+
does, he makes a /lot/ of money. No one in Japan can afford a house like /that/ and vehicles like that without a generous salary.
And from Chuuya’s experience, most successful business owners—
Brag. A lot.
So why doesn’t Dazai?
Honestly, the more Chuuya learns about him,+
And from Chuuya’s experience, most successful business owners—
Brag. A lot.
So why doesn’t Dazai?
Honestly, the more Chuuya learns about him,+
the less he feels like he /knows/ him.
“Whatever he does though, it must be important. I’ve seen Yoko— the smaller dog— take down a man Dazai’s size without a single problem. Probably would’ve torn his arm off if it weren’t for the training sleeve he was wearing. She means+
“Whatever he does though, it must be important. I’ve seen Yoko— the smaller dog— take down a man Dazai’s size without a single problem. Probably would’ve torn his arm off if it weren’t for the training sleeve he was wearing. She means+
/business/.”
Chuuya doesn’t understand it, but he remembers the way she bared her teeth at Shuuji, and he believes it.
“Do you think I should go?” He asks, taking a chance and trusting Yuan with a little more than he might with someone else he just met. “I just feel like I+
Chuuya doesn’t understand it, but he remembers the way she bared her teeth at Shuuji, and he believes it.
“Do you think I should go?” He asks, taking a chance and trusting Yuan with a little more than he might with someone else he just met. “I just feel like I+
don’t belong or something.”
Nikolai nods with sympathy— understandable, since he works at a café, but /he/ doesn’t seem to have a problem fitting in— while Yuan reaches out to pat his knee.
“Let me give you a little tip. If you /act/ like the rich people, they’ll treat you+
Nikolai nods with sympathy— understandable, since he works at a café, but /he/ doesn’t seem to have a problem fitting in— while Yuan reaches out to pat his knee.
“Let me give you a little tip. If you /act/ like the rich people, they’ll treat you+
like one of them.”
“Fake it til you create it,” Nikolai adds sagely in. He’s a little off, but Chuuya knows what he means.
Well—
That settles it. He’ll go.
“Okay,” he says, texting Shuuji back an affirmative, “I’ll go, then.”
Yuan wiggles happily, clapping her hands +
“Fake it til you create it,” Nikolai adds sagely in. He’s a little off, but Chuuya knows what he means.
Well—
That settles it. He’ll go.
“Okay,” he says, texting Shuuji back an affirmative, “I’ll go, then.”
Yuan wiggles happily, clapping her hands +
together. “Awesome! /Please/ let me do your makeup.”
It’s not like Chuuya hasn’t worn makeup before— he has two sisters, he’s been literally tied to a chair more than once so they can play dress up with him— and he /does/ enjoy the confidence boost it gives him so—
“Nothing+
It’s not like Chuuya hasn’t worn makeup before— he has two sisters, he’s been literally tied to a chair more than once so they can play dress up with him— and he /does/ enjoy the confidence boost it gives him so—
“Nothing+
crazy,” he warns her, eyeing her.
Yuan /beams/ at him.
Because she doesn’t carry a lot of her makeup with her, and Nikolai mostly has super-bright face paints, Chuuya ends up getting lightly smudged eyeliner and a double coat of mascara.His cheeks get brushed with highlighter.+
Yuan /beams/ at him.
Because she doesn’t carry a lot of her makeup with her, and Nikolai mostly has super-bright face paints, Chuuya ends up getting lightly smudged eyeliner and a double coat of mascara.His cheeks get brushed with highlighter.+
It’s understated, subtle enough that it’s not /immediately/ noticeable, though it does make his eyes brighter and bluer.
He doesn’t really have a lot of ‘nice’ clothes ever since he moved, but he wears his nicest pair of dark jeans and a shirt that is cropped just short enough+
He doesn’t really have a lot of ‘nice’ clothes ever since he moved, but he wears his nicest pair of dark jeans and a shirt that is cropped just short enough+
to show of a small sliver of his muscled stomach.
He’s making the best of what he has.
Nikolai lends him a dark jacket, and even though it’s too big for him, somehow it brings the whole look together.
His shoes are still his ratty, thrifted sneakers though, and they’re as+
He’s making the best of what he has.
Nikolai lends him a dark jacket, and even though it’s too big for him, somehow it brings the whole look together.
His shoes are still his ratty, thrifted sneakers though, and they’re as+
comforting as they are embarrassing.
“How do I look?” He asks, giving them a twirl. Yuan pulled his hair up into a high ponytail, with a few pieces left to flutter around his face.
“Good,” Nikolai assures him. Yuan whistles through her teeth and smacks his ass, which is a +
“How do I look?” He asks, giving them a twirl. Yuan pulled his hair up into a high ponytail, with a few pieces left to flutter around his face.
“Good,” Nikolai assures him. Yuan whistles through her teeth and smacks his ass, which is a +
good a compliment as any, he supposes.
His phone, stuffed in his pocket, sings with another text.
[SHUUJI]: here where r u
[CHUUYA]: coming, 1 sec
This time he shoves his wallet deep into his pocket so he doesn’t lose it again.
/You never know what unsavory characters +
His phone, stuffed in his pocket, sings with another text.
[SHUUJI]: here where r u
[CHUUYA]: coming, 1 sec
This time he shoves his wallet deep into his pocket so he doesn’t lose it again.
/You never know what unsavory characters +
might find them/, a low, purring voice whispers from his memories. He shivers, a little thrill running up his spine.
Leaving Yuan and Nikolai to fight over the last remains of his chips while starting the next episode, Chuuya makes his way outside.
Shuuji is where he was the+
Leaving Yuan and Nikolai to fight over the last remains of his chips while starting the next episode, Chuuya makes his way outside.
Shuuji is where he was the+
last time, idling in the same car. It’s still not the sleek, luxurious car from the /first/ time, but it’s still nice.
Shuuji grins when he opens the door, twisting in his seat to watch him intently as he climbs into the seat. “I’m glad you finally decided to dress up for me.”+
Shuuji grins when he opens the door, twisting in his seat to watch him intently as he climbs into the seat. “I’m glad you finally decided to dress up for me.”+
That feels like somewhat of a backhanded compliment because it implies that Chuuya’s /regular/ clothes aren’t good enough but—
He’s not wrong, exactly. Chuuya did dress up a little, even if it was more for /himself/ than for Shuuji.
Still, the fact that he noticed makes a tiny+
He’s not wrong, exactly. Chuuya did dress up a little, even if it was more for /himself/ than for Shuuji.
Still, the fact that he noticed makes a tiny+
seed of warmth grow in his stomach.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, ducking his head.
“You look better than you usually do, that’s for sure.”
Chuuya’s smile falters, but before he can say anything to /that/, Shuuji is barreling on ahead.
“We have to stop at the restaurant for the+
“Thanks,” he murmurs, ducking his head.
“You look better than you usually do, that’s for sure.”
Chuuya’s smile falters, but before he can say anything to /that/, Shuuji is barreling on ahead.
“We have to stop at the restaurant for the+
food, and then we’ll go to my house.”
They’re getting takeout? It’s not like he doesn’t /like/ ordering out, or that he’s ungrateful, it’s just...
Well, when he imagined his first dinner date at a boy’s house he imagined a home cooked meal. Maybe some music and a few candles.+
They’re getting takeout? It’s not like he doesn’t /like/ ordering out, or that he’s ungrateful, it’s just...
Well, when he imagined his first dinner date at a boy’s house he imagined a home cooked meal. Maybe some music and a few candles.+
He imagined something /romantic/.
Takeout from a restaurant doesn’t /feel/ romantic, but maybe he’s just being overly critical and demanding again.
“Okay, sounds good,” he says, clutching onto his seatbelt as Shuuji screeches around a turn.
“It’ll be quick. I ordered for+
Takeout from a restaurant doesn’t /feel/ romantic, but maybe he’s just being overly critical and demanding again.
“Okay, sounds good,” he says, clutching onto his seatbelt as Shuuji screeches around a turn.
“It’ll be quick. I ordered for+
you, so you just have to go in and get it.”
Why did he order for him when he doesn’t even know what he /likes/? Granted, he’s never been overly picky with his food, but—
If he would’ve /asked/, Chuuya would’ve told him what he wanted.
He nods again, tongue feeling thick in+
Why did he order for him when he doesn’t even know what he /likes/? Granted, he’s never been overly picky with his food, but—
If he would’ve /asked/, Chuuya would’ve told him what he wanted.
He nods again, tongue feeling thick in+
his mouth. “At least we won’t have to wait long then.”
Shuuji leers at him, taking his eyes off the road for an unsettling amount of him. “I’ll have you home in no time, darling.”
It’s nearly the same thing as he said the last time he picked Chuuya up, and a part of him starts+
Shuuji leers at him, taking his eyes off the road for an unsettling amount of him. “I’ll have you home in no time, darling.”
It’s nearly the same thing as he said the last time he picked Chuuya up, and a part of him starts+
to wonder if it’s /scripted/.
As it turns out, the restaurant they’re ordering from is the same one they ate at when they met, which makes Chuuya feel a little better. He liked their food then, so hopefully this time he’ll like whatever Shuuji ordered for him.
Handing off his+
As it turns out, the restaurant they’re ordering from is the same one they ate at when they met, which makes Chuuya feel a little better. He liked their food then, so hopefully this time he’ll like whatever Shuuji ordered for him.
Handing off his+
gold card to Chuuya, Shuuji sends him inside to pay for and pick up their meals, which /does/ feel a little awkward. It feels like he’s put on the spot,like he might hand over the card only for the cashier to say ‘this isn’t /yours/‘and refuse to give him his food. Or something.+
Nothing like that happens though, and the pure, unadulterated smile he gets when he climbs back into the car with the food in hand—
It finally makes him feel like he’s done something /right/.
He places one bag between his feet on the floor and the other he holds on his lap+
It finally makes him feel like he’s done something /right/.
He places one bag between his feet on the floor and the other he holds on his lap+
securely.
It smells delicious, to be fair, warm and mouthwatering.
The roads are emptier than they were last time, considering that it’s dinner time and most people are at home eating. It means that the drive up doesn’t take long, but it /also/ means that Shuuji spends the +
It smells delicious, to be fair, warm and mouthwatering.
The roads are emptier than they were last time, considering that it’s dinner time and most people are at home eating. It means that the drive up doesn’t take long, but it /also/ means that Shuuji spends the +
entire drive doing his best to break every driving law that Chuuya can think of.
By now he recognizes some of the landmarks and he counts them with increasing desperation and gratefulness, clutching him onto the bag on his lap like it’s going to help keep him in his seat. +
By now he recognizes some of the landmarks and he counts them with increasing desperation and gratefulness, clutching him onto the bag on his lap like it’s going to help keep him in his seat. +
Is asking Dazai to pick him up next time out of the question? Not even so he can admire him or get extra time with him, but simply because he can avoid this anxiety-induced /carsickness/.
Every second in this car feels like it lasts over an hour, heart beating in his throat. +
Every second in this car feels like it lasts over an hour, heart beating in his throat. +
He’s glad that Shuuji put on some music and is singing along with it loudly,because Chuuya’s not sure he can say anything beyond begging him to slow down right now.
When the house rolls into view,Chuuya releases a shaky breath of relief.
Somehow it looks even more intimidating+
When the house rolls into view,Chuuya releases a shaky breath of relief.
Somehow it looks even more intimidating+
at night, with the walkway lit up and light spilling out from beneath the curtains on the huge, floor-length windows.
It looks like /someone/ is home, Chuuya thinks, heart skipping a beat.
The bags are a little heavier than what he’d expect for a two-person meal, but he +
It looks like /someone/ is home, Chuuya thinks, heart skipping a beat.
The bags are a little heavier than what he’d expect for a two-person meal, but he +
manages to carry them without dropping them. He has to kick the car door shut with his foot though, and making his way up the path without being able to see his feet is a little difficult.
Shuuji opens the door for him, poking his head inside like he’s an intruder looking for +
Shuuji opens the door for him, poking his head inside like he’s an intruder looking for +
anyone inside before entering
Chuuya follows, kicking off his shoes haphazardly and then he hears—
Double sets of paws scrambling over the hardwood, headed /straight/ for them. Normally, that’s the opposite of a problem, but Yoko jumped on him last time and he’s still holding+
Chuuya follows, kicking off his shoes haphazardly and then he hears—
Double sets of paws scrambling over the hardwood, headed /straight/ for them. Normally, that’s the opposite of a problem, but Yoko jumped on him last time and he’s still holding+
the /food/—
He braces himself for impact—
Then, a sharp order rings out, in some guttural language that Chuuya doesn’t immediately recognize, impossible to ignore simply because of how /firm/ it is.
Two thumps follow immediately after, and the sound of paws disappears. +
He braces himself for impact—
Then, a sharp order rings out, in some guttural language that Chuuya doesn’t immediately recognize, impossible to ignore simply because of how /firm/ it is.
Two thumps follow immediately after, and the sound of paws disappears. +
He twists his head to look, but he can’t see past Shuuji’s tall frame.
“Let me get those for you,” someone murmurs. Well, not /someone/, Chuuya would recognize that voice /anywhere/, even though he’s only heard it a few times.
Then the bags are being plucked from his grip, +
“Let me get those for you,” someone murmurs. Well, not /someone/, Chuuya would recognize that voice /anywhere/, even though he’s only heard it a few times.
Then the bags are being plucked from his grip, +
and he can see again.
And what he sees is Dazai— tall, wearing a button down with the sleeves rolled up— shooting Shuuji an exasperated look before turning around and heading for the kitchen.
The dogs are sitting, eyes locked intently on Dazai. He waves a hand as he passes,+
And what he sees is Dazai— tall, wearing a button down with the sleeves rolled up— shooting Shuuji an exasperated look before turning around and heading for the kitchen.
The dogs are sitting, eyes locked intently on Dazai. He waves a hand as he passes,+
some hand signal that Chuuya doesn’t know the meaning of, accompanied by a, “you can say hello now, Yoko.”
Shuuji dodges out of the way as the dogs jump forward, excited.
Chuuya ends up trapped in the entryway with Kozo sniffing intently at his shoes and feet while Yoko +
Shuuji dodges out of the way as the dogs jump forward, excited.
Chuuya ends up trapped in the entryway with Kozo sniffing intently at his shoes and feet while Yoko +
jumps and wiggles and licks at his hands, so excited she doesn’t know what to do with herself.
Chuuya laughs, crouching down and trying to get a hand on her as she whips around in a circle, fluffy tail smacking him in the face. “Easy there, I can’t pet you when you’re being +
Chuuya laughs, crouching down and trying to get a hand on her as she whips around in a circle, fluffy tail smacking him in the face. “Easy there, I can’t pet you when you’re being +
crazy.”
Kozo has moved onto sniffing his jacket. After another second, Yoko calms down a little more and Chuuya can finally sink his hands into her fur and scratch at the spots he knows she likes.
“Yeah, I missed you too, pretty girl,” he murmurs, a big smile on his face.+
Kozo has moved onto sniffing his jacket. After another second, Yoko calms down a little more and Chuuya can finally sink his hands into her fur and scratch at the spots he knows she likes.
“Yeah, I missed you too, pretty girl,” he murmurs, a big smile on his face.+
He does notice something different about her though—
Today, she’s wearing a pink bandana around her neck, printed with little white bones on it.
“Aww,” he cooes, squishing her face, “did you get dressed up for our date, pretty girl?”
She pants at him happily, tail whipping.+
Today, she’s wearing a pink bandana around her neck, printed with little white bones on it.
“Aww,” he cooes, squishing her face, “did you get dressed up for our date, pretty girl?”
She pants at him happily, tail whipping.+
Kozo, seemingly satisfied with his inspection, promptly presents his butt for scratching, giving him a doggy grin over his shoulder when Chuuya complies.
When Chuuya hears noises from the kitchen— what sounds like plates being taken out and the clink of silverware— he finishes+
When Chuuya hears noises from the kitchen— what sounds like plates being taken out and the clink of silverware— he finishes+
up saying hello, feeling a twinge of guilt.
Sure, he’s a guest, but his father always impressed on him the value of /helping/ and being polite.
With the dogs on his heels, he enters the kitchen, to find Shuuji pouring a glass of juice while Dazai plates the food.+
Sure, he’s a guest, but his father always impressed on him the value of /helping/ and being polite.
With the dogs on his heels, he enters the kitchen, to find Shuuji pouring a glass of juice while Dazai plates the food.+
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asks. He’d set the table or something, but he doesn’t know where any of the utensils are.
Dazai— and he should /not/ look as hot as he does right now, muscles in his shoulders flexing and bunching as he transfers food— nods toward two +
Dazai— and he should /not/ look as hot as he does right now, muscles in his shoulders flexing and bunching as he transfers food— nods toward two +
silver bowls sitting on the edge of the counter. “You can give the dogs their dinner, if you’d like?”
He nods, skipping over with two eager guards on his heels. It makes it a bit difficult to walk without tripping over them, but he manages.
“They’ll sit and wait while you +
He nods, skipping over with two eager guards on his heels. It makes it a bit difficult to walk without tripping over them, but he manages.
“They’ll sit and wait while you +
set them up. When you’re ready, tell them to eat. They eat outside,” Dazai nods to the door that leads to the backyard.
Chuuya picks up the bowls, filled with food that honestly looks almost as gourmet as their own food does. Rice, a whole egg with the shell, shredded pieces of+
Chuuya picks up the bowls, filled with food that honestly looks almost as gourmet as their own food does. Rice, a whole egg with the shell, shredded pieces of+
some type of meat, and what looks like part of a smashed banana.
God, even the /dogs/ eat good here. It explains why their coats are so shiny and how they’re rippling with muscles— but /damn/.
Chuuya didn’t even know you could /feed/ a dog bananas.
Careful not to step on+
God, even the /dogs/ eat good here. It explains why their coats are so shiny and how they’re rippling with muscles— but /damn/.
Chuuya didn’t even know you could /feed/ a dog bananas.
Careful not to step on+
paws, he maneuvers outside.
Dazai’s right— the dogs /do/ sit as soon as they get outside, waiting patiently even though his every movement is tracked by two pairs of eager eyes.
There’s not a designated spot that he can see, so he just picks two spots on the porch, setting the+
Dazai’s right— the dogs /do/ sit as soon as they get outside, waiting patiently even though his every movement is tracked by two pairs of eager eyes.
There’s not a designated spot that he can see, so he just picks two spots on the porch, setting the+
bowls far enough apart that they won’t fight over the food.
Even when he steps back, the dogs don’t move, though Kozo makes a whining noise in the back of his throat.
“Eat,” Chuuya says, trying to be as firm as Dazai was with them earlier.
He doesn’t need to be though+
Even when he steps back, the dogs don’t move, though Kozo makes a whining noise in the back of his throat.
“Eat,” Chuuya says, trying to be as firm as Dazai was with them earlier.
He doesn’t need to be though+
because as soon as the last syllable is out of his mouth, the dogs are falling upon the bowls with savage hunger, jaws making wet snapping noises as they gobble up the food. Kozo even snarls at his meal before sinking his teeth in, and even though he’s usually a big, lazy oaf—+
It's easy to see why anyone would be afraid of him.
Working dogs are hungry dogs, he supposes, and leaves them to their savagery.
When he returns to the kitchen, Dazai has disappeared somewhere.Shuuji is just leaving with his hands full with a drink and his plate. He's heading+
Working dogs are hungry dogs, he supposes, and leaves them to their savagery.
When he returns to the kitchen, Dazai has disappeared somewhere.Shuuji is just leaving with his hands full with a drink and his plate. He's heading+
back to living room, Chuuya thinks.
Most people he knows eats in the dining room at a /table/, but so far, everything in this house is /weird/.
There's two plates and a bottle of water left on the counter. He takes the bottle, and looks at both the plates. He's not sure which+
Most people he knows eats in the dining room at a /table/, but so far, everything in this house is /weird/.
There's two plates and a bottle of water left on the counter. He takes the bottle, and looks at both the plates. He's not sure which+
is his, so he just takes the one that looks most appealing, following Shuuji out to the living room.
He's sitting on the floor, knees under the low table, and digging in voraciously as he searches for something to watch on the TV.
Chuuya can't help but feel disappointed. This+
He's sitting on the floor, knees under the low table, and digging in voraciously as he searches for something to watch on the TV.
Chuuya can't help but feel disappointed. This+
feels more like dinner with his /friends/ than dinner with a guy he likes--/might/ like-- and nowhere near what he was expecting for a /date/.
Is it always this anticlimactic? Where's the /excitement/, the butterflies, the /romance/?
Chuuya wouldn't exactly consider himself a+
Is it always this anticlimactic? Where's the /excitement/, the butterflies, the /romance/?
Chuuya wouldn't exactly consider himself a+
romantic person, but...
He wants more than /this/.
Pushing down his disappointment, he settles on the floor near Shuuji, placing down his food.
When Shuuji notices what's on his plate, his eyes widen. He swallows quickly, though his voice is still slightly muffled as he says,+
He wants more than /this/.
Pushing down his disappointment, he settles on the floor near Shuuji, placing down his food.
When Shuuji notices what's on his plate, his eyes widen. He swallows quickly, though his voice is still slightly muffled as he says,+
"That's not yours. You took the wrong one."
Well, how was /he/ supposed to know?!
With a sigh, he starts to get back up so he can swap the plates out when--
"No, it's fine. If he wants it, it's his,"comes from the back of the room.
He looks.
Dazai has returned from wherever+
Well, how was /he/ supposed to know?!
With a sigh, he starts to get back up so he can swap the plates out when--
"No, it's fine. If he wants it, it's his,"comes from the back of the room.
He looks.
Dazai has returned from wherever+
he left,and it looks like he went to wash his hands and maybe his face, because there's a drop of wetness sliding down his cheek and his bangs are sticking damply to his forehead.
He looks so /refreshingly/, effortlessly good that it makes Chuuya's heart ache just from being in+
He looks so /refreshingly/, effortlessly good that it makes Chuuya's heart ache just from being in+
close proximity with him.
Struggling to reorganize his thoughts, Chuuya starts, "I didn't mean to--."
Dazai turns his head, making devastating eye contact as his lips turn up into a smile. "I know you didn't, sweetheart," he responds, and Chuuya can feel that soothing rumble+
Struggling to reorganize his thoughts, Chuuya starts, "I didn't mean to--."
Dazai turns his head, making devastating eye contact as his lips turn up into a smile. "I know you didn't, sweetheart," he responds, and Chuuya can feel that soothing rumble+
in his /stomach/, making the floor drop out beneath him pleasantly, like he's floating on air.
"But like I said-- if you want it, it's yours."
Chuuya's traitor mind, fueled by his even more traitor body, immediately responds with a silent: 'what if I want /you?/'. +
"But like I said-- if you want it, it's yours."
Chuuya's traitor mind, fueled by his even more traitor body, immediately responds with a silent: 'what if I want /you?/'. +
And he does, he’s starting to realize that now, because what he feels for Shuuji,which was pure aesthetic admiration—
Is nothing close to the pure /attraction/ he feels for Dazai. Everything about him is appealing. His voice—the way it drips over his senses like molten caramel,+
Is nothing close to the pure /attraction/ he feels for Dazai. Everything about him is appealing. His voice—the way it drips over his senses like molten caramel,+
sliding down his spine and curling hotly in his stomach—, his eyes—which make Chuya feel pinned and admired at the same time, like Chuuya is a one-man show just for /him/—, his hair—which is soft and curly, and he wants his hands in it /so/ bad, wants to grab him by the hair and+
/pull/—
And probably the most appealing thing about him is his /attitude/, the way he simultaneously encourages Chuuya and lets him find his own limits, but there’s an undercurrent of /dominance/ there, how easily he controls and creates the situation.
It would be so /easy/+
And probably the most appealing thing about him is his /attitude/, the way he simultaneously encourages Chuuya and lets him find his own limits, but there’s an undercurrent of /dominance/ there, how easily he controls and creates the situation.
It would be so /easy/+
to fall apart underneath him, wouldn’t it?
Chuuya ducks his head, flushing. “Thanks.”
But at the same time his body /wants/ it, so desperately that not even the memory of ham-kisses can douse the smoldering in his belly—
It /feels/ wrong. Like he /shouldn’t/ want it, like+
Chuuya ducks his head, flushing. “Thanks.”
But at the same time his body /wants/ it, so desperately that not even the memory of ham-kisses can douse the smoldering in his belly—
It /feels/ wrong. Like he /shouldn’t/ want it, like+
he’s /betraying/ Shuuji somehow, even though he’s not sure if this even counts as an actual date, and they’re /definitely/ not dating.
And Chuuya is nothing if not painfully loyal, even to people he shouldn’t be.
“You’re welcome,” Dazai says back, and even though Chuuya was+
And Chuuya is nothing if not painfully loyal, even to people he shouldn’t be.
“You’re welcome,” Dazai says back, and even though Chuuya was+
/just/ telling himself how it was wrong, his stomach curls pleasantly at the approving tone.
God, what is /wrong/ with him? Why can’t he just like Shuuji like a normal person his age? Why does he have to thirst after his dad like some...
Like some /weirdo/ with daddy issues?+
God, what is /wrong/ with him? Why can’t he just like Shuuji like a normal person his age? Why does he have to thirst after his dad like some...
Like some /weirdo/ with daddy issues?+
(Which is not to say that he has anything against people with daddy issues. He doesn’t. It’s just that /he/ doesn’t have those issues.
His dad was active and loving in his life. Very strict, sure, but nothing that would make him like...this.)
He barely even tastes his food+
His dad was active and loving in his life. Very strict, sure, but nothing that would make him like...this.)
He barely even tastes his food+
with how fast his thoughts are spinning.
He does like the crab though, and he understands why Dazai would eat it so often, even though it’s usually not his preferred food.
Shuuji seems more intent on watching his show (which is violent enough that even Chuuya is raising an+
He does like the crab though, and he understands why Dazai would eat it so often, even though it’s usually not his preferred food.
Shuuji seems more intent on watching his show (which is violent enough that even Chuuya is raising an+
eyebrow at it and turning away from the gorey parts) than making any kind of small talk, which Chuuya is fine with at the moment.
Dazai doesn’t come back out of the kitchen, so he’s probably eating in there or at the table. Chuuya’s grateful for /that/, because he’s sure if he+
Dazai doesn’t come back out of the kitchen, so he’s probably eating in there or at the table. Chuuya’s grateful for /that/, because he’s sure if he+
saw his forearms subtly flexing as he used his chopsticks Chuuya’s mind was going to shut off again.
Shuji finishes a few moments before him, slumping heavily back against the couch.He doesn’t get up to bring his plate back to the kitchen.
When Chuuya gets up to return his own+
Shuji finishes a few moments before him, slumping heavily back against the couch.He doesn’t get up to bring his plate back to the kitchen.
When Chuuya gets up to return his own+
plate, he silently brings Shuuji’s plate along with him.
/ Remember Chuuya, no one likes people who are rude or /messy/. /
The kitchen is empty when he enters, but the back door is open, so he’s assuming that Dazai is somewhere out there with the dogs. If he listens closely,+
/ Remember Chuuya, no one likes people who are rude or /messy/. /
The kitchen is empty when he enters, but the back door is open, so he’s assuming that Dazai is somewhere out there with the dogs. If he listens closely,+
he can hear the sounds of running and what might be a ball hitting the back fence.
The last plate is missing, but it’s not in the sink either. Maybe Dazai took it out with him.
Chuuya sets the plates in the sink, getting ready to wash them when he sees /it/—
+
The last plate is missing, but it’s not in the sink either. Maybe Dazai took it out with him.
Chuuya sets the plates in the sink, getting ready to wash them when he sees /it/—
+
/The wine rack/.
It’s not that full, and to the truthful, it looks /way/ more neglected than it should be—the bottles of whiskey and rum nearby are spotless, while all the wine is covered with a light layer of dust—but it’s /beautiful/.
The furniture is beautiful too, but what+
It’s not that full, and to the truthful, it looks /way/ more neglected than it should be—the bottles of whiskey and rum nearby are spotless, while all the wine is covered with a light layer of dust—but it’s /beautiful/.
The furniture is beautiful too, but what+
Chuuya is talking about are the /labels/.
Château Pavie-Decesse. Château Lamartine. Gokan Heights Winery. Clos Fourtet.
All of them /good/ brands, /way/ better than any wine Chuuya has ever drink with his father, and god he just wants to pop one open and /chug/—
“Would you+
Château Pavie-Decesse. Château Lamartine. Gokan Heights Winery. Clos Fourtet.
All of them /good/ brands, /way/ better than any wine Chuuya has ever drink with his father, and god he just wants to pop one open and /chug/—
“Would you+
like a glass?"
Chuuya jumps, not expecting someone to speak behind him, and he whirls around--
It's Dazai, naturally, closer than Chuuya expects, close enough that their height difference is /glaringly/ obvious. Shuuji is tall, but Dazai is /towering/, so broad that he blocks+
Chuuya jumps, not expecting someone to speak behind him, and he whirls around--
It's Dazai, naturally, closer than Chuuya expects, close enough that their height difference is /glaringly/ obvious. Shuuji is tall, but Dazai is /towering/, so broad that he blocks+
out the rest of the room. And if that weren't enough--
His presence seems to suck out all the air in the atmosphere.
Chuuya licks his lips, knees going weak when he sees brown eyes flicker to the motion before dragging back up. The legal drinking age in Japan is 20, and it's +
His presence seems to suck out all the air in the atmosphere.
Chuuya licks his lips, knees going weak when he sees brown eyes flicker to the motion before dragging back up. The legal drinking age in Japan is 20, and it's +
not like Dazai offered to get him wasted on shots of vodka but--
It still feels /dangerous/. The intoxicating, hair-raising, stomach-dropping, heart-racing feeling of breaking the /rules/.
Chuuya grips the counter behind him, trying to play it cool, even as he starts to feel+
It still feels /dangerous/. The intoxicating, hair-raising, stomach-dropping, heart-racing feeling of breaking the /rules/.
Chuuya grips the counter behind him, trying to play it cool, even as he starts to feel+
burned alive by the heat pouring off of Dazai's body. "Am I allowed to have one?"
The smile is slow, teasing, like Dazai knows something he doesn't know, like he just figured something /out/. He steps forward, closer, and the tips of their toes are /almost/ touching.
Chuuya's +
The smile is slow, teasing, like Dazai knows something he doesn't know, like he just figured something /out/. He steps forward, closer, and the tips of their toes are /almost/ touching.
Chuuya's +
breath stalls in his chest, and his entire world hangs in the balance, time slowing to a crawl as Dazai moves his arm, reaching out, eyes locked on his face as he--
Pulls a wineglass off the rack above his head.
"Of course," Dazai purrs, smug as he brandishes the glass, "that +
Pulls a wineglass off the rack above his head.
"Of course," Dazai purrs, smug as he brandishes the glass, "that +
is-- as long as you promise to /behave/."
/Fuck/, that sentence shouldn't be as hot as it is, as /controlling/ as it sounds--
His temperature is steadily rising, stoked higher with every move Dazai makes as he pulls out a wine opener from the drawer beside Chuuya.
Before he +
/Fuck/, that sentence shouldn't be as hot as it is, as /controlling/ as it sounds--
His temperature is steadily rising, stoked higher with every move Dazai makes as he pulls out a wine opener from the drawer beside Chuuya.
Before he +
can /stop/ himself, he fires back, "and what if I don't?"
Dazai hums thoughtfully, pulling a bottle off the shelf. One of the better brands. With strong, confident movements, he screws the wine opener into the cork.
With one quick pull, bicep flexing, he yanks the cork out.+
Dazai hums thoughtfully, pulling a bottle off the shelf. One of the better brands. With strong, confident movements, he screws the wine opener into the cork.
With one quick pull, bicep flexing, he yanks the cork out.+
/God/, he's so /strong/.
With steady hands, he pours him a generous glass. He swirls the wine inside,red liquid sticking to the glass briefly before sliding back down.
It looks like blood. It looks like temptation, and with Dazai's long, elegant fingers presenting him with the+
With steady hands, he pours him a generous glass. He swirls the wine inside,red liquid sticking to the glass briefly before sliding back down.
It looks like blood. It looks like temptation, and with Dazai's long, elegant fingers presenting him with the+
glass--
It looks like /sin/.
Fighting to keep his fingers steady, Chuuya reaches for the glass, deliberately brushing their fingers together. Dazai's fingers are rough, obviously used to working.
For a second, Dazai doesn't release the glass, holding it there between them. He+
It looks like /sin/.
Fighting to keep his fingers steady, Chuuya reaches for the glass, deliberately brushing their fingers together. Dazai's fingers are rough, obviously used to working.
For a second, Dazai doesn't release the glass, holding it there between them. He+
doesn't /quite/ whisper in Chuuya's ear, but he does lean down, closing the distance between them.
Chuuya is leaning up, and he is /definitely/ willing to try that whole kissing thing, and at this point, he doesn't even /care/ if Dazai tastes like ham, all he wants is his +
Chuuya is leaning up, and he is /definitely/ willing to try that whole kissing thing, and at this point, he doesn't even /care/ if Dazai tastes like ham, all he wants is his +
tongue in his /mouth/, he's willing to do /anything/ to get it--
His next words fall into the hot, intimate space between them with devastating impact. "Would you like to find out?"
/Yes/, yes, /god/ yes, he wants to find out, so badly--
Then Dazai is leaning back again, +
His next words fall into the hot, intimate space between them with devastating impact. "Would you like to find out?"
/Yes/, yes, /god/ yes, he wants to find out, so badly--
Then Dazai is leaning back again, +
straightening to his full height,and is Chuuya disappointed that he's not within kissing distance anymore? Yes.
Is he disappointed that he's now eye-level with Dazai's chest, and at some point,another button had come undone on his shirt, revealing a /sharply/ defined collarbone+
Is he disappointed that he's now eye-level with Dazai's chest, and at some point,another button had come undone on his shirt, revealing a /sharply/ defined collarbone+
and hinting at powerful muscles further down?
Absolutely not.
Dazai reaches up again, and Chuuya watches with thinly veiled fascination as his shirt draws taut with the movement, clinging tight to his body for a long, delicious moment.
Then he's pulling down a whiskey tumbler+
Absolutely not.
Dazai reaches up again, and Chuuya watches with thinly veiled fascination as his shirt draws taut with the movement, clinging tight to his body for a long, delicious moment.
Then he's pulling down a whiskey tumbler+
and pulling out a bottle of whiskey-- Chuuya doesn't recognize the brand, but he's sure it's just as expensive-- to pour himself a glass.
He doesn't move away, not even an inch, and the way his eyes don't leave Chuuya's face even as he pours is /meltingly/ hot.
Chuuya swirls+
He doesn't move away, not even an inch, and the way his eyes don't leave Chuuya's face even as he pours is /meltingly/ hot.
Chuuya swirls+
his wine, buying himself time. By all real standards, he should let it breathe a little longer, but he /needs/ something to occupy himself before he does something stupid, like ask Dazai to kiss him.
He takes a sip, making a delighted sound at the flavors that burst over his +
He takes a sip, making a delighted sound at the flavors that burst over his +
tongue. It's deep, dark, hints of pomegranate and grape, and surprisingly sweet.
Dazai's grin widens at the noise, taking a long, slow sip of his own drink. Chuuya has had whiskey before, and the taste is always too strong and the heat it brings to his belly is too strong, but+
Dazai's grin widens at the noise, taking a long, slow sip of his own drink. Chuuya has had whiskey before, and the taste is always too strong and the heat it brings to his belly is too strong, but+
watching the way Dazai doesn't even flinch at the state and even seems to /savor/ it?
Surprisingly hot.
"I knew you'd like it sweet," Dazai murmurs, proud arrogance in his voice.
/That/ makes Chuuya curious. What else has he /guessed/ about him?
Did he /think/ about Chuuya?+
Surprisingly hot.
"I knew you'd like it sweet," Dazai murmurs, proud arrogance in his voice.
/That/ makes Chuuya curious. What else has he /guessed/ about him?
Did he /think/ about Chuuya?+
...Did he think about Chuuya the way he thought about /Dazai/?
He opens his mouth--
"Hey! Where's my drink?"
And like a fucking glass of water from the Artic Ocean, Shuuji once again /murders/ the moment.
Is he imagining it, or is that /disappointment/ on Dazai's face for a +
He opens his mouth--
"Hey! Where's my drink?"
And like a fucking glass of water from the Artic Ocean, Shuuji once again /murders/ the moment.
Is he imagining it, or is that /disappointment/ on Dazai's face for a +
fraction of a second before it smooths out once again?
To be honest, it's good that Shuuji can't see his face from this angle and that Dazai has finally broken eye contact as he reaches for another glass, because he can't help the reflexive scowl.
He smothers the irritation+
To be honest, it's good that Shuuji can't see his face from this angle and that Dazai has finally broken eye contact as he reaches for another glass, because he can't help the reflexive scowl.
He smothers the irritation+
with another sip of wine.
To be truthful, it kind of bothers him that Shuuji caught Dazai crowding him against the counter, less than a foot away from him,and it doesn't seem to phase him at /all/.
(He /knows/ it's not exactly healthy, but /fuck/, he's always found the idea of+
To be truthful, it kind of bothers him that Shuuji caught Dazai crowding him against the counter, less than a foot away from him,and it doesn't seem to phase him at /all/.
(He /knows/ it's not exactly healthy, but /fuck/, he's always found the idea of+
his partner being possessive, maybe even /dangerously/ possessive is hot.)
But Shuuji just takes the glass offered to him with a unbothered smile, and pours himself a /large/ glass of whiskey. A /cup/ of whiskey in fact, even more than Dazai has.
He takes a sip, and his face +
But Shuuji just takes the glass offered to him with a unbothered smile, and pours himself a /large/ glass of whiskey. A /cup/ of whiskey in fact, even more than Dazai has.
He takes a sip, and his face +
/immediately/ twists into a grimace. Then--and Chuuya can't believe he's actually witnessing this-- he /spits the whiskey back into the cup/.
It's funny. Glaringly unattractive, but funny, like watching a baby try his first drink of alcohol.
Dazai stares at him, eyes and +
It's funny. Glaringly unattractive, but funny, like watching a baby try his first drink of alcohol.
Dazai stares at him, eyes and +
expression blank, like he's so absolutely done with life and is in so much pain. Then, tipping his head back, he downs the rest of his glass in one swallow.
(/Hot/, Chuuya's mind whispers, but he does his best to ignore it.)
The next glass he pours is visibly larger than the+
(/Hot/, Chuuya's mind whispers, but he does his best to ignore it.)
The next glass he pours is visibly larger than the+
last one.
"I'll be in my office if you need me," he mutters, taking the bottle of whiskey with him as he leaves the kitchen.
Chuuya mourns that he's leaving, but they view as he walks away is /great/, so he supposes it's not all bad.
Shuuji's whiskey gets poured down the sink+
"I'll be in my office if you need me," he mutters, taking the bottle of whiskey with him as he leaves the kitchen.
Chuuya mourns that he's leaving, but they view as he walks away is /great/, so he supposes it's not all bad.
Shuuji's whiskey gets poured down the sink+
and Chuuya doesn't even /drink/ whiskey, but even he knows that's a sin. He could smell how expensive it was.
At the same time, he's glad though, because Shuuji is (supposed) to be his ride home tonight, and he's a bad enough driver /without/ being drunk.
(If he /had/ been +
At the same time, he's glad though, because Shuuji is (supposed) to be his ride home tonight, and he's a bad enough driver /without/ being drunk.
(If he /had/ been +
drinking, maybe he could've asked Dazai for a ride home instead.
Or spent the night. In his bed--.)
Because his glass of wine is nearly empty, Chuuya allows himself to pour another glass. He hasn't had nearly enough to be tipsy, because the alcohol leaves a pleasant warmth in+
Or spent the night. In his bed--.)
Because his glass of wine is nearly empty, Chuuya allows himself to pour another glass. He hasn't had nearly enough to be tipsy, because the alcohol leaves a pleasant warmth in+
his belly, beginning to buzz in his veins.
Shuuji slides closer, a sly grin on his face. "You like the taste of wine?"
Chuuya offers him a small smile. It's a stupidly obvious question, but he can be gracious."Yeah. It's my favorite alcohol."
With dread building in his veins,+
Shuuji slides closer, a sly grin on his face. "You like the taste of wine?"
Chuuya offers him a small smile. It's a stupidly obvious question, but he can be gracious."Yeah. It's my favorite alcohol."
With dread building in his veins,+
Chuuya watches him take the bottle in hand and raise it to his lips.
If he spits /that/ out, Chuuya is actually going to cry. Maybe go join Dazai in his office so they can drink together about wasted alcohol.
He takes a long drink straight from the bottle, like a teenaged +
If he spits /that/ out, Chuuya is actually going to cry. Maybe go join Dazai in his office so they can drink together about wasted alcohol.
He takes a long drink straight from the bottle, like a teenaged +
heathen, and Chuuya feels like he's watching a crime happen in real time.
With bated breath, he waits to see him spit out the wine, nerves on edge--
But instead, from an outside perspective,he does something /worse./
Lurching forward,he grabs Chuuya's chin in a harsh grip and+
With bated breath, he waits to see him spit out the wine, nerves on edge--
But instead, from an outside perspective,he does something /worse./
Lurching forward,he grabs Chuuya's chin in a harsh grip and+
forcibly keeps him in place as he crushes their lips together.
It's not so much a kiss as it is smashes their faces together almost-painfully. It's /marginally/ better than the first kiss, but only in that Shuuji tastes and smells like the wine.
That's probably why Chuuya lets+
It's not so much a kiss as it is smashes their faces together almost-painfully. It's /marginally/ better than the first kiss, but only in that Shuuji tastes and smells like the wine.
That's probably why Chuuya lets+
it go on as long as he does, mildly curious if it'll get better or if it'll stoke the heat that Dazai stirred in him.
It doesn't. In fact, with how enthusiastically Shuuji is kissing him even though Chuuya is barely responding, lips soaked with saliva--
It's a complete and+
It doesn't. In fact, with how enthusiastically Shuuji is kissing him even though Chuuya is barely responding, lips soaked with saliva--
It's a complete and+
utter turn off. So much so that he feels like he just took an ice bath.
With a silent sigh, Chuuya plants his hand against Shuuji's chest to push him off. Again,it takes too much strength than he should /have/ to use to get him off, but he manages.
Shuuji growls, "What /now/?"+
With a silent sigh, Chuuya plants his hand against Shuuji's chest to push him off. Again,it takes too much strength than he should /have/ to use to get him off, but he manages.
Shuuji growls, "What /now/?"+
That makes Chuuya frown. Why is he so irritated? It's not like Chuuya is saying to /never/ kiss him again, he's just not into it right /now/.
Besides, it's getting late, and he has class tomorrow morning. He wants to wake up early to make sure he's on time and ready for the +
Besides, it's getting late, and he has class tomorrow morning. He wants to wake up early to make sure he's on time and ready for the +
first day.
They have time for kissing later, and Chuuya will /try/ to like it again. But he can't afford to fall behind in class, not even a little bit.
"I want to go home," he says.
Shuuji lets out a heavy sigh. "Already? But I wanted to spend time with you."
A frisson of +
They have time for kissing later, and Chuuya will /try/ to like it again. But he can't afford to fall behind in class, not even a little bit.
"I want to go home," he says.
Shuuji lets out a heavy sigh. "Already? But I wanted to spend time with you."
A frisson of +
guilt runs through him. He /did/ agree to dinner with him, and he spent most of it either in silence or having sexual tension with his dad. That wasn’t fair of him.
Keeping Shuuji in place, he brushes his lips over his, a tiny apology kiss that he doesn’t let go any further. +
Keeping Shuuji in place, he brushes his lips over his, a tiny apology kiss that he doesn’t let go any further. +
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises, ignoring the unsettling feeling in his stomach at the flash of Shuuji’s eyes, “we can go to dinner again soon.”
Shuuji smiles at him, irritation melting off his face. For a second, he looks boyishly cute, with his hair falling in his eyes+
Shuuji smiles at him, irritation melting off his face. For a second, he looks boyishly cute, with his hair falling in his eyes+
and a crooked smile.
He’s... not /so/ bad, is he? Clumsy, and a bit rude, and obviously needs to be taught /some/ manners, but not /so/ bad.
Right?
“Alright,” he agrees, “I’ll take you home.”
Chuuya smiles at him gratefully.
Just then, the dogs come scrabbling back +
He’s... not /so/ bad, is he? Clumsy, and a bit rude, and obviously needs to be taught /some/ manners, but not /so/ bad.
Right?
“Alright,” he agrees, “I’ll take you home.”
Chuuya smiles at him gratefully.
Just then, the dogs come scrabbling back +
inside, nipping at eachothers heels.
Their game is stopped short when Yoko notices Shuuji and Chuuya in the kitchen, apparently pressed too close together for her liking.
Walking over with stiff legs and a still tail, she uses her nose to find a gap between them and literally+
Their game is stopped short when Yoko notices Shuuji and Chuuya in the kitchen, apparently pressed too close together for her liking.
Walking over with stiff legs and a still tail, she uses her nose to find a gap between them and literally+
shoves her way between them, forcing Shuuji back a step.
(Chuuya will never admit it, but he’s a little grateful for that, because Shuuji was still leaning heavily on his hand, and it was getting a bit tiring holding him back.)
Shuuji backs off with minimal grumbling, avoiding+
(Chuuya will never admit it, but he’s a little grateful for that, because Shuuji was still leaning heavily on his hand, and it was getting a bit tiring holding him back.)
Shuuji backs off with minimal grumbling, avoiding+
Kozo, who has settled on the floor, legs spread out.
Crouching down to fix Yoko’s bandana, he pets her head gratefully. She sits nicely for him, tail thumping against the cabinets and tongue lolling out.
“Good girl,” he murmurs quietly, then louder, “I’m going home now.”+
Crouching down to fix Yoko’s bandana, he pets her head gratefully. She sits nicely for him, tail thumping against the cabinets and tongue lolling out.
“Good girl,” he murmurs quietly, then louder, “I’m going home now.”+
She doesn’t understand, but she gives him a warm lick on his hand.
He downs the rest of his wine quickly, and when Yoko sniffs it with interest, he reaches in to wet his fingers with the remaining wine in the glass.
Curious to see if she’ll drink it, he offers her his fingers.+
He downs the rest of his wine quickly, and when Yoko sniffs it with interest, he reaches in to wet his fingers with the remaining wine in the glass.
Curious to see if she’ll drink it, he offers her his fingers.+
She tests it cautiously with a single swipe—
And then proceeds to find every trace of wine on his skin and lick it off.
He giggles. “Just between you and me,” he whispers, “you’re /definitely/ my favorite.”
Her tail thumps again, a secret shared and held between friends.+
And then proceeds to find every trace of wine on his skin and lick it off.
He giggles. “Just between you and me,” he whispers, “you’re /definitely/ my favorite.”
Her tail thumps again, a secret shared and held between friends.+
He cleans up the kitchen quickly, rinsing out his glass and washing at least /his/ plate.
Then, with a quick goodbye to Kozo, who is now rumbling sleepily on the kitchen floor, he tells Shuuji he’s ready to leave.
He pauses when he’s about to put his shoes back on. “Should we+
Then, with a quick goodbye to Kozo, who is now rumbling sleepily on the kitchen floor, he tells Shuuji he’s ready to leave.
He pauses when he’s about to put his shoes back on. “Should we+
tell your dad we’re leaving?”
Shuuji shrugs. “I don’t think he cares, but sure, if you want.”
He doesn’t move off the couch himself, clearly leaving the task up to Chuuya.
He can’t say he’s complaining, to be honest. It’s only been a few minutes since he /last/ saw Dazai,+
Shuuji shrugs. “I don’t think he cares, but sure, if you want.”
He doesn’t move off the couch himself, clearly leaving the task up to Chuuya.
He can’t say he’s complaining, to be honest. It’s only been a few minutes since he /last/ saw Dazai,+
but he’s already starving for another look.
Yoko follows him upstairs, waiting at the bottom step as he ascends and then barreling up after him.
He’s not actually sure where Dazai’s ‘office’ is, but he checks the rooms Shuuji showed him the first time he was here—
This time,+
Yoko follows him upstairs, waiting at the bottom step as he ascends and then barreling up after him.
He’s not actually sure where Dazai’s ‘office’ is, but he checks the rooms Shuuji showed him the first time he was here—
This time,+
the door is /open/. Just a crack, but open.
Chuuya hésitâtes outside. He /did/ say he would be in his office if they needed him, which implies that they’re allowed to interrupt him but—
/ “I don’t think he cares—“ /
Hé grits his teeth. Maybe he shouldn’t? It doesn’t really+
Chuuya hésitâtes outside. He /did/ say he would be in his office if they needed him, which implies that they’re allowed to interrupt him but—
/ “I don’t think he cares—“ /
Hé grits his teeth. Maybe he shouldn’t? It doesn’t really+
/matter/, he just wants to be /polite/ and—
What if he’s busy too? Chuuya doesn’t want to interrupt anything.
Yoko, apparently fed up with Chuuya hovering outside her dad’s door like a weirdo, takes the exact moment when Chuuya is deciding to creep back downstairs unnoticed—+
What if he’s busy too? Chuuya doesn’t want to interrupt anything.
Yoko, apparently fed up with Chuuya hovering outside her dad’s door like a weirdo, takes the exact moment when Chuuya is deciding to creep back downstairs unnoticed—+
To trot happily into the room, shoving the door open, tail and head held high, like she’s saying ‘hey dad! Look what I brought you!’.
A dark, whiskey-colored gaze /instantly/ finds him in the doorway, pinning him in place, taking all the air in the room and replacing it with +
A dark, whiskey-colored gaze /instantly/ finds him in the doorway, pinning him in place, taking all the air in the room and replacing it with +
liquid-fire adrenaline.
They stand there, for how long Chuuya doesn’t know, because his heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s throbbing out of his /chest/—
Then Dazai’s lips quirk up, jaw moving and for the first time, Chuuya notices:
He has something in his /mouth/.+
They stand there, for how long Chuuya doesn’t know, because his heart is beating so fast it feels like it’s throbbing out of his /chest/—
Then Dazai’s lips quirk up, jaw moving and for the first time, Chuuya notices:
He has something in his /mouth/.+
From this far, he can’t tell what it is, but it’s small and black.
Maybe a pen? A Bobby pin? A key to something?
He doesn’t know, and frankly he doesn’t /care/, because either way it’s /distracting, wet with saliva, drawing attention to the fullness of his bottom lip, and +
Maybe a pen? A Bobby pin? A key to something?
He doesn’t know, and frankly he doesn’t /care/, because either way it’s /distracting, wet with saliva, drawing attention to the fullness of his bottom lip, and +
it’s clear Dazai is playing with it with his /tongue/, moving it back and forth, and Chuuya /cannot/ look away, can’t stop thinking about how much he wants to /bite/ that lip, wants to replace that makeshift chew toy, wants to be /in Dazai’s mouth—/.
“Not that the staring isn’t+
“Not that the staring isn’t+
flattering, but did you need something, doll?”
/Fuck/. The words break him out of his daze, but the /voice/ just sends tingles down his spine, the darkly amused tone setting gasoline on the fire that Chuuya has become.
Embarrassingly, /so/ fucking embarrassingly, he stutters,+
/Fuck/. The words break him out of his daze, but the /voice/ just sends tingles down his spine, the darkly amused tone setting gasoline on the fire that Chuuya has become.
Embarrassingly, /so/ fucking embarrassingly, he stutters,+
“I-uh. I, uhm, was just letting you know that I’m going home. Shuuji is— He’s gonna drive me home. Now.”
/Shut up,/ he silently screams at himself, /shut up, you look /so/ stupid right now./
Oblivious to the tension, Yoko moves to sit between Dazai’s spread thighs, laying her+
/Shut up,/ he silently screams at himself, /shut up, you look /so/ stupid right now./
Oblivious to the tension, Yoko moves to sit between Dazai’s spread thighs, laying her+
head on his thigh.
Should the way his free hand drops to her hand and starts absentmindedly rubbing her ears without breaking eye contact be so /hot/?
(Chuuya can imagine it, that same hand, that same motion, just a /little/ higher, between his legs as he watches Chuuya— +
Should the way his free hand drops to her hand and starts absentmindedly rubbing her ears without breaking eye contact be so /hot/?
(Chuuya can imagine it, that same hand, that same motion, just a /little/ higher, between his legs as he watches Chuuya— +
/No/, he cannot imagine, actually. In fact, he /won’t/.
Self control, thy name is Nakahara Chuuya.)
“Alright,” Dazai responds, “thank you for letting me know, and thank you for coming to dinner. You were a treat to have.”
That...
He has to be playing with him, right? He +
Self control, thy name is Nakahara Chuuya.)
“Alright,” Dazai responds, “thank you for letting me know, and thank you for coming to dinner. You were a treat to have.”
That...
He has to be playing with him, right? He +
barely even saw the man, and they spoke for like, 5 minutes max? He didn’t /do/ anything to be called a treat.
But he’s not rude about it. “Thank you for having me,” he mumbles back, bowing his head briefly.
Then, before he can say anything /else/ embarrassing, he ducks out+
But he’s not rude about it. “Thank you for having me,” he mumbles back, bowing his head briefly.
Then, before he can say anything /else/ embarrassing, he ducks out+
with a, “see you.”
It’s such a common goodbye, something that he says almost all the time that he doesn’t realize the /implication/ behind it:
That he’ll come back. That he’ll see Dazai again, that he /wants/ to see Dazai again.
Dazai certainly /doesn’t/ miss the context+
It’s such a common goodbye, something that he says almost all the time that he doesn’t realize the /implication/ behind it:
That he’ll come back. That he’ll see Dazai again, that he /wants/ to see Dazai again.
Dazai certainly /doesn’t/ miss the context+
though, and his lips turn up in a /different/ kind of smile.
“We will, won’t we, girl?” He murmurs, petting Yoko comfortingly as she whines when he doesn’t let her chase after Chuuya.
He chews thoughtfully on the toy in his mouth—it’s essentially just ice on a stick, something+
“We will, won’t we, girl?” He murmurs, petting Yoko comfortingly as she whines when he doesn’t let her chase after Chuuya.
He chews thoughtfully on the toy in his mouth—it’s essentially just ice on a stick, something+
he uses when he’s drinking whiskey. He hates watering down his drink, and it keeps his mouth occupied— and wonders what, exactly, will come of next time.
And, for the first time in a long time, he’s excited to see what happens next.
—————
+
And, for the first time in a long time, he’s excited to see what happens next.
—————
+
Generally, Dazai does not allow himself to drink that often or that heavily. A clouded mind, in his business, often leads to the worst kind of deaths.
Today, though...
Today, he has to make an exception.
His self-control has /always/ been exceptional, far above most people+
Today, though...
Today, he has to make an exception.
His self-control has /always/ been exceptional, far above most people+
he knows. He’s honed it for many years, until his body finally gave into the whims of his mind.
Dazai is controlled. Dazai /is/ control.
So /why/ can’t he get a pair of big, shiny blue eyes out of his /head/?
He feels /haunted/ by them, like he can’t escape. Everywhere he+
Dazai is controlled. Dazai /is/ control.
So /why/ can’t he get a pair of big, shiny blue eyes out of his /head/?
He feels /haunted/ by them, like he can’t escape. Everywhere he+
turns, there they are, bright and piercing and /so/ receptive.
Beautifully responsive. It’s practically a /crime/.
It makes it /so/ hard, because the harder he pushes, the more he beckons, the more Chuuya /melts/ for him, rising up to meet him so perfectly that Dazai feels+
Beautifully responsive. It’s practically a /crime/.
It makes it /so/ hard, because the harder he pushes, the more he beckons, the more Chuuya /melts/ for him, rising up to meet him so perfectly that Dazai feels+
breathless with it.
He wants. Wants /so/ much.
Wants to take that layer of inexperience that Chuuya is hidden behind and strip it from him with his /teeth/, wants his fingerprints imprinted on pale, perfect skin, wants to show Chuuya what it’d be like when Dazai is /really/ +
He wants. Wants /so/ much.
Wants to take that layer of inexperience that Chuuya is hidden behind and strip it from him with his /teeth/, wants his fingerprints imprinted on pale, perfect skin, wants to show Chuuya what it’d be like when Dazai is /really/ +
looking at him.
Because that adorable little flush in the kitchen, then again in the hallway? /So/ cute, it made him want to pin him against the wall.
Or over the desk.
Or on the bed, he doesn’t /care/.
How far does that flush go, he wonders absently, nursing his... +
Because that adorable little flush in the kitchen, then again in the hallway? /So/ cute, it made him want to pin him against the wall.
Or over the desk.
Or on the bed, he doesn’t /care/.
How far does that flush go, he wonders absently, nursing his... +
fourth? Glass of whiskey.
It’s too many. He’s not drunk or even tipsy, but his mind is just /barely/ clouded, knocked off it’s axis and spinning wildly.
After the last few days, his self-control is... not /gone/, but definitely stretched to a breaking point, and Dazai is+
It’s too many. He’s not drunk or even tipsy, but his mind is just /barely/ clouded, knocked off it’s axis and spinning wildly.
After the last few days, his self-control is... not /gone/, but definitely stretched to a breaking point, and Dazai is+
ready to snap.
And why shouldn’t he? Allow himself something? He’s been good, followed all his rules and did all his work, even when it sucked.
Work without play is no fun, after all.
Besides, he’s home. Shuuji is in his room, the dogs are somewhere in the house and—
It’s+
And why shouldn’t he? Allow himself something? He’s been good, followed all his rules and did all his work, even when it sucked.
Work without play is no fun, after all.
Besides, he’s home. Shuuji is in his room, the dogs are somewhere in the house and—
It’s+
3am, the prime time of the night for making bad decisions and—
Dazai is hard.
Well,not all the way, not /yet/. But there’s a grain of heat growing in his stomach since two days ago, when his thigh ended up between two /gorgeous/ legs, and all Dazai wanted to do was press /up/.+
Dazai is hard.
Well,not all the way, not /yet/. But there’s a grain of heat growing in his stomach since two days ago, when his thigh ended up between two /gorgeous/ legs, and all Dazai wanted to do was press /up/.+
Then, in the kitchen, with Chuuya pinned between him and the counter and /eager/ for it, arching closer. His eyeliner made his eyes seem darker, deep enough to lose himself in and let /go/.
(Could he take it? If Dazai /really/ lost control?
...would he /like/ it?)
Yeah, he+
(Could he take it? If Dazai /really/ lost control?
...would he /like/ it?)
Yeah, he+
wants.
His resolve to not /do/ anything about that desire might be thinning during the day—
But now, four drinks in and hazy with exhaustion? That resolve is /gone/.
His free hand creeps up his slacks, finding his crotch and palming the forming bulge there. Head dropping+
His resolve to not /do/ anything about that desire might be thinning during the day—
But now, four drinks in and hazy with exhaustion? That resolve is /gone/.
His free hand creeps up his slacks, finding his crotch and palming the forming bulge there. Head dropping+
back on a sigh, he takes a long moment to just enjoy the heat of himself, teasingly tracing the outline with the tip of his finger.
It’s been a while since he took care of himself, and even longer since he went to the usual club he goes to, so—
He wants to /savor/ this. Draw+
It’s been a while since he took care of himself, and even longer since he went to the usual club he goes to, so—
He wants to /savor/ this. Draw+
it out, taffy sweet, until he can’t take it anymore and he breaks under the strain.
Besides, he muses as he takes another sip, if he’s only going to allow himself this /once/, he might as well enjoy it as much as he can, right?
The rush of the whiskey is in him now, flooding+
Besides, he muses as he takes another sip, if he’s only going to allow himself this /once/, he might as well enjoy it as much as he can, right?
The rush of the whiskey is in him now, flooding+
him with intoxicating warmth, sending his senses spinning.
On the next rub, he can’t help but roll his hips upward, meeting himself halfway. He hisses softly as the increased friction, and he hardens that much further, beginning to pulse under his grip.
Then—
His mind +
On the next rub, he can’t help but roll his hips upward, meeting himself halfway. He hisses softly as the increased friction, and he hardens that much further, beginning to pulse under his grip.
Then—
His mind +
begins to wander.
He expected it to, so he doesn’t bother trying to fight it. Instead, he lets himself sink into his imagination.
Earlier, he’d noticed how /small/ Chuuya’s hands were. Nothing unexpected, considering he’s small all over, but still /exciting/.
Dazai is +
He expected it to, so he doesn’t bother trying to fight it. Instead, he lets himself sink into his imagination.
Earlier, he’d noticed how /small/ Chuuya’s hands were. Nothing unexpected, considering he’s small all over, but still /exciting/.
Dazai is +
/bigger/ than most people his height and it’s both a blessing and a curse.
Obviously, who /doesn’t/ like having a big cock— but he likes his partners /small/
And some of them? Just can’t take it. Watching them struggle for it is hot, but for some—
It just can’t be done. +
Obviously, who /doesn’t/ like having a big cock— but he likes his partners /small/
And some of them? Just can’t take it. Watching them struggle for it is hot, but for some—
It just can’t be done. +
What kind of person is Chuuya, he wonders, pressing down harder on the next grind up. His slacks are getting tighter, and the friction of the fabric rides the line of discomfort, but it feels /so/ good, building him up into something frantic.
Would he say it’s too much? Or +
Would he say it’s too much? Or +
would he work for it, trembling and gasping and crying until he could take it all?
He’d look /so/ pretty on him, around him, stretched to his limit and still asking for more.
He’d make him beg, Dazai decides on a shuddering exhale, finding the head of his cock through his+
He’d look /so/ pretty on him, around him, stretched to his limit and still asking for more.
He’d make him beg, Dazai decides on a shuddering exhale, finding the head of his cock through his+
slacks and tracing the ridge of it.
Beg until he was breathless, until he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, until he /cried/.
Then, and /only/ then, would he give him both what they wanted.
His cock gives a pointed throb in his pants, and now the friction isn’t +
Beg until he was breathless, until he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, until he /cried/.
Then, and /only/ then, would he give him both what they wanted.
His cock gives a pointed throb in his pants, and now the friction isn’t +
/enough/ and he’s hungry for more.
With a wolffish grin, Dazai finishes off his whiskey.
Guess it’s time for the main event then.
—
(The hands are back. One of them has both of Chuuya’s wrists in an easy grip, pinning them above his head. The other is tracing lightly down his+
With a wolffish grin, Dazai finishes off his whiskey.
Guess it’s time for the main event then.
—
(The hands are back. One of them has both of Chuuya’s wrists in an easy grip, pinning them above his head. The other is tracing lightly down his+
side, so lightly it barely feels there, but it leaves fire in it's wake, making him /melt./
Arching his back, he tugs on his wrists. He doesn't want to be free, but /feeling/ how securely he's pinned is a temptation that Chuuya doesn't /want/ to ignore.
The hand holds, and +
Arching his back, he tugs on his wrists. He doesn't want to be free, but /feeling/ how securely he's pinned is a temptation that Chuuya doesn't /want/ to ignore.
The hand holds, and +
from above him, there's a dark, heady chuckle.
"Be still, doll," the voice purrs, impossible to disobey, "Don't you want to be good for me?"
Chuuya nods and nods and nods, because he does, he wants to be /so/ good, he /can/ be good, as long as it gets him /more/.
Held more, +
"Be still, doll," the voice purrs, impossible to disobey, "Don't you want to be good for me?"
Chuuya nods and nods and nods, because he does, he wants to be /so/ good, he /can/ be good, as long as it gets him /more/.
Held more, +
touched more, /fucked/ more, anything.
He wants it all, and as long as he's good, Dazai will give it to him.
Going limp and pliant, he's immediately rewarded when a hot, wet mouth descends on one of his nipples, sucking strongly and tongue swirling to find all the best spots.+
He wants it all, and as long as he's good, Dazai will give it to him.
Going limp and pliant, he's immediately rewarded when a hot, wet mouth descends on one of his nipples, sucking strongly and tongue swirling to find all the best spots.+
"/There/ you go, doll," Dazai says, and when Chuuya opens his mouth to respond, it dissolves into a broken cry when teeth sink into his flesh, painful pleasure spiraling through him. "So beautiful."
Thrusting his chest into him, Chuuya silently begs for more, eyes wide and +
Thrusting his chest into him, Chuuya silently begs for more, eyes wide and +
sightless.
All he is right now is pure sensation, electric heat sizzling down to his bones, the pit of growing hunger in his stomach, a hot-wet tongue dancing over his chest and setting him ablaze.
He needs--
He /needs/--
"More," he gasps desperately, "please, Dazai, /more/.+
All he is right now is pure sensation, electric heat sizzling down to his bones, the pit of growing hunger in his stomach, a hot-wet tongue dancing over his chest and setting him ablaze.
He needs--
He /needs/--
"More," he gasps desperately, "please, Dazai, /more/.+
A grin, pressed to his chest, and the reassuring tightening of fingers around his wrists. A hot, hard, /perfect/ body sliding his thighs apart, going exactly where Chuuya wants him too.
"I've /got/ you, baby." )
--
The water is searing hot on his skin, pouring down Dazai's +
"I've /got/ you, baby." )
--
The water is searing hot on his skin, pouring down Dazai's +
back.
He doesn’t even notice how hot it is, too busy locked in the sensation of his hand moving steadily over his cock, wet.
In his imagination, he has his hand buried in a head of red curly hair, directing his movements as Chuuya places kitten Iicks up and down his shaft,+
He doesn’t even notice how hot it is, too busy locked in the sensation of his hand moving steadily over his cock, wet.
In his imagination, he has his hand buried in a head of red curly hair, directing his movements as Chuuya places kitten Iicks up and down his shaft,+
and his eyes are /huge/, staring up at him steadily even though his face is red with embarrassment.
He’d take him in, nice and slow, lips stretched obscenely wide around him, and he’d make this sound, a little one in the back of his throat, when he realizes that Dazai is +
He’d take him in, nice and slow, lips stretched obscenely wide around him, and he’d make this sound, a little one in the back of his throat, when he realizes that Dazai is +
/bigger/ than he anticipated and he has to /struggle/ to open his jaw wide enough.
Ah, but he’d do it, beautifully well, and maybe he’d help him out by pushing his thumb in his mouth, rubbing slickly over the back teeth. He’d push in, deeper, deeper, /deeper/, until he hits+
Ah, but he’d do it, beautifully well, and maybe he’d help him out by pushing his thumb in his mouth, rubbing slickly over the back teeth. He’d push in, deeper, deeper, /deeper/, until he hits+
the back of his throat.
His hand closes tightly around the tip of his cock, massaging the first few inches to simulate the feeling of Chuuya’s throat clenching and fluttering around him.
The soft groan he releases echoes back at him, and suddenly the shower doesn’t feel so +
His hand closes tightly around the tip of his cock, massaging the first few inches to simulate the feeling of Chuuya’s throat clenching and fluttering around him.
The soft groan he releases echoes back at him, and suddenly the shower doesn’t feel so +
hot anymore.
Of course, it wouldn’t be right if he didn’t /reward/ Chuuya for how hard he was trying. He’d pick him up, slam him up against the wall and keep him pinned there as he takes a nipple in his mouth and suck on it greedily.
It wouldn’t matter how sensitive Chuuya is+
Of course, it wouldn’t be right if he didn’t /reward/ Chuuya for how hard he was trying. He’d pick him up, slam him up against the wall and keep him pinned there as he takes a nipple in his mouth and suck on it greedily.
It wouldn’t matter how sensitive Chuuya is+
because Dazai would /torment/ him, sucking and swirling with his tongue and sinking his teeth in until Chuuya is squirming, crying out, moaning so beautifully for him.
Then, just when he’d had enough—
Dazai would move to the other one, and the process would start all over +
Then, just when he’d had enough—
Dazai would move to the other one, and the process would start all over +
again.
Judging by that /brief/ spark of attitude in the kitchen, he'll be /bratty/ once he finds his footing, so there's fingers in Dazai's hair, demanding moans in his ears, a hot, lithe body bucking and writhing in his grip as Dazai drives him /wild/.
The steam is thick, so+
Judging by that /brief/ spark of attitude in the kitchen, he'll be /bratty/ once he finds his footing, so there's fingers in Dazai's hair, demanding moans in his ears, a hot, lithe body bucking and writhing in his grip as Dazai drives him /wild/.
The steam is thick, so+
he can't tell if his breath is speeding up because he can't breathe--
Or it's just because he's falling into a rhythm now, jerking himself messily.
--
(By the time Dazai relents, his chest is twin points of fire, sensitive to even the brush of air against him. Tension is +
Or it's just because he's falling into a rhythm now, jerking himself messily.
--
(By the time Dazai relents, his chest is twin points of fire, sensitive to even the brush of air against him. Tension is +
coiling in his gut, winding his muscles tight with desperation.
At some point, Dazai must've let him go, because he's got his hands full of dark, soft hair, fingers clenching around the strands rhythmically as a hot mouth kisses and bites a trail down his torso.
The closer he+
At some point, Dazai must've let him go, because he's got his hands full of dark, soft hair, fingers clenching around the strands rhythmically as a hot mouth kisses and bites a trail down his torso.
The closer he+
gets, the heavier the anticipation gets, the more Chuuya wants him /closer/.
Fruitlessly, he pushes on Dazai's head, trying to force him lower.
A hum gets pressed into the muscles of his abs, followed by a quick nip that makes Chuuya gasp and shudder.
"Do you /need/ +
Fruitlessly, he pushes on Dazai's head, trying to force him lower.
A hum gets pressed into the muscles of his abs, followed by a quick nip that makes Chuuya gasp and shudder.
"Do you /need/ +
something, doll?"
/God/, it's the same voice as earlier, except thick with promise, with lust, dripping with anticipation.
/Yes/, he does need something, needs /him/. He's so hard, throbbing against his stomach with neglect, already dripping pre-cum even though Dazai hasn't+
/God/, it's the same voice as earlier, except thick with promise, with lust, dripping with anticipation.
/Yes/, he does need something, needs /him/. He's so hard, throbbing against his stomach with neglect, already dripping pre-cum even though Dazai hasn't+
even /brushed/ him yet.
Nodding with a strangled whimper, he tries to push Dazai's head down again, lifting his hips just in case his desperation wasn't clear enough.
Just as quickly, hard hands are pinning his hips down again, slamming him back down on the black sheets--+
Nodding with a strangled whimper, he tries to push Dazai's head down again, lifting his hips just in case his desperation wasn't clear enough.
Just as quickly, hard hands are pinning his hips down again, slamming him back down on the black sheets--+
black sheets, not blue, not the color he has on /his/ bed— and it’s not painful so much as it is forceful. A warning and a command /not/ to move.
To stay still and take whatever Dazai gives him.
A hot tongue finds the dip of his hip muscle, swirling teasingly over him. He+
To stay still and take whatever Dazai gives him.
A hot tongue finds the dip of his hip muscle, swirling teasingly over him. He+
traces the muscle down, and he’s /so/ close to where Chuuya needs him, he can feel the heat boiling off him.
“Tell me what you need,” Dazai breathes over the spot he sucked on, hot air washing over him. “Say it for me.”
The hesitation locking up his jaw suddenly dissolves,+
“Tell me what you need,” Dazai breathes over the spot he sucked on, hot air washing over him. “Say it for me.”
The hesitation locking up his jaw suddenly dissolves,+
and the words pour out of him, unrestrained. “Please, Dazai, /please/, touch me. I need it, want it /so/ much, please— /fuck!/“
He chokes on a loud cry, hands clenching in dark hair as hot, wet warmth suddenly engulfs the head of his cock, /melting/ his mind.
His hips are +
He chokes on a loud cry, hands clenching in dark hair as hot, wet warmth suddenly engulfs the head of his cock, /melting/ his mind.
His hips are +
still pinned, so all he can do is lay there and take it as Dazai slowly increases the suction. His tongue is /so/ good, swirling over the head before digging into the sensitive tip.
Chuuya’s never been this /sensitive/ before,and ecstasy is pumping through him, somehow climbing+
Chuuya’s never been this /sensitive/ before,and ecstasy is pumping through him, somehow climbing+
higher with every suck, every bob of Dazai’s head, every squeeze of his fingers on his hips.
Chuuya hopes he leaves bruises in the shapes of his fingers but—
It’s still not /enough/. He doesn’t know what else he needs, but like this, the tension only winds tighter and tighter.+
Chuuya hopes he leaves bruises in the shapes of his fingers but—
It’s still not /enough/. He doesn’t know what else he needs, but like this, the tension only winds tighter and tighter.+
His muscles are trembling, fighting for something more, something different. He must be losing his mind, because even as it feels so good he can barely even process it, it doesn’t satisfy the all encompassing /need/ inside of him.
He’s going to /break/—
With a gasping sob,+
He’s going to /break/—
With a gasping sob,+
he gives in again, trusting Dazai to know what he wants, even when /he/ doesn’t. “Please... I need more Dazai, please, more...”
It’s not as energetic as the first plead,but it’s sweeter in that his voice is thick with overstimulated tears and soft with submission.
With a final+
It’s not as energetic as the first plead,but it’s sweeter in that his voice is thick with overstimulated tears and soft with submission.
With a final+
hum, Dazai pulls off with a wet pop, making Chuuya shudder again.
“I know what you need, sweetheart.” His voice fills Chuuya’s entire body, sending shivers down his spine and something warm and affectionate in his belly. “Trust me.”
And Chuuya /does/.)
—
/Fuck/. It takes +
“I know what you need, sweetheart.” His voice fills Chuuya’s entire body, sending shivers down his spine and something warm and affectionate in his belly. “Trust me.”
And Chuuya /does/.)
—
/Fuck/. It takes +
every ounce of Dazai's control to restrain himself.
He's getting closer, building steadily to the edge, and if he keeps up /this/ pace, it's going to come too soon.
Even so, the loss of friction as he forces his hand to slow makes him growl in frustration, other hand fisting+
He's getting closer, building steadily to the edge, and if he keeps up /this/ pace, it's going to come too soon.
Even so, the loss of friction as he forces his hand to slow makes him growl in frustration, other hand fisting+
on the shower wall--
His mind flashes to his fist /inside/ Chuuya, and he turns his head to sink his teeth into his bicep to muffle his loud groan.
The image is too sweet /not/ to chase though, so he gives in.
He'd be on his back, piercing blue eyes looking up at him with so +
His mind flashes to his fist /inside/ Chuuya, and he turns his head to sink his teeth into his bicep to muffle his loud groan.
The image is too sweet /not/ to chase though, so he gives in.
He'd be on his back, piercing blue eyes looking up at him with so +
much trust and pleasure as Dazai opens him up on his fingers.
He'd push back, try to get them deeper, bratty in his demand for even more, but Dazai could pin him easily, take away all his leverage and leave him helpless.
He'd take the first three so beautifully, lithe body +
He'd push back, try to get them deeper, bratty in his demand for even more, but Dazai could pin him easily, take away all his leverage and leave him helpless.
He'd take the first three so beautifully, lithe body +
shuddering with the strain, hands clawing at the sheets.
The /fourth/ though, that's when Dazai has to take his time, working him open slowly with the extra fingertip, then sinking in, centimeter by agonizing centimeter.
By the time he got it all the way, Chuuya would be +
The /fourth/ though, that's when Dazai has to take his time, working him open slowly with the extra fingertip, then sinking in, centimeter by agonizing centimeter.
By the time he got it all the way, Chuuya would be +
strung out, too out of his mind to do more than shiver and shake in devastating pleasure.
Dazai would make a whole day of it, stretching him open meticulously. He'd be aching the entire time, hurting with the need for relief himself--
But it'd be /so/ worth it, to see Chuuya+
Dazai would make a whole day of it, stretching him open meticulously. He'd be aching the entire time, hurting with the need for relief himself--
But it'd be /so/ worth it, to see Chuuya+
finally take his whole hand, up to the wrist, /owned/ by Dazai.
And, while he's there--
He'd kiss him, soft and sweet and reassuring, telling him how /good/ he feels, how /perfect/ he feels, watching closely as he pushes Chuuya's body to the limits and then carefully, oh so+
And, while he's there--
He'd kiss him, soft and sweet and reassuring, telling him how /good/ he feels, how /perfect/ he feels, watching closely as he pushes Chuuya's body to the limits and then carefully, oh so+
carefully, /past/ it.
He'd--
/Fuck/. His impending orgasm starts to climb like a rising tsunami.
He doesn't know when his hand sped back up, but his forearm aches with the strain, thighs trembling as he drives himself to the edge.
He can't even bring himself to care anymore+
He'd--
/Fuck/. His impending orgasm starts to climb like a rising tsunami.
He doesn't know when his hand sped back up, but his forearm aches with the strain, thighs trembling as he drives himself to the edge.
He can't even bring himself to care anymore+
or to stop, staring sightlessly at the shower wall as he imagines slowly pulling his hand out and replacing it with the head of his cock, pressing inside.
Chuuya wouldn't need any more stretching, but he'd make this delicious whimpering sound at the size of him, one that Dazai+
Chuuya wouldn't need any more stretching, but he'd make this delicious whimpering sound at the size of him, one that Dazai+
would swallow whole.
He'd work himself inside in short, slow thrusts, claiming his body and coaxing him to take just a /little/ more, that's it, you can do it, sweetheart, /so/ fucking perfect for me--
The next breath stalls out in his chest, and one last squeeze over the head+
He'd work himself inside in short, slow thrusts, claiming his body and coaxing him to take just a /little/ more, that's it, you can do it, sweetheart, /so/ fucking perfect for me--
The next breath stalls out in his chest, and one last squeeze over the head+
and the tension /snaps/.
Flash-fire ecstasy roars over him, centered in the base of his cock and radiating outwards in sweet waves. He slumps against the shower wall, biting his lip hard to muffle his loud groan.
The orgasm is long, drawn out every time he pulls on his cock. +
Flash-fire ecstasy roars over him, centered in the base of his cock and radiating outwards in sweet waves. He slumps against the shower wall, biting his lip hard to muffle his loud groan.
The orgasm is long, drawn out every time he pulls on his cock. +
It feels good, not the /best/ orgasm he’s ever had, but definitely one of the better ones he’s given himself.
He tries not to think that’s because he imagined Chuuya the /whole/ time.
It takes a few minutes before he comes down entirely, hand moving intermittently over himself+
He tries not to think that’s because he imagined Chuuya the /whole/ time.
It takes a few minutes before he comes down entirely, hand moving intermittently over himself+
to keep the pleasure going until it turns into painful oversensitivity.
Then he leans his head back against the shower wall, breathing in deep and forcibly ignoring the cum on the wall and the fact that he probably moaned Chuuya’s name during his orgasm.
He’s beginning to+
Then he leans his head back against the shower wall, breathing in deep and forcibly ignoring the cum on the wall and the fact that he probably moaned Chuuya’s name during his orgasm.
He’s beginning to+
realize he’s /screwed/, completely undone by a sweet little thing that doesn’t even /know/ what he’s doing to Dazai.
/Dammit./
—
(There are fingers inside him. Chuuya doesn’t know how many, all he knows is that it feels /good/, feels /full/, feels like Dazai is forcing pleasure+
/Dammit./
—
(There are fingers inside him. Chuuya doesn’t know how many, all he knows is that it feels /good/, feels /full/, feels like Dazai is forcing pleasure+
into him with every stroke and thrust of his fingers deep inside him.
He’s left his cock alone for now, and thank god for that, because he knows that if Dazai even /looked/ too hard at his erection right now, Chuuya would burst.
Even now, he’s hanging onto the tension with+
He’s left his cock alone for now, and thank god for that, because he knows that if Dazai even /looked/ too hard at his erection right now, Chuuya would burst.
Even now, he’s hanging onto the tension with+
every ounce of restraint inside him, because /yes/, the stretch feels great, but Chuuya is greedy and he wants more.
Dazai seems to sense that too, pausing in where he’s sucking a series of hickies into the soft flesh of his inner thighs. “Look at you,” he purrs, voice going+
Dazai seems to sense that too, pausing in where he’s sucking a series of hickies into the soft flesh of his inner thighs. “Look at you,” he purrs, voice going+
/straight/ to Chuuya’s cock. “Trying /so/ hard, aren’t you? You want my cock that badly?”
Chuuya nods, and somehow his hands are still in Dazai’s hair, clenching at the words. To prove it, he opens up his legs, spreading his thighs as wide as they go, silently begging for more.+
Chuuya nods, and somehow his hands are still in Dazai’s hair, clenching at the words. To prove it, he opens up his legs, spreading his thighs as wide as they go, silently begging for more.+
He revels in the soft hiss he gets in return. Finally, a sign that Dazai is just as affected as he is.
The fingers slip out, and before he can even miss them, Dazai is sliding up, body solid and scorching against him. He’s heavy with muscle, grounding and firm.
His thighs end+
The fingers slip out, and before he can even miss them, Dazai is sliding up, body solid and scorching against him. He’s heavy with muscle, grounding and firm.
His thighs end+
up hooked around Dazai’s hips, and his heart trips when he feels the heavy, hot, hard line of Dazai’s erection pressing against him, /so/ close to where he wants it.
“Then take it,” Dazai murmurs, intoxicatingly, reaching down to line himself up.
At the same time, he leans +
“Then take it,” Dazai murmurs, intoxicatingly, reaching down to line himself up.
At the same time, he leans +
down, bringing their faces close.
Their breaths mix in the space between them, hot and sweet, and all Chuuya can feel is the burning weight of Dazai above him, the inescapable gaze of his eyes on him, so close—
He leans closer, closer, and Chuuya is rising up to meet him, +
Their breaths mix in the space between them, hot and sweet, and all Chuuya can feel is the burning weight of Dazai above him, the inescapable gaze of his eyes on him, so close—
He leans closer, closer, and Chuuya is rising up to meet him, +
grinding his hips up to feel that first perfect stretch of him sliding inside.
Closer—
/Closer/—
Their lips brush, slick and sweet, and Chuuya pulls him down by the hair so they can kiss /properly/ for the first time, he’s wanted it for so long—
The dream dissolves.
+
Closer—
/Closer/—
Their lips brush, slick and sweet, and Chuuya pulls him down by the hair so they can kiss /properly/ for the first time, he’s wanted it for so long—
The dream dissolves.
+
Chuuya wakes with a pillow stuffed between his legs, and Dazai’s name sweet on his tongue.
He’s still hazy from his dream, sleepy and pliant, and his hips are still moving, grinding messily against the pillow.
It’s not /enough/, it’s not what he wants, not what he /almost/ had—
He’s still hazy from his dream, sleepy and pliant, and his hips are still moving, grinding messily against the pillow.
It’s not /enough/, it’s not what he wants, not what he /almost/ had—
But with another few humps against the pillow, and a strangled, desperate, pleading whimper of Dazai’s name, it’s enough to have him spilling over in his underwear, coming as quietly as he can.
He lays there for a while, enjoying the pleasant limpness brought on by his orgasm+
He lays there for a while, enjoying the pleasant limpness brought on by his orgasm+
and the pleasant aftershocks for as long as he can.
Because once that starts to fade, the guilt and the dread begin to build.
He’s /screwed/. Not even in a fun way, too, but in a way he’s certain will just end in heartbreak.
/Dammit/.
———
+
Because once that starts to fade, the guilt and the dread begin to build.
He’s /screwed/. Not even in a fun way, too, but in a way he’s certain will just end in heartbreak.
/Dammit/.
———
+
“Aren’t you too old for things like this?” Yosano asks, weighing the hair clippers in her hand with a disapproving expression. “Can’t you go to a salon like a normal person?”
Reclined in her chair, with a towel draped over his shoulders as a makeshift cape, Dazai smirks at her.+
Reclined in her chair, with a towel draped over his shoulders as a makeshift cape, Dazai smirks at her.+
“Do you think I let just /anyone/ get near this face, love?”
He cups his hands under his chin, tilting his head and fluttering his lashes like a girl on Instagram.
Yosano narrows her eyes at him, brandishing the clippers like a weapon. “I don’t think you should let /me/ near+
He cups his hands under his chin, tilting his head and fluttering his lashes like a girl on Instagram.
Yosano narrows her eyes at him, brandishing the clippers like a weapon. “I don’t think you should let /me/ near+
your face,” she says menacingly, a glint of sadism in her violet eyes, “it might not be so pretty when I’m done with it.”
Dazai shrugs, catching her hand with his. “It’d be an honor to die by your hand, you know that.”
With a wink, he kisses her knuckles, and laughs when she+
Dazai shrugs, catching her hand with his. “It’d be an honor to die by your hand, you know that.”
With a wink, he kisses her knuckles, and laughs when she+
jerks her hand back, giving him a light slap on the cheek.
Starting the clippers, she forcibly tilts his head to the side, exposing his grown out undercut. She starts at the bottom, shaving off the longer hairs. “Is that the only reason you called me to cut your hair? So you +
Starting the clippers, she forcibly tilts his head to the side, exposing his grown out undercut. She starts at the bottom, shaving off the longer hairs. “Is that the only reason you called me to cut your hair? So you +
could flirt with me, asshole?”
Dazai makes an offended gasp, going to play it off—
Yosano pinches his ear harshly, pulling until he whines in protest.
“No,” he grumbles, deciding to go with the truth, “I just missed you.”
Then, because that’s a /little/ too close to +
Dazai makes an offended gasp, going to play it off—
Yosano pinches his ear harshly, pulling until he whines in protest.
“No,” he grumbles, deciding to go with the truth, “I just missed you.”
Then, because that’s a /little/ too close to +
emotional vulnerability when both of them are far too sober for that, he continues teasingly, “you’ve been /very/ busy with Kouyou and Oda lately. If I were more insecure, I’d think you were stealing my friends.”
Yosano rolls her eyes, folding his ear down—gently, this time— so+
Yosano rolls her eyes, folding his ear down—gently, this time— so+
she can get to the hair beneath. “Kouyou was never your friend,” she tuts, “and Oda would be your friend even if you never talked to him again.”
He /knows/ that, it’s just—
His life is lonely. /He’s/ lonely. Usually it doesn’t bother him, and most of the time he barely even+
He /knows/ that, it’s just—
His life is lonely. /He’s/ lonely. Usually it doesn’t bother him, and most of the time he barely even+
registers it but—
Most of the time, he really only has the dogs, his idiot son, and the business acquaintances that would only call him a friend under threat of torture.
So yeah, he’s /lonely/.
Yosano and him may not have always had the /best/ relationship—they’re far to+
Most of the time, he really only has the dogs, his idiot son, and the business acquaintances that would only call him a friend under threat of torture.
So yeah, he’s /lonely/.
Yosano and him may not have always had the /best/ relationship—they’re far to+
similar is some aspects, and far too different in others— but they grew up together.
It was terrible and tragic and he’d never go back, but for a very long time, they were the only ones they had. He misses that kind of ride-or-die, us against the world camaraderie.
Hell, he’s+
It was terrible and tragic and he’d never go back, but for a very long time, they were the only ones they had. He misses that kind of ride-or-die, us against the world camaraderie.
Hell, he’s+
even starting to reminisce fondly on that one time she stabbed him in the leg for annoying her for too long.
Yosano moves behind him, elegant fingers pushing his head forward so she can reach his nape. He complies easily, shivering at the gentle brush of her fingers.
The+
Yosano moves behind him, elegant fingers pushing his head forward so she can reach his nape. He complies easily, shivering at the gentle brush of her fingers.
The+
clippers don’t start immediately, leaving them in silence for a moment—
He finds out why when long, slender arms wrap around him from behind, and a pointy chin comes to rest on his shoulder.
“I miss you too, Osamu,” Yosano sighs, pressing their cheeks together gently.
For a+
He finds out why when long, slender arms wrap around him from behind, and a pointy chin comes to rest on his shoulder.
“I miss you too, Osamu,” Yosano sighs, pressing their cheeks together gently.
For a+
moment, it’s good and warm and peaceful. It fills some hollow, torn part of him that never seems to feel whole no matter what he does to fix it—
But for a moment, that fades into the background, and everything is okay again.
“You can come back, you know. If you want.”
...Only+
But for a moment, that fades into the background, and everything is okay again.
“You can come back, you know. If you want.”
...Only+
for a moment though.
Honestly, the fact that she’d suggest that, having seen what was done to him, what he almost became, what /they/ almost became—
Logically, he knows that she didn’t mean it that way, and it’s better now. They’re not defenseless kids anymore but—
It burns.+
Honestly, the fact that she’d suggest that, having seen what was done to him, what he almost became, what /they/ almost became—
Logically, he knows that she didn’t mean it that way, and it’s better now. They’re not defenseless kids anymore but—
It burns.+
It’s also just not true, because she’s /technically/ not in the mafia anymore either, so she can’t actually offer him a spot back. She might have some sway, considering how close she is with the boss but—
Even if he wanted to go back— and he doesn’t, because that feels like +
Even if he wanted to go back— and he doesn’t, because that feels like +
a step backwards in the worst way, like crawling out of hell just to jump back in as soon as it started calling his name— it’s not as easy as it sounds.
It’s /complicated/.
He closes his eyes on a sigh. “No I can’t,” he murmurs, “you know that, Akiko.”
She squeezes him+
It’s /complicated/.
He closes his eyes on a sigh. “No I can’t,” he murmurs, “you know that, Akiko.”
She squeezes him+
tighter for a second, before leaning back, exhaling heavily. “Yeah, I know. It’s just...”
Yeah, he knows too. He doesn’t blame her for finding solace in the improved version of their childhood home.
To some people, home will always be home, no matter how much or little it +
Yeah, he knows too. He doesn’t blame her for finding solace in the improved version of their childhood home.
To some people, home will always be home, no matter how much or little it +
changes.
Dazai isn’t one of those people. He’s been trying to find a new home, he just...
Doesn’t know where, yet.
The clippers start up again, and silence falls easily between them as Yosano concentrates on making some sort of pattern with the hair on the back on his head.+
Dazai isn’t one of those people. He’s been trying to find a new home, he just...
Doesn’t know where, yet.
The clippers start up again, and silence falls easily between them as Yosano concentrates on making some sort of pattern with the hair on the back on his head.+
Usually it’s a makeshift geometric pattern that gets shaved off anyways— but sometimes it looks decent, and he keeps it.
It’s only when she’s moved onto the other side of his side, matching it with the first side she shaved that she speaks up again. “What else do you want?” +
It’s only when she’s moved onto the other side of his side, matching it with the first side she shaved that she speaks up again. “What else do you want?” +
Involuntarily, his lips twitch upward. She knows him too well. He plays it cool for a moment longer though. “What makes you think I want something else?”
Yosano flicks her fingers against his head. “I know you, Osamu. Nothing is ever straightforward with you. Spit it out.” +
Yosano flicks her fingers against his head. “I know you, Osamu. Nothing is ever straightforward with you. Spit it out.” +
“I want a meeting.”
Unlike him, she doesn’t bother playing dumb, snorting, “With the boss? You /know/ she doesn’t like you, and meeting with you is a risk.”
He rolls his eyes. Sure, he’s /technically/ a contender for the position, and maybe a few people would prefer him over+
Unlike him, she doesn’t bother playing dumb, snorting, “With the boss? You /know/ she doesn’t like you, and meeting with you is a risk.”
He rolls his eyes. Sure, he’s /technically/ a contender for the position, and maybe a few people would prefer him over+
her but—
He gave up the chair /years/ ago, and hasn’t shown any interest in it since he was 17.
There’s being cautious and then there’s being /paranoid/.
“Besides, what reason do /you/ have to meet with the boss?”
For that, Dazai levels her with a soft glare. “I havé just+
He gave up the chair /years/ ago, and hasn’t shown any interest in it since he was 17.
There’s being cautious and then there’s being /paranoid/.
“Besides, what reason do /you/ have to meet with the boss?”
For that, Dazai levels her with a soft glare. “I havé just+
as much reason to protect this city as any one of you.”
Yosano raises an eyebrow, expression twisting slightly. “For what? That shitty son of yours?”
This is a conversation they’ve gone in circles around ever since Dazai got the news that he was going to be a parent, and it +
Yosano raises an eyebrow, expression twisting slightly. “For what? That shitty son of yours?”
This is a conversation they’ve gone in circles around ever since Dazai got the news that he was going to be a parent, and it +
just evolves into different arguments with new information.They’ve never seen eye to eye on this, and chances are, they probably never will.
“You, of all people, know what it’s like to grow up without a father figure— or worse, an awful one. He might not be a /great/ kid, and I+
“You, of all people, know what it’s like to grow up without a father figure— or worse, an awful one. He might not be a /great/ kid, and I+
might not be a /good/ father— but at least he has one.”
Yosano shrugs, mouth opening to fire back, and he can already see where this is going, so he interrupts her.
“Besides, /something/ is going on in the city. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how restless the streets are+
Yosano shrugs, mouth opening to fire back, and he can already see where this is going, so he interrupts her.
“Besides, /something/ is going on in the city. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how restless the streets are+
these days. /Something/ has everyone spooked, and I can’t figure it out yet. I’ve lost one informant, and another one had his network destroyed. The Rats are moving like they’re up to something— and I don’t know what. I bet Kouyou doesn’t either.”
He can see the indecision +
He can see the indecision +
beginning to grow on her expression, so he lays the next piece, “We can help eachother. She has resources; I have information. It just makes sense.”
Yosano looks him over, weighing his words versus his expression. He’s always been a good liar— to /other/ people. Her eyes are +
Yosano looks him over, weighing his words versus his expression. He’s always been a good liar— to /other/ people. Her eyes are +
too sharp to be fooled by him usually.
And he looks entirely truthful right now, expression open and eyes wide with innocence.
Sighing, she turns the hair clippers off. “You’re done,” she says, referring to his newly refreshed undercut.
By the time she’s put away her tools+
And he looks entirely truthful right now, expression open and eyes wide with innocence.
Sighing, she turns the hair clippers off. “You’re done,” she says, referring to his newly refreshed undercut.
By the time she’s put away her tools+
he’s dusted off his cape and thrown his hair in the garbage. He doesn’t break the silence, content to wait for an answer while she decides.
“Fine,” she snaps eventually, “I’ll see what I can do. No promises though.”
His grin is a privilege to see, because he doesn’t smile +
“Fine,” she snaps eventually, “I’ll see what I can do. No promises though.”
His grin is a privilege to see, because he doesn’t smile +
that often. It’s less rare these days, but still a treat.
“Thanks, love,” he says, “I knew I could count on you.”
“Whatever, you jerk,” she says, hiding her smile behind a scoff, before she changes the subject again, “I wanted to let you know— it’s one of the kids, Sakura’s,+
“Thanks, love,” he says, “I knew I could count on you.”
“Whatever, you jerk,” she says, hiding her smile behind a scoff, before she changes the subject again, “I wanted to let you know— it’s one of the kids, Sakura’s,+
birthday next weekend. We’re having a little party. I told Oda I’d invite you.”
His smile softens, growing smaller and more genuine. “I’ll see what I can do,” he responds, mentally going over his schedule.
The best thing about being self-employed? There are only a few things+
His smile softens, growing smaller and more genuine. “I’ll see what I can do,” he responds, mentally going over his schedule.
The best thing about being self-employed? There are only a few things+
that can’t afford to be rescheduled.
And for his extended family? He’ll make an exception any day.
He just wish he knew that he would be basically losing them too when he gave up the position of power—
If he had known, he would’ve savored them, for just a little longer.
——— +
And for his extended family? He’ll make an exception any day.
He just wish he knew that he would be basically losing them too when he gave up the position of power—
If he had known, he would’ve savored them, for just a little longer.
——— +
God smiles upon Chuuya for one single, measly moment (that he totally deserves, after his /wet dream/ about /Dazai/) and puts Yuan in his calculus class.
Honestly, he was expecting it to be terrible, with her being distracting—
But she’s a surprisingly good student. Talks +
Honestly, he was expecting it to be terrible, with her being distracting—
But she’s a surprisingly good student. Talks +
when the professor isn’t teaching, naturally, but falls silent during the actual lesson. Her notes are pretty, which Chuuya is silently jealous of.
(His handwriting is crap, and he actually has to transcribe his own notes after class so he can actually /read/ them.)
And +
(His handwriting is crap, and he actually has to transcribe his own notes after class so he can actually /read/ them.)
And +
because this is Keio, and the advanced math class—
They’re assigned 30 problems for homework, due next class.
“I’m going to kill myself,” Yuan promptly announces when they step out of the room together.
Chuuya nods, agreeing, because he took a look at those problems, and +
They’re assigned 30 problems for homework, due next class.
“I’m going to kill myself,” Yuan promptly announces when they step out of the room together.
Chuuya nods, agreeing, because he took a look at those problems, and +
/half/ of them have multiple parts. Which means they actually have closer to /50/ problems, due in two days.
That’s only /one/ class, mind you. On the first day.
“What do you have next?” He asks, mentally going over his own schedule.
“Chemistry, I think,” she sighs, +
That’s only /one/ class, mind you. On the first day.
“What do you have next?” He asks, mentally going over his own schedule.
“Chemistry, I think,” she sighs, +
side-stepping a pair of students nearly running down the hallway. “Speaking of chemistry,” she continues, jostling him with her elbow, “how was dinner?”
His face /immediately/ turns red. He can’t even /think/ about dinner without thinking about big, brown, smoldering eyes which+
His face /immediately/ turns red. He can’t even /think/ about dinner without thinking about big, brown, smoldering eyes which+
inevitably leads to the hazy dream memory of seeing them up close and personal as Dazai fingered him, which leads to the memory of Chuuya grinding against his pillow like a damn prepubescent teenager—
Which leads to the memory of Nikolai tossing and turning and waking up at the+
Which leads to the memory of Nikolai tossing and turning and waking up at the+
/same/ time as he was.
(No, he hasn’t talked to Nikolai at all today. He shoves the dirty pillowcase between the wall and the bed, took what remained of his dignity, and fled for his damn life.
He doesn’t know if Nikolai heard. Or /what/, he heard, if he did hear. He doesn’t+
(No, he hasn’t talked to Nikolai at all today. He shoves the dirty pillowcase between the wall and the bed, took what remained of his dignity, and fled for his damn life.
He doesn’t know if Nikolai heard. Or /what/, he heard, if he did hear. He doesn’t+
even know what /he/ said, except for the stuff at the very end there.
How is he supposed to ask him, anyways? Go up to him like ‘hey, did you hear my sex dream? Oh you didn’t? Cool, good talk.’?
‘Oh you /did/? Mind not mentioning to our mutual friend that I was moaning his +
How is he supposed to ask him, anyways? Go up to him like ‘hey, did you hear my sex dream? Oh you didn’t? Cool, good talk.’?
‘Oh you /did/? Mind not mentioning to our mutual friend that I was moaning his +
dad’s name into my pillow like a pornstar? Thanks, you’re a good friend’?
It’s day 1 of college and he wants to /die/. )
“Fine,” he mutters, “nothing really happened.”
Yuan casts him a knowing look, lips curling into a smirk. “Oh? Did you at least kiss?”
Well. Technically,+
It’s day 1 of college and he wants to /die/. )
“Fine,” he mutters, “nothing really happened.”
Yuan casts him a knowing look, lips curling into a smirk. “Oh? Did you at least kiss?”
Well. Technically,+
he was kissed. He didn’t kiss /back/, though, so he’s not exactly sure where that lies on the scale.
“Yeah,” he ends up going with, shrugging his shoulders like it’s not a big deal. And it’s not—
So why is talking about it filling him with the slow, creeping filling of anxiety+
“Yeah,” he ends up going with, shrugging his shoulders like it’s not a big deal. And it’s not—
So why is talking about it filling him with the slow, creeping filling of anxiety+
and something that feels like /shame/?
It has nothing to do with his complicated interest to Dazai. He just does /not/ want to discuss kissing Shuuji. It's not because he's /shy/, but more because he feels...ashamed?
Confused?
He doesn't even know. He feels like he doesn't+
It has nothing to do with his complicated interest to Dazai. He just does /not/ want to discuss kissing Shuuji. It's not because he's /shy/, but more because he feels...ashamed?
Confused?
He doesn't even know. He feels like he doesn't+
know /anything/ these days.
Luckily,before he's forced to discuss the /kissing/ any further, he lays eyes on something interesting in the courtyard.
It's a faded statue,of a student with a book open in their hands and what looks like a bookbag at their side. As he gets closer,+
Luckily,before he's forced to discuss the /kissing/ any further, he lays eyes on something interesting in the courtyard.
It's a faded statue,of a student with a book open in their hands and what looks like a bookbag at their side. As he gets closer,+
he notices that the statue's eyes are closed. Odd, considering that it's supposed to look like they're reading.
He stops to read the inscription, but it's been rubbed out by the sheer amount of people running their fingers over it.
"Do you know what this is for?" He asks, +
He stops to read the inscription, but it's been rubbed out by the sheer amount of people running their fingers over it.
"Do you know what this is for?" He asks, +
gesturing.
Yuan pauses,and she looks oddly solemn as she looks up at the statue. Her hand is tight on her shoulder bag. "The rumor is, twenty years ago, the old dean of the college was in a war with the Port Mafia. They're the most powerful Yakuza clan on this side of Japan, so+
Yuan pauses,and she looks oddly solemn as she looks up at the statue. Her hand is tight on her shoulder bag. "The rumor is, twenty years ago, the old dean of the college was in a war with the Port Mafia. They're the most powerful Yakuza clan on this side of Japan, so+
obviously they didn’t like that.”
It’s too early in the year for spooky stories, but Chuuya swears the temperature drops, the windchill suddenly cutting through his jacket, straight to his bones.
“So when they heard that the dean was going to the police with evidence against+
It’s too early in the year for spooky stories, but Chuuya swears the temperature drops, the windchill suddenly cutting through his jacket, straight to his bones.
“So when they heard that the dean was going to the police with evidence against+
them... they gathered up the dean and a handful of students, and /executed/ them.”
So it’s a memorial to the lost lives then? That doesn’t make sense to Chuuya, considering that the yakuza wouldn’t want their carnage publicly displayed and remembered like this.
He frowns. “If+
So it’s a memorial to the lost lives then? That doesn’t make sense to Chuuya, considering that the yakuza wouldn’t want their carnage publicly displayed and remembered like this.
He frowns. “If+
it only happened 20 years ago, why is it only a rumor?”
Technology wasn’t /that/ 20 years ago, and if they had enough evidence to make a memorial, surely they had enough to confirm the story?
Yuan shrugs. “Well, if you look up the story, all you’ll find is a story of a fire+
Technology wasn’t /that/ 20 years ago, and if they had enough evidence to make a memorial, surely they had enough to confirm the story?
Yuan shrugs. “Well, if you look up the story, all you’ll find is a story of a fire+
in the original building.”
His eyebrows shoot up. It sounds like some tragedy that was turned into more anti-Yakuza campaign, to him.
(Not that the yakuza don’t need a campaign against them, but there’s something terribly disrespectful about spinning a tragedy into something+
His eyebrows shoot up. It sounds like some tragedy that was turned into more anti-Yakuza campaign, to him.
(Not that the yakuza don’t need a campaign against them, but there’s something terribly disrespectful about spinning a tragedy into something+
that benefits the government.)
Yuan wiggles her fingers at him, like she’s demonstrating something scary. “Be careful you don’t look too closely though;if you get too close to the truth, the Demon Prodigy will find you first~.”
Chuuya snorts. “‘The demon prodigy’? What kind of+
Yuan wiggles her fingers at him, like she’s demonstrating something scary. “Be careful you don’t look too closely though;if you get too close to the truth, the Demon Prodigy will find you first~.”
Chuuya snorts. “‘The demon prodigy’? What kind of+
nickname is /that/?”
Yuan laughs, shrugging a little. “Apparently he was some crazy yakuza person, raised a lot of hell and killed a bunch of people. Guess he was in line to rule the city— but then one day he just disappeared and no one’s heard anything since.”
Chuuya stares+
Yuan laughs, shrugging a little. “Apparently he was some crazy yakuza person, raised a lot of hell and killed a bunch of people. Guess he was in line to rule the city— but then one day he just disappeared and no one’s heard anything since.”
Chuuya stares+
at her, expression deadpan. “Did you just tell me a ghost story?”
“Not a ghost story,” Yuan corrects, making a face at him, “I didn’t say he was /dead/. Who knows, maybe he’s out there, watching. Waiting. Hunting.”
Her smile widens,and for a moment, it looks twisted and sharp,+
“Not a ghost story,” Yuan corrects, making a face at him, “I didn’t say he was /dead/. Who knows, maybe he’s out there, watching. Waiting. Hunting.”
Her smile widens,and for a moment, it looks twisted and sharp,+
unhinged. “And who knows, Chuuya? Maybe /you’ll/ be next.”
Yeah, right.
“Sounds like some story to keep kids in line,” he brushes it off, “and besides; if he was active 20 years ago, how old would he be now? Old as fuck? Grandpa demon prodigy? I’m terrified.”
— +
Yeah, right.
“Sounds like some story to keep kids in line,” he brushes it off, “and besides; if he was active 20 years ago, how old would he be now? Old as fuck? Grandpa demon prodigy? I’m terrified.”
— +
The first week goes by surprisingly quietly. He gets assigned a couple of hours of homework for each class, which should be illegal considering he’s a full-time student and taking 6 classes, but he makes it work.
The calculus gets knocked out pretty quickly with Yuan as a +
The calculus gets knocked out pretty quickly with Yuan as a +
study partner. They make a good team; usually, whatever she doesn’t understand he does and vice versa. It makes the work go by quickly and less terribly than it would otherwise.
(He /does/ end up looking into the memorial story, just for kicks. Like Yuan said, he only finds+
(He /does/ end up looking into the memorial story, just for kicks. Like Yuan said, he only finds+
the news articles of a fire. Assuringly started by underage smoking, and by the time it was reported, the fire had grown out of control.
Tragically, there were 7 deaths. No sign of Yakuza activity.
He /does/ end up lingering on the page for a while, and clicking onto several+
Tragically, there were 7 deaths. No sign of Yakuza activity.
He /does/ end up lingering on the page for a while, and clicking onto several+
articles just to tempt his fate.
No antiquated demon prodigy jumps out at him, so he firmly slates the story as a spooky story, and moves on with his life.)
Things with Shuuji are...surprisingly peaceful. They’re both busy and even though Shuuji isn’t the /best/ student, he+
No antiquated demon prodigy jumps out at him, so he firmly slates the story as a spooky story, and moves on with his life.)
Things with Shuuji are...surprisingly peaceful. They’re both busy and even though Shuuji isn’t the /best/ student, he+
does take his coursework mostly seriously.
Which means that beyond casual, daily texting and shared Snapchat streaks—they don’t really see eachother for the week.
They managed to get a quick coffee together once, which was cut short when Shuuji received a Snap notification and+
Which means that beyond casual, daily texting and shared Snapchat streaks—they don’t really see eachother for the week.
They managed to get a quick coffee together once, which was cut short when Shuuji received a Snap notification and+
had to rush out.
Since they have different majors, and Shuuji chose to put off his math classes for another year, studying together isn’t really useful.
Chuuya mourns that silently, because he always found the romantic study sessions in movies kind of /cute/, but it’s fine. +
Since they have different majors, and Shuuji chose to put off his math classes for another year, studying together isn’t really useful.
Chuuya mourns that silently, because he always found the romantic study sessions in movies kind of /cute/, but it’s fine. +
He has Yuan anyways, who he's becoming pretty close with, which is pretty nice. He hasn't had a girl best friend in a while, and it's refreshing to experience.
Along the way, Chuuya has been retrying the whole /kissing/ thing. After a week of quick fumbles in alleyways and +
Along the way, Chuuya has been retrying the whole /kissing/ thing. After a week of quick fumbles in alleyways and +
being pressed up against walls, he's decided on a few things.
He doesn't mind--actually kind of /likes/-- the quick pecks, the ones Shuuji gives him when he's leaving or saying a quick hello. They're quick, with no expectations, and just a general expression of affection, which+
He doesn't mind--actually kind of /likes/-- the quick pecks, the ones Shuuji gives him when he's leaving or saying a quick hello. They're quick, with no expectations, and just a general expression of affection, which+
makes him feel warm and giddy inside.
(He's always been a physically affectionate person. He hadn't realized how much he missed the simple reassurance that contact brought him.)
It's when Shuuji gets.../excited/ that Chuuya starts to feel a bit uncomfortable. /Those/ have +
(He's always been a physically affectionate person. He hadn't realized how much he missed the simple reassurance that contact brought him.)
It's when Shuuji gets.../excited/ that Chuuya starts to feel a bit uncomfortable. /Those/ have +
expectations, and he kisses Chuuya like he's demanding more, like he's pressing the heavy weight of his want onto Chuuya and expecting an equal response.
Truthfully, he still doesn't know how to /respond/ to those kisses, especially the ones where Shuuji pins him up against +
Truthfully, he still doesn't know how to /respond/ to those kisses, especially the ones where Shuuji pins him up against +
a hard surface or when he surprises Chuuya in the middle of his sentence with a deep kiss.
He's trying though, and he thinks he's getting better at it. It takes him longer to get uncomfortable now, and he even does his best to kiss him back. He's probably clumsy, but sometimes +
He's trying though, and he thinks he's getting better at it. It takes him longer to get uncomfortable now, and he even does his best to kiss him back. He's probably clumsy, but sometimes +
he manages to pull a breathy noise from Shuuji's chest, which makes him thrill in victory.
And the fact that he /can/ enjoy kissing-- even if it's hard, even if he still doesn't get the whole 'desperate for more, kissing for hours' concept that romance movies sell-- makes him +
And the fact that he /can/ enjoy kissing-- even if it's hard, even if he still doesn't get the whole 'desperate for more, kissing for hours' concept that romance movies sell-- makes him +
feel /normal/. Like /he/ can be normal.
Maybe not liking to kiss is normal, but when society places so much value on finding a partner and /doing/ things with them, the idea that he might not be like /most/ of the population--
It's scary. He wants to fit in. He wants to like+
Maybe not liking to kiss is normal, but when society places so much value on finding a partner and /doing/ things with them, the idea that he might not be like /most/ of the population--
It's scary. He wants to fit in. He wants to like+
Shuuji.
He wants to like kissing him. He wants to want to do something /more/ with him, someday.
So whenever that weird pit of anxiety and insecurity begins to bubble up inside him, he breathes through it until it settles back down again.
He can do this, he just has to /work/+
He wants to like kissing him. He wants to want to do something /more/ with him, someday.
So whenever that weird pit of anxiety and insecurity begins to bubble up inside him, he breathes through it until it settles back down again.
He can do this, he just has to /work/+
for it.
So when Shuuji invites him over to his house so they can watch movies together? He agrees, feeling determined.
He's /going/ to kiss Shuuji--or rather, let him kiss Chuuya, because almost all of the kisses are initiated by Shuuji, mostly by surprise--and he's /going/ to+
So when Shuuji invites him over to his house so they can watch movies together? He agrees, feeling determined.
He's /going/ to kiss Shuuji--or rather, let him kiss Chuuya, because almost all of the kisses are initiated by Shuuji, mostly by surprise--and he's /going/ to+
like it.
(Or at least not push him off after a few moments. He'll settle for tolerance, at this point in time.
And he's /not/ going to think about Dazai. Not once, not at all.)
Before he can go on Saturday, he has to finish most of his assigned work for the week, so he spends+
(Or at least not push him off after a few moments. He'll settle for tolerance, at this point in time.
And he's /not/ going to think about Dazai. Not once, not at all.)
Before he can go on Saturday, he has to finish most of his assigned work for the week, so he spends+
the morning in the library with a big cup of coffee and his textbooks.
The lunch break he takes ends up taking longer than he expected, because his dad FaceTimes him, with Kyouka squished up beside him. He missed talking to them, and they're endearingly excited over the few+
The lunch break he takes ends up taking longer than he expected, because his dad FaceTimes him, with Kyouka squished up beside him. He missed talking to them, and they're endearingly excited over the few+
stories he tells them about Yuan and Nikolai.
(Speaking of Nikolai, they haven't talked about ... /it/. He's not sure if that's because there's nothing /to/ talk about, or if they're both just avoiding the subject, but either way, it's made the dorm a little tense and awkward+
(Speaking of Nikolai, they haven't talked about ... /it/. He's not sure if that's because there's nothing /to/ talk about, or if they're both just avoiding the subject, but either way, it's made the dorm a little tense and awkward+
to be in.
At least for him. Nikolai seems /fine/, so maybe he's just overthinking it.)
He doesn't tell them about Shuuji. He's not sure why /not/, really, only that he /really/ doesn't want to go into the way he's feeling about him and the struggle he has regarding that +
At least for him. Nikolai seems /fine/, so maybe he's just overthinking it.)
He doesn't tell them about Shuuji. He's not sure why /not/, really, only that he /really/ doesn't want to go into the way he's feeling about him and the struggle he has regarding that +
whole situation.
Still, even with the distraction, he manages to finish most of his work--minus the case readings for his prerequisite biology class-- with a couple of hours to spare before Shuuji is scheduled to pick him up.
They decided on watching a movie later in the +
Still, even with the distraction, he manages to finish most of his work--minus the case readings for his prerequisite biology class-- with a couple of hours to spare before Shuuji is scheduled to pick him up.
They decided on watching a movie later in the +
evening, to give them both time to do their work beforehand, and as a way to make up for the dinner that Chuuya messed up the last time.
Two birds, one stone, as it were.
Nikolai is off at his job, so he has the entire dorm to get ready. He spends most of the that time doing +
Two birds, one stone, as it were.
Nikolai is off at his job, so he has the entire dorm to get ready. He spends most of the that time doing +
his hair, wrapping strands around a curling iron to make them bouncier, loosely pinning his bangs back to expose his face while still having wispy strands float around his face.
He leaves off the makeup today, other than touching up his eyelashes with mascara-- his lashes are+
He leaves off the makeup today, other than touching up his eyelashes with mascara-- his lashes are+
naturally a light orangey-red, so it's hard to see them.
Twenty minutes before the meet-up time, he texts Shuuji to let him know that he's ready. His dad always said that being early shows initiative and what better way to show enthusiasm than being ready for their date almost+
Twenty minutes before the meet-up time, he texts Shuuji to let him know that he's ready. His dad always said that being early shows initiative and what better way to show enthusiasm than being ready for their date almost+
half an hour early?
Shuuji doesn't text him back though, so he doesn't pull on his shoes and head downstairs until five minutes before they're supposed to meet.
They have an unofficial meeting spot now, where Shuuji dropped him off the night they first met, so he makes his way+
Shuuji doesn't text him back though, so he doesn't pull on his shoes and head downstairs until five minutes before they're supposed to meet.
They have an unofficial meeting spot now, where Shuuji dropped him off the night they first met, so he makes his way+
there, wallet shoved into the pocket of his jacket.
He sits on the bench, checking his phone for texts or calls. None.
He waits.
And waits.
Five minutes pass. Ten.
Fifteen.
Is he late? He's driving, so maybe he just hit some traffic and couldn't text to let him know?+
He sits on the bench, checking his phone for texts or calls. None.
He waits.
And waits.
Five minutes pass. Ten.
Fifteen.
Is he late? He's driving, so maybe he just hit some traffic and couldn't text to let him know?+
(He ignores the fact that he’s seen Shuuji text while driving more than once.)
Something just ran late, Chuuya reassures himself, shooting off another text. He lost track of time while doing homework or something.
Twenty minutes pass.
...Did he forget? Or did he not /care/?+
Something just ran late, Chuuya reassures himself, shooting off another text. He lost track of time while doing homework or something.
Twenty minutes pass.
...Did he forget? Or did he not /care/?+
Hurt and confusion and anger knot in Chuuya’s chest, tangling together so tightly together he’s not sure if he wants to get /mad/ at being left to wait, or if he wants to /cry/—
Clenching his teeth to fight back his reaction, he sends one more text. If he’s not here in five +
Clenching his teeth to fight back his reaction, he sends one more text. If he’s not here in five +
more minutes, then he’ll go back inside.
[CHUUYA]: ??????? Where are you?? Are you not coming???
And just when Chuuya is about to take what remains of his pride and dignity back to the dorm to cry about it—
The car pulls up in front of him, honking obnoxiously like /Chuuya/+
[CHUUYA]: ??????? Where are you?? Are you not coming???
And just when Chuuya is about to take what remains of his pride and dignity back to the dorm to cry about it—
The car pulls up in front of him, honking obnoxiously like /Chuuya/+
is the one that’s nearly 30 minutes late without communicating.
He stomps over, ready to give Shuuji a piece of his mind—
But when he yanks open the door, he’s greeted with a dazzling smile, brown eyes wide and innocent and begging for forgiveness, and a messy head of hair +
He stomps over, ready to give Shuuji a piece of his mind—
But when he yanks open the door, he’s greeted with a dazzling smile, brown eyes wide and innocent and begging for forgiveness, and a messy head of hair +
that looks like fingers have been running through it.
“Hey, darling,” he says sweetly, before Chuuya can yell, “sorry I’m late— I lost track of time. I would’ve texted you, but it was going to slow me down and I wanted to get here as fast as possible.”
The car smells sweet,+
“Hey, darling,” he says sweetly, before Chuuya can yell, “sorry I’m late— I lost track of time. I would’ve texted you, but it was going to slow me down and I wanted to get here as fast as possible.”
The car smells sweet,+
like candy and perfume.
“I brought you something, to make it up to you,” Shuuji continues, digging around in the center console. After a moment, he produces a single piece of candy, offering it to him.
It’s a little crumpled but—
It’s Chuuya’s favorite.
He hesitates in+
“I brought you something, to make it up to you,” Shuuji continues, digging around in the center console. After a moment, he produces a single piece of candy, offering it to him.
It’s a little crumpled but—
It’s Chuuya’s favorite.
He hesitates in+
the doorway, unsure of what he wants to do or what he’s feeling.
On one hand, the excuse is pitiful and the fact that he was /so/ late makes anger and hurt well up inside him.
He should be more important than that, right? Losing track of time without a single attempt of+
On one hand, the excuse is pitiful and the fact that he was /so/ late makes anger and hurt well up inside him.
He should be more important than that, right? Losing track of time without a single attempt of+
communication just sounds like he doesn’t want to /be/ here, with Chuuya. Like he doesn’t care.
On the other hand...he did come. And Chuuya only offhandedly mentioned his favorite candy once, so it’s sweet that he remembered. Touching.
And more importantly...
He wants tonight+
On the other hand...he did come. And Chuuya only offhandedly mentioned his favorite candy once, so it’s sweet that he remembered. Touching.
And more importantly...
He wants tonight+
to go well. /Needs/ it to go well so he can try to put this feelings of inadequacy and insecurity and confusion to rest.
Just for /one/ night, he wants it to be easy.
So he swallows hard and slides inside the car. He takes the candy, holding it in his palm like a gift. +
Just for /one/ night, he wants it to be easy.
So he swallows hard and slides inside the car. He takes the candy, holding it in his palm like a gift. +
“Thanks,” he mutters, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice, “I wish you had texted though.”
The car swerves into traffic, and Chuuya doesn’t like that he’s becoming so used to Shuuji’s driving that he barely blinks when he cuts someone off with only inches to spare.+
The car swerves into traffic, and Chuuya doesn’t like that he’s becoming so used to Shuuji’s driving that he barely blinks when he cuts someone off with only inches to spare.+
“I know, darling— but I just couldn’t.”
That explains literally nothing, but Chuuya decides to let it go. He unwraps the candy and pops it in his mouth, sucking on it silently.
It doesn’t taste as good as it normally does.
Halfway through the drive, Shuuji gets a Snapchat +
That explains literally nothing, but Chuuya decides to let it go. He unwraps the candy and pops it in his mouth, sucking on it silently.
It doesn’t taste as good as it normally does.
Halfway through the drive, Shuuji gets a Snapchat +
notification that he doesn’t open right now, but he does reach over to clear the notification from his screen.
Chuuya doesn’t notice, too busy staring broodily out the window and struggling to work himself into a better mood. If he spends the whole date grumpy and bitter, it+
Chuuya doesn’t notice, too busy staring broodily out the window and struggling to work himself into a better mood. If he spends the whole date grumpy and bitter, it+
is going to ruin the date. He won’t enjoy the movie, and if Shuuji kisses him now—
He’s more likely to bite him than to kiss him back.
And as they get closer to the house, the nerves begin to build, because there’s one thing he forgot to consider:
What if /Dazai/ is there?+
He’s more likely to bite him than to kiss him back.
And as they get closer to the house, the nerves begin to build, because there’s one thing he forgot to consider:
What if /Dazai/ is there?+
To be truthful, he hasn't been able to get that dream out of his head. He's avoided thinking about it too hard but--
There's times when he's zoning out and his mind wanders, bringing up the hazy memory of brown eyes burning into him, their breaths mingling in the tiny space +
There's times when he's zoning out and his mind wanders, bringing up the hazy memory of brown eyes burning into him, their breaths mingling in the tiny space +
between them, a large hand reaching between their pressed-together bodies, the feeling of desire so pressing and so /easy/ to give into, knowing that Dazai will take care of him, he'll make it /good/ for him--
And the resulting bolt of heat that jolts through him feels as wrong+
And the resulting bolt of heat that jolts through him feels as wrong+
as it feels /good/.
He shouldn't feel like this for Dazai. He should feel like this for /Shuuji/, right?
But whenever he thinks about Shuuji, all he feels is insecurity and the feeling of being on edge, and when he thinks about Dazai--
All he feels is the desire to /burn/. +
He shouldn't feel like this for Dazai. He should feel like this for /Shuuji/, right?
But whenever he thinks about Shuuji, all he feels is insecurity and the feeling of being on edge, and when he thinks about Dazai--
All he feels is the desire to /burn/. +
And Dazai seems to see /much/ more than he lets on, and Chuuya has never been great at lying so--
If he is there, if Chuuya even looks at him for a second, that dream is going to pop into his head, and Dazai's going to /know/. Somehow.
He's going to know that Chuuya came while+
If he is there, if Chuuya even looks at him for a second, that dream is going to pop into his head, and Dazai's going to /know/. Somehow.
He's going to know that Chuuya came while+
whimpering his name and then--
And then what?
That's the problem; he doesn't /know/. It's going to be weird,sure, but what /else/?
Will he be mad? Ban him from coming over to the house again? Stop Shuuji from seeing him? Make sure he doesn't see Yoko again?
Will he not care?+
And then what?
That's the problem; he doesn't /know/. It's going to be weird,sure, but what /else/?
Will he be mad? Ban him from coming over to the house again? Stop Shuuji from seeing him? Make sure he doesn't see Yoko again?
Will he not care?+
He's so caught up in his thoughts that the rest of the drive passes by without him noticing and when he looks up at the house--
Most of the lights are off, and the upstairs portion that Chuuya can see from here looks unoccupied.
Maybe Dazai's sleeping, but it doesn't look like+
Most of the lights are off, and the upstairs portion that Chuuya can see from here looks unoccupied.
Maybe Dazai's sleeping, but it doesn't look like+
anyone is home.
(He ignores the pang of disappointment that he feels.)
Shuuji takes up the entire driveway with his parking, and Chuuya exits the vehicle as fast as humanly possible. The nausea isn't as bad today, because apparently he's getting used to the driving, but that +
(He ignores the pang of disappointment that he feels.)
Shuuji takes up the entire driveway with his parking, and Chuuya exits the vehicle as fast as humanly possible. The nausea isn't as bad today, because apparently he's getting used to the driving, but that +
doesn't mean he wants to be in the car for any longer than necessary.
Shuuji goes to unlock the door,keys jingling.
Chuuya is right behind,eagerly bouncing up on his toes and waiting for Yoko to come bolting out of the door to greet him--
When the door opens, nothing happens.+
Shuuji goes to unlock the door,keys jingling.
Chuuya is right behind,eagerly bouncing up on his toes and waiting for Yoko to come bolting out of the door to greet him--
When the door opens, nothing happens.+
No dogs come running out to greet him, no one with dark hair and criminally broad shoulders looks at him.
It's just an empty house.
"Where are the dogs?" he dares to ask, kicking off his shoes alongside Shuuji. There's an empty space in the line of shoes, like a pair has been+
It's just an empty house.
"Where are the dogs?" he dares to ask, kicking off his shoes alongside Shuuji. There's an empty space in the line of shoes, like a pair has been+
taken.
Shuuji shrugs a shoulder. "I put them in their kennels before I left."
That seems like the /opposite/ of what you should do with your guard dogs, but it's not Chuuya's place to judge.
"Where are they? I'd like to say hello."
Shuuji stares at him, like he's evaluating+
Shuuji shrugs a shoulder. "I put them in their kennels before I left."
That seems like the /opposite/ of what you should do with your guard dogs, but it's not Chuuya's place to judge.
"Where are they? I'd like to say hello."
Shuuji stares at him, like he's evaluating+
his words,like he doesn't /trust/ him.Why is the idea that he wants to say hi so weird to him?The dogs might not be very friendly with /him/, but Yoko likes Chuuya just fine.
Eventually, he gestures to the long hallway to their left, haughtily, like he's doing Chuuya a /favor/.+
Eventually, he gestures to the long hallway to their left, haughtily, like he's doing Chuuya a /favor/.+
"Down there, door on the right."
Honestly, maybe if Shuuji were /nicer/ to the dogs, instead of treating them like pests and something to be treated with force and disrespect--
Maybe they'd like him more.
Chuuya takes off down the hallway, finding the door Shuuji mentioned. +
Honestly, maybe if Shuuji were /nicer/ to the dogs, instead of treating them like pests and something to be treated with force and disrespect--
Maybe they'd like him more.
Chuuya takes off down the hallway, finding the door Shuuji mentioned. +
Inside the room, there's a few storage bins that look like they're filled with dog food, some extra household items, and an entire bin filled with dog toys.
And two kennels, filled with two dogs that are /very/ happy to see him.
"Hello Yoko, Kozo," he coos, reaching down to +
And two kennels, filled with two dogs that are /very/ happy to see him.
"Hello Yoko, Kozo," he coos, reaching down to +
pet them through the bars of their jailcell.
Kozo presses his nose against the metal, squishing his own face, while Yoko spins in excited circles, pausing intermittently to paw at the cage.
Clearly, they both want to be let out, and they aren't /Chuuya's/ dogs but--
He bites+
Kozo presses his nose against the metal, squishing his own face, while Yoko spins in excited circles, pausing intermittently to paw at the cage.
Clearly, they both want to be let out, and they aren't /Chuuya's/ dogs but--
He bites+
his lip.The only reason Shuuji locks them up is because they don't like him, right?
So if Chuuya makes sure they leave him alone, he won't care, right? He doesn't want to leave them alone in here. They look so /pitiful/, eyes huge and pleading for him to let them out of prison.+
So if Chuuya makes sure they leave him alone, he won't care, right? He doesn't want to leave them alone in here. They look so /pitiful/, eyes huge and pleading for him to let them out of prison.+
With steady fingers, he unlocks Yoko's cage first, then Kozo's.
Yoko tackles him to the ground, tail wagging so hard that her entire body moves with it, pushing her face under his hands and basically petting herself. Kozo starts his customary sniff-test, starting at Chuuya's +
Yoko tackles him to the ground, tail wagging so hard that her entire body moves with it, pushing her face under his hands and basically petting herself. Kozo starts his customary sniff-test, starting at Chuuya's +
feet and making his way up.
Chuuya squirms when he gets to his neck, because his nose is cold and his breath tickles his ear. Kozo follows him, intent on his job, before ending it with a long, wet lick over his face.
"Thanks," Chuuya mutters, wiping dog slobber off his cheek.+
Chuuya squirms when he gets to his neck, because his nose is cold and his breath tickles his ear. Kozo follows him, intent on his job, before ending it with a long, wet lick over his face.
"Thanks," Chuuya mutters, wiping dog slobber off his cheek.+
Not that he doesn’t appreciate the dog kisses, but he doesn’t want his face smelling like dog breath.
Not that Kozo seems to care, panting happily in his face and pushing his head into Chuuya’s hand for scratches.
After he’s given Kozo his share of pets and Yoko her double +
Not that Kozo seems to care, panting happily in his face and pushing his head into Chuuya’s hand for scratches.
After he’s given Kozo his share of pets and Yoko her double +
share (unfortunately for Kozo, Chuuya does play favorites) he lets them both out and walks back to the living room.
Shuuji has sprawled across the living room couch, remote in hand as he surfs the TV for a movie to watch. He perks up when he hears Chuuya’s footsteps, only to +
Shuuji has sprawled across the living room couch, remote in hand as he surfs the TV for a movie to watch. He perks up when he hears Chuuya’s footsteps, only to +
scowl when he sees the dogs trotting happily beside him. “Why’d you let them out? I didn’t say you could.”
That /is/ true, and it makes Chuuya hesitate. He hates being rude but there’s just no /reason/ to have the dogs locked up where they can’t do their jobs.
That thought +
That /is/ true, and it makes Chuuya hesitate. He hates being rude but there’s just no /reason/ to have the dogs locked up where they can’t do their jobs.
That thought +
inspires him. “Well, I feel safer when they’re not locked up. Your dad’s job is dangerous, right? What if something happens?”
He adds in his best puppy eyes, staring at Shuuji until he reluctantly backs down.
“Fine,” he agrees, “but put them outside. I’m more than capable of+
He adds in his best puppy eyes, staring at Shuuji until he reluctantly backs down.
“Fine,” he agrees, “but put them outside. I’m more than capable of+
protecting /you./“
That makes Chuuya bristle, because he /is/ a Judo champion, thank you very much, and can certainly protect /himself/, probably way better than Shuuji could.
It also implies that Chuuya is weak or maybe soft, and either way, it makes irritation buzz through+
That makes Chuuya bristle, because he /is/ a Judo champion, thank you very much, and can certainly protect /himself/, probably way better than Shuuji could.
It also implies that Chuuya is weak or maybe soft, and either way, it makes irritation buzz through+
him.
Whatever, though. Shuuji can tell himself whatever he wants, while Chuuya wins by having the dogs out.
He does usher them outside though, pushing on Yoko’s nose when she tries to follow him back in.
“I’ll be back for you,” he whispers conspiratorially, giving her a+
Whatever, though. Shuuji can tell himself whatever he wants, while Chuuya wins by having the dogs out.
He does usher them outside though, pushing on Yoko’s nose when she tries to follow him back in.
“I’ll be back for you,” he whispers conspiratorially, giving her a+
quick kiss on the forehead before shutting the door.
She looks at him through the glass like she’s never experienced such betrayal before.
He pads back to the living room, settling on the couch near Shuuji. After a moments hesitation, he scoots a little closer, /trying/ to+
She looks at him through the glass like she’s never experienced such betrayal before.
He pads back to the living room, settling on the couch near Shuuji. After a moments hesitation, he scoots a little closer, /trying/ to+
be a good date and show that he likes him.
The smile he gets in return soothes the strange tension in his stomach, one that urges him to get some distance between them.
He doesn’t know what movie Shuuji chose—some scary movie, he guesses, based on all the fake blood and props.+
The smile he gets in return soothes the strange tension in his stomach, one that urges him to get some distance between them.
He doesn’t know what movie Shuuji chose—some scary movie, he guesses, based on all the fake blood and props.+
It’s too early in the year for scary stories, though apparently /this/ friend group doesn’t seem to care that much. Maybe the story Yuan told him at the beginning of the week was part of a plan?
Who knows.
The movie is cheesy, not scary at all unless you count the random +
Who knows.
The movie is cheesy, not scary at all unless you count the random +
jump scares sprinkled throughout.
Shuuji even yelps at one of them, which makes Chuuya smile.
For a long while, everything is good. The movie isn’t scary, but it’s funny, and he’s sitting near Shuuji and he’s finally feeling relaxed.
For a while, at least. +
Shuuji even yelps at one of them, which makes Chuuya smile.
For a long while, everything is good. The movie isn’t scary, but it’s funny, and he’s sitting near Shuuji and he’s finally feeling relaxed.
For a while, at least. +
******* THE NEXT FEW TWEETS MAY CONTAIN MATERIAL THAT IS TRIGGERING TO THOSE SENSITIVE TO SEXUAL ASSAULT/ HARASSMENT. PROCEED WITH CAUTION *******
Halfway through, fingers find his knee. They tickle more than anything, sending sharp shivers down his spine, and something about +
Halfway through, fingers find his knee. They tickle more than anything, sending sharp shivers down his spine, and something about +
the way they slowly creep upward before sweeping downward, only to slither back up again even higher—
It makes him nervous. Makes him shift in place and swallow hard to calm the ball of anxiety in his stomach.
It’s not /bad/, he just—
Doesn’t think he wants it.
But Shuuji+
It makes him nervous. Makes him shift in place and swallow hard to calm the ball of anxiety in his stomach.
It’s not /bad/, he just—
Doesn’t think he wants it.
But Shuuji+
is staring at him, Chuuya can see it from the corner of his eye.
And he’s—
He doesn’t know what Shuuji will /do/ if he says no again. The first time, he had to walk home. The second time, he got irritated with him.
He doesn’t know what the /third/ time will bring him, and+
And he’s—
He doesn’t know what Shuuji will /do/ if he says no again. The first time, he had to walk home. The second time, he got irritated with him.
He doesn’t know what the /third/ time will bring him, and+
isn’t he supposed to /like/ this?
That’s what he said he’d do, and god, he just wants to have a normal, /fun/ date that doesn’t end with him feeling even worse than before.
So he allows it, tells himself to stop being so dramatic about some fingers on his thigh. It’s not a big+
That’s what he said he’d do, and god, he just wants to have a normal, /fun/ date that doesn’t end with him feeling even worse than before.
So he allows it, tells himself to stop being so dramatic about some fingers on his thigh. It’s not a big+
deal. He’s just being a baby.
Then, eventually:
“Chuuya.”
Shuuji’s voice somehow makes him flinch harder than all the jump scares in the movie. He laughs it off nervously, turning his head to look at him. “Yeah?”
And he should really be expecting it, it’s par for the +
Then, eventually:
“Chuuya.”
Shuuji’s voice somehow makes him flinch harder than all the jump scares in the movie. He laughs it off nervously, turning his head to look at him. “Yeah?”
And he should really be expecting it, it’s par for the +
course by now, and he feels pretty stupid for not anticipating it—
Shuuji kisses him.
They’ve gotten better at it over the week, so it’s less harsh than the first kisses, more welcoming.
Chuuya forces himself to relax into it, because he knows this. This is familiar ground.+
Shuuji kisses him.
They’ve gotten better at it over the week, so it’s less harsh than the first kisses, more welcoming.
Chuuya forces himself to relax into it, because he knows this. This is familiar ground.+
It may not be as good as everyone says it is, but it’s not /awful/, not anymore.
For a minute, it’s good. Their lips move together and Shuuji has been chewing gum, and it’s just...
It’s alright. It doesn’t make him shiver, and the hand stops on his thigh, a /little/ too +
For a minute, it’s good. Their lips move together and Shuuji has been chewing gum, and it’s just...
It’s alright. It doesn’t make him shiver, and the hand stops on his thigh, a /little/ too +
high for comfort, but at least it’s stopped moving.
Then, Shuuji gets /excited/, confident, sure of himself.
He pushes forward for more, trying to deepen the kiss by force.
Chuuya is automatically flinching back before he realizes it, but Shuuji chases after him, breath +
Then, Shuuji gets /excited/, confident, sure of himself.
He pushes forward for more, trying to deepen the kiss by force.
Chuuya is automatically flinching back before he realizes it, but Shuuji chases after him, breath +
sickeningly hot.
It goes like that, a dance of retreat and follow, until Chuuya realizes he’s made a grave error.
Instead of scooting back, he’d just leaned back, relying on his abs to keep him upright. But he’s sitting on the couch, and he only has so far he can go until—+
It goes like that, a dance of retreat and follow, until Chuuya realizes he’s made a grave error.
Instead of scooting back, he’d just leaned back, relying on his abs to keep him upright. But he’s sitting on the couch, and he only has so far he can go until—+
His back hits the cushions, and now he’s /trapped/.
Shuuji is leaning heavily on him, most of his weight centered over his hips, and he’s /still/ trying to kiss Chuuya, harder and deeper.
His hands clench down, /hard/, on his shoulders, and Chuuya’s mind—
It goes blank, +
Shuuji is leaning heavily on him, most of his weight centered over his hips, and he’s /still/ trying to kiss Chuuya, harder and deeper.
His hands clench down, /hard/, on his shoulders, and Chuuya’s mind—
It goes blank, +
flashing back to the times he had to /shove/ Shuuji off him with most of his strength and then—
Then it comes alive with panic and fear, because Shuuji is /so/ heavy on top of him, and Chuuya doesn’t have a lot of leverage and he’s /trapped/ and he won’t /stop/, he’s still— +
Then it comes alive with panic and fear, because Shuuji is /so/ heavy on top of him, and Chuuya doesn’t have a lot of leverage and he’s /trapped/ and he won’t /stop/, he’s still— +
He’s fighting before he realizes it, most of his training fleeing his mind in panic, and he’s planting his hands on Shuuji’s shoulders and /shoving/ him back.
/Get off, get off, please get off me—/
“What the /fuck/, Chuuya?”
His voice is like cold water on his head, stalling+
/Get off, get off, please get off me—/
“What the /fuck/, Chuuya?”
His voice is like cold water on his head, stalling+
his mind in its track and his breath in his chest.
Shuuji sits up,wiping his mouth. “Will you /stop/ acting like I’m a /bad/ guy who’s going to hurt you?I haven’t even done anything to you!”
Chuuya opens his mouth to snap back ‘you /have/ done something to me, you make me feel+
Shuuji sits up,wiping his mouth. “Will you /stop/ acting like I’m a /bad/ guy who’s going to hurt you?I haven’t even done anything to you!”
Chuuya opens his mouth to snap back ‘you /have/ done something to me, you make me feel+
stupid and wrong and you don’t make me feel safe and I have /no/ idea what to do about it and you don’t /help/—‘
But then he realizes...
That’s not exactly fair, is it? Yes, Shuuji is pushy and forceful but—
Chuuya hasn’t exactly told him a straightforward /no/, has he?+
But then he realizes...
That’s not exactly fair, is it? Yes, Shuuji is pushy and forceful but—
Chuuya hasn’t exactly told him a straightforward /no/, has he?+
He’s been treating Shuuji like someone he has to /handle/ and force himself to tolerate, when he hasn’t even /tried/ to communicate.
He never told him he was uncomfortable. He never told him he didn’t like what he was doing. How was he supposed to know? He can’t read Chuuya’s+
He never told him he was uncomfortable. He never told him he didn’t like what he was doing. How was he supposed to know? He can’t read Chuuya’s+
mind.
Maybe if he had tried talking to him instead of avoiding it and trying to silently manipulate the situation into something that was better for him—
Maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe he wouldn’t be sitting here, feeling like pure, utter shit, /so/ guilty and still+
Maybe if he had tried talking to him instead of avoiding it and trying to silently manipulate the situation into something that was better for him—
Maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe he wouldn’t be sitting here, feeling like pure, utter shit, /so/ guilty and still+
shaking from the brief panic.
God, why is he so fucking /stupid/? Why can’t he do /anything/ right?
He closes his eyes, feeling the prick of tears. “I’m sorry, I just— I guess I just don’t like being pinned. I didn’t mean to freak out like that.”
“That’s /not/ what you were+
God, why is he so fucking /stupid/? Why can’t he do /anything/ right?
He closes his eyes, feeling the prick of tears. “I’m sorry, I just— I guess I just don’t like being pinned. I didn’t mean to freak out like that.”
“That’s /not/ what you were+
saying this whole week?! You liked me pushing you against the wall just fine then, didn’t you?”
He didn’t actually, but it was better and easier to handle when he was standing. “I just wasn’t /expecting/ it, and it freaked me out a little. I don’t think you’re gonna hurt me, +
He didn’t actually, but it was better and easier to handle when he was standing. “I just wasn’t /expecting/ it, and it freaked me out a little. I don’t think you’re gonna hurt me, +
I just— I don’t like being taken by surprise, that’s all.”
Shuuji stands up, and now he’s /angry/, voice rising and shaking with it. “/Again/, that’s not what you’ve been saying this whole time! I’ve been kissing you like that the /entire/ time and /suddenly/ you have a problem+
Shuuji stands up, and now he’s /angry/, voice rising and shaking with it. “/Again/, that’s not what you’ve been saying this whole time! I’ve been kissing you like that the /entire/ time and /suddenly/ you have a problem+
with it? Make up your fucking mind, Chuuya.”
Chuuya curls up, fighting back tears. He doesn’t like that Shuuji is yelling at him about this. It makes everything so much /harder/ to deal with, the knot of emotion winding tighter in his chest.
It’s getting hard to breathe. +
Chuuya curls up, fighting back tears. He doesn’t like that Shuuji is yelling at him about this. It makes everything so much /harder/ to deal with, the knot of emotion winding tighter in his chest.
It’s getting hard to breathe. +
He doesn’t even know /what/ he’s feeling right now, only that there’s a /lot/ of it, and it’s making him feel sick. “I’m /sorry/—,” he tries again, desperate.
He just has to explain better.Maybe if he could fucking /speak/ instead of crying like a baby right now, he wouldn’t be+
He just has to explain better.Maybe if he could fucking /speak/ instead of crying like a baby right now, he wouldn’t be+
yelling.
Shuuji scoffs, throwing up his hands. “Whatever, Chuuya. Make up your mind, and then come talk to me. This whole hot-and-cold, teasing thing is /not/ cute. Grow up.”
Then he leaves, which is a blessing and a curse, because Chuuya’s ears are ringing in the sudden +
Shuuji scoffs, throwing up his hands. “Whatever, Chuuya. Make up your mind, and then come talk to me. This whole hot-and-cold, teasing thing is /not/ cute. Grow up.”
Then he leaves, which is a blessing and a curse, because Chuuya’s ears are ringing in the sudden +
silence, and he’s breaking down but—
At least it’s over. At least it’s done.
************ TAG WARNING OVER. SUMMARY: Shuuji kisses Chuuya, pins him with his weight, which makes Chuuya panic. They argue. ******
+
At least it’s over. At least it’s done.
************ TAG WARNING OVER. SUMMARY: Shuuji kisses Chuuya, pins him with his weight, which makes Chuuya panic. They argue. ******
+
When the scratch at the back door comes, Chuuya flinches hard. His heart is still beating overtime and every nerve is on edge.
It’s only until another scratch comes that the sound registers.
The dogs.
Something about that, the dogs needing him, the dogs /wanting/ him makes+
It’s only until another scratch comes that the sound registers.
The dogs.
Something about that, the dogs needing him, the dogs /wanting/ him makes+
him choke up, throat closing.
He stumbles up, vision blurred, and staggers to the back door.
Yoko is waiting for him, and when she sees him, she knocks at the glass again. She looks /so/ soft, warm and welcoming and gentle—
Chuuya wants her /so/ bad right now.
So he opens+
He stumbles up, vision blurred, and staggers to the back door.
Yoko is waiting for him, and when she sees him, she knocks at the glass again. She looks /so/ soft, warm and welcoming and gentle—
Chuuya wants her /so/ bad right now.
So he opens+
the door to let them both in, falling to his knees to wrap his arms around Yoko’s neck tightly.
She sits still for him, her head hanging over his shoulder as he buries his face into her soft neck fur.
Kozo comes to investigate, snuffling his hair, making a low whining noise+
She sits still for him, her head hanging over his shoulder as he buries his face into her soft neck fur.
Kozo comes to investigate, snuffling his hair, making a low whining noise+
in the back of his throat.
Chuuya laughs wetly, reaching a hand out to pet him. “I’m okay, Kozo,” he murmurs, petting him mindlessly.
Truthfully, he’s not. But now that it’s over, and he has someone warm and loving and gentle in his arms, letting him cry over them— +
Chuuya laughs wetly, reaching a hand out to pet him. “I’m okay, Kozo,” he murmurs, petting him mindlessly.
Truthfully, he’s not. But now that it’s over, and he has someone warm and loving and gentle in his arms, letting him cry over them— +
He’s getting better. Slowly but surely.
He kneels there on the floor until his knees ache, hugging Yoko around the neck and stroking Kozo’s head. Neither of them move, not even Kozo, who usually leaves Chuuya alone after a long hello.
Both of them seem to sense how much he+
He kneels there on the floor until his knees ache, hugging Yoko around the neck and stroking Kozo’s head. Neither of them move, not even Kozo, who usually leaves Chuuya alone after a long hello.
Both of them seem to sense how much he+
needs them right now, because they sit on the floor with him, and when he eventually moves back to the couch, they follow at his heels.
He doesn’t know if they’re allowed on the couch, but he doesn’t care right now, squishing himself tightly against the back and patting the +
He doesn’t know if they’re allowed on the couch, but he doesn’t care right now, squishing himself tightly against the back and patting the +
empty space in front of him until Yoko climbs up and cuddles up with him.
Kozo remains on the floor, and Chuuya dangles one hand over the edge so he can rest it on his head.
He knows he should go home now, but he doesn’t want to see him right now. Doesn’t want to argue again+
Kozo remains on the floor, and Chuuya dangles one hand over the edge so he can rest it on his head.
He knows he should go home now, but he doesn’t want to see him right now. Doesn’t want to argue again+
and doesn’t want to have to beg for a ride home.
Also doesn’t want to see Nikolai right now, and have to explain why he’s still silently crying.
It’s okay, he tells himself miserably, he’ll just wait until Dazai gets home, and he’ll ask him for a ride.
Eventually, the movie+
Also doesn’t want to see Nikolai right now, and have to explain why he’s still silently crying.
It’s okay, he tells himself miserably, he’ll just wait until Dazai gets home, and he’ll ask him for a ride.
Eventually, the movie+
they had playing on the TV ends, and the screen goes black. He doesn’t start up another one, partly because that would mean getting up and moving, and partly because the remote is complicated and he’s too stupid to figure it out right now.
As the sun goes down, the living room+
As the sun goes down, the living room+
goes dark.
Eventually his tears stop, and even more eventually—
His hands still, and he falls asleep, curled up on the couch and waiting for Dazai to come home.
————
By the time Dazai gets home, he’s too exhausted to even get mad at the car parked lopsidedly in the driveway.+
Eventually his tears stop, and even more eventually—
His hands still, and he falls asleep, curled up on the couch and waiting for Dazai to come home.
————
By the time Dazai gets home, he’s too exhausted to even get mad at the car parked lopsidedly in the driveway.+
Usually he feels /some/ anger and irritation but it’s been a /long/ day, and half of his information fell through and the /other/ half had to be beaten out of his informat, and now there’s /blood/ on his knuckles, which ruins the foundation covering his tattoos and it’s /two/ +
in the morning, he’s exhausted and /barely/ got any progress done today, and there’s even /more/ work tomorrow—
So yeah, when he sees that stupid car parked like Shuuji hasn’t even /seen/ a parking lot?
He just doesn’t care anymore. Just one more thing on top of his bad day.+
So yeah, when he sees that stupid car parked like Shuuji hasn’t even /seen/ a parking lot?
He just doesn’t care anymore. Just one more thing on top of his bad day.+
He’s not even surprised. Just a normal Saturday in /his/ life!
Welcome to paradise, he grumbles to himself, before parking his motorcycle in the /tiny/ space left to do so.
At least the car is locked. He’ll have to move it in the morning, but /that/ is a problem for future +
Welcome to paradise, he grumbles to himself, before parking his motorcycle in the /tiny/ space left to do so.
At least the car is locked. He’ll have to move it in the morning, but /that/ is a problem for future +
Dazai.
/Present/ Dazai’s problem is one he isn’t expecting, though:
When he opens the door, stepping into the dark house and going to hang up his keys—
A loud growl rips through the silence, making him freeze in place.
It’s taken a long time for Dazai to get over his fear+
/Present/ Dazai’s problem is one he isn’t expecting, though:
When he opens the door, stepping into the dark house and going to hang up his keys—
A loud growl rips through the silence, making him freeze in place.
It’s taken a long time for Dazai to get over his fear+
of dogs. It took handling Kozo and Yoko since they were too young to even leave their mother, sleeping with them, carrying them with him wherever he want as exposure therapy.
It took teaching them a command that told them to /immediately/ back off and lay down, whenever his+
It took teaching them a command that told them to /immediately/ back off and lay down, whenever his+
fear started to act up.
It took wrestling with them with the bite sleeve on, until he was confident that they wouldn’t add to the myriad of bite scars already marked into his skin.
It took a /long/ time to get past all his bad memories but—
When that growl tears through the+
It took wrestling with them with the bite sleeve on, until he was confident that they wouldn’t add to the myriad of bite scars already marked into his skin.
It took a /long/ time to get past all his bad memories but—
When that growl tears through the+
air, vicious and dangerous, a clear warning and prelude to more—
For a moment, he’s fifteen again, locked in a corner as the dogs approach, snarling and slavering over their jaws as they hunt him down. Knowing no one is going to come for him—
Because he’s /exactly/ where he’s+
For a moment, he’s fifteen again, locked in a corner as the dogs approach, snarling and slavering over their jaws as they hunt him down. Knowing no one is going to come for him—
Because he’s /exactly/ where he’s+
supposed to be.
/ First rule of the mafia, Dazai-kun: your subordinates must fear you more than they respect you. /
Stop.
He’s /not/ 15 anymore, he’s not in the mafia, and he’s /not/ a helpless, scared child anymore.
He’s a grown man, this is /his/ house, and these are+
/ First rule of the mafia, Dazai-kun: your subordinates must fear you more than they respect you. /
Stop.
He’s /not/ 15 anymore, he’s not in the mafia, and he’s /not/ a helpless, scared child anymore.
He’s a grown man, this is /his/ house, and these are+
/his/ dogs.
Who would not /snarl/ at him without a reason.
The light feom the lamps outside is just enough to reflect off their eyes, glinting at him from two different spots of the room. They’re staring him down, locked on target, waiting for a reason to lunge.
Warily, he+
Who would not /snarl/ at him without a reason.
The light feom the lamps outside is just enough to reflect off their eyes, glinting at him from two different spots of the room. They’re staring him down, locked on target, waiting for a reason to lunge.
Warily, he+
flips the light switch, lighting up the living room.
And finds himself with a /weird/ situation, one he’s not quite sure how to handle.
First off, Kozo is lying between the front door and the entrance of the stairs. He’s got his head up and staring him down intently.
Usually,+
And finds himself with a /weird/ situation, one he’s not quite sure how to handle.
First off, Kozo is lying between the front door and the entrance of the stairs. He’s got his head up and staring him down intently.
Usually,+
Kozo sleeps in the kitchen. Probably thinks that it’s going to get him fed earlier.
And he sleeps on his side, and his fur is long enough that he gets the doggy version of bed-head, looking rumpled on one side.
Now, his fur is sleek and neat, so obviously he wasn’t really +
And he sleeps on his side, and his fur is long enough that he gets the doggy version of bed-head, looking rumpled on one side.
Now, his fur is sleek and neat, so obviously he wasn’t really +
sleeping. He was just... laying between the stairs and the couch? Waiting?
And the second part, this is the weirdest one—
Yoko is /on/ the couch.
Normally, he’d discipline her for that, because they’re not allowed on the couch (their claws tear up the fabric so quickly), +
And the second part, this is the weirdest one—
Yoko is /on/ the couch.
Normally, he’d discipline her for that, because they’re not allowed on the couch (their claws tear up the fabric so quickly), +
but she’s perched with her front legs on the back of the couch, her back legs still on the cushions, her head lowered and eyes /fixed/ on him—
And /she’s/ the one growling at him, even now.
What the hell happened? He was only gone for a few hours, definitely not long enough +
And /she’s/ the one growling at him, even now.
What the hell happened? He was only gone for a few hours, definitely not long enough +
for his dogs to lose all sense of manners, and /definitely/ not long enough for them to turn on him.
He leans over cautiously, looking over the side of the couch to see what she’s guarding so fiercely—
Oh.
It’s... Chuuya? Curled up in a little ball on the couch, fast asleep.+
He leans over cautiously, looking over the side of the couch to see what she’s guarding so fiercely—
Oh.
It’s... Chuuya? Curled up in a little ball on the couch, fast asleep.+
Well he didn’t even know Chuuya was going to be here today, and clearly /something/ happened to have the dogs so anxious, but the house looks fine and the security system is untouched.
He looks at Chuuya, curled up as small as he can get, looks back at Yoko who is basically+
He looks at Chuuya, curled up as small as he can get, looks back at Yoko who is basically+
standing on him as she guards him and—
Honestly, he has no idea what’s going on, and he can’t exactly find out without waking up Chuuya.
Since he /doesn’t/ want his fingers bitten off just yet, he leaves Yoko to her job for now. Instead he goes to Kozo, crouching down beside+
Honestly, he has no idea what’s going on, and he can’t exactly find out without waking up Chuuya.
Since he /doesn’t/ want his fingers bitten off just yet, he leaves Yoko to her job for now. Instead he goes to Kozo, crouching down beside+
him and offering his hand to sniff.
He’s much calmer, though he’s very interested in the blood on Dazai’s knuckles, spending a decent amount of time snuffling at his hand.
When he doesn’t move, Dazai lays his other hand on his head, ruffling his ears fondly. “What’s got you so+
He’s much calmer, though he’s very interested in the blood on Dazai’s knuckles, spending a decent amount of time snuffling at his hand.
When he doesn’t move, Dazai lays his other hand on his head, ruffling his ears fondly. “What’s got you so+
worried, boy?” He murmurs, his gaze wandering to the stairs.
He’s /starting/ to get some suspicions, based on the fact that Kozo is lying in /front/ of the stairs and blocking the entrance—
And he doesn’t like any of the thoughts that pop up in his head. Even the tamest one +
He’s /starting/ to get some suspicions, based on the fact that Kozo is lying in /front/ of the stairs and blocking the entrance—
And he doesn’t like any of the thoughts that pop up in his head. Even the tamest one +
makes his jaw clench and anger begin to swirl inside of him.
Once Kozo is settled, he moves onto the kitchen, leaving Yoko to calm down a bit more before he dares to approach her.
He washes his hands, makes himself something quick and easy to eat and then—
Begins to look+
Once Kozo is settled, he moves onto the kitchen, leaving Yoko to calm down a bit more before he dares to approach her.
He washes his hands, makes himself something quick and easy to eat and then—
Begins to look+
for evidence.
Clearly /something/ happened. The dogs aren’t that easy to rile up, and the fact that they’re guarding Chuuya after he’s been sleeping for a while, means that something put them on edge.
But there’s nothing he can find. The doors are locked, the windows are +
Clearly /something/ happened. The dogs aren’t that easy to rile up, and the fact that they’re guarding Chuuya after he’s been sleeping for a while, means that something put them on edge.
But there’s nothing he can find. The doors are locked, the windows are +
intact and shut, the security system is uncompromised. Even the kitchen is clean.
There’s no trace of /anything/.
The only people in the house who know what happened are Shuuji...
His eyes wander back to the living room.
And Chuuya.
When he steps back into the living room+
There’s no trace of /anything/.
The only people in the house who know what happened are Shuuji...
His eyes wander back to the living room.
And Chuuya.
When he steps back into the living room+
Yoko has left her perch and is now sitting on the floor near Chuuya’s head, sitting alert and facing him.
He doesn’t dare approach him without getting her approval, so he walks up to her cautiously.
She lets him approach, but her tail does not wave and her eyes do not leave+
He doesn’t dare approach him without getting her approval, so he walks up to her cautiously.
She lets him approach, but her tail does not wave and her eyes do not leave+
his face.She’s as stiff as a board, tension vibrating through her.
It makes his head ache with memories, but he crouches down calmly next to her and lets her take him in.Clearly she needs to be reassured that he’s not an enemy, and even though he hates these kind of stand-offs—+
It makes his head ache with memories, but he crouches down calmly next to her and lets her take him in.Clearly she needs to be reassured that he’s not an enemy, and even though he hates these kind of stand-offs—+
He does it for her. And for Chuuya.
Eventually she leans forward to sniff him, and he smiles, offering up his hand.
“You’re choosing him over me, huh?” He says softly, letting out an amused huff. “Who knew you would turn traitor so easily?”
She sniffs his palm haughtily, +
Eventually she leans forward to sniff him, and he smiles, offering up his hand.
“You’re choosing him over me, huh?” He says softly, letting out an amused huff. “Who knew you would turn traitor so easily?”
She sniffs his palm haughtily, +
eyeing him.
Then she completely dismisses him, turning back to push her head underneath Chuuya’s dangling hand.
Dazai hasn’t looked yet. Is a little afraid too, really, because his /imagination/ is bad enough and if he finds him hurt—
He doesn’t think he’ll be able to +
Then she completely dismisses him, turning back to push her head underneath Chuuya’s dangling hand.
Dazai hasn’t looked yet. Is a little afraid too, really, because his /imagination/ is bad enough and if he finds him hurt—
He doesn’t think he’ll be able to +
control himself. Not today, not with this.
Still, he can’t just /not/ look so he prepares himself, clenching his jaw until it aches as he turns his head—
Chuuya looks...
Exhausted, more than anything, deep circles under his eyes and his face pale and wan. His hair is a mess+
Still, he can’t just /not/ look so he prepares himself, clenching his jaw until it aches as he turns his head—
Chuuya looks...
Exhausted, more than anything, deep circles under his eyes and his face pale and wan. His hair is a mess+
and sticking up in odd places. It looks like it was curled once, but has been flattened by the way he’s sleeping.
There’s traces of mascara on his cheeks, hastily wiped away. He’s been crying.
The jolt of fury is so /visceral/ that Dazai has to close his fist around his leg,+
There’s traces of mascara on his cheeks, hastily wiped away. He’s been crying.
The jolt of fury is so /visceral/ that Dazai has to close his fist around his leg,+
digging his nails in to gain control of himself.
His heart is suddenly roaring in his ears, and that dark, traumatized, /violent/ part of himself wants /blood/.
He forces himself to keep looking, checking him over for blood or injuries.
Chuuya looks otherwise okay, his+
His heart is suddenly roaring in his ears, and that dark, traumatized, /violent/ part of himself wants /blood/.
He forces himself to keep looking, checking him over for blood or injuries.
Chuuya looks otherwise okay, his+
clothes rumpled but intact, no trace of injuries, breathing deep and even.
Just the crying then.
It feels wrong to be relieved by that, but for a second, with how heavily he was asleep, Dazai thought—
He really thought—
Thought he was going to be looking at a /victim/ +
Just the crying then.
It feels wrong to be relieved by that, but for a second, with how heavily he was asleep, Dazai thought—
He really thought—
Thought he was going to be looking at a /victim/ +
instead of a boy exhausted by an emotional breakdown.
Which doesn’t make it /okay/, but it does make it the best possible outcome.
The question is, what does he do /now/?
He doesn’t want to wake him up. He looks so exhausted that the thought of shaking him awake makes Dazai+
Which doesn’t make it /okay/, but it does make it the best possible outcome.
The question is, what does he do /now/?
He doesn’t want to wake him up. He looks so exhausted that the thought of shaking him awake makes Dazai+
ache with sympathy. He needs sleep more than he needs Dazai interrogating him on what happened.
He /could/ go upstairs and drag Shuuji out of his bed and demand what happened but—
Without Chuuya awake to give his story, he won’t know if he’s lying.
(He wants to go up there.+
He /could/ go upstairs and drag Shuuji out of his bed and demand what happened but—
Without Chuuya awake to give his story, he won’t know if he’s lying.
(He wants to go up there.+
He does. He wants to go up there and /demand/ why Chuuya cried himself to sleep on his couch and what the fuck happened to cause it, and if Shuuji /did/ something or if he dares to /lie/ to him again—
God, he’s /so/ angry.)
But that won’t accomplish anything, not yet. He needs+
God, he’s /so/ angry.)
But that won’t accomplish anything, not yet. He needs+
to wait. Needs to be /patient/.
Needs to plan.
But first—
He needs to get Chuuya to bed. The redhead looks comfortable on the couch, curled up and snoring away, but there’s no pillows and no blankets.
It’s warm enough to sleep without one, but he looks so /pitiful/ like +
Needs to plan.
But first—
He needs to get Chuuya to bed. The redhead looks comfortable on the couch, curled up and snoring away, but there’s no pillows and no blankets.
It’s warm enough to sleep without one, but he looks so /pitiful/ like +
this. He can’t just leave him here, like a homeless kitten curled up in the only warmth it can find.
With a sigh, he stands up again, taking a step closer. Yoko backs off a little, finally accepting that he’s not going to cause any harm.
He has to bend down quite a bit to +
With a sigh, he stands up again, taking a step closer. Yoko backs off a little, finally accepting that he’s not going to cause any harm.
He has to bend down quite a bit to +
slide his arms gently under his body, one under his legs and the other supporting his back. He’s light enough that it’s barely a strain to stand back up with him.
Dazai freezes when Chuuya stirs, wondering exactly how he’s going to explain why he’s carrying him in his sleep— +
Dazai freezes when Chuuya stirs, wondering exactly how he’s going to explain why he’s carrying him in his sleep— +
But he doesn’t wake fully, only turning his head into Dazai’s chest with a sleepy sigh and an incoherent mumble.
Dazai’s heart feels too big for his chest, suddenly.
“Shh, sweetheart, go back to sleep,” he murmurs quietly, shushing him, “I’ve got you.”
Both of the dogs +
Dazai’s heart feels too big for his chest, suddenly.
“Shh, sweetheart, go back to sleep,” he murmurs quietly, shushing him, “I’ve got you.”
Both of the dogs +
wait at the bottom of the stairs as he makes his way up slowly, careful to keep his steps quiet.
Once,he had a guest bedroom, but it’s been converted into Shuuji’s room, so there’s really only one place to bring him—
With one hand, he unlocks the door to his room and pushes it+
Once,he had a guest bedroom, but it’s been converted into Shuuji’s room, so there’s really only one place to bring him—
With one hand, he unlocks the door to his room and pushes it+
open with his shoulder.
Everything in his office is as he left it, so he moves to the other door in the room, which leads to his /actual/ bedroom.
The red lights under the bed are his only source of light as he brings Chuuya over to the bed.
He sets him down as slowly and +
Everything in his office is as he left it, so he moves to the other door in the room, which leads to his /actual/ bedroom.
The red lights under the bed are his only source of light as he brings Chuuya over to the bed.
He sets him down as slowly and +
gently as he can, on the side Dazai doesn’t sleep on.
He’s not sure why it matters, considering he’s not going to sleep in his bed tonight, if he even sleeps at all, but it just /feels/ right.
Tucking a pillow under his head and pulling the thick comforter over his legs— +
He’s not sure why it matters, considering he’s not going to sleep in his bed tonight, if he even sleeps at all, but it just /feels/ right.
Tucking a pillow under his head and pulling the thick comforter over his legs— +
sleeping in jeans and a sweater probably isn’t comfortable, but Dazai doesn’t know him well enough to strip or change him— he makes him as comfortable as possible.
He goes to pull away, only to find—
A tiny, stubborn hand fisted in his shirt, refusing to let him go.+
He goes to pull away, only to find—
A tiny, stubborn hand fisted in his shirt, refusing to let him go.+
Dazai’s lips twitch, fighting a smile. /Cute/.
It takes gentle uncurling and prying of his fingers to get him to let go.
As soon as he does, Chuuya is shoving his hand under the pillow, dragging it close with a sleepy-grumpy expression.
Dazai steps back quietly, and all that+
It takes gentle uncurling and prying of his fingers to get him to let go.
As soon as he does, Chuuya is shoving his hand under the pillow, dragging it close with a sleepy-grumpy expression.
Dazai steps back quietly, and all that+
anger he was feeling a moment ago? Gone, for the moment.
Chuuya looks so small in his bed though, barely taking up even a sliver of it. Of course, Dazai’s bed is custom made for his height but—
/How/ does he look so tiny? It’s not fair.
Then, because Chuuya has apparently+
Chuuya looks so small in his bed though, barely taking up even a sliver of it. Of course, Dazai’s bed is custom made for his height but—
/How/ does he look so tiny? It’s not fair.
Then, because Chuuya has apparently+
had a bad day, he makes an /exception/.
He calls the dogs, and only has to wait a moment before they’re at his heels, waiting for directions.
Gesturing towards the bed, he says, “Up.”
Yoko hops up immediately, curling up against Chuuya’s torso while resting her head on the+
He calls the dogs, and only has to wait a moment before they’re at his heels, waiting for directions.
Gesturing towards the bed, he says, “Up.”
Yoko hops up immediately, curling up against Chuuya’s torso while resting her head on the+
same pillow as him.
Kozo looks at him like he’s lost his mind, which, to be fair, Dazai feels like he is too. The dogs have /never/ been on his bed before, and Chuuya doesn’t even have to /ask/ for Dazai to break his rule for him.
When he gestures again, Kozo follows the +
Kozo looks at him like he’s lost his mind, which, to be fair, Dazai feels like he is too. The dogs have /never/ been on his bed before, and Chuuya doesn’t even have to /ask/ for Dazai to break his rule for him.
When he gestures again, Kozo follows the +
order and leaps up. He stretches out full length against Chuuya’s back, nearly as tall as he is.
Now he looks even /smaller/ with the dogs pressed up against him, so tiny that Dazai just wants to pick him up again—
Spinning on his heel, he leaves, refusing to follow /that/ +
Now he looks even /smaller/ with the dogs pressed up against him, so tiny that Dazai just wants to pick him up again—
Spinning on his heel, he leaves, refusing to follow /that/ +
line of thought.
Something makes him pause in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder.
His room has always been a source of contention for him. It’s simultaneously his safe place, but also the place that causes him the most irritation and pain when his insomnia kicks in.+
Something makes him pause in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder.
His room has always been a source of contention for him. It’s simultaneously his safe place, but also the place that causes him the most irritation and pain when his insomnia kicks in.+
Sometimes the image of his bed makes him fuzzy and thick with sleep.
Sometimes the image makes him want to break things.
Now though—
It makes something warm glow inside him, settling somewhere deep in his chest.
There’s just /one/ thing missing:
He gives the command for+
Sometimes the image makes him want to break things.
Now though—
It makes something warm glow inside him, settling somewhere deep in his chest.
There’s just /one/ thing missing:
He gives the command for+
‘guard’ and something inside him slots perfectly in place when he sees Kozo lift his head and place it over Chuuya’s back.
He leaves them all to rest, knowing that nothing will happen to Chuuya while he sleeps.
Not when the dogs are here.
Not when he’s here.
—— +
He leaves them all to rest, knowing that nothing will happen to Chuuya while he sleeps.
Not when the dogs are here.
Not when he’s here.
—— +
The first thing Chuuya registers is the feeling of warmth. Heavy, all-encompassing, /drugging/ warmth that leaves all his muscles limp and tempts him back to sleep.
For a long while, he just basks in it, in the feeling of complete relaxation and safety and softness. Moving +
For a long while, he just basks in it, in the feeling of complete relaxation and safety and softness. Moving +
would mean giving up this heavenly warmth so he just /doesn’t/, as his mind slowly rises into wakefulness.
The second thing he notices is that two giant, heavy lumps of warmth are moving rhythmically against him. There’s the sound of rushing air, deep but steady.
Confused, he+
The second thing he notices is that two giant, heavy lumps of warmth are moving rhythmically against him. There’s the sound of rushing air, deep but steady.
Confused, he+
blinks open his eyes—
Only to be met with Yoko’s sleeping face, a few inches of his own.
Oh.
Along his back, now that he’s more awake, is the distinct shape of another dog. Kozo is lying full length against him, with his heavy head resting on Chuuya’s back.
The fact that+
Only to be met with Yoko’s sleeping face, a few inches of his own.
Oh.
Along his back, now that he’s more awake, is the distinct shape of another dog. Kozo is lying full length against him, with his heavy head resting on Chuuya’s back.
The fact that+
the dogs stayed with him through the entire makes him feel giddy and warm inside, smothering his grin into the blanket.
...The blanket. He didn’t fall asleep with a blanket.
It’s only then that he notices that he is /not/ on the couch in the living room anymore. He’s also+
...The blanket. He didn’t fall asleep with a blanket.
It’s only then that he notices that he is /not/ on the couch in the living room anymore. He’s also+
not in Shuuji’s room, because his sheets are a pale blue, and the blanket covering him now is a pure, pitch black.
He shifts more onto his back to look around, reaching behind him to pat Kozo in apology when he gives a sleepy grumble at being disturbed.
The room is completely+
He shifts more onto his back to look around, reaching behind him to pat Kozo in apology when he gives a sleepy grumble at being disturbed.
The room is completely+
unfamiliar. To his left, there are floor-to-ceiling blackout curtains, assumingly covering a large bank of windows.
It /feels/ early, but the only light in the room is a red glow that comes from underneath the bed.
In front of him, there’s a door, just slightly ajar. He can +
It /feels/ early, but the only light in the room is a red glow that comes from underneath the bed.
In front of him, there’s a door, just slightly ajar. He can +
just barely see a sliver of what looks like marble and the glass of what might be a standing shower. The bathroom then, and because this room is /much/ bigger than Shuuji’s and the only room Chuuya hasn’t seen yet—
It must be the master bathroom, in /Dazai’s/ room.
How did he+
It must be the master bathroom, in /Dazai’s/ room.
How did he+
get /here/? He doesn’t remember waking up at all— in fact, he slept so deeply that he doesn’t even remember dreaming, only a thick, heavy wall of blackness dragging him into sleep.
Not to mention that he had to go through Dazai’s office to get into his room, and the office+
Not to mention that he had to go through Dazai’s office to get into his room, and the office+
is usually /locked/.
Shuuji never once came to check on him after their argument, so Chuuya would guess that he /wouldn’t/ bring him to bed, let alone Dazai’s bed, which means—
Dazai picked him up and carried him to /his/ bed, where he slept peacefully all night.
Oh /god/.+
Shuuji never once came to check on him after their argument, so Chuuya would guess that he /wouldn’t/ bring him to bed, let alone Dazai’s bed, which means—
Dazai picked him up and carried him to /his/ bed, where he slept peacefully all night.
Oh /god/.+
There’s no one in the room besides him and the dogs, but he still yanks the comforter over his face to hide the red flush that floods his face.
What Dazai did was sweet but—
He /talks/ in his sleep. What if he said something? What if he said something weird?
Or worse, what+
What Dazai did was sweet but—
He /talks/ in his sleep. What if he said something? What if he said something weird?
Or worse, what+
if Chuuya said his /name/?
(Despite his best efforts, he has /not/ forgotten the wet dream. And even if PG-13 dreams often have Dazai in them /somewhere/. His sleeping brain is /obsessed./)
Lowering the blanket a little, he peeks over to the other side of the bed, allowing+
(Despite his best efforts, he has /not/ forgotten the wet dream. And even if PG-13 dreams often have Dazai in them /somewhere/. His sleeping brain is /obsessed./)
Lowering the blanket a little, he peeks over to the other side of the bed, allowing+
him to imagine, just for a /moment/ what it’d be like to wake up with Dazai next to him.
He’d be warm, and take up most of the bed probably, and he’d have /delicious/ bed head. Chuuya already wants to sink his fingers into the softness of it, pull on it.
It’d be nice, he+
He’d be warm, and take up most of the bed probably, and he’d have /delicious/ bed head. Chuuya already wants to sink his fingers into the softness of it, pull on it.
It’d be nice, he+
thinks, and to be honest, he /wants/ it.
Despite that though, he’s glad it didn’t happen tonight. After the emotional whiplash of last night, the idea of waking up in a strange bed with someone who is still essentially a stranger— a /hot/ stranger, but a stranger nonetheless—+
Despite that though, he’s glad it didn’t happen tonight. After the emotional whiplash of last night, the idea of waking up in a strange bed with someone who is still essentially a stranger— a /hot/ stranger, but a stranger nonetheless—+
would probably have made him nervous.
As it is, the sight of the untouched bed on the other side, comforter neat and ice-cold—
It makes him /soft/ and warm.
By now he’s completely awake, and his jeans are starting to get uncomfortable. They’re one of the tightest pair he+
As it is, the sight of the untouched bed on the other side, comforter neat and ice-cold—
It makes him /soft/ and warm.
By now he’s completely awake, and his jeans are starting to get uncomfortable. They’re one of the tightest pair he+
owns, and they dig painfully into the skin of his hips. He didn’t notice while he was sleeping, of course, but now that he’s awake, it /hurts/.
There’s also crust on his cheeks and eyes from smeared mascara and leftover tears, and he already knows his hair is sticking straight+
There’s also crust on his cheeks and eyes from smeared mascara and leftover tears, and he already knows his hair is sticking straight+
up in wild tangles.
In short, he /feels/ crusty and dirty and probably looks worse.
Wiggling out from between the dogs is harder than it seems, but he manages it, carefully extracting his legs. He has to crawl to the bottom to avoid climbing over Yoko, but she looks dead +
In short, he /feels/ crusty and dirty and probably looks worse.
Wiggling out from between the dogs is harder than it seems, but he manages it, carefully extracting his legs. He has to crawl to the bottom to avoid climbing over Yoko, but she looks dead +
asleep and he doesn’t want to disturb her.
Pushing open the door he’d noticed, he finds that not is it a bathroom, but it is /the/ most luxurious bathroom he’s ever laid eyes on.
The entire thing is lined with black marble with golden streaks through it. The mirror takes up an+
Pushing open the door he’d noticed, he finds that not is it a bathroom, but it is /the/ most luxurious bathroom he’s ever laid eyes on.
The entire thing is lined with black marble with golden streaks through it. The mirror takes up an+
entire wall, and there’s a /full size/ freestanding tub that Chuuya is dying to use.
There’s a shower too, with golden fixtures and a glass door leading inside.
Everytime he forgets for a /second/ that Dazai is apparently rich— he sees something like this and is hit with it+
There’s a shower too, with golden fixtures and a glass door leading inside.
Everytime he forgets for a /second/ that Dazai is apparently rich— he sees something like this and is hit with it+
with it all over again.
He crosses over to the sink to wash his face, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror just yet. He already /feels/ too poor to even be in here, he doesn’t need to remind himself that he looks too bedraggled too.
When he turns on the water, it is +
He crosses over to the sink to wash his face, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror just yet. He already /feels/ too poor to even be in here, he doesn’t need to remind himself that he looks too bedraggled too.
When he turns on the water, it is +
immediately warm, something that Chuuya appreciates greatly. The showers back at the dorm take at least 5 minutes to even be lukewarm, and there’s only about 15 minutes of hot water if he’s /lucky/.
He washes his hands first, then his face, carefully rubbing off the streaks of+
He washes his hands first, then his face, carefully rubbing off the streaks of+
mascara and the crust from his inner eyes.
Then he carefully combs through his hair with wet fingers, patting down the wild curls and fixing his bangs. After a while though, he realizes it’s a lost cause and ties it all up in a bun with the hair tie around his wrist.
Wishing+
Then he carefully combs through his hair with wet fingers, patting down the wild curls and fixing his bangs. After a while though, he realizes it’s a lost cause and ties it all up in a bun with the hair tie around his wrist.
Wishing+
he had a toothbrush, he rinses out his mouth real quick before leaving the bathroom.
The dogs are awake now, heads up and staring at him curiously as he crosses over to the other door. It’s the only one he hasn’t opened yet, so he’s sure it leads to Dazai’s office.
Then he +
The dogs are awake now, heads up and staring at him curiously as he crosses over to the other door. It’s the only one he hasn’t opened yet, so he’s sure it leads to Dazai’s office.
Then he +
notices the chair by the door.
It’s big, thickly cushioned and a dark gray.
It also has some folded clothes on it, placed obviously enough that it would be hard for Chuuya /not/ to notice it.
Curious, he picks them up. Once unfolded, he realizes it’s a pair of grey sweatpants+
It’s big, thickly cushioned and a dark gray.
It also has some folded clothes on it, placed obviously enough that it would be hard for Chuuya /not/ to notice it.
Curious, he picks them up. Once unfolded, he realizes it’s a pair of grey sweatpants+
and a white button down that looks as soft as it feels.
There’s only one problem: when he holds the clothes up to his own body, they’re /massively/ big.The sweatpants alone end 15 centimeters past his ankles, and he could wear the shirt as a dress.
Biting his lip, he considers+
There’s only one problem: when he holds the clothes up to his own body, they’re /massively/ big.The sweatpants alone end 15 centimeters past his ankles, and he could wear the shirt as a dress.
Biting his lip, he considers+
his options.
Either his day old jeans and pullover sweater that are probably soaked with the remnants of emotional distress—
Or these comically oversized clothes that are soft and clean and haven’t been touched by Shuuji.
All things considered, it’s an easy choice.
He has+
Either his day old jeans and pullover sweater that are probably soaked with the remnants of emotional distress—
Or these comically oversized clothes that are soft and clean and haven’t been touched by Shuuji.
All things considered, it’s an easy choice.
He has+
to roll the sweatpants up at the waist /and/ the ankles to keep the fabric from dragging on the ground, and he has to adjust the drawstring on them a /lot/.
The shirt ends up slipping over his shoulders whenever he moves too much, even when he buttons it all the way up. He has+
The shirt ends up slipping over his shoulders whenever he moves too much, even when he buttons it all the way up. He has+
to roll up the sleeves several times just to be able to use his hands again.
All in all,he probably looks ridiculous, like a little kid wearing clothes way too big for him.
But they’re soft and clean and they have this delicious, warm, musky scent to them, and he feels a /lot/+
All in all,he probably looks ridiculous, like a little kid wearing clothes way too big for him.
But they’re soft and clean and they have this delicious, warm, musky scent to them, and he feels a /lot/+
better once he’s out of his clothes.
Then there’s nothing left to do but to go downstairs and face the music. He hasn’t heard any noise from downstairs, and it still feels criminally early, but he doesn’t know what to expect.
Is Shuuji awake yet?
Is Dazai awake? Is he even+
Then there’s nothing left to do but to go downstairs and face the music. He hasn’t heard any noise from downstairs, and it still feels criminally early, but he doesn’t know what to expect.
Is Shuuji awake yet?
Is Dazai awake? Is he even+
still in the house? Did he leave again?
The dogs jump off the bed when he opens the door, making him wince with the extra noise. He was /hoping/ to creep out of here silently until he figured out what kind of situation he was walking into.
Guess that’s not happening.
Dazai’s+
The dogs jump off the bed when he opens the door, making him wince with the extra noise. He was /hoping/ to creep out of here silently until he figured out what kind of situation he was walking into.
Guess that’s not happening.
Dazai’s+
office is empty and silent, the laptop on his desk open but the screen off.
Chuuya is /tempted/ to look around, because he still doesn’t know anything about Dazai’s ‘company’ and he hasn’t seen anything that would give him clues elsewhere around the house.
That doesn’t seem+
Chuuya is /tempted/ to look around, because he still doesn’t know anything about Dazai’s ‘company’ and he hasn’t seen anything that would give him clues elsewhere around the house.
That doesn’t seem+
right though, considering how /kind/—and teasing, but hey, Chuuya kinda likes that too—Dazai has been to him. Invading his privacy would be wrong.
Besides,he’s never /asked/ the man. Maybe he’ll tell him.
So instead of rifling through the drawers, he moves to the door. Pausing+
Besides,he’s never /asked/ the man. Maybe he’ll tell him.
So instead of rifling through the drawers, he moves to the door. Pausing+
just inside, he presses his ear to the door and listens for movement, like some old-timey spy.
Silence.
When he hears nothing for a long while, he cracks open the door, peering out into the hallway stealthily.
(He doesn’t know why he’s being so sneaky. It’s not like Shuuji+
Silence.
When he hears nothing for a long while, he cracks open the door, peering out into the hallway stealthily.
(He doesn’t know why he’s being so sneaky. It’s not like Shuuji+
Is waiting in the hallway to jump out at him, slinging accusations on why Chuuya was sleeping in his fathers bed.
And it’s not like Dazai is /waiting/ for him to wake up, right?)
Either way, the hallway is empty and silent. He creeps out on his tiptoes, shutting the door +
And it’s not like Dazai is /waiting/ for him to wake up, right?)
Either way, the hallway is empty and silent. He creeps out on his tiptoes, shutting the door +
quietly behind the dogs.
He makes it to the stairs without incident, taking each step slowly and quietly.
He’s doing /so/ well, until he gets to the bottom stair and—
The dogs come thundering down after him, nearly pushing each other down the stairs in their efforts to be +
He makes it to the stairs without incident, taking each step slowly and quietly.
He’s doing /so/ well, until he gets to the bottom stair and—
The dogs come thundering down after him, nearly pushing each other down the stairs in their efforts to be +
the /first/ one down the stairs.
Whirling around, he hisses, “you two are /actually/ killing me.”
Koop ignores him, brushing past him on his way to the kitchen. Yoko sits at his feet, tail wagging and giving him her best doggy smile.
Oh, fuck it then. It’s too late to do+
Whirling around, he hisses, “you two are /actually/ killing me.”
Koop ignores him, brushing past him on his way to the kitchen. Yoko sits at his feet, tail wagging and giving him her best doggy smile.
Oh, fuck it then. It’s too late to do+
his walk of shame—without the shame part— in silence.
The living room seems exactly as it was last night, TV off and couch empty.
He turns the corner into the kitchen, Yoko on his heels—
And is greeted with the most /heavenly/ sight he’s ever seen.
/Oh my god./+
The living room seems exactly as it was last night, TV off and couch empty.
He turns the corner into the kitchen, Yoko on his heels—
And is greeted with the most /heavenly/ sight he’s ever seen.
/Oh my god./+
It’s Dazai, leaning with his back against the counters, slumped over lazily. He’s got a cup of what Chuuya thinks is coffee in his hands, holding it near his face as he breathes in the aroma. He seems lost in thought, staring sightlessly in the direction of the living room.
His+
His+
hair is messy, sticking up in random directions and exposing the fresh undercut underneath.
It looks like bedhead, but Chuuya’s brain is silently screaming about /sex/ hair.
That’s not even the worst part.
No, the worst part (the /best/ part) is what he’s wearing—
Grey+
It looks like bedhead, but Chuuya’s brain is silently screaming about /sex/ hair.
That’s not even the worst part.
No, the worst part (the /best/ part) is what he’s wearing—
Grey+
sweatpants that look /coincidentally/ very similar to the ones Chuuya is wearing— and not for the first time, Chuuya is cursing his height, because the counter is high enough and he’s short enough that his vision cuts off at waist level— and...
A button down shirt that is +
A button down shirt that is +
/completely/ unbuttoned, revealing a wide stripe of Dazai’s chest and torso.
Chuuya swears he just died and is now staring at the pearly gates of heaven, and it has /abs/.And perfectly sculpted pecs.
And a deeply etched V-line, naturally leading his eyes down, down, /further/—+
Chuuya swears he just died and is now staring at the pearly gates of heaven, and it has /abs/.And perfectly sculpted pecs.
And a deeply etched V-line, naturally leading his eyes down, down, /further/—+
Chuuya finally understands why it’s called a happy trail, because that dusting of hair leading downwards makes Chuuya /very/ happy indeed. Also makes him want to /taste/ it, and all those other muscles, /feel/ the strength and effort Dazai has obviously put into his body— +
He’s so fixated on staring at his abs, face slowly turning a bright, burning red, that he barely registers the bandages covering his right shoulder and chest, and both of his forearms from wrist to elbow.
Really, Shuuji could come pounding down the stairs right now and Chuuya+
Really, Shuuji could come pounding down the stairs right now and Chuuya+
would not even notice, so busy is he /drinking/ in the sight of Dazai warm, relaxed, and unaware.
(It’s a good thing that Dazai is /very/ deep in thought, otherwise he would’ve noticed Chuuya a long time ago.)
Eventually, his lungs begin to burn and Chuuya realizes he’s been+
(It’s a good thing that Dazai is /very/ deep in thought, otherwise he would’ve noticed Chuuya a long time ago.)
Eventually, his lungs begin to burn and Chuuya realizes he’s been+
holding his breath. His quiet gasp breaks the silence, and the moment shatters.
Dazai blinks himself back into awareness and Chuuya is stuttering out a “good morning” before he can realize that he’s just been standing here, staring at him.
Caramel eyes turn to him, a little +
Dazai blinks himself back into awareness and Chuuya is stuttering out a “good morning” before he can realize that he’s just been standing here, staring at him.
Caramel eyes turn to him, a little +
hazy and unfocused. “Good morning.”
God, if the /body/ is good, the /voice/ is even better, rough with sleep, low and rumbly. It curls around Chuuya’s spine, strokes over his nerve endings, as intoxicating as any whiskey.
Luckily, Dazai takes that moment to tip his cup up and+
God, if the /body/ is good, the /voice/ is even better, rough with sleep, low and rumbly. It curls around Chuuya’s spine, strokes over his nerve endings, as intoxicating as any whiskey.
Luckily, Dazai takes that moment to tip his cup up and+
swallow the rest of his drink, sharp Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat.
Chuuya makes a strangled noise, fighting to keep his composure. /How/ does he look so effortlessly good, while Chuuya is standing here, swimming in—
In /Dazai’s/ clothes, oh my /god/.
He blames how +
Chuuya makes a strangled noise, fighting to keep his composure. /How/ does he look so effortlessly good, while Chuuya is standing here, swimming in—
In /Dazai’s/ clothes, oh my /god/.
He blames how +
tired he was on why it took him so long to put that together.
He’s wearing Dazai’s clothes. /That’s/ why they’re so big, and why they smell so good.
Dazai pushes off the counter, muscles rippling and moving under his skin.
Chuuya swears he’s going to pass out. He can’t take+
He’s wearing Dazai’s clothes. /That’s/ why they’re so big, and why they smell so good.
Dazai pushes off the counter, muscles rippling and moving under his skin.
Chuuya swears he’s going to pass out. He can’t take+
much more of this.
“Coffee?”
“God, yes,” Chuuya blurts out, barely aware of what Dazai asked him, only that there /was/ a question and there’s only /one/ answer he can come up with right now.
Dazai doesn’t seem to notice any weirdness, reaching up to take another mug out+
“Coffee?”
“God, yes,” Chuuya blurts out, barely aware of what Dazai asked him, only that there /was/ a question and there’s only /one/ answer he can come up with right now.
Dazai doesn’t seem to notice any weirdness, reaching up to take another mug out+
of the cupboard.
Chuuya takes this moment to mourn the fact that he’s not /completely/ shirtless, because he would /kill/ to see his back muscles right now. He knows they’re sexy. He knows it.
After pouring coffee into each cop, Dazai replaces the pot. Turning around, he +
Chuuya takes this moment to mourn the fact that he’s not /completely/ shirtless, because he would /kill/ to see his back muscles right now. He knows they’re sexy. He knows it.
After pouring coffee into each cop, Dazai replaces the pot. Turning around, he +
offers him the cup. “There’s cream in the fridge and sugar in there—“ he gestures to a small container near the coffee pot, “— if you want it.”
However, Dazai starts drinking his right away, which is simultaneously hot and makes Chuuya grimace. He doesn’t like black coffee +
However, Dazai starts drinking his right away, which is simultaneously hot and makes Chuuya grimace. He doesn’t like black coffee +
himself, but anyone who can drink the bitter stuff and actually /enjoys/ it?
Hot. A little crazy, but hot.
Shaking himself to get himself back under control, Chuuya heads for the fridge. The cream is in the door, and he takes it to pour a splash of it into his own cup before+
Hot. A little crazy, but hot.
Shaking himself to get himself back under control, Chuuya heads for the fridge. The cream is in the door, and he takes it to pour a splash of it into his own cup before+
putting it back.
When he brings the mug to his mouth, the aroma hits him. It smells /good/, expensive, rich with caffeine. Chuuya isn’t a /huge/ coffee drinker, so he’s not an expert—
But this is probably the most expensive coffee he’s ever smelled and now— he raises the cup+
When he brings the mug to his mouth, the aroma hits him. It smells /good/, expensive, rich with caffeine. Chuuya isn’t a /huge/ coffee drinker, so he’s not an expert—
But this is probably the most expensive coffee he’s ever smelled and now— he raises the cup+
to his lips— tasted.
Notes of hazelnut and mocha burst over his tongue, sweetly hot. He sighs unwittingly, welcoming the awareness that the coffee starts to bring him as he takes another long sip.
They enjoy their cups in silence for a moment, both of them invested in their+
Notes of hazelnut and mocha burst over his tongue, sweetly hot. He sighs unwittingly, welcoming the awareness that the coffee starts to bring him as he takes another long sip.
They enjoy their cups in silence for a moment, both of them invested in their+
coffee.
Then Dazai sighs, looking over at him with a small, crooked smile. He seems so much more /approachable/ now, without that layer of teasing brought on by his silver tongue— and somehow even hotter for it, because on /top/ of being hot, he also seems like a normal person.+
Then Dazai sighs, looking over at him with a small, crooked smile. He seems so much more /approachable/ now, without that layer of teasing brought on by his silver tongue— and somehow even hotter for it, because on /top/ of being hot, he also seems like a normal person.+
“Are you hungry?”
Now that he mentions it, Chuuya /is/ hungry. Starving, actually.
He hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. He assumed he was going to have dinner with the movie date, so he didn’t eat and then—
Well, then everything /happened/ and he forgot he was hungry+
Now that he mentions it, Chuuya /is/ hungry. Starving, actually.
He hasn’t eaten since lunch yesterday. He assumed he was going to have dinner with the movie date, so he didn’t eat and then—
Well, then everything /happened/ and he forgot he was hungry+
entirely. It’s probably been almost 18 hours since he last ate.
He bobs his head. “Yeah.”
“What do you want? I’ll make you something.”
No he will /not/ because if Dazai starts cooking right now, Chuuya will not be responsible for what he does. A man who knows his way around+
He bobs his head. “Yeah.”
“What do you want? I’ll make you something.”
No he will /not/ because if Dazai starts cooking right now, Chuuya will not be responsible for what he does. A man who knows his way around+
the kitchen is outrageously attractive.
“That’s okay, I’ll just have cereal or whatever you have—“
Dazai stares him down. He does not offer him cereal, or let him off the cook. Apparently he’s /insistent/ on making Chuuya breakfast and won’t take no for an answer.
Naturally,+
“That’s okay, I’ll just have cereal or whatever you have—“
Dazai stares him down. He does not offer him cereal, or let him off the cook. Apparently he’s /insistent/ on making Chuuya breakfast and won’t take no for an answer.
Naturally,+
Chuuyas loses the stare down. Mostly because he can’t actually make eye contact or even look at him without his eyes sliding down to take in his /still open/ shirt.
Dazai, he is learning, does not play fair.
“Fine,” he grumbles to himself, then louder, “I like pancakes? If you+
Dazai, he is learning, does not play fair.
“Fine,” he grumbles to himself, then louder, “I like pancakes? If you+
can make those? If not, eggs are fine—“
“Pancakes it is,” Dazai interrupts him, spinning around to pull out pancake mix from the pantry.
Noticing that Dazai’s mug, sitting on the counter, is already mostly empty, Chuuya takes this moment to refill both of their cups.
That+
“Pancakes it is,” Dazai interrupts him, spinning around to pull out pancake mix from the pantry.
Noticing that Dazai’s mug, sitting on the counter, is already mostly empty, Chuuya takes this moment to refill both of their cups.
That+
earns him a blinding, grateful smile, one that makes Chuuya’s knees weak and his chest clench.
He staggers off to sit at the dining room table before he does something stupid like swoon.
“By the way,” Dazai says, gesturing with his chin at the counter, “I found your phone in+
He staggers off to sit at the dining room table before he does something stupid like swoon.
“By the way,” Dazai says, gesturing with his chin at the counter, “I found your phone in+
the couch.”
Oh. He hadn’t realized he was missing it.
He slinks over to grab it, retreating back to the table to check his messages from last night.
When he turns the screen on, he blinks in surprise. It’s barely 5am.
Personally, he’s a morning person, and he fell asleep+
Oh. He hadn’t realized he was missing it.
He slinks over to grab it, retreating back to the table to check his messages from last night.
When he turns the screen on, he blinks in surprise. It’s barely 5am.
Personally, he’s a morning person, and he fell asleep+
earlier, so it's no surprise that he woke up so early.
Dazai though? He doesn't look like he slept at /all/, with dark circles under his eyes, and a pale expression.
Guilt trickles down his spine. Did he not sleep because Chuuya was in his bed? Or is it because of something +
Dazai though? He doesn't look like he slept at /all/, with dark circles under his eyes, and a pale expression.
Guilt trickles down his spine. Did he not sleep because Chuuya was in his bed? Or is it because of something +
else?
Either way, he doesn't feel like he has the right to ask, so he just opens his phone silently, checking his messages. He has a few twitter notifications, an unopened Snapchat, and a message in the sibling chat he has.
Nothing important, and nothing he particularly wants+
Either way, he doesn't feel like he has the right to ask, so he just opens his phone silently, checking his messages. He has a few twitter notifications, an unopened Snapchat, and a message in the sibling chat he has.
Nothing important, and nothing he particularly wants+
to deal with this early.
Besides, he has a perfectly scrumptious view right /now/, of Dazai mixing a bowl of pancake batter, corded forearms casually flexing with every rotation. He's got a pan already heating on the stove, ready for the mix.
Yoko comes up to him, sniffing at+
Besides, he has a perfectly scrumptious view right /now/, of Dazai mixing a bowl of pancake batter, corded forearms casually flexing with every rotation. He's got a pan already heating on the stove, ready for the mix.
Yoko comes up to him, sniffing at+
his hands and whining softly. Confused, he pets her, unsure of what she wants.Then he notices Kozo sitting at the back door, looking between him and Dazai and the door.
Ah. They've been sleeping all night,they probably need to go outside.
He gets up to open the door for them,+
Ah. They've been sleeping all night,they probably need to go outside.
He gets up to open the door for them,+
realizing too late that he forgot to ask if that was okay--
Dazai doesn't seem to notice or care, finally pouring the batter into the pan with a concentrated look on his face. If he's bothered that Chuuya took initiative with the dogs, it doesn't show.
Well, he's always been +
Dazai doesn't seem to notice or care, finally pouring the batter into the pan with a concentrated look on his face. If he's bothered that Chuuya took initiative with the dogs, it doesn't show.
Well, he's always been +
more understanding with the dogs than Shuuji ever was, so maybe he shouldn't be surprised.
Using his spatula, Dazai flips the pancake easily and perfectly, not a smear of batter out of place. He speaks over his shoulder at Chuuya, "Do you want syrup?"
Technically, Chuuya is+
Using his spatula, Dazai flips the pancake easily and perfectly, not a smear of batter out of place. He speaks over his shoulder at Chuuya, "Do you want syrup?"
Technically, Chuuya is+
supposed to be on a diet that restricts his sugar intact but--
He had a shitty day yesterday, and Dazai is turning to look at him with soft, syrup-colored eyes, and /yeah/, he does want syrup. A lot of it.
A plate stacked high with pancakes--much more than he can eat himself+
He had a shitty day yesterday, and Dazai is turning to look at him with soft, syrup-colored eyes, and /yeah/, he does want syrup. A lot of it.
A plate stacked high with pancakes--much more than he can eat himself+
and Chuuya is torn between being offended that Dazai thinks he can eat so /much/ and being grateful that he didn't hand him a single pancake and expected him to be happy with it-- is placed in front of him, followed by an unopened bottle of syrup and a stick of butter.
He looks+
He looks+
up, opening his mouth to thank Dazai when he realizes that he doesn't have a plate in front of him, only his cup of coffee. "Are you going to eat?" he asks, gesturing to the food, "I can't eat all of these."
Dazai smiles at him indulgently. Sometime when he was cooking, he'd +
Dazai smiles at him indulgently. Sometime when he was cooking, he'd +
run his hand through his hair, so while it's still wild and curly, it's mostly swept back away from his face. "I don't like western breakfasts."
Chuuya lowers his fork, frowning. "We could've had something else then--."
Dazai leans back in his chair, setting his mug down. "I +
Chuuya lowers his fork, frowning. "We could've had something else then--."
Dazai leans back in his chair, setting his mug down. "I +
told you earlier, sweetheart," he says slowly, his fingers finding the buttons of his shirt and slowly, oh so slowly, beginning to button them up, "If you want it, it's yours."
Oh, there is certainly /something/ Chuuya wants, mouth dry as he watches Dazai slip the buttons +
Oh, there is certainly /something/ Chuuya wants, mouth dry as he watches Dazai slip the buttons +
in their holes, long fingers sure and confident. It's a shame that his abs are being covered again, but something about watching him button up his shirt again is so /erotic/ that Chuuya can feel heat pooling in his stomach and thighs.
He can't look away, eyes fixed on the sure+
He can't look away, eyes fixed on the sure+
movements of his fingers,and god, is he /imagining/ it that his fingers brush his chest more than strictly necessary, drawing attention to every muscle as it's slowly, torturously, covered up?
Worse than that, Dazai is staring /straight/ at him, while Chuuya figuratively drools+
Worse than that, Dazai is staring /straight/ at him, while Chuuya figuratively drools+
over him, face on fire.
Dazai has a knowing smile, a sharp glint in his eyes, and he /has/ to know. There's no way he doesn't. The tension is so thick in the air that Chuuya feels like he's choking on it, and he's hyponotized, drawn in, always desperate for more--
"I want to +
Dazai has a knowing smile, a sharp glint in his eyes, and he /has/ to know. There's no way he doesn't. The tension is so thick in the air that Chuuya feels like he's choking on it, and he's hyponotized, drawn in, always desperate for more--
"I want to +
ask you something," Dazai says suddenly, jolting Chuuya in his seat.
Embarrassed, he looks down at his pancakes and painstakingly cuts himself a piece. It's not like he can play it cool when he was just staring at Dazai like he was more appetizing than the pancakes on his plate+
Embarrassed, he looks down at his pancakes and painstakingly cuts himself a piece. It's not like he can play it cool when he was just staring at Dazai like he was more appetizing than the pancakes on his plate+
but he tries anyways. "What?"
Dazai stares at him for a while, quietly evaluating, like he's searching for something to confirm thoughts he already has. Then he asks, carefully, like he's not sure of the response, "Did something happen last night?"
Chuuya doesn't freeze, but +
Dazai stares at him for a while, quietly evaluating, like he's searching for something to confirm thoughts he already has. Then he asks, carefully, like he's not sure of the response, "Did something happen last night?"
Chuuya doesn't freeze, but +
it's a close thing, fork noticeably slowing on it's way to his mouth. Before he takes the bite, he asks cautiously, "What makes you ask?"
He can't think of any reason that Dazai would be suspicious. It wasn't a big deal, and it's not like there was a /crime scene/ or something.+
He can't think of any reason that Dazai would be suspicious. It wasn't a big deal, and it's not like there was a /crime scene/ or something.+
Truthfully, he's not even sure why Dazai cares. Sure, he seems like a nice, caring guy, but he doesn't /owe/ Chuuya anything.
(Meanwhile, Dazai is struggling to find the exact words to use. He's well aware that he doesn't know Chuuya as well as he might need to for this +
(Meanwhile, Dazai is struggling to find the exact words to use. He's well aware that he doesn't know Chuuya as well as he might need to for this +
conversation.
He knows he's not exactly a trustworthy figure to him yet, so if something /did/ happen, he might not want to talk about it. And pushing him into a corner by saying that he /knows/ something happened because he was crying--
It might make him feel /attacked/ +
He knows he's not exactly a trustworthy figure to him yet, so if something /did/ happen, he might not want to talk about it. And pushing him into a corner by saying that he /knows/ something happened because he was crying--
It might make him feel /attacked/ +
more than reassured.)
He decides to go with something in a little different direction. "When I got home, the dogs were...antsy. More than they should be or usually would be."
Chuuya chews slowly, contemplating. He's gotten along better with Dazai than with Shuuji but--
Shuuji+
He decides to go with something in a little different direction. "When I got home, the dogs were...antsy. More than they should be or usually would be."
Chuuya chews slowly, contemplating. He's gotten along better with Dazai than with Shuuji but--
Shuuji+
learned that behavior from /somewhere/, right? No one is just born like that.
While Chuuya certainly could have--and should have-- communicated better, at the end of the day, right now--
He's scared that 'like father, like son' thing might be a little more literal than usual.+
While Chuuya certainly could have--and should have-- communicated better, at the end of the day, right now--
He's scared that 'like father, like son' thing might be a little more literal than usual.+
And the idea that that perfect, charming face might twist with anger, that Dazai might raise his voice and /yell/ at him--
It makes him want to /cry/. He wants Dazai to be nice to him. He doesn't want him to be angry, or upset.
Also, he just doesn't want to talk about it, +
It makes him want to /cry/. He wants Dazai to be nice to him. He doesn't want him to be angry, or upset.
Also, he just doesn't want to talk about it, +
mostly because he doesn't know how to /explain/.
'Shuuji did something I've been allowing him to do this whole time but this time I /really/ didn't like it so I freaked out'? 'I couldn't talk about my own feelings so it got me into a situation I didn't like'?
It just seems so+
'Shuuji did something I've been allowing him to do this whole time but this time I /really/ didn't like it so I freaked out'? 'I couldn't talk about my own feelings so it got me into a situation I didn't like'?
It just seems so+
stupid. So avoidable.
Swallowing, he avoids Dazai's eyes as he says, "oh, it's nothing. We just watched a movie, and it was scarier than I thought, so I just freaked out a little. That's all."
He hurriedly takes another bite to give himself time to avoid any follow up +
Swallowing, he avoids Dazai's eyes as he says, "oh, it's nothing. We just watched a movie, and it was scarier than I thought, so I just freaked out a little. That's all."
He hurriedly takes another bite to give himself time to avoid any follow up +
questions, if Dazai has any.
Dazai stares at him for a long while, mulling over his answer. It doesn't /feel/ like the whole truth, and it doesn't explain the dogs behavior. A scary movie with a few jumpscares wouldn't set them off like that.
Part of him wants to push harder, +
Dazai stares at him for a long while, mulling over his answer. It doesn't /feel/ like the whole truth, and it doesn't explain the dogs behavior. A scary movie with a few jumpscares wouldn't set them off like that.
Part of him wants to push harder, +
to ask more questions, to get to the heart of it.
But he also realizes the importance of respecting Chuuya's boundaries, and not forcing him to speak when he doesn't want to.
Besides, he has a /better/ idea than questions.
He rises with his coffee, finishing the last swallow +
But he also realizes the importance of respecting Chuuya's boundaries, and not forcing him to speak when he doesn't want to.
Besides, he has a /better/ idea than questions.
He rises with his coffee, finishing the last swallow +
of his coffee in one gulp before setting the cup in his sink.
Chuuya is sitting in his chair,tension vibrating through him, watching Dazai with a slightly wary expression, which just makes Dazai sad.
He touches the table as he passes by, somewhat close to Chuuya's elbow. "Come+
Chuuya is sitting in his chair,tension vibrating through him, watching Dazai with a slightly wary expression, which just makes Dazai sad.
He touches the table as he passes by, somewhat close to Chuuya's elbow. "Come+
here when you're done, please. I want to show you something."
Then he's gone, disappearing out the back door and leaving Chuuya speechless after him.
Show him /what/, exactly?
It wasn't said with heavy demand or anything that implied a lot of expectation--so, assumingly, he's+
Then he's gone, disappearing out the back door and leaving Chuuya speechless after him.
Show him /what/, exactly?
It wasn't said with heavy demand or anything that implied a lot of expectation--so, assumingly, he's+
free to go back upstairs or in the living room.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious, though.
His coffee is finished up with a few quick swallows, and he takes two more bites of his pancakes to sate most of his hunger. He can eat again later-- he wants to see what Dazai+
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious, though.
His coffee is finished up with a few quick swallows, and he takes two more bites of his pancakes to sate most of his hunger. He can eat again later-- he wants to see what Dazai+
wants.
Cleaning up quickly, he follows him outside.
Dazai is in the middle of the yard, bending over and cleaning up all the dog toys within a space. The dogs are play wrestling with each other on the far side of the yard, chasing eachother for short distances.
A little +
Cleaning up quickly, he follows him outside.
Dazai is in the middle of the yard, bending over and cleaning up all the dog toys within a space. The dogs are play wrestling with each other on the far side of the yard, chasing eachother for short distances.
A little +
hesitant, Chuuya makes his way down to him. The grass is cold but not wet under his socks.
"What did you want to show me?"He asks.
Dazai turns to him, and Chuuya is reminded all over again how /tall/ he is, towering over him. Somehow, it's easy to forget, because Dazai doesn't+
"What did you want to show me?"He asks.
Dazai turns to him, and Chuuya is reminded all over again how /tall/ he is, towering over him. Somehow, it's easy to forget, because Dazai doesn't+
enforce his height, he just simply /is/.
His shoulders are broad enough to block out the entire world, narrowing down Chuuya's awareness to just the space between them. He's big enough to hide behind, to curl into, to be pressed up against and have nothing else bother him. +
His shoulders are broad enough to block out the entire world, narrowing down Chuuya's awareness to just the space between them. He's big enough to hide behind, to curl into, to be pressed up against and have nothing else bother him. +
Dazai tilts his head in the direction of the dogs. "I'm going to teach you how to command them."
His eyebrows shoot up, baffled. "That doesn't seem smart? Why would you tell a stranger how to command your guard dogs?"
Dazai huffs out a breath, looking amused. "You're not a +
His eyebrows shoot up, baffled. "That doesn't seem smart? Why would you tell a stranger how to command your guard dogs?"
Dazai huffs out a breath, looking amused. "You're not a +
stranger to them, not anymore. If they're going to protect you, then it's dangerous for you and them if you don't know how to handle them and the situation."
What is he talking about? Why would they be protecting him? Sure, they /like/ him, but he's probably not going to be +
What is he talking about? Why would they be protecting him? Sure, they /like/ him, but he's probably not going to be +
around long enough or /often/ enough for him to make use of training. “I...don’t think they’d do that?”
“Trust me,” Dazai says, his smile strained, “they will protect you.”
Well—
Is Chuuya really going to say no to learning how to control highly-trained guard dogs?
No, he’s+
“Trust me,” Dazai says, his smile strained, “they will protect you.”
Well—
Is Chuuya really going to say no to learning how to control highly-trained guard dogs?
No, he’s+
not. It’d be fun to know, and maybe Yoko has some cool tricks to show on his Snapchat story later.
“Okay,” he says, nodding his head determinedly, “teach me.”
Dazai’s smile grows, turning into something happy and a little bit proud. “Good,” he murmurs, taking a step so he’s +
“Okay,” he says, nodding his head determinedly, “teach me.”
Dazai’s smile grows, turning into something happy and a little bit proud. “Good,” he murmurs, taking a step so he’s +
standing just behind and to the right of Chuuya. “I want you to repeat after me.”
He bends down lower, probably so Chuuya can hear him better, but all he can think about is the sudden rush of Dazai’s hot breath over his ear, his voice so close his soul seems to vibrate along+
He bends down lower, probably so Chuuya can hear him better, but all he can think about is the sudden rush of Dazai’s hot breath over his ear, his voice so close his soul seems to vibrate along+
with every word he says.
Then there’s silence, and Chuuya keeps waiting for the next word to come, eyes half-lidded with the desire for more of that deep rumble—
Wait, that was it, wasn’t it? He wasn’t listening.
“Uh,” he hedges, glad he doesn’t have to look at Dazai directly+
Then there’s silence, and Chuuya keeps waiting for the next word to come, eyes half-lidded with the desire for more of that deep rumble—
Wait, that was it, wasn’t it? He wasn’t listening.
“Uh,” he hedges, glad he doesn’t have to look at Dazai directly+
as he says, “can you say it again?”
There’s a second of pause—
Then another breath, this one cold on his ear, and harder than the rest. A quiet reprimand, like blowing on a cat when it’s being naughty.
“Pay attention, brat.”
/Brat/.
He instinctively scowls, because +
There’s a second of pause—
Then another breath, this one cold on his ear, and harder than the rest. A quiet reprimand, like blowing on a cat when it’s being naughty.
“Pay attention, brat.”
/Brat/.
He instinctively scowls, because +
he’s only been called a brat when he was acting up as a /kid/. He might be young compared to Dazai, but he’s /not/ a kid anymore.
Then Dazai is speaking again, slowly, carefully enunciating every syllable of the command.
It sounds like it’s in a different language, harsh and+
Then Dazai is speaking again, slowly, carefully enunciating every syllable of the command.
It sounds like it’s in a different language, harsh and+
guttural, the syllables strange on his tongue.
German, maybe?
Chuuya tries it himself, a little stumbling, but he’s always been good with languages so he picks it up rather quickly.
The first time he says it right, he turns to Dazai with a proud grin, giddy at his success.+
German, maybe?
Chuuya tries it himself, a little stumbling, but he’s always been good with languages so he picks it up rather quickly.
The first time he says it right, he turns to Dazai with a proud grin, giddy at his success.+
Dazai is already smiling back at him, charmingly perfect. “Good. Now say it like you /mean/ it.”
He straightens his shoulders, taking a deep breath. The command is said from his chest this time, sharp and harsh.
The results are instant, the dogs immediately pausing in their +
He straightens his shoulders, taking a deep breath. The command is said from his chest this time, sharp and harsh.
The results are instant, the dogs immediately pausing in their +
play and rushing over.
They stop at his feet, sitting down with their ears alert and their eyes fixed in him.
He has to admit, that /does/ make him feel powerful, dangerous. In control. Almost like carrying a gun in his hand, except /this/ weapon is 50kgs and has /fangs/. +
They stop at his feet, sitting down with their ears alert and their eyes fixed in him.
He has to admit, that /does/ make him feel powerful, dangerous. In control. Almost like carrying a gun in his hand, except /this/ weapon is 50kgs and has /fangs/. +
Dazai teaches him a few more commands and hand gestures, guiding him through making the dogs sit, lay down, stay, guard.
Basic commands, ones that Chuuya would expect from any decently trained dog. To be honest, while if /does/ feel good, it’s not very /exciting/.
When you +
Basic commands, ones that Chuuya would expect from any decently trained dog. To be honest, while if /does/ feel good, it’s not very /exciting/.
When you +
think of guard dogs, you think of giving them a command to attack and watching someone get tackled. You don’t really think of ‘sit, stay, release’.
But then—
Dazai teaches him something /cool/.
He’s taken Kozo away for this, leashing him to a post on the other side of the+
But then—
Dazai teaches him something /cool/.
He’s taken Kozo away for this, leashing him to a post on the other side of the+
yard. That leaves Yoko at his feet, alert and ready.
“I want you to remember that these dogs are /dangerous/. Kozo alone will take down someone my size. And Yoko—,” he pauses there, a smile growing sharp and fierce in his face, “I have her to find anything she can’t defeat, +
“I want you to remember that these dogs are /dangerous/. Kozo alone will take down someone my size. And Yoko—,” he pauses there, a smile growing sharp and fierce in his face, “I have her to find anything she can’t defeat, +
given the right motivation.”
Chuuya shifts on his feet, a little confused. He would’ve assumed that, because Kozo is bigger, he’d be the more dangerous one. “Kozo is bigger though? Shouldn’t he be scarier?”
“In terms of size, yes. But in motivation? Yoko’s your girl.”
The+
Chuuya shifts on his feet, a little confused. He would’ve assumed that, because Kozo is bigger, he’d be the more dangerous one. “Kozo is bigger though? Shouldn’t he be scarier?”
“In terms of size, yes. But in motivation? Yoko’s your girl.”
The+
next command is longer, a little more complicated, but once he gets it right—
Yoko hugs his feet, her head lowered with intent and the hair along her spine rising up. She’s always been intimidating but now she looks /frightening/.
Dazai starts to circle him, keeping a careful+
Yoko hugs his feet, her head lowered with intent and the hair along her spine rising up. She’s always been intimidating but now she looks /frightening/.
Dazai starts to circle him, keeping a careful+
distance between them. His walk shifts into something more of a /prowl/, hips swaying to keep his weight evenly centered over his feet, his footsteps utterly silent. His eyes, burnt sugar and whiskey, never leave him, unwavering.
He looks dangerous, a stalking predator, with +
He looks dangerous, a stalking predator, with +
his prey run down, vulnerable, exactly where Dazai wants him.
Yoko follows his progress, circling tightly around Chuuya’s feet.
Dazai is at his back now,his presence like a crackling thunderstorm, rolling over Chuuya’s nerves with electricity and the smell of something /wild/.+
Yoko follows his progress, circling tightly around Chuuya’s feet.
Dazai is at his back now,his presence like a crackling thunderstorm, rolling over Chuuya’s nerves with electricity and the smell of something /wild/.+
Nornally, Chuuya would be turning with him. His martial arts masters would be rolling in their graves if they saw that he had let someone go behind him—
But he’s frozen now, a mouse underneath the cat’s paw, with nothing else to do but tremble in place and /hope/.
“This is +
But he’s frozen now, a mouse underneath the cat’s paw, with nothing else to do but tremble in place and /hope/.
“This is +
called a secure. Her job is to ensure that /no one/ enters your space.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dazai /lunge/, and Chuuya is immediately sinking into a defensive position, knees bent and braced for impact—
But Yoko is already there, rearing up on her hind legs+
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dazai /lunge/, and Chuuya is immediately sinking into a defensive position, knees bent and braced for impact—
But Yoko is already there, rearing up on her hind legs+
and letting out the loudest and most /vicious/ snarl Chuuya has ever heard, teeth snapping shut inches away from Dazai’s outstretched fingers.
Dazai backs off nimbly, and now it feels like a /game/, with his eyes lit up with energy, feet light.
“Not me.”
Again, he lunges,+
Dazai backs off nimbly, and now it feels like a /game/, with his eyes lit up with energy, feet light.
“Not me.”
Again, he lunges,+
his hand reaching for Chuuya’s face—
The snarl Yoko lets out sounds like she would tear a man in two, all of her teeth ready to sink into Dazai’s arm.
He jumps backward, a wild grin on his face. He doesn’t even look part of this /world/ anymore, like he’s some fierce, untamed+
The snarl Yoko lets out sounds like she would tear a man in two, all of her teeth ready to sink into Dazai’s arm.
He jumps backward, a wild grin on his face. He doesn’t even look part of this /world/ anymore, like he’s some fierce, untamed+
creature, come to play and tease and taunt.
“Not Shuuji.”
/That/ makes Chuuya’s eyes narrow, wondering if he knows more than he lets on.
Dazai goes for the back of the knees this time, like he’s going to topple him over and get him on his back.
Just as quickly, he has to +
“Not Shuuji.”
/That/ makes Chuuya’s eyes narrow, wondering if he knows more than he lets on.
Dazai goes for the back of the knees this time, like he’s going to topple him over and get him on his back.
Just as quickly, he has to +
snatch his arm back when Yoko greets him with fangs and claws and a vicious snarl.
“She won’t chase,” he says, and he’s right, because when he backs up, she doesn’t follow, keeping to her right circle around his feet. “But if you approach me...”
Raising his hands, he beckons+
“She won’t chase,” he says, and he’s right, because when he backs up, she doesn’t follow, keeping to her right circle around his feet. “But if you approach me...”
Raising his hands, he beckons+
Chuuya forward, giving him a come-get-me-grin.
He’s stepping forward automatically, drawn in by the sight of him playing, inviting him in, asking him to join his game.
Yoko moves with him easily enough, and when he gets close enough, she’s forcing Dazai to back off with a +
He’s stepping forward automatically, drawn in by the sight of him playing, inviting him in, asking him to join his game.
Yoko moves with him easily enough, and when he gets close enough, she’s forcing Dazai to back off with a +
series of loud barks and growls.
Dazai steps back, stride for stride, and now Chuuya is chasing /him/ around the yard, like a higher-stakes version of tag.
It feels /good/ like this, in the center of Yoko’s circle, like there’s no where safer for him in the entire world. +
Dazai steps back, stride for stride, and now Chuuya is chasing /him/ around the yard, like a higher-stakes version of tag.
It feels /good/ like this, in the center of Yoko’s circle, like there’s no where safer for him in the entire world. +
Just like that, the remains of anxiety and leftover panic are starting to fade away, soothed by the sight of Yoko so fierce in her defense.
Would he ever use her like this? Probably not.
But knowing that he /could/, and she would respond to his command—
It feels fucking +
Would he ever use her like this? Probably not.
But knowing that he /could/, and she would respond to his command—
It feels fucking +
/powerful/, better than any of the times he succeeded in his martial arts classes.
Eventually he herds Dazai almost into a corner— it’s not quite, he could still escape— but Dazai raises his hands with a slow, self-satisfied grin, giving him the metaphorical white flag.
Chuuya+
Eventually he herds Dazai almost into a corner— it’s not quite, he could still escape— but Dazai raises his hands with a slow, self-satisfied grin, giving him the metaphorical white flag.
Chuuya+
wins.
He takes a step back, drawing Yoko away. After a moment of searching his memory, he gives her the release signal, and crouches down to reward her with lots of pets.
Dazai stands in his place, looking altogether smug as he watches them together.
(Chuuya doesn’t realize+
He takes a step back, drawing Yoko away. After a moment of searching his memory, he gives her the release signal, and crouches down to reward her with lots of pets.
Dazai stands in his place, looking altogether smug as he watches them together.
(Chuuya doesn’t realize+
it,but the exercise wasn’t just about teaching Chuuya how to control the dogs.
It was about teaching him that he wasn’t /alone/.
It was about teaching him that there was always /someone/—soon to be /two/ someones—who were willing to do whatever it took to keep him safe.)
— +
It was about teaching him that he wasn’t /alone/.
It was about teaching him that there was always /someone/—soon to be /two/ someones—who were willing to do whatever it took to keep him safe.)
— +
After breakfast and playtime, Chuuya realizes that there's two problems he hasn't solved yet.
First off, his socks are now grass stained and dirty, and he's a bit sweaty. He needs a shower, badly.
Secondly, and this might be the more worrisome one-- he doesn't know how he's +
First off, his socks are now grass stained and dirty, and he's a bit sweaty. He needs a shower, badly.
Secondly, and this might be the more worrisome one-- he doesn't know how he's +
going to get /home/.
Shuuji hasn't come down from his room the entire morning, so either he's /not/ going to come down, he's not home, or he's passed out so deeply that even the noise of the dogs won't wake him up.
If he's still asleep, Chuuya doesn't want to go in there and+
Shuuji hasn't come down from his room the entire morning, so either he's /not/ going to come down, he's not home, or he's passed out so deeply that even the noise of the dogs won't wake him up.
If he's still asleep, Chuuya doesn't want to go in there and+
wake him up before he's ready, and if he's /busy/, he doesn't want to disturb him.
And if he's not home--
Chuuya doesn't think about that, the idea that he walked past Chuuya curled up and miserably asleep on the couch and did nothing about it. He didn't even have a pillow.+
And if he's not home--
Chuuya doesn't think about that, the idea that he walked past Chuuya curled up and miserably asleep on the couch and did nothing about it. He didn't even have a pillow.+
He puts it off as long as he can, playing with the dogs and having fun with Dazai in the backyard but eventually,his phone dies and he can't avoid it any longer.
Dazai loans him a charger, clearing off a space for him in the kitchen to plug his phone in. It's almost 9am by now,+
Dazai loans him a charger, clearing off a space for him in the kitchen to plug his phone in. It's almost 9am by now,+
and if Chuuya is going to start searching for a ride -- maybe an Uber or a walk to the nearest station-- he should start soon.
First though:
"May I use your shower, please?" Chuuya asks politely, looking up at Dazai with pleading eyes.
He still doesn't know where he stands+
First though:
"May I use your shower, please?" Chuuya asks politely, looking up at Dazai with pleading eyes.
He still doesn't know where he stands+
with Shuuji, and if he's not going to come back for a while--or maybe not ever-- then he wants to experience the sheer /brilliance/ of that shower while he has the chance.
"Of course," Dazai says easily, though his eyes have sharpened and zeroed in on the stretch of Chuuya's +
"Of course," Dazai says easily, though his eyes have sharpened and zeroed in on the stretch of Chuuya's +
collarbone, exposed by the too-big collar of Dazai's shirt.He looks hungry. "Towels are in the linen closet."
Chuuya nods gratefully,not even noticing the way Dazai's eyes are locked on him as he turns around and walks out of the kitchen.
He's a bit louder coming up the stairs+
Chuuya nods gratefully,not even noticing the way Dazai's eyes are locked on him as he turns around and walks out of the kitchen.
He's a bit louder coming up the stairs+
this time, on the off chance that Shuuji will decide to wake up in time. He was respectfully silent the first time coming down, but it's been /hours/, and the day has already started.
Dazai's room and office look more interesting in the brighter light. He can see the odd +
Dazai's room and office look more interesting in the brighter light. He can see the odd +
file and paperwork strewn over the desk. On the wall, there's a beautiful hanging collection of knives, gleaming. He'd say that they were purely for decoration, but he touches one out of curiosity, and they're /wickedly/ sharp.
They're so ridiculously easy to pull off the wall.+
They're so ridiculously easy to pull off the wall.+
Not exactly harmless decoration then, are they?
When he makes his way into the bathroom, he beelines for the shower.The faucet is tricky and a little complicated to work, but he gets it after a long moment of fiddling.
The door does have a lock, but he doesn't use it, choosing+
When he makes his way into the bathroom, he beelines for the shower.The faucet is tricky and a little complicated to work, but he gets it after a long moment of fiddling.
The door does have a lock, but he doesn't use it, choosing+
to leave the door just /slightly/ ajar. Yoko has followed him up and has taken to laying outside the door, and after this morning--
He's feeling /bold/.
(Currently, Dazai is downstairs and fighting with every bone in his body to stop imagining Chuuya in /his/ shower, wet and+
He's feeling /bold/.
(Currently, Dazai is downstairs and fighting with every bone in his body to stop imagining Chuuya in /his/ shower, wet and+
naked and /so/ pretty with that big, happy grin of his.
He's been in /torment/ the whole morning, forced to watch Chuuya laugh and smile while wearing /his/ clothes, adorably big on him, slipping off his shoulders.
Dazai wants to /taste/ that collarbone, but he /can't/. He +
He's been in /torment/ the whole morning, forced to watch Chuuya laugh and smile while wearing /his/ clothes, adorably big on him, slipping off his shoulders.
Dazai wants to /taste/ that collarbone, but he /can't/. He +
know there was progress today -- the adorable flush on Chuuya's face as he buttoned up his shirt is /still/ on his mind, and there was a point where Chuuya leaned up against him, giggling-- but it's not enough.
Even if it /was/, he's still torn on if he /should/.
Either way, +
Even if it /was/, he's still torn on if he /should/.
Either way, +
the thought of Chuuya in /his/ shower, the shower where Dazai jerked off to thoughts about him literally a week ago--
It's driving him /insane/. Driving him to the brinks of his very thin, very /tested/ self-control.)
The water is blissful, immediately hot and filling the room+
It's driving him /insane/. Driving him to the brinks of his very thin, very /tested/ self-control.)
The water is blissful, immediately hot and filling the room+
with steam. The water pressure is /fantastic/, pounding down on him with the strength to soothe any sore muscles. It's heaven compared to the weak trickle back at the dorm showers.
He spends a while messing with the remote on the wall-- there's colored lights on the /ceiling/+
He spends a while messing with the remote on the wall-- there's colored lights on the /ceiling/+
which make no logical sense to have, but he does feel very cool and sexy with gold-tinted water pouring down on him from above-- and then he spends just as much time going through Dazai's shower stuff.
He opens every bottle and sniffs it generously. Just out of curiousity, of+
He opens every bottle and sniffs it generously. Just out of curiousity, of+
course, not because he like the way the man /smells/.
He does have a decent array of items, which includes a seperate facewash, body wash and hair stuff, which is a relief.
(Chuuya saw that 5-in-1 soap in the /other/ shower, and he was /worried/ about who it belonged to.)+
He does have a decent array of items, which includes a seperate facewash, body wash and hair stuff, which is a relief.
(Chuuya saw that 5-in-1 soap in the /other/ shower, and he was /worried/ about who it belonged to.)+
Eventually, he runs out of things to prolong his shower, so he finally gets to washing his hair and body, luxuriating in the feel of Dazai's bodywash.
He still doesn't have a toothbrush, so he makes do with scrubbing his finger over his teeth and rinsing out his mouth with the+
He still doesn't have a toothbrush, so he makes do with scrubbing his finger over his teeth and rinsing out his mouth with the+
water.
When he shuts off the water and steps out, the room is mostly filled with steam, though it's quickly escaping out the cracked doorway.
The linen closet is /heated/ which is such a simple luxury that Chuuya never knew he needed, because the feeling of the hot towel +
When he shuts off the water and steps out, the room is mostly filled with steam, though it's quickly escaping out the cracked doorway.
The linen closet is /heated/ which is such a simple luxury that Chuuya never knew he needed, because the feeling of the hot towel +
against him is /heaven/.
Then he comes across the next problem:
What is he going to wear?
His jeans, because while Dazai's sweats /were/ comfortable, it's very distinctly not public wear. If he has to order an Uber or something, he doesn't want to do it in sweats that are+
Then he comes across the next problem:
What is he going to wear?
His jeans, because while Dazai's sweats /were/ comfortable, it's very distinctly not public wear. If he has to order an Uber or something, he doesn't want to do it in sweats that are+
very obviously three times too big for him.
His underwear is also a no go, because it feels gross to be wearing it after he'd been sweating and running around in it. Going commando for a few hours isn't that big of a deal to him.
The shirt, he hesitates on. He /could/ put+
His underwear is also a no go, because it feels gross to be wearing it after he'd been sweating and running around in it. Going commando for a few hours isn't that big of a deal to him.
The shirt, he hesitates on. He /could/ put+
on his sweater from last night, and there's a large part of him telling him he should. Dazai might have let him borrow his clothes for /breakfast/ but that didn't mean he could wear them longer than that.
But...
His sweater is a little tight on his arms,and it looks way better+
But...
His sweater is a little tight on his arms,and it looks way better+
than it feels. By contrast, Dazai's shirt is big, soft and wonderfully loose on him. It's comfortable.
Fuck it. He pulls the shirt back on, and takes the ends in his hands, tying them tightly together around his waist. He leaves just the last button undone, exposing his +
Fuck it. He pulls the shirt back on, and takes the ends in his hands, tying them tightly together around his waist. He leaves just the last button undone, exposing his +
collarbone and the first few inches of his chest. Of course, he has to roll the sleeves up multiple times to keep his hands free, but it works.
He can't do anything about how often the collar slides off his shoulders, but it's not scandalous or anything, so he brushes it off.+
He can't do anything about how often the collar slides off his shoulders, but it's not scandalous or anything, so he brushes it off.+
So far, the worst crime Dazai has committed is that the man does not own a blowdryer or /anything/ Chuuya can use for his hair, so he has to settle for squeezing most of the moisture out of it and leaving it to dry wild.
He takes his dirty socks, underwear and sweater with him+
He takes his dirty socks, underwear and sweater with him+
when he leaves the bathroom, hanging up his towel because he can’t find a laundry hamper.
He smiles at himself in the mirror as he leaves, because even though he doesn’t have any makeup, he looks a /lot/ better than he did this morning.
Pink with the heat, the circles under+
He smiles at himself in the mirror as he leaves, because even though he doesn’t have any makeup, he looks a /lot/ better than he did this morning.
Pink with the heat, the circles under+
his eyes gone, eyes clearer. Even his freckles seem rejuvenated by his stint in the sun, prominent over his nose.
He looks better than he did. He /feels/ better, by a lot.
Yoko is still sprawled across the bedroom floor, waiting patiently for him. He crouches down to give +
He looks better than he did. He /feels/ better, by a lot.
Yoko is still sprawled across the bedroom floor, waiting patiently for him. He crouches down to give +
her a scratch behind the ear before making his way back downstairs.
Shuuji is still nowhere to be seen, but Dazai is sitting at the dining room table, legs sprawled out to take up as much room as possible as he scrolls on his phone.
He looks up as Chuuya enters, and for a+
Shuuji is still nowhere to be seen, but Dazai is sitting at the dining room table, legs sprawled out to take up as much room as possible as he scrolls on his phone.
He looks up as Chuuya enters, and for a+
second he just looks /struck/, eyes widening comically and hand freezing mid-motion.
The room feels wired for a second, tension crackling in the air and surging quickly, building to a breaking point—
Then Dazai is wiping his hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.+
The room feels wired for a second, tension crackling in the air and surging quickly, building to a breaking point—
Then Dazai is wiping his hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.+
“This is /so/ not fair,” he mutters to himself. He’s wearing his /shirt/. Styled too, because he /chose/ it and /put it on/ and wanted to look /cute/ in it.
We’re not even going to /discuss/ the slightly see-through patches on his shoulders and chest caused by his dripping wet+
We’re not even going to /discuss/ the slightly see-through patches on his shoulders and chest caused by his dripping wet+
hair.
Dazai is /only/ a man, after all. He has his limits and Chuuya is quickly finding /all/ of them.
The redhead glances down at himself, frowning. He didn’t think wearing his shirt was a big deal, but since Dazai is squeezing his eyes shut like he’s in pain and taking deep,+
Dazai is /only/ a man, after all. He has his limits and Chuuya is quickly finding /all/ of them.
The redhead glances down at himself, frowning. He didn’t think wearing his shirt was a big deal, but since Dazai is squeezing his eyes shut like he’s in pain and taking deep,+
even breaths, maybe it /is/.
“Sorry,” he mutters, feeling sheepish, “I just didn’t want to wear my sweater, but I can go put it on—“
That makes Dazai look up, and even though his expression is strained, his voice is genuine. “No, no, sweetheart. You look—“ /edible/ “—nice.”+
“Sorry,” he mutters, feeling sheepish, “I just didn’t want to wear my sweater, but I can go put it on—“
That makes Dazai look up, and even though his expression is strained, his voice is genuine. “No, no, sweetheart. You look—“ /edible/ “—nice.”+
Heat immediately blooms across Chuuya's cheeks, sending a sliver of embarassment shooting through him. It wasn't even a /smooth/ compliment, and certainly not the most /suave/ thing Dazai has said to him, but something about the direct compliment makes his stomach fill with +
butterflies.
“Oh,” he says lamely, wishing he could come up with something cool to say back, but all he can think of is ‘your /lap/ looks nice—‘ and he’s not saying /that/. “Thanks.”
He saves the bundle of clothes in his hand, smiling sheepishly. “Do you have a bag that I +
“Oh,” he says lamely, wishing he could come up with something cool to say back, but all he can think of is ‘your /lap/ looks nice—‘ and he’s not saying /that/. “Thanks.”
He saves the bundle of clothes in his hand, smiling sheepishly. “Do you have a bag that I +
could use for these?”
(Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Dazai curses how observant he is. Because clearly, Chuuya tried to ball up his clothes as tightly as possible, but there’s a moment when the sweater sleeve flies back and he catches a glimpse of a +
(Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Dazai curses how observant he is. Because clearly, Chuuya tried to ball up his clothes as tightly as possible, but there’s a moment when the sweater sleeve flies back and he catches a glimpse of a +
recognizable waistband—
And then Dazai /knows/.
He grips the edge of the table so hard the wood creaks, jaw aching with how hard he’s gritting his teeth together to get himself /back/ under control.
He is /not/ going to do anything reckless with the little /minx/ who is +
And then Dazai /knows/.
He grips the edge of the table so hard the wood creaks, jaw aching with how hard he’s gritting his teeth together to get himself /back/ under control.
He is /not/ going to do anything reckless with the little /minx/ who is +
wearing /his/ shirt, a pair of sinfully tight jeans and just /accidentally/ flashed that he’s not wearing any underwear.
He won’t.
God, he /wants/ to, he’ll make it /so/ good for him, for them both—
/No./)
Mute, Dazai points at a cupboard underneath the sink, muscles in his+
He won’t.
God, he /wants/ to, he’ll make it /so/ good for him, for them both—
/No./)
Mute, Dazai points at a cupboard underneath the sink, muscles in his+
jaw working frantically. His eyes look like they’re on /fire/, alive with heat.
Chuuya crosses over, bending over innocently to reach into the cupboard—
Something /snaps/.
The sound makes Chuuya jump, looking up in shock.
Dazai looks irritated and sheepish, one hand +
Chuuya crosses over, bending over innocently to reach into the cupboard—
Something /snaps/.
The sound makes Chuuya jump, looking up in shock.
Dazai looks irritated and sheepish, one hand +
gripping onto the table like someone is trying to steal it from him—
And shaking the other, the remains of what /used/ to be his coffee cup on the table. There’s coffee everywhere and Dazai’s hand is bleeding from the shards.
“Are you alright?” Chuuya asks, concerned. It+
And shaking the other, the remains of what /used/ to be his coffee cup on the table. There’s coffee everywhere and Dazai’s hand is bleeding from the shards.
“Are you alright?” Chuuya asks, concerned. It+
doesn’t look like a /lot/ of blood, but it’s already starting to drip down his palm and over his wrist.
“Yeah,” Dazai grumbles, shoving back from his chair. “I’m fine. Forgot my own strength, I guess.”
With his other hand, he picks up most of the ceramic shards, tossing them+
“Yeah,” Dazai grumbles, shoving back from his chair. “I’m fine. Forgot my own strength, I guess.”
With his other hand, he picks up most of the ceramic shards, tossing them+
into the trash.
Chuuya goes to offer to help clean up the mess, or his hand, because it looks /painful/—
But Dazai barely even /looks/ at him before he’s disappearing around the corner and up the stairs, footsteps heavy.
...what was /that/ about?
He stares after him for +
Chuuya goes to offer to help clean up the mess, or his hand, because it looks /painful/—
But Dazai barely even /looks/ at him before he’s disappearing around the corner and up the stairs, footsteps heavy.
...what was /that/ about?
He stares after him for +
a second, before shaking himself and turning back to what he was doing.
There are several bags under the counter, and he takes the smallest, most unnecessary looking one, shoving his clothes into it haphazardly.
His phone is completely charged by now, so he unplugs it, taking+
There are several bags under the counter, and he takes the smallest, most unnecessary looking one, shoving his clothes into it haphazardly.
His phone is completely charged by now, so he unplugs it, taking+
the cord and leaving it in clear view on the counter.
He shoots off a few texts to his friends, asking if any of them have a car or can pick him up at all.Out of curiosity, he checks the price for an Uber from this address, and winces at the price.
Dazai is still upstairs, and+
He shoots off a few texts to his friends, asking if any of them have a car or can pick him up at all.Out of curiosity, he checks the price for an Uber from this address, and winces at the price.
Dazai is still upstairs, and+
the coffee is creeping across the table, and there’s nothing else to do as he waits so—
He takes a rag he finds in the kitchen and cleans it up quickly, mopping up the mess and tossing the remaining pieces. It only takes a minute, and it makes Chuuya feel like he’s repaid +
He takes a rag he finds in the kitchen and cleans it up quickly, mopping up the mess and tossing the remaining pieces. It only takes a minute, and it makes Chuuya feel like he’s repaid +
how much fun he had this morning, and for lending him his clothes, and generally just allowing him to /look/ upon his hotness.
Yoko asks to go outside again, so he lets her out to join Kozo in the backyard.
There’s the ding of a incoming text, so he trots back over to check+
Yoko asks to go outside again, so he lets her out to join Kozo in the backyard.
There’s the ding of a incoming text, so he trots back over to check+
hoping it’s a /yes/ so he can get out of here before it starts to get awkward—
[YUAN]: sorry I’m traveling today, I’m not in town :(
[KOUYOU]: Sorry Chuuya, I’ve got a ton of work today that I can’t miss. :(
Well, fuck.
He groans, slumping over the counter. He /really/+
[YUAN]: sorry I’m traveling today, I’m not in town :(
[KOUYOU]: Sorry Chuuya, I’ve got a ton of work today that I can’t miss. :(
Well, fuck.
He groans, slumping over the counter. He /really/+
doesn’t want to walk. An Uber will take up most of his monthly allowance, and he doesn’t want to ask Dazai because he already made him breakfast and spent all morning with him,surely he has more important things to do than to take him home—
“What happened?”
Not realizing Dazai+
“What happened?”
Not realizing Dazai+
had returned, Chuuya flinches a little, head snapping up.
He had changed sometime when he was upstairs, and now he’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a dark grey t-shirt.
(Chuuya is not mourning the view of the button down and the gray sweatpants. He’s not, even though he +
He had changed sometime when he was upstairs, and now he’s wearing a pair of dark jeans and a dark grey t-shirt.
(Chuuya is not mourning the view of the button down and the gray sweatpants. He’s not, even though he +
couldn’t /help/ to notice that the bulge was /big/, and he honestly doesn’t know if that’s because /Dazai/ is big or the sweats or just really loose.)
It takes him a second to remember that Dazai had asked him a question. “It’s nothing,” he says, and then when Dazai arches a +
It takes him a second to remember that Dazai had asked him a question. “It’s nothing,” he says, and then when Dazai arches a +
perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, he reluctantly continues, “it’s just— Shuuji still isn’t awake and I don’t know anyone else who can give me a ride. I don’t want to overstay my welcome or anything...”
Most likely, he already /has/. He hadn’t anticipated staying the night, and +
Most likely, he already /has/. He hadn’t anticipated staying the night, and +
Dazai sounds like a busy man.
Said busy man shrugs easily. “Alright. I’ll take you home.”
Chuuya gapes at him. Why is he being so /nice/? “You don’t have to do that—.”
Dazai cuts him off, striding back to the dining room table. “I dont have to— i /want/ to.”
Then, before+
Said busy man shrugs easily. “Alright. I’ll take you home.”
Chuuya gapes at him. Why is he being so /nice/? “You don’t have to do that—.”
Dazai cuts him off, striding back to the dining room table. “I dont have to— i /want/ to.”
Then, before+
Chuuya can overanalyze that statement and the tone in his voice, he’s moving on. “Did you clean the table? You didn’t have to do that.”
Seeing his opportunity and /running/ with it, Chuuya leans his chin on his hands, giving Dazai a slow, self-satisfied smile. “I didn’t have +
Seeing his opportunity and /running/ with it, Chuuya leans his chin on his hands, giving Dazai a slow, self-satisfied smile. “I didn’t have +
to— I wanted to.”
There’s a flash of teeth, an even brighter flash of eyes, and suddenly Dazai is in his space, on the /verge/ of crowding him but not quite.
After this morning, the act of Dazai approaching him doesn’t make him automatically jump away, though his heart leaps+
There’s a flash of teeth, an even brighter flash of eyes, and suddenly Dazai is in his space, on the /verge/ of crowding him but not quite.
After this morning, the act of Dazai approaching him doesn’t make him automatically jump away, though his heart leaps+
into his mouth, suddenly pounding, and he realizes too late that /oh, the dogs are outside, he could actually touch me/—
But he doesn’t, even though a small part of him /aches/ for it. He just leans across the counter with a wicked smile as he murmurs, “/Thank/ you, doll— +
But he doesn’t, even though a small part of him /aches/ for it. He just leans across the counter with a wicked smile as he murmurs, “/Thank/ you, doll— +
I like it when you’re good for me.”
/Shit/. Chuuya has /no/ idea what to say to that, and his only response is to gape at him, eyes wide and a furious blush growing on his face as he tries not to show the heat and pure /want/ that is suddenly growing in his stomach, /lower/— +
/Shit/. Chuuya has /no/ idea what to say to that, and his only response is to gape at him, eyes wide and a furious blush growing on his face as he tries not to show the heat and pure /want/ that is suddenly growing in his stomach, /lower/— +
The curl of Dazai’s lips and the single dimple is making a reappearance, making Chuuya’s heart stutter in his chest with a mixture of affection and desire. Brown eyes dare him to respond, to further the game, call to response.
When it’s clear that Chuuya isn’t going to say +
When it’s clear that Chuuya isn’t going to say +
anything— can’t say anything, actually, because he’s pretty sure he’s biting back a /moan/— Dazai leans back again, smug as always when he wins their little games.
“So— that ride?”
Chuuya’s mind— obviously not in the right place after /that/ statement— jumps immediately to+
“So— that ride?”
Chuuya’s mind— obviously not in the right place after /that/ statement— jumps immediately to+
the image of him in Dazai’s lap, the wet dream reversed, heat and friction building sweet and easy as deliciously strong arms hold him close, that sinful voice in his ear—
Oh god. His cock seems /very/ interested in that imagery, stirring in his pants.
No, no, this /cannot/+
Oh god. His cock seems /very/ interested in that imagery, stirring in his pants.
No, no, this /cannot/+
be happening, that’s so /embarrassing/.
Granted, he is a horny teenager that wakes up hard more often than he doesn’t but—
Dazai hasn’t even /touched/ him. Barely touched him all day, and even those touches were more cautious than /seductive/. Sure, his voice is like warm+
Granted, he is a horny teenager that wakes up hard more often than he doesn’t but—
Dazai hasn’t even /touched/ him. Barely touched him all day, and even those touches were more cautious than /seductive/. Sure, his voice is like warm+
caramel over his senses, but /still/.
It shouldn’t take a few /words/.
Biting the inside of his cheek until it hurts, Chuuya smiles at him gratefully. “Are you sure you’re not busy? It’s not a problem if you are.”
His fingers tap at the counter, and for the first time, +
It shouldn’t take a few /words/.
Biting the inside of his cheek until it hurts, Chuuya smiles at him gratefully. “Are you sure you’re not busy? It’s not a problem if you are.”
His fingers tap at the counter, and for the first time, +
Chuuya notices that his /entire/ hand is wrapped in bandages. Not just his palm, where the cut was, but all the way down his fingers to the second knuckle, with only the joints exposed for movement.
And if he looks closely as his fingers flex—
Is that...
Is that /ink/? +
And if he looks closely as his fingers flex—
Is that...
Is that /ink/? +
He can’t make out any shapes and truthfully, he’s not even sure he’s not just /imagining/ it but—
If those /are/ tattoos on his fingers, that changes a /lot/ of things.
In his generation, tattoos are generally more accepted. But in Dazai’s?
The only people who had tattoos+
If those /are/ tattoos on his fingers, that changes a /lot/ of things.
In his generation, tattoos are generally more accepted. But in Dazai’s?
The only people who had tattoos+
are /Yakuza/.
His mind flashes to the guard dogs, the cars, the knives on the wall—
... Surely someone in the mafia wouldn’t be so nice to him though? Aren’t they supposed to be violent assholes who kill anyone who disagrees with them or gives them attitude?
(Despite his+
His mind flashes to the guard dogs, the cars, the knives on the wall—
... Surely someone in the mafia wouldn’t be so nice to him though? Aren’t they supposed to be violent assholes who kill anyone who disagrees with them or gives them attitude?
(Despite his+
initial scoffing at the ‘demon prodigy’ story, he has /not/ forgotten what Yuan told him.)
He’s probably just imagining things. Or maybe it’s /new/ ink,to celebrate the new cultural norms. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“For you? Never too busy.”
/That/ sounds like flirting!!+
He’s probably just imagining things. Or maybe it’s /new/ ink,to celebrate the new cultural norms. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“For you? Never too busy.”
/That/ sounds like flirting!!+
Is he /imagining/ it or is Dazai flirting with him right now?
He narrows his eyes at him, but the only response he gets is a heart-achingly adorable boyish grin.
“Then yes, please,” he responds, “when is a good time?”
“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.”
He blows out a +
He narrows his eyes at him, but the only response he gets is a heart-achingly adorable boyish grin.
“Then yes, please,” he responds, “when is a good time?”
“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.”
He blows out a +
breath, considering. Now seems like too soon but he’s also had /so/ much happen for the last 16 hours, and honestly he needs some space to digest all his feelings without feeling those wicked eyes watching his every move and setting him on fire.
And as much as Chuuya might +
And as much as Chuuya might +
want to give into the swirling maelstrom of heat and want inside him, there’s at /least/ one reason he can’t:
Shuuji. He’s still upstairs, assumingly, and while things might be /tense/ right now, that doesn’t give him the right to just have an affair with his dad right here in+
Shuuji. He’s still upstairs, assumingly, and while things might be /tense/ right now, that doesn’t give him the right to just have an affair with his dad right here in+
the kitchen of his own home.
Or, well—
Dazai’s home.
He gives Dazai a small, hesitant look. “Is now okay?”
Dazai nods, already moving away. “Sure. Let me get my keys.”
The ease of acceptance makes some tension dissolve in his chest, grateful that he doesn’t have to+
Or, well—
Dazai’s home.
He gives Dazai a small, hesitant look. “Is now okay?”
Dazai nods, already moving away. “Sure. Let me get my keys.”
The ease of acceptance makes some tension dissolve in his chest, grateful that he doesn’t have to+
worry about this anymore.
Shooting off texts to his sister and Yuan to let them know he found his own way home, he shoves his feet in his shoes and gathers up all his stuff.
Down the hallway next to the stairs, there’s a door Chuuya has never seen opened. He assumes it leads+
Shooting off texts to his sister and Yuan to let them know he found his own way home, he shoves his feet in his shoes and gathers up all his stuff.
Down the hallway next to the stairs, there’s a door Chuuya has never seen opened. He assumes it leads+
to the garage, because Dazai has disappeared into it after putting his own shoes on.
He follows curiously, peeking around the door—
And is met with /beauty/.
There’s room for three cars, and it’s taken up by the car Shuuji usually drives, the /beautiful/ motorcycle he +
He follows curiously, peeking around the door—
And is met with /beauty/.
There’s room for three cars, and it’s taken up by the car Shuuji usually drives, the /beautiful/ motorcycle he +
rode in the last time, and the /first/ car he saw, the one Shuuji drove on the night they met.
Somehow, Dazai looks /so/ much more natural and confident as he clicks the button to open up the garage door, unlocking the second, black car.
The first time he rode in it, he felt+
Somehow, Dazai looks /so/ much more natural and confident as he clicks the button to open up the garage door, unlocking the second, black car.
The first time he rode in it, he felt+
like he didn’t belong.
Now, he doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere /else/ as he watches Dazai slide into the seat and reach across the interior to unlock the other door for him.
With all the vehicles in the garage, it’s a bit crowded, so he opens the door carefully, wedging+
Now, he doesn’t feel like he belongs anywhere /else/ as he watches Dazai slide into the seat and reach across the interior to unlock the other door for him.
With all the vehicles in the garage, it’s a bit crowded, so he opens the door carefully, wedging+
himself through the small crack.
This time, the touchpad on the dash comes alive after Dazai’s enters in a quick password, too quick for him to read. The screen clears and offers up a variety of apps, from music to directions to the /internet/.
(Chuuya is suddenly glad that+
This time, the touchpad on the dash comes alive after Dazai’s enters in a quick password, too quick for him to read. The screen clears and offers up a variety of apps, from music to directions to the /internet/.
(Chuuya is suddenly glad that+
Shuji doesn’t know the password, because he’d probably be cruising the web while nearly hitting pedestrians.)
Dazai waits until his seatbelt is on to put the car in gear, twisting in his seat to look behind him as he smoothly reserves.
A pause in the driveway as they wait for+
Dazai waits until his seatbelt is on to put the car in gear, twisting in his seat to look behind him as he smoothly reserves.
A pause in the driveway as they wait for+
the door to close, and then they’re taking off and—
Chuuya realizes he has /another/ problem. He has a lot of those, but this one...
Dazai is absurdly hot while driving. /Ridiculously/ hot.
While Shuuji is pressed close to the steering wheel, like a little old lady who can’t+
Chuuya realizes he has /another/ problem. He has a lot of those, but this one...
Dazai is absurdly hot while driving. /Ridiculously/ hot.
While Shuuji is pressed close to the steering wheel, like a little old lady who can’t+
see over the dash, Dazai is /relaxed/, his seat pushed back to utilize the full length of his legs.
He’s only got one hand on the wheel, palm braced, but somehow he has complete control even with the sharper turns. His other hand, the bandaged one, is dangling over the center+
He’s only got one hand on the wheel, palm braced, but somehow he has complete control even with the sharper turns. His other hand, the bandaged one, is dangling over the center+
console, close enough to touch.
(Close enough to /hold/—.)
Chuuya watches out of the corner of his eye as he drives, muscles in his thighs flexing visibly as he presses on the gas, approaching the turns without even a hint of nerves. He leans with the car, like he’s a part of+
(Close enough to /hold/—.)
Chuuya watches out of the corner of his eye as he drives, muscles in his thighs flexing visibly as he presses on the gas, approaching the turns without even a hint of nerves. He leans with the car, like he’s a part of+
it, accelerating through the turn and coming out smoothly on the other side without even wavering—
Yeah, it’s hot. Like he’s some rebel, reckless race car driver in those drifting movies, like he /owns/ the road, completely confident in his abilities to act and react.
And that+
Yeah, it’s hot. Like he’s some rebel, reckless race car driver in those drifting movies, like he /owns/ the road, completely confident in his abilities to act and react.
And that+
reaction time /is/ quick, Chuuya tested it this morning, and he’s /dying/ to see what it’d look like if he was driving with /real/ speed, eyes focused on the road and body moving instinctively.
The side of Dazai’s mouth twitches and too late, Chuuya realizes he was /staring/.+
The side of Dazai’s mouth twitches and too late, Chuuya realizes he was /staring/.+
“Can I help you, or do you just like to look?”
His forearm, still covered in bandages, flexes as he takes a sharper turn, finally falling into the heavier city traffic. He’s even more focused now, squeezing the car into tight openings and roaring through the intersection on the+
His forearm, still covered in bandages, flexes as he takes a sharper turn, finally falling into the heavier city traffic. He’s even more focused now, squeezing the car into tight openings and roaring through the intersection on the+
tail end of yellow lights.
Yeah, Chuya thinks breathlessly as he watches Dazai’s thigh bunch with muscle when he steps on the brakes, he does like staring.
He doesn’t /say/ that though. “Where did you learn to drive like this?”
Because /confidence/ is one thing, but /skill/+
Yeah, Chuya thinks breathlessly as he watches Dazai’s thigh bunch with muscle when he steps on the brakes, he does like staring.
He doesn’t /say/ that though. “Where did you learn to drive like this?”
Because /confidence/ is one thing, but /skill/+
is another, and clearly, Dazai is much better than what’s needed to pass the driving test.
Chuuya’s dad is a decent driver, and he drives /nothing/ like this.
“That,” Dazai chuckles, giving him an amused look, “is a secret, doll.”
Instinctively, Chuuya sticks his tongue+
Chuuya’s dad is a decent driver, and he drives /nothing/ like this.
“That,” Dazai chuckles, giving him an amused look, “is a secret, doll.”
Instinctively, Chuuya sticks his tongue+
out at him, scowling a little.
It just makes Dazai laugh again, louder, and Chuuya’s heart feels way too big for his chest.
Eventually though, they approach the college. The traffic is slower here, so they spend longer at a standstill, but make their way steadily closer. +
It just makes Dazai laugh again, louder, and Chuuya’s heart feels way too big for his chest.
Eventually though, they approach the college. The traffic is slower here, so they spend longer at a standstill, but make their way steadily closer. +
Chuuya finds himself oddly hesitant to leave. Yes, he specifically asked to go home /now/ so he could get his feelings together before class tomorrow, but now that he’s looking at the campus—
He doesn’t want to go. He wants to tell Dazai to keep driving, to extend their time as+
He doesn’t want to go. He wants to tell Dazai to keep driving, to extend their time as+
long as possible, just a /little/ more please, I don’t want to go, please don’t leave, not yet—
When Dazai parks, it feels like the end.
The end of the ride, the end of the visit, maybe the end /entirely/—
He doesn’t know, but the idea of getting out makes him sad. +
When Dazai parks, it feels like the end.
The end of the ride, the end of the visit, maybe the end /entirely/—
He doesn’t know, but the idea of getting out makes him sad. +
A little lonely.
Sniffing softly, he gathers his stuff quickly, not wanting to prolong this feeling. Just get it over with, he says to himself.
“Thank you again,” he mumbles, opening the door when he sees it’s clear, “for everything.”
Why does it feel like /goodbye/?+
Sniffing softly, he gathers his stuff quickly, not wanting to prolong this feeling. Just get it over with, he says to himself.
“Thank you again,” he mumbles, opening the door when he sees it’s clear, “for everything.”
Why does it feel like /goodbye/?+
Fingertips brush his arm, gaining his attention. He looks.
Thé look on Dazai’s face is open, without the teasing and tension and wickedness from before. It’s like he’s trying to reassure Chuuya that there is no game to be played as he says, “it was nothing. See you later.” +
Thé look on Dazai’s face is open, without the teasing and tension and wickedness from before. It’s like he’s trying to reassure Chuuya that there is no game to be played as he says, “it was nothing. See you later.” +
That’s enough for Chuuya to smile back, small, before getting out.
Well, he said ‘see you later’ right? Not goodbye. So there will be a next time, right?
(Dazai sits there and watches Chuuya walk away until he can no longer see him. Then a little longer, just in case.)
—— +
Well, he said ‘see you later’ right? Not goodbye. So there will be a next time, right?
(Dazai sits there and watches Chuuya walk away until he can no longer see him. Then a little longer, just in case.)
—— +
Unfortunately, Dazai /does/ have a little work to do later that day. It’s mostly menial stuff, checking out a building that had been recently purchased by the Rats and stealing the manifests for incoming shipments to the mafia.
Child’s play.
The building /is/ interesting, +
Child’s play.
The building /is/ interesting, +
mostly in it’s placement near the docks and warehouse district, perfect for offloading and taking in incoming product. The Rats don’t have a lot of shipments coming through the Yokohama ports so the fact that they chose this location—
It’s weird, speaks of preemptive planning.+
It’s weird, speaks of preemptive planning.+
Not to mention that the building was purchased only a few days ago, and is already crawling with armed guards. Dazai can’t get close enough without tipping them off, so he makes a mental reminder to come back with his rifle and scope, so he can look in from afar.
Eventually, +
Eventually, +
he winds up at the shopping district, killing time and buying a few odds and ends while he waits for word from one of his informants when he sees—
A flower shop.
Dazai actually /likes/ flowers and plants, but he has an unfortunate black thumb and whatever he brings home +
A flower shop.
Dazai actually /likes/ flowers and plants, but he has an unfortunate black thumb and whatever he brings home +
usually does within a few weeks. Or is eaten by Kozo, but semantics.
He wanders in, taking a deep breath of the fresh, fragrant air inside. It’s clearly a family owned shop, a bit rundown but with love and hard work showing in every potted plant on the shelves and every bouquet+
He wanders in, taking a deep breath of the fresh, fragrant air inside. It’s clearly a family owned shop, a bit rundown but with love and hard work showing in every potted plant on the shelves and every bouquet+
lining the walls.
Walking the aisles slowly, he takes the time to brush her fingers gently over the leaves of the bigger plants, and even bends down to sniff some of the flowers.
It’s nice, peaceful, warm as only a greenhouse can be, and smells of growing, fragrant life.+
Walking the aisles slowly, he takes the time to brush her fingers gently over the leaves of the bigger plants, and even bends down to sniff some of the flowers.
It’s nice, peaceful, warm as only a greenhouse can be, and smells of growing, fragrant life.+
Now, Dazai wouldn’t say he was a very romantic guy. He’s done his fair share of wooing and seducing and what have you, but normally he just doesn’t /think/ about it. It takes someone special to put him in the mindset of romancing and gift giving.
Which is why it’s surprising—+
Which is why it’s surprising—+
and also /not/ surprising, given the events of the the last two weeks— that when his eyes turn to the bouquet section and fall upon a bouquet filled with orange and white roses, dotted with yellow sun stars—
His mind immediately flashes to Chuuya.
With a thoughtful him, he+
His mind immediately flashes to Chuuya.
With a thoughtful him, he+
traces the shape of one orange rose, this one barely beginning to bloom, it’s tiny petals still curled up and fragile.
He probably shouldn’t. Getting involved with Dazai is not as simple or safe as it sounds, and that’s the exact reason he’s avoided any kind of relationship for+
He probably shouldn’t. Getting involved with Dazai is not as simple or safe as it sounds, and that’s the exact reason he’s avoided any kind of relationship for+
this long. For a very long time, he didn’t actually /want/ any type of relationship.
(Up until now, he’s been using a BDSM club to sate his...other appetites. It’s worked out well for him for the most part, but he hasn’t been for a while.)
Maybe the desire has been kickstarted+
(Up until now, he’s been using a BDSM club to sate his...other appetites. It’s worked out well for him for the most part, but he hasn’t been for a while.)
Maybe the desire has been kickstarted+
by seeing his son parade around with his friends and... /conquests/— Dazai has /never/ seen him use the word boyfriend or girlfriend— but lately he’s been...
Wanting more.
And while he’d like to say that his interest in Chuuya is purely sexual, he can’t deny that the domestic+
Wanting more.
And while he’d like to say that his interest in Chuuya is purely sexual, he can’t deny that the domestic+
scene in the kitchen this morning, making pancakes and coffee for him, watching him eat them with a primal,providing satisfaction and then playing together with the dogs outside for a while, felt /so/ nice.
For a few hours,he didn’t have to be Dazai Osamu, former demon prodigy,+
For a few hours,he didn’t have to be Dazai Osamu, former demon prodigy,+
feared throughout the underground. For a few hours, he could just be /Dazai/.
And it was simple and easy, and god, he just wants to come home to something like that every day.
It’s not fair to Chuuya though, because he’s young and inexperienced, and he doesn’t deserve to be+
And it was simple and easy, and god, he just wants to come home to something like that every day.
It’s not fair to Chuuya though, because he’s young and inexperienced, and he doesn’t deserve to be+
dragged into a life like his just because Dazai /wants/ him.
(And he does want him, so much more than he should, and more than Dazai has wanted a lot of things in his life.)
So he shouldn’t. Actually, he should be shutting down their entire situation and making himself +
(And he does want him, so much more than he should, and more than Dazai has wanted a lot of things in his life.)
So he shouldn’t. Actually, he should be shutting down their entire situation and making himself +
completely unavailable but—
“Can I help you, sir?”
— he keeps getting sucked back in.
Dazai turns with a brillant smile, greeting the small shopkeeper. It’s an older woman, with greying hair and a soft, welcoming aura. “I was wondering; do you deliver?”
The shopkeeper nods+
“Can I help you, sir?”
— he keeps getting sucked back in.
Dazai turns with a brillant smile, greeting the small shopkeeper. It’s an older woman, with greying hair and a soft, welcoming aura. “I was wondering; do you deliver?”
The shopkeeper nods+
clasping her hands together. “With an extra fee, of course, and nothing farther than 15km.”
That’s fine, the college campus isn’t that far away anyways.
He plucks the bouquet off the shelf. All the thorns have already been shaved off. “I’ll take this one then.”
“Great! +
That’s fine, the college campus isn’t that far away anyways.
He plucks the bouquet off the shelf. All the thorns have already been shaved off. “I’ll take this one then.”
“Great! +
Would you like to take a look at vases as well, or just the bouquet itself?”
It’s probably a good assumption that Chuuya doesn’t have a vase in his dorm, and if Dazai is going to do this, then he might as well go all out, right? Presentation means everything.
For the vase, he+
It’s probably a good assumption that Chuuya doesn’t have a vase in his dorm, and if Dazai is going to do this, then he might as well go all out, right? Presentation means everything.
For the vase, he+
picks out something tall and light pink colored. It compliments the bright colors of the bouquet, and he’s noticed that Chuuya usually likes bright colors.
(Also he /did/ notice that he adored Yoko in her pink bandana, and he’s not above using her to get closer to him.)
The+
(Also he /did/ notice that he adored Yoko in her pink bandana, and he’s not above using her to get closer to him.)
The+
shopkeeper— a lady by the name of Chiyo— clips the stems of the bouquet before rubber banding a packet of plant food around the stems.
She dumps another packet into the water she puts into the vase, before carefully setting the flowers in. “Where would you like them delivered?”+
She dumps another packet into the water she puts into the vase, before carefully setting the flowers in. “Where would you like them delivered?”+
Dazai rattles off the address for Chuuya’s dorm— /yes/, he eventually broke and cracked the university network to get some information on him, he’s not /perfect/— then asks, “when will they be delivered?”
Chiyo checks the watch on her wrist as she enters in the address on her +
Chiyo checks the watch on her wrist as she enters in the address on her +
computer. “Our delivery boy arrives in one hour, so they should arrive within two hours.”
It’s a little earlier than he expected, but it works out for him. Chuuya has mentioned he wasn’t busy today, so hopefully he’ll be in his dorm to receive them.
She finishes charging him+
It’s a little earlier than he expected, but it works out for him. Chuuya has mentioned he wasn’t busy today, so hopefully he’ll be in his dorm to receive them.
She finishes charging him+
and entering in all the necessary information,before turning to him with the next problem: “would you like to include a note or a calling card?”
Dazai thinks it over. If he /did/ indicate that they were from him, it probably wouldn’t be received badly, it just—
Circles back to+
Dazai thinks it over. If he /did/ indicate that they were from him, it probably wouldn’t be received badly, it just—
Circles back to+
the whole ‘he’s too young and innocent to be involved with me’ argument.
At the end of the day, Chuuya /did/ have an upsetting day yesterday— even if Dazai still doesn’t know what happened to cause that— and hopefully, this will help to finish cheering him up.
Everyone likes+
At the end of the day, Chuuya /did/ have an upsetting day yesterday— even if Dazai still doesn’t know what happened to cause that— and hopefully, this will help to finish cheering him up.
Everyone likes+
getting flowers—
He fishes in his pocket, pulling out a completely black business card, one that doesn’t have any text on it at all. “Yeah, could you include this, please?”
— he just doesn’t have to know they’re from /him/.
————— +
He fishes in his pocket, pulling out a completely black business card, one that doesn’t have any text on it at all. “Yeah, could you include this, please?”
— he just doesn’t have to know they’re from /him/.
————— +
Thankfully, Nikolai is not in their dorm when he arrives home. Apparently, Sunday’s are one of his usual working days, so he’ll probably be gone for most of the day.
The sticky note he left on Chuuya’s pillow, labeled with a simple ‘ ;) ‘ makes Chuuya roll his eyes though.
At+
The sticky note he left on Chuuya’s pillow, labeled with a simple ‘ ;) ‘ makes Chuuya roll his eyes though.
At+
least he doesn’t have to explain why he’s wearing a different shirt than he left in and carrying his clothes in a bag, he thinks to himself.
He takes this moment to shuck off his dirty jeans and slip into brand new underwear and a pair of loose shorts.
The shirt he leaves on.+
He takes this moment to shuck off his dirty jeans and slip into brand new underwear and a pair of loose shorts.
The shirt he leaves on.+
For now.
He’ll take it off soon, he swears, it’s just /comfortable/. Like a warm, familiar blanket.
Sliding under the covers of his bed, because he’s getting sleepy from the sugar crash, Chuuya opens his phone so he can scroll his social medias.
Yuan has tagged him in a +
He’ll take it off soon, he swears, it’s just /comfortable/. Like a warm, familiar blanket.
Sliding under the covers of his bed, because he’s getting sleepy from the sugar crash, Chuuya opens his phone so he can scroll his social medias.
Yuan has tagged him in a +
few posts on twitter, and he takes the time to respond with the proper ‘like’ and incoherent keysmashing.
Kyouka posted a new dress design on her Instagram, so he likes and comments on that, of course.
From Shuuji.... nothing. No texts, no tags, nothing that indicates he was+
Kyouka posted a new dress design on her Instagram, so he likes and comments on that, of course.
From Shuuji.... nothing. No texts, no tags, nothing that indicates he was+
thinking of him at all.
Chuuya bites his lip, fighting off the pang of hurt. Maybe he’s still sleeping. It’s not even noon yet, and he has noticed from his Snapchat story that Shuuji likes to stay up /very/ late. It’s a miracle he gets up for class on time.
Speaking of...he+
Chuuya bites his lip, fighting off the pang of hurt. Maybe he’s still sleeping. It’s not even noon yet, and he has noticed from his Snapchat story that Shuuji likes to stay up /very/ late. It’s a miracle he gets up for class on time.
Speaking of...he+
opens his app, morbidly curious.
His story hasn’t been updated since last night, so that makes Chuuya feel a little better.
He’s probably just sleeping.
Opening their message threads, Chuuya debates on reaching out to him first. Maybe the argument wasn’t strictly his fault+
His story hasn’t been updated since last night, so that makes Chuuya feel a little better.
He’s probably just sleeping.
Opening their message threads, Chuuya debates on reaching out to him first. Maybe the argument wasn’t strictly his fault+
but there /are/ some things he feels he should apologize for. Properly, this time, not when he’s reeling from panic.
Besides, Shuuji seemed a lot angrier than Chuuya was—is—, so maybe it would smooth things over if he just bit the bullet and apologized to him.
He’s not sure+
Besides, Shuuji seemed a lot angrier than Chuuya was—is—, so maybe it would smooth things over if he just bit the bullet and apologized to him.
He’s not sure+
what to say though. Everything he thinks of seems more stupid and confusing than the last, and the more he thinks about it, the more his good mood starts to fade away.
Thinking about it makes anxiety and nerves curl in his stomach, hollowing out his chest, making him feel both+
Thinking about it makes anxiety and nerves curl in his stomach, hollowing out his chest, making him feel both+
too empty and too full, a confusing mix of sensations.
Eventually he decides to let it go for a while, shutting his phone off. Maybe he’ll think of a response if he gives himself a little more time to think.
This is a time he rejoices at the fact that they have a TV in their+
Eventually he decides to let it go for a while, shutting his phone off. Maybe he’ll think of a response if he gives himself a little more time to think.
This is a time he rejoices at the fact that they have a TV in their+
room because he turns it on and starts playing a movie he’d been meaning to see for a few weeks now.
It’s a comedy, mindlessly amusing and taking Chuuya’s mind off his anxiety for a while.
Most of the way through, a knock comes at the door, jolting him back into awareness.+
It’s a comedy, mindlessly amusing and taking Chuuya’s mind off his anxiety for a while.
Most of the way through, a knock comes at the door, jolting him back into awareness.+
He’s a little confused, considering he’s not expecting anyone and Nikolai wouldn’t knock.
Maybe it’s a surprise room inspection, he reasons, sliding out of bed to open the door.
When he opens it, the /first/ thing he sees are bursting blooms of orange and white flowers.+
Maybe it’s a surprise room inspection, he reasons, sliding out of bed to open the door.
When he opens it, the /first/ thing he sees are bursting blooms of orange and white flowers.+
The second thing he sees is a boy with black hair and white tips staring at him blankly over the flowers. He does not look happy to be here at all, and it’s such a startling contrast to the beautiful flowers that Chuuya snorts on instinct.
“Hi, can I help you—?”
“Are you +
“Hi, can I help you—?”
“Are you +
Nakahara Chuuya?” The boy cuts him off, voice blank and cutting. Like Chuuya is a particularly rude customer.
“Yeah?”
The flowers get shoved at him, so harshly that Chuuya is automatically catching the case, lest they fall.
“These are for you.”
What? He didn’t order any+
“Yeah?”
The flowers get shoved at him, so harshly that Chuuya is automatically catching the case, lest they fall.
“These are for you.”
What? He didn’t order any+
flowers, and there isn’t a reason someone /else/ would order him any.
“I didn’t order any flowers though?”
The boy— Atsushi, his name tag reads though the name doesn’t seem to fit him at all— shrugs. “Okay. They’re already paid for though, and this is the address and you’re +
“I didn’t order any flowers though?”
The boy— Atsushi, his name tag reads though the name doesn’t seem to fit him at all— shrugs. “Okay. They’re already paid for though, and this is the address and you’re +
the person they’re supposed to go to, so. They’re yours.”
He starts to back off then, retreating down the hallway.
Chuuya leans out after him. “Wait, Atsushi! Who paid for them?”
The boy looks over his shoulder at him, looking unreasonably grumpy. “I’m not Atsushi; my name+
He starts to back off then, retreating down the hallway.
Chuuya leans out after him. “Wait, Atsushi! Who paid for them?”
The boy looks over his shoulder at him, looking unreasonably grumpy. “I’m not Atsushi; my name+
is Akutagawa—“ okay, how the hell was a Chuuya supposed to know that, considering he’s wearing the /wrong/ nametag, “— and the order didn’t say. There’s a card.”
Then he’s gone, thin coat flapping behind him as he speed-walks out of the hallway before Chuuya can even say his+
Then he’s gone, thin coat flapping behind him as he speed-walks out of the hallway before Chuuya can even say his+
name or a thank you.
“Jeez, what’s his problem?” He mutters to himself, retreating back into his room. He makes sure to lock the door behind him.
Placing the flowers on the desk on his side of the room, he takes a second to admire them.
It’s a pretty young bouquet, with +
“Jeez, what’s his problem?” He mutters to himself, retreating back into his room. He makes sure to lock the door behind him.
Placing the flowers on the desk on his side of the room, he takes a second to admire them.
It’s a pretty young bouquet, with +
all the blooms either freshly opened or on their way there, delicate petals soft and easy to bruise under his fingers. It’s mostly roses—orange and white— but a few tiny, star-colored flowers stick up between them,stubborn even as they seem so fragile.
He has to Google those to+
He has to Google those to+
figure out what the are:
Sun Stars. Meaning purity and happiness, commonly used in /weddings/.
Also moderately poisonous, which seems like a weird thing to have in weddings and romantic bouquets, but it’s not like he had plans to start chewing on them, so he supposes it+
Sun Stars. Meaning purity and happiness, commonly used in /weddings/.
Also moderately poisonous, which seems like a weird thing to have in weddings and romantic bouquets, but it’s not like he had plans to start chewing on them, so he supposes it+
doesn’t matter.
There /is/ a card, wedged near the bottom of the bouquet in the stems. He pulls it out carefully, not wanting to bend the card or rip the flowers—
Turns out, that was completely unnecessary, because the card is completely blank. It’s a pitch black—which seems+
There /is/ a card, wedged near the bottom of the bouquet in the stems. He pulls it out carefully, not wanting to bend the card or rip the flowers—
Turns out, that was completely unnecessary, because the card is completely blank. It’s a pitch black—which seems+
strange— and there’s not a single piece of text or writing on it at /all/.
Who would send him a bouquet with no calling card? It seems a little /ominous/, actually, like someone he doesn’t know knows where he lives.
It’s almost anxiety inducing— even as beautiful as the +
Who would send him a bouquet with no calling card? It seems a little /ominous/, actually, like someone he doesn’t know knows where he lives.
It’s almost anxiety inducing— even as beautiful as the +
flowers are and how nice they smell— because he really doesn’t know /why/ he would receive something like this for no reason, but then:
/Ding!/
An incoming text.
With the card still clutched in his hand, Chuuya grabs for his phone, opening it one-handed.
[ SHUUJI ] : yo
+
/Ding!/
An incoming text.
With the card still clutched in his hand, Chuuya grabs for his phone, opening it one-handed.
[ SHUUJI ] : yo
+
That can’t be a coincidence, right? For the flowers to arrive and Shuuji to text him soon after? Especially after being silent all morning?
It /would/ make sense, considering their argument yesterday, but Chuuya wouldn’t have expected /this/.
It’s sweet though, straight out of+
It /would/ make sense, considering their argument yesterday, but Chuuya wouldn’t have expected /this/.
It’s sweet though, straight out of+
a romance movie, and the thought that Shuuji sent him flowers because he was mad at him—
Makes him feel giddy and light, enough that instead of texting back, he just presses the call button.
The phone rings twice before Shuuji picks up, answering with a raspy, “hello?”
+
Makes him feel giddy and light, enough that instead of texting back, he just presses the call button.
The phone rings twice before Shuuji picks up, answering with a raspy, “hello?”
+
The sound of his voice, thick with sleep, makes Chuuya smile as he gently teases open one of the more stubborn buds. “Did you send me flowers?”
(On the phone, Chuuya can’t tell, but Shuuji is thinking frantically on the other side.) “Did you get some?”
“Yeah, I got them,”+
(On the phone, Chuuya can’t tell, but Shuuji is thinking frantically on the other side.) “Did you get some?”
“Yeah, I got them,”+
Chuuya sighs pleasantly, “they’re beautiful.”
There’s a rustle on the other side of the line, sounds of Shuuji shifting around. “I’m glad you like them, then.”
It’s not a /direct/ claim, but it’s a close enough confirmation that Chuuya’s chest feels full with something warm+
There’s a rustle on the other side of the line, sounds of Shuuji shifting around. “I’m glad you like them, then.”
It’s not a /direct/ claim, but it’s a close enough confirmation that Chuuya’s chest feels full with something warm+
and happy.
And because this must be an apology for the argument last night—
The next thing he says is his /own/ apology. “I’m sorry for freaking out on you last night. I really should’ve told you that I don’t like to be pinned, and it wasn’t fair of me to make you feel like+
And because this must be an apology for the argument last night—
The next thing he says is his /own/ apology. “I’m sorry for freaking out on you last night. I really should’ve told you that I don’t like to be pinned, and it wasn’t fair of me to make you feel like+
you were a bad person or something.”
(Chuuya has never actually had a problem with being pinned before. It happens semi-often in Judo, and while being half-crushed beneath his larger teammates is never /comfortable/, it doesn’t make him want to /cry/.)
Shuuji sighs. “I just+
(Chuuya has never actually had a problem with being pinned before. It happens semi-often in Judo, and while being half-crushed beneath his larger teammates is never /comfortable/, it doesn’t make him want to /cry/.)
Shuuji sighs. “I just+
wish you had /told/ me, instead of just expecting me to know.I can’t read your mind Chuuya,and I don’t know why you didn’t just speak up earlier. I’ve never hurt you, right?”
No, he hasn’t. He’s made him him uncomfortable sometimes, and pressures him, but he’s never /hurt/ him.+
No, he hasn’t. He’s made him him uncomfortable sometimes, and pressures him, but he’s never /hurt/ him.+
"No," he mutters, feeling overdramatic.
"Then why didn't you /say/ anything?"
Chuuya shifts in place, and that warm feeling in his chest is rapidly souring into something sticky and suffocating. He doesn't feel good anymore, and he doesn't want to continue this conversation, +
"Then why didn't you /say/ anything?"
Chuuya shifts in place, and that warm feeling in his chest is rapidly souring into something sticky and suffocating. He doesn't feel good anymore, and he doesn't want to continue this conversation, +
but avoiding it would just mean he hasn't learned his lesson. "You... make me feel like saying no is wrong, sometimes."
The silence is /heavy/, filling Chuuya's head with the faint, distant sound of ringing.
"I /always/ listen to you when you say no, so I don't understand why+
The silence is /heavy/, filling Chuuya's head with the faint, distant sound of ringing.
"I /always/ listen to you when you say no, so I don't understand why+
you would feel like that."
Chuuya doesn't know /either/. All he knows is that he just wants this conversation to be over. He wants to enjoy the flowers-- the first flowers he's ever gotten from a boy-- and he wants everything to be okay again.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, and he+
Chuuya doesn't know /either/. All he knows is that he just wants this conversation to be over. He wants to enjoy the flowers-- the first flowers he's ever gotten from a boy-- and he wants everything to be okay again.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, and he+
must sound really pitiful,because Shuuji is making a soft, comforting sound on the other side.
"I forgive you, darling. I just don't like feeling like you think I'm going to.... assault you or something. But it's okay, because I know you feel bad for it, and we can move on now,+
"I forgive you, darling. I just don't like feeling like you think I'm going to.... assault you or something. But it's okay, because I know you feel bad for it, and we can move on now,+
right? We don't have to keep fighting about it, right?"
Yeah... yeah, that sounds good. Then it can be over, for real.
He nods, climbing back into his bed. "Yeah, let's move on. Thank you."
Curling up with his knees tucked up against his chest, he pulls his blanket over him +
Yeah... yeah, that sounds good. Then it can be over, for real.
He nods, climbing back into his bed. "Yeah, let's move on. Thank you."
Curling up with his knees tucked up against his chest, he pulls his blanket over him +
completely, blocking out the room entirely. He suddenly feels so tired, exhaustion weighing heavy on his limbs and chest.
"You're welcome, darling. I have to go now, because I have to finish my homework, but we'll talk soon, okay?"
Chuuya makes an assenting noise, smiling just+
"You're welcome, darling. I have to go now, because I have to finish my homework, but we'll talk soon, okay?"
Chuuya makes an assenting noise, smiling just+
a little. "Okay."
They say their goodbyes before hanging up.
Chuuya stares at his phone for a moment, wondering why he feels so wrung out and dried up after just a 10 minute phonecall.
It doesn't seem right.
After a while of hiding under his blankets and soaking up the +
They say their goodbyes before hanging up.
Chuuya stares at his phone for a moment, wondering why he feels so wrung out and dried up after just a 10 minute phonecall.
It doesn't seem right.
After a while of hiding under his blankets and soaking up the +
warmth and comfort, he wanders out to take pictures of the flowers. It takes a little maneuvering to find the perfect spot for lighting, but he eventually manages to take a really good picture.
He posts it to his Instagram, with the only caption being '🖤🖤 ' -- because he +
He posts it to his Instagram, with the only caption being '🖤🖤 ' -- because he +
doesn't want to explain why he got flowers to his sisters.
Shuuji likes it near instantly, which makes him smile.
(Across the city, Dazai leans up against a wall, smiling gently when he sees Chuuya's new post -- okay, /fine/, he's a little bit obsessed, but he's not going to +
Shuuji likes it near instantly, which makes him smile.
(Across the city, Dazai leans up against a wall, smiling gently when he sees Chuuya's new post -- okay, /fine/, he's a little bit obsessed, but he's not going to +
/do/ anything with this information, and the selfie Chuuya posted a few weeks ago with his blue eyes lit by the sun and his hair a fiery mess behind him is too beautiful /not/ to look at.
Job well done, he praises himself, then shuts off his phone.
Back to work.)
---- +
Job well done, he praises himself, then shuts off his phone.
Back to work.)
---- +
Somehow, the second week of school is even harder than the first. Confident that their students can handle the workload, all the professors pile on the homework without remorse.
Chuuya ends up spending almost all of the time he's not in class in the library, frantically trying +
Chuuya ends up spending almost all of the time he's not in class in the library, frantically trying +
to keep up with the workload. He barely even feels like he's learning, he just feels like he's memorizing information for his upcoming quizzes and then forgetting the information just as quickly.
How Nikolai still seems so perky /and/ manages to keep up with his classes when he+
How Nikolai still seems so perky /and/ manages to keep up with his classes when he+
works a decent amount and is only taking 1 class less than Chuuya, he will never know. He feels like he's wrung out and his head aches by the time the library closes every night. He barely even has enough energy to eat dinner in the cafeteria before passing out in his bed.
He+
He+
spends a decent amount of time building a Snapchat streak with Yuan between tackling calculus problems in study sessions.
Shuuji he sees less, and it’s a bit tense and awkward at first, but after the first meet up for coffee goes pretty well, things start to settle back into+
Shuuji he sees less, and it’s a bit tense and awkward at first, but after the first meet up for coffee goes pretty well, things start to settle back into+
their usual rhythm.
He /does/ notice that Shuuji doesn’t pin him up against walls nearly as often, and most of the time when he does, it seems more of an accident than on purpose. He’s taken to grabbing Chuuya by his chin, which is less restraining and more comfortable than +
He /does/ notice that Shuuji doesn’t pin him up against walls nearly as often, and most of the time when he does, it seems more of an accident than on purpose. He’s taken to grabbing Chuuya by his chin, which is less restraining and more comfortable than +
bodily being pinned.
However, it /is/ a little annoying because now Chuuya has small bruises on his face from how hard Shuuji is gripping him, and he’s getting tired of using up all his foundation to cover up the dark spots so no one asks any weird questions.
Chuuya spends the+
However, it /is/ a little annoying because now Chuuya has small bruises on his face from how hard Shuuji is gripping him, and he’s getting tired of using up all his foundation to cover up the dark spots so no one asks any weird questions.
Chuuya spends the+
entire week trying not to think about Dazai. His shirt gets stuffed underneath his pillow— so he doesn’t have to explain to Nikolai where it came from— and more often than not, his dreams usually feature some aspects of deep, bottomless caramel eyes, gentle hands big enough to+
cradle his entire skull, a wicked playful grin that invites him in and dares him to go further.
His unconscious brain is a lost cause, but he deliberately does /not/ think about him during his waking hours. Not once, not at all.
(Maybe a whole fucking lot, which he does feel+
His unconscious brain is a lost cause, but he deliberately does /not/ think about him during his waking hours. Not once, not at all.
(Maybe a whole fucking lot, which he does feel+
incredibly guilty for, because things with Shuuji feel like they're /finally/ going in a good direction. They're getting along, Chuuya is liking the kissing more.
The word 'boyfriend' doesn't once come out Shuuji's mouth, but Chuuya feels like they're getting there, slowly but +
The word 'boyfriend' doesn't once come out Shuuji's mouth, but Chuuya feels like they're getting there, slowly but +
surely.
Maybe if Shuuji doesn't ask him to be his boyfriend first, he'll take the leap of faith and ask /him/?)
Shuuji suggests another dinner at his house the following weekend, but Chuuya ends up having to re-do most of one his assignments for his physics class, so he ends+
Maybe if Shuuji doesn't ask him to be his boyfriend first, he'll take the leap of faith and ask /him/?)
Shuuji suggests another dinner at his house the following weekend, but Chuuya ends up having to re-do most of one his assignments for his physics class, so he ends+
up having to beg off so he can catch up on his work.
(And it does feel a little like begging, because Shuuji is pretty grumpy and upset about it. Chuuya's apology ends up with him squashed against the door of his car, trying desperately to keep up with the kiss Shuuji is giving+
(And it does feel a little like begging, because Shuuji is pretty grumpy and upset about it. Chuuya's apology ends up with him squashed against the door of his car, trying desperately to keep up with the kiss Shuuji is giving+
him.)
The /next/ weekend though.... he's free, and Shuuji is even /more/ eager to have him over.
Chuuya agrees, naturally, because he wants to spend time with him, and it's always a treat to see Yoko-- he's been going over every single picture of her he has and honestly has +
The /next/ weekend though.... he's free, and Shuuji is even /more/ eager to have him over.
Chuuya agrees, naturally, because he wants to spend time with him, and it's always a treat to see Yoko-- he's been going over every single picture of her he has and honestly has +
considering asking for Dazai's number /just/ so he can get more pictures because Shuuji refuses to take any for him-- but he's starting to wonder.
Don't people who are dating go out on /actual/ dates? Go out to dinner, or the movies, or the mall? Go out in public together and +
Don't people who are dating go out on /actual/ dates? Go out to dinner, or the movies, or the mall? Go out in public together and +
have fun?
Shuuji's house is like a hotel in itself, but Chuuya would /love/ to go out to a restaurant to eat, and not just bring takeout to eat on the couch.
But he agrees, and Shuuji picks him up earlier on Sunday afternoon, since Chuuya worked his ass off to finish all his +
Shuuji's house is like a hotel in itself, but Chuuya would /love/ to go out to a restaurant to eat, and not just bring takeout to eat on the couch.
But he agrees, and Shuuji picks him up earlier on Sunday afternoon, since Chuuya worked his ass off to finish all his +
work the day before. His mind still feels a little melty from the information overload, but relaxing with Shuuji will probably fix that.
Yoko greets him at the door, prancing in place with her tail waving. He stops to say hello, letting Kozo sniff him up and down as Yoko flops+
Yoko greets him at the door, prancing in place with her tail waving. He stops to say hello, letting Kozo sniff him up and down as Yoko flops+
over onto her bag to beg for belly scratches.
Shuuji,of course, edges out of the doorway carefully, which Chuuya /shouldn't/ think is funny,but the fact that he's so terrified of a dog who is currently upside down with her face in a stupid and adorable doggy grin--
It's funny.+
Shuuji,of course, edges out of the doorway carefully, which Chuuya /shouldn't/ think is funny,but the fact that he's so terrified of a dog who is currently upside down with her face in a stupid and adorable doggy grin--
It's funny.+
He also can't help but look around, because if the dogs are out--
That means Dazai is home, right? Shuuji usually locks them up when he's alone so...
"Is your dad home?" he asks, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. His heartrate has picked up just from the /idea/+
That means Dazai is home, right? Shuuji usually locks them up when he's alone so...
"Is your dad home?" he asks, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. His heartrate has picked up just from the /idea/+
of seeing him again,and the remnants of what he felt the /last/ time they were together begins to pool in his stomach.
Shuuji shrugs, kicking off his shoes. "Yeah, but he's busy with some business deal or something. He's been locked in his office all day on a call with someone.+
Shuuji shrugs, kicking off his shoes. "Yeah, but he's busy with some business deal or something. He's been locked in his office all day on a call with someone.+
He told me to order dinner, so I'm guessing he'll be busy most of the day."
Damn. That does /not/ send a pang of disappoint through Chuuya.
This time, instead of going into the living room, Shuuji leads the way up the stairs, heading for his room.
Yoko and Kozo mind their +
Damn. That does /not/ send a pang of disappoint through Chuuya.
This time, instead of going into the living room, Shuuji leads the way up the stairs, heading for his room.
Yoko and Kozo mind their +
manners on the stairs, as always, but they do give Chuuya twin pitiful looks of betrayal when Shuuji ushers him into his room and promptly shuts the door after them,locking them out.
For the first time, Chuuya is shut in Shuuji's room with him, completely alone.
The air feels+
For the first time, Chuuya is shut in Shuuji's room with him, completely alone.
The air feels+
thick, soupy with the sudden realization.
Nothing happens immediately though. Shuuji turns on his computer, sitting at his desk. He fiddles with some wires, connecting his computer to the TV hanging above it.
There's no where else to sit, so Chuuya sits on the bed, pulling his+
Nothing happens immediately though. Shuuji turns on his computer, sitting at his desk. He fiddles with some wires, connecting his computer to the TV hanging above it.
There's no where else to sit, so Chuuya sits on the bed, pulling his+
legs up with him.
He watches with faint interest as Shuuji starts up some game on his computer, which gets translated onto the bigger TV screen. He exits out of the loading screen too quickly for Chuuya to catch the name, but it seems like some first-person shooter game.
Then+
He watches with faint interest as Shuuji starts up some game on his computer, which gets translated onto the bigger TV screen. He exits out of the loading screen too quickly for Chuuya to catch the name, but it seems like some first-person shooter game.
Then+
he's flinching backwards, startled, as Shuuji throws himself on the bed next to Chuuya with a controller in hand.
He pats the space next to him, and Chuuya hesitantly scoots back, because he's not really sure what's going on.
Is he going to just sit here and watch him play+
He pats the space next to him, and Chuuya hesitantly scoots back, because he's not really sure what's going on.
Is he going to just sit here and watch him play+
his game? He's not entirely opposed to it-- he watches game playthroughs on Youtube just like everyone else-- but it's /not/ his idea of a 'date'. It seems boring, and doesn't include him.
Shuuji pulls him against his shoulder, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and grabbing+
Shuuji pulls him against his shoulder, wrapping his arm around his shoulders and grabbing+
the controller in front of him.
"This is one of my favorite games," he says, smashing a few buttons on his controller to start the game.
Chuuya's right; it is boring. Mostly because he doesn't really understand what's going on in the game and Shuuji dies too often for him to+
"This is one of my favorite games," he says, smashing a few buttons on his controller to start the game.
Chuuya's right; it is boring. Mostly because he doesn't really understand what's going on in the game and Shuuji dies too often for him to+
really figure it out. He also curses a /lot/ and his yelling next to Chuuya's ear makes him grimace.
"Wanna play?" Shuuji asks,and then promptly places the controller in his hands without waiting for a response.
He gives him a brief tutorial, which doesn't explain much as all,+
"Wanna play?" Shuuji asks,and then promptly places the controller in his hands without waiting for a response.
He gives him a brief tutorial, which doesn't explain much as all,+
but it's enough to get him started. The rest of the people in the game don't give him an ounce of mercy, targeting him because he's easy to kill.
Shuuji's huff of amusement whenever Chuuya dies ignites the competitive streak in him, and the game is /on/. If he wants to hold his+
Shuuji's huff of amusement whenever Chuuya dies ignites the competitive streak in him, and the game is /on/. If he wants to hold his+
shitty kill streaks over Chuuya's head when he's never played this game before, and not many games at all--
Then he's going to make him /work/ for it.
He survives the next round longer, and manages to take down three people before he gets sniped from behind.
The round after,+
Then he's going to make him /work/ for it.
He survives the next round longer, and manages to take down three people before he gets sniped from behind.
The round after,+
he's one of the last four people left alive.
Shuuji doesn't seem so /smug/ now, Chuuya thinks to himself, pressing the button to start the next round.
This one he /wins/, and he turns to Shuuji with a self-satisfied 'what now?' smile, waiting to hear that little amused huff +
Shuuji doesn't seem so /smug/ now, Chuuya thinks to himself, pressing the button to start the next round.
This one he /wins/, and he turns to Shuuji with a self-satisfied 'what now?' smile, waiting to hear that little amused huff +
again.
Shuuji scowls at him lightly, nose wrinkled with something that looks like distaste. "Beginners luck," he scoffs, pulling the controller out of his hands and tossing it to the edge of the bed.
Chuuya opens his mouth to fire back something about /skill/, when Shuuji is +
Shuuji scowls at him lightly, nose wrinkled with something that looks like distaste. "Beginners luck," he scoffs, pulling the controller out of his hands and tossing it to the edge of the bed.
Chuuya opens his mouth to fire back something about /skill/, when Shuuji is +
reeling him in with a hand on his cheek, pulling him into a kiss.
It's a bit sudden, but nothing /bad/, considering that they're both still sitting upright. Truthfully, it's more entertaining than watching Shuuji die repeatedly on TV-- and the game was boring, so he's already+
It's a bit sudden, but nothing /bad/, considering that they're both still sitting upright. Truthfully, it's more entertaining than watching Shuuji die repeatedly on TV-- and the game was boring, so he's already+
over playing it-- so he lets himself lean into it, resting his weight over Shuuji.
Shuuji bends underneath it, falling backwards to lay down and dragging Chuuya with him.
He makes a startled noise, hands flying out to catch up as he somehow ends up half-laying on Shuuji, one+
Shuuji bends underneath it, falling backwards to lay down and dragging Chuuya with him.
He makes a startled noise, hands flying out to catch up as he somehow ends up half-laying on Shuuji, one+
thigh wedged between Shuuji's and--
That's when it feels it.
Logically, he /knew/ that they would progress to this someday, and it's not like Chuuya hasn't fantasized about a hard dick pressed up against him (in Dazai's case, he's imagined it a /lot/) but this somehow feels+
That's when it feels it.
Logically, he /knew/ that they would progress to this someday, and it's not like Chuuya hasn't fantasized about a hard dick pressed up against him (in Dazai's case, he's imagined it a /lot/) but this somehow feels+
underwhelming and strange in equal parts, because they've only been kissing for a /minute/ max, and Chuuya is barely even feeling warm.
A tongue pushes roughly into his mouth, mapping the points of his teeth as one of Shuuji's hands slides into his hair, holding him in place.+
A tongue pushes roughly into his mouth, mapping the points of his teeth as one of Shuuji's hands slides into his hair, holding him in place.+
His other hand finds his hip, pushing him down hard as he grinds up and--
Oh. Well. Alright.
He's not nearly as into it as Shuuji is, based on the way he's panting into his mouth, and it doesn't feel /great/ because he's not even warmed up, but it's not--
It's not /terrible/.+
Oh. Well. Alright.
He's not nearly as into it as Shuuji is, based on the way he's panting into his mouth, and it doesn't feel /great/ because he's not even warmed up, but it's not--
It's not /terrible/.+
It could be good, even, once he gets a little more into it.
He kisses back, focusing on their mouths as Shuuji ruts against him, trying to lose himself into the feeling of friction and movement.
Finally, when the kissing has devolved into something messy and sloppy, Chuuya +
He kisses back, focusing on their mouths as Shuuji ruts against him, trying to lose himself into the feeling of friction and movement.
Finally, when the kissing has devolved into something messy and sloppy, Chuuya +
/finally/ starts to feel a grain of heat curling through him, his dick finally starting to twitch in his pants and god, he was really worried that he wasn't going to respond at /all/, but its okay now, he's getting into it--
Naturally, that's when it's all over.
Shuuji sinks+
Naturally, that's when it's all over.
Shuuji sinks+
his teeth /hard/ into his lip, and Chuuya is letting out a pained noise, hips jerking as he instinctively fights to free himself--
And Shuuji is letting out a loud, high-pitched noise against him, shuddering underneath him in short, intense waves.
Is he--
Chuuya feels a burst+
And Shuuji is letting out a loud, high-pitched noise against him, shuddering underneath him in short, intense waves.
Is he--
Chuuya feels a burst+
of warmth against his crotch, growing damper the longer he's pressed against it.
Oh god, he /did/.
Chuuya is /barely/ even half-hard, and Shuuji just came in his pants, just from a little making out and half-hearted making out.
That's so /embarrassing/.
Shuuji doesn't seem+
Oh god, he /did/.
Chuuya is /barely/ even half-hard, and Shuuji just came in his pants, just from a little making out and half-hearted making out.
That's so /embarrassing/.
Shuuji doesn't seem+
to think so, because he's smiling dazedly up at him.
It's a good thing that Chuuya was just getting into it, because this is like a glass of cold water over his head.
He rolls over onto his back,wiping his hands down his face. Wow. That was...
Something. That was /something/.+
It's a good thing that Chuuya was just getting into it, because this is like a glass of cold water over his head.
He rolls over onto his back,wiping his hands down his face. Wow. That was...
Something. That was /something/.+
He felt more sexual tension when Dazai was handing him a glass of /wine/, and he honestly can't tell if that's because he's got some weird obsession with the man, or if he's /actually/ meant to be orgasming with 10 minutes of messy grinding.
Ugh.
He sits up, swinging his legs+
Ugh.
He sits up, swinging his legs+
over the edge of the bed. "I'm gonna go clean up," he mutters, standing up.
Not that he needs to. He wasn't hard enough to even start leaking, and his pants don't have anything on them from Shuuji, but he feels like he just needs to..
Stare at himself in the mirror and think+
Not that he needs to. He wasn't hard enough to even start leaking, and his pants don't have anything on them from Shuuji, but he feels like he just needs to..
Stare at himself in the mirror and think+
for a moment. Contemplate.
Shuuji doesn't stop him, and Chuuya has the /decency/ to open the door as little as possible to keep Shuuji from being seen as he slips out.
Yoko is waiting outside for him, head on her paws and eyes locked loyally on the door, waiting for a hint of +
Shuuji doesn't stop him, and Chuuya has the /decency/ to open the door as little as possible to keep Shuuji from being seen as he slips out.
Yoko is waiting outside for him, head on her paws and eyes locked loyally on the door, waiting for a hint of +
movement. When she sees him come out, she's immediately perking up, tail thumping against the wall.
The wall of Dazai's /office/, so he draws her away quietly, not wanting to disturb what is apparently a very long and important business call.
Out of curiosity, he pauses +
The wall of Dazai's /office/, so he draws her away quietly, not wanting to disturb what is apparently a very long and important business call.
Out of curiosity, he pauses +
outside the door, leaning his head in to see if he can hear anything--
If he listens very, /very/ hard, he can hear the harsh, slurred noises of a /different/ foreign language. How many languages does that man speak?
It /is/ kind of hot though, and his mind immediately flashes+
If he listens very, /very/ hard, he can hear the harsh, slurred noises of a /different/ foreign language. How many languages does that man speak?
It /is/ kind of hot though, and his mind immediately flashes+
to a scene like in the kitchen yesterday, which him smirking and shirt unbuttoned, except /this/ time, he's speaking in some other language, voice low and raspy as he murmurs to Chuuya.
Heat, much more potent and urgent than anything he has feeling in Shuuji's room, flashes +
Heat, much more potent and urgent than anything he has feeling in Shuuji's room, flashes +
through him, like a bolt of lightning.
/Why/?Why can't he feel like this for /Shuuji/? He'd probably come in ten minutes too if he felt like /this/ around him!
He heads downstairs to the spare bathroom, distantly mourning the fact that he doesn't get to use Dazai's /gorgeous/+
/Why/?Why can't he feel like this for /Shuuji/? He'd probably come in ten minutes too if he felt like /this/ around him!
He heads downstairs to the spare bathroom, distantly mourning the fact that he doesn't get to use Dazai's /gorgeous/+
bathroom again. The downstairs one is nice, but nothing compared to the masterpiece that is Dazai's bathroom.
He even lets Yoko come in with him as he enters, locking the door behind him. She watches him intently as he turns the faucet on and cups water in his palms, rinsing +
He even lets Yoko come in with him as he enters, locking the door behind him. She watches him intently as he turns the faucet on and cups water in his palms, rinsing +
off his face.
After a few splashes, he braces his hands on the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair, which was nicely curled before, is now a bit of a mess. He wasn't wearing makeup today, so he doesn't have to worry about smears over his face.
But..
With a sigh,+
After a few splashes, he braces his hands on the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. His hair, which was nicely curled before, is now a bit of a mess. He wasn't wearing makeup today, so he doesn't have to worry about smears over his face.
But..
With a sigh,+
he looks down his body, at the distinct lack of tent in his pants. He doesn't even feel any tension, just a complete lack of interest.
Why is this so hard for him? Isn't he supposed to be falling all over himself to get even a taste of sexual relief with Shuuji?
Instead, all+
Why is this so hard for him? Isn't he supposed to be falling all over himself to get even a taste of sexual relief with Shuuji?
Instead, all+
his dick seems to be interested in is his /dad/, who, mind you, hasn't done anything to him beyond /grabbing his ankle/.
God, he's such a mess.
"What's wrong with me, Yoko?" he mutters.
The dog in question merely wags her tail, head tilting as if to say 'a lot of things. What+
God, he's such a mess.
"What's wrong with me, Yoko?" he mutters.
The dog in question merely wags her tail, head tilting as if to say 'a lot of things. What+
would you like to talk about first?'.
After that, he can't keep stalling, so he heads back upstairs, half-dreading and half-curious as to what image he's going to be greeted with when he re-enters Shuuji's room.
Turns out, it's just Shuuji in a different pair of pants--Chuuya +
After that, he can't keep stalling, so he heads back upstairs, half-dreading and half-curious as to what image he's going to be greeted with when he re-enters Shuuji's room.
Turns out, it's just Shuuji in a different pair of pants--Chuuya +
tries not to notice the dirty pants very obviously in the hamper, but he swears to god that wet spot is staring at him-- and stretched out across his bed, lazily cruising through the TV channels as he searches for something to watch.
When he notices Chuuya, he gestures with his+
When he notices Chuuya, he gestures with his+
arm, beckoning him over.
Yoko whines when he shuts her out again, but Shuuji has been very clear that the dogs are not allowed in his room.
Chuuya slides onto the bed, yelping when Shuuji grabs him by the arm and reels him in.He ends up squished against Shuuji's side, his head+
Yoko whines when he shuts her out again, but Shuuji has been very clear that the dogs are not allowed in his room.
Chuuya slides onto the bed, yelping when Shuuji grabs him by the arm and reels him in.He ends up squished against Shuuji's side, his head+
forcibly pulled down to rest on his shoulder.
Then, without an /ounce/ of shame: "Was it good for you?"
Honestly, he's glad Shuuji can't see his face from this angle, because he can't help the disbelieving expression he gets, staring at the wall like he's in agony. How does he+
Then, without an /ounce/ of shame: "Was it good for you?"
Honestly, he's glad Shuuji can't see his face from this angle, because he can't help the disbelieving expression he gets, staring at the wall like he's in agony. How does he+
even respond to that?
"Yeah. It was..." he trails off, trying to think of an adjective that isn't underwhelming or awkward and /weird/. "...nice," he settles on lamely, hoping Shuuji doesn't question it.
He doesn't, because he's too busy starting the movie and looking pleased+
"Yeah. It was..." he trails off, trying to think of an adjective that isn't underwhelming or awkward and /weird/. "...nice," he settles on lamely, hoping Shuuji doesn't question it.
He doesn't, because he's too busy starting the movie and looking pleased+
with himself.
The man doesn't even make it twenty minutes before he's asleep, snoring away loudly in Chuuya's hair. Talk about underwhelming.
Eventually, he can't stand whatever stupid movie Shuuji put on. He wiggles out of his grip slowly, freezing when his snores skip a beat+
The man doesn't even make it twenty minutes before he's asleep, snoring away loudly in Chuuya's hair. Talk about underwhelming.
Eventually, he can't stand whatever stupid movie Shuuji put on. He wiggles out of his grip slowly, freezing when his snores skip a beat+
before settling back into their rhythm. He turns over in his sleep, facing the other direction.
Letting out a breath of relief, Chuuya slips out of the room again.
This time, Yoko isn't waiting for him in the hallway, which is so strange that he stands there for a moment, +
Letting out a breath of relief, Chuuya slips out of the room again.
This time, Yoko isn't waiting for him in the hallway, which is so strange that he stands there for a moment, +
wondering where the hell she is. She /always/ waits for him, and even though she isn't /his/ dog, he's come to expect and anticipate a giant furry body getting underneath his feet at all times of the day.
Dazai's office door is still closed when he passes, but when he leans in +
Dazai's office door is still closed when he passes, but when he leans in +
to listen again--
Silence.
Slowly, he makes his way downstairs, feeling on edge. He keeps waiting for the dogs to come bursting out to greet him, or appear at the bottom of the stairs--
But they don't. They're not in the living room either, and Chuuya actually takes a detour+
Silence.
Slowly, he makes his way downstairs, feeling on edge. He keeps waiting for the dogs to come bursting out to greet him, or appear at the bottom of the stairs--
But they don't. They're not in the living room either, and Chuuya actually takes a detour+
to the kennel room to see if they're in there--
Nope. Both the kennels are empty.
The garage door is locked when he tries it, and when he wanders out to the kitchen, no one is in there.
Honestly, it just looks like they disappeared--
But then he hears a heavy /thump/ coming+
Nope. Both the kennels are empty.
The garage door is locked when he tries it, and when he wanders out to the kitchen, no one is in there.
Honestly, it just looks like they disappeared--
But then he hears a heavy /thump/ coming+
from the backyard, and the curtains over the door aren't the way they were before--
Drawn like a moth to a flame, Chuuya approaches, holding his breath as the anticipation builds, wondering what he's going to see out there--
When he peeks through the door, the first thing he +
Drawn like a moth to a flame, Chuuya approaches, holding his breath as the anticipation builds, wondering what he's going to see out there--
When he peeks through the door, the first thing he +
sees is /Dazai/.
Standing tall in the middle of the yard, shirt sleeves once again rolled up to reveal his forearms. He's cocking his arm back, shoulder rippling as he winds up and /chucks/ a ball with an impressive amount of force to the other side of the yard.
The dogs go+
Standing tall in the middle of the yard, shirt sleeves once again rolled up to reveal his forearms. He's cocking his arm back, shoulder rippling as he winds up and /chucks/ a ball with an impressive amount of force to the other side of the yard.
The dogs go+
streaking past as they chase after, coming back a moment later. Yoko has the ball in her mouth while Kozo is nipping at her legs and mouth, trying to steal it from her.
She hands off the ball to Dazai, hopping excitedly at his feet as he winds up again.
He throws the ball,+
She hands off the ball to Dazai, hopping excitedly at his feet as he winds up again.
He throws the ball,+
with so much force that Chuuya can /see/ it.
A heartbeat later the /thump!/ comes again, and he realizes: Dazai is throwing the ball so /hard/ that it’s rattling the back fence when it hits.
Dear /god/. How much power does that man /have/?
Mesmerized, he steps outside, +
A heartbeat later the /thump!/ comes again, and he realizes: Dazai is throwing the ball so /hard/ that it’s rattling the back fence when it hits.
Dear /god/. How much power does that man /have/?
Mesmerized, he steps outside, +
drawn in by the force he exudes, the power radiating off him effortlessly.
Another throw, the rattle of the fence again. The dogs racing past, the heavy pant of their breaths.
A snarl from Dazai as he says something again in another language, speaking into the Bluetooth+
Another throw, the rattle of the fence again. The dogs racing past, the heavy pant of their breaths.
A snarl from Dazai as he says something again in another language, speaking into the Bluetooth+
hidden in his ear.
A pause as the person responds on the other line, then Dazai’s face twists with rage and disbelief, teeth flashing, and his /anger/ shouldn’t be so hot, it shouldn’t make Chuuya want to bend over or give into him—
He takes another stumbling step, feet +
A pause as the person responds on the other line, then Dazai’s face twists with rage and disbelief, teeth flashing, and his /anger/ shouldn’t be so hot, it shouldn’t make Chuuya want to bend over or give into him—
He takes another stumbling step, feet +
loud on the deck—
A burning gaze snaps to him, immediately pinning him in place.
The air grows thin between them, drawing tight with tension, superheating so quickly Chuuya feels like he’s /boiling/, a flash fire sun between them and setting him ablaze.
The moment lasts +
A burning gaze snaps to him, immediately pinning him in place.
The air grows thin between them, drawing tight with tension, superheating so quickly Chuuya feels like he’s /boiling/, a flash fire sun between them and setting him ablaze.
The moment lasts +
forever, time stretching sweetly elastic between them, like taffy about to break under its own weight—
Then Dazai is reaching up, eyes unwavering as he touches his ear. He murmurs something too low to hear before pressing hard on the Bluetooth. Hanging up.
To Chuuya, louder,+
Then Dazai is reaching up, eyes unwavering as he touches his ear. He murmurs something too low to hear before pressing hard on the Bluetooth. Hanging up.
To Chuuya, louder,+
he says: “I didn’t know you were here.”
That seems pretty rude of Shuuji not to tell him, considering that they’ve had these plans for a few days, definitely long enough for him to tell his dad, but honestly, Chuuya is still trying to restart his brain, staring wide-eyed at +
That seems pretty rude of Shuuji not to tell him, considering that they’ve had these plans for a few days, definitely long enough for him to tell his dad, but honestly, Chuuya is still trying to restart his brain, staring wide-eyed at +
him.
Dazai seems to take that as a sign of something /else/, because his mouth is turning down with remorse, expression souring with regret. He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry you had to see that.”
See what? See him throwing the ball like a +
Dazai seems to take that as a sign of something /else/, because his mouth is turning down with remorse, expression souring with regret. He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry you had to see that.”
See what? See him throwing the ball like a +
professional baseball player? See him snarling at someone like some sort of wild, sexy beast? See him get—
Oh.
He didn’t want Chuuya to see him /angry/.
That’s...shockingly sweet and touching. It’s like he /cares/ what Chuuya thinks about him, cares about making him feel +
Oh.
He didn’t want Chuuya to see him /angry/.
That’s...shockingly sweet and touching. It’s like he /cares/ what Chuuya thinks about him, cares about making him feel +
safe and secure.
(It’s sweet, but unnecessary, and it only makes Chuuya wonder how much Dazai is holding /back/.
And what it’d take to make him /lose/ that control.)
He shrugs, stepping forward and offering him a small, reassuring smile. “It’s nothing. It seemed like +
(It’s sweet, but unnecessary, and it only makes Chuuya wonder how much Dazai is holding /back/.
And what it’d take to make him /lose/ that control.)
He shrugs, stepping forward and offering him a small, reassuring smile. “It’s nothing. It seemed like +
you weren’t very happy with whoever you were speaking with.”
Dazai turns to look at him, expression melting into something softer and more grateful. “It’s...” he trails off, and Chuuya finds himself breathless, waiting to see if Dazai will let him in, give him an opening, +
Dazai turns to look at him, expression melting into something softer and more grateful. “It’s...” he trails off, and Chuuya finds himself breathless, waiting to see if Dazai will let him in, give him an opening, +
finally offer something about himself.
He releases a heavy sigh, borrowing Chuuya’s line from earlier. “It’s nothing.”
God /dammit/. Why won’t he tell Chuuya anything? Shuuji talks to so much Chuuya practically knows what he had for breakfast last week, but Dazai?
Not at+
He releases a heavy sigh, borrowing Chuuya’s line from earlier. “It’s nothing.”
God /dammit/. Why won’t he tell Chuuya anything? Shuuji talks to so much Chuuya practically knows what he had for breakfast last week, but Dazai?
Not at+
all. The man is surprisingly tight-lipped, and annoyingly mysterious. The most Chuuya knows about him is what he’s heard from Chuuya, and the fact that he doesn’t like pancakes.
It’s attractive, in a mysterious, dangerous sort of way but—
Chuuya wants to know /more/. Wants+
It’s attractive, in a mysterious, dangerous sort of way but—
Chuuya wants to know /more/. Wants+
to know what kind of food he likes. What he does in his spare time. What he does for /work/. Where he grew up.
(What he kisses like.)
God, Chuuya just wants to know everything about him, with a desperate fascination. He just—
He just wants to /know/ him.
But every time he+
(What he kisses like.)
God, Chuuya just wants to know everything about him, with a desperate fascination. He just—
He just wants to /know/ him.
But every time he+
seems to be getting closer, or that Dazai is going to offer him something—
He backtracks. It’s so frustrating. It’s /teasing/, stirring Chuuya’s desire for more just to leave him hanging.
“Are you alright?” He asks, blowing out a breath in frustration.
The smile he gets +
He backtracks. It’s so frustrating. It’s /teasing/, stirring Chuuya’s desire for more just to leave him hanging.
“Are you alright?” He asks, blowing out a breath in frustration.
The smile he gets +
looks like it’s full of secrets. “Better now, doll.”
Sometime during the conversation, Chuuya had gotten closer, so close that now he’s staring up at Dazai, miles of hard muscle and soft skin just inches away, brown eyes drawing him in, urging him closer.
And that’s the /best/+
Sometime during the conversation, Chuuya had gotten closer, so close that now he’s staring up at Dazai, miles of hard muscle and soft skin just inches away, brown eyes drawing him in, urging him closer.
And that’s the /best/+
thing about Dazai, because he doesn’t /push/, he doesn’t /pull/, he lets him set the boundaries and /then/ he meets him halfway and escalates it.
It’s not pressure. It’s /encouragement/.
And the way he’s staring down at him now, a tiny, indulgent smile on his face as he +
It’s not pressure. It’s /encouragement/.
And the way he’s staring down at him now, a tiny, indulgent smile on his face as he +
reaches out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear, rough fingertips brushing gently over his jaw and the curve of his neck—
It’s encouragement.
The frustration Chuuya felt earlier, from the cut-off grinding, roars back full force, gathering+
It’s encouragement.
The frustration Chuuya felt earlier, from the cut-off grinding, roars back full force, gathering+
in his lungs until he can’t take a breath that smells like smoke and Dazai, head spinning with it.
He wants, he /wants/, and if he asks, maybe Dazai will give it to /him/, please, /please/ just take care of him—
“Do you have something to say?”
Yes, yes, he does, he’s +
He wants, he /wants/, and if he asks, maybe Dazai will give it to /him/, please, /please/ just take care of him—
“Do you have something to say?”
Yes, yes, he does, he’s +
opening his mouth, he’s going to /ask/ him—
A phone rings, breaking the moment completely.
Dazai looks almost as disappointed as Chuuya suddenly feels, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
He checks the screen and lets out an aggrieved sigh. “I’m sorry— I should probably+
A phone rings, breaking the moment completely.
Dazai looks almost as disappointed as Chuuya suddenly feels, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
He checks the screen and lets out an aggrieved sigh. “I’m sorry— I should probably+
take this.Unless you needed something..?”
Well, /yes/, but now that the moment is shattered, he’s lost the courage to /ask/.
And he doesn’t particularly want to be kissed while his phone rings off the hook.
And it was a lapse of judgement. He shouldn’t kiss Dazai. It’s wrong.+
Well, /yes/, but now that the moment is shattered, he’s lost the courage to /ask/.
And he doesn’t particularly want to be kissed while his phone rings off the hook.
And it was a lapse of judgement. He shouldn’t kiss Dazai. It’s wrong.+
Even if Shuuji and him aren’t /boyfriends/, he still owes him some loyalty, right? Chuuya would be incredibly hurt if he found out Shuuji was sneaking around with someone else.
It was just a lapse in judgement.
“No,” he mutters, taking a step back so he can finally breath some+
It was just a lapse in judgement.
“No,” he mutters, taking a step back so he can finally breath some+
cooler air, “I don’t need anything.”
Dazai stares at him for a long moment, like he doesn’t believe him and he’s giving him another chance to change his mind. Then he huffs out a breath, “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Chuuya watches him walk+
Dazai stares at him for a long moment, like he doesn’t believe him and he’s giving him another chance to change his mind. Then he huffs out a breath, “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
Chuuya watches him walk+
away with his phone pressed to his ear, feeling a profound sense of loss.
He /does/ know where to find him—
And maybe that’s the /problem/.
————— +
The week after is the lead up to midterms, and Chuuya is going /insane/. There’s so much he needs to know, needs to /finish/+
He /does/ know where to find him—
And maybe that’s the /problem/.
————— +
The week after is the lead up to midterms, and Chuuya is going /insane/. There’s so much he needs to know, needs to /finish/+
and only so much time to do it in. Every time he finishes one thing, another two assignments pop up, needing urgently to be finished.
He’s so busy that he doesn’t think of Dazai at /all/, because the rare times he’s not studying, he’s sleeping.
(And god, his dreams have +
He’s so busy that he doesn’t think of Dazai at /all/, because the rare times he’s not studying, he’s sleeping.
(And god, his dreams have +
taken a /hot/ turn, almost every single one of them featuring large hands and a burning gaze, all heat and pressure, electricity in this veins.)
He rarely sees Shuuji, because he has midterms too, and their texts have fallen off a bit. Chuuya would be disappointed in how much+
He rarely sees Shuuji, because he has midterms too, and their texts have fallen off a bit. Chuuya would be disappointed in how much+
they’ve backslid from their progress—
But like he said: incredibly busy.
There /are/ parties after midterms, to celebrate surviving (not passing because a /decent/ amount of people don’t pass) that part of the semester. It’s supposed to be a rager; everyone is invited to at+
But like he said: incredibly busy.
There /are/ parties after midterms, to celebrate surviving (not passing because a /decent/ amount of people don’t pass) that part of the semester. It’s supposed to be a rager; everyone is invited to at+
least one.
Shuuji said one of his /other/ friends, someone that goes to Tokyo, has his parents house for the weekend, and the party is going to be /wild/. Also probably the most luxurious one Chuuya will ever attend, because /that/ friend is even better well-off than +
Shuuji said one of his /other/ friends, someone that goes to Tokyo, has his parents house for the weekend, and the party is going to be /wild/. Also probably the most luxurious one Chuuya will ever attend, because /that/ friend is even better well-off than +
Shuuji is.
It’s also exciting because this is the /first/ time he’s been invited out in public with Shuuji.
Maybe it’s not /exactly/ a date, but it’s close, right? They’ll be together and people will know they’re together, and they’ll have a good time!
He’s not ecstatic that+
It’s also exciting because this is the /first/ time he’s been invited out in public with Shuuji.
Maybe it’s not /exactly/ a date, but it’s close, right? They’ll be together and people will know they’re together, and they’ll have a good time!
He’s not ecstatic that+
their first actual date will be around a bunch of drunken teenagers, but hey—
After this week, /he’ll/ probably be one of those drunken teenagers, so he can’t complain that much.
His last exam is finished with a mixture of relief that he’s finally done, and excitement because+
After this week, /he’ll/ probably be one of those drunken teenagers, so he can’t complain that much.
His last exam is finished with a mixture of relief that he’s finally done, and excitement because+
there’s only a /few/ hours until the party. Until he can see Shuuji again.
He showers thoroughly, taking a little bit of extra time to wash his hair and put product in it.
Staring at his meager makeup bag, he decides that if he’s going to go all out—
He might as well go +
He showers thoroughly, taking a little bit of extra time to wash his hair and put product in it.
Staring at his meager makeup bag, he decides that if he’s going to go all out—
He might as well go +
/all out/.
Putting on his favorite playlist, Chuuya gives himself the sharpest cat eye he can manage. He ends up having to re-do it twice because he’s too busy dancing along with the music to make sure his lines are perfect.
A double coat of mascara, killer highlight on+
Putting on his favorite playlist, Chuuya gives himself the sharpest cat eye he can manage. He ends up having to re-do it twice because he’s too busy dancing along with the music to make sure his lines are perfect.
A double coat of mascara, killer highlight on+
his cheekbones and red-tinted gloss on his lips, and he looks /good/. Kissable, pretty enough to show off.
He takes more than a few selfies, sending a few to Yuan and the /best/ one to Shuuji.
Then he addresses the next problem: clothing.
He still hasn’t had a lot of time to+
He takes more than a few selfies, sending a few to Yuan and the /best/ one to Shuuji.
Then he addresses the next problem: clothing.
He still hasn’t had a lot of time to+
restock his wardrobe, so his choices—particularly for a rich kid party— are rather slim. He doesn’t want to show up looking shabby or like a pity date.
He’ll never be the best-dressed person there, but he doesn’t want to embarrass himself, or Shuuji.
Eventually he settles on+
He’ll never be the best-dressed person there, but he doesn’t want to embarrass himself, or Shuuji.
Eventually he settles on+
a pair of pitch black jeans with fishnets underneath, the hem showing over the waistband.
(Dazai’s shirt— which is still stuffed under his pillow by the way— would probably round off the look nicely, but he doesn’t even allow himself to consider it.)
For the top, he goes with+
(Dazai’s shirt— which is still stuffed under his pillow by the way— would probably round off the look nicely, but he doesn’t even allow himself to consider it.)
For the top, he goes with+
a light turtleneck long sleeve— because he’s not sure how long he’s going to be out— in a lovely dark blue that compliments his eyes and hair. It’s just a /tad/ too short, so when he raises his arms, the hem rides up his stomach.
It’s simple, chic, elegant. Perfect for what he+
It’s simple, chic, elegant. Perfect for what he+
needs.
Checking his phone for texts, he frowns when he sees that Shuuji has opened his snap but never responded. Sure, he’s never been the /best/ at fast responses and he’s probably busy getting ready for the party too, but...
A least a texted heart emoji would’ve been nice.+
Checking his phone for texts, he frowns when he sees that Shuuji has opened his snap but never responded. Sure, he’s never been the /best/ at fast responses and he’s probably busy getting ready for the party too, but...
A least a texted heart emoji would’ve been nice.+
Instead of lingering on that, he opens up the Uber app. Shuuji can’t pick him up and still get them to the party in time, so he agreed to splurge on an Uber.
It takes up most of his allowance for the month, but he’s been pretty good at keeping his spending low, considering that+
It takes up most of his allowance for the month, but he’s been pretty good at keeping his spending low, considering that+
Shuuji usually buys him dinner when they’re together.
Yuan lent him cute ankle-length boots, so he slides them on as he shoots off another text to Shuuji, letting him know that he’ll be leaving soon.
Nikolai is going to some other party that no one else in their group was +
Yuan lent him cute ankle-length boots, so he slides them on as he shoots off another text to Shuuji, letting him know that he’ll be leaving soon.
Nikolai is going to some other party that no one else in their group was +
invited to, so Chuuya locks up as he leaves, shoving his keys into his pocket. His wallet, he leaves at home, because he already lost it once, and he won’t need it since Shuuji will be giving him a ride home.
The Uber arrives quickly, already paid for through the app. He slips+
The Uber arrives quickly, already paid for through the app. He slips+
into the backseat, smiling at the woman driving politely. He’s grateful that she doesn’t try to make much conversation, instead turning the radio up lightly.
As they ease into traffic, he frowns at his phone. Shuuji still hasn’t answered his text.
Granted, Yuan hasn’t answered+
As they ease into traffic, he frowns at his phone. Shuuji still hasn’t answered his text.
Granted, Yuan hasn’t answered+
either, but he’s not meeting /her/ for a ride.
The longer he goes without a response, the more anxious he gets. He triple checks the time, and their texts agreeing when and where to meet up, wondering if he got something wrong.
Why hasn’t he answered? Just even a ‘k’ would+
The longer he goes without a response, the more anxious he gets. He triple checks the time, and their texts agreeing when and where to meet up, wondering if he got something wrong.
Why hasn’t he answered? Just even a ‘k’ would+
suffice. Anything to let him know that Shuuji is there and listening to him.
By the time he arrives at the house, he’s a nervous wreck, fighting the urge to chew on his fingers.
Did Shuuji forget? Did Chuuya get it wrong?
He smiles thinly at the driver, too harried to show+
By the time he arrives at the house, he’s a nervous wreck, fighting the urge to chew on his fingers.
Did Shuuji forget? Did Chuuya get it wrong?
He smiles thinly at the driver, too harried to show+
how much he appreciates the ride, but not rude enough to leave without saying somewhat of a goodbye.
The lights are on in the house, which instantly makes him feel a little better. He’s home, he just didn’t text back for whatever reason.
Everything’s going to be fine and+
The lights are on in the house, which instantly makes him feel a little better. He’s home, he just didn’t text back for whatever reason.
Everything’s going to be fine and+
they’re going to have a good time. By now, he /really/ needs a drink.
Except, when he walks up to the door and knocks—
It’s not Shuuji who answers after a brief pause.
It’s Dazai, with a confused expression on his face.
As always, he looks criminally good, even in his+
Except, when he walks up to the door and knocks—
It’s not Shuuji who answers after a brief pause.
It’s Dazai, with a confused expression on his face.
As always, he looks criminally good, even in his+
casual clothes, hair messy.
Chuuya tries to look past that, clearing his throat. “Hi, Dazai. Is Shuuji home?”
Dazai arches an eyebrow, confused. “No. He left,” he checks the watch on his wrist, heavy and gold, “a few hours ago?”
Chuuya’s heart breaks.
Oh. +
Chuuya tries to look past that, clearing his throat. “Hi, Dazai. Is Shuuji home?”
Dazai arches an eyebrow, confused. “No. He left,” he checks the watch on his wrist, heavy and gold, “a few hours ago?”
Chuuya’s heart breaks.
Oh. +
He...he left /hours/ ago? Before Chuuya first texted him?
He opened his snap, but didn’t tell him that he /wasn’t going to be there/? That their plans were cancelled?
He would’ve understood, if Shuuji had told him earlier, but now he’s all dressed up on Dazai’s porch, staring+
He opened his snap, but didn’t tell him that he /wasn’t going to be there/? That their plans were cancelled?
He would’ve understood, if Shuuji had told him earlier, but now he’s all dressed up on Dazai’s porch, staring+
at him like an idiot while Dazai’s face slowly devolves into something more and more concerned, and he should’ve just stayed home—
How is he going to get /home/? He left his wallet at home, like a trusting dumbass, and he used up /most/ of his money on the Uber here. He doesn’t+
How is he going to get /home/? He left his wallet at home, like a trusting dumbass, and he used up /most/ of his money on the Uber here. He doesn’t+
even have his train card, so even if he walked all the way there, he couldn’t even take the train.
Dazai will probably offer to drive him home, but Chuuya doesn’t even want him to /look/ at him right now because he feels so ugly and twisted with misery, and—
He’s had a very+
Dazai will probably offer to drive him home, but Chuuya doesn’t even want him to /look/ at him right now because he feels so ugly and twisted with misery, and—
He’s had a very+
stressful two weeks, and he’s pretty sure he flunked at least one exam and didn’t get as good a score he needed to on another. He’s low on sleep and has barely eaten, and god this is just the cherry on top of his shit cake.
He feels worthless. Ugly. A naïve fool, so easy for +
He feels worthless. Ugly. A naïve fool, so easy for +
Shuuji to play with, and he falls for it /every single time/.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.
Everything hurts.
“Did you two have something planned?” Dazai’s voice is gentle, cautious, but the sound shatters the remains of Chuuya’s self-control.
“There,” he turns his+
It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.
Everything hurts.
“Did you two have something planned?” Dazai’s voice is gentle, cautious, but the sound shatters the remains of Chuuya’s self-control.
“There,” he turns his+
head so Dazai won’t see as his eyes fill up with tears, because he’s had /enough/ embarrassment for one day, he doesn’t need to start sobbing in plain sight, “there was a party. But I guess I’m not going now so I’ll just, uh... leave. I’ll just leave. Thanks.”
He sniffs wetly+
He sniffs wetly+
as he turns to walk away, subtly touching the corner of his eye to stop the tear from falling and ruining his makeup.
(Dazai has been arguing himself this /whole/ time, because clearly his son is an asshole, but he /shouldn’t/ do anything about it. He should take Chuuya home,+
(Dazai has been arguing himself this /whole/ time, because clearly his son is an asshole, but he /shouldn’t/ do anything about it. He should take Chuuya home,+
let him process that Shuuji will never be as emotionally invested as he is, and then hopefully he’ll never see Shuuji again.
Really, it’s the perfect opportunity for Chuuya to leave his life as quietly as he came in, no fuss, no danger.
He shouldn’t try to fix this. He +
Really, it’s the perfect opportunity for Chuuya to leave his life as quietly as he came in, no fuss, no danger.
He shouldn’t try to fix this. He +
shouldn’t. He /really/ shouldn’t.
Then Chuuya’s face crumples into agony, and he sniffs as he turns away, and Dazai’s thoughts rapidly turn from ‘don’t touch what you can’t have’ to—
What are you /waiting/ for, /fix/ it, you can’t just let him /cry/.
So instead of the words+
Then Chuuya’s face crumples into agony, and he sniffs as he turns away, and Dazai’s thoughts rapidly turn from ‘don’t touch what you can’t have’ to—
What are you /waiting/ for, /fix/ it, you can’t just let him /cry/.
So instead of the words+
“Let me drive you home”coming out of his mouth its—)
“Wait.”
Dazai’s voice stops him in his tracks,and the fact that he /still/ listens so easily—even though Dazai hasn’t hurt Chuuya /ever/—shouldn’t make him more miserable,but it kind of does.
“Let me take you out instead.”+
“Wait.”
Dazai’s voice stops him in his tracks,and the fact that he /still/ listens so easily—even though Dazai hasn’t hurt Chuuya /ever/—shouldn’t make him more miserable,but it kind of does.
“Let me take you out instead.”+
That makes the cycle of misery and self-deprecation break apart, his thoughts dissolving into blankness, and the only thing he can think is ‘what?’.
He must’ve said that out loud, because Dazai is speaking up behind him again, this time a little closer:
“Let me take you to+
He must’ve said that out loud, because Dazai is speaking up behind him again, this time a little closer:
“Let me take you to+
dinner. Please.”
Gentle fingers find his elbow, coaxing him to turn back around. It’s so easy to follow their lead, spinning in place to face him again.
He doesn’t look up farther than Dazai’s chest though, because he’s pretty sure he still looks like he’s having a breakdown.+
Gentle fingers find his elbow, coaxing him to turn back around. It’s so easy to follow their lead, spinning in place to face him again.
He doesn’t look up farther than Dazai’s chest though, because he’s pretty sure he still looks like he’s having a breakdown.+
“What, like a date?”
He /says/ it self-deprecatingly, like that option is so far fetched. He can’t even get a real date with /Shuuji/, let alone his completely out of his league dad—
The next words knock all the breath out of him.
“If you’d like. If not,” there’s a knuckle+
He /says/ it self-deprecatingly, like that option is so far fetched. He can’t even get a real date with /Shuuji/, let alone his completely out of his league dad—
The next words knock all the breath out of him.
“If you’d like. If not,” there’s a knuckle+
under his chin, coaxing him to tip his head back, so gentle he wouldn’t even have to try to resist it, but he doesn’t /want/ to resist it, “think of it as a way to make sure that your pretty makeup doesn’t go to waste.”
Dazai’s fingertip touches the corner of his eye, smoothing+
Dazai’s fingertip touches the corner of his eye, smoothing+
away the tear there without smearing his eyeliner. His expression is torn between concern and sympathy, eyes flicking over his face.
His hold is so gentle that Chuuya could turn around and walk away right now, and he doubts that Dazai would /stop/ him but—
He finds himself+
His hold is so gentle that Chuuya could turn around and walk away right now, and he doubts that Dazai would /stop/ him but—
He finds himself+
staring up at him, wondering if he’s only asking out of pity. He knows he looks pitiful right now,so it would make sense.
But Dazai doesn’t seem reluctant or put out. He’s just gently concerned, offering him a small, genuine smile as he waits for his response.
Chuuya bites his+
But Dazai doesn’t seem reluctant or put out. He’s just gently concerned, offering him a small, genuine smile as he waits for his response.
Chuuya bites his+
lip. Really, what would it hurt?
After the last two weeks he /deserves/ to have a nice time, and he is starving. He’s never been out to dinner before, and he just wants /one/ stupid romantic date to come out of this. Even if it’s with Dazai.
(/Especially/ if it’s with Dazai.)+
After the last two weeks he /deserves/ to have a nice time, and he is starving. He’s never been out to dinner before, and he just wants /one/ stupid romantic date to come out of this. Even if it’s with Dazai.
(/Especially/ if it’s with Dazai.)+
“Are you sure you’re not busy?” He mumbles. Dazai is dressed like he might’ve been going to bed soon, relaxing around the house.
There’s a shake of Dazai’s head, his thumb pressing into his check. “Not for you. Not for this.”
Chuuya lets out a shuddering breath. Alright then.+
There’s a shake of Dazai’s head, his thumb pressing into his check. “Not for you. Not for this.”
Chuuya lets out a shuddering breath. Alright then.+
“Okay,” he agrees, voice small.
It’s just dinner, right?
The smile transforms Dazai’s face, radiating warmth and happiness, and he looks so damn /proud/ of himself, just because Chuuya said yes.
“Lovely,” he responds, stepping out of his way, “let me take care of a few +
It’s just dinner, right?
The smile transforms Dazai’s face, radiating warmth and happiness, and he looks so damn /proud/ of himself, just because Chuuya said yes.
“Lovely,” he responds, stepping out of his way, “let me take care of a few +
things, and then we can go, alright? Come inside, I know Yoko will be happy to see you.”
That does make him feel better, because Yoko is /always/ happy to see him, and it’s such uncomplicated, unconditional love that it makes the ugly knot of emotion in his chest start to fade+
That does make him feel better, because Yoko is /always/ happy to see him, and it’s such uncomplicated, unconditional love that it makes the ugly knot of emotion in his chest start to fade+
away.
When they go inside, Yoko is already waiting at the door, offering Chuuya a more sedate greeting than her usual excitement and sitting still when he crouches down to hug her. She’s surprisingly good at sensing his moods.
Dazai disappears upstairs, probably to change. He+
When they go inside, Yoko is already waiting at the door, offering Chuuya a more sedate greeting than her usual excitement and sitting still when he crouches down to hug her. She’s surprisingly good at sensing his moods.
Dazai disappears upstairs, probably to change. He+
looks good in a loose pair of joggers, and honestly, Chuuya’s standards are so low that he wouldn’t even be that mad if Dazai did take him to dinner in sweats, but he’s definitely looking forward to whatever he chooses to wear.
(Upstairs, on the phone:
“/Seriously/, Dazai,+
(Upstairs, on the phone:
“/Seriously/, Dazai,+
you’re going to use the favor that you’ve been holding over me for /two/ years, to get a /restaurant reservation/? What do you even need it for?”
“That’s the thing,” Dazai snaps as he yanks open his closet, “I don’t need an /explanation/ for a favor, Tanizaki. Get me the table +
“That’s the thing,” Dazai snaps as he yanks open his closet, “I don’t need an /explanation/ for a favor, Tanizaki. Get me the table +
or that new birth certificate you need is going to get lost in the mail.”
“Jeez,” the man grumbles. There’s a faint sound of typing, a rustling of papers before he continues, “best I can do is a table in an hour.”
“Perfect,” Dazai says, surveying his options. “Oh, and make+
“Jeez,” the man grumbles. There’s a faint sound of typing, a rustling of papers before he continues, “best I can do is a table in an hour.”
“Perfect,” Dazai says, surveying his options. “Oh, and make+
sure there are flowers on the table. Orange ones.”
He hangs up, not waiting to hear a response. He already knows Tanizaki will follow his directions— he /owes/ him, and no one dares to fall through on the debts they owe him.)
Yoko proudly shows Chuuya one of her new toys, +
He hangs up, not waiting to hear a response. He already knows Tanizaki will follow his directions— he /owes/ him, and no one dares to fall through on the debts they owe him.)
Yoko proudly shows Chuuya one of her new toys, +
distracting him. He’s so tempted to pull out his phone and check if Shuuji has updated any of his social media, just as a masochistic way to prove himself right.
But he’s finally feeling better, and when he hears the sounds of Dazai getting ready upstairs—he’s /usually/ quiet+
But he’s finally feeling better, and when he hears the sounds of Dazai getting ready upstairs—he’s /usually/ quiet+
when he’s around the house, so quiet that Chuuya almost never hears him— it makes him smile, amused.
It also makes him /nervous/ because, fuck, this is really happening, isn’t it? It’s not some dream, not some misunderstanding.
Dazai said it /could/ be a date, if he wanted it+
It also makes him /nervous/ because, fuck, this is really happening, isn’t it? It’s not some dream, not some misunderstanding.
Dazai said it /could/ be a date, if he wanted it+
to be. Obviously, he /does/ want it to be but—
Does that come with expectations? He’s never been on a /real/ date before, so he doesn’t know what to do.
Is he supposed to act different? Be funnier, prettier, quieter? Is he supposed to kiss him, even if he doesn’t want to? +
Does that come with expectations? He’s never been on a /real/ date before, so he doesn’t know what to do.
Is he supposed to act different? Be funnier, prettier, quieter? Is he supposed to kiss him, even if he doesn’t want to? +
(Not that that will be a problem, because he /does/ want to, it’s just...
He’s /nervous/. What if he doesn’t like it?
What if he kisses like /Shuuji/, all fumbling hands and too-forceful and not good at all?
Just the thought of that makes Chuuya want to cry.)
Before he can+
He’s /nervous/. What if he doesn’t like it?
What if he kisses like /Shuuji/, all fumbling hands and too-forceful and not good at all?
Just the thought of that makes Chuuya want to cry.)
Before he can+
get too nervous though, Dazai is pounding down the stairs again, looking like he’s rushing.
And even though he was probably rushing that entire time— so he wouldn’t keep him waiting, Chuuya realizes, heart warm— he looks /sinfully/ good.
A grey turtleneck that hugs his+
And even though he was probably rushing that entire time— so he wouldn’t keep him waiting, Chuuya realizes, heart warm— he looks /sinfully/ good.
A grey turtleneck that hugs his+
torso beautifully,hinting at the strong muscles underneath. Black jeans that emphasize how thick his thighs are,flexing powerfully underneath the fabric as he steps down.Grey boots.
(Chuuya is suddenly reminded about what they /say/ about men with big feet, and he’s /curious/.)+
(Chuuya is suddenly reminded about what they /say/ about men with big feet, and he’s /curious/.)+
He’s wearing a black trench-coat that flaps around his knees, covering most of his outfit up.
And on his hands....silver rings that match the chain around his neck.
He looks /good/, but in a subtle way, like he’s not trying to be noticed but he’ll give you a show if you /do/+
And on his hands....silver rings that match the chain around his neck.
He looks /good/, but in a subtle way, like he’s not trying to be noticed but he’ll give you a show if you /do/+
see him.
There’s money in his clothes, obviously, but not so much that Chuuya feels underdressed by comparison.
And they /match/, he realizes, face turning red as he touches the collar to his own turtleneck. Is that coincidence or purposeful?
“Are you ready?” Dazai asks+
There’s money in his clothes, obviously, but not so much that Chuuya feels underdressed by comparison.
And they /match/, he realizes, face turning red as he touches the collar to his own turtleneck. Is that coincidence or purposeful?
“Are you ready?” Dazai asks+
shoving his wallet and keys in his pocket. Despite the question, and his own hurry, he doesn’t seem particularly worried either way, like Chuuya could say no and he’d continue to wait patiently.
He is ready though. Giving Yoko one last pat, he stands up and nods in affirmation.+
He is ready though. Giving Yoko one last pat, he stands up and nods in affirmation.+
Dazai smiles at him, big, his hair falling charmingly over his forehead. The dimple flashes at him, then melts away just as quickly as Dazai holds out an arm.
Confused, Chuuya steps closer.
A large hand finds the small of his back, warm and steering him gently through the +
Confused, Chuuya steps closer.
A large hand finds the small of his back, warm and steering him gently through the +
hall towards the garage.
Chuuya is glad he’s walking in front, because his face is on /fire/, and he’s barely watching where he’s going, his entire awareness narrowing down to the heat of Dazai’s fingers over his shirt. His thumb is just on the /edge/ of the hem, and it would +
Chuuya is glad he’s walking in front, because his face is on /fire/, and he’s barely watching where he’s going, his entire awareness narrowing down to the heat of Dazai’s fingers over his shirt. His thumb is just on the /edge/ of the hem, and it would +
only take a shift in the right direction to pressed on the bare skin of his hip.
Dazai unlocks the garage door and urges him out. Yoko has to have Chuuya push her nose back in gently before the door can be shut again.
“It’s a bit of a drive,” Dazai murmurs, following Chuuya to+
Dazai unlocks the garage door and urges him out. Yoko has to have Chuuya push her nose back in gently before the door can be shut again.
“It’s a bit of a drive,” Dazai murmurs, following Chuuya to+
his side of the car. He opens the door for him— a gentlemanly gesture that Chuuya has only seen in movies, one that makes him blush— and leans his arms on the door as Chuuya slides in. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Mind getting to see him driving again, especially with the /changed/+
Mind getting to see him driving again, especially with the /changed/+
atmosphere between them, one that might allow Chuuya to reach across them and hold his free hand...
Or that hand on his thigh, wrapping nearly the width of it, casually possessive as Dazai keeps his eyes on the road, but his thumb is stroking over his skin rhythmically...
He+
Or that hand on his thigh, wrapping nearly the width of it, casually possessive as Dazai keeps his eyes on the road, but his thumb is stroking over his skin rhythmically...
He+
gets to watch Dazai cross the front of the car, opening the garage door and starting the car in a series of smooth confident motions.
Then the door is opening, and Dazai is dropping in, and they're alone, locked in a car together for 'a bit of a drive'. Anticipation rolls down +
Then the door is opening, and Dazai is dropping in, and they're alone, locked in a car together for 'a bit of a drive'. Anticipation rolls down +
his spine, curling hotly in his stomach.
"Where are we going?" He asks, purely for something to say. He likes that Dazai already has a plan in mind, instead of looking to him to make all the decisions. It shows how capable he is of taking control, of guiding the situation. +
"Where are we going?" He asks, purely for something to say. He likes that Dazai already has a plan in mind, instead of looking to him to make all the decisions. It shows how capable he is of taking control, of guiding the situation. +
It shows that he /wants/ this.
Dazai throws a look at him, reversing smoothly out of the garage. "I got us a table at Azamino Ukai-tei. It's the best I could do on such short notice-- but if you'd like to go anywhere else, I'll be happy to take you there instead."
Chuuya's +
Dazai throws a look at him, reversing smoothly out of the garage. "I got us a table at Azamino Ukai-tei. It's the best I could do on such short notice-- but if you'd like to go anywhere else, I'll be happy to take you there instead."
Chuuya's +
eyebrows shoot up. It's not the most /expensive/ restaurant in the city, he's sure, but he /does/ remember seeing it as one of the top options when he was cruising the dining options in Yokohama. It probably has a waiting list at least a week long.
And Dazai got them a table+
And Dazai got them a table+
in less than 20 minutes? Money really does buy everything, doesn't it?
"No," he smiles at Dazai, "that sounds perfect."
The look in Dazai's eye grows into something warmer, sweeter.
The drive is much like the other time Dazai took him home, except this time he's got a few +
"No," he smiles at Dazai, "that sounds perfect."
The look in Dazai's eye grows into something warmer, sweeter.
The drive is much like the other time Dazai took him home, except this time he's got a few +
rings on his fingers, adding a point of interest that draws Chuuya's attention every time he manages to look away. They're beautiful, heavy silver and glinting under the lights of the car.
A stray cat takes the wrong moment to dart across the road, headed straight for the tires+
A stray cat takes the wrong moment to dart across the road, headed straight for the tires+
of the car, and Chuuya is leaning forward, eyes wide, mouth open to warn Dazai--
The car brakes hard, swerving to avoid the cat. A hard forearm is suddenly across his chest, pinning him back against the seat as the rear end of the car wobbles, momentum carrying the turn to a +
The car brakes hard, swerving to avoid the cat. A hard forearm is suddenly across his chest, pinning him back against the seat as the rear end of the car wobbles, momentum carrying the turn to a +
dangerous, screeching degree as the car threatens to tip over--
Just as quickly, Dazai is tapping the gas, twisting the wheel, easily bringing the car back under control.
Chuuya looks out the side mirror, heart in his throat--
The cat crouches, terrified, in the middle of +
Just as quickly, Dazai is tapping the gas, twisting the wheel, easily bringing the car back under control.
Chuuya looks out the side mirror, heart in his throat--
The cat crouches, terrified, in the middle of +
the street for a moment before slinking out of the road, unharmed. Chuuya lets out a relieved breath, sinking back into his seat.
"That cat is going to get hurt someday," Dazai mutters, slowly pulling his arm back.
(Chuuya's heart is still pounding, but for a different reason.+
"That cat is going to get hurt someday," Dazai mutters, slowly pulling his arm back.
(Chuuya's heart is still pounding, but for a different reason.+
Because one of Dazai's /first/ thoughts was his safety. It was immediate, so /reactionary/, that Chuuya barely jerked forward before his forearm was locking him in place.)
He hopes Dazai didn't feel his racing heart against his arm, because it feels like it's beating out of his+
He hopes Dazai didn't feel his racing heart against his arm, because it feels like it's beating out of his+
/chest/. Swallowing hard to gather a little bit of composure, he responds, "Does it have a home or is it a stray?"
Dazai shrugs. "I've never seen it with a collar on, so I'm assuming a stray."
Poor kitty. All things considered, the rich neighborhood probably isn't the worst +
Dazai shrugs. "I've never seen it with a collar on, so I'm assuming a stray."
Poor kitty. All things considered, the rich neighborhood probably isn't the worst +
thing, but it does get cold at night. The poor thing is probably sleeping under porches, or something else equally pitiful.
Chuuya wants to take it home, heart panging in sympathy.
The rest of the drive is relatively uneventful, with the only exciting portion being a +
Chuuya wants to take it home, heart panging in sympathy.
The rest of the drive is relatively uneventful, with the only exciting portion being a +
pedestrian that runs across the crosswalk moments before the light turns green.
Dazai's arm has returned to resting on the center console, wrist hanging off the gearshift and fingers dangling, /so/ tempting, it's only a few inches--
They talk casually, about the dogs or +
Dazai's arm has returned to resting on the center console, wrist hanging off the gearshift and fingers dangling, /so/ tempting, it's only a few inches--
They talk casually, about the dogs or +
Chuuya's classes, or whatever comes to mind.
Shuuji's name does not come up once, and Chuuya is incredibly grateful for that, because he doesn't want to be reminded of what happened earlier, and he doesn't particularly want to stop contemplating the morals of going on a /date/ +
Shuuji's name does not come up once, and Chuuya is incredibly grateful for that, because he doesn't want to be reminded of what happened earlier, and he doesn't particularly want to stop contemplating the morals of going on a /date/ +
with his dad. That might send him spiraling into a pit of guilt and anxiety, and he /really/ just wants to have a good time tonight.
He is having a good time too, so far, because Dazai is funny and he gets this glint in his eye whenever he makes Chuuya laugh, like he's proud+
He is having a good time too, so far, because Dazai is funny and he gets this glint in his eye whenever he makes Chuuya laugh, like he's proud+
of himself. Like his only goal for the evening is to make him feel good and safe and secure.
When they arrive at the restaurant, there is only a few parking spots. There is a valet option, but Dazai skips that, choosing instead to find his own spot. Chuuya wonders why.
When he+
When they arrive at the restaurant, there is only a few parking spots. There is a valet option, but Dazai skips that, choosing instead to find his own spot. Chuuya wonders why.
When he+
finally parks, Chuuya gets out before Dazai can come around the car for him.
(Of course, Dazai doesn't /say/ anything, but it takes quite a bit to keep the disappointed pout off his face.)
The hand finds his lower back again as they walk towards the entrance, and Chuuya is +
(Of course, Dazai doesn't /say/ anything, but it takes quite a bit to keep the disappointed pout off his face.)
The hand finds his lower back again as they walk towards the entrance, and Chuuya is +
starting to think that Dazai is treating this like a /real/ date, even without Chuuya saying something, because this is as much as he's touched him, ever.
It's easily escaped, just one step up and the hand would slide off his back--
But Chuuya /likes/ the sensation, the gentle+
It's easily escaped, just one step up and the hand would slide off his back--
But Chuuya /likes/ the sensation, the gentle+
guiding that Dazai gives him with easy pressure from the tips of his fingers, drawing him closer or urging him in a different direction around a poorly parked car.
He opens the door for them both, and the restaurant is pleasantly warm, the smell of delicious food wafting out+
He opens the door for them both, and the restaurant is pleasantly warm, the smell of delicious food wafting out+
and making Chuuya's mouth water. He'd been so excited earlier today that he forgot to eat much besides a few pieces of bread in anticipation of drinking.
Maybe not his best choice, but one he is appreciating now, because that means he can eat /more/ of the delicious food here.+
Maybe not his best choice, but one he is appreciating now, because that means he can eat /more/ of the delicious food here.+
Dazai approaches the hostess without hesitation, murmuring his name. She greets them both briefly before leading them to a back table that’s set a little ways from the others, almost secluded.
Dazai pulls out his chair for him, clearly intending to give Chuuya to full date +
Dazai pulls out his chair for him, clearly intending to give Chuuya to full date +
experience.
(It’s also because that leaves Dazai with the chair near the wall, so he can watch all the entrances and keep an eye on anyone approaching. Not that he’ll tell Chuuya that.)
There’s candles on the table, burning low and atmospheric. And in the center—
Orange+
(It’s also because that leaves Dazai with the chair near the wall, so he can watch all the entrances and keep an eye on anyone approaching. Not that he’ll tell Chuuya that.)
There’s candles on the table, burning low and atmospheric. And in the center—
Orange+
flowers, in a beautiful bouquet.
It's not the same kind as he received earlier-- those ones lasted four days before they started to wilt and he managed to save one orange rose by pressing it between the pages of a book-- but they're close enough that he's immediately struck by+
It's not the same kind as he received earlier-- those ones lasted four days before they started to wilt and he managed to save one orange rose by pressing it between the pages of a book-- but they're close enough that he's immediately struck by+
the similarity.
He touches the petals, gently, heart in his mouth. "Did you get these for me?"
Dazai sits in his chair, gesturing for the waiter to bring them a few menus. "Yes. I would've gotten you something more meaningful, but I didn't have enough time."
His eyes are +
He touches the petals, gently, heart in his mouth. "Did you get these for me?"
Dazai sits in his chair, gesturing for the waiter to bring them a few menus. "Yes. I would've gotten you something more meaningful, but I didn't have enough time."
His eyes are +
stuck on the flowers, and suddenly he realizes--
The first bouquet arrived only hours after Dazai dropped him off. Hours after the man spent all /morning/ trying to cheer him up, cracking jokes and bickering with him good-naturedly, teaching him how to control the dogs.
And +
The first bouquet arrived only hours after Dazai dropped him off. Hours after the man spent all /morning/ trying to cheer him up, cracking jokes and bickering with him good-naturedly, teaching him how to control the dogs.
And +
when he called Shuuji about it, he still sounded groggy, like he'd just woken up. He'd also never claimed them /directly/, and if he /did/ send them--
Why wouldn't he have left a card? Why the mysterious black business card?
Did...
Did /Dazai/ send them?
His eyes wander up,+
Why wouldn't he have left a card? Why the mysterious black business card?
Did...
Did /Dazai/ send them?
His eyes wander up,+
taking him in, the way the candlelight dances over the features of his face, sharpening his cheekbones. His eyes are dark enough that they reflect the flames, like a demon out of hell, unreadable and mysterious and smiling wickedly at him.
He looks like something out of +
He looks like something out of +
Chuuya's most delicious and secret dreams.
He has to ask.
"Did... did you send me anything /before/?"
Before Dazai can answer, the waitress comes over with their menus, placing them on either side of the table. She also pours two cups of water for them, leaving them in the+
He has to ask.
"Did... did you send me anything /before/?"
Before Dazai can answer, the waitress comes over with their menus, placing them on either side of the table. She also pours two cups of water for them, leaving them in the+
middle of the table.
Dazai flips open his wine menu, shooting him a small, secretive, /teasing/ grin over the top, before changing the subject. "I hear the Monte Bello wine is good; you should try it."
Chuuya narrows his eyes at him, wondering if he can pressure him into +
Dazai flips open his wine menu, shooting him a small, secretive, /teasing/ grin over the top, before changing the subject. "I hear the Monte Bello wine is good; you should try it."
Chuuya narrows his eyes at him, wondering if he can pressure him into +
answering with sheer presence, but he just continues scanning his menu with that infuriating little grin on his face.
Fine then.
He does drag his menu over, though mostly just to awe at the options. "I'm not twenty," he mutters, reminding Dazai that he's still not of drinking+
Fine then.
He does drag his menu over, though mostly just to awe at the options. "I'm not twenty," he mutters, reminding Dazai that he's still not of drinking+
age, even if it makes him feel incredibly young.
"You're with me, sweetheart; no one will question you."
That's probably true, because Dazai exudes this powerful energy, like someone who should /not/ be questioned or defied. And if he insists--
Chuuya's not going to pass up+
"You're with me, sweetheart; no one will question you."
That's probably true, because Dazai exudes this powerful energy, like someone who should /not/ be questioned or defied. And if he insists--
Chuuya's not going to pass up+
the opportunity to have a glass that /literally/ costs over fifteen-thousand yen. The price does make him ache a bit, but if Dazai is offering... he won't say no. If he does, he might never get the chance again.
The waitress comes back after a few minutes, much more attentive+
The waitress comes back after a few minutes, much more attentive+
than any server in every other restaurant Chuuya's ever been in.
She takes their drink orders-- expensive whiskey for Dazai and the wine for Chuuya-- without blinking, scribbling down their orders before hurrying away.
It's only wine-- not like he's underage at a bar-- but the+
She takes their drink orders-- expensive whiskey for Dazai and the wine for Chuuya-- without blinking, scribbling down their orders before hurrying away.
It's only wine-- not like he's underage at a bar-- but the+
feeling of breaking the rules, even a little bit, sends a rush of adrenaline through him, making him grin. It's nothing he hasn't done before--he's had wine several times--but it still makes him feel a little wild, a little reckless, a little dangerous.
"What are you studying?"+
"What are you studying?"+
Dazai asks.
It's a general question, small talk, but it really highlights how little they know about each other. Sometimes, with how easily Dazai seems to /get/ him, it's easy to forget that they've only spent a few hours together, over the course of a month.
It's hard to +
It's a general question, small talk, but it really highlights how little they know about each other. Sometimes, with how easily Dazai seems to /get/ him, it's easy to forget that they've only spent a few hours together, over the course of a month.
It's hard to +
remember that they're basically strangers,when it feels like Dazai's known him forever.
"Engineering," he responds.
Their drinks arrive then, placed on the table gently. Their food orders are taken next--the Kaitei steak course for Dazai that pairs nicely with the whiskey, and+
"Engineering," he responds.
Their drinks arrive then, placed on the table gently. Their food orders are taken next--the Kaitei steak course for Dazai that pairs nicely with the whiskey, and+
the seafood course for Chuuya--before she hurries away again.
"Your family must be proud," Dazai says,voice low. To be truthful--
/He/ sounds a lot prouder than Chuuya's dad was, when he found out. Not that Rimbaud isn't proud of him, he just wanted him to do something more...+
"Your family must be proud," Dazai says,voice low. To be truthful--
/He/ sounds a lot prouder than Chuuya's dad was, when he found out. Not that Rimbaud isn't proud of him, he just wanted him to do something more...+
/Competitive/. More distinguished, something that he can brag about to all the other parents on the block.
He shrugs, taking a little sip of his wine. Flavor bursts over his tongue, deep and warm, so rich that he's automatically letting out a little moan, taking a longer sip.
+
He shrugs, taking a little sip of his wine. Flavor bursts over his tongue, deep and warm, so rich that he's automatically letting out a little moan, taking a longer sip.
+
Dark eyes sharpen on him, growing darker, more intent.
Chuuya doesn't notice.
"Mm," he sighs, "they are, they just...wanted something more for me. Dad was deadset on me being a lawyer, since I like to argue so much. He was a little upset when I told him my major."
That makes+
Chuuya doesn't notice.
"Mm," he sighs, "they are, they just...wanted something more for me. Dad was deadset on me being a lawyer, since I like to argue so much. He was a little upset when I told him my major."
That makes+
Dazai tilt his head, eyebrows creasing. "You're at Keio, though, aren't you? It's a very prestigious school; you must be incredibly smart to get in, no matter what you're studying."
Chuuya squirms a little, uncomfortable. Most days he doesn't /feel/ smart, because he's always+
Chuuya squirms a little, uncomfortable. Most days he doesn't /feel/ smart, because he's always+
had to work harder, study harder and longer, than a decent part of his class. Some of his fellow students just suck in the information like it's /air/, never struggling and barely having to study.
Most of the time, he just feels like he's keeping up instead of excelling. He's+
Most of the time, he just feels like he's keeping up instead of excelling. He's+
never the /best/, never the most wanted, never the top.
He just... works hard, that's it. That's all.
Thankfully, their food arrives then, giving him a moment longer to think as the plates are set on the table accordingly.
(He tells himself that the grateful, polite smile +
He just... works hard, that's it. That's all.
Thankfully, their food arrives then, giving him a moment longer to think as the plates are set on the table accordingly.
(He tells himself that the grateful, polite smile +
Dazai gives the waittress and her responding dazzled look doesn't make his stomach boil with resentment and jealousy.)
Taking the moment to change the subject, Chuuya asks, "What do you do? For work, I mean."
Dazai takes his sweet time arranging his utensils to his liking, +
Taking the moment to change the subject, Chuuya asks, "What do you do? For work, I mean."
Dazai takes his sweet time arranging his utensils to his liking, +
piling his plate with food slowly. He has a thoughtful expression on his face, like he's deciding what exactly to tell Chuuya.
Eventually he speaks up, lifting a bite of steak to his mouth, "I work in information, and protection."
That's... not exactly the answer Chuuya was+
Eventually he speaks up, lifting a bite of steak to his mouth, "I work in information, and protection."
That's... not exactly the answer Chuuya was+
expecting. He was expecting more of a company name, or an actual job title, not this vague non-answer.
He takes a bite of his crab--is it just him, or do Dazai's eyes follow his fork like a dog begging for treats-- and says, "Like security? Personal protection?"
Dazai grins at+
He takes a bite of his crab--is it just him, or do Dazai's eyes follow his fork like a dog begging for treats-- and says, "Like security? Personal protection?"
Dazai grins at+
him like he just won the lottery. "/Exactly/ like personal protection."
Well--
Still not a name, still not a company, but obviously he must be in high demand, considering how wealthy he is, so maybe it's a safety precaution.
Or a trust thing, Chuuya reminds himself, because+
Well--
Still not a name, still not a company, but obviously he must be in high demand, considering how wealthy he is, so maybe it's a safety precaution.
Or a trust thing, Chuuya reminds himself, because+
they are /still/ just getting to know eachother.
(The idea of that makes him both sad and even more determined to prove himself to Dazai.)
This time, when he raises another bite of crab to his lips, the way Dazai is staring is obvious.
Chuuya pauses, curious, wondering why+
(The idea of that makes him both sad and even more determined to prove himself to Dazai.)
This time, when he raises another bite of crab to his lips, the way Dazai is staring is obvious.
Chuuya pauses, curious, wondering why+
the man didn’t just order crab if he wanted it so bad, but it gives him a chance to /turn/ the tables.
He waves the fork at him, teasing. “Do you /want/ a bite?”
Dazai licks his bottom lip, slow, the pink of his tongue slick and tempting. He looks from the fork up to Chuuya,+
He waves the fork at him, teasing. “Do you /want/ a bite?”
Dazai licks his bottom lip, slow, the pink of his tongue slick and tempting. He looks from the fork up to Chuuya,+
eyes gleaming. “I would /love/ one,” he purrs, and the sensual tone in his voice makes Chuuya wonder if he’s taking about the crab—
Or if he wants a bite of /Chuuya/.
Breathless, he offers the fork up to him. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, for Dazai to take the fork from+
Or if he wants a bite of /Chuuya/.
Breathless, he offers the fork up to him. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, for Dazai to take the fork from+
his hands or pull the crab off with his own fork—
Whatever it is, it’s not for Dazai to lean across the table, smoldering eyes locked on his like he’s /daring/ Chuuya to look away, and taking the fork in his mouth.
With the handle still in his fingers, he can feel the movement+
Whatever it is, it’s not for Dazai to lean across the table, smoldering eyes locked on his like he’s /daring/ Chuuya to look away, and taking the fork in his mouth.
With the handle still in his fingers, he can feel the movement+
of Dazai’s teeth and tongue, pulling off the crab, /achingly/ slowly.
Somehow, the room feels suddenly ten degrees hotter than before. His face feels like it’s on fire, but he can’t look away for even a second as Dazai finally leans back in his seat, a satisfied expression on+
Somehow, the room feels suddenly ten degrees hotter than before. His face feels like it’s on fire, but he can’t look away for even a second as Dazai finally leans back in his seat, a satisfied expression on+
his face.
“Thank you, doll; that was very /sweet/ of you.”
God, when he says it like /that/, it makes it sound like he wants to give Chuuya a reward for it.
He takes a sip of his wine to recover and cool off, which is a mistake. He’s not entirely sure if it’s the wine or +
“Thank you, doll; that was very /sweet/ of you.”
God, when he says it like /that/, it makes it sound like he wants to give Chuuya a reward for it.
He takes a sip of his wine to recover and cool off, which is a mistake. He’s not entirely sure if it’s the wine or +
the way Dazai is smirking at him, but it feels like there’s a burning ball of tension in his stomach, pumping slow, inescapable heat into his veins, until it feels like he’s swallowed lava and it’s consuming him whole.
“You’re welcome,” he mutters, voice breathy.
That makes+
“You’re welcome,” he mutters, voice breathy.
That makes+
the smile widen, and Dazai smothers it in his drink, watching him closely over the rim. His teeth flash sharply in the light, and Chuuya has the sudden thought that he doesn’t think he’d mind being eaten /alive/.
This time, when the waitress comes, Dazai’s eyes don’t leave him+
This time, when the waitress comes, Dazai’s eyes don’t leave him+
for a /second/, watching him closely.
"Would you like dessert?" The waitress asks. She doesn't look at Chuuya at all, which is /slightly/ irritating, but it's offset by the fact that Dazai isn't paying her any attention at all.
"Mm," Dazai hums, contemplating. "Yes. Something+
"Would you like dessert?" The waitress asks. She doesn't look at Chuuya at all, which is /slightly/ irritating, but it's offset by the fact that Dazai isn't paying her any attention at all.
"Mm," Dazai hums, contemplating. "Yes. Something+
sweet. Fruity. Chocolate?"
The last part is directed at Chuuya, a question. He nods, pushing his plate away to make room. He doesn't usually order desserts at restaurants, but it's like Dazai read his mind.
The waitress nods, taking a few of their empty plates away when she +
The last part is directed at Chuuya, a question. He nods, pushing his plate away to make room. He doesn't usually order desserts at restaurants, but it's like Dazai read his mind.
The waitress nods, taking a few of their empty plates away when she +
goes.
Chuuya doesn't know how long it takes for her to come back with a small cake in her hands. He doesn't know what they talk about.
All he knows is that Dazai's eyes feel like molten caramel, deep enough to drown in and Chuuya is sinking, melting, burning alive, desperate.+
Chuuya doesn't know how long it takes for her to come back with a small cake in her hands. He doesn't know what they talk about.
All he knows is that Dazai's eyes feel like molten caramel, deep enough to drown in and Chuuya is sinking, melting, burning alive, desperate.+
She sets the plate in front of Dazai, and he doesn't even care that she's ignoring him anymore, because Dazai is taking a clean fork in hand, carefully spearing a chunk of deliciously warm chocolate, fluffy cake and a pretty raspberry.
With an indulgent grin, he offers the bite+
With an indulgent grin, he offers the bite+
to him across the table. "/Want/ a bite?" he asks, teasingly.
Yes. Of the cake /and/ Dazai.
This time it's Chuuya's turn to lean across the table. He's not quite confident to take the bite without looking, but as soon as he gets the fork in his mouth, flavor bursts across his+
Yes. Of the cake /and/ Dazai.
This time it's Chuuya's turn to lean across the table. He's not quite confident to take the bite without looking, but as soon as he gets the fork in his mouth, flavor bursts across his+
tongue, making his eyes fall shut on a soft moan.
The fork doesn't waver, but the tension builds.
Dazai feeds him another bite, this time with a blueberry, and that's when Chuuya notices he hasn't moved to take a bite for himself.
"Are you going to have any?"
Dazai hums, +
The fork doesn't waver, but the tension builds.
Dazai feeds him another bite, this time with a blueberry, and that's when Chuuya notices he hasn't moved to take a bite for himself.
"Are you going to have any?"
Dazai hums, +
and this time, the bite he offers has a load of melted chocolate on it. Chuuya takes it easily, using his tongue to get most of the chocolate.
"I'm not much of a sweets person," Dazai says lowly, taking the fork back. "I'm /picky/ with my food."
Then, making deliberate, +
"I'm not much of a sweets person," Dazai says lowly, taking the fork back. "I'm /picky/ with my food."
Then, making deliberate, +
devastating eye contact, he lifts the fork to his mouth, and slowly, oh so fucking slowly, licks off a smear of chocolate Chuuya had missed.
It feels like a /crime/ to watch,because his tongue is wet and /thorough/, getting every trace of the sweet off, curling at the edge with+
It feels like a /crime/ to watch,because his tongue is wet and /thorough/, getting every trace of the sweet off, curling at the edge with+
an ease that speaks of /skill/.
And Chuuya--
God, he doesn't even know /what/ he's thinking, if he's thinking at all, because he feels hot and cold, electric, melting like putty in Dazai's hands as he offers him another bite, and /fuck/, this one tastes so much better after it+
And Chuuya--
God, he doesn't even know /what/ he's thinking, if he's thinking at all, because he feels hot and cold, electric, melting like putty in Dazai's hands as he offers him another bite, and /fuck/, this one tastes so much better after it+
had Dazai's mouth all over it.
He's going to /die/ if Dazai keeps this up.
After a few more bites, Chuuya can't handle it anymore, slumping back in his chair. He needs a bathroom break or a cold shower or /something/.
(He needs /Dazai/.)
How is he going to survive the ride+
He's going to /die/ if Dazai keeps this up.
After a few more bites, Chuuya can't handle it anymore, slumping back in his chair. He needs a bathroom break or a cold shower or /something/.
(He needs /Dazai/.)
How is he going to survive the ride+
home? The drive /here/ was bad enough, but now he's half-hard already--embarassing, because Dazai literally has not touched him at all since they first arrived-- and he's so desperate he could beg for it.
Beg for what, exactly, he doesn't know, but he's pretty sure Dazai will.+
Beg for what, exactly, he doesn't know, but he's pretty sure Dazai will.+
He excuses himself to the restroom, taking a long minute to cool off and splash his face with water. It's not /fair/ the effect Dazai has on him, because he's pretty sure he doesn't have half the effect or skill to play Dazai like he's playing him.
And this time, today, Chuuya+
And this time, today, Chuuya+
doesn't lie to himself.
This is flriting. This is sexual tension. Dazai's been flirting with him /all/ night, and he can't help but wonder--
What is he going to /do/ about it?
By the time he returns, Dazai has already paid for their meal and is finishing off his glass of +
This is flriting. This is sexual tension. Dazai's been flirting with him /all/ night, and he can't help but wonder--
What is he going to /do/ about it?
By the time he returns, Dazai has already paid for their meal and is finishing off his glass of +
whiskey. Chuuya is glad he only had 1 glass, because even though Dazai is the best driver he's ever seen, he's still traumatized by all those anti-drunk driving ads.
Dazai throws back the rest of his drink when he sees him coming back, Adam's Apple bobbing. "Are you ready?" He+
Dazai throws back the rest of his drink when he sees him coming back, Adam's Apple bobbing. "Are you ready?" He+
asks.
(Ready for anything you'll give me, Chuuya thinks near-hysterically--.)
He nods.
/Again/,with the hand on his back and god,it feels /so/ close to where Chuuya would like it to be, only a few inches away from bare skin, and he's on the verge of /tears/ with desperation.+
(Ready for anything you'll give me, Chuuya thinks near-hysterically--.)
He nods.
/Again/,with the hand on his back and god,it feels /so/ close to where Chuuya would like it to be, only a few inches away from bare skin, and he's on the verge of /tears/ with desperation.+
Dazai opens his door for him again, and Chuuya slides in with a murmured thanks, taking the moment to brace himself for the ride home--
And he's glad he did, because not /only/ does Dazai look delicious as he slides into his seat, but as soon as he's done reversing out of his+
And he's glad he did, because not /only/ does Dazai look delicious as he slides into his seat, but as soon as he's done reversing out of his+
spot, his free hand drifts over the space between them, bridging the distance between them--
And settles on Chuuya's thigh, silver rings pressing into him.
Chuuya is /gone/. His heartbeat feels too big for his skin, and he's so hot he actually needs to roll down the window so +
And settles on Chuuya's thigh, silver rings pressing into him.
Chuuya is /gone/. His heartbeat feels too big for his skin, and he's so hot he actually needs to roll down the window so +
he can breathe again, and the feeling of Dazai's thumb stroking up and down, never climbing higher than where he started but he wish it /was/, is filling him with so much tension he could /snap/.
He wishes he had worn shorts or something because /please/, wants that on his bare+
He wishes he had worn shorts or something because /please/, wants that on his bare+
skin, wants it higher, /harder/.
God, /please/, he'll do anything--
He doesn't remember the ride back. Hopes Dazai hadn't said anything to him, because he's not sure if he can communicate in anything other than ridiculously horny gurgles. Hopes he hasn't made a fool out of +
God, /please/, he'll do anything--
He doesn't remember the ride back. Hopes Dazai hadn't said anything to him, because he's not sure if he can communicate in anything other than ridiculously horny gurgles. Hopes he hasn't made a fool out of +
himself, because he wants more, wants Dazai to give him more, wants Dazai to /want/ to want to give him more--
The car stops, and his vision clears, and Chuuya quickly comes to one, sudden, unfortunate realization:
The date is over. He's home, and Dazai is walking across the +
The car stops, and his vision clears, and Chuuya quickly comes to one, sudden, unfortunate realization:
The date is over. He's home, and Dazai is walking across the +
front of the car to let him out, and he doesn't /want/ it to be over.
He wants to keep driving. Or go see a movie, or, or--
Or be taken home, because he doesn't want this to /end/, he wants more time with Dazai, more touches, more looks, /anything/.
The door opens, and he has+
He wants to keep driving. Or go see a movie, or, or--
Or be taken home, because he doesn't want this to /end/, he wants more time with Dazai, more touches, more looks, /anything/.
The door opens, and he has+
no choice but to stumble out.
The cold air clears his head a little bit, calms him down. At least, he can think about something else rather than the ghost of Dazai's hand on his thigh.
He turns around, expecting a goodbye or Dazai to already be walking away--
Except he's not.+
The cold air clears his head a little bit, calms him down. At least, he can think about something else rather than the ghost of Dazai's hand on his thigh.
He turns around, expecting a goodbye or Dazai to already be walking away--
Except he's not.+
He's leaning up against the car with his legs spread wide, dropping him down a few centimeters. His hands are in his pockets, and he's watching Chuuya with a steady, intense gaze.
They stare at each other for a long, breathless moment.
When he can't take it anymore, Chuuya +
They stare at each other for a long, breathless moment.
When he can't take it anymore, Chuuya +
swallows hard, mouth dry. "Thank you, for dinner. I had a good time."
Dazai's smile is slow, self-satisfied. Smug and a /little/ arrogant, but Chuuya will overlook it because he looks /so/ damn good. "Yeah?" he purrs, "I'm glad."
He really does look glad too, like he wanted +
Dazai's smile is slow, self-satisfied. Smug and a /little/ arrogant, but Chuuya will overlook it because he looks /so/ damn good. "Yeah?" he purrs, "I'm glad."
He really does look glad too, like he wanted +
nothing more than to make sure Chuuya had a good time.
Chuuya stands there a little awkwardly, not sure what he's supposed to do or /say/--
Dazai tilts his head. He doesn't move, but his voice seems to reach across the distance and grab Chuuya by the throat. "Can I kiss you?"+
Chuuya stands there a little awkwardly, not sure what he's supposed to do or /say/--
Dazai tilts his head. He doesn't move, but his voice seems to reach across the distance and grab Chuuya by the throat. "Can I kiss you?"+
Chuuya's world stops. His breath stalls in his chest, and his eyes are wide with shock and surprise. Dazai's gaze are pinning him in place like pins through a butterfly wings, spreading him open for his enjoyment.
He doesn't know what to say. Well, obviously, /yes/ but-- +
He doesn't know what to say. Well, obviously, /yes/ but-- +
He's a /little/ confused, because no one's asked him before. "Why are you asking? Shouldn't you just--" he gestures vaguely, "do it?"
Asking is nice, but it puts him on the spot a little, embarrasses him, espeically since Dazai will /not/ look away, not even for a second.
His+
Asking is nice, but it puts him on the spot a little, embarrasses him, espeically since Dazai will /not/ look away, not even for a second.
His+
answer makes a scowl cross Dazai's expression, and for a second, Chuuya is worried that he did something wrong--
Then it goes away, and instead Dazai is looking at him with faint concern.
(It hasn't gone away; it's just /hidden/, in how hard Dazai's jaw is clenched from the +
Then it goes away, and instead Dazai is looking at him with faint concern.
(It hasn't gone away; it's just /hidden/, in how hard Dazai's jaw is clenched from the +
/idea/ that someone taught him that his consent was unneccessary or an afterthought.)
"Baby," he sighs gently,and Chuuya's heart is skipping a beat, "people you don't know should /always/ ask you. Even people you are comfortable with should ask you."
Oh. Well, that seems weird+
"Baby," he sighs gently,and Chuuya's heart is skipping a beat, "people you don't know should /always/ ask you. Even people you are comfortable with should ask you."
Oh. Well, that seems weird+
to /Chuuya/, but he can see why that would be nice.
Then he has nothing left to stall with, and he /does/ want it, badly, so: "Okay."
Dazai tsks at him, expression fond. "You know I like to hear you say it."
He does know that, it's just /embarrassing/, especially with Dazai+
Then he has nothing left to stall with, and he /does/ want it, badly, so: "Okay."
Dazai tsks at him, expression fond. "You know I like to hear you say it."
He does know that, it's just /embarrassing/, especially with Dazai+
/staring him down/ like that. But he wants it enough to work through it, and so he squeezes his eyes shut and mumbles loud enough for Dazai to hear, "kiss me."
Then, as an afterthought, because he knows Dazai likes it when he's /polite/, "please."
Silence, fraught with tension+
Then, as an afterthought, because he knows Dazai likes it when he's /polite/, "please."
Silence, fraught with tension+
stretching endlessly between them.
Chuuya is expecting--
Well, based on past experiences,to be pushed back or grabbed roughly, or otherwise /pulled/ into a kiss. He doesn't even mind the idea, because the thought of Dazai's hands on him again is intoxicating enough--
Instead,+
Chuuya is expecting--
Well, based on past experiences,to be pushed back or grabbed roughly, or otherwise /pulled/ into a kiss. He doesn't even mind the idea, because the thought of Dazai's hands on him again is intoxicating enough--
Instead,+
fingers are gently wrapping around his wrist, coaxing him closer.
It's the easiest thing in the world to follow their lead, stumbling forward until he's caged between the warmth of Dazai's legs, spread wide enough for him to settle between perfectly.
His hand is brought up, +
It's the easiest thing in the world to follow their lead, stumbling forward until he's caged between the warmth of Dazai's legs, spread wide enough for him to settle between perfectly.
His hand is brought up, +
chest-level, /higher/, until Dazai is placing it on his own shoulder.
He grips the fabric of his jacket, thankful for something to hold onto as Dazai's fingers slide down his other arm, ticklishly light, over his elbow and down to his wrist.
He repeats the process until Chuuya+
He grips the fabric of his jacket, thankful for something to hold onto as Dazai's fingers slide down his other arm, ticklishly light, over his elbow and down to his wrist.
He repeats the process until Chuuya+
is standing there with both hands on his shoulders, hands flexing as he waits, face turned up, trembling.
This is it. Dazai's going to kiss him, right here, right now.
A hand slides across his back, pulling him /that/ much closer, and Chuuya is leaning in, leaning /up/, +
This is it. Dazai's going to kiss him, right here, right now.
A hand slides across his back, pulling him /that/ much closer, and Chuuya is leaning in, leaning /up/, +
closing the distance, so close and yet /so far/--
He can feel Dazai leaning in, hot breath washing over his face, sweet with chocolate and whiskey, intoxicating.
"Open your eyes. I want to see you," Dazai murmurs into the space between them, impossible to miss, impossible not+
He can feel Dazai leaning in, hot breath washing over his face, sweet with chocolate and whiskey, intoxicating.
"Open your eyes. I want to see you," Dazai murmurs into the space between them, impossible to miss, impossible not+
obey. "I want you to watch, the first time I kiss you."
/Fuck/.
Chuuya's eyes crack open immediately, and the first thing he sees is a dark gaze, inches from his face, drugging him with how intense and burning they are.
And they're getting closer.
Closer--
/Closer/-- +
/Fuck/.
Chuuya's eyes crack open immediately, and the first thing he sees is a dark gaze, inches from his face, drugging him with how intense and burning they are.
And they're getting closer.
Closer--
/Closer/-- +
And finally, /finally/, their lips press together.
It's /everything/.
Soft, chaste, gentle. Easy.
Chuuya's eyes flutter shut naturally on a soft sigh, one that's swallowed by Dazai. His lips are dry, but /good/, nothing like the forceful or too-abrupt kisses he's had before.+
It's /everything/.
Soft, chaste, gentle. Easy.
Chuuya's eyes flutter shut naturally on a soft sigh, one that's swallowed by Dazai. His lips are dry, but /good/, nothing like the forceful or too-abrupt kisses he's had before.+
It's good, of course it's good and then--
Dazai's hand firms on his back, pulling him close to his chest and supporting the natural curve of his back as he leans up to meet up him. His head tilts slightly, lips sliding across his in a motion Chuuya can't help but chase--
And +
Dazai's hand firms on his back, pulling him close to his chest and supporting the natural curve of his back as he leans up to meet up him. His head tilts slightly, lips sliding across his in a motion Chuuya can't help but chase--
And +
then it's /great/.
He doesn't even feel nervous,because he's too busy following after Dazai's movements like a man addicted, and Dazai is leading him beautifully.The kiss is slow at first, both of them just enjoying the slide of their lips together, the way their breath mingles+
He doesn't even feel nervous,because he's too busy following after Dazai's movements like a man addicted, and Dazai is leading him beautifully.The kiss is slow at first, both of them just enjoying the slide of their lips together, the way their breath mingles+
together, each breath hotter than the last.
Then Dazai's mouth opens a /little/ and Chuuya is getting a taste of the wet hidden behind his lips, and he's /shudering/, pushing upwards as high as he can, hands fisting in Dazai's jacket to drag him down, silently demanding he kiss+
Then Dazai's mouth opens a /little/ and Chuuya is getting a taste of the wet hidden behind his lips, and he's /shudering/, pushing upwards as high as he can, hands fisting in Dazai's jacket to drag him down, silently demanding he kiss+
him harder, deeper, /more/.
His enthusiasm seems to spur Dazai on,and at the same tome his tongue swipes torturously slow across his bottom lip, his fingers are sliding over his jaw, rough fingertips sparking tingling sensation, sliding further into his hair and cupping his jaw+
His enthusiasm seems to spur Dazai on,and at the same tome his tongue swipes torturously slow across his bottom lip, his fingers are sliding over his jaw, rough fingertips sparking tingling sensation, sliding further into his hair and cupping his jaw+
to tilt his head back for a better angle.
The double sensations make a soft noise rise in the back of Chuuya's throat, and /that/ seems like a breaking point for Dazai, because the /next/ kiss is harder, more forceful, backed by frantic energy and desire.
Chuuya's breath feels+
The double sensations make a soft noise rise in the back of Chuuya's throat, and /that/ seems like a breaking point for Dazai, because the /next/ kiss is harder, more forceful, backed by frantic energy and desire.
Chuuya's breath feels+
stolen straight from his lungs,replaced with fire and smoke, whiskey and chocolate. One of his hands slides up, finding the short hairs at the back of Dazai's head, making him shiver, then continuing up, up, until he can thread his fingers through Dazai's hair--god, it's just as+
soft as it /looks-- and /pulling/--
The rumble Dazai lets out sound more like a /growl/ and he's shifting downwards, adjusting the position of their mouths until he can suck Chuuya's bottom lip into his mouth on one, long, /perfect/ movement.
/Shit/.
Chuuya presses closer, +
The rumble Dazai lets out sound more like a /growl/ and he's shifting downwards, adjusting the position of their mouths until he can suck Chuuya's bottom lip into his mouth on one, long, /perfect/ movement.
/Shit/.
Chuuya presses closer, +
eyes rolling back in his head, and Dazai's thigh ends up naturally slotting between his own and--
/Fuck!/
Dazai sucks hard on his lip, tongue running over it, at the same time Chuuya's erection presses against the hard muscle of his thigh, and he shouldn't be this hard already+
/Fuck!/
Dazai sucks hard on his lip, tongue running over it, at the same time Chuuya's erection presses against the hard muscle of his thigh, and he shouldn't be this hard already+
or this needy already, but he is, he /is/.
Dazai sucks on his lip until the throbbing of his mouth matches the throbbing between his legs, and he doesn't even seem to care or notice that Chuuya is subtly grinding against him, because he's too busy sinking his teeth into his lip+
Dazai sucks on his lip until the throbbing of his mouth matches the throbbing between his legs, and he doesn't even seem to care or notice that Chuuya is subtly grinding against him, because he's too busy sinking his teeth into his lip+
with just enough force that it /almost/ hurts, driving him crazy.
Chuuya's panting into his mouth, melted in his hands, mind blank with static and desire. The only thing he can think of is /yes/, yeah, good, /please/--
He pulls back, making a shuddering, wanting noise when+
Chuuya's panting into his mouth, melted in his hands, mind blank with static and desire. The only thing he can think of is /yes/, yeah, good, /please/--
He pulls back, making a shuddering, wanting noise when+
Dazai doesn't immediately let him go, lip stretching until it stings. Dazai makes a soft, disappointed noise in the back of his throat as Chuuya pulls away, like he's taking away his favorite toy, and that's so fucking /cute/--
Then he lets go with a wet pop, and the /next/ +
Then he lets go with a wet pop, and the /next/ +
kiss Chuuya drags him into,he can actually feel his pout.
/How/ is he simultaneously adorable and ridiculously hot? It's not /fair/.
The wind blows then, cutting right through the thin fabric of his shirt and making him shiver, just a little bit. With how close they're pressed+
/How/ is he simultaneously adorable and ridiculously hot? It's not /fair/.
The wind blows then, cutting right through the thin fabric of his shirt and making him shiver, just a little bit. With how close they're pressed+
together, Dazai feels it.
He stands up straighter, pulling his hands away, and Chuuya is whimpering, clutching onto him tightly, he doesn't want it to be over, not /yet/, just a little longer--
But Dazai isn't breaking the kiss, he's just pulling off his jacket. A complicated+
He stands up straighter, pulling his hands away, and Chuuya is whimpering, clutching onto him tightly, he doesn't want it to be over, not /yet/, just a little longer--
But Dazai isn't breaking the kiss, he's just pulling off his jacket. A complicated+
task because he doesn't stop kissing him and Chuuya refuses to let him go too far, but he manages it after a few moments of fumbling.
Warmth covers his back as Dazai drapes the jacket over his shoulders, pulling the lapels tightly over his shoulders. Chuuya shivers, making a+
Warmth covers his back as Dazai drapes the jacket over his shoulders, pulling the lapels tightly over his shoulders. Chuuya shivers, making a+
happy, content sigh that Dazai swallows whole.
With the edges of his jacket in hand, Dazai brings him with as he leans back against the car, pressing them as close together as they can.
Surrounded by Dazai's warmth, large hands on him and keeping him grounded even as he feels+
With the edges of his jacket in hand, Dazai brings him with as he leans back against the car, pressing them as close together as they can.
Surrounded by Dazai's warmth, large hands on him and keeping him grounded even as he feels+
like he's flying away, braced with his strong thighs beneath him, their mouths moving together--
Chuuya feels invincible. Untouchable. Like the whole world could come crashing down around them but as long as Dazai was here, was holding him, he knows he'll be alright.
Like+
Chuuya feels invincible. Untouchable. Like the whole world could come crashing down around them but as long as Dazai was here, was holding him, he knows he'll be alright.
Like+
nothing else matters. Just them, just Dazai, just kissing him until he's breathless.
The reminder of how late it is somehow makes the kiss slow down from something frantic into something more languid and indulgent. Long, slow movements of their mouths, a teasing nip at Chuuya's+
The reminder of how late it is somehow makes the kiss slow down from something frantic into something more languid and indulgent. Long, slow movements of their mouths, a teasing nip at Chuuya's+
lip that he doesn't follow up on.
It's a natural, easy progression to slow and soft and easy, and even though there's still a burning, fiery desperation within him, he doesn't feel neglected and he doesn't like it any less.
In fact, he likes this /just/ as much, being so close+
It's a natural, easy progression to slow and soft and easy, and even though there's still a burning, fiery desperation within him, he doesn't feel neglected and he doesn't like it any less.
In fact, he likes this /just/ as much, being so close+
to him and breathing in his air, just /enjoying/ him.
He doesn't know how long they stand there kissing. At some point, his hands have wound up in Dazai's hair, alternating between tugging on the soft strands, and rubbing his fingers over the soft undercut, smiling whenever he+
He doesn't know how long they stand there kissing. At some point, his hands have wound up in Dazai's hair, alternating between tugging on the soft strands, and rubbing his fingers over the soft undercut, smiling whenever he+
makes Dazai shiver and hum pleasantly against him.
Chuuya's phone beeps, an alarm for ten p.m. that he'd set up for midterms week so he could go to bed on time, and he's reminded that, even though it /feels/ like the whole world has stopped, that doesn't mean it /has/. +
Chuuya's phone beeps, an alarm for ten p.m. that he'd set up for midterms week so he could go to bed on time, and he's reminded that, even though it /feels/ like the whole world has stopped, that doesn't mean it /has/. +
He sighs, responsibilities tugging at the back of his mind. And even though he feels wired right now, with Dazai's hands on him, he knows that he'll crash hard as soon as he takes a moment to stop.
Pulling back to get just enough space to whisper against Dazai's lips, he says,+
Pulling back to get just enough space to whisper against Dazai's lips, he says,+
"I should go."
"Mmm," Dazai hums gently, hands reeling him back in, "probably."
But the way he pulls Chuuya into another kiss, this one even more languid than the last, says he's not ready to let him go just yet.
Chuuya's not complaining, sinking against him and letting him+
"Mmm," Dazai hums gently, hands reeling him back in, "probably."
But the way he pulls Chuuya into another kiss, this one even more languid than the last, says he's not ready to let him go just yet.
Chuuya's not complaining, sinking against him and letting him+
kiss him breathless.
Eventually, the kiss slows to a stop, and they spend just a moment there, enjoying the catch of their lips together and their shared breaths.
Then, with a sigh like Dazai is being tormented, he lets go of Chuuya entirely. "Alright," he mutters, "I'll +
Eventually, the kiss slows to a stop, and they spend just a moment there, enjoying the catch of their lips together and their shared breaths.
Then, with a sigh like Dazai is being tormented, he lets go of Chuuya entirely. "Alright," he mutters, "I'll +
let you go now."
The tiny grumble in his voice, like letting him go is a terrible thing to do, makes Chuuya smile. His lips are tingly.
He takes a step back, moving to take the jacket off so he can hand it back--
"Don't," Dazai says, stopping him in his tracks, hands reaching+
The tiny grumble in his voice, like letting him go is a terrible thing to do, makes Chuuya smile. His lips are tingly.
He takes a step back, moving to take the jacket off so he can hand it back--
"Don't," Dazai says, stopping him in his tracks, hands reaching+
out to carefully adjust the lapels over his shoulders. He brushes his hands down the length of it, subtly dipping his fingers into one of the pockets without Chuuya noticing. “Keep it.”
Chuuya flushes, and he shouldn’t be so worked up about something so small after the make out+
Chuuya flushes, and he shouldn’t be so worked up about something so small after the make out+
session they had, but he is. “Okay. Thanks.”
The smile he gets in return looks so much sweeter, now that he knows what it tastes like. “It was my pleasure, believe me.”
Then there’s nothing left to say, nothing he can use to prolong their contact— besides ‘wanna make out in+
The smile he gets in return looks so much sweeter, now that he knows what it tastes like. “It was my pleasure, believe me.”
Then there’s nothing left to say, nothing he can use to prolong their contact— besides ‘wanna make out in+
your car until I lose my mind?’— so he ducks his head and murmurs, “Good night.”
“Good night, sweetheart.”
The walk away is cold, and he feels like he’s leaving something behind. He looks back twice, and each time Dazai is exactly where he left him, leaning against his car and+
“Good night, sweetheart.”
The walk away is cold, and he feels like he’s leaving something behind. He looks back twice, and each time Dazai is exactly where he left him, leaning against his car and+
watching him go with steady eyes and a lopsided smile.
He’s the one who leaves sight first.
The dorms are quiet when he returns, everyone either passed out from midterms slump or not home at all. He feels like he’s walking on air as he makes his way up to his room, nose buried+
He’s the one who leaves sight first.
The dorms are quiet when he returns, everyone either passed out from midterms slump or not home at all. He feels like he’s walking on air as he makes his way up to his room, nose buried+
in the lapel of Dazai’s coat to breathe in the warm, sharp smell of him, like ice in whiskey, frost on pine needles.
Nikolai isnt home, for which he’s glad because he immediately falls into bed when he comes in, curling up in Dazai’s jacket with a giddy, ecstatic smile.
This+
Nikolai isnt home, for which he’s glad because he immediately falls into bed when he comes in, curling up in Dazai’s jacket with a giddy, ecstatic smile.
This+
was what he was looking for. The butterflies, the happiness, the warmth and light.
All that time he was searching for it with Shuuji, pushing himself harder and harder, but the one who /gave/ it to him was Dazai.
And it was easy, beautifully easy. Simple, no pressure, no+
All that time he was searching for it with Shuuji, pushing himself harder and harder, but the one who /gave/ it to him was Dazai.
And it was easy, beautifully easy. Simple, no pressure, no+
expectations, no reason to be scared or uncomfortable.
It just... was.
When Chuuya moves, something crinkles in the jacket pocket.
Curious, he digs into the pocket— if Dazai didn’t want him to look or find something, he wouldn’t have let him keep the jacket— and pulls out+
It just... was.
When Chuuya moves, something crinkles in the jacket pocket.
Curious, he digs into the pocket— if Dazai didn’t want him to look or find something, he wouldn’t have let him keep the jacket— and pulls out+
a crinkled piece of paper, folded up haphazardly.
He unfolds it, only to find a number printed on with with Dazai’s name scrawled messily underneath.
When did he have time to write this? When did he have time to slip it into the pocket? While they were kissing?
Either way,+
He unfolds it, only to find a number printed on with with Dazai’s name scrawled messily underneath.
When did he have time to write this? When did he have time to slip it into the pocket? While they were kissing?
Either way,+
he has his /number/ now. And even that was easier than ever, because he didn’t have to /ask/ or was locked in a car until he shared his own. He didn’t share his own number, which means—
The ball is in his court. He can text Dazai or not, and it’s completely up to him.
Whipping+
The ball is in his court. He can text Dazai or not, and it’s completely up to him.
Whipping+
out his phone, he navigates to his contacts. He’s not going to call right /now/, but he doesn’t want to risk losing this tiny, precious piece of paper.
Once he inputs the number, he comes across the next problem: contact name.
He can’t exactly put it as ‘Dazai Osamu’ because+
Once he inputs the number, he comes across the next problem: contact name.
He can’t exactly put it as ‘Dazai Osamu’ because+
he doesn’t want anyone to accidentally find out that he’s texting Dazai. He’s not /hiding/ him, he’s just...
Waiting for a better time to tell everyone.
He doesn’t want to put a random name, because that’ll be confusing—
His eyes snag on the last contact dialed: ‘Dad’. +
Waiting for a better time to tell everyone.
He doesn’t want to put a random name, because that’ll be confusing—
His eyes snag on the last contact dialed: ‘Dad’. +
And, well—
It’s simple, easy to explain and he’s seen it before on movies so—
Why the hell not?
[ CONTACT SAVED: Daddy 💕🥰 ]
His face /is/ on fire, but it’s not like Dazai will ever see it, so it’s okay. He’s just being /sneaky/.
He throws the paper away, ripping it+
It’s simple, easy to explain and he’s seen it before on movies so—
Why the hell not?
[ CONTACT SAVED: Daddy 💕🥰 ]
His face /is/ on fire, but it’s not like Dazai will ever see it, so it’s okay. He’s just being /sneaky/.
He throws the paper away, ripping it+
into pieces so it’s impossible to read.
Settling back into bed, he decides to check his social media’s before getting ready for sleep.
This is a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.
Because as he’s scrolling through Snapchat stories, clicking through the boring ones, he+
Settling back into bed, he decides to check his social media’s before getting ready for sleep.
This is a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.
Because as he’s scrolling through Snapchat stories, clicking through the boring ones, he+
stumbles upon Yuan’s story. She went to the party he was going to, so he checks it out out of morbid curiosity, wondering exactly what he missed.
No way would he ever wish that he went to the party instead of dinner with Dazai, but a masochistic part of him wants to /know/.
+
No way would he ever wish that he went to the party instead of dinner with Dazai, but a masochistic part of him wants to /know/.
+
Truthfully, it looks a little boring, with the typical crowd of teenagers yelling and drinking together. Most of the fun there is in the alcohol, and Chuuya does like parties, but he’s glad he didn’t go.
Then, he sees it, in the back, clearly not meant to be photographed:
+
Then, he sees it, in the back, clearly not meant to be photographed:
+
Shuuji, in a back corner, with his hands in a girls hair and their lips pressed together.
Oh.
Oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that broken up about it. Yeah, it kind of sucks that Shuuji stood him up to make out with a girl, and there is a part of him that’s hurt by that but— +
Oh.
Oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that broken up about it. Yeah, it kind of sucks that Shuuji stood him up to make out with a girl, and there is a part of him that’s hurt by that but— +
A larger part of him is still floating somewhere in the atmosphere, made light by the remembrance of being with Dazai.
Yeah, It sucks, but you know what?
Chuuya thinks he came out on the better side of this deal.
And at least he doesn’t have a reason to feel bad for +
Yeah, It sucks, but you know what?
Chuuya thinks he came out on the better side of this deal.
And at least he doesn’t have a reason to feel bad for +
kissing his dad, right?
Now they’re even. Well, sort of—
Chuuya still wins.
And maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t have a reason to feel bad about going /further/ with Dazai.
Because now that he’s got a taste?
He’s /addicted/.
——— +
Now they’re even. Well, sort of—
Chuuya still wins.
And maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t have a reason to feel bad about going /further/ with Dazai.
Because now that he’s got a taste?
He’s /addicted/.
——— +
The problem, Chuuya decides, is that he doesn't know what to say. If it were somebody his age, he'd probably start with a simple emoji or a meme, or something else equally simple and relatable.
But Dazai /isn't/ his age, and somehow that makes the idea of sending the man a +
But Dazai /isn't/ his age, and somehow that makes the idea of sending the man a +
peach emoji or a twitter link feels...wrong. Like he's breaking some sort of unspoken rule.
Of course, he could start off with a simple 'hey it's Chuuya' which isn't /bad/, it's just lackluster. He should probably mention the date, but /how/?
'Hey, it's Chuuya, I had a really +
Of course, he could start off with a simple 'hey it's Chuuya' which isn't /bad/, it's just lackluster. He should probably mention the date, but /how/?
'Hey, it's Chuuya, I had a really +
good time at dinner and then grinding against your leg after, wanna do it again sometime'? 'Hey, it's Chuuya, it was nice getting up close and personal with you tongue'?
('Hey, it's Chuuya, please kiss me again.')
Everything he comes up with is either too casual, too awkward +
('Hey, it's Chuuya, please kiss me again.')
Everything he comes up with is either too casual, too awkward +
too immature, or only funny in his half-hysterical mind.
He doesn't want to be awkward or immature. He wants to be what /Dazai/ wants, and a messed up text feels like the end of the world right now. Like he has to say the exact right thing or he'll mess up his chance.
'Hi +
He doesn't want to be awkward or immature. He wants to be what /Dazai/ wants, and a messed up text feels like the end of the world right now. Like he has to say the exact right thing or he'll mess up his chance.
'Hi +
Dazai, I miss you’? Too forward.
‘Dear Dazai’. What is he writing, a letter in the 18th century? /No/.
‘Hi daddy 🥺’. Absolutely fucking not.
It’s just so /frustrating/ and hard, even though it feels like it shouldn’t be, and he went on a /date/— did he really though? Dazai+
‘Dear Dazai’. What is he writing, a letter in the 18th century? /No/.
‘Hi daddy 🥺’. Absolutely fucking not.
It’s just so /frustrating/ and hard, even though it feels like it shouldn’t be, and he went on a /date/— did he really though? Dazai+
said it /could/ be a date, not that it inherently was and Chuuya never verbally expressed a preference either way— with the man, so why is just texting him so /hard/?
(Don’t even get him started on the idea of calling him. Is the idea appealing? Yes. Does he miss the sound of+
(Don’t even get him started on the idea of calling him. Is the idea appealing? Yes. Does he miss the sound of+
his voice? Sure. Is he dying to hear what Dazai sounds like on the phone? Maybe a little bit.
Does he have /any/ idea about what to say? No.
Will hé hang up out of sheer nerves before he can say anything and then never be able to call him again? Maybe.)
The point is, he +
Does he have /any/ idea about what to say? No.
Will hé hang up out of sheer nerves before he can say anything and then never be able to call him again? Maybe.)
The point is, he +
goes round and round with worse and worse options, and he’s about to /scream/ because it’s the afternoon of the second day after and he’s /losing his chance/—
When it occurs to him.
He still has Dazai’s coat /and/ his shirt. And he might not be good at /talking/— a first— but+
When it occurs to him.
He still has Dazai’s coat /and/ his shirt. And he might not be good at /talking/— a first— but+
he /is/ good at looking pretty.
And who doesn’t like a good selfie? Dazai will need one for his contact picture anyways, he’s just thinking /ahead/. Being proactive.
He takes over an hour to make sure his makeup is done well, and his hair looks manageable.
Then he goes+
And who doesn’t like a good selfie? Dazai will need one for his contact picture anyways, he’s just thinking /ahead/. Being proactive.
He takes over an hour to make sure his makeup is done well, and his hair looks manageable.
Then he goes+
about taking pictures, which includes shifting the lighting, trying out different poses, jacket on, jacket off—
Eventually his eye makeup turns out to be irrelevant, because he settles on a picture that starts just below his nose, highlighting his small smile, the way the+
Eventually his eye makeup turns out to be irrelevant, because he settles on a picture that starts just below his nose, highlighting his small smile, the way the+
shirt slips off his collarbone /just/ so, the sleeves of the jacket riding low on his arms, just high enough to be seen. He’s utilitized the sun, and the spill of sunlight turns his hair to fiery gold.
It’s subtle, a little teasing, not /too/ much/—
He sends it off, pairing +
It’s subtle, a little teasing, not /too/ much/—
He sends it off, pairing +
it with a “your clothes are way too big for me, I’ll have to return them soon”—
And immediately regrets it, throwing his phone to the end of the bed as hot embarrassment fills him. He presses his face into the pillow, fighting off the urge to scream.
It was too much. It was+
And immediately regrets it, throwing his phone to the end of the bed as hot embarrassment fills him. He presses his face into the pillow, fighting off the urge to scream.
It was too much. It was+
/way/ too much and he didn’t even say his /name/, he just sent him some half-finished selfie like a /weirdo/.He should’ve done something /else/ instead of letting himself get carried away by the idea of looking good for him, this is all going so terribly wrong—
His phone beeps.+
His phone beeps.+
He drags the pillow down from his face, peering down at his phone like it might bite him.
Okay, that’s /probably/ him. Everyone else who would be texting him is studying or eating right now.
If it /is/ someone else, he’s gonna kill them, because his heart is pounding in his+
Okay, that’s /probably/ him. Everyone else who would be texting him is studying or eating right now.
If it /is/ someone else, he’s gonna kill them, because his heart is pounding in his+
throat and he feels like he swallows the sun, buzzing with heat and energy.
Fingers creeping down the bed, he decides just to /check/, flipping it over so he can see the screen—
/It’s him/.
Oh god, okay, it’s happening, they’re /talking/, maybe this isn’t so /hard/. +
Fingers creeping down the bed, he decides just to /check/, flipping it over so he can see the screen—
/It’s him/.
Oh god, okay, it’s happening, they’re /talking/, maybe this isn’t so /hard/. +
He types the code in slowly, fighting to stay in bed when he feels like he needs to jump up, go for a run, do /anything/ to dispel all this energy inside him—
[ Daddy 💕🥰 ]: I think they look better on you, though.
!!!!!!!!
Chuuya is smiling so big his face hurts, and he’s+
[ Daddy 💕🥰 ]: I think they look better on you, though.
!!!!!!!!
Chuuya is smiling so big his face hurts, and he’s+
once again glad that Nikolai is at work--he works /so/ much, it seems like he's barely even here, it's almost like Chuuya has the dorm to himself-- because he doesn't want to explain why he's blushing and smothering his giddy grin into a too-big jacket.
[ Daddy 💕🥰]: Hello, by+
[ Daddy 💕🥰]: Hello, by+
the way.
Ah, fuck it. Texting isn't fast enough, isn't /good/ enough, isn't present enough--
With a bravery fuelled by the excitement of finally getting to /talk/ to Dazai again, he presses the call button.
The phone rings once, twice. Anticipation builds to the breaking+
Ah, fuck it. Texting isn't fast enough, isn't /good/ enough, isn't present enough--
With a bravery fuelled by the excitement of finally getting to /talk/ to Dazai again, he presses the call button.
The phone rings once, twice. Anticipation builds to the breaking+
point, pulling Chuuya's chest tight.
/Finally/, midway through the third ring,the phone clicks. There's a brief sound of wind rushing, like Dazai is outside, before the sound quiets down.
Then, a little rough and lower than normal on the phone, faintly amused: "Hello, Chuuya."+
/Finally/, midway through the third ring,the phone clicks. There's a brief sound of wind rushing, like Dazai is outside, before the sound quiets down.
Then, a little rough and lower than normal on the phone, faintly amused: "Hello, Chuuya."+
Maybe Chuuya’s breathy “Hi” is a little too obviously excited, but the warm chuckle he gets in response makes every ounce of embarrassment worth it.
“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”
Chuuya wrinkles his nose at the phone at the reminder. He mentioned it /once/, briefly, +
“Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”
Chuuya wrinkles his nose at the phone at the reminder. He mentioned it /once/, briefly, +
during the first car ride,that he usually uses Sundays as a revision day to go over all information he needs to practice.He never expected Dazai to reminder that tiny,useless detail, but the fact that he /did/...
If he gets any warmer, he might just burst into flashed entirely.+
If he gets any warmer, he might just burst into flashed entirely.+
“I have been—,” it’s true, he’s been oscillating between panicking over what to say to Dazai and frantically distracting himself with math all morning, “— I’m just taking a break right now.”
Dazai hums, and behind that, Chuuya can hear the rustle of clothing and the vague click+
Dazai hums, and behind that, Chuuya can hear the rustle of clothing and the vague click+
of something metallic. “And your reward to yourself for being good was to call me?”
It’s not like Chuuya /forgets/ Dazai’s affect on him, he just never gets used to it. Everytime they talk, it’s like Dazai gets /better/ at playing him, like all the memories of feelings join +
It’s not like Chuuya /forgets/ Dazai’s affect on him, he just never gets used to it. Everytime they talk, it’s like Dazai gets /better/ at playing him, like all the memories of feelings join +
what he feels /now/, compounding into a swirling, heady mess that pushes him higher. Makes him feel better, makes him crave /more/.
And when Dazai puts it /that/ way, like Chuuya is being good so he deserves a /reward/—
He wants one. Badly.
He makes a vague assenting+
And when Dazai puts it /that/ way, like Chuuya is being good so he deserves a /reward/—
He wants one. Badly.
He makes a vague assenting+
noise before the continued noises on the other side gather his curiosity. “What are you doing?”
“I—,” Dazai grunts a little, clearly straining against something, “am doing research for a case I’m working on.”
(It’s a vague truth, but the truth. He’s actually been lying on his+
“I—,” Dazai grunts a little, clearly straining against something, “am doing research for a case I’m working on.”
(It’s a vague truth, but the truth. He’s actually been lying on his+
belly on top of a roof with his eye to the scope of his rifle, watching crates get loaded into the Rats new warehouse. They’re unmarked and no one is stupid enough to open one outside, so he doesn’t know what’s in them.
Yet.
But beyond setting up a few cameras and listening+
Yet.
But beyond setting up a few cameras and listening+
devices, there’s nothing more to be done today.
And if Chuuya has been good, and /he’s/ been good...
They deserve a reward, don’t they?
So, as he continues breaking down the rifle and stores it in the modified case for it:)
“Have you eaten yet?” +
And if Chuuya has been good, and /he’s/ been good...
They deserve a reward, don’t they?
So, as he continues breaking down the rifle and stores it in the modified case for it:)
“Have you eaten yet?” +
Chuuya has a choice here:
He can reveal that he stress ate nearly half a dozen melon pan a little over an hour ago, and he’s not hungry anymore.
Or, he can see where Dazai is going with this, where he /hopes/ he’s going with this.
“Nope! I was just about to get lunch+
He can reveal that he stress ate nearly half a dozen melon pan a little over an hour ago, and he’s not hungry anymore.
Or, he can see where Dazai is going with this, where he /hopes/ he’s going with this.
“Nope! I was just about to get lunch+
in a little bit. Why?”
“I’m getting /hungry/—“ the way Dazai says that particularly word, voice dropping, makes Chuuya shiver “— so would you like to go to lunch with me? My treat.”
Chuuya agrees so quickly he nearly cuts Dazai off before he’s speaking. His face is red again—+
“I’m getting /hungry/—“ the way Dazai says that particularly word, voice dropping, makes Chuuya shiver “— so would you like to go to lunch with me? My treat.”
Chuuya agrees so quickly he nearly cuts Dazai off before he’s speaking. His face is red again—+
or maybe it never /stopped/ being red— but he can’t tell if that’s because he’s embarrassed, or because of the way Dazai is laughing again, husky and warm.
Even over the phone, it feels like music to his ears, electricity down his spine. He likes when he laughs.
“Wonderful. +
Even over the phone, it feels like music to his ears, electricity down his spine. He likes when he laughs.
“Wonderful. +
I can be there in an hour?”
Chuuya nods,almost forgetting that Dazai can’t see him right now.That gives him enough time to try on a few outfits before forcing himself to settle on one,experience a little pre-date nerves and obsessively touch up his makeup. “That’s good for me.”+
Chuuya nods,almost forgetting that Dazai can’t see him right now.That gives him enough time to try on a few outfits before forcing himself to settle on one,experience a little pre-date nerves and obsessively touch up his makeup. “That’s good for me.”+
(That also gives Dazai enough time to take his guns home and swap outfits. And enough time to decide if he wants to pick him up in his car— the dazed look he got on his face when he had his hand on his thigh was /deliciously/ adorable—
Or the bike, where he can feel every inch+
Or the bike, where he can feel every inch+
of them pressed together.
Of course, he’d have to stop to get him a helmet, and probably a leather jacket too. Safety first, kids.
Maybe he could convince him to ride in front this time. He’s small enough and the bike is big enough that Dazai could manage it.
He’d be lying+
Of course, he’d have to stop to get him a helmet, and probably a leather jacket too. Safety first, kids.
Maybe he could convince him to ride in front this time. He’s small enough and the bike is big enough that Dazai could manage it.
He’d be lying+
if he said he wasn’t interested to see what his reaction would be when he felt Dazai behind him, over him, all around him.
He’s so sweetly, eagerly responsive— Dazai /did/ notice that cute little grinding against his thigh after a tiny bit of kissing— and it really just makes+
He’s so sweetly, eagerly responsive— Dazai /did/ notice that cute little grinding against his thigh after a tiny bit of kissing— and it really just makes+
him wonder what Chuuya will be like once Dazai /really/ gets his hands on him.
When he’s /really/ touching him.
He’s glad he’s a patient man, otherwise it would be difficult to keep his hands to himself, to build him up into it.)
“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”
The way Dazai+
When he’s /really/ touching him.
He’s glad he’s a patient man, otherwise it would be difficult to keep his hands to himself, to build him up into it.)
“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”
The way Dazai+
hésitâtes for a moment before hanging up implies he doesn’t want to stop talking yet, which sends another round of butterflies through Chuuya’s stomach.
It’s the little things that make Chuuya so /wanted/.
The phone goes dead though after he murmurs his own goodbye, and he+
It’s the little things that make Chuuya so /wanted/.
The phone goes dead though after he murmurs his own goodbye, and he+
holds it to his ear for a long moment, just drinking in the silence and grinning like an idiot.
Then it’s time to get /ready/.
He does end up changing his outfit a few times before ending up on a pair of ripped skinny jeans that show hints of skin at his thighs and shins. For+
Then it’s time to get /ready/.
He does end up changing his outfit a few times before ending up on a pair of ripped skinny jeans that show hints of skin at his thighs and shins. For+
shoes, he goes with the same boots Yuan lent him— he hasn’t talked to Yuan or Shuuji since the party, and he doesn’t know if that’s because they’re busy or if they /know/, but either way, he still has the boots.
Cropped shirt to show a little skin (his goal here is to tempt +
Cropped shirt to show a little skin (his goal here is to tempt +
Dazai as much as possible. He wants to be kissed again. Wants to be kissed a /lot/. Maybe even more than kissed—) and his red jacket, and the outfit is complete.
By the time he’s done fussing with his makeup— and it makes him feel /so/ nice that Dazai doesn’t even blink when+
By the time he’s done fussing with his makeup— and it makes him feel /so/ nice that Dazai doesn’t even blink when+
he wears more obvious makeup. Shuuji looked at him a bit funny the first time, and even though he never /said/ anything, he always gave the impression that he thought it was a bit strange. Like he didn’t understand it— it’s almost been an hour.
He can’t sit in his dorm for the+
He can’t sit in his dorm for the+
remaining 15 minutes, so he heads downstairs to wait where Dazai dropped him off the first time. He can sit on the bench and just wait until he shows up, and it’s okay if he’s a little bit late, he doesn’t mind—
Except when he gets down there, Dazai is already there, waiting. +
Except when he gets down there, Dazai is already there, waiting. +
He’s leaning against his motorcycle,phone in one hand as he waits patiently. It looks like he was just going to wait the fifteen minutes until the hour was up without a single complaint.
Hanging off one of the handlebars by the chinstrap is the helmet Chuuya wore the first time+
Hanging off one of the handlebars by the chinstrap is the helmet Chuuya wore the first time+
he rode the bike with him.
In his other hand, propped against his hip is another helmet. This one smaller, shiny with how new it is and it’s not /exactly/ the same as Dazai’s customized helmet, it is the same color and the same shape.
/Matching/.
Dazai himself looks good,+
In his other hand, propped against his hip is another helmet. This one smaller, shiny with how new it is and it’s not /exactly/ the same as Dazai’s customized helmet, it is the same color and the same shape.
/Matching/.
Dazai himself looks good,+
shoulders impossibly broad in a leather jacket. Black jeans that hug his thighs and /god/, those knee high boots are back, ones that make Dazai look like he could crack skulls in.
Even from here, Chuuya can see the glint of rings on his fingers.
He approaches, trying to be as+
Even from here, Chuuya can see the glint of rings on his fingers.
He approaches, trying to be as+
casual as possible even though he can hardly breathe and he’s almost certain he’s got hearts in his eyes.
“Hey,” he calls when he gets a little bit closer, heart tripping in his chest as the way Dazai immediately looks up, eyes warm.
He shuts his phone on and slips it into his+
“Hey,” he calls when he gets a little bit closer, heart tripping in his chest as the way Dazai immediately looks up, eyes warm.
He shuts his phone on and slips it into his+
pocket, instantly giving Chuuya all of his attention. “Hello, doll. You look beautiful today.”
He says it so /easy/, like it’s not even a compliment, it’s just the truth, and god, it fills Chuuya with fire everytime. It’s not /fair/, so easily he can send his heart racing.+
He says it so /easy/, like it’s not even a compliment, it’s just the truth, and god, it fills Chuuya with fire everytime. It’s not /fair/, so easily he can send his heart racing.+
Still, he can’t help the big smile, the way his head ducks a little, embarrassed. “Thank you,” he mutters, then, “I like your jacket.”
That’s a lie. He loves the jacket. Wishes he could see him without the shirt and /just/ the jacket. Wishes he could get his hands on him /in/ +
That’s a lie. He loves the jacket. Wishes he could see him without the shirt and /just/ the jacket. Wishes he could get his hands on him /in/ +
the jacket.
The smirk Dazai gives him is /wicked/. “Thank you.”
Swallowing hard, Chuuya changes the subject because he’s pretty sure they’re never going to /leave/ the parking lot if Dazai doesn’t stop staring at him like that. “So— the bike today?”
“Yup,” Dazai says, +
The smirk Dazai gives him is /wicked/. “Thank you.”
Swallowing hard, Chuuya changes the subject because he’s pretty sure they’re never going to /leave/ the parking lot if Dazai doesn’t stop staring at him like that. “So— the bike today?”
“Yup,” Dazai says, +
lifting the second helmet to show it to him, “got you something.”
Money isn’t a worry for Dazai but still just the idea that he went out and bought Chuuya his /own/ helmet makes him feel like he’s losing his mind in the best way. It implies that Dazai wants more than just /two/+
Money isn’t a worry for Dazai but still just the idea that he went out and bought Chuuya his /own/ helmet makes him feel like he’s losing his mind in the best way. It implies that Dazai wants more than just /two/+
dates out of him.
They haven’t talked about /this/ and Chuuya is nervous to bring it up himself, but he likes the way things are going so far.
He reaches for the helmet, but Dazai holds it out of his reach teasingly.
With a grin that Chuuya can feel in his /stomach/, Dazai+
They haven’t talked about /this/ and Chuuya is nervous to bring it up himself, but he likes the way things are going so far.
He reaches for the helmet, but Dazai holds it out of his reach teasingly.
With a grin that Chuuya can feel in his /stomach/, Dazai+
curls his finger at him, coaxing him closer.
He takes one step. Two.
Three, and he’s standing firmly between Dazai’s legs, just like the other night, and he’s staring up at him with huge eyes, heart racing and blood turning molten at just the reminder.
He wants to be kissed.+
He takes one step. Two.
Three, and he’s standing firmly between Dazai’s legs, just like the other night, and he’s staring up at him with huge eyes, heart racing and blood turning molten at just the reminder.
He wants to be kissed.+
Silently begs him, one hand falling to Dazai’s thigh.
/Please kiss me, kiss me, ask me, please—/
But Dazai just gently brushes his bangs out of his face, and carefully lowers the helmet onto his head.
The world goes oppressively silent for a second before the padding pops+
/Please kiss me, kiss me, ask me, please—/
But Dazai just gently brushes his bangs out of his face, and carefully lowers the helmet onto his head.
The world goes oppressively silent for a second before the padding pops+
over his ears and he can hear again.
Then he’s force to stare at Dazai through the darkened screen of his visor as he adjusts all the straps and carefully locks the helmet in place.
“Feels good?” He asks, rapping his knuckles lightly on the side. The sound is muffled by the+
Then he’s force to stare at Dazai through the darkened screen of his visor as he adjusts all the straps and carefully locks the helmet in place.
“Feels good?” He asks, rapping his knuckles lightly on the side. The sound is muffled by the+
helmet, but only just.
He nods. This helmet isn’t as heavy, and it’s not loose. The strap digs lightly into his chin, but that seems normal.
“No bobble head this time,” Dazai teases, taking his own helmet in hand. He’s not nearly as careful when he shoves it onto his own+
He nods. This helmet isn’t as heavy, and it’s not loose. The strap digs lightly into his chin, but that seems normal.
“No bobble head this time,” Dazai teases, taking his own helmet in hand. He’s not nearly as careful when he shoves it onto his own+
head.
Chuuya’s glare is softened by the fact that Dazai probably can’t see it through the glass. His affronted sniff is /not/ muffled, and draws a short laugh from Dazai.
He goes to climb onto the back like last time, preparing to swing his leg over when Dazai stops him with+
Chuuya’s glare is softened by the fact that Dazai probably can’t see it through the glass. His affronted sniff is /not/ muffled, and draws a short laugh from Dazai.
He goes to climb onto the back like last time, preparing to swing his leg over when Dazai stops him with+
gentle fingers on his elbow.
“I want to try something,” he says slowly, like he’s unsure of how Chuuya will react. “Do you trust me?”
And—
He does. Maybe he shouldn’t. He doesn’t know him well, and only for a few weeks, and there’s so much they have yet to learn about+
“I want to try something,” he says slowly, like he’s unsure of how Chuuya will react. “Do you trust me?”
And—
He does. Maybe he shouldn’t. He doesn’t know him well, and only for a few weeks, and there’s so much they have yet to learn about+
eachother.
Maybe Dazai is a criminal. Maybe he’s crazy. Maybe he’s dangerous.
But you know—
Chuuya does trust him. He nods carefully, unsure of what he wants, but willing to give it a try.
Giving him a dazzling grin, Dazai moves sideways, giving him full access to the +
Maybe Dazai is a criminal. Maybe he’s crazy. Maybe he’s dangerous.
But you know—
Chuuya does trust him. He nods carefully, unsure of what he wants, but willing to give it a try.
Giving him a dazzling grin, Dazai moves sideways, giving him full access to the +
bike. “Do you want to try riding in the front?”
Chuuya looks at the bike hesitantly. He’s never seen that before. He didn’t even know that was an option. It’s probably dangerous, but he remembers how safe it felt with Dazai, even going as fast as he was—
Yeah, he wants to try.+
Chuuya looks at the bike hesitantly. He’s never seen that before. He didn’t even know that was an option. It’s probably dangerous, but he remembers how safe it felt with Dazai, even going as fast as he was—
Yeah, he wants to try.+
“How?” He says, loud enough to be heard through the visor.
Dazai winces. “You don’t have to shout,” he says, and his voice sounds closer than it should, like it’s inside the helmet with him. “The helmets are Bluetooth.”
Oh. Well, that’s awkward. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” Dazai+
Dazai winces. “You don’t have to shout,” he says, and his voice sounds closer than it should, like it’s inside the helmet with him. “The helmets are Bluetooth.”
Oh. Well, that’s awkward. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” Dazai+
murmurs, pushing the kickstand back into place with his boot. “You didn’t know. Now get on.”
Chuuya does, with only a little bit of struggling because Dazai has the bike braced sideways on his thigh, lowering the seat so Chuuya can swing his leg over it.
It takes him a bit of+
Chuuya does, with only a little bit of struggling because Dazai has the bike braced sideways on his thigh, lowering the seat so Chuuya can swing his leg over it.
It takes him a bit of+
wiggling to get settled, but he does it.
Dazai holds the bike up with one arm—because Chuuya is too short to do it himself, feet dangling— and bends down to take his ankle in hand again.
It feels even /better/ this time, more charged, because he knows what those fingers+
Dazai holds the bike up with one arm—because Chuuya is too short to do it himself, feet dangling— and bends down to take his ankle in hand again.
It feels even /better/ this time, more charged, because he knows what those fingers+
feel like on his hair, along his spine, on his thigh. He knows how capable they are of making him melt, playing along his nerves like a master.
Dazai guides his foot into a higher notch, knees closer to his chest than before. “Don’t move,” he says, and it feels like he’s +
Dazai guides his foot into a higher notch, knees closer to his chest than before. “Don’t move,” he says, and it feels like he’s +
whispering directly into his ear, making him shiver. “Not even a little bit. The gas pedal is right behind your foot, understand?”
It’s a subtle order, but one he understands and he’ll follow it.
His other foot gets the same treatment once Dazai comes around the front of the+
It’s a subtle order, but one he understands and he’ll follow it.
His other foot gets the same treatment once Dazai comes around the front of the+
front.
“Ready?”
Chuuya nods, clutching the metal between the handlebars, digging his toes in for dear life.
Then, as Dazai swings his leg over and settles right behind him, Chuuya realizes:
He did not think this through at /all/. +
“Ready?”
Chuuya nods, clutching the metal between the handlebars, digging his toes in for dear life.
Then, as Dazai swings his leg over and settles right behind him, Chuuya realizes:
He did not think this through at /all/. +
Not only does the bike wobble in place, making him grip tight with his hands and calves—
But this wasn’t /built/ to be a two-seater back, so that means Dazai’s hips end up sliding /close/, pressed right up against his ass, as close as they can get and—
Chuuya has seen the +
But this wasn’t /built/ to be a two-seater back, so that means Dazai’s hips end up sliding /close/, pressed right up against his ass, as close as they can get and—
Chuuya has seen the +
bulge, alright, he wasn’t going to miss his chance when Dazai was walking around in grey sweatpants. He looked as often as he could without it being considered sexual harassment, he’s admitting it.
But that’s /quite/ different than feeling it /pressed up against him/.
God. +
But that’s /quite/ different than feeling it /pressed up against him/.
God. +
There’s a /definite/ bulge there, even though Dazai isn’t even hard. Warm, with the sharpness of his hips on either side that Chuuya is /dying/ to get his hands on. It presses /right/ up against him, and Chuuya’s jeans are so tight he swear he can feel the outline of it.
/Big/,+
/Big/,+
god it’s big. Bigger than himself— Chuuya is a bit above average, thank you very much— maybe even to big to get his fingers around.
It makes sense, since Dazai is quite a bit taller than him, but it still feels like he ran into a wall and now his brain is struggling to reboot.+
It makes sense, since Dazai is quite a bit taller than him, but it still feels like he ran into a wall and now his brain is struggling to reboot.+
He’s biting his lip, hard, and holding his breath because he is /this/ close from letting out a whimper, or worse, a /moan/—
Suddenly, he’s hungry. Starving. And not for food.
Then it gets even worse.
Dazai leans forward a bit, hands finding the handlebars up front, arms +
Suddenly, he’s hungry. Starving. And not for food.
Then it gets even worse.
Dazai leans forward a bit, hands finding the handlebars up front, arms +
caging him in, biceps /huge/, forearms flexing as he grips the bars.
Then his foot is coming up, toes finding the gearshift, and that presses the front of his thigh all along the back of Chuuya’s. He’s scorching hot, throbbing with life, /almost/ as close as Chuuya wants him to+
Then his foot is coming up, toes finding the gearshift, and that presses the front of his thigh all along the back of Chuuya’s. He’s scorching hot, throbbing with life, /almost/ as close as Chuuya wants him to+
be—
With their position, Dazai still has to lean forward some, plastering himself to his back. His chin comes to rest somewhere around Chuuya’s ear, and he can just hear the sound of Dazai’s deep, rhythmic breathing.
This can’t be safe, Chuuya thinks woozily, because he’s +
With their position, Dazai still has to lean forward some, plastering himself to his back. His chin comes to rest somewhere around Chuuya’s ear, and he can just hear the sound of Dazai’s deep, rhythmic breathing.
This can’t be safe, Chuuya thinks woozily, because he’s +
gonna faint. Or burst into flames.
Or maybe just straight up /die/.
Dazai envelops him effortlessly, and usually Chuuya doesn’t like feeling /small/, but holy fuck, the idea that Dazai can wrap him up entirely in one arm, that he can pick him up and manhandle him so easily— +
Or maybe just straight up /die/.
Dazai envelops him effortlessly, and usually Chuuya doesn’t like feeling /small/, but holy fuck, the idea that Dazai can wrap him up entirely in one arm, that he can pick him up and manhandle him so easily— +
“Ready?”
Chuuya squeaks in surprise, embarrassingly, and nods hastily, trying to cover it up.
And wouldn’t you know—
It gets /worse/.
The bike roars to life, and Dazai’s other leg comes up as they push off and now the bike is /vibrating/ beneath them, between his legs, +
Chuuya squeaks in surprise, embarrassingly, and nods hastily, trying to cover it up.
And wouldn’t you know—
It gets /worse/.
The bike roars to life, and Dazai’s other leg comes up as they push off and now the bike is /vibrating/ beneath them, between his legs, +
adding an interesting mix of sensations and god, everytime he squirms from it, his hips are rubbing /back/ against Dazai— who is /immovable, by the way— or forward against the vibrating gas tank, and he is losing his /mind/.
Caught between a hard place and a vibrator, he thinks+
Caught between a hard place and a vibrator, he thinks+
hysterically, fighting to keep calm.
“Are you alright? We can stop, if you’d like.”
No, do /not/ stop, keep going—
“I’m okay,” he clears his throat, playing it off, “just... a little strange to get used to.”
It is strange, because now he doesn’t have anything to hang onto+
“Are you alright? We can stop, if you’d like.”
No, do /not/ stop, keep going—
“I’m okay,” he clears his throat, playing it off, “just... a little strange to get used to.”
It is strange, because now he doesn’t have anything to hang onto+
besides the gas tank, which, understandably, does not make a very good handle. He does want to touch the bars, just in case.
It still feels secure because Dazai’s arms are on either side, keeping him firmly in place even as they begin to lean with the turns, but it feels +
It still feels secure because Dazai’s arms are on either side, keeping him firmly in place even as they begin to lean with the turns, but it feels +
more... free.
Wilder.
Dazai steady behind him, the road in front of him, the wind rushing by his helmet. Heat and flying and the rush of recklessness.
He feels like he’s free falling, the pit of his stomach dropping out every time they lean around a turn, or when Dazai’s +
Wilder.
Dazai steady behind him, the road in front of him, the wind rushing by his helmet. Heat and flying and the rush of recklessness.
He feels like he’s free falling, the pit of his stomach dropping out every time they lean around a turn, or when Dazai’s +
hips press against him harder.
(He doesn’t know it, but Dazai is /grinning/ behind him, because the chibi is struggling /so/ hard and it’s adorably hilarious to watch.)
When he finally gets over the giddy feeling, he realizes he doesn’t recognize the streets they’re on. “Where+
(He doesn’t know it, but Dazai is /grinning/ behind him, because the chibi is struggling /so/ hard and it’s adorably hilarious to watch.)
When he finally gets over the giddy feeling, he realizes he doesn’t recognize the streets they’re on. “Where+
are we going?”
Dazai takes a turn faster than the others, bike leaning lower. Chuuya makes a high-pitched sound of adrenaline and excitement, clutching the metal in front of him.
(Dazai notes with satisfaction that he doesn’t sound afraid, even though he’s pushing his limits.)+
Dazai takes a turn faster than the others, bike leaning lower. Chuuya makes a high-pitched sound of adrenaline and excitement, clutching the metal in front of him.
(Dazai notes with satisfaction that he doesn’t sound afraid, even though he’s pushing his limits.)+
When they straighten back out, speeding through a light fast enough that the other cars are blurs, Dazai answers, “Arcade shopping street.”
Chuuya doesn’t even care that he sounds faintly amused, because excitement is pouring through him at the idea of going to that street +
Chuuya doesn’t even care that he sounds faintly amused, because excitement is pouring through him at the idea of going to that street +
market. It’s too far to go to by train unless he was willing to take the whole day, and probably too expensive for him,with all the food vendors and shops lining the market.
It’s not what he imagined for lunch, but personally, he likes this idea even /better/ than a restaurant.+
It’s not what he imagined for lunch, but personally, he likes this idea even /better/ than a restaurant.+
He likes walking around and looking at things, likes exploring, likes street food.
Really, this is the perfect lunch date for him. He’s amazed Dazai thought of it, and the fact that they’re apparently so compatible that he doesn’t even have to tell Dazai what he /likes/—
+
Really, this is the perfect lunch date for him. He’s amazed Dazai thought of it, and the fact that they’re apparently so compatible that he doesn’t even have to tell Dazai what he /likes/—
+
Makes him wonder how far that compatibility goes.
He’s immediately pushing /that/ thought away before he gets too excited, because there’s already heat pooling in his belly and it’s taking all his strength not to let it affect him, or to ask for more.
Dazai hasn’t even kissed+
He’s immediately pushing /that/ thought away before he gets too excited, because there’s already heat pooling in his belly and it’s taking all his strength not to let it affect him, or to ask for more.
Dazai hasn’t even kissed+
him again yet, and already Chuuya feels strung tight between his capable fingers.
They end up having to park a couple blocks away at a parking garage, storing the helmets in the storage space beneath the seat.
(Dazai opens it quickly and shuts it even faster, before Chuuya can+
They end up having to park a couple blocks away at a parking garage, storing the helmets in the storage space beneath the seat.
(Dazai opens it quickly and shuts it even faster, before Chuuya can+
see inside, not that he’s looking too hard.)
By the time they get close to the market, Chuuya’s head is on a swivel, taking in all the sights. He’s walking so fast he keeps up easily with Dazai’s longer stride, and the only thing keeping him from bumping into all the other +
By the time they get close to the market, Chuuya’s head is on a swivel, taking in all the sights. He’s walking so fast he keeps up easily with Dazai’s longer stride, and the only thing keeping him from bumping into all the other +
pedestrians on the street is Dazai’s hand on his back, steering him with gentle pressure from his fingertips.
There are a /lot/ of pedestrians, understandably.Arcade shopping street is popular among tourists and locals alike, and the place is packed, constantly moving, a stream+
There are a /lot/ of pedestrians, understandably.Arcade shopping street is popular among tourists and locals alike, and the place is packed, constantly moving, a stream+
of people moving in and out.
The only reason Chuuya doesn’t get crushed between all the people is because Dazai is so damn /tall/ and intimidating that people automatically avoid coming into his personal space.
Chuuya takes full advantage of that, huddling in the small circle+
The only reason Chuuya doesn’t get crushed between all the people is because Dazai is so damn /tall/ and intimidating that people automatically avoid coming into his personal space.
Chuuya takes full advantage of that, huddling in the small circle+
of space so he doesn’t get his toes stepped on.
When they finally walk inside, the air hits Chuuya like a wall. It smells /delicious/, all the smells from the food stands mixing in the air and heating it up. It’s loud, too, the sound of people talking and vendors shouting and+
When they finally walk inside, the air hits Chuuya like a wall. It smells /delicious/, all the smells from the food stands mixing in the air and heating it up. It’s loud, too, the sound of people talking and vendors shouting and+
money exchanging hands.
It’s bustling, filled with life, and Chuuya feels buoyed by it, bouncing up on the tips of his toes to see farther into the crowd.
Dazai leans down to speak close to his ear. “What do you want first?”
That’s a hard choice. There’s just so /much/, he+
It’s bustling, filled with life, and Chuuya feels buoyed by it, bouncing up on the tips of his toes to see farther into the crowd.
Dazai leans down to speak close to his ear. “What do you want first?”
That’s a hard choice. There’s just so /much/, he+
wouldn’t have time to do it all, not even if he had all day. He doesn’t want to miss out on anything.
Eventually, he points at a Yakitori stand. The line isn’t as long as some others, but he can smell the meat from here and it’s mouthwateringly good.
“Alright,” Dazai says, +
Eventually, he points at a Yakitori stand. The line isn’t as long as some others, but he can smell the meat from here and it’s mouthwateringly good.
“Alright,” Dazai says, +
taking his hand away. He nods at a drinks stand, “go get in line. I’ll get us waters real quick.”
Being separated from Dazai for even a second sounds like cruel and unusual punishment, but after the ride and the heat of the market, Chuuya is already thirsty. He nods, traipsing+
Being separated from Dazai for even a second sounds like cruel and unusual punishment, but after the ride and the heat of the market, Chuuya is already thirsty. He nods, traipsing+
over to the stand. Dazai disappears on his mission.
Chuuya slots in behind a group of girls, trying to keep appropriate distance without being swept away by the crowd. It’s a constant struggle, with people pressing in behind him and around him, jostling him in place.
Then +
Chuuya slots in behind a group of girls, trying to keep appropriate distance without being swept away by the crowd. It’s a constant struggle, with people pressing in behind him and around him, jostling him in place.
Then +
someone keeps pushing. Hard, too, like they’re shoving Chuuya out of the way.
He grits his teeth, trying to keep his balance because he doesn’t want to knock into the girls in front of him or stumble sideways into the crowd.
Turning his head, he makes eye contact with some+
He grits his teeth, trying to keep his balance because he doesn’t want to knock into the girls in front of him or stumble sideways into the crowd.
Turning his head, he makes eye contact with some+
guy standing behind him, apparently not even recognizing that there’s someone in front of him.
“Watch it,” he snaps, because the guy is /still/ pushing him, and he’s heavy enough that Chuuya is losing his center of balance. There’s not even that many people behind the guy, he’s+
“Watch it,” he snaps, because the guy is /still/ pushing him, and he’s heavy enough that Chuuya is losing his center of balance. There’s not even that many people behind the guy, he’s+
just trying to /physcially/ steal Chuuya’s spot by force.
The guy pushes again, and that’s /it/.
Chuuya whips around, teeth bared, ready to give this fucker a piece of his mind for trying to push him around—
But someone beats him to it. +
The guy pushes again, and that’s /it/.
Chuuya whips around, teeth bared, ready to give this fucker a piece of his mind for trying to push him around—
But someone beats him to it. +
A hand is fisting in the guys jacket, forcibly yanking him backwards and forcing him on his toes to compensate for the height difference. The guy flails,and Chuuya narrowly dodges an accidental punch to the face.
“He said,” Dazai snarls at him, teeth sharp, “/watch it/.”+
“He said,” Dazai snarls at him, teeth sharp, “/watch it/.”+
The guy whimpers, eyes wide with terror. “Jeez, okay, put me down. Don’t be an asshole—.”
That makes Chuuya snarl. “/You/ were shoving /me/, asshole. What are you, five and in the line for the slide? You’re /lucky/ he got to you first!”
Dazai shoves the guy backward, hard,+
That makes Chuuya snarl. “/You/ were shoving /me/, asshole. What are you, five and in the line for the slide? You’re /lucky/ he got to you first!”
Dazai shoves the guy backward, hard,+
uncaring that he sends a few innocent bystanders stumbling.
The guy shakes himself off, scowling and has the /nerve/ to make a rude gesture at them before turning around.
Chuuya’s muscles tighten, coiling as he starts to throw himself after that jerk—
He’s going to teach him+
The guy shakes himself off, scowling and has the /nerve/ to make a rude gesture at them before turning around.
Chuuya’s muscles tighten, coiling as he starts to throw himself after that jerk—
He’s going to teach him+
a lesson in /respect/—
An arm clamps down over his shoulders, keeping him in place. Chuuya ends up drawn up close to Dazai’s side, his arm a heavy, grounding weight over his shoulders.
“Let me go,” he snaps, irritated.
“Baby,” Dazai sighs, though he looks terribly amused, +
An arm clamps down over his shoulders, keeping him in place. Chuuya ends up drawn up close to Dazai’s side, his arm a heavy, grounding weight over his shoulders.
“Let me go,” he snaps, irritated.
“Baby,” Dazai sighs, though he looks terribly amused, +
“As lovely as it would be to watch you teach him some manners, I don’t want to get kicked out for fighting.”
Oh. Well. /Fine/ then. He crosses his arms across his chest, silently grumbling.
Dazai looks down at him, and are his eyes darker than usual? More focused? “Are you+
Oh. Well. /Fine/ then. He crosses his arms across his chest, silently grumbling.
Dazai looks down at him, and are his eyes darker than usual? More focused? “Are you+
alright though? He didn’t hurt you?”
The irritation starts to melt away under an incoming tide of affection. He leans heavily against Dazai’s side, daring to wrap his arm around his waist, under the jacket. “No,” he says, “I’m fine. It was just rude.”
Dazai snorts. “Yeah.”+
The irritation starts to melt away under an incoming tide of affection. He leans heavily against Dazai’s side, daring to wrap his arm around his waist, under the jacket. “No,” he says, “I’m fine. It was just rude.”
Dazai snorts. “Yeah.”+
They get their Yakitori without further incident, and the way Dazai already has his wallet out and pulls out the correct amount from a /thick/ stack of cash probably shouldn't be hot but--
Chuuya is starting to see the /appeal/ in these casual displays of wealth. The confidence+
Chuuya is starting to see the /appeal/ in these casual displays of wealth. The confidence+
and arrogance might be off-putting on someone /else/-- it was on Shuuji, who acted like he could just buy everyone and everything-- but on Dazai?
It settles naturally into the width of his shoulders, the set of his jaw, and instead of being a turn-off--
Well, it's a turn /on/.+
It settles naturally into the width of his shoulders, the set of his jaw, and instead of being a turn-off--
Well, it's a turn /on/.+
As most things about Dazai are.
After their food, they start to wander around the market, pausing by the stores for Chuuya to fawn over the trinkets inside. Dazai doesn't seem much for shopping-- he mostly watches Chuuya with an amused, fond, thoughtful look in his eye-- but he+
After their food, they start to wander around the market, pausing by the stores for Chuuya to fawn over the trinkets inside. Dazai doesn't seem much for shopping-- he mostly watches Chuuya with an amused, fond, thoughtful look in his eye-- but he+
points out a few things for him to look at, smiling at his reaction.
That attitude stays until they get about halfway through the market, and suddenly Dazai is gesturing at an open door to a bigger store. "Lets go in there?"
Chuuya nods, because that's the first store Dazai +
That attitude stays until they get about halfway through the market, and suddenly Dazai is gesturing at an open door to a bigger store. "Lets go in there?"
Chuuya nods, because that's the first store Dazai +
showed interest in, and it was starting to feel a bit one-sided. He's touched that Dazai thought to bring him here, but he wants /him/ to have fun too, not just watch him.
The first thing Chuuya sees when they enter is a rack of leather jackets, hanging up in neat rows arranged+
The first thing Chuuya sees when they enter is a rack of leather jackets, hanging up in neat rows arranged+
by size. Dazai heads for them immediately, pulling out some of the smaller ones.
Ones that /definitely/ won't fit him.
Chuuya tilts his head,watching him curiously as he wrinkles his nose at a particular jacket and puts it back. "What are you doing?"
"Well, sweetheart," Dazai+
Ones that /definitely/ won't fit him.
Chuuya tilts his head,watching him curiously as he wrinkles his nose at a particular jacket and puts it back. "What are you doing?"
"Well, sweetheart," Dazai+
says, holding a black jacket to Chuuya's torso, "it would be /irresponsible/ of me to let you keep riding without a jacket, so we're getting you one."
Eyes flickering between him and the jacket, Chuuya wonders; did he plan this?
Did he come here with the /intention/ of getting+
Eyes flickering between him and the jacket, Chuuya wonders; did he plan this?
Did he come here with the /intention/ of getting+
him a jacket, or did he think about it just now? And, sure, money isn't an issue for Dazai, but the fact that he's bought him a helmet and now a jacket--
He wants more. He wants to /keep/ going out with Chuuya, the realization of which makes his knees weak.
It feels /so/ nice+
He wants more. He wants to /keep/ going out with Chuuya, the realization of which makes his knees weak.
It feels /so/ nice+
to be visibly wanted, even without the exact words to say so.
He struggles out of the jacket he's already waiting, a bit dazed, not realizing that Dazai's eyes have fallen to the flash of stomach and hip exposed by his shirt riding up.
(Truthfully, Dazai has had to have a +
He struggles out of the jacket he's already waiting, a bit dazed, not realizing that Dazai's eyes have fallen to the flash of stomach and hip exposed by his shirt riding up.
(Truthfully, Dazai has had to have a +
/tight/ control of his emotions today, and he's glad he went for a run earlier today. First, the criminally tight jeans, the /beautiful/ ass wiggling all over his crotch on the drive over, then the man getting up close and personal with /his/ date--even if in a rude way-- and+
then that flash of anger earlier,that snarling fierceness Dazai wants to /taste/ and now /this/--
The stretch of his stomach muscles as raises his arms,the subtle flex and roll as he removes one sleeve then the other, /stripping for him/--
Yeah, Dazai is under /tight/ control.+
The stretch of his stomach muscles as raises his arms,the subtle flex and roll as he removes one sleeve then the other, /stripping for him/--
Yeah, Dazai is under /tight/ control.+
He wants to eat him /alive/. Wants him begging and looking up at him with that sweet, pleading look from earlier when they met up—
But more importantly, he doesn’t want to /scare/ him, and he /knows/ he can be a scary man, even when he doesn’t necessarily want to be.
So he +
But more importantly, he doesn’t want to /scare/ him, and he /knows/ he can be a scary man, even when he doesn’t necessarily want to be.
So he +
grits his teeth and offers out the jacket, and refuses to think about Chuuya wearing things Dazai bought for him.)
Chuuya reaches for the jacket, but Dazai arches an eyebrow, holding it firm. He blows out a breath, and then turns around, offering his back to Dazai.
He slides+
Chuuya reaches for the jacket, but Dazai arches an eyebrow, holding it firm. He blows out a breath, and then turns around, offering his back to Dazai.
He slides+
one arm in the sleeve then the other as Dazai holds the jacket for him.
The weight of the jacket it grounding, settling nicely across his shoulders. It's a little long in the sleeves though, the ends falling over his wrists, and it tightens uncomfortably over his back when he+
The weight of the jacket it grounding, settling nicely across his shoulders. It's a little long in the sleeves though, the ends falling over his wrists, and it tightens uncomfortably over his back when he+
lifts his arms. "Too small," he mutters, shaking his head.
The next jacket Dazai offers him is an /exquisite/ red, with the zipper centered on the left side. It's also got two pockets, big enough for Chuuya to cram his hands in. It fits perfectly.
Chuuya spins for Dazai, +
The next jacket Dazai offers him is an /exquisite/ red, with the zipper centered on the left side. It's also got two pockets, big enough for Chuuya to cram his hands in. It fits perfectly.
Chuuya spins for Dazai, +
showing off all the angles. "How do I look?"
"Perfect."
Something about the way he says that, like it's layered with hidden meaning, makes Chuuya pause. He looks over his shoulder--
Dazai is /much/ closer than before, suddenly close enough to touch, heat pouring off him.+
"Perfect."
Something about the way he says that, like it's layered with hidden meaning, makes Chuuya pause. He looks over his shoulder--
Dazai is /much/ closer than before, suddenly close enough to touch, heat pouring off him.+
Chuuya can only watch, breath stalling out in his chest, as Dazai reaches for him, and Chuuya is ready to melt for him, already envisioning the way he would pull him in, hands cupping his face--
Gentle fingers find his hair, carefully pulling trapped strands from underneath the+
Gentle fingers find his hair, carefully pulling trapped strands from underneath the+
jacket, smoothing them over his collar. Chuuya can't look away, filled with something sweet and heavy,even as he aches for more.
"Do you like it?" Dazai asks, leaning closer, and his eyes are /huge/ from this angle, the only thing Chuuya can see, the only thing he can focus on.+
"Do you like it?" Dazai asks, leaning closer, and his eyes are /huge/ from this angle, the only thing Chuuya can see, the only thing he can focus on.+
His fingertips are still on his neck, smoothing gently over his racing pulse.
"Yes," Chuuya mumbles, because he does like it. Likes the jacket, likes /him/--
Dazai leans even closer, and god, Chuuya doesn't even /care/ about public displays of affection right now, he's just +
"Yes," Chuuya mumbles, because he does like it. Likes the jacket, likes /him/--
Dazai leans even closer, and god, Chuuya doesn't even /care/ about public displays of affection right now, he's just +
/desperate/, ready and willing to be pushed against a rack of leather jackets and /kissed/--
With a mischevious grin, Dazai leans back again,with the tag on Chuuya's jacket in hand.
Of course. Of /course/.
Is his plan to string him along until he gets desperate enough to ask+
With a mischevious grin, Dazai leans back again,with the tag on Chuuya's jacket in hand.
Of course. Of /course/.
Is his plan to string him along until he gets desperate enough to ask+
on his own?? Because he will. He'll grab Dazai by the collar of his stupidly good looking leather jacket and /yank/ him down--
"Be right back, doll. I need to find some things."
Then, just like that, Dazai is walking away. Chuuya glares at his back.
After a moment to calm+
"Be right back, doll. I need to find some things."
Then, just like that, Dazai is walking away. Chuuya glares at his back.
After a moment to calm+
himself, Chuuya decides to look around a bit. Truthfully, it's not his kind of store, filled with leather jackets and riding pants, some sort of fluffy thing you can push into your helmet as earmuffs, or something.
There /is/ something though, that catches his eye.
In a glass +
There /is/ something though, that catches his eye.
In a glass +
cabinet, on the third shelf, there's a choker.
Sleek, obviously made of premium leather, with a shiny buckle. It's simple and yet somehow classy, and Chuuya can already imagine it around his own neck.
(He'd asked his dad to buy him chokers when he started experimenting with+
Sleek, obviously made of premium leather, with a shiny buckle. It's simple and yet somehow classy, and Chuuya can already imagine it around his own neck.
(He'd asked his dad to buy him chokers when he started experimenting with+
fashion, and his father had shut /that/ down by saying that Dazai was not a dog to be collared. Whenever he brought it up again, he started asking if he wanted to start drinking out of a bowl too.)
Chuuya presses his fingers to the glass, watching the reflection of light moving+
Chuuya presses his fingers to the glass, watching the reflection of light moving+
over the oiled leather, dreaming.
"-- and the choker."
He jumps a little, startled when Dazai's voice suddenly comes from behind him, closer than expected. Turning his head, he finds him at the register, with the tag for Chuuya's jacket, and two pairs of leather gloves. He's+
"-- and the choker."
He jumps a little, startled when Dazai's voice suddenly comes from behind him, closer than expected. Turning his head, he finds him at the register, with the tag for Chuuya's jacket, and two pairs of leather gloves. He's+
not looking at Chuuya, but he's clearly /talking/ about him, because the man ringing him up is headed towards the glass cabinet.He carefully pulls out the choker and brings it back over, folding it carefully into a bag after ringing it up.
Chuuya stands awkwardly, not sure what+
Chuuya stands awkwardly, not sure what+
to do because it feels like taking advantage if Dazai buys it for him--
But he does want it...
And if he's already buying him the jacket, then he doesn't mind, right?
He's not done making up his mind by the time Dazai is finished and taking the bag in hand. By then, it's too +
But he does want it...
And if he's already buying him the jacket, then he doesn't mind, right?
He's not done making up his mind by the time Dazai is finished and taking the bag in hand. By then, it's too +
/late/.
"You didn't have to do that," he mumbles, feeling the tiniest bit guilty. Spending money on him for the date specifically is one thing, but this would be a gift for /him/, and it feels different.
Dazai drapes his arm over his shoulders again, pulling him close to his +
"You didn't have to do that," he mumbles, feeling the tiniest bit guilty. Spending money on him for the date specifically is one thing, but this would be a gift for /him/, and it feels different.
Dazai drapes his arm over his shoulders again, pulling him close to his +
side again. The look he shoots him says more than enough.
/You're right. I didn't have to. I wanted to./
They grab another bite to eat, this time of some candied fruit, before making their way out of the market. It's been almost an hour and a half.
And in the garage, that's +
/You're right. I didn't have to. I wanted to./
They grab another bite to eat, this time of some candied fruit, before making their way out of the market. It's been almost an hour and a half.
And in the garage, that's +
when Chuuya makes his move.
After stashing his older jacket beneath the seat,and before they put the helmets back on,Chuuya steps close and gathers up all his courage to ask,"Why won't you kiss me?"
Dazai leans back against his bike,eyebrow arched."Do you want me to kiss you?"+
After stashing his older jacket beneath the seat,and before they put the helmets back on,Chuuya steps close and gathers up all his courage to ask,"Why won't you kiss me?"
Dazai leans back against his bike,eyebrow arched."Do you want me to kiss you?"+
Chuuya huffs a little, equal parts embarrassed and irritated. "Yes. You know I do."
He /has/ to know, Chuuya isn't subtle even when he /tries/.
"I did know, but I like to hear you /ask/."
Oh. Is it that easy? "Kiss me."
"That's all you had to say, doll." +
He /has/ to know, Chuuya isn't subtle even when he /tries/.
"I did know, but I like to hear you /ask/."
Oh. Is it that easy? "Kiss me."
"That's all you had to say, doll." +
Fingers hook into his beltloops, tugging him close. It’s as easy as breathing to follow the pull, stepping between Dazai’s legs.
When he’s close enough, one of the hands slides around his lower back, encouraging the natural arch of his spine. The other brushes up his torso,+
When he’s close enough, one of the hands slides around his lower back, encouraging the natural arch of his spine. The other brushes up his torso,+
sliding under his jaw to tip his head back with a thumb.
Chuuya’s hands end up finding his shoulders, fingers flexing in the thick leather, pent up.
He’s glad Dazai doesn’t tease him longer, or ask him to open his eyes, because if he has to wait even a /second/ longer he +
Chuuya’s hands end up finding his shoulders, fingers flexing in the thick leather, pent up.
He’s glad Dazai doesn’t tease him longer, or ask him to open his eyes, because if he has to wait even a /second/ longer he +
is going to lose his mind--
Dazai leans, and Chuuya bends to fit him, helpless to the pull like a flower to the sun--
Their lips meet and the world holds it breath.
Just like the first time, it's incredibly soft at first, testing how much they both want it, how much further +
Dazai leans, and Chuuya bends to fit him, helpless to the pull like a flower to the sun--
Their lips meet and the world holds it breath.
Just like the first time, it's incredibly soft at first, testing how much they both want it, how much further +
they want to take this.
Then Chuuya's fingers tighten in Dazai's clothes, pulling him down at the same time he's surging up, and a spark ignites between them.
The next kiss is harder, wetter, Dazai pressing down on him. Chuuya is hanging onto him desperately, feeling like the +
Then Chuuya's fingers tighten in Dazai's clothes, pulling him down at the same time he's surging up, and a spark ignites between them.
The next kiss is harder, wetter, Dazai pressing down on him. Chuuya is hanging onto him desperately, feeling like the +
only thing holding him up is Dazai's arm around his back--
Which is shifting, a little, pulling back some and angling /downward/, fingers sliding into his back pocket.
Chuuya shudders, a whimper caught in his throat as Dazai's hand /slowly/--giving Chuuya ample time to stop +
Which is shifting, a little, pulling back some and angling /downward/, fingers sliding into his back pocket.
Chuuya shudders, a whimper caught in his throat as Dazai's hand /slowly/--giving Chuuya ample time to stop +
him if he wants--slides fully into his pocket, big enough that he can nearly the entire cheek in one hand.
He uses his grip on him to drag him even closer, large hand firm on his ass, fingers squeezing ever so slightly--
Chuuya's next breath leaves him in a hot rush, swallowed+
He uses his grip on him to drag him even closer, large hand firm on his ass, fingers squeezing ever so slightly--
Chuuya's next breath leaves him in a hot rush, swallowed+
up by Dazai and returned to him even /hotter/.
He takes advantage of Chuuya's open mouth,sliding his tongue inside in one long, slick motion.
He tastes like the remnants of their candied cherries, sweetly addicted, and their tongues rub together slowly, testing.
Chuuya feels+
He takes advantage of Chuuya's open mouth,sliding his tongue inside in one long, slick motion.
He tastes like the remnants of their candied cherries, sweetly addicted, and their tongues rub together slowly, testing.
Chuuya feels+
taken /over/ by Dazai, his tongue in his mouth, hand on his neck with the thumb stroking maddeningly over the pulse point, the other arm crossed over his back and holding him close with a hand on his /ass/, chests pressed together, heat and the subtle flex of muscle, burning, +
tempting,sin and beauty and lust.
Dazai's tongue curls around his own, and he was /right/ on the dinner date,when he thought that Dazai was skilled with his tongue, because the way he languidly tastes his teeth, rubbing against the roof of his mouth until a point of sensitivity+
Dazai's tongue curls around his own, and he was /right/ on the dinner date,when he thought that Dazai was skilled with his tongue, because the way he languidly tastes his teeth, rubbing against the roof of his mouth until a point of sensitivity+
develops that makes him shiver.
With their height difference, Dazai’s hips end up pressed against his stomach. The longer they kiss, the harder Dazai squeezes him, the deeper his tongue slides like he’s trying to fuck his throat, the warmer Dazai gets against him, the bulge+
With their height difference, Dazai’s hips end up pressed against his stomach. The longer they kiss, the harder Dazai squeezes him, the deeper his tongue slides like he’s trying to fuck his throat, the warmer Dazai gets against him, the bulge+
grows against him, thickening, turning hotter.
Naturally, Chuuya is /gone/ compared to Dazai, but because of the way he’s standing, he doesn’t get /any/ sort of stimulation or friction. He’s reduced to tiny, instinctive grinds of his hips, whining incoherently into Dazai’s +
Naturally, Chuuya is /gone/ compared to Dazai, but because of the way he’s standing, he doesn’t get /any/ sort of stimulation or friction. He’s reduced to tiny, instinctive grinds of his hips, whining incoherently into Dazai’s +
mouth.
But he’s not /doing/ it about it, besides tilting his head back to kiss him deeper. He’s not even moving his own hips, content to let Chuuya squirm against him while he focuses on kissing him breathless.
Irritation flashes through Chuuya, fueled by desperation and the+
But he’s not /doing/ it about it, besides tilting his head back to kiss him deeper. He’s not even moving his own hips, content to let Chuuya squirm against him while he focuses on kissing him breathless.
Irritation flashes through Chuuya, fueled by desperation and the+
growing pit of hunter in his stomach, and he sinks his teeth into his tongue to hold him in place as he /sucks/, hollowing out his cheeks with it.
That makes Dazai growl into his mouth,hand sliding further on his neck. His fingers settle around his throat, and the light squeeze+
That makes Dazai growl into his mouth,hand sliding further on his neck. His fingers settle around his throat, and the light squeeze+
isn’t /threatening/, but it is surprising, enough that Chuuya lets go with a short gasp.
There’s a second when Chuuya thinks it’s going to escalate, when Dazai nips at his bottom lip just sharply enough to hurt, and he’s ready for it, willing—
Then Dazai is ripping himself +
There’s a second when Chuuya thinks it’s going to escalate, when Dazai nips at his bottom lip just sharply enough to hurt, and he’s ready for it, willing—
Then Dazai is ripping himself +
away with a snarl, breathing heavily, body throbbing with heat.
Chuuya leans after him, fingers like claws in his jacket, trying to pull him back down. “Wait— keep going—.”
Dazai squeezes his eyes shut. His face is red, chest heaving and every movement he makes involuntarily+
Chuuya leans after him, fingers like claws in his jacket, trying to pull him back down. “Wait— keep going—.”
Dazai squeezes his eyes shut. His face is red, chest heaving and every movement he makes involuntarily+
leads to his hips grinding against Chuuya’s stomach and he /wants/ it, he doesn’t even care that they’re still in public on their second date—
“If we keep going,” Dazai rasps, “I’m not going to /stop/.”
Fuck, yes, /please/, that’s exactly what he wants, what he /needs/.
+
“If we keep going,” Dazai rasps, “I’m not going to /stop/.”
Fuck, yes, /please/, that’s exactly what he wants, what he /needs/.
+
Pressing himself harder against Dazai, like he might convince him through strength only, Chuuya dares a, “but I /want/ you.”
Dazai’s eyes open again, pupils huge as he looks down on him, expression ravenous. He looks strained, moments away from giving in.
“I know you do, +
Dazai’s eyes open again, pupils huge as he looks down on him, expression ravenous. He looks strained, moments away from giving in.
“I know you do, +
baby,” Dazai croons, bending down again. Chuuya tilts his head up, eyes going shut again, preparing for the kiss—
But Dazai bypasses his mouth, pressing his lips to his cheek briefly as he goes to whisper in his ear:
“But the first time I make you whimper my name /isn’t/ going+
But Dazai bypasses his mouth, pressing his lips to his cheek briefly as he goes to whisper in his ear:
“But the first time I make you whimper my name /isn’t/ going+
to be in a parking lot.”
Then he’s sucking Chuuya’s earlobe into his mouth, which isn’t /fucking fair/ because his mouth is hot and wet, and he can /almost/ imagine the same suction lower, where he wants it.
He opens his mouth to argue, certain he can get Dazai to give in if+
Then he’s sucking Chuuya’s earlobe into his mouth, which isn’t /fucking fair/ because his mouth is hot and wet, and he can /almost/ imagine the same suction lower, where he wants it.
He opens his mouth to argue, certain he can get Dazai to give in if+
he pushes just a /little/ harder—
His fingers tighten around his throat, just enough to make his breath catch.
This time, his tone is deeper, lower, more commanding. “Don’t argue with me, brat. I told you no.”
In this moment, Chuuya swears he hates him, frustration boiling+
His fingers tighten around his throat, just enough to make his breath catch.
This time, his tone is deeper, lower, more commanding. “Don’t argue with me, brat. I told you no.”
In this moment, Chuuya swears he hates him, frustration boiling+
over in hot waves.
Then it occurs to him—
If the problem is the /location/, why don’t they just go /somewhere else?/
“Then take me home?” Chuuya breathes out, sliding his fingers up into Dazai’s hair, nails dragging the way that makes him shiver every time.
There’s a +
Then it occurs to him—
If the problem is the /location/, why don’t they just go /somewhere else?/
“Then take me home?” Chuuya breathes out, sliding his fingers up into Dazai’s hair, nails dragging the way that makes him shiver every time.
There’s a +
heavy, /charged/ silence, air crackling between them as Dazai clearly considers it, breath hot in Chuuya’s ear.
With a heavy, strained sigh, Dazai says, “Not today.”
When Chuuya instinctively digs his nails in, he continues, “I’m not prepared, and if—when— I fuck you, I want+
With a heavy, strained sigh, Dazai says, “Not today.”
When Chuuya instinctively digs his nails in, he continues, “I’m not prepared, and if—when— I fuck you, I want+
it to be better than just some rushed fuck because we’re both desperate for it.”
Then, like this entire conversation hasn’t knocked Chuuya /completely/ off his axis (from the /when I fuck you/ to the curse sounding /obscene/ on his tongue because Chuuya’s never heard him curse+
Then, like this entire conversation hasn’t knocked Chuuya /completely/ off his axis (from the /when I fuck you/ to the curse sounding /obscene/ on his tongue because Chuuya’s never heard him curse+
before, to the admission that /he’s/ desperate too) he continues, shrugging with one shoulder like it’s not a big deal:
“More special, I guess.”
Chuuya feels like he got knocked over the head, mind reeling because he was /not/ expecting that, not at all. He figured it wouldn’t+
“More special, I guess.”
Chuuya feels like he got knocked over the head, mind reeling because he was /not/ expecting that, not at all. He figured it wouldn’t+
matter to someone like Dazai. Frankly, he didn’t think it mattered that much to himself, because he was fully willing to be bent over Dazai’s bike in full view of the public, he was that desperate.
But you know? That fact that he /cares/ about it, makes giddy warmth bubble up+
But you know? That fact that he /cares/ about it, makes giddy warmth bubble up+
in his chest.
Dazai’s not so bad, is he? Definitely not someone that Chuuya would regret giving his virginity too.
He sighs. Somehow, their embrace has shifted into some resembling a tight hug, with Dazai’s chin hooked over his shoulder and Chuuya as high up on his toes as he+
Dazai’s not so bad, is he? Definitely not someone that Chuuya would regret giving his virginity too.
He sighs. Somehow, their embrace has shifted into some resembling a tight hug, with Dazai’s chin hooked over his shoulder and Chuuya as high up on his toes as he+
can get. “I never really got the whole ‘make sure your first time is special’ thing, but I understand what you’re saying.”
Dazai stills. After a moment, he pulls back, just far enough that he can look down at him. The look in his eye is something between shocked and concerned.+
Dazai stills. After a moment, he pulls back, just far enough that he can look down at him. The look in his eye is something between shocked and concerned.+
“/Your/ first time?”
Chuuya nods slowly. The way Dazai is staring at him, eyes growing wider, is starting to make him feel awkward.
Or like he did something wrong, or said something bad.
“As in.... your /first/ time? You haven’t—?”
He tries to play off the weird feeling +
Chuuya nods slowly. The way Dazai is staring at him, eyes growing wider, is starting to make him feel awkward.
Or like he did something wrong, or said something bad.
“As in.... your /first/ time? You haven’t—?”
He tries to play off the weird feeling +
in his chest by giving a shrug and a tiny, self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. I mean, I’ve never really had a boyfriend before, so it just...never happened.”
Dazai stares at him like he just admitted to selling kidneys on the black market.
Then he’s pulling the hand away from his+
Dazai stares at him like he just admitted to selling kidneys on the black market.
Then he’s pulling the hand away from his+
throat, wiping it down his face. “Jesus,” he mutters, just loud enough for Chuuya to hear.
He /shrinks/. Dazai looks like he just gave him /terrible/ news, like this changes everything, and /why/ did he tell him? He should’ve known better. A lot of people get weird over the +
He /shrinks/. Dazai looks like he just gave him /terrible/ news, like this changes everything, and /why/ did he tell him? He should’ve known better. A lot of people get weird over the +
whole virgin thing.
Which is funny, because to his face, everyone spouts the same ‘it should be special! Take your time! You should never rush into sex!’ but /most/ of the time he gets weird, pitying looks, like he’s missing out on some vital part of life, like he isn’t truly +
Which is funny, because to his face, everyone spouts the same ‘it should be special! Take your time! You should never rush into sex!’ but /most/ of the time he gets weird, pitying looks, like he’s missing out on some vital part of life, like he isn’t truly +
living.
And /half/ the time it’s used as an insult for people who aren’t conventionally attractive or have a bad personality.
The other part of the time, people treat you like a weirdo, or like you’re untouchable.
(Chuuya once told a guy that he was flirting with that he was+
And /half/ the time it’s used as an insult for people who aren’t conventionally attractive or have a bad personality.
The other part of the time, people treat you like a weirdo, or like you’re untouchable.
(Chuuya once told a guy that he was flirting with that he was+
a virgin, and he /promptly/ got ghosted.)
So yeah, everyone /says/ that not having sex is your choice or powerful or inspiring or what-the-fuck-ever, but that’s not how they /act/.
They act like it’s a /shameful/ thing, something to hide lest it be used against you.
He +
So yeah, everyone /says/ that not having sex is your choice or powerful or inspiring or what-the-fuck-ever, but that’s not how they /act/.
They act like it’s a /shameful/ thing, something to hide lest it be used against you.
He +
didn’t think Dazai was one of /those/ people, but based on the way he’s /still/ holding his face, expression twisted into something like pain and regret—
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.
Slowly, he takes his hands back, letting them drop to his sides+
Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.
Slowly, he takes his hands back, letting them drop to his sides+
awkwardly. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “I know it’s weird or whatever—.”
When he goes to pull away though, Dazai’s arm doesn’t move, keeping him locked in place. His hand is still in his back pocket but it’s no longer squeezing.
Dazai uncovers his face. “It’s not /weird/,” he says,+
When he goes to pull away though, Dazai’s arm doesn’t move, keeping him locked in place. His hand is still in his back pocket but it’s no longer squeezing.
Dazai uncovers his face. “It’s not /weird/,” he says,+
“It’s just—. I didn’t know, and if I /had/ known, I would’ve—.”
(Dazai is berating himself silently, because he probably /should’ve/ known. All the signs were there— the eagerness, the sensitivity, the wide eyed look whenever Dazai gave him even a little bit of attention.
He+
(Dazai is berating himself silently, because he probably /should’ve/ known. All the signs were there— the eagerness, the sensitivity, the wide eyed look whenever Dazai gave him even a little bit of attention.
He+
blamed it on Chuuya having bad experiences beforehand— the consent thing— but he /should’ve/ realized.
And he didn’t. It’s not like he /mauled/ him and overall he was pretty careful with him, but if he had /known/...)
“I would’ve done things differently. I would’ve been+
And he didn’t. It’s not like he /mauled/ him and overall he was pretty careful with him, but if he had /known/...)
“I would’ve done things differently. I would’ve been+
more careful with you. Slower.”
That relieves some of the tension in Chuuya’s chest, letting him take a fuller breath without feeling like his lungs are going to be crushed under the weight. “If you were any slower with me, I would’ve been half-dead from blue balls by now,” he+
That relieves some of the tension in Chuuya’s chest, letting him take a fuller breath without feeling like his lungs are going to be crushed under the weight. “If you were any slower with me, I would’ve been half-dead from blue balls by now,” he+
mutters, knocking his head against Dazai’s chest.
That startles a laugh out of him. “Poor baby,” he teases gently, his fingers once again finding Chuuya’s jaw. His thumb strokes gently over his cheek.
“I’m glad you survived,” he murmurs, voice dropping into something low and+
That startles a laugh out of him. “Poor baby,” he teases gently, his fingers once again finding Chuuya’s jaw. His thumb strokes gently over his cheek.
“I’m glad you survived,” he murmurs, voice dropping into something low and+
sweet, like melted sugar, "but you're gonna have to wait a bit longer, now that I know.I want to take my time with you."
Chuuya thinks about it,ignoring the shiver that crawls up his spine at the insinuation. Then he lets Dazai tip his head back, wrinkling his nose at him. "I'm+
Chuuya thinks about it,ignoring the shiver that crawls up his spine at the insinuation. Then he lets Dazai tip his head back, wrinkling his nose at him. "I'm+
actually going to die."
"Mm, I don't think so," Dazai hums, leaning down, tilting his chin to a better angle. "You have so much to look forward to."
He presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and Chuuya's eyes are automatically going half-lidded, a soft smile growing in +
"Mm, I don't think so," Dazai hums, leaning down, tilting his chin to a better angle. "You have so much to look forward to."
He presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and Chuuya's eyes are automatically going half-lidded, a soft smile growing in +
reaction.
"Besides," Dazai whispers, "I promise I can be /very/ motivating, if you let me."
Chuuya would let him do /anything/.
The kiss Dazai captures him in is sweeter, not backed by heat or frantic desire--
But it somehow feels /just/ as good.
-----
One of the /very/ +
"Besides," Dazai whispers, "I promise I can be /very/ motivating, if you let me."
Chuuya would let him do /anything/.
The kiss Dazai captures him in is sweeter, not backed by heat or frantic desire--
But it somehow feels /just/ as good.
-----
One of the /very/ +
few things that has not changed in Dazai's life is one tiny, hole-in-the-wall bar hidden away in a small alleyway.
The Lupin.
Granted, the owner had remodeled it at some point, but it still retained that small, homey feel and after a while, Dazai barely remembered what it +
The Lupin.
Granted, the owner had remodeled it at some point, but it still retained that small, homey feel and after a while, Dazai barely remembered what it +
looked like before.
It still smelled like whiskey and spirits, it still had a tall, quiet bartender manning it, the lights still flickered wildly whenever it rained.
More importantly, it still had the same man in it, someone Dazai has been friends with and drinking at this +
It still smelled like whiskey and spirits, it still had a tall, quiet bartender manning it, the lights still flickered wildly whenever it rained.
More importantly, it still had the same man in it, someone Dazai has been friends with and drinking at this +
same bar, in this same exact spot, for as long as he cares to remember.
In fact, there's already a glass of whiskey waiting for him in his spot when he arrives, a matched pair to the broad redhead sitting nearby and nursing his own drink.
"Long time no see," Dazai says when+
In fact, there's already a glass of whiskey waiting for him in his spot when he arrives, a matched pair to the broad redhead sitting nearby and nursing his own drink.
"Long time no see," Dazai says when+
he gets closer, clapping a hand on Oda's shoulder. It's only because he was loud coming down the stairs that Oda doesn't flinch.
Oda looks up, eyes fonder than his small smile. "You didn't answer my last call."
Sighing, Dazai sinks into his seat. It's true, he didn't, but in+
Oda looks up, eyes fonder than his small smile. "You didn't answer my last call."
Sighing, Dazai sinks into his seat. It's true, he didn't, but in+
his defense, he's been pretty busy lately. It's not that he didn't want to talk to Oda, it's just that their friendship has turned complicated over recent years, due to circumstances not entirely in their control.
Technically, they're not supposed to be meeting up. Kouyou isn't+
Technically, they're not supposed to be meeting up. Kouyou isn't+
supposed to encourage it, but she also understands, so she usually ends up turning a blind eye and going to bed early.
"Yeah, I know. I'm busy these days-- Yosano did mention Sakura's party though, next week. I'll make some time to stop by, give her a present."
Oda raises his+
"Yeah, I know. I'm busy these days-- Yosano did mention Sakura's party though, next week. I'll make some time to stop by, give her a present."
Oda raises his+
glass in a silent salute. The action lifts the tan jacket he's wearing, briefly revealing the holsters under his arms. Technically, weapons aren't allowed in the bar, but they've been coming here long enough that the bartender knows they won't cause trouble themselves.
(But if+
(But if+
trouble finds /them/, well...
They might not /start/ fights, but they can finish them damn well.)
"Get her something from Pokémon. She's obsessed. She asked me for a cell phone /specfically/ so she could play Pokémon Go. Yosano got her a nightlight that puts Pokémon on the +
They might not /start/ fights, but they can finish them damn well.)
"Get her something from Pokémon. She's obsessed. She asked me for a cell phone /specfically/ so she could play Pokémon Go. Yosano got her a nightlight that puts Pokémon on the +
ceiling. I'm sure she's gonna go nuts for it."
Smiling, Dazai takes a long sip of his drink. "You got it."
They sit there in silence for a moment, both of them taking slow drinks. It's a comfortable quiet, as they both come down from their respective workdays, unwinding and+
Smiling, Dazai takes a long sip of his drink. "You got it."
They sit there in silence for a moment, both of them taking slow drinks. It's a comfortable quiet, as they both come down from their respective workdays, unwinding and+
relaxing in the presence of an old, trusted friend.
Friendships like these were never encouraged in the mafia, so the fact that they even managed to start one in the first place is surprising,but managing to keep it after all this years is remarkable.
Even if they don't get to+
Friendships like these were never encouraged in the mafia, so the fact that they even managed to start one in the first place is surprising,but managing to keep it after all this years is remarkable.
Even if they don't get to+
see each other very often.
(Even if Dazai sometimes feels like he’s been replaced and he wouldn’t be missed if he disappeared.
He doesn’t blame Oda, he knows it’s complicated and his relationship with Kouyou and Yosano makes it even more complicated.
He’s just lonely,+
(Even if Dazai sometimes feels like he’s been replaced and he wouldn’t be missed if he disappeared.
He doesn’t blame Oda, he knows it’s complicated and his relationship with Kouyou and Yosano makes it even more complicated.
He’s just lonely,+
sometimes. He just misses him, sometimes, that’s all.)
Once he’s had a drink in him and a refill in his hands, Dazai finally starts to feel relaxed, tension dissipating. He leans on one elbow, chin in hand, idly watching the ice in his drink bob up and down. “I have a problem.”+
Once he’s had a drink in him and a refill in his hands, Dazai finally starts to feel relaxed, tension dissipating. He leans on one elbow, chin in hand, idly watching the ice in his drink bob up and down. “I have a problem.”+
Oda turns to face him more fully. His drink is only half-finished and he’s sipping it leisurely more than actually drinking it. Either he’s driving himself home, or he has a reason to be sober after this. “You mean something other than your usual amount of problems?”
Dazai+
Dazai+
sticks his tongue out at him. He’s right but he didn’t have to say it. “It’s the Rats. They’re moving in on the ports, opening up a shipping line.”
Oda nods, expression tightening. “Kouyou knows, she’s keeping an eye on it.”
Something about that, the way it’s phrased, like +
Oda nods, expression tightening. “Kouyou knows, she’s keeping an eye on it.”
Something about that, the way it’s phrased, like +
Dazai shouldn’t worry about it or be bothered because it’s /mafia business/ makes irritation crawl up his spine. He arches an eyebrow, gripping his glass tight as he says, “Oh? Does she /also/ know that the documents for the new warehouse they bought are signed by /government +
officials/?”
By the way Oda’s face carefully shifts into something neutral and blank, the answer is /no/.
Yeah, didn’t think so.
Pushing the irritation down, he tries a different angle. “Look, the Rat’s getting a foothold in the city is bad news for everyone. More +
By the way Oda’s face carefully shifts into something neutral and blank, the answer is /no/.
Yeah, didn’t think so.
Pushing the irritation down, he tries a different angle. “Look, the Rat’s getting a foothold in the city is bad news for everyone. More +
competition means more tension, which means more infighting. I want them gone just as much as the mafia does.”
Oda takes a long, slow sip of his whiskey, clearly a way to give himself more time to think. His posture is growing tense, shoulders tightening.
“I am /willing/ to+
Oda takes a long, slow sip of his whiskey, clearly a way to give himself more time to think. His posture is growing tense, shoulders tightening.
“I am /willing/ to+
offer my skills—“ of which, Dazai has many, “— in exchange for a little /help/, so we can both figure out what they want, and how to stop them. I’ve been trying to get a meeting with her for weeks, but she hasn’t been answering my calls.”
Calls being sending Yosano in to bribe+
Calls being sending Yosano in to bribe+
her for a meeting, but considering Yosano has been avoiding his actual calls ever since—
It didn’t work. So he’s going for the big guns this time, Kouyou’s secret weakness:
Oda.
“You know she doesn’t like meeting with you. She thinks it breeds mutiny. Her position is+
It didn’t work. So he’s going for the big guns this time, Kouyou’s secret weakness:
Oda.
“You know she doesn’t like meeting with you. She thinks it breeds mutiny. Her position is+
precarious enough as it is,” Oda says, telling him the same story he’s been told /every/ time he tries to interact with the mafia in any way.
Beyond selling them information, that is. God forbid Dazai actually show his face, but his /information/ is certainly good enough for+
Beyond selling them information, that is. God forbid Dazai actually show his face, but his /information/ is certainly good enough for+
her, isn’t it.
He throws his hands up. “It’s been /fifteen/ years since I gave up the position. I don’t want to be the boss; I don’t even want to be in the /mafia/. When is she going to realize that I’m not after her /job/, I’m trying to /help/?!”
He doesn’t usually get this+
He throws his hands up. “It’s been /fifteen/ years since I gave up the position. I don’t want to be the boss; I don’t even want to be in the /mafia/. When is she going to realize that I’m not after her /job/, I’m trying to /help/?!”
He doesn’t usually get this+
snappy in Oda’s presence, but he’s so /tired/ of this game. He understands why she’s wary— he /is/ still the demon prodigy and Mori’s rightful heir, but he gave up the seat to Yosano when he left 18 years ago and he hasn’t looked back once.
Kouyou has only been the boss for +
Kouyou has only been the boss for +
three years, and there’s a decent amount of people who don’t believe in her right to rule—
But that’s /her/ problem. That has nothing to do with Dazai.
Dazai takes another gulp, hoping to calm his nerves. “And you know, maybe it looks /worse/ on her that she’s too afraid+
But that’s /her/ problem. That has nothing to do with Dazai.
Dazai takes another gulp, hoping to calm his nerves. “And you know, maybe it looks /worse/ on her that she’s too afraid+
to meet with me, has she ever thought of /that/? You don’t rule criminals by /running away/ from people who threaten you.”
The sigh Oda gives is clearly exasperated, even his patience drawn thin. He’s been stuck between them all for years now, as they all try to figure out this+
The sigh Oda gives is clearly exasperated, even his patience drawn thin. He’s been stuck between them all for years now, as they all try to figure out this+
complicated relationship out. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Osamu. I’m just her bodyguard.”
He can’t help it; he laughs /hard/. “Don’t try to lie to me, Odasaku. We both know you’re a /lot/ more than that to her.”
Oda levels him with a wary glance, playing dumb. “What+
He can’t help it; he laughs /hard/. “Don’t try to lie to me, Odasaku. We both know you’re a /lot/ more than that to her.”
Oda levels him with a wary glance, playing dumb. “What+
do you mean?”
Raising a hand, Dazai puts fingers up as he counts off, “First of all, you get this big, dopey, lovesick look on your face whenever you mention her. Secondly, you wouldn’t rise up the ranks for just /anyone/. She also includes you in /everything/.”
Oda is+
Raising a hand, Dazai puts fingers up as he counts off, “First of all, you get this big, dopey, lovesick look on your face whenever you mention her. Secondly, you wouldn’t rise up the ranks for just /anyone/. She also includes you in /everything/.”
Oda is+
slowly turning pale,hand tight enough on his glass to break it.He needs a refill.The bartender doesn’t approach.
“Last of all,and most damning— Yosano /brags/ when she’s drunk. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard the story of the time her and Kouyou bent you over the—.”+
“Last of all,and most damning— Yosano /brags/ when she’s drunk. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard the story of the time her and Kouyou bent you over the—.”+
“Alright,” Oda interrupts, waving the bartender over, “I get it.”
Dazai slides his once-again empty cup over as well. He raises his hands at Oda, the classic sign of non-aggression, but his smile is wicked. “There’s nothing wrong with getting pegged til you cry, but you don’t +
Dazai slides his once-again empty cup over as well. He raises his hands at Oda, the classic sign of non-aggression, but his smile is wicked. “There’s nothing wrong with getting pegged til you cry, but you don’t +
have to lie about it. Not to me.”
The bartender sets fresh whiskey down in front of them, expression politely closed off. The poor man has probably heard too many things in the course of his career.
“No one is supposed to know,” Oda says, picking up his glass, “you can’t tell+
The bartender sets fresh whiskey down in front of them, expression politely closed off. The poor man has probably heard too many things in the course of his career.
“No one is supposed to know,” Oda says, picking up his glass, “you can’t tell+
anyone.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Shooting him a knowing look, Oda says dryly, “No secrets are safe with you, Osamu.”
Dazai has to admit, that /hurt/. It’s not uncalled for or coming from a wrong place— he /is/ the reigning king of the information network for a reason—+
“Your secret is safe with me.”
Shooting him a knowing look, Oda says dryly, “No secrets are safe with you, Osamu.”
Dazai has to admit, that /hurt/. It’s not uncalled for or coming from a wrong place— he /is/ the reigning king of the information network for a reason—+
but it still /hurts/.
He’s never done anything to hurt Oda, and never would. To think that he wouldn’t trust him, even after all he’s done and how long they’ve known eachother...
Makes his chest hurt, heart squeezing painfully in his chest.
He frowns into his drink. “/Your/+
He’s never done anything to hurt Oda, and never would. To think that he wouldn’t trust him, even after all he’s done and how long they’ve known eachother...
Makes his chest hurt, heart squeezing painfully in his chest.
He frowns into his drink. “/Your/+
secrets are. They always have been.”
Heavy silence falls between them for a second, crushing.
Then Oda is nodding, exhaling. “Yeah, I know.”
Thé look they share is inexplicably fond, and for a moment, Dazai is 15 again, with Oda busting into his room in a panic, convinced+
Heavy silence falls between them for a second, crushing.
Then Oda is nodding, exhaling. “Yeah, I know.”
Thé look they share is inexplicably fond, and for a moment, Dazai is 15 again, with Oda busting into his room in a panic, convinced+
Mori was going to kill him because he didn’t finish the assassination job.
He’d left a kid alive, because he couldn’t bring himself to kill a helpless child and now he had to find a place for them to stay before they both got caught and killed.
It was stressful then, but the+
He’d left a kid alive, because he couldn’t bring himself to kill a helpless child and now he had to find a place for them to stay before they both got caught and killed.
It was stressful then, but the+
image of the Oda back then— with the leather jacket and the brass knuckles always on his fingers, and the nose piercing, the way he /always/ wore those knee-high boots even when the job didn’t call for it— fussing over a kid makes Dazai smile with lingering affection.
Oda was+
Oda was+
always too soft for the mafia, in a lot of ways. It’s a miracle he’s still alive, still the kind man that takes in orphans and gives them a home.
“Okay,” Oda finally agrees, “I’ll do what I have to get her to agree to meeting with you.”
(Dazai does /not/ think about ‘what he+
“Okay,” Oda finally agrees, “I’ll do what I have to get her to agree to meeting with you.”
(Dazai does /not/ think about ‘what he+
has to do’ but he’s pretty sure he’s going to hear about it from Yosano later /anyways/.
It’s not like he’s shy about sex or anything, he just wishes she didn’t use so many /details/ about his best friend.)
Dazai smiles at him gratefully, relieved that the hard part of the +
It’s not like he’s shy about sex or anything, he just wishes she didn’t use so many /details/ about his best friend.)
Dazai smiles at him gratefully, relieved that the hard part of the +
evening is over, and now they can relax—
“Now tell me about your problem.”
That’s the thing about knowing someone for a /very/ long time: it’s hard to lie to them, even by omission.
“I just did,” Dazai says, looking away. He’s glad he’s three drinks already, blood beginning+
“Now tell me about your problem.”
That’s the thing about knowing someone for a /very/ long time: it’s hard to lie to them, even by omission.
“I just did,” Dazai says, looking away. He’s glad he’s three drinks already, blood beginning+
to turn warm.
Oda rolls his eyes. “No, the Rats are an inconvenience, and so is the meeting with Kouyou. Neither of those are /problems/— so tell me. Maybe I can help.”
Well—
He probably /should/ talk about it.
Drumming his fingers on the bar, he admits, “I met someone.”+
Oda rolls his eyes. “No, the Rats are an inconvenience, and so is the meeting with Kouyou. Neither of those are /problems/— so tell me. Maybe I can help.”
Well—
He probably /should/ talk about it.
Drumming his fingers on the bar, he admits, “I met someone.”+
Oda raises an eyebrow at him, which is his equivalent of a scandalized gasp. “You... /met/ someone?”
Dazai gets why he’s surprised. He’s been notoriously anti-relationship since they’ve known eachother,and the closest thing he’s had has been brief flings at the club. He doesn’t+
Dazai gets why he’s surprised. He’s been notoriously anti-relationship since they’ve known eachother,and the closest thing he’s had has been brief flings at the club. He doesn’t+
mention most of them beyond casual conversation, because, as Oda knows very well, their lives are dangerous.
Anyone close to them is a potential target. More so for Dazai, because he’s a walking goldmine of information /and/ he doesn’t have a clan to back him up as protection.+
Anyone close to them is a potential target. More so for Dazai, because he’s a walking goldmine of information /and/ he doesn’t have a clan to back him up as protection.+
When Dazai doesn’t immediately offer more information, Oda lets him simmer for a second before asking, “How did you two meet?”
Suddenly, Dazai regrets bringing up the conversation. Yes, he was hoping for some solid, outsider perspective and maybe some advice but—
/How/ does +
Suddenly, Dazai regrets bringing up the conversation. Yes, he was hoping for some solid, outsider perspective and maybe some advice but—
/How/ does +
he say ‘well it all started when my son brought home his newest conquest but I decided I liked him more so I stole him’ without sounding weird?
Or worse, like a /predator/?
So he goes in a little different of a direction. “I /know/ I shouldn’t get involved with anyone because+
Or worse, like a /predator/?
So he goes in a little different of a direction. “I /know/ I shouldn’t get involved with anyone because+
it’s dangerous, and I /tried/, Oda, I really did but— I just couldn’t stay away.And the more time I spend with him, the more time I /want/ to spend with him, even though I know it’s a bad idea.”
“I assume that /he/—“ Oda shoots him a knowing look, “— is a regular citizen then?”+
“I assume that /he/—“ Oda shoots him a knowing look, “— is a regular citizen then?”+
Dazai nods. He hasn’t researched Chuuya’s background /too/ much— because the power imbalance is already staggeringly high, with their age, height /and/ experience difference, and he’s not keen to make it even /more/ imbalanced— but so far, he’s just a normal college kid.
“Can+
“Can+
you protect him?"
Staring broodily into his drink, he shrugs a little. "I can try."
But that's all he can do.He can't guarantee his protection, and there's only one of him against all of his enemies. There's no telling what might happen, and there is always the possiblity that+
Staring broodily into his drink, he shrugs a little. "I can try."
But that's all he can do.He can't guarantee his protection, and there's only one of him against all of his enemies. There's no telling what might happen, and there is always the possiblity that+
someone, someday, might overpower or outthink Dazai--
And then Chuuya will be the one paying for his actions, in probably dozens of terrible, agonizing ways.
"Does he know? About your past, and what you do?"
Dazai shakes his head. "No, I haven't told him yet. I'm sure Chuuya +
And then Chuuya will be the one paying for his actions, in probably dozens of terrible, agonizing ways.
"Does he know? About your past, and what you do?"
Dazai shakes his head. "No, I haven't told him yet. I'm sure Chuuya +
suspects something, but he hasn't asked yet. If we keep going, I'll tell him eventually, but we're not there yet."
Oda frowns,looking thoughtful,like he's trying to remember something.
When he doesn't answer, Dazai eventually looks up. "What?"
"What did you say his name was?"+
Oda frowns,looking thoughtful,like he's trying to remember something.
When he doesn't answer, Dazai eventually looks up. "What?"
"What did you say his name was?"+
"Chuuya," Dazai answers slowly, instinctively not giving more information than needed. "Why?"
Oda takes another sip, eyebrows furrowed. "I feel like I've heard that name before."
"Well it /is/ somewhat common, so...?"
That seems to satisfy him, because he nods slightly. He +
Oda takes another sip, eyebrows furrowed. "I feel like I've heard that name before."
"Well it /is/ somewhat common, so...?"
That seems to satisfy him, because he nods slightly. He +
still has a distant look in his eye, like he's trying to remember something.
Or maybe he's just thinking hard about what to say, because after a moment, he's saying, "I think that, if you want it and you think the relationship is worth it, then you should tell him about your+
Or maybe he's just thinking hard about what to say, because after a moment, he's saying, "I think that, if you want it and you think the relationship is worth it, then you should tell him about your+
work. It wouldn't be fair for him not to know."
Yeah, that makes sense. Though that's a /difficult/ conversation, one filled with stories that Dazai doesn't particularly want to get into, and he's /pretty/ sure Chuuya won't want him afterwards, once he knows what he does.
What+
Yeah, that makes sense. Though that's a /difficult/ conversation, one filled with stories that Dazai doesn't particularly want to get into, and he's /pretty/ sure Chuuya won't want him afterwards, once he knows what he does.
What+
he's done. How much blood and terror is on his hands.
"Alright, now stop avoiding the question and tell me how you met."
Ah. Oda knows him far too well to let him get away with anything, huh?
Closing his eyes, he takes a sip for courage. He has to play this carefully, +
"Alright, now stop avoiding the question and tell me how you met."
Ah. Oda knows him far too well to let him get away with anything, huh?
Closing his eyes, he takes a sip for courage. He has to play this carefully, +
because if Oda thinks that he's being predatory, he's /not/ afraid to kick his ass, right here in the bar. He's always been protective of kids.
Taking a deep breath, he mumbles something into his glass. It's too low to hear.
"Come again?"
"I /said/, I met him when Shuuji +
Taking a deep breath, he mumbles something into his glass. It's too low to hear.
"Come again?"
"I /said/, I met him when Shuuji +
brought him home."
Silence. Crystal clear, cutting silence, heavy with tension.
"Dazai, how old is he?" Even now, Oda's voice is carefully neutral.
He squeezes his eyes shut. "18.....and a half."
On second thought, he doesn't think adding the half makes his case any better.+
Silence. Crystal clear, cutting silence, heavy with tension.
"Dazai, how old is he?" Even now, Oda's voice is carefully neutral.
He squeezes his eyes shut. "18.....and a half."
On second thought, he doesn't think adding the half makes his case any better.+
"And your son is...dating him?"
Dazai scratches the back of his head. "Well he /was/...but he's not anymore.."
Actually, he doesn't know if that's strictly true. They haven't had that conversation yet, but he's /assuming/ he's stopped talking to Shuuji.
God, he hopes so. That+
Dazai scratches the back of his head. "Well he /was/...but he's not anymore.."
Actually, he doesn't know if that's strictly true. They haven't had that conversation yet, but he's /assuming/ he's stopped talking to Shuuji.
God, he hopes so. That+
would be /really/ awkward, all things considered, and also Shuuji clearly does /not/ know what he's doing.
(Which is almost embarrassing, that his son is apparently such a bad boyfriend--did they actually date, though?-- that it only took a few nice words and a decent kiss to+
(Which is almost embarrassing, that his son is apparently such a bad boyfriend--did they actually date, though?-- that it only took a few nice words and a decent kiss to+
steal his attention.
On second thought, that's probably a good thing, because being a 'good boyfriend' is exactly how he wound up getting someone pregnant at 16.)
Oda stares at him for a moment, expression forcibly blank, and Dazai /swears/ he's about to get dragged out of his+
On second thought, that's probably a good thing, because being a 'good boyfriend' is exactly how he wound up getting someone pregnant at 16.)
Oda stares at him for a moment, expression forcibly blank, and Dazai /swears/ he's about to get dragged out of his+
chair--
Instead, he starts /laughing/.Hard, loudly,like he's just thought of something /hilarious/.
Dazai doesn't know what to think. Has he snapped? Gone off the deep end? He's so mad he's laughing?
Then, in between his laughter: "It's like stealing a boyfriend from a baby!"+
Instead, he starts /laughing/.Hard, loudly,like he's just thought of something /hilarious/.
Dazai doesn't know what to think. Has he snapped? Gone off the deep end? He's so mad he's laughing?
Then, in between his laughter: "It's like stealing a boyfriend from a baby!"+
Dazai glares at him, fighting the growing smile on his face. "It's not that funny."
Wiping his eyes, Oda cackles, "You /stole/ your son's boyfriend and are now having an existential crisis about dating him, it's pretty damn funny."
Okay, yeah, when you put it like /that/, it+
Wiping his eyes, Oda cackles, "You /stole/ your son's boyfriend and are now having an existential crisis about dating him, it's pretty damn funny."
Okay, yeah, when you put it like /that/, it+
is pretty funny.
"Okay, you /have/ to marry him, I can't wait to see the look on Shuuji's face when he sees his new /step-parent/!"
That does Dazai in, and now he's joining, laughing from deep in his chest at the absurdity.
After weeks of tension and nerves, the release +
"Okay, you /have/ to marry him, I can't wait to see the look on Shuuji's face when he sees his new /step-parent/!"
That does Dazai in, and now he's joining, laughing from deep in his chest at the absurdity.
After weeks of tension and nerves, the release +
feels great, like a weight lifted off his chest. For a moment, the rest of the world fades away.
There's no meeting with Kouyou, no stress about his relationship with Chuuya, no idiot son Shuuji, no Rats, nothing.
Just him and Oda, laughing it up at the Lupin like old times.+
There's no meeting with Kouyou, no stress about his relationship with Chuuya, no idiot son Shuuji, no Rats, nothing.
Just him and Oda, laughing it up at the Lupin like old times.+
Eventually they begin to wind down, when they can't breathe anymore. Oda is clutching his stomach while Dazai has his head in both hands, wheezing.
Taking a deep breath that finally feels like it fills him completely, Dazai sighs. "So you don't think it's weird or anything?"+
Taking a deep breath that finally feels like it fills him completely, Dazai sighs. "So you don't think it's weird or anything?"+
Oda shifts on his seat, stretching his spine out and raising his arms overhead. "No, I do think it's weird, /but/ as long as he makes you happy, then I'm happy. I know you'll treat him well, and he's in safe hands."
That... means a lot more to Dazai than Oda probably knows.+
That... means a lot more to Dazai than Oda probably knows.+
There's a lot of people--and even himself, most of the time--who believe that Dazai destroys and corrupts everything he touches.He's a menace, he's bad news, he's something to run and hide from.
Chuuya being so eager for him /is/ touching, and it does help in some aspects but--+
Chuuya being so eager for him /is/ touching, and it does help in some aspects but--+
He doesn't /know/, not yet,and Dazai doesn't know him well enough to guess his reaction yet. He might never talk to Dazai again,might call him a monster.
But Oda does know him, and the fact that he would say that anything is safe with Dazai, knowing his past...
It means a lot.+
But Oda does know him, and the fact that he would say that anything is safe with Dazai, knowing his past...
It means a lot.+
Before Dazai can figure out what to say, Oda is speaking again, voice soft. "I'm happy for you Dazai. I was worried about you for a long time, but you look better now."
Gentle warmth fills him, like the rising dawn. He smiles genuinely. "I feel better, now."
----- +
Gentle warmth fills him, like the rising dawn. He smiles genuinely. "I feel better, now."
----- +
------- 25 YEARS AGO -------
The problem with these cookie-cutter, residential suburban houses that look like different colored versions of the house that came before and all the ones that come after it--
Is that all those security measures--the locks, the alarm systems, the+
The problem with these cookie-cutter, residential suburban houses that look like different colored versions of the house that came before and all the ones that come after it--
Is that all those security measures--the locks, the alarm systems, the+
stupid, yapping dogs-- are all easily bypassed. It's all just the same, almost too easy.
A snip to the internet line on the side of the house makes the alarm system a dud.
The locks on the door? Useless, because the hinge screws on the knob are only a few centimeters long, and+
A snip to the internet line on the side of the house makes the alarm system a dud.
The locks on the door? Useless, because the hinge screws on the knob are only a few centimeters long, and+
are easily taken care of by one solid kick near the knob.
Mori strolls into the newly-broken into house, guards flanking him on either side. They spread out into the entryway, clearing the room for him.
A dog, medium-sized and snarling, comes at them. It's too afraid to jump+
Mori strolls into the newly-broken into house, guards flanking him on either side. They spread out into the entryway, clearing the room for him.
A dog, medium-sized and snarling, comes at them. It's too afraid to jump+
at them yet, but it's annoying anyways.
"Call off your dog, please," Mori calls out pleasantly into the house, like he hasn't just broken in with a contingent of armed dogs, "or I will put it down."
When an answer isn't immediately forthcoming, Mori motions for the nearest +
"Call off your dog, please," Mori calls out pleasantly into the house, like he hasn't just broken in with a contingent of armed dogs, "or I will put it down."
When an answer isn't immediately forthcoming, Mori motions for the nearest +
guard to draw his gun--
And smiles when a frightened, feminine voice from the darkness calls out a name. The dog goes scampering back into the darkness, tail tucked between it's legs.
The house is nice, Mori muses, for a middle class family. Spacious enough for growth, with+
And smiles when a frightened, feminine voice from the darkness calls out a name. The dog goes scampering back into the darkness, tail tucked between it's legs.
The house is nice, Mori muses, for a middle class family. Spacious enough for growth, with+
just enough shiny appliances and decorations to hint at a /better/ lifestyle.
However, Mori knows one secret about this family, something that has come back to haunt them:
Gen'emon Dazai cannot afford any of this, not even a single one of the atrociously gaudy decorations. +
However, Mori knows one secret about this family, something that has come back to haunt them:
Gen'emon Dazai cannot afford any of this, not even a single one of the atrociously gaudy decorations. +
"You owe me a great debt, Gen'emon," Mori calls out into the darkness. He's not surprised that the man hasn't come out to face him; he's always been a cowardly man, quick to run from anything approaching danger or responsibility.
Which is the exact reason Mori is paying a house+
Which is the exact reason Mori is paying a house+
call. It's not about the debt anymore; it's about the /principle/ of the thing.
The Port Mafia always hunts down it's stray dogs, eventually. You can never run for long.
"Please, I-- I'll get you the money, I swear!"
Mori follows the voice further into the house, into the +
The Port Mafia always hunts down it's stray dogs, eventually. You can never run for long.
"Please, I-- I'll get you the money, I swear!"
Mori follows the voice further into the house, into the +
living room. In it, huddled in a corner like that might save them, are Gen’emon and his young family.
“Even if I did believe you,” Mori sighs, hands in his pockets as he approaches. “It’s far too late for that.”
He crouches down in front of them, his guards following silently+
“Even if I did believe you,” Mori sighs, hands in his pockets as he approaches. “It’s far too late for that.”
He crouches down in front of them, his guards following silently+
behind him. To most, the way Gen’emon clutches his wife and son to his chest might seem desperate, an act of love.
To Mori, it just looks /cowardly/, hiding behind a woman and a child.
Tane Dazai is pretty, even as she chokes back frightened sobs and tears pour down her face.+
To Mori, it just looks /cowardly/, hiding behind a woman and a child.
Tane Dazai is pretty, even as she chokes back frightened sobs and tears pour down her face.+
The child, however—
Stone silent, expression blankly curious as he stares up at Mori with big, dark eyes. His hair looks mussed, like he just woke up.
Mori tilts his head, offering a sharp, heartless smile. “And /you/ must be little Osamu, yes?”
The boy nods slightly.+
Stone silent, expression blankly curious as he stares up at Mori with big, dark eyes. His hair looks mussed, like he just woke up.
Mori tilts his head, offering a sharp, heartless smile. “And /you/ must be little Osamu, yes?”
The boy nods slightly.+
“Tell me, Dazai Osamu— are you afraid?”
Mori knows he’s a frightening man. Between the lab coat, the armed guards, the calculating gaze—
Most people, even grown adults, fear him unless he’s actively trying to appear friendly.
But this child, this tiny, too-skinny child, +
Mori knows he’s a frightening man. Between the lab coat, the armed guards, the calculating gaze—
Most people, even grown adults, fear him unless he’s actively trying to appear friendly.
But this child, this tiny, too-skinny child, +
with eyes too big for his face, merely stares up at Mori and asks, “Should I be?”
Oh, he definitely should.Mori has plans for him.
He’s heard quite a lot about the boy from the people he’s had researching Gen’emon, preparing a thick file for this exact moment.
Wickedly smart,+
Oh, he definitely should.Mori has plans for him.
He’s heard quite a lot about the boy from the people he’s had researching Gen’emon, preparing a thick file for this exact moment.
Wickedly smart,+
so much so that he’s skipped several grades already, with a blank, morbidly curious attitude that often lands him in trouble, and a surprising disinterest and inability to connect with other kids his age.
Smart and isolated and unafraid. The perfect combination, really. It’d be+
Smart and isolated and unafraid. The perfect combination, really. It’d be+
a shame to let that go to waste.
He turns his gaze to Gen’emon. “Did you really think I wouldn’t hunt you down like a stray dog when you started avoiding our calls?
The man gulps, opening his mouth to give some excuse or another, always the lying sack of shit.
Mori holds+
He turns his gaze to Gen’emon. “Did you really think I wouldn’t hunt you down like a stray dog when you started avoiding our calls?
The man gulps, opening his mouth to give some excuse or another, always the lying sack of shit.
Mori holds+
up his hand. He doesn’t want to hear it, and in this neighborhood, police response time is quick. He doesn’t have time to argue.
“I’m going to give you two choices; you can either die, right here, right now. Or—“ Mori’s gaze falls to the boy again, who is finally starting to +
“I’m going to give you two choices; you can either die, right here, right now. Or—“ Mori’s gaze falls to the boy again, who is finally starting to +
look wary. “You can let someone /else/ pay your debt.”
It’s a sad fact that Gen’emon doesn’t even hesitate before nodding frantically. Truly, the most spineless of cowards, the type of person Mori both despises and takes advantage of.
Fathers can rarely be trusted to be +
It’s a sad fact that Gen’emon doesn’t even hesitate before nodding frantically. Truly, the most spineless of cowards, the type of person Mori both despises and takes advantage of.
Fathers can rarely be trusted to be +
what their children need them to be, it seems.
“Right,” Mori mutters, holding out a hand to Osamu. “Come along then.”
Osamu stares at him for a while, unmoving. “I don’t think I want to,” he says eventually, looking over his shoulder to Tane. “Mom, tell him I don’t want to.”+
“Right,” Mori mutters, holding out a hand to Osamu. “Come along then.”
Osamu stares at him for a while, unmoving. “I don’t think I want to,” he says eventually, looking over his shoulder to Tane. “Mom, tell him I don’t want to.”+
Tane clutches her son close, fingers like claws in his sleep shirt. She's hyperventilating by now, so distressed that she can barely do anything except gasp out a useless "please-- no, /not/ him, /please/."
Gen'emon pries her hands off him, forcibly pushing the child out of the+
Gen'emon pries her hands off him, forcibly pushing the child out of the+
circle of his restraining arms. "We'll get him back, Tane," he mutters, pushing Osamu forward. Then he looks up at Mori, and /finally/ that desperate, frantic look in his eye might not only be just for himself. "We can get him back, right? When I pay the debt?"
He should know +
He should know +
better than to trust Mori, but lies taste sweetest when they come from the devil's tongue.
He smiles, letting his face soften. "Of course. You give me what is owed,and I'll return him to you, without a scratch."
Osamu nearly stumbles as he's pushed, but Mori catches him easily+
He smiles, letting his face soften. "Of course. You give me what is owed,and I'll return him to you, without a scratch."
Osamu nearly stumbles as he's pushed, but Mori catches him easily+
with a hand on his elbow. Dismissing the parents entirely, he turns to him. "You,little one,are coming with me. I'm going to be watching over you while your parents go to work. Don't be afraid, I won't let anything harm you."
Osamu doesn't look like he believes him and he looks+
Osamu doesn't look like he believes him and he looks+
over his shoulder at his sobbing mother a few times as he's coaxed away. It looks for a second that he might fight, but when he catches sight of the guns holstered on the thighs of all the guards, he settles into wide-eyed, silent compliance.
Mori nods at his guards as he +
Mori nods at his guards as he +
passes, violet eyes flashing cruelly in the low lighting.
It's been 10 minutes since they arrived. A house across the street has it's lights on, and Mori can see a shadowy figure moving across the window.
In the distance, police sirens. Time's almost up.
He drags Osamu with+
It's been 10 minutes since they arrived. A house across the street has it's lights on, and Mori can see a shadowy figure moving across the window.
In the distance, police sirens. Time's almost up.
He drags Osamu with+
him to the van waiting parked in the driveway. It's black, windowless, no license plates with the windshield darkened too much to easily see inside. Another grunt is sitting in the drivers seat, waiting.
Mori climbs with Osamu into the back, shutting the door behind him as he +
Mori climbs with Osamu into the back, shutting the door behind him as he +
gives the signal to move.
The van reverses smoothly, pulling out into the street and making an easy getaway through the side streets of the residential area.
As they leave,Osamu speaks up quietly, voice dead and all the sadder for it, "I'm not going back, am I?"
Mori pats his+
The van reverses smoothly, pulling out into the street and making an easy getaway through the side streets of the residential area.
As they leave,Osamu speaks up quietly, voice dead and all the sadder for it, "I'm not going back, am I?"
Mori pats his+
head, making a sympathetic noise.Poor thing will have to grow out of this soft, hesitant behavior."There's nothing left for you to go back to."
A few hours later, on the morning news:
"Husband and wife found dead in their house. Cause of death were three gunshots to the chest.+
A few hours later, on the morning news:
"Husband and wife found dead in their house. Cause of death were three gunshots to the chest.+
Initial reports suspect this might be a mafia killing, as both their jaws were shattered before death. No robbery is suspected.
"Their son is nowhere to be found. If you see this little boy, please call the number on the screen.
"He might be in danger."
-------- +
"Their son is nowhere to be found. If you see this little boy, please call the number on the screen.
"He might be in danger."
-------- +
Somehow, they end up falling into a routine. Chuuya doesn't know why he was ever worried about making contact with Dazai, because now that they're /talking/, it's so hard to stop.
He texts Dazai during class, while he's doing his homework, hell, even during the shower. As soon+
He texts Dazai during class, while he's doing his homework, hell, even during the shower. As soon+
he gets that little /ding!/ from his phone, it's like all he can think about is /what'd he say, what'd he say, I have to keep talking to him--/.
Admittedly, he's a bit obsessed. It's probably a good thing that Dazai goes silent for odd hours of the day, leaving him unanswered.+
Admittedly, he's a bit obsessed. It's probably a good thing that Dazai goes silent for odd hours of the day, leaving him unanswered.+
That's probably the only reason he still manages to get all his homework and studying done.
He can't pick up any sense of pattern to Dazai's day though,even after a week straight of texting.Sometimes he'll be talkative during most of the day and silent at night
Sometimes he'll+
He can't pick up any sense of pattern to Dazai's day though,even after a week straight of texting.Sometimes he'll be talkative during most of the day and silent at night
Sometimes he'll+
answer Chuuya's text at 2a.m. and then be silent again until halfway through the day.
Whenever he asks what he's doing or where he went, the response is always the same--
"I was working."
What job starts at 3a.m. and then ends at 2p.m. one day, and then returns to normal +
Whenever he asks what he's doing or where he went, the response is always the same--
"I was working."
What job starts at 3a.m. and then ends at 2p.m. one day, and then returns to normal +
business hours the next day, he doesn't know. Dazai still hasn't offered him any information about his job beyond 'personal protection'.
It does make him kind of worried, even though it might not be his place, because Dazai doesn't seem to have /any/ sort of regular sleeping +
It does make him kind of worried, even though it might not be his place, because Dazai doesn't seem to have /any/ sort of regular sleeping +
schedule, like at all. He's not even sure /when/ he sleeps, and whenever he asks, Dazai brushes it off when a 'I sleep just fine, chibi, but you're sweet to worry.'
It's frustrating, to be honest, because he's seen the dark circles under his eyes, and he doesn't /want/ Dazai to+
It's frustrating, to be honest, because he's seen the dark circles under his eyes, and he doesn't /want/ Dazai to+
text him back too-early in the morning if that means he's losing /sleep/. Chuuya can wait.
Today is one such day. It's later in the evening, and Chuuya is relaxing in bed after a long day of studying and classes. They're starting to gear up for finals week, so his brain feels+
Today is one such day. It's later in the evening, and Chuuya is relaxing in bed after a long day of studying and classes. They're starting to gear up for finals week, so his brain feels+
even more stretched thin than usual.
There's a show on the TV that he's /supposed/ to be watching,but he's ignoring it in favor of smiling stupidly at his conversation with Dazai.
[ CHUUYA ]: send yoko pics :( I want to see her!
[ DADDY🥰💕 ]: I'm starting to suspect you only+
There's a show on the TV that he's /supposed/ to be watching,but he's ignoring it in favor of smiling stupidly at his conversation with Dazai.
[ CHUUYA ]: send yoko pics :( I want to see her!
[ DADDY🥰💕 ]: I'm starting to suspect you only+
want me for one thing.
[ CHUUYA ]: no........
[ CHUUYA ]: two things! you forgot kozo :(
[ DADDY 🥰💕]: I'm hurt.
Before Chuuya can tease him any further, there's a picture coming in and--
/Hello, Dazai/.
He's not even sure if it's /supposed/ to be a teasing picture, +
[ CHUUYA ]: no........
[ CHUUYA ]: two things! you forgot kozo :(
[ DADDY 🥰💕]: I'm hurt.
Before Chuuya can tease him any further, there's a picture coming in and--
/Hello, Dazai/.
He's not even sure if it's /supposed/ to be a teasing picture, +
because Yoko clearly is the focus of the picture, with her face in her signature doggy grin and ears pointed towards the camera. She's even wearing her pink bandana again, which is /so/ adorable Chuuya might just die.
/However/, it's clear that she's nestled between Dazai's +
/However/, it's clear that she's nestled between Dazai's +
thighs, with his long fingers wrapped around her collar to keep her positioned correctly.
The black slacks are his trademark by now, but /above/ that, is just a /teasing/ sliver of stomach.
Either he's not wearing a shirt, or it's rucked up, but either way, Chuuya gets a +
The black slacks are his trademark by now, but /above/ that, is just a /teasing/ sliver of stomach.
Either he's not wearing a shirt, or it's rucked up, but either way, Chuuya gets a +
deliciously teasing glimpse of a triangle of skin just above his waistband.
The lighting is low, but if Chuuya zooms in--and he's /not/ ashamed to admit that he zooms in as far as he can--he can just see the outline of Dazai's muscles and a dusting of hair leading further down.+
The lighting is low, but if Chuuya zooms in--and he's /not/ ashamed to admit that he zooms in as far as he can--he can just see the outline of Dazai's muscles and a dusting of hair leading further down.+
/God/.
With the scene from the kitchen engraved into his mind, Chuuya can easily picture what he looks like /shirtless/, all smooth muscles on display, powerful even when he's relaxed in his seat, the king on his throne, fearsome dog sitting politely between his legs.
Chuuya +
With the scene from the kitchen engraved into his mind, Chuuya can easily picture what he looks like /shirtless/, all smooth muscles on display, powerful even when he's relaxed in his seat, the king on his throne, fearsome dog sitting politely between his legs.
Chuuya +
wants those fingers around his /neck/.
Before he can think of something smooth to say--like 'thanks, now show me her owner'-- another text is coming in.
[ DADDY🥰💕]: She's been staring at the front door a lot lately, I think she misses you.
Awwww. He loves Yoko, what a sweet+
Before he can think of something smooth to say--like 'thanks, now show me her owner'-- another text is coming in.
[ DADDY🥰💕]: She's been staring at the front door a lot lately, I think she misses you.
Awwww. He loves Yoko, what a sweet+
girl. The /best/ dog.
[ CHUUYA ]: tell her I miss her too :(
He has to wait for a few minutes for the next response, long enough that he almost falls asleep to the background noise of the TV.
Then:
[ DADDY🥰💕]: Well, if you miss her so much, why don't you come see her?
+
[ CHUUYA ]: tell her I miss her too :(
He has to wait for a few minutes for the next response, long enough that he almost falls asleep to the background noise of the TV.
Then:
[ DADDY🥰💕]: Well, if you miss her so much, why don't you come see her?
+
Chuuya's heart stops. He's glad that Nikolai passed out on his bed when he arrived back to the dorm two hours ago, because the choked, excited squeaking noise he makes is /embarrassing/.
[ CHUUYA ]: now?
Oh god, he's not ready. He hasn't showered yet, and he's in his pajamas+
[ CHUUYA ]: now?
Oh god, he's not ready. He hasn't showered yet, and he's in his pajamas+
still, the ugly ones at that because he hasn't had the mental strength to do laundry yet and--
[ DADDY🥰💕]: No, not now. After class tomorrow. I'll pick you up.
God, that's a whole day of anticipatory /torture/. He's going to be thinking about it /all day/, he's not going to +
[ DADDY🥰💕]: No, not now. After class tomorrow. I'll pick you up.
God, that's a whole day of anticipatory /torture/. He's going to be thinking about it /all day/, he's not going to +
survive.
But it /does/ give him time to prepare, which he definitely needs.
Yuan asked for her shoes back earlier this week, so all he has are his ratty gym shoes and worn-out sneakers, not something he particularly wants to wear on a /date/.
Things have been a /little/ +
But it /does/ give him time to prepare, which he definitely needs.
Yuan asked for her shoes back earlier this week, so all he has are his ratty gym shoes and worn-out sneakers, not something he particularly wants to wear on a /date/.
Things have been a /little/ +
strained between them ever since the party, but he's pretty sure that's just on his end. Yuan hasn't mentioned Shuuji standing him up once, and based on the rants she's given him on that exact behavior earlier on, he's fairly certain she would have some /choice/ things to say if+
she knew.
Part of him wants to tell her, just to get some vindictive anger in his defense but...
He's convinced she'll bring Shuuji into the matter, which isn't exactly a /problem/, but Chuuya feels like he needs to continue to be on somewhat decent terms with Shuuji to keep+
Part of him wants to tell her, just to get some vindictive anger in his defense but...
He's convinced she'll bring Shuuji into the matter, which isn't exactly a /problem/, but Chuuya feels like he needs to continue to be on somewhat decent terms with Shuuji to keep+
seeing Dazai.
(It's a complicated mess,because when he's /with/ Dazai, it feels like nothing could go wrong, but when he's out of sight, Chuuya feels like he's standing on a house of cards, with a single wrong move meaning he'll never see Dazai again.
And that thought hurts.)+
(It's a complicated mess,because when he's /with/ Dazai, it feels like nothing could go wrong, but when he's out of sight, Chuuya feels like he's standing on a house of cards, with a single wrong move meaning he'll never see Dazai again.
And that thought hurts.)+
So he keeps that information to himself, and while he's /certainly/ not as friendly with Shuuji as he was before, he's not rude or angry. He's polite, a little distant.
Ever since that day, whenever Shuuji flirts with him--badly, he must add-- it makes him feel gross and angry,+
Ever since that day, whenever Shuuji flirts with him--badly, he must add-- it makes him feel gross and angry,+
but he tolerates it because he's not even going to /risk/ losing what is building between him and Dazai.
He can be angry and vengeful later.
(And because of that continued relationship,he /also/ knows that Shuuji has plans all day Friday /and/ Saturday, so he and Dazai will be+
He can be angry and vengeful later.
(And because of that continued relationship,he /also/ knows that Shuuji has plans all day Friday /and/ Saturday, so he and Dazai will be+
alone together.
Interrupted.
For over 36 hours, /if/ the date lasts that long.
Chuuya is so nervous and excited he feels like he's vibrating himself apart with energy.)
He's lucky that his physics professor is actually a decent human being, because he lets them have an open+
Interrupted.
For over 36 hours, /if/ the date lasts that long.
Chuuya is so nervous and excited he feels like he's vibrating himself apart with energy.)
He's lucky that his physics professor is actually a decent human being, because he lets them have an open+
class for studying for finals. Attendance is optional, and Chuuya /did/ plan on going but--
He's got a good grade in physics, he's confident in his knowledge,and now that he has a /date/--
He needs to go /shopping/.
The Uber drive from the night of the party has still set him+
He's got a good grade in physics, he's confident in his knowledge,and now that he has a /date/--
He needs to go /shopping/.
The Uber drive from the night of the party has still set him+
back a lot, but he's been careful ever since. This will set him back even more, but he /refuses/ to see Dazai without at least looking nice.
He might /be/ lower middle class, but he doesn't want to /look/ it. Especially to someone he /likes/.
Taking the train to a nearby +
He might /be/ lower middle class, but he doesn't want to /look/ it. Especially to someone he /likes/.
Taking the train to a nearby +
shopping center, he starts the hunt for a better pair of shoes. He only has a few hours before he has to get back to his other classes, so he has to be quick about it.
He's not exactly sure what he's looking for, but with his budget, he knows he doesn't have /too/ many options.+
He's not exactly sure what he's looking for, but with his budget, he knows he doesn't have /too/ many options.+
Anything with any sort of heel or brand is firmly out of his price range. Even the higher-end sneakers are too much.
He doesn't allow himself to even try on the prettier shoes, because he's not going to give himself the temptation or the chance to feel sad when he inevitably+
He doesn't allow himself to even try on the prettier shoes, because he's not going to give himself the temptation or the chance to feel sad when he inevitably+
has to put it back.
It takes him a while--longer than he anticipated, but still within his limits-- to settle on a pair of nice white sneakers, with little rosy-gold accents. It's understated, casual but still /nice/, better than his current options.
And as he's making his way+
It takes him a while--longer than he anticipated, but still within his limits-- to settle on a pair of nice white sneakers, with little rosy-gold accents. It's understated, casual but still /nice/, better than his current options.
And as he's making his way+
to the cash registers, he sees them--
/Earrings/. Beautiful, tiny little earrings in the shape of the sun, with the same rosy-gold hues and with something opal-colored in the middle.
He has to have them.
The price tag on them makes him wince but--
Fuck it. Kouyou is the +
/Earrings/. Beautiful, tiny little earrings in the shape of the sun, with the same rosy-gold hues and with something opal-colored in the middle.
He has to have them.
The price tag on them makes him wince but--
Fuck it. Kouyou is the +
executive accountant of Mori Financial Services,she can afford to send him a few hundred yen for food if he begs nicely.
He'll just make up some excuse about being so wiped out from finals that he ended up ordering food for too many days in a row. It's fine.
With his purchases+
He'll just make up some excuse about being so wiped out from finals that he ended up ordering food for too many days in a row. It's fine.
With his purchases+
in hand, he makes his way back to campus.
Dazai said he was going to pick him up from class, which means he has to get ready /before/ class. It makes him feel a little awkward and overdressed, considering most everyone--including him-- have been showing up in sweats or casual+
Dazai said he was going to pick him up from class, which means he has to get ready /before/ class. It makes him feel a little awkward and overdressed, considering most everyone--including him-- have been showing up in sweats or casual+
clothing ever since they all got reamed by midterms,but hey, he's not complaining about the excuse to dress up. He's just glad that Yuan isn't in that class with him,because he does /not/ have a reasonable explanation.
He doesn't have enough time to wash his hair in the shower,+
He doesn't have enough time to wash his hair in the shower,+
so he ends up doing a braid on the side and pulling it up into a high ponytail, showing off his neck. He leaves a few strands out to frame his face, elegantly wispy.
Because he's going to class, and he doesn't want to call attention to himself as being the guy who wears +
Because he's going to class, and he doesn't want to call attention to himself as being the guy who wears +
makeup--yes, it's 2020 but some people are /still/ assholes, and he doesn't want to ruin his day by having to deal with some stupid jerk--he ends up just highlighting his natural features. Highlighter, some blush, a little mascara. Nothing fancy, but still makes him feel pretty.+
The earrings are pushed into his jeans pocket for later, so he can put them on as he's leaving.
And because Chuuya is pulling out /all/ the stops today,he wears Dazai's shirt again. He ends up tying the excess in the back with a hairtie, tucking the knot under to create a loose+
And because Chuuya is pulling out /all/ the stops today,he wears Dazai's shirt again. He ends up tying the excess in the back with a hairtie, tucking the knot under to create a loose+
flowing outline that both hides his figure and accentuates how small his waist is. He rolls the sleeves up to his elbows.
Maybe it's unfair, but Chuuya is going to make the whole 'going slow' thing as /difficult/ as possible for Dazai, because it's only fair that /both/ of them+
Maybe it's unfair, but Chuuya is going to make the whole 'going slow' thing as /difficult/ as possible for Dazai, because it's only fair that /both/ of them+
are dying from sexual tension.
He slips on his new shoes, and the outfit is complete. Just in time, too, because class starts in 10 minutes and the building is a 5 minute brisk walk away.
As expected, the hour and a half of class is /agony/. He ends up texting Dazai what +
He slips on his new shoes, and the outfit is complete. Just in time, too, because class starts in 10 minutes and the building is a 5 minute brisk walk away.
As expected, the hour and a half of class is /agony/. He ends up texting Dazai what +
building he's in and what time he gets out.
Truthfully, he barely hears a word the professor says, and he's glad he got into the habit of recording his lectures, because he's going to /have/ to listen to it later.
Then, the class ends.
Despite how painful the wait is, he+
Truthfully, he barely hears a word the professor says, and he's glad he got into the habit of recording his lectures, because he's going to /have/ to listen to it later.
Then, the class ends.
Despite how painful the wait is, he+
stays in his seat as most of the class files out,taking the moment to slip the earrings into his ears and check with his phone camera that he still looks good.
Then he walks out as confidently as he can,dodging around a group of frantically-whispering girls as he looks around--+
Then he walks out as confidently as he can,dodging around a group of frantically-whispering girls as he looks around--+
/There/.
Leaning against the opposite building with one foot propped up against the wall behind him, is Dazai. He's got his hair slicked back today, exposing his forehead. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
The black trench coat he's wearing is remarkably+
Leaning against the opposite building with one foot propped up against the wall behind him, is Dazai. He's got his hair slicked back today, exposing his forehead. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses.
The black trench coat he's wearing is remarkably+
similar to the one Chuuya still has in his closet, but it just makes the dark jeans and loose t-shirt look even better. For once, he's without his signature boots, instead wearing a black pair of sneakers.
There's a single cup of coffee in his hand, balanced on his raised knee.+
There's a single cup of coffee in his hand, balanced on his raised knee.+
When he sees Chuuya, he pushes off the wall, coming over.
(Chuuya tells himself he does /not/ feel a sense of swelling, preening pride when the girls heads follow his progress like a flock of birds watching something shiny, but it's a lie.)
He beams up at Dazai when he gets+
(Chuuya tells himself he does /not/ feel a sense of swelling, preening pride when the girls heads follow his progress like a flock of birds watching something shiny, but it's a lie.)
He beams up at Dazai when he gets+
closer. "Hi," he says, breathlessly.
The smile Dazai graces him with is so soft and fond Chuuya aches with it. "Hello, Chuuya."
Chuuya likes the nicknames, but the unfortunate result is that Dazai says his name so rarely that he feels bowled over and breathless whenever he +
The smile Dazai graces him with is so soft and fond Chuuya aches with it. "Hello, Chuuya."
Chuuya likes the nicknames, but the unfortunate result is that Dazai says his name so rarely that he feels bowled over and breathless whenever he +
/does/ say it.
Long fingers present him with the coffee cup. "For you."
When Chuuya raises an eyebrow at him, Dazai shrugs lightly. "You said you were tired earlier. I already finished my coffee."
How long was he waiting out here, then?
Chuuya takes his cup with a grateful+
Long fingers present him with the coffee cup. "For you."
When Chuuya raises an eyebrow at him, Dazai shrugs lightly. "You said you were tired earlier. I already finished my coffee."
How long was he waiting out here, then?
Chuuya takes his cup with a grateful+
smile, bringing it up to his lips to take a sip--
And nearly chokes on it when Dazai leans down and drops a kiss on his forehead, quick and gentle as a whisper. He can just barely feel the lingering ghost of his smile as Dazai straightens again, hands shoved in his pocket.
He+
And nearly chokes on it when Dazai leans down and drops a kiss on his forehead, quick and gentle as a whisper. He can just barely feel the lingering ghost of his smile as Dazai straightens again, hands shoved in his pocket.
He+
looks distinctly smug at the way he's made Chuuya blush, but he can forgive him for that, simply because of the way the whispering from the girls has gone /dead/ silent.
"Are you ready?"
Chuuya nods, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "Maybe I should drop my books off first, +
"Are you ready?"
Chuuya nods, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "Maybe I should drop my books off first, +
though?"
"I brought the car today, so there's room, if that's what you're worried about," Dazai says, following a step behind him as Chuuya makes his way to the parking lots.
In that case, there's no way Chuuya is going to leave his side for even a second, not now that they're+
"I brought the car today, so there's room, if that's what you're worried about," Dazai says, following a step behind him as Chuuya makes his way to the parking lots.
In that case, there's no way Chuuya is going to leave his side for even a second, not now that they're+
finally together again.
Thankfully, Dazai parked nearby, because his physics professors /insists/ on all his students bringing both of the textbooks to class everyday, so his bag is a bit heavier than usual.
Ever the gentleman, Dazai unlocks the car and opens the door for him+
Thankfully, Dazai parked nearby, because his physics professors /insists/ on all his students bringing both of the textbooks to class everyday, so his bag is a bit heavier than usual.
Ever the gentleman, Dazai unlocks the car and opens the door for him+
first. When Chuuya goes to sling his bag over his shoulder to sit at his feet, Dazai catches it with one hand.
When he looks over his shoulder at him, Dazai just gives him a smile and a murmured, "let me."
It doesn't matter that much, so Chuuya lets the bag go and slides into+
When he looks over his shoulder at him, Dazai just gives him a smile and a murmured, "let me."
It doesn't matter that much, so Chuuya lets the bag go and slides into+
the car. The inside of the car is warm, a pleasant contrast to the slightly-cool air outside.
He watches Dazai cross the front of the car, opening his own door and stuffing Chuuya's bag into the back seat behind him before getting in himself.
Chuuya doesn't really understand+
He watches Dazai cross the front of the car, opening his own door and stuffing Chuuya's bag into the back seat behind him before getting in himself.
Chuuya doesn't really understand+
how watching him back out of the spot then ease onto the road, one palm braced against the steering wheel confidently, is such an erotic experience, but every time they drive, he can feel himself slowly heating up from the sight /alone/.
How is /everything/ he does ridiculously+
How is /everything/ he does ridiculously+
hot and rife with tension? It's like he built with the sole intention of driving out of his mind.
"I was thinking," Dazai starts,his free hand palm-up on the center console and so close,so /tempting/, "that I take you home, and I make you dinner. Sound good?"
Sounds /perfect/.+
"I was thinking," Dazai starts,his free hand palm-up on the center console and so close,so /tempting/, "that I take you home, and I make you dinner. Sound good?"
Sounds /perfect/.+
Chuuya nods, excitement filling him. The pancakes Dazai made him were delicious, and the confident way the man moves in the kitchen is an experience in and of itself, so he's /definitely/ not complaining.
Especially when he gets to spend a whole evening with the dogs /and/ +
Especially when he gets to spend a whole evening with the dogs /and/ +
Dazai.
The drive is quicker this time, mostly because Dazai seems to realize that Chuuya isn't afraid of his driving anymore, and so the speed has increased. The smug curl of Dazai's lips whenever they come out of quick turn, accelerating quickly, is /so/ fucking cute.
Chuuya+
The drive is quicker this time, mostly because Dazai seems to realize that Chuuya isn't afraid of his driving anymore, and so the speed has increased. The smug curl of Dazai's lips whenever they come out of quick turn, accelerating quickly, is /so/ fucking cute.
Chuuya+
wants to kiss it off him, and the idea that he's allowed to do that now makes him giddy, light as air.
For once, Dazai doesn't pull into the garage. He parks the car in the driveway, locking it once they both climb out. Chuuya's bag gets left in the car, for the return drive.+
For once, Dazai doesn't pull into the garage. He parks the car in the driveway, locking it once they both climb out. Chuuya's bag gets left in the car, for the return drive.+
Dazai waves him back as they approach the front door, warning him away as he unlocks it. "Brace yourself," he tells him, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
Before Chuuya can ask /why/, he's throwing open the door and calling out, "Yoko! Look what I brought you!"
Yoko comes+
Before Chuuya can ask /why/, he's throwing open the door and calling out, "Yoko! Look what I brought you!"
Yoko comes+
barreling out like her fur is on fire, making a high-pitched yelping noise of excitement. Chuuya /does/ brace himself, because she's headed straight for his legs and she's big enough to bowl him over easily--
At the last, she swerves into the grass, and she's going so fast that+
At the last, she swerves into the grass, and she's going so fast that+
she actually slips on the grass,going tumbling head over heels in the yard.
"Oh my god, Yoko, are you okay--."
Just as fast, she's flipping back onto her feet, and she's so excited that she runs circles around him, looking like a hyper puppy with how she's jumping and yelping.+
"Oh my god, Yoko, are you okay--."
Just as fast, she's flipping back onto her feet, and she's so excited that she runs circles around him, looking like a hyper puppy with how she's jumping and yelping.+
"Alright,"Chuuya laughs, crouching down so he can get down on her level. "I can't pet you when you're running around like that, slow down."
Yoko nearly ends up bowling him over anyways,because she's pushing into his space, tail wagging so hard her entire body is moving with it.+
Yoko nearly ends up bowling him over anyways,because she's pushing into his space, tail wagging so hard her entire body is moving with it.+
He has to steady himself by grabbing onto her collar, laughing as he tries to dodge the licks she's trying to give his cheek. As sweet as it is,he doesn't want his face to taste like dog slobber or his makeup to be licked off.
"Yeah, I missed you too, pretty girl," he tells her+
"Yeah, I missed you too, pretty girl," he tells her+
fondly, scratching her as fast as his hands will go.
Her only response is to flop on her back, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she demands belly pets.
When Chuuya looks up, Dazai is leaning with his shoulder against the doorway, an achingly soft look in his eyes and tiny+
Her only response is to flop on her back, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she demands belly pets.
When Chuuya looks up, Dazai is leaning with his shoulder against the doorway, an achingly soft look in his eyes and tiny+
crooked smile on his face, like he's not even aware of it.
Kozo is sitting beside him, looking down on his sister with an expression that says 'come /on/, you're embarrassing me', but Chuuya doesn't miss the wave of his tail behind him when he notices Chuuya looking at him.
+
Kozo is sitting beside him, looking down on his sister with an expression that says 'come /on/, you're embarrassing me', but Chuuya doesn't miss the wave of his tail behind him when he notices Chuuya looking at him.
+
Chuuya knows what home feels like. That warm, safe feeling when you finally come back, the place where all the things you love and cherish are. Of knowing that you always have somewhere to return to, at the end of every long day.
Chuuya has never had someone look at him like +
Chuuya has never had someone look at him like +
/their/ home might be living and breathing and calls itself by his name.
"Are you coming inside?" Dazai asks, tilting his head towards the open door. His smile grows with a small snort. "Or are you going to stay out here all night, now that you've gotten what you've came for?"+
"Are you coming inside?" Dazai asks, tilting his head towards the open door. His smile grows with a small snort. "Or are you going to stay out here all night, now that you've gotten what you've came for?"+
With a conspiratorial scratch to Yoko's belly, he pretends to think about it,internally laughing at the way Dazai's expression begins to melt into something mock-offended. It's so fun to play with him.
"Well," he says eventually, "I /guess/ I can grace you with my presence for+
"Well," he says eventually, "I /guess/ I can grace you with my presence for+
a while longer."
Watching him as he stands up and brushes the dog fur off his pants, Dazai says with a hint of amusement, "I'm honored, truly."
Kozo greets him with a sniff when he gets close enough, doing his customary head-to-toe inspection. He's not nearly as excitable as +
Watching him as he stands up and brushes the dog fur off his pants, Dazai says with a hint of amusement, "I'm honored, truly."
Kozo greets him with a sniff when he gets close enough, doing his customary head-to-toe inspection. He's not nearly as excitable as +
Yoko is, but he does offer him a few licks on his hands, and his tail sways steadily behind him.
When he's satisfied, Kozo turns around and leads the way back inside. Yoko starts to follow before stopping abruptly, watching Chuuya closely, like he might leave without saying+
When he's satisfied, Kozo turns around and leads the way back inside. Yoko starts to follow before stopping abruptly, watching Chuuya closely, like he might leave without saying+
goodbye when she's not watching.
Dazai lets him enter first, and the presence of him at his back is like a physical thing, warm and heavy and charged. Almost like they're on the bike again, except this time, they know each other better, slowly growing more intertwined with +
Dazai lets him enter first, and the presence of him at his back is like a physical thing, warm and heavy and charged. Almost like they're on the bike again, except this time, they know each other better, slowly growing more intertwined with +
each meeting.
Of course, now all that heat is backed by the knowledge that Dazai /self-admitted/ he was desperate for Chuuya, the knowledge of what he /feels/ like and the desire to know more--
And the frustration that comes with knowing Dazai will probably deny his attempts+
Of course, now all that heat is backed by the knowledge that Dazai /self-admitted/ he was desperate for Chuuya, the knowledge of what he /feels/ like and the desire to know more--
And the frustration that comes with knowing Dazai will probably deny his attempts+
to go /further/, because he wants to go /slowly/ with him.
Even if they’re alone, in Dazai’s house, on a date.
They kick their shoes off, padding into the living room. The dogs follow diligently.
“Are you hungry now? It’ll take about half an hour to make.”
Considering that+
Even if they’re alone, in Dazai’s house, on a date.
They kick their shoes off, padding into the living room. The dogs follow diligently.
“Are you hungry now? It’ll take about half an hour to make.”
Considering that+
Chuuya hasn’t eaten anything all day because he was too excited, yes, he is hungry now. Besides, the faster they eat, then the more time they have to spend together, right? He nods.
Dazai leads the way to the kitchen, and Chuuya follows closely after.
The way he immediately +
Dazai leads the way to the kitchen, and Chuuya follows closely after.
The way he immediately +
pulls out ingredients from the fridge with confidence shouldn’t be as appealing as it is.
“Wine?” He offers, reaching up to pull down a glass.
Chuuya’s mouth waters. Dazai has been spoiling him with rich, expensive wines and he is /not/ complaining. He can barely even +
“Wine?” He offers, reaching up to pull down a glass.
Chuuya’s mouth waters. Dazai has been spoiling him with rich, expensive wines and he is /not/ complaining. He can barely even +
remember what those cheap connivence store wines tasted like. “Yes, please.”
The glass is set in front of him, and the wine Dazai opens and pours for him is dark, a lustful red, and smells like heaven on his tongue.
When Dazai doesn’t get his own glass out, Chuuya raises an+
The glass is set in front of him, and the wine Dazai opens and pours for him is dark, a lustful red, and smells like heaven on his tongue.
When Dazai doesn’t get his own glass out, Chuuya raises an+
eyebrow at him, swirling his glass absently. “Are you going to drink anything?”
He’s noticed Dazai isn’t really a fan of wine—which begs the question on why his house is stocked with it— but he /loves/ whiskey.
Dazai hums. “No; I want to be clearheaded for this.”
For /what/?+
He’s noticed Dazai isn’t really a fan of wine—which begs the question on why his house is stocked with it— but he /loves/ whiskey.
Dazai hums. “No; I want to be clearheaded for this.”
For /what/?+
When Chuuya asks that exact question,all he gets is a cryptic smile and the flash of a knife as Dazai pulls it out of the block.
He’s making beef stir fry with soba noodles, and his confidence with a knife is /criminal/. Smooth, sharp, short slices, all looking effortless, like+
He’s making beef stir fry with soba noodles, and his confidence with a knife is /criminal/. Smooth, sharp, short slices, all looking effortless, like+
he was born with a knife in hand. He doesn’t waver once, and all his cuts look nearly the exact same size and shape.
It’s almost like the knife is an extension of his body, as natural to him as his own hand.
Like most things about Dazai, it’s surprisingly attractive.+
It’s almost like the knife is an extension of his body, as natural to him as his own hand.
Like most things about Dazai, it’s surprisingly attractive.+
(At this point, maybe not so surprising.)
When his wine has had enough time to breathe, he takes a long, slow sip, savoring the taste of heat and decadence on his tongue. It settles slowly in his belly, and he can’t tell if the growing heat there is from him steadily draining +
When his wine has had enough time to breathe, he takes a long, slow sip, savoring the taste of heat and decadence on his tongue. It settles slowly in his belly, and he can’t tell if the growing heat there is from him steadily draining +
his first glass of wine—
Or watching the way Dazai scrapes his knife against lip of the pan, cleaning it.
“When do your finals start?” Dazai asks, casually curious as he starts to mix the sauce together.
Leaning his cheek on his hand, Chuuya watches him. “Mm, not next week,+
Or watching the way Dazai scrapes his knife against lip of the pan, cleaning it.
“When do your finals start?” Dazai asks, casually curious as he starts to mix the sauce together.
Leaning his cheek on his hand, Chuuya watches him. “Mm, not next week,+
but the week after.”
Most of his classes only meet twice more before the day of the final. His professors have offered as much guidance as they can, but it’s all coming to a head soon. Sink or swim, as they say.
Pass or fail.
And for him? Failing might mean losing his+
Most of his classes only meet twice more before the day of the final. His professors have offered as much guidance as they can, but it’s all coming to a head soon. Sink or swim, as they say.
Pass or fail.
And for him? Failing might mean losing his+
scholarships or his spot at Keio entirely.
“You must be stressed,” Dazai murmurs, shooting him a slightly sympathetic glance. The pot of noodles he has is starting to boil, steam filling the air.
Yeah, he’s stressed. He’s done everything he can, and kept his grades up but—+
“You must be stressed,” Dazai murmurs, shooting him a slightly sympathetic glance. The pot of noodles he has is starting to boil, steam filling the air.
Yeah, he’s stressed. He’s done everything he can, and kept his grades up but—+
The tests are never easy, and if he tanks them too hard, well—
Like he said, pass or fail.
He finishes off his first glass of wine with a long swallow. Maybe he should wait to pour himself another one, but he doesn’t feel anything besides a glowing sense of warmth, so it’s +
Like he said, pass or fail.
He finishes off his first glass of wine with a long swallow. Maybe he should wait to pour himself another one, but he doesn’t feel anything besides a glowing sense of warmth, so it’s +
probably fine.
Besides, that gives him a /great/ excuse to walk around the counter to Dazai’s side of the kitchen. “Yeah, it’s pretty stressful.”
Thankfully, Dazai left the bottle open on the counter, so it’s easy to pour himself another glass, just as full as the first. +
Besides, that gives him a /great/ excuse to walk around the counter to Dazai’s side of the kitchen. “Yeah, it’s pretty stressful.”
Thankfully, Dazai left the bottle open on the counter, so it’s easy to pour himself another glass, just as full as the first. +
“I think you can help me out with that though.”
All the necessary vegetables are cut, so Dazai takes a moment to rinse off his knife quickly and wash his hands from any juices. “Oh? How can I help you?”
Stepping closer, Chuuya stares up at him. Dazai doesn’t retreat, taking+
All the necessary vegetables are cut, so Dazai takes a moment to rinse off his knife quickly and wash his hands from any juices. “Oh? How can I help you?”
Stepping closer, Chuuya stares up at him. Dazai doesn’t retreat, taking+
a clean rag to dry his hands with. His eyes are dark, welcoming.
He’s practiced saying this many times, so often that the words started to lose meaning, until he started saying them in his dreams.
Still, they come out slightly breathy and hesitant as he says, “kiss me?” +
He’s practiced saying this many times, so often that the words started to lose meaning, until he started saying them in his dreams.
Still, they come out slightly breathy and hesitant as he says, “kiss me?” +
Tension crackles between them as they stare eachother down, waiting for the other to give in first. The time it takes for Dazai to finish drying his hands feels like it takes forever.
Chuuya’s half convinced he draws it out on purpose, but it’s all worth it when the towel is +
Chuuya’s half convinced he draws it out on purpose, but it’s all worth it when the towel is +
tossed onto the counter, and Dazai is reaching out for him with a murmured, “come here then, beautiful.”
Surrendering to Dazai feels like fate, like inevitability, and the sensation of rough fingertips brushing over his jaw, sliding downwards to cup his cheeks with both hands,+
Surrendering to Dazai feels like fate, like inevitability, and the sensation of rough fingertips brushing over his jaw, sliding downwards to cup his cheeks with both hands,+
tilting his head up as he leans downward—
It feels like the very air in his lungs, sweet relief.
The kiss Dazai captures him in is slow, languid. It’s enjoyment of the simplest kind, the slide of their lips together, the way that Dazai’s breath washes warm over his tongue.+
It feels like the very air in his lungs, sweet relief.
The kiss Dazai captures him in is slow, languid. It’s enjoyment of the simplest kind, the slide of their lips together, the way that Dazai’s breath washes warm over his tongue.+
At some point, Chuuya’s hands wander up to wind up in his hair, running his nails lightly over the growing undercut, feeling a spark when Dazai’s breath hitches audibly with a shiver.
Large thumbs stroke over his cheekbones, roughly the same rhythm he’s kissing Chuuya with. His+
Large thumbs stroke over his cheekbones, roughly the same rhythm he’s kissing Chuuya with. His+
fingers are long enough that they reach Chuuya’s neck easily.He shudders when Dazai lightly flicks one of his earrings, tickling him.
“I like these,” Dazai hums, pulling back just far enough that he can speak into Chuuya’s mouth, “very pretty.”
Then he’s shifting down, pulling+
“I like these,” Dazai hums, pulling back just far enough that he can speak into Chuuya’s mouth, “very pretty.”
Then he’s shifting down, pulling+
his bottom lip into his mouth on one slow /suck/, the suction of his mouth so tempting it’s nearly unbearable.
For a long time, he holds Chuuya there, running his tongue over his captured lip or nibbling on it lightly, until Chuuya feels like he’s stretching thin under the +
For a long time, he holds Chuuya there, running his tongue over his captured lip or nibbling on it lightly, until Chuuya feels like he’s stretching thin under the +
sensations, the throb of his lip matching the rushing of the heat in his veins.
Teeth sink into his lip, almost roughly enough to hurt as Dazai pulls back, taking his lip with him until the stretch is /almost/ painful, drawing out a small, hitched noise.
When Dazai lets him go+
Teeth sink into his lip, almost roughly enough to hurt as Dazai pulls back, taking his lip with him until the stretch is /almost/ painful, drawing out a small, hitched noise.
When Dazai lets him go+
his lip returns to its place with a wet pop.
With half-lidded eyes, Chuuya glares up at him half-heartedly, wondering /why/ exactly he stopped kissing him.
“Don’t want to burn our food, do we?”
He pouts, but moves out of his way so Dazai can take the noodles out of their+
With half-lidded eyes, Chuuya glares up at him half-heartedly, wondering /why/ exactly he stopped kissing him.
“Don’t want to burn our food, do we?”
He pouts, but moves out of his way so Dazai can take the noodles out of their+
pot and replaces the beef in the pan with the vegetables. The meat gets set aside on a plate to wait.
Chuuya’s wineglass, forgotten on the counter, returns to his hand as he takes another swallow. It tastes almost sour now, in comparison to the taste of Dazai on his tongue. +
Chuuya’s wineglass, forgotten on the counter, returns to his hand as he takes another swallow. It tastes almost sour now, in comparison to the taste of Dazai on his tongue. +
It’s starting to get hot in here.
He’s nice enough to wait until Dazai looks like he’s finished with the next step to aim his most pleading look at him with another, “kiss me, please.”
Dazai’s expression is knowing and a little smug, but he gives in again, always weak when+
He’s nice enough to wait until Dazai looks like he’s finished with the next step to aim his most pleading look at him with another, “kiss me, please.”
Dazai’s expression is knowing and a little smug, but he gives in again, always weak when+
Chuuya uses his manners.
This time, the kiss doesn’t last as long before Dazai is leaning lower, bending down. His fingers find the back of Chuuya’s thighs and he hesitates for just a moment, giving him the opportunity to protest, before he’s pulling /up/, lifting him. +
This time, the kiss doesn’t last as long before Dazai is leaning lower, bending down. His fingers find the back of Chuuya’s thighs and he hesitates for just a moment, giving him the opportunity to protest, before he’s pulling /up/, lifting him. +
With a startled noise, Chuuya grips his shoulders tightly, thighs clamping around his hips. Dazai is deliciously solid under him, his arms not so much as trembling as he supports his weight.
They don’t stay there for long though, because Dazai is turning in one smooth motion+
They don’t stay there for long though, because Dazai is turning in one smooth motion+
and depositing him on the empty counter a little ways from the stove.
Chuuya has been between Dazai’s thighs before,and he /liked/ how secure that felt, how safe it felt to be cradled between them, how small. But he’s just now realizing—
He likes Dazai between his legs /more/.+
Chuuya has been between Dazai’s thighs before,and he /liked/ how secure that felt, how safe it felt to be cradled between them, how small. But he’s just now realizing—
He likes Dazai between his legs /more/.+
They’re nearly the same height like this, and Dazai’s waist slots naturally between his knees, his middle thick with muscle. Just underneath, Chuuya can feel the swell of his hips and his knees hook over them easily.
The kiss still manages to be slow, even as it deepens, +
The kiss still manages to be slow, even as it deepens, +
so slow that Chuuya feels drugged by it, his entire existence hanging onto every slide of Dazai’s lips, the brush of his tongue, the teasing edge of his teeth.
It doesn’t feel urgent, like the kiss at the market. It feels all-encompassing, world changing.
When Dazai pulls+
It doesn’t feel urgent, like the kiss at the market. It feels all-encompassing, world changing.
When Dazai pulls+
away this time, Chuuya makes a soft, disappointed noise, trying to hook his ankles behind Dazai’s thighs to keep him in place.
The way Dazai pushes his knee open further, spreading his thighs wider to give himself room to pull away, unexpectedly sends a flash of heat pouring+
The way Dazai pushes his knee open further, spreading his thighs wider to give himself room to pull away, unexpectedly sends a flash of heat pouring+
down his spine.
“Quiet, troublemaker. I know you’re trying to distract me, and it’s not going to work.”
Thé pout is instinctive, his lower lip jutting out childishly. It’s not fair. Chuuya is /more/ than happy to skip dinner in favor of being kissed silly on the counter. +
“Quiet, troublemaker. I know you’re trying to distract me, and it’s not going to work.”
Thé pout is instinctive, his lower lip jutting out childishly. It’s not fair. Chuuya is /more/ than happy to skip dinner in favor of being kissed silly on the counter. +
Dazai snorts fondly, stirring the vegetables in the pot. They smell delicious, even better once he re-adds the meat and pours the sauce in to simmer. “Put that away, before I bite it again.”
The lip juts out further, and now Chuuya’s just being a /brat/.
After a moment though+
The lip juts out further, and now Chuuya’s just being a /brat/.
After a moment though+
he gives in, raising his wineglass to his lips for another drink. The alcohol hits his stomach with intoxicating warmth, and his heart feels almost sluggish in his chest, like it’s struggling to pump molten lava through his veins instead of blood. It’s so hot in here, the +
combination of the wine, Dazai, and the cooking food nearby setting him on fire.
Reaching up, he undoes a single button on his shirt to give himself a little more breathing room. He misses the way the action makes Dazai tense, hands tightening and jaw clenching.
Of course, the+
Reaching up, he undoes a single button on his shirt to give himself a little more breathing room. He misses the way the action makes Dazai tense, hands tightening and jaw clenching.
Of course, the+
unintended result of the alcohol— he’s pouring his third glass now, and although he doesn’t feel tipsy, he’s definitely warm and a little bit lightheaded— is that it makes him /bold/. “And what if I /want/ you to bite me?”
Dazai hums, looking thoughtful as he gives the pan a+
Dazai hums, looking thoughtful as he gives the pan a+
final stir, dumping the contents into a large bowl afterwards. “Then I suppose you’ll have to be good for me.”
Batting his eyelashes, Chuuya agrees, “I can do that. I can be good. I can be /very/ good for you.”
(Dazai is glad he decided not to drink, because the little +
Batting his eyelashes, Chuuya agrees, “I can do that. I can be good. I can be /very/ good for you.”
(Dazai is glad he decided not to drink, because the little +
troublemaker perched on his counter looking delightfully flushed and eager, so pretty while wearing /his/ shirt, promising to be good for him with those big, shiny blue eyes—
Never makes it /easy/ for him. His patience and self-control are stretching dangerously thin.)+
Never makes it /easy/ for him. His patience and self-control are stretching dangerously thin.)+
“Is that so?”
Chuuya nods empathetically, his feet swinging a little in the air. Anticipation is pooling inside him, like liquid energy, making him hyper aware of Dazai’s every movement, the subtle flex and roll of his muscles underneath his shirt.
He lets his eyes drop, +
Chuuya nods empathetically, his feet swinging a little in the air. Anticipation is pooling inside him, like liquid energy, making him hyper aware of Dazai’s every movement, the subtle flex and roll of his muscles underneath his shirt.
He lets his eyes drop, +
checking out Dazai in a move that’s a little /too/ obvious, not that he notices. He’s too busy wondering how good he has to be to get /that/, eyes wandering over his crotch.
“Prove it, then,” Dazai says, and before Chuuya can say that he’ll do anything he wants to prove it—+
“Prove it, then,” Dazai says, and before Chuuya can say that he’ll do anything he wants to prove it—+
There’s a bowl being dropped into his hand, chopsticks buried beneath the deliciously fragrant food.
“Eat,” Dazai says, voice hardening a little. An order, even if a subtle one.
Chuuya doesn’t argue, because his stomach is growling, reminding him how hungry he is. After +
“Eat,” Dazai says, voice hardening a little. An order, even if a subtle one.
Chuuya doesn’t argue, because his stomach is growling, reminding him how hungry he is. After +
another sip of his wine, he digs in. When the flavors burst over his tongue, hot and savory, he gives an unconscious, happy little wiggle, making a satisfied noise. It’s /so/ good.
Dazai watches him eat, feeling a swelling surge of pride and self-satisfaction, because he +
Dazai watches him eat, feeling a swelling surge of pride and self-satisfaction, because he +
clearly likes it. He looks like he was pretty hungry, taking big bites and closing his eyes in pleasure.
For a moment, there’s nothing but the sounds of eating in the kitchen, the click of chopsticks against ceramic.
Chuuya makes it about halfway through his bowl before he +
For a moment, there’s nothing but the sounds of eating in the kitchen, the click of chopsticks against ceramic.
Chuuya makes it about halfway through his bowl before he +
starts to slow down, his belly turning comfortably full. He takes another swallow of wine to top it off, sighing at how good it tastes, how good it feels.
Now that he’s had /one/ satiated, he feels a warm, heavy, almost-sleepy desire for more, centering in his middle and +
Now that he’s had /one/ satiated, he feels a warm, heavy, almost-sleepy desire for more, centering in his middle and +
radiating outward in thick waves.
He goes back to eyeing Dazai, watching the elegant way he lifts bites to his mouth. He’s a slower eater than Chuuya is, but he swears he’s drawing it out on purpose because he can feel Chuuya watching him.
At one point, he even tilts his+
He goes back to eyeing Dazai, watching the elegant way he lifts bites to his mouth. He’s a slower eater than Chuuya is, but he swears he’s drawing it out on purpose because he can feel Chuuya watching him.
At one point, he even tilts his+
head back, offering Chuuya a view of his throat bobbing as he swallows, something so unexpectedly attractive that Chuuya squirms with it.
Despite everything, he manages to stay quiet and patient as Dazai polishes off his entire bowl. He takes sips from his wine— the third +
Despite everything, he manages to stay quiet and patient as Dazai polishes off his entire bowl. He takes sips from his wine— the third +
glass is nearly gone by now, and he’s weighing the desire for more versus the knowledge that if he gets anything remotely close to drunk, Dazai probably won’t touch him— and the occasional bite from the remaining stir fry in his own bowl.
“Are you done?”
Chuuya nods, going+
“Are you done?”
Chuuya nods, going+
to hop off the counter so he can wash their bowls. Cleaning is the least he can do, after that delicious meal of food /and/ watching Dazai cook for him.
But fingers touch his knee, gaining his attention.
“Stay,” Dazai murmurs, plucking the bowl out of his hands easily. +
But fingers touch his knee, gaining his attention.
“Stay,” Dazai murmurs, plucking the bowl out of his hands easily. +
With quick movements, he’s dumping the rest of Chuuya’s bowl in the trash and putting them both in the sink to soak while he takes the rest of the food and packs it away.
“But I wanted to help,” Chuuya mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. It feels wrong to be sitting here+
“But I wanted to help,” Chuuya mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. It feels wrong to be sitting here+
while Dazai does all the work.
“You /are/ helping, beautiful,” Dazai tells him, shooting him a cheesy grin as he empties the pan. “You’re being very motivating right now.”
Oh. He can’t help the heat that crawls into his face, and the sip of wine he takes to cover it up only+
“You /are/ helping, beautiful,” Dazai tells him, shooting him a cheesy grin as he empties the pan. “You’re being very motivating right now.”
Oh. He can’t help the heat that crawls into his face, and the sip of wine he takes to cover it up only+
seems to make it worse.
Waiting for Dazai to finish is like torture, watching him work while he’s not more than a few feet away and not being able to /touch/ him.
By the time he closes the fridge with the leftovers safely locked inside, Chuuya is aching for him, for just a+
Waiting for Dazai to finish is like torture, watching him work while he’s not more than a few feet away and not being able to /touch/ him.
By the time he closes the fridge with the leftovers safely locked inside, Chuuya is aching for him, for just a+
/little/ bit of his attention.
His third glass of wine is finished, but he doesn’t reach for a refill. Instead, he pushes the glass away and fixes Dazai with his poutiest look. “I /told/ you I could be good.”
Dazai washes his hands quickly again— something that Chuuya is +
His third glass of wine is finished, but he doesn’t reach for a refill. Instead, he pushes the glass away and fixes Dazai with his poutiest look. “I /told/ you I could be good.”
Dazai washes his hands quickly again— something that Chuuya is +
grateful for, because he definitely does not want stir fry sauce on any part of him— before coming back over to him.
He places his hands on either side of Chuuya, caging him in. His eyes are dark, intense, staring straight into his soul and setting it on fire as he says, low, +
He places his hands on either side of Chuuya, caging him in. His eyes are dark, intense, staring straight into his soul and setting it on fire as he says, low, +
“You certainly did, didn’t you?”
The air feels thin between them, like the atmosphere on top of a mountain, drawing Chuuya’s lungs tight with anticipation. Every second that they spend staring at eachother just makes the tension tighter, hotter.
Caramel eyes drop to his lips,+
The air feels thin between them, like the atmosphere on top of a mountain, drawing Chuuya’s lungs tight with anticipation. Every second that they spend staring at eachother just makes the tension tighter, hotter.
Caramel eyes drop to his lips,+
flashing brightly before Dazai is whispering across the distance:
“Can I kiss you?”
The first time he asked made Chuuya feel put on the spot, but /this/ time, it’s like gasoline onto a flame, igniting something within him.
He nods, hands reaching—
Dazai meets him halfway. +
“Can I kiss you?”
The first time he asked made Chuuya feel put on the spot, but /this/ time, it’s like gasoline onto a flame, igniting something within him.
He nods, hands reaching—
Dazai meets him halfway. +
It seems he's decided to take a /little/ mercy on Chuuya, because he doesn't make him say it out loud, or tease him with tiny butterfly kisses before kissing him properly.
No, one of his hands is finding the back of his neck, encouraging him to tip his head back so Dazai can+
No, one of his hands is finding the back of his neck, encouraging him to tip his head back so Dazai can+
deepen the kiss instantly, the tip of his tongue sliding over his lower lip in a silent request for access. His /other/ hand finds Chuuya's thigh, sliding up slowly in a brush of teasing friction, hot tingly sensation.
It makes Chuuya gasp, winding his arms around Dazai's neck+
It makes Chuuya gasp, winding his arms around Dazai's neck+
to hold on tightly, dragging him closer.
The hand stops about halfway up, not venturing higher, but just the weight and presence of it has Chuuya hyperaware, every brush of his fingers and slick slide of his tongue electric. He arches against him, instinctively wanting to get+
The hand stops about halfway up, not venturing higher, but just the weight and presence of it has Chuuya hyperaware, every brush of his fingers and slick slide of his tongue electric. He arches against him, instinctively wanting to get+
closer, as close as he can get.
Dazai seems to be along the same mindset,because he's letting go of his neck to grab his other leg,tugging him closer, until their chests are pressed together.
Then, with a whispered "hold on" against his mouth, Dazai's lifting him /up/ again,+
Dazai seems to be along the same mindset,because he's letting go of his neck to grab his other leg,tugging him closer, until their chests are pressed together.
Then, with a whispered "hold on" against his mouth, Dazai's lifting him /up/ again,+
legs wrapped around his waist.
The pressure it puts against his hips makes Chuuya shudder, urgency stirring,his hands fisting in Dazai's hair. He's been picked up before, not very often because he's heavier than he looks with all the muscle--Shuuji tried once and almost dropped+
The pressure it puts against his hips makes Chuuya shudder, urgency stirring,his hands fisting in Dazai's hair. He's been picked up before, not very often because he's heavier than he looks with all the muscle--Shuuji tried once and almost dropped+
him on his head-- and he doesn't /usually/ like it, but the effortless, confident way Dazai hoists him up and keeps him aloft without so much as a stumble, making his way out of the kitchen without the kiss pausing once...
It makes the blood in his veins turn hotter, thicker,+
It makes the blood in his veins turn hotter, thicker,+
rushing through his veins.
He's not even sure where they're going--though some distant part of him is chanting about Dazai's bedroom-- because he's too busy filling his hands with dark hair, scraping his teeth over his tongue until Dazai releases a low rumble that Chuuya feels+
He's not even sure where they're going--though some distant part of him is chanting about Dazai's bedroom-- because he's too busy filling his hands with dark hair, scraping his teeth over his tongue until Dazai releases a low rumble that Chuuya feels+
in his stomach.
Turning around, Dazai lowers them both, and Chuuya hangs on for dear life, instinctively trusting that he won't let him fall, as long as he doesn't let go.
Instead, they tumble backwards onto the couch, and now Chuuya is straddling Dazai's lap and discovering+
Turning around, Dazai lowers them both, and Chuuya hangs on for dear life, instinctively trusting that he won't let him fall, as long as he doesn't let go.
Instead, they tumble backwards onto the couch, and now Chuuya is straddling Dazai's lap and discovering+
that this is a /very/ different way of kissing.
For one, he's never been taller than Dazai, so feeling the strain in his neck as he tips his head back to meet him, jaw working in rhythmic ways, is surprisingly hot. Chuuya bears down over him, and now he's in charge of how hard+
For one, he's never been taller than Dazai, so feeling the strain in his neck as he tips his head back to meet him, jaw working in rhythmic ways, is surprisingly hot. Chuuya bears down over him, and now he's in charge of how hard+
the kiss is, crushing their lips together in his ever-searching need for /more/.
Secondly, now his weight is centered over him, pressing them closer than ever before. So close he can feel the rise and fall of Dazai's chest as their breathing starts to speed up, the shift of his+
Secondly, now his weight is centered over him, pressing them closer than ever before. So close he can feel the rise and fall of Dazai's chest as their breathing starts to speed up, the shift of his+
muscles beneath him as he adjusts their positions slightly.
Of course, the unitended--or perhaps intended--consequence is that Chuuya is sitting /directly/ on Dazai's bulge,and he can feel the heat and firmness growing there even through his pants, making him pant.
And best of+
Of course, the unitended--or perhaps intended--consequence is that Chuuya is sitting /directly/ on Dazai's bulge,and he can feel the heat and firmness growing there even through his pants, making him pant.
And best of+
all--
It frees up Dazai's hands to /wander/.
They find his thighs first, fingers long enough to wrap nearly halfway around. Chuuya tenses instinctively, the hitch of his breath obvious as his focus zeroes in on the way Dazai subtly squeezes and massages the muscle there in +
It frees up Dazai's hands to /wander/.
They find his thighs first, fingers long enough to wrap nearly halfway around. Chuuya tenses instinctively, the hitch of his breath obvious as his focus zeroes in on the way Dazai subtly squeezes and massages the muscle there in +
small waves, the same rhythm he's still kissing him with.
Eventually his hands slide /up/,and god, Chuuya feels like his entire world stalls as fingers get closer, closer, /closer/ to his crotch--
The urgency had built so slowly, so subtly, that he's just now realizing that he+
Eventually his hands slide /up/,and god, Chuuya feels like his entire world stalls as fingers get closer, closer, /closer/ to his crotch--
The urgency had built so slowly, so subtly, that he's just now realizing that he+
is hard in his pants, aching, strung tight after /weeks/ of teasing from Dazai's skillful hands.
He swears, if Dazai stops them /now/, he's actually going to break down in frustrated tears.
Dazai's hands bypass touching him directly, though Chuuya would be surprised if he +
He swears, if Dazai stops them /now/, he's actually going to break down in frustrated tears.
Dazai's hands bypass touching him directly, though Chuuya would be surprised if he +
can't feel him throbbing against his stomach. His hands coast over his hips instead, around his sides, fingertips sliding against the sensitive, exposed skin of his lower back.
Dazai's mouth slides away, and Chuuya is whining immediately, not wanting him to /go/, but he's just+
Dazai's mouth slides away, and Chuuya is whining immediately, not wanting him to /go/, but he's just+
kissing a line over his cheek,down his jaw, finding the beginnings of his neck.
Chuuya never realized how /sensitive/ his neck was before, but every touch of Dazai's lips over his skin feels like it goes directly to his cock, joining the swirling, molten tension in his stomach.+
Chuuya never realized how /sensitive/ his neck was before, but every touch of Dazai's lips over his skin feels like it goes directly to his cock, joining the swirling, molten tension in his stomach.+
"I have to say," Dazai hums against his skin, the vibrations and the husky, rough tone of his voice making Chuuya's mind go /blank/."I do like seeing you in my shirts."
His fingertips creep up, palms sliding over his lower back, warm and pulling him somehow even closer.
Chuuya+
His fingertips creep up, palms sliding over his lower back, warm and pulling him somehow even closer.
Chuuya+
squirms, overwhelmed and starving for more in equal measures, unsure if he wants more of Dazai against his front, or along his back, or his mouth on his neck or kissing him again--
"So pretty, so /tempting/," Dazai murmurs, almost to himself, before scraping his teeth over his+
"So pretty, so /tempting/," Dazai murmurs, almost to himself, before scraping his teeth over his+
pulse point, and the combination of the vibration, the /words/, the hands sliding even further under his shirt--
Chuuya can't help it; he /moans/, soft and hesitant, rolling his hips forward in an instinctive bid for friction. He doesn't even have the presence of mind to be +
Chuuya can't help it; he /moans/, soft and hesitant, rolling his hips forward in an instinctive bid for friction. He doesn't even have the presence of mind to be +
embarrassed about it, because holy /shit/, the double friction of him grinding against Dazai's stomach and then /back/ against the bulge beneath him, feeling the /thick/ outline of Dazai's erection against his ass is /so/ good, he can't help but do it again, a little /harder/.+
"Yeah?" Dazai breathes hotly against his neck, coasting down a little lower,finding a spot that makes Chuuya's toes curl and his eyes roll back in his head and /sucking/ on it. "Do you /like/ it when I talk to you?"
This time, when Chuuya grinds forward, his hands press down at+
This time, when Chuuya grinds forward, his hands press down at+
the same time, increasing the pressure.
"What about if I told you how good you're being right now? How /hot/ it is that you're grinding against me like this, so desperate?"
His face is so hot it must be on fire, and no matter how hard he pants, he can never seem to get enough+
"What about if I told you how good you're being right now? How /hot/ it is that you're grinding against me like this, so desperate?"
His face is so hot it must be on fire, and no matter how hard he pants, he can never seem to get enough+
air. His thoughts have devolved into static, a background noise that means nothing compared to the /hunger/ growing in him, the desire for /more/, harder, /better/.
"The things I could do to you," Dazai muses, nibbling on his collarbone. The other spots he's visited on his neck+
"The things I could do to you," Dazai muses, nibbling on his collarbone. The other spots he's visited on his neck+
throb in time, adding to the growing symphony of sensations in Chuuya's body.
(Should Dazai be leaving him a virtual choker of red marks on Chuuya's neck without asking? Probably not.
But his /is/ just a man, and he's /struggling/ to keep it together, and as long as it doesn't+
(Should Dazai be leaving him a virtual choker of red marks on Chuuya's neck without asking? Probably not.
But his /is/ just a man, and he's /struggling/ to keep it together, and as long as it doesn't+
escalate past /this/— letting Chuuya grind against him with increasingly loud, desperate noises of pleasure— he will consider it a win.
He knows Chuuya would /probably/ let him turn him over and take him apart with his /teeth/, coax all sorts of pretty noises from him as he+
He knows Chuuya would /probably/ let him turn him over and take him apart with his /teeth/, coax all sorts of pretty noises from him as he+
shows him what it’s like to /really/ feel good—
But as much as he /wants/ that— needs it, almost, the pressure of his zipper against his erection growing painful— he knows the /right/ thing to do is to build Chuuya up, slowly, and not overwhelm him all at once.
It’s a good +
But as much as he /wants/ that— needs it, almost, the pressure of his zipper against his erection growing painful— he knows the /right/ thing to do is to build Chuuya up, slowly, and not overwhelm him all at once.
It’s a good +
thing Dazai moved onto marking up his collarbone, because hearing his sweet moans is hard enough, but /tasting/ them would be altogether too much.)
“I could make it /so/ good for you, baby,” he murmurs, sinking his teeth into his collarbone with almost painful intensity, but+
“I could make it /so/ good for you, baby,” he murmurs, sinking his teeth into his collarbone with almost painful intensity, but+
at this point, he could probably draw blood and Chuuya would still moan for him.
Nodding frantically, Chuuya digs his nails into his scalp, holding him as close as he can as he gives another stuttered thrust, pressure building almost too fast for him to keep up with.
He’s not+
Nodding frantically, Chuuya digs his nails into his scalp, holding him as close as he can as he gives another stuttered thrust, pressure building almost too fast for him to keep up with.
He’s not+
even aware of the words that start to pour out of his mouth, too mindless, too far gone—
And they are /almost/ Dazai’s undoing.
“Please, Dazai, fuck— /so/ good, please touch me, I want more, /need/ more, need /you/, please, I promise I’ll be /so/ good for you—.” +
And they are /almost/ Dazai’s undoing.
“Please, Dazai, fuck— /so/ good, please touch me, I want more, /need/ more, need /you/, please, I promise I’ll be /so/ good for you—.” +
With a frustrated, wanting snarl, teeth sink into him so harshly that Chuuya is automatically crying out in loud reaction, jerking. There’s nowhere to go though, because the arms around him are tightening, nails digging in sharply, pinning him in place and dragging him down as+
Dazai’s hips roll /up/, a slow, skilled movement that just illustrates how much control he has over his body—
“Fuck,” Dazai mutters against his skin, his strained tone and the curse making Chuuya shudder again, legs tightening around his hips.
Frantically, he nods again, +
“Fuck,” Dazai mutters against his skin, his strained tone and the curse making Chuuya shudder again, legs tightening around his hips.
Frantically, he nods again, +
meeting the next grind of Dazai’s hips with a messy, uncoordinated thrust over his own. “Yes, /please/.”
With a strength of will that Chuuya can practically feel, Dazai forces himself to still, letting go of his bite with a low groan.
“No,” he mutters, and Chuuya is +
With a strength of will that Chuuya can practically feel, Dazai forces himself to still, letting go of his bite with a low groan.
“No,” he mutters, and Chuuya is +
so frustrated he actually /snarls/, so tempted to bite Dazai in sheer irritation.
Dazai laughs fondly, albeit strained, against his chest, hands sliding back down to find his hips. “You’ll get it, baby, I /promise/,” he croons, helping Chuuya find a faster, harder rhythm.+
Dazai laughs fondly, albeit strained, against his chest, hands sliding back down to find his hips. “You’ll get it, baby, I /promise/,” he croons, helping Chuuya find a faster, harder rhythm.+
“Soon. But for now— I want you to cum for me, just like this.”
/God/, okay, yes, /yes/.
All things considered, Chuuya thinks he’s done /pretty/ well keeping himself controlled, with the way Dazai has been whispering to him and urging him on.
But he can’t deny that the +
/God/, okay, yes, /yes/.
All things considered, Chuuya thinks he’s done /pretty/ well keeping himself controlled, with the way Dazai has been whispering to him and urging him on.
But he can’t deny that the +
tension has been slowly building, winding tighter, threatening to snap with every burst of pleasure on the grind forwards, the shape of Dazai beneath him on the grind /back/, intoxicatingly good.
The pleasure is good, it’s /great/—
But the end is steadily drawing near.+
The pleasure is good, it’s /great/—
But the end is steadily drawing near.+
And the fact that Dazai is actively helping him now— hands on his hips to drag him harder into each grind, the encouraging murmurs on his neck and in his ear, the knowledge that Dazai wants him to be just like this, rocking desperately in his lap— only makes it /better.+
The pleasure builds, searing, scorching,electric,making him tremble and whimper as he fights for more,harder,a little faster, /so/ close, almost there—
Dazai drags him forward one last time, hips pressing up just /slightly/—
And the pressure is enough to tip him over the edge.+
Dazai drags him forward one last time, hips pressing up just /slightly/—
And the pressure is enough to tip him over the edge.+
The orgasm roars over him, way more intense than any he’s ever given himself. He’s mindless with it, helpless to do anything but ride it out with a series of shudders, arching and jerking in place. He’s pretty sure he’s crying out Dazai’s name, eyes squeezed shut as he fights to+
/survive/ the intensity.
By the time he’s done working himself through it, he feels limp and exhausted, panting heavily. He sags in Dazai’s arms, shivering with the comedown—
And Dazai is /right/ there, arms enclosing around his back as he nuzzles the side of his face,+
By the time he’s done working himself through it, he feels limp and exhausted, panting heavily. He sags in Dazai’s arms, shivering with the comedown—
And Dazai is /right/ there, arms enclosing around his back as he nuzzles the side of his face,+
whispering soft kisses over his flushed cheek. “/There/ you are, pretty baby. You did so well for me.”
Chuuya shivers, leaning into his hold. He’s still getting his breath back, and all his muscles feel melted. It’s not /bad/, of course, but somehow the intensity has left him+
Chuuya shivers, leaning into his hold. He’s still getting his breath back, and all his muscles feel melted. It’s not /bad/, of course, but somehow the intensity has left him+
cracked open like an egg, with all his vulnerable insides exposed.
The arms around him help keep him together though,and the kisses pressed along his cheek makes him feel warm, and the teasing way Dazai gently tugs on his earring with his teeth makes him smile gently.
It feels+
The arms around him help keep him together though,and the kisses pressed along his cheek makes him feel warm, and the teasing way Dazai gently tugs on his earring with his teeth makes him smile gently.
It feels+
nice. He’d probably be fine if Dazai pushed him off, now that it’s over, but he can’t deny that sitting here and soaking up the affection doesn’t feel /fantastic/.
Especially as Dazai tells him how good he was, how beautiful he is, /perfect/, his hands like warm weights under +
Especially as Dazai tells him how good he was, how beautiful he is, /perfect/, his hands like warm weights under +
his shirt.
It’s not until he shifts his weight, knees beginning to ache, that he /realizes/—
Dazai is still hard.
It makes sense, because he’s older, more experienced, and therefore much less likely to come in his pants like an inexperienced teenager—the thought of which is+
It’s not until he shifts his weight, knees beginning to ache, that he /realizes/—
Dazai is still hard.
It makes sense, because he’s older, more experienced, and therefore much less likely to come in his pants like an inexperienced teenager—the thought of which is+
starting to make him embarrassed now, even though Dazai explicitly asked him to and then /helped/ him along—but it’s still awkward.
His sex education is /limited/ admittedly—his dad gingerly taught him how to put a condom on a banana and then promptly said that if Chuuya /ever/+
His sex education is /limited/ admittedly—his dad gingerly taught him how to put a condom on a banana and then promptly said that if Chuuya /ever/+
had at all, including watching any pornographic material, he’d be grounded for the rest of forever— but he’s not /so/ uneducated that he doesn’t know that /both/ people are supposed to orgasm.
And that one person orgasming while the other doesn’t means you /failed/.
Feeling+
And that one person orgasming while the other doesn’t means you /failed/.
Feeling+
guilty, he swallows hard. “Do you want me to, ah...” he trails off, unsure of what he’s supposed to offer and eventually lands on a lame, “help you?”
He wiggles his hips for emphasis, and he does /not/ miss the sharp inhale against his cheek, something that makes warmth stir+
He wiggles his hips for emphasis, and he does /not/ miss the sharp inhale against his cheek, something that makes warmth stir+
in his stomach, despite the fact that he /just/ came.
Large hands bracket his waist, and Chuuya does not often feel delicate or /small/, but it’s so easy for him to feel held entirely by Dazai, his very soul cradled in long, capable fingers.
“No,” Dazai murmurs, pulling back+
Large hands bracket his waist, and Chuuya does not often feel delicate or /small/, but it’s so easy for him to feel held entirely by Dazai, his very soul cradled in long, capable fingers.
“No,” Dazai murmurs, pulling back+
and for the first time since they started kissing, Chuuya gets a good look at his face. He’s flushed red with excitement, his once-slicked-back hair wild from where Chuuya had his fingers in it, his pupils huge and dark and focused.
His lips are slightly swollen, dark red from+
His lips are slightly swollen, dark red from+
abuse.
Chuuya wants to kiss him again.
Dazai seems to be thinking along the same lines, because he’s smiling softly as him, lopsided, “but I do want you to kiss me again.”
Chuuya blinks. “But you didn’t...”
Another stroke of his fingers along his spine soothes the +
Chuuya wants to kiss him again.
Dazai seems to be thinking along the same lines, because he’s smiling softly as him, lopsided, “but I do want you to kiss me again.”
Chuuya blinks. “But you didn’t...”
Another stroke of his fingers along his spine soothes the +
mild anxiety strumming along his nerves. “I know,” Dazai hums, brushing his noses lightly over his cheek, “but this was all about you. I wanted /you/ to feel good. I can wait.”
Chuuya is torn about that because on /one/ hand he doesn’t want to leave Dazai hanging, but on the +
Chuuya is torn about that because on /one/ hand he doesn’t want to leave Dazai hanging, but on the +
/other/ hand, he is admittedly nervous about doing something about it. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just—
What if he’s /bad/? Dazai probably doesn’t have high standards, now that he knows he’s a virgin, but what if he fails even /those/?
(Chuuya is not unaware of +
What if he’s /bad/? Dazai probably doesn’t have high standards, now that he knows he’s a virgin, but what if he fails even /those/?
(Chuuya is not unaware of +
the time Shuuji came in /his/ pants after 10 minutes of grinding, and while this situation might be /different/—
He can’t help but draw similarities between them, and he remembers how /disappointing/ that felt.)
“Don’t worry though,” Dazai says, leaning forward to press a +
He can’t help but draw similarities between them, and he remembers how /disappointing/ that felt.)
“Don’t worry though,” Dazai says, leaning forward to press a +
wicked smile against his cheek, /not/ kissing him because Chuuya hasn’t agreed to his most recent ask, “I’ll let you get your hands all over me, next time.”
Just the promise of next time makes relief bubble up in his chest, coaxing his muscles back into relaxation. Dazai has+
Just the promise of next time makes relief bubble up in his chest, coaxing his muscles back into relaxation. Dazai has+
never lied to him before, that he knows of, and he’s always made good on every single promise that he’s made.
If Dazai says there will be a next time; there’ll be a next time.
(Of course, part of Chuuya wants to say ‘give me 15 minutes and next time can be upstairs tonight—‘+
If Dazai says there will be a next time; there’ll be a next time.
(Of course, part of Chuuya wants to say ‘give me 15 minutes and next time can be upstairs tonight—‘+
but he ignores it, for the most part.)
He /does/, however, turn his head to capture Dazai in a kiss, internally preening at the way his smile widens, softens, before dissolving into a gentle kiss.
This kiss is probably the softest one yet today, besides the one on his +
He /does/, however, turn his head to capture Dazai in a kiss, internally preening at the way his smile widens, softens, before dissolving into a gentle kiss.
This kiss is probably the softest one yet today, besides the one on his +
forehead earlier, and somehow it’s even better, filling Chuuya up with a glowing sense of warmth and satisfaction.
They sit there for long enough that Dazai’s erection begins to die and eventually the cooling mess in his underwear makes him squirm uncomfortably.
When he+
They sit there for long enough that Dazai’s erection begins to die and eventually the cooling mess in his underwear makes him squirm uncomfortably.
When he+
notices, Dazai is pulling away from the kiss. Slowly, diving back in for another few long moments, before letting them separate.
“Come on,” he mutters, hands once again finding Chuuya’s thighs, “let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”
Yeah, that sounds good. He nods, expecting to+
“Come on,” he mutters, hands once again finding Chuuya’s thighs, “let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”
Yeah, that sounds good. He nods, expecting to+
be let go or pushed off so he can awkwardly hobble his way to the bathroom, but that's not what happens.
Instead, he feels the roll of Dazai's abs as he sits up, holding them both steady as he leans forward and stands up in one smooth, powerful motion. His hands support his +
Instead, he feels the roll of Dazai's abs as he sits up, holding them both steady as he leans forward and stands up in one smooth, powerful motion. His hands support his +
weight with a firm on his legs, and Chuuya helps him out instinctively by tightening his thighs and wrapping his arms around his neck tightly.
"You don't have to carry me,"he grumbles, even though being carried /is/ nice admittedly, makes him feel small and light and treasured,+
"You don't have to carry me,"he grumbles, even though being carried /is/ nice admittedly, makes him feel small and light and treasured,+
"I can walk."
"I'm sure you can,"Dazai agrees easily, though he continues making his way towards the stairs without making a single move to put him down.
Chuuya's knee's feel too wobbly to actually argue too much, so he just lets out a little huff--more for show than anything+
"I'm sure you can,"Dazai agrees easily, though he continues making his way towards the stairs without making a single move to put him down.
Chuuya's knee's feel too wobbly to actually argue too much, so he just lets out a little huff--more for show than anything+
else-- as he hooks his chin over Dazai's shoulder.
The stairs make him a /little/ nervous but they make it up without incident, and Dazai manages to open his office and bedroom door without jostling him too much. He heads to his bathroom, pushing the door open with his hip.
+
The stairs make him a /little/ nervous but they make it up without incident, and Dazai manages to open his office and bedroom door without jostling him too much. He heads to his bathroom, pushing the door open with his hip.
+
With a surprising amount of gentleness, Dazai is setting him down on the sink counter, making sure he's stable before he pulls back entirely. He steps back out of the circle of Chuuya's legs, and he barely manages to stifle the disappointed noise when the heat of him moves away.+
"I'll get you some new pants," Dazai says before disappearing through the doorway again. He's gone for only a few moments when he's coming back in with a pair of folded sweatpants in his hand.
He sets it on the counter next to him, shrugging. "Sorry, I don't think I have any +
He sets it on the counter next to him, shrugging. "Sorry, I don't think I have any +
underwear that fits you, but I can put your clothes in the wash for you."
That's probably a good idea, Chuuya muses, because his underwear is probably ruined and he came so much that even his jeans are wet with it. Embarrassing, but he's working through it.
He just hopes he+
That's probably a good idea, Chuuya muses, because his underwear is probably ruined and he came so much that even his jeans are wet with it. Embarrassing, but he's working through it.
He just hopes he+
didn't ruin his pants entirely, because he only has 3 pairs, and he can't afford a replacement after he bought these earrings.
It was a good investment though, internally preening at the way Dazai called them pretty, called /him/ pretty, how much he liked his outfit today. +
It was a good investment though, internally preening at the way Dazai called them pretty, called /him/ pretty, how much he liked his outfit today. +
He hesitates before stripping his pants, inexplicably nervous. When he was turned on, he was /all/ about Dazai getting his hands on him, and he didn't feel a speck of nervousness or anxiety regarding his body.
But now he's thinking, maybe the first time Dazai sees him in any+
But now he's thinking, maybe the first time Dazai sees him in any+
sort of undress shouldn’t be when he’s soft and messy?
(Dazai would actually /love/ that, would love to see the mess he made out of Chuuya, but he sees the way he’s hesitating and so he gives him an easy out.)
“I’ll go get some water,” Dazai tells him before disappearing +
(Dazai would actually /love/ that, would love to see the mess he made out of Chuuya, but he sees the way he’s hesitating and so he gives him an easy out.)
“I’ll go get some water,” Dazai tells him before disappearing +
again.
Chuuya takes the time he’s away to struggle out of his jeans, making a face at the way the wet spot slides over his skin. His underwear is even worse, but he manages it without making the mess worse.
Wads of toilet paper clean him up well enough. He would probably +
Chuuya takes the time he’s away to struggle out of his jeans, making a face at the way the wet spot slides over his skin. His underwear is even worse, but he manages it without making the mess worse.
Wads of toilet paper clean him up well enough. He would probably +
benefit from a shower, with how sweaty he got, but after that... /workout/ and the stress of school, and the fact that he /barely/ slept at all last night due to excitement, he’s crashing hard.
The sweatpants feel like heaven on his legs, soft and comforting. Again, he has to+
The sweatpants feel like heaven on his legs, soft and comforting. Again, he has to+
roll the legs up, but it’s practically routine at this point. He takes a moment to loosen the shirt too, because the tie in the back was digging into his back awkwardly.
When he walks out of the bathroom, leaving his dirty clothes in the sink— he did take a moment to wash off+
When he walks out of the bathroom, leaving his dirty clothes in the sink— he did take a moment to wash off+
the worst stains— his legs are still trembling.
Dazai is nowhere to be seen though, and Chuuya /should/ go looking for him, but he’s so tired and the bed looks so inviting...
He did say he would be back, so it’s probably best if Chuuya waits up here, right? And while he+
Dazai is nowhere to be seen though, and Chuuya /should/ go looking for him, but he’s so tired and the bed looks so inviting...
He did say he would be back, so it’s probably best if Chuuya waits up here, right? And while he+
waits, he can just relax on that huge, criminally soft bed, one that’s so much warmer and more comfortable than his bed at the dorms. He remembers waking up in it the first time, and it felt /so/ nice, like sleeping on a cloud.
Yeah, that sounds good.
He lets himself crawl +
Yeah, that sounds good.
He lets himself crawl +
onto the bed, flopping down in the middle—not on a pillow or under the blanket, because he’s not going to /sleep/, he’s just resting.
The comforter smells like Dazai, something warm and musky, comfortingly alive. Body heat and clean sheets, and the smell of someone you like +
The comforter smells like Dazai, something warm and musky, comfortingly alive. Body heat and clean sheets, and the smell of someone you like +
/very/ much.
Turning his head with a small smile, he presses his face into the blankets and lets himself close his eyes.
Just for a moment. Just until Dazai gets back.
(Naturally, Dazai returns 20 minutes later—he took his time, in case the chibi wanted the privacy to +
Turning his head with a small smile, he presses his face into the blankets and lets himself close his eyes.
Just for a moment. Just until Dazai gets back.
(Naturally, Dazai returns 20 minutes later—he took his time, in case the chibi wanted the privacy to +
shower— to find...
Chuuya curled up in the middle of his bed, passed out.
He hesitates, a little unsure of what to do. Neither of them /planned/ for him to stay the night, or even discussed it, so he should probably wake him up so he can take Chuuya home.
Part of him is +
Chuuya curled up in the middle of his bed, passed out.
He hesitates, a little unsure of what to do. Neither of them /planned/ for him to stay the night, or even discussed it, so he should probably wake him up so he can take Chuuya home.
Part of him is +
a /little/ disappointed, because he did want to spend more time with him but—
He noticed the dark circles under his eyes earlier, the subtle yawns he tried to hide behind his hand. Dazai himself never went to college but he knows people who did and he remembers how much finals+
He noticed the dark circles under his eyes earlier, the subtle yawns he tried to hide behind his hand. Dazai himself never went to college but he knows people who did and he remembers how much finals+
took out of them. They looked dead on their feet by the time it was over.
Besides—
He doesn’t have clean clothes anymore, does he? Not that Dazai minds letting him keep his sweats, but he probably wouldn’t enjoy doing the walk of shame back to his dorm in too-big clothing. +
Besides—
He doesn’t have clean clothes anymore, does he? Not that Dazai minds letting him keep his sweats, but he probably wouldn’t enjoy doing the walk of shame back to his dorm in too-big clothing. +
So he can afford to let the little angel sleep for an hour or two while his clothes wash. He doesn’t have the heart to disturb that peaceful expression on his face.
He /does/ however, move him to a comfortable position on the bed. It takes some time and maneuvering to get him+
He /does/ however, move him to a comfortable position on the bed. It takes some time and maneuvering to get him+
up with his head on a pillow and actually covered under the blankets, but it’s worth it to see the way he curls up with a content sigh, hand pushing under the pillow.
Taking the dirty clothes from the bathroom, he puts them in the wash before he feeds the dogs their dinner.+
Taking the dirty clothes from the bathroom, he puts them in the wash before he feeds the dogs their dinner.+
Yoko, for once, is actually first to finish eating and follows him closely back upstairs. She follows him back into the bedroom to check on Chuuya, sitting at the edge of the bed and looking expectantly from him to the bed, tail swishing.
Dazai is discovering that he is /very/+
Dazai is discovering that he is /very/+
weak.
“Fine, you little opportunist,” he mutters lowly, unwilling to wake him up, “get up there then.”
With all the smug satisfaction of someone getting exactly what they wanted, she does. She curls up in front of Chuuya, their heads nearly level.
Another quick trip +
“Fine, you little opportunist,” he mutters lowly, unwilling to wake him up, “get up there then.”
With all the smug satisfaction of someone getting exactly what they wanted, she does. She curls up in front of Chuuya, their heads nearly level.
Another quick trip +
downstairs to check if his jeans need to be washed again—they do, he was wearing /black/ underwear, so the white stains are /pretty/ noticeable.
And then Dazai realizes he has nothing left to occupy his time with, besides something inane like watching a movie or a show.+
And then Dazai realizes he has nothing left to occupy his time with, besides something inane like watching a movie or a show.+
And, well—
He’s tired too, his insomnia has been acting up all week, and while he /could/ take a nap on the couch while he waits, Chuuya looked /so/ warm and inviting, curled up in his bed.
And now they’re... involved, so it wouldn’t be crossing the line, provided Dazai keeps+
He’s tired too, his insomnia has been acting up all week, and while he /could/ take a nap on the couch while he waits, Chuuya looked /so/ warm and inviting, curled up in his bed.
And now they’re... involved, so it wouldn’t be crossing the line, provided Dazai keeps+
his hands to himself.
Besides, it’s /his/ bed, his dog, his—
...Chuuya. His Chuuya?
His /what/ exactly, Dazai doesn’t know yet, but that’s all the logic he needs to convince himself that a /little/ nap would be fine.
He slips into sweatpants too, because he hates outside+
Besides, it’s /his/ bed, his dog, his—
...Chuuya. His Chuuya?
His /what/ exactly, Dazai doesn’t know yet, but that’s all the logic he needs to convince himself that a /little/ nap would be fine.
He slips into sweatpants too, because he hates outside+
clothing in his bed, and slowly, ever-so-carefully, lifts up the comforter and slides inside.
It’s warm underneath, blissfully comforting and it’s like a drug, filling him with an immediate sense of warm, heavy sleepiness.
He barely even thinks before reaching out, sliding his+
It’s warm underneath, blissfully comforting and it’s like a drug, filling him with an immediate sense of warm, heavy sleepiness.
He barely even thinks before reaching out, sliding his+
arm around his wait and carefully pulling him back, fitting his body around the curve of Chuuya’s, basking in the heat.
It’s the easiest Dazai has ever fallen asleep before, not having to struggle or fight for it at all.
So easy, in fact, that he forgets to set an alarm.)
—+
It’s the easiest Dazai has ever fallen asleep before, not having to struggle or fight for it at all.
So easy, in fact, that he forgets to set an alarm.)
—+
The first thing that registers is an all-encompassing warmth, heavy and drugging. It's all around him, dragged in with every breath, making its way through his body sluggishly, rendering him limp and content. It's like a warm weighted blanket, so comfortable that it's dragging +
him back into sleep.
When he tries to move,stretching out his legs, he discovers that that description is a little more accurate than he intitally thought.
There's a solid wall along his back, immovable with sleep. He can't tell exactly what it is,because it's resting over the+
When he tries to move,stretching out his legs, he discovers that that description is a little more accurate than he intitally thought.
There's a solid wall along his back, immovable with sleep. He can't tell exactly what it is,because it's resting over the+
blankets while he's underneath. Probably a dog, he realizes groggily, because of the loud breathing near his ear.
And all over his front, draped over his side, is a warm, breathing wall of heat.
Arms around him, under his head and the other locked over his shoulders, keeping+
And all over his front, draped over his side, is a warm, breathing wall of heat.
Arms around him, under his head and the other locked over his shoulders, keeping+
him in place. A moving chest pressed against his cheek. A leg thrown over his thigh, heavy and drawing his top leg forward into the embrace.
Dazai. Not only sleeping with him, but also cuddling the /shit/ out of him, intertwined so tightly that Chuuya can't tell where he ends+
Dazai. Not only sleeping with him, but also cuddling the /shit/ out of him, intertwined so tightly that Chuuya can't tell where he ends+
and Dazai begins.
One of his arms is trapped between their bodies, but the other is slung over Dazai's waist. It's somehow ended up /beneath/ his shirt, and the slow rise and fall of his breathing makes the muscles in his back press lightly against his palm.
There's breathing+
One of his arms is trapped between their bodies, but the other is slung over Dazai's waist. It's somehow ended up /beneath/ his shirt, and the slow rise and fall of his breathing makes the muscles in his back press lightly against his palm.
There's breathing+
overhead, ruffling his hair.
And as comfortable and /warm/ as it is, as much as he wants to stay and to fall back asleep--
His arm is numb. Like completely numb, actually dead.
He wiggles slowly, trying to get enough space so he can extract his arm without disturbing either+
And as comfortable and /warm/ as it is, as much as he wants to stay and to fall back asleep--
His arm is numb. Like completely numb, actually dead.
He wiggles slowly, trying to get enough space so he can extract his arm without disturbing either+
the dog behind him--Yoko, he's assuming-- or Dazai in front of him.
But as soon as he moves a little too quickly, there's a grumpy, sleepy noise above him, and the arms tighten back again, squishing him against Dazai's chest.
He smothers a smile there. Aw, he's /grumpy/ in the+
But as soon as he moves a little too quickly, there's a grumpy, sleepy noise above him, and the arms tighten back again, squishing him against Dazai's chest.
He smothers a smile there. Aw, he's /grumpy/ in the+
mornings.Surprisingly cute.
Though the weight of him is grounding,comforting, Chuuya /is/ on the verge of being crushed beneath him. Not that he has an exact problem with that, but his arm is so dead it aches, and it's starting to get painful.
He wiggles again, harder, pulling+
Though the weight of him is grounding,comforting, Chuuya /is/ on the verge of being crushed beneath him. Not that he has an exact problem with that, but his arm is so dead it aches, and it's starting to get painful.
He wiggles again, harder, pulling+
on his arm at the same time.
The reaction, this time, is Dazai shifting further on top of him with a croaked, "Noooo.... stop moving so much."
His voice is husky and rough with sleep, deeper than usual. It's almost felt more than heard, a vibrating rumble against Chuuya's +
The reaction, this time, is Dazai shifting further on top of him with a croaked, "Noooo.... stop moving so much."
His voice is husky and rough with sleep, deeper than usual. It's almost felt more than heard, a vibrating rumble against Chuuya's +
chest. It goes straight to his stomach, filling him with a growing sense of warmth and excitement.
He smiles again, because the grumpiness /is/ cute. "My arm is asleep."
"Mm..me too."
The next snore is just a little too exaggerated to be real though.
"My arm is going to +
He smiles again, because the grumpiness /is/ cute. "My arm is asleep."
"Mm..me too."
The next snore is just a little too exaggerated to be real though.
"My arm is going to +
/fall off/."
"Sounds like a personal problem."
"Oh my god," Chuuya laughs, banging his forehead lightly against his chest, "Get off me before I start biting you."
There's a long, /heavy/ silence as Dazai contemplates if it's /worth it/--
Then, with a sigh that sounds like +
"Sounds like a personal problem."
"Oh my god," Chuuya laughs, banging his forehead lightly against his chest, "Get off me before I start biting you."
There's a long, /heavy/ silence as Dazai contemplates if it's /worth it/--
Then, with a sigh that sounds like +
he's being subjected to the most cruel and unusual punishments, he's letting him go and rolling over onto his back. "Chibi is so mean to me," he mutters, though there's a smile in his voice.
Chuuya gapes at him. "I'm mean to you? Look what you did!" His arm is /so/ dead that he+
Chuuya gapes at him. "I'm mean to you? Look what you did!" His arm is /so/ dead that he+
actually has to grab it by the wrist with his /other/ hand so he can shake his limp hand at him. "You were the one cuddling me like I was trying to run away!"
Dazai gives a mock-offended gasp. "I'll have you know that /you/ were cuddling /me/."
(That's not strictly true, +
Dazai gives a mock-offended gasp. "I'll have you know that /you/ were cuddling /me/."
(That's not strictly true, +
because Dazai did reach out first. /However/,he does remember blearily waking up in the middle of the night with a tiny bed-hog squirming and pulling on him, making incoherent whining noises until Dazai pratically draped himself over top of him.
Not that he'll admit to cuddling+
Not that he'll admit to cuddling+
him first, because Chuuya's scandalized gasp is hilarious
He's probably blushing too, thought Dazai still hasn't opened his eyes to check.)
"I did not!"
"No?" Dazai rolls over again, on his side. His eyes are finally opening, revealing brown eyes that are still soft and hazy+
He's probably blushing too, thought Dazai still hasn't opened his eyes to check.)
"I did not!"
"No?" Dazai rolls over again, on his side. His eyes are finally opening, revealing brown eyes that are still soft and hazy+
with sleep. They're welcoming, drawing him in, alight with amusement. The sleep lines still on his face just make it /better/, leaving him with the image of soft, welcoming sleepiness.
Perhaps the most charming part about him, though, is the /bed-head/. It's absolutely crazy,+
Perhaps the most charming part about him, though, is the /bed-head/. It's absolutely crazy,+
strands sticking up wildly in every direction. Whatever product was in it earlier has seem to given up, because the curls have returned.
He looks soft, touchable, sleepy. Chuuya wants to kiss him again.
"My mistake then," Dazai continues, that adorable dimple making an +
He looks soft, touchable, sleepy. Chuuya wants to kiss him again.
"My mistake then," Dazai continues, that adorable dimple making an +
appearance with his growing smile.
Then it occurs to Chuuya: it has to be morning. No light makes it through the blackout curtains, but he feels so rested that it can't be anything but morning. The dark bags under Dazai's eyes have finally eased, which makes him feel satisfied+
Then it occurs to Chuuya: it has to be morning. No light makes it through the blackout curtains, but he feels so rested that it can't be anything but morning. The dark bags under Dazai's eyes have finally eased, which makes him feel satisfied+
in a warm, instinctive way. Like he's taking care of him.
"What time is it?" He mumbles. He doesn't have class today, but he didn't /plan/ to stay the night, and he does have a study session with Yuan planned at noon.
Sure, he could cancel, but then he'd have to come up with+
"What time is it?" He mumbles. He doesn't have class today, but he didn't /plan/ to stay the night, and he does have a study session with Yuan planned at noon.
Sure, he could cancel, but then he'd have to come up with+
a believable excuse, which is not as easy as it sounds with someone as nosy as Yuan.
He also doesn't know exactly /when/ Shuuji will be returning, and he is /not/ chancing him coming home to find him literally in bed with his dad.
Twisting, Dazai slaps blindly at the bedside+
He also doesn't know exactly /when/ Shuuji will be returning, and he is /not/ chancing him coming home to find him literally in bed with his dad.
Twisting, Dazai slaps blindly at the bedside+
table, looking for his phone. When he finds it, he brings it back over, waking the screen.
When he sees the time, he groans, wiping a hand down his face. "I didn't mean to sleep this long," he mutters to himself.
Panic briefly surges through Chuuya. It doesn't /feel/ late, and+
When he sees the time, he groans, wiping a hand down his face. "I didn't mean to sleep this long," he mutters to himself.
Panic briefly surges through Chuuya. It doesn't /feel/ late, and+
his phone isn't blowing up with calls wondering where he is, so he /assumed/ that it was still pretty early in the morning, but Dazai's reaction has him suddenly reconsidering. "What time is it?"
With a sigh, Dazai shuts his phone back off and goes about stretching out his arms+
With a sigh, Dazai shuts his phone back off and goes about stretching out his arms+
and legs. arching his spine. "8 a.m."
Chuuya stares at him. What kind of monster thinks eight in the morning is /late/? No wonder he looks so sleepless all the damn time. He doesn't know how to sleep in!
"You think eight is /late/?"
Dazai hums, shrugging a little. "I have to+
Chuuya stares at him. What kind of monster thinks eight in the morning is /late/? No wonder he looks so sleepless all the damn time. He doesn't know how to sleep in!
"You think eight is /late/?"
Dazai hums, shrugging a little. "I have to+
get up early for work, most days."
That makes /some/ sort of sense, even though he said early that his work usually runs late. So either Dazai is a workaholic, or his work is so busy the man never seems to /stop/.
"Oh. Do you have to work now?" Chuuya asks, frowning. His arm+
That makes /some/ sort of sense, even though he said early that his work usually runs late. So either Dazai is a workaholic, or his work is so busy the man never seems to /stop/.
"Oh. Do you have to work now?" Chuuya asks, frowning. His arm+
is back to fully-functioning, though he squeezes his hand a few times to work out the lingering ache.
"No," Dazai murmurs,reaching over to brush a wisp of hair from Chuuya's face. His ponytail is probably a mess from their /session/ earlier and then sleeping on it.
"All I have+
"No," Dazai murmurs,reaching over to brush a wisp of hair from Chuuya's face. His ponytail is probably a mess from their /session/ earlier and then sleeping on it.
"All I have+
to do right now, is kiss you," he continues.
Chuuya barely lets him get the 'ki--' syllable out before he's crawling over, closing the distance between them.
/Finally/, his hands find that fluffy, wild head of hair and sink in, his world reduced to the big brown eyes that +
Chuuya barely lets him get the 'ki--' syllable out before he's crawling over, closing the distance between them.
/Finally/, his hands find that fluffy, wild head of hair and sink in, his world reduced to the big brown eyes that +
/sparkle/ for him before they close on a kiss.
It’s the softest one yet, slow, unhurried. The goal isn’t to deepen it, and it’s not a prelude to other, more interesting things.
It just /is/, so good Chuuya’s chest aches with it, happiness full to bursting.
Maybe Dazai feels+
It’s the softest one yet, slow, unhurried. The goal isn’t to deepen it, and it’s not a prelude to other, more interesting things.
It just /is/, so good Chuuya’s chest aches with it, happiness full to bursting.
Maybe Dazai feels+
the same way, because he’s drawing him closer, gentle fingertips on his arm, until Chuuya is stretched out on top of him. His elbows on either side of Dazai’s head keeps him up, and lets him play with his hair absently, delighting in the way he shivers beneath him.
Neither of+
Neither of+
them know how long they stay like that.
Eventually Chuuya pulls back, his lips both tingly and half-numb. He takes a moment to suck indulgently on Dazai’s bottom lip, exactly the way he does to him, before whispering, “I have to go soon.”
He opens his eyes, and it’s a mistake+
Eventually Chuuya pulls back, his lips both tingly and half-numb. He takes a moment to suck indulgently on Dazai’s bottom lip, exactly the way he does to him, before whispering, “I have to go soon.”
He opens his eyes, and it’s a mistake+
for his resolve, because Dazai looks so good it’s /unfair/.
Eyes closed, expression relaxed with just a slight tip of a smile. His lashes are long enough that Chuuya can see them against his cheek, and his mouth is wet and shiny with the lingering kisses.
He never realized how+
Eyes closed, expression relaxed with just a slight tip of a smile. His lashes are long enough that Chuuya can see them against his cheek, and his mouth is wet and shiny with the lingering kisses.
He never realized how+
strained Dazai usually looked until all that tension has melted away, leaving him looking like some sleeping angel.
Or maybe the devil, with the tousled hair hiding a pair of wicked horns, because he’s drawing him back down, whispering in a voice that feels sinfully sweet on+
Or maybe the devil, with the tousled hair hiding a pair of wicked horns, because he’s drawing him back down, whispering in a voice that feels sinfully sweet on+
his tongue, “Okay. Just one more, then.”
(It’s not one more. Or two more, or three.
Chuuya doesn’t how many more. Counting means that there will be an /end/, and he doesn’t want to jinx himself. He’s holding on as long as possible, as long as Dazai will let him.)
—— +
(It’s not one more. Or two more, or three.
Chuuya doesn’t how many more. Counting means that there will be an /end/, and he doesn’t want to jinx himself. He’s holding on as long as possible, as long as Dazai will let him.)
—— +
There are... /benefits/ to the relationship he has with Dazai.
(He still hasn’t asked him what /kind/ of relationship it is. Boyfriend feels too strong, since Dazai’s never actually asked him.
Being his boy toy feels a bit degrading and a little weak, considering they’ve+
(He still hasn’t asked him what /kind/ of relationship it is. Boyfriend feels too strong, since Dazai’s never actually asked him.
Being his boy toy feels a bit degrading and a little weak, considering they’ve+
been texting for almost two weeks straight.
‘Dating’ is probably closest, but also inherently disappointing because it implies lack of commitment. The thought of Dazai dating other people makes him want to do something insane, like sink his teeth into him and never let go. +
‘Dating’ is probably closest, but also inherently disappointing because it implies lack of commitment. The thought of Dazai dating other people makes him want to do something insane, like sink his teeth into him and never let go. +
He wants to ask but everytime he thinks about it, he feels /young/ and inexperienced. Like he’s supposed to just /know/ what it is between them, and supposed to be confident in his role.
He’s not, but he /is/ good at pretending. So.)
Obviously Dazai is a benefit in and of +
He’s not, but he /is/ good at pretending. So.)
Obviously Dazai is a benefit in and of +
himself, but Chuuya is not ashamed to admit that /some/ parts of him are more beneficial than others, especially during finals week.
The initial conversation goes like this:
[ CHUUYA ]: ive studied ALL day im so exhausted
[ CHUUYA ]: I haven’t even eaten yet and all I want is+
The initial conversation goes like this:
[ CHUUYA ]: ive studied ALL day im so exhausted
[ CHUUYA ]: I haven’t even eaten yet and all I want is+
that seafood platter from the first dinner we went to 😭 I would die for that dessert right now...
Not only does Dazai not respond, he leave him on /read/.
Chuuya waits patiently for about half an hour before he starts getting /mad/— the stress from finals week has really+
Not only does Dazai not respond, he leave him on /read/.
Chuuya waits patiently for about half an hour before he starts getting /mad/— the stress from finals week has really+
heightened his temper, and he is /quick/ to fly off the handle these days— when he gets a single, incoming text.
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: 20 mins
Twenty minutes til /what/, asshole? Even if the conversation was boring, it’s /rude/ to leave someone on read! Especially the person you are+
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: 20 mins
Twenty minutes til /what/, asshole? Even if the conversation was boring, it’s /rude/ to leave someone on read! Especially the person you are+
kinda-sorta-not-really-but-maybe-someday dating!
Luckily for Dazai, Chuuya still has 5 exercises left to do before he can call it a night, so he decides to take a breather and do those instead of indulging in his temper.
Twenty minutes pass before he knows It and—
A knock.+
Luckily for Dazai, Chuuya still has 5 exercises left to do before he can call it a night, so he decides to take a breather and do those instead of indulging in his temper.
Twenty minutes pass before he knows It and—
A knock.+
Immediately, his heart is jumping in his chest. Panicking, the only thing he can do is stare wide-eyes at the door for a long moment.
Is...is that /him/? Is he here?
Oh god, Chuuya hasn’t showered in over 36 hours, and his hair is a mess, he is not ready to see him—
Another+
Is...is that /him/? Is he here?
Oh god, Chuuya hasn’t showered in over 36 hours, and his hair is a mess, he is not ready to see him—
Another+
knock, this one louder. It sends Chuuya scrambling.
Oh fuck, /okay/, it’s fine, he can’t just /leave/ him out there. He’ll just...
Open the door as little as possible so Dazai doesn’t have to see his ketchup-stained shirt, and send him away.
Easy peasy.
He cracks open the+
Oh fuck, /okay/, it’s fine, he can’t just /leave/ him out there. He’ll just...
Open the door as little as possible so Dazai doesn’t have to see his ketchup-stained shirt, and send him away.
Easy peasy.
He cracks open the+
door, poking his head out with a sheepish smile. The excuse is already on his tongue, ready to roll off—
It’s not Dazai. In fact, it’s no one Chuuya has seen before, plastic bags in hand.
“Are you Nakahara Chuuya?” The person asks, looking down at the receipt they have in +
It’s not Dazai. In fact, it’s no one Chuuya has seen before, plastic bags in hand.
“Are you Nakahara Chuuya?” The person asks, looking down at the receipt they have in +
hand before glancing up at him.
“Yes...?” He agrees hesitantly.
The bag is held out to him. “Delivery for you.”
Taking the bag, he eyes the contents. It’s hard to see through the plastic, but it /looks/ like the logo of the restaurant they went to.
Did Dazai send him+
“Yes...?” He agrees hesitantly.
The bag is held out to him. “Delivery for you.”
Taking the bag, he eyes the contents. It’s hard to see through the plastic, but it /looks/ like the logo of the restaurant they went to.
Did Dazai send him+
food? Without telling him? Without him really even asking?
(Beyond the complaining, but he was just venting he /swears/.)
The delivery person doesn’t wait for a signature or form of payment, taking off down the hallway with a murmured goodnight.
Chuuya takes the bag back+
(Beyond the complaining, but he was just venting he /swears/.)
The delivery person doesn’t wait for a signature or form of payment, taking off down the hallway with a murmured goodnight.
Chuuya takes the bag back+
into his room, locking the door. Most of his desk is taken up by books and clutter, so he —dutifully— relocates all that shit to the floor for future-him to deal with, and sets the bag down.
As soon as he unties the top, he /knows/. It is the food from the restaurant, his same+
As soon as he unties the top, he /knows/. It is the food from the restaurant, his same+
exact order. Minus the wine, which is understandable.
It smells even /better/ than the first time he had it, even though the presentation has been destroyed in the car ride over. He’s not ashamed to say he digs out a piece of shrimp with his bare fingers to soothe his +
It smells even /better/ than the first time he had it, even though the presentation has been destroyed in the car ride over. He’s not ashamed to say he digs out a piece of shrimp with his bare fingers to soothe his +
starving stomach, chewing quickly as he fishes his phone out.
There’s a text:
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: Are you still mad at me for leaving you on read now?
Chuuya flushes, biting down a little too viciously on his shrimp. The fact that Dazai knew he was grumpy without him saying+
There’s a text:
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: Are you still mad at me for leaving you on read now?
Chuuya flushes, biting down a little too viciously on his shrimp. The fact that Dazai knew he was grumpy without him saying+
anything makes him both pleased and embarrassed.
[ CHUUYA ]: I wasn’t mad......
Dazai’s gotten a lot better at texting over the past couple weeks. He understands most of the lingo and the meanings behind emojis. He was always a good texter but now it feels like they’re +
[ CHUUYA ]: I wasn’t mad......
Dazai’s gotten a lot better at texting over the past couple weeks. He understands most of the lingo and the meanings behind emojis. He was always a good texter but now it feels like they’re +
speaking the same language.
There is, however, an adorable little quirk that Chuuya will /never/ let him change. Instead of sending emojis, he sends /selfies/.
The picture he gets for /that/ comment is one with an incredibly dry expression, eyebrow lifted.
It clearly says+
There is, however, an adorable little quirk that Chuuya will /never/ let him change. Instead of sending emojis, he sends /selfies/.
The picture he gets for /that/ comment is one with an incredibly dry expression, eyebrow lifted.
It clearly says+
‘do you really think you can lie to me? We both know the truth’.
And well, yeah. That’s fair.
Digging out a pair of chopsticks from the bag, he sets aside the dessert to eat later. The seafood, however, gets pushed into his mouth as quickly as he can chew.
[ CHUUYA ]: thank+
And well, yeah. That’s fair.
Digging out a pair of chopsticks from the bag, he sets aside the dessert to eat later. The seafood, however, gets pushed into his mouth as quickly as he can chew.
[ CHUUYA ]: thank+
you though. you really didn't have to, i promise i was just venting. i didn't expect anything
It's taking him a while to get used to the vast financial difference between them, and he still feels a little guility whenever Dazai spends money on him. It's not like he can ever+
It's taking him a while to get used to the vast financial difference between them, and he still feels a little guility whenever Dazai spends money on him. It's not like he can ever+
pay it back.
It feels unbalanced.
[ DADDY🥰💕 ]: It wouldn't be very nice of me to watch you wither away in starvation when I can fix the problem, no?
That makes Chuuya smile, mouth full. To be fair, it really did feel like he was about to wither away. He's already a quarter+
It feels unbalanced.
[ DADDY🥰💕 ]: It wouldn't be very nice of me to watch you wither away in starvation when I can fix the problem, no?
That makes Chuuya smile, mouth full. To be fair, it really did feel like he was about to wither away. He's already a quarter+
of the way through the main course, and he's barely slowing down.
[ DADDY 🥰💕]: Don't worry so much, chibi. The tests will be easy for you. You're incredibly smart and hard-working, so just let me help where I can.
God, that's /so/ sweet. And the way he said the tests will be+
[ DADDY 🥰💕]: Don't worry so much, chibi. The tests will be easy for you. You're incredibly smart and hard-working, so just let me help where I can.
God, that's /so/ sweet. And the way he said the tests will be+
easy for /him/, instead of just easy, somehow validates all the effort Chuuya has been putting in and makes him feel a little more at ease. Like the tests might be hard for someone /else/, but not Chuuya, not after all the work he's done.
Plus, the 'smart' thing makes him feel+
Plus, the 'smart' thing makes him feel+
such an intense rush of giddiness that he actually has to set his phone down for a minute and stare at the wall while trying to control his wild blush.
He's never really been called smart before, not of himself. Usually, it's just attached to the idea that he studies /so/ much+
He's never really been called smart before, not of himself. Usually, it's just attached to the idea that he studies /so/ much+
that there was no other option but to /be/ smart. Like he deserves the title, but only because he worked himself to the bone to earn it. Like it could be taken away, if he falls behind or slips up.
He likes when Dazai calls him smart. It makes him feel /worthy/.
[ CHUUYA ]: +
He likes when Dazai calls him smart. It makes him feel /worthy/.
[ CHUUYA ]: +
okay 💕 thank you so much
The heart emoji he gets back feels it's directly attached to the one throbbing in his chest.
From there, that sets up a precedent. Chuuya /expected/ it to be a one-time thing, and that's all he really needed. He didn't mention being hungry or tired +
The heart emoji he gets back feels it's directly attached to the one throbbing in his chest.
From there, that sets up a precedent. Chuuya /expected/ it to be a one-time thing, and that's all he really needed. He didn't mention being hungry or tired +
again, because it feels ungrateful and like he's whining.
However,right around dinnertime like clockwork, there's another delivery person knocking on his door, armed with another bag of food.
It's always from a different restaurant, always some dish that Chuuya had offhandedly+
However,right around dinnertime like clockwork, there's another delivery person knocking on his door, armed with another bag of food.
It's always from a different restaurant, always some dish that Chuuya had offhandedly+
mentioned he liked, and always paid for by the time it arrives.
They don't really talk about it. Whenever Chuuya tries, he gets a 'I like helping you, sweetheart' and then another heart emoji when Chuuya finally gives in and says thank you.
He /is/ enjoying it, because it's +
They don't really talk about it. Whenever Chuuya tries, he gets a 'I like helping you, sweetheart' and then another heart emoji when Chuuya finally gives in and says thank you.
He /is/ enjoying it, because it's +
way better than whatever he'd be eating on his own, and it definitely takes a load off his mind in terms of stress and obligation. Dazai even sends him /coffee/, which is so beautiful that Chuuya actually tears up a little bit when he takes the first sip.
On the weekend before,+
On the weekend before,+
less than 36 hours away from his first exam, Chuuya is laid out in bed with the phone pressed to his ear. His brain is both half-dead and hyperactive, stuffed full with all the knowledge he can soak up.
"I think I'm gonna die," he whines into the receiver, half-dramatic and +
"I think I'm gonna die," he whines into the receiver, half-dramatic and +
half-serious. It's only his /first/ college finals season, so he's sure it's going to get /worse/ as the years go on, which frankly terrifies him.
Dazai laughs at him,and even though it's as his expense, it still makes him smile. "I hope you don't," he teases, "I happen to like+
Dazai laughs at him,and even though it's as his expense, it still makes him smile. "I hope you don't," he teases, "I happen to like+
you alive and breathing."
Chuuya sighs heavily. "Nikolai was supposed to study with me today, but I guess he picked up an extra shift at work. I haven't seen him all day."
Which sucks, because they promised to quiz eachother with flashcards, which is a lot more fun and +
Chuuya sighs heavily. "Nikolai was supposed to study with me today, but I guess he picked up an extra shift at work. I haven't seen him all day."
Which sucks, because they promised to quiz eachother with flashcards, which is a lot more fun and +
effective, but it's not that big of a problem.
He /is/ a little worried about Nikolai's tests, because the man barely seems to study and when he does, he spends half the time distracted. Yes, he's naturally pretty smart, but that's not /everything/.
Chuuya likes his roommate+
He /is/ a little worried about Nikolai's tests, because the man barely seems to study and when he does, he spends half the time distracted. Yes, he's naturally pretty smart, but that's not /everything/.
Chuuya likes his roommate+
and he really doesn't want to get another one, not halfway through the semester.
Dazai makes a sympathetic noise. "Does he work a lot?"
Chuuya rolls over, curling up deeper in bed. It's late, and he's had a long day of studying. "Lately? All the time."
"And you said he's +
Dazai makes a sympathetic noise. "Does he work a lot?"
Chuuya rolls over, curling up deeper in bed. It's late, and he's had a long day of studying. "Lately? All the time."
"And you said he's +
working now?"
"I assume so,"Chuuya blows out a breath,"he didn't really say anything besides that he couldn't make it to studying."
He got the text only an hour before their session,which was a little frustrating,but it's not like it was a date or anything.
"So you're alone?"+
"I assume so,"Chuuya blows out a breath,"he didn't really say anything besides that he couldn't make it to studying."
He got the text only an hour before their session,which was a little frustrating,but it's not like it was a date or anything.
"So you're alone?"+
Something about the way Dazai says that, a little /too/ innocently, like he's trying to cover up his intentions, makes Chuuya squint suspiciously.
"Yes...?"
"In that case," Dazai murmurs, and now the innocent tone has given way to something deeper, darker, more intoxicating,+
"Yes...?"
"In that case," Dazai murmurs, and now the innocent tone has given way to something deeper, darker, more intoxicating,+
"I think I might have something that will give you some...incentive."
Chuuya's heartrate picks up, heat gathering. "Like what?" He asks, and he shouldn't sound so breathless /already/, but it only takes a few words from Dazai to make him feel like he's about to snap.
"Do you+
Chuuya's heartrate picks up, heat gathering. "Like what?" He asks, and he shouldn't sound so breathless /already/, but it only takes a few words from Dazai to make him feel like he's about to snap.
"Do you+
trust me?"
He only ever has one answer. "Yes."
"Then I want you to do something for me."
Chuuya nods, a little too eagerly. He doesn't know where this is going, but he'll do almost anything if Dazai asks him like /that/. "Okay."
"I want you to touch yourself for me." +
He only ever has one answer. "Yes."
"Then I want you to do something for me."
Chuuya nods, a little too eagerly. He doesn't know where this is going, but he'll do almost anything if Dazai asks him like /that/. "Okay."
"I want you to touch yourself for me." +
His mind screeches to a halt, heart stuttering in his chest. He wants him to /what/?
He must’ve said that out loud, because there’s another short laugh on the phone, followed by Dazai’s unfairly amused voice, “I want you to touch yourself, doll.”
Embarrassment and arousal mix+
He must’ve said that out loud, because there’s another short laugh on the phone, followed by Dazai’s unfairly amused voice, “I want you to touch yourself, doll.”
Embarrassment and arousal mix+
inside him, turning his face red. Losing his mind while Dazai was holding him was one thing, but doing it to himself with him listening suddenly feels daunting. “Now? On thé phone?”
“Yes. Unless you’re shy...?”
He’s /not/ shy, he’s just not confident yet. He’s never done+
“Yes. Unless you’re shy...?”
He’s /not/ shy, he’s just not confident yet. He’s never done+
this before, jerked off for an audience. “What if Nikolai comes back?” He mumbles.
The next breath over the phone sounds a little heavier than the last, a little faster. “Then I suppose you better be quick, hm?”
That’s not a problem. Chuuya was a teenage boy in a house with+
The next breath over the phone sounds a little heavier than the last, a little faster. “Then I suppose you better be quick, hm?”
That’s not a problem. Chuuya was a teenage boy in a house with+
two sisters and a strict dad. He’s mastered the art of jerking off in 10 minutes flat.
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry,” Dazai murmurs, followed by the distinct /clink/ of a belt coming undone, “I’ll be right here with you, sweetheart.”
God. Just the /sounds/ of this now are+
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry,” Dazai murmurs, followed by the distinct /clink/ of a belt coming undone, “I’ll be right here with you, sweetheart.”
God. Just the /sounds/ of this now are+
enough to have heat pooling in Chuuya’s stomach, his every nerve growing taut and hyper aware. He swears he can almost /feel/ Dazai’s voice on him, like the whisper of too-light fingertips.
But if Dazai wants him /too/, right now, then why not just—
“Come pick me up?”+
But if Dazai wants him /too/, right now, then why not just—
“Come pick me up?”+
There’s a long, thoughtful silence on the other side. Chuuya holds his breath, hoping, waiting—
“I’ll make you a deal, doll. I will come pick you up”— /yes!/— “/after/ you take all your finals. As a reward.”
He pouts. That’s not /fair/, not when he has time right now and +
“I’ll make you a deal, doll. I will come pick you up”— /yes!/— “/after/ you take all your finals. As a reward.”
He pouts. That’s not /fair/, not when he has time right now and +
/Dazai/ has time right now, and they both want eachother. They’re less than 30 minutes apart!
“As for /now/,” Dazai hums, voice dropping deeper. If Chuuya listens closely there’s the /faintest/ sound of something slick and wet, “you can eri there /join/ me— or you can leave me+
“As for /now/,” Dazai hums, voice dropping deeper. If Chuuya listens closely there’s the /faintest/ sound of something slick and wet, “you can eri there /join/ me— or you can leave me+
to my own devices.”
Then something occurs to Dazai, something that makes tension crackle through the air, temperature ramping up as he speaks again, “Or you could /listen/? I /will/ be thinking about you— it’s only fair that you hear when I say your name.”
/Fuck/. +
Then something occurs to Dazai, something that makes tension crackle through the air, temperature ramping up as he speaks again, “Or you could /listen/? I /will/ be thinking about you— it’s only fair that you hear when I say your name.”
/Fuck/. +
“Yes,” he whimpers, unaware of what exactly he /wants/, but needing more of it anyways. More of whatever Dazai will give him, more tension, more pleasure, more attention.
“Yes what, doll?” Dazai purrs, followed the devastating sound of something slick and Chuuya realizes, +
“Yes what, doll?” Dazai purrs, followed the devastating sound of something slick and Chuuya realizes, +
lightheaded—
Dazai is jerking off. Right now. On call with him. He can hear it in his voice, the strained breathing and the low notes, /hear/ the sound of his slick hand moving over himself—
Oh /god/.
“You want to listen? Or you want to help me out? I need you to tell me+
Dazai is jerking off. Right now. On call with him. He can hear it in his voice, the strained breathing and the low notes, /hear/ the sound of his slick hand moving over himself—
Oh /god/.
“You want to listen? Or you want to help me out? I need you to tell me+
what you want, sweetheart.”
Chuuya wants it /all/, his body melting into a pulsating mass of need. “You— I want /you/. Please, I-I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” Dazai repeats, his chuckle a little foreboding in how dark it is. “Baby, you shouldn’t give me so much power. Who +
Chuuya wants it /all/, his body melting into a pulsating mass of need. “You— I want /you/. Please, I-I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?” Dazai repeats, his chuckle a little foreboding in how dark it is. “Baby, you shouldn’t give me so much power. Who +
/knows/ what I’ll do to you.”
Chuuya doesn’t know, but he aches to find out, imagines it as best he can with his limited knowledge. He hopes Dazai has plans.
Because he’s never done anything like this before, and he highly doubts that jerking himself off in 10 minutes is the+
Chuuya doesn’t know, but he aches to find out, imagines it as best he can with his limited knowledge. He hopes Dazai has plans.
Because he’s never done anything like this before, and he highly doubts that jerking himself off in 10 minutes is the+
exact idea that Dazai is going for, he asks breathlessly, “what do you want me to do?”
Frankly, he’s too turned on to be embarrassed right now, the growing tent in his sweats overriding any sort of nerves or anxiety.
Luckily, Dazai slides right into the commanding role without+
Frankly, he’s too turned on to be embarrassed right now, the growing tent in his sweats overriding any sort of nerves or anxiety.
Luckily, Dazai slides right into the commanding role without+
a moment of hesitation. “Turn your phone on speaker and place it by your head. Then take your clothes off.”
Chuuya removes his sweats so quickly he almost knees himself in the face, kicking the fabric off his ankles frantically. He leaves the shirt on, but he does ruck it up+
Chuuya removes his sweats so quickly he almost knees himself in the face, kicking the fabric off his ankles frantically. He leaves the shirt on, but he does ruck it up+
all the way to his armpits to give himself access. He’s not chancing being /completely/ naked if Nikolai comes back.
It takes him a few tries to put the phone on speaker because his hands are trembling so hard. He’s not helped along by Dazai’s whispered “so /eager/, baby.” +
It takes him a few tries to put the phone on speaker because his hands are trembling so hard. He’s not helped along by Dazai’s whispered “so /eager/, baby.” +
Then he’s lying there, head on his pillow, mostly naked. “Okay,” he says breathlessly, waiting for the next instruction.
“Good boy,” Dazai praises, voice curling down his spine. “I want you to start with your chest. Play with your nipples.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, he +
“Good boy,” Dazai praises, voice curling down his spine. “I want you to start with your chest. Play with your nipples.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, he +
lowers his hands to his chest. He never really spends a lot of time here, because he's usually in a /hurry/ and he was never /that/ sensitive to begin with, so he didn't think it was worth it.
Now, with his fingers rolling his warming flesh and Dazai's voice in his ear, he's+
Now, with his fingers rolling his warming flesh and Dazai's voice in his ear, he's+
starting to see the /appeal/.
"You know," Dazai draws out, like they're having a completely casual conversation instead of working themselves over, breathing starting to strain, "I haven't played with your chest yet, but I can't help but wonder what you'll sound like when I've +
"You know," Dazai draws out, like they're having a completely casual conversation instead of working themselves over, breathing starting to strain, "I haven't played with your chest yet, but I can't help but wonder what you'll sound like when I've +
got my teeth on you. Would you moan for me?"
Back arching instinctively, Chuuya /pinches/, simulating the feeling of teeth. Something about this situation has him /louder/ than he usually is, a soft noise already escaping the back of his throat. "Yes," he gasps out, because he+
Back arching instinctively, Chuuya /pinches/, simulating the feeling of teeth. Something about this situation has him /louder/ than he usually is, a soft noise already escaping the back of his throat. "Yes," he gasps out, because he+
would.
"Mm, I know you would. I don't think I'd stop until you /did/," Dazai says, breath hitching audibly. There's a ghost of a groan coming from the other side of the call, and Chuuya wants to hear it more than /anything/.
He bites his lip, not doing much to silence his+
"Mm, I know you would. I don't think I'd stop until you /did/," Dazai says, breath hitching audibly. There's a ghost of a groan coming from the other side of the call, and Chuuya wants to hear it more than /anything/.
He bites his lip, not doing much to silence his+
panting. If Dazai can't see him, then he should /hear/ him, right?
And if he's in any way as affected as Chuuya is by the noises, the soft barely-there groan and the slick noises that are beginning to speed up--
Then he'll ignore every shred of embarrassment and hesitance he+
And if he's in any way as affected as Chuuya is by the noises, the soft barely-there groan and the slick noises that are beginning to speed up--
Then he'll ignore every shred of embarrassment and hesitance he+
might've had, because he wants this to be good for Dazai more than /anything/.
The next question has him pause for a moment though.
"Do you have lube?"
He doesn't, mostly because he hasn't had a ton of time or extra money to go to the store to /get/ some, and the idea of the+
The next question has him pause for a moment though.
"Do you have lube?"
He doesn't, mostly because he hasn't had a ton of time or extra money to go to the store to /get/ some, and the idea of the+
cashier staring at him while ringing up his purchase makes him want to hide. Besides, he's never really needed anything like that before, because /most/ of his... personal time happens in the shower and he didn't need it then. The rare times it wasn't, he just used lotion. "No,"+
he mumbles, squirming a little bit.
He's regretting that /now/ though, because now he's wondering what Dazai would've asked him to do if he /did/ have lube.
There's a beat of silence, where the embarrassment builds and Chuuya is half-expecting him to be like 'what kind of+
He's regretting that /now/ though, because now he's wondering what Dazai would've asked him to do if he /did/ have lube.
There's a beat of silence, where the embarrassment builds and Chuuya is half-expecting him to be like 'what kind of+
18 year old college boy /doesn't/ have lube--' but no,that's not what happens.
Instead: "I want you to suck on your fingers then. Get them nice and wet."
He barely even thinks before he's doing as told, opening his mouth wide to rub his fingers against his tongue. The noise is+
Instead: "I want you to suck on your fingers then. Get them nice and wet."
He barely even thinks before he's doing as told, opening his mouth wide to rub his fingers against his tongue. The noise is+
embarrassingly loud, but it mixes with the slick, rhythmic sounds from Dazai’s side, and if Chuuya thinks, hard he can /almost/ imagine it—
The size of Dazai’s cock,the weight of it in his hands, the taste of it on his tongue, hot and hard and so fucking big, almost too much to+
The size of Dazai’s cock,the weight of it in his hands, the taste of it on his tongue, hot and hard and so fucking big, almost too much to+
handle, too much to take--
"Have you ever fingered yourself before?" Dazai's voice is like seduction itself, low and throbbing, sliding into the deepest, darkest parts of Chuuya's mind and claiming it for his own.
He speaks around his fingers, "Not...really?"
He tried, once,+
"Have you ever fingered yourself before?" Dazai's voice is like seduction itself, low and throbbing, sliding into the deepest, darkest parts of Chuuya's mind and claiming it for his own.
He speaks around his fingers, "Not...really?"
He tried, once,+
in the shower too, but it was only the tip of his index finger and it felt weird more than anything. There wasn't any sparks, no mind-blowing pleasure, just the feeling of intrusion. He ended up pulling it out and jerking off like usual, and didn't try again.
Now though, with +
Now though, with +
hunger an empty pit in his stomach, filling him with the aching desire for /more/--
He'd try again, if Dazai asked him to. "Do you want me to--?"
This time, there's a slight growl to his voice as Dazai responds, "No, not where I can't /watch/ you fuck yourself for the first +
He'd try again, if Dazai asked him to. "Do you want me to--?"
This time, there's a slight growl to his voice as Dazai responds, "No, not where I can't /watch/ you fuck yourself for the first +
time."
God, /every/ time Dazai curses it makes electricity jolt up his spine. It's so rare, and only in situations like this.
"For now," Dazai murmurs, taking a second to catch his breath, because he's on the verge of panting already, "I want you to reach down, and take +
God, /every/ time Dazai curses it makes electricity jolt up his spine. It's so rare, and only in situations like this.
"For now," Dazai murmurs, taking a second to catch his breath, because he's on the verge of panting already, "I want you to reach down, and take +
yourself in hand. Are you hard?"
Shamefully so, considering that he's only had Dazai's voice and his hands on his chest for stimulation. He /aches/, rock-hard against his stomach, throbbing with neglect.
Instead of answering, he reaches down and wraps his fingers around his +
Shamefully so, considering that he's only had Dazai's voice and his hands on his chest for stimulation. He /aches/, rock-hard against his stomach, throbbing with neglect.
Instead of answering, he reaches down and wraps his fingers around his +
erection, letting out a startled moan at how /good/ the friction feels, hot and wet with his own saliva.
"/Fuck/," Dazai hisses in response,the wet sounds of him jerking off increasing, "that's it, baby.Make yourself feel good, I wanna /hear/."
Choking out another moan, Chuuya+
"/Fuck/," Dazai hisses in response,the wet sounds of him jerking off increasing, "that's it, baby.Make yourself feel good, I wanna /hear/."
Choking out another moan, Chuuya+
gives himself a slow stroke, starting at the base and working up. Pleasure pulses through him, heightened by the twist of his wrist over the head. Pre-cum wells up at the tip, is spread with the next stroke.
It’s all too easy to fall into a rhythm, spurred on by the heat +
It’s all too easy to fall into a rhythm, spurred on by the heat +
gathering in his veins, the dark whisper of Dazai’s voice by his ear.
“Imagine it, baby,” Dazai groans, actually groans and Chuuya has /never/ heard him sound so affected or out of control, and that alone is enough to have his hips twitching, hand speeding up, “imagine what I+
“Imagine it, baby,” Dazai groans, actually groans and Chuuya has /never/ heard him sound so affected or out of control, and that alone is enough to have his hips twitching, hand speeding up, “imagine what I+
could do to you. How good I could make you feel. I know how bad you want it, and I could /give it to you/.”
The room is getting hotter, air scorching against his skin. His skin feels too tight, not big enough to hold the ecstasy building inside him, not big enough to contain+
The room is getting hotter, air scorching against his skin. His skin feels too tight, not big enough to hold the ecstasy building inside him, not big enough to contain+
the swirling mess of desire and lust.
Dazai hasn’t even touched him today and it’s almost too much already.
“Dazai,” he whimpers, the saliva on his hand almost dried out, adding a delicious twinge of rough friction that just sends him climbing higher, “I need— /please/.” +
Dazai hasn’t even touched him today and it’s almost too much already.
“Dazai,” he whimpers, the saliva on his hand almost dried out, adding a delicious twinge of rough friction that just sends him climbing higher, “I need— /please/.” +
“I know what you need,” Dazai cuts him off, and the sheer confidence in his voice is enough to have Chuuya’s head spinning. “Just a little more, right? You’re /so/ close, aren’t you?”
Yes, yes, /yes/, he is, his hand can’t move fast enough. His forearm aches with the strain, +
Yes, yes, /yes/, he is, his hand can’t move fast enough. His forearm aches with the strain, +
but god, he can’t stop, not when every stroke feels even better than the last, the pleasure mounting, winding him tighter, /tighter/—
“Dazai,” he whines again, mind melting. He doesn’t know any other words right now, only /his/ name.
Just Dazai and all-encompassing pleasure,+
“Dazai,” he whines again, mind melting. He doesn’t know any other words right now, only /his/ name.
Just Dazai and all-encompassing pleasure,+
all around him, pulling him under.
And then--
"Chuuya," Dazai moans back at him, voice guttural and soaked in pleasure,and /fuck/, that's his /name/,it sounds so /good/ when he says it like that.
The tension starts to fray, the heat too much to handle. It's so much, so /good/+
And then--
"Chuuya," Dazai moans back at him, voice guttural and soaked in pleasure,and /fuck/, that's his /name/,it sounds so /good/ when he says it like that.
The tension starts to fray, the heat too much to handle. It's so much, so /good/+
that it's starting to take over, break under his own momentum.
"Gonna-- /Gonna/--!"
One stroke, two. Down, up, twist over the head, back down, /squeeze/--
"Cum for me, baby."
The statement--a /command/, really-- is enough to break the tension. With a loud, strangled cry, he+
"Gonna-- /Gonna/--!"
One stroke, two. Down, up, twist over the head, back down, /squeeze/--
"Cum for me, baby."
The statement--a /command/, really-- is enough to break the tension. With a loud, strangled cry, he+
/does/.
Rapture washes over him in fiery waves, making him shudder. Each one feels better than the last, drawn out by his still-moving hand. His thighs twitch hard, fighting both for and against the sensations.
The world around him is drowned out by the roaring of his pulse in+
Rapture washes over him in fiery waves, making him shudder. Each one feels better than the last, drawn out by his still-moving hand. His thighs twitch hard, fighting both for and against the sensations.
The world around him is drowned out by the roaring of his pulse in+
his ears, the throbbing of his heart and cock in time, the swell and crash of pleasure that knocks him breathless.
He's probably whining incoherently, whimpering out desperate noises and 'oh /fuck/'s as he works himself through it.
It feels like it lasts /forever/, so intense+
He's probably whining incoherently, whimpering out desperate noises and 'oh /fuck/'s as he works himself through it.
It feels like it lasts /forever/, so intense+
that he's panting with it.
By the time the waves finally clear and oversensitivity begins to develop, he's treated to the /glorious/ sound of Dazai's drawn-out groan, whispered 'fuck's and another call of his name as he obviously works himself through his own orgasm.
The +
By the time the waves finally clear and oversensitivity begins to develop, he's treated to the /glorious/ sound of Dazai's drawn-out groan, whispered 'fuck's and another call of his name as he obviously works himself through his own orgasm.
The +
sounds make another shiver of arousal pulse through him, even though he /just/ came,his belly and hand still smeared with cum. Truthfully,he doesn't think he'll be satisfied until he hears those noises in /person/, right next to his ear as Dazai--
Well, as Dazai does /whatever/+
Well, as Dazai does /whatever/+
he wants with him. He'll let him do it /all/.
Dazai collects himself faster than Chuuya did,his harsh breathing evening out rather quickly.
(His composure has always been impressive, but every day it gets closer to /cracking/, and Chuuya is looking forward to the day he loses+
Dazai collects himself faster than Chuuya did,his harsh breathing evening out rather quickly.
(His composure has always been impressive, but every day it gets closer to /cracking/, and Chuuya is looking forward to the day he loses+
that self-control.)
"Feel better?" Dazai asks after a moment, voice once again returned to his normal, caramel-sweet tones. It's a shame to lose that rough growling, but that just makes it /better/ when Chuuya does hear it.
He hums, reaching over to his table to snatch up a +
"Feel better?" Dazai asks after a moment, voice once again returned to his normal, caramel-sweet tones. It's a shame to lose that rough growling, but that just makes it /better/ when Chuuya does hear it.
He hums, reaching over to his table to snatch up a +
tissue for clean-up. "Yeah," he says, failing to stifle a huge yawn.
He was running on only a few hours of sleep, and after the exertion, he's limp with exhaustion. He doesn't even have the energy to pull his clothes back on, choosing instead to crawl under the covers and have +
He was running on only a few hours of sleep, and after the exertion, he's limp with exhaustion. He doesn't even have the energy to pull his clothes back on, choosing instead to crawl under the covers and have +
faith that he won’t be flashing the goods to Nikolai when he returns.
“Sleepy baby,” Dazai teases, but it’s so soft it just makes Chuuya feel warm. “Go to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” he yawns again, but he doesn’t move to hang up the phone.
Neither does+
“Sleepy baby,” Dazai teases, but it’s so soft it just makes Chuuya feel warm. “Go to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” he yawns again, but he doesn’t move to hang up the phone.
Neither does+
Dazai, not right away. He remains quiet, choosing instead just to listen to the sounds of shuffling and quiet murmurs as Chuuya settles down.
He falls asleep like that, with the comforting sound of Dazai’s breathing near his ear.
Dazai doesn’t hang up for a /very/ long time.+
He falls asleep like that, with the comforting sound of Dazai’s breathing near his ear.
Dazai doesn’t hang up for a /very/ long time.+
(Of course, all good things must come to an end. Chuuya has never had an easy time for long, so it’s only natural that things take a turn for the worse from then on.
But it’s not his fault this time.
No, this time, it all starts with /Nikolai/.) +
But it’s not his fault this time.
No, this time, it all starts with /Nikolai/.) +
The morning before Chuuya's calculus and physics exams, a delivery driver drops off what is probably the largest cup of coffee Chuuya has ever seen. It smells heavenly, and tastes even better--hints of hazelnut and mocha, just sweet enough to savor.
More than just the coffee +
More than just the coffee +
arrives though.
Because stapled to the little bag that holds a blueberry muffin is a pitch black, blank business card.
Seeing it makes his heart trip, because he has a twin of this exact card still stuffed in his desk drawer, from when he received the flowers.
It still +
Because stapled to the little bag that holds a blueberry muffin is a pitch black, blank business card.
Seeing it makes his heart trip, because he has a twin of this exact card still stuffed in his desk drawer, from when he received the flowers.
It still +
doesn't have any text,but the message is pretty clear, because only one person would send him this.
Dazai.
He /did/ send him the flowers then, and that--
That /jerk/ claimed they were from him so that Chuuya would stop being upset over their fight when Shuuji pinned him down.+
Dazai.
He /did/ send him the flowers then, and that--
That /jerk/ claimed they were from him so that Chuuya would stop being upset over their fight when Shuuji pinned him down.+
The anger--the anger he should've felt /then/ but didn't because he felt too guilty,too /dramatic/--boils up from inside him.
Shuuji /never/ actually apologized for that. Sure, maybe he had a point that Chuuya could've communicated his feelings better, but the one time he /did/+
Shuuji /never/ actually apologized for that. Sure, maybe he had a point that Chuuya could've communicated his feelings better, but the one time he /did/+
communciate--even if panicked and in tears-- he was yelled at and made to feel small. Like he was being stupid, or childish.
Back then, he'd taken the flowers as some silent apology, and he'd moved past it.
But this, right here, proves that not only did Shuuji not care about +
Back then, he'd taken the flowers as some silent apology, and he'd moved past it.
But this, right here, proves that not only did Shuuji not care about +
his feelings--not a surprise, really, but still hurtful-- but also that...
Dazai has cared a lot longer than even Chuuya thought he did. He thought that the first dinner was a turning point for them, like that was the first time Dazai had ever seen him in a different light. +
Dazai has cared a lot longer than even Chuuya thought he did. He thought that the first dinner was a turning point for them, like that was the first time Dazai had ever seen him in a different light. +
But the flowers were a /week/ before that, and if he cared enough to cheer him up without telling him they were from him, even though he wasn't at fault--
God, he's /so/ sweet.
As he sits there, struggling between anger and injustice from Shuuji, and an overflowing sense of +
God, he's /so/ sweet.
As he sits there, struggling between anger and injustice from Shuuji, and an overflowing sense of +
affection and gratefulness for Dazai--
"Where did you get this?"
The black card is plucked from his fingertips, and Chuuya is whirling around, mouth open and already ready to tear into whoever is touching /his/ gift--
It's Nikolai, with a deep-set frown as he looks from the+
"Where did you get this?"
The black card is plucked from his fingertips, and Chuuya is whirling around, mouth open and already ready to tear into whoever is touching /his/ gift--
It's Nikolai, with a deep-set frown as he looks from the+
card to Chuuya.
Chuuya has a choice here:
As far as Nikolai knows, Shuuji and him are still... involved. Still talking. Obviously, he isn’t around that much, but he’s under the impression that Chuuya still has a crush on Shuuji.
So he could reveal that all the meals that+
Chuuya has a choice here:
As far as Nikolai knows, Shuuji and him are still... involved. Still talking. Obviously, he isn’t around that much, but he’s under the impression that Chuuya still has a crush on Shuuji.
So he could reveal that all the meals that+
have been delivered were actually from Dazai, and that Chuuya doesn’t actually like Shuuji anymore because he’s a jerk that stood him up, and then explain how he want on a date with Dazai instead and now they’re kinda-not-really-but-sorta dating secretly—
Or he could /lie/. +
Or he could /lie/. +
"I found it on the ground outside the door."
Okay,he /could've/ lied better than that,but it's too late to take it back.
"You found this black business card outside our dorm?" Nikolai looks disbelieving and a little concerned.
Forcing a smile, Chuuya says,"Yep. On the floor."+
Okay,he /could've/ lied better than that,but it's too late to take it back.
"You found this black business card outside our dorm?" Nikolai looks disbelieving and a little concerned.
Forcing a smile, Chuuya says,"Yep. On the floor."+
Nikolai stares at him. Stares at the card. Stares back at him, his eyes squinting suspiciously.
Chuuya is /fully/ expecting to be called out as a cheater or a dad-fucker or anything at this point, awkward tension building--
"Have you ever heard of the Demon prodigy?"
What. +
Chuuya is /fully/ expecting to be called out as a cheater or a dad-fucker or anything at this point, awkward tension building--
"Have you ever heard of the Demon prodigy?"
What. +
Chuuya frowns at him, confused. “You mean that ghost story about the campus fire almost 20 years ago? Yeah, Yuan told me.”
Nikolai pushes his hair behind his ears. He’s wearing his hair down today, all loose white waves that make his blue-grey eyes seem more intense. “It’s not+
Nikolai pushes his hair behind his ears. He’s wearing his hair down today, all loose white waves that make his blue-grey eyes seem more intense. “It’s not+
a /ghost/ story, Chuuya, he was a real person. And it’s said that he used to leave /black business cards/—“ he shows him the card again, like it counts as evidence, “— where his future victims would find them, as a threat and a warning.”
Chuuya stares at him. “So... you’re +
Chuuya stares at him. “So... you’re +
telling me that the business card is some sort of threatening calling card and now I’m.... going to be hunted down by some terrifying demon prodigy?”
Nikolai looks grim.
After a moment, it’s too much. Chuuya bursts into laughter. “That sounds ridiculous. Nice try trying to+
Nikolai looks grim.
After a moment, it’s too much. Chuuya bursts into laughter. “That sounds ridiculous. Nice try trying to+
scare me though.”
He reaches for the card, because Nikolai actually looks like he might rip it in half.
Using his height to his advantage, he holds it out of his reach. “I’m not trying to /scare/ you— look, you’ve heard of the Port Mafia, right?”
Who hasn’t? They’re blamed+
He reaches for the card, because Nikolai actually looks like he might rip it in half.
Using his height to his advantage, he holds it out of his reach. “I’m not trying to /scare/ you— look, you’ve heard of the Port Mafia, right?”
Who hasn’t? They’re blamed+
for almost every crime that happens in the city, from drug trafficking to domestic violence. They’re the most powerful crime organization on this side of Japan, and they rule the city with an iron hand.
They’re the feral dogs stalking the night. They’re the reason respectable+
They’re the feral dogs stalking the night. They’re the reason respectable+
citizens avoid dark alleyways and stay home after dark. They’re the scary stories told to children to keep them in line.
/Yakuza/. Fearless, heartless criminals.
“A while ago, there was a lot more crime in the city. The Port Mafia wasn’t as powerful as it is today, so there+
/Yakuza/. Fearless, heartless criminals.
“A while ago, there was a lot more crime in the city. The Port Mafia wasn’t as powerful as it is today, so there+
was a lot more infighting. The gangs fought over territory and resources, and a lot of innocent people were harmed.”
Chuuya takes a sip of of his coffee, wondering where the hell he’s going with this. He only has an hour before his exam, and he /should/ be spending it doing+
Chuuya takes a sip of of his coffee, wondering where the hell he’s going with this. He only has an hour before his exam, and he /should/ be spending it doing+
some last minute cramming, but apparently Nikolai has /other/ plans.
“It was like that for a while, but then the Demon Prodigy showed up. He was ruthless, and the streets ran red with the blood he spilled. Between him and his partner, the Mafia quickly became the most +
“It was like that for a while, but then the Demon Prodigy showed up. He was ruthless, and the streets ran red with the blood he spilled. Between him and his partner, the Mafia quickly became the most +
feared and powerful Yakuza clan in the city. That’s why they still have so much power to this day.”
Narrowing his eyes, Chuuya considers. That story felt more like informational than anything else, with a few too many details to be coincidence. “How do you know all that?”+
Narrowing his eyes, Chuuya considers. That story felt more like informational than anything else, with a few too many details to be coincidence. “How do you know all that?”+
His expression shutters, growing distant and a little pale. “My brother used to be involved with the Russian syndicate, back is Moscow.”
Chuuya arches a brow. “You’ve never mentioned a brother before?”
“That’s because,” Nikolai pauses, seeming to search for the right words to+
Chuuya arches a brow. “You’ve never mentioned a brother before?”
“That’s because,” Nikolai pauses, seeming to search for the right words to+
say, “he is no longer with us.”
It takes Chuuya an embarrassingly long moment to realize what he means, and then he winces.
He’s /dead/. Probably because of gang activity, based on this story.
He feels bad now, guilt at the careful distance on Nikolai’s face. “I’m sorry,+
It takes Chuuya an embarrassingly long moment to realize what he means, and then he winces.
He’s /dead/. Probably because of gang activity, based on this story.
He feels bad now, guilt at the careful distance on Nikolai’s face. “I’m sorry,+
that must be hard.”
With a nonchalance that Chuuya could never imagine having if Kouyou or Kyouka ever got hurt, Nikolai waves off his concern. “Thank you. It was a long time ago now. I am okay.”
Then he offers the black card back to Chuuya, holding it with the tips of his+
With a nonchalance that Chuuya could never imagine having if Kouyou or Kyouka ever got hurt, Nikolai waves off his concern. “Thank you. It was a long time ago now. I am okay.”
Then he offers the black card back to Chuuya, holding it with the tips of his+
fingers like it might burn him. “My point is, you should be careful. Nothing good happens to the people who receive these.”
Chuuya takes it, stuffing it into his pocket carelessly. “It’s just a black card, Nikolai. It doesn’t even have a message on it. As far as threatening +
Chuuya takes it, stuffing it into his pocket carelessly. “It’s just a black card, Nikolai. It doesn’t even have a message on it. As far as threatening +
call signs go, it’s pretty lame. Besides, any criminal with internet access knows not to leave a calling card behind, that’s /exactly/ how they find the killers on Criminal Minds.”
“Oh for the love of—,” Nikolai starts, pausing to wipe a hand over his face. This is probably+
“Oh for the love of—,” Nikolai starts, pausing to wipe a hand over his face. This is probably+
the most irritated Chuuya has ever seen him. “Just— be careful, okay? Because if he’s found you, or if he wants you for whatever reason, his enemies aren’t far behind. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Checking his watch, Chuuya realizes he’s only got 45 minutes before his +
Checking his watch, Chuuya realizes he’s only got 45 minutes before his +
class. The nerves are beginning to build, fueled by coffee. Did he study that one equation enough? He’s always been prone to acting in instinct when under pressure, which is /not/ the way to tackle his complicated calculus test. He can’t afford to fail. He can’t even afford to +
get less than a 75 without dropping his ranking.
“I will, Nikolai, but I don’t understand your fear. Even if the stories are true, he’s probably 50 by now, and I’m just a regular college student. Nothing happens to me. There’s no reason for him to ‘want me’. It was just a +
“I will, Nikolai, but I don’t understand your fear. Even if the stories are true, he’s probably 50 by now, and I’m just a regular college student. Nothing happens to me. There’s no reason for him to ‘want me’. It was just a +
coincidence or a mistake. Maybe some guy just ordered business cards and they came out wrong.”
(Later,he will regret not connecting the dots.Regret not asking questions,and regret not taking his warning seriously.
But by then,it’ll be far too late.
Right now— he has an exam.)+
(Later,he will regret not connecting the dots.Regret not asking questions,and regret not taking his warning seriously.
But by then,it’ll be far too late.
Right now— he has an exam.)+
******* THE NEXT SCENE MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR:
Mentioned non-sexual abuse of a minor, minor character death, mild gore and violence, themes of depression/suicidal ideation, mention of consensual sex between minors.
Feel free to skip; I will post a summary at the end. **********
Mentioned non-sexual abuse of a minor, minor character death, mild gore and violence, themes of depression/suicidal ideation, mention of consensual sex between minors.
Feel free to skip; I will post a summary at the end. **********
----- 19 YEARS AGO -----
Osamu hates when they scream. The noise gets into his head, makes his ears ring, opens something dark and abyssal inside him that's hungry and full of teeth.
More importantly, it's fucking annoying. And /loud/.
"Stop stalling," Yosano says from her+
Osamu hates when they scream. The noise gets into his head, makes his ears ring, opens something dark and abyssal inside him that's hungry and full of teeth.
More importantly, it's fucking annoying. And /loud/.
"Stop stalling," Yosano says from her+
seat on the concrete stairs. She's cleaning her nails with a wickedly sharp knife, casually threatening. Her boots are tall, with thick soles.
Good for stomping.
"I'm not stalling," Osamu denies automatically, clenching his fingers around the gun in his hand.
It's a lie. +
Good for stomping.
"I'm not stalling," Osamu denies automatically, clenching his fingers around the gun in his hand.
It's a lie. +
But it's not because he's playing with his food, or anything sadistic like Yosano likely thinks. He doesn't enjoy the screams, the way the traitor girl is currently clawing onto his pants and begging for her life.
It's a lost cause. Her life was forfeit as soon as she crossed+
It's a lost cause. Her life was forfeit as soon as she crossed+
the Mafia. Both of them knew that.
And it's not because he's particularly opposed to killing someone. He's killed people before, by the people under his command or with his own hand. He's a /very/ good weapon. He's been handling a gun since he was 9 years old, after all.
No, +
And it's not because he's particularly opposed to killing someone. He's killed people before, by the people under his command or with his own hand. He's a /very/ good weapon. He's been handling a gun since he was 9 years old, after all.
No, +
neither of those are the reason he's not forcing the girl and her boyfriend teeth-first against the curb.
It's because whenever he looks down at her,all long brown hair and big brown filled with tears and desperation, he feels a pit drop out of his stomach. Nausea climbs up his+
It's because whenever he looks down at her,all long brown hair and big brown filled with tears and desperation, he feels a pit drop out of his stomach. Nausea climbs up his+
throat.
// "Please-- no, /not/ him, /please/." //
"You know you have to do it," Yosano continues, slipping her knife back into her boot. She stands up with a lazy yawn, stretching her hands overhead. "You know what Mori will do if you don't."
Yeah, he knows. Nothing immediate+
// "Please-- no, /not/ him, /please/." //
"You know you have to do it," Yosano continues, slipping her knife back into her boot. She stands up with a lazy yawn, stretching her hands overhead. "You know what Mori will do if you don't."
Yeah, he knows. Nothing immediate+
nothing /physical/.
But he'll be on edge for weeks, waiting for the bit of incorrect information that will land him in a sticky situation. Waiting for that snickered "oh, Osamu-kun, you should /really/ check your sources before acting!" when he drags himself back home. +
But he'll be on edge for weeks, waiting for the bit of incorrect information that will land him in a sticky situation. Waiting for that snickered "oh, Osamu-kun, you should /really/ check your sources before acting!" when he drags himself back home. +
"Please-- you don't have to do this! You're just a /kid/! You don't have to do this to us, please."
Dazai crouches down beside the girl--he knows her name, but he refuses to think of it in times like these- and pries her hands off his slacks mercilessly.
That's where she's +
Dazai crouches down beside the girl--he knows her name, but he refuses to think of it in times like these- and pries her hands off his slacks mercilessly.
That's where she's +
wrong. He's not a child, not anymore.
When you throw a child to the wolves, the thing that returns is more beast than child.
More demon than man.
He smiles,no amusement,eyes dead in his face. "No, I'm not."
Yosano takes up the silent cue, and grabs the girl by her shoulders.+
When you throw a child to the wolves, the thing that returns is more beast than child.
More demon than man.
He smiles,no amusement,eyes dead in his face. "No, I'm not."
Yosano takes up the silent cue, and grabs the girl by her shoulders.+
She drags her back, forcibly flipping her over. It's a struggle to get her lined up properly with how hard she's fighting, but Yosano is stronger than she looks.
She has to be, to be /his/ partner. They're double black for a reason.
Because Dazai is still hearing that cursed+
She has to be, to be /his/ partner. They're double black for a reason.
Because Dazai is still hearing that cursed+
voice in his head, the swimming after-image of someone who used to love him very much--
He takes mercy on the traitor,and shoots her thrice in the chest before he shatters her jaw with a quick stomp of his boot.
It is not satisfying, or painful to watch.
It's /empty/, hollow.+
He takes mercy on the traitor,and shoots her thrice in the chest before he shatters her jaw with a quick stomp of his boot.
It is not satisfying, or painful to watch.
It's /empty/, hollow.+
Dazai lets Yosano have the man, because she's /vindictive/ when it comes to anything male-related. He holds him down for her, watching her boot come down with a detached casualness.
It doesn't matter. Just another kill-- his first mafia execution, though.
Maybe that's why it+
It doesn't matter. Just another kill-- his first mafia execution, though.
Maybe that's why it+
was so hard to do it. Maybe that's why he kept thinking of his--
He stands up, brushing his hands over his coat to get rid of the imaginary dust and blood. The cleaner crew will be on their way soon, so their job is done.
Mission complete.
Somehow, he always ends up feeling+
He stands up, brushing his hands over his coat to get rid of the imaginary dust and blood. The cleaner crew will be on their way soon, so their job is done.
Mission complete.
Somehow, he always ends up feeling+
worse after missions, like he's been turned inside out and scraped clean of everything inside him.
Turning to Yosano, he asks, "Wanna fuck?"
He's found there's only /two/ things that help when he's feeling like this, one infinitely more enjoyable than the other. Pleasure or +
Turning to Yosano, he asks, "Wanna fuck?"
He's found there's only /two/ things that help when he's feeling like this, one infinitely more enjoyable than the other. Pleasure or +
pain.
Either works, but he does have a preference sometimes.
He probably /shouldn't/ be sleeping with Yosano, considering she's his rival for the boss position. She's liable to stab him in the back to drag herself farther up the ladder of power.
Eh. He doesn't care. Dying+
Either works, but he does have a preference sometimes.
He probably /shouldn't/ be sleeping with Yosano, considering she's his rival for the boss position. She's liable to stab him in the back to drag herself farther up the ladder of power.
Eh. He doesn't care. Dying+
by her hand would be an honor.
Yosano snorts, delicately stepping over a growing puddle of blood. "I know better than to fall into bed with you when you're fresh off a kill. You turn into a /beast/."
A flash of teeth, dark eyes glinting with amusement. She's not /wrong/.
"Go+
Yosano snorts, delicately stepping over a growing puddle of blood. "I know better than to fall into bed with you when you're fresh off a kill. You turn into a /beast/."
A flash of teeth, dark eyes glinting with amusement. She's not /wrong/.
"Go+
find that Sasaki girl. She seemed like she was into that shit."
Dazai sighs, pulling out his phone. Sasaki is a /bit/ annoying, too clingy for his tastes but--
The sex is good. She got onto birth control recently, so she said the /next/ time he wouldn't have to use a condom+
Dazai sighs, pulling out his phone. Sasaki is a /bit/ annoying, too clingy for his tastes but--
The sex is good. She got onto birth control recently, so she said the /next/ time he wouldn't have to use a condom+
so that's enough for him to put up with any 'please be my boyfriend Dazai-kun' behavior.
Why she wants /him/ as a boyfriend, he doesn't know. Guess the sex is /that/ good.
He selects a contact, bringing the phone up to his ear while he waits for it to ring.
Just another day.+
Why she wants /him/ as a boyfriend, he doesn't know. Guess the sex is /that/ good.
He selects a contact, bringing the phone up to his ear while he waits for it to ring.
Just another day.+
****************** END OF TRIGGER WARNINGS
Summary: Dazai completed his first execution mafia-style, then goes to sleep with Sasaki.
****************
Summary: Dazai completed his first execution mafia-style, then goes to sleep with Sasaki.
****************
Finishing his last final is like feeling the culmination of all the emotions he's felt over the past month. Exhaustion, from having studied so hard,to the point where he almost quit more than a few times.
Triumph, for having actually made it through finals /and/ he feels pretty+
Triumph, for having actually made it through finals /and/ he feels pretty+
good about his scores. His English courses were a little iffy, but he's never spent too much time on the language, so he's going to call it a success.
Freedom, because he might have failed, he might be stupid, and he /might/ be off to pack up his bags as soon as the scores +
Freedom, because he might have failed, he might be stupid, and he /might/ be off to pack up his bags as soon as the scores +
come back in, but at /least/ it's over.
And excitement, too, because Dazai said he's taking him to dinner afterwards to celebrate, and he's /so/ excited he could almost vibrate out of his seat.
Luckily, he has just enough time to take a quick shower and change into some better+
And excitement, too, because Dazai said he's taking him to dinner afterwards to celebrate, and he's /so/ excited he could almost vibrate out of his seat.
Luckily, he has just enough time to take a quick shower and change into some better+
clothes than the sweats he took his tests in.
Nikolai is, once again, nowhere to be found. Chuuya would be concerned, because he hasn't seen him since finals started, but he's been responding to texts, so.
He's probably fine.
Because he's so tired, he actually skips on most+
Nikolai is, once again, nowhere to be found. Chuuya would be concerned, because he hasn't seen him since finals started, but he's been responding to texts, so.
He's probably fine.
Because he's so tired, he actually skips on most+
of his makeup, besides covering up his dark circles and some highlight.
He has a feeling he'll either be passing out in Dazai's bed as soon as they get home--/if/ Dazai takes him home-- or he'll be passing out as soon as he arrives back at the dorm. The less he has to take off,+
He has a feeling he'll either be passing out in Dazai's bed as soon as they get home--/if/ Dazai takes him home-- or he'll be passing out as soon as he arrives back at the dorm. The less he has to take off,+
the better. Work smarter, not harder.
As always, Dazai is /exactly/ on time,leaning against his car on the passenger side as he waits patiently.
Luckily, the parking lot is mostly empty, so no one really sees when Chuuya rushes up to him and flings his arms around his neck for+
As always, Dazai is /exactly/ on time,leaning against his car on the passenger side as he waits patiently.
Luckily, the parking lot is mostly empty, so no one really sees when Chuuya rushes up to him and flings his arms around his neck for+
a kiss.
“Hello to you too,” Dazai laughs against his lips, hands sliding around his back to pull him closer. Then, lower, in a rumbling purr, “Did you miss me?”
Chuuya makes an assenting noise, unable to keep himself from smiling into the kiss as he presses as close as he can.+
“Hello to you too,” Dazai laughs against his lips, hands sliding around his back to pull him closer. Then, lower, in a rumbling purr, “Did you miss me?”
Chuuya makes an assenting noise, unable to keep himself from smiling into the kiss as he presses as close as he can.+
They stand there for a long moment, savoring the feel of each other. It's not rushed, or backed by desperate energy. It's just simply--
/Hello again. I missed you./
After the stress of finals, the feeling of Dazai's arms around him, supporting him, makes relief thrum through+
/Hello again. I missed you./
After the stress of finals, the feeling of Dazai's arms around him, supporting him, makes relief thrum through+
him. Here, the rest of the world fades away, turning into background noise. Here, the only thing that matters is big brown eyes, soft hair, and the taste of a smile against his own.
"We're gonna be late," Dazai murmurs, though his hand is sliding further up his back to +
"We're gonna be late," Dazai murmurs, though his hand is sliding further up his back to +
encourage the arch of his spine. Their chests are pressed together.
"I don't care," Chuuya mumbles back. His calves ache from having to stand on his tip-toes this whole time, but the muscle pain means nothing to him right now.
With a final, lingering kiss Dazai pulls away. +
"I don't care," Chuuya mumbles back. His calves ache from having to stand on his tip-toes this whole time, but the muscle pain means nothing to him right now.
With a final, lingering kiss Dazai pulls away. +
When Chuuya pouts up at him, he breaks it by pushing his thumb over his bottom lip. "Stop pouting, baby. We have to eat."
He bends down again, and Chuuya's eyes are falling naturally closed, hoping for another kiss. He arches up impossibly higher, hands on his shoulders.
But+
He bends down again, and Chuuya's eyes are falling naturally closed, hoping for another kiss. He arches up impossibly higher, hands on his shoulders.
But+
he bypasses his lips, pressing a quick kiss over his cheek before leaning even farther forward to whisper in his ear. "If you /behave/, I'll give you a reward after."
(Never mind that Dazai planned on 'rewarding' him either way, and that he thinks this bratty behavior /is/ +
(Never mind that Dazai planned on 'rewarding' him either way, and that he thinks this bratty behavior /is/ +
adorable. Chuuya doesn't need to know that.)
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Chuuya drops back onto his heels. "Alright, let's go then," he says, stepping out of Dazai's embrace with a barely concealed pout.
The door is opened for him, and he slides in easily. He's been pretty cold+
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Chuuya drops back onto his heels. "Alright, let's go then," he says, stepping out of Dazai's embrace with a barely concealed pout.
The door is opened for him, and he slides in easily. He's been pretty cold+
lately, so the heated seats are a blessing. He curls up in his seat, facing the drivers seat and resting his head against the back.
Once Dazai climbs in, they take off. The drive is further than usual, but when Chuuya asks where they're going, he only gets a secretive smile and+
Once Dazai climbs in, they take off. The drive is further than usual, but when Chuuya asks where they're going, he only gets a secretive smile and+
a "it's a surprise~."
Fine. Chuuya isn't too worried about it, because so far, Dazai has been exceptionally good at picking things that Chuuya enjoys. The flowers, the first dinner, all the meals over this week.
The fact that he has his tastes figured out so easily is kind of+
Fine. Chuuya isn't too worried about it, because so far, Dazai has been exceptionally good at picking things that Chuuya enjoys. The flowers, the first dinner, all the meals over this week.
The fact that he has his tastes figured out so easily is kind of+
shocking, considering Chuuya thinks of himself as a picky eater, but it means he trusts him enough to not demand an answer.
His trust is rewarded when they pull up to the restaurant. Another four-star one, this one marginally more expensive and popular and /famous/ for its+
His trust is rewarded when they pull up to the restaurant. Another four-star one, this one marginally more expensive and popular and /famous/ for its+
wine tasting menu.
“Don’t drink too much,” Dazai says casually as they walk up to the front entrance. He opens the door and lets Chuuya go in first, continuing, “I want you sober for later.”
Oh. Chuuya’s cheeks flush, because as far as innuendos go, it’s /not/ subtle.
Every+
“Don’t drink too much,” Dazai says casually as they walk up to the front entrance. He opens the door and lets Chuuya go in first, continuing, “I want you sober for later.”
Oh. Chuuya’s cheeks flush, because as far as innuendos go, it’s /not/ subtle.
Every+
time they’ve gotten together, things have /escalated/. Each sexual encounter is hotter than the last, pushing Chuuya’s limits a little further each time.
First the dry grinding. Then the phone sex.
He remembers the way Dazai had asked if he’d ever fingered himself, voice +
First the dry grinding. Then the phone sex.
He remembers the way Dazai had asked if he’d ever fingered himself, voice +
thick with longing and curiosity.
Dazai picks up his menu, long fingers curling around the edges, and Chuuya wonders—
Is that what he has planned tonight? He’s only said he wants them sober when he has something /sexual/ in mind, so is that it?
But he also said /last/ time+
Dazai picks up his menu, long fingers curling around the edges, and Chuuya wonders—
Is that what he has planned tonight? He’s only said he wants them sober when he has something /sexual/ in mind, so is that it?
But he also said /last/ time+
that he’d let Chuuya get his hands on him. Admittedly, he is /dying/ to actually see his cock, because just the memory of feeling of it pressed up against him is enough to send shivers of delight up his spine.
Suddenly, he’s a /lot/ more eager for this dinner to end. +
Suddenly, he’s a /lot/ more eager for this dinner to end. +
There are flowers on the table, orange ones. Just like every other date they’ve been on, and seeing them makes Chuuya smile.
It also reminds him. “What’s up with the blank black business card thing?”
Dazai flips the menu page, a thoughtful expression on his face. This place+
It also reminds him. “What’s up with the blank black business card thing?”
Dazai flips the menu page, a thoughtful expression on his face. This place+
has more of the smaller, snack-sized meals and he’s not sure what to get. “I got cards printed for my company, but the first batch came out wrong. I’ve just been using them for reminders, basically.”
Chuuya nods. “That’s exactly what /I/ thought too, but Nikolai thought it was+
Chuuya nods. “That’s exactly what /I/ thought too, but Nikolai thought it was+
weird.”
The plates and glasses for their appetizers get placed down between them. Their waiter—a bored looking college age man, Chuuya is happy to see—takes their orders before leaving.
“Why did he think it was weird?”
“He gave me this whole story about some ‘demon prodigy’.”
The plates and glasses for their appetizers get placed down between them. Their waiter—a bored looking college age man, Chuuya is happy to see—takes their orders before leaving.
“Why did he think it was weird?”
“He gave me this whole story about some ‘demon prodigy’.”
“He /what/?”
Their drinks—wine for Chuuya, whiskey for Dazai— appear quickly.
Chuuya takes an indulgent sip, savoring the taste with a sigh. “Yeah. I told him that I wasn’t scared of some ‘demon prodigy’ thats old enough to be my grandfather.”
Dazai chokes on his whiskey.+
Their drinks—wine for Chuuya, whiskey for Dazai— appear quickly.
Chuuya takes an indulgent sip, savoring the taste with a sigh. “Yeah. I told him that I wasn’t scared of some ‘demon prodigy’ thats old enough to be my grandfather.”
Dazai chokes on his whiskey.+
He has to pound on his chest, coughing, several times before he stops choking.
“Are you okay?” Chuuya asks, starting to get up so he can help. Slap his back or something.
Dazai waves him off, face pale. After a second, he faintly wheezes, “your /grandfather/?”
“Probably.” +
“Are you okay?” Chuuya asks, starting to get up so he can help. Slap his back or something.
Dazai waves him off, face pale. After a second, he faintly wheezes, “your /grandfather/?”
“Probably.” +
(Dazai is lucky their appetizers arrive then, because he feels like he’s been slapped in the face.)
There’s quiet for a moment as they load up their plates, Dazai with mostly meat and vegetables, Chuuya with more fruits and cheeses.
Then, almost /too/ nonchalantly, Dazai asks,+
There’s quiet for a moment as they load up their plates, Dazai with mostly meat and vegetables, Chuuya with more fruits and cheeses.
Then, almost /too/ nonchalantly, Dazai asks,+
“What makes you say that?”
“Well,” Chuuya says, popping a piece of cheese in his mouth, “apparently he terrorized the city 20 years ago, so he /has/ to be old.”
“I heard he was young back then, actually. Handsome. Charming, one might say. The type of person who aged like fine+
“Well,” Chuuya says, popping a piece of cheese in his mouth, “apparently he terrorized the city 20 years ago, so he /has/ to be old.”
“I heard he was young back then, actually. Handsome. Charming, one might say. The type of person who aged like fine+
wine. No, better than that—“
Chuuya snorts, raising an eyebrow at Dazai. “You trying to tell me some pimply-faced teenager that probably didn’t know how to dress ran the underground?”
(For the record, Dazai had a /normal/ amount of pimples. The dressing thing was true though.)+
Chuuya snorts, raising an eyebrow at Dazai. “You trying to tell me some pimply-faced teenager that probably didn’t know how to dress ran the underground?”
(For the record, Dazai had a /normal/ amount of pimples. The dressing thing was true though.)+
He only ever wore ill-fitted suits back then, and that atrocious coat.And the bandages. Those have always been a staple.)
“You know,” Chuuya continues, stomping on every ounce of ego Dazai has left to him,”maybe the kid idea is right. That would explain the stupid black cards.”+
“You know,” Chuuya continues, stomping on every ounce of ego Dazai has left to him,”maybe the kid idea is right. That would explain the stupid black cards.”+
Dazai signals for another whiskey. He didn’t /plan/ on drinking tonight but he’s going to need one when he hears this reasoning. “Stupid?”
“Yeah, I mean—/black cards/?Where’s the /pizzazz/? The drama? The /flair/? Why send ominous black cards when you could do something cooler?+
“Yeah, I mean—/black cards/?Where’s the /pizzazz/? The drama? The /flair/? Why send ominous black cards when you could do something cooler?+
Like— a /severed head/ or something? That’d be a lot scarier!”
Despite himself, Dazai laughs into his drink. “I think the idea would be discretion, doll.”
Rolling his eyes a little, Chuuya finishes off his glass of wine. It was only a tester, so it didn’t have as much liquid+
Despite himself, Dazai laughs into his drink. “I think the idea would be discretion, doll.”
Rolling his eyes a little, Chuuya finishes off his glass of wine. It was only a tester, so it didn’t have as much liquid+
in it as his usual glasses. This time he orders a white wine, this one sweeter. “I think you mean /boring/. Plus, the idea that he would still use them to this day is just as stupid. It’s like he’s asking to get caught.”
Spearing a piece of steak, Dazai puts it in his mouth and+
Spearing a piece of steak, Dazai puts it in his mouth and+
chews on it thoughtfully. “Or it could be used as a fear tactic. People already know what it means, and fear it.”
Chuuya thinks about that for a moment, popping another piece of cheese in his mouth. He’s almost out by now, but the main courses should be arriving soon. “I +
Chuuya thinks about that for a moment, popping another piece of cheese in his mouth. He’s almost out by now, but the main courses should be arriving soon. “I +
guess,” he agrees grudgingly.
The waiter comes around the corner with their plates in hand. Dazai clears off a space for them in the middle, smiling gratefully at the server.
“Either way,” Dazai says, picking up a fork, “you don’t have to worry about him. He won’t hurt you.”+
The waiter comes around the corner with their plates in hand. Dazai clears off a space for them in the middle, smiling gratefully at the server.
“Either way,” Dazai says, picking up a fork, “you don’t have to worry about him. He won’t hurt you.”+
The pasta Chuuya choses pairs /heavenly/ with the white wine, and he savors the first bite on his tongue. As he's swirling his own fork to pick up another bite, he asks, "How do you know that?"
Then, seeing his opportunity to /finally/ get some information on Dazai's 'company'+
Then, seeing his opportunity to /finally/ get some information on Dazai's 'company'+
he continues, "because you're in security? You're going to /protect/ me or whatever?"
Brown eyes flash at him with far too much amusement as Dazai raises another bite to his mouth. "/Exactly/."
He doesn't continue though, and it's so /frustrating/ that all of Chuuya's hints +
Brown eyes flash at him with far too much amusement as Dazai raises another bite to his mouth. "/Exactly/."
He doesn't continue though, and it's so /frustrating/ that all of Chuuya's hints +
go unanswered. He /knows/ Dazai isn't stupid, and that he's picking up on his subtle questions for /more/. He's just /ignoring/ them.
It's not like Chuuya wouldn't understand if he couldn't know because it was dangerous, or classified information or whatever. It'd probably make+
It's not like Chuuya wouldn't understand if he couldn't know because it was dangerous, or classified information or whatever. It'd probably make+
him even /more/ curious, but he could deal with that.
It's the complete and /utter/ lack of communication that's irritating. At least /tell/ him no instead of just side-stepping the conversation.
(At the same time though, he does start to feel a little guilty whenever he feels+
It's the complete and /utter/ lack of communication that's irritating. At least /tell/ him no instead of just side-stepping the conversation.
(At the same time though, he does start to feel a little guilty whenever he feels+
like that, because not only does Dazai not owe him anything--they're not even officially /dating/, he doesn't have the right to demand any information from him-- but it's /also/ the same thing he did to Shuuji, right?
Sidestepping the issue instead of addressing it.)
To cover+
Sidestepping the issue instead of addressing it.)
To cover+
up the flash of guilty irritation, Chuuya takes another sip of wine. "I wasn't too worried anyways. He's either old as hell--" Dazai winces "-- or stupid, and either way I could probably kick his ass if I needed to."
That makes Dazai smile, slow and big, like he knows something+
That makes Dazai smile, slow and big, like he knows something+
Chuuya doesn't know. Like he's got a /secret/. "Is that so?"
"Yeah. I mean," he shrugs, trying not to brag /too/ much, "I was top of my Judo class. I could probably even take /you/."
Granted, he doesn't know what kind of training Dazai actually has, but based on that morning+
"Yeah. I mean," he shrugs, trying not to brag /too/ much, "I was top of my Judo class. I could probably even take /you/."
Granted, he doesn't know what kind of training Dazai actually has, but based on that morning+
with the dog training, he's obviously skilled.
He's also taller, bigger, very likely /stronger/--
But Chuuya has trained to use his size and other peoples underestimations as an advantage.
Dazai raises his whiskey, holding eye contact. "I'd /love/ to see you /take me/." +
He's also taller, bigger, very likely /stronger/--
But Chuuya has trained to use his size and other peoples underestimations as an advantage.
Dazai raises his whiskey, holding eye contact. "I'd /love/ to see you /take me/." +
He says it, so confidently, without even a shred of shame even though the waiter is /approaching/, possibly close enough to hear. And all he does is /watch/, with that smug smirk on his grin as Chuuya processes the innuendo, cheeks slowly turning red.
Somehow, the act of them+
Somehow, the act of them+
being in public, where anyone can hear Dazai's subtly filthy words, makes it /hotter/. More dangerous, more thrilling.
Dazai presses the glass to his lips, and the slide of his tongue against the rim /has/ to be a tease. It's too drawn out to be anything else.
But because of+
Dazai presses the glass to his lips, and the slide of his tongue against the rim /has/ to be a tease. It's too drawn out to be anything else.
But because of+
how long it takes, Chuuya /finally/ catches a glimpse of something shiny in his mouth. Something he'd never seen before.
"What's that?" At Dazai's raised eyebrow, Chuuya explains further, "in your mouth."
There's a tense silence for a moment as Dazai swallows his mouthful of +
"What's that?" At Dazai's raised eyebrow, Chuuya explains further, "in your mouth."
There's a tense silence for a moment as Dazai swallows his mouthful of +
whiskey. With a sharp, teasing glint in his eyes, he opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out.
There's a shiny, metal ball in the middle. A tongue piercing.
Chuuya can't look away, suddenly transfixed on the way the metal moves as his tongue flexes. "How long have you had +
There's a shiny, metal ball in the middle. A tongue piercing.
Chuuya can't look away, suddenly transfixed on the way the metal moves as his tongue flexes. "How long have you had +
that?"
Dazai hums, taking his tongue back. Chuuya can see the subtle flex of his jaw as he rolls the piercing in his mouth. "About five years? Close to that."
"And you haven't been wearing it because...?"
He shrugs a little, looking embarrassed. "When I was cleaning the +
Dazai hums, taking his tongue back. Chuuya can see the subtle flex of his jaw as he rolls the piercing in his mouth. "About five years? Close to that."
"And you haven't been wearing it because...?"
He shrugs a little, looking embarrassed. "When I was cleaning the +
jewelry a few weeks ago, I lost the ball for it. Couldn't put it back in, and the only other jewelry I had are...inappropriate for public use. I only had time to get more jewelry recently."
All very important, very valid reasons. But Chuuya is hung up on /one/ particular detail+
All very important, very valid reasons. But Chuuya is hung up on /one/ particular detail+
of that statement. "Inappropriate /how/?"
"The vibrating tongue rings. They make talking a bit difficult, with how big they are."
(The /point/ of them, actually, is that Dazai /isn't/ supposed to talk. He's supposed to make his /partner/ talk, while he listens to how good of a+
"The vibrating tongue rings. They make talking a bit difficult, with how big they are."
(The /point/ of them, actually, is that Dazai /isn't/ supposed to talk. He's supposed to make his /partner/ talk, while he listens to how good of a+
job he's doing.)
Chuuya feels lightheaded. "They...have /vibrating/ tongue piercings?"
Dazai shrugs like he's not completely altering Chuuya's world in a few sentences. "Yep. Not as strong as real vibrators, but enjoyable all the same."
A vibrator attached to his /tongue/. +
Chuuya feels lightheaded. "They...have /vibrating/ tongue piercings?"
Dazai shrugs like he's not completely altering Chuuya's world in a few sentences. "Yep. Not as strong as real vibrators, but enjoyable all the same."
A vibrator attached to his /tongue/. +
Dazai watches him, amusement growing on his face. His eyes are darker, scorching hot and focused. "If it helps," he says casually, "I've gotten /very/ good reviews when I wear them."
Chuuya isn't even /upset/ about the mention of other people, because all he can think about is+
Chuuya isn't even /upset/ about the mention of other people, because all he can think about is+
/oh god, he can vibrating-tongue me good/.
His mouth is dry, and he very carefully puts his wine down and picks up his glass of water instead.The room is already too hot, with the way Dazai is staring at him, like a wolf that just caught the sheep.
God, he can't even /imagine/+
His mouth is dry, and he very carefully puts his wine down and picks up his glass of water instead.The room is already too hot, with the way Dazai is staring at him, like a wolf that just caught the sheep.
God, he can't even /imagine/+
what Dazai could do with that. Where'd he use his tongue on him. What it'd /feel/ like, hot and wet and flexible and /vibrating/.
Unconciously, he tugs on the choker around his neck because his lungs feel suddenly too small to take a proper breath.
Dazai's eyes fall to the +
Unconciously, he tugs on the choker around his neck because his lungs feel suddenly too small to take a proper breath.
Dazai's eyes fall to the +
motion, zeroing in on the leather around his throat with predatory intent. The air feels thin now, crackling with electricity. "I like the way you look with the coll-- /choker/ I bought you."
Chuuya flushes a little, squirming. He's been wearing it more recently as of late, +
Chuuya flushes a little, squirming. He's been wearing it more recently as of late, +
because the weight of it is grounding, somehow. It's not as good as the memory of Dazai's /hands/ on his neck, but he likes the way it constricts his neck slightly when he swallows.
"Thank you," he mumbles, tugging on the leather again.
By now, Dazai has finished most of his +
"Thank you," he mumbles, tugging on the leather again.
By now, Dazai has finished most of his +
meal. Chuuya's has been untouched for a while, because all the hunger in his stomach has been replaced with a /different/ hunger.
He's full anyway, his stomach shrunken after two weeks of eating once or twice a day max.
"Are you ready?"
/Yes/, Chuuya is ready, for /anything/.+
He's full anyway, his stomach shrunken after two weeks of eating once or twice a day max.
"Are you ready?"
/Yes/, Chuuya is ready, for /anything/.+
He nods, knocking back the rest of his wine in a few swallows. His father would be /scandalized/ if he saw that behavior, but Chuuya is /not/ going to let any wine go to waste. He's not anything remotely close to tipsy, anyways.
Dazai pays for their meals at the front register,+
Dazai pays for their meals at the front register,+
the flash of his black card subtle in the light. Chuuya buries his nose in the flowers to hide the red on his cheeks.
On their way out, Dazai's hand finds it's way to his lower back. It's large, heavy with suggestion and intent. Even through his clothes, it burns with heat. +
On their way out, Dazai's hand finds it's way to his lower back. It's large, heavy with suggestion and intent. Even through his clothes, it burns with heat. +
The car ride home is equally torturous, because his hand settles on Chuuya's thigh and /stays/ there.Occasionally, his fingers will move, stroking a teasing line over the sensitive inside of his thigh.
Chuuya can't help the wiggle of his hips,silently demanding he go /further/+
Chuuya can't help the wiggle of his hips,silently demanding he go /further/+
up, encourage the building heat in his crotch by pressing his palm over it. He's almost half-hard already, and Dazai has barely even /touched/ him.
The fingers stray a /little/ further up, finding the inside seam of his jeans, but it's still so frustratingly far away from where+
The fingers stray a /little/ further up, finding the inside seam of his jeans, but it's still so frustratingly far away from where+
he wants it.
Judging by the pleased smirk on Dazai's face and the way he keeps drawing Chuuya into casual conversation about useless stuff--like his /classes/-- he knows /exactly/ what Chuuya wants, he's just getting satisfaction out of denying him.
The thought of that +
Judging by the pleased smirk on Dazai's face and the way he keeps drawing Chuuya into casual conversation about useless stuff--like his /classes/-- he knows /exactly/ what Chuuya wants, he's just getting satisfaction out of denying him.
The thought of that +
sends a pointed throb of heat through him. He loves when he gets what he wants, of course, but he loves when Dazai /plays/ with him too.
When they /finally/ arrive back home, Chuuya is a mess of anticipation and desire, practically panting in his seat.
Naturally, Dazai takes +
When they /finally/ arrive back home, Chuuya is a mess of anticipation and desire, practically panting in his seat.
Naturally, Dazai takes +
his sweet time parking the car in the garage.Every second feels like /torture/.
Eventually, he shuts the engine off and Chuuya is climbing out of the car as soon as it's stopped,nearly trembling with desperation. His mind is a blurred echo chamber, full of /want/ and /more/ and+
Eventually, he shuts the engine off and Chuuya is climbing out of the car as soon as it's stopped,nearly trembling with desperation. His mind is a blurred echo chamber, full of /want/ and /more/ and+
/Dazai/.
He only has to wait a moment before Dazai is crossing over to him, bearing down on him with an intense expression.
Hands find the back of his thighs, and he yelps, flinging his arms around Dazai’s neck as he picks him up in one smooth motion.
His legs wrap +
He only has to wait a moment before Dazai is crossing over to him, bearing down on him with an intense expression.
Hands find the back of his thighs, and he yelps, flinging his arms around Dazai’s neck as he picks him up in one smooth motion.
His legs wrap +
naturally around his hips, hitching over the swell of his hips.He’s a little taller than him like this, and he has to say that he likes /this/ view the best.
Dazai’s jaw looks sharper when he looks up, his eyes a little brighter. It only takes a single brush of Chuuya’s fingers+
Dazai’s jaw looks sharper when he looks up, his eyes a little brighter. It only takes a single brush of Chuuya’s fingers+
for his hair to lie back, exposing his forehead. It only takes a loose grip on his hair to keep him in place, looking up at him with that melting, soft look in his eyes.
Dazai shifts him a little, frowning. “You’ve lost weight.”
Smiling, Chuuya kisses thé worry off his face.+
Dazai shifts him a little, frowning. “You’ve lost weight.”
Smiling, Chuuya kisses thé worry off his face.+
From this angle, he can better feel the way Dazai pushes up to meet him, jaw working. With his hands in his hair, he can control the angle and the force. He's too eager to wait for the kiss to deepen naturally, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip to ask for entry.
It's one+
It's one+
of the fewer times Chuuya gets his tongue in /Dazai's/ mouth, because the man likes to dominate their kisses and drive Chuuya crazy by fucking his mouth with his tongue.
Then the tongue piercing comes into play,and Chuuya realizes that it adds a /delicious/ element to the kiss.+
Then the tongue piercing comes into play,and Chuuya realizes that it adds a /delicious/ element to the kiss.+
It's hard, almost-rough compared to the softness of his tongue, but it's still slick and moves easily against his own tongue. He can feel the drag of it, the way it moves when Dazai's tongue flexes.
He wants it in his /mouth/, on his skin, on his body.
Dazai shifts him in his+
He wants it in his /mouth/, on his skin, on his body.
Dazai shifts him in his+
arms, taking one hand away so he can fumble one-handed to open the door leading inside. Chuuya hangs on, tightening his legs around his waist.
When the door eventually opens--Dazai is /struggling/ to multitask, something that makes Chuuya hum with satisfaction-- there's a +
When the door eventually opens--Dazai is /struggling/ to multitask, something that makes Chuuya hum with satisfaction-- there's a +
shuffle from just inside. From the panting, it's the dogs, and /usually/ Chuuya would be greeting Yoko with just as much enthusiasm--
But that would mean breaking the kiss and letting go of Dazai when he /finally/ has him where he wants him, between his legs with their bodies+
But that would mean breaking the kiss and letting go of Dazai when he /finally/ has him where he wants him, between his legs with their bodies+
pressed together. He can say hello later, once the building heat in his stomach is satisfied.
Dazai pulls back a little, just enough to mutter a "move, dogs" before he's diving back in, hands tightening on the back of his thighs.
By the scrambling, the dogs are moving out of +
Dazai pulls back a little, just enough to mutter a "move, dogs" before he's diving back in, hands tightening on the back of his thighs.
By the scrambling, the dogs are moving out of +
way and Dazai is free to stumble his way forwards, blindly making his way upstairs.
Chuuya is too busy sucking on his tongue,shivering when the metal ball drags against the roof of his mouth and clicking almost-painfully against the back of his teeth, to even feel worried about+
Chuuya is too busy sucking on his tongue,shivering when the metal ball drags against the roof of his mouth and clicking almost-painfully against the back of his teeth, to even feel worried about+
the threat of falling.
He runs his nails over the short hairs at the back of Dazai's neck, relishing in the short, rumbling noise it earns him.
Another shift as Dazai opens up his office door, stepping inside before kicking it shut behind them. Excitement builds, because +
He runs his nails over the short hairs at the back of Dazai's neck, relishing in the short, rumbling noise it earns him.
Another shift as Dazai opens up his office door, stepping inside before kicking it shut behind them. Excitement builds, because +
Dazai is taking him to his room, to his /bed/, kissing him like Chuuya is the very air he needs. Like he has no intention of /stopping/.
He's been in his room before, but it feels /different/ now. The red lighting is darker, more inviting, the air hotter, the silence deafening +
He's been in his room before, but it feels /different/ now. The red lighting is darker, more inviting, the air hotter, the silence deafening +
beyond the wet sound of their kissing.
All Chuuya can taste is Dazai, sour whiskey on his tongue, all he can smell is the expensive cologne he wears, stormclouds on an icy sea, all he can /feel/ is Dazai underneath him, pressed against him, too much and /not enough/.
The +
All Chuuya can taste is Dazai, sour whiskey on his tongue, all he can smell is the expensive cologne he wears, stormclouds on an icy sea, all he can /feel/ is Dazai underneath him, pressed against him, too much and /not enough/.
The +
support drops out underneath him, and for a moment, he's freefalling backwards, heart jumping in his chest.
Just as quickly, his back into sinking into the mattress. He bounces up slightly from the momentum, eyes wide.
Dazai follows him down, hands braced on either side of +
Just as quickly, his back into sinking into the mattress. He bounces up slightly from the momentum, eyes wide.
Dazai follows him down, hands braced on either side of +
his head. One knee sinks into the mattress between Chuuya's thighs,his body hovering an inch above him.
Sometimes, it's easy to forget just how /broad/ Dazai is. He rarely has to impress or intimidate with his height, and while he /is/ dominating, that comes more from his aura.+
Sometimes, it's easy to forget just how /broad/ Dazai is. He rarely has to impress or intimidate with his height, and while he /is/ dominating, that comes more from his aura.+
From his attitude, his /presence/.
Now though, it's impossible to miss the size difference. He covers Chuuya completely, heavy and impossible to escape even though he's still hovering over him.
He blocks out the rest of the world. The only thing he can see is the gleam of +
Now though, it's impossible to miss the size difference. He covers Chuuya completely, heavy and impossible to escape even though he's still hovering over him.
He blocks out the rest of the world. The only thing he can see is the gleam of +
red in dark eyes, sweet hellfire, the way his features look even sharper in the low lighting. His once-crisp shirt is now rumpled and half-pulled out of his slacks, his hair wild and standing on end.
"Hi," Chuuya says breathlessly, smile too big to contain. Fisting his hands in+
"Hi," Chuuya says breathlessly, smile too big to contain. Fisting his hands in+
Dazai's shirt, he pulls him down again.
"Hello," he murmurs back, sinking into the kiss easily.
It's /hotter/ with Dazai pressing him into the mattress, infinitely more exciting as he captures Chuuya's bottom lip and gives it a slow, indulgent suck.
His breathing shudders, +
"Hello," he murmurs back, sinking into the kiss easily.
It's /hotter/ with Dazai pressing him into the mattress, infinitely more exciting as he captures Chuuya's bottom lip and gives it a slow, indulgent suck.
His breathing shudders, +
a choked noise trapped in his throat. He squirms, filled with the burning, aching desire for something /more/. The knee is still between his thighs, just barely brushing over his crotch.
It's not even a real taste of friction, but it already has Chuuya arching up, chasing the+
It's not even a real taste of friction, but it already has Chuuya arching up, chasing the+
sensation with his hips.
Dazai drops to one elbow, freeing his other hand to wander down. Long fingers find his hip, wrapping around the width of it. His thumb, scorching hot, presses against the sensitive skin just above his waistband, where his shirt has ridden up.
Teeth +
Dazai drops to one elbow, freeing his other hand to wander down. Long fingers find his hip, wrapping around the width of it. His thumb, scorching hot, presses against the sensitive skin just above his waistband, where his shirt has ridden up.
Teeth +
sink into his lip, pulling a sharp noise from him as his hips buck instinctively. The hand on his hip slides inward, fingertips toying with the hem.
His lip gets stretched to a sting as Dazai pulls back, letting him escape /slowly/. When it pops free, he asks breathlessly in +
His lip gets stretched to a sting as Dazai pulls back, letting him escape /slowly/. When it pops free, he asks breathlessly in +
the space between them, "Can I?"
He doesn't know exactly /what/ Dazai is asking about, but the answer is always the same:
Yes, yes, /please/ yes.
His hand slides under his shirt, palm scraping over his belly in a way that has him shivering. Every inch of skin feels +
He doesn't know exactly /what/ Dazai is asking about, but the answer is always the same:
Yes, yes, /please/ yes.
His hand slides under his shirt, palm scraping over his belly in a way that has him shivering. Every inch of skin feels +
hypersensitive, attuned to Dazai's every touch as he /slowly/ explores the muscles of his abdomen.His fingertips graze the outline of his abs, finding the vee of his hips and following it down, down, /down/--
A finger dips under the waistband of his jeans, the flat nail swiping+
A finger dips under the waistband of his jeans, the flat nail swiping+
over the skin just underneath, teasing at the trail of hair leading downwards.
Chuuya makes a desperate noise, hips arching up as his head falls back. Dazai's /right/ there, so close he can almost taste it, the ghost of his touch over him, just a /little/ more--
The finger +
Chuuya makes a desperate noise, hips arching up as his head falls back. Dazai's /right/ there, so close he can almost taste it, the ghost of his touch over him, just a /little/ more--
The finger +
moves upward again, leaving him hard and wanting.
His frustrated snarl is met with an amused smile, Dazai brushing a kiss over his lips. "Don't be so /impatient/, baby. I'll take care of you."
His shirt is pushed up as far as it will go, but Dazai seems unwilling to lift up +
His frustrated snarl is met with an amused smile, Dazai brushing a kiss over his lips. "Don't be so /impatient/, baby. I'll take care of you."
His shirt is pushed up as far as it will go, but Dazai seems unwilling to lift up +
long enough for him to actually slide it off.
"I know /exactly/ what you need," Dazai murmurs,trailing kisses over his jaw and down onto his neck. His teeth scrape over his pulse point, sending shockwaves of sensation down his spine.
"What you want," he continues, opening his+
"I know /exactly/ what you need," Dazai murmurs,trailing kisses over his jaw and down onto his neck. His teeth scrape over his pulse point, sending shockwaves of sensation down his spine.
"What you want," he continues, opening his+
mouth to /suck/, his metal ball of his tongue piercing swirling over his skin. At the same time, his knee slides a little further forward, /finally/ pressing against Chuuya's erection.
He gasps at the friction, arching his back and grinding his hips up. The friction bursts +
He gasps at the friction, arching his back and grinding his hips up. The friction bursts +
over him hotly, pleasure crawling through his veins.
"I know /exactly/ how to give it to you," Dazai breathes over the spot he just marked,the hot-cold sensation of breath over drying saliva maddening.
He moves down, finding the line of his collarbone and tracing it downwards+
"I know /exactly/ how to give it to you," Dazai breathes over the spot he just marked,the hot-cold sensation of breath over drying saliva maddening.
He moves down, finding the line of his collarbone and tracing it downwards+
until his path is obstructed by the shirt. Then he's moving downward, taking the time to tug the cloth even farther up with his teeth.
His breath washes hot over his chest, weight shifting backwards. Chuuya's hands naturally find his shoulders, clenching there as he twitches +
His breath washes hot over his chest, weight shifting backwards. Chuuya's hands naturally find his shoulders, clenching there as he twitches +
beneath him.
"Please," he mutters, "Dazai. I want--"
He cuts himself off there,because he doesn't /know/ what he wants, doesn't have enough experience to translate the aching emptiness growing in his bones into /words/. Everything Dazai does seems to just ignite him further,+
"Please," he mutters, "Dazai. I want--"
He cuts himself off there,because he doesn't /know/ what he wants, doesn't have enough experience to translate the aching emptiness growing in his bones into /words/. Everything Dazai does seems to just ignite him further,+
satisfying one hunger just to spark another, deeper one.
It never feels like /enough/, his body so greedy for more that he feels strung out with it.
"I know, Chuuya," Dazai shushes him, moving over. His next breath washes over his left nipple. "I'm gonna give it to you, so +
It never feels like /enough/, his body so greedy for more that he feels strung out with it.
"I know, Chuuya," Dazai shushes him, moving over. His next breath washes over his left nipple. "I'm gonna give it to you, so +
just trust me, hm?"
Chuuya never really thought of his chest as /sensitive/, especially nothing close to what was described in novels or online, but now he's starting to realize that anticipation does /wonders/ for that.
He's built up for a long few moments, the scrape of +
Chuuya never really thought of his chest as /sensitive/, especially nothing close to what was described in novels or online, but now he's starting to realize that anticipation does /wonders/ for that.
He's built up for a long few moments, the scrape of +
his teeth /near/ his nipple, the teasing swirl of his tongue a few centimeters away.
He's practically vibrating with anticipation and hyper-sensitivity by the time Dazai takes mercy on him and swipes his tongue over him in one broad stroke.
The piercing adds a distinct +
He's practically vibrating with anticipation and hyper-sensitivity by the time Dazai takes mercy on him and swipes his tongue over him in one broad stroke.
The piercing adds a distinct +
sensation in the middle, hard metal that rolls over him mercilessly. It's different than the soft-warm feeling of his tongue, the suction that makes Chuuya feel like Dazai is pulling directly on his soul.
"Oh," he sighs, shivering a little. He /likes/ this, more than he ever+
"Oh," he sighs, shivering a little. He /likes/ this, more than he ever+
thought he would. His hips have picked up an unconscious rhythm, grinding lightly against what he can reach of Dazai's thigh.
Dazai hums in reaction, his hand reaching around the other side to slide underneath his back. He pulls up on his next suck, encouraging the arch of his+
Dazai hums in reaction, his hand reaching around the other side to slide underneath his back. He pulls up on his next suck, encouraging the arch of his+
spine.
The slight vibration has him gasping on a breath, one hand sliding down in the gap between the collar of Dazai's shirt and his body. He digs his nails in, blocked from skin by a layer of something made with rough fabric. It feels almost like the same material as the +
The slight vibration has him gasping on a breath, one hand sliding down in the gap between the collar of Dazai's shirt and his body. He digs his nails in, blocked from skin by a layer of something made with rough fabric. It feels almost like the same material as the +
bandages around his wrists and forearms.
(Later, he'll wonder /why/ Dazai wears them, but for now, his mind is preoccupied by melting under the thought of how the /vibrating/ piercing would feel against his nipple.)
With the way he's laying, he can't reach under Dazai to +
(Later, he'll wonder /why/ Dazai wears them, but for now, his mind is preoccupied by melting under the thought of how the /vibrating/ piercing would feel against his nipple.)
With the way he's laying, he can't reach under Dazai to +
unbutton his shirt, but he's /desperate/ for more skin. He has to settle for pulling on the back of it, tugging it completely free from his slacks. Hooking one leg around Dazai's hip, he tries to use his knee to force the shirt farther up.
He gets distracted halfway through +
He gets distracted halfway through +
when the increased angle makes his erection press harder against Dazai's thigh.He grinds there, little circular motions that make stars burst in his vision.
"Do you /want/ something, beautiful?"
It's not /fair/ how good Dazai sounds like this, a little breathless from exertion+
"Do you /want/ something, beautiful?"
It's not /fair/ how good Dazai sounds like this, a little breathless from exertion+
and voice rasping from his throat. There's a /hint/ of smug arrogance in his tone, but Chuuya will forgive him this time, because he's swirling his tongue over him again.
Naturally, as soon as he opens his mouth to respond, Dazai is biting down on his nipple. He cries out,
Naturally, as soon as he opens his mouth to respond, Dazai is biting down on his nipple. He cries out,
twitching hard at the sharp sting, nails sinking into his back.
The slight pain is soothed away but how /hot/ Dazai's mouth is, and the way he flexes his tongue to make the metal ball of his piercing flick over the sensitized tip. The longer he spends on his chest, the tighter+
The slight pain is soothed away but how /hot/ Dazai's mouth is, and the way he flexes his tongue to make the metal ball of his piercing flick over the sensitized tip. The longer he spends on his chest, the tighter+
his stomach gets, the better it feels.
"Off," he manages to pant after a long moment, tugging at Dazai's shirt again. "I want to feel you."
There's a sharp, rumbling noise muffled against his chest. The hand holding him up tightens briefly, fingertips digging in. The knee +
"Off," he manages to pant after a long moment, tugging at Dazai's shirt again. "I want to feel you."
There's a sharp, rumbling noise muffled against his chest. The hand holding him up tightens briefly, fingertips digging in. The knee +
presses down /harder/, and with the way one of his thighs is hooked over Dazai's hip--
The tent in Dazai's slacks presses against the back of his thigh, teasing him with friction and how /hard/ it is, almost as excited as he is.
Then the hand is sliding from underneath his +
The tent in Dazai's slacks presses against the back of his thigh, teasing him with friction and how /hard/ it is, almost as excited as he is.
Then the hand is sliding from underneath his +
back, fingertips grazing over his side in a way that makes tingles run down his spine.
It's probably not a coincidence, the way the back of Dazai's fingers brush over his chest as he unbuttons his own shirt. Every button is an inch lower than the last, and Chuuya's breathing +
It's probably not a coincidence, the way the back of Dazai's fingers brush over his chest as he unbuttons his own shirt. Every button is an inch lower than the last, and Chuuya's breathing +
is speeding him. His entire awareness is focused on the way his fingers trail downwards steadily, brushing over his chest, then his sternum.
His abs.
His lower belly, so /close/, and he's breathless and tense with anticipation, hips arching up as high as they will go so that +
His abs.
His lower belly, so /close/, and he's breathless and tense with anticipation, hips arching up as high as they will go so that +
Dazai brush over his trapped erection--
Instead, Dazai pulls his shirt up more, pulling the last bit free from his belt before unbuttoning the last three buttons. His fingers graze teasingly over the waistband of Chuuya's jeans, but no further.
If they were kissing right now,+
Instead, Dazai pulls his shirt up more, pulling the last bit free from his belt before unbuttoning the last three buttons. His fingers graze teasingly over the waistband of Chuuya's jeans, but no further.
If they were kissing right now,+
Chuuya probably would've bitten him out of sheer frustration. Instead, he throws his head back onto the mattress, digging his heel into Dazai's ass with as much force as he can muster.
There's another laugh muffled against his skin as Dazai switches sides, transferring his +
There's another laugh muffled against his skin as Dazai switches sides, transferring his +
attention to the other nipple. The other one is left to cool in the air, throbbing lightly with the way Dazai had been sucking on it.
"So /impatient/," he teases, nipping at his sensitive flesh, "Don't you want to /savor/ it?"
Logically, he /does/ want to spend eternity here,+
"So /impatient/," he teases, nipping at his sensitive flesh, "Don't you want to /savor/ it?"
Logically, he /does/ want to spend eternity here,+
strung out and gasping between Dazai's very capable hands. His /body/, however, demands more action, over-riding his thoughts with the deepening desire for /more/, racing to the edge as fast as possible.
This time, when Dazai leans down, their bare chests press together +
This time, when Dazai leans down, their bare chests press together +
tightly, hot warm skin making him shudder. There's a section of Dazai's chest covered up by fabric--more bandages, Chuuya can guess by the flash of white he can see peeking out from underneath the back of his shirt-- but the sensation change from soft-hot skin to rough-+
flimsy fabric just means that Chuuya never gets used to either of the sensations.
"Stop teasing me," he manages to grumble, wiggling his hips demandingly.
A sharp bite is his punishment, a merciless grind of Dazai's thigh against his neglected erection. "I /like/ teasing you,+
"Stop teasing me," he manages to grumble, wiggling his hips demandingly.
A sharp bite is his punishment, a merciless grind of Dazai's thigh against his neglected erection. "I /like/ teasing you,+
sweetheart. I'm sure you like it too, based on how /hard/ you are for me right now."
It's true, but it's also so /frustrating/.He's torn between opposing desires, stretching thin beneath the strain.
"But I suppose," Dazai continues on a sigh, shifting his body so he reach down+
It's true, but it's also so /frustrating/.He's torn between opposing desires, stretching thin beneath the strain.
"But I suppose," Dazai continues on a sigh, shifting his body so he reach down+
and wrap his hand around the back of his thigh and guide it to hook around his other hip. "If you really /can't/ wait, then I should take mercy on you, hm?"
They're back in their original position from before-- Chuuya with his legs wrapped around Dazai's waist-- but now Dazai +
They're back in their original position from before-- Chuuya with his legs wrapped around Dazai's waist-- but now Dazai +
is over him, /on top/ of him, pressing him down with delicious weight--
And the bulge in his pants is pressed against his ass, so tempting that Chuuya isn't even intimidated by it. He rocks down, pleasure flashing through him and enhanced by the way Dazai sucks in a sharp +
And the bulge in his pants is pressed against his ass, so tempting that Chuuya isn't even intimidated by it. He rocks down, pleasure flashing through him and enhanced by the way Dazai sucks in a sharp +
breath.
Suddenly, Dazai is shifting upwards, leaving his chest as twin points of over-sensitization. His lips brush over his collarbone, over the straining tendons in his neck, the pounding pulse.
It's only when his mouth is level with Chuuya's ear that he stops, breathing +
Suddenly, Dazai is shifting upwards, leaving his chest as twin points of over-sensitization. His lips brush over his collarbone, over the straining tendons in his neck, the pounding pulse.
It's only when his mouth is level with Chuuya's ear that he stops, breathing +
hot enough to make him shiver.
"If you want me," he murmurs, voice dripping with temptation and punctuating his words with a subtle rock of his hips, "then /touch/ me."
Turning his head, Chuuya catches him in a kiss. It's instantly deeper, harder than the last, dominating in+
"If you want me," he murmurs, voice dripping with temptation and punctuating his words with a subtle rock of his hips, "then /touch/ me."
Turning his head, Chuuya catches him in a kiss. It's instantly deeper, harder than the last, dominating in+
the way Dazai is sliding his tongue into his mouth and /demanding/ a response from him.
His hands slide over his shoulders, finally able to get to the skin underneath. The muscles of his arms are still covered up though, so Chuuya tugs on the fabric in silent request.
The +
His hands slide over his shoulders, finally able to get to the skin underneath. The muscles of his arms are still covered up though, so Chuuya tugs on the fabric in silent request.
The +
kiss is broken for a moment as Dazai leans up, shrugging out of his shirt in record time. His muscles flex under the skin, highlighted by the red light in the room and he looks like the devil himself, beautifully dangerous.
After a second of just /admiring/ him, nearly struck+
After a second of just /admiring/ him, nearly struck+
dumb by the sheer beauty of the man on top of him, Chuuya realizes this is /probably/ a good time to take off his own shirt.
It's a little difficult to get off with the limited space, but he manages it with a series of strategic wiggles. As the fabric slides over his face, his+
It's a little difficult to get off with the limited space, but he manages it with a series of strategic wiggles. As the fabric slides over his face, his+
vision is blocked for a moment, leaving him in darkness.
When it comes over his head, he barely gets a glimpse of Dazai before he's descending on him with a hot, open-mouthed kiss--
And from there, it /devolves/.
Chuuya's hands are filled with scorching skin and rippling +
When it comes over his head, he barely gets a glimpse of Dazai before he's descending on him with a hot, open-mouthed kiss--
And from there, it /devolves/.
Chuuya's hands are filled with scorching skin and rippling +
muscles. Every grind of his body up is met with a pointed thrust /down/, pleasure and heat and tension building between them.
At one point, Chuuya's fingers brush over the bandages wrapped around Dazai's chest and forearms. Dazai pulls back a fraction, murmuring a response to+
At one point, Chuuya's fingers brush over the bandages wrapped around Dazai's chest and forearms. Dazai pulls back a fraction, murmuring a response to+
his silent question. "They stay on."
In the back of his mind, Chuuya /is/ curious, because he's seen Dazai wear bandages often and he's not sure why. He's never given any indication that he was injured, and it's only over a few particular spots--his forearms up to the elbow and+
In the back of his mind, Chuuya /is/ curious, because he's seen Dazai wear bandages often and he's not sure why. He's never given any indication that he was injured, and it's only over a few particular spots--his forearms up to the elbow and+
his chest and a few times, his neck.
It never seems to bother him when Chuuya grabs him there, and when he's /not/ wearing them, his skin is a smooth, almost too-even color that speaks of correctional make-up.
But at this moment, he doesn't /care/ what is underneath them. He+
It never seems to bother him when Chuuya grabs him there, and when he's /not/ wearing them, his skin is a smooth, almost too-even color that speaks of correctional make-up.
But at this moment, he doesn't /care/ what is underneath them. He+
only cares about dragging his nails over his skin to hear that rumble in Dazai's chest, breaking the kiss to trail a series of feverish kisses over Dazai's jaw and down his neck, the way that every harsh breath between them sparks electricity along every one of his nerves. +
Dazai shifts up, offering his neck to him. He's probably not as skilled as he is, but he makes up for it in sheer /enthusiasm/, biting and sucking like he might never get the chance again.
When he sinks his teeth into the pounding pulse beneath the skin, Dazai releases a +
When he sinks his teeth into the pounding pulse beneath the skin, Dazai releases a +
low groan. The sound itself is like a bolt of lightning, but it's paired with a stronger, /slower/ roll of his hips, so Chuuya can feel every centimeter of friction between them and--
He /moans/ in response, a choked noise from the back of his throat that's muffled against +
He /moans/ in response, a choked noise from the back of his throat that's muffled against +
his neck.
"Fuck," Dazai breathes out, thrusting down again to pull /another/ sound from Chuuya.
God, it feels /so/ good, he doesn't even care that they don't even have their pants unbuttoned. Their bare chests slide together, and the pressure of their grinding is /enough/, +
"Fuck," Dazai breathes out, thrusting down again to pull /another/ sound from Chuuya.
God, it feels /so/ good, he doesn't even care that they don't even have their pants unbuttoned. Their bare chests slide together, and the pressure of their grinding is /enough/, +
making Chuuya mindless.
Suddenly, Dazai is pulling away completely, making Chuuya whine in protest as he tries to hang on.
Where is he going? Why is he /stopping/? Chuuya is halfway to orgasm already, Dazai can't stop /now/.
"Wait--" he gasps as Dazai slides out from +
Suddenly, Dazai is pulling away completely, making Chuuya whine in protest as he tries to hang on.
Where is he going? Why is he /stopping/? Chuuya is halfway to orgasm already, Dazai can't stop /now/.
"Wait--" he gasps as Dazai slides out from +
underneath is grip. "Don't /stop/. Where are you--."
"Easy, baby," Dazai cuts him off, bending down at the side of the bed. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm just getting something."
Confused, Chuuya props himself up on his elbows, watching as Dazai pulls out a drawer from +
"Easy, baby," Dazai cuts him off, bending down at the side of the bed. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm just getting something."
Confused, Chuuya props himself up on his elbows, watching as Dazai pulls out a drawer from +
underneath his bed. He didn't even /know/ there were drawers underneath the bed, he just thought it was wood paneling.
From this angle, he can't see much, but what he /does/ see--
"Are those /sex toys?!"
Dazai smiles without looking at him, rifling through the drawer for +
From this angle, he can't see much, but what he /does/ see--
"Are those /sex toys?!"
Dazai smiles without looking at him, rifling through the drawer for +
something specific. "No. /This/ is lube. The toys are in the other drawers."
An /entire/ drawer full of lube only? Is that /normal/? "How many drawers do you have?"
"Under the bed? Six. Three on each side. There's more in the closet."
The man has more than /six/ drawers full+
An /entire/ drawer full of lube only? Is that /normal/? "How many drawers do you have?"
"Under the bed? Six. Three on each side. There's more in the closet."
The man has more than /six/ drawers full+
of toys, and Chuuya has been /sleeping/ above them, completely unaware. He can't even imagine what that many toys looks like. He doesn't even have /lube/. "How many do you /have/?"
Dazai plucks something out of the drawer before shutting it. Chuuya can't see what he has in hand+
Dazai plucks something out of the drawer before shutting it. Chuuya can't see what he has in hand+
but he /can/ see the amused smirk on his lips as he crawls back onto the bed. "Mm, I'm not sure. Maybe you can help me count them, someday. For now," he pauses, slipping his fingertip underneath the waistband of his jeans, "can I?"
With the pause, Chuuya's desperation has died+
With the pause, Chuuya's desperation has died+
down a little bit. Not enough to make him say /no/-- he doesn't think he'd ever say no, truthfully-- but enough that saying /yes/ makes his stomach clench with nerves.
Perhaps Dazai senses that, because he's leaning back down over him as soon as Chuuya nods.
Kissing is +
Perhaps Dazai senses that, because he's leaning back down over him as soon as Chuuya nods.
Kissing is +
familiar territory by now, and so is the feeling of Dazai settling between his legs. It starts off reassuring, or maybe gentle, but quickly escalates as soon as Dazai sucks his lower lip into his mouth at the same time he rolls his hips forward again.
A hand finds Chuuya's hip,+
A hand finds Chuuya's hip,+
encouraging him to find and match the rhythm he's setting up.
Before long, he's grinding back with desperation, moaning into Dazai's mouth every time their hips meet. He's tightening his legs to increase the pressure, because every rock is winding the tension tighter and he's+
Before long, he's grinding back with desperation, moaning into Dazai's mouth every time their hips meet. He's tightening his legs to increase the pressure, because every rock is winding the tension tighter and he's+
addicted to the searing pleasure that pulses through him each time.
Then the hand is sliding inwards, slowly enough that Chuuya could protest if he wanted to.
But the only thing he /can/ do is shudder on a broken whine as Dazai's hand /finally/ touches his erection. It's over+
Then the hand is sliding inwards, slowly enough that Chuuya could protest if he wanted to.
But the only thing he /can/ do is shudder on a broken whine as Dazai's hand /finally/ touches his erection. It's over+
his pants still, but /fuck/, the direct pressure is /so/ much better. He palms him, smirking as Chuuya's mouth goes slack on a drawn-out moan.
"There you go," Dazai murmurs, almost to himself. With the next rub of his hand, he breaks the kiss in favor of finding the line of his+
"There you go," Dazai murmurs, almost to himself. With the next rub of his hand, he breaks the kiss in favor of finding the line of his+
jaw and littering it with bites.
One of his hands sinks into Dazai's hair and the other finds his shoulder, hanging on tightly as the pleasure mounts with every stroke of Dazai's hand.
Then slim, capable fingers find the button of his jeans and pop it open one-handed. The +
One of his hands sinks into Dazai's hair and the other finds his shoulder, hanging on tightly as the pleasure mounts with every stroke of Dazai's hand.
Then slim, capable fingers find the button of his jeans and pop it open one-handed. The +
release of pressure itself-- he was so preoccupied that he didn't even realize how painful the restriction was starting to become-- makes him shudder with relief, but the heat of Dazai's fingers, sliding beneath his jeans, makes him /moan/.
There's a damp spot from where he's +
There's a damp spot from where he's +
been leaking pre-cum, and Dazai finds it embarrassingly quick. The way he swirls his finger over the head of his cock hidden underneath, tapping lightly just to see him shudder and twitch, drives Chuuya /insane/.
"Look how /eager/ you are for me," Dazai muses, sucking on a spot+
"Look how /eager/ you are for me," Dazai muses, sucking on a spot+
just below the hinge of his jaw that makes his eyes roll back in his head. "I've barely even /done/ anything to you."
Something about /that/, the gentle teasing, sparks something defiant in Chuuya. Yes, he's eager and desperate, but it's not like Dazai is unaffected either. He+
Something about /that/, the gentle teasing, sparks something defiant in Chuuya. Yes, he's eager and desperate, but it's not like Dazai is unaffected either. He+
can feel the erection pressing against his ass, the way he's grinding forward even now.
With the surge of reckless bravery that fills him, Chuuya lets go of his shoulder and slides it down his body. His fingers brush over Dazai's, and his hand stops. Probably assuming that +
With the surge of reckless bravery that fills him, Chuuya lets go of his shoulder and slides it down his body. His fingers brush over Dazai's, and his hand stops. Probably assuming that +
he's reaching down to /stop/ him--
But no. That's not what he's doing.
Instead, he's wiggling his hand between them and covering the bulge in Dazai's pants with it. He /almost/ gets distracted when he realizes that his palm /barely/ covers the whole thing, but the sharp+
But no. That's not what he's doing.
Instead, he's wiggling his hand between them and covering the bulge in Dazai's pants with it. He /almost/ gets distracted when he realizes that his palm /barely/ covers the whole thing, but the sharp+
inhale and the impulsive thrust against him reminds him.
Filling his voice with as much arrogance as he can manage, he responds, "I'm not the only /eager/ one, am I?"
There's a silent pause as Dazai takes a moment to process his words, distracted by the way Chuuya squeezes+
Filling his voice with as much arrogance as he can manage, he responds, "I'm not the only /eager/ one, am I?"
There's a silent pause as Dazai takes a moment to process his words, distracted by the way Chuuya squeezes+
him. Then he's laughing softly, giving him another kiss.
"You're right," he agrees, "I /am/ eager. How could I not be when I have such a /pretty/ little thing like you underneath me? Especially knowing what I'm about to do to you?"
Somehow, Chuuya's plans /always/ backfire.+
"You're right," he agrees, "I /am/ eager. How could I not be when I have such a /pretty/ little thing like you underneath me? Especially knowing what I'm about to do to you?"
Somehow, Chuuya's plans /always/ backfire.+
His mind goes blank at the words, erection throbbing hard against Dazai’s hand. He can almost feel the way another drop of pre-cum wells up, only to be rubbed into the fabric of his underwear.
That makes Dazai give another short laugh, this one infinitely more smug. He grinds+
That makes Dazai give another short laugh, this one infinitely more smug. He grinds+
his hips forward into Chuuya’s hand, increasing the pressure between them.
“Well, sweetheart? I /did/ say you could get your hands on me. Nows your chance,” Dazai offers directly into his ear. His fingers are moving up, dipping into the waistband of his underwear and beginning+
“Well, sweetheart? I /did/ say you could get your hands on me. Nows your chance,” Dazai offers directly into his ear. His fingers are moving up, dipping into the waistband of his underwear and beginning+
to tug them down, centimeter by centimeter.
And with that tempting voice in his ear, the feel of him in his palm, the desperation that builds with every inch of his heated skin that’s exposed to the cooler air—
How could Chuuya /not/ give in?
He fumbles more at the button+
And with that tempting voice in his ear, the feel of him in his palm, the desperation that builds with every inch of his heated skin that’s exposed to the cooler air—
How could Chuuya /not/ give in?
He fumbles more at the button+
than Dazai did, but it’s hard to /focus/ when Dazai is biting his neck like that and with the way his fingers are /so/ close to where Chuuya wants them to be.
Eventually he gets it undone, and he’s marginally more careful with the zipper because it feels like Dazai fills his+
Eventually he gets it undone, and he’s marginally more careful with the zipper because it feels like Dazai fills his+
slacks entirely, and he doesn’t want to hurt him.
He’s glad he did, because instead of being greeted with another layer of fabric, instead he’s met with hot, hard, pulsating flesh as soon as he pulls the zipper down.
/He’s not wearing underwear/.
“Oh,” he gasps out, a+
He’s glad he did, because instead of being greeted with another layer of fabric, instead he’s met with hot, hard, pulsating flesh as soon as he pulls the zipper down.
/He’s not wearing underwear/.
“Oh,” he gasps out, a+
unintentional sound of surprise. He can feel Dazai’s amused smile against his neck from the outburst.
“Let me see your hand,” he says, lifting up a little bit on his knees.
Chuuya is distracted, staring at the line of neatly-trimmed hair that continues down, down, /down/— +
“Let me see your hand,” he says, lifting up a little bit on his knees.
Chuuya is distracted, staring at the line of neatly-trimmed hair that continues down, down, /down/— +
Dazai is still tucked into the fabric of his slacks, but Chuuya can see the /base/ of his cock, flushed red and thick.
“Hand, chibi.”
Blinking back to himself, he offers out his hand, palm up.
Dazai picks up the discarded lube bottle and opens the cap. The little /pop/ +
“Hand, chibi.”
Blinking back to himself, he offers out his hand, palm up.
Dazai picks up the discarded lube bottle and opens the cap. The little /pop/ +
sends a shiver through him.
A decent amount of lube is poured into his palm, cold and wet and sticky. He unintentionally makes a little face, tipping his hand to watch the little pool slide slowly over his palm.
“Rub your fingers together. It’s the warming kind.”
+
A decent amount of lube is poured into his palm, cold and wet and sticky. He unintentionally makes a little face, tipping his hand to watch the little pool slide slowly over his palm.
“Rub your fingers together. It’s the warming kind.”
+
Chuuya looks up at him, slightly confused but already rubbing his fingers through the lube. It’s wet, a little sticky. Feels exactly like regular lube would, he guesses, not whatever ‘warming’ type Dazai said. “What do you mean?”
The smile he gets is wolffish, amused. “Trust me+
The smile he gets is wolffish, amused. “Trust me+
you’ll like it. Can I take these off?”
He tugs at the waistbands of his pants and underwear. They’re barely on at this point, hanging off his hips and barely covering up his erection.
Chuuya has never been /particularly/ shy about his body, so it only takes him a moment to +
He tugs at the waistbands of his pants and underwear. They’re barely on at this point, hanging off his hips and barely covering up his erection.
Chuuya has never been /particularly/ shy about his body, so it only takes him a moment to +
give a breathless nod. He's too excited to think about anything else other than what happens /next/.He doesn't know what Dazai is going to do to him, but the prospect of finding out has never been more appealing.
His shoes--he didn't have time to kick them off earlier, but he's+
His shoes--he didn't have time to kick them off earlier, but he's+
not even stepped a single foot into the house himself, so he doesn't feel /too/ bad about it--get yanked off with an eagerness that is almost funny to witness, tossed to the floor without a second thought.
His jeans and underwear are next. These are taken off slowly, like Dazai+
His jeans and underwear are next. These are taken off slowly, like Dazai+
is savoring every inch of skin that's revealed. Chuuya lifts his hips to make it easier for him, wiggling a little because these /are/ one of his tightest pairs of jeans.
When they finally come off, he's expecting for Dazai to dive back in. Pin him down again, maybe show him+
When they finally come off, he's expecting for Dazai to dive back in. Pin him down again, maybe show him+
what he has planned for the lube in his hand--
But no. Instead, he just takes in the view. Chuuya, spread out naked on his bed for /him/, cock hard and leaking against his stomach, strong thighs trembling slightly.
This whole time, Dazai has been /rather/ restrained. Obviously+
But no. Instead, he just takes in the view. Chuuya, spread out naked on his bed for /him/, cock hard and leaking against his stomach, strong thighs trembling slightly.
This whole time, Dazai has been /rather/ restrained. Obviously+
enjoying himself, but in control.
Now though, the longer he stares at Chuuya, eyes darkening, the /hungrier/ his expression gets, the sharper his smile.
Chuuya's mouth feels dry, his lungs robbed of their air. His own desperation fades into the background, replaced by the +
Now though, the longer he stares at Chuuya, eyes darkening, the /hungrier/ his expression gets, the sharper his smile.
Chuuya's mouth feels dry, his lungs robbed of their air. His own desperation fades into the background, replaced by the +
knowledge that all prey experiences at some point in their life--
He's about to get /devoured/.
"Beautiful," Dazai rumbles, one of his hands finding Chuuya's inner thigh. He doesn't push, but his legs are spreading instinctively. A silent bid for him to touch him /there/, +
He's about to get /devoured/.
"Beautiful," Dazai rumbles, one of his hands finding Chuuya's inner thigh. He doesn't push, but his legs are spreading instinctively. A silent bid for him to touch him /there/, +
please.
He doesn't move to take off his own pants, which Chuuya honestly isn't that worried about, because the half-dressed wild look is doing /wonders/ for him. And before he can even regain his breath, Dazai is crawling back onto the bed, crawling over /him/ with low, rolling+
He doesn't move to take off his own pants, which Chuuya honestly isn't that worried about, because the half-dressed wild look is doing /wonders/ for him. And before he can even regain his breath, Dazai is crawling back onto the bed, crawling over /him/ with low, rolling+
movements.
"Come /here/, lovely," he murmurs,reaching out to grab him by the hips. With one strong pull, he has Chuuya's hips propped up on his thighs, knees hooked over his hips again.
They're pressed together again, and this time it's even /better/, because Chuuya is naked.+
"Come /here/, lovely," he murmurs,reaching out to grab him by the hips. With one strong pull, he has Chuuya's hips propped up on his thighs, knees hooked over his hips again.
They're pressed together again, and this time it's even /better/, because Chuuya is naked.+
The fabric of his slacks against the back of his thighs is slightly rough, adding a too-rough feeling to the sensations building inside him. The skin over his hips is soft and warm, giving whenever Chuuya squeezes him with his legs.
And at some point during his movement, his +
And at some point during his movement, his +
cock had been pulled out of his slacks, so when they come together--
Their erections rub together messily, and Chuuya is too far gone to be embarrassed about the choked noise he makes, because holy /shit/.
Beyond just being scorchingly hot and rock-hard against him, Dazai is+
Their erections rub together messily, and Chuuya is too far gone to be embarrassed about the choked noise he makes, because holy /shit/.
Beyond just being scorchingly hot and rock-hard against him, Dazai is+
/long/, definitely longer than he is, and /thick/. If Chuuya weren't out of his mind with desperation and lust, he'd probably be /intimidated/, but as it stands, the only thought in his head is /fuck yes/.
Even that thought is wiped away when Dazai leans down to kiss him, +
Even that thought is wiped away when Dazai leans down to kiss him, +
his tongue slipping into his mouth like it belongs there. Like Chuuya was born to be kissed by him, kissed like /this/.
In his distraction, his lubed hand has fallen still. The lube is warm now, at least as much as his body temperature has heated it up. If this is the 'warming'+
In his distraction, his lubed hand has fallen still. The lube is warm now, at least as much as his body temperature has heated it up. If this is the 'warming'+
feature, he doesn't see the big deal about it. It just feels normal-wet instead of cold-wet.
Sneaky fingers brush over his elbow, coasting up his forearm so gently that it makes him squirm, ticklish. Chuuya's lips twitch, fighting back a smile at the sensation.
It's an +
Sneaky fingers brush over his elbow, coasting up his forearm so gently that it makes him squirm, ticklish. Chuuya's lips twitch, fighting back a smile at the sensation.
It's an +
opportunity Dazai takes advantage of, sinking his teeth into Chuuya's bottom lip to keep him still. At the same time, his hand slides over Chuuya's, lube smearing between their palms.
Interlacing their fingers together lightly, Dazai pulls his hand away from the bed. He brings+
Interlacing their fingers together lightly, Dazai pulls his hand away from the bed. He brings+
their hands down, between them--
Chuuya /quickly/ realizes that all those other times he jerked off were /lame/. Stale, even. The pleasure from /then/ is nothing compared to the feeling of Dazai guiding their palms around them both.
It's hot and /wet/ and just the idea that+
Chuuya /quickly/ realizes that all those other times he jerked off were /lame/. Stale, even. The pleasure from /then/ is nothing compared to the feeling of Dazai guiding their palms around them both.
It's hot and /wet/ and just the idea that+
Dazai is /touching/ him is enough to have him shuddering and whining.
They're still kissing--well, Chuuya is more panting into Dazai's mouth-- so when Dazai tightens his hand around Chuuya's and gives them both one long, slow stroke, base to tip, Dazai swallows his moan easily.+
They're still kissing--well, Chuuya is more panting into Dazai's mouth-- so when Dazai tightens his hand around Chuuya's and gives them both one long, slow stroke, base to tip, Dazai swallows his moan easily.+
He grinds up, chasing the pleasure instinctively, and his cock slides against Dazai's and then up into the tight circle of their hands. The ridge of the head catches on Dazai's fingers on the way back down, making stars burst across his vision.
"I--," he gasps out, hand +
"I--," he gasps out, hand +
aching to move /faster/ but Dazai's fingers are firm around his, keeping them at a steady pace. "Fuck, Dazai."
Dazai releases a sharp breath into his mouth, breaking the kiss to scrape his teeth over his cheek. "I /like/ when you say my name like that," he rasps.
The next +
Dazai releases a sharp breath into his mouth, breaking the kiss to scrape his teeth over his cheek. "I /like/ when you say my name like that," he rasps.
The next +
stroke is /harder/, a little faster. Dazai moves his hips into it, cock sliding slick over Chuuya's.
Crying out softly, Chuuya tightens his legs to increase the pressure. Dazai is bigger than he is, so every time their hands move up, their fingers slip over the head of his +
Crying out softly, Chuuya tightens his legs to increase the pressure. Dazai is bigger than he is, so every time their hands move up, their fingers slip over the head of his +
cock.
Pleasure arches through him, radiating through him in hot, inescapable waves. He's already mindless, panting and whining incoherently--it's his first time being touched by anyone else /ever/, and god, Dazai is /so/ good, rubbing his thumb over the prominent vein on the+
Pleasure arches through him, radiating through him in hot, inescapable waves. He's already mindless, panting and whining incoherently--it's his first time being touched by anyone else /ever/, and god, Dazai is /so/ good, rubbing his thumb over the prominent vein on the+
side, taking the time to squeeze just under the head-- but then it gets /better/.
It was already hot with their body heat, but now the lube is /heating up/ with the friction, so slowly that Chuuya didn't even realize until it's searing hot, so good he can't control himself.+
It was already hot with their body heat, but now the lube is /heating up/ with the friction, so slowly that Chuuya didn't even realize until it's searing hot, so good he can't control himself.+
"Oh my /god/," he whimpers, digging his free hand into Dazai's shoulder. With the way his weight has settled on top of him, he can't move his hips /that/ much so he has to settle for quick, desperate jerks up. Every move of their hands spreads hot lube down his length, sparking +
rapture down his legs and up his spine.
"I /know/, sweetheart," Dazai whispers soothingly against his cheek.Despite his soft tone, his hand is /merciless/, speeding up slowly. He's thrusting too, lightly, and the sensation of /that/ makes Chuuya's imagination go wild.
If it's+
"I /know/, sweetheart," Dazai whispers soothingly against his cheek.Despite his soft tone, his hand is /merciless/, speeding up slowly. He's thrusting too, lightly, and the sensation of /that/ makes Chuuya's imagination go wild.
If it's+
this good already, what is it gonna be like when they go further? How /good/ is it gonna be if Dazai gives him a blowjob? Or fingers him?
Or /fucks/ him?
Anticipation mixes with desperation, creating a coil that tightens at the base of his spine. It tightens with every stroke+
Or /fucks/ him?
Anticipation mixes with desperation, creating a coil that tightens at the base of his spine. It tightens with every stroke+
of their hands, every time Dazai's hips meet his own.
"Faster," he whines, legs tightening as hard as they can. He just needs a little /more/, a little faster. The edge is drawing steadily nearer, and /god/, he wants nothing more than to fall off the cliff.
There's a muffled+
"Faster," he whines, legs tightening as hard as they can. He just needs a little /more/, a little faster. The edge is drawing steadily nearer, and /god/, he wants nothing more than to fall off the cliff.
There's a muffled+
growl against his cheek at the request. After a moment, Dazai leans up to get some space between them, just enough to watch Chuuya's expression tense with pleasure as his hand speeds up.
His vision is unfocused, but he can see the sweat dotting Dazai's temples and the way his +
His vision is unfocused, but he can see the sweat dotting Dazai's temples and the way his +
eyes are focused on him, so full of hungry that Chuuya aches with it.
The feeling of being /watched/ as Dazai drives him to the edge, his every reaction catalogued and used against him, just adds another layer of tension. He's beginning to break underneath it, muscles trembling+
The feeling of being /watched/ as Dazai drives him to the edge, his every reaction catalogued and used against him, just adds another layer of tension. He's beginning to break underneath it, muscles trembling+
as he fights for a little more pleasure, a little more sensation.
Dazai is throbbing against him,his cock twitching as he strokes them both.The air is searing hot, filled with electricity and the humidity of their breathing.
It's too much, not enough, /so/ close, almost there,+
Dazai is throbbing against him,his cock twitching as he strokes them both.The air is searing hot, filled with electricity and the humidity of their breathing.
It's too much, not enough, /so/ close, almost there,+
just a little more, /please/, he needs it--
"Come on, lovely."
The whisper breaks through his frantic thoughts, cutting a path through the pleasure. Chuuya cracks his eyes open, getting a glimpse of Dazai staring down at him.
He looks /starving/, eyes huge and focused. His +
"Come on, lovely."
The whisper breaks through his frantic thoughts, cutting a path through the pleasure. Chuuya cracks his eyes open, getting a glimpse of Dazai staring down at him.
He looks /starving/, eyes huge and focused. His +
forearm flexes with his movement of his arm, abs tight with tension.
Chuuya's gaze falls naturally down,and he /finally/ gets a glimpse of what they look like pressed together. Their cocks are shiny with lube, flushed red. Chuuya isn't small himself, but he certainly /looks/ it+
Chuuya's gaze falls naturally down,and he /finally/ gets a glimpse of what they look like pressed together. Their cocks are shiny with lube, flushed red. Chuuya isn't small himself, but he certainly /looks/ it+
when compared to Dazai.
/That's going to be inside me some day,/ Chuuya thinks dazedly.Want burns through him like a wildfire.
"I want to see you cum for me," Dazai says. No, /orders/, voice heavy with the expectation of being /obeyed/,like he knows Chuuya will do as he says.+
/That's going to be inside me some day,/ Chuuya thinks dazedly.Want burns through him like a wildfire.
"I want to see you cum for me," Dazai says. No, /orders/, voice heavy with the expectation of being /obeyed/,like he knows Chuuya will do as he says.+
And he's right too, because the next downward stroke is paired with a near-vicious squeeze around the head of his cock and--
Combined with the way Dazai is /staring/ at him, the way Chuuya's mind is going wild with the idea of Dazai /fucking/ him--
It's enough to trip him over+
Combined with the way Dazai is /staring/ at him, the way Chuuya's mind is going wild with the idea of Dazai /fucking/ him--
It's enough to trip him over+
the edge.
His world dissolves into white-noise, vision blurry with stars as he cries out. Ecstasy pulses through him in white-hot waves, centering from the base of his cock and radiating outward. His stomach clenches, and he's frozen with his back arched, too far gone to even+
His world dissolves into white-noise, vision blurry with stars as he cries out. Ecstasy pulses through him in white-hot waves, centering from the base of his cock and radiating outward. His stomach clenches, and he's frozen with his back arched, too far gone to even+
keep grinding.
Luckily, Dazai never /stops/, hand tight as he continues to stroke them both. Somehow it gets even messier and /hotter/, because some of his cum gets caught by Dazai's fingers and then is smeared on the downstroke.
His heart is racing so hard it feels hard to +
Luckily, Dazai never /stops/, hand tight as he continues to stroke them both. Somehow it gets even messier and /hotter/, because some of his cum gets caught by Dazai's fingers and then is smeared on the downstroke.
His heart is racing so hard it feels hard to +
breathe. His vision blurs even further, and now he feels /dizzy/, the awareness of the rest of his body fading away.
The only thing he can /feel/, the only thing he's aware of with burning, inescapable intensity, is the feeling of Dazai above him, over him, all around him, +
The only thing he can /feel/, the only thing he's aware of with burning, inescapable intensity, is the feeling of Dazai above him, over him, all around him, +
bending down to kiss him again.
This kiss is gentler, probably because Chuuya is shuddering too hard to really participate. His free hand comes up though, loosely knotting in Dazai’s hair.
“There you go,” Dazai purrs against him, “so beautiful, so /good/ for me. It feels /so/+
This kiss is gentler, probably because Chuuya is shuddering too hard to really participate. His free hand comes up though, loosely knotting in Dazai’s hair.
“There you go,” Dazai purrs against him, “so beautiful, so /good/ for me. It feels /so/+
good, doesn’t it?”
It /does/, god it does, way better than any rushed orgasm he’s ever given himself. Better than coming in his pants two weeks ago, and better than the phone sex last week.
Even now, Dazai’s hand has slowed but not stopped. The pleasure is beginning to mix +
It /does/, god it does, way better than any rushed orgasm he’s ever given himself. Better than coming in his pants two weeks ago, and better than the phone sex last week.
Even now, Dazai’s hand has slowed but not stopped. The pleasure is beginning to mix +
with the discomfort of over-sensitivity. Electricity crackles up his nerve endings, so good that it’s starting to hurt.
Dazai is still achingly hard though, grinding against his softening cock. He doesn’t want to /stop/ him, because just that feeling is good too but it /burns/+
Dazai is still achingly hard though, grinding against his softening cock. He doesn’t want to /stop/ him, because just that feeling is good too but it /burns/+
his nerves confused. It feels like he’s building up again, almost, except this time his body is twitching hard to escape the discomfort.
He whines against Dazai’s lips, hand clenching in his hair. “I— It’s too much, I can’t—.”
Can’t /what/, he’s not exactly sure, but Dazai +
He whines against Dazai’s lips, hand clenching in his hair. “I— It’s too much, I can’t—.”
Can’t /what/, he’s not exactly sure, but Dazai +
seems to know. His hand slows entirely, and he /carefully/ lets their fingers slide apart.
(Later, Chuuya will realize that the first time he held hands with Dazai is when they were jacking off together. Dazai never lets him live it down.)
Chuuya is still propped up on his+
(Later, Chuuya will realize that the first time he held hands with Dazai is when they were jacking off together. Dazai never lets him live it down.)
Chuuya is still propped up on his+
thighs, legs trembling around his hips. He's trying to catch his breath, but Dazai seems determined to steal it away with heavy, drugging kisses. He breaks away every few seconds to whisper something sweet against his lips. It's too low and muffled for Chuuya to make out the +
exact words, but the tone-- soothing, dripping with something sweet and proud-- is enough to have him settling back down.
One of Dazai's hands--the one messy with lube and cum-- has moved onto tracing soft circles on Chuuya's belly. It's kind of gross, if he really thinks about+
One of Dazai's hands--the one messy with lube and cum-- has moved onto tracing soft circles on Chuuya's belly. It's kind of gross, if he really thinks about+
it, but it's so mindlessly comforting that he decides just to relax into it.
And as he comes back fully into his body, mind finally working again, he realizes--
Dazai is still hard. Fully hard, throbbing against him lightly, and even though he's not /moving/, Chuuya can still+
And as he comes back fully into his body, mind finally working again, he realizes--
Dazai is still hard. Fully hard, throbbing against him lightly, and even though he's not /moving/, Chuuya can still+
feel the need radiating off him. He's determined to do something about it this time.
Thankful that the satisfaction pulsing through him doesn't allow him to feel nervous, he wiggles his hips a bit and says, "Your turn."
Dazai nips at the corner of his mouth, a smile in his +
Thankful that the satisfaction pulsing through him doesn't allow him to feel nervous, he wiggles his hips a bit and says, "Your turn."
Dazai nips at the corner of his mouth, a smile in his +
voice. "Yeah? How do you want to do this, sweetheart?"
Unsure of what to offer--god, he really should've watched more porn before this, so at least he wouldn't /look/ so inexperienced, Chuuya hesitates.
Dazai takes mercy on him after a second, continuing on like he never +
Unsure of what to offer--god, he really should've watched more porn before this, so at least he wouldn't /look/ so inexperienced, Chuuya hesitates.
Dazai takes mercy on him after a second, continuing on like he never +
asked Chuuya. "I could grind against you, just like this."
He pauses to illustrate, hips rocking forward. His cock slides against his own, sparking oversensitive shivers. It's /hot/ though, even so shortly after he orgasmed.
"You wouldn't even have to do anything. Just lay +
He pauses to illustrate, hips rocking forward. His cock slides against his own, sparking oversensitive shivers. It's /hot/ though, even so shortly after he orgasmed.
"You wouldn't even have to do anything. Just lay +
here and be pretty," he finishes, breath hot on his face. A rhythm is starting to build, driven by instinct and pleasure.
That feels like /cheating/. Dazai said he was going to go slower with him--and he /has/, to the point where Chuuya is almost getting frustrated with it-- +
That feels like /cheating/. Dazai said he was going to go slower with him--and he /has/, to the point where Chuuya is almost getting frustrated with it-- +
so if he doesn't take this chance to push the limits of what Dazai /has/ done with him, who /knows/ when he'll get another chance?
(His /mind/ might be a little hesitant, but his body is /very/ clear about what it wants. He's not scared, not anxious about it being bad or +
(His /mind/ might be a little hesitant, but his body is /very/ clear about what it wants. He's not scared, not anxious about it being bad or +
/wrong/, he just wants it.)
"Or," Dazai pauses to reach out for Chuuya's lubed hand. It's fallen limp to the bed near his side, but he guides it back between their bodies.
This time, when Chuuya's hand wraps around his cock, he does it alone. Dazai's fingers are loose around +
"Or," Dazai pauses to reach out for Chuuya's lubed hand. It's fallen limp to the bed near his side, but he guides it back between their bodies.
This time, when Chuuya's hand wraps around his cock, he does it alone. Dazai's fingers are loose around +
his wrist, helping him to start up a rhythm but not /pressuring/ him.
Without the distraction of his own arousal, he can finally focus on what Dazai feels like in his hands. Searing hot, the veins along the underside pulsing lightly against his thumb. When he tightens his grip+
Without the distraction of his own arousal, he can finally focus on what Dazai feels like in his hands. Searing hot, the veins along the underside pulsing lightly against his thumb. When he tightens his grip+
experimentally, the hitch in Dazai's breath is audible.
"You could jerk me off," he offers breathlessly, twitching in his hand. His other hand--the clean one, thankfully-- makes a firm sweep from his thigh over his hip and up to the muscles over his ribs.
He /does/ like that+
"You could jerk me off," he offers breathlessly, twitching in his hand. His other hand--the clean one, thankfully-- makes a firm sweep from his thigh over his hip and up to the muscles over his ribs.
He /does/ like that+
idea. Likes the feel of Dazai in his hand, too thick to wrap his fingers around entirely. Likes the way he jerks lightly against him when Chuuya's palm slides over the head, when he uses his thumb to smear the drop of pre-cum over the tip.
It's intuitive, not that different +
It's intuitive, not that different +
from jerking /himself/ off. A little more satisfying somehow, even though he's not getting any direct pleasure out of this.
Instead he gets to pull reactions from /another/ person, relishing in every twitch and tremble and soft groan he gets.
It feels /powerful/. Boosts his+
Instead he gets to pull reactions from /another/ person, relishing in every twitch and tremble and soft groan he gets.
It feels /powerful/. Boosts his+
confidence. Makes him feel /sexy/ and wanted and /good/.
"Or," Dazai says /again/, and Chuuya is hanging onto his every word, because what could he offer /next/? What's next in the natural progression of sex?
"If you're feeling particularly brave-- you could try blowing me?"+
"Or," Dazai says /again/, and Chuuya is hanging onto his every word, because what could he offer /next/? What's next in the natural progression of sex?
"If you're feeling particularly brave-- you could try blowing me?"+
That makes Chuuya pause, uncertain. It's one thing to jerk him off--which is something he has experience in, even if it was just on himself--and another to dive into a whole new aspect with little warning.
He just doesn't want it to be /bad/ for Dazai. He's heard horror stories+
He just doesn't want it to be /bad/ for Dazai. He's heard horror stories+
of people that /ruined/ a blowjob. Not to mention that he'd have his teeth /right/ next to his dick, something that makes him wary if it were to happen to him.
But at the same time--
He can't deny that he /wants/ to try. Dazai is heavy and firm in his palm, so he can't help+
But at the same time--
He can't deny that he /wants/ to try. Dazai is heavy and firm in his palm, so he can't help+
but wonder what that'd feel like in his mouth. On his tongue, in his /throat/.
"I've never done that before," he feels compelled to point out. The strokes of his hands have slowed to absentminded pulls.
Leaning forward, Dazai nuzzles his nose against his cheek. "I know," he +
"I've never done that before," he feels compelled to point out. The strokes of his hands have slowed to absentminded pulls.
Leaning forward, Dazai nuzzles his nose against his cheek. "I know," he +
mumbles, brushing the lightest of kisses over his jaw, "I can teach you, but only if you want. I like this just as much."
Considering that he's still twitching and leaking pre-cum even though Chuuya hasn't put /that/ much effort into his strokes -- he believes that.
And the+
Considering that he's still twitching and leaking pre-cum even though Chuuya hasn't put /that/ much effort into his strokes -- he believes that.
And the+
/lack/ of pressure somehow makes the choice easier to make. He /could/ refuse without consequences--
But when has he ever backed out of a dare before?
He takes a deep breath, steeling his nerves. "Okay. I want to try."
Dazai rewards his bravery with another kiss, this one +
But when has he ever backed out of a dare before?
He takes a deep breath, steeling his nerves. "Okay. I want to try."
Dazai rewards his bravery with another kiss, this one +
over his mouth, tongue piercing sliding teasingly over his lip. It's deep and demanding enough that Chuuya momentarily loses his thoughts and melts into it eagerly.
When he's taken Chuuya's breath away, Dazai leans back again, looking smug. Chuuya chases after him +
When he's taken Chuuya's breath away, Dazai leans back again, looking smug. Chuuya chases after him +
automatically, eyes closed.
When he hears Dazai's fond huff of laughter, he cracks open his eyes to glare at him. It doesn't last long, not with how /affectionate/ he looks, his thumb stroking over Chuuya's ribs.
"How do I..."Chuuya asks, frowning. It's not like they're in the+
When he hears Dazai's fond huff of laughter, he cracks open his eyes to glare at him. It doesn't last long, not with how /affectionate/ he looks, his thumb stroking over Chuuya's ribs.
"How do I..."Chuuya asks, frowning. It's not like they're in the+
position for him to get his mouth on his dick. Maybe Dazai could just crawl upwards, but Chuuya doesn't particularly like the idea of being pinned to the bed with no escape for his first attempt at a blowjob.
Sitting up straight, Dazai takes his legs in hand and unwraps them +
Sitting up straight, Dazai takes his legs in hand and unwraps them +
from around his waist. "It's easier if I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. You'll have to kneel on the floor."
That doesn't sound /too/ bad, but he hopes it doesn't last terribly long, because the floors in here are hardwood and will be hell on his knees.
He slides down, the+
That doesn't sound /too/ bad, but he hopes it doesn't last terribly long, because the floors in here are hardwood and will be hell on his knees.
He slides down, the+
cool air of the bedroom hitting him a little hard. The lube is drying now, sticky, but without the furnace of Dazai hovering above him, it's suddenly a lot colder than it was.
He arranges himself comfortably on his knees,tucking his feet under his butt.
Dazai sits up entirely+
He arranges himself comfortably on his knees,tucking his feet under his butt.
Dazai sits up entirely+
his legs coming down on either side of Chuuya. Between his thighs, it's a little warmer--
And more /intimidating/, because Chuuya is now face-to-face with the biggest dick he's ever seen.
Not that he's /seen/ a lot, but he looks even bigger than he /felt/. It's shiny-wet with+
And more /intimidating/, because Chuuya is now face-to-face with the biggest dick he's ever seen.
Not that he's /seen/ a lot, but he looks even bigger than he /felt/. It's shiny-wet with+
lube, the tip flushed red. The hair around the base is neatly trimmed, something that Chuuya appreciates more than he thought he would.
"Hands on my thighs," Dazai instructs, reaching out to run his clean hand through Chuuya's hair. He meticulously brushes his bangs out of the+
"Hands on my thighs," Dazai instructs, reaching out to run his clean hand through Chuuya's hair. He meticulously brushes his bangs out of the+
way and holds them there.
Shuffling a little bit closer, Chuuya places his hands on his thighs. He doesn't seem to mind the fact that one of his legs is getting smeared with lube and cum.
Payback, for the mess on Chuuya's stomach.
"We won't do anything crazy, but if you +
Shuffling a little bit closer, Chuuya places his hands on his thighs. He doesn't seem to mind the fact that one of his legs is getting smeared with lube and cum.
Payback, for the mess on Chuuya's stomach.
"We won't do anything crazy, but if you +
ever want to stop or pause for any reason, any reason at /all/, tap twice on my thigh. Got it?"
Assumingly, Chuuya could just /say/ something if he felt uncomfortable, but the idea of having a back up signal in case he can't get the words out fast enough makes him feel warm and+
Assumingly, Chuuya could just /say/ something if he felt uncomfortable, but the idea of having a back up signal in case he can't get the words out fast enough makes him feel warm and+
secure. Like he's being taken /care/ of.
Nodding, he demonstrates his understanding by tapping twice with his left hand. Dazai smiles at him.
"Good," he murmurs, voice slipping into something darker and more intoxicating. "I want you to keep one hand there, and I want you to +
Nodding, he demonstrates his understanding by tapping twice with his left hand. Dazai smiles at him.
"Good," he murmurs, voice slipping into something darker and more intoxicating. "I want you to keep one hand there, and I want you to +
use the other to grab the base."
This is familiar ground still,so he doesn't hesitate before lifting his other hand and wrapping it around Dazai's erection. He tilts it toward his face, for easier access.
Dazai's thumb rubs soothingly across his hairline, a counterpoint to the+
This is familiar ground still,so he doesn't hesitate before lifting his other hand and wrapping it around Dazai's erection. He tilts it toward his face, for easier access.
Dazai's thumb rubs soothingly across his hairline, a counterpoint to the+
how tense his thigh is beneath his hand. He's not applying /pressure/ per se, but there's a sense of being guided, if he listens to the silent signals being given to him.
"When you're ready, I want you to kiss it."
Not looking up at his face--because the idea of /that/ seems+
"When you're ready, I want you to kiss it."
Not looking up at his face--because the idea of /that/ seems+
embarrassing right now-- Chuuya slowly leans forward and hesitantly brushes his lips over the tip.
Because of how much lube they used,there's not even a hint of friction. His mouth slides over it easily, and comes away wet.
"Yeah," Dazai sighs, "just like that, doll."
He does+
Because of how much lube they used,there's not even a hint of friction. His mouth slides over it easily, and comes away wet.
"Yeah," Dazai sighs, "just like that, doll."
He does+
it again, opening his mouth a little so he can really feel the shape of him. As expected, he's /hot/ but beyond that, there's the silicon taste of lube. It's not /pleasant/, per se, but it's not awful enough to stop.
The warming agent leaves his lips tingly.
Growing a little+
The warming agent leaves his lips tingly.
Growing a little+
more bold, spurred on by the little sighs and pleased exhales Dazai is making, Chuuya gives him a tentative lick.
It's more of a taste-test than anything, quick and fleeting. The lube coats his tongue with a thick layer of rubbery taste, but the reward is that Dazai's thighs+
It's more of a taste-test than anything, quick and fleeting. The lube coats his tongue with a thick layer of rubbery taste, but the reward is that Dazai's thighs+
twitch and tense noticeably.
"You learn so /quick/, baby," Dazai praises him, voice rumbly with bitten-off groans, "Do that again."
He does, and again and again, until he's treating the head to a series of long, broad strokes of his tongue. He tries mixing it up a little, +
"You learn so /quick/, baby," Dazai praises him, voice rumbly with bitten-off groans, "Do that again."
He does, and again and again, until he's treating the head to a series of long, broad strokes of his tongue. He tries mixing it up a little, +
flexing his tongue on one stroke and then letting it relax on the next, adding a little flick at the end with the very tip of his tongue.
Eventually, the rubber taste fades away and the only thing he can taste is /Dazai/. All he can hear is the harsh breaths above him, the+
Eventually, the rubber taste fades away and the only thing he can taste is /Dazai/. All he can hear is the harsh breaths above him, the+
feeling of his hand tightening in his hair.
"Down the sides now."
It's easy to follow Dazai's directions, kissing and licking a sloppy trail down the side. When he feels a vein pulsing under his lips, he closes his mouth around it and gives a light, experimental /suck/. +
"Down the sides now."
It's easy to follow Dazai's directions, kissing and licking a sloppy trail down the side. When he feels a vein pulsing under his lips, he closes his mouth around it and gives a light, experimental /suck/. +
Dazai /groans/ at that, hissing out a soft curse.
The sound sends a shockbolt of excitement through Chuuya, and suddenly it's his only goal in life to pull that sound from Dazai, again and again, /forever/.
He has to shift hands so he can kiss back up the other side, taking +
The sound sends a shockbolt of excitement through Chuuya, and suddenly it's his only goal in life to pull that sound from Dazai, again and again, /forever/.
He has to shift hands so he can kiss back up the other side, taking +
the time to seal his mouth over a different vein and /sucking/, tracing the delicate shape of it with his tongue.
"Fuck, you're so /good/," Dazai groans out, and he /might/ be lying just to boost his confidence, but Chuuya doesn't /care/ if he is. His praise makes his chest+
"Fuck, you're so /good/," Dazai groans out, and he /might/ be lying just to boost his confidence, but Chuuya doesn't /care/ if he is. His praise makes his chest+
feel warm and oddly light, like his existence is being buoyed by the words.
"Now open your mouth for me, as wide as you can. Cover your teeth with your lips."
It's strange to open his mouth /that/ wide while simultaneously rolling his lips inward to cover his teeth, but he+
"Now open your mouth for me, as wide as you can. Cover your teeth with your lips."
It's strange to open his mouth /that/ wide while simultaneously rolling his lips inward to cover his teeth, but he+
manages it after a second.
Dazai's other hand joins his at the base, fingers overlapping to hold him steady. At the same time, he's tugging Chuuya /gently/ forward by his hair, lining him up.
"Take it," Dazai mutters, almost to himself, as Chuuya's mouth descends on him.
By +
Dazai's other hand joins his at the base, fingers overlapping to hold him steady. At the same time, he's tugging Chuuya /gently/ forward by his hair, lining him up.
"Take it," Dazai mutters, almost to himself, as Chuuya's mouth descends on him.
By +
now, he's gotten used to the /taste/--
But not the feel of Dazai pushing inside his mouth, hot and hard and heavy on his tongue. He fills his mouth up entirely, making his jaw strain. His tongue is pressed to the bottom of his mouth, with not enough room to do more than +
But not the feel of Dazai pushing inside his mouth, hot and hard and heavy on his tongue. He fills his mouth up entirely, making his jaw strain. His tongue is pressed to the bottom of his mouth, with not enough room to do more than +
wiggle and flex uselessly.
Dazai likes that a /lot/, groaning again. "Suck it, baby," he pants. It's clear he's still trying to restrain himself, hanging grimly onto the last remains of his self control.
Closing his lips carefully around him, Chuuya /does/. His cheeks +
Dazai likes that a /lot/, groaning again. "Suck it, baby," he pants. It's clear he's still trying to restrain himself, hanging grimly onto the last remains of his self control.
Closing his lips carefully around him, Chuuya /does/. His cheeks +
hollow out with suction, tongue curling around the underside.
The hand in his hair pulls him back gently, guiding his head into a slow, shallow bob. The suction increases as Dazai’s cock slowly slides out of his mouth. When he slides back in, Chuuya has to hollow out his +
The hand in his hair pulls him back gently, guiding his head into a slow, shallow bob. The suction increases as Dazai’s cock slowly slides out of his mouth. When he slides back in, Chuuya has to hollow out his +
cheeks again.
The rhythm they build is a slow, steady one that allows Chuuya to explore what gets the best reactions from Dazai.
Flattening his tongue. Tensing it, rubbing upwards in short strokes. Pushing the head of his cock upwards until it slides against the roof of his+
The rhythm they build is a slow, steady one that allows Chuuya to explore what gets the best reactions from Dazai.
Flattening his tongue. Tensing it, rubbing upwards in short strokes. Pushing the head of his cock upwards until it slides against the roof of his+
mouth.
And then Chuuya thinks—
He’s only got the head of his cock and a little extra in his mouth. That doesn’t seem very mind-blowing, even if Dazai is groaning and growling above him.
He can take more, can’t he? His gag reflex has never been particularly sensitive, so+
And then Chuuya thinks—
He’s only got the head of his cock and a little extra in his mouth. That doesn’t seem very mind-blowing, even if Dazai is groaning and growling above him.
He can take more, can’t he? His gag reflex has never been particularly sensitive, so+
he can at least /try/, right? Just a little more.
He takes a deeper breath through his nose, letting his jaw drop even further as he angles his head, pressing down on Dazai’s cock.
Deeper, deeper—
The hand in his hair isn’t stopping /or/ pushing him, and the sound from +
He takes a deeper breath through his nose, letting his jaw drop even further as he angles his head, pressing down on Dazai’s cock.
Deeper, deeper—
The hand in his hair isn’t stopping /or/ pushing him, and the sound from +
above has stopped entirely, replaced with tense anticipation.
He slides a little further down, and he’s thinking he’s /really/ going to do it, he’s really going to deepthroat Dazai, it’s easier than he thought it would be—
Which is the precise moment when he /chokes/. +
He slides a little further down, and he’s thinking he’s /really/ going to do it, he’s really going to deepthroat Dazai, it’s easier than he thought it would be—
Which is the precise moment when he /chokes/. +
His throat spasms /hard/, protesting the intrusion so strongly that Chuuya has to pull off entirely. He coughs for an embarrassingly long time, fighting to get his breath back.
“Baby,” he hears, a gentle fingertip wiping away the tears he hadn’t realized had welled up in his+
“Baby,” he hears, a gentle fingertip wiping away the tears he hadn’t realized had welled up in his+
eyes and spilled over. “Take it easy. I can teach you how it’s swallow me down later, if that’s what you want. You’re already doing /so/ good for me. Feels /so/ good when you have your mouth on me.”
His vision is blurry with tears when he blinks his eyes open again. It’s too+
His vision is blurry with tears when he blinks his eyes open again. It’s too+
dark to see most of Dazai’s face from this angle, but the way his fingers are brushing through his air comfortingly is enough.
Taking a deep breath, he nods and dives back in. This time, he’s careful to keep himself from going too far down, sticking to the first few inches.+
Taking a deep breath, he nods and dives back in. This time, he’s careful to keep himself from going too far down, sticking to the first few inches.+
(Dazai, meanwhile, is losing his fucking /mind/.
It’s not the best blowjob he’s ever received, but what Chuuya lacks in experience—
He makes up for with sheer enthusiasm and attention to detail.
If Dazai so much as /twitches/ when he does something that feels good, he +
It’s not the best blowjob he’s ever received, but what Chuuya lacks in experience—
He makes up for with sheer enthusiasm and attention to detail.
If Dazai so much as /twitches/ when he does something that feels good, he +
does it /over and over/ again, until Dazai feels like his mind is /melting/.
Then he’ll move onto the next thing, trying out something different with his tongue or his lips until he finds something else that makes Dazai groan.
And /god/, the noises he makes. The wet sounds+
Then he’ll move onto the next thing, trying out something different with his tongue or his lips until he finds something else that makes Dazai groan.
And /god/, the noises he makes. The wet sounds+
of a blowjob, obviously, but /beneath/ that—
Little punched out gasps, curious hums, the occasional slurp and choke of him readjusting his technique.
He’s trying /so/ hard to make this easy for Chuuya, jaw clenched so tight that his teeth ache. His abs are tense, fighting +
Little punched out gasps, curious hums, the occasional slurp and choke of him readjusting his technique.
He’s trying /so/ hard to make this easy for Chuuya, jaw clenched so tight that his teeth ache. His abs are tense, fighting +
off the mounting need to /thrust/.
He /knows/ how important it is for Chuuya to build confidence and have a good experience for his first time—
But he can /not/ wait for the day he can grab him by the head and fuck that pretty little mouth. It’s all he can think about, even+
He /knows/ how important it is for Chuuya to build confidence and have a good experience for his first time—
But he can /not/ wait for the day he can grab him by the head and fuck that pretty little mouth. It’s all he can think about, even+
though he /shouldn’t/ be, because his self-restraint is growing dangerously thin as the pleasure begins to mount.
As it is, he can’t help but lightly guide Chuuya’s head with his hand. His original intention was to be a /gentleman/ and hold his hair back but—
Now he’s gently+
As it is, he can’t help but lightly guide Chuuya’s head with his hand. His original intention was to be a /gentleman/ and hold his hair back but—
Now he’s gently+
guiding his head in a steadily increasing pace, set ablaze by the way Chuuya gives into the lightest pressure. He even lets him push a little further /down/, even though he already figured out what happens when he lets Dazai’s cock get too deep.
Which was adorable, by the way.+
Which was adorable, by the way.+
He feels a /little/ bad about finding it cute, but he was so /eager/, and the way his eyes looked filled with tears and frustration—
Cute.
It will be even cuter when Dazai trains the gag reflex out of him, and when he sees the shape of his cock buried in his throat but still.+
Cute.
It will be even cuter when Dazai trains the gag reflex out of him, and when he sees the shape of his cock buried in his throat but still.+
For now, he has a dilemma. His orgasm is fast approaching, after waiting for /weeks/, and then all day knowing what he had planned for tonight and then watching Chuuya come apart beneath him so beautifully.
He /could/ come in his mouth. It’s very tempting.
Or he could—.). +
He /could/ come in his mouth. It’s very tempting.
Or he could—.). +
“Off.”
The words are accompanied by a tug on his hair, but Chuuya resists the pull. He’s having fun and Dazai isn’t done yet so he’s not—
“/Let. Go/.”
For the first time /ever/, Dazai gets a little rough with him. His hands tighten almost-painfully in his hair and /drag/ +
The words are accompanied by a tug on his hair, but Chuuya resists the pull. He’s having fun and Dazai isn’t done yet so he’s not—
“/Let. Go/.”
For the first time /ever/, Dazai gets a little rough with him. His hands tighten almost-painfully in his hair and /drag/ +
him off.
More than anything, it’s the surprise that makes his mouth fall open. Dazai’s cock slides out of his mouth, heavy taste on his tongue.
He’s not allowed to go far though, head forcibly tilted up only a few inches away from Dazai’s groin.
Cracking his eyes open to+
More than anything, it’s the surprise that makes his mouth fall open. Dazai’s cock slides out of his mouth, heavy taste on his tongue.
He’s not allowed to go far though, head forcibly tilted up only a few inches away from Dazai’s groin.
Cracking his eyes open to+
glare at him balefully--because /neither/ of them were done, and it's not nice to pull his hair, even if he did like it-- Chuuya finally catches a glimpse of Dazai's face.
He's hunched over a bit now, the dim red lighting revealing how tense his expression has become. His +
He's hunched over a bit now, the dim red lighting revealing how tense his expression has become. His +
eyebrows are furrowed together, mouth twisted into a pleasured snarl. His breathing is harsh, broken up by guttural groans as his hand moves quickly over his cock.
"Close your eyes," he manages to grunt out.
Chuuya has an /idea/ of what is about to happen, so he lets his eyes+
"Close your eyes," he manages to grunt out.
Chuuya has an /idea/ of what is about to happen, so he lets his eyes+
fall mostly shut. Mostly, because he still hasn't /seen/ what Dazai looks like mid-orgasm and the hunger to see it is like an empty pit in his stomach.
With a few more strokes, Dazai lets out a growled, mangled "/Chuuya/". The way Chuuya's stomach jumps matches the way Dazai's+
With a few more strokes, Dazai lets out a growled, mangled "/Chuuya/". The way Chuuya's stomach jumps matches the way Dazai's+
cock twitches hard.
He saw it coming but the first spurt of cum that lands on his cheek makes him flinch a little in surprise. Because of that, the /next/ one stripes across his lips.
It's hot, wet, a little bitter when he flicks his tongue out to taste. Dazai's eyes drop to+
He saw it coming but the first spurt of cum that lands on his cheek makes him flinch a little in surprise. Because of that, the /next/ one stripes across his lips.
It's hot, wet, a little bitter when he flicks his tongue out to taste. Dazai's eyes drop to+
the motion, zeroing in with laser intensity.
His hand slows to a steady pull on his cock, milking out a final wave of cum that lands somewhere between Chuuya's other cheek and his mouth. It drips down his face slowly, smearing thickly over his skin.
Without looking away, eyes+
His hand slows to a steady pull on his cock, milking out a final wave of cum that lands somewhere between Chuuya's other cheek and his mouth. It drips down his face slowly, smearing thickly over his skin.
Without looking away, eyes+
burning, Dazai lets go of his hair. With his thumb, he smears one of the stripes over his cheek.
Then he's lowering his hand, pushing his thumb into his mouth. Chuuya's mouth is falling open easily under the pressure, allowing him to rub the pad of his finger over his tongue, +
Then he's lowering his hand, pushing his thumb into his mouth. Chuuya's mouth is falling open easily under the pressure, allowing him to rub the pad of his finger over his tongue, +
forcing him to taste.
Teasingly, Chuuya sucks on his finger, rolling his tongue over it like he did when he had his dick in his mouth. Somehow, it feels even dirtier than before, because now he's got cum all over his face and is sucking it off his finger.
The taste coats his +
Teasingly, Chuuya sucks on his finger, rolling his tongue over it like he did when he had his dick in his mouth. Somehow, it feels even dirtier than before, because now he's got cum all over his face and is sucking it off his finger.
The taste coats his +
tongue entirely, bitter and a tad salty. It's not his /favorite/ flavor, but it's worth it to watch the way Dazai's pupils blow and his expression darkens with hunger.
It's amazing,the way he still seems /starving/ for him, even though he literally /just/ finished on his face.+
It's amazing,the way he still seems /starving/ for him, even though he literally /just/ finished on his face.+
He doesn’t know if he should curse his refractory period or /thank/ it, because if Dazai keeps looking at him like /this/, he’s going to get hard again. Maybe his eagerness should be embarrassing, but he feels /starving/ whenever he’s around Dazai, filled with the endless need+
for /more/. He doesn’t know if that’s just because he’s young and inexperienced, or something unique to Dazai—
All he knows is that heat is starting to pool in his stomach again.
Faster than Chuuya can comprehend, Dazai is reaching down and hooking his hands underneath his +
All he knows is that heat is starting to pool in his stomach again.
Faster than Chuuya can comprehend, Dazai is reaching down and hooking his hands underneath his +
arms. He pulls him /up/, dragging him into his lap.
Chuuya is basically dead weight because his feet have fallen asleep while he was kneeling. Dazai doesn’t even seem to notice.
He barely gets to take a startled inhale before Dazai is /devouring/ him with a kiss, tongue +
Chuuya is basically dead weight because his feet have fallen asleep while he was kneeling. Dazai doesn’t even seem to notice.
He barely gets to take a startled inhale before Dazai is /devouring/ him with a kiss, tongue +
collecting the remains of the cum on his lips and pushing it into his mouth.
It’s the easiest thing in the world to melt into him, wrapping his arms around his neck and letting himself be kissed however Dazai wants. With the way he’s sitting, haphazardly kneeling over Dazai’s +
It’s the easiest thing in the world to melt into him, wrapping his arms around his neck and letting himself be kissed however Dazai wants. With the way he’s sitting, haphazardly kneeling over Dazai’s +
lap with his feet hanging off the bed, the only thing keeping him from falling backwards is Dazai’s arm wrapped around his waist.
Holding him over the metaphorical cliff, but never letting him fall.
Eventually, Chuuya shivers. He’s still naked, and the drying wet spots on his+
Holding him over the metaphorical cliff, but never letting him fall.
Eventually, Chuuya shivers. He’s still naked, and the drying wet spots on his+
skin are making him cold. Dazai is a furnace beneath him, but it’s not enough to stop him from shivering lightly.
“You okay?” Dazai asks quietly, slowing the kiss to something almost non-existent. So soft it almost tickles.
“Yeah,” Chuuya responds. Croaks, really, because+
“You okay?” Dazai asks quietly, slowing the kiss to something almost non-existent. So soft it almost tickles.
“Yeah,” Chuuya responds. Croaks, really, because+
his throat is a little more sore than he anticipated. “Just a little cold. And sticky.”
Honestly, Chuuya is a /mess/ right now and it was hot while it was happening, but now it’s starting to get gross.
Leaning back, Dazai wedges his fingers underneath his thighs. “Let’s get +
Honestly, Chuuya is a /mess/ right now and it was hot while it was happening, but now it’s starting to get gross.
Leaning back, Dazai wedges his fingers underneath his thighs. “Let’s get +
you cleaned up.”
He’s starting to think that Dazai /likes/ carrying him, because he’s once again picked up and taken to the bathroom. He doesn’t feel bad about hugging himself close to his chest, because it’s /his/ fault he’s messy, and it’s even colder in here.
The marble is+
He’s starting to think that Dazai /likes/ carrying him, because he’s once again picked up and taken to the bathroom. He doesn’t feel bad about hugging himself close to his chest, because it’s /his/ fault he’s messy, and it’s even colder in here.
The marble is+
cold under his ass when he’s set down, making him flinch and grumble in displeasure.Dazai smiles fondly and turns the hot water in the sink on.
He bends down to pull a washcloth out of a drawer. The brighter lighting in the bathroom enables Chuuya to see a smear of pearlescent+
He bends down to pull a washcloth out of a drawer. The brighter lighting in the bathroom enables Chuuya to see a smear of pearlescent+
shine on his cheek. His own cum, probably from where he kissed Chuuya too eagerly.
The sight of it makes Chuuya squirm, suddenly realizing how /dirty/ that is. God, he’s practically got a face mask of cum on his skin right now.
When he thought about sex, he never really +
The sight of it makes Chuuya squirm, suddenly realizing how /dirty/ that is. God, he’s practically got a face mask of cum on his skin right now.
When he thought about sex, he never really +
thought about the clean-up. Most of his /own/ experiences were quick and easy—down the drain or wiped with a quick tissue— but he never considered what to do with someone /else’s/ cum.
He’s glad he can’t see himself in the mirror, because he’s sure he’d die of embrasement. His+
He’s glad he can’t see himself in the mirror, because he’s sure he’d die of embrasement. His+
face feels like it’s on /fire/.
Wetting the cloth under the hot water, Dazai encourages him to tip his face up with a finger under his chin. With careful movements, he begins to gently wipe away the drying mess.
“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks, running over a thick +
Wetting the cloth under the hot water, Dazai encourages him to tip his face up with a finger under his chin. With careful movements, he begins to gently wipe away the drying mess.
“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks, running over a thick +
strip near his mouth.
A shower /does/ sound nice. It will warm him up completely and he’ll be able to scrub off all the sticky stuff more thoroughly than he could with a towel.
But he doesn’t want to get in /alone/. Dazai’s dirty too, and Chuuya might have gotten an eyeful+
A shower /does/ sound nice. It will warm him up completely and he’ll be able to scrub off all the sticky stuff more thoroughly than he could with a towel.
But he doesn’t want to get in /alone/. Dazai’s dirty too, and Chuuya might have gotten an eyeful+
of his /chest/, but he’s still wearing his slacks, even now. They’re unbuttoned and unzipped, hanging loose on his hips, but they’ve managed to stay on.
“Come in with me?” Chuuya offers, giving him his best puppy dog eyes.
The half-smile Dazai is wearing tips into something +
“Come in with me?” Chuuya offers, giving him his best puppy dog eyes.
The half-smile Dazai is wearing tips into something +
more somber, almost /sad/.
Did he say something wrong? He didn’t want to make him /sad/, he just—
“Can’t, chibi,” Dazai says. When Chuuya’s expression grows confused, he lifts up his other arm, presenting his bandaged forearm.
Oh. Well, he /did/ say that they stayed on—and +
Did he say something wrong? He didn’t want to make him /sad/, he just—
“Can’t, chibi,” Dazai says. When Chuuya’s expression grows confused, he lifts up his other arm, presenting his bandaged forearm.
Oh. Well, he /did/ say that they stayed on—and +
they /have/, even though they’re a little messed up and dirty now— and he respects that Dazai obviously doesn’t want to take them off—
He just doesn’t understand /why/.
“I’ve seen your arms before, though,” He points out cautiously.
Dazai moves onto his other cheek, using+
He just doesn’t understand /why/.
“I’ve seen your arms before, though,” He points out cautiously.
Dazai moves onto his other cheek, using+
a clean section of the towel. “I was wearing cover-up, then. I’m not now.”
So, whatever he doesn’t want Chuuya to see, it can be /covered/. That narrows his ideas down considerably.
But he doesn’t want Dazai to feel like he has to /hide/. He wants to know what’s underneath +
So, whatever he doesn’t want Chuuya to see, it can be /covered/. That narrows his ideas down considerably.
But he doesn’t want Dazai to feel like he has to /hide/. He wants to know what’s underneath +
the bandages— not necessarily to satisfy his own curiosity, but because he wants to know /everything/ about this man.
“I dont...” he almost says he doesn’t /care/, but then he realizes that might not be the message he wants to give, “it won’t bother me to see it.”
Dazai takes+
“I dont...” he almost says he doesn’t /care/, but then he realizes that might not be the message he wants to give, “it won’t bother me to see it.”
Dazai takes+
his time to clean his lips, his expression distant as he carefully wipes the corner of his mouth.
Looking at him, Chuuya can’t help but feel like he did something /wrong/. Like he overstepped, crossed some invisible boundary he didn’t realize was there.
He wants to go back +
Looking at him, Chuuya can’t help but feel like he did something /wrong/. Like he overstepped, crossed some invisible boundary he didn’t realize was there.
He wants to go back +
and tell himself to shut up before he even made the offer.
“You’re very sweet,” Dazai eventually responds, “but it’s easy to say that when you haven’t seen it.”
That’s true, but it aches, a little bit. They haven’t known eachother long enough to trust eachother with everything+
“You’re very sweet,” Dazai eventually responds, “but it’s easy to say that when you haven’t seen it.”
That’s true, but it aches, a little bit. They haven’t known eachother long enough to trust eachother with everything+
but it still hurts a little to know that Dazai thinks he might be rejected.
“Okay,” he gives in, not missing the way Dazai’s shoulders lose a fraction of tension.
His face is clean now, and Dazai is starting in on his jaw and neck, drawing the towel down his skin in long, +
“Okay,” he gives in, not missing the way Dazai’s shoulders lose a fraction of tension.
His face is clean now, and Dazai is starting in on his jaw and neck, drawing the towel down his skin in long, +
thorough strokes. It’s almost like taking a sponge bath.
“Can I ask?” He blurts out, when the silence goes on too long. Dazai doesn’t react, so he continues, “what’s underneath them? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, though.”
There’s another long moment of tense+
“Can I ask?” He blurts out, when the silence goes on too long. Dazai doesn’t react, so he continues, “what’s underneath them? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, though.”
There’s another long moment of tense+
silence as Dazai reaches over to rinse the towel out. He squeezes the excess water out again, lowering the cloth to his belly this time.
“Bad memories,” he eventually offers, voice quiet but steady.
That... that makes Chuuya pause.
Ever since he’s known Dazai, he’s only seen+
“Bad memories,” he eventually offers, voice quiet but steady.
That... that makes Chuuya pause.
Ever since he’s known Dazai, he’s only seen+
the put-together, teasing side of him. He’s only seen him angry /once/, and even that was brief. He seemed so /calm/ and steady, like the rock that the storm breaks on.
It’s sobering to realize that beneath that, something so terrible happened that Dazai hides his body, even+
It’s sobering to realize that beneath that, something so terrible happened that Dazai hides his body, even+
from himself. Something he won’t— or /can’t/— speak of.
Something that obviously affects him deeply, even though he’s probably one of the steadiest people Chuuya has ever met.
Just how deep do the cracks go beneath the surface?
Taking a slow breath, Chuuya catches the +
Something that obviously affects him deeply, even though he’s probably one of the steadiest people Chuuya has ever met.
Just how deep do the cracks go beneath the surface?
Taking a slow breath, Chuuya catches the +
unoccupied arm. Slowly, giving Dazai ample time to pull away, he brings it to his face. The bandages feel rough when he presses his lips to his wrist.
He doesn’t do anything else, just sits there feeling the way the tendons move as Dazai’s fingers curl to cup his cheek. He +
He doesn’t do anything else, just sits there feeling the way the tendons move as Dazai’s fingers curl to cup his cheek. He +
leans his head into his palm, letting his lips whisper up his wrist and over the base of his palm. His fingers are loose around his forearm, just in case it hurts— whether that be physically, or emotionally.
By now, his stomach and thighs have been cleaned pretty well, enough +
By now, his stomach and thighs have been cleaned pretty well, enough +
that he doesn’t think of protesting when Dazai’s hand slows to a stop.
When Dazai shifts upward, bringing their faces level again, Chuuya’s world becomes big, brown eyes that are rapidly softening. His thumb strokes over his cheek, achingly gentle, like Chuuya is something that+
When Dazai shifts upward, bringing their faces level again, Chuuya’s world becomes big, brown eyes that are rapidly softening. His thumb strokes over his cheek, achingly gentle, like Chuuya is something that+
could break.
“Like I said,” Dazai sighs, closing the distance to brush the softest of kisses over his lips. “/Sweet/.”
He doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he lets his body do the talking— arching up into him, letting out a breathy sigh as he accepts the kiss and +
“Like I said,” Dazai sighs, closing the distance to brush the softest of kisses over his lips. “/Sweet/.”
He doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he lets his body do the talking— arching up into him, letting out a breathy sigh as he accepts the kiss and +
silently asks for more.
“So— shower?” Dazai asks again, voice hushed in the small space between them.
Chuuya shakes his head lightly, making a disapproving noise. “No, this is fine.”
He can always take a shower later. For now, he’s mostly clean and he has a more pressing+
“So— shower?” Dazai asks again, voice hushed in the small space between them.
Chuuya shakes his head lightly, making a disapproving noise. “No, this is fine.”
He can always take a shower later. For now, he’s mostly clean and he has a more pressing+
need than to scrub his body down—
Making sure that clouded, distant, /despairing/ look in Dazai’s eyes goes away.
“I’m still cold though,” he whispers, which is true. The steam from the hot water in the sink is barely enough to warm the side of his thigh, and the marble is +
Making sure that clouded, distant, /despairing/ look in Dazai’s eyes goes away.
“I’m still cold though,” he whispers, which is true. The steam from the hot water in the sink is barely enough to warm the side of his thigh, and the marble is +
/freezing/ under his ass, so. There are goosebumps on his thighs.
“Mm, I think I’ve got an idea,” Dazai says, leaning back a little. He goes to toss the towel into the laundry basket—
Only for small fingers to take it from him at the last moment.
Wrapping his other hand+
“Mm, I think I’ve got an idea,” Dazai says, leaning back a little. He goes to toss the towel into the laundry basket—
Only for small fingers to take it from him at the last moment.
Wrapping his other hand+
around Dazai’s chin, he gently tips his head to the side.Frowning in concentration, he takes the cloth and gently wipes at the spot he noticed on Dazai’s face.
His gaze is heavy on his face as Chuuya works, but he tries to ignore it as best he can. His cheeks are burning again.+
His gaze is heavy on his face as Chuuya works, but he tries to ignore it as best he can. His cheeks are burning again.+
(Dazai is not used to being treated gently. He's not even used to people taking care of /him/, because he's usually the one in charge and the one responsible.
He likes it that way, doesn't mind being the one responsible for himself and others. It feels /nice/ to be the one in +
He likes it that way, doesn't mind being the one responsible for himself and others. It feels /nice/ to be the one in +
control, even if it can be a little taxing sometimes.
But you know--
The small concentrated frown on Chuuya's face as he /gently/,so much more gently than Dazai deserves, wipes his face clean, feels pretty nice too. Makes something warm and tender blossom in his chest, setting+
But you know--
The small concentrated frown on Chuuya's face as he /gently/,so much more gently than Dazai deserves, wipes his face clean, feels pretty nice too. Makes something warm and tender blossom in his chest, setting+
roots around his heart and lungs.
Maybe being taken care of isn't so bad either.)
When he's satisfied with his cleaning job, Chuuya lets his chin go. Impulsively, he leans forward and presses a kiss to the place he was just cleaning, smiling softly against Dazai's skin. +
Maybe being taken care of isn't so bad either.)
When he's satisfied with his cleaning job, Chuuya lets his chin go. Impulsively, he leans forward and presses a kiss to the place he was just cleaning, smiling softly against Dazai's skin. +
"All clean," he says with another quick peck, like he's celebrating a job well done.
Shifting his face to press their cheeks together, Dazai tells him, "Thank you, baby."
The smile is thick in his voice, and Chuuya can feel it in his cheeks. All that sad energy from before is+
Shifting his face to press their cheeks together, Dazai tells him, "Thank you, baby."
The smile is thick in his voice, and Chuuya can feel it in his cheeks. All that sad energy from before is+
gone, replaced by something soft and warm.
Not warm /enough/ though because Chuuya shivers again. This time, he can't stop Dazai when he pulls away completely.
Dazai exits the bathroom for a moment, leaving him alone for a quick moment before he's returning again. In his hands+
Not warm /enough/ though because Chuuya shivers again. This time, he can't stop Dazai when he pulls away completely.
Dazai exits the bathroom for a moment, leaving him alone for a quick moment before he's returning again. In his hands+
are the same pair of sweats and button-down shirt he's worn the other times he was here.
(Chuuya doesn't know this, but Dazai put them in a specific spot in his drawer because they might as well be /his/ now, as far as Dazai is concerned.)
Dazai is a lot rougher and more +
(Chuuya doesn't know this, but Dazai put them in a specific spot in his drawer because they might as well be /his/ now, as far as Dazai is concerned.)
Dazai is a lot rougher and more +
perfunctory with his /own/ clean-up, quickly scrubbing his lower belly clean. He also changes into a pair of gray sweats, and Chuuya gets a /mouth-watering/ view of his muscled thighs, lean calves and /ass/ as he changes that is taken away from him far too quickly.
They finish +
They finish +
nearly at the same time. Dazai is still missing a shirt, but Chuuya is /not/ going to remind him that he should probably put one on.
They move back to the bedroom. Chuuya heads for the bed while Dazai opens the door, freezing in the doorway--
"Chuuya, you have a visitor."+
They move back to the bedroom. Chuuya heads for the bed while Dazai opens the door, freezing in the doorway--
"Chuuya, you have a visitor."+
For a second, Chuuya goes blank with panic, eyes wide.
The only ‘visitor’ he can think of is /Shuuji/, and that’s about the worst possible outcome. Shuuji mentioned that he was going out with a girl after finals—with a weird insistence that made Chuuya feel like he was expected+
The only ‘visitor’ he can think of is /Shuuji/, and that’s about the worst possible outcome. Shuuji mentioned that he was going out with a girl after finals—with a weird insistence that made Chuuya feel like he was expected+
to be jealous— but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have come back early. Didn’t mean he couldn’t have arrived home and heard Chuuya choking on his /dad’s dick/.
And if he /did/, god, he’s probably going to tell /everyone/. Keio is a university where your reputation matters just as+
And if he /did/, god, he’s probably going to tell /everyone/. Keio is a university where your reputation matters just as+
much as your grades, and if his /professors/ hear that he slept with Shuuji’s dad behind his back—or whatever story Shuuji would come up with— he can kiss all those recommendation letters and unique opportunities /goodbye/.
His career might be over before it’s even /begun/. +
His career might be over before it’s even /begun/. +
But then Dazai moves over, and a large, furry body comes barrelling in--
Chuuya realizes he was freaking out over nothing. It's just Yoko, happy to see him. Even if she's a little sad that it took so long for him to greet her, tail more sedate than it usually would be.
"Hi, +
Chuuya realizes he was freaking out over nothing. It's just Yoko, happy to see him. Even if she's a little sad that it took so long for him to greet her, tail more sedate than it usually would be.
"Hi, +
pretty girl," he tells her, crouching down to her level. She pushes her nose in his face, like she's reassuring herself that it /is/ still him and he still likes her.
Dazai, she ignores entirely.
Which is fine by him, because he's moving back to the other side of the room and +
Dazai, she ignores entirely.
Which is fine by him, because he's moving back to the other side of the room and +
moving the black-out curtains to reveal a large wall of windows that Chuuya hadn't even realized was there. There's a door there too, and it's dark enough that he can just barely make out the shapes outside.
It must be the balcony, one of the few places he hasn't been in the +
It must be the balcony, one of the few places he hasn't been in the +
house yet. He's seen it from the outside, but considering it's on the second story, he really didn't see much of anything.
Dazai knows the layout well, because he doesn't move to turn on any lights as he maneuvers around the furniture. From the looks of it, there's a table and+
Dazai knows the layout well, because he doesn't move to turn on any lights as he maneuvers around the furniture. From the looks of it, there's a table and+
a few chairs, maybe a couch or perhaps a bar? It's hard to tell without light.
And in the middle of it all--
There's a spark of light as Dazai fiddles with something, that quickly grows into a small fire. He adds something to it--probably charcoal-- and soon it's a lively, +
And in the middle of it all--
There's a spark of light as Dazai fiddles with something, that quickly grows into a small fire. He adds something to it--probably charcoal-- and soon it's a lively, +
crackling flame.
Following him outside with Yoko on his heels, Chuuya takes it in. There /are/ a few chairs and that is definitely a small bar and not a couch. The fire in the middle sits in what looks like a traditional irori table, just elevated for easier access.
Without +
Following him outside with Yoko on his heels, Chuuya takes it in. There /are/ a few chairs and that is definitely a small bar and not a couch. The fire in the middle sits in what looks like a traditional irori table, just elevated for easier access.
Without +
looking at him, Dazai moves over to a storage closet built into the wall of the house. From this angle, Chuuya can't see what he's doing but it only takes a few moments before he's shutting the door again, something big and awkwardly shaped in his hands.
"Come here," he says+
"Come here," he says+
lightly, but Chuuya doesn't have to move a single step because Dazai is already making his way over.
The thing in his hands unfolds easily when he shakes it out and Chuuya realizes--
It's a blanket. Dazai built a fire and got him a blanket simply because he said he was cold, +
The thing in his hands unfolds easily when he shakes it out and Chuuya realizes--
It's a blanket. Dazai built a fire and got him a blanket simply because he said he was cold, +
even though it'd be arguably way easier just to cuddle up in bed.
That would've put him straight to sleep though, so he's grateful that Dazai thought of something else. He doesn't /mind/ sleeping--hopes they do, later, actually-- but he doesn't want to waste a single second +
That would've put him straight to sleep though, so he's grateful that Dazai thought of something else. He doesn't /mind/ sleeping--hopes they do, later, actually-- but he doesn't want to waste a single second +
with Dazai.
It never feels like they get enough /time/. There’s always school for him, work for Dazai. Shuuji is an obstacle they always have to silently work around, and it just never feels like /enough/. Time always goes by too fast, and Chuuya can feel it slipping through +
It never feels like they get enough /time/. There’s always school for him, work for Dazai. Shuuji is an obstacle they always have to silently work around, and it just never feels like /enough/. Time always goes by too fast, and Chuuya can feel it slipping through +
his fingers like water, too slippery to hold onto.
The blanket gets carefully draped over his shoulders, wrapped around his back. It hangs to his calves in the back, just long enough that Chuuya can grab it with one hand in the front to keep it in place.
It’s /so/ soft and +
The blanket gets carefully draped over his shoulders, wrapped around his back. It hangs to his calves in the back, just long enough that Chuuya can grab it with one hand in the front to keep it in place.
It’s /so/ soft and +
clean, surprisingly clean. It instantly creates a layer of cocooning warmth that melts away the last of the cold like it never existed.
Then, almost unsurprisingly--
Dazai picks him up, arms tight around his lower back.
"Why do you pick me up so much?" Chuuya grumbles, even+
Then, almost unsurprisingly--
Dazai picks him up, arms tight around his lower back.
"Why do you pick me up so much?" Chuuya grumbles, even+
as he's clinging to his shoulders.
Dazai pretends to think about it, taking him over to one of the chairs near the fire. He settles them both, leaning against the back with Chuuya in his lap. "Don't you want to pick up tiny things and hold them?"
/Wow/. He really went there.+
Dazai pretends to think about it, taking him over to one of the chairs near the fire. He settles them both, leaning against the back with Chuuya in his lap. "Don't you want to pick up tiny things and hold them?"
/Wow/. He really went there.+
His struggling is thwarted by the gentle, thorough way Dazai is tucking the blanket around his legs. It's too comfortable to protest too much, though he does give a small huff of indignation.
Yoko sits at their side, looking up at Chuuya with a pair of big, pleading eyes. Her +
Yoko sits at their side, looking up at Chuuya with a pair of big, pleading eyes. Her +
fur is fascinating in the firelight, alternating light and dark in the flickering light.
Dazai opens his mouth, probably to say 'no', but Chuuya /easily/ ignores that, patting the empty space beside him with an indulgent smile.
Yoko doesn't need another invitation, jumping up+
Dazai opens his mouth, probably to say 'no', but Chuuya /easily/ ignores that, patting the empty space beside him with an indulgent smile.
Yoko doesn't need another invitation, jumping up+
and claiming the spot for her own. Her massive paws step on Dazai quite a bit as she finds the best way to lay down.
"Back off, mutt," Dazai grunts playfully,arms tightening around Chuuya protectively. "Mine."
That makes Chuuya laugh, reaching out to ruffle Yoko's ears. "Don't+
"Back off, mutt," Dazai grunts playfully,arms tightening around Chuuya protectively. "Mine."
That makes Chuuya laugh, reaching out to ruffle Yoko's ears. "Don't+
be mean to her.She just wants to cuddle."
Dazai huffs into his hair. "I'll have you know that she had /never/ been on any furniture before you came around. You're teaching her bad habits."
"What kind of monster doesn't let their pets on furniture?"
"The kind that doesn't like+
Dazai huffs into his hair. "I'll have you know that she had /never/ been on any furniture before you came around. You're teaching her bad habits."
"What kind of monster doesn't let their pets on furniture?"
"The kind that doesn't like+
to pick off dog hair off my /black furniture/."
Yoko finds a semi-comfortable spot, sprawled across Dazai's lower leg with her head resting on Chuuya's lap. She looks utterly blissful, tail thumping against the chair steadily and her eyes closed.
"Then get furniture that's not+
Yoko finds a semi-comfortable spot, sprawled across Dazai's lower leg with her head resting on Chuuya's lap. She looks utterly blissful, tail thumping against the chair steadily and her eyes closed.
"Then get furniture that's not+
black? The monochrome black thing is giving me depressed teenager vibes anyways."
The mock-offended gasp that Dazai sucks in makes him smile, grateful he's facing away so Dazai can't see his expression melt with affection.
"But /Chuuuya/," he teases, burying his nose into his+
The mock-offended gasp that Dazai sucks in makes him smile, grateful he's facing away so Dazai can't see his expression melt with affection.
"But /Chuuuya/," he teases, burying his nose into his+
neck gently enough to tickle, "this is the /real/ me."
With his hands, he pushes Yoko's ears together on top of her head. It makes her face look funny, almost stretched out. "He's going to need some work," he whispers conspiratorially to her. Her tail thumps in agreement. +
With his hands, he pushes Yoko's ears together on top of her head. It makes her face look funny, almost stretched out. "He's going to need some work," he whispers conspiratorially to her. Her tail thumps in agreement. +
"Don't take sides against me with the /dog/. I might start to think you like her better."
The silence after that is long and /pointed/, like Chuuya is /considering/ it. Chuuya keeps his face turned away deliberately, hiding the smile he can't contain.
The next sniff Dazai +
The silence after that is long and /pointed/, like Chuuya is /considering/ it. Chuuya keeps his face turned away deliberately, hiding the smile he can't contain.
The next sniff Dazai +
is /hurt/. "I see how it is."
He's still holding Chuuya /so/ close though, arms wrapped his waist so tightly it's almost uncomfortable, his chin propped up on his shoulder. Yoko's bony leg must be digging painfully into his skin, but he doesn't mention it or try to move. +
He's still holding Chuuya /so/ close though, arms wrapped his waist so tightly it's almost uncomfortable, his chin propped up on his shoulder. Yoko's bony leg must be digging painfully into his skin, but he doesn't mention it or try to move. +
It's warm and perfect and peaceful. Yoko is heavy on his lap and Dazai is solid beneath him.
Like this, sitting on a balcony with a man and a dog, with the fire dying slowly and the blanket delightfully warm--
Chuuya has never felt so treasured before.
(So loved.)
-------- +
Like this, sitting on a balcony with a man and a dog, with the fire dying slowly and the blanket delightfully warm--
Chuuya has never felt so treasured before.
(So loved.)
-------- +
[ GROUPCHAT: Stray dogs ]:
[ SHUUJI ]:yo wut u guys get on ur finals
[ YUAN ]:best i got was a 83 in calc 2 😩😭 got b's for the rest
[ YUAN ]:still got an A in psychology tho 😎sigmund freud who
[ NIKOLAI ]: I did pretty well!! I should have studied more but I'm not mad!!
+
[ SHUUJI ]:yo wut u guys get on ur finals
[ YUAN ]:best i got was a 83 in calc 2 😩😭 got b's for the rest
[ YUAN ]:still got an A in psychology tho 😎sigmund freud who
[ NIKOLAI ]: I did pretty well!! I should have studied more but I'm not mad!!
+
[ CHUUYA ]: 😎😎😎😎😎😎
[ YUAN ]: what’d you get
[ CHUUYA ]: straight A’s BITCHES. I’m top 10 in our year now 😎
[ NIKOLAI ]: All that hard work and studying paid off then!
[ SHUUJI ]: more like all that cheating lol
[ CHUUYA ]: what??? I studied for like 3 weeks straight
+
[ YUAN ]: what’d you get
[ CHUUYA ]: straight A’s BITCHES. I’m top 10 in our year now 😎
[ NIKOLAI ]: All that hard work and studying paid off then!
[ SHUUJI ]: more like all that cheating lol
[ CHUUYA ]: what??? I studied for like 3 weeks straight
+
for my tests wtf???
[ SHUUJI ]: yeah but acing ALL ur exams? idk sounds fake
[ YUAN ]: stfu shuuji ur just bitter you barely passed your statistics final 🙄 maybe if you had actually studied at all
[ SHUUJI ]: I passed my exam without studying at all so that just shows
+
[ SHUUJI ]: yeah but acing ALL ur exams? idk sounds fake
[ YUAN ]: stfu shuuji ur just bitter you barely passed your statistics final 🙄 maybe if you had actually studied at all
[ SHUUJI ]: I passed my exam without studying at all so that just shows
+
how smart I am lol besides idc about rankings, that shit is for high schoolers.
[ CHUUYA ]: no?? It looks super good on a resume for jobs?? It’s pretty important
[ SHUUJI ]: for u maybe lol
[ YUAN ]: ANYWAYS
[ YUAN ]: we should go out and celebrate!! We have 2 months
+
[ CHUUYA ]: no?? It looks super good on a resume for jobs?? It’s pretty important
[ SHUUJI ]: for u maybe lol
[ YUAN ]: ANYWAYS
[ YUAN ]: we should go out and celebrate!! We have 2 months
+
until 2nd semester and I know we’re all gonna be busy, so let’s go do something while we can!!
[ NIKOLAI ]: I’m in! Maybe dinner or something?
[ CHUUYA ]: when?
[ SHUUJI ]: I can’t, me n dad are gonna go visit my mom
[ CHUUYA ]: what
[ YUAN ]: aren’t they like divorced?
+
[ NIKOLAI ]: I’m in! Maybe dinner or something?
[ CHUUYA ]: when?
[ SHUUJI ]: I can’t, me n dad are gonna go visit my mom
[ CHUUYA ]: what
[ YUAN ]: aren’t they like divorced?
+
[ SHUUJI ]: they never married so not technically
[ YUAN ]: technically whatever. I thought they were separated. Like for good?
[ SHUUJI ]: eh. Ima get them back together lol just watch
[ SHUUJI ]: mom is a lot cooler to be around so ima convince dad to let her move in
+
[ YUAN ]: technically whatever. I thought they were separated. Like for good?
[ SHUUJI ]: eh. Ima get them back together lol just watch
[ SHUUJI ]: mom is a lot cooler to be around so ima convince dad to let her move in
+
[ CHUUYA ]: isn’t he like... involved with.... someone
[ SHUUJI ]: LMFAO no
[ YUAN ]: why do u want them back together so bad?
[ SHUUJI ]: having to take a plane to see mom once a semester is exhausting and my dads a dick by himself so
[ SHUUJI ]: maybe he’ll settle down
+
[ SHUUJI ]: LMFAO no
[ YUAN ]: why do u want them back together so bad?
[ SHUUJI ]: having to take a plane to see mom once a semester is exhausting and my dads a dick by himself so
[ SHUUJI ]: maybe he’ll settle down
+
once he's finally getting some 🙄
[ YUAN ]: 👀
[ SHUUJI ]: shut up slut u already tried to get at him and he rejected u lol
[ SHUUJI ]: also if u sleep with my dad i will actually kill u
[ YUAN ]: a girl wants what a girl wants :\
[ SHUUJI ]: gross
[ YUAN ]: stfu
+
[ YUAN ]: 👀
[ SHUUJI ]: shut up slut u already tried to get at him and he rejected u lol
[ SHUUJI ]: also if u sleep with my dad i will actually kill u
[ YUAN ]: a girl wants what a girl wants :\
[ SHUUJI ]: gross
[ YUAN ]: stfu
+
[ YUAN ]: anyways when do u leave
[ SHUUJI ]: mom said she's calling dad today, so prolly sometime tomorrow
[ YUAN ]: ur dad can get 2 months off work with barely even a 24 hour notice?
[ SHUUJI ]: perks of being a business owner 👅👅
[ YUAN ]: ugh whatever
+
[ SHUUJI ]: mom said she's calling dad today, so prolly sometime tomorrow
[ YUAN ]: ur dad can get 2 months off work with barely even a 24 hour notice?
[ SHUUJI ]: perks of being a business owner 👅👅
[ YUAN ]: ugh whatever
+
[ YUAN ]: anyways chuuya,nikolai you up for dinner? maybe the weekend tho cuz shirase and i got plans tonight
[ NIKOLAI ]: Yeah, that sounds good for me. I have Saturday off work!!
[ YUAN ]: omg first time in forever
[ YUAN ]: wbu chuuya
[ YUAN ]: ....chuuya? where'd u go?
+
[ NIKOLAI ]: Yeah, that sounds good for me. I have Saturday off work!!
[ YUAN ]: omg first time in forever
[ YUAN ]: wbu chuuya
[ YUAN ]: ....chuuya? where'd u go?
+
----- +
Dazai's /other/ phone doesn't ring that often. Only a handful of people have that number, because anyone who is connected at all to his underground life have the number to his disposable phones.
This phone is under a different name, paid through a series of +
Dazai's /other/ phone doesn't ring that often. Only a handful of people have that number, because anyone who is connected at all to his underground life have the number to his disposable phones.
This phone is under a different name, paid through a series of +
untraceable feeder bank accounts that are /also/ not in his name. The phone used to be used so rarely that it functioned more as an expensive paperweight--
But that's changing, as of recently. The only people who have this number are Shuuji, Chuuya, and...
Sasaki.
Who is +
But that's changing, as of recently. The only people who have this number are Shuuji, Chuuya, and...
Sasaki.
Who is +
calling him right now.
It's /strange/, because she rarely calls him directly. Usually she just sends messages through Shuuji, which is a weird, unreliable method of communication. Or it's texts, which is fine, except that she rarely actually /finishes/ a conversation before +
It's /strange/, because she rarely calls him directly. Usually she just sends messages through Shuuji, which is a weird, unreliable method of communication. Or it's texts, which is fine, except that she rarely actually /finishes/ a conversation before +
she disappears. As soon as she gets what she came for, that's enough for her.
He accepts the call, bringing the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
As usual, Sasaki's voice is syrupy sweet and filled with warm welcome. "/Hello/, darling. It's been a while since we talked; how are you?"+
He accepts the call, bringing the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
As usual, Sasaki's voice is syrupy sweet and filled with warm welcome. "/Hello/, darling. It's been a while since we talked; how are you?"+
Dazai leans back in his chair. He's at home today, mostly going over information for the call he's scheduled with Fyodor later today. It's sure to be filled with subtle insults, and running circles around each other while trying to get the upper hand.
He already has a headache.+
He already has a headache.+
"Fine," he responds, because he's not going into all of that with her, "you?"
She sighs, heavy and distraught. "I wish I could say I was doing good as well,but the truth is, I'm /very/ concerned and worried."
Dazai arches an eyebrow, wondering why she called him to /complain/.+
She sighs, heavy and distraught. "I wish I could say I was doing good as well,but the truth is, I'm /very/ concerned and worried."
Dazai arches an eyebrow, wondering why she called him to /complain/.+
"About?"
"Shuuji told you about his grades, didn't he? They're /abysmally/ low, not up to expectations at all."
Dazai /does/ know about that, mostly because Shuuji went on a rant about how his professors suck and didn't grade him fairly. Personally, Dazai thought his scores +
"Shuuji told you about his grades, didn't he? They're /abysmally/ low, not up to expectations at all."
Dazai /does/ know about that, mostly because Shuuji went on a rant about how his professors suck and didn't grade him fairly. Personally, Dazai thought his scores +
were because he spent too little time studying and too much time staying up until the small hours of the night playing video games but hey--
What does he know?He didn't even go to college.
(Chuuya did call him when he got /his/ scores, shouting excitedly into the speaker about+
What does he know?He didn't even go to college.
(Chuuya did call him when he got /his/ scores, shouting excitedly into the speaker about+
his updated class rankings. And should Dazai be proud that Chuuya utterly /destroyed/ his son?
Probably not, but the chibi /earned/ it. He ran himself /ragged/ preparing for finals, so yeah, Dazai /is/ proud of him.)
"I'm aware," he says, "but I'm not sure what you want me to +
Probably not, but the chibi /earned/ it. He ran himself /ragged/ preparing for finals, so yeah, Dazai /is/ proud of him.)
"I'm aware," he says, "but I'm not sure what you want me to +
do about it."
"That's /exactly/ the kind of attitude that allowed him to get those grades," Sasaki huffs into the speaker. There's a bit of background noise behind her, something that sounds like people talking and a busy street. "He needs a firm hand to guide him, so he can do+
"That's /exactly/ the kind of attitude that allowed him to get those grades," Sasaki huffs into the speaker. There's a bit of background noise behind her, something that sounds like people talking and a busy street. "He needs a firm hand to guide him, so he can do+
his work at the level we both /know/ he can acheive."
Shuuji is smart, he won't deny that. The problem is that instead of developing that intelligence, it's made him /lazy/. He doesn't study, doesn't work to develop himself or his skills, nothing.
He's been coasting through+
Shuuji is smart, he won't deny that. The problem is that instead of developing that intelligence, it's made him /lazy/. He doesn't study, doesn't work to develop himself or his skills, nothing.
He's been coasting through+
life, resting on the knowledge that he'll be able to achieve anything he wants with only the skills he was born with and the resources that are handed to him--
And frankly, Dazai doesn't particularly care to break him of the habit. Sometimes. the best lessons are the ones you +
And frankly, Dazai doesn't particularly care to break him of the habit. Sometimes. the best lessons are the ones you +
learn the hard way.
"He /is/ an adult, Sasaki.He's perfectly aware of what he needs to do to get good grades, and there's plenty of resources he can use if he needs them. I shouldn't need to hold his hand to make sure he does what he needs to do."
"It's not /holding his hand/,+
"He /is/ an adult, Sasaki.He's perfectly aware of what he needs to do to get good grades, and there's plenty of resources he can use if he needs them. I shouldn't need to hold his hand to make sure he does what he needs to do."
"It's not /holding his hand/,+
Osamu," Sasaki hisses, and something about the way she says his given name always rubs him the wrong way. Like the fact that she uses it makes them more /familiar/ with each other, more /intimate/. "It's doing your /job/ as a parent."
Admittedly, that hurts just as much as it +
Admittedly, that hurts just as much as it +
was probably meant to.
A lot of things come naturally to Dazai, but parenting has never been one of them.He never felt that all-encompassing love and affection that all the books described. He never felt particularly drawn to him either, even when he was smaller.
Most of what+
A lot of things come naturally to Dazai, but parenting has never been one of them.He never felt that all-encompassing love and affection that all the books described. He never felt particularly drawn to him either, even when he was smaller.
Most of what+
he feels, actually, is gut-wrenching /terror/.
Dazai knows what it's like to grow up with an absent father. His own father never really took an interest in him as a child. He was always busy with something else, or so irritated that his mother gently guided him away to play +
Dazai knows what it's like to grow up with an absent father. His own father never really took an interest in him as a child. He was always busy with something else, or so irritated that his mother gently guided him away to play +
elsewhere.
And back then, it didn't matter /that/ much. Yes, he wanted his fathers attention, but his mother was very loving and there was always tomorrow right?
Tomorrow, father wouldn't be busy. Tomorrow, father wouldn't be angry. Tomorrow, father would look at the model +
And back then, it didn't matter /that/ much. Yes, he wanted his fathers attention, but his mother was very loving and there was always tomorrow right?
Tomorrow, father wouldn't be busy. Tomorrow, father wouldn't be angry. Tomorrow, father would look at the model +
city Dazai made for school-- and got the /highest/ score in the whole class with-- and he would /smile/.
And then, in the span of fifteen minutes, there were no tomorrows.
Then, Dazai learned what it was like to be raised with someone /cruel/. Someone that taught him, with +
And then, in the span of fifteen minutes, there were no tomorrows.
Then, Dazai learned what it was like to be raised with someone /cruel/. Someone that taught him, with +
unwavering accuracy, that /no one/ was to be trusted. Everyone else could hurt him or /would/ hurt him, on purpose or /seemingly/ by accident.
The only one Dazai could rely on was himself. The only one who wouldn’t hurt him was himself.
(Which is ironic, considering that +
The only one Dazai could rely on was himself. The only one who wouldn’t hurt him was himself.
(Which is ironic, considering that +
a /lot/ of his pain was self-inflicted, back then.)
It’s something he still struggles with to this day, the lessons Mori taught him with a disarming smile. The urge to be in control at all times is one he can never escape, and the thought of letting someone discover his +
It’s something he still struggles with to this day, the lessons Mori taught him with a disarming smile. The urge to be in control at all times is one he can never escape, and the thought of letting someone discover his +
vulnerabilities makes him want to /bite/.
And because he knows what /both/ ends of the bad father spectrum are like—
He’s terrified to figure out where /he/ lies on that scale.
He never wanted children to begin with, but neither does he want to inflict the pain he felt onto+
And because he knows what /both/ ends of the bad father spectrum are like—
He’s terrified to figure out where /he/ lies on that scale.
He never wanted children to begin with, but neither does he want to inflict the pain he felt onto+
someone else.
So he’s trapped in this endless cycle, because if he gets /too/ involved, the anger that Shuuji naturally incites in him might take /over/, and he might do something hurtful—
And if he’s /too/ distant, it’s like he doesn’t care at all, like Shuuji never had a +
So he’s trapped in this endless cycle, because if he gets /too/ involved, the anger that Shuuji naturally incites in him might take /over/, and he might do something hurtful—
And if he’s /too/ distant, it’s like he doesn’t care at all, like Shuuji never had a +
father to begin with.
He’s /trying/ to figure out a good balance, but it’s hard.
“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Dazai eventually sighs, pinching his nose. His headache has worsened.
“You’re lucky you have me then, don’t you?” Sasaki sniffs, sounding far too proud.+
He’s /trying/ to figure out a good balance, but it’s hard.
“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Dazai eventually sighs, pinching his nose. His headache has worsened.
“You’re lucky you have me then, don’t you?” Sasaki sniffs, sounding far too proud.+
“He should come visit me. He’s worked hard this semester, and he deserves a little rest and recharge so he can be prepared for the next semester.”
Weren’t they just arguing about how he didn’t work hard /enough/?Or was it only Dazai who didn’t try enough?
“Fine, whatever. I’ll+
Weren’t they just arguing about how he didn’t work hard /enough/?Or was it only Dazai who didn’t try enough?
“Fine, whatever. I’ll+
book a flight. He has two months off anyways.”
Maybe it’ll be good to get some distance between them for a little while too. They’ve only been living together for a little over 8 months, so maybe it’ll give Dazai some time to figure out a game plan regarding their relationship.+
Maybe it’ll be good to get some distance between them for a little while too. They’ve only been living together for a little over 8 months, so maybe it’ll give Dazai some time to figure out a game plan regarding their relationship.+
"You know," Sasaki continues, her voice dropping into something cajoling. "You should really consider coming with him. It'd be good for us all, to have some bonding time. I can teach you how to handle him better, how to be a better father to him."
Eyebrows shooting up, Dazai +
Eyebrows shooting up, Dazai +
gives an incredulous laugh. "Not only do I /not/ need parenting advice from you, thank you, but I also cannot take 2 months off work on a whim."
(Which isn't /strictly/ true, he could do it if he really wanted to. He could manage his network through phone calls, if he was +
(Which isn't /strictly/ true, he could do it if he really wanted to. He could manage his network through phone calls, if he was +
motivated.
But he's /not/.
Plus, he's planning on doing /something/ for Chuuya over break to celebrate his scores. He's not sure what yet-- he's torn between taking him for a weekend trip to Tokyo, or maybe Osaka, or paying for an extended trip back to his family home.
He'd +
But he's /not/.
Plus, he's planning on doing /something/ for Chuuya over break to celebrate his scores. He's not sure what yet-- he's torn between taking him for a weekend trip to Tokyo, or maybe Osaka, or paying for an extended trip back to his family home.
He'd +
mentioned mentioning his father and his sister once, which is enough for Dazai to add to his his plans.
Maybe he’ll do both? A top 10 spot certainly deserves those and much more, but he’s learned to be /careful/ with spending money on Chuuya where he can see it.
He gets +
Maybe he’ll do both? A top 10 spot certainly deserves those and much more, but he’s learned to be /careful/ with spending money on Chuuya where he can see it.
He gets +
/skittish/ whenever Dazai spoils him— something he’ll grow out of, hopefully— although Dazai has enough money to spare for several lifetimes.
Truthfully, he’d find a way even if he /was/ poor, but he doesn’t mention that to Chuuya.
The point is—
Even if he /did/ want to+
Truthfully, he’d find a way even if he /was/ poor, but he doesn’t mention that to Chuuya.
The point is—
Even if he /did/ want to+
visit Sasaki— which he doesn’t— he already has /plans/.
He’s just waiting to tell Chuuya when he has a more solid plan.)
This time Sasaki sounds positively sulking as she mutters, “Shuuji told me he’d talked to you already, and that you were prepared.”
He’s barely even +
He’s just waiting to tell Chuuya when he has a more solid plan.)
This time Sasaki sounds positively sulking as she mutters, “Shuuji told me he’d talked to you already, and that you were prepared.”
He’s barely even +
/talked/ to the kid for the past 2 weeks, because he’s been shut up in his room nearly the entire time, so how the hell would they have talked about that?
“Well, he was misinformed.”
Sasaki says something, but it sounds like it’s directed to someone else, because her voice is+
“Well, he was misinformed.”
Sasaki says something, but it sounds like it’s directed to someone else, because her voice is+
suddenly muffled and far away, like she’s covering the receiver with her hand.
There’s faint sounds from the other end, like plates being cleared away. She must be at a restaurant or a cafe.
After a moment, her voice comes back clear again. “I suppose I can’t fault you for+
There’s faint sounds from the other end, like plates being cleared away. She must be at a restaurant or a cafe.
After a moment, her voice comes back clear again. “I suppose I can’t fault you for+
being so dedicated to your work. That sets a good example for Shuuji.”
Dazai can’t help but snort. /Him/, a good example. Laughable.
“In that case, I will have to make my own arrangements then. I’m sure everything will be easier if I move up there to Yokohama with you.” +
Dazai can’t help but snort. /Him/, a good example. Laughable.
“In that case, I will have to make my own arrangements then. I’m sure everything will be easier if I move up there to Yokohama with you.” +
That makes Dazai stall out in surprise. The /main/ reason Shuuji moved in with him is because Sasaki didn't want to give up her home in Kyoto.
Which is understandable, but she was so /worried/ about him moving into the dorms by himself-- "he's not /ready/, Osamu"-- that his +
Which is understandable, but she was so /worried/ about him moving into the dorms by himself-- "he's not /ready/, Osamu"-- that his +
only option was, apparently,to move in with Dazai.
Which was a /big/ adjustment and commitment that he doesn't think he was ready for,but he wasn't about to say /no/ when Shuuji asked. They made it work.
What Sasaki is saying--
It sounds like she wants to move in with /them/.+
Which was a /big/ adjustment and commitment that he doesn't think he was ready for,but he wasn't about to say /no/ when Shuuji asked. They made it work.
What Sasaki is saying--
It sounds like she wants to move in with /them/.+
Which is not only /presumptuous/, considering that they haven't had much of a relationship for over a decade, but it also doesn't work for /practical/ reasons.
"If you want to move to Yokohama for Shuuji, that's great, but you can't stay /here/. I don't have any more bedrooms."+
"If you want to move to Yokohama for Shuuji, that's great, but you can't stay /here/. I don't have any more bedrooms."+
There's a soft little huff on the other side of the line and the faint sounds of sipping. "Oh, that's not a problem, Osamu," she breezes, "we've shared a bed before, it's not something /new/. It would probably be /enjoyable/."
As come-on's go, that's not very subtle. Nor is it +
As come-on's go, that's not very subtle. Nor is it +
particularly /tempting/. He hasn't been intimate with Sasaki since that one trip nearly /eight/ years ago, and he's not interested in breaking the dry spell.
"Nice try, but that was a /long/ time ago. No one sleeps in my bed besides me." /And Chuuya/, his mind adds silently. +
"Nice try, but that was a /long/ time ago. No one sleeps in my bed besides me." /And Chuuya/, his mind adds silently. +
This time Sasaki sounds almost /upset/. "Come /on/, Osamu, how are we supposed to bond as a family when you're being so /stubborn/? I'll sleep on the couch if I must, but I need somewhere to stay until I get my own place."
/If/ she gets her own place.
The sheer audacity of +
/If/ she gets her own place.
The sheer audacity of +
this whole conversation has him snorting.
And to be honest, /before/, he might've given in, simply because he was so lonely. Might've given their relationship another shot, just because it was better than the endless monotony of fuck-and-leave situations at the club.
But now+
And to be honest, /before/, he might've given in, simply because he was so lonely. Might've given their relationship another shot, just because it was better than the endless monotony of fuck-and-leave situations at the club.
But now+
his mind flashes to red hair and smiling bright blue eyes and--
Feels nothing but derision.
"There are hotels," he reminds her, gleefully petty.
The offended gasp she lets out is honestly hilarious, like the idea of sleeping in a /hotel/, even a nice one, is hideous to her.+
Feels nothing but derision.
"There are hotels," he reminds her, gleefully petty.
The offended gasp she lets out is honestly hilarious, like the idea of sleeping in a /hotel/, even a nice one, is hideous to her.+
"/Osamu/," she starts, but he quickly cuts her off.
"Is there anything else you needed?"
There's a heavy silence on the other end, punctuated with a slight sniffle. Is she going to /cry/?
"I don't know why you're being so /cold/ to me," she sniffs, voice distraught, "I just +
"Is there anything else you needed?"
There's a heavy silence on the other end, punctuated with a slight sniffle. Is she going to /cry/?
"I don't know why you're being so /cold/ to me," she sniffs, voice distraught, "I just +
want us to be a /family/ again."
They were never a family. She made sure of that when she left the city when she found out she was pregnant with Shuuji, retreating to her family's home in Kyoto.
When he offered to follow, to come with, to /help/, she told him he wasn't allowed+
They were never a family. She made sure of that when she left the city when she found out she was pregnant with Shuuji, retreating to her family's home in Kyoto.
When he offered to follow, to come with, to /help/, she told him he wasn't allowed+
to be near /her/ child until he could guarantee they wouldn't be hurt because of him.
Which is /never/ a guarantee, simply because of who Dazai is, so he stayed away.
(He won't lie and say he wasn't /relieved/, because the idea of being with a pregnant woman and then some day+
Which is /never/ a guarantee, simply because of who Dazai is, so he stayed away.
(He won't lie and say he wasn't /relieved/, because the idea of being with a pregnant woman and then some day+
an infant child was /terrifying/. He was only 16, and one of the bloodiest people in Yokohama to this /day/.
Maybe it was unfair to leave Sasaki to raise Shuuji with no help except for his parents but--
He offered. She refused. They're both at fault for how things turned out.)+
Maybe it was unfair to leave Sasaki to raise Shuuji with no help except for his parents but--
He offered. She refused. They're both at fault for how things turned out.)+
"Sasaki," he sighs, wondering how to explain that he /doesn't/ view her as family and he's not interested in changing that. "I don't think that's a good idea. I'll keep supporting you and Shuuji, but I think we should just let the past stay in the past."
She's quiet for so long+
She's quiet for so long+
that he actually pulls his phone away from his ear to check if she had hung up on him.
Then, in such a pitiful voice that it causes him a twinge of guilt, she asks, "Is there someone else?"
As in, is he /dating/ someone else.
And here, Dazai comes across a conundrum. +
Then, in such a pitiful voice that it causes him a twinge of guilt, she asks, "Is there someone else?"
As in, is he /dating/ someone else.
And here, Dazai comes across a conundrum. +
Because his first instinct is to say /yes, I'm in a relationship with a bite-sized chibi, thank you, goodbye/, but once he takes a second to think about it...
He's not actually sure if that's true?
Obviously there /are/ some sort of feelings between them, but they've never +
He's not actually sure if that's true?
Obviously there /are/ some sort of feelings between them, but they've never +
discussed them in any capacity.
The /assumption/ of them is there,because while Dazai is /intimately/ familiar with the idea of fucking without feelings--
He doesn't think Chuuya is that type of person, especially as inexperienced as he is.
However, even if Chuuya /does/ have+
The /assumption/ of them is there,because while Dazai is /intimately/ familiar with the idea of fucking without feelings--
He doesn't think Chuuya is that type of person, especially as inexperienced as he is.
However, even if Chuuya /does/ have+
feelings for him, that doesn't mean he wants to pursue them in any meaningful way. Dazai is /literally/ old enough to be his father, and while that might be sexy /now/--
He is also aware of the fact that Chuuya is alone and self-managed for the first time in his life, out from+
He is also aware of the fact that Chuuya is alone and self-managed for the first time in his life, out from+
underneath the thumb of an apparently very strict father, and is most likely going through a /rebellious/ phase.
Dazai might just be his rebellious phase that one day he'll grow out of,once the novelty wears off.
Which is /fine/,Dazai would never try to push him into something+
Dazai might just be his rebellious phase that one day he'll grow out of,once the novelty wears off.
Which is /fine/,Dazai would never try to push him into something+
he didn't want.
It's just he,personally, /does/ want something more. He /likes/ Chuuya. Likes the way he looks in his bed, likes the way he submits so easily to him, likes his fiery attitude when he's being /bratty/, likes the way the /dogs/ like him, likes the way he looks in+
It's just he,personally, /does/ want something more. He /likes/ Chuuya. Likes the way he looks in his bed, likes the way he submits so easily to him, likes his fiery attitude when he's being /bratty/, likes the way the /dogs/ like him, likes the way he looks in+
his kitchen and his car and his /life/.
The idea of giving him up someday is painful,and the idea that Chuuya might not feel the same way about /him/ is scary.
They /need/ to talk about it,but Dazai's never been in a real relationship before,and he doesn't know how to /start/.+
The idea of giving him up someday is painful,and the idea that Chuuya might not feel the same way about /him/ is scary.
They /need/ to talk about it,but Dazai's never been in a real relationship before,and he doesn't know how to /start/.+
Plus, combine that with the emotional vulnerability that requires and--
It becomes a conversation that Dazai wants to avoid at any costs.
"That's none of your business," he settles on eventually, "and it wouldn't matter if I was."
He is also not unaware of the relationship+
It becomes a conversation that Dazai wants to avoid at any costs.
"That's none of your business," he settles on eventually, "and it wouldn't matter if I was."
He is also not unaware of the relationship+
Shuuji has with his mother. If she knows he's interested in someone, it's likely that she'll tell Shuuji, who will /probably/ start hounding him for information and snooping around to figure out who--
And, considering that Chuuya was, at one point, the person Shuuji was +
And, considering that Chuuya was, at one point, the person Shuuji was +
interested in, that situation might turn bad quickly.
No, the first one to know if they are in a relationship or not will be /Chuuya/.
"Oh, so you're just being stubborn then."
Sure, whatever. He doesn't care enough to argue about it, especially not right now. "I will book a +
No, the first one to know if they are in a relationship or not will be /Chuuya/.
"Oh, so you're just being stubborn then."
Sure, whatever. He doesn't care enough to argue about it, especially not right now. "I will book a +
flight for Shuuji this weekend. Is there a particular date you want him on?"
Sasaki makes a thoughtful noise, the faint noise of utensils scraping over a plate coming from the background. Somehow the idea of her tearing up at a public restaurant makes this whole conversation +
Sasaki makes a thoughtful noise, the faint noise of utensils scraping over a plate coming from the background. Somehow the idea of her tearing up at a public restaurant makes this whole conversation +
even more ridiculous.
"No, any day is fine with me. My schedule is pretty free after Ida and I--"
She cuts herself there, suddenly realizing she's said a little too much.
So /that's/ why she was so adamant about seducing him again. "You know, Sasaki, it's not very polite to +
"No, any day is fine with me. My schedule is pretty free after Ida and I--"
She cuts herself there, suddenly realizing she's said a little too much.
So /that's/ why she was so adamant about seducing him again. "You know, Sasaki, it's not very polite to +
mention another man to the man you're trying to convince to sleep with you."
Silence.Sweet, awkward,blessed silence,as she tries to figure out what to say to /that/.
He doesn't allow her the chance. "I'll send you the details when I have them.Goodbye,Sasaki."
"Osamu, wait--."+
Silence.Sweet, awkward,blessed silence,as she tries to figure out what to say to /that/.
He doesn't allow her the chance. "I'll send you the details when I have them.Goodbye,Sasaki."
"Osamu, wait--."+
He hangs up, feeling a strong sense of victory even though he didn't really /win/ anything. He's sure he'll hear about it later-- either from Shuuji complaining on his mother's behalf, or another call-- but for now, it's over and peace settles over him again.
He still has a few+
He still has a few+
hours until his conference with Fyodor--which will, n all likelihood, be pushed back another hour or two because Fyodor is /petty/--so he drags out his laptop and starts looking at flights.
The earliest flight from here to Kyoto is two days from now, on a Monday. It's a red-eye+
The earliest flight from here to Kyoto is two days from now, on a Monday. It's a red-eye+
flight that leaves at 6 in the morning.
It gives Dazai great petty pleasure to book it, knowing that Shuuji will have to wake up at four or even /earlier/ to make the flight.
And while he's there...
He can't help but look up flights to Osaka. There's a first class flight +
It gives Dazai great petty pleasure to book it, knowing that Shuuji will have to wake up at four or even /earlier/ to make the flight.
And while he's there...
He can't help but look up flights to Osaka. There's a first class flight +
that leaves next Saturday, at 11 in the morning. He’s taken a few flights to Osaka, so he knows that the view from above is /beautiful/ and he wouldn’t want Chuuya to miss it.
The recommended return flight is five days later, same time. Almost a week.
And there’s an ad for +
The recommended return flight is five days later, same time. Almost a week.
And there’s an ad for +
a nearby hotel, which /conveniently/ has a terrace suite that is available for reservation on those same five days.
(It’s the /ads/, that’s how they get you, every time.)
Dazai remembers the way Chuuya literally would not let them leave /his/ balcony until he actually fell +
(It’s the /ads/, that’s how they get you, every time.)
Dazai remembers the way Chuuya literally would not let them leave /his/ balcony until he actually fell +
asleep in his arms and had to be carried back to bed.
It wouldn’t be the same, particularly because the suite doesn’t come with one furry menace that answered to the name Yoko, /but/ Dazai thinks he’d like the view. The city lights of Osaka at night are incredible.
He hovers+
It wouldn’t be the same, particularly because the suite doesn’t come with one furry menace that answered to the name Yoko, /but/ Dazai thinks he’d like the view. The city lights of Osaka at night are incredible.
He hovers+
over the ‘book reservation’ button for a long time, wondering how exactly he should go about doing this.
They aren’t /quite/ at the point where Dazai can just whisk Chuuya away for a few days without a single problem or any hesitance.
He /does/ want it to be a surprise though,+
They aren’t /quite/ at the point where Dazai can just whisk Chuuya away for a few days without a single problem or any hesitance.
He /does/ want it to be a surprise though,+
because he /loves/ that look of wide-eyed wonder and surprise he gets whenever Dazai takes him somewhere new.
Hm. He'll have to play it by ear, but he will have to ask.
He picks up his phone again, scrolling to Chuuya's contact. Maybe it's a /bit/ early, but he has it saved +
Hm. He'll have to play it by ear, but he will have to ask.
He picks up his phone again, scrolling to Chuuya's contact. Maybe it's a /bit/ early, but he has it saved +
under 'baby'. He's constantly torn on the profile picture--he loves the first picture Chuuya ever sent him, the teasingly seductive one where he's wearing his shirt.
But the /secret/ one Dazai took while he was sleeping, hair spread out over Dazai's pillow and his face soft and+
But the /secret/ one Dazai took while he was sleeping, hair spread out over Dazai's pillow and his face soft and+
lax with sleep. Yoko is in that one too,barely, the tips of her ears poking up from behind his head from where she's lying behind him.
Maybe he'll make one his background picture,since he can't seem to decide.
He presses the call button, headache already starting to fade away.+
Maybe he'll make one his background picture,since he can't seem to decide.
He presses the call button, headache already starting to fade away.+
--- +
He won't admit this to anyone else, but Chuuya is /sulking/. Hiding underneath his blanket, grumpily staring at his phone, refusing to answer his friends texts.The whole she-bang.
He's not /proud/ of it, but fuck, his feelings are /hurt/. Maybe they shouldn't be--it's not+
He won't admit this to anyone else, but Chuuya is /sulking/. Hiding underneath his blanket, grumpily staring at his phone, refusing to answer his friends texts.The whole she-bang.
He's not /proud/ of it, but fuck, his feelings are /hurt/. Maybe they shouldn't be--it's not+
like Dazai has an /obligation/ to him-- but he should've at least /said/ something.
Chuuya is on break for a little under two months, and he's essentially stranded here at campus because he doesn't have enough money to take the trip back home. He hasn't asked his dad or Kouyou+
Chuuya is on break for a little under two months, and he's essentially stranded here at campus because he doesn't have enough money to take the trip back home. He hasn't asked his dad or Kouyou+
for extra money yet, because he /assumed/ that Dazai would want to do something with him over break.
An assumption that was /embarrassingly/ wrong, apparently, because Dazai is going to visit his /baby mama/ with his son for an /unknown/ amount of time. Maybe all of break!
+
An assumption that was /embarrassingly/ wrong, apparently, because Dazai is going to visit his /baby mama/ with his son for an /unknown/ amount of time. Maybe all of break!
+
Shuuji certainly made it /sound/ like it was all of break.
And really, they've been texting nearly non-stop and called a few times, /and/ had that date last week, so there was /plenty/ of opportunity for Dazai to /tell/ him he was leaving for /two months/!
He's in his notes+
And really, they've been texting nearly non-stop and called a few times, /and/ had that date last week, so there was /plenty/ of opportunity for Dazai to /tell/ him he was leaving for /two months/!
He's in his notes+
app, writing a /strongly/ worded letter to Dazai that will never see the light of day. It's mostly just cursing and calling him a small-dicked motherfucker--that part is erased with a particularly fierce scowl because that's simply not true, and Chuuya knows it--and it's just an+
anger management tool so he doesn't do anything /rash/.
Like call Dazai and ask why he didn't tell him. He's /not/ breaking the silence on that subject first, even if it leaves him huffing irritably underneath his blankets--
[ INCOMING CALL: Daddy 🥰💕]
[ ACCEPT OR DECLINE ]
+
Like call Dazai and ask why he didn't tell him. He's /not/ breaking the silence on that subject first, even if it leaves him huffing irritably underneath his blankets--
[ INCOMING CALL: Daddy 🥰💕]
[ ACCEPT OR DECLINE ]
+
He lets it ring once, twice, torn about what to do.
The /petty/ part of him wants to ignore it and send it to voicemail.
The angry part of him wants to answer it and demand answers.
The lovesick part of him is going 'Dazai!!!' complete with sparkles and heart eyes.
+
The /petty/ part of him wants to ignore it and send it to voicemail.
The angry part of him wants to answer it and demand answers.
The lovesick part of him is going 'Dazai!!!' complete with sparkles and heart eyes.
+
And well--
Not answering probably won't make his mood better.
Answering might make it /worse/, but he's getting tired of ranting to his lifeless app. It makes him feel pathetic, anger twisting uselessly in his gut until he feels sick.
He clicks accept with a haughty sniff, +
Not answering probably won't make his mood better.
Answering might make it /worse/, but he's getting tired of ranting to his lifeless app. It makes him feel pathetic, anger twisting uselessly in his gut until he feels sick.
He clicks accept with a haughty sniff, +
not even greeting Dazai with a hello.
Dazai doesn't seem to notice though, because as soon as he hears Chuuya's breathing on the other line, he's saying with a low, empathetic voice, like he's /so/ happy he answered, "Good evening, lovely."
Chuuya's traitor stomach flips with+
Dazai doesn't seem to notice though, because as soon as he hears Chuuya's breathing on the other line, he's saying with a low, empathetic voice, like he's /so/ happy he answered, "Good evening, lovely."
Chuuya's traitor stomach flips with+
happiness at the quality of his voice. At the smile he can /hear/.
"Hi," he manages to grumble, trying to keep most of the anger out of his voice.He doesn't want to tip Dazai off that he's irritated /too/ early.
"Did I wake you up?" Dazai asks, sounding a little /too/ amused.+
"Hi," he manages to grumble, trying to keep most of the anger out of his voice.He doesn't want to tip Dazai off that he's irritated /too/ early.
"Did I wake you up?" Dazai asks, sounding a little /too/ amused.+
And well, that /is/ a good reason for how irritable he sounds right now. "Yes," he sniffs, "I'm /grumpy/."
The little 'awwww' Dazai lets out sounds like he thinks that's /adorable/ instead of frightening or something to be wary of. Jerk.
"Well, I have something that might fix +
The little 'awwww' Dazai lets out sounds like he thinks that's /adorable/ instead of frightening or something to be wary of. Jerk.
"Well, I have something that might fix +
that."
...Let it be known that Chuuya's good moods /can/ be bought. "Like what?"
Dazai's voice is distantly curious,like the answer he might get doesn't matter /too/ much."Do you have plans for next weekend and the week following?"
Yes,actually, a strict schedule of seething,+
...Let it be known that Chuuya's good moods /can/ be bought. "Like what?"
Dazai's voice is distantly curious,like the answer he might get doesn't matter /too/ much."Do you have plans for next weekend and the week following?"
Yes,actually, a strict schedule of seething,+
wallowing and throwing himself a pity party.He simply cannot miss it. "No, I don't think so. Why?"
"What do you think about going on a little trip together?"
Chuuya blinks in surprise, mind stalling out. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but it wasn't /that/. Not only is he+
"What do you think about going on a little trip together?"
Chuuya blinks in surprise, mind stalling out. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but it wasn't /that/. Not only is he+
kind of surprised that Dazai wants to do something as involved as 'taking a trip together', but he also thought--
"Aren't you busy? I thought you were leaving Yokohama for break?"
The silence he receives from that is so filled with confusion that Chuuya is starting to rethink +
"Aren't you busy? I thought you were leaving Yokohama for break?"
The silence he receives from that is so filled with confusion that Chuuya is starting to rethink +
this whole situation.
"Chuuya..." whenever Dazai says his /name/ instead of one of the many nicknames he has for him, it always makes Chuuya think he's about to be told something serious. Or that he's in trouble. "What made you think I was leaving?"
Swallowing hard, Chuuya +
"Chuuya..." whenever Dazai says his /name/ instead of one of the many nicknames he has for him, it always makes Chuuya think he's about to be told something serious. Or that he's in trouble. "What made you think I was leaving?"
Swallowing hard, Chuuya +
mutters something into the phone that's too low to hear.
"What?"
"I said," he repeats, taking a deep breath because now he's starting to feel /stupid/. "That Shuuji told me."
Another silence, this one longer and more painful simply because Chuuya feels like he /messed up/. +
"What?"
"I said," he repeats, taking a deep breath because now he's starting to feel /stupid/. "That Shuuji told me."
Another silence, this one longer and more painful simply because Chuuya feels like he /messed up/. +
That he over-reacted or was being /stupid/.
"First off, Shuuji does /not/ speak for me. If he tells you something and you don't know if it's true or not-- please talk to me first before believing him." Dazai's voice is firm but not angry or loud.
Chuuya shrinks a little. He+
"First off, Shuuji does /not/ speak for me. If he tells you something and you don't know if it's true or not-- please talk to me first before believing him." Dazai's voice is firm but not angry or loud.
Chuuya shrinks a little. He+
should've known better. He shouldn't have just /blindly/ believed Shuuji, especially because he lied to him before.
Stupid, stupid, too trusting, naïve, /stupid/.
"I'm assuming he told you before the last hour, in which case-- I wasn't even /talked/ to about visiting his +
Stupid, stupid, too trusting, naïve, /stupid/.
"I'm assuming he told you before the last hour, in which case-- I wasn't even /talked/ to about visiting his +
mother with him when he told you that. And when I was asked, I told them /no/. Do you know why?"
Curled up beneath his blankets feeling like the year's biggest idiot, Chuuya mutters in his smallest voice, "No. Why?"
"Because I wanted to make plans with /you/, baby."
Oh. +
Curled up beneath his blankets feeling like the year's biggest idiot, Chuuya mutters in his smallest voice, "No. Why?"
"Because I wanted to make plans with /you/, baby."
Oh. +
He...said no to spending time with his family in order to spend time with /him/? So they could take a trip /together/?
God, that's--
So /sweet/, and much more than he ever expected. He doesn't know what to say or even what to /think/, because his chest feels overfull with this+
God, that's--
So /sweet/, and much more than he ever expected. He doesn't know what to say or even what to /think/, because his chest feels overfull with this+
warm, bubbly feeling, so much he can barely breathe without tasting liquid happiness.
All that anger from before is gone, replaced by a giant smile. He's hiding his face in his pillow, even though it's not like anyone is around to see and Dazai can't /hear/ the furious blush on+
All that anger from before is gone, replaced by a giant smile. He's hiding his face in his pillow, even though it's not like anyone is around to see and Dazai can't /hear/ the furious blush on+
his face.
One of the best things about Dazai is he never makes Chuuya feel like he should be ashamed about his inexperience.Whenever he does or thinks something wrong, he just gently corrects him into the right way, and that's /so/ much better than being yelled at, or lectured,+
One of the best things about Dazai is he never makes Chuuya feel like he should be ashamed about his inexperience.Whenever he does or thinks something wrong, he just gently corrects him into the right way, and that's /so/ much better than being yelled at, or lectured,+
or made to feel /guilty/.
It eases some tension he didn't even know he was feeling. Relationships are /hard/, and the confusing, scary mess he had with Shuuji ruined what little confidence he had. Even Dazai can be frightening at times, because of how much older and more+
It eases some tension he didn't even know he was feeling. Relationships are /hard/, and the confusing, scary mess he had with Shuuji ruined what little confidence he had. Even Dazai can be frightening at times, because of how much older and more+
experienced he is.
But the man has gone out of his way /multiple/ times to make sure that Chuuya feels safe and secure with him, and that fear is beginning to fade away. He's even beginning to feel /confident/ again, which sometimes can lead to stupid, thoughtless mistakes like+
But the man has gone out of his way /multiple/ times to make sure that Chuuya feels safe and secure with him, and that fear is beginning to fade away. He's even beginning to feel /confident/ again, which sometimes can lead to stupid, thoughtless mistakes like+
these.
But it's okay,because when Chuuya gives a small, "Oh. Okay," in a tiny, elated voice,it earns him an amused, fond huff of breath from the other side of the phone.
"Okay /what/, lovely? Okay you understand, or okay you want to go on a trip with me?"
"Both," Chuuya says,+
But it's okay,because when Chuuya gives a small, "Oh. Okay," in a tiny, elated voice,it earns him an amused, fond huff of breath from the other side of the phone.
"Okay /what/, lovely? Okay you understand, or okay you want to go on a trip with me?"
"Both," Chuuya says,+
before he actually thinks about it. Then he’s reminded of something, and he winces, wishing he didn’t have to take his words back. “Actually I can’t go on the trip.”
He can practically hear Dazai pouting on the other end as he asks, “why not?”
Chuuya rolls over, wondering how+
He can practically hear Dazai pouting on the other end as he asks, “why not?”
Chuuya rolls over, wondering how+
to put this /lightly/. “I spent too much money on those earrings for dinner at your house, and I’m broke for a while still.”
(Admittedly, Dazai has never really experienced poverty in any aspect.
When he was young, his family was well-off, even if it was borrowed and stolen+
(Admittedly, Dazai has never really experienced poverty in any aspect.
When he was young, his family was well-off, even if it was borrowed and stolen+
from others. It /was/ money, even if it wasn’t rightfully theirs.
When he was with Mori, all his needs were taken care of—by force, if necessary— so Dazai never needed to worry about needing to afford something he wanted or needed.
In fact, he took it as a challenge /multiple/+
When he was with Mori, all his needs were taken care of—by force, if necessary— so Dazai never needed to worry about needing to afford something he wanted or needed.
In fact, he took it as a challenge /multiple/+
times to spend as much money as possible on the worst things he could imagine, just to piss Mori off.
Then, as he grew a little older and realized that Mori’s benevolence towards him was /not/ guaranteed nor permanent—
He started siphoning off cash from the Mafia accounts and+
Then, as he grew a little older and realized that Mori’s benevolence towards him was /not/ guaranteed nor permanent—
He started siphoning off cash from the Mafia accounts and+
creating his own stash. He was careful and smart about it, never drawing too much attention by draining an account too much or using any accounts with his name on it.
By the time he /left/, he’d amassed quite a little treasure store. It kept him afloat when he was having his+
By the time he /left/, he’d amassed quite a little treasure store. It kept him afloat when he was having his+
little mental breakdown/quarter life crisis that he prefers not to even think about, and if he didn’t spend money, it was a choice.
It wasn’t because he didn’t have money to spend.
So the fact that the /beautiful/ little angel of his /does/ have to worry about that, things+
It wasn’t because he didn’t have money to spend.
So the fact that the /beautiful/ little angel of his /does/ have to worry about that, things+
like earrings and outfits and maybe even /food/, breaks his heart.
It also /warms/ his chest because he spent money he didn’t really have so he could look pretty for /Dazai/, and he did. God, he did.
It’s at this moment when Dazai swears he’s going to spoil the /hell/ out of+
It also /warms/ his chest because he spent money he didn’t really have so he could look pretty for /Dazai/, and he did. God, he did.
It’s at this moment when Dazai swears he’s going to spoil the /hell/ out of+
the chibi. It’s final. The decision has been made, and Chuuya can’t make him change his mind.)
It’s quiet for so long that Chuuya shifts awkwardly in bed, wishing they weren’t /ruminating/ in the revelation that he is, in fact, not well-off.
He wouldn’t say /poor/, because he+
It’s quiet for so long that Chuuya shifts awkwardly in bed, wishing they weren’t /ruminating/ in the revelation that he is, in fact, not well-off.
He wouldn’t say /poor/, because he+
has seen what /actual/ poverty looks like, and he’s actually pretty privileged himself. He’s at one of the top universities of the country, for fucks sake.
He just can’t afford to go on a ‘little trip’ for a week whenever he feels like it.
“Chuuya, I wouldn’t invite you if+
He just can’t afford to go on a ‘little trip’ for a week whenever he feels like it.
“Chuuya, I wouldn’t invite you if+
I wasn't going to pay for it all. You don't have to worry about /that/, not ever," Dazai says, voice filled with something fervent.
And well--
Chuuya /is/ getting better at the whole accepting gifts thing. It used to make him feel really guilty, because his only frame of +
And well--
Chuuya /is/ getting better at the whole accepting gifts thing. It used to make him feel really guilty, because his only frame of +
reference with relationships were with people near his own financial status. Maybe a little better off, maybe a little worse--
But still, not many of his friends from before could often afford to drop money on whatever they wanted. They had allowances, and budgets.
Shuuji +
But still, not many of his friends from before could often afford to drop money on whatever they wanted. They had allowances, and budgets.
Shuuji +
obviously didn't have such restrictions, but somehow whatever money and effort he spent felt like it cost Chuuya /emotionally/. Like he was counting every penny, and would demand something in repayment later.
The thought was exhausting and anxiety-inducing.
But he remembers +
The thought was exhausting and anxiety-inducing.
But he remembers +
the way Dazai's face lit up when he accepted the leather jacket, and when he saw him wearing the choker the other day...
And you know? A trip /does/ sound fun, and he certainly deserves it after all his hard work this semester, and how much of an emotional rollercoaster it was.+
And you know? A trip /does/ sound fun, and he certainly deserves it after all his hard work this semester, and how much of an emotional rollercoaster it was.+
"Then /yes/, I'd love to. Where are we going?"
He can /hear/ the happiness in Dazai's voice this time. "Osaka. The rest is a surprise."
A /surprise/? Chuuya /loves/ surprises, especially ones that involve travel.
"What should I bring?"
There's a thoughtful hum from the+
He can /hear/ the happiness in Dazai's voice this time. "Osaka. The rest is a surprise."
A /surprise/? Chuuya /loves/ surprises, especially ones that involve travel.
"What should I bring?"
There's a thoughtful hum from the+
other end of the line, punctuated by a few clicks of what sound like keys on a computer.
Then a pleased sigh, "Nothing, baby. Just bring your beautiful self, and I'll take care of the rest."
------ +
Oda has brewed her tea.
Which isn't unusual, he's a /very/ thoughtful man+
Then a pleased sigh, "Nothing, baby. Just bring your beautiful self, and I'll take care of the rest."
------ +
Oda has brewed her tea.
Which isn't unusual, he's a /very/ thoughtful man+
and Kouyou barely has to frown at her paperwork before a cup of lavender or chamomile is appearing at her elbow.
He /says/ it's because he's her bodyguard and so he is /obligated/ to taste-test all her food and drink before it gets into her hands, and making it is easier than +
He /says/ it's because he's her bodyguard and so he is /obligated/ to taste-test all her food and drink before it gets into her hands, and making it is easier than +
testing whatever someone else makes her.
Really, Kouyou doesn't understand why the man tries to hide that he /loves/ to cook for her, but she supposes it's just her duty to play along with the charade.
This time would be no different, except for a few key things:
One, it's +
Really, Kouyou doesn't understand why the man tries to hide that he /loves/ to cook for her, but she supposes it's just her duty to play along with the charade.
This time would be no different, except for a few key things:
One, it's +
been an easy day. Mostly ensuring that the next shipment of product is coming in on time, and her people are ready to receive and distribute it.
There was even a lovely walk along the pier involved, something that happens all too rarely these days. She's usually stuck in her +
There was even a lovely walk along the pier involved, something that happens all too rarely these days. She's usually stuck in her +
office all day, signing off on paperwork and corralling her executives like a bunch of unruly children.
(To be honest, she prefers /actual/ children more. Sakura is a darling.)
Two, this tea is not chamomile or lavender, or even a more expensive and time-consuming oolong tea.+
(To be honest, she prefers /actual/ children more. Sakura is a darling.)
Two, this tea is not chamomile or lavender, or even a more expensive and time-consuming oolong tea.+
No, /this/ tea is Gyokuro, one of the most expensive green teas she has in her collection. It's brewed just the way she likes it, just a /hair/ underneath the recommended temperature, so she can appreciate the full flavor of the tea.
In simpler words--
It is a /bribe/. +
In simpler words--
It is a /bribe/. +
The question is, what /for/?
Oda hasn't done anything to get himself in trouble for quite a while--unless he /has/ and she doesn't know about it, and this is just a pre-emptive way to head off her anger--and most of the things he would need from /her/ are either bedroom related+
Oda hasn't done anything to get himself in trouble for quite a while--unless he /has/ and she doesn't know about it, and this is just a pre-emptive way to head off her anger--and most of the things he would need from /her/ are either bedroom related+
or something to do with the /business/.
The first one,he doesn't need to bribe her, he merely needs to /ask/.
And the second, well.There's no telling what that could be.
She allows herself a small sip of the tea, breathing in the aroma indulgently. It's crisp, clean, smelling+
The first one,he doesn't need to bribe her, he merely needs to /ask/.
And the second, well.There's no telling what that could be.
She allows herself a small sip of the tea, breathing in the aroma indulgently. It's crisp, clean, smelling+
like plants and sunlight.
"Sakunosuke," she murmurs after a moment, catching her guard's attention.
Oda is sitting in a chair three spots down on the long conference table. He's been keeping himself busy by methodically going through all his weapons, dismantling them and +
"Sakunosuke," she murmurs after a moment, catching her guard's attention.
Oda is sitting in a chair three spots down on the long conference table. He's been keeping himself busy by methodically going through all his weapons, dismantling them and +
cleaning them meticulously before carefully putting them back together.
It's a fascinating process to watch, the quiet concentration on his face as his hands move over the weapons without hesitation. It looks almost like he's meditating, approaching peaceful, even though the +
It's a fascinating process to watch, the quiet concentration on his face as his hands move over the weapons without hesitation. It looks almost like he's meditating, approaching peaceful, even though the +
tools in his hands are lethal.
It's the same strange dichotomy that Sakunosuke /always/ has, at home in the most dangerous places in Yokohama, peaceful in the middle of a battlefield.
Oda hums in question, holding up one of his pistols to check the sight on it. It's half-+
It's the same strange dichotomy that Sakunosuke /always/ has, at home in the most dangerous places in Yokohama, peaceful in the middle of a battlefield.
Oda hums in question, holding up one of his pistols to check the sight on it. It's half-+
assembled, shiny with whatever cleaning agent Oda had been using on it.
(Kouyou /does/ have to admit that seeing Oda in just his white button down and gun holsters hanging over his shoulders and underneath each arm as he works is a /pleasant/ sight, especially with the rolled +
(Kouyou /does/ have to admit that seeing Oda in just his white button down and gun holsters hanging over his shoulders and underneath each arm as he works is a /pleasant/ sight, especially with the rolled +
up sleeves and the way the muscles flex in his forearms with every sure movement of his fingers.)
"What do you want?"
That gets Oda's full attention, turning his head to look at her. The gun is placed on the table and is replaced for the next part needed for assembly. Taking a+
"What do you want?"
That gets Oda's full attention, turning his head to look at her. The gun is placed on the table and is replaced for the next part needed for assembly. Taking a+
dirty rag, the same one he'd used for most of the other pieces, he starts to give the metal a thorough wipedown. "What makes you think I want something, love?"
Kouyou takes a loud, pointed sip of her tea, eyes unwavering on his face.
Oda's mouth tips up into a lopsided smile. +
Kouyou takes a loud, pointed sip of her tea, eyes unwavering on his face.
Oda's mouth tips up into a lopsided smile. +
The face of a man who's been /caught/.
He is, at least,smart enough not to beat around the bush. Being direct has always been his most favorable treat. "Dazai wants a meeting."
That makes her scowl. Truly,she has little reason to loathe the man as much as she does, considering+
He is, at least,smart enough not to beat around the bush. Being direct has always been his most favorable treat. "Dazai wants a meeting."
That makes her scowl. Truly,she has little reason to loathe the man as much as she does, considering+
she's never actually /met/ him. She's heard /plenty/ about him though, from Oda and Yosano--who mean well, of course, and Kouyou never begrudges them talking about their friend-- and from a few of her executives who think that /Dazai/ is the rightful heir to the Mafia.
To them+
To them+
she's just a glorified seat warmer until the /real/ king comes home and claims his throne.
It boils her blood like no other, especially because she has scraped and clawed her way to the top since she was /16/. She's earned her position, with bloody hands and quick thinking. +
It boils her blood like no other, especially because she has scraped and clawed her way to the top since she was /16/. She's earned her position, with bloody hands and quick thinking. +
She's heard all the stories about Dazai, practically grew up on them. Yosano and Oda have given her a more in-depth look at who he is with insider details, but they all boil down to the same concepts:
Dazai is a ruthless, cunning, /savage/ of a man, and if he wanted her +
Dazai is a ruthless, cunning, /savage/ of a man, and if he wanted her +
seat?
Nothing could stop him. Not Oda, not Yosano, not herself.
Granted, she is aware that it has been over a decade since he left the mafia, and he has shown no interest in returning. Their interactions are brief, information for information, or buying him off when he +
Nothing could stop him. Not Oda, not Yosano, not herself.
Granted, she is aware that it has been over a decade since he left the mafia, and he has shown no interest in returning. Their interactions are brief, information for information, or buying him off when he +
makes noises about selling /their/ information to some other clan.
Dazai Osamu exists in a grey area. He is technically not an ally to the mafia, nor is he necessarily an enemy. Just like he is not /technically/ an alley to Kouyou, but neither is he exactly her enemy.
It's +
Dazai Osamu exists in a grey area. He is technically not an ally to the mafia, nor is he necessarily an enemy. Just like he is not /technically/ an alley to Kouyou, but neither is he exactly her enemy.
It's +
a cowards choice,she knows, to ignore him in the hopes that he'll eventually get the hint and stop asking to meet with her--
But there's something about looking in the face of a predator that could and /might/ pin and kill you at any given moment, that makes you want to /hide/.+
But there's something about looking in the face of a predator that could and /might/ pin and kill you at any given moment, that makes you want to /hide/.+
"You know I don't like discussing him, Sakunosuke," she sniffs, "it gives the executives the wrong idea."
Oda sighs, exchanging his cloth for a smaller wire-brush tool. "We're the only ones here," he reminds her, "and I don't think that refusing to acknowledge him makes your +
Oda sighs, exchanging his cloth for a smaller wire-brush tool. "We're the only ones here," he reminds her, "and I don't think that refusing to acknowledge him makes your +
position any stronger. It makes you look like you're scared of him."
"I do /not/ fear him," she snaps, irritated.
This is not technically a lie. She does not fear Dazai himself, but rather what he could /do/.
Oda looks at her with something like understanding, but she cuts +
"I do /not/ fear him," she snaps, irritated.
This is not technically a lie. She does not fear Dazai himself, but rather what he could /do/.
Oda looks at her with something like understanding, but she cuts +
him off before he can say anything. "What does he want?"
"He said he wants to discuss what the Rats are up to. Said he has some information the Mafia probably doesn't have access to."
That is not very surprising. The Rats have been an increasingly annoying presence as of late.+
"He said he wants to discuss what the Rats are up to. Said he has some information the Mafia probably doesn't have access to."
That is not very surprising. The Rats have been an increasingly annoying presence as of late.+
Always on the port, making their presence known in the shipping yard. There's been a /few/ times her subordinates have caught them on their territory.
The Rats haven't caused any problems /yet/, always being very respectful and melting away as soon as they notice the Mafia. But+
The Rats haven't caused any problems /yet/, always being very respectful and melting away as soon as they notice the Mafia. But+
their numbers are growing, and tensions are rising.
/Still/, awfully convenient that Dazai is offering help now, when he's been offering her cutthroat deals for the last two years. "I find it hard to believe that his intentions are honorable or to be helpful to the Mafia."+
/Still/, awfully convenient that Dazai is offering help now, when he's been offering her cutthroat deals for the last two years. "I find it hard to believe that his intentions are honorable or to be helpful to the Mafia."+
This makes Oda sigh, adding the newly cleaned piece to his half-assembled gun with a metallic click. His expression doesn't visibly change, but his emotions have always been more detectable in his voice. His tone now is almost somber as he says, "You judge him too harshly, +
sometimes. He didn't choose this life. He's making the best of what he has, and he's not... he's not an /evil/ man."
The green tea is not as relaxing as it usually is. In fact, it's starting to sour on her tongue. "No one /chooses/ to join the Mafia."
Oda looks up at her then,+
The green tea is not as relaxing as it usually is. In fact, it's starting to sour on her tongue. "No one /chooses/ to join the Mafia."
Oda looks up at her then,+
and his eyes are always so piercing. They seem to see straight into her soul, straight into the heart of the matter. It's hard to hide /anything/ from him, because he always sees /through/ everything.
"You did."
She falls silent. That is true, mostly. She did /choose/ to join+
"You did."
She falls silent. That is true, mostly. She did /choose/ to join+
the mafia, but in her defense—
It didn’t /feel/ like a choice, back then.
She was only sixteen, so lost and confused. She didn’t know who she was, who she wanted to be, how to do most of the things that the other girls in her classes knew how to do.
And she was so /angry/.+
It didn’t /feel/ like a choice, back then.
She was only sixteen, so lost and confused. She didn’t know who she was, who she wanted to be, how to do most of the things that the other girls in her classes knew how to do.
And she was so /angry/.+
All the time. Filled with roiling, frothing /rage/ that she didn’t know how to contain or how to handle it.
At school, there were girls who snickered at her when she confessed that she didn’t know how to do a braid in her hair.
And at home—
There was a snot-nosed, needy, +
At school, there were girls who snickered at her when she confessed that she didn’t know how to do a braid in her hair.
And at home—
There was a snot-nosed, needy, +
/annoying/ little brother that /killed/ her mother.
(She will regret thinking that, later on in life, but when she was younger, she didn’t know what else to /think/.
All she knew is that her pregnant mother went to the hospital and /never/ returned.)
And he was so /sick/+
(She will regret thinking that, later on in life, but when she was younger, she didn’t know what else to /think/.
All she knew is that her pregnant mother went to the hospital and /never/ returned.)
And he was so /sick/+
all the time back then, the consequences of being born too early. Rimbaud was always fussing over him, fretting over if he was too hot or too cold, or if he’d eaten not enough or too much, if that single cough was a sign of him falling sick again.
Kouyou is the eldest, and +
Kouyou is the eldest, and +
a lot of the responsibilities fell to her. It was unfair, and her father did the best he could—
But there were three of them, to only one parent. A parent that worked nearly every day, and then stayed up most of the night making sure her sick little brother didn’t choke in his+
But there were three of them, to only one parent. A parent that worked nearly every day, and then stayed up most of the night making sure her sick little brother didn’t choke in his+
sleep.
She cooked. She cleaned. Made sure Kyouka did her homework, and Chuuya got his daily medicines even though he always bit her fingers like a spoiled brat. Cleaned again, because Chuuya was /messy/.
Sometimes he did it for /attention/ too, because Kouyou /hated/ him and+
She cooked. She cleaned. Made sure Kyouka did her homework, and Chuuya got his daily medicines even though he always bit her fingers like a spoiled brat. Cleaned again, because Chuuya was /messy/.
Sometimes he did it for /attention/ too, because Kouyou /hated/ him and+
refused to spend more time than necessary with him, so when he was being /bratty/ again, he’d knock over all the toys in the living room. They’d clean them up together, Kouyou silently fuming while Chuuya got continually got distracted by the toys he was /supposed/ to be putting+
away.
Back then, she’d thought of it as him being /spoiled/. He didn’t get /enough/ attention from father, so he needed to get more from her as well.
(Meanwhile, Chuuya was always so lost and confused on why no one wanted to /play/ with him.
Dad said he was sick a lot and+
Back then, she’d thought of it as him being /spoiled/. He didn’t get /enough/ attention from father, so he needed to get more from her as well.
(Meanwhile, Chuuya was always so lost and confused on why no one wanted to /play/ with him.
Dad said he was sick a lot and+
couldn’t do what the other kids did. Maybe that made him bad at playing?
But even when he /swore/ he was feeling good and took all his medicines and promised to learn the games so he could play them, and he wouldn’t cheat, not /once/—
His sisters still didn’t play with him.+
But even when he /swore/ he was feeling good and took all his medicines and promised to learn the games so he could play them, and he wouldn’t cheat, not /once/—
His sisters still didn’t play with him.+
Kyouka was always reading or coloring or playing on the computer with the pet bunny that was somehow stuck in the screen. She let him join her without complaint, always sharing her crayons, but it got /boring/ after a while.
And Kouyou was /so/ cool. She was big and tall and+
And Kouyou was /so/ cool. She was big and tall and+
she knew /everything/, and she /had/ to know really cool games!
But she never let him play with her and she always told him to go to bed. She never let him watch movies on her phone with her, or built pillow forts or played tag or /anything/.
And so Chuuya came up with his +
But she never let him play with her and she always told him to go to bed. She never let him watch movies on her phone with her, or built pillow forts or played tag or /anything/.
And so Chuuya came up with his +
own game. It was a bad game, and he wasn’t good at it and Kouyou /hated/ it, but she always played.
‘How fast can you pick up all the toys?’)
With every meal Kouyou cooked and homework assignment she helped with, every late bedtime and dropped grade because she didn’t have +
‘How fast can you pick up all the toys?’)
With every meal Kouyou cooked and homework assignment she helped with, every late bedtime and dropped grade because she didn’t have +
time to finish her /own/ homework, she got /angrier/.
Because it wasn’t /fair/.
She never wanted a brother. She didn’t /need/ a stupid little brother—
She needed a /mother/. She needed someone to teach her how to braid her hair and how to put on makeup and how to walk in+
Because it wasn’t /fair/.
She never wanted a brother. She didn’t /need/ a stupid little brother—
She needed a /mother/. She needed someone to teach her how to braid her hair and how to put on makeup and how to walk in+
tall shoes.
She needed someone to tell her why her chest started to hurt all the time, and to tell her it was okay and no, she wasn’t /dying/ when she bled between the legs for the first time.
Of the three of them, her father always said that Chuuya inherited their mother’s+
She needed someone to tell her why her chest started to hurt all the time, and to tell her it was okay and no, she wasn’t /dying/ when she bled between the legs for the first time.
Of the three of them, her father always said that Chuuya inherited their mother’s+
strength and bravery, and Kyouka got her intelligence.
Kouyou got her /temper/.
And it must be true, because she remembers long nights sobbing silently in bed, praying for /any/ god to hear her and give her her mother back.
She’d give anything, /do/ anything. She’d ace her+
Kouyou got her /temper/.
And it must be true, because she remembers long nights sobbing silently in bed, praying for /any/ god to hear her and give her her mother back.
She’d give anything, /do/ anything. She’d ace her+
next quiz, do all the chores without complaint. She’d give up her favorite stuffed animal, and her phone and her brother, /whatever/.
/ Please, I just want my mommy! /
There was a time when Chuuya was seven, and his winter cold had turned into a nasty case of pneumonia.+
/ Please, I just want my mommy! /
There was a time when Chuuya was seven, and his winter cold had turned into a nasty case of pneumonia.+
She remembers standing over him, sleeping and pale on the hospital bed while hooked up to various tubes and wires—
And thinking with such visceral /hatred/ that it suprised even her—
/ I hope you die. All you do is cause trouble and pain, and I hope you die. / +
And thinking with such visceral /hatred/ that it suprised even her—
/ I hope you die. All you do is cause trouble and pain, and I hope you die. / +
And then, like she called it into existence—
He almost /did/.
Apparently his lungs were filled up with so much fluid that his oxygen levels dropped severely. He wasn’t responding quickly to antibiotics and he kept dropping weight.
He looked like a skeleton. At one point, he+
He almost /did/.
Apparently his lungs were filled up with so much fluid that his oxygen levels dropped severely. He wasn’t responding quickly to antibiotics and he kept dropping weight.
He looked like a skeleton. At one point, he+
even had a /seizure/.
And that’s when she realized that this was /serious/. It wasn’t like all those other times where it looked bad but he came back eventually.
He could actually /die/ here, and she had wished for it to happen.
It was terrifying.
As she stared at her +
And that’s when she realized that this was /serious/. It wasn’t like all those other times where it looked bad but he came back eventually.
He could actually /die/ here, and she had wished for it to happen.
It was terrifying.
As she stared at her +
brother wasting away on the hospital bed with nurses hovering over him, a mask over his face and an IV in his hand, she realizes—
She doesn’t hate him. He’s annoying and what happened to them was unfair but—
She, at least, /had/ a mother. Even if she lost her too soon, she +
She doesn’t hate him. He’s annoying and what happened to them was unfair but—
She, at least, /had/ a mother. Even if she lost her too soon, she +
still has pictures of them together and videos.
She can still remember her voice, singing her lullabies to help her sleep. She remembers taking a /long/ hike with her, and being piggy-backed the entire time while Kouyou fawned over the plants and trees.
She had a mother.
+
She can still remember her voice, singing her lullabies to help her sleep. She remembers taking a /long/ hike with her, and being piggy-backed the entire time while Kouyou fawned over the plants and trees.
She had a mother.
+
But Chuuya?
He never has. He’s never been rocked to sleep by her, or taken pictures with her, or played in the sprinkler in the yard with her.
He’s never known her. All he’s ever known is a fretting father and a spiteful sister.
All that time she was thinking about how +
He never has. He’s never been rocked to sleep by her, or taken pictures with her, or played in the sprinkler in the yard with her.
He’s never known her. All he’s ever known is a fretting father and a spiteful sister.
All that time she was thinking about how +
unfair it was to /her/, and never once considered how unfair she was being to /him/.
That night, she goes from wishing Chuuya would disappear or /die/—
To /begging/ him to be okay, promising to play with him and teach him how to play cards, and promising to be a good big +
That night, she goes from wishing Chuuya would disappear or /die/—
To /begging/ him to be okay, promising to play with him and teach him how to play cards, and promising to be a good big +
sister to him, always.
Her life wouldn’t be the same without the shrieking laughter he makes as he chases the cat around the house playfully, or the messy kiss on her cheek as he goes to bed.
/ Love you, ane-san. /
He does get better again, and she feels /so/ relieved.+
Her life wouldn’t be the same without the shrieking laughter he makes as he chases the cat around the house playfully, or the messy kiss on her cheek as he goes to bed.
/ Love you, ane-san. /
He does get better again, and she feels /so/ relieved.+
Of course, it’s not all rainbows and roses after that. Chuuya is a /menace/ and always gets into her stuff and eats the food she was saving for herself and plays a little too rough.
But what else are little brothers for?
Though, that doesn’t solve the right ball of +
But what else are little brothers for?
Though, that doesn’t solve the right ball of +
anger-injustice-confusion in her chest, and it doesn’t make it any /easier/.
By the time she’s fifteen, in high school in the lowest classes— not because she isn’t /smart/, but because she doesn’t always have the time to take care of her siblings and herself— she’s made some...+
By the time she’s fifteen, in high school in the lowest classes— not because she isn’t /smart/, but because she doesn’t always have the time to take care of her siblings and herself— she’s made some...+
/shady/ friends.
They show her the secret alleyways in Tsubaka, show her underground clubs that she’s too young to legally get into. They meet even /shadier/ people with sleeves of tattoos and cutthroat attitudes and sharp, welcoming smiles.
One thing led to another led to +
They show her the secret alleyways in Tsubaka, show her underground clubs that she’s too young to legally get into. They meet even /shadier/ people with sleeves of tattoos and cutthroat attitudes and sharp, welcoming smiles.
One thing led to another led to +
another and well—
Here she is, a little over eight years later, sitting on the dragon chair.
She wasn’t born into the Yakuza, wasn’t bred for it, wasn’t kidnapped or forced into it. She was asked one day, and she was angry enough, /rebellious/ enough against her strict +
Here she is, a little over eight years later, sitting on the dragon chair.
She wasn’t born into the Yakuza, wasn’t bred for it, wasn’t kidnapped or forced into it. She was asked one day, and she was angry enough, /rebellious/ enough against her strict +
upbringing that she barely even /hesitated/ before saying yes.
So yes, it /was/ a choice.
But it was a choice she never would’ve made, if she’d had her mother to guide her.
She doesn’t regret her life, but she would not have chosen this path for herself under different +
So yes, it /was/ a choice.
But it was a choice she never would’ve made, if she’d had her mother to guide her.
She doesn’t regret her life, but she would not have chosen this path for herself under different +
circumstances.
Maybe she'd be like Chuuya. Go to college, get a normal boyfriend, live a /normal/ life.
She closes her eyes, suddenly weighed down by exhaustion. She's only 24,but sometimes she feels thrice that. "I know, Sakunosuke."
Maybe he had a point, though. Hiding like+
Maybe she'd be like Chuuya. Go to college, get a normal boyfriend, live a /normal/ life.
She closes her eyes, suddenly weighed down by exhaustion. She's only 24,but sometimes she feels thrice that. "I know, Sakunosuke."
Maybe he had a point, though. Hiding like+
a little girl under her blankets from an old legend. Dazai had already been long gone when she had joined the Mafia, and Oda and Yosano have only spoken fondly of him.
As fondly as Yakuza members /get/, anyways.
Dazai is terrifying in theory, and she won't forget the things +
As fondly as Yakuza members /get/, anyways.
Dazai is terrifying in theory, and she won't forget the things +
he's reportedly done but--
Perhaps she has fallen into old habits, and treated him unfairly. The man has had plenty of opportunity to take the Mafia from her, and he hasn't.
Perhaps it is time to trust in Sakunosuke's word.
"Alright," she sighs, waving her hand. "Call him."+
Perhaps she has fallen into old habits, and treated him unfairly. The man has had plenty of opportunity to take the Mafia from her, and he hasn't.
Perhaps it is time to trust in Sakunosuke's word.
"Alright," she sighs, waving her hand. "Call him."+
(For the record, this is the absolute /worst/ time to call Dazai.He /just/ got off the phone with Fyodor, and conversing with the Russian always leaves him with something dark slithering up his spine.
It's like playing chess, except the person you're playing with is the darker,+
It's like playing chess, except the person you're playing with is the darker,+
mirror version of yourself. What you /could've/ been, if you were just a little...
Off.
The man in the mirror has your smile and your eyes -- but it is not /you/.
Every word has double, triple meanings, subtle references and insults and /hints/ scattered throughout. Nothing+
Off.
The man in the mirror has your smile and your eyes -- but it is not /you/.
Every word has double, triple meanings, subtle references and insults and /hints/ scattered throughout. Nothing+
said is what it means and what is meant is never said, and it's--
It's like dealing with Mori again, almost. All mind-games and tricks. It's like dealing with /himself/ when he was the demon prodigy.
It's like stepping into a tar pit, and the abyss is /hungry/.
It always +
It's like dealing with Mori again, almost. All mind-games and tricks. It's like dealing with /himself/ when he was the demon prodigy.
It's like stepping into a tar pit, and the abyss is /hungry/.
It always +
leaves him feeling drained. Strung out, somehow, his head too full and aching. It feels like he's just gotten out of an ice bath, and every sensation is so raw it burns.
So when he sees Odasaku's name on his phone, he /almost/ smiles. Almost rejects the call too, because he +
So when he sees Odasaku's name on his phone, he /almost/ smiles. Almost rejects the call too, because he +
does /not/ want to talk right now.
He wants to go to sleep. Or maybe for a run, to clear up this jittery energy. Maybe call and talk to the chibi again, just to listen to him ramble.
But it's late, and Chuuya is asleep so--
He answers.
This is a mistake.)
The phone rings+
He wants to go to sleep. Or maybe for a run, to clear up this jittery energy. Maybe call and talk to the chibi again, just to listen to him ramble.
But it's late, and Chuuya is asleep so--
He answers.
This is a mistake.)
The phone rings+
twice before it's answered with a cheery, "Hi, Odasaku~!"
There's a note in it that feels forced, like Dazai isn't as happy as it sounds, but that's none of her business. Oda looks at Kouyou, raising his brow in silent question. Should he speak first, or should she?
She clears+
There's a note in it that feels forced, like Dazai isn't as happy as it sounds, but that's none of her business. Oda looks at Kouyou, raising his brow in silent question. Should he speak first, or should she?
She clears+
her throat, aiming for the firm, unquestionable tone she takes with her executives. "Hello, Dazai."
There's a moment of silence from the other end of the line, something that feels tense and predatory.
"Oh," Dazai drawls, condescending. "Is that the princess I hear? Finally +
There's a moment of silence from the other end of the line, something that feels tense and predatory.
"Oh," Dazai drawls, condescending. "Is that the princess I hear? Finally +
come down from her tower to face the dragon?"
Her spine stiffens with offense, and even Oda looks a bit nervous. Dazai has always been infamous for his sharp tongue, but she expected a little /respect/.
Apparently, that expectation was too high. "I am no princess, and you are+
Her spine stiffens with offense, and even Oda looks a bit nervous. Dazai has always been infamous for his sharp tongue, but she expected a little /respect/.
Apparently, that expectation was too high. "I am no princess, and you are+
no dragon.”
She can almost /see/ the sneer that rises on his face.
“So you say,” Dazai says, and continues in an abrupt tone, “what can I help you with?”
She does /not/ like the way he’s speaking to her, her hackles rising. They’ve talked directly only a handful of times and+
She can almost /see/ the sneer that rises on his face.
“So you say,” Dazai says, and continues in an abrupt tone, “what can I help you with?”
She does /not/ like the way he’s speaking to her, her hackles rising. They’ve talked directly only a handful of times and+
each of /those/ times, he was respectful. A bit condescending, which seemed par for the course, but nothing so cold and arrogant as /this/.
“I was told you requested a meeting. I can meet with you on the 16th.”
Dazai laughs, sharp and short. “How generous of you. Unfortunately+
“I was told you requested a meeting. I can meet with you on the 16th.”
Dazai laughs, sharp and short. “How generous of you. Unfortunately+
I will be out of town on personal business. It will have to be another day.”
For someone who has been hounding her for /months/ about meeting with her, he sure isn’t jumping at the chance she offers. “Personal business? Surely, it can be rescheduled—.”
He cuts her off, and+
For someone who has been hounding her for /months/ about meeting with her, he sure isn’t jumping at the chance she offers. “Personal business? Surely, it can be rescheduled—.”
He cuts her off, and+
this is when the situation takes a turn for the /worse/. “Do you really expect me to rearrange /my/ schedule when you have been blowing me off for weeks?”
Oda’s mouth opens, probably to say something in her defense. He’s silenced by a sharp glare. Kouyou can handle herself. +
Oda’s mouth opens, probably to say something in her defense. He’s silenced by a sharp glare. Kouyou can handle herself. +
“/You/ wanted to meet with /me/, as I recall.”
The noise Dazai makes is too sharp to be laughter, abrupt and angry. “You’re right. I /wanted/ to meet with you. Now, I’ve decided I /don’t care/. If you want to sit up in your tower and /ignore/ what goes on around you so you+
The noise Dazai makes is too sharp to be laughter, abrupt and angry. “You’re right. I /wanted/ to meet with you. Now, I’ve decided I /don’t care/. If you want to sit up in your tower and /ignore/ what goes on around you so you+
can hold onto the illusion that you will never be threatened or questioned— be my guest.”
The anger she used to feel, the one that feels like dragon fire licking at her bones, begins to stir in her chest. “I am not /hiding/. You do not know what it /takes/ to control the +
The anger she used to feel, the one that feels like dragon fire licking at her bones, begins to stir in her chest. “I am not /hiding/. You do not know what it /takes/ to control the +
the mafia. How to handle the city.”
This time it /is/ a laugh that rips from Dazai’s chest, but it’s cold and cutting. “I /built/ that throne that you sit on. These streets ran red with the blood that /I/ spilled for the mafia, /long/ before you even knew about the Yakuza. +
This time it /is/ a laugh that rips from Dazai’s chest, but it’s cold and cutting. “I /built/ that throne that you sit on. These streets ran red with the blood that /I/ spilled for the mafia, /long/ before you even knew about the Yakuza. +
There is only /one/ person who doesn’t understand how to rule, and it /isn’t/ me. You are so afraid of me coming to take your chair that you refuse to see the people who are taking the /city/ right from underneath your nose—,”
“/Dazai,” Oda snaps, cutting him off, voice full of+
“/Dazai,” Oda snaps, cutting him off, voice full of+
reprimand. Dazai falls silent with another short, frustrated noise.
Kouyou sits on the other side of the table, silently fuming. /This/ is the problem with Dazai Osamu. It isn’t necessarily that he is technically the rightful heir—
It’s that he always makes her feel so +
Kouyou sits on the other side of the table, silently fuming. /This/ is the problem with Dazai Osamu. It isn’t necessarily that he is technically the rightful heir—
It’s that he always makes her feel so +
stupid and /young/. Even in the stories Oda and Yosano tell, the fond recollections of 'do you remember when Osamu did this totally stupid thing that was actually wickedly smart and ended up working out for everyone?'.
Even in the stories, Kouyou can /never/ measure up to him.+
Even in the stories, Kouyou can /never/ measure up to him.+
It makes her feel /so/ worthless,because she clawed her way up to the top with years of hard work and ruthlessness--
And she pales in comparison to a /child/ that ran the mafia, over a decade ago.
The tense silence is broken with a sigh from the phone. Dazai sounds less angry+
And she pales in comparison to a /child/ that ran the mafia, over a decade ago.
The tense silence is broken with a sigh from the phone. Dazai sounds less angry+
this time and more... just /done/, with everything. "You should know something, Kouyou. Information sells well to either side, and twice as well in a war. You should secure your allies while you still can. If you decide you want to know what information I have, and how I can+
help, you know how to contact me.”
Then he hangs up without another word, leaving Oda and Kouyou hanging in the silence that follows.
Eventually, Oda speaks up, voice quiet like he’s trying to avoid setting off a bomb. “He’s not usually like that—.”
Kouyou silences him with a+
Then he hangs up without another word, leaving Oda and Kouyou hanging in the silence that follows.
Eventually, Oda speaks up, voice quiet like he’s trying to avoid setting off a bomb. “He’s not usually like that—.”
Kouyou silences him with a+
withering glare. She doesn’t care for excuses, or reasons. “Don’t ask me to meet with him again.”
Oda nods lightly, looking chastised.
(Admittedly, Dazai /does/ feel bad about saying all that. While it might be /true/, there was no need for him to say it.
But right now he+
Oda nods lightly, looking chastised.
(Admittedly, Dazai /does/ feel bad about saying all that. While it might be /true/, there was no need for him to say it.
But right now he+
doesn’t /feel/ like Dazai.
He feels like the demon prodigy, sharp eyes and sharper tongue. He can almost feel Mori’s breath on the back of his neck, and his office in the dark /almost/ looks like Mori’s office.
And the demon prodigy only knew /one/ way to deal with the +
He feels like the demon prodigy, sharp eyes and sharper tongue. He can almost feel Mori’s breath on the back of his neck, and his office in the dark /almost/ looks like Mori’s office.
And the demon prodigy only knew /one/ way to deal with the +
frothing wrath and agony and confusion inside him—
To sink his teeth in and /bite/, making sure everyone else around him was bleeding too. At least he wouldn’t be alone then.
He will regret being so harsh, in a few months. If he had been thinking instead of /reacting/, he +
To sink his teeth in and /bite/, making sure everyone else around him was bleeding too. At least he wouldn’t be alone then.
He will regret being so harsh, in a few months. If he had been thinking instead of /reacting/, he +
could’ve secured an alliance of sorts between him and Kouyou.
And if he had /done/ that, he could’ve prevented Chuuya getting—
Well. He could’ve prevented a lot of things.
But he didn’t, and it doesn’t occur to him /now/ what mistake he’s made.
For now, he paces. He does+
And if he had /done/ that, he could’ve prevented Chuuya getting—
Well. He could’ve prevented a lot of things.
But he didn’t, and it doesn’t occur to him /now/ what mistake he’s made.
For now, he paces. He does+
not sleep.)
——— +
The idea of going somewhere, /anywhere/, without packing is just...
Strange.
Dazai said ‘bring nothing’ but does that not include his clothes? A phone charger? Toothbrush? Underwear?
Is he really supposed to bring ‘nothing’ or was that some sort of +
——— +
The idea of going somewhere, /anywhere/, without packing is just...
Strange.
Dazai said ‘bring nothing’ but does that not include his clothes? A phone charger? Toothbrush? Underwear?
Is he really supposed to bring ‘nothing’ or was that some sort of +
code for like...
Bring only the essentials? Bring only what he wanted to bring? Don't bring a lot of stuff but bring /some/ stuff?
Honestly, Chuuya gets so tired running in circles around the damn question that he ends up emptying his backpack in a fit of frustration. He +
Bring only the essentials? Bring only what he wanted to bring? Don't bring a lot of stuff but bring /some/ stuff?
Honestly, Chuuya gets so tired running in circles around the damn question that he ends up emptying his backpack in a fit of frustration. He +
shoves an extra change of clothes in there, as well as his phone charger, his toiletries, his make-up, the book he's reading.
It still feels like so /little/, and his father's advice about not packing well enough is ringing in his ears but--
He did say /nothing/. Chuuya will +
It still feels like so /little/, and his father's advice about not packing well enough is ringing in his ears but--
He did say /nothing/. Chuuya will +
look stupid if he shows up with an entire suitcase--not that he actually /has/ a suitcase-- when Dazai isn't expecting it.
(He'll also look stupid if he shows up with /nothing/ and that's not what Dazai meant, so he thinks the backpack is a nice compromise.)
Then there's +
(He'll also look stupid if he shows up with /nothing/ and that's not what Dazai meant, so he thinks the backpack is a nice compromise.)
Then there's +
nothing left to do but /wait/. Which is a lot of waiting, because he really doesn't have much to do now that he's on break. He signs up for his classes next semester--another six classes, because he apparently hates himself-- and does some preliminary studying to be prepared, +
but there's really nothing else to do.
He hangs out with Yuan and Nikolai a few times-- Shuuji has already left to Kyoto, with a series of tongue emoji's and sunglasses faces in the chat-- but Nikolai is usually busy with work and Yuan is spending more time with her family, so.+
He hangs out with Yuan and Nikolai a few times-- Shuuji has already left to Kyoto, with a series of tongue emoji's and sunglasses faces in the chat-- but Nikolai is usually busy with work and Yuan is spending more time with her family, so.+
Waiting is agony. The anticipation and excitement builds with every minute, until he can hardly sit still anymore.
He's never been to Osaka before. It was too far for his father's tastes, when they /did/ manage to take a vacation once a year or two. Usually they went to +
He's never been to Osaka before. It was too far for his father's tastes, when they /did/ manage to take a vacation once a year or two. Usually they went to +
the smaller, mountainous cities, or Tokyo, or once to Yokohama.
He's never been so far from home, and never with someone he was /involved/ with.
Not knowing the gameplan--Dazai has been surpisingly secretive with whatever plans he's made and most of Chuuya's questions are +
He's never been so far from home, and never with someone he was /involved/ with.
Not knowing the gameplan--Dazai has been surpisingly secretive with whatever plans he's made and most of Chuuya's questions are +
answered with ‘I’ll tell you if you really want— but don’t you want to keep it as a surprise?’— makes his anticipation build.
His imagination is running wild. What are they going to do in Osaka? How are they going to get there? Where are they going to stay? Are they going+
His imagination is running wild. What are they going to do in Osaka? How are they going to get there? Where are they going to stay? Are they going+
to see something /cool/ like—
Like—
Chuuya doesn’t even /know/, but he is so excited. He even spends most of a day going through the internet about the most popular spots in Osaka.
By the time the day arrives—
He’s so excited he barely even /slept/. Dazai said he was +
Like—
Chuuya doesn’t even /know/, but he is so excited. He even spends most of a day going through the internet about the most popular spots in Osaka.
By the time the day arrives—
He’s so excited he barely even /slept/. Dazai said he was +
picking him up around 7 in the morning, which /seems/ pretty early but Dazai said it was so they could get to Osaka around 11.
He’s awake by 5, practically bouncing on his bed like a kid as he waits for the minutes to pass by agonizingly slowly.
By 6:30 he’s checked his phone+
He’s awake by 5, practically bouncing on his bed like a kid as he waits for the minutes to pass by agonizingly slowly.
By 6:30 he’s checked his phone+
like a hundred times, waiting for an incoming text.
When Dazai’s icon— that picture of him and Yoko with the unbuttoned slacks—flickers to life, Chuuya is leaping up and /throwing/ his shoes on as quickly as possible.
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: I’m outside.
He barely remembers to lock+
When Dazai’s icon— that picture of him and Yoko with the unbuttoned slacks—flickers to life, Chuuya is leaping up and /throwing/ his shoes on as quickly as possible.
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: I’m outside.
He barely remembers to lock+
up behind him— Nikolai said he wouldn’t be home until later tonight— before he’s /bolting/ down the hallway.
He’s lucky that most of the other students have gone home for the summer break, because he probably would’ve woken up quite a few people with the ruckus he makes as he+
He’s lucky that most of the other students have gone home for the summer break, because he probably would’ve woken up quite a few people with the ruckus he makes as he+
jumps down the stairs and slams into the downstairs door.
He can’t help it; he’s so excited he barely even know what to do with himself. It’s like he’s a little kid again.
The air outside is chilly, but he barely even feels it. The warmth on his cheeks and the crazy grin on +
He can’t help it; he’s so excited he barely even know what to do with himself. It’s like he’s a little kid again.
The air outside is chilly, but he barely even feels it. The warmth on his cheeks and the crazy grin on +
his face plenty enough to keep him warm.
Dazai is parked in the same spot he always uses, his car rumbling softly in the quiet air. He’s leaning against the passenger door, a cup of something in each hand.
Steam rises from the cups, and Chuuya is drawn in like a moth to flame.+
Dazai is parked in the same spot he always uses, his car rumbling softly in the quiet air. He’s leaning against the passenger door, a cup of something in each hand.
Steam rises from the cups, and Chuuya is drawn in like a moth to flame.+
When Dazai sees him, the neutral expression melts off his face, replaced by a big, shiny grin. His teeth are white and straight, and that single dimple is /just/ deep enough to be visible from where Chuuya is walking—jogging, really— over and it’s—
It’s like dawn breaking over+
It’s like dawn breaking over+
the clouds. The frost is melting away and the birds are singing, and the air might be cold but /here/, here it is light and warm and beautiful.
When Chuuya is close enough, Dazai greets him.
“Good morning, lov— /oof/.”
Did Chuuya basically have to throw himself into his +
When Chuuya is close enough, Dazai greets him.
“Good morning, lov— /oof/.”
Did Chuuya basically have to throw himself into his +
arms, making them collide together with enough speed to knock the breath from them both? No.
Did he enjoy doing it? /Yes/.
Dazai is still holding his cups, so he can’t hug him back when Chuuya wraps his arms around his waist and squeezes him as tight as he possibly can.+
Did he enjoy doing it? /Yes/.
Dazai is still holding his cups, so he can’t hug him back when Chuuya wraps his arms around his waist and squeezes him as tight as he possibly can.+
It’s been a little over /two/ weeks since they last saw eachother. They’ve called and texted nearly constantly, but it’s not the /same/.
Chuuya feels like something inside him is slowly dying of dehydration whenever he’s away from Dazai, and it’s only until he sees that soft+
Chuuya feels like something inside him is slowly dying of dehydration whenever he’s away from Dazai, and it’s only until he sees that soft+
smile that he’s finally able to bloom again.
“Hi,” he mutters into his chest, squeezing him again.
He’s close enough that he can hear the rumble as Dazai gives a short, fond laugh.
“Hello. Did you miss me?”
There’s only /one/ answer to that question:
Leaning back a +
“Hi,” he mutters into his chest, squeezing him again.
He’s close enough that he can hear the rumble as Dazai gives a short, fond laugh.
“Hello. Did you miss me?”
There’s only /one/ answer to that question:
Leaning back a +
little, he slides his hands around to his front and then up, up, up—
Until his fingers are curling around the back of Dazai’s neck and tugging him down. Dazai bends for him easily, and Chuuya gets as high up on his toes as he can, bridging the distance between them.
“Yes,” he+
Until his fingers are curling around the back of Dazai’s neck and tugging him down. Dazai bends for him easily, and Chuuya gets as high up on his toes as he can, bridging the distance between them.
“Yes,” he+
breathes in the space between them, and then chases the sound until he can taste Dazai’s smile.
The kiss is slow, lazy, like the feeling of coming home again after a long day of work. Dazai tastes faintly of coffee, but mostly like warmth and sweetness.
Because Dazai’s hands+
The kiss is slow, lazy, like the feeling of coming home again after a long day of work. Dazai tastes faintly of coffee, but mostly like warmth and sweetness.
Because Dazai’s hands+
are still full, that means /Chuuya/ is in charge of how long the kiss goes on far. He drags it out for a long while, until he’s almost dizzy with the feeling of their lips sliding together.
“You’re going to make us late,” Dazai murmurs against his lips, warm breath washing over+
“You’re going to make us late,” Dazai murmurs against his lips, warm breath washing over+
his face. He doesn’t try to pull away though, and he’s smiling again.
Chuuya hums, not really caring. Screw the trip. He’s just fine where he is. Osaka doesn’t have /Dazai/, and he’s discovering that’s all he needs.
Another long, indulgent kiss later, and Chuuya finally+
Chuuya hums, not really caring. Screw the trip. He’s just fine where he is. Osaka doesn’t have /Dazai/, and he’s discovering that’s all he needs.
Another long, indulgent kiss later, and Chuuya finally+
gets his fill.
For now, anyways. He swears he’s an addict, he’s never happy unless he’s got the taste of Dazai on his tongue.
“Good morning,” he says, beaming up at him.
Dazai’s eyes are caramel-sweet and as warm as the coffee Chuuya can smell, so soft and deep that he +
For now, anyways. He swears he’s an addict, he’s never happy unless he’s got the taste of Dazai on his tongue.
“Good morning,” he says, beaming up at him.
Dazai’s eyes are caramel-sweet and as warm as the coffee Chuuya can smell, so soft and deep that he +
feels like he could trip into them and keep falling forever. “Good morning, Chuuya.”
Pulling back, he offers him one of the cups in his hands. “Payment for making you wake up.... ah, what was it you said that one time? ‘Monstrously early’?”
He /did/ say that, on a late night+
Pulling back, he offers him one of the cups in his hands. “Payment for making you wake up.... ah, what was it you said that one time? ‘Monstrously early’?”
He /did/ say that, on a late night+
call, where he was half-delirious from exhaustion. It’s adorable that Dazai remembered.
He takes his cup, smiling gratefully up at him. Takes a long sip, discovers that it’s his favorite drink from one of his favorite cafés.
“Are you ready?”
Chuuya nods, pulling on the +
He takes his cup, smiling gratefully up at him. Takes a long sip, discovers that it’s his favorite drink from one of his favorite cafés.
“Are you ready?”
Chuuya nods, pulling on the +
shoulder strap to his backpack. It still feels far too light, but it doesn’t look like Dazai brought anything, so.
Sliding over, Dazai opens the passenger door and holds it open for him. Chuuya ducks underneath his arm, climbing into his seat.
The backpack goes in the back +
Sliding over, Dazai opens the passenger door and holds it open for him. Chuuya ducks underneath his arm, climbing into his seat.
The backpack goes in the back +
seat— there’s another backpack there, a little bigger than his own— and it’s only a matter of moments before Dazai is sliding into the drivers seat.
Once again thanking the manufacturing gods for heated seats, Chuuya pulls his legs up into the seat with him. “Are we driving +
Once again thanking the manufacturing gods for heated seats, Chuuya pulls his legs up into the seat with him. “Are we driving +
there?”
Dazai puts the car into drive, pulling smoothly out of the parking lot. “No. We’re flying.”
Chuuya blinks. He’s never been on a plane before. His dad insisted that they were death contraptions, and that stepping on one was basically signing away your life. Whenever +
Dazai puts the car into drive, pulling smoothly out of the parking lot. “No. We’re flying.”
Chuuya blinks. He’s never been on a plane before. His dad insisted that they were death contraptions, and that stepping on one was basically signing away your life. Whenever +
they took a trip somewhere, they always took a train or /drove/.
Which was fun, sometimes, but being locked in a car with two sisters and your dad in city traffic, sometimes for /hours/, got old pretty quick.
It’s a good thing he brought his wallet with his ID in it, then. +
Which was fun, sometimes, but being locked in a car with two sisters and your dad in city traffic, sometimes for /hours/, got old pretty quick.
It’s a good thing he brought his wallet with his ID in it, then. +
“I’ve never been on a plane before,” he confesses.
Dazai gives him a slightly-concerned look. “Because you haven’t had the chance, or because you don’t like them? If you want, we can—.”
“No, I think it’s fine,” Chuuya cuts him off, shrugging lightly. “Is it scary?”
The +
Dazai gives him a slightly-concerned look. “Because you haven’t had the chance, or because you don’t like them? If you want, we can—.”
“No, I think it’s fine,” Chuuya cuts him off, shrugging lightly. “Is it scary?”
The +
corner of Dazai’s mouth tips upward, and his free hand reaches across the middle console. His fingers find Chuuya’s palm, pushing his fingers apart until Dazai’s can fit in between.
He gives his hand a squeeze, quietly reassuring. “No, it’s not. And I’ll be there with you.” +
He gives his hand a squeeze, quietly reassuring. “No, it’s not. And I’ll be there with you.” +
(Chuuya doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it being scary would probably be a /perk/— he /loves/ rollercoasters and wants to go skydiving someday—so he just squeezes his hand back with a small, heartfelt smile.)
The traffic gets a little heavier as they approach the +
The traffic gets a little heavier as they approach the +
airport, which is probably one of the reasons Dazai insisted on picking him up so early. Sometimes the traffic is quick—
And sometimes it’s at a standstill for close to an hour.
All depends on the day and how many tourists are arriving and leaving.
There is a tall parking +
And sometimes it’s at a standstill for close to an hour.
All depends on the day and how many tourists are arriving and leaving.
There is a tall parking +
garage on the airport grounds that Dazai pulls into. He drives almost all the way to the top, getting a ticket from the valet person sitting near the entrance.
“Aren’t you worried about leaving your car here?” Chuuya asks, because it is a /beautiful/ and expensive car, one that+
“Aren’t you worried about leaving your car here?” Chuuya asks, because it is a /beautiful/ and expensive car, one that+
would be a prime target for /stealing/. He wouldn’t leave this car alone for a week.
Dazai shrugs. “Not really. Airports have surprisingly good security, and the car itself has a good anti-theft system. It would take someone /very/ talented to be able to steal it.”
Well, he+
Dazai shrugs. “Not really. Airports have surprisingly good security, and the car itself has a good anti-theft system. It would take someone /very/ talented to be able to steal it.”
Well, he+
sounds pretty confident, so Chuuya decides to just accept that answer.
They find a parking spot near the top of the building, tucked away near the wall. The ticket the valet gave them is placed on the dashboard in clear sight.
As they get out, Dazai reaches in the back and +
They find a parking spot near the top of the building, tucked away near the wall. The ticket the valet gave them is placed on the dashboard in clear sight.
As they get out, Dazai reaches in the back and +
grabs both of their bags before Chuuya can even move his seat forward. He reaches for his own bag so he can carry it—
Only for Dazai to shrug it onto his shoulder, freeing up his hand so he can hold Chuuya’s.
He flushes, ducking his head a little. It’s mind-boggling how +
Only for Dazai to shrug it onto his shoulder, freeing up his hand so he can hold Chuuya’s.
He flushes, ducking his head a little. It’s mind-boggling how +
easily Dazai is affectionate with him in public. He’s affectionate in private, yes, and when they first see eachother—
But somehow Chuuya expected that behavior to be selective to only certain times.
So far it’s proving /not/ to be, which feels Chuuya with such warmth and +
But somehow Chuuya expected that behavior to be selective to only certain times.
So far it’s proving /not/ to be, which feels Chuuya with such warmth and +
giddiness and something like /pride/.
Because Dazai might not be in his league or on his level— which is pretty obvious, just based on the way Chuuya is dressed compared to him and his years-old backpack hanging over his shoulder— but he’s not /ashamed/ of Chuuya.
It’s not a+
Because Dazai might not be in his league or on his level— which is pretty obvious, just based on the way Chuuya is dressed compared to him and his years-old backpack hanging over his shoulder— but he’s not /ashamed/ of Chuuya.
It’s not a+
/secret/ that Chuuya is with him.He’s not /hiding/ it, or keeping it hidden away where no one knows and can judge him for it.
The man is holding his hand, with a watch that probably costs a semester of tuition while Chuuya is wearing a thrifted jacket, where /everyone/ can see.+
The man is holding his hand, with a watch that probably costs a semester of tuition while Chuuya is wearing a thrifted jacket, where /everyone/ can see.+
And he doesn’t look the least bit bothered by it, or embarrassed or /anything/.
As they approach the elevator down to the ground floor, Dazai glances over at him. “Are you excited?”
There’s a trash can near the door that Chuuya throws his empty coffee cup into. “Very.” +
As they approach the elevator down to the ground floor, Dazai glances over at him. “Are you excited?”
There’s a trash can near the door that Chuuya throws his empty coffee cup into. “Very.” +
Dazai presses the button for the elevator. As they wait, he reaches out and brushes his fingertips over his cheek.
His skin feels thin and burning under his touch, and he can’t do anything except stare up at him in awe as Dazai tucks his bangs behind his ear.
“I’m glad.”+
His skin feels thin and burning under his touch, and he can’t do anything except stare up at him in awe as Dazai tucks his bangs behind his ear.
“I’m glad.”+
God, how is he so /perfect/, it's not /fair/.
The elevator arriving then spares Chuuya from having to come up with a response. The ride down is quick, the floor dropping out smoothly beneath their feet.
From there, it's only a short trip through a tunnel connecting the garage +
The elevator arriving then spares Chuuya from having to come up with a response. The ride down is quick, the floor dropping out smoothly beneath their feet.
From there, it's only a short trip through a tunnel connecting the garage +
to the main airport. The walls have paintings on them, of scenes from far away lands.
The noise of the airport grows louder as they get closer. Machines beeping, a monotone voice over the loud speaker announcing flights, the rolling wheels of baggage over tile.
When they walk+
The noise of the airport grows louder as they get closer. Machines beeping, a monotone voice over the loud speaker announcing flights, the rolling wheels of baggage over tile.
When they walk+
through the automatic doors on the other side, Dazai gives his hand a squeeze. "I'll check us in."
He untangles their hands, leaving Chuuya to stand awkwardly in the middle of what almost looks like a lobby as he goes to talk to the receptionist at the desks.
He looks around,+
He untangles their hands, leaving Chuuya to stand awkwardly in the middle of what almost looks like a lobby as he goes to talk to the receptionist at the desks.
He looks around,+
taking in the sights. It's all clean and rather sterile, almost like a hotel. There's tons of people coming and going, none of them dressed the same.
Some of them are obviously businessmen, dressed in neatly pressed suits with their phones pressed to their ears. Others are +
Some of them are obviously businessmen, dressed in neatly pressed suits with their phones pressed to their ears. Others are +
tourists, staring around in wide-eyed wonder with their passports clutched to their chest.
Honestly, Chuuya relates to the tourists more, because this place doesn't even feel real. It feels like a place between worlds, a place you pass through but never stay for long. Time +
Honestly, Chuuya relates to the tourists more, because this place doesn't even feel real. It feels like a place between worlds, a place you pass through but never stay for long. Time +
seems to stand still here.
Dazai returns then, two pieces of paper in his hand. The beige turtleneck sweater he's wearing makes him look softer in the airport lighting.
"For you," he says, offering Chuuya one of the papers.
He takes it, looking down at it. It's a ticket, +
Dazai returns then, two pieces of paper in his hand. The beige turtleneck sweater he's wearing makes him look softer in the airport lighting.
"For you," he says, offering Chuuya one of the papers.
He takes it, looking down at it. It's a ticket, +
with his name, the date and times of his leaving and return flight and--
It says first class on it, in big iridescent letters.
His first flight is going to be in /first class/. Wow.
With a hand on his back, Dazai ushers him towards the security checkpoints. He still has both+
It says first class on it, in big iridescent letters.
His first flight is going to be in /first class/. Wow.
With a hand on his back, Dazai ushers him towards the security checkpoints. He still has both+
their bags over his shoulder, and they get sent through a conveyor belt to get searched.
After confirming their identities with their ID's, each of them gets a small handheld metal detector waved over their bodies. Chuuya doesn't have a single problem, because he doesn't even+
After confirming their identities with their ID's, each of them gets a small handheld metal detector waved over their bodies. Chuuya doesn't have a single problem, because he doesn't even+
have any earrings in but Dazai--
The metal detector beeps faintly when it's passed over his face. His eyes find Chuuya, burning with suggestion as he opens his mouth and rolls out his tongue to show off the piercing.
Chuuya flushes, body instantly flashing with the remembered+
The metal detector beeps faintly when it's passed over his face. His eyes find Chuuya, burning with suggestion as he opens his mouth and rolls out his tongue to show off the piercing.
Chuuya flushes, body instantly flashing with the remembered+
sensations of what that piercing felt like on his body, on his skin, in his /mouth/. And he's wondered, since then, what it would feel like on /other/ parts of his body, how easily Dazai could take him apart.
Judging by the tiny smirk Dazai has, he /knows/ what Chuuya is+
Judging by the tiny smirk Dazai has, he /knows/ what Chuuya is+
thinking about, and he /likes/ it.
The rest of their security check goes rather quickly, all things considered. Because they're first class, they got to skip most of the line. Eyeing the long crowd of people waiting to get checked, Chuuya is grateful they didn't have to wait.+
The rest of their security check goes rather quickly, all things considered. Because they're first class, they got to skip most of the line. Eyeing the long crowd of people waiting to get checked, Chuuya is grateful they didn't have to wait.+
When they walk away, this time Dazai pulls him close to his side, arm draped over his shoulders. His hand ends up over Chuuya's chest, wrist relaxed.
It's an absentminded rhythm he starts, his thumb brushing lightly over his shirt in rhythmic strokes. Each one drags the fabric+
It's an absentminded rhythm he starts, his thumb brushing lightly over his shirt in rhythmic strokes. Each one drags the fabric+
up, and then smooths it back down on the next pass. It's so light he can barely feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, but that just strings Chuuya's nerves tight. Like he might be able to feel it /better/, if he was more tense, more aware, more /focused/ on the +
sensations.
Up, down, up, /down/, feeling like his heart is beating in time and /god/, he just wants Dazai to actually /touch him/--
Suddenly, there's a small door in front of him and Dazai is reaching with his other hand to push it open. Thank god, because Chuuya was so +
Up, down, up, /down/, feeling like his heart is beating in time and /god/, he just wants Dazai to actually /touch him/--
Suddenly, there's a small door in front of him and Dazai is reaching with his other hand to push it open. Thank god, because Chuuya was so +
distracted that he might have just ran into the damn thing face first, and wouldn't /that/ be embarrassing.
Outside, there's a small set of stairs leading down to the tar-mac, and there's a plane waiting a couple dozen feet away, with it's door open and stairs leading inside.+
Outside, there's a small set of stairs leading down to the tar-mac, and there's a plane waiting a couple dozen feet away, with it's door open and stairs leading inside.+
Chuuya is confused because all the movies he's seen feature a big, industrial sized plane, and a long wait in the lobby. No one goes outside to board the plane, and the people always have to wait until their ticket number is called to line up.
Must be a first-class thing?+
Must be a first-class thing?+
There is a stewardess that greets them when they climb in though, who checks their tickets and ID's one last time. She's polite and respectfully distant, but her eyes linger on the watch on Dazai's wrist and the way his pullover stretches across his chest when he hands her his+
ticket.
She doesn't have to say anything for the interest in her eyes to be abundantly clear, and her smile to widen into something more beguiling.
On one hand, Chuuya understands because he, too, is so attracted to Dazai that it's hard to keep a hold of himself most times-- +
She doesn't have to say anything for the interest in her eyes to be abundantly clear, and her smile to widen into something more beguiling.
On one hand, Chuuya understands because he, too, is so attracted to Dazai that it's hard to keep a hold of himself most times-- +
But there's also a small, jealous piece of himself that is /aching/ to sink it's teeth in or to wrap himself around Dazai in a clear territorial display because--
/Mine/.
He's a little abrupt with handing her his own ticket, and his smile is politely /smug/. It wasn't a +
/Mine/.
He's a little abrupt with handing her his own ticket, and his smile is politely /smug/. It wasn't a +
competition, but if it /had/ been--
He would've won, and that knowledge itself is enough to make him smug and satisfied.
Inside the plane--it's smaller than Chuuya expected it would be-- there's a handful of seats. One of them is already taken by a man in a suit, ignoring them+
He would've won, and that knowledge itself is enough to make him smug and satisfied.
Inside the plane--it's smaller than Chuuya expected it would be-- there's a handful of seats. One of them is already taken by a man in a suit, ignoring them+
as he types frantically into his laptop and speaks into the Bluetooth in his ear.
It seems some people's work never ends.
Dazai has already picked out a pair of seats near a window,and is stashing their bags in the overhead compartment. Chuuya joins him, and quickly steals the+
It seems some people's work never ends.
Dazai has already picked out a pair of seats near a window,and is stashing their bags in the overhead compartment. Chuuya joins him, and quickly steals the+
window seat while Dazai is distracted.
(Dazai was actually planning on giving him the window seat, which is why he took so long putting their bags up. But he's not going to /tell/ him that, because the victorious and mischievous look on his face is /very/ cute.)
Dazai sits +
(Dazai was actually planning on giving him the window seat, which is why he took so long putting their bags up. But he's not going to /tell/ him that, because the victorious and mischievous look on his face is /very/ cute.)
Dazai sits +
beside him, having to adjust himself a little awkwardly in his seat because his legs are so ridiculously long. Chuuya can't /imagine/ him in economic class, where the seats are far closer together. His knees would be pressed to his chest.
The image is so hilarious that he +
The image is so hilarious that he +
almost doesn't hear Dazai when he speaks up again.
"Have you ever heard of the mile high club?"
Chuuya frowns, trying to think. "No? Is that when you ride on a plane for the first time?"
Dazai's secretive, smug smile makes him feel like he's /missing/ something.+
"Have you ever heard of the mile high club?"
Chuuya frowns, trying to think. "No? Is that when you ride on a plane for the first time?"
Dazai's secretive, smug smile makes him feel like he's /missing/ something.+
“That’s one way of putting it, yes.”
At Chuuya’s confused frown, he explains a little further. “It’s an exclusive group that only a few, lucky people get to be in.”
So.... it’s a rich person thing? Makes sense why Chuuya wouldn’t know it was then. “How do you join?”+
At Chuuya’s confused frown, he explains a little further. “It’s an exclusive group that only a few, lucky people get to be in.”
So.... it’s a rich person thing? Makes sense why Chuuya wouldn’t know it was then. “How do you join?”+
The smirk widens,and Chuuya is getting the /distinct/ feeling that he’s missing something important. Dazai looks like the cat who got the bird, like Chuuya is /exactly/ where he wants him.
“You have to complete a task that’s very exciting—but also dangerous, If you get caught.”+
“You have to complete a task that’s very exciting—but also dangerous, If you get caught.”+
There’s only so many ‘dangerous’ things Chuuya is willing to do while they’re literally a kilometer high in the air— oh, that must be where the name comes from—, but he’s always up for a dare. “What kind of task?”
/Task/ makes it sound like some kind of video game quest.+
/Task/ makes it sound like some kind of video game quest.+
Like ‘you must return with these three items before you can speak to me further, player.’
Honestly, what can you even /do/ on a plane? Steal something from the stewardess? Sit in the wrong seat? What kind of ‘dangerous task’ could it possibly be?
Dazai stares at him, eyes+
Honestly, what can you even /do/ on a plane? Steal something from the stewardess? Sit in the wrong seat? What kind of ‘dangerous task’ could it possibly be?
Dazai stares at him, eyes+
half-lidded and clearly contemplating /something/.
Chuuya thinks he’s about to give in and tell him whatever he has to do so he can join the mile high club, and he /does/ want to be a part of such an ‘exclusive’ club so he’ll probably end up doing—
“I’ll tell you later.” +
Chuuya thinks he’s about to give in and tell him whatever he has to do so he can join the mile high club, and he /does/ want to be a part of such an ‘exclusive’ club so he’ll probably end up doing—
“I’ll tell you later.” +
What the /hell/? Chuuya wants to join the club, just /tell/ him—
“Don’t pout at me, baby.”
Chuuya glares at him harder, sulking.
Taking pity on him, Dazai reaches over to pat his knee. “I promise I’ll get you in, baby. I’ve been a member for years.”
Okay, so get him in+
“Don’t pout at me, baby.”
Chuuya glares at him harder, sulking.
Taking pity on him, Dazai reaches over to pat his knee. “I promise I’ll get you in, baby. I’ve been a member for years.”
Okay, so get him in+
/now/. He wants to be in the club with Dazai. He can just use his magical powers of economic status to get him in, right?
“But not this time. I want you to enjoy your first flight without any distractions. Next time, if you’re good,” Dazai says, pulling out a magazine from the+
“But not this time. I want you to enjoy your first flight without any distractions. Next time, if you’re good,” Dazai says, pulling out a magazine from the+
drawer of the nightstand-looking thing in front of him.
Chuuya is /miffed/. “What’s stopping me from googling it and doing it on my /own/?”
Dazai doesn’t look at him. “Well, you /are/ going to need my help. And if you look it up, I won’t be happy, and I /won’t/ help you.”+
Chuuya is /miffed/. “What’s stopping me from googling it and doing it on my /own/?”
Dazai doesn’t look at him. “Well, you /are/ going to need my help. And if you look it up, I won’t be happy, and I /won’t/ help you.”+
It’s blackmail. Chuuya /knows/ it’s blackmail, but he can’t help the fact that his stomach twists unpleasantly when he thinks about Dazai being /unhappy/ with him. “You /promise/ to get me in the club next time?”
He doesn’t like feeling /excluded/, even if it’s as something as+
He doesn’t like feeling /excluded/, even if it’s as something as+
stupidly small as some aviation club.
(Chuuya doesn’t know, but Dazai is rapidly adjusting his plans for their vacation. He’s not going to /deny/ Chuuya, if that’s what he really wants— even if he doesn’t really know what he wants— but it’s going to take a /bit/ of work to get+
(Chuuya doesn’t know, but Dazai is rapidly adjusting his plans for their vacation. He’s not going to /deny/ Chuuya, if that’s what he really wants— even if he doesn’t really know what he wants— but it’s going to take a /bit/ of work to get+
Chuuya ready for a quickie in the plane bathroom.
He can probably do it, but suddenly this trip has become a /lot/ more interesting.)
“I’ll do my best, sweetheart.”
Chuuya squints at him for another moment before deciding to take him at his word. He goes back to looking out+
He can probably do it, but suddenly this trip has become a /lot/ more interesting.)
“I’ll do my best, sweetheart.”
Chuuya squints at him for another moment before deciding to take him at his word. He goes back to looking out+
the window. The view is boring still, just the runway, but excitement is beginning to thrum through him.
A few more people come on board, but most of them just silently head to their seats with an air of relief.
One gets a suggestive smirk when he spots Chuuya, but /that/+
A few more people come on board, but most of them just silently head to their seats with an air of relief.
One gets a suggestive smirk when he spots Chuuya, but /that/+
gets quickly shut down with a sharp glare from Dazai, not that Chuuya notices.
A few minutes before their departure time, Dazai clears his throat to get his attention. “Buckle up, we’re going to leave soon.”
Chuuya rolls his eyes. He appreciates the safety first idea, but +
A few minutes before their departure time, Dazai clears his throat to get his attention. “Buckle up, we’re going to leave soon.”
Chuuya rolls his eyes. He appreciates the safety first idea, but +
he’s not a child that needs to be told when and how to be safe. The plane isn’t even moving yet.
Still, because he’s in a good mood, he does as Dazai asks. The buckle is a little awkward to do up, simply because it’s just /different/ than most seatbelts. “Okay, /dad/.” +
Still, because he’s in a good mood, he does as Dazai asks. The buckle is a little awkward to do up, simply because it’s just /different/ than most seatbelts. “Okay, /dad/.” +
/He/ means it as some snarky comeback, obviously.
(But because he’s not /looking/, he doesn’t see the way Dazai’s pupils dilate near-immediately at the thought of what he /almost just said to him/.
If he /had/ said it, he would’ve joined the club a lot quicker than he does.)+
(But because he’s not /looking/, he doesn’t see the way Dazai’s pupils dilate near-immediately at the thought of what he /almost just said to him/.
If he /had/ said it, he would’ve joined the club a lot quicker than he does.)+
(Because Dazai is /struggling/.
He knows, from tone alone, that Chuuya did /not/ mean it the way Dazai is taking it. God, he might be so inexperienced and sheltered that he might not even /know/ that’s a kink.
So he’s torn between letting it /go/ and revisiting this when +
He knows, from tone alone, that Chuuya did /not/ mean it the way Dazai is taking it. God, he might be so inexperienced and sheltered that he might not even /know/ that’s a kink.
So he’s torn between letting it /go/ and revisiting this when +
they’re a bit further into their sexual relationship and more comfortable with eachother—
Or grabbing him by the /throat/ and asking— no, /ordering/— him to say it again, just a little different this time baby, you were /so/ close.
/ Okay, Dadd— /
Don’t even imagine it, he +
Or grabbing him by the /throat/ and asking— no, /ordering/— him to say it again, just a little different this time baby, you were /so/ close.
/ Okay, Dadd— /
Don’t even imagine it, he +
schools himself, deliberately /not/ looking at him.
Because if he even so much as /glances/ at that beautiful face, he’s going to remember what he looks like with his cum smeared all over his freckled cheeks, or what he looks like when he’s tearing up and choking on his cock— +
Because if he even so much as /glances/ at that beautiful face, he’s going to remember what he looks like with his cum smeared all over his freckled cheeks, or what he looks like when he’s tearing up and choking on his cock— +
Somehow, Chuuya always manages to find the very limits of Dazai’s control and /pushes/ it.)
Right at that moment, the stewardess closes the door to the plane and locks it with the giant red handle on it.
There’s a speech about how to use the seatbelt, and what to do if the+
Right at that moment, the stewardess closes the door to the plane and locks it with the giant red handle on it.
There’s a speech about how to use the seatbelt, and what to do if the+
plane goes down in water— which doesn’t make a /lot/ of sense, considering they’ll be flying over land, but it’s somewhat useful to know, just in case— before she comes down the aisles to check if all their seatbelts are correct.
Dazai shifts a little uncomfortably when she +
Dazai shifts a little uncomfortably when she +
reaches into his lap, staring dead ahead, but she just hooks her fingers around the belt and tugs on it to make sure it’s secure.
Chuuya just gets an assessing glance before she moves onto the next aisle.
She makes her way back up after and then—
Then they’re /moving/. +
Chuuya just gets an assessing glance before she moves onto the next aisle.
She makes her way back up after and then—
Then they’re /moving/. +
It’s... slow.
Chuuya didn’t know what he expected, exactly, but it wasn’t a series of agonizingly slow turns and crawling their way to the beginning of the runway.
It’s slower than a car. He could probably walk faster.
And then, when they find the end of the runway, the+
Chuuya didn’t know what he expected, exactly, but it wasn’t a series of agonizingly slow turns and crawling their way to the beginning of the runway.
It’s slower than a car. He could probably walk faster.
And then, when they find the end of the runway, the+
plane just sits there for a long moment, engine revving and growing louder.
Chuuya is about to ask Dazai why it’s taking so long, when the plane pulls away again.
This time it’s /faster/, picking up speed, engine roaring in his ears. It feels like he’s left his stomach +
Chuuya is about to ask Dazai why it’s taking so long, when the plane pulls away again.
This time it’s /faster/, picking up speed, engine roaring in his ears. It feels like he’s left his stomach +
somewhere behind him, and he’s pressed back hard against the seat. Outside the world is flashing by, almost too fast for him to keep up with and then—
The nose of the plane tips up, and the world drops away, and Chuuya feels /weightless/, like a bird coming home to the sky.+
The nose of the plane tips up, and the world drops away, and Chuuya feels /weightless/, like a bird coming home to the sky.+
He’s grinning, his legs tingling with excitement. He /likes/ this. It’s better than the car or the motorcycle.
It’s like /flying/.
“This is /cool/,” he gasps, watching as the city grows smaller and smaller beneath them. He turns to look over his shoulder—
“Are you +
It’s like /flying/.
“This is /cool/,” he gasps, watching as the city grows smaller and smaller beneath them. He turns to look over his shoulder—
“Are you +
/filming me/?!”
Dazai grins at him from behind his phone. “Yes. I want to remember this.”
“Stop it,” Chuuya laughs, reaching out to snatch his phone from him. He probably looked like a little kid in that video!
Dazai leans back, holding his phone out of reach but still firmly+
Dazai grins at him from behind his phone. “Yes. I want to remember this.”
“Stop it,” Chuuya laughs, reaching out to snatch his phone from him. He probably looked like a little kid in that video!
Dazai leans back, holding his phone out of reach but still firmly+
pointed towards his face. “Nope, not happening.”
Chuuya mock-glares at him, too happy to be actually mad. “You’re lucky I’m strapped to this chair.”
Dazai’s eyes soften, lowering his phone a little to look at him, expression open. “I’m lucky for a lot of reasons, chibi.” +
Chuuya mock-glares at him, too happy to be actually mad. “You’re lucky I’m strapped to this chair.”
Dazai’s eyes soften, lowering his phone a little to look at him, expression open. “I’m lucky for a lot of reasons, chibi.” +
Chuuya has to look away from /that/, because Dazai's eyes are so full of emotion that he feels he might drown in it.
Eventually, as they climb higher and level out, the seatbelt light shuts off. Chuuya doesn't notice, too busy staring out the window.
The view is /beautiful/.+
Eventually, as they climb higher and level out, the seatbelt light shuts off. Chuuya doesn't notice, too busy staring out the window.
The view is /beautiful/.+
The clouds are soft and fluffy today, rolling gently through the sky. The sun shines through them, some of the rays filtering through visibly, like light shining down from heaven.
In the background, he can see the ocean, a long solid mass of shiny white-blue.
He points out+
In the background, he can see the ocean, a long solid mass of shiny white-blue.
He points out+
the better sights to Dazai, shifting over in his seat so he can lean close enough to see whatever cloud or forest--the trees look so /small/ from up here,just tiny specks of green-- Chuuya is pointing out.
Sometimes Dazai presses their cheeks together, and Chuuya /knows/ he can+
Sometimes Dazai presses their cheeks together, and Chuuya /knows/ he can+
feel the warmth of his smile, but god, he can't /stop/.
And then once, Dazai points out a cat-shaped cloud and while Chuuya is distracted, following where he's pointing--
Dazai pulls back and presses the softest, warmest of kisses over the apple of his cheek, quick and +
And then once, Dazai points out a cat-shaped cloud and while Chuuya is distracted, following where he's pointing--
Dazai pulls back and presses the softest, warmest of kisses over the apple of his cheek, quick and +
fleeting, gone before he can even lean into it.
"How long is the flight?" Chuuya asks, glancing over his shoulder.
Dazai has a magazine open on this lap, but he seems to be spending more time looking at Chuuya than the pages. "A little over an hour."
That doesn't seem like +
"How long is the flight?" Chuuya asks, glancing over his shoulder.
Dazai has a magazine open on this lap, but he seems to be spending more time looking at Chuuya than the pages. "A little over an hour."
That doesn't seem like +
enough /time/. He doesn't think he wants to come down /ever/.
But they do eventually, and the seatbelt lights come back on with a quiet ding. Chuuya hasn't touched his, but Dazai has to rebuckle his own.
The stewardess doesn't come back to check again.
The descent is even +
But they do eventually, and the seatbelt lights come back on with a quiet ding. Chuuya hasn't touched his, but Dazai has to rebuckle his own.
The stewardess doesn't come back to check again.
The descent is even +
more thrilling than the ascent, because they'll be smoothly coasting downwards and then suddenly they'll /drop/ a little bit, which makes Chuuya's stomach feel empty and weightless.
Below them, Osaka grows back into normal proportions. The skyscrapers slowly grow closer, and +
Below them, Osaka grows back into normal proportions. The skyscrapers slowly grow closer, and +
the buildings become more recognizable. The cars, which look like tiny moving specks, regain color and shape.
Landing on the runway is exhilarating, the sudden jostle of the wheels hitting the ground making his breath catch. He's pulled forward away from his seat as the brakes+
Landing on the runway is exhilarating, the sudden jostle of the wheels hitting the ground making his breath catch. He's pulled forward away from his seat as the brakes+
kick in. He braces himself with his feet, pushing back hard like he might be able to stop the plane himself.
Coming to a slow stop is like coming to the end of his favorite ride. He /likes/ flying, and suddenly he's almost as excited for the return flight as he is for the +
Coming to a slow stop is like coming to the end of his favorite ride. He /likes/ flying, and suddenly he's almost as excited for the return flight as he is for the +
vacation itself.
He doesn't ever want to come down.
Dazai stands up first when the plane stops completely, reaching up to stretch his back out. The action makes his pullover rise up, exposing a small line of his hips above the waistband of his jeans.
The lines bracketing his+
He doesn't ever want to come down.
Dazai stands up first when the plane stops completely, reaching up to stretch his back out. The action makes his pullover rise up, exposing a small line of his hips above the waistband of his jeans.
The lines bracketing his+
hips and leading down and inwards only look more tantalizing now that Chuuya knows where they /lead/ to.
By the time Dazai has pulled down their bags from the overhead compartment, Chuuya has unbuckled his seatbelt and joined him in the aisle.
He has to stretch too, even +
By the time Dazai has pulled down their bags from the overhead compartment, Chuuya has unbuckled his seatbelt and joined him in the aisle.
He has to stretch too, even +
though they've only been sitting for an hour. Something about the altitude changes makes his spine feel compressed.
The people closer to the front of the plane file off first. The stewardess stands at the door and gives everyone a polite goodbye as they descend the stairs. +
The people closer to the front of the plane file off first. The stewardess stands at the door and gives everyone a polite goodbye as they descend the stairs. +
Dazai lets him go first,following behind him closely.
The stewardess gives Chuuya the same goodbye but to /Dazai/ she tacks on a "Let me know if there's /anything/ I can do to make your stay in Osaka better."
Dazai doesn't seem to notice or care,which makes Chuuya feel better.+
The stewardess gives Chuuya the same goodbye but to /Dazai/ she tacks on a "Let me know if there's /anything/ I can do to make your stay in Osaka better."
Dazai doesn't seem to notice or care,which makes Chuuya feel better.+
As they step off the plane, Chuuya asks, "So now what do we do?"
Dazai pulls his phone out of his pocket, waking the device with a few presses of the buttons.He starts doing something on the screen that Chuuya can't see from this angle. "First, we go to the hotel I reserved for+
Dazai pulls his phone out of his pocket, waking the device with a few presses of the buttons.He starts doing something on the screen that Chuuya can't see from this angle. "First, we go to the hotel I reserved for+
us."
Okay, that makes sense. Dazai probably doesn't want to carry their bags everywhere else they go today. "And then after?"
Dazai shoots him a sly look. "After? Osaka Station City."
Chuuya narrows his eyes. That's one of the bigger and more known of Osaka's shopping malls.+
Okay, that makes sense. Dazai probably doesn't want to carry their bags everywhere else they go today. "And then after?"
Dazai shoots him a sly look. "After? Osaka Station City."
Chuuya narrows his eyes. That's one of the bigger and more known of Osaka's shopping malls.+
And he's starting to feel a little slow on the uptake but in his defense he was distracted by the idea of the trip entirely--
"Did you tell me not to bring anything so that you could buy me new stuff?"
Dazai taps something on his phone. "Oh, absolutely."
That /trickster/. +
"Did you tell me not to bring anything so that you could buy me new stuff?"
Dazai taps something on his phone. "Oh, absolutely."
That /trickster/. +
“You /tricked/ me?”
Dazai looks momentarily chastised before he shrugs it off. “Tricked is a strong word, I think. I just...created the situation I needed so I could spoil you. You always say no to me because you don’t need it— now you /do/ need it.”
That sounds /exactly/ like+
Dazai looks momentarily chastised before he shrugs it off. “Tricked is a strong word, I think. I just...created the situation I needed so I could spoil you. You always say no to me because you don’t need it— now you /do/ need it.”
That sounds /exactly/ like+
tricking him. He slaps at Dazai’s side. “That wasn’t nice of you.”
Catching his wrist, Dazai brings it to his face and drops a kiss onto the sensitive underside. “You won’t /let/ me be nice to you,” he whines, “I just want you to be /happy/.”
Dazai /never/ plays fair. Here +
Catching his wrist, Dazai brings it to his face and drops a kiss onto the sensitive underside. “You won’t /let/ me be nice to you,” he whines, “I just want you to be /happy/.”
Dazai /never/ plays fair. Here +
Chuuya was, rightfully indignant about being manipulated—
And now he’s fighting off a blush and butterflies are rioting in his stomach.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a demon?” He grumbles.
That makes Dazai blink in surprise for a second. Then he’s throwing his head+
And now he’s fighting off a blush and butterflies are rioting in his stomach.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a demon?” He grumbles.
That makes Dazai blink in surprise for a second. Then he’s throwing his head+
back on a loud laugh, smile huge.
Chuuya doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. It was supposed to be /mean/.
“More often than you might think,” Dazai chuckles. “Though this is the first time I liked it.”
“It wasn’t a compliment!”
“It is if I decide to take it as one~.”+
Chuuya doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. It was supposed to be /mean/.
“More often than you might think,” Dazai chuckles. “Though this is the first time I liked it.”
“It wasn’t a compliment!”
“It is if I decide to take it as one~.”+
The Osaka airport is even bigger than the one in Yokohama, and a /lot/ busier. As soon as they step into the main building, there’s a dull roar of noise.
Chuuya normally dislikes crowded places because he tends to get pushed around and crushed within the crowd. Being on the +
Chuuya normally dislikes crowded places because he tends to get pushed around and crushed within the crowd. Being on the +
smaller side does come with its own perks, but in these types of situations, it usually just means he gets /stepped/ on.
Dazai, though, is a lot taller and /broader/ than most of the crowd. People shift out of his way as he approaches.
It’s totally unfair, but Chuuya does +
Dazai, though, is a lot taller and /broader/ than most of the crowd. People shift out of his way as he approaches.
It’s totally unfair, but Chuuya does +
take advantage of the bubble of space around him, following in his shadow as he leads the way out of the airport.
Outside, the air is a wall of heat. It's mid-August, the middle of the hot season, and it's always warmer in the southern parts of Japan. Chuuya is glad he wore his+
Outside, the air is a wall of heat. It's mid-August, the middle of the hot season, and it's always warmer in the southern parts of Japan. Chuuya is glad he wore his+
lighter jacket with a decent shirt underneath, because he has a feeling he'll be taking it off sooner rather than later. He doesn't understand how Dazai looks so comfortable in his sweater, especially because he can see the hints of the bandages around his neck.
The ones around+
The ones around+
his forearms are gone, because he has the sleeves pushed up but--
Chuuya looks /covertly/,because he doesn't want to be caught staring,but he sees no reason for Dazai to be so nervous about him seeing his forearms? He did mention cover-up and now that Chuuya is paying attention+
Chuuya looks /covertly/,because he doesn't want to be caught staring,but he sees no reason for Dazai to be so nervous about him seeing his forearms? He did mention cover-up and now that Chuuya is paying attention+
his skin does look a bit /too/ uniform in color, a bit too perfect.
As they board the shuttle bus that will bring them to the train station that snakes through Osaka, Chuuya catches a glimpse of a long, old but deeply gouged scar on one of his wrists, horizontal from palm to +
As they board the shuttle bus that will bring them to the train station that snakes through Osaka, Chuuya catches a glimpse of a long, old but deeply gouged scar on one of his wrists, horizontal from palm to +
(tw mention of suicide attempt, non-graphic, next few tweets)
forearm. It's deep enough that Chuuya can actually see the scarred points of where staples were used to hold the skin together.
Chuuya's heart plummets. He knows what that scar is, what it /means/. It's shaky, like +
forearm. It's deep enough that Chuuya can actually see the scarred points of where staples were used to hold the skin together.
Chuuya's heart plummets. He knows what that scar is, what it /means/. It's shaky, like +
it was done by /himself/, not by a surgeon.
And Chuuya /aches/, because Dazai /seems/ to be overall happy and steady--
But clearly he wasn't /always/ that way. Clearly, he used to be in terrible, awful pain--maybe he still /is/, Chuuya doesn't know-- and he tried to--
Well. +
And Chuuya /aches/, because Dazai /seems/ to be overall happy and steady--
But clearly he wasn't /always/ that way. Clearly, he used to be in terrible, awful pain--maybe he still /is/, Chuuya doesn't know-- and he tried to--
Well. +
And it's so hard to connect the hurt he must've felt back then with the soft, contagious smile Chuuya has been seeing all day.
A smile he might've never gotten to see. It was always beautiful--
But even more so now, because now he knows he almost /lost/ it before he even had +
A smile he might've never gotten to see. It was always beautiful--
But even more so now, because now he knows he almost /lost/ it before he even had +
it. He almost never got to see it or taste it.
Pain is never beautiful.
Recovery is, especially recovery that has been hard-fought and hard-won.
Chuuya reaches out to squeeze Dazai's hand tightly. It earns him a slightly-confused look, but Dazai squeezes him back easily. +
Pain is never beautiful.
Recovery is, especially recovery that has been hard-fought and hard-won.
Chuuya reaches out to squeeze Dazai's hand tightly. It earns him a slightly-confused look, but Dazai squeezes him back easily. +
(end tw)
Still, besides the big scar-- and a few, smaller, normal-looking ones--he doesn't see a reason why he needs to hide his forearms.
Or what he /could/ hide so easily, with just some cover-up foundation.
He wants to ask again, but he doesn't want to break this content+
Still, besides the big scar-- and a few, smaller, normal-looking ones--he doesn't see a reason why he needs to hide his forearms.
Or what he /could/ hide so easily, with just some cover-up foundation.
He wants to ask again, but he doesn't want to break this content+
air that's settled between them. He doesn't want to bring back the haunted look in Dazai's eyes.
Chuuya can be patient. He doesn't intend on going /anywhere/, for as long as Dazai will keep him. He'll learn the answer, someday.
Today though, he's hanging onto Dazai as they +
Chuuya can be patient. He doesn't intend on going /anywhere/, for as long as Dazai will keep him. He'll learn the answer, someday.
Today though, he's hanging onto Dazai as they +
board their train. It's not completely packed, there /are/ a few of the lower handles available for Chuuya to grab onto--
But he much prefers wrapping his arm around Dazai's waist and holding on. The man is /immovable/, hardly even shifting as the train hurtles around a corner.+
But he much prefers wrapping his arm around Dazai's waist and holding on. The man is /immovable/, hardly even shifting as the train hurtles around a corner.+
He's so solid and warm, packed with muscle. A rock, unflinching underneath the weight of the world.
"Where are we going?" Chuuya asks, rocking up on his heels so he can be heard better.
The corner of Dazai's mouth tips up slightly, but he doesn't look down. "We're getting off+
"Where are we going?" Chuuya asks, rocking up on his heels so he can be heard better.
The corner of Dazai's mouth tips up slightly, but he doesn't look down. "We're getting off+
in two more stops."
That doesn't answer the question at /all/, and Chuuya is discovering a vaguely annoying habit of Dazai's--
The man is /incredibly/ secretive when he wants to be and he takes /too/ much satisfaction in surprising Chuuya with his plans.
Don't get him wrong, +
That doesn't answer the question at /all/, and Chuuya is discovering a vaguely annoying habit of Dazai's--
The man is /incredibly/ secretive when he wants to be and he takes /too/ much satisfaction in surprising Chuuya with his plans.
Don't get him wrong, +
he /likes/ surprises, it's just a /little/ frustrating to be kept in the dark for so long. At least give him some /hints/ or something, so he can at least know what to expect.
They do get off two stops later, at a station that makes all the stops in Yokohama look small by +
They do get off two stops later, at a station that makes all the stops in Yokohama look small by +
comparison.
It isn't that Yokohama is small-- it's /not/, it's actually bigger than Osaka in terms of population-- but Osaka is larger by size, and so everything is /bigger/.
The buildings are taller, there are more stores, everything is /busier/, moving on a faster pace.+
It isn't that Yokohama is small-- it's /not/, it's actually bigger than Osaka in terms of population-- but Osaka is larger by size, and so everything is /bigger/.
The buildings are taller, there are more stores, everything is /busier/, moving on a faster pace.+
Dazai leads him a few streets down, patiently waiting as Chuuya looks around, eyes huge. Osaka is /definitely/ more of a merchant and tourist city, and it shows in just the sheer amount of stores lining every street.
Everywhere he looks, there's /more/ to look at. He almost +
Everywhere he looks, there's /more/ to look at. He almost +
feels like a tourist himself, even though he's only a few hours away from home.
The building Dazai guides him into is tall and modern. The sign over the front door says CONRAD OSAKA in English, with the kanji for it written on the large glass doors.
The air inside is much +
The building Dazai guides him into is tall and modern. The sign over the front door says CONRAD OSAKA in English, with the kanji for it written on the large glass doors.
The air inside is much +
cooler than outside, and the lobby looks like something off a damn /Pinterest/ board.
Shiny marble flooring, with a large receptionist desk that takes up the entirety of the back wall. It's sparsely decorated, with just enough paintings on the walls and large ceramic vases on +
Shiny marble flooring, with a large receptionist desk that takes up the entirety of the back wall. It's sparsely decorated, with just enough paintings on the walls and large ceramic vases on +
the floor to hint at luxury.
There's a /huge/ white spiral staircase off to the side, which leads up to the third floor. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling light up the space, softening the atmosphere the dark flooring creates.
It's /expensive/, in a very western way. +
There's a /huge/ white spiral staircase off to the side, which leads up to the third floor. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling light up the space, softening the atmosphere the dark flooring creates.
It's /expensive/, in a very western way. +
Dazai goes to check in, leaving Chuuya to stare around himself in awe.
He's gotten somewhat used to seeing /Dazai's/ money, but the sleek appliances and luxury vehicles he has seem a /lot/ more normal and ordinary compared to this hotel.
At least the man doesn't have +
He's gotten somewhat used to seeing /Dazai's/ money, but the sleek appliances and luxury vehicles he has seem a /lot/ more normal and ordinary compared to this hotel.
At least the man doesn't have +
/chandeliers/ hanging from his ceiling. His house /looks/ normal. This feels like some hotel where /celebrities/ get to stay.
“Come on, doll,” Dazai gets his attention, beckoning to him. He’s standing near the elevators, the call button already lit up.
The faint music playing+
“Come on, doll,” Dazai gets his attention, beckoning to him. He’s standing near the elevators, the call button already lit up.
The faint music playing+
through the lobby masks the sound of his quiet footsteps as he makes his way over.
Dazai holds the door open for him, and /god/, even the elevator is made of marble and spotless glass. Every /inch/ of this place reeks of money.
“What floor?” He asks, his finger hovering over+
Dazai holds the door open for him, and /god/, even the elevator is made of marble and spotless glass. Every /inch/ of this place reeks of money.
“What floor?” He asks, his finger hovering over+
the buttons. All of them are labeled by number, but some of them have little names written underneath as well.
Conference room. Spa floor. Pool room. A few others.
“Top floor,” Dazai says casually.
“You mean... the 40th floor?” Chuuya hesitates because he was /expecting/ +
Conference room. Spa floor. Pool room. A few others.
“Top floor,” Dazai says casually.
“You mean... the 40th floor?” Chuuya hesitates because he was /expecting/ +
something near the top, but not /the/ top floor—
“Yeah. It’s a good thing you’re not afraid of heights,” Dazai says, looking thoughtful. “I probably should have asked that before I made the reservation.”
Even if Chuuya /was/ afraid of heights— he’s not, he /loves/ the empty-+
“Yeah. It’s a good thing you’re not afraid of heights,” Dazai says, looking thoughtful. “I probably should have asked that before I made the reservation.”
Even if Chuuya /was/ afraid of heights— he’s not, he /loves/ the empty-+
exhilaration feeling he gets in his stomach whenever he’s up high— there’s no way he /couldn’t/ appreciate the view on the /top floor/ of a luxury hotel.
He presses the button, wondering what the room will look like. The lobby was swanky enough, but as far as /he/ knows, the+
He presses the button, wondering what the room will look like. The lobby was swanky enough, but as far as /he/ knows, the+
best rooms are at the /top/. The most /expensive/ ones too.
The elevator ride is both too short and too long. Every time the number counter clicks over, the anticipation builds a little further.
By the time they make it to the top, Chuuya is practically vibrating with +
The elevator ride is both too short and too long. Every time the number counter clicks over, the anticipation builds a little further.
By the time they make it to the top, Chuuya is practically vibrating with +
excitement. Dazai looks amused beside him, but otherwise unaffected, which is probably just /another/ marker for how ridiculously rich he is.
He doesn’t even blink at the idea of staying on the top floor of the Conrad Osaka. Like this is a /regular occurrence/ to him.
Then +
He doesn’t even blink at the idea of staying on the top floor of the Conrad Osaka. Like this is a /regular occurrence/ to him.
Then +
the doors are opening, revealing a long hallway. It’s darkly colored, with only a few lamps scattered throughout to light the way.
There’s only two doors, arranged close together.
Two rooms to a whole /floor/.
With the keycard given to him by the receptionists, Dazai opens+
There’s only two doors, arranged close together.
Two rooms to a whole /floor/.
With the keycard given to him by the receptionists, Dazai opens+
the door on the left, revealing—
What looks like a fully stocked /house/.
It’s western style, like the rest of the hotel, with a foyer that leads into a large dining room. The table looks big enough to seat six people, and there’s a huge vase centered in the middle.
The +
What looks like a fully stocked /house/.
It’s western style, like the rest of the hotel, with a foyer that leads into a large dining room. The table looks big enough to seat six people, and there’s a huge vase centered in the middle.
The +
flowers in it aren’t orange, which probably means that Dazai didn’t pick them out, but just seeing them makes Chuuya smile.
There’s a fully equipped kitchen, with a fridge big enough that Chuuya could fit inside entirely.
Two steps down leading into a living room, with a +
There’s a fully equipped kitchen, with a fridge big enough that Chuuya could fit inside entirely.
Two steps down leading into a living room, with a +
/huge/ grey-leather couch that looks big enough that Dazai could stretch out on it. The TV looks almost as big, mounted on the opposite wall.
The remote is sitting on the table in the middle, along with a little ‘thank you’ note from the hotel and a list of numbers for services+
The remote is sitting on the table in the middle, along with a little ‘thank you’ note from the hotel and a list of numbers for services+
for things like room service, and the maid service.
Dazai heads into the hallway leading to the back, assumingly where the bedroom— /bedrooms/?— is, but Chuuya’s attention is caught by the huge wall of windows.
Outside is a /balcony/, big enough that it looks like a room in+
Dazai heads into the hallway leading to the back, assumingly where the bedroom— /bedrooms/?— is, but Chuuya’s attention is caught by the huge wall of windows.
Outside is a /balcony/, big enough that it looks like a room in+
itself.
Drawn, Chuuya opens the door that leads outside.
There’s an entire array of outdoor furniture—complete with a /jacuzzi/— that is sheltered by a small overhang. It keeps the outside from getting /too/ hot by being baked in the sun—
But Chuuya is more interested in+
Drawn, Chuuya opens the door that leads outside.
There’s an entire array of outdoor furniture—complete with a /jacuzzi/— that is sheltered by a small overhang. It keeps the outside from getting /too/ hot by being baked in the sun—
But Chuuya is more interested in+
the /view/.
The railing encasing the balcony is made of glass and metal, which gives the illusion of /almost/ hanging off the edge as Chuuya steps up to it.
The ground is /dizzingly/ far below, so far that he can barely make out the street. The sun shines blindingly bright +
The railing encasing the balcony is made of glass and metal, which gives the illusion of /almost/ hanging off the edge as Chuuya steps up to it.
The ground is /dizzingly/ far below, so far that he can barely make out the street. The sun shines blindingly bright +
off the glass of the buildings that surround them.
He’s so far up that he feels like he can see to the edge of the city, like he’s standing among the /clouds/ instead of on the Earth.
Like he could step off the ledge and go /soaring/.
“Do you like it?” Dazai’s voice comes +
He’s so far up that he feels like he can see to the edge of the city, like he’s standing among the /clouds/ instead of on the Earth.
Like he could step off the ledge and go /soaring/.
“Do you like it?” Dazai’s voice comes +
from behind him.
Of course he likes it. He /loves/ it. And if the view is this good during the /day/, then he can’t even begin to imagine what it looks like at /night/, when the city is lit up.
He turns around—
And finds Dazai /closer/ than he was expecting, almost directly+
Of course he likes it. He /loves/ it. And if the view is this good during the /day/, then he can’t even begin to imagine what it looks like at /night/, when the city is lit up.
He turns around—
And finds Dazai /closer/ than he was expecting, almost directly+
behind him.
He has to look /up/ to see him, and if the view off the balcony is /good/—
Then this one, the sight of Dazai in ful sunlight, eyes turned honey-golden in the light and wild hair waving gently in the wind, lips full and shiny and /tempting/, cheeks ever so slightly+
He has to look /up/ to see him, and if the view off the balcony is /good/—
Then this one, the sight of Dazai in ful sunlight, eyes turned honey-golden in the light and wild hair waving gently in the wind, lips full and shiny and /tempting/, cheeks ever so slightly+
red from the sun—
This view is his /favorite/.
“I love it,” Chuuya breathes, unable to look away. His hands clutch the railing behind him. “The view is amazing.”
Dazai takes another step forward, cornering Chuuya against the railing. His hands come to either side of him,+
This view is his /favorite/.
“I love it,” Chuuya breathes, unable to look away. His hands clutch the railing behind him. “The view is amazing.”
Dazai takes another step forward, cornering Chuuya against the railing. His hands come to either side of him,+
boxing him in by grabbing the railing on either side.
He’s not touching him, but the heat coming off him feels /boiling/, way hotter than the sun itself.
“I have to agree,” Dazai says lowly, like he’s confessing to a secret. His eyes are firmly fixed on his face though, and he+
He’s not touching him, but the heat coming off him feels /boiling/, way hotter than the sun itself.
“I have to agree,” Dazai says lowly, like he’s confessing to a secret. His eyes are firmly fixed on his face though, and he+
doesn’t look up to take in the view of the buildings, not even for a /second/.
The words drop so easily from his lips, so naturally that Chuuya barely even registers that he’s speaking before he hears his own voice. “Kiss me.”
Dazai’s eyes flick downward, taking in the slight+
The words drop so easily from his lips, so naturally that Chuuya barely even registers that he’s speaking before he hears his own voice. “Kiss me.”
Dazai’s eyes flick downward, taking in the slight+
pout of his lips. His gaze feels scorching, almost intense enough that he feels he's being kissed /already/.
He licks his bottom lip unconsciously, thrilling at the way Dazai's eyes follow the motion, heating up to molten pools.
(There's a part of Dazai that wants to make +
He licks his bottom lip unconsciously, thrilling at the way Dazai's eyes follow the motion, heating up to molten pools.
(There's a part of Dazai that wants to make +
him wait, at least until he asks /nicely/. The chibi has gotten so /demanding/ lately, which is adorable and flattering--
But there's a lot to be said about a soft-spoken 'please'.
Then again, it would be a crime not to kiss him right now. The sun has turned his blue eyes into+
But there's a lot to be said about a soft-spoken 'please'.
Then again, it would be a crime not to kiss him right now. The sun has turned his blue eyes into+
a searingly bright blue, and the red of his hair has golden highlights that shimmer and shine.
With the image of the clouds behind him, he looks like an angel. Grounded only for the time it takes him to find his wings again.
Really, it would be a shame /not/ to kiss him.)+
With the image of the clouds behind him, he looks like an angel. Grounded only for the time it takes him to find his wings again.
Really, it would be a shame /not/ to kiss him.)+
Dazai leans down at the same time Chuuya rises up on his toes. They meet somewhere in the middle, lips brushing together on the edge of the world.
It’s just as soft as this morning, but every time they kiss, it just feels /fuller/ than the last. Filled with more emotion, more+
It’s just as soft as this morning, but every time they kiss, it just feels /fuller/ than the last. Filled with more emotion, more+
understanding, more /depth/. Like every time they get closer, and every kiss ties them tighter together.
One of Dazai’s hands leaves the railing, moving to cup his cheek. His thumb brushes gently over his cheekbone, encouraging him to tilt so their mouths can fit together+
One of Dazai’s hands leaves the railing, moving to cup his cheek. His thumb brushes gently over his cheekbone, encouraging him to tilt so their mouths can fit together+
better. His fingers are long enough that the tips are tangled in his hair, another point of connection.
Unconsciously, Chuuya’s hand finds his shoulder. He grips hard, sweater bunching in his fingers as he pulls him down a little further, a little /harder/.
Teeth nip at +
Unconsciously, Chuuya’s hand finds his shoulder. He grips hard, sweater bunching in his fingers as he pulls him down a little further, a little /harder/.
Teeth nip at +
his lip in response, playful and teasing.
Chuuya pushes up a little higher, biting him /back/, enjoying the way Dazai’s hand firms on his cheek and he presses even closer, pinning Chuuya against the railing.
He has a lot of things he likes about Dazai, but he thinks that +
Chuuya pushes up a little higher, biting him /back/, enjoying the way Dazai’s hand firms on his cheek and he presses even closer, pinning Chuuya against the railing.
He has a lot of things he likes about Dazai, but he thinks that +
the way he kisses him might be his /favorite/.
Between the sun at his back and the heat of Dazai in front of him, Chuuya feels like he’s melting, mind going summer-sweet hazy. His body is heating up, kindling to the fire that Dazai lights within him.
He never wants to stop. +
Between the sun at his back and the heat of Dazai in front of him, Chuuya feels like he’s melting, mind going summer-sweet hazy. His body is heating up, kindling to the fire that Dazai lights within him.
He never wants to stop. +
And as always, it's over /too soon/. Dazai pulls away--slowly, because Chuuya chases after him with a disappointed noise and he always gets another kiss in reply-- his thumb brushing over his cheekbone.
"Why are you stopping?" Chuuya grumbles, using the grip on his sweater to+
"Why are you stopping?" Chuuya grumbles, using the grip on his sweater to+
drag him back down. He feels a /little/ bad about stretching out the fabric, but he wouldn't /have/ to if Dazai would stop trying to pull away!
"Because, chibi," Dazai sighs against his mouth, and that nickname never tasted as sweet as it does right now, "If I /don't/ stop, we+
"Because, chibi," Dazai sighs against his mouth, and that nickname never tasted as sweet as it does right now, "If I /don't/ stop, we+
will spend /all day/ in the bedroom--" that sounds like the /opposite/ of a problem to Chuuya, really, "-- and we won't go get you the stuff you need."
That's /fine/, he doesn't really need it anyways, not right now at least, and if he takes his clothes off, he won't need any +
That's /fine/, he doesn't really need it anyways, not right now at least, and if he takes his clothes off, he won't need any +
more for a while, it's /fine/--
Dazai's hand firms on his face, holding him in place this time as he pulls away. The look on his face is smug--and why /shouldn't/ he be smug, because all it takes is a few minutes of kissing to have Chuuya trembling and needy-- and Chuuya tells +
Dazai's hand firms on his face, holding him in place this time as he pulls away. The look on his face is smug--and why /shouldn't/ he be smug, because all it takes is a few minutes of kissing to have Chuuya trembling and needy-- and Chuuya tells +
himself that the only reason he /isn't/ irritated by it is because he's distracted and /not/ because smug and confident looks /damn/ good on him.
"Be /patient/, brat. I didn't bring you to Osaka /just/ to fuck you."
God, the heat that /instantly/ drenches Chuuya from head to +
"Be /patient/, brat. I didn't bring you to Osaka /just/ to fuck you."
God, the heat that /instantly/ drenches Chuuya from head to +
toe from hearing Dazai curse /and/ the instant imagery that the words bring up--
It should be /illegal/.
"But--," he starts, hushed when Dazai's hand slides inward and covers his mouth.
"No buts. Shopping first, /then/ I'll have some fun with you. If you're good."
Chuuya +
It should be /illegal/.
"But--," he starts, hushed when Dazai's hand slides inward and covers his mouth.
"No buts. Shopping first, /then/ I'll have some fun with you. If you're good."
Chuuya +
is hearing that a /lot/ lately, and he can't deny the squirming feeling he gets in his belly whenever he hears it again.
He /likes/ being good. Dazai makes it so easy too, most of the time, and whenever he /succeeds/, he experiences this high. Like he's aced all his exams, like+
He /likes/ being good. Dazai makes it so easy too, most of the time, and whenever he /succeeds/, he experiences this high. Like he's aced all his exams, like+
he just won the game he's playing, like someone looked at him and went 'good job'.
And when it's /not/ easy, when he has to /struggle/ for it, god,it's even better. He loves winning, loves meeting expectations.
The expectations for /this/ are easy, though. All he has to do is+
And when it's /not/ easy, when he has to /struggle/ for it, god,it's even better. He loves winning, loves meeting expectations.
The expectations for /this/ are easy, though. All he has to do is+
go shopping, pick out a few things he likes, and then they'll be back at the hotel in a couple hours, right?
Then they'll 'have some fun'. It'll be quick /and/ easy, and then Chuuya gets the double reward of sex--Dazai /implied/ he would fuck him, which sets off molten +
Then they'll 'have some fun'. It'll be quick /and/ easy, and then Chuuya gets the double reward of sex--Dazai /implied/ he would fuck him, which sets off molten +
butterflies made of lava and electricity in his stomach-- /and/ he gets to succeed.
It'll be easy, right?
/Wrong/.
Dazai seems to take pushing him to his limits as a /challenge/, and the entire trip from the hotel room to the shopping mall is spent with his fingers flitting+
It'll be easy, right?
/Wrong/.
Dazai seems to take pushing him to his limits as a /challenge/, and the entire trip from the hotel room to the shopping mall is spent with his fingers flitting+
all over him.
One moment brushing over his arm, and then fixing his hair, and then curling around his waist to tug him closer, and then grabbing his hand, his thumb rubbing circles on the suddenly-sensitive skin on the back of his hand.
Chuuya feels /weak/ for it all, wound up+
One moment brushing over his arm, and then fixing his hair, and then curling around his waist to tug him closer, and then grabbing his hand, his thumb rubbing circles on the suddenly-sensitive skin on the back of his hand.
Chuuya feels /weak/ for it all, wound up+
from all the /hinting/.
Naturally, Dazai takes him to the /biggest/ department store in all of Osaka-- a medium-length train ride away, one that Chuuya spends plastered to Dazai's side with sneaky fingertips curled around his hip and dipping underneath the waistband of his +
Naturally, Dazai takes him to the /biggest/ department store in all of Osaka-- a medium-length train ride away, one that Chuuya spends plastered to Dazai's side with sneaky fingertips curled around his hip and dipping underneath the waistband of his +
jeans to rub /infuriatingly slowly/ over his hipbone-- which has so many stores Chuuya doesn't even recognize them.
He looks for one he recognizes, maybe one on the lower end of the price range so he can get this trip over with quickly and get to the /good stuff/--
Nope. Dazai+
He looks for one he recognizes, maybe one on the lower end of the price range so he can get this trip over with quickly and get to the /good stuff/--
Nope. Dazai+
pulls him into the nearest store before Chuuya can even catch the name.
When he opens his mouth to protest, Dazai squeezes his hip and sends him a warning look. "You said you wouldn't argue with me."
He actually didn't say that at all ever, but Chuuya gets the message and +
When he opens his mouth to protest, Dazai squeezes his hip and sends him a warning look. "You said you wouldn't argue with me."
He actually didn't say that at all ever, but Chuuya gets the message and +
closes his mouth.
This store has mostly clothes in it, with just a few small shelves dedicated to accessories, and a /tiny/ shoe selection in the back.
It's kind of funny, considering when Dazai /first/ took him shopping--on the market date, even though the only thing they got+
This store has mostly clothes in it, with just a few small shelves dedicated to accessories, and a /tiny/ shoe selection in the back.
It's kind of funny, considering when Dazai /first/ took him shopping--on the market date, even though the only thing they got+
was the leather jacket and the choker that Chuuya is wearing again-- he was more...
Passive. He liked the things Chuuya pointed out, and showed interest, but he let him explore mostly on his own.
/This/ time, Dazai heads straight to a rack full of jeans and starts rifling +
Passive. He liked the things Chuuya pointed out, and showed interest, but he let him explore mostly on his own.
/This/ time, Dazai heads straight to a rack full of jeans and starts rifling +
through them with a concentrated frown on his face.
The man doesn't even know his pants size--aside from looking at the tag when he had to wash Chuuya's clothes for him and /maybe/ being able to guess his size from when he had him naked and in his lap-- and he already looks so
The man doesn't even know his pants size--aside from looking at the tag when he had to wash Chuuya's clothes for him and /maybe/ being able to guess his size from when he had him naked and in his lap-- and he already looks so
/focused/, like this is the most important task he's had today.
It's endearing. A little overboard, considering they're just /clothes/, but it's cute that he cares so much.
Chuuya moves to a different rack, this one filled with shirts. A lot of them are medium-sleeved and +
It's endearing. A little overboard, considering they're just /clothes/, but it's cute that he cares so much.
Chuuya moves to a different rack, this one filled with shirts. A lot of them are medium-sleeved and +
boring, but there's a few that catch his eye. He pulls those out and hangs them over his arm to try on later.
"Baby," Dazai says, catching his attention.
Chuuya turns around, to see him holding up a pair of black jeans with a big rip in the thigh and the biggest pair of puppy
"Baby," Dazai says, catching his attention.
Chuuya turns around, to see him holding up a pair of black jeans with a big rip in the thigh and the biggest pair of puppy
eyes Chuuya has ever seen.
"Will you try these on for me?"
He eyes the jeans. They're a little more /risque/ than Chuuya normally wears--partly because he grew up with his father insisting that anything above the knee and shoulder was /scandalous/ and partly because he just
"Will you try these on for me?"
He eyes the jeans. They're a little more /risque/ than Chuuya normally wears--partly because he grew up with his father insisting that anything above the knee and shoulder was /scandalous/ and partly because he just
doesn't /own/ anything like that-- with the giant tear over the upper thigh, and the matching one lower down on the other leg.
But it's not like he can /deny/ Dazai when he looks like he'll do anything for Chuuya to say yes.
Stepping over, he takes the jeans in hand. They're
But it's not like he can /deny/ Dazai when he looks like he'll do anything for Chuuya to say yes.
Stepping over, he takes the jeans in hand. They're
only a size bigger than what he normally wears, though they do look a little too long. It's worth giving them a shot, even if only to make Dazai happy.
He adds them to the growing pile over his arm, and his reward is a bright, beaming smile from Dazai, complete with dimple.
He adds them to the growing pile over his arm, and his reward is a bright, beaming smile from Dazai, complete with dimple.
He adds another shirt to the pile--this one at Dazai's insistence, a red cropped one with a yellow sunflower in the middle-- and another pair of jeans before he heads over to the fitting rooms.
They need to be unlocked with a key, so Dazai goes to find an employee to help them.
They need to be unlocked with a key, so Dazai goes to find an employee to help them.
He returns a few moments later, trailed by a younger girl who is even smaller than Chuuya, who looks honestly /starstruck/.
Chuuya is starting to sense a pattern here, and he doesn't know how to feel about it. He /knows/ Dazai is appealing, obviously, but sometimes it's hard to
Chuuya is starting to sense a pattern here, and he doesn't know how to feel about it. He /knows/ Dazai is appealing, obviously, but sometimes it's hard to
tell if that's because he's /rich/--which is enough to make even the nastiest of people bearable-- or if it's because he's /hot/.
Probably both.
Don't get him wrong, he /likes/ having the attention of someone who is so attractive--makes him feel like he's /winning/, somehow--
Probably both.
Don't get him wrong, he /likes/ having the attention of someone who is so attractive--makes him feel like he's /winning/, somehow--
but it also brings to heart a feeling of invasive, lurking /insecurity/.
Because--
Why him? Really, Chuuya isn't anything /special/, he realizes that. He might look exotic with his red hair and blue eyes, but beyond that...
He doesn't know /why/ Dazai likes him. He's not
Because--
Why him? Really, Chuuya isn't anything /special/, he realizes that. He might look exotic with his red hair and blue eyes, but beyond that...
He doesn't know /why/ Dazai likes him. He's not
rich, or very smart, or has some cool talent, like being an artist. He's not even /experienced/, so it's not like he's rocking Dazai's world or anything like that.
He's /pretty/ sure Dazai actually likes him, because why else would he go through all the effort he's gone through?
He's /pretty/ sure Dazai actually likes him, because why else would he go through all the effort he's gone through?
If he just wanted sex, then he would've taken him home after their first dinner date. Chuuya certainly wouldn't have complained-- he wanted it too.
There's no need to do all this. No need to buy him a weeks worth of food, or take him to Osaka. No need to work him up to sex
There's no need to do all this. No need to buy him a weeks worth of food, or take him to Osaka. No need to work him up to sex
as slowly and /carefully/ as he has.
And while he's never made Chuuya feel like he /wasn't/ special--
Dazai also has never given any indication that this behavior was out of the norm for him. Maybe he takes all his flings on mini-vacations and buys them things. Maybe this is
And while he's never made Chuuya feel like he /wasn't/ special--
Dazai also has never given any indication that this behavior was out of the norm for him. Maybe he takes all his flings on mini-vacations and buys them things. Maybe this is
just what he /does/, wines and dines and romances all the people he's attracted to, before he eventually moves onto the next person. He can certainly afford it.
And Chuuya already must seem so /young/ to him, all the time, and he /doesn't/ want to add the stereotypical
And Chuuya already must seem so /young/ to him, all the time, and he /doesn't/ want to add the stereotypical
card of 'caught feelings even though the possibility of a relationship was never discussed or even on the table' to his bingo sheet.
Even though he /does/ have feelings for Dazai now. With how sweet, thoughtful, and /sexy/ he is, it'd be impossible not to, and Chuuya feels like
Even though he /does/ have feelings for Dazai now. With how sweet, thoughtful, and /sexy/ he is, it'd be impossible not to, and Chuuya feels like
he's choking on his heart half the time he talks to him.
But that doesn't mean that he feels the same way and really, what is stopping him--Chuuya watches as the girl unlocks the fitting room door for him, a friendly smile as she makes light conversation with Dazai--from moving
But that doesn't mean that he feels the same way and really, what is stopping him--Chuuya watches as the girl unlocks the fitting room door for him, a friendly smile as she makes light conversation with Dazai--from moving
onto someone /better/ than him, when he gets bored of Chuuya?
Nothing. Dazai can have anyone he wants.
"Chuuya?"
With a start, he looks up, broken from his thoughts. The girl is gone now, and Dazai is standing outside the open door to the fitting room, staring at him with a
Nothing. Dazai can have anyone he wants.
"Chuuya?"
With a start, he looks up, broken from his thoughts. The girl is gone now, and Dazai is standing outside the open door to the fitting room, staring at him with a
crease in his eyebrows. "Are you okay?"
Chuuya hikes the clothes up higher in his arms, offering a smile. "Yeah, I just got distracted."
Before he can embarass himself /further/-- or ask Dazai if he wants to come in and help him change--, Chuuya heads inside the room.
The
Chuuya hikes the clothes up higher in his arms, offering a smile. "Yeah, I just got distracted."
Before he can embarass himself /further/-- or ask Dazai if he wants to come in and help him change--, Chuuya heads inside the room.
The
door closes behind him with finality. He tries to leave his previous line of thinking outside the door as he strips his clothes off.
He tries on the pair of jeans he picked out first. They're looser than he expected, baggy on thighs. They're also /way/ too long, so long that he
He tries on the pair of jeans he picked out first. They're looser than he expected, baggy on thighs. They're also /way/ too long, so long that he
has to roll them up, and it's unflattering.
He throws those in the reject pile, and tries on the jeans Dazai picked out for him next.
Those are less long, and while the waist is a little big, the fit is /perfect/ around his ass and thighs. The large hole in them exposes most
He throws those in the reject pile, and tries on the jeans Dazai picked out for him next.
Those are less long, and while the waist is a little big, the fit is /perfect/ around his ass and thighs. The large hole in them exposes most
of his left thigh, but it looks nice, and he can see the way his muscles flex as he takes a step forward.
He tries on the red sunflower shirt Dazai offered him, and that one is /cute/. Makes his eyes stand out.
He /almost/ takes them both off again without showing Dazai before
He tries on the red sunflower shirt Dazai offered him, and that one is /cute/. Makes his eyes stand out.
He /almost/ takes them both off again without showing Dazai before
he realizes that would probably be /rude/. He is buying them, and he did pick these out specifically, so he should see them so he can make an opinion on them.
It feels a little nerve-wracking though.
Taking a deep breath for courage, he opens the door again and steps out.
It feels a little nerve-wracking though.
Taking a deep breath for courage, he opens the door again and steps out.
Dazai is leaning against the opposite wall, waiting patiently with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. His eyes light up when he sees Chuuya, focusing.
Unsure of what to do with himself, Chuuya gives a little spin so he can see the outfit from every angle. He feels
Unsure of what to do with himself, Chuuya gives a little spin so he can see the outfit from every angle. He feels
inexplicably /nervous/, even though it’s just an /outfit/. He’s never tried on clothes for someone he was /attracted/ to before.
Dazai’s gaze is like a living thing, heavy with weight and heat. It touches over his face, slides over his collarbones, trails downward, and every
Dazai’s gaze is like a living thing, heavy with weight and heat. It touches over his face, slides over his collarbones, trails downward, and every
place it falls on feels like it’s been set on /fire/.
Chuuya feels drawn taut, spread out underneath his gaze and feeling like he should offer /more/ of himself, give himself up to that irresistible gaze—
His eyes find his thighs, and Chuuya doesn’t know if Dazai /meant/
Chuuya feels drawn taut, spread out underneath his gaze and feeling like he should offer /more/ of himself, give himself up to that irresistible gaze—
His eyes find his thighs, and Chuuya doesn’t know if Dazai /meant/
to slowly lick his lip at that exact moment or if it just /happened/ but either way—
He wants this shopping trip to be over /now/, so he can finally get his hands on Dazai for the first time in /weeks/, he’s so desperate he could /beg/—
“How do you feel about skirts?”
He wants this shopping trip to be over /now/, so he can finally get his hands on Dazai for the first time in /weeks/, he’s so desperate he could /beg/—
“How do you feel about skirts?”
Chuuya hesitates a little. Admittedly, he's never been the most /masculine/ man, especially growing up as he did but--
"Don't I have to be...girlier for those?"
(Dazai is /very/ careful to keep his expression from changing visibly.
This, like /many/ other things,
"Don't I have to be...girlier for those?"
(Dazai is /very/ careful to keep his expression from changing visibly.
This, like /many/ other things,
is not a conversation they have had quite yet. The poor thing /must/ be so confused, Dazai really needs to start /talking/ to him.
He'd...
Well, based on the way Chuuya dressed and acted, he'd /assumed/ that he enjoyed traditionally feminine things, but he doesn't know if it
He'd...
Well, based on the way Chuuya dressed and acted, he'd /assumed/ that he enjoyed traditionally feminine things, but he doesn't know if it
goes beyond that. If it hinted at something deeper underneath, something they haven't talked about.
This was partly a /test/, to subtly let Chuuya know that it was okay if he liked feminine things but--
Now he's thinking he read too far into it?)
"No, not if you don't want to
This was partly a /test/, to subtly let Chuuya know that it was okay if he liked feminine things but--
Now he's thinking he read too far into it?)
"No, not if you don't want to
be."
Something about that, the simple confidence behind the statement, makes Chuuya pause.
He's spent so long defending himself that liking makeup and fashion doesn't make him any /less/ of a man, that he never actually considered if he /wanted/ to be anything different than
Something about that, the simple confidence behind the statement, makes Chuuya pause.
He's spent so long defending himself that liking makeup and fashion doesn't make him any /less/ of a man, that he never actually considered if he /wanted/ to be anything different than
that.
He knew it was an option, he just didn't really compute that it was an option for /him/.
Frankly, the idea of that makes him feel...
Weird.
He doesn't know if it's bad-weird, or good-weird or just new-weird, but he puts /those/ thoughts out of his mind and focuses on
He knew it was an option, he just didn't really compute that it was an option for /him/.
Frankly, the idea of that makes him feel...
Weird.
He doesn't know if it's bad-weird, or good-weird or just new-weird, but he puts /those/ thoughts out of his mind and focuses on
what he /does/ know, things he doesn't have to think about:
He likes feeling pretty. Likes to /look/ pretty, and dressed up, and like he's put effort into what he looks like. /Especially/ likes the idea of looking good for Dazai, in clothes /he/ bought and picked out for him.
He likes feeling pretty. Likes to /look/ pretty, and dressed up, and like he's put effort into what he looks like. /Especially/ likes the idea of looking good for Dazai, in clothes /he/ bought and picked out for him.
And if he brought it up first, then that must mean Dazai likes the idea of it, right?
As always, with that pair of brown eyes on him, the tiny, /daring/ tilt to Dazai's mouth--
Chuuya feels /bold/, invincible. "I'm okay with them-- but I don't know how to pick them out."
As always, with that pair of brown eyes on him, the tiny, /daring/ tilt to Dazai's mouth--
Chuuya feels /bold/, invincible. "I'm okay with them-- but I don't know how to pick them out."
The smile he gets for that is sweet, simmering with heat. "I can help with that. You have /gorgeous/ legs. It'd be a shame not to show them off."
How Dazai manages to say things like that without even a shred of shame or hesitation, Chuuya will never know.
He ducks back into
How Dazai manages to say things like that without even a shred of shame or hesitation, Chuuya will never know.
He ducks back into
the fitting room so he can hide the rising blush on his cheeks.
He tries on two more shirts, but both of those look bad on him so he doesn't even bother showing Dazai. He throws them straight into the reject pile before he eventually changes back into his own clothes.
He tries on two more shirts, but both of those look bad on him so he doesn't even bother showing Dazai. He throws them straight into the reject pile before he eventually changes back into his own clothes.
When he opens the door again, he's expecting Dazai to be waiting outside, and he is, except--
He'd left at some point, and came back with /three/ different skirts draped over his arm.
How did he find those so quickly? Did he already have them picked out, and was just waiting to
He'd left at some point, and came back with /three/ different skirts draped over his arm.
How did he find those so quickly? Did he already have them picked out, and was just waiting to
see what he said to get them off the rack? Did he just grab the first ones he saw?
(It /does/ make him feel better, that Dazai picked them out before he even had to look at them, because if he had to look at all the different options and styles, he might've realized that he has
(It /does/ make him feel better, that Dazai picked them out before he even had to look at them, because if he had to look at all the different options and styles, he might've realized that he has
no idea what he’s doing or what looks good on him, and he might chicken out.)
The first one is a high waisted red one with a tie so he can adjust the waist size. It looks flowy, like those skirts that twirl when you spin.
The /next/ one is clearly a tight mini-skirt, and it’s
The first one is a high waisted red one with a tie so he can adjust the waist size. It looks flowy, like those skirts that twirl when you spin.
The /next/ one is clearly a tight mini-skirt, and it’s
in a beige-plaid pattern that almost looks like the tighter, shorter version of a school uniform.
The last one is pitch black, and laces up the side. Chuuya can already tell that he’d have to wear /tiny/ underwear or none at /all/ with that one.
Dazai holds them out to him,
The last one is pitch black, and laces up the side. Chuuya can already tell that he’d have to wear /tiny/ underwear or none at /all/ with that one.
Dazai holds them out to him,
looking as innocent as the cat who found the cream.
When Chuuya moves to take them, he holds onto them for a moment longer, making him pause. “You don’t have to show me what they look like,” he says slowly, expression open and genuine.
Eyebrows drawing together in confusion,
When Chuuya moves to take them, he holds onto them for a moment longer, making him pause. “You don’t have to show me what they look like,” he says slowly, expression open and genuine.
Eyebrows drawing together in confusion,
Chuuya replies, “Don’t you want to see me in them though? Isn’t that why you suggested them?”
Dazai takes his hands back and pushes them into the pockets of his jeans, rocking back slightly on his heels. “I /do/— but only if you’re comfortable with that. Only if you want me to
Dazai takes his hands back and pushes them into the pockets of his jeans, rocking back slightly on his heels. “I /do/— but only if you’re comfortable with that. Only if you want me to
to see them. No pressure.”
Well...alright then. That does soothe some strange, small part of Chuuya that was worried he’d look /bad/.
This time, Dazai lets him take the clothes and move back into the fitting room.
He puts the red-sunflower shirt back on, because it’s
Well...alright then. That does soothe some strange, small part of Chuuya that was worried he’d look /bad/.
This time, Dazai lets him take the clothes and move back into the fitting room.
He puts the red-sunflower shirt back on, because it’s
pretty than his neutral-gray shirt he’s wearing, and it’ll look nicer.
He tries the plaid one on first, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. It /feels/ nice, soft and stretchy. It’s tighter and looser in way different ways than any pair of jeans he’s ever worn and even
He tries the plaid one on first, avoiding looking at himself in the mirror. It /feels/ nice, soft and stretchy. It’s tighter and looser in way different ways than any pair of jeans he’s ever worn and even
though it hugs his hips and thighs, it still feels... risky, almost?
Like he might take a step too long or bend over too far and he might flash the entire street.
Is this what people go through when they wear skirts? Always wondering if the fabric is going to ride up, always
Like he might take a step too long or bend over too far and he might flash the entire street.
Is this what people go through when they wear skirts? Always wondering if the fabric is going to ride up, always
having to adjust their walking or posture to make sure it stays perfectly in place?
Though...
He /does/ have to admit that the view /does/ make it worth it, at least a little bit.
His legs look longer now, calling attention to the way his thighs flex and ripple with every
Though...
He /does/ have to admit that the view /does/ make it worth it, at least a little bit.
His legs look longer now, calling attention to the way his thighs flex and ripple with every
movement. It emphasizes the curve of his hips and the cut of his waist.And based on how tight it is around his thighs--
It makes his ass look /fantastic/.
Okay, there are /definitely/ perks to wearing these, though he should prepare more before the /next/ time he wears a skirt.
It makes his ass look /fantastic/.
Okay, there are /definitely/ perks to wearing these, though he should prepare more before the /next/ time he wears a skirt.
The blonde-red hair on his legs has never been /too/ noticeable because of it's light color, but now the light reflecting off the strands makes him look and feel a little /inelegant/.
Like he's not doing his skirt--and outfit--/justice/.
Not to mention that he is still wearing
Like he's not doing his skirt--and outfit--/justice/.
Not to mention that he is still wearing
his boxer-briefs-- which are rather short and tight-- but it utterly /ruins/ the line of the skirt. He can see the waistband and where the fabric bunches up underneath clearly.
Suddenly, the idea of thongs makes so much more sense.
He doesn't try on the black laced skirt. He
Suddenly, the idea of thongs makes so much more sense.
He doesn't try on the black laced skirt. He
can tell it's size-adjustable based on the lacing, and he wants to do it /justice/ the first time he tries it on. He's not going to try on a skirt without underwear without buying and washing it first.
The red one though...
That one makes him feel /cute/. It flows around his
The red one though...
That one makes him feel /cute/. It flows around his
legs, and flares out when he does a spin. It's not as revealing as the other two, because it drapes down instead of hugging his figure, but the little bow on the side is cute. The shirt isn't the /exact/ same shade of red, but it's close enough.
It makes him feel like one of
It makes him feel like one of
those love interests in a /movie/ or a book. Like he's special and pretty and someone people pay attention to.
Why doesn't /everyone/ wear skirts, they're so fun. And much less restrictive than jeans!
He was too shy Dazai the plaid one, but he wants to show him /this/ one.
Why doesn't /everyone/ wear skirts, they're so fun. And much less restrictive than jeans!
He was too shy Dazai the plaid one, but he wants to show him /this/ one.
The door is unlocked and swinging open before he can remember that he was even shy in the first place.
Dazai is still leaning against the wall in the same spot. This time, he has his phone in hand and scrolling absently as he waits.
He looks up, pretty obviously /not/ expecting
Dazai is still leaning against the wall in the same spot. This time, he has his phone in hand and scrolling absently as he waits.
He looks up, pretty obviously /not/ expecting
Chuuya to step out wearing the skirt because for a moment, his expression just looks--
Starstruck. Stunned, in a /good/ way, like he can't believe what he's seeing is real.
Chuuya spins for him again, smiling at the way the skirt flares out wide before swishing around his legs.
Starstruck. Stunned, in a /good/ way, like he can't believe what he's seeing is real.
Chuuya spins for him again, smiling at the way the skirt flares out wide before swishing around his legs.
"I like this one," he declares, chin held high like he's daring Dazai to disagree.
He doesn't, of course. Instead, his expression softens into something that makes Chuuya's heart throb in his chest.
The phone disappears into his pocket as he pushes off the wall, approaching.
He doesn't, of course. Instead, his expression softens into something that makes Chuuya's heart throb in his chest.
The phone disappears into his pocket as he pushes off the wall, approaching.
His eyes take him in from his socks to the top of his head, somehow softer and warmer all at once. It doesn't feel evaluating or /judging/--
It feels like he's trying to commit the sight of him to memory.
"I knew you'd look beautiful in red," he murmurs, reaching out to pull
It feels like he's trying to commit the sight of him to memory.
"I knew you'd look beautiful in red," he murmurs, reaching out to pull
his hair from over his shoulder. He touches him like something precious and gentle, winding one of curls around his finger and rubbing his thumb over it with a fond smile.
Mouth parted, Chuuya stares up at him, aching with a feeling too big for words, on the verge of some
Mouth parted, Chuuya stares up at him, aching with a feeling too big for words, on the verge of some
internal revelation,like he's standing at a ledge and ready to free fall,uncaring about the consequences--
He never realized how /expressive/ brown eyes could be until Dazai was looking at him like this--
Which, naturally, is exactly when the employee girl from earlier returns.
He never realized how /expressive/ brown eyes could be until Dazai was looking at him like this--
Which, naturally, is exactly when the employee girl from earlier returns.
"Do you guys need any help back here--," she starts, tone friendly and upbeat before she seems to notice what Chuuya is /wearing/. "Oh."
She pauses, expression twisting into something like restrained disgust, and Chuuya feels /small/.
"I don't..." she continues again, obviously
She pauses, expression twisting into something like restrained disgust, and Chuuya feels /small/.
"I don't..." she continues again, obviously
struggling with what she wants to say. Her expression says it all though.
Dazai takes a step in her direction, shoulders squaring. It's easy to forget how /broad/ the man is until he's practically looming over the girl, shielding Chuuya from view. "/I/ don't recall asking for
Dazai takes a step in her direction, shoulders squaring. It's easy to forget how /broad/ the man is until he's practically looming over the girl, shielding Chuuya from view. "/I/ don't recall asking for
assistance, so while I'm sure you have an... /interesting/ opinion, I can assure you that it is unnecessary and unwanted."
Chuuya has /never/ heard Dazai sound like that, cold and cutting, whip-thin. He's glad he's not speaking to /him/ that way, because it feels like it would
Chuuya has /never/ heard Dazai sound like that, cold and cutting, whip-thin. He's glad he's not speaking to /him/ that way, because it feels like it would
leave /scars/.
The girls eyes narrow. "He can't--."
Dazai cuts her off again, and while his /smile/ is distantly polite, his eyes flash with cold anger. "I'm sure your manager has told you that customers can do whatever they want as long as their money is good, no?"
She looks
The girls eyes narrow. "He can't--."
Dazai cuts her off again, and while his /smile/ is distantly polite, his eyes flash with cold anger. "I'm sure your manager has told you that customers can do whatever they want as long as their money is good, no?"
She looks
thrown off guard for a second, opening her mouth to protest. No words come out.
"I would be /terribly/ disappointed if we had to go elsewhere for our shopping. So disappointed, in fact, that it would only be fair to call your manager and let them know that even though I /adore/
"I would be /terribly/ disappointed if we had to go elsewhere for our shopping. So disappointed, in fact, that it would only be fair to call your manager and let them know that even though I /adore/
this store, I was forced to shop somewhere else due to the behavior of--" his eyes drop to the nametag on her shirt, "--Yui. I'm sure they'll be /delighted/ to hear my opinion on the matter."
By the slight paling of her face and the way her expression struggles between anger and
By the slight paling of her face and the way her expression struggles between anger and
disbelief, she doesn't feel the same way. She looks pretty young, so getting a decent job in the best mall in Osaka must've been difficult, and /keeping/ it probably relies on her attracting in new customers and keeping them.
With a final sniff like she's doing /them/ a favor,
With a final sniff like she's doing /them/ a favor,
she retreats.
(Dazai watches her go with a sense of burning satisfaction, but he /also/ knows that their time in this store is up, and they need to leave before another scene occurs.
Not that he /opposes/ to scenes, and not because he can't handle it--
But because he doesn't
(Dazai watches her go with a sense of burning satisfaction, but he /also/ knows that their time in this store is up, and they need to leave before another scene occurs.
Not that he /opposes/ to scenes, and not because he can't handle it--
But because he doesn't
want to see that hurt, insecure,appalled look on Chuuya's face /ever/ again.)
Dazai turns back to him, expression drawn with concern.
Chuuya is still reeling from the emotional whiplash of feeling so good and then being plunged into the crawling sense of doing something /wrong/
Dazai turns back to him, expression drawn with concern.
Chuuya is still reeling from the emotional whiplash of feeling so good and then being plunged into the crawling sense of doing something /wrong/
and /then/ watching Dazai easily and effortlessly defend him from something he /could’ve/ defended himself from but he didn’t /have/ to because Dazai was there first—
So all he can do is stare up at him wordlessly, as Dazai’s posture melts from something angry into something
So all he can do is stare up at him wordlessly, as Dazai’s posture melts from something angry into something
protective.
Chuuya has had people comment on his makeup and the way he dresses before, but those were mostly /men/ or the older generation.
He hasn’t had a girl /his/ age before be so rude about it.
“Do you like this one?” Dazai asks, reaching over to smooth down a wrinkle
Chuuya has had people comment on his makeup and the way he dresses before, but those were mostly /men/ or the older generation.
He hasn’t had a girl /his/ age before be so rude about it.
“Do you like this one?” Dazai asks, reaching over to smooth down a wrinkle
that had formed over his hip.
The casual question jumpstarts Chuuya’s brain, makes him think again instead of just feeling emotions. “Yeah,” he mutters, “well, all of them them actually.”
“All of them?” Dazai repeats, pride filtering through his voice. He looks so pleased
The casual question jumpstarts Chuuya’s brain, makes him think again instead of just feeling emotions. “Yeah,” he mutters, “well, all of them them actually.”
“All of them?” Dazai repeats, pride filtering through his voice. He looks so pleased
with himself, lips turning up.
Huffing, Chuuya slaps at his arm lightly. “Don’t look so /smug/, it’s just clothes.”
“It’s /much/ more than that to me, doll.”
What does /that/ mean?
Before Chuuya can figure it out— or ask—, Dazai is nodding towards the fitting room again.
Huffing, Chuuya slaps at his arm lightly. “Don’t look so /smug/, it’s just clothes.”
“It’s /much/ more than that to me, doll.”
What does /that/ mean?
Before Chuuya can figure it out— or ask—, Dazai is nodding towards the fitting room again.
“Go get dressed,” he says, that casual tone of command easily slipping into his voice. “We’ll get you whatever you’ve picked out, and then we’ll go somewhere else.”
There’s something about the way he takes charge so /easily/, without hesitation and without force, that makes it
There’s something about the way he takes charge so /easily/, without hesitation and without force, that makes it
so easily to listen to him. Chuuya doesn’t /have/ to do what he says, but it feels so natural when he does.
Changing back into his street clothes takes only a few minutes, and he has to admit—
He does miss the soft fabrics of the clothes he tried on. He never realized how
Changing back into his street clothes takes only a few minutes, and he has to admit—
He does miss the soft fabrics of the clothes he tried on. He never realized how
rough his own clothes were until the comparison.
They go up to the front afterwards, and luckily the employee at the cash register is someone different than the rude girl.
This one is a boy, and he looks incredibly and politely /bored/, like he’s seen it all and he doesn’t
They go up to the front afterwards, and luckily the employee at the cash register is someone different than the rude girl.
This one is a boy, and he looks incredibly and politely /bored/, like he’s seen it all and he doesn’t
care anymore.
Chuuya hasn’t had a job yet— his father didn’t allow him to get one because he needed to be focusing on his schoolwork— but he understands the sentiment.
The rest of the shopping trip goes pretty similarly. They visit half a dozen stores, each one different than
Chuuya hasn’t had a job yet— his father didn’t allow him to get one because he needed to be focusing on his schoolwork— but he understands the sentiment.
The rest of the shopping trip goes pretty similarly. They visit half a dozen stores, each one different than
the last.
Some of them have more shoes than clothing, and Chuuya finally gets to be a little closer to Dazai’s height when he finds a pair of heels. He’s just tall enough for Dazai to rest his chin on his head, which he does when Chuuya insists on taking pictures in the mirror.
Some of them have more shoes than clothing, and Chuuya finally gets to be a little closer to Dazai’s height when he finds a pair of heels. He’s just tall enough for Dazai to rest his chin on his head, which he does when Chuuya insists on taking pictures in the mirror.
(And because he’s /petty/, he crops the picture so you can just barely see Dazai’s smile on top of his head, and makes sure there’s no other distinguishing features before posting it on his Snapchat story.
Shuuji has been sending him snaps of picturesque views to him all
Shuuji has been sending him snaps of picturesque views to him all
morning, with the captions being variations of ‘dont u wish u were here lol’ and then posting things like his ridiculously luxurious breakfast to his story so—
Chuuya gets a /little/ smug satisfaction at making him look at a picture of him being happy with his /dad/, even if
Chuuya gets a /little/ smug satisfaction at making him look at a picture of him being happy with his /dad/, even if
he won’t /know/ it.
Okay, so maybe he’s a little bitter about how elegant and beautiful Shuuji’s mother looks in some of his stories but—
Dazai’s in Osaka with /him/, buying /him/ clothes, so that means he’s winning.)
They don’t go /overboard/, but Dazai does end up buying
Okay, so maybe he’s a little bitter about how elegant and beautiful Shuuji’s mother looks in some of his stories but—
Dazai’s in Osaka with /him/, buying /him/ clothes, so that means he’s winning.)
They don’t go /overboard/, but Dazai does end up buying
him one or two things for every store. Some of the stores have a delivery service, and he arranges for the items to be sent back to their hotel room.
Others don’t, and he ends up carrying the bags on his wrist.
(There /is/ a lingerie store hidden deeper in the mall, and
Others don’t, and he ends up carrying the bags on his wrist.
(There /is/ a lingerie store hidden deeper in the mall, and
Dazai lingers around the doorway deliberately, waiting to see if Chuuya will say anything or move to go inside.
He doesn’t want to /push/ him, but there’s a lovely blue babydoll displayed in the window and he wants to see Chuuya in it /so/ bad.
But Chuuya moves onto the next
He doesn’t want to /push/ him, but there’s a lovely blue babydoll displayed in the window and he wants to see Chuuya in it /so/ bad.
But Chuuya moves onto the next
store without saying anything so...
Next time, Dazai pouts himself silently, and follows.)
If he had to say, the jewelry store is probably one of Chuuya’s favorites. Clothes and shoes are nice, obviously, but he /loves/ to accessorize. Nothing brings an outfit together like a
Next time, Dazai pouts himself silently, and follows.)
If he had to say, the jewelry store is probably one of Chuuya’s favorites. Clothes and shoes are nice, obviously, but he /loves/ to accessorize. Nothing brings an outfit together like a
pair of earrings or a bracelet or—
He startles a little when something passes in front of his face. He looks up, finding the mirror—
Only to see Dazai holding a golden necklace loosely around his neck.
From it, hangs a tiny, golden /D/, written in cursive.
He startles a little when something passes in front of his face. He looks up, finding the mirror—
Only to see Dazai holding a golden necklace loosely around his neck.
From it, hangs a tiny, golden /D/, written in cursive.
It makes sense, why something like that is here, because the mall is a popular tourist trap, and all the American tourists must go /wild/ over seeing their English initials on Japanese merchandise.
It's a little surprising that /Dazai/ picked it out though, something so simple
It's a little surprising that /Dazai/ picked it out though, something so simple
and subtle compared to the other expensive-looking jewels in the store. Chuuya wouldn't know how to feel if he offered up one of the large necklaces that dripped with fat diamonds.
He doesn't miss that it has his /initial/ on it, and that, the idea of wearing the clothes he
He doesn't miss that it has his /initial/ on it, and that, the idea of wearing the clothes he
bought for him and a necklace with /his/ initial on it--
Makes him feel owned, in a /good/ way. Claimed. /Possessed/.
(Little does he know, Dazai is envisioning a slightly-similar situation. Except in /his/ imagination, Chuuya is wearing a slightly thicker version of the choker
Makes him feel owned, in a /good/ way. Claimed. /Possessed/.
(Little does he know, Dazai is envisioning a slightly-similar situation. Except in /his/ imagination, Chuuya is wearing a slightly thicker version of the choker
he's wearing now, one that takes up his /entire/ neck, so no one misses how beautiful it is--
Or the /ownership/ of the gesture.
That one would have a metal loop on it, or maybe an O-ring, somewhere where Dazai could attach leashes, jewelry, /tags/.
Maybe a little tag that
Or the /ownership/ of the gesture.
That one would have a metal loop on it, or maybe an O-ring, somewhere where Dazai could attach leashes, jewelry, /tags/.
Maybe a little tag that
says baby, or Dazai, or--
/Daddy/.
He /likes/ that image, so much that he pins the idea in his mind to save for /later/. He'll work him up to it, because Chuuya has been /beautifully/ responsive to every new step in their relationship.
But for now, this is enough.)
The chain
/Daddy/.
He /likes/ that image, so much that he pins the idea in his mind to save for /later/. He'll work him up to it, because Chuuya has been /beautifully/ responsive to every new step in their relationship.
But for now, this is enough.)
The chain
is thin and made of gold. It's a little tighter than he expected, leaving the charm dangling just underneath the base of his throat.
"What do you think?" Dazai says above him, voice dark and heady. It drips over him, wraps around him, making the rest of the world slip away.
"What do you think?" Dazai says above him, voice dark and heady. It drips over him, wraps around him, making the rest of the world slip away.
"It's pretty," he breathes, eyes caught by the sight of them in the mirror. He's all fiery red's and blues himself, like the burning sun, and Dazai is the shadow that follows in his path.
They make a beautiful pair, opposite but melded together.
"You are," Dazai agrees easily,
They make a beautiful pair, opposite but melded together.
"You are," Dazai agrees easily,
eyes sparkling.
He always takes /every/ opportunity to compliment Chuuya, like he's made it his personal mission to banish every insecurity with endless sweet words and flattery.
And you know? It /works/. Chuuya has never felt so beautiful or wanted until he had Dazai's
He always takes /every/ opportunity to compliment Chuuya, like he's made it his personal mission to banish every insecurity with endless sweet words and flattery.
And you know? It /works/. Chuuya has never felt so beautiful or wanted until he had Dazai's
attention on him. Until he had /this/--whatever this is between them, the thing that grows by the day, something that feels so natural and easy to fall into.
"Can I have it?" He asks, unable to look away from Dazai in the mirror. He already knows the answer, because Dazai has
"Can I have it?" He asks, unable to look away from Dazai in the mirror. He already knows the answer, because Dazai has
/never/ denied him, not when he's said he wants something and definitely never when he's /asked/ for it.
True to form, Dazai gently clasps it around his neck. He peels off the tag hanging off it using his nails. "If you want it, it's yours," he repeats, a throwback to the times
True to form, Dazai gently clasps it around his neck. He peels off the tag hanging off it using his nails. "If you want it, it's yours," he repeats, a throwback to the times
he said it /before/.
It has more meaning now, because Chuuya wants /him/, and they both know it, and Dazai is all too eager to give into him.
The necklace is bought, along with a pair of shiny earrings in the shape of dangling butterflies.
Dazai snorts a little bit when he
It has more meaning now, because Chuuya wants /him/, and they both know it, and Dazai is all too eager to give into him.
The necklace is bought, along with a pair of shiny earrings in the shape of dangling butterflies.
Dazai snorts a little bit when he
sees the design of it, like he's remembering something funny, but Chuuya doesn't get the joke.
That's the last store they visit. They /could/ shop more, considering the mall is open for a few hours longer but--
The only thing Chuuya has eaten today was a snack from the food
That's the last store they visit. They /could/ shop more, considering the mall is open for a few hours longer but--
The only thing Chuuya has eaten today was a snack from the food
court in the mall, and that was light. He was too excited for breakfast when he woke up, so he hasn't eaten much all day. It's getting close to dinner time, and the sun is starting to go down.
It wouldn't bother him, really, and he wouldn't have even said anything, except that
It wouldn't bother him, really, and he wouldn't have even said anything, except that
his stomach growls embarrassingly loud. Loudly enough that it catches Dazai's attention during a lull in conversation.
"Hungry?"
It's not like he can /deny/ it, so he nods sheepishly.
Dazai smiles at him again, offering his free hand. "Let's go back then. Do you want room
"Hungry?"
It's not like he can /deny/ it, so he nods sheepishly.
Dazai smiles at him again, offering his free hand. "Let's go back then. Do you want room
service or to go to a restaurant?"
"Room service," Chuuya answers immediately. He hasn't had the chance to try out /luxury/ room service before, and it always looked ridiculously delicious in the movies.
Besides, if he has to wait even /longer/ to be alone with Dazai, he swears
"Room service," Chuuya answers immediately. He hasn't had the chance to try out /luxury/ room service before, and it always looked ridiculously delicious in the movies.
Besides, if he has to wait even /longer/ to be alone with Dazai, he swears
he's going to go insane. The last restaurant date had enough sexual tension to last him a lifetime.
There's a knowing glint in Dazai's eyes as he steers Chuuya out of the mall, but he doesn't say anything about it. He just nods.
The train ride back in somehow even longer and
There's a knowing glint in Dazai's eyes as he steers Chuuya out of the mall, but he doesn't say anything about it. He just nods.
The train ride back in somehow even longer and
more agonizing than the first. Dazai won't let him hold a single shopping bag for himself, so he's stuck holding onto a nearby railing and just...
/Waiting/ for the ride to end. Waiting to get back to the hotel so they can finally get to the /good/ part, the part that he's been
/Waiting/ for the ride to end. Waiting to get back to the hotel so they can finally get to the /good/ part, the part that he's been
waiting for for /weeks/. His entire life, it feels like.
The sidewalks are packed now, which slows their journey once they get off at their station. Chuuya feels an insane urge to start shouting at people to get out of his way, he has somewhere /important/ to be, /move/.
The sidewalks are packed now, which slows their journey once they get off at their station. Chuuya feels an insane urge to start shouting at people to get out of his way, he has somewhere /important/ to be, /move/.
Eventually the hotel comes back into view, and Chuuya practically skips ahead, drawing ahead of Dazai even though the older man has a longer stride and a faster pace, normally.
He doesn't even care that he's so visibly excited, because he can barely contain himself. He's hungry
He doesn't even care that he's so visibly excited, because he can barely contain himself. He's hungry
in all /sorts/ of ways.
For food, for /Dazai/, for the intoxicating way he makes him feel, the heights he brings him to.
He holds the door open for him, ignoring the smirk and the smug air radiating off Dazai. This time, he has right to be self-satisfied.
The elevator ride up
For food, for /Dazai/, for the intoxicating way he makes him feel, the heights he brings him to.
He holds the door open for him, ignoring the smirk and the smug air radiating off Dazai. This time, he has right to be self-satisfied.
The elevator ride up
is somehow longer and shorter than the first time, and he /swears/ Dazai takes his sweet time stepping off when they arrive at the top floor.
Chuuya is half-hoping that he’ll be turned around and pinned against the door as soon as he steps inside, and he wants it so bad he
Chuuya is half-hoping that he’ll be turned around and pinned against the door as soon as he steps inside, and he wants it so bad he
is already imagining the weight of hands on his shoulders, Dazai’s leg between his thigh—
“Do you want to take a shower while we wait? I’ll order room service now, but I’m sure it’ll take a little.”
That’s... a good idea, considering he didn’t shower this morning and he’s
“Do you want to take a shower while we wait? I’ll order room service now, but I’m sure it’ll take a little.”
That’s... a good idea, considering he didn’t shower this morning and he’s
been waking around in the heat all day. He wouldn’t say he’s /gross/, but cleaning up would be nice.
Especially if he plans on getting /intimate/ with Dazai. He wants his mouth all over him.
“Come in with me?” He asks, blinking up at him with the biggest, most pleasing eyes
Especially if he plans on getting /intimate/ with Dazai. He wants his mouth all over him.
“Come in with me?” He asks, blinking up at him with the biggest, most pleasing eyes
he can make. He knows Dazai said no /last/ time, but that was last time. Maybe things have changed since then?
He can only hope, because the idea of Dazai’s wet, naked body pressed up behind him, is tantalizing. He wants it, badly.
With a hum, Dazai sets their bags down in the
He can only hope, because the idea of Dazai’s wet, naked body pressed up behind him, is tantalizing. He wants it, badly.
With a hum, Dazai sets their bags down in the
hallway. He turns around then, stalking closer.
Chuuya backs up instinctively, matching Dazai’s pace until the door meets his back and he realizes that he’s /trapped/.
It feels /dangerous/, not in a way that makes him scared but in a way that makes him /breathless/.
Dazai
Chuuya backs up instinctively, matching Dazai’s pace until the door meets his back and he realizes that he’s /trapped/.
It feels /dangerous/, not in a way that makes him scared but in a way that makes him /breathless/.
Dazai
steps closer, /closest/, the heat of his body pouring off him.
With just the tip of his finger, he tips Chuuya’s chin up, guiding him to look at him directly.
With him so close like this, he /looms/ over him, blocking out the entire world, until the only thing Chuuya can
With just the tip of his finger, he tips Chuuya’s chin up, guiding him to look at him directly.
With him so close like this, he /looms/ over him, blocking out the entire world, until the only thing Chuuya can
see are his eyes and his kissable lips, growing closer, /closer/.
“Tempting, little siren,” Dazai pauses /just/ above his mouth to murmur, lips curving with satisfaction when Chuuya rises up on his toes.
His reward is a kiss, long and lingering. It feels like a prelude to
“Tempting, little siren,” Dazai pauses /just/ above his mouth to murmur, lips curving with satisfaction when Chuuya rises up on his toes.
His reward is a kiss, long and lingering. It feels like a prelude to
/more/, a taste-test. The beginning.
Chuuya surges upward, as high as he can, slinging his arms around his neck to keep him in place. He kisses Dazai a little deeper, with more desperation as the waiting heat in his belly starts to ignite—
“But no,” Dazai continues, breaking
Chuuya surges upward, as high as he can, slinging his arms around his neck to keep him in place. He kisses Dazai a little deeper, with more desperation as the waiting heat in his belly starts to ignite—
“But no,” Dazai continues, breaking
away. “I still have to order, and /someone/ has to open the door for the food.”
It’s practical but it still makes Chuuya sag with disappointment.
Dazai whirls them around, placing him firmly in the hallway and pushing him in the direction of the back hallway he has yet to
It’s practical but it still makes Chuuya sag with disappointment.
Dazai whirls them around, placing him firmly in the hallway and pushing him in the direction of the back hallway he has yet to
explore.
“Go shower. I’ll be waiting.”
With a humph, Chuuya turns around to leave—
A hand smacks his ass, not hard enough to /hurt/ but definitely enough to be /felt/ and to make his eyes widen with shock.
“Go shower. I’ll be waiting.”
With a humph, Chuuya turns around to leave—
A hand smacks his ass, not hard enough to /hurt/ but definitely enough to be /felt/ and to make his eyes widen with shock.
When he whips his head around, Dazai is /already/ turned around and heading into the living room, posture loose like he’s /innocent/.
Did... did he just /spank/ him? Just like that? No warning, nothing?
That’s not /fair/, because even the light impact feels like it lingers.
Did... did he just /spank/ him? Just like that? No warning, nothing?
That’s not /fair/, because even the light impact feels like it lingers.
Like the heat after getting a smack in Kendo class, sensation that sinks into the skin and grows there.
He kind of wants it /again/. Harder, this time, hard enough that he can feel it in his /whole/ body.
He’s glad Dazai is looking at the menu offered for room service,
He kind of wants it /again/. Harder, this time, hard enough that he can feel it in his /whole/ body.
He’s glad Dazai is looking at the menu offered for room service,
because he can already tell his face is flaming red.
There’s two bedrooms in the hallway— one smaller, obviously meant to be a ‘guest’ room— and it’s /nice/, decked out in solid greys and blues. It has a small window, but it doesn’t offer much of a view.
Since he doesn’t see
There’s two bedrooms in the hallway— one smaller, obviously meant to be a ‘guest’ room— and it’s /nice/, decked out in solid greys and blues. It has a small window, but it doesn’t offer much of a view.
Since he doesn’t see
either of their bags in that one, Chuuya moves onto the next—
The ‘master’ bedroom is /much/ bigger than the first one, big enough that one of Chuuya’s classrooms could probably fit into it.
There’s a large dresser along the way, and an entire couch and TV set up on the far
The ‘master’ bedroom is /much/ bigger than the first one, big enough that one of Chuuya’s classrooms could probably fit into it.
There’s a large dresser along the way, and an entire couch and TV set up on the far
side of the room, alongside an entire bank of windows. The view isn’t as good as the balcony, but it’s still pretty damn nice.
And the bed...
The bed is a feature in and of /itself/. Huge, with a handful of soft-looking pillows. The duvet on top is pitch-black, and spotless.
And the bed...
The bed is a feature in and of /itself/. Huge, with a handful of soft-looking pillows. The duvet on top is pitch-black, and spotless.
However, the most /notable/ feature is...
A mirror situated /above/ the bed, just big enough that you can see most of the mattress in it.
What is /that/ for? It’s not like you can watch yourself sleeping, and the idea of that is kind of /weird/, so..?
A mirror situated /above/ the bed, just big enough that you can see most of the mattress in it.
What is /that/ for? It’s not like you can watch yourself sleeping, and the idea of that is kind of /weird/, so..?
Then the bathroom entrance tucked into the corner catches his attention. He moves on easily.
The bathroom looks just as luxurious as the one Dazai has at home, which is nice. From what he can see, it doesn’t have the lights and speaker system Dazai has in /his/, so that’s a
The bathroom looks just as luxurious as the one Dazai has at home, which is nice. From what he can see, it doesn’t have the lights and speaker system Dazai has in /his/, so that’s a
definite con to this hotel.
Still a /massive/ upgrade from the showers in the dorms though. The water is instantly hot, and the water pressure is /fantastic/, and all the supplied soaps smell a little basic and generic.
He really should have brought his own shampoo and
Still a /massive/ upgrade from the showers in the dorms though. The water is instantly hot, and the water pressure is /fantastic/, and all the supplied soaps smell a little basic and generic.
He really should have brought his own shampoo and
conditioner, he muses, because he’s sure this generic brand is going to dry out his curls horrifically.
Knowing Dazai, he’ll just have to make a single mention of it and his preferred brand will magically appear for his next shower.
The thought makes him smile.
He brushes
Knowing Dazai, he’ll just have to make a single mention of it and his preferred brand will magically appear for his next shower.
The thought makes him smile.
He brushes
his teeth when he gets out, even though he’s going to be eating in a little bit. You can never be too careful.
Once he returns to the room, he finds that Dazai has brought his new clothes in here at some point during his shower. They’re all hung up neatly in the massive walk-in
Once he returns to the room, he finds that Dazai has brought his new clothes in here at some point during his shower. They’re all hung up neatly in the massive walk-in
closet, on the opposite side of all the things Dazai bought for himself today.
Something about that, seeing their belongings easily intermingled, makes him feel warm and bubbly. The sectioned closet, their toothbrushes sitting next to eachother in the provided cup in the
Something about that, seeing their belongings easily intermingled, makes him feel warm and bubbly. The sectioned closet, their toothbrushes sitting next to eachother in the provided cup in the
bathroom, their respective backpacks settled on each side of the bed—the side closest to the door for Dazai, the more protected side for Chuuya— just makes him feel...
Domestic, almost. Like he’s settling /in/, melding together.
And that light, giddy feeling in his stomach
Domestic, almost. Like he’s settling /in/, melding together.
And that light, giddy feeling in his stomach
makes it surprisingly easy to pick out his outfit for dinner:
A simple cropped black tank top, loose enough that the strap falls over his shoulder, and—
The same red skirt he tried on for Dazai earlier, the one that feels as light and flowy as he does right now.
It /fits/.
A simple cropped black tank top, loose enough that the strap falls over his shoulder, and—
The same red skirt he tried on for Dazai earlier, the one that feels as light and flowy as he does right now.
It /fits/.
Unfortunately, he still doesn't have the underwear necessary for the skirt, but since he has /plans/ for after dinner anyways, he doesn't think it's /too/ bold of him to--
Just go without.
The idea of going commando is /thrilling/, and imagining Dazai's reaction when he finds
Just go without.
The idea of going commando is /thrilling/, and imagining Dazai's reaction when he finds
out is exciting enough that he /quickly/ has to yank his thoughts away from that direction before it starts to /show/.
He adds some mascara and a little wing of eyeliner, to make his outfit blend together a little better. His hair is still drying, but he's /sure/ it will look
He adds some mascara and a little wing of eyeliner, to make his outfit blend together a little better. His hair is still drying, but he's /sure/ it will look
wild, so he takes the time to separate it into two braids. He pulls out a few pieces to frame his face loosely, but otherwise leaves his hair to /tomorrow's/ Chuuya.
On impulse, he skips putting the choker back on and instead clasps the golden 'D' necklace around his neck.
On impulse, he skips putting the choker back on and instead clasps the golden 'D' necklace around his neck.
Then he smells something delicious coming from the living room, so he slips on a pair of socks quickly before padding out.
He doesn't find anything in the kitchen or living room, but the balcony door has been left open. Outside, he can see movement, indistinct.
Following his
He doesn't find anything in the kitchen or living room, but the balcony door has been left open. Outside, he can see movement, indistinct.
Following his
nose--and his heart, as cliche as it sounds-- out to the balcony, he finds a scene out of a /romance/ novel.
The table is set with plates of food and two glasses filled with wine. The bottle is in the middle of the table, joined by a trio of lit candles.
And he was right,
The table is set with plates of food and two glasses filled with wine. The bottle is in the middle of the table, joined by a trio of lit candles.
And he was right,
about the view.
Not only of the city--which is beautiful, by the way, with a myriad of flashing neon lights, the headlights of cars driving /far/ below, moving billboards-- but also /Dazai/.
He changed at some point, into a silk button down shirt. The sleeves have been rolled
Not only of the city--which is beautiful, by the way, with a myriad of flashing neon lights, the headlights of cars driving /far/ below, moving billboards-- but also /Dazai/.
He changed at some point, into a silk button down shirt. The sleeves have been rolled
down to expose his forearms. The bandages are still missing.
It can't be a coincidence, the way that the shirt has two buttons left undone, exposing part of his chest. There are bandages /there/, but Chuuya is most interested in the way the flickering light highlights the dips
It can't be a coincidence, the way that the shirt has two buttons left undone, exposing part of his chest. There are bandages /there/, but Chuuya is most interested in the way the flickering light highlights the dips
of his chest muscles.
A glass appears in front of him, half-full of rich red wine. He takes it automatically, following the elegant fingers up to the wrist and elbow, trailing over muscle and skin until he gets to the welcoming smile.
"For you," Dazai mutters, taking a sip of
A glass appears in front of him, half-full of rich red wine. He takes it automatically, following the elegant fingers up to the wrist and elbow, trailing over muscle and skin until he gets to the welcoming smile.
"For you," Dazai mutters, taking a sip of
his own wine. He doesn't look like he enjoys it nearly as much as he enjoys his whiskey,but at least he doesn't spit it back into the cup or something equally as embarrassing.
Curious, Chuuya tastes the wine. This one is darker than the other ones he's had, a rich, earthy flavor
Curious, Chuuya tastes the wine. This one is darker than the other ones he's had, a rich, earthy flavor
that settles low in his stomach and spreads slowly through his veins. It heightens his senses, strings his awareness taut between every nerve ending.
The heat of the night feels suddenly incomparable to the heat he can feel in Dazai's eyes.
The chairs around the table have been
The heat of the night feels suddenly incomparable to the heat he can feel in Dazai's eyes.
The chairs around the table have been
rearranged so they face outwards to get the full extent of the view.
That's great and /all/, except Chuuya is more focused on the fact that they'll be sitting /right/ next to each other, close enough to touch.
He takes his seat first, sweeping his hands underneath his legs to
That's great and /all/, except Chuuya is more focused on the fact that they'll be sitting /right/ next to each other, close enough to touch.
He takes his seat first, sweeping his hands underneath his legs to
make sure his skirt doesn’t get caught on the chair.
Dazai settles beside him, and the way he sprawls out shouldn’t be so /attractive/. The way his legs spread emphasize how /long/ they are and how thick his thighs are.
Chuuya wants to take a bite of them.
The room service
Dazai settles beside him, and the way he sprawls out shouldn’t be so /attractive/. The way his legs spread emphasize how /long/ they are and how thick his thighs are.
Chuuya wants to take a bite of them.
The room service
meals were picked out to pair with the wine— another steak and vegetable plate and a pasta with beef in it.
Chuuya has to admit that he likes Japanese food better most of the time—except for breakfast, he /loves/ western breakfasts, especially their pancakes— but the first bite
Chuuya has to admit that he likes Japanese food better most of the time—except for breakfast, he /loves/ western breakfasts, especially their pancakes— but the first bite
is pretty damn good, melting in his mouth.
It’ll never be as good as home-cooked meals, but it definitely lives up to his movie-standards.
“Did you have fun today?” Dazai asks, cutting his steak into smaller pieces. It bleeds onto the plate, medium-rare.
Nodding, Chuuya
It’ll never be as good as home-cooked meals, but it definitely lives up to his movie-standards.
“Did you have fun today?” Dazai asks, cutting his steak into smaller pieces. It bleeds onto the plate, medium-rare.
Nodding, Chuuya
twirls his fork in the pasta. “I did, thank you.”
It wasn’t something he thought he would enjoy— shopping before always had this undercurrent of stress, because they didn’t have a lot of money to spend and so he always had to be conscientious with his purchases. Functionality
It wasn’t something he thought he would enjoy— shopping before always had this undercurrent of stress, because they didn’t have a lot of money to spend and so he always had to be conscientious with his purchases. Functionality
over aesthetic, and price had to be as low as he could find.
It wasn’t /fun/ back then, it was stressful.
But it was today, and he has Dazai to thank for that. He has Dazai to thank for a lot of things.
“I’m glad,” Dazai murmurs, voice low and thick with temptation. He
It wasn’t /fun/ back then, it was stressful.
But it was today, and he has Dazai to thank for that. He has Dazai to thank for a lot of things.
“I’m glad,” Dazai murmurs, voice low and thick with temptation. He
reaches out and lays his palm on his thigh.
His hand is so /big/, fingers curling around the sides, able to grab enough skin that he could just take a /hold/ of him.
But he doesn’t. Instead he lets his fingers skate teasingly light over the fabric of his skirt, moving in slow,
His hand is so /big/, fingers curling around the sides, able to grab enough skin that he could just take a /hold/ of him.
But he doesn’t. Instead he lets his fingers skate teasingly light over the fabric of his skirt, moving in slow,
unpredictable circles.
It keeps Chuuya on edge, nerves crackling with anticipation and want. Every time his fingers slide over a particularly sensitive stretch of skin, it makes his breath hitch.
He’s probably not subtle about the way he spreads his thighs a little wider,
It keeps Chuuya on edge, nerves crackling with anticipation and want. Every time his fingers slide over a particularly sensitive stretch of skin, it makes his breath hitch.
He’s probably not subtle about the way he spreads his thighs a little wider,
inviting Dazai’s hand upwards and inwards.
Now that he has /one/ hunger satiated—a quarter of his pasta is already gone, and his stomach feels better— the other one is coming back in full force, fueled by the heady wine he’s been sipping.
Dazai’s smile is wolffish, predatory
Now that he has /one/ hunger satiated—a quarter of his pasta is already gone, and his stomach feels better— the other one is coming back in full force, fueled by the heady wine he’s been sipping.
Dazai’s smile is wolffish, predatory
and smothered into his drink.
His hand trails /downwards/ instead of upwards, making Chuuya twitch with impatience.
“I was right,” Dazai says, breaking the concentration Chuuya had on his hand. “You do look amazing in a skirt.”
Flushing, Chuuya looks away slightly. He’s
His hand trails /downwards/ instead of upwards, making Chuuya twitch with impatience.
“I was right,” Dazai says, breaking the concentration Chuuya had on his hand. “You do look amazing in a skirt.”
Flushing, Chuuya looks away slightly. He’s
always been bad at taking compliments, especially when it comes to something like /this/. The warm, overflowing feeling in his chest is almost too much to handle.
“So small and strong,” Dazai muses to himself, the tip of his finger tracing the shape of his muscle beneath the
“So small and strong,” Dazai muses to himself, the tip of his finger tracing the shape of his muscle beneath the
skin. His leg is tensing almost involuntarily.
Chuuya takes another bite to give himself time to answer. He can’t think past the drag of silky fabric over his skin, the way Dazai’s hand is /slowly/ descending toward the hem, eyes burning in the darkness.
“I think I’ll take
Chuuya takes another bite to give himself time to answer. He can’t think past the drag of silky fabric over his skin, the way Dazai’s hand is /slowly/ descending toward the hem, eyes burning in the darkness.
“I think I’ll take
you to the aquarium tomorrow,” Dazai says, abruptly changing the subject.
His hand is still moving though, inching ever closer to the hem, so it takes an embarrassingly long moment for Chuuya to catch up with the new topic.
“I like aquariums,” he mutters, fighting to keep his
His hand is still moving though, inching ever closer to the hem, so it takes an embarrassingly long moment for Chuuya to catch up with the new topic.
“I like aquariums,” he mutters, fighting to keep his
voice even when all he can think about is the way his finger dips underneath the edge of his skirt and begins the agonizingly slow climb back upwards. On his bare skin, his hand feels almost rough, adding the slight drag of friction to the swirling sensations building inside his
stomach. "I went to the one in Tsubaka several times."
"Oh?" Dazai says, sounding /very/ interested in conversation even as his hand drags over the sensitive skin over his inner thigh. He's given up eating, and has settled for sipping occasionally as his glass of wine. "You'll
"Oh?" Dazai says, sounding /very/ interested in conversation even as his hand drags over the sensitive skin over his inner thigh. He's given up eating, and has settled for sipping occasionally as his glass of wine. "You'll
like this one then. I hear it's... bigger than most people expect."
Just like something /else/ is bigger than expected--
He takes a desperate gulp of wine, hoping to gather some self-control in the split second of silence. Any moment now, Dazai will discover that he's not
Just like something /else/ is bigger than expected--
He takes a desperate gulp of wine, hoping to gather some self-control in the split second of silence. Any moment now, Dazai will discover that he's not
wearing underneath his skirt, because his hand is coasting /up/ his inner thigh now, sparking sensitive lines of fire and electricity up his spine and down his legs.
He's drunk on it, on the anticipation, on the wine, on /Dazai/, on the feeling of his skirt slowly edging up his
He's drunk on it, on the anticipation, on the wine, on /Dazai/, on the feeling of his skirt slowly edging up his
legs. Every inch of him feels hypersensitive, turning every touch into something molten, anticipation drawing him tight.
Another inch higher, fingers cresting where his underwear /would/ be, and now his excitement is starting to /show/--
The fingers stop, only an inch or two
Another inch higher, fingers cresting where his underwear /would/ be, and now his excitement is starting to /show/--
The fingers stop, only an inch or two
from where he /wants/ them to be, where he's aching--
"Chuuya?"
Turning his lead, he meets dark, burning eyes, focused on him with searing intensity. His mouth parts instinctively, a heated breath leaving him. "Dazai," he whispers, response to call, like music.
"Come here."
"Chuuya?"
Turning his lead, he meets dark, burning eyes, focused on him with searing intensity. His mouth parts instinctively, a heated breath leaving him. "Dazai," he whispers, response to call, like music.
"Come here."
The words, the /command/ in them, jumpstart his body before his mind can even register their meaning. He sets his glass down after a final swallow, and turns to Dazai.
He’s not sure exactly what he wants, but the spread of his thighs is inviting. He’s only a step away, fingers
He’s not sure exactly what he wants, but the spread of his thighs is inviting. He’s only a step away, fingers
leaving his thigh only to skate up his body and gently hook in the chain around his neck.
Dazai pulls gently, more of a suggestion than anything else, but Chuuya follows the tug like he has no other choice, rising to his feet.
Climbing into his lap feels like coming home,
Dazai pulls gently, more of a suggestion than anything else, but Chuuya follows the tug like he has no other choice, rising to his feet.
Climbing into his lap feels like coming home,
his legs firm and steady beneath him.
His hands find the back of Dazai’s neck, running his nails over the fuzzy underneath.
For a moment, they just stare at eachother, the moment growing thick and taffy-sweet between them. Chuuya can’t tell if the heat he’s feeling is because
His hands find the back of Dazai’s neck, running his nails over the fuzzy underneath.
For a moment, they just stare at eachother, the moment growing thick and taffy-sweet between them. Chuuya can’t tell if the heat he’s feeling is because
of the wine, or the air, or Dazai beneath him, or Dazai /staring/ at him, hand slowly encircling his throat, and /god/ his hand is so big, he can almost wrap his fingers around entirely.
His pulse throbs in Dazai’s palm, his body silently begging for attention.
“Kiss me,
His pulse throbs in Dazai’s palm, his body silently begging for attention.
“Kiss me,
little siren,” Dazai murmurs, eyes reflecting candlelight flame in the darkness. He looks like sin personified, too tempting to resist even if he wanted to. “You’ve earned your reward.”
He doesn’t need any more encouragement, leaning forward eagerly. The hand on his throat
He doesn’t need any more encouragement, leaning forward eagerly. The hand on his throat
follows him easily, never putting too much pressure but /always/ present.
The first press of their lips together tastes like wine and relief. It’s chaste, unhurried for a moment—
But then something darker and /hungrier/ stirs between them, igniting the heat between them like
The first press of their lips together tastes like wine and relief. It’s chaste, unhurried for a moment—
But then something darker and /hungrier/ stirs between them, igniting the heat between them like
flames to gasoline.
Teeth sink into his lip with more force than they have ever before, making Chuuya gasp and jerk in place.
It doesn’t /hurt/ so much as it focuses sensation in one spot. The sharp, indulgent suck Dazai gives him feels like it echoes through his entire body.
Teeth sink into his lip with more force than they have ever before, making Chuuya gasp and jerk in place.
It doesn’t /hurt/ so much as it focuses sensation in one spot. The sharp, indulgent suck Dazai gives him feels like it echoes through his entire body.
It builds, growing heavier as Dazai takes advantage of his gasp and slides his tongue into his mouth.
A pleased hum rolls out from the back of his throat, a sound that is eagerly swallowed by Dazai. Chuuya wiggles closer, every centimeter of contact between them making him even
A pleased hum rolls out from the back of his throat, a sound that is eagerly swallowed by Dazai. Chuuya wiggles closer, every centimeter of contact between them making him even
more ravenous for more, an empty pit of need hollowing out his stomach.
It’s never enough. Even when the contact is /too/ much and Chuuya feels on the verge of tears with it, it’s never /enough. He always needs /more/.
His rapidly hardening cock brushes against Dazai’s stomach,
It’s never enough. Even when the contact is /too/ much and Chuuya feels on the verge of tears with it, it’s never /enough. He always needs /more/.
His rapidly hardening cock brushes against Dazai’s stomach,
the fabric of his skirt dragging across the sensitive head and making his breath catch in his throat.
It feels so good, and every time they do this, it just feels /better/, like each brush of pleasure is like a stored symphony along his nerves and woken each time Dazai touches
It feels so good, and every time they do this, it just feels /better/, like each brush of pleasure is like a stored symphony along his nerves and woken each time Dazai touches
him again.
“You,” Dazai mutters against him, the hand that’s not on his throat making a curving sweep over his body. Down his chest, into the tuck of his waist, over his hip—here, Chuuya shivers hard, hoping that Dazai will /touch/ him— then dragging down the outside of his
“You,” Dazai mutters against him, the hand that’s not on his throat making a curving sweep over his body. Down his chest, into the tuck of his waist, over his hip—here, Chuuya shivers hard, hoping that Dazai will /touch/ him— then dragging down the outside of his
thigh. “Drive me crazy, you know that?”
Chuuya can’t help but preen a little under the revelation. He drives Dazai /crazy/, someone much more experienced and /controlled/ than him, and he wasn’t even trying that hard.
It’s the ultimate high, physical pleasure pairing with
Chuuya can’t help but preen a little under the revelation. He drives Dazai /crazy/, someone much more experienced and /controlled/ than him, and he wasn’t even trying that hard.
It’s the ultimate high, physical pleasure pairing with
the /emotional/.
A thumb tips his head back further, taking away what little control he has over the kiss. He has no choice but to take what Dazai gives him, devouring him in a deep, /relentless/ kiss.
The hand on his thigh dips under the skirt, roaming upward. It’s still
A thumb tips his head back further, taking away what little control he has over the kiss. He has no choice but to take what Dazai gives him, devouring him in a deep, /relentless/ kiss.
The hand on his thigh dips under the skirt, roaming upward. It’s still
firmly on the outside, but it’s /contact/. It sends fire licking up his thighs, his legs spreading wider.
“You make it /so/ hard,” Dazai practically growls this time, voice so thick that Chuuya feels he might choke on it. “To control myself.”
Before he can respond, or even
“You make it /so/ hard,” Dazai practically growls this time, voice so thick that Chuuya feels he might choke on it. “To control myself.”
Before he can respond, or even
have a coherent thought, Dazai is kissing him /deeper/. The metal ball of his tongue piercing rubs ruthlessly against the roof of his mouth, creating a point of over-sensitivity that he capitalized on, until Chuuya is trembling.
He’s grateful that Dazai is kissing him like he’s
He’s grateful that Dazai is kissing him like he’s
trying to climb inside him, because even though they are outside on the balcony of the top floor—
They’re still /outside/, with people only a story below them. Some of them might have their windows open; some of them might /hear/ him.
The fingers on his thigh sweep even further
They’re still /outside/, with people only a story below them. Some of them might have their windows open; some of them might /hear/ him.
The fingers on his thigh sweep even further
up, tracing the line of his straining hip before curving /around/--
And for the first time /ever/, Chuuya has a hand on his /bare ass/. A hand that is so big it can grab a cheek almost entirely, fingers that grip hard and pull him even closer.
"I'm /starting/ to think," Dazai
And for the first time /ever/, Chuuya has a hand on his /bare ass/. A hand that is so big it can grab a cheek almost entirely, fingers that grip hard and pull him even closer.
"I'm /starting/ to think," Dazai
continues, and Chuuya doesn't even care what he's talking about because--
He can /feel/ his voice rumbling with how close their chests are pressed together, can feel it in on his lips and in his mouth, filling his lungs like heady smoke.
/Keep talking/, he thinks to himself
He can /feel/ his voice rumbling with how close their chests are pressed together, can feel it in on his lips and in his mouth, filling his lungs like heady smoke.
/Keep talking/, he thinks to himself
desperately, like if he thinks it hard enough, Dazai might hear him.
// Keep talking. Tell me I'm pretty or I'm good, or I drive you crazy. It doesn't matter, just /please/ don't stop because it feels so good. //
Like an answer to his prayers, Dazai continues, "That you /like/
// Keep talking. Tell me I'm pretty or I'm good, or I drive you crazy. It doesn't matter, just /please/ don't stop because it feels so good. //
Like an answer to his prayers, Dazai continues, "That you /like/
pushing me to my limits."
The hand on his ass tightens, drags him even closer. He's pressed tightly against him now, sitting directly on his lap, and he can /feel/ the hardening bulge beneath him, growing larger with every word and movement.
He would think that his need for it
The hand on his ass tightens, drags him even closer. He's pressed tightly against him now, sitting directly on his lap, and he can /feel/ the hardening bulge beneath him, growing larger with every word and movement.
He would think that his need for it
would /lessen/ once he got his hands--and mouth-- on his dick, but now he knows how hot it feels in his palm, the satisfying stretch of it in his mouth, and he wants it /everywhere/.
He doesn't have the experience to really imagine it, but he can /almost/ picture his cock
He doesn't have the experience to really imagine it, but he can /almost/ picture his cock
stretching him open, pressing /inside/--
The hand tightens on his throat, just enough that he can feel his pulse struggling to beat past the pressure. He goes limp under the hold, mind turning hazy with desire.
"Answer me, baby."
He scrambles to think of when Dazai asked a
The hand tightens on his throat, just enough that he can feel his pulse struggling to beat past the pressure. He goes limp under the hold, mind turning hazy with desire.
"Answer me, baby."
He scrambles to think of when Dazai asked a
/question/, but it's so hard to gather his thoughts when Dazai is encouraging his hips to move, building a grinding rhythm in his lap.
"I--," he gasps, choking on a moan when the fabric of his skirt drags against him /just/ right. "Yes?"
He sounds unsure, a little confused, but
"I--," he gasps, choking on a moan when the fabric of his skirt drags against him /just/ right. "Yes?"
He sounds unsure, a little confused, but
the sentiment is there, and /thankfully/ Dazai accepts his answer.
"Bratty," Dazai sighs, not sounding disappointed in the least. He's moved on to smearing kisses over his cheeks, finding the line of Chuuya's jaw and biting down on it intermittently. "What should I do with you?"
"Bratty," Dazai sighs, not sounding disappointed in the least. He's moved on to smearing kisses over his cheeks, finding the line of Chuuya's jaw and biting down on it intermittently. "What should I do with you?"
Maybe this one isn't a question, but Chuuya has already been prompted to answer once, so his mouth moves before he can even register what he's going to say--
"Fuck me."
There's a sharp inhale against his teeth, the slight sting of teeth sinking into his jaw. The sensation
"Fuck me."
There's a sharp inhale against his teeth, the slight sting of teeth sinking into his jaw. The sensation
makes him keen quietly, digging his nails into the back of Dazai's neck to ground himself.
Even though he's quickly losing his mind, he's clinging onto what little restraint he has to keep himself /quiet/.
"So eager," Dazai rasps against his jaw, moving steadily downwards.
Even though he's quickly losing his mind, he's clinging onto what little restraint he has to keep himself /quiet/.
"So eager," Dazai rasps against his jaw, moving steadily downwards.
Somehow, he manages to find every sensitive spot on his neck and lingers there, sucking and biting down until every centimeter of his neck feels like it throbs in time with his heart.
He has to move his hand to give himself access, and it makes it’s way to Chuuya’s other thigh.
He has to move his hand to give himself access, and it makes it’s way to Chuuya’s other thigh.
This one though, doesn’t just duck underneath his skirt; it pushes it /up/, revealing his trembling thighs until the fabric is bunched over his hips.
Chuuya arches, waiting for the fabric to pulled over his erection, hoping Dazai will finally put hands on him—
The next sucking
Chuuya arches, waiting for the fabric to pulled over his erection, hoping Dazai will finally put hands on him—
The next sucking
kiss pulls his necklace into Dazai’s mouth, and the feeling of the chain moving over his skin just adds another layer of sensation.
He can barely breathe, heart speeding up, lungs aching and too small to keep up with his arousal—
“Do you trust me?” Dazai asks, voice low.
He can barely breathe, heart speeding up, lungs aching and too small to keep up with his arousal—
“Do you trust me?” Dazai asks, voice low.
Like every other time he’s asked before (and like every time Dazai will ask in the future, again and again, until their bond is so secure that they don’t need to /speak/, they can see the love and trust as clear as day in each others eyes), Chuuya only has one answer:
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
Dazai surges upward, making Chuuya yelp in surprise as his arms and legs tighten instinctively.
For a second, he thinks he’s about to be carried off into the bedroom, where Dazai will ravish him and the only thought in his head is—
/Finally, fucking finally./
For a second, he thinks he’s about to be carried off into the bedroom, where Dazai will ravish him and the only thought in his head is—
/Finally, fucking finally./
But that’s not what happens. Instead, he’s being dumped onto one of the longer couches closer to the edge of the balcony.
Dazai follows him down before he can complain, one knee sinking into the cushion between his legs and encouraging his thighs to spread to accommodate.
Dazai follows him down before he can complain, one knee sinking into the cushion between his legs and encouraging his thighs to spread to accommodate.
The next kiss is deeper than the last, backed by the grounding weight of Dazai hovering over him.
With hands in his hair, Chuuya pulls him in even harder. Wiggling,he adjusts his position until he can wrap one leg around his hip and then the other.
He tightens his legs, yanking
With hands in his hair, Chuuya pulls him in even harder. Wiggling,he adjusts his position until he can wrap one leg around his hip and then the other.
He tightens his legs, yanking
him down at the same time he tilts his hips /up/--
For the first time that night, their hips come together perfectly, erections grinding together. Dazai is still tucked behind his slacks, and Chuuya's skirt is half-ridden up, but it's /scorching/ hot.
Dazai swears into his
For the first time that night, their hips come together perfectly, erections grinding together. Dazai is still tucked behind his slacks, and Chuuya's skirt is half-ridden up, but it's /scorching/ hot.
Dazai swears into his
mouth, heated, one hand gripping the back of the chair to keep his weight from crushing Chuuya.
The other is between their bodies, doing /something/ that Chuuya can't see, shoulder rolling with the movement.
There's a small /click/ and then the scent of artificial fruit slowly
The other is between their bodies, doing /something/ that Chuuya can't see, shoulder rolling with the movement.
There's a small /click/ and then the scent of artificial fruit slowly
fills the air.
Chuuya squirms, the smell breaking through the haze of pleasure in his mind. It's so /strong/, and yet it doesn't belong at all. "Are--is that /strawberries/?"
There's a huff of laughter against the corner of his mouth, punctuated by another roll of Dazai's hips.
Chuuya squirms, the smell breaking through the haze of pleasure in his mind. It's so /strong/, and yet it doesn't belong at all. "Are--is that /strawberries/?"
There's a huff of laughter against the corner of his mouth, punctuated by another roll of Dazai's hips.
He rises up a little, and the way his shoulder strains as he shifts his weight is /hot/.
"Yes. It's flavored lube," Dazai reveals, showing the red-pink bottle to him. He must've been hiding it in the pocket of his slacks.
He tips the bottle upside down, pressing his index
"Yes. It's flavored lube," Dazai reveals, showing the red-pink bottle to him. He must've been hiding it in the pocket of his slacks.
He tips the bottle upside down, pressing his index
finger over the small spout and squeezing the bottle with the rest of his fingers.
It takes a /lot/ of grip strength to be able to do that, Chuuya thinks to himself hazily, biting his lip as he imagines those hands on /him/ like that. Not as careful as they /usually/ are--Chuuya
It takes a /lot/ of grip strength to be able to do that, Chuuya thinks to himself hazily, biting his lip as he imagines those hands on /him/ like that. Not as careful as they /usually/ are--Chuuya
likes the care, he /does/, but he's finding that he has an increasing desire to be pinned down beneath Dazai and forced to take it as he breaks him open in the best, most pleasing ways-- but /harder/. Firmer.
Enough to leave bruises on him. Dazai can do it, Chuuya /knows/ he's
Enough to leave bruises on him. Dazai can do it, Chuuya /knows/ he's
strong enough for it, he just doesn't know how to communicate his want--
"Here," Dazai says, letting the bottle drop to the side. He brings his finger up, rubbing it over his bottom lip. It looks sinfully wet and shiny in the low light, so tempting. "Have a taste."
"Here," Dazai says, letting the bottle drop to the side. He brings his finger up, rubbing it over his bottom lip. It looks sinfully wet and shiny in the low light, so tempting. "Have a taste."
He's diving down again, pressing their lips together roughly. This time, the taste of wine is overpowered greatly by the sweet taste of /strawberries/.
It's a bit strange, clearly artificial, and the lube itself is oddly thick on his mouth, coating his tongue. It's /much/ better
It's a bit strange, clearly artificial, and the lube itself is oddly thick on his mouth, coating his tongue. It's /much/ better
than the warming lube though,--even though he thinks he likes the taste of Dazai's cock the best--so he chases after the flavor. He pulls his lip into his mouth, running his tongue across it over and over again, until all he can taste is strawberry and Dazai.
He sucks, thrilling
He sucks, thrilling
at the way he can almost direct Dazai's actions with it.
A hard suck earns him a long, languid roll of his hips. A /bite/ gets him a muffled growl and a grind so hard it almost /hurts/. His tongue swiping over his lip gets a hand landing on his thigh, running up--
/Finally/,
A hard suck earns him a long, languid roll of his hips. A /bite/ gets him a muffled growl and a grind so hard it almost /hurts/. His tongue swiping over his lip gets a hand landing on his thigh, running up--
/Finally/,
his skirt is pushed up entirely, bunched up around his waist.
Chuuya tries to keep Dazai from pulling away, tightening his hands and sinking his teeth in, but it doesn't work. With another harsh rock of his hips, grinding the rough material of his jeans against Chuuya's
Chuuya tries to keep Dazai from pulling away, tightening his hands and sinking his teeth in, but it doesn't work. With another harsh rock of his hips, grinding the rough material of his jeans against Chuuya's
erection, he takes advantage of the whimpered gasp to pull away.
He sits up straighter, and Chuuya is left sprawled out underneath him. Thighs hooked over his hips, clothes shoved out of the way, face flushed with arousal, bitten-red lips open and panting, eyes huge.
(Dazai
He sits up straighter, and Chuuya is left sprawled out underneath him. Thighs hooked over his hips, clothes shoved out of the way, face flushed with arousal, bitten-red lips open and panting, eyes huge.
(Dazai
is doing his best to commit this sight to memory. Chuuya, rumpled and clearly so desperate for him, going commando like he /knew/ Dazai would be touching him.
He's either going to be seeing this sight for the /rest of his life/--
Or he's going to /remember/ it, in as much vivid
He's either going to be seeing this sight for the /rest of his life/--
Or he's going to /remember/ it, in as much vivid
detail as physically possible, because he already knows he's going to end up jerking off to it for a while.)
"This was bold," he muses, running one finger teasingly up the length of his thigh. He avoids his erection, though he skates /so/ close Chuuya automatically holds his
"This was bold," he muses, running one finger teasingly up the length of his thigh. He avoids his erection, though he skates /so/ close Chuuya automatically holds his
breath in reaction.
"Do you want me /that/ badly? You had to make it easy for me?"
The bottle of lube is grabbed again, and this time, the pop of the lid is accented by the sharp, wolfish smile on Dazai's face.
That's not why Chuuya did it--
But Dazai doesn't need to know
"Do you want me /that/ badly? You had to make it easy for me?"
The bottle of lube is grabbed again, and this time, the pop of the lid is accented by the sharp, wolfish smile on Dazai's face.
That's not why Chuuya did it--
But Dazai doesn't need to know
/that/, right?
"Yes," he mutters, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. There's something deliciously filthy about /talking/ during sex, like verbal acknowledgment of his lust is somehow more shameful than being rock-hard in a skirt and on his back for Dazai.
Dazai takes his
"Yes," he mutters, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. There's something deliciously filthy about /talking/ during sex, like verbal acknowledgment of his lust is somehow more shameful than being rock-hard in a skirt and on his back for Dazai.
Dazai takes his
hand back and pours a generous amount of lube on it. Some of it drips off his palm to land in cold droplets on Chuuya's skin, making him jerk in place.
"Lucky for you, I'm feeling /nice/ today," Dazai tells him, moments before his slick hand wraps around his cock.
It's still
"Lucky for you, I'm feeling /nice/ today," Dazai tells him, moments before his slick hand wraps around his cock.
It's still
cold, enough to make him flinch away instinctively and gasp. The heat of his hand is distantly behind, and the friction burns deliciously through him, a confusing mix of sensations that makes him bite his lip to keep from crying out.
"But how could I /not/ be," Dazai continues,
"But how could I /not/ be," Dazai continues,
hand moving tightly over him. All the caution from last time is nowhere to be found, leaving just this burning /confidence/, like Dazai knows /exactly/ how to make him feel good.
And he does, because /god/, every movement of his hand feels electric, golden with pleasure. Did it
And he does, because /god/, every movement of his hand feels electric, golden with pleasure. Did it
feel this good last time?
God, he can’t remember. Every time Dazai touches him, it feels like the /first/ time, so overwhelming he feels like he might shatter under the pleasure—
“When you look so pretty underneath me?” Dazai finishes, voice dripping with satisfaction.
God, he can’t remember. Every time Dazai touches him, it feels like the /first/ time, so overwhelming he feels like he might shatter under the pleasure—
“When you look so pretty underneath me?” Dazai finishes, voice dripping with satisfaction.
Shuddering, Chuuya arches up, pushing his hips into the next stroke. He’s biting his lip so hard it should be hurting or even bleeding—
But all he can taste is /strawberry/, coating his tongue.
“Yeah?” Dazai hums, expression focused and intense. “Do you like being told how
But all he can taste is /strawberry/, coating his tongue.
“Yeah?” Dazai hums, expression focused and intense. “Do you like being told how
pretty you are? How good you look, all dressed up?”
Chuuya nods frantically, letting out a stuttered breath. It’s true, he /does/, he likes being pretty, he likes being the /best/, he likes being the center of attention, likes /excelling/. It satisfies some needy, insecure
Chuuya nods frantically, letting out a stuttered breath. It’s true, he /does/, he likes being pretty, he likes being the /best/, he likes being the center of attention, likes /excelling/. It satisfies some needy, insecure
part of himself, the part that always makes him doubt himself.
The part that whispers that he’s not as smart as he thinks, and not as hard-working as he should be, not as /good/ as everyone else—
And it all just goes /silent/ when Dazai talks to him like this.
Dazai’s
The part that whispers that he’s not as smart as he thinks, and not as hard-working as he should be, not as /good/ as everyone else—
And it all just goes /silent/ when Dazai talks to him like this.
Dazai’s
smile is sharply indulgent,the kind of look someone gives you when telling you to do something wild and reckless despite the dangers. “So quiet today,” he muses, hand slowing. “Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me?”
There’s lube dripping down his cock, over his balls, smearing
There’s lube dripping down his cock, over his balls, smearing
messily over his thighs. He can’t even be embarrassed at the mess Dazai makes of him, too busy trying to smother the rising moans.
He shakes his head, frustration scratching at him. It was so good before, why is Dazai /slowing down/?
“Talk to me, beautiful,” Dazai murmurs,
He shakes his head, frustration scratching at him. It was so good before, why is Dazai /slowing down/?
“Talk to me, beautiful,” Dazai murmurs,
leaning over him. His mouth finds the hinge of Chuuya’s jaw, mouthing at the sensitive skin. “Tell me how good I make you feel. Moan for me. I want to hear you.”
The last part is whispered directly into his ear, paired with an agonizingly slow stroke over his cock and—
Chuuya
The last part is whispered directly into his ear, paired with an agonizingly slow stroke over his cock and—
Chuuya
cracks a little under the strain, letting out a tiny keening moan.
Dazai’s hand tightens on him, strokes him harder, /faster/. “There you are,” he says low, scraping his teeth over Chuuya’s cheek. “Again.”
Wrapping his arms around him, Chuuya shudders. Digging his nails in, he
Dazai’s hand tightens on him, strokes him harder, /faster/. “There you are,” he says low, scraping his teeth over Chuuya’s cheek. “Again.”
Wrapping his arms around him, Chuuya shudders. Digging his nails in, he
gasps out a breathless, “But I— what if someone /hears us/?”
Poor thing. He doesn’t even realize how cliché what he just said was, straight out of a cheap porn film.
(Dazai does though, and it’s hard work to smother his smile against his cheek.)
“You’re right,” Dazai sighs,
Poor thing. He doesn’t even realize how cliché what he just said was, straight out of a cheap porn film.
(Dazai does though, and it’s hard work to smother his smile against his cheek.)
“You’re right,” Dazai sighs,
but he doesn’t /sound/ like he agrees, and his hand is moving faster, making Chuuya twitch and tremble beneath him, breath speeding up—
“It probably wouldn’t be fair for someone to hear how lovely you sound without being able to see how pretty you are too.”
Oh, /oh/,—
“It probably wouldn’t be fair for someone to hear how lovely you sound without being able to see how pretty you are too.”
Oh, /oh/,—
"But that sight is only for /me/, isn't it?" Dazai continues, the edge of a growl in his voice. He's so heavy above him, impossible to escape, pinning him open. "Only I get to see you like this, aren't I? The /only/ one, /ever/."
Gulping, Chuuya nods again. He tightens his legs
Gulping, Chuuya nods again. He tightens his legs
again, dragging himself as close as physically possible to Dazai's immovable form.His hand is still between them, still stroking flashfire-pleasure into him,but there's an aching pit growing in his stomach, one that is only satisfied when he feels Dazai's erection pressed against
his ass.
It's like hunger, only more invasive, filling every inch of his body until the only thought in his head is--
More, more, /please/ more, I'll do /anything/, just fill me up--
"I know what you want," Dazai says, hand stopping entirely. The lube is warm by now, but not
It's like hunger, only more invasive, filling every inch of his body until the only thought in his head is--
More, more, /please/ more, I'll do /anything/, just fill me up--
"I know what you want," Dazai says, hand stopping entirely. The lube is warm by now, but not
as hot as the warming lube was. He's almost disappointed by that, not realizing how much sensation that added until he's experiencing pleasure without it.
"And I know how to give it to you," he continues, fingers wandering /down/. "All you have to do is /ask/."
In that moment,
"And I know how to give it to you," he continues, fingers wandering /down/. "All you have to do is /ask/."
In that moment,
Chuuya decides, once and for all, that he doesn't /care/ who hears him, because the thought of someone hearing how good Dazai makes him feel, how good /Dazai/ is and Chuuya is getting all that experience to /himself/--
It's hot.
His next moan is much louder than the first.
It's hot.
His next moan is much louder than the first.
"Please, Dazai, just-- /please/," he pants, unsure of exactly what he wants, what will satisfy the pit of hunger in his stomach.
Dazai will know though. He'll help him, Chuuya just has to /ask/ him and he'll take care of everything.
The answer to his pleas is Dazai's clean hand
Dazai will know though. He'll help him, Chuuya just has to /ask/ him and he'll take care of everything.
The answer to his pleas is Dazai's clean hand
hooking under one of his knees and pushing up. Not for the first time, Chuuya is grateful that he's so flexible, otherwise having his leg pinned to his side with his ankle propped up on Dazai's shoulder might /hurt/. As it is, it just sends the satisfying burn of a good stretch
through him.
His hand wanders even /farther/ down, pressing briefly into the space just under his balls before sliding down into the crack of his ass.
Chuuya's eyes widen, finally catching up with what Dazai has planned. He's not /scared/, he's just nervous. No one has ever
His hand wanders even /farther/ down, pressing briefly into the space just under his balls before sliding down into the crack of his ass.
Chuuya's eyes widen, finally catching up with what Dazai has planned. He's not /scared/, he's just nervous. No one has ever
touched him /there/, he's barely touched /himself/ there, and now Dazai--someone Chuuya wants desperately to please and to /impress/-- is going to put his hands there, probably /more/--
When he tenses instinctively, the hand stops. It doesn't withdraw, it just hovers there,
When he tenses instinctively, the hand stops. It doesn't withdraw, it just hovers there,
waiting for a signal to stop or to keep going.
"You said you trusted me, sweetheart," Dazai reminds him, moving over to give him a sweetly lingering kiss, one that coaxes the tension out of him. "Are you changing your mind?"
The way he says it, carefully neutral, makes it seem
"You said you trusted me, sweetheart," Dazai reminds him, moving over to give him a sweetly lingering kiss, one that coaxes the tension out of him. "Are you changing your mind?"
The way he says it, carefully neutral, makes it seem
like Dazai doesn't mind if he says no,like he's more concerned with making sure Chuuya is comfortable more than anything else.
That assurance, even if silent, is enough to have Chuuya taking a deeper breath and forcing himself to relax back into Dazai's grip. He kisses him back,
That assurance, even if silent, is enough to have Chuuya taking a deeper breath and forcing himself to relax back into Dazai's grip. He kisses him back,
letting all his nerves be soothed by the swipe of Dazai's tongue over his lip.
"Don't stop," he whispers, voice breathy in the meager space between them.
That earns him a slightly deeper kiss, an indulgent nibble on his lower lip, a pleased hum rumbling in Dazai's chest.
"Don't stop," he whispers, voice breathy in the meager space between them.
That earns him a slightly deeper kiss, an indulgent nibble on his lower lip, a pleased hum rumbling in Dazai's chest.
"Don't worry," Dazai mumbles back, "I'll take care of you."
Before Chuuya can gather his thoughts, his tongue is sliding into his mouth. Dazai kisses him exactly how he likes-- deep, piercing flicking over the roof of his mouth, tongues sliding together sensually.
Like that,
Before Chuuya can gather his thoughts, his tongue is sliding into his mouth. Dazai kisses him exactly how he likes-- deep, piercing flicking over the roof of his mouth, tongues sliding together sensually.
Like that,
it's easy to fall back into the rhythm of things. The aching need never went away, and now it's being built up again, fanned into a forest fire with the expert way he kisses Chuuya. Again and again, stealing the breath from him, until he's dizzy, mind spinning with the need for
more contact, more pleasure, more /anything/.
Dazai takes the oxygen from him and gives him pure liquid lust in return.
When his hips rock up instinctively, aching for friction, the hand between his legs moves again. Slower, this time, more cautious, fingertips almost tickling
Dazai takes the oxygen from him and gives him pure liquid lust in return.
When his hips rock up instinctively, aching for friction, the hand between his legs moves again. Slower, this time, more cautious, fingertips almost tickling
with how lightly they trace over his skin.
Chuuya shivers, turning what remains of his nervous energy into a frantic kiss, sucking on Dazai's tongue until there's a low, guttural groan rumbling from above him.
With one leg pinned to his side and the other draped across Dazai's
Chuuya shivers, turning what remains of his nervous energy into a frantic kiss, sucking on Dazai's tongue until there's a low, guttural groan rumbling from above him.
With one leg pinned to his side and the other draped across Dazai's
thigh, he's spread wide open. In the perfect position for Dazai's fingers to wander lower, lower, /there/--
The first brush of his fingers against Chuuya's entrance is...
A little weird, to be honest. It feels strange to be wet there, and for Dazai to be /rubbing/ wetness into
The first brush of his fingers against Chuuya's entrance is...
A little weird, to be honest. It feels strange to be wet there, and for Dazai to be /rubbing/ wetness into
him with long strokes of his fingers. It doesn't feel /bad/ though, and there's a certain point it feels /good/. Not as good as his tongue in his mouth, or his hand directly on his cock, but the sensation makes anticipation stir in his stomach, his body working up to something.
Dazai pulls back just far enough to sink his teeth into his lower lip, hard enough to make Chuuya whimper and shudder in reaction.
At the same, his finger swirls over his rim and then pushes /in/. There's enough lube that there's no friction, but there /is/ a sense of burning
At the same, his finger swirls over his rim and then pushes /in/. There's enough lube that there's no friction, but there /is/ a sense of burning
pressure.
He's felt it before, when he tried to finger /himself/. Not quite on this scale, because Dazai's hands are /massive/, but he forces himself to relax into the pressure with a shuddering breath.
It takes a few thrusts, Dazai pulling out just to press his finger deeper
He's felt it before, when he tried to finger /himself/. Not quite on this scale, because Dazai's hands are /massive/, but he forces himself to relax into the pressure with a shuddering breath.
It takes a few thrusts, Dazai pulling out just to press his finger deeper
on the next thrust in, pausing quite a few times to let his body adjust while he kisses him stupid and whispers soothing words against his mouth whenever Chuuya tenses up again.
"Doing so well," Dazai purrs, once he has his finger buried all the way inside him. "Feels good?"
"Doing so well," Dazai purrs, once he has his finger buried all the way inside him. "Feels good?"
Chuuya squirms a little bit. It doesn't feel /bad/, but it doesn't feel /great/ either. It mostly just feels intrusive, and pressure against his insides. It doesn't move with him when he shifts either, which is a strange concept.
"Feels..." He considers lying and telling Dazai
"Feels..." He considers lying and telling Dazai
that it feels great, but he’s pulled back a little to stare down at him, and he /can’t/ lie when those eyes are locked on his expression. “..a little strange?”
“Does it hurt?”
Chuuya shakes his head, because it doesn’t hurt. It feels like the stretch of his muscles, just in a
“Does it hurt?”
Chuuya shakes his head, because it doesn’t hurt. It feels like the stretch of his muscles, just in a
different, more sensitive part of his body. He can’t say that the stretch isn’t /satisfying/ in its own way, but he’s not feeling any mind-melting pleasure or anything like that.
“Good,” Dazai says, dipping back down to find his neck with his mouth, treating him to another
“Good,” Dazai says, dipping back down to find his neck with his mouth, treating him to another
series of slow, sucking kisses. /Those/ feel good, and the head of Chuuya’s cock is just /barely/ brushing the silk of Dazai’s shirt, tantalizing.
Then Dazai’s finger is pulling out, driving back /in/, and this time his finger curls up, massaging his inner muscles at the same
Then Dazai’s finger is pulling out, driving back /in/, and this time his finger curls up, massaging his inner muscles at the same
he finds a sensitive spot on his neck, filling him with the twin sensations of /good/ and /full/ and—
“Oh,” Chuuya gasps, arching underneath him. He can see why people do this now, why people get addicted to it, because it’s satisfying in such a primal, instinctive way that it
“Oh,” Chuuya gasps, arching underneath him. He can see why people do this now, why people get addicted to it, because it’s satisfying in such a primal, instinctive way that it
feels better than /anything/ he’s ever felt before.
Better than Dazai jerking him off, or masturbating, or when he got the Keio acceptance letter.
Nothing feels better than this, he thinks to himself, driving his hips upward on the next slide in to increase the force. Nothing.
Better than Dazai jerking him off, or masturbating, or when he got the Keio acceptance letter.
Nothing feels better than this, he thinks to himself, driving his hips upward on the next slide in to increase the force. Nothing.
He can feel Dazai’s smile against his skin, probably smug as the way he has Chuuya panting beneath him, but Chuuya doesn’t even /care/ anymore, he can be smug all he wants, just keep going—
The second finger pressing against his rim doesn’t frighten him nearly as much as the
The second finger pressing against his rim doesn’t frighten him nearly as much as the
first one, mostly because he’s half out of his mind with need and he already knows what to expect.
After the first couple thrusts of the first finger, the burning stretch had gone away. Now it returns, slightly more than before, growing deeper as his fingers press further in.
After the first couple thrusts of the first finger, the burning stretch had gone away. Now it returns, slightly more than before, growing deeper as his fingers press further in.
The whole experience is overwhelming-- Dazai, hot and heavy above him, pinning him down. His fingers, long and thick, inside of him, curling upwards. The bulge of Dazai's erection, still hidden in his pants, pressed against the crease of Chuuya's thigh, tantalizingly close and
yet so far--
Oh my /god/.
Chuuya jolts in place, a strangled keen escaping his throat as Dazai's fingers curl inside him at /just/ the right angle, sending a shockwave of fire-tinged ecstasy ripping through him.
"I--" he gasps, bucking underneath him. At some point, one of his
Oh my /god/.
Chuuya jolts in place, a strangled keen escaping his throat as Dazai's fingers curl inside him at /just/ the right angle, sending a shockwave of fire-tinged ecstasy ripping through him.
"I--" he gasps, bucking underneath him. At some point, one of his
hands has found it's way into Dazai's hair. It tightens, strong enough that Dazai lets out a sharp noise, sinking his teeth into him as retaliation and giving him a deeper, /harder/ thrust--
Which just makes the problem /worse/.
"Again. Do that again," Chuuya demands
Which just makes the problem /worse/.
"Again. Do that again," Chuuya demands
breathlessly, instinctively spreading his thighs wider, so Dazai can get /deeper/--
Dazai does the opposite though, stilling with his fingers buried deep inside him.He's changed to a massaging motion against whatever /amazing/ spot he'd found, a movement that nearly makes Chuuya
Dazai does the opposite though, stilling with his fingers buried deep inside him.He's changed to a massaging motion against whatever /amazing/ spot he'd found, a movement that nearly makes Chuuya
cross-eyed with pleasure, but also somehow isn't /enough/.
It feels good,it feels /great/, but without the force of the thrust behind it, it feels like he's being built up /slowly/. Like if he were to just use fingertips on his dick while masturbating, instead of his whole hand.
It feels good,it feels /great/, but without the force of the thrust behind it, it feels like he's being built up /slowly/. Like if he were to just use fingertips on his dick while masturbating, instead of his whole hand.
"Is /that/ how you ask for the things you want?" Dazai says, tone playfully disapproving. His fingers haven't /stopped/, but his other hand has dropped down to pin Chuuya's hips in place, and he's leaning back to sit up straight again.
It's pretty clear that he might not /stop/,
It's pretty clear that he might not /stop/,
but he's definitely not going to give him /more/ until he asks nicely--
"Please?" He asks, letting his voice drop into something pleading. It's not hard; he's already so desperate he might just beg entirely.
The fingers pull back an inch, slam back inside with the most force
"Please?" He asks, letting his voice drop into something pleading. It's not hard; he's already so desperate he might just beg entirely.
The fingers pull back an inch, slam back inside with the most force
yet, and Chuuya gets a /taste/ of what it might be like if Dazai gets rough with him, if he loses /control/, and god, it's so good, he wants /more/, needs it, arching up--
There's a low, foreboding chuckle above him. The sound drapes over Chuuya, smothering him in the feeling of
There's a low, foreboding chuckle above him. The sound drapes over Chuuya, smothering him in the feeling of
complete and utter domination.
"Is that the /best/ you can do? One pretty please? You can do better than that, can't you, beautiful?"
Yes, yes, he /can/, he can do it, he swears--
He opens his mouth, and what comes out is...
Not /exactly/ what he intended to say.
"Is that the /best/ you can do? One pretty please? You can do better than that, can't you, beautiful?"
Yes, yes, he /can/, he can do it, he swears--
He opens his mouth, and what comes out is...
Not /exactly/ what he intended to say.
(In retrospect, he'll realize /exactly/ how he ended up here. He's been staring at Dazai's contact name for weeks now, and the effortless air Dazai gives off, like he can handle anything that ever happens, makes it so easy to give into something he didn't even know he wanted.) +
A teasing roll of Dazai's hips against him is his only warning for the /next/ thrust, driving into him mercilessly and then /staying/ there, pressing against him brutally good--
If he wants Chuuya to beg, then he /will/.
"I-- please, daddy, I'll do /anything/!"
If he wants Chuuya to beg, then he /will/.
"I-- please, daddy, I'll do /anything/!"
Everything /stops/. Dazai's hand, his hips, he's probably not even /breathing/ right now.
Chuuya lets out a choked sob, writhing. It wasn't good enough, he can do it /better/, he opens his mouth to ask again--
"What did you just say?"
Dazai's voice cuts through the haze.
Chuuya lets out a choked sob, writhing. It wasn't good enough, he can do it /better/, he opens his mouth to ask again--
"What did you just say?"
Dazai's voice cuts through the haze.
Chuuya blinks up at him, coherence returning and—
If he thought Dazai looked affected before, that’s nothing compared to /now/.
His eyes are huge in his face, completely pitch black, unblinking. His posture has gone rigid, the muscles in his shoulders standing out starkly.
If he thought Dazai looked affected before, that’s nothing compared to /now/.
His eyes are huge in his face, completely pitch black, unblinking. His posture has gone rigid, the muscles in his shoulders standing out starkly.
There’s a dangerous tilt to his mouth, the flash of his teeth beyond his lips, and even in the low lighting, Chuuya can see how hard his jaw is clenched.
He looks like a predator that just found prey to /pounce/ on, waiting for the exact right moment to strike—
Then what he
He looks like a predator that just found prey to /pounce/ on, waiting for the exact right moment to strike—
Then what he
said finally catches up to him.
Oh. Oh /god/, why would he even say that. He wasn’t thinking, it just—
It just came out, like it was natural and /normal/.
“Um,” Chuuya stalls, suddenly feeling overexposed. He’s only grateful that his body has been so hot for the last few
Oh. Oh /god/, why would he even say that. He wasn’t thinking, it just—
It just came out, like it was natural and /normal/.
“Um,” Chuuya stalls, suddenly feeling overexposed. He’s only grateful that his body has been so hot for the last few
minutes that Dazai won’t be able to tell exertion from /embarrassment/. “I, uh—.”
He looks away—
Or tries to, actually, because soon as his eyes slide away and his head tilts, there’s a large hand shooting out, grabbing him by the chin.
It’s /firm/, the way Dazai holds onto
He looks away—
Or tries to, actually, because soon as his eyes slide away and his head tilts, there’s a large hand shooting out, grabbing him by the chin.
It’s /firm/, the way Dazai holds onto
him and guides him back into place. Not hard enough to leave marks, but forceful enough that Chuuya, shivering, melts into it.
“Don’t be shy, baby. I want you to tell me what you said.”
Before, it was easy, natural.
Now, Dazai’s staring down at him like he’s looking at his
“Don’t be shy, baby. I want you to tell me what you said.”
Before, it was easy, natural.
Now, Dazai’s staring down at him like he’s looking at his
last meal, and it’s /embarrassing/.
His tongue feels thick.
“You said you’d do /anything/, Chuuya. And I want you to /say it again/, loud and clear for me. You can do it; if felt /good/ didn’t it”
It did, /god/, it did, like some shared dirty secret between them.
His tongue feels thick.
“You said you’d do /anything/, Chuuya. And I want you to /say it again/, loud and clear for me. You can do it; if felt /good/ didn’t it”
It did, /god/, it did, like some shared dirty secret between them.
Half of his embarrassment came from the idea that maybe Dazai didn't like it, or he thought it was weird. But with the way he's /staring/ at him and demanding that he say it again--
It's clear that he liked it /too/.
Which makes it infinitely easier to ignore the embarrassment
It's clear that he liked it /too/.
Which makes it infinitely easier to ignore the embarrassment
and put the lingering shame aside to open his mouth and let a whispered "please, /daddy/," roll off his tongue.
There's a heartbeat of silence, of stillness, as Dazai's eyes grow even /darker/, and his smile tips up into something sinfully sharp and delicious--
And then he's
There's a heartbeat of silence, of stillness, as Dazai's eyes grow even /darker/, and his smile tips up into something sinfully sharp and delicious--
And then he's
being /devoured/. That's the only way he can describe it.
Dazai's fingers twist inside him, wringing hot pleasure from him until he gasps and shudders in reaction. At the same time, Dazai is leaning down, covering his mouth with his own, drinking the pleasure off his lips and
Dazai's fingers twist inside him, wringing hot pleasure from him until he gasps and shudders in reaction. At the same time, Dazai is leaning down, covering his mouth with his own, drinking the pleasure off his lips and
demanding /more/. His tongue fills his mouth, rubbing against his in slow strokes,a counter rhythm to the way his fingers are pulling out and hammering back in--
Chuuya feels drunk on it,stretched between Dazai's talented hands like melted candy, sugar-sweet and aching for more.
Chuuya feels drunk on it,stretched between Dazai's talented hands like melted candy, sugar-sweet and aching for more.
"Again," Dazai demands, the control in his tone almost impossible to disobey, especially when it's pressed directly into his mouth. "Say it again for me."
For someone who /wants/ to hear him say it, he makes it as /difficult/ as possible. Whenever Chuuya opens his mouth again,
For someone who /wants/ to hear him say it, he makes it as /difficult/ as possible. Whenever Chuuya opens his mouth again,
he drives his fingers forward, or rocks his hips into him, or sucks on his lip until Chuuya feels like he’s being swept away into a storm of sensation, willingly drowning.
He lets out a choked groan, digging his nails into the back of Dazai’s neck. His leg tightens, pulling
He lets out a choked groan, digging his nails into the back of Dazai’s neck. His leg tightens, pulling
him into each thrust of his fingers, and it mimics the sensation of being /fucked/.
Dazai moves to the side, scraping his teeth over his cheeks in sharp demand. Chuuya can /finally/ take a clear breath, air burning hot in his lungs and the aftertaste of Dazai on his tongue.
Dazai moves to the side, scraping his teeth over his cheeks in sharp demand. Chuuya can /finally/ take a clear breath, air burning hot in his lungs and the aftertaste of Dazai on his tongue.
“I— fuck, Dazai,” he pants, trying to get /some/ awareness back into himself—
Which is promptly whisked away when Dazai /bites/ him, teeth punishingly sharp. It stings a little, making him cry out.
The pain is soothed with a kiss, but Dazai’s voice is a low, displeased rumble.
Which is promptly whisked away when Dazai /bites/ him, teeth punishingly sharp. It stings a little, making him cry out.
The pain is soothed with a kiss, but Dazai’s voice is a low, displeased rumble.
“No,” he says, “that’s not what I asked for. That’s not what you called me.”
His hand is slowly again, pleasure beginning to fade and god, okay, /okay/, he’ll do it, he’ll do whatever Dazai wants, just don’t /stop/—
“Daddy,” he moans, shuddering when his instant reward is
His hand is slowly again, pleasure beginning to fade and god, okay, /okay/, he’ll do it, he’ll do whatever Dazai wants, just don’t /stop/—
“Daddy,” he moans, shuddering when his instant reward is
another twist of his fingers.
“Beautiful,” Dazai whispers softly, voice thick. He presses a kiss to his cheek, so /soft/ compared to the way his hand is practically forcing pleasure into him with the will of a conqueror—
“Again.”
From there, Chuuya discovers that its
“Beautiful,” Dazai whispers softly, voice thick. He presses a kiss to his cheek, so /soft/ compared to the way his hand is practically forcing pleasure into him with the will of a conqueror—
“Again.”
From there, Chuuya discovers that its
actually pretty /easy/.
All he has to do is let his mind go numb and say whatever comes to his tongue first— usually a mix of ‘daddy’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘please’, depending on what Dazai is doing to him— and just...
/Enjoy/ what he’s being given. Enjoy the pleasure, the
All he has to do is let his mind go numb and say whatever comes to his tongue first— usually a mix of ‘daddy’ and ‘fuck’ and ‘please’, depending on what Dazai is doing to him— and just...
/Enjoy/ what he’s being given. Enjoy the pleasure, the
feeling of Dazai over him, all around him.
There's a mouth working over his face and neck, smearing words there, an indulgent response to Chuuya's every moan and tremble.
"Beautiful."
"Perfect for /me/."
"Doing /so/ good, take it /so/ well. Say it again, lovely."
There's a mouth working over his face and neck, smearing words there, an indulgent response to Chuuya's every moan and tremble.
"Beautiful."
"Perfect for /me/."
"Doing /so/ good, take it /so/ well. Say it again, lovely."
Every word out of Dazai's mouth, every thrust of his fingers or his hips, feels like it drops directly into Chuuya's chest, burrowing into his heart and making it throb in time.
The pulse roaring in his ears is punctuated by a harsh "So fucking pretty."
The tension building in
The pulse roaring in his ears is punctuated by a harsh "So fucking pretty."
The tension building in
his stomach and thighs is urged tighter with every grind of his fingers inside him, the roll of Dazai's hips in time.
His cock /hurts/ from neglect, but it still feels so good the only thing he can do is buck underneath him, raking his nails up his back.
"I need," Chuuya chokes
His cock /hurts/ from neglect, but it still feels so good the only thing he can do is buck underneath him, raking his nails up his back.
"I need," Chuuya chokes
out, thigh trembling around Dazai's hip. His own hip is starting to strain with how far it's pushed up, but the achy-pain just adds to the building storm.
"Hm?" Dazai hums, moving onto a different spot on his neck. With how hard it's throbbing, he's probably left /marks/. "Tell
"Hm?" Dazai hums, moving onto a different spot on his neck. With how hard it's throbbing, he's probably left /marks/. "Tell
Daddy what you need."
Hearing Dazai refer to /himself/ like that snaps what little restraint Chuuya has left, setting him ablaze.
He doesn't even feel like a person anymore, just a writhing column of fire, expertly shaped by Dazai's hands and fanned hotter with his breath.
Hearing Dazai refer to /himself/ like that snaps what little restraint Chuuya has left, setting him ablaze.
He doesn't even feel like a person anymore, just a writhing column of fire, expertly shaped by Dazai's hands and fanned hotter with his breath.
He doesn't feel shame or embarrassment, or anything /else/, just a deepening pit of pleasure and desire.
On the next thrust in, he claws at Dazai's back, relishing at the growl it earns him. He hooks his leg tighter around him, pulling him /in/--
"Fuck me? Please, Daddy."
On the next thrust in, he claws at Dazai's back, relishing at the growl it earns him. He hooks his leg tighter around him, pulling him /in/--
"Fuck me? Please, Daddy."
(Dazai is quickly discovering that being a good man is not only overrated but it also fucking /sucks/.
Because here he is, knuckle deep in one of most beautiful people he's ever met, one that's gasping and pleading for him and calling him /Daddy/--which that in itself feels like
Because here he is, knuckle deep in one of most beautiful people he's ever met, one that's gasping and pleading for him and calling him /Daddy/--which that in itself feels like
feels like a fever dream he manifested into reality during his daydreaming on the plane-- and there's nothing /stopping/ him from giving into his plea.
Nothing, this is, except his own -- often skewed, but /always/ correct when it comes to Chuuya-- moral compass.
By his own
Nothing, this is, except his own -- often skewed, but /always/ correct when it comes to Chuuya-- moral compass.
By his own
admittance, this is the /first/ time he's had something inside him.
Chuuya's voice from that phone call a while ago floats through his mind. / Not really. /
Dazai can feel it too. It takes him a while to relax, even as eager as he is, and his inner muscles cling to his fingers
Chuuya's voice from that phone call a while ago floats through his mind. / Not really. /
Dazai can feel it too. It takes him a while to relax, even as eager as he is, and his inner muscles cling to his fingers
like they can't decide if they want to push him out or pull him /deeper/.
He also has a tendency to tense up when something unexpected happens, which is fine and completely normal--
But that might spell /disaster/ for their first time, if he's not properly prepared.
Does
He also has a tendency to tense up when something unexpected happens, which is fine and completely normal--
But that might spell /disaster/ for their first time, if he's not properly prepared.
Does
Dazai /want/ to fuck him? Absolutely.
Does Dazai /want/ to hear his broken, choked moan when he's being filled for the first time, the harsh breathing that Dazai will kiss away? /Yes/.
Does Dazai want to have their first time on a balcony, rushed and not thought through? Not
Does Dazai /want/ to hear his broken, choked moan when he's being filled for the first time, the harsh breathing that Dazai will kiss away? /Yes/.
Does Dazai want to have their first time on a balcony, rushed and not thought through? Not
particularly.
Does Dazai want Chuuya's /first/ time to be anything less than mind-blowingly amazing? Absolutely not.
Not that he doubts his skills or anything, because he has Chuuya almost /crying/ on two fingers alone, but he's skating on the razor-thin edge of his control.
Does Dazai want Chuuya's /first/ time to be anything less than mind-blowingly amazing? Absolutely not.
Not that he doubts his skills or anything, because he has Chuuya almost /crying/ on two fingers alone, but he's skating on the razor-thin edge of his control.
He wouldn't hurt Chuuya on /purpose/-- well, not unless he /liked/ that, in which case he's all for it-- but he doesn't want to end up losing control with Chuuya unknowing and unprepared for what's to come.
Because as much as he might beg for Dazai's cock, he doesn't know what
Because as much as he might beg for Dazai's cock, he doesn't know what
that means, what it /feels/ like--
God, being a good man is the worst thing that's happened to him, he mourns silently. His erection, trapped behind his zipper, is so hard it /hurts/ and Chuuya rocking up against him isn't /helping/ his self-control.)
For a moment, Chuuya
God, being a good man is the worst thing that's happened to him, he mourns silently. His erection, trapped behind his zipper, is so hard it /hurts/ and Chuuya rocking up against him isn't /helping/ his self-control.)
For a moment, Chuuya
thrills in the feeling of /victory/. Because he /did/ it, he asked nicely, just the way Dazai wanted him to, and he knows Dazai will give him anything he asks for--
"No," Dazai says against his neck, low. "I want to see if you cum for me like this. Just like this."
To prove
"No," Dazai says against his neck, low. "I want to see if you cum for me like this. Just like this."
To prove
his point, he spreads his fingers inside him. The stretch and the slide of his fingertips over his most sensitive spot makes his eyes cross, head tilting back to give him even better access.
Still, the pleasure doesn't /quite/ drown out the disappointment because--
"But I
Still, the pleasure doesn't /quite/ drown out the disappointment because--
"But I
need--," he protests, voice catching when Dazai slides his fingers /out/, keeping them spread, stretching his muscles with intoxicating friction-burn. "I need /more/."
"More," Dazai repeats, stilling a little. He's got a /tone/, like he just thought of something /wicked/. "I
"More," Dazai repeats, stilling a little. He's got a /tone/, like he just thought of something /wicked/. "I
can help with that.”
Before Chuuya can even blink, Dazai is pulling back /entirely/. Fingers sliding out completely, moving away from his neck to sit up completely.
Instantly bereft, Chuuya whimpers and reaches out for him. This isn’t /more/, this is the /opposite/ of more,
Before Chuuya can even blink, Dazai is pulling back /entirely/. Fingers sliding out completely, moving away from his neck to sit up completely.
Instantly bereft, Chuuya whimpers and reaches out for him. This isn’t /more/, this is the /opposite/ of more,
this is /nothing/, and his body feels cold and empty and tingly without it—
Firm hands grip his hips and flip him over. Yelping, he catches himself on the arm of the couch with his hands to keep himself from head butting it.
There’s a whispered kiss between his shoulder blades,
Firm hands grip his hips and flip him over. Yelping, he catches himself on the arm of the couch with his hands to keep himself from head butting it.
There’s a whispered kiss between his shoulder blades,
a silent apology.
(You see, Dazai /thought/ he was being smart. Looking at Chuuya’s face was too /tempting/, with his flushed cheeks and pretty red lips and dazed eyes. If Chuuya kept asking and /looking/ at him like that, like Dazai is his entire world, so trusting and willing
(You see, Dazai /thought/ he was being smart. Looking at Chuuya’s face was too /tempting/, with his flushed cheeks and pretty red lips and dazed eyes. If Chuuya kept asking and /looking/ at him like that, like Dazai is his entire world, so trusting and willing
beneath him, the kind of look that Dazai has /rarely/ gotten before and never so /quickly/ or easily—
So he thought:
/I just won’t look at his face. Everything will be perfect then. No more temptation, no more thoughts of giving in./
He is quickly realizing that his idea is
So he thought:
/I just won’t look at his face. Everything will be perfect then. No more temptation, no more thoughts of giving in./
He is quickly realizing that his idea is
not as smart as he thought it was because—
Now he has the view of twin red braids brushing over Chuuya’s shoulders, long enough to /pull/, highlighting the freckles on his shoulders—which are adorable, by the way, Dazai wants to /bite them/.
His spine, flexible and moving
Now he has the view of twin red braids brushing over Chuuya’s shoulders, long enough to /pull/, highlighting the freckles on his shoulders—which are adorable, by the way, Dazai wants to /bite them/.
His spine, flexible and moving
sensually, making the muscles on either side flex and contract.
Then /lower/, his skirt— the one Dazai bought him, and the necklace too and /god/ the thought of buying him pretty things just to take him apart in them is almost too good to resist— is bunched up around his hips.
Then /lower/, his skirt— the one Dazai bought him, and the necklace too and /god/ the thought of buying him pretty things just to take him apart in them is almost too good to resist— is bunched up around his hips.
And his /ass/, perfectly round and just big enough to be a /handful/. Dazai can’t /wait/ to get his teeth on it, his /tongue/—
And because of the low lighting, there’s the /faintest/ sheen of light reflecting off the lube that trailed down his cheeks and between, where Dazai
And because of the low lighting, there’s the /faintest/ sheen of light reflecting off the lube that trailed down his cheeks and between, where Dazai
has been fingering him open for the last 15 minutes and—
Dazai is suddenly and /viscerally/ reminded that he loves the taste of strawberries.)
It’s different like this, Chuuya decides, but /good/.
When they first switched positions, there was a moment of intense silence from
Dazai is suddenly and /viscerally/ reminded that he loves the taste of strawberries.)
It’s different like this, Chuuya decides, but /good/.
When they first switched positions, there was a moment of intense silence from
behind him that starts to bring Chuuya out of his pleasure-induced haze—
But then it’s over, and Dazai is draping himself over his back, covering him completely.
His lips lands on Chuuya’s shoulder, mouthing at the sensitive skin. At the same time, he tilts his hips downward
But then it’s over, and Dazai is draping himself over his back, covering him completely.
His lips lands on Chuuya’s shoulder, mouthing at the sensitive skin. At the same time, he tilts his hips downward
with one hand, encouraging his back to arch, and with the other—
After a quick slide over the extra lube on his ass, two fingers slide back inside him. Somehow they feel /bigger/ at this angle, impossible to think past.
Not being able to see Dazai heightens everything, because
After a quick slide over the extra lube on his ass, two fingers slide back inside him. Somehow they feel /bigger/ at this angle, impossible to think past.
Not being able to see Dazai heightens everything, because
he can’t /anticipate/. The only warning he gets is a split-second shift of his body, and by the time Chuuya puts together what’s going to@happen, it already /is/ happening.
It also leaves him with a surprising lack of control. He can rock backwards into Dazai’s hand, but that’s
It also leaves him with a surprising lack of control. He can rock backwards into Dazai’s hand, but that’s
about it. Even that's wholly insufficient, because Dazai likes to pull back at the same time, reducing the strength of the thrust to almost nothing.
With his hands clawing at the arm of the couch, and his erection hanging neglected between his thighs, Chuuya feels like he's
With his hands clawing at the arm of the couch, and his erection hanging neglected between his thighs, Chuuya feels like he's
going to lose his /mind/.
His thighs tremble, weakened by pleasure and the weight of Dazai leaning on top of him. He's half-afraid that his body is going to give out beneath him.
"Better?" Dazai asks, a /little/ mockingly, just enough to have Chuuya lifting his head from where
His thighs tremble, weakened by pleasure and the weight of Dazai leaning on top of him. He's half-afraid that his body is going to give out beneath him.
"Better?" Dazai asks, a /little/ mockingly, just enough to have Chuuya lifting his head from where
it's hanging between his shoulders, opening his mouth to tell him that /no, it's not better, this is worse, you said you'd give me more/--
But then Dazai's fingers hook /up/, finding the spot that sends pleasure pulsing through him with unerring accuracy and /staying/ there.
But then Dazai's fingers hook /up/, finding the spot that sends pleasure pulsing through him with unerring accuracy and /staying/ there.
The way his fingers massage into him is /maddening/, sparking pleasure that builds in his veins. It’s /too/ good, building him up higher and higher but not never pushing him over the edge.
Instead of words, the only thing that escapes his mouth is a loud, keening moan, coming
Instead of words, the only thing that escapes his mouth is a loud, keening moan, coming
from deep in his chest.
A smug smile is pressed against his shoulder blade. “That’s what I thought.”
Frustration crackles through Chuuya. It feels good, but it also feels like a /tease/, because he’s no more closer to his orgasm than before and he wants it /so bad/.
A smug smile is pressed against his shoulder blade. “That’s what I thought.”
Frustration crackles through Chuuya. It feels good, but it also feels like a /tease/, because he’s no more closer to his orgasm than before and he wants it /so bad/.
So when he opens his mouth next, he’s not thinking. He’s only /reacting/, feeling strung out and teased and /neglected/. “Fuck you. Stop /teasing/ me, you—.”
/Crack/.
Chuuya jolts forward, more surprised than hurt at the stinging smack Dazai had given his ass.
/Crack/.
Chuuya jolts forward, more surprised than hurt at the stinging smack Dazai had given his ass.
“What am I going to do with you?” Dazai sighs, his disapproving tone at odds with the way his fingers are grinding /hard/ into him, trying to get even deeper. “Here I am, being so nice to you— and then you have to go and be /bratty/.”
His voice drops suddenly lower, seeping
His voice drops suddenly lower, seeping
into the air like smoke, drugging and hazy. “And /then/,” he continues, his other hand gripping his smarting asscheek. His palm presses the heat of impact into his skin, soothing and burning in equal measures. “You /liked/ it when I spanked you, didn’t you?”
Chuuya shakes his head, denying it out of instinct.
It's a lie. He /did/ like it. The tinge of pain adds an edge to the pleasure, a sharp point that feels like it carves into him, hollows him out and molds him into a new shape around the sensations.
It makes him feel /more/,
It's a lie. He /did/ like it. The tinge of pain adds an edge to the pleasure, a sharp point that feels like it carves into him, hollows him out and molds him into a new shape around the sensations.
It makes him feel /more/,
deeper, /better/. The same way that warmth feels incredible after a short while of being cold.
The hand on his ass leaves, and Chuuya has to bite his lip to keep himself from making a disappointed noise.
One of his braids gets a tug, just hard enough to get his attention and
The hand on his ass leaves, and Chuuya has to bite his lip to keep himself from making a disappointed noise.
One of his braids gets a tug, just hard enough to get his attention and
pull his face up.
"Don't /lie/ to me," Dazai says reproachfully, pulling out his fingers a little just to drive them back in, "I felt you tighten up around my fingers."
Chuuya says absolutely nothing, arching his back to push his hips further into Dazai's hold. It's a silent
"Don't /lie/ to me," Dazai says reproachfully, pulling out his fingers a little just to drive them back in, "I felt you tighten up around my fingers."
Chuuya says absolutely nothing, arching his back to push his hips further into Dazai's hold. It's a silent
plea, because he doesn't want to /verbally/ admit that he was into it, his reaction was already /enough/. If Dazai can already /tell/, why does he need to say it?
"No? If you /didn't/ like it then, I suppose that I won't do it again..."
The taunt is clear, but Chuuya falls for
"No? If you /didn't/ like it then, I suppose that I won't do it again..."
The taunt is clear, but Chuuya falls for
it anyways. "Wait, please--."
The hand returns to his ass, squeezing the cheek and spreading it, fingers firm. It's /embarrassing/, being so exposed like that, but it's overshadowed by the sheer need pulsing through him.
"You don't have to /ask/, baby-- you just have to tell
The hand returns to his ass, squeezing the cheek and spreading it, fingers firm. It's /embarrassing/, being so exposed like that, but it's overshadowed by the sheer need pulsing through him.
"You don't have to /ask/, baby-- you just have to tell
me if you liked it or not."
His body is screaming yes, but his mind is begging him to keep one last shred of his dignity intact. The conflicting needs cause tension to rise, building in his throat--
The choice is taken from him when Dazai /taps/ at his ass, so lightly he can
His body is screaming yes, but his mind is begging him to keep one last shred of his dignity intact. The conflicting needs cause tension to rise, building in his throat--
The choice is taken from him when Dazai /taps/ at his ass, so lightly he can
barely even feel it, more a /pat/ than anything.
And with that, the subtle reminder of sensation, the thought of what it /could/ feel like--
Chuuya /breaks/.
His forehead presses against the arm of the couch, eyes unfocused as he pants for breath. "I liked it," he mumbles.
And with that, the subtle reminder of sensation, the thought of what it /could/ feel like--
Chuuya /breaks/.
His forehead presses against the arm of the couch, eyes unfocused as he pants for breath. "I liked it," he mumbles.
"Louder. I can't hear you."
God, Dazai /revels/ in getting Chuuya to embarrass himself, doesn't he? First the daddy thing and now /this/. He never makes it /easy/ on him.
He likes to overwhelm him with pleasure, tease him with what he /wants/, and then watches him struggle for
God, Dazai /revels/ in getting Chuuya to embarrass himself, doesn't he? First the daddy thing and now /this/. He never makes it /easy/ on him.
He likes to overwhelm him with pleasure, tease him with what he /wants/, and then watches him struggle for
it.
Is that what /sadism/ looks like, because this is just mean.
(Chuuya will learn, later, exactly what /sadism/ is, and how easily Dazai can fill that role--
But not now.)
"I liked it," he repeats, louder. His voice is a mix of sulkiness and breathy need, heard only
Is that what /sadism/ looks like, because this is just mean.
(Chuuya will learn, later, exactly what /sadism/ is, and how easily Dazai can fill that role--
But not now.)
"I liked it," he repeats, louder. His voice is a mix of sulkiness and breathy need, heard only
because the only sounds out here are /them/.
"Good boy," Chuuya hears from behind him, and the sheer /satisfaction/ that rips through him with that phrase is shocking in itself--
And it's /accented/ by another smack, this one a little harder than the last, more centered over
"Good boy," Chuuya hears from behind him, and the sheer /satisfaction/ that rips through him with that phrase is shocking in itself--
And it's /accented/ by another smack, this one a little harder than the last, more centered over
the cheek, palm cupped so it makes a nice /crack/.
Heat floods through him, pushed higher by the way Dazai /grabs/ him, hand pressing impact-heat deeply into his skin. He can feel himself warming up, a pleasant tingling-numbness growing over where he was smacked.
"Again," he
Heat floods through him, pushed higher by the way Dazai /grabs/ him, hand pressing impact-heat deeply into his skin. He can feel himself warming up, a pleasant tingling-numbness growing over where he was smacked.
"Again," he
demands breathlessly, arching his back as far as it will go. "Please," he adds as an afterthought.
/Smack/.
"Such /attitude/," Dazai muses, and his voice is chillingly smooth in the face of impact. "What /am/ I going to do with you?"
It sounds like a rhetorical question, but
/Smack/.
"Such /attitude/," Dazai muses, and his voice is chillingly smooth in the face of impact. "What /am/ I going to do with you?"
It sounds like a rhetorical question, but
Chuuya has practically been trained to answer all questions loudly and clearly, so he tries again--
"Fuck me?"
Another spank, this one leaving him panting and clinging onto the edge of the couch, a haze building in his mind. He feels strung tight, almost ready to break, but
"Fuck me?"
Another spank, this one leaving him panting and clinging onto the edge of the couch, a haze building in his mind. He feels strung tight, almost ready to break, but
also /melted/ at the same time,his body giving into Dazai's whims without worry of reaching the peak.
"Oh,baby. You haven't done what I asked for yet."
Chuuya casts back frantically, wondering what instruction he had missed.
/ "I want to see if you can cum for me like this." /
"Oh,baby. You haven't done what I asked for yet."
Chuuya casts back frantically, wondering what instruction he had missed.
/ "I want to see if you can cum for me like this." /
And god, it seems /impossible/, because he's never came /without/ friction on his cock, and even though Dazai finger-fucking him is good, obviously, it's--
Is it /enough/?
He doesn't /know/ and he wants to /try/, but he doesn't want to /fail/ either, he wants to be /good/.
Is it /enough/?
He doesn't /know/ and he wants to /try/, but he doesn't want to /fail/ either, he wants to be /good/.
But it seems /impossible/, and it's frustrating to be built up, higher and higher, with only the /possibility/ of the end in sight--
Dazai pulls his fingers out, slow, and Chuuya's face /burns/ at the slick, wet noises the motion makes. It's horribly loud in the sudden silence.
Dazai pulls his fingers out, slow, and Chuuya's face /burns/ at the slick, wet noises the motion makes. It's horribly loud in the sudden silence.
Then there's /three/ fingers pressing into him, and if he thought the stretch was far /before/--
It's nothing compared to now.
Dazai's fingers are bunched together, /thick/, each ridge of the joints grinding against his rim. They're /long/ too, impossibly long, and now that
It's nothing compared to now.
Dazai's fingers are bunched together, /thick/, each ridge of the joints grinding against his rim. They're /long/ too, impossibly long, and now that
Chuuya isn't being kissed by him or looking at him,he's able to /feel/ every centimeter of his fingers sliding slowly into him and /ache/ for more.
Chuuya's always liked to push his limits. Finds satisfaction and pleasure in the ache of overused muscles, and the burning soreness
Chuuya's always liked to push his limits. Finds satisfaction and pleasure in the ache of overused muscles, and the burning soreness
that comes the day after.
/This/ is like blending the sensations together, a burning-pain that adds a deeper, more intoxicating depth to the pleasure. It draws him in, throws him higher, makes him /hotter/.
By the time Dazai's knuckles press against him, Chuuya is nearly
/This/ is like blending the sensations together, a burning-pain that adds a deeper, more intoxicating depth to the pleasure. It draws him in, throws him higher, makes him /hotter/.
By the time Dazai's knuckles press against him, Chuuya is nearly
mindless with sensation, eyes rolling back in his head.
God, this is /way/ better than he ever thought. Better than any half-assed fantasy or even that one wet dream from so long ago.
Dazai's fingers crook upward, zeroing in on the spot that makes rapture pulse through him.
God, this is /way/ better than he ever thought. Better than any half-assed fantasy or even that one wet dream from so long ago.
Dazai's fingers crook upward, zeroing in on the spot that makes rapture pulse through him.
Instead of thrusting, he just grinds his fingers in, a constant rotating pressure that sends him soaring higher and higher, moaning louder, /louder/.
/Crack!/
Another spank, this one the hardest yet, setting sparks down his thighs and up his spine, and Chuuya is /gone/.
/Crack!/
Another spank, this one the hardest yet, setting sparks down his thighs and up his spine, and Chuuya is /gone/.
The tension snaps, letting him drop from the ledge he'd been built to. It's more intense than any orgasm he's had before. The others were good, but restricted to a skin-deep layer, leaving him breathless and vulnerable in the wake.
/This/ one feels soul-deep, rocking the very
/This/ one feels soul-deep, rocking the very
foundations of his body. An earthquake that leaves him cracked open, filled with so much heat and pleasure and desire that he hardly feels him /himself/ anymore.
Dazai's fingers are still working inside him, pressing white-hot ecstasy into him with no mercy. He's drawn closer,
Dazai's fingers are still working inside him, pressing white-hot ecstasy into him with no mercy. He's drawn closer,
blanketing himself over Chuuya's back and pressing open-mouthed kisses over his shoulder blade. His other hand has come around, palm on his chest.
The way his thumb strokes rhythmically over his skin is soothing, a grounding motion when Chuuya feels like he might /lose/ himself
The way his thumb strokes rhythmically over his skin is soothing, a grounding motion when Chuuya feels like he might /lose/ himself
in the pleasure.
Every time he starts to wind down, Dazai just moves his fingers again, building him back up. Chuuya doesn't know if it feels good or if it /hurts/, all he knows is that he's on /fire/ and Dazai is helping him burn.
He's barely aware of the noises he's making,
Every time he starts to wind down, Dazai just moves his fingers again, building him back up. Chuuya doesn't know if it feels good or if it /hurts/, all he knows is that he's on /fire/ and Dazai is helping him burn.
He's barely aware of the noises he's making,
loud cries and desperate sobs, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath only for Dazai to punch it right out of him again.
(Dazai is listening /very/ intensely, fascinated. He predicted that Chuuya would be loud, but he /didn't/ anticipate just how shameless he would be in
(Dazai is listening /very/ intensely, fascinated. He predicted that Chuuya would be loud, but he /didn't/ anticipate just how shameless he would be in
the moment.
Because he's almost /screaming/,so loud the downstairs neighbors can /definitely/ hear him, and in between the incoherent cries is a garbled mess of "daddy" and "/fuck/ yes" and "oh my /god/".
That, combined with the way Chuuya is melting into him, blindly accepting
Because he's almost /screaming/,so loud the downstairs neighbors can /definitely/ hear him, and in between the incoherent cries is a garbled mess of "daddy" and "/fuck/ yes" and "oh my /god/".
That, combined with the way Chuuya is melting into him, blindly accepting
the way Dazai keeps pushing him higher even though he's probably riding the line between pleasure and overstimulated pain, is doing /wonders/ for Dazai.
Chuuya is clenching around his fingers in waves, so tight he can barely move, and he can't help but imagine that tight wetness
Chuuya is clenching around his fingers in waves, so tight he can barely move, and he can't help but imagine that tight wetness
would feel around his /cock/, squeezing him so hard he might see stars from it.
He's grinding against the back of Chuuya's thigh, blindly chasing every ounce of pleasure he can get. Should he be embarrassed that he's quickly climbing to the peak, even with no direct stimulation
He's grinding against the back of Chuuya's thigh, blindly chasing every ounce of pleasure he can get. Should he be embarrassed that he's quickly climbing to the peak, even with no direct stimulation
other than his imagination and Chuuya moaning for him?
Probably. Does he care? Not particularly, because he's finding that Chuuya pushes him to new heights even when he's not /trying/.
Hoping Chuuya can hold himself up by himself, Dazai takes away the hand on his chest. He
Probably. Does he care? Not particularly, because he's finding that Chuuya pushes him to new heights even when he's not /trying/.
Hoping Chuuya can hold himself up by himself, Dazai takes away the hand on his chest. He
reaches /down/,shoving down his jeans as quickly and safely as possible.
The first touch of his hand on his erection makes him hiss. The friction feels /amazing/ after so long of being neglected,and it's the easiest thing in the world to fall into a rhythm, focusing on the head.
The first touch of his hand on his erection makes him hiss. The friction feels /amazing/ after so long of being neglected,and it's the easiest thing in the world to fall into a rhythm, focusing on the head.
It's a little too dry for his tastes, but the tip smears across the wet trails over Chuuya's ass, and that's enough for him.
He spreads his fingers wide, listening for the shocked cry and shudder it draws from Chuuya and--
He could do it. He could fuck him. Right now.
He spreads his fingers wide, listening for the shocked cry and shudder it draws from Chuuya and--
He could do it. He could fuck him. Right now.
He wants it, /Chuuya/ wants it. After his orgasm, he’s so beautifully pliant, his muscles melting around his fingers.
Being as /big/ as he is, and as small as Chuuya is, Dazai should probably give him four fingers before daring to go further but—
But it won’t take /long/.
Being as /big/ as he is, and as small as Chuuya is, Dazai should probably give him four fingers before daring to go further but—
But it won’t take /long/.
Dazai is already halfway there, like some teenage boy, but it’s not like Chuuya knows any better.
It’s so hard to /think/, with his body screaming at him with need, and Chuuya’s broken moans in his ears and hot skin underneath him, so willing, so /tempting/.
God.
It’s so hard to /think/, with his body screaming at him with need, and Chuuya’s broken moans in his ears and hot skin underneath him, so willing, so /tempting/.
God.
It’s a rare thing, for Dazai to lose control during sex. Sex is usually the opposite for him— an outlet where he is in complete and utter control, something to settle into and distract himself with when his life feels like a series of decisions that keep spiraling and dragging
him deeper.
He likes control. He /thrives/ in control, feels best when he knows exactly what is happening and what comes next.
But Chuuya digs beneath that, crawling underneath his careful restraint to tease the beast that is trapped beneath. The savage thing in his soul, the
He likes control. He /thrives/ in control, feels best when he knows exactly what is happening and what comes next.
But Chuuya digs beneath that, crawling underneath his careful restraint to tease the beast that is trapped beneath. The savage thing in his soul, the
one that rebels in sex and blood and the /taking/ of things, seeking pleasure and domination in anything it can.
It’s /dangerous/.
Not because Dazai would hurt Chuuya in a way he didn’t like, but because he’s still so new to sex, and theyre still so new to eachother—
It only
It’s /dangerous/.
Not because Dazai would hurt Chuuya in a way he didn’t like, but because he’s still so new to sex, and theyre still so new to eachother—
It only
takes /one time/ to damage the trust and confidence Chuuya is building. It only takes giving him more than he can handle /once/, to set him back.
Dazai would rather chew off his own arm than make the little thing in his arms feel anything other than cherished and safe—
And he’s
Dazai would rather chew off his own arm than make the little thing in his arms feel anything other than cherished and safe—
And he’s
starting to think that might be /necessary/, because he’s holding onto the shreds on his restraint with his /teeth/.
God /dammit/.
/ Just a little more/, he tells himself grimly, letting his fingers slide out of him, /a little/. )
Chuuya shudders when the fingers leave him,
God /dammit/.
/ Just a little more/, he tells himself grimly, letting his fingers slide out of him, /a little/. )
Chuuya shudders when the fingers leave him,
feeling oddly empty and cold.
Dazai still isn’t finished though— he can feel his hand moving and his erection bumping against him— so he opens his mouth to offer to jerk him off or give him another blowjob or /something, when—
Dazai moves, lining their hips together and /this/
Dazai still isn’t finished though— he can feel his hand moving and his erection bumping against him— so he opens his mouth to offer to jerk him off or give him another blowjob or /something, when—
Dazai moves, lining their hips together and /this/
time, his cock slides between his cheeks, over his entrance, burning a hot, thick line against him.
Oh god, okay, it’s /happening/.
It’s a little intimidating, to be honest, because Dazai feels a /lot/ bigger like this, a lot thicker. For a moment, Chuuya has this wild thought
Oh god, okay, it’s /happening/.
It’s a little intimidating, to be honest, because Dazai feels a /lot/ bigger like this, a lot thicker. For a moment, Chuuya has this wild thought
that he’s going to have Dazai’s cock in his /lungs/ with how big it is—
He pushes back against him anyways, because his /body/ wants it, and his mind might be wary but he /also/ knows Dazai won’t hurt him.
But as soon as he moves, hard hands clamp around his hips, so forceful
He pushes back against him anyways, because his /body/ wants it, and his mind might be wary but he /also/ knows Dazai won’t hurt him.
But as soon as he moves, hard hands clamp around his hips, so forceful
that he’s sucking in a sharp breath.
“Do /not/ move,” Dazai /snarls/, sounding rougher and more feral than Chuuya has /ever/ heard him.
It’s not a conscious decision, the way Chuuya melts into his grip and lets himself be handled into the exact position Dazai wants him in.
“Do /not/ move,” Dazai /snarls/, sounding rougher and more feral than Chuuya has /ever/ heard him.
It’s not a conscious decision, the way Chuuya melts into his grip and lets himself be handled into the exact position Dazai wants him in.
Which is—
Hips /high/, spine arched as far as it will go, forehead resting on the arm of the couch.
He holds position, shivering every time Dazai’s cock slides against his ass. There’s a moment, when the head catches against his rim, where he /thinks/ Dazai is finally going
Hips /high/, spine arched as far as it will go, forehead resting on the arm of the couch.
He holds position, shivering every time Dazai’s cock slides against his ass. There’s a moment, when the head catches against his rim, where he /thinks/ Dazai is finally going
to press inside—
But he doesn’t, keeping instead to a hard, desperate grind against him.
(Meanwhile, Dazai is /resolutely/ staring at the back of Chuuya’s head, where the braids shift on his shoulders with every rock of his hips.
If he looks /down/ he’ll see the red imprint
But he doesn’t, keeping instead to a hard, desperate grind against him.
(Meanwhile, Dazai is /resolutely/ staring at the back of Chuuya’s head, where the braids shift on his shoulders with every rock of his hips.
If he looks /down/ he’ll see the red imprint
of his hand on Chuuya’s ass, a matching color to his flushed cock and he’s going to /lose it/.
Similarly, if he looks at Chuuya’s face and sees that soft, open-mouthed, hazy-eyed, /pleading/ expression, what remains of his self-control will quickly dissolve.
He’s getting close
Similarly, if he looks at Chuuya’s face and sees that soft, open-mouthed, hazy-eyed, /pleading/ expression, what remains of his self-control will quickly dissolve.
He’s getting close
himself, fighting for his orgasm. It’s creeping closer, tightening at the base of his spine, drawn tighter with every lube-slick thrust between Chuuya’s asscheeks.
The little /noises/ Chuuya is making too, /god/. Soft, quiet, punched out breaths, tinged with a hint of a moan
The little /noises/ Chuuya is making too, /god/. Soft, quiet, punched out breaths, tinged with a hint of a moan
underneath, like it feels good just to be /used/ like this, for Dazai’s pleasure—
The thought is too much.)
Groans are muffled against Chuuya’s shoulder, muffled words that he can only pick out parts of.
It all feels very /nice/ though, and Chuuya melts into the feeling.
The thought is too much.)
Groans are muffled against Chuuya’s shoulder, muffled words that he can only pick out parts of.
It all feels very /nice/ though, and Chuuya melts into the feeling.
The warm, satiated pliancy of a good orgasm, the heat of Dazai over him, the slight lingering veil over his thoughts from the wine he drank.
There’s some frustration too, because Dazai is /still/ grinding against him even though Chuuya is being perfectly still for him. Each
There’s some frustration too, because Dazai is /still/ grinding against him even though Chuuya is being perfectly still for him. Each
time his hips move forward, he thinks /now, now, it’s happening now/.
But it never happens. The collision of their hips makes little puffs of breath escape him, and he’s torn between holding himself in place and just letting himself collapse because /fuck/, his thighs are
But it never happens. The collision of their hips makes little puffs of breath escape him, and he’s torn between holding himself in place and just letting himself collapse because /fuck/, his thighs are
tired from holding up his and Dazai’s wait—
Then Dazai’s erection is twitching hard against him, and there’s a louder, hissed compliment smothered against his shoulder, something about how /perfect/ he is.
Warm wetness streaks over his ass, adding to the heat gathered there.
Then Dazai’s erection is twitching hard against him, and there’s a louder, hissed compliment smothered against his shoulder, something about how /perfect/ he is.
Warm wetness streaks over his ass, adding to the heat gathered there.
The hot imprints of Dazai’s hand throbs pleasantly, the lube is warm with friction, and now there’s /cum/ layered over it, dripping slowly down.
This is nice, Chuuya thinks hazily, feels warm, feels /easy/.
He slumps forward more, letting his chest rest against the couch arm
This is nice, Chuuya thinks hazily, feels warm, feels /easy/.
He slumps forward more, letting his chest rest against the couch arm
and take his weight. Dazai follows him, and even though it’s a bit suffocating to be crushed underneath him, it’s also /grounding/ and comforting.
Soft lips trail their way over his shoulder blade, pausing to explore the collection of freckles where his arm meets his back,
Soft lips trail their way over his shoulder blade, pausing to explore the collection of freckles where his arm meets his back,
before making their way up, up. Grazing over his shoulder, whispering over a spot that throbs lightly. Probably another bite. Chuuya’s practically covered in them by now, not that he’s complaining.
By the time Dazai is nuzzling into his neck, Chuuya is letting out a long
By the time Dazai is nuzzling into his neck, Chuuya is letting out a long
content sigh.
“You okay?” Dazai asks softly, and his voice is just the perfect blend of rough and soothing that it doesn’t break the moment.
Humming, Chuuya takes stock of himself. His ass was the biggest victim—besides his pride— but it doesn’t hurt so much as it feels /hot/.
“You okay?” Dazai asks softly, and his voice is just the perfect blend of rough and soothing that it doesn’t break the moment.
Humming, Chuuya takes stock of himself. His ass was the biggest victim—besides his pride— but it doesn’t hurt so much as it feels /hot/.
Dazai’s weight on it actually makes it feel better. He doesn’t think he’ll even have bruises.
There’s a few scattered bites over him, and a spot on his neck that pulses lightly. Probably a mark that will need to be covered up tomorrow.
Other than that, he’s perfect.
There’s a few scattered bites over him, and a spot on his neck that pulses lightly. Probably a mark that will need to be covered up tomorrow.
Other than that, he’s perfect.
“‘m sticky,” he sighs. Then something occurs to him. “I can’t believe you ruined my skirt. I’ve had it for literally less than three hours.”
A smile is smothered against his neck, sealed there with another kiss. “I’ll buy you new ones. As many as you want.”
Well, that’s only
A smile is smothered against his neck, sealed there with another kiss. “I’ll buy you new ones. As many as you want.”
Well, that’s only
fair, Chuuya reasons with himself, telling himself he’s /not/ excited at the idea of going shopping with Dazai’s money.
With a heaved breath, Dazai draws himself up. Chuuya makes a disappointed, grumpy noise when he starts to move away.
He /liked/ cuddling, where is he going?
With a heaved breath, Dazai draws himself up. Chuuya makes a disappointed, grumpy noise when he starts to move away.
He /liked/ cuddling, where is he going?
“Hush, baby, I’m just going to clean us up.”
Ugh, fine. Being sticky was hot in the moment, but now it’s making him feel dirty, so /fine/.
He doesn’t know where Dazai goes, because he doesn’t bother to get up or turn around to look. Instead, he just waits patiently and waits
Ugh, fine. Being sticky was hot in the moment, but now it’s making him feel dirty, so /fine/.
He doesn’t know where Dazai goes, because he doesn’t bother to get up or turn around to look. Instead, he just waits patiently and waits
for his thighs to stop trembling.
It’s only a few moments later that fingers brush over his calf, a warning before a damp towel is being wiped over him.
Dazai is exceedingly gentle, lightening his touch over the handprints and making sure to get every wet spot.
“Does it
It’s only a few moments later that fingers brush over his calf, a warning before a damp towel is being wiped over him.
Dazai is exceedingly gentle, lightening his touch over the handprints and making sure to get every wet spot.
“Does it
hurt?" He murmurs, tracing a light fingertip over his burning ass cheek.
Chuuya wiggles. "Not really. Feels hot, mostly."
"Good," Dazai says, "It doesn't look like it'll bruise either."
How is he able to tell /that/ just from looking at it for a few moments? Is he psychic or
Chuuya wiggles. "Not really. Feels hot, mostly."
"Good," Dazai says, "It doesn't look like it'll bruise either."
How is he able to tell /that/ just from looking at it for a few moments? Is he psychic or
does he just have /that/ much experience?
"Come on," Dazai encourages, pulling him back by the hips.
Chuuya's knees ache a little with the adjustment, but he moves back into a kneeling position, preparing to shuffle off the couch awkwardly--
Dazai sweeps him up before he can
"Come on," Dazai encourages, pulling him back by the hips.
Chuuya's knees ache a little with the adjustment, but he moves back into a kneeling position, preparing to shuffle off the couch awkwardly--
Dazai sweeps him up before he can
even get his feet underneath him, cradling him in his arms. Chuuya throws his arms around his neck, holding onto him but grateful he doesn't have to stand just yet.
He looks down, expecting to see the front of his skirt wet and stained from his orgasm--
Only to see that /most/
He looks down, expecting to see the front of his skirt wet and stained from his orgasm--
Only to see that /most/
of the cum had missed his skirt entirely and instead has landed on the /couch cushion/.
"Oh god," he groans, closing his eyes, "the poor housekeepers are going to have to clean that up."
Dazai snickers, lowering them both into a chair by the abandoned table. The remains of
"Oh god," he groans, closing his eyes, "the poor housekeepers are going to have to clean that up."
Dazai snickers, lowering them both into a chair by the abandoned table. The remains of
their food have been left discarded. "I'm sure they've seen worse from other people.
Chuuya takes the towel from him and cleans up his inner thighs and lower belly, scowling. "It's not a competition.
"Well," Dazai starts, a suggestive edge in his tone, "it /could/ be. If you
Chuuya takes the towel from him and cleans up his inner thighs and lower belly, scowling. "It's not a competition.
"Well," Dazai starts, a suggestive edge in his tone, "it /could/ be. If you
wanted it to be."
Chuuya smacks his chest with the back of his hand, tossing the towel onto the wet spot on the couch. It already needs to be cleaned, so he doesn't feel /too/ bad, and his legs are still too unsteady to walk inside.
With a content sigh, he snuggles up to Dazai.
Chuuya smacks his chest with the back of his hand, tossing the towel onto the wet spot on the couch. It already needs to be cleaned, so he doesn't feel /too/ bad, and his legs are still too unsteady to walk inside.
With a content sigh, he snuggles up to Dazai.
He's small enough to be completely held in his lap, cheek resting against his shoulder and legs folded to the side. It's not exactly cold outside, but after all the heat and fire from earlier, it feels a little shocking.
Dazai's arms, one hand resting on his knee and the other
Dazai's arms, one hand resting on his knee and the other
wrapped around his back, keep the world away. It's easy to drift then,enjoy the afterglow while watching the lights of the city twinkle and shine below them.
After a while, the hand leaves his knee, making him frown in disappointment. Dazai sits up a little to reach for Chuuya's
After a while, the hand leaves his knee, making him frown in disappointment. Dazai sits up a little to reach for Chuuya's
wine glass on the table. It's still half-full.
"Drink?" Dazai offers, his other hand reaching up to stroke at his cheek, fingertips light and ticklish.
Chuuya nods, reaching for the glass. The wine really was delicious, but he didn't have much time to savor it before. He was
"Drink?" Dazai offers, his other hand reaching up to stroke at his cheek, fingertips light and ticklish.
Chuuya nods, reaching for the glass. The wine really was delicious, but he didn't have much time to savor it before. He was
too busy trying to savor /Dazai/ to think about it.
Clicking his tongue, Dazai moves the glass out of his reach. The arm wrapped around his back moves higher, allowing his hand to wrap lightly around his throat and tip his chin up with a gentle thumb.
Breathless, Chuuya follows
Clicking his tongue, Dazai moves the glass out of his reach. The arm wrapped around his back moves higher, allowing his hand to wrap lightly around his throat and tip his chin up with a gentle thumb.
Breathless, Chuuya follows
instruction, letting his head tilt back.
Dazai holds him there easily, bringing the wineglass to his lips and carefully pouring wine into his mouth.
Something about that feels... /darkly/ indulgent and sensual. Like he’s a princess from some fantasy story, being fed pieces of
Dazai holds him there easily, bringing the wineglass to his lips and carefully pouring wine into his mouth.
Something about that feels... /darkly/ indulgent and sensual. Like he’s a princess from some fantasy story, being fed pieces of
exotic food by the hand of someone tall, dark and /dangerous/.
Even though Dazai doesn’t do anything further, the hand on his neck is so casually possessive that Chuuya feels owned and vulnerable by it, offering his neck to the predator and hoping it won’t /bite/.
It takes
Even though Dazai doesn’t do anything further, the hand on his neck is so casually possessive that Chuuya feels owned and vulnerable by it, offering his neck to the predator and hoping it won’t /bite/.
It takes
a few times for Chuuya to empty the glass completely, in which they make casual, quiet conversation. It’s late enough that some of the city lights are shutting off, leaving the others to shine brilliantly in their wake.
The wine is Chuuya’s undoing. He was tired before—it was a
The wine is Chuuya’s undoing. He was tired before—it was a
king day, filled with excitement and activity— but now he’s /warm/ and pleasantly faded at the edges.
“Bed,” he mutters, nuzzling into Dazai’s neck. There’s a spot just above the bandages where he can feel his heart beating, where he’s warmest and smells the best. He presses his
“Bed,” he mutters, nuzzling into Dazai’s neck. There’s a spot just above the bandages where he can feel his heart beating, where he’s warmest and smells the best. He presses his
nose there, humming contentedly.
Dazai lets out a small huff. “Yes, /brat/,” he teases.
Rearranging his arms to better support him, Dazai rises easily from the chair. Chuuya hangs on tightly out of instinct rather than need.
Dazai has never dropped him.
Dazai’s walk is
Dazai lets out a small huff. “Yes, /brat/,” he teases.
Rearranging his arms to better support him, Dazai rises easily from the chair. Chuuya hangs on tightly out of instinct rather than need.
Dazai has never dropped him.
Dazai’s walk is
rhythmic and has a pleasant sway to it, one that coaxes Chuuya further into exhaustion.
A few moments later, Dazai is leaning over and setting him on the bed. Chuuya doesn’t /want/ to let go, wants to drag the older man down and into bed with him for a nice, long cuddle
A few moments later, Dazai is leaning over and setting him on the bed. Chuuya doesn’t /want/ to let go, wants to drag the older man down and into bed with him for a nice, long cuddle
session before falling asleep—
Large hands find his fingers clasped behind Dazai’s neck, and gently pries them away.
Chuuya makes a grumpy noise, cracking his eyes open to glare at him, but Dazai is immovable and far too patient, and he is not strong enough to hold on.
Large hands find his fingers clasped behind Dazai’s neck, and gently pries them away.
Chuuya makes a grumpy noise, cracking his eyes open to glare at him, but Dazai is immovable and far too patient, and he is not strong enough to hold on.
Once Chuuya is forced into letting go, his skirt and shirt are pulled off him. It leaves him completely naked, save for the golden necklace around his throat.
He stretches, relishing how soft and squishy the bed is. It’s the perfect ratio of firm mattress to a mound of warm,
He stretches, relishing how soft and squishy the bed is. It’s the perfect ratio of firm mattress to a mound of warm,
fluffy blankets.
(He doesn’t see the way Dazai is looking at him, achingly soft, eyes overflowing with warmth, expression near /reverent/, because he’s too busy burrowing beneath the blankets.)
Once he finds the best spot on the bed—in the middle, with two pillows under his
(He doesn’t see the way Dazai is looking at him, achingly soft, eyes overflowing with warmth, expression near /reverent/, because he’s too busy burrowing beneath the blankets.)
Once he finds the best spot on the bed—in the middle, with two pillows under his
head and the blanket pulled up to his chin— he pats the spot in front of him insistently.
A soft snort of amusement above him. Fingers brushing escaped hair from his braid behind his ear.
“I’m going to clean up. I’ll be back soon. Sleep, baby.”
And he does.
——— +
A soft snort of amusement above him. Fingers brushing escaped hair from his braid behind his ear.
“I’m going to clean up. I’ll be back soon. Sleep, baby.”
And he does.
——— +
Dazai wakes up slowly, sleep tugging at him. Heavy, drugging warmth encases him, like a blanket he can sink into.
Sleep is usually an all or nothing for him; he’s either asleep or awake, and almost nothing in between. Waking up is normally disorientating and unpleasant,
Sleep is usually an all or nothing for him; he’s either asleep or awake, and almost nothing in between. Waking up is normally disorientating and unpleasant,
because he quickly goes from a light, dreamless sleep to /awake/,mind jumping to keep up with his surroundings.
He doesn’t usually like waking up, but /this/—feeling warm and heavy and groggy, full of sensation instead of thought, the body finally outweighing his mind— is nice,
He doesn’t usually like waking up, but /this/—feeling warm and heavy and groggy, full of sensation instead of thought, the body finally outweighing his mind— is nice,
he decides hazily.
It would be easy to fall back asleep and catch a few more hours of rest. It’d be easy, with how tired his body is and how sleep-warm and comforting the tiny, breathing body in his arms is.
He cuddles closer, burying his face into soft, wild hair. The strands
It would be easy to fall back asleep and catch a few more hours of rest. It’d be easy, with how tired his body is and how sleep-warm and comforting the tiny, breathing body in his arms is.
He cuddles closer, burying his face into soft, wild hair. The strands
tickle his face, but he doesn’t care. He’s so sleepy...
There’s only one problem:
In front of him is a wall of soft warmth, Chuuya a tiny furnace of heat pressed against his chest. Beyond him, the blanket, capturing all that warmth and radiating it back until it’s a cave of
There’s only one problem:
In front of him is a wall of soft warmth, Chuuya a tiny furnace of heat pressed against his chest. Beyond him, the blanket, capturing all that warmth and radiating it back until it’s a cave of
cozy comfort that Dazai wants nothing more than to sink into.
Behind him, along his back and legs is /cold/.
What the hell?
Groggily, he blinks open his eyes and shifts his legs, trying to find out why he’s cold on one side—
Only to find that Chuuya had /stolen/ most of
Behind him, along his back and legs is /cold/.
What the hell?
Groggily, he blinks open his eyes and shifts his legs, trying to find out why he’s cold on one side—
Only to find that Chuuya had /stolen/ most of
the bed and the /entire/ blanket.
Of course, /he/ looks snug as can be, only his hair visible with how the blanket is bunched up around his shoulders.
Meanwhile, Dazai is centimeters away from being pushed off the bed and his feet are frozen.
“You are tiny,” he tells the
Of course, /he/ looks snug as can be, only his hair visible with how the blanket is bunched up around his shoulders.
Meanwhile, Dazai is centimeters away from being pushed off the bed and his feet are frozen.
“You are tiny,” he tells the
sleeping beauty in his arms,”you don’t need that much of the bed. You’re not even using it.”
/Most/ of the bed is empty,with Chuuya crowding Dazai close to the edge.
His only response is a sleepy sigh,a face nuzzling deeper into his chest and an arm tightening around his waist.
/Most/ of the bed is empty,with Chuuya crowding Dazai close to the edge.
His only response is a sleepy sigh,a face nuzzling deeper into his chest and an arm tightening around his waist.
He could understand, maybe, if Chuuya stretched out in his sleep, but no.
Dazai fell asleep in the middle of the bed with a chibi in his arms, and he woke up on the very edge with a chibi in his arms.
He even vaguely remembers waking up in the middle of the night, going to
Dazai fell asleep in the middle of the bed with a chibi in his arms, and he woke up on the very edge with a chibi in his arms.
He even vaguely remembers waking up in the middle of the night, going to
turn over onto his back—
Only for Chuuya to follow him, flinging his arms and legs over him with a mostly-asleep grumble.
It was cute then, and of /course/ Dazai pulled him closer, but if he’s going to cuddle Dazai anyways, then at /least/ give him a decent portion of the bed.
Only for Chuuya to follow him, flinging his arms and legs over him with a mostly-asleep grumble.
It was cute then, and of /course/ Dazai pulled him closer, but if he’s going to cuddle Dazai anyways, then at /least/ give him a decent portion of the bed.
It takes a fair bit of work to push Chuuya to the middle of the bed without waking him up or making him growl in his sleep. Dazai has to wiggle one hand between them and /push/ him backwards at the same time he scoots forward, because Chuuya refuses to let him go.
By the time
By the time
Dazai wrestles part of the blanket back from him and is no longer in threat of falling off, he's completely awake.
He can't be upset at losing out on extra hours, because by the light filtering through the windows, dawn is well on it's way. He knows Chuuya is somewhat of an
He can't be upset at losing out on extra hours, because by the light filtering through the windows, dawn is well on it's way. He knows Chuuya is somewhat of an
early riser, and probably won't be asleep for much longer.
And now that he's awake and Chuuya's asleep, Dazai gets the chance to /admire/ him. He's not particularly subtle about the way he stares when they're both awake, but Chuuya is /adorably/ shy, and whenever he notices
And now that he's awake and Chuuya's asleep, Dazai gets the chance to /admire/ him. He's not particularly subtle about the way he stares when they're both awake, but Chuuya is /adorably/ shy, and whenever he notices
Dazai looking, he gets all blushy and stops doing what he's doing.
Which is /cute/, yes, but it takes away the chance to just...
Appreciate the natural, effortless beauty that Chuuya has, one that makes Dazai's heart ache with longing. A beauty that isn't just skin-deep, one
Which is /cute/, yes, but it takes away the chance to just...
Appreciate the natural, effortless beauty that Chuuya has, one that makes Dazai's heart ache with longing. A beauty that isn't just skin-deep, one
one shines through his brilliant eyes and hides in the fierceness of his spirit.
Dazai has never been overly fond of beautiful things. There was a time, when he was younger, when he actively went out of his way to destroy anything soft and pretty, because it didn't feel /fair/
Dazai has never been overly fond of beautiful things. There was a time, when he was younger, when he actively went out of his way to destroy anything soft and pretty, because it didn't feel /fair/
that something--anything-- got to be gentle when he felt like he was made of broken glass and razor wire.
Even now, he typically prefers practicality over aesthetics but--
He should change that, because /this/ is beauty worth admiring.
Chuuya's head has fallen back against his
Even now, he typically prefers practicality over aesthetics but--
He should change that, because /this/ is beauty worth admiring.
Chuuya's head has fallen back against his
bicep, revealing his peacefully sleeping face.
He looks so /young/ like this, expression soft and open. His eyelashes, a subtle red that's easy to miss if you're not looking closely enough lay against his cheek, absurdly long and thick for a boy.
His cheeks are slightly red,
He looks so /young/ like this, expression soft and open. His eyelashes, a subtle red that's easy to miss if you're not looking closely enough lay against his cheek, absurdly long and thick for a boy.
His cheeks are slightly red,
radiating warm and there's a indent crease on one side, from where he was laying on Dazai. His freckles are more prominent now, scattered brightly over his cheeks and nose without any makeup to cover them.
With the lightest of fingertips, Dazai traces the bridge of his nose. It
With the lightest of fingertips, Dazai traces the bridge of his nose. It
has a slight, haughty upturn at the end, now that he's looking closely.Cute.
His lips are soft, open, easily moved when Dazai presses his thumb to them. His breath is steady and even, the faintest of snores echoing from the back of his throat.
Dazai traces his way down, the pad
His lips are soft, open, easily moved when Dazai presses his thumb to them. His breath is steady and even, the faintest of snores echoing from the back of his throat.
Dazai traces his way down, the pad
of his finger gliding over his jawline, then down his throat and over to his collarbone.
Before Dazai came to bed, he'd washed up and replaced the cover-up on his arms and hands with bandages. They'd come loose in the night, gaps of inked skin showing between.
He doesn't like
Before Dazai came to bed, he'd washed up and replaced the cover-up on his arms and hands with bandages. They'd come loose in the night, gaps of inked skin showing between.
He doesn't like
the way the ink looks when pressed against Chuuya's skin. He doesn't like the ink at /all/, actually, beyond it's usefulness as a reminder, but the blood-red half-colored dragon taking up his forearm looks even more sinister when compared to the pale smoothness of Chuuya's skin.
The dragon is a writhing mass of black and red. The outline was done in one session, when he was 14, and the color was done—
Well, Mori colored in a scale for each mission mission he completed successfully. Every scarlet scale is a representation of blood and death and violence,
Well, Mori colored in a scale for each mission mission he completed successfully. Every scarlet scale is a representation of blood and death and violence,
permanently etched into his skin so he can never forget.
All that history feels wrong touching Chuuya, but the color contrast is nice, he supposes.
It almost matches the red of the marks Dazai had left on him last night. He swirls his finger over a particularly dark one,
All that history feels wrong touching Chuuya, but the color contrast is nice, he supposes.
It almost matches the red of the marks Dazai had left on him last night. He swirls his finger over a particularly dark one,
set in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder. He /almost/ feels bad for it, because it’s going to be a pain to cover up.
But he can’t deny that a possessive, jealous hunger in him is greatly satisfied by the sight. His teeth ache to add /more/ marks, until his body is a
But he can’t deny that a possessive, jealous hunger in him is greatly satisfied by the sight. His teeth ache to add /more/ marks, until his body is a
canvas of Dazai’s making.
He pushes the blanket down, giving himself access to Chuuya’s chest. He’s soft under his hands, but well-muscled. Toned and obviously strong, but his skin is unmarred and silky smooth.
There’s a light, long scar over his sternum. It looks old and
He pushes the blanket down, giving himself access to Chuuya’s chest. He’s soft under his hands, but well-muscled. Toned and obviously strong, but his skin is unmarred and silky smooth.
There’s a light, long scar over his sternum. It looks old and
faded, and like it would’ve hurt when it happened.
He follows the outline of it with his finger, wondering where it came from.
He keeps his touch exceedingly light, even as hunger begins to stir in his belly. He doesn’t want to wake Chuuya up yet. Because of how shy he is,
He follows the outline of it with his finger, wondering where it came from.
He keeps his touch exceedingly light, even as hunger begins to stir in his belly. He doesn’t want to wake Chuuya up yet. Because of how shy he is,
he hasn’t taken much time to actually explore his body.When he’s gotten him naked, it’s usually when Chuuya is half out of his mind with desperation, and Dazai is aching himself.
He hasn’t had a chance to /appreciate/ how petite and well-formed Chuuya is.
Shoulders dusted with
He hasn’t had a chance to /appreciate/ how petite and well-formed Chuuya is.
Shoulders dusted with
freckles, muscled arms. His waist dips in nicely, just to curve into the swell of his hips. His stomach is flat, lined with muscle that leads Dazai /down/.
There’s a few scattered freckles over the sides of his hips, and Dazai wonders if there’s any on his butt. /Cute/.
There’s a few scattered freckles over the sides of his hips, and Dazai wonders if there’s any on his butt. /Cute/.
Unfortunately, Dazai’s exploration— which had /just/ gotten to the trail of red hair dusting over Chuuya’s lower stomach— is cut short by the sunlight creeping onto the bed.
It’s full dawn by now, and the blinds over the window let in a ray of sunshine that slowly makes it’s
It’s full dawn by now, and the blinds over the window let in a ray of sunshine that slowly makes it’s
way up through the room. In a few minutes, it will land on Chuuya’s face and probably wake him up.
Since Dazai is on the other side— between Chuuya and the door, a newfound protective instinct demanding he place himself between Chuuya and any entrances into the room— he can’t
Since Dazai is on the other side— between Chuuya and the door, a newfound protective instinct demanding he place himself between Chuuya and any entrances into the room— he can’t
block it besides making a stack of pillows in its path.
He doesn’t even consider getting up to close it fully.
Or he could...
Drawing the blanket over his head, Dazai rolls over on top of him. He keeps his weight solidly on his elbows to keep him crushing him, hovering.
He doesn’t even consider getting up to close it fully.
Or he could...
Drawing the blanket over his head, Dazai rolls over on top of him. He keeps his weight solidly on his elbows to keep him crushing him, hovering.
The space beneath the blanket is heated up quickly, turning incredibly cozy. It smells like the lingering scent of Chuuya’s shampoo, a hint of Dazai’s cologne.
Staring down at him, inches away from Chuuya’s sleeping face that has a small smile on it—
Dazai can’t /not/ kiss him.
Staring down at him, inches away from Chuuya’s sleeping face that has a small smile on it—
Dazai can’t /not/ kiss him.
He leans down, pressing his lips to his cheek. He’s almost feverishly warm, breath even and steady.
Dazai presses kisses all over that cheek, over the bridge of his nose to the other one, down to the corner of his mouth, back up again to his temple. Anywhere he feels needs one.
Dazai presses kisses all over that cheek, over the bridge of his nose to the other one, down to the corner of his mouth, back up again to his temple. Anywhere he feels needs one.
This close, he can feel the exact moment Chuuya wakes up. His eyelashes flutter first, tickling Dazai’s cheek.
Then his head leans into Dazai, increasing the pressure of the kiss on his temple. His hands finally move, fingers curling loosely around Dazai’s forearm.
There’s a
Then his head leans into Dazai, increasing the pressure of the kiss on his temple. His hands finally move, fingers curling loosely around Dazai’s forearm.
There’s a
heavy sighed breathed between them, one that washes over Dazai's cheek.
"Good morning," he murmurs, tracing his way back down to Chuuya's mouth.
The loud, grumpy grumble Chuuya gives says he disagrees, but the way his foot hooks around the back of Dazai's thigh and pulls him
"Good morning," he murmurs, tracing his way back down to Chuuya's mouth.
The loud, grumpy grumble Chuuya gives says he disagrees, but the way his foot hooks around the back of Dazai's thigh and pulls him
him, says he could be /convinced/.
Dazai kisses the first words off his lips. Makes sure the first thing he sees is not the sunlight, or the ceiling, or the bedroom.
Makes sure that the /only/ thing that exists to him right now, in their cozy blanket cave, is /them/.
Dazai kisses the first words off his lips. Makes sure the first thing he sees is not the sunlight, or the ceiling, or the bedroom.
Makes sure that the /only/ thing that exists to him right now, in their cozy blanket cave, is /them/.
Chuuya's mouth is slow, uncoordinated, clearly still waking up. Mostly, he lets himself be kissed, exactly how Dazai wants to kiss him, and makes happy little noises in the back of his throat.
Dazai is happy to do all the work because Chuuya is easily and sweetly overwhelmed
Dazai is happy to do all the work because Chuuya is easily and sweetly overwhelmed
like this. He breaths out sharply whenever Dazai's tongue slides against the length of his, shivers when his fingers find the nape of his neck to tip his head backwards for better access, gasps when the metal ball of his tongue piercing flicks over his top lip.
Truthfully, Dazai
Truthfully, Dazai
isn't much for mornings. They always represented failure to him, another day to live, another day of work in a life he didn't choose.
But mornings like these? He could do these /forever/.
He pulls back when Chuuya is breathless and responding to him eagerly, arching underneath
But mornings like these? He could do these /forever/.
He pulls back when Chuuya is breathless and responding to him eagerly, arching underneath
him.
"Good morning," he tries again, trying to keep the smugness out of his voice.
"Good morning," Chuuya says roughly, one eye opening to reveal vibrant blue that's sparkling with mischief, "Daddy."
It really shouldn't be so /easy/ to make Dazai's heart jump in his chest and
"Good morning," he tries again, trying to keep the smugness out of his voice.
"Good morning," Chuuya says roughly, one eye opening to reveal vibrant blue that's sparkling with mischief, "Daddy."
It really shouldn't be so /easy/ to make Dazai's heart jump in his chest and
his cock twitch with interest, but trust Chuuya to zero in on his weakness and use it against him.
"Being bratty already," Dazai sighs, stroking his cheek with his fingers, "and so early, too."
Chuuya pouts at him, mock-glares. It's at odds with the way one hand has found the
"Being bratty already," Dazai sighs, stroking his cheek with his fingers, "and so early, too."
Chuuya pouts at him, mock-glares. It's at odds with the way one hand has found the
back of his head and is slowly winding his fingers through Dazai's bedhead. "I'm not being bratty. You /like/ it."
Dazai drops a kiss on his collarbone. "Yes, and you know it. That's the problem."
"Problem?" Chuuya repeats, arching his back until something pops in his spine. "I
Dazai drops a kiss on his collarbone. "Yes, and you know it. That's the problem."
"Problem?" Chuuya repeats, arching his back until something pops in his spine. "I
don't think it's a problem."
"Of course you don't," he mutters, blowing a raspberry against his skin just to hear him laugh.
"Mm," Chuuya sighs, tugging lightly on his hair. "What time is it?"
Dazai doesn't know exactly. He's hardly checked his phone all weekend, a rarity for
"Of course you don't," he mutters, blowing a raspberry against his skin just to hear him laugh.
"Mm," Chuuya sighs, tugging lightly on his hair. "What time is it?"
Dazai doesn't know exactly. He's hardly checked his phone all weekend, a rarity for
him considering his job relies on staying connected and accessible.
When he was convincing Chuuya to come with him, he sold it as a vacation, but he's starting to realize it /is/. A vacation, for them both.
Dazai has never had a vacation before.
"Don't know," he responds,
When he was convincing Chuuya to come with him, he sold it as a vacation, but he's starting to realize it /is/. A vacation, for them both.
Dazai has never had a vacation before.
"Don't know," he responds,
shrugging. "Early."
"So we have time before we're supposed to go anywhere?"
Needy little thing, Dazai thinks to himself fondly. You would think that Dazai filled his appetite for a while with last night, but apparently not. He can hear the suggestive, hopeful note in his voice
"So we have time before we're supposed to go anywhere?"
Needy little thing, Dazai thinks to himself fondly. You would think that Dazai filled his appetite for a while with last night, but apparently not. He can hear the suggestive, hopeful note in his voice
and the hardness that is starting to press against his stomach.
Ah, but who is he to tell his baby /no/?
"Oh," he plays it off, hiding a smile in a kiss on Chuuya's shoulder. "Maybe. Did you have something in mind?"
It's part teasing, part honest. So far, Dazai has taken
Ah, but who is he to tell his baby /no/?
"Oh," he plays it off, hiding a smile in a kiss on Chuuya's shoulder. "Maybe. Did you have something in mind?"
It's part teasing, part honest. So far, Dazai has taken
complete control during their sexual interactions. Which is fine-- more than fine, actually, he /loves/ it-- but he hasn't given much chance for Chuuya to express what /he/ wants.
They're incredibly compatible so far, but Dazai wants to know what dirty thoughts are in that
They're incredibly compatible so far, but Dazai wants to know what dirty thoughts are in that
pretty little head.
Chuuya opens his mouth, looking a bit too eager for Dazai's peace of mind--
"And don't ask me to fuck you. You'll be too sore to move afterwards and I /do/ want to take you somewhere today."
That eagerness quickly turns into a pout. "But we could stay in
Chuuya opens his mouth, looking a bit too eager for Dazai's peace of mind--
"And don't ask me to fuck you. You'll be too sore to move afterwards and I /do/ want to take you somewhere today."
That eagerness quickly turns into a pout. "But we could stay in
bed all day, and go somewhere /tomorrow/."
"We could," Dazai agrees, placing another kiss slightly lower on his chest, "but we're not going to. Pick something else."
Chuuya huffs and wiggles in protest underneath him. It's all too easy to pin and subdue him with a sharp scrape
"We could," Dazai agrees, placing another kiss slightly lower on his chest, "but we're not going to. Pick something else."
Chuuya huffs and wiggles in protest underneath him. It's all too easy to pin and subdue him with a sharp scrape
of his teeth.
There's a long moment of silence as Chuuya obviously struggles with finding something to say. Dazai doesn't make it easy for him, making his way down his chest to take a nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it.
The hand in his hair tightens, adding
There's a long moment of silence as Chuuya obviously struggles with finding something to say. Dazai doesn't make it easy for him, making his way down his chest to take a nipple into his mouth and flicking his tongue over it.
The hand in his hair tightens, adding
weight to keep him in place. Like Dazai would rather be anywhere other than this.
"I don't know," Chuuya mutters, sounding embarrassed. "I liked what you did last night."
Oh, did he now?
It's fine that he doesn't know exactly what he wants. Dazai has enough plans for the both
"I don't know," Chuuya mutters, sounding embarrassed. "I liked what you did last night."
Oh, did he now?
It's fine that he doesn't know exactly what he wants. Dazai has enough plans for the both
of them.
The question is /what/, though.
Nothing too intensive, because he's probably sore from last night, even if he hasn't said anything. He /could/ get out the vibrator he brought with him, or the plug, or the vibrating tongue jewelry.
There's so many /options/.
The question is /what/, though.
Nothing too intensive, because he's probably sore from last night, even if he hasn't said anything. He /could/ get out the vibrator he brought with him, or the plug, or the vibrating tongue jewelry.
There's so many /options/.
There are any number of ways Dazai could crack Chuuya open—
But for this morning, he decides to go with something /classic/. One that keeps to his idea of building him up in steps.
He swirls his tongue over his nipple, keeping him distracted as Dazai reaches for the bedside
But for this morning, he decides to go with something /classic/. One that keeps to his idea of building him up in steps.
He swirls his tongue over his nipple, keeping him distracted as Dazai reaches for the bedside
table. He had a stroke of foresight last night, something that he’s /grateful/ for right now—
Without being able to see, it takes him a few moments of fumbling before his fingers brush against his target.
From the drawer, he extracts a bottle of lube and a long, silken tie.
Without being able to see, it takes him a few moments of fumbling before his fingers brush against his target.
From the drawer, he extracts a bottle of lube and a long, silken tie.
The lube, he tosses on the bed near Chuuya’s hip, for later. As for the tie—
He leans up a little, getting his knees underneath him so he can sit up without the use of his hands.
“Give me your wrists,” he says, tapping at Chuuya’s forearm. He doesn’t reach for his wrists
He leans up a little, getting his knees underneath him so he can sit up without the use of his hands.
“Give me your wrists,” he says, tapping at Chuuya’s forearm. He doesn’t reach for his wrists
himself or otherwise move him himself.
He leaves the choice up to Chuuya.
And as always, his baby offers his trust and body up absolutely, bringing his hands together in front of his body without hesitation.
Dazai graces the slender bones of his wrist with a proud, grateful
He leaves the choice up to Chuuya.
And as always, his baby offers his trust and body up absolutely, bringing his hands together in front of his body without hesitation.
Dazai graces the slender bones of his wrist with a proud, grateful
kiss.
Carefully, he winds the tie around his wrists. He doesn’t do it tightly— not as tightly as he /prefers/— and he doesn’t use an actual knot, relying instead on the wraps around to keep it in place and tight.
Tucking the ends into the middle, he slips one finger underneath
Carefully, he winds the tie around his wrists. He doesn’t do it tightly— not as tightly as he /prefers/— and he doesn’t use an actual knot, relying instead on the wraps around to keep it in place and tight.
Tucking the ends into the middle, he slips one finger underneath
the tie to make sure it’s loose enough. “Feels okay?”
It’s a check in for two things: that Chuuya is okay with being tied, and that the restriction itself feels okay.
“Y-yes,” Chuuya gulps out, voice cracking.
Dazai looks up at him, a little concerned that he’s /lying/—
It’s a check in for two things: that Chuuya is okay with being tied, and that the restriction itself feels okay.
“Y-yes,” Chuuya gulps out, voice cracking.
Dazai looks up at him, a little concerned that he’s /lying/—
Only to find that his pupils have blown wide, and there’s a red flush already beginning to blossom over his cheeks. He’s staring at Dazai with wide-eyes, looking like the ground is falling out beneath him.
Dazai can’t help the sharp, honed edge to his smile. Oh, he /likes/ that,
Dazai can’t help the sharp, honed edge to his smile. Oh, he /likes/ that,
doesn’t he? Likes being bound and helpless under Dazai’s mercy?
Good. Dazai likes that /too/, wants beautiful red marks imprinted into his skin.
“Say red if you want me to stop, or let you go,” Dazai tells him, tugging at his bound wrists. He’ll need to teach Chuuya more
Good. Dazai likes that /too/, wants beautiful red marks imprinted into his skin.
“Say red if you want me to stop, or let you go,” Dazai tells him, tugging at his bound wrists. He’ll need to teach Chuuya more
about safewords later, considering that their sex is /quickly/ developing into realms past plain vanilla, which is /exciting/.
Eyes so black he can barely even see the blue in them blink up at him, already beginning to cloud over. "Don't stop," Chuuya whimpers, a blood-deep
Eyes so black he can barely even see the blue in them blink up at him, already beginning to cloud over. "Don't stop," Chuuya whimpers, a blood-deep
desperation dripping into his voice. "Please don't stop."
Dazai drops back down on top of him, letting his weight settle over his hips and thighs and pin him down. "I won't," he promises, burying his face into the crook of his neck.
The next words are murmured directly into
Dazai drops back down on top of him, letting his weight settle over his hips and thighs and pin him down. "I won't," he promises, burying his face into the crook of his neck.
The next words are murmured directly into
his skin, an unwritten contract. "Not until you can't remember your own name."
Chuuya shudders, arching against him. If he's as trained as he claims to be, he could easily throw Dazai off him with a twist of his hips.
He doesn't though, he just presses up against him like he's
Chuuya shudders, arching against him. If he's as trained as he claims to be, he could easily throw Dazai off him with a twist of his hips.
He doesn't though, he just presses up against him like he's
savoring the feeling of Dazai's grounding weight.
The necklace Dazai bought him is still on, and the chain is warm and amusing to play with when he settles on a spot on his neck. He /sucks/ deliberately hard, intent on leaving a dark mark behind.
Without breaking the seal his
The necklace Dazai bought him is still on, and the chain is warm and amusing to play with when he settles on a spot on his neck. He /sucks/ deliberately hard, intent on leaving a dark mark behind.
Without breaking the seal his
lips make, Dazai shows off his talented tongue by hooking his tongue piercing underneath the chain and tugging on it until it's tight around Chuuya's neck.
Not tight enough to even put real pressure on him, but Dazai has quietly observed how much Chuuya enjoys having things
Not tight enough to even put real pressure on him, but Dazai has quietly observed how much Chuuya enjoys having things
wrapped around his throat.
Hands, necklaces, chokers.
Dazai wants to get him a collar, attach a leash to it, and /yank/ him around. If Chuuya responds so eagerly to even the light restraints around his wrists, he'll lose his /mind/ over having one of his most vulnerable and
Hands, necklaces, chokers.
Dazai wants to get him a collar, attach a leash to it, and /yank/ him around. If Chuuya responds so eagerly to even the light restraints around his wrists, he'll lose his /mind/ over having one of his most vulnerable and
sensitive areas under Dazai's control.
A thought for another day.
Dazai moves downwards, tracing a path down his collarbone again. He's always had a /thing/ for collarbones, the sharp elegance of them. Chuuya's are particularly tempting, hidden under thin freckled skin.
A thought for another day.
Dazai moves downwards, tracing a path down his collarbone again. He's always had a /thing/ for collarbones, the sharp elegance of them. Chuuya's are particularly tempting, hidden under thin freckled skin.
There's even a bigger freckle that looks like a wonky, misshaped heart, which is so cute Dazai can't help but brush a lingering kiss over it.
He moves steadily downward, relishing in the way Chuuya's body heats up beneath him. The blanket is mostly pushed to the side by now,
He moves steadily downward, relishing in the way Chuuya's body heats up beneath him. The blanket is mostly pushed to the side by now,
bunched up around their sides and over Dazai's hips. It blocks most of the sunlight, but not all of it, leaving thin rays to streak across Chuuya's body.
He traces one down his ribs, pausing on his nipple. He lavishes it with attention, sucking and licking and tugging on it with
He traces one down his ribs, pausing on his nipple. He lavishes it with attention, sucking and licking and tugging on it with
his teeth until he can feel Chuuya trembling underneath him. There's an almost-pained, overstimulated edge to his voice, and when Dazai slides downward, his nipple is red with abuse.
Chuuya never says a word of protest though, and lower down, his erection is pulsing steadily
Chuuya never says a word of protest though, and lower down, his erection is pulsing steadily
against Dazai's stomach, twitching hard when his teeth tug on him a little roughly.
Dazai isn't /surprised/ per se, based on their previous interactions, but Chuuya liking overstimulation and being a masochist just makes them /that/ more compatible.
The feeling of his stomach
Dazai isn't /surprised/ per se, based on their previous interactions, but Chuuya liking overstimulation and being a masochist just makes them /that/ more compatible.
The feeling of his stomach
rising and falling raggedly under his lips is immensely satisfying. Every time he falls a little lower, following the subtle lines of his toned abdomen, Chuuya's breath hitches. Every time Dazai scrapes his teeth over him or sucks in another mark--Chuuya will be /covered/ in them
by the time he's done with him, the thought of which makes Dazai's soul roar with possessive satisfaction-- his breathing speeds up. His legs squirm, and Dazai pins them down again with a low, disapproving growl.
Sliding his hand over, he casts around for the bottle of lube,
Sliding his hand over, he casts around for the bottle of lube,
distracting him by sinking his teeth into a spot just shy of his hipbone. When Chuuya twitches, his erection brushes against Dazai's cheek, which makes his breath halt and his thighs tense in rapid waves.
Using one hand, he pops the lid and brings it between Chuuya's thighs.
Using one hand, he pops the lid and brings it between Chuuya's thighs.
It takes a little effort and core strength to pour some onto his other hand without lifting himself up, but he manages it.
It's /completely/ worth it too, when he brings his newly-slick hand up and wraps it around Chuuya's erection and earns himself a loud, shocked cry.
He
It's /completely/ worth it too, when he brings his newly-slick hand up and wraps it around Chuuya's erection and earns himself a loud, shocked cry.
He
really is so /loud/, which Dazai /adores/. He loves hearing how good he makes others feel, loves for /other/ people to hear how good he is.
In a way, he's just as susceptible to praise as Chuuya is, just in a slightly different way.
Chuuya's cock is pulsing in his hand. It's
In a way, he's just as susceptible to praise as Chuuya is, just in a slightly different way.
Chuuya's cock is pulsing in his hand. It's
/cute/, if Dazai's being honest. Smaller than his own--Dazai would be surprised if it wasn't--, but /not/ small in general. Pleasantly thick, leaning slightly to the left, and a pretty pink at the tip.
The type of cock Dazai would /love/ to get his mouth on, one he could swallow
The type of cock Dazai would /love/ to get his mouth on, one he could swallow
down without a problem.
Not /yet/, he tells himself, sliding his mouth down to the spot where Chuuya's thigh meets his hip, spreading his leg open wide and pinning it there.
Fingers slide into his hair, tangling in the strands with desperation and tugging on him. It seems more
Not /yet/, he tells himself, sliding his mouth down to the spot where Chuuya's thigh meets his hip, spreading his leg open wide and pinning it there.
Fingers slide into his hair, tangling in the strands with desperation and tugging on him. It seems more
instinctive than anything else, but Dazai /deliberately/ does not give into the push of his hands against his head.
His baby might be /bratty/ and Dazai might enjoy that, but if he wants something, he'll have to /ask/.
He gives him a slow stroke, from base to tip, hand tight.
His baby might be /bratty/ and Dazai might enjoy that, but if he wants something, he'll have to /ask/.
He gives him a slow stroke, from base to tip, hand tight.
Chuuya is so /sensitive/ too, thighs already trembling and his hands flexing in his hair. Dazai can't tell if that's simply because he hasn't been touched before, or if Dazai is just /that/ good, or if he's just like that--
Either way, it fills Dazai with a deep, devouring
Either way, it fills Dazai with a deep, devouring
hunger, one that makes him want to push Chuuya /harder/, further, testing the limits of what he can take.
Like this, he builds a steady rhythm. He litters Chuuya's thighs with love bites and red marks, jerking him off in time with his bites.
Chuuya is /quick/ to beg. "I-- fuck,
Like this, he builds a steady rhythm. He litters Chuuya's thighs with love bites and red marks, jerking him off in time with his bites.
Chuuya is /quick/ to beg. "I-- fuck,
Dazai, /please/. Feels so good. Faster."
Usually, Dazai /likes/ the sound of his name on Chuuya's tongue. He says it like he /savors/ it, like it's the name of his favorite meal, a smile in voice. He's one of the /few/ ones that doesn't say his name like it's a /curse/.
But
Usually, Dazai /likes/ the sound of his name on Chuuya's tongue. He says it like he /savors/ it, like it's the name of his favorite meal, a smile in voice. He's one of the /few/ ones that doesn't say his name like it's a /curse/.
But
like this, he likes a /title/ better.
He sighs in more disappointment than he actually feels, deliberately slowing his pace and loosening his grip on Chuuya. "Baby," he starts, scraping his teeth over Chuuya's hipbone, "You know how I want you to ask me."
He /knows/, yes, but
He sighs in more disappointment than he actually feels, deliberately slowing his pace and loosening his grip on Chuuya. "Baby," he starts, scraping his teeth over Chuuya's hipbone, "You know how I want you to ask me."
He /knows/, yes, but
clearly he still needs some /training/. That's okay, Dazai can be patient, especially when the rewards are so sweet.
Lightening his grip even further, until it's just a /tease/, he waits.
It doesn't take long, all things considered. He barely gets another half-dozen light
Lightening his grip even further, until it's just a /tease/, he waits.
It doesn't take long, all things considered. He barely gets another half-dozen light
strokes in before Chuuya is squirming in protest and he cracks.
"Please,Daddy, please, I want it so bad. Feels good," he pants, rocking his hips as best he can. In stark contrast to his pleading words, his hands are tight in Dazai's hair, fruitlessly trying to get his head where
"Please,Daddy, please, I want it so bad. Feels good," he pants, rocking his hips as best he can. In stark contrast to his pleading words, his hands are tight in Dazai's hair, fruitlessly trying to get his head where
he wants it to go.
Like Dazai said, /bratty/. In normal circumstances, he would /punish/ Chuuya for that, but they haven't discussed anything like that yet--though, Dazai has figured out that spanking is /on/ the table-- so he puts it out of his mind.
And he /did/ ask nicely,
Like Dazai said, /bratty/. In normal circumstances, he would /punish/ Chuuya for that, but they haven't discussed anything like that yet--though, Dazai has figured out that spanking is /on/ the table-- so he puts it out of his mind.
And he /did/ ask nicely,
and Dazai is not in the habit of ignoring /good/ behavior, even if its combined with bad behavior.
Pressing one final kiss to the inside of his thigh, Dazai shifts upward. He settles himself on his knees, hooking his clean hand to drag Chuuya closer.
When Chuuya is propped
Pressing one final kiss to the inside of his thigh, Dazai shifts upward. He settles himself on his knees, hooking his clean hand to drag Chuuya closer.
When Chuuya is propped
up on his thighs, legs bracketing Dazai's hips, then he switches hands.
His dry hand wraps around his erection, hot friction building with firm strokes. Chuuya sighs pleasantly, heels digging into his lower back.
His /other/ hand is still wet enough for his plans, so he slides
His dry hand wraps around his erection, hot friction building with firm strokes. Chuuya sighs pleasantly, heels digging into his lower back.
His /other/ hand is still wet enough for his plans, so he slides
it down, /down/, pressing his fingers over his balls to make him shudder, and then a little /further/.
The pained hiss he gets when his fingers slide over Chuuya's rim makes him wince in sympathy. He /knew/ he was sore, the stubborn little brat.
"Shh," he soothes him, offering
The pained hiss he gets when his fingers slide over Chuuya's rim makes him wince in sympathy. He /knew/ he was sore, the stubborn little brat.
"Shh," he soothes him, offering
him a faster stroke to counteract the pain of friction. "I've got you."
Chuuya bites his lip, nods frantically. His hands have relocated to Dazai's knee, where he digs his nails in and clenches rhythmically.
It takes a few minutes for Dazai to wiggle the tip of his finger
Chuuya bites his lip, nods frantically. His hands have relocated to Dazai's knee, where he digs his nails in and clenches rhythmically.
It takes a few minutes for Dazai to wiggle the tip of his finger
inside. Long moments of rubbing lube over him until there's not an a hint of friction, quickening his pace on his cock to override any irritation with pleasure, carefully watching Chuuya's face and body for signs he's moving too quickly or it hurts too much.
The chibi seems
The chibi seems
overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations, gasping up at him with his mouth open. There's moments where he'll roll his hips /down/ into his hand, only to shudder and go still at the increased pressure. Tears are gathering in his eyes, and his face is so red Dazai can almost see
the heat pouring off him.
He never says /stop/ though. Never says ‘red’, never even asks him to slow down or says he can’t handle it. He just takes what’s being given to him, graces it with a chorus of incoherent begging.
All yes’s and /Daddy’s/ and please’s, cries for more
He never says /stop/ though. Never says ‘red’, never even asks him to slow down or says he can’t handle it. He just takes what’s being given to him, graces it with a chorus of incoherent begging.
All yes’s and /Daddy’s/ and please’s, cries for more
or faster or /harder/, the best symphony Dazai has ever heard.
By the time he’s knuckle-deep inside him, finger crooked upwards to rub relentlessly against his prostate, Chuya is a /mess/.
Teary-eyed, red-faced, wrists red from his mindless struggling, erection wet and dripping
By the time he’s knuckle-deep inside him, finger crooked upwards to rub relentlessly against his prostate, Chuya is a /mess/.
Teary-eyed, red-faced, wrists red from his mindless struggling, erection wet and dripping
with pre-cum.
"Beautiful," he murmurs without thinking about it, a sharp smile curling the corner of his mouth when he feels Chuuya twitch hard in his grip. He's so receptive to praise, so /eager/ to be told how good and pretty he is.
Dazai sets a steady, slightly fast rhythm,
"Beautiful," he murmurs without thinking about it, a sharp smile curling the corner of his mouth when he feels Chuuya twitch hard in his grip. He's so receptive to praise, so /eager/ to be told how good and pretty he is.
Dazai sets a steady, slightly fast rhythm,
driving him mercilessly quick to the edge. It's the most careless he's been with him, the haze of arousal clouding his sleep-thick mind. His own erection is neglected in the grey sweats he's wearing, pressed against the back of Chuuya's thigh and aching for friction.
Dazai has
Dazai has
/plans/ though, plans that are only /beginning/ when Chuuya cums for him, so he puts his own need out of his mind to focus on the beauty underneath him.
Before long, Chuuya is rocking in his lap, frantically driving his hips /up/ to get more friction on his cock and then /down/
Before long, Chuuya is rocking in his lap, frantically driving his hips /up/ to get more friction on his cock and then /down/
onto his finger, chasing every inch of pleasure that Dazai is wringing out of him.
His hands are indecisive, flitting between clutching at Dazai's knee, to gripping his own thigh, to clawing at the blanket with a high-pitched keening noise.
Beautiful, wild thing.
"Fuck!"
His hands are indecisive, flitting between clutching at Dazai's knee, to gripping his own thigh, to clawing at the blanket with a high-pitched keening noise.
Beautiful, wild thing.
"Fuck!"
Chuuya practically /screams/,muscles in his stomach and thighs clenching in waves. His eyes are squeezing shut, denying Dazai the view of his unfocused, dazed eyes.
Eager to watch him fall apart, Dazai picks up the pace a little bit, pressing his finger into him in tight circles
Eager to watch him fall apart, Dazai picks up the pace a little bit, pressing his finger into him in tight circles
and twisting his palm over the head of his erection, thumbing at the sensitive vein--
And there he goes.
There /might/ have been a warning somewhere in the mess of incoherent moaning, but it mostly comes as a surprise to Dazai.
He keeps his eyes on his stomach, watching his
And there he goes.
There /might/ have been a warning somewhere in the mess of incoherent moaning, but it mostly comes as a surprise to Dazai.
He keeps his eyes on his stomach, watching his
abs flex and shudder with his breath, white cum spilling over Dazai's hand to smear over his navel. His cock twitches hard, in rhythm with his orgasm, throbbing so hard he can almost feel his heartbeat in his palm.
Inside, his muscles are rippling in waves, so tight that Dazai
Inside, his muscles are rippling in waves, so tight that Dazai
is almost pushed out of him.
God, he /cannot/ wait until he can feel that tight, burning wetness around his own erection.
Giving him a moment of response, Dazai stops moving when it looks like he's completely through it. Leaning forward, he kisses along his collarbone, up to
God, he /cannot/ wait until he can feel that tight, burning wetness around his own erection.
Giving him a moment of response, Dazai stops moving when it looks like he's completely through it. Leaning forward, he kisses along his collarbone, up to
his neck and jaw. He lets him come down easily, kissing the breath back into him easily.
He's warm and soft and so /trusting/ beneath him, relaxing into the kiss with a soft whimper. Dazai can't wait to /break/ him with that trust, push him farther than he ever thought he could
He's warm and soft and so /trusting/ beneath him, relaxing into the kiss with a soft whimper. Dazai can't wait to /break/ him with that trust, push him farther than he ever thought he could
go.
Slowly, he lets go of his softening cock, relocating to draw sticky swirls in the mess of cum and lube on his lower stomach. Dazai likes it when he's messy, likes to see physical evidence of what he does to Chuuya.
"Feel good?" He presses the question against the corner of
Slowly, he lets go of his softening cock, relocating to draw sticky swirls in the mess of cum and lube on his lower stomach. Dazai likes it when he's messy, likes to see physical evidence of what he does to Chuuya.
"Feel good?" He presses the question against the corner of
Chuuya's mouth, as tender as the moment calls for.
Chuuya sighs, shudders as his body keeps coming down. "Yeah," he says, nuzzling his cheek into Dazai. His content smile is evident.
"Good," Dazai murmurs, letting satisfaction seep into his tone. "I want you to do it again."
Chuuya sighs, shudders as his body keeps coming down. "Yeah," he says, nuzzling his cheek into Dazai. His content smile is evident.
"Good," Dazai murmurs, letting satisfaction seep into his tone. "I want you to do it again."
Before Chuuya can ask him what he /means/, he pulls his finger back and slides it in again. After his orgasm, and with the lube, any hint of friction has melted away.
"Oh," Chuuya hisses, bucking hard. It seems instinctive, the blind reaction to overstimulation. "Do /what/?"
"Oh," Chuuya hisses, bucking hard. It seems instinctive, the blind reaction to overstimulation. "Do /what/?"
Dazai smiles, making his way down his neck again, breathing hotly over his skin. "I want you to cum for me again."
Looking /strained/ and confused,Chuuya opens his mouth to protest and interrupts himself with a strangled whine when Dazai's finger drives back into him.
Actually,
Looking /strained/ and confused,Chuuya opens his mouth to protest and interrupts himself with a strangled whine when Dazai's finger drives back into him.
Actually,
Dazai is being /very/ nice to him. He's avoiding his prostate, he's not touching his cock--yet-- and he's /nicely/ kissing a path down his body again. He's being /considerate/.
"I /can't/--" Chuuya chokes out, his knee digging into Dazai's side as he struggles to keep calm under
"I /can't/--" Chuuya chokes out, his knee digging into Dazai's side as he struggles to keep calm under
the pleasure-pain.
"You can," Dazai reassures him, radiating confidence. Sliding down, he takes his nipple into his mouth, sucking on it in rhythm with his hand working below.
Chuuya's chest was /already/ made sensitive before, so it's not long before his breathing is breaking
"You can," Dazai reassures him, radiating confidence. Sliding down, he takes his nipple into his mouth, sucking on it in rhythm with his hand working below.
Chuuya's chest was /already/ made sensitive before, so it's not long before his breathing is breaking
on dry, heaving sobs that verge on painful.
After a /long/, ruthless minute, Dazai lets him go. "And you will," he continues, moving steadily downwards.
Hands find his hair again, painfully tight, but Dazai ignores it completely this time. Chuuya needs something to ground
After a /long/, ruthless minute, Dazai lets him go. "And you will," he continues, moving steadily downwards.
Hands find his hair again, painfully tight, but Dazai ignores it completely this time. Chuuya needs something to ground
himself in the onslaught.
He's built up a steady, deep rhythm with his hand, driving Chuuya up again. His lips are brushing down his abdomen, heading unerringly for his target.
Pressing a kiss to his navel, he pauses there and looks up until he catches his eyes. "Red if you +
He's built up a steady, deep rhythm with his hand, driving Chuuya up again. His lips are brushing down his abdomen, heading unerringly for his target.
Pressing a kiss to his navel, he pauses there and looks up until he catches his eyes. "Red if you +
want me to stop," he tells him again, figuring he needs a reminder after how thoroughly Dazai has wrecked him already.
Swirling his tongue over his tongue, picking up the taste of strawberry-bitter that makes a satisfied groan rumble in his, he waits to hear the cue to stop.
Swirling his tongue over his tongue, picking up the taste of strawberry-bitter that makes a satisfied groan rumble in his, he waits to hear the cue to stop.
There's a hitched breath, fingers tightening in his hair--
Otherwise, /beautiful/ silence.
What a good /baby/, Dazai purrs to himself, licking a long stripe over his stomach. The taste of lube and cum is heavy and sticky on his tongue, his favorite meal.
He moves even farther
Otherwise, /beautiful/ silence.
What a good /baby/, Dazai purrs to himself, licking a long stripe over his stomach. The taste of lube and cum is heavy and sticky on his tongue, his favorite meal.
He moves even farther
down, breath washing hot over Chuuya's cock. It's soft still, but fighting to rise again, twitching with Dazai's every movement, thickening slowly but surely.
Pausing there, he lets his eyes wander up, taking in the view. Stomach half-cleaned, nipples red and puffy, the sharp
Pausing there, he lets his eyes wander up, taking in the view. Stomach half-cleaned, nipples red and puffy, the sharp
line of his Adam's Apple and his jaw because his head is so thrown so far back, the wild strands of his hair that's escaped his braid to stick up in random points around his head.
"Baaabyyy," Dazai calls, infusing his voice with as much temptation as he can manage. "Look at me."
"Baaabyyy," Dazai calls, infusing his voice with as much temptation as he can manage. "Look at me."
There's a moment of silence, even Chuuya's breath pausing as he processes the request. His hands tighten, nails digging into Dazai's head.
Then he's shifting, lowering his chin so he can look /down/--
/Finally/, Dazai gets a glimpse of blue-black eyes, huge and dark and so
Then he's shifting, lowering his chin so he can look /down/--
/Finally/, Dazai gets a glimpse of blue-black eyes, huge and dark and so
beautiful with how unfocused they are, how dazed.
"I want you to watch," he murmurs, voice filling the space between them like hot silk.
Chuuya blinks at him,clearly struggling to keep up.
Smiling, Dazai rolls his tongue out and licks one broad, slow, /wet/ stripe up his cock.
"I want you to watch," he murmurs, voice filling the space between them like hot silk.
Chuuya blinks at him,clearly struggling to keep up.
Smiling, Dazai rolls his tongue out and licks one broad, slow, /wet/ stripe up his cock.
Chuuya lets out a strangled, shocked noise, mouth falling open. His eyebrows draw together, and he looks like he just got shoved off a cliff into a new world, drowning in sensation.
Dipping the metal ball of his piercing into the slit at the top, Dazai diligently licks any and
Dipping the metal ball of his piercing into the slit at the top, Dazai diligently licks any and
all traces of lube off of him.
The taste is sweet, cloying strawberry that fills his nose and coats his taste buds, but sweeter /still/ is the look on Chuuya's face, open and stunned.
Without breaking eye contact, Dazai tilts his head, opens his mouth a little more and sucks
The taste is sweet, cloying strawberry that fills his nose and coats his taste buds, but sweeter /still/ is the look on Chuuya's face, open and stunned.
Without breaking eye contact, Dazai tilts his head, opens his mouth a little more and sucks
him in.
Dazai likes the feeling of a soft cock in his mouth. It's warmer, more intimate, and he gets to feel every twitch and pulse as it grows against his tongue, growing hotter and harder with every suckle and stroke of his tongue. He can suck the whole thing inside, and just
Dazai likes the feeling of a soft cock in his mouth. It's warmer, more intimate, and he gets to feel every twitch and pulse as it grows against his tongue, growing hotter and harder with every suckle and stroke of his tongue. He can suck the whole thing inside, and just
sit at the base and drive him /insane/.
The fingers in his hair tighten, pulling on him even as Chuuya's hips stutter upwards. He's breathing hard, every exhale tinged with a rising moan. Even though his eyes look a moment away from rolling back in his head, it's clear he's
The fingers in his hair tighten, pulling on him even as Chuuya's hips stutter upwards. He's breathing hard, every exhale tinged with a rising moan. Even though his eyes look a moment away from rolling back in his head, it's clear he's
trying his hardest to keep his gaze focused on Dazai.
/Good baby/.
When his cock is half-hard again, and the overstimulation is clearly starting to swing back into pure pleasure, Dazai pulls off him with a lewd pop.
"Look up, baby."
Dazai chose this room for a /reason/, and
/Good baby/.
When his cock is half-hard again, and the overstimulation is clearly starting to swing back into pure pleasure, Dazai pulls off him with a lewd pop.
"Look up, baby."
Dazai chose this room for a /reason/, and
it was entirely because of the balcony on the side and the /mirrors/ on the ceiling.
(Confused, Chuuya lets his head fall back onto the pillow. It takes a moment for his vision to clear--the afterimage of Dazai smiling around his cock is imprinted on his eyes like the sweetest
(Confused, Chuuya lets his head fall back onto the pillow. It takes a moment for his vision to clear--the afterimage of Dazai smiling around his cock is imprinted on his eyes like the sweetest
dream, one he wants to see /forever/-- but when it finally does, he catches sight of the mirrors on the ceiling.
/Oh/. That's what they're for.
Chuuya feels /naïve/ for thinking they were for watching yourself sleep or for pictures, because /clearly/ they were meant to give him
/Oh/. That's what they're for.
Chuuya feels /naïve/ for thinking they were for watching yourself sleep or for pictures, because /clearly/ they were meant to give him
a birds-eye view of /this/.
He can see his own body, stretched out along the dark sheets. He's /embarrassingly/ red-faced, all the way up to his /ears/, so dark it almost matches the dark marks that Dazai had left littered along his neck and collarbone.
He likes the sight of
He can see his own body, stretched out along the dark sheets. He's /embarrassingly/ red-faced, all the way up to his /ears/, so dark it almost matches the dark marks that Dazai had left littered along his neck and collarbone.
He likes the sight of
them. It fills him with a strange sort of satisfaction, like he's been /claimed/ for everyone to see and him to know. It felt /great/ getting them, but it feels /thrilling/ to see the evidence.
His nipples are throbbing with abuse, and he can see how red they are. His stomach
His nipples are throbbing with abuse, and he can see how red they are. His stomach
is heaving, the lines of his abs contracting in time. The red-silk tie is starkly colored against his pale wrists, a contrast that makes his heart /burn/ with desire.
And below all of that--
/Dazai/.
Chuuya can't see his face from here, but he /can/ see the wild head of dark
And below all of that--
/Dazai/.
Chuuya can't see his face from here, but he /can/ see the wild head of dark
hair, made even more crazy with the way he's running his fingers through it.
Below /that/, he can see the muscles of Dazai's back and shoulders working, flexing in rhythm with the bobs of his head and the thrust of his finger inside him.
/Fuck/, how is he so /hot/?
Even better
Below /that/, he can see the muscles of Dazai's back and shoulders working, flexing in rhythm with the bobs of his head and the thrust of his finger inside him.
/Fuck/, how is he so /hot/?
Even better
than the pleasure is the fact that he’s so damn /attractive/. From his messy hair to the tongue piercing he can feel doing figure-eights against the underside of his cock, from the defined muscles in his shoulders to the dimples on either side of the base of his spine, just above
his hips. He’s wearing grey sweats, ones that hug his ass /perfectly/, giving Chuuya an /excellent/ view.
He can /also/ see the scratches he left on him last night, red lines criss-crossing over his shoulder blades.
Chuuya wants to sink his teeth into him.
Even if Dazai
He can /also/ see the scratches he left on him last night, red lines criss-crossing over his shoulder blades.
Chuuya wants to sink his teeth into him.
Even if Dazai
/wasn’t/ good— and god, he /is/, so fucking good Chuuya can barely stand it, and it only gets /better/ each time they come together— just the sight /alone/ would elevate the experience into something amazing.
He’s hard again, too soon. He’s never pushed himself this far before—
He’s hard again, too soon. He’s never pushed himself this far before—
didn’t even /know/ he could get hard again so quickly— and the pleasure is a burning, sharp thing. It moves through him like a living thing, carving him open and breaking him open to fill him up with searing ecstasy.
His body won’t calm down, fighting both for and against the
His body won’t calm down, fighting both for and against the
sensations, and it just makes it /worse/.
Every time his hips buck upwards, his erection slides deeper into Dazai’s mouth. The man doesn’t seem to have any gag reflex at all whatsoever, and the feeling of his throat rippling around the head of his cock makes Chuuya sob.
When
Every time his hips buck upwards, his erection slides deeper into Dazai’s mouth. The man doesn’t seem to have any gag reflex at all whatsoever, and the feeling of his throat rippling around the head of his cock makes Chuuya sob.
When
his hips cringe away from the overload, it just drives him /harder/ onto the finger inside of him.Dazai has located that spot inside him again,and every touch of his finger there makes electricity sear through him with the strength of a lighting bolt.
He’s not going to /survive/
He’s not going to /survive/
this. Dazai is going to suck the /life/ out of his dick, and he is going to /die/. )
It’s fun, watching the chibi lose his mind. His body is trying to fight him off, but his /hands/ are knotted in his hair and dragging him closer, and his thigh is wrapped around his shoulder,
It’s fun, watching the chibi lose his mind. His body is trying to fight him off, but his /hands/ are knotted in his hair and dragging him closer, and his thigh is wrapped around his shoulder,
heel digging hard into his spine.
He’s also pleasantly hard in his mouth, pulsing in his throat. Every swallow makes him jerk, every flick of his tongue piercing against the base makes him shudder, every hard /suck/ makes him cry.
Maybe Dazai should have a little mercy on him
He’s also pleasantly hard in his mouth, pulsing in his throat. Every swallow makes him jerk, every flick of his tongue piercing against the base makes him shudder, every hard /suck/ makes him cry.
Maybe Dazai should have a little mercy on him
because he’s /clearly/ struggling but—
Dazai’s having /fun/. He likes driving Chuuya mad. Likes to watch him lose his mind to sensation, pleasure that /only/ Dazai has brought him. Likes to know that he’s the /only/ one to see him like this.
He can’t even tell what Chuuya is
Dazai’s having /fun/. He likes driving Chuuya mad. Likes to watch him lose his mind to sensation, pleasure that /only/ Dazai has brought him. Likes to know that he’s the /only/ one to see him like this.
He can’t even tell what Chuuya is
saying, only that it /sounds/ like demands for more mixed in with his name and /Daddy/ and sobbing moans.
He doesn’t hear anything remotely close to /red/ so...
He ramps it up a little bit. Pinning Chuuya’s hips with one hand, he /forces/ him to take what’s being given to him.
He doesn’t hear anything remotely close to /red/ so...
He ramps it up a little bit. Pinning Chuuya’s hips with one hand, he /forces/ him to take what’s being given to him.
Sucks him down even deeper, until his nose is buried in the short red hairs—okay, /yes/, Dazai is showing off a bit, but who can blame him— and alternating the rhythm of his finger inside him so he can never get used to it.
He slides his /other/ hand underneath him, grabbing
He slides his /other/ hand underneath him, grabbing
his ass and /squeezing/, digging his nails into flesh he /knows/ is still sensitive even if it’s not bruised—
And that, the combination of pain-tipped pleasure and the /reminder/ of how thoroughly Dazai wrecked him last night, seems to be enough.
There’s a strangled cry from
And that, the combination of pain-tipped pleasure and the /reminder/ of how thoroughly Dazai wrecked him last night, seems to be enough.
There’s a strangled cry from
above, and Dazai looks /up/, mouth full--
Chuuya is already looking, eyes huge and eyebrows scrunched, his gaze unfocused but trained on Dazai's face as his thigh tightens around his shoulders, fighting for the last inch of pleasure he needs--
Hollowing out his cheeks, he
Chuuya is already looking, eyes huge and eyebrows scrunched, his gaze unfocused but trained on Dazai's face as his thigh tightens around his shoulders, fighting for the last inch of pleasure he needs--
Hollowing out his cheeks, he
/sucks/, making direct and intense eye contact--
This time, he gets the privilege of seeing the orgasm cross his expression before his cock even twitches in his throat.
His mouth goes slack, a soft moan escaping and building /higher/, louder. The blue of his eyes are nearly
This time, he gets the privilege of seeing the orgasm cross his expression before his cock even twitches in his throat.
His mouth goes slack, a soft moan escaping and building /higher/, louder. The blue of his eyes are nearly
eclipsed by how dark and huge his pupils are, and it's clear that he's looking but he's not /seeing/, pleasure foggy in his gaze. His lashes flutter, but he fights to keep them open and locked on Dazai's face.
Then his hips are straining against the hold Dazai has on them,
Then his hips are straining against the hold Dazai has on them,
instinctually trying to /thrust/ as his cock twitches once, twice in his throat.
Cum has always been a /satisfying/ taste, not because of the flavor itself, but of the pleasure behind it. It means Dazai /won/, means he used his skills to push his partner to the edge and beyond.
Cum has always been a /satisfying/ taste, not because of the flavor itself, but of the pleasure behind it. It means Dazai /won/, means he used his skills to push his partner to the edge and beyond.
It means /success/, and Dazai thrives on being the /best/.
This is the sweetest victory yet, and he drinks it down greedily, pressing his finger against his prostate to coax out another few dribbles and a cracking moan.
Chuuya shoots quickly into painful oversensitivity this
This is the sweetest victory yet, and he drinks it down greedily, pressing his finger against his prostate to coax out another few dribbles and a cracking moan.
Chuuya shoots quickly into painful oversensitivity this
time. He's barely come down and beginning to soften when the hands in Dazai's hair go from pulling to /pushing/.
"I-- Too /much/," he chokes out, half-sobbing.
It's not /red/, it's not even a clear 'stop' but Dazai would be a stubborn idiot if he couldn't read between the
"I-- Too /much/," he chokes out, half-sobbing.
It's not /red/, it's not even a clear 'stop' but Dazai would be a stubborn idiot if he couldn't read between the
lines and pick up the obvious signs. With one last swallow, he pulls off, and eases his finger out of him at the same time.
Chuuya collapses onto the bed, chest heaving as he starts to calm down. They're hopelessly intertwined, with a thigh thrown over Dazai's shoulder, Chuuya's
Chuuya collapses onto the bed, chest heaving as he starts to calm down. They're hopelessly intertwined, with a thigh thrown over Dazai's shoulder, Chuuya's
other ankle hooked over his hip, hands in his hair.
Dazai has one hand underneath him, and the other has moved to drawing soft, soothing circles against the back of his thigh. He's moved on to pressing gentle kisses along his hips and down to his other thigh, lingering over the
Dazai has one hand underneath him, and the other has moved to drawing soft, soothing circles against the back of his thigh. He's moved on to pressing gentle kisses along his hips and down to his other thigh, lingering over the
marks his teeth had left.
The trembling starts not long after that. Dazai /would/ be concerned, but he's figured out that Chuuya gets pretty cold after sex, and a little vulnerable.
They'll have to talk about the best way to ease Chuuya out of his drops later, but for now,
The trembling starts not long after that. Dazai /would/ be concerned, but he's figured out that Chuuya gets pretty cold after sex, and a little vulnerable.
They'll have to talk about the best way to ease Chuuya out of his drops later, but for now,
Dazai has figured out a pretty decent plan for helping him.
Easing his leg off his shoulder, he moves /up/ slowly. He takes his time, pressing tiny kisses over any spot that looks too red and every part that gets his attention. He murmurs compliments into his skin, a promise
Easing his leg off his shoulder, he moves /up/ slowly. He takes his time, pressing tiny kisses over any spot that looks too red and every part that gets his attention. He murmurs compliments into his skin, a promise
sealed with sweat.
Each one makes Chuuya's breath hitch, incredibly soft, his body warm and melted under Dazai's hands,a gift he intends to treasure.
By the time Dazai is pressing kisses up his collarbone, Chuuya's trembling is offset with a low, contented humming. He's moving
Each one makes Chuuya's breath hitch, incredibly soft, his body warm and melted under Dazai's hands,a gift he intends to treasure.
By the time Dazai is pressing kisses up his collarbone, Chuuya's trembling is offset with a low, contented humming. He's moving
underneath him, fluid, arching up into his every touch and silently begging for /more/. More touch, more attention.
He's so /sweet/, Dazai wonders himself, feeling like his chest is too full for words. No one has ever been as sweet or as vulnerable around him, nor so /easily/.
He's so /sweet/, Dazai wonders himself, feeling like his chest is too full for words. No one has ever been as sweet or as vulnerable around him, nor so /easily/.
Even Odasaku, who Dazai would consider his dearest and closest friend, is guarded around him. He keeps secrets, hides his vulnerabilities behind layers of subterfuge and /lies/.
Dazai understands why on a logical level, but it still /hurts/ for everyone he loves to expect a
Dazai understands why on a logical level, but it still /hurts/ for everyone he loves to expect a
knife in his hands. He's worked incredibly hard to let go of that vicious, wounded child inside of him, and grow into someone worthy of life.
It was never easy. It was awful, and it was lonely, and it was the hardest thing he's ever done.
The idea that /most/ people will never
It was never easy. It was awful, and it was lonely, and it was the hardest thing he's ever done.
The idea that /most/ people will never
see him as anything more than the abused, angry child he was...
Hurts.
Chuuya has never treated him like that. Never looked at him with anything other than unwavering trust and affection, and even know he's twisting to nuzzle into Dazai's neck like he knows Dazai will protect
Hurts.
Chuuya has never treated him like that. Never looked at him with anything other than unwavering trust and affection, and even know he's twisting to nuzzle into Dazai's neck like he knows Dazai will protect
him from the world, keep him safe and sheltered and secure.
And he will,Dazai promises himself, wrapping his arms around his baby and dragging him closer, until they're so intertwined he can barely tell where he stops and Chuuya begins. He will protect him.
Dragging his fingers
And he will,Dazai promises himself, wrapping his arms around his baby and dragging him closer, until they're so intertwined he can barely tell where he stops and Chuuya begins. He will protect him.
Dragging his fingers
up and down his spine, he waits for him to calm down.
He's a treasured weight in his arms, sweetly demanding in the way he nuzzles into Dazai's neck until Dazai lifts his chin to give him more room, pushing his leg between Dazai's and intertwining their legs.
Dazai doesn't
He's a treasured weight in his arms, sweetly demanding in the way he nuzzles into Dazai's neck until Dazai lifts his chin to give him more room, pushing his leg between Dazai's and intertwining their legs.
Dazai doesn't
want to lose this. He /knows/ Chuuya is so trusting because he doesn't actually /know/ Dazai, and part of him feels guilty for that.
The other, much larger part of him wants to hold onto this blind affection and hold onto it as long as he can, to let it fill the gaping holes
The other, much larger part of him wants to hold onto this blind affection and hold onto it as long as he can, to let it fill the gaping holes
inside him until he feels warm and whole again.
Even though he hasn’t gotten off, and he’s still mostly-hard in his sweats, /this/ is enough for him. Just the feeling of being appreciated...
Loved.
Eventually Chuuya presses his lips to his neck and makes his way upward. He
Even though he hasn’t gotten off, and he’s still mostly-hard in his sweats, /this/ is enough for him. Just the feeling of being appreciated...
Loved.
Eventually Chuuya presses his lips to his neck and makes his way upward. He
lingers over the spot where his jaw meets his neck, setting his teeth into him with an adorable hesitancy.
When it’s /happening/, Chuuya is shameless and needy, but when the sex is over, he’s more shy and uncertain of himself and what he’s allowed to do.
Threading his fingers
When it’s /happening/, Chuuya is shameless and needy, but when the sex is over, he’s more shy and uncertain of himself and what he’s allowed to do.
Threading his fingers
through his hair— it’s come mostly undone by now, his braid almost non-existent— Dazai tugs his head back and until he can kiss him again.
This one is slower, sweeter, and Dazai swears he could spend hours doing this, wrapped up in bed with Chuuya and feeling so warm.
This one is slower, sweeter, and Dazai swears he could spend hours doing this, wrapped up in bed with Chuuya and feeling so warm.
Maybe Chuuya was onto something when he said they could spend all day in bed. He can’t say it’s not /appealing/, but he’s torn between staying cuddled up together forever or showing him off to the world.
A satisfied breaks their kiss, and Chuuya pulls back a little. “Your turn,”
A satisfied breaks their kiss, and Chuuya pulls back a little. “Your turn,”
he murmurs against the corner of his mouth, his hand sliding down his chest and heading for the waistband of his sweats.
And as tempted as Dazai is—
Bratty behavior doesn’t get /rewards/.
He catches Chuuya by the wrist, bringing his hand back up. Pressing a kiss to the
And as tempted as Dazai is—
Bratty behavior doesn’t get /rewards/.
He catches Chuuya by the wrist, bringing his hand back up. Pressing a kiss to the
center of the palm, he says, “Nope. Brats don’t get my cock.”
Chuuya gapes at him, looking so damn stunned at the consequences of his own behavior that Dazai has to hold back a laugh. “I wasn’t being a /brat/!”
“No?” Dazai laughs, “I’m surprised I have any hair left after the
Chuuya gapes at him, looking so damn stunned at the consequences of his own behavior that Dazai has to hold back a laugh. “I wasn’t being a /brat/!”
“No?” Dazai laughs, “I’m surprised I have any hair left after the
way you were yanking on it. I don’t think bald is a good look on me, thank you.”
Scowling, Chuuya wiggles unhappily. Honestly, Dazai should’ve kept his wrists tied, because he’s /trying/ to be sneaky and sliding his other hand between them.
Brat.
“Be good for your punishment
Scowling, Chuuya wiggles unhappily. Honestly, Dazai should’ve kept his wrists tied, because he’s /trying/ to be sneaky and sliding his other hand between them.
Brat.
“Be good for your punishment
and I’ll think about a reward for later,” Dazai continues, rolling out of Chuuya’s reach. Now that he’s steady, it’s time for them to start getting ready for the day. After last night and this morning, he needs a shower.
Sniffing, Chuuya turns his nose up at him. “Getting two
Sniffing, Chuuya turns his nose up at him. “Getting two
free orgasms without having to reciprocate isn’t a /punishment/, that’s— it’s basically a /reward/!”
“You think so?” Dazai hums, turning to face the bed as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats. He lets them drop, reveling in the swift intake of Chuuya’s breath at
“You think so?” Dazai hums, turning to face the bed as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweats. He lets them drop, reveling in the swift intake of Chuuya’s breath at
the sight.
He lets desire and wicked heat fill his eyes, raking his gaze over Chuuya’s naked body as he reaches /down/, taking himself in hand. He gives himself a languid stroke, two, mentally picturing all the things he could do to Chuuya and letting the chibi use his own
He lets desire and wicked heat fill his eyes, raking his gaze over Chuuya’s naked body as he reaches /down/, taking himself in hand. He gives himself a languid stroke, two, mentally picturing all the things he could do to Chuuya and letting the chibi use his own
imagination to picture what would happen if Dazai got back into bed—
“If you say so,” Dazai shrugs, spinning on his heel to head into the bathroom. He’s smiling, smug and amused.
From behind him, a strangled whimper: “That’s not /fair/.”
Pausing in the doorway, he looks
“If you say so,” Dazai shrugs, spinning on his heel to head into the bathroom. He’s smiling, smug and amused.
From behind him, a strangled whimper: “That’s not /fair/.”
Pausing in the doorway, he looks
over his shoulder. “Baby,” he sighs, tone disbelieving, “when did I ever say I’d play /fair/?”
Teasingly, he sticks out his hips and shakes his ass a little, just to watch blue eyes drop to the temptation—
Scowling, Chuuya throws a pillow at him. It hits him in the butt.
Teasingly, he sticks out his hips and shakes his ass a little, just to watch blue eyes drop to the temptation—
Scowling, Chuuya throws a pillow at him. It hits him in the butt.
“Go take your shower,” Chuuya sniffs, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice sounds grudging, but he’s fighting a smile.
Dazai steps in, just barely hearing the muttered “you fucking jerk,” behind him.
His laugh echoes off the world, and it feels so damn good.
Dazai steps in, just barely hearing the muttered “you fucking jerk,” behind him.
His laugh echoes off the world, and it feels so damn good.
He doesn't take long in the shower. It's just a tiny, momentary separation,but something in him aches at not being in Chuuya's vicinity. Aches enough that he considers inviting him, and coming up with some excuse for the tattoos on his skin.
It's like he's addicted, mind running
It's like he's addicted, mind running
in circles around the need to see him again, when they're going to be together again.
Dazai has done a /lot/ of drugs in his life, but he has to say that /infatuation/ might be the one that hits him the hardest.
Luckily, he did most of his /personal grooming/ before they came
Dazai has done a /lot/ of drugs in his life, but he has to say that /infatuation/ might be the one that hits him the hardest.
Luckily, he did most of his /personal grooming/ before they came
to Osaka, so all he has to do is trim up the happy trail crawling down his stomach to keep it neat, and shave the beginnings of stubble off his cheeks.
His scalp is actually /sore/ from being yanked on, and shampooing makes him wince. Little brat is stronger than he looks.
His scalp is actually /sore/ from being yanked on, and shampooing makes him wince. Little brat is stronger than he looks.
Payback for the spanking, he supposes.
Putting cover-up on his fingers to cover the ink is a tiring but familiar task. He's feeling a bit lazy today, so he just covers his forearms with a double layer of bandages.
He chooses something simple and easy for his clothes; a dark
Putting cover-up on his fingers to cover the ink is a tiring but familiar task. He's feeling a bit lazy today, so he just covers his forearms with a double layer of bandages.
He chooses something simple and easy for his clothes; a dark
grey button-down, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and black jeans that hug his thighs. Silver rings on his fingers, and a chain around his neck that /doesn't/ match Chuuya's necklace, but he'll pretend.
He brushes his hair forward today, letting it hang wild and reckless over
He brushes his hair forward today, letting it hang wild and reckless over
his forehead. He'll need another haircut soon; the undercut in the back has started to grow back thickly.
Dressed,he steps out of the bathroom. Chuuya is still stretched out in the bed,looking like he's alternating between dozing and scrolling through his phone. He looks /lazy/,
Dressed,he steps out of the bathroom. Chuuya is still stretched out in the bed,looking like he's alternating between dozing and scrolling through his phone. He looks /lazy/,
tempting, a siren laying among the rocks to coax him into coming into the water.
"Go shower," Dazai tells him.
Chuuya rolls over to face him, smiling mischievously. His eyes scan Dazai from head to toe, taking in every inch of him and lingering on the places he likes the most.
"Go shower," Dazai tells him.
Chuuya rolls over to face him, smiling mischievously. His eyes scan Dazai from head to toe, taking in every inch of him and lingering on the places he likes the most.
His thighs, his hips, his forearms, the exposed parts of his chest.
Dazai stares back at him, eyebrow raised, outwardly unaffected by the blatant way he's checking him out.
"Do I /have/ to?" Chuuya pouts, stretching. The arch of his back makes the lines of his stomach /very/
Dazai stares back at him, eyebrow raised, outwardly unaffected by the blatant way he's checking him out.
"Do I /have/ to?" Chuuya pouts, stretching. The arch of his back makes the lines of his stomach /very/
tempting. Dazai /just/ had his hands on him, and he's already looking forward to the next time, like some sex-addicted teenager.
"Yes," Dazai says, grabbing the blanket and yanking it off of Chuuya completely, exposing him to the slightly-colder air. "Go, baby."
Sulking, Chuuya
"Yes," Dazai says, grabbing the blanket and yanking it off of Chuuya completely, exposing him to the slightly-colder air. "Go, baby."
Sulking, Chuuya
goes. The pouting is, admittedly, adorable, so Dazai reels him in for a quick kiss on the forehead and then smacks him on the ass to get him moving faster.
He can feel the disgruntled glare on the back of his head for /that/ one.
While Chuuya showers and gets dressed, Dazai
He can feel the disgruntled glare on the back of his head for /that/ one.
While Chuuya showers and gets dressed, Dazai
orders breakfast from room service. Nothing fancy, just more pancakes for Chuuya and a pot of coffee for himself. He's not one for breakfasts, especially sweet foods.
It arrives before Chuuya returns, so Dazai checks his phone while he waits for him to come out, sipping his
It arrives before Chuuya returns, so Dazai checks his phone while he waits for him to come out, sipping his
coffee.
There's a call from Fyodor. A bit strange, because usually it's Dazai calling /him/, but nothing that immediately sets his alarm bells ringing. No voicemail, obviously.
He hovers his thumb over his contact, contemplating if he should call him back. It's never good to
There's a call from Fyodor. A bit strange, because usually it's Dazai calling /him/, but nothing that immediately sets his alarm bells ringing. No voicemail, obviously.
He hovers his thumb over his contact, contemplating if he should call him back. It's never good to
leave him waiting for long, especially if Fyodor needs something from him. He's the petty type, and he has no issue making Dazai's work a living hell for the next few weeks in response.
But...
He's on vacation. A /real/ vacation, with his baby, and it feels wrong to let his
But...
He's on vacation. A /real/ vacation, with his baby, and it feels wrong to let his
work intrude on that. It feels wrong to let his /real/ life touch the bubble of soft, warm, /fun/ space being built by them.
Chuuya comes out then, the golden necklace around his neck and the pair of sun earrings dangling from his ears. His hair is in a high, messy ponytail
Chuuya comes out then, the golden necklace around his neck and the pair of sun earrings dangling from his ears. His hair is in a high, messy ponytail
that makes Dazai's palm itch with the desire to /pull/.
He's wearing the black jeans Dazai bought him yesterday, and a yellow short-sleeved shirt that makes the gold in his hair shine.
He looks /gorgeous/, and Dazai makes the decision easily. He can call Fyodor back later.
He's wearing the black jeans Dazai bought him yesterday, and a yellow short-sleeved shirt that makes the gold in his hair shine.
He looks /gorgeous/, and Dazai makes the decision easily. He can call Fyodor back later.
After their aquarium date, or maybe once they get back to Yokohama and Dazai is ready to work again. It's not like he has a /schedule/ to keep.
After so long of never taking anything for himself, it's all too easy to convince himself.
(He should've answered.)
------ +
After so long of never taking anything for himself, it's all too easy to convince himself.
(He should've answered.)
------ +
Relatively speaking, Dazai Osamu is an easy man to contact, if you have access to the right connections. Especially so for someone like Fyodor, who lies at the top of /his/ food chain, and thus has to deal with people like Dazai, who are both the banes of his existence and an
extraordinary resource. There’s a reason why good information sells for more money than most people see in their lives, and doubly so when you play both sides of the field.
Informants lie somewhere between ally and enemy, a grey area that swings from one side to the other
Informants lie somewhere between ally and enemy, a grey area that swings from one side to the other
depending on the day.
Depending on what /information/ each side has, and Fyodor has /just/ stumbled upon a gold mine.
He knows well enough by now to know that Dazai doesn’t have a decent sleeping schedule or anything else to explain why his call has gone unanswered for the
Depending on what /information/ each side has, and Fyodor has /just/ stumbled upon a gold mine.
He knows well enough by now to know that Dazai doesn’t have a decent sleeping schedule or anything else to explain why his call has gone unanswered for the
past seven hours. There’s only /one/ explanation:
Fyodor is being /ignored/.
Something that Dazai will pay /dearly/ for, because Fyodor /was/ going to be nice and let him offer the Rats something /nice/, so that Fyodor will keep this /interesting/ little secret of his.
Fyodor is being /ignored/.
Something that Dazai will pay /dearly/ for, because Fyodor /was/ going to be nice and let him offer the Rats something /nice/, so that Fyodor will keep this /interesting/ little secret of his.
A /vacation/ in Osaka. Nothing too terribly exciting, expect—
There were /two/ tickets bought. Two people that boarded the plane together, and based on the video footage, they’re /close/.
Nishimoto Norio (one of Dazai’s more established aliases) and..
Nakahara Chuuya.
There were /two/ tickets bought. Two people that boarded the plane together, and based on the video footage, they’re /close/.
Nishimoto Norio (one of Dazai’s more established aliases) and..
Nakahara Chuuya.
Fyodor lights the cigar in his hand, contemplating. The flame makes his eyes look violet-red, steeped in hellfire.
Outsmarting someone like Dazai is a tricky thing. The Demon is smart, wickedly so, someone that even Fyodor would deem a worthy opponent.
Therein lie his weakness
Outsmarting someone like Dazai is a tricky thing. The Demon is smart, wickedly so, someone that even Fyodor would deem a worthy opponent.
Therein lie his weakness
Dazai is like...
A lone wolf. Vicious, unpredictable, and a successful predator. He owns no territory, moving like a ghost in the night, all sharp fangs and surprise attacks. He owes loyalty to no one but himself.
It’s /smart/. By keeping himself isolated, Fyodor has nothing
A lone wolf. Vicious, unpredictable, and a successful predator. He owns no territory, moving like a ghost in the night, all sharp fangs and surprise attacks. He owes loyalty to no one but himself.
It’s /smart/. By keeping himself isolated, Fyodor has nothing
to sink his teeth into, nothing he can tear into to expose his vulnerabilities. It’s what kept him alive and given him so much power, despite everything.
But now...
Fyodor stares at a picture on the monitor. In it, Dazai stares down at a small redhead, arm draped over his
But now...
Fyodor stares at a picture on the monitor. In it, Dazai stares down at a small redhead, arm draped over his
shoulder. His eyes are incredibly soft, warmer and more alive than Fyodor has ever seen them.
He might as well have put a collar on himself and handed the leash to Fyodor.
Not that he /knows/ that, of course. It’s taken great care on Fyodor’s part to keep the fact that he
He might as well have put a collar on himself and handed the leash to Fyodor.
Not that he /knows/ that, of course. It’s taken great care on Fyodor’s part to keep the fact that he
/knows/ about that alias a secret.
He was /planning/ on using it as leverage in a deal later, but this—
This is even /better/.
On his second monitor, he has every scrap of information he could find on Nakahara Chuuya in such a short time. He’ll have his underlings do more
He was /planning/ on using it as leverage in a deal later, but this—
This is even /better/.
On his second monitor, he has every scrap of information he could find on Nakahara Chuuya in such a short time. He’ll have his underlings do more
research on him, but he’s already interesting.
Mostly because his file has been /wiped/. No family. No home address. No hospital records.
As far as his record goes, Nakahara has barely existed outside of this year.
It’s clean. /Too/ clean, a rush job that’s just as telling.
Mostly because his file has been /wiped/. No family. No home address. No hospital records.
As far as his record goes, Nakahara has barely existed outside of this year.
It’s clean. /Too/ clean, a rush job that’s just as telling.
Someone is protecting him.
Obviously, the first thought is Dazai himself, but his rival wouldn't be so glaringly obvious. Fyodor hasn't personally met that hacker kid of his, but Rokuzou wouldn't be so /clumsy/.
Besides, Fyodor is sure that the information he fed Dazai, the
Obviously, the first thought is Dazai himself, but his rival wouldn't be so glaringly obvious. Fyodor hasn't personally met that hacker kid of his, but Rokuzou wouldn't be so /clumsy/.
Besides, Fyodor is sure that the information he fed Dazai, the
bit around the Azure King signing with an American business is probably keeping the Rokuzou very busy.
Which is the exact reason Fyodor arranged that deal in the first place. Rokuzou is far too talented for his own good, and /far/ too loyal to Dazai, so he needed to be...
Which is the exact reason Fyodor arranged that deal in the first place. Rokuzou is far too talented for his own good, and /far/ too loyal to Dazai, so he needed to be...
Distracted. Fyodor can't afford to have him discovering his plans before he's ready for it, so he had to throw him a bone to keep him out of the picture.
Someone else then.
Humming in contemplation, he zooms in on the airport picture he has of Nakahara. He's pretty, Fyodor can
Someone else then.
Humming in contemplation, he zooms in on the airport picture he has of Nakahara. He's pretty, Fyodor can
see the appeal.
Petite, flaming red hair, freckles, nicely shaped. The smile on his face is contagious and overall /much/ too sweet for someone like Dazai.
Wolves always chase after the lambs, don't they? Fyodor himself has fallen into that habit more than a few times, getting
Petite, flaming red hair, freckles, nicely shaped. The smile on his face is contagious and overall /much/ too sweet for someone like Dazai.
Wolves always chase after the lambs, don't they? Fyodor himself has fallen into that habit more than a few times, getting
tangled up with someone much too innocent for someone like him.
The difference between them is that Fyodor /doesn't/ go on vacations with his flavor of the month. He savors the taste of blood in his mouth, soft skin under his teeth, a slender body under his--
Then lets them go.
The difference between them is that Fyodor /doesn't/ go on vacations with his flavor of the month. He savors the taste of blood in his mouth, soft skin under his teeth, a slender body under his--
Then lets them go.
Not because he cares about /them/ necessarily, but because every connection he has is a weakness his enemies can exploit.
He’d carve himself into pieces before he lets his plans fail or go unfinished.
There’s a bottle of Absolut sitting on his desk, glacier cold. He pours
He’d carve himself into pieces before he lets his plans fail or go unfinished.
There’s a bottle of Absolut sitting on his desk, glacier cold. He pours
himself a shot, throwing it back and swallowing it easily.The vodka hits his stomach and spreads warmth through him.
There’s something /familiar/ about Nakahara Chuuya. Not his face, because his features are pretty recognizable and Fyodor would remember those blue eyes anywhere.
There’s something /familiar/ about Nakahara Chuuya. Not his face, because his features are pretty recognizable and Fyodor would remember those blue eyes anywhere.
His /name/ though, it itches at the back of his mind.
He has a great memory, but it’s been a /long/ day, and he’s been too busy doing more /enjoyable/ things rather than sleeping lately so—
It takes him a minute, before it clicks.
Oh. That is quite the coincidence, isn’t it?
He has a great memory, but it’s been a /long/ day, and he’s been too busy doing more /enjoyable/ things rather than sleeping lately so—
It takes him a minute, before it clicks.
Oh. That is quite the coincidence, isn’t it?
His lips curl into a smile, wicked In that case—
At least it’ll be easy to keep an eye on him.
“Boss?”
Looking up, he catches sight of one of his newer recruits hanging nervously in the doorway. Poor thing, always looks like Fyodor is going to devour her.
He might, if she
At least it’ll be easy to keep an eye on him.
“Boss?”
Looking up, he catches sight of one of his newer recruits hanging nervously in the doorway. Poor thing, always looks like Fyodor is going to devour her.
He might, if she
asks nicely enough.
“Yes, my dear?” He responds, leaning back further in his chair. He knows he looks intimidating; he keeps it dark in his office to help with his migraines, so /most/ of what his visitors see is what the flame of his cigar reveals as he pulls on it.
Dark,
“Yes, my dear?” He responds, leaning back further in his chair. He knows he looks intimidating; he keeps it dark in his office to help with his migraines, so /most/ of what his visitors see is what the flame of his cigar reveals as he pulls on it.
Dark,
unruly hair, usually pulled up into a messy bun. Violet eyes that reflect the firelight. A devilish smirk, the sharp cut of his collarbones.
Yes, he knows he looks good. He uses that to his advantage more often than not. Most people don’t expect fangs behind a pretty smile.
Yes, he knows he looks good. He uses that to his advantage more often than not. Most people don’t expect fangs behind a pretty smile.
“The American man, Fitzgerald? He’s on the phone waiting for you. Would you like me to take a message?”
He sighs, his patience stringing as thin as spiders silk. Truthfully, he loathes the American. He’s very loud, calls him too-familiar names, talks too much.
It’s annoying
He sighs, his patience stringing as thin as spiders silk. Truthfully, he loathes the American. He’s very loud, calls him too-familiar names, talks too much.
It’s annoying
having to deal with him. Always takes up too much time and effort.
Ah, but everyone loved American money, even Fyodor. And, like all American businessmen, Fitzgerald always believed he was the smartest, and most powerful man in the room.
It was far too easy to manipulate him.
Ah, but everyone loved American money, even Fyodor. And, like all American businessmen, Fitzgerald always believed he was the smartest, and most powerful man in the room.
It was far too easy to manipulate him.
Sighing again, he leans back further in his chair, tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling as he takes another drag. “No, transfer him to me. Thanks, dear.”
The girl ducks out with a nod, red-faced. She’s little more than a secretary, another part of the disguise of a
The girl ducks out with a nod, red-faced. She’s little more than a secretary, another part of the disguise of a
legal company.
Seeming morally correct and above ground makes things easier and smoother.
A moment later, his phone rings. He presses accept.
“Good morning, old sport! I was just checking in on the progress of that little project we’re working on together—.”
——— +
Seeming morally correct and above ground makes things easier and smoother.
A moment later, his phone rings. He presses accept.
“Good morning, old sport! I was just checking in on the progress of that little project we’re working on together—.”
——— +
Dazai has never been to the Osaka Aquarium Kaiyukan, and for that, he's grateful. If he were by himself, his mind would've reminded him that he'd seen all these animals before on wildlife documentary's or other aquariums, and that there was nothing to be /impressed/ about.
Chuuya, though, /loves/ it. He stares at everything with a healthy mix of youthful wonder and sheltered inexperience, and everything is so /exciting/ to him.
He has an excited grin when a seal gracefully twists and turns near the glass walls, clearly showing off. A gasp when he
He has an excited grin when a seal gracefully twists and turns near the glass walls, clearly showing off. A gasp when he
reaches into the manta ray tank and feels the rough-slick skin of a shark under his hands. Pointing out all the tiny fish hiding in the coral reefs, a small game of 'I Spy'. Standing in the tunnel and looking so /small/ and in awe of all the fish swimming around and above him.
There's a time when a pufferfish, obviously startled by /something/, swims by the glass slowly with it's tiny little body puffed up to the max, spines sticking out, and Chuuya--
He scrunches his eyebrows in and puffs his cheeks up with air, and /god/, its so adorable and funny
He scrunches his eyebrows in and puffs his cheeks up with air, and /god/, its so adorable and funny
that Dazai has to cover his mouth with his hand so he doesn't ruin the video he's taking with his laughing.
They kiss in the jellyfish room,where the blue-white light makes Chuuya's eyes shine brilliantly. People stare and some people mutter grudgingly, but Dazai silently glares
They kiss in the jellyfish room,where the blue-white light makes Chuuya's eyes shine brilliantly. People stare and some people mutter grudgingly, but Dazai silently glares
at them until they leave the exhibit with a huff. No one is about to ruin the aquarium for /his/ baby.
They spend most of the day there, wandering around and looking at all the fish until Chuuya finally has his fill. There's a decently sized souvenir shop near the front door.
They spend most of the day there, wandering around and looking at all the fish until Chuuya finally has his fill. There's a decently sized souvenir shop near the front door.
Dazai buys Chuuya a silver bracelet with a little shark charm hanging from it. It has space for other charms to be added later.
And while they’re in this part of town, Dazai has another stop to make:
HANA’s ADULT ENTERTAINMENT STORE. MUST SHOW ID TO ENTER.
And while they’re in this part of town, Dazai has another stop to make:
HANA’s ADULT ENTERTAINMENT STORE. MUST SHOW ID TO ENTER.
Now, is taking Chuuya to a sex shop a little mean? Perhaps.
But Dazai’s gone through the /entirety/ of the stores in Yokohama, and he prefers to look at his toys before he buys them and—
What better way to show Chuuya all the /fun/ and interesting things Dazai could use on him?
But Dazai’s gone through the /entirety/ of the stores in Yokohama, and he prefers to look at his toys before he buys them and—
What better way to show Chuuya all the /fun/ and interesting things Dazai could use on him?
The poor thing looks like he got slapped in the face when he walks in and is confronted by an entire wall of dildos.
Dazai can’t /wait/ to break him out of the embarrassment he has towards sex. It’s cute, but he likes the shameless version of Chuuya a bit better—
And if
Dazai can’t /wait/ to break him out of the embarrassment he has towards sex. It’s cute, but he likes the shameless version of Chuuya a bit better—
And if
they’re going to do more /daring/ things in public— Dazai is very much an exhibitionist and he /suspects/ Chuuya might be too— then he’s got to get /used/ to it.
“This is a /sex store/,” Chuuya hisses, following on his heels as Dazai moves to the back, to the restraints section.
“This is a /sex store/,” Chuuya hisses, following on his heels as Dazai moves to the back, to the restraints section.
Dazai snorts. “Yes. Was it the dildos or the vibrators that tipped you off?”
“Fuck off,” Chuuya says, looking very startled by a pair of handcuffs hanging on the wall. “I didn’t even know they /had/ stores like these.”
Oh, he really /was/ sheltered, wasn’t he? Dazai’s
“Fuck off,” Chuuya says, looking very startled by a pair of handcuffs hanging on the wall. “I didn’t even know they /had/ stores like these.”
Oh, he really /was/ sheltered, wasn’t he? Dazai’s
really corrupting him.
Maybe that thought shouldn’t be as appealing as it is.
“They do. Lots. My favorite one is in Tokyo, but it hasn’t gotten new stuff in a while.”
Chuuya makes a noise of shock, attention caught by a package sitting on the shelf. He reaches up, pulling
Maybe that thought shouldn’t be as appealing as it is.
“They do. Lots. My favorite one is in Tokyo, but it hasn’t gotten new stuff in a while.”
Chuuya makes a noise of shock, attention caught by a package sitting on the shelf. He reaches up, pulling
it off the shelf. It’s a dildo, one of the larger ones, flesh-colored.
Dazai likes the colored ones a lot better, personally.
“People actually use this stuff?” Chuuya asks, astonished. He holds the package to his belly, illustrating the fact that it’s almost as long as his
Dazai likes the colored ones a lot better, personally.
“People actually use this stuff?” Chuuya asks, astonished. He holds the package to his belly, illustrating the fact that it’s almost as long as his
torso. “This would kill me!”
Hanging nearby, there are packages of finger-vibrators, designed to slip onto the tips of your fingers. Dazai pulls one down, inspecting it. He doesn’t have one. “No, it wouldn’t,” he snorts, “not with time and preparation.”
Chuuya shakes the
Hanging nearby, there are packages of finger-vibrators, designed to slip onto the tips of your fingers. Dazai pulls one down, inspecting it. He doesn’t have one. “No, it wouldn’t,” he snorts, “not with time and preparation.”
Chuuya shakes the
package at him, like he’s not seeing it correctly. “There is no way something like this would fit inside me.”
“Sweetheart,” Dazai sighs,tossing one of the purple finger-vibrators in the basket. Chuuya hasn’t felt a vibrator before and he wants to /feel/ his reaction in his hands
“Sweetheart,” Dazai sighs,tossing one of the purple finger-vibrators in the basket. Chuuya hasn’t felt a vibrator before and he wants to /feel/ his reaction in his hands
the first time. “That’s not that much bigger than I am.”
Chuuya looks at him. Looks at the dildo. Back at him, eyes squinting suspiciously. “You’re lying.”
(Chuuya is /frantically/ dragging up the memories of when Dazai’s erection against him because—
It can’t be /that/ big.
Chuuya looks at him. Looks at the dildo. Back at him, eyes squinting suspiciously. “You’re lying.”
(Chuuya is /frantically/ dragging up the memories of when Dazai’s erection against him because—
It can’t be /that/ big.
Right?)
Dazai continues deeper into the store. When he was looking online, he saw that this store had remote-controlled vibrators that synced to a smartphone, but he can’t see to find him. He hopes they’re not out of stock. “It’s a lot more intimidating when you’re not excited.”
Dazai continues deeper into the store. When he was looking online, he saw that this store had remote-controlled vibrators that synced to a smartphone, but he can’t see to find him. He hopes they’re not out of stock. “It’s a lot more intimidating when you’re not excited.”
(Well, that’s certainly true. When Chuuya was half-delirious with lust and getting his hands and mouth on Dazai, his reaction wasn’t...
‘Oh fuck it’s big.’
And more of a...
‘Oh /fuck/, it’s /big/.’ )
Chuuya trails after him, fingers so tight around the package that Dazai
‘Oh fuck it’s big.’
And more of a...
‘Oh /fuck/, it’s /big/.’ )
Chuuya trails after him, fingers so tight around the package that Dazai
is starting to suspect that this might be a cover-up for him being /interested/ in it. “I don’t believe you.”
Dazai turns his head, offering a self-satisfied smirk. “No? Should we take it home and compare sizes then?”
Chuuya looks briefly intimidated. Then curious.
Dazai turns his head, offering a self-satisfied smirk. “No? Should we take it home and compare sizes then?”
Chuuya looks briefly intimidated. Then curious.
Dazai really isn't lying. At 10.5 inches, the dildo isn't that much /longer/ than he is, though he does have to admit it is quite a bit thicker than him.Not that he's lacking in /girth/, but--
Those things are built to be unrealistic. A fantasy cock.
"I think I'm better off not
Those things are built to be unrealistic. A fantasy cock.
"I think I'm better off not
knowing the details," Chuuya says, putting the toy back. He looks a bit paler than before.
Dazai agrees, at least for now. Seeing it in person can be intimidating, but that's easily countered by getting him /excited/. Knowing the exact /numbers/ might be too much.
From there,
Dazai agrees, at least for now. Seeing it in person can be intimidating, but that's easily countered by getting him /excited/. Knowing the exact /numbers/ might be too much.
From there,
Chuuya wanders on his own for a while. The store is decently big--understandable, considering it's near the Osaka shopping district-- and the elevator music playing through the speakers somehow makes the store seem less.
/Obscene/.
Dazai leaves him to it, making his way to the
/Obscene/.
Dazai leaves him to it, making his way to the
back. There's an entire wall of ropes in different colors, shapes and sizes. Admittedly, his knowledge of shibari is /limited/-- easily rectified by a few days of research-- but the idea of Chuuya being wrapped up in rope and knots, completely at his mercy...
Delicious. He got
Delicious. He got
the idea this morning, when Chuuya responded so /eagerly/ to his tie around his wrists.
Occasionally, Chuuya will find him, each time with a different object in his hand. "What is this?"
"Edible wax. You light the candle, pour it on someone, then you can eat it off."
"Doesn't
Occasionally, Chuuya will find him, each time with a different object in his hand. "What is this?"
"Edible wax. You light the candle, pour it on someone, then you can eat it off."
"Doesn't
that /hurt/?"
"The candles melt at a lower temperature than regular candles, so not as much as you think, but yes, a little."
"And people are /into/ that?"
"Weren't you the one who came when I spanked you?"
"Don't say that /out loud/!"
Huffy, he leaves again and comes back a
"The candles melt at a lower temperature than regular candles, so not as much as you think, but yes, a little."
"And people are /into/ that?"
"Weren't you the one who came when I spanked you?"
"Don't say that /out loud/!"
Huffy, he leaves again and comes back a
flogger dangling from his fingertips. "Is this a /whip/?"
Dazai snorts. "Not quite.Same concept though.Hurts less, spreads out any bruising."
He can't tell if the rising blush on Chuuya's cheeks is because of /general/ embarrassment or if he's thinking about something specific.
Dazai snorts. "Not quite.Same concept though.Hurts less, spreads out any bruising."
He can't tell if the rising blush on Chuuya's cheeks is because of /general/ embarrassment or if he's thinking about something specific.
When he leaves again, Dazai picks up a skein of red rope. It's longer than what he's used to, and softer, clearly more orientated towards longer and more involved play.
He spreads it out over his fingers, wondering how it'd look knotted over Chuuya's bare skin.
This time, when
He spreads it out over his fingers, wondering how it'd look knotted over Chuuya's bare skin.
This time, when
he comes back, it's with something Dazai hadn't even /considered/.
"Plug," he answers before Chuuya even has time to voice his question.
"But it has a..." Chuuya trails off, gesturing to it. He's holding the package by the very tips of his fingers, like it's already dirty.
"Plug," he answers before Chuuya even has time to voice his question.
"But it has a..." Chuuya trails off, gesturing to it. He's holding the package by the very tips of his fingers, like it's already dirty.
"A tail?"
Personally, Dazai was never really into pet play. He thought the nicknames were cute-- he's particularly partial to /kitten/-- but he's never explored it or felt the need to /find/ someone who wanted to be his kitty.
Now that he's thinking about it, though, Chuuya
Personally, Dazai was never really into pet play. He thought the nicknames were cute-- he's particularly partial to /kitten/-- but he's never explored it or felt the need to /find/ someone who wanted to be his kitty.
Now that he's thinking about it, though, Chuuya
/would/ look pretty cute with a tail Dazai could pull on, a cute pair of ears, a collar with a bell and a /leash/--
Chuuya looks aghast and intrigued, staring at the grey fox-tail like it might answer some of his questions.
"Haven't you heard of the term sex kitten?" Dazai
Chuuya looks aghast and intrigued, staring at the grey fox-tail like it might answer some of his questions.
"Haven't you heard of the term sex kitten?" Dazai
teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Mrow."
/That/ makes Chuuya laugh, bright and clear. Dazai swears he could live off the sound /alone/, spend all of his days making him laugh /just like that/ and be perfectly content.
"Come here," he croons, crooking his finger at
/That/ makes Chuuya laugh, bright and clear. Dazai swears he could live off the sound /alone/, spend all of his days making him laugh /just like that/ and be perfectly content.
"Come here," he croons, crooking his finger at
him in invitation, smiling sweetly. The way Chuuya /immediately/ moves forward, without question or hesitation, makes Dazai feel on top of the world.
He lays the rope over his shoulder when he's close enough, taking a moment to rub his thumb over his pulse point and relishing
He lays the rope over his shoulder when he's close enough, taking a moment to rub his thumb over his pulse point and relishing
in the way his heart jumps underneath his touch. He's so /responsive/.
"Do you want to tie me up?" Chuuya asks, a breathy edge to his voice. His posture has grown stiff, and Dazai wants to wrap his fingers around that tension and /pull/, mold it into the perfect shape.
"I think
"Do you want to tie me up?" Chuuya asks, a breathy edge to his voice. His posture has grown stiff, and Dazai wants to wrap his fingers around that tension and /pull/, mold it into the perfect shape.
"I think
the better question," Dazai responds, letting his voice drop into something low and /intimate/, a subtle reminder of what he sounds like when Chuuya is /under/ him. By the blush growing on his cheeks and the way he sways forward, caught in Dazai's orbit, it works.
He spreads the
He spreads the
rope a little more over his shoulder, comparing the contrast between his skin. The rope is more of a /bright/ red, which looks good-- his blue eyes turn /searingly/ bright when paired with anything red-- but Dazai thinks that a darker red, more of a blood color with hints of
/black/. He can see the pattern now, swirling over his hands and up his forearms, down his thighs in an elegant pattern.
"Is if /you/ want me to tie you up," Dazai continues, and he's not /looking/ at Chuuya, pretending to be more interested in the rope, but he can /feel/ the
"Is if /you/ want me to tie you up," Dazai continues, and he's not /looking/ at Chuuya, pretending to be more interested in the rope, but he can /feel/ the
burning gaze on his cheek, and it makes hunger spiral through him.
"I don't know," Chuuya mutters, shuffling on his feet. The parts of his shoulders exposed by his shirt are covered in goosebumps. "I want to try, though."
Humming, Dazai lets his hand drift to the center,
"I don't know," Chuuya mutters, shuffling on his feet. The parts of his shoulders exposed by his shirt are covered in goosebumps. "I want to try, though."
Humming, Dazai lets his hand drift to the center,
fingertips brushing over his neck. Slowly, he lets his fingers wrap around his throat, not tight but still commanding in how soft and assured his grip is.
He tips his chin up, forcing him to look /up/ at him, blue eyes wide and dilated. Dazai can see himself reflected there and
He tips his chin up, forcing him to look /up/ at him, blue eyes wide and dilated. Dazai can see himself reflected there and
he /likes/ that, the idea that the only thing he can see is /him/, that his entire world begins and ends with Dazai.
He's always been /possessive/, wants to take and take and take until he's only person /left/, the only thing that ever matters to the people closest to him. It's
He's always been /possessive/, wants to take and take and take until he's only person /left/, the only thing that ever matters to the people closest to him. It's
a bad habit, something he works to overcome--
But he can't /help/ it sometimes.
"Then we'll try it," he promises, leaning down to press a single kiss to his lips, setting off a slow, devouring hunger.
If Chuuya wants it, Dazai will give him anything he asks for.
----- +
But he can't /help/ it sometimes.
"Then we'll try it," he promises, leaning down to press a single kiss to his lips, setting off a slow, devouring hunger.
If Chuuya wants it, Dazai will give him anything he asks for.
----- +
Kyouka picks up on the third ring, grunting out an irritated "hello?"
Kouyou spins in her chair, holding her phone to her ear. Usually, she takes her calls on speaker on the office phone, but /this/ one is different. "Do you remember that one time you got caught sneaking out and
Kouyou spins in her chair, holding her phone to her ear. Usually, she takes her calls on speaker on the office phone, but /this/ one is different. "Do you remember that one time you got caught sneaking out and
I covered for you to Dad?
There's a long pause on the other end as Kyouka decides if she's being /serious/. "You mean when I was /fifteen/? Almost seven years ago? That time?"
"Yeah. I'm calling in that favor you owe me for that."
"You can't be serious," Kyouka says,
There's a long pause on the other end as Kyouka decides if she's being /serious/. "You mean when I was /fifteen/? Almost seven years ago? That time?"
"Yeah. I'm calling in that favor you owe me for that."
"You can't be serious," Kyouka says,
tone exasperated. There's the sound of music in the background, the usual instrumentals she listens to when working on another project.
Good. Kouyou has caught her at a good moment then, when the creative juices are flowing, or whatever it is that artists say. "Nope," she
Good. Kouyou has caught her at a good moment then, when the creative juices are flowing, or whatever it is that artists say. "Nope," she
says, watching the door carefully. Oda said he was going to get them both food, which Kouyou took as the perfect opportunity to call her sister in secret, but he could return at any moment. "I need you to make something for me."
"Send me an e-mail like everyone else then?"
"Send me an e-mail like everyone else then?"
Normally,Kouyou /does/ respect that Kyouka essentially runs her own business and files her requests like everyone else. But she knows for a fact that her little sister is /always/ busy, and it’s already almost August.
If she’s going to get Oda’s birthday present on /time/, she’s
If she’s going to get Oda’s birthday present on /time/, she’s
got to bend the rules a little bit.
“I’m your /sister/,” she sniffs, “and you owe me for putting up with you our entire lives.”
Kyouka heaves a sigh. “Fine. What do you want?”
“Oda needs new shoulder holsters. His are /old/, and if I have to watch him put on that cracked
“I’m your /sister/,” she sniffs, “and you owe me for putting up with you our entire lives.”
Kyouka heaves a sigh. “Fine. What do you want?”
“Oda needs new shoulder holsters. His are /old/, and if I have to watch him put on that cracked
leather one more time, I'm going to go out and kill a cow my damn self."
They're /horrendous/, old and worn and frayed through in some parts. Which isn't to say that Oda doesn't take /care/ of his belongings-- he /does/, spends hours a week making sure all his equipment and
They're /horrendous/, old and worn and frayed through in some parts. Which isn't to say that Oda doesn't take /care/ of his belongings-- he /does/, spends hours a week making sure all his equipment and
weapons are in top condition, cleaned and functioning perfectly. But sometimes being a bodyguard means getting blood and /worse/ on yourself, and sometimes it takes a few hours or days before you can clean it off completely.
Oda's been making noises about being fitted for new
Oda's been making noises about being fitted for new
holsters-- he's been bulking up lately, especially in the chest and arms area, something that Kouyou is /not/ complaining about-- but the man is so wary about spending more than few hours away from her that he hasn't actually gone about doing it.
Which is where Kyouka comes in.
Which is where Kyouka comes in.
Beyond her actual schooling and part-time internship at some fashion company, she /also/ designs exclusive clothing for the people of the /underground/ sort.
Need hidden knife sheaths in your dress? Holsters fitted to your size? Secret pockets sewn into the lining of your
Need hidden knife sheaths in your dress? Holsters fitted to your size? Secret pockets sewn into the lining of your
clothing that won't be detected with a pat-down? Need /anything/ specific for your clothes that takes skill, creativity and the ability to keep a secret?
Kyouka's your girl. She's practically got half the underground coming to her with custom orders.
She's built quite a name
Kyouka's your girl. She's practically got half the underground coming to her with custom orders.
She's built quite a name
for herself as someone talented and patient, but /not/ someone to be messed with lightly.
And she did it all by herself, because Kouyou has had /all/ of her families records secretly wiped, to keep from any connections being drawn between her and her family.
It makes her glow
And she did it all by herself, because Kouyou has had /all/ of her families records secretly wiped, to keep from any connections being drawn between her and her family.
It makes her glow
with pride, to see how far she's come and how much /better/ she's done than Kouyou. How much more independent and free she is, despite everythng.
"He liked that one design he saw when we last came over for dinner," Kouyou offers, checking the clock. They've been on the phone for
"He liked that one design he saw when we last came over for dinner," Kouyou offers, checking the clock. They've been on the phone for
almost ten minutes now. Oda will probably be back soon. They need to hurry this up, so it will be a surprise.
"The ones with the snakes on them?"
From what Kouyou had seen, the plans for them had been black leather with red snakes tooled into them, or something like that. The
"The ones with the snakes on them?"
From what Kouyou had seen, the plans for them had been black leather with red snakes tooled into them, or something like that. The
blueprints were hard to read for her but the idea seemed pretty cool, and Oda liked them a lot. "Yeah, those ones."
Kyouka sighs. Her voice is farther away now, like she's set her phone down somewhere nearby. "Fine. I assume it's for his birthday?"
Kouyou nods, forgetting that
Kyouka sighs. Her voice is farther away now, like she's set her phone down somewhere nearby. "Fine. I assume it's for his birthday?"
Kouyou nods, forgetting that
she can't be seen. "Yes," she adds.
"I'll see what I can do. You'll have to send me his measurements though. I assume they've changed since the last time I measured him."
Oh, /definitely/. He's been on a kick lately, upping his work-out routine and bulking up. It's pretty sexy,
"I'll see what I can do. You'll have to send me his measurements though. I assume they've changed since the last time I measured him."
Oh, /definitely/. He's been on a kick lately, upping his work-out routine and bulking up. It's pretty sexy,
to be honest, so she's not complaining.
It's fine either way, because she took his measurements only a couple weeks ago so she could order that one lingerie set that would look /exquisite/ with his red hair. She'll just add a few centimeters for wiggle room, and it should turn
It's fine either way, because she took his measurements only a couple weeks ago so she could order that one lingerie set that would look /exquisite/ with his red hair. She'll just add a few centimeters for wiggle room, and it should turn
out fine. "I'll send those over to you by the end of the day."
Probably by the end of the hour, to be truthful, she wants to get this project started as soon as possible--
"Cool. By the way, have you heard from Chuuya letely?"
That makes her pause, frowning. "No, why?"
Probably by the end of the hour, to be truthful, she wants to get this project started as soon as possible--
"Cool. By the way, have you heard from Chuuya letely?"
That makes her pause, frowning. "No, why?"
There's a rattle on the other line, the phone being picked up again. Kyouka's voice is suddenly much clearly, and tinted with exasperated concern. "He hasn't been answering Dad's calls and... well, you know how Dad gets."
Yeah, she does. /Still/ the worrier and overthinker,
Yeah, she does. /Still/ the worrier and overthinker,
always looking for the spider underneath the rock.
Truthfully, Chuuya hasn't been talking to her much lately either, but he gets like this. When he's in a new situation--going to college, for instance--, he tends to cling onto the familiar until he's comfortable.
Then he's off
Truthfully, Chuuya hasn't been talking to her much lately either, but he gets like this. When he's in a new situation--going to college, for instance--, he tends to cling onto the familiar until he's comfortable.
Then he's off
like the social butterfly he is, leaving them to their own devices as he explores. He's never /totally/ silent, but there's a definite shift in priorities.
"Last time we spoke was about..." she has to think about it, tapping her nails on the desk. "Two weeks ago? He seemed
"Last time we spoke was about..." she has to think about it, tapping her nails on the desk. "Two weeks ago? He seemed
fine then."
More than fine, really, he sounded /happy/. Genuinely, overwhelmingly happy. So much so that it shocked her a little bit, in a good way. He's always been more /passionate/ and irritable than happy.
Kyouka sighs. "I'll tell Dad that, but he's not going to let it go
More than fine, really, he sounded /happy/. Genuinely, overwhelmingly happy. So much so that it shocked her a little bit, in a good way. He's always been more /passionate/ and irritable than happy.
Kyouka sighs. "I'll tell Dad that, but he's not going to let it go
until he calls."
A shadow moving in the hallway catches her eye. It's only because she's so familiar with the outline that she recognizes it as Oda. Plus, the myriad of guards would make it /extremely/ difficult for anyone else to get this far into the building.
He's back then.
A shadow moving in the hallway catches her eye. It's only because she's so familiar with the outline that she recognizes it as Oda. Plus, the myriad of guards would make it /extremely/ difficult for anyone else to get this far into the building.
He's back then.
At least /this/ is a conversation she can explain away.
When Oda pushes through the door to the conference room she's in, she gives him a greeting smile as she says, "I know but.. try to convince him that he's just having fun doing things in college. You know how boys are.
When Oda pushes through the door to the conference room she's in, she gives him a greeting smile as she says, "I know but.. try to convince him that he's just having fun doing things in college. You know how boys are.
Always being stupid. He's probably off doing some idiotic adventures with his new friends, or maybe he's got a new crush or something.
He'll be fine. He's a responsible adult. What's the worst that could happen?"
------ +
He'll be fine. He's a responsible adult. What's the worst that could happen?"
------ +
In all of his 18 years of existence, agreeing to be tied up was the /best/ idea Chuuya's ever had.
"/Fuck/!" He pants, tears of overstimulation beginning to pool at the corner of his eyes. "More, please, more, /more/."
With his position-- spread out underneath Dazai with his
"/Fuck/!" He pants, tears of overstimulation beginning to pool at the corner of his eyes. "More, please, more, /more/."
With his position-- spread out underneath Dazai with his
thighs pinned to the bed and his wrists tied to the bedframe-- he can't /take/ what he needs. He's stuck with mindless, frantic begging, hoping that Dazai will take /any/ kind of mercy on him.
Chuuya /does/ know how to undo the knot holding his hands hostage. Dazai showed him
Chuuya /does/ know how to undo the knot holding his hands hostage. Dazai showed him
in the beginning. The wrapping around his wrists is a bit more complicated, but the tie holding him to the bedframe is just a simple slip knot.
It'll hold him firm when he pulls and tugs on it, but it only takes one, simple tug on the release rope hanging /right/ next to his
It'll hold him firm when he pulls and tugs on it, but it only takes one, simple tug on the release rope hanging /right/ next to his
hands for him to free himself. One pull.
He knows how to undo the knot but he almost wishes he /didn't/, because, /fuck/, there's such an erotic, /filthy/ heat in the idea of being bound and /completely/ helpless as Dazai makes his mind melt with pleasure.
He knows how to undo the knot but he almost wishes he /didn't/, because, /fuck/, there's such an erotic, /filthy/ heat in the idea of being bound and /completely/ helpless as Dazai makes his mind melt with pleasure.
And /god/, if his mind isn’t melting. He’s all sensation, instinctively trying to thrust upward to get /more/, willingly drowning in pleasure.
Dazai had decided to show him what the vibrating tongue ring felt like, and the sensation of it buzzing lightly against the base of his
Dazai had decided to show him what the vibrating tongue ring felt like, and the sensation of it buzzing lightly against the base of his
cock is like fiery heaven. It’s hot and wet and /perfect/ in Dazai’s mouth, being swallowed down with such ease that he’d be jealous of his skills if he weren’t benefitting it.
/Fuck/, having a mouth on his dick is /so/ good. The tightness of his lips, the hot dripping saliva,
/Fuck/, having a mouth on his dick is /so/ good. The tightness of his lips, the hot dripping saliva,
the slip and slide of his tongue. He doesn’t even have /words/, all he knows is that he wants this to last forever, it feels /so/ good he doesn’t even want to come. He just wants to be buried in his throat /forever/, his newest addiction.
As if sensing Chuuya is focusing too
As if sensing Chuuya is focusing too
much on /one/ aspect of what’s being done to him, Dazai’s fingers spread inside him, stretching him so far that he jerks, keening.
It’s the /best/ kind of pleasure-pain, the most satisfying kind, pushing his body to the limits and /knowing/ he can take it. And if that weren’t
It’s the /best/ kind of pleasure-pain, the most satisfying kind, pushing his body to the limits and /knowing/ he can take it. And if that weren’t
enough on its own—
The little rubber contraption on Dazai’s finger— which /looked/ weird and entirely unappealing, a dull purple color and covered with ridges— is /also/ buzzing, pressed against his most sensitive spots.
He quickly changed his mind on it being /unappealing/ as
The little rubber contraption on Dazai’s finger— which /looked/ weird and entirely unappealing, a dull purple color and covered with ridges— is /also/ buzzing, pressed against his most sensitive spots.
He quickly changed his mind on it being /unappealing/ as
soon as he felt the vibrations /inside him/.
It feels like being struck by lightning, sending bolts of electricity shattering down his nerves and sparking flames inside him. Each time Dazai’s finger slides even /near/ his spot— he’s a fucking /tease/ and barely lets him enjoy
It feels like being struck by lightning, sending bolts of electricity shattering down his nerves and sparking flames inside him. Each time Dazai’s finger slides even /near/ his spot— he’s a fucking /tease/ and barely lets him enjoy
the flood of pleasure before he’s moving his fingers away again—it feels like molten lava is being poured straight into his veins.
It rockets him close to the edge in record time, and he /would/ be embarrassed except he can’t think, can’t /feel/ past the driving need for /more/.
It rockets him close to the edge in record time, and he /would/ be embarrassed except he can’t think, can’t /feel/ past the driving need for /more/.
He’s reduced to frantic grinding of his hips, trying to get his cock /deeper/, those fingers curled harder inside him. It doesn’t matter, he just needs it /harder/.
And as good as it feels, he wants—
He /needs/—
“Fuck me,” he demands, voice breathy and broken with pleasure.
And as good as it feels, he wants—
He /needs/—
“Fuck me,” he demands, voice breathy and broken with pleasure.
Agonizingly slowly, Dazai pulls off him. His tongue slides over him, buzzing against the throbbing vein along the underside and earning himself a sob of pleasure.
The touch of cold air is nearly unbearable, but it’s offset by the heat boiling in his veins.
With one last,
The touch of cold air is nearly unbearable, but it’s offset by the heat boiling in his veins.
With one last,
indulgent swipe of his tongue over the very tip—which makes Chuuya’s eyes cross and his mouth drop open on a loud moan— Dazai pulls off with a pop.
The grin on his face is wicked, especially with how red and wet his lips are. “Baby,” he croons, and the thought of how /adorable/
The grin on his face is wicked, especially with how red and wet his lips are. “Baby,” he croons, and the thought of how /adorable/
he sounds with the slight slur as a result of the tongue jewelry makes a rush of affection bloom somewhere in his chest. “You’re going to need more than three for /that/. Can you take it?”
Yes, yes, he can take /anything/ Dazai gives him, he can take it all and ask for /more/—
Yes, yes, he can take /anything/ Dazai gives him, he can take it all and ask for /more/—
He nods and nods, spreading his thighs as much as he can to show how eager he is. With Dazai’s other hand pinning his hips in place, he can’t move /much/ but—
It earns him a wider smile, a hint of pride hidden in the corners.
“Good boy,” Dazai murmurs, dropping a kiss onto the
It earns him a wider smile, a hint of pride hidden in the corners.
“Good boy,” Dazai murmurs, dropping a kiss onto the
straining tendon near the crease of his thigh. The buzzing tickles, enough to make Chuuya squirm.
He can’t imagine what the vibrator must feel like on his /tongue/. It probably tickles like hell.
The fingers inside him flex, drawing our slowly. Chuuya holds his breath until
He can’t imagine what the vibrator must feel like on his /tongue/. It probably tickles like hell.
The fingers inside him flex, drawing our slowly. Chuuya holds his breath until
he’s dizzy with it, stomach tightening as the fingers return again, this time with /four/ clustered together.
God, it’s /so/ much. He never realized how /empty/ he felt until he’s being filled up, overflowing. Can he even /take/ that many? It doesn’t hurt, it just—
(Dazai has
God, it’s /so/ much. He never realized how /empty/ he felt until he’s being filled up, overflowing. Can he even /take/ that many? It doesn’t hurt, it just—
(Dazai has
... concerns.
Because although Chuuya is taking his fingers well, better than he expected—
He doesn’t /relax/ into it. He fights for his pleasure, chasing and struggling for it instead of letting it happen to him. Every movement inside him is a /struggle/ because he’s tense,
Because although Chuuya is taking his fingers well, better than he expected—
He doesn’t /relax/ into it. He fights for his pleasure, chasing and struggling for it instead of letting it happen to him. Every movement inside him is a /struggle/ because he’s tense,
and his muscles don’t give in the way they should be.
He has no doubt that Chuuya is enjoying himself— the way his erection is leaking pre-cum against his stomach is evidence enough— but it could be /better/.)
“Breathe, baby,” Dazai says, voice hypnotic. It seeps into his
He has no doubt that Chuuya is enjoying himself— the way his erection is leaking pre-cum against his stomach is evidence enough— but it could be /better/.)
“Breathe, baby,” Dazai says, voice hypnotic. It seeps into his
bloodstream, wraps him up in a blanket of security. He takes a shuddering inhale on reflex, and another one when his lungs scream in relief.
“Relax,” Dazai continues, pressing wet, sucking kisses on the insides of his thighs and the base of his cock, making his way upwards
“Relax,” Dazai continues, pressing wet, sucking kisses on the insides of his thighs and the base of his cock, making his way upwards
until he can stick his tongue out and lightly press the vibrator just under the head of his cock. Chuuya’s eyes roll back in his head at the spike of pleasure, hips twitching up—
Dazai pulls back, blowing a breath of cool air over the tip of his cock. It’s /cold/, bringing him
Dazai pulls back, blowing a breath of cool air over the tip of his cock. It’s /cold/, bringing him
back to his senses a little bit.
“Relax,” Dazai tells him again, a little firmer. While his fingers haven’t stopped, they’re not pushing /in/ anymore, instead thrusting slowly and shallowly.
Shivering, Chuuya forces his body to relax. It takes a little concentration to focus
“Relax,” Dazai tells him again, a little firmer. While his fingers haven’t stopped, they’re not pushing /in/ anymore, instead thrusting slowly and shallowly.
Shivering, Chuuya forces his body to relax. It takes a little concentration to focus
enough to make his thighs stop tending up and his hips stop moving, but when he does—
“There you are,” Dazai purrs, licking a long, searing stripe up his cock. He swallows the head, and /fuck/, the way his eyes stay focused on Chuuya’s face, even with his mouth dropped open
“There you are,” Dazai purrs, licking a long, searing stripe up his cock. He swallows the head, and /fuck/, the way his eyes stay focused on Chuuya’s face, even with his mouth dropped open
and his chin wet with saliva, is /ridiculously/ hot.
It somehow heightens the sensations because Dazai /knows/ he feels good and now he can see it written all over his face and he’s drinking in the sight.
Dazai presses the vibrator to the very tip of his cock, buzzing against
It somehow heightens the sensations because Dazai /knows/ he feels good and now he can see it written all over his face and he’s drinking in the sight.
Dazai presses the vibrator to the very tip of his cock, buzzing against
the sensitive slit. At the same time, his fingers slide /that/ much deeper, vibrator glancing off the edge of his prostate—
And he’s gone. Fuck being relaxed, fuck being patient, he’s /so/ close, just a little more—
Since Dazai only has /one/ hand available to keep him pinned
And he’s gone. Fuck being relaxed, fuck being patient, he’s /so/ close, just a little more—
Since Dazai only has /one/ hand available to keep him pinned
in place, that means his /other/ leg is free to wrap around Dazai’s upper back and use it as leverage to rock between his fingers and his mouth.
Up into the hot, boiling pleasure of his mouth, wet constriction around the sensitive head that feels like heaven. Down onto his
Up into the hot, boiling pleasure of his mouth, wet constriction around the sensitive head that feels like heaven. Down onto his
fingers, feeling satisfyingly full and at his limit, his hunger /finally/ being sated, not feeling /empty/ but feeling broken open, carved out with pleasure.
Dazai looks vaguely impressed at his daring, but doesn’t try to /stop/ him from taking what he needs.
(Because he’s
Dazai looks vaguely impressed at his daring, but doesn’t try to /stop/ him from taking what he needs.
(Because he’s
already planning his.... /punishment/ for being such a brat and derailing Dazai’s plans.
He’s a firm believer in letting brats do what they want, and /then/ punishing them after. Thé look on their face when they realize they /didn’t/ get away with it is amusing and satisfying.)
He’s a firm believer in letting brats do what they want, and /then/ punishing them after. Thé look on their face when they realize they /didn’t/ get away with it is amusing and satisfying.)
Like this, it takes all too quickly for the pleasure to overwhelm Chuuya. There’s a part of him that wants to slow down and /savor/ it, but there’s a larger part that wants it to feel /better/, just a little more, he can slow down in a few moments, but it feels so good /now/—
By the time he realizes his orgasm is too close to stop, it’s already breaking over him like storm waves.
He barely manages to get out a mangled version of Dazai’s name as a warning before he’s arching underneath him and shuddering with his orgasm.
His cock jerks in his mouth
He barely manages to get out a mangled version of Dazai’s name as a warning before he’s arching underneath him and shuddering with his orgasm.
His cock jerks in his mouth
and it gets so much hotter and /wetter/ inside, and he can’t help but grind upwards, prolonging the ecstasy as long as he can, panting as he rides the waves out.
Dazai pulls off before he’s completely done, and lets his fingers slide out too. The complete lack of stimulation
Dazai pulls off before he’s completely done, and lets his fingers slide out too. The complete lack of stimulation
after so long of being /overwhelmed/ is almost painful,cold and cutting.
He squirms, trying to get any friction at all because he wasn’t /done/, and now he’s rapidly cooling down and coming back to himself instead of floating in the afterglow pleasantly.
Without looking at him,
He squirms, trying to get any friction at all because he wasn’t /done/, and now he’s rapidly cooling down and coming back to himself instead of floating in the afterglow pleasantly.
Without looking at him,
Dazai peels off the purple toy stuck on his finger. He throws it to the end of the bed, uncaring.
Chuuya opens his mouth to ask him why he /stopped/ but then Dazai is crawling /up/ his body, feline and predatory. His eyes are dark, dangerous in a way that doesn’t make Chuuya
Chuuya opens his mouth to ask him why he /stopped/ but then Dazai is crawling /up/ his body, feline and predatory. His eyes are dark, dangerous in a way that doesn’t make Chuuya
/scared/ but—
/Excited/, even though he /just/ came.
Still, the energy pouring off him is /foreboding/ and he almost looks mad, so Chuuya squirms again. “Sorry,” he mutters, figuring that Dazai didn’t /want/ him to finish in his mouth or something—
A hand catches him by the
/Excited/, even though he /just/ came.
Still, the energy pouring off him is /foreboding/ and he almost looks mad, so Chuuya squirms again. “Sorry,” he mutters, figuring that Dazai didn’t /want/ him to finish in his mouth or something—
A hand catches him by the
jaw, with his mouth still open. Dazai holds him there mercilessly, turning his chin so he’s looking up at him as he looms over him, powerful and dominating.
With a devilish glint in his eye, he opens his own mouth and Chuuya realizes /very/ quickly—
/He didn’t swallow/.
With a devilish glint in his eye, he opens his own mouth and Chuuya realizes /very/ quickly—
/He didn’t swallow/.
Eyes widening, Chuuya tries to twist away with a desperate, pleading noise. He doesn’t mind the thought of /Dazai’s/ cum in his mouth, but his /own/? It seems /wrong/.
Dazai is immovable though,one of his shins pinning his thigh to the bed and his fingers bruisingly tight on his
Dazai is immovable though,one of his shins pinning his thigh to the bed and his fingers bruisingly tight on his
face. It makes the insides of his cheeks grind almost painfully against his teeth.
All he can do is watch as a thick glob of cum slowly slides out of Dazai’s mouth and drops into his own.
His aim is surprisingly accurate, and /most/ of it lands on his tongue. The taste is
All he can do is watch as a thick glob of cum slowly slides out of Dazai’s mouth and drops into his own.
His aim is surprisingly accurate, and /most/ of it lands on his tongue. The taste is
bitter, musky, filling his entire mouth with the taste of himself.
He can /see/ Dazai move his tongue around in his mouth, collecting all the remaining cum into one pool. This one makes a wet noise when it falls into Chuuya’s mouth, making him grimace.
It feels /dirty/. Like
He can /see/ Dazai move his tongue around in his mouth, collecting all the remaining cum into one pool. This one makes a wet noise when it falls into Chuuya’s mouth, making him grimace.
It feels /dirty/. Like
one of those things you see on cheap porn sites—not that he’s been on a lot— and not something that happens in /real/ life.
The taste isn’t something he likes, and the texture is thick but—
Dazai’s eyes burning down at him, all-encompassing and dark, and the way his hand
The taste isn’t something he likes, and the texture is thick but—
Dazai’s eyes burning down at him, all-encompassing and dark, and the way his hand
shifts to cover his mouth with his palm, sealing his mouth closed, is /hot/.
“You will be,” Dazai promises sweetly, his smile growing more wicked. “Swallow.”
Chuuya doesn’t, staring up at him with wide eyes. He’s seeing a whole new side of Dazai, one that revels in filth and
“You will be,” Dazai promises sweetly, his smile growing more wicked. “Swallow.”
Chuuya doesn’t, staring up at him with wide eyes. He’s seeing a whole new side of Dazai, one that revels in filth and
sin. One that seems like the devil himself, come to wrap his forked tail and silver tongue around Chuuya until he can’t remember who he was /before/ Dazai got his hands on him.
Dazai arches an eyebrow. “Don’t make me cover your nose until you do as you’re told. You have to
Dazai arches an eyebrow. “Don’t make me cover your nose until you do as you’re told. You have to
breathe sometime, baby. I can wait you out.”
Chuuya doesn’t know if he gulps out of fear, excitement or /obedience/.
“Good boy,” Dazai purrs, satisfaction dripping from his voice. He moves his hand and replaces it with his mouth.
The way their lips slide against eachother,
Chuuya doesn’t know if he gulps out of fear, excitement or /obedience/.
“Good boy,” Dazai purrs, satisfaction dripping from his voice. He moves his hand and replaces it with his mouth.
The way their lips slide against eachother,
made slick by saliva and cum and the lube Dazai had accidentally smeared over his face with his hands—
It’s /filthy/.
“Come here,” Dazai murmurs into his mouth, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip and /pulling/ until the stinging stretch makes Chuuya whimper.
/Where/,
It’s /filthy/.
“Come here,” Dazai murmurs into his mouth, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip and /pulling/ until the stinging stretch makes Chuuya whimper.
/Where/,
Chuuya wants to ask but before he can—
The knot tying him to the headboard is undone with one sharp /yank/, and then Dazai’s fingers are hooking in the loops around his wrist.
He leans back, pulling him up at the same time until Chuuya is sitting up completely.
Then Dazai is
The knot tying him to the headboard is undone with one sharp /yank/, and then Dazai’s fingers are hooking in the loops around his wrist.
He leans back, pulling him up at the same time until Chuuya is sitting up completely.
Then Dazai is
sliding off the bed and dragging him with. It's awkward to shuffle around with just his knees and little else to balance with, and he's /confused/ because he can see the tent in Dazai's jeans, and he doesn't know where they're /going/--
With a few quick movements, Dazai pushes
With a few quick movements, Dazai pushes
him onto his back, head dangling over the edge of the bed.
"What are you--" Chuuya asks,huffing a little when Dazai tugs him even farther forward by the wrists, until the edge of the bed is just below the base of his neck. "I thought you were going to fuck me?"
Upside down like
"What are you--" Chuuya asks,huffing a little when Dazai tugs him even farther forward by the wrists, until the edge of the bed is just below the base of his neck. "I thought you were going to fuck me?"
Upside down like
this, Dazai looks even taller and /more/ intimidating, looming over him with a confident smirk. The rest of the world is blocked out, overshadowed by dark, tousled hair, the flash of white teeth and--
The bulge in his jeans, which is just /slightly/ above eye level now.
The bulge in his jeans, which is just /slightly/ above eye level now.
"Did I say that?"
Well, not /exactly/, but he /implied/ it so Chuuya has /right/ to be disappointed if that's not happening anymore.
"But I /do/ remember saying that brats don't get my cock."
Chuuya's response is cut off by the way Dazai reaches up to his own mouth, sticking
Well, not /exactly/, but he /implied/ it so Chuuya has /right/ to be disappointed if that's not happening anymore.
"But I /do/ remember saying that brats don't get my cock."
Chuuya's response is cut off by the way Dazai reaches up to his own mouth, sticking
his tongue out just slightly. The tongue jewelry-- a pill-shaped object that takes up a fair amount of his tongue and probably his mouth-- gets removed with a few twists of his hands. It gets discarded carelessly onto the nearby nightstand, to be taken care of later.
Dazai
Dazai
scrapes his fingers over his tongue-- (the tongue ring is /so/ ticklish, Dazai can barely stand it and taking it off is always a relief)-- before lowering his hand to Chuuya's mouth.
"Here's what we're going to do, baby," he says, pressing his fingers to his lips and smearing
"Here's what we're going to do, baby," he says, pressing his fingers to his lips and smearing
bitter saliva over them. “You’re going to open for me, and I’m going to fuck your pretty little face.”
Chuuya’s heart /leaps/ in his chest, heat flooding his face so quickly he feels dizzy with it. Oh god, okay.
Without conscious thought, his mouth opens. Dazai hooks his
Chuuya’s heart /leaps/ in his chest, heat flooding his face so quickly he feels dizzy with it. Oh god, okay.
Without conscious thought, his mouth opens. Dazai hooks his
thumb in his mouth, rubbing the pad over his bottom teeth indulgently. His skin tastes like a mix of bitter cum and thick artificial strawberry lube.
One-handed, Dazai unzips his jeans and pushes them a little farther down his hips. Chuuya gets an up-close view of the cut of
One-handed, Dazai unzips his jeans and pushes them a little farther down his hips. Chuuya gets an up-close view of the cut of
his hips and the happy trail radiating outwards into a neatly-trimmed bed of hair.
Then there’s a dick in his face, close enough that it’s /all/ he can see, radiating heat. Dazai slides closer, thighs on either side of his head and boxing him in.
Reaching down, Dazai slides
Then there’s a dick in his face, close enough that it’s /all/ he can see, radiating heat. Dazai slides closer, thighs on either side of his head and boxing him in.
Reaching down, Dazai slides
his thumb in between the loose wrappings around his wrist. Chuuya’s fingers wrap naturally around his forearm, thrilling at the hard muscle there.
“Remember what I told you the first time we did this?” Dazai asks, voice hypnotically dark. “Two taps if you need me to stop.”
“Remember what I told you the first time we did this?” Dazai asks, voice hypnotically dark. “Two taps if you need me to stop.”
He remembers, squeezing Dazai’s wrist to show he understands.
Dazai takes the fingers out of his mouth, trusting him to keep his jaw open wide as he wraps his hand around the base of his cock to guide himself in.
Despite himself, Chuuya tenses up a little bit when he feels
Dazai takes the fingers out of his mouth, trusting him to keep his jaw open wide as he wraps his hand around the base of his cock to guide himself in.
Despite himself, Chuuya tenses up a little bit when he feels
the head of his cock slide over his bottom lip. He’s only done this /once/, on his own terms, and while this is /exciting/, the complete lack of control is also a little frightening. What if he’s bad? What if Dazai doesn’t like it? What if he chokes again?
“Relax, baby,” Dazai
“Relax, baby,” Dazai
says, stroking the head over his tongue. “I won’t hurt you. All you have to do is lay there, and let me do all the work.”
Chuuya takes a deeper breath, willing his body to relax. The only point of tension he keeps is his fingers wrapped tightly around around Dazai’s wrist, a
Chuuya takes a deeper breath, willing his body to relax. The only point of tension he keeps is his fingers wrapped tightly around around Dazai’s wrist, a
grounding point. How firm and steady he is under his hand is reassuring.
“There you are,” Dazai croons at him, pushing a little deeper. “So perfect and pretty for me.”
Heat burns in Chuuya’s face. He closes his eyes, glad Dazai can’t see his expression anymore, and sinks into
“There you are,” Dazai croons at him, pushing a little deeper. “So perfect and pretty for me.”
Heat burns in Chuuya’s face. He closes his eyes, glad Dazai can’t see his expression anymore, and sinks into
the feeling.
Each time Dazai pushes in, he slides a little deeper. Slowly making his way into the back of his throat, pausing there and murmuring to him soothingly when Chuuya tenses up instinctively. His free hand comes to his throat, gentle fingertips swirling soothing
Each time Dazai pushes in, he slides a little deeper. Slowly making his way into the back of his throat, pausing there and murmuring to him soothingly when Chuuya tenses up instinctively. His free hand comes to his throat, gentle fingertips swirling soothing
patterns over his skin.
Chuuya shivers, goes limp. Dazai is so hot, a furnace of warmth in front of his face and pulsing in his mouth, so effortlessly controlling that it just feels natural to give into him.
“You like my hands on your neck, don’t you?” Dazai asks. His voice
Chuuya shivers, goes limp. Dazai is so hot, a furnace of warmth in front of his face and pulsing in his mouth, so effortlessly controlling that it just feels natural to give into him.
“You like my hands on your neck, don’t you?” Dazai asks. His voice
is like cotton-edged silk, wrapping Chuuya up in hazy softness. He feels like he’s spiraling, almost, falling deeper into a feeling that’s too thick to name. Dazai’s voice is the only thing that tethers him to reality.
His fingers twitch around his wrist, his only sign of
His fingers twitch around his wrist, his only sign of
confirmation, curling a little tighter. It’s a little harder to breathe, not only because Dazai is rocking against the back of his tongue, but also because the air in the room feels soupy and thick.
(It takes a little work to get his fingers in the right places with how they’re
(It takes a little work to get his fingers in the right places with how they’re
positioned, but Dazai manages it eventually. His fingers press over the pulse points on either side of his neck, applying pressure until he can feel the blood struggling to pump past the compression.)
Chuuya /does/ like his hands on his neck. It feels warm, feels /safe/, feels
Chuuya /does/ like his hands on his neck. It feels warm, feels /safe/, feels
like being caught and held, his entire being held securely in the palm of Dazai’s hand.
Feels like he doesn’t need to /think/ anymore, he just needs to do what Dazai says.
Impossibly, he relaxes even more, the last of the tension disappearing from his neck and spine. His head
Feels like he doesn’t need to /think/ anymore, he just needs to do what Dazai says.
Impossibly, he relaxes even more, the last of the tension disappearing from his neck and spine. His head
sinks into the mattress further, hanging limp off the edge.
His head is beginning to spin pleasantly, stuffed full with cotton. Dazai pulls back regularly to let him breathe and his lungs feel full, but lightheadedness is beginning to swallow him whole.
“Yeah, I know you do,”
His head is beginning to spin pleasantly, stuffed full with cotton. Dazai pulls back regularly to let him breathe and his lungs feel full, but lightheadedness is beginning to swallow him whole.
“Yeah, I know you do,”
Dazai muses, pressing forward until the head of his cock is almost touching the back of his throat. His fingers lighten on his throat for a few moments before pressing down again. “Swallow for me, baby.”
Obeying is instinctive at this point, body reacting before Chuuya even
Obeying is instinctive at this point, body reacting before Chuuya even
has a chance to think about it.
Dazai slides down his throat. Not that far, but enough that there’s pressure, and barely-there panic begins to swirl when his airway is cut off.
His gag reflex is there, but it feels very far away and is easily suppressed as Chuuya focused on
Dazai slides down his throat. Not that far, but enough that there’s pressure, and barely-there panic begins to swirl when his airway is cut off.
His gag reflex is there, but it feels very far away and is easily suppressed as Chuuya focused on
trying to draw breath in through his nose.
“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” Dazai says, husky voice adding to the spinning of his head. “Doing /so/ well for me, making me feel so good.”
Chuuya /likes/ that, likes that he’s being good, likes making him feel good. Pride
“You’re doing so good for me, baby,” Dazai says, husky voice adding to the spinning of his head. “Doing /so/ well for me, making me feel so good.”
Chuuya /likes/ that, likes that he’s being good, likes making him feel good. Pride
swirls in his belly, adds to the overload of sensations. Everything feels centered in his head, like the rest of his body is so far away, thick and fuzzy.
Just when his head feels like it’s about to explode, pressure building and building between the cock in his throat and the
Just when his head feels like it’s about to explode, pressure building and building between the cock in his throat and the
hand around his throat, Dazai pulls back.
The rush of air back into his lungs feels like fire, spark to gasoline.
Steadily Dazai builds a rhythm. He rocks slowly into his mouth, pressing deeper and deeper as Chuuya shows no resistance. The fingers over his pulse are tight,
The rush of air back into his lungs feels like fire, spark to gasoline.
Steadily Dazai builds a rhythm. He rocks slowly into his mouth, pressing deeper and deeper as Chuuya shows no resistance. The fingers over his pulse are tight,
only letting up when his cock is deep in his throat.
Between the two sensations, Chuuya feels like he’s floating away. Everything feels so visceral and yet overwhelmingly close, filling his head until it’s almost spinning too fast to keep up with.
Mindlessly, he rubs his
Between the two sensations, Chuuya feels like he’s floating away. Everything feels so visceral and yet overwhelmingly close, filling his head until it’s almost spinning too fast to keep up with.
Mindlessly, he rubs his
fingertips over Dazai’s wrist, feeling soothed and grounded by the sensation of hard muscle under his fingers.
Above him, he can hear Dazai saying /something/ but his ears feel stuffed with cotton. There’s a rushing noise that drowns out everything, turns it all to mush and
Above him, he can hear Dazai saying /something/ but his ears feel stuffed with cotton. There’s a rushing noise that drowns out everything, turns it all to mush and
white noise.
Even though he’s not directly getting any pleasure out of this, and /logically/ it should feel a little uncomfortable—
He feels high on it, lost in a sea of sensation with only Dazai as his grounding point in the storm.
Dazai’s hand tightens on his throat, palm
Even though he’s not directly getting any pleasure out of this, and /logically/ it should feel a little uncomfortable—
He feels high on it, lost in a sea of sensation with only Dazai as his grounding point in the storm.
Dazai’s hand tightens on his throat, palm
coming down to cover almost his entire neck. He’s not /choking/ him, he’s just massaging over the length of it, applying light pressure over the bulge of his cock in his throat.
Dazai’s belly is /almost/ touching his chin, nearly the entirety of his cock in his mouth and Chuuya
Dazai’s belly is /almost/ touching his chin, nearly the entirety of his cock in his mouth and Chuuya
feels on top of the /world/. He’s the one getting used, but it feels /fantastic/ to be able to give Dazai what he needs, what he /wants/, to be good and to /feel/ good.
It feels good to be wanted. That’s all Chuuya’s ever wanted.
He swallows roughly, feeling Dazai twitch in
It feels good to be wanted. That’s all Chuuya’s ever wanted.
He swallows roughly, feeling Dazai twitch in
his throat. He feels impossibly hard, pulsing, so hot he feels searing on his tongue.
There’s a bunch of noise above him, something that might be a groan of Chuuya’s name, rough compliments, a /warning/—
Dazai buries himself deeper, so much that Chuuya, even so far from his
There’s a bunch of noise above him, something that might be a groan of Chuuya’s name, rough compliments, a /warning/—
Dazai buries himself deeper, so much that Chuuya, even so far from his
body, involuntarily tenses up. His throat clenches, instinctively fighting against the pressure—
Dazai comes directly down his throat. He can feel him twitching in waves, and Chuuya swallows as best he can, lungs beginning to ache for air. His entire body is tingling.
Dazai comes directly down his throat. He can feel him twitching in waves, and Chuuya swallows as best he can, lungs beginning to ache for air. His entire body is tingling.
By the time Dazai is softening and beginning to slide out, Chuuya feels like he might pass out. His head feels so full, and sensation bombards him in pulses, turning sharp for a moment before fading away again, only to return a moment later.
Saliva pools in his mouth, drips
Saliva pools in his mouth, drips
down his face slowly. The lube smeared over his cheeks from earlier is drying wet and cold. His head and neck feel warm, but the lower half of his body is beginning to cool down. His chest screams for air, and his heart is throbbing so hard it almost hurts.
When Dazai pulls
When Dazai pulls
out, it’s a slow process. First his hips, moving back to give him breathing room. Then his hand, relaxing on his neck and turning back into the soothing strokes from earlier.
He lets Chuuya adjust slowly to the lack of pressure and sensation, instead of depriving him altogether.
He lets Chuuya adjust slowly to the lack of pressure and sensation, instead of depriving him altogether.
When his softening cock slips out of his mouth completely, Chuuya almost feels /empty/. His jaw aches from being open so wide for so long, but without Dazai pressing down on him, into him, all heat and fire and hardness—
It makes him feel disconnected, /almost/ in a bad way. Not
It makes him feel disconnected, /almost/ in a bad way. Not
quite, and he knows he’ll adjust in a few moments but—
Before, he felt like he was floating. Now it feels like the strings connecting him to earth are being slowly cut, and he might get lost in the wind.
A hand slides under the back of his head, lifting him up. His hands are
Before, he felt like he was floating. Now it feels like the strings connecting him to earth are being slowly cut, and he might get lost in the wind.
A hand slides under the back of his head, lifting him up. His hands are
dropped onto his chest, and he’s completely pliant as Dazai pushes him into a sitting position.
He keeps his eyes shut, focusing on the way his body is slowly coming back into feeling.
“Chuuya?”
He tries to make a noise to show he’s heard, but his voice is rough and nearly
He keeps his eyes shut, focusing on the way his body is slowly coming back into feeling.
“Chuuya?”
He tries to make a noise to show he’s heard, but his voice is rough and nearly
gone from his throat being fucked.
Gentle fingertips grab his chin, tilting his head up. His lashes flutter, feeling heavy and uncoordinated, but he /wants/ to look. Wants to see Dazai.
His vision is slightly blurry, but Dazai is right there, not even a meter away. The
Gentle fingertips grab his chin, tilting his head up. His lashes flutter, feeling heavy and uncoordinated, but he /wants/ to look. Wants to see Dazai.
His vision is slightly blurry, but Dazai is right there, not even a meter away. The
expression on his face might’ve been concern, but it clears up when he sees the hazy, unfocused look in his eyes and the dazed expression on his face.
“Oh,” Dazai says, like something just occurred to him, “Alright. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
Chuuya smiles at him, leaning
“Oh,” Dazai says, like something just occurred to him, “Alright. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
Chuuya smiles at him, leaning
into his touch. He feels so good.
Dazai crawls onto the bed, sitting down next to him and pulling him into his lap. Chuuya doesn’t fight, but he doesn’t exactly help either, because his limbs feel like jello.
Like always, Dazai radiates warmth and Chuuya settles into it with a
Dazai crawls onto the bed, sitting down next to him and pulling him into his lap. Chuuya doesn’t fight, but he doesn’t exactly help either, because his limbs feel like jello.
Like always, Dazai radiates warmth and Chuuya settles into it with a
content sigh. His nose ends up tucked into the crook of Dazai’s neck, feeling sheltered underneath the strong line of his chin. Feeling /safe/.
His wrists get untied slowly. Dazai takes the time to rub over the indented skin that’s revealed, encouraging the return of blood flow.
His wrists get untied slowly. Dazai takes the time to rub over the indented skin that’s revealed, encouraging the return of blood flow.
The tie was never very tight to begin with, but he was struggling quite a bit in the beginning, and at the end he wasn’t thinking about anything else other than the overwhelming fuzziness he felt.
When he’s done, Dazai tosses the rope to join the discarded toy at the end of the
When he’s done, Dazai tosses the rope to join the discarded toy at the end of the
bed. Interlacing their fingers, he brings his wrist to his mouth and starts to press soft kisses over the fragile bone. He’s heartbreakingly gentle, murmuring compliments into his skin as he inspects the marks left on him.
“Beautiful.”
“Such a good boy.”
“So perfect.”
“Beautiful.”
“Such a good boy.”
“So perfect.”
Each murmured word is like a layer of warmth and comfort, wrapping around Chuuya until he feels swaddled in protection.
When Dazai presses a kiss to his palm, he curls his fingers to stroke them along his cheeks, quietly reverent. He can feel the responding smile, the way Dazai
When Dazai presses a kiss to his palm, he curls his fingers to stroke them along his cheeks, quietly reverent. He can feel the responding smile, the way Dazai
nuzzles his cheek into his hand.
After how /intense/ the sex felt, this quiet moment of comfort, recovery and affection is the perfect way to come back down.
Chuuya makes a disgruntled noise when Dazai shifts him, clinging weakly. Smiling, Dazai kisses his temple and keeps
After how /intense/ the sex felt, this quiet moment of comfort, recovery and affection is the perfect way to come back down.
Chuuya makes a disgruntled noise when Dazai shifts him, clinging weakly. Smiling, Dazai kisses his temple and keeps
moving him until he’s straddling his lap and facing him, legs thrown over each side of his hips.
Chuuya /tries/ to snuggle back up but Dazai pushes him gently but firmly away, getting enough space between them so he can look at him properly. Irritable and needy, Chuuya glowers
Chuuya /tries/ to snuggle back up but Dazai pushes him gently but firmly away, getting enough space between them so he can look at him properly. Irritable and needy, Chuuya glowers
at him weakly.
“Does your throat hurt?” Dazai asks softly, gentle fingertips tipping his chin up and to the side so he can inspect his neck.
The spots where his fingers were digging in are a little sore, and his throat does ache, but not in a /painful/, sharp way. More like
“Does your throat hurt?” Dazai asks softly, gentle fingertips tipping his chin up and to the side so he can inspect his neck.
The spots where his fingers were digging in are a little sore, and his throat does ache, but not in a /painful/, sharp way. More like
waking up in the morning with a sore throat from not drinking water all day yesterday. “Not really,” he croaks, wincing a little at his broken his voice sounds.
Dazai looks contemplative. “You’ll probably bruise a little, but I think you’ll be fine. Let me know if it starts to
Dazai looks contemplative. “You’ll probably bruise a little, but I think you’ll be fine. Let me know if it starts to
hurt, or if you have trouble swallowing.”
Chuuya nods absently, distracted by how pleasing the idea of fingerprint bruises on his throat is.
“Time to clean you up,” Dazai announces, tipping him backwards until his back hits the mattress. He slides out from underneath him,
Chuuya nods absently, distracted by how pleasing the idea of fingerprint bruises on his throat is.
“Time to clean you up,” Dazai announces, tipping him backwards until his back hits the mattress. He slides out from underneath him,
heading to the bathroom.
Rolling over, Chuuya pouts into the blanket. Stupid Dazai, always thinking about being clean when he /should/ be thinking about cuddling him until he falls asleep. He’s /cold/ and he wants to be held.
Clean up is quick and gentle, a warm washcloth
Rolling over, Chuuya pouts into the blanket. Stupid Dazai, always thinking about being clean when he /should/ be thinking about cuddling him until he falls asleep. He’s /cold/ and he wants to be held.
Clean up is quick and gentle, a warm washcloth
rubbed over him until all the sticky lube and fluids are wiped away. The toys are tossed into the bathroom sink to be cleaned later.
While Dazai strips out of his jeans, Chuuya crawls underneath the blankets and pats the spot next to him insistently. He uses his most convincing
While Dazai strips out of his jeans, Chuuya crawls underneath the blankets and pats the spot next to him insistently. He uses his most convincing
pout to coax him into hurrying up.
Dazai just smiles at him.
By the time he’s turned off all the lights and got changed, Chuuya is almost grumpy, covering his frown with the blanket as he glares at Dazai.
That doesn’t stop him from sinking into Dazai’s arms when he slides
Dazai just smiles at him.
By the time he’s turned off all the lights and got changed, Chuuya is almost grumpy, covering his frown with the blanket as he glares at Dazai.
That doesn’t stop him from sinking into Dazai’s arms when he slides
into bed, sighing pleasantly. Dazai’s chest is warm and comfortable underneath his head, and his legs part for him when Chuuya pushes his thigh between them, curling up as close as he can.
It’s been a long, eventful, exciting day, feom the aquarium visit to getting his world
It’s been a long, eventful, exciting day, feom the aquarium visit to getting his world
rocked just a few minutes ago.
Sleep is too tempting to ignore, especially when Dazai presses a kiss to the top of his head and then tucks him under his chin.
Safe and warm and held, Chuuya is asleep within minutes.
——— +
Sleep is too tempting to ignore, especially when Dazai presses a kiss to the top of his head and then tucks him under his chin.
Safe and warm and held, Chuuya is asleep within minutes.
——— +
There’s too much candy in the bag. Way too much.
When Ranpo ordered it, the girl manning the register gave him an unsubtle wink, and poured much more than he asked for into the bag.
She was probably trying to flirt with him—he realized that 10 minutes after he’d already left
When Ranpo ordered it, the girl manning the register gave him an unsubtle wink, and poured much more than he asked for into the bag.
She was probably trying to flirt with him—he realized that 10 minutes after he’d already left
the store— and he appreciates free candy but...
Now there’s too much and he doesn’t know what to do with it. He /always/orders a kilogram of Puchao gummy candies. It lasts him exactly a week, and he always buys more on Tuesdays.
But now there’s too much. This will last him
Now there’s too much and he doesn’t know what to do with it. He /always/orders a kilogram of Puchao gummy candies. It lasts him exactly a week, and he always buys more on Tuesdays.
But now there’s too much. This will last him
at least /nine/ days. Then he’ll either be out of one of his favorite candies for almost a week, or he’ll have to go on a /different/ day.
He hates that idea. Tuesday is candy day. That’s the day the shop is the least busy, and they just restocked the candy he buys. And if he
He hates that idea. Tuesday is candy day. That’s the day the shop is the least busy, and they just restocked the candy he buys. And if he
changes up the day, then he has to /keep/ going on that day.
He could buy more on Tuesday like regular, but that doesn’t solve the problem of what to do with all this extra candy.
She should’ve just given him the candy he ordered. He hates his routine and schedule being thrown
He could buy more on Tuesday like regular, but that doesn’t solve the problem of what to do with all this extra candy.
She should’ve just given him the candy he ordered. He hates his routine and schedule being thrown
off.
“Why are you glaring at your candy?”
Ranpo sighs, pushing around one of the strawberry flavored pieces around on his desk. There’s a small pile of them, all the extras he was given. “The cashier girl gave me too much.”
Kunikida sounds exasperated. “Isn’t that a good
“Why are you glaring at your candy?”
Ranpo sighs, pushing around one of the strawberry flavored pieces around on his desk. There’s a small pile of them, all the extras he was given. “The cashier girl gave me too much.”
Kunikida sounds exasperated. “Isn’t that a good
thing? Free candy. God knows you already spend most of your salary on it, maybe this will keep you out of the poor house.”
For someone who loathes having /his/ schedule thrown off, Kunikida is never very sympathetic when Ranpo’s gets derailed.
He glowers at him. “No.”
Lately,
For someone who loathes having /his/ schedule thrown off, Kunikida is never very sympathetic when Ranpo’s gets derailed.
He glowers at him. “No.”
Lately,
Kunikida has been in such a foul mood that even Ranpo has noticed. He’s constantly glaring at things, using his office supplies with too much force, snapping at their coworkers.
Ranpo doesn’t know what his problem is and doesn’t much care, but he better not take his anger out
Ranpo doesn’t know what his problem is and doesn’t much care, but he better not take his anger out
on him, or Ranpo will remind him just who the better martial artist is.
Stapling a few pieces of paper together by slamming his fist down on his stapler, Kunikida says, “Why don’t you throw away the extras then?”
Ranpo gathers his candy back into a pile, letting his silence
Stapling a few pieces of paper together by slamming his fist down on his stapler, Kunikida says, “Why don’t you throw away the extras then?”
Ranpo gathers his candy back into a pile, letting his silence
speak for him. What kind of imbecile throws away /candy/?
"Well," Kunikida grumbles, putting the stapled group of papers into a file, "when you've figured out your candy problem, I could use your opinion on something."
Lovely. Ranpo has lots of opinions on all sorts of things,
"Well," Kunikida grumbles, putting the stapled group of papers into a file, "when you've figured out your candy problem, I could use your opinion on something."
Lovely. Ranpo has lots of opinions on all sorts of things,
and he could use a distraction. "What do you need?"
The case gets put into Kunikida's extensive files, his alphabetized and chronologically ordered record of almost every case he's ever been on. Ranpo thinks it's excessive; why doesn't he just remember the details?
"The crime
The case gets put into Kunikida's extensive files, his alphabetized and chronologically ordered record of almost every case he's ever been on. Ranpo thinks it's excessive; why doesn't he just remember the details?
"The crime
rates have gone up in the last couple weeks. There's been more calls than ever-- but a lot of the victims involved aren't talking. It makes it such a pain to solve the crime itself. I was wondering what you thought of it."
Oh, well that's easy. Gang rivalry. No one wants to get
Oh, well that's easy. Gang rivalry. No one wants to get
on the bad side of the local gangs, /especially/ when said gangs are fighting for dominance. Even calling the police, or a detective agency, can land you permanently on the shit list of the mafia, if not earn yourself more permanent consequenes.
In fact, most of this new spike
In fact, most of this new spike
in crimes is either due to the gangs themselves,/or/ because they're too busy infighting that they aren't policing themselves anymore.
Ranpo pops a candy in his mouth, sucking on it contemplatively. Sometimes it's difficult to work with Kunikida. He's very much of the ideal that
Ranpo pops a candy in his mouth, sucking on it contemplatively. Sometimes it's difficult to work with Kunikida. He's very much of the ideal that
all crimes are bad and therefore all criminals need to be punished.
Personally, Ranpo thinks of it in a more personal way. He lived on the streets for almost three years after his parents died, and he's seen firsthand how the justice system can utterly fail people. He's seen
Personally, Ranpo thinks of it in a more personal way. He lived on the streets for almost three years after his parents died, and he's seen firsthand how the justice system can utterly fail people. He's seen
kids go to the police for help, only to be arrested themselves or treated like liars. He's seen innocent people treated like criminals themselves, just for being down on their luck and in bad situations.
His time on the streets taught him a few things. The police might /claim/
His time on the streets taught him a few things. The police might /claim/
that they uphold law and order, and it's because of /them/ that society doesn't collapse into lawless ruthlessness--
But the truth is, generally, it's the criminals that keep each other in check. It's the top mafia dogs that uphold a certain code of honor, that keep the smaller,
But the truth is, generally, it's the criminals that keep each other in check. It's the top mafia dogs that uphold a certain code of honor, that keep the smaller,
lesser known people in line.
/Some/ people are outright vicious, but a decent amount of criminals just happened to fall into the lifestyle.
"Have you tried talking to that hacker kid of yours?" Ranpo hedges, leaning back in his chair.
Kunikida makes a face. "Yes, but he's
/Some/ people are outright vicious, but a decent amount of criminals just happened to fall into the lifestyle.
"Have you tried talking to that hacker kid of yours?" Ranpo hedges, leaning back in his chair.
Kunikida makes a face. "Yes, but he's
been distracted lately,off his game.Rokuzou /said/ he'd look into it, but we all know that's code for he's not going to do it."
Yeah, that's fair. Even Ranpo's been feeling antsy with all the tension on the streets lately, and he's not even plugged into the information flow /or/
Yeah, that's fair. Even Ranpo's been feeling antsy with all the tension on the streets lately, and he's not even plugged into the information flow /or/
particularly affected by whatever fighting is on the streets. He knows it has something to do with the Russians, but that's about it.
For someone like Rokuzou, who's life and business relies on being valuable to /all/ sides of the war, it's probably hard to decide what
For someone like Rokuzou, who's life and business relies on being valuable to /all/ sides of the war, it's probably hard to decide what
information is safe to give someone like Kunikida, who's job is to literally put people like him behind bars.
"Probably has something to do with that Dazai asshole," Kunikida mutters, slamming his desk drawer shut. "He's always causing trouble."
Ranpo snickers, kicking his feet
"Probably has something to do with that Dazai asshole," Kunikida mutters, slamming his desk drawer shut. "He's always causing trouble."
Ranpo snickers, kicking his feet
up. Kunikida's irritation with Dazai is hilarious to him. The man is /obsessed/ with putting Dazai behind bars, and somehow everything that happens in the underground world is always connected back to Dazai for him.
Ranpo isn't unaware of Dazai's sordid past-- the streets are
Ranpo isn't unaware of Dazai's sordid past-- the streets are
rampant with rumors about the Demon Prodigy-- but it's in the /past/, and all of those things happened when Dazai was little more than a child himself. Kids made to fight for their lives will spill blood without hesitation.
These days, Dazai is more...
The crow that follows the
These days, Dazai is more...
The crow that follows the
wolf pack. A bad omen, and a bearer of bad news--
But rarely the source of the problem himself. And since Kunikida is so focused on the shadow cast by his wings, he often misses the true predator hunting underneath.
But it's not Ranpo's job to keep Kunikida on track. If he
But rarely the source of the problem himself. And since Kunikida is so focused on the shadow cast by his wings, he often misses the true predator hunting underneath.
But it's not Ranpo's job to keep Kunikida on track. If he
wants to obsess over the guy, go ahead. He's the one missing out on all the other cases.
Ranpo couldn't care less, to be honest. He became a detective because it was /interesting/ and to make sure the people close to him weren't taken advantage of, not because he's sitting on
Ranpo couldn't care less, to be honest. He became a detective because it was /interesting/ and to make sure the people close to him weren't taken advantage of, not because he's sitting on
some moral high ground.
If he sees a case, or a particularly difficult one comes to the Agency, he'll solve it, but other than that, he doesn't care.
He'd much rather spend his days eating candy.
-------- +
Chuuya has come to the conclusion that he /hates/ Dazai.
If he sees a case, or a particularly difficult one comes to the Agency, he'll solve it, but other than that, he doesn't care.
He'd much rather spend his days eating candy.
-------- +
Chuuya has come to the conclusion that he /hates/ Dazai.
It all started with a perfectly innocent conversation this morning when they woke up. A conversation he now /regrets/, knowing what he does now, but he was /innocent/ back then. He didn't know the /trap/ he was walking into.
He was sitting on the bathroom counter, carefully
He was sitting on the bathroom counter, carefully
applying some eyeliner and eyeshadow as Dazai washed his hair in the sink. Apparently, he's /very/ insistent about not taking a shower where Chuuya can see.
A little hurtful, but Chuuya is trying to be understanding about it.
"You know," Chuuya starts, closing one eye to make
A little hurtful, but Chuuya is trying to be understanding about it.
"You know," Chuuya starts, closing one eye to make
sure his wing is perfect, "It's so unfair that you last longer in bed than I do. Makes me feel like there's something /wrong/ with me."
Dazai shuts off the faucet, leaning his elbows on the counter. He lifts his face to grin at Chuuya through the mirror, and /god/, the sight of
Dazai shuts off the faucet, leaning his elbows on the counter. He lifts his face to grin at Chuuya through the mirror, and /god/, the sight of
his dark, curly hair hanging over his eyes and dripping water down his face makes Chuuya's heart throb in his chest.
"Baby, that just comes from experience."
Chuuya makes a face in the mirror. He /knows/, but it's still embarrassing for him to be going off like a rocket after
"Baby, that just comes from experience."
Chuuya makes a face in the mirror. He /knows/, but it's still embarrassing for him to be going off like a rocket after
being touched for like...ten minutes. He /knows/ he's still a virgin-- despite his best efforts-- but it still sucks being reminded of it, especially when Dazai is so 'experienced' in comparison.
"But," Dazai continues, grabbing a towel to roughly rub the excess moisture out of
"But," Dazai continues, grabbing a towel to roughly rub the excess moisture out of
his hair. He's yet to put on a shirt, and the sight of his biceps and chest flexing with each movement is criminally distracting. "I have a way to help you with that, if you want."
Chuuya squints at him, a little suspicious, but--
Dazai's never done anything he didn't /like/
Chuuya squints at him, a little suspicious, but--
Dazai's never done anything he didn't /like/
before, and he's always made sure to give him an out if he /didn't/ like what Dazai was doing to him, so....
He decides to trust him. "Sure."
Dazai smiles at him secretively, and leaves the bathroom.
Chuuya watches him go in slight confusion, but chooses to finish doing his
He decides to trust him. "Sure."
Dazai smiles at him secretively, and leaves the bathroom.
Chuuya watches him go in slight confusion, but chooses to finish doing his
makeup before following him.
Which is good, because as soon as he /leaves/, he's being snatched up, dumped on the bed and having the /life/ sucked out of his cock as Dazai fucks him with two fingers.
It's rougher than Dazai's been with him so far, quicker, and going from /no/
Which is good, because as soon as he /leaves/, he's being snatched up, dumped on the bed and having the /life/ sucked out of his cock as Dazai fucks him with two fingers.
It's rougher than Dazai's been with him so far, quicker, and going from /no/
sensation to being overloaded makes him approach the edge far quicker than he'd like--
And for a moment, for a long, blissful moment, Chuuya thinks that Dazai's solution is just /more/ sex. More experience to solve his problem, he's just going to make him come over and over
And for a moment, for a long, blissful moment, Chuuya thinks that Dazai's solution is just /more/ sex. More experience to solve his problem, he's just going to make him come over and over
again until he lasts longer.
But no.
/Just/ when Chuuya is shuddering underneath him, groaning out a mangled version of his name and /reaching/ for the edge--
Dazai pulls off completely and Chuuya nearly /cries/.
"Wait, please," he whines, "I wanna--"
"I /know/ you want to,
But no.
/Just/ when Chuuya is shuddering underneath him, groaning out a mangled version of his name and /reaching/ for the edge--
Dazai pulls off completely and Chuuya nearly /cries/.
"Wait, please," he whines, "I wanna--"
"I /know/ you want to,
baby," Dazai tells him, reaching into the drawer of the nightstand to pull out something, "But you're not going to come until I say you can."
Heat pulses through Chuuya at the words,and he squirms, one hand sliding down his body to take himself in hand--
With one quick movement
Heat pulses through Chuuya at the words,and he squirms, one hand sliding down his body to take himself in hand--
With one quick movement
his hand is pinned to his side and Chuuya is forced to wait as his body cools down without stimulation.
He glares at Dazai, but all he gets is a sweetly smug smile in return.
Fine, he can handle this. Pleasure is still pleasure anyways, and while it's /frustrating/ that he
He glares at Dazai, but all he gets is a sweetly smug smile in return.
Fine, he can handle this. Pleasure is still pleasure anyways, and while it's /frustrating/ that he
doesn't get to orgasm, that's /fine/. He doesn't /need/ it.
(He does need it. He needs it so fucking bad.)
Giving him one last smile, Dazai flips him over onto his stomach. The friction of the blankets against his cock makes him groan, but a hard hand on his hip keeps him from
(He does need it. He needs it so fucking bad.)
Giving him one last smile, Dazai flips him over onto his stomach. The friction of the blankets against his cock makes him groan, but a hard hand on his hip keeps him from
grinding forward.
Something slim and distinctly cool gets pressed him, and he squirms away from it instinctively. It doesn't feel /bad/, but it feels weird considering he's only had Dazai's fingers inside him, and /this/, whatever it is, is definitely not fingers.
It's only a
Something slim and distinctly cool gets pressed him, and he squirms away from it instinctively. It doesn't feel /bad/, but it feels weird considering he's only had Dazai's fingers inside him, and /this/, whatever it is, is definitely not fingers.
It's only a
little thicker than his fingers, so it's not much of a stretch to take it. But it /is/ oddly shaped, thicker on the part that's buried inside him, and thinner near his entrance. There's also a little tab-feeling thing that presses against his perineum. It's /also/ pressed right
against his prostate--Dazai /kindly/ informed him the term for the spot that drives him wild-- with a constant, unrelenting pressure that makes him squirm.
Dazai lets him go with a mild smack on his ass. "Come on, get up. We're going to breakfast."
Chuuya fists the blankets in
Dazai lets him go with a mild smack on his ass. "Come on, get up. We're going to breakfast."
Chuuya fists the blankets in
his hands, pressing his forehead to the bed. "Now? Like this? With it inside me?"
Even just /saying/ that makes him blush.
Dazai smiles at him again, sharp and wicked, the devil come to take his dues. "Yep."
And that's how they ended up here, seated in the outdoor section of a
Even just /saying/ that makes him blush.
Dazai smiles at him again, sharp and wicked, the devil come to take his dues. "Yep."
And that's how they ended up here, seated in the outdoor section of a
restaurant, with Chuuya swearing he's about to /die/ while Dazai innocently asks the waitress about the ingredients to a dish while he plays with the vibration settings for the toy with the app he has on his phone.
Chuuya is /trying/ to be nice, patient and /subtle/. He stares
Chuuya is /trying/ to be nice, patient and /subtle/. He stares
blindly into traffic, jaw clenched around a moan as the vibrations amp /up/, sending white-hot slivers of pleasure splintering through him.
He's /trying/ to be, but eventually he can't take the frustration anymore. "It's fucking french toast, why do you need the ingredients?!
He's /trying/ to be, but eventually he can't take the frustration anymore. "It's fucking french toast, why do you need the ingredients?!
It's bread, syrup and strawberries??"
The pair grow silent. The poor waitress girl looks shocked, but /Dazai/ just looks like he hit the jackpot.
Right on cue, the toy inside him /spikes/, so strongly that Chuuya inadvertently lets out a choked gasp, gripping the edge of the
The pair grow silent. The poor waitress girl looks shocked, but /Dazai/ just looks like he hit the jackpot.
Right on cue, the toy inside him /spikes/, so strongly that Chuuya inadvertently lets out a choked gasp, gripping the edge of the
table so he doesn't fall over completely. It feels like a /firework/ is lodged against his most sensitive spots, filling him with fire and heat and ecstasy, so much that he's fast approaching his limit--
His neglected erection pressing against his zipper adds just enough pain
His neglected erection pressing against his zipper adds just enough pain
that the pleasure feels /better/ in comparison, and /fuck/, he's really about to full-on /moan/ in a restaurant or maybe worse, like /orgasm/--
The vibrations cut off completely, so suddenly Chuuya feels dizzy from it.
"I'm sorry," Dazai sighs, sounding like an exhausted parent
The vibrations cut off completely, so suddenly Chuuya feels dizzy from it.
"I'm sorry," Dazai sighs, sounding like an exhausted parent
dealing with a kid throwing a temper tantrum. "We'll have two orders of pancakes, and a pot of coffee, please."
That /fucker/ spent five minutes discussing the pros and cons of different bread for french toast and he didn't even /order it/?!
In other circumstances, Chuuya might
That /fucker/ spent five minutes discussing the pros and cons of different bread for french toast and he didn't even /order it/?!
In other circumstances, Chuuya might
be angry that Dazai ordered for him, but he's too busy trying not to be turned on by the casual dominance of it, and /trying/ to control his anger over the fact that he didn't even order the damn french toast.
The waitress nods, eyes only for Dazai, taking their orders back.
The waitress nods, eyes only for Dazai, taking their orders back.
"You know," Dazai says, folding his hands on the table and resting his chin on them, flashing him a smug smile. "You should really behave if you don't want to get punished."
Chuuya glares at him from underneath his bangs, struggling to control his breathing. "I'm already being
Chuuya glares at him from underneath his bangs, struggling to control his breathing. "I'm already being
punished, asshole."
What else would you call being /publicly/ tormented where everyone can see, getting pushed so close to the edge only to be dropped back down as /soon/ as it starts to feel fantastic?
Dazai's smile widens, and his eyes feel like they're piercing straight into
What else would you call being /publicly/ tormented where everyone can see, getting pushed so close to the edge only to be dropped back down as /soon/ as it starts to feel fantastic?
Dazai's smile widens, and his eyes feel like they're piercing straight into
his /soul/, spearing through him. "Sweetheart," he says, voice dripping with something Chuuya can't name, all he knows is that it settles deep in his stomach, "/when/ I punish you, you'll know. I'll make you /count/."
Count /what/, Chuuya doesn't get to ask, because at that
Count /what/, Chuuya doesn't get to ask, because at that
moment the waitress comes back with their food.
And it's irrational-- for fucks sake, Chuuya's got a vibrator inside him that Dazai is playing with--but the sweet, innocent smile Dazai graces her with, /especially/ when he's being mean to him, makes irritation boil in his chest.
And it's irrational-- for fucks sake, Chuuya's got a vibrator inside him that Dazai is playing with--but the sweet, innocent smile Dazai graces her with, /especially/ when he's being mean to him, makes irritation boil in his chest.
He doesn't want Dazai to smile for anyone else. He wants that smile for /him/ and he wants to be taken home and he wants to be /fucked/ and he wants to come. He's so frustrated he could cry and he has a sinking feeling that Dazai is not /nearly/ done with him.
He ends up being
He ends up being
/correct/ because Dazai just leans back in his chair and watches him try to eat his pancakes, hiding a smirk in his coffee cup.
Half the time when Chuuya brings a bite to his mouth, the vibration increases in intensity until he’s jerking in place and losing focus. It’s never a
Half the time when Chuuya brings a bite to his mouth, the vibration increases in intensity until he’s jerking in place and losing focus. It’s never a
set pattern or rhythm he can get used to or anticipate. Sometimes Dazai lets him get a few peaceful bites in with the toy still inside him.
Sometimes Dazai turns it onto a low but noticeable setting and /leaves/ it there until Chuuya is subtly squirming, torn between wanting it
Sometimes Dazai turns it onto a low but noticeable setting and /leaves/ it there until Chuuya is subtly squirming, torn between wanting it
to stop and /needing/ it to keep going, /faster/.
Sometimes Dazai will wait until his fork is almost to his mouth before ramping up the settings /hard/, and Chuuya has to quickly put the food down before he drops it all over himself or the table.
And while Chuuya is pretty
Sometimes Dazai will wait until his fork is almost to his mouth before ramping up the settings /hard/, and Chuuya has to quickly put the food down before he drops it all over himself or the table.
And while Chuuya is pretty
sure he looks a mess— flushed, subtly panting, shaking like a leaf even though he’s trying his /best/ to keep himself composed in public—, Dazai looks calm and collected, if a bit sadistic with that smug, possessive look in his eye.
Chuuya barely manages to eat half a pancake,
Chuuya barely manages to eat half a pancake,
an accomplishment for him because he’s not hungry.
Not for food anyways.
“Are you done torturing me?” Chuuya hisses, fingers clenched on the edge of the table as the waitress clears their plates away.
Sipping his second cup of coffee, Dazai hums contemplatively. He’s barely
Not for food anyways.
“Are you done torturing me?” Chuuya hisses, fingers clenched on the edge of the table as the waitress clears their plates away.
Sipping his second cup of coffee, Dazai hums contemplatively. He’s barely
touched his own food, and Chuuya vaguely remembers him saying a while ago that he didn’t really like western breakfasts and especially not pancakes.
“I was considering it,” Dazai says, tone making Chuuya’s stomach drop in dread, “and then you had to call me an /asshole/.”
“I was considering it,” Dazai says, tone making Chuuya’s stomach drop in dread, “and then you had to call me an /asshole/.”
Wait, he didn’t mean it, he was just frustrated—
“And now I’m thinking that there’s quite a few places in Osaka that you haven’t seen yet, and it’s such a lovely day for sight-seeing, don’t you think?”
Chuuya nearly sobs with frustration. He hates him. He hates him /so/ much.
“And now I’m thinking that there’s quite a few places in Osaka that you haven’t seen yet, and it’s such a lovely day for sight-seeing, don’t you think?”
Chuuya nearly sobs with frustration. He hates him. He hates him /so/ much.
Dazai tortures him for the /entire/ day. He drags him along on train rides to all the tourist attractions, showing off all the greatest sights of the city.
Chuuya /wishes/ he could enjoy sight-seeing. There’s a point where he’s staring up at Osaka-jou, and wishing he could
Chuuya /wishes/ he could enjoy sight-seeing. There’s a point where he’s staring up at Osaka-jou, and wishing he could
actually admire the architecture of what was once the largest castle in all of Japan instead of having his vision so blurry he can barely see, entirely focused on the irregular pattern of the toy inside him.
His hard on is so persistent and obvious that he actually has to tie
His hard on is so persistent and obvious that he actually has to tie
his sweater around his waist so he doesn’t offend anyone.
He nearly has a mental breakdown on their third train trip of the day, after his fourth denied orgasm. That ends up with Dazai whisking them both into a secluded hallway and letting him smother his frustrated tears and
He nearly has a mental breakdown on their third train trip of the day, after his fourth denied orgasm. That ends up with Dazai whisking them both into a secluded hallway and letting him smother his frustrated tears and
angry bites into his chest as his body cools down once again.
Brushing his thumb gently over his cheek to collect his tears, Dazai gently reminds him once again that he only has to say the word to get him to stop. Or, in this case, taken to the nearest private area so Chuuya can
Brushing his thumb gently over his cheek to collect his tears, Dazai gently reminds him once again that he only has to say the word to get him to stop. Or, in this case, taken to the nearest private area so Chuuya can
have his orgasm as quickly as possible.
He won’t lie, the thought is /tempting/. He’s never been denied like this before and Dazai is /not/ going easy on him. The tension from all his almost-orgasms is building steadily, winding tightly around his spine until he might snap from
He won’t lie, the thought is /tempting/. He’s never been denied like this before and Dazai is /not/ going easy on him. The tension from all his almost-orgasms is building steadily, winding tightly around his spine until he might snap from
the overload. And he’s not sure if it’ll break in a /good/ way or in a bad one, this time, teetering between agonized frustration and sublime pleasure.
At the same time though, there’s something /depressing/ about the thought of giving in before Dazai’s done with him. Chuuya
At the same time though, there’s something /depressing/ about the thought of giving in before Dazai’s done with him. Chuuya
/thrives/ on meeting expectations, on excelling. He’s not a quitter, and he hates the idea of giving up when he hasn’t yet hit his absolute physical limits yet.
He /wants/ to be good. He wants to be a good boy, even if it feels like he might be actually dying from it.
He
He /wants/ to be good. He wants to be a good boy, even if it feels like he might be actually dying from it.
He
shakes his head mutely, shivering in Dazai’s arms. He can keep going, at least for a little longer.
(He doesn’t see the concerned look on Dazai’s face. Dazai’s been pushing him hard with the /intent/ of getting him to give in and submit to him, but they’ve clearly hit some sort
(He doesn’t see the concerned look on Dazai’s face. Dazai’s been pushing him hard with the /intent/ of getting him to give in and submit to him, but they’ve clearly hit some sort
of limit for him and he’s not safe-wording out. He’s being /stubborn/.
At this point in time, Dazai does not know that Chuuya often treats his limits as /suggestions/, and he has to keep a more careful watch on him to ensure he’s not pushing himself too hard.)
At this point in time, Dazai does not know that Chuuya often treats his limits as /suggestions/, and he has to keep a more careful watch on him to ensure he’s not pushing himself too hard.)
The rest of the day Dazai takes it relatively easy on him, at least in comparison to earlier. He doesn’t /stop/ teasing him, but instead of relentlessly driving him to the brink and back, it’s more of a constant stream of pleasure that /can/ be ignored if he focuses enough.
Dazai is also a lot more touchy with him, always has a hand on his waist or an arm over his shoulder, or is pressed up against the length of his back. That helps, both as a grounding measure that Chuuya can lean on whenever his legs feel too wobbly, and also because he can grab
onto his wrist and /squeeze/ whenever he’s trying to choke back a moan.
There’s also a point where Dazai keeps the vibrations too high for too long and Chuuya brings his forearm to his mouth and /bites/ to keep himself from moaning loudly. That earns him a low hiss, and a sharp
There’s also a point where Dazai keeps the vibrations too high for too long and Chuuya brings his forearm to his mouth and /bites/ to keep himself from moaning loudly. That earns him a low hiss, and a sharp
spike in intensity that /almost/ ends it all, right here in line for the Tempozan Ferris Wheel, before it stops suddenly.
Forcibly pulling his arm away, Dazai grips his jaw with hard fingers and tips his head back painfully far so he can press a bruising kiss to his lips.
Part
Forcibly pulling his arm away, Dazai grips his jaw with hard fingers and tips his head back painfully far so he can press a bruising kiss to his lips.
Part
of Chuuya wants to keep pushing Dazai until he /snaps/ and stops playing this game and /devours/ him.
The other part wants to just melt into a puddle and mindlessly beg until Dazai takes mercy on him and makes him come.
Which side is currently winning just depends on how close
The other part wants to just melt into a puddle and mindlessly beg until Dazai takes mercy on him and makes him come.
Which side is currently winning just depends on how close
he is at any given moment.
Dazai puts him through at least four different tourist attractions and hours of pleasurable torment before he /finally/ suggests going back to the hotel for a late lunch. The train ride back is filled with low-grade buzzing and sharp-edged
Dazai puts him through at least four different tourist attractions and hours of pleasurable torment before he /finally/ suggests going back to the hotel for a late lunch. The train ride back is filled with low-grade buzzing and sharp-edged
anticipation that makes every moment stretch out taffy-thick and heady.
As /soon/ as the door shuts behind them, Chuuya is jumping on Dazai with every ounce of desperation vibrating in his teased body.
"Please, please, please," he mutters nonsensically, pressing frantic kisses
As /soon/ as the door shuts behind them, Chuuya is jumping on Dazai with every ounce of desperation vibrating in his teased body.
"Please, please, please," he mutters nonsensically, pressing frantic kisses
to his jaw, the only place he can reach, like if he just /proves/ how desperate he is, Dazai will take mercy on him. "Please, I was good, I was a good boy, /please/, I wanna cum."
One of Dazai's hands finds his lower back, fingers spreading wide and palm supporting the natural
One of Dazai's hands finds his lower back, fingers spreading wide and palm supporting the natural
arch of his spine and pulling him even closer. Dazai leans down,giving him easier access to rain kisses all over his cheeks.
Dazai doesn't kiss him though,turning his face whenever Chuuya gets too close, and he's so frustrated he might /bite him/ or maybe just straight up /cry/.
Dazai doesn't kiss him though,turning his face whenever Chuuya gets too close, and he's so frustrated he might /bite him/ or maybe just straight up /cry/.
"You were a good boy," Dazai rumbles, his voice filling the space between them until Chuuya feels encompassed in it entirely, drowning, "I'll make you a deal."
His other hand finds the back of Chuuya's thigh, encouraging him to lift and hop up until his legs are wrapped around
His other hand finds the back of Chuuya's thigh, encouraging him to lift and hop up until his legs are wrapped around
his waist and his back is being pressed against the wall.
Sighing pleasantly from the direct friction against his crotch, Chuuya buries his fingers in Dazai's hair. His hips rock subtly, an instinctive reaction.
"I can make you come now," Dazai offers, rolling his hips forward
Sighing pleasantly from the direct friction against his crotch, Chuuya buries his fingers in Dazai's hair. His hips rock subtly, an instinctive reaction.
"I can make you come now," Dazai offers, rolling his hips forward
in one powerful, smooth movement that makes his eyes roll back in his head and his ankles tighten around his lower back.
Yes, yes, /that's/ what he wants, he wants to come, it's been so and he's been /so good/--
"Or," Dazai continues, stilling completely and waiting until his
Yes, yes, /that's/ what he wants, he wants to come, it's been so and he's been /so good/--
"Or," Dazai continues, stilling completely and waiting until his
eyes refocus back on him, "You can wait a little longer and I'll make you come as many times as you want tonight."
Oh, that's not fucking /fair/. Chuuya's only orgasmed multiple times in a short span /once/, at Dazai's fingertips, and it felt /so/ good, so mind-bendingly
Oh, that's not fucking /fair/. Chuuya's only orgasmed multiple times in a short span /once/, at Dazai's fingertips, and it felt /so/ good, so mind-bendingly
pleasurable that he wasn't sure he would even survive. It somehow deepened his capacity for pleasure.
/One/ is good, obviously, but is it /enough/, especially after being teased and built up for /hours/? Will he be satisfied by /one/, or will he be left to wallow in the hopeless
/One/ is good, obviously, but is it /enough/, especially after being teased and built up for /hours/? Will he be satisfied by /one/, or will he be left to wallow in the hopeless
desire for /more/?
"...how mean are you going to be to me? Chuuya asks, tugging on Dazai's hair lightly.
Leaning forward, Dazai presses his lips to his cheek. The kiss and the smile Chuuya can feel against his skin have no right to feel as soft and sweet as they do. "Mm," Dazai
"...how mean are you going to be to me? Chuuya asks, tugging on Dazai's hair lightly.
Leaning forward, Dazai presses his lips to his cheek. The kiss and the smile Chuuya can feel against his skin have no right to feel as soft and sweet as they do. "Mm," Dazai
hums, contemplative. "I'll let you have a break during lunch, and then I'll be /kind/ of mean to you later tonight. You have to /earn/ your reward."
Lips twisting in an indignant snarl, Chuuya goes to tell him that's he's already /earned/ it, he's already been /good/--
"But
Lips twisting in an indignant snarl, Chuuya goes to tell him that's he's already /earned/ it, he's already been /good/--
"But
baby," Dazai continues, slowly making his way down his cheek and pressing his wicked smile against the corner of his mouth, "I'll make it /so/ good for you, I promise. You won't even remember your own name. All you'll know how to do is /beg/."
The idea of that probably shouldn't
The idea of that probably shouldn't
be as hot as it is, considering Dazai almost always has him near to mindless every time he touches him, but the sheer /confidence/ in that statement is enough to have Chuuya shivering in reaction.
This really isn't fucking fair. Dazai is so /mean/ to him.
It takes him a long
This really isn't fucking fair. Dazai is so /mean/ to him.
It takes him a long
moment to decide, moments where Dazai rains heart-achingly soft kisses all over his cheeks and jaw. They're not sexual--yet, and Chuuya is sure that can change in a /heartbeat/-- but the casual affection /does/ help a little. The deprivation feels like it's hollowed out a space
inside him, and the warmth of being pampered helps to fill it a little.
Probably not as much as an orgasm might,but /still/. He loves feeling treasured.
"Tonight then," Chuuya mutters, nuzzling his cheek into Dazai with a pleased sigh, "but you better be /so/ nice to me during
Probably not as much as an orgasm might,but /still/. He loves feeling treasured.
"Tonight then," Chuuya mutters, nuzzling his cheek into Dazai with a pleased sigh, "but you better be /so/ nice to me during
lunch."
The smile against his cheek makes Chuuya feel like he /won/.
Dazai moves downward, capturing his lips in a languid, soft kiss. One of his hands comes up, cupping his face and his thumb strokes gently over his cheekbone, silently reverent. "I will," he promises.
And he
The smile against his cheek makes Chuuya feel like he /won/.
Dazai moves downward, capturing his lips in a languid, soft kiss. One of his hands comes up, cupping his face and his thumb strokes gently over his cheekbone, silently reverent. "I will," he promises.
And he
is. They order room service again,and when the food arrives, Dazai pulls him into his lap.
They spend the entire lunch like that, Chuuya lounging in his lap as Dazai feeds him bites of fish and crab cakes, tilting his head back to have white wine poured carefully into his mouth.
They spend the entire lunch like that, Chuuya lounging in his lap as Dazai feeds him bites of fish and crab cakes, tilting his head back to have white wine poured carefully into his mouth.
He's so /affectionate/ too, murmuring quiet words to him or kissing over his cheeks or wiping a crumb delicately from the corner of his mouth, pampering him with touch and attention.
The toy is still inside him--getting used to the intrusion of it was a struggle at first, but by
The toy is still inside him--getting used to the intrusion of it was a struggle at first, but by
now, the pressure of it inside him is easy to overlook-- but it's turned completely off, and the only stimulation he gets is when he moves in Dazai's lap and the toy shifts inside him.
For almost two hours, Dazai lets him soak up attention and affection like a needy kitten,
For almost two hours, Dazai lets him soak up attention and affection like a needy kitten,
practically purring and melting in his lap, filled with happy-light warmth and satisfaction.
Eventually though, Dazai urges him up. "Go get ready" he tells him, voice amused and affectionate when Chuuya tries to cling onto him, "Wear something... sexy."
His eyebrows shoot up.
Eventually though, Dazai urges him up. "Go get ready" he tells him, voice amused and affectionate when Chuuya tries to cling onto him, "Wear something... sexy."
His eyebrows shoot up.
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing now?"
He's wearing a nice pair of jeans, a cropped shirt and a loose sweater that's since been discarded over the back of a chair. It's comfortable, casual, but still cute.
"Nothing, sweetheart. It's just not appropriate for where we're
He's wearing a nice pair of jeans, a cropped shirt and a loose sweater that's since been discarded over the back of a chair. It's comfortable, casual, but still cute.
"Nothing, sweetheart. It's just not appropriate for where we're
going."
"And where /are/ we going?"
Dazai smiles at him secretively, cleaning up their mess from lunch and stacking all the dirty plates. "You'll find out when we get there."
Chuuya narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. He still doesn't answer.
Fine then, Chuuya grumbles to
"And where /are/ we going?"
Dazai smiles at him secretively, cleaning up their mess from lunch and stacking all the dirty plates. "You'll find out when we get there."
Chuuya narrows his eyes at him suspiciously. He still doesn't answer.
Fine then, Chuuya grumbles to
himself as he makes his way back to the bedroom, keep your secrets.
It's surprisingly hard to dress when you don't know where you're going /and/ when you have a vibrating toy still inside you. It limits his options greatly.
He ends up fixing his makeup first, cleaning up the
It's surprisingly hard to dress when you don't know where you're going /and/ when you have a vibrating toy still inside you. It limits his options greatly.
He ends up fixing his makeup first, cleaning up the
smudged parts of eyeliner and adding a darker, smokier eyeshadow just in case. He skips lip color, but sharpens his cheekbones.
Then there's nothing left to do except get dressed and--
Here's where Chuuya gets a little /petty/. Dazai has been too controlled for his tastes, and
Then there's nothing left to do except get dressed and--
Here's where Chuuya gets a little /petty/. Dazai has been too controlled for his tastes, and
/clearly/ isn't being tempted enough. Besides, he /did/ say dress sexy so--
Why not turn up the /heat/?
For his shirt, he chooses a crimson tank top that ties in the back and leaves most of his back exposed. His front is completely covered, but his shoulders and spine are
Why not turn up the /heat/?
For his shirt, he chooses a crimson tank top that ties in the back and leaves most of his back exposed. His front is completely covered, but his shoulders and spine are
bare.
And his /skirt/ is the black one Dazai bought for him the first day they were in Osaka. The one that laces up on either side on the front, showing teasing hints of skin on his thighs and hips. He laces it tighter around his waist to keep it firmly in place, but /just/
And his /skirt/ is the black one Dazai bought for him the first day they were in Osaka. The one that laces up on either side on the front, showing teasing hints of skin on his thighs and hips. He laces it tighter around his waist to keep it firmly in place, but /just/
loose enough around his hips that it can be pushed up or a hand can slide underneath.
And because of how the skirt is designed, it's /very/ obvious that he's not wearing any underwear beneath.
It's bold, braver than he /usually/ would go for, especially for something he's going
And because of how the skirt is designed, it's /very/ obvious that he's not wearing any underwear beneath.
It's bold, braver than he /usually/ would go for, especially for something he's going
to be seen publicly in--assumingly, at least, because he still doesn't know where they're going-- and the mental image of his father fainting in sheer shock is /almost/ enough to get him to change into something else but--
Fuck it, right? He's needy, he's on edge, and he wants
Fuck it, right? He's needy, he's on edge, and he wants
Dazai to /regret/ denying him. If he's going to be suffering with unsatisfied lust, then he's /not/ going to be the only one.
Is he going to regret this decision as soon as strangers are looking at him? Possibly.
Is the look on Dazai's face when he prances out of the bedroom
Is he going to regret this decision as soon as strangers are looking at him? Possibly.
Is the look on Dazai's face when he prances out of the bedroom
making it worth every second of potential embarrassment? Abso-fucking-lutely.
Preening under the look, Chuuya does a spin for him, showing off the back of the outfit. He cocks his hip to the side, flashing a smug smirk as he rests a hand on his hip. "Too much?" He asks, even
Preening under the look, Chuuya does a spin for him, showing off the back of the outfit. He cocks his hip to the side, flashing a smug smirk as he rests a hand on his hip. "Too much?" He asks, even
though he /knows/, from the sight of Dazai's dilated pupils to the hunger growing steadily on his face, that he looks good.
"No," Dazai murmurs, eyes glinting, "you're perfect."
He doesn't look half-bad either. They've inadvertently matched, because Dazai's red silk shirt,
"No," Dazai murmurs, eyes glinting, "you're perfect."
He doesn't look half-bad either. They've inadvertently matched, because Dazai's red silk shirt,
half-buttoned to reveal the toned planes of his chest, is almost the same red as Chuuya's shirt. He's wearing black slacks that hug his hips deliciously.
His hair is artfully tousled, with a few strands curling lightly over his forehead.
He looks fucking /delicious/ and Chuuya
His hair is artfully tousled, with a few strands curling lightly over his forehead.
He looks fucking /delicious/ and Chuuya
would /much/ rather just stay here and mess up that careful hairstyle--
"Ready?" Dazai asks, picking up his phone and unlocking it.
Chuuya walks over, giving his own wallet to Dazai so he can carry it for him. He doesn't have pockets in this outfit. "Yeah."
As if in
"Ready?" Dazai asks, picking up his phone and unlocking it.
Chuuya walks over, giving his own wallet to Dazai so he can carry it for him. He doesn't have pockets in this outfit. "Yeah."
As if in
acknowledgment to his answer, the toy inside him buzzes back to life. Dazai flashes him a grin when Chuuya swallows hard, mentally preparing himself.
And the game begins again.
This time, Dazai calls a taxi for him, which is both a blessing and a curse. It's terribly awkward to
And the game begins again.
This time, Dazai calls a taxi for him, which is both a blessing and a curse. It's terribly awkward to
sit with the toy inside him, and the driver makes way too much small talk for Chuuya's tastes, but at least it's not as horribly public and exposed as being on the train was.
It takes about fifteen minutes to get to their destination, and the streets they take aren't any that
It takes about fifteen minutes to get to their destination, and the streets they take aren't any that
they've taken before, so they must be in a completely different part of the city.
It gets more crowded with people as they go along, the sidewalks filling up with people dressed in smart, chic clothing--
And Chuuya understands why as soon as they pull up to the building.
It gets more crowded with people as they go along, the sidewalks filling up with people dressed in smart, chic clothing--
And Chuuya understands why as soon as they pull up to the building.
A /nightclub/, practically throbbing with music and packed full of people waiting.
Chuuya slides out of the car after Dazai, adjusting his skirt. He's glad he went daring with his outfit because he fits right in. "A club? I didn't know you were into clubbing."
Dazai shrugs,
Chuuya slides out of the car after Dazai, adjusting his skirt. He's glad he went daring with his outfit because he fits right in. "A club? I didn't know you were into clubbing."
Dazai shrugs,
ushering him towards the front of the line. It feels weird to skip in front of an entire crowd of people, but Chuuya supposes that’s part of the perks that come with being rich and attractive. “I’m not, usually. Typically I prefer my clubs to be more of a... refined taste.”
The way he says it makes Chuuya think that’s not /exactly/ what he means, but he doesn’t elaborate.
“But I’m going to go out on a limb and assume /you/ haven’t been to one,” Dazai says. When the bouncer sees the expensive Rolex on Dazai’s wrist, he waves them both in.
Chuuya
“But I’m going to go out on a limb and assume /you/ haven’t been to one,” Dazai says. When the bouncer sees the expensive Rolex on Dazai’s wrist, he waves them both in.
Chuuya
scowls lightly, stepping up beside him. He’s not /wrong/, exactly— he’s still underage and so legally he’s not allowed to enter a club, and the only time he got a group up to sneak into one, Lucy’s parents caught them before they could even leave the driveway— but it still
irritates him that Dazai can just /tell/ he hasn’t done it.
“And,”Dazai continues,hand finding his lower back and pushing him forward so he’s the first one to step into the club.He leans down,breath washing hot over his ear and teeth lightly scraping,”I /like/ being your first.”
“And,”Dazai continues,hand finding his lower back and pushing him forward so he’s the first one to step into the club.He leans down,breath washing hot over his ear and teeth lightly scraping,”I /like/ being your first.”
Chuuya is saved from answering--and he's pretty sure his answer would be something around 'take me back to the hotel right the fuck now'--by the sounds of the club swallowing him whole.
It's loud, and even though the speakers are /vibrating/ with how loud the song that's playing
It's loud, and even though the speakers are /vibrating/ with how loud the song that's playing
is, he can't actually make out any of the lyrics. It's overshadow by sheer /bass/, throbbing through the air and settling into Chuuya's body like a heartbeat too big for his skin.
The space near the entrance is relatively clear, but only a few meters away, Chuuya can see the
The space near the entrance is relatively clear, but only a few meters away, Chuuya can see the
mass of bodies writhing on the dancefloor, highlighted by flashing colored lights.
It's a bit more crowded than he was expecting, literally so packed full that he has to fall into step behind Dazai and let him lead the way through the crowd to a set of stairs spiralling up to a
It's a bit more crowded than he was expecting, literally so packed full that he has to fall into step behind Dazai and let him lead the way through the crowd to a set of stairs spiralling up to a
second floor.
There's a security guard at the top, guarding a rope that sections off the second floor, but Dazai only has to flash /something/ from his wallet and the guard is unhooking the rope and letting them pass.
"I thought you said you didn't go to clubs?" Chuuya asks,
There's a security guard at the top, guarding a rope that sections off the second floor, but Dazai only has to flash /something/ from his wallet and the guard is unhooking the rope and letting them pass.
"I thought you said you didn't go to clubs?" Chuuya asks,
having to nearly shout to be heard over the music.
Dazai shoots a smile at him over his shoulder, heading towards an empty table near the back corner. It's far less crowded up here, and half of the people here seem more interested in shouted conversations over drinks.
They're
Dazai shoots a smile at him over his shoulder, heading towards an empty table near the back corner. It's far less crowded up here, and half of the people here seem more interested in shouted conversations over drinks.
They're
all dressed in clothing that screams luxury and wealth, and Chuuya suddenly feels a bit awkward.
These are /Dazai's/ kind of people. /His/ kind of people are down there on the first floor, and the only reason he can get up here in the first place is because of Dazai.
"I never
These are /Dazai's/ kind of people. /His/ kind of people are down there on the first floor, and the only reason he can get up here in the first place is because of Dazai.
"I never
said I /didn't/ come to clubs, just that it wasn't my usual scene. Wait here, I'll go get us drinks," Dazai says, pressing a quick kiss to the back of his hand before dropping it and walking away.
Chuuya stands by the empty table, feeling more and more awkward the longer he's
Chuuya stands by the empty table, feeling more and more awkward the longer he's
standing there by himself. Is he supposed to be doing something, like dancing or--
Feeling watched, Chuuya lifts his head and looks over the smaller crowd on the dancefloor up here. There's probably close to two dozen people dancing together in time with the thudding music.
In
Feeling watched, Chuuya lifts his head and looks over the smaller crowd on the dancefloor up here. There's probably close to two dozen people dancing together in time with the thudding music.
In
the middle of the group is a medium-height man with light hair that gleams under the lights. He's staring straight at Chuuya, and when he notices him looking back, he flashes something that is /supposed/ to be an inviting grin and gestures him over.
Snorting to himself, Chuuya
Snorting to himself, Chuuya
shakes his head in answer and looks away. Sorry buddy, you might've been appealing /if/ Chuuya hadn't come with the hottest person he's ever seen, in person /or/ on TV.
Speaking of Dazai, he's heading back through the crowd, two glasses in his hand. A cup of whiskey for himself
Speaking of Dazai, he's heading back through the crowd, two glasses in his hand. A cup of whiskey for himself
and some clear liquid shot for Chuuya.
Raising an eyebrow, he asks, "Is that it? I was expecting more."
Letting the shot glass dangle from the tip of his fingers, Dazai offers it to him. "If you want more, I'll get you more-- but you should keep in mind that I'm not going to
Raising an eyebrow, he asks, "Is that it? I was expecting more."
Letting the shot glass dangle from the tip of his fingers, Dazai offers it to him. "If you want more, I'll get you more-- but you should keep in mind that I'm not going to
do /anything/ to you if you're drunk."
Pouting, Chuuya takes the drink. "But what about our deal?"
"Our deal stands only if you're sober enough to consent to it."
Ugh, fine, whatever. It's not like Chuuya had plans to get wasted anyways, he just doesn't like /rules/.
Pouting, Chuuya takes the drink. "But what about our deal?"
"Our deal stands only if you're sober enough to consent to it."
Ugh, fine, whatever. It's not like Chuuya had plans to get wasted anyways, he just doesn't like /rules/.
Because Chuuya doesn't have a lot of experience drinking hard liquor-- he's stuck to mostly wine or the occasional stolen sip of vodka from his friend's parents' liquor cabinets-- he makes the mistake of sniffing at his glass first.
Wrinkling his nose at the burning smell, he
Wrinkling his nose at the burning smell, he
pulls the glass away as Dazai snickers at him.
"Don't get a /baby/, drink it."
Scowling, Chuuya takes a second to mentally prepare himself before plugging his nose and throwing the shot back in one quick movement. It burns like chemical hellfire on his tongue, a line of fire
"Don't get a /baby/, drink it."
Scowling, Chuuya takes a second to mentally prepare himself before plugging his nose and throwing the shot back in one quick movement. It burns like chemical hellfire on his tongue, a line of fire
sliding down his throat. It hits his stomach like a ball of warmth, spreading heat through his veins.
Suddenly he's very glad Dazai insisted on him eating a full meal before they came, because otherwise the alcohol might just knock him on his ass, as strong as it is. Premium
Suddenly he's very glad Dazai insisted on him eating a full meal before they came, because otherwise the alcohol might just knock him on his ass, as strong as it is. Premium
vodka, the kind Chuuya's only seen on /commercials/.
Dazai sits down on the booth seat, and the way his legs spread to take up more than he /needs/ is just too tempting for Chuuya to ignore.
He crawls into his lap, throwing one leg over him and then the other, straddling him.
Dazai sits down on the booth seat, and the way his legs spread to take up more than he /needs/ is just too tempting for Chuuya to ignore.
He crawls into his lap, throwing one leg over him and then the other, straddling him.
His skirt rides up higher on his thighs, and Dazai capitalizes on the newly exposed skin, laying his hand high on his thigh. His thumb brushes rhythmically over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, teasingly light.
Dazai's eyes are dark enough that they reflect the flashing
Dazai's eyes are dark enough that they reflect the flashing
lights, blues and purples and reds and greens, a personal show just for him.
"Hello," Chuuya says breathless, hands finding his shoulders.
"Hi," Dazai responds, smiling into his whiskey. He tips his head back to take a long sip, shadows collecting underneath his jaw and
"Hello," Chuuya says breathless, hands finding his shoulders.
"Hi," Dazai responds, smiling into his whiskey. He tips his head back to take a long sip, shadows collecting underneath his jaw and
shifting with the movement of his throat. Chuuya's eyes fall there naturally, and he can almost /taste/ his under his lips--
"Go dance," Dazai tells him, tapping his hand on his thigh lightly. When he hesitates, unwilling to go by /himself/, he smiles at him. "I'll join you in a
"Go dance," Dazai tells him, tapping his hand on his thigh lightly. When he hesitates, unwilling to go by /himself/, he smiles at him. "I'll join you in a
moment, I just want to finish my drink. I'll be watching."
Well... okay. Chuuya likes dancing anyways, he doesn't mind doing it by himself for a little if Dazai is watching him.
He should've realized it's a fucking trap, because as /soon/ as Chuuya starts sliding into a
Well... okay. Chuuya likes dancing anyways, he doesn't mind doing it by himself for a little if Dazai is watching him.
He should've realized it's a fucking trap, because as /soon/ as Chuuya starts sliding into a
rhythm, joining a little group of girls that fawn over his skirt, beginning to /dance/--
The vibrator springs back to violently pleasurable life.
Chuuya stumbles, nearly falling on his face in front of everyone. The girls, probably thinking he's drunk a little too much, grab
The vibrator springs back to violently pleasurable life.
Chuuya stumbles, nearly falling on his face in front of everyone. The girls, probably thinking he's drunk a little too much, grab
him by the arms and shoulders to keep him upright. He leans into them for a moment, getting his bearings because holy /shit/, Dazai really went from 0 to 100 real fucking quick.
Panting, he lifts his head to glare at him over the crowd. The light of his phone throws Dazai's
Panting, he lifts his head to glare at him over the crowd. The light of his phone throws Dazai's
features into sharp relief, highlighting his devilish smirk.
Swirling his drink in hand, Dazai arches an eyebrow at him and /deliberately/ places his finger on the screen and drags it up, up, /up/.
Fucking hell. This is almost like the restaurant all over again, except /worse/,
Swirling his drink in hand, Dazai arches an eyebrow at him and /deliberately/ places his finger on the screen and drags it up, up, /up/.
Fucking hell. This is almost like the restaurant all over again, except /worse/,
because Dazai isn't /stopping/, and now Chuuya's wearing a fake-leather skirt that rubs mercilessly against his bare cock.
Knowing Dazai is doing this on /purpose/, he tries to dance as long as he can but he's pretty sure he only lasts about ten minutes before he's stumbling
Knowing Dazai is doing this on /purpose/, he tries to dance as long as he can but he's pretty sure he only lasts about ten minutes before he's stumbling
back to the table on wobbly legs.
"Stop being so fucking mean to me," Chuuya /tries/ to snarl, but it comes out more as a breathless plea. His dick is so hard it /hurts/ and whatever peace his body got during the lunch break is quickly burning away.
Dazai smiles at him, too
"Stop being so fucking mean to me," Chuuya /tries/ to snarl, but it comes out more as a breathless plea. His dick is so hard it /hurts/ and whatever peace his body got during the lunch break is quickly burning away.
Dazai smiles at him, too
cute to be as /sadistic/ as he is. "No."
"Then take me back to the hotel? Please?"
Dazai double-taps on his screen, changing the vibration settings from a constant buzzing to a rhythm of even high vibrations interspersed with lower ones. "Tempting, but also no. I /did/ say you
"Then take me back to the hotel? Please?"
Dazai double-taps on his screen, changing the vibration settings from a constant buzzing to a rhythm of even high vibrations interspersed with lower ones. "Tempting, but also no. I /did/ say you
had to earn it."
Earn it by sporting a fucking hard on in front of /everyone/ in the club, clearly visible with his skirt, and /trying/ to hold it together and not fall apart into pieces.
God.
Chuuya closes his eyes, gripping the edge of the table. "I'm going to need another
Earn it by sporting a fucking hard on in front of /everyone/ in the club, clearly visible with his skirt, and /trying/ to hold it together and not fall apart into pieces.
God.
Chuuya closes his eyes, gripping the edge of the table. "I'm going to need another
drink."
Dazai hums, sliding out of the booth. His own glass is nearly empty. "Sure, baby. I'll be right back."
Thankfully, he lowers the settings since he won't be in sight of Chuuya, and while it's not /perfect/, it does allow him a moment to focus past the buzzing pleasure
Dazai hums, sliding out of the booth. His own glass is nearly empty. "Sure, baby. I'll be right back."
Thankfully, he lowers the settings since he won't be in sight of Chuuya, and while it's not /perfect/, it does allow him a moment to focus past the buzzing pleasure
and bring himself back under control.
Or well, it /would/--
If he weren't interrupted by a slightly nasal voice, inches away from his ear and making him flinch with surprise.
"Hey, baby, you look /great/-- come dance with me."
Okay, Chuuya might like being called baby by
Or well, it /would/--
If he weren't interrupted by a slightly nasal voice, inches away from his ear and making him flinch with surprise.
"Hey, baby, you look /great/-- come dance with me."
Okay, Chuuya might like being called baby by
/Dazai/, because when he calls him that it's backed by emotion and /affection/.
When /this/ asshole--the light-haired one from earlier-- calls him baby, it feels /demeaning/.
Chuuya turns his head, glaring slightly. He's not trying to be rude, but he's on the razor thin edge of
When /this/ asshole--the light-haired one from earlier-- calls him baby, it feels /demeaning/.
Chuuya turns his head, glaring slightly. He's not trying to be rude, but he's on the razor thin edge of
patience. "No, I'm with somebody else."
The guy grabs Chuuya's wrist, tugging on it insistently as he leers at him. "He shouldn't have left you alone then."
What is Chuuya, a damn dog that needs a leash and an owner? Something that needs to be /watched/, lest someone else take
The guy grabs Chuuya's wrist, tugging on it insistently as he leers at him. "He shouldn't have left you alone then."
What is Chuuya, a damn dog that needs a leash and an owner? Something that needs to be /watched/, lest someone else take
advantage of him?
He yanks his arm out of his grip, scowling at him. "I said no."
The guy changes tactics, crowding into his space with a condescending sneer. While he isn't terribly tall, and not nearly as tall as Dazai is, he /is/ still bigger than Chuuya is and manages to
He yanks his arm out of his grip, scowling at him. "I said no."
The guy changes tactics, crowding into his space with a condescending sneer. While he isn't terribly tall, and not nearly as tall as Dazai is, he /is/ still bigger than Chuuya is and manages to
box him in against the edge of the table. "Come on, sweetheart, don't be such a /bitch/. It's just a dance."
And, well--
Chuuya has /never/ had a lot of patience, and his temper has always been easily tripped. He's had a /long/ fucking day, he's frustrated and his skin is
And, well--
Chuuya has /never/ had a lot of patience, and his temper has always been easily tripped. He's had a /long/ fucking day, he's frustrated and his skin is
hypersensitive after all the teasing he's been through today, and this guy needs to be taught a /lesson/.
Smiling sweetly, Chuuya turns to face him more fully. He lifts his hands up, moving like he's come to his senses and he's going to join him for a dance, sliding over his
Smiling sweetly, Chuuya turns to face him more fully. He lifts his hands up, moving like he's come to his senses and he's going to join him for a dance, sliding over his
shoulders.
The guy smiles victoriously, leaning forward--
Only for Chuuya's hand to hook around the nape of his neck and /yank/ his head forward, slamming his face into the table with as much force as he can gather from this close.
His nose hits the metal with a sharp /crack/,
The guy smiles victoriously, leaning forward--
Only for Chuuya's hand to hook around the nape of his neck and /yank/ his head forward, slamming his face into the table with as much force as he can gather from this close.
His nose hits the metal with a sharp /crack/,
punctuated by a sharp yelp of pain.
Keeping him in place by knotting his fingers painfully in his hair and pressing his weight over his shoulders and neck, Chuuya leans in to snarl, "Do you /know/ what the word no means? It means leave me the /fuck/ alone, asshole. Do I need to
Keeping him in place by knotting his fingers painfully in his hair and pressing his weight over his shoulders and neck, Chuuya leans in to snarl, "Do you /know/ what the word no means? It means leave me the /fuck/ alone, asshole. Do I need to
spell it out for you? I'll do it with the blood from your /broken nose/ the next time you fucking touch me without permission."
Chuuya pulls him up forcibly, shoving him backwards with enough strength that he goes stumbling a few steps.
The guy touches his face in disbelief,
Chuuya pulls him up forcibly, shoving him backwards with enough strength that he goes stumbling a few steps.
The guy touches his face in disbelief,
and although his nose isn't broken yet, it /is/ bleeding. He looks at the red on his fingers, then looks up at Chuuya with a furious scowl.
"You fucking--"
Whatever insult he was about to say is cut off by a cool voice coming from the direction of the crowd. "I think," Dazai
"You fucking--"
Whatever insult he was about to say is cut off by a cool voice coming from the direction of the crowd. "I think," Dazai
says, and his voice is surprisingly /calm/ for how cutting it is, slicing easily through the music and leaving the air frozen in it's wake, "the man said no. I suggest you listen to the /first/ lesson he gave you, because if /I/ have to teach you one, especially so soon after the
first..."
Dazai steps forward, placing their drinks on the table, smoothly inserting himself between the two of them. His head turns to keep the asshole in view, eyes locked on target. "It won't be blood you'll be cleaning up."
A flash of teeth, unamused, a /threat/. "It will
Dazai steps forward, placing their drinks on the table, smoothly inserting himself between the two of them. His head turns to keep the asshole in view, eyes locked on target. "It won't be blood you'll be cleaning up."
A flash of teeth, unamused, a /threat/. "It will
be your /teeth/."
The guy, clearly reconsidering his options when he realizes how /tall/ and broad Dazai is, and how he's /clearly/ not kidding when he threatens to introduce his teeth to the floor, backpedals with a final snarl.
Chuuya watches him go with a sense of raw,
The guy, clearly reconsidering his options when he realizes how /tall/ and broad Dazai is, and how he's /clearly/ not kidding when he threatens to introduce his teeth to the floor, backpedals with a final snarl.
Chuuya watches him go with a sense of raw,
animal victory. Sure, maybe Dazai is more intimidating than he is, but /Chuuya/ is the reason he's bleeding and in pain.
Maybe he'll think twice about being an asshole now. One can only hope.
"You alright?" Dazai asks, reaching out to lightly grab the wrist the guy had been
Maybe he'll think twice about being an asshole now. One can only hope.
"You alright?" Dazai asks, reaching out to lightly grab the wrist the guy had been
tugging on. It doesn't hurt or anything. At most, it'll bruise for a day or so.
"Yeah," Chuuya huffs, "Told you I could take care of myself."
The smile Dazai gives him is fond, if slightly strained. "You sure did, baby."
He offers him the drink he brought him, and this time
"Yeah," Chuuya huffs, "Told you I could take care of myself."
The smile Dazai gives him is fond, if slightly strained. "You sure did, baby."
He offers him the drink he brought him, and this time
Chuuya is so keyed up that he takes it in one easy swallow.
Dazai watches him with a strange look in his eye, like a predator watching a fledgling hunter make it's first kill. Something like interest and hunger and calculation.
Fighting has always done /wonders/ for Chuuya's
Dazai watches him with a strange look in his eye, like a predator watching a fledgling hunter make it's first kill. Something like interest and hunger and calculation.
Fighting has always done /wonders/ for Chuuya's
confidence, taking all that awkward insecurity that he /usually/ feels and turning it into the soaring feeling of /victory/. Maybe it's not healthy, but Chuuya feels his /best/ when he's fresh off of kicking someone's ass.
He grabs Dazai by the wrist, dragging him forward.
He grabs Dazai by the wrist, dragging him forward.
"Come on, let's dance," he says, not taking no for an answer.
Dazai swallows his glass of whiskey in one swallow before letting himself be led out onto the floor.
The crowd parts for them easily, and they find a spot near the middle.
Chuuya lets go, moving to turn around so he
Dazai swallows his glass of whiskey in one swallow before letting himself be led out onto the floor.
The crowd parts for them easily, and they find a spot near the middle.
Chuuya lets go, moving to turn around so he
can face Dazai--
Only to get dragged back with a hand on his shoulder, pulling him into the strong, firm body behind him. The hand slides forward, finding the base of his neck and wrapping lightly around his throat.
Dazai leans forward, and he's so /broad/, his body covers his
Only to get dragged back with a hand on his shoulder, pulling him into the strong, firm body behind him. The hand slides forward, finding the base of his neck and wrapping lightly around his throat.
Dazai leans forward, and he's so /broad/, his body covers his
entirely, a solid wall of heat. His voice is a rumble in his ear. "/Where/ do you think you're going?"
Chuuya shivers. He wasn't planning on going /anywhere/, and especially isn't now. "Nowhere."
Lips brush over the shell of his ear, scorching hot. "That's right," he murmurs,
Chuuya shivers. He wasn't planning on going /anywhere/, and especially isn't now. "Nowhere."
Lips brush over the shell of his ear, scorching hot. "That's right," he murmurs,
voice pleased, body rolling forward in a movement that matches the beat of the music, easy to follow, "You're not going /anywhere/."
He murmurs the next part so low he might not even be speaking to Chuuya at all, teeth finding the spot just below his ear. "/Mine./"
He murmurs the next part so low he might not even be speaking to Chuuya at all, teeth finding the spot just below his ear. "/Mine./"
Chuuya shivers, arching against him in silent agreement, pushing back against him easily.
Maybe he shouldn't be surprised, but Dazai is an /excellent/ dancer. His body moves elegantly, smoothly. Always on the beat, strong hip rolls that make Chuuya's breath hitch, feet moving in
Maybe he shouldn't be surprised, but Dazai is an /excellent/ dancer. His body moves elegantly, smoothly. Always on the beat, strong hip rolls that make Chuuya's breath hitch, feet moving in
graceful patterns, subtly leading Chuuya.
It feels natural to fall into him, to follow his lead, and it barely even feels like they're dancing. It feels like /sex/, moving together instinctively, pressed up against each other as close as they can get while the music drives their
It feels natural to fall into him, to follow his lead, and it barely even feels like they're dancing. It feels like /sex/, moving together instinctively, pressed up against each other as close as they can get while the music drives their
heartbeats.
Then the song changes, and Dazai lets out a huff of amusement. How he can recognize the song past the pounding bass, Chuuya doesn't know, but he easily matches their rhythm to the beat of the song.
Lips whispering over the exposed skin of his shoulder, Dazai
Then the song changes, and Dazai lets out a huff of amusement. How he can recognize the song past the pounding bass, Chuuya doesn't know, but he easily matches their rhythm to the beat of the song.
Lips whispering over the exposed skin of his shoulder, Dazai
murmurs a lyric, /"Rhythm make you move slow."/
Dazai shifts, moving the hand that had found his waist and reaching behind him.When he brings his hand forward again, his phone is sitting on the palm of his hand.
A threat, and a promise.
/"Nothing ever good happens after 3am,"/
Dazai shifts, moving the hand that had found his waist and reaching behind him.When he brings his hand forward again, his phone is sitting on the palm of his hand.
A threat, and a promise.
/"Nothing ever good happens after 3am,"/
Dazai continues, unlocking his phone one-handed. Chuuya is too busy trying to rein in the spiking anticipation to pay attention to whatever his password is.
When the lock screen fades, the app connected to the toy still inside him is the first thing that comes up. It's cutely
When the lock screen fades, the app connected to the toy still inside him is the first thing that comes up. It's cutely
colored in pinks and purples, with a few scattered flowers in the background.
Good marketing strategy, making your /torture device/ look cute.
/"Touching in the darkness, let the people watch us,"/ Dazai hums, clicking on a button on the top left. Each tap makes the toy buzz
Good marketing strategy, making your /torture device/ look cute.
/"Touching in the darkness, let the people watch us,"/ Dazai hums, clicking on a button on the top left. Each tap makes the toy buzz
inside him in a different way.
There's /one/ particular setting that makes Chuuya's knees nearly buckle.Two sharp, strong vibrations that are broken up by a tiny pause, then followed by a low buzz. A repeating pattern that is /just/ unpredictable enough that it feels impossible
There's /one/ particular setting that makes Chuuya's knees nearly buckle.Two sharp, strong vibrations that are broken up by a tiny pause, then followed by a low buzz. A repeating pattern that is /just/ unpredictable enough that it feels impossible
to get used to.
"That one?" Dazai chuckles, scraping his teeth over the curve of his neck.
Chuuya gulps, feeling like he just exposed his weakness for him to sink his teeth into.
In what seems to be slow motion, Dazai moves his thumb to the middle of the screen and presses on
"That one?" Dazai chuckles, scraping his teeth over the curve of his neck.
Chuuya gulps, feeling like he just exposed his weakness for him to sink his teeth into.
In what seems to be slow motion, Dazai moves his thumb to the middle of the screen and presses on
it. With him draped over his back, pressed together and breathing hot over his throat, Dazai moves his finger /up/.
The vibrations increase rapidly, relentlessly good, making Chuuya shudder. He grips Dazai's forearm, fighting for composure as the pleasure builds and builds. He's
The vibrations increase rapidly, relentlessly good, making Chuuya shudder. He grips Dazai's forearm, fighting for composure as the pleasure builds and builds. He's
helpless to resist, too strung out to /fight/, hanging limp in his grip as he pants and struggles to hang on.
Lips moving farther up, Dazai grips his throat and encourages his chin to tilt back further. His breath, hot and exciting, blows in his ear. "Moan for me."
Fuck.
Lips moving farther up, Dazai grips his throat and encourages his chin to tilt back further. His breath, hot and exciting, blows in his ear. "Moan for me."
Fuck.
“I—,” Chuuya starts, biting his lip harshly as Dazai rolls his hips forward sensually. The club is dark, and the music is loud, but there’s people literally only a few feet away.
They could hear him. They can probably already see that he’s turned on, even if the dark color of
They could hear him. They can probably already see that he’s turned on, even if the dark color of
his skirt adds /some/ protection.
Embarrassment and shame fills him, made even worse by the fact that a /large/ part of him likes being so exposed. Likes the thrill of it, the rush of danger and filth, the potential of being /caught/.
He’s torn between conflicting desires,
Embarrassment and shame fills him, made even worse by the fact that a /large/ part of him likes being so exposed. Likes the thrill of it, the rush of danger and filth, the potential of being /caught/.
He’s torn between conflicting desires,
struggling on the knifes edge—
And Dazai tips the scales for him.
The hand on his throat encourages his head to tilt back further, until it meets his shoulder. “Don’t think about them,” he murmurs into his ear, finger spiking the toy controls, “just think about me. Only me.”
And Dazai tips the scales for him.
The hand on his throat encourages his head to tilt back further, until it meets his shoulder. “Don’t think about them,” he murmurs into his ear, finger spiking the toy controls, “just think about me. Only me.”
Chuuya’s lips part, eyes going half-lidded. They’re not so much dancing as grinding against eachother now. Dazai’s thigh has found it’s way between his legs, pressing forward in rhythmic waves that make the toy press harder against him, /deeper/.
“How good I make you feel,”
“How good I make you feel,”
he whispers, finding the hinge of Chuuya’s jaw and sinking his teeth in. He’s hard against his back, growing harder with each roll of their hips together. His voice is all Chuuya can hear, dripping like sin and caramel over every one of his senses, slowly burning away the last
shreds of his self-restraint.
The lights throb above him, making his world spin.
“How good it will feel when you finally get to fall apart.” Dazai’s hand tightens on his throat. Not enough to choke him, or even cut off his air, but as a /reminder/ of what they did yesterday.
The lights throb above him, making his world spin.
“How good it will feel when you finally get to fall apart.” Dazai’s hand tightens on his throat. Not enough to choke him, or even cut off his air, but as a /reminder/ of what they did yesterday.
Chuuya takes a shuddering breath, his exhale escaping him on a low moan, just loud enough for Dazai to hear.
There’s a victorious smile against his jaw. “How good it will feel when I make you come for me, over and over again until you /can’t/ anymore.”
Dazai grinds forward at
There’s a victorious smile against his jaw. “How good it will feel when I make you come for me, over and over again until you /can’t/ anymore.”
Dazai grinds forward at
the same time his thigh lifts upwards, making his skirt slide another inch higher and tightening around his erection—
The toy vibrates twice, criminally strong, followed by a low, constant buzz.
Chuuya can’t help the high-pitched keen, clawing at Dazai’s forearm as his body
The toy vibrates twice, criminally strong, followed by a low, constant buzz.
Chuuya can’t help the high-pitched keen, clawing at Dazai’s forearm as his body
jerks under the sensations.
It’s too /much/, too good, heightened by the people around them and the feeling of Dazai’s bulge pressed up against him, it’s not /stopping/, he’s going to—
Squeezing his eyes shut, Chuuya manages to get out a choked, “I’m gonna—“ in warning—
It’s too /much/, too good, heightened by the people around them and the feeling of Dazai’s bulge pressed up against him, it’s not /stopping/, he’s going to—
Squeezing his eyes shut, Chuuya manages to get out a choked, “I’m gonna—“ in warning—
Everything /stops/. The vibrations, the grinding, the thigh between his legs, /everything/.
The sudden stop feels like being dunked in cold water in the worst way, being built up to the edge and throbbing with anticipation just for it all to fade away as /soon/ as it starts
The sudden stop feels like being dunked in cold water in the worst way, being built up to the edge and throbbing with anticipation just for it all to fade away as /soon/ as it starts
to feel great and--
God, the deprivation actually /hurts/ this time, and he can't stop the tears from springing up in his eyes as he digs his nails into Dazai's arm to keep himself from doing something dramatic, like throwing himself to the floor to have a temper tantrum.
Of
God, the deprivation actually /hurts/ this time, and he can't stop the tears from springing up in his eyes as he digs his nails into Dazai's arm to keep himself from doing something dramatic, like throwing himself to the floor to have a temper tantrum.
Of
course, Dazai is still being sweet to him even as he's /torturing/ him, murmuring quiet compliments and soothing words against his jawline, fingertips stroking gently along his skin.
The contrast is so hard to come to terms with, because /how/ can someone who is literally edging
The contrast is so hard to come to terms with, because /how/ can someone who is literally edging
him to an inch of his life also be so /nice/ to him, it just doesn't make /sense/.
When Chuuya gets his breath back,he swallows hard. He's sure that the other people around them are staring, but he doesn't care anymore. "I wanna go back to the hotel."
Another kiss on his cheek.
When Chuuya gets his breath back,he swallows hard. He's sure that the other people around them are staring, but he doesn't care anymore. "I wanna go back to the hotel."
Another kiss on his cheek.
"Just a little longer--."
Chuuya cuts him off, voice thick with frustration and tears. "No, I wanna go back /now/."
(Normally, Dazai might deny his request on principle alone. He likes his subs to have /manners/ and he's pretty consistent on teaching brats to behave by
Chuuya cuts him off, voice thick with frustration and tears. "No, I wanna go back /now/."
(Normally, Dazai might deny his request on principle alone. He likes his subs to have /manners/ and he's pretty consistent on teaching brats to behave by
/ignoring/ them when they're being rude but--
Chuuya /isn't/ his sub. Yes,they might be edging into the kinkier aspects of play, but there has /yet/ to be a conversation on it. He doesn't have the right to tell him /no/ yet.
Besides, this is the /first/ time Chuuya has actually
Chuuya /isn't/ his sub. Yes,they might be edging into the kinkier aspects of play, but there has /yet/ to be a conversation on it. He doesn't have the right to tell him /no/ yet.
Besides, this is the /first/ time Chuuya has actually
called a limit. He didn't call it /correctly/, but this is the first time he's put his foot down and said /no/, he can't handle it.
And if Dazai ignored that, or worse /punished/ him for it, not only would he be a bad dominant, but he'd /also/ be a bad person.)
"Okay," Dazai
And if Dazai ignored that, or worse /punished/ him for it, not only would he be a bad dominant, but he'd /also/ be a bad person.)
"Okay," Dazai
tells him, turning the toy to it's lowest, most easily-ignored setting. Chuuya is grateful because after /hours/ of stimulation, a complete lack of it now might just make him /break/. "I got you, baby. We're going back."
Dazai keeps his phone in clear view as he pulls up the
Dazai keeps his phone in clear view as he pulls up the
Uber app and requests a ride, showing him the ten minutes wait time estimation.
Chuuya nods, shivering. Now that the end is in sight, he's starting to feel a /bit/ better, but he still feels raw and oversensitive in a way that isn't strictly pleasant.
Dazai coaxes him off the
Chuuya nods, shivering. Now that the end is in sight, he's starting to feel a /bit/ better, but he still feels raw and oversensitive in a way that isn't strictly pleasant.
Dazai coaxes him off the
dancefloor to wait at their table, pulling him into his lap. Chuuya huddles up, fighting the urge to just grind against him until he orgasms. He's so /close/ and he did so good, he just needs to wait a tiny bit longer so they can have some privacy.
The drive back passes by in a
The drive back passes by in a
haze. If the driver talks to him, he doesn't hear it,too busy clinging onto Dazai like he might escape if he lets go.
He doesn't even walk into the hotel himself. Dazai guides him into wrapping his legs around his waist and carries him up, something that Chuuya didn't /need/ him
He doesn't even walk into the hotel himself. Dazai guides him into wrapping his legs around his waist and carries him up, something that Chuuya didn't /need/ him
to do, but he appreciates it anyway because his legs are so wobbly.
It's only when the door shuts behind them, Dazai supporting him with one hand as he locks it, that Chuuya comes back to life.
Humming, he presses his cheek against Dazai's neck, mouthing at the material of
It's only when the door shuts behind them, Dazai supporting him with one hand as he locks it, that Chuuya comes back to life.
Humming, he presses his cheek against Dazai's neck, mouthing at the material of
his shirt. He feels a little mindless, pure instinct wrapped in need and frustration and desperation,melting in Dazai's hands like candle wax. "Are you gonna...?"
He trails off there, because he finds an old scar on his skin, and he decides to taste it with his tongue and teeth,
He trails off there, because he finds an old scar on his skin, and he decides to taste it with his tongue and teeth,
sucking on it until he can feel Dazai's breath hitch against him.
He wants to find every scar on his body and lavish it with attention.
"Yes, chibi," Dazai says quietly, heading to the bedroom, "I'm gonna take care of you."
Maybe it's the drinks he had, or the way he's been
He wants to find every scar on his body and lavish it with attention.
"Yes, chibi," Dazai says quietly, heading to the bedroom, "I'm gonna take care of you."
Maybe it's the drinks he had, or the way he's been
pushed to the edge so many times today, but his head is already starting to feel a little fuzzy. He can still think, and he's still lucid, he's just--
Knocked off his axis a little bit, spinning lopsidedly, the sensations of his body overtaking his thoughts.
His back hits the
Knocked off his axis a little bit, spinning lopsidedly, the sensations of his body overtaking his thoughts.
His back hits the
mattress lightly, and he stretches with a soft sigh. Anticipation is thrumming through him again, because he /did/ it, he was good all day and now he's going to get his reward.
Dazai stands at the edge of the bed, with his legs still hooked around his hips, staring down at him
Dazai stands at the edge of the bed, with his legs still hooked around his hips, staring down at him
with a dark, heady look in his eye as he slowly rolls both of his sleeves up to his elbows. His forearms are bare again, and Chuuya /thinks/ he sees smudges of red and black patterns, but he's too busy thinking about the way the muscles flex and roll with every movement.
His own
His own
fingers fumble at the ties of his skirt, clumsily trying to undo the knots. He doesn't want to ruin this skirt too, because he /likes/ this one. Plus, as the ties begin to come undone, the pressure against his erection is eased, letting him take a breath in relief.
Eventually,
Eventually,
Dazai gets impatient with his fumbling and knocks his hands out of the way so he can tug his skirt off himself.
The fresh air against his upper thighs is both cooling and incinerating, because now he's mostly naked underneath Dazai, vibrating with tension and anticipation. His
The fresh air against his upper thighs is both cooling and incinerating, because now he's mostly naked underneath Dazai, vibrating with tension and anticipation. His
cock is hard, lying against his belly, practically throbbing underneath Dazai's dark gaze.
Reaching behind him, Dazai pulls his phone out of his pocket. The time it takes for him to unlock it is filled with suspense, Chuuya's thighs rubbing together unconciously.
With a devlish
Reaching behind him, Dazai pulls his phone out of his pocket. The time it takes for him to unlock it is filled with suspense, Chuuya's thighs rubbing together unconciously.
With a devlish
smirk, Dazai brings the toy back to buzzing life.
Ecstasy bursts through Chuuya like fireworks, searing hot and so good it nearly hurts, driving back to the brink so quickly he feels dizzy with it.
Keening, he thrashes, instinctively trying to escape the white-hot pleasure, but
Ecstasy bursts through Chuuya like fireworks, searing hot and so good it nearly hurts, driving back to the brink so quickly he feels dizzy with it.
Keening, he thrashes, instinctively trying to escape the white-hot pleasure, but
Dazai catches one his legs by the ankle and keeps him in place.
"Ah! Fuck, fuck, it's-- I'm-- /shit/," Chuuya groans, body bucking as the tension builds and builds and builds, flinging him into a sea of rapture without any way to return. He's almost /there/, and he's reaching
"Ah! Fuck, fuck, it's-- I'm-- /shit/," Chuuya groans, body bucking as the tension builds and builds and builds, flinging him into a sea of rapture without any way to return. He's almost /there/, and he's reaching
for it frantically, aching for the orgasm. The tension wraps around him, squeezing so tight he can barely breathe around the desire for /more/--
Sticking out his tongue slowly, Dazai licks the tip of his finger to get it wet. Then he reaches down, smearing saliva over the top of
Sticking out his tongue slowly, Dazai licks the tip of his finger to get it wet. Then he reaches down, smearing saliva over the top of
his cock, pressing into the sensitive tip just slightly--
And that's all he needs.
With a shuddering, keening cry, the orgasm takes him. It's earth-shattering, life-changing, so hot and heavy and /good/ that all he can do is try to /survive/ as it rocks him all the way to his
And that's all he needs.
With a shuddering, keening cry, the orgasm takes him. It's earth-shattering, life-changing, so hot and heavy and /good/ that all he can do is try to /survive/ as it rocks him all the way to his
/soul/.
It doesn't feel /good/, it feels like /life/, like heaven, like everything good and pleasurable is centered in his nerve endings and /drowning/ him in pleasure.
(Because Dazai knows what to look for and he knows to expect it now--
He sees the exact moment Chuuya drops
It doesn't feel /good/, it feels like /life/, like heaven, like everything good and pleasurable is centered in his nerve endings and /drowning/ him in pleasure.
(Because Dazai knows what to look for and he knows to expect it now--
He sees the exact moment Chuuya drops
into his headspace.
The way his eyes widen and go unfocused,a haze creeping across them. His body tenses for a moment before going completely limp, sluggish and uncoordinated. Each one of his breaths is tinged with a moan, and if Dazai so much as runs his nails over his skin, he
The way his eyes widen and go unfocused,a haze creeping across them. His body tenses for a moment before going completely limp, sluggish and uncoordinated. Each one of his breaths is tinged with a moan, and if Dazai so much as runs his nails over his skin, he
shivers and arches into his touch, eager.
The toy is still buzzing inside him, ruthlessly driving him through his orgasm and /past/ it, making his legs twitch and tremble in response. He doesn't fight it though, keening softly from the overstimulation even as he relaxes into it.
The toy is still buzzing inside him, ruthlessly driving him through his orgasm and /past/ it, making his legs twitch and tremble in response. He doesn't fight it though, keening softly from the overstimulation even as he relaxes into it.
Good. He'll need to be /very/ relaxed if Dazai is going to get him as many orgasms as he promised.
"There you are," he muses, brushing fingertips up his sensitive thigh. His belly is messy with cum, and he'll make use of that later, but for now he just appreciates the way his
"There you are," he muses, brushing fingertips up his sensitive thigh. His belly is messy with cum, and he'll make use of that later, but for now he just appreciates the way his
muscles twitch and tremble underneath his touch. "Feels good?"
It takes him a moment to process, but Chuuya nods, arching up into him.
Personally, Dazai doesn't often enter anything close to dom space. Some of his friends at the club experience it more often than not when they
It takes him a moment to process, but Chuuya nods, arching up into him.
Personally, Dazai doesn't often enter anything close to dom space. Some of his friends at the club experience it more often than not when they
scene, but he doesn't. It doesn't matter, he's still in control of himself and the scene, he just doesn't usually experience the 'extra' that can sometimes come with it.
He probably shouldn't be surprised that they're compatible enough that Chuuya manages to pull it out of him.
He probably shouldn't be surprised that they're compatible enough that Chuuya manages to pull it out of him.
The room fades away as his focus sharpens, zeroing in on the man spread out below him. The needs of his own body— the burning, relentless lust that had been slowly growing inside him all day— takes a backseat to the needs of Chuuya.
For Dazai, the only thing that exists right
For Dazai, the only thing that exists right
now in this moment—
Is the little redhead shivering and squirming beneath him, staring up at him with beautifully dazed eyes, too gone to beg for more.
That’s okay. Dazai doesn’t need him to beg. He already knows.)
The vibrations don’t /stop/. Not for a single second. They
Is the little redhead shivering and squirming beneath him, staring up at him with beautifully dazed eyes, too gone to beg for more.
That’s okay. Dazai doesn’t need him to beg. He already knows.)
The vibrations don’t /stop/. Not for a single second. They
don’t climb either though, sticking to a constant, relentless buzz that drives him /insane/.
The pleasure is on the edge of things. Like sticking your hand under very hot water, and at first it feels /cold/, but then the heat registers and it /burns/—
It’s like that, except
The pleasure is on the edge of things. Like sticking your hand under very hot water, and at first it feels /cold/, but then the heat registers and it /burns/—
It’s like that, except
the sensations straddle the line between pleasure and pain. So good it almost hurts, but also hurts in a way that feels /good/, and you would think that eventually it would fall one way or the other—
But it /doesn’t/, it just stays there as Chuuya melts into the bed, until he
But it /doesn’t/, it just stays there as Chuuya melts into the bed, until he
feels like nothing except overwhelming pleasure-pain, his body so far away.
A hand grips his hip, the sensation shockingly firm compared to everything else. Chuuya relaxes into it, letting his hips be tilted up into a better angle.
A different hand swipes over the fun on his
A hand grips his hip, the sensation shockingly firm compared to everything else. Chuuya relaxes into it, letting his hips be tilted up into a better angle.
A different hand swipes over the fun on his
stomach, collecting the mess on a few fingers. Every brush of skin against Chuuya’s cock— half-soft and fighting to rise again— makes sharp sensation rocket down his spine.
The fingers leave, only to come back a moment later, pressed against his lips.
“Baby,” Dazai tells him,
The fingers leave, only to come back a moment later, pressed against his lips.
“Baby,” Dazai tells him,
and if Chuuya didn’t /know/ it was him, he might not even recognize him with how controlling his tone has become, like he could command the very air itself, “you’re so /messy/. Clean it up.”
The words feel thick and heavy in his ears, a puzzle he /should/ know the meaning to
The words feel thick and heavy in his ears, a puzzle he /should/ know the meaning to
but he can’t figure it out. However, the fingers pressing against his lips are /easy/ to read, leading him to open his mouth.
The taste is bitter on his tongue, but Dazai’s fingers are so /satisfying/ to suck on. Thick and warm and /long/, pressing against the back of his
The taste is bitter on his tongue, but Dazai’s fingers are so /satisfying/ to suck on. Thick and warm and /long/, pressing against the back of his
tongue, filling his mouth to the brim and taking away every last, empty space inside him.
He makes a content humming noise around his fingers, rubbing his tongue against the knuckles. He likes this, let’s him focus on /this/ while his body falls to pieces.
As if on cue,
He makes a content humming noise around his fingers, rubbing his tongue against the knuckles. He likes this, let’s him focus on /this/ while his body falls to pieces.
As if on cue,
Dazai's /other/ hand swipes through the wet remains on his stomach, smearing it all over his palm. Then his hand is closing around his cock in a tight grip, scorching hot with Chuuya's own cum, and /merciless/ as he begins to stroke him slowly but steadily.
It's too much, too
It's too much, too
/much/, too good, yes, yes, right there, a little /more/--
If his first orgasm felt like /burning/, the second one feels like melting. His limbs are hazy, indistinct feelings, while he gasps and moans incoherently around the fingers still in his mouth.
He shudders through it,
If his first orgasm felt like /burning/, the second one feels like melting. His limbs are hazy, indistinct feelings, while he gasps and moans incoherently around the fingers still in his mouth.
He shudders through it,
the pleasure too big for his skin, feeling almost /crushed/ by it and forced to just ride it out as it hits him in electric-static waves. It lasts /forever/ or seems like it does, wave after wave after wave until he can barely get a breath in.
The end isn't marked by a slow come
The end isn't marked by a slow come
down or a settling into an afterglow. No, it suddenly /swings/ into painful overstimulation, electrifying his nerve ending mercilessly.
One moment he's shivering and moaning, and the next he's frantically trying to squirm away, his cry muffled by Dazai's fingers. His legs
One moment he's shivering and moaning, and the next he's frantically trying to squirm away, his cry muffled by Dazai's fingers. His legs
instinctively try to close, but they're blocked by a body coming to rest between them.
"Ah, ah," Dazai tsks,and though his /voice/ sounds disapproving, he's letting go of his cock and reaching down to turn the vibrations on the toy. "Don't try to escape me, baby."
Chuuya shakes
"Ah, ah," Dazai tsks,and though his /voice/ sounds disapproving, he's letting go of his cock and reaching down to turn the vibrations on the toy. "Don't try to escape me, baby."
Chuuya shakes
his head, because that's not what he was trying to /do/, it was just too /much/.
Dazai pushes him further onto the bed, following him up, kneeling between his legs. He leans over him, and hooks his fingers behind his bottom teeth to turn his head to the side. His breath is
Dazai pushes him further onto the bed, following him up, kneeling between his legs. He leans over him, and hooks his fingers behind his bottom teeth to turn his head to the side. His breath is
searing hot in his ear,the tinge of a groan there /intoxicating/. "Because you're mine, now," he murmurs, scraping his teeth over the sensitive lob until Chuuya is shivering, "and you're not going anywhere, are you?"
Chuuya sucks on his fingers in response, making the tremendous
Chuuya sucks on his fingers in response, making the tremendous
effort to wrap his legs tighter around his hips and pull him /in/.
The action makes the toy shift inside him, but it’s /good/, the subtle grind against his prostate sparking pleasure across his nerves, but not overwhelming.
“So good for me,” Dazai sighs, nuzzling into his
The action makes the toy shift inside him, but it’s /good/, the subtle grind against his prostate sparking pleasure across his nerves, but not overwhelming.
“So good for me,” Dazai sighs, nuzzling into his
cheek. The hand not currently in Chuuya’s mouth makes its way between their bodies, pausing to shove his shirt up so he can pinch at his nipples until Chuuya’s squirming again, before finally finding his way to the buckle of his belt.
The clink of it coming undone makes heat
The clink of it coming undone makes heat
unfurl inside him, seemingly impossible because of how drained and carved out—in a good way— he already feels.
When the zipper slides down and his pants get pushed down just far enough, Dazai’s cock slips free, hot and hard and pulsing against his own.
Every little touch
When the zipper slides down and his pants get pushed down just far enough, Dazai’s cock slips free, hot and hard and pulsing against his own.
Every little touch
against his own cock makes sharp slivers of pleasure-pain knife through him, collecting into a ball of warmth in his stomach.
Dazai leans back a little, keeping his fingers in his mouth to keep him occupied as his other hand finds the crook of his knee and lifts it over his
Dazai leans back a little, keeping his fingers in his mouth to keep him occupied as his other hand finds the crook of his knee and lifts it over his
shoulder. His torso is long enough that it ends up being Chuuya’s calf resting on his shoulder as he guides the other leg into the same position.
Then he’s free to thrust into the tight space made by his thighs, impossibly slick with lube that Chuuya never noticed him get.
Then he’s free to thrust into the tight space made by his thighs, impossibly slick with lube that Chuuya never noticed him get.
It’s /good/, almost too much because each thrust of his hips grinds the toy inside him deeper, and every slide of his burning hot erection against his own feels like molten lava and all Chuuya can do is—
Lie there and /take it/, like a good boy, hands clenched in the sheets.
Lie there and /take it/, like a good boy, hands clenched in the sheets.
Something about that— about being /used/ for someone else’s pleasure, after he’s gotten his own— makes the same thing happen as the other day. He floats away, kind of, becoming full of fuzz and light and warmth and giddiness.
Dazai wraps his forearm over the top of his thighs,
Dazai wraps his forearm over the top of his thighs,
gripping his opposite leg to hold him firmly in place as he speeds up.
He’s saying something again and Chuuya /would/ try harder to comprehend it through the thick layer of cotton in his ears, but it’s in the same rough, broken, complimenting tone as before, so he figures it’s
He’s saying something again and Chuuya /would/ try harder to comprehend it through the thick layer of cotton in his ears, but it’s in the same rough, broken, complimenting tone as before, so he figures it’s
probably just the same sort of words.
He doesn’t know how long Dazai keeps up like that. He /thinks/ he came again with a weak cry, but at this point, his entire body feels suffused with so much pleasure that it’s hard to tell orgasm from build-up from comedown.
There /is/ a
He doesn’t know how long Dazai keeps up like that. He /thinks/ he came again with a weak cry, but at this point, his entire body feels suffused with so much pleasure that it’s hard to tell orgasm from build-up from comedown.
There /is/ a
point where Dazai gets brusingly rough with him,sinking his teeth into his calf and keeping him pinned with a snarl. Chuuya’s breaths get knocked out of him with each slam of his hips and—
In the hazy contentment, Chuuya finds himself aching for a /little/ more. To be /actually/
In the hazy contentment, Chuuya finds himself aching for a /little/ more. To be /actually/
fucked instead of his thighs but he can’t /articulate/ that right now, can’t only moan softly and shiver for more and hope that Dazai gets the message—
But when he stills with a long, drawn-out groan of his name, and néw warmth spills around his lower stomach, he can’t find it
But when he stills with a long, drawn-out groan of his name, and néw warmth spills around his lower stomach, he can’t find it
in himself to be disappointed or upset.
Dazai leans over him, panting, pressing sloppy kisses over his face with fond affection. He lowers his legs back down slowly, massaging the parts of his thighs that Chuuya can already tell are going to bruise.
The toy is coaxed out of
Dazai leans over him, panting, pressing sloppy kisses over his face with fond affection. He lowers his legs back down slowly, massaging the parts of his thighs that Chuuya can already tell are going to bruise.
The toy is coaxed out of
him gently, and Chuuya shudders when it slides out of him completely. He feels /empty/ now, almost, but the suffusing feeling of warmth still draped over him makes it better.
Dazai makes a humming noise, pressing their cheeks together. Uncoordinated, Chuuya wraps his arms around
Dazai makes a humming noise, pressing their cheeks together. Uncoordinated, Chuuya wraps his arms around
his neck and clings onto him with all the strength he has left.
Time passes, soupy and indistinct. Every moment feels like it lasts forever, heartbeat slow in his chest, but also pass by too quick. The hazy feeling fades but with the way Dazai is laying over top on him and
Time passes, soupy and indistinct. Every moment feels like it lasts forever, heartbeat slow in his chest, but also pass by too quick. The hazy feeling fades but with the way Dazai is laying over top on him and
half-crushing him underneath his weight, it doesn’t leave entirely.
At least, until Dazai starts to stir. “Baby,” he mumbles in his ear, quiet but sweet, “you have to come back now.”
Chuuya doesn’t know where he ‘went’ to in the first place, but he tucks his nose into his neck
At least, until Dazai starts to stir. “Baby,” he mumbles in his ear, quiet but sweet, “you have to come back now.”
Chuuya doesn’t know where he ‘went’ to in the first place, but he tucks his nose into his neck
and grumbles in protest.
He can hear the smile in Dazai’s voice as he says, “Aww, poor thing. I’m so mean to you, aren’t I? How terrible I must be to want to get you clean and warm.”
Humming, he cuddles a little closer. “Mhm,” he agrees, voice hoarse, “terrible.”
Dazai’s
He can hear the smile in Dazai’s voice as he says, “Aww, poor thing. I’m so mean to you, aren’t I? How terrible I must be to want to get you clean and warm.”
Humming, he cuddles a little closer. “Mhm,” he agrees, voice hoarse, “terrible.”
Dazai’s
laugh is quiet and sweet, blending seamlessly into the atmosphere. The sound makes a bubble of happiness swell up in Chuuya’s chest, popping pleasantly and showering him with warmth.
“Come on,” he urges again, pulling away and resisting Chuuya’s attempts to pull him back in,
“Come on,” he urges again, pulling away and resisting Chuuya’s attempts to pull him back in,
“You need to eat something, and drink something besides alcohol. We’re not going straight to bed this time, sleepy brat.”
Chuuya pouts. Pouts harder when he sees Dazai looking at him, like if he just looks pitiful enough he’ll let them cuddle to sleep.
It doesn’t work.
Chuuya pouts. Pouts harder when he sees Dazai looking at him, like if he just looks pitiful enough he’ll let them cuddle to sleep.
It doesn’t work.
Sighing, Chuuya gives in. Now that he’s talking and moving more, the fuzz is fading away. He still feels warm and pleasantly limp, but not in an overwhelming way. He can think again, even if he’d rather just return to mindlessness.
Maybe if he’s good, Dazai will help him get
Maybe if he’s good, Dazai will help him get
there again. He looks up at him with his softest puppy eyes, silently pleading. “Carry me?”
Dazai doesn’t even hesitate, swooping down to catch him in his arms with one smooth motion. He hauls him up, knees hooked around his hips and arms dangling over his shoulders.
Because
Dazai doesn’t even hesitate, swooping down to catch him in his arms with one smooth motion. He hauls him up, knees hooked around his hips and arms dangling over his shoulders.
Because
of how close they are, Chuuya’s chin propped up on his shoulder with his cheek pressed to his jaw, he hears his next words as a rumble.
“I’ve got you, Chuuya.”
—————— +
“I’ve got you, Chuuya.”
—————— +
For all the times Osamu claims to be a changed man, he really is the same depressed boy she’s known since they were kids. Not even his /style/ has changed.
Really. Almost /all/ of his furniture is black. A bad choice, considering his... /mutts/ and if he /ever/ let any sun in
Really. Almost /all/ of his furniture is black. A bad choice, considering his... /mutts/ and if he /ever/ let any sun in
here (what is he, a vampire? What’s with the blackout curtains?) then everything would be bleached!
Sighing, Sasaki pulls her phone out and dials one of the first options on the contact list. It is technically early— a little after 6am, she’s a sucker for early morning flights
Sighing, Sasaki pulls her phone out and dials one of the first options on the contact list. It is technically early— a little after 6am, she’s a sucker for early morning flights
because she likes to see the sun rise in the clouds— but she also knows Osamu has nothing close to a sleeping schedule, so the typical etiquette doesn’t really matter.
Surprisingly though, it rings twice before being sent to voicemail.
Shocked, she pulls her phone away to
Surprisingly though, it rings twice before being sent to voicemail.
Shocked, she pulls her phone away to
stare at the screen in disbelief.
Did he just /decline/ her call? What if she was having an emergency? What if Shuuji was /hurt/?
Granted, he doesn’t know—yet— that she came back with their son to Yokohama, but /still/.
She presses the call button again, tapping her foot on
Did he just /decline/ her call? What if she was having an emergency? What if Shuuji was /hurt/?
Granted, he doesn’t know—yet— that she came back with their son to Yokohama, but /still/.
She presses the call button again, tapping her foot on
the tiles impatiently. It rings twice, and she /almost/ thinks that it’s about to go to voicemail again when—
The line clicks and Osamu’s voice comes through, deliciously warm and raspy with sleep. “It is 6am, Sasaki, why are you calling?”
He sounds like he’s trying to be
The line clicks and Osamu’s voice comes through, deliciously warm and raspy with sleep. “It is 6am, Sasaki, why are you calling?”
He sounds like he’s trying to be
/quiet/, on the verge of whispering.
(He’s trying not to wake up Chuuya, who’s buried face-first in his chest and snoring peacefully.)
“Good morning to you too,” Sasaki sniffs, a little irritated by how abrupt he sounds. But when he sounds like /that/, she can’t stay mad for
(He’s trying not to wake up Chuuya, who’s buried face-first in his chest and snoring peacefully.)
“Good morning to you too,” Sasaki sniffs, a little irritated by how abrupt he sounds. But when he sounds like /that/, she can’t stay mad for
long. “I’m calling you to tell you that Shuuji and I made it back to Yokohama safely. If you cared, that is.”
“Great,” Osamu grumbles, “I’m glad you two didn’t die in a freak accident. Is that all?”
Far from it actually. She wishes she didn’t have to do this over the phone,
“Great,” Osamu grumbles, “I’m glad you two didn’t die in a freak accident. Is that all?”
Far from it actually. She wishes she didn’t have to do this over the phone,
but it /cannot/ wait until he returns from whatever city he’d flounced off to. “No. You also have a few...pests at your house that we need to talk about.”
“Pests?” Osamu repeats, and he sounds more awake. The delightful rough edge to his voice is still there though, and she
“Pests?” Osamu repeats, and he sounds more awake. The delightful rough edge to his voice is still there though, and she
wishes she could hear it in /person/, grating in her ear. “Do... you mean my /dogs/?”
Then, “are you /at my house?/“
(He’s still getting used to this whole sleeping deeply for hours thing, and his mind is struggling to catch up. He was having a /fantastic/ dream of him and
Then, “are you /at my house?/“
(He’s still getting used to this whole sleeping deeply for hours thing, and his mind is struggling to catch up. He was having a /fantastic/ dream of him and
Chuuya on the beach somewhere. He was feeding him mangoes.)
“Yes, I’m at your house. I decided to move to Yokohama like you suggested—“ (he did /not/ suggest that actually) “— and I was dropping Shuuji off. I was also hoping you would let me stay for a few days while my new
“Yes, I’m at your house. I decided to move to Yokohama like you suggested—“ (he did /not/ suggest that actually) “— and I was dropping Shuuji off. I was also hoping you would let me stay for a few days while my new
house is getting ready.”
The contractor said it’d actually be a few /weeks/, but Osamu doesn’t need to know that right now.
“No. Get a hotel.”
She wrinkles her nose. Those rooms are always so ugly and /nasty/. She saw that one TV show, the one that went around to all the
The contractor said it’d actually be a few /weeks/, but Osamu doesn’t need to know that right now.
“No. Get a hotel.”
She wrinkles her nose. Those rooms are always so ugly and /nasty/. She saw that one TV show, the one that went around to all the
hotels and revealed just how stained, and infested and /disgusting/ they were. She’s been traumatized ever since, really. “I checked all the hotels in the area,” she pouts, “they’re packed full.”
They’re not, but all the luxury rooms are taken, and she’d rather die than sleep
They’re not, but all the luxury rooms are taken, and she’d rather die than sleep
on mid-level sheets that are prolly so stained with fluids they can never come clean.
Osamu snorts softly, and /damn/, if that tiny little sound, so /different/ from how cold he’s been with her lately, makes her heart beat harder in her chest. “I’m sure I can arrange something.
Osamu snorts softly, and /damn/, if that tiny little sound, so /different/ from how cold he’s been with her lately, makes her heart beat harder in her chest. “I’m sure I can arrange something.
Give me a few hours.”
/God/, the way he throws around his power and money like that, like rules don’t apply to him, is /sexy/, when when it’s being used against her.
“We can talk about,” she sighs, deciding not to push it. The trick with Osamu is to know when to stand your
/God/, the way he throws around his power and money like that, like rules don’t apply to him, is /sexy/, when when it’s being used against her.
“We can talk about,” she sighs, deciding not to push it. The trick with Osamu is to know when to stand your
ground, and when to shelve your argument to bring it up later, when he’s in a different mood. “But the /real/ problem is your... dogs. They’re so /aggressive/. I can’t believe you would let these wild /beasts/ near our son. What if they hurt him? What if they hurt /me/?”
(Dazai
(Dazai
doesn’t like the way she says /our son/. Like there’s /commitment/ there, like he promised her something, like there’s an emotional connection that he’s ignoring.)
“Really, I would feel much safer if you got rid of them. There’s a /wonderful/ shelter a few streets down.”
“Really, I would feel much safer if you got rid of them. There’s a /wonderful/ shelter a few streets down.”
(The absurdity of that statement gives Dazai a pause, and he actually stares up at the ceiling for a long moment, wondering if he’s having some strange lucid dream.)
“Are you seriously suggesting I give my dogs up for adoption for doing their jobs?” Osamu asks, and he really
“Are you seriously suggesting I give my dogs up for adoption for doing their jobs?” Osamu asks, and he really
shouldnt sound as disbelieving as he does. He’s been the one raising these feral /beasts/, he should’ve known she wouldn’t stand for this. They nearly bit of Shuuji’s fingers when he was pushing them in their kennels!
Aggressive animals should be put down. Keeps the bloodline
Aggressive animals should be put down. Keeps the bloodline
pure.
“Are their jobs to hurt your /family/, Osamu?” She asks, appalled.
As if understanding her, the sandy-haired dog bares its teeth with a rumbling snarl. Daring her to open the cage again.
“When you’re in my house uninvited and I’m not there to tell them otherwise? Yes.”
“Are their jobs to hurt your /family/, Osamu?” She asks, appalled.
As if understanding her, the sandy-haired dog bares its teeth with a rumbling snarl. Daring her to open the cage again.
“When you’re in my house uninvited and I’m not there to tell them otherwise? Yes.”
She /does/ note that he doesn’t object to her calling him family. It’s progress to repairing their relationship, even if small. Baby steps, as it were. “Well,” she sighs, “I’m just worried. I mean, what if they get loose and go on a rampage? Yuki looks like she wants to eat me.”
“/Yoko/,” Osamu stresses, like she’s supposed to care about the name of a mean, flea-bitten mutt, “is incredibly well trained. Both of them are. They aren’t ‘going on a rampage’. They’re protecting my house, like they’re /supposed/ to.”
She makes a face at the bitch in question.
She makes a face at the bitch in question.
Yuki snaps at the cage.
(Dazai /has/ noticed that Yoko has gotten a lot more protective, ever since that... /incident/ happened while he was gone. She’s always been defensive, but now it’s almost on another level. Like instead of being given a target to defend, she’s /chosen/
(Dazai /has/ noticed that Yoko has gotten a lot more protective, ever since that... /incident/ happened while he was gone. She’s always been defensive, but now it’s almost on another level. Like instead of being given a target to defend, she’s /chosen/
a target for herself, and will now defend it with her life.
He can’t lie, the fact that Yoko loves Chuuya so unconditionally and is often his first protector makes him feel warm and fuzzy.)
“I just want you to be careful, because if i were anyone else, animal control would’ve
He can’t lie, the fact that Yoko loves Chuuya so unconditionally and is often his first protector makes him feel warm and fuzzy.)
“I just want you to be careful, because if i were anyone else, animal control would’ve
been called, and then who knows what would’ve happened? They’d probably be put down, since they’re so aggressive.”
“Let me be clear,” Osamu says, voice dropping into something hard and cutting, “those dogs won’t hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it— and if you so much as /touch/
“Let me be clear,” Osamu says, voice dropping into something hard and cutting, “those dogs won’t hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it— and if you so much as /touch/
them, I will show you the meaning of anger.”
Fine. Like she said, the trick is to know when you let your battles drop. They can talk about this again later.
She smiles pleasantly at Yuki. There’s only room for one woman in Osamu’s bed and that’s /her/. She’ll get her way.
Fine. Like she said, the trick is to know when you let your battles drop. They can talk about this again later.
She smiles pleasantly at Yuki. There’s only room for one woman in Osamu’s bed and that’s /her/. She’ll get her way.
“Fine, we can talk about it later.” (They will absolutely not be talking about it later,if Dazai has anything to say about it.) “But there’s another thing.”
“What /now/?”
“There’s a cat outside. Ugly thing, covered in dirt and grease. I tried to get it to go away but it won’t.”
“What /now/?”
“There’s a cat outside. Ugly thing, covered in dirt and grease. I tried to get it to go away but it won’t.”
(It’s the same stray cat Chuuya had seen on the car ride to their first date. As soon as the weather had started to cool off a little bit, the little gremlin had threatened to stop kissing Dazai and wouldn’t stop sending him sad faces until he agreed to start putting out food for
it.
Dazai isn’t a cat person, really. They’re too moody for him, and he prefers animals that can be trained.
But there is a lot to be said for how endearing it is to watch the distrustful look in those green eyes slowly start to fade away, and know that you’re earning the
Dazai isn’t a cat person, really. They’re too moody for him, and he prefers animals that can be trained.
But there is a lot to be said for how endearing it is to watch the distrustful look in those green eyes slowly start to fade away, and know that you’re earning the
love and trust of an animal that clearly doesn’t see a lot in humans.
Sure, the poor thing /is/ covered in dirt and grease. But he also has /vivid/ green eyes, and he likes the spot under his chin scratched, and Chuuya always gets so happy when Dazai sends him news or pictures.)
Sure, the poor thing /is/ covered in dirt and grease. But he also has /vivid/ green eyes, and he likes the spot under his chin scratched, and Chuuya always gets so happy when Dazai sends him news or pictures.)
“I’ve been feeding him. Leave him alone, he won’t do anything,” Osamu sighs. He sounds so exasperated.
Sasaki wrinkles her nose again. Why is he defending some flea-bitten, half-starved cat? He’s going to get grease all over their stairs outside, and then she’ll have to clean it
Sasaki wrinkles her nose again. Why is he defending some flea-bitten, half-starved cat? He’s going to get grease all over their stairs outside, and then she’ll have to clean it
up. And who knows what she’ll do if the thing brings /pests/ into their home. Don’t cats carry influenza or something?
“Well, he already hissed at me, first off. Secondly, this neighborhood is much too nice for something like him. He ruins the whole image. He needs to go.”
“Well, he already hissed at me, first off. Secondly, this neighborhood is much too nice for something like him. He ruins the whole image. He needs to go.”
“He’s a stray cat Sasaki, I don’t think he cares about ‘image’. I feed him, so he sticks around.”
She opens her mouth—
“And I’m going to /keep/ feeding him, so don’t even try to tell me to stop. Just look at him, you know he needs some love and affection. Maybe he’ll let you
She opens her mouth—
“And I’m going to /keep/ feeding him, so don’t even try to tell me to stop. Just look at him, you know he needs some love and affection. Maybe he’ll let you
pet him, if you offer him some treats. There’s some in the storage room, since you’re already there.”
He sounds more resigned than anything, but at least he’s not getting angry or yelling at her to leave. She can work with resigned, she can work with tired.
“Okay, darling,”
He sounds more resigned than anything, but at least he’s not getting angry or yelling at her to leave. She can work with resigned, she can work with tired.
“Okay, darling,”
she sighs, standing up to leave the room. The dogs in the kennel growl at her, but she ignores them. “When are you coming home?”
(The way she says that, like she’s really asking when he’s coming back to /her/, makes Dazai feel uncomfortable. But they’ve been on the phone for
(The way she says that, like she’s really asking when he’s coming back to /her/, makes Dazai feel uncomfortable. But they’ve been on the phone for
ten minutes now, and although he’s tried to keep quiet, Chuuya is starting to stir on his chest. He doesn’t seem awake yet, but Dazai /really/ doesn’t want to bring up his ex he had a kid with when he was too young on their last full day of vacation.
Besides, he doesn’t want to
Besides, he doesn’t want to
keep talking about his animals at six in the morning. He just wants to go back to bed.)
“I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon.”
Good,that gives her enough time to make some plans about what to say. And gives her enough time for Shuuji to show her around the city. “We’ll talk then?”
“I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon.”
Good,that gives her enough time to make some plans about what to say. And gives her enough time for Shuuji to show her around the city. “We’ll talk then?”
“Yeah,” Osamu sighs, “we’ll talk then, I guess. I’m hanging up now.”
He does so without another word, and /usually/ the dial tone would have her upset, but today...
Today, it feels like victory, so she lets it settle as she leaves the kennel room.
She makes sure to lock the
He does so without another word, and /usually/ the dial tone would have her upset, but today...
Today, it feels like victory, so she lets it settle as she leaves the kennel room.
She makes sure to lock the
door behind her, because you can really never be too safe, especially with rabid mutts in your home.
She’ll have Shuuji bring them water sometime later, if she remembers to tell him.
(Dazai, for his part, immediately shoves his phone underneath the pillow and wraps his arm
She’ll have Shuuji bring them water sometime later, if she remembers to tell him.
(Dazai, for his part, immediately shoves his phone underneath the pillow and wraps his arm
around his cuddly little chibi to adjust him into a more comfortable position.
He falls back asleep in only a few minutes, a record.
Chuuya, on the other hand, likes awake on his chest for hours, feeling vaguely sick at the idea of Dazai going home to someone else.)
—————— +
He falls back asleep in only a few minutes, a record.
Chuuya, on the other hand, likes awake on his chest for hours, feeling vaguely sick at the idea of Dazai going home to someone else.)
—————— +
The restaurant is nice. Classy, atmospheric, with actual live music played by a trio of stringed musicians near the middle of the lobby. There’s candles everywhere, hanging chandeliers in orange and white, shivering daintily in the air.
This is probably one of the first times
This is probably one of the first times
that Chuuya feels like he /belongs/. His outfit is expensive, revealing but in a /classy/ way, matching the other people in the restaurant. His makeup is flawless,and he’s sipping red wine like a diva. He /fits/ finally, like a rock being polished until it’s finally pretty enough
to be shown alongside the other gems in the collection.
For his part, Dazai is wearing most of a suit, minus the jacket. He looks perfectly done up, straight off a fashion magazine, a wet dream come to life.
Chuuya wishes he could enjoy it. Any of it.
But whenever he /tries/
For his part, Dazai is wearing most of a suit, minus the jacket. He looks perfectly done up, straight off a fashion magazine, a wet dream come to life.
Chuuya wishes he could enjoy it. Any of it.
But whenever he /tries/
he remembers the end of the phone call Dazai had this morning—
/ I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. Yeah, we’ll talk then, I guess. /
Granted, he didn’t hear the conversation before, but it’s pretty clear Dazai was trying to hide it from him. As soon as Chuuya started to
/ I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. Yeah, we’ll talk then, I guess. /
Granted, he didn’t hear the conversation before, but it’s pretty clear Dazai was trying to hide it from him. As soon as Chuuya started to
wake up, he cut off the call.
He’s not saying he’s entitled to hear all of Dazai’s conversations, so he can’t /complain/, it’s just—
He thought he was /more/ than just a dirty little secret. Maybe he shouldn’t have, because they still haven’t had a real conversation about
He’s not saying he’s entitled to hear all of Dazai’s conversations, so he can’t /complain/, it’s just—
He thought he was /more/ than just a dirty little secret. Maybe he shouldn’t have, because they still haven’t had a real conversation about
their relationship but—
You know, he really thought this was an actual, /real/ vacation and not some runaway trip to hide from the person Dazai’s going home too.
Chuuya’s assuming it’s Shuuji’s mother, based on context and the feminine voice he vaguely heard, but again, he’s
You know, he really thought this was an actual, /real/ vacation and not some runaway trip to hide from the person Dazai’s going home too.
Chuuya’s assuming it’s Shuuji’s mother, based on context and the feminine voice he vaguely heard, but again, he’s
not sure.
He’s not sure about anything anymore.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re mad at me, or should I start guessing?”
Chuuya starts a little, looking away from the patch of wall he was zoning out on, and glancing at Dazai.
He looks grim, almost, or maybe just tired,
He’s not sure about anything anymore.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re mad at me, or should I start guessing?”
Chuuya starts a little, looking away from the patch of wall he was zoning out on, and glancing at Dazai.
He looks grim, almost, or maybe just tired,
and Chuuya hates that he’s adding to it in any way.
“What?”
Dazai sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, that sounded accusatory. What I meant was— you seem upset. You’ve barely talked to me all day, you’ve been zoning out, and you’ve hardly touched your food /or/
“What?”
Dazai sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, that sounded accusatory. What I meant was— you seem upset. You’ve barely talked to me all day, you’ve been zoning out, and you’ve hardly touched your food /or/
your wine. If there’s something bothering you, I’d like to know so that I can either help with whatever it is.”
That’s fair. It also makes Chuuya feel even /worse/ because he tried to be subtle about the way he was feeling, but he can’t even do that right.
He runs his finger
That’s fair. It also makes Chuuya feel even /worse/ because he tried to be subtle about the way he was feeling, but he can’t even do that right.
He runs his finger
along the edge of his wineglass, circling it over and over, the same way he feels twisted up and knotted together on the inside. “I had a good time on vacation,” he starts, unsure of what exactly to say.
What does he start with? How does he take these feelings and untangle them
What does he start with? How does he take these feelings and untangle them
in a way that they can be understood by him or someone else?
“I did too,” Dazai says, though his reassuring smile falls flat. “It’s not over yet though. We still have all morning tomorrow.”
“It is over though, isn’t it? You’re going back home to Shuuji’s mother, and I’m
“I did too,” Dazai says, though his reassuring smile falls flat. “It’s not over yet though. We still have all morning tomorrow.”
“It is over though, isn’t it? You’re going back home to Shuuji’s mother, and I’m
going back to college,” Chuuya mutters, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice and failing.
When he sees Dazai’s confused look, he elaborates, “I heard your phone call this morning.”
“Ah,” Dazai says, confusion clearing up and turning into something like bemusement
When he sees Dazai’s confused look, he elaborates, “I heard your phone call this morning.”
“Ah,” Dazai says, confusion clearing up and turning into something like bemusement
and regret, “How much of it, exactly, did you hear?”
Chuuya shrugs. “The last minute or so. Does it matter? I heard you say you were going home to her. Which is fine, by the way, I just—“
Dazai interrupts him. “It does matter. Do you know what we were arguing about before I
Chuuya shrugs. “The last minute or so. Does it matter? I heard you say you were going home to her. Which is fine, by the way, I just—“
Dazai interrupts him. “It does matter. Do you know what we were arguing about before I
said that?”
Arguing about?
“She hated that cat of yours. The stray, the one you coerced me into feeding? Said he was ugly and needed to leave. Do you know what I said?”
They were arguing about the cat? She really said he was ugly? Why would that be an argument?
“I told her
Arguing about?
“She hated that cat of yours. The stray, the one you coerced me into feeding? Said he was ugly and needed to leave. Do you know what I said?”
They were arguing about the cat? She really said he was ugly? Why would that be an argument?
“I told her
to leave my cat alone. Not because he’s mine and I’m attached— because he’s /yours/. You wanted me to take of him, and I said I would.”
Oh. That’s so /sweet/, and Chuuya simultaneously feels /so/ relieved and also /stupid/ because—
He really heard a few sentences and just ran
Oh. That’s so /sweet/, and Chuuya simultaneously feels /so/ relieved and also /stupid/ because—
He really heard a few sentences and just ran
with it, didn’t he? He didn’t even /ask/, he just /assumed/ that—
Assumed a lot of things, really.
“And before that, she wanted me to give the dogs up for adoption. And before /that/, she showed up at my house without my knowledge, and the first time I heard about it was with
Assumed a lot of things, really.
“And before that, she wanted me to give the dogs up for adoption. And before /that/, she showed up at my house without my knowledge, and the first time I heard about it was with
a phone call at six in the morning. I was tired and you were asleep, and I didn’t want to talk about putting my animals to sleep anymore, so yes, I told her that I would be home tomorrow and we could talk then.”
On second thought, maybe it’s a good thing they aren’t in a
On second thought, maybe it’s a good thing they aren’t in a
relationship, because Chuuya just keeps fucking it up, doesn’t he? He always believes the things he /hears/ instead of believing Dazai, and he just makes it worse.
They could’ve had this whole day to be happy, but Chuuya ruined it by jumping to conclusions.
“I’m sorry,” he
They could’ve had this whole day to be happy, but Chuuya ruined it by jumping to conclusions.
“I’m sorry,” he
mutters, looking away and burning with shame and embarrassment, “I just—“
“Don’t be sorry,” Dazai cuts him off again, and /why/ does he sound so sympathetic when it was Chuuya who messed up, once again, “I could’ve mentioned it earlier, but I didn’t. But baby, you have to /tell/
“Don’t be sorry,” Dazai cuts him off again, and /why/ does he sound so sympathetic when it was Chuuya who messed up, once again, “I could’ve mentioned it earlier, but I didn’t. But baby, you have to /tell/
me these things. You have to talk to me if something upsets you.”
The idea of that is somewhat of a new concept to Chuuya. If he ever told his family about something that upset him, it usually ended up in over reactions or him getting a lecture because of something he did that
The idea of that is somewhat of a new concept to Chuuya. If he ever told his family about something that upset him, it usually ended up in over reactions or him getting a lecture because of something he did that
he shouldn’t have done.
In his family, it was just easier to solve his problems alone. Sharing them with someone to split the burden is harder than it seems, after years of handling it alone.
“I know, I’m sorry,” he says again, feeling so little and stupid and small. Like he’s
In his family, it was just easier to solve his problems alone. Sharing them with someone to split the burden is harder than it seems, after years of handling it alone.
“I know, I’m sorry,” he says again, feeling so little and stupid and small. Like he’s
a kid again, in the worst way. “I just didn’t know how to say anything and I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me or anything.”
“Obligated?” Dazai repeats, sounding almost offended. His hand has tightened on his own wine glass, like he’s fighting the urge to be upset.
“Obligated?” Dazai repeats, sounding almost offended. His hand has tightened on his own wine glass, like he’s fighting the urge to be upset.
When Chuuya doesn’t continue, tongue-tied with the fear that he’s going to make things /worse/ again by saying the wrong thing, Dazai heaves a small sigh and stands up.
Wait, is he leaving? Not like this, please just—
He comes around the table, crouching down besides his
Wait, is he leaving? Not like this, please just—
He comes around the table, crouching down besides his
chair. Reaching out with one hand, he circles his wrist with his fingers and tugs his hand.
“Look at me, Chuuya.”
He does, for a moment, out of the corner of his eye, feeling too much embarrassment to look for long. When his gaze flits away, Dazai gives a small snort.
“If
“Look at me, Chuuya.”
He does, for a moment, out of the corner of his eye, feeling too much embarrassment to look for long. When his gaze flits away, Dazai gives a small snort.
“If
you don’t look at me, I’m going to pretend I’m proposing and make a /scene/—“
That gets Chuuya’s attention because he does /not/ want everyone’s eyes on him right now. He feels raw and vulnerable enough even with just Dazai looking at him, he doesn’t need the /whole/ restaurant
That gets Chuuya’s attention because he does /not/ want everyone’s eyes on him right now. He feels raw and vulnerable enough even with just Dazai looking at him, he doesn’t need the /whole/ restaurant
to be fawning over him too.
His eyes snap down, meeting Dazai’s warm, bottomless gaze, and stay there.
“There you are,” Dazai murmurs, “I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”
Chuuya nods, nervous.
“Baby, I /adore/ you.”
His eyes snap down, meeting Dazai’s warm, bottomless gaze, and stay there.
“There you are,” Dazai murmurs, “I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”
Chuuya nods, nervous.
“Baby, I /adore/ you.”
Chuuya’s eyes go wide. He /felt/ that way when he was with Dazai but—
/Hearing/ it, in such plain words that even the ugly little voices in the back of his head can’t tear it apart or distort the meaning—
It feels /so/ good.
Smiling softly at him, that lopsided dimple
/Hearing/ it, in such plain words that even the ugly little voices in the back of his head can’t tear it apart or distort the meaning—
It feels /so/ good.
Smiling softly at him, that lopsided dimple
coming back into play, Dazai continues, “And I know these things can seem scary and hard, but I promise you it’s not because I’m here with you. I’ve /got/ you, chibi, so just trust that and work with me.”
He raises the hand still in his grasp, flipping it over so he can press a
He raises the hand still in his grasp, flipping it over so he can press a
kiss to the center of his palm. Chuuya’s fingers curl naturally around his cheek, cupping his face.
It makes his heart clench in his chest when Dazai leans into it, nuzzling his cheek into his hand.
“I have a past with Sasaki, and it’s never going to go away. She’s never
It makes his heart clench in his chest when Dazai leans into it, nuzzling his cheek into his hand.
“I have a past with Sasaki, and it’s never going to go away. She’s never
going to go away, and I think you can understand that.”
He /does/, in a way, even if it fills him with a seething jealousy that someone /else/ knew Dazai so intimately and gave him something he could /never/ give him. Even if his relationship with Shuuji is complicated, that’s
He /does/, in a way, even if it fills him with a seething jealousy that someone /else/ knew Dazai so intimately and gave him something he could /never/ give him. Even if his relationship with Shuuji is complicated, that’s
still his son.
That’s still /part/ of him.
“But she’s my past, baby, and you? You could be my future, if you wanted. You could be my person, and you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else, because I’d be yours too.”
Feeling dumbstruck, embarrassingly close to tears—good
That’s still /part/ of him.
“But she’s my past, baby, and you? You could be my future, if you wanted. You could be my person, and you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else, because I’d be yours too.”
Feeling dumbstruck, embarrassingly close to tears—good
ones this time— Chuuya uses the hand on his cheek to pull him up.
Dazai is big enough and tall enough that Chuuya wouldn’t be able to move him if he didn’t want to be moved. But he /always/ gives so easily underneath his fingertips, and there’s never been a time Chuuya has felt
Dazai is big enough and tall enough that Chuuya wouldn’t be able to move him if he didn’t want to be moved. But he /always/ gives so easily underneath his fingertips, and there’s never been a time Chuuya has felt
overpowered or threatened by the size of him.
This kiss is initiated by Chuuya, no need to ask for consent, because it’s freely given by his hand on his cheek and the small smile on Dazai’s face.
It’s soft, slow, explorative. They’ve kissed dozens of times before, maybe even
This kiss is initiated by Chuuya, no need to ask for consent, because it’s freely given by his hand on his cheek and the small smile on Dazai’s face.
It’s soft, slow, explorative. They’ve kissed dozens of times before, maybe even
hundreds, but now there’s a new /layer/ to it, a new level to it. Because now they’re starting to understand each other, coming together a bit more and fitting their rough edges together more securely.
“So is that a yes? To be mine?” Dazai eventually mumbles against his lips,
“So is that a yes? To be mine?” Dazai eventually mumbles against his lips,
not pulling away even though he’s in an awkward, half-crouched position that must be starting to hurt.
And Chuuya—
This is his first time being asked, so he wants to /hear/ if, breathless with excitement. “Your what?”
“Boyfriend. Or partner, if you like that better,” Dazai
And Chuuya—
This is his first time being asked, so he wants to /hear/ if, breathless with excitement. “Your what?”
“Boyfriend. Or partner, if you like that better,” Dazai
says, easily, like he’s not rocking Chuuya’s world. “Or I guess we could probably go for straight up sugar baby at this point—.”
Chuuya cuts him off with another kiss, because /god/,he can be so ridiculous sometimes and he doesn’t want the reverent moment to fade into silliness.
Chuuya cuts him off with another kiss, because /god/,he can be so ridiculous sometimes and he doesn’t want the reverent moment to fade into silliness.
“Yes,” he mutters, follows it up with another kiss. “Yes,” chased by another kiss. A thousand tiny little yes’s, for this life and every other one, murmured into the quiet space between their lips, sealed with a thousand more kisses.
By the time they start to separate, they
By the time they start to separate, they
/have/ made somewhat of a scene. The other guests in the restaurant are staring, whispering among themselves. Some of them look genuinely nice, unsure if they should be more loudly happy about whatever happened between them.
Others look cross, frowning because of the age
Others look cross, frowning because of the age
difference or maybe because they’re both men, or maybe just because they’ve interrupted the flow of dinner.
It doesn’t matter. He has Dazai, warm and solid and /good/ in his arms, staring up at him with eyes that practically glow, warm pools of honey that reflect light back at
It doesn’t matter. He has Dazai, warm and solid and /good/ in his arms, staring up at him with eyes that practically glow, warm pools of honey that reflect light back at
him.
(He doesn’t know this yet, but Dazai has /rarely/ put himself or his feelings on the line like this for anyone, and it’s only Chuuya who gets to see him so soft and lovesick.
Chuuya is the only one he ever looks at like this.)
“If I let you go, are you actually going to
(He doesn’t know this yet, but Dazai has /rarely/ put himself or his feelings on the line like this for anyone, and it’s only Chuuya who gets to see him so soft and lovesick.
Chuuya is the only one he ever looks at like this.)
“If I let you go, are you actually going to
eat anything?”
Chuuya /could/ lie and say that he will, but truthfully, he’s so full of /emotion/, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get anything inside him. Doesn’t know how he’s suppose to have air in his lungs or food in his stomach, when his heart feels full to bursting.
Chuuya /could/ lie and say that he will, but truthfully, he’s so full of /emotion/, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get anything inside him. Doesn’t know how he’s suppose to have air in his lungs or food in his stomach, when his heart feels full to bursting.
Smiling, Chuuya shakes his head. He’s not hungry anymore, hasn’t been for most of the day.
Dazai sighs heavily, but his smile never wavers. “What am I going to do with you?”
He’s heard that question before, in a different context, and his answer is the same, if slightly more
Dazai sighs heavily, but his smile never wavers. “What am I going to do with you?”
He’s heard that question before, in a different context, and his answer is the same, if slightly more
censored because they’re in /public/ and everybody is staring at them too closely for comfort. “Take me back to the room.”
He can tell Dazai gets it by the way his eyes widen and his nostrils flare, expression sliding into that ever-growing /hunger/, the sense of power and
He can tell Dazai gets it by the way his eyes widen and his nostrils flare, expression sliding into that ever-growing /hunger/, the sense of power and
control crackling slightly in the air around him. “Get moving, then.”
It takes Chuuya only a few moments to down the rest of his wine— he might not be hungry, but he’d never let a good wine to waste— and then sneakily swallow most of /Dazai’s/ cup too while Dazai heads to the
It takes Chuuya only a few moments to down the rest of his wine— he might not be hungry, but he’d never let a good wine to waste— and then sneakily swallow most of /Dazai’s/ cup too while Dazai heads to the
front to pay. The man barely drinks wine anyways, Chuuya was just doing him a /favor/.
Once again, Dazai calls them an Uber instead of making them ride the train, which he’s thankful for, because if he had to spend another thirty minutes pressed up against his /boyfriend/ in
Once again, Dazai calls them an Uber instead of making them ride the train, which he’s thankful for, because if he had to spend another thirty minutes pressed up against his /boyfriend/ in
public with other people watching, he’s going to go insane.
/Boyfriend/. The title itself makes him feel giddy, and rolling the word around on his tongue until he feels drunk on it, saying it again and again in his head until every syllable feels paired with some part of Dazai,
/Boyfriend/. The title itself makes him feel giddy, and rolling the word around on his tongue until he feels drunk on it, saying it again and again in his head until every syllable feels paired with some part of Dazai,
his eyes, his lips, his shoulders, his /hands/, until the word doesn’t have /meaning/ unless it means Dazai.
The ride feels like forever, but too short at the same time.
And when they /finally/ get to their room, and Chuuya ends up pressed against the wall with his legs
The ride feels like forever, but too short at the same time.
And when they /finally/ get to their room, and Chuuya ends up pressed against the wall with his legs
wrapped around his waist and his hands in his hair—
It’s different. Not only because of the emotional attachment has been acknowledged and /reciprocated/ but also because there’s a sense of /permanence/ now.
Before, it was almost frantic, driven by the desperate need to feel
It’s different. Not only because of the emotional attachment has been acknowledged and /reciprocated/ but also because there’s a sense of /permanence/ now.
Before, it was almost frantic, driven by the desperate need to feel
as much as possible, as quickly as possible, because neither of them knew when it would /end/. Didnt know if /that/ time would be the last time, or the one after that, didn’t know when they’d wake up and everything would be over.
But now they know they /are/ going to come back
But now they know they /are/ going to come back
to eachother, they are going to find eachother again and again—
It makes it easy to take their time.
Chuuya doesn’t know how long they spend in the entrance way, being kissed with long, heavy, drugging kisses that taste like happiness itself. It feels like there’s a seed
It makes it easy to take their time.
Chuuya doesn’t know how long they spend in the entrance way, being kissed with long, heavy, drugging kisses that taste like happiness itself. It feels like there’s a seed
inside him, full of life and heat, and each kiss waters it, makes it grow. Roots twining around his ribs and down into his stomach, until he feels irrevocably changed by it, a flowering bloom cultivated and kept by Dazai.
He tugs on his hair, tilting his head a little to get a
He tugs on his hair, tilting his head a little to get a
better angle. Dazai’s tongue slides over his bottom lip, familiar.
With a pleased sigh, Chuuya opens up for him, inviting him inside. Their tongues tangle together, rub against eachother wetly. The roof of his mouth gets the metal ball of his piercing dragged over it again and
With a pleased sigh, Chuuya opens up for him, inviting him inside. Their tongues tangle together, rub against eachother wetly. The roof of his mouth gets the metal ball of his piercing dragged over it again and
again until he’s gasping lightly at the sensation.
It’s not frantic but it’s /hot/, and Chuuya doesn’t realize how affected he was until Dazai slowly sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to nibble on it indulgently, and something /shifts/.
The other times? /Those/ were forest
It’s not frantic but it’s /hot/, and Chuuya doesn’t realize how affected he was until Dazai slowly sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to nibble on it indulgently, and something /shifts/.
The other times? /Those/ were forest
fires. Hot and quick and burning everything in their path, wild and uncontrolled.
This? /This/ is tectonic plates, the shifting of the earth itself, miles of molten magma churning and changing the planet in it’s entirety, changing /Chuuya/, foundations melting beneath him.
This? /This/ is tectonic plates, the shifting of the earth itself, miles of molten magma churning and changing the planet in it’s entirety, changing /Chuuya/, foundations melting beneath him.
He gasps when Dazai sinks his teeth in, arching into him. Each touch feels like it’s slowly peeling away at a layer of composure, making him mindless and needy.
“Bed,” he demands breathlessly, tightening his legs and rocking his hips to accentuate his request. When his erection,
“Bed,” he demands breathlessly, tightening his legs and rocking his hips to accentuate his request. When his erection,
not neglected but surprisingly hard, meets Dazai’s stomach, it sends shockwaves against him.
Dazai presses him harder against the wall in response, rolling his /own/ hips upward, the bulge in his pants sliding /teasingly/ over the swell of his ass, so hot Chuuya feels scorched
Dazai presses him harder against the wall in response, rolling his /own/ hips upward, the bulge in his pants sliding /teasingly/ over the swell of his ass, so hot Chuuya feels scorched
by it.
He wants it. Wants it so fucking bad, he’ll do anything to get it and /now/ it feels like he finally might /get it/, like Dazai might finally take mercy on him and /fuck him/.
Effortlessly, he lifts him away from the wall and heads to the bedroom, a casual show of
He wants it. Wants it so fucking bad, he’ll do anything to get it and /now/ it feels like he finally might /get it/, like Dazai might finally take mercy on him and /fuck him/.
Effortlessly, he lifts him away from the wall and heads to the bedroom, a casual show of
strength that is ridiculously attractive.
He never stops kissing him either, deeper and deeper, breathing hot in his mouth, pure liquid lust being poured down his throat with each slide of his tongue piercing.
Dazai lowers him down, bearing down after him and pressing him into
He never stops kissing him either, deeper and deeper, breathing hot in his mouth, pure liquid lust being poured down his throat with each slide of his tongue piercing.
Dazai lowers him down, bearing down after him and pressing him into
the mattress with his body. He takes up the entire world, and nothing else exists besides him over him, on top of him, settling between his thighs like he belongs there.
There's a second when he leans away to grab a bottle of lube from the drawer, and the sight of /that/ is so
There's a second when he leans away to grab a bottle of lube from the drawer, and the sight of /that/ is so
exciting that Chuuya is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and dragging him back down into a hard, rough kiss.
Usually their sex life is led by Dazai, who initiates and orchestrates /most/ of what happens between them. Chuuya is usually too overwhelmed by pleasure and need
Usually their sex life is led by Dazai, who initiates and orchestrates /most/ of what happens between them. Chuuya is usually too overwhelmed by pleasure and need
that he can only lie there and /take it/ and try to survive. Half the time Dazai barely even gets undressed himself.
But not this time. He's still lucid, still in control of himself, and he /needs/ more skin contact, more heat, more friction, and he's /not/ going to wait until
But not this time. He's still lucid, still in control of himself, and he /needs/ more skin contact, more heat, more friction, and he's /not/ going to wait until
Dazai decides to do it himself.
He dips one hand underneath the collar of his shirt, raking his nails down his back until Dazai is growling against him in approval, surging forward to kiss him /harder/. His other hand comes between them, fumbling at the buttons of his shirt.
He dips one hand underneath the collar of his shirt, raking his nails down his back until Dazai is growling against him in approval, surging forward to kiss him /harder/. His other hand comes between them, fumbling at the buttons of his shirt.
He's clumsy, and it's hard to do one-handed without looking /and/ having his soul kissed out of his body, but he manages to undo the top three buttons and /finally/ gets his hand on Dazai's chest.
His left shoulder and upper chest are swathed in bandages, adding a spot of rough
His left shoulder and upper chest are swathed in bandages, adding a spot of rough
friction that Chuuya ignores.
One of Dazai's hands finds his hip, sliding /up/ over his stomach and making him shudder. His hand is so /big/, palm covering nearly the entirely of his stomach, and unlike Chuuya, he's completely confident and smooth as he shoves his shirt up.
One of Dazai's hands finds his hip, sliding /up/ over his stomach and making him shudder. His hand is so /big/, palm covering nearly the entirely of his stomach, and unlike Chuuya, he's completely confident and smooth as he shoves his shirt up.
"Cuffs," Dazai mutters, pushing his wrist under his hands so Chuuya can undo the buttons at his wrist. The other hand is next, and then Chuuya gets the /glorious/ vision of Dazai rising up on his knees, strong body effortlessly keeping it's balance as he reaches behind his head.
It's a dress shirt. It's not /supposed/ to be removed by yanking it over his head, but /fuck/,the sight of Dazai so impatient that he can't even wait to undo the last few buttons is /so/ hot/.
And because Chuuya is feeling /bold/, instead of removing his own shirt or starting on
And because Chuuya is feeling /bold/, instead of removing his own shirt or starting on
his jeans--
He reaches out and runs his hand over his upper thigh and into the middle,rubbing the palm of his hand over his trapped erection.
Dazai stills, dark eyes growing hot and focused as he traces over the outline of it, mouth dry with want.
It's /big/, of course it is,
He reaches out and runs his hand over his upper thigh and into the middle,rubbing the palm of his hand over his trapped erection.
Dazai stills, dark eyes growing hot and focused as he traces over the outline of it, mouth dry with want.
It's /big/, of course it is,
that's never going to be different--
But it's also /thick/, pulsing lightly in his grip, hot. It twitches when he rubs the heel of his palm over the head, twitches again when Dazai reaches down and wraps his fingers around his wrist to show him how he /likes/ to be touched, a
But it's also /thick/, pulsing lightly in his grip, hot. It twitches when he rubs the heel of his palm over the head, twitches again when Dazai reaches down and wraps his fingers around his wrist to show him how he /likes/ to be touched, a
little firmer than he was doing, and focusing around the base.
Chuuya wants it in his mouth again. Wants the taste of him filling his senses, filling him up until nothing else matters. Just the smell of him, the taste of him, the slide of their skin together.
"Hurry up," Chuuya
Chuuya wants it in his mouth again. Wants the taste of him filling his senses, filling him up until nothing else matters. Just the smell of him, the taste of him, the slide of their skin together.
"Hurry up," Chuuya
demands breathlessly, shaking off Dazai’s hand so he can unzip his slacks and drag the waistband down.
With a gleam in his eye, Dazai lets him take his cock out, and as soon as ur springs free, he’s grabbing Chuuya’s wrists and pinning them one-handed over his head.
He leans
With a gleam in his eye, Dazai lets him take his cock out, and as soon as ur springs free, he’s grabbing Chuuya’s wrists and pinning them one-handed over his head.
He leans
down, and his voice feels like it falls directly on his nerve endings as he rumbles, “No, I think I’ll take my time with you.”
Tugging on his wrists, Chuuya struggles lightly. Dazai’s grip is firm though, unrelenting, and although Chuuya knows he could get him to let go with
Tugging on his wrists, Chuuya struggles lightly. Dazai’s grip is firm though, unrelenting, and although Chuuya knows he could get him to let go with
a word—
It’s /exciting/ to be pinned like this, held so effortlessly and securely. It makes his blood turn hot in his veins, thick with lust, more potent than any drug that exists.
“If you don’t hurry up, I’ll cry,” he threatens breathlessly.
The threat falls flat because
It’s /exciting/ to be pinned like this, held so effortlessly and securely. It makes his blood turn hot in his veins, thick with lust, more potent than any drug that exists.
“If you don’t hurry up, I’ll cry,” he threatens breathlessly.
The threat falls flat because
it just makes Dazai nuzzle into his cheek with a humming noise, casual and smug.
“That’s okay,” he murmurs and Chuuya can already tell he’s about to say something that’s going to set him on /fire/—
“You look so pretty when you cry.”
/Fucking/ hell, that’s not /fair/.
“That’s okay,” he murmurs and Chuuya can already tell he’s about to say something that’s going to set him on /fire/—
“You look so pretty when you cry.”
/Fucking/ hell, that’s not /fair/.
Chuuya hooks his knee higher, driving up with his hips to grind against him. He’s still trapped in his pants, but /Dazai/ isn’t, and the man hisses at the rough friction.
“Please,” he mumbles, clawing at his back, unashamed to be begging so early. Teeth sink into his neck,
“Please,” he mumbles, clawing at his back, unashamed to be begging so early. Teeth sink into his neck,
making him cry out in shock. “Please, I want it.”
“I know you want it,” Dazai breathes into his skin, hot, meeting Chuuya’s next grind up with a sinful roll of his hips. “And I’m gonna give it to you. You just have to be /patient/.”
/Fuck/ being patient, he’s been patient for
“I know you want it,” Dazai breathes into his skin, hot, meeting Chuuya’s next grind up with a sinful roll of his hips. “And I’m gonna give it to you. You just have to be /patient/.”
/Fuck/ being patient, he’s been patient for
/months/ and been denied for this /entire/ week, and if it happens /again/, he’s actually going to punch Dazai about it.
Before he can speak his mind, Dazai is sliding down and taking a nipple into his mouth. His tongue runs over the nub, flattening it and swirling his piercing
Before he can speak his mind, Dazai is sliding down and taking a nipple into his mouth. His tongue runs over the nub, flattening it and swirling his piercing
over it in maddening circles.
Each touch, each scrape of his teeth over him makes hunger tighten in his stomach, stringing him between the opposing points of /good/ and not enough. His hips rock insistently, and every time Dazai’s cock slides against the front of his jeans,
Each touch, each scrape of his teeth over him makes hunger tighten in his stomach, stringing him between the opposing points of /good/ and not enough. His hips rock insistently, and every time Dazai’s cock slides against the front of his jeans,
teasing him with friction, he just grows /harder/.
Eventually, when his nipple is throbbing and oversensitive and each gasping breath is tinged with a desperate moan—
Dazai switches to the other side to give /that/ one attention and leaves the other to cool wetly in the air.
Eventually, when his nipple is throbbing and oversensitive and each gasping breath is tinged with a desperate moan—
Dazai switches to the other side to give /that/ one attention and leaves the other to cool wetly in the air.
The coldness of it is a sensation all on its own, a paradox to how /hot/ Dazai’s tongue feels on him.
Dazai’s free hand slides down his stomach, finding the button on his jeans and popping it open one-handed. Sighing in relief, Chuuya wiggles up, silently encouraging him to
Dazai’s free hand slides down his stomach, finding the button on his jeans and popping it open one-handed. Sighing in relief, Chuuya wiggles up, silently encouraging him to
pull down his zipper agonizingly slowly, and then tug his waistband down so he can slip his hand into his underwear—
The first touch of his hand is almost-rough without any lube, dry with friction, but he’s so desperate for /any/ contact that his hips are stuttering up into his
The first touch of his hand is almost-rough without any lube, dry with friction, but he’s so desperate for /any/ contact that his hips are stuttering up into his
fist as he gives the head a few short, slow strokes.
Each one pulls a pleased sigh from him and even though there’s a sense of burning desperation—
He also knows he’s going to be taken care of.
After teasing him long that enough that his cock starts to leak pre-cum and gets
Each one pulls a pleased sigh from him and even though there’s a sense of burning desperation—
He also knows he’s going to be taken care of.
After teasing him long that enough that his cock starts to leak pre-cum and gets
his palm slick, Dazai leans back a little farther. His pants get dragged off him quickly, and Chuuya kicks them off his ankles when they get to the end.
With his heels, he pushes at the waistband of Dazai's pants, pushing them down because his wrists are still pinned above his
With his heels, he pushes at the waistband of Dazai's pants, pushing them down because his wrists are still pinned above his
head. He doesn't want to be free, he just wants to /keep going/.
Dazai has to let go of him to get his slacks off, shuffling on the bed a little awkwardly, which makes Chuuya smile. At least he's not /always/ elegant and dominating.
Sometimes, he's just a man too, and that
Dazai has to let go of him to get his slacks off, shuffling on the bed a little awkwardly, which makes Chuuya smile. At least he's not /always/ elegant and dominating.
Sometimes, he's just a man too, and that
thought completely irradiates whatever nerves Chuuya might have been feeling.
Leaning up, he hooks his hands around his boyfriend's-- god, his /boyfriend/, they're /boyfriends/--neck, he pulls him down into another kiss, this one even more rough and needy than before.
When his
Leaning up, he hooks his hands around his boyfriend's-- god, his /boyfriend/, they're /boyfriends/--neck, he pulls him down into another kiss, this one even more rough and needy than before.
When his
lips are tingling, he's the first one to break the kiss this time, marking a trail of sucking bites down Dazai's jawline up to the spot behind his ear. He can hear him breathing, how /heavy/ it is compared to how calm it usually is, and excitement pulses through him.
Taking a
Taking a
page out of Dazai's book, he scrapes his teeth over his ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth to nibble on it. When he can feel Dazai vibrating with tension, hips subtly grinding forward, naked body radiating warmth--
He presses a smirk to his ear. "Fuck me, Daddy," he whispers.
He presses a smirk to his ear. "Fuck me, Daddy," he whispers.
Dazai jolts against him,his hands--which have been sweeping over his body and finding every sensitive spot to tease and tickle until his whole body feels like one raw,electrified nerve--turning briefly bruising on his waist.
For a second, Chuuya feels /victory/, feels on /top/--
For a second, Chuuya feels /victory/, feels on /top/--
Naturally, that's when Dazai turns the tables on him, easily taking control of the situation.
His knee gets pushed up and pinned to the side, leaving him nice and exposed as Dazai leans back up. One-handed, he pops the cap on the lube, drizzling it over his cock and thighs,
His knee gets pushed up and pinned to the side, leaving him nice and exposed as Dazai leans back up. One-handed, he pops the cap on the lube, drizzling it over his cock and thighs,
uncaring that it's /cold/ and makes him hiss in protest.
He's always /enjoyed/ getting Chuuya as messy as possible, smearing cum and lube and saliva over him like he's marking his territory.
"I have to say," Dazai hums, tossing the bottle to the side. His newly free hand swipes
He's always /enjoyed/ getting Chuuya as messy as possible, smearing cum and lube and saliva over him like he's marking his territory.
"I have to say," Dazai hums, tossing the bottle to the side. His newly free hand swipes
through the mess, collecting it up on his fingers. "That is the worst begging I've seen yet."
"I wasn't--" Chuuya starts, cutting himself off with a shocked hiss when his hand closes around his erection, giving him a few ruthless pumps. The pace is almost brutally fast, compared
"I wasn't--" Chuuya starts, cutting himself off with a shocked hiss when his hand closes around his erection, giving him a few ruthless pumps. The pace is almost brutally fast, compared
to the slow teasing from earlier.
In no time, Chuuya is writhing underneath him, hands grabbing at his thighs, the only place on Dazai he can reach and--
While the vibrator from the other day /was/ absolute torture, he can't say it wasn't /effective/. Because getting jerked off
In no time, Chuuya is writhing underneath him, hands grabbing at his thighs, the only place on Dazai he can reach and--
While the vibrator from the other day /was/ absolute torture, he can't say it wasn't /effective/. Because getting jerked off
feels /good/, yes, has him panting and moaning--
But after being pushed to the very brink so many times, he finds he needs a little more sensation than this to orgasm anymore.
"I /know/, that's the problem," Dazai sighs, letting go of his cock without any warning and leaving
But after being pushed to the very brink so many times, he finds he needs a little more sensation than this to orgasm anymore.
"I /know/, that's the problem," Dazai sighs, letting go of his cock without any warning and leaving
him bereft. His fingers trail wetly downwards, swirling teasing circles over his inner thighs.
Each time his fingers come /close/ to where Chuuya wants them, he holds his breath in anticipation. Fruitlessly, he tries to open his legs /wider/, until his tendons are straining
Each time his fingers come /close/ to where Chuuya wants them, he holds his breath in anticipation. Fruitlessly, he tries to open his legs /wider/, until his tendons are straining
with the effort.
He wants it, he wants it /so/ fucking bad, is filled to the brim with a hunger that only Dazai can sate--
"Because I really think you /should/ be."
Dazai makes searing eye contact, gaze dark and burning as his fingers finally find Chuuya's entrance. He rubs
He wants it, he wants it /so/ fucking bad, is filled to the brim with a hunger that only Dazai can sate--
"Because I really think you /should/ be."
Dazai makes searing eye contact, gaze dark and burning as his fingers finally find Chuuya's entrance. He rubs
lube over him, just roughly enough that Chuuya's breath is catching.
He likes being treated roughly. Likes the /care/ too, but /fuck/, if the idea of Dazai losing control with him isn't something he /dreams/ about.
"Please," he whimpers, taking his cue again. If Dazai wants him
He likes being treated roughly. Likes the /care/ too, but /fuck/, if the idea of Dazai losing control with him isn't something he /dreams/ about.
"Please," he whimpers, taking his cue again. If Dazai wants him
to beg, he'll beg, cry for him, /whatever/ he wants. He'll do it all, without complaint, as long as Dazai /fucks/ him.
For his reward, the first finger sinks inside him steadily, the slide made slick with lube. His mouth opens on a hitched sigh, head tilting back.
Each time
For his reward, the first finger sinks inside him steadily, the slide made slick with lube. His mouth opens on a hitched sigh, head tilting back.
Each time
Dazai's inside him, it feels /brand/ new. His body adjusts quicker the longer they do this, so it feels better /faster/ and it only takes a few minutes for his finger to be pumping into him steadily.
Chuuya rocks his hips down as Dazai grinds in, increasing the force and pace.
Chuuya rocks his hips down as Dazai grinds in, increasing the force and pace.
(All the work Dazai has done over the past week, getting Chuuya used to something inside him, either something /big/ or for longer periods of time, is starting to pay off. His muscles melt around him easily, letting Dazai in deeper and deeper. When he does something he likes, his
insides pulse and ripple around him in waves that make Dazai's mouth water, envisioning it around his /cock/--
But he doesn't clench up anymore, doesn't fight it, and two fingers sink inside him like it's nothing.)
The second finger comes with that aching stretch that Chuuya
But he doesn't clench up anymore, doesn't fight it, and two fingers sink inside him like it's nothing.)
The second finger comes with that aching stretch that Chuuya
/loves/, and relaxing into it is the easiest thing he's ever done. The pleasure builds and builds, spiking sharply whenever his fingers slide over his prostate, and growing /deeper/ when Dazai presses as far inside him as he can, knuckles grinding against his rim.
Throwing his
Throwing his
free leg around his waist, Chuuya pulls him into the next thrust, and the next, until their hips are moving together in waves that match the movements of his hand. It's /good/, has him whimpering and Dazai breathing out heavily.
The tension builds, an inferno, fed by the
The tension builds, an inferno, fed by the
pleasure pumping through his veins, by the way Dazai's erection slides against his own.
Reaching up, he pulls him down again, far enough that he can scatter kisses and sucking bites over Dazai's neck and collarbone. "More," he mumbles, rocking his hips demandingly at the same
Reaching up, he pulls him down again, far enough that he can scatter kisses and sucking bites over Dazai's neck and collarbone. "More," he mumbles, rocking his hips demandingly at the same
time that he bites down on his collarbone.
By the sharp growl and the /slam/ of his fingers inside him, he found a sensitive spot. He sucks on it, hard,wanting to leave his own marks on Dazai.
Wants /everyone/ to know that Dazai is /his/ and no one elses.
The third finger is a
By the sharp growl and the /slam/ of his fingers inside him, he found a sensitive spot. He sucks on it, hard,wanting to leave his own marks on Dazai.
Wants /everyone/ to know that Dazai is /his/ and no one elses.
The third finger is a
little more of a challenge to take in, but he manages it. It never hurts, it's just /so/ much, pressure and fullness and heat and /pleasure/.
To distract himself and to return some of the mind-bending ecstasy that's currently being showered on him, he wiggles one hand between
To distract himself and to return some of the mind-bending ecstasy that's currently being showered on him, he wiggles one hand between
them to wrap his fingers around Dazai's erection.
That's /almost/ a bad idea, because as soon as he has his /hand/ on it, he remembers how good it felt in his /mouth/, in his /throat/. It pulses in his grip, hot hard flesh, so tempting that Chuuya almost forgets the game plan
That's /almost/ a bad idea, because as soon as he has his /hand/ on it, he remembers how good it felt in his /mouth/, in his /throat/. It pulses in his grip, hot hard flesh, so tempting that Chuuya almost forgets the game plan
entirely and just jerks him off right then and there—
Of course, the way Dazai /immediately/ zeroes in on his prostate with searing intensity that makes tears of overstimulation prick the corners of his eyes, reminds him pretty quickly.
He focuses on the base, where Dazai
Of course, the way Dazai /immediately/ zeroes in on his prostate with searing intensity that makes tears of overstimulation prick the corners of his eyes, reminds him pretty quickly.
He focuses on the base, where Dazai
liked it, short pulls that bring out muffled grunts and groans, and harder thrusts inside him.
Dazai ups the ante by wiggling in the tip of his pinkie too, and /this/ is the farthest Chuuya’s ever been stretched open. His thighs tremble with the strain, and a long, keening moan
Dazai ups the ante by wiggling in the tip of his pinkie too, and /this/ is the farthest Chuuya’s ever been stretched open. His thighs tremble with the strain, and a long, keening moan
escapes his throat.
Pleasure pulses through him, orchestrated by Dazai’s clever fingers, growing hotter and higher with every moment, until Chuuya feels like he might be drowning in magma.
He’s mindless with it, rocking unconsciously onto his fingers in a desperate bid for
Pleasure pulses through him, orchestrated by Dazai’s clever fingers, growing hotter and higher with every moment, until Chuuya feels like he might be drowning in magma.
He’s mindless with it, rocking unconsciously onto his fingers in a desperate bid for
more. He’s more full than he’s ever been, but /still/, he’s starving for more, needs it in such a primal, instinctive way that he almost feels like a feral beast.
More often than not, his hand is still on Dazai— because every time he /starts/ to stroke him, he curls his fingers
More often than not, his hand is still on Dazai— because every time he /starts/ to stroke him, he curls his fingers
inside him and attacks his prostate until he feels like he’s about to /cry/— but Dazai’s hips are still rocking subtly.
“More,” he demands again, but it comes out breathless and needy. Dazai might as well have his hand around his heart with how easily he makes his body sing.
“More,” he demands again, but it comes out breathless and needy. Dazai might as well have his hand around his heart with how easily he makes his body sing.
“Please, please, more.”
(It’s not his best begging. Dazai /could/ make him do better but—
He’s impatient too, cock /aching/ with need, and Chuuya /is/ prepped.)
The fingers stretch out inside him one more time, prompting a choked cry at the pleasure-ache. Then they’re
(It’s not his best begging. Dazai /could/ make him do better but—
He’s impatient too, cock /aching/ with need, and Chuuya /is/ prepped.)
The fingers stretch out inside him one more time, prompting a choked cry at the pleasure-ache. Then they’re
sliding out, leaving him empty and unfulfilled—
But Dazai is reaching for the lube bottle again, opening it and pouring an obscene amount into his palm. He spreads it over his cock in three quick strokes, gently nudging Chuuya’s hand out of the way.
Then he’s shuffling /down/—
But Dazai is reaching for the lube bottle again, opening it and pouring an obscene amount into his palm. He spreads it over his cock in three quick strokes, gently nudging Chuuya’s hand out of the way.
Then he’s shuffling /down/—
And he’s /there/, cock sliding against his entrance slickly.
Chuuya holds his breath, waiting for the first press /in/, waiting for it, needing it, dying for it—
It doesn’t come.
Instead, Dazai’s dry hand finds one of his and grabs him by the wrist. He pulls his hand up,
Chuuya holds his breath, waiting for the first press /in/, waiting for it, needing it, dying for it—
It doesn’t come.
Instead, Dazai’s dry hand finds one of his and grabs him by the wrist. He pulls his hand up,
angling into a better position so his fingers can slide up, over his palm, and intertwine tightly with his own.
He squeezes his hand, guiding it to lay on the mattress near his hand. Bracing his weight with it, palms pressed tightly together, Dazai leans down one last time.
He squeezes his hand, guiding it to lay on the mattress near his hand. Bracing his weight with it, palms pressed tightly together, Dazai leans down one last time.
His lips brush over his, achingly gentle after all the rushed pleasure.
If there was a world outside of here and now, a large body pressing him into the mattress, dark eyes setting him on fire, a cock sliding over and over against Chuuya in the most /delicious/ teasing way—
If there was a world outside of here and now, a large body pressing him into the mattress, dark eyes setting him on fire, a cock sliding over and over against Chuuya in the most /delicious/ teasing way—
He wouldn’t know it.
Dazai’s voice makes everything else fade away, dropping like a physical weight in the space between them.
“Ask me again, love.”
/Fuck/.
Chuuya’s heart trips so hard it /hurts/, squeezing in his chest, and for a moment, his only response is to lean his
Dazai’s voice makes everything else fade away, dropping like a physical weight in the space between them.
“Ask me again, love.”
/Fuck/.
Chuuya’s heart trips so hard it /hurts/, squeezing in his chest, and for a moment, his only response is to lean his
head up and capture him in an all-encompassing kiss, pouring every emotion he’s feeling into it. It makes him breathless.
“Please,” he mumbles again, dropping his head back to the mattress when the /need/ starts to overpower his heart again. His eyes squeeze shut, his lungs
“Please,” he mumbles again, dropping his head back to the mattress when the /need/ starts to overpower his heart again. His eyes squeeze shut, his lungs
holding onto his air.
A moment passes. Another.
Dazai’s nose brushes over his cheek, a kiss whispered over his jawline. “Open your eyes. I want to see you,” he murmurs, the /significance/ of those words even greater now, because he’s heard them /before/—
When he first asked
A moment passes. Another.
Dazai’s nose brushes over his cheek, a kiss whispered over his jawline. “Open your eyes. I want to see you,” he murmurs, the /significance/ of those words even greater now, because he’s heard them /before/—
When he first asked
if he could kiss him, so long ago.
The fact that they’ve come so far feels impossible then, but inevitable now, like they were always meant to end up /here/ twined together.
Like this was fate.
“I want you to watch, the first time I fuck you.”
His eyes crack open.
The fact that they’ve come so far feels impossible then, but inevitable now, like they were always meant to end up /here/ twined together.
Like this was fate.
“I want you to watch, the first time I fuck you.”
His eyes crack open.
The first moment is all dark eyes and a mop of dark hair, tousled in a way that makes his heart clench with affection, with desire—
The second moment is /pressure/.
Not /painful/, but burning, aching, steady and relentless. His cock pushes inside him slowly, stretching his
The second moment is /pressure/.
Not /painful/, but burning, aching, steady and relentless. His cock pushes inside him slowly, stretching his
body to what feels like it’s absolute limit, sliding inside him for the first time.
Chuuya’s eyes go half-lidded and he’s panting, every breath tinged with a moan and he’s fighting the urge to let his eyes close, because he said he’d look, Dazai wanted him to look, and he’s
Chuuya’s eyes go half-lidded and he’s panting, every breath tinged with a moan and he’s fighting the urge to let his eyes close, because he said he’d look, Dazai wanted him to look, and he’s
still looking at /him/, brown eyes the only thing he can see—
The head pops through the first ring of muscle, making him shudder with a choked noise. He’s squeezing Dazai’s hand with all his might, it must be hurting, and his other hand is clawing at his shoulder, leaving red
The head pops through the first ring of muscle, making him shudder with a choked noise. He’s squeezing Dazai’s hand with all his might, it must be hurting, and his other hand is clawing at his shoulder, leaving red
marks in his wake.
Finally breaking eye contact, Dazai leans down to smear kisses all his forehead, his temples, anywhere he can reach. “Doing so well,” he murmurs, mixed with other soft encouragements that Chuuya can barely hear over the roaring in his ears.
He’s given a long
Finally breaking eye contact, Dazai leans down to smear kisses all his forehead, his temples, anywhere he can reach. “Doing so well,” he murmurs, mixed with other soft encouragements that Chuuya can barely hear over the roaring in his ears.
He’s given a long
moment to adjust to that intrusion, and when his body starts to /relax/ around it, Dazai pulls back a centimeter and begins to push even deeper inside.
“God,” Chuuya chokes out, driving one heel against Dazai’s back. He’s not trying to fight him, but it’s so /much/ that his
“God,” Chuuya chokes out, driving one heel against Dazai’s back. He’s not trying to fight him, but it’s so /much/ that his
body is struggling to adjust, twitching and trembling and thrashing.
With how much lube Dazai used, there’s no dry friction at all whatsoever. It’s just te burning, aching stretch as he splits him open in the /best/ way, slowly burying himself deeper one centimeter at a time.
With how much lube Dazai used, there’s no dry friction at all whatsoever. It’s just te burning, aching stretch as he splits him open in the /best/ way, slowly burying himself deeper one centimeter at a time.
Not for the first time, he’s grateful for Dazai’s self-control. He can hear the rough breathing above him, the low, rumbling groan in his chest, the way his cock practically throbbing with need inside him,and he /knows/ there’s probably nothing more he wants than to just /thrust/
inside—
But he remains achingly slow, rocking forward in tiny movements, waiting for his body to adjust before continuing the relentless press inward.
Shuddering, Chuuya squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck, there’s so much, it’s so /big/—
There’s a smile pressed against his forehead,
But he remains achingly slow, rocking forward in tiny movements, waiting for his body to adjust before continuing the relentless press inward.
Shuddering, Chuuya squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck, there’s so much, it’s so /big/—
There’s a smile pressed against his forehead,
an amused huff. “I /know/ it’s big, sweetheart,” Dazai says, and too late, Chuuya realizes he must’ve said that out loud, “but you can do it. You can take it.”
There’s a moment where he doesn’t think he actually /can/, when his cock is maybe halfway inside him and his body is
There’s a moment where he doesn’t think he actually /can/, when his cock is maybe halfway inside him and his body is
clenching down around him in powerful waves, unsure if it wants to pull him /deeper/ or push him out—
“Relax, baby,” gets murmured against his cheek, Dazai bending even farther down to brush their lips together in an achingly soft kiss. “Just breathe. I got you.”
He does, he
“Relax, baby,” gets murmured against his cheek, Dazai bending even farther down to brush their lips together in an achingly soft kiss. “Just breathe. I got you.”
He does, he
/does/, he always does, and that thought lets him relax that much further, accepting what’s being given to him.
Eventually, Dazai’s hips come to meet his ass and he bottoms out inside him. He’s still holding his hand and breathing compliments into his skin between soft kisses.
Eventually, Dazai’s hips come to meet his ass and he bottoms out inside him. He’s still holding his hand and breathing compliments into his skin between soft kisses.
Chuuya, meanwhile, is spinning somewhere between searing pressure and pleasure as Dazai throbs inside him—
And a soaring sense of /victory/.
Because he did it, he fucking /did it/, he took /all/ of Dazai and now he can practically feel his cock in his fucking /lungs/, but he
And a soaring sense of /victory/.
Because he did it, he fucking /did it/, he took /all/ of Dazai and now he can practically feel his cock in his fucking /lungs/, but he
/did it/.
He’s the one that makes Dazai’s breath hitch whenever his body clenches up instinctively, fighting the overload of pleasure. /He’s/ the one making his erection twitch inside him, he’s his /boyfriend/.
And some day, maybe not today because he’s already struggling to
He’s the one that makes Dazai’s breath hitch whenever his body clenches up instinctively, fighting the overload of pleasure. /He’s/ the one making his erection twitch inside him, he’s his /boyfriend/.
And some day, maybe not today because he’s already struggling to
hold it together when the stretch is hitting /all/ his weak spots, the edge of pain, of /too much/, just making his erection throb harder against their stomachs, some day—
He’s gonna be the best sex Dazai has ever had, or he’s going to /die trying/.
Rocking his hips slightly,
He’s gonna be the best sex Dazai has ever had, or he’s going to /die trying/.
Rocking his hips slightly,
he tests the glide and cries out softly at the way it shifts inside him, sliding out a few centimeters and coming back inside on a new, different angle that feels /so/ good, he likes that—
(Dazai has had small partners before. Prefers them, really, because he likes to press
(Dazai has had small partners before. Prefers them, really, because he likes to press
down over them, likes to cover them entirely until their entire world is /him/. Only him.
But Chuuya is probably one of his /smallest/ ones, not only in height, but also in stature. Dazai can practically encircle his waist entirely with his hands, and /yes/, that is exciting,
But Chuuya is probably one of his /smallest/ ones, not only in height, but also in stature. Dazai can practically encircle his waist entirely with his hands, and /yes/, that is exciting,
but it’s also leading to one very persistent problem—
Dazai is going to lose his fucking mind.
Chuuya is like a /vice/ around him, squeezing him so tight that pleasure is raking down his thighs, and he’s not even /moving/. He’s searing hot too, wet, so fucking good that he
Dazai is going to lose his fucking mind.
Chuuya is like a /vice/ around him, squeezing him so tight that pleasure is raking down his thighs, and he’s not even /moving/. He’s searing hot too, wet, so fucking good that he
/must/ have been made perfectly for him.There’s no other option.
The animalistic part of his brain is /roaring/ at him,demanding he pull out and slam back in,chasing the pleasure with one-track mindlessness, until his entire being feels wreathed in flames he willingly burns in.
The animalistic part of his brain is /roaring/ at him,demanding he pull out and slam back in,chasing the pleasure with one-track mindlessness, until his entire being feels wreathed in flames he willingly burns in.
Logic says he needs to /wait/, because Chuuya is still relaxing around him, muscles pulsing in shorter and shorter waves as he adjusts, and although the little siren is starting to wiggle his hips testingly— making Dazai’s jaw clenched as he /fights/ for self-control— he’s not
/ready/.
Drawn thin by the opposing needs, Dazai rests his forehead on the bed near Chuuya’s head. He’s careful not to grip his hand too tightly, but his other hand is fisted in the sheets, nails digging in until he’s half-certain the fabric is being shredded under his grip.
Drawn thin by the opposing needs, Dazai rests his forehead on the bed near Chuuya’s head. He’s careful not to grip his hand too tightly, but his other hand is fisted in the sheets, nails digging in until he’s half-certain the fabric is being shredded under his grip.
His mind has gone blank, spinning wildly between /fuck him, fuck him, I have to fuck him, need to, feels /so/ good/ and—
/Don’t you dare fucking move. Not yet/.
It’s all made worse by the way Chuuya has started to bite and suck over his collarbone, finding every little
/Don’t you dare fucking move. Not yet/.
It’s all made worse by the way Chuuya has started to bite and suck over his collarbone, finding every little
sensitive spot and marking it up while making content little hums, and thank /god/ that the distraction is letting him loosen up more, just enough for Dazai to—)
“Ready?” Dazai’s voice is a heady thing, dark and rumbling, and the hoarse edge of it goes /straight/ to Chuuya’s
“Ready?” Dazai’s voice is a heady thing, dark and rumbling, and the hoarse edge of it goes /straight/ to Chuuya’s
cock.
He considers it for a moment, because he’s not actually /sure/— Dazai still feels /massive/ inside him, filling him all the way up to the brim and then some, but that might also just be normal, considering how big he is? Besides, while the ache is still there the burn has
He considers it for a moment, because he’s not actually /sure/— Dazai still feels /massive/ inside him, filling him all the way up to the brim and then some, but that might also just be normal, considering how big he is? Besides, while the ache is still there the burn has
faded away almost entirely. When he moves his own hips, it feels a little shocking, but not /bad/, so—
He can always tell Dazai no if he realizes he’s /not/ ready, and once again, that subtle reassurance that he could back out at any moment without any repercussions and Dazai
He can always tell Dazai no if he realizes he’s /not/ ready, and once again, that subtle reassurance that he could back out at any moment without any repercussions and Dazai
would listen to him, it makes him /bold/, makes him take the plunge off the edge and free fall, pushing his own limits.
“Yes,” he says, scraping his teeth over the sharp edge of his collarbone.
Dazai’s chest expands on a bigger breath—
The first thrust is /life-changing/.
“Yes,” he says, scraping his teeth over the sharp edge of his collarbone.
Dazai’s chest expands on a bigger breath—
The first thrust is /life-changing/.
Calling it a thrust might be overselling it a little, because Dazai’s hips just /roll/ forward, in a slow, shallow grind forward that somehow gets him even deeper inside—
But still, Chuuya experiences for the /first/ time, something hot and hard moving inside him, dragging along
But still, Chuuya experiences for the /first/ time, something hot and hard moving inside him, dragging along
every one of his nerve endings, hears the hitched, pleased breath Dazai gives at the friction, and—
/Oh/, it’s good. So good.
Nothing less than he expected, because Dazai has blown his mind every time he got his hands on him, but /expecting/ and /feeling/ it are two very
/Oh/, it’s good. So good.
Nothing less than he expected, because Dazai has blown his mind every time he got his hands on him, but /expecting/ and /feeling/ it are two very
different things.
/Finally/, when Dazai’s hips are pressed against him as hard as they can, that sense of devouring hunger in the pit of Chuuya’s stomach feels /sated/.
His moan is more of a breathy exhale, eyes fluttering shut. Arching up, he meets the next grind forward,
/Finally/, when Dazai’s hips are pressed against him as hard as they can, that sense of devouring hunger in the pit of Chuuya’s stomach feels /sated/.
His moan is more of a breathy exhale, eyes fluttering shut. Arching up, he meets the next grind forward,
increasing the force.
When Dazai straightens up, taking his weight off him, Chuuya makes a disgruntled noise in disappointment. He /liked/ being squished beneath him, liked being pinned with his body weight and feeling him move and breathe against him.
“Shush, baby,” Dazai
When Dazai straightens up, taking his weight off him, Chuuya makes a disgruntled noise in disappointment. He /liked/ being squished beneath him, liked being pinned with his body weight and feeling him move and breathe against him.
“Shush, baby,” Dazai
says, low, “I’m not going anywhere. I just want to see you.”
Fire bursts into Chuuya’s stomach, fueled by the idea of being /watched/. Of being /pretty/.
He nods, tightening his leg around his hip on the next rock in, throwing his head back as the head of his cock /grinds/
Fire bursts into Chuuya’s stomach, fueled by the idea of being /watched/. Of being /pretty/.
He nods, tightening his leg around his hip on the next rock in, throwing his head back as the head of his cock /grinds/
against his prostate unrelentingly. And really, he’s so big that having his prostate abused is /unavoidable/.
When he looks back down, eyes half-lidded, does have to admit that the /visual/ is almost as good as the physical sensations itself because—
Dazai’s hair, sticking up
When he looks back down, eyes half-lidded, does have to admit that the /visual/ is almost as good as the physical sensations itself because—
Dazai’s hair, sticking up
wildly from the way he was running his fingers through it. Eyes intent, focused, half-lidded with pleasure and a smoldering gaze like a physical brand on Chuuya's skin. Face flushed, cheeks pink, lips bitten red and swollen. Abs working in rhythmic waves, glistening with sweat.
Yeah, the sight is /just/ as good as the sensations. It heightens everything, because not only can he /feel/ the way Dazai is moving against him, he can /see/ it, can see the affects of it.
Then he pulls out a little, farther than before and thrusts back in faster, /harder/.
Then he pulls out a little, farther than before and thrusts back in faster, /harder/.
It knocks the breath out of him on a choked moan, eyes widening as the pleasure suddenly spikes, swirling tightly through him. Oh /god/, he liked that, wants more of that.
"Good?" Dazai growls, eyes pools of darkness in the low lighting. He returns to the shallow grinding from
"Good?" Dazai growls, eyes pools of darkness in the low lighting. He returns to the shallow grinding from
before. His free hand-- the one /not/ holding Chuuya's -- has found his hip and is tilting him upward for a better angle. It makes the head of his cock lodge against his prostate and /stay/ there, practically milking him as he grinds forward in small circles, until Chuuya is
seeing /stars/.
"Yeah," he moans in response, gripping onto Dazai's hand with all his strength.The small squeeze he gets in return is heart-warming, shouldn't be because he's currently getting fucked into oblivion but--
Here he is, torn between affection and /desire/.
"Again,"
"Yeah," he moans in response, gripping onto Dazai's hand with all his strength.The small squeeze he gets in return is heart-warming, shouldn't be because he's currently getting fucked into oblivion but--
Here he is, torn between affection and /desire/.
"Again,"
he asks, breathlessly, hooking his leg higher around his waist because it furthers the stretch, lets Dazai get even /deeper/ inside him, until there's no part of him that doesn't feel /owned/ by him. "More, please-- I need it."
Eyes flashing, Dazai gives him a wicked grin.
Eyes flashing, Dazai gives him a wicked grin.
"I know what you need," he purrs, pulling out farther than before, hovering at the end of his thrust until Chuuya opens his mouth to complain about feeling /empty/--
Which was his /plan/, apparently, because as soon as he starts to say anything, he drives back in with near-
Which was his /plan/, apparently, because as soon as he starts to say anything, he drives back in with near-
ruthless intensity, hips slapping lightly against his ass. His words turn into loud, desperate moaning, shuddering at the pleasure.
It's not the /hardest/ Dazai can go-- Chuuya can feel the restraint in his body, the bruising grip on his hip a sign of his self-control-- but the
It's not the /hardest/ Dazai can go-- Chuuya can feel the restraint in his body, the bruising grip on his hip a sign of his self-control-- but the
steady, deep pace he sets up easily is enough to drive him /insane/.
There's something much more viscerally satisfying about being /fucked/. Not only because it's so much better than anything else he's ever felt-- a ball of heat like the sun centering in his stomach and growing
There's something much more viscerally satisfying about being /fucked/. Not only because it's so much better than anything else he's ever felt-- a ball of heat like the sun centering in his stomach and growing
bigger with every thrust inside him-- but also because he can /feel/ how affected Dazai is by it too. He's groaning deep in his chest, head tilting back like he's getting lost in Chuuya, cock throbbing and growing impossibly harder inside him.
He wants to see him lose it. Wants
He wants to see him lose it. Wants
to see him /wild/.
He starts rocking his hips down into his thrusts, eyes rolling back at the mind-bending pleasure. It's building like symphonies inside him, building to a crescendo, faster and harder and /louder/.
Thought dissolves, leaving him a mindless inferno of need,
He starts rocking his hips down into his thrusts, eyes rolling back at the mind-bending pleasure. It's building like symphonies inside him, building to a crescendo, faster and harder and /louder/.
Thought dissolves, leaving him a mindless inferno of need,
writhing so desperately underneath him that Dazai has to pin him again with a noise that borders on a /snarl/.
He picks up speed, pulling out a little more just to /slam/ back in, earth-shattering thrusts that break Chuuya open, filling him to the brim with wild-fire ecstasy
He picks up speed, pulling out a little more just to /slam/ back in, earth-shattering thrusts that break Chuuya open, filling him to the brim with wild-fire ecstasy
that is /too/ much to bear but--
He /has/ to take it. Is pinned beneath Dazai as he pushes him higher, fucks him /harder/, driving him to the edge with a relentless, animalistic ferocity. He cries for it, head tilted back so far that it almost hurts, meeting his thrusts as best
He /has/ to take it. Is pinned beneath Dazai as he pushes him higher, fucks him /harder/, driving him to the edge with a relentless, animalistic ferocity. He cries for it, head tilted back so far that it almost hurts, meeting his thrusts as best
he can with how spread open he is.
"God, you're /so/ fucking good," Dazai groans out, the hand on his hip sliding up to find one of his nipples and twisting it, a point of pleasure-pain that makes him shudder, mouth opening.
"Take it like you were /made/ for me," he continues,
"God, you're /so/ fucking good," Dazai groans out, the hand on his hip sliding up to find one of his nipples and twisting it, a point of pleasure-pain that makes him shudder, mouth opening.
"Take it like you were /made/ for me," he continues,
and if the /pleasure/ weren't enough to having him losing his mind-- and it is, god, it is-- his /voice/ would do it, deep and rough and soaked with possession. "/Mine/ to fuck, mine to fill, mine, mine, /mine/."
Yes, yes, he's /right/, Chuuya is /his/, he belongs to him, wants
Yes, yes, he's /right/, Chuuya is /his/, he belongs to him, wants
nothing more, yes, yes, /good/, /so/ fucking good--
The next thrust is nearly /brutal/, ramming so hard into his prostate that it makes him choke with shock. His leg squeezes his waist weakly,and when Dazai does it /again/, aiming for that spot with single-minded determination--
The next thrust is nearly /brutal/, ramming so hard into his prostate that it makes him choke with shock. His leg squeezes his waist weakly,and when Dazai does it /again/, aiming for that spot with single-minded determination--
He's not going to last. It's too much, and even if Dazai hasn't touched his erection /once/ since the beginning, this is good enough on it's own. The intermittent brushes against their stomachs is more than enough, flinging him higher and higher until the air feels too thin to
breathe.
"I'm--" he starts, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, like that might help him gather any thoughts past the rapture roaring through his veins, "I'm gonna--"
He gets cut off by another choked moan as Dazai slams in and /stays/ there, forcing his body to accept all of him.
"I'm--" he starts, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, like that might help him gather any thoughts past the rapture roaring through his veins, "I'm gonna--"
He gets cut off by another choked moan as Dazai slams in and /stays/ there, forcing his body to accept all of him.
As always, his aim is criminally on point,and his prostate gets /abused/.
"You're /what/, Chuuya?"
/Fuck/, the pet names were bad enough, but his /name/, his fucking /name/, rolling off his tongue like sin and wine, sends a thrill flashing down his spine. So hot he doesn't even
"You're /what/, Chuuya?"
/Fuck/, the pet names were bad enough, but his /name/, his fucking /name/, rolling off his tongue like sin and wine, sends a thrill flashing down his spine. So hot he doesn't even
think before opening his mouth again--
"Gonna come," he pants, squirming. Pleasure like this is /good/, in a deeper way, crawling into his very heart.
Dazai's smile is feral, pleased, full of sharp teeth and possession. "Yeah," he agrees, voice like warm silk, "You are. But
"Gonna come," he pants, squirming. Pleasure like this is /good/, in a deeper way, crawling into his very heart.
Dazai's smile is feral, pleased, full of sharp teeth and possession. "Yeah," he agrees, voice like warm silk, "You are. But
first, I want you to do something."
Hesitating is not something that even occurs to him, nodding and nodding. He'll do anything, he swears, anything for the jackhammer-pleasure being shoved into him just a /little/ longer.
Squeezing his hand, Dazai leans down, until his breath
Hesitating is not something that even occurs to him, nodding and nodding. He'll do anything, he swears, anything for the jackhammer-pleasure being shoved into him just a /little/ longer.
Squeezing his hand, Dazai leans down, until his breath
washes hot over his ear.Chuuya arches up to meet him, shivering at the press of their skin together.The places where their bodies meet is messy with sweat and lube,but each slick slide feels /so/ good.
Pulling out slowly and hovering there, teasing, Dazai murmurs, "Say my name."
Pulling out slowly and hovering there, teasing, Dazai murmurs, "Say my name."
Without a second thought, a whispered “Dazai” is escaping his lips, voice made rough and hazy from his moaning. He squeezes his hand at the same time, an acknowledgment of their connection, and his heel is planted in Dazai’s back, /trying/ to get him to move.
He feels empty
He feels empty
without him buried to the hilt inside him, is starting to slowly cool down now that the march of relentless pleasure has paused. It’s frustrating, makes him needy, makes him want to /cry/—
“No,” Dazai mutters into his ear, hips flexing to give him an inch and then back out
“No,” Dazai mutters into his ear, hips flexing to give him an inch and then back out
again, a tease, a /temptation/. “That’s not what I want. My /name/, Chuuya. You know what it is.”
He /does/, he just hasn’t said it before and it’s surprisingly hard to gather the syllables in his mouth, tasting the weight and the /meaning/ of them in his mouth—
“I want to
He /does/, he just hasn’t said it before and it’s surprisingly hard to gather the syllables in his mouth, tasting the weight and the /meaning/ of them in his mouth—
“I want to
hear you say it.”
It feels right to say it for the first time when they’re as close as they can get, when Chuuya is strung out on the emotional high and physical pleasure. Feels right when Dazai hasn’t let go of his hand this entire time.
“Osamu,” he whimpers, tightening his
It feels right to say it for the first time when they’re as close as they can get, when Chuuya is strung out on the emotional high and physical pleasure. Feels right when Dazai hasn’t let go of his hand this entire time.
“Osamu,” he whimpers, tightening his
leg around him, trying to drag him in—
He doesn’t need to, because as soon as Dazai registers the sound, as soon as he /understands/, breath hitching—
His hips are snapping forward again, filling him so quickly Chuuya can only go wide-eyed in shock. Pulling out just to slam
He doesn’t need to, because as soon as Dazai registers the sound, as soon as he /understands/, breath hitching—
His hips are snapping forward again, filling him so quickly Chuuya can only go wide-eyed in shock. Pulling out just to slam
back in again, setting a pace that is fast and hard and /pointed/, dragging him out to sea to drown in ecstasy.
With their height difference, they can’t really kiss like this, especially for long, but Dazai sneaks one in. It’s quick, filled with desperation and the sound of
With their height difference, they can’t really kiss like this, especially for long, but Dazai sneaks one in. It’s quick, filled with desperation and the sound of
moans.
“Say it again.”
“Osamu.” Tilting his hips up to get that much better of an angle, crying out when the head of Dazai’s cock slams into his prostate on every thrust in, drags over it on the slide /out/, a constant stream of sensation that’s breaking him apart.
“Again.”
“Say it again.”
“Osamu.” Tilting his hips up to get that much better of an angle, crying out when the head of Dazai’s cock slams into his prostate on every thrust in, drags over it on the slide /out/, a constant stream of sensation that’s breaking him apart.
“Again.”
“Osamu—,” Building /up/, reaching the peak where everything blurs together into searing, white-hot ecstasy, melting him down into base need, a raw animal, strung thin and drawing tight under the tension, /so close/—
“Again.”
“/Osamu—!”
When the tension snaps, it’s like a
“Again.”
“/Osamu—!”
When the tension snaps, it’s like a
breaking of a dam. For a second, it’s just silence, everything going still—
And then comes the /flood/, pouring over him from head to toe. Drenching him in sparkling, liquid-fire pleasure until even his toes are tingling, so good he can barely /breathe/ around the weight of it.
And then comes the /flood/, pouring over him from head to toe. Drenching him in sparkling, liquid-fire pleasure until even his toes are tingling, so good he can barely /breathe/ around the weight of it.
All he can do is ride it out, jerking under Dazai with each wave, clinging onto him with what little strength he has as Dazai pushes him higher, hips moving without pause.
“Should I come inside you or /on/ you, mark you up until everyone knows you’re /mine/?”
It doesn’t
“Should I come inside you or /on/ you, mark you up until everyone knows you’re /mine/?”
It doesn’t
/sound/ like a question, growled into his ear, but it’s phrased like one, and Chuuya only has one answer—
Wrapping his leg tighter, squeezing his hand, raking the nails of his other hand over his back and shoulder as Dazai /speeds up/—
“Inside me, please— want it.”
Wrapping his leg tighter, squeezing his hand, raking the nails of his other hand over his back and shoulder as Dazai /speeds up/—
“Inside me, please— want it.”
The next thrust is /brutal/, making Chuuya cry out a strangled version of his name as pleasure turns into over-sensitivity, turns into burning, electric sensation.
Saying his name just makes him slam into him /harder/, and for the next minute, all Chuuya can do is hold on for
Saying his name just makes him slam into him /harder/, and for the next minute, all Chuuya can do is hold on for
dear life with choked, high-pitched keens, nails digging into his shoulder as Dazai fucks him like he’s trying to /break/ him—
Teeth find his shoulder, sinking in near-painfully. “Chuuya,” gets smothered int his skin, a rough groan that makes his body clench in reaction—
Teeth find his shoulder, sinking in near-painfully. “Chuuya,” gets smothered int his skin, a rough groan that makes his body clench in reaction—
With one last pump of his hips, he buries himself as deeply as he can get, staying there. There’s another groan, this one mangled and incomprehensible as Dazai’s orgasm hits him.
Making Dazai come in /any/ sense is satisfying, but this is Chuuya’s favorite way yet. He can feel
Making Dazai come in /any/ sense is satisfying, but this is Chuuya’s favorite way yet. He can feel
twitching, the wet burst of warmth as he spills inside him, hot and sticky. It’s much better than him cumming on his face or his ass like he did before, because this fills him with a raw, primal satisfaction, like he /won/.
He did it. He /did it/.
He also wants to do it
He did it. He /did it/.
He also wants to do it
/again/. Like right now.
Maybe all /night/, even, their flight isn’t until early afternoon tomorrow, that’s at least twelve hours that they can get in as many orgasms as physically possible—
His world spins abruptly, Dazai quickly reversing their positions so that Chuuya is
Maybe all /night/, even, their flight isn’t until early afternoon tomorrow, that’s at least twelve hours that they can get in as many orgasms as physically possible—
His world spins abruptly, Dazai quickly reversing their positions so that Chuuya is
sprawled over his chest instead of crushed under him. The movement makes his softening cock slip out of him, and the resulting spill of warm cum sliding down his inner thighs is /weird/ but also...
Kind of soothing? Satisfying, but now that his body is starting to cool down
Kind of soothing? Satisfying, but now that his body is starting to cool down
entirely, the /ache/ is beginning to set in. Nothing too terrible yet, but his thighs feel overworked and weak from the strain. His ass is beginning to burn,and there's a deep-set ache building at the base of his spine and in his lower back.
On second thought-- if he's /already/
On second thought-- if he's /already/
starting to get sore, only a handful of minutes after it ended-- nothing /else/ is happening tonight. He smothers a pout into Dazai's chest, stretching out until he finds the most comfortable position.
Fingers--from Dazai's clean hand, thankfully-- stroke through his hair,
Fingers--from Dazai's clean hand, thankfully-- stroke through his hair,
pulling it out of his face. "How do you feel?"
Chuuya considers that for a moment. Nothing /bad/, nothing urgent or debilitating-- but now he's slightly worried about their flight in the morning because--
How is he supposed to /sit down/? Even laying down like this, just
Chuuya considers that for a moment. Nothing /bad/, nothing urgent or debilitating-- but now he's slightly worried about their flight in the morning because--
How is he supposed to /sit down/? Even laying down like this, just
/breathing/ makes quiet pangs of pain arch through him.
Suddenly, he's grateful that Dazai has been working him up to this for /weeks/, because if he had gone from a complete virgin to taking that /massive/ dick, he might not have /survived/.
Worth it, though.
"Good," he
Suddenly, he's grateful that Dazai has been working him up to this for /weeks/, because if he had gone from a complete virgin to taking that /massive/ dick, he might not have /survived/.
Worth it, though.
"Good," he
murmurs,tucking his nose into Dazai's neck. It's true, he does feel good, the pleasant limpness that accompanies a /really/ good orgasm. "I'm gonna be sore as hell though."
(Dazai /really/ tries not to feel too smug about that, but--
He's just a /man/, you know, and he /likes/
(Dazai /really/ tries not to feel too smug about that, but--
He's just a /man/, you know, and he /likes/
seeing the after-effects of sex on his partners. Like bruises and bitemarks and /soreness/, especially when he wasn't even going that hard to begin with.
Makes some primal, instinctual part of him preen with satisfaction that Chuuya will feel him for /hours/.)
"I'm sorry," he
Makes some primal, instinctual part of him preen with satisfaction that Chuuya will feel him for /hours/.)
"I'm sorry," he
says, his other hand finding Chuuya's lower back. Slick fingers dig into his muscles, massaging away some of the growing aches with firm strokes.
Sighing, Chuuya relaxes into it. "You don't /sound/ sorry," he grumbles teasingly. Dazai sounded like he was trying to cover up
Sighing, Chuuya relaxes into it. "You don't /sound/ sorry," he grumbles teasingly. Dazai sounded like he was trying to cover up
/pride/, like trying to hide a smile but not quite managing it.
"Well..." he draws out, snickering when Chuuya smacks at his ribs with a mock-offended growl.
They spend a few minutes like that, sprawled against each other and soaking up skin contact with lazy indulgence.
"Well..." he draws out, snickering when Chuuya smacks at his ribs with a mock-offended growl.
They spend a few minutes like that, sprawled against each other and soaking up skin contact with lazy indulgence.
Eventually, the sweat and other fluid drying on their skin starts to get gross and uncomfortable. It makes their bodies stick together in odd places.
"We should shower," Dazai sighs again, digging his fingers into a spot just above Chuuya's tailbone that makes him melt into the
"We should shower," Dazai sighs again, digging his fingers into a spot just above Chuuya's tailbone that makes him melt into the
pressure.
"Okay," he agrees easily, sliding his hands over Dazai's shoulders. "Come in with me?"
It's a pointed question and /maybe/ he's playing dirty by using their newfound relationship and his muscle aches to his advantage--
But he's not sure he can /actually/ stand by
"Okay," he agrees easily, sliding his hands over Dazai's shoulders. "Come in with me?"
It's a pointed question and /maybe/ he's playing dirty by using their newfound relationship and his muscle aches to his advantage--
But he's not sure he can /actually/ stand by
himself right now, and now that they're /boyfriends/, and had /sex/--
Maybe Dazai's whole 'you can't see me naked' thing doesn't count anymore. Technically, he's already naked, save for the bandages--which are loose now-- around his chest.
There's something incredibly tempting
Maybe Dazai's whole 'you can't see me naked' thing doesn't count anymore. Technically, he's already naked, save for the bandages--which are loose now-- around his chest.
There's something incredibly tempting
about the thought of showering with his /boyfriend/, and he wants it, so bad.
He doesn't know what Dazai is so wary of because the man is /absurdly/ attractive, from the tip of his wild hair to his well-cut abs to his dick to his thick thighs. The only thing Chuuya can think of
He doesn't know what Dazai is so wary of because the man is /absurdly/ attractive, from the tip of his wild hair to his well-cut abs to his dick to his thick thighs. The only thing Chuuya can think of
that he'd be nervous over would be the scars on his wrist.
That's nothing to be /embarrassed/ over. It's sad, but that doesn't mean he has to /hide/.
Chuuya wishes he had the right words to say to reassure him that he doesn't have to keep himself covered up because Chuuya
That's nothing to be /embarrassed/ over. It's sad, but that doesn't mean he has to /hide/.
Chuuya wishes he had the right words to say to reassure him that he doesn't have to keep himself covered up because Chuuya
won't judge him or make him feel bad, or anything.
But he's always been bad at words,so all he can do is keep asking, with that gentle, pleading tone in his voice and hope that /one day/, Dazai trusts him enough.
It's silent for long enough that Chuuya is beginning to silently
But he's always been bad at words,so all he can do is keep asking, with that gentle, pleading tone in his voice and hope that /one day/, Dazai trusts him enough.
It's silent for long enough that Chuuya is beginning to silently
resign himself to a sponge bath. Even his fingers have stilled, tangled in his hair and spread out over his lower back.
"Okay," Dazai finally agrees,his voice oddly quiet and subdued. "But you can't ask questions."
Chuuya can do that. If that's what makes him comfortable, he'll
"Okay," Dazai finally agrees,his voice oddly quiet and subdued. "But you can't ask questions."
Chuuya can do that. If that's what makes him comfortable, he'll
keep his mouth shut and not ask a single question about...
Whatever Dazai doesn't want him to see.
He can be quiet.
Nodding, he confirms without hesitating, hoping his quick response will help to put him at ease. "I won't."
Some part of Dazai, one he hadn't even realized
Whatever Dazai doesn't want him to see.
He can be quiet.
Nodding, he confirms without hesitating, hoping his quick response will help to put him at ease. "I won't."
Some part of Dazai, one he hadn't even realized
had begun to tense, relaxes. He turns his head, pressing a kiss onto the top of his head. Chuuya pushes into him with a small smile, accepting the affection easily.
Moving to the bathroom is a slow process. Dazai does end up carrying him, but the hard counter under Chuuya's ass
Moving to the bathroom is a slow process. Dazai does end up carrying him, but the hard counter under Chuuya's ass
makes him hiss in discomfort, shifting awkwardly.
Dazai turns away to turn on the shower, but Chuuya can see the smug little smirk he has on his face.
(Is Dazai stalling by making sure the shower is turned to the exact right temperature, pointed in the right direction and that
Dazai turns away to turn on the shower, but Chuuya can see the smug little smirk he has on his face.
(Is Dazai stalling by making sure the shower is turned to the exact right temperature, pointed in the right direction and that
all the soaps are within easy reach? Yes.
Would he ever admit to it? No.
But /fuck/, this is harder than he thought it would be, especially now that he's gotten /attached/. Maybe he should've told him earlier, or maybe they should be having an actual conversation instead of
Would he ever admit to it? No.
But /fuck/, this is harder than he thought it would be, especially now that he's gotten /attached/. Maybe he should've told him earlier, or maybe they should be having an actual conversation instead of
a silent reveal of his years-old tattoos but--
How are you /supposed/ to have that conversation?
'Hey, I used to kill people as much job, and torture them for a sick thrill! Hope that's okay with you.'?
'When I was your age, I was already on Japan's most wanted list.'?
How?
How are you /supposed/ to have that conversation?
'Hey, I used to kill people as much job, and torture them for a sick thrill! Hope that's okay with you.'?
'When I was your age, I was already on Japan's most wanted list.'?
How?
And Chuuya /deserves/ to know, and Dazai /does/ want to tell him, some day,if their relationship is still going--
But for once in his life, his tongue is thick and his mouth, and his stomach is turning at the thought of the trusting, soft look in those baby blue eyes he /adores/
But for once in his life, his tongue is thick and his mouth, and his stomach is turning at the thought of the trusting, soft look in those baby blue eyes he /adores/
turning into hatred or disgust--
Or even worse, /fear/.
He would be right to feel that way,and Dazai wouldn't ever blame him for it,but that doesn't mean the thought doesn't make him feel vaguely sick.
He has to brace himself to start unwrapping the bandages around his chest.)
Or even worse, /fear/.
He would be right to feel that way,and Dazai wouldn't ever blame him for it,but that doesn't mean the thought doesn't make him feel vaguely sick.
He has to brace himself to start unwrapping the bandages around his chest.)
Watching Dazai undo the bandages around his chest is... an interesting thing.
From a purely aesthetic standpoint, watching the muscles in his back and shoulders flex as he unwinds the fabric is /attractive/, and it's made even better by the fact that his ass is /right/ there,
From a purely aesthetic standpoint, watching the muscles in his back and shoulders flex as he unwinds the fabric is /attractive/, and it's made even better by the fact that his ass is /right/ there,
round and biteable.
But it also feels like a sacred moment,like something Chuuya isn't supposed to be watching? Something that's meant to be private, but he's intruding.
After a moment, he ends up looking away to give him some privacy, finger-combing through his hair to get rid
But it also feels like a sacred moment,like something Chuuya isn't supposed to be watching? Something that's meant to be private, but he's intruding.
After a moment, he ends up looking away to give him some privacy, finger-combing through his hair to get rid
of the worst tangles. He should wash it,but he's getting tired and he'll have to shower after their flight tomorrow anyways, so he'll just do it then. Using the hair tie on his wrist, he secures it in a bun on the top of his head to keep it out of the water.
Steam is filling the
Steam is filling the
room, suffusing the space with warmth.
Assumingly the hotel doesn't have limited hot water, but he's /cold/, so he wants to get in as soon as possible. He moves to hop down, bracing himself to land--
Then Dazai is turning around and finally Chuuya sees why he wanted to hide.
Assumingly the hotel doesn't have limited hot water, but he's /cold/, so he wants to get in as soon as possible. He moves to hop down, bracing himself to land--
Then Dazai is turning around and finally Chuuya sees why he wanted to hide.
Oh.
There,on the left side of his chest and following the curve of his shoulder up and down part of his arm are--
/Tattoos/.
Koi fish, most notably,swirling around each other and tangled up with strands of strands of cherry blossoms. The entire piece is done in reds and blues,
There,on the left side of his chest and following the curve of his shoulder up and down part of his arm are--
/Tattoos/.
Koi fish, most notably,swirling around each other and tangled up with strands of strands of cherry blossoms. The entire piece is done in reds and blues,
and it was probably once vivid and brilliant at one point--
It still looks /good/, but it's faded now, like he's had it for years.
The sight of it gives Chuuya a bit of a pause. Because while tattoos /are/ becoming more accepted in this day and age, especially with the influx
It still looks /good/, but it's faded now, like he's had it for years.
The sight of it gives Chuuya a bit of a pause. Because while tattoos /are/ becoming more accepted in this day and age, especially with the influx
of tourism and globalism, but that's typically in /Chuuya's/ generation. Not Dazai's.
In /that/ generation, typically the only people who had tattoos were--
Yakuza.
Vaguely, he remembers that koi fish were typical symbols in Yakuza imagery. Same thing with cherry blossoms.
In /that/ generation, typically the only people who had tattoos were--
Yakuza.
Vaguely, he remembers that koi fish were typical symbols in Yakuza imagery. Same thing with cherry blossoms.
They meant preserving through hard times,and the fleetingness of life, or something like that. He remembers the blue koi fish meant something special,but he doesn't remember what.
Now he wishes he had spent more time paying attention during that history lesson because...
Is he?
Now he wishes he had spent more time paying attention during that history lesson because...
Is he?
There /are/ some parts of his life that don't add up, admittedly. The security company Chuuya /still/ doesn't know the name of,the fact that he hasn't actually /seen/ him do any work or any mention of it. The highly trained guard dogs.
But--
Why would a Yakuza member want to be
But--
Why would a Yakuza member want to be
involved with /him/? He's just an ordinary college student. He's not even that smart, for fucks sake.
And /sure/, there are moments when Dazai is scary but anyone can be scary if they really want to be, especially when you're as tall as Dazai is.
Besides, would a ruthless
And /sure/, there are moments when Dazai is scary but anyone can be scary if they really want to be, especially when you're as tall as Dazai is.
Besides, would a ruthless
criminal spend /weeks/ building him up to sex? Would a criminal be so /nice/ to him? Make him feel safe and secure? Agree to be the boyfriend of an ordinary college student?
Why would he do any of that, if he was dangerous? It doesn't make sense. Chuuya's pretty sure that the
Why would he do any of that, if he was dangerous? It doesn't make sense. Chuuya's pretty sure that the
M.O of the Yakuza is to leave people worse off than when you found them.
And Chuuya can say, without a single doubt, that his life is /better/ with Dazai in it.
So... maybe there's a different explanation. He shouldn't just jump to conclusions-- because he's already /shown/ he
And Chuuya can say, without a single doubt, that his life is /better/ with Dazai in it.
So... maybe there's a different explanation. He shouldn't just jump to conclusions-- because he's already /shown/ he
has a bad record of assuming things that turned out to be wrong-- and he should actually /ask/ Dazai about it before he starts freaking out or anything like that.
Not today though. He can see the way Dazai's chest is tense with worry, and he already agreed not to ask questions
Not today though. He can see the way Dazai's chest is tense with worry, and he already agreed not to ask questions
today. Waiting a few extra days or even weeks,won't hurt, right?
(It will. It definitely will, but neither of them know that /yet/.)
So instead of letting the questions on the tip of his tongue escape, he just smiles at him and silently raises his arms so he can be brought into
(It will. It definitely will, but neither of them know that /yet/.)
So instead of letting the questions on the tip of his tongue escape, he just smiles at him and silently raises his arms so he can be brought into
the shower.
Dazai's slight smile, lopsided and with just a /hint/ of the dimple Chuuya adores, makes it worth the wait.
His knees are still weak, so he spends most of the shower leaning up against Dazai and soaking up the heat on his sore muscles. Dazai washes him from head to
Dazai's slight smile, lopsided and with just a /hint/ of the dimple Chuuya adores, makes it worth the wait.
His knees are still weak, so he spends most of the shower leaning up against Dazai and soaking up the heat on his sore muscles. Dazai washes him from head to
toe with a quiet, dedicated care that makes Chuuya feel /cherished/. Makes his heart feel three sizes too big for his chest, and his cheeks hurt from smiling.
And when he steals the washcloth from him and in turn, washes Dazai's forearms and chest, and the /other/ tattoos that
And when he steals the washcloth from him and in turn, washes Dazai's forearms and chest, and the /other/ tattoos that
were previously hidden under a thick layer of foundation come into view...
He doesn't ask questions about those either. He brushes his fingers over the empty eyes of the red and black dragon, but he doesn't /ask/.
"They're beautiful," he says instead, quiet under the roar of
He doesn't ask questions about those either. He brushes his fingers over the empty eyes of the red and black dragon, but he doesn't /ask/.
"They're beautiful," he says instead, quiet under the roar of
the shower. They /are/, they're elegant and graceful and ripple with the movements of his forearms--
But they also look /sad/ almost. Especially the dragon, which looks half-finished with it's empty eyes and only half-colored in.
(Dazai wishes that comment didn't mean so much
But they also look /sad/ almost. Especially the dragon, which looks half-finished with it's empty eyes and only half-colored in.
(Dazai wishes that comment didn't mean so much
to him because--
They /aren't/ beautiful. They are marks of pain and blood and terror. Physical remnants of the worst years of Dazai's life, ones he cant scrub away or escape.
He doesn't deserve to escape them.
Part of him wants to peel away whatever thoughts Chuuya has come
They /aren't/ beautiful. They are marks of pain and blood and terror. Physical remnants of the worst years of Dazai's life, ones he cant scrub away or escape.
He doesn't deserve to escape them.
Part of him wants to peel away whatever thoughts Chuuya has come
to on them and show him what they /really/ mean, who Dazai /really/ is but--
He just wants to /savor/ this, for a little longer. He wants to feel beautiful and accepted, just for a little longer.)
When they're washed off and clean, Dazai drags him into his arms and presses him
He just wants to /savor/ this, for a little longer. He wants to feel beautiful and accepted, just for a little longer.)
When they're washed off and clean, Dazai drags him into his arms and presses him
against the shower wall and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, until Chuuya's entire world is the water raining down on them and the taste of Dazai on his tongue.
------ +
Chuuya was right. He is /sore/ in the morning. Again, nothing deblitating and he /can/ walk, but
------ +
Chuuya was right. He is /sore/ in the morning. Again, nothing deblitating and he /can/ walk, but
it's just pressing enough that there's a constant, slightly uncomfortable ache.
It eases once he's able to do some stretches and eases even more when he gets moving, but he's once again struck with gratefulness that Dazai worked him up to sex instead of just fucking him the
It eases once he's able to do some stretches and eases even more when he gets moving, but he's once again struck with gratefulness that Dazai worked him up to sex instead of just fucking him the
/first/ time he asked because he probably would've needed a damn /wheelchair/ after that.
As it is, he has a constant slight limp that makes him grumpy and irritable at all the people shooting him concerned looks over it. It /also/ makes him a little grumpy with /Dazai/ for
As it is, he has a constant slight limp that makes him grumpy and irritable at all the people shooting him concerned looks over it. It /also/ makes him a little grumpy with /Dazai/ for
looking so damn smug about it--
So he makes him carry /all/ of his stuff in petty revenge. Not that Dazai ever complains or even blinks when Chuuya asks but--
He's limping because of him, it's only fair.
This time, they're one of the last ones on the plane, and Dazai barely
So he makes him carry /all/ of his stuff in petty revenge. Not that Dazai ever complains or even blinks when Chuuya asks but--
He's limping because of him, it's only fair.
This time, they're one of the last ones on the plane, and Dazai barely
gets their bags in the overhead compartment before the steward is calling their attention to the front for a safety briefing.
"So," Dazai asks,sitting in the aisle seat. Even with the extra room, his long legs still look cramped. "Still interested in joining the mile high club?"
"So," Dazai asks,sitting in the aisle seat. Even with the extra room, his long legs still look cramped. "Still interested in joining the mile high club?"
Chuuya blinks, a little startled. He'd nearly forgotten about that entirely. "Sure," he says, unsure of what to expect but not backing out.
Dazai's smile is secretive. "Alright. Then, when the seatbelt sign goes off, go into the bathroom and wait for me. I'll knock five times."
Dazai's smile is secretive. "Alright. Then, when the seatbelt sign goes off, go into the bathroom and wait for me. I'll knock five times."
Why do they have to go into the bathroom? Aren't those gross? Why can't they just do it out here, whatever it is?
He shoots him a confused look, silently begging him to explain, but Dazai just opens up a magazine and browses it idly, ignoring him. Jerk.
Takeoff is less exciting
He shoots him a confused look, silently begging him to explain, but Dazai just opens up a magazine and browses it idly, ignoring him. Jerk.
Takeoff is less exciting
than the first time, and the added pressure on his body makes him wiggle uncomfortably in his seat.
Once they climb to cruising height, the seatbelt light is turning off with a silent /ding!/. Chuuya hesitates, wondering if he should wait for a moment before going but Dazai
Once they climb to cruising height, the seatbelt light is turning off with a silent /ding!/. Chuuya hesitates, wondering if he should wait for a moment before going but Dazai
waves him on with his magazine, moving his legs to give him space.
And well--
Chuuya is not a coward, so he goes.
The bathroom is at the front of the plane, near the little room the plane stewards get, and the cockpit with the pilots. He slides in, locking the door after him.
And well--
Chuuya is not a coward, so he goes.
The bathroom is at the front of the plane, near the little room the plane stewards get, and the cockpit with the pilots. He slides in, locking the door after him.
It's roomier than he expected, and it's spotlessly clean, so at least there's that. One of his friends from high school had told him horror stories about plane bathrooms, but it seems that doesn't apply to the first class section of the plane. Even the mirror is spotless.
It even smells like faint lemon cleaner--
Five knocks.
Heartrate spiking and excitement beginning to pulse through him-- because this feels /dangerous/, like they're doing something they're not supposed to-- he unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch.
He's not sure what
Five knocks.
Heartrate spiking and excitement beginning to pulse through him-- because this feels /dangerous/, like they're doing something they're not supposed to-- he unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch.
He's not sure what
he's expecting, maybe for Dazai to pull him out or give him something to do but--
He's /not/ expecting Dazai to push open the door, slide inside and locking the door in one smooth movement and then--
And then he's /on/ him, hands cupping his face and dragging him /up/ into a
He's /not/ expecting Dazai to push open the door, slide inside and locking the door in one smooth movement and then--
And then he's /on/ him, hands cupping his face and dragging him /up/ into a
brutal, frenetic kiss, all tongue and teeth and lips sliding over his with a desperate,frantic sort of energy that Chuuya hasn't felt before.
All things considered, Dazai has always been rather careful with him, especially as they warm up together, so the feeling of being kissed
All things considered, Dazai has always been rather careful with him, especially as they warm up together, so the feeling of being kissed
like they don't have /time/, like the only thing Dazai can think of is kissing him harder, /faster/, deeper as he turns them around to pin him up against the door--
It has him /breathless/, flinging his arms around his neck to hold onto him tightly, kissing him back as best he
It has him /breathless/, flinging his arms around his neck to hold onto him tightly, kissing him back as best he
can, trying to keep up--
It's only when Dazai's hands slide /down/, hooking in the waistband of his jeans and tugging on them as he pops the button, that Chuuya begins to understand.
"It's /sex/?" He hisses, unreasonably offended, "The mile high club is /sex in an airplane/?!"
It's only when Dazai's hands slide /down/, hooking in the waistband of his jeans and tugging on them as he pops the button, that Chuuya begins to understand.
"It's /sex/?" He hisses, unreasonably offended, "The mile high club is /sex in an airplane/?!"
"Yeah," Dazai says breathlessly against his lips, a smile in his voice. "You in?"
And--
If Dazai had told him even /minutes/ ago, before he had come in here or before he had kissed him--
The answer would have been a /firm/ no. No hesitation. Just no.
But now? After being
And--
If Dazai had told him even /minutes/ ago, before he had come in here or before he had kissed him--
The answer would have been a /firm/ no. No hesitation. Just no.
But now? After being
kissed like /that/, with Dazai's boyish, mischievous smile in his hand, with long fingers yanking his waistband down and brushing over his rapidly-hardening cock?
How is he supposed to tell /that/ face no? Especially know how /good/ it feels?
"Hurry up, baby," Dazai says,
How is he supposed to tell /that/ face no? Especially know how /good/ it feels?
"Hurry up, baby," Dazai says,
reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, travel-sized bottle of lube and shaking it at him teasingly, "we're running on limited time here."
God, /okay/, this has got to be the craziest thing Chuuya has ever done, but--
"Hurry up then," he hisses, shoving his hand into
God, /okay/, this has got to be the craziest thing Chuuya has ever done, but--
"Hurry up then," he hisses, shoving his hand into
Dazai's pants to wrap about /his/ cock in a petty act of getting even. If /he's/ going to be driven crazy, then he's not going to be the only one.
Of course, the upper hand he has on the situation lasts about thirsty seconds.
Flashing him a cocky grin, Dazai spins him around.
Of course, the upper hand he has on the situation lasts about thirsty seconds.
Flashing him a cocky grin, Dazai spins him around.
His pants get yanked down, just far enough for Dazai to have access to his /ass/ and then lube-slick fingers are pressing against his entrance.
Hissing lightly at the friction, Chuuya leans his forehead against the door and focuses on his breathing. It doesn't hurt /too/ much,
Hissing lightly at the friction, Chuuya leans his forehead against the door and focuses on his breathing. It doesn't hurt /too/ much,
and the pleasurable friction of his jeans against his erection /is/ helping, but he's not even sure if he can /do/ this--
Teeth find the curve of his shoulder, biting into one of his favorite spots at the /same/ time the top of Dazai's finger slips inside him and it's /good/.
Teeth find the curve of his shoulder, biting into one of his favorite spots at the /same/ time the top of Dazai's finger slips inside him and it's /good/.
The stretch burns more than it has ever before, but not /painful/. The ache is offset by the way Dazai is marking up his neck and shoulders over his shirt with single-minded ferocity, sinking his teeth in and sucking until he's shuddering in reaction. His other hand is sliding
around to his front, dipping into his waistband to find his erection.
The way his hand wraps around it, focusing on the end, makes it clear he's trying to get Chuuya to come as quickly at possible.
Then his fingers--two now-- find his prostate and /zero in/ on it, massaging
The way his hand wraps around it, focusing on the end, makes it clear he's trying to get Chuuya to come as quickly at possible.
Then his fingers--two now-- find his prostate and /zero in/ on it, massaging
it until a choked moan is falling from his lips.
Dazai slides up, pressing his cheek against Chuuya's jaw. He's hot and heavy and hard behind him, covering him completely.
"Shh," he whispers into his ear, breath hot, "You have to be /quiet/, or everyone's going to know."
Dazai slides up, pressing his cheek against Chuuya's jaw. He's hot and heavy and hard behind him, covering him completely.
"Shh," he whispers into his ear, breath hot, "You have to be /quiet/, or everyone's going to know."
How the /hell/ is he supposed to be quiet when Dazai is jacking him off in short, messy strokes over the head /and/ his fingers are knuckle deep inside him and /milking/ his prostate until mind-numbing pleasure is overcoming the burning ache?
Blinking open his eyes--when did he
Blinking open his eyes--when did he
close them?-- he goes to tell him that he's /trying/--
But then his eyes snag on the sight of them in the mirror, and his mind spins away from him.
Dazai is enveloping him completely, /huge/ and dark behind him. He can see his wrist working and /feel/ the way his fingers are
But then his eyes snag on the sight of them in the mirror, and his mind spins away from him.
Dazai is enveloping him completely, /huge/ and dark behind him. He can see his wrist working and /feel/ the way his fingers are
pumping into him. In front of him, nearly covered by the baggy shirt Chuuya is wearing, he can catch glimpses of his fist working over him, pushing liquid pleasure into his veins.
From this angle, he can't see Dazai's face, but he can see his own and--
He looks /slutty/. Eyes
From this angle, he can't see Dazai's face, but he can see his own and--
He looks /slutty/. Eyes
half-lidded, dark in his face. There's a rising blush on his cheeks, sliding down his face. His lips are bitten red and half-open with gasps, tiny moans pushed out of him with the sharp movements of Dazai's wrists.
Letting himself get fingered in an airplane bathroom, not even a
Letting himself get fingered in an airplane bathroom, not even a
whole day after losing his virginity.
The burning pleasure-pain is overwhelming. Every time Dazai pushes his fingers deeper or stretches him farther it /hurts/, but the twin sensations of his prostate being /assaulted/ and his erection being ruthlessly stroked is overriding it,
The burning pleasure-pain is overwhelming. Every time Dazai pushes his fingers deeper or stretches him farther it /hurts/, but the twin sensations of his prostate being /assaulted/ and his erection being ruthlessly stroked is overriding it,
mixing into this intoxicating feeling that fills him up completely, until he can't do /anything/ else except go limp against the door and /take it/.
They should stop. He knows that but the thing that comes out of his mouth is--
"/More/."
(Dazai had /reasonably/ decent
They should stop. He knows that but the thing that comes out of his mouth is--
"/More/."
(Dazai had /reasonably/ decent
intentions, he swears.
Was it a bit of a mean trick /not/ to tell Chuuya what the mile high club was? Yeah, probably, but he never claimed to be a /nice/ man.
And he /intended/ to get Chuuya to come as quickly as possible with just his fingers and hands, because they only
Was it a bit of a mean trick /not/ to tell Chuuya what the mile high club was? Yeah, probably, but he never claimed to be a /nice/ man.
And he /intended/ to get Chuuya to come as quickly as possible with just his fingers and hands, because they only
have about twenty minutes max, and Dazai likes to spend at /least/ that amount of time on foreplay. They're both used to that, and it's probably the /main/ reason Chuuya can take him as well as he can--
Because he's half out of his mind with lust and need by the time Dazai even
Because he's half out of his mind with lust and need by the time Dazai even
pulls his cock out of his pants.
But how is he supposed to tell him /no/? How is he supposed to deny him when he's all pink-faced and hard for him, desperately rocking back onto his fingers and clenching up around him in deliciously tempting waves, when he's being /so/ pretty
But how is he supposed to tell him /no/? How is he supposed to deny him when he's all pink-faced and hard for him, desperately rocking back onto his fingers and clenching up around him in deliciously tempting waves, when he's being /so/ pretty
and /good/ and quiet for him?
How is he supposed to tell /that/ face no?)
"Fuck," Dazai hisses into his ear, making him shudder. He sounds /undone/, even though he hasn't gotten any direct attention since Chuuya stuck his hands down his pants earlier.
Still, his crotch is
How is he supposed to tell /that/ face no?)
"Fuck," Dazai hisses into his ear, making him shudder. He sounds /undone/, even though he hasn't gotten any direct attention since Chuuya stuck his hands down his pants earlier.
Still, his crotch is
grinding against Chuuya's ass, and he can /feel/ how hard he is, practically throbbing even through the material of his jeans and he /wants/ it.
Might /die/ without it, actually, wants nothing more than to be impaled on Dazai's cock all the time, drenched in pleasure and
Might /die/ without it, actually, wants nothing more than to be impaled on Dazai's cock all the time, drenched in pleasure and
sin and decadence.
Really, now that Chuuya's been fucked /once/, he could totally see himself getting addicted to it. Sign him up for one of those sex addicts anonymous meetings.
"Okay, okay," Dazai mutters, taking the hand off his erection and sliding it between them instead.
Really, now that Chuuya's been fucked /once/, he could totally see himself getting addicted to it. Sign him up for one of those sex addicts anonymous meetings.
"Okay, okay," Dazai mutters, taking the hand off his erection and sliding it between them instead.
Chuuya practically /purrs/ when he feels his belt buckle being undone, rocking back on the three fingers inside him with a sense of satisfying urgency.
How Dazai manages to do everything one-handed while still fingering him with near-expert accuracy until Chuuya feels strung
How Dazai manages to do everything one-handed while still fingering him with near-expert accuracy until Chuuya feels strung
thin and /needy/.
When the head of Dazai's cock slides slickly over his ass, he shudders, arching back into him. Yes, yes, he /wants it/, needs it--
Dazai switches hands, using his lube-covered hand to guide himself into position. His mostly-clean one comes up, fingers finding
When the head of Dazai's cock slides slickly over his ass, he shudders, arching back into him. Yes, yes, he /wants it/, needs it--
Dazai switches hands, using his lube-covered hand to guide himself into position. His mostly-clean one comes up, fingers finding
the line of his jaw.
His palm covers his mouth entirely, locking his jaw shut with strong fingers. His hand is big enough to cover nearly the entire lower half of his face, working well as a make-shift gag to keep him quiet as he begins the long, agonizingly slow push in.
His palm covers his mouth entirely, locking his jaw shut with strong fingers. His hand is big enough to cover nearly the entire lower half of his face, working well as a make-shift gag to keep him quiet as he begins the long, agonizingly slow push in.
Chuuya claws at his forearm, overstimulated tears welling up and spilling down his face because it's /so/ much. Big and /wide/, splitting him open in a way that borders between pain and pleasure.The anticipation is racking up, building like a storm in his chest because he /knows/
how good it feels to be /fucked/,hard and fast, and he wants it /so/ bad, and the edge of overworked pain just makes it easier to fall into the oncoming storm.
Dazai works himself inside with a series of short, shallow thrusting, pushing in centimeters at a time and then pulling
Dazai works himself inside with a series of short, shallow thrusting, pushing in centimeters at a time and then pulling
out before his body can protest too much. It gives him a /taste/ of what's to come, and lets the sore ache slowly fade into background noise.
Dazai hisses when his body clenches down on a particularly hard wave, fingers tightening on his face. "Take it," he mutters, low and
Dazai hisses when his body clenches down on a particularly hard wave, fingers tightening on his face. "Take it," he mutters, low and
forceful, seeping into his bloodstream like a drug, "You can do it, sweetheart. You did it before."
He /can/ do it, the ache is fading away with every thrust, and as /soon/ as Dazai finds his prostate, he's grinding against it in quick, focused rocks of his hips, driving him up
He /can/ do it, the ache is fading away with every thrust, and as /soon/ as Dazai finds his prostate, he's grinding against it in quick, focused rocks of his hips, driving him up
the wall so quickly it's almost shocking.
Something about the /frantic/ pace of this, of the desperation and the knowledge that there's other people just a few meters away, unknowingly going about their day as they fuck, dangerous and fast, only behind a slim door away--
It
Something about the /frantic/ pace of this, of the desperation and the knowledge that there's other people just a few meters away, unknowingly going about their day as they fuck, dangerous and fast, only behind a slim door away--
It
makes it /better/, makes it harder to resist as Dazai starts to set up a quick, shallow pace that focuses on his prostate. The door is lightly rattling from the force, and Chuuya's hands are clawing down it, desperate to hold on as he climbs higher and higher--
/Knock, knock!/
/Knock, knock!/
Dazai yanks him away from the door, pulling him back to lean against his chest instead of the door--
But the action makes his cock sink deeper inside him, glancing hard off his prostate and feeling /so/ deep he might as well be in his fucking /lungs/, and Chuuya can't help the
But the action makes his cock sink deeper inside him, glancing hard off his prostate and feeling /so/ deep he might as well be in his fucking /lungs/, and Chuuya can't help the
strangled whine that escapes him.
The hand on his face tightens, muffling his voice. Dazai uses his grip to tilt his head to the side, and hot breath washes over his ear and down his neck.
"Be quiet," Dazai tells him-- no, /orders/, the command in his voice all-encompassing
The hand on his face tightens, muffling his voice. Dazai uses his grip to tilt his head to the side, and hot breath washes over his ear and down his neck.
"Be quiet," Dazai tells him-- no, /orders/, the command in his voice all-encompassing
and impossible not to obey, infinitely exciting in how /easily/ he slips into dominance, like it's a second skin for him.
Teeth catch at his ear, scraping harshly, and he can feel the way his lips are curving into a sadistic smirk. "Unless you /want/ them to know you're being
Teeth catch at his ear, scraping harshly, and he can feel the way his lips are curving into a sadistic smirk. "Unless you /want/ them to know you're being
fucked like a needy slut in here?"
Fuck, /fuck/--
Before Chuuya can even shake his head in denial, Dazai is raising his voice and answering the person on the other side. "It's occupied."
The way he can sound so /unaffected/, even when he's still rocking into him and his cock
Fuck, /fuck/--
Before Chuuya can even shake his head in denial, Dazai is raising his voice and answering the person on the other side. "It's occupied."
The way he can sound so /unaffected/, even when he's still rocking into him and his cock
is /throbbing/ inside him is so unfair--
And also ridiculously attractive.
"Are you alright, sir? You've been in there quite a while."
Chuuya's eyes widen. He /recognizes/ that voice; it's one of the plane stewardesses, one that gave Dazai a flirty smile when they boarded the
And also ridiculously attractive.
"Are you alright, sir? You've been in there quite a while."
Chuuya's eyes widen. He /recognizes/ that voice; it's one of the plane stewardesses, one that gave Dazai a flirty smile when they boarded the
plane. And if she works for the airlines, that must mean--
She probably has a /key/ to unlock the bathroom. Oh god.
She could do it, open the door /right/ now and reveal them both. Dazai is hidden behind him, but /Chuuya/ is perfectly exposed, his pants trapped around his
She probably has a /key/ to unlock the bathroom. Oh god.
She could do it, open the door /right/ now and reveal them both. Dazai is hidden behind him, but /Chuuya/ is perfectly exposed, his pants trapped around his
thighs and his dick out.
(If he was thinking logically, he would realize that her opening the door with someone already admitting to being in here would cause more problems than it's worth but--
He's /not/ thinking logically. He's spinning between panic that they're about to
(If he was thinking logically, he would realize that her opening the door with someone already admitting to being in here would cause more problems than it's worth but--
He's /not/ thinking logically. He's spinning between panic that they're about to
be caught and he's about to get a label on his permanent record as a /sex offender/--
And /shame/,because Dazai isn't stopping and it feels /so/ fucking good, and he's /still/ climbing to the peak of ecstasy with an innocent person literally a meter away.
Fuck, fuck, /fuck/--.)
And /shame/,because Dazai isn't stopping and it feels /so/ fucking good, and he's /still/ climbing to the peak of ecstasy with an innocent person literally a meter away.
Fuck, fuck, /fuck/--.)
"Oh, I'm perfect," Dazai sighs, sounding perfectly composed even as he's nudging Chuuya into propping up his foot against the sink to give him a better angle. "Flights are just so /hard/ for me, you know?" Literally, he's /rock fucking hard/ inside him-- "I just get so nervous. I
get nauseous."
There's a long silence on the other side of the door, one that Dazai takes advantage of by widening his stance so he can fuck /deeper/ inside him. Chuuya is franctically trying to control his breathing so he doesn't give them away, but it's so /hard/ when his
There's a long silence on the other side of the door, one that Dazai takes advantage of by widening his stance so he can fuck /deeper/ inside him. Chuuya is franctically trying to control his breathing so he doesn't give them away, but it's so /hard/ when his
orgasm is creeping up on him, coiling tightly in his stomach.
This time, when she speaks, there's a /hint/ of cajoling underneath her professional tone. "Can I bring you anything to help? We have ginger ale for your stomach."
No, no, /please/ no--
"No, that's okay," Dazai says
This time, when she speaks, there's a /hint/ of cajoling underneath her professional tone. "Can I bring you anything to help? We have ginger ale for your stomach."
No, no, /please/ no--
"No, that's okay," Dazai says
leaning down until he's speaking next to his ear again. His next words are spoken loudly enough for the stewardess to hear, but they're /clearly/ meant for him:
"I have everything I need right here."
Squeezing his eyes shut, he starts rocking back against him, bettering the
"I have everything I need right here."
Squeezing his eyes shut, he starts rocking back against him, bettering the
angle until each thrust feels like it breathes fire into him.
He's close. Based on the way Dazai is twitching inside him, and his rhythm is starting to fall apart, he probably is too.
"Alright. If you change your mind, let me know. We'll start descending soon, so you'll get
He's close. Based on the way Dazai is twitching inside him, and his rhythm is starting to fall apart, he probably is too.
"Alright. If you change your mind, let me know. We'll start descending soon, so you'll get
some relief soon."
Dazai laughs, low and sweet and rumbling. "Yeah, I will."
The innuendo makes Chuuya's face burn,but he's /reaching/ for the edge, so close he can almost taste it.
Outside, there's the slight rustle and the quiet click of the stewardess moving away. Hopefully
Dazai laughs, low and sweet and rumbling. "Yeah, I will."
The innuendo makes Chuuya's face burn,but he's /reaching/ for the edge, so close he can almost taste it.
Outside, there's the slight rustle and the quiet click of the stewardess moving away. Hopefully
she's going away, to the back of the plane and out of hearing range.
As soon as she seems to be out of range, Dazai is picking up speed, essentially bouncing him on his cock using the strength of his arms alone. Chuuya didn't think being manhandled was a turn on of his, but
As soon as she seems to be out of range, Dazai is picking up speed, essentially bouncing him on his cock using the strength of his arms alone. Chuuya didn't think being manhandled was a turn on of his, but
the feeling of being moved up and down with one arm as he slams up into him is /hot/.
Or maybe that's just because he's getting dizzy with the lack of air. With the way Dazai is covering his mouth, it makes it hard to draw in enough air through his nose, and he's starting to
Or maybe that's just because he's getting dizzy with the lack of air. With the way Dazai is covering his mouth, it makes it hard to draw in enough air through his nose, and he's starting to
feel lightheaded. Not in a way that makes him feel like he needs to tell Dazai to /stop/ but--
One that makes his orgasm approach in leaps and bounds, overwhelming him with the growing tension.
"You should hurry up," Dazai tells him, placing a gentle kiss onto his cheek in
One that makes his orgasm approach in leaps and bounds, overwhelming him with the growing tension.
"You should hurry up," Dazai tells him, placing a gentle kiss onto his cheek in
aching opposition to the way his hips are moving in short, hard bursts, "You're running out of time, and if you don't come before /I/ do-- you won't come at all."
His responding keen is muffled, and he's /trying/ to be pliant and limp for him, but his foot keeps kicking out,
His responding keen is muffled, and he's /trying/ to be pliant and limp for him, but his foot keeps kicking out,
trying in vain to brace himself as the tension nears the breaking point.
(It's an empty threat, Dazai wouldn't leave him hanging after a scene like this, but the way he gets so /desperate/, wiggling harder in his arms and arching himself to the best angle for the most pleasure--
(It's an empty threat, Dazai wouldn't leave him hanging after a scene like this, but the way he gets so /desperate/, wiggling harder in his arms and arching himself to the best angle for the most pleasure--
It's /cute/.
Sometimes the best rules are imaginary ones.)
The plane jolts a little, dropping down a few feet more before levelling out. The added pressure makes Chuuya sink /that/ much farther onto Dazai's cock, and the swooping feeling in his stomach combined with the way his
Sometimes the best rules are imaginary ones.)
The plane jolts a little, dropping down a few feet more before levelling out. The added pressure makes Chuuya sink /that/ much farther onto Dazai's cock, and the swooping feeling in his stomach combined with the way his
neglected erection bobs in the air, brushing against his shirt--
It's enough.
With a muffled keen, he cums in short,messy spurts. It's quick and ruthless, ravaging him in powerful waves that leave him hanging limp in Dazai's arms as he tries to breathe through it.
It's not as
It's enough.
With a muffled keen, he cums in short,messy spurts. It's quick and ruthless, ravaging him in powerful waves that leave him hanging limp in Dazai's arms as he tries to breathe through it.
It's not as
good as the orgasm last night, /but/ the dirtiness of it all, the way that they're committing a /crime/ right now, makes it almost as satisfying.
"Good boy," Dazai purrs against him, biting his shoulder again. He hasn't stopped moving, and every savage thrust he gives him makes
"Good boy," Dazai purrs against him, biting his shoulder again. He hasn't stopped moving, and every savage thrust he gives him makes
pricks of overstimulation spear through him near-painfully.
It's good, it's good, /why/ is he so fucking good, he's not going to /survive/--
By the time Dazai is muffling his own groan into his neck, Chuuya feels mindless. Part of him is hanging onto his logic and composure
It's good, it's good, /why/ is he so fucking good, he's not going to /survive/--
By the time Dazai is muffling his own groan into his neck, Chuuya feels mindless. Part of him is hanging onto his logic and composure
as tightly as possible, because he knows that they're still in /public/ and they still need to be careful--
But another, much more tempting part of him is reveling in the feeling of Dazai jerking against him and the spill of warmth inside him. He's pleasantly limp from his
But another, much more tempting part of him is reveling in the feeling of Dazai jerking against him and the spill of warmth inside him. He's pleasantly limp from his
orgasm, his muscles tingling and overworked--
Oh fuck, he's about to be /so/ sore, holy shit.
...Worth it, though.
The way Dazai reaches over and rips off a dozen sheets of toilet paper to catch the spill of cum when he pulls out isn't /sexy/, but it is caring. He /always/
Oh fuck, he's about to be /so/ sore, holy shit.
...Worth it, though.
The way Dazai reaches over and rips off a dozen sheets of toilet paper to catch the spill of cum when he pulls out isn't /sexy/, but it is caring. He /always/
takes care of him.
Clean-up is quick and half-assed, considering where they are, but they manage to get most of the evidence wiped away. Their pants get righted, and their hands washed, and the stripes of cum over the sink (Chuuya's doing) get wiped up quickly.
All in all, the
Clean-up is quick and half-assed, considering where they are, but they manage to get most of the evidence wiped away. Their pants get righted, and their hands washed, and the stripes of cum over the sink (Chuuya's doing) get wiped up quickly.
All in all, the
entire encounter took /maybe/ twenty minutes. Their fastest sex yet.
With a hand on the nape of his neck, Dazai pulls him in for a kiss on his forehead. "Welcome to the mile high club," he murmurs, slightly smug but Chuuya can't complain too much, sated and sore as he is.
---+
With a hand on the nape of his neck, Dazai pulls him in for a kiss on his forehead. "Welcome to the mile high club," he murmurs, slightly smug but Chuuya can't complain too much, sated and sore as he is.
---+
***** THE NEXT SCENE MIGHT BE DIFFICULT FOR ANIMAL LOVERS TO HANDLE *****
No abuse happens, and all animals are okay, but it will be rather upsetting. I will tag the end with ** and add a summary. Feel free to skip if necessary. Be safe 💖💖 *****
No abuse happens, and all animals are okay, but it will be rather upsetting. I will tag the end with ** and add a summary. Feel free to skip if necessary. Be safe 💖💖 *****
In hindsight, Dazai should've realized that his streak of good things happening to him would've run dry eventually.
He knew he was running away. He knew the vacation in Osaka, on his part, was little more than avoiding his responsibilities. He knew that if he dropped everything
He knew he was running away. He knew the vacation in Osaka, on his part, was little more than avoiding his responsibilities. He knew that if he dropped everything
for a week, that there would be consequences.
The call with Fyodor. Sasaki and Shuuji in his home. The botched meeting with Kouyou, which he regrets now that he isn't angry and petty. Meetings with Rokuzou.
He knew he was coming back to a /mess/, which is probably why he hid so
The call with Fyodor. Sasaki and Shuuji in his home. The botched meeting with Kouyou, which he regrets now that he isn't angry and petty. Meetings with Rokuzou.
He knew he was coming back to a /mess/, which is probably why he hid so
effectively beneath the covers in Osaka. He just wanted--
A week. A week of peace, and calm,and /savoring/ his little chibi before he had to go back to being crushed under the strain of his work.
And he /was/ expecting quite a few things when he got home--
But not this.
A week. A week of peace, and calm,and /savoring/ his little chibi before he had to go back to being crushed under the strain of his work.
And he /was/ expecting quite a few things when he got home--
But not this.
When he finally gets home-- over an hour since they landed, because he had to take Chuuya back to the dorms and watching him limp away with all the pride and dignity in his tiny body was too funny /not/ to watch-- there's two vehicles outside his house.
TOKYO ANIMAL CONTROL.
TOKYO ANIMAL CONTROL.
What the /fuck/?
And if that had been it, that would've been /fine/. He's a professional, he knows how to talk to government employees, he knows how to diffuse a situation.
But when he slides into his parking spot and hops out before the car has even stopped running, he finds--
And if that had been it, that would've been /fine/. He's a professional, he knows how to talk to government employees, he knows how to diffuse a situation.
But when he slides into his parking spot and hops out before the car has even stopped running, he finds--
/Two/ men in government uniforms, holding a strong pole between them, pulling on it with all their strength as they--
/Drag/ Yoko out of the house by her fucking /neck/, the self-tightening noose at the end of the pole wrapped around her throat like a choke collar.
/Drag/ Yoko out of the house by her fucking /neck/, the self-tightening noose at the end of the pole wrapped around her throat like a choke collar.
For a second, there's just shock and a disturbing sense of pride-- /that's/ my girl, needs two grown men to take her down-- and then that all clears away as soon as he hears her.
She's fighting it, of course she is, back legs braced against the concrete steps as she whips her
She's fighting it, of course she is, back legs braced against the concrete steps as she whips her
head back and forth as she tries in vain to get the noose off. Every step she's dragged forward is hard-fought, resisted with all her strength.
She's snarling too, snapping, sounds that /sound/ scary, and are probably just more reason for animal control to yank on her--
But
She's snarling too, snapping, sounds that /sound/ scary, and are probably just more reason for animal control to yank on her--
But
Dazai can hear the fear and confusion behind it, because she's /never/ been treated this way. She's never been so much as pulled around on a /leash/, so being dragged out of her own home by strangers with a painful, merciless collar--
God, she must be /terrified/.
Dazai rounds
God, she must be /terrified/.
Dazai rounds
the corner of his car with a enraged snarl. How /dare/ they treat his dog like that? Dragging her out of her /own/ home like she's some rabid mutt?
"What the /hell/ is going on here?" He snaps and--
Poor Yoko, as soon as she hears his voice, she's letting out a terrified yelp
"What the /hell/ is going on here?" He snaps and--
Poor Yoko, as soon as she hears his voice, she's letting out a terrified yelp
and bolting in his direction, tail tucked between her legs. Luckily, there's still enough slack that she can dive between his legs and huddle there, making soft whimpering noises as she searches for protection underneath him.
His heart breaks for her.
But none of that guilt and
His heart breaks for her.
But none of that guilt and
/regret/-- he should've been here, he /should've been here/-- come through in his voice when he turns his head to pin the two men with a fierce glare.
"Pull on my dog again," he warns them, flashing his teeth in a threatening smile, "and I'm going to get /angry/."
He doesn't
"Pull on my dog again," he warns them, flashing his teeth in a threatening smile, "and I'm going to get /angry/."
He doesn't
threaten him. He's not stupid enough for that, even as angry as he is right now.
"That's your dog?" One of them asks, lowering the dog pole. He seems to be the leader of the two, and he's the bigger one. The nametag on his uniform says Sato.
"Yes, she's /my/ dog. I /just/ got
"That's your dog?" One of them asks, lowering the dog pole. He seems to be the leader of the two, and he's the bigger one. The nametag on his uniform says Sato.
"Yes, she's /my/ dog. I /just/ got
back from vacation an hour ago. Why are you here?" Dazai already has a sinking, curdling feeling of /who/ called them and /why/, but he wants to hear it before he makes any rash decisions."
"Sorry sir, we didn't know who or if the dog belonged to anyone--"
Dazai scowls, because
"Sorry sir, we didn't know who or if the dog belonged to anyone--"
Dazai scowls, because
she's shiny, healthy and has a /collar/ on,of /course/ she belongs to someone.
"--we just got a call about an aggressive dog in the house. She bit the lady who lives here,and the dog needed to be removed so she could go to the hospital for stitches."
The /lady who lives here/?
"--we just got a call about an aggressive dog in the house. She bit the lady who lives here,and the dog needed to be removed so she could go to the hospital for stitches."
The /lady who lives here/?
Dazai turns his head, seething, and /there/ she is.
Sasaki, standing in the doorway with makeup running down her face with tears. It looks like she actually /was/ bitten because there's a kitchen towel wrapped around her arm with red spots drenched in the fabric.
/Good dog/,
Sasaki, standing in the doorway with makeup running down her face with tears. It looks like she actually /was/ bitten because there's a kitchen towel wrapped around her arm with red spots drenched in the fabric.
/Good dog/,
Dazai thinks to himself.
"She /bit/ me!" Sasaki wails, choking back a pained sob. "She bit me and she wouldn't let /go/ and she wouldn't /leave/ so I had to call! I have to go to the hospital, oh god, it's going to /scar/--"
She breaks down again, in such loud, agonized cries
"She /bit/ me!" Sasaki wails, choking back a pained sob. "She bit me and she wouldn't let /go/ and she wouldn't /leave/ so I had to call! I have to go to the hospital, oh god, it's going to /scar/--"
She breaks down again, in such loud, agonized cries
that even Dazai would feel sympathy for her--
If his dog weren't trembling and still crying softly between his legs.
Clenching his jaw, he speaks through his teeth to Sato and his partner. "Did /that lady/ tell you that she doesn't actually /live here/? This is /my/ house, and
If his dog weren't trembling and still crying softly between his legs.
Clenching his jaw, he speaks through his teeth to Sato and his partner. "Did /that lady/ tell you that she doesn't actually /live here/? This is /my/ house, and
/my/ dog, and she's trespassing? Yoko is a guard dog, and that /lady/ was uninvited in my home. She was doing her /job/."
Based on the awkward shuffling and the silent stares at each other, Sato and his partner /didn't/ know that. Of course they didn't, because /then/ they might
Based on the awkward shuffling and the silent stares at each other, Sato and his partner /didn't/ know that. Of course they didn't, because /then/ they might
not have come as quickly. Or might've laughed her off and told her that if she didn't want to be bitten, she shouldn't be trespassing. Or maybe just called the /police/-- which would've been a mess in itself for Dazai, but he would've preferred /that/.
"She told us she was
"She told us she was
married to the guy who lives here," Sato mumbles, just loud enough for Dazai to hear. "Is that true?"
Sasaki said /what/ now? They haven't spoken in any regularity for over /five/ years, she comes into his house uninvited, gets his dog /arrested/ and claims to be his /wife/?
Sasaki said /what/ now? They haven't spoken in any regularity for over /five/ years, she comes into his house uninvited, gets his dog /arrested/ and claims to be his /wife/?
Admittedly, he hasn't been as firm with Sasaki as he could've been. Should've been, apparently. He let them drift apart and didn't exactly /deny/ her advances.
Didn't give into them either, but obviously he should've told her that there was no way in /hell/ they were getting
Didn't give into them either, but obviously he should've told her that there was no way in /hell/ they were getting
back together. He was willing to /work/ with her because she's the mother of his child,and he was willing to be civil and friendly with her--
But this is /out of line/.
"I haven't spoken to her in /five/ years," he hisses, uncaring that it's a /bit/ of a lie, "and she was /not/
But this is /out of line/.
"I haven't spoken to her in /five/ years," he hisses, uncaring that it's a /bit/ of a lie, "and she was /not/
invited into my home. Yoko was just doing was she was /trained/ to do."
Awkward, tense silence falls between the group. Sasaki is trying to muffle her tears, but she's still hanging around in the doorway waiting to see what happens.
Sato's partner-- Yamamoto, his name tag
Awkward, tense silence falls between the group. Sasaki is trying to muffle her tears, but she's still hanging around in the doorway waiting to see what happens.
Sato's partner-- Yamamoto, his name tag
reads-- shifts awkwardly in place. "Look," he starts, clearly trying to sound neutral, "there's obviously /other/ things happening in this situation that we were not aware of. We'd be happy to call the police for you, if that's what you'd like-- but the situation between you and
Sasaki is not our jurisdiction. We're here for the dog, because there's a process for aggressive animals, even if there was a reason behind the aggression."
It has not escaped Dazai's notice that neither of the animal control workers have said Yoko's name /once/, like refusing
It has not escaped Dazai's notice that neither of the animal control workers have said Yoko's name /once/, like refusing
to acknowledge that she's a well-trained and well-loved dog might make it easier on them to /drag/ her into the street.
"We do, unfortunately, still have to impound her. It's nothing personal, and I'm sure she's a good dog, but it is the policy with these things."
Dazai closes
"We do, unfortunately, still have to impound her. It's nothing personal, and I'm sure she's a good dog, but it is the policy with these things."
Dazai closes
his eyes. They're going to take her, and there's nothing he can do. He can't save her from this.
"What are you going to do with her?" He asks,hoping that knowing what's going to happen might make it easier to let her go.
It's Sato who speaks up this time. The dog-pole is still
"What are you going to do with her?" He asks,hoping that knowing what's going to happen might make it easier to let her go.
It's Sato who speaks up this time. The dog-pole is still
hanging loosely from his fingers, and Dazai wants to break it over his /head/. "If this is her first offense, then we'll just hold her for 24 hours and take down all her information. Make sure she has her shots, and there's nothing wrong with her that a vet or a hospital would
need to know about."
That doesn't sound too bad--
"The first offense is easy. It's the third one you have to worry about."
Dazai almost doesn't want to know what /that/ means, but he /has/ to. "What happens at three?"
"... At three counts of aggression, animals are put down."
That doesn't sound too bad--
"The first offense is easy. It's the third one you have to worry about."
Dazai almost doesn't want to know what /that/ means, but he /has/ to. "What happens at three?"
"... At three counts of aggression, animals are put down."
Well. That settles the matter, doesn't it? He's never letting Sasaki near his dogs ever again.
He clears his throat, fighting to keep his voice even. "And I can pick her up tomorrow afternoon, at this time?"
"Yeah, as long as nothing else changes between now and then."
Yoko
He clears his throat, fighting to keep his voice even. "And I can pick her up tomorrow afternoon, at this time?"
"Yeah, as long as nothing else changes between now and then."
Yoko
is completely updated on her shots, and she's a /good/ dog, so nothing should happen but--
God, Dazai is /so/ scared for her. He doesn't want to let her go or give her up, or make her spend a day in a tiny, cold cage feeling lost and confused.
But he has to. If he resists,
God, Dazai is /so/ scared for her. He doesn't want to let her go or give her up, or make her spend a day in a tiny, cold cage feeling lost and confused.
But he has to. If he resists,
the police will be called, and he'll probably end up being arrested. Which is not /too/ terrible, considering he's buried his past as deeply as it can go and he has favors owed to him from people in powerful places but--
Yoko is not his /only/ dog. And if he gets arrested, he'll
Yoko is not his /only/ dog. And if he gets arrested, he'll
be leaving Kozo alone with Sasaki and Shuuji. As much as it /hurts/--
He can't do that to Kozo either.
Taking a small step back, he crouches down in front of Yoko. She's immediately pushing into his arms, frantically licking at his face in tiny, wet apologies. Like she did
He can't do that to Kozo either.
Taking a small step back, he crouches down in front of Yoko. She's immediately pushing into his arms, frantically licking at his face in tiny, wet apologies. Like she did
something wrong and she's trying to apologize so she doesn't get in trouble.
Normally Dazai doesn't let the dogs lick him much, and especially not his face, but this time he cups her face with his hands and lets her comfort herself. He rubs at her ears, below her jaw where she
Normally Dazai doesn't let the dogs lick him much, and especially not his face, but this time he cups her face with his hands and lets her comfort herself. He rubs at her ears, below her jaw where she
likes it best.
"Good girl," he tells her lowly, feeling his heart sink a little further when her tail beats against the ground hesitantly. "You're such a good girl."
He slides one hand down, dipping his fingers underneath the noose-leash and loosening it enough that he can
"Good girl," he tells her lowly, feeling his heart sink a little further when her tail beats against the ground hesitantly. "You're such a good girl."
He slides one hand down, dipping his fingers underneath the noose-leash and loosening it enough that he can
slip it over her head. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sato frown and Yamomoto take a step forward, but he holds a hand up to stop them.
"You have to go with them, pretty girl," he tells her, wishing she could /understand/ him, so the confused, pleading look in her eyes
"You have to go with them, pretty girl," he tells her, wishing she could /understand/ him, so the confused, pleading look in her eyes
would go away. So that she would /know/, even if it's scary and confusing right now, it's not /forever/. He'll come back for her, he promises.
"I know you don't want to, but you have to so just-- be a good girl, okay? I'll see you tomorrow, I /promise/."
Gathering her up in his
"I know you don't want to, but you have to so just-- be a good girl, okay? I'll see you tomorrow, I /promise/."
Gathering her up in his
arms to pick her up feels like betrayal. Feels like he's sending her away, even if he doesn't have a choice.
She doesn't understand that. All /she/ knows is that two scary men dragged her out of her home, and now her dad, the one person she trusts above all else, the one who is
She doesn't understand that. All /she/ knows is that two scary men dragged her out of her home, and now her dad, the one person she trusts above all else, the one who is
supposed to /protect/ her and keep her safe--
Is pushing her gently into a cage on the side of the animal control vehicle.
And god, she's so trusting that she doesn't even fight him as he places her inside, and that just makes his heart break more. She trusts him /so/ much, and
Is pushing her gently into a cage on the side of the animal control vehicle.
And god, she's so trusting that she doesn't even fight him as he places her inside, and that just makes his heart break more. She trusts him /so/ much, and
he feels like he's /betraying/ her.
When he shuts the cage door on her, her ears drop and she looks so /sad/ that tears are automatically springing up in his eyes. His poor baby girl.
"Tomorrow," he promises again, sticking his fingers through the grate to give her nose one
When he shuts the cage door on her, her ears drop and she looks so /sad/ that tears are automatically springing up in his eyes. His poor baby girl.
"Tomorrow," he promises again, sticking his fingers through the grate to give her nose one
last stroke before he steps away completely.
He's not normally an angry person, but he has to shove his fists into his pockets to let animal control drive away with his dog without making a scene.
He watches as long as he can, standing in the middle of the road, until the van
He's not normally an angry person, but he has to shove his fists into his pockets to let animal control drive away with his dog without making a scene.
He watches as long as he can, standing in the middle of the road, until the van
disappears from sight.
And he's left alone with Sasaki--who is /still/ crying to herself on the steps, not that Dazai cares right now-- Shuuji, and Kozo--
Where is Kozo? He hasn't seem him at /all/, and he's incredibly protective over Yoko so--
What did Sasaki do to him?
And he's left alone with Sasaki--who is /still/ crying to herself on the steps, not that Dazai cares right now-- Shuuji, and Kozo--
Where is Kozo? He hasn't seem him at /all/, and he's incredibly protective over Yoko so--
What did Sasaki do to him?
***** TAG WARNINGS OVER.
Summary: Yoko bit Sasaki, so she called animal control on her. Yoko was taken out of the house, and has been impounded in animal control for 24 hours.
*****
Summary: Yoko bit Sasaki, so she called animal control on her. Yoko was taken out of the house, and has been impounded in animal control for 24 hours.
*****
His first words to Sasaki aren't 'why' or 'what were you thinking' or 'stop crying, she wouldn't have bitten you without a /reason/', it's--
"Where is my dog?"
Sniffing, Sasaki looks up at him. She looks pitiful, drawn with pain and makeup running down her face in wet trails,
"Where is my dog?"
Sniffing, Sasaki looks up at him. She looks pitiful, drawn with pain and makeup running down her face in wet trails,
but Dazai cannot find an ounce of sympathy for her right now. Not when the image of Yoko, looking heartbroken behind a locked cage, is flashing behind his eyelids.
Sasaki looks confused and /hurt/, almost, like she's offended that he hasn't asked if she's okay yet.
"Where. Is.
Sasaki looks confused and /hurt/, almost, like she's offended that he hasn't asked if she's okay yet.
"Where. Is.
My. Dog." he asks again, speaking through his /teeth/. He doesn't want to talk to her, he doesn't want to /see/ her, he just wants to make sure his other dog is okay.
If he can protect /one/ of his animals, maybe this feeling of guilt and anger boiling in his stomach will be
If he can protect /one/ of his animals, maybe this feeling of guilt and anger boiling in his stomach will be
easier to handle. Maybe he'll stop feeling like a terrible dog owner, for just a second.
"In it's kennel," Sasaki sniffs, propping her arm up on her knees so she can adjust the towel wrapped around her wrist.
Normally the 'it' would piss him off, but he doesn't /care/. He's
"In it's kennel," Sasaki sniffs, propping her arm up on her knees so she can adjust the towel wrapped around her wrist.
Normally the 'it' would piss him off, but he doesn't /care/. He's
bounding up the stairs in a single step, brushing past her without caring if he jostles her, and heading /straight/ for the room with the dogs kennel in it.
The room, when he throws open the door, reeks of dog piss. There's a discarded water bowl spilled on the floor, and their
The room, when he throws open the door, reeks of dog piss. There's a discarded water bowl spilled on the floor, and their
food bowls are nowhere to be seen.
Kozo, when he sees him, hides his face under his blanket in embarrassment. It /smells/ like they've been locked in here for maybe the /whole fucking time/, and there's a wet spot near the back of his kennel.
The dogs know that they're supposed
Kozo, when he sees him, hides his face under his blanket in embarrassment. It /smells/ like they've been locked in here for maybe the /whole fucking time/, and there's a wet spot near the back of his kennel.
The dogs know that they're supposed
to keep their kennels clean, and they'll hold in their urges for /hours/ if necessary, so for Kozo to pee in his own kennel--
Dazai's hands are shaking when he unlocks the kennel. "You're okay," he tells Kozo, trying to keep the /wrath/ out of his voice, "good boy. You're not in
Dazai's hands are shaking when he unlocks the kennel. "You're okay," he tells Kozo, trying to keep the /wrath/ out of his voice, "good boy. You're not in
in trouble. Go outside."
As soon as the door opens,Kozo is bolting outside,tail between his legs. Dazai follows him to the back door, opening it for him so he can go to the bathroom.
Poor thing barely makes it off the porch before he's crouching down.
It takes Dazai /several/
As soon as the door opens,Kozo is bolting outside,tail between his legs. Dazai follows him to the back door, opening it for him so he can go to the bathroom.
Poor thing barely makes it off the porch before he's crouching down.
It takes Dazai /several/
minutes to calm himself down so he doesn't start smashing the potted plants on the porch. He wouldn't even /mind/, really, he can always buy new plants, but Kozo is already nervous about being in trouble and he doesn't want to make it worse.
He makes a list of the immediate
He makes a list of the immediate
things he needs to do.
1. Feed Kozo. He's sure he hasn't eaten, and he's too angry to ask. He'd rather him eat twice than not at all.
2: Give water to Kozo.
3. Kick Sasaki the /fuck/ out of his house before he breaks his years old rule and makes her disappear.
1. Feed Kozo. He's sure he hasn't eaten, and he's too angry to ask. He'd rather him eat twice than not at all.
2: Give water to Kozo.
3. Kick Sasaki the /fuck/ out of his house before he breaks his years old rule and makes her disappear.
He heads inside, and if he adds twice as much of Kozo's favorite raw meat to his meal, then he deserves it. Seeing Yoko's bowl and not making /two/ bowls is physically painful.
His heart hurts. They better feed her.
Sasaki comes wandering in as he's mixing the eggs into the
His heart hurts. They better feed her.
Sasaki comes wandering in as he's mixing the eggs into the
bowl, which makes his jaw clench. He ignores her pointedly, making sure Kozo's food is made properly.
She unwraps the towel from around her arm, and--
/Needing stitches/ is a /bit/ of an exaggeration. He can see the cut where Yoko's teeth dug into her arm, and there is a decent
She unwraps the towel from around her arm, and--
/Needing stitches/ is a /bit/ of an exaggeration. He can see the cut where Yoko's teeth dug into her arm, and there is a decent
slice, but skin glue would be /just/ fine to close it up. It's much better than he expected,considering that Yoko is trained to take down men Dazai's size and /keep/ them down by tearing up their arm.
"I don't understand why you're so upset," Sasaki says, voice thick with tears,
"I don't understand why you're so upset," Sasaki says, voice thick with tears,
"I /told/ you they were aggressive. I didn't even /do/ anything and she nearly took a chunk out of my arm!"
It's a bad idea for her to approach him when he's like this. One of the /first/ and longest-lasting lessons of the Mafia is how to make a weapon out of anything.
Even a
It's a bad idea for her to approach him when he's like this. One of the /first/ and longest-lasting lessons of the Mafia is how to make a weapon out of anything.
Even a
wooden spatula he uses to stir dog food with.
"If you had just /listened/ to me--."
His fist slams into the counter without his permission, loud and sudden. It cuts her off mid-sentence, startles her and makes her blink at him in shock.
"How long were they in their kennels?"
"If you had just /listened/ to me--."
His fist slams into the counter without his permission, loud and sudden. It cuts her off mid-sentence, startles her and makes her blink at him in shock.
"How long were they in their kennels?"
Sasaki hesitates, long enough that Dazai's lips are peeling away from his teeth in an enraged snarl.
"Answer me."
He's not looking at her directly-- can't, he's on the /edge/ of his control, about to lose it-- but he sees the way she ducks her head in shame.
"Since yesterday."
"Answer me."
He's not looking at her directly-- can't, he's on the /edge/ of his control, about to lose it-- but he sees the way she ducks her head in shame.
"Since yesterday."
All the utensils and knick-knacks on the island go clattering to the floor with one sharp, furious sweep of his arm. The sound makes her jump.
Good. She should be scared of him. Dazai has been /nothing/ but nice and understanding with her, ever since he was a kid. Offered to
Good. She should be scared of him. Dazai has been /nothing/ but nice and understanding with her, ever since he was a kid. Offered to
help raise Shuuji, even though he never wanted children to begin with, and he was terrified of the prospect.
Gave her a /big/ allowance to work with every month, because if he wasn't going to be there physically, then the least he could do was support her.
Let her put a wedge
Gave her a /big/ allowance to work with every month, because if he wasn't going to be there physically, then the least he could do was support her.
Let her put a wedge
between him and his son, even when he started to express interest in getting to know him, because agreeing was better than arguing.
Let her coax him back into her bed, again and again, whenever she got bored of whatever man she was playing with and wanted attention.
Let her
Let her coax him back into her bed, again and again, whenever she got bored of whatever man she was playing with and wanted attention.
Let her
use his money and connections to secure Shuuji a spot in Keio University, even though he didn't earn one.
Admittedly, it's not like Dazai /tried/ very hard to break the connection between them, but /fuck/. He shouldn't have to choose between being lonely, or having his dogs and
Admittedly, it's not like Dazai /tried/ very hard to break the connection between them, but /fuck/. He shouldn't have to choose between being lonely, or having his dogs and
his self-respect /abused/.
And there is /one/ thing about Sasaki--
She has /yet/ to see him angry. Irritated, yes, but truly angry? When the hard-won self-control slips into the background,and the demon prodigy comes out to play?
No, she hasn't seen that. Because if she /had/
And there is /one/ thing about Sasaki--
She has /yet/ to see him angry. Irritated, yes, but truly angry? When the hard-won self-control slips into the background,and the demon prodigy comes out to play?
No, she hasn't seen that. Because if she /had/
she would be afraid right now.
He sets down the spatula gently, rolling his shoulders. It's been so /long/, but it feels so easy, slipping into the mindset he needs for this.
Sasaki watches him warily as he stalks around the island towards her, but she doesn't move away.
He sets down the spatula gently, rolling his shoulders. It's been so /long/, but it feels so easy, slipping into the mindset he needs for this.
Sasaki watches him warily as he stalks around the island towards her, but she doesn't move away.
He pins her against the counter with one arm on either side of her, locking her place as he looms over her, smiling pleasantly. "And what did you do," he murmurs quietly, smile widening when he sees the way her eyes dilate in response, "to get yourself bitten?"
She gulps, and
She gulps, and
the feeling of her uninjured hand clinging onto his shirt is /unwelcome/, especially after having Chuuya all over him not even two full hours ago--
But he endures.
"I reached into her kennel to give her water, and she bit me." Her voice is breathy, and not in the way it should
But he endures.
"I reached into her kennel to give her water, and she bit me." Her voice is breathy, and not in the way it should
be.
Does he believe her? Doesn't matter, he supposes, because something like that /would/ get her bitten, but either way--
The result is the same.
He leans down, until his breath is washing over her ear. She shivers against him, leaning up.
"You should know better than to
Does he believe her? Doesn't matter, he supposes, because something like that /would/ get her bitten, but either way--
The result is the same.
He leans down, until his breath is washing over her ear. She shivers against him, leaning up.
"You should know better than to
enter the home of something that /bites/." His teeth come together with a /click/ near her ear.
With the hand on his shirt, she tries to drag him closer. It's too easy to resist her.
"Why are you here?" He asks instead, because he's curious. Nothing much has changed since five
With the hand on his shirt, she tries to drag him closer. It's too easy to resist her.
"Why are you here?" He asks instead, because he's curious. Nothing much has changed since five
years ago, except for the fact that Shuuji has left /her/ home--
"I was lonely," she admits, "and I missed you. I missed Shuuji, I missed being a /parent/."
And something about that, the note of deep-set longing, something that's too /deep/ for missing her kid makes him pause.
"I was lonely," she admits, "and I missed you. I missed Shuuji, I missed being a /parent/."
And something about that, the note of deep-set longing, something that's too /deep/ for missing her kid makes him pause.
The though nearly makes him laugh in her face, because it's just so /absurd/ but--
"Don't tell me you wanted me to give you /another/ kid?"
Her silence, awkward and ashamed, is answer enough.
It takes /everything/ in him not to burst out laughing because--
Who /does/ that?
"Don't tell me you wanted me to give you /another/ kid?"
Her silence, awkward and ashamed, is answer enough.
It takes /everything/ in him not to burst out laughing because--
Who /does/ that?
In what self-centered, delusional world does wanting another child make the manipulation, the disrespect and the blatant crossing of boundaries /okay/? Did she really think that would /work/?
Well--
Come to think of it, if he /hadn't/ had met his fiery little redhead, it might
Well--
Come to think of it, if he /hadn't/ had met his fiery little redhead, it might
have just worked, actually. He was lonely enough back then that he might've just /fallen/ for the excuse, might've wound up with her in his bed again just to get rid of the crushing sense of isolation. Just to feel another warm, living body next to him, and damn the consequences.
He hadn't realized how bad it had gotten, but now that he knows what it's like to be bathed in Chuuya's warmth, his acceptance and just how /easy/ it is to be around him.
But now, with dark brown eyes, he's starting to realize...
He /much/ prefers blue.
With a sigh, he reaches
But now, with dark brown eyes, he's starting to realize...
He /much/ prefers blue.
With a sigh, he reaches
up and grips her wrist. He's not /gentle/, but he's not cruel either as he pries her hand off him and pins her arm to her side. "I'm going to make a prediction, and I want you to tell me if it's true."
She nods, a little hesitantly. Seems like she's finally starting to grasp the
She nods, a little hesitantly. Seems like she's finally starting to grasp the
situation she's in.
"You slept in my bed, didn't you?"
She looks away, swallowing hard as she nods slightly. He figured, but somehow the confirmation makes him feel...
Violated, in a way. Like his sacred, most private places have been torn open and scoured with dirty hands.
"You slept in my bed, didn't you?"
She looks away, swallowing hard as she nods slightly. He figured, but somehow the confirmation makes him feel...
Violated, in a way. Like his sacred, most private places have been torn open and scoured with dirty hands.
"Thank you, for answering," he says, watching her hopes start to rise, thinking she's about to get away with it all--
He smiles at her, benevolent. "Now get the fuck out of my house."
Sasaki isn't expecting that, so she stalls out a bit, blinking up at him in confusion. He
He smiles at her, benevolent. "Now get the fuck out of my house."
Sasaki isn't expecting that, so she stalls out a bit, blinking up at him in confusion. He
pushes away from her, clearing the path to the front door. Which is still hanging open, by the way, like she's not civilized enough to close the damn door.
There's a second where Sasaki just stares at him, waiting for him to take back what he said--
And when he doesn't, her
There's a second where Sasaki just stares at him, waiting for him to take back what he said--
And when he doesn't, her
face melts into stubbornness. "And what if I /don't/?Are you going to call the cops on me?After your dog /mauled/ me? My son lives here, you can't just kick me out."
His smile grows. "No,I won't call the cops on you."
Victory fills her face--
"I'm going to call /Kozo/ on you."
His smile grows. "No,I won't call the cops on you."
Victory fills her face--
"I'm going to call /Kozo/ on you."
The instant fear that fills her face is /satisfying/. There's only a handful of people that can claim kindness from him, and she's not one of them.
"I should warn you though; Kozo is a /bit/ harder to handle. Once he gets the taste of blood he just... goes /insane/. It'll be
"I should warn you though; Kozo is a /bit/ harder to handle. Once he gets the taste of blood he just... goes /insane/. It'll be
quite a bit harder to drag /him/ off you. I'm not sure I'm feeling up to it."
Lies. Kozo is much more receptive to commands during attacks, and he has sensitive ears. If someone pulls on them hard enough, he'll let go.
But /she/ doesn't know that.
The staredown continues long
Lies. Kozo is much more receptive to commands during attacks, and he has sensitive ears. If someone pulls on them hard enough, he'll let go.
But /she/ doesn't know that.
The staredown continues long
enough that he starts to open his mouth--
"Fine! Fine, I'll go.But I'm taking Shuuji with me, and you're going to regret being so harsh to me,"Sasaki snarls, stomping over to her purse that's been left on the couch.
Dazai highly doubts that.
As if sensing he was being called,
"Fine! Fine, I'll go.But I'm taking Shuuji with me, and you're going to regret being so harsh to me,"Sasaki snarls, stomping over to her purse that's been left on the couch.
Dazai highly doubts that.
As if sensing he was being called,
Shuuji comes trotting down the stairs. He looks wary,like he doesn't want to get in between their argument.
"Come on, darling, we're leaving," Sasaki orders, marching towards the door.
Shuuji hesitates, looking between them awkwardly. He finishes coming down slowly. "But mom--"
"Come on, darling, we're leaving," Sasaki orders, marching towards the door.
Shuuji hesitates, looking between them awkwardly. He finishes coming down slowly. "But mom--"
"No /buts/, Shuuji, get in the car /now/."
Dazai feels a little bad, watching Shuuji get dragged out of the house like a child being fought over in a divorce--
But it's nothing compared to the relief he feels when the door shuts behind them, and he's left alone in his house.
Dazai feels a little bad, watching Shuuji get dragged out of the house like a child being fought over in a divorce--
But it's nothing compared to the relief he feels when the door shuts behind them, and he's left alone in his house.
Alone, that is, with his dog and a mess to clean up.
Without the anger to spur him on, he feels so heavy. Heartsick, almost, weighed down by what happened until his feet feel stuck to the floor.
He wants his dog back.
He wants /Chuuya/, wants to collapse into him and just...
Without the anger to spur him on, he feels so heavy. Heartsick, almost, weighed down by what happened until his feet feel stuck to the floor.
He wants his dog back.
He wants /Chuuya/, wants to collapse into him and just...
Just breathe, without feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.
The sounds of Kozo snuffling outside jolt him into action. He still has to take care of him, even if he's starting to feel like /shit/ over Yoko.
He takes the bowl of food outside, watching as Kozo falls
The sounds of Kozo snuffling outside jolt him into action. He still has to take care of him, even if he's starting to feel like /shit/ over Yoko.
He takes the bowl of food outside, watching as Kozo falls
on it with more enthusiasm than he's seen for a long time.
Kozo automatically keeps clear of the space beside him, respecting his sister's space even when she's not there. The sight makes his stomach turn.
And then...
"Mrow?"
Dazai gets a scruffy, irritable little visitor.
Kozo automatically keeps clear of the space beside him, respecting his sister's space even when she's not there. The sight makes his stomach turn.
And then...
"Mrow?"
Dazai gets a scruffy, irritable little visitor.
For a cat that's dusty brown and black with street dust and car oil, the little feline does step with such important air and self-satisfied grace as he approaches.
By now, Kozo and the stray have come to terms with each other and they may not /like/ each other just yet, but
By now, Kozo and the stray have come to terms with each other and they may not /like/ each other just yet, but
they've come to this silent 'you ignore me and I ignore you' agreement.
"Hello there, little opportunist," Dazai murmurs, crouching down and offering his fingers for the stray to sniff. "Did you miss us while we were gone?"
The neighbor girl that Dazai pays to take care of the
"Hello there, little opportunist," Dazai murmurs, crouching down and offering his fingers for the stray to sniff. "Did you miss us while we were gone?"
The neighbor girl that Dazai pays to take care of the
dogs whenever he's gone is scared of cats,so he didn't ask her to do anything special for the stray.
It seems that the stray has taken that /personally/,because he's sniffing Dazai's fingers with a sense of disdain, alternating between glaring at him and glaring into the house.
It seems that the stray has taken that /personally/,because he's sniffing Dazai's fingers with a sense of disdain, alternating between glaring at him and glaring into the house.
"Don't worry," he tells the little cat, finding the spot under his chin that makes little rumbling purrs vibrate through his tiny body, "she's gone now."
He ends up feeding the stray some cat kibble he'd bought for him, and pieces of raw chicken to make up for the neglect over
He ends up feeding the stray some cat kibble he'd bought for him, and pieces of raw chicken to make up for the neglect over
the past week. It's only then that the little cat becomes /truly/ friendly,arching his back temptingly and staring up at Dazai with liquid green eyes as he silently begs for food.
After a while, he ends up taking a picture of the cat and Kozo, when Kozo comes over to investigate
After a while, he ends up taking a picture of the cat and Kozo, when Kozo comes over to investigate
why the cat is getting more chicken than he is.
He stares at the picture for a long while. It feels incomplete without Yoko in the background. Like there's an essential part missing.
Eventually, he sends it off to Chuuya with the caption of 'we miss you already'. It's probably
He stares at the picture for a long while. It feels incomplete without Yoko in the background. Like there's an essential part missing.
Eventually, he sends it off to Chuuya with the caption of 'we miss you already'. It's probably
pathetic, the way he feels like he /needs/ Chuuya, barely even two hours after they spent a week together.
The thing with Yoko is...upsetting, understandably, but it's not /permanent/. He should be stronger than this but--
For a long time, the dogs felt like the only beings in
The thing with Yoko is...upsetting, understandably, but it's not /permanent/. He should be stronger than this but--
For a long time, the dogs felt like the only beings in
the world that /loved/ him, unconditionally. He watched them grow up, and they taught him that not all dogs are something too be feared.
[ BABY ]: awww I miss you guys too!! Give yoko a kiss for me <3
Fuck.
He slides down, back against the wall of the house, staring at the
[ BABY ]: awww I miss you guys too!! Give yoko a kiss for me <3
Fuck.
He slides down, back against the wall of the house, staring at the
contact picture he has for Chuuya. He changed it recently, to a candid shot taken of Chuuya laughing and twisting his face up and away as Yoko tries to lick at his cheeks.
"I wish I could, chibi," he mutters, brushing over the picture of his dog obviously happy and infatuated
"I wish I could, chibi," he mutters, brushing over the picture of his dog obviously happy and infatuated
with the little chibi.
The stray cat primly hops up on his thigh, settling there with his paws tucked underneath him and soaking up his warmth.
Dazai allows himself the next twenty minutes to just...
Pet his animals, and get what comfort he can out of them, even though there
The stray cat primly hops up on his thigh, settling there with his paws tucked underneath him and soaking up his warmth.
Dazai allows himself the next twenty minutes to just...
Pet his animals, and get what comfort he can out of them, even though there
is something missing. /Someone/ missing, because there's a chibi-shaped space in his lap and a Yoko-shaped space to his left.
After those twenty minutes are up, he gets cleaning.
Changing out the blankets in the dog kennels, picking up all the kitchen utensils off the floor,
After those twenty minutes are up, he gets cleaning.
Changing out the blankets in the dog kennels, picking up all the kitchen utensils off the floor,
stripping the blankets off his bed, turning the mattress over in sheer /pettiness/, taking the woman's underwear out of his clothes drawer (he's too exhausted to be angry at the audacity), packing up everything that isn't /his/ and setting it near the door for easy access later.
He doesn't sleep. He doesn't text Chuuya back.
He just cleans and...
Waits until he can bring Yoko back home again.
----- +
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: I need your help.
Chuuya frowns at his phone screen. Dazai has been surprisingly silent the whole day, ever since that text last night.
He just cleans and...
Waits until he can bring Yoko back home again.
----- +
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: I need your help.
Chuuya frowns at his phone screen. Dazai has been surprisingly silent the whole day, ever since that text last night.
For a while, he'd been struggling between thinking he did something /wrong/ and arguing with himself that they just spent a /week/ together and they don't need to text all day again. He can wait.
[ CHUUYA ]: sure, what's up?
[ DADDY 🥰💕]: Are you busy tonight?
He /was/ but
[ CHUUYA ]: sure, what's up?
[ DADDY 🥰💕]: Are you busy tonight?
He /was/ but
something about how vague he's being makes Chuuya feel like this is important. The extra studying he was planning on getting in can wait.
[ CHUUYA ]: nope, i'm free all night and tomorrow morning.
The response doesn't come for another fifteen minutes, in which time he /almost/
[ CHUUYA ]: nope, i'm free all night and tomorrow morning.
The response doesn't come for another fifteen minutes, in which time he /almost/
texts Dazai again to ask what happened, or what he needs but then--
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: I'm outside.
He stares at his phone screen, confused and /concerned/ because--
Something about this seems /serious/? His gut is slowly sinking into dread, like he's about to get bad news.
[ DADDY 🥰💕 ]: I'm outside.
He stares at his phone screen, confused and /concerned/ because--
Something about this seems /serious/? His gut is slowly sinking into dread, like he's about to get bad news.
He probably has put his shoes on and exited the dorms quicker a few times before but--
Today the entire journey passes by in an anxiety-driven blur. There's something /wrong/, he can tell, and he can't think of what Dazai needs help with.
Is it the dogs? The cat? Shuuji?
Today the entire journey passes by in an anxiety-driven blur. There's something /wrong/, he can tell, and he can't think of what Dazai needs help with.
Is it the dogs? The cat? Shuuji?
...Is he breaking up with him?
Dazai is waiting in his usual spot in the parking lot, and outwardly, nothing new has happened but his /stance/ is different.
He's slumped against the passenger side of the car, hands shoved into his pockets. He's staring blankly ahead, and when
Dazai is waiting in his usual spot in the parking lot, and outwardly, nothing new has happened but his /stance/ is different.
He's slumped against the passenger side of the car, hands shoved into his pockets. He's staring blankly ahead, and when
he notices Chuuya coming, he greets him with a tiny, lopsided smile that looks incredibly hard for him to muster up.
As he gets closer, he notices that Dazai looks... rumpled, almost. Usually, unless they're slept together or for some other reason, Dazai is usually pretty well
As he gets closer, he notices that Dazai looks... rumpled, almost. Usually, unless they're slept together or for some other reason, Dazai is usually pretty well
put together. If any part of him looks /messy/, it's done in an artful, purposeful way.
Now though? Now his hair looks like he's been running his hands through it, and the black trench coat he's wearing just looks like he's trying to cover up his wrinkled outfit with it.
Now though? Now his hair looks like he's been running his hands through it, and the black trench coat he's wearing just looks like he's trying to cover up his wrinkled outfit with it.
He doesn't look like he's slept at /all/.
Chuuya's stomach sinks. They were so /happy/ yesterday, and now Dazai looks like he's about to break under the strain. How could it go so wrong so quickly?
He stops right in front of him, staring up at him with the softest, most
Chuuya's stomach sinks. They were so /happy/ yesterday, and now Dazai looks like he's about to break under the strain. How could it go so wrong so quickly?
He stops right in front of him, staring up at him with the softest, most
sympathetic look he can wear, eyes flickering over the pale, drawn lines of Dazai's face. He looks so /tired/, in a soul-deep way that makes Chuuya's heart ache with sympathy.
"What happened?" He asks softly, unsure if he wants to know but--
Dazai said he /needed/ him. And if
"What happened?" He asks softly, unsure if he wants to know but--
Dazai said he /needed/ him. And if
he /needs/ him, then he'll do whatever he needs to.
For a second, he just stares down at him, lopsided smile growing more and more morose, and Chuuya is actually afraid he might start /crying/ and he doesn't know what to do--
A large hand reaches out, snags him by the lapel of
For a second, he just stares down at him, lopsided smile growing more and more morose, and Chuuya is actually afraid he might start /crying/ and he doesn't know what to do--
A large hand reaches out, snags him by the lapel of
the jacket he's wearing,and drags him into a tight hug.
Because of their height difference,Chuuya often feels enveloped and smothered by Dazai. This hug is different, because now he feels like he's /supporting/ him,being the supporting beam as Dazai drapes himself on top of him.
Because of their height difference,Chuuya often feels enveloped and smothered by Dazai. This hug is different, because now he feels like he's /supporting/ him,being the supporting beam as Dazai drapes himself on top of him.
He stands firm, letting Dazai lean his weight on him. His chin gets propped up on his head, and his arms are tight, /heavy/, bands around his shoulders.
They just like that for a while, with Chuuya's hands rubbing rhythmically over his back in an effort to comfort him. Dazai
They just like that for a while, with Chuuya's hands rubbing rhythmically over his back in an effort to comfort him. Dazai
is strangely tense, but also /limp/ in a way that speaks of exhaustion and stress.
With a sigh, Dazai pulls him closer and buries his nose in his hair.
Then, in a hoarse but forced-steady voice, like he's trying not to let it /bother/ him:
"It's Yoko."
No, no, /no/.
With a sigh, Dazai pulls him closer and buries his nose in his hair.
Then, in a hoarse but forced-steady voice, like he's trying not to let it /bother/ him:
"It's Yoko."
No, no, /no/.
Panic and anxiety is /instantly/ welling up inside him, and he /almost/ jerks out of Dazai's hold to /demand/ he tell him what happened. It's a struggle to keep calm as he asks, "What about Yoko?"
"She..." Dazai starts, trailing off. He turns his head to press his cheek to the
"She..." Dazai starts, trailing off. He turns his head to press his cheek to the
top of his head. Normally, Chuuya might be annoyed by the subtle way he messes up his hair by rubbing his cheek against him, but not right now. "...She was impounded by animal control yesterday. She's home now, but..."
That doesn't make /sense/. Obviously, Yoko is a trained dog,
That doesn't make /sense/. Obviously, Yoko is a trained dog,
but she's /sweet/. She likes belly rubs, and her paws tickled, and she thinks the stray cat is her /best friend/. Why would anyone call animal control on her? Why would they /impound/ her?
"Why did they take her?"
"She bit Shuuji's mother, Sasaki. She called them."
Admittedly,
"Why did they take her?"
"She bit Shuuji's mother, Sasaki. She called them."
Admittedly,
Chuuya has never met the lady, and he hasn't heard /that/ much about her, but--
If he didn't have a reason to hate her /before/, he sure as hell does now.
"Anyways, she's home now, but she won't come out from under the couch and-- I don't know what to /do/." Dazai's voice
If he didn't have a reason to hate her /before/, he sure as hell does now.
"Anyways, she's home now, but she won't come out from under the couch and-- I don't know what to /do/." Dazai's voice
cracks on the last word, and Chuuya finally gets a /hint/ of what emotional turmoil he must be in right now.
“Okay,” he says into his chest, squeezing him tighter. Trying to reassure him that he’s /here/, he’s going to help him, and they’re going to help her together. “Other
“Okay,” he says into his chest, squeezing him tighter. Trying to reassure him that he’s /here/, he’s going to help him, and they’re going to help her together. “Other
than that, she’s okay though?”
He’s heard some horror stories of /bad/ animal shelters and with the way Dazai is acting—
What if it’s /worse/ than that?
“Yeah, she’s physically fine.”
Alright. They can handle that. Chuuya can deal with anxiety, can help calm her down. But
He’s heard some horror stories of /bad/ animal shelters and with the way Dazai is acting—
What if it’s /worse/ than that?
“Yeah, she’s physically fine.”
Alright. They can handle that. Chuuya can deal with anxiety, can help calm her down. But
his next concern is—
“Are /you/ okay?”
Dazai doesn’t let him pull away, crushing him to his chest until it almost hurts. It’s hard to judge what he’s feeling without looking at his face, but he just hugs him back as tightly as possible.
“She /adores/ you so I was hoping you
“Are /you/ okay?”
Dazai doesn’t let him pull away, crushing him to his chest until it almost hurts. It’s hard to judge what he’s feeling without looking at his face, but he just hugs him back as tightly as possible.
“She /adores/ you so I was hoping you
might be able to get her to come out without making it worse.”
He shifts, nudging his head against Dazai’s cheek. “That’s not what I asked, Osamu.”
Maybe it’s the /name/ or the insistence on asking twice, or being pressed so tightly together, but the next breath Dazai takes is
He shifts, nudging his head against Dazai’s cheek. “That’s not what I asked, Osamu.”
Maybe it’s the /name/ or the insistence on asking twice, or being pressed so tightly together, but the next breath Dazai takes is
a long, shuddering one.
“I put her in the truck, Chuuya.”
Oh, /no/. He must be feeling so guilty.
“She was looking at me, and begging me not to let her go, and I let them take her. I let her go.”
He can /hear/ it, the sound of guilt and remorse in his voice. Can feel the
“I put her in the truck, Chuuya.”
Oh, /no/. He must be feeling so guilty.
“She was looking at me, and begging me not to let her go, and I let them take her. I let her go.”
He can /hear/ it, the sound of guilt and remorse in his voice. Can feel the
weight of it pressing along his frame, dragging him down.
“No you didn’t,” Chuuya tells him, forcibly leaning back. Dazai tries to follow him, but he pushes him upright so he can get a good look at his face and the sincerity shining there. “You didn’t let her go. She was /taken/
“No you didn’t,” Chuuya tells him, forcibly leaning back. Dazai tries to follow him, but he pushes him upright so he can get a good look at his face and the sincerity shining there. “You didn’t let her go. She was /taken/
and you brought her home. She’s safe now, and she’s /home/, and you are doing the best you can, okay?”
He lets go of his waist with one hand, bringing it up to cup his face and brush his thumb along his cheekbone.
He can tell, by the way Dazai doesn’t answer and the way he
He lets go of his waist with one hand, bringing it up to cup his face and brush his thumb along his cheekbone.
He can tell, by the way Dazai doesn’t answer and the way he
leans his cheek into his palm and closes his eyes, that he doesn’t really believe him.
That’s okay. He always knew Dazai was stubborn.He’ll just need some convincing, right now.
It’s going to be okay, he tries to tell him silently, with touch and affection.
Chuuya’s here now.
That’s okay. He always knew Dazai was stubborn.He’ll just need some convincing, right now.
It’s going to be okay, he tries to tell him silently, with touch and affection.
Chuuya’s here now.
“Take me home,” he says, soft and quiet. The significance of his words won’t hit him until later, because right /now/, he has caramel-sweet eyes cracking open to look at him, and even though they are sad and melancholy—
They’re also one of the most beautiful things Chuuya has
They’re also one of the most beautiful things Chuuya has
ever seen.
The ride back is quiet, mostly filled with the background noise of the radio playing on low volume. Chuuya spends the entire ride holding one of Dazai’s hands. Interlacing their fingers, pressing it to his cheek, scattering a few kisses over his knuckles in silent
The ride back is quiet, mostly filled with the background noise of the radio playing on low volume. Chuuya spends the entire ride holding one of Dazai’s hands. Interlacing their fingers, pressing it to his cheek, scattering a few kisses over his knuckles in silent
comfort.
It helps, a little.
And when they get to his house, entering in the front door quietly, one of the first things Chuuya sees is a furry dog butt sticking out halfway from underneath the couch, tail tucked tightly to her side.
She’s silent, but the sight makes his
It helps, a little.
And when they get to his house, entering in the front door quietly, one of the first things Chuuya sees is a furry dog butt sticking out halfway from underneath the couch, tail tucked tightly to her side.
She’s silent, but the sight makes his
heart ache. Poor Yoko.
“I’ll go make dinner,” Dazai mutters, moving to go into the kitchen—
Chuuya catches him by the wrist, tugs him back. “No, you’re going to order us something instead.”
There’s a moment where Dazai just looks at him, eyebrow arched. Then his expression
“I’ll go make dinner,” Dazai mutters, moving to go into the kitchen—
Chuuya catches him by the wrist, tugs him back. “No, you’re going to order us something instead.”
There’s a moment where Dazai just looks at him, eyebrow arched. Then his expression
dissolves into amusement, and /finally/ he’s smiling for real. “Is that how it’s going to be now? You’re gonna boss me around?”
Chuuya sticks his tongue out at him. “You boss /me/ around, so it’s only fair.”
“Yes, but,” Dazai leans in, eyes crinkled with a smile, “you like it
Chuuya sticks his tongue out at him. “You boss /me/ around, so it’s only fair.”
“Yes, but,” Dazai leans in, eyes crinkled with a smile, “you like it
when I boss you around.”
“Are you saying you /don’t/ like it when I boss you around?”
Dazai considers that, reaching out to brush part of his bangs out of his face. His fingers are achingly gentle. “I wouldn’t say that,” he murmurs eventually, “it’s kind of cute.”
“Are you saying you /don’t/ like it when I boss you around?”
Dazai considers that, reaching out to brush part of his bangs out of his face. His fingers are achingly gentle. “I wouldn’t say that,” he murmurs eventually, “it’s kind of cute.”
Embarrassingly enough, even though they’ve done /so/ much together, and Dazai has been so deep inside him he might as well have been in his /soul/—
That little comment, combined with the openly adoring look on Dazai’s face, is enough to have Chuuya blushing and looking away.
That little comment, combined with the openly adoring look on Dazai’s face, is enough to have Chuuya blushing and looking away.
His /laugh/ is even worse, soft and fond, Chuuya’s favorite sound in the whole world.
“See?” Dazai teases gently, tugging on a strand of his hair, “Cute.”
Before Chuuya can do anything more than swallow hard, Dazai is spinning around and heading into the kitchen. There’s a
“See?” Dazai teases gently, tugging on a strand of his hair, “Cute.”
Before Chuuya can do anything more than swallow hard, Dazai is spinning around and heading into the kitchen. There’s a
stack of takeout menu’s hidden in one of the drawers.
Some of them are new additions. Chuuya’s favorites.
“Order me—,” he starts.
Dazai waves him off, shuffling through the stack. “Yes, yes, I know what you like.”
He /does/, doesn’t he? Something about that, the sheer
Some of them are new additions. Chuuya’s favorites.
“Order me—,” he starts.
Dazai waves him off, shuffling through the stack. “Yes, yes, I know what you like.”
He /does/, doesn’t he? Something about that, the sheer
domesticity of Dazai knowing what his favorite foods are from /several/ restaurants, knowing what to order him without having to ask, having his own place in the shoe rack—
If fills him with wonder and awe. Is this what relationships are like? Knowing something and being known
If fills him with wonder and awe. Is this what relationships are like? Knowing something and being known
in return? Having a spot in Dazai’s home, in his life, in his /heart/, that’s specifically for Chuuya?
Knowing that, no matter what, he always has a home to come back to?
He watches Dazai for a moment, unsure of what to do with the strong emotion bubbling up in his chest
Knowing that, no matter what, he always has a home to come back to?
He watches Dazai for a moment, unsure of what to do with the strong emotion bubbling up in his chest
except just—
/Stare/, because he really did get lucky, didn’t he? He never would’ve thought his life would’ve wound up /here/, and if you had told him even a few months ago that he’d be /this/ happy?
He wouldn’t have believed you.
Sure, it’s unconventional and lots of
/Stare/, because he really did get lucky, didn’t he? He never would’ve thought his life would’ve wound up /here/, and if you had told him even a few months ago that he’d be /this/ happy?
He wouldn’t have believed you.
Sure, it’s unconventional and lots of
people his age might find it /weird/, or think that his time would be better off spent sleeping around or partying while he’s young but—
Home is /home/, and that won’t ever change.
Sometimes home is your boyfriend, the stray cat and...
His dogs.
His gaze breaks away from
Home is /home/, and that won’t ever change.
Sometimes home is your boyfriend, the stray cat and...
His dogs.
His gaze breaks away from
Dazai and lands on Yoko. She hasn’t moved at all, not even her tail has twitched from its position tucked against her side.
He moves over quietly but smoothly, not trying to sneak up on her /or/ startle her with too much noise.
A few books have been shoved underneath one of
He moves over quietly but smoothly, not trying to sneak up on her /or/ startle her with too much noise.
A few books have been shoved underneath one of
the legs of the couch, lifting it up enough so that Yoko isn’t being squished underneath the wooden frame.
“Yokooooo,” he croons invitingly, crouching down beside her.
Her tail thumps once against the ground, hesitantly. Despite everything, that pulls a smile from Chuuya.
“Yokooooo,” he croons invitingly, crouching down beside her.
Her tail thumps once against the ground, hesitantly. Despite everything, that pulls a smile from Chuuya.
“Yeah,you know me,pretty girl,” he says to her,reaching out to tug on the end of her tail in the way that usually has her rolling on her back and flashing her teeth playfully.”Are you going to come out and say hello?”
Another two thumps, and he can sense how interested she is.
Another two thumps, and he can sense how interested she is.
But even though he can see her shifting underneath the couch, and her tail is starting up a slow, hesitant rhythm the more he pets her--
She doesn't move to come out. And sometimes, when someone you love can't come out themselves--
"You're just as stubborn as your dad," he
She doesn't move to come out. And sometimes, when someone you love can't come out themselves--
"You're just as stubborn as your dad," he
mutters, ignoring Dazai's soft 'Hey!' from the kitchen as he lays down on the floor and begins the process of wiggling under the couch with her.
-- sometimes, you have to go in after them.
It's surprisingly roomy down here, and mostly clean. There's a few piece of change
-- sometimes, you have to go in after them.
It's surprisingly roomy down here, and mostly clean. There's a few piece of change
scattered over the floor, and some lint hanging from the couch fabric. There's what looks like an empty candy wrapper near Yoko's paw, but overall pretty clean and /much/ better than the couch back at Chuuya's family home.
"Cozy down here," he says conversationally, wiggling up
"Cozy down here," he says conversationally, wiggling up
until he's lying on his back with his head level with Yoko's. She's staring resolutely ahead, like she's determined not to show that she's starting to cheer up, but her ears are pointed back towards him and her tail is picking up speed.
It /is/ cozy down here, though. Warm, but
It /is/ cozy down here, though. Warm, but
not hot. The couch overhead creates this sense of safety and security, boxing them in and hiding them from view. There's enough room that he can lift his head a little bit.
It's like a den, almost. He can see why she dived under here and won't come out. No one can get them down
It's like a den, almost. He can see why she dived under here and won't come out. No one can get them down
here.
"I heard you had a hard day," he says, turning his head to look at her. With the limited room, it's a bit difficult to get his hand on top of her head, but he manages it. He can only do short, awkward strokes between her ears, but she seems to appreciate it anyways.
"I heard you had a hard day," he says, turning his head to look at her. With the limited room, it's a bit difficult to get his hand on top of her head, but he manages it. He can only do short, awkward strokes between her ears, but she seems to appreciate it anyways.
"That must've been scary."
Dazai didn't really give him explicit details, but just knowing that she was dragged out and impounded for doing her job as a good guard dog is all he needs to feel sympathy for her. She's obviously still upset too, and anxious.
She whines, softly,
Dazai didn't really give him explicit details, but just knowing that she was dragged out and impounded for doing her job as a good guard dog is all he needs to feel sympathy for her. She's obviously still upset too, and anxious.
She whines, softly,
like she's agreeing. Her nose is wet when she pushes it into his palm.
"You know, when I was little, my dad and I got robbed once," he muses, unsure why he's telling her this story. It's not like she can understand it, but talking to her seems to help. "I was too little to
"You know, when I was little, my dad and I got robbed once," he muses, unsure why he's telling her this story. It's not like she can understand it, but talking to her seems to help. "I was too little to
understand what was going on, really, but I do remember that there were scary men that yelled at my Dad and made him cry. I cried too, even though I tried to be brave."
Yoko shifts more onto her side, cuddling up into the curve of his body. Her head ends up being tucked
Yoko shifts more onto her side, cuddling up into the curve of his body. Her head ends up being tucked
underneath his arm.
"And I remember being scared for a few days after, because what if they came back and made us cry again? I didn't want that to happen."
It's a vague memory by now, blurred by time and youth. Most of his recollection of it is in big, formless shapes, and the
"And I remember being scared for a few days after, because what if they came back and made us cry again? I didn't want that to happen."
It's a vague memory by now, blurred by time and youth. Most of his recollection of it is in big, formless shapes, and the
stories he'd been told of it.
"Eventually, Dad sat me down and told me that it was okay to be afraid but I couldn't let that fear tell me what to do. I couldn't hide under my bed or under the couch. Life was outside, and there were good things and bad things in it."
He can hear
"Eventually, Dad sat me down and told me that it was okay to be afraid but I couldn't let that fear tell me what to do. I couldn't hide under my bed or under the couch. Life was outside, and there were good things and bad things in it."
He can hear
Dazai moving around in the kitchen, making small noises as he moves about. Chuuya didn't catch the phone call he made for food, but he can't hear him talking now.
"Anyways, I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's okay to be afraid, but you can't hide under the couch forever.
"Anyways, I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's okay to be afraid, but you can't hide under the couch forever.
Your dad is worried about you, and he needs you. Your ball--" it's encouraging, that her ears perk up at the mention, "-- is outside, and so is Kozo. Your little cat friend probably misses you too. So you have to come out."
Footsteps approach, just loud enough for him to hear.
Footsteps approach, just loud enough for him to hear.
He lifts his head, just in time to see Dazai's black socks come into view and stop right in front of him.
Then, large hands are wrapping around his calves and pulling him out from under the couch, easily.
His view goes from the grey-white underside of the couch to honey-gold
Then, large hands are wrapping around his calves and pulling him out from under the couch, easily.
His view goes from the grey-white underside of the couch to honey-gold
eyes and a head full of dark hair, and a charmingly white smile.
"You guys are talking an awful lot down there," Dazai teases, crouching down to bridge the distance between them. One of his hands braces his weight near Chuuya's head. "What are you saying?"
"Secrets," Chuuya
"You guys are talking an awful lot down there," Dazai teases, crouching down to bridge the distance between them. One of his hands braces his weight near Chuuya's head. "What are you saying?"
"Secrets," Chuuya
tells him, smiling so big it hurts.
"It's not nice to keep secrets," he pouts, reaching out to brush his thumb gently over his freckled cheek, pausing to admire the rising heat there.
"Call her," Dazai continues before he can respond, voice lowering. "She'll come out for you."
"It's not nice to keep secrets," he pouts, reaching out to brush his thumb gently over his freckled cheek, pausing to admire the rising heat there.
"Call her," Dazai continues before he can respond, voice lowering. "She'll come out for you."
He can't look away, his vision caught by the man hovering above him with a heart-melting smile. "Yoko," he calls, filling his voice with as much temptation as he possibly can.
There's a moment, when she doesn't immediately move, that he thinks she still won't come out. That she
There's a moment, when she doesn't immediately move, that he thinks she still won't come out. That she
still needs a little more time, but then--
With a sudden thrash, she's wiggling out from underneath the couch, butt-first. Her fur is standing on end and wild when her head pops out, and she sits up to look around.
She sees them, inches away, and her tail begins to slap against
With a sudden thrash, she's wiggling out from underneath the couch, butt-first. Her fur is standing on end and wild when her head pops out, and she sits up to look around.
She sees them, inches away, and her tail begins to slap against
the ground and her face melts into her signature doggy-smile, tongue lolling.
"There you are," Dazai breathes, relieved, reaching out with his other hand. She sniffs his fingers curiously, letting him get a few pets over her head before she gets distracted by some smell on the
"There you are," Dazai breathes, relieved, reaching out with his other hand. She sniffs his fingers curiously, letting him get a few pets over her head before she gets distracted by some smell on the
ground and begins to follow it.
She's still nervous, going stiff whenever there's a noise she didn't expect, but now that's she exploring her home again, nose to the ground, Chuuya can safely say that she's going to be just fine.
"Told you she'd be okay," he says, gloating
She's still nervous, going stiff whenever there's a noise she didn't expect, but now that's she exploring her home again, nose to the ground, Chuuya can safely say that she's going to be just fine.
"Told you she'd be okay," he says, gloating
just a /little/. He likes that Yoko cheered up so quickly for him, makes him feel /special/. She's Dazai's dog, obviously, but they have a special connection.
The corner of Dazai's mouth tips up, into something amused. "You did," he admits, and he's looking back down on him now,
The corner of Dazai's mouth tips up, into something amused. "You did," he admits, and he's looking back down on him now,
leaning close, closer, /closest/--
"Thank you," gets murmured into the corner of his mouth, seconds before Dazai captures him in a deep, slow kiss that makes Chuuya's heart stutter in his chest before picking up double-time.
It's not fast, or frantic, or hard, or like any of
"Thank you," gets murmured into the corner of his mouth, seconds before Dazai captures him in a deep, slow kiss that makes Chuuya's heart stutter in his chest before picking up double-time.
It's not fast, or frantic, or hard, or like any of
their kisses before. /This/ one feels full of affection and adoration, like Dazai swallowed the sun itself and is feeding it to him in small, kiss-shaped bites, ones that make his chest ache and his stomach feel like it's free-falling, and his head light as air.
It feels like
It feels like
being /caught/, like being held with gentle-soft hands, like a door opening to let you inside, like all the things you dream of when you imagine the feeling of being loved.
Dazai's hair is soft. Always is, and his fingers tangle in the strands naturally, clinging close. He never
Dazai's hair is soft. Always is, and his fingers tangle in the strands naturally, clinging close. He never
wants to let go.
He could do this forever. It'd be easy, the easiest thing he's ever done.
There's a short series of knocks on the door, startling them apart.
Dazai pulls away slowly, brushing a few lingering kisses over his bottom lip. Chuuya arches up into him, silently
He could do this forever. It'd be easy, the easiest thing he's ever done.
There's a short series of knocks on the door, startling them apart.
Dazai pulls away slowly, brushing a few lingering kisses over his bottom lip. Chuuya arches up into him, silently
hoping he'll just ignore it and go back to kissing him, /please/, he wants it, he /loves it/.
No dice.
With a muttered, "food's here," Dazai is pulling away entirely and forcing him to let go. He stands, arching his back to stretch out the strain caused by the weird angle.
No dice.
With a muttered, "food's here," Dazai is pulling away entirely and forcing him to let go. He stands, arching his back to stretch out the strain caused by the weird angle.
From the floor, Chuuya pouts up at him. This is so unfair. Maybe he should've let Dazai cook.
At least then they wouldn't get /interrupted/.
When Chuuya leans up on his elbows, the first thing he sees is Yoko, stiff-necked and hackles raised as she glares at the door.
At least then they wouldn't get /interrupted/.
When Chuuya leans up on his elbows, the first thing he sees is Yoko, stiff-necked and hackles raised as she glares at the door.
Considering the /last/ time there was a knock on the door she was then summarily dragged out and taken to the animal version of prison, it’s understandable for her to be wary.
Dazai opens the door, just wide enough for him to get his things, but keeping Chuuya and Yoko out of
Dazai opens the door, just wide enough for him to get his things, but keeping Chuuya and Yoko out of
sight.
There’s something about that, the casual defensiveness and protection about it that makes butterflies flutter in his stomach.
There’s a quiet exchange of food and money, and Chuuya is /pretty sure/ the delivery wasn’t worth that much cash but—
That’s none of his
There’s something about that, the casual defensiveness and protection about it that makes butterflies flutter in his stomach.
There’s a quiet exchange of food and money, and Chuuya is /pretty sure/ the delivery wasn’t worth that much cash but—
That’s none of his
business, is it?
When Dazai shuts the door again, plastic bags are hanging from his wrist.
Dinner is quiet and a casual thing. Usually they eat inside at the table, but today they eat on the porch to watch the sunset. It also lets them watch over Yoko as she reasserts her
When Dazai shuts the door again, plastic bags are hanging from his wrist.
Dinner is quiet and a casual thing. Usually they eat inside at the table, but today they eat on the porch to watch the sunset. It also lets them watch over Yoko as she reasserts her
dominance over Kozo by wrestling with him in the grass.
It’s hard to tell if she wins because she’s fiercer and more determined, or just because Kozo is too interested in his bone to keep fighting over nothing.
Halfway through, there’s a disgruntled meow from underneath the
It’s hard to tell if she wins because she’s fiercer and more determined, or just because Kozo is too interested in his bone to keep fighting over nothing.
Halfway through, there’s a disgruntled meow from underneath the
porch and the stray cat comes trotting up like he’s irritated he didn’t get an invitation to dinner. Once he sees Chuuya though, he perks right up, tail waving fondly in the air as he rubs against his ankles with rumbling purrs.
Normally, he’s a bit more strict about animals
Normally, he’s a bit more strict about animals
during dinner, because he doesn’t like little wet noses sniffing at his food, but today he lets it go.
They all had a hard day yesterday, and he can’t say that a little love and affection between them all is starting to soothe away the aches.
Besides, a purring cat on his lap
They all had a hard day yesterday, and he can’t say that a little love and affection between them all is starting to soothe away the aches.
Besides, a purring cat on his lap
is doing wonders for the lingering ache in his thighs.
The soreness was at its /worst/ this morning, and when he first woke up, he was convinced he wasn’t going to be able to walk at all today. He had to lie miserably in his bed for an hour as his body slowly warmed up and the
The soreness was at its /worst/ this morning, and when he first woke up, he was convinced he wasn’t going to be able to walk at all today. He had to lie miserably in his bed for an hour as his body slowly warmed up and the
aches began to fade away.
Once he was able to take a shower, it got better. He’s glad that summer break is still ongoing and the dorms are mostly empty for another week or so, otherwise someone might have seen him mournfully leaning against the wall underneath the weak water
Once he was able to take a shower, it got better. He’s glad that summer break is still ongoing and the dorms are mostly empty for another week or so, otherwise someone might have seen him mournfully leaning against the wall underneath the weak water
pressure and reminiscing about having a /bath/ as he fumbled to clean himself.
It’s not a surprise to him that he actually /likes/ the ache. He likes the constant, subtle reminder of what Dazai did to him, and he /likes/ the pain. The bruises on his neck and thighs are
It’s not a surprise to him that he actually /likes/ the ache. He likes the constant, subtle reminder of what Dazai did to him, and he /likes/ the pain. The bruises on his neck and thighs are
fading quickly too, which he’s silently mourning.
To him, bruises and soreness means he worked /hard/ at something, means he did well—
And to have the reminder of how /good/ was to him, to press on and massage until it’s aching—
Yeah, that’s good. He wants /more/ already,
To him, bruises and soreness means he worked /hard/ at something, means he did well—
And to have the reminder of how /good/ was to him, to press on and massage until it’s aching—
Yeah, that’s good. He wants /more/ already,
is contemplating how to get himself underneath Dazai’s teeth again, now that the pain is fading pleasantly into the background.
Maybe not today though, he silently sighs to himself, because even though Dazai is /clearly/ on the upswing and he’s talking and smiling again—
Maybe not today though, he silently sighs to himself, because even though Dazai is /clearly/ on the upswing and he’s talking and smiling again—
He /did/ have a rather emotional day, and he’s soaking up whatever comfort Chuuya is giving him. His eyes are still guarded, looking haunted whenever they linger on Yoko for too long.
And it feels kind of...insensitive? To be like ‘hey you’re starting to feel better, let’s fuck
And it feels kind of...insensitive? To be like ‘hey you’re starting to feel better, let’s fuck
about it.’ It feels like he’s putting his physical needs over Dazai’s emotional ones and that’s not what he /wants/ to do, he’s just—
Needy, and quickly finding himself getting addicted to just how /good/ sex can be.
When you’re a virgin, you don’t /need/ sex. It’s tempting,
Needy, and quickly finding himself getting addicted to just how /good/ sex can be.
When you’re a virgin, you don’t /need/ sex. It’s tempting,
yes, but you don’t /need/ it. You think you can live without it, and not many things casually remind you of it.
/He/ used to think that he didn’t need sex. That it was overrated and overselled, and the pitying looks he got when he said he never had it before, were dramatic.
/He/ used to think that he didn’t need sex. That it was overrated and overselled, and the pitying looks he got when he said he never had it before, were dramatic.
That all changed as soon as Dazai got his hands on him, and now Chuuya is watching the skilled, effortless way he handles his chopsticks, the way his hand settles casually on his thigh and nearly wraps around the entire width—
And he’s thinking to himself, /I need it, I need it
And he’s thinking to himself, /I need it, I need it
I need it so fucking bad, how did I go eighteen years without having it, I’m going to die without it./
Admittedly, he’s being dramatic but that doesn’t stop him from occasionally stabbing his crab-cakes too hard when Dazai’s fingers squeeze his thigh.
When they finish, Dazai
Admittedly, he’s being dramatic but that doesn’t stop him from occasionally stabbing his crab-cakes too hard when Dazai’s fingers squeeze his thigh.
When they finish, Dazai
ends up cleaning up after both of them, because the cat is still in his lap and whenever Chuuya goes to move him, he digs his claws in with a low growl.
Spoiled thing, but fine. He can afford to pamper the stray with a little more attention. He’s probably been missing it.
Spoiled thing, but fine. He can afford to pamper the stray with a little more attention. He’s probably been missing it.
He /does/ feel bad when he eventually has to go inside, because the cat blindly tries to follow him and--
He's not Dazai's cat, and this isn't Chuuya's home. (Yet.) He might've been able to coax Dazai into giving the cat some blankets in a little, warm nook outside and some food
He's not Dazai's cat, and this isn't Chuuya's home. (Yet.) He might've been able to coax Dazai into giving the cat some blankets in a little, warm nook outside and some food
to make sure he doesn't go hungry, but he can't just invite the cat in, no matter how pitifully the poor thing is looking at him. Dazai hasn't mentioned /adopting/ the cat, and as far as Chuuya knows, he doesn't even like cats.
He's still good to the animal, but that doesn't
He's still good to the animal, but that doesn't
mean he wants to /keep/ him. He didn't even think about feeding him until he practically blackmailed him into doing it.
But Chuuya wants to keep him. Wants to keep him /so/ bad. He's never had a cat before--his father is allergic-- and underneath all the dust, the cat is /so/
But Chuuya wants to keep him. Wants to keep him /so/ bad. He's never had a cat before--his father is allergic-- and underneath all the dust, the cat is /so/
soft. Fluffy, too, and warm in such a /holdable/ way, like a soft, squishy, warm little pillow you can carry around with you and hold for hours.
"Soon," he promises the little kitty, shutting the sliding door slowly. Big green eyes stare at him from the other side, betrayed.
"Soon," he promises the little kitty, shutting the sliding door slowly. Big green eyes stare at him from the other side, betrayed.
Inside, Dazai is cleaning up the mess in the kitchen and putting away the extra food for later. He looks so effortlessly at home, confident and sure in his own domain.
To keep himself from getting caught staring, Chuuya takes out the bag of dog treats from one of the cupboards
To keep himself from getting caught staring, Chuuya takes out the bag of dog treats from one of the cupboards
and spends some time making Yoko and Kozo do cute little tricks for them. If they both get more treats than they /usually/ do, well--
That's between him and them.
When Dazai is done, he comes over to drape himself over Chuuya's back again, chin propped up on his head and arms
That's between him and them.
When Dazai is done, he comes over to drape himself over Chuuya's back again, chin propped up on his head and arms
heavy and tight around his shoulders. He rocks them both, back and forth, just a little bit.
"It's late," he sighs, turning his head to nuzzle his cheek into his hair. It's not late, barely past dinner time, but with how exhausted he looks, Chuuya is surprised he's lasted this
"It's late," he sighs, turning his head to nuzzle his cheek into his hair. It's not late, barely past dinner time, but with how exhausted he looks, Chuuya is surprised he's lasted this
long. "And I'm tired. I can take you home now, or you can--."
He cuts himself off there, like he's not sure how to finish that sentence or he's not sure how to /ask/.
That's something he's noticed about Dazai, more and more these days. He has an almost creepy talent for
He cuts himself off there, like he's not sure how to finish that sentence or he's not sure how to /ask/.
That's something he's noticed about Dazai, more and more these days. He has an almost creepy talent for
snuffing out what Chuuya needs--whether that be physically, or emotionally-- and giving it to him, most of the time before he can even /ask/ for it. And when he does ask for it, it's given to him quickly and easily.
But the man also /never/ asks for anything himself. He's shut
But the man also /never/ asks for anything himself. He's shut
up tight, and it's so /hard/ to guess what he's feeling. If he needs something, he usually ends up /taking/ it, but that's usually /physical/ needs and sometimes--
Sometimes you need more than that. And it's hard to ask, Chuuya understands that, but he /also/ wants to be the
Sometimes you need more than that. And it's hard to ask, Chuuya understands that, but he /also/ wants to be the
person Dazai feels safe and comfortable enough to come to when he needs something.
Tossing the dog treats onto the counter out of reach, Chuuya turns in his arms. Dazai lets him, giving him the room to wrap his arms around his waist and look up at him.
The bags under his eyes
Tossing the dog treats onto the counter out of reach, Chuuya turns in his arms. Dazai lets him, giving him the room to wrap his arms around his waist and look up at him.
The bags under his eyes
makes sympathy pang through him. "I can what?" He asks gently, smiling encouragingly up at him.
He's pretty sure he knows what he's going to ask, but the act of asking is important in itself.
One of Dazai's hands slides up, finding the curve of his jaw and cupping it. His
He's pretty sure he knows what he's going to ask, but the act of asking is important in itself.
One of Dazai's hands slides up, finding the curve of his jaw and cupping it. His
thumb brushes over his lips. The very tips of his fingers tangle in his hair, rubbing over the wild strands, quietly reverent. Silent, steady, every day worship.
Chuuya leans his cheek into his hold,silently waiting for the question, unhurried.
"You could stay, if you wanted."
Chuuya leans his cheek into his hold,silently waiting for the question, unhurried.
"You could stay, if you wanted."
Chuuya smiles up at him. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
He doesn’t want to go back to the too-hard twin bed in his dorm anyways. After a week of sleeping in a luxurious king that was the perfect amount of supportive and soft, going back to his dorm bed was like going to sleep on a
He doesn’t want to go back to the too-hard twin bed in his dorm anyways. After a week of sleeping in a luxurious king that was the perfect amount of supportive and soft, going back to his dorm bed was like going to sleep on a
/rock/. His back popped like eight times when he woke up, it was horrible.
With a small, lopsided smile, Dazai leans down to give him a single, grateful kiss. It’s long, lingering, Dazai’s top lip slotting naturally between his.
The dogs watch as they go about making sure all
With a small, lopsided smile, Dazai leans down to give him a single, grateful kiss. It’s long, lingering, Dazai’s top lip slotting naturally between his.
The dogs watch as they go about making sure all
the doors are locked and the windows are closed and all the electronics are off. It’s a little pathetic, the way he feels like swooning when Dazai asks him to turn off the porch light but—
It’s /domestic/. It’s what he did when he was living at home, and to do it /here/, in his
It’s /domestic/. It’s what he did when he was living at home, and to do it /here/, in his
/boyfriend’s/ house, makes their relationship feel real and /solid/.
It was easy to believe they were dating in Osaka. That felt like a dream, like something he would wake up from eventually. It’d be a good dream and he’d roll over and try to continue it but—
Just a dream.
It was easy to believe they were dating in Osaka. That felt like a dream, like something he would wake up from eventually. It’d be a good dream and he’d roll over and try to continue it but—
Just a dream.
But this? Borrowing one of Dazai’s button down shirts to sleep in and crawling into bed with him?
Real.
The way they settle in the middle, and Yoko comes leaping up to lay along the length of Chuuya’s back, warm and solid and heavy?
Real.
The way he’s the one drawing
Real.
The way they settle in the middle, and Yoko comes leaping up to lay along the length of Chuuya’s back, warm and solid and heavy?
Real.
The way he’s the one drawing
Dazai in this time, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and holding /him/ instead of the other way around, the way it usually is?
Real.
The way long, strong arms are sliding around his waist to drag him closer, a heavy head on his chest with Dazai’s nose tucked into his
Real.
The way long, strong arms are sliding around his waist to drag him closer, a heavy head on his chest with Dazai’s nose tucked into his
neck. Soft hair tickling his nose, the grounding weight of Dazai stretched out on top of him, stomach pressing down on his hips.
Real, real, /real/, and if this is a dream—
He doesn’t ever want to wake up. Let him sleep, forever if necessary, because his future is /here/.
Real, real, /real/, and if this is a dream—
He doesn’t ever want to wake up. Let him sleep, forever if necessary, because his future is /here/.
With brown eyes, brown hair, and sugar-sharp smiles.
And if the devil came up and offered to buy his soul, Chuuya would say he already found heaven.
——— +
There’s a knock on the door. Late, by seven minutes. Nothing severe, but enough to set Fyodor’s teeth on edge. He hates
And if the devil came up and offered to buy his soul, Chuuya would say he already found heaven.
——— +
There’s a knock on the door. Late, by seven minutes. Nothing severe, but enough to set Fyodor’s teeth on edge. He hates
when people are late, especially his direct subordinates.
This /is/ still a business, even if it deals in blood and violence and substances. Fyodor would even go as far to say that underground organizations are a /purer/ form of businesses.
Aboveground, they deal in /money/.
This /is/ still a business, even if it deals in blood and violence and substances. Fyodor would even go as far to say that underground organizations are a /purer/ form of businesses.
Aboveground, they deal in /money/.
Easily corruptible, easily taken advantage of, and despite everything, the same concept of what goes on far below the reach of the justice system.
Sell parts of your life to the people above you. Fight tooth and nail to survive. Complete projects you will never reap the benefits
Sell parts of your life to the people above you. Fight tooth and nail to survive. Complete projects you will never reap the benefits
of. Live and die by the command of others.
It’s just business.
“Come in,” he calls, taking a long drag of his cigar. It’s been a long day. Productive, but very long, and there’s a slight headache pulsing at his temples.
Alexei better have good news for him right now, or he
It’s just business.
“Come in,” he calls, taking a long drag of his cigar. It’s been a long day. Productive, but very long, and there’s a slight headache pulsing at his temples.
Alexei better have good news for him right now, or he
might just end up on the wrong side of his dagger, with the way he’s feeling now.
The door to his office and Alexei slides in. He’s a slim, short thing, unremarkable in voice or posture or build. He blends in perfectly to almost any situation he’s put into, with a skill that’s
The door to his office and Alexei slides in. He’s a slim, short thing, unremarkable in voice or posture or build. He blends in perfectly to almost any situation he’s put into, with a skill that’s
been painstakingly trained into him.
People like Alexei are incredibly valuable to organizations like Fyodor’s.
Because you never notice people like him in a /crowd/.
“Boss,” the man says gruffly, accent slipping through slightly. “Got those pictures you wanted.”
People like Alexei are incredibly valuable to organizations like Fyodor’s.
Because you never notice people like him in a /crowd/.
“Boss,” the man says gruffly, accent slipping through slightly. “Got those pictures you wanted.”
Fyodor’s smile widens. The job was low-hanging fruit then, apparently, because Alexei had only been assigned two days ago. Usually it takes him a week or more, and Fyodor was /prepared/ to wait, as long as he needed to—
But sometimes, jobs are easy.
He holds his hand out for
But sometimes, jobs are easy.
He holds his hand out for
the little envelope Alexei has in his hands. After a few quick steps, it’s being dropped into his palm.
It’s heavy, thick. Assumingly worth every penny Fyodor has paid Alexei for— the man /never/ under-delivers or disappoints, which is part of why he’s survived in this business
It’s heavy, thick. Assumingly worth every penny Fyodor has paid Alexei for— the man /never/ under-delivers or disappoints, which is part of why he’s survived in this business
for so long.
The trick is to make yourself invaluable.
“Leave,” Fyodor tells him without looking at him, “I’ll speak to you later.”
Alexei ducks his head a little, retreating without another word. His black hair covers his eyes easily, and while his gaze is strong and
The trick is to make yourself invaluable.
“Leave,” Fyodor tells him without looking at him, “I’ll speak to you later.”
Alexei ducks his head a little, retreating without another word. His black hair covers his eyes easily, and while his gaze is strong and
sure, it’s also deferential.
Fyodor likes him. He speaks only as much as necessary, and shows respect first and foremost.
It’s the old Russian blood. Priceless stuff, that, in these days.
Carefully, he rips open the top of the envelope and lets the stack of photos slide out.
Fyodor likes him. He speaks only as much as necessary, and shows respect first and foremost.
It’s the old Russian blood. Priceless stuff, that, in these days.
Carefully, he rips open the top of the envelope and lets the stack of photos slide out.
And as /always/—
They’re good work.
Different still frames of a tiny redhead in different frames. Laughing at a cafe. Walking across the college campus. A few blurry ones through the window of his dorm. One of him disappearing into the men’s shower room.
Different angles of
They’re good work.
Different still frames of a tiny redhead in different frames. Laughing at a cafe. Walking across the college campus. A few blurry ones through the window of his dorm. One of him disappearing into the men’s shower room.
Different angles of
his face and body, so he can be recognized from any angle in most lighting.
And the /prize/?
A tall, dark figure leaning against a car, draped over said tiny redhead with a pliancy that can only speak of /relief/. Large hands on a small face, tilting his head up for a kiss.
And the /prize/?
A tall, dark figure leaning against a car, draped over said tiny redhead with a pliancy that can only speak of /relief/. Large hands on a small face, tilting his head up for a kiss.
If it were plain fascination, Fyodor would understand. Hell, he might not even look at it too closely, if it were just that.
Nakahara Chuuya is appealing in a new, exotic sort of way. He’s Japanese—as far as he can find, at least— but the red hair and the blue eyes are
Nakahara Chuuya is appealing in a new, exotic sort of way. He’s Japanese—as far as he can find, at least— but the red hair and the blue eyes are
uncommon. The liberal spray of freckles over his cheeks are adorable.
Quite simply, Nakahara is someone you sleep with because it feels like an accomplishment to do so. He’s pretty, he’s young, he’s innocent, he’s naïve, he doesn’t look like a lot of ordinary people.
All
Quite simply, Nakahara is someone you sleep with because it feels like an accomplishment to do so. He’s pretty, he’s young, he’s innocent, he’s naïve, he doesn’t look like a lot of ordinary people.
All
those added together would make it /tempting/ for a man like Dazai. Someone who revels in sexual deviation, in /dominance/, in finding sweet, unsuspecting men and women and dragging them with him in his constant search for pleasure.
Fyodor gets it. He’d fuck Nakahara too.
Fyodor gets it. He’d fuck Nakahara too.
Might still, just to prove a point.
But this is /not/ fascination. This is affection. This is taking your lover on a week-long vacation to Osaka.
This is showing up, looking spent and exhausted, and taking /comfort/ in him.
This is love, sick and potent and corrupting.
But this is /not/ fascination. This is affection. This is taking your lover on a week-long vacation to Osaka.
This is showing up, looking spent and exhausted, and taking /comfort/ in him.
This is love, sick and potent and corrupting.
He’s under no illusions—
Love can be a powerful thing. A bridge between two people, tying them together and forming new alliances. Marriage is a powerful took, when used in the right hands.
But love, between a washed-up ex-mafia brat and a college student? It’s laughable.
Love can be a powerful thing. A bridge between two people, tying them together and forming new alliances. Marriage is a powerful took, when used in the right hands.
But love, between a washed-up ex-mafia brat and a college student? It’s laughable.
Pitiful, too, that just a pair of baby-blue eyes were enough to drag the demon back to earth.
And in this scenario, /love/ is a vulnerability.
Fyodor knows about Dazai’s son. Doesn’t know anything about him, because he’s been /irritatingly/ stringent on making sure the kid’s
And in this scenario, /love/ is a vulnerability.
Fyodor knows about Dazai’s son. Doesn’t know anything about him, because he’s been /irritatingly/ stringent on making sure the kid’s
entire record is so buried and sealed that not even he can find it.
But now he has something /better/, gift-wrapped to him directly.
He might not know much about Nakahara’s records— his hackers have yet to dig up anything interesting, which is interesting in itself— but he
But now he has something /better/, gift-wrapped to him directly.
He might not know much about Nakahara’s records— his hackers have yet to dig up anything interesting, which is interesting in itself— but he
doesn’t need to know those things now.
He doesn’t need to know who his family is, or where he went to school, or his potential criminal record. He has something /better/ than all of that combined.
He has a dorm room number, and a man on the inside. It’s practically fate.
He doesn’t need to know who his family is, or where he went to school, or his potential criminal record. He has something /better/ than all of that combined.
He has a dorm room number, and a man on the inside. It’s practically fate.
He picks up one of the photos, one that showcases Dazai from the front. Nakahara is small enough that he doesn’t cover Dazai’s frame at all.
“You look tired, old friend,” Fyodor murmurs, brushing his thumb over the picture. The dark bags under his eyes have never been more
“You look tired, old friend,” Fyodor murmurs, brushing his thumb over the picture. The dark bags under his eyes have never been more
pronounced, and his face is pale and drawn. Exhaustion is an old enemy for both of them, but it seems that Dazai is finally beginning to crack under the strain. “I think it’s time for you to retire.”
Dazai from even a year ago was more observant and cautious than this. He
Dazai from even a year ago was more observant and cautious than this. He
never would’ve been caught off guard in public, and especially not with someone he was attached to.
It seems that old dogs do forget old tricks, and Fyodor is happy to remind him.
Love makes you stupid, and sometimes it’s not /you/ who pays the price for your mistakes.
——-+
It seems that old dogs do forget old tricks, and Fyodor is happy to remind him.
Love makes you stupid, and sometimes it’s not /you/ who pays the price for your mistakes.
——-+
Chuuya wakes up /heavy/. The feeling of his body limp and unresponsive with sleep, grounded and warm. He can feel his limbs, somewhere, but mostly he just feels like swimming through warmth as he slowly comes back to the waking world.
Or maybe all that heavy warmth is coming
Or maybe all that heavy warmth is coming
from the fact that Dazai is still draped over top of him, forehead nestled in the crook of his shoulder and neck. His arms are tight around him, hugging him close in his sleep like a teddy bear.
Yoko has found Chuuya’s right leg, the one that managed to escape Dazai’s
Yoko has found Chuuya’s right leg, the one that managed to escape Dazai’s
octopus hold, and has claimed it for herself. She’s using his foot as a headrest and the weight of her chest on his calf is making his foot go numb.
How is Chuuya the smallest person in this bed, and yet has become the community body pillow? Not that he /minds/, he likes the
How is Chuuya the smallest person in this bed, and yet has become the community body pillow? Not that he /minds/, he likes the
grounding weight on top of him but—
His feet are numb. Dead numb.
And he’s the only one awake, because Yoko is making little doggy-dreaming sounds, and Dazai’s breaths are deep and rhythmic, washing over his collarbone in warm, steady waves.
He doesn’t know what time it is.
His feet are numb. Dead numb.
And he’s the only one awake, because Yoko is making little doggy-dreaming sounds, and Dazai’s breaths are deep and rhythmic, washing over his collarbone in warm, steady waves.
He doesn’t know what time it is.
it doesn’t really matter anyways, because he doesn’t have anything to do until later this evening. Dazai didn’t mention anything either, so they’re free to sleep in.
Chuuya /would/ go back to sleep too, but there’s only one problem—
Dazai is /heavy/ on top of him, and he
Chuuya /would/ go back to sleep too, but there’s only one problem—
Dazai is /heavy/ on top of him, and he
didnt notice when he was falling asleep and obviously not when he was sleeping but—
It’s /work/ to breathe while being crushed underneath him. He can feel the muscles in his chest and ribs straining to lift the weight, and he can already tell that he’s going to be sore later.
It’s /work/ to breathe while being crushed underneath him. He can feel the muscles in his chest and ribs straining to lift the weight, and he can already tell that he’s going to be sore later.
In other news—
The ache that had taken up residence in his thighs, hips and lower back seems to have faded away almost completely. He can barely even feel a twinge when he raises his arms above his head and arches his back for a nice stretch.
Sensing his movement, Dazai
The ache that had taken up residence in his thighs, hips and lower back seems to have faded away almost completely. He can barely even feel a twinge when he raises his arms above his head and arches his back for a nice stretch.
Sensing his movement, Dazai
burrows in closer, lips moving over his skin in a sleepy mumble that’s too low to hear.
Before they started sleeping together—/actually/ sleeping together— he never would’ve thought that Dazai would be a grumpy morning person—
But he is, he /absolutely/ is, and that grumpy,
Before they started sleeping together—/actually/ sleeping together— he never would’ve thought that Dazai would be a grumpy morning person—
But he is, he /absolutely/ is, and that grumpy,
quiet grumble he always gives is /so/ endearing.
His hands wind up in Dazai’s hair, tugging on the strands lightly as he runs his fingers through it. It’s wild, and it’s starting to grow out again. The strands stick up for a moment when he brushes them out before falling under
His hands wind up in Dazai’s hair, tugging on the strands lightly as he runs his fingers through it. It’s wild, and it’s starting to grow out again. The strands stick up for a moment when he brushes them out before falling under
their own weight. The undercut at the back is more of a fuzzy shave now, and could use a trim.
Or maybe he’s growing it out? Chuuya tries to imagine what that’d look like, Dazai’s face with his hair curving around his cheeks or brushing against his shoulders.
He wants to see
Or maybe he’s growing it out? Chuuya tries to imagine what that’d look like, Dazai’s face with his hair curving around his cheeks or brushing against his shoulders.
He wants to see
what that looks like. He likes the idea of being with Dazai long enough to watch his hair grow out.
It’s the simple changes that make his heart feel the warmest.
“Dazai,” he murmurs, tugging a little harder.
“No,” Dazai grumbles, nuzzling closer like he can avoid being
It’s the simple changes that make his heart feel the warmest.
“Dazai,” he murmurs, tugging a little harder.
“No,” Dazai grumbles, nuzzling closer like he can avoid being
woken up if he just refuses to let go or move. He mumbles something else, too low to hear except for the last bit: “‘m sleepy.”
Smiling fondly, Chuuya tugs on his hair again, trying to get his nose away from his neck. “You don’t have to get up, you just have to get off me.”
Smiling fondly, Chuuya tugs on his hair again, trying to get his nose away from his neck. “You don’t have to get up, you just have to get off me.”
“Comfy,” he whines in return.
“I /know/ you’re comfy, but you’re hurting me.”
It’s only a little bit of a lie. It’s more of an ache, and something Chuuya could deal with if he needed to.
Apparently that’s all he needed to say, because the next thing he knows, Dazai is rolling
“I /know/ you’re comfy, but you’re hurting me.”
It’s only a little bit of a lie. It’s more of an ache, and something Chuuya could deal with if he needed to.
Apparently that’s all he needed to say, because the next thing he knows, Dazai is rolling
over onto his back and dragging him with.
Yoko makes a startled noise, sitting up to look around in confusion as to why her pillow was stolen out from underneath her. The fur on one side of her face is flattened, while the other side is rumpled and sticking out in odd places.
Yoko makes a startled noise, sitting up to look around in confusion as to why her pillow was stolen out from underneath her. The fur on one side of her face is flattened, while the other side is rumpled and sticking out in odd places.
She looks like she has bedhead, funnily enough, nearly a match to the look Dazai has on.
When she sees it’s just them, she yawns with a high-pitched sound of irritation. She stands up to stretch, first pressing her chest to the bed then her back legs one at a time.
She jumps
When she sees it’s just them, she yawns with a high-pitched sound of irritation. She stands up to stretch, first pressing her chest to the bed then her back legs one at a time.
She jumps
off the bed then, and trots out of the room. Chuuya can hear Kozo getting up to follow her— he’s strangely resistant to sleeping on the bed and prefers to sleep in front of the door— and a few moments later, the sound of their feet on the stairs echoes from outside the room.
Without the weight on his legs, feeling is quickly returning to his feet. He flexes his ankles absently, rubbing his toes against Dazai’s shins.
With his face turned into the pillow and once again breathing peacefully, Dazai doesn’t stir. He looks asleep again, not that Chuuya
With his face turned into the pillow and once again breathing peacefully, Dazai doesn’t stir. He looks asleep again, not that Chuuya
can blame him. By the time they’d fallen into bed, the poor man looked like he passed out instead of going to sleep.
Of course, that means Chuuya is finally free to admire him without him interfering. When he’s awake he’s /annoyingly/ teasing, and if he sees Chuuya looking
Of course, that means Chuuya is finally free to admire him without him interfering. When he’s awake he’s /annoyingly/ teasing, and if he sees Chuuya looking
at him, he /will/ tease him until he’s blushing and looking away.
Or tease him until he’s practically crying with the need to orgasm, but that’s almost as bad. Just more enjoyable.
Now that he’s /asleep/ though...
Chuuya can just drink him in.
Slowly, he pulls himself to
Or tease him until he’s practically crying with the need to orgasm, but that’s almost as bad. Just more enjoyable.
Now that he’s /asleep/ though...
Chuuya can just drink him in.
Slowly, he pulls himself to
a sitting position with his legs tucked under him, balanced over Dazai's hips.
Dazai fell asleep without a shirt on, and with a little coaxing, Chuuya had managed to persuade him to take off the bandages, leaving him completely bare to his gaze.
His belly, strong and cut with
Dazai fell asleep without a shirt on, and with a little coaxing, Chuuya had managed to persuade him to take off the bandages, leaving him completely bare to his gaze.
His belly, strong and cut with
muscle, rises and falls with his every rhythmic breath. Above that, the gradual swell of pectoral muscles that lead nicely into mouth-wateringly defined shoulders and biceps.
On one side, the red and blue koi fish chase each other endlessly over the planes of his chest, sakura
On one side, the red and blue koi fish chase each other endlessly over the planes of his chest, sakura
petals falling like a river down the curve of his shoulder and arm. It's graceful, and with the slow, subtle movement of his body, it almost looks like a flowing river.
Now that he can take a moment to look closer without making Dazai edgy or nervous, he can find a few stretch
Now that he can take a moment to look closer without making Dazai edgy or nervous, he can find a few stretch
marks and places where the ink looks oddly thin. Like it was done when he was young, and he's grown into it.
"Taking advantage of me when I'm sleeping and unaware, are you?"
Startled, Chuuya flinches a little. His eyes dart up, catching on the small smirk curving Dazai's lips.
"Taking advantage of me when I'm sleeping and unaware, are you?"
Startled, Chuuya flinches a little. His eyes dart up, catching on the small smirk curving Dazai's lips.
His eyes are still closed though, and the rest of his face is impassive. If Chuuya hadn't heard him speak, then he would've assumed he was still sleeping.
Scowling, he flicks at his stomach. "I'm just /looking/ at you, don't make it weird."
That earns him a huff of amusement.
Scowling, he flicks at his stomach. "I'm just /looking/ at you, don't make it weird."
That earns him a huff of amusement.
His eyebrow arches, and his smirk widens but his eyes still don't open. "And do you /like/ what you see?"
/Yes/, in every aspect, from the well-cut build of his body to the snarky, charming personality hidden away in the teasing curl of his lips.
Licking his lips, Chuuya places
/Yes/, in every aspect, from the well-cut build of his body to the snarky, charming personality hidden away in the teasing curl of his lips.
Licking his lips, Chuuya places
a hand on his stomach. He pushes up, letting his fingers follow every dip and bump of his body, tracing his way up. The way he tenses up slightly, abs flexing, makes satisfaction curl through his stomach.
"Yes," he admits, voice low. His hand slides over his ribs, following
"Yes," he admits, voice low. His hand slides over his ribs, following
the line of muscle over his side. It expands under his touch with another breath, intoxicating.
Finally, Dazai's head turns and his eyes crack open slightly, revealing those caramel-brown eyes Chuuya finds himself so fixated by. They're dark now, like coffee, drawing him in
Finally, Dazai's head turns and his eyes crack open slightly, revealing those caramel-brown eyes Chuuya finds himself so fixated by. They're dark now, like coffee, drawing him in
closer so he can pick out the flecks of green and gold inside them.
"And what are you going to do about it, doll?"
Incensed by the teasing, inviting tone and the nickname he hasn't heard in /so/ long, Chuuya lurches forward to kiss him.
The first press of their lips together
"And what are you going to do about it, doll?"
Incensed by the teasing, inviting tone and the nickname he hasn't heard in /so/ long, Chuuya lurches forward to kiss him.
The first press of their lips together
is rough, hard enough that Chuuya's teeth press painfully into his lips--
But then he adjusts, planting a hand near Dazai's side to take his weight, and tips his head to better the angle.
The /next/ kiss is much better, and maybe it's because of the lingering emotional release
But then he adjusts, planting a hand near Dazai's side to take his weight, and tips his head to better the angle.
The /next/ kiss is much better, and maybe it's because of the lingering emotional release
from the day before, or simply just how warm and heavy and indulgent everything feels right now, but this kiss isn't as rushed as it usually tends to be.
It's deep, yes, with Dazai's tongue sliding into his mouth to scrape the metal ball of his piercing along the insides of his
It's deep, yes, with Dazai's tongue sliding into his mouth to scrape the metal ball of his piercing along the insides of his
teeth. Chuuya takes his turn to pull Dazai's lower lip into his mouth until he can feel the rush of air escaping him in a breathy hush, tinged with the faintest of groans.
Underneath him, Dazai's hips press upward. Not a /thrust/, but a mindless, instinctive need to seek out
Underneath him, Dazai's hips press upward. Not a /thrust/, but a mindless, instinctive need to seek out
pressure on his growing erection. The heat of him pressed against the curve of his ass, separated only by the thin barriers of Dazai's sweats and Chuuya's underwear, is too tempting to ignore.
He slides to the slide, kissing the corner of his mouth and making his way down to his
He slides to the slide, kissing the corner of his mouth and making his way down to his
sharp jaw. Dazai lets him, tipping his head back to give him better access to his neck.
There's a spot, just under the hinge of his jaw, that pulls out a low groan when Chuuya's teeth sink into it. The sound makes excitement thrill through him, so he sucks on that spot /hard/,
There's a spot, just under the hinge of his jaw, that pulls out a low groan when Chuuya's teeth sink into it. The sound makes excitement thrill through him, so he sucks on that spot /hard/,
until he can feel his pulse throbbing underneath his tongue.
Hands find his knees, creeping upwards in a slow sweep of appreciation. Fingertips linger over the rising goosebumps, finding every sensitive spot and teasing it lightly with the barest brush of nails. Every inch
Hands find his knees, creeping upwards in a slow sweep of appreciation. Fingertips linger over the rising goosebumps, finding every sensitive spot and teasing it lightly with the barest brush of nails. Every inch
gained feels like it leaves flames behind, drawing his skin tight with sensitivity.
He moves down, biting marks over Dazai's Adam's apple and around the base of his neck. He finally understands /why/ Dazai has always spent so much time marking him up with his mouth, because the
He moves down, biting marks over Dazai's Adam's apple and around the base of his neck. He finally understands /why/ Dazai has always spent so much time marking him up with his mouth, because the
satisfaction that wells up inside him when he pulls back to see the red, wet mark blooming on Dazai's skin--
It's /raw/, primal.Fills him with the hunger for /more/. More marks, more skin, more touch, more pleasure, more, more, /more/.
Dazai's hands coast over his hips, fingers
It's /raw/, primal.Fills him with the hunger for /more/. More marks, more skin, more touch, more pleasure, more, more, /more/.
Dazai's hands coast over his hips, fingers
curling around the width of them and digging in. He drags him down, encouraging a slow, forceful rock of his hips that drags his ass along the length of the growing erection beneath him.
Chuuya's next breath is hitched, eyelids fluttering. The friction is good, but the /promise/
Chuuya's next breath is hitched, eyelids fluttering. The friction is good, but the /promise/
behind it is what really sets him off.
He knows what it feels like inside him, turning his brain to mush and overloading his system with pleasure, and he wants it /again/.
Just a little different this time, because--
Dazai is warm and solid beneath him, Chuuya is on fire with
He knows what it feels like inside him, turning his brain to mush and overloading his system with pleasure, and he wants it /again/.
Just a little different this time, because--
Dazai is warm and solid beneath him, Chuuya is on fire with
need and anticipation, and he's /finally/ got the upper hand.
"Lube," he mutters into Dazai's collarbone, biting down hard until he gets a sharp hiss in return.
In retaliation, his hips buck underneath him, nearly unseating him. It also makes his own erection, trapped still by
"Lube," he mutters into Dazai's collarbone, biting down hard until he gets a sharp hiss in return.
In retaliation, his hips buck underneath him, nearly unseating him. It also makes his own erection, trapped still by
his underwear, drag against Dazai's lower belly.
"Impatient," he hears from above him, which is directly contrasted by the way one of Dazai's hands lets go of his hip to dig through the small nightstand to his left.
At least he doesn't have to go searching through the drawers
"Impatient," he hears from above him, which is directly contrasted by the way one of Dazai's hands lets go of his hip to dig through the small nightstand to his left.
At least he doesn't have to go searching through the drawers
underneath the bed, because Chuuya wouldn't give up his spot for the world. There's something satisfying about having someone so big and dominating underneath you, like turning the tables on them and taking control instead.
Naturally, he likes being /under/ Dazai too, but he's
Naturally, he likes being /under/ Dazai too, but he's
enjoying the privilege of taking his /time/, and move at his own pace.
Usually, he's frantic with lust, vibrating with the need for Dazai to touch him /harder, faster, more/, and he rarely gets to /appreciate/ the beautiful stretch of skin underneath him like this, rarely gets
Usually, he's frantic with lust, vibrating with the need for Dazai to touch him /harder, faster, more/, and he rarely gets to /appreciate/ the beautiful stretch of skin underneath him like this, rarely gets
to mark him up with his teeth and tongue, rarely gets to grind against exactly how /he/ wants.
Maybe he's high on the power of it, because when Dazai's hand comes back with a lube bottle, he's snatching it out of his palm before he can even crack the top on it.
He's never done
Maybe he's high on the power of it, because when Dazai's hand comes back with a lube bottle, he's snatching it out of his palm before he can even crack the top on it.
He's never done
this to himself /but/ he's had Dazai's fingers inside him enough times that he's confident he'll be able to figure it out.
"You really /are/ impatient," Dazai teases, hands pushing up the hem of his shirt. It's one of Dazai's, much too big on him.
Neither of them want to take
"You really /are/ impatient," Dazai teases, hands pushing up the hem of his shirt. It's one of Dazai's, much too big on him.
Neither of them want to take
that particular piece of clothing off, but Chuuya's underwear /has/ to go.
"I just want to help," he croons temptingly, dipping his fingers into the waistband and starting to drag it down. "Don't you want me to do it?"
Chuuya /almost/ gives in, especially when his hands slide
"I just want to help," he croons temptingly, dipping his fingers into the waistband and starting to drag it down. "Don't you want me to do it?"
Chuuya /almost/ gives in, especially when his hands slide
over his ass and /squeeze/, long fingers nearly able to grab an entire cheek with each hand--
"No," he mutters crossly, biting his chest again because he /knows/ what Dazai is doing. Trying to distract him and take charge again. "I'm taking care of /you/ this time."
"No," he mutters crossly, biting his chest again because he /knows/ what Dazai is doing. Trying to distract him and take charge again. "I'm taking care of /you/ this time."
(That makes Dazai pause for a moment, a little confused because--
For a second he thinks he means he wants to fuck /him/, which, don't get him wrong, he's bottomed before and liked it, it's just not really his thing and he's not feeling up for teaching a virgin how to fuck him
For a second he thinks he means he wants to fuck /him/, which, don't get him wrong, he's bottomed before and liked it, it's just not really his thing and he's not feeling up for teaching a virgin how to fuck him
this morning, especially when he's still so tired--
But then Chuuya squirts lube onto his fingers and brings them around to his own ass, and it starts to click.
He wants to be in /charge/. He wants to do the work himself, while Dazai just lays here and enjoys it.
Cute.
But then Chuuya squirts lube onto his fingers and brings them around to his own ass, and it starts to click.
He wants to be in /charge/. He wants to do the work himself, while Dazai just lays here and enjoys it.
Cute.
Surprisingly sweet too, because even though Dazai absolutely would not mind flipping them over and pressing him down into the mattress, there /is/ still a lingering exhaustion in his mind and his body, like a phantom ache.
He could ignore it if he wanted but--
The view /is/
He could ignore it if he wanted but--
The view /is/
nice though, as Chuuya sits back a little to work his fingers into himself so--
Why /not/ enjoy it?)
Chuuya is quickly realizing that being fingered is a /much/ different experience than doing it to himself.
First off, the angle is awkward enough that it puts strain on his
Why /not/ enjoy it?)
Chuuya is quickly realizing that being fingered is a /much/ different experience than doing it to himself.
First off, the angle is awkward enough that it puts strain on his
wrist and limits his movements. If he's not careful, he could give himself a cramp that would be /embarrassing/, because he thinks he's pulling off the whole smooth, suave, seductive thing very well right now, and he doesn't want to ruin that.
His fingers /are/ quite a bit
His fingers /are/ quite a bit
shorter and thinner than Dazai's, which creates frustration inside him because he's gotten used to the /stretch/ and the feeling of Dazai attacking his prostate until he's mindless from it, and he can't /do/ that to himself, his fingers just aren't long enough and he doesn't
know where that spot is.
It does, however, allow him to open himself much quicker than Dazai usually takes. Dazai likes to take his time and tease him until the next addition barely even causes a stretch, and Chuuya /likes/ that but--
Now he's on top, sitting on his bulge and
It does, however, allow him to open himself much quicker than Dazai usually takes. Dazai likes to take his time and tease him until the next addition barely even causes a stretch, and Chuuya /likes/ that but--
Now he's on top, sitting on his bulge and
wanting it so bad he doesn't /want/ to wait. Doesn't want to draw out the process for as long as possible, he wants to be fucked and he wants it /now/.
It doesn't take long for him to work his way up from one finger to two to three. At that point, the most he can do is awkward
It doesn't take long for him to work his way up from one finger to two to three. At that point, the most he can do is awkward
flexes of his wrist and fumblingly trying to spread his fingers inside him, because he /knows/ that if he doesn't open himself up properly and it looks like he might be hurting himself, then Dazai will put a stop to it.
Of course, Dazai /isn't/ helping him at all. His hands are
Of course, Dazai /isn't/ helping him at all. His hands are
coasting over him in long sweeps, finding every sensitive spot and brushing lightly over it with /teasing/ fingers, building his anticipation up, up, /up/.
There's a point, too, when Dazai is unbuttoning his shirt-- not brushing it off, but just opening it so he can explore his
There's a point, too, when Dazai is unbuttoning his shirt-- not brushing it off, but just opening it so he can explore his
chest and play with his nipples until Chuuya is panting and arching into the tight pleasure-- that Dazai murmurs, "Come on, baby, you're going to need more than three to take /me/."
And that, the reminder of how /big/ he is, how completely he fills him up, how Chuuya feels like
And that, the reminder of how /big/ he is, how completely he fills him up, how Chuuya feels like
he's overflowing and bursting with pleasure and heat and ecstasy whenever Dazai is with him,over him,/in/ him--
His body clenches down at the reminder, contracting hard.
Licking his lips again, he leans back farther, reaching back with his free hand to brace himself on Dazai's
His body clenches down at the reminder, contracting hard.
Licking his lips again, he leans back farther, reaching back with his free hand to brace himself on Dazai's
thigh. That settles his weight deeper in his lap, and the heated outline of his erection presses against him hard. He rocks against it absently, twisting his wrist to add his pinkie finger.
It also gives Dazai access to his entire front, which he /eagerly/ takes advantage of.
It also gives Dazai access to his entire front, which he /eagerly/ takes advantage of.
One hand palms his chest, tweaking his nipple until it almost hurts, pleasure tight and coiling in his belly. The other drifts over his stomach, admiring the flexing muscles, as he works his way /down/--
His underwear is still trapped around his upper thighs, both of them too
His underwear is still trapped around his upper thighs, both of them too
impatient to properly pull them off before getting started.
That doesn't stop Dazai's hand from dipping inside and wrapping around his erection to pull it out. The friction is mostly dry, and the slow stroke Dazai gives him is /rough/, but the attention is /so/ good, finally
That doesn't stop Dazai's hand from dipping inside and wrapping around his erection to pull it out. The friction is mostly dry, and the slow stroke Dazai gives him is /rough/, but the attention is /so/ good, finally
a taste of what he needs, and it just builds the desperation higher, hotter.
“I’m ready,” Chuuya pants, spreading his fingers inside himself one last time. His body is so eager for touch that his muscles melt into the pressure.
Pulling his fingers out, he shuffles to get his
“I’m ready,” Chuuya pants, spreading his fingers inside himself one last time. His body is so eager for touch that his muscles melt into the pressure.
Pulling his fingers out, he shuffles to get his
his underwear off completely. He goes to shrug off the shirt, only to have Dazai’s fingers tighten around his hips.
“Leave it on,” he murmurs, tugging it back into place. It’s massive on him, the hem falling below mid-thigh, but it’s not restrictive or limits his movements, so—
“Leave it on,” he murmurs, tugging it back into place. It’s massive on him, the hem falling below mid-thigh, but it’s not restrictive or limits his movements, so—
He leaves it on. Partly because of the way he feels in it, cute and small and /sexy/. Partly because Dazai looks like he might devour him in it.
Dazai steals the lube back from him while he’s distracted, and pours a decent amount into his own palm. He slicks himself up with
Dazai steals the lube back from him while he’s distracted, and pours a decent amount into his own palm. He slicks himself up with
quick motions, sighing pleasantly from the friction and the quick dose of pleasure.
Impatience rises quickly, and as soon as Chuuya sees that he’s wet enough, he’s knocking his hand out of the way and climbing back into place.
Dazai raises an eyebrow at his audacity, but
Impatience rises quickly, and as soon as Chuuya sees that he’s wet enough, he’s knocking his hand out of the way and climbing back into place.
Dazai raises an eyebrow at his audacity, but
he doesn’t say anything.
(Not yet, at least. As always, Chuuya will pay for being a brat /later/, but he hasn’t internalized that lesson yet.
For now he’s just—.)
Impossibly, Dazai’s cock feels /bigger/ from this angle. The head slides wetly between his asscheeks, sliding
(Not yet, at least. As always, Chuuya will pay for being a brat /later/, but he hasn’t internalized that lesson yet.
For now he’s just—.)
Impossibly, Dazai’s cock feels /bigger/ from this angle. The head slides wetly between his asscheeks, sliding
over his entrance but not pressing in.
Arching his back to reach under him to line Dazai up is /hard/, and he’s hoping Dazai will take some mercy on him and help but—
He doesn’t. He just watches, mouth curled into a smug look and clean hand tucked beneath his head in the
Arching his back to reach under him to line Dazai up is /hard/, and he’s hoping Dazai will take some mercy on him and help but—
He doesn’t. He just watches, mouth curled into a smug look and clean hand tucked beneath his head in the
very picture of self-satisfaction. His expression says ‘you said you wanted to be the one to do it— so do it.’
After a few tries that end up with Dazai’s cock glancing off his hole and sliding between his ass, Chuuya /finally/ finds the right angle and begins to sink down.
After a few tries that end up with Dazai’s cock glancing off his hole and sliding between his ass, Chuuya /finally/ finds the right angle and begins to sink down.
And—
He made /miscalculations/.
For one, his fingers aren’t /nearly/ the same width or stretch as Dazai’s, so even though he used /four/, all the way to the knuckles, there’s still a burning, aching stretch that makes him have to fight for every inch he sinks down.
For
He made /miscalculations/.
For one, his fingers aren’t /nearly/ the same width or stretch as Dazai’s, so even though he used /four/, all the way to the knuckles, there’s still a burning, aching stretch that makes him have to fight for every inch he sinks down.
For
another, he can actually see Dazai's expression clearly from this angle, and /god/, it looks so good he wants to stare at it /forever/. Eyes dilating, going half-lidded, devilish pools of black tar that drink in the sight of him as he lowers himself agonizingly slowly.
Lips
Lips
parted on a soft groan, shiny and wet, the hint of teeth behind them.
A slight flush growing on his cheeks, dusting his cheekbones and nose with shades of pink, his nostrils flaring. Jaw clenched as he fights the urge to thrust /up/, letting Chuuya take his time to work himself
A slight flush growing on his cheeks, dusting his cheekbones and nose with shades of pink, his nostrils flaring. Jaw clenched as he fights the urge to thrust /up/, letting Chuuya take his time to work himself
down in short strokes.
And /fuck/, he's so big. Big enough that it feels like it's carving out space in his insides,big enough that he swears he can /taste/ him in the back of his throat,big enough that /every/ sensitive spot gets pressed against mercilessly, driving him /wild/.
And /fuck/, he's so big. Big enough that it feels like it's carving out space in his insides,big enough that he swears he can /taste/ him in the back of his throat,big enough that /every/ sensitive spot gets pressed against mercilessly, driving him /wild/.
His head falls back on a moan, swallowing hard as he fights the urge to /chase/ that sensation recklessly, to drop down the rest of the way down in one quick slide, wondering deliriously--
Is it /always/ going to feel this big? Feel this /good/? Is he always going to feel like
Is it /always/ going to feel this big? Feel this /good/? Is he always going to feel like
his mind is melting under the pressure?
He swears he can feel every bump and ridge of his cock as he settles downward, feel it throbbing inside him.
By the time his ass comes to rest against Dazai's hips, taking a deep breath feels impossible. Oxygen is like fire to his blood,
He swears he can feel every bump and ridge of his cock as he settles downward, feel it throbbing inside him.
By the time his ass comes to rest against Dazai's hips, taking a deep breath feels impossible. Oxygen is like fire to his blood,
molten lava in his veins and pumping through his pounding heart.
"God," he chokes out, shuddering when every shift of his body makes Dazai's cock move slightly inside him. Electricity crackles along his nerves, flaring higher with each tiny movement.
"Mm," Dazai hums, and
"God," he chokes out, shuddering when every shift of his body makes Dazai's cock move slightly inside him. Electricity crackles along his nerves, flaring higher with each tiny movement.
"Mm," Dazai hums, and
he can already /tell/ he's about to say something /stupid/--
"I prefer Daddy, but you can call me that if you want."
Yep, there it is.
He's glad his face is tipped towards the ceiling, because he can't help the small smile in response but he doesn't want Dazai to know he
"I prefer Daddy, but you can call me that if you want."
Yep, there it is.
He's glad his face is tipped towards the ceiling, because he can't help the small smile in response but he doesn't want Dazai to know he
found that even a /little/ bit funny.
Leaning back, he braces himself again on Dazai's thigh. His leg is strong and solid beneath him, packed with muscle, and providing an /excellent/ base for him to work off of. The angle tips his hips backwards, and now the ridge on the
Leaning back, he braces himself again on Dazai's thigh. His leg is strong and solid beneath him, packed with muscle, and providing an /excellent/ base for him to work off of. The angle tips his hips backwards, and now the ridge on the
underside of his cock is pressing /relentlessly/ against his prostate.
"Fuck you," Chuuya responds, not even a little bit ashamed of how breathy his voice is, or the tinge of amusement in it.
Dazai's hips flex, burying himself a centimeter deeper in a quick, sudden movement
"Fuck you," Chuuya responds, not even a little bit ashamed of how breathy his voice is, or the tinge of amusement in it.
Dazai's hips flex, burying himself a centimeter deeper in a quick, sudden movement
that has his breath stalling out in his chest. "Baby, I think it's the other way around."
Well--
He has a point there.
Deciding he's had /quite/ enough of conversation, Chuuya rocks his hips, testing the slide. There's enough lube between them that everything is slick and wet,
Well--
He has a point there.
Deciding he's had /quite/ enough of conversation, Chuuya rocks his hips, testing the slide. There's enough lube between them that everything is slick and wet,
satisfying a primal, animal part of him.
Dazai slides out an inch, presses back /in/ on the rock down, his cock hitting his every sensitive spot. Heat rockets through Chuuya, intoxicating and addicting, prompting him to rock his hips /again/.
Pleasure builds slowly, coiling
Dazai slides out an inch, presses back /in/ on the rock down, his cock hitting his every sensitive spot. Heat rockets through Chuuya, intoxicating and addicting, prompting him to rock his hips /again/.
Pleasure builds slowly, coiling
around the base of his spine and tightening with every rock of his hips. It satisfies his desire, only to relight a deeper, more irresistible desire for /more/.
It never feels like he's going to get enough. He could do this /forever/, and yet as soon as his hunger is sated,
It never feels like he's going to get enough. He could do this /forever/, and yet as soon as his hunger is sated,
it starts to grow again. He’ll never be satisfied, he’ll always need /more/. More of Dazai, more of him on him, over him, under him, /in/ him, needs with the fierce burning of a thousand suns.
Taking a deeper breath, he rises up on his knees, pulling up until Dazai’s about
Taking a deeper breath, he rises up on his knees, pulling up until Dazai’s about
halfway inside him—
Then he’s sinking down again, eyes rolling back at the sensation of being /filled/ again. With the angle, the head of his cock /drags/ over his prostate, such intense, merciless sensation that his thighs are beginning to tremble.
Coming back to rest against
Then he’s sinking down again, eyes rolling back at the sensation of being /filled/ again. With the angle, the head of his cock /drags/ over his prostate, such intense, merciless sensation that his thighs are beginning to tremble.
Coming back to rest against
his hips is like satisfaction itself, the width of his cock stretching his rim to its limits. He grinds there, trying to get him /deeper/, circling his hips slowly.
"Fuck," Dazai hisses, rough voice sending a pulse of excitement down Chuuya's spine. The arm folded behind his
"Fuck," Dazai hisses, rough voice sending a pulse of excitement down Chuuya's spine. The arm folded behind his
head is tensing, bicep flexing. His other hand finds Chuuya's thigh, tracing the straining tendons and muscles in his thighs, leaving wet trails of lube behind.
Chuuya doesn't care about that, doesn't care about the /mess/, only cares about getting more touch, more pleasure,
Chuuya doesn't care about that, doesn't care about the /mess/, only cares about getting more touch, more pleasure,
more /everything/. He rocks his hips forward as he leans farther back, offering Dazai more access, /hoping/ he'll touch his cock again.
"Ride me, baby," Dazai murmurs, hand sliding up over his hip, thumb sweeping tempting close to where his erection is /aching/ for attention.
"Ride me, baby," Dazai murmurs, hand sliding up over his hip, thumb sweeping tempting close to where his erection is /aching/ for attention.
His eyes are like brands on Chuuya's skin, a physical burning weight that leaves him melting in its wake. "I want to /watch/."
Involuntarily, his body clenches up at the thought. There's something so intoxicating, so /addicting/, about the idea of being the center of Dazai's
Involuntarily, his body clenches up at the thought. There's something so intoxicating, so /addicting/, about the idea of being the center of Dazai's
attention. Like the rest of the world doesn't matter, the rest of his problems are melting away, all his insecurities and vulnerabilities fading away.
All there is is here and /now/, filled to the brim with pleasure and the need to /perform/.
The next time he drags his hips up
All there is is here and /now/, filled to the brim with pleasure and the need to /perform/.
The next time he drags his hips up
is a little faster than the last time, a little more confident. He circles his hips on the way back down, a moan escaping him at the different angles.
Dropping back down his relief on his thighs, but it's not as /hard/ as he wants it to be. Even with the weight of his body
Dropping back down his relief on his thighs, but it's not as /hard/ as he wants it to be. Even with the weight of his body
behind it, it's not /nearly/ as hard as it was when Dazai was fucking up, and he's craving it.
"Beautiful," Dazai breathes, hot-wet hand coasting over his working abs. "Don't stop."
He won't, he won't, he won't /ever/ stop.
Building a rhythm is surprisingly easy. All he has
"Beautiful," Dazai breathes, hot-wet hand coasting over his working abs. "Don't stop."
He won't, he won't, he won't /ever/ stop.
Building a rhythm is surprisingly easy. All he has
to do is follow the raging instincts of his body, the hunger in his stomach that is demanding more, and faster and /harder/.
Every bounce up is accented by the delicious drag of Dazai's cock against every one of his nerve endings. Every drop down feels like being remade again,
Every bounce up is accented by the delicious drag of Dazai's cock against every one of his nerve endings. Every drop down feels like being remade again,
every empty spot inside him getting filled again, until he feels like he might /burst/ from the overload.
The tension is building, coiling in his belly and growing tighter with every slam down. Dazai feels /so/ big in this position, so big he can't escape it, all he can do is
The tension is building, coiling in his belly and growing tighter with every slam down. Dazai feels /so/ big in this position, so big he can't escape it, all he can do is
hang on and /survive/.
His thighs are aching with the work, trembling with exertion. He's strung thin between the desire to stop and rest, and the /need/ to keep climbing up to the peak, chasing pleasure like a drug on his addicts tongue.
For the most part, Dazai is unmoving
His thighs are aching with the work, trembling with exertion. He's strung thin between the desire to stop and rest, and the /need/ to keep climbing up to the peak, chasing pleasure like a drug on his addicts tongue.
For the most part, Dazai is unmoving
underneath him. His hand is still wandering over his body, pausing to pinch and pull at his nipples until Chuuya is shuddering, sliding over his abs, thumb swirling over the pre-cum welling up at the tip of his cock.
With a wicked look in his eye, he brings his thumb to his
With a wicked look in his eye, he brings his thumb to his
mouth. His tongue is wet and tempting, metal ball of his piercing flashing in the light of the room as he /slowly/ licks his thumb clean. Chuuya is caught by the sight, eyes intently following every talented curl and swipe of his tongue and vividly remembering what it felt like
on his /dick/, how wet and hot and /perfect/ his mouth felt, the second best thing he's ever experienced.
The first being, obviously, his cock /inside/ him, but it's a hard thing to choose between.
If he focuses enough, he can /almost/ imagine the sensation of it. There's lube
The first being, obviously, his cock /inside/ him, but it's a hard thing to choose between.
If he focuses enough, he can /almost/ imagine the sensation of it. There's lube
on his erection now, hot from the leftover warmth of Dazai's hand and if he /thinks/ hard enough, he can /just/ imagine what it feels like to be swallowed down again, hot-wet suction around him--
His hips stutter, his rhythm beginning to fall apart as the tension continues to
His hips stutter, his rhythm beginning to fall apart as the tension continues to
build, starting to reach a breaking point.
It's good, it's /so/ good, somehow even better with how hard he has to work for it. The aching need in the base of his erection is rivalled by the ache of exertion in his thighs.
Dazai's hips shift underneath him, bucking up once with
It's good, it's /so/ good, somehow even better with how hard he has to work for it. The aching need in the base of his erection is rivalled by the ache of exertion in his thighs.
Dazai's hips shift underneath him, bucking up once with
force that Chuuya is lurching forward to catch himself with a hand on his chest, nearly unsettled from his seat entirely.
"I didn't say you could stop," Dazai muses, hand coasting back up his chest, over his collarbones, to wrap loosely around his throat. "You can do better than
"I didn't say you could stop," Dazai muses, hand coasting back up his chest, over his collarbones, to wrap loosely around his throat. "You can do better than
that, can't you? Don't tell me you're giving up already?"
He's not, he just needs a /break/. His thighs are burning and his abs are aching, and even though it's /so/ good, it's still somehow not enough, he needs /more/ and it's so /hard/--
He goes limp in Dazai's grip, hips
He's not, he just needs a /break/. His thighs are burning and his abs are aching, and even though it's /so/ good, it's still somehow not enough, he needs /more/ and it's so /hard/--
He goes limp in Dazai's grip, hips
grinding forward absently to get more friction against his erection from Dazai's stomach.
"No," he gasps out, lungs burning, "I just--"
He cuts himself off with a low keen, unable to continue that sentence. Unable to even think of what he was going to say, mind melting and
"No," he gasps out, lungs burning, "I just--"
He cuts himself off with a low keen, unable to continue that sentence. Unable to even think of what he was going to say, mind melting and
thoughts blurring together.
"I /know/," Dazai croons, voice reverberating in the small space between them and dripping like wax down Chuuya's spine, "You're close, aren't you? Just need a little more?"
Maybe the intent is to be mocking, but all he can think about is how /good/
"I /know/," Dazai croons, voice reverberating in the small space between them and dripping like wax down Chuuya's spine, "You're close, aren't you? Just need a little more?"
Maybe the intent is to be mocking, but all he can think about is how /good/
he sounds like that, how easy it is to slip into his control.
He nods, shifting his rhythm to small, short bounces on his cock. The angle means that his prostate is practically being /milked/, fiery waves of pleasure building and building and building.
"I can tell," he
He nods, shifting his rhythm to small, short bounces on his cock. The angle means that his prostate is practically being /milked/, fiery waves of pleasure building and building and building.
"I can tell," he
continues, dragging him down to give him a sweet, lingering kiss. "I can feel it when you get close."
Finally, /finally/, his other hand is moving and he's touching him with /both/ hands. This one finds the curve of his hip, tightening around it ruthlessly and dragging him back
Finally, /finally/, his other hand is moving and he's touching him with /both/ hands. This one finds the curve of his hip, tightening around it ruthlessly and dragging him back
into every thrust, increasing the pressure.
Breaking the kiss, Dazai slides to the side to smear loud, wet kisses over his cheeks. His breathing is rough, the only thing Chuuya can hear besides the wet sounds of their bodies coming together.
"You get /tighter/, baby," he
Breaking the kiss, Dazai slides to the side to smear loud, wet kisses over his cheeks. His breathing is rough, the only thing Chuuya can hear besides the wet sounds of their bodies coming together.
"You get /tighter/, baby," he
says, and something about having his /own body/ described to him in that voice makes Chuuya spiral even higher. "Feels so good around me."
Yes, yes, he /likes/ that, likes that he makes Dazai feel good, likes that he's doing /good/.
"I should keep you here forever," gets
Yes, yes, he /likes/ that, likes that he makes Dazai feel good, likes that he's doing /good/.
"I should keep you here forever," gets
smeared into his cheek, like a thought Dazai hadn't /meant/ to voice but ended up revealing by accident. "Strung out and just waiting for me to give you what you need."
The last word is punctuated by the hand leaving his hip and moving inwards, /finally/ wrapping around his
The last word is punctuated by the hand leaving his hip and moving inwards, /finally/ wrapping around his
erection. His thumb sliding over the pre-cum welling up and spreading the moisture around the head feels like beautiful hellfire.
"Maybe tomorrow," Dazai sighs, giving his cheek one last kiss before pushing him back a little. "Today I want to watch you cum."
This close, his
"Maybe tomorrow," Dazai sighs, giving his cheek one last kiss before pushing him back a little. "Today I want to watch you cum."
This close, his
eyes are all encompassing, vast pools of brown that are so easy to fall into. Easier than falling, easier than coming home, easier than breathing.
Spurred on by the words, Chuuya manages to pick up the pace a little bit. Dazai matches his rhythm, but in opposite, hand sliding up
Spurred on by the words, Chuuya manages to pick up the pace a little bit. Dazai matches his rhythm, but in opposite, hand sliding up
as Chuuys comes crashing down, rewarding him for another bounce up with another tight, wet stroke down to the base.
Pleasure is pulsing through him in hot waves, building and building, tidal pool into waves into /tsunamis/. He can feel it creeping up his spine, turning every
Pleasure is pulsing through him in hot waves, building and building, tidal pool into waves into /tsunamis/. He can feel it creeping up his spine, turning every
inch of his skin hypersensitive.
It builds momentum as it goes, growing faster, hotter, /better/ with each stroke of his cock. Every time his body clenches down, fighting for even /more/ pleasure, he's reminded of how unrelentingly hard Dazai is inside of him, throbbing with
It builds momentum as it goes, growing faster, hotter, /better/ with each stroke of his cock. Every time his body clenches down, fighting for even /more/ pleasure, he's reminded of how unrelentingly hard Dazai is inside of him, throbbing with
heat.
He's a mess of moans and choked whines, eyes beginning to haze over with his impeding orgasm. He can't look away from Dazai though, partly because his gaze is searing hot and irresistible and /mostly/ because whenever his eyes begin to flutter shut, Dazai /stops/.
"Don't
He's a mess of moans and choked whines, eyes beginning to haze over with his impeding orgasm. He can't look away from Dazai though, partly because his gaze is searing hot and irresistible and /mostly/ because whenever his eyes begin to flutter shut, Dazai /stops/.
"Don't
stop, don't stop, /please/, I'm-- /I'm/--," Chuuya pants out, cutting himself off with /another/ cry as Dazai tightens his grip on his throat. It's not enough to choke him, but it's just tight enough that it's a slight struggle to breathe past, making him dizzy and lightheaded.
It just makes it that much easier for the pleasure to overwhelm him, sending him spiraling with no sense of return.
He's close, /so/ close, the edge is drawing near. He's hanging over the cliff, pushed closer with every stroke of Dazai's hand, with every bounce on his cock.
He's close, /so/ close, the edge is drawing near. He's hanging over the cliff, pushed closer with every stroke of Dazai's hand, with every bounce on his cock.
Dazai leans in, gaze unwavering and so close its the only thing Chuuya can see as he finds his bottom lip and slowly sucks it into his mouth. He sets his teeth into it and pulls back, stretching the sensitive flesh until it starts to /sting/--
On the upstroke, Dazai squeezes
On the upstroke, Dazai squeezes
the head of his erection /mercilessly/, thumb sliding up to dig his nail into the sensitive slit with almost enough pressure to hurt--
And he's gone.
The orgasm crashes over him like an ocean storm, huge and filled with electricity, and /drowning/ him in sensation. Rapture rips
And he's gone.
The orgasm crashes over him like an ocean storm, huge and filled with electricity, and /drowning/ him in sensation. Rapture rips
through him from head to toe, with such intensity that it leaves his whole body shivering in the aftermath,filled with white-hot tingles.
Dazai's hand around his cock gets hotter and /wetter/, cum filling the spaces between his fingers and getting spread on the next stroke down.
Dazai's hand around his cock gets hotter and /wetter/, cum filling the spaces between his fingers and getting spread on the next stroke down.
He ekes out a few more bounces on his cock, overwhelmed by the sensation of his erection twitching in Dazai's grip, in the feeling of his prostate getting firm, relentless pressure applied, sending shards of white-hot pleasure down his thighs.
He can't get in enough air,
He can't get in enough air,
his lungs burning as the waves start to die down into weakening pulses--
Which is,of course,when Dazai stops having /mercy/ on him.
Vaguely, he can feel him shifting underneath him, legs drawing up and forcing Chuuya's thighs to open that much further as Dazai braces his feet--
Which is,of course,when Dazai stops having /mercy/ on him.
Vaguely, he can feel him shifting underneath him, legs drawing up and forcing Chuuya's thighs to open that much further as Dazai braces his feet--
The first slam of his hips /up/ startles a shocked cry from Chuuya, jolting in place. He doesn't have anywhere to /go/ though, his neck still caught with Dazai's fingers around it, and his thighs spread obscenely wide to fit his hips between.
The /second/ slam pulls out a
The /second/ slam pulls out a
oversensitive /yelp/ because--
He's not exactly /aiming/ for his prostate, he's more just setting up a /brutal/ pace, but fuck, the ridge of his cock drags against on every pull out, slides against it /hard/ on the thrust in and--
Fuck, fuck, /fuck/!
Keening, Chuuya digs his
He's not exactly /aiming/ for his prostate, he's more just setting up a /brutal/ pace, but fuck, the ridge of his cock drags against on every pull out, slides against it /hard/ on the thrust in and--
Fuck, fuck, /fuck/!
Keening, Chuuya digs his
nails into his chest, clawing at him as he tries to /survive/ the fast pace Dazai starts.
The pain just makes Dazai hiss, just makes him fuck him /harder/, makes the hand around his throat tighten and--
And--
Chuuya is going to /cry/, holy shit.
He's been fucked through his
The pain just makes Dazai hiss, just makes him fuck him /harder/, makes the hand around his throat tighten and--
And--
Chuuya is going to /cry/, holy shit.
He's been fucked through his
orgasms before but /that/ was with that strange, /wonderful/ hazy feeling he gets sometimes during sex. With that feeling filling up his head, it made it easy to relax into the oversensitivity, dulled the burning edge until it was easy to bear.
Now though?
Now he's /brutally/
Now though?
Now he's /brutally/
awake, aware of every sensation coursing through him. It's /so/ much, confusing in it's intensity, and he doesn't know if it feels like ecstasy or /agony/, all he knows is that he has no chance but to hang in Dazai's grip and /take it/.
"Hhhngh," he chokes out, eyes rolling back
"Hhhngh," he chokes out, eyes rolling back
in his head. "Fuck, /Dazai/, it-- God, fucking /please/, it /hurts/--."
The laugh Dazai lets out against his mouth is sinister, /sadistic/. "Does it?" He asks, voice dripping with intent, with /temptation/, with power and domination "Or do you /like it/?"
That's the /problem/,
The laugh Dazai lets out against his mouth is sinister, /sadistic/. "Does it?" He asks, voice dripping with intent, with /temptation/, with power and domination "Or do you /like it/?"
That's the /problem/,
he doesn't /know/, it's so fucking much, and he's not even given a /second/ to breathe, he's just being fucked out of his /mind/, beyond reason, he can't /handle it/--
"I think you /do/," Dazai continues, his free hand finding Chuuya's hip and /yanking/ him down into the next
"I think you /do/," Dazai continues, his free hand finding Chuuya's hip and /yanking/ him down into the next
thrust, increasing the force. "Because, baby--" he slides to the side, scraping his teeth over his cheek, and the feeling of how /heavy/ his breath is is exciting on it's own, "-- you haven't told me to /stop/."
That's true, he hasn't, he doesn't know if he /does/ want him to
That's true, he hasn't, he doesn't know if he /does/ want him to
stop, and he knows he /could/ make him stop, the word 'red' is there on the back of his tongue but--
His body is struggling but his /mind/ doesn't want to stop. He wants to prove himself, wants to be /good/.
Eyes squeezing shut, he digs his nails into Dazai's chest, fighting
His body is struggling but his /mind/ doesn't want to stop. He wants to prove himself, wants to be /good/.
Eyes squeezing shut, he digs his nails into Dazai's chest, fighting
to ground himself as the sensations wildly spin between searing-hot pleasure and electrified pain, fighting to /hold on/--
"That's my baby," Dazai purrs, and the kisses he places on his cheek are achingly gentle compared to the savage rhythm of his hips. "So good for me, even
"That's my baby," Dazai purrs, and the kisses he places on his cheek are achingly gentle compared to the savage rhythm of his hips. "So good for me, even
when it's hard."
The possession in his voice, the casual ownership of it, makes Chuuya shiver again, going limp in his grip. The fingers around his throat are tight, not because Dazai is choking him, but because he's supporting most of the weight of his upper body.
Chuuya
The possession in his voice, the casual ownership of it, makes Chuuya shiver again, going limp in his grip. The fingers around his throat are tight, not because Dazai is choking him, but because he's supporting most of the weight of his upper body.
Chuuya
spreads his thighs a little more, uncaring that the stretch is a /too/ much now, giving Dazai more room to work with.
The pleased growl against his cheek, and the feeling of Dazai's body working /harder/ underneath him, makes pride and self-satisfaction surge in his chest.
"We
The pleased growl against his cheek, and the feeling of Dazai's body working /harder/ underneath him, makes pride and self-satisfaction surge in his chest.
"We
should get you a collar,someday. As much as I /love/ my hands on you, I could put a /leash/ on you, and you'll have to just /take/ whatever I give you,however I give it to you, like a good boy."
Yes, yes, whatever he /wants/, Chuuya will do anything, /be/ anything, /everything/.
Yes, yes, whatever he /wants/, Chuuya will do anything, /be/ anything, /everything/.
(Is it unfair to be bringing up that topic for the first time while Chuuya is half out of his mind and Dazai is licking away his overstimulated tears? Probably.
Is Dazai in any state of mind to being thinking about /fairness/ and the /right thing/ right not?
Absolutely not.
Is Dazai in any state of mind to being thinking about /fairness/ and the /right thing/ right not?
Absolutely not.
Because he woke up with a little chibi sitting on his hips, watched him ride him like the only thing he wanted in the world was Dazai balls-deep inside him, and now--
Now he's tight and hot and /wet/, and even though he can feel his body instinctively trying to squirm away from
Now he's tight and hot and /wet/, and even though he can feel his body instinctively trying to squirm away from
the overload, he can /also/ sense the way Chuuya is actively trying to relax into it and--
Fuck, he's such a /good boy/, how can Dazai ever resist him?)
"Yes, Dazai," Chuuya croaks, feeling a compulsion to /answer/ even if it was probably just a rhetorical question, "Yes."
Fuck, he's such a /good boy/, how can Dazai ever resist him?)
"Yes, Dazai," Chuuya croaks, feeling a compulsion to /answer/ even if it was probably just a rhetorical question, "Yes."
Another slam of hips, more harsh breathing on his face. Dazai's rhythm is falling apart, jack-rabbit quick thrusts starting to slur into deep, frantic grinds. He's close.
Still, somehow his voice manages to stay /mostly/ composed as he scrapes his teeth over his cheek. "That's
Still, somehow his voice manages to stay /mostly/ composed as he scrapes his teeth over his cheek. "That's
not what you call me. That's not my /name/."
And, well--
Now that's he's gotten a little used to the sensation overload, he can think around it, just a little, enough that an /idea/ occurs to him, one that will either get him in /trouble/ or send Dazai over the /edge/--
And, well--
Now that's he's gotten a little used to the sensation overload, he can think around it, just a little, enough that an /idea/ occurs to him, one that will either get him in /trouble/ or send Dazai over the /edge/--
"Yes," his lips curl, mischevious, "/Daddy/."
There's a second where he can feel the breath in Dazai's lungs still, where he can /feel/ him twitch and throb inside him, and his hips press up, burying himself as deep as he can go--
Then Chuuya's world is /spinning/ and he's
There's a second where he can feel the breath in Dazai's lungs still, where he can /feel/ him twitch and throb inside him, and his hips press up, burying himself as deep as he can go--
Then Chuuya's world is /spinning/ and he's
going from being on /top/ to being /pinned/ to the mattress with near-vicious intensity. Dazai is bearing down on top of him, one hand planting by Chuuya's side to hold his weight while the /other/ finds the bend of his knee and pushes it /up/, until it's pressed to his chest.
When Dazai /slams/ back in, it's with the force of his entire body behind it, burying himself as far as he can go in one savage thrust.
There's not even a second to adjust, because he's pulling back out just as quickly, pounding back in, setting up a rhythm that has Chuuya
There's not even a second to adjust, because he's pulling back out just as quickly, pounding back in, setting up a rhythm that has Chuuya
choking on his own breath. He's arching beneath him, but there's nowhere to /go/, he's trapped, he's pinned, he's spread open wide for Dazai to fuck as hard and fast as he /wants/--
Somehow, Dazai manages to shuffle his knees to take more of his weight so he's balanced better.
Somehow, Dazai manages to shuffle his knees to take more of his weight so he's balanced better.
Then his hand is coming up, grabbing Chuuya by the jaw. His fingers squish his cheeks, grinding the insides against his teeth until it stings.
"You," Dazai practically snarls into his mouth, dropping down to give him a searing kiss that steals what remaining breath he has.
"You," Dazai practically snarls into his mouth, dropping down to give him a searing kiss that steals what remaining breath he has.
Another slam of his hips, and Chuuya is hanging on with everything he has, but he swears he's not going to survive this for much longer--
"Are /so/," gets smothered into his mouth, like the words have more meaning if they're spoken directly onto his tongue.
His prostate gets
"Are /so/," gets smothered into his mouth, like the words have more meaning if they're spoken directly onto his tongue.
His prostate gets
hammered on the next thrust, a direct blow that has Chuuya nearly /screaming/ in response, acid-burning shards of pleasure-pain melting through his spine.
Pushing his knee up higher, Dazai slams in and stares there, grinding wetly into him, as deep as he can go. His voice is
Pushing his knee up higher, Dazai slams in and stares there, grinding wetly into him, as deep as he can go. His voice is
broken, cracked with rumbling groans, drenched in pleasure that it's making /Chuuya's/ breath catch in response. "Fucking /perfect/."
That-- the idea of being /perfect/ for him, being irresistable, being /exactly/ what Dazai needs and wants-- has Chuuya's body clenching down in
That-- the idea of being /perfect/ for him, being irresistable, being /exactly/ what Dazai needs and wants-- has Chuuya's body clenching down in
instinctive arousal, hips rocking against him as much as he can move with how hard he's being pinned.
One, two, three short, hard thrusts inside him that makes him feel like Dazai is trying to climb inside him /entirely/, so deep Chuuya will never get him out, will never be able
One, two, three short, hard thrusts inside him that makes him feel like Dazai is trying to climb inside him /entirely/, so deep Chuuya will never get him out, will never be able
escape the feeling of him in his throat, in his lungs, in his /heart/--
Dazai goes still with a drawn out groan, hips twitching forward in intermittent thrusts as he orgasms. Chuuya's name is on his lips, muttered mindlessly and muffled into his mouth.
A new burst of warmth
Dazai goes still with a drawn out groan, hips twitching forward in intermittent thrusts as he orgasms. Chuuya's name is on his lips, muttered mindlessly and muffled into his mouth.
A new burst of warmth
floods through him. He can feel Dazai's erection twitching inside him in heavy waves that match the spurts of wet warmth beginning to fill him up. His hips are still rocking slightly, pulling out a little just to fuck back in, pushing his cum as far inside Chuuya as he can get.
Everything is hot and wet, satisfying some raw primal part of him. It's pleasant, and leaves Chuuya feeling buzzed and limp in the aftermath.
Even as the ache in his thighs begins to reassert itself, and his chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath under the constriction
Even as the ache in his thighs begins to reassert itself, and his chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath under the constriction
of Dazai pinning his knee to his chest--
The only thing he can really focus on is the raw /satisfaction/ of feeling cum beginning to leak down his ass in sticky trails as Dazai starts to soften inside him. God, he's a /mess/, smeared with lube, his own release and now /Dazai's/.
The only thing he can really focus on is the raw /satisfaction/ of feeling cum beginning to leak down his ass in sticky trails as Dazai starts to soften inside him. God, he's a /mess/, smeared with lube, his own release and now /Dazai's/.
He likes it. No, /loves/ it.
With a heaving breath of exertion, Dazai pushes himself up and off him, settling back onto his knees. The motion means he slides out completely, cum spilling out after him. Brown eyes follow the trail, dilating at the sight.
With a wince, Chuuya
With a heaving breath of exertion, Dazai pushes himself up and off him, settling back onto his knees. The motion means he slides out completely, cum spilling out after him. Brown eyes follow the trail, dilating at the sight.
With a wince, Chuuya
lets his leg drop back to the mattress. His hip is aching and the muscle shakes are already beginning to set in. He points his toes to stretch his legs out, groaning lightly.
Dazai presses a hand to his thigh, frowning when he feels how badly he’s trembling. “Are you okay?”
Dazai presses a hand to his thigh, frowning when he feels how badly he’s trembling. “Are you okay?”
Besides feeling like he pushed himself /way/ too hard at the gym and he might not be able to walk for a few hours, and the strangely empty feeling from lack of stimulation as his body starts to come down completely—
Yes, he’s fine.
Sighing, he relaxes into Dazai’s grip as
Yes, he’s fine.
Sighing, he relaxes into Dazai’s grip as
he begins a light massage, pressing into the muscles and soothing them. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
He hisses when Dazai presses in with his thumb on the inside of his thigh. “Though I’m starting to wonder if you’re trying to kill me with sex.”
That earns him a smile and a huff of
He hisses when Dazai presses in with his thumb on the inside of his thigh. “Though I’m starting to wonder if you’re trying to kill me with sex.”
That earns him a smile and a huff of
amusement. His thumb presses in harder as he leans forward and presses a kiss to his stomach. “Baby,” he sighs,licking a broad stripe over the mess on his skin, “That was me going /easy/ on you.”
If that’s /going easy/, then Chuuya might not /survive/ Dazai being rough with him.
If that’s /going easy/, then Chuuya might not /survive/ Dazai being rough with him.
He /admits/ he’s not that educated about sex, but he’s learning quickly and he can’t /imagine/ more than what Dazai’s already done with him? He’s been tied up, publicly tormented, fucked until he’s crying from oversensitivity—
What /more/ is there? How many possible ways can
What /more/ is there? How many possible ways can
there be to /have/ sex? What else can Dazai do to him?
It’s half anticipation, half- almost-fear that fills him at the thought.
The feeling of Dazai’s tongue swirling over his skin, finding every smear of cum and strawberry-flavored lube and lapping it up. Chuuya doesn’t
It’s half anticipation, half- almost-fear that fills him at the thought.
The feeling of Dazai’s tongue swirling over his skin, finding every smear of cum and strawberry-flavored lube and lapping it up. Chuuya doesn’t
know /why/ he finds the idea of Dazai licking him clean hot but—
Here he is, one hand buried in Dazai’s hair as he squirms at the sensations, breath quickening. Every breath he takes is tinged with soreness from his overworked abs.
His softened cock only gets one, long,
Here he is, one hand buried in Dazai’s hair as he squirms at the sensations, breath quickening. Every breath he takes is tinged with soreness from his overworked abs.
His softened cock only gets one, long,
rough-wet swipe of his tongue before Chuuya is dragging him away by his hair with a pained hiss.
He’s almost expecting Dazai to /resist/, maybe to swallow him down in direct opposition, and Chuuya is bracing himself because it’s /too much/ after everything, but he also can’t
He’s almost expecting Dazai to /resist/, maybe to swallow him down in direct opposition, and Chuuya is bracing himself because it’s /too much/ after everything, but he also can’t
find it in himself to tell him /no/—
But Dazai moves with the pull this time, sliding up his body easily, until he’s hovering over his face. His free hand comes up, grabbing Chuuya by his jaw and pulling his mouth open so he can claim him in a deep, open-mouthed kiss.
His
But Dazai moves with the pull this time, sliding up his body easily, until he’s hovering over his face. His free hand comes up, grabbing Chuuya by his jaw and pulling his mouth open so he can claim him in a deep, open-mouthed kiss.
His
tongue slides inside, rubbing the taste of himself over the roof of himself.
Last time, Chuuya thought this was gross. Now, it’s /bitter/, but actually pretty /hot/.
Now, his hands are in his hair, pulling him close. His legs are trembling too much to wrap them around his
Last time, Chuuya thought this was gross. Now, it’s /bitter/, but actually pretty /hot/.
Now, his hands are in his hair, pulling him close. His legs are trembling too much to wrap them around his
waist, but he keeps him as close for as long as possible using just his hands.
Their kiss is broken when Chuuya’s phone beeps from somewhere further up the bed. He tries to hold on but—
Dazai breaks the kiss with a final peck, offering him a sweet smile. He pulls away
Their kiss is broken when Chuuya’s phone beeps from somewhere further up the bed. He tries to hold on but—
Dazai breaks the kiss with a final peck, offering him a sweet smile. He pulls away
completely, rising up on his knees.
“You should answer that,” he says, shuffling off the bed, “I’ll get something to clean you up with.”
Chuuya pouts, but he can’t stop him from heading into the bathroom.
With a heavy sigh, he searches over the bed with his hand, looking for
“You should answer that,” he says, shuffling off the bed, “I’ll get something to clean you up with.”
Chuuya pouts, but he can’t stop him from heading into the bathroom.
With a heavy sigh, he searches over the bed with his hand, looking for
his phone. It was under the pillow last night, but this morning finds it buried halfway beneath the blankets.
He pulls it out, unlocking it with easy movements.
He’s expecting a text from his dad, or his sisters, or maybe a social media tag—
Not expecting a text from Shuuji.
He pulls it out, unlocking it with easy movements.
He’s expecting a text from his dad, or his sisters, or maybe a social media tag—
Not expecting a text from Shuuji.
[ SHUUJI ]: can we talk? :(
Chuuya has... a lot of /complicated/ feelings regarding Shuuji. The beginning of their... /relationship/ was rocky, and he's only just now realizing how manipulative and messed up he was to Chuuya, now that he has Dazai to show him what a boyfriend
Chuuya has... a lot of /complicated/ feelings regarding Shuuji. The beginning of their... /relationship/ was rocky, and he's only just now realizing how manipulative and messed up he was to Chuuya, now that he has Dazai to show him what a boyfriend
is /supposed/ to act like, and supposed to make him feel.
But he can't say that meeting Shuuji was a /bad/ thing, or that he'd ever change the way things turned out because...
His eyes wander over to the open bathroom door, where he can hear the sink being turned on and water
But he can't say that meeting Shuuji was a /bad/ thing, or that he'd ever change the way things turned out because...
His eyes wander over to the open bathroom door, where he can hear the sink being turned on and water
starting to rush.
If he hadn't met Shuuji, hadn't dealt with /everything/ Shuuji put him through, he wouldn't have met Dazai. Wouldn't have had a reason to spend so much time with him, wouldn't have had a reason for that first date, so long ago.
Shuuji might've tried his best
If he hadn't met Shuuji, hadn't dealt with /everything/ Shuuji put him through, he wouldn't have met Dazai. Wouldn't have had a reason to spend so much time with him, wouldn't have had a reason for that first date, so long ago.
Shuuji might've tried his best
to destroy what little confidence Chuuya had at the time, but it didn't /work/, and now he has Dazai.
All things considered, he'd say he came out with the better end of the deal.
Chuuya hovers over the keyboard, wondering what to say. They haven't talked directly ever since
All things considered, he'd say he came out with the better end of the deal.
Chuuya hovers over the keyboard, wondering what to say. They haven't talked directly ever since
Shuuji blew him off to go to that party. They're still in a group chat together and they're civil (as civil as Shuuji can be, at least) to each other there, but neither of them have been willing to break the silence first.
Until now, that is.
Does he answer? What does he say?
Until now, that is.
Does he answer? What does he say?
The /wording/ of the text is suspicious too. 'Can we talk', no explanation, no warning.
It's anxiety inducing, especially as a thought occurs to Chuuya:
Does he /know/ about him and Dazai?
They haven't talked about telling anyone else yet, and Chuuya doesn't know how he
It's anxiety inducing, especially as a thought occurs to Chuuya:
Does he /know/ about him and Dazai?
They haven't talked about telling anyone else yet, and Chuuya doesn't know how he
feels about /that/.
He's not ashamed of Dazai, it's just...
Having a negative reputation, especially one spread and collaborated by a young, rich businessman (Shuuji, in this case) can completely ruin his career before it begins. While the naïve, romantic side of him wants to
He's not ashamed of Dazai, it's just...
Having a negative reputation, especially one spread and collaborated by a young, rich businessman (Shuuji, in this case) can completely ruin his career before it begins. While the naïve, romantic side of him wants to
believe that he'll be with Dazai for a /long/ time and he'll be able to protect him from that,it's not a guarantee.
And based on that one text Shuuji sent in the group chat to Yuan about killing her for sleeping with his dad?He /won't/ be happy they're dating.
He has to answer.
And based on that one text Shuuji sent in the group chat to Yuan about killing her for sleeping with his dad?He /won't/ be happy they're dating.
He has to answer.
If only to keep the peace.
[ Chuuya ]: Sure, what's up?
In the time it takes the answer to come in, Dazai returns back to the bedroom. There's a wet washcloth in his hands, which he uses to gently clean the mess of lube and cum lingering on his skin. He's achingly gentle, and
[ Chuuya ]: Sure, what's up?
In the time it takes the answer to come in, Dazai returns back to the bedroom. There's a wet washcloth in his hands, which he uses to gently clean the mess of lube and cum lingering on his skin. He's achingly gentle, and
the towel is warm.
Such a simple, small detail that would've been easily overlooked--
But Dazai didn't overlook it. Somehow, he always manages to think of /everything/.
[ SHUUJI ]: I wanted to say im sorry
It feels strange to be hiding his phone from Dazai, carefully tipping
Such a simple, small detail that would've been easily overlooked--
But Dazai didn't overlook it. Somehow, he always manages to think of /everything/.
[ SHUUJI ]: I wanted to say im sorry
It feels strange to be hiding his phone from Dazai, carefully tipping
the screen away from him in a move that feels natural to keep him from seeing. It feels like he's /cheating/ on him, but he's /not/, he would never--
He just doesn't know how Dazai would feel about him talking to his son, considering their relationship is filled with animosity.
He just doesn't know how Dazai would feel about him talking to his son, considering their relationship is filled with animosity.
Besides, he's pretty sure the etiquette of sex says that texting with your boyfriend's son only a few minutes after getting your soul fucked out of you is bad manners.
He's not /hiding/, he's just...
Seeing what Shuuji wants and then waiting for the best time to tell Dazai
He's not /hiding/, he's just...
Seeing what Shuuji wants and then waiting for the best time to tell Dazai
about whatever it is.
(The best time would've been now. After this, after the next conversation and the next and the next--
It snowballs.
Too bad you rarely see the snow for the snowstorm.)
[ CHUUYA ]: sorry for what?
Dazai flips him onto his stomach so he can get the spots
(The best time would've been now. After this, after the next conversation and the next and the next--
It snowballs.
Too bad you rarely see the snow for the snowstorm.)
[ CHUUYA ]: sorry for what?
Dazai flips him onto his stomach so he can get the spots
on the back of his thighs. The rhythm he's using is relaxing, almost meditative.
[ SHUUJI ]: i was a real dick to you after the whole dinner thing. i was just having a really bad time with my whole family situation and when u didn't seem upset it made me think u didn't care :\
[ SHUUJI ]: i was a real dick to you after the whole dinner thing. i was just having a really bad time with my whole family situation and when u didn't seem upset it made me think u didn't care :\
He's... blaming him being an asshole for Chuuya not being /upset enough/ about being stood up? His head hurts trying to wrap around /that/.
[ SHUUJI ]: and my life kinda sucks rn so when u stopped talking to me, it felt really bad and i didn't want to talk to you either
/He/
[ SHUUJI ]: and my life kinda sucks rn so when u stopped talking to me, it felt really bad and i didn't want to talk to you either
/He/
stopped talking to /Chuuya/, actually.
[ SHUUJI ]: and now im realizing that u were a good friend to me and i want you back :(
The problem with that specific statement is that they weren't /friends/ in most senses of the word. Sure, they were in the same friend group, and still
[ SHUUJI ]: and now im realizing that u were a good friend to me and i want you back :(
The problem with that specific statement is that they weren't /friends/ in most senses of the word. Sure, they were in the same friend group, and still
are, but there was always an implicit understanding that there was something /more/ there, a romantic interest.
And 'I want you back'? What is this, a romance movie?
Chuuya can't find it in himself to be /too/ mad right now, considering that Dazai has procured a bottle of
And 'I want you back'? What is this, a romance movie?
Chuuya can't find it in himself to be /too/ mad right now, considering that Dazai has procured a bottle of
massage oil from /somewhere/,and is now massaging away all the aches in his thighs and lower back. /God/, his hands are lovely,they're /magic/. He knew that already,but when they find a knot at the base of his spine and press it away? /Heaven/.
[ CHUUYA ]: thanks for apologizing
[ CHUUYA ]: thanks for apologizing
Kouyou taught him to accept apologies instead of saying something else like 'it's okay'. Because it's /not/ okay, and he doesn't have to forgive someone the moment they apologize.
[ SHUUJI ]: so can we be friends again? :( my parents are fighting rn and yuan and nikolai are
[ SHUUJI ]: so can we be friends again? :( my parents are fighting rn and yuan and nikolai are
annoying rn. they don't understand what it's like to not have 2 parents :\
[ SHUUJI ]: well i have 2 parents and u don't but u know what i mean lol
In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have told Shuuji that his mother died because--
Wow. Alright then.
[ CHUUYA ]: fine but we are
[ SHUUJI ]: well i have 2 parents and u don't but u know what i mean lol
In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have told Shuuji that his mother died because--
Wow. Alright then.
[ CHUUYA ]: fine but we are
ONLY friends. no kissing, no dates, nothing like that. only friends.
[ SHUUJI ]: okay darling <3
Somehow, Chuuya doesn't think he gets the message, but he can beat it into his head another time.
Right now, he feels half-melted into the bed and Dazai is sliding up his body and
[ SHUUJI ]: okay darling <3
Somehow, Chuuya doesn't think he gets the message, but he can beat it into his head another time.
Right now, he feels half-melted into the bed and Dazai is sliding up his body and
leading the way with a trail of soft, sweet kisses up his spine and over his shoulder.
"Anything important?" He asks, chest rumbling against Chuuya's back.
With a content sigh, Chuuya turns his phone screen off and pushes his phone to the side. It's not important, not /nearly/
"Anything important?" He asks, chest rumbling against Chuuya's back.
With a content sigh, Chuuya turns his phone screen off and pushes his phone to the side. It's not important, not /nearly/
as important as twisting around to draw Dazai into a kiss. "No," he murmurs, "just a friend."
(There will be a time, not too long from now, when he's staring down a barreling car, hands wrapped around his throat and fighting for his life--
That he wishes he said something now.)
(There will be a time, not too long from now, when he's staring down a barreling car, hands wrapped around his throat and fighting for his life--
That he wishes he said something now.)
------- +
Signing up for classes for his second semester of college is much easier than the first time. He knows his way around the website by now, knows some of the professors and has heard rumors of most of the others, knows /not/ to sign up for any more morning classes, and
Signing up for classes for his second semester of college is much easier than the first time. He knows his way around the website by now, knows some of the professors and has heard rumors of most of the others, knows /not/ to sign up for any more morning classes, and
knows which buildings contain which classes, so he doesn't end up scheduling himself for back-to-back classes in buildings that are on opposite sides of campus.
At the same time though, it has the similar feeling of /loss/ to it because returning to school means he's giving up
At the same time though, it has the similar feeling of /loss/ to it because returning to school means he's giving up
time with Dazai.
It's like moving away from home again, losing his family in small ways. He's still /there/, he's not /gone/, but Chuuya will soon be swamped in coursework and classes and he won't have time for boyfriend-things anymore.
No more time for trips to Osaka, no more
It's like moving away from home again, losing his family in small ways. He's still /there/, he's not /gone/, but Chuuya will soon be swamped in coursework and classes and he won't have time for boyfriend-things anymore.
No more time for trips to Osaka, no more
lazy days in bed, no more days at the park playing with the dogs.
No more /sex/.
Well, that last one Chuuya /will/ work around, because he'd rather die than go longer than a week without getting pounded into Dazai's bed, but now there's /restrictions/.
Because not only does
No more /sex/.
Well, that last one Chuuya /will/ work around, because he'd rather die than go longer than a week without getting pounded into Dazai's bed, but now there's /restrictions/.
Because not only does
he have classes, the return of the semester means that Shuuji is home on a permanent basis.
/And/, by some stroke of luck that Chuuya is genuinely suspicious of, somehow he ends up in the same statistics class as Chuuya.
He didn't realize how /tiresome/ it was to work around
/And/, by some stroke of luck that Chuuya is genuinely suspicious of, somehow he ends up in the same statistics class as Chuuya.
He didn't realize how /tiresome/ it was to work around
Shuuji until he's sitting there contemplating how to climb onto the balcony into Dazai's room without him noticing.
As for the conversation about whether or not they should tell Shuuji they're dating...
Chuuya keeps putting it off. Dazai starts to bring it up once, but he
As for the conversation about whether or not they should tell Shuuji they're dating...
Chuuya keeps putting it off. Dazai starts to bring it up once, but he
quickly changes the subject because--
He hasn't decided how he feels about it. On one hand, he /wants/ to tell Shuuji just so they can stop sneaking around like new parents with an inquisitive toddler.
On the other hand, it /feels/ like there's a whole host of potential issues
He hasn't decided how he feels about it. On one hand, he /wants/ to tell Shuuji just so they can stop sneaking around like new parents with an inquisitive toddler.
On the other hand, it /feels/ like there's a whole host of potential issues
that Chuuya is /not/ prepared for the fallout for. Second semester will probably be even harder than the first one in a lot of ways,and he doesn't need more on his plate.
On a different, slightly related look at the issue--
Dazai is his /first/ boyfriend. There's a part of him,
On a different, slightly related look at the issue--
Dazai is his /first/ boyfriend. There's a part of him,
maybe young and naïve and /stupid/--
That wants to tell his /family/ first.
In his imagination, that's always who he's told first. Not his friends, but his sisters and his dad. They've always been his biggest supporters, even when it's been difficult.
He loves them, and he
That wants to tell his /family/ first.
In his imagination, that's always who he's told first. Not his friends, but his sisters and his dad. They've always been his biggest supporters, even when it's been difficult.
He loves them, and he
wants to share this part of his life with them.
Wants to share /Dazai/ with them.
He's just not sure how to bring that up. By now, they've been dating for a little over two weeks, and it feels /way/ too soon to even bring up the possibility of bringing Dazai home, but he also
Wants to share /Dazai/ with them.
He's just not sure how to bring that up. By now, they've been dating for a little over two weeks, and it feels /way/ too soon to even bring up the possibility of bringing Dazai home, but he also
wants it. Really badly.
How is he supposed to bring that conversation up though?
'Hey, wanna meet my /real/ daddy'? 'How do you feel about bonding with your boyfriend's dad who is only a little older than you'?
Every casual slide into /that/ conversation seems even more
How is he supposed to bring that conversation up though?
'Hey, wanna meet my /real/ daddy'? 'How do you feel about bonding with your boyfriend's dad who is only a little older than you'?
Every casual slide into /that/ conversation seems even more
ridiculous than the last. Besides, he hasn't even /mentioned/ Dazai to his family yet beyond vague mentions of meeting someone, so he supposes it's still a moot point for now.
He can't help but thinking about it though, when he's drifting off to sleep or when Dazai is on a call
He can't help but thinking about it though, when he's drifting off to sleep or when Dazai is on a call
with him while he's taking a study break, when he receives yet /another/ order of food that Dazai sent to him without asking or telling him.
He thinks about it, over and over and over again.
/What if I brought him home? What if I kept him? What if he was mine forever?/
He thinks about it, over and over and over again.
/What if I brought him home? What if I kept him? What if he was mine forever?/
Those thoughts never go away. They lurk beneath the surface, growing roots, spiraling out endlessly into the unknown reaches, leading Chuuya naturally into hopes of /forever/.
Of /always/. Of home, no matter where he goes.
[ SHUUJI ]: hey wanna study tonight my house?
Of /always/. Of home, no matter where he goes.
[ SHUUJI ]: hey wanna study tonight my house?
His immediate reaction is /no/ because he 'studied' with Shuuji once and that turned into being pinned against the wall and forcibly kissed until he was crawling with discomfort.
His second reaction, when he takes a few seconds to think about it, is /yes/ because--
Dazai is
His second reaction, when he takes a few seconds to think about it, is /yes/ because--
Dazai is
home today. He mentioned that earlier, said he was glad to enjoy some down time with Yoko.
If he says /yes/, he gets to see Dazai. It's been almost 10 days since they last saw each other, and while that doesn't /sound/ like a lot, Chuuya is /dying/ to see him.
So..he says yes.
If he says /yes/, he gets to see Dazai. It's been almost 10 days since they last saw each other, and while that doesn't /sound/ like a lot, Chuuya is /dying/ to see him.
So..he says yes.
[ SHUUJI ]: ok cool I will pick u up in 1 hr
That gives Chuuya just enough time to change out of his lazy day sweats and into something /cute/. Possibly something that Dazai bought him in Osaka (his closet is practically overflowing now, and he actually can’t have all his
That gives Chuuya just enough time to change out of his lazy day sweats and into something /cute/. Possibly something that Dazai bought him in Osaka (his closet is practically overflowing now, and he actually can’t have all his
clothes clean at the same time because he doesn’t have enough /room/ for them all now. He’s resorted to shoving clothes under his bed to make room.)
[ CHUUYA ]: ok cool see you then.
He exits out of his message threads with Shuuji and opens up his conversation with Dazai.
[ CHUUYA ]: ok cool see you then.
He exits out of his message threads with Shuuji and opens up his conversation with Dazai.
Their last messages were about the stray cat. Chuuya’s been trying to convince him to give the poor thing a bath so he’s clean again, but Dazai is insistent on not getting himself “scratched to death.”
It’s a work in progress.
His thumb hovers over the keyboard. Should he tell
It’s a work in progress.
His thumb hovers over the keyboard. Should he tell
him that he’s coming over? Or should he leave it as a pleasant surprise?
He /wants/ to surprise him because Dazai’s surprised him with things he liked, and he wants it to be fair—
But it also feels wrong to show up with his son without even a warning, so he starts to type out
He /wants/ to surprise him because Dazai’s surprised him with things he liked, and he wants it to be fair—
But it also feels wrong to show up with his son without even a warning, so he starts to type out
a message.
Halfway through, before he can send it, his phone starts to ring with an incoming call.
Kouyou.
It’s strange for her to call instead of text, so he immediately accepts the call and brings the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
For someone who hasn’t spoken to him beyond
Halfway through, before he can send it, his phone starts to ring with an incoming call.
Kouyou.
It’s strange for her to call instead of text, so he immediately accepts the call and brings the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
For someone who hasn’t spoken to him beyond
texting and social media tags, Kouyou sounds /real/ exasperated as she says, “So did you plan on telling me what you did or was I supposed to just find out myself?”
Chuuya’s blood goes cold.If she’s angry enough to skip a greeting,and gets straight to the point then—
She knows.
Chuuya’s blood goes cold.If she’s angry enough to skip a greeting,and gets straight to the point then—
She knows.
But if Chuuya has learned anything from being a little sibling, it’s to never admit to your crimes unless you have no other option. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you don’t know? You think I wouldn’t figure it out? You think I wouldn’t notice. Don’t play stupid.”
“Oh, you don’t know? You think I wouldn’t figure it out? You think I wouldn’t notice. Don’t play stupid.”
Chuuya doesn’t have a response to that because the anxiety is /spiking/.
The silent tension builds for a long moment, with Kouyou clearly waiting for a guilty confession and Chuuya is /so/ close to admitting it, for ‘yes, yes, it’s true, I /am/ a dirty dad fucker’/ to come
The silent tension builds for a long moment, with Kouyou clearly waiting for a guilty confession and Chuuya is /so/ close to admitting it, for ‘yes, yes, it’s true, I /am/ a dirty dad fucker’/ to come
spilling out of his mouth—
When Kouyou /bursts into laughter/.
“I really got you, didn’t I?” She cackles, sounding way too pleased with herself, “I bet you were really about to confess to something!”
Chuuya’s jaw /drops/. “You /asshole/! Did you call me just to /fuck/ with
When Kouyou /bursts into laughter/.
“I really got you, didn’t I?” She cackles, sounding way too pleased with herself, “I bet you were really about to confess to something!”
Chuuya’s jaw /drops/. “You /asshole/! Did you call me just to /fuck/ with
me?!”
That just makes her laugh harder.
He hates having siblings. He should’ve been born an only child.
“No, no,” she wheezes, finally starting to calm down after laughing at his pain for nearly an entire minute. “I’m calling to tell you to stop ignoring Dad’s calls.
That just makes her laugh harder.
He hates having siblings. He should’ve been born an only child.
“No, no,” she wheezes, finally starting to calm down after laughing at his pain for nearly an entire minute. “I’m calling to tell you to stop ignoring Dad’s calls.
Every time you don’t answer him, he calls /me/ and if I have to spend one more of my lunches reassuring him that you’re /not/ dead in a ditch, you’re just being a little prick, then I am going to come down to Keio and embarrass you in front of all your friends by telling them you
ate the birthday candles on your cake every year until you were /fifteen/.”
“Because you /told/ me I was supposed to?!” Chuuya shoots back, outraged. “I was young and vulnerable and you took advantage of me!”
“Whatever you say, wax-eater.”
“I am /not/ A WAX EATER!”
“Because you /told/ me I was supposed to?!” Chuuya shoots back, outraged. “I was young and vulnerable and you took advantage of me!”
“Whatever you say, wax-eater.”
“I am /not/ A WAX EATER!”
From the other side, he can hear shuffling as she leans back in her chair with a satisfied hum. “I havé picture proof, baby brother. Either call Dad back or I start printing out the family photo albums.”
See, this is why Chuuya is gay. Women are evil, conniving little assholes.
See, this is why Chuuya is gay. Women are evil, conniving little assholes.
He chooses to let it go though, because they’ve had this conversation /dozens/ of times before and they’ll just end up arguing circles with Kouyou being smug that she ‘introduced him to a new food group’ and ‘when you go grocery shopping, do you go to the supermarket or to Bed,
Bath and Beyond?’ and Chuuya getting increasingly mad at the fact that he /only/ ate birthday candles because she told him to for /years/.
Instead, he blows out a heaving sigh, turning his phone on speaker. Nikolai is in the room— he seems to be taking a more laidback approach
Instead, he blows out a heaving sigh, turning his phone on speaker. Nikolai is in the room— he seems to be taking a more laidback approach
to this semester, and has been spending less time working and more time studying in their room. Chuuya’s glad about it, because he seems more rested and Chuuya missed him— but he has a big pair of headphones on as he scribbled on his notebook so he’s probably not listening.
He lays the phone on the floor, bending down to get a folded pair of jeans out from under his bed. “Âne-san, he calls me almost every day. I can’t talk to him /every day/, that’s ridiculous.”
“Sure you can,” Kouyou huffs, an audible eye roll in her voice, “Have him tell you a
“Sure you can,” Kouyou huffs, an audible eye roll in her voice, “Have him tell you a
bedtime story every night or something, I don’t care. Just talk to him; he’s lonely and he’s worried about you.”
“It’s not fair,” Chuuya mutters, knowing he sounds like a child but unable to help it, “he wasn’t like this when you or Kyouka went to college.”
By now, he’s gotten
“It’s not fair,” Chuuya mutters, knowing he sounds like a child but unable to help it, “he wasn’t like this when you or Kyouka went to college.”
By now, he’s gotten
comfortable enough with Nikolai that he doesn’t think twice about stripping his sweats off.
“Yes but Kyouka and I didn’t spend most of our childhoods in a hospital and flu season doesn’t kick our ass every year like it does to you.”
Ugh, it /always/ comes back to that. Yes,
“Yes but Kyouka and I didn’t spend most of our childhoods in a hospital and flu season doesn’t kick our ass every year like it does to you.”
Ugh, it /always/ comes back to that. Yes,
he was born a couple weeks early and that caused a cascade of health issues that he struggled with as a child but he’s /outgrown/ that.
He’s fine now. Beyond some lingering mild symptoms— like needing much longer to recover from colds than most people his age and the continual
He’s fine now. Beyond some lingering mild symptoms— like needing much longer to recover from colds than most people his age and the continual
struggle to keep and hold weight— he’s /fine/.
Compared to how sick he used to get— like that time his regular cold turned into pneumonia that almost killed him— he’s practically the picture of health.
So what if he needs to take a little extra care during flu season? That’s
Compared to how sick he used to get— like that time his regular cold turned into pneumonia that almost killed him— he’s practically the picture of health.
So what if he needs to take a little extra care during flu season? That’s
nothing compared to what used to happen.
“Besides,” Kouyou continues, “you’re the baby, so of course he’s more attached to you. We’ve been his whole life for so long, and now that you’ve left... he must be lonely.”
Well, /now/ he feels bad. He cares about his dad, obviously,
“Besides,” Kouyou continues, “you’re the baby, so of course he’s more attached to you. We’ve been his whole life for so long, and now that you’ve left... he must be lonely.”
Well, /now/ he feels bad. He cares about his dad, obviously,
it’s just hard to feel like an independent adult when his dad is practically calling him to remind him to eat lunch every day.
“Fine,” he grumbles, yanking the jeans over his legs. They’re the same ripped pair he wore in Osaka, black with the hole in the thigh and opposite knee.
“Fine,” he grumbles, yanking the jeans over his legs. They’re the same ripped pair he wore in Osaka, black with the hole in the thigh and opposite knee.
“I’ll call him tomorrow sometime. I’m busy tonight.”
The faint typing on the other end stops abruptly, and he can practically /sense/ the way her attention is caught.
“Oh? Got a hot date?” Her voice is coy, teasing for information.
‘Hot date’ isn’t exactly how he’d describe
The faint typing on the other end stops abruptly, and he can practically /sense/ the way her attention is caught.
“Oh? Got a hot date?” Her voice is coy, teasing for information.
‘Hot date’ isn’t exactly how he’d describe
this situation but he’s /not/ about to get into the whole mess, especially with Nikolai in the room. “Yeah, something like that.”
“So you /were/ hiding something from me,” she gloats, victorious from finally being proven right, “You met a /boy/.”
/Boy/ is not the right word
“So you /were/ hiding something from me,” she gloats, victorious from finally being proven right, “You met a /boy/.”
/Boy/ is not the right word
for Dazai, not even close. “Yeah,” he hedges, unwilling to lie and /wanting/ her to know, but knowing exactly what happens when she finds out he has a crush.
Right on cue: “So... what’s his name? Tell me everything.”
Chuuya yanks the shirt over his head. “I’m not telling you
Right on cue: “So... what’s his name? Tell me everything.”
Chuuya yanks the shirt over his head. “I’m not telling you
his name. Remember what happened last time?”
There’s a small whining sound from the other side. Sometimes it’s just like the old days, before they grew up. Like they’re still kids, playing and messing with eachother. “Listen, it’s not /my/ fault your last crush was so stupid—.”
There’s a small whining sound from the other side. Sometimes it’s just like the old days, before they grew up. Like they’re still kids, playing and messing with eachother. “Listen, it’s not /my/ fault your last crush was so stupid—.”
“We were /seventeen/ and you Facebook-stalked him and called him stupid until he cried and blocked the entire family.”
At the time he’d been /pissed/. Now it’s kind of funny, admittedly, but he’s learned his lesson. Never give his sister any information to work with.
“Well, he
At the time he’d been /pissed/. Now it’s kind of funny, admittedly, but he’s learned his lesson. Never give his sister any information to work with.
“Well, he
was an asshole, anyways. Heard he dropped out of college ready,” she grumbles, blowing a breath into the receiver just to annoy him.
He pauses. “Are you /still/ Facebook stalking him?!”
“Anyways, tell me about your new boy toy. If you won’t tell me his name, then at least
He pauses. “Are you /still/ Facebook stalking him?!”
“Anyways, tell me about your new boy toy. If you won’t tell me his name, then at least
tell me what he looks like. How tall is he? How old is he? Is he cute?”
He pulls on a long sleeve navy shirt, cute but comfortable for the cooling weather. His makeup bag— new, bought for him by Dazai— is sitting by the floor-length mirror in their dorm and he goes to sit on the
He pulls on a long sleeve navy shirt, cute but comfortable for the cooling weather. His makeup bag— new, bought for him by Dazai— is sitting by the floor-length mirror in their dorm and he goes to sit on the
floor next to it.
He’s /pretty/ sure Nikolai is listening to music right now, and the other boy hasn’t even looked at him, but he’s sure to keep his details vague enough that they could describe Shuuji too. “He’s /very/ tall, very cute. Only a little bit older than me.”
He’s /pretty/ sure Nikolai is listening to music right now, and the other boy hasn’t even looked at him, but he’s sure to keep his details vague enough that they could describe Shuuji too. “He’s /very/ tall, very cute. Only a little bit older than me.”
‘Little bit’ meaning eighteen years, but /semantics/. It’s not like she can judge; Oda is nearly /eleven/ years older than her.
Rimbaud nearly had a heart attack when he first found out,but he’s come around by now. He likes Oda. They play golf together, sometimes.
“Is he rich?”
Rimbaud nearly had a heart attack when he first found out,but he’s come around by now. He likes Oda. They play golf together, sometimes.
“Is he rich?”
Chuuya rolls his eyes, carefully applying a light line of bronzer over his cheeks. “What is this, Gossip Girls?”
When she doesn’t respond, waiting for an answer, he heaves a sigh, “Yes. He owns a business.”
The noise she makes is appropriately awed and interested. “I knew I
When she doesn’t respond, waiting for an answer, he heaves a sigh, “Yes. He owns a business.”
The noise she makes is appropriately awed and interested. “I knew I
raised you right. Get yourself a rich businessman. I’m proud of you.”
He snorts. “Yeah, okay,” he says, tapping on the screen to see what time it is. There’s less than half an hour until Shuuji gets here, and he still has to pack all his books for statistics. “I have to go
He snorts. “Yeah, okay,” he says, tapping on the screen to see what time it is. There’s less than half an hour until Shuuji gets here, and he still has to pack all his books for statistics. “I have to go
now, ane-san. I’ll talk to you later and I promise I’ll call Dad sometime tomorrow.”
There’s a pause, like she doesn’t want to end the conversation just yet. He /does/ feel kind of guilty, because he’s sort of dropped off the network ever since he met Dazai.
After he stopped
There’s a pause, like she doesn’t want to end the conversation just yet. He /does/ feel kind of guilty, because he’s sort of dropped off the network ever since he met Dazai.
After he stopped
getting sick, they got really close for a while. Even when she went off to college first, or was spending most of her free time in extracurriculars after school—
There was always time for them to hang out together. /She/ always made time.
Now? Not so much.
Part of the
There was always time for them to hang out together. /She/ always made time.
Now? Not so much.
Part of the
consequences about growing up is sometimes growing /apart/ and even though it’s normal, it’s still /sad/.
He makes a note to talk to his family more often.
“I should go too. I’ll talk to you later, Chuuya. Be good,” Kouyou says.
“Love you, ane-san,” he tells her, waiting for
He makes a note to talk to his family more often.
“I should go too. I’ll talk to you later, Chuuya. Be good,” Kouyou says.
“Love you, ane-san,” he tells her, waiting for
her matching response before hanging up the phone.
A text had come in while he was on the phone, another one from Shuuji.
[ SHUUJI ]: can u bring the stats homework the teach assigned I wasn’t able to do it yesterday cuz of family shit :/
... What ‘family shit’?
A text had come in while he was on the phone, another one from Shuuji.
[ SHUUJI ]: can u bring the stats homework the teach assigned I wasn’t able to do it yesterday cuz of family shit :/
... What ‘family shit’?
He was talking to Dazai nearly all day yesterday and he never mentioned anything weird happening, and he didn’t /seem/ off, so...?
Maybe it has something to do with Sasaki, not that he’s heard much about her ever since the incident with Yoko.
Good. He’s never met her, but he
Maybe it has something to do with Sasaki, not that he’s heard much about her ever since the incident with Yoko.
Good. He’s never met her, but he
already /loathes/ her. Might even do something as reckless as /slap/ her if he saw her, for what she put Yoko and Dazai through.
Last he heard, she was still staying in a hotel, so maybe it has something to do with that.
Still, if Shuuji thinks he’s going to /copy/ off him,
Last he heard, she was still staying in a hotel, so maybe it has something to do with that.
Still, if Shuuji thinks he’s going to /copy/ off him,
he’s got another thing coming.
[ CHUUYA ]: I didn’t do it either lol but we can figure it out together.
A lie. He already completed and turned it in already, days before it was due. He’s an overachiever like that.
[ SHUUJI ]: oh ok
Closing his makeup bag, he gets up to
[ CHUUYA ]: I didn’t do it either lol but we can figure it out together.
A lie. He already completed and turned it in already, days before it was due. He’s an overachiever like that.
[ SHUUJI ]: oh ok
Closing his makeup bag, he gets up to
pack his bag quickly. Even if this is all just a sneaky way to see Dazai again, he should probably do /some/ studying while he's there. There's a quiz coming up next week sometime, and he needs to be prepared.
He'll study and /then/ he'll get play time with his boyfriend. The
He'll study and /then/ he'll get play time with his boyfriend. The
reward system always works.
Reaching up, Nikolai tugs the headphones off his ears. They're pink, with light-up cat ears along the top. A little ridiculous in Chuuya's opinion, but they fit.
"Are you going somewhere?" Nikolai asks, looking up at him.
"Yeah, I'm going to study
Reaching up, Nikolai tugs the headphones off his ears. They're pink, with light-up cat ears along the top. A little ridiculous in Chuuya's opinion, but they fit.
"Are you going somewhere?" Nikolai asks, looking up at him.
"Yeah, I'm going to study
with Shuuji. I’ll probably be back later tonight or maybe tomorrow morning.”
/Hopefully/ tomorrow morning, because Chuuya is already planning a midnight visit to Dazai’s bed. Which sounds even more exciting than usual because this time they’ll have to be /quiet/.
Nikolai
/Hopefully/ tomorrow morning, because Chuuya is already planning a midnight visit to Dazai’s bed. Which sounds even more exciting than usual because this time they’ll have to be /quiet/.
Nikolai
looks like he's going to say something else, but then Chuuya's phone beeps again, with another text from Shuuji saying that he's here.
Chuuya waves at Nikolai on his way out the door, leaving him to lock it behind him. His keys are buried deep in his backpack.
(Nikolai watches
Chuuya waves at Nikolai on his way out the door, leaving him to lock it behind him. His keys are buried deep in his backpack.
(Nikolai watches
him go with a strange, calculating look in his eye, before pulling out his own phone and shooting off a text.)
Shuuji's driving is, unfortunately, a lesson in the idea that you /can/ get used to anything with enough time, no matter how horrible it is. Chuuya barely even gets
Shuuji's driving is, unfortunately, a lesson in the idea that you /can/ get used to anything with enough time, no matter how horrible it is. Chuuya barely even gets
carsick anymore, even when Shuuji goes fishtailing around a corner with enough speed that he swears he can feel two of the wheels lift off the ground.
They've barely seen each other since the party incident, so the atmosphere is a bit tense in the car. Chuuya tries to keep it
They've barely seen each other since the party incident, so the atmosphere is a bit tense in the car. Chuuya tries to keep it
lighthearted by telling a few stories about his vacation over the break (carefully scrubbed of details, of course) but he's mostly focused on keeping him and his backpack in his seat, and fighting down a rising level of excitement.
/He's going to see Dazai soon. /
Luckily,
/He's going to see Dazai soon. /
Luckily,
Shuuji seems to preoccupied by telling stories of /his/ own vacation-- in the Carribbean, of all places, which explains why he looks so pink and sunburned -- to really pick up on Chuuya's behavior.
By the time they arrive, Chuuya is practically vibrating in his seat. He barely
By the time they arrive, Chuuya is practically vibrating in his seat. He barely
even waits for the car to turn off before he's getting out. Up here, it's even cooler, so he's glad he wore a long sleeve.
It's /also/ the long-sleeve he wore on his very /first/ date with Dazai, so he hopes he picks up on that. The 'D' necklace is around his neck, tucked into
It's /also/ the long-sleeve he wore on his very /first/ date with Dazai, so he hopes he picks up on that. The 'D' necklace is around his neck, tucked into
the turtleneck for now to keep Shuuji from asking questions about it.
He likes it that way, actually. Likes the subtle reminder just for /him/ and no one else. Ever since the 'collar' comment Dazai made, he's been exploring the internet a little bit and--
He actually /likes/
He likes it that way, actually. Likes the subtle reminder just for /him/ and no one else. Ever since the 'collar' comment Dazai made, he's been exploring the internet a little bit and--
He actually /likes/
the idea and look of those? Some of them, anyways. Some are way too outlandish and extreme for him, but the subtle ones? The ones that look like chokers, maybe with the little metal ring in the center or the ones that have a place for a tag to hang from them?
He likes those.
He likes those.
He can't even think about the 'leash' comment without getting flashes of star-fire heat, remembering how /deeply/ Dazai was fucking him then but--
He likes the collars. He wants one, and he thinks he's probably going to tell that to Dazai today.
Shuuji enters the house first,
He likes the collars. He wants one, and he thinks he's probably going to tell that to Dazai today.
Shuuji enters the house first,
with Chuuya right on his heels. The dogs are immediately there to greet them, Yoko in front. (She's better now. After some training and reassurance that she's /not/ going to be assaulted every time someone opens the door, she's gotten her confidence back.)
"I'll go get my stuff
"I'll go get my stuff
from my room," Shuuji mutters, heading upstairs. He seems to be taking the 'friends' deal pretty easily, and beyond a few /darling/ comments, he's actually been rather respectful of Chuuya's new boundaries.
It feels strange, considering that he was fully prepared to tear him a
It feels strange, considering that he was fully prepared to tear him a
new one if he put his hand on his thigh like he usually does when he's driving--
But he didn't, which is a relief.
While Shuuji stomps about upstairs, Chuuya goes looking for Dazai. He wants to say hello at least, because after the call with his sister, he totally forgot to
But he didn't, which is a relief.
While Shuuji stomps about upstairs, Chuuya goes looking for Dazai. He wants to say hello at least, because after the call with his sister, he totally forgot to
warn him that he was coming. Hopefully he's not angry or anything.
Dazai is in the kitchen when he enters, frowning down at his phone and eating what looks like a piece of peanut butter toast. He doesn't see Chuuya right away.
"Hi," Chuuya says breathlessly, getting his
Dazai is in the kitchen when he enters, frowning down at his phone and eating what looks like a piece of peanut butter toast. He doesn't see Chuuya right away.
"Hi," Chuuya says breathlessly, getting his
attention. He practically skips up to him, beaming, expecting a kiss hello--
Dazai stiffens, head shooting up. His eyes find Chuuya quickly.
The frown on his face does not fade.
He stares at him like he's not sure why he's here. "What are you doing here?"
Chuuya's smile dims.
Dazai stiffens, head shooting up. His eyes find Chuuya quickly.
The frown on his face does not fade.
He stares at him like he's not sure why he's here. "What are you doing here?"
Chuuya's smile dims.
The excitement in his stomach begins to sour. Dazai doesn’t look happy to see him at /all/.
Clutching the straps of his backpack, Chuuya looks away. He can’t stand to look at Dazai when he looks like /that/. “I came to study with Shuuji. He gave me a ride here. I wanted to see
Clutching the straps of his backpack, Chuuya looks away. He can’t stand to look at Dazai when he looks like /that/. “I came to study with Shuuji. He gave me a ride here. I wanted to see
you.”
His voice is small, quiet.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dazai’s expression clear. Not in a /good/ way either. In a /bad/ way, like he’s forcing himself to not show any emotion, like he’s closing himself off, shutting down.
“You came to study with Shuuji,” he
His voice is small, quiet.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dazai’s expression clear. Not in a /good/ way either. In a /bad/ way, like he’s forcing himself to not show any emotion, like he’s closing himself off, shutting down.
“You came to study with Shuuji,” he
repeats, making sure he heard Chuuya correctly.
Chuuya shrinks in on himself. “Yeah,” he mutters, feeling bad, /so/ bad, he fucked up, didn’t he, oh god, “We’re, uh— we’re friends now.”
He never really went into what happened with Shuuji. He’s sure Dazai knows some of what
Chuuya shrinks in on himself. “Yeah,” he mutters, feeling bad, /so/ bad, he fucked up, didn’t he, oh god, “We’re, uh— we’re friends now.”
He never really went into what happened with Shuuji. He’s sure Dazai knows some of what
their relationship was like, and he obviously knew Shuuji was interested in him, but they’ve avoided talking about it in depth.
/Mistake, mistake, he fucked up—/
Dazai’s eyebrow arches, slow and disbelieving. He shuts his phone off, giving Chuuya his full attention and
/Mistake, mistake, he fucked up—/
Dazai’s eyebrow arches, slow and disbelieving. He shuts his phone off, giving Chuuya his full attention and
crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re friends with Shuuji.”
God,the way he’s just /repeating/ what Chuuya is saying makes him feel worse and worse, like what he’s saying is so /stupid/ Dazai can’t believe it. He nods, heart lurching in his chest sickeningly.
“Just friends?”
God,the way he’s just /repeating/ what Chuuya is saying makes him feel worse and worse, like what he’s saying is so /stupid/ Dazai can’t believe it. He nods, heart lurching in his chest sickeningly.
“Just friends?”
Chuuya’s stomach /drops/, mouth opening in surprise. “Yes, of /course/, I would never—.”
Dazai cuts him off, voice cold and cutting. “Does he know that?”
“Yes, I told him. You can even ask him if you want—.”
How did it all go wrong so quickly? He should’ve /said/ something—
Dazai cuts him off, voice cold and cutting. “Does he know that?”
“Yes, I told him. You can even ask him if you want—.”
How did it all go wrong so quickly? He should’ve /said/ something—
“I’m not asking him; I’m asking /you/. If he knows that you two are just friends, then he knows about us, right? That we’re dating?” The tone in his voice is self-prophetic, like he’s just waiting for his suspicions to be proven right.
There are some points in your life, in the
There are some points in your life, in the
aftermath of things, where you can look back and pinpoint the beginning of the fall. That /one/ decision that led you here, to this awful moment, and all you can think is—
How could I be so fucking stupid? Why didn’t I /think/?
Hunching his shoulders and wishing the ground
How could I be so fucking stupid? Why didn’t I /think/?
Hunching his shoulders and wishing the ground
would swallow him whole, Chuuya mutters, “No.”
Dazai’s smile is /mean/, almost. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Finally, some spark of anger flares up in Chuuya’s stomach. /Yes,/ he made a mistake, he can see that now and he’ll apologize, but why is Dazai being so /mean/?
Dazai’s smile is /mean/, almost. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Finally, some spark of anger flares up in Chuuya’s stomach. /Yes,/ he made a mistake, he can see that now and he’ll apologize, but why is Dazai being so /mean/?
“Well how was I supposed to know you didn’t want me to be friends with him? If you don’t want me to, then /fine/, I won’t, but I don’t know why you’re acting like I’m cheating on you or something,” he snaps, throwing his hands in the air.
Dazai’s hand comes down onto the table,
Dazai’s hand comes down onto the table,
cutting him off with a harsh /crack!/. “Stop. I didn’t accuse you of anything and I’m not going to, so stop with that. You want to be friends with him? Fine. You want to keep our relationship a secret? Fine. It’s not /those/ I have a problem with, it’s the fact that you are
/incapable/ of communicating about it. You are making these decisions without even /talking/ to me about it, and getting pissed when I’m upset about it!”
Chuuya’s mouth falls shut, clenching because—
He’s right. It hurts, but he’s right.
(For his part, Dazai /is/ trying to
Chuuya’s mouth falls shut, clenching because—
He’s right. It hurts, but he’s right.
(For his part, Dazai /is/ trying to
keep it together, but he’s having a /bad fucking day/.
Rokuzou has been off the grid for almost an entire week now, Sasaki is /spamming/ him with calls, Shuuji is always complaining about the classes he signed up for—
And it’s the anniversary of his parents death in 3 days.
Rokuzou has been off the grid for almost an entire week now, Sasaki is /spamming/ him with calls, Shuuji is always complaining about the classes he signed up for—
And it’s the anniversary of his parents death in 3 days.
He always gets /moody/ around this time of year, and he fucking hates it because even sixteen years after he slit Mori’s throat in his own office, it still feels like he’s got his hands wrapped around his throat.
He can deal with it, he just gets angrier more quickly than usual.
He can deal with it, he just gets angrier more quickly than usual.
And if he had a /choice/, he would’ve waited to see Chuuya for a few more days, because he doesn’t /want/ to be angry at him. He doesn’t want to yell.
But /fuck/, why can’t he just /talk/ to him? If he didn’t want to tell Shuuji, Dazai is /okay/ with that, he just didn’t want
But /fuck/, why can’t he just /talk/ to him? If he didn’t want to tell Shuuji, Dazai is /okay/ with that, he just didn’t want
the news to be sprung on him when Chuuya is /literally/ walking into his house for a study session.
He deserves a say in this relationship too.)
Chuuya opens his mouth to respond, but Dazai cuts him off again. All the anger has drained out of his voice, leaving just a frigid,
He deserves a say in this relationship too.)
Chuuya opens his mouth to respond, but Dazai cuts him off again. All the anger has drained out of his voice, leaving just a frigid,
freezing chill that leaves him shivering in its wake.
“How many times do I have to ask you to talk to me? When will you realize that I have thoughts and feelings in this relationship too?”
Before Chuuya can even /begin/ to respond to that—
There’s a knock on the front door.
“How many times do I have to ask you to talk to me? When will you realize that I have thoughts and feelings in this relationship too?”
Before Chuuya can even /begin/ to respond to that—
There’s a knock on the front door.
——— +
One of Dazai’s most underestimated talents is the ability to switch gears in seconds.
Because one moment, he’s filled with anger and struggling with the feeling that Chuuya isn’t in the relationship for /him/, he’s just in it for the sex, and /knowing/ that he shouldn’t
One of Dazai’s most underestimated talents is the ability to switch gears in seconds.
Because one moment, he’s filled with anger and struggling with the feeling that Chuuya isn’t in the relationship for /him/, he’s just in it for the sex, and /knowing/ that he shouldn’t
be feeling that way and it’s unfair to Chuuya but /fuck/—
And the next there’s a knock on the door, and suddenly he doesn’t have relationship problems at this exact moment anymore.
Now, he has a house with his boyfriend in it, and someone unexpected at the door.
Part of the
And the next there’s a knock on the door, and suddenly he doesn’t have relationship problems at this exact moment anymore.
Now, he has a house with his boyfriend in it, and someone unexpected at the door.
Part of the
reason he chose this area to live in is that it’s /quiet/. Everyone minds their business, there’s no monthly meetings of the neighborhood, there’s not many kids under school age.
In the seven years he’s lived in this house, there’s only been a handful of visitors he wasn’t aware
In the seven years he’s lived in this house, there’s only been a handful of visitors he wasn’t aware
of before they were coming.
He wasn’t expecting anyone today.
“Call Yoko,” he tells Chuuya, straightening. When he sees the confusion on his face and the argument beginning to form, he holds up a hand. “Please don’t argue. We can talk later, but I need you to call Yoko now.”
He wasn’t expecting anyone today.
“Call Yoko,” he tells Chuuya, straightening. When he sees the confusion on his face and the argument beginning to form, he holds up a hand. “Please don’t argue. We can talk later, but I need you to call Yoko now.”
There’s a gun in a holster bolted to the underside of the dining table.He goes for it while Chuuya calls for Yoko, palming it and smoothly tucking it into the waistband of his jeans so Chuuya doesn’t see it.
When Yoko is sitting at Chuuya’s feet,he says, “Tell her to guard you.”
When Yoko is sitting at Chuuya’s feet,he says, “Tell her to guard you.”
He issues the command that Dazai taught him in the backyard a few months ago, and Yoko instantly gets up and turns so her body is pressed against his calf. Chuuya looks up at Dazai, obviously confused and startled by the abrupt change from their argument. “What’s going on? Who’s
at the door?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters, stalking out of the kitchen. “That’s the problem.”
Kozo, who had followed Yoko when she was called, joins him at his side when Dazai gestures for him, head hanging low and focused. His tail is completely still, stiff. He’s on guard.
“I don’t know,” he mutters, stalking out of the kitchen. “That’s the problem.”
Kozo, who had followed Yoko when she was called, joins him at his side when Dazai gestures for him, head hanging low and focused. His tail is completely still, stiff. He’s on guard.
With silent footsteps, Dazai approaches the door, one hand hovering near his gun as he leans in to look through the peephole—
And nearly groans out loud when he sees who is on his doorstep, rocking back and forth on their heels cheerfully.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,”
And nearly groans out loud when he sees who is on his doorstep, rocking back and forth on their heels cheerfully.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,”
Dazai mutters to himself, resting his forehead against the door. He really cannot get a single break today, can he?
Being who he is, Dazai knows of or knows personally every single person of important in Yokohama, and most in Japan. He’s dealt with most criminals, most
Being who he is, Dazai knows of or knows personally every single person of important in Yokohama, and most in Japan. He’s dealt with most criminals, most
government and business officials in some form or another, and a decent amount of the police force.
/This/ person he’s been avoiding for months now, and the feeling /was/ mutual between them—
Until now, apparently, when he shows up at Dazai’s door unannounced.
Today sucks.
/This/ person he’s been avoiding for months now, and the feeling /was/ mutual between them—
Until now, apparently, when he shows up at Dazai’s door unannounced.
Today sucks.
“If you don’t let me in, I’m going to cause you a whole lot of problems,” comes from the other side of the door, slightly muffled.
Yeah, Dazai knows. He’s just gathering up his will to live right now.
Painting on a fake smile and gesturing for Kozo to wait out of sight of the
Yeah, Dazai knows. He’s just gathering up his will to live right now.
Painting on a fake smile and gesturing for Kozo to wait out of sight of the
door as he opens it, he greets him with a, “Hi, can I help you—.”
The smaller man pushes past him without letting him finish, green eyes looking around with interest. “Cut the crap Dazai, we both know that you know who I am.”
Sighing, Dazai folds his arms over his chest.
The smaller man pushes past him without letting him finish, green eyes looking around with interest. “Cut the crap Dazai, we both know that you know who I am.”
Sighing, Dazai folds his arms over his chest.
Through his teeth, he grits out, “Hi, Ranpo. Is there something you needed from me?”
Green eyes zero in on Chuuya, who is standing defensively in the kitchen still, lighting up with interest. “Who’s that?”
Stepping to the side so his body is blocking Ranpo’s view of him, Dazai
Green eyes zero in on Chuuya, who is standing defensively in the kitchen still, lighting up with interest. “Who’s that?”
Stepping to the side so his body is blocking Ranpo’s view of him, Dazai
opens his mouth to tell him that it’s none of his business and to stay focused when—
With all the confidence and thoughtlessness of someone who was never taught not to share your name with anyone who asks for it, Chuuya cocks his hip to the side and says, snidely, “I’m
With all the confidence and thoughtlessness of someone who was never taught not to share your name with anyone who asks for it, Chuuya cocks his hip to the side and says, snidely, “I’m
Nakahara Chuuya. Who are /you/?”
Dazai’s gaze wanders up to the ceiling. God help him from stupid little idiots, because if Chuuya wasn’t on the Agency’s radar he sure as fuck is /now/.
Ranpo looks between the two of them, squinting like he doesn’t believe it. To Dazai, he
Dazai’s gaze wanders up to the ceiling. God help him from stupid little idiots, because if Chuuya wasn’t on the Agency’s radar he sure as fuck is /now/.
Ranpo looks between the two of them, squinting like he doesn’t believe it. To Dazai, he
says while pointing at Chuuya, “That’s Nakahara Chuuya?”
Expression unmoving,Dazai neither confirms or denies anything.
There’s a second where they just stare at each other,both of them waiting for the other to crack while Chuuya makes disgruntled noises in the back.
And then—
Expression unmoving,Dazai neither confirms or denies anything.
There’s a second where they just stare at each other,both of them waiting for the other to crack while Chuuya makes disgruntled noises in the back.
And then—
Ranpo /bursts/ into laughter. Stomach- holding, knee-slapping, wheezing laughter that goes on and on and /on/ until there are tears streaming from his eyes.
“Why is he laughing?” Chuuya asks, sounding /very/ peeved.
“Because he’s an asshole,” Dazai sighs, exhausted, “and
“Why is he laughing?” Chuuya asks, sounding /very/ peeved.
“Because he’s an asshole,” Dazai sighs, exhausted, “and
probably because he knows something we don’t know.”
That just makes Ranpo laugh /harder/, and at this point Dazai is sure he’s about to start rolling on the floor.
“You don’t know,” he cackles, holding his stomach, “oh, that’s so good. I can’t believe this. You don’t know.”
That just makes Ranpo laugh /harder/, and at this point Dazai is sure he’s about to start rolling on the floor.
“You don’t know,” he cackles, holding his stomach, “oh, that’s so good. I can’t believe this. You don’t know.”
Dazai hates him. He’s the only one in the city who can consistently and continuely beat him at his own game. “I’d know if you told me.”
“Oh no, no, no, I’m not going to /tell/ you. This is too good to just /tell/ you. But I do hope I’m there when you meet her because—.” Ranpo
“Oh no, no, no, I’m not going to /tell/ you. This is too good to just /tell/ you. But I do hope I’m there when you meet her because—.” Ranpo
dissolves into laughter again, and the only thing Dazai can pick out in the mess of giggles and wheezing is—
A garbled ‘family reunion’.
Now he /would/ latch onto that tidbit and try to figure out what /that/ means but—
“Hey Dad, who’s this?”
Oh my /god/.
He’s
A garbled ‘family reunion’.
Now he /would/ latch onto that tidbit and try to figure out what /that/ means but—
“Hey Dad, who’s this?”
Oh my /god/.
He’s
understandably distracted when Shuuji comes trotting down the stairs and makes the whole situation ten times /worse/.
Pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the building headache, Dazai reasons with himself. Prison is actually pretty nice this time of year, he hears.
Pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the building headache, Dazai reasons with himself. Prison is actually pretty nice this time of year, he hears.
It’s election season and officials are up for re-election are trying to prove that they’re semi-decent people by loosening up strict rules for prisoners. If he gets arrested now, he might actually get a bonafide prison peanut butter and jelly sandwich /and/ a blanket before they
take it away again and drop him into a maximum security cell for solitary confinement.
He even has friends in prison. It’d be a vacation compared to this.
With a rustle of clothing, Ranpo straightens. His laughter has stopped, and is now replaced with a /salacious/ tone as he
He even has friends in prison. It’d be a vacation compared to this.
With a rustle of clothing, Ranpo straightens. His laughter has stopped, and is now replaced with a /salacious/ tone as he
introduces himself. “Edogawa Ranpo, the greatest detective. At your service.”
Anndddd.... now he’s /flirting/.
Yeah, that’s fine. That’s normal. That’s great. That’s /perfect/, actually.
With increasing hysteria, Dazai debates the pros and cons of turning himself in.
Anndddd.... now he’s /flirting/.
Yeah, that’s fine. That’s normal. That’s great. That’s /perfect/, actually.
With increasing hysteria, Dazai debates the pros and cons of turning himself in.
“My name is Shuuji, but you can call me anytime.”
Oh, /come on/.
Dazai’s eyes snap back open and he makes a /what the fuck/ gesture at Shuuji. If he’s going to flirt with Dazai’s technical arch-nemesis (Shuuji’s too, because he is technically the rightful heir to the Port
Oh, /come on/.
Dazai’s eyes snap back open and he makes a /what the fuck/ gesture at Shuuji. If he’s going to flirt with Dazai’s technical arch-nemesis (Shuuji’s too, because he is technically the rightful heir to the Port
Mafia) then at /least/ flirt /well/. Use some original pick up lines or /something/, for gods sake, he’s making Dazai look bad.
Not that Ranpo seems to actually care, because he’s apparently that /looks/ are more important than speaking skills. If he checks Shuuji out any
Not that Ranpo seems to actually care, because he’s apparently that /looks/ are more important than speaking skills. If he checks Shuuji out any
harder, he might as well be undressing him.
This is a nightmare. Dazai hates it here. Well and truly hates it.
Without looking away from Shuuji, a seductive smirk curving his lips, Ranpo says, “I hope you’re not busy, Dazai.”
“By all means,” Dazai shoots back, throwing his
This is a nightmare. Dazai hates it here. Well and truly hates it.
Without looking away from Shuuji, a seductive smirk curving his lips, Ranpo says, “I hope you’re not busy, Dazai.”
“By all means,” Dazai shoots back, throwing his
hands up, “take your time. I don’t have anything to do today, so go ahead. Flirt all you like.”
“Great,” Ranpo responds, taking a step closer to Shuuji. He’s a few inches shorter than him, but he doesn’t look intimidated in the least. He /also/ looks like he’s about to take
“Great,” Ranpo responds, taking a step closer to Shuuji. He’s a few inches shorter than him, but he doesn’t look intimidated in the least. He /also/ looks like he’s about to take
Dazai’s sarcasm at face-value and continue to flirt with his son /right/ in front of him.
Asshole.
“What do you want, Ranpo?” Dazai sighs, thoroughly exhausted already. They haven’t even gotten to whatever reason he’s /actually/ here for, and Dazai feels like hems going to
Asshole.
“What do you want, Ranpo?” Dazai sighs, thoroughly exhausted already. They haven’t even gotten to whatever reason he’s /actually/ here for, and Dazai feels like hems going to
turn to /dust/.
“I’m here on business.”
Oh, good. Lovely. That’s /exactly/ what Dazai wanted to hear. That the business whose second-in-command is hellbent on putting Dazai behind bars, wants to do /business/ with him.
There’s a /reason/ Dazai doesn’t do business with the
“I’m here on business.”
Oh, good. Lovely. That’s /exactly/ what Dazai wanted to hear. That the business whose second-in-command is hellbent on putting Dazai behind bars, wants to do /business/ with him.
There’s a /reason/ Dazai doesn’t do business with the
ADA. Kunikida is /annoying/ and also pretty good at his job, enough that he’s almost caught Dazai twice now. Ranpo could catch him whenever he wanted, as evidenced by the way he showed up to his house that isn’t on any official records.
Also, crime tends to get a little /messy/
Also, crime tends to get a little /messy/
when you’re dealing with detectives and policemen. He’d rather not deal with it at all.
“And if I refuse?”
“Then,” Ranpo says, shooting him a grin over his shoulder, “I’m going to tell every one of your dirty little secrets to Kunikida. I’m sure he’d love to know.”
Checkmate.
“And if I refuse?”
“Then,” Ranpo says, shooting him a grin over his shoulder, “I’m going to tell every one of your dirty little secrets to Kunikida. I’m sure he’d love to know.”
Checkmate.
He has no doubt that Ranpo knows a decent amount of his aliases, if not most or even all of them. If Kunikida gets his hands on /those/ names, he’ll be able to track Dazai anywhere.
Aliases,especially good ones,are a /pain/ to build. They require years of background information,
Aliases,especially good ones,are a /pain/ to build. They require years of background information,
hacking into government records to plant records, people to collaborate your story, photos, /dozens/ of things that require money and time and effort.
Like he said, they’re a pain. He can’t afford to lose a good chunk of the ones he has in one go.
“Fine,” he gives in, “We can
Like he said, they’re a pain. He can’t afford to lose a good chunk of the ones he has in one go.
“Fine,” he gives in, “We can
talk in my office. Kids,” he looks at Shuuji and Chuuya, ignoring the way Chuuya’s expression falls into outraged offense, “get to your studying.”
He’s never spoken to Chuuya like that, highlighting how young and inexperienced he is mockingly, and he doesn’t even like doing so
He’s never spoken to Chuuya like that, highlighting how young and inexperienced he is mockingly, and he doesn’t even like doing so
now, but he’s /hoping/ that if he isn’t /obvious/ about how head-over-heels he is for Chuuya, Ranpo might overlook him a little bit.
Probably a false hope, but he’s also still angry and petty enough about their argument that it gives him spiteful pleasure to treat Chuuya like
Probably a false hope, but he’s also still angry and petty enough about their argument that it gives him spiteful pleasure to treat Chuuya like
one of Shuuji’s friends instead of his boyfriend.
/That’s what you wanted, right? You didn’t want anyone to know you were mine, right?/
He will feel bad about it, and he’ll apologize for it later—
But right now, he has /business/.
Ranpo gives Shuuji an appraising look
/That’s what you wanted, right? You didn’t want anyone to know you were mine, right?/
He will feel bad about it, and he’ll apologize for it later—
But right now, he has /business/.
Ranpo gives Shuuji an appraising look
as he comes down the stairs fully, sizing up how tall he actually is. Shuuji did take after Dazai in that regard, and he’s taller than /most/ of the Japanese population, and quite a bit taller than Ranpo.
Apparently, /tall/ is his type, because Ranpo gives him an exaggerated
Apparently, /tall/ is his type, because Ranpo gives him an exaggerated
wink and a smirk full of sharp white teeth before he bounds up the stairs.
Dazai feels the weight of Chuuya’s (rightly) infuriated glare on his back the entire way up.
Because he intended to work from home today, his office has been left open. Ranpo has already found it and
Dazai feels the weight of Chuuya’s (rightly) infuriated glare on his back the entire way up.
Because he intended to work from home today, his office has been left open. Ranpo has already found it and
is poking around inside. As usual, the man has no respect for privacy and opens whatever drawer or folder he finds interesting, taking down one of his knives to test the blade on it with his thumb.
“Sharp,” he notes, rubbing the resulting smear of blood between his thumb and
“Sharp,” he notes, rubbing the resulting smear of blood between his thumb and
index finger. At least he’s respectful enough to clean the blade with a napkin he pulls out of one of his pockets before flipping the knife around in one quick, skilled motion before hanging it back on the wall.
“Of course,” Dazai grumbles, heading for the whiskey tumblers he
“Of course,” Dazai grumbles, heading for the whiskey tumblers he
keeps in this room for these exact type of days, “I wouldn’t keep dull weapons around.”
The gun still tucked in his waistband gets taken out and placed gently onto the desk. He won’t need it, and even if he did, Ranpo could probably disarm him before he could even start to aim.
The gun still tucked in his waistband gets taken out and placed gently onto the desk. He won’t need it, and even if he did, Ranpo could probably disarm him before he could even start to aim.
He pours himself a generous glass, throwing it back in one smooth swallow and savoring the burn of it. Warmth curls in his belly, comforting and familiar.
He pours himself another glass, one to sip on this time. Holding up the whiskey bottle, he silently asks if Ranpo wants a
He pours himself another glass, one to sip on this time. Holding up the whiskey bottle, he silently asks if Ranpo wants a
glass for himself.
Dropping heavily into the chair next to his desk, Ranpo wrinkled his nose in disapproval. “Do you have peach-flavored vodka? Or Schnapps?”
Dazai stares at him for a long moment, waiting for him to start laughing or take back the joke because—
Who just
Dropping heavily into the chair next to his desk, Ranpo wrinkled his nose in disapproval. “Do you have peach-flavored vodka? Or Schnapps?”
Dazai stares at him for a long moment, waiting for him to start laughing or take back the joke because—
Who just
drinks peach-flavored alcohol just /because/? Not as a mixer and not because it’s the only alcohol available, but because he actually /enjoys/ it?
“No.”
Sighing heavily, like Dazai /offended/ him by not having disgusting liquor in his house, Ranpo shakes his head. “Keep your
“No.”
Sighing heavily, like Dazai /offended/ him by not having disgusting liquor in his house, Ranpo shakes his head. “Keep your
gross whiskey.”
Alright, fine, more for him. Ranpo is probably a pain to deal with when he’s drunk anyways.
“So,” Dazai starts, settling into his own chair and relaxing into it. He really wishes he had a cigar right now. “What can I do for the Agency?”
“You can get the city
Alright, fine, more for him. Ranpo is probably a pain to deal with when he’s drunk anyways.
“So,” Dazai starts, settling into his own chair and relaxing into it. He really wishes he had a cigar right now. “What can I do for the Agency?”
“You can get the city
back under control and get those rampaging gang members off my streets,” Ranpo says, his gaze turning abruptly cutting. He’s still relaxed, one foot kicked up on the desk disrespectfully, but his tone is pure business.
Dazai arches an eyebrow. Admittedly, he has been aware of
Dazai arches an eyebrow. Admittedly, he has been aware of
the escalating violence as tensions between the Mafia and Fyodor’s Bratva grew, but he’s not sure what that has to do with him. He’s not a part of either group, and he’s not encouraging any infighting. “I’m not sure why you think I can stop that. I’m not a part of the Mafia, and
I don’t have any power over them.”
There’s a pad of post it notes on his desk, and Ranpo reaches over to drag it closer. He rips off the top sheet and begins to fold it carefully. “We both know that the man with the information is the most powerful man in the room. You’re the
There’s a pad of post it notes on his desk, and Ranpo reaches over to drag it closer. He rips off the top sheet and begins to fold it carefully. “We both know that the man with the information is the most powerful man in the room. You’re the
king of this city; act like it and get your people under control before they start pissing me off.”
“Do I look like a king to you, Ranpo-san?” Dazai snorts, taking another sip of his drink.
Another fold of the paper, precise and perfect. “Yes, you do. Everything that happens
“Do I look like a king to you, Ranpo-san?” Dazai snorts, taking another sip of his drink.
Another fold of the paper, precise and perfect. “Yes, you do. Everything that happens
in the city, you know about it. You answer to no one, not even tradition. You have the leaders of the clans under your control, /your/ influence. You decide what they know, how they act. You own them, because you have what they want, what they need."
The most infuriating thing
The most infuriating thing
about that whole speech is that when he says it like /that/, it's true. When he makes information peddling into a /kings/ role instead of a duty given to the lower ranking members--
That would make Dazai the king.
He curls his lip at Ranpo, irritated. "I left the Mafia life
That would make Dazai the king.
He curls his lip at Ranpo, irritated. "I left the Mafia life
years ago, you know that."
Another couple of folds, and the shape of what Ranpo is making begins to reveal itself. A fortune teller, one of those mini ones that go on the tip of your fingers and you can write short notes on the inside flaps. "You know, I /might/ believe you,"
Another couple of folds, and the shape of what Ranpo is making begins to reveal itself. A fortune teller, one of those mini ones that go on the tip of your fingers and you can write short notes on the inside flaps. "You know, I /might/ believe you,"
Ranpo says, not looking at him as he places the origami on his fingertips and begins to play with it, "except when you came back, you made sure that you had so much power and influence that you didn't have to answer to /anyone/, didn't you?"
It wasn't /like/ that. It wasn't out
It wasn't /like/ that. It wasn't out
of a desire for /power/ or position, it was about /survival/. If he wanted power, he could've gone back to the Mafia. He still could, technically.
He just wanted to /survive/.
"I didn't have a choice, Ranpo. This was the only thing I could go to keep me and my own safe."
He just wanted to /survive/.
"I didn't have a choice, Ranpo. This was the only thing I could go to keep me and my own safe."
Ranpo points the tips of the origami fortune teller at him. "That's where you're wrong. You could've gone to Fukuzawa for protection. He would've pardoned you, given you a job. We could've been coworkers."
Coworkers with /this/ menace. The city would probably not survive them.
Coworkers with /this/ menace. The city would probably not survive them.
"That wouldn't have worked for long," Dazai mutters, getting up to pour himself another drink. His stomach is warm now, but something in his chest feels empty.
"You don't know that. And if you had been with us, we would fight for you."
Back turned to Ranpo, Dazai pauses.
"You don't know that. And if you had been with us, we would fight for you."
Back turned to Ranpo, Dazai pauses.
Loyalty is not something that is encouraged in the Mafia, not under Mori's reign. In the old boss's opinion, having loyalty to anything other than him or the Mafia as a whole was a /danger/. If he suspected that you loved someone, or you needed something, then he would
systematically destroy it and make you watch.
The only reason Yosano and Odasaku survived the Mafia for as long as they did with him, was because they were all too valuable to kill, and they were careful to act like rivals whenever someone from the mafia was watching.
Either
The only reason Yosano and Odasaku survived the Mafia for as long as they did with him, was because they were all too valuable to kill, and they were careful to act like rivals whenever someone from the mafia was watching.
Either
way, Mori made /certain/ that Dazai was isolated and trapped beneath his influence. His manipulations work best when his victim is alone and vulnerable.
Dazai hasn't had anyone fight for him. Even now, with Mori dead and gone, he can barely get Oda and Yosano to answer his calls
Dazai hasn't had anyone fight for him. Even now, with Mori dead and gone, he can barely get Oda and Yosano to answer his calls
on a consistent, regular basis.
Feels pretty shitty that just Ranpo's words about it have a pang of loneliness and disbelief shooting through his chest.
"Anyways," he says after a bit, not wanting to talk about what could have been anymore, "I still don't know what you want me
Feels pretty shitty that just Ranpo's words about it have a pang of loneliness and disbelief shooting through his chest.
"Anyways," he says after a bit, not wanting to talk about what could have been anymore, "I still don't know what you want me
to do about the fighting."
The glass he pours is a little bigger than the second one, but he feels like he deserves it after the absurd day he's had. It's not even near over yet, because now that he's not /angry/, he's starting to feel guilty about the way he treated the
The glass he pours is a little bigger than the second one, but he feels like he deserves it after the absurd day he's had. It's not even near over yet, because now that he's not /angry/, he's starting to feel guilty about the way he treated the
situation with Chuuya. He could've handled it better.
"It's easy," Ranpo shrugs, stealing a pen from his desk and opening his origami to write something in the middle, "Pick one to side with, and starve the other out. Deprive them of information, of work, of everything that you
"It's easy," Ranpo shrugs, stealing a pen from his desk and opening his origami to write something in the middle, "Pick one to side with, and starve the other out. Deprive them of information, of work, of everything that you
have at your disposal. Choose who your loyalty belongs to."
His /loyalty/ doesn't extend to anyone beyond a select group of people (one of which is still in this house), but he understands what he means. "Fine. I'll see what I can do. Now, tell me what's in it for you."
The
His /loyalty/ doesn't extend to anyone beyond a select group of people (one of which is still in this house), but he understands what he means. "Fine. I'll see what I can do. Now, tell me what's in it for you."
The
curl of Ranpo's lips is /pleased/, like Dazai is fufilling his expectations wonderfully. "Naturally, I can't be helping you for /free/. That's just bad business, you know how it is."
Considering Ranpo has done nothing but give him a headache today, and won't do anything in the
Considering Ranpo has done nothing but give him a headache today, and won't do anything in the
future about 'their' problem, Dazai /doesn't/ know how it is. But he also understands that Ranpo is a petty little thing, and he'll milk this excuse to get whatever he wants out of Dazai.
"So, in return for not telling Kunikida all of your dirty little secrets and letting him
"So, in return for not telling Kunikida all of your dirty little secrets and letting him
know where you live so he can show up with handcuffs," Ranpo wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Dazai stares at him, deadpan, forcibly fighting back a smile. "You're going to give me whatever information I ask for, whenever I ask for it. It probably won't be often, because your
network is slow /and/ stupid most of the time, but who knows. I might need something some day."
Surprisingly, that's not a /terrible/ deal, nothing he wasn't expecting--
"And I also want your son."
Ah, he spoke too soon, apparently. There's the catch.
"Like as a hostage?"
Surprisingly, that's not a /terrible/ deal, nothing he wasn't expecting--
"And I also want your son."
Ah, he spoke too soon, apparently. There's the catch.
"Like as a hostage?"
"What? No, not as a hostage, you idiot," Ranpo replies, looking at him like he's lost his mind. "I just want to play with him."
Dazai is /pretty/ certain Ranpo 'plays' in the same clubs he does, so he can pick up what he means. "...Are you sure you don't want him as a hostage?"
Dazai is /pretty/ certain Ranpo 'plays' in the same clubs he does, so he can pick up what he means. "...Are you sure you don't want him as a hostage?"
"I'm not taking your son as a hostage, not even if you beg me."
Damn.
"I'm just saying it's an /option/--" Dazai says, cutting himself off under Ranpo's withering glare. "Fine, I guess, but he doesn't know anything about me or my work that you don't already know. He's useless
Damn.
"I'm just saying it's an /option/--" Dazai says, cutting himself off under Ranpo's withering glare. "Fine, I guess, but he doesn't know anything about me or my work that you don't already know. He's useless
if you're looking to squeeze him for information."
Ranpo's eyes glint,expression dissolving into something like smug self-satisfaction. "No,I'm looking to squeeze him in other ways--."
"Nope,"Dazai interrupts,taking a large gulp of whiskey, "You're not finishing that sentence."
Ranpo's eyes glint,expression dissolving into something like smug self-satisfaction. "No,I'm looking to squeeze him in other ways--."
"Nope,"Dazai interrupts,taking a large gulp of whiskey, "You're not finishing that sentence."
Ranpo sticks his tongue out at him, teasing.
He's sure he might regret this at /some/ point, because if Ranpo is going to be ...involved with his son, then they'll probably be seeing a lot more of each other, but fine. "Just don't do anything crazy with him, like get him
He's sure he might regret this at /some/ point, because if Ranpo is going to be ...involved with his son, then they'll probably be seeing a lot more of each other, but fine. "Just don't do anything crazy with him, like get him
arrested or anything. It'd be a pain to bail him out, and I'm pretty sure he'd cry."
White teeth flash in a grin, and Ranpo's boot finally slides off his desk back to the floor. "He's safe in my hands, don't you worry."
Personally, that sounds like the /opposite/ idea of 'safe'
White teeth flash in a grin, and Ranpo's boot finally slides off his desk back to the floor. "He's safe in my hands, don't you worry."
Personally, that sounds like the /opposite/ idea of 'safe'
to Dazai, but hey. Shuuji's an adult. He can make his own decisions.
If he wants to put himself between Ranpo's teeth and expect to come out the same cocky, arrogant person he was before, then a lesson must be learned.
"So we have a deal? I will do my best to fix the problems
If he wants to put himself between Ranpo's teeth and expect to come out the same cocky, arrogant person he was before, then a lesson must be learned.
"So we have a deal? I will do my best to fix the problems
in the streets, you won't tell Kunikida about me. I give you information when you need it, you get to chase after my son to your hearts content."
Ranpo seems to think about it, clearly considering if he should add more terms to the roster. After a moment, he shrugs. "Yeah, we
Ranpo seems to think about it, clearly considering if he should add more terms to the roster. After a moment, he shrugs. "Yeah, we
have a deal. Pleasure doing business with you, as always."
They've never business before, but he appreciates the sentiment, he supposes. "Likewise."
Brushing off his sleeves, Ranpo stands up with a yawning stretch. His little origami fortune teller is left discarded on Dazai's
They've never business before, but he appreciates the sentiment, he supposes. "Likewise."
Brushing off his sleeves, Ranpo stands up with a yawning stretch. His little origami fortune teller is left discarded on Dazai's
desk. "I'll be going now. The train I need leaves soon, I think."
"Sure," he responds, swirling his drink and feeling off-center because this is the /strangest/ deal he's ever participated in. "I'll talk to you later, I'm guessing."
Ranpo winks at him, shoving his hands into
"Sure," he responds, swirling his drink and feeling off-center because this is the /strangest/ deal he's ever participated in. "I'll talk to you later, I'm guessing."
Ranpo winks at him, shoving his hands into
pockets and strolling out.
Dazai is left there, drinking as he thinks--
God, what a crazy fucking day. He doesn't even know /how/ to feel about it, all he knows is that he's /confused/ and angry and hurt and on his way to tipsy and--
He needs a run to clear his head. Clear
Dazai is left there, drinking as he thinks--
God, what a crazy fucking day. He doesn't even know /how/ to feel about it, all he knows is that he's /confused/ and angry and hurt and on his way to tipsy and--
He needs a run to clear his head. Clear
his head so he can /think/ for a moment and not just /react/.
He changes into his workout clothes quickly, fueled by an increasing need to just /run/. Get away from it all. Head into the sunset and never look back, because it's /so/ hard being here, all the time, and the work
He changes into his workout clothes quickly, fueled by an increasing need to just /run/. Get away from it all. Head into the sunset and never look back, because it's /so/ hard being here, all the time, and the work
/never/ ends, there's always /more/.
(By the time he gets downstairs, Ranpo and Shuuji have already left. Chuuya is lingering awkwardly in the kitchen, looking uncertain and /sad/.
Dazai hates that, hates that he /caused/ that.
When he approaches, Chuuya doesn't even move,
(By the time he gets downstairs, Ranpo and Shuuji have already left. Chuuya is lingering awkwardly in the kitchen, looking uncertain and /sad/.
Dazai hates that, hates that he /caused/ that.
When he approaches, Chuuya doesn't even move,
big blue eyes staring up at him like he's expecting him to yell at him. Like he's expecting a fight that ends in tears and sadness.
Oh, poor baby, he really did scare him, didn't he?
Dazai takes a deep breath, rocking back on his heels a little bit. "I," he starts, "am very
Oh, poor baby, he really did scare him, didn't he?
Dazai takes a deep breath, rocking back on his heels a little bit. "I," he starts, "am very
upset right now, for a lot of reasons. If we talk right now, I'm going to get angry again, and I don't want to be angry with you. So I'm going to go for a run, and we can talk when I get back, okay?"
Chuuya searches his face, looking for a clue of what he's thinking. When he
Chuuya searches his face, looking for a clue of what he's thinking. When he
speaks, his voice is quiet and heart-breakingly soft, like he's afraid to speak up too loudly. "Okay."
They stand there for a while, staring at each other and waiting for the other to make a move--
Dazai breaks first, because he can't /stand/ the look on his face right now.
They stand there for a while, staring at each other and waiting for the other to make a move--
Dazai breaks first, because he can't /stand/ the look on his face right now.
Reaching out, he cups the back of Chuuya's neck and brings him in to give him a firm, lingering kiss on his forehead. The way Chuuya clings to him, fingers tight on his biceps, shows that he's clearly not the only one who needed a little reassurance.
"Ill be back," he mutters
"Ill be back," he mutters
against his forehead, filling his voice with reassurance. "Promise."
After another moment, he turns to leave and doesn't look back.)
(Chuuya is left there staring after him and--
Have you ever come back to a place that /used/ to be home and isn't anymore? Doesn't it feel cold
After another moment, he turns to leave and doesn't look back.)
(Chuuya is left there staring after him and--
Have you ever come back to a place that /used/ to be home and isn't anymore? Doesn't it feel cold
and lonely, and strange?
Like you're supposed to be there anymore?)
----- +
TEN MINUTES EARLIER
Shuuji has decided that Chuuya is fucking /shit/ at explaining statistics. Either he doesn't know what he's talking about, or he just can't explain it in a way that sticks.
Like you're supposed to be there anymore?)
----- +
TEN MINUTES EARLIER
Shuuji has decided that Chuuya is fucking /shit/ at explaining statistics. Either he doesn't know what he's talking about, or he just can't explain it in a way that sticks.
Or maybe it's because Shuuji's mind is running circles around the green-eyed detective speaking with his dad upstairs, and he couldn't give a fuck about what Chuuya is saying right now.
He wouldn't say that he has a type. Usually, he just chases after whoever gets his attention
He wouldn't say that he has a type. Usually, he just chases after whoever gets his attention
until he gets bored of them and finds someone new.
Chuuya was like that. He's not attractive /himself/, per se, but he's cute because he doesn't really look like anyone else Shuuji has met. The red hair is sexy, but Chuuya himself?
Too hard working, too /bland/. Boring. Not
Chuuya was like that. He's not attractive /himself/, per se, but he's cute because he doesn't really look like anyone else Shuuji has met. The red hair is sexy, but Chuuya himself?
Too hard working, too /bland/. Boring. Not
even a challenge, either. All Shuuji has to do is send him some pleading eyes, and he gives him whatever he wants.
Which is fun, in the short term, but it doesn't keep his interest.
Case in point, he really wishes Chuuya would go home already, because he /really/ wants to get
Which is fun, in the short term, but it doesn't keep his interest.
Case in point, he really wishes Chuuya would go home already, because he /really/ wants to get
to know that detective better. /He/ looked like a challenge, with those sharp, piercing grins eyes and the cocky grin.
He look like he might be /fun/ to play with.
"Are you even listening?" Chuuya asks, exasperated. He's been alternating between looking so livid he might catch
He look like he might be /fun/ to play with.
"Are you even listening?" Chuuya asks, exasperated. He's been alternating between looking so livid he might catch
on fire, and screwing up his face like he's fighting off the urge to cry.
Shuuji might've cared earlier, but he's preoccupied now. "Not really."
Before Chuuya can respond to /that/-- it'd be a tirade, Shuuji can already sense it by the look of his face-- /Ranpo/ comes bouncing
Shuuji might've cared earlier, but he's preoccupied now. "Not really."
Before Chuuya can respond to /that/-- it'd be a tirade, Shuuji can already sense it by the look of his face-- /Ranpo/ comes bouncing
down the stairs again.
He looks pleased with himself, like the ‘business’ deal went well—
And he’s also /staring/ at Shuuji, who is sitting leisurely on the floor, one elbow braced on the living room table.
Suddenly, homework doesn’t matter anymore. He’s only gotten through
He looks pleased with himself, like the ‘business’ deal went well—
And he’s also /staring/ at Shuuji, who is sitting leisurely on the floor, one elbow braced on the living room table.
Suddenly, homework doesn’t matter anymore. He’s only gotten through
one problem today, and the homework is due tomorrow morning—
But fuck that, he doesn’t care about /that/ anymore, the only thing he cares about is Ranpo staring him down as he casually skirts around the couch and comes closer.
He’s heard some of the girls gossiping about what
But fuck that, he doesn’t care about /that/ anymore, the only thing he cares about is Ranpo staring him down as he casually skirts around the couch and comes closer.
He’s heard some of the girls gossiping about what
it felt like to have a crush. To have a heart-pounding, butterfly-inducing, adrenaline-filled obsession with someone, and how much better it felt if your infatuation was returned.
Personally, Shuuji thought they were just being dramatic or maybe emotional, because he’s /never/
Personally, Shuuji thought they were just being dramatic or maybe emotional, because he’s /never/
felt that way, not for a significant amount of time.
Sure, finding someone he liked and was attracted to was exciting. Chasing them was fun, but as soon as he /got/ their attention and was holding it—
There must be something wrong with him, because as soon as he had them, all
Sure, finding someone he liked and was attracted to was exciting. Chasing them was fun, but as soon as he /got/ their attention and was holding it—
There must be something wrong with him, because as soon as he had them, all
those feelings went away.
And he /hated/ it, because /he/ wanted to feel special to someone, he wanted to feel loved and cherished, he wanted what all those other couples had.
Instead, all he had was a hollow ache of loneliness inside of him, and the increasingly desperate
And he /hated/ it, because /he/ wanted to feel special to someone, he wanted to feel loved and cherished, he wanted what all those other couples had.
Instead, all he had was a hollow ache of loneliness inside of him, and the increasingly desperate
desire to fill that hole with something, /anything/.
He went through guys and girls as quickly as he needed to, hoping that this one, that one, the /next/ one would /finally/ be able to make him feel something real and /solid/. Would prove to him that life wasn’t meant to be a
He went through guys and girls as quickly as he needed to, hoping that this one, that one, the /next/ one would /finally/ be able to make him feel something real and /solid/. Would prove to him that life wasn’t meant to be a
endless, wandering trail of starvation and pain.
And when it didn’t work— it never worked, it /never/ fucking worked— he got mad at his /partners/ about it. Getting angry with them and pushing them away was much easier than admitting the fault lay within himself.
Because if
And when it didn’t work— it never worked, it /never/ fucking worked— he got mad at his /partners/ about it. Getting angry with them and pushing them away was much easier than admitting the fault lay within himself.
Because if
he admitted there was something /wrong/ with him then—
Then he would be a freak, right? And if he was a /freak/ then...
Then it would make sense why his father never wanted him, and his mother barely even looked at him as he was growing up. Then it would be /reasonable/. Then
Then he would be a freak, right? And if he was a /freak/ then...
Then it would make sense why his father never wanted him, and his mother barely even looked at him as he was growing up. Then it would be /reasonable/. Then
he couldn’t be mad about it, because that’s what he /deserved/.
And if that’s what he deserved, then—
// “Oh, stop crying, Shuji. Mommy’s /busy/, you don’t need to be such a dramatic little crybaby about it. //
Then his mother was right, and he /was/ just being dramatic. He
And if that’s what he deserved, then—
// “Oh, stop crying, Shuji. Mommy’s /busy/, you don’t need to be such a dramatic little crybaby about it. //
Then his mother was right, and he /was/ just being dramatic. He
was just looking for /attention/, because nothing he had was ever /good enough/ for him.
And well, if his parents weren’t going to pay attention to him of their own volitions, and if people were going to hate him anyways because he was a /freak/ then—
Might as well give them
And well, if his parents weren’t going to pay attention to him of their own volitions, and if people were going to hate him anyways because he was a /freak/ then—
Might as well give them
a /reason/ then, right? Might as well become the biggest asshole he could, because if they hated him because he was being a dick?
That was fine.
If they hated him simply because of who he was? He couldn’t handle that.
There’s always been a writhing ball of anger and pain and
That was fine.
If they hated him simply because of who he was? He couldn’t handle that.
There’s always been a writhing ball of anger and pain and
hatred inside of him, and he doesn’t know what to do with it besides ignore it. Hope that it goes away some day.
It feels gone now, because right now he’s being /pinned/ by a pair of icy-sharp green eyes that cut through him like a knife and seem to see all the way through him.
It feels gone now, because right now he’s being /pinned/ by a pair of icy-sharp green eyes that cut through him like a knife and seem to see all the way through him.
And he’s expecting a frown, a snarl, something visceral to show displeasure because—
He /must/ know, right, he must see it, he must see that there’s something wrong with him, he /has/ to see it—
But instead, Ranpo smiles. Sharp and white and arrogant and /enthralling.
He /must/ know, right, he must see it, he must see that there’s something wrong with him, he /has/ to see it—
But instead, Ranpo smiles. Sharp and white and arrogant and /enthralling.
“I’m going home,” he says, placing his hands on his hips, and leaning in a little until Shuuji feels like his whole world is green and white and self-assurance. “You’re going to give me a ride.”
It’s not a question, but even if it /was/—
There’s only one answer. “Yeah,” he
It’s not a question, but even if it /was/—
There’s only one answer. “Yeah,” he
breathes, feeling like all the air in the room has been sucked out.
His reward is a bigger smile and a conspiratorial wink.
“Sorry, Chuuya,” the detective says in a voice that doesn’t /sound/ very remorseful, “I’m taking your study date. I’m sure you can find something to do
His reward is a bigger smile and a conspiratorial wink.
“Sorry, Chuuya,” the detective says in a voice that doesn’t /sound/ very remorseful, “I’m taking your study date. I’m sure you can find something to do
in the meantime, though.”
(The innuendo in his voice is strong enough to have Chuuya flushing and ducking his head awkwardly and—
If Shuuji had been paying attention at /all/, he would’ve figured it out now.
This would’ve been a kinder fate.
But he’s not paying attention.
(The innuendo in his voice is strong enough to have Chuuya flushing and ducking his head awkwardly and—
If Shuuji had been paying attention at /all/, he would’ve figured it out now.
This would’ve been a kinder fate.
But he’s not paying attention.
None of them are.
The clock is ticking and no one is listening.
Not even Ranpo could’ve predicted what comes ahead, for all of them.
But the lesson remains the same:
Ignore the countdown of a bomb long enough, and eventually the consequences will be fatal for everyone.)
The clock is ticking and no one is listening.
Not even Ranpo could’ve predicted what comes ahead, for all of them.
But the lesson remains the same:
Ignore the countdown of a bomb long enough, and eventually the consequences will be fatal for everyone.)
Shuuji doesn’t even remember to say goodbye before pocketing his keys and following Ranpo outside to the car.
Anxiety isn’t really something he feels often, but he’s feeling it /now/.
He has to /impress/ Ranpo. He doesn’t know why he feels like he /needs/ to, like he won’t
Anxiety isn’t really something he feels often, but he’s feeling it /now/.
He has to /impress/ Ranpo. He doesn’t know why he feels like he /needs/ to, like he won’t
/survive/ if Ranpo doesn’t think highly of him.
He’s /nervous/ and when he’s nervous—
“Your driving sucks,” Ranpo says, straight faced and calm as he leans hard in his seat.
Admittedly, Shuuji /did/ take that turn too quickly, but he feels like he’s all heartbeat right now,
He’s /nervous/ and when he’s nervous—
“Your driving sucks,” Ranpo says, straight faced and calm as he leans hard in his seat.
Admittedly, Shuuji /did/ take that turn too quickly, but he feels like he’s all heartbeat right now,
pulse pounding in his fingertips and his toes and in his ears. How is he supposed to listen to speed limits right now??
“I’ve never been in an accident that was my fault,” Shuuji grumbles, slowing down a little to be /considerate/.
“Do you think that makes you a good driver?”
“I’ve never been in an accident that was my fault,” Shuuji grumbles, slowing down a little to be /considerate/.
“Do you think that makes you a good driver?”
“Obviously? If I was a bad driver, then I’d have been in accidents. Logic,” Shuuji fires back. For some reason Ranpo’s comments feel like /teasing/.
“No, a bad driver would be going 20 over the speed limit, ignored a stop sign and ran a yellow light with a detective in the car.”
“No, a bad driver would be going 20 over the speed limit, ignored a stop sign and ran a yellow light with a detective in the car.”
Oh, well. Maybe he has a point there.
Shuuji shrugs, stopping for a stop sign and waiting there for a deliberately obnoxious amount of time. How’s /that/ for ignoring stop signs? “What are you going to do about it? Arrest me?”
Ranpo shrugs, a gleam in his eye. He has one
Shuuji shrugs, stopping for a stop sign and waiting there for a deliberately obnoxious amount of time. How’s /that/ for ignoring stop signs? “What are you going to do about it? Arrest me?”
Ranpo shrugs, a gleam in his eye. He has one
foot lifted up and braced against the dash. Normally Shuuji would be pissed off about shoes on his car,but from here he can see the hilt of a knife stuffed into his boot, and that is a /sight/, so he allows it. “I could, actually. Reckless endangerment. Slap you with a big fine.”
Fines mean nothing to him, not with how much Dazai makes. Fines are child’s play. “Wouldn’t you have to arrest me for that? I don’t see any cuffs on you.”
They’re nearing the address that Ranpo had plugged into Shuuji’s phone when they got into the car. It’s an apartment complex
They’re nearing the address that Ranpo had plugged into Shuuji’s phone when they got into the car. It’s an apartment complex
in one of the poorer sides of town, where the buildings are run down and the streets are ruled by orphan kids.
Shuuji doesn’t know why Ranpo lives there or why he wants to be dropped off there, because he’s assuming detectives make decent salaries. At least enough for a better
Shuuji doesn’t know why Ranpo lives there or why he wants to be dropped off there, because he’s assuming detectives make decent salaries. At least enough for a better
apartment in a better part of town.
Ranpo’s outfit is made out of decent material, and from what Shuuji can see of his boot-knife, it looks custom made. It has a special seal on the hilt, one he’s never seen before.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ranpo’s face tilt
Ranpo’s outfit is made out of decent material, and from what Shuuji can see of his boot-knife, it looks custom made. It has a special seal on the hilt, one he’s never seen before.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ranpo’s face tilt
towards him. His smile is amused this time. “You think I don’t have handcuffs on me?”
Ranpo’s belt, where cuffs are /usually/ hung, is empty. “I don’t see any.”
“Cute,” he snorts, “I /always/ have cuffs on me. You never know when you might need to restrain someone.”
The
Ranpo’s belt, where cuffs are /usually/ hung, is empty. “I don’t see any.”
“Cute,” he snorts, “I /always/ have cuffs on me. You never know when you might need to restrain someone.”
The
curl of his lips dissolves into something /suggestive/. Shuuji’s glad he’s looking back at the road now, because the side of his face feels like it’s burning from the weight of his gaze, and if he stared at him for much longer, he might drive them into a wall.
“Where are they
“Where are they
then?”
“Keep acting up, maybe you’ll find out.”
Oh. /Oh/.
Hands tightening on the wheel, Shuuji stares straight ahead, eyes wide. Usually it’s /him/ chasing his partner, being aggressively flirty, and not the other way around.
Surprisingly, it feels a /lot/ different to be
“Keep acting up, maybe you’ll find out.”
Oh. /Oh/.
Hands tightening on the wheel, Shuuji stares straight ahead, eyes wide. Usually it’s /him/ chasing his partner, being aggressively flirty, and not the other way around.
Surprisingly, it feels a /lot/ different to be
on the other side of things. Embarrassingly, he can feel his cheeks start to heat up and he’s left scrambling for a response.
Before he can though, Ranpo is pointing at small cafe in the first floor of a rundown building. “Drop me off there.”
He doesn’t give any explanation
Before he can though, Ranpo is pointing at small cafe in the first floor of a rundown building. “Drop me off there.”
He doesn’t give any explanation
even though they are still technically five minutes away from the address he plugged in.
Superstitiously, Shuuji clicks the child lock button on his door. He’s not stupid enough to /actually/ lock Ranpo in, but he just needs a few seconds longer, and this trick always works.
Superstitiously, Shuuji clicks the child lock button on his door. He’s not stupid enough to /actually/ lock Ranpo in, but he just needs a few seconds longer, and this trick always works.
There’s a little parking area half a block away from the building, and Shuuji maneuvers the car over there slowly. “So..” he starts, deciding to just go with the straightforward question, “Can I have your number?”
Ranpo barks out a laugh, his foot sliding down back to the floor.
Ranpo barks out a laugh, his foot sliding down back to the floor.
“No. If you have an emergency, you can call 119.”
“Not for /emergencies/, but to talk to you,” Shuuji says, rolling his eyes. There’s another car in the parking spot, so he has to drive in slowly so he can give Ranpo enough room to get out without hitting the car or the wall.
“Not for /emergencies/, but to talk to you,” Shuuji says, rolling his eyes. There’s another car in the parking spot, so he has to drive in slowly so he can give Ranpo enough room to get out without hitting the car or the wall.
“Oh, in /that/ case..,” Ranpo responds, pulling Shuuji’s phone off the car holder holds it to the dash. He opens up the contact app and starts punching in some numbers.
/Victory/. Hell yeah. Shuuji loves winning and getting what he wants.
When he’s done parking the car and it’s
/Victory/. Hell yeah. Shuuji loves winning and getting what he wants.
When he’s done parking the car and it’s
idling, he holds out his hand for his phone. When Ranpo is finished, he puts it into his palm and stares at him with a big, self-satisfied smile.
Normally Shuuji reserves /this/ move for the more shy people he asks out, or the ones that look like liars. He wasn’t going to do it
Normally Shuuji reserves /this/ move for the more shy people he asks out, or the ones that look like liars. He wasn’t going to do it
to Ranpo but—
He looks like he’s hiding something, like he pulled the wool over Shuuji’s eyes.
“Let me call it, make sure you didn’t accidentally give me the wrong number.”
The smile widens, and Ranpo says absolutely nothing as he watches Shuuji click on his contact and
He looks like he’s hiding something, like he pulled the wool over Shuuji’s eyes.
“Let me call it, make sure you didn’t accidentally give me the wrong number.”
The smile widens, and Ranpo says absolutely nothing as he watches Shuuji click on his contact and
brings the phone to his ear.
It rings once, twice, three times.
Ranpo’s phone, if he has one on him, never rings.
Instead, after another ring, the line clicks and a recording starts to play:
“Hey! If someone gave you this number, it’s because you’re a fucking creep who
It rings once, twice, three times.
Ranpo’s phone, if he has one on him, never rings.
Instead, after another ring, the line clicks and a recording starts to play:
“Hey! If someone gave you this number, it’s because you’re a fucking creep who
can’t take no for an answer! You should be ashamed of yourself!”
It’s obviously a pre-recording voicemail, but it’s /offensive/ and Shuuji opens his mouth to ask why the fuck Ranpo didn’t just tell him /no/ instead of embarrassing him like this, when—
With quick movements that
It’s obviously a pre-recording voicemail, but it’s /offensive/ and Shuuji opens his mouth to ask why the fuck Ranpo didn’t just tell him /no/ instead of embarrassing him like this, when—
With quick movements that
Shuuji can’t even follow, his left wrist gets handcuffed tightly to the steering wheel.
“What the /fuck/?” He hisses, yanking on the cuffs. They’re firm, locked right. Where did they even come from?
Ranpo leans in, close, closer—
His breath washes hotly over his ear, making
“What the /fuck/?” He hisses, yanking on the cuffs. They’re firm, locked right. Where did they even come from?
Ranpo leans in, close, closer—
His breath washes hotly over his ear, making
Shuuji stiffen in place.
“That’s for trying to lock me in,” he murmurs. Shuuji can feel his smile against his ear, self-satisfied and victorious.
God, /fuck/—
Then he reaches across his body and hits the child lock button again, unlocking the doors.
“See ya!” Ranpo says
“That’s for trying to lock me in,” he murmurs. Shuuji can feel his smile against his ear, self-satisfied and victorious.
God, /fuck/—
Then he reaches across his body and hits the child lock button again, unlocking the doors.
“See ya!” Ranpo says
cheerfully, not sounding at /all/ like the man who was just whispering sinfully into his ear as he slides out of the car.
Panic hits Shuuji abruptly, disorientating after the pulse of /excitement/ that he was just feeling. “Wait! You can’t just /leave/ me like this! How am I
Panic hits Shuuji abruptly, disorientating after the pulse of /excitement/ that he was just feeling. “Wait! You can’t just /leave/ me like this! How am I
supposed to drive like this?”
Ranpo spins around, looking back at him as he walks backwards. He shrugs at him. “Sounds like a you problem. I’m sure it won’t be much different than your regular, terrible driving.”
Shuuji yanks on the cuffs. They’re /real/ cuffs, not the play
Ranpo spins around, looking back at him as he walks backwards. He shrugs at him. “Sounds like a you problem. I’m sure it won’t be much different than your regular, terrible driving.”
Shuuji yanks on the cuffs. They’re /real/ cuffs, not the play
ones that have a hinge for the restrained person to get out of them with. They need /keys/, keys that Shuuji doesn’t /have/.
“How am I supposed to get out of these?!” He shouts at Ranpo’s retreating figure.
Another shrug, a wave of Ranpo’s hand. “Ask your dad to teach you how
“How am I supposed to get out of these?!” He shouts at Ranpo’s retreating figure.
Another shrug, a wave of Ranpo’s hand. “Ask your dad to teach you how
to break out of cuffs. It’s about time you learned.”
Then he’s /gone/, disappearing into the sunset and into his little cafe out of sight.
Shuuji is left there, staring after him, filled with opposing emotions because on /one/ hand—
/Fuck/ Ranpo. He can’t believe the little
Then he’s /gone/, disappearing into the sunset and into his little cafe out of sight.
Shuuji is left there, staring after him, filled with opposing emotions because on /one/ hand—
/Fuck/ Ranpo. He can’t believe the little
shit actually handcuffed him to his own car and /left/ him. The /audacity/ of the little fucker, and he didn’t even seem like he felt bad about it! He was /smug/, even, about humiliating him!
And on the /other/ hand—
/Oh my god, I think I’m in love./
—————— +
And on the /other/ hand—
/Oh my god, I think I’m in love./
—————— +
Because Chuuya is glumly throwing the ball for the dogs outside and wondering if he should just call a cab and go home, he doesn’t actually hear when Dazai comes back.
The first thing he hears that’s out of the ordinary is /uproariously/ loud laughter coming from outside the
The first thing he hears that’s out of the ordinary is /uproariously/ loud laughter coming from outside the
front door and when he goes to investigate—
He finds Dazai nearly on the /floor/ with laughter, tears gathering in his eyes as he laughs and laughs and laughs at Shuuji—
Who is handcuffed to his car and yelling at Dazai that it’s /not/ funny, looking nearly in tears himself.
He finds Dazai nearly on the /floor/ with laughter, tears gathering in his eyes as he laughs and laughs and laughs at Shuuji—
Who is handcuffed to his car and yelling at Dazai that it’s /not/ funny, looking nearly in tears himself.
And it /is/ pretty funny actually, and Chuuya ends up laughing too. Shuuji won’t say /why/ he’s cuffed, but considering he left with Ranpo, there’s only so many things that could’ve happened.
That leads to a very interesting lesson on how to pop the lock on a pair of handcuffs
That leads to a very interesting lesson on how to pop the lock on a pair of handcuffs
with a bobby pin. It’s more of a “learn it yourself” lesson because Dazai just gives the basic explanations and then laughs at Shuuji as he struggles one-handedly to get the cuff off.
Chuuya spends half of the time snickering at Shuuji’s mutterings to himself and the other half
Chuuya spends half of the time snickering at Shuuji’s mutterings to himself and the other half
trying not to stare at Dazai.
There’s still awkward tension between them, and Dazai is careful not to touch him when he shows Chuuya— this time much more thorough— how to break the lock when Shuuji finally frees himself.
It doesn’t feel /malicious/, just...cautious?
There’s still awkward tension between them, and Dazai is careful not to touch him when he shows Chuuya— this time much more thorough— how to break the lock when Shuuji finally frees himself.
It doesn’t feel /malicious/, just...cautious?
Respectful, maybe, because Shuuji is still around and they haven’t talked yet.
He doesn’t know where they stand. Part of him was reassured by the kiss Dazai dropped on his forehead, but the other part...
Is worried that this fight is the end.
He can see where Dazai is
He doesn’t know where they stand. Part of him was reassured by the kiss Dazai dropped on his forehead, but the other part...
Is worried that this fight is the end.
He can see where Dazai is
coming from, why he’s upset. He’s told Chuuya at least three times that he needs to get better at communicating, and every time he promises—
And then doesn’t follow through. He can see why that would be frustrating and insensitive—
Even worthy of breaking up with him.
And then doesn’t follow through. He can see why that would be frustrating and insensitive—
Even worthy of breaking up with him.
He can see that, and that /scares/ him because he doesn’t know what to /expect/ right now.
Dazai doesn’t seem /mad/ right now, but he doesn’t seem happy with him either. He doesn’t seem like anything right now, just calm.
Teaching them how to break out of handcuffs turns into
Dazai doesn’t seem /mad/ right now, but he doesn’t seem happy with him either. He doesn’t seem like anything right now, just calm.
Teaching them how to break out of handcuffs turns into
ordering in dinner.
Dazai goes to take a shower while they wait for it to arrive, and the /talk/ is put off for longer.
Then when the food /does/ arrive, Shuuji wants to watch a movie while they eat, and Dazai says he has a call he has to make and retreats to his office.
Dazai goes to take a shower while they wait for it to arrive, and the /talk/ is put off for longer.
Then when the food /does/ arrive, Shuuji wants to watch a movie while they eat, and Dazai says he has a call he has to make and retreats to his office.
Chuuya sits there, staring blankly at the TV screen, not watching the movie at all as a sick, curdling feeling in his stomach starts to grow. He can’t eat because of how bad he feels, stomach-turning fear and adrenaline making him nauseous.
It’s like being stuck in Purgatory,
It’s like being stuck in Purgatory,
waiting to be struck down in either way and /rotting/ with anticipation. Nervousness like festering ants in his veins, building up sick, agonizing homes in his stomach and chest.
Part of him wants to delay the conversation /forever/, even though this is the worst feeling ever,
Part of him wants to delay the conversation /forever/, even though this is the worst feeling ever,
because he doesn’t want to /know/ if it’s over.
If /they’re/ over.
He wants to go /back/, back to when things were happy and good and easy between them. Back to Osaka, back to this fucking morning so he could make better decisions that didn’t lead him /here/.
The other part
If /they’re/ over.
He wants to go /back/, back to when things were happy and good and easy between them. Back to Osaka, back to this fucking morning so he could make better decisions that didn’t lead him /here/.
The other part
of him just wants to get it /over/ with, because—
At least it will be done, then. At least it’ll be over. At least the waiting will stop.
Eventually, Shuuji heads up to his bedroom. He doesn’t offer Chuuya a blanket or a pillow or a ride home, he just says goodnight and leaves.
At least it will be done, then. At least it’ll be over. At least the waiting will stop.
Eventually, Shuuji heads up to his bedroom. He doesn’t offer Chuuya a blanket or a pillow or a ride home, he just says goodnight and leaves.
The darkness, lit for a long moment by the TV before it eventually goes to sleep and turns itself off, makes it worse.
There’s no distractions, then. There’s only thinking and thinking and thinking, wobbling between what to say when he apologizes to Dazai and thinking up
There’s no distractions, then. There’s only thinking and thinking and thinking, wobbling between what to say when he apologizes to Dazai and thinking up
arguments to use against him, and spinning himself into tiny, tangled up knots of anger and misery and pain.
Eventually, Chuuya gathers up his courage and his irritation and goes to find Dazai /himself/. He hasn’t come down from his office since he went up there for dinner, and
Eventually, Chuuya gathers up his courage and his irritation and goes to find Dazai /himself/. He hasn’t come down from his office since he went up there for dinner, and
he’s half-convinced he’s avoiding the conversation.
Also half-convinced that the door will be /locked/ when he tries it—
But it’s not.The knob twists easily under his hand and the door swings open.
It’s dark inside, lit up only by the ever-present red lights from Dazai’s room.
Also half-convinced that the door will be /locked/ when he tries it—
But it’s not.The knob twists easily under his hand and the door swings open.
It’s dark inside, lit up only by the ever-present red lights from Dazai’s room.
He ventures in, holding his breath to be as quiet as possible. It’s hard to see, but he can’t make out Dazai’s figure anywhere in the office.
He goes further, pushing open the bedroom door farther open lightly, poking his head inside—
A hand wraps around his arm and /yanks/.
He goes further, pushing open the bedroom door farther open lightly, poking his head inside—
A hand wraps around his arm and /yanks/.
His first instinct is to /scream/ and he very nearly does—
But then there’s another hand under his chin, tilting his face up so a mouth can cover his own.
It takes him barely a second to recognize the feel of the body pressed against his own, the shape of the mouth moving
But then there’s another hand under his chin, tilting his face up so a mouth can cover his own.
It takes him barely a second to recognize the feel of the body pressed against his own, the shape of the mouth moving
over his, tasting heavily of whiskey.
And—
They should talk. He knows that. Dazai /said/ they’d talk, and Chuuya wants to talk and they need to talk—
But giving in feels /so/ good, makes all the ugly butterflies made of rot and ruin disappear from his stomach. Makes the
And—
They should talk. He knows that. Dazai /said/ they’d talk, and Chuuya wants to talk and they need to talk—
But giving in feels /so/ good, makes all the ugly butterflies made of rot and ruin disappear from his stomach. Makes the
anxiety go away and replaces it with /pleasure/. Makes the nausea and the fear fade away.
Maybe it’s not /healthy/,but being pressed up against the wall with his legs around Dazai’s waist and his hands in his hair while a different set of hands fumbles at the button of his jeans
Maybe it’s not /healthy/,but being pressed up against the wall with his legs around Dazai’s waist and his hands in his hair while a different set of hands fumbles at the button of his jeans
feels /good/.
And after hours of feeling sick and twisted up inside, he just wants to feel good right now. Just wants to forget the ‘what if’s’ and live in the moment.
They can talk after, he promises himself, wiggling his hips to help get his jeans off. They’ll talk after.
And after hours of feeling sick and twisted up inside, he just wants to feel good right now. Just wants to forget the ‘what if’s’ and live in the moment.
They can talk after, he promises himself, wiggling his hips to help get his jeans off. They’ll talk after.
It’s rushed, frantic, desperate. Chuuya only gets his jeans off and Dazai doesn’t even pull his pants off, he just unzips them and tugs them down just far enough.
It feels like Dazai dumps half an entire bottle of lube into his palm before pushing his fingers inside him,
It feels like Dazai dumps half an entire bottle of lube into his palm before pushing his fingers inside him,
muffling his shocked keen by drawing him into a deeper, harder kiss.
It’s the roughest Dazai has ever been with him, and Chuuya /loves/ it. He’s half-drunk on the taste of whiskey on his tongue, shuddering whenever Dazai pushes him a little too far too quickly.
He /needs/ it,
It’s the roughest Dazai has ever been with him, and Chuuya /loves/ it. He’s half-drunk on the taste of whiskey on his tongue, shuddering whenever Dazai pushes him a little too far too quickly.
He /needs/ it,
needs the reassurance of how /much/ Dazai wants him, so much he can barely wait, so much they don’t even make it to the bed before he’s pulling back his three fingers and replacing them with his cock.
It’s /deep/ like this, like Dazai is fucking his /soul/, and Chuuya can’t
It’s /deep/ like this, like Dazai is fucking his /soul/, and Chuuya can’t
tell if the tears on his face are from the emotional release, the pleasure, the need, the tinge of pain, or the overwhelming combination of it all.
He’s clinging to Dazai, as hard as he can, digging his nails into his back to scratch him up, to leave his mark on him, to leave
He’s clinging to Dazai, as hard as he can, digging his nails into his back to scratch him up, to leave his mark on him, to leave
/something/ of himself on his body, a reminder.
/ Don’t leave, don’t leave me, don’t leave me behind, please, I’m /sorry/, I didn’t mean to, I need you—. /
He’s glad Dazai won’t stop kissing him, because it soothes the ache and because he’s not sure what he’d /say/ right now
/ Don’t leave, don’t leave me, don’t leave me behind, please, I’m /sorry/, I didn’t mean to, I need you—. /
He’s glad Dazai won’t stop kissing him, because it soothes the ache and because he’s not sure what he’d /say/ right now
if he could speak. Apologies or insults or gibberish nonsense as Dazai drives him towards the peak so quickly he feels dizzy with it.
It’s also the first time Dazai comes before him, and the satisfaction of feeling him twitch and spill inside him as he muffles groans against his
It’s also the first time Dazai comes before him, and the satisfaction of feeling him twitch and spill inside him as he muffles groans against his
mouth is contrasted sharply by the rampaging need still inside him because he’s not /done/.
He rocks his hips frantically, grinding forward against Dazai’s stomach and back on his softening erection, desperate for just a /little/ more friction, a little longer, a little more,
He rocks his hips frantically, grinding forward against Dazai’s stomach and back on his softening erection, desperate for just a /little/ more friction, a little longer, a little more,
/please/—
It’s easier once a hand closes around his cock and jerks him sloppily, rhythm nonexistent. Dazai’s hips are still rocking forward, fucking his cum back inside him.
The desperation of it all, the quick frantic rush and release, is enough to have him releasing a
It’s easier once a hand closes around his cock and jerks him sloppily, rhythm nonexistent. Dazai’s hips are still rocking forward, fucking his cum back inside him.
The desperation of it all, the quick frantic rush and release, is enough to have him releasing a
muffled cry as he orgasms.
For a moment, all there is is white-hot pleasure and electricity. He revels in it, breathes in rapture like oxygen, always searching for more, to feel /better/.
It fades all too quickly, and the emptiness that comes after feels colder than usual.
For a moment, all there is is white-hot pleasure and electricity. He revels in it, breathes in rapture like oxygen, always searching for more, to feel /better/.
It fades all too quickly, and the emptiness that comes after feels colder than usual.
Before he can come down too much, Dazai is taking his weight again and staggering over to the bed.
When they collapse onto it, it’s soft and warm and comforting. Dazai is heavy on top of him, forehead pressed to his shoulder and—
Chuuya could sleep. He could just fall asleep
When they collapse onto it, it’s soft and warm and comforting. Dazai is heavy on top of him, forehead pressed to his shoulder and—
Chuuya could sleep. He could just fall asleep
right here, like this, without a problem.
He could just fall, and dream that nothing ever happened and that they’re okay, and everything is perfect and fine.
He could do it. It’s tempting, more tempting than a lot of things he’s felt recently.
He could sleep, like this.
He could just fall, and dream that nothing ever happened and that they’re okay, and everything is perfect and fine.
He could do it. It’s tempting, more tempting than a lot of things he’s felt recently.
He could sleep, like this.
But then Dazai shifts on top of him, stretching out a little more, and Chuuya realizes that he /can’t/ leave things like this between them. He has to fix it.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, burying his fingers in his hair and tugging to make sure he’s listening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, burying his fingers in his hair and tugging to make sure he’s listening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t
know that not telling you would hurt you, but I should have known. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t want to talk about it because—,” he blows out a breath, trying to think.
This is harder than he thought it would be. He’s glad Dazai’s not looking at him, even though he can tell he’s
This is harder than he thought it would be. He’s glad Dazai’s not looking at him, even though he can tell he’s
listening by the way his thumb is stroking over his ribs. It’s silently encouraging, enough that Chuuya forges on ahead.
“Because I wasn’t sure what Shuuji was going to do. I was afraid that if he told our professors that they would think bad of me and it would hurt my
“Because I wasn’t sure what Shuuji was going to do. I was afraid that if he told our professors that they would think bad of me and it would hurt my
scholarships. And...” he trails off here for a second, swallowing hard. The strokes of his fingers through Dazai’s hair are comforting, a grounding rhythm. “I wanted to tell my family first, but you’re right. I should’ve talked to you first, and I should’ve told him. I /will/
tell him.”
There’s silence for a long moment, long enough that he’s half-afraid Dazai fell asleep on him—
Then Dazai is rolling off him, settling on his side right beside him instead. He props up his head with one of his hands, elbow on the bed. His eyes are huge and dark,
There’s silence for a long moment, long enough that he’s half-afraid Dazai fell asleep on him—
Then Dazai is rolling off him, settling on his side right beside him instead. He props up his head with one of his hands, elbow on the bed. His eyes are huge and dark,
fixed on his face with unwavering intensity.
“If you want to tell your family first, then you should absolutely tell them first. I meant what I said earlier; I don’t mind keeping us a secret if that’s what you think is better for you. I’m not /happy/ about it, but I want you to
“If you want to tell your family first, then you should absolutely tell them first. I meant what I said earlier; I don’t mind keeping us a secret if that’s what you think is better for you. I’m not /happy/ about it, but I want you to
be comfortable and happy more than anything else.”
His free hand comes up, skirting over the cooling mess on his stomach and curving over his side affectionately. He’s warm, familiar.
“And I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I was having a bad day and was upset for other
His free hand comes up, skirting over the cooling mess on his stomach and curving over his side affectionately. He’s warm, familiar.
“And I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I was having a bad day and was upset for other
reasons that didn’t have anything to do with you. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you, and I should’ve been more reasonable when it happened.”
Chuuya’s smile feels wobbly, a little /wet/. This is hard, but it’s also /so/ easy. “You didn’t yell.”
It’s true, Dazai never
Chuuya’s smile feels wobbly, a little /wet/. This is hard, but it’s also /so/ easy. “You didn’t yell.”
It’s true, Dazai never
raised his voice. If anything, his voice had /dropped/, turned into something seething and low.
“I know,” Dazai murmurs, petting over his side, “but I hurt you, and I didn’t want to. I’m sorry for that.”
The knot in Chuuya’s chest finally loosens, and he can take an
“I know,” Dazai murmurs, petting over his side, “but I hurt you, and I didn’t want to. I’m sorry for that.”
The knot in Chuuya’s chest finally loosens, and he can take an
unobstructed breath. He rolls over, turning into Dazai’s chest and wrapping his arms around his waist.
He clings on, pushing his leg between Dazai’s thighs to make sure they’re as intertwined as they could possibly be.
The hand on his side curves around to his back, large palm
He clings on, pushing his leg between Dazai’s thighs to make sure they’re as intertwined as they could possibly be.
The hand on his side curves around to his back, large palm
pressing beneath his shoulder blades and pulling him closer.
“I’ll be better now, I promise,” he mutters into his chest, muffled, “At talking, I mean. I didn’t really understand before, but I do now, and I’m going to try my best.”
Dazai’s chest rumbles under his ear as he
“I’ll be better now, I promise,” he mutters into his chest, muffled, “At talking, I mean. I didn’t really understand before, but I do now, and I’m going to try my best.”
Dazai’s chest rumbles under his ear as he
speaks again. “I believe you, doll.”
He hasn’t heard /that/ one in a while, and his cheeks start to heat up at the nickname.
Now that all the anxiety is starting to fade and most of the emotions have been burnt out by sex, Chuuya is starting to feel exhausted. He’s warm and
He hasn’t heard /that/ one in a while, and his cheeks start to heat up at the nickname.
Now that all the anxiety is starting to fade and most of the emotions have been burnt out by sex, Chuuya is starting to feel exhausted. He’s warm and
comfortable.
There’s just one more thing.
“I’ll tell him, though. I’ll tell him, and then my family. We can go from there. But I want him to know because I don’t want to act like I’m not—“ his /first/ instinct is to say ‘not in /love/ with you’ and /that/ thought is so
There’s just one more thing.
“I’ll tell him, though. I’ll tell him, and then my family. We can go from there. But I want him to know because I don’t want to act like I’m not—“ his /first/ instinct is to say ‘not in /love/ with you’ and /that/ thought is so
startling that he almost loses his train of thought entirely because—
No, no, it’s too /soon/, he doesn’t /actually/ feel like that, he’s just pent up and relieved. It’s not true.
“Okay,” Dazai agrees, falling backwards onto his back and dragging Chuuya with him. They’re
No, no, it’s too /soon/, he doesn’t /actually/ feel like that, he’s just pent up and relieved. It’s not true.
“Okay,” Dazai agrees, falling backwards onto his back and dragging Chuuya with him. They’re
still messy, but apparently this is the first time Dazai will allow it to stay that way.
Chuuya doesn’t /like/ the sticky mess, but the thought of getting up right now or letting go of Dazai is blasphemous.
“But we’re good now, right? Is there anything else we needed to talk
Chuuya doesn’t /like/ the sticky mess, but the thought of getting up right now or letting go of Dazai is blasphemous.
“But we’re good now, right? Is there anything else we needed to talk
about or are we okay now?”
Dazai drags him a little higher, so his head is tucked under his chin comfortably. “Yes, we’re good now. Go to sleep, chibi, I know you’re tired. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
The last of the tangled up emotions loosens up, leaving him exhausted
Dazai drags him a little higher, so his head is tucked under his chin comfortably. “Yes, we’re good now. Go to sleep, chibi, I know you’re tired. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
The last of the tangled up emotions loosens up, leaving him exhausted
and pleasantly empty in their wake.
Reassured now, he cuddles closer and lets his eyelids fall shut.
He spends his last moments before sleeping planning out a good time to tell Shuuji. Monday, he thinks, maybe after class.
(He will never get the chance.)
He sleeps.
——— +
Reassured now, he cuddles closer and lets his eyelids fall shut.
He spends his last moments before sleeping planning out a good time to tell Shuuji. Monday, he thinks, maybe after class.
(He will never get the chance.)
He sleeps.
——— +
It’s not an alarm or the sun rising that wakes Chuuya up the next morning. It’s actually his stomach, growling and clenching painfully with emptiness, and it’s obscenely early. Dawn is /just/ beginning to turn the sky grey.
For a moment, he considers trying to go back to sleep.
For a moment, he considers trying to go back to sleep.
He’s warm and comfortable, sprawled out over Dazai’s chest. There’s a steady heartbeat under his ear, and an arm thrown over his back, a firm thigh between his legs.
His stomach twists again. He’s so /hungry/, hasn’t eaten anything since early yesterday afternoon. He couldn’t
His stomach twists again. He’s so /hungry/, hasn’t eaten anything since early yesterday afternoon. He couldn’t
take more than a bite or two of his dinner last night, and the consequences of that are hitting him now.
Ugh. He grumbles to himself, slowly wiggling out of Dazai’s hold. He’ll just get a quick bowl of cereal or something so his stomach will stop trying to eat itself and then
Ugh. He grumbles to himself, slowly wiggling out of Dazai’s hold. He’ll just get a quick bowl of cereal or something so his stomach will stop trying to eat itself and then
he’ll come back and cuddle up again.
Dazai shifts when he’s /almost/ free, and Chuuya freezes, thinking he woke him up. It’s too early for him, and even though he wasn’t /drunk/ last night, he still needs more sleep to recover from what he did drink.
But Dazai just turns over,
Dazai shifts when he’s /almost/ free, and Chuuya freezes, thinking he woke him up. It’s too early for him, and even though he wasn’t /drunk/ last night, he still needs more sleep to recover from what he did drink.
But Dazai just turns over,
sleepily searching with his hand until he finds a pillow and drags it closer. He curls around it, hugging it close to his chest with a sleepy, content noise.
Cute.
Chuuya leaves him to his pillow, creeping down the stairs as quietly as he can. Yoko and Kozo are sprawled out in
Cute.
Chuuya leaves him to his pillow, creeping down the stairs as quietly as he can. Yoko and Kozo are sprawled out in
the hallway, snoring.
They startle awake as he passes, scrambling to their feet with small grunts. When they see it’s just him, they settle back down again and let out a couple of yawns.
Chuuya winces. It’s so quiet in here that they’re loud by comparison. “Come on,” he
They startle awake as he passes, scrambling to their feet with small grunts. When they see it’s just him, they settle back down again and let out a couple of yawns.
Chuuya winces. It’s so quiet in here that they’re loud by comparison. “Come on,” he
mutters, ushering them down the stairs. “Time for you to go outside.”
Naturally, they /bound/ down the stairs with a ruckus. He freezes at the top, listening hard to see if he woke anybody up.
When nothing moves for a while, he continues his journey down the stairs.
The dogs
Naturally, they /bound/ down the stairs with a ruckus. He freezes at the top, listening hard to see if he woke anybody up.
When nothing moves for a while, he continues his journey down the stairs.
The dogs
are waiting for him by the back door, prancing over themselves in their excitement. He lets them out as quietly as he can, shutting the door behind them to keep the noise down.
He pads over to the fridge, pulling it open and taking out one of the water bottles stashed inside.
He pads over to the fridge, pulling it open and taking out one of the water bottles stashed inside.
Cracking it open, he chugs nearly the whole thing in one drink. He's so /thirsty/.
There's quite a few meals he could make from the food that's in the fridge, but that requires cooking and cleaning, and overall way too much effort. He just wants something easy, like a bowl of
There's quite a few meals he could make from the food that's in the fridge, but that requires cooking and cleaning, and overall way too much effort. He just wants something easy, like a bowl of
cereal.
There's only /one/ problem.
The box of cereal is in the pantry, easily accessible. There's milk in the fridge, clean spoons in the drawer.
But the /bowls/...
Are stored on the /very top/ shelf of the cabinet, far out of reach.
Chuuya stares at them, /hating/ his
There's only /one/ problem.
The box of cereal is in the pantry, easily accessible. There's milk in the fridge, clean spoons in the drawer.
But the /bowls/...
Are stored on the /very top/ shelf of the cabinet, far out of reach.
Chuuya stares at them, /hating/ his
existence.
It's not like Dazai owns a step-stool either, because /he's/ tall and can reach the bowls. And it's not like Chuuya can just stick his hand into the cereal box and eat it by the handful because that would be unsanitary.
He has to climb up there to get them, but it's
It's not like Dazai owns a step-stool either, because /he's/ tall and can reach the bowls. And it's not like Chuuya can just stick his hand into the cereal box and eat it by the handful because that would be unsanitary.
He has to climb up there to get them, but it's
so /early/ and the counters are already at hip-height.
God /fucking/ dammit, he grumbles to himself, hooking his fingers underneath the lip of the cabinet so he can start to pull himself /up/--
Only for a body to press up behind him, an arm reaching up and /effortlessly/
God /fucking/ dammit, he grumbles to himself, hooking his fingers underneath the lip of the cabinet so he can start to pull himself /up/--
Only for a body to press up behind him, an arm reaching up and /effortlessly/
bringing down a bowl for him.
He scowls at the cabinet. That's so not fair. He practically has to become a goddamn spider monkey to get through life, but /Dazai/ just gets to reach up there without a problem.
"If you needed help, you could've just asked," Dazai rumbles, voice
He scowls at the cabinet. That's so not fair. He practically has to become a goddamn spider monkey to get through life, but /Dazai/ just gets to reach up there without a problem.
"If you needed help, you could've just asked," Dazai rumbles, voice
tinged with amusement as he sets down the bowl in easy reach.
"Yeah, yeah," Chuuya snarks, unwilling to point out that he /didn't/ need help, he just needed to climb to do it himself, "whatever, daddy long legs."
There's a second where they /both/ process what he just said.
"Yeah, yeah," Chuuya snarks, unwilling to point out that he /didn't/ need help, he just needed to climb to do it himself, "whatever, daddy long legs."
There's a second where they /both/ process what he just said.
Chuuya with embarrassment, staring at the cabinet as his cheeks begin to burn. He didn't /plan/ on saying that, it just came out, fueled by lingering exhaustion and irritation. He wasn't even /thinking/.
With hands on his shoulders, Dazai spins him around and now he's looming
With hands on his shoulders, Dazai spins him around and now he's looming
over him and his smile is big and blatantly amused, clearly fighting back the urge to /grin/. "What did you call me?"
More embarrassment floods through Chuuya, tinged with irritation.He turns his head, refusing to look at him directly. "I didn't call you anything."
Dazai snorts
More embarrassment floods through Chuuya, tinged with irritation.He turns his head, refusing to look at him directly. "I didn't call you anything."
Dazai snorts
and now Chuuya is struggling to suppress a smile because he sounds so damn amused and it's /contagious/.
Hands find his waist,lifting him up and backwards onto the counter. Chuuya hangs onto his shoulders, but doesn't fight him for even a second.
There was still this lingering
Hands find his waist,lifting him up and backwards onto the counter. Chuuya hangs onto his shoulders, but doesn't fight him for even a second.
There was still this lingering
fear somewhere inside him. Even though they both agreed that they were good and the fight was over, he was still worried that things were going to be /awkward/ between them. That the fight would cause tension and uncertainty between them, and it'd take them a while to get back
into their old rhythm.
That's how it was with his sisters. Even when they made up after a fight, there was still this subtle, passive-aggressive anger and irritation towards each other that tainted all their interactions.
Eventually, it'd go away and they'd /actually/ be good
That's how it was with his sisters. Even when they made up after a fight, there was still this subtle, passive-aggressive anger and irritation towards each other that tainted all their interactions.
Eventually, it'd go away and they'd /actually/ be good
again, but it always took them a while after they made up to /actually/ be normal with each other.
He was half-expecting it to be like that now between them, but evidently he was wrong, based on the way Dazai is now pressing his smile against his cheek.
"No, you /definitely/
He was half-expecting it to be like that now between them, but evidently he was wrong, based on the way Dazai is now pressing his smile against his cheek.
"No, you /definitely/
called me something. I heard it," he says, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"I think you're hearing things," Chuuya sniffs, turning his nose up even higher. He's /acting/ bratty and irritable, but he can't fight the growing smile. With how close Dazai is, there's no way he can't
"I think you're hearing things," Chuuya sniffs, turning his nose up even higher. He's /acting/ bratty and irritable, but he can't fight the growing smile. With how close Dazai is, there's no way he can't
feel it, can’t /taste/ it. “But if I /did/ say something, it’d probably be about how I could’ve gotten the bowl myself and I didn’t /need/ help.”
“Aww,” Dazai croons, layering his cheek with more kisses. “Are you /mad/ at me?”
The way he says it makes it clear he finds that
“Aww,” Dazai croons, layering his cheek with more kisses. “Are you /mad/ at me?”
The way he says it makes it clear he finds that
idea /adorable/. Like there’s nothing cuter than Chuuya being irritable with him over a bowl.
“Yeah,” he confirms, even as he’s hooking his knees around Dazai’s hips and drawing him in closer, as close as he can, until their chests are pressed together. “Super mad.”
Their hips
“Yeah,” he confirms, even as he’s hooking his knees around Dazai’s hips and drawing him in closer, as close as he can, until their chests are pressed together. “Super mad.”
Their hips
connect,and Chuuya can feel interest stirring there, growing hotter with the weight of their bodies.
Chuuya’s still not wearing underwear from last night,and he had shrugged on one of Dazai’s discarded shirts. Dazai changed into sweatpants at some point, hanging low on his hips.
Chuuya’s still not wearing underwear from last night,and he had shrugged on one of Dazai’s discarded shirts. Dazai changed into sweatpants at some point, hanging low on his hips.
He’s sleep-warm, voice rough and his hair wild and /how/ is Chuuya ever supposed to resist him? How is he supposed to do anything besides give into him when they’re pressed this close together, and he feels /so/ good?
Dazai presses a sucking kiss over his cheekbone, scraping his
Dazai presses a sucking kiss over his cheekbone, scraping his
teeth over the sensitive flesh. When Chuuya’s breath hitches, he lets him go again, moving onto the next spot.
“Oh, you’re so /cute/,” he murmurs, like he didn’t even mean to say it, it just came out, an unexpected confession.
Heart skipping a beat, Chuuya turns his head to
“Oh, you’re so /cute/,” he murmurs, like he didn’t even mean to say it, it just came out, an unexpected confession.
Heart skipping a beat, Chuuya turns his head to
catch him in a kiss.
Last night,that was frantic and hasty and rough. It wasn’t about enjoyment then, it was about the /need/, about proving to themselves that there was still something there between them, about forgetting the emotional turmoil by indulging in physical pleasure.
Last night,that was frantic and hasty and rough. It wasn’t about enjoyment then, it was about the /need/, about proving to themselves that there was still something there between them, about forgetting the emotional turmoil by indulging in physical pleasure.
This...
This feels like reassurance, like affection, like coming /home/. Like savoring your favorite meal after not having it for a while, bite after bite after delicious anticipated bite, feeling how easily the hunger is sated. Like coming home from after a long time away,
This feels like reassurance, like affection, like coming /home/. Like savoring your favorite meal after not having it for a while, bite after bite after delicious anticipated bite, feeling how easily the hunger is sated. Like coming home from after a long time away,
and being greeted at the door.
Every time Dazai’s mouth moves over his, coaxing his lips open wider so he can kiss him deeper, one of his hands cupping the back of his neck and tipping his chin back, Chuuya feels like he’s /reeling/. Being drowned in the sensation of being
Every time Dazai’s mouth moves over his, coaxing his lips open wider so he can kiss him deeper, one of his hands cupping the back of his neck and tipping his chin back, Chuuya feels like he’s /reeling/. Being drowned in the sensation of being
caught and /held/ and savored.
He’s tipped backwards slightly as Dazai presses into him. His legs are hitched around Dazai’s waist, and he’s on the very edge of the counter. If Dazai pressed either way, forwards or back, Chuuya would probably end up falling.
But there’s
He’s tipped backwards slightly as Dazai presses into him. His legs are hitched around Dazai’s waist, and he’s on the very edge of the counter. If Dazai pressed either way, forwards or back, Chuuya would probably end up falling.
But there’s
safety in the hand around the back of his neck, effortlessly holding him upright. Reassurance in the way Dazai is solid and steady between his thighs, something for Chuuya to cling onto.
There’s /need/ in the way his free hand has found one of Chuuya’s leg and is drawing a
There’s /need/ in the way his free hand has found one of Chuuya’s leg and is drawing a
swirling pattern /up/, slowly inching his way up his thigh.
Honestly, Chuuya should have predicted this. He’s learned that Dazai has an /affinity/ for sex in unusual places, and mostly places that are /risky/.
The risk here is inherent; Shuuji could walk in on them at any time.
Honestly, Chuuya should have predicted this. He’s learned that Dazai has an /affinity/ for sex in unusual places, and mostly places that are /risky/.
The risk here is inherent; Shuuji could walk in on them at any time.
While it /is/ still early and dawn is just beginning to break, and Shuuji is self-admitted to not being a morning person—
He could walk in at any moment.
That would be an interesting way to discover they’re dating, Chuuya thinks to himself with amusement, gasping as Dazai nips
He could walk in at any moment.
That would be an interesting way to discover they’re dating, Chuuya thinks to himself with amusement, gasping as Dazai nips
at his bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth.
If they make too much noise, or take too long, or even just sheer bad luck—
They could get /caught/.
That doesn’t seem to bother Dazai though, because his thumb has found the crease of Chuuya’s hip and is rubbing over it in slow,
If they make too much noise, or take too long, or even just sheer bad luck—
They could get /caught/.
That doesn’t seem to bother Dazai though, because his thumb has found the crease of Chuuya’s hip and is rubbing over it in slow,
teasing-tempting circles. Dazai's shirt is huge on him, but it's been pushed up over his thighs to give Dazai room to work with.
Dazai Osamu is a bad influence. Before him, Chuuya had never even /considered/ doing risky things like this. He broke rules in other ways, but sex?
Dazai Osamu is a bad influence. Before him, Chuuya had never even /considered/ doing risky things like this. He broke rules in other ways, but sex?
No.
He always thought he'd be on the /normal/ side of sex. That he'd like things predictable and easy. A bed, a few positions, and that was basically it. Whenever he /thought/ about people doing weird things during sex, he always found it strange and a turn-off.
But now he's
He always thought he'd be on the /normal/ side of sex. That he'd like things predictable and easy. A bed, a few positions, and that was basically it. Whenever he /thought/ about people doing weird things during sex, he always found it strange and a turn-off.
But now he's
/rapidly/ discovering that the 'weird' stuff is actually pretty fucking hot, especially when he's doing it with someone like /Dazai/.
Case in point, he's already half-hard and getting harder fast, half-drunk on the idea of being caught at /all/. Dazai's hardly done anything
Case in point, he's already half-hard and getting harder fast, half-drunk on the idea of being caught at /all/. Dazai's hardly done anything
to him besides kiss him stupid and stroke fingertips over his thighs, and yet here he is, breathless and needy for more.
"More," he mumbles against Dazai's mouth, tightening his legs around his hips to grind his erection against the heat of his abs, gasping at the friction.
"More," he mumbles against Dazai's mouth, tightening his legs around his hips to grind his erection against the heat of his abs, gasping at the friction.
The smile that gets pressed against his mouth is teasing, self-satisfied. He's certain that Dazai is going to string him out until he's desperate, tease him with taste and touch and words until he can barely think but--
"I got you, baby," gets murmured back to him, soft and so
"I got you, baby," gets murmured back to him, soft and so
assured it feels as easy as breathing to fall into him.
Apparently either Dazai brought lube /with/ him-- arrogant bastard, but it works out in Chuuya's favor so he's not too angry-- or he keeps a spare bottle in the kitchen for these kinds of mornings. All Chuuya knows for sure
Apparently either Dazai brought lube /with/ him-- arrogant bastard, but it works out in Chuuya's favor so he's not too angry-- or he keeps a spare bottle in the kitchen for these kinds of mornings. All Chuuya knows for sure
is that his hand leaves his hip for a few moments and then comes back wet, sliding between his thighs.
Chuuya has to scoot forward a little bit, rounding his back to give him better access. It leaves him hanging in his grip, supported by his legs and the hand behind his neck.
Chuuya has to scoot forward a little bit, rounding his back to give him better access. It leaves him hanging in his grip, supported by his legs and the hand behind his neck.
Prep is easy and quick, considering they fucked only a few hours before. It's not long before Dazai is pumping two fingers into him and then three, stretching him open steadily but not rushing it.
Still, every movement of his fingers and every accidental brush against his
Still, every movement of his fingers and every accidental brush against his
prostate has him gasping out soft moans.
Usually Chuuya is /loud/--something that embarrasses him sometimes, but he can't /help/ it and he's certain Dazai tries to get him to moan as loud as possible as a /challenge/-- but something about this interaction feels /hushed/.
Feels
Usually Chuuya is /loud/--something that embarrasses him sometimes, but he can't /help/ it and he's certain Dazai tries to get him to moan as loud as possible as a /challenge/-- but something about this interaction feels /hushed/.
Feels
quiet and reverential, has him gasping out soft moans and hitched breaths that get swallowed by Dazai.
He hasn't stopped kissing him /once/, not even as he pulls his fingers out and slides inside him. Chuuya feels drugged by it, dizzy, brought to searing life and held there by
He hasn't stopped kissing him /once/, not even as he pulls his fingers out and slides inside him. Chuuya feels drugged by it, dizzy, brought to searing life and held there by
teeth and tongue and breath.
His body is still waking up from sleep, and that makes it so easy to feel overwhelmed by how /deep/ Dazai feels inside him, buried all the way inside and rocking in short, pointed slides against his prostate. Every touch feels like fire itself, every
His body is still waking up from sleep, and that makes it so easy to feel overwhelmed by how /deep/ Dazai feels inside him, buried all the way inside and rocking in short, pointed slides against his prostate. Every touch feels like fire itself, every
breath feels like living and dying in the same moment.
It's slow too, his best spots being milked until he can hardly breathe through the pleasure as it grows and grows, heightening with every moment.
There's a point, when both of Dazai's hands are cupping his face and holding
It's slow too, his best spots being milked until he can hardly breathe through the pleasure as it grows and grows, heightening with every moment.
There's a point, when both of Dazai's hands are cupping his face and holding
him in place as he kisses him and kisses him and breathes little groans into his mouth and whispers his name, and all Chuuya can do is /hold on/, hands wrapped around his wrists and whimpering back to him as they spiral higher and higher.
His orgasm feels like it shakes him to
His orgasm feels like it shakes him to
his very core, leaving him trembling and shivering as he rides out the heat-drenched pleasure.
Dazai isn't far after him, and the noise he makes as he buries himself as deeply as he can makes an exhausted ripple of arousal creep up Chuuya's spine.
For a while they just breathe
Dazai isn't far after him, and the noise he makes as he buries himself as deeply as he can makes an exhausted ripple of arousal creep up Chuuya's spine.
For a while they just breathe
together, slowly recovering as their heartbeats slow down. Dazai's forehead, pressed to his, is damp with sweat. His sweats, pushed down /just/ far enough to pull out his cock, are rough against the back of his thighs.
It's peaceful, relaxing.
At least it is until--
It's peaceful, relaxing.
At least it is until--
Noise, upstairs.
Shuuji's waking up and coming downstairs, /fuck/!
Chuuya shoves Dazai away because he doesn't /actually/ want to tell Shuuji about them while's wearing /only/ his shirt and his cum is dripping out of him. He has /dignity/, and if he's going to be telling Shuuji
Shuuji's waking up and coming downstairs, /fuck/!
Chuuya shoves Dazai away because he doesn't /actually/ want to tell Shuuji about them while's wearing /only/ his shirt and his cum is dripping out of him. He has /dignity/, and if he's going to be telling Shuuji
that he's in a relationship with his /father/, then he at least wants to be wearing underwear. Preferably pants too.
Preferably a whole rocking outfit, actually, as a confidence boost and also because he's /petty/ and he wants to look his best when he's telling Shuuji he'll
Preferably a whole rocking outfit, actually, as a confidence boost and also because he's /petty/ and he wants to look his best when he's telling Shuuji he'll
never get to touch /this/.
Dazai stumbles away, looking vaguely offended.
Chuuya hops down after him, wincing when he feels how wet the counter is behind him. "Please don't be mad," he hisses to Dazai, waving him away, "I want to wait to tell him until I'm at /least/ wearing
Dazai stumbles away, looking vaguely offended.
Chuuya hops down after him, wincing when he feels how wet the counter is behind him. "Please don't be mad," he hisses to Dazai, waving him away, "I want to wait to tell him until I'm at /least/ wearing
pants, /please/. Please understand that."
Dazai blows out a breath, and the irritation that was beginning to grow on his face slides away. He nods, pulling his sweats up and going to start a pot of coffee.
With shaky hands, feeling his heartbeat in his throat, Chuuya pours
Dazai blows out a breath, and the irritation that was beginning to grow on his face slides away. He nods, pulling his sweats up and going to start a pot of coffee.
With shaky hands, feeling his heartbeat in his throat, Chuuya pours
himself a bowl of cereal. He totally forgot he was hungry and now he feels too on-edge to actually eat.
Shuuji comes bounding in, fully dressed and with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He looks too awake to have woken up anytime /recently/ and Chuuya is briefly paralyzed
Shuuji comes bounding in, fully dressed and with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He looks too awake to have woken up anytime /recently/ and Chuuya is briefly paralyzed
by the thought that he /heard/ and he's come to confront them--
"Hey Dad, I'm busy today, can you give Chuuya a ride home?"
But apparently not.
Relieved, he takes a bite of cereal.
Dazai turns around, leaning back against the counter with a mug of freshly brewed black coffee
"Hey Dad, I'm busy today, can you give Chuuya a ride home?"
But apparently not.
Relieved, he takes a bite of cereal.
Dazai turns around, leaning back against the counter with a mug of freshly brewed black coffee
in his hands. There's a wet spot on his sweats from lube, and he's not even /trying/ to hide it, or the fact that he's sweaty.
God, this is a /nightmare/, but if Shuuji asks, Chuuya won't say no.
It's just /mortifying/ to bring up 'hey, I'm like technically your step-dad right
God, this is a /nightmare/, but if Shuuji asks, Chuuya won't say no.
It's just /mortifying/ to bring up 'hey, I'm like technically your step-dad right
now and might actually be your legal step-dad some day so surprise! Hope you're not too mad! We'll invite you to the wedding if it happens' while there's /literally/ cum dripping down his thigh, hot and sticky.
Dazai smirks into his coffee. "Yeah, I'll give him a ride."
The
Dazai smirks into his coffee. "Yeah, I'll give him a ride."
The
innuendo is /thick/, so blatant that Chuuya is shooting him a look. They're already in a sticky situation--literally--, he doesn't have to rub it in.
Shuuji doesn't notice, snagging a banana from the island counter and turning away again. "Okay, cool, thanks, bye!"
Then he's
Shuuji doesn't notice, snagging a banana from the island counter and turning away again. "Okay, cool, thanks, bye!"
Then he's
racing out the door, apparently /very/ intent on whatever mission he has planned for today. What it /is/, considering it's a little past 6 in the morning, Chuuya has /no/ fucking idea, but he doesn't care.
"You /ass/," he hisses at Dazai, throwing a dry piece of cereal at him,
"You /ass/," he hisses at Dazai, throwing a dry piece of cereal at him,
"You weren't subtle or helpful at /all/!"
Dazai downs the rest of his coffee in one gulp, grinning. He sets the mug down in the sink, stalking closer until Chuuya is once again pinned between him and the counter.
"What do you want me to say, baby? That you're /not/ dripping
Dazai downs the rest of his coffee in one gulp, grinning. He sets the mug down in the sink, stalking closer until Chuuya is once again pinned between him and the counter.
"What do you want me to say, baby? That you're /not/ dripping
my cum down those pretty legs of yours? That my cock /isn't/ still wet from being inside you?" His voice is lilting with smug pleasure, curling around his nerve endings enticingly.
Chuuya takes another bite to save himself from answering, but there's a /different/ hunger growing
Chuuya takes another bite to save himself from answering, but there's a /different/ hunger growing
in his stomach. It's a good thing he found Dazai, because the man is apparently just as insatiable as he is.
It'd be ridiculous if he wasn't so into it.
Dazai leans closer, until his cheek is sliding past his and his mouth is next to his ear. One of his hands finds the back of
It'd be ridiculous if he wasn't so into it.
Dazai leans closer, until his cheek is sliding past his and his mouth is next to his ear. One of his hands finds the back of
his thigh, smearing over the sticky cum there without hesitation.
"Or I /could've/ said," he whispers, breath hot and audible in his ear, sending shivers down his spine, "that I want to do it /again/?"
Oh, /fuck/ eating right now.
The bowl of cereal gets placed on the counter,
"Or I /could've/ said," he whispers, breath hot and audible in his ear, sending shivers down his spine, "that I want to do it /again/?"
Oh, /fuck/ eating right now.
The bowl of cereal gets placed on the counter,
forgotten, as he hops up into Dazai's arms with a grin.
Dazai supports him with hands on his thighs, tilting his head back for a kiss. "I have a grooming appointment for the dogs in four hours. Until then, you're /mine/."
Chuuya would argue that he's his /forever/, but he's too
Dazai supports him with hands on his thighs, tilting his head back for a kiss. "I have a grooming appointment for the dogs in four hours. Until then, you're /mine/."
Chuuya would argue that he's his /forever/, but he's too
busy kissing him to actually say anything.
(Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.)
--------- +
Yuan lives two separate lives. Sometimes she likes to think that she's her own doppelganger, both the evil and the good twin. It's more fun that way, to think of it as some party trick or a magic
(Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.)
--------- +
Yuan lives two separate lives. Sometimes she likes to think that she's her own doppelganger, both the evil and the good twin. It's more fun that way, to think of it as some party trick or a magic
show rather than the depressing reality that it is.
Because out /there/ she's the supposedly privileged, popular, pretty young college girl that gets whatever she wants. She's friends with most of the younger rich kids. She goes to all their parties, goes invited to a good
Because out /there/ she's the supposedly privileged, popular, pretty young college girl that gets whatever she wants. She's friends with most of the younger rich kids. She goes to all their parties, goes invited to a good
many of their vacations, gets gifts and handouts.
Because they think she's one of /them/. They think she's the estranged but still cared for daughter of a rich businessman, that she goes home to a big beautiful house in the suburbs and she's on the fast track to being rich and
Because they think she's one of /them/. They think she's the estranged but still cared for daughter of a rich businessman, that she goes home to a big beautiful house in the suburbs and she's on the fast track to being rich and
successful.
When the truth is--
"Yuan, will you come help me with the vegetables, please?"
When the /truth/ is that she's the second daughter of a single mother, and the only 'privilege' she has is the one she's taken for herself with lying and manipulation.
Their apartment
When the truth is--
"Yuan, will you come help me with the vegetables, please?"
When the /truth/ is that she's the second daughter of a single mother, and the only 'privilege' she has is the one she's taken for herself with lying and manipulation.
Their apartment
is small, with only one bedroom. Her mother has given it up to her and her sister, making her 'bedroom' in a small corner of the living room by sectioning off a space with hanging curtains.
Yuan's sister, Elise, went off the live in the college dorms as soon as she could but...
Yuan's sister, Elise, went off the live in the college dorms as soon as she could but...
Yuan couldn't leave their mom all /alone/. She gave /everything/ for them, worked two, sometimes three jobs in order to get them into good schools. Even now, after she's gotten a promotion as a secretary, she still works brutally long hours.
It makes Yuan sad, to think of her
It makes Yuan sad, to think of her
mom working all day and half the night, only to come home to an empty and cold house.
She did have opportunities at the dorms at Keio but she's just fine with her tiny room with her mother.
"How was work today?" She asks her mother, joining her in the kitchen. It smells like
She did have opportunities at the dorms at Keio but she's just fine with her tiny room with her mother.
"How was work today?" She asks her mother, joining her in the kitchen. It smells like
she's cooking ramen. They're in for a treat then, because Yuan /loves/ her ramen. Almost as good as some restaurants.
There's garlic and green onions and a few other vegetables waiting on the counter to be chopped. Yuan pulls out their cutting board and gets to work.
"It was
There's garlic and green onions and a few other vegetables waiting on the counter to be chopped. Yuan pulls out their cutting board and gets to work.
"It was
okay," her mother sighs, stirring the pot. "Ango is very tense lately, though. It makes my job hard to do when he is very grumpy."
Personally, Yuan thinks Ango is a prick even when he's being 'nice', always sending her mother out on unnecessary errands or calling her late at
Personally, Yuan thinks Ango is a prick even when he's being 'nice', always sending her mother out on unnecessary errands or calling her late at
night. There was a time where she thought he was /interested/ in her mother, but after a while, she's come to the conclusion that he's just a prick who doesn't think other people's lives matter as much as his does.
"Why is he so worried?" Yuan asks, slicing the green onion into
"Why is he so worried?" Yuan asks, slicing the green onion into
thin pieces.
Dropping noodles into a pot of boiling water, her mother shrugs, "He says that the crime rates are escalating very quickly, and making his job difficult. He says something needs to change soon, or people even more important than him will step in."
Yuan frowns,
Dropping noodles into a pot of boiling water, her mother shrugs, "He says that the crime rates are escalating very quickly, and making his job difficult. He says something needs to change soon, or people even more important than him will step in."
Yuan frowns,
gathering up the sliced pieces and dumping them into a bowl. That sounds pretty serious, actually.
What her mother's company-- the Special Divisions Unit, or something-- does has always been a bit of a mystery to Yuan, so she doesn't understand /why/ a higher crime rate would
What her mother's company-- the Special Divisions Unit, or something-- does has always been a bit of a mystery to Yuan, so she doesn't understand /why/ a higher crime rate would
affect them, but she hopes it stops soon. Her mother is much too overworked.
"Enough about me. How was class today, sweetie?"
Yuan hums, cleaning off her knife and board. She finished early, and it will probably still be another twenty minutes before the ramen is finished. "It
"Enough about me. How was class today, sweetie?"
Yuan hums, cleaning off her knife and board. She finished early, and it will probably still be another twenty minutes before the ramen is finished. "It
was boring, actually. We didn't learn much. But Shirase said he wanted to talk to me later, can I go see what he wants?"
Smiling, her mother shoos her off. "Go, then. Tell the boy I miss him, and he should visit sometimes."
She nods, leaving her mother to finish cooking as she
Smiling, her mother shoos her off. "Go, then. Tell the boy I miss him, and he should visit sometimes."
She nods, leaving her mother to finish cooking as she
heads back to her room. She pulls out her phone, checking her recent texts.
There's an older text from Shuuji, two from Elise, some social media updates, and a newer text from Shirase.
Throwing herself back on her bed, she pulls up their conversations. Their last texts make her
There's an older text from Shuuji, two from Elise, some social media updates, and a newer text from Shirase.
Throwing herself back on her bed, she pulls up their conversations. Their last texts make her
snort in amusement.
[ DUMDUM ]: what's the different between a neko and a catgirl
[ YUAN ]: neko is a derogatory term coined by spanish invaders in the 1800's
[ DUMDUM ]: really?????
[ YUAN ]: god did you even go to school? no i was fucking with you
[ DUMDUM ]: i'm never
[ DUMDUM ]: what's the different between a neko and a catgirl
[ YUAN ]: neko is a derogatory term coined by spanish invaders in the 1800's
[ DUMDUM ]: really?????
[ YUAN ]: god did you even go to school? no i was fucking with you
[ DUMDUM ]: i'm never
trusting you again
[ YUAN ]: 🥰
The most recent text, however, is the most concerning one.
[ DUMDUM ]: yo have you seen this???
He sent a recording of the public Snapchat hotspot for Keio. She doesn't usually look at it, because it's usually filled with boring videos, but
[ YUAN ]: 🥰
The most recent text, however, is the most concerning one.
[ DUMDUM ]: yo have you seen this???
He sent a recording of the public Snapchat hotspot for Keio. She doesn't usually look at it, because it's usually filled with boring videos, but
this time, it's something... interesting, to say the least.
It was posted about eleven this morning, nearly two hours ago. It's a shaky video of a dog grooming store, which would normally be something to skip past but--
It's Chuuya in the video, dressed up in clothes she's
It was posted about eleven this morning, nearly two hours ago. It's a shaky video of a dog grooming store, which would normally be something to skip past but--
It's Chuuya in the video, dressed up in clothes she's
never seen before and--
Kissing who is /obviously/ Dazai Osamu. Shuuji's /dad/.
And not like, awkward or accidental or any kind of kissing that might be able to be explained away. Full on, public, hands around Dazai's neck, smiling in the kiss, /almost/ a makeout session.
Kissing who is /obviously/ Dazai Osamu. Shuuji's /dad/.
And not like, awkward or accidental or any kind of kissing that might be able to be explained away. Full on, public, hands around Dazai's neck, smiling in the kiss, /almost/ a makeout session.
Her first thought is /fuck/, that is very not good.
Her second thought is, why does /he/ get to makeout with Dazai in public when she can barely get the man to say her name after trying to come onto him for /months/. Chuuya's been here like two weeks! He has to be cheating.
Her second thought is, why does /he/ get to makeout with Dazai in public when she can barely get the man to say her name after trying to come onto him for /months/. Chuuya's been here like two weeks! He has to be cheating.
Her third thought, and this is the most pressing one--
Has Shuuji seen this yet?
She replays the video,hoping she was somehow mistaken--
But she's not, and this time she notices the damning information in the caption:
"YOOOO NAKAHARA STRUCK IT RICH HUH 👅👅"
Oh this is /not/
Has Shuuji seen this yet?
She replays the video,hoping she was somehow mistaken--
But she's not, and this time she notices the damning information in the caption:
"YOOOO NAKAHARA STRUCK IT RICH HUH 👅👅"
Oh this is /not/
good. So not good.
Shuuji's going to be /livid/. Half the school has probably seen this already, and while Chuuya was never his official boyfriend, they were seen together often enough. People know.
Everybody's going to be laughing at him, and he's going to be /pissed/.
Shuuji's going to be /livid/. Half the school has probably seen this already, and while Chuuya was never his official boyfriend, they were seen together often enough. People know.
Everybody's going to be laughing at him, and he's going to be /pissed/.
[ DUMDUM ]: what do we do?????? shuuji's gonna go off the deep end
Is there anything they /can/ do? It's a public snapchat spot, and she doesn't recognize the user of the person who posted it, so she can't ask them to take it down.
It's been up for almost two hours already. And
Is there anything they /can/ do? It's a public snapchat spot, and she doesn't recognize the user of the person who posted it, so she can't ask them to take it down.
It's been up for almost two hours already. And
if Shirase already has a video saved of it, then there will be /other/ videos already saved.
Gossip spreads like the wind at Keio.
This is so not good. The situation is already spiraling out of control.
[ YUAN ]: fuck idk?? are you with shuuji today?? steal his phone so he
Gossip spreads like the wind at Keio.
This is so not good. The situation is already spiraling out of control.
[ YUAN ]: fuck idk?? are you with shuuji today?? steal his phone so he
can't see it
[ DUMDUM ]: im not with him are you????
Fuck, so there's /no/ damage control then.
Okay, okay, she can figure out who posted it and then make them take it down before he sees it--
Another text, not from Shirase. This one is coming from the /group chat/.
[ DUMDUM ]: im not with him are you????
Fuck, so there's /no/ damage control then.
Okay, okay, she can figure out who posted it and then make them take it down before he sees it--
Another text, not from Shirase. This one is coming from the /group chat/.
Shuuji insisted on making a new group chat without Chuuya a few weeks before. She's been ignoring it, mostly, because she feels like that's mean to Chuuya--
But she can't ignore /this/ text.
[ SHUUJI ]: i'm going to kill that gold digging slut like he's a stupid fucking dog
But she can't ignore /this/ text.
[ SHUUJI ]: i'm going to kill that gold digging slut like he's a stupid fucking dog
/Shit/.
[ YUAN ]: woah woah let's not do anything too hasty
[ SHUUJI ]: shut the fuck up
[ YUAN ]: i get that ur mad but don't do anything crazy okay, just take a second and think about what will happen to you
Seconds turn into agonizingly slow minutes, panic beginning to
[ YUAN ]: woah woah let's not do anything too hasty
[ SHUUJI ]: shut the fuck up
[ YUAN ]: i get that ur mad but don't do anything crazy okay, just take a second and think about what will happen to you
Seconds turn into agonizingly slow minutes, panic beginning to
set in because--
If Shuuji gets angry enough, he /will/ follow through. He doesn't care about consequences or what happens because of his actions.
He'll do it. He'll fucking do it.
Shuuji doesn't respond again.
Her next course of option-- her /only/ course of option-- is
If Shuuji gets angry enough, he /will/ follow through. He doesn't care about consequences or what happens because of his actions.
He'll do it. He'll fucking do it.
Shuuji doesn't respond again.
Her next course of option-- her /only/ course of option-- is
to call Chuuya and hopes he picks up so at least she can /warn/ him.
(Tick. Tock. Tick--
Oh, would you look at that?
Time's up.)
-------- +
[ SHUUJI ]: hey can we talk? :)
Chuuya shuffles his phone a little, contemplating. He was intending to wait until Monday to say
(Tick. Tock. Tick--
Oh, would you look at that?
Time's up.)
-------- +
[ SHUUJI ]: hey can we talk? :)
Chuuya shuffles his phone a little, contemplating. He was intending to wait until Monday to say
anything-- not for any particular reason, just because it gave him enough time to come up with a good speech-- but come to think of it, this seems like the perfect time.
It gets the conversation over with quickly, and then he can stop pretending he doesn't care about Dazai.
It gets the conversation over with quickly, and then he can stop pretending he doesn't care about Dazai.
Besides, it's not like he has anything else to do right now. Dazai went to go pick up the dogs from their appointment, and when Chuuya offered to come with, he said he had an errand to run.
He already did his homework, and now he's just sitting on his phone playing games. So why
He already did his homework, and now he's just sitting on his phone playing games. So why
not just get it over with?
Just rip the band-aid off so they can all just move on.
[ CHUUYA ]: yeah I have something to tell you too
[ CHUUYA ]: im still at ur house btw we can talk here
Barely even a /second/ passes before gets a response.
[ SHUUJI ]: be there soon!
Just rip the band-aid off so they can all just move on.
[ CHUUYA ]: yeah I have something to tell you too
[ CHUUYA ]: im still at ur house btw we can talk here
Barely even a /second/ passes before gets a response.
[ SHUUJI ]: be there soon!
Shuuji is usually a pretty slow texter with him, so it’s pretty surprising that he answered so quickly. Maybe he has something important to tell him too.
Before he can ask—
His phone dies. He forgot to charge it the night before, and between getting fucked into Dazai’s bed like
Before he can ask—
His phone dies. He forgot to charge it the night before, and between getting fucked into Dazai’s bed like
the man was trying to snap his spine in half, and then going to drop off the dogs, and getting a quick lunch before coming home—
He hasn’t had the chance to charge it.
Ugh.
Luckily though, there’s a few spare chargers stashed in one of the kitchen drawers, so he gets up to
He hasn’t had the chance to charge it.
Ugh.
Luckily though, there’s a few spare chargers stashed in one of the kitchen drawers, so he gets up to
plug it in.
He hesitates there. It feels weird to be waiting for Shuuji in his own house to have The Talk. What is he supposed to do, watch TV? Sit by the door reading a magazine like one of those parents in movies?
Come to think of it, he actually doesn’t have the password to
He hesitates there. It feels weird to be waiting for Shuuji in his own house to have The Talk. What is he supposed to do, watch TV? Sit by the door reading a magazine like one of those parents in movies?
Come to think of it, he actually doesn’t have the password to
the Netflix, so he can’t actually watch TV anyways.
So his options are to sit in awkward silence and stare at the wall until either Shuuji or Dazai gets back—
Or he can wait outside and soak up some sun while he waits. It’s been a while since he was able to just enjoy the
So his options are to sit in awkward silence and stare at the wall until either Shuuji or Dazai gets back—
Or he can wait outside and soak up some sun while he waits. It’s been a while since he was able to just enjoy the
warmth and pleasure of the sun. He’s been locked up in classes or studying, or sprawled on his back in Dazai’s bed.
Plus, without his phone, he won’t be able to get any updates on when they’re coming back, so. He’ll be able to see them quicker if he’s waiting outside.
(Like
Plus, without his phone, he won’t be able to get any updates on when they’re coming back, so. He’ll be able to see them quicker if he’s waiting outside.
(Like
most bad ideas, it seems terribly reasonable when you first think of it.)
It’s a warmer day than the last week has been, but it’s still a bit chilly. The sidewalk, however, has soaked up all the sun and is warm against his ass as he sits near the drive way to wait.
(Inside,
It’s a warmer day than the last week has been, but it’s still a bit chilly. The sidewalk, however, has soaked up all the sun and is warm against his ass as he sits near the drive way to wait.
(Inside,
on the counter:
INCOMING CALL: YUAN
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
1 MISSED CALL.
INCOMING CALL: YUAN
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
2 MISSED CALLS.
3 MISSED CALLS.
4 MISSED CA—.)
He sees Shuuji’s car first, speeding down the road to the house. He’s driving faster than normal.
INCOMING CALL: YUAN
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
1 MISSED CALL.
INCOMING CALL: YUAN
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
2 MISSED CALLS.
3 MISSED CALLS.
4 MISSED CA—.)
He sees Shuuji’s car first, speeding down the road to the house. He’s driving faster than normal.
***** The next scene will be difficult to handle for those sensitive to vehicular violence.
This is your warning. Do what you must.
There will be a summary at the end. Good luck. *****
This is your warning. Do what you must.
There will be a summary at the end. Good luck. *****
(Have you ever been on a roller coaster?
You know that feeling when you get to the top, and you're hovering there, overlooking the drop and thinking--
I'm going to die. This will kill me. If I fall right now, I will die.
And you're reasoning with yourself: Rollercoasters have
You know that feeling when you get to the top, and you're hovering there, overlooking the drop and thinking--
I'm going to die. This will kill me. If I fall right now, I will die.
And you're reasoning with yourself: Rollercoasters have
safety precautions. They have seatbelts and rails and people who make sure that the tracks are clear and safe, and mechanics to make sure everything is running perfectly.
Rollercoasters are /safe/, predictable.
Well, what if the person securing your seatbelt was having a
Rollercoasters are /safe/, predictable.
Well, what if the person securing your seatbelt was having a
/really/ bad day? What if there was an electrical fault somewhere down the line? A track broke? A branch was lying in /just/ the wrong place to send the rollercoaster flying off?
Have you ever thought--
What if the person driving the rollercoaster wanted to see you /dead/?)
Have you ever thought--
What if the person driving the rollercoaster wanted to see you /dead/?)
Chuuya watches and watches and watches and--
Shuuji's always been a bad driver, but when is he going to slow /down/? Is he planning to just zoom past?
Closer, closer.
Why isn't he stopping?
Closer.
Oh, okay, he's starting to slow down now. Chuuya can see the brake lights
Shuuji's always been a bad driver, but when is he going to slow /down/? Is he planning to just zoom past?
Closer, closer.
Why isn't he stopping?
Closer.
Oh, okay, he's starting to slow down now. Chuuya can see the brake lights
faintly now.
But wait, it's not enough, it's still too /fast/--
Heart pounding in his chest, his whole body feeling numb and tingly and frozen with fear, Chuuya realizes with startling calm:
He's going to hit me. I am going to get run over, right here in the driveway.
But wait, it's not enough, it's still too /fast/--
Heart pounding in his chest, his whole body feeling numb and tingly and frozen with fear, Chuuya realizes with startling calm:
He's going to hit me. I am going to get run over, right here in the driveway.
For a second, he just /stares/, waiting for the realization to connect with his body as Shuuji hurtles closer and /closer/ and /CLOSER/--
Then it's like all of his survival instincts roar to life at the same time, sending a shockjolt of adrenaline through him that sends him
Then it's like all of his survival instincts roar to life at the same time, sending a shockjolt of adrenaline through him that sends him
scrambling to the side, heart in his throat.
/Move, move, move, I have to move, get out of the /way/--/
There's a screech as Shuuji slams on the brakes. The sudden friction of the tires locking causes the back end to fishtail in /Chuuya's/ direction, oh my /god/--
/Move, move, move, I have to move, get out of the /way/--/
There's a screech as Shuuji slams on the brakes. The sudden friction of the tires locking causes the back end to fishtail in /Chuuya's/ direction, oh my /god/--
He rolls over onto the lawn, feeling a gut-wrenching sense of panic as he puts a little more distance between them. He rolls again, scrambling onto his hands and knees, craning his head to /look/--
There's a curb protecting him now, but with how /fast/ Shuuji was going, he ends
There's a curb protecting him now, but with how /fast/ Shuuji was going, he ends
sliding over the driveway, tires screeching, and halfway onto the lawn before the car finally comes to a stop.
It's only a handful of meters away from him, right on track to crush him underneath the tires.
Chuuya stares at the front of the vehicle, eyes wide and pulse pounding
It's only a handful of meters away from him, right on track to crush him underneath the tires.
Chuuya stares at the front of the vehicle, eyes wide and pulse pounding
too fast for him to keep up with.
There's the smell of burnt rubber in his nose, filling up his senses.
Oh my /god/,that really just--
That really almost happened.
He almost got ran the fuck over.
Relief doesn't last long. As soon as the car is stopped completely, Shuuji is
There's the smell of burnt rubber in his nose, filling up his senses.
Oh my /god/,that really just--
That really almost happened.
He almost got ran the fuck over.
Relief doesn't last long. As soon as the car is stopped completely, Shuuji is
slamming out of the car--
And that's when the /anger/ sets in.
"What the /FUCK/?" He shouts, rising up on his knees and throwing his hands up in the air. If he had something small nearby, he'd chuck it at Shuuji's head.
His entire body is shaking, but the fight isn't over yet.
And that's when the /anger/ sets in.
"What the /FUCK/?" He shouts, rising up on his knees and throwing his hands up in the air. If he had something small nearby, he'd chuck it at Shuuji's head.
His entire body is shaking, but the fight isn't over yet.
***** SCENE end.
Summary: Shuuji tries to run Chuuya over with his car. It doesn't work.
*****
Summary: Shuuji tries to run Chuuya over with his car. It doesn't work.
*****
Stomach-turning adrenaline is still racing through him like liquid electricity, forcing his heart to speed up until it /hurts/. "What the /fuck/ is wrong with you, Shuuji?" He shouts again, fighting the urge to throw up.
He's off-center, still reeling from the close call. His
He's off-center, still reeling from the close call. His
ghost feels like it's been flattened in the driveway, filling him with phantom aches of what /almost/ happened.
So when Shuuji stalks over and reaches down for him, grabbing his bicep in a painful grip and yanks him up with it, he's too startled to fight it.
He stumbles to his
So when Shuuji stalks over and reaches down for him, grabbing his bicep in a painful grip and yanks him up with it, he's too startled to fight it.
He stumbles to his
feet, fighting to get his breath back for another shout. His chest feels too small for the lingering terror.
"What the fuck is wrong with /me/?" Shuuji hisses, fury laced through his voice as he shoves Chuuya forward,closer to the house. "What the fuck is wrong with /you/? What,
"What the fuck is wrong with /me/?" Shuuji hisses, fury laced through his voice as he shoves Chuuya forward,closer to the house. "What the fuck is wrong with /you/? What,
is my dick not wrinkly enough for you, you sick freak? Need some money to get turned on like a common fucking whore?"
And god, everything is happening /so/ fast that he's reeling, trying to keep up with what's happening and his first thought is--
Oh, he knows.
His second?
And god, everything is happening /so/ fast that he's reeling, trying to keep up with what's happening and his first thought is--
Oh, he knows.
His second?
But he /doesn't/ have a wrinkly dick? It's pretty cute, actually.
That thought feels so absurd in this situation that he almost bursts out laughing,fueled by manic fear and adrenaline. God,what the fuck is happening.
He pulls on his arm, bracing his feet to get a better stance.
That thought feels so absurd in this situation that he almost bursts out laughing,fueled by manic fear and adrenaline. God,what the fuck is happening.
He pulls on his arm, bracing his feet to get a better stance.
But he's made a fatal mistake:
Shuuji is taller than him, and he's just about as strong.With the way he's holding Chuuya's arm up as he drags him along,it's really to fight that pull /or/ get his arm back under control.
"Fuck you, asshole," Chuuya snarls, kicking at his ankle.
Shuuji is taller than him, and he's just about as strong.With the way he's holding Chuuya's arm up as he drags him along,it's really to fight that pull /or/ get his arm back under control.
"Fuck you, asshole," Chuuya snarls, kicking at his ankle.
He can't think of anything smart to say right now, just mangled versions of insults.
Using the grip on his arm, Shuuji forcibly yanks him around. His foot catches on the step leading to the door, sending him stumbling with the momentum.
His back slams against the corner of the
Using the grip on his arm, Shuuji forcibly yanks him around. His foot catches on the step leading to the door, sending him stumbling with the momentum.
His back slams against the corner of the
door, the knob stabbing into his lower back harshly. The move knocks the breath out of him, making him arch away from the door with wide, pained eyes.
And just when he feels like his chest might expand again--
Hands encircle his throat tightly.
And just when he feels like his chest might expand again--
Hands encircle his throat tightly.
Chuuya's had hands around his neck often enough-- Dazai's hands, specifically-- that his first reaction isn't to panic or start struggling.
That's the only reason Shuuji manages to get both his hands around his throat and starts /squeezing/.
It's different than being choked by
That's the only reason Shuuji manages to get both his hands around his throat and starts /squeezing/.
It's different than being choked by
Dazai. When Dazai chokes him, the pressure is mostly on the sides, and it's a steady, constant pressure that doesn't waver even if he struggles a bit.
/This/ is Shuuji putting direct force onto his windpipe, like he's trying to crush it, and it's sharp stinging painful. He can't
/This/ is Shuuji putting direct force onto his windpipe, like he's trying to crush it, and it's sharp stinging painful. He can't
breathe past it.
"Fucking my dad wasn't enough for you, huh?Gotta embarrass me in front of the whole fucking school? Now everyone knows I was with a freak who had /daddy issues/!" Shuuji seethes,tightening his grip until it feels like his neck is going to be crushed.
And then--
"Fucking my dad wasn't enough for you, huh?Gotta embarrass me in front of the whole fucking school? Now everyone knows I was with a freak who had /daddy issues/!" Shuuji seethes,tightening his grip until it feels like his neck is going to be crushed.
And then--
Chuuya has had /enough/.
He's only ever been /nice/ and respectful to Shuuji, even when the fucker didn't deserve it. Sure, going behind his back to date his dad was kind of a dick move, but he doesn't deserve to be choked out and nearly fucking ran over because of it.
Then he
He's only ever been /nice/ and respectful to Shuuji, even when the fucker didn't deserve it. Sure, going behind his back to date his dad was kind of a dick move, but he doesn't deserve to be choked out and nearly fucking ran over because of it.
Then he
gets /mad/.
If Shuuji wants to fight, then fine, they'll fucking fight.
Thinking past the raw animal panic beginning to course through his veins, Chuuya brings his hands down and then up between Shuuji's arms. With all the strength he can muster he shoves his elbows outward,
If Shuuji wants to fight, then fine, they'll fucking fight.
Thinking past the raw animal panic beginning to course through his veins, Chuuya brings his hands down and then up between Shuuji's arms. With all the strength he can muster he shoves his elbows outward,
breaking the leverage he has to keep him pinned.
It brings Shuuji's face closer, just close enough for him too--
Slamming his head forward to smash his forehead against Shuuji's nose is agony on his neck, but it manages to break the hold he has on him.
Yelping in pain, Shuuji
It brings Shuuji's face closer, just close enough for him too--
Slamming his head forward to smash his forehead against Shuuji's nose is agony on his neck, but it manages to break the hold he has on him.
Yelping in pain, Shuuji
stumbles back a step, bringing a hand to his nose. It's not broken, but it is bleeding.
"You wanna fucking fight, asshole? Fine, let's fight," Chuuya snaps at him, reaching behind him to open the door. It's unlocked, and having his back against a wall without room to maneuver is
"You wanna fucking fight, asshole? Fine, let's fight," Chuuya snaps at him, reaching behind him to open the door. It's unlocked, and having his back against a wall without room to maneuver is
a bad idea. "Yeah, I fucked your dad, and he was a /lot/ better than you were. At least I was hard before he came, which is more than I can say for /you/."
He takes a step back, raising his hands in challenge and offering Shuuji his sharpest, most daring grin.
If he wants to
He takes a step back, raising his hands in challenge and offering Shuuji his sharpest, most daring grin.
If he wants to
be embarrassed, he'll embarrass the /fuck/ out of him.
"It's so unfortunate that the genetics skipped you, because while most of /your/ dick is in your personality, Dazai's..." he says, smug, measuring out a length with his hands that's probably only a /little/ exaggerated.
"It's so unfortunate that the genetics skipped you, because while most of /your/ dick is in your personality, Dazai's..." he says, smug, measuring out a length with his hands that's probably only a /little/ exaggerated.
He watches as Shuuji’s face turns satisfyingly red,mouth twisting into an ugly snarl.
Good.The angrier he is, the worse he’ll fight.
Keeping his distance warily,backing up in equal rhythm as Shuuji stalks forward,he watches as Shuuji reaches into his pocket—
And pulls a knife.
Good.The angrier he is, the worse he’ll fight.
Keeping his distance warily,backing up in equal rhythm as Shuuji stalks forward,he watches as Shuuji reaches into his pocket—
And pulls a knife.
Okay, okay, that’s /fine/, Chuuya can handle that.He’s trained with knives before. Those were training knives, made of thick rubber, and far more forgiving, and it’s been a while—
But it’s fine. He just has to keep his distance unless he can disarm him.
At least it’s not a gun.
But it’s fine. He just has to keep his distance unless he can disarm him.
At least it’s not a gun.
Planting a hand on the back of the couch, he vaults over it, landing on the other side with his knees bent. It creates more distance between them, puts an obstacle in Shuuji’s path.
“Are you afraid to fight me yourself, coward?” Chuuya asks, roiling with anger. “First your car,
“Are you afraid to fight me yourself, coward?” Chuuya asks, roiling with anger. “First your car,
now a knife. Can’t do it yourself?”
“I wouldn’t want to get the blood of some/thing/ as cheap and disgusting as you on my hands,” Shuuji seethes. He’s at the edge of the couch now, and instead of choosing a path to go around— which Chuuya can counter by going the opposite way—
“I wouldn’t want to get the blood of some/thing/ as cheap and disgusting as you on my hands,” Shuuji seethes. He’s at the edge of the couch now, and instead of choosing a path to go around— which Chuuya can counter by going the opposite way—
he bends down and grabs the lip of the couch in his hands—
And flips the whole fucking thing over, throwing it to the side.
Well, shit.
Now the stairs are blocked off, and most of the living room is opened up. Chuuya can still jump over the upturned couch, but he has to
And flips the whole fucking thing over, throwing it to the side.
Well, shit.
Now the stairs are blocked off, and most of the living room is opened up. Chuuya can still jump over the upturned couch, but he has to
turn his back to Shuuji to do it.
Which would be a /very/ bad idea.
Shuuji’s blocking thé exit to the front door. The back door is locked, as it usually is.
“I’m going to /ruin/ you,” Shuuji snarls, brandishing the knife. He’s stalking forward, forcing Chuuya to skirt around
Which would be a /very/ bad idea.
Shuuji’s blocking thé exit to the front door. The back door is locked, as it usually is.
“I’m going to /ruin/ you,” Shuuji snarls, brandishing the knife. He’s stalking forward, forcing Chuuya to skirt around
the island to keep something between them. “I’m going to tell /everyone/ that you’re a money hungry, desperate little whore that will spread his legs for anyone that looks at him long enough.”
See, /that’s/ what Chuuya was afraid of in the beginning. But now he’s too /angry/ so
See, /that’s/ what Chuuya was afraid of in the beginning. But now he’s too /angry/ so
he opens his mouth to tell him to go the fuck ahead—
Shuuji takes a running step, jumping up and sliding over the top of the island. Everything on top of it gets thrown to the floor with loud crashes.
Chuuya darts out of thé way, heading back into the living room. The floor is
Shuuji takes a running step, jumping up and sliding over the top of the island. Everything on top of it gets thrown to the floor with loud crashes.
Chuuya darts out of thé way, heading back into the living room. The floor is
covered in debris now though, making his steps rocky. He has to be careful where he steps so he doesn’t lose his balance and fall.
“I bet Dad didn’t even have to work hard, did he? What’d he do, take you on a little vacation, impress you a little, and you got on your knees?”
“I bet Dad didn’t even have to work hard, did he? What’d he do, take you on a little vacation, impress you a little, and you got on your knees?”
That one stings a little, because it’s partly true. He covers it up with another sneer.
Chuuya has many flaws, but one of his bigger ones is that when he’s /mad/, he’ll find the weak points of the person he’s mad at and sink his teeth in as hard as he can. He’s got a few anger
Chuuya has many flaws, but one of his bigger ones is that when he’s /mad/, he’ll find the weak points of the person he’s mad at and sink his teeth in as hard as he can. He’s got a few anger
issues which mostly means that he will /always/ escalate the situation.
Even when he’s staring down a knife.
Sneering, he flips Shuuji off. “He didn’t even have to do that. Remember that time you ditched our study session? I celebrated by fucking Dazai in your bed.”
Even when he’s staring down a knife.
Sneering, he flips Shuuji off. “He didn’t even have to do that. Remember that time you ditched our study session? I celebrated by fucking Dazai in your bed.”
It’s a lie. The time he’s talking about happened before he even got together with Dazai.
He hasn’t actually fucked Dazai in his bed at all, but the idea is /tempting/, now that he sees just how pissed off it makes Shuuji.
With an enraged shout, he lunges at Chuuya.
He hasn’t actually fucked Dazai in his bed at all, but the idea is /tempting/, now that he sees just how pissed off it makes Shuuji.
With an enraged shout, he lunges at Chuuya.
It’s just the opening he needs.
He jumps out of the way, managing to hook his foot underneath Shuuji’s shin as he goes past, tripping him up.
He goes down hard, knife outstretched in front of him.
Chuuya lunges for it, intending to get it out of his hands to make it a fair
He jumps out of the way, managing to hook his foot underneath Shuuji’s shin as he goes past, tripping him up.
He goes down hard, knife outstretched in front of him.
Chuuya lunges for it, intending to get it out of his hands to make it a fair
fight—
Shuuji’s free hand wraps behind Chuuya’s knee, yanking /hard/, pulling him off balance so quickly he can’t compensate for it, leg crumbling underneath him—
He falls backward with a yelp, arms flailing.
With a sharp /crack/, the back of his head hits the table.
Shuuji’s free hand wraps behind Chuuya’s knee, yanking /hard/, pulling him off balance so quickly he can’t compensate for it, leg crumbling underneath him—
He falls backward with a yelp, arms flailing.
With a sharp /crack/, the back of his head hits the table.
A flash of painful-tingling numbness courses down his spine,all the way down to his fingers and toes.White stars burst through his vision for a moment,leaving him breathless and dizzy.
His hands go limp and fuzzy, unresponsive—
And with the pain comes the unadulterated terror.
His hands go limp and fuzzy, unresponsive—
And with the pain comes the unadulterated terror.
Because—
He didn’t hit his head /that/ hard. He didn’t pass out and he’s not going to, it’s just a /shock/. The tingling and numbness is already beginning to fade away and his vision is clearing, he just needs a few more seconds to recover—
But he doesn’t have a few seconds.
He didn’t hit his head /that/ hard. He didn’t pass out and he’s not going to, it’s just a /shock/. The tingling and numbness is already beginning to fade away and his vision is clearing, he just needs a few more seconds to recover—
But he doesn’t have a few seconds.
Shuuji is already moving, crawling over him.
Raising his leg, Chuuya kicks at him, trying to give himself more time to recover. His arms feel weak but strength is coming back quickly, he just needs a little more /time/—
Snarling, Shuuji shoves his leg back to the floor,
Raising his leg, Chuuya kicks at him, trying to give himself more time to recover. His arms feel weak but strength is coming back quickly, he just needs a little more /time/—
Snarling, Shuuji shoves his leg back to the floor,
uncaring that the force makes it pop painfully. He pins his thigh by kneeling on it, taking away the leverage he needs to throw him off.
Chuuya’s hands find his shoulders, pushing him back as hard as he can. He’s heavy on top of him, leaning all of his weight onto his hands as
Chuuya’s hands find his shoulders, pushing him back as hard as he can. He’s heavy on top of him, leaning all of his weight onto his hands as
he bends down.
The hand with the knife comes to rest by Chuuya’s neck.
“Get off me,” Chuuya grunts, frantic, shoving him back as hard as he can but he’s so /heavy/, and his arms are trembling and his fucking head hurts, fuck, fuck, /fuck/.
Hot breath washes over his face,
The hand with the knife comes to rest by Chuuya’s neck.
“Get off me,” Chuuya grunts, frantic, shoving him back as hard as he can but he’s so /heavy/, and his arms are trembling and his fucking head hurts, fuck, fuck, /fuck/.
Hot breath washes over his face,
once again smelling faintly of ham in the most bizarre sense of déjà vu. “Why should I?” Shuuji sneers, shifting his weight so he can bring the knife up. “I thought you liked having someone on top of you, easy slut. You /like/ it, don’t you?”
People always call out for someone
People always call out for someone
when things start to get really bad. When they’re out of options, when their back is against the wall and they’re staring imminent death in the face, people always call for someone to help them.
Usually it’s parents. / “Mom!”/
But today Chuuya desperately thinks of the one
Usually it’s parents. / “Mom!”/
But today Chuuya desperately thinks of the one
person he knows can save him right now.
Not his dad, or his mom or even his sisters, but—
/ Fuck, Dazai, /please/ come home right now, I’m scared and I don’t want to die, please— /
And like he called it into existence, there’s a canine snarl from a few feet away.
/Yoko./
Not his dad, or his mom or even his sisters, but—
/ Fuck, Dazai, /please/ come home right now, I’m scared and I don’t want to die, please— /
And like he called it into existence, there’s a canine snarl from a few feet away.
/Yoko./
Relief blooms because /yes/, Dazai’s here, Yoko’s here, it’s all going to be okay now, it’s over—
And then dies just as quickly, because the /knife/, Shuuji still has the knife, he’s gonna hurt /Yoko/—
He struggles harder, fighting to throw him the /opposite/ way as Shuuji
And then dies just as quickly, because the /knife/, Shuuji still has the knife, he’s gonna hurt /Yoko/—
He struggles harder, fighting to throw him the /opposite/ way as Shuuji
turns to look at her—
A large hand clamps down on Shuuji’s shoulder, yanking him back with enough strength that he goes tumbling.
“I’d ask what the /fuck/ you were doing, but I don’t think I’d like the answer. Get the fuck off him.”
/Dazai/, oh fuck, thank /god/, it’s Dazai.
A large hand clamps down on Shuuji’s shoulder, yanking him back with enough strength that he goes tumbling.
“I’d ask what the /fuck/ you were doing, but I don’t think I’d like the answer. Get the fuck off him.”
/Dazai/, oh fuck, thank /god/, it’s Dazai.
With the weight off him, with the weight of terror slowly leaving his body, he feels like he can finally breathe again.
/Holy shit/, that was scary. It still feels like his heart is beating triple time, felt all the way down to his toes.
“Chuuya, are you okay?” Dazai asks.
/Holy shit/, that was scary. It still feels like his heart is beating triple time, felt all the way down to his toes.
“Chuuya, are you okay?” Dazai asks.
His voice is low, steady. Familiar and comforting.
Laying there catching his breath, Chuuya considers that.
His head is aching and there’s some faint ringing in his ears, but he doesn’t feel any blood. Doesn’t feel dizzy or nauseous either, and his vision is fine, so /probably/
Laying there catching his breath, Chuuya considers that.
His head is aching and there’s some faint ringing in his ears, but he doesn’t feel any blood. Doesn’t feel dizzy or nauseous either, and his vision is fine, so /probably/
no confusion.
His throat is aching too, and every breath stings but he can swallow and breathe without any physical difficultly. It’s definitely going to bruise though, and the thought of that makes his stomach clench unpleasantly.
There’s a line of pain running down his
His throat is aching too, and every breath stings but he can swallow and breathe without any physical difficultly. It’s definitely going to bruise though, and the thought of that makes his stomach clench unpleasantly.
There’s a line of pain running down his
spine, centered on the left side of his lower back from where he was thrown into the door. That will probably bruise too.
His knee aches, but it’s not popped out of place or anything.
All in all—
He’s bumped, bruised, and scratched up, but nothing that a hot bath and some
His knee aches, but it’s not popped out of place or anything.
All in all—
He’s bumped, bruised, and scratched up, but nothing that a hot bath and some
time won’t fix. Nothing he /needs/ to go to the hospital for.
It could’ve been a lot worse, actually. He’s lucky Dazai came when he did.
“Talk to me, baby, I need to know if you’re hurt.”
Groaning, Chuuya sits up. Kozo comes to check him out, sniffing over him anxiously. “I’m
It could’ve been a lot worse, actually. He’s lucky Dazai came when he did.
“Talk to me, baby, I need to know if you’re hurt.”
Groaning, Chuuya sits up. Kozo comes to check him out, sniffing over him anxiously. “I’m
fine, I guess,” he grumbles, and then gets inspired by a spark of evil pettiness, “but he pulled a knife on me, so.”
Dazai is standing squarely in front of him, blocking his view of Shuuji. Yoko is pacing just in front of him, snarls ripping out of her muzzle every so often.
Dazai is standing squarely in front of him, blocking his view of Shuuji. Yoko is pacing just in front of him, snarls ripping out of her muzzle every so often.
“Did he now?”
He’s never heard Dazai’s voice so /cold/, so threatening, dipped in lethal-cold mercury. It’s not even aimed at /him/, but it still makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
(Chuuya can’t see Dazai’s smile from here but /Shuuji/ can, and it’s cutting,
He’s never heard Dazai’s voice so /cold/, so threatening, dipped in lethal-cold mercury. It’s not even aimed at /him/, but it still makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
(Chuuya can’t see Dazai’s smile from here but /Shuuji/ can, and it’s cutting,
full of teeth and menace and—
If demons had human faces, their smiles would probably look like /this/.)
“Drop it,” Dazai orders.
Shuuji, probably realizing how /badly/ he fucked up, just stares at him and blinks. His hand doesn’t let go of the knife hilt, clutching onto it
If demons had human faces, their smiles would probably look like /this/.)
“Drop it,” Dazai orders.
Shuuji, probably realizing how /badly/ he fucked up, just stares at him and blinks. His hand doesn’t let go of the knife hilt, clutching onto it
as the temperature in the room starts to plummet.
Dazai’s smile grows. “Wrong answer,” he says, smooth as razor metal, tilting his head. “Yoko, fetch.”
With another vicious snarl ripping out of her, Yoko descends on him and sinks her teeth into Shuuji’s arm.
He screams.
Dazai’s smile grows. “Wrong answer,” he says, smooth as razor metal, tilting his head. “Yoko, fetch.”
With another vicious snarl ripping out of her, Yoko descends on him and sinks her teeth into Shuuji’s arm.
He screams.
His other hand starts to come up, probably to get Yoko off him by hitting her or yanking on her ears—
A black boot comes down with crushing force, grinding the bones of his wrist together underneath the full weight of Dazai’s body.
“Don’t touch my dog,” he says, sounding so
A black boot comes down with crushing force, grinding the bones of his wrist together underneath the full weight of Dazai’s body.
“Don’t touch my dog,” he says, sounding so
conversational even as he’s literally stepping on his own son while his dog tears at his arm.
Watching it is...
Shocking, to say the least.
Seeing Shuuji so effortlessly béaten down and in pain fills Chuuya with a vicious satisfaction, and the only thing he would change is
Watching it is...
Shocking, to say the least.
Seeing Shuuji so effortlessly béaten down and in pain fills Chuuya with a vicious satisfaction, and the only thing he would change is
that he wishes /he/ was the one crushing Shuji underneath his boots right now.
But Dazai is /concerning/.
Chuuya expected anger. Yelling, throwing things, maybe even more fighting. That seemed reasonable to him, even if a bit excessive because Shunji /is/ his son.
But
But Dazai is /concerning/.
Chuuya expected anger. Yelling, throwing things, maybe even more fighting. That seemed reasonable to him, even if a bit excessive because Shunji /is/ his son.
But
he doesn’t seem to care at all? He sounds almost /normal/,completely detached, like they could be having a conversation about the weather instead of watching Yoko rip at his arm.
(Dazai feels nothing but cold, yawning emptiness. He will not have anything taken from him anymore.)
(Dazai feels nothing but cold, yawning emptiness. He will not have anything taken from him anymore.)
Dazai crouches down, getting closer to Shuuji. “You have one option,” he tells him, “you can drop the knife, or we can see how long it takes Yoko to chew through your arm.”
Tears streaming down his face, Shuuji drops the knife. There’s blood dripping down his arm in slow trails.
Tears streaming down his face, Shuuji drops the knife. There’s blood dripping down his arm in slow trails.
Reaching over, Dazai plucks it off the ground and flips it into his grip with a skilled flick of his wrist.
“Thank you,” he says, standing up again and moving back. “Off, Yoko.”
With a final jerk of her head, she lets go. Her teeth are stained lightly with blood.
Shuuji
“Thank you,” he says, standing up again and moving back. “Off, Yoko.”
With a final jerk of her head, she lets go. Her teeth are stained lightly with blood.
Shuuji
brings his arm to chest, curling around it. The bite is deep enough to almost need stitches, the shape of Yoko’s teeth neatly torn into his skin.
Yoko goes back to pacing, this time closer to Chuuya. Her growls have quieted, but are still very much present.
“Explain yourself,”
Yoko goes back to pacing, this time closer to Chuuya. Her growls have quieted, but are still very much present.
“Explain yourself,”
Dazai barks, spinning the knife through his fingers and over his knuckles, casually skilled as he begins to pace lightly.
Chuuya's beginning to feel nervous because this...
This doesn't feel /normal/. This doesn't seem right. Even though Shuuji /was/ out of line, this doesn't
Chuuya's beginning to feel nervous because this...
This doesn't feel /normal/. This doesn't seem right. Even though Shuuji /was/ out of line, this doesn't
feel like /normal/ discipline.
Calling the cops would've been normal. Grounding him, kicking him out, having a screaming match with him, /that/ seemed normal.
This feels like something out of a Yakuza movie.
"That little /slut/ jumped me--," Shuuji starts, managing to sound
Calling the cops would've been normal. Grounding him, kicking him out, having a screaming match with him, /that/ seemed normal.
This feels like something out of a Yakuza movie.
"That little /slut/ jumped me--," Shuuji starts, managing to sound
irritated.
The knife flies, burying itself a few centimeters deep only a handbreadth away from Shuuji's crotch. Paling, he goes completely still, gulping down a panicked breath.
The air seems frigid with tension.
"Watch your mouth," Dazai warns, pointing a finger at him. "The
The knife flies, burying itself a few centimeters deep only a handbreadth away from Shuuji's crotch. Paling, he goes completely still, gulping down a panicked breath.
The air seems frigid with tension.
"Watch your mouth," Dazai warns, pointing a finger at him. "The
next one won't miss. And don't try to lie to me. He has /bruises/ on his neck, and you were holding a knife to his throat. I don't believe that he 'jumped you' so the next words out of your mouth better be /why/ I found you pinning my--" he stumbles here, the first time all
afternoon that something /human/ has peeked out of this cold, cruel display, "-- pinning /Chuuya/ to the ground, or I am going to get /angry/."
So /this/ isn't angry? What is this, then?
"He knows," Chuuya mutters, carefully probing at his neck. It stings under his touch, but
So /this/ isn't angry? What is this, then?
"He knows," Chuuya mutters, carefully probing at his neck. It stings under his touch, but
it doesn't /feel/ swollen or anything. He's not an expert, though he has spent an unreasonable amount of time getting to know his body when it's injured.
He doesn't know /how/ he knows, but considering he mentioned something about embarrassing him in front of everyone, then
He doesn't know /how/ he knows, but considering he mentioned something about embarrassing him in front of everyone, then
there was probably a video? Or maybe one of their mutual friends saw him and Dazai and told Dazai?
Frankly, he doesn't care right now, he just wants this to be /over/. Just wants to go take a shower and clean off the grass stains from rolling around earlier.
"Oh, so /that's/
Frankly, he doesn't care right now, he just wants this to be /over/. Just wants to go take a shower and clean off the grass stains from rolling around earlier.
"Oh, so /that's/
why," Dazai drawls, his voice shifting into something like predatory satisfaction, an animal on a hunt that finally found the trail. "You got upset when he told you we were dating, and you threw a fit. Got your ego hurt, so you decided to trash my house and take it out on someone
smaller than you, hm? Took him down when he was alone and unarmed?”
With every sentence he gains momentum, anger growing. He’s pacing faster, like he’s fighting the urge to go /at/ Shuuji.
One, two, three steps. Turn. One, two, three steps. Turn.
“What were you going to do
With every sentence he gains momentum, anger growing. He’s pacing faster, like he’s fighting the urge to go /at/ Shuuji.
One, two, three steps. Turn. One, two, three steps. Turn.
“What were you going to do
now that you had him pinned? Cut him up? Kill him? /Assault/ him?”
Goosebumps flare up on Chuuya’s arms. He hadn’t considered /that/ option before, but that bit at the end about /liking it/...
He shivers.
“I was just trying to /scare/ him, I wasn’t going to do anything,”
Goosebumps flare up on Chuuya’s arms. He hadn’t considered /that/ option before, but that bit at the end about /liking it/...
He shivers.
“I was just trying to /scare/ him, I wasn’t going to do anything,”
Shuuji.
“I’m fucking sure,” Chuuya mutters to himself, heaving himself to his feet. His knee cracks again when he sets weight on it, making pain flare up briefly before it settles again.
“Besides I have a /right/ to be angry. He was /mine/, and he cheated on me because you
“I’m fucking sure,” Chuuya mutters to himself, heaving himself to his feet. His knee cracks again when he sets weight on it, making pain flare up briefly before it settles again.
“Besides I have a /right/ to be angry. He was /mine/, and he cheated on me because you
/stole/ him! Honestly, Dad, you should be fucking ashamed of yourself. I can’t believe you would do that to me, and with someone so /young/. Are people your own age too hard to get with anymore, so you gotta go for low-hanging fruit?”
Dazai’s head swings towards him, locking
Dazai’s head swings towards him, locking
onto him with focused intensity. “Are you implying I’m /preying/ on him?”
Shuuji shrugs a little, inspecting his arm. “I didn’t /say/ that, but it’s pretty damn shitty of you to go for Chuuya as soon as I had my back turned when you /know/ I was interested in him.”
Dazai’s
Shuuji shrugs a little, inspecting his arm. “I didn’t /say/ that, but it’s pretty damn shitty of you to go for Chuuya as soon as I had my back turned when you /know/ I was interested in him.”
Dazai’s
smile—god, why is he /smiling/ at a time like this, why isn’t he frowning or scowling— is sharp. “You have a strange way of showing interest. Ignoring him, being rude, standing him up to go to a party instead. You didn’t want /him/ at all, did you, you just wanted to /fuck him/.”
He stops pacing then, and somehow that’s even worse, because now tension is coiling in his posture, fists clenching at his sides. A predator preparing to pounce. “I’m starting to think that this isn’t the /first/ time you pinned him, either. This isn’t the first time you’ve
taken advantage of him, is it? Because /someone/ taught him that his consent wasn’t /necessary/, and now I’m thinking it was /you/. What did you do? Did you—.”
“Dazai,” Chuuya says, cutting him off. He hadn’t told him about /that/ time, and he never intended to because it
“Dazai,” Chuuya says, cutting him off. He hadn’t told him about /that/ time, and he never intended to because it
doesn’t /matter/ anymore, and it wasn’t that bad. He’s over whatever lingering wariness he got because of it, and /that/ has nothing to do with what happened today.
Dazai’s head snaps toward him, and for the first time since he arrived, he’s looking directly at Chuuya.
He has
Dazai’s head snaps toward him, and for the first time since he arrived, he’s looking directly at Chuuya.
He has
to fight the urge to step back because—
He’s never seen eyes that /empty/ before.
Pitch black and unresponsive, like Dazai isn’t there anymore. None of the usual life in them is there anymore, just a emotionless black void, soul-sucking.
There’s something /wrong/ here.
He’s never seen eyes that /empty/ before.
Pitch black and unresponsive, like Dazai isn’t there anymore. None of the usual life in them is there anymore, just a emotionless black void, soul-sucking.
There’s something /wrong/ here.
Chuuya’s nerves are crawling with it because /this/ doesn’t look like Dazai.
“I’m okay,” he mutters, voice slightly rough from the bruising on his throat. He’s not sure what else to do besides stare at him, hoping to get the message across that’s he’s /fine/.
It was scary
“I’m okay,” he mutters, voice slightly rough from the bruising on his throat. He’s not sure what else to do besides stare at him, hoping to get the message across that’s he’s /fine/.
It was scary
and it sucked, but he made it through relatively unscathed. At this point, Shuuji is probably more injured than he is.
The longer Dazai stares at him, the more he takes him in, the more the void in his eyes seems to ease. The more his posture relaxes, inch by painful inch.
The longer Dazai stares at him, the more he takes him in, the more the void in his eyes seems to ease. The more his posture relaxes, inch by painful inch.
The more the coiled tension in the air fades away.
Without looking away from him, Dazai speaks again. “Get out.”
Honestly, how Shuuji has the nerve to look appalled and hurt, Chuuya doesn’t know.
“I get that I probably went too far but I was so /angry/. You should’ve heard
Without looking away from him, Dazai speaks again. “Get out.”
Honestly, how Shuuji has the nerve to look appalled and hurt, Chuuya doesn’t know.
“I get that I probably went too far but I was so /angry/. You should’ve heard
the things he was saying to me! He was deliberately pissing me off!Besides, I didn’t /actually/ hurt him, and I’m fucking bleeding. I’ll apologize but you both owe me one too for going behind my back like that.”
Chuuya’s eyebrows shoot up. That’s /bold/ of him to demand right
Chuuya’s eyebrows shoot up. That’s /bold/ of him to demand right
now, even if he /does/ have somewhat of a point.
He hadn't planned for him to find out like this, where the situation was out of his control. Maybe if they'd been able to have a /conversation/ instead of a /fight/, Chuuya would've actually apologized.
He can understand /why/
He hadn't planned for him to find out like this, where the situation was out of his control. Maybe if they'd been able to have a /conversation/ instead of a /fight/, Chuuya would've actually apologized.
He can understand /why/
Shuuji would be upset. If one of /his/ friends or romantic interests started dating his dad secretly, he'd be pretty upset too.
Of course, he wouldn't treat his interests the way Shuuji treated him, but semantics.
Right now though, Chuuya is too damn pissed off at the memory of
Of course, he wouldn't treat his interests the way Shuuji treated him, but semantics.
Right now though, Chuuya is too damn pissed off at the memory of
being nearly run over in the street like a goddamn dog to feel any pity for Shuuji whatsoever.
Speaking of...
His eyes slide to Dazai, who looks like he's /finally/ showing some real, bonafide anger instead of that creepy cold cruelty. Does he know about the running over part?
Speaking of...
His eyes slide to Dazai, who looks like he's /finally/ showing some real, bonafide anger instead of that creepy cold cruelty. Does he know about the running over part?
He guesses not, because he hasn't mentioned it at all, and that seems like something he'd be pretty pissed about.
Does he tell him? /Should/ he tell him?
He feels like he /should/-- he's taking this whole communication thing to heart, and nearly being run over on purpose feels
Does he tell him? /Should/ he tell him?
He feels like he /should/-- he's taking this whole communication thing to heart, and nearly being run over on purpose feels
too big to hide form him-- but at the same time, this situation feels perilously close to getting out of control.
Shuuji doesn't even look that sorry yet, though it looks like he's starting to get there, and Dazai has /already/ thrown a knife at him--which Chuuya didn't even
Shuuji doesn't even look that sorry yet, though it looks like he's starting to get there, and Dazai has /already/ thrown a knife at him--which Chuuya didn't even
he could do-- and set Yoko on him.
Dazai whirls on Shuuji, taking a step so he's looming over him. "You didn't /hurt him/? He can barely talk after you /strangled him/!"
That's a /little/ dramatic, he can speak just fine, his voice is just a little raspy.
With a hissed sound
Dazai whirls on Shuuji, taking a step so he's looming over him. "You didn't /hurt him/? He can barely talk after you /strangled him/!"
That's a /little/ dramatic, he can speak just fine, his voice is just a little raspy.
With a hissed sound
of pain, Shuuji rises to his feet. He keeps his arm close to his chest, but he doesn't back down at all, glaring up at Dazai with a twisted scowl.
Chuuya will give him one thing, and it's that the man does /not/ back down, even when he probably should.
"Well, I'd consider us
Chuuya will give him one thing, and it's that the man does /not/ back down, even when he probably should.
"Well, I'd consider us
even now. I'm bleeding because of your dog, he's a little bruised. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I need to see a doctor, so why don't we all apologize so we can move on with our lives?"
Chuuya must be more concussed than he thought he was, because is Shuuji really
Chuuya must be more concussed than he thought he was, because is Shuuji really
just trying to /move/ on? Is he trying to act like he's the reasonable adult in this situation?
Fuck trying to keep the situation controlled, Chuuya doesn't care anymore.
"/Move on/?" He cries, throwing his hands up. "You tried to run me over with your car less than fucking
Fuck trying to keep the situation controlled, Chuuya doesn't care anymore.
"/Move on/?" He cries, throwing his hands up. "You tried to run me over with your car less than fucking
twenty minutes ago? You really expect me to just 'move on' after that? What the fuck is wrong with you? Go to therapy instead of trying to kill me when you're mad at me?!"
Dazai /lunges/, so quickly that even Chuuya is letting out a noise of shock.
He's expecting him to throw a
Dazai /lunges/, so quickly that even Chuuya is letting out a noise of shock.
He's expecting him to throw a
punch or something like that--
/Not/ to backhand Shuuji so hard that he goes tumbling to the floor with a pained shout.
"I have been /much/ too kind to you," Dazai snarls, reaching down to pick Shuuji up by the front of his shirt and drag him back up. "You are /rude/ and
/Not/ to backhand Shuuji so hard that he goes tumbling to the floor with a pained shout.
"I have been /much/ too kind to you," Dazai snarls, reaching down to pick Shuuji up by the front of his shirt and drag him back up. "You are /rude/ and
inconsiderate, and a bully. You are /exactly/ like your mother."
"Maybe if you had actually given a /fuck/ about me before I became an adult and actually raised me, then I'd be a better person! This is /your/ fault for teaching me that not even my own Dad wanted anything to do
"Maybe if you had actually given a /fuck/ about me before I became an adult and actually raised me, then I'd be a better person! This is /your/ fault for teaching me that not even my own Dad wanted anything to do
with me!"
"That's not my fault!" Dazai roars back, shaking him like a ragdoll. "I TRIED. I /wanted/ to, and /she/ said I couldn't!"
Chuuya stares at the wall feeling like he shouldn't be hearing all of this, but he can't say he /isn't/ soaking up all the gossip, because /wow/.
"That's not my fault!" Dazai roars back, shaking him like a ragdoll. "I TRIED. I /wanted/ to, and /she/ said I couldn't!"
Chuuya stares at the wall feeling like he shouldn't be hearing all of this, but he can't say he /isn't/ soaking up all the gossip, because /wow/.
This family is pretty fucked up.
"LIAR!" Shuuji shouts, hands like claws in his shirt, "She told me your secret! She told me you've hated me since I was /born/, so stop acting like you've ever wanted to even look at me! Just admit you hate me!"
"I--" Dazai hesitates, some of
"LIAR!" Shuuji shouts, hands like claws in his shirt, "She told me your secret! She told me you've hated me since I was /born/, so stop acting like you've ever wanted to even look at me! Just admit you hate me!"
"I--" Dazai hesitates, some of
the anger draining out of him. "She told you that?"
"Yes," Shuuji snarls, leaning closer, like he can prove how angry and hurt he is by shoving it into Dazai's face, "I've known this /whole/ time."
"Shuuji, I've /never/ hated you. That's never been true."
There's an awkward
"Yes," Shuuji snarls, leaning closer, like he can prove how angry and hurt he is by shoving it into Dazai's face, "I've known this /whole/ time."
"Shuuji, I've /never/ hated you. That's never been true."
There's an awkward
silence that has Chuuya edging out of sight, towards the stairs. He doesn't want to remind them that this whole situation started with him getting almost-murdered, because clearly there is some deep-seated family issues here, and obviously they need to talk about it.
"I don't
"I don't
believe you," Shuuji mutters, and some of the anger is starting to fade away now. Now he just sounds confused and /lost/. "Why would she lie to me?"
For a second, Chuuya really does feel for him. He never had a mother, and there was a while where his siblings didn't really care
For a second, Chuuya really does feel for him. He never had a mother, and there was a while where his siblings didn't really care
for him either--
But he /always/ had his Dad. And Dad always told him how much he loved him and that his sisters /did/ like him, they were just struggling, and that his mother would've loved him.
To have one parent forcibly absent by the actions of the other one, while the
But he /always/ had his Dad. And Dad always told him how much he loved him and that his sisters /did/ like him, they were just struggling, and that his mother would've loved him.
To have one parent forcibly absent by the actions of the other one, while the
present one is actively destroying any relationship Shuuji might have had with Dazai?
He can't imagine what that'd feel like, to feel so viscerally and consistently...
Unloved. Unwanted.
Still doesn't excuse the fact that he pulled a knife on him, but it's clear now that he's
He can't imagine what that'd feel like, to feel so viscerally and consistently...
Unloved. Unwanted.
Still doesn't excuse the fact that he pulled a knife on him, but it's clear now that he's
hurting. Been hurting, for a long time, and no one cared to notice.
"I don't know, but she did," Dazai mutters, sounding much more tired than before. He hasn't let go of Shuuji yet, but he's not shaking him anymore.
"If it /was/ a lie, then why have you been acting like you
"I don't know, but she did," Dazai mutters, sounding much more tired than before. He hasn't let go of Shuuji yet, but he's not shaking him anymore.
"If it /was/ a lie, then why have you been acting like you
hated me this entire time? And when mom moved here, why didn't you /try/ to fix things between you guys? We could be a /family/, but you're with /him/ instead!"
Chuuya pauses. Sasaki moved to Yokohama?
"Is that what this is about? You think Chuuya is ruining our 'family' or
Chuuya pauses. Sasaki moved to Yokohama?
"Is that what this is about? You think Chuuya is ruining our 'family' or
something? You think I like him better than I like you?"
Shuuji doesn't respond, which is answer enough.
Dazai heaves a sigh. "Look, it sounds like we need to have a talk, because obviously Sasaki has left quite a few things out when she was telling you things. We will talk
Shuuji doesn't respond, which is answer enough.
Dazai heaves a sigh. "Look, it sounds like we need to have a talk, because obviously Sasaki has left quite a few things out when she was telling you things. We will talk
about it. But not right now. Right now, you need to leave."
Shuuji gapes at him. "Leave? You /just/ said you didn't hate me?!"
"The person who tried to ran over my boyfriend doesn't get to sleep in the same house as him," Dazai grunts, dragging Shuuji over to the front door.
Shuuji gapes at him. "Leave? You /just/ said you didn't hate me?!"
"The person who tried to ran over my boyfriend doesn't get to sleep in the same house as him," Dazai grunts, dragging Shuuji over to the front door.
Shuuji struggles the entire way, scowling. "But Dad, I don't have anywhere else to go."
His voice cracks near the end of the sentence, making Chuuya's heart squeeze in sympathy. Being kicked out of your house suddenly would be terrible.
"Should've thought of that /before/ you
His voice cracks near the end of the sentence, making Chuuya's heart squeeze in sympathy. Being kicked out of your house suddenly would be terrible.
"Should've thought of that /before/ you
tried to kill him," Dazai says, shoving his hands in his pockets and pulling out the car keys. "Call someone. Ranpo. Your mom. It doesn't matter, but you're not welcome here anymore and you're not driving my car."
"You're /really/ going to choose that gold-digging whore over
"You're /really/ going to choose that gold-digging whore over
your own son?!"
"Yeah," Dazai mutters, shoving him out of the door, "I am."
Chuuya recoils, hurt filling him. Why would Dazai say that? Why would he agree with that?
...He doesn't /actually/ believe that, right?
Right?
The door shuts, and Dazai leans his forehead against it
"Yeah," Dazai mutters, shoving him out of the door, "I am."
Chuuya recoils, hurt filling him. Why would Dazai say that? Why would he agree with that?
...He doesn't /actually/ believe that, right?
Right?
The door shuts, and Dazai leans his forehead against it
for a long moment, just breathing.
Chuuya stares at him for a second, wondering if he's going to say that he didn't /mean/ it, or to ask if he's okay again, or /anything/--
And when he doesn't move, eventually Chuuya turns away, eyeing up the couch situation. He /really/ wants
Chuuya stares at him for a second, wondering if he's going to say that he didn't /mean/ it, or to ask if he's okay again, or /anything/--
And when he doesn't move, eventually Chuuya turns away, eyeing up the couch situation. He /really/ wants
a shower, but his back has stiffened up a little bit ever since he stopped moving, and he's not sure if he can lift the couch back into place right now.
He'll have to climb over it, but that feels rude to put his feet on the couch.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Dazai's
He'll have to climb over it, but that feels rude to put his feet on the couch.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Dazai's
voice startles him, making him flinch a little.
"Um," he says, looking between him and the couch, "To take a shower?"
Dazai pushes off the door, walking over to him quickly. "Not until I've had a look at you."
Chuuya almost goes to say that he's /fine/ again, but then he sees
"Um," he says, looking between him and the couch, "To take a shower?"
Dazai pushes off the door, walking over to him quickly. "Not until I've had a look at you."
Chuuya almost goes to say that he's /fine/ again, but then he sees
how drawn Dazai's face is, and how pale he looks.
It wouldn't hurt to let him fuss and worry over him, see for himself that Chuuya isn't injured. He closes his mouth again, bobbing his head slightly. Nodding hurts too much right now.
With a little grunt, Dazai bends down to
It wouldn't hurt to let him fuss and worry over him, see for himself that Chuuya isn't injured. He closes his mouth again, bobbing his head slightly. Nodding hurts too much right now.
With a little grunt, Dazai bends down to
grab the arm of the couch and lifts it. He drags it away from the stairs, righting it but not bothering to actually put it back in it's place.
Before Chuuya can even move a muscle, Dazai is making his way back over. Hands finding the back of his thighs, he sweeps him up into his
Before Chuuya can even move a muscle, Dazai is making his way back over. Hands finding the back of his thighs, he sweeps him up into his
arms.
Chuuya could protest or struggle, but after everything that's happened in the last hour, he just wants to be /held/. Dazai is warm and solid and comforting beneath him, the perfect thing for Chuuya to curl himself around and just...
Try to forget what seeing his life
Chuuya could protest or struggle, but after everything that's happened in the last hour, he just wants to be /held/. Dazai is warm and solid and comforting beneath him, the perfect thing for Chuuya to curl himself around and just...
Try to forget what seeing his life
flash before his eyes was like. Try to forget what being on the verge of death felt like.
------ +
Dazai's hands are shaking. Subtle, probably subtle enough that Chuuya doesn't even notice, but he knows.
His hands /never/ shake. It's been trained out of him, ever since he was
------ +
Dazai's hands are shaking. Subtle, probably subtle enough that Chuuya doesn't even notice, but he knows.
His hands /never/ shake. It's been trained out of him, ever since he was
old enough to reliably hold a gun. Steady hands, steady grip, steady aim.
His heart is still pounding too, sickening thumps in his chest that feel too slow and too fast at the same time, pumping acid-burning anxiety through his veins like poison.
He sets Chuuya down on the
His heart is still pounding too, sickening thumps in his chest that feel too slow and too fast at the same time, pumping acid-burning anxiety through his veins like poison.
He sets Chuuya down on the
counter in his bathroom as gently as he can. There's a first aid kit in here, freshly-stocked.
Peeling his hands away from his legs feels like physical pain. Every fiber of Dazai's being is screaming at him to hold him close, to curl himself around Chuuya as tightly as possible,
Peeling his hands away from his legs feels like physical pain. Every fiber of Dazai's being is screaming at him to hold him close, to curl himself around Chuuya as tightly as possible,
to keep him warm and secure in the safety of his arms.
He could've /lost/ him. At least twice.
He has to drop a kiss on his forehead just to convince himself to let go for long enough to dig underneath the cabinet and pull out the first aid kit.
Setting it on the counter next
He could've /lost/ him. At least twice.
He has to drop a kiss on his forehead just to convince himself to let go for long enough to dig underneath the cabinet and pull out the first aid kit.
Setting it on the counter next
to them, he pops the lock on it and opens it. He's not sure what he needs--he hasn't /seen/ any blood, but Chuuya is wearing dark clothing and has red hair--so he's glad that he restocked it recently.
Using the hand sanitizer shoved in the box, he cleans his hands quickly before
Using the hand sanitizer shoved in the box, he cleans his hands quickly before
shoving his sleeves up and out of the way.
"Alright," he murmurs, trying to keep his voice steady. Chuuya just got /attacked/, he doesn't need to handle his emotional breakdown on top of it too. "Let me see, sweetheart."
The injury he's most concerned about is his throat. It
"Alright," he murmurs, trying to keep his voice steady. Chuuya just got /attacked/, he doesn't need to handle his emotional breakdown on top of it too. "Let me see, sweetheart."
The injury he's most concerned about is his throat. It
looked concerning downstairs, but in the new light of the bathroom, it looks downright ugly.
It's already starting to bruise, greyish-purple splotches starting to appear in the form of fingers. There's two rings of them, stacked tightly on top of each other.
With a gentle
It's already starting to bruise, greyish-purple splotches starting to appear in the form of fingers. There's two rings of them, stacked tightly on top of each other.
With a gentle
fingertip, he guides Chuuya's chin upward, mindful of the way his mouth twists downward in discomfort when the skin stretches. With his other hand, he probes lightly at his throat as softly as he can, checking for structural damage.
"Can you swallow for me?" He murmurs, laying
"Can you swallow for me?" He murmurs, laying
his palm over his throat to feel it move. "Can you breathe okay? Speak?"
Chuuya swallows first, and then rasps out a "Yes."
Dazai frowns at his voice. It's rough, a bit too rough for his tastes. "I should take you to the hospital," he mutters to himself, sliding his hand
Chuuya swallows first, and then rasps out a "Yes."
Dazai frowns at his voice. It's rough, a bit too rough for his tastes. "I should take you to the hospital," he mutters to himself, sliding his hand
around to the back of his head. He'd noticed Chuuya was touching it and wincing, so he's guessing he hit his head at some point.
"I don't want to go," Chuuya grumbles, wincing when his fingers brush over a certain spot in the middle. "I'm fine and they're just going to make us
"I don't want to go," Chuuya grumbles, wincing when his fingers brush over a certain spot in the middle. "I'm fine and they're just going to make us
wait forever just to tell us the same thing. Besides, they'll call my dad and then I'll have to stay up all night talking to him to reassure him that I'm okay. Doctors probably won't even do anything besides send me home with a pain prescription anyways."
Sure, but the
Sure, but the
difference is that /they/ have a medical degree, and /Chuuya/ habitually pushes himself past his own limits. Dazai would feel /much/ more comfortable if Chuuya's head got x-rayed, and his throat checked.
"You're so goddamn stubborn," he sighs heavily, tracing the outline of the
"You're so goddamn stubborn," he sighs heavily, tracing the outline of the
bump on the back of his head. It's small, somewhat hard under his fingers and hot, but there's no blood.
"Don't yell at me right now," Chuuya grumbles, his forehead thumping into his chest lightly. "I don't like hospitals."
(Really, that's an understatement. Ever since his
"Don't yell at me right now," Chuuya grumbles, his forehead thumping into his chest lightly. "I don't like hospitals."
(Really, that's an understatement. Ever since his
stint with pneumonia, he's hated them. They smell like sanitized death, and half the time he feels like he's dying whenever he's in one.
It's probably not helped by the fact that every time /since/ the pneumonia, he's stubbornly refused to go until he was literally being carried
It's probably not helped by the fact that every time /since/ the pneumonia, he's stubbornly refused to go until he was literally being carried
or wheeled into the hospital, but technicalities.)
"I just want to make sure you're okay, baby," Dazai says, moving his hand down so he's cupping the back of his neck and pulling him close. He tips his face down, pressing his lips to the top of his head and just breathing him
"I just want to make sure you're okay, baby," Dazai says, moving his hand down so he's cupping the back of his neck and pulling him close. He tips his face down, pressing his lips to the top of his head and just breathing him
in.
His shampoo smells like honey and vanilla. Dazai's chest is starting to loosen, the sick pounding of his heart beginning to settle down.
"I'm okay," Chuuya insists, leaning into him and wrapping his arms around his waist. One of his ankles hooks behind Dazai's knee, like
His shampoo smells like honey and vanilla. Dazai's chest is starting to loosen, the sick pounding of his heart beginning to settle down.
"I'm okay," Chuuya insists, leaning into him and wrapping his arms around his waist. One of his ankles hooks behind Dazai's knee, like
he's trying to keep him close.
Like Dazai would rather be anywhere rather than here.
Then Chuuya counters with a question he wasn't expecting, not in this context and not like this.
"Are /you/ okay?"
He doesn't move when he asks, granting Dazai the reprieve of being able to
Like Dazai would rather be anywhere rather than here.
Then Chuuya counters with a question he wasn't expecting, not in this context and not like this.
"Are /you/ okay?"
He doesn't move when he asks, granting Dazai the reprieve of being able to
Embarrassingly enough, considering all things they’ve done, even though Chuuya has had Dazai so far inside him he might as well have been in his /soul/—
He blushes at that, and looks away because the openly adoring look on his face is /too much/. The way he laughs, soft and
He blushes at that, and looks away because the openly adoring look on his face is /too much/. The way he laughs, soft and
hide his expression as he thinks because--
No, he's not alright.
After the entire shitshow yesterday-- the thing with Ranpo /still/ has him knocked on his ass, because he never thought of it that way, the fact that he came back to Yokohama just to put himself back into the
No, he's not alright.
After the entire shitshow yesterday-- the thing with Ranpo /still/ has him knocked on his ass, because he never thought of it that way, the fact that he came back to Yokohama just to put himself back into the
underground power structure even further up the hierarchy. He told himself that it was /different/, because he was different, and he wasn't directing the clans himself but--
A demon by any other name is still a demon, is it not? Mori intended to put him on the throne, and Dazai
A demon by any other name is still a demon, is it not? Mori intended to put him on the throne, and Dazai
killed him to escape, only to choose a better one for himself.
Maybe he didn't change that much after all.
Plus the argument with Chuuya-- which seems like a /prophecy/ now, because if he had insisted that they should tell Shuuji yesterday instead of waiting, this wouldn't
Maybe he didn't change that much after all.
Plus the argument with Chuuya-- which seems like a /prophecy/ now, because if he had insisted that they should tell Shuuji yesterday instead of waiting, this wouldn't
have happened. If he'd been /thinking/ instead of just reacting, he could've prevented this.
This is his fault. Even if not for preventing the situation in the first place, then for not regulating Shuuji's behavior hard enough before. By not trying to bond with his son, by
This is his fault. Even if not for preventing the situation in the first place, then for not regulating Shuuji's behavior hard enough before. By not trying to bond with his son, by
not pushing hard enough, by letting him push him /away/.
He'd been antsy about leaving Chuuya alone at home too, and his /gut/ had said that something was wrong, that he shouldn't leave him by himself. He'd pushed the feeling away, thinking it was some separation anxiety that he
He'd been antsy about leaving Chuuya alone at home too, and his /gut/ had said that something was wrong, that he shouldn't leave him by himself. He'd pushed the feeling away, thinking it was some separation anxiety that he
didn't want to encourage by giving into it.
He can't say that he /knew/ this would happen, because he didn't, he didn't even /predict/ it, because Chuuya said he wanted to tell Shuuji later--
But no matter how he looks at the situation, no matter how he twists it around to look
He can't say that he /knew/ this would happen, because he didn't, he didn't even /predict/ it, because Chuuya said he wanted to tell Shuuji later--
But no matter how he looks at the situation, no matter how he twists it around to look
at it in different ways--
There's always some part of this that is /his/ fault. He could've prevented it, could've thought ahead more, could've insisted he was here.
But he didn't, and Chuuya paid the price for it.
Almost paid with his /life/.
Maybe Chuuya feels the way
There's always some part of this that is /his/ fault. He could've prevented it, could've thought ahead more, could've insisted he was here.
But he didn't, and Chuuya paid the price for it.
Almost paid with his /life/.
Maybe Chuuya feels the way
his heart squeezes painfully in his chest, pulse tripping up, because he's squeezing him tighter, burying his face in his chest with a content hum.
God, he's /so/ sweet, Dazai doesn't deserve him.
And he doesn't deserve the inherent danger that comes with being associated with
God, he's /so/ sweet, Dazai doesn't deserve him.
And he doesn't deserve the inherent danger that comes with being associated with
Dazai. He doesn't deserve a life of danger and always looking over his shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
That's the only life Dazai can reasonably provide for him.
But--
Leaning back and smiling slightly at the grumbled noise Chuuya makes as he dislodges him, he
That's the only life Dazai can reasonably provide for him.
But--
Leaning back and smiling slightly at the grumbled noise Chuuya makes as he dislodges him, he
cups his face and gently, oh so gently,guides him backwards so he can lean down and kiss him--
How is he ever supposed to let this /go/? How is he supposed to be okay with not having this, Chuuya sweet and pliant underneath him? How is he supposed to know what /this/ feels like,
How is he ever supposed to let this /go/? How is he supposed to be okay with not having this, Chuuya sweet and pliant underneath him? How is he supposed to know what /this/ feels like,
waking up next to someone, cooking for someone, getting selfies from Chuuya when he's in break during class with the only caption being "I miss you 💖", getting to share himself on a level he's never done before--
How is he supposed to let that go?
How is he supposed to /not/
How is he supposed to let that go?
How is he supposed to /not/
hang onto that with everything he has, even if it means cheating and stealing and doing /whatever/ it takes--
Including lying. Because at this point, he's sure that not telling Chuuya about his work and about his past counts as lying. Lies of omission, but still lying.
It makes
Including lying. Because at this point, he's sure that not telling Chuuya about his work and about his past counts as lying. Lies of omission, but still lying.
It makes
him a hypocrite, he /knows/ that, considering he literally just tore into Chuuya yesterday about not communicating but--
How does he relate his deepest, darkest, most agonizing and painful parts of his life that he /still/ participates in and is affected by, while knowing that
How does he relate his deepest, darkest, most agonizing and painful parts of his life that he /still/ participates in and is affected by, while knowing that
it will probably make Chuuya leave?
How is he supposed to talk about the things that ruined his life, when he knows it will probably take away the most important thing to him, the person Dazai /just/ found?
Chuuya's hands slide up into his hair, brushing over the undercut
How is he supposed to talk about the things that ruined his life, when he knows it will probably take away the most important thing to him, the person Dazai /just/ found?
Chuuya's hands slide up into his hair, brushing over the undercut
gently before tangling into the longer strands. It breaks him from his thoughts neatly, interrupting the ever-downward spiral.
Dazai smiles into the kiss. He's noticed that Chuuya likes to run his fingers over his undercut, likes to play with the short strands until it makes him
Dazai smiles into the kiss. He's noticed that Chuuya likes to run his fingers over his undercut, likes to play with the short strands until it makes him
shiver. He'll have to cut it again soon, since he likes it so much. It's been weeks, and now it's more of a short hairstyle than a shave.
He presses a little further into the kiss, pouring all his emotion into the slide of his lips, the affectionate swipe of his tongue over his
He presses a little further into the kiss, pouring all his emotion into the slide of his lips, the affectionate swipe of his tongue over his
bottom lip.
He can't /say/ what he needs to say, can't put this feeling in his chest into words, so he has to resort to kissing him until his lips are buzzing and Chuuya's eyes are half-lidded and dazed.
"I'm fine, sweet chibi," he murmurs, brushing another kiss onto his lips,
He can't /say/ what he needs to say, can't put this feeling in his chest into words, so he has to resort to kissing him until his lips are buzzing and Chuuya's eyes are half-lidded and dazed.
"I'm fine, sweet chibi," he murmurs, brushing another kiss onto his lips,
unwilling to add onto the struggles Chuuya already suffered through today. He's starting to feel better, now that he has his baby wrapped up in his arms. Spoiling him will help them both. Lets his bruises and scrapes heal up without a problem, while Dazai recovers from the
emotional atom bomb Shuuji dropped on him earlier.
Speaking of...
"Why did you tell him when I wasn't here?" He asks, reaching down to help Chuuya out of his shirt.
With a light grimace, he raises his arms so the fabric can slide easily over his head. "I didn't tell him," he
Speaking of...
"Why did you tell him when I wasn't here?" He asks, reaching down to help Chuuya out of his shirt.
With a light grimace, he raises his arms so the fabric can slide easily over his head. "I didn't tell him," he
admits, twisting his head to look over his shoulder at the forming bruise. "He knew,somehow. I think someone told him, or maybe someone took a video of us and posted it somewhere. I don't know. I was /going/ to tell him, but he already knew."
Dazai goes still, heartrate spiking.
Dazai goes still, heartrate spiking.
/Fuck/. That's /bad/, so fucking bad.
Videos are /evidence/, and if Shuuji figured out they were dating from a video, then it must be pretty incriminating.
If it was posted /publicly/, that means /anyone/ could see it, including /every single one/ of Dazai's enemies. If /they/
Videos are /evidence/, and if Shuuji figured out they were dating from a video, then it must be pretty incriminating.
If it was posted /publicly/, that means /anyone/ could see it, including /every single one/ of Dazai's enemies. If /they/
catch even a /hint/ of how much Dazai cares for Chuuya, that /immediately/ puts him on all of their radars.
If Ranpo knowing about him wasn't bad enough, now there's a huge possibility that the /entire/ underground knows about Chuuya.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He's a /target/ now.
If Ranpo knowing about him wasn't bad enough, now there's a huge possibility that the /entire/ underground knows about Chuuya.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He's a /target/ now.
And the /worst/ part is that /neither/ of them have enough information that Dazai can do damage control. He can't limit who sees it,or delete the footage,because he doesn't know /anything/ about who took it,where it was posted, or even /if/ it was posted.
He can't do /anything/.
He can't do /anything/.
Now they're sitting in the middle of a situation Dazai can't control and--
If Chuuya thought attempted vehicular manslaughter was bad, he won't even be able to /comprehend/ the levels of depravity and pain his enemies will go to if they think it'll give them an edge over Dazai.
If Chuuya thought attempted vehicular manslaughter was bad, he won't even be able to /comprehend/ the levels of depravity and pain his enemies will go to if they think it'll give them an edge over Dazai.
But Dazai can.
Once, when he was sixteen, he was captured by one of the Port Mafia's enemy organizations. The Yamaguchi-gumi was an old organization, steeped in tradition and the respect and arrogance that came with age.
It was exactly those characteristics that Dazai used
Once, when he was sixteen, he was captured by one of the Port Mafia's enemy organizations. The Yamaguchi-gumi was an old organization, steeped in tradition and the respect and arrogance that came with age.
It was exactly those characteristics that Dazai used
against them to grind their clan into the dirt.
And at the end, when it was clear that the clan wasn't going to survive--
Their boss, Shinbou Tsukasa, had gotten /bold/. He'd turned all his resources into capturing Dazai. His plan was to go out in a blaze of glory, with his
And at the end, when it was clear that the clan wasn't going to survive--
Their boss, Shinbou Tsukasa, had gotten /bold/. He'd turned all his resources into capturing Dazai. His plan was to go out in a blaze of glory, with his
enemy being gutted in front of him before he took his own life.
// "But first..." //
Dazai can still hear that raspy, hissing voice in his dreams sometimes, curling down his spine like rotting blood.
// "I want to see if you're really a demon under that human skin." //
// "But first..." //
Dazai can still hear that raspy, hissing voice in his dreams sometimes, curling down his spine like rotting blood.
// "I want to see if you're really a demon under that human skin." //
He'd planned to strip the skin from his back, using a wickedly sharp knife to slice the skin away to reveal muscle and bone and blood.
Back then, Dazai had only been mildly curious to see how long it would take for him to start screaming. He was too traumatized to feel real fear
Back then, Dazai had only been mildly curious to see how long it would take for him to start screaming. He was too traumatized to feel real fear
back then, too distant to feel much of anything--
But he feels it now, imagining Chuuya under the knife of someone who wants to hurt him. In the hands of /anyone/ Dazai didn't explicitly trust.
That can't happen. He's already been hanging onto the shreds of his self-control for
But he feels it now, imagining Chuuya under the knife of someone who wants to hurt him. In the hands of /anyone/ Dazai didn't explicitly trust.
That can't happen. He's already been hanging onto the shreds of his self-control for
the past few days.
Finding Shuuji pinning Chuuya to the floor with his baby struggling as hard as he could /nearly/ shoved him off the edge. There had been a /few/ moments there when all his thoughts had dissolved in a whirlwind of rage and fear.
Where he hadn't been /Dazai/,
Finding Shuuji pinning Chuuya to the floor with his baby struggling as hard as he could /nearly/ shoved him off the edge. There had been a /few/ moments there when all his thoughts had dissolved in a whirlwind of rage and fear.
Where he hadn't been /Dazai/,
but the /demon/. Thoughts running on hyperdrive, but also uncontrollable, leaving him down dark, horrific paths that would drive any normal person insane.
It's shocking that he's gotten so protective of Chuuya so quickly-- or maybe not shocking, considering everything, but he's
It's shocking that he's gotten so protective of Chuuya so quickly-- or maybe not shocking, considering everything, but he's
never gotten attached to someone so /quickly/. It took him months of forced interactions with Yosano and Oda before he got attached to them, and he has yet to feel any strong attachment to his son-- but that's quickly leading to a /problem/.
Because he's /selfish/. Even knowing
Because he's /selfish/. Even knowing
all this, knowing what /could/ happen, knowing that logically, it would be better for Chuuya if Dazai broke it off and protected him from afar--
He doesn't want to let go. He wants to be wrapped around Chuuya so thoroughly that the little chibi can't even take a /breath/ without
He doesn't want to let go. He wants to be wrapped around Chuuya so thoroughly that the little chibi can't even take a /breath/ without
feeling Dazai in his lungs. He wants his entire /world/ to be him. Him and nothing and no one else.
Is that healthy? No, probably not, but he's never been healthy before, so why start now?
It'll be fine, he reasons with himself as he reaches out to help Chuuya with his jeans,
Is that healthy? No, probably not, but he's never been healthy before, so why start now?
It'll be fine, he reasons with himself as he reaches out to help Chuuya with his jeans,
he'll just...
Take care of it. Quietly, quickly. Chuuya never has to know.
He /can/ protect him, it's just /taxing/ because he's the only one he trusts with his safety. There are other people he could call, but the only person he /knows/ will put Chuuya's safety over anything
Take care of it. Quietly, quickly. Chuuya never has to know.
He /can/ protect him, it's just /taxing/ because he's the only one he trusts with his safety. There are other people he could call, but the only person he /knows/ will put Chuuya's safety over anything
else is /him/.
He can do this. He /has/ to do this.
There's a bruise on Chuuya's thigh that has him frowning in sympathy, examining it. It's circular, in the shape of Shuuji's knee. Probably a bit uncomfortable, but nothing compared to the bruising on his throat or on his back.
He can do this. He /has/ to do this.
There's a bruise on Chuuya's thigh that has him frowning in sympathy, examining it. It's circular, in the shape of Shuuji's knee. Probably a bit uncomfortable, but nothing compared to the bruising on his throat or on his back.
"Alright," Dazai mutters, too exhausted to argue, "I can't make you go to the hospital, but if you so much as cough or wheze /once/ then I'm calling an ambulance, and then it will be /really/ embarrassing."
Chuuya's not showing any signs of concussion-- no slurring of words, no
Chuuya's not showing any signs of concussion-- no slurring of words, no
dizziness or loss of consciousness, no throwing up. Pupils are responsive to light and equal to each other, and he holds a conversation well.
Overall Dazai is /iffy/ about letting him stay home without a doctors note, but there's no way /he's/ sleeping tonight, so he'll just
Overall Dazai is /iffy/ about letting him stay home without a doctors note, but there's no way /he's/ sleeping tonight, so he'll just
keep an eye on him and make sure nothing changes. Wake him up a few times in the middle of the night.
"Fine," Chuuya huffs, reaching over to turn on the shower. He likes his showers boiling hot, Dazai has noticed, which would be /unbearable/ for him, if it didn't turn him an
"Fine," Chuuya huffs, reaching over to turn on the shower. He likes his showers boiling hot, Dazai has noticed, which would be /unbearable/ for him, if it didn't turn him an
adorable shade of pink all over.
It's when his back is turned, adjusting all the lights and water of the shower when he asks: "Did you mean it? What you said?"
Dazai pauses in removing his own shirt, casting back to figure out what exactly Chuuya's talking about. He said a
It's when his back is turned, adjusting all the lights and water of the shower when he asks: "Did you mean it? What you said?"
Dazai pauses in removing his own shirt, casting back to figure out what exactly Chuuya's talking about. He said a
/lot/ of things today, from sweet little whispers in Chuuya's ear while he fucked him until he cried to harsh things downstairs that he probably should not have been witness to.
He meant /most/ of it, anyways, he's just not sure what /specifically/ he's talking about. Tossing
He meant /most/ of it, anyways, he's just not sure what /specifically/ he's talking about. Tossing
his shirt in the hamper, he starts in on his jeans.He's less careful with his own pants than he was with Chuuya's,unbuttoning them quickly and shoving them down to his thighs before reaching down to pull them off. "Mean what?"
"When you basically called me a gold-digging whore."
"When you basically called me a gold-digging whore."
Dazai stills, his pants halfway off his ankle. "I... didn't call you that?"
He would /never/ say anything like that, because it's not true. Chuuya /barely/ lets him buy him anything at all.
Even if it was true, it's not like he cares. If Chuuya wants his money, he can have it.
He would /never/ say anything like that, because it's not true. Chuuya /barely/ lets him buy him anything at all.
Even if it was true, it's not like he cares. If Chuuya wants his money, he can have it.
He can have it all, as far as Dazai is concerned.
"No, but Shuuji said it and you agreed with him," Chuuya says, his back still turned to him as he steps underneath the spray of the water, "I realize I might be thinking too much into it, because /you/ didn't say it, but you said
"No, but Shuuji said it and you agreed with him," Chuuya says, his back still turned to him as he steps underneath the spray of the water, "I realize I might be thinking too much into it, because /you/ didn't say it, but you said
I needed to communicate more so... so I'm telling you now that even though you didn't say it explicitly, it still hurt and I want to know if you meant it."
When Dazai looks over at him, he's tipping his head back underneath of the spray of water, eyes tightly shut. He looks
When Dazai looks over at him, he's tipping his head back underneath of the spray of water, eyes tightly shut. He looks
halfway between embarrassed and frustrated, like he can't believe he's actually asking it. Like he thinks he's being /dramatic/ and he shouldn't say anything.
Admittedly, that does make guilt twist through Dazai, because he's hiding something that is /much/ bigger than just some
Admittedly, that does make guilt twist through Dazai, because he's hiding something that is /much/ bigger than just some
miscommunication and hurt feelings--
But he's also /proud/, and nearly bowled over by the affection that fills him up. His baby is trying /so/ hard, isn't he?
This is Dazai's first /real/ relationship--or what he'd consider a real romantic relationship, at least-- and even
But he's also /proud/, and nearly bowled over by the affection that fills him up. His baby is trying /so/ hard, isn't he?
This is Dazai's first /real/ relationship--or what he'd consider a real romantic relationship, at least-- and even
though he's sure he often comes off as experienced and knowledgeable--the truth is, he's read a lot of those self-help books in order to help himself with his /issues/, because therapy isn't much of an option for him-- he's often amazed at how quickly Chuuya learns and how hard
he works.
Sure, there's mistakes-- but he's so /young/, it would be unfair of Dazai to think he'd be perfect.
He is, though. Perfect, that is. Perfect, just for /him/.
Silently, he tugs off his underwear. The tension winds tighter the longer he goes without answering, but he
Sure, there's mistakes-- but he's so /young/, it would be unfair of Dazai to think he'd be perfect.
He is, though. Perfect, that is. Perfect, just for /him/.
Silently, he tugs off his underwear. The tension winds tighter the longer he goes without answering, but he
wants to give him a more /personal/ answer than a muttered 'no' from across the room.
When he joins him in the shower, Chuuya's eyes crack open. His eyes are so dark like this, almost-black and bottomless, framed by wet curls of dark-red hair. His cheeks are red, from
When he joins him in the shower, Chuuya's eyes crack open. His eyes are so dark like this, almost-black and bottomless, framed by wet curls of dark-red hair. His cheeks are red, from
embarrassment or the heat of the shower, he doesn't know. Either way, it covers his freckles. His cute little button nose is shiny with water.
He's so /cute/ Dazai's heart hurts with it.
"No," he murmurs, filling his voice with as much sincerity and emotion as he can manage,
He's so /cute/ Dazai's heart hurts with it.
"No," he murmurs, filling his voice with as much sincerity and emotion as he can manage,
making eye contact and refusing to look away for even a second, "I don't. Not even a little bit, I promise."
Chuuya stares up at him, blinking through the water running down his face and examining his expression. Eventually he lets out a small breath, offering him a tiny smile.
Chuuya stares up at him, blinking through the water running down his face and examining his expression. Eventually he lets out a small breath, offering him a tiny smile.
"Okay," he murmurs, "Thank you."
Usually, this is the point where Dazai would pick him up and pin him against the wall--
The bruising on his back stops him this time, so he offers something /else/ instead. "Let me wash your hair?"
"Hell no," Chuuya scoffs, holding his hand up
Usually, this is the point where Dazai would pick him up and pin him against the wall--
The bruising on his back stops him this time, so he offers something /else/ instead. "Let me wash your hair?"
"Hell no," Chuuya scoffs, holding his hand up
like he's afraid Dazai will get too close.
"But I promise I'll be gentle, chibi," he whines, giving him his best puppy eyes.
Without looking away, Chuuya reaches into the little nook and pulls out a bottle of shampoo. It's the one Dazai had bought for him during their trip in
"But I promise I'll be gentle, chibi," he whines, giving him his best puppy eyes.
Without looking away, Chuuya reaches into the little nook and pulls out a bottle of shampoo. It's the one Dazai had bought for him during their trip in
Osaka, halfway through when he'd complained about the hotel shampoo drying out his curls. It's tiny, travel-size, but the sight of his shampoo and conditioner next to his in /his/ shower feels--
Feels--
God, he doesn't even know, it just feels /good/, like a piece of him has
Feels--
God, he doesn't even know, it just feels /good/, like a piece of him has
settled into place. Like his home feels more /complete/ with Chuuya's stuff stacked right next to his.
"That's a lie," Chuuya says, squirting a little dollop of shampoo in his palm. "I've seen the way you wash /your/ hair."
Okay, /that's/ fair, but just because Dazai scrubs his
"That's a lie," Chuuya says, squirting a little dollop of shampoo in his palm. "I've seen the way you wash /your/ hair."
Okay, /that's/ fair, but just because Dazai scrubs his
scalp like he's washing a stubborn dish doesn't mean he'd wash /Chuuya's/ hair like that. He's watched him wash his hair often enough, he knows how his routine works.
He'd be /gentle/.
He pouts harder, but Chuuya is merciless and doesn't give him an ounce of pity. The shampoo
He'd be /gentle/.
He pouts harder, but Chuuya is merciless and doesn't give him an ounce of pity. The shampoo
gets rubbed into his scalp, with extra care taken around the spot where he'd hit his head.
When Dazai steals the loofah and brandishes it at him with a victorious smirk, Chuuya rolls his eyes with a fond smile. He doesn't protest that one, letting Dazai wash every inch of his
When Dazai steals the loofah and brandishes it at him with a victorious smirk, Chuuya rolls his eyes with a fond smile. He doesn't protest that one, letting Dazai wash every inch of his
body.
He's extra careful of the spots he's bruised, wiping the suds away after to check the skin.They're bruising nicely, and the sight of them makes Dazai irritated. If Chuuya is going to have bruises, they better come from /him/.
He works his way up steadily, and by the time
He's extra careful of the spots he's bruised, wiping the suds away after to check the skin.They're bruising nicely, and the sight of them makes Dazai irritated. If Chuuya is going to have bruises, they better come from /him/.
He works his way up steadily, and by the time
he's gotten through with his entire body, Chuuya has already combed conditioner through his hair and is watching him with half-lidded eyes.
Gently, watching his reaction, Dazai brushes his fingertips over his throat. He's not sure how he'll react, now that there's /trauma/
Gently, watching his reaction, Dazai brushes his fingertips over his throat. He's not sure how he'll react, now that there's /trauma/
associated with hands around his neck.
Which is /very/ upsetting, because Dazai /loves/ to hold his throat in his palm, loves to have the most vulnerable parts of Chuuya cradled in his hand, full of life and vitality.
He understands, and he won't push it if Chuuya doesn't want
Which is /very/ upsetting, because Dazai /loves/ to hold his throat in his palm, loves to have the most vulnerable parts of Chuuya cradled in his hand, full of life and vitality.
He understands, and he won't push it if Chuuya doesn't want
that anymore--
But he will miss it.
"No one should have hands on your throat," he sighs, fighting back the swell of anger and guilt that starts to build inside him again--
"Except for you," Chuuya interrupts, eyes drawing him in. He leans forward, one of his hands finding
But he will miss it.
"No one should have hands on your throat," he sighs, fighting back the swell of anger and guilt that starts to build inside him again--
"Except for you," Chuuya interrupts, eyes drawing him in. He leans forward, one of his hands finding
Dazai's forearm and holding his arm still.
His fingers slip around his throat neatly, covering the forming bruises with his much larger hands.
Chuuya doesn't even flinch, staring up at him unwaveringly.
"Except for me," Dazai agrees, awed by the amount of /trust/ his bab has.
His fingers slip around his throat neatly, covering the forming bruises with his much larger hands.
Chuuya doesn't even flinch, staring up at him unwaveringly.
"Except for me," Dazai agrees, awed by the amount of /trust/ his bab has.
He’s sure he frightened him downstairs, at least a little. He’s never seen that part of Dazai, the cold and angry part. It’d be shocking if he /wasn’t/ wary at all, actually.
But here he is, leaning his throat into his hand with a content, half-lidded look, like this is the only
But here he is, leaning his throat into his hand with a content, half-lidded look, like this is the only
place in the world he can imagine being.
“Kiss me?” He murmurs, and how is Dazai /ever/ supposed to tell him no?
He sweeps in, ducking his head underneath the spray of water.
Their lips come together easily, taste and feel familiar. With the way the water pours down on them
“Kiss me?” He murmurs, and how is Dazai /ever/ supposed to tell him no?
He sweeps in, ducking his head underneath the spray of water.
Their lips come together easily, taste and feel familiar. With the way the water pours down on them
and the way Chuuya’s arm loops over his neck to drag him closer, and the beating heart in his palm—
It feels like the entire world doesn’t exist anymore. It fades away, leaving only them and here and now.
Naturally, with Chuuya wet and naked and pressed up against him as they
It feels like the entire world doesn’t exist anymore. It fades away, leaving only them and here and now.
Naturally, with Chuuya wet and naked and pressed up against him as they
kiss over and over again, heavy drugging kisses that fog up Dazai’s mind, his body starts to respond, hardening against Chuuya’s stomach.
Chuuya smirks into the kiss when he feels it, bratty and smug at how easily he can get Dazai going, and that’s when Dazai leans back and
Chuuya smirks into the kiss when he feels it, bratty and smug at how easily he can get Dazai going, and that’s when Dazai leans back and
breaks the kiss.
“I’m not fucking when you might have a concussion,” Dazai says, raising his eyebrow when Chuuya opens his mouth to argue. He doesn’t tighten his fingers around his neck, but he does keep his grip firm and unwavering. “Don’t argue, brat.”
Lower lip jutting out,
“I’m not fucking when you might have a concussion,” Dazai says, raising his eyebrow when Chuuya opens his mouth to argue. He doesn’t tighten his fingers around his neck, but he does keep his grip firm and unwavering. “Don’t argue, brat.”
Lower lip jutting out,
Chuuya pouts at him, eyes huge and pleading.
If Dazai were a lesser man, he would’ve given in to him.
“I’m not being a /brat/,” Chuuya argues, turning up his nose in a very haughty and /bratty/ way, “I’m just saying that an orgasm would cure my headache.”
“Is that your
If Dazai were a lesser man, he would’ve given in to him.
“I’m not being a /brat/,” Chuuya argues, turning up his nose in a very haughty and /bratty/ way, “I’m just saying that an orgasm would cure my headache.”
“Is that your
professional medical opinion?”
Chuuya can’t nod much, but he bobs his head a little, stepping closer. He sounds /very/ sure of himself, very convincing as he responds, “Yes, it is.”
Huffing in amusement, Dazai drops a kiss on his forehead. Cute little brat. “I’ll need to see
Chuuya can’t nod much, but he bobs his head a little, stepping closer. He sounds /very/ sure of himself, very convincing as he responds, “Yes, it is.”
Huffing in amusement, Dazai drops a kiss on his forehead. Cute little brat. “I’ll need to see
a doctors note for that prescription, then.”
The hot water is still running, but the bathroom is full of steam now, swirling thick in the air. Dazai doesn’t mind staying in here longer, but it’s getting harder to breathe and he doesn’t want to put any extra strain on Chuuya’s
The hot water is still running, but the bathroom is full of steam now, swirling thick in the air. Dazai doesn’t mind staying in here longer, but it’s getting harder to breathe and he doesn’t want to put any extra strain on Chuuya’s
body by making him breathe it in.
Besides, he wants to get him off his feet and into bed, curled up with a heating pad for his back and an ice pack for his head. It’s too soon for the soreness to set in, but Dazai wants to head off as much of it as possible.
“Time to get out,”
Besides, he wants to get him off his feet and into bed, curled up with a heating pad for his back and an ice pack for his head. It’s too soon for the soreness to set in, but Dazai wants to head off as much of it as possible.
“Time to get out,”
he announces, dropping his hands to Chuuya’s shoulders and steering him out of the shower. Before he can protest, Dazai shuts the water off completely.
“I wasn’t done!”
Smiling, Dazai hands him a towel for his hair. “Yes you were, you just wanted to boil for a little longer.”
“I wasn’t done!”
Smiling, Dazai hands him a towel for his hair. “Yes you were, you just wanted to boil for a little longer.”
Chuuya flicks him with the towel, which is answer enough that he doesn’t bother responding. He goes about squeezing most of the moisture out of his hair.
Dazai dries him off quickly before wrapping him in his biggest, fluffiest towel. It’s huge on him, nearly comes to his
Dazai dries him off quickly before wrapping him in his biggest, fluffiest towel. It’s huge on him, nearly comes to his
calves.
Dazai wraps a different towel around his own waist, uncaring that water is dripping down his chest. It makes the tattoos wet and shiny, and even though Chuuya’s eyes sometimes linger, he respects the rule Dazai made a while ago, and doesn’t ask questions.
It feels
Dazai wraps a different towel around his own waist, uncaring that water is dripping down his chest. It makes the tattoos wet and shiny, and even though Chuuya’s eyes sometimes linger, he respects the rule Dazai made a while ago, and doesn’t ask questions.
It feels
strange to be completely naked in front of someone without having to worry about it. He knows he’s attractive, physically, but there’s always been huge parts of himself that he’s hidden away from anyone who got too close.
Chuuya gets closer to seeing the whole picture every day,
Chuuya gets closer to seeing the whole picture every day,
a thought that fills Dazai with a mix of gut-clenching anticipation and the near-overwhelming need to /hide/.
When the people closest to you have named you something inhuman, over and over again, it starts to make the idea of opening up to someone new petrifying.
Sighing, he
When the people closest to you have named you something inhuman, over and over again, it starts to make the idea of opening up to someone new petrifying.
Sighing, he
opens the medicine cabinet. There’s nothing stronger than extra-strength ibuprofen in here. He doesn’t allow himself anything stronger, because sometimes the temptation is too strong on dark, lonely nights. If he’s ever needed anything more for pain, he finds Yosano to give it to
him, then suffer until he recovers.
Still, he shakes two pills out into his palm and holds them out to Chuuya. It’s a good thing they both ate only an hour or so go.
Chuuya takes them without complaint, though he does make a face at the glass of sink water Dazai gives him.
Still, he shakes two pills out into his palm and holds them out to Chuuya. It’s a good thing they both ate only an hour or so go.
Chuuya takes them without complaint, though he does make a face at the glass of sink water Dazai gives him.
While he swallows them, Dazai pads out of the room and heads to his dresser. He keeps most of his sleeping clothes in here, and /lately/ there's been a little section of shirts and sweats that Chuuya has been steadily stealing from him to sleep in, tucked into the right side of
the drawer.
/Chuuya's side/.
He pulls out clothes for Chuuya and himself. By the time he's dressed and heading back into the bathroom, Chuuya is scrunching up his hair with his hand, encouraging the curls to form. There's a line of wetness trailing down his back, caught by
/Chuuya's side/.
He pulls out clothes for Chuuya and himself. By the time he's dressed and heading back into the bathroom, Chuuya is scrunching up his hair with his hand, encouraging the curls to form. There's a line of wetness trailing down his back, caught by
the towel.
"Come on, let's get you into bed," Dazai says, shaking out the shirt so he can pull it over Chuuya's head.
Logically, he understands he's being a /little/ overbearing by hardly letting Chuuya even walk by himself, and the chibi is shooting him occasional looks
"Come on, let's get you into bed," Dazai says, shaking out the shirt so he can pull it over Chuuya's head.
Logically, he understands he's being a /little/ overbearing by hardly letting Chuuya even walk by himself, and the chibi is shooting him occasional looks
because of it, but he can't help it. Taking care of everything Chuuya needs right now is the only thing that makes the twisting and roiling anxiety in his gut settle down.
But Chuuya doesn't argue with him either, lifting his arms a little so Dazai can pull the sleeves over his
But Chuuya doesn't argue with him either, lifting his arms a little so Dazai can pull the sleeves over his
hands. Though he does grumble out, "It's barely 4pm, I'm not going to sleep."
His lips twitch into a smile at how adorably grumpy he sounds. "Good. You shouldn't be sleeping anyways right now. If I catch you sleeping I'm going to wake you up again."
Maybe a little overkill
His lips twitch into a smile at how adorably grumpy he sounds. "Good. You shouldn't be sleeping anyways right now. If I catch you sleeping I'm going to wake you up again."
Maybe a little overkill
considering he's shown no other signs of concussion, but it will make Dazai feel better. If Chuuya wants to be stubborn and not go to the hospital, then he's going to have to deal with his overprotective brand of care.
Once he's dressed, he steers Chuuya out of the bathroom by
Once he's dressed, he steers Chuuya out of the bathroom by
his shoulders. He'd pick him up, but the only way to carry him without putting pressure on his back would be to have his legs wrapped around his waist and--
While Dazai's /mind/ is firmly against any sex at the moment, his body is taking a while to get the message. If he has his
While Dazai's /mind/ is firmly against any sex at the moment, his body is taking a while to get the message. If he has his
baby in his arms, soft and sweet and heavy, with their hips pressed together and in the perfect position to--
He'd probably get excited again, and he's only a /man/, how is he supposed to tell Chuuya no /twice/?
Instead he ushers Chuuya into his bed, pulling back the blankets
He'd probably get excited again, and he's only a /man/, how is he supposed to tell Chuuya no /twice/?
Instead he ushers Chuuya into his bed, pulling back the blankets
and practically pushing him in. There’s an outlet behind the nightstand on his side of the bed and he plugs the heating pad in before giving it to Chuuya.
Chuuya allows this all with the exasperated attitude of someone what knows he won’t win the argument if he tries. “Fine, but
Chuuya allows this all with the exasperated attitude of someone what knows he won’t win the argument if he tries. “Fine, but
if I’m going to be forcibly regulated to bed rest, can I at least have my phone? It’s charging downstairs, in the kitchen. I need to read something for class and text my study group.”
That’s perfect. Dazai has to go grab ice for his head anyways. “Yeah, I’ll go grab it for you.”
That’s perfect. Dazai has to go grab ice for his head anyways. “Yeah, I’ll go grab it for you.”
Kozo and Yoko are patiently waiting outside his bedroom door when he opens it, staring up at him with twin expectant looks.
At this point, Dazai is resigned to the idea that /some/ parts of their training— training he paid thousands of dollars for and reinforced for years— have
At this point, Dazai is resigned to the idea that /some/ parts of their training— training he paid thousands of dollars for and reinforced for years— have
been found cruel and unusual by a certain /someone/, so he just opens the door farther with a sigh.
“Be gentle with him,” he grumbles, watching them leap onto the bed without hesitation. Five years. He kept the dogs off his furniture for /five years/ and it only took a few
“Be gentle with him,” he grumbles, watching them leap onto the bed without hesitation. Five years. He kept the dogs off his furniture for /five years/ and it only took a few
loving receptions and kissy faces from the chibi to bypass that all.
He’s not mad about it, because Chuuya always looks ridiculously happy when he’s being crushed by them, but he does like to grumble about it.
When he makes his way downstairs, he finds Chuuya’s phone exactly
He’s not mad about it, because Chuuya always looks ridiculously happy when he’s being crushed by them, but he does like to grumble about it.
When he makes his way downstairs, he finds Chuuya’s phone exactly
where he said it was. As he takes it off the charger, the screen comes to life.
Seven missed calls. A few social media notifications, and even more texts.
Here’s where Dazai hesitates. He /understands/ privacy, and he would normally never go through Chuuya’s phone, especially
Seven missed calls. A few social media notifications, and even more texts.
Here’s where Dazai hesitates. He /understands/ privacy, and he would normally never go through Chuuya’s phone, especially
when he’s not looking.
Normally.
This is not a normal situation.
/Somehow/ Shuuji found out about them. Chuuya mentioned a video or a witness, but he didn’t know for sure.
But all these calls—from Yuan— are from about 45 minutes ago, clustered together like she was calling
Normally.
This is not a normal situation.
/Somehow/ Shuuji found out about them. Chuuya mentioned a video or a witness, but he didn’t know for sure.
But all these calls—from Yuan— are from about 45 minutes ago, clustered together like she was calling
repeatedly.
Dazai got home about 25 minutes ago, which would put these calls right around the time Shuuji got home and started attacking Chuuya.
Was she trying to warn him?
If she /was/ trying to warn him, then surely that would mean she knew that Shuuji knew, which leads
Dazai got home about 25 minutes ago, which would put these calls right around the time Shuuji got home and started attacking Chuuya.
Was she trying to warn him?
If she /was/ trying to warn him, then surely that would mean she knew that Shuuji knew, which leads
to the assumption that she also found out about them the same way.
Which supports the idea that is was a /video/, possibly public, because if Yuan and Shuuji were together, then she would’ve found a way to stop him. She’s resourceful, sneaky.
His thumb hovers over the passcode
Which supports the idea that is was a /video/, possibly public, because if Yuan and Shuuji were together, then she would’ve found a way to stop him. She’s resourceful, sneaky.
His thumb hovers over the passcode
prompt. He knows what it is. He saw Chuuya enter it once, and unless it’s changed recently, then he can unlock it easily.
The /boyfriend/ part of Dazai is arguing that checking out his texts and calls is a breach of their trust. It’s dishonest and /sneaky/ and if he really
The /boyfriend/ part of Dazai is arguing that checking out his texts and calls is a breach of their trust. It’s dishonest and /sneaky/ and if he really
wanted to see what Yuan said, then he could go upstairs and ask Chuuya to show him. He’d probably agree.
However, the /mafia/ part of Dazai is reminding him that he doesn’t have a reason to give to Chuuya for why he wants to see the video that doesn’t delve into his past. He
However, the /mafia/ part of Dazai is reminding him that he doesn’t have a reason to give to Chuuya for why he wants to see the video that doesn’t delve into his past. He
needs to see the whole thing, and will probably need to do some digging to see where the video came from.
Besides, he already has to install a tracking program on Chuuya’s phone. It’s for safety, so if anything happens to him then Dazai can find him quickly.
It’s for safety.
Besides, he already has to install a tracking program on Chuuya’s phone. It’s for safety, so if anything happens to him then Dazai can find him quickly.
It’s for safety.
That’s the thought that drives him to unlock his phone and pull up the messaging app. He doesn’t touch the voicemails, not yet. They’re too loud, and might get Chuuya’s attention if he hears them.
[ 10 MISSED TEXTS: YUAN, PINK BITCH 💖 ]
He snorts at the contact name, opening
[ 10 MISSED TEXTS: YUAN, PINK BITCH 💖 ]
He snorts at the contact name, opening
the thread.
[ YUAN, PINK BITCH ]: BRO SOMEONE CAUGHT YOU AND DAZAI ON VIDEO AND POSTED IT ON THE SCHOOL SNAP STORY
- SHUUJI SAW IT AND HE’S PISSSEEEDDDDD HES ON HIS WAY. RUN BRO IM NOT EVEN JOKING HES CRAZY
- also 👀👀👀👀 you got with his DAD? Damn bro what’s the 🍆 like
[ YUAN, PINK BITCH ]: BRO SOMEONE CAUGHT YOU AND DAZAI ON VIDEO AND POSTED IT ON THE SCHOOL SNAP STORY
- SHUUJI SAW IT AND HE’S PISSSEEEDDDDD HES ON HIS WAY. RUN BRO IM NOT EVEN JOKING HES CRAZY
- also 👀👀👀👀 you got with his DAD? Damn bro what’s the 🍆 like
asking for ME
- I realize this is a serious moment and I HOPE UR OKAY PLS TEXT ME BACK IM WORRIED I JUST COPE WITH HUMOR
- 1 video sent: 20 secs long
- look at you GO get that tongue 😩
- okay Shuuji’s location is at his house are you okay???? text me BACK MF
- CHUUYA???
- I realize this is a serious moment and I HOPE UR OKAY PLS TEXT ME BACK IM WORRIED I JUST COPE WITH HUMOR
- 1 video sent: 20 secs long
- look at you GO get that tongue 😩
- okay Shuuji’s location is at his house are you okay???? text me BACK MF
- CHUUYA???
- bitch if he didn’t kill you then IM gonna kill u for not texting me back???? HELLO???😭😭😭🍆😭😭😭
- the 🍆 was a typo I swear CHUUYA PLS
The last text was fifteen minutes ago. He hopes Chuuya doesn’t have read receipts on, otherwise he’s probably going to get /another/
- the 🍆 was a typo I swear CHUUYA PLS
The last text was fifteen minutes ago. He hopes Chuuya doesn’t have read receipts on, otherwise he’s probably going to get /another/
influx of texts about why he’s not responding.
(He /is/ tempted to text back about the /eggplant/, if you know what he means, but that will give away that he went through his phone.
Maybe he’ll look later, see what Chuuya said about /him/.)
He clicks on the video, muting the
(He /is/ tempted to text back about the /eggplant/, if you know what he means, but that will give away that he went through his phone.
Maybe he’ll look later, see what Chuuya said about /him/.)
He clicks on the video, muting the
sound. He doesn’t need to hear it.
It’s a video of him and Chuuya outside the dog groomers, kissing. It’s shaky, clearly taken by an amateur and the caption, if the video wasn’t damning enough, explicitly states Chuuya’s family name.
Shit. A visual is bad, but a /name/? He
It’s a video of him and Chuuya outside the dog groomers, kissing. It’s shaky, clearly taken by an amateur and the caption, if the video wasn’t damning enough, explicitly states Chuuya’s family name.
Shit. A visual is bad, but a /name/? He
might as well be serving Chuuya up on a silver platter, at this rate.
The user name, in the top corner is:
@.daovercoat
He mémorizes it. He’s not sure what exactly a username will /get/ him in this situation, considering the video has been up for probably a few hours by now,
The user name, in the top corner is:
@.daovercoat
He mémorizes it. He’s not sure what exactly a username will /get/ him in this situation, considering the video has been up for probably a few hours by now,
and by the time he can trace the user to a person it will probably have already timed out.
The video /looks/ like it was intended to be taken in good fun, not necessarily harmful or targeting. It just looks like Chuuya was the butt of a joke by one of his classmates, which
The video /looks/ like it was intended to be taken in good fun, not necessarily harmful or targeting. It just looks like Chuuya was the butt of a joke by one of his classmates, which
/unfortunately/ went too public and caused problems.
He clicks on the video to send it to himself and—
The top five contacts that come up as suggestions are dad 🍷, ane-san 1 🍵, ane-san 2 🐰, yuan, pink bitch💖 and—
Daddy 🥰💕
There’s only /one/ person that could be.
He clicks on the video to send it to himself and—
The top five contacts that come up as suggestions are dad 🍷, ane-san 1 🍵, ane-san 2 🐰, yuan, pink bitch💖 and—
Daddy 🥰💕
There’s only /one/ person that could be.
Just in case, he exits that screen and navigates to the conversation with that contact—
Yep, it’s him.
The contact picture is one of the ones Dazai had sent him very early on, with Yoko nestled between his thighs and looking up at the camera.
Though, the picture is
Yep, it’s him.
The contact picture is one of the ones Dazai had sent him very early on, with Yoko nestled between his thighs and looking up at the camera.
Though, the picture is
/conveniently/ focused on the little strip of skin showing, just above his hips.
(That had been on purpose. Once he decided that he /was/ going to be involved with Chuuya, he wasn’t going to make resisting him /easy/.
If that required popping the button on his slacks to send a
(That had been on purpose. Once he decided that he /was/ going to be involved with Chuuya, he wasn’t going to make resisting him /easy/.
If that required popping the button on his slacks to send a
photo that was so subtle it could barely even be considered teasing while still getting the point across, then so be it.)
Curious, he scrolls up to see if he can see when Chuuya changed his contact name. They don’t text tons— Dazai prefers calls whenever possible— and it only
Curious, he scrolls up to see if he can see when Chuuya changed his contact name. They don’t text tons— Dazai prefers calls whenever possible— and it only
takes a few scrolls to get him to before their trip to Osaka.
The new IOS update included a change that noted in the conversation whenever contact names changed so—
When he doesn’t find one, even /all/ the way back that means that he either missed it—
Or it /never/ changed.
The new IOS update included a change that noted in the conversation whenever contact names changed so—
When he doesn’t find one, even /all/ the way back that means that he either missed it—
Or it /never/ changed.
Has he been /Daddy/ this entire time? Ever since their first date?
Did Dazai miss out on /weeks/ of being called Daddy?? Has Chuuya been keeping this a secret to himself this whole time?
Cheeky little /brat/. He's going to have to find some way to 'find out' about this later,
Did Dazai miss out on /weeks/ of being called Daddy?? Has Chuuya been keeping this a secret to himself this whole time?
Cheeky little /brat/. He's going to have to find some way to 'find out' about this later,
so he can tease him about it.
Quickly, he sends the video to himself and opens up his own phone to download it to his photo gallery. To cover his tracks, he deletes the messages in their thread and marks all of Yuan's messages as unread. Hopefully Chuuya won't notice, but he can
Quickly, he sends the video to himself and opens up his own phone to download it to his photo gallery. To cover his tracks, he deletes the messages in their thread and marks all of Yuan's messages as unread. Hopefully Chuuya won't notice, but he can
always come up with an excuse if he needs to.
He's good at that, thinking on the spot.
There's a few ice packs stored in the freezer. He never used to keep them on hand--in fact, never used to have a first aid kit on hand for much of his criminal life-- but now he's come to
He's good at that, thinking on the spot.
There's a few ice packs stored in the freezer. He never used to keep them on hand--in fact, never used to have a first aid kit on hand for much of his criminal life-- but now he's come to
see how useful it is to keep them nearby.
Especially because ever since he hit his 30's, his /back/ has started to hurt. He'll wake up in the morning sometimes and it's like his entire body aches for no reason.
It's gotten worse since he started dating Chuuya, but at least he
Especially because ever since he hit his 30's, his /back/ has started to hurt. He'll wake up in the morning sometimes and it's like his entire body aches for no reason.
It's gotten worse since he started dating Chuuya, but at least he
can blame that on the fact that he has to bend down so far just to kiss him.
He had to set a chiropractor appointment for last week, and while it /did/ feel good, he's still bitter that he needed one at all.
Faced with Chuuya's youth, he's starting to realize that, at some
He had to set a chiropractor appointment for last week, and while it /did/ feel good, he's still bitter that he needed one at all.
Faced with Chuuya's youth, he's starting to realize that, at some
point in time, he'd gotten /old/.
It's a strange feeling to realize that, too many emotions for him to untangle easily. Regret and fear and /pride/, and so many more things when he realizes that he /did/ survive his life and continues to live, even when he never meant to.
It's a strange feeling to realize that, too many emotions for him to untangle easily. Regret and fear and /pride/, and so many more things when he realizes that he /did/ survive his life and continues to live, even when he never meant to.
Deciding to ignore /that/ knot of emotions for another day, Dazai heads back upstairs with the phone and one of the more flexible ice packs in his hands.
When he comes back to the bedroom, he finds Kozo stretched full length on the middle of the bed, already snoring. Yoko has
When he comes back to the bedroom, he finds Kozo stretched full length on the middle of the bed, already snoring. Yoko has
decided to reassure herself that Chuuya is okay by draping herself over his middle and forcibly making him stay still by laying on him.
For someone who is being squashed under a dog that's nearly his own weight,Chuuya looks pretty damn content, one hand petting over Yoko's head.
For someone who is being squashed under a dog that's nearly his own weight,Chuuya looks pretty damn content, one hand petting over Yoko's head.
"Here," Dazai says, getting his attention. He drops his phone into his palm, and slides the ice pack under his head. "You know the drill. Ten minutes on, ten minutes off. If you get even a /little/ bit dizzy, you have to tell me."
"Yes, /Daddy/," Chuuya sighs, ever the brat. The
"Yes, /Daddy/," Chuuya sighs, ever the brat. The
way he's looking at him is /begging/ him to do something about it, put him back in his place.
Which, naturally, gives Dazai great pleasure to tell him, "I'll be downstairs cleaning. I'll come check on you every so often. No sleeping or I'll wake you up."
He gets a small scowl
Which, naturally, gives Dazai great pleasure to tell him, "I'll be downstairs cleaning. I'll come check on you every so often. No sleeping or I'll wake you up."
He gets a small scowl
in response, and a little huff, but no actual complaint.
He leaves Chuuya to his phone, going back downstairs to clean up the mess Shuuji made.
It's not /terribly/ dirty, and it should only take an hour or two to clean because it's mostly the big stuff that needs to be fixed,
He leaves Chuuya to his phone, going back downstairs to clean up the mess Shuuji made.
It's not /terribly/ dirty, and it should only take an hour or two to clean because it's mostly the big stuff that needs to be fixed,
like the couch and all the things that had been knocked off the kitchen island. There's some broken glass that needs to be swept up, and he'll have to replace some of the glass containers.
First though, he takes out his phone and rewatches the video, imprinting the details of it
First though, he takes out his phone and rewatches the video, imprinting the details of it
into his mind. He'll think on it, see if he can remember anything suspicious he saw when it was happening.
Then he sends the video off to Rokuzou, wishing he didn't /have/ to show Chuuya's face to a criminal hacking mastermind, but knowing it's unavoidable.
[ DAZAI ]: i need to
Then he sends the video off to Rokuzou, wishing he didn't /have/ to show Chuuya's face to a criminal hacking mastermind, but knowing it's unavoidable.
[ DAZAI ]: i need to
know everything about the user that posted this.
As he's staring, waiting for a response, Ranpo's words come back to him.
// "You need to pick a side, and starve the other one out." //
Well, Ranpo predicted it well. Dazai has chosen a side.
It's just not either side Ranpo
As he's staring, waiting for a response, Ranpo's words come back to him.
// "You need to pick a side, and starve the other one out." //
Well, Ranpo predicted it well. Dazai has chosen a side.
It's just not either side Ranpo
told him to choose. It's not the Mafia or the Bratva.
It's Chuuya.
He picks Chuuya, and he'll bring the entire city to it's knees if he has to. He'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe. If anyone wants to touch him, they'll have to go through Dazai first.
-------- +
It's Chuuya.
He picks Chuuya, and he'll bring the entire city to it's knees if he has to. He'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe. If anyone wants to touch him, they'll have to go through Dazai first.
-------- +
Chuuya is.... miffed, for lack of a better word.
His entire childhood was spent being worried over, to an obnoxious degree. Even the slightest scrape was treated like a major wound, and he was almost never allowed to play with the other kids in his neighborhood, because ‘Chuuya,
His entire childhood was spent being worried over, to an obnoxious degree. Even the slightest scrape was treated like a major wound, and he was almost never allowed to play with the other kids in his neighborhood, because ‘Chuuya,
love, they play too rough, what if you get /hurt/?’.
It got to the point where he had to talk his dad out of calling an ambulance for things that /didn’t/ need an ambulance, quite a few times. He had to start hiding whenever he was bruised from playing or sports, just so he
It got to the point where he had to talk his dad out of calling an ambulance for things that /didn’t/ need an ambulance, quite a few times. He had to start hiding whenever he was bruised from playing or sports, just so he
could get some peace and quiet.
He was allowed to be sore or bruised without a trip to the hospital being threatened. He was a /kid/ in martial arts, of course he was bruised some days.
When he went off to college, he finally thought he was out from underneath that overbearing,
He was allowed to be sore or bruised without a trip to the hospital being threatened. He was a /kid/ in martial arts, of course he was bruised some days.
When he went off to college, he finally thought he was out from underneath that overbearing,
overprotective care.
He doesn’t blame his dad for being that way, because he knows that he was a pretty sick child and there was a whole where his dad could do nothing /but/ worry and fret over him.
But it was frustrating. Once it was clear he grew out of his issues, he didn’t
He doesn’t blame his dad for being that way, because he knows that he was a pretty sick child and there was a whole where his dad could do nothing /but/ worry and fret over him.
But it was frustrating. Once it was clear he grew out of his issues, he didn’t
want to be treated like that anymore. He wanted to be /normal/, like the rest of the kids in his neighborhood.
He didn’t want to be taken home and regulated to ‘safe games’— basically video games and nothing else— in his room whenever he fell on the playground. The other kids
He didn’t want to be taken home and regulated to ‘safe games’— basically video games and nothing else— in his room whenever he fell on the playground. The other kids
got a kiss to make it feel better, a bandaid if the situation called for it, and then sent back off to play some more.
It wasn’t /fair/. There were plenty of people that, for many reasons, couldn’t live a ‘normal’, healthy life, but he wasn’t one of them.
Beyond his persistent
It wasn’t /fair/. There were plenty of people that, for many reasons, couldn’t live a ‘normal’, healthy life, but he wasn’t one of them.
Beyond his persistent
weak immune system, he was perfectly healthy. He didn’t need or want special treatment.
But he’s quickly coming to a conclusion:
Dazai is a /worrier/.
Case in point, Chuuya had winced /once/ while stretching morning and Dazai had promptly shoved two pain pills into his hand,
But he’s quickly coming to a conclusion:
Dazai is a /worrier/.
Case in point, Chuuya had winced /once/ while stretching morning and Dazai had promptly shoved two pain pills into his hand,
followed by a breakfast of soup— because anything solid “might be too hard to swallow”— and then fifteen minutes later, he’s wound up here.
In a hot, steamy bath filled to the brim with epsom salts and other things Dazai claimed would help with soreness.
Normally Chuuya loves
In a hot, steamy bath filled to the brim with epsom salts and other things Dazai claimed would help with soreness.
Normally Chuuya loves
baths. They’re relaxing, and he’s willingly soak for hours. Put on some music, maybe read a book—
Drink some /wine/.
Except when he asked, Dazai said /no/, he /can’t/ have a glass a wine, he needs to stay /sober/, so he can monitor him.
So he’s sulking in response.
Drink some /wine/.
Except when he asked, Dazai said /no/, he /can’t/ have a glass a wine, he needs to stay /sober/, so he can monitor him.
So he’s sulking in response.
Well, as much as he can sulk while he's floating in a bath of blissfully hot water and leaning back against Dazai's chest. The tub is long enough that he can stretch out completely and his toes don't even touch the other side.
"As nice as this is," he starts, sighing pleasantly
"As nice as this is," he starts, sighing pleasantly
when Dazai pours a handful of warm, lavender-scented water over his chest. His hair is tied up in a high bun on top of his head to save it from the water. He doesn't want to have to wash it again so soon. "I really wish you'd believe me when I say I'm /fine/. I've had a
concussion before, and I promise this is nothing like that."
Dazai's cheek, pressed against his temple, moves when he speaks. "I'll believe you when you're completely healed, or when you show me a doctors note. You look like you got /mauled/."
Chuuya sighs again, a little
Dazai's cheek, pressed against his temple, moves when he speaks. "I'll believe you when you're completely healed, or when you show me a doctors note. You look like you got /mauled/."
Chuuya sighs again, a little
heavier and more exasperated. "Bruises always look worse the second day, you know that."
The bruise on his thigh, from where Shuuji pinned his leg, has already turned an ugly yellow-green color. It doesn't hurt at all, already well into the healing process.
The ones on his
The bruise on his thigh, from where Shuuji pinned his leg, has already turned an ugly yellow-green color. It doesn't hurt at all, already well into the healing process.
The ones on his
back are much the same, except for a lingering ache near the center. He's not even properly sore now that he's warmed up and not stiff from waking up.
The bruising on his throat is the worst. They've turned an ugly black-green color, blooming larger so the initial fingerprints
The bruising on his throat is the worst. They've turned an ugly black-green color, blooming larger so the initial fingerprints
are hard to make out. The edges have faded out a bit. There's little pain, and only when he's directly touching it.
"Besides, /you've/ given me bruises before," Chuuya feels the need to point out. It's true. He had to cover up a bite mark on his throat more than a few times
"Besides, /you've/ given me bruises before," Chuuya feels the need to point out. It's true. He had to cover up a bite mark on his throat more than a few times
when they were in Osaka.
There was even, after the night of the balcony, the ghost of a handprint on his ass.
"Not like /this/," Dazai says, fingers running lightly over his stomach. He doesn't stiffen or move, but there's a note of sadness in his voice in response to the
There was even, after the night of the balcony, the ghost of a handprint on his ass.
"Not like /this/," Dazai says, fingers running lightly over his stomach. He doesn't stiffen or move, but there's a note of sadness in his voice in response to the
comparison. "Never like this."
That's true. Chuuya /liked/ those bruises, and they were very satisfying to feel and see. These ones, not so much.
"I know," he sighs again, moving his feet so the water moves over them in small waves, "I just don't want you to worry so much."
That's true. Chuuya /liked/ those bruises, and they were very satisfying to feel and see. These ones, not so much.
"I know," he sighs again, moving his feet so the water moves over them in small waves, "I just don't want you to worry so much."
With how his cheek is pressed against his temple, he can feel the growing smile. "Silly chibi," Dazai teases gently, pulling him back into his body with the hand on front, guiding him to float between his legs, back to his chest. "I'm always going to worry."
That makes Chuuya
That makes Chuuya
smile because--
/Always/ implies a /long time/, doesn't it? Which means Dazai wants to be with him for a /long time/, and he's anticipating doing so. He's thought about it, and now he's /saying/ it.
Maybe not explicitly, but enough that Chuuya can get the hint.
/Always/.
/Always/ implies a /long time/, doesn't it? Which means Dazai wants to be with him for a /long time/, and he's anticipating doing so. He's thought about it, and now he's /saying/ it.
Maybe not explicitly, but enough that Chuuya can get the hint.
/Always/.
Chuuya settles between his legs easily, coming to rest against him. His knees are drawn up on either side of him, bracketing him easily.
With his fingertips, he traces the ridges of his knee, the slight bulge of the strong muscles in his thighs. "Is there anything I can do to
With his fingertips, he traces the ridges of his knee, the slight bulge of the strong muscles in his thighs. "Is there anything I can do to
make it better?"
He doesn't want to worry Dazai, not more than he has to. If he feels anything like how he felt the day when he needed his help with Yoko, he wants to take that away.
Dazai hums, pulling him up until his chin is hooking over his shoulder. The lip of the tub
He doesn't want to worry Dazai, not more than he has to. If he feels anything like how he felt the day when he needed his help with Yoko, he wants to take that away.
Dazai hums, pulling him up until his chin is hooking over his shoulder. The lip of the tub
presses against the back of Chuuya's skull, bracing his head easily.
"I like this," Dazai offers, palm pressing against his chest. His hand is warm and huge, fingers long and nimble. "Very relaxing."
/Relaxing/ isn't exactly the word Chuuya would use. The word he'd use,
"I like this," Dazai offers, palm pressing against his chest. His hand is warm and huge, fingers long and nimble. "Very relaxing."
/Relaxing/ isn't exactly the word Chuuya would use. The word he'd use,
actually, would be more along that lines of 'exciting'.
Or /frustrating/.
Because he's naked, Dazai's naked, they're both wet and pressed up against each other, skin sliding deliciously over skin. Dazai's /touching/ him, mostly innocently, and he's been breathing in his ear
Or /frustrating/.
Because he's naked, Dazai's naked, they're both wet and pressed up against each other, skin sliding deliciously over skin. Dazai's /touching/ him, mostly innocently, and he's been breathing in his ear
for /minutes/ and it's not fair.
He /wants/ him. Wants him so bad it almost aches and it's not /fair/ because Dazai isn't going to give him anything.
Maybe he /shouldn't/ want him that badly right now, considering he was recently injured but what else is he /supposed/ to feel
He /wants/ him. Wants him so bad it almost aches and it's not /fair/ because Dazai isn't going to give him anything.
Maybe he /shouldn't/ want him that badly right now, considering he was recently injured but what else is he /supposed/ to feel
when they're naked together? Especially after Dazai's been /doting/ on him for the last twelve hours, taking care of his every need and want?
And there's a new aspect to the need, because now Shuuji /knows/. He's not in the house, this is not something they need to hide anymore.
And there's a new aspect to the need, because now Shuuji /knows/. He's not in the house, this is not something they need to hide anymore.
Chuuya doesn't need to be /quiet/, they don't need to rush, he doesn't have anything left to worry about.
(He does, but by the time he realizes, he'll be six feet underground, and it will be far too late for him.)
The idea of being caught was exciting, and he /likes/ that
(He does, but by the time he realizes, he'll be six feet underground, and it will be far too late for him.)
The idea of being caught was exciting, and he /likes/ that
rush of danger and excitement. But he never realized how /stressful/ it was to have to be constantly worried about having sex in his own home until that stress disappeared.
Well. Not his own home. That's a little too early to say, but he can't say that there's something /very/
Well. Not his own home. That's a little too early to say, but he can't say that there's something /very/
homey and comforting about Dazai's house. His boyfriend lives here, and his dogs live here, and there's a wine rack slowly filling up with bottles even though Dazai doesn't really drink wine, and especially doesn't when he's by himself.
This feels like home, to him. The dorm
This feels like home, to him. The dorm
room just feels like somewhere he sleeps, even though a good amount of his belongings are still there. It feels like a hotel, honestly, somewhere temporary and transient.
His childhood home feels exactly like that. Somewhere his family lives, and that he can return to, but not
His childhood home feels exactly like that. Somewhere his family lives, and that he can return to, but not
/his/. He's welcome there, but it's his /fathers/ home, at the heart.
This feels like it could be /his/ home. His and Dazai's, someday.
Dazai pulls back a fraction, tracing his lips over Chuuya's shoulder. His mouth is soft, so soft it almost tickles as he marks a path over
This feels like it could be /his/ home. His and Dazai's, someday.
Dazai pulls back a fraction, tracing his lips over Chuuya's shoulder. His mouth is soft, so soft it almost tickles as he marks a path over
the top of his shoulder. His hand pulls him farther back, fingertips rubbing slow circles over his chest.
Chuuya sighs pleasantly again, arching into his touch. It feels /good/, like everything else Dazai does to him, soft pleasure swirling in his veins with gentle insistence.
Chuuya sighs pleasantly again, arching into his touch. It feels /good/, like everything else Dazai does to him, soft pleasure swirling in his veins with gentle insistence.
Still, below that, is /frustration/. "Don't tease me if you're not going to do anything about it," he grumbles, tipping his head back further and pushing his throat into Dazai's palm when his other hand coasts up to find his neck.
Like this, he's so effortlessly held and caught,
Like this, he's so effortlessly held and caught,
with Dazai a warm, living wall behind him, and his legs bracketing him easily, and his hands big and inescapable.
Not that Chuuya ever wants to escape.
"But you /like/ when I tease you," Dazai huffs against his neck, his voice amused. He's moving upward, finding the bruises on
Not that Chuuya ever wants to escape.
"But you /like/ when I tease you," Dazai huffs against his neck, his voice amused. He's moving upward, finding the bruises on
the side and painting over them with a series of gentle, barely-there kisses.
It just makes Chuuya breathless, hyperfocused, practically vibrating with anticipation for the next kiss, the next touch, hoping /this/ one will be harder, /better/, will finally start to satisfy the
It just makes Chuuya breathless, hyperfocused, practically vibrating with anticipation for the next kiss, the next touch, hoping /this/ one will be harder, /better/, will finally start to satisfy the
growing pit of hunger and need inside him.
With the hand on Dazai’s thigh, he pushes himself backwards, arching his back temptingly. He can feel Dazai’s cock stirring against his lower back, slowly starting to thicken.
It makes want and /hope/ start to flare up, but he also
With the hand on Dazai’s thigh, he pushes himself backwards, arching his back temptingly. He can feel Dazai’s cock stirring against his lower back, slowly starting to thicken.
It makes want and /hope/ start to flare up, but he also
knows it means nothing. Dazai has denied him when he’s hard before, and he probably will again.
Just because /he’s/ horny doesn’t mean Chuuya will actually get anything out of it, which is so /frustrating/, because he can never predict when Dazai will give into him.
All he
Just because /he’s/ horny doesn’t mean Chuuya will actually get anything out of it, which is so /frustrating/, because he can never predict when Dazai will give into him.
All he
can do is give himself up to his hands and mouth and /hope/ that Dazai will take mercy on him.
“I like it better when you’re nice to me.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounds breathlessly and dripping with need.
He lets out a gasp when Dazai’s teeth find his skin, scraping
“I like it better when you’re nice to me.” Even to his own ears, his voice sounds breathlessly and dripping with need.
He lets out a gasp when Dazai’s teeth find his skin, scraping
over the skin in a move that’s /just/ shy of painful. It causes tingles of aching-pain to spark, little fireflies of sensation.
“Are you saying I’m not nice to you?” Dazai rumbles, soothing the small pain away by briefly sealing his mouth over the bite and /sucking/, tongue
“Are you saying I’m not nice to you?” Dazai rumbles, soothing the small pain away by briefly sealing his mouth over the bite and /sucking/, tongue
piercing swirling over his skin wetly. “I think I’m /very/ nice to you.”
Chuuya wiggles, rubbing the swell of his ass over Dazai’s crotch until he earns a hissed out breath in response. “That’s a lie. You’re mean to me all the time.”
Frustratingly, the hand on his chest
Chuuya wiggles, rubbing the swell of his ass over Dazai’s crotch until he earns a hissed out breath in response. “That’s a lie. You’re mean to me all the time.”
Frustratingly, the hand on his chest
hasn't moved. It's still and unmoving, beyond the fingertips which are rubbing slow circles /just/ a hairsbreadth away from his nipple.
"Oh? When have I ever been mean to you, baby?"
When Chuuya opens his mouth to respond, Dazai uses the hand on his neck to tilt his head to
"Oh? When have I ever been mean to you, baby?"
When Chuuya opens his mouth to respond, Dazai uses the hand on his neck to tilt his head to
the side, giving him access to the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. Teeth sink into him lightly, a tease that makes Chuuya jolt and whimper in response.
He's starting to think he has a /thing/ for being bitten, because there's not many things more /satisfying/ than being
He's starting to think he has a /thing/ for being bitten, because there's not many things more /satisfying/ than being
between his teeth. Dazai /could/ hurt him, but never does.
Never more than he wants to be hurt, anyways.
"You're being mean /now/," Chuuya asserts, trying to keep his voice from wobbling even when he's pushing himself into Dazai's grip as much as possible, a willing sacrifice
Never more than he wants to be hurt, anyways.
"You're being mean /now/," Chuuya asserts, trying to keep his voice from wobbling even when he's pushing himself into Dazai's grip as much as possible, a willing sacrifice
to an earthen god. "And in Osaka, when you made me wear the vibrator for /hours/ and you didn't even fuck me afterward. That was mean."
There's a rumble in Dazai's chest behind him, suppressed laughter. "/Mean/ is a strong word, baby, because as I recall-- you /liked/ it when I
There's a rumble in Dazai's chest behind him, suppressed laughter. "/Mean/ is a strong word, baby, because as I recall-- you /liked/ it when I
did that to you."
Yes, but that's /besides/ the point. Chuuya can like it when mean things are done to him, but it's still /mean/.
"Just like you like /this/, right?"
Chuuya keeps his mouth shut for that one, choosing instead to reach back with one hand and find Dazai's hair
Yes, but that's /besides/ the point. Chuuya can like it when mean things are done to him, but it's still /mean/.
"Just like you like /this/, right?"
Chuuya keeps his mouth shut for that one, choosing instead to reach back with one hand and find Dazai's hair
to pull on it in wordless demand. He /does/ like this, but he's not willing to admit it just yet.
What if it makes Dazai /stop/? How does he get him to keep going?
He's half-hard already and growing ever harder, the heat of the bath falling away in the face of how hot his body
What if it makes Dazai /stop/? How does he get him to keep going?
He's half-hard already and growing ever harder, the heat of the bath falling away in the face of how hot his body
feels.
He wants, he wants, he /wants/, and with the pain pills Dazai pushed on him, he doesn't even feel an /ounce/ of pain. How does he convince Dazai, how does he get what he's aching for, he'll do /anything/, just--
Dazai moves from behind him, pushing him forward until
He wants, he wants, he /wants/, and with the pain pills Dazai pushed on him, he doesn't even feel an /ounce/ of pain. How does he convince Dazai, how does he get what he's aching for, he'll do /anything/, just--
Dazai moves from behind him, pushing him forward until
he's sitting up under his own power. "Time to get out, chibi."
What? /No/, that's so not fucking fair. He's just going to build him up like this and do /nothing/ about it? "You're not gonna--?"
Planting his hands on the sides of the tub, Dazai heaves himself to a standing
What? /No/, that's so not fucking fair. He's just going to build him up like this and do /nothing/ about it? "You're not gonna--?"
Planting his hands on the sides of the tub, Dazai heaves himself to a standing
position. The water runs off him in waves.
He steps out gracefully, body wet and glistening under the lights of the bathroom. God, he looks like he just stepped out of a magazine, all wet and rippling with muscle and /delicious/, it's not fair.
"I might," Dazai says, shooting a
He steps out gracefully, body wet and glistening under the lights of the bathroom. God, he looks like he just stepped out of a magazine, all wet and rippling with muscle and /delicious/, it's not fair.
"I might," Dazai says, shooting a
teasing, cocky look at him over his shoulder as he wraps a towel around his waist. "Depends on how quickly you /move/, doll."
He disappears into the other room them, leaving Chuuya to scramble after him.
Anticipation spikes sharply, driving him to dry off as quickly as
He disappears into the other room them, leaving Chuuya to scramble after him.
Anticipation spikes sharply, driving him to dry off as quickly as
physically possible before tossing the towel into the hamper and practically running after him.
When he gets into the bedroom, he finds Dazai next to the nightstand on his side, arms raised up and hovering near his face as he fiddles with something.
Chuuya starts to go to him--
When he gets into the bedroom, he finds Dazai next to the nightstand on his side, arms raised up and hovering near his face as he fiddles with something.
Chuuya starts to go to him--
"Get on the bed. On your stomach."
He falters a little, surprised by the sudden change in plans. He wants to /touch/ and be touched but--
Listening to Dazai always turns out fantastic for him, so he listens eagerly.
Crawling onto the bed, he flops onto his stomach and
He falters a little, surprised by the sudden change in plans. He wants to /touch/ and be touched but--
Listening to Dazai always turns out fantastic for him, so he listens eagerly.
Crawling onto the bed, he flops onto his stomach and
stretches out with a small groan. He's pleasantly limp from his bath, all his muscles melting easily into the bed.
The only /stiff/ part of him is his half-hard cock, rubbing against the sheets. It's rough, but it's the most stimulation he's gotten so far, so he rocks his hips
The only /stiff/ part of him is his half-hard cock, rubbing against the sheets. It's rough, but it's the most stimulation he's gotten so far, so he rocks his hips
into it mindlessly, sighing.
A hand comes down on his ass, smacking the cheek with just enough force that it makes him flinch. It's surprisingly loud, but Dazai knows how to make it /loud/ without making it hurt.
"Stop that, or I won't touch you at all." Dazai's voice has that
A hand comes down on his ass, smacking the cheek with just enough force that it makes him flinch. It's surprisingly loud, but Dazai knows how to make it /loud/ without making it hurt.
"Stop that, or I won't touch you at all." Dazai's voice has that
/tone/ to it, the one that drips power and domination. It enters Chuuya's bloodstream like a drug, taking over his body so thoroughly it almost feels like his heart wouldn't beat unless Dazai commanded it to.
With a hitched sigh, Chuuya goes from grinding against the sheets to
With a hitched sigh, Chuuya goes from grinding against the sheets to
pressing back against him, enjoying the tingling sensation the smack had given him. It adds to the heat building in his system, a burning maelstrom building in intensity with every touch and movement.
"I want your hands by your head. I don't care what you do with them, but I
"I want your hands by your head. I don't care what you do with them, but I
don't want them to move. Understand?"
Yes. Chuuya nods, pressing his face into the sheets to hide the growing blush on his face. Excitement is thrumming through him. He fists his hands in the sheets near his head to show he understands.
"Good boy," Dazai croons in response,
Yes. Chuuya nods, pressing his face into the sheets to hide the growing blush on his face. Excitement is thrumming through him. He fists his hands in the sheets near his head to show he understands.
"Good boy," Dazai croons in response,
climbing onto the bed. The mattress sinks under his weight, making his body dip as Dazai settles between his thighs.
His legs have to spread ridiculously wide to fit him between, a thought that's /exciting/. Being reminded of how much bigger and taller Dazai is, is /exciting/.
His legs have to spread ridiculously wide to fit him between, a thought that's /exciting/. Being reminded of how much bigger and taller Dazai is, is /exciting/.
It feels /dangerous/, because Dazai could hurt him. Easily, even, or by mistake simply because of how big he is--
But he never does, and that complete /control/ over himself--and over Chuuya-- is sexy.
A large hand finds his shoulder blade, fingers digging pleasantly into his
But he never does, and that complete /control/ over himself--and over Chuuya-- is sexy.
A large hand finds his shoulder blade, fingers digging pleasantly into his
muscles and dragging down. There was a knot just along his spine, but it's easily dissolved with a few pushes of Dazai's fingers.
The weight on the bed shifts as Dazai leans forward, and the next thing Chuuya knows is the sensation of lips trailing over his spine. They're
The weight on the bed shifts as Dazai leans forward, and the next thing Chuuya knows is the sensation of lips trailing over his spine. They're
soft, leaving tingles and whispers of heat behind.
Chuuya arches his back, pushing into him, shivering when he feels how immovable he is on top of him. He hooks his ankle behind Dazai's thigh, pressing his heel into his leg with growing urgency. Maybe if he just /shows/ how
Chuuya arches his back, pushing into him, shivering when he feels how immovable he is on top of him. He hooks his ankle behind Dazai's thigh, pressing his heel into his leg with growing urgency. Maybe if he just /shows/ how
much he wants this, Dazai will take mercy on him and get to whatever he has planned quicker.
"Eager, aren't you?"
The question pressed against his spine makes him shiver, and the following lick--oh, he must have changed his tongue piercing, Chuuya thinks he recognizes it--
"Eager, aren't you?"
The question pressed against his spine makes him shiver, and the following lick--oh, he must have changed his tongue piercing, Chuuya thinks he recognizes it--
makes him choke on a breath.
He doesn't know how Dazai does it, but /somehow/ he manages to make even the most innocent of places, places on his body Chuuya didn't even /know/ were sensitive, hypersensitive. It's like he could touch him /anywhere/ and have him melted into a
He doesn't know how Dazai does it, but /somehow/ he manages to make even the most innocent of places, places on his body Chuuya didn't even /know/ were sensitive, hypersensitive. It's like he could touch him /anywhere/ and have him melted into a
puddle within moments.
He doesn't bother responding to the question. He doesn't need to, not with the way he's pressing into Dazai eagerly, chasing after every contact with single-minded desperation. Wanting more, needing more, and knowing Dazai will give it to him this time.
He doesn't bother responding to the question. He doesn't need to, not with the way he's pressing into Dazai eagerly, chasing after every contact with single-minded desperation. Wanting more, needing more, and knowing Dazai will give it to him this time.
He just doesn't know /how/ because--
Shouldn't he be on his back for this? Or shouldn't Dazai be lubing up his fingers? How are they going to progress from Dazai licking and biting his way down his spine, to /sex/?
Sometimes Chuuya's lack of knowledge feels embarrassing, but
Shouldn't he be on his back for this? Or shouldn't Dazai be lubing up his fingers? How are they going to progress from Dazai licking and biting his way down his spine, to /sex/?
Sometimes Chuuya's lack of knowledge feels embarrassing, but
sometimes it's /exciting/. Because Dazai is teaching him all sorts of things, things he loves and enjoys, and every day it's something /new/.
Dazai finds the dimples on his lower back, sealing his mouth over one and scraping his teeth over it until he's shuddering from it.
Dazai finds the dimples on his lower back, sealing his mouth over one and scraping his teeth over it until he's shuddering from it.
This time, when he pushes his hips back, Dazai's hands come down and pin him back to the bed effortlessly, forcibly keeping him still.
"Don't move," Dazai murmurs against his skin, following it up with a bite over the soft, squishy part of his lower back. "Or I'll stop."
The
"Don't move," Dazai murmurs against his skin, following it up with a bite over the soft, squishy part of his lower back. "Or I'll stop."
The
idea of that makes Chuuya let out a frustrated keen, pushing his head into the blankets. He doesn't know what to /do/ with himself when he's practically vibrating with need and desperation. His body wants to squirm and struggle for more, and controlling that energy while he's
near-mindless with anticipation is /hard/.
He kneads the sheets between his fingers, clenching and unclenching his fists as he forces his body to go still and limp. This would be easier if Dazai pushed him into that hazy state, but he's not even close to it.
The hands on his
He kneads the sheets between his fingers, clenching and unclenching his fists as he forces his body to go still and limp. This would be easier if Dazai pushed him into that hazy state, but he's not even close to it.
The hands on his
hips tilt him upwards, giving Dazai better access to his ass. His mouth trails downward, swirling his tongue over the sensitive, still-tingling skin. He never follows a /pattern/, never gives Chuuya anything he can get used to, always changing it up and stringing him taut between
the sensations.
"Dazai," he mutters into the blanket, unable to stop himself from jerking forward when teeth nip at him sharply. "Dazai, /please/, I want it, I've been good. Please."
There's a muffled /pop/ as Dazai sucks a bite-sized piece of skin into his mouth before letting
"Dazai," he mutters into the blanket, unable to stop himself from jerking forward when teeth nip at him sharply. "Dazai, /please/, I want it, I've been good. Please."
There's a muffled /pop/ as Dazai sucks a bite-sized piece of skin into his mouth before letting
it go. "You've been /good/?" He asks, amused disbelief in his voice, "Weren't you just saying that I was being mean to you, brat?"
Chuuya makes a frustrated noise, because he doesn't want to get /punished/ for that, he was just trying to convince Dazai to make him feel good.
He
Chuuya makes a frustrated noise, because he doesn't want to get /punished/ for that, he was just trying to convince Dazai to make him feel good.
He
switches tactics, aiming for Dazai’s weak spot. He fills his voice with as much pleading desperation as he can, dropping his tone until its soft and sweet. “Please/, Daddy?”
(He can’t see or feel it, but Dazai’s cock fills out, getting harder so quickly he almost feels dizzy
(He can’t see or feel it, but Dazai’s cock fills out, getting harder so quickly he almost feels dizzy
with it.
Cheeky little brat, always desperate to get what he wants instead of what Dazai wants to give him.
That’s fine, though. Dazai’s already committed himself to spoiling his baby rotten today, and if he’s asking so /nicely/?
Dazai will give him exactly what he wants,
Cheeky little brat, always desperate to get what he wants instead of what Dazai wants to give him.
That’s fine, though. Dazai’s already committed himself to spoiling his baby rotten today, and if he’s asking so /nicely/?
Dazai will give him exactly what he wants,
Even if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s asking for.)
“I got you, baby. Just relax for me,” gets breathed over the swell of his asscheek, moments before Dazai’s thumb digs into him and spreads him open.
Chuuya fights the urge to squirm, because it feels embarrassing to have
“I got you, baby. Just relax for me,” gets breathed over the swell of his asscheek, moments before Dazai’s thumb digs into him and spreads him open.
Chuuya fights the urge to squirm, because it feels embarrassing to have
his face so close to /there/ but—
They’re one step closer now. Any second now, there’s going to be wet fingers filling him up, breaking him open in preparation for Dazai’s cock.
But that’s not what happens.
Instead, Dazai’s face slips lower, /lower/, hot breath washing
They’re one step closer now. Any second now, there’s going to be wet fingers filling him up, breaking him open in preparation for Dazai’s cock.
But that’s not what happens.
Instead, Dazai’s face slips lower, /lower/, hot breath washing
over his most sensitive spots. Chuuya’s eyes are widening, his hands clenching in the sheets. He only gets halfway through his thought of ‘Wait, what is he /doing/?’ before he’s licking a broad, wet stripe over his entrance.
Chuuya jerks in place with a whine, fighting between
Chuuya jerks in place with a whine, fighting between
his mind being /instantly/ mortified and his body thrilling as the feeling of hot, wet slickness sliding over him.
He opens his mouth to protest—
Dazai licks over him again, dragging the flat of his tongue over his hole so firmly that he can feel the shape of his tongue
He opens his mouth to protest—
Dazai licks over him again, dragging the flat of his tongue over his hole so firmly that he can feel the shape of his tongue
jewelry sliding over him— and oh, /god/, he recognizes the shape of that one, the memory of it buzzing against the base of his cock is /seared/ into his memory— followed by the very tip of his tongue tracing over his rim.
His hips squirm, unsure if he wants to /escape/ or if he
His hips squirm, unsure if he wants to /escape/ or if he
wants /more/, torn between the desire to hide and how /good/ it feels.
With a displeased rumble, Dazai uses the hand on his hip to pin him again. The action spreads him wider, allowing Dazai to slide his face that much deeper.
“Dazai,” he pants out, eyes squeezing shut as
With a displeased rumble, Dazai uses the hand on his hip to pin him again. The action spreads him wider, allowing Dazai to slide his face that much deeper.
“Dazai,” he pants out, eyes squeezing shut as
Dazai spreads him a /little/ further with the hand on his asscheek, “thats—!”
He cuts himself off with a high-pitched moan because apparently Dazai is the kind of person that can /roll/ their tongue, and the feeling of it undulating against him, folding it on itself and pressing
He cuts himself off with a high-pitched moan because apparently Dazai is the kind of person that can /roll/ their tongue, and the feeling of it undulating against him, folding it on itself and pressing
so firmly that his muscles start to give way beneath the pressure.
And just when Chuuya is thinking 'oh god,he's going to do it, he's gonna put his tongue inside him, oh /god/'--
Dazai pulls back, just a fraction. "Yeah? That good?" He says, prideful teasing in his voice as his
And just when Chuuya is thinking 'oh god,he's going to do it, he's gonna put his tongue inside him, oh /god/'--
Dazai pulls back, just a fraction. "Yeah? That good?" He says, prideful teasing in his voice as his
hand leaves his hip. There's a second of silence, and then a tiny /click/.
The next time Dazai speaks, his voice is slightly garbled, shaking oddly. "Keep talking to me, doll. I wanna know how you feel about /this/."
The next time his tongue returns--
It's /vibrating/.
The next time Dazai speaks, his voice is slightly garbled, shaking oddly. "Keep talking to me, doll. I wanna know how you feel about /this/."
The next time his tongue returns--
It's /vibrating/.
"Oh /god/," Chuuya practically wails, all other thought whisked away by the sensation of Dazai licking over him again, slowly enough that he feels /every inch/ of vibration.
It's not as powerful as the vibrating toy Dazai used on him in Osaka, but /that/ wasn't wet and hot and
It's not as powerful as the vibrating toy Dazai used on him in Osaka, but /that/ wasn't wet and hot and
flexible. That wasn't swirling over him without pattern or rhythm, that wasn't pressing into him insistently until the tip is sliding inside him.
The tiny vibrator presses against the outside of his rim, shifting with the movements as Dazai drags the tip of his tongue along the
The tiny vibrator presses against the outside of his rim, shifting with the movements as Dazai drags the tip of his tongue along the
inside.
It's hot, it's /wet/, it's so intimate with how /close/ Dazai is to him, fucking his tongue deeper inside him in a series of short, swirling thrusts. The bath has loosened up every one of his muscles and relaxed his mind, making it so easy for the pleasure to swamp him
It's hot, it's /wet/, it's so intimate with how /close/ Dazai is to him, fucking his tongue deeper inside him in a series of short, swirling thrusts. The bath has loosened up every one of his muscles and relaxed his mind, making it so easy for the pleasure to swamp him
in heavy waves.
Dazai curls his tongue /down/ then, coaxing his entrance open with steady pressure. With a wet, squelching noise his tongue slides deeper, the raised shape of the vibrator pressing unrelentingly against the inside of his rim.
"God," Chuuya whimpers again, his
Dazai curls his tongue /down/ then, coaxing his entrance open with steady pressure. With a wet, squelching noise his tongue slides deeper, the raised shape of the vibrator pressing unrelentingly against the inside of his rim.
"God," Chuuya whimpers again, his
thoughts blurring into white noise. All embarrassment and shame has faded away, replaced by pulsasting excitement as Dazai tilts his hips, dragging him into the next thrust of his tongue.
There's no friction, not with how hot and slippery his tongue is. His tongue flexes in odd
There's no friction, not with how hot and slippery his tongue is. His tongue flexes in odd
ways, so different from the way his fingers move that they can't even be compared.
His /fingers/ are long, dexterous, stroking against his inner muscles to coax him into warming up and relaxing. They can bend and flex, but the /main/ aspect of pleasure they give him is how deep
His /fingers/ are long, dexterous, stroking against his inner muscles to coax him into warming up and relaxing. They can bend and flex, but the /main/ aspect of pleasure they give him is how deep
they can get inside him, how far they can stretch him open. The anticipation that comes with the knowledge that he's /probably/ going to be fucked afterwards.
The best part about his /tongue/ is how flexible it is, curling one moment and flattening the next. Moving in ways his
The best part about his /tongue/ is how flexible it is, curling one moment and flattening the next. Moving in ways his
fingers just can't, swirling and rolling and dragging the small vibrator against his inner walls.
Unlike his fingers, which Chuuya can clench down on to feel more of, he /can't/ do that with his tongue. If he tries to grind back or clench down, or in any way tries to get /more/
Unlike his fingers, which Chuuya can clench down on to feel more of, he /can't/ do that with his tongue. If he tries to grind back or clench down, or in any way tries to get /more/
of the sensation, just makes Dazai's tongue slide out of him.
All he can do is arch his back and just /take it/, spreading his thighs until the stretch hurts, offering himself up as much as he physically can.
His breath against the sheets bounces back at him, covering his
All he can do is arch his back and just /take it/, spreading his thighs until the stretch hurts, offering himself up as much as he physically can.
His breath against the sheets bounces back at him, covering his
face with heat and making his head spin.
His erection is aching hard now, the tip dragging intermittently against the sheets beneath him. Each flex of Dazai's tongue inside him prompts a throbbing response in his cock, need and pleasure growing like mountains in his stomach.
His erection is aching hard now, the tip dragging intermittently against the sheets beneath him. Each flex of Dazai's tongue inside him prompts a throbbing response in his cock, need and pleasure growing like mountains in his stomach.
Dazai's hand digs into him harder, pulling his ass apart so he can slide his tongue /that/ much deeper, jaw widening as he points his tongue, making it as long as he can--
The /very/ tip of it brushes against the outside edge of his prostate, making Chuuya jolt in place and
The /very/ tip of it brushes against the outside edge of his prostate, making Chuuya jolt in place and
bite down on a high-pitched keen.
God, it's not /enough/, he can feel the vibrator buzzing away mere /centimeters/ away from where he wants it most. The pleasure and the desperation mix, the headiest of drugs.
It makes his heart pound in his chest, so hard that he can barely
God, it's not /enough/, he can feel the vibrator buzzing away mere /centimeters/ away from where he wants it most. The pleasure and the desperation mix, the headiest of drugs.
It makes his heart pound in his chest, so hard that he can barely
hear anything past the throbbing need roaring in his ears, in his veins. He can't hear, he can't /think/, all he knows is--
"Dazai, Dazai, Dazai," he chants into the sheets, mindlessly rocking back into his mouth and down into the bed to get friction on his aching cock.
"Dazai, Dazai, Dazai," he chants into the sheets, mindlessly rocking back into his mouth and down into the bed to get friction on his aching cock.
Mercifully, Dazai lets him grind into him. His tongue retreats as Chuuya moves forward, flattening and filling him up.
When Chuuya rocks /back/ again, his tongue stiffens and plunges in deeply, and if Chuuya spreads his legs wide enough and tilts his hips at /just/ the right
When Chuuya rocks /back/ again, his tongue stiffens and plunges in deeply, and if Chuuya spreads his legs wide enough and tilts his hips at /just/ the right
angle, he can /almost/ get direct stimulation on his prostate and it's /so/ good.
Mind-meltingly good, actually, it's almost /unfair/. Better than his fingers, and /almost/ better than his cock entirely. The pleasure builds slowly, inescapably, like an earthquake gaining power
Mind-meltingly good, actually, it's almost /unfair/. Better than his fingers, and /almost/ better than his cock entirely. The pleasure builds slowly, inescapably, like an earthquake gaining power
as it goes on, shaking the very foundations of his being.
The only thing he's missing is the ability to /kiss/ Dazai. This feels /fantastic/, but there's something so intimate and loving about being able to feel Dazai's breath against his mouth, taste his pleasure on his tongue.
The only thing he's missing is the ability to /kiss/ Dazai. This feels /fantastic/, but there's something so intimate and loving about being able to feel Dazai's breath against his mouth, taste his pleasure on his tongue.
But this-- Dazai's thumb hooking into his rim and stretching the muscle open until Chuuya is shuddering with it, allowing him to fuck his tongue a /little/ deeper-- is almost as good.
On the next grind back, Chuuya arches his back until his spine arches with the strain and holds
On the next grind back, Chuuya arches his back until his spine arches with the strain and holds
the position as Dazai's tongue /thrusts/--
"There!" Chuuya practically shouts, fighting against the urge to shudder because the vibrator is /just/ on the edge of his prostate, spiking pleasure in his body. If either of them move, he's going to /lose/ that sensation and the
"There!" Chuuya practically shouts, fighting against the urge to shudder because the vibrator is /just/ on the edge of his prostate, spiking pleasure in his body. If either of them move, he's going to /lose/ that sensation and the
thought of that might make him cry.
There's a muffled noise against him, like Dazai might be laughing at him. His tongue rolls teasingly, making as if he's going to pull back before pushing forward again.
The sensation is hot, nearly electric. The tension building along his
There's a muffled noise against him, like Dazai might be laughing at him. His tongue rolls teasingly, making as if he's going to pull back before pushing forward again.
The sensation is hot, nearly electric. The tension building along his
spine is exacerbated by how still he's forcing himself to be, all of his muscles clenching tight until he's trembling from the strain. His breath speeds up, warmth collecting the space between his face and the blankets, until he can't tell if he's breathing air or /fire/.
A hand
A hand
closes around his hip and helps him hold position, supporting him as the pleasure builds and builds and builds.
It feels suffocating, like a blanket being drawn over his head and drowning him from head to toe--
But it's not /enough/. Dazai's tongue isn't /quite/ long enough and
It feels suffocating, like a blanket being drawn over his head and drowning him from head to toe--
But it's not /enough/. Dazai's tongue isn't /quite/ long enough and
the vibrator is buzzing /just/ on the edge of his prostate. It's good, sweet electricity, but it's not as good as it /could/ be, as he needs it to be. All the sensation does is build him up and up and up, until he feels like he might shatter underneath the strain.
The edge is
The edge is
so close and yet /so/ far, hovering so close Chuuya can almost taste it, like a ghost on his tongue.
Then the hand holding him up leaves and he nearly wobbles out of place, catching himself at the last second. He's not sure how much longer he can hold this position, because his
Then the hand holding him up leaves and he nearly wobbles out of place, catching himself at the last second. He's not sure how much longer he can hold this position, because his
lower back is already starting to ache with how far it's arched.
Then--
A thumb presses against his pernieum, rubbing in the wetness left from his saliva. The pressure there is /surprisingly/ good, ratcheting up the pleasure a little farther, a little /hotter/.
With the
Then--
A thumb presses against his pernieum, rubbing in the wetness left from his saliva. The pressure there is /surprisingly/ good, ratcheting up the pleasure a little farther, a little /hotter/.
With the
pressure on the /outside/ combined with the swirling vibrations inside him, it builds him higher.
His hands are like claws in the sheets, kneading the blanket with all the pent-up tension. His lungs are stuttering in his chest, heaving in sharp breaths and letting out
His hands are like claws in the sheets, kneading the blanket with all the pent-up tension. His lungs are stuttering in his chest, heaving in sharp breaths and letting out
in increasingly high moans. He's dizzy with it, pushed full with so much pleasure that he can barely tell where his body is anymore.
"Dazai, /please/, just a little more, right there. Please, Daddy, /please/!"
He's surprised that Dazai can even understand what he's saying when
"Dazai, /please/, just a little more, right there. Please, Daddy, /please/!"
He's surprised that Dazai can even understand what he's saying when
his face is pushed into the bed, but /somehow/ he does.
There's a muffled /growl/ against him, additional vibration that makes Chuuya shudder and gasp, before he's being yanked up farther. Dazai pulls his hips as high as they can go, until his chest is pressed against the bed
There's a muffled /growl/ against him, additional vibration that makes Chuuya shudder and gasp, before he's being yanked up farther. Dazai pulls his hips as high as they can go, until his chest is pressed against the bed
and his spine feels like it might /break/ from how far it's bent.
The thumb hooked in his rim is swapped out with a long, brutally pleasurable finger that sinks into him to the last knuckle in one, relentless move. It's dry, with no lube besides his saliva.
The friction makes
The thumb hooked in his rim is swapped out with a long, brutally pleasurable finger that sinks into him to the last knuckle in one, relentless move. It's dry, with no lube besides his saliva.
The friction makes
him shudder, keening, adds a rough, burning edge to the swell of pleasure inside him.
His finger dives beneath his wiggling tongue, reaching /past/ to zero in on his prostate with unrelenting pressure.
The dual sensations--no, /triple/ sensations-- of his tongue swirling hot
His finger dives beneath his wiggling tongue, reaching /past/ to zero in on his prostate with unrelenting pressure.
The dual sensations--no, /triple/ sensations-- of his tongue swirling hot
and flexible inside him as tongue-fucks him with searing intensity, his finger massaging his prostate relentlessly and his thumb rubbing his perineum over and over and over again until Chuuya feels like he's going to lose his /mind/--
It's enough to have him squirming, arching,
It's enough to have him squirming, arching,
/crying/ as the pleasure builds and builds.
It feels /so/ good, liquid-fire pulsing through his veins, drenching him in tingling electricity. He can feel it building, gathering momentum as his body writhes under the strain, struggling to hold it as his orgasm creeps up on him--
It feels /so/ good, liquid-fire pulsing through his veins, drenching him in tingling electricity. He can feel it building, gathering momentum as his body writhes under the strain, struggling to hold it as his orgasm creeps up on him--
The thumb rubbing just under his entrance leaves, and for a moment, Chuuya mourns the extra loss of sensation because it lessens the intensity of the pleasure--
Then his hand comes /crashing/ back down, delivering one hard, wet-fingered spank onto his ass. His palm stays there,
Then his hand comes /crashing/ back down, delivering one hard, wet-fingered spank onto his ass. His palm stays there,
pressing the heat of impact into his skin with a solid /squeeze/.
The shock of pain makes him cry out. "/Fuck!/"
His body jerks once, is dragged back in by the inescapable grip Dazai has on him. His tongue presses deeply, his finger /jabs/ at his prostate.
The combination of
The shock of pain makes him cry out. "/Fuck!/"
His body jerks once, is dragged back in by the inescapable grip Dazai has on him. His tongue presses deeply, his finger /jabs/ at his prostate.
The combination of
sweet-edged pain and searing pleasure is enough to have him /shatter/. His orgasm roars over him like a tsunami, blinding him with pleasure and muffling his senses.
For a long, wonderful movement all he can do is just ride it out, body bucking and thrashing in Dazai's grip. His
For a long, wonderful movement all he can do is just ride it out, body bucking and thrashing in Dazai's grip. His
hands on him tighten to keep him in place, fingers digging into him until they might bruise.
It lasts /forever/, waves of electricity making his heart pound so hard in his chest he can hardly breath around it. Every time the pleasure starts to die down, his finger moves inside
It lasts /forever/, waves of electricity making his heart pound so hard in his chest he can hardly breath around it. Every time the pleasure starts to die down, his finger moves inside
him or his tongue curls to drag the vibrator against his inner walls, and it causes another cascade of firey sparks down every one of his nerve endings.
By the time Dazai lets him /rest/, he feels like he might pass out entirely from lack of oxygen. When his grips loosens, he
By the time Dazai lets him /rest/, he feels like he might pass out entirely from lack of oxygen. When his grips loosens, he
slumps into the mattress, quivering with aftershocks. Every single one of his muscles feels weak and lax with pleasure.
He's not on his stomach for long. Dazai flips him over quickly, thankfully rolling him out of the mess he made of the sheets. Unfortunately, there's still cum
He's not on his stomach for long. Dazai flips him over quickly, thankfully rolling him out of the mess he made of the sheets. Unfortunately, there's still cum
smeared on his stomach and his ass feels obscenely wet with saliva. He feels like a /mess/ and he just got out of the bath. If he didn't feel so good, every inch of him thrumming with pleasure, he'd feel kind of gross.
When nothing happens for a second, and the wet sounds of sex
When nothing happens for a second, and the wet sounds of sex
are replaced by Dazai's labored breathing, Chuuya cracks his eyes open and looks down his body--
Oh. Dazai is jerking off, quick and short strokes, hungry eyes roaming over Chuuya's pleasantly wrecked body. His expression is tight with lust and pleasure, breath speeding up by
Oh. Dazai is jerking off, quick and short strokes, hungry eyes roaming over Chuuya's pleasantly wrecked body. His expression is tight with lust and pleasure, breath speeding up by
the second.
Wiggling slightly, Chuuya reaches down to help him out—
Large, criminally long and skilled fingers wrap around his wrist and pins it by his side. His grip is tight and inescapable.
“No,” Dazai mutters, voice hoarse and breaking on a groan, “I just want to look at
Wiggling slightly, Chuuya reaches down to help him out—
Large, criminally long and skilled fingers wrap around his wrist and pins it by his side. His grip is tight and inescapable.
“No,” Dazai mutters, voice hoarse and breaking on a groan, “I just want to look at
you.”
Dazai has never made Chuuya feel anything less that heartbreakingly beautiful, but there’s something different about /this/.
Being told he’s pretty while he’s fully dolled up, that feels like /aesthetic/ beauty. That feels like all the work he puts into looking good is
Dazai has never made Chuuya feel anything less that heartbreakingly beautiful, but there’s something different about /this/.
Being told he’s pretty while he’s fully dolled up, that feels like /aesthetic/ beauty. That feels like all the work he puts into looking good is
noticed and appreciated.
This—looking so good when he’s naked and messy, so good that Dazai doesn’t even need to touch him or /be/ touched by him to have him leaking precum over his own fingers— feels like he doesn’t need to do anything to be beautiful.
Dazai’s gazs on him
This—looking so good when he’s naked and messy, so good that Dazai doesn’t even need to touch him or /be/ touched by him to have him leaking precum over his own fingers— feels like he doesn’t need to do anything to be beautiful.
Dazai’s gazs on him
is heavy, burning with weight. It makes him bold, makes him reach down with his free hand and swipe a finger through the mess on his stomach.
Not looking away, he brings his finger to his mouth and licks off the pearlescent liquid. It's bitter and sticky tasting, but the taste
Not looking away, he brings his finger to his mouth and licks off the pearlescent liquid. It's bitter and sticky tasting, but the taste
is worth it to see how Dazai's pupils dilate, filling with ravaging hunger.
In the next moment, Dazai is falling on him, over him, capturing him in a deep, feral kiss. His tongue thrusts inside his mouth, eagerly chasing the taste of himself on his tongue.
Chuuya is once again
In the next moment, Dazai is falling on him, over him, capturing him in a deep, feral kiss. His tongue thrusts inside his mouth, eagerly chasing the taste of himself on his tongue.
Chuuya is once again
torn between mortification--because his tongue was /just/ inside him, isn't that /gross/?-- and desire, because Dazai's kissing him like he might /devour/ him, like he might eat him /alive/. He can also feel the quick, frantic movements of Dazai's wrist between his thighs.
As he
As he
gets closer to orgasm, muffling groans against his lips, his hand speeds up.
"Fuck, /Chuuya/," he groans, guttural.
The sound of his name like that sends a thrill of heat through Chuuya, prompting him to dig his ankle into Dazai's calf to urge him on. With the way Dazai is
"Fuck, /Chuuya/," he groans, guttural.
The sound of his name like that sends a thrill of heat through Chuuya, prompting him to dig his ankle into Dazai's calf to urge him on. With the way Dazai is
kneeling over him, he can't move much, but he wants Dazai to come.
Then, in the next moment, the kiss is breaking as Dazai slides /up/, crawling up his body quickly.
He ends up kneeling over his chest, Chuuya's arms trapped between his knees as Dazai continues to jerk off
Then, in the next moment, the kiss is breaking as Dazai slides /up/, crawling up his body quickly.
He ends up kneeling over his chest, Chuuya's arms trapped between his knees as Dazai continues to jerk off
inches from his face.
Ah. He's doing /that/ again.
With a murmured sigh, Chuuya lets his eyes fall mostly shut. He still wants to /watch/, is mesmerized by the sight of Dazai's cock leaking pre-cum over his fingers, but he doesn't want to get any in his eyes. His lips part,
Ah. He's doing /that/ again.
With a murmured sigh, Chuuya lets his eyes fall mostly shut. He still wants to /watch/, is mesmerized by the sight of Dazai's cock leaking pre-cum over his fingers, but he doesn't want to get any in his eyes. His lips part,
tongue slipping over his bottom lip in anticipation.
The sight seems to be enough for Dazai, because in the next moment he's squeezing just under the head and angling it /down/--
The first spurt of frothy-white cum lands on his cheek, hot and wet. The next waves aren't far
The sight seems to be enough for Dazai, because in the next moment he's squeezing just under the head and angling it /down/--
The first spurt of frothy-white cum lands on his cheek, hot and wet. The next waves aren't far
behind, falling on his cheeks and chin.
It’s sticky and cools rapidly, but Chuuya preens underneath it all. It’s surprisingly hot to be marked like this, like Dazai is marking his territory or something equally as possessive and feral.
It makes Chuuya feel /owned/, desirable,
It’s sticky and cools rapidly, but Chuuya preens underneath it all. It’s surprisingly hot to be marked like this, like Dazai is marking his territory or something equally as possessive and feral.
It makes Chuuya feel /owned/, desirable,
/possessed/.
It takes Dazai a second to calm down, settling back on his heels while making sure he’s not crushing Chuuya beneath his weight. Panting, he looks down at him—
And /smiles/. Big, bright, sharp with satisfaction.
“You look pretty with my cum all over your face,” he
It takes Dazai a second to calm down, settling back on his heels while making sure he’s not crushing Chuuya beneath his weight. Panting, he looks down at him—
And /smiles/. Big, bright, sharp with satisfaction.
“You look pretty with my cum all over your face,” he
tells him, practically purring as he reaches down and thumbs one of the stripes on his cheek. “I should just keep you like this. No class, no homework, no worries— just laid out on my bed, all pretty and perfect, waiting to be fucked as hard and often as you want. A good little
cumslut, hm?”
Thé thought—and how /filthy/ Dazai’s tone is— makes Chuuya’s face burn, but he doesn’t resist when Dazai rubs his thumb over his mouth. It paints his lips with cum, and Chuuya can’t help but follow the motion with his tongue, cleaning himself up teasingly.
Thé thought—and how /filthy/ Dazai’s tone is— makes Chuuya’s face burn, but he doesn’t resist when Dazai rubs his thumb over his mouth. It paints his lips with cum, and Chuuya can’t help but follow the motion with his tongue, cleaning himself up teasingly.
Chuuya considers himself an independent person. He wants to do well in school so he can get a good job as support himself as quickly as possible. Whenever he’s envisioned relationships, it’s only been with him and his partners as /equals/ in every right.
But when Dazai talks to
But when Dazai talks to
him like /this/, all sugary-sweet temptation and liquid-hot desire, the devil on his way down to hell and coaxing him into falling--
He'd do /anything/.
He sucks Dazai's thumb into his mouth, letting it press down on his tongue. It earns him a flash of Dazai's eyes, one that
He'd do /anything/.
He sucks Dazai's thumb into his mouth, letting it press down on his tongue. It earns him a flash of Dazai's eyes, one that
makes Chuuya internally preen with pride. He swirls his tongue over the pad of his thumb, almost the same way he'd do if there was a cock in his mouth instead.
"I love your mouth," Dazai hums, pushing his thumb deeper until Chuuya has to consciously control his gag reflex, "I
"I love your mouth," Dazai hums, pushing his thumb deeper until Chuuya has to consciously control his gag reflex, "I
can't wait to fuck it again. Feels so good around me."
Dazai is /normally/ so well-spoken and civilized, so when he's like /this/, foul-mouthed and curses dripping from his tongue like /sin/, it sets Chuuya on fire like nothing else.
He can feel his cock twitching down below,
Dazai is /normally/ so well-spoken and civilized, so when he's like /this/, foul-mouthed and curses dripping from his tongue like /sin/, it sets Chuuya on fire like nothing else.
He can feel his cock twitching down below,
valiantly trying to harden again even though he came only a few minutes ago.
"Not now though," Dazai sighs, taking his thumb back. Chuuya almost mourns the loss of something to suck on, even if the taste isn't /exactly/ his favorite. He prefers sweet, /but/ the taste of Dazai
"Not now though," Dazai sighs, taking his thumb back. Chuuya almost mourns the loss of something to suck on, even if the taste isn't /exactly/ his favorite. He prefers sweet, /but/ the taste of Dazai
is satisfyingly bitter.
"/Now/, it's time to clean you up, and get you more pain meds. How's your head feel?"
Ugh. Now the mood is /gone/, and /Daddy/ Dazai has been replaced by /worrier/ Dazai.
Still, Chuuya can't be too mad, not when he's still limp and pleasantly tingly
"/Now/, it's time to clean you up, and get you more pain meds. How's your head feel?"
Ugh. Now the mood is /gone/, and /Daddy/ Dazai has been replaced by /worrier/ Dazai.
Still, Chuuya can't be too mad, not when he's still limp and pleasantly tingly
from his orgasm. With his arms pinned to his side by Dazai's knees, he can't reach up to pull him down into a kiss so he has to resort to lifting his chin and pouting his lips while making puppy eyes at him to get his point across.
With an amused huff and a fond smile, Dazai
With an amused huff and a fond smile, Dazai
shuffles backward so he can bend down to give him a quick kiss.
"I feel good," Chuuya reassures him, and if he rubs his cheek against Dazai's to get /him/ sticky too--
Well, he never said he wasn't petty.
------- +
In the end, it's a coincidence that Ranpo finds him here.
"I feel good," Chuuya reassures him, and if he rubs his cheek against Dazai's to get /him/ sticky too--
Well, he never said he wasn't petty.
------- +
In the end, it's a coincidence that Ranpo finds him here.
Some might even go as far as to say it's /fate/ but--
He doesn't believe in fate. He believes in facts. Data. Numbers and clues and statistics.
And statistically speaking, it's not /that/ great of a coincidence for them to end up at the same bar together accidentally.
Now,
He doesn't believe in fate. He believes in facts. Data. Numbers and clues and statistics.
And statistically speaking, it's not /that/ great of a coincidence for them to end up at the same bar together accidentally.
Now,
Ranpo /is/ a law-abiding man and in general, a mostly-upstanding citizen (at least as far as everyone /else/ knows, anyways).
But he's also banned from like... most of the bars in the immediate area around Yokohama. Bars in the upper class areas, in the lower class ones, in the
But he's also banned from like... most of the bars in the immediate area around Yokohama. Bars in the upper class areas, in the lower class ones, in the
red light district.
You name it, Ranpo has probably been banned from it.
He's a man that believes in /fun/. In eating whatever he wants, doing whatever task or hobby that intrigues him.
And sometimes /fun/ means starting fights just to sit back and watch a gang of drunken
You name it, Ranpo has probably been banned from it.
He's a man that believes in /fun/. In eating whatever he wants, doing whatever task or hobby that intrigues him.
And sometimes /fun/ means starting fights just to sit back and watch a gang of drunken
idiots smash themselves and the bar to pieces. It's /funny/, how it sometimes only takes a few words to send someone into a rage.
It's like pushing the buttons on an arcade machine to watch the lights flash.
This bar in particular, Rai's Bar, is known for serving the... less
It's like pushing the buttons on an arcade machine to watch the lights flash.
This bar in particular, Rai's Bar, is known for serving the... less
civilized beings of Yokohama. Which includes people like Ranpo, who are banned in nearly any other establishment--
And people like /Shuuji/, who are still too young to legally drink.
Ranpo orders a drink from the opposite side of the bar, killing time. Truthfully, he's not
And people like /Shuuji/, who are still too young to legally drink.
Ranpo orders a drink from the opposite side of the bar, killing time. Truthfully, he's not
sure if he /wants/ to talk to the kid, because he came here with the intention to relax and /not/ play with some stupid puppy with anger and manipulation issues.
He came here for a few drinks, a quiet evening before going to home to sleep. He hasn't been sleeping well lately,
He came here for a few drinks, a quiet evening before going to home to sleep. He hasn't been sleeping well lately,
and it's made him grumpy. Irritable.
But then Shuuji slaps his hand down on the bar loudly, demanding another drink loudly enough that several other people flinch and look over at him and--
Ranpo decides that he /does/ have time for a little game. Just a little, before he sends
But then Shuuji slaps his hand down on the bar loudly, demanding another drink loudly enough that several other people flinch and look over at him and--
Ranpo decides that he /does/ have time for a little game. Just a little, before he sends
him back home to sleep off what is likely to be a ravaging hangover.
He takes his drink with him-- a Lemon Drop cocktail, just sour enough that it makes the sweetness of the drink really pop, with a sugar-dusted rim-- as he slides over, settling into the seat next to Shuuji. He
He takes his drink with him-- a Lemon Drop cocktail, just sour enough that it makes the sweetness of the drink really pop, with a sugar-dusted rim-- as he slides over, settling into the seat next to Shuuji. He
leans his elbows back against the bar, watching the crowd. "Hello again."
Shuuji flinches hard, like he wasn't paying attention. A stupid thing to do in a place like this. Should always keep his wits about him, otherwise he might find his wallet has been stolen out of his back
Shuuji flinches hard, like he wasn't paying attention. A stupid thing to do in a place like this. Should always keep his wits about him, otherwise he might find his wallet has been stolen out of his back
pocket. Hell, Ranpo might even steal the damn thing himself just to teach him a lesson.
"Did you come here to laugh at me?" Shuuji snarls, unreasonably angry. Clearly, he's already a few drinks in and is wobbling on his bar stool.
"Yeah, pretty much," Ranpo responds, finding
"Did you come here to laugh at me?" Shuuji snarls, unreasonably angry. Clearly, he's already a few drinks in and is wobbling on his bar stool.
"Yeah, pretty much," Ranpo responds, finding
the straw in his drink and sucking on it as he muses on /why/ Shuuji is in such a bad mood.
There's bandages wrapped around one of his forearms, tightly wrapped. There's a spot of dried blood in the middle. They need to be changed.
Ranpo snorts, because the image Shuuji makes
There's bandages wrapped around one of his forearms, tightly wrapped. There's a spot of dried blood in the middle. They need to be changed.
Ranpo snorts, because the image Shuuji makes
is almost exactly like the rumors of what he heard /Dazai/ was like.
Tall, dark-haired, covered in black clothes and bloody bandages. Foul-tempered--though, in opposite directions, because Dazai's temper always ran /cold/ and lethal, while Shuuji's runs hotly-- and drinking
Tall, dark-haired, covered in black clothes and bloody bandages. Foul-tempered--though, in opposite directions, because Dazai's temper always ran /cold/ and lethal, while Shuuji's runs hotly-- and drinking
himself stupid in a bar.
Maybe that's the reason for his foul mood. Or--
Ranpo /does/ remember seeing a certain video on the public Snap story of Keio University. He likes to keep himself up to date on the public stories the college kids put up.
You'd be surprised how many
Maybe that's the reason for his foul mood. Or--
Ranpo /does/ remember seeing a certain video on the public Snap story of Keio University. He likes to keep himself up to date on the public stories the college kids put up.
You'd be surprised how many
illegal activities are recorded and posted publicly for the world to see. Kids these days, they only think about /likes/ instead of realizing they /probably/ shouldn't be posting about underage drinking and drug activity.
Not that Ranpo /does/ anything about it, he just likes to
Not that Ranpo /does/ anything about it, he just likes to
snicker at the stupidity and store all the information for later,if necessary.
Anyways, point is--
Ranpo saw the video, and he's /pretty sure/ quite a few other people did too--some of which will inevitably cause problems with this new information-- and it's safe to assume that
Anyways, point is--
Ranpo saw the video, and he's /pretty sure/ quite a few other people did too--some of which will inevitably cause problems with this new information-- and it's safe to assume that
Shuuji saw it too.
Maybe that's why he's so pissy. Ranpo takes a stab at it. "Daddy issues acting up lately?"
Shuuji snarls wordlessly, swinging around to look at him. He wobbles hard on his stool, catches himself with a hand on the bar. "Don't-- Stop fucking /laughing/ at me,
Maybe that's why he's so pissy. Ranpo takes a stab at it. "Daddy issues acting up lately?"
Shuuji snarls wordlessly, swinging around to look at him. He wobbles hard on his stool, catches himself with a hand on the bar. "Don't-- Stop fucking /laughing/ at me,
you /prick/. I've had /enough/ of people laughing at me and making a fool out of me behind my back!"
Ah. He hit a nerve. "Have you tried opening your eyes? Not being so stupid anymore? I hear it works wonders."
Shuuji's face turns red so quickly Ranpo is half-convinced he might
Ah. He hit a nerve. "Have you tried opening your eyes? Not being so stupid anymore? I hear it works wonders."
Shuuji's face turns red so quickly Ranpo is half-convinced he might
pass out entirely. "I'm not /stupid/!"
"You're right. You're not," Ranpo agrees, spinning on his own stool. He knows Dazai, and he knows of Sasaki. From what he hears, Sasaki is manipulative to the core, which requires a high level of intelligence to do competently.
Dazai, of
"You're right. You're not," Ranpo agrees, spinning on his own stool. He knows Dazai, and he knows of Sasaki. From what he hears, Sasaki is manipulative to the core, which requires a high level of intelligence to do competently.
Dazai, of
course, is /wickedly/ cunning. Someone that even Ranpo dare not underestimate. It's true that he's kept himself on top of their silently tense arrangement, but not because it's been /easy/.
Dazai's one of the few people in this city who can actually keep up with Ranpo at all.
Dazai's one of the few people in this city who can actually keep up with Ranpo at all.
There's no way Shuuji didn't get /any/ of that.
"You're not stupid, are you? You /are/, however, so used to effortlessly getting your way that you've never had to /try/. Am I right?"
Based on the incoherent snarl Shuuji gives him, and the drunken swipe at him, he's pretty close
"You're not stupid, are you? You /are/, however, so used to effortlessly getting your way that you've never had to /try/. Am I right?"
Based on the incoherent snarl Shuuji gives him, and the drunken swipe at him, he's pretty close
to the mark. "You don't know what you're talking about."
Ranpo will give him that. He has quite a few guesses, and he likes to keep up on all the drama that happens in the city, but he's not omnipotent. He knows a lot, but not everything. "Tell me, then."
He's not sure why he
Ranpo will give him that. He has quite a few guesses, and he likes to keep up on all the drama that happens in the city, but he's not omnipotent. He knows a lot, but not everything. "Tell me, then."
He's not sure why he
cares, really. Sure, Shuuji is entertaining in his reactions, and he's fun to play with, but that doesn't mean Ranpo has to know his internal struggles.
But there's also something about how /lonely/ he seems, in a crowded bar sitting alone. There's something familiar about the
But there's also something about how /lonely/ he seems, in a crowded bar sitting alone. There's something familiar about the
defensive pain in his eyes, like a wounded animal that doesn't know anything but the instinct to fight.
Ranpo was like that too, for a while. After his parents died, he didn't care about hardly anyone at all.
The bartender places a shotglass in front of Shuuji, filled to the
Ranpo was like that too, for a while. After his parents died, he didn't care about hardly anyone at all.
The bartender places a shotglass in front of Shuuji, filled to the
brim with clear liquid. Vodka, probably. Shuuji seems like a vodka kind of guy.
He takes the shot in one swallow, his face screwing up comically at the sour taste. Swallowing seems hard for him.
Slamming the shot glass back on the bar, Shuuji says with only a hint of a slur in
He takes the shot in one swallow, his face screwing up comically at the sour taste. Swallowing seems hard for him.
Slamming the shot glass back on the bar, Shuuji says with only a hint of a slur in
his voice, "My dad /hates/ me, has always hated me and to prove it, he stole that little /slut/ I was involved with. And it was posted on /Snap/, so now everyone knows that he cheated on me with my /dad/, and everyone's laughing at me, I know it!"
That's a lot to unpack there.
That's a lot to unpack there.
Ranpo /could/ get into the whole "your dad doesn't hate you, he's just incredibly traumatized and also a criminal who essentially rules the city, but he cares enough that people don't know anything about you" conversation, or he could--
"So you didn't know they were fucking?"
"So you didn't know they were fucking?"
"You /knew?/"
Ranpo takes another sip of his drink. There's a cherry at the bottom, soaked in alcohol and sugar and he /wants/ it. "It was pretty obvious, I have to say."
It was, at least to him. The way Dazai immediately moved to shield Chuuya from Ranpo--god, he will /never/
Ranpo takes another sip of his drink. There's a cherry at the bottom, soaked in alcohol and sugar and he /wants/ it. "It was pretty obvious, I have to say."
It was, at least to him. The way Dazai immediately moved to shield Chuuya from Ranpo--god, he will /never/
get over the fact that Dazai is fucking Kouyou's little brother, his /arch-nemesis/ if he ever had one, and doesn't even /know/ about it-- was pretty telling.
Plus, Dazai didn't try to protect Shuuji at all. Possibly because he knows hiding anything from Ranpo is next to
Plus, Dazai didn't try to protect Shuuji at all. Possibly because he knows hiding anything from Ranpo is next to
impossible, and showing defensiveness is just likely to make Ranpo /more/ interested.
Shuuji goes back to grumbling, but he doesn’t try to smack Ranpo again. Good, so he /can/ learn.
“I’m gonna ask you something, and you’re gonna answer it honestly,” Ranpo announces, turning
Shuuji goes back to grumbling, but he doesn’t try to smack Ranpo again. Good, so he /can/ learn.
“I’m gonna ask you something, and you’re gonna answer it honestly,” Ranpo announces, turning
to face him fully for the first time, and getting a good look at his face.
He looks terrible. Sleepless red eyes glaring back at him, hair mussed and the bags underneath his eyes are especially pronounced today. He looks like he hasn’t sleep.
“You didn’t really want to be with
He looks terrible. Sleepless red eyes glaring back at him, hair mussed and the bags underneath his eyes are especially pronounced today. He looks like he hasn’t sleep.
“You didn’t really want to be with
Chuuya, did you? You just wanted to have sex with him. You didn’t actually want to be in a relationship with him.”
Shuuji’s mouth curls, but he doesn’t answer.
That’s answer enough for Ranpo to continue, arching a brow at him. “So why does it matter? Why are you so upset about
Shuuji’s mouth curls, but he doesn’t answer.
That’s answer enough for Ranpo to continue, arching a brow at him. “So why does it matter? Why are you so upset about
it if you didn’t have feelings for him?”
Slumping forward, Shuuji rests his forehead on his crossed arms. The answer he gives is mumbled into the air, too low to hear past the din of the bar.
Ranpo raps his knuckles on the wood. “Speak up.”
Sighing, Shuuji tilts his head to
Slumping forward, Shuuji rests his forehead on his crossed arms. The answer he gives is mumbled into the air, too low to hear past the din of the bar.
Ranpo raps his knuckles on the wood. “Speak up.”
Sighing, Shuuji tilts his head to
the side, so Ranpo can get a look at the way his eyes are starting to fill with tears. "I just want someone to pick /me/ for once."
Oh, he's hitting the emotional drunk part of the night. It's too early for this. Ranpo waves over the bartender, silently gesturing to his cocktail
Oh, he's hitting the emotional drunk part of the night. It's too early for this. Ranpo waves over the bartender, silently gesturing to his cocktail
for a refill. When the bartender-- a tall girl, with long black hair-- goes to fill another shot for Shuuji, Ranpo shakes his head in a negative.
He doesn't need to be drinking any more.
Fishing the cherry out of the bottom of his drink, Ranpo says, "Then stop making it so
He doesn't need to be drinking any more.
Fishing the cherry out of the bottom of his drink, Ranpo says, "Then stop making it so
easy for people to leave."
"I don't make it /easy/!"
"You do, though, don't you?" Another cocktail gets placed in front of Ranpo, and he swaps out his empty glass for the new one. He takes a second to lick over the sugared rim, tasting the slight hint of lemon in it. "You act
"I don't make it /easy/!"
"You do, though, don't you?" Another cocktail gets placed in front of Ranpo, and he swaps out his empty glass for the new one. He takes a second to lick over the sugared rim, tasting the slight hint of lemon in it. "You act
like an asshole to push everyone away. You test everyone, pushing them away to see if they'll leave once you give them a reason; and when they /do/ leave, eventually, you're hurt and think you've been proven right again. Everyone always leaves, so why try with the next person?"
Making a frustrated noise, Shuuji makes as if he's going to get up and leave.
Ranpo forces him to sit down again by placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing down. He's weak, made dizzy by the amount of drinks he had and he crumbles easily beneath the force.
Ranpo's not done
Ranpo forces him to sit down again by placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing down. He's weak, made dizzy by the amount of drinks he had and he crumbles easily beneath the force.
Ranpo's not done
speaking to him yet. He's on a roll now, and while this /isn't/ what he had in mind for his evening, there's something very satisfying about tearing down this rich, spoiled boy's worldview.
Shuuji's only five years younger than him, but the age difference seems /massive/ right
Shuuji's only five years younger than him, but the age difference seems /massive/ right
now, especially when it's backed by the difference in their life experience.
"You're a self-fufilling prophecy, Tsushima Shuuji. You set yourself up for failure, and then wonder why you always end up so slow. You've been given everything you could ask for, and it's not enough
"You're a self-fufilling prophecy, Tsushima Shuuji. You set yourself up for failure, and then wonder why you always end up so slow. You've been given everything you could ask for, and it's not enough
for you. What more do you want?”
“Parents that love me. A boyfriend that doesn’t /cheat/ on me, or a girlfriend.”
Ranpo slurps on his drink. It’s already half-empty and he’s beginning to feel the tiniest buzz from it. Normally he’d be drinking more—it’s always fun to watch
“Parents that love me. A boyfriend that doesn’t /cheat/ on me, or a girlfriend.”
Ranpo slurps on his drink. It’s already half-empty and he’s beginning to feel the tiniest buzz from it. Normally he’d be drinking more—it’s always fun to watch
Kunikida lose his mind whenever Ranpo is late because of a hangover— but if he’s going to be hanging out with Shuuji, then /one/ of them needs to be sober. “Who cares if your parents didn’t love you? Doesn’t mean nobody else will and it doesn’t mean you can go around acting like
an asshole to everyone and cry about the consequences.”
Shuuji pushes himself up, sitting straight again. His face is getting a little green, so he’ll probably need to puke soon. It’s a shame he’s wearing all black. The stains will show forever if he gets any on himself. “You
Shuuji pushes himself up, sitting straight again. His face is getting a little green, so he’ll probably need to puke soon. It’s a shame he’s wearing all black. The stains will show forever if he gets any on himself. “You
don’t know anything about me,” he repeats, drunkenly confident, “I’m a very nice guy.”
Ranpo doesn’t bother to address /that/ idiocy with a comment, choosing instead to raise an eyebrow and stare at him disbelievingly until he’s wincing and looking away again.
With a sigh,
Ranpo doesn’t bother to address /that/ idiocy with a comment, choosing instead to raise an eyebrow and stare at him disbelievingly until he’s wincing and looking away again.
With a sigh,
Ranpo decides to take a /little/ mercy on him and change the subject.
“How’d you get that?” He asks, nodding towards the dingy bandages wrapped around his arm. They need to be changed. His fingers itch at the sight of them, feeling the need to replace them with clean ones.
“How’d you get that?” He asks, nodding towards the dingy bandages wrapped around his arm. They need to be changed. His fingers itch at the sight of them, feeling the need to replace them with clean ones.
The question makes Shuuji laugh. Loud, wheezing, uproarious laughter that catches the attention of some of the other people in the bar. “I,” he wheezes, slapping the bar top like Ranpo just told him a funny joke, “I tried to run Chuuya over. With my car.”
He puts his hands up,
He puts his hands up,
mimicking driving a car. “And then I tried to stab him. He was being an asshole and I wanted to make him shut up.”
Ranpo stares at him, eyes wide because—
Shuuji really is fucking stupid, isn’t he? Not only did he try to kill Dazai’s boy toy, but he just admitted it to a /cop/.
Ranpo stares at him, eyes wide because—
Shuuji really is fucking stupid, isn’t he? Not only did he try to kill Dazai’s boy toy, but he just admitted it to a /cop/.
"I'm going to pretend that you didn't just admit to two felonies," Ranpo mutters, rumbling his temple with his free hand, "because I don't feel like doing paperwork right now. Stop telling me that you are committing or trying to commit crimes."
Shuuji rolls his eyes. "If anyone
Shuuji rolls his eyes. "If anyone
committed a crime, it's my /dad/. He set Yoko on me. She bit me! Really hard!"
He waves his bandaged arm at him for emphasis and might have actually started to unwrap it if Ranpo didn't stop him.
"That's not a crime, that's /karma/," Ranpo snickers, keeping his fingers wrapped
He waves his bandaged arm at him for emphasis and might have actually started to unwrap it if Ranpo didn't stop him.
"That's not a crime, that's /karma/," Ranpo snickers, keeping his fingers wrapped
loosely around his wrist to keep Shuuji from doing anything stupid.
Well, anything more stupid than he's already done. Trying to kill the person Dazai is emotionally attached to is pretty high on the list of 'stupid things you shouldn't do', in Ranpo's opinion.
"You're lucky to
Well, anything more stupid than he's already done. Trying to kill the person Dazai is emotionally attached to is pretty high on the list of 'stupid things you shouldn't do', in Ranpo's opinion.
"You're lucky to
be alive," he mutters. He's sure that the /only/ reason Shuuji is still breathing is because of who he is. If it were anyone else--
Well, then Ranpo wouldn't be amused at how /clueless/ Shuuji is about how close he came to death, and would instead be hearing about his
Well, then Ranpo wouldn't be amused at how /clueless/ Shuuji is about how close he came to death, and would instead be hearing about his
mysterious disappearance.
"Lucky is a strong word," Shuuji huffs, shaking his head until his bangs fall over his eyes. He doesn't try to get out of Ranpo's grip, instead leaning slightly into him. "Now I'm homeless and broke and my arm hurts."
Much of Ranpo's sympathy is nixed
"Lucky is a strong word," Shuuji huffs, shaking his head until his bangs fall over his eyes. He doesn't try to get out of Ranpo's grip, instead leaning slightly into him. "Now I'm homeless and broke and my arm hurts."
Much of Ranpo's sympathy is nixed
by the fact that Shuuji /is/ an adult, even if a young one. He's not a child, he's not helpless, and his actions brought him here. He did this to himself by being cruel.
But--
Ranpo remembers what being homeless felt like. What being /poor/ felt like, and even if Shuuji's
But--
Ranpo remembers what being homeless felt like. What being /poor/ felt like, and even if Shuuji's
situation isn't nearly the same...
He still feels a /little/ sympathy. A little.
Just enough for Ranpo to wave down the bartender, intending to get Shuuji a glass of water. His hangover will be hell if he doesn't drink some soon. He looks like he's about to pass out at any
He still feels a /little/ sympathy. A little.
Just enough for Ranpo to wave down the bartender, intending to get Shuuji a glass of water. His hangover will be hell if he doesn't drink some soon. He looks like he's about to pass out at any
moment. "What are you going to do about it?"
Shuuji blinks at him. He looks confused for a second, like he's never considered the idea of being able to change his situation. Like he's just been going along and doing what he has to with the life he's been handed, but never making
Shuuji blinks at him. He looks confused for a second, like he's never considered the idea of being able to change his situation. Like he's just been going along and doing what he has to with the life he's been handed, but never making
his /own/. Always doing what he's been told to do, and what he's expected to do.
"What do you mean?" He asks, making a face at the glass of water that's put in front of him. He only drinks it when Ranpo stares at him hard enough.
Ranpo agrees; bar tap water isn't that good.
"What do you mean?" He asks, making a face at the glass of water that's put in front of him. He only drinks it when Ranpo stares at him hard enough.
Ranpo agrees; bar tap water isn't that good.
He probably wouldn't drink it either, but he, at least, has the sense not to get drunk in public. Or at least not anywhere without bottled water.
"Well, you made a fool out of yourself and got kicked out. Are you going to spend your time getting drunk in bars or are you going to
"Well, you made a fool out of yourself and got kicked out. Are you going to spend your time getting drunk in bars or are you going to
do something about it?"
Shuuji looks like he's considering the question /too/ hard, drawing Ranpo's patience thin. "I was hoping I could just drink about it?"
Ranpo snorts. Typical bratty college teenager. "Not happening, kid. It's time for you to make some changes. Stop being
Shuuji looks like he's considering the question /too/ hard, drawing Ranpo's patience thin. "I was hoping I could just drink about it?"
Ranpo snorts. Typical bratty college teenager. "Not happening, kid. It's time for you to make some changes. Stop being
an ass, and get your life together. I don't want to handcuff you again."
Shuuji swings around, eyes huge. "You would do that? I learned how to break out of them, by the way. Easy, once you get the hang of it."
Ranpo wouldn't cuff Shuuji the way he's thinking of, but it's cute
Shuuji swings around, eyes huge. "You would do that? I learned how to break out of them, by the way. Easy, once you get the hang of it."
Ranpo wouldn't cuff Shuuji the way he's thinking of, but it's cute
that he’s proud of being able to break out of simple cuffs.
Ranpo learned that when he was twelve, but he can’t expect /everyone/ to keep up with his skill level and expertise. It’d just be unfair.
“I think you’re right, though,” Shuuji continues, standing up from his seat.
Ranpo learned that when he was twelve, but he can’t expect /everyone/ to keep up with his skill level and expertise. It’d just be unfair.
“I think you’re right, though,” Shuuji continues, standing up from his seat.
He sways hard, nearly stumbling into the person behind him. Luckily, it’s a smaller guy, who just moves out of the way instead of causing a problem.
Not that Ranpo /dislikes/ causing problems, but he feels responsible for Shuuji right now, and he doesn’t feel like wading into a
Not that Ranpo /dislikes/ causing problems, but he feels responsible for Shuuji right now, and he doesn’t feel like wading into a
bar fight to defend the dumb puppy. If he gets banned from this bar too, he might end up just losing his mind.
“I’m tired of feeling like shit,” Shuuji declares, slapping his hand on the bar top authoritatively. “And I’m tired of making other people feel like shit too. New week,
“I’m tired of feeling like shit,” Shuuji declares, slapping his hand on the bar top authoritatively. “And I’m tired of making other people feel like shit too. New week,
new me, right?”
That’s... not exactly how things are supposed to go, but the enthusiasm is endearing. “Alright.”
Shuuji looks at him then, eyes huge and flashing with the bar lights. They’re pretty. Dark. Naïve.
“Okay, so what do I do?”
Throwing back the rest of his drink,
That’s... not exactly how things are supposed to go, but the enthusiasm is endearing. “Alright.”
Shuuji looks at him then, eyes huge and flashing with the bar lights. They’re pretty. Dark. Naïve.
“Okay, so what do I do?”
Throwing back the rest of his drink,
Ranpo snorts. "How should I know? Do I look like a therapist to you?"
It's getting late, and the night crowd is starting to shuffle in. These people are louder, rowdier. Some of them are already tipsy from their drinks at a different bar, and they slam up against the bar without
It's getting late, and the night crowd is starting to shuffle in. These people are louder, rowdier. Some of them are already tipsy from their drinks at a different bar, and they slam up against the bar without
consideration to the people already standing there.
Half of them are already drunk, so Ranpo's standoffish glare loses a lot of it's intimidation. He hates when strangers touch him, especially /drunk/ strangers.
"No, but you're /really/ smart, aren't you?" Shuuji asks.
Half of them are already drunk, so Ranpo's standoffish glare loses a lot of it's intimidation. He hates when strangers touch him, especially /drunk/ strangers.
"No, but you're /really/ smart, aren't you?" Shuuji asks.
Ranpo stands up, brushing off his vest. It's been a long day, and it's time he starts to head home. He doesn't feel like dealing with any more drunk people.
Though, he does have to admit that drunk Shuuji is pretty cute. Like a lost puppy, looking for someone to hold his leash.
Though, he does have to admit that drunk Shuuji is pretty cute. Like a lost puppy, looking for someone to hold his leash.
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm equipped to handle...whatever you got going on up there. If you /really/ want your life to change, you need professional help. Therapists work wonders. I've had mine for a few years now."
Shuuji follows him towards the front of the bar, walking
Shuuji follows him towards the front of the bar, walking
close on his heels. He's /much/ taller than Ranpo, towering over him by nearly an entire head, so seeing how eagerly he follows him is amusing.
"You're in therapy?" He repeats, but before Ranpo can get irritable at /that/ invasive question, he continues, "Do I need a doctors
"You're in therapy?" He repeats, but before Ranpo can get irritable at /that/ invasive question, he continues, "Do I need a doctors
note or something?"
Ranpo pauses, glad he's facing away because his lips twitch in amusement at that. "No. You just have to call and make an appointment."
Honestly, he's starting to believe that Shuuji really /was/ sheltered. Probably can't even cook for himself. He's had his
Ranpo pauses, glad he's facing away because his lips twitch in amusement at that. "No. You just have to call and make an appointment."
Honestly, he's starting to believe that Shuuji really /was/ sheltered. Probably can't even cook for himself. He's had his
whole life handed to him, treated like an incompetent child, and now that he's an /adult/, he doesn't know how to deal with himself.
Children are cruel, after all, to themselves and to others.
"Oh. Okay," Shuuji says, nearly bumping into Ranpo's back. He steadies himself with
Children are cruel, after all, to themselves and to others.
"Oh. Okay," Shuuji says, nearly bumping into Ranpo's back. He steadies himself with
a hand on his shoulder. His grip is too hard, nearly pulling Ranpo off balance.
They're near the door now, and just as they reach it, it opens. A stream of people stumble inside, laughing too-loud and their grins drunkenly lopsided. The group is all hanging onto each other, with
They're near the door now, and just as they reach it, it opens. A stream of people stumble inside, laughing too-loud and their grins drunkenly lopsided. The group is all hanging onto each other, with
some of the girls--college age, young-- clutching onto the arms of the boys in the group. They don't seem to see them or care, too busy calling out to each other and giggling.
Ranpo doesn't move, planting his feet. Shuuji herds close to his back, sheltering behind him as the
Ranpo doesn't move, planting his feet. Shuuji herds close to his back, sheltering behind him as the
crowd breaks into two around him.
"Where are we going?" Shuuji asks loudly, bending down to nearly shout in Ranpo's ear. With all the new people in the bar, filling up the dingy space with their loud voices and drunken bodies as they demand more drinks, it's getting too loud.
"Where are we going?" Shuuji asks loudly, bending down to nearly shout in Ranpo's ear. With all the new people in the bar, filling up the dingy space with their loud voices and drunken bodies as they demand more drinks, it's getting too loud.
"I--," Ranpo announces, pushing out of the bar on the tail end of the group. His phone is stuffed in his vest pocket, and he reaches in to grab it. "--am going home."
Outside, it's already close to full dark. He'll have to call a cab. As much as he'd love to bother Kunikida,
Outside, it's already close to full dark. He'll have to call a cab. As much as he'd love to bother Kunikida,
it's past his mandated bedtime, which means his phone will be on 'do not disturb'.
He could call Fukuzawa and he knows he'd answer the call--
But the idea of waking the boss up and making him come all the way down here, green eyes so understanding and yet /exhausted/, is not
He could call Fukuzawa and he knows he'd answer the call--
But the idea of waking the boss up and making him come all the way down here, green eyes so understanding and yet /exhausted/, is not
what he wants to deal with right now. The thought makes his stomach clench unpleasantly.
Ranpo has a limited tolerance when it comes to handling other people's emotions and needs on top of handling his /own/, and he doesn't want to put either of them in a position like /that/.
Ranpo has a limited tolerance when it comes to handling other people's emotions and needs on top of handling his /own/, and he doesn't want to put either of them in a position like /that/.
So, a cab.
"Oh," Shuuji mutters, faltering so hard that Ranpo can feel it behind him. His voice has dropped into something sad and somber, nothing like the drunkenly-upbeat tone he's been using the entire conversation.
The emotional whiplash is hard to keep up with, but Ranpo
"Oh," Shuuji mutters, faltering so hard that Ranpo can feel it behind him. His voice has dropped into something sad and somber, nothing like the drunkenly-upbeat tone he's been using the entire conversation.
The emotional whiplash is hard to keep up with, but Ranpo
remembers.
/ "Now I'm broke and homeless and my arm hurts." /
Knowing Shuuji, if he left him here, he'd only get himself into /more/ trouble. Get even more drunk, maybe get into a fight.
The bandages would never get changed. All that energy for a 'fresh start' or whatever he
/ "Now I'm broke and homeless and my arm hurts." /
Knowing Shuuji, if he left him here, he'd only get himself into /more/ trouble. Get even more drunk, maybe get into a fight.
The bandages would never get changed. All that energy for a 'fresh start' or whatever he
was talking about would be gone.
Very possibly the /next/ time they'd see each other is with Ranpo handcuffing him /again/, but in a decidedly less fun then.
Besides--
When Ranpo was low and on his last legs, feeling trapped and helpless, someone offered /him/ a helping hand.
Very possibly the /next/ time they'd see each other is with Ranpo handcuffing him /again/, but in a decidedly less fun then.
Besides--
When Ranpo was low and on his last legs, feeling trapped and helpless, someone offered /him/ a helping hand.
It feels disrespectful to Fukuzawa--and, distantly, to the memory of his parents-- not to offer the same help to someone else when they so clearly need it.
"And you're coming with me," Ranpo says, swinging around to pin Shuuji with a firm stare that shows he means /business/.
"And you're coming with me," Ranpo says, swinging around to pin Shuuji with a firm stare that shows he means /business/.
No arguing, no weaseling out it.
Not that he expects Shuuji to actually argue.
"Oh," Shuuji blinks, and even though he's a /head/ taller than Ranpo at least, the height difference doesn't seem so daunting when he's hunched over and looking confused.
Then the confusion melts
Not that he expects Shuuji to actually argue.
"Oh," Shuuji blinks, and even though he's a /head/ taller than Ranpo at least, the height difference doesn't seem so daunting when he's hunched over and looking confused.
Then the confusion melts
into a suggestive smirk and--
"/Oh/. Taking me /home/, huh?"
Yeah, there it is.
Ranpo arches an eyebrow at him. "Yes, to keep you out of trouble. And if you don't behave, I'll make you sleep outside. My neighbors have a doghouse. I'm sure you can fit, with enough incentive."
"/Oh/. Taking me /home/, huh?"
Yeah, there it is.
Ranpo arches an eyebrow at him. "Yes, to keep you out of trouble. And if you don't behave, I'll make you sleep outside. My neighbors have a doghouse. I'm sure you can fit, with enough incentive."
Shuuji tries to strike a pose, which just ends with him having to pinwheel his arms to keep his balance when he tips himself over too far.
The reminder of how /tipsy/ he is, probably even outright drunk even though he's handling his liquor well, all things considered, seems to
The reminder of how /tipsy/ he is, probably even outright drunk even though he's handling his liquor well, all things considered, seems to
be enough of a reminder that his flirty energy dies out again. "No," he mutters, adjusting his coat from where it's slipped over his shoulders. "I'll behave, I just-- I'm just tired, you know? I didn't sleep last night."
He's lucky he wasn't /put/ to sleep like a dog that bit
He's lucky he wasn't /put/ to sleep like a dog that bit
too hard and too often, but the downcast tilt to his eyes and his voice makes Ranpo's chest pang in sympathy.
"Yeah, I bet," he murmurs. He doesn't know exactly where Shuuji spent the night, but based on the smell of his clothes, it was probably a bar or in an alley nearby.
"Yeah, I bet," he murmurs. He doesn't know exactly where Shuuji spent the night, but based on the smell of his clothes, it was probably a bar or in an alley nearby.
Maybe /this/ bar and alleyway. "But don't worry, I got an extra futon you can use."
"Not your bed?" Shuuji looks so damn /hopeful/, it's almost amusing to shoot him down.
"No, you're dirty. You smell like vodka," Ranpo helpfully informs him, checking on the status of the Uber
"Not your bed?" Shuuji looks so damn /hopeful/, it's almost amusing to shoot him down.
"No, you're dirty. You smell like vodka," Ranpo helpfully informs him, checking on the status of the Uber
he ordered. It's a little over a block away. He's lucky it's /late/, otherwise getting around the city by car would take /forever/. "I don't let dirty things into my bed."
"Sounds like a boring sex life," he hears from behind him, like Shuuji didn't /mean/ for him to hear it.
"Sounds like a boring sex life," he hears from behind him, like Shuuji didn't /mean/ for him to hear it.
Ranpo snorts, not bothering to justify /that/ with a comment.
Aw, he thinks Ranpo is /vanilla/.
Truth is, his sex life is /exciting/, kinky, wild and /active/. Not that Shuuji knows.
Might never get the privilege of finding out, either, if he doesn't learn to hold his tongue.
Aw, he thinks Ranpo is /vanilla/.
Truth is, his sex life is /exciting/, kinky, wild and /active/. Not that Shuuji knows.
Might never get the privilege of finding out, either, if he doesn't learn to hold his tongue.
Ah, but Ranpo hasn't had a real, bonafide brat to tame in a while. He /loves/ a challenge and while his other partners have been /fun/, they give in too easily.
He takes Shuuji in, looking him up and down out of the corner of his eye. He's tall, lithe, with a young face and
He takes Shuuji in, looking him up and down out of the corner of his eye. He's tall, lithe, with a young face and
unruly hair that practically begs to be yanked on. His legs are /long/, waist slim, arms toned.
And he /does/ learn. Eventually. Ranpo's seen it for himself.
Plus, the added thought of fucking the son of one of the most dangerous men in town--truthfully, he would go for Dazai
And he /does/ learn. Eventually. Ranpo's seen it for himself.
Plus, the added thought of fucking the son of one of the most dangerous men in town--truthfully, he would go for Dazai
himself, but their tastes run a little too similarly, and while Ranpo /does/ enjoy a little battle for domination every once in a while, he prefers the satisfaction of willingly given submission-- on a semi-regular basis, or even /more/--
That's enough to make it interesting.
That's enough to make it interesting.
Hm. /Maybe/. Maybe, maybe.
The Uber pulls up then. The guy who leans to look out the window looks American, but his Japanese is fluent when he calls out to them. "Are you Ranpo-san?"
Grabbing Shuuji by the sleeve of his coat, Ranpo pushes him forward first. He goes easily,
The Uber pulls up then. The guy who leans to look out the window looks American, but his Japanese is fluent when he calls out to them. "Are you Ranpo-san?"
Grabbing Shuuji by the sleeve of his coat, Ranpo pushes him forward first. He goes easily,
stumbling slightly under the force but not protesting.
He has to nearly fold himself in half to get into the tiny car, grumbling to himself and nearly hitting his head on the door frame.
Waiting until he slides over to give Ranpo enough room, he follows him in and shuts the
He has to nearly fold himself in half to get into the tiny car, grumbling to himself and nearly hitting his head on the door frame.
Waiting until he slides over to give Ranpo enough room, he follows him in and shuts the
door behind them.
“I hope you don’t mind American music?” The driver asks, pulling away from the curb without hesitating. The interior of the car is clean and smells nice.
Shuuji looks like he might throw up soon. Ranpo gestures for him to roll down the window at least. He’s
“I hope you don’t mind American music?” The driver asks, pulling away from the curb without hesitating. The interior of the car is clean and smells nice.
Shuuji looks like he might throw up soon. Ranpo gestures for him to roll down the window at least. He’s
not paying if Shuuji pukes in the car.
“No, I don’t mind,” he says, buckling in. Shuuji waves a hand, which is probably a good an answer as the driver is going to get when the kid is pushing his forehead against the cool window and taking in deep, rhythmic breaths.
“Great!”
“No, I don’t mind,” he says, buckling in. Shuuji waves a hand, which is probably a good an answer as the driver is going to get when the kid is pushing his forehead against the cool window and taking in deep, rhythmic breaths.
“Great!”
The American says, reaching over to fiddle with the center console. They don’t really get too many American music stations here in Japan, but the man has his phone connected so he’s able to choose a song.
And when it starts to play, Ranpo can’t up his amused grin when he
And when it starts to play, Ranpo can’t up his amused grin when he
recognizes the opening riff. Karma or coincidence, this is just outright /funny/.
Leaning over to nudge Shuuji with his shoulder, he asks with a sly grin, “Do you know English?”
He would /assume/ he does, given that he probably has gone to the /best/ schools ever since he was a
Leaning over to nudge Shuuji with his shoulder, he asks with a sly grin, “Do you know English?”
He would /assume/ he does, given that he probably has gone to the /best/ schools ever since he was a
child, and the Japanese school system is very insistent on teaching English as a second language. But it just depends on how well he’s kept up with it.
“Not while I’m drunk,” Shuuji admits, pressing his cheek to the glass. He looks marginally better, but he squeezes his eyes
“Not while I’m drunk,” Shuuji admits, pressing his cheek to the glass. He looks marginally better, but he squeezes his eyes
shut when the driver takes a turn too-quickly.
That’s a shame because—
// “Stacy’s mom has got it going on.” //
— the song that’s playing is /hilarious/.
And Shuuji doesn’t seem to recognize it at all, too busy taming the nausea. Ranpo hums along with the beat, grinning.
That’s a shame because—
// “Stacy’s mom has got it going on.” //
— the song that’s playing is /hilarious/.
And Shuuji doesn’t seem to recognize it at all, too busy taming the nausea. Ranpo hums along with the beat, grinning.
Thankfully, Ranpo doesn’t live too far away. It’s only two stops away by station and the traffic gods seem to be smiling upon them, because it only takes the length of three songs before they’re pulling up to his apartment complex.
The second one Ranpo doesn’t recognize, but the
The second one Ranpo doesn’t recognize, but the
third one?
‘Guys My Age’ by Hey Violet.
Which is such a genre change that Ranpo would normally be offput by it— he doesn’t usually enjoy American music anyways— but the message of it has him snickering under his breath nearly the entire car ride.
The driver looks at him
‘Guys My Age’ by Hey Violet.
Which is such a genre change that Ranpo would normally be offput by it— he doesn’t usually enjoy American music anyways— but the message of it has him snickering under his breath nearly the entire car ride.
The driver looks at him
like he’s crazy, and Shuuji makes confused noises under his breath, but Ranpo ignores them both.
Life really is funny, sometimes. Especially when it’s at other people’s expense.
By the time Ranpo and Shuuji get dumped out of the car outside Ranpo’s complex, Ranpo is in a
Life really is funny, sometimes. Especially when it’s at other people’s expense.
By the time Ranpo and Shuuji get dumped out of the car outside Ranpo’s complex, Ranpo is in a
/good/ mood.
Is this what he had planned for the evening? No. Is this better and more entertaining that his original idea of getting tipsy and going home alone?
Oh yeah.
“Aren’t you a detective? Why do you live in such a shitty place?” Shuuji mutters, staring blearily up at
Is this what he had planned for the evening? No. Is this better and more entertaining that his original idea of getting tipsy and going home alone?
Oh yeah.
“Aren’t you a detective? Why do you live in such a shitty place?” Shuuji mutters, staring blearily up at
his complex.
Ranpo isn’t offended by that, because he’s right. It is a shitty place, all things considered.
It’s a tall, rundown complex in the poor district. The walls are crumbling in some places, and the fence surrounding the place is rusty and old. Some of the windows are
Ranpo isn’t offended by that, because he’s right. It is a shitty place, all things considered.
It’s a tall, rundown complex in the poor district. The walls are crumbling in some places, and the fence surrounding the place is rusty and old. Some of the windows are
boarded up, and others have been thrice-replaced. The locks are the only thing that are new and modern, because Ranpo replaces them whenever there’s a break in.
There’s trash littering the floor, and the stray dogs and cats like to eat out of the nearby dumpster.
In all senses
There’s trash littering the floor, and the stray dogs and cats like to eat out of the nearby dumpster.
In all senses
of the word, this place /is/ shitty.
But when Ranpo was fresh off the streets, it seemed like the height of luxury. And now that’s he’s /better/, in a better place with actual money and friends and a career and a /life/—
He can’t make himself let go of this last remaining
But when Ranpo was fresh off the streets, it seemed like the height of luxury. And now that’s he’s /better/, in a better place with actual money and friends and a career and a /life/—
He can’t make himself let go of this last remaining
shred of home.
His first home, since his parents died.
“You know what they say,” Ranpo says, whimsical, leading the way up the dirty concrete steps. “Home is where the heart is.”
Shuuji shrugs, taking that as his answer gracefully.
The outer door is opened easily with a
His first home, since his parents died.
“You know what they say,” Ranpo says, whimsical, leading the way up the dirty concrete steps. “Home is where the heart is.”
Shuuji shrugs, taking that as his answer gracefully.
The outer door is opened easily with a
key Ranpo keeps in one of his pockets. Shuuji stumbles in, bracing himself on the concrete wall.
The interior is mostly clean, if usually devoid of life. Not many people linger in the hallways outside, too wary to take a chance.
Ranpo lives on the third floor, in the middle,
The interior is mostly clean, if usually devoid of life. Not many people linger in the hallways outside, too wary to take a chance.
Ranpo lives on the third floor, in the middle,
and he ends up pushing and prodding Shuuji up the steps in front of him. The stairs are uneven and dangerous even when sober, and he doesn’t want Shuuji to fall backwards.
By the time they make it to his door, Shuuji is muttering incoherently under his breath grumpily.
By the time they make it to his door, Shuuji is muttering incoherently under his breath grumpily.
Hopefully he’s not being loud enough to wake all his neighbors. Everyone around here are light sleepers, and Ranpo hasn’t brought anyone home ever, for that exact reason.
In this instance, Shuuji /is/ his first. One of the /very/ few people Ranpo has let know where he lives, and
In this instance, Shuuji /is/ his first. One of the /very/ few people Ranpo has let know where he lives, and
one of the only ones that will see the inside of his tiny 1-bedroom apartment.
He wouldn’t say he’s /nervous/, but he does fumble with his keys once.
When the door opens for them, Shuuji follows him inside easily enough. He’s /trying/ to be quiet, he can tell, but his shoulder
He wouldn’t say he’s /nervous/, but he does fumble with his keys once.
When the door opens for them, Shuuji follows him inside easily enough. He’s /trying/ to be quiet, he can tell, but his shoulder
bumps noisily against the door frame and he nearly takes out the small desk standing just around the corner on the inside.
Ranpo grabs him by the back of the coat, forcibly steadying him. He /just/ cleaned his house, and he’s not about to clean it again because Shuuji knocked
Ranpo grabs him by the back of the coat, forcibly steadying him. He /just/ cleaned his house, and he’s not about to clean it again because Shuuji knocked
over everything.
Inside, it’s cramped. Every inch of space is covered with /something/, and there’s so many colors and shades it’s hard to get a grasp on what everything /is/ at first glance.
Ranpo likes to collect things that interest him, and once he brings it home it’s
Inside, it’s cramped. Every inch of space is covered with /something/, and there’s so many colors and shades it’s hard to get a grasp on what everything /is/ at first glance.
Ranpo likes to collect things that interest him, and once he brings it home it’s
hard to convince himself to throw it away. He likes to collect pretty and interesting things.
"Bathroom," he says, pushing Shuuji in that direction. It's the only other room in the house. His bedroom is more of a /closet/ that fits only his bed and a tiny nightstand in it.
The
"Bathroom," he says, pushing Shuuji in that direction. It's the only other room in the house. His bedroom is more of a /closet/ that fits only his bed and a tiny nightstand in it.
The
lighting in here is dim, but it's just enough to get by.
"Sit," Ranpo orders, pushing Shuuji in the direction of the stool in the corner. There's a first aid kit under the sink, just stocked enough for Ranpo to care for most of his injuries at home.
He hates hospitals. A
"Sit," Ranpo orders, pushing Shuuji in the direction of the stool in the corner. There's a first aid kit under the sink, just stocked enough for Ranpo to care for most of his injuries at home.
He hates hospitals. A
leftover relic from his past life.
Besides, he's not about to let Shuuji get dried and gross blood over his futon. Blood takes forever to wash out.
"Unwrap the bandages."
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Shuuji jolt into action at the command. He's fumbling and not kind
Besides, he's not about to let Shuuji get dried and gross blood over his futon. Blood takes forever to wash out.
"Unwrap the bandages."
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Shuuji jolt into action at the command. He's fumbling and not kind
to his injury, ripping off the bandages harshly whenever it sticks to the skin. Idiot is probably going to make himself bleed again.
He tosses the dirty bandages in the trash. They fall a little short, and Shuuji has to lean forward and shove them fully into the bin while making
He tosses the dirty bandages in the trash. They fall a little short, and Shuuji has to lean forward and shove them fully into the bin while making
a face at having to touch them again.
The injury underneath isn't as bad as it /could/ be. He's seen dogs take chunks out of people's arms, but this one looks bad mostly because it's been neglected. It doesn't even look like it was properly cleaned. Like Shuuji just wrapped
The injury underneath isn't as bad as it /could/ be. He's seen dogs take chunks out of people's arms, but this one looks bad mostly because it's been neglected. It doesn't even look like it was properly cleaned. Like Shuuji just wrapped
his arms in bandages to stop the bleeding, and called it a day.
It's like he's /asking/ to get an infection.
"This is gonna hurt," Ranpo mutters, taking one of his bath towels and getting it wet with lukewarm water.
With firm fingers to keep Shuuji from jerking away, he tilts
It's like he's /asking/ to get an infection.
"This is gonna hurt," Ranpo mutters, taking one of his bath towels and getting it wet with lukewarm water.
With firm fingers to keep Shuuji from jerking away, he tilts
his arm so it's facing the light. He's marginally more gentle when he wipes away the dried blood and scabs.
There's four punctures, two on the top of his forearm and a matched pair along the bottom. Fang imprints.
They're not deep enough to need stitches, but they /do/ need to
There's four punctures, two on the top of his forearm and a matched pair along the bottom. Fang imprints.
They're not deep enough to need stitches, but they /do/ need to
be cleaned properly, or he'll wind up with an infection.
Ranpo does take a sadistic pleasure in doing that for him, dumping hydrogen peroxide on them to clean any bacteria from the bite and holding Shuuji still as he whines and wiggles and tries to tug his arm away.
"Don't be a
Ranpo does take a sadistic pleasure in doing that for him, dumping hydrogen peroxide on them to clean any bacteria from the bite and holding Shuuji still as he whines and wiggles and tries to tug his arm away.
"Don't be a
baby," he tells him, taking some antibiotic cream and smearing it over the deepest parts.
"You're /torturing/ me! That hurts worse than the bite itself," Shuuji wails dramatically, slumped against the wall and looking at him pitifully. His eyes are shiny, wet with reflexive
"You're /torturing/ me! That hurts worse than the bite itself," Shuuji wails dramatically, slumped against the wall and looking at him pitifully. His eyes are shiny, wet with reflexive
tears.
"Healing always hurts, dumbass," he responds, making sure he's satisfied with the injury before slapping on some Band-Aids over it.
He doesn't cover it with gauze. He likes Shuuji better when he /doesn't/ look like a reincarnated version of his father. All young and
"Healing always hurts, dumbass," he responds, making sure he's satisfied with the injury before slapping on some Band-Aids over it.
He doesn't cover it with gauze. He likes Shuuji better when he /doesn't/ look like a reincarnated version of his father. All young and
bruised and destined for greatness.
Or death.
In the mafia, sometimes those meant the same thing.
"You're done," Ranpo announces, turning around to clean up all the items he'd pulled out of his pack. Because of how cramped his bathroom is, that leaves his back pressed right up
Or death.
In the mafia, sometimes those meant the same thing.
"You're done," Ranpo announces, turning around to clean up all the items he'd pulled out of his pack. Because of how cramped his bathroom is, that leaves his back pressed right up
against Shuuji. He can see him in the mirror, a dark spot in the otherwise dingy white of his bathroom.
"Are you gonna at least kiss it better?" Shuuji grumbles, giving him a hopeful look. He's taken his jacket off, and it's draped across his lap. His undershirt is a dark red,
"Are you gonna at least kiss it better?" Shuuji grumbles, giving him a hopeful look. He's taken his jacket off, and it's draped across his lap. His undershirt is a dark red,
clinging to his chest.
Ranpo snorts, shoving his first aid kit back underneath the sink. "No," he says, "I don't kiss drunk injured boys in my bathroom. Try again later."
Shuuji looks sad for a moment, and then he perks back up. "So I /can/ try again later?"
Ah, so hopeful.
Ranpo snorts, shoving his first aid kit back underneath the sink. "No," he says, "I don't kiss drunk injured boys in my bathroom. Try again later."
Shuuji looks sad for a moment, and then he perks back up. "So I /can/ try again later?"
Ah, so hopeful.
Ranpo doesn't answer that, choosing instead to pad out of the bathroom with a sly smile.
There's a small storage closet near his 'bedroom', and that's where he keeps all his stuff he doesn't need or use on a regular basis. Coats, extra blankets, and his spare futon.
It's a
There's a small storage closet near his 'bedroom', and that's where he keeps all his stuff he doesn't need or use on a regular basis. Coats, extra blankets, and his spare futon.
It's a
little dusty when he unrolls it, but it'll be fine for the night. He'll just cover it up with a blanket, and it'll be as good as new.
"You can sleep here tonight."
Shuuji looks at the threadbare futon with a hint of disgust, but doesn't say anything. His shoes get kicked off
"You can sleep here tonight."
Shuuji looks at the threadbare futon with a hint of disgust, but doesn't say anything. His shoes get kicked off
and placed near the door. His jacket gets shoved under a nearby desk.
It's only when he's popped the button on his jeans and has his thumbs hooked into his waistband that he seems to realize that Ranpo hasn't actually /left/.
"Are you just gonna stand there and watch?" He asks,
It's only when he's popped the button on his jeans and has his thumbs hooked into his waistband that he seems to realize that Ranpo hasn't actually /left/.
"Are you just gonna stand there and watch?" He asks,
offering him a cheeky grin. Teasingly, he snaps his waistband against his hips.
With the way his shirt is pulled up, Ranpo can see the outline of his hips. He's skinny more than /toned/, but there /is/ a dusting of dark hair leading down that catches his attention.
He arches an
With the way his shirt is pulled up, Ranpo can see the outline of his hips. He's skinny more than /toned/, but there /is/ a dusting of dark hair leading down that catches his attention.
He arches an
eyebrow at him, leaning his shoulder against the wall. "Why, do you have something to /hide/?"
"No," Shuuji says, not looking away as he shimmies his jeans a little further down his hips. "But I usually sleep /naked/, and I don't think you have any clothes that would fit me."
"No," Shuuji says, not looking away as he shimmies his jeans a little further down his hips. "But I usually sleep /naked/, and I don't think you have any clothes that would fit me."
That's a /bold/ assumption. Ranpo actually has a pair of oversized sweats and sweater for when he's feeling under the weather but--
Shuuji doesn't need to know that, does he?
"You're probably right," Ranpo concedes, letting his mouth curl into a sharp, teasing grin.
He
Shuuji doesn't need to know that, does he?
"You're probably right," Ranpo concedes, letting his mouth curl into a sharp, teasing grin.
He
doesn't move to leave. He's giving him a /challenge/.
After a moment, Shuuji shrugs and keeps undressing. He leaves the underwear--tight-cut briefs in navy blue that leave very little to the imagination and outline his butt cutely-- on for now, pushing down his jeans until he
After a moment, Shuuji shrugs and keeps undressing. He leaves the underwear--tight-cut briefs in navy blue that leave very little to the imagination and outline his butt cutely-- on for now, pushing down his jeans until he
can reach down and pull them off by his ankles. He leaves his socks on.
His thighs are toned, slim. Ranpo can see the slight ripple of muscle there when he straightens back up, hands going to the buttons on his shirt.
He'd look cute in thigh highs, Ranpo muses, or maybe a
His thighs are toned, slim. Ranpo can see the slight ripple of muscle there when he straightens back up, hands going to the buttons on his shirt.
He'd look cute in thigh highs, Ranpo muses, or maybe a
garter belt. Something /cute/, to embarrass him.
Ranpo would /love/ to see him in pink. He'd probably hate it, be all squirmy and blushy and maybe try to cover himself up--
But he'd do it. Ranpo would bet on it.
Shuuji's fingers fumble a few times on the buttons, and he has
Ranpo would /love/ to see him in pink. He'd probably hate it, be all squirmy and blushy and maybe try to cover himself up--
But he'd do it. Ranpo would bet on it.
Shuuji's fingers fumble a few times on the buttons, and he has
to break eye contact so he can look down and see what he's doing.
Ranpo's lips twitch. Poor baby can't hold his drink.
Cute.
Eventually the shirt gets completely discarded, but whatever suave, sensual energy Shuuji was going for is obliterated when the sleeve gets caught on
Ranpo's lips twitch. Poor baby can't hold his drink.
Cute.
Eventually the shirt gets completely discarded, but whatever suave, sensual energy Shuuji was going for is obliterated when the sleeve gets caught on
his hand and he has to flap his arm around a few times to get it off.
Then he's /mostly/ naked, with only the black boxer briefs to cover him and Ranpo allows himself the opportunity to /look/.
He was right-- Shuuji is skinny, but not unattractively so. He's got a dusting of
Then he's /mostly/ naked, with only the black boxer briefs to cover him and Ranpo allows himself the opportunity to /look/.
He was right-- Shuuji is skinny, but not unattractively so. He's got a dusting of
dark hair on his chest and between his hips. He's pale, and could use a few hours in the sun somewhere. His collarbones are sharp, regal. Elegant, almost.
He's not /bad/, but he could use some work. A little bit of feeding, an improved workout routine so he can finally fill out
He's not /bad/, but he could use some work. A little bit of feeding, an improved workout routine so he can finally fill out
his body instead of looking like a gangly teenager--
Oh.
/Aw/, is he already starting to harden at the attention Ranpo's giving him? Just from being /looked at/?
Not a /lot/, but Ranpo notices /everything/.
That's /adorable/.
But it's like Ranpo said-- he doesn't kiss
Oh.
/Aw/, is he already starting to harden at the attention Ranpo's giving him? Just from being /looked at/?
Not a /lot/, but Ranpo notices /everything/.
That's /adorable/.
But it's like Ranpo said-- he doesn't kiss
drunk boys, and especially not for the first time. Not when they aren't in the right mind to consent.
And not before Ranpo has given them a chance to /work/ for it.
Giving Shuuji one last hot glance over, smirking slyly at the way he practically preens under the attention,
And not before Ranpo has given them a chance to /work/ for it.
Giving Shuuji one last hot glance over, smirking slyly at the way he practically preens under the attention,
Ranpo turns around and heads into his room. "Good night."
There's a strangled noise from behind him that sounds like /frustration/, but he soundly ignores it.
He shuts the door on Shuuji, using his makeshift lock on the door to ensure that the little brat doesn't do anything
There's a strangled noise from behind him that sounds like /frustration/, but he soundly ignores it.
He shuts the door on Shuuji, using his makeshift lock on the door to ensure that the little brat doesn't do anything
/sneaky/, like try to crawl into his bed while he's sleeping.
It's not quite the doghouse (Ranpo lied about that, actually, none of his neighbors have a doghouse) but he /knows/ that the futon has to be too short for Shuuji, because it's the perfect size for /himself/.
Also,
It's not quite the doghouse (Ranpo lied about that, actually, none of his neighbors have a doghouse) but he /knows/ that the futon has to be too short for Shuuji, because it's the perfect size for /himself/.
Also,
the blankets he gave him /suck/. They're scratchy and itchy compared to the luxuriously soft and fluffy ones Ranpo keeps in his bed.
Payback, for being a brat. Puppies sleep on the /floor/ when they're naughty.
Still, this sleep is probably the best Ranpo's gotten in a while.
Payback, for being a brat. Puppies sleep on the /floor/ when they're naughty.
Still, this sleep is probably the best Ranpo's gotten in a while.
He tells himself it's not because there's someone /else/ in his home with him.
He just never got used to sleeping /alone/, that's all.
---------- +
He just never got used to sleeping /alone/, that's all.
---------- +
Sometimes, it amazes Chuuya to recognize how far he's come and how much he's matured in the last few weeks.
For instance, if he had been staring at the logo of /this/ store a few weeks back, he'd be stuttering and red with embarrassment. The idea of going in would've /never/
For instance, if he had been staring at the logo of /this/ store a few weeks back, he'd be stuttering and red with embarrassment. The idea of going in would've /never/
occurred to him.
Now, he's just arching a brow at Dazai in silent question, wondering why they're here in /person/ instead of browsing the online store. From what he say, the online portion had /way/ more options, and customizable ones too.
Dazai curls his fingers at him,
Now, he's just arching a brow at Dazai in silent question, wondering why they're here in /person/ instead of browsing the online store. From what he say, the online portion had /way/ more options, and customizable ones too.
Dazai curls his fingers at him,
beckoning him closer. For once, they've managed to park /near/ the store itself, and it's barely a block of walking to get here.
Because it's impossible /not/ to come when Dazai calls, Chuuya steps forward. He fits himself into Dazai's side naturally, shoulders sliding under
Because it's impossible /not/ to come when Dazai calls, Chuuya steps forward. He fits himself into Dazai's side naturally, shoulders sliding under
his arm.
"Why didn't we just shop online?" He grumbles quietly, allowing Dazai to pull him closer towards the store.
It's two days since the /incident/-- which is how Chuuya is referring to it now, because 'the day I nearly got ran over and knifed' feels too /visceral/-- and
"Why didn't we just shop online?" He grumbles quietly, allowing Dazai to pull him closer towards the store.
It's two days since the /incident/-- which is how Chuuya is referring to it now, because 'the day I nearly got ran over and knifed' feels too /visceral/-- and
they had the /collar/ conversation last night.
Well, maybe calling it a /conversation/ is a a bit generous. Chuuya barely got through "I was thinking about what you said about getting me a collar, and I think I'd really like one--" before Dazai was rolling over him like a storm,
Well, maybe calling it a /conversation/ is a a bit generous. Chuuya barely got through "I was thinking about what you said about getting me a collar, and I think I'd really like one--" before Dazai was rolling over him like a storm,
pinning him to the mattress and kissing him breathless and making him /cry/.
In a good way. In a I'm-going-to-be-very-sore-tomorrow kind of way.
Then Dazai /barely/ let him sleep him--sue him, Chuuya is using all his sick days for class and soaking up the luxury of being able
In a good way. In a I'm-going-to-be-very-sore-tomorrow kind of way.
Then Dazai /barely/ let him sleep him--sue him, Chuuya is using all his sick days for class and soaking up the luxury of being able
to sleep in until noon-- because the 'store' he wanted to go to opens at 10a.m.
It's not like Chuuya can protest, because he has to go back to class /tomorrow/, and he'd never give up an opportunity to spend more time with Dazai.
Even if that means suffering a /little/
It's not like Chuuya can protest, because he has to go back to class /tomorrow/, and he'd never give up an opportunity to spend more time with Dazai.
Even if that means suffering a /little/
embarrassment, because this is /another/ adult store.
He doesn't even know the name, because the building is unmarked and unassuming.He wouldn't even know there /was/ a store here if it weren't for Dazai.
"Online is fun," Dazai concedes, fingers playing with the end of Chuuya's
He doesn't even know the name, because the building is unmarked and unassuming.He wouldn't even know there /was/ a store here if it weren't for Dazai.
"Online is fun," Dazai concedes, fingers playing with the end of Chuuya's
braid. He tugs on it occasionally, prompting Chuuya to pinch at his side in retaliation. "But I prefer to look at things like this in person. Check the quality of it. Besides, it's much quicker if I have to make a return.
Chuuya can't argue with /that/ logic, pausing with Dazai
Chuuya can't argue with /that/ logic, pausing with Dazai
as the man reaches to open the door for them both.
But it does bring up another question, one that makes /slight/ insecurity coil in his stomach. "Have you bought collars for other people before?"
It's not like Chuuya can fault him if he /did/--though Dazai has never mentioned
But it does bring up another question, one that makes /slight/ insecurity coil in his stomach. "Have you bought collars for other people before?"
It's not like Chuuya can fault him if he /did/--though Dazai has never mentioned
anyone special or any previous relationships, beyond Sasaki-- but he can't /help/ feeling a bit insecure. He knows Dazai likes him but--
There's /better/ people out there. Older, more experienced, smarter, more beautiful. Someone who /deserves/ to be spoiled the way Dazai spoils
There's /better/ people out there. Older, more experienced, smarter, more beautiful. Someone who /deserves/ to be spoiled the way Dazai spoils
him, and didn't /stumble/ into it the way he did.
He doesn't try to indulge those thoughts, because the more he thinks about it,the harder they are to ignore, and the guiltier Chuuya feels because it feels like he's /dismissing/ Dazai's feelings whenever he doubts himself.
It's
He doesn't try to indulge those thoughts, because the more he thinks about it,the harder they are to ignore, and the guiltier Chuuya feels because it feels like he's /dismissing/ Dazai's feelings whenever he doubts himself.
It's
hard sometimes, being in a relationship. It's /worth/ it, obviously, but it doesn't cure the problems Chuuya has with himself.
As always, Dazai pushes into the building first, holding the door open for Chuuya to follow behind. He's always been strangely insistent that /he/
As always, Dazai pushes into the building first, holding the door open for Chuuya to follow behind. He's always been strangely insistent that /he/
needs to be the one to enter a building first.
Chuuya hardly notices it now though, automatically waiting until Dazai tilts his head to usher him in.
"Mm," Dazai hums, seeming to think about it for a moment. "Nope. You're my first, little siren."
/That/ makes Chuuya's heart
Chuuya hardly notices it now though, automatically waiting until Dazai tilts his head to usher him in.
"Mm," Dazai hums, seeming to think about it for a moment. "Nope. You're my first, little siren."
/That/ makes Chuuya's heart
skip a beat, heat rising in his face. Dazai's been so many of /his/ firsts, and the idea of being one of /his/ firsts too makes him ridiculously giddy.
(It's not /technically/ the truth, because Dazai /has/ bought collars for general use, but this is the /first/ time he's bought
(It's not /technically/ the truth, because Dazai /has/ bought collars for general use, but this is the /first/ time he's bought
a personalized one /for/ someone. The first time he's bought something so... /meaningful/ for someone he's in a relationship with.
He's terribly excited. His mind has been spinning with ideas and options ever since Chuuya admitted he wanted one, and he knows Chuuya is supposed
He's terribly excited. His mind has been spinning with ideas and options ever since Chuuya admitted he wanted one, and he knows Chuuya is supposed
to pick it out himself, and obviously his opinion matters but--
God, there's /so/ many Dazai wants to see him in.Pretty, subtle ones, ones with attachments for /leashes/,one with a tag on it, colored ones, one that says /Daddy/--
If he's not careful, and if Chuuya is /willing/,
God, there's /so/ many Dazai wants to see him in.Pretty, subtle ones, ones with attachments for /leashes/,one with a tag on it, colored ones, one that says /Daddy/--
If he's not careful, and if Chuuya is /willing/,
they'll probably end up with a whole /collection/.)
Inside the store is...
Well, it's /classier/ than the last adult store, but not by much. The front part is arranged with shoes and knick-knacks, but /behind/ that, Chuuya can see a big array of toys. He even recognizes most of
Inside the store is...
Well, it's /classier/ than the last adult store, but not by much. The front part is arranged with shoes and knick-knacks, but /behind/ that, Chuuya can see a big array of toys. He even recognizes most of
them, this time.
To their left is the reason why they came to /this/ store specifically, nearly an hour away from Dazai's house:
Collars. Whole shelves of them, displayed in shelves and on hooks, on the walls. Dozens of them, in different colors and shapes and sizes.
It's a
To their left is the reason why they came to /this/ store specifically, nearly an hour away from Dazai's house:
Collars. Whole shelves of them, displayed in shelves and on hooks, on the walls. Dozens of them, in different colors and shapes and sizes.
It's a
bit daunting, if he's honest, because how is he supposed to /choose/?
Is it like fashion, and he just picks the one that is most practical? One that's more /subtle/, so he can wear it more often?
More /bold/?
If there's a rulebook for picking which one he wants to wear, Dazai
Is it like fashion, and he just picks the one that is most practical? One that's more /subtle/, so he can wear it more often?
More /bold/?
If there's a rulebook for picking which one he wants to wear, Dazai
didn't give him one. He's not sure there even /is/ one.
Dazai makes nice with the shop owner for a bit, making conversation that's familiar enough that it hints that he's a repeat customer. Makes sense, considering he's got a /collection/ of toys, and this store is even bigger
Dazai makes nice with the shop owner for a bit, making conversation that's familiar enough that it hints that he's a repeat customer. Makes sense, considering he's got a /collection/ of toys, and this store is even bigger
and better stocked than the one in Osaka.
Dazai probably funds the store nearly himself, with the rate he spends money and buys things.
By himself, Chuuya wanders over to the collars section and just...
Takes it all in. Takes in the different styles and colors, and pauses at
Dazai probably funds the store nearly himself, with the rate he spends money and buys things.
By himself, Chuuya wanders over to the collars section and just...
Takes it all in. Takes in the different styles and colors, and pauses at
whichever ones catch his attention.
Some of them are /way/ too bold for him right now, with big metal rings attached and chains dangling from them, or with big metal letters along the front. They're appealing in a /way/, but Chuuya thinks he wants something /subtle/ for his
Some of them are /way/ too bold for him right now, with big metal rings attached and chains dangling from them, or with big metal letters along the front. They're appealing in a /way/, but Chuuya thinks he wants something /subtle/ for his
first collar.
He's not ready for something so /obvious/ and eccentric, and he does want to be able to wear his new collar in /public/ if he wants to.
Along the back left, is where the more subtle pieces are. There's not as many, but enough for him to have a choice of options.
He's not ready for something so /obvious/ and eccentric, and he does want to be able to wear his new collar in /public/ if he wants to.
Along the back left, is where the more subtle pieces are. There's not as many, but enough for him to have a choice of options.
There is /one/ that immediately catches his eye.
It's a light pink, light enough that it could be white in certain lighting, and it's made of simple leather. The only decoration on it is a small heart in the middle, made of metal. It has an adjustable latch on it, with a few
It's a light pink, light enough that it could be white in certain lighting, and it's made of simple leather. The only decoration on it is a small heart in the middle, made of metal. It has an adjustable latch on it, with a few
holes so he can choose the size he wants.
It's /cute/, subtle and could be passed off as a choker. (He doesn't want people on the street to see him and just /know/ that he's wearing a collar, that still seems embarrassing.)
It's also small enough that it could be tucked
It's /cute/, subtle and could be passed off as a choker. (He doesn't want people on the street to see him and just /know/ that he's wearing a collar, that still seems embarrassing.)
It's also small enough that it could be tucked
under the collar of his shirt without anyone noticing. Small enough that he could sleep with it on, and not be bothered.
(He will sleep in it.
In fact, there's only /one/ instance where he takes it off with no intention of putting it back /on/ and--
That's a much sadder story
(He will sleep in it.
In fact, there's only /one/ instance where he takes it off with no intention of putting it back /on/ and--
That's a much sadder story
than the one of him /getting/ the collar. It will be the worst day of his life.
But that's the thing about broken clocks and burnt-out timers:
Most of the time, they can always be fixed. Restarted.
Tik, tok, Chuuya. You're running out of time.)
He takes it off the shelf,
But that's the thing about broken clocks and burnt-out timers:
Most of the time, they can always be fixed. Restarted.
Tik, tok, Chuuya. You're running out of time.)
He takes it off the shelf,
weighing it in his hand. It /feels/ nice, pleasantly heavy and smooth in his grip.
"That one?"
Dazai's voice comes from behind him, startling him. He whirls around, clutching his hand to his chest as his heart leaps in fear-response.
Dazai's standing just behind him, hands
"That one?"
Dazai's voice comes from behind him, startling him. He whirls around, clutching his hand to his chest as his heart leaps in fear-response.
Dazai's standing just behind him, hands
hidden behind his back. He's got a /sneaky/ smile one, but before Chuuya can even narrow his eyes in suspicion, he's gesturing with his chin at the leather still in his hand.
"I like it," Chuuya says, feeling oddly defensive as he presses the collar to his chest. "It's cute."
"I like it," Chuuya says, feeling oddly defensive as he presses the collar to his chest. "It's cute."
Dazai nods, offering him a bright smile. "It /is/ cute," he agrees. "Do you want to try it on?"
Oh, yeah, he should probably do that, right?
There's a mirror floating around head-level on a shelf a few feet away. He moves over there, reaching behind to flip his braid upwards
Oh, yeah, he should probably do that, right?
There's a mirror floating around head-level on a shelf a few feet away. He moves over there, reaching behind to flip his braid upwards
so he can slide the collar around his neck.
It cinches in the /back/, so it's a bit difficult to buckle up with only one person. He has to turn the entire thing around so he can see the buckle in the mirror, and then slide it back around once it's tightened.
Dazai follows him
It cinches in the /back/, so it's a bit difficult to buckle up with only one person. He has to turn the entire thing around so he can see the buckle in the mirror, and then slide it back around once it's tightened.
Dazai follows him
over to the mirror, but doesn't offer to help. He's rocking back and forth on his heels and watching avidly, but his hands remain firmly behind his back.
Chuuya has to adjust the collar a few times before the little metal heart is resting comfortably over his Adam's Apple. It's
Chuuya has to adjust the collar a few times before the little metal heart is resting comfortably over his Adam's Apple. It's
loose enough that he can breathe comfortably, and jst tight enough that he can feel it's presence around his neck whenever he moves.
It's like a choker, but with more /meaning/. It's like having Dazai's hand wrapped lovingly around his neck, all the time. A reminder and a
It's like a choker, but with more /meaning/. It's like having Dazai's hand wrapped lovingly around his neck, all the time. A reminder and a
promise, even when they're not physically together.
It's also subtle enough and so /lightly/ pink that he can match it to almost every outfit he can think of.
It's perfect. He likes it, a lot.
He meets Dazai's eyes in the mirror, opening his mouth to tell him that /this/ is
It's also subtle enough and so /lightly/ pink that he can match it to almost every outfit he can think of.
It's perfect. He likes it, a lot.
He meets Dazai's eyes in the mirror, opening his mouth to tell him that /this/ is
the one he wants--
When he notices that Dazai's hands are /still/ behind his back. He narrows his eyes, squinting at him suspiciously. "What's behind you back?"
Dazai shifts in place a little, intentionally widening his eyes to make himself cuter and harder to resist. "Just...
When he notices that Dazai's hands are /still/ behind his back. He narrows his eyes, squinting at him suspiciously. "What's behind you back?"
Dazai shifts in place a little, intentionally widening his eyes to make himself cuter and harder to resist. "Just...
hear me out, okay?"
Chuuya doesn't agree to /anything/,watching him in the mirror as he takes his hands out from behind his back and presents to him--
A hanger,with sheer, lacy white lingerie hanging from it. It's strappy, ethereal. Sexy.
Dazai holds the hanger just underneath
Chuuya doesn't agree to /anything/,watching him in the mirror as he takes his hands out from behind his back and presents to him--
A hanger,with sheer, lacy white lingerie hanging from it. It's strappy, ethereal. Sexy.
Dazai holds the hanger just underneath
his chin, giving him his /best/ puppy eyes.
It's hard to resist when he looks like /that/. Chuuya can already feel himself beginning to crumble, even though he had never considered wearing /lingerie/.
"Please?" Dazai asks, voice sweet and pleading. Then, as if the idea will
It's hard to resist when he looks like /that/. Chuuya can already feel himself beginning to crumble, even though he had never considered wearing /lingerie/.
"Please?" Dazai asks, voice sweet and pleading. Then, as if the idea will
help to convince him, he points out, "It matches the collar."
It doesn't /exactly/, considering the collar is pink and the lingerie is /white/, but he can respect how hard Dazai is trying to convince him.
Stepping forward, he takes one of the straps in hand. It's cute, he has
It doesn't /exactly/, considering the collar is pink and the lingerie is /white/, but he can respect how hard Dazai is trying to convince him.
Stepping forward, he takes one of the straps in hand. It's cute, he has
to admit. Just strappy enough that it doesn’t seem /too/ feminine and instead more /sexy/. There’s straps that would hug his hips and thighs and waist, all places that /Dazai/ likes to hold.
However there /is/ a bra section, and while Chuuya isn’t necessarily opposed to wearing
However there /is/ a bra section, and while Chuuya isn’t necessarily opposed to wearing
something like that on his chest but he doesn’t /have/ breasts. His pecs are defined, but not /that/ much.
Wouldn’t it look weird with the loose fabric?
“Do you think it’ll fit?” He asks, tugging on the trap that would hug his waist. He’s not exactly proportionated like a
Wouldn’t it look weird with the loose fabric?
“Do you think it’ll fit?” He asks, tugging on the trap that would hug his waist. He’s not exactly proportionated like a
woman, even though he is still pretty small.
“It’s the smallest they have,” Dazai responds, moving to show him a buckle on one of the straps. “And it’s adjustable. It’ll fit.”
Dazai /does/ know his size pretty well, so he’s probably right. It looks about his size anyways, but
“It’s the smallest they have,” Dazai responds, moving to show him a buckle on one of the straps. “And it’s adjustable. It’ll fit.”
Dazai /does/ know his size pretty well, so he’s probably right. It looks about his size anyways, but
it’ll probably need to be adjusted around his hips and thighs especially.
“You want me to wear this?” He asks, just to make sure. It’s obvious but—
He never /thought/ about wearing something like this, especially for someone else, and it’s a /little/ hard to reconcile with.
“You want me to wear this?” He asks, just to make sure. It’s obvious but—
He never /thought/ about wearing something like this, especially for someone else, and it’s a /little/ hard to reconcile with.
He doesn’t think he has the body type to pull something so /revealing/ off, but Dazai looks like he might /beg/ him to put it on.
“Yes,” Dazai responds immediately, voice hopeful.
“For you?”
Dazai nods, looking /very/ close to an excited puppy. Minus the ears and tail.
“Yes,” Dazai responds immediately, voice hopeful.
“For you?”
Dazai nods, looking /very/ close to an excited puppy. Minus the ears and tail.
“I don’t know,” Chuuya hedges, playing into his instincts to /tease/ and play. He’s interested but he still needs to be /convinced/. “What’s in it for me?”
It’s shocking how fast Dazai can go from his /boyfriend/—silly, playful, sweet, a little stupid— to the man who /dominates/
It’s shocking how fast Dazai can go from his /boyfriend/—silly, playful, sweet, a little stupid— to the man who /dominates/
him on a regular basis.
“Oh, /baby/,” he practically purrs, reaching out with one hand to hook a finger underneath the leather of his collar. He tugs, pulling him closer and forcing Chuuya to tilt his chin back and rise up on his toes.
Forcing him to meet a gaze that is
“Oh, /baby/,” he practically purrs, reaching out with one hand to hook a finger underneath the leather of his collar. He tugs, pulling him closer and forcing Chuuya to tilt his chin back and rise up on his toes.
Forcing him to meet a gaze that is
suddenly /molten/, nearly glowing with heat. So hot it feels too warm to breathe, suddenly.
“I’ll fuck you so good you won’t even remember your /name/ by the time I’m done with you.”
Chuuya shivers, lips parting. An electric thrill shoots down his spine, pooling in his stomach.
“I’ll fuck you so good you won’t even remember your /name/ by the time I’m done with you.”
Chuuya shivers, lips parting. An electric thrill shoots down his spine, pooling in his stomach.
He is not immune to the idea of sexual favors.
Besides, Dazai has proven that almost everything he suggests turns out /good/ for him. Mind-bendingly good.
He’ll take a chance with /this/ too, even if he does feel a little daunted by the idea of wearing something... so overtly
Besides, Dazai has proven that almost everything he suggests turns out /good/ for him. Mind-bendingly good.
He’ll take a chance with /this/ too, even if he does feel a little daunted by the idea of wearing something... so overtly
sexual.
“I’m not trying it on here though,” he mutters, swaying forward a little farther. He aches for a kiss, even just a /little/ one.
Dazai’s finger flips around, stroking the pad of his finger over his rabbiting pulse for a second before sliding out. “That’s fine. I just
“I’m not trying it on here though,” he mutters, swaying forward a little farther. He aches for a kiss, even just a /little/ one.
Dazai’s finger flips around, stroking the pad of his finger over his rabbiting pulse for a second before sliding out. “That’s fine. I just
want to get a few more things, and then we can go.”
A ‘few more things’ being an /obscenely/ huge bottle of something called ‘cum lube’—the bottle is mostly covered by the label, but he can see some liquid that looks thicker and /whiter/ than regular lube—, a pack of batteries,
A ‘few more things’ being an /obscenely/ huge bottle of something called ‘cum lube’—the bottle is mostly covered by the label, but he can see some liquid that looks thicker and /whiter/ than regular lube—, a pack of batteries,
what /looks/ like some sort of toy he can put on his tongue, and—
A /leash/. Made of silver chain, with a white leather strap on the end. It has a hole that Dazai can slip his wrist into.
Chuuya can barely even look at the cashier, even though he knows this is just a regular
A /leash/. Made of silver chain, with a white leather strap on the end. It has a hole that Dazai can slip his wrist into.
Chuuya can barely even look at the cashier, even though he knows this is just a regular
day for /her/. She barely even looks twice at them, beyond taking down Dazai’s membership information.
The man has a /membership/ to a /sex store/. Chuuya hopes he gets discounts or something. Maybe there’s a points system.
‘Buy 10,000yen worth of toys, get a vibrator free’ or
The man has a /membership/ to a /sex store/. Chuuya hopes he gets discounts or something. Maybe there’s a points system.
‘Buy 10,000yen worth of toys, get a vibrator free’ or
something.
The bag the cashier uses to put all their stuff in is discrete, a plain brown without any labels. Chuuya is grateful, even though he’s pretty Dazai wouldn’t bat an eye at carrying a bag from an adult store down the street in plain view.
If there’s anything Chuuya
The bag the cashier uses to put all their stuff in is discrete, a plain brown without any labels. Chuuya is grateful, even though he’s pretty Dazai wouldn’t bat an eye at carrying a bag from an adult store down the street in plain view.
If there’s anything Chuuya
has learned, it’s not Dazai is /shameless/, at all times and hours of the day. At least Chuuya acts decent in /public/.
Well, most of the time, anyways. The public play with Dazai nonwithstanding, because he was clearly /coerced/ into doing that.
Then Dazai is ushering him
Well, most of the time, anyways. The public play with Dazai nonwithstanding, because he was clearly /coerced/ into doing that.
Then Dazai is ushering him
out the door, and for /once/, he seems just as eager to get home as Chuuya is. Usually he likes to make him /wait/, to show off his skills of self-control and patience by drawing out the anticipation as long as physically possible--
But now he's almost /rushing/, like he's so
But now he's almost /rushing/, like he's so
eager to see Chuuya dress up for him that he's almost pushing him into the car to get him going faster.
It's /amusing/, to be on the other side, for once. Yes, he wants to try on the lingerie--wants to get /fucked/, he's needy and addicted-- but clearly not as much as Dazai
It's /amusing/, to be on the other side, for once. Yes, he wants to try on the lingerie--wants to get /fucked/, he's needy and addicted-- but clearly not as much as Dazai
wants to see him in it.
Chuuya eyes him as he's driving them home--five over the speed limit, which is a /bit/ faster than usual, but nothing that should get them pulled over-- wondering...
He already said /please/ once so--
Is this Chuuya's chance to make /him/ beg?
Chuuya eyes him as he's driving them home--five over the speed limit, which is a /bit/ faster than usual, but nothing that should get them pulled over-- wondering...
He already said /please/ once so--
Is this Chuuya's chance to make /him/ beg?
It's always been /him/ begging so far, and don't get him wrong, he /likes/ that. He likes their power dynamic, likes how easy and effortless it is to give into Dazai and let him take complete control--
But what would it be like on the /other/ side? To have /Dazai/ on his knees?
But what would it be like on the /other/ side? To have /Dazai/ on his knees?
The mental image of /that/ sends a thrill of excitement through him, making him take a sip of the coffee they stopped to get to cover up his rising blush.
He wants it. He just doesn't know how to /get/ it.
He's a /lot/ more confident than he was in the beginning, and he
He wants it. He just doesn't know how to /get/ it.
He's a /lot/ more confident than he was in the beginning, and he
recognizes that. /However/, they've fallen into a natural order of things, where Dazai takes control and Chuuya submits, and he doesn't know how to /flip/ that without messing it up or making it awkward or killing the mood.
The best course of action is probably just to /talk/
The best course of action is probably just to /talk/
about it. To tell Dazai that he doesn't mind having /some/ control sometimes, and that he /wants/ to have power over him too, sometimes.
He makes a mental note to bring it up sometime. Not now, because this is the /first/ time he's doing something like this and he's already
He makes a mental note to bring it up sometime. Not now, because this is the /first/ time he's doing something like this and he's already
nervous. He wants the /first/ time to go easy and good, which means letting Dazai take control and show him what to do.
Next time, though. When he's a little more confident, and can work the situation to his /advantage/.
When they finally arrive home--just under an hour later,
Next time, though. When he's a little more confident, and can work the situation to his /advantage/.
When they finally arrive home--just under an hour later,
because Dazai was speeding the /entire/ time--, Yoko and Kozo greet them at the door.
Chuuya feels bad that they didn't get them anything on their shopping trip, so he takes a moment to feed them both a handful of treats to make up for it.
Dazai gives their ears a quick stroke
Chuuya feels bad that they didn't get them anything on their shopping trip, so he takes a moment to feed them both a handful of treats to make up for it.
Dazai gives their ears a quick stroke
before disappearing upstairs.
Anticipation swirls heavily in the air, gathering like sun rays swallowed easily down. Sticking to his throat and lungs, pushing his blood to pump a /little/ faster, a little heavier. He's hyperaware of himself in a way he rarely is, cognizant of
Anticipation swirls heavily in the air, gathering like sun rays swallowed easily down. Sticking to his throat and lungs, pushing his blood to pump a /little/ faster, a little heavier. He's hyperaware of himself in a way he rarely is, cognizant of
the sway of his hips and the way his chest expands on a breath.
Part of him wants to draw it out, as revenge for all the times Dazai made /him/ wait but--
He's addicted himself, and now that he /knows/ what's waiting for him upstairs-- /"Oh, /baby/, I'll fuck you so good you
Part of him wants to draw it out, as revenge for all the times Dazai made /him/ wait but--
He's addicted himself, and now that he /knows/ what's waiting for him upstairs-- /"Oh, /baby/, I'll fuck you so good you
won't even remember your name."/-- how is he supposed to /wait/?
Patience has never been a virtue of his, despite his father's best efforts. If he wants something, he wants it /now/, immediately.
When he joins Dazai upstairs, the man is nowhere to be found. However, the door
Patience has never been a virtue of his, despite his father's best efforts. If he wants something, he wants it /now/, immediately.
When he joins Dazai upstairs, the man is nowhere to be found. However, the door
to the bathroom has been left open. The light is on, the spill of warmth and brightness beckoning Chuuya in.
There, spread out on the counter and waiting for him, are three things:
The choker, which he had to take off to buy and Dazai didn't let him put back on in the car. The
There, spread out on the counter and waiting for him, are three things:
The choker, which he had to take off to buy and Dazai didn't let him put back on in the car. The
leash, which is coiled up in a perfect circle, like /that's/ supposed to make it any less dirty.
And the lingerie, taken off the hook and straightened until it's pristine and perfect against the black marble.
Well. That's a pretty obvious sign, isn't it?
He shuts the door,
And the lingerie, taken off the hook and straightened until it's pristine and perfect against the black marble.
Well. That's a pretty obvious sign, isn't it?
He shuts the door,
making sure to lock it so that Dazai can't get a sneak peek before Chuuya's ready.
Stripping his clothes off is easy, routine. He shaved and trimmed everything a few days ago,before the /incident/, so he doesn't need to do that--
Though, now that he's /considering/ it, wouldn't
Stripping his clothes off is easy, routine. He shaved and trimmed everything a few days ago,before the /incident/, so he doesn't need to do that--
Though, now that he's /considering/ it, wouldn't
the lingerie look better if he had shaved legs? It's not his legs are /obnoxiously/ hairy, because he doesn't grow a lot of hair anyways, and what hair he /does/ grow on his body is a light orangey-blond, almost too faint to see but--
When he envisions wearing something like
When he envisions wearing something like
/this/, he imagines silky smooth skin. Sleek and shiny and perfect.
Fuck it. Why not? It gives him extra time to prepare, and lets Dazai simmer in the meantime.
Shaving his legs is harder than he thought it'd be, actually. He has to hike his leg up onto the counter with his
Fuck it. Why not? It gives him extra time to prepare, and lets Dazai simmer in the meantime.
Shaving his legs is harder than he thought it'd be, actually. He has to hike his leg up onto the counter with his
knee pressed to his chest. He steals some of Dazai's shaving cream, because he took a shower this morning and he doesn't want to take another one.
He ends up nicking himself like three times, when he's trying to shave his knee-- an awkward, nearly impossible task-- and near his
He ends up nicking himself like three times, when he's trying to shave his knee-- an awkward, nearly impossible task-- and near his
ankle when he goes too fast. He's pretty sure he missed a stripe of hair along his calf, and he doesn't know if he's supposed to shave /behind/ his knee or not, so he just doesn't.
It's fine. It doesn't have to be /perfect/. He just has to be /presentable/.
Dazai has some
It's fine. It doesn't have to be /perfect/. He just has to be /presentable/.
Dazai has some
fancy lotion that Chuuya's pretty sure is imported from France or something, and he slathers his legs up until he's slippery and shiny.
Then comes the /real/ trial:
Putting on the lingerie.
Without it being on the hanger, it's hard to figure out exactly where everything
Then comes the /real/ trial:
Putting on the lingerie.
Without it being on the hanger, it's hard to figure out exactly where everything
/goes/. The straps are confusing, and pulling it on is awkward because he has to adjust each part.
The built-in collar, he actually takes off entirely. There's a little hook that connects it to the straps that run lengthwise down his body, and he hooks /that/ to his brand-new
The built-in collar, he actually takes off entirely. There's a little hook that connects it to the straps that run lengthwise down his body, and he hooks /that/ to his brand-new
collar instead.
Eventually, he gets it right, snapping all the pieces in place. Taking a breath, he looks at himself in the mirror and--
Okay, yeah, he can /definitely/ see the appeal to this.
The white color makes his hair and eyes pop even more. The straps over his hips and
Eventually, he gets it right, snapping all the pieces in place. Taking a breath, he looks at himself in the mirror and--
Okay, yeah, he can /definitely/ see the appeal to this.
The white color makes his hair and eyes pop even more. The straps over his hips and
thighs are just a /little/ too tight, making the skin on either side bulge out a little in compensation. The lace itself feels pretty nice against his skin, and once he's tugged the top down a little farther than it's meant to go, his chest fills it up pretty nicely.
The
The
/underwear/, on the other hand, is a bit uncomfortable. Clearly, this wasn't exactly built with his /bits/ in mind, so finding out the exact way to stretch the lace around his dick is /hard/. Plus, it's a /thong/ in the back, which admittedly does make his butt look very nice but
it's a little /uncomfortable/ to get used to? Like having a wedgie, but smaller and constantly.
Still, though, the visual makes up for /every/ ounce of awkward fumbling. He's /hot/. Pretty. Ethereal. Like something out of a magazine.
And this is all /before/ Dazai has seen him.
Still, though, the visual makes up for /every/ ounce of awkward fumbling. He's /hot/. Pretty. Ethereal. Like something out of a magazine.
And this is all /before/ Dazai has seen him.
He's probably going to lose his /mind/ and rock his world as soon as he does. He promised, after all, and Dazai always keeps his promises.
It's that thought that gives him the bravery to take the leash--untouched so far-- and unroll it. There's a small metal loop on the back of
It's that thought that gives him the bravery to take the leash--untouched so far-- and unroll it. There's a small metal loop on the back of
his collar, right at the nape of his neck. It takes him a second to clip it on.
Then--
There's nothing left to /do/ but to go out into the room. He's shaved and lotioned, and touched up his makeup. He's dressed, collared, /leashed/.
Time to shine.
Taking a deep breath, he
Then--
There's nothing left to /do/ but to go out into the room. He's shaved and lotioned, and touched up his makeup. He's dressed, collared, /leashed/.
Time to shine.
Taking a deep breath, he
throws open the door.
The light in the bedroom is comparatively darker than in the bathroom, so he has to blink a few times until his vision adjusts.
The first thing he sees is /Dazai/, sitting in the armchair by the bed. He's leaning forward slightly, phone forgotten in his
The light in the bedroom is comparatively darker than in the bathroom, so he has to blink a few times until his vision adjusts.
The first thing he sees is /Dazai/, sitting in the armchair by the bed. He's leaning forward slightly, phone forgotten in his
hand as he /devours/ him with his gaze. With how dark it is, his eyes look pitch black, endless pools of darkness that entice him further in.
Chuuya strikes a pose in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the frame and cocking his hip to the side. His fingers find the end of
Chuuya strikes a pose in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the frame and cocking his hip to the side. His fingers find the end of
the leash, swinging the leather at the end in slow, cocky circles. "Like what you see?" He purrs, fluttering his lashes and letting his lips curl into a self-confident smile.
How could he be anything /less/ than confident when Dazai's staring at him like /that/? Like he might
How could he be anything /less/ than confident when Dazai's staring at him like /that/? Like he might
eat him /alive/, like nothing is more important to him in this moment than /Chuuya/. Like he's been knocked off-center, and his self-control is fraying at the edges.
"Yes," he responds, voice dark and throbbing, curling out of the darkness, "I /do/. You're /beautiful/, doll."
"Yes," he responds, voice dark and throbbing, curling out of the darkness, "I /do/. You're /beautiful/, doll."
Chuuya preens under the attention,arching his back and tilting his hips forward.
Dazai raises a hand, beckoning with long, elegant fingers. "Come here, lovely."
Eager, Chuuya goes to take a step forward--
"No," Dazai interrupts, voice darkening. "I want you to /crawl/ for me."
Dazai raises a hand, beckoning with long, elegant fingers. "Come here, lovely."
Eager, Chuuya goes to take a step forward--
"No," Dazai interrupts, voice darkening. "I want you to /crawl/ for me."
Chuuya falters, hesitating. That's not what he was expecting at /all/. It makes him /pause/, wondering what exactly to /do/--
But something about how self-assured and /sinful/ Dazai's voice is, like sweet red wine and dark chocolate, makes his knees start to buckle in response.
But something about how self-assured and /sinful/ Dazai's voice is, like sweet red wine and dark chocolate, makes his knees start to buckle in response.
Whiskey-brown eyes flash at him in the darkness, /approving/ as his knees hit the floor. His hands follow next, cold wood against his palms.
"/There/ you are," Dazai says,low. "Come here."
He settles back in his chair with that, spreading his thighs in invitation. He's changed,
"/There/ you are," Dazai says,low. "Come here."
He settles back in his chair with that, spreading his thighs in invitation. He's changed,
into slacks that seem too formal for home wear but are /perfect/ for this exact moment.
He's even wearing /shoes/, shiny and clean.
The first reach forward with his hand feels less like a conscious decision and more giving into instincts. Accepting all the heat that Dazai
He's even wearing /shoes/, shiny and clean.
The first reach forward with his hand feels less like a conscious decision and more giving into instincts. Accepting all the heat that Dazai
ignites within him, all the /desires/, all the filth and sin and debauchery at the talented hands of /one/ man.
His knee follows naturally, spine rolling sensually. The chain of his leash drags along the floor loudly, nearly getting caught up beneath his legs. Making sure he
His knee follows naturally, spine rolling sensually. The chain of his leash drags along the floor loudly, nearly getting caught up beneath his legs. Making sure he
doesn't kneel on it when he's /trying/ to sink into the mood of what's happening is annoying.
He could hold the chain in one hand to make sure it stays out of his way, or he could--
Pausing for a moment, he looks up at Dazai through his lashes. The man is staring him down,
He could hold the chain in one hand to make sure it stays out of his way, or he could--
Pausing for a moment, he looks up at Dazai through his lashes. The man is staring him down,
like an arrogant king watching him approach, all sharp eyes and sharp smile, teeth glinting like treasure in the low light.
Without breaking eye contact, Chuuya finds the end of the chain where it connects into the strip of white leather--
And brings it to his mouth.
Without breaking eye contact, Chuuya finds the end of the chain where it connects into the strip of white leather--
And brings it to his mouth.
The chain is cold in his mouth,hard against his teeth.
It has /nothing/ on the way the sight of Dazai's hands tightening on the arms of the chair, digging his nails in like he's fighting against the urge to reach out and drag him closer, jaw clenching around the things he wants
It has /nothing/ on the way the sight of Dazai's hands tightening on the arms of the chair, digging his nails in like he's fighting against the urge to reach out and drag him closer, jaw clenching around the things he wants
to /say/--
The next step, back rounding and then arching in a sensual roll of movement, is even easier than the first. He's only a few feet away now, every step bringing him closer, dragged into the orbit of a dying star and set afire to burn alongside.
Another step. Another.
The next step, back rounding and then arching in a sensual roll of movement, is even easier than the first. He's only a few feet away now, every step bringing him closer, dragged into the orbit of a dying star and set afire to burn alongside.
Another step. Another.
Coincidentally, or perhaps on purpose, Dazai's knees are spread /just/ wide enough for him to settle between. Room enough for /him/, and nothing else.
He comes to his knees, wrapping one hand around Dazai's ankle. The other slides up his thigh, silently fawning over the bunched
He comes to his knees, wrapping one hand around Dazai's ankle. The other slides up his thigh, silently fawning over the bunched
muscle there.
He presses his cheek against the inside of his knee. The material of his slacks is pleasantly rough against his skin, sweet friction after so long of /aching/ to be touched.
Dazai's hand comes down and Chuuya feels almost like a /cat/, pushing into the
He presses his cheek against the inside of his knee. The material of his slacks is pleasantly rough against his skin, sweet friction after so long of /aching/ to be touched.
Dazai's hand comes down and Chuuya feels almost like a /cat/, pushing into the
fingers that stroke over his cheek with almost loving gentleness.
“Look at you,” Dazai murmurs, almost to himself. “So /beautiful/. Pretty and perfect and /eager/.”
He /is/ eager. He’s already starting to harden in the panties, just from the attention and the sheer /dominance/
“Look at you,” Dazai murmurs, almost to himself. “So /beautiful/. Pretty and perfect and /eager/.”
He /is/ eager. He’s already starting to harden in the panties, just from the attention and the sheer /dominance/
Dazai radiates like an oncoming storm. The lace is rough, slightly grating against sensitive skin and the sensation makes him squirm in place.
Fingers wrap around the chain hanging from his mouth, gently tugging it free. Chuuya lets it go without complaint, mouth opening for
Fingers wrap around the chain hanging from his mouth, gently tugging it free. Chuuya lets it go without complaint, mouth opening for
Dazai at the slightest pressure.
Dazai’s hands look like they were /made/ to hold a leash, elegantly wrapping the chain over his knuckles and threading it through his fingers until the leash is taut.
His mouth gets coaxed open a little farther, just far enough that Dazai can
Dazai’s hands look like they were /made/ to hold a leash, elegantly wrapping the chain over his knuckles and threading it through his fingers until the leash is taut.
His mouth gets coaxed open a little farther, just far enough that Dazai can
push his thumb in. The pad of his finger presses down on his tongue, silencing him and encouraging him to /suck/ in the same movement.
“The things I’m going to do to you,” Dazai muses to himself, eyes black. The chain wrapped around his fingers presses against Chuuya’s cheek,
“The things I’m going to do to you,” Dazai muses to himself, eyes black. The chain wrapped around his fingers presses against Chuuya’s cheek,
slowly warming to skin temperature.
With a thumb in his mouth, Chuuya can’t /say/ anything, but he doesn’t need words to express how /eager/ he is. He looks up at Dazai through his lashes, deliberately widening his eyes into a pleading pout at the same time he hollows his cheeks
With a thumb in his mouth, Chuuya can’t /say/ anything, but he doesn’t need words to express how /eager/ he is. He looks up at Dazai through his lashes, deliberately widening his eyes into a pleading pout at the same time he hollows his cheeks
and /sucks/.
Dazai's eyes seem to get /redder/ as he gets excited, the bulge in his slacks slowly growing and turning Chuuya into a heated mess. Being able to affect him, even when he's acting controlled and dominating, is like a drug Chuuya can't get enough of.
Thumb hooking
Dazai's eyes seem to get /redder/ as he gets excited, the bulge in his slacks slowly growing and turning Chuuya into a heated mess. Being able to affect him, even when he's acting controlled and dominating, is like a drug Chuuya can't get enough of.
Thumb hooking
behind his teeth, Dazai tugs him upwards.
It's slightly awkward to shuffle upwards when he doesn't have that much leverage or room to maneuver, but Chuuya manages it. He ends up with a knee on either side of Dazai's thighs, suspended over his lap.
"Good boy," Dazai mutters,
It's slightly awkward to shuffle upwards when he doesn't have that much leverage or room to maneuver, but Chuuya manages it. He ends up with a knee on either side of Dazai's thighs, suspended over his lap.
"Good boy," Dazai mutters,
and uses the leash to tug him into a first, searing kiss.
This kiss is different from all the others before. For one, Dazai is /teasing/, slotting his upper lip between Chuuya's, and nibbling lightly on his pouting bottom lip. He seems more intent on driving him /crazy/ than
This kiss is different from all the others before. For one, Dazai is /teasing/, slotting his upper lip between Chuuya's, and nibbling lightly on his pouting bottom lip. He seems more intent on driving him /crazy/ than
giving him what he /wants/.
Secondly--
Whenever Chuuya gets too into it, whenever he presses forward too hard or tries to catch Dazai in a bite, hands tugging demandingly at his hair--
Dazai tugs on the leash until he's forced to submit to the pull, reluctantly going lax in
Secondly--
Whenever Chuuya gets too into it, whenever he presses forward too hard or tries to catch Dazai in a bite, hands tugging demandingly at his hair--
Dazai tugs on the leash until he's forced to submit to the pull, reluctantly going lax in
his lap and letting himself be kissed exactly how Dazai wants to kiss him.
Which is long,lingering, a reverent offering to the heat slowly coming to boil inside them. It's only when Chuuya's lips are tingling and half-numb that his /tongue/ comes into play, the tip of it sliding
Which is long,lingering, a reverent offering to the heat slowly coming to boil inside them. It's only when Chuuya's lips are tingling and half-numb that his /tongue/ comes into play, the tip of it sliding
over sensitive flesh and making him gasp.
Then his tongue is in his mouth, and his fingers are threaded through the leash, and his other hand is smoothing up his thigh. He's burning hot underneath him and coaxing him into mindless desire.
Every tug on the leash is /arousing/,
Then his tongue is in his mouth, and his fingers are threaded through the leash, and his other hand is smoothing up his thigh. He's burning hot underneath him and coaxing him into mindless desire.
Every tug on the leash is /arousing/,
a physical reminder of the control Dazai has over him. He doesn't /need/ the leash to order him around, because he /likes/ being good, but there's something so visceral about being pushed and pulled around.
Like he's /helpless/, unable to do anything except take what's given to
Like he's /helpless/, unable to do anything except take what's given to
him and moan for more.
Dazai's thumb slides under one of the straps on his thigh, stroking over the soft skin of his inner thigh. His hands are rough with use,calloused from work, and /talented/. His fingers are long enough that they wrap nearly the width of his thigh, squeezing
Dazai's thumb slides under one of the straps on his thigh, stroking over the soft skin of his inner thigh. His hands are rough with use,calloused from work, and /talented/. His fingers are long enough that they wrap nearly the width of his thigh, squeezing
and kneading at his flesh until his breath is catching in his throat.
His leash gets pulled,forcibly tugging him backwards until the kiss is broken. Chuuya leans backward to compensate for the pull, reaching one hand back to brace himself on Dazai's knee.
"I /like/ when you're
His leash gets pulled,forcibly tugging him backwards until the kiss is broken. Chuuya leans backward to compensate for the pull, reaching one hand back to brace himself on Dazai's knee.
"I /like/ when you're
all dressed up for me," he murmurs, hand running up his thigh and over the curve of his hip. It lingers in spots, tugging at the straps over his hips and waist, fingers rubbing over the lace until Chuuya is nearly squirming from the sensation and beginning to pant. "Do you like
it?"
He /does/, actually, partly because he feels so... /sexy/ in it. Irresistible, like a wet dream come to life.
Partly because he'd like almost anything if it made Dazai like /this/, all purring dominance and sensual control, petting pleasure into him with every stroke of
He /does/, actually, partly because he feels so... /sexy/ in it. Irresistible, like a wet dream come to life.
Partly because he'd like almost anything if it made Dazai like /this/, all purring dominance and sensual control, petting pleasure into him with every stroke of
his fingers and brush of his palm.
When Dazai makes a tsk'ing noise and tugs on him, Chuuya nods. He opens his mouth to give a verbal answer, but he cuts himself off with a choked groan when his palm settles over his straining erection.
He's still trapped in the panties, lace
When Dazai makes a tsk'ing noise and tugs on him, Chuuya nods. He opens his mouth to give a verbal answer, but he cuts himself off with a choked groan when his palm settles over his straining erection.
He's still trapped in the panties, lace
rough against his skin. Beyond it, the heat of Dazai's palm is nearly /scorching/. The friction is rough, but Chuuya arches into the attention, rolling his hips forward and letting his head tip back.
"I thought so," Dazai muses, tracing the outline of his cock with a teasing
"I thought so," Dazai muses, tracing the outline of his cock with a teasing
fingertip. When he finds the slightly-wet spot where Chuuya is starting to leak pre-cum, he rubs the wet lace over the sensitive slit mercilessly.
“But now that you’re /in/ it, how am I supposed to take it /off/ you, hm? How am I supposed to get you all messy when you look so
“But now that you’re /in/ it, how am I supposed to take it /off/ you, hm? How am I supposed to get you all messy when you look so
pretty?”
As nice as being /admired/ feels, makes heat swirl in his stomach, he needs /more/. Dazai promised him.
He wiggles forward more, until he’s sitting directly over the bulge beneath Dazai’s zipper. Dazai lets him, watching him with amused, heated eyes as Chuuya gets
As nice as being /admired/ feels, makes heat swirl in his stomach, he needs /more/. Dazai promised him.
He wiggles forward more, until he’s sitting directly over the bulge beneath Dazai’s zipper. Dazai lets him, watching him with amused, heated eyes as Chuuya gets
comfortable and finds his balance. He rocks downward, grinding against Dazai's clothed erection until he's pulling out a long, low hiss from the man.
He doesn't say please, though he will if Dazai wants him too. Instead he just lets him /feel/ him, the heat of his body behind
He doesn't say please, though he will if Dazai wants him too. Instead he just lets him /feel/ him, the heat of his body behind
the lace, the way his muscles move under the skin, the way he seems /made/ to fit in Dazai's arms, a perfect match.
Dazai's erection thickens underneath him, growing hotter, harder. Chuuya wants it so bad it /aches/.
"I guess you're right," Dazai says, even though Chuuya
Dazai's erection thickens underneath him, growing hotter, harder. Chuuya wants it so bad it /aches/.
"I guess you're right," Dazai says, even though Chuuya
didn't /say/ anything. His hand, now roaming over his chest and pinching at his nipples through the fabric, leaves for a moment, reaching for the nearby table. "If we get /this/ set dirty--"
By the curl of his mouth, the heat swirling in his eyes, and the bottle of lube he's
By the curl of his mouth, the heat swirling in his eyes, and the bottle of lube he's
pulling out of the drawer, the erection he's currently grinding against--
Dazai plans on getting him /very/ dirty, just the way Chuuya loves to be.
"-- we'll just have to get you /new/ ones,right?"
Surprisingly, Dazai hands him the bottle. It's the /new/ bottle he just bought,
Dazai plans on getting him /very/ dirty, just the way Chuuya loves to be.
"-- we'll just have to get you /new/ ones,right?"
Surprisingly, Dazai hands him the bottle. It's the /new/ bottle he just bought,
the 'cum lube'.
He finds out /why/ it's called that when he pops the cap on it and pours a generous amount into Dazai's waiting palm.
It's thick, milky white and thick. It /smells/ artificial, like latex and rubber, but it looks almost exactly like cum. When Dazai spreads it
He finds out /why/ it's called that when he pops the cap on it and pours a generous amount into Dazai's waiting palm.
It's thick, milky white and thick. It /smells/ artificial, like latex and rubber, but it looks almost exactly like cum. When Dazai spreads it
over his fingers, it looks almost /exactly/ the same way it does when Chuuya comes in his hand.
Except more. A /lot/ more.
Still, the visual is shockingly hot. Lube itself doesn't do anything for Chuuya-- it's just part of the process. He likes it when it's flavored or smells
Except more. A /lot/ more.
Still, the visual is shockingly hot. Lube itself doesn't do anything for Chuuya-- it's just part of the process. He likes it when it's flavored or smells
nice, but he's never liked /lube/ for itself. It's always been about how good Dazai makes him feel with it, the knowledge that something /more/ is coming.
Now though--
Now it doesn't look like /lube/ that Dazai spreads across his thighs as he reaches between his legs. It looks
Now though--
Now it doesn't look like /lube/ that Dazai spreads across his thighs as he reaches between his legs. It looks
like cum, /his/ cum,marking him up in the most primitive way there is. Like the way he likes to cum on Chuuya's face, the way he likes to come /inside/ him, fill him up until he can't take anymore.
It's easy to pretend, and it makes Chuuya's stomach clench when his fingers brush
It's easy to pretend, and it makes Chuuya's stomach clench when his fingers brush
against the underside of his ass. In this position, he has to lift one of his legs to give Dazai enough room to worth with, but it /also/ means he gets to feel his wrist work and flex underneath him as he hooks one finger in his underwear and tugs it to the side.
Chuuya isn't
Chuuya isn't
exactly surprised, because he /expected/ to be fingered open or maybe even fucked while wearing the lingerie--
But it still feels /filthy/ to be fucked in clothes, any clothes. Like they can't get /enough/ of each other, like they're so frantic with want that they can't even
But it still feels /filthy/ to be fucked in clothes, any clothes. Like they can't get /enough/ of each other, like they're so frantic with want that they can't even
take the time to get their clothes off before /devouring/ each other.
And like this-- Chuuya dressed up in pretty lace and straps, collared and leashed in Dazai's lap, who is fully dressed in slacks and a silk button down with the sleeves rolled up--
They must make a /sinful/
And like this-- Chuuya dressed up in pretty lace and straps, collared and leashed in Dazai's lap, who is fully dressed in slacks and a silk button down with the sleeves rolled up--
They must make a /sinful/
picture. Chuuya almost wishes he had a /mirror/, or a camera, just so he could imprint this image in his mind forever. So he could revisit it again and again, admire them both from all angles.
Dazai's fingers, wet with lube, slide over his entrance. They fuck so often that it
Dazai's fingers, wet with lube, slide over his entrance. They fuck so often that it
feels achingly familiar to have him rubbing lube over him in long, indulgent strokes. Like something inside him was missing, and Dazai is offering him back that missing piece.
The leash gets tugged again, shocking Chuuya out of his breathless reverie. He's trembling,
The leash gets tugged again, shocking Chuuya out of his breathless reverie. He's trembling,
hips rocking down into Dazai's every push. He denies him every time though, retreating every time he gets /close/ to pushing inside.
"Kiss me, puppy," he murmurs, tugging him forward again. His eyes are devastatingly dark, lips wet and shiny in the low lighting. He looks almost
"Kiss me, puppy," he murmurs, tugging him forward again. His eyes are devastatingly dark, lips wet and shiny in the low lighting. He looks almost
like a shadow come to life, his darkest and sweetest dreams come to drag him into the darkness.
The pet name has Chuuya blushing instinctively, but the /command/ has him lurching forward near-immediately. The bottle of lube gets discarded, forgotten in the space between their
The pet name has Chuuya blushing instinctively, but the /command/ has him lurching forward near-immediately. The bottle of lube gets discarded, forgotten in the space between their
bodies and the arm of the chair,in favor of filling his hands with dark, wavy hair.
Pulling on the strands isn't as satisfying as pulling on a /leash/ would be, but he does it anyway. In one motion, he's forcibly tilting Dazai's head back for a better angle, and the /next/, he's
Pulling on the strands isn't as satisfying as pulling on a /leash/ would be, but he does it anyway. In one motion, he's forcibly tilting Dazai's head back for a better angle, and the /next/, he's
surging forward and claiming him in a kiss.
Hot, deep, filled with frenetic energy and tingling-electricity. His tongue plunging into Dazai's mouth, using his higher position and leverage to control the pace and depth of the kiss--
Then Dazai /smirks/, and in the next second,
Hot, deep, filled with frenetic energy and tingling-electricity. His tongue plunging into Dazai's mouth, using his higher position and leverage to control the pace and depth of the kiss--
Then Dazai /smirks/, and in the next second,
he's driving his finger inside him on one brutal slide. He gets to the second knuckle before Chuuya's body catches up with the sensation and instinctively clenches down in reaction.
He /almost/ breaks the kiss with a choked moan, but Dazai's pulling the leash tight, dragging him
He /almost/ breaks the kiss with a choked moan, but Dazai's pulling the leash tight, dragging him
close and not letting him move even so much as a centimeter away. His groan gets muffled into his mouth, swallowed up.
"Shh," Dazai murmurs back, pausing to suck on his bottom lip in the same rhythm that his finger is working deeper inside him. "Take it. You can do it; you
"Shh," Dazai murmurs back, pausing to suck on his bottom lip in the same rhythm that his finger is working deeper inside him. "Take it. You can do it; you
/always/ do it."
He /can/ do it, of course, but Dazai is usually more /gentle/ with him, at least in the beginning. Like he's testing Chuuya's limits each time, and only when he finds them does he begin to push past them slightly.
Now, it seems like he doesn't care for limits
He /can/ do it, of course, but Dazai is usually more /gentle/ with him, at least in the beginning. Like he's testing Chuuya's limits each time, and only when he finds them does he begin to push past them slightly.
Now, it seems like he doesn't care for limits
at /all/. Like he knows exactly how much he can take, knows exactly where his limits lie and pulling out his finger and replacing it with /two/, sinking into him with slow, relentless ferocity isn't /pushing/ him, it's just giving him what he /needs/. What he wants.
With the way
With the way
they're sitting and the angle of his wrist, almost every brutal thrust of his fingers grinds mercilessly against his prostate.
The near-constant stimulation, combined with the /stretch/ and his erection rubbing against the lace of his panties, and the way Dazai is /still/
The near-constant stimulation, combined with the /stretch/ and his erection rubbing against the lace of his panties, and the way Dazai is /still/
kissing him, swallowing his noises and pushing his tongue inside his mouth on a sensual slide, a counterpoint to where his fingers are /fucking/ him--
It's all making him climb to the edge, so quickly that he's dizzy with it. He's clinging onto Dazai's hair, fighting to ground
It's all making him climb to the edge, so quickly that he's dizzy with it. He's clinging onto Dazai's hair, fighting to ground
himself in the overload of sensations. He's panting into his mouth more than kissing him back, but its hard to /breathe/ when Dazai's fingers feel like they're forcing the air out of him and replacing it with searing-electric pleasure.
Of course, it doesn't help that Dazai
Of course, it doesn't help that Dazai
is still tugging on his leash every once in a while and tightening the collar around his throat. Not enough to /choke/ him, but enough that his breath stalls out for a moment. Enough to remind him how much power and control Dazai has over him, both physical and mental.
He /owns/
He /owns/
him, in a way that Chuuya revels in. He knows /exactly/ where to touch him, how to kiss him, what to say to him to get the reaction he wants. Knows what he wants without him having to /say/ it.
Logically, Chuuya knows that they still have a lot to learn about each other--
But
Logically, Chuuya knows that they still have a lot to learn about each other--
But
in moments like these, where he's full with his fingers, a wicked tongue in his mouth, unable and unwilling to move, strung out on Dazai's lap like he was /born/ to be here--
It's like none of that /matters/. The rest of the world fades away. It's just him and Dazai and his
It's like none of that /matters/. The rest of the world fades away. It's just him and Dazai and his
heart that's pounding so fast it feels like it might burst in his chest.
Dazai's ring finger curls, rubbing against his slick and stretched rim. He doesn't push in /yet/, just teases at hyper-sensitive nerves as his fingers still inside him, splayed open and forcing his inner
Dazai's ring finger curls, rubbing against his slick and stretched rim. He doesn't push in /yet/, just teases at hyper-sensitive nerves as his fingers still inside him, splayed open and forcing his inner
muscles to stretch to accommodate.
/Finally/, Dazai allows him to break the kiss. Chuuya can't /go/ anywhere with how hard his thighs are trembling and how hungry the pit in his stomach feels. He ends up slumping forward even more, chin hooking over Dazai's shoulder.
The
/Finally/, Dazai allows him to break the kiss. Chuuya can't /go/ anywhere with how hard his thighs are trembling and how hungry the pit in his stomach feels. He ends up slumping forward even more, chin hooking over Dazai's shoulder.
The
position forces him to arch his back, pushing back into Dazai's hand. Knuckles catch on his rim, just on the /verge/ of too rough. Just enough that he clenches up in response, a bitten-off moan escaping him.
"Yeah?" Dazai breathes in response, teasing. His cheek is pressed
"Yeah?" Dazai breathes in response, teasing. His cheek is pressed
against his temple, the perfect position for his breath to curl around Chuuya's ear. His breath is hot, humid. "You /like/ that, don't you?"
It's not so much a /question/ as it is teasing, because obviously Chuuya likes it. Loves it, even. There's still only two fingers inside
It's not so much a /question/ as it is teasing, because obviously Chuuya likes it. Loves it, even. There's still only two fingers inside
him, with a third teasing at his rim, and he's still achingly hard. Trapped in the lace underwear, which is starting to grow painfully tight, and pressing intermittently against Dazai's clothed stomach, jostled forward every time his fingers thrust inside him.
"I--," he starts,
"I--," he starts,
choking himself with a sharp inhale when the fingers inside him curl /inwards/, finding his prostate and pressing /in/, applying constant and direct pressure. It's enough to have his breath catching in his lungs and the trembling in his thighs increasingly sharply. "I--."
He
He
can't seem to get /anything/ out because as soon as he opens his mouth to speak, Dazai is moving again. Grinding his fingers in or spreading them wide, or pulling them back just to /slam/ forward again, over and over and over again in a rotating, senseless pattern until Chuuya
feel like he's going to shake apart in his arms.
"What's wrong, baby? Don't you want to talk to me?" Dazai murmurs, blowing a breath directly into his ear. His voice is teasing, smug and satisfying. He knows /exactly/ what he's doing to him and he's reveling in it.
Frustrated,
"What's wrong, baby? Don't you want to talk to me?" Dazai murmurs, blowing a breath directly into his ear. His voice is teasing, smug and satisfying. He knows /exactly/ what he's doing to him and he's reveling in it.
Frustrated,
and strung out with the teasing, Chuuya moves his head down and sinks his teeth into his shoulder. It's not /hard/, considering he's biting through the shirt and he doesn't want to make Dazai /mad/, he just--
He /wants/ more, and Dazai is being /mean/ to him. He's making it
He /wants/ more, and Dazai is being /mean/ to him. He's making it
/hard/ for him, on purpose. He's enjoying stringing Chuuya along, like he always does,but now it's /worse/.
There's a sharp hiss of breath near his ear, then the leash is tightening so quickly that he nearly chokes at the pressure of the collar around his throat. He's physically
There's a sharp hiss of breath near his ear, then the leash is tightening so quickly that he nearly chokes at the pressure of the collar around his throat. He's physically
dragged off him, pulled backwards until his hand flies backward on instinct to brace himself on Dazai's knee to make sure he doesn't fall off his lap entirely.
"Is that /any/ way to ask for what you want?" Dazai reprimands, fingers stilling inside him as a form of punishment.
"Is that /any/ way to ask for what you want?" Dazai reprimands, fingers stilling inside him as a form of punishment.
Chuuya opens his eyes, frustration and want boiling inside him in equal measures. He's /so/ close to what he wants, it's /maddening/. A third finger teasing at dipping inside him, the bulge of Dazai's erection underneath him.
He's /been/ good, he's been pretty and pliant, and
He's /been/ good, he's been pretty and pliant, and
he got all dressed up. He wants his /reward/. Wants to be fucked into /oblivion/ like Dazai promised.
He opens his mouth, but Dazai tugs on the leash again, unbalancing him enough that he lets out a startled yelp. His other hand flies back, grabbing Dazai's other knee just in
He opens his mouth, but Dazai tugs on the leash again, unbalancing him enough that he lets out a startled yelp. His other hand flies back, grabbing Dazai's other knee just in
case. It's not like he believes Dazai would let him fall, but he can't help the way his instincts flare and his stomach drops when he wobbles.
"I think I changed my mind," Dazai muses. He's leaned back in the chair, relaxed, looking for all the world like a king on his throne.
"I think I changed my mind," Dazai muses. He's leaned back in the chair, relaxed, looking for all the world like a king on his throne.
Like he's unaffected by this whole thing, like having Chuuya dressed up in lingerie and being knuckle deep inside him is just where he's /meant/ to be. Like this is just what he's /owed/.
Of course, the casual smirk on his face and relaxed posture is contradicted by the feel
Of course, the casual smirk on his face and relaxed posture is contradicted by the feel
of how /hard/ he is, practically throbbing against his zipper.
"I think I want you to be /quiet/ right now, baby. You aren't being very /nice/, and I want to give you what you want. And you want it /so/ bad, don't you?"
In the next moment, his fingers are retreating. They
"I think I want you to be /quiet/ right now, baby. You aren't being very /nice/, and I want to give you what you want. And you want it /so/ bad, don't you?"
In the next moment, his fingers are retreating. They
return quickly, this time all three clustered together and pushing inside.
A heated, burnt-caramel gaze watches his expression carefully as his fingers sink into him slowly and relentlessly. Every gasp, every flutter of his eyelashes, every twitch and tremble gets carefully
A heated, burnt-caramel gaze watches his expression carefully as his fingers sink into him slowly and relentlessly. Every gasp, every flutter of his eyelashes, every twitch and tremble gets carefully
observed. His face feels on fire, and Chuuya can't tell it that's from the stimulation or from the way Dazai is /looking/ at him, like a delicious meal being prepared right in front of him, like he's starving and about to /devour/ him.
His fingers press in to the knuckle on one,
His fingers press in to the knuckle on one,
deliciously long slide. It's slow enough that his body has time to adjust, but he doesn't stop. Not until he's buried in as deeply as his fingers will go.
The heel of his palm presses against his balls, almost-painfully. It makes his trapped erection jerk, releasing another drop
The heel of his palm presses against his balls, almost-painfully. It makes his trapped erection jerk, releasing another drop
of pre-cum into the lace. A wet spot is rapidly forming, something that /should/ be embarrassing, but Chuuya isn't even thinking about that.
He's only thinking about how it feels to /finally/ have three long, thick fingers buried inside him. What it feels like as they flex and
He's only thinking about how it feels to /finally/ have three long, thick fingers buried inside him. What it feels like as they flex and
curl inside him, finding his most sensitive spots and pressing against them relentlessly.
What it feels like to be one step closer to having what he /really/ wants inside him. His body is eager for it, muscles practically melting around Dazai's every push, bending so easily to
What it feels like to be one step closer to having what he /really/ wants inside him. His body is eager for it, muscles practically melting around Dazai's every push, bending so easily to
his will. Taking what's given to him easily and silently begging for more.
"You take me so /well/," Dazai murmurs, fingers flexing. His grip on the leash loosens, giving himself enough room to drop down to his chest. His fingers find his nipple through the lace, pinching it with
"You take me so /well/," Dazai murmurs, fingers flexing. His grip on the leash loosens, giving himself enough room to drop down to his chest. His fingers find his nipple through the lace, pinching it with
almost cruel intensity. His nail digs in, until Chuuya is wavering somewhere between pleasure and pain. The texture of the lace just adds /more/ sensation on top of that. "It's like you were /made/ for me, little doll."
With the way he's purring those words, Chuuya can't help
With the way he's purring those words, Chuuya can't help
but agree. There's a /pull/ between them, like they're meant for each other. Like he was /born/ to be here, shaped perfectly to take everything of Dazai, like he was meant to be in his lap and in his arms.
He arches, grinding down onto his hand and into the fingers pinching at
He arches, grinding down onto his hand and into the fingers pinching at
his nipple. "Yes," he gasps, agreement or beg for more, he doesn't know.
It doesn't seem to matter anyways, because his voice is earning him another twist of his nipple and the fingers inside him spreading wide. His fingertips slide over his prostate, bracketing the very edges
It doesn't seem to matter anyways, because his voice is earning him another twist of his nipple and the fingers inside him spreading wide. His fingertips slide over his prostate, bracketing the very edges
of it and teasing him with direct stimulation.
"Oh? You think you were made for me?" Dazai asks. His voice has slipped into something low and hypnotic, throbbing. It wraps around him, playing over his nerves like clever fingers.
When Chuuya nods breathlessly, the loose chain
"Oh? You think you were made for me?" Dazai asks. His voice has slipped into something low and hypnotic, throbbing. It wraps around him, playing over his nerves like clever fingers.
When Chuuya nods breathlessly, the loose chain
slides over his chest. It's still slightly cool, barely starting to warm up to skin temperature. The coolness in contradiction to how /hot/ his body feels make him shiver in response.
"Made for my hands? My fingers?"
At the same time his fingers twist again inside him, the
"Made for my hands? My fingers?"
At the same time his fingers twist again inside him, the
hand on his chest slides to the other side. Fingers tug the lingerie down just enough to expose his nipple.
When he rolls it between two fingers, it's without the lace barrier. It's pure, electric sensation, pushed into him with sharp nails and rough fingertips. It's carelessly
When he rolls it between two fingers, it's without the lace barrier. It's pure, electric sensation, pushed into him with sharp nails and rough fingertips. It's carelessly
good, like Dazai doesn't /care/ if he's being rough with him.
"Made for my /cock/?"
/God/, whenever Dazai curses, filthy words dripping from his lips like divine sin, it's almost as good as being touched. Like the rumbling of his voice is translated directly into subtle
"Made for my /cock/?"
/God/, whenever Dazai curses, filthy words dripping from his lips like divine sin, it's almost as good as being touched. Like the rumbling of his voice is translated directly into subtle
vibrations along every one of his nerve endings.
He keens, his only answer as Dazai's fingers begin to slide out slowly. He keeps them splayed, stretching his rim to it's limits and sparking painful-pleasurable zings of electricity up his spine and down his thighs.
"I think so
He keens, his only answer as Dazai's fingers begin to slide out slowly. He keeps them splayed, stretching his rim to it's limits and sparking painful-pleasurable zings of electricity up his spine and down his thighs.
"I think so
too, lovely," Dazai agrees, once again tightening his grip on the leash so Chuuya doesn't jerk or move as his fingers slide out the the last knuckle. "Let's prove it, shall we?"
/How/? How is Chuuya supposed to do /that/? He can't think, can barely /breathe/ past the feeling of
/How/? How is Chuuya supposed to do /that/? He can't think, can barely /breathe/ past the feeling of
Dazai all over him, under him, /in/ him--
With one last tug, his fingers are slipping out of him entirely, leaving him devastatingly empty. Dazai's voie doesn't have the right to sound as /sweet/ as it does as he says, "On the floor, baby. Hands and knees."
Slightly confused,
With one last tug, his fingers are slipping out of him entirely, leaving him devastatingly empty. Dazai's voie doesn't have the right to sound as /sweet/ as it does as he says, "On the floor, baby. Hands and knees."
Slightly confused,
Chuuya blinks at him. That's not what he was expecting at /all/. He was expecting to be dragged closer, to ride him in the chair. Being told to get /off/ him makes his foggy brain stall out.
When he doesn't move immediately, Dazai is flipping around his hand, making the leather
When he doesn't move immediately, Dazai is flipping around his hand, making the leather
strip at the end slap his thigh. It makes a sharp noise, more loud than painful. The sound itself is enough to startle Chuuya into action.
He's given enough slack to slide off his lap and onto the floor. His knees hit the floor first, harder than he intended. There's not enough
He's given enough slack to slide off his lap and onto the floor. His knees hit the floor first, harder than he intended. There's not enough
room at first, so he slides back slightly.
When his hands come down, he makes sure to arch his back temptingly, letting his ass sway in the air. The lube smeared over his ass and starting to drip down his thighs is cold when exposed to the air of the room.
"Good boy," Dazai
When his hands come down, he makes sure to arch his back temptingly, letting his ass sway in the air. The lube smeared over his ass and starting to drip down his thighs is cold when exposed to the air of the room.
"Good boy," Dazai
says, rolling to his feet. He's /huge/ from this angle,towering over him like a giant. Chuuya is level with his knees,the toes of his shoes stepping perilously close to his fingers.
"But I think I want you /lower/, sweetheart. You'd look /beautiful/ with your face on the floor."
"But I think I want you /lower/, sweetheart. You'd look /beautiful/ with your face on the floor."
Chuuya hesitates again, this time a moment too long.
When Dazai's foot comes up, he's instinctively leaning backwards to avoid it. The leash tightens immediately, taking away his escape route.
All he can do is watch--and safeword, if he wants, he knows that's an option, but he
When Dazai's foot comes up, he's instinctively leaning backwards to avoid it. The leash tightens immediately, taking away his escape route.
All he can do is watch--and safeword, if he wants, he knows that's an option, but he
doesn't /want/ to-- as the toe of his shoe finds his shoulder and begins to press /down/.
"Down, boy," Dazai commands, searing. The inherent degradation of being talked to like /that/,like he's some sort of trained beast, like he exists to take orders--
It has his face flushing
"Down, boy," Dazai commands, searing. The inherent degradation of being talked to like /that/,like he's some sort of trained beast, like he exists to take orders--
It has his face flushing
in embarrassment and shame. His arms buckle underneath the weight,his face turning so his cheek presses against the cool wood of the floor.
Once he's in position, the shoe lifts off him. The leash loosens again, and Dazai moves around the side of him. Like he's taking a /stroll/
Once he's in position, the shoe lifts off him. The leash loosens again, and Dazai moves around the side of him. Like he's taking a /stroll/
and admiring the view.
And Chuuya does have to admit--
This /does/ feel raw. Animalistic. Face down and ass-up on the floor, like he doesn't even get a /bed/. He's collared and leashed, being talked to like a dumb, cute animal, being told he's a /good boy/--
The /feralness/ of
And Chuuya does have to admit--
This /does/ feel raw. Animalistic. Face down and ass-up on the floor, like he doesn't even get a /bed/. He's collared and leashed, being talked to like a dumb, cute animal, being told he's a /good boy/--
The /feralness/ of
it all, like their human civility has been stripped away and all that's left is pure animal instinct, the throbbing need to fight and /breed/ and bite, has Chuuya's head turning foggy. His back falls even lower on instinct, presenting his ass even /better/, in the hopes that
Dazai will /hurry/.
He wants it. He needs it. He's /ready/ for it.
There's a rustle of clothing as Dazai kneels behind him. He's warm, radiating heat even though he hasn't undressed at all.
A hand finds his ass,palming over soft skin and lacy underwear. He squeezes one cheek,
He wants it. He needs it. He's /ready/ for it.
There's a rustle of clothing as Dazai kneels behind him. He's warm, radiating heat even though he hasn't undressed at all.
A hand finds his ass,palming over soft skin and lacy underwear. He squeezes one cheek,
hand large enough that he can take nearly the entire thing in his hand.
With his movement, the back of his underwear had slid back into place. Chuuya shudders when a finger hooks around the strap and moves it aside again, just enough to give Dazai access.
Behind him, there's
With his movement, the back of his underwear had slid back into place. Chuuya shudders when a finger hooks around the strap and moves it aside again, just enough to give Dazai access.
Behind him, there's
another rustle,the achingly familiar sound of a zipper slowly being tugged down.
"Made to take my cock, hm?" Dazai says, almost to himself. Another shuffle, and his cock presses against Chuuya's ass. It's hot, hard, /huge/, and Chuuya is nearly /drooling/ for it. It's so /close/
"Made to take my cock, hm?" Dazai says, almost to himself. Another shuffle, and his cock presses against Chuuya's ass. It's hot, hard, /huge/, and Chuuya is nearly /drooling/ for it. It's so /close/
to where he wants it, only a few inches away.
"Let's find out."
Then the head of Dazai's cock is pressing against his entrance, pushing inside.
Three fingers is not /exactly/ enough. Really, he needs four and without that--
The stretch is /obscene/. Dazai must've slicked up
"Let's find out."
Then the head of Dazai's cock is pressing against his entrance, pushing inside.
Three fingers is not /exactly/ enough. Really, he needs four and without that--
The stretch is /obscene/. Dazai must've slicked up
his cock at some point, because there's absolutely no friction. Just a relentless, deep pleasant burning sensation as Dazai buries himself deeper,centimeter by centimeter.
It's not like Chuuya can forget, but it's times and positions like this that remind him how /big/ Dazai is.
It's not like Chuuya can forget, but it's times and positions like this that remind him how /big/ Dazai is.
Every inch of him feels alive, pulsing with heat and carving out a space for himself in Chuuya's body. He's half-convinced he can't even /take/ it, because it feels like he can't even take a /breath/ without feeling Dazai burning a hot line of satisfaction into his body--
But he
But he
/can/ take it. He was /made/ to take it, like Dazai said.
By the time Dazai's hips meet his ass, cock buried to the base inside him, Chuuya feels mindless with it. There's incredible pressure, everywhere. The floor is hard beneath him, cool against his cheek, and he swears he
By the time Dazai's hips meet his ass, cock buried to the base inside him, Chuuya feels mindless with it. There's incredible pressure, everywhere. The floor is hard beneath him, cool against his cheek, and he swears he
can feel Dazai in his /throat/. He swears he can feel him /pulsing/ inside him, sliding against his prostate on his way in.
One of Dazai's hands, the one with the leash still wrapped around it, comes to brace himself on Chuuya's shoulder. The weight makes him crumble underneath
One of Dazai's hands, the one with the leash still wrapped around it, comes to brace himself on Chuuya's shoulder. The weight makes him crumble underneath
further, thighs spreading and spine falling.
There's not an ounce of resistance left inside him. No more bratty attitude, no rebellion, no frustration, nothing. Just pure, pleasurable acceptance, giving everything he is up to Dazai.
He doesn't need to /think/, he just needs to
There's not an ounce of resistance left inside him. No more bratty attitude, no rebellion, no frustration, nothing. Just pure, pleasurable acceptance, giving everything he is up to Dazai.
He doesn't need to /think/, he just needs to
feel. And all he can feel is pressure and pleasure and heat and electricity and--
"You're right, baby," Dazai groans, hips rocking forward like he's trying to get even /deeper/ inside him. "You /were/ made for me. Feel so good around me, hot and wet and /perfect/ for me."
The
"You're right, baby," Dazai groans, hips rocking forward like he's trying to get even /deeper/ inside him. "You /were/ made for me. Feel so good around me, hot and wet and /perfect/ for me."
The
words make Chuuya shiver, breath catching in his throat. Praise from Dazai feels like it settles in his chest, a warm glow like sunlight filling every empty spot inside him. Like every speck of anxiety or insecurity is being replaced, slowly but surely.
His body contracts on the
His body contracts on the
resulting rush of pleasure, tightening up until he's pulling another pleased hiss from Dazai.
He's barely given a few moments to adjust before Dazai is pulling out and starting up a rhythm. It's slow at first, rocks of his hips that send shards of pleasure spiraling through
He's barely given a few moments to adjust before Dazai is pulling out and starting up a rhythm. It's slow at first, rocks of his hips that send shards of pleasure spiraling through
him.
Each thrust pulls back a little farther, slams back in a little /harder/. Chuuya's fingers claw at the floor,fighting to ground himself, fighting for /anything/ to hang on to as Dazai fucks him harder, faster, /better/--
He can hear Dazai groaning and muttering to himself
Each thrust pulls back a little farther, slams back in a little /harder/. Chuuya's fingers claw at the floor,fighting to ground himself, fighting for /anything/ to hang on to as Dazai fucks him harder, faster, /better/--
He can hear Dazai groaning and muttering to himself
above him, like he's so far gone he can't control himself or what he says anymore. The rough, low growls send another round of arousal thrilling up Chuuya's spine, spilling into his lungs like smoke and making him dizzy with it.
It's /good/, so good Chuuya feels like he's
It's /good/, so good Chuuya feels like he's
free-falling, spiraling endlessly deeper into a liquid-burning pool of pleasure. Every /slam/ of Dazai's hips against him makes him hammer into his prostate mercilessly before sliding past, burying himself to the base. The burning stretch has faded away, leaving only a pleasant
fullness that he can't escape from.
It doesn't hurt, it's not too /much/, it's exactly what he needs.
There's only one problem:
As /ecstatic/ as being fucked like this is, face down on the floor like an animal--
It's starting to /hurt/.
The floor is unforgiving on his
It doesn't hurt, it's not too /much/, it's exactly what he needs.
There's only one problem:
As /ecstatic/ as being fucked like this is, face down on the floor like an animal--
It's starting to /hurt/.
The floor is unforgiving on his
knees, digging into the joint painfully. With how ruthlessly Dazai is fucking him, his knees slip forward and back a few centimeters on every thrust, giving him the beginnings of friction burn.
To keep him from moving too much, Dazai is pinning him roughly by bracing his weight
To keep him from moving too much, Dazai is pinning him roughly by bracing his weight
over his shoulders, dragging him back into every slam of his hips. The man is /heavy/, pushing on Chuuya's neck until it's forced to bend almost too far.
He tries to relax into it, let the pleasure override the discomfort. Tries adjusting his position slightly, shuffling his
He tries to relax into it, let the pleasure override the discomfort. Tries adjusting his position slightly, shuffling his
knees forward. He pushes up with his arms, taking the weight off his back but he can't hold it for long enough, and he keeps losing his balance.
It /hurts/ and not in a good way. In a way that's slowly starting to ruin the pleasure, in a way that he has to /endure/. He doesn't
It /hurts/ and not in a good way. In a way that's slowly starting to ruin the pleasure, in a way that he has to /endure/. He doesn't
want to /stop/ but--
He can't continue like /this/. They need to change positions, or Dazai needs to stop /crushing/ him, or /something/.
It takes some concentration to gather enough breath, trying to stifle his moans long enough to speak. He licks his lips, gasping out, "Red."
He can't continue like /this/. They need to change positions, or Dazai needs to stop /crushing/ him, or /something/.
It takes some concentration to gather enough breath, trying to stifle his moans long enough to speak. He licks his lips, gasping out, "Red."
It's the first time he's ever stopped their sex for any reason, and there /is/ a slight sense of shame and embarrassment in that, like he's wimping out--
But the way Dazai stops near-instantly, stilling completely and drawing back, soothes that sense of inadequacy. Plus, the way
But the way Dazai stops near-instantly, stilling completely and drawing back, soothes that sense of inadequacy. Plus, the way
his weight leaves him and the pressure disappears to allow him to take an easy, unobstructed breath, is nothing short of relieving.
"What happened?" Dazai asks, the breathlessness of exertion still in his tone, accentuated by /concern/. "Are you alright?"
Chuuya groans softly,
"What happened?" Dazai asks, the breathlessness of exertion still in his tone, accentuated by /concern/. "Are you alright?"
Chuuya groans softly,
rising to his elbows and stretching out his neck. It's only a little sore,nothing that will linger. "I'm fine," he mutters, "but you were crushing me. And my knees hurt."
It feels kind of ridiculous to be complaining of joint pain to someone who is almost twice his age, but here
It feels kind of ridiculous to be complaining of joint pain to someone who is almost twice his age, but here
he is. His knees have always been a bit achy compared to most people his age.
"Oh," Dazai says, sounding immensely relieved. He begins the process of pulling out slowly, hands relocating to his hips to keep him in place. It also takes some weight off his knees. "Is that it?"
"Oh," Dazai says, sounding immensely relieved. He begins the process of pulling out slowly, hands relocating to his hips to keep him in place. It also takes some weight off his knees. "Is that it?"
"Yeah," Chuuya responds, shivering when Dazai slides out of him completely. It leaves him feeling empty and hollowed out. The rampaging arousal inside of him has lessened but it's not /satisfied/.
There's a rustling behind him as Dazai climbs to his feet-- accentuated by the
There's a rustling behind him as Dazai climbs to his feet-- accentuated by the
crack and pop of his own knees, which makes Chuuya huff in amusement-- and then arms are wrapping around his waist and picking him up effortlessly. "Let's move this to the bed then."
It's only a few steps to the bed, where Dazai sets him on his back. His hands are gentle as they
It's only a few steps to the bed, where Dazai sets him on his back. His hands are gentle as they
sweep down his hips and thighs. He supports the weight of his leg as Chuuya stretches out his lower legs, flexing his knees and ankles until all the lingering pain has vanished.
It wasn't so much the /position/ that made it hurt, but the fact that he was kneeling on something
It wasn't so much the /position/ that made it hurt, but the fact that he was kneeling on something
hard and unforgiving. He can keep /going/, if Dazai wants to keep fucking him doggy-style.
"Better?" Dazai murmurs, and the image he makes-- fully dressed but with all his clothes askew, cock out and still rock hard and glistening with lube, hair wild-- is so contrasted with how
"Better?" Dazai murmurs, and the image he makes-- fully dressed but with all his clothes askew, cock out and still rock hard and glistening with lube, hair wild-- is so contrasted with how
concerned and caring he sounds that it almost makes Chuuya laugh.
He nods, taking advantage of their positioning to hook his ankle behind Dazai's thigh and tug him closer. The move makes Dazai stumble closer, arms flying out to either side to catch his weight.
"Do you need a
He nods, taking advantage of their positioning to hook his ankle behind Dazai's thigh and tug him closer. The move makes Dazai stumble closer, arms flying out to either side to catch his weight.
"Do you need a
break?" He asks, a small smirk curving his lips. He's leaning over him, blocking out the light. Blocking out the rest of the world. "Or do you want to keep going?"
Instead of responding verbally, Chuuya flashes him a teasing grin and flips over onto his belly. He wiggles up onto
Instead of responding verbally, Chuuya flashes him a teasing grin and flips over onto his belly. He wiggles up onto
his knees, smiling to himself when Dazai automatically moves to give him enough room.
The softness of the bed is /perfect/, cradling his knees and head as he stretches out, face down and ass up, perfect for the taking.
There's a sharp inhale behind him. A hand finds his ass,
The softness of the bed is /perfect/, cradling his knees and head as he stretches out, face down and ass up, perfect for the taking.
There's a sharp inhale behind him. A hand finds his ass,
palming one cheek, long fingers digging in to give an indulgent squeeze.
Chuuya holds his breath, anticipation boiling up inside him as he waits for Dazai to fuck back inside him--
"I have a different idea," Dazai says suddenly, the hand on his ass giving him a light spank.
Chuuya holds his breath, anticipation boiling up inside him as he waits for Dazai to fuck back inside him--
"I have a different idea," Dazai says suddenly, the hand on his ass giving him a light spank.
"Move up."
Chuuya crawls forward, moving to the middle of the bed. There's a dip in the mattress behind him as Dazai climbs onto the bed after him.
Instead of following Chuuya or moving him at all, Dazai stretches out lengthwise along the bed. His back gets propped up against
Chuuya crawls forward, moving to the middle of the bed. There's a dip in the mattress behind him as Dazai climbs onto the bed after him.
Instead of following Chuuya or moving him at all, Dazai stretches out lengthwise along the bed. His back gets propped up against
the headrest, cushioned by a few pillows. With swift fingers, he unbuttons his shirt to expose the length of his torso, and shoves his pants down a little farther.
Chuuya watches him over his shoulder, wondering what the hell he's planning.
When he's ready, Dazai reaches out
Chuuya watches him over his shoulder, wondering what the hell he's planning.
When he's ready, Dazai reaches out
and wraps his fingers around his ankle, tugging gently. "Come here, sweetheart. You're gonna ride me."
Oh. Yes, Chuuya /likes/ that idea. That's probably one of his favorite positions so far. Granted, that might be because he's only ridden him /once/ and that time was /beyond/
Oh. Yes, Chuuya /likes/ that idea. That's probably one of his favorite positions so far. Granted, that might be because he's only ridden him /once/ and that time was /beyond/
good.
Eager, he crawls over and goes to throw his leg over Dazai's hips--
A hand on his knee stops him. He looks up, confused.
Dazai has an impish grin on his face. "Not like that," he says, gently guiding Chuuya into the position he wants. "Like this."
Chuuya goes easily,
Eager, he crawls over and goes to throw his leg over Dazai's hips--
A hand on his knee stops him. He looks up, confused.
Dazai has an impish grin on his face. "Not like that," he says, gently guiding Chuuya into the position he wants. "Like this."
Chuuya goes easily,
following the subtle pushes of his hands as he guides him into turning around and then throwing his leg over him.
When Chuuya settles down, thighs spread wide to fit Dazai in between, he's straddling him--
But /backwards/, facing his feet. Chuuya didn't even know it was
When Chuuya settles down, thighs spread wide to fit Dazai in between, he's straddling him--
But /backwards/, facing his feet. Chuuya didn't even know it was
/possible/ to ride someone like this, and the idea of it is a little daunting. Plus, the idea of his ass in Dazai's face as he rides him feels /exposed/.
He doesn't know why. Dazai has seen his ass in plenty of positions, and he's /always/ liked the sight of it.
Luckily,
He doesn't know why. Dazai has seen his ass in plenty of positions, and he's /always/ liked the sight of it.
Luckily,
Dazai seems to sense his hesitation, and smoothly takes control of the situation. "Sit up, baby. I want to /watch/."
A hand under his ass encourages him to lift up, giving Dazai enough room to reach underneath him and grip the base of his cock. He lines himself up, pressing the
A hand under his ass encourages him to lift up, giving Dazai enough room to reach underneath him and grip the base of his cock. He lines himself up, pressing the
head against his rim and holding it steady.
"Down, baby," he says, a gentler, more /sensual/ version of the command from earlier. His thumb is hooked in the back of his underwear, holding it out of the way.
Shuddering, Chuuya begins the slow sink downward. He feels /massive/ in
"Down, baby," he says, a gentler, more /sensual/ version of the command from earlier. His thumb is hooked in the back of his underwear, holding it out of the way.
Shuddering, Chuuya begins the slow sink downward. He feels /massive/ in
this position, but with all the prep and how he was already being fucked--
It's a long, smooth slide all the way down to the base, letting out a shuddering exhale of satisfaction when his ass comes to rest against his hips.
He stays there for a moment, reveling in the feeling
It's a long, smooth slide all the way down to the base, letting out a shuddering exhale of satisfaction when his ass comes to rest against his hips.
He stays there for a moment, reveling in the feeling
of being /full/, so full he feels /complete/, overflowing. The insides of his knees rub against against Dazai's slacks, the fabric slightly abrading against his skin.
One of Dazai's hand coasts over his hips and lower back, thumbing at sensitive skin and snapping the straps over
One of Dazai's hand coasts over his hips and lower back, thumbing at sensitive skin and snapping the straps over
his hips with his fingertips.
The sting makes Chuuya hiss, but the /slap/ of the leather strip on the end of the leash slapping his ass makes him yelp.
"Move," Dazai says. No, /orders/, and when Chuuya doesn't immediately start riding him, he spanks him with the leash leather
The sting makes Chuuya hiss, but the /slap/ of the leather strip on the end of the leash slapping his ass makes him yelp.
"Move," Dazai says. No, /orders/, and when Chuuya doesn't immediately start riding him, he spanks him with the leash leather
again. It doesn't /hurt/, not as much as his hand does--probably because he's using less force-- but it does leave stinging tingles behind, heat rushing to the surface.
He /likes/ it. Almost wants to just sit here and make Dazai spank him until he's satisfied, until his ass is a
He /likes/ it. Almost wants to just sit here and make Dazai spank him until he's satisfied, until his ass is a
series of stinging-hot marks, pretty and /red/, physical marks that Dazai has left on him.
But he /also/ wants the pleasure of being fucked. Being full is nice, but it just teases the bottomless well of unsatisfied arousal inside him. His cock has come back to full, aching
But he /also/ wants the pleasure of being fucked. Being full is nice, but it just teases the bottomless well of unsatisfied arousal inside him. His cock has come back to full, aching
life, still trapped in the lacey underwear.
Taking a deep breath, he rises up a little and sinks back down. Riding like this is more difficult than the other way around, because the solidness of Dazai's lower stomach against his ass makes it easy to lose his momentum.
It takes
Taking a deep breath, he rises up a little and sinks back down. Riding like this is more difficult than the other way around, because the solidness of Dazai's lower stomach against his ass makes it easy to lose his momentum.
It takes
a few tries for him to start to fall into a rhythm. He tries bracing himself on Dazai's thighs, but that angle misses his prostate. Straight up and down is good, but it's /hell/ on his thighs, and it's not something he can keep up for long.
When he sinks back down and the head
When he sinks back down and the head
of his cock just /barely/ misses his prostate, Chuuya can't help but make a frustrated noise. He's /so/ close to rapture he can almost /taste/ it, and he just feels like he's teasing /himself/ now.
His only warning is a metallic rustle of the chain before his leash tightens
His only warning is a metallic rustle of the chain before his leash tightens
/hard/. He gets yanked backwards with a yelp, hands flying back to catch himself.
"Struggling, baby?" Dazai asks, sounding so /damn/ smug it almost makes Chuuya mad.
Almost. Because he's discovering that this angle, slightly leaned back and braced on Dazai's chest, is the
"Struggling, baby?" Dazai asks, sounding so /damn/ smug it almost makes Chuuya mad.
Almost. Because he's discovering that this angle, slightly leaned back and braced on Dazai's chest, is the
/right/ angle he needs. It makes Dazai's cock slide deliciously good inside him, adding pressure to his prostate. If he circles his hips just right, he can practically milk the pleasure out of himself.
"Let me help you with that," Dazai offers, a purr in his voice. His free hand
"Let me help you with that," Dazai offers, a purr in his voice. His free hand
finds his opposite hip, wrapping around it firmly.
His hips jerk up suddenly, bouncing Chuuya /up/. His hand pushes him at the same time, helping him to use the momentum to carry himself up to the top. He hovers there for a moment, the ridge of his cock holding him inside--
His hips jerk up suddenly, bouncing Chuuya /up/. His hand pushes him at the same time, helping him to use the momentum to carry himself up to the top. He hovers there for a moment, the ridge of his cock holding him inside--
Then he's yanking him back down again, using the leash as leverage to make him crash back down. It has the full weight of his body behind it, and it pulls out a shocked noise out of him, mouth dropping open.
Before he can adjust to the searing pleasure of /that/, Dazai is urging
Before he can adjust to the searing pleasure of /that/, Dazai is urging
him back up again.
Thighs trembling, he chases the rhythm. Every bounce up is thick with anticipation, every drop down feels like heaven. The exertion in his thighs is nothing compared to the tension as it /finally/ begins to tighten in his stomach, spurred on by every ounce of
Thighs trembling, he chases the rhythm. Every bounce up is thick with anticipation, every drop down feels like heaven. The exertion in his thighs is nothing compared to the tension as it /finally/ begins to tighten in his stomach, spurred on by every ounce of
pleasure beginning to pump through his veins.
Every so often, Dazai will yank on the leash on the downstroke, making him crash back down hard. And when he smacks the leather against his ass hard enough to pull out a sharp /smack/ and a resulting load moan--
He starts to mix
Every so often, Dazai will yank on the leash on the downstroke, making him crash back down hard. And when he smacks the leather against his ass hard enough to pull out a sharp /smack/ and a resulting load moan--
He starts to mix
them up, alternating between pulling on his leash like he's being /bad/ and spanking him with it until Chuuya can /feel/ the marks start to form on delicate skin.
It's hot, so hot, pleasure and stinging pain melting together, pushing him to the boiling point. Sweat drips down
It's hot, so hot, pleasure and stinging pain melting together, pushing him to the boiling point. Sweat drips down
his face, makes his body even more slick. He picks up the pace somehow, the coil in his stomach urging him on faster, harder, /more/.
He bounces frantically, switching to short, desperate thrusts on the first few inches of Dazai's cock. It applies direct, constant pressure on
He bounces frantically, switching to short, desperate thrusts on the first few inches of Dazai's cock. It applies direct, constant pressure on
his prostate, sending white-hot pulses of ecstasy racing through him.
"/Fuck/," he whimpers on a particularly hard smack on his ass. The sting makes him lose his rhythm, stuttering to a halt. His thighs burn with exertion, and his every muscle aches.
There's a low noise behind
"/Fuck/," he whimpers on a particularly hard smack on his ass. The sting makes him lose his rhythm, stuttering to a halt. His thighs burn with exertion, and his every muscle aches.
There's a low noise behind
him, something that borders on a /snarl/--
A hand wraps around his throat from behind, pulling him back until his arm is buckling under the pressure and he's crashing back against Dazai's chest with a yelp.
Before he can catch his breath or do anything more than /blink/ in
A hand wraps around his throat from behind, pulling him back until his arm is buckling under the pressure and he's crashing back against Dazai's chest with a yelp.
Before he can catch his breath or do anything more than /blink/ in
surprise, Dazai's legs come up. His feet brace on the bed, knees bent and forcing Chuuya's thighs to spread wider.
The hand on his throat tips his chin back, the back of his head finding Dazai's shoulder. Even laying down, the height difference is so big that Dazai still has to
The hand on his throat tips his chin back, the back of his head finding Dazai's shoulder. Even laying down, the height difference is so big that Dazai still has to
bend his head forwards to reach him.
His teeth scrape over his ear first, followed by the hot rush of his breath. The briefest, teasing touch of his tongue that makes Chuuya's breath stall in his chest--
"Since you asked so /nicely/," Dazai whispers directly into his ear,
His teeth scrape over his ear first, followed by the hot rush of his breath. The briefest, teasing touch of his tongue that makes Chuuya's breath stall in his chest--
"Since you asked so /nicely/," Dazai whispers directly into his ear,
a pleased smirk in his voice. His hand tightens on his neck, tipping his head back so his mouth is as close to Dazai's ear as it can get--
In the next instant, Dazai is /fucking/ him. Hard,short, jackhammer slams of his hips that bury his cock deeply. He draws back just as fast,
In the next instant, Dazai is /fucking/ him. Hard,short, jackhammer slams of his hips that bury his cock deeply. He draws back just as fast,
only to slam back in with all of his strength, over and over and over again.
It's fast, /hard/, brutally and relentlessly good. It makes Chuuya choke on a wail, moans spilling out of him with increasing volume.
The louder /he/ gets, the more riled up Dazai seems to get. His
It's fast, /hard/, brutally and relentlessly good. It makes Chuuya choke on a wail, moans spilling out of him with increasing volume.
The louder /he/ gets, the more riled up Dazai seems to get. His
hand is unwavering on his throat, pressing the metal heart into his skin until he's sure there's going to be an imprint left behind. His other hand is sliding downwards, finding the back of his knee and pulling his leg upwards. He's /lucky/ he's so flexible, otherwise it might
hurt as Dazai pulls his knee all the way to his chest.
It opens him up wider, lets Dazai get in /deeper/, fuck him better,/harder/,pounding into his prostate with every savage thrust.
Chuuya bucks, unable to /handle/ it, driven out of his mind with sheer ecstatic electricity,
It opens him up wider, lets Dazai get in /deeper/, fuck him better,/harder/,pounding into his prostate with every savage thrust.
Chuuya bucks, unable to /handle/ it, driven out of his mind with sheer ecstatic electricity,
turned thoughtless. Pure sensation rockets through him, growing quickly,pressure coiling tightly in his stomach, so tight he can barely breathe around the soaring need.
He's /so/ close, getting closer with every thrust, clenching down instinctively as his orgasm begins to rise.
He's /so/ close, getting closer with every thrust, clenching down instinctively as his orgasm begins to rise.
"Fuck, fuck, /fuck/, oh god," he whines, eyes rolling back in his head. He's hanging onto Dazai's forearm with all his strength, digging his nails in as he fights to ground himself as he feels like he's being fucked /out/ of his body entirely, and into a whole new realm of
pleasure entirely.
"So /eloquent/," Dazai teases in his ear, breath coming hotter and faster. He's groaning into his ear, and every noise he utters is /delicious/. "Come on, Chuuya, sing for me."
And he /does/, letting the pitch and volume of his moans bounce with each thrust.
"So /eloquent/," Dazai teases in his ear, breath coming hotter and faster. He's groaning into his ear, and every noise he utters is /delicious/. "Come on, Chuuya, sing for me."
And he /does/, letting the pitch and volume of his moans bounce with each thrust.
The texture of the lace against his cock is /maddening/. He's twitching in his underwear, leaking with every brutal thrust. It's just enough to add an edge to the pleasure, slightly rough, one that makes him climb impossibly higher.
"God, /please/," he whimpers, "I-- /close/."
"God, /please/," he whimpers, "I-- /close/."
One of his hands is dropping down instinctually, finding the bulge of his erection trapped in his underwear and pressing his palm over it. For once, Dazai allows him without muttering even a word of protest. In fact, he's--
"Touch yourself, lovely," he rumbles in his ear, his
"Touch yourself, lovely," he rumbles in his ear, his
hips /somehow/ speeding up and changing into short, pointed thrusts directly aimed at the places that make Chuuya moan the loudest. "I want to see you cum for me."
The tension winds tighter and tighter, nearing it's breaking point. Nearing /his/ breaking point.
"Wanna see you
The tension winds tighter and tighter, nearing it's breaking point. Nearing /his/ breaking point.
"Wanna see you
get those pretty, pretty underwear /all/ dirty." His tongue slips out on the last syllable, tracing the shell of his ear. The metal ball of his piercing slides wetly over his skin, ticklish.
"Wanna see you /ruin/ them."
Chuuya /almost/ doesn't want to, because he /likes/ the
"Wanna see you /ruin/ them."
Chuuya /almost/ doesn't want to, because he /likes/ the
lingerie. Likes the way he feels in them, likes the way he /looks/ in them, likes the way Dazai seems to be /wild/ with him when he's wearing them--
A hard jerk of Dazai's hips upwards makes his palm press hard against his erection, hard enough that his vision goes white. One
A hard jerk of Dazai's hips upwards makes his palm press hard against his erection, hard enough that his vision goes white. One
more thrust, cockhead pounding into his prostate relentlessly and Chuuya is /gone/.
His orgasm overtakes him like a thundering wave, drenching him in sheer sensation. Pleasure pulses through him, pushed higher and higher with every thrust of Dazai's still-moving hips. It's /so/
His orgasm overtakes him like a thundering wave, drenching him in sheer sensation. Pleasure pulses through him, pushed higher and higher with every thrust of Dazai's still-moving hips. It's /so/
good, it feels like his body can't even handle it.
With the way he's being held-- hand around his throat locking his head into place, knee to his chest-- means he can't even /move/. He's forced to just lie there, shuddering, as Dazai drives his farther and farther. Tears are
With the way he's being held-- hand around his throat locking his head into place, knee to his chest-- means he can't even /move/. He's forced to just lie there, shuddering, as Dazai drives his farther and farther. Tears are
gathering at the corner of his eyes, spilling down his temples.
The lace underwear is hot and wet now, filled with sticky cum. The feeling makes him pant, eyes squeezing shut.
"Fuck, /Chuuya/," Dazai groans into his ear. He's resorted to short grinds inside him, unable to move
The lace underwear is hot and wet now, filled with sticky cum. The feeling makes him pant, eyes squeezing shut.
"Fuck, /Chuuya/," Dazai groans into his ear. He's resorted to short grinds inside him, unable to move
properly with how hard Chuuya is clenching down and rippling around him. He's throbbing inside him, practically pulsing, clearly on the edge of orgasm himself--
Breathless, Chuuya grinds /down/ to meet him, deliberately tightening as hard as he can, /needing/ Dazai to come with
Breathless, Chuuya grinds /down/ to meet him, deliberately tightening as hard as he can, /needing/ Dazai to come with
him. Wanting the primal satisfaction of being /full/ while he's still coming down.
With a guttural noise, Dazai presses up as far as he can and comes.
For a few long moments, there's just the ragged sound of their breathing. Dazai moves intermittently, milking himself through
With a guttural noise, Dazai presses up as far as he can and comes.
For a few long moments, there's just the ragged sound of their breathing. Dazai moves intermittently, milking himself through
his orgasm. His cum is searing hot and wet, slowly beginning to drip out of him every time he pulls back.
Eventually Dazai stills, buried inside him as he slowly begins to soften. The hand holding his knee lets go, finally letting his leg drop into a more comfortable position.
Eventually Dazai stills, buried inside him as he slowly begins to soften. The hand holding his knee lets go, finally letting his leg drop into a more comfortable position.
The hand on his throat lightens it’s grip, changing from a commanding, inescapable hold to light fingers stroking over the length of his neck.
After a moment,Dazai turns his head and presses a kiss to his cheek, long and lingering. His breath is still coming fast, washing coolly
After a moment,Dazai turns his head and presses a kiss to his cheek, long and lingering. His breath is still coming fast, washing coolly
over the sweat on his face.
Chuuya leans into him, accepting the comfort eagerly. He can already feel the trembles beginning to start in his limbs, the after effect of overstimulation. He feels wrung out, but in a /good/ way, every ounce of pleasure pulled out of him and leaving
Chuuya leans into him, accepting the comfort eagerly. He can already feel the trembles beginning to start in his limbs, the after effect of overstimulation. He feels wrung out, but in a /good/ way, every ounce of pleasure pulled out of him and leaving
him limp and satiated in the aftermath.
“Pretty boy,” Dazai croons to him, achingly gentle and sweet. The contrast being the /dominating/ Dazai and the /sweet/ Dazai is profound. It’s like he’s almost an entirely different person. “You did /so/ well, so pretty and perfect.”
“Pretty boy,” Dazai croons to him, achingly gentle and sweet. The contrast being the /dominating/ Dazai and the /sweet/ Dazai is profound. It’s like he’s almost an entirely different person. “You did /so/ well, so pretty and perfect.”
Shivering pleasantly, Chuuya curls closer. Dazai lets him tuck his head under his chin, nose finding his neck.
They’re gross and sweaty, and sticky. Chuuya’s pretty sure /both/ of their clothes are ruined by cum and lube.
But it’s also warm. Not just in a physical way, but in
They’re gross and sweaty, and sticky. Chuuya’s pretty sure /both/ of their clothes are ruined by cum and lube.
But it’s also warm. Not just in a physical way, but in
an internal way. One that fills up his chest with sun glow and firelight, making him feel light as air.
One that makes it impossible to fight back a fond smile as Dazai eventually urges him up as cleans him off. One that takes note of the achingly gentle way Dazai peels the
One that makes it impossible to fight back a fond smile as Dazai eventually urges him up as cleans him off. One that takes note of the achingly gentle way Dazai peels the
lingerie off him, and the careful way he unclips the leash.
One that feels like it /soars/ when Dazai brings him lunch on the balcony and the book he needs to read for class, so he can study and eat while soaking up the sun.
A warmth and gentle affection that feels like it
One that feels like it /soars/ when Dazai brings him lunch on the balcony and the book he needs to read for class, so he can study and eat while soaking up the sun.
A warmth and gentle affection that feels like it
found a matched pair in the softness hidden in Dazai’s touch and his expression.
(Love is a slow-growing thing. Like a flower, watered with trust and desire, bathed in attention like sunlight.
If you let it grow, it will grow fierce and wild—
But if one person cuts it short?
(Love is a slow-growing thing. Like a flower, watered with trust and desire, bathed in attention like sunlight.
If you let it grow, it will grow fierce and wild—
But if one person cuts it short?
One person will always be left with the rotting remains. It’s a wound that will fester for weeks, if allowed.
Chuuya would let it fester for /years/, if needed, because he’s never willing to let go.
Even if Dazai lets him go first.)
——— +
Chuuya would let it fester for /years/, if needed, because he’s never willing to let go.
Even if Dazai lets him go first.)
——— +
Admittedly, Chuuya has a /few/ flaws. He’s messy, too loud. Sometimes he forgets to turn all the lights off before going to sleep, because the light doesn’t bother him. He curses a lot, he’s too loyal, he angers too easily.
But the one /other/ people will say is his worst flaw
But the one /other/ people will say is his worst flaw
is that he absolutely refuses to ask for help, even when he needs it.
/Especially/ when he’s feeling under the weather. He’s gotten so used to hiding every ache and sore spot from his hypochondriac father that even /mentioning/ that he’s starting to feel bad feels out of the
/Especially/ when he’s feeling under the weather. He’s gotten so used to hiding every ache and sore spot from his hypochondriac father that even /mentioning/ that he’s starting to feel bad feels out of the
question. It doesn’t even cross his mind.
So when he wakes up with a sore throat two days after he returns to his dorm, he figures he’ll just drink some tea and some extra water today, and he’ll be fine.
It’s mid-September now, and the weather is starting to turn cold. He’s
So when he wakes up with a sore throat two days after he returns to his dorm, he figures he’ll just drink some tea and some extra water today, and he’ll be fine.
It’s mid-September now, and the weather is starting to turn cold. He’s
feeling the chill extra today, so he pulls on a thin jacket over his clothes and makes sure he has a hot cup of coffee in his hands at all times.
It’s been about a week since the /Shuuji incident/, as he likes to refer to it. He’s fallen only a little bit behind in his work, and
It’s been about a week since the /Shuuji incident/, as he likes to refer to it. He’s fallen only a little bit behind in his work, and
missed only two classes. Dazai drove him to the campus and back for his classes for the rest of the week, which was /nice/, but it was a burden. He could tell Dazai was getting busy with work again, and he didn’t want to add onto it.
Not that the man /wanted/ to let him go, and
Not that the man /wanted/ to let him go, and
the look he gave Chuuya when he mentioned going back to the dorm was that of a kicked puppy.
But Chuuya has /lots/ of work to catch up on. Midterms are coming up /quickly/, and if he’s going to stay on top of his class ranking then he needs to study, and study /hard/. There’s
But Chuuya has /lots/ of work to catch up on. Midterms are coming up /quickly/, and if he’s going to stay on top of his class ranking then he needs to study, and study /hard/. There’s
study groups at odd hours in the library, and tutoring sessions, and extra classes provided by his professors. Unfortunately it’s just more /convenient/ to stay at the dorm, even if the bed is hard and cold compared to the one at Dazai’s house.
He forgets to eat that day. He
He forgets to eat that day. He
doesn’t have an appetite to remind him, and he’s too busy catching up on all his work to remember. He just chugs coffee and water the entire day.
The next day when he wakes up, he feels even /worse/. Irritable, slightly sore all over, and there’s a headache slowly growing at his
The next day when he wakes up, he feels even /worse/. Irritable, slightly sore all over, and there’s a headache slowly growing at his
his temples. His throat is even worse today, scraped raw and stinging with every swallow.
Quite frankly, he feels like shit.
Worse than that is when he forces himself to eat a small muffin for breakfast, he throws it back up less than twenty minutes later. His stomach feels
Quite frankly, he feels like shit.
Worse than that is when he forces himself to eat a small muffin for breakfast, he throws it back up less than twenty minutes later. His stomach feels
hollow with hunger, but the thought of eating /anything/ or even drinking makes him feel nauseous.
It’s fine, he tells himself, pushing through the exhaustion. It’s Thursday today, which means he has an easy day, and then a full day of classes tomorrow. He just needs to push
It’s fine, he tells himself, pushing through the exhaustion. It’s Thursday today, which means he has an easy day, and then a full day of classes tomorrow. He just needs to push
through until the weekend, and then he can rest. He can’t afford to miss more classes so early on in the semester, and there’s a test in his last class tomorrow.
Thursday passes in a hazy blur, like he’s walking through fog. He barely remembers the lectures, but at least he
Thursday passes in a hazy blur, like he’s walking through fog. He barely remembers the lectures, but at least he
remembers to record the lesson.
The times that he isn’t in class or forcing himself to study, he spends sleeping.
It never feels like enough. Somehow he manages to wake up feeling more exhausted than he fell asleep.
He tries intermittently to eat something, but the nausea is
The times that he isn’t in class or forcing himself to study, he spends sleeping.
It never feels like enough. Somehow he manages to wake up feeling more exhausted than he fell asleep.
He tries intermittently to eat something, but the nausea is
relentless. Eventually he gives it up and tries to rest.
He wakes up twice in the middle of the night to throw up until he’s dry-heaving, stomach completely empty.
Nikolai isn’t around for some reason. Dazai has been texting him, but Chuuya is too tired to answer him.
Friday
He wakes up twice in the middle of the night to throw up until he’s dry-heaving, stomach completely empty.
Nikolai isn’t around for some reason. Dazai has been texting him, but Chuuya is too tired to answer him.
Friday
dawns cold and awful.
He feels like he got ran over by a /truck/, like he’s flattened underneath the misery of existing. He barely feels like he got any sleep, and even the smell of food is enough to have him wrenching.
Worse still is the /dizziness/. Every time he stands up
He feels like he got ran over by a /truck/, like he’s flattened underneath the misery of existing. He barely feels like he got any sleep, and even the smell of food is enough to have him wrenching.
Worse still is the /dizziness/. Every time he stands up
or moves, it feels like his body is disconnected from his mind. Like his head is three times too heavy, and he keeps wobbling and swaying.
By now, it’s been nearly 48 hours since he last ate anything of substance, not that he’s keeping track.
Stubborn, he pushes through his
By now, it’s been nearly 48 hours since he last ate anything of substance, not that he’s keeping track.
Stubborn, he pushes through his
first two classes. Those ones are easy, mostly reviewing material before the midterm.
He must look miserable enough that his professors shoot him concerned looks and let him half-doze slumped over his desk while his phone records everything they say.
Then the last class of the
He must look miserable enough that his professors shoot him concerned looks and let him half-doze slumped over his desk while his phone records everything they say.
Then the last class of the
day comes. This one is /important/, because he has a test. He tries to rouse some clarity in himself by pressing his hot forehead to the cool desk and taking deep breaths.
It’s no use though. When he gets the packet, the words keep blurring in front of his eyes. The questions
It’s no use though. When he gets the packet, the words keep blurring in front of his eyes. The questions
just don’t /compute/ with him, and he spends half the time scribbling down his best guess and the other half frantically trying to remember /anything/ from his studies.
It’s like his head is full of cotton and fluff,making him feel exhausted and woozy.
By the time he gets out
It’s like his head is full of cotton and fluff,making him feel exhausted and woozy.
By the time he gets out
he’s so goddamn frustrated and miserable that he’s immediately dialing Dazai’s number.
He is the type of person to get emotional over his classwork, but not like /this/. Usually he just gets /angry/ at himself, and more motivated. Pushing himself to study harder, do more extra
He is the type of person to get emotional over his classwork, but not like /this/. Usually he just gets /angry/ at himself, and more motivated. Pushing himself to study harder, do more extra
credit work, do whatever it took to get better grades.
It usually doesn’t have him damn near sobbing and fighting back the urge to hyperventilate— it’s so hard to /breathe/, it feels like his chest is full of gunk, blocking his airways, and the air never seems to be enough to
It usually doesn’t have him damn near sobbing and fighting back the urge to hyperventilate— it’s so hard to /breathe/, it feels like his chest is full of gunk, blocking his airways, and the air never seems to be enough to
make the dizziness go away— as he waits for Dazai to pick up.
He wants his boyfriend /so bad/. He’s miserable and by now he’s certain he’s sick, and he just wants his boyfriend.
Apparently he picked a good time to call because it only takes two rings before the line clicks.
He wants his boyfriend /so bad/. He’s miserable and by now he’s certain he’s sick, and he just wants his boyfriend.
Apparently he picked a good time to call because it only takes two rings before the line clicks.
“/Hello/, baby,” Dazai greets, voice warm and overflowing with affection, enough to make Chuuya tear up in emotional reaction. “How are you?”
Staggering out of the building, Chuuya presses a hand to his eye. The light outside hurts, makes the migraine feel like it’s shredding
Staggering out of the building, Chuuya presses a hand to his eye. The light outside hurts, makes the migraine feel like it’s shredding
pieces of his brain. “I—,” he sniffs, feeling so ridiculous but also like he’s breaking apart underneath all the /misery/ of the past three days. “I’m pretty sure I just failed my test.”
Something in Dazai’s voice changes immediately when he hears Chuuya’s tone. “Oh no, baby,
Something in Dazai’s voice changes immediately when he hears Chuuya’s tone. “Oh no, baby,
that sounds terrible— but I’m sure it’s not /that/ bad. You always study so hard and you’re /so/ smart. I’m sure you did better than you think you did.”
All the other students are giving him concerned looks, but Chuuya doesn’t seem them. His vision is locked on his feet because
All the other students are giving him concerned looks, but Chuuya doesn’t seem them. His vision is locked on his feet because
his vision is swimming. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the tears or the dizziness, but he’s fighting to keep himself upright and steady. “You don’t understand,” he mumbles, voice thick and breaking a few times, “I knew /nothing/ on that test.”
Not because he wasn’t prepared,
Not because he wasn’t prepared,
because he /was/, he was ready for the test, but because his /stupid brain/ wouldn’t function.
“It’ll be alright, Chuuya. Maybe you can talk to your professor about it and they’ll let you take a retake. You’re a good student, baby.”
There /is/ a retake system, but he doesn’t
“It’ll be alright, Chuuya. Maybe you can talk to your professor about it and they’ll let you take a retake. You’re a good student, baby.”
There /is/ a retake system, but he doesn’t
want to waste his /one/ retake chance on a test he /should’ve/ aced. He lets a single, miserable sniff be his answer.
It’s getting harder to breathe. Honestly, it feels more like he’s /running/ more than just stumbling across campus. He’s burning up with heat. Even the tears
It’s getting harder to breathe. Honestly, it feels more like he’s /running/ more than just stumbling across campus. He’s burning up with heat. Even the tears
on his face feel more like boiling water.
“Where are you? Are you okay? You sound...off.” Dazai’s wording is delicate but his tone is filled with concern. There’s some shuffling on the other side, like he’s getting up and getting ready.
And that, that question—
It’s enough
“Where are you? Are you okay? You sound...off.” Dazai’s wording is delicate but his tone is filled with concern. There’s some shuffling on the other side, like he’s getting up and getting ready.
And that, that question—
It’s enough
to have Chuuya /breaking/.
Because no, he’s /not/ alright, not even a little bit. He feels like he’s on the verge of /death/, he feels like a failure of a student, he’s emotional and needy and he wants to go /home/.
Not to the dorm. To /Dazai’s/ home, which honestly has started
Because no, he’s /not/ alright, not even a little bit. He feels like he’s on the verge of /death/, he feels like a failure of a student, he’s emotional and needy and he wants to go /home/.
Not to the dorm. To /Dazai’s/ home, which honestly has started
to feel more like his /real/ home than anything else.
“No, I’m /not/ okay, I’m—,” he starts, before making the mistake of taking a too big inhale.
That starts off a round of coughing, and each one makes the pressure in his head increase. Each sway of his body makes the
“No, I’m /not/ okay, I’m—,” he starts, before making the mistake of taking a too big inhale.
That starts off a round of coughing, and each one makes the pressure in his head increase. Each sway of his body makes the
dizziness worse, and when he /finally/ stops coughing, he’s—
“Chuuya?”
He realizes it with a distant clarity. He’s going to faint. He can’t stop it.
“Chuuya?!”
His vision goes black. His phone clatters to the floor, followed shortly by his unconscious body.
——— +
“Chuuya?”
He realizes it with a distant clarity. He’s going to faint. He can’t stop it.
“Chuuya?!”
His vision goes black. His phone clatters to the floor, followed shortly by his unconscious body.
——— +
Dazai is not used to feeling fear. He’s used to /inspiring/ fear in others. There was a time, when he was younger, when he watched grown men snivel and beg for mercy—
And he only thought it was all very /pathetic/.
He thinks he understands them now, because the way his stomach
And he only thought it was all very /pathetic/.
He thinks he understands them now, because the way his stomach
lurches and his heart freezes in his chest when he hears Chuuya’s phone call to the floor, followed shortly by the thump of heavy and limp—
God, it’s /terrifying/. More petrifying than having a gun held to his face, scarier than the phone call he got from Sasaki telling him she
God, it’s /terrifying/. More petrifying than having a gun held to his face, scarier than the phone call he got from Sasaki telling him she
was pregnant.
He understands kneeling and begging now, because the only coherent thought he has is—
/ He’s hurt. Chuuya’s hurt, and I’m not there. /
The reality that /anything/ could happen when he’s not there to make sure his safe is /gut-wrenching/. He always knew that
He understands kneeling and begging now, because the only coherent thought he has is—
/ He’s hurt. Chuuya’s hurt, and I’m not there. /
The reality that /anything/ could happen when he’s not there to make sure his safe is /gut-wrenching/. He always knew that
it was logically possible—
But seeing it? /Hearing/ it, while being kilometers away and helpless to stop it?
It’s like every beat of his heart is a sickening, awful percussion in his chest, hollowing him out. Anxiety and /fear/ race through his veins like poison.
He doesn’t
But seeing it? /Hearing/ it, while being kilometers away and helpless to stop it?
It’s like every beat of his heart is a sickening, awful percussion in his chest, hollowing him out. Anxiety and /fear/ race through his veins like poison.
He doesn’t
remember throwing on his shoes or locking the door in his rush to get out of the house. All he knows is a frantic, panicked need to get there /now/.
It's probably the fastest he's ever driven to the college campus. He doesn't follow a /single/ speed limit, and he puts his skills
It's probably the fastest he's ever driven to the college campus. He doesn't follow a /single/ speed limit, and he puts his skills
to the test as he drifts around corners and roars through the red lights. He's not stopping for /anything/.
It's a dozen agonizingly long minutes before the college campus comes into view. He picks the closest parking lot there is to Chuuya's dorm, parking the car on the
It's a dozen agonizingly long minutes before the college campus comes into view. He picks the closest parking lot there is to Chuuya's dorm, parking the car on the
damn /sidewalk/.
He unlocks his phone as he throws himself out of the car. There's a tracking app he installed on it recently, which he's /thankful/ for, because it points exactly where Chuuya's phone is located.
Hopefully Chuuya is still there. Hopefully it's not /serious/.
He unlocks his phone as he throws himself out of the car. There's a tracking app he installed on it recently, which he's /thankful/ for, because it points exactly where Chuuya's phone is located.
Hopefully Chuuya is still there. Hopefully it's not /serious/.
He takes off at a dead run, carelessly pushing past students in his way. Every so often he checks the green tracking dot on his phone and adjusts his direction.
His breath comes in harsh, agonized pants.
/Please be okay. Please be there. Please don't be hurt./
As he gets
His breath comes in harsh, agonized pants.
/Please be okay. Please be there. Please don't be hurt./
As he gets
closer, he notices a crowd gathered in a rough circle. It's in the same direction as Chuuya's phone, so he pokets his own phone and bolts over there.
There's a few offended gasps and shocked cries as he shoves his way through, but he doesn't care for that. All he cares about is
There's a few offended gasps and shocked cries as he shoves his way through, but he doesn't care for that. All he cares about is
/him/, where is he, where is he, where /is he/--
/There/.
In the middle, with a pair of students crouched beside him, is Chuuya. They seem to be urging him to stay /down/, while Chuuya is arguing faintly with them. His phone is in one of their hands, held securely.
"Chuuya?!"
/There/.
In the middle, with a pair of students crouched beside him, is Chuuya. They seem to be urging him to stay /down/, while Chuuya is arguing faintly with them. His phone is in one of their hands, held securely.
"Chuuya?!"
He calls, rushing over and dropping to his knees beside him. The two students edge out of his way as he leans over to look Chuuya over.
The first thing he notices, with relief, is that there's no /blood/.
The second thing he notices is how /terrible/ Chuuya looks. Frightfully
The first thing he notices, with relief, is that there's no /blood/.
The second thing he notices is how /terrible/ Chuuya looks. Frightfully
pale, his face drawn and thin. His hair is a /mess/, pulled up in a tangled bun. He's wearing a jacket and shivering visibly, even though it's not cold outside.
When he leans over, Chuuya's eyes focus in on him. Well, /focus/ might be too generous considering his eyes look
When he leans over, Chuuya's eyes focus in on him. Well, /focus/ might be too generous considering his eyes look
bleary and unfocused.
"Oh, you're here, Dazai," he mutters, voice wobbling slightly but clear.
All in all, he seems /mostly/ okay-- or at least it's not as terrible as his imagination was picturing. He was preparing himself for a /gunshot/ wound or a stabbing, or something
"Oh, you're here, Dazai," he mutters, voice wobbling slightly but clear.
All in all, he seems /mostly/ okay-- or at least it's not as terrible as his imagination was picturing. He was preparing himself for a /gunshot/ wound or a stabbing, or something
equally as life-threatening.
"Of course I'm here," he mutters back, reaching forward to lay the back of his hand over Chuuya's forehead. He hisses when he feels how /hot/ his skin is, almost boiling in its intensity.
He's /sick/ then. Raging with fever and collapsed. That
"Of course I'm here," he mutters back, reaching forward to lay the back of his hand over Chuuya's forehead. He hisses when he feels how /hot/ his skin is, almost boiling in its intensity.
He's /sick/ then. Raging with fever and collapsed. That
explains the coughing.
Reaching to cup the back of his head, he gently pulls him up into a sitting position. Chuuya lets him, heavy-limp in his grip, though he does squeeze his eyes shut in response. He looks pained, and the way he grips at Dazai's forearm is /weak/.
"How do
Reaching to cup the back of his head, he gently pulls him up into a sitting position. Chuuya lets him, heavy-limp in his grip, though he does squeeze his eyes shut in response. He looks pained, and the way he grips at Dazai's forearm is /weak/.
"How do
you feel? Does your head hurt?" He asks, holding him upright to make sure he doesn't fall over as he grabs his bag with his other hand.
He's /definitely/ taking him to hospital this time. No matter how much Chuuya protests or tries to say he's okay. He's not getting out of it.
He's /definitely/ taking him to hospital this time. No matter how much Chuuya protests or tries to say he's okay. He's not getting out of it.
"I don't feel so good," Chuuya mutters, swaying forward slightly. His expression is rapidly turning green, like he's going to vomit.
Dazai swipes Chuuya's phone from the student with a muttered "Thanks, I'll handle this." before shoving it in his pocket.
Carefully, he slips
Dazai swipes Chuuya's phone from the student with a muttered "Thanks, I'll handle this." before shoving it in his pocket.
Carefully, he slips
both arms underneath Chuuya's body, careful to keep as much of him supported as possible as he picks him up. He's /awfully/ light, much lighter than the /last/ time Dazai picked him up.
The worry ratchets higher, beginning to crest again. He must be /really/ sick.
Chuuya's head
The worry ratchets higher, beginning to crest again. He must be /really/ sick.
Chuuya's head
finds his shoulder, searing hot forehead pressing against the side of his neck. His breath is sickeningly hot and humid, puffed out in uneven breaths.
"Let's go," Dazai tells him, carefully keeping him steady as he turns around and starts to head back to the car. The students
"Let's go," Dazai tells him, carefully keeping him steady as he turns around and starts to head back to the car. The students
move out of his way easily, murmuring to each other. Some of them sound /scandalized/, like the recognize him from the infernal Snapchat that was going around.
He doesn't care, not right now. All his focus is on the too-light, too-warm body in his arms and getting him to a
He doesn't care, not right now. All his focus is on the too-light, too-warm body in his arms and getting him to a
hospital as quickly as possible.
"'azai," Chuuya mutters into his neck, wincing when Dazai has to twist him sideways to lower him into the car. His hand draped over his shoulder seems to want to hold on, keep him close, but he's not strong enough to keep him there.
Dazai
"'azai," Chuuya mutters into his neck, wincing when Dazai has to twist him sideways to lower him into the car. His hand draped over his shoulder seems to want to hold on, keep him close, but he's not strong enough to keep him there.
Dazai
crouches beside him, reaching around to buckle him in. "Hi, sweetheart," he answers, stroking his fingers over his cheek to let him know he's here.Chuuya's eyes are squeezed shut, and he's tucking his head to avoid the sunlight spilling through the windshield. "What do you need?"
"Cold," he mumbles, curling himself into a tighter ball after the seatbelt clicks into place. Dazai flips the visor down, trying to angle it to shield him from the sun.
"Alright. I got you," he reassures him. He's not wearing a jacket that he can drape over him, but he can turn
"Alright. I got you," he reassures him. He's not wearing a jacket that he can drape over him, but he can turn
on the seat warmers and the heater for him. He shoves his bag in the back seat before easing the door shut.
He's not as careful with his own door, yanking it open so he can slide in. With one hand he starts the door and puts it in drive, and with the other he turns on the seat
He's not as careful with his own door, yanking it open so he can slide in. With one hand he starts the door and puts it in drive, and with the other he turns on the seat
warmers and the heaters, pushing all the vents so they're directed at Chuuya.
He's much more careful pulling out than he was driving in, because he doesn't want to bother Chuuya's nausea, or make him uncomfortable. The redhead looks so /tiny/ curled up in the seat, but he's
He's much more careful pulling out than he was driving in, because he doesn't want to bother Chuuya's nausea, or make him uncomfortable. The redhead looks so /tiny/ curled up in the seat, but he's
finally starting to relax. The shivering is still present, but slowing down.
There's a hospital only a few minutes from campus. He's sure that was built into the city planning, because college kids are accident-prone. He's driven past it enough that he doesn't need directions.
There's a hospital only a few minutes from campus. He's sure that was built into the city planning, because college kids are accident-prone. He's driven past it enough that he doesn't need directions.
"Are you taking me home?"
Dazai ignores the warm,squirming feeling he gets in his chest at the sound of Chuuya calling his house /home/. He would've never thought something so /simple/ would make him so happy, but here he is, giddiness bubbling up beneath the lingering anxiety.
Dazai ignores the warm,squirming feeling he gets in his chest at the sound of Chuuya calling his house /home/. He would've never thought something so /simple/ would make him so happy, but here he is, giddiness bubbling up beneath the lingering anxiety.
He's only willingly opened his home for a few people, so to see Chuuya settling in so nicely, to see him comfortable and happy and /safe/ there--
Well, he can think about /that/ and the resulting rush of feelings later.
"No, I'm taking you to the hospital," Dazai answers,
Well, he can think about /that/ and the resulting rush of feelings later.
"No, I'm taking you to the hospital," Dazai answers,
preparing himself for an /argument/. Chuuya is probably one of the few people who is even /more/ stubborn than he is,and he's historically been against going to see a doctor even when he /should have/. Dazai's /not/ letting him get out of it this time, though.
"Oh," Chuuya says,
"Oh," Chuuya says,
sounding small and shocked. "Okay."
He falls silent then, bringing his knees to his chest and curling up against the door miserably.
If Dazai thought hearing him rasp out words and be in clear misery was bad--
It has /nothing/ on the terror inspired by the silence and the way
He falls silent then, bringing his knees to his chest and curling up against the door miserably.
If Dazai thought hearing him rasp out words and be in clear misery was bad--
It has /nothing/ on the terror inspired by the silence and the way
he goes completely and utterly still. Like he's /dead/.
His foot presses harder on the gas,accelerating.
It's Friday afternoon, so the traffic is congested and makes everything /slow/. He takes every shortcut he can and breaks a few laws to get to the hospital quicker, but it's
His foot presses harder on the gas,accelerating.
It's Friday afternoon, so the traffic is congested and makes everything /slow/. He takes every shortcut he can and breaks a few laws to get to the hospital quicker, but it's
still over twenty minutes before the building is looming up in front of him.
He parks in the first spot he sees, uncaring if it's meant for patients or not. Any fines or tickets or even having his car towed can be easily paid off.
When he opens Chuuya's door again, his baby
He parks in the first spot he sees, uncaring if it's meant for patients or not. Any fines or tickets or even having his car towed can be easily paid off.
When he opens Chuuya's door again, his baby
reaches up for him, looking for all the world like he just wants to be /held/. Like he's miserable and he wants to be comforted and taken care of. His eyes are watery, like he's on the verge of tears.
Dazai makes a soothing noise at him, carefully picking him up. This time he
Dazai makes a soothing noise at him, carefully picking him up. This time he
lets his legs hook on either side of his hips, with his hands supporting his thighs. Chuuya tucks his forehead into the crook of his neck to shield himself from the light, arms slung limply over his shoulders.
The only thing of Chuuya's he takes with him is his wallet. The
The only thing of Chuuya's he takes with him is his wallet. The
hospital will probably need to see some ID at some point. His bag,he leaves in the car.
Thankfully, it's only a short walk into the waiting room. Dazai's long legs eat up the distance quickly.
When he enters, the first thing Dazai registers is the lingering smell of antiseptic.
Thankfully, it's only a short walk into the waiting room. Dazai's long legs eat up the distance quickly.
When he enters, the first thing Dazai registers is the lingering smell of antiseptic.
His nostrils flare, fighting back the instinctive panic reaction.
Mori's office always smelled like this. Like bleach and scrubbed-away blood, the lingering ghost of pain.
The insides of his wrists itch, suddenly, a buzzing that wants to overtake his mind.
Pushing it away,
Mori's office always smelled like this. Like bleach and scrubbed-away blood, the lingering ghost of pain.
The insides of his wrists itch, suddenly, a buzzing that wants to overtake his mind.
Pushing it away,
Dazai heads into the waiting room. It's still the afternoon and the lounge is nearly empty, so it looks like they've beaten the evening rush of injuries.
Good. The faster Chuuya gets checked out, the better.
There's a soft cushioned chair placed by a wall. Dazai sets him down
Good. The faster Chuuya gets checked out, the better.
There's a soft cushioned chair placed by a wall. Dazai sets him down
there, guiding him to lean up against the wall so he doesn't have to hold up his own weight.
"I'll be right back," he tells him, taking the time to drop a reassuring kiss on his forehead. "I'm going to check you in."
There's a noise that /might/ be acknowledgement or might be
"I'll be right back," he tells him, taking the time to drop a reassuring kiss on his forehead. "I'm going to check you in."
There's a noise that /might/ be acknowledgement or might be
just a sniff of misery, but Chuuya doesn't protest as Dazai pulls away.
The floor is made of cheap carpet, muffling his footsteps as he makes his way over to the reception desk. There's music playing faintly in the background.
Dazai hates it. This is an /emergency/ room, why
The floor is made of cheap carpet, muffling his footsteps as he makes his way over to the reception desk. There's music playing faintly in the background.
Dazai hates it. This is an /emergency/ room, why
are they playing /Mozart/? It feels wrong.
"Hello," he says to the girl at the reception desk. He doesn't have the willpower to smile at her right now, not when he feels strained and pulled into a dozen different directions. "I need to check someone in."
The girl, hair dyed
"Hello," he says to the girl at the reception desk. He doesn't have the willpower to smile at her right now, not when he feels strained and pulled into a dozen different directions. "I need to check someone in."
The girl, hair dyed
blonde and eyes lined thickly with mascara,looks him up and down. "Relationship to the patient?" She asks him, sounding very impatient with her job.
Dazai hesitates here. Technically, he doesn't need to be related or legally attached to Chuuya to check him in or even stay in the
Dazai hesitates here. Technically, he doesn't need to be related or legally attached to Chuuya to check him in or even stay in the
room with him but--
Sensitive information won't be disclosed to him, and if it's something /serious/, there's every chance he'll be kicked out in favor of calling someone from Chuuya's family.
The thought of that fills him with anxiety.
He flashes a strained smile. "Fiancé."
Sensitive information won't be disclosed to him, and if it's something /serious/, there's every chance he'll be kicked out in favor of calling someone from Chuuya's family.
The thought of that fills him with anxiety.
He flashes a strained smile. "Fiancé."
It's a lie, but a benign one. He's sure Chuuya won't be angry at him for it. He might even think it's /funny/.
The girl-- her nametag says her name is Hara-- eyes him up for another moment before shrugging. Reaching down onto the desk, she pulls out a packet of paper and a
The girl-- her nametag says her name is Hara-- eyes him up for another moment before shrugging. Reaching down onto the desk, she pulls out a packet of paper and a
clipboard with an attached pen. "Fill this out. Bring it back when you're done."
Dazai takes it without another word, spinning around to head back to Chuuya. Every second he's out of his sight fills him with itching, crawling paranoia. Like if he takes his eyes off him for even
Dazai takes it without another word, spinning around to head back to Chuuya. Every second he's out of his sight fills him with itching, crawling paranoia. Like if he takes his eyes off him for even
a second, he might get /hurt/.
Chuuya is exactly where he left him, slumped up against the wall. His eyes are shut, breathing slightly shaky. He looks like he might be asleep, and judging by the bags under his eyes, he needs as much rest as he can get.
Dazai sits down next to
Chuuya is exactly where he left him, slumped up against the wall. His eyes are shut, breathing slightly shaky. He looks like he might be asleep, and judging by the bags under his eyes, he needs as much rest as he can get.
Dazai sits down next to
him, trying not to jostle him--
Blue eyes crack open blearily at the movement, and when Chuuya sees that it's /him/, he's moving. Instead of leaning against the wall, he's now slumped against Dazai, cheek pressed against his arm. His grip, when he finds Dazai's hand and
Blue eyes crack open blearily at the movement, and when Chuuya sees that it's /him/, he's moving. Instead of leaning against the wall, he's now slumped against Dazai, cheek pressed against his arm. His grip, when he finds Dazai's hand and
interlaces their fingers together, is weak and trembling.
But Dazai doesn't let go, gently squeezing his hand and letting him use him as a body rest. He starts to fill out the paperwork with his other hand, as quickly as possible.
Most of the information is basic. Name, date of
But Dazai doesn't let go, gently squeezing his hand and letting him use him as a body rest. He starts to fill out the paperwork with his other hand, as quickly as possible.
Most of the information is basic. Name, date of
birth, sex, weight, height. Dazai does his best, casting through his memory for all the information he'd dug up on Chuuya early on in their relationship.
For the address he puts his /own/ home address, and he puts his own insurance information down. From what he's been told,
For the address he puts his /own/ home address, and he puts his own insurance information down. From what he's been told,
Chuuya's family is not wealthy. He's making the assumption that their insurance isn't that great because of it, and Dazai wants /no/ expense spared.
It's easy enough to hack into the insurance database and add Chuuya's information on there. Rokuzou is a surprsingly good
It's easy enough to hack into the insurance database and add Chuuya's information on there. Rokuzou is a surprsingly good
teacher and Dazai has picked up a few tricks from him.
When he gets to the family history and the symptoms section, he fills it out as best as he can before he has to jostle Chuuya into alertness.
"Are you nauseous, dizzy, lightheaded, confused?"
"Um," Chuuya says, clearly
When he gets to the family history and the symptoms section, he fills it out as best as he can before he has to jostle Chuuya into alertness.
"Are you nauseous, dizzy, lightheaded, confused?"
"Um," Chuuya says, clearly
struggling to think it over. "Yes."
The worry spikes a little harder, and the pen nearly shreds the paper with how hard he's pressing. "Any bleeding, or sleeping issues?"
"No bleeding but I'm /exhausted/."
Poor thing, he /sounds/ exhausted.
"Does your family have any medical
The worry spikes a little harder, and the pen nearly shreds the paper with how hard he's pressing. "Any bleeding, or sleeping issues?"
"No bleeding but I'm /exhausted/."
Poor thing, he /sounds/ exhausted.
"Does your family have any medical
history? Illnesses, diseases? Do you have any illnesses or medical history?
Chuuya slumps against him further, like the conversation is tiring him out even faster. "Family doesn't. I was born too early though, so I've been sick a lot."
'Born premature' isn't an option that
Chuuya slumps against him further, like the conversation is tiring him out even faster. "Family doesn't. I was born too early though, so I've been sick a lot."
'Born premature' isn't an option that
Dazai sees, but he scribbles in the “other” box, just in case. He’s not sure it matters, considering Chuuya is now a fully grown adult, but every bit of information helps.
In the box asking for other injuries he writes out RECENT HEAD TRAUMA.
That’s the most terrifying thing
In the box asking for other injuries he writes out RECENT HEAD TRAUMA.
That’s the most terrifying thing
about the whole situation because—
What if he’s /not/ sick? What if it’s a brain injury? Dazai knows some injuries don’t present right away. What if it’s one of those times?
What if Chuuya had a— a /brain bleed/ or something similar, that has been growing and getting worse this
What if he’s /not/ sick? What if it’s a brain injury? Dazai knows some injuries don’t present right away. What if it’s one of those times?
What if Chuuya had a— a /brain bleed/ or something similar, that has been growing and getting worse this
entire time?
And Dazai has been fucking him and pulling him around by his leash and—
What if he made it /worse/?
What if this is his fault, because he was stupid and careless and didn’t care of Chuuya the way he needed?
God, he hopes it’s just the flu. It is flu season
And Dazai has been fucking him and pulling him around by his leash and—
What if he made it /worse/?
What if this is his fault, because he was stupid and careless and didn’t care of Chuuya the way he needed?
God, he hopes it’s just the flu. It is flu season
after all, and he did hear one or two other students coughing on the campus.
It’s just /terrifying/ because most of the symptoms of the flu, and the ones Chuuya is experiencing— headache, nausea, dizziness— are also symptoms of /concussions/.
When he’s filled out the forms, he
It’s just /terrifying/ because most of the symptoms of the flu, and the ones Chuuya is experiencing— headache, nausea, dizziness— are also symptoms of /concussions/.
When he’s filled out the forms, he
nudges Chuuya back into leaning against the wall. “Be right back,” he mutters, and then goes to turn in the forms.
Hara doesn’t look particularly impressed with him when he hands over the clipboard, but she silently glances over the paperwork and nods.
With nothing left to do,
Hara doesn’t look particularly impressed with him when he hands over the clipboard, but she silently glances over the paperwork and nods.
With nothing left to do,
goes back to Chuuya. This time, when he sits next to him, he pulls him into his lap to hold him.
Beyond the driving need to make sure Chuuya is okay, there’s also a deeper, desperate need to comfort /himself/. He wants, no, /needs/, to hold him and reassure himself that he’s
Beyond the driving need to make sure Chuuya is okay, there’s also a deeper, desperate need to comfort /himself/. He wants, no, /needs/, to hold him and reassure himself that he’s
still okay. Still breathing, still /alive/. Safe and secure in his arms while they wait for the doctor to call them back.
Honestly, Dazai was prepared to wait an hour or even longer to get called back. Yokohama General Hospital isn’t known for it’s /speedy/ work, but it’s the
Honestly, Dazai was prepared to wait an hour or even longer to get called back. Yokohama General Hospital isn’t known for it’s /speedy/ work, but it’s the
closest hospital. They see thousands of patients a day, probably.
Which is why it’s surprising that they only wait twenty minutes before a door leading to the rest of the hospital is opening up. “Nakahara Chuuya?”
Dazai nudges Chuuya with his shoulder, urging him up. “Come on,
Which is why it’s surprising that they only wait twenty minutes before a door leading to the rest of the hospital is opening up. “Nakahara Chuuya?”
Dazai nudges Chuuya with his shoulder, urging him up. “Come on,
you gotta walk now.”
Chuuya grumbles incoherently, but manages to get his feet under himself.
Dazai follows closely behind as he staggers over to the nurse holding the door open for them. He’s probably hovering, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to let Chuuya collapse
Chuuya grumbles incoherently, but manages to get his feet under himself.
Dazai follows closely behind as he staggers over to the nurse holding the door open for them. He’s probably hovering, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to let Chuuya collapse
/again/.
Not when he can be there to catch him.
The nurse eyes him as he walks past. She’s not unkind as she asks, “Would you like a wheelchair?”
Chuuya grunts as he passes by, trudging in the quieter, colder hallways in the back. “No, I got it.”
Fucking /stubborn/.
Not when he can be there to catch him.
The nurse eyes him as he walks past. She’s not unkind as she asks, “Would you like a wheelchair?”
Chuuya grunts as he passes by, trudging in the quieter, colder hallways in the back. “No, I got it.”
Fucking /stubborn/.
Dazai swears there is /nothing/ so frustrating than seeing someone /close/ to you stubbornly and ardently refuse help for /no/ reason, /especially/ when they clearly need it. He could tear his own hair out.
“Alright, then,” the nurse says, carefully neutral as she leads them
“Alright, then,” the nurse says, carefully neutral as she leads them
into a nearby room.
It’s climate controlled back here, carefully maintained so it’s neither cold nor hot— but Dazai can already see the shivers starting to start back up in Chuuya’s frame.
The room they’re shown into looks like a typical doctors office. There’s an examination
It’s climate controlled back here, carefully maintained so it’s neither cold nor hot— but Dazai can already see the shivers starting to start back up in Chuuya’s frame.
The room they’re shown into looks like a typical doctors office. There’s an examination
bed, and a pair of chairs. A computer and a series of tools hanging up on the wall near the examination bed.
The room is cleanly cold. Sterile.
Chuuya drops down on the examination bed like he’s too exhausted to do it elegantly. He braces himself with one hand on the bed
The room is cleanly cold. Sterile.
Chuuya drops down on the examination bed like he’s too exhausted to do it elegantly. He braces himself with one hand on the bed
behind him as the nurse starts to take his vitals.
As she’s wrapping the pressure cuff around his bicep, she asks, “What brings you in today?”
It’s casual conversation, but it makes Dazai’s teeth clench together. They already filled out the forms, why do they have to go through
As she’s wrapping the pressure cuff around his bicep, she asks, “What brings you in today?”
It’s casual conversation, but it makes Dazai’s teeth clench together. They already filled out the forms, why do they have to go through
this /again/, but verbally.
“Think I’m sick,” Chuuya sighs, offering up his finger when she brings out the clip that records temperature. “I fainted.”
Dazai says nothing, sitting in the chair along the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, watching like a hawk as she
“Think I’m sick,” Chuuya sighs, offering up his finger when she brings out the clip that records temperature. “I fainted.”
Dazai says nothing, sitting in the chair along the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, watching like a hawk as she
records all his vitals into the computer.
“Alright,” she says when she’s done, “the neurologist will be with you soon.”
Dazai’s stomach plummets. The /neurologist/?
Chuuya watches her go, letting himself fall backwards and lay down when she’s gone. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Alright,” she says when she’s done, “the neurologist will be with you soon.”
Dazai’s stomach plummets. The /neurologist/?
Chuuya watches her go, letting himself fall backwards and lay down when she’s gone. “That doesn’t sound good.”
No. No it does not.
“Isn’t that a brain doctor or something?” Chuuya asks. He’s curling up now, facing Dazai. One of his hands is cupped over the side of his face, shielding his eyes from the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights. “Why are they calling a brain doctor if I’m just
“Isn’t that a brain doctor or something?” Chuuya asks. He’s curling up now, facing Dazai. One of his hands is cupped over the side of his face, shielding his eyes from the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights. “Why are they calling a brain doctor if I’m just
sick?”
Because what if he’s /not/ sick? What if he’s /hurt/?
Dazai exhales slowly, unable to find the exact words underneath the mess of anxiety and fear coating his tongue. “We’ll find out soon.”
He doesn’t want to say the words ‘what if’ out loud. Doesn’t want to put a
Because what if he’s /not/ sick? What if he’s /hurt/?
Dazai exhales slowly, unable to find the exact words underneath the mess of anxiety and fear coating his tongue. “We’ll find out soon.”
He doesn’t want to say the words ‘what if’ out loud. Doesn’t want to put a
/name/ to all the things that could be going wrong, doesn’t want to put a possibility to all /serious/ complications, doesn’t want to jinx himself or Chuuya.
Doesn’t want to say any of it out loud, because that means making it real. Taking it from nightmare thoughts to hellish
Doesn’t want to say any of it out loud, because that means making it real. Taking it from nightmare thoughts to hellish
reality.
And it /is/ soon. It’s a little over ten, cold, quiet minutes before there’s a knock on the door.
It opens before either of them can call out. A tall, silver-haired man steps through, a chart in hand. He’s wearing slacks and a dress shirt, but the sleeves of his
And it /is/ soon. It’s a little over ten, cold, quiet minutes before there’s a knock on the door.
It opens before either of them can call out. A tall, silver-haired man steps through, a chart in hand. He’s wearing slacks and a dress shirt, but the sleeves of his
lab coat and shirt are rolled up to reveal corded forearms.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Gide, one of the neurologists at Yokohama General. Which one of you is Nakahara Chuuya?” He greets, laying his clipboard on the counter. His voice is smooth and low, lightly accented.
Chuuya pulls
“Hello, I’m Dr. Gide, one of the neurologists at Yokohama General. Which one of you is Nakahara Chuuya?” He greets, laying his clipboard on the counter. His voice is smooth and low, lightly accented.
Chuuya pulls
himself into a sitting position. His eyes are squinted against the light, and he’s starting to look green again. “That’s me.”
Gide looks over at Dazai. “That must make you the fiancé, Dazai?”
Chuuya throws him a look. Subtly, Dazai gives him a signal that urges him to go with
Gide looks over at Dazai. “That must make you the fiancé, Dazai?”
Chuuya throws him a look. Subtly, Dazai gives him a signal that urges him to go with
it. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Lovely,” Gide says, approaching Chuuya. Taking the pressure cuff off the wall, he wraps it around Chuuya’s arm again. “Heard you hit your head the other day. Can you tell me what happened?”
It’s a gentle, probing question. Not /demanding/ or frightening,
“Lovely,” Gide says, approaching Chuuya. Taking the pressure cuff off the wall, he wraps it around Chuuya’s arm again. “Heard you hit your head the other day. Can you tell me what happened?”
It’s a gentle, probing question. Not /demanding/ or frightening,
but clearly prompts Chuuya to explain.
“I was... play-fighting with a friend,” he starts, wobbling a bit on the explanation. He’s probably not trying to get Shuuji in /trouble/, because if he just comes out and say Shuuji tried to /kill/ him, it would open up a police
“I was... play-fighting with a friend,” he starts, wobbling a bit on the explanation. He’s probably not trying to get Shuuji in /trouble/, because if he just comes out and say Shuuji tried to /kill/ him, it would open up a police
investigation. “I tripped and fell backwards, and hit my head on the table. It wasn’t that bad though. Just had a headache for a few hours. Didn’t have a concussion or anything.”
Gide pulls out a penlight from his coat pocket, flashing the light in each of Chuuya’s eyes to test
Gide pulls out a penlight from his coat pocket, flashing the light in each of Chuuya’s eyes to test
light reactivity. “When was this?”
Chuuya seems to think about it hard, eyebrows drawing together. He winced at the light but doesn’t move away or close his eyes. “Six days ago?”
“No,” Dazai interrupts, concern spiking. That’s not /right/. “It was /eight/ days ago.”
Gide
Chuuya seems to think about it hard, eyebrows drawing together. He winced at the light but doesn’t move away or close his eyes. “Six days ago?”
“No,” Dazai interrupts, concern spiking. That’s not /right/. “It was /eight/ days ago.”
Gide
looks over his shoulder at him. He’s very professional, expression calm and neutral. “You’re sure?”
Dazai nods. He wouldn’t forget that day, /ever/. He’s not sure why Chuuya got the days wrong. It’s still fresh and new, so why didn’t he remember?
“Did you see a doctor for
Dazai nods. He wouldn’t forget that day, /ever/. He’s not sure why Chuuya got the days wrong. It’s still fresh and new, so why didn’t he remember?
“Did you see a doctor for
that? Follow my finger please,” Gide continues, turning back to Chuuya. He holds his index finger up, moving it back and forth in front of his vision.
“No, but it really wasn’t that bad, I swear. I’ve had a concussion before and it was nowhere near that.”
When he’s satisfied
“No, but it really wasn’t that bad, I swear. I’ve had a concussion before and it was nowhere near that.”
When he’s satisfied
with that exercise, Gide pulls his hand back. “When did your symptoms start, Chuuya?”
“Um...three days ago, but it only got bad yesterday. I woke up with a sore throat on Wednesday,” he answers, watching the doctor as he moves back to his computer and starts to enter in all the
“Um...three days ago, but it only got bad yesterday. I woke up with a sore throat on Wednesday,” he answers, watching the doctor as he moves back to his computer and starts to enter in all the
new information.
Then, Dazai can’t hold himself back anymore. He’s been /patient/ and quiet, but with each test the neurologist has done, he’s gotten more and more anxious. He has to /know/. “Do you think it’s something serious with his head?”
Gide hums, not looking away from
Then, Dazai can’t hold himself back anymore. He’s been /patient/ and quiet, but with each test the neurologist has done, he’s gotten more and more anxious. He has to /know/. “Do you think it’s something serious with his head?”
Gide hums, not looking away from
the computer. “In all likelihood, he’s probably just sick. It’s long enough after the trauma that I’m not /terribly/ concerned. However, because his symptoms /do/ line up with those of neurological trauma, I’d like to keep him to do some tests. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Dazai lets out a breath. If the neurologist isn’t concerned, then he shouldn’t be either, right?
(On the examination bed, Chuuya winces and puts his hands his temples. His head is /pounding/. He can feel the throb of his pulse with every heart beat and the lights are /agony/.)
(On the examination bed, Chuuya winces and puts his hands his temples. His head is /pounding/. He can feel the throb of his pulse with every heart beat and the lights are /agony/.)
“What kind of tests?”
Not that Dazai will protest or actually even know what Gide is talking about, but he feels so /helpless/. This is a problem he can’t even begin to solve, and the idea of that is making him very frustrated. He feels worthless, almost. A bystander, regulated
Not that Dazai will protest or actually even know what Gide is talking about, but he feels so /helpless/. This is a problem he can’t even begin to solve, and the idea of that is making him very frustrated. He feels worthless, almost. A bystander, regulated
to watching and waiting.
“I’d like to order a CT scan, just to make sure there’s nothing going wrong up there. Possibly an x-ray as well. I’ll keep you updated on the plan once we get him admitted.”
Alright, that doesn’t sound /too/ bad. “Okay. Oh, I wanted to mention— he’s
“I’d like to order a CT scan, just to make sure there’s nothing going wrong up there. Possibly an x-ray as well. I’ll keep you updated on the plan once we get him admitted.”
Alright, that doesn’t sound /too/ bad. “Okay. Oh, I wanted to mention— he’s
lost a lot of weight. I can’t give you a number, but it’s a noticeable difference between three days ago.”
Gide nods, finishing up his notes. “Alright, I’ll put that in the chart. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me before I go?”
“My head hurts,” Chuuya whimpers. He’s
Gide nods, finishing up his notes. “Alright, I’ll put that in the chart. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me before I go?”
“My head hurts,” Chuuya whimpers. He’s
hunched over his lap, hands pressed to the sides of his head. His voice is thick with tears.
Gide frowns. His eyes, reddish in the light, have sharpened. “Alright. I’ll let the nurse know so she can prescribe you some pain medication—.”
“/No/, it’s— My head /hurts/,” Chuuya
Gide frowns. His eyes, reddish in the light, have sharpened. “Alright. I’ll let the nurse know so she can prescribe you some pain medication—.”
“/No/, it’s— My head /hurts/,” Chuuya
repeats, sounding like he’s desperate for them to believe them. “Feels like it’s gonna /explode/. It’s—.”
He pauses there, but not because he’s done speaking.
It’s because he’s going rigid, the breath leaving him on a pained exhale. His eyes are rolling back in his head, and
He pauses there, but not because he’s done speaking.
It’s because he’s going rigid, the breath leaving him on a pained exhale. His eyes are rolling back in his head, and
his jaw clamps shut with an audible click. He jerks once, twice, /three times/—
And for the first time in his life, Dazai freezes. All he can do is /watch/, blood like ice water in his veins, as Gide jumps over to catch Chuuya before he falls as—
As he has a /seizure/.
And for the first time in his life, Dazai freezes. All he can do is /watch/, blood like ice water in his veins, as Gide jumps over to catch Chuuya before he falls as—
As he has a /seizure/.
There is something so... viscerally terrifying and gut-wrenching about watching someone have a seizure. The movies and the medical dramas don’t do it any justice.
It fills the air with a sense of /wrongness/, of pure, instinctual terror because—
Chuuya should /not/ be moving
It fills the air with a sense of /wrongness/, of pure, instinctual terror because—
Chuuya should /not/ be moving
like that, like someone or /something/ has grabbed him by the spine and is /yanking/ on him. It’s uncoordinated, unnatural, limbs flailing and jerking in odd rhythms.
It’s like watching the death throes of an animal.
Like watching someone get possessed, if you believe in God.
It’s like watching the death throes of an animal.
Like watching someone get possessed, if you believe in God.
In this moment, in /this/ exact moment, frozen like a rabbit under the incoming car tire, helpless and hopeless, Dazai decides—
He does not believe.
Because what kind of God would allow something like /this/?
“Dazai, I need you to hit the red button on the wall behind you,”
He does not believe.
Because what kind of God would allow something like /this/?
“Dazai, I need you to hit the red button on the wall behind you,”
Gide tells him, and he has /no/ fucking right to sound so damn /calm/ right now. He even /looks/ calm, hands holding Chuuya’s shoulders. He’s not pinning him so much as he’s making sure that Chuuya doesn’t fall off the bed as he jerks and writhes like an air-stricken fish.
Dazai can’t look away. The hair on the back of his neck is standing straight up.
It’s /awful/, like he’s watching an incoming funeral. How is /anyone/ supposed to survive this?
“Dazai! The /button/!” Gide snaps, irritation seeping into his tone. His voice is sharp, like a
It’s /awful/, like he’s watching an incoming funeral. How is /anyone/ supposed to survive this?
“Dazai! The /button/!” Gide snaps, irritation seeping into his tone. His voice is sharp, like a
cutting knife.
It’s enough to have Dazai startling back to life, panic receding for a moment.
Turning, he smashes the button with his fist, uncaring that he damn near breaks the electronic box. The side of his hand stings from the force, but it barely registers.
There’s
It’s enough to have Dazai startling back to life, panic receding for a moment.
Turning, he smashes the button with his fist, uncaring that he damn near breaks the electronic box. The side of his hand stings from the force, but it barely registers.
There’s
nothing worse than feeling completely and utterly /helpless/. Dazai can handle gunshots. Stan wounds. Broken bones, burns, CPR. He’s /not/ helpless.
But he is, in the face of this.
All he can do is drown in his own horror as the seizure slowly stutters out and slows down.
But he is, in the face of this.
All he can do is drown in his own horror as the seizure slowly stutters out and slows down.
It’s his torso that stops jerking first, and then there’s sharp, wet inhale that’s tinged with a sob.
Could he even /breathe/ when he’s like that?
Then most of Chuuya goes limp. His hands and feet twitch intermittently, but nothing like the seizure.
“Hey, Chuuya— can I call
Could he even /breathe/ when he’s like that?
Then most of Chuuya goes limp. His hands and feet twitch intermittently, but nothing like the seizure.
“Hey, Chuuya— can I call
you Chuuya?” Gide says soothingly, the calm in the storm. He keeps one hand on his shoulder grounding him. “Can you hear me?”
There’s a second of tension before Gide is breaking it again with, “That’s okay. You don’t need to speak. I just need to know if you can hear me.”
There’s a second of tension before Gide is breaking it again with, “That’s okay. You don’t need to speak. I just need to know if you can hear me.”
There’s a low, pained noise, like a muffled sob. Like he can’t /speak/.
“That’s good, Chuuya. I’m glad you can hear me. That must’ve been very scary, but I want you to try to keep calm, okay? I’m gonna help you. I’m going to figure out what’s wrong, and try to fix it, alright?”
“That’s good, Chuuya. I’m glad you can hear me. That must’ve been very scary, but I want you to try to keep calm, okay? I’m gonna help you. I’m going to figure out what’s wrong, and try to fix it, alright?”
The door opens then, and a pair of nurses falls inside, looking alert. Outside, there’s a patient bed, pushed up against the wall and waiting to be used.
Gide backs off then, looking at one of the nurses. “I need an emergency CT scan on him. Put my name on it, and tell Tachihara
Gide backs off then, looking at one of the nurses. “I need an emergency CT scan on him. Put my name on it, and tell Tachihara
to bump it up, or he’s gonna answer to me.”
So it’s /serious/, then. Serious enough to have the neurologist using his /privileges/.
Chuuya’s head tilts then. It looks more like he’s too exhausted to keep his head upright anymore than actively moving but—
His eyes find Dazai.
So it’s /serious/, then. Serious enough to have the neurologist using his /privileges/.
Chuuya’s head tilts then. It looks more like he’s too exhausted to keep his head upright anymore than actively moving but—
His eyes find Dazai.
His eyes look simultaneously filled with /agony/ and terror, and also—
Gone. Like /Chuuya/ isn’t really there anymore, it’s just his /body/. Like the seizure put him through so much pain that he’s not /there/ anymore.
Dazai’s heart /breaks/ for him.
Too late, he realizes
Gone. Like /Chuuya/ isn’t really there anymore, it’s just his /body/. Like the seizure put him through so much pain that he’s not /there/ anymore.
Dazai’s heart /breaks/ for him.
Too late, he realizes
he didn’t wipe the horror off his expression, the sheer /terror/ and panic—
Chuuya’s eyes fill with tears. Either reaction to him, or reaction to the situation, or just pure reflex.
Dazai doesn’t know.
He’s moving before he realizes it, crossing over to the examination bed.
Chuuya’s eyes fill with tears. Either reaction to him, or reaction to the situation, or just pure reflex.
Dazai doesn’t know.
He’s moving before he realizes it, crossing over to the examination bed.
His hands are trembling, but the stroke he gives to Chuuya’s cheek is achingly gentle.
“Shh, baby, you’re gonna be alright,” Dazai reassured him mindlessly, unsure of what to /say/ to make this okay. To make /any/ of this look less petrifying and horrifying than it is. “I’m
“Shh, baby, you’re gonna be alright,” Dazai reassured him mindlessly, unsure of what to /say/ to make this okay. To make /any/ of this look less petrifying and horrifying than it is. “I’m
right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chuuya makes a noise, hand twitching like he wants to grab Dazai by the wrist, wants to keep him /close/. Like he’s terrified to let go.
“Alright, Chuuya, we’re going to move you now,” Gide announces, moving back to the bed. He moves like
Chuuya makes a noise, hand twitching like he wants to grab Dazai by the wrist, wants to keep him /close/. Like he’s terrified to let go.
“Alright, Chuuya, we’re going to move you now,” Gide announces, moving back to the bed. He moves like
he’s going to pick Chuuya up—
And then seems to change his mind, looking at Dazai instead and arching his eyebrow in question. An invitation to do it himself.
Dazai takes it gratefully, sliding his hands carefully underneath Chuuya’s body. It’s harder than it usually is,
And then seems to change his mind, looking at Dazai instead and arching his eyebrow in question. An invitation to do it himself.
Dazai takes it gratefully, sliding his hands carefully underneath Chuuya’s body. It’s harder than it usually is,
because Chuuya is /completely/ limp and he wants to be sure he supports his head—
But he manages it.
Every step he takes is /so/ careful,trying his /hardest/ not to jostle Chuuya in the /slightest/.
He feels fragile in his arms.Too light,too hot,too hurt. Like he might break.
But he manages it.
Every step he takes is /so/ careful,trying his /hardest/ not to jostle Chuuya in the /slightest/.
He feels fragile in his arms.Too light,too hot,too hurt. Like he might break.
Setting him down on the stretcher feels like giving a part of himself away. Like he’s leaving the most vulnerable and most /precious/ part of himself in the care of someone /else/ and hoping it comes back whole and healed.
Hoping Chuuya comes back whole and healed.
Hoping Chuuya comes back whole and healed.
He holds onto his leg for as long as possible, before letting his fingers slip away.
The nurses aren't nearly as careful with him, jogging lightly down the hallway and pushing the stretcher in front of them. Dazai watches them go, heart in his throat.
Gide steps up beside him.
The nurses aren't nearly as careful with him, jogging lightly down the hallway and pushing the stretcher in front of them. Dazai watches them go, heart in his throat.
Gide steps up beside him.
His hands are busy pulling his long, shining silver hair into a messy ponytail. His expression is stern.
"What do you think is wrong with him?" Dazai asks. His lips feel strangely numb. His body feels simetaneously electrified and so /distant/. Like this is a dream.
Gide turns
"What do you think is wrong with him?" Dazai asks. His lips feel strangely numb. His body feels simetaneously electrified and so /distant/. Like this is a dream.
Gide turns
to him,and all of that soft, steady concern that he showed Chuuya is /gone/. Now he's just /stern/, like a soldier. "It's too early to tell. Could be a subdural bleed that's been building, could be a clot that was knocked loose from the fall today. Could be undiagnosed epilepsy."
Logically, Dazai knows that the situation /just/ started, and it's unreasonable to expect an answer right away but--
It's /frustrating/ for a medical professional to say he /doesn't know/. It's frustrating to be told he has to /wait/.
"The point is," Gide continues, folding his
It's /frustrating/ for a medical professional to say he /doesn't know/. It's frustrating to be told he has to /wait/.
"The point is," Gide continues, folding his
arms over his chest. His forearms are thick, dusted with silver-gray hair. Flat-footed, he can look Dazai in the eye, which is something not a lot of men can claim. "I won't know what's going on until I get up there and take a look at his brain. And while I do that, I need you to
get your shit together."
Dazai blinks, a bit shocked at the sight of a professional cursing at him in a hospital hallway.
"I recognize that this is scary for you to witness, and it's hard to watch-- but that is /nothing/ compared to the terror and pain Chuuya is feeling right
Dazai blinks, a bit shocked at the sight of a professional cursing at him in a hospital hallway.
"I recognize that this is scary for you to witness, and it's hard to watch-- but that is /nothing/ compared to the terror and pain Chuuya is feeling right
now. He needs you to be strong right now."
It's /harsh/, probably too harsh, but it's the truth. There was a long moment in there when Dazai just /froze/. He wasn't expecting it, and it was understandable--
But showing how /affected/ he was to Chuuya was a rookie mistake.
It's /harsh/, probably too harsh, but it's the truth. There was a long moment in there when Dazai just /froze/. He wasn't expecting it, and it was understandable--
But showing how /affected/ he was to Chuuya was a rookie mistake.
It was cruel, even.
For Chuuya to come looking for support and strength, and only finding /horror/--
His poor /baby/. He must've been so scared.
Taking a deep breath, Dazai steels himself. He can deal with his own emotions later. Right now he needs to be Chuuya's /boyfriend/.
For Chuuya to come looking for support and strength, and only finding /horror/--
His poor /baby/. He must've been so scared.
Taking a deep breath, Dazai steels himself. He can deal with his own emotions later. Right now he needs to be Chuuya's /boyfriend/.
Needs to be his support system, while they all figure out what's going on with him.
He nods, and Gide flashes a grim smirk at him.
"I'll send a nurse to you with his room information when he's admitted. It's gonna be a long night, Dazai-san. Hope you like coffee."
He nods, and Gide flashes a grim smirk at him.
"I'll send a nurse to you with his room information when he's admitted. It's gonna be a long night, Dazai-san. Hope you like coffee."
Gide leaves him to wait in the room as he jogs off, heading in the same direction the nurses took Chuuya.
And then there's just... waiting. Leaning against the door frame and hoping that each nurse that passes by is the one that's looking for him. Waiting to be lead into
And then there's just... waiting. Leaning against the door frame and hoping that each nurse that passes by is the one that's looking for him. Waiting to be lead into
Chuuya's room. Waiting to be told he's /okay/.
Waiting, waiting, waiting, his whole existence hanging in the balance.
Waiting for something to /change/.
Eventually, a nurse /does/ come for him. She's friendly, making casual conversation that he doesn't really respond to as
Waiting, waiting, waiting, his whole existence hanging in the balance.
Waiting for something to /change/.
Eventually, a nurse /does/ come for him. She's friendly, making casual conversation that he doesn't really respond to as
he follows her to the room Chuuya's been admitted to. Fifth floor, A wing, room 158.
He's half-hoping that Chuuya is /there/ when he walks in, but he isn't. The bed is missing, but there's a full array of equipment along the wall ready to be used.
The chairs here are much more
He's half-hoping that Chuuya is /there/ when he walks in, but he isn't. The bed is missing, but there's a full array of equipment along the wall ready to be used.
The chairs here are much more
comfortable than the ones in the waiting room. Dazai drops into one heavily, hunching over and holding his forehead with his heels of his hands.
He resigns himself to the wait.
Time passes strangely in a hospital. Too fast and too slow all at the same time, like a separate
He resigns himself to the wait.
Time passes strangely in a hospital. Too fast and too slow all at the same time, like a separate
reality. A reality that works directly /against/ you, because when you want time to go by /faster/, it slows to a sluggish crawl, each endless tick of the clock stretching out farther and farther.
And just when you're asking for /more/ time--
It's taken away from you. Snatched
And just when you're asking for /more/ time--
It's taken away from you. Snatched
from your hands before you're ready, no matter how hard you cling onto it.
He's not sure how long it's been when there's a bustle of activity outside, and Chuuya gets wheeled in on the bed.
Dazai looks up, eyes strained. He looks so /tiny/ in the bed, weak and small and pale.
He's not sure how long it's been when there's a bustle of activity outside, and Chuuya gets wheeled in on the bed.
Dazai looks up, eyes strained. He looks so /tiny/ in the bed, weak and small and pale.
His eyes are mostly closed, breathing deep. He almost looks asleep, but he moves sluggishly every so often.
Sedated?
Gide comes in shortly after him,watching over the nurses as they start an IV line on him.He waves Dazai over. "I got good news, and I have bad news. Let's talk."
Sedated?
Gide comes in shortly after him,watching over the nurses as they start an IV line on him.He waves Dazai over. "I got good news, and I have bad news. Let's talk."
Dazai loathes the idea of leaving Chuuya in here alone, but his baby is /exhausted/ and he doesn’t want to scare or disturb him with medical talk.
He stands to follow Gide out of the room, taking the time to find Chuuya’s hand and squeeze it reassuringly. The feel of his hand in
He stands to follow Gide out of the room, taking the time to find Chuuya’s hand and squeeze it reassuringly. The feel of his hand in
his is both reassuring and scary. Reassuring because he’s /here/, not being rushed off into emergency surgery or seizing again or whatever Dazai’s terrible imagination can come up with.
Scary, because his hand is clammy and completely limp. Unresponsive.
Leaving the nurse to
Scary, because his hand is clammy and completely limp. Unresponsive.
Leaving the nurse to
get Chuuya hooked up to the various machines, Dazai follows Gide out into the hallway.
He’s lost his lab coat at some point, leaving him in a smart suit. He’s /broad/ and well-toned for a doctor, shirt straining over his shoulders as he shoves his hands in his pockets.
The
He’s lost his lab coat at some point, leaving him in a smart suit. He’s /broad/ and well-toned for a doctor, shirt straining over his shoulders as he shoves his hands in his pockets.
The
room Gide directs him into is halfway down the hallway. It looks like a conference room, or maybe a break room. There’s a large, round table surrounded by chairs and a coffee machine set up near the back wall.
Two people are already sitting at the table, chatting over their cups
Two people are already sitting at the table, chatting over their cups
of coffee. They look like doctors or nurses, in pale blue scrubs with name tags dangling from the collar.
The girls look up when they enter, and their eyes go wide when they see Gide.
“Go back to work, interns. I need this room,” he says, stern, making shooing motions at them.
The girls look up when they enter, and their eyes go wide when they see Gide.
“Go back to work, interns. I need this room,” he says, stern, making shooing motions at them.
The interns scramble out of the room like he threatened their livelihoods.
“Take a seat. Want a cup?” Gide invites, headed straight to the coffee machine. He’s changed his hair at some point, from a messy ponytail to an even messier bun that leaves strands dangling around his
“Take a seat. Want a cup?” Gide invites, headed straight to the coffee machine. He’s changed his hair at some point, from a messy ponytail to an even messier bun that leaves strands dangling around his
shoulders and face. There’s a symbol tattooed on the back of his neck, but Dazai can’t make it out from this angle.
He sits, stretching out his legs under the table. Nerves make his leg bounce anxiously. “Sure. Black, please.”
“Good choice. The cream here sucks.”
Watching him
He sits, stretching out his legs under the table. Nerves make his leg bounce anxiously. “Sure. Black, please.”
“Good choice. The cream here sucks.”
Watching him
make coffee while Chuuya is in his room looking like he’s on deaths door feels /absurd/. It’s like he’s /stalling/.
Dazai’s never been in this situation. He’s never had anyone who was close to him be /sick/ like this. He doesn’t know the protocol.
Should he wait for Gide to
Dazai’s never been in this situation. He’s never had anyone who was close to him be /sick/ like this. He doesn’t know the protocol.
Should he wait for Gide to
start or does he demand answers or does he start /breaking/ things like his temper is telling him?
/Is/ there even a protocol for these types of things or is everyone just winging it?
Before Dazai can decide, a cup of coffee is being placed in front of him. He takes it in hand
/Is/ there even a protocol for these types of things or is everyone just winging it?
Before Dazai can decide, a cup of coffee is being placed in front of him. He takes it in hand
gratefully,eyeing Gide as he settles in a nearby chair.
“So, the CT scans came back clear,” the neurologist says,taking a sip of his coffee and making a disappointed face. He doesn’t stop drinking it though. “I didn’t see any unusual bleeding or clotting, or anything like that.”
“So, the CT scans came back clear,” the neurologist says,taking a sip of his coffee and making a disappointed face. He doesn’t stop drinking it though. “I didn’t see any unusual bleeding or clotting, or anything like that.”
The relief is marred by frustration, because that doesn’t explain /anything/. Obviously there’s still something wrong with Chuuya, and if it wasn’t the fall then what /is/ it?
“That’s a good thing, right? That they were clear?” Dazai asks, taking a sip of his own coffee. It
“That’s a good thing, right? That they were clear?” Dazai asks, taking a sip of his own coffee. It
tastes like crap, burnt and cheap. Typical hospital coffee.
Gide makes a face, like he doesn’t agree with that. “It mostly means we have to keep looking. He did start to panic when he was coming out of the machine. He showed some signs of delirium,” he says, raising a hand to
Gide makes a face, like he doesn’t agree with that. “It mostly means we have to keep looking. He did start to panic when he was coming out of the machine. He showed some signs of delirium,” he says, raising a hand to
his jaw. There’s a red mark there, starkly visible because of how pale the man is. “Your little fiancé packs quite the punch.”
Despite everything, that makes Dazai’s lips pull into a small smile. That’s his /baby/, fierce even when he’s feeling bad.
“I’ve got him sedated to
Despite everything, that makes Dazai’s lips pull into a small smile. That’s his /baby/, fierce even when he’s feeling bad.
“I’ve got him sedated to
keep him calm. He’s scheduled for an MRI as well. That’ll give me a clearer picture of what’s going on. It’s possible there’s some smaller bleeds,clots, maybe encephalitis or abnormal swelling. He should be going up sometime soon,” he continues, looking at the watch on his wrist.
“What if the MRI doesn’t show anything either?” Dazai asks, grip tightening around his cup until it threatens to break.
That’s his worst fear, the one he’s been steadily beating back ever since Chuuya was admitted. Because—
What if it’s not simple? What if it’s something that
That’s his worst fear, the one he’s been steadily beating back ever since Chuuya was admitted. Because—
What if it’s not simple? What if it’s something that
/doesn’t/ havé an easy fix, or something that can’t be cured entirely?
What if this is a major turning point in Chuuya’s life? In his health?
“The next step will be an EEG. There are some tests after that that can be done, and we’ll keep going from there,” Gide answers. His
What if this is a major turning point in Chuuya’s life? In his health?
“The next step will be an EEG. There are some tests after that that can be done, and we’ll keep going from there,” Gide answers. His
eyes are locked on his face, unwavering. It’s not /kindness/ in them, per se, but an unswerving and indomitable strength. Like Dazai can take comfort in the idea that Gide /won’t/ give up on Chuuya.
He lets out another breath, taking another sip of the godawful coffee to give
He lets out another breath, taking another sip of the godawful coffee to give
himself a moment to recover.
When he’s collected and controlled again, negative thoughts carefully stored away, he says, “So you don’t know what’s happening to him?”
A shrug of a broad shoulder, a large coming to rest on the table. “I know what’s /not/ happening to him,” he
When he’s collected and controlled again, negative thoughts carefully stored away, he says, “So you don’t know what’s happening to him?”
A shrug of a broad shoulder, a large coming to rest on the table. “I know what’s /not/ happening to him,” he
answers. “As for what /is/ happening...”
He leans forward then, closing the distance between them. His eyes are /sharp/, and Dazai can practically see the wealth of knowledge stored there.
Dazai is smart, but he’s mostly smart regarding /people/. He’s instinctual, and he can
He leans forward then, closing the distance between them. His eyes are /sharp/, and Dazai can practically see the wealth of knowledge stored there.
Dazai is smart, but he’s mostly smart regarding /people/. He’s instinctual, and he can
suss out motives and reactions to predict people accurately.
On the other hand, /Gide/ looks like he has a textbook of the most complicated,fragile, /important/ piece of the human body memorized.
“That’s where you come in. You’re going to tell me everything you know about him.”
On the other hand, /Gide/ looks like he has a textbook of the most complicated,fragile, /important/ piece of the human body memorized.
“That’s where you come in. You’re going to tell me everything you know about him.”
Well, /shit/. It’s not like Dazai’s completely clueless—he /has/ had a few conversations with Chuuya, and he did look up his medical history once— but he’s not an /expert/. This question would probably be much better answered by his father.
But saying /that/ gives up the ruse of
But saying /that/ gives up the ruse of
pretending to be his fiancé, and will probably get him kicked out of the building. The idea of /not/ knowing what’s happening with Chuuya at /all/ makes him want to scream so—
“I’ll do my best.” He has a good memory. He can point Gide in the right direction.
“Lovely,” Gide
“I’ll do my best.” He has a good memory. He can point Gide in the right direction.
“Lovely,” Gide
says, leaning back in his chair, balancing it on the back two legs effortlessly, “Has Chuuya ever had a seizure before?”
“He had one when he was eleven. Said he got pneumonia pretty badly, and his fever spiked.” Dazai didn’t even /know/ fevers could cause seizures, let alone
“He had one when he was eleven. Said he got pneumonia pretty badly, and his fever spiked.” Dazai didn’t even /know/ fevers could cause seizures, let alone
/pneumonia/.
When Chuuya had described it, it had been... /detached/. Like it happened to someone else, or something he barely remembered and didn’t affect him. Dazai had been sympathetic, but he really hadn’t known how /traumatizing/ a situation like that would be.
Now he’s
When Chuuya had described it, it had been... /detached/. Like it happened to someone else, or something he barely remembered and didn’t affect him. Dazai had been sympathetic, but he really hadn’t known how /traumatizing/ a situation like that would be.
Now he’s
beginning to understand. He can’t even imagine what it would’ve been like for his /father/, to watch his child become frail and helpless and terrifyingly sick.
Gide considers that, taking another sip of coffee. “Has he shown any signs of epileptic activity before? Uncontrollable
Gide considers that, taking another sip of coffee. “Has he shown any signs of epileptic activity before? Uncontrollable
twitching, odd confusion, staring spells, fainting?”
Dazai shakes his head. “No. As far as I’ve seen, he’s been a normal college student. Besides the fainting today.”
“Has any of his family been diagnosed with epilepsy or any autoimmune diseases?”
Admittedly, Dazai doesn’t
Dazai shakes his head. “No. As far as I’ve seen, he’s been a normal college student. Besides the fainting today.”
“Has any of his family been diagnosed with epilepsy or any autoimmune diseases?”
Admittedly, Dazai doesn’t
know /that/ much about his family. He’s been surprisingly reticent about talking about them, and mostly just mentions them in odd stories as “my father” or “my sisters”. He just figured it was a case of the oversheltered child finally getting to experience freedom and. It wanting
to talk about his family.
Dazai understood. He didn’t talk about his family either.
“Not that I’m aware of. He did mention his dad has high blood pressure though.”
“Does hé drink or do drugs?”
“No drugs,” Dazai answers, shaking his head. Chuuya had never seem /opposed/ to
Dazai understood. He didn’t talk about his family either.
“Not that I’m aware of. He did mention his dad has high blood pressure though.”
“Does hé drink or do drugs?”
“No drugs,” Dazai answers, shaking his head. Chuuya had never seem /opposed/ to
drugs on a moral level, he just never seem interested in them. “He drinks a glass or two of wine a night, but nothing excessive.”
Mostly because Dazai doesn’t /let/ it become excessive. Chuuya would drink a bottle for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if he let them.
Gide leans
Mostly because Dazai doesn’t /let/ it become excessive. Chuuya would drink a bottle for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if he let them.
Gide leans
forward again, eyes piercing. “There’s a new drug floating around the colleges lately, doesn’t show up on normal tox screens. I think it’s called DOA, or something? Is there any chance he’s taken that?”
There’s something familiar about that name, like a rat itching at his brain.
There’s something familiar about that name, like a rat itching at his brain.
Chuuya’s never /mentioned/ it though, so either he doesn’t know about it—
Or he was hiding it from Dazai.
“I highly doubt it. He’s never been interested in drugs before.”
Gide squints at him, like he’s trying to tell if he’s /lying/. “Has he been acting erratic the past few
Or he was hiding it from Dazai.
“I highly doubt it. He’s never been interested in drugs before.”
Gide squints at him, like he’s trying to tell if he’s /lying/. “Has he been acting erratic the past few
days?”
That’s hard to answer. Dazai hasn’t seen him since he went back to his dorm, and Chuuya /has/ been unusually quiet and distant—
But that could also just be because he was starting to feel bad. It’s normal to lose social energy when you’re getting sick.
Dazai narrows
That’s hard to answer. Dazai hasn’t seen him since he went back to his dorm, and Chuuya /has/ been unusually quiet and distant—
But that could also just be because he was starting to feel bad. It’s normal to lose social energy when you’re getting sick.
Dazai narrows
his eyes at him. “Why? Does his symptoms line up with the drug?”
“We haven’t pinned down an exact symptom list,” Gide shrugs, “but /some/ have shown neurological symptoms like confusion, fainting. A case like his could be signs of an—“
Dazai cuts him off. “An overdose.”
“We haven’t pinned down an exact symptom list,” Gide shrugs, “but /some/ have shown neurological symptoms like confusion, fainting. A case like his could be signs of an—“
Dazai cuts him off. “An overdose.”
Even /saying/ that word makes Dazai’s veins flash with numbing warmth, remembered pain. He ignores it, scratching absently at the skin of his inner wrist. He’s lucky he wore his bandages today— he’s gotten almost used to not wearing them around Chuuya— but they make his scars
/itch/.
Sometimes, anyway.
He refocuses. “Is that what you think it is? You think it’s an overdose?”
Gide pushes back from the table, taking his empty cup with him. He gestures to Dazai’s cup, silently asking if he wants a refill.
Dazai shakes his head. Honestly, he’d
Sometimes, anyway.
He refocuses. “Is that what you think it is? You think it’s an overdose?”
Gide pushes back from the table, taking his empty cup with him. He gestures to Dazai’s cup, silently asking if he wants a refill.
Dazai shakes his head. Honestly, he’d
rather go downstairs and drink some /Starbucks/ than drink any more of that crap.
Starting to refill his cup, Gide answers, “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying it’s a /possibility/ that I need to be aware of. I’m not ruling anything out or favoring any reason yet.”
Starting to refill his cup, Gide answers, “No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying it’s a /possibility/ that I need to be aware of. I’m not ruling anything out or favoring any reason yet.”
All these ‘it could be /this/ or /that/ or maybe—‘ is setting Dazai’s teeth on edge. He hates not having answers.
“Have you tested him?”
Gide shakes his head, turning to lean back against the coffee desk. When he brings his cup to his mouth, his shirt pulls tightly across his
“Have you tested him?”
Gide shakes his head, turning to lean back against the coffee desk. When he brings his cup to his mouth, his shirt pulls tightly across his
chest. The first button is undone, revealing his throat. “Not yet. I have to take blood for that, and I’m /hesitant/ to draw blood when the kid looks like he hasn’t had a bite to eat or a drop of water in two days. That alone could push him into another seizure, or cause other
problems. The plan is to wait for the MRI results,and if the scans are clean, then I’ll go about testing him.”
God, /more/ waiting.Dazai understands that this visit has probably been comparatively quick compared to most hospital visits, but it’s /agony/ just waiting for results.
God, /more/ waiting.Dazai understands that this visit has probably been comparatively quick compared to most hospital visits, but it’s /agony/ just waiting for results.
It’s been, what— he checks the time on his phone— almost /three/ hours since they checked in.
Not only do they /not/ have answers, they actually just have more questions.
Gide continues his questioning, completely changing the topic. “Has he travelled lately?”
This is
Not only do they /not/ have answers, they actually just have more questions.
Gide continues his questioning, completely changing the topic. “Has he travelled lately?”
This is
starting to feel like an interrogation more than anything else. “We went to Osaka... almost a month ago, for five days.”
God, it feels like so /long/ ago now. So much has happened since then, and so much of their relationship has changed.
Dazai wishes they could go /back/.
God, it feels like so /long/ ago now. So much has happened since then, and so much of their relationship has changed.
Dazai wishes they could go /back/.
Wishes he could rewind time and just—
Not come back. Stay in that hotel forever, where everything was easy and nice and /fun/. No Sasaki to worry about, no Shuuji, no gang issues, no hospital visits.
Just him and Chuuya.
Gide nods, looking thoughtful. Has he visited the
Not come back. Stay in that hotel forever, where everything was easy and nice and /fun/. No Sasaki to worry about, no Shuuji, no gang issues, no hospital visits.
Just him and Chuuya.
Gide nods, looking thoughtful. Has he visited the
countryside lately?”
“No, but his family lives in,” Dazai stalls out because he doesn’t actually /remember/ where his father lives. He’s not sure if Chuuya ever mentioned it, and when he was snooping around his background, he was more interested in /Chuuya’s/ info and not his
“No, but his family lives in,” Dazai stalls out because he doesn’t actually /remember/ where his father lives. He’s not sure if Chuuya ever mentioned it, and when he was snooping around his background, he was more interested in /Chuuya’s/ info and not his
family’s. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember. It’s a rural city though.”
“Any complaints of bug bites or anything bothering him before the past few days?”
“No,” Dazai sighs, resting his cheek on his hand. “He was perfectly fine up until yesterday.”
That’s another terrifying
“Any complaints of bug bites or anything bothering him before the past few days?”
“No,” Dazai sighs, resting his cheek on his hand. “He was perfectly fine up until yesterday.”
That’s another terrifying
realization. How /fast/ this all went.
Chuuya was /fine/ up until yesterday. Or, at least he /seemed/ fine.
And now he’s in a hospital, having seizures and getting his brain scanned.
The realization of how /easy/ it is for the center of Dazai’s happiness to be shaken up and
Chuuya was /fine/ up until yesterday. Or, at least he /seemed/ fine.
And now he’s in a hospital, having seizures and getting his brain scanned.
The realization of how /easy/ it is for the center of Dazai’s happiness to be shaken up and
even taken away from him is—
He doesn’t have words, other than mind-numbingly terrifying. He /just/ found Chuuya and no matter how hard he tries to keep him safe, he might be losing him just as quickly.
Everything he could ever want is inevitably lost. /Always/.
Just then, the
He doesn’t have words, other than mind-numbingly terrifying. He /just/ found Chuuya and no matter how hard he tries to keep him safe, he might be losing him just as quickly.
Everything he could ever want is inevitably lost. /Always/.
Just then, the
door to the conference room opens up. Dazai and Gide look over at the same time.
A redhead is leaning against the doorframe, hair messy. He doesn’t exactly /look/ like a nurse with all the ear piercings and the notch in his eyebrow— but he’s wearing scrubs and holding up a
A redhead is leaning against the doorframe, hair messy. He doesn’t exactly /look/ like a nurse with all the ear piercings and the notch in his eyebrow— but he’s wearing scrubs and holding up a
orange postage envelope.
“Brought you those MRI images you ordered. I know you like to have them /hand-delivered/,” the guy drawls, a hint of a scoff in his voice.
Gide’s face melts into a beaming smile, turning him from stern neurologist to charming man. “Merci beaucoup, mon
“Brought you those MRI images you ordered. I know you like to have them /hand-delivered/,” the guy drawls, a hint of a scoff in his voice.
Gide’s face melts into a beaming smile, turning him from stern neurologist to charming man. “Merci beaucoup, mon
amour,” he practically /purrs/, gesturing for the redhead to come over. “You always know /exactly/ what I like.”
Dazai turns back to his coffee, fighting back a snort as Gide blatantly flirts with the nurse.
Maybe Grey’s Anatomy wasn’t so ridiculous, after all.
There’s a
Dazai turns back to his coffee, fighting back a snort as Gide blatantly flirts with the nurse.
Maybe Grey’s Anatomy wasn’t so ridiculous, after all.
There’s a
fondly irritated sigh, and then the redhead is padding over to hand him the envelope.
Gide takes it with a charmingly grateful smile, tilting his head to the coffee bar in question.
The redhead huffs. “I know you think you’re /special/, but I’ve got four more MRI’s this hour.
Gide takes it with a charmingly grateful smile, tilting his head to the coffee bar in question.
The redhead huffs. “I know you think you’re /special/, but I’ve got four more MRI’s this hour.
Im not sticking around to /chat/.”
Gide sighs in disappointment, his gaze /clearly/ fixed on an /interesting/ part of the redhead’s anatomy as he turns around and heads back to the door. “I’ve got the best hands in this building, Tachihara, you know that.”
There’s a /clear/
Gide sighs in disappointment, his gaze /clearly/ fixed on an /interesting/ part of the redhead’s anatomy as he turns around and heads back to the door. “I’ve got the best hands in this building, Tachihara, you know that.”
There’s a /clear/
innuendo there that has Dazai taking a sip of his coffee loudly. He is /not/ involved in this case of sexual harassment, whether it’s consensual or not.
“I’m /very/ special, and you wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t.”
“Whatever you say, Gide,” the redhead calls out, waving a hand
“I’m /very/ special, and you wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t.”
“Whatever you say, Gide,” the redhead calls out, waving a hand
as he exits.
“I’ll visit you later, give you my thanks for the rush order,” Gide says loudly after him. Putting his coffee down, he goes about opening the envelope.
Dazai arches a disbelieving eyebrow at him, amused by the /audacity/ of that while scene.
“Don’t judge me,”
“I’ll visit you later, give you my thanks for the rush order,” Gide says loudly after him. Putting his coffee down, he goes about opening the envelope.
Dazai arches a disbelieving eyebrow at him, amused by the /audacity/ of that while scene.
“Don’t judge me,”
the neurologist huffs, pulling out a paper thin sheet of black translucent paper, “/you’ve/ got a fiancé who is eighteen years old, and I know /damn/ well you’re nowhere your teens.”
Dazai puts his eyebrow away. Yeah, he’s got him there.
Gide holds the images up to the light.
Dazai puts his eyebrow away. Yeah, he’s got him there.
Gide holds the images up to the light.
Dazai can see through the back of them, and he can make out the shapes of what has to be Chuuya’s /brain/.
It just looks like organized noodles to him, but it’s /fascinating/ that something so small and fragile is the center of human existence. How everything in the /world/
It just looks like organized noodles to him, but it’s /fascinating/ that something so small and fragile is the center of human existence. How everything in the /world/
somehow comes back to that small mound of electric jello. The brain invented /everything/ and even though it is fragile and needs to be taken care of—
It’s also surprisingly resilient.
Dazai watches, anxiety building, as Gide tilts the images back and forth, comparing the
It’s also surprisingly resilient.
Dazai watches, anxiety building, as Gide tilts the images back and forth, comparing the
half-dozen images on the paper. There’s a slight frown growing between his eyebrows, making him nervous.
If he doesn’t see what’s wrong, that can’t be good, right? If he’s not /finding/ anything then that means they still don’t know what’s going on.
Raising his hand, Gide
If he doesn’t see what’s wrong, that can’t be good, right? If he’s not /finding/ anything then that means they still don’t know what’s going on.
Raising his hand, Gide
uses the end of his pinkie to compare something on two different parts of the brain.
Then his frown breaks on a grin.
“Ah, there it is,” he says, using his other hand to pull out the phone in his pocket.
Dazai leans forward, heart rate spiking. “What?”
Gide waves him off
Then his frown breaks on a grin.
“Ah, there it is,” he says, using his other hand to pull out the phone in his pocket.
Dazai leans forward, heart rate spiking. “What?”
Gide waves him off
with the MRI images, speed-dialing a number on his phone. When it starts to ring, he puts it to his ear.
“Yes, hello— it /is/ me, I’m so glad you recognized my voice. Do me a favor, love, and start A5158 on a round of Acyclovir. Cortisone too, please. Thank you /so/ much, Hara,
“Yes, hello— it /is/ me, I’m so glad you recognized my voice. Do me a favor, love, and start A5158 on a round of Acyclovir. Cortisone too, please. Thank you /so/ much, Hara,
I knew I could count on you.”
The /moment/ he hangs up, Dazai is snapping, “What? What is it?”
“Encephalitis. Pretty bad case of it too. I’m surprised the CT didn’t pick it up,” Gide says, carefully sliding the image sheet back into its envelope. “Poor kid. No wonder his head
The /moment/ he hangs up, Dazai is snapping, “What? What is it?”
“Encephalitis. Pretty bad case of it too. I’m surprised the CT didn’t pick it up,” Gide says, carefully sliding the image sheet back into its envelope. “Poor kid. No wonder his head
hurt.”
What the fuck is /encephalitis/? It sounds like an /STD/?!
Gide must see his confusion because he explains. “Basically his brain is swelling. He didn’t have any more room in his skull, so his brain was starting to crush itself under the pressure. I haven’t seen a case
What the fuck is /encephalitis/? It sounds like an /STD/?!
Gide must see his confusion because he explains. “Basically his brain is swelling. He didn’t have any more room in his skull, so his brain was starting to crush itself under the pressure. I haven’t seen a case
this bad since— well, med school.”
Finally, /finally/, Dazai feels like he can take an unobstructed breath. The lingering panic and anxiety cinched around his chest finally begins to ease.
God, he’s going to be /okay/. Chuuya’s going to be /okay/.
“I just ordered him an
Finally, /finally/, Dazai feels like he can take an unobstructed breath. The lingering panic and anxiety cinched around his chest finally begins to ease.
God, he’s going to be /okay/. Chuuya’s going to be /okay/.
“I just ordered him an
anti-inflammatory and an anti-viral. That will ease the swelling in his brain and hopefully knock out whatever is causing the swelling.”
Dazai could /kiss/ him right now, and if he wasn’t happily taken, he might have actually done so.
“So it was just a virus that caused it?”
Dazai could /kiss/ him right now, and if he wasn’t happily taken, he might have actually done so.
“So it was just a virus that caused it?”
Gide makes a /face/ again. “Well, the tricky thing with encephalitis is that /most/ of the time, we don’t know what caused it. Viral encephalitis is the most common, so the anti-viral is the common treatment. If that doesn’t work, then we will move onto the other treatments until
we find the one that /does/.”
How do you go to medical school for /ten/ years, and not know what makes a brain swell to bursting? That doesn’t make /any/ sense to Dazai, and the ‘we’ll just keep trying treatments!’ sounds /risky/.
But he’s not a neurologist, so he doesn’t
How do you go to medical school for /ten/ years, and not know what makes a brain swell to bursting? That doesn’t make /any/ sense to Dazai, and the ‘we’ll just keep trying treatments!’ sounds /risky/.
But he’s not a neurologist, so he doesn’t
argue. He does have two more questions though. “So it wasn’t the fall the caused it?”
Out of /all/ the fear he’s experienced today— and he’s experienced a /lot/, much more than he even knew was possible— that was the most insidious one.
That this was /his/ fault and that this
Out of /all/ the fear he’s experienced today— and he’s experienced a /lot/, much more than he even knew was possible— that was the most insidious one.
That this was /his/ fault and that this
could’ve all been avoided if he’d just—
If he’s been smarter. If he’s been /better/. If he’s listened to his /instincts/ and forced Chuuya to get checked out that day.
“My professional medical opinion is that you should always see a doctor after any sort of head trauma,” Gide
If he’s been smarter. If he’s been /better/. If he’s listened to his /instincts/ and forced Chuuya to get checked out that day.
“My professional medical opinion is that you should always see a doctor after any sort of head trauma,” Gide
recites, like it’s a line that’s been drilled into his head, then hesitates.
When he speaks again, his voice is softer. Kinder, more understanding. Sympathetic. “But my /personal/ opinion is that it was probably a good thing he hadn’t been seen yet. If he had and trauma had been
When he speaks again, his voice is softer. Kinder, more understanding. Sympathetic. “But my /personal/ opinion is that it was probably a good thing he hadn’t been seen yet. If he had and trauma had been
ruled out, he could’ve been diagnosed with the flu and sent home. It would’ve taken much longer for me to get his case, because the nurses would not have thought it was neurological. He could’ve gotten a lot worse in that time.”
That... does make Dazai feel better, a little bit.
That... does make Dazai feel better, a little bit.
Even if it’s /unintentional/, he did help Chuuya in a way.
“Besides, there’s a /lot/ of reasons this could’ve happened. I don’t think it’s directly related to the fall— so don’t feel too bad, alright? You did the best you could.”
Dazai nods, forcing himself to take some heart
“Besides, there’s a /lot/ of reasons this could’ve happened. I don’t think it’s directly related to the fall— so don’t feel too bad, alright? You did the best you could.”
Dazai nods, forcing himself to take some heart
from that. It’s hard to feel /okay/ when there’s a roiling, writhing ball of emotion in his chest— a lot of which feels like /guilt/— but he’s starting to. A little.
And then his next question, the most important one:
“Chuuya’s going to okay, right? He’s going to recover fine?”
And then his next question, the most important one:
“Chuuya’s going to okay, right? He’s going to recover fine?”
The silence after that question is long and pained. Gide stares at him for a long moment,arms crossed over his chest.
His expression has returned to professional blankness, a bad omen.
"It's too early to say. He's young and in good health, so the /hope/ is that he will recover
His expression has returned to professional blankness, a bad omen.
"It's too early to say. He's young and in good health, so the /hope/ is that he will recover
easily and quickly, with no lingering after effects."
That sounds good-- so why does Gide look so /grim/?
"However," he continues, voice slowing, "There /has/ been cognitive dysfunction in some cases. Particularly the severe ones."
He said Chuuya's case was the most severe
That sounds good-- so why does Gide look so /grim/?
"However," he continues, voice slowing, "There /has/ been cognitive dysfunction in some cases. Particularly the severe ones."
He said Chuuya's case was the most severe
he'd seen since med school so that would mean--
"What /kind/ of cognitive dysfunction?" He can't help but ask, morbid curiosity welling up. He doesn't /want/ to know, but he feels like he /has/ to.
He owes it to Chuuya to be prepared if--
If he's going to be /cognitively
"What /kind/ of cognitive dysfunction?" He can't help but ask, morbid curiosity welling up. He doesn't /want/ to know, but he feels like he /has/ to.
He owes it to Chuuya to be prepared if--
If he's going to be /cognitively
impaired/.
"Again, I want to stress that it is /too soon/ to tell. It hasn't even been an hour yet, and behavioral changes immediately after is normal."
When Dazai's gaze doesn't waver, Gide sighs and continues:
"Things that mood changes, speech impairment, memory issues and
"Again, I want to stress that it is /too soon/ to tell. It hasn't even been an hour yet, and behavioral changes immediately after is normal."
When Dazai's gaze doesn't waver, Gide sighs and continues:
"Things that mood changes, speech impairment, memory issues and
other issues have all been recorded."
Dazai's head drops into his hands. Every fucking time he gets a /little/ hope, it just gets taken away from him again. To think that Chuuya might be irrevocably changed by this is--
"I don't want you to think about that. Right now, what you
Dazai's head drops into his hands. Every fucking time he gets a /little/ hope, it just gets taken away from him again. To think that Chuuya might be irrevocably changed by this is--
"I don't want you to think about that. Right now, what you
both need to focus on is his recovery. We'll keep him overnight for observation and if his symptoms have improved enough by discharge tomorrow, then you can take him home."
So /soon/? Shouldn't he be kept in the hospital for a few days, at least? He just had a /seizure/ and
So /soon/? Shouldn't he be kept in the hospital for a few days, at least? He just had a /seizure/ and
encephalitis.
"When you get back into his room, he'll probably be asleep. That's normal. Unless you have any other questions, I'll come check on him tomorrow morning," Gide says, pushing himself off the coffee table to stand fully.
At the moment, Dazai's head is so full with
"When you get back into his room, he'll probably be asleep. That's normal. Unless you have any other questions, I'll come check on him tomorrow morning," Gide says, pushing himself off the coffee table to stand fully.
At the moment, Dazai's head is so full with
news and diagnoses and information and /emotion/, that he can't really think past the driving need to see Chuuya again.
To see him with his own eyes, to verify his health for himself. Hopefully, to watch him get /better/.
He's sure he'll have questions later but not right now.
To see him with his own eyes, to verify his health for himself. Hopefully, to watch him get /better/.
He's sure he'll have questions later but not right now.
Right /now/, he just wants his baby.
"I'll have some for you later," Dazai says, shaking his head. He stands up, disposing of his half-empty coffee cup into the trash near the coffee table.
Gide looks at his watch again. It's heavy and silver, a complement to his hair. He
"I'll have some for you later," Dazai says, shaking his head. He stands up, disposing of his half-empty coffee cup into the trash near the coffee table.
Gide looks at his watch again. It's heavy and silver, a complement to his hair. He
probably has other appointments and patients to get to. He seems like a busy man.
"Alright-- if you need anything, just let the nurse know. They'll help you out, or they'll come find me," Gide says, pushing off the table and following behind him as he leaves the conference room.
"Alright-- if you need anything, just let the nurse know. They'll help you out, or they'll come find me," Gide says, pushing off the table and following behind him as he leaves the conference room.
Dazai waves a hand in acknowledgement. "Thank you."
There's /so/ much he feels he should be thanking the doctor for. Taking Chuuya's symptoms seriously, working quickly to figure out what was going on, keeping Dazai informed. He knows this is his job but--
Chuuya is /important/
There's /so/ much he feels he should be thanking the doctor for. Taking Chuuya's symptoms seriously, working quickly to figure out what was going on, keeping Dazai informed. He knows this is his job but--
Chuuya is /important/
to him, and Gide helped him when Dazai couldn't.
"No problem," Gide says, clapping a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "Now go to him."
That is no hardship.
Thankfully, Chuuya's room isn't far away, just down the hall. Dazai nearly jogs down there, heart beating in his
"No problem," Gide says, clapping a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "Now go to him."
That is no hardship.
Thankfully, Chuuya's room isn't far away, just down the hall. Dazai nearly jogs down there, heart beating in his
throat.
There’s a part of Dazai— likely always /will/ be a part of him, trauma memories entangled so deeply inside him he’ll be able to separate /him/ from what happened to him— that is fully convinced that Chuuya will disappear the moment he takes his eyes off him. Like he’s a
There’s a part of Dazai— likely always /will/ be a part of him, trauma memories entangled so deeply inside him he’ll be able to separate /him/ from what happened to him— that is fully convinced that Chuuya will disappear the moment he takes his eyes off him. Like he’s a
ghost that only exists because Dazai is looking at him, or something fragile that is only safe when it’s at the center of his attention.
Like his parents, who were there one minute—
And forever gone the next.
It’s like a paranoid itching at the back of his mind, a constant
Like his parents, who were there one minute—
And forever gone the next.
It’s like a paranoid itching at the back of his mind, a constant
voice in the back of his head, like the scratching nails of a child on a door. / Where is he, where is he, where IS HE—?/
Dazai’s gotten pretty adept at pushing down the reactions he /doesn’t/ like, the thoughts he doesn’t enjoy. It’s more forceful ignorance than a real coping
Dazai’s gotten pretty adept at pushing down the reactions he /doesn’t/ like, the thoughts he doesn’t enjoy. It’s more forceful ignorance than a real coping
method but it /works/ for him. At least enough that he can function well above it, like he’s not traumatized at all.
Still, it never goes away. And it’s only /soothed/ when Chuuya comes back into view.
Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, Dazai just...watches him for a
Still, it never goes away. And it’s only /soothed/ when Chuuya comes back into view.
Leaning his shoulder against the doorframe, Dazai just...watches him for a
while.
He’s /small/ in the bed, fragile and pale. His eyes are closed firmly, and his breath is even, so he’s probably asleep just like Gide said. His hair is spread out on the pillow, and Dazai can see the tangles from here.
At some point, he’d changed into a hospital gown.
He’s /small/ in the bed, fragile and pale. His eyes are closed firmly, and his breath is even, so he’s probably asleep just like Gide said. His hair is spread out on the pillow, and Dazai can see the tangles from here.
At some point, he’d changed into a hospital gown.
It’s big on him, and the collar is sliding off his shoulder. His collarbone looks more sharply defined than usual, sparking another flash of concern.
He loses weight so /quickly/, and he’s been on a steady downhill ever since Dazai’s met him. It’s like the stress of college and
He loses weight so /quickly/, and he’s been on a steady downhill ever since Dazai’s met him. It’s like the stress of college and
life is just slowly draining him, no matter how much Dazai feeds him.
There’s an IV pole standing beside his bed, sporting three different bags. The medicine Gide ordered, and assumingly a bag of saline or nutrients.
They’re being fed into an IV that is taped to Chuuya’s
There’s an IV pole standing beside his bed, sporting three different bags. The medicine Gide ordered, and assumingly a bag of saline or nutrients.
They’re being fed into an IV that is taped to Chuuya’s
hand.
The sight makes Dazai wince. The hand ones /always/ hurt. He had one once, when he was recovering from another attempt in Mori’s infirmary, and Mori couldn’t find a vein in his arm.
It felt like ice was being slowly pumped into the bones of his hand, painfully cold.
The sight makes Dazai wince. The hand ones /always/ hurt. He had one once, when he was recovering from another attempt in Mori’s infirmary, and Mori couldn’t find a vein in his arm.
It felt like ice was being slowly pumped into the bones of his hand, painfully cold.
Even he, someone who had deliberately pushed his pain threshold to it’s limits /many/ times, was irritated and uncomfortable by it.
He moves to his side, drawn in by his presence, moth to loving flame. The chairs by the wall aren’t secured to the floor, so he drags one over to
He moves to his side, drawn in by his presence, moth to loving flame. The chairs by the wall aren’t secured to the floor, so he drags one over to
his bedside. Most of the equipment is settled on the left, closer to the door, so Dazai settles in on the right.
He’s careful as he slides his hand under Chuuya’s. This one doesn’t have an IV, but it’s still limp and pale. A little clammy. So /small/ compared to his, fingers
He’s careful as he slides his hand under Chuuya’s. This one doesn’t have an IV, but it’s still limp and pale. A little clammy. So /small/ compared to his, fingers
short and delicate. His nails /were/ filed and clean, but they’ve become a little worse for wear over the past few days.
Chuuya stirs when Dazai squeezes his hand lightly, eyebrows drawing down in a frown.
Dazai holds his breath, waiting to see if he’s going to wake up—
Chuuya stirs when Dazai squeezes his hand lightly, eyebrows drawing down in a frown.
Dazai holds his breath, waiting to see if he’s going to wake up—
He doesn’t.
Instead, he lets out a tiny, irritated huff and turns his face away.
Dazai smiles at that. For a morning person, he’s always been adorably grumpy when he’s waking up. Always huffing and pouting and pulling at Dazai if he tries to get up.
By now, it’s almost dark.
Instead, he lets out a tiny, irritated huff and turns his face away.
Dazai smiles at that. For a morning person, he’s always been adorably grumpy when he’s waking up. Always huffing and pouting and pulling at Dazai if he tries to get up.
By now, it’s almost dark.
He can see the sunset vaguely through the window, spilling orange-red rays of light into the room.
Something occurs to him then, so he pulls out his phone with his free hand. Opening up the messaging app, he shoots the neighbor girl, Naomi, a text asking if she can let the dogs
Something occurs to him then, so he pulls out his phone with his free hand. Opening up the messaging app, he shoots the neighbor girl, Naomi, a text asking if she can let the dogs
outside and feed them dinner. He doesn’t want to leave Chuuya’s side, but he also doesn’t want to force Yoko and Kozo to go hungry for the night.
It’s a Friday, so hopefully she won’t be too busy. She’s still in high school, and her parents are strict, so he doesn’t expect her
It’s a Friday, so hopefully she won’t be too busy. She’s still in high school, and her parents are strict, so he doesn’t expect her
to be out at a party or something.
Ten minutes later, he gets a text in agreement. Awesome. He thanks her, giving her the location of the house key he stores outside. He changes the location every week, just in case.
Then, with nothing left to do but wait until Chuuya wakes up
Ten minutes later, he gets a text in agreement. Awesome. He thanks her, giving her the location of the house key he stores outside. He changes the location every week, just in case.
Then, with nothing left to do but wait until Chuuya wakes up
— even if Dazai /was/ tired, which he’s not, he’s actually /wired/, hopped up on lingering adrenaline and even if his insomnia would let him sleep, there’s no way his survival instincts would let him sleep in such a public and defenseless place— Dazai starts to comb through
Chuuya’s hair with his fingers.
He’s always been very particular about his hair. Doesn’t like when it’s tangled or when it’s frizzy. Which is kind of a /problem/ considering how damn thick it is, and how easy it is for the curls to get tangled together.
He /also/ doesn’t like
He’s always been very particular about his hair. Doesn’t like when it’s tangled or when it’s frizzy. Which is kind of a /problem/ considering how damn thick it is, and how easy it is for the curls to get tangled together.
He /also/ doesn’t like
to wash it too often or use a comb on it when it’s not wet. Dazai’s watched him brush through his hair for an /hour/ rather than just pick up a comb and ruin the shape of the curls.
It’s tangled now, knotted to the back of his head.Probably from the seizure and the panic attack.
It’s tangled now, knotted to the back of his head.Probably from the seizure and the panic attack.
Honestly, Dazai doesn't get it. His own hair is washed nearly every day, and it hasn't been long enough to need a comb in a long while.
But he /does/ respect that Chuuya likes his hair a certain way, and it gives him something to do so--
He pulls all the knots out slowly. He's
But he /does/ respect that Chuuya likes his hair a certain way, and it gives him something to do so--
He pulls all the knots out slowly. He's
careful never to pull too hard, and whenever his fingers get caught, he pulls them out and slowly pulls the knot free. It takes a long while, slowly working his way up from the bottom and teasing the tangles out.
Chuuya must've washed his hair recently. It's soft, plush with
Chuuya must've washed his hair recently. It's soft, plush with
volume and shiny. It's almost /alive/, playful curls wrapping around his fingers, looking like fire in the light.
The sight makes him smile. There's some things about Chuuya that just seem /otherworldly/.
Time passes like that, cradling Chuuya's hand in one hand and
The sight makes him smile. There's some things about Chuuya that just seem /otherworldly/.
Time passes like that, cradling Chuuya's hand in one hand and
absentmindedly coming through his hair with the other. With the rhythmic beeps of the machines, it's easy to get lost in the flow of things. Hours slip by, and the hospital doesn't change.
Then Chuuya moves.
Dazai looks up, blinking himself back into alertness. He'd been mostly
Then Chuuya moves.
Dazai looks up, blinking himself back into alertness. He'd been mostly
zoned out, eyes locked on the doorway, turning the situation over in his head again and again.
Chuuya stirs again, eyebrows bunching together in a frown. His head tosses, eyes squeezed shut. A muffled whimper escapes him, strained and low.
Nightmare? Or is he in pain again?
Chuuya stirs again, eyebrows bunching together in a frown. His head tosses, eyes squeezed shut. A muffled whimper escapes him, strained and low.
Nightmare? Or is he in pain again?
Should he call the nurse? Chuuya still doesn't look like he's waking up and he /is/ prone to nightmares so--
He'll try something else first.
Climbing into the bed with him is a careful process. He has to avoid pulling on all the tubes and wires connected to him as he slides his
He'll try something else first.
Climbing into the bed with him is a careful process. He has to avoid pulling on all the tubes and wires connected to him as he slides his
arm under his head.
Instinctually, or perhaps because he recognizes him even in his sleep, Chuuya curls into him. His head finds his chest, leaning into him and using his frame to block out the harsh lighting. The hand that Dazai was holding is now resting on his stomach.
It's
Instinctually, or perhaps because he recognizes him even in his sleep, Chuuya curls into him. His head finds his chest, leaning into him and using his frame to block out the harsh lighting. The hand that Dazai was holding is now resting on his stomach.
It's
uncomfortable for Dazai. He has to curl up his legs awkwardly to fit on the bed, and there's only /one/ pillow which is already being used by Chuuya, so his back has no support whatsoever as he curls over Chuuya.
But Chuuya quiets down, and the frown on his face melts away. It's
But Chuuya quiets down, and the frown on his face melts away. It's
replaced by a peaceful smile, small and light.
It's worth every second of discomfort.
At some point, a nurse comes in to check on Chuuya. She eyes Dazai disapprovingly, but doesn't say anything as she silently takes down his vitals.
She doesn't seem too concerned and leaves
It's worth every second of discomfort.
At some point, a nurse comes in to check on Chuuya. She eyes Dazai disapprovingly, but doesn't say anything as she silently takes down his vitals.
She doesn't seem too concerned and leaves
quickly, so that must be a good sign, right? If she's not scrambling or calling the other nurses, then Chuuya is doing better, right?
It's so /hard/ to just wait and draw conclusions from the barest hints of what he's seeing and hearing.
But he's still sleeping, and it's been
It's so /hard/ to just wait and draw conclusions from the barest hints of what he's seeing and hearing.
But he's still sleeping, and it's been
hours since he was sedated and the medicine was administered, so--
That's good, right?
Not having any answers at all is terrifying in itself; but having the answers and waiting to see if the solution is working is anxiety inducing. Like waiting for the results of the most
That's good, right?
Not having any answers at all is terrifying in itself; but having the answers and waiting to see if the solution is working is anxiety inducing. Like waiting for the results of the most
important test of your life.
Dazai tucks his arm along Chuuya's back, tugging him close into the curve of his body. It feels like the fever has gone down somewhat. He's /warm/ against him, but not blisteringly hot anymore.
The sheet on the hospital is light and scratchy, but
Dazai tucks his arm along Chuuya's back, tugging him close into the curve of his body. It feels like the fever has gone down somewhat. He's /warm/ against him, but not blisteringly hot anymore.
The sheet on the hospital is light and scratchy, but
Dazai draws it up anyways,tucking it tightly underneath Chuuya's arm. His hand has to stay out of the blanket, but he makes sure to cover the rest of him.
You're supposed to keep someone with a fever warm, right? Dazai has never actually taken care of someone ho was sick before.
You're supposed to keep someone with a fever warm, right? Dazai has never actually taken care of someone ho was sick before.
He’s only taken care of /himself/— and his method of care was to just pop a hydrocodone and disassociate until he felt better.
Yosano got the flu once when they were in the Mafia, and he showed up with a bottle of liquor to ‘cure her’. She tried to break it over his head.
Yosano got the flu once when they were in the Mafia, and he showed up with a bottle of liquor to ‘cure her’. She tried to break it over his head.
Needless to say, Dazai is completely and utterly out of his depth. He’s assuming, based on the way Gide was talking, that Chuuya will need quite a bit of care and support so he can recover from this successfully.
Chuuya can’t be trusted to take care of /himself/ the way he needs
Chuuya can’t be trusted to take care of /himself/ the way he needs
to be, so Dazai will make sure he does.
He likes the idea of taking care of him.Makes a drop of warmth swell up inside him.
He might be out of his league and unprepared—
But he’s resourceful, he’s /smart/ and he has access to the most valuable resource on the planet:
Google.
He likes the idea of taking care of him.Makes a drop of warmth swell up inside him.
He might be out of his league and unprepared—
But he’s resourceful, he’s /smart/ and he has access to the most valuable resource on the planet:
Google.
Does the act of googling “how to care for a sick person” and “how to lower a fever” and “encephalitis after care” and “how to help nausea” make him feel a little stupid?
Absolutely.
But it’s also 2am so he can’t text Yosano for advice without pissing her off. It isn’t an
Absolutely.
But it’s also 2am so he can’t text Yosano for advice without pissing her off. It isn’t an
emergency so he can’t call Gide. The neurologist probably wouldn’t appreciate getting drilled with aftercare questions in the middle of the night. He’ll ask when he comes to check on Chuuya in the morning.
Right now, all Dazai has himself and his access to the internet. He’s
Right now, all Dazai has himself and his access to the internet. He’s
determined to make sure Chuuya recovers without any lasting negative affects.
He’ll do whatever it takes.
Chuuya /will/ be safe and he /will/ be perfectly healthy.
(He won’t.)
—————— +
If you asked Nikolai how he got to this point in life, he would not be able to answer.
He’ll do whatever it takes.
Chuuya /will/ be safe and he /will/ be perfectly healthy.
(He won’t.)
—————— +
If you asked Nikolai how he got to this point in life, he would not be able to answer.
He could give you the sequence of /events/:
He’s the second son of a mid-class family in Moscow. His mother is a teacher and a midwife; his father works for the Russian Bratva.
So does his elder brother. Or /did/, anyways.
Nikolai himself was a small child, always hovering
He’s the second son of a mid-class family in Moscow. His mother is a teacher and a midwife; his father works for the Russian Bratva.
So does his elder brother. Or /did/, anyways.
Nikolai himself was a small child, always hovering
on the edge of bad health, and never serious. He never needed to be, because he was the second son, and so he was considered the /spare/.
It was Sigma who needed to make the family proud, to bring them honor and money. Nikolai was expected to follow in his fathers footsteps, but
It was Sigma who needed to make the family proud, to bring them honor and money. Nikolai was expected to follow in his fathers footsteps, but
it wasn’t /necessary/.
So as he grew up and he decided he wanted to go to college instead of joining the Bratva, it was a shock to his family.
But it wasn’t /terrible/. His mother understood. His father was /mean/, but well—
That man was always mean. It didn’t matter what the
So as he grew up and he decided he wanted to go to college instead of joining the Bratva, it was a shock to his family.
But it wasn’t /terrible/. His mother understood. His father was /mean/, but well—
That man was always mean. It didn’t matter what the
reason was, he always found a reason to be angry about something.
Then Sigma and his father died. His mother was stricken with grief and spent many days mourning her lost son and husband. And Nikolai—
Well, he was the man of the house now, and it wasn’t a shock to learn that
Then Sigma and his father died. His mother was stricken with grief and spent many days mourning her lost son and husband. And Nikolai—
Well, he was the man of the house now, and it wasn’t a shock to learn that
his father had racked up quite the debt with the Bratva during drinking games.
There was only one option left: join the Bratva or leave his mother to waste away in the cold, grieving and hungry.
In the end, he /did/ go to college—
But it’s a pretense. A /cover/. A /job/.
There was only one option left: join the Bratva or leave his mother to waste away in the cold, grieving and hungry.
In the end, he /did/ go to college—
But it’s a pretense. A /cover/. A /job/.
It was supposed to be easy. Being placed in the college, near the center of Mafia territory, and just soak up all the information he could find to relate back to Fyodor.
Become friends with Shuuji.
He rolls the pills in hand, purple-black. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Become friends with Shuuji.
He rolls the pills in hand, purple-black. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
The problem was he /liked/ Chuuya. Genuinely liked him.
He was kind, and understanding, and he never made Nikolai feel strange or weird. He never pried too deeply into his life, respecting Nikolai’s boundaries in a way he hasn’t really expected before.
Once, some of the other
He was kind, and understanding, and he never made Nikolai feel strange or weird. He never pried too deeply into his life, respecting Nikolai’s boundaries in a way he hasn’t really expected before.
Once, some of the other
students had been making fun of Nikolai’s accented Japanese, and Chuuya had nearly started a /brawl/ in the campus courtyard in defending him.
Nikolai liked Yuan too, and Shuuji was his /job/, but Chuuya—
Chuuya was never supposed to be involved. Chuuya was his /friend/.
Nikolai liked Yuan too, and Shuuji was his /job/, but Chuuya—
Chuuya was never supposed to be involved. Chuuya was his /friend/.
Naturally, with Nikolai’s luck, that ended up with Chuuya somehow getting /romantically/ and emotionally involved with probably the worst person Nikolai could imagine. He’d /tried/ to warn him off without revealing too much of his /job/— because if Chuuya knew about that, then a
whole other slew of problems would be created— but the guy was /stubborn/ and blind when it came to Dazai.
And then Fyodor had found out, somehow. Nikolai had /barely/ escaped punishment by claiming he hadn’t /known/ about the relationship—
But he did know. That was the first
And then Fyodor had found out, somehow. Nikolai had /barely/ escaped punishment by claiming he hadn’t /known/ about the relationship—
But he did know. That was the first
time he’d lied to Fyodor /ever/.
And then his job became to watch /Chuuya/.
It was hard because it wasn’t like he had the /option/ of refusing or lying. Fyodor could kill him if he wanted, and then his mother would have no one.
But every scrap of information he gave to him
And then his job became to watch /Chuuya/.
It was hard because it wasn’t like he had the /option/ of refusing or lying. Fyodor could kill him if he wanted, and then his mother would have no one.
But every scrap of information he gave to him
about Chuuya felt like betrayal.
He was glad when Chuuya disappeared for days or a week at a time, because that meant he didn’t /know/ what was happening. He could tell Fyodor he hadn’t seen or spoken to him, not for lack of trying, and that was it.
And then the order came.
He was glad when Chuuya disappeared for days or a week at a time, because that meant he didn’t /know/ what was happening. He could tell Fyodor he hadn’t seen or spoken to him, not for lack of trying, and that was it.
And then the order came.
Fyodor wanted him to /dose/ Chuuya with the drug he was manufacturing, without his knowledge.
Nikolai didn’t know what the pills did. It wasn’t his place to know. All he knew was that it was probably going to according to Fyodor’s plan because the boss had been in a /very/ good
Nikolai didn’t know what the pills did. It wasn’t his place to know. All he knew was that it was probably going to according to Fyodor’s plan because the boss had been in a /very/ good
mood lately.
He’d fucked him /twice/ this week, which is completely out of character. Falling into bed with the boss was a /privilege/, and he treated it like one. He only let the /prettiest/ people or the subordinates he was /most/ pleased with get a taste of his cock.
He’d fucked him /twice/ this week, which is completely out of character. Falling into bed with the boss was a /privilege/, and he treated it like one. He only let the /prettiest/ people or the subordinates he was /most/ pleased with get a taste of his cock.
And Nikolai had to admit—
It /worked/.
Because after being fucked on a luxurious bed covered in ten thousand Yen notes, the imprint of rings left on his body for /days/, all he wanted was more.
After being restrained in yards of red silken rope, anchored to the ceiling in
It /worked/.
Because after being fucked on a luxurious bed covered in ten thousand Yen notes, the imprint of rings left on his body for /days/, all he wanted was more.
After being restrained in yards of red silken rope, anchored to the ceiling in
the shape of tangled wings, each knot a display of Fyodor’s power, his /vision/, his skill, hanging from the ceiling with no leverage as Fyodor did whatever he wanted to him—
He would do almost anything to experience mind-numbing pleasure like that again.
If Dazai was a demon,
He would do almost anything to experience mind-numbing pleasure like that again.
If Dazai was a demon,
then Fyodor was the /devil/, and he fucked like it too. Entangling you in his ropes and showing you by /example/ what sin and pleasure really felt like.
It was impossible not to give into that sharp smile, even knowing that he’d take your soul—
Because he made every /second/
It was impossible not to give into that sharp smile, even knowing that he’d take your soul—
Because he made every /second/
worth it. Made you want to come back again and again, giving up everything you had and everything you were—
Just so you would be /his/ for a few hours.
Fyodor got new ropes for everyone he played with, so just knowing that there was a neatly knotted wall of silk with
Just so you would be /his/ for a few hours.
Fyodor got new ropes for everyone he played with, so just knowing that there was a neatly knotted wall of silk with
/Nikolai’s/ name on it, for /Nikolai/, and the only people to have touched it were him and Fyodor, and /only/ ever them—
It was /intoxicating/. His addiction, packaged up neatly and ready to be given to him whenever he earned it. His and his alone.
So when the order came, he—
It was /intoxicating/. His addiction, packaged up neatly and ready to be given to him whenever he earned it. His and his alone.
So when the order came, he—
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do that to his friend, one of the first /genuine/ ones he’s had in a while.
God, he /wanted/ to, and that made the guilt so much /worse/.
Was he really so pathetic that he was /almost/ willing to drug his friend non-consensually with a drug that
God, he /wanted/ to, and that made the guilt so much /worse/.
Was he really so pathetic that he was /almost/ willing to drug his friend non-consensually with a drug that
had been sending people to the /hospital/ for /sex/?
Really, really, /really/ good sex but still.
Besides, when Chuuya had come back from his impromptu get away with light bruising on his throat— probably because of Shuuji and his temper, but /possibly/ from Dazai— and already
Really, really, /really/ good sex but still.
Besides, when Chuuya had come back from his impromptu get away with light bruising on his throat— probably because of Shuuji and his temper, but /possibly/ from Dazai— and already
complaining of a headache, how was Nikolai supposed to just take /advantage/ of his friends ailing health and make it /worse/?
Chuuya had defended him, had offered him nothing but kindness and friendship, and Nikolai was supposed to just /spit/ on that?
So he lied. Again.
Chuuya had defended him, had offered him nothing but kindness and friendship, and Nikolai was supposed to just /spit/ on that?
So he lied. Again.
Told Fyodor that he /did/ it when all he really did was take a pill and flush it down the toilet, and was fully expecting to be punished.
Fully expected to die, even, for lying. If Chuuya never showed symptoms then the boss would /know/.
And Nikolai would confess if asked.
Fully expected to die, even, for lying. If Chuuya never showed symptoms then the boss would /know/.
And Nikolai would confess if asked.
Like a sinner to his god, on his knees and ready to receive whatever would be given to him in return.
Except Chuuya /did/ show symptoms of /something/. He’d collapsed at campus a few hours ago, and the gossip vine was /buzzing/ with the information that some tall, dark, handsome
Except Chuuya /did/ show symptoms of /something/. He’d collapsed at campus a few hours ago, and the gossip vine was /buzzing/ with the information that some tall, dark, handsome
man came to swoop him up and—
Fyodor and Dazai look similar enough that it could be either one of them. Chuuya could’ve gotten the pills /elsewhere/— Nikolai isn’t the /only/ one selling them on campus and some people share their purchases— and maybe he took some and then
Fyodor and Dazai look similar enough that it could be either one of them. Chuuya could’ve gotten the pills /elsewhere/— Nikolai isn’t the /only/ one selling them on campus and some people share their purchases— and maybe he took some and then
Fyodor came to pick him up—
All Nikolai knows that is Chuuya isn’t responding to his texts and his location, which he’s sharing with the friend group chat, says he’s at the hospital.
He hopes he’s okay. Hopes that he’ll /be/ okay, eventually.
But he also knows that he can’t
All Nikolai knows that is Chuuya isn’t responding to his texts and his location, which he’s sharing with the friend group chat, says he’s at the hospital.
He hopes he’s okay. Hopes that he’ll /be/ okay, eventually.
But he also knows that he can’t
keep hovering between the two sides anymore. He can’t protect Chuuya /and/ be a part of the Bratva. He can’t keep his friend safe and his mother safe at the same time.
He has to choose.
Dazai has to protect Chuuya now, because Nikolai can’t do it anymore. He’s done his best.
He has to choose.
Dazai has to protect Chuuya now, because Nikolai can’t do it anymore. He’s done his best.
[ UNKNOWN ]: good boy, kolya.
The next makes Nikolai shiver. He can practically /taste/ the nickname rolling off Fyodor’s tongue.
[ UNKNOWN ]: there’s a car waiting for you outside
It feels wrong to be /rewarded/ when Nikolai hasn’t done anything at all, but refusing would
The next makes Nikolai shiver. He can practically /taste/ the nickname rolling off Fyodor’s tongue.
[ UNKNOWN ]: there’s a car waiting for you outside
It feels wrong to be /rewarded/ when Nikolai hasn’t done anything at all, but refusing would
mean that he had to explain, and reveal that he didn’t actually do anything at all, so—
So he goes.
The car is black, with completely tinted windows, and the driver is someone Nikolai has never met before. It takes him to the building where Fyodor makes his office, a tall glass
So he goes.
The car is black, with completely tinted windows, and the driver is someone Nikolai has never met before. It takes him to the building where Fyodor makes his office, a tall glass
building in the center of town. The brand name of the outside of it is something completely unrelated to what /really/ goes on in the building. It’s just a clever cover.
Nikolai /does/ get nervous on the elevator ride up because—
What if Fyodor knows he lied? What if he’s about
Nikolai /does/ get nervous on the elevator ride up because—
What if Fyodor knows he lied? What if he’s about
to get /punished/ instead of rewarded?
Nikolai doesn’t know how he’d know— he was /secretive/ about tossing the pill, and Chuuya is clearly sick with /something/— but Fyodor is resourceful. He might’ve found out somehow.
The office, when he steps inside, is surprisingly dark,
Nikolai doesn’t know how he’d know— he was /secretive/ about tossing the pill, and Chuuya is clearly sick with /something/— but Fyodor is resourceful. He might’ve found out somehow.
The office, when he steps inside, is surprisingly dark,
with most of the light coming from the sun outside pouring through the multiple windows.
Fyodor is sitting at his desk, casually nursing a bottle of vodka. There’s a shot glass in front of him, freshly wet.
Woven between his fingers is /rope/. Red rope, /Nikolai’s/ rope. He’d
Fyodor is sitting at his desk, casually nursing a bottle of vodka. There’s a shot glass in front of him, freshly wet.
Woven between his fingers is /rope/. Red rope, /Nikolai’s/ rope. He’d
recognize that color anywhere, and the sight of it alone has his heart speeding up.
Violet eyes look up at him as he enters, nearly glowing in the light. Fyodor’s lips pull into a satisfied smile, red and shiny. He looks kissable.
“Come in, Kolya,” he says, nearly purring with
Violet eyes look up at him as he enters, nearly glowing in the light. Fyodor’s lips pull into a satisfied smile, red and shiny. He looks kissable.
“Come in, Kolya,” he says, nearly purring with
invitation. “Close the door behind you and come here.”
It’s not in Nikolai to refuse a direct order when he’s being stared at like /that/ so—
He comes.
Fyodor doesn’t move from his spot lounging in his office chair, like a leopard sated from the hunt and stretched out
It’s not in Nikolai to refuse a direct order when he’s being stared at like /that/ so—
He comes.
Fyodor doesn’t move from his spot lounging in his office chair, like a leopard sated from the hunt and stretched out
magnificently across it’s resting place. Casually dangerous.
When Fyodor gestures to the floor next to him, Nikolai falls to his knees easily.
With a flick of his wrist, the rope in Fyodor’s hands is spun out and dropped around the back of his neck. A noise he would /willingly/
When Fyodor gestures to the floor next to him, Nikolai falls to his knees easily.
With a flick of his wrist, the rope in Fyodor’s hands is spun out and dropped around the back of his neck. A noise he would /willingly/
put his neck into, and a pull he does not fight as Fyodor tugs him closer.
“You did well,” he praises him, and the pride that wells up in him feels like it would burn him alive. Even if he has no right to feel that way.
Still, he lets Fyodor manhandle him, eyes going half-
“You did well,” he praises him, and the pride that wells up in him feels like it would burn him alive. Even if he has no right to feel that way.
Still, he lets Fyodor manhandle him, eyes going half-
lidded at the pressure. He wants Fyodor to kiss him.
“And now I have another job for you,” he murmurs, and Nikolai is subtly leaning on, leaning /up/, aching to be put out of his mind so he can stop thinking for just a little bit. So he can stop feeling /guilty/ about the things
“And now I have another job for you,” he murmurs, and Nikolai is subtly leaning on, leaning /up/, aching to be put out of his mind so he can stop thinking for just a little bit. So he can stop feeling /guilty/ about the things
he didn’t do and the things he has yet to do.
Soft lips brush against his own as Fyodor speaks again. “I want you to bring me Nakahara Chuuya.”
Nikolai’s eyes squeeze shut at the same time Fyodor /finally/ kisses him.
No one told him this, but life should not be this hard.
—+
Soft lips brush against his own as Fyodor speaks again. “I want you to bring me Nakahara Chuuya.”
Nikolai’s eyes squeeze shut at the same time Fyodor /finally/ kisses him.
No one told him this, but life should not be this hard.
—+
Hospitals start their work early. Not early compared to Dazai's standards-- he's usually awake before the sunrise, mostly because his insomnia is a rampant, vicious foe-- but to /Chuuya's/ standards, definitely. Little brat thinks waking up before 10 in the morning is /obscene/,
and that's when he's feeling /good/. Now that he's /sick/, Dazai has no doubt that adorable grumpiness is even more dramatic than usual.
He does what he can, letting Chuuya bury his face in his chest to hide from the light and lightly cupping his hand over his ear to help block
He does what he can, letting Chuuya bury his face in his chest to hide from the light and lightly cupping his hand over his ear to help block
out the sound of the hospital coming to life.
A nurse comes in to check on him early, once again taking down all of Chuuya's vital signs. She's respectfully quiet, humming lightly to herself as she writes down all the information. As she leaves, she turns to Dazai and whispers,
A nurse comes in to check on him early, once again taking down all of Chuuya's vital signs. She's respectfully quiet, humming lightly to herself as she writes down all the information. As she leaves, she turns to Dazai and whispers,
"The neurologist will be in to see you soon."
'Soon' ends up being nearly half an hour lately. Chuuya is still stubbornly clinging to sleep, but it's clear that he's slowly starting to wake up.
Dazai hopes it's not a bad sign that he's so exhausted. He knows his body needs rest
'Soon' ends up being nearly half an hour lately. Chuuya is still stubbornly clinging to sleep, but it's clear that he's slowly starting to wake up.
Dazai hopes it's not a bad sign that he's so exhausted. He knows his body needs rest
to recover--
But he'd do anything to see those blue eyes open up again. He misses the sight of them, and he feels like the only way he'll be able to tell if Chuuya is /alright/ is if he sees them again. If he wakes up and /looks/.
"You do realize that the hospital beds are for
But he'd do anything to see those blue eyes open up again. He misses the sight of them, and he feels like the only way he'll be able to tell if Chuuya is /alright/ is if he sees them again. If he wakes up and /looks/.
"You do realize that the hospital beds are for
patients and not for their fiancés, right?" Gide's voice comes from the doorway,faintly amused.
Dazai looks over, blinking the strain out of his eyes. It's been a long night, longer than usual.
Gide's dressed in a different suit today. The labcoat and suitcoat is missing again,
Dazai looks over, blinking the strain out of his eyes. It's been a long night, longer than usual.
Gide's dressed in a different suit today. The labcoat and suitcoat is missing again,
and the shirt today is a silver-grey that compliments his shiny hair. It's down this morning, falling to mid-back, with his bangs pulled back in a handful of small braids along his temples. He looks elegant, sleek, regal.
"He sleeps better when I'm here," Dazai explains,
"He sleeps better when I'm here," Dazai explains,
shrugging lightly. It's true, he's much more easily settled when Dazai is at least in bed with him, even if he's not sleeping himself.
Dazai takes that moment to slide out from underneath Chuuya, slowly getting to his feet. Chuuya makes a grumbling noise in protest as he leaves,
Dazai takes that moment to slide out from underneath Chuuya, slowly getting to his feet. Chuuya makes a grumbling noise in protest as he leaves,
much more clear than anything else he's mumbled thus far. He must be close to waking up now.
Dazai raises his arms above his head, stretching out his spine until it pops loudly. His back aches mercilessly, particularly his lower back.
While he works out the kinks in his body,
Dazai raises his arms above his head, stretching out his spine until it pops loudly. His back aches mercilessly, particularly his lower back.
While he works out the kinks in his body,
Gide grabs the chart and starts to flip through it. His expression is calm but focused, red-tinted eyes taking in all the information easily. He doesn't look /concerned/, so Dazai takes that as a good sign.
There's another small grumble, a sound of strain and a rustle of the
There's another small grumble, a sound of strain and a rustle of the
bedsheets and pillow on the bed and then--
"What happened?"
He's /awake/.
He sounds hoarse and /grumpy/ but when Dazai looks over, heart leaping in his chest--
Chuuya's already looking, eyes bleary and half-lidded but /clear/ and fixed on him.
Dazai could cry with relief.
"What happened?"
He's /awake/.
He sounds hoarse and /grumpy/ but when Dazai looks over, heart leaping in his chest--
Chuuya's already looking, eyes bleary and half-lidded but /clear/ and fixed on him.
Dazai could cry with relief.
Almost /does/, actually, and it takes a surprising amount of strength to rein in his reactions--
But he doesn't want to /frighten/ him again. It must be disorientating to wake up after everything that happened, and he doesn't want to startle him again.
Meanwhile, Gide snaps the
But he doesn't want to /frighten/ him again. It must be disorientating to wake up after everything that happened, and he doesn't want to startle him again.
Meanwhile, Gide snaps the
chart in his hands closed. "Good morning, Chuuya," he greets, cheerfully. "I'm glad to see you're awake."
With his hands, Chuuya struggles to push himself into an upright position. He hisses in pain when the IV in his hand is jostled, drawing his hand to his chest.
There's
With his hands, Chuuya struggles to push himself into an upright position. He hisses in pain when the IV in his hand is jostled, drawing his hand to his chest.
There's
buttons on the edge of the bed, letting it be moved up and down. Dazai presses the one that moves the top of the bed into a more inclined position, letting Chuuya 'sit up' without having to strain himself or hold himself up.
He gets a grateful look in response, his free hand
He gets a grateful look in response, his free hand
creeping across the bed to find Dazai's, instinctively reaching out for comfort. Their fingers intertwine lightly.
Dazai squeezes his hand gently as he drops into the chair he'd left by his bedside, careful not to hurt him but also /so/ relieved he's awake and talking. He brings
Dazai squeezes his hand gently as he drops into the chair he'd left by his bedside, careful not to hurt him but also /so/ relieved he's awake and talking. He brings
his hand to his lips, dropping a reverent kiss there. His skin is still too warm, but it's not /burning/ hot anymore, and he squeezes his fingers in return.
"How do you feel?" Gide asks, leaning back against the doorframe. The breadth of his shoulders blocks the sight of the
"How do you feel?" Gide asks, leaning back against the doorframe. The breadth of his shoulders blocks the sight of the
hallway beyond, making it seem like the room is closed off and secure.
"Uh," Chuuya starts, seeming like he's struggling to find the exact words he wants to say. He touches his temple with his other hand once, wincing lightly. "Like shit-- but better, I think?"
He's still
"Uh," Chuuya starts, seeming like he's struggling to find the exact words he wants to say. He touches his temple with his other hand once, wincing lightly. "Like shit-- but better, I think?"
He's still
showing signs of light sensitivity, and he's slumped back into the bed like he's exhausted, but he's talking clearly--
That's a good sign, right?
"That's good to hear. You've shown signs of improvement throughout the night. Your fever has gone down, and so has your blood
That's a good sign, right?
"That's good to hear. You've shown signs of improvement throughout the night. Your fever has gone down, and so has your blood
pressure. I'm scheduling you for an MRI to check on the swelling, but it seems to me that you've responded well to the medication."
The smile that grows on Chuuya's face is small and wobbly, but it's /brilliant/ to Dazai. Possibly his favorite smile /ever/, because he wasn't
The smile that grows on Chuuya's face is small and wobbly, but it's /brilliant/ to Dazai. Possibly his favorite smile /ever/, because he wasn't
sure if he was going to see it again.
"So what happened to me?"
"You had something called encephalitis. It means your brain was swelling, and the pressure was too much. That's what caused the seizure, and the rest of your symptoms. I'm not completely certain what was causing
"So what happened to me?"
"You had something called encephalitis. It means your brain was swelling, and the pressure was too much. That's what caused the seizure, and the rest of your symptoms. I'm not completely certain what was causing
the swelling, but the important part is that you're responding to medication. If your MRI results are good, you'll be able to discharged today," Gide answers. Even though he's giving /good/ information, he still looks stern and professional. His arms are crossed over his chest.
Chuuya takes a moment to process that, squeezing Dazai's hand. He seems to be taking this remarkably well, and even now a smile is growing on his face, slowly growing bigger.
"So when will I be able to go back to school? I'm enrolled at Keio."
The air goes completely still.
"So when will I be able to go back to school? I'm enrolled at Keio."
The air goes completely still.
"About that," Gide starts, pushing off the wall and walking closer. He stands at the foot of the bed, and his gaze is stern enough on Chuuya that Dazai is stiffening automatically, "Even /if/ your recovery goes perfectly-- you won't be able to return this semester."
Chuuya /gapes/ at him. "What do you mean? You said I'm recovering!"
"Yes, but that doesn't mean you're /fine/. You suffered a brain injury, one that could still have lingering aftereffects. You need lots of rest and care, as well as medication. Bed rest, for six weeks minimum
"Yes, but that doesn't mean you're /fine/. You suffered a brain injury, one that could still have lingering aftereffects. You need lots of rest and care, as well as medication. Bed rest, for six weeks minimum
and then /slow/ transition back into normal life."
"Six WEEKS?" Chuuya repeats, sounding /appalled/. Anger must be giving him energy because he's sitting up straighter, pinning Gide with a glare. "You can't /make/ me not go, not if I start to feel better. Just give me a note for
"Six WEEKS?" Chuuya repeats, sounding /appalled/. Anger must be giving him energy because he's sitting up straighter, pinning Gide with a glare. "You can't /make/ me not go, not if I start to feel better. Just give me a note for
two weeks, and I'll be fine."
He is the most /stubborn/ fucking person Dazai has /ever/ met--
But he's met his match with Gide. Because /Gide/ doesn't have emotional attachment to him, doesn't want to see him happy above all else and wouldn't give into him just to make him
He is the most /stubborn/ fucking person Dazai has /ever/ met--
But he's met his match with Gide. Because /Gide/ doesn't have emotional attachment to him, doesn't want to see him happy above all else and wouldn't give into him just to make him
smile.
Gide only has /one/ goal-- get Chuuya healthy-- and he won't give in on that.
"I'll be giving /Dazai/ your note for the next /three/ months," Gide answers, steady and calm in the face of Chuuya's rising irritation, "And you're right, I can't make you take care of
Gide only has /one/ goal-- get Chuuya healthy-- and he won't give in on that.
"I'll be giving /Dazai/ your note for the next /three/ months," Gide answers, steady and calm in the face of Chuuya's rising irritation, "And you're right, I can't make you take care of
yourself. But if you're going to take /that/ route, I might as well take the IV out of your hand right now. We'll all sit here and watch as the pressure in your head grows and grows. Eventually, you'll seize again."
Chuuya looks pale, and his hand is beginning to tremble. His
Chuuya looks pale, and his hand is beginning to tremble. His
lips are pressed together so tightly they're nearly white with bloodlessness.
"You wanna know what comes after that? Eventually the pressure in your head gets so much that I have to /cut/ into it. I'll drill out a piece of your skull, sew it into your abdomen to keep it alive,
"You wanna know what comes after that? Eventually the pressure in your head gets so much that I have to /cut/ into it. I'll drill out a piece of your skull, sew it into your abdomen to keep it alive,
and leave the hole in your head open to relieve pressure."
Chuuya /recoils/,pressing himself back in the bed, and even Dazai feels vaguely uncomfortable with the description of that. He's unfortunately /glad/ that Gide is being so /ruthless/, because it finally seems that Chuuya
Chuuya /recoils/,pressing himself back in the bed, and even Dazai feels vaguely uncomfortable with the description of that. He's unfortunately /glad/ that Gide is being so /ruthless/, because it finally seems that Chuuya
is /getting/ it. This isn't a flu or a sickness he's just going to bounce back from.
He doesn't get to pretend that he's /okay/ after all this, because he's not. And if he doesn't take care of himself, he might never be.
"Oh? You don't like that?" Gide's smile is edging on
He doesn't get to pretend that he's /okay/ after all this, because he's not. And if he doesn't take care of himself, he might never be.
"Oh? You don't like that?" Gide's smile is edging on
/mean/. "You must be going after the /brain damage/, then, right?"
He doesn't let Chuuya get in a word otherwise as he brings his hand to his chin, pretending to think. "Let's see-- I know a guy, can't remember a damn thing. Has a memory so shot he can't remember anything past a
He doesn't let Chuuya get in a word otherwise as he brings his hand to his chin, pretending to think. "Let's see-- I know a guy, can't remember a damn thing. Has a memory so shot he can't remember anything past a
few /hours/. Totally forgot his /husband/, by the way. He can never live a normal life again. He needs a /babysitter/ to make sure he doesn't get himself lost. You want that to happen? You want to do that to yourself? To him?" He gestures to Dazai then, and he /hates/ being used
against Chuuya like this but--
But he can't /imagine/ a life like that. A life with a /helpless/ Chuuya, who doesn't even know who he /is/.
Dazai doesn't know how he would handle that. If he /could/ handle that.
"You want to live your life day by day, never knowing what came
But he can't /imagine/ a life like that. A life with a /helpless/ Chuuya, who doesn't even know who he /is/.
Dazai doesn't know how he would handle that. If he /could/ handle that.
"You want to live your life day by day, never knowing what came
before? Having to have /notes/ in your kitchen because you don't know where the /bowls/ are? Not knowing where you /live/? Not--."
Dazai cuts him off there, leveling a glare at Gide. "Stop. You're scaring him."
And Chuuya /is/ scared. He's pressed back against the bed like he's
Dazai cuts him off there, leveling a glare at Gide. "Stop. You're scaring him."
And Chuuya /is/ scared. He's pressed back against the bed like he's
trying to /escape/. Eyes wide and filled with moisture, locked on Gide like he can't look away.
"He /should/ be scared," Gide huffs, shrugging his shoulders like he doesn't care. "Brains are complicated, fragile things, and all of my help and knowledge will mean /shit/ if he
"He /should/ be scared," Gide huffs, shrugging his shoulders like he doesn't care. "Brains are complicated, fragile things, and all of my help and knowledge will mean /shit/ if he
doesn't take care of himself. He could end up losing /everything/ if he doesn't let his body rest and recuperate."
"Okay," Chuuya chokes out, turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut. "Okay, I /get/ it. So just-- just /stop/, please."
Gide lets out a breath, some of
"Okay," Chuuya chokes out, turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut. "Okay, I /get/ it. So just-- just /stop/, please."
Gide lets out a breath, some of
the tension leaving his shoulders. "Okay. I didn't mean to frighten you-- but something like this can turn very serious very quickly, and the fact that it's /not/ serious yet is a good thing. You were lucky, Chuuya, but luck won't hold out forever. So follow your care
instructions, and you can go back to a normal life as quickly as your body will allow."
Speaking of, that's /exactly/ the question Dazai wanted to ask. "What /are/ his aftercare instructions?"
Gide pulls out a phone from his pocket, the same one Dazai saw yesterday. He thought
Speaking of, that's /exactly/ the question Dazai wanted to ask. "What /are/ his aftercare instructions?"
Gide pulls out a phone from his pocket, the same one Dazai saw yesterday. He thought
hospitals had like...
Pagers, or whatever, not /phones/.
"Now, this is /all/ depending on his MRI results, because those will determine if he's discharged today or not. If he is, I will be prescribing him an antiviral and an anticonvulsant. The antiviral will need to be taken
Pagers, or whatever, not /phones/.
"Now, this is /all/ depending on his MRI results, because those will determine if he's discharged today or not. If he is, I will be prescribing him an antiviral and an anticonvulsant. The antiviral will need to be taken
for the next... sixty days, to be sure. You'll need a refill at thirty days. As for the anti-convulsant, I'm going to give you a ten day script, just in case. Take one a day for the next three days, then only if you need them. They'll make you tired, but you /must/ take them if
you feel a seizure coming on. I'm sure you know what that feels like."
Mouth twisting down in a frown, Chuuya nods. His face is paling, and he's gone limp again, like all the fight has drained out of him. Like he's too tired to even be angry or upset anymore.
Dazai /aches/ for
Mouth twisting down in a frown, Chuuya nods. His face is paling, and he's gone limp again, like all the fight has drained out of him. Like he's too tired to even be angry or upset anymore.
Dazai /aches/ for
him. He can't imagine what it'd be like to work so /hard/ for something, just to have it taken from you by circumstances out of your control.
Colleges aren't /supposed/ to discriminate by medical conditions-- but Dazai's /sure/ they do. The more prestigious ones, especially,
Colleges aren't /supposed/ to discriminate by medical conditions-- but Dazai's /sure/ they do. The more prestigious ones, especially,
make it so /hard/ for anyone who's not in /perfect/ health to survive the classes. They're /merciless/, never giving an inch or adjusting due dates for someone who might need it. Every accommodation must be /fought/ for with tooth and nail.
Even if Chuuya does have a note for
Even if Chuuya does have a note for
medical leave, when-- /if/-- he returns to class, he'll be /behind/. An entire semester behind, and even if he /can/ keep up with the workload again, he might overwhelm himself again trying to catch up.
It's a shitty, shitty situation, and Dazai feels for him.
"I suggest
It's a shitty, shitty situation, and Dazai feels for him.
"I suggest
you start a regimen of anti-inflammatories--like Tylenol-- to help with the headache and the swelling. Make sure to follow the instructions, though."
This time, Gide levels a stern look at /Dazai/, which he's more than okay with.
"Other than that, I'm prescribing /lots/ of
This time, Gide levels a stern look at /Dazai/, which he's more than okay with.
"Other than that, I'm prescribing /lots/ of
rest, water and care. Do either of you have any questions?"
Dazai doesn't /think/ so, and if he comes up with any more questions he can always call Yosano. As long as it's a /reasonable/ time--she swears she's getting /old/ now and is in bed before midnight, which is /insulting/
Dazai doesn't /think/ so, and if he comes up with any more questions he can always call Yosano. As long as it's a /reasonable/ time--she swears she's getting /old/ now and is in bed before midnight, which is /insulting/
considering that she is /two years/ younger than he is-- then she'll answer him. She might be /nosy/ about it, but she's always given him good advice.
He shakes his head. Chuuya makes a vague 'no' noise, still looking away.
"Alright," Gide says, rapping his knuckles on the
He shakes his head. Chuuya makes a vague 'no' noise, still looking away.
"Alright," Gide says, rapping his knuckles on the
metal frame of the bed, "The nurses should be coming to get you for an MRI soon. If you come up with any questions while I'm gone, let one of them know. Otherwise, I'll see you again when the scans come back."
He turns without another word, long legs carrying him out of the room
He turns without another word, long legs carrying him out of the room
easily. He's gone in only a few moments, leaving them alone to process what just happened.
It's rare for Dazai to feel out of his element. He's been trained to pick up the details of any situation and blend in, to use everything he can to his advantage.
There is no advantage
It's rare for Dazai to feel out of his element. He's been trained to pick up the details of any situation and blend in, to use everything he can to his advantage.
There is no advantage
here. There's just Chuuya, staring at the wall with his expression forcibly blank, like he can't bear to reveal what he's feeling.
Dazai's never been /good/ with emotions, in any capacity, so this is especially hard for him. He doesn't know what to /do/, but he has to do
Dazai's never been /good/ with emotions, in any capacity, so this is especially hard for him. He doesn't know what to /do/, but he has to do
/something/. He can't just /sit/ here.
"Are...you okay?" He asks, and he /knows/ it's a stupid question, but he doesn't know where to start.
There's a long silence, and although Chuuya hasn't let /go/ of his hand, he's no longer squeezing it. He's just letting Dazai hold his
"Are...you okay?" He asks, and he /knows/ it's a stupid question, but he doesn't know where to start.
There's a long silence, and although Chuuya hasn't let /go/ of his hand, he's no longer squeezing it. He's just letting Dazai hold his
hand, fingers limp.
"No," Chuuya eventually croaks, and Dazai is /just/ about to jump up and call a nurse or something--
When Chuuya continues, "I worked /so/ hard to get into Keio. I gave it /everything/ I had, and now it's /gone/."
His voice cracks the last word, wobbling.
"No," Chuuya eventually croaks, and Dazai is /just/ about to jump up and call a nurse or something--
When Chuuya continues, "I worked /so/ hard to get into Keio. I gave it /everything/ I had, and now it's /gone/."
His voice cracks the last word, wobbling.
Poor /thing/. He must be feeling so lost right now, so helpless.
Gently, Dazai reaches out and brushes his fingertips over his cheek. Trying to show his care and support without /pushing/ him. "It's not /gone/, baby," he murmurs, wishing he had the works to /fix/ this, to make
Gently, Dazai reaches out and brushes his fingertips over his cheek. Trying to show his care and support without /pushing/ him. "It's not /gone/, baby," he murmurs, wishing he had the works to /fix/ this, to make
it all seem /okay/. "You just... need to take a little break, that's all. You can go back next semester."
But for someone like /Chuuya/, who has been very obviously frustrated with his health over /years/ and refuses to give himself even the smallest of breaks-- it probably
But for someone like /Chuuya/, who has been very obviously frustrated with his health over /years/ and refuses to give himself even the smallest of breaks-- it probably
seems like the end of the world. For someone who is /determined/ to push through every little pain or setback with a clenched jaw, the idea of being /forced/ to relax must be hard to handle.
It seems that Chuuya is too tired to argue anymore, because he just turns his face into
It seems that Chuuya is too tired to argue anymore, because he just turns his face into
his hand and blindly accepts the comfort that's being given to him.
Dazai hopes they release him from the hospital soon, because the beds and equipment in here make it /really/ difficult to comfort Chuuya the way he wants to. Helping him sleep was one thing, but he wants to
Dazai hopes they release him from the hospital soon, because the beds and equipment in here make it /really/ difficult to comfort Chuuya the way he wants to. Helping him sleep was one thing, but he wants to
/hold/ him.
Eventually a pair of nurses come into the room to take Chuuya for his test. They make small talk as they prepare to wheel Chuuya out, but Chuuya is understandably quiet.
Dazai is /nervous/ watching him leave, but he doesn't protest. He can't follow, so he's once
Eventually a pair of nurses come into the room to take Chuuya for his test. They make small talk as they prepare to wheel Chuuya out, but Chuuya is understandably quiet.
Dazai is /nervous/ watching him leave, but he doesn't protest. He can't follow, so he's once
again left alone to wait in the room.
He gathers all their things while he waits. Chuuya's clothes and everything else he was wearing had been packed into a clear plastic bag. His collar is in there, light pink and metal shining underneath the light.
Dazai traces his finger
He gathers all their things while he waits. Chuuya's clothes and everything else he was wearing had been packed into a clear plastic bag. His collar is in there, light pink and metal shining underneath the light.
Dazai traces his finger
over the shape of it, something in him aching at how /empty/ it looks. How bare Chuuya's neck looked without it.
While he's there, he shoves Chuuya's phone and wallet in the bag with his clothes. He's probably wondering where they are, and Dazai's ass is numb from laying on
While he's there, he shoves Chuuya's phone and wallet in the bag with his clothes. He's probably wondering where they are, and Dazai's ass is numb from laying on
them all night.
He wishes he'd thought of getting Chuuya clean clothes for discharge, but it seems too late now. He can't make it to his house--Chuuya has a few outfits hanging in his closet, a sight that makes him feel warm and bubbly inside-- and back by the time he's
He wishes he'd thought of getting Chuuya clean clothes for discharge, but it seems too late now. He can't make it to his house--Chuuya has a few outfits hanging in his closet, a sight that makes him feel warm and bubbly inside-- and back by the time he's
discharged.
If the scans don't go well and he ends up having to stay another night, then he'll make the trip to get him something comfortable to wear. If not, Chuuya will have to be okay with the jeans and sweater he wore yesterday. It'll only be for a little while anyways,
If the scans don't go well and he ends up having to stay another night, then he'll make the trip to get him something comfortable to wear. If not, Chuuya will have to be okay with the jeans and sweater he wore yesterday. It'll only be for a little while anyways,
because Dazai intends to get him straight home and into bed as soon as he's released.
Half an hour later, Chuuya gets pushed back into the room. He looks more exhausted than ever, but the IV has been removed from his hand. That has to be a good sign, right?
Dazai greets him
Half an hour later, Chuuya gets pushed back into the room. He looks more exhausted than ever, but the IV has been removed from his hand. That has to be a good sign, right?
Dazai greets him
with a gentle kiss dropped on the back of his hand, but otherwise lets him doze as they both wait for results.
‘Results’ come in the form of Gide waltzing into the room like he owns it nearly another half an hour later. His hair has been pulled up into another messy ponytail
‘Results’ come in the form of Gide waltzing into the room like he owns it nearly another half an hour later. His hair has been pulled up into another messy ponytail
on top of his head. Honestly, Dazai doesn’t understand why he just doesn’t cut his hair if it’s such a problem, or even start the day with his hair up.
He’s actually got his lab coat on this time, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms. In his hands is another brown
He’s actually got his lab coat on this time, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms. In his hands is another brown
package envelope, like the ones that were holding his scans yesterday.
Dazai sits up straighter, waiting to hear if he can /finally/ bring his baby home or if they'll be in for another long night of waiting. Gide doesn't /look/ particularly concerned or happy, but he's been
Dazai sits up straighter, waiting to hear if he can /finally/ bring his baby home or if they'll be in for another long night of waiting. Gide doesn't /look/ particularly concerned or happy, but he's been
irritatingly hard to read so far. Professional in /some/ moments, and swinging into something resembling a heartless drill sergeant the next.
"Good news," he starts, grabbing the chart on the end of Chuuya's bed. He flips to the back page, taking a pen out of his pocket. "Your
"Good news," he starts, grabbing the chart on the end of Chuuya's bed. He flips to the back page, taking a pen out of his pocket. "Your
scans came back with good results. You've shown enough progress that you can go home today."
He signs the page with a flourish, before flipping the chart closed and tucking it underneath his arm.
Dazai lets out a breath of relief, slumping back in his seat. Relief is flooding
He signs the page with a flourish, before flipping the chart closed and tucking it underneath his arm.
Dazai lets out a breath of relief, slumping back in his seat. Relief is flooding
through him quickly, /finally/ washing away the lingering, sticky threads of emotion that have been clinging to his lungs like tar. It feels like he can finally /breathe/ again, and the air tastes clean and fresh again.
Even though the hard part is /just/ beginning.
Chuuya
Even though the hard part is /just/ beginning.
Chuuya
doesn't look nearly as pleased-- in fact, he looks just exhaustively accepting, face blank-- but he nods and starts to pull himself into a sitting position.
Dazai slides over the bag of his clothes, not /offering/ to help him get dressed because he's sure that will just
Dazai slides over the bag of his clothes, not /offering/ to help him get dressed because he's sure that will just
frustrate him even more and he's not even sure if he /needs/ it.
Gide waves him closer, eyeing Chuuya's hunched frame as he tears open the bag and digs out his jeans.
"Keep an eye on him. Depression can be common," he murmurs to him, quiet enough to not be heard. Then, louder
Gide waves him closer, eyeing Chuuya's hunched frame as he tears open the bag and digs out his jeans.
"Keep an eye on him. Depression can be common," he murmurs to him, quiet enough to not be heard. Then, louder
he says, "You'll need an appointment in thirty days, just as a checkup. If anything /concerning/ happens between then,--like seizures or fainting or anything else-- go to the emergency room and ask them to page me directly. If there's nothing else, I'll leave you to it."
Chuuya
Chuuya
looks up then, and his eyes are clear, if drawn with exhaustion. "No, I think that's it. Thanks. For taking care of me."
Gide smiles at him, expression dissolving into mild happiness. For the first time he doesn't look like a professional force to be in this situation-- he looks
Gide smiles at him, expression dissolving into mild happiness. For the first time he doesn't look like a professional force to be in this situation-- he looks
like a man who loves his job and is pleased when things go /well/. "You're welcome, Chuuya," he responds, caring and warm. "Now, take care of yourself. I don't want to see you again,even if you /are/ a better view than most of my patients these days."
He flashes a teasing smile
He flashes a teasing smile
at him, one that manages to pull out an amused huff out of Chuuya /and/ a rising blush on his cheeks.
Dazai is torn between thinking 'is he really flirting with my fiance in front of me??' and 'yeah, Chuuya /is/ very pretty, thank you' and 'why the hell is he blushing at that?'.
Dazai is torn between thinking 'is he really flirting with my fiance in front of me??' and 'yeah, Chuuya /is/ very pretty, thank you' and 'why the hell is he blushing at that?'.
And over that is a hot, possessive thought of 'do NOT touch'.
Before Dazai can decide if he's overreacting or if he should be /displeased/, Gide is clapping a hand on his shoulder. Maybe it's /harder/ than it should be, but the squeeze is friendly enough--
And then he's gone.
Before Dazai can decide if he's overreacting or if he should be /displeased/, Gide is clapping a hand on his shoulder. Maybe it's /harder/ than it should be, but the squeeze is friendly enough--
And then he's gone.
Leaving him with a boyfriend that /needs/ his help, even if he won't admit it, that he really has no idea /how/ to help.
"So," Chuuya says, reaching down to pull the ends of his jeans over his ankles. Then he stands up and Dazai is watching warily to make sure he doesn't fall--
"So," Chuuya says, reaching down to pull the ends of his jeans over his ankles. Then he stands up and Dazai is watching warily to make sure he doesn't fall--
"Fiance, huh?" He continues, and /oh/, Dazai /likes/ the way he says that, likes the little twinkle of amusement in his eyes, the teasing curl of his lips.
Like it's a /secret/ between them, something sacred tying them together.
Digging into the bag, Dazai carefully pulls out
Like it's a /secret/ between them, something sacred tying them together.
Digging into the bag, Dazai carefully pulls out
the collar and moves over to him. He waits until Chuuya carefully pulls his hair on top of his head in silent permission before gently sliding the leather around his neck.
"It was the only way they'd let me back here with you," he murmurs, making sure Chuuya has enough room to
"It was the only way they'd let me back here with you," he murmurs, making sure Chuuya has enough room to
breathe before buckling the collar. "And I couldn't just /leave/ you here alone."
The hospital gown is slightly large on him, exposing a section of his shoulders. His skin is pale, freckles darker than ever.
It's /tempting/, though, one Dazai can't resist. So he leans down,
The hospital gown is slightly large on him, exposing a section of his shoulders. His skin is pale, freckles darker than ever.
It's /tempting/, though, one Dazai can't resist. So he leans down,
brushing his lips over one of the constellations of markings.
Chuuya tilts his head to give him better access, sighing. He leans back slightly, letting Dazai take his weight.
He takes advantage of that action to slide his arms around his waist and pull him back, wrapping him in
Chuuya tilts his head to give him better access, sighing. He leans back slightly, letting Dazai take his weight.
He takes advantage of that action to slide his arms around his waist and pull him back, wrapping him in
a warm, solid embrace.
Chuuya feels comfortingly real in his arms, if still slightly fragile and too-thin. But he's breathing, he's getting /better/, his fever is coming down, and Dazai gets to take him home again.
He hates hospitals.
"Mm," Chuuya hums, leaning back into him
Chuuya feels comfortingly real in his arms, if still slightly fragile and too-thin. But he's breathing, he's getting /better/, his fever is coming down, and Dazai gets to take him home again.
He hates hospitals.
"Mm," Chuuya hums, leaning back into him
more firmly. His hands find Dazai's forearms, squeezing lightly. Then--
"Ah, shit, do you think they called my dad?"
Dazai blinks, pausing in his self-given mission of adorning every one of Chuuya's freckles with a kiss. Neither Gide or any of the nurses /mentioned/ calling his
"Ah, shit, do you think they called my dad?"
Dazai blinks, pausing in his self-given mission of adorning every one of Chuuya's freckles with a kiss. Neither Gide or any of the nurses /mentioned/ calling his
father, but they probably aren't /required/ to mention that. Plus, even though Dazai was here and they all believed he was Chuuya's fiance, he still wasn't his emergency contact.
"I don't know," he mutters, rising up to give Chuuya one last adoring kiss on the cheek. "No one
"I don't know," he mutters, rising up to give Chuuya one last adoring kiss on the cheek. "No one
told me if they did, and I don't think he's called yet."
Chuuya's phone is on the dregs of it's battery, almost dead, but Dazai doesn't remember an incoming call at all last night.
"Dammit," Chuuya sighs, motioning for Dazai to untie the laces holding the gown together in the
Chuuya's phone is on the dregs of it's battery, almost dead, but Dazai doesn't remember an incoming call at all last night.
"Dammit," Chuuya sighs, motioning for Dazai to untie the laces holding the gown together in the
back. He does so easily, handing Chuuya his shirt when the gown starts to fall off of him. "He's going to be a pain to deal with."
He already looks irritated and exhausted by the concept, tugging his shirt over his head.
Dazai touches the middle of his back briefly. "I'll help
He already looks irritated and exhausted by the concept, tugging his shirt over his head.
Dazai touches the middle of his back briefly. "I'll help
you," he reassures him, supportive.
Of course, the /next/ problem is one that Dazai can't help him with. In fact, in Chuuya's eyes, he's probably a /traitor/ for thinking it's a good idea.
Because when the nurse arrives with his discharge papers, she brings a /wheelchair/ with.
Of course, the /next/ problem is one that Dazai can't help him with. In fact, in Chuuya's eyes, he's probably a /traitor/ for thinking it's a good idea.
Because when the nurse arrives with his discharge papers, she brings a /wheelchair/ with.
Chuuya eyes the contraption disdainfully. "I'm not getting in that," he announces stubbornly. "I can walk. I'm /fine/."
The nurse opens her mouth to argue, probably something about hospital policy, but Dazai is much more versed in arguing with Chuuya, so he takes this one for
The nurse opens her mouth to argue, probably something about hospital policy, but Dazai is much more versed in arguing with Chuuya, so he takes this one for
the team.
He takes the handlebars from the nurse, giving Chuuya his brightest smile. "Come on, I'll push you. It'll be fun."
Chuuya's eyes flash at him as he signs the discharge papers and hands them back. "If you think its so fun, why don't you get in it, old man?"
/Ow/.
He takes the handlebars from the nurse, giving Chuuya his brightest smile. "Come on, I'll push you. It'll be fun."
Chuuya's eyes flash at him as he signs the discharge papers and hands them back. "If you think its so fun, why don't you get in it, old man?"
/Ow/.
Dazai has to fight back a smile because even though that was /completely/ uncalled for, it’s a good thing that Chuuya is showing attitude. It means he’s feeling /better/, at least enough to feel snarky.
It’s also good that Dazai can’t /punish/ him for bratty behavior, which he’s
It’s also good that Dazai can’t /punish/ him for bratty behavior, which he’s
sure Chuuya will take /full/ advantage of in the coming days. He’ll have to get creative.
“Chibi is /so/ mean to me,” he pouts, dramatically holding a hand to his chest and internally snickering when Chuuya’s eyes flash again. He hates that nickname. “There’s no need to be like
“Chibi is /so/ mean to me,” he pouts, dramatically holding a hand to his chest and internally snickering when Chuuya’s eyes flash again. He hates that nickname. “There’s no need to be like
that, baby,” he teases, flashing him the smile that /usually/ means he’s in trouble.
Dazai pushes the wheelchair forward, arching an eyebrow at Chuuya. “Sit,” he tells him, casually authoritative.
Like always, Chuuya crumbles under the tone, grumbling under his breath to
Dazai pushes the wheelchair forward, arching an eyebrow at Chuuya. “Sit,” he tells him, casually authoritative.
Like always, Chuuya crumbles under the tone, grumbling under his breath to
himself as he grudgingly trudges over and collapses into the wheelchair.
“I hate this,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
The nurse hands Dazai the papers for his prescriptions. He’ll have to get them later today, but Chuuya should be good for today. They already
“I hate this,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.
The nurse hands Dazai the papers for his prescriptions. He’ll have to get them later today, but Chuuya should be good for today. They already
gave him his meds for today, earlier this morning.
“Personally,” Dazai muses to himself loudly as he follows the nurse down the hallway, pushing Chuuya in front. “I’m having /lots/ of fun.”
“Just you wait. I’m gonna run /your/ wheelchair into a parked car, when you need one.”
“Personally,” Dazai muses to himself loudly as he follows the nurse down the hallway, pushing Chuuya in front. “I’m having /lots/ of fun.”
“Just you wait. I’m gonna run /your/ wheelchair into a parked car, when you need one.”
The words themselves are harsh, but Chuuya is tilting his head to brush his temple over Dazai’s fingers wrapped around the handles so the sting is soothed away.
It’s a good thing Chuuya can’t see his smile from this angle. “I suppose that’s better than a /moving/ car,” he says,
It’s a good thing Chuuya can’t see his smile from this angle. “I suppose that’s better than a /moving/ car,” he says,
pushing Chuuya into the elevator when the door opens. “But you’re gonna have to wait a /long/ time for that.”
Chuuya turns his nose up. “That’s fine. I can wait.I’m patient. I can hold a /grudge/.”
Little /liar/. He’s /far/ from patient.
Even the nurse is fighting a smile now.
Chuuya turns his nose up. “That’s fine. I can wait.I’m patient. I can hold a /grudge/.”
Little /liar/. He’s /far/ from patient.
Even the nurse is fighting a smile now.
Dazaj would never admit it to anyone else but the idea of Chuuya sticking around that long is—
/Very/ nice. Natural, even, like they’re both settling into something that was just /meant/ to be, a future Dazai can finally envision for himself.
He’s never dreamed about the
/Very/ nice. Natural, even, like they’re both settling into something that was just /meant/ to be, a future Dazai can finally envision for himself.
He’s never dreamed about the
future about. Viciously forced himself /not/ to think about it, because he hated the idea of it, the idea of /still/ being here despite that he’d promised himself so many times that he /wouldn’t/ be anymore.
But you know what? A future with Chuuya sounds pretty damn good.
But you know what? A future with Chuuya sounds pretty damn good.
“I’ll be counting on it,” he says in response, tapping Chuuya on the back of his head lightly with his fingers. “Don’t let me down, little brat.”
(He can’t see it, but Chuuya sticks his tongue out at that. The nurse does though, and the amusement she’s been fighting finally
(He can’t see it, but Chuuya sticks his tongue out at that. The nurse does though, and the amusement she’s been fighting finally
breaks through.)
“You two are very cute,” she tells them, leading them past the reception desk on the first floor. The lobby is already starting to fill up with patients, even though it’s still early on a Saturday. “How long have you been together?”
Dazai beams at her,
“You two are very cute,” she tells them, leading them past the reception desk on the first floor. The lobby is already starting to fill up with patients, even though it’s still early on a Saturday. “How long have you been together?”
Dazai beams at her,
answering before Chuuya can. “Almost six months,” he says, not wanting to pick a time that lands /before/ Chuuya’s 18th birthday, just in case she knows his age. “It’s quick, but... when you know, you know, right?”
The nurse ‘aww’s’, clasping her hands together. “That’s so
The nurse ‘aww’s’, clasping her hands together. “That’s so
/romantic/! Like a movie! Everyone must be so happy for you two.”
“Oh yeah, /ecstatic/,” Chuuya says, amused, “His son, in particular, /loved/ getting the news.”
Dazai flicks him in the back of the head again, wishing he hadn’t brought /that/ up. Dazai’s trying to cheer him
“Oh yeah, /ecstatic/,” Chuuya says, amused, “His son, in particular, /loved/ getting the news.”
Dazai flicks him in the back of the head again, wishing he hadn’t brought /that/ up. Dazai’s trying to cheer him
/up/, and trying to cover their story. He’s making it /difficult/.
Chuuya gets parked on the sidewalk just outside of the doors. The nurse— Naomi, her upside-down name tag reads— waits with him while Dazai goes to get the car.
Thankfully, his car /hasn’t/ been towed or fined
Chuuya gets parked on the sidewalk just outside of the doors. The nurse— Naomi, her upside-down name tag reads— waits with him while Dazai goes to get the car.
Thankfully, his car /hasn’t/ been towed or fined
while they were in the hospital, though there is a sticky note slapped onto the hood with a scribbled “>:(“ face on it.
Whatever. He crumples the note up, shoving it into his pocket to throw away later, starting the car.
When he parks next to Chuuya on the street, he looks
Whatever. He crumples the note up, shoving it into his pocket to throw away later, starting the car.
When he parks next to Chuuya on the street, he looks
/giddy/. Dazai squints at him through the side window as he reaches over to unlock the door.
He’s up to something.
Chuuya, stubborn as always, doesn’t wait to be picked up or moved into the car himself. When Dazai gets out and comes around to open the door for him, he’s
He’s up to something.
Chuuya, stubborn as always, doesn’t wait to be picked up or moved into the car himself. When Dazai gets out and comes around to open the door for him, he’s
pushing up out of the wheelchair with a cheery wave.
Naomi waves back at him, grinning. Before Dazai can shut the door, she’s calling out, “Bye! Good luck. Feel better. Oh— tell your son I hope he has a good first day at Kindergarten!”
Dazai /chokes/. Chuuya smirks.
Naomi waves back at him, grinning. Before Dazai can shut the door, she’s calling out, “Bye! Good luck. Feel better. Oh— tell your son I hope he has a good first day at Kindergarten!”
Dazai /chokes/. Chuuya smirks.
Shutting the door with a strained smile, Dazai says, “I will, thank you. Goodbye.”
When he slides back into the drivers seat,he looks at Chuuya with disbelief. “You told her he was in /kindergarten/?” He hisses quietly, so she doesn’t hear.
Chuuya shrugs. “What? I’m justified.”
When he slides back into the drivers seat,he looks at Chuuya with disbelief. “You told her he was in /kindergarten/?” He hisses quietly, so she doesn’t hear.
Chuuya shrugs. “What? I’m justified.”
When Dazai doesn’t answer immediately, smoothly pulling out into traffic instead, Chuuya continues, “He’s an ass. Besides, it was funny.”
Alright, Dazai /does/ have to give him that one, it was pretty damn funny. Especially when he imagines Shuuji’s indignant reaction if he
Alright, Dazai /does/ have to give him that one, it was pretty damn funny. Especially when he imagines Shuuji’s indignant reaction if he
ever found out a /girl/— a pretty one too, not that Dazai would ever admit that because Chuuya is /jealous/, but he does still have eyes. Not that she even comes close to Chuuya though— thought he was a baby that still cried and needed to be tucked in at night—
Yeah, it’s funny.
Yeah, it’s funny.
Plus, the fact that Chuuya feels good enough to be joking around at all— even though it seems to have taken most of his energy, because now he’s slumped against his seat with his head tipped back and his eyes closed— feels like a good sign.
It doesn’t ease the worry gnawing at
It doesn’t ease the worry gnawing at
Dazai’s insides. In fact, it seems to just give it more to chew on, taking every scrap of ‘good’ news and reminding him that it’s not /enough/.
Maybe that feeling will never go away.
Sliding one hand across the center console, he offers it to Chuuya. Cold, slender fingers
Maybe that feeling will never go away.
Sliding one hand across the center console, he offers it to Chuuya. Cold, slender fingers
interlace with his own.
"Are you hungry?" He asks gently, hoping he has an appetite. The meager breakfast the nurses brought him in the hospital was rejected with an upturned nose, and he didn't eat last night either. Probably hasn't eaten in a while now, and even if the IV's
"Are you hungry?" He asks gently, hoping he has an appetite. The meager breakfast the nurses brought him in the hospital was rejected with an upturned nose, and he didn't eat last night either. Probably hasn't eaten in a while now, and even if the IV's
/did/ give him some sustenance and nutrients, he needs something to /eat/. Something solid in his stomach.
"Yes," Chuuya mumbles, curling up sideways in the seat so his back is pressed against the door and his temple is resting against the headrest. "But I just wanna go home."
"Yes," Chuuya mumbles, curling up sideways in the seat so his back is pressed against the door and his temple is resting against the headrest. "But I just wanna go home."
Dazai hopes he's talking about /his/ home that way, like it's the source of his comfort and the only thing he wants right now.
"Alright," he murmurs, "I'll take you home."
On the straightaway, he presses his knee against the underside of the steering wheel, taking control. It's
"Alright," he murmurs, "I'll take you home."
On the straightaway, he presses his knee against the underside of the steering wheel, taking control. It's
not exactly /safe/ to drive with his knees, but it allows him to use his other hand to reach underneath himself and pull out his phone from his back pocket.
Keeping the car carefully in the center of the lane, he offers his phone to Chuuya. "Do you want to order something?
Keeping the car carefully in the center of the lane, he offers his phone to Chuuya. "Do you want to order something?
Anything. It should be almost ready by the time we get home."
Chuuya takes the phone with a sigh. He enters in the passcode when Dazai gives it to him, and navigates to the food delivery apps.
Dazai's not worried about him finding anything incriminating. That phone is clean,
Chuuya takes the phone with a sigh. He enters in the passcode when Dazai gives it to him, and navigates to the food delivery apps.
Dazai's not worried about him finding anything incriminating. That phone is clean,
not at all attached to his work. He only uses it for legal activities.
Though, Chuuya /might/ be concerned if he sees how many pictures Dazai has taken of him sleeping or unawares.
Chuuya scrolls for a while, making a face every once in a while. Dazai leaves him to it, keeping
Though, Chuuya /might/ be concerned if he sees how many pictures Dazai has taken of him sleeping or unawares.
Chuuya scrolls for a while, making a face every once in a while. Dazai leaves him to it, keeping
his eyes on the road. He's not /rushing/ home but he's not taking his time either.
"I got ramen from the place we usually order from," Chuuya says, getting his attention. "You want your usual?"
The fact that Chuuya /knows/ what his usual is and can order without him having to
"I got ramen from the place we usually order from," Chuuya says, getting his attention. "You want your usual?"
The fact that Chuuya /knows/ what his usual is and can order without him having to
tell him makes him feel /warm/. Likes he's being known and accepted.
"Yes," he murmurs back, squeezing his hand gratefully. He hasn't eaten either, since about lunch yesterday. His stomach hasn't started protesting yet, but he's sure it will soon.
"Okay."
A few moments later
"Yes," he murmurs back, squeezing his hand gratefully. He hasn't eaten either, since about lunch yesterday. His stomach hasn't started protesting yet, but he's sure it will soon.
"Okay."
A few moments later
and his phone is falling to Chuuya's seat, now that it's use is over. Chuuya tucks it under his butt to keep it from moving, but otherwise just curls tighter into the seat.
By the time they finally arrive home, Chuuya is nearly asleep in the passenger seat. He looks like he's
By the time they finally arrive home, Chuuya is nearly asleep in the passenger seat. He looks like he's
fighting it, head bobbing up every so often as he blinks himself awake, but it's clear that he can't resist it for long.
The last few days have taken a lot out of him, and the anti-convulsants they gave him, in particular, are making him drowsy. On a normal day, he might be able
The last few days have taken a lot out of him, and the anti-convulsants they gave him, in particular, are making him drowsy. On a normal day, he might be able
to push through it and function well, but when he's fresh out of the hospital and exhausted--
It's a wonder he's not asleep yet. He'll probably sleep the rest of the day away, and maybe even most of tomorrow.
Dazai parks the car in spot outside the house, giving himself enough
It's a wonder he's not asleep yet. He'll probably sleep the rest of the day away, and maybe even most of tomorrow.
Dazai parks the car in spot outside the house, giving himself enough
room to maneuver Chuuya out of the car. Even if he insists on walking, Dazai won't let him. Not when he looks mostly asleep.
Though, this time, when Dazai opens his door for him, it seems like he's finally accepted his limits. Instead of trying to get out or start walking, he
Though, this time, when Dazai opens his door for him, it seems like he's finally accepted his limits. Instead of trying to get out or start walking, he
just raises his arms, Dazai's phone in hand.
He's /light/, but solid in Dazai's hold, his arms slinging over his shoulder.He tucks his nose into his neck, hiding his face from the world as Dazai starts to bring him inside.
"Food's almost on the way," he mumbles, shaking Dazai's
He's /light/, but solid in Dazai's hold, his arms slinging over his shoulder.He tucks his nose into his neck, hiding his face from the world as Dazai starts to bring him inside.
"Food's almost on the way," he mumbles, shaking Dazai's
phone in example.
"Alright," Dazai responds, shifting his weight to one hand so he can unlock the front door. He braces himself as it swings open, because even though it's past breakfast time for them--
The dogs are still /much/ more excited to see Chuuya. As soon as the door
"Alright," Dazai responds, shifting his weight to one hand so he can unlock the front door. He braces himself as it swings open, because even though it's past breakfast time for them--
The dogs are still /much/ more excited to see Chuuya. As soon as the door
opens wide enough, Yoko and Kozo are jumping around his heels, each of them trying to get a good look at Chuuya.
Yoko even rears up on her hind legs and places her front paws on Dazai's hip as a balancing point as she sticks her nose into Chuuya's chest.
"Down, mutt," Dazai
Yoko even rears up on her hind legs and places her front paws on Dazai's hip as a balancing point as she sticks her nose into Chuuya's chest.
"Down, mutt," Dazai
mutters, but his words are soundly ignored when Chuuya drops a hand down and starts petting over Yoko's head. She pushes into it as much as she can, ears perking up at the attention. "You're encouraging her."
"I /missed/ her," Chuuya corrects sleepily, though he stops petting
"I /missed/ her," Chuuya corrects sleepily, though he stops petting
her and allows Dazai to maneuver him through the door and up the stairs.
The dogs, at least, still have manners on the stairs, but he's resigned to the idea that /some/ of their bad habits have been encouraged to the point where he can't punish them anymore.
For example, Yoko
The dogs, at least, still have manners on the stairs, but he's resigned to the idea that /some/ of their bad habits have been encouraged to the point where he can't punish them anymore.
For example, Yoko
races them into the bedroom and leaps onto the bed. She's whining with excitement,tail whipping and knocking everything off the bedside table as she hops from foot to foot.
His clean black bedsheets are a thing of the past, apparently. At least Chuuya's smile makes it worth it.
His clean black bedsheets are a thing of the past, apparently. At least Chuuya's smile makes it worth it.
With a sigh, he places Chuuya on the bed. “Be careful with him,” he warns Yoko sternly, but she ignores him in favor of crowding up to Chuuya and trying to lick his face.
There’s sweatpants and comfy sweaters in a section of the closet that has /slowly/ and subtly become
There’s sweatpants and comfy sweaters in a section of the closet that has /slowly/ and subtly become
/Chuuya’s/ side of the closet. Dazai pulls out his favorites and brings them over.
Kneeling in front of him, he takes off his shoes and socks, making sure he doesn’t tug too hard. It’s not /sexual/, like most undressing is between them, but it’s infused with a level of care
Kneeling in front of him, he takes off his shoes and socks, making sure he doesn’t tug too hard. It’s not /sexual/, like most undressing is between them, but it’s infused with a level of care
that Dazai hasn’t shown anyone else before.
It comes...surprisingly naturally.For a long time he was convinced that /caring/ was just not something he was capable of doing. When Shuuji moved in and Dazai didn’t immediately bond with him, it felt like confirmation of that theory.
It comes...surprisingly naturally.For a long time he was convinced that /caring/ was just not something he was capable of doing. When Shuuji moved in and Dazai didn’t immediately bond with him, it felt like confirmation of that theory.
Like there was something so deeply /wrong/ with him, like some essential part of him had been /stolen/ from him as child, that’s he’d never be /normal/ again.
Like he’d always be the leftover ghost of the Demon Prodigy, too lucky to die.
And maybe he never will be normal.
Like he’d always be the leftover ghost of the Demon Prodigy, too lucky to die.
And maybe he never will be normal.
He’s starting to discover that maybe that’s /okay/ because he has Chuuya and that’s enough for him.
He has someone that leans on him as he tugs the sweats up his slender legs until they’re snug on his hips.
He has someone that needs him, and maybe that’s all he really needs.
He has someone that leans on him as he tugs the sweats up his slender legs until they’re snug on his hips.
He has someone that needs him, and maybe that’s all he really needs.
Dazai’s phone, tosses on the bed earlier and forgotten, pings with a notification alert.
“That’s probably the food,” Chuuya mumbles, crossing his legs. Yoko takes that as her invitation to prove she’s a lap dog and climbs right on. He winces when her paws land heavily on his
“That’s probably the food,” Chuuya mumbles, crossing his legs. Yoko takes that as her invitation to prove she’s a lap dog and climbs right on. He winces when her paws land heavily on his
thighs, but he doesn’t stop her or push her away.
Yoko’s big enough that when she sits—awkwardly, with her butt on his legs and her front legs on the bed— that the only thing Dazai can see of Chuuya is his arms wrapping around her and hugging her close.
Kozo, meanwhile, has
Yoko’s big enough that when she sits—awkwardly, with her butt on his legs and her front legs on the bed— that the only thing Dazai can see of Chuuya is his arms wrapping around her and hugging her close.
Kozo, meanwhile, has
taken to sniffing Chuuya’s shoes and making little growling sounds at whatever he smells.
These dogs were born, bred and /trained/ to be weapons, but put them in a room with Chuuya and they become loving house pets. It’s endearing.
“Don’t let her crush you,” he sighs, reaching
These dogs were born, bred and /trained/ to be weapons, but put them in a room with Chuuya and they become loving house pets. It’s endearing.
“Don’t let her crush you,” he sighs, reaching
past him to get his phone. The notification, when he clicks on it, says the delivery driver is only a few streets away.
"Worth it," Chuuya mumbles, dragging Yoko closer, "Right, Yoko?"
Her answer is a big doggy smile, panting happily.
Downstairs, there's a knock on the door.
"Worth it," Chuuya mumbles, dragging Yoko closer, "Right, Yoko?"
Her answer is a big doggy smile, panting happily.
Downstairs, there's a knock on the door.
Leaving the dogs to smother Chuuya in their love, he heads downstairs. He brings his keys with him because he still needs to get the rest of Chuuya's stuff out of his car and move it into the garage.
On second thought, maybe he should keep his school stuff in the car? Maybe
On second thought, maybe he should keep his school stuff in the car? Maybe
seeing it so soon after he got the news that he wouldn't be returning this semester would be upsetting? He already has to go about the process of withdrawing, so maybe Dazai shouldn't shove a reminder under his nose?
Eh, he'll just leave his bag in his office. Somewhere /mostly/
Eh, he'll just leave his bag in his office. Somewhere /mostly/
hidden so he doesn't have to see it, but still easily accessible.
Another knock at the door, this one slightly louder than the last. They must be getting impatient.
Glad the dogs are upstairs-- they've always /hated/ delivery drivers, for good reason -- he opens the door.
Another knock at the door, this one slightly louder than the last. They must be getting impatient.
Glad the dogs are upstairs-- they've always /hated/ delivery drivers, for good reason -- he opens the door.
Standing just outside the door on the second step is a young kid, holding the bags of food in his hands. As soon as the door is opened, he's pushing it into Dazai's hands with a big grin. Too friendly, even.
Dazai takes it easily, bobbing his head in thanks. Reminding himself to
Dazai takes it easily, bobbing his head in thanks. Reminding himself to
send the kid a generous tip on the app-- his wallet is upstairs, and he doesn't want him to stick around to wait-- he shuts the door with a little wave.
Normally he doesn't eat in his bedroom. It reminds him too much of the times where his depression got /really/ bad and his
Normally he doesn't eat in his bedroom. It reminds him too much of the times where his depression got /really/ bad and his
bedroom was a sea of dirty dishes, empty sake bottles and dirty laundry for /months/.
These days, he keeps his house--and his room especially-- religiously clean, but today he can make an exception. He's not going to make Chuuya come down to eat.
Balancing two bowls and the
These days, he keeps his house--and his room especially-- religiously clean, but today he can make an exception. He's not going to make Chuuya come down to eat.
Balancing two bowls and the
little chocolate dessert Chuuya ordered on a tray-- even though it's barely lunchtime--, he brings the food up.
When he pushes the door open with his hip, Chuuya is exactly where he left him. He's leaning even harder against Yoko, like she's the only one holding him upright.
When he pushes the door open with his hip, Chuuya is exactly where he left him. He's leaning even harder against Yoko, like she's the only one holding him upright.
Unfortunately, Yoko /does/ have to get off the bed for this. She's an opportunistic eater, and if Chuuya puts a bowl of ramen under her nose, she'll end up eating it all.
Chuuya stirs when he sets the tray down on the bedside table, blinking heavily at him. When he sees the food
Chuuya stirs when he sets the tray down on the bedside table, blinking heavily at him. When he sees the food
he nudges Yoko with his head. "Down, girl," he orders, pushing her lightly.
After a moment, she goes. She's reluctant and curls up right underneath his feet, but she follows instructions like a good girl.
Dazai hands him his bowl, keeping an eye on him as he slowly begins to
After a moment, she goes. She's reluctant and curls up right underneath his feet, but she follows instructions like a good girl.
Dazai hands him his bowl, keeping an eye on him as he slowly begins to
eat. It's more mechanical than anything, without any of the usual enjoyment, but it /is/ eating, so Dazai will take it. He'll make him something for dinner later, maybe he'll like that more. He's always liked homecooked meals better than takeout.
Chuuya manages half of his ramen
Chuuya manages half of his ramen
and two bites of his dessert before he's pushing it away.
"Tired," he mutters, crawling underneath the blankets. He looks tiny underneath the comforter, curled into a ball with a pillow pulled to his chest. Only the ends of his hair sticks out.
After finishing his own bowl,
"Tired," he mutters, crawling underneath the blankets. He looks tiny underneath the comforter, curled into a ball with a pillow pulled to his chest. Only the ends of his hair sticks out.
After finishing his own bowl,
Dazai places the entire tray high up on the bedside table where the dogs can't reach it. He'll keep an eye on it to make sure they don't get into it and make a mess, but his /main/ goal right now is sliding underneath the blankets and finding Chuuya. Wrapping his arms around his
waist and bringing him into his chest, curling around him.
"It's too early for you to sleep," he mumbles in protest, though he's arching into his hold and wiggling to get more comfortable. One of his feet slides between Dazai's legs, hooking around the back of his calf.
Dazai
"It's too early for you to sleep," he mumbles in protest, though he's arching into his hold and wiggling to get more comfortable. One of his feet slides between Dazai's legs, hooking around the back of his calf.
Dazai
presses a smile against his hair, holding him tightly. "It's never too early for naptime."
But Dazai doesn't let himself nap. He gives himself an hour to just /enjoy/ and bask in the sensation of Chuuya sleep-warm and safe in his arms.
Lets the residual anxiety and worry work
But Dazai doesn't let himself nap. He gives himself an hour to just /enjoy/ and bask in the sensation of Chuuya sleep-warm and safe in his arms.
Lets the residual anxiety and worry work
through him in waves, counteracted every time Chuuya mumbles to himself in his sleep or curls up tighter into him.
/Loss/ is an emotion Dazai is familiar with, empty and hollowing, carving out pieces of him and filling them with a strange, endless grief. A grief that doesn’t
/Loss/ is an emotion Dazai is familiar with, empty and hollowing, carving out pieces of him and filling them with a strange, endless grief. A grief that doesn’t
/sting/ anymore, it just slowly rots and festers, forgotten.
To think he almost felt it /again/, with Chuuya is—
It’s awful. He hates it. And even though Chuuya is still here, still warm and breathing and safe, Dazai can’t help but think—
/ What if? What if I actually lost
To think he almost felt it /again/, with Chuuya is—
It’s awful. He hates it. And even though Chuuya is still here, still warm and breathing and safe, Dazai can’t help but think—
/ What if? What if I actually lost
him? What if it was /my/ fault? /
It’s a thought that doesn’t go away.
Eventually, Dazai manages to pull himself away. He still has to get his prescriptions because he’ll need them tomorrow morning. It’s still early on Saturday, so this is a perfect time, when Chuuya is
It’s a thought that doesn’t go away.
Eventually, Dazai manages to pull himself away. He still has to get his prescriptions because he’ll need them tomorrow morning. It’s still early on Saturday, so this is a perfect time, when Chuuya is
sleeping and won’t need him.
Giving the dogs the command to guard him and feeling reassured when Yoko hops up to take his place in the bed while Kozo lays across the floor blocking the entrance, Dazai leaves.
He makes sure to put Chuuya’s phone in easy reach, and turns his own
Giving the dogs the command to guard him and feeling reassured when Yoko hops up to take his place in the bed while Kozo lays across the floor blocking the entrance, Dazai leaves.
He makes sure to put Chuuya’s phone in easy reach, and turns his own
phone onto the highest notification noise possible. If Chuuya needs him he’ll call, and he doesn’t want to miss it.
There’s a pharmacy inside one of the general stores not too far from his house. He goes there because it’s the closest.
The pharmacist takes the prescriptions
There’s a pharmacy inside one of the general stores not too far from his house. He goes there because it’s the closest.
The pharmacist takes the prescriptions
from him and advises him that it’ll be a twenty minute wait before they can be filled.
Dazai spends that time wandering the aisles and picking out all the things Chuuya might like while he’s recovering. Most of the medical stuff— like heat pads and Tylenol— Dazai already has
Dazai spends that time wandering the aisles and picking out all the things Chuuya might like while he’s recovering. Most of the medical stuff— like heat pads and Tylenol— Dazai already has
but things like candy— Chuuya has a /love/ for dark chocolate that Dazai will simply never understand and an obsession with sour candies— an extra soft blanket, a face mask or two, never /hurt/.
Besides, he’s pretty sure at least /one/ of his medications require absolutely no
Besides, he’s pretty sure at least /one/ of his medications require absolutely no
alcohol intake for the foreseeable future so—
He’s going to need a /bribe/ when he tells him that he can’t even take a /sip/ of wine for the next few weeks. A /good/ bribe, one that will stop him from biting him in retaliation or something equally bratty.
When the twenty
He’s going to need a /bribe/ when he tells him that he can’t even take a /sip/ of wine for the next few weeks. A /good/ bribe, one that will stop him from biting him in retaliation or something equally bratty.
When the twenty
minutes are up and his handheld cart is filled to the brim with things for Chuuya, he goes to get his medication.
The pharmacist is nice, explains everything about how the medicine should be taken. Dazai listens intently, memorizing all the information, but doesn’t stay for
The pharmacist is nice, explains everything about how the medicine should be taken. Dazai listens intently, memorizing all the information, but doesn’t stay for
small talk. He’s already getting antsy being away for Chuuya this long.
Abandonment issues have /always/ haunted Dazai but now he’s starting to suspect he’s delving straight into /separation anxiety/. Like a dog or something.
When he gets back to the house, he parks the car in
Abandonment issues have /always/ haunted Dazai but now he’s starting to suspect he’s delving straight into /separation anxiety/. Like a dog or something.
When he gets back to the house, he parks the car in
the garage where it belongs. Without Shuuji driving the other car, it’s easy to get all of his vehicles perfectly lined up and parked.
At the last second, he remembers Chuuya’s bag and slings it over his shoulder to bring inside.
Neither of the dogs greet him when he gets
At the last second, he remembers Chuuya’s bag and slings it over his shoulder to bring inside.
Neither of the dogs greet him when he gets
inside. Expected, because they /should/ still be guarding Chuuya.
First, he puts the chocolate in the fridge and the candy in the pantry. The medications he’ll take upstairs to put in his bathroom, same with the new chibi-sized fluffy blanket.
He can vaguely hear someone
First, he puts the chocolate in the fridge and the candy in the pantry. The medications he’ll take upstairs to put in his bathroom, same with the new chibi-sized fluffy blanket.
He can vaguely hear someone
talking upstairs; it /sounds/ like Chuuya, but it’s hard to tell.
Maybe he woke up and turned the TV on to watch something? If he’s awake he should eat some more. He’s too /thin/, Dazai doesn’t like how sharp his collarbones have gotten lately. It’s worrying.
He heads upstairs.
Maybe he woke up and turned the TV on to watch something? If he’s awake he should eat some more. He’s too /thin/, Dazai doesn’t like how sharp his collarbones have gotten lately. It’s worrying.
He heads upstairs.
Dropping Chuuya’s bag into the corner of his office, he makes his way into the bedroom, medication in hand.
“— daddy?”
Perking up, figuring that Chuuya is talking to /him/, Dazai pushes open the door and steps over Kozo in the doorway—
To find Chuuya on the phone, looking
“— daddy?”
Perking up, figuring that Chuuya is talking to /him/, Dazai pushes open the door and steps over Kozo in the doorway—
To find Chuuya on the phone, looking
exasperated. He’s sitting up with Yoko sprawled across his lap, blankets bunched up between them.
When he sees Dazai, he motions to the phone and mouths, “It’s my dad.”
Oh.
Well at least /that/ mix up happened when his father /wasn’t/ in the room, otherwise that might’ve
When he sees Dazai, he motions to the phone and mouths, “It’s my dad.”
Oh.
Well at least /that/ mix up happened when his father /wasn’t/ in the room, otherwise that might’ve
been awkward for Chuuya.
Giving them a chance to talk, Dazai puts the medications in the medicine cabinet in his bathroom. They’re the only medications in there, the only ones Dazai trusts himself to keep in easy reach.
Then he pads back into the bedroom, going over to drop a
Giving them a chance to talk, Dazai puts the medications in the medicine cabinet in his bathroom. They’re the only medications in there, the only ones Dazai trusts himself to keep in easy reach.
Then he pads back into the bedroom, going over to drop a
kiss on Chuuya’s forehead before heading downstairs to make him something to eat—
A hand on his arm stops him in his tracks.
Chuuya holds the phone out to him. “He wants to talk to you.”
Dazai blinks at him. “He wants to what?” He repeats, figuring he heard wrong or—
A hand on his arm stops him in his tracks.
Chuuya holds the phone out to him. “He wants to talk to you.”
Dazai blinks at him. “He wants to what?” He repeats, figuring he heard wrong or—
But no:
"I said he wants to talk to you."
Ah. Well, that's /awkward/ for Dazai.
He's never spoken to the parents of his partners before. He's always been careful never to let it get /that/ far, and most of sexual partners wouldn't think he was 'meet the parents' material.
"I said he wants to talk to you."
Ah. Well, that's /awkward/ for Dazai.
He's never spoken to the parents of his partners before. He's always been careful never to let it get /that/ far, and most of sexual partners wouldn't think he was 'meet the parents' material.
Well,he /did/ talk to Sasaki's father once, but that was when he was /sixteen/ and that entire conversation consisted entirely of putting his phone on speaker and letting him scream obscenities at him while Dazai silently played a racing video game.
That probably doesn't count.
That probably doesn't count.
But Chuuya's looking at him /expectantly/ and it's already been several seconds since he said it and--
And Dazai /really/ wants this relationship to go well, and he knows that Chuuya thinks a lot of his father, despite their somewhat complicated relationship. He can't just say
And Dazai /really/ wants this relationship to go well, and he knows that Chuuya thinks a lot of his father, despite their somewhat complicated relationship. He can't just say
/no/, it would be rude so--
He takes the phone, unreasonably nervous, and brings it to his ear. "Hello?"
The voice on the other side of the call sounds /harried/, frayed at the edges with worry. Also /irritated/. "It's Dazai, right?"
Honestly, it's a little /surreal/ to be
He takes the phone, unreasonably nervous, and brings it to his ear. "Hello?"
The voice on the other side of the call sounds /harried/, frayed at the edges with worry. Also /irritated/. "It's Dazai, right?"
Honestly, it's a little /surreal/ to be
talking to man who is /probably/ close to his age (the age difference between him and Chuuya is something he chooses not to think about too hard or too often) and /far/ less powerful than him in terms of economic status and power, as some sort of respected figure. Like a father
in law.
"Yes," he responds, keeping his expression neutral. "And you're Rimbaud."
God, he's so /bad/ at this. Chuuya's staring right at him, expecting him to impress his father, and Dazai's mind is /blank/.
"How long have you been dating my son?"
Here's the tricky part: Dazai
"Yes," he responds, keeping his expression neutral. "And you're Rimbaud."
God, he's so /bad/ at this. Chuuya's staring right at him, expecting him to impress his father, and Dazai's mind is /blank/.
"How long have you been dating my son?"
Here's the tricky part: Dazai
doesn't actually /know/ what Chuuya told his father. He doesn't know if there's a /lie/ he's supposed to collaborate on, or a story that's /already/ been told--
He's /winging/ it.
"Uh," he starts, hoping Chuuya went with the /truth/. "About six weeks...?
The response he gets
He's /winging/ it.
"Uh," he starts, hoping Chuuya went with the /truth/. "About six weeks...?
The response he gets
isn't /immediately/ aggressive or angry, so it seems he made the right choice. "I don't mean to be rude, you must understand-- it's just a /shock/ to hear that my /son/ is dating someone for six weeks and didn't tell me. Not to /mention/ that he's sick enough to warrant /dropping
out/. I'm sure you can understand my concern."
Slightly hysterical, Dazai thinks about responding with 'yes, as a father, I /completely/ understand' just to see what would happen.
"I do," he mutters instead, sinking down to sit on the bed. "But I can assure you that I'm going
Slightly hysterical, Dazai thinks about responding with 'yes, as a father, I /completely/ understand' just to see what would happen.
"I do," he mutters instead, sinking down to sit on the bed. "But I can assure you that I'm going
to take care of him and he's going to get better soon."
There's an aggravated sigh, the sounds of papers rustling on the other side of the phone. "For your sake, I hope so. It's too soon for you two to be living together, so I really think he should return home, but he's being
There's an aggravated sigh, the sounds of papers rustling on the other side of the phone. "For your sake, I hope so. It's too soon for you two to be living together, so I really think he should return home, but he's being
/stubborn/."
That is something they haven't discussed yet. Dazai was under the impression that the silent agreement was that Chuuya would stay with /him/,but they should talk about it. He would understand if Chuuya wanted to go home, but he hopes he stays here with him. It would
That is something they haven't discussed yet. Dazai was under the impression that the silent agreement was that Chuuya would stay with /him/,but they should talk about it. He would understand if Chuuya wanted to go home, but he hopes he stays here with him. It would
make him feel a /lot/ more secure and comfortable with him still in sight and under his protection--
But he's not going to say /no/ if Chuuya wants to go home.
"With all due respect, sir," Dazai grits out, his natural rebellion against authority rearing it's head, "your son is
But he's not going to say /no/ if Chuuya wants to go home.
"With all due respect, sir," Dazai grits out, his natural rebellion against authority rearing it's head, "your son is
an adult and he can make his own choices. He's welcome to stay here as long as he likes."
He makes eye contact with Chuuya on the last sentence, making sure to get his point across to him clearly.
He means it. He's more than welcome to stay here. Forever, if he wanted to.
He makes eye contact with Chuuya on the last sentence, making sure to get his point across to him clearly.
He means it. He's more than welcome to stay here. Forever, if he wanted to.
Another sigh. "I guess you're right," Rimbaud concedes begrudgingly, though he doesn't sound /happy/ about it, "Though I do wish he wouldn't. Nothing personal, I'm just not sure who /you/ are. How do I know you're treating him fairly?"
How,indeed.
"I suppose you could ask him,"
How,indeed.
"I suppose you could ask him,"
he says dryly.
"Well-- let's just say that you /better/ treat him right, because I have some friends in some /very/ high places."
/ Oh, yeah? Well, I have a /gun/, so now what? /
Naturally, he doesn't actually say that, tucking his irritation away. He's always hated
"Well-- let's just say that you /better/ treat him right, because I have some friends in some /very/ high places."
/ Oh, yeah? Well, I have a /gun/, so now what? /
Naturally, he doesn't actually say that, tucking his irritation away. He's always hated
overprotective parents for this exact reason. They threaten and posture, instead of teaching their children how to protect themselves and recognize red flags.
"I understand," he sighs, even though he's /curious/ as to what he means by 'friends in high places'.
Personally, Dazai
"I understand," he sighs, even though he's /curious/ as to what he means by 'friends in high places'.
Personally, Dazai
has friends in /low/ places, which he finds are often more /effective/, but his father doesn't need to know that.
"I'll keep in touch," Rimbaud sniffs, and Dazai /almost/ reflexively asks him if that's a /threat/ before he reigns it in. "I want to know more about the man my son
"I'll keep in touch," Rimbaud sniffs, and Dazai /almost/ reflexively asks him if that's a /threat/ before he reigns it in. "I want to know more about the man my son
is dating."
Lovely, now Dazai has to come up with /another/ cover story that won't be questioned by Chuuya. "Right. Is there anything else you would like to talk about or...?"
"Not right now. I'll have some questions for you later, but I would like to talk to Chuuya again."
Lovely, now Dazai has to come up with /another/ cover story that won't be questioned by Chuuya. "Right. Is there anything else you would like to talk about or...?"
"Not right now. I'll have some questions for you later, but I would like to talk to Chuuya again."
Feeling like he dodged a bullet with this impromptu conversation-- which sounds impromptu on /both/ sides, so he's sure there will be an /interrogation/ the next time they talk-- he hands the phone back over.
Chuuya takes it with an irritated. "Are you happy now, Daddy?"
Dazai
Chuuya takes it with an irritated. "Are you happy now, Daddy?"
Dazai
winces. He /really/ wishes he didn't call him that, especially when he's /right/ here.
Because--
His /mind/ is telling him that it's innocent and /inappropriate/ to think of it any other way, not to mention that it illustrates how /young/ Chuuya is.
His /libido/ on the other
Because--
His /mind/ is telling him that it's innocent and /inappropriate/ to think of it any other way, not to mention that it illustrates how /young/ Chuuya is.
His /libido/ on the other
hand is looking with both eyes /wide/ open, and it feels /wrong/, oh god, it feels /so/ wrong--
Which is probably why he /likes/ it so much.
Why does Chuuya still call his dad that? /Especially/ after calling /Dazai/ daddy? Isn't there some one-daddy-only rule or--
"I /will/,
Which is probably why he /likes/ it so much.
Why does Chuuya still call his dad that? /Especially/ after calling /Dazai/ daddy? Isn't there some one-daddy-only rule or--
"I /will/,
I promise," Chuuya says, rolling his eyes in a clear sign that he's not /actually/ going to.
Good for him.
"/Yes/, Daddy."
Dazai covers his face with his hands, sighing. When will this call be over?
"I'm /hanging/ up now, okay? /No/. Goodbye-- Yes, /okay/, now /goodbye/."
Good for him.
"/Yes/, Daddy."
Dazai covers his face with his hands, sighing. When will this call be over?
"I'm /hanging/ up now, okay? /No/. Goodbye-- Yes, /okay/, now /goodbye/."
With an exasperated grunt, Chuuya slams the ‘end call’ button and throws his phone into the bed. His face drops into his hands a moment later, letting out a long groan.
“Sorry,” he mutters, “I tried to tell him no, but he’s stubborn as fuck.”
So it’s /genetic/, huh? Runs in
“Sorry,” he mutters, “I tried to tell him no, but he’s stubborn as fuck.”
So it’s /genetic/, huh? Runs in
the family.
“No problem, baby,” Dazai reassures him, reaching out one hand and finding his knee. He squeezes it gently. “It didn’t bother me. It was... /interesting/ to meet him.”
Interesting is one word for it.
“Thanks,” he mumbles back. “Sounded like he liked you though.”
“No problem, baby,” Dazai reassures him, reaching out one hand and finding his knee. He squeezes it gently. “It didn’t bother me. It was... /interesting/ to meet him.”
Interesting is one word for it.
“Thanks,” he mumbles back. “Sounded like he liked you though.”
Well, he basically threatened him, which probably counts for /something/.
He shrugs.
“He did give me some advice on how to start withdrawing from school, though. I’ll have to go in on Monday, talk to administration.”
That makes sense. Dazai nods, giving his knee another
He shrugs.
“He did give me some advice on how to start withdrawing from school, though. I’ll have to go in on Monday, talk to administration.”
That makes sense. Dazai nods, giving his knee another
squeeze. He’ll probably have to move all his stuff out of his dorm as well.
Maybe he’ll move it into Dazai’s room instead? There’s plenty of room here, everything will fit—
That’s a conversation they’ll have /soon/ but not right now. Right now he needs support for this.
Maybe he’ll move it into Dazai’s room instead? There’s plenty of room here, everything will fit—
That’s a conversation they’ll have /soon/ but not right now. Right now he needs support for this.
“Okay, I’ll take you in,” he says. “I’ll help you pack too, if you need it.”
Per doctors orders, he /will/ need it, but he doesn’t want to force it on him. There’s a fine line between being /supportive/ and overbearing. It has to seem like it’s Chuuya’s choice.
Chuuya’s
Per doctors orders, he /will/ need it, but he doesn’t want to force it on him. There’s a fine line between being /supportive/ and overbearing. It has to seem like it’s Chuuya’s choice.
Chuuya’s
voice wobbles a little as he asks, “Will you help me email my professors?”
Dazai isn’t sure they even /need/ to be emailed about this, but if Chuuya wants to do it and feels it’s necessary, then of course he’ll help. “Yeah.”
Some people, when they feel overloaded, immediately
Dazai isn’t sure they even /need/ to be emailed about this, but if Chuuya wants to do it and feels it’s necessary, then of course he’ll help. “Yeah.”
Some people, when they feel overloaded, immediately
start to show signs of it. They cry, they yell, they vent, they scream. Arguably, it’s a much healthier way of dealing with their problems.
But some people bottle things up. They hold it in and let it fester. Let it eat away at them, slowly growing bigger and bigger. Slowly
But some people bottle things up. They hold it in and let it fester. Let it eat away at them, slowly growing bigger and bigger. Slowly
filling them up until it’s a struggle to hold themselves together around the weight of it.
Sometimes it’s the /small/ things that are the straw that breaks the camels back.
In the end, it’s not emailing his professors that makes Chuuya /crack/—
It’s a scratch at the window.
Sometimes it’s the /small/ things that are the straw that breaks the camels back.
In the end, it’s not emailing his professors that makes Chuuya /crack/—
It’s a scratch at the window.
By now, it's evening. Right about the time where Dazai usually feeds the dogs right before making his own dinner. Chuuya's been snacking ever since the phone call ended, so he can only hope that he'll /actually/ eat dinner.
Of course, Dazai has /recently/ taken to feeding one
Of course, Dazai has /recently/ taken to feeding one
other being at dinnertime--
The /cat/.
It's routine enough that the stray has started to show up regularly at this time. Dazai wasn't here to feed him yesterday, and so he probably didn't get to eat. Now, Dazai is running a /little/ behind on schedule, and the cat has decided
The /cat/.
It's routine enough that the stray has started to show up regularly at this time. Dazai wasn't here to feed him yesterday, and so he probably didn't get to eat. Now, Dazai is running a /little/ behind on schedule, and the cat has decided
that he's going to express his disappointment and irritation--
By climbing up to the balcony-- somehow-- and scratching at the window while meowing loudly.
"He keeps on coming back," Chuuya mutters, and Dazai isn't looking at him, so he doesn't see his lip start to wobble.
By climbing up to the balcony-- somehow-- and scratching at the window while meowing loudly.
"He keeps on coming back," Chuuya mutters, and Dazai isn't looking at him, so he doesn't see his lip start to wobble.
"Yeah. He's just hungry. He'll go away once he eats, probably."
The cat usually sticks around for attention if Chuuya is dishing it out, but if they ignore him, he eventually wanders off.
"He's /hungry/--" Chuuya's voice cracks here, and here is where Dazai starts to realize
The cat usually sticks around for attention if Chuuya is dishing it out, but if they ignore him, he eventually wanders off.
"He's /hungry/--" Chuuya's voice cracks here, and here is where Dazai starts to realize
something is /wrong/. "--and he's /homeless/ and he's probably /cold/ and--"
He cuts himself off there with a loud,shuddering inhale like he's trying to hold back the wave of emotion he's experiencing.
Turning his head, Dazai stares at him in concern. He's always been emotional
He cuts himself off there with a loud,shuddering inhale like he's trying to hold back the wave of emotion he's experiencing.
Turning his head, Dazai stares at him in concern. He's always been emotional
over the stray, sure, but not enough to have tears pooling in his eyes like that.
What does he /say/?
"He'll probably be adopted soon," he soothes, even though he's not too sure. That cat has been a stray for almost as long as Dazai has lived here. He's not sure anyone else in
What does he /say/?
"He'll probably be adopted soon," he soothes, even though he's not too sure. That cat has been a stray for almost as long as Dazai has lived here. He's not sure anyone else in
the neighborhood wants him or even pays attention to him. His best chance is probably getting picked up by animal control. "And then someone will take him home and love him."
That is the wrong thing to say.
Chuuya's face crumples immediately. "But /I/ love him!" he wails.
That is the wrong thing to say.
Chuuya's face crumples immediately. "But /I/ love him!" he wails.
And then he does what is, in Dazai’s opinion, probably the /worst/ possible reaction ever:
He bursts into tears.Loud, gasping sobs that wrack his entire body and make him shake. His hands come up to cover his face, but that does nothing to lessen the sheer /force/ of his crying.
He bursts into tears.Loud, gasping sobs that wrack his entire body and make him shake. His hands come up to cover his face, but that does nothing to lessen the sheer /force/ of his crying.
Dazai feels like he’s watching his life flash before his eyes, nearly stupid with fear because—
He doesn’t know what to /do/. What happened? How does he make it better, get him to stop /sobbing/ like his heart is being torn out of his chest?
“It’s gonna be okay, baby,” he
He doesn’t know what to /do/. What happened? How does he make it better, get him to stop /sobbing/ like his heart is being torn out of his chest?
“It’s gonna be okay, baby,” he
soothes mindlessly, reaching out to him.
That’s an even /worse/ thing to say,apparently.
“No, it’s /not/!” Chuuya cries, voice thick and wet. “I have to drop out of school because of my stupid brain and, and—I might have to go /home/ and I don’t want to, and the cat is HUNGRY!”
That’s an even /worse/ thing to say,apparently.
“No, it’s /not/!” Chuuya cries, voice thick and wet. “I have to drop out of school because of my stupid brain and, and—I might have to go /home/ and I don’t want to, and the cat is HUNGRY!”
Dazai hasn’t ever /seen/ Chuuya like this. He’s been emotional sometimes, sure, but it usually gets displayed in shows of irritation or anger.
He’s never seen him /sob/ like this, and it’s shocking, even if he can logically understand why he’s breaking down.
Instead of trying
He’s never seen him /sob/ like this, and it’s shocking, even if he can logically understand why he’s breaking down.
Instead of trying
to talk him down again—because /clearly/ Dazai just makes it worse when he opens his mouth—, he scoots closer and drapes an arm across his shoulders.
He’s not sure if Chuuya would mind between restrained with a hug right now, so he’s testing the waters first.
Chuuya doesn’t
He’s not sure if Chuuya would mind between restrained with a hug right now, so he’s testing the waters first.
Chuuya doesn’t
exactly fight him but neither does he really lean into the comfort as he continues to spiral.
“I worked /so/ fucking hard to get into Keio and, and— now it’s /over/ and my /life/ is over and now i’m /behind/ everyone else so I’m never going to get a /good job/ and I’m gonna be
“I worked /so/ fucking hard to get into Keio and, and— now it’s /over/ and my /life/ is over and now i’m /behind/ everyone else so I’m never going to get a /good job/ and I’m gonna be
/homeless/ and work at— work at a /convience store/ forever!”
Okay, so he’s /clearly/ not thinking logically right now, because /that/ is a very big conclusion to make just because he has to take a semester off.
Dazai doesn’t /tell/ him that, of course, because even if he’s
Okay, so he’s /clearly/ not thinking logically right now, because /that/ is a very big conclusion to make just because he has to take a semester off.
Dazai doesn’t /tell/ him that, of course, because even if he’s
being /dramatic/, that doesn’t mean his emotions aren’t valid. Or that he doesn’t have a right to be breaking down right now.
He shushes him, chest aching for him, pulling him closer in an effort to calm him down.
“I’ve always wanted a cat and I’m never gonna have one because
He shushes him, chest aching for him, pulling him closer in an effort to calm him down.
“I’ve always wanted a cat and I’m never gonna have one because
my dad hates them and I’m gonna grow up to be a /failure/!”
Poor thing. Sets such impossibly high standards for himself that he really thinks his life is over at /eighteen/ because he got sick for a few weeks.
Now, Dazai /could/ try to talk him down or just wait until this
Poor thing. Sets such impossibly high standards for himself that he really thinks his life is over at /eighteen/ because he got sick for a few weeks.
Now, Dazai /could/ try to talk him down or just wait until this
wave of emotions passes and they can have an actual conversation about this—
But there is a simple solution to at least /one/ of those problems.
Getting up, he walks over to the balcony door. The cat stares at him as he approaches, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
It’s not like
But there is a simple solution to at least /one/ of those problems.
Getting up, he walks over to the balcony door. The cat stares at him as he approaches, eyes narrowed suspiciously.
It’s not like
Dazai /hates/ cats, he just doesn’t prefer them. And if it’ll make Chuuya happy— and give him a reason to stay— and make his recovery easier, then as far as he’s concerned, the cat is already his.
When he opens the door, the orange cat trots inside with it’s tail held high and
When he opens the door, the orange cat trots inside with it’s tail held high and
waving smugly like he’s saying ‘took you long enough’.
Yoko and Kozo watch from the floor with interest, but the cat ignores them with the arrogance a cat can have, trotting up to the bed easily.
“There,” Dazai announces, shutting the door again. “Now you have a cat.”
Yoko and Kozo watch from the floor with interest, but the cat ignores them with the arrogance a cat can have, trotting up to the bed easily.
“There,” Dazai announces, shutting the door again. “Now you have a cat.”
Chuuya strangles back another sob, looking up. His face is a /wreck/, face splotchy and tears running down his cheeks. The blue of his eyes looks even more intense with how /red/ they are.
“What?” He chokes out, furiously trying to wipe his face clean. It’s clear he’s not
“What?” He chokes out, furiously trying to wipe his face clean. It’s clear he’s not
/done/ yet, but he’s trying to get himself back under control.
The cat, after looking around cautiously, hops up onto the bed.
“I told you earlier, Chuuya,” Dazai reminds him gently, smiling softly, “if you want it, it’s yours. If you want /him/, he’s yours.”
Chuuya looks at
The cat, after looking around cautiously, hops up onto the bed.
“I told you earlier, Chuuya,” Dazai reminds him gently, smiling softly, “if you want it, it’s yours. If you want /him/, he’s yours.”
Chuuya looks at
him like he’s lost his /mind/. “You can’t just give me a /cat/, Dazai, what the hell is wrong with you? What if he has /fleas/?”
Even the cat looks offended at that one.
Dazai scratches the back of his head awkwardly, feeling /so/ out of place. “So... you don’t want him?”
Even the cat looks offended at that one.
Dazai scratches the back of his head awkwardly, feeling /so/ out of place. “So... you don’t want him?”
“No, I—,” Chuuya lets out a strangled noise at that one, half sob and half angry scream, “You’re /shit/ at this. You’re not supposed to just /stare/ at me! You’re supposed to /hold/ me! Compliment me! Make me feel better. Not give me a /cat/!”
“Oh,” Dazai says, blinking. Now
“Oh,” Dazai says, blinking. Now
that he has /instruction/, the task of comforting him feels /much/ less daunting. “Right. Okay.”
He crosses back over to the bed, dropping down beside him and dragging Chuuya into his arms. Chuuya goes willingly, burying his face into his shoulder with a hiccup.
He arranges
He crosses back over to the bed, dropping down beside him and dragging Chuuya into his arms. Chuuya goes willingly, burying his face into his shoulder with a hiccup.
He arranges
him with his legs crossed underneath them, making a seat for Chuuya. His legs are slung on either side of his hips, tucked underneath himself.
Chuuya clings to him this time as the sobs die down but the tears start up again. He’s at /least/ less hysterical, but he’s still
Chuuya clings to him this time as the sobs die down but the tears start up again. He’s at /least/ less hysterical, but he’s still
/affected/.
“Baby,” Dazai starts, cupping his face and tilting it back and upwards so he can see. Even with his face red and splotchy, he’s still one of the most beautiful people Dazai has ever seen.
His thumbs brush his cheeks, wiping away tears. “You’re /not/ going to be a
“Baby,” Dazai starts, cupping his face and tilting it back and upwards so he can see. Even with his face red and splotchy, he’s still one of the most beautiful people Dazai has ever seen.
His thumbs brush his cheeks, wiping away tears. “You’re /not/ going to be a
failure.”
Chuuya sniffs miserably up at him, but at least he’s listening.
“You are /so/ smart,” Dazai tells him, leaning down to seal the words with a adoring kiss on his cheek. “And hard-working.” Another kiss.
“Kind.” Another.
“And /beautiful.” Another.
“You’ve worked
Chuuya sniffs miserably up at him, but at least he’s listening.
“You are /so/ smart,” Dazai tells him, leaning down to seal the words with a adoring kiss on his cheek. “And hard-working.” Another kiss.
“Kind.” Another.
“And /beautiful.” Another.
“You’ve worked
/so/ hard to get where you are, and I know it’s... frustrating and upsetting to think that it’s all been taken away from you— but it hasn’t. You can go back next semester, and try again. You’re top /ten/ in your year at Keio— anyone would be lucky to have you.”
Chuuya shivers,
Chuuya shivers,
swallowing hard. The tears are slowing now, but maybe that’s just because Dazai is kissing them away as soon as they come.
“And next semester will be /easy/ for you, sweetheart. You’ll already know what to expect, /and/ you’ll be ahead of all the kids in the class because you
“And next semester will be /easy/ for you, sweetheart. You’ll already know what to expect, /and/ you’ll be ahead of all the kids in the class because you
already took half of it. You’ll /ace/ it. And— you’ll have /me/.”
That makes Chuuya’s eyes widen briefly, hands tightening on his shoulders. When he speaks, it’s something between hopeful and confused. “What do you mean?”
“Let me help you, Chuuya,” Dazai murmurs, pressing a
That makes Chuuya’s eyes widen briefly, hands tightening on his shoulders. When he speaks, it’s something between hopeful and confused. “What do you mean?”
“Let me help you, Chuuya,” Dazai murmurs, pressing a
smile to his cheek. "Let me take /care/ of you. You can stay here as long as you want, as long as you need. I'll take care of you /so/ good, baby, you'll never need to worry about anything other than acing your classes."
Is it wrong to /tempt/ him like this when he's coming down
Is it wrong to /tempt/ him like this when he's coming down
from an emotional episode like this? Probably.
But Dazai has never fought /fair/, and if he can tempt Chuuya into staying with /him/ instead of going home to recover, then he'll whisper whatever sweet--and dirty-- promises into his ear that he needs to.
Chuuya presses up into
But Dazai has never fought /fair/, and if he can tempt Chuuya into staying with /him/ instead of going home to recover, then he'll whisper whatever sweet--and dirty-- promises into his ear that he needs to.
Chuuya presses up into
the comfort willingly, his arms slinging around Dazai's neck and pulling him in close. His breath in slowing into a more stable rhythm now, and the tears have almost completely stopped.
Seems he's coming out of it, now that Dazai has figured out how to /help/.
"Do you really
Seems he's coming out of it, now that Dazai has figured out how to /help/.
"Do you really
mean that?" He mutters, voice wobbly. "I don't wanna be-- like a /burden/ or anything, and I know we haven't been dating for long, and it was unexpected so--"
Dazai shushes him again, sliding his hands back into his hair. It's messy again, but not too tangled. "Of course I mean
Dazai shushes him again, sliding his hands back into his hair. It's messy again, but not too tangled. "Of course I mean
it," he says, trailing his lips down until they find the corner of his mouth and pressing a kiss there. "You're not a burden, Chuuya. Not at all, not /ever/."
That seems to get through to him, because in the next moment he's letting out a shuddering sigh and turning his head to
That seems to get through to him, because in the next moment he's letting out a shuddering sigh and turning his head to
catch him in a kiss.
It’s achingly slow and soft. No sense of urgency behind it, just the reassurance of /comfort/ and affection. Every slide of their lips together is a reiteration of how far they’ve come, how much they mean to eachother.
Eventually Chuuya pulls back again,
It’s achingly slow and soft. No sense of urgency behind it, just the reassurance of /comfort/ and affection. Every slide of their lips together is a reiteration of how far they’ve come, how much they mean to eachother.
Eventually Chuuya pulls back again,
breaking the kiss. His hands slide away from Dazai’s shoulders, finding the tearstains on his cheeks and trying to rub them away.
“Okay,” he says, clearing his throat and trying to sound /upbeat/, “alright, I’m good now. Everything just...became too much for a second.”
Dazai
“Okay,” he says, clearing his throat and trying to sound /upbeat/, “alright, I’m good now. Everything just...became too much for a second.”
Dazai
can understand that, using his fingertips to tuck Chuuya’s bangs behind his ear. “I know you’ve been stressed and that’s perfectly reasonable,” he says gently, “Do you feel better now though?”
“Yeah,” he answers, sounding a /little/ surprised, but also worn out. Emotionally and
“Yeah,” he answers, sounding a /little/ surprised, but also worn out. Emotionally and
physically.
Understandable. It’s been a very emotional day for him, considering everything, and physically his body is still recuperating. It doesn’t take much to wear him out.
An indignant meow interrupts them, followed by an insistent headbutt to Chuuya’s elbow from the cat.
Understandable. It’s been a very emotional day for him, considering everything, and physically his body is still recuperating. It doesn’t take much to wear him out.
An indignant meow interrupts them, followed by an insistent headbutt to Chuuya’s elbow from the cat.
The action draws out a tired laugh from Chuuya and a few sniffles. “Sorry, kitty,” he mutters, reaching out to scratch him under the chin to greet him.
The purrs start up nearly immediately, loud and pleased. The cat leans into it wholeheartedly, stepping up on Chuuya’s thigh
The purrs start up nearly immediately, loud and pleased. The cat leans into it wholeheartedly, stepping up on Chuuya’s thigh
with its front paws to get closer.
“Can I still keep him though?” Chuuya asks, not looking at Dazai directly. “I know I said—.”
Dazai interrupts him, not needing an explanation. “Yes, you can have him. Though you’ll need to give him a /bath/.”
The cat isn’t excessively
“Can I still keep him though?” Chuuya asks, not looking at Dazai directly. “I know I said—.”
Dazai interrupts him, not needing an explanation. “Yes, you can have him. Though you’ll need to give him a /bath/.”
The cat isn’t excessively
dirty, but he is dusty and he’s been living on the streets for at least a couple years. He could use a bath, even if he doesn’t have fleas like Chuuya said.
The thanks he gets in return for that is an excited wiggle from Chuuya, leaning in to rest more fully against him.
The thanks he gets in return for that is an excited wiggle from Chuuya, leaning in to rest more fully against him.
After a long, peaceful moment of Chuuya pressed up against him and soaking up the warmth of affection while the cat paces shortly back and forth to get scratches all over the best parts of him, Chuuya speaks up again. “Sorry I said you were shit at this. I didn’t mean it.”
That
That
pulls a lopsided smile from Dazai. “No, you were right. I was pretty shit at it,” he huffs,amused.
Reaching down, he offers his fingers to the cat to rub up against, and is promptly ignored. Obviously he has a /favorite/.
“Yeah, you were,” Chuuya says, then bursts into giggles.
Reaching down, he offers his fingers to the cat to rub up against, and is promptly ignored. Obviously he has a /favorite/.
“Yeah, you were,” Chuuya says, then bursts into giggles.
Dazai lets him laugh at him for a while, warmth bubbling up inside his chest. At least he’s feeling better, enough to snicker at him for a few minutes.
Eventually Kozo comes to interrupt, propping his chin up on the bed so he can sniff at the cat. When he looks at Dazai, he lets
Eventually Kozo comes to interrupt, propping his chin up on the bed so he can sniff at the cat. When he looks at Dazai, he lets
out a few whines to remind him that it’s /past/ dinner time now.
Like Kozo would ever let him forget. The dog is an eating /machine/, and Dazai’s convinced his only goal in life is to get fat.
Squeezing Chuuya, he says, “I gotta go downstairs and feed the pets and make you
Like Kozo would ever let him forget. The dog is an eating /machine/, and Dazai’s convinced his only goal in life is to get fat.
Squeezing Chuuya, he says, “I gotta go downstairs and feed the pets and make you
something to eat. Do you wanna come with, or you wanna stay up here?”
Chuuya snuggles closer, slinging the hand that was petting the cat back over Dazai’s shoulder. “Take me with,” he mumbles, letting out a surprised yelp when Dazai hefts him up higher in his arms.
The stairs
Chuuya snuggles closer, slinging the hand that was petting the cat back over Dazai’s shoulder. “Take me with,” he mumbles, letting out a surprised yelp when Dazai hefts him up higher in his arms.
The stairs
are tricky to navigate when there’s a cat determined to get under Dazai’s feet and yowling up at him like he’s personally offended /he’s/ not being carried down the stairs.
They have yet to get an actual food bowl for the cat, so he has to make do with a repurposed Tupperware
They have yet to get an actual food bowl for the cat, so he has to make do with a repurposed Tupperware
placed in the middle of the dining table to keep the dogs from getting to it.
Chuuya perches beside him on the table, one leg swinging beneath the table as he scrolls on his phone and occasionally reaches over to stroke the cat on the back until another ferocious set of purrs
Chuuya perches beside him on the table, one leg swinging beneath the table as he scrolls on his phone and occasionally reaches over to stroke the cat on the back until another ferocious set of purrs
starts up.
Making dinner is peaceful, /homey/. Chuuya is his dedicated taste taster, taking every bite Dazai offers him and making approving noises. They make small talk, carefully avoiding the subject of Chuuya’s prescribed bed rest—
But it’s not /awkward/.
After a while,
Making dinner is peaceful, /homey/. Chuuya is his dedicated taste taster, taking every bite Dazai offers him and making approving noises. They make small talk, carefully avoiding the subject of Chuuya’s prescribed bed rest—
But it’s not /awkward/.
After a while,
the dogs come back inside. Chuuya spends half his time teasing Yoko by wiggling his fingers just out of reach of her nose, and the other half brushing his toes over Kozo’s belly, who has rolled onto his back beneath him.
The cat takes one look at them and turns his back on them,
The cat takes one look at them and turns his back on them,
stretching out on his side along the table.
It feels like /family/. Like love and /home/ and care.
Dazai hasn’t had a family in a long time. Not one that he /felt/ was his family, at least, not one that ever made him feel like /this/.
He doesn’t know what to do with the
It feels like /family/. Like love and /home/ and care.
Dazai hasn’t had a family in a long time. Not one that he /felt/ was his family, at least, not one that ever made him feel like /this/.
He doesn’t know what to do with the
building emotion in his chest, so thick and warm he’s half-convinced he’ll get a sunburn just from the brightness of Chuuya’s presence.
He can’t stop touching him, feeding him little test bites and kissing away the extra sauce left on the corner of his lip. Keeping a hand on
He can’t stop touching him, feeding him little test bites and kissing away the extra sauce left on the corner of his lip. Keeping a hand on
his thigh as they eat, thumb rubbing over his inner thigh and defending his bowl from a /very/ interested cat with his other hand.
Carrying him back up the stairs as Chuuya starts to crash with exhaustion again, curling up in bed with him even though Dazai himself isn’t tired.
Carrying him back up the stairs as Chuuya starts to crash with exhaustion again, curling up in bed with him even though Dazai himself isn’t tired.
His entire world, held in the spaces between Chuuya’s breath. The spinning of the universe spurred on by the steady beats of his heart, a precious rhythm Dazai doesn’t know how he ever lived without.
When Dazai eventually does fall asleep, hours later, he wakes up in the middle
When Dazai eventually does fall asleep, hours later, he wakes up in the middle
of the night to find that the cat had wiggled his way between then at some point, pushing his butt into Dazai’s face as he curls over Chuuya’s head.
Dazai debates kicking him out, because he’s taking up /his/ cuddle time—
But Chuuya looks blissfully and peacefully asleep, a
Dazai debates kicking him out, because he’s taking up /his/ cuddle time—
But Chuuya looks blissfully and peacefully asleep, a
tiny smile on his face, so—
Dazai huffs into the cats fur and endures.
Sunday is the calm before the storm. The day dawns clear and warm, rays of sunshine collecting underneath the curtains shielding the balcony.
Dazai is up much earlier before Chuuya is, but he luxuriates
Dazai huffs into the cats fur and endures.
Sunday is the calm before the storm. The day dawns clear and warm, rays of sunshine collecting underneath the curtains shielding the balcony.
Dazai is up much earlier before Chuuya is, but he luxuriates
in the warmth and comfort of bed until Chuuya starts to stir.
Then it’s time to make breakfast and give Chuuya his first round of medications. The combination of food and medicine makes him drowsy again, so he spends another few hours caught between dozing in bed and lazily
Then it’s time to make breakfast and give Chuuya his first round of medications. The combination of food and medicine makes him drowsy again, so he spends another few hours caught between dozing in bed and lazily
scrolling on his phone.
(Dazai spends that time starting the information hunt about this ‘DOA’ drug, because there’s something /very/ fishy about it.
The Port Mafia has never been huge on drugs. They have a stranglehold on that business and they /do/ deal with drugs, but their
(Dazai spends that time starting the information hunt about this ‘DOA’ drug, because there’s something /very/ fishy about it.
The Port Mafia has never been huge on drugs. They have a stranglehold on that business and they /do/ deal with drugs, but their
main source of revenue is international trade and security.
The college campus is firmly on Mafia territory, and Dazai does /not/ see a logical reason as to why the Mafia would be pushing a drug that causes such obvious and negative side effects.
It’s like they’re /asking/ for
The college campus is firmly on Mafia territory, and Dazai does /not/ see a logical reason as to why the Mafia would be pushing a drug that causes such obvious and negative side effects.
It’s like they’re /asking/ for
the government to get involved and start an investigation.
It’s like they’re asking for the tentative willful ignorance between the underground and the upper echelons of the /law/ to come to an end.
It’s like they’re asking to be taken /down/ and dismantled.)
When Chuuya
It’s like they’re asking for the tentative willful ignorance between the underground and the upper echelons of the /law/ to come to an end.
It’s like they’re asking to be taken /down/ and dismantled.)
When Chuuya
finally does get out of bed, it’s early afternoon. Dazai wants to check on him, but he’s in the middle of a call.
Once he hears the water start up in the bathroom,and the sounds of the tub filling,he smiles.
When Dazai /does/ get free again,he goes to check on him only to find—
Once he hears the water start up in the bathroom,and the sounds of the tub filling,he smiles.
When Dazai /does/ get free again,he goes to check on him only to find—
Chuuya, luxuriating in the bath with his hair tired on top of his head and the face mask Dazai bought yesterday layered over his skin and—
The /cat/, showing the signs of a recent washing, fur wet and spiky. Chuuya is repurposing one of the tubs Dazai usually stores towels in,
The /cat/, showing the signs of a recent washing, fur wet and spiky. Chuuya is repurposing one of the tubs Dazai usually stores towels in,
turning it into a makeshift boat for the cat to lay in and float in the bath with him.
For a cat that /should/ hate water, the damn thing looks /blissfully/ content as he crouches in the plastic boat and floats.
Dazai can’t keep the smile out of his voice. “What are you doing?”
For a cat that /should/ hate water, the damn thing looks /blissfully/ content as he crouches in the plastic boat and floats.
Dazai can’t keep the smile out of his voice. “What are you doing?”
Chuuya doesn’t even open his eyes or tilt his head to the side as he answers, “Taking a bath.”
“With the cat?”
A twitch of his lips, a smile quickly smothered but Dazai sees it. “You said he needed one. Besides,” Chuuya reaches out with his toes, gently pushing the boat so it
“With the cat?”
A twitch of his lips, a smile quickly smothered but Dazai sees it. “You said he needed one. Besides,” Chuuya reaches out with his toes, gently pushing the boat so it
goes cruising down to the edge of the tub, bounces off the wall gently and slowly starts to make its way back, “he likes it.”
Dazai’s pretty sure it’s not the /bath/ he likes, but the sheer fact of being close to Chuuya. The cat is in love with his tiny redhead.
Dazai crosses
Dazai’s pretty sure it’s not the /bath/ he likes, but the sheer fact of being close to Chuuya. The cat is in love with his tiny redhead.
Dazai crosses
over, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub and leaning over him. He stares down at him, and when he speaks, his voice is as thick with affection as the air is with steam. “You’re ridiculous.”
Blue eyes crack open, amusement shining from them like stars. “I’m /practical/,”
Blue eyes crack open, amusement shining from them like stars. “I’m /practical/,”
he corrects, a grin going on his face.
Dipping his hand into the wall of bubbles stacked near the edges of the tub, Dazai puts a blob on the end of Chuuya’s nose and chuckles when he goes cross-eyed trying to look at it.
“Do you want me to wash your hair?” He asks, knowing
Dipping his hand into the wall of bubbles stacked near the edges of the tub, Dazai puts a blob on the end of Chuuya’s nose and chuckles when he goes cross-eyed trying to look at it.
“Do you want me to wash your hair?” He asks, knowing
that he probably /does/ want to wash all the hospital grime out of it, but isn't feeling up for the task.
Chuuya sighs, stretching out further in the tub. His feet don't come close to touching the edge. "Yes, please," he mumbles.
It's the only time he's given permission for
Chuuya sighs, stretching out further in the tub. His feet don't come close to touching the edge. "Yes, please," he mumbles.
It's the only time he's given permission for
him to wash his hair-- he's /overprotective/ and picky with his hair-- and Dazai makes sure to do it with the care it deserves.
Cupping his hand underneath the back of his head and holding him as he gets his hair wet. Carefully lathering shampoo into the roots of his hair,
Cupping his hand underneath the back of his head and holding him as he gets his hair wet. Carefully lathering shampoo into the roots of his hair,
focusing on the spots near his temples when it makes Chuuya sigh pleasantly. Rinsing his hair out again, then working conditioner through all the way to the ends. Taking a comb and carefully untangling every knot until it's smooth.
Chuuya relaxes into his care, letting him
Chuuya relaxes into his care, letting him
manipulate his head and move his body any way he needs to.
It's peaceful, like time is frozen outside of this room.
(It will not last.)
------ +
In Chuuya's humble opinion, the ordeal of medically withdrawing from college is a /hassle/. Not only does he have to seek approval
It's peaceful, like time is frozen outside of this room.
(It will not last.)
------ +
In Chuuya's humble opinion, the ordeal of medically withdrawing from college is a /hassle/. Not only does he have to seek approval
from /all/ of his course instructors-- which seems unnecessary and like a /very/ easy way to have the entire process drawn out for an obscenely long time-- and then he has to take all that approval into the administration to get /that/ approved. Then he has to sign a whole bunch
of papers agreeing that him withdrawing means that all his courses for the semester are /incomplete/, he has to return all the funds given to him by his scholarships and financial aid, he has to vacate the dorm, and so on and so forth until Chuuya just feels /numb/.
He didn't
He didn't
choose this. He didn't /want/ this.
And even though he has a /stack/ of doctors notes saying that he /can't/ be in class without negative repercussions, it feels like he's being /punished/.
He doesn't even get Dazai's support in the office, because Chuuya wanted to do this
And even though he has a /stack/ of doctors notes saying that he /can't/ be in class without negative repercussions, it feels like he's being /punished/.
He doesn't even get Dazai's support in the office, because Chuuya wanted to do this
/alone/. Dazai looked apprehensive, but he couldn't exactly /argue/, and when Chuuya pointed out that it was probably best if he got a head start on packing up his dorm--
He agreed. That's where he is now, picking up all the things Chuuya owns and packing them away for moving.
He agreed. That's where he is now, picking up all the things Chuuya owns and packing them away for moving.
(It takes Dazai a few minutes to find where Chuuya's dorm is. He gave him directions, but without any idea as to where to /go/, it takes the help of the directional signs for him to find it.
Using the key Chuuya gave him, he steps inside.
Nikolai is there when he enters, and he
Using the key Chuuya gave him, he steps inside.
Nikolai is there when he enters, and he
looks /terrified/ when he looks up and sees him standing in the doorway, freezing in place.
Chuuya must not have told him that Dazai was going to help move his dorm out. He can imagine that being /awkward/, considering that Nikolai has been friends with Shuuji for a while.
Chuuya must not have told him that Dazai was going to help move his dorm out. He can imagine that being /awkward/, considering that Nikolai has been friends with Shuuji for a while.
Unfortunately that means that /Dazai/ has to deal with the awkwardness himself.
Nikolai’s a nice kid— Dazai has done /several/ background checks on him and found nothing out of the ordinary, besides a father that died of alcoholism and a brother that followed soon after— so he
Nikolai’s a nice kid— Dazai has done /several/ background checks on him and found nothing out of the ordinary, besides a father that died of alcoholism and a brother that followed soon after— so he
forces a friendly smile.
“I’m here to help Chuuya move all his stuff,” he says, rocking back on his heels a little. “I’m assuming that’s his side of the room.”
He tilts his head to the other side of the room that Nikolai isn’t sitting on, and gets a wide-eyed nod in response.
“I’m here to help Chuuya move all his stuff,” he says, rocking back on his heels a little. “I’m assuming that’s his side of the room.”
He tilts his head to the other side of the room that Nikolai isn’t sitting on, and gets a wide-eyed nod in response.
Great.
It doesn’t look like Chuuya /owns/ a lot of things, because his side of the room is mostly bare. A blessing, because Dazai only has so much room in his car. He doesn’t mind extra trips, but he wants to get this over as soon as possible because he knows it’s going to
It doesn’t look like Chuuya /owns/ a lot of things, because his side of the room is mostly bare. A blessing, because Dazai only has so much room in his car. He doesn’t mind extra trips, but he wants to get this over as soon as possible because he knows it’s going to
upset Chuuya the longer they’re on the campus.
It’s also kind of /sad/, because he’s come to realize that Chuuya is a /nester/ and even though he’s only been staying with Dazai the past two weeks, the bedside table on his side of the bed has already started to fill up with all
It’s also kind of /sad/, because he’s come to realize that Chuuya is a /nester/ and even though he’s only been staying with Dazai the past two weeks, the bedside table on his side of the bed has already started to fill up with all
the knickknacks and little charms Dazai buys him whenever they go out.
So to see a place for Chuuya that is so /empty/, when he obviously prefers it not to be if he has the option—
Sad. Very sad.
Something occurs to him as he’s carefully folding all of Chuuya’s clothes and
So to see a place for Chuuya that is so /empty/, when he obviously prefers it not to be if he has the option—
Sad. Very sad.
Something occurs to him as he’s carefully folding all of Chuuya’s clothes and
packing them away into a box:
The calls Dazai had made about the DOA drug had turned up little to no information. Chuuya said he didn’t know anything about it when he asked.
But Nikolai has been on campus more consistently than Chuuya has in the past few weeks, so it’s possible
The calls Dazai had made about the DOA drug had turned up little to no information. Chuuya said he didn’t know anything about it when he asked.
But Nikolai has been on campus more consistently than Chuuya has in the past few weeks, so it’s possible
that he knows more.
Looking at Nikolai over his shoulder, he says, “Hey, I wanted to ask—I’ve been hearing all sorts of things about this new drug going around? Think it’s called DOA.Know anything about it?”
Nikolai pales.)
When Chuuya /finally/ gets out of the administration
Looking at Nikolai over his shoulder, he says, “Hey, I wanted to ask—I’ve been hearing all sorts of things about this new drug going around? Think it’s called DOA.Know anything about it?”
Nikolai pales.)
When Chuuya /finally/ gets out of the administration
building, he feels limp and irritable with exhaustion. When Gide told him that he'd be on bed rest, he didn't know it meant he'd be tired out by even the most mundane things.
He's been sleeping so /much/ lately, almost the entire morning yesterday and even part of the evening,
He's been sleeping so /much/ lately, almost the entire morning yesterday and even part of the evening,
so it feels like a crime that he's already dreaming of going back to bed.
He's hungry too, even though he had breakfast only a couple hours ago.
There's a small cafe between the offices and the dorms, and he makes his way there slowly. The sun pours down on him, warm and
He's hungry too, even though he had breakfast only a couple hours ago.
There's a small cafe between the offices and the dorms, and he makes his way there slowly. The sun pours down on him, warm and
energizing. It's Monday morning, and the campus is as crowded as it usually is. All the students that have class or work today are drawn in by the wafting smell of coffee.
Chuuya joins the crowd, choosing to sit at one of the available outside benches. He needs a cup of coffee
Chuuya joins the crowd, choosing to sit at one of the available outside benches. He needs a cup of coffee
to wake himself up, but he doesn't have any money himself. Using the allowance his father gives him feels /wrong/ now,because he's not in /college/ anymore.
He's not too worried, he'll just text Dazai and ask him to come over and pay--
Someone slides into the seat opposite him.
He's not too worried, he'll just text Dazai and ask him to come over and pay--
Someone slides into the seat opposite him.
Chuuya looks up, curious, automatically painting a smile on his face because he's assuming it's one of his friends wondering why he's not in class anymore, already preparing his story in response--
It's not one of friends. In fact, it's not anyone he recognizes at all.
A man,
It's not one of friends. In fact, it's not anyone he recognizes at all.
A man,
dark-haired and with a pair of dark violet eyes that seem to /glow/ against the backdrop of the sun. His smile is friendly, the flash of sharp teeth behind it subtle.
He's dressed impeccably well, with a dark purple shirt that matches his eyes. Over it, he has a dark jacket that
He's dressed impeccably well, with a dark purple shirt that matches his eyes. Over it, he has a dark jacket that
/oozes/ luxury, with threads that practically /shine/ silver.
His hair is up in a messy bun on top of his head, secured with what looks like a short piece of red rope.
Interesting.
Chuuya tilts his head, lowering his phone before he can text Dazai. "Can I help you?"
The man
His hair is up in a messy bun on top of his head, secured with what looks like a short piece of red rope.
Interesting.
Chuuya tilts his head, lowering his phone before he can text Dazai. "Can I help you?"
The man
smiles at him. "I think you can."
The way he's /looking/ at him makes him think that he means more than just what he's saying,eyes locked on target like a predator about to /pounce/.
It makes the hair on the back of Chuuya's neck stand up. He shifts,fighting the urge to /run/.
The way he's /looking/ at him makes him think that he means more than just what he's saying,eyes locked on target like a predator about to /pounce/.
It makes the hair on the back of Chuuya's neck stand up. He shifts,fighting the urge to /run/.
Then the man flips over the menu the cafe leaves chained to the outside tables, opening it. "I haven't come here before;can you tell me what you would recommend to order? I'm /very/ picky with my food, but you look like you have good taste."
Oh. Well, Chuuya can understand that.
Oh. Well, Chuuya can understand that.
He wouldn't want to order something gross either.
"Well, personally, I really like their Americano's and the spinach wrap, but if you like a sweeter coffee, then I suggest a caramel latte. They make theirs with a few pumps of vanilla too, and it's really good."
The smile grows.
"Well, personally, I really like their Americano's and the spinach wrap, but if you like a sweeter coffee, then I suggest a caramel latte. They make theirs with a few pumps of vanilla too, and it's really good."
The smile grows.
"Lovely, solnyshko" the man says. The foreign word makes Chuuya blink in surprise. It sounds /vaguely/ familiar,like a language he's heard before but doesn't understand.
The waving down one of the waitresses who works here. She's a student, someone that Chuuya vaguely recognizes
The waving down one of the waitresses who works here. She's a student, someone that Chuuya vaguely recognizes
from some of his classes. She looks /engrossed/ by the man, smiling eagerly at him.
"Can I get a caramel latte, an americano and a spinach wrap, please?" The man asks, lacing his fingers together and staring up at the waitress unwaveringly. There's a tattoo around his wrist that
"Can I get a caramel latte, an americano and a spinach wrap, please?" The man asks, lacing his fingers together and staring up at the waitress unwaveringly. There's a tattoo around his wrist that
gets exposed when his sleeve slides up.
It almost looks like a /noose/ wrapped around his wrist, the knot inked into the fragile skin of his inner wrist. It descends further down his arm where the sleeve covers up, blocking him from seeing the entirety of it.
The waitress nods,
It almost looks like a /noose/ wrapped around his wrist, the knot inked into the fragile skin of his inner wrist. It descends further down his arm where the sleeve covers up, blocking him from seeing the entirety of it.
The waitress nods,
scribbling down his order before walking away.
"You must need coffee pretty badly if you're ordering two at a time, and at a place you've never been to, uh--," Chuuya jokes, before realizing that he doesn't actually know this person's name.
The man seems to pick up on that,
"You must need coffee pretty badly if you're ordering two at a time, and at a place you've never been to, uh--," Chuuya jokes, before realizing that he doesn't actually know this person's name.
The man seems to pick up on that,
offering him another smile. He wets his lips by licking them, tongue sliding deliciously slow over his bottom lip and--
Is that /two/ tongue piercings, one on each side? Chuuya's never seen /that/ before.
"You can call me Fyodor, solnyshko," he offers. "And the Americano is for
Is that /two/ tongue piercings, one on each side? Chuuya's never seen /that/ before.
"You can call me Fyodor, solnyshko," he offers. "And the Americano is for
you. It would be rude not to offer you something in payment after you've been so /kind/ to me, no?"
He doesn't think that offering his advice on food is worth buying him something to eat, but it's not like he's going to turn down free food. Besides, this way he won't have to
He doesn't think that offering his advice on food is worth buying him something to eat, but it's not like he's going to turn down free food. Besides, this way he won't have to
bother Dazai for a while longer. Or go back to his dorm before he's ready to see the thing he's worked so hard for be taken away.
He can eat, have a quick snack with /Fyodor/ before making his way up to his dorm.
"Thank you," he says, giving him a grateful smile. "So if you've
He can eat, have a quick snack with /Fyodor/ before making his way up to his dorm.
"Thank you," he says, giving him a grateful smile. "So if you've
never been to this cafe before, then you must not go here. What brings you to the campus?"
The cafe, nameless as it is, is the most popular one on the campus. Every student, teacher and even office administrators drops by here at least sometimes. If Fyodor were here on business,
The cafe, nameless as it is, is the most popular one on the campus. Every student, teacher and even office administrators drops by here at least sometimes. If Fyodor were here on business,
then he would know that, right? The cafe is practically a campus staple so--
He must be here on /personal/ business.
"Oh, I'm just visiting an old friend," Fyodor sighs, leaning back in his seat. He's /tall/, almost as tall as Dazai is, and just as broad. He takes up the entire
He must be here on /personal/ business.
"Oh, I'm just visiting an old friend," Fyodor sighs, leaning back in his seat. He's /tall/, almost as tall as Dazai is, and just as broad. He takes up the entire
seat, legs crowding Chuuya's under the table even though his knees are spread wide in a casual display and dominance.
And Chuuya will be honest--
If he wasn't /with/ Dazai, infatuated and very much happy with him, he would be eyeing up Fyodor. With that posture, it's like he's
And Chuuya will be honest--
If he wasn't /with/ Dazai, infatuated and very much happy with him, he would be eyeing up Fyodor. With that posture, it's like he's
/asking/ him to stare at the bulge of his crotch.
Chuuya won't, but if he /could/, he might've.
"You see, he's stopped answering my calls recently. Very disheartening, because we are business partners-- but I also thought we were /friends/. So I've come to see why he won't talk
Chuuya won't, but if he /could/, he might've.
"You see, he's stopped answering my calls recently. Very disheartening, because we are business partners-- but I also thought we were /friends/. So I've come to see why he won't talk
to me anymore," Fyodor continues, and he almost sounds like he's /pouting/.
The waitress comes back then, placing his order in front of him. It isn't Chuuya's imagination acting up when he sees the way Fyodor deliberately brushes his fingers over the back of her hand as he
The waitress comes back then, placing his order in front of him. It isn't Chuuya's imagination acting up when he sees the way Fyodor deliberately brushes his fingers over the back of her hand as he
accepts his drink.
"Thank you," Fyodor says to her warmly, taking a sip. He sighs into his drink when he tastes it, smiling flirtatiously over the rim at the waitress. "Simply /divine/."
Chuuya's Americano nearly gets spilled with how hard her hands are trembling, and he
"Thank you," Fyodor says to her warmly, taking a sip. He sighs into his drink when he tastes it, smiling flirtatiously over the rim at the waitress. "Simply /divine/."
Chuuya's Americano nearly gets spilled with how hard her hands are trembling, and he
narrowly avoids getting his spinach wrap dumped onto his lap.
Chuuya can't exactly be /mad/ at her, because Fyodor is /staring her down/,with a smug,satisfied look on his face like he knows /exactly/ what he's doing to her.
Eventually she goes scampering back into the building,
Chuuya can't exactly be /mad/ at her, because Fyodor is /staring her down/,with a smug,satisfied look on his face like he knows /exactly/ what he's doing to her.
Eventually she goes scampering back into the building,
face bright red.
"That sounds terrible. I'd be upset if one of my friends stopped talking to me too," Chuuya says, sympathetic. His spinach wrap, when he takes a bite out of it, is delightfully fresh. "Do you think he'll show up here, or are you buying time until you can find
"That sounds terrible. I'd be upset if one of my friends stopped talking to me too," Chuuya says, sympathetic. His spinach wrap, when he takes a bite out of it, is delightfully fresh. "Do you think he'll show up here, or are you buying time until you can find
him?"
Chuuya might think he's procrastinating, but somehow, he doesn't seem the type.
"Oh, I'm sure he'll show up at some point. I've got something he /wants/."
That sounds... slightly ominous, especially with the way Fyodors's grinning hugely at him. Like he has a /secret/.
Chuuya might think he's procrastinating, but somehow, he doesn't seem the type.
"Oh, I'm sure he'll show up at some point. I've got something he /wants/."
That sounds... slightly ominous, especially with the way Fyodors's grinning hugely at him. Like he has a /secret/.
Chuuya takes a bite out of his food to give himself some time to mull that over. It's normal for friends to exchange things like clothing or house items, stuff like that.
But Fyodor is speaking like he means something /important/.
"In the meantime, solnyshko, would you like to
But Fyodor is speaking like he means something /important/.
"In the meantime, solnyshko, would you like to
hear a story?" Fyodor asks, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. His latte is almost entirely gone already, the remains of caramel on the edges of his cup.
Taking a sip of his own Americano--it's stronger than usual, the bitterness more overpowering-- Chuuya shrugs.
Taking a sip of his own Americano--it's stronger than usual, the bitterness more overpowering-- Chuuya shrugs.
Sure, why not? He likes stories as well as anything else, and he's not quite ready to go back to his dorm yet.
He's pretty sure Dazai won't let him lift a finger to help pack anyways, so there's really no point in going back early just to stand there and watch as his entire
He's pretty sure Dazai won't let him lift a finger to help pack anyways, so there's really no point in going back early just to stand there and watch as his entire
college career is packed away into a handful of depressingly small boxes.
He came here with only one box. He's probably only leaving with /two/.
"Sure. What's it about?"
Fyodor leans his cheek in his palm, eyes looking very far away. "Have you heard of the campus fire that
He came here with only one box. He's probably only leaving with /two/.
"Sure. What's it about?"
Fyodor leans his cheek in his palm, eyes looking very far away. "Have you heard of the campus fire that
happened a little over eighteen years ago?"
Chuuya tilts his head frowning. "The one the memorial was made for? I thought that was twenty years ago?"
Devil-sharp teeth flash at him in amusement. "Nope. It was eighteen-- though closer to nineteen years now."
"Wasn't that just
Chuuya tilts his head frowning. "The one the memorial was made for? I thought that was twenty years ago?"
Devil-sharp teeth flash at him in amusement. "Nope. It was eighteen-- though closer to nineteen years now."
"Wasn't that just
a small fire that got out of hand?"
That's what the stories online had said, at least. They'd traced it back to a couple of kids who'd been smoking illegally in their dorm, and when carpet started to smolder because of a cherry that had fallen, it went unnoticed.
By the time
That's what the stories online had said, at least. They'd traced it back to a couple of kids who'd been smoking illegally in their dorm, and when carpet started to smolder because of a cherry that had fallen, it went unnoticed.
By the time
the kids had noticed it and were ready to out themselves by reporting it,it was already too late.
The entire floor and the two below it had been ravaged by flames.
"Well, what if I told you that it was /meant/ to get out of hand?"
Chuuya arches an eyebrow at him, disbelieving
The entire floor and the two below it had been ravaged by flames.
"Well, what if I told you that it was /meant/ to get out of hand?"
Chuuya arches an eyebrow at him, disbelieving
but amused. What's with everyone trying to turn regular, every day tragedies into this /horror/ story? It's already terrifying and upsetting enough, there's no need to spin it into something else entire.
First Yuan,and then Nikolai. Now /Fyodor/.
"What do you mean?"
Fyodor's
First Yuan,and then Nikolai. Now /Fyodor/.
"What do you mean?"
Fyodor's
hand leaves the table, dipping into his pocket. He pulls out a short piece of rope that doesn't seem to serve any purpose other than keeping his hand busy as he speaks again. "Have you heard of the Port Mafia?"
Chuuya shoots him an unimpressed look, taking his last sip of his
Chuuya shoots him an unimpressed look, taking his last sip of his
coffee. It doesn't seem to have worked to wake him up.
In fact, he feels almost more tired than he did before drinking it, his eyes heavy and begging to close.
"Yeah, obviously. I do live here, after all," he confirms, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.
Fyodor tsks at him
In fact, he feels almost more tired than he did before drinking it, his eyes heavy and begging to close.
"Yeah, obviously. I do live here, after all," he confirms, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.
Fyodor tsks at him
in reprimand, threading the rope through his fingers over and over again, an unending pattern that Chuuya finds himself fascinated by. "No need to be /sassy/, solnyshko, I was just asking a question."
A question that had an obvious answer to whoever has been living in Yokohama
A question that had an obvious answer to whoever has been living in Yokohama
for any length of time--
But Chuuya supposes Fyodor doesn't actually know anything about him, so maybe his reaction was unnecessary.
He smiles at him apologetically. "Sorry. It's been a rough week for me. Yes, I do know about them."
This time, when he takes another bite of
But Chuuya supposes Fyodor doesn't actually know anything about him, so maybe his reaction was unnecessary.
He smiles at him apologetically. "Sorry. It's been a rough week for me. Yes, I do know about them."
This time, when he takes another bite of
his wrap, Fyodor's eyes watch his movements closely. When he notices that Chuuya has noticed,he smiles widely.
"Now you can't tell anyone this, because it's a /secret/, but the /real/ story is that the Mafia was involved with that fire," Fyodor says, leaning forward and lowering
"Now you can't tell anyone this, because it's a /secret/, but the /real/ story is that the Mafia was involved with that fire," Fyodor says, leaning forward and lowering
his voice like he's sharing a secret.
"If that was true, why wouldn't it be mentioned in the news stories or be otherwise connected to them? I looked up the news articles, and no mention of the Yakuza was made."
Granted, Chuuya only has access to /publicized/ news, which
"If that was true, why wouldn't it be mentioned in the news stories or be otherwise connected to them? I looked up the news articles, and no mention of the Yakuza was made."
Granted, Chuuya only has access to /publicized/ news, which
is obviously biased and scrubbed clean of too many details but--
If the government and news outlets had the /chance/ to garner public outcry from the citizens against the Yakuza, Chuuya doesn't see why they /wouldn't/.
"For the same reason a lot of crimes committed by the Mafia
If the government and news outlets had the /chance/ to garner public outcry from the citizens against the Yakuza, Chuuya doesn't see why they /wouldn't/.
"For the same reason a lot of crimes committed by the Mafia
get covered up, solnyshko-- money. Lots of it. /Someone/ doesn't want that story to be told."
That does make sense.
It's Monday on campus, barely mid-day with students coming and going all over the place--
But suddenly the air is starting to feel cold.
Chuuya's head hurts.
That does make sense.
It's Monday on campus, barely mid-day with students coming and going all over the place--
But suddenly the air is starting to feel cold.
Chuuya's head hurts.
It's not bad--yet-- but he's regretting not taking the Tylenol Dazai offered him earlier this morning. He'd insisted he wouldn't need it because they wouldn't be out /that/ long, but now he's regretting that.
"And what story would that be?" He asks, rubbing his temple to stave
"And what story would that be?" He asks, rubbing his temple to stave
off the growing migraine.
"The story of an adopted son, rebelling against his tyrant father," Fyodor says,with a wicked grin like it's a scary story or some sort of legend to be told over a campfire.
When he notices Chuuya's grimace, his expression fades into a concerned frown.
"The story of an adopted son, rebelling against his tyrant father," Fyodor says,with a wicked grin like it's a scary story or some sort of legend to be told over a campfire.
When he notices Chuuya's grimace, his expression fades into a concerned frown.
"What's wrong, little love? Did my story make you lose your appetite?"
The pet name, said in a voice like /that/, all smooth silk nd honey,makes a shiver crawl up Chuuya's spine, and he's /used/ to hearing things like that.
"No," he grumbles, blowing out a breath, "I just have
The pet name, said in a voice like /that/, all smooth silk nd honey,makes a shiver crawl up Chuuya's spine, and he's /used/ to hearing things like that.
"No," he grumbles, blowing out a breath, "I just have
a headache."
Fyodor makes a sympathetic noise. "Maybe eating more will help? Or I can get you some water? I have some pain pills in my car, but you'd have to come with me to get them."
Paranoia itches at the back of his mind.
"No, I'll just finish my wrap and text my
Fyodor makes a sympathetic noise. "Maybe eating more will help? Or I can get you some water? I have some pain pills in my car, but you'd have to come with me to get them."
Paranoia itches at the back of his mind.
"No, I'll just finish my wrap and text my
boyfriend," Chuuya mutters, taking out his phone and opening it. It only takes a few taps on the screen to pull up his messages with Dazai, shooting off a message asking him to come get him and his location.
The last few bites of his wrap taste... sour, almost. Like chemicals.
The last few bites of his wrap taste... sour, almost. Like chemicals.
But--
The ends of these things /always/ take a little funny, don't they?
"Oh, you have a boyfriend?" Fyodor latches onto that piece of information, leaning forward across the table. His hand slides close to the jacket Chuuya had taken off earlier, draped across the edge of the
The ends of these things /always/ take a little funny, don't they?
"Oh, you have a boyfriend?" Fyodor latches onto that piece of information, leaning forward across the table. His hand slides close to the jacket Chuuya had taken off earlier, draped across the edge of the
table.
His fingers dip inside the pocket without Chuuya noticing.
"What's he like?"
Chuuya opens his mouth to answer, but just as he does, a large, /broad/ shadow falls over them both. When he looks up, it's Dazai, looking angrier and paler than he's ever seen before.
His fingers dip inside the pocket without Chuuya noticing.
"What's he like?"
Chuuya opens his mouth to answer, but just as he does, a large, /broad/ shadow falls over them both. When he looks up, it's Dazai, looking angrier and paler than he's ever seen before.
"/Fedya/," he practically /snarls/, crossing his arms over his chest. He's vibrating with tension, eyebrows lowered thunderously over his eyebrows.
He doesn't even look at Chuuya, snapping something in a foreign, guttural language that's so /aggressive/ that it makes Chuuya
He doesn't even look at Chuuya, snapping something in a foreign, guttural language that's so /aggressive/ that it makes Chuuya
blink in surprise.
He sounds /angry/. Angrier than Chuuya's ever heard him.
Fyodor leans back in his chair, taking his hands back and folding them behind his head confidently. "Come now, /besy/," he says, flashing a charming smile, "Don't you know it's /rude/ to speak when the
He sounds /angry/. Angrier than Chuuya's ever heard him.
Fyodor leans back in his chair, taking his hands back and folding them behind his head confidently. "Come now, /besy/," he says, flashing a charming smile, "Don't you know it's /rude/ to speak when the
company can't understand you? You don't want to leave this pretty little thing in the /dark/, now do you?"
Chuuya has not been /unaware/ that Fyodor has been flirty with him. He didn't comment on it because he assumed that it was just in his nature-- the incident with the
Chuuya has not been /unaware/ that Fyodor has been flirty with him. He didn't comment on it because he assumed that it was just in his nature-- the incident with the
waitress was pretty damning-- but now he feels like he's being /fought/ over.
Dazai bristling with hostility, Fyodor smug and cocky leaning back in his seat...
It's like watching dogs fight over a bone, except the bone is /him/.
"What the /fuck/ do you want, Fedya?" This time
Dazai bristling with hostility, Fyodor smug and cocky leaning back in his seat...
It's like watching dogs fight over a bone, except the bone is /him/.
"What the /fuck/ do you want, Fedya?" This time
its Japanese that Dazai speaks in, harsh and cutting and /rude/.
Chuuya shoots him a look, wondering what the /hell/ the attitude is about but--
Clearly these two know each other. Clearly, they have /history/ that Chuuya knows nothing about, and he doesn't know enough to step
Chuuya shoots him a look, wondering what the /hell/ the attitude is about but--
Clearly these two know each other. Clearly, they have /history/ that Chuuya knows nothing about, and he doesn't know enough to step
in between them.
He only wishes Dazai wasn't so /loud/, because people are starting to stare.
"Me?" Fyodor asks, spreading his hands in front of him innocently, eyes wide, "I don't want anything. I was just telling Chuuya over here a story."
"A /story/?" Dazai repeats,
He only wishes Dazai wasn't so /loud/, because people are starting to stare.
"Me?" Fyodor asks, spreading his hands in front of him innocently, eyes wide, "I don't want anything. I was just telling Chuuya over here a story."
"A /story/?" Dazai repeats,
disbelieving. "A story about /what/?"
Chuuya pipes up, hoping to dispel the tension by making a /joke/. "About some ancient demon prodigy who apparently caused trouble a /really/ long time ago."
Dazai looks like he just got /kicked/, whipping his head around to stare at him.
Chuuya pipes up, hoping to dispel the tension by making a /joke/. "About some ancient demon prodigy who apparently caused trouble a /really/ long time ago."
Dazai looks like he just got /kicked/, whipping his head around to stare at him.
At least Fyodor seems to think he's funny, bursting into loud laughter.
Dazai gives him a look like Chuuya has /personally/ betrayed him, moving his hand in a 'what the fuck?' gesture.
Chuuya gestures back, wondering what the hell his problem is.
'Me, what the fuck? YOU, what
Dazai gives him a look like Chuuya has /personally/ betrayed him, moving his hand in a 'what the fuck?' gesture.
Chuuya gestures back, wondering what the hell his problem is.
'Me, what the fuck? YOU, what
the fuck?'
"No, he's right," Fyodor wheezes, barely containing himself. "He's /so/ old. Ancient. Decrepit. Probably can't even get it up anymore--."
Dazai cuts him off there, letting out a /loud/ sigh. "I get it. Is that all you wanted?"
He's still stiff with tension, and he's
"No, he's right," Fyodor wheezes, barely containing himself. "He's /so/ old. Ancient. Decrepit. Probably can't even get it up anymore--."
Dazai cuts him off there, letting out a /loud/ sigh. "I get it. Is that all you wanted?"
He's still stiff with tension, and he's
standing almost /between/ them, like he's trying to block Fyodor's view.
It takes quite a few moments for Fyodor to reign himself back in, wiping a tear from under his eye. The faint eyeliner he's wearing--subtle, but noticeable that Chuuya is actually /looking/-- doesn't get
It takes quite a few moments for Fyodor to reign himself back in, wiping a tear from under his eye. The faint eyeliner he's wearing--subtle, but noticeable that Chuuya is actually /looking/-- doesn't get
smudged with how carefully he pats his eye dry.
"Actually, I came to see /you/, besy. You haven't been returning my calls lately, and it's getting very frustrating. I'm starting to get my /feelings/ hurt, and you know how I get when I'm /emotional/," Fyodor responds, blinking up
"Actually, I came to see /you/, besy. You haven't been returning my calls lately, and it's getting very frustrating. I'm starting to get my /feelings/ hurt, and you know how I get when I'm /emotional/," Fyodor responds, blinking up
him with wide eyes.
Without looking away from Dazai, he takes the final sip of his latte, sighing contently. When he wipes his mouth clean of foam, his bottom lip moves and reveals something /black/ on the inside.
What /is/ that? He didn't eat anything black, so it couldn't
Without looking away from Dazai, he takes the final sip of his latte, sighing contently. When he wipes his mouth clean of foam, his bottom lip moves and reveals something /black/ on the inside.
What /is/ that? He didn't eat anything black, so it couldn't
be food or anything like that and--
And it almost looks like /ink/.
Curious and forgetting his manners, Chuuya blurts out, "What's that on your lip?"
Violet eyes glance over,flaring with something like teasing, smug heat.
Without looking away, one of Fyodor's hands comes up.
And it almost looks like /ink/.
Curious and forgetting his manners, Chuuya blurts out, "What's that on your lip?"
Violet eyes glance over,flaring with something like teasing, smug heat.
Without looking away, one of Fyodor's hands comes up.
The tips of his fingers hook into his bottom lip, folding it down to reveal the soft pink inside.
And there, written in black ink on the inside of his lip is 'SINNER'.
Chuuya's eyes are /wide/. Doesn't that /hurt/? He can't imagine sitting there getting an /inner lip/ tattoo.
And there, written in black ink on the inside of his lip is 'SINNER'.
Chuuya's eyes are /wide/. Doesn't that /hurt/? He can't imagine sitting there getting an /inner lip/ tattoo.
The pain threshold and the /discipline/ it would take to get that done is--
Well, it's /hot/.
Taking his fingers out,Fyodor lets his lip pop back into place. "Lip tattoos fade after a year or so. When I need to get it touched up, I switch between 'sinner' and 'saint'," he says,
Well, it's /hot/.
Taking his fingers out,Fyodor lets his lip pop back into place. "Lip tattoos fade after a year or so. When I need to get it touched up, I switch between 'sinner' and 'saint'," he says,
then licks his lip slowly. "But no matter what, the tongue remains the same."
He pairs /that/ with an obvious, saucy wink and even though Chuuya is /taken/, he can't help that he's /blushing/.
Dazai bristles, damn near sending the table crashing over as he steps even /closer/.
He pairs /that/ with an obvious, saucy wink and even though Chuuya is /taken/, he can't help that he's /blushing/.
Dazai bristles, damn near sending the table crashing over as he steps even /closer/.
"There are /better/ ways to get a hold of me," he seethes, jaw clenched.
It clicks for Chuuya, suddenly. He's /jealous/.
"Sure, but how could I /possibly/ give up the chance to meet this /lovely/ partner of yours? You've told me /so/ much about him, it's like I know him
It clicks for Chuuya, suddenly. He's /jealous/.
"Sure, but how could I /possibly/ give up the chance to meet this /lovely/ partner of yours? You've told me /so/ much about him, it's like I know him
/already/."
(And poor Chuuya.He really does know /nothing/, so he's completely unaware that he just had lunch with a /predator/ that Dazai has been trying /very/ hard to keep him from.)
Chuuya blinks, surprised. If they know each other, that explains why Fyodor knows his /name/
(And poor Chuuya.He really does know /nothing/, so he's completely unaware that he just had lunch with a /predator/ that Dazai has been trying /very/ hard to keep him from.)
Chuuya blinks, surprised. If they know each other, that explains why Fyodor knows his /name/
even though Chuuya never told him.
Does that mean he was looking for Chuuya? Or was it a coincidence that he found him sitting at the cafe and came to say hello?
Was this /planned/, an elaborate ruse to trick Dazai into talking to him again?
"Chuuya, are you finished?" Dazai
Does that mean he was looking for Chuuya? Or was it a coincidence that he found him sitting at the cafe and came to say hello?
Was this /planned/, an elaborate ruse to trick Dazai into talking to him again?
"Chuuya, are you finished?" Dazai
asks, not looking away from Fyodor for even a second.
Well, yes, he is, and he /does/ want to go home because his head is starting to /throb/ and he really wants a nap--
But it feels rude to just /leave/ Fyodor like this, and so suddenly?
"Uh, yeah," he mutters, stacking his
Well, yes, he is, and he /does/ want to go home because his head is starting to /throb/ and he really wants a nap--
But it feels rude to just /leave/ Fyodor like this, and so suddenly?
"Uh, yeah," he mutters, stacking his
empty cup on top of his plate. "Is my dorm--"
Dazai interrupts him a clipped "Yep, it's done," and reaches down to urge him out of his seat. He's not /harsh/, but he's clearly urging him to hurry, fingers pressing into his arm.
Fyodor watches with a satisfied look, not saying
Dazai interrupts him a clipped "Yep, it's done," and reaches down to urge him out of his seat. He's not /harsh/, but he's clearly urging him to hurry, fingers pressing into his arm.
Fyodor watches with a satisfied look, not saying
anything until Dazai is practically /herding/ him away, pushing him in the direction of where Dazai parked the car.
"Good night, Chuuya," he calls, a hint of /something/ in his tone, something secretive and /smug/.
Chuuya nearly stumbles at that because it's /mid-morning/, what
"Good night, Chuuya," he calls, a hint of /something/ in his tone, something secretive and /smug/.
Chuuya nearly stumbles at that because it's /mid-morning/, what
the hell does he /mean/, 'good night'? That doesn't make /any/ sort of sense?
When they get out of sight, Dazai gets fed up with Chuuya's shorter legs and takes him by the arm. His grip isn't /bruising/, but it is firm and he's practically dragging Chuuya along, forcing him to
When they get out of sight, Dazai gets fed up with Chuuya's shorter legs and takes him by the arm. His grip isn't /bruising/, but it is firm and he's practically dragging Chuuya along, forcing him to
awkwardly jog to keep up.
"What is /wrong/ with you?" Chuuya snaps, jerking on his arm. It's no use; Dazai's grip is unyielding.
At no point does it hurt or does Chuuya feel in danger, but it's /frustrating/ and upsetting to be dragged around like an errant child.
Especially
"What is /wrong/ with you?" Chuuya snaps, jerking on his arm. It's no use; Dazai's grip is unyielding.
At no point does it hurt or does Chuuya feel in danger, but it's /frustrating/ and upsetting to be dragged around like an errant child.
Especially
with how /gently/ and affectionately he's been treating him the last few days.
All that care seems to have /evaporated/ right now.
"Do you have /any/ idea how much danger you were just in?" Dazai /hisses/. He sounds /livid/, but at least he's slowing down a little bit, so it's
All that care seems to have /evaporated/ right now.
"Do you have /any/ idea how much danger you were just in?" Dazai /hisses/. He sounds /livid/, but at least he's slowing down a little bit, so it's
easier to keep up.
His words make Chuuya gape, because--
/Danger/? Really? Fyodor seemed /sweet/. A little too flirty, maybe, and there was obviously some bad blood between them, but he was /nice/.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Chuuya snaps, throwing his most
His words make Chuuya gape, because--
/Danger/? Really? Fyodor seemed /sweet/. A little too flirty, maybe, and there was obviously some bad blood between them, but he was /nice/.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Chuuya snaps, throwing his most
cutting glare at the side of his head. People are starting to /stare/ now, whispering to each other as they pass, and it's /embarrassing/.
The car isn't far off now. Chuuya can see it, looming out of the distance.
Dazai pounces on that sentence quickly. "/Exactly/," he bites
The car isn't far off now. Chuuya can see it, looming out of the distance.
Dazai pounces on that sentence quickly. "/Exactly/," he bites
out, quickly crossing the distance to the car. "You have /no idea/, so /trust/ me when I say that man is /dangerous/."
Before he can come up with a response to that, they've reached the car. Dazai reaches down to open the passenger door for him, looming over him until Chuuya
Before he can come up with a response to that, they've reached the car. Dazai reaches down to open the passenger door for him, looming over him until Chuuya
gives in with an annoyed huff and climbs in.
The backseat has three small boxes in it. The entirety of Chuuya's college career.
He glares at Dazai through the windshield as he crosses across the front of the car in a handful of long, powerful, quick strides.
The driver door is
The backseat has three small boxes in it. The entirety of Chuuya's college career.
He glares at Dazai through the windshield as he crosses across the front of the car in a handful of long, powerful, quick strides.
The driver door is
/yanked/ open, and Dazai drops inside.
Chuuya greets him with a /snarl/, "Or, instead of asking me to /trust you/, you could /tell me/ what the fuck you mean by that. How is he dangerous? He seemed /normal/ to me!"
Dazai's expression twists into something like angry disbelief,
Chuuya greets him with a /snarl/, "Or, instead of asking me to /trust you/, you could /tell me/ what the fuck you mean by that. How is he dangerous? He seemed /normal/ to me!"
Dazai's expression twists into something like angry disbelief,
jamming the start button until the car roars to life. He peels out of the parking lot in livid silence, jaw clenched so hard Chuuya can /see/ the muscle bunched up there.
After a long moment of this--something that feels /almost/ like the silent treatment--, Chuuya loses his
After a long moment of this--something that feels /almost/ like the silent treatment--, Chuuya loses his
patience. He's /tired/, his head hurts, he's /sad/ because he had to drop out, he's /stressed out/--
And now Dazai is being un-fucking-reasonable.
"You don't get to just be an /asshole/ for no reason and expect me to just /believe you/!" He nearly shouts, twisting in his seat.
And now Dazai is being un-fucking-reasonable.
"You don't get to just be an /asshole/ for no reason and expect me to just /believe you/!" He nearly shouts, twisting in his seat.
"You don't get to just-- to just /say/ things, without any explanation and expect me to /understand/?! Tell me what the hell you're talking about."
Dazai nearly causes an /accident/ when he floors it out of the parking lot, silent. It's the most /reckless/ he's ever driven with
Dazai nearly causes an /accident/ when he floors it out of the parking lot, silent. It's the most /reckless/ he's ever driven with
Chuuya in the car, and that just makes him /angrier/, because Chuuya /barely/ got his seatbelt on in time before he got thrown face-first into the dashboard.
Silent. Painful, writhing, /wrathful/ silence, filling the car like a bomb getting ready to burst--
"Oh, so /you/ get to
Silent. Painful, writhing, /wrathful/ silence, filling the car like a bomb getting ready to burst--
"Oh, so /you/ get to
reprimand /me/ for being 'incapable of communicating' but when I ask /you/ to communicate, you treat me like-- like I'm throwing a /temper tantrum/!"
There's a shout, something that sounds like a /snarl/, and the palm of Dazai's hand /slams/ into the steering wheel loudly.
There's a shout, something that sounds like a /snarl/, and the palm of Dazai's hand /slams/ into the steering wheel loudly.
Chuuya didn't think he was the type to /hit/ things when he was angry, but apparently he was wrong.
"I /CAN'T/!" Dazai roars back, shaking the steering wheel like he wishes it was Chuuya he was shaking some sense into. His grip is so tight his knuckles are turning white, and
"I /CAN'T/!" Dazai roars back, shaking the steering wheel like he wishes it was Chuuya he was shaking some sense into. His grip is so tight his knuckles are turning white, and
they're at least /twenty/ miles over the speed light, flooring it up the hills to Dazai's house.
Chuuya gapes at him. "What the fuck do you /mean/ 'you can't'? If he was dangerous to me, I have a /right/ to know! What if he hurts someone on campus?!"
"Yes, you /do/ have a right
Chuuya gapes at him. "What the fuck do you /mean/ 'you can't'? If he was dangerous to me, I have a /right/ to know! What if he hurts someone on campus?!"
"Yes, you /do/ have a right
to know," Dazai seethes, taking a turn so fast that Chuuya can feel one of the tires lift off the ground. "But /I/ have a right to disclose my trauma when it is comfortable to /me/ and not when it's convenient to /you/!"
That makes Chuuya pause, fists clenches and jaw working.
That makes Chuuya pause, fists clenches and jaw working.
Because, as /angry/ as Chuuya is and as /much/ as he wants to sink his teeth into Dazai and tear him into pieces--
He does have a point with the trauma part.
It /hurts/ to admit, because he thought Dazai /trusted/ him. At least enough to tell him things.
But it's also pretty
He does have a point with the trauma part.
It /hurts/ to admit, because he thought Dazai /trusted/ him. At least enough to tell him things.
But it's also pretty
clear that Fyodor and Dazai do have /history/ between them, and apparently that means a lot of bad blood as well.
Chuuya didn't /want/ to push Dazai into a corner and make him feel like he /has/ to divulge sensitive, painful information, he just wanted to know what he /meant/.
Chuuya didn't /want/ to push Dazai into a corner and make him feel like he /has/ to divulge sensitive, painful information, he just wanted to know what he /meant/.
It also doesn't feel /fair/ for Dazai to be yelling at him and making Chuuya feel like a /bad/ person when he started this whole thing. This argument would've never happened if Dazai hadn't been such a /dick/.
Fuming and unsure of what to say that doesn't make the situation
Fuming and unsure of what to say that doesn't make the situation
worse or make him seem like the bad guy, Chuuya crosses his arms over his chest and glares out the window silently.
When they finally get home--ten minutes quicker than they usually would-- Chuuya is the first one out of the car and storming inside without even looking at Dazai.
When they finally get home--ten minutes quicker than they usually would-- Chuuya is the first one out of the car and storming inside without even looking at Dazai.
Yoko and the cat-- who Chuuya is debating on naming Mochi but something about the name just doesn't fit-- greet him at the door, and he gives them minimum pets as he pushes his way to the backyard.
He doesn't want to be inside right now. He doesn't even want to /look/ at Dazai
He doesn't want to be inside right now. He doesn't even want to /look/ at Dazai
right now, not until he can figure out what he's feeling.
It's all tangled up inside, hurt with anger and sadness and physical pain and depression and--
It's just /so/ much it makes Chuuya want to /scream/.
Dropping heavily into one of the chairs at the outside table, he puts
It's all tangled up inside, hurt with anger and sadness and physical pain and depression and--
It's just /so/ much it makes Chuuya want to /scream/.
Dropping heavily into one of the chairs at the outside table, he puts
his head in his heads and just--
Endures.
It's a struggle to calm down when his chest feels tighter than a wire about to snap, but he manages it after a while with careful breathing. He sheds a few tears, wetness collecting in his palms, but at least he isn't embarrassingly
Endures.
It's a struggle to calm down when his chest feels tighter than a wire about to snap, but he manages it after a while with careful breathing. He sheds a few tears, wetness collecting in his palms, but at least he isn't embarrassingly
sobbing like he was the day before.
His head hurts even more now, the aftereffects of the yelling.
Eventually the anger just cools down into /misery/,and it just makes Chuuya want to go /straight/ to bed,to forget any of this ever happened,forget the whole day--
"Can we talk?"
His head hurts even more now, the aftereffects of the yelling.
Eventually the anger just cools down into /misery/,and it just makes Chuuya want to go /straight/ to bed,to forget any of this ever happened,forget the whole day--
"Can we talk?"
Chuuya sniffs, picking his head up and finding Dazai lurking in the doorway between the living room and the backyard. He looks remorseful and slightly awkward, hands pushed into his pockets.
How long has he been standing there?
"About what?" Chuuya asks miserably, wiping the
How long has he been standing there?
"About what?" Chuuya asks miserably, wiping the
tears from his face.
The first thing Dazai says isn't what he's expecting it to be. Chuuya's half-tense,prepared for a continuation of their argument, but instead--
"I'm sorry."
Chuuya blinks at him, which makes Dazai's face soften with regret even more.
"I'm sorry; I didn't
The first thing Dazai says isn't what he's expecting it to be. Chuuya's half-tense,prepared for a continuation of their argument, but instead--
"I'm sorry."
Chuuya blinks at him, which makes Dazai's face soften with regret even more.
"I'm sorry; I didn't
mean to yell at you. I was /scared/ and upset, but I shouldn't have taken that out on you. I shouldn't have made you scared or yelled at you for it."
He looks so /genuine/, eyes big and clear, mouth turned down into a slight frown, that Chuuya can't help but believe him.
The
He looks so /genuine/, eyes big and clear, mouth turned down into a slight frown, that Chuuya can't help but believe him.
The
knot in his chest loosens a bit.
"I don't know why you were so /angry/. You were the one who made me worried in the first place. I just wanted to know what you meant," Chuuya says, drawing his knees up to his chest.
Dazai lets out a sigh. "I know, baby, I know," he murmurs,
"I don't know why you were so /angry/. You were the one who made me worried in the first place. I just wanted to know what you meant," Chuuya says, drawing his knees up to his chest.
Dazai lets out a sigh. "I know, baby, I know," he murmurs,
coming closer. He doesn't touch Chuuya, but he does crouch down beside him so they can have a conversation that's closer to face-to-face.
It's hard to feel /equal/ when Dazai naturally looms over him, but like this, Chuuya feels a little more like he's on even ground. Equals.
It's hard to feel /equal/ when Dazai naturally looms over him, but like this, Chuuya feels a little more like he's on even ground. Equals.
"That man," Dazai starts, looking thoughtful and almost-pained, like he's trying to decide exactly what to say, "is not a good man. He has hurt dozens of people in every way you could imagine, and he does it all to further his own goals. If he thought that hurting /you/ would get
to me, I have no doubt that he would do that."
That doesn't explain anything, not really. It's so /vague/, and even if Chuuya's mind immediately jumps into the worst scenario possible, that doesn't mean that scenario is /true/. He doesn't /understand/.
"So you guys are...
That doesn't explain anything, not really. It's so /vague/, and even if Chuuya's mind immediately jumps into the worst scenario possible, that doesn't mean that scenario is /true/. He doesn't /understand/.
"So you guys are...
business partners? Friends?" Chuuya doesn't know any friends that would treat each other like /that/ and still be considered friends, but he can't exactly judge.
"We're rivals, of a sort. We've done business together for a very long time, even if I didn't necessarily /want/ to
"We're rivals, of a sort. We've done business together for a very long time, even if I didn't necessarily /want/ to
work with him," Dazai tells him, looking up at him with an expression that's begging him to believe him and--
Chuuya /does/ believe him. He's never seen Dazai /that/ affected before, so he does believe him, it just--
There's so many details that are missing that it doesn't make
Chuuya /does/ believe him. He's never seen Dazai /that/ affected before, so he does believe him, it just--
There's so many details that are missing that it doesn't make
sense to him.
He hazards a guess. "And you're not going to tell me why he makes you so upset or what he did to you?"
"I--," Dazai stops there, blowing out a breath. He looks so /frustrated/ with himself, but also scared. Uncomfortable. "I /want/ to, and it's not just what /he/
He hazards a guess. "And you're not going to tell me why he makes you so upset or what he did to you?"
"I--," Dazai stops there, blowing out a breath. He looks so /frustrated/ with himself, but also scared. Uncomfortable. "I /want/ to, and it's not just what /he/
did to me, it's-- it's more of a long story of my childhood, and I /want/ to tell you, but it's /hard/ and it's scary."
Today is the first time Chuuya has ever heard Dazai ever admit to being afraid. The man has never so much as /flinched/ at anything else before--besides his
Today is the first time Chuuya has ever heard Dazai ever admit to being afraid. The man has never so much as /flinched/ at anything else before--besides his
hospital visit, but that would scare anyone-- so to see him so obviously affected and admitting to his fear--
It's sobering. It makes Chuuya's chest pang with sympathy, sadness bubbling up inside him.
Tentatively, he reaches out, brushing his fingers over his cheekbone softly.
It's sobering. It makes Chuuya's chest pang with sympathy, sadness bubbling up inside him.
Tentatively, he reaches out, brushing his fingers over his cheekbone softly.
He's half-expecting him to flinch away or be stiff under his hands, but Dazai leans into the touch easily, pressing his cheek into his palm.
"You know you can tell me, right? You don't have to be afraid, or think that I'll judge you or anything. You can tell me anything, Osamu."
"You know you can tell me, right? You don't have to be afraid, or think that I'll judge you or anything. You can tell me anything, Osamu."
The thing with fear is that it's not always rational. You can explain it away, you can put it into simple and easy terms, you can dissect it with logic until it's all pretty squares, easily tucked away.
But that doesn't mean it will ever go away, not if you're not ready to let
But that doesn't mean it will ever go away, not if you're not ready to let
it go.
Chuuya can see, from the desperate, cold look in Dazai's eyes, from the way he leans into his hand like he's afraid Chuuya will let go, from the way his fingers subtly tremble--
Dazai isn't ready to let it go yet.
Part of Chuuya wants to be angry about that. He's told
Chuuya can see, from the desperate, cold look in Dazai's eyes, from the way he leans into his hand like he's afraid Chuuya will let go, from the way his fingers subtly tremble--
Dazai isn't ready to let it go yet.
Part of Chuuya wants to be angry about that. He's told
him things that he's never told anyone else, and it feels /unfair/ for Dazai to still be hiding parts of himself away.
But he can't force it, and if he tries, he will only be proving him right. He'll just be proving himself untrustworthy and--
Chuuya /wants/ to be trustworthy.
But he can't force it, and if he tries, he will only be proving him right. He'll just be proving himself untrustworthy and--
Chuuya /wants/ to be trustworthy.
He wants to be the holder of all his secrets. He wants to know Dazai's dreams and wishes and nightmares, and everything about him.
He wants /everything/ and to get everything from him--
He has to be a little patient. They've only been dating for a little over six weeks. He's in
He wants /everything/ and to get everything from him--
He has to be a little patient. They've only been dating for a little over six weeks. He's in
no rush. He can be patient.
They've got forever, right?
(Right?)
"I will tell you," Dazai promises earnestly, eyes shining as he looks up at him. "I will, I just-- I need a little more time, okay?"
Chuuya can give him that. He brushes his thumb over his cheek, trying to
They've got forever, right?
(Right?)
"I will tell you," Dazai promises earnestly, eyes shining as he looks up at him. "I will, I just-- I need a little more time, okay?"
Chuuya can give him that. He brushes his thumb over his cheek, trying to
soothe away the lingering pain and anxiety he can sense in him. "Okay."
His acceptance makes Dazai relax, shuddering slightly.
There's a long peaceful moment, and then long fingers are sliding up Chuuya's shins.
"Can I have a hug?" Dazai asks, sounding almost pitiful.
His acceptance makes Dazai relax, shuddering slightly.
There's a long peaceful moment, and then long fingers are sliding up Chuuya's shins.
"Can I have a hug?" Dazai asks, sounding almost pitiful.
He doesn't /pressure/ him, he just wraps his fingers around his calf and waits for his response, staring up at him.
How can Chuuya /ever/ tell him no? When he looks like that?
Nodding, he lets his feet fall to the floor and leans forward to wrap his arms around Dazai's neck.
How can Chuuya /ever/ tell him no? When he looks like that?
Nodding, he lets his feet fall to the floor and leans forward to wrap his arms around Dazai's neck.
Dazai sinks into him with a sigh, burying his nose into Chuuya's shoulder and soaking up all the affection. His arms come up, wrapping low around his waist, pulling him to the edge of the chair.
It's warm. Makes all the tension in Chuuya's chest simmer down and loosen, drifting
It's warm. Makes all the tension in Chuuya's chest simmer down and loosen, drifting
away with every exhale like petals on the wind.
Eventually Dazai stirs, mumbling something about dinner, and getting Chuuya his medicine.
The headache has gone away now, mostly. It throbs lightly in the back of his head, but he does accept the Tylenol Dazai puts into his palm.
Eventually Dazai stirs, mumbling something about dinner, and getting Chuuya his medicine.
The headache has gone away now, mostly. It throbs lightly in the back of his head, but he does accept the Tylenol Dazai puts into his palm.
(And when Chuuya follows Dazai inside the house, his hands slide into the pockets of his jacket and he finds a note that wasn't there before.
A tiny piece of folded paper with ten digits printed on it.
A phone number.
More specifically, /Fyodor's/ phone number.)
------- +
A tiny piece of folded paper with ten digits printed on it.
A phone number.
More specifically, /Fyodor's/ phone number.)
------- +
It has been a week.
A very /long/ week, but not in a bad way. In fact, Chuuya would say it was a good week, if adjusting to his new schedule wasn't so hard.
Dazai is ceaselessly doting in a way that makes Chuuya's every want and need feel obsolete. He makes breakfast in the
A very /long/ week, but not in a bad way. In fact, Chuuya would say it was a good week, if adjusting to his new schedule wasn't so hard.
Dazai is ceaselessly doting in a way that makes Chuuya's every want and need feel obsolete. He makes breakfast in the
morning before giving Chuuya his morning round of meds. Those usually put him out of commission for a few hours, making him incredibly drowsy until lunch time is coming around.
Now that he's off the anti-convulsants-- except for on a need-to-take basis, which he thankfully
Now that he's off the anti-convulsants-- except for on a need-to-take basis, which he thankfully
hasn't needed to because he has yet to feel another seizure coming on-- that's getting better, but his body /is/ still recovering. He's never /needed/ to take a nap in the middle of the day before, and now he needs at /least/ one if he wants to avoid sleeping for fourteen hours
every night.
Lunch and dinner are similarly done, big meals that Dazai cooks for him. Chuuya can understand /why/ Dazai piles his plate high with food every time-- he can see his collarbone sharply in the mirror, and the beginnings of ribs-- it's still /hard/ to handle because
Lunch and dinner are similarly done, big meals that Dazai cooks for him. Chuuya can understand /why/ Dazai piles his plate high with food every time-- he can see his collarbone sharply in the mirror, and the beginnings of ribs-- it's still /hard/ to handle because
his appetite has yet to return, and if he eats too much he gets drowsy again.
Dazai tries to keep him entertained, watching movies with him and relaxing in the backyard, occasionally taking the dogs to the local park but--
There's only /so/ much they can do when Chuuya is
Dazai tries to keep him entertained, watching movies with him and relaxing in the backyard, occasionally taking the dogs to the local park but--
There's only /so/ much they can do when Chuuya is
easily exhausted and practically chained to the medicine cabinet.
He needs his meds twice a day, and he's still on a regimen of Tylenol to keep his headache down.
He is getting better, he knows that. Every day he has more energy, his naps are shorter, his head hurts less. His
He needs his meds twice a day, and he's still on a regimen of Tylenol to keep his headache down.
He is getting better, he knows that. Every day he has more energy, his naps are shorter, his head hurts less. His
attitude is perking up, and he's /slowly/ starting to gain weight again.
It's just frustrating, because he wants to be better /now/ and not in five more weeks. It's /horrible/ going from what he would consider healthy, to essentially being locked in the house.
That's not the
It's just frustrating, because he wants to be better /now/ and not in five more weeks. It's /horrible/ going from what he would consider healthy, to essentially being locked in the house.
That's not the
only frustrating thing.
The /most/ frustrating thing is that Dazai has /still/ not talked to him about Fyodor or his 'trauma' at all.
Chuuya doesn't want to /push/ him into it, and he understands a week isn't /that/ long, but it seems to him like Dazai is avoiding the
The /most/ frustrating thing is that Dazai has /still/ not talked to him about Fyodor or his 'trauma' at all.
Chuuya doesn't want to /push/ him into it, and he understands a week isn't /that/ long, but it seems to him like Dazai is avoiding the
conversation /entirely/. Not easing himself into it, or revealing little pieces at a time, or testing the waters.
Straight up avoiding it. Any time Chuuya brings up Fyodor or the campus or his own childhood--trying to nudge Dazai into talking about it--, Dazai just clams up.
Straight up avoiding it. Any time Chuuya brings up Fyodor or the campus or his own childhood--trying to nudge Dazai into talking about it--, Dazai just clams up.
Says he has to make a call, or let the dogs out, or that he's trying to watch the movie, or literally /anything/ to get himself out of the conversation.
It's not like Dazai has a /due/ date to tell him by, but Chuuya is not naïve enough to believe that he's going to wake up one
It's not like Dazai has a /due/ date to tell him by, but Chuuya is not naïve enough to believe that he's going to wake up one
day and just /magically/ be okay with telling Chuuya everything.
It takes progress, effort and /time/, and Chuuya is willing to work with him--
But Dazai doesn't seem willing to work at all.
There's a subtle tension in the air now, vibrating between them constantly. Dazai
It takes progress, effort and /time/, and Chuuya is willing to work with him--
But Dazai doesn't seem willing to work at all.
There's a subtle tension in the air now, vibrating between them constantly. Dazai
either doesn't feel it or he's actively avoiding it, because he's been acting /obnoxiously/ upbeat and talkative.
And there's another thing:
Chuuya hasn't thrown away the number he found in his jacket pocket, after he met Fyodor. He hasn't inputted it into his phone or done
And there's another thing:
Chuuya hasn't thrown away the number he found in his jacket pocket, after he met Fyodor. He hasn't inputted it into his phone or done
anything else with it but--
He hasn't thrown it away.
It feels almost /wrong/ that he hasn't tossed it. Like he's /cheating/ or /consorting/ with Dazai's abuser, or otherwise being a /terrible/ person but--
He's not, is he? Dazai said it wasn't that something that /Fyodor/ did
He hasn't thrown it away.
It feels almost /wrong/ that he hasn't tossed it. Like he's /cheating/ or /consorting/ with Dazai's abuser, or otherwise being a /terrible/ person but--
He's not, is he? Dazai said it wasn't that something that /Fyodor/ did
to him, it was about his /childhood/. Which implies that Fyodor was involved with his childhood, which would mean--
He would know what Dazai is talking about.
For /days/ he wrestles between a terrible, morbid curiosity, and /guilt/. He doesn't want to go behind Dazai's back,
He would know what Dazai is talking about.
For /days/ he wrestles between a terrible, morbid curiosity, and /guilt/. He doesn't want to go behind Dazai's back,
of course, but--
Dazai has /always/ been withdrawn. Even though he's known him for /months/, has been unofficially living with him for two weeks and officially for one.
Chuuya still doesn't even know what he does for his job. His parents names. If they're alive or dead. If he
Dazai has /always/ been withdrawn. Even though he's known him for /months/, has been unofficially living with him for two weeks and officially for one.
Chuuya still doesn't even know what he does for his job. His parents names. If they're alive or dead. If he
went to college. If he /didn't/ go to college. How he met Sasaki.
There are /so/ many things about Dazai that he /refuses/ to tell Chuuya and--
At some point, you stop expecting people to do what they say they will when they never follow up. They might /say/ they'll tell you
There are /so/ many things about Dazai that he /refuses/ to tell Chuuya and--
At some point, you stop expecting people to do what they say they will when they never follow up. They might /say/ they'll tell you
everything,but will they really?
It's not /fair/ that Dazai practically knows everything about him,while Chuuya only knows the basic scraps and pieces that don't fit together.
And at some point,you start to realize that if you want answers?
You have to go digging for yourself.
It's not /fair/ that Dazai practically knows everything about him,while Chuuya only knows the basic scraps and pieces that don't fit together.
And at some point,you start to realize that if you want answers?
You have to go digging for yourself.
Chuuya waits until Dazai goes grocery shopping to restock the kitchen. It feels like a /cheating/ move because it's the first time Dazai has left him alone for any length of time since his diagnoses and he had to /convince/ him that he would be okay alone for an hour or two.
Dazai only goes after nearly half an hour of kisses and reassurances that he'll come back with Chuuya's favorite candy, and /please/ call if you need me at all, for anything--
Really, it makes Chuuya feel /guilty/,because he's essentially playing him.Getting him out of the house
Really, it makes Chuuya feel /guilty/,because he's essentially playing him.Getting him out of the house
so he can make a /phone call/.
He wastes the first twenty minutes of alone time by pacing back and forth in their bedroom-- /their/ bedroom now, which makes butterflies cascade through his chest, and it's even worse when Dazai calls it /their/ bedroom-- with his phone clutched
He wastes the first twenty minutes of alone time by pacing back and forth in their bedroom-- /their/ bedroom now, which makes butterflies cascade through his chest, and it's even worse when Dazai calls it /their/ bedroom-- with his phone clutched
to his chest.
He shouldn't. Logically, he knows that and feels /terrible/ about the fact that he wants to but--
It's been months and Dazai has given him nothing.
It's--
It's only fair, right?
Dazai never has to /know/. It'll be his little secret.
His fingers shake as he
He shouldn't. Logically, he knows that and feels /terrible/ about the fact that he wants to but--
It's been months and Dazai has given him nothing.
It's--
It's only fair, right?
Dazai never has to /know/. It'll be his little secret.
His fingers shake as he
inputs the number. He has to backtrack twice to fix a mistake, and has to squint at the paper to see if that's the symbol for 2 or /3/.
Once he has it entered, he almost doesn't do it.
Thinks to himself, /why/ am I doing this--
And then hits call before he can psych himself
Once he has it entered, he almost doesn't do it.
Thinks to himself, /why/ am I doing this--
And then hits call before he can psych himself
out of it for any longer.
He /almost/ hangs up when he hears the dial tone start up, guilt and anxiety flashing up so strongly his heart feels it might burst in his chest--
He promises to hang up on the third ring. He'll take that as /fate/ that he wasn't meant to talk to
He /almost/ hangs up when he hears the dial tone start up, guilt and anxiety flashing up so strongly his heart feels it might burst in his chest--
He promises to hang up on the third ring. He'll take that as /fate/ that he wasn't meant to talk to
Fyodor.
If something stops him at all, he'll take that as a sign, and he won't try again. If he's not /meant/ to know, the call won't go through.
One ring....
An agonizingly long pause.
Two rings, somehow feeling longer than the first...
Pause.
Thr--
"Hello?"
If something stops him at all, he'll take that as a sign, and he won't try again. If he's not /meant/ to know, the call won't go through.
One ring....
An agonizingly long pause.
Two rings, somehow feeling longer than the first...
Pause.
Thr--
"Hello?"
Oh /shit/, he actually answered.
Chuuya didn't actually think this /through/, he has no idea what to say or what he wants to talk about. In his mind, Fyodor just told him this wild regaling story of his and Dazai's childhood, but Chuuya forgot he had to actually have a
Chuuya didn't actually think this /through/, he has no idea what to say or what he wants to talk about. In his mind, Fyodor just told him this wild regaling story of his and Dazai's childhood, but Chuuya forgot he had to actually have a
/conversation/ with the man.
"Uh, hi," he squeaks, ducking out of their bedroom and onto the balcony. This way he'll see if Dazai comes home before he's expected to, and at least he'll get some sun as he paces back and forth. "It's Chuuya. You know, from the cafe a week ago? You
"Uh, hi," he squeaks, ducking out of their bedroom and onto the balcony. This way he'll see if Dazai comes home before he's expected to, and at least he'll get some sun as he paces back and forth. "It's Chuuya. You know, from the cafe a week ago? You
left your number in my jacket and I was just..."
He trails off there, feeling stupid. He's rambling, trying to cover up his nerves by sheer amount of conversation.
"Ah, yes, I remember you, solnyshko," Fyodor purrs from the other side of the line. His voice is deeper on the
He trails off there, feeling stupid. He's rambling, trying to cover up his nerves by sheer amount of conversation.
"Ah, yes, I remember you, solnyshko," Fyodor purrs from the other side of the line. His voice is deeper on the
voice, raspier. More /inviting/. "I'm surprised to see you call. Dazai not able to keep up with you anymore?"
Chuuya automatically scowls at that, because this is /not/ a call for an /affair/ or anything. He just wanted answers, and as far as he knew, Fyodor is the only one who
Chuuya automatically scowls at that, because this is /not/ a call for an /affair/ or anything. He just wanted answers, and as far as he knew, Fyodor is the only one who
had them. "/No/, it's just-- I was calling because..."
How does he say it without sounding crazy or /invasive/?
This was a mistake. He shouldn't have called.
"Let me guess, love: you want to hear a story, right? But this time about /Dazai/," Fyodor says. The other side of the
How does he say it without sounding crazy or /invasive/?
This was a mistake. He shouldn't have called.
"Let me guess, love: you want to hear a story, right? But this time about /Dazai/," Fyodor says. The other side of the
line is eerily quiet, like he was expecting a call or he just happened to be in a quiet place.
"Yeah," Chuuya mutters, wrapping his free arm around his middle. "I just... I realized I don't know anything /about/ him, and I didn't know who else to ask. He basically won't tell me
"Yeah," Chuuya mutters, wrapping his free arm around his middle. "I just... I realized I don't know anything /about/ him, and I didn't know who else to ask. He basically won't tell me
anything at all. You're the only one I've /ever/ met who seems to have known Dazai before this year."
"Ah," comes the answer, but the /next/ words are what makes Chuuya's heart stop:
"He's always been like that with his victims."
/Victims?/ What the fuck does /that/ mean?
"Ah," comes the answer, but the /next/ words are what makes Chuuya's heart stop:
"He's always been like that with his victims."
/Victims?/ What the fuck does /that/ mean?
It's sunny outside, and the warmth of the sun is enough to keep him from needing a jacket--
Or at least he thought, because he /shivers/.
"What--," Chuuya asks, licking his lips because his mouth feels suddenly dry, "What do you mean by that?"
There's a sigh on the other line.
Or at least he thought, because he /shivers/.
"What--," Chuuya asks, licking his lips because his mouth feels suddenly dry, "What do you mean by that?"
There's a sigh on the other line.
"You might need a drink for this, solnyshko."
Jokes on him, because Chuuya isn't allowed to have even a /sip/ of alcohol. Dazai has even taken all the wine /and/ whiskey bottles out of the house and locked them in a safe Chuuya doesn't have the combination to.
"Just tell me."
Jokes on him, because Chuuya isn't allowed to have even a /sip/ of alcohol. Dazai has even taken all the wine /and/ whiskey bottles out of the house and locked them in a safe Chuuya doesn't have the combination to.
"Just tell me."
He just needs to know if this was all--
All a /lie/. If their entire relationship has been a /ruse/.
"Well, solnyshko, I should start by saying that Dazai is not a /good/ man. I'm sure he's said the same about me-- and I won't say that I'm /perfect/, but compared to a man like
All a /lie/. If their entire relationship has been a /ruse/.
"Well, solnyshko, I should start by saying that Dazai is not a /good/ man. I'm sure he's said the same about me-- and I won't say that I'm /perfect/, but compared to a man like
Dazai, I'm practically squeaky clean."
/Again/, with the vague details and the half-truths. Why does no one ever just /say/ what's actually going on?
"What do you mean by /that/?"
"You remember what I told you about the Demon Prodigy? I assume you've heard more as well,"
/Again/, with the vague details and the half-truths. Why does no one ever just /say/ what's actually going on?
"What do you mean by /that/?"
"You remember what I told you about the Demon Prodigy? I assume you've heard more as well,"
Fyodor asks. There's a sipping noise that breaks his speech midway through, like he's drinking something.
Chuuya makes a vaguely assenting noise, turning on his heel to pace back the other way.
"Well, Dazai /is/ the Demon Prodigy. He's been one of the bloodiest people in
Chuuya makes a vaguely assenting noise, turning on his heel to pace back the other way.
"Well, Dazai /is/ the Demon Prodigy. He's been one of the bloodiest people in
Yokohama ever since he was, oh.... fourteen? Fifteen, if I'm being generous."
He's...
He's /what/?
And as much as Chuuya would /love/ to dispute what Fyodor is saying, would love to just hang up and forget this entire conversation ever happened--
It makes sense. It /fits/.
He's...
He's /what/?
And as much as Chuuya would /love/ to dispute what Fyodor is saying, would love to just hang up and forget this entire conversation ever happened--
It makes sense. It /fits/.
The 'personal protection' business that Chuuya knows nothing about. The guard dogs. The fact that Dazai doesn't seem to have /any/ friends or coworkers. The tattoos.
The secrecy about his life and the /lies/.
It all makes sense. Makes so much fucking sense that Chuuya doesn't
The secrecy about his life and the /lies/.
It all makes sense. Makes so much fucking sense that Chuuya doesn't
know how he didn't see it /before/.
How could he be so /stupid/?
(Naturally,Chuuya has no way of knowing this, but he's fallen /right/ into Fyodor's trap.
He didn't need to drug anyone, beyond what he told Nikolai to do. He didn't need to force anyone's hand.
All he needed to
How could he be so /stupid/?
(Naturally,Chuuya has no way of knowing this, but he's fallen /right/ into Fyodor's trap.
He didn't need to drug anyone, beyond what he told Nikolai to do. He didn't need to force anyone's hand.
All he needed to
do was drive a wedge between them, /tease/ Chuuya with answers--
And wait.
Poor Chuuya will never know he's being manipulated and fed lies until it's too late.)
(Time set: 1 hour, 30 mins.
Tik. Tok.)
"And the /victims/? Those are the people he's-- the people he /killed/?"
And wait.
Poor Chuuya will never know he's being manipulated and fed lies until it's too late.)
(Time set: 1 hour, 30 mins.
Tik. Tok.)
"And the /victims/? Those are the people he's-- the people he /killed/?"
His answer is a considerate hum, like Fyodor is debating exactly what to say.
Yoko and Baki-- he decided on a name this week. Arahabaki for /destruction/, because the cat /always/ knocks over his water bowl--stare out the window as Chuuya makes another lap along the rail of the
Yoko and Baki-- he decided on a name this week. Arahabaki for /destruction/, because the cat /always/ knocks over his water bowl--stare out the window as Chuuya makes another lap along the rail of the
balcony. When Baki notices him looking, he stands up to put his front paws on the window pleadingly.
"It was, at first. But more recently, Dazai has had a /disturbing/ habit of finding sweet, innocent people like you and /corrupting/ them. Normally, I wouldn't say that's a
"It was, at first. But more recently, Dazai has had a /disturbing/ habit of finding sweet, innocent people like you and /corrupting/ them. Normally, I wouldn't say that's a
/problem/-- but somehow they always end up /dying/."
(Lie.)
Chuuya's heart skips a beat, freezing in his chest. /Dying/? As in--
"He /kills/ them?"
Fyodor makes a hitched grunting noise, like he's trying to cover up a noise he didn't intend to make. "I'm not sure. All I know
(Lie.)
Chuuya's heart skips a beat, freezing in his chest. /Dying/? As in--
"He /kills/ them?"
Fyodor makes a hitched grunting noise, like he's trying to cover up a noise he didn't intend to make. "I'm not sure. All I know
is that they disappear. Has he ever spoken to you about any past partners?"
No, not even /one/. Besides Sasaki, that is.
(On the other end of the line, Fyodor fists his hand in a mop of short brown hair, biting back irritation. Green eyes stare up at him teasingly, mouth opened
No, not even /one/. Besides Sasaki, that is.
(On the other end of the line, Fyodor fists his hand in a mop of short brown hair, biting back irritation. Green eyes stare up at him teasingly, mouth opened
/wide/ to take in the girth of his cock and--
They /know/ he's trying to conduct /business/ and can't punish them.
Yet.
Brat, he thinks fondly, pulling on hair until it hurts, and daring them to make a noise.)
"No, he hasn't. But I just assumed that was because he hadn't had
They /know/ he's trying to conduct /business/ and can't punish them.
Yet.
Brat, he thinks fondly, pulling on hair until it hurts, and daring them to make a noise.)
"No, he hasn't. But I just assumed that was because he hadn't had
any," Chuuya mutters. There were /some/ instances where Dazai seemed just as inexperienced as he was, so he didn't think much of it.
"Would you tell your future victim about your last ones?"
That...
That makes his blood run cold again.
He doesn't want to believe him. He
"Would you tell your future victim about your last ones?"
That...
That makes his blood run cold again.
He doesn't want to believe him. He
doesn't want it to make sense. But it does, it fucking does.
Except for one thing:
"Why would you tell me all of this? Dazai said you were /dangerous/, so why should I trust anything you say? What if you're lying to me? Dazai said you two weren't /friends/ anymore, so you
Except for one thing:
"Why would you tell me all of this? Dazai said you were /dangerous/, so why should I trust anything you say? What if you're lying to me? Dazai said you two weren't /friends/ anymore, so you
could be /lying/ to sabotage him, or something."
Chuuya is searching for /any/ reason not to believe him. Dazai has been /so/ nice to him, for so long. It makes his heart hurt to even /think/ about it being a trick.
It's not like they teach you in school how to recognize a
Chuuya is searching for /any/ reason not to believe him. Dazai has been /so/ nice to him, for so long. It makes his heart hurt to even /think/ about it being a trick.
It's not like they teach you in school how to recognize a
predator.
Chuuya's /always/ had good instincts though, and Dazai's never set off a single one. He's /good/, right, he's /so/ good to him--
"I could be lying, little love. I can't /prove/ myself to you. But the question shouldn't be if I'm lying. It should be that if you're
Chuuya's /always/ had good instincts though, and Dazai's never set off a single one. He's /good/, right, he's /so/ good to him--
"I could be lying, little love. I can't /prove/ myself to you. But the question shouldn't be if I'm lying. It should be that if you're
willing to /risk/ it," Fyodor responds. He sounds smug, a little /too/ casual, if you ask Chuuya.
And that is the crux of the matter, isn't it? Who he wants to believe.
Dazai, who has never treated him unkindly, but has always been veiled in a shroud of mystery. Never giving up
And that is the crux of the matter, isn't it? Who he wants to believe.
Dazai, who has never treated him unkindly, but has always been veiled in a shroud of mystery. Never giving up
any information about himself, always giving himself an escape route carved with money or knowledge.
Or Fyodor, who he has no /reason/ to trust, but has been the first one to actually answer any of his questions. The first one to willingly share information, and the only person
Or Fyodor, who he has no /reason/ to trust, but has been the first one to actually answer any of his questions. The first one to willingly share information, and the only person
that he knows of that actually /knows/ Dazai.
It's an impossible choice.
And one he doesn't have time to make because--
Dazai's black car is coming up the road, at a steady pace. Chuuya watches as he parks, and exits the car with a paper bag.
"I have to go," he mutters into
It's an impossible choice.
And one he doesn't have time to make because--
Dazai's black car is coming up the road, at a steady pace. Chuuya watches as he parks, and exits the car with a paper bag.
"I have to go," he mutters into
the phone, hanging up without waiting for an answer.
(That's fine.Rude,but fine.
Fyodor already has his man in place for the fallout.)
Chuuya watches Dazai enter the front door, heart huge and sick in his throat.
He has questions, and Dazai's going to /answer/ them this time.
(That's fine.Rude,but fine.
Fyodor already has his man in place for the fallout.)
Chuuya watches Dazai enter the front door, heart huge and sick in his throat.
He has questions, and Dazai's going to /answer/ them this time.
Chuuya doesn’t go down to greet him. He does move back into the bedroom, but he doesn’t go back downstairs.
He sits on the bed and waits, trying to cool the trembling in his fingers, trying to calm his racing heart.
Yoko sniffs worriedly at his hands, but he pushes her away
He sits on the bed and waits, trying to cool the trembling in his fingers, trying to calm his racing heart.
Yoko sniffs worriedly at his hands, but he pushes her away
gently. He doesn’t—
Hé /can’t/ deal with that right now. His mind is at war with his heart.
His /heart/ is telling him that Dazai has only ever cared for him. He’s never pushed him, even when Chuuya /wanted/ him to, and he’s always treated him in a way that makes him feel
Hé /can’t/ deal with that right now. His mind is at war with his heart.
His /heart/ is telling him that Dazai has only ever cared for him. He’s never pushed him, even when Chuuya /wanted/ him to, and he’s always treated him in a way that makes him feel
/treasured/. Cherished. Important.
Loved, in a way that doesn’t need words yet.
However, his mind is /screaming/ that that’s exactly what a /psycho/ would do. A psycho would trick him into falling head-first, wait until every single brick of his defensive walls had fallen—
Loved, in a way that doesn’t need words yet.
However, his mind is /screaming/ that that’s exactly what a /psycho/ would do. A psycho would trick him into falling head-first, wait until every single brick of his defensive walls had fallen—
And /then/ strike. They’d give nothing of /themselves/ while taking everything from Chuuya.
And isn’t that what Dazai’s doing?
Footsteps on the stairs. Quick and loud, like Dazai is /bounding/ up the stairs.
Anxiety /spikes/.
Does he know? Did—
Did Fyodor tell him?
And isn’t that what Dazai’s doing?
Footsteps on the stairs. Quick and loud, like Dazai is /bounding/ up the stairs.
Anxiety /spikes/.
Does he know? Did—
Did Fyodor tell him?
Does he have a /tracker/ on his phone or something? Is that a thing?
Oh god, if he /knows/, then is he gonna—
Is he gonna /kill him right now/?
Is this it?
Chuuya can barely /breathe/, torn between what he knows and how he /feels/.
The door flies open in the next moment,
Oh god, if he /knows/, then is he gonna—
Is he gonna /kill him right now/?
Is this it?
Chuuya can barely /breathe/, torn between what he knows and how he /feels/.
The door flies open in the next moment,
making Chuuya flinch hard.
“Baby!” Dazai crows, looking /so/ excited with a big grin. The steps he takes closer seem more like /skipping/, like an enthusiastic child. “I /missed/ you.”
Chuuya shakily smiles back at him.
“Look what I got for you,” he continues, pulling his
“Baby!” Dazai crows, looking /so/ excited with a big grin. The steps he takes closer seem more like /skipping/, like an enthusiastic child. “I /missed/ you.”
Chuuya shakily smiles back at him.
“Look what I got for you,” he continues, pulling his
hands behind his back and—
It’s not a gun or a weapon or anything else Chuuya’s half-hysterical mind would be thinking but—
A bag of candy. A /big/ bag of candy, and it’s his /ultra/ favorite.
Mostly because it’s limited edition and stores don’t sell it that often.
“The
It’s not a gun or a weapon or anything else Chuuya’s half-hysterical mind would be thinking but—
A bag of candy. A /big/ bag of candy, and it’s his /ultra/ favorite.
Mostly because it’s limited edition and stores don’t sell it that often.
“The
/big/ bag,” Dazai states, sounding /so/ damn pleased with himself, “This one should last you like a week with how quickly you eat them /but/ I got a few extra bags too, ‘cause I know how much you like them. They’re downstairs in the garage.”
He bought him /multiple/ giant bags
He bought him /multiple/ giant bags
of his favorite candy for him, without being asked to. Chuuya didn’t even know they were in /stock/ right now, and he’s only mentioned them a handful of times /maybe/.
“The shop owner said he probably wouldn’t be able to order them again because there’s not much desire for them,
“The shop owner said he probably wouldn’t be able to order them again because there’s not much desire for them,
but I’m pretty sure I can wear him down with enough time and money. What do you think?”
He—
He has to know. He can’t bear to look at how excited and /pleased/ Dazai and just—
Let it go. He /has/ to know.
“Dazai,” he says, taking a deep inhale for strength. Dazai seems to
He—
He has to know. He can’t bear to look at how excited and /pleased/ Dazai and just—
Let it go. He /has/ to know.
“Dazai,” he says, taking a deep inhale for strength. Dazai seems to
finally realize something is wrong because his smile is dimming. “Are you the Demon Prodigy?”
It’s a chance. He’s giving him a chance. Because if he /lies/ to him then—
Chuuya can’t handle that.
Those last words make Dazai recoil like he’s been /hit/, flinching away and his
It’s a chance. He’s giving him a chance. Because if he /lies/ to him then—
Chuuya can’t handle that.
Those last words make Dazai recoil like he’s been /hit/, flinching away and his
eyes widening like it’s a /shock/.
It probably is, because he never intended to /tell/ Chuuya, did he?
Watching all the warmth and happiness drain from Dazai’s expression and be replaced with stricken-cold shock shouldn’t be physically painful.
It is. Chuuya’s chest /burns/.
It probably is, because he never intended to /tell/ Chuuya, did he?
Watching all the warmth and happiness drain from Dazai’s expression and be replaced with stricken-cold shock shouldn’t be physically painful.
It is. Chuuya’s chest /burns/.
“I—,” Dazai starts, licking his lips. He’s retreated almost entirely now, back pressed against the wall like he’s /afraid/.
(Fear response: Never expose your back. Protect yourself at all costs.)
“Who told you that?”
Chuuya stares at him. It’s not a /no/, and he’s acting
(Fear response: Never expose your back. Protect yourself at all costs.)
“Who told you that?”
Chuuya stares at him. It’s not a /no/, and he’s acting
like it’s a /yes/, but he’s trying to evade the question. Trying to turn the argument /against/ him.
But unlike Dazai, Chuuya /won’t/ lie right now. “Fyodor did. I called him.”
Dazai’s expression goes slack with shock, eyes filling with /betrayal/. “You /talked/ to him? You
But unlike Dazai, Chuuya /won’t/ lie right now. “Fyodor did. I called him.”
Dazai’s expression goes slack with shock, eyes filling with /betrayal/. “You /talked/ to him? You
said you wouldn’t!”
“No,” Chuuya replies, folding his hands in his lap to cover up the trembling. “I never said that.”
It’s true. He hadn’t /explicitly/ said that, ever. It had been the implicit, silent understanding—
But he’d never /said/ he wouldn’t.
“You didn’t answer
“No,” Chuuya replies, folding his hands in his lap to cover up the trembling. “I never said that.”
It’s true. He hadn’t /explicitly/ said that, ever. It had been the implicit, silent understanding—
But he’d never /said/ he wouldn’t.
“You didn’t answer
the question though,” he continues, staring up at Dazai with narrowed eyes. “Are you, or aren’t you?”
“/No/,” Dazai says vehemently, /desperately/, like he’s trying to convince himself and Chuuya at the same time.
Chuuya’s heart sinks into his stomach. He really thought Dazai
“/No/,” Dazai says vehemently, /desperately/, like he’s trying to convince himself and Chuuya at the same time.
Chuuya’s heart sinks into his stomach. He really thought Dazai
respected him enough to at least not /lie/ to him when he’s been caught in a lie. “You’re /lying/.”
“No, I’m /not/, I—,” Dazai looks /frustrated/, pained, eyes unblinking and posture stiff. “/I’m/ not— I was, as a /kid/, but /I’m/ not. It’s not me, I never /wanted/ it to be me.”
“No, I’m /not/, I—,” Dazai looks /frustrated/, pained, eyes unblinking and posture stiff. “/I’m/ not— I was, as a /kid/, but /I’m/ not. It’s not me, I never /wanted/ it to be me.”
(Fear response: Do not look away from the thing that hurts you. It hurts worse when you’re not expecting it.)
Here’s another of Chuuya’s conundrums:
Even if Dazai doesn’t have any plans of hurting him, is he really okay with knowing, dating, loving a man that is a /murderer/?
Here’s another of Chuuya’s conundrums:
Even if Dazai doesn’t have any plans of hurting him, is he really okay with knowing, dating, loving a man that is a /murderer/?
Is he okay with knowing that the man who buys him candy and flowers used to set fires to college campuses and has /blood/ on his hands?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, morbidly curious. Honestly, he wants to /stop/ talking. He can almost feel them both splitting open the
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks, morbidly curious. Honestly, he wants to /stop/ talking. He can almost feel them both splitting open the
longer this conversation goes on, pain spilling hot and ugly between them, filling up a space that /used/ to be warm and soft. “I told you /everything/ about me.”
“Chuuya, I—,” this is the first time that Chuuya’s seen him so /obviously/ shook, not knowing what to say, words
“Chuuya, I—,” this is the first time that Chuuya’s seen him so /obviously/ shook, not knowing what to say, words
fumbling out of his grip like he doesn’t know how to speak anymore, “Look, I /respect/ you,and I know you had a hard childhood,and losing your mother was terrible. I’m /sympathetic/ to that—but you are not a /murderer/. You did not have a childhood of pain and blood and violence.
You are not on Japan’s most wanted list. You are not alive for the sole reason that your body won’t let you /die/.”
The pain in that last sentence is /immeasurable/. Dazai’s never spoken about his attempt, but he’s never /hidden/ it either. It’s like he views it as something
The pain in that last sentence is /immeasurable/. Dazai’s never spoken about his attempt, but he’s never /hidden/ it either. It’s like he views it as something
so essential and such a part of himself that he’s not /ashamed/ or embarrassed by it anymore. It just /is/.
(Hi, I’m Dazai Osamu. I have brown hair and brown eyes, and I want to die more than I’ve ever wanted to be alive.
Would you like to commit a double suicide with me?)
(Hi, I’m Dazai Osamu. I have brown hair and brown eyes, and I want to die more than I’ve ever wanted to be alive.
Would you like to commit a double suicide with me?)
“Just because you trusted me with your pain, doesn’t make mine any easier to handle. Doesn’t make /talking/ about it any easier.”
Chuuya presses his hands to his eyes, fighting back the growing headache. He wants to cry. Watching Dazai like /this/, hurt and angry and /scared/
Chuuya presses his hands to his eyes, fighting back the growing headache. He wants to cry. Watching Dazai like /this/, hurt and angry and /scared/
because of him /hurts/.
He never wanted /this/.
“Why did you give me all those speeches about /communication/ when you were hiding something so big from me? Were you /ever/ going to tell me?”
Dazai’s hands come up, and Chuuya is flinching back automatically, unsure of what
He never wanted /this/.
“Why did you give me all those speeches about /communication/ when you were hiding something so big from me? Were you /ever/ going to tell me?”
Dazai’s hands come up, and Chuuya is flinching back automatically, unsure of what
to expect when Dazai is clearly so upset and—
Dazai looks /stricken/, staring at Chuuya like he’s in /agony/ or he’s angry at /himself/, every emotion that Chuuya can think of that somehow translates to pain and betrayal and disbelief.
“Baby— Chuuya—,” hearing him correct
Dazai looks /stricken/, staring at Chuuya like he’s in /agony/ or he’s angry at /himself/, every emotion that Chuuya can think of that somehow translates to pain and betrayal and disbelief.
“Baby— Chuuya—,” hearing him correct
himself from the pet name he’s been using for /months/ is like a blow straight to Chuuya’s chest. “I’m /trying/. Please believe me. I am trying /so/ hard, and I would give you /anything/, I just— it /hurts/, and I didn’t want to /lose/ you.”
His hands finish the journey upwards,
His hands finish the journey upwards,
fingers carding through his hair and /pulling/, hard, like he can’t get through this conversation without hurting himself at least a little.
Chuuya... regrets.
He shouldn’t have done it like this. He shouldn’t have caused him /pain/ like this, but how was he supposed to /know/?
Chuuya... regrets.
He shouldn’t have done it like this. He shouldn’t have caused him /pain/ like this, but how was he supposed to /know/?
He got so caught up in his own fear and instinctive panic that he didn’t think of /Dazai/. He didn’t remember that Dazai has /feelings/ and he deserved for Chuuya to be /considerate/ of them instead of jumping him with a question like /that/.
He just wanted to bring him candy.
He just wanted to bring him candy.
And now he looks like he’s going to /cry/ or have a panic attack.
Chuuya wishes he could take it /all/ back.
“I’m /sorry/,” he says, looking directly at Dazai even if seeing his wide, unseeing eyes and knotted hair and twisted frown /hurts/. He has to /believe/ him. “It’s just
Chuuya wishes he could take it /all/ back.
“I’m /sorry/,” he says, looking directly at Dazai even if seeing his wide, unseeing eyes and knotted hair and twisted frown /hurts/. He has to /believe/ him. “It’s just
that Fyodor said...”
He trails off, not sure if he should bring it up—
But Dazai picks up on that, the heels of his hands pressed over his temples like he’s trying to hold himself together. “What? What did he tell you?”
He stares for a long, terrible moment. He doesn’t want
He trails off, not sure if he should bring it up—
But Dazai picks up on that, the heels of his hands pressed over his temples like he’s trying to hold himself together. “What? What did he tell you?”
He stares for a long, terrible moment. He doesn’t want
to /say/ it, because he’s pretty sure it won’t help, but—
He’s not a /liar/.
“He said you... had /victims/ that you manipulated, implied you killed them and that I was /next/.”
The silence is heartbreaking.
“And you /believed/ him?”
Chuuya doesn’t answer that, but his
He’s not a /liar/.
“He said you... had /victims/ that you manipulated, implied you killed them and that I was /next/.”
The silence is heartbreaking.
“And you /believed/ him?”
Chuuya doesn’t answer that, but his
silence is answer enough.
(He should’ve lied. Because this—)
Fear response: Never let anything affect you. Cut it out. Be heartless.
For a moment, Dazai just stares at him like he can’t believe what he did to him. Like the betrayal he’s experiencing is so /painful/ and
(He should’ve lied. Because this—)
Fear response: Never let anything affect you. Cut it out. Be heartless.
For a moment, Dazai just stares at him like he can’t believe what he did to him. Like the betrayal he’s experiencing is so /painful/ and
shocking that he doesn’t even have /words/.
(Because this? This is the end.)
Then he’s taking a slow, steady inhale, nodding slightly to himself. His hands are dropping away from his head, falling limp by his sides. His shoulders are squaring, but it’s a fragile sort of
(Because this? This is the end.)
Then he’s taking a slow, steady inhale, nodding slightly to himself. His hands are dropping away from his head, falling limp by his sides. His shoulders are squaring, but it’s a fragile sort of
strength, one deliberately cultivated to hide the fragility underneath.
And his eyes—
They’re /empty/. Cold, like whiskey ice, heartless and frozen. Like the Dazai /Chuuya/ knows is gone, and all that’s left is his body.
Like everything he knew about Dazai— all the ridiculous
And his eyes—
They’re /empty/. Cold, like whiskey ice, heartless and frozen. Like the Dazai /Chuuya/ knows is gone, and all that’s left is his body.
Like everything he knew about Dazai— all the ridiculous
jokes and the goofy smiles, and the early mornings and soft warmth— is /gone/.
Because it’s not for him anymore.
“Right,” Dazai says, and he sounds surprisingly clear compared to before but /disconnecting/, “In that case— I think it’s time for you to go.”
/No/. Panic opens
Because it’s not for him anymore.
“Right,” Dazai says, and he sounds surprisingly clear compared to before but /disconnecting/, “In that case— I think it’s time for you to go.”
/No/. Panic opens
like a pit in his stomach, drowning him in cold-electric nausea. No, no, no, /please/ no.
“I’m /sorry/,” Chuuya gasps out again, the tears finally welling up in his eyes. He stumbles up off the bed,tripping towards Dazai, hoping he’ll reach out for him, hoping he’ll /catch/ him—
“I’m /sorry/,” Chuuya gasps out again, the tears finally welling up in his eyes. He stumbles up off the bed,tripping towards Dazai, hoping he’ll reach out for him, hoping he’ll /catch/ him—
He does neither. He just /watches/, expression totally blank.
“I’m /sorry,” he repeats, “I didn’t /mean/ it, I was just scared and confused and— please, I’m so sorry.”
When Dazai speaks, it’s with this /flat/ monotone, expressionless. “Maybe you didn’t mean it, but I did.
“I’m /sorry,” he repeats, “I didn’t /mean/ it, I was just scared and confused and— please, I’m so sorry.”
When Dazai speaks, it’s with this /flat/ monotone, expressionless. “Maybe you didn’t mean it, but I did.
It’s time for you to go home, /Nakahara/.”
That word— that /name/— cuts through him like a /knife/. A dull one, that tears him up to the bone, shredding his soul into tiny, agonized pieces.
Dazai has /never/ called him that. It’s always been Chuuya or baby or doll or sweetheart
That word— that /name/— cuts through him like a /knife/. A dull one, that tears him up to the bone, shredding his soul into tiny, agonized pieces.
Dazai has /never/ called him that. It’s always been Chuuya or baby or doll or sweetheart
or literally /anything/ else. Never /that/, never so cold, never so hurtful.
“But—,” Chuuya’s tears spill over, sliding down his cheeks. Dazai’s eyes watch them go, unflinching, “but I /love/ you.”
He doesn’t mean to say it. Never would have wanted to say it like this.
“But—,” Chuuya’s tears spill over, sliding down his cheeks. Dazai’s eyes watch them go, unflinching, “but I /love/ you.”
He doesn’t mean to say it. Never would have wanted to say it like this.
It’s the first time he’s ever told a boy that loves him. The first time the thought has even /crossed/ his mind. The first time he’s ever felt like this, and he knows this is supposed to be a happy moment—
But it’s not. It’s like trying to fit a bandaid over a bullet wound,
But it’s not. It’s like trying to fit a bandaid over a bullet wound,
like trying to fix a broken heart with words that should’ve been said sometime else.
It seems to shock something awake in Dazai, because he’s /blinking/ now, and his eyes aren’t dead-black anymore. More of a faded brown, that grows weaker when he sees how close Chuuya is to
It seems to shock something awake in Dazai, because he’s /blinking/ now, and his eyes aren’t dead-black anymore. More of a faded brown, that grows weaker when he sees how close Chuuya is to
/sobbing/.
/ Please, I didn’t /mean/ it. I know I fucked up, but please let me /fix/ it. /
“No, you don’t,” Dazai says, taking Chuuya’s heart in hand and /shredding/ it with cold, emotionless words, “You’re too young to know what that word means.”
People say that their
/ Please, I didn’t /mean/ it. I know I fucked up, but please let me /fix/ it. /
“No, you don’t,” Dazai says, taking Chuuya’s heart in hand and /shredding/ it with cold, emotionless words, “You’re too young to know what that word means.”
People say that their
hearts break when something tragic happens. Some, the dramatic ones, say their hearts shatter.
Personally, Chuuya thinks /shatter/ is too kind of a word. It implies that things can be mended. The pieces will cut your fingers when you pick them up, but if you get all of them,
Personally, Chuuya thinks /shatter/ is too kind of a word. It implies that things can be mended. The pieces will cut your fingers when you pick them up, but if you get all of them,
you can be whole again. Even if you get /most/ of them, you’ll be okay.
Chuuya’s heart does not shatter. That is not a strong enough word for how he feels.
It’s like a /black hole/ has opened up somewhere inside him, with gravity strong enough to shred planets, and is sucking
Chuuya’s heart does not shatter. That is not a strong enough word for how he feels.
It’s like a /black hole/ has opened up somewhere inside him, with gravity strong enough to shred planets, and is sucking
every fiber of Chuuya’s being inside of it and /destroying/ it. It’s /awful/, like little strips are being peeled off at a time, leaving him raw, exposed, /crying/.
And just like Dazai has always done, since the first time they met, he takes everything that Chuuya is—
“And
And just like Dazai has always done, since the first time they met, he takes everything that Chuuya is—
“And
even if you did, someone who /loved/ me wouldn’t do this to me.”
— and /escalates/ it.
Chuuya is shaking. He can recognize that in the back of his head, faintly, but he’s too preoccupied with the fact that his chest and throat feel like they’re on /fire/.
God, it hurts.
— and /escalates/ it.
Chuuya is shaking. He can recognize that in the back of his head, faintly, but he’s too preoccupied with the fact that his chest and throat feel like they’re on /fire/.
God, it hurts.
Hurts much more than breaking his arm during Judo practice, much more than falling the last three steps of his childhood home, much more than seizing out in the hospital with his brain feeling like it’s frying itself with electricity.
It’s /agony/, visceral, hot-blooded agony
It’s /agony/, visceral, hot-blooded agony
that he can barely /see/ past, because it feels like a living thing determined to take all of Chuuya down with it.
“I—,” he gasps, reaching out to grab Dazai. Dazai let’s him, but he doesn’t move into or away from his grip on his shirt.
It’s like he doesn’t /care/ what Chuuya
“I—,” he gasps, reaching out to grab Dazai. Dazai let’s him, but he doesn’t move into or away from his grip on his shirt.
It’s like he doesn’t /care/ what Chuuya
does anymore. Like he’s so utterly indifferent that he doesn’t even bother to push him off.
“I can come back, right? Tomorrow? Please, I know I messed up, but let me /fix/ it.”
There’s a moment where Chuuya dares to have hope. His vision is blurry through the tears but he’s
“I can come back, right? Tomorrow? Please, I know I messed up, but let me /fix/ it.”
There’s a moment where Chuuya dares to have hope. His vision is blurry through the tears but he’s
close enough that he can see the emotionless mask Dazai is wearing start to fracture.
/Please/, let me come back tomorrow, he thinks desperately, hand fisted in his shirt.
Then the mask /twists/, and whatever hope Chuuya had is once again being used to cut him wide open.
/Please/, let me come back tomorrow, he thinks desperately, hand fisted in his shirt.
Then the mask /twists/, and whatever hope Chuuya had is once again being used to cut him wide open.
“Why would you want to come back? Aren’t you afraid I’ll /kill you/?”
It’s /seething/, a glimpse into the roiling hurt and anger Dazai must be feeling.
It hurts enough to send Chuuya stumbling backwards again, feeling like his hand was /burned/.
He—
He can’t do this
It’s /seething/, a glimpse into the roiling hurt and anger Dazai must be feeling.
It hurts enough to send Chuuya stumbling backwards again, feeling like his hand was /burned/.
He—
He can’t do this
anymore. He can’t—
Maybe he deserves it, but he didn’t know what else to /do/ and Dazai wouldn’t talk to him, and now he’s begging him not to—
Not to /break up/ with him.
But they did, didn’t they? Dazai basically told him to leave and /never/ come back.
It’s over. It’s
Maybe he deserves it, but he didn’t know what else to /do/ and Dazai wouldn’t talk to him, and now he’s begging him not to—
Not to /break up/ with him.
But they did, didn’t they? Dazai basically told him to leave and /never/ come back.
It’s over. It’s
all over.
His life, his college career, his future, his /relationship/. All of it, gone.
And it’s all his fault, isn’t it?
He needs to leave. He can’t even /look/ at Dazai right now without feeling the threads of his self-control and restraint start to shred.
He’s going
His life, his college career, his future, his /relationship/. All of it, gone.
And it’s all his fault, isn’t it?
He needs to leave. He can’t even /look/ at Dazai right now without feeling the threads of his self-control and restraint start to shred.
He’s going
to break down and he doesn’t want Dazai to /watch/, but first—
He pulls his hands up, fumbling at the buckle of his collar. He’s not used to taking it off— Dazai usually does it before and after his showers, and he never takes it off for long— and his fingers are shaking so
He pulls his hands up, fumbling at the buckle of his collar. He’s not used to taking it off— Dazai usually does it before and after his showers, and he never takes it off for long— and his fingers are shaking so
badly he can barely get a grip on it. He nearly loses impatience and /rips/ it off but—
He loves it. He /treasures/ the damn thing, and even if he doesn’t have the right to wear it anymore, that doesn’t mean he wants to /break/ it.
Eventually the buckle slides free, and the
He loves it. He /treasures/ the damn thing, and even if he doesn’t have the right to wear it anymore, that doesn’t mean he wants to /break/ it.
Eventually the buckle slides free, and the
collar comes off.
Dazai still doesn’t look like he wants to touch him, so Chuuya has no where else to throw it but the floor between them, the burning of the last bridge.
“I’m gonna go to my sisters,” Chuuya mumbles miserably, trying to wipe his eyes so he can at least see.
Dazai still doesn’t look like he wants to touch him, so Chuuya has no where else to throw it but the floor between them, the burning of the last bridge.
“I’m gonna go to my sisters,” Chuuya mumbles miserably, trying to wipe his eyes so he can at least see.
Every tear that he manages to wipe away is quickly replaced to another. “I’ll, uh, get my stuff later, I guess.”
That’s an agony Chuuya has never experienced before. Giving back all the gifts he was given, digging out all his things out of Dazai’s closet. Taking everything that
That’s an agony Chuuya has never experienced before. Giving back all the gifts he was given, digging out all his things out of Dazai’s closet. Taking everything that
is /his/ out of the place he had started to consider /home/.
Dazai eyes drop to the collar lying on the floor between them, and his expression starts to crack. His eyes flare with something like /pain/.
"I'll drive you," he says, moving like he's going to shove off the wall--
Dazai eyes drop to the collar lying on the floor between them, and his expression starts to crack. His eyes flare with something like /pain/.
"I'll drive you," he says, moving like he's going to shove off the wall--
"No!" Chuuya nearly /shouts/, because he /can't/ handle that. He can't hold himself together for /that/ long, and he doesn't want Dazai to watch as he breaks apart agonizingly at the seams.
It also /started/ with a ride home, and the idea of ending it with one is too much.
It also /started/ with a ride home, and the idea of ending it with one is too much.
"No, I'll call my sister and have her pick me up."
Dazai hesitates at that, and looks like he wants to argue--
But he can't. So eventually he nods, and his eyes feel like a searing burn on his back as Chuuya turns around and stumbles out of the bedroom.
Navigating the stairs
Dazai hesitates at that, and looks like he wants to argue--
But he can't. So eventually he nods, and his eyes feel like a searing burn on his back as Chuuya turns around and stumbles out of the bedroom.
Navigating the stairs
is /hard/ when he's nearly blind with tears and he's starting to feel lightheaded, but he manages it without falling.
And just when Chuuya thought it couldn't get /worse/--
Yoko is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, her ears flattened with anxiety and her head
And just when Chuuya thought it couldn't get /worse/--
Yoko is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs, her ears flattened with anxiety and her head
tilting back and forth curiously. She whines at him as he comes closer, tail thumping hesitantly on the ground.
Oh, god, /Yoko/. He's never going to see her again. Maybe once when he comes to get his stuff, but this is /goodbye/.
He practically falls to his knees beside her,
Oh, god, /Yoko/. He's never going to see her again. Maybe once when he comes to get his stuff, but this is /goodbye/.
He practically falls to his knees beside her,
flinging his arms around her neck and burying his face into her fur. She's more subdued than she usually is, leaning into him solidly as he smothers a heartbroken sob into her neck.
"I'm /sorry/," he chokes out again, even though he knows she doesn't really understand what's
"I'm /sorry/," he chokes out again, even though he knows she doesn't really understand what's
going on. All she knows is that there's something /wrong/ and that he's upset.
That's the /worst/ part, because Chuuya can't tell her he's not coming back.She'll always be looking out for him and so /sad/ when he doesn't come back for her.
"I /love/ you, baby girl, I /promise.
That's the /worst/ part, because Chuuya can't tell her he's not coming back.She'll always be looking out for him and so /sad/ when he doesn't come back for her.
"I /love/ you, baby girl, I /promise.
Okay? I'm sorry. You just-- you just be a /good/ girl, and I'll miss you forever," he whispers into her fur, rising up to give her a wet kiss on the nose.
She licks him back, whining slightly.
After that, he /has/ to go, because he's nearing the breaking point, and if he holds
She licks him back, whining slightly.
After that, he /has/ to go, because he's nearing the breaking point, and if he holds
Yoko any longer, he's not going to be able to /let go/.
Baki is nowhere to be seen, thankfully,-- he runs when voices get too loud, so he's probably hiding somewhere-- because Chuuya can/not/ handle that.
He stumbles out the front door, shutting it behind him for the last time.
Baki is nowhere to be seen, thankfully,-- he runs when voices get too loud, so he's probably hiding somewhere-- because Chuuya can/not/ handle that.
He stumbles out the front door, shutting it behind him for the last time.
His phone is in his back pocket, and he wrestles it out of his jeans as he staggers down the driveway.
He's not thinking anything, he's just thinking he needs to get /away/, he needs to go /home/, he needs to /find/ home because he doesn't have one anymore, it hurts, it hurts,
He's not thinking anything, he's just thinking he needs to get /away/, he needs to go /home/, he needs to /find/ home because he doesn't have one anymore, it hurts, it hurts,
it /hurts/.
It takes three tries for him to unlock his phone. Partly because of the way the sun is shining on the screen, so he makes his way to the bit of shade between the two houses, partly because his vision is blurry with tears, partly because his fingers are shaking.
It's
It takes three tries for him to unlock his phone. Partly because of the way the sun is shining on the screen, so he makes his way to the bit of shade between the two houses, partly because his vision is blurry with tears, partly because his fingers are shaking.
It's
been a while since he's talked to Kouyou, so he has to go to his contacts page and scroll--
"Chuuya?"
Startled, Chuuya looks up. There, in the shadows of the alleyway, is someone he /knows/.
"Oh," he mutters, frantically trying to get a hold of himself and not wondering /why/
"Chuuya?"
Startled, Chuuya looks up. There, in the shadows of the alleyway, is someone he /knows/.
"Oh," he mutters, frantically trying to get a hold of himself and not wondering /why/
he would be here, outside like this, at this time. "Sorry, I didn't see you there--."
"I'm sorry, Chuuya."
A painful /slam/ against the back of his head, and Chuuya's world goes blissfully, utterly silent.
Darkness.
-------- +
"I'm sorry, Chuuya."
A painful /slam/ against the back of his head, and Chuuya's world goes blissfully, utterly silent.
Darkness.
-------- +
Dazai is a firm believer in the idea that anything he could ever want will inevitably be lost. Not only because life has been a cruel mistress to him and taken /much/ more from him than she's ever given, leaving him hollow and riddled with teeth-sharp holes--
But also because
But also because
Dazai is a master of fulfilling his own prophecies.
It's like a sick cycle, because whatever he /anticipates/ somehow, inevitably, comes to pass and--
He just wants to stop /hurting/ all the time. He's done good, he's /been/ good for a long time, and he's done the best he can
It's like a sick cycle, because whatever he /anticipates/ somehow, inevitably, comes to pass and--
He just wants to stop /hurting/ all the time. He's done good, he's /been/ good for a long time, and he's done the best he can
with what he has and--
It's not /fair/ that he /always/ ends up cradling the empty, cavernous, /wrathful/ hole in his chest, where his heart would be if he were ever allowed to have one.
It's the collar that brings him back, eventually. He can't look away from it, lying limp
It's not /fair/ that he /always/ ends up cradling the empty, cavernous, /wrathful/ hole in his chest, where his heart would be if he were ever allowed to have one.
It's the collar that brings him back, eventually. He can't look away from it, lying limp
and discarded on the wooden floor.
It--
It shouldn't be like that. It should be taken /care/ of, should be /treasured/, because it's a symbol of their /bond/, and it should never be thrown away so carelessly.
He's halfway between here and nowhere, feeling horribly disconnected
It--
It shouldn't be like that. It should be taken /care/ of, should be /treasured/, because it's a symbol of their /bond/, and it should never be thrown away so carelessly.
He's halfway between here and nowhere, feeling horribly disconnected
from himself in a way that fills him with sick-numbness. Everything feels so distant and /visceral/ at the same time, a confusing mix. Everything he's feeling is like a tidal wave of anesthesia in his lungs, numbing him out and drowning him in equal measures.
It's been a long
It's been a long
time since he's felt anything like this, instinct-driven and defensive, so long he almost doesn't know how to find his way /back/. He knows he'll come back down eventually, but he doesn't /like/ it.
But the true thing to bring him back isn't the sight of the collar.
It's Baki.
But the true thing to bring him back isn't the sight of the collar.
It's Baki.
It’s mid-afternoon now, just around the time where Chuuya usually settles down for his mid-day nap. It’s not scheduled or anything, but it usually works out that shortly after lunch Chuuya will hit a wall and will need a nap to recharge.
For Baki, that means it’s prime cuddle
For Baki, that means it’s prime cuddle
time. Mostly because Dazai doesn’t dare to interrupt it.
They’ve been in a silent rivalship ever since Baki moved in, a tug-of-war of dominance to see who gets more of Chuuya. Baki /insists/ that because he’s a cute cat, that means he gets /all/ the cuddle time, the best spots
They’ve been in a silent rivalship ever since Baki moved in, a tug-of-war of dominance to see who gets more of Chuuya. Baki /insists/ that because he’s a cute cat, that means he gets /all/ the cuddle time, the best spots
and /all/ the attention.
Meanwhile, /Dazai/ insists that /he/ gets the most attention because he was here first and it’s his house, his bed and his baby—
Not his baby anymore. The thought splinters through him agonizingly.
Anyways, mid-day nap is Baki time, and he’s come
Meanwhile, /Dazai/ insists that /he/ gets the most attention because he was here first and it’s his house, his bed and his baby—
Not his baby anymore. The thought splinters through him agonizingly.
Anyways, mid-day nap is Baki time, and he’s come
looking for Chuuya. He can tell because the first thing the cat does is good on the bed and look vaguely offended that Chuuya isn’t already there waiting for him.
After a second of sniffing the blankets, he jumps back off the bed and heads into the closet, his questioning meow
After a second of sniffing the blankets, he jumps back off the bed and heads into the closet, his questioning meow
echoing from inside.
A pause, and then a louder meow, like he’s calling out for Chuuya and wondering why he won’t answer him.
The next place he checks is the bathroom, and the meows are getting more frequent. Louder, with a hint of distress.
When he pads out again, his tail
A pause, and then a louder meow, like he’s calling out for Chuuya and wondering why he won’t answer him.
The next place he checks is the bathroom, and the meows are getting more frequent. Louder, with a hint of distress.
When he pads out again, his tail
is drooping low, a far cry from it’s usually waving in the air smugly.
This time he comes up to Dazai, rubbing against his shin and arching his back.His mew is softer, trailing off sadly, questioning.
That’s what breaks Dazai.Because it’s not him that Baki wants—
It’s Chuuya.
This time he comes up to Dazai, rubbing against his shin and arching his back.His mew is softer, trailing off sadly, questioning.
That’s what breaks Dazai.Because it’s not him that Baki wants—
It’s Chuuya.
He knows that Dazai /always/ brings him up here. Sometimes Chuuya will fall asleep on the couch or in Dazai’s lap, and Dazai will have to bring him up to the bed so he can sleep well.
Baki knows that. He’s not asking for affection from Dazai, he’s asking him to /bring Chuuya/.
Baki knows that. He’s not asking for affection from Dazai, he’s asking him to /bring Chuuya/.
And that—
The realization of the fact that this was Chuuya’s /home/, and all of the pets know and love him, and they don’t understand why he’s not /here/—
That’s what breaks him.
His knees buckle first, his back crashing into the wall and sliding down as his body gives in.
The realization of the fact that this was Chuuya’s /home/, and all of the pets know and love him, and they don’t understand why he’s not /here/—
That’s what breaks him.
His knees buckle first, his back crashing into the wall and sliding down as his body gives in.
His ass hits the floor hard, sending a shockwave of pain through him that feels insignificant compared to the pain in his chest.
“He’s—,” he sounds remarkably calm at first, but it’s only for a short moment, before everything catches up to him. “He’s not /here/, Baki.”
The
“He’s—,” he sounds remarkably calm at first, but it’s only for a short moment, before everything catches up to him. “He’s not /here/, Baki.”
The
cat peers up at him, not comprehending. He meows again, arching his back and flicking his tail invitingly.
That’s the last straw.
“/Fuck/!” Dazai chokes out, slamming the back of his head into the wall as the tears finally come.
He’s a silent crier. A long ago defense
That’s the last straw.
“/Fuck/!” Dazai chokes out, slamming the back of his head into the wall as the tears finally come.
He’s a silent crier. A long ago defense
mechanism that was drilled into him, the idea that calling attention for himself or any weakness of his own would end in /pain/. It takes a /lot/ for him to cry, too, emotional response deadened by trauma after trauma—
But when he does cry, it /pours/.
His cheeks are drenched
But when he does cry, it /pours/.
His cheeks are drenched
in /seconds/, salt-water dripping from his chin onto his arms.
He lurches forward, snatching up Baki and the discarded collar in each hand. Baki lets out a surprised, shocked meow, but doesn't fight when he drags him into his chest to wrap him up in his arms.
The cat tolerates
He lurches forward, snatching up Baki and the discarded collar in each hand. Baki lets out a surprised, shocked meow, but doesn't fight when he drags him into his chest to wrap him up in his arms.
The cat tolerates
it, limp in his grip and not fighting but not /loving/ it either.
Dazai buries his face into his fur, clinging onto one of the last pieces of Chuuya he has left. The collar in his other hand feels heavier than it ever has, nearly burning.
"I /fucked up/, Baki," he chokes out,
Dazai buries his face into his fur, clinging onto one of the last pieces of Chuuya he has left. The collar in his other hand feels heavier than it ever has, nearly burning.
"I /fucked up/, Baki," he chokes out,
grief tearing through him like a riptide. Regret is hot on it's heels, filling every tear and scar inside of him.
What Chuuya did-- going behind his back and believing Fyodor over /him/, even though Dazai has never done anything to deliberately hurt him-- was such a /terrible/
What Chuuya did-- going behind his back and believing Fyodor over /him/, even though Dazai has never done anything to deliberately hurt him-- was such a /terrible/
thing to come back. Something so unexpected that he didn't know to /prepare/ for it, so when Chuuya /asked/, it--
It's like the words tore /straight/ into the deepest, darkest parts of his mind. The parts he doesn't think about, the emotions he doesn't let himself feel anymore,
It's like the words tore /straight/ into the deepest, darkest parts of his mind. The parts he doesn't think about, the emotions he doesn't let himself feel anymore,
the things he put to sleep years ago--
And woke them with a /vengeance/, starting a self-ravaging that leaves him breathless.
Dazai is his own victim, just as much as he is anyone else's. There's unique pain in tearing yourself apart from the inside out, the horror that lurks
And woke them with a /vengeance/, starting a self-ravaging that leaves him breathless.
Dazai is his own victim, just as much as he is anyone else's. There's unique pain in tearing yourself apart from the inside out, the horror that lurks
inside your bones and calls itself by your name.
He--
He just wanted to give him /candy/ and tell him that he was /trying/ to get a regular stock of it so he wouldn't have to go months without it anymore.
It was like being /attacked/ and--
Dazai fought back. When his back
He--
He just wanted to give him /candy/ and tell him that he was /trying/ to get a regular stock of it so he wouldn't have to go months without it anymore.
It was like being /attacked/ and--
Dazai fought back. When his back
was against the wall, feeling like he had nowhere to go, he did /exactly/ what he said he would /never/ do--
He /hurt/ Chuuya. In ways he shouldn't have, in ways he didn't /deserve/ because--
Because he said he /loved/ him. It wasn't the right time, it wasn't on /purpose/, but
He /hurt/ Chuuya. In ways he shouldn't have, in ways he didn't /deserve/ because--
Because he said he /loved/ him. It wasn't the right time, it wasn't on /purpose/, but
he could /see/ it there, swimming in Chuuya's eyes.
Could see it building in him ever since Osaka, soft warmth building in summer-blue eyes, like a cloud drifting on the sunrise. Dazai's personal little addiction, something he wanted to cup in his hands to keep it safe, breathe
Could see it building in him ever since Osaka, soft warmth building in summer-blue eyes, like a cloud drifting on the sunrise. Dazai's personal little addiction, something he wanted to cup in his hands to keep it safe, breathe
it in like air.
He knew it was there. He /wanted/ it to be there.
And he /threw/ it away. Took Chuuya's confession-- his /first/ confession, ever-- and told him it meant /nothing/. Threw it to the ground like the collar had been thrown, crushing it underfoot.
It broke him.
He knew it was there. He /wanted/ it to be there.
And he /threw/ it away. Took Chuuya's confession-- his /first/ confession, ever-- and told him it meant /nothing/. Threw it to the ground like the collar had been thrown, crushing it underfoot.
It broke him.
He could see it, see the way that the trust Dazai has so /carefully/ cultivated and encouraged after he was treated /badly/ by Shuuji start to crack.
Worse than that, Chuuya /needs/ him. He's sick right now, barely ten days out from a serious medical condition. It may not /seem/
Worse than that, Chuuya /needs/ him. He's sick right now, barely ten days out from a serious medical condition. It may not /seem/
serious because he managed to avoid something like surgery or an extended hospital stay but it /is/ serious. He's supposed to be on mostly bed rest for /another/ five weeks.
Dazai promised to always be there for him. Promised to trust him and support him, and keep him safe and
Dazai promised to always be there for him. Promised to trust him and support him, and keep him safe and
happy and warm and /loved/ and--
And he didn't. As /soon/ as things had taken even a slight turn for the worse, he'd defaulted straight into the mindset he'd worked so hard to overcome:
Hurt /them/ before they can hurt you.
He's not /stupid/, either, he knows that the reason
And he didn't. As /soon/ as things had taken even a slight turn for the worse, he'd defaulted straight into the mindset he'd worked so hard to overcome:
Hurt /them/ before they can hurt you.
He's not /stupid/, either, he knows that the reason
went looking for answers is because Dazai wouldn't give him any. He was /avoiding/ it, because he was /petrified/ that Chuuya would--
That he would /leave/ and never come back, and Dazai would be alone again. He doesn't want to be alone anymore. He's gotten used to the sound and
That he would /leave/ and never come back, and Dazai would be alone again. He doesn't want to be alone anymore. He's gotten used to the sound and
comfort of someone else being here. Sleeping in his bed with him, eating meals with him, being in the house while Dazai was paying attention to something else upstairs.
He got used to not being alone anymore. He doesn't want to go /back/ there, to the coldness of an empty house.
He got used to not being alone anymore. He doesn't want to go /back/ there, to the coldness of an empty house.
Or the discomfort of a house with Shuuji in it, that silent tension of dislike and irritation infecting the whole house.
He was /scared/ to tell Chuuya because--
Because of /exactly/ what happened today. Miscommunication, mistranslation, the rearing of the ugly head of Dazai's
He was /scared/ to tell Chuuya because--
Because of /exactly/ what happened today. Miscommunication, mistranslation, the rearing of the ugly head of Dazai's
trauma and defensive responses, hurting each other, /crying/.
He never wanted to make Chuuya /cry/ like that.
And it's just--
God it's just /so/ much, in every way he looks at it, missteps and mistakes made by both of them. So much that he's smothering a fresh flood of tears
He never wanted to make Chuuya /cry/ like that.
And it's just--
God it's just /so/ much, in every way he looks at it, missteps and mistakes made by both of them. So much that he's smothering a fresh flood of tears
into Baki's fur, breath trembling.
How did it all go so wrong so /quickly/? How is it even possible that Dazai was happy and /excited/ barely an hour and a half ago, and now he feels like he's going to drown in his own grief and misery?
It's not /fair/. None of this is /fair/.
How did it all go so wrong so /quickly/? How is it even possible that Dazai was happy and /excited/ barely an hour and a half ago, and now he feels like he's going to drown in his own grief and misery?
It's not /fair/. None of this is /fair/.
Chuuya wasn't fair to /him/, Dazai wasn't fair to Chuuya, it's just an entire fucking mess that ended up hurting them both.
He rubs his thumb over the metal of the heart in the collar, aching.
How are /either/ of them going to fix this? How are they going to be able to move
He rubs his thumb over the metal of the heart in the collar, aching.
How are /either/ of them going to fix this? How are they going to be able to move
past this?
Is there a way to move past this, or is this just /it/, everything good they had going up in flames in the span of an hour.
The beeping of Dazai's phone in his back pocket startles him, making him flinch in surprise.
Baki takes that moment to escape his hold,
Is there a way to move past this, or is this just /it/, everything good they had going up in flames in the span of an hour.
The beeping of Dazai's phone in his back pocket startles him, making him flinch in surprise.
Baki takes that moment to escape his hold,
wiggling out of his arms and relocating to a spot a few yards away to give his ruffled fur quick, offended licks to smooth it back down.
The beeping on his phone is for a reminder to give Chuuya his mid-day dose of pain meds, so he doesn't get a headache later.
His /meds/.
The beeping on his phone is for a reminder to give Chuuya his mid-day dose of pain meds, so he doesn't get a headache later.
His /meds/.
He didn't take them /with/. He went to his sisters house /without his meds/.
The pharmacist said that a single missed dose was alright, but don't double up on doses and don't take them within twelve hours of eachother.
If--
If Chuuya doesn't come back tonight, he's going to
The pharmacist said that a single missed dose was alright, but don't double up on doses and don't take them within twelve hours of eachother.
If--
If Chuuya doesn't come back tonight, he's going to
miss a dose. And if he doesn't come back before early tomorrow morning--
That's /two/ doses. When he's only /ten/ days out of the hospital, where his brain swelled so much he /seized/.
Is he going to have another seizure if he doesn't take his meds? Probably. It makes sense.
That's /two/ doses. When he's only /ten/ days out of the hospital, where his brain swelled so much he /seized/.
Is he going to have another seizure if he doesn't take his meds? Probably. It makes sense.
Panic floods through Dazai so quickly that he barely thinks before he’s calling Chuuya’s number and bringing his phone to his ear.
It’s okay if he’s angry or /hurt/ or he doesn’t want to see or talk to Dazai again—
But he /has/ to come get his meds. Or let Dazai drop them off.
It’s okay if he’s angry or /hurt/ or he doesn’t want to see or talk to Dazai again—
But he /has/ to come get his meds. Or let Dazai drop them off.
He /can’t/ be hurt because Dazai’s such a fuck-up that healthy communication is basically impossible for him.
The call goes straight to voicemail. Maybe he’s so angry and hurt he turned his phone off?
“Baby—,” he gets most of the way through the word before he remembers he
The call goes straight to voicemail. Maybe he’s so angry and hurt he turned his phone off?
“Baby—,” he gets most of the way through the word before he remembers he
may not be able to call him that anymore, “— /Chuuya/, I—,” he really hopes that the fact that he’s /obviously/ been crying makes it clear that he regrets what happened, because it’s not often that words fail him, but he has /no/ idea what to say right now. “I know you’re hurt
and you might not want to talk to me and— that’s okay, I just— I didn’t /mean/ it, okay?”
It feels /so/ hypocritical to use the same excuse Chuuya did, and hopes that he believes him.
“I shouldn’t have said those things to you, I was just /upset/, and hurt and surprised and—
It feels /so/ hypocritical to use the same excuse Chuuya did, and hopes that he believes him.
“I shouldn’t have said those things to you, I was just /upset/, and hurt and surprised and—
I’m /sorry/, so just... at least come back for your meds, it’s only five hours until your next dose. You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to, and that’s okay, but just... come get your meds /please/, you need them.”
The silence of the voicemail box is oppressive.
The silence of the voicemail box is oppressive.
Eventually, he has no choice but to hang up and /hope/.
Silent treatment has never really been Chuuya’s chosen mode of arguments— he /prefers/ yelling, which Dazai both loves and hates. Communication, even angry communication is nice, but the yelling itself makes Dazai’s
Silent treatment has never really been Chuuya’s chosen mode of arguments— he /prefers/ yelling, which Dazai both loves and hates. Communication, even angry communication is nice, but the yelling itself makes Dazai’s
stomach squirm unpleasantly— so the fact that he didn’t answer is...
Surprising. Not /unwarranted/, because he wouldn’t want to talk someone like /himself/ either right now, but still unusual.
He balances his phone on his knee, turning the notification noise all the way in
Surprising. Not /unwarranted/, because he wouldn’t want to talk someone like /himself/ either right now, but still unusual.
He balances his phone on his knee, turning the notification noise all the way in
case Chuuya decides to call. Or text.
/Please/ call or text.
In the meantime, he just sits on the floor, feeling too weak to pull himself up to his feet, turning the collar over and over in his hands.
They’ve had a /few/ discussions about what a collar meant to them both
/Please/ call or text.
In the meantime, he just sits on the floor, feeling too weak to pull himself up to his feet, turning the collar over and over in his hands.
They’ve had a /few/ discussions about what a collar meant to them both
and while they weren’t in a BDSM relationship with clear contracts, rules and boundaries—
The collar was supposed to be a symbol of care and commitment. Something that /both/ of them wanted, a sign that Chuuya was /wanted/ and Dazai would take /care/ of him.
But instead of
The collar was supposed to be a symbol of care and commitment. Something that /both/ of them wanted, a sign that Chuuya was /wanted/ and Dazai would take /care/ of him.
But instead of
doing that, he’d been keeping secrets that could’ve put Chuuya in danger.
That’s when another thing occurs to him.
/Fyodor/.
He doesn’t exactly have a /reason/ to be interested in Chuuya, because the business between him and Dazai has been consistent and relatively peaceful.
That’s when another thing occurs to him.
/Fyodor/.
He doesn’t exactly have a /reason/ to be interested in Chuuya, because the business between him and Dazai has been consistent and relatively peaceful.
Granted, he’s been /avoiding/ Fyodor for the last few weeks, but it’s not like the man doesn’t have his own information channels.
Dazai’s been avoiding the Mafia too, truthfully, and has deliberately not returned Oda’s calls.
It only took a few weeks with Chuya to realize how
Dazai’s been avoiding the Mafia too, truthfully, and has deliberately not returned Oda’s calls.
It only took a few weeks with Chuya to realize how
/tired/ he was with this whole charade. Tired of playing unofficial king to the Mafia, tired of playing nice with the Rats, tired of threatening and scheming and everything.
He didn’t want to /do/ this anymore. He just wanted to be happy and /okay/, and every time he made
He didn’t want to /do/ this anymore. He just wanted to be happy and /okay/, and every time he made
another business deal or hunted down another scrap of information, he just—
It felt /hollow/. Draining. Finding the ghost of who he used to be in the Mafia, and wearing it like a second skin. A mask that was sticky and horrible and didn’t want to come off.
Obviously Fyodor
It felt /hollow/. Draining. Finding the ghost of who he used to be in the Mafia, and wearing it like a second skin. A mask that was sticky and horrible and didn’t want to come off.
Obviously Fyodor
had shown /some/ interest in him, because there was no reason for him to be on campus, and the /phone call/—
Which means Chuuya is in /danger/.
He calls again, anxiety pulsing as the dial tone starts up. It clicks immediately, and he sits up straighter, hope flaring as Chuuya’s
Which means Chuuya is in /danger/.
He calls again, anxiety pulsing as the dial tone starts up. It clicks immediately, and he sits up straighter, hope flaring as Chuuya’s
voice starts to filter through the speaker—
“Hey, it’s Chuuya! You missed me, so leave a message and I’ll call you back if it’s important!”
Oh. It’s just the voicemail again.
/Fuck/.
Okay, he’ll just—
He’ll give him an hour to calm down and cool off. He said he was going
“Hey, it’s Chuuya! You missed me, so leave a message and I’ll call you back if it’s important!”
Oh. It’s just the voicemail again.
/Fuck/.
Okay, he’ll just—
He’ll give him an hour to calm down and cool off. He said he was going
to his sisters and he has no reason to believe that Fyodor is even /going/ to make a move on Chuuya. That fucker would probably just be happy reminding Dazai that he’s not /allowed/ to have anything for himself.
He’s probably safe. Yoko and Kozo would be freaking out if they
He’s probably safe. Yoko and Kozo would be freaking out if they
sensed anyone they didn’t know, and they’re pretty quiet downstairs. A quiet whine or too, sometimes, because they’re not used to /yelling/, but nothing alarming.
Even Baki, while clearly annoyed, has retreated to his favorite spot on the bed—Chuuya’s pillow— and is serenely
Even Baki, while clearly annoyed, has retreated to his favorite spot on the bed—Chuuya’s pillow— and is serenely
grooming himself.
Still, Dazai can't get over the feeling that something is /wrong/. It's a restless feeling, like electricity pooling in his stomach, driving him up and starting to pace back and forth.
He wishes he had Chuuya's sisters phone number. Or even just a /name/
Still, Dazai can't get over the feeling that something is /wrong/. It's a restless feeling, like electricity pooling in his stomach, driving him up and starting to pace back and forth.
He wishes he had Chuuya's sisters phone number. Or even just a /name/
because he's only spoken of her using 'ane-san'. Or Kyouka-chan, for the middle sister, but she still lives at his fathers house, so that's not where he's going.
He /could/ look her up with the background check he ran on Chuuya so long ago-- he's pretty sure he remembers her
He /could/ look her up with the background check he ran on Chuuya so long ago-- he's pretty sure he remembers her
name being Ozaki Nakahara--but he'll need to double-check to make sure...
Or he could check on the tracker he installed in Chuuya's phone.
It's /such/ a violation of privacy that he's avoided using it at all possible, and only glances at the map when he's feeling the seperation
Or he could check on the tracker he installed in Chuuya's phone.
It's /such/ a violation of privacy that he's avoided using it at all possible, and only glances at the map when he's feeling the seperation
anxiety pretty hard. He /tries/ to avoid using it whenever possible, and since they've been practically living together for the past two weeks, it hasn't been used much.
He--
He just needs to check to see if he's okay. If he's at his sister's house. If he knows where he is,
He--
He just needs to check to see if he's okay. If he's at his sister's house. If he knows where he is,
then he can calm down a little bit. It's been almost an hour, and Chuuya still hasn't answered, so--
He needs to know.He /has/ to know.
Opening his phone again, he hovers over Chuuya's contact before exiting out of the messaging app. The tracking app he uses is one specifically
He needs to know.He /has/ to know.
Opening his phone again, he hovers over Chuuya's contact before exiting out of the messaging app. The tracking app he uses is one specifically
designed and coded for him by Rokuzou. It's nameless, but it has a skin that makes it look like one of the food delivery apps. Almost unnoticeable unless you know what you're looking for.
He opens it, puts in Chuuya's contact number and waits for the map to load.
And waits.
He opens it, puts in Chuuya's contact number and waits for the map to load.
And waits.
It takes longer than it usually does, longer than it /should have/, and every second the loading image chases itself across the screen in endless circles, his anxiety ratchets higher and higher.
He wouldn't say he's normally a high-strung person, but now it feels like every
He wouldn't say he's normally a high-strung person, but now it feels like every
second takes a /year/, heart thundering in his chest--
LOCATION FOUND.
Letting out a relieved breath, he clicks on the map. He's hoping for a building with a street address that he can cross-reference with the owner to confirm his safety--
It's not.
It's /outside/.
LOCATION FOUND.
Letting out a relieved breath, he clicks on the map. He's hoping for a building with a street address that he can cross-reference with the owner to confirm his safety--
It's not.
It's /outside/.
Not outside in the city somewhere or even down the street a little bit, it's /right/ outside. Like Chuuya hasn't even left the house, he's just sitting outside on the steps.
Why wouldn't he answer the phone if he was so close? Dazai made sure it was charged before he left for
Why wouldn't he answer the phone if he was so close? Dazai made sure it was charged before he left for
the grocery store, so there's no /reason/ for it to be off. And if he was waiting for his sister to pick him up, it wouldn't make sense for his phone to be turned off either.
He could just be rejecting his calls, but...
Something is /wrong/.
Baki startles when he /bolts/ out
He could just be rejecting his calls, but...
Something is /wrong/.
Baki startles when he /bolts/ out
of the room, taking the stairs two at a time and skipping the bottom half entirely with a massive leap.
He lands heavily, making Yoko and Kozo jerk to attention, but he ignores them both as he makes for the door. Kozo falls naturally into step at his side, ears alert and tail
He lands heavily, making Yoko and Kozo jerk to attention, but he ignores them both as he makes for the door. Kozo falls naturally into step at his side, ears alert and tail
stiff.
He's the first one out of the door when Dazai opens it, inspecting the steps of the front entrance.
Dazai is half-expecting to find Chuuya on his doorstep, or Fyodor /with/ Chuuya, but he's not expecting to find /nothing/. The yard is empty and the street is quiet.
He's the first one out of the door when Dazai opens it, inspecting the steps of the front entrance.
Dazai is half-expecting to find Chuuya on his doorstep, or Fyodor /with/ Chuuya, but he's not expecting to find /nothing/. The yard is empty and the street is quiet.
There's nobody here. not that he can see.
But then...where is Chuuya's phone?
Ignoring the instincts that are starting to scream in his head, Dazai pulls up the map again, forcing it to refresh and zooming in as far as he can.
It's... right here.
It has to be a glitch, right?
But then...where is Chuuya's phone?
Ignoring the instincts that are starting to scream in his head, Dazai pulls up the map again, forcing it to refresh and zooming in as far as he can.
It's... right here.
It has to be a glitch, right?
Chuuya turned his phone off while he was still here and the tracker just hasn't updated.
It's like a desperate mantra in his head,using any and every excuse to believe that everything is /okay/ and /normal/, telling himself over and over again that there isn't a reason to worry,
It's like a desperate mantra in his head,using any and every excuse to believe that everything is /okay/ and /normal/, telling himself over and over again that there isn't a reason to worry,
that he's just overreacting and there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything that's happened that /isn't/ the fact that Chuuya has gotten /hurt/--
The pink collar, loosely wrapped twice around his wrist, feels like a hangman's noose made specifically for him.
The pink collar, loosely wrapped twice around his wrist, feels like a hangman's noose made specifically for him.
Kozo trots down the steps, nose to the ground and snuffling. He's always had a better nose out of the two of them, and Dazai follows in his path, casting his eyes over the ground for any sort of clue.
The silence is oppressive, pressing on his ears until it feels like he's
The silence is oppressive, pressing on his ears until it feels like he's
underwater. Drowning.
Kozo leads him off the yard entirely, toward the little alleyway between his house and the neighbors.He chose this house specifically for that tiny alleyway, because it winds a cramped path between the houses on this street and the one behind it. It empties
Kozo leads him off the yard entirely, toward the little alleyway between his house and the neighbors.He chose this house specifically for that tiny alleyway, because it winds a cramped path between the houses on this street and the one behind it. It empties
out on the next street over, a street that directly connects to one of the several ways to climb down from the residential area back into the city.
Dazai chose it because it's an escape route if he needed it and now--
Now it's been used /against/ him because--
There, on the
Dazai chose it because it's an escape route if he needed it and now--
Now it's been used /against/ him because--
There, on the
ground, looking like it's been stomped on several times, is Chuuya's /phone/.
And this--
This is the moment where Dazai's heart feels like it just /stops/. Freezes in his chest, going numb with despair and /realization/.
(He's always been more effective when he's /cold/.)
And this--
This is the moment where Dazai's heart feels like it just /stops/. Freezes in his chest, going numb with despair and /realization/.
(He's always been more effective when he's /cold/.)
His only thought is /no/. This can't be real, this can't be happening.
This is a nightmare. This is all just a nightmare, a fucked up dream concocted by his equally messed up brain to remind him that nothing is permanent. Nothing and /no one/ is safe.
His hands tremble as he
This is a nightmare. This is all just a nightmare, a fucked up dream concocted by his equally messed up brain to remind him that nothing is permanent. Nothing and /no one/ is safe.
His hands tremble as he
reaches down to pick it up off the ground. Kozo sniffs around the spot.
The screen is completely smashed, like someone stomped on it with their heel. The back of it is all scratched up from being ground into the gravel, and when he presses the power button on the side, half the
The screen is completely smashed, like someone stomped on it with their heel. The back of it is all scratched up from being ground into the gravel, and when he presses the power button on the side, half the
screen is completely black. The other half is a mess of glitches and color mistakes.
Chuuya's lock screen background /was/ a picture of them in Osaka. A selfie of them in bed, when Dazai was too drowsy to protest a picture being taken of him. Chuuya had been curled up against
Chuuya's lock screen background /was/ a picture of them in Osaka. A selfie of them in bed, when Dazai was too drowsy to protest a picture being taken of him. Chuuya had been curled up against
his side, one arm thrown over his chest. His head had been tucked under Dazai's chin, a warm grin on his face and his eyes practically glowing with affection.
Dazai himself had been mostly asleep still, bedhead wild. The only sign he's awake at all is that he has one eye just
Dazai himself had been mostly asleep still, bedhead wild. The only sign he's awake at all is that he has one eye just
barely cracked open, a lazy and indulgent smile on his face.
It was, anyways. Now the screen is completely and utterly broken, and the only thing that can be seen is a sliver of the blanket bunched up at their sides.
A hint of Dazai’s smile, half-formed, broken and twisted.
It was, anyways. Now the screen is completely and utterly broken, and the only thing that can be seen is a sliver of the blanket bunched up at their sides.
A hint of Dazai’s smile, half-formed, broken and twisted.
This was not a mistake. This was not an accident.
Chuuya’s phone wouldn’t get /this/ damaged by accident, and he wouldn’t have left without it.
This was /purposeful/. His phone was broken so he /couldn’t use it anymore/.
Kozo makes a noise then, something between a low growl
Chuuya’s phone wouldn’t get /this/ damaged by accident, and he wouldn’t have left without it.
This was /purposeful/. His phone was broken so he /couldn’t use it anymore/.
Kozo makes a noise then, something between a low growl
and a snuffle.
The noise makes Dazai look up, anxiety rising like the tide.
Kozo is a few feet away, nose to the ground. Dazai paces over, hoping he’s found /something/ interesting. A clue, something Dazai can /use/.
It takes him a few moments to find it in the darkness of
The noise makes Dazai look up, anxiety rising like the tide.
Kozo is a few feet away, nose to the ground. Dazai paces over, hoping he’s found /something/ interesting. A clue, something Dazai can /use/.
It takes him a few moments to find it in the darkness of
the alleyway. It’s so easy to miss.
Blood. Tiny drops of it in a small patch, looking almost fresh. Not wet anymore but still /new/.
No, no, /no/.
His blood turns cold, aching in his veins, ice-water and numbing grief, hard to breathe.
Chuuya’s gone. He’s been /taken/.
—-+
Blood. Tiny drops of it in a small patch, looking almost fresh. Not wet anymore but still /new/.
No, no, /no/.
His blood turns cold, aching in his veins, ice-water and numbing grief, hard to breathe.
Chuuya’s gone. He’s been /taken/.
—-+
The first thing that Chuuya registers is that his head /aches/. Pulsing agony centered in the back of his head that radiates down his neck and through the rest of his head. He can feel every beat of his heat, blood pulsing painfully in his head.
That’s what starts to bring him
That’s what starts to bring him
up out of unconsciousness.
His second realization is how fucking /cold/ it is. An insidious type of cold, one that seeps into his bones to freeze him from the inside out. Like he’s never seen the touch of sun before, all the warmth he’s ever known faded away.
It’s also /wet/.
His second realization is how fucking /cold/ it is. An insidious type of cold, one that seeps into his bones to freeze him from the inside out. Like he’s never seen the touch of sun before, all the warmth he’s ever known faded away.
It’s also /wet/.
A disgusting, lingering damp kind of wet, like he's in a place that has never been truly dry. It layers grossly over his skin, making his clothes stick to him and adding another facet to the aching cold.
He opens his eyes, groaning lightly at the rhythmic pulse of pain through
He opens his eyes, groaning lightly at the rhythmic pulse of pain through
his temples and--
Darkness. Uninterrupted, pure darkness, like it's pitch black in here without any light to speak of.
Why can't he see? He can't see /anything/ at all, even though his eyes are open. He blinks frantically, hoping to clear up whatever is blocking his vision--
Darkness. Uninterrupted, pure darkness, like it's pitch black in here without any light to speak of.
Why can't he see? He can't see /anything/ at all, even though his eyes are open. He blinks frantically, hoping to clear up whatever is blocking his vision--
But it doesn't go away. It doesn't clear up. He can't /see/.
Panic flashes through him, white-hot and incoherent, and a whimper slides out of his throat. He struggles briefly, trying to bring his hands up to check what's wrong with his eyes--
His hands are tied. He can feel
Panic flashes through him, white-hot and incoherent, and a whimper slides out of his throat. He struggles briefly, trying to bring his hands up to check what's wrong with his eyes--
His hands are tied. He can feel
the rope digging into his wrists, harsh and burning. His fingers have long since gone numb.
It... feels like he’s in a chair? Upright but slumped forward, shoulders burning from the strain of supporting his body weight when his arms are secured behind him.
What the fuck
It... feels like he’s in a chair? Upright but slumped forward, shoulders burning from the strain of supporting his body weight when his arms are secured behind him.
What the fuck
happened? Where the hell is he?
The last thing he remembers is fighting with Dazai— a pang of remembered breath shocks through his chest at the reminder— and then going outside to call Kouyou to come pick him up and then—
/Nikolai/. With a remorseful look on his face as he—
The last thing he remembers is fighting with Dazai— a pang of remembered breath shocks through his chest at the reminder— and then going outside to call Kouyou to come pick him up and then—
/Nikolai/. With a remorseful look on his face as he—
As he fucking /knocked him out/ with the butt of a /gun/.
And he’s not /stupid/, no one knocks him out and ties him to a chair to throw him a /surprise/ party. In fact, this is pretty much /exactly/ what happens in those movies about the Yakuza or any kidnapping.
A hoarse,
And he’s not /stupid/, no one knocks him out and ties him to a chair to throw him a /surprise/ party. In fact, this is pretty much /exactly/ what happens in those movies about the Yakuza or any kidnapping.
A hoarse,
exhausted chuckle escapes him.
It’s not funny. It’s /really/ not funny, he knows that, it’s just so fucking /absurd/ that he can’t help snickering at the ridiculousness of it all.
He’s /only/ eighteen. Barely six months living away from home. He’s had a boyfriend, found out
It’s not funny. It’s /really/ not funny, he knows that, it’s just so fucking /absurd/ that he can’t help snickering at the ridiculousness of it all.
He’s /only/ eighteen. Barely six months living away from home. He’s had a boyfriend, found out
he was attracted to /dad’s/, has a daddy kink, nearly got run over by a car, went to the hospital, dropped out of college, broke up with his boyfriend—
And now he’s here. Probably kidnapped. A /hostage/.
It’s just so goddamn /ridiculous/. If you had told Chuuya he’d end up
And now he’s here. Probably kidnapped. A /hostage/.
It’s just so goddamn /ridiculous/. If you had told Chuuya he’d end up
like /this/, he’d ask what movie plot you were describing.
Okay, it’s a /little/ funny. Maybe it’s the brain damage— or maybe the extra brain damage on top of his other brain damage— but it /is/ kind of funny.
He really cannot catch a /single/ break, can he? It’s just
Okay, it’s a /little/ funny. Maybe it’s the brain damage— or maybe the extra brain damage on top of his other brain damage— but it /is/ kind of funny.
He really cannot catch a /single/ break, can he? It’s just
like being strapped into a rollercoaster, and every time he comes back into the station thinking it’s over, someone tightens the seatbelts and sends him, screaming, onto an even /worse/ part of the ride with a kiss goodbye. It never /ends/.
“Ah, you are awake. That is good.”
“Ah, you are awake. That is good.”
Chuuya jerks, head whipping up so quickly his mind swims. He didn’t know there was anyone in the room with him until they /said/ something.
There is something uniquely, primally /terrifying/ about having one of your senses taken away from you. You never realize how much you
There is something uniquely, primally /terrifying/ about having one of your senses taken away from you. You never realize how much you
rely on things like sight and hearing and touch, taste, smell—
Until it’s taken away from you. Leaving you helpless and disoriented, struggling to adjust to a world you didn’t know before.
It’s a throwback to ancient times, before humans had dominated the planet and changed
Until it’s taken away from you. Leaving you helpless and disoriented, struggling to adjust to a world you didn’t know before.
It’s a throwback to ancient times, before humans had dominated the planet and changed
the face of it to suit their needs. A time when the sun going down meant /danger/, it meant you couldn’t /see/, it meant all the things that could and /would/ kill you came out to play.
Unseen sharks in the water. Silent hunting cats creeping through the underbrush, a quick
Unseen sharks in the water. Silent hunting cats creeping through the underbrush, a quick
glimpse of hellish, glowing eyes in the darkness. Tiny, unseen spiders finding your foot and crawling up, up, /up/—
Someone in the room with Chuuya, who he does not know or recognize. Someone he can’t see or /hear/, no matter how hard he strains his ears.
As he moves, the bag
Someone in the room with Chuuya, who he does not know or recognize. Someone he can’t see or /hear/, no matter how hard he strains his ears.
As he moves, the bag
over his head shifts. The darkness doesn’t let up, but at least there’s a /reason/ he can’t see.
(He couldn’t help but remember that conversation with Gide about /brain damage/. Instead of being the guy who forgot his own husband, maybe Chuuya would be the guy who lost his
(He couldn’t help but remember that conversation with Gide about /brain damage/. Instead of being the guy who forgot his own husband, maybe Chuuya would be the guy who lost his
vision.
Wouldn’t that be fan-fucking-tastic?)
Chuuya licks his lips nervously, panic spiking in his chest. “Who are you? Where am I?”
This time, when the voice comes, it sounds from /behind/ him, making him flinch in surprise. He didn’t hear the person move at /all/, didn’t
Wouldn’t that be fan-fucking-tastic?)
Chuuya licks his lips nervously, panic spiking in his chest. “Who are you? Where am I?”
This time, when the voice comes, it sounds from /behind/ him, making him flinch in surprise. He didn’t hear the person move at /all/, didn’t
even feel so much as the shift of air currents,but now the person is /behind/ him.
“You’re six feet underground, boy,” the person sneers. Their Japanese is stilted, and their accent is heavy and vaguely familiar.Not a native speaker. “/Death’s/ number. You’re in your own grave.”
“You’re six feet underground, boy,” the person sneers. Their Japanese is stilted, and their accent is heavy and vaguely familiar.Not a native speaker. “/Death’s/ number. You’re in your own grave.”
Chuuya takes it back. This isn’t funny at all. Not even a little bit.
He opens his mouth to ask again who this person—a /girl/ by the sounds of it, but with a rough and low voice— is, but he’s cut off when a hand finds his head and pushes it.
It’s /playful/, more than hurting,
He opens his mouth to ask again who this person—a /girl/ by the sounds of it, but with a rough and low voice— is, but he’s cut off when a hand finds his head and pushes it.
It’s /playful/, more than hurting,
like a cat batting around a captured bird with it’s paws, claws sheathed. A game for the predator,but /lethal/ for the prey.
Chuuya’s chair wobbles, two legs coming up off the ground briefly. It’s unstable, on uneven ground, and he holds his brief in preparation for the /fall/—
Chuuya’s chair wobbles, two legs coming up off the ground briefly. It’s unstable, on uneven ground, and he holds his brief in preparation for the /fall/—
The hand that pushed him changes it's grip, latching onto his hair through the bag and dragging him back onto stable ground.
He winces as the hair over the bump on the back of his head is tugged harshly. It /burns/.
"That was your only question. I will ask them now," the girl
He winces as the hair over the bump on the back of his head is tugged harshly. It /burns/.
"That was your only question. I will ask them now," the girl
says to him, tapping long claw-like nails over his head.
Then she's /gone/, like she was never touching him at all, disappearing into the darkness of wherever Chuuya is right now. His breathing is oppressively loud in the bag, humidity sticking to his face.
"You are Nakahara
Then she's /gone/, like she was never touching him at all, disappearing into the darkness of wherever Chuuya is right now. His breathing is oppressively loud in the bag, humidity sticking to his face.
"You are Nakahara
Chuuya, yes?" This time, the voice is slightly to his right, farther off. It echoes oddly off the walls, sounding strangely hollow. Like.. concrete, maybe? An empty room, with only them in it.
Now, Chuuya has a /major/ flaw: when he gets frightened, he doesn't turn into a crying
Now, Chuuya has a /major/ flaw: when he gets frightened, he doesn't turn into a crying
mess, or starts to beg, or goes silent. Not any of those things, not anything most people would consider a /normal/ response.
No, when he gets scared, he gets /mad/. And when he's mad, he gets /mouthy/.
"Sure am," he says, offering a carefree shrug like his heart isn't pounding
No, when he gets scared, he gets /mad/. And when he's mad, he gets /mouthy/.
"Sure am," he says, offering a carefree shrug like his heart isn't pounding
in his chest like a drumbeat calling for war. "What should I call you? I feel like we should be a first-name basis for whatever is about to happen."
"You know Dazai Osamu." The left again, accompanied by the ever-so-slight tinkle of something small and metal.
It's not so much a
"You know Dazai Osamu." The left again, accompanied by the ever-so-slight tinkle of something small and metal.
It's not so much a
question as a statement of fact, but it makes Chuuya's stomach sink.
Oh. That's what this is about. He's being questioned--maybe /tortured/, his brain is quick to remind him-- for information on Dazai.
This isn't about him at all. He didn't do anything wrong at all, except for
Oh. That's what this is about. He's being questioned--maybe /tortured/, his brain is quick to remind him-- for information on Dazai.
This isn't about him at all. He didn't do anything wrong at all, except for
the crime of being involved with Dazai.
His silence is apparently answer enough, because there's a loud, screeching noise in the next moment, like something being dragged over concrete.
This time, next to his ear, a whisper as cold as the northern winds: "You will tell me about
His silence is apparently answer enough, because there's a loud, screeching noise in the next moment, like something being dragged over concrete.
This time, next to his ear, a whisper as cold as the northern winds: "You will tell me about
him. Everything you know."
But Chuuya doesn't /know/ anything about him, not really. The last few hours-- even longer? He doesn't know what time it is or even what day it is anymore-- have shown him that.
Dazai's fed him nothing but lies of omission, and even if Chuuya was
But Chuuya doesn't /know/ anything about him, not really. The last few hours-- even longer? He doesn't know what time it is or even what day it is anymore-- have shown him that.
Dazai's fed him nothing but lies of omission, and even if Chuuya was
wrong about the way he went about getting answers--he realizes that and can admit it-- that doesn't mean that Dazai did right by /him/ either.
And now he's paying the price for it. Because he /highly/ doubts that he can tell this girl that he doesn't know anything and she'll
And now he's paying the price for it. Because he /highly/ doubts that he can tell this girl that he doesn't know anything and she'll
just believe him and let him go. He's pretty sure saying that will just piss her off, actually,and get him into deeper shit.
"Uh, sure," he says, stalling a little bit, hoping his mind comes up with /anything/ useful for him right now, "His favorite color is green, and he really
"Uh, sure," he says, stalling a little bit, hoping his mind comes up with /anything/ useful for him right now, "His favorite color is green, and he really
likes those shitty medical dramas on TV. He usually sleeps from like 4a.m to 9, and he has two dogs. He also likes being called Daddy if that helps you out--ow!"
The bag deadens the blow when he's smacked across the face, but it still stings slightly. Not as much as he /expects/
The bag deadens the blow when he's smacked across the face, but it still stings slightly. Not as much as he /expects/
it to hurt, but enough to startle him. Enough to have him quieting down.
"Where is the USB he has on the Rats? Where does he keep his blackmail?"
This time there's a /slosh/ of water next to the chair, and he's starting to get a really, /really/ bad feeling about this.
"Where is the USB he has on the Rats? Where does he keep his blackmail?"
This time there's a /slosh/ of water next to the chair, and he's starting to get a really, /really/ bad feeling about this.
"I," his voice quavers in the middle of his sentence, and he has to bring it back under control. "I don't /know/, I don't even know who the Rats /are/."
It's the /truth/, he swears, he doesn't know /anything/. How does he make her believe that.
"I believe you," is his answer,
It's the /truth/, he swears, he doesn't know /anything/. How does he make her believe that.
"I believe you," is his answer,
and for a moment, hope /soars/--
"But unfortunately, that is not enough for me. You know where he keeps his information, his papers. You know more than you think,and you will tell me. Where is his office?"
This time, it's not stupidity or stubbornness that keeps his mouth shut.
"But unfortunately, that is not enough for me. You know where he keeps his information, his papers. You know more than you think,and you will tell me. Where is his office?"
This time, it's not stupidity or stubbornness that keeps his mouth shut.
It's loyalty. Blind loyalty that urges him to keep Dazai's secrets, despite the fact that he's in a /very/ bad situation. Loyalty that urges him to protect Dazai, at a cost.
He's only allowed a minute of silence, before a hand is knotting in his hair over the bag and yanking his
He's only allowed a minute of silence, before a hand is knotting in his hair over the bag and yanking his
head back.
He yelps, neck twinging at the sudden movement. His face is turned up now.
"Being stubborn will not help you. Cooperate and I will go easy on you. I will ask you again. Where does Dazai Osamu keep his information?"
He presses his lips together, squeezing his eyes
He yelps, neck twinging at the sudden movement. His face is turned up now.
"Being stubborn will not help you. Cooperate and I will go easy on you. I will ask you again. Where does Dazai Osamu keep his information?"
He presses his lips together, squeezing his eyes
shut. He doesn't /know/, not for sure, though he thinks they might just be talking about Dazai's office, which is in his house--
It's a room that's /always/ locked unless he's in it, and the only one to see into it have been Chuuya and Shuuji.
There's a /pleased/ hum beside his
It's a room that's /always/ locked unless he's in it, and the only one to see into it have been Chuuya and Shuuji.
There's a /pleased/ hum beside his
ear, like the girl is /happy/ that he's being silent. "You are stubborn. I like that. But I will break you of it, because I've--" another slosh of water, closer, /louder/, and he whimpers automatically. "I've come for /you/, Nakahara Chuuya."
Water pours down on his face.
----+
Water pours down on his face.
----+
THREE DAYS AGO. MOSCOW, RUSSIA.
It is a cold year in Russia. Summer has been bleak and mild, and winter—
Winter has come early this year. It brings with it a bone-deep chill, an icy touch that deepens when the sun goes down.
The Moscow skyline is a beautiful sight at night,
It is a cold year in Russia. Summer has been bleak and mild, and winter—
Winter has come early this year. It brings with it a bone-deep chill, an icy touch that deepens when the sun goes down.
The Moscow skyline is a beautiful sight at night,
the glow of the city lights dulled through a layer of frozen fog that hangs still in the air. Heat rises in the city, before it's trapped underneath the icy grips of the sky.
Taking a long drag of her cigarette, Nika adds to that fog, blowing out a stream of smoke that curls and
Taking a long drag of her cigarette, Nika adds to that fog, blowing out a stream of smoke that curls and
folds in on itself before floating away. It's too windy and cold to blow O's, but she thinks the trails of smoke look almost like snakes or dragons tails, which is almost better.
It's late. Half the city is sleeping, and the /other/ half--the half that dabbles in things best
It's late. Half the city is sleeping, and the /other/ half--the half that dabbles in things best
left unseen in the cover of darkness, the half that /she/ commands-- is awake.
She's awake, waiting for the reports to come flooding back in. Resting recklessly on the ledge of the balcony, one leg hanging over the three-story drop, smoking a cigarette as she waits.
Inside,
She's awake, waiting for the reports to come flooding back in. Resting recklessly on the ledge of the balcony, one leg hanging over the three-story drop, smoking a cigarette as she waits.
Inside,
there's the faint noise of someone peacefully in her bed. A girl that Nika had taken home a few hours earlier, to fuck and show her a good time.
The fresh scratches on her back and shoulders are still painful, but the brisk air cools the sting.
It's not out of a sense of
The fresh scratches on her back and shoulders are still painful, but the brisk air cools the sting.
It's not out of a sense of
politeness or consideration that Nika has come out to the balcony-- she likes the cold. Prefers it, really, the way it turns everything sharp and clear, the way it sinks into her bones and brings her to life.
She gets it from her father, among other things.
While she waits, she
She gets it from her father, among other things.
While she waits, she
idly tries to match up the skyline tattooed on her foot to the skyline in front of her. It's not a perfect match, but it's a fun, silly game, and a reminder of where she comes from. The city that bred and raised and honed her skills to a lethal point, inked on her skin so she can
never forget where she came from.
Who she is.
She's expecting the phone call, screen lighting up the dark balcony with an electronic blue glow.
She is /not/ expecting who the caller is. Her father isn't supposed to check in on her progress for another four days, and it is
Who she is.
She's expecting the phone call, screen lighting up the dark balcony with an electronic blue glow.
She is /not/ expecting who the caller is. Her father isn't supposed to check in on her progress for another four days, and it is
dreadfully late in Japan. Or early, depending on your view. The sun must be rising there,ending another night of work.
She clicks accept, bringing the phone to her ear. "Hello, papa," she greets, swinging her leg in the open air. She's not sure what kind of call this is, so it's
She clicks accept, bringing the phone to her ear. "Hello, papa," she greets, swinging her leg in the open air. She's not sure what kind of call this is, so it's
best to be /respectful/, at least in the beginning.
Her father is not a man that is to be /disrespected/, and the only man Nika would /ever/ submit or bow to. The only man who /deserves/ power, and has earned it, in her opinion.
The only man worth listening to. The only one
Her father is not a man that is to be /disrespected/, and the only man Nika would /ever/ submit or bow to. The only man who /deserves/ power, and has earned it, in her opinion.
The only man worth listening to. The only one
worth following.
"Hello, kroshka," her father responds warmly, affection clear and obvious in his tone. There's a faint twinge of an accent there, even though they are speaking his native language, a mark of him being too far from home for too long. "I trust you are doing well?"
"Hello, kroshka," her father responds warmly, affection clear and obvious in his tone. There's a faint twinge of an accent there, even though they are speaking his native language, a mark of him being too far from home for too long. "I trust you are doing well?"
Her father has never been an overtly /kind/ man, so she soaks up every ounce of affection like it's vodka in the wintertime.
"Da," she responds, sitting up straighter on the ledge. She wobbles slightly, rights herself quickly by placing her fingertips down for a moment. "My
"Da," she responds, sitting up straighter on the ledge. She wobbles slightly, rights herself quickly by placing her fingertips down for a moment. "My
assistant has been sending you email updates. Have you seen them?"
Really, her assistant is a lifesaver. Nika has no time or patience for technology or writing reports. Keeping communication between Russia and Japan is a lengthy process, and her time is better spent overseeing
Really, her assistant is a lifesaver. Nika has no time or patience for technology or writing reports. Keeping communication between Russia and Japan is a lengthy process, and her time is better spent overseeing
this section of the Bratva.
Her father entrusted it to her, and she will /not/ fail.
"I have, but that's not what I'm calling about." There's an edge in his tone,something like /excitement/. "I have need of your services."
Oh? Her /services/-- namely assassination and torture
Her father entrusted it to her, and she will /not/ fail.
"I have, but that's not what I'm calling about." There's an edge in his tone,something like /excitement/. "I have need of your services."
Oh? Her /services/-- namely assassination and torture
as well as /strategy/-- aren't usually useful to her father in particular. He trained her himself--the /only/ one to be trained by him, his heir and the only one to pick up the /family secrets/-- and he's notoriously self-reliant.
So for him to call on her, it must be a special
So for him to call on her, it must be a special
occasion. Or something he personally doesn't want to get his hands dirty with.
Twisting to the side, she hops off the ledge of the balcony.The tile is freezing cold under her feet, but her mind is focused and alert. "What can I help you with, papochka?"
There's a pleased hum on
Twisting to the side, she hops off the ledge of the balcony.The tile is freezing cold under her feet, but her mind is focused and alert. "What can I help you with, papochka?"
There's a pleased hum on
the other side of the phone, the sound of ice clinking in a glass. Her father always drank before bed, to keep his sleep dreamless.
She’s picked up the habit from him.
“You remember what I told you about Dazai Osamu?”
Her lip automatically curls at the mention of his name.
She’s picked up the habit from him.
“You remember what I told you about Dazai Osamu?”
Her lip automatically curls at the mention of his name.
Yes, she knows /all/ about the Demon Prodigy.
An intelligent man, manipulative and cunning. A /bloody/ one, someone who bathed Yokohama in blood ever since he was younger than she is now. Elusive, well-trained, /always/ knee-deep in the flow of information running through the
An intelligent man, manipulative and cunning. A /bloody/ one, someone who bathed Yokohama in blood ever since he was younger than she is now. Elusive, well-trained, /always/ knee-deep in the flow of information running through the
underground.
A man that has been causing her family trouble for /decades/. First by driving out a fledgling Bratva outpost in Yokohama when he was younger and now...
Causing havoc for the operation her father has worked so /hard/ to develop in the last year.
The /exact/ type
A man that has been causing her family trouble for /decades/. First by driving out a fledgling Bratva outpost in Yokohama when he was younger and now...
Causing havoc for the operation her father has worked so /hard/ to develop in the last year.
The /exact/ type
she /loathes/, because all of the blood he’s shed and the pain he causes isn’t for a /purpose/. It isn’t for a /reason/, or justifiable.
He’s the kind of man who proves himself superior by /crushing/ anyone who might oppose him, and then lords over their corpses like a skeleton
He’s the kind of man who proves himself superior by /crushing/ anyone who might oppose him, and then lords over their corpses like a skeleton
king. A man who proves himself better, smarter, faster, stronger, by tearing people apart.
A man /exactly/ like the man who killed her mother.
“Yes,” she mutters, padding back inside the room. “Is he causing you trouble again?”
Her clothes are scattered across the room,
A man /exactly/ like the man who killed her mother.
“Yes,” she mutters, padding back inside the room. “Is he causing you trouble again?”
Her clothes are scattered across the room,
discarded hastily in the heat of lust. She’s pretty sure her panties are half-kicked underneath the bed, but they’re also soaked and useless, so she heads for her leather pants near the doorway.
“Actually, he’s given us an /opportunity/,” her father says, sly smile evident in
“Actually, he’s given us an /opportunity/,” her father says, sly smile evident in
his voice. “It’s come to my attention that he’s...romantically involved with the younger brother of the boss of the Port Mafia.
She pauses in tugging up her pants, phone held between her shoulder and ear.
Kouyou Ozaki, boss of the Port Mafia. Low-born, with no known connections
She pauses in tugging up her pants, phone held between her shoulder and ear.
Kouyou Ozaki, boss of the Port Mafia. Low-born, with no known connections
to the Mafia. She joined young, and climbed /quickly/, taking the throne from anyone else who may have wanted it.
Now /that/ is a woman Nika can respect and admire. Fearsome, deadly, /strong/, independent. Ruling with a manicured iron fist. /Beautiful/.
And also /very/
Now /that/ is a woman Nika can respect and admire. Fearsome, deadly, /strong/, independent. Ruling with a manicured iron fist. /Beautiful/.
And also /very/
secretive. Most information about her has been wiped clean, and it’s only been after months of digging that they found out that she had a family at /all/.
A sister, a brother and a father. Names, ages, locations unknown.
At least until /now/.
“How do you know you found the
A sister, a brother and a father. Names, ages, locations unknown.
At least until /now/.
“How do you know you found the
brother?” She asks, pulling her pants up the rest of the way and zipping them up. They cling tightly to her skin, and it takes a few wiggles of her hips for them to settle comfortably against her hips.
“I found a hacker who was /desperate/ for any information on the Azure King.
“I found a hacker who was /desperate/ for any information on the Azure King.
The best one in the country, and willing to do /anything/ to get the information I had. He’s confirmed it for me.”
She smiles. Her father has /always/ been resourceful and cunning. Using everything to his advantage to turn the tides.
Her shirt and corset are laying on the floor
She smiles. Her father has /always/ been resourceful and cunning. Using everything to his advantage to turn the tides.
Her shirt and corset are laying on the floor
near the balcony. It’s lucky she chose the one with the hooks, instead of her laced ones. They might’ve been torn off in the struggle to disrobe. “You think he knows about the Mafia and about the Demon?”
It’s /quite/ the coincidence for the younger brother to be dating the
It’s /quite/ the coincidence for the younger brother to be dating the
ex-heir of the Mafia. Almost /too/ coincidental.
“Actually,” her father huffs in amusement, breath crackling loudly over the speaker, “I don’t think he knows anything at /all/. Nothing about Dazai, at least, which leads me to believe he’s /completely/ in the dark.”
Another
“Actually,” her father huffs in amusement, breath crackling loudly over the speaker, “I don’t think he knows anything at /all/. Nothing about Dazai, at least, which leads me to believe he’s /completely/ in the dark.”
Another
smile, this one crueler and meaner than the last.
Oh, her father is /so/ good to her.
People who know nothing are her /favorite/ targets. No one really knows /nothing/, and personal information on her enemies is /always/ a boon to have.
It requires /mind games/. Psychological
Oh, her father is /so/ good to her.
People who know nothing are her /favorite/ targets. No one really knows /nothing/, and personal information on her enemies is /always/ a boon to have.
It requires /mind games/. Psychological
manipulation and torture. Asking them questions she /knows/ they can’t answer, punishing them when they can’t, and /just/ when they’re on the verge of breaking, desperate to give her what she wants—
She backs off, offers them “easy” questions. Things they don’t think twice
She backs off, offers them “easy” questions. Things they don’t think twice
about answering, because they seem so /trivial/ compared to the earlier questions.
Sitting on the bed, she starts to lace up her boots. It’s a good thing she brought her motorcycle, because she’s sure her father will want her on the next flight to Japan. “Who will be in charge
Sitting on the bed, she starts to lace up her boots. It’s a good thing she brought her motorcycle, because she’s sure her father will want her on the next flight to Japan. “Who will be in charge
while I’m gone?”
The Bratva can’t survive without /someone/ powerful in charge.
“I trust your judgement, kroshka. I will be returning to the homeland soon. I’ve been away for too long, and it’s time /you/ take the next step in your career. I’ll brief you when you get here. Do
The Bratva can’t survive without /someone/ powerful in charge.
“I trust your judgement, kroshka. I will be returning to the homeland soon. I’ve been away for too long, and it’s time /you/ take the next step in your career. I’ll brief you when you get here. Do
you have any questions?”
Thinking, she finishes lacing up her boots. They’re tall, going all the way up to her knees, and they put her firmly over the two-meter height range.
“Not yet,” she says, standing up.
“Good,” her father says, and it’s clear the conversation is over.
Thinking, she finishes lacing up her boots. They’re tall, going all the way up to her knees, and they put her firmly over the two-meter height range.
“Not yet,” she says, standing up.
“Good,” her father says, and it’s clear the conversation is over.
“I will see you soon.”
She makes an assenting noise, giving her father kisses over the phone before hanging up.
She doesn’t say goodbye to her lover as she slips out into the night. She’s got a job to do.
Nika Dostoevsky is going to Japan.
—————— +
She makes an assenting noise, giving her father kisses over the phone before hanging up.
She doesn’t say goodbye to her lover as she slips out into the night. She’s got a job to do.
Nika Dostoevsky is going to Japan.
—————— +
Ranpo has a.... a feeling. An itchy feeling that makes him feel...
Itchy.
It’s Tuesday, which one of his /least/ favorite days of the week, but he’s pretty sure that’s not the reason for his bad mood.
It /might/ be the fact that Shuuji has, apparently, taken his invitation
Itchy.
It’s Tuesday, which one of his /least/ favorite days of the week, but he’s pretty sure that’s not the reason for his bad mood.
It /might/ be the fact that Shuuji has, apparently, taken his invitation
to stay the night when he was wasted as an invitation to stay /forever/. It’s been almost three weeks since he found him in that bar, and he hasn’t left his house yet.
Normally, Ranpo /would/ kick someone out but—
He overheard the phone conversation Shuuji had with his mother
Normally, Ranpo /would/ kick someone out but—
He overheard the phone conversation Shuuji had with his mother
the morning after. He couldn’t quite catch it all, because Shuuji had locked himself in the bathroom and even pressing his ear to the door didn’t make everything clear, but Ranpo got the basic gist of it:
Shuuji was on his own for housing, because his father didn’t want him and
Shuuji was on his own for housing, because his father didn’t want him and
his mother /insisted/ that she had no where to house him because she was hopping from hotel to hotel ‘like a beggar’.
Granted, Shuuji probably might be able to beg his way back into Dazai’s good graces, but Ranpo isn’t /heartless/.
The kid is stupid, stubborn, in college, has
Granted, Shuuji probably might be able to beg his way back into Dazai’s good graces, but Ranpo isn’t /heartless/.
The kid is stupid, stubborn, in college, has
no job and no skills for a job. Even if he /could/ get a job, there’s no way he could afford an apartment on his own. It’s too late in the year to apply for the college dorms, even if his scholarship covered it.
In short, Shuuji really has nowhere else to go.
And that makes
In short, Shuuji really has nowhere else to go.
And that makes
Ranpo sympathetic because—
He’s never had /nowhere/ to go. Even after his parents passed in the accident and he was little more than a raggedy street urchin, stubbornly sleeping on park benches and breaking into cars to sleep in the back seat, he always had /somewhere/ to go.
He’s never had /nowhere/ to go. Even after his parents passed in the accident and he was little more than a raggedy street urchin, stubbornly sleeping on park benches and breaking into cars to sleep in the back seat, he always had /somewhere/ to go.
If he ever needed a bed, or a hot bowl of curry, or somewhere to lay low or someone to talk to—
He always had a place he could go to that would /always/ welcome him.
But while Oda is full of sympathy for misfortunate kids, he is /not/ sympathetic for idiot adults, so it’s not
He always had a place he could go to that would /always/ welcome him.
But while Oda is full of sympathy for misfortunate kids, he is /not/ sympathetic for idiot adults, so it’s not
like he can go /there/ either.
Besides he’s pretty sure Kouyou would skewer Shuuji if she ever found out he tried to run over her little brother, which would inevitably lead to her finding out Chuuya’s dating Dazai, which would lead to family drama of epic proportions. That
Besides he’s pretty sure Kouyou would skewer Shuuji if she ever found out he tried to run over her little brother, which would inevitably lead to her finding out Chuuya’s dating Dazai, which would lead to family drama of epic proportions. That
almost tempts him into doing it, but Shuuji would probably get his ass executed mafia-style and—
Ranpo kind of /likes/ Shuuji? He’s funny, sometimes. Like a really big, really /stupid/ puppy that doesn’t know how to play.
Except that he eats Ranpo’s candy. That, he /hates/.
Ranpo kind of /likes/ Shuuji? He’s funny, sometimes. Like a really big, really /stupid/ puppy that doesn’t know how to play.
Except that he eats Ranpo’s candy. That, he /hates/.
The last time he caught him with his hands in Ranpo’s candy jar, he kicked his ass. He thought /that/ would work except Shuuji looked dazed and like he might come in his pants so—
Ranpo’s solution is to keep his candy at /work/ now, which would be okay except there’s a /candy
Ranpo’s solution is to keep his candy at /work/ now, which would be okay except there’s a /candy
thief/ at work too.
Clues—or lack thereof— point to Fukuzawa. Which sucks, because he /respects/ Fukuzawa and he can’t be /angry/ at him for eating his candy.
So yes, Ranpo is grumpy. He’s got an intruder in his home—who is recently making noises that they should get a bigger
Clues—or lack thereof— point to Fukuzawa. Which sucks, because he /respects/ Fukuzawa and he can’t be /angry/ at him for eating his candy.
So yes, Ranpo is grumpy. He’s got an intruder in his home—who is recently making noises that they should get a bigger
apartment /together/, which is such a strange thing to contemplate, but he can't say he wouldn't /appreciate/ more room because Shuuji keeps knocking over his trinkets stand which takes an /hour/ to fix-- he's got candy disappearing before he can eat, Kunikida is on some weird
kick with cold cases lately and is trying to bug Ranpo into looking into it, and it's /Tuesday/.
He hates Tuesday's.
He /almost/ makes it through the entire day without incident, too. Manages to shake Kunikida off by sending him on a wild hunt for clues that will eventually
He hates Tuesday's.
He /almost/ makes it through the entire day without incident, too. Manages to shake Kunikida off by sending him on a wild hunt for clues that will eventually
lead him nowhere, he's been playing iMessage games with Shuuji all day and kicking his ass, and it's just--
It's /almost/ a pretty good day.
That is, of course, until /Dazai/, of all people, comes storming into the Agency with less than an hour before it closes. He damn near
It's /almost/ a pretty good day.
That is, of course, until /Dazai/, of all people, comes storming into the Agency with less than an hour before it closes. He damn near
/kicks/ the door in, storming in without so much as a hello.
Kunikida looks like he's witnessing the devil rise to earth when he looks up and sees the man he's been hunting for the past two years /storm/ into the Agency, face determined.
"Hey--!" He shouts, rising to his feet
Kunikida looks like he's witnessing the devil rise to earth when he looks up and sees the man he's been hunting for the past two years /storm/ into the Agency, face determined.
"Hey--!" He shouts, rising to his feet
and leaving the case file he was working on spread out all over his desk. "What the hell are you--?!"
Kunikida makes a mistake then, coming around his desk and reaching out for Dazai's shoulder. Probably to stop him from going any further, to hold him still so he can ask him
Kunikida makes a mistake then, coming around his desk and reaching out for Dazai's shoulder. Probably to stop him from going any further, to hold him still so he can ask him
what he's doing or maybe to try to arrest him--
His hand doesn't even get close.
In a series of movements that's almost too fast for even Ranpo to keep up with, one of Dazai's hands is flying up and wrapping around Kunikida's wrist. Using the leverage, he jerks him forward,
His hand doesn't even get close.
In a series of movements that's almost too fast for even Ranpo to keep up with, one of Dazai's hands is flying up and wrapping around Kunikida's wrist. Using the leverage, he jerks him forward,
making him stumble in shock. Then then arm closest to Kunikida is coming up--
His elbow /slams/ into his temple with brutal force, with a sharp /crack!/ that makes even Ranpo wince in sympathy.
"I'm not here for you," Dazai says, face expressionless as Kunikida goes limp.
His elbow /slams/ into his temple with brutal force, with a sharp /crack!/ that makes even Ranpo wince in sympathy.
"I'm not here for you," Dazai says, face expressionless as Kunikida goes limp.
Unconscious.
Dazai isn't exactly /careless/ but neither is he careful as he lets Kunikida drop to the floor. His head hits the wooden floor with another crack that will /probably/ keep him unconscious for a while longer.Or maybe give him a concussion.
The other employees watch
Dazai isn't exactly /careless/ but neither is he careful as he lets Kunikida drop to the floor. His head hits the wooden floor with another crack that will /probably/ keep him unconscious for a while longer.Or maybe give him a concussion.
The other employees watch
silently as Dazai advances further into the Agency. None of them dare to challenge him, because Kunikida is the second-best martial artist in the entire agency.
The /first/ is Ranpo, who is just silently watching Dazai approach with a raised eyebrow, crunching on his chips.
The /first/ is Ranpo, who is just silently watching Dazai approach with a raised eyebrow, crunching on his chips.
Dazai must mean business if he's come to the Agency. Coming here is a /risk/ for him, because he /could/ be arrested and taken into custody.
That, combined with the fact that he just /assaulted/ Kunikida--a minor offense, compared to his playbook, but still worth noting-- and
That, combined with the fact that he just /assaulted/ Kunikida--a minor offense, compared to his playbook, but still worth noting-- and
the cold, almost /dead/, expression on his face--
Something happened. Something /big/ happened.
There's a chair a few feet away from Ranpo's desk, and Dazai snags it as he passes,flipping it around so the back of it is facing Ranpo. He sinks into it in a smooth motion, propping
Something happened. Something /big/ happened.
There's a chair a few feet away from Ranpo's desk, and Dazai snags it as he passes,flipping it around so the back of it is facing Ranpo. He sinks into it in a smooth motion, propping
his elbows up on the wood along the back.
"I need your help," he says, without so much as a hello.
Ranpo /figured/,because there's only one reason Dazai would put himself on the Agency's radar like this,and that is if something happened that he couldn't solve himself.
Still,
"I need your help," he says, without so much as a hello.
Ranpo /figured/,because there's only one reason Dazai would put himself on the Agency's radar like this,and that is if something happened that he couldn't solve himself.
Still,
Ranpo /is/ grumpy, and he /doesn't/ appreciate Dazai storming into the Agency like this when he's not even an hour away from being off the clock, so--
Without saying anything, he fishes out another large chip from his bag,shoving it into his mouth and crunching slowly. His other
Without saying anything, he fishes out another large chip from his bag,shoving it into his mouth and crunching slowly. His other
hand gets flipped over, so he can glance down at his wrist.
He's not wearing a watch, but it feels like the /right/ tone of disrespectful, just to /remind/ Dazai that he isn't the king here. He doesn't get to barge in and demand help. If Ranpo helps him, it's because he's a
He's not wearing a watch, but it feels like the /right/ tone of disrespectful, just to /remind/ Dazai that he isn't the king here. He doesn't get to barge in and demand help. If Ranpo helps him, it's because he's a
/nice/ person--which he doesn't really think he is, but he has his moments.
Besides, he's already dealing with /one/ of Dazai's messes, and is he getting any thanks for that? No.
When the tension builds to a breaking point and Dazai is /clearly/ about to snap, jaw bunching and
Besides, he's already dealing with /one/ of Dazai's messes, and is he getting any thanks for that? No.
When the tension builds to a breaking point and Dazai is /clearly/ about to snap, jaw bunching and
fists clenching--
Kicking his feet up on the desk and leaning dangerously far back in his chair, Ranpo flashes him an enigmatic smile. "What can the Agency help you with?"
The Agency. Not him. He doesn't want to get involved with whatever turf war or dominance fight Dazai has
Kicking his feet up on the desk and leaning dangerously far back in his chair, Ranpo flashes him an enigmatic smile. "What can the Agency help you with?"
The Agency. Not him. He doesn't want to get involved with whatever turf war or dominance fight Dazai has
gotten himself into. He's not a part of the underground, and he will not be utilized in the unseen war that's going on.
"Chuuya's been taken."
The words drop like an anvil between them, cold and heavy with weight. It costs Dazai something to say them, momentary anguish flashing
"Chuuya's been taken."
The words drop like an anvil between them, cold and heavy with weight. It costs Dazai something to say them, momentary anguish flashing
through his eyes before they settle back into cold, unfeeling darkness.
Ranpo frowns at him. He's sure Chuuya is a nice kid and all, but it's not like Ranpo can do much without information. He's not a /psychic/. "Are you filing a missing persons report?"
He doesn't recommend
Ranpo frowns at him. He's sure Chuuya is a nice kid and all, but it's not like Ranpo can do much without information. He's not a /psychic/. "Are you filing a missing persons report?"
He doesn't recommend
it. Missing persons cases are a /wreck/ to handle, especially for adults.
Technically, a person can’t even be reported as missing until they’ve been missing for over 24 hours. Only then can they be filed, and even once the police get a report, it’s never a /top/ priority.
Technically, a person can’t even be reported as missing until they’ve been missing for over 24 hours. Only then can they be filed, and even once the police get a report, it’s never a /top/ priority.
There’s always homicides and assaults and violent crime that take a more immediate precedent. All too often, missing person cases get pushed off to the wayside.
And any good detective knows that the first 24 hours after a kidnapping or disappearance is /critical/.
“No,” Dazai
And any good detective knows that the first 24 hours after a kidnapping or disappearance is /critical/.
“No,” Dazai
mutters. He’s leaning over the edge of the chair, like he’s trying to convince Ranpo to /hurry/ with the sheer weight of his presence. “I need to use the computer genius you have holed up here. I need to get into the city CCTV.”
Ranpo arches an eyebrow. Katai /is/ pretty smart,
Ranpo arches an eyebrow. Katai /is/ pretty smart,
he will admit, even if ‘genius’ /might/ a bit of an oversell. There’s only room for /one/ genius in the Agency, and that’s /Ranpo/. “Don’t you have someone better? What happened to that one kid? The one that Kunikida has been trying to get to sell you out.”
Dazai’s hands are
Dazai’s hands are
clenching open and closed, like he’s missing the weight of a gun in them. “He’s not answering me,” he says through clenched teeth, “and when I drove out to his place, the warehouse had been emptied.”
So he /ran/. That... doesn’t spell good for anyone, really, because Rokuzou
So he /ran/. That... doesn’t spell good for anyone, really, because Rokuzou
is the type of person that should be /monitored/. Left on his own or working for strangers could end up with /all/ their information leaked.
Kunikida’s going to be pissed. He was working hard on that kid, trying to recruit him into the Agency. Trying to give him a better life.
Kunikida’s going to be pissed. He was working hard on that kid, trying to recruit him into the Agency. Trying to give him a better life.
It's possible that he pushed too hard too soon, but Rokuzou disappearing so soon before Chuuya--who was relatively unknown and protected from the underground, all things considered-- is too much of a coincidence for Ranpo to overlook it.
Still, Katai is not the solution Dazai
Still, Katai is not the solution Dazai
thinks he is. "Even if I did introduce you, he's going to be terrified of you. He's useless when he's scared, practically hides in his futon like a child hiding from a monster. Plus, he has this annoying habit where he absolutely refuses to do /anything/ without a warrant."
That is, unless his boyfriend asks him personally, but considering that Kunikida is still passed out on the floor and unlikely to go out of his way to help Dazai--
Katai's a deadend.
Ranpo takes the last handful of chips and tosses them into his mouth before crushing the bag up
Katai's a deadend.
Ranpo takes the last handful of chips and tosses them into his mouth before crushing the bag up
and tosses it into the trashcan near his desk. "Look, I am willing to help you because I don't think Chuuya should pay the price for your fuck ups. /However/, I can't help you without any information,and I don't have anyone to /get/ you information. So unless you get me something
to work with, then all you're doing is wasting time."
Time that Chuuya /doesn't/ have. The longer he's missing, the more likely it is that he'll never be found. The more likely he'll run the course of his usefulness, and be executed.
The longer he's missing, the more likely it
Time that Chuuya /doesn't/ have. The longer he's missing, the more likely it is that he'll never be found. The more likely he'll run the course of his usefulness, and be executed.
The longer he's missing, the more likely it
is they won't be finding /him/--
They'll be finding a body.
Besides, there's a /better/ organization that will be able to help Dazai, and one that has their /own/ desire to find Chuuya safe and sound.
The Port Mafia.
Dazai probably thinks they won't help him if he asks, or
They'll be finding a body.
Besides, there's a /better/ organization that will be able to help Dazai, and one that has their /own/ desire to find Chuuya safe and sound.
The Port Mafia.
Dazai probably thinks they won't help him if he asks, or
that he'll have to /force/ them to help by taking control--
Little does he know, though. Ranpo is looking forward to /that/ realization, and he honestly wishes he could be there in the room when Dazai asks Kouyou for help locating her /missing little brother/.
The best drama
Little does he know, though. Ranpo is looking forward to /that/ realization, and he honestly wishes he could be there in the room when Dazai asks Kouyou for help locating her /missing little brother/.
The best drama
always happens when Ranpo can't /watch/, it's annoying. What's the point of knowing all this information if you don't get to /witness/ the fallout?
"Fuck," Dazai mutters, slapping his palm down on the desk. One of the other employees, a conservative girl, gasps in offense at his
"Fuck," Dazai mutters, slapping his palm down on the desk. One of the other employees, a conservative girl, gasps in offense at his
language. "Fuck, /okay/, I'll-- If I get you the information you need, you'll help me find him?"
Ranpo shrugs, reaching down to pull out another bag of candy from within one of his desk drawers. "Yeah, sure. But you'll owe me, big. And I mean /big/, you don't even /know/ the
Ranpo shrugs, reaching down to pull out another bag of candy from within one of his desk drawers. "Yeah, sure. But you'll owe me, big. And I mean /big/, you don't even /know/ the
amount of trouble I've been going through because of you."
It's a testament to Dazai's desperation that he doesn't even flinch at the prospect of owing Ranpo a favor. A big one, even, that Ranpo will /surely/ collect at some point.
He just looks at him with a grim expression,
It's a testament to Dazai's desperation that he doesn't even flinch at the prospect of owing Ranpo a favor. A big one, even, that Ranpo will /surely/ collect at some point.
He just looks at him with a grim expression,
like he's preparing himself for what he has to do.Preparing to slide back into the version of himself that used to have the entire underground under his thumb and use that to get the information he needs.
Like he's letting go of Dazai Osamu and coming back for the Demon Prodigy.
Like he's letting go of Dazai Osamu and coming back for the Demon Prodigy.
Like he's willing to let go of everything he worked for, to let go of the person he's tried so hard to become--
All to get something /back/. Something so indescribably /important/ to him, he's willing to cross lines he hasn't crossed in years.
Love really does make you stupid,
All to get something /back/. Something so indescribably /important/ to him, he's willing to cross lines he hasn't crossed in years.
Love really does make you stupid,
Ranpo thinks to himself as he pulls out his phone to respond to Shuuji's latest turn on the game of Sea Battle they're playing. It really changes who you are as a person.
"Right," Dazai mutters, standing up.He's /tall/, intimidating with it, towering over everyone in the Agency.
"Right," Dazai mutters, standing up.He's /tall/, intimidating with it, towering over everyone in the Agency.
"I'll call you then."
Ranpo frowns, sending off his turn in the game. A hit, taking down the last of Shuuji's tank's health bar. Another stunning win for him.
The Agency closes in less than an hour. They've been known to stay open longer in certain circumstances, but this
Ranpo frowns, sending off his turn in the game. A hit, taking down the last of Shuuji's tank's health bar. Another stunning win for him.
The Agency closes in less than an hour. They've been known to stay open longer in certain circumstances, but this
hardly counts as one. This isn't even a case that can officially go on the books.
So if Dazai calls the /Agency/, he's bound to just get them both in trouble, and he's not going to get an actual answer from anyone.
He /might/ have Ranpo's personal number, but Ranpo isn't
So if Dazai calls the /Agency/, he's bound to just get them both in trouble, and he's not going to get an actual answer from anyone.
He /might/ have Ranpo's personal number, but Ranpo isn't
willing to just /put it out there/ that they plan on working together by just asking out loud. Dazai's already halfway to the door, bypassing Kunikida's passed out body without so much as a wince in sympathy.
Eh, he'll figure it out. The man is resourceful, and if he's /really/
Eh, he'll figure it out. The man is resourceful, and if he's /really/
so set on getting Ranpo's help--something he might change his mind about when he confronts Kouyou and realizes she's /just/ as invested in finding Chuuya-- then he'll find a way.
The front doors to the Agency close behind Dazai with a resounding, final sound. Harsh and loud.
The front doors to the Agency close behind Dazai with a resounding, final sound. Harsh and loud.
The other employees finally let out their breaths when he's gone, relaxing. Unfortunately, people barging into the Agency like this /is/ a somewhat common occurrence, so no one is too broken up or stressed about what happened.
Just a slightly-irregular Tuesday in the Agency.
Just a slightly-irregular Tuesday in the Agency.
Eventually Kunikida stirs on the floor, heaving himself up onto his elbows. With a wince, he touches his temple. "What happened?"
Ranpo peers over his desk at him, fighting a smile. "Oh, not much. Just missed your chance catching one of Japan's most wanted, that's all."
Ranpo peers over his desk at him, fighting a smile. "Oh, not much. Just missed your chance catching one of Japan's most wanted, that's all."
His mouth /drops/. "What-- why didn't /you/ do anything? You watched him knock me out and just did /nothing/?"
"Well," Ranpo drawls, unwrapping another piece of candy, "something like /that/ requires a lot of paperwork, and /I/ have plans for dinner tonight. Better luck next
"Well," Ranpo drawls, unwrapping another piece of candy, "something like /that/ requires a lot of paperwork, and /I/ have plans for dinner tonight. Better luck next
time, buddy."
Kunikida /screams/ in frustration.
Ranpo snickers, attention diverted when Shuuji sends /another/ invite to a game of Sea Battle.
He must really enjoy getting his ass kicked, Ranpo thinks, and sends off the opening shots.
------- +
Kunikida /screams/ in frustration.
Ranpo snickers, attention diverted when Shuuji sends /another/ invite to a game of Sea Battle.
He must really enjoy getting his ass kicked, Ranpo thinks, and sends off the opening shots.
------- +
Backsliding into something—/someone/— you used to be is like coming home. Giving up against the rising tides and finally just letting yourself sink.
The problem is, you never truly realize how much /better/ you’ve gotten until you throw that all away and return to where you
The problem is, you never truly realize how much /better/ you’ve gotten until you throw that all away and return to where you
started from.
Looking at the high, soaring tower of Mori Corporation, Dazai feels completely and utterly numb. A /terrible/ sort of numb, one that feels inherently /wrong/. A numbness that leeches into every part of his being, and slowly claims every part of him for its own.
Looking at the high, soaring tower of Mori Corporation, Dazai feels completely and utterly numb. A /terrible/ sort of numb, one that feels inherently /wrong/. A numbness that leeches into every part of his being, and slowly claims every part of him for its own.
In these moments, Dazai doesn’t feel like a person. He doesn’t even feel like a child.
He’s cold and unfeeling, distant from his body, a machine that runs on oxygen and delivers bloody violence. A war machine, carefully built and cultivated by Mori Ougai, with all the things he
He’s cold and unfeeling, distant from his body, a machine that runs on oxygen and delivers bloody violence. A war machine, carefully built and cultivated by Mori Ougai, with all the things he
enjoyed or wanted being held against him.
Being numb was just a defensive reaction, but once Dazai realized how /good/ it felt just to feel nothing at /all/—
It was impossible to stop. Pain and sorrow were just things he had to painstakingly cut out of himself, a surgeon with
Being numb was just a defensive reaction, but once Dazai realized how /good/ it felt just to feel nothing at /all/—
It was impossible to stop. Pain and sorrow were just things he had to painstakingly cut out of himself, a surgeon with
his own blood on his hands.
Beyond that, distantly, is anxiety. A driving heartbeat buried too deep in his chest to be his own heart, the driving force that urges him up the front steps and into the building.
He /will/ do what must be done. Whether that means toppling the
Beyond that, distantly, is anxiety. A driving heartbeat buried too deep in his chest to be his own heart, the driving force that urges him up the front steps and into the building.
He /will/ do what must be done. Whether that means toppling the
power structure of the Mafia, claiming what had always been /his/— not by birthright, but by /blood/, the seat of this empire built with the iron of his body—, killing anyone who stood in his way—
It doesn’t matter. He’s always been able to do what needed to be done, no matter
It doesn’t matter. He’s always been able to do what needed to be done, no matter
what the personal cost. The cost to himself was always negligible.
He doesn’t take the elevator. That would be foolish because it would give him away. There were cameras in the elevator, and he’s sure /someone/ is watching the feed.
Instead, he takes the stairs that empty out
He doesn’t take the elevator. That would be foolish because it would give him away. There were cameras in the elevator, and he’s sure /someone/ is watching the feed.
Instead, he takes the stairs that empty out
into the lobby. Every building with more than a single story is required by safety regulations to have stairs that connect to every floor. The larger buildings have two sets of emergency stairs, one on each side of the building.
Mori Corporation is unique in that it has /three/
Mori Corporation is unique in that it has /three/
stairs. Two that are regulation standard, and /one/ that leads up to the highest floors.
The last one isn’t known by most of the legal employees— because Mori Corporation /does/ have a legal operation as a cover— and only a handful of the Mafia members know about it either.
The last one isn’t known by most of the legal employees— because Mori Corporation /does/ have a legal operation as a cover— and only a handful of the Mafia members know about it either.
It’s supposed to be a closely kept secret, an escape route known to only the highest members of the Mafia.
Being who he is, Dazai knows all about it.
He bounds up the first set of stairs, ignoring the handful of employees still lingering in the building. It’s getting dark by
Being who he is, Dazai knows all about it.
He bounds up the first set of stairs, ignoring the handful of employees still lingering in the building. It’s getting dark by
now, and most of the legal employees are starting to head out for the night. They look at him oddly as he passes, whispering in his wake, but don’t try to stop him.
The Mafia won’t be in full operation for another hour yet. But the /boss/ should be here, preparing for the night,
The Mafia won’t be in full operation for another hour yet. But the /boss/ should be here, preparing for the night,
and that’s all he needs right now.
Hé bounds up the first set of stairs, ignoring the burn in his thighs and lungs as he ascends high into the building.
He didn’t bring any of his weapons. Very purposefully, a last-ditch effort to avoid violence until the last possible
Hé bounds up the first set of stairs, ignoring the burn in his thighs and lungs as he ascends high into the building.
He didn’t bring any of his weapons. Very purposefully, a last-ditch effort to avoid violence until the last possible
moment. A way to make sure that the only weapons he used belonged to someone else today.
He'd pulled on gloves before leaving his car parked a few streets down in a parking lot. Skin-tight latex, to make sure he doesn't leave fingerprints behind.
Just in case.
At the top of
He'd pulled on gloves before leaving his car parked a few streets down in a parking lot. Skin-tight latex, to make sure he doesn't leave fingerprints behind.
Just in case.
At the top of
the stairs, he has to cross the building and find a hidden doorway tucked into a small, obscure hallway. There's no guards here at the bottom, but he's sure there will be some at the top.
It's only four floors up to the penthouse floor, and he takes /these/ stairs slower. Ears
It's only four floors up to the penthouse floor, and he takes /these/ stairs slower. Ears
perked, alert for any movement or noise. His steps echo loudly in the stairwell, heavy boots eliminating any chance for a silent entrance.
Silent isn't what he's going for anyway.
He takes a deep, steadying breath at the top, collecting himself. His focus is razor-sharp,
Silent isn't what he's going for anyway.
He takes a deep, steadying breath at the top, collecting himself. His focus is razor-sharp,
the deadliest weapon he has in his arsenal. A weapon that had been shaped and honed for years.
Pausing just before the door at the top, he listens for movement outside. It's twilight hours, essentially dawn for the Mafia, so he's not surprised when he doesn't hear much beyond
Pausing just before the door at the top, he listens for movement outside. It's twilight hours, essentially dawn for the Mafia, so he's not surprised when he doesn't hear much beyond
the door. He's picked the perfect time, before most of the people who /would/ defy him have arrived--
Civilly, he opens the door. It's unlocked, a bad decision for them.
He's calm enough that the lone guard standing outside the door just looks at him for a moment, not
Civilly, he opens the door. It's unlocked, a bad decision for them.
He's calm enough that the lone guard standing outside the door just looks at him for a moment, not
recognizing him for who he is or the threat he represents.
When he does finally move, thirty seconds after Dazai opened the door--
It's too late.
Whip-fast, Dazai snakes his hand toward his lower back, sliding under the guard's loose shirt and yanking out the gun tucked into
When he does finally move, thirty seconds after Dazai opened the door--
It's too late.
Whip-fast, Dazai snakes his hand toward his lower back, sliding under the guard's loose shirt and yanking out the gun tucked into
the waistband of his jeans.
He starts to shout, jerking forward to try to grab him by the forearm.
With a flick of his wrist, the gun is flipped around in his hand. He holds the barrel, raising it up and slamming the butt of it into the back of the guard's head with all of
He starts to shout, jerking forward to try to grab him by the forearm.
With a flick of his wrist, the gun is flipped around in his hand. He holds the barrel, raising it up and slamming the butt of it into the back of the guard's head with all of
his strength.
He reels, dazed, eyes squeezing shut and a stuttered grunt leaving his mouth. Shaking his head, he tries to stumble backwards,giving himself room to try to recover--
Dazai follows, hitting him again in the same spot, and watching with satisfaction as he goes limp.
He reels, dazed, eyes squeezing shut and a stuttered grunt leaving his mouth. Shaking his head, he tries to stumble backwards,giving himself room to try to recover--
Dazai follows, hitting him again in the same spot, and watching with satisfaction as he goes limp.
The guards for this place have really gone downhill in quality. Mori would've /never/ let someone so unskilled and unalert stay in his guard rotation.
He doesn't bother to hide the body. He just lets the guard slump to the floor and steps over him.
The Boss's personal quarters
He doesn't bother to hide the body. He just lets the guard slump to the floor and steps over him.
The Boss's personal quarters
are in the far part of the floor, but there's a few rooms Dazai can check before he goes there.
The hallways are mostly empty as he stalks through, and the people that /do/ see him fall back when they see him, survival instincts flaring. They know when a more dangerous predator
The hallways are mostly empty as he stalks through, and the people that /do/ see him fall back when they see him, survival instincts flaring. They know when a more dangerous predator
is hunting, and they know when to stay out of the way.
He finds his target in the third room he checks, a conference room. He can tell it's been used much lately, because of the stacks of papers scattered on the table.
Sloppy, leaving information where it could be found.
He finds his target in the third room he checks, a conference room. He can tell it's been used much lately, because of the stacks of papers scattered on the table.
Sloppy, leaving information where it could be found.
And there, near the back of the room, is Kouyou Ozaki, boss of the Port Mafia. She's attended by Odasaku, like always, and it looks like she's having a /meeting/, because Ace, one of the executives if Dazai remembers correctly, is leaning back in a nearby chair.
They both look
They both look
irritated, frustrated at something or another. There's another stack of papers between them, and it almost looks like they're arguing over them.
Well, it's a good thing that Dazai's coming in with a /distraction/ then.
This time, he kicks the door in. His boots make a
Well, it's a good thing that Dazai's coming in with a /distraction/ then.
This time, he kicks the door in. His boots make a
satisfying /thud/ against the wood before it crashes in with a /crunch/ of snapping wood and metal.
All three people at the table jump, whirling around in their seats as he strolls in,offering them a sardonic smile.
Kouyou goes pale when she recognizes him, and Oda's expression
All three people at the table jump, whirling around in their seats as he strolls in,offering them a sardonic smile.
Kouyou goes pale when she recognizes him, and Oda's expression
goes stormy. His hands are crossed over his chest, fingers twitching closer to the holsters under each arm.
"No need to stand up for me," Dazai starts, flashing a sharp smile. The stolen gun is still in his hand and he spins it around in his palm threateningly.
While Oda has
"No need to stand up for me," Dazai starts, flashing a sharp smile. The stolen gun is still in his hand and he spins it around in his palm threateningly.
While Oda has
arguably had more training than him, and more practice--
Dazai has /always/ been the sharpshooter of the two, coldly lethal and deadly accurate. He learned to shoot a gun before he learned how to drive, before he even learned how to ride a bike or ride the train for himself.
Dazai has /always/ been the sharpshooter of the two, coldly lethal and deadly accurate. He learned to shoot a gun before he learned how to drive, before he even learned how to ride a bike or ride the train for himself.
The grip of the gun--while a fraction too small for his hands, obviously a generic version without any customization- feels like coming home again, to a house he never wanted to begin with.
"What are you doing here?" Kouyou's voice is flat, toneless. Her expression is /forcibly/
"What are you doing here?" Kouyou's voice is flat, toneless. Her expression is /forcibly/
blank, like she's fighting off the urge to react. Trying to save face in front of her enemy.
Dazai's smile is /mean/, cutting. "It's time we do business, Boss of the Port Mafia," he says, snide and sneering, sarcasm thick on her title. He doesn't need to /speak/ the words to get
Dazai's smile is /mean/, cutting. "It's time we do business, Boss of the Port Mafia," he says, snide and sneering, sarcasm thick on her title. He doesn't need to /speak/ the words to get
his disdain across.
Meanwhile, Ace, looks like he's having the time of his life, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded behind his back and grinning. He's always been /smug/, always too aware and too invested in the power struggles of the Boss chair.
Kouyou's eyes
Meanwhile, Ace, looks like he's having the time of his life, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded behind his back and grinning. He's always been /smug/, always too aware and too invested in the power struggles of the Boss chair.
Kouyou's eyes
narrow on him, folding her hands primly in front of her. Her spine is ramrod-straight, like she can /prove/ her worth by refusing to bend. "Why would I do business with you? Not only did you refuse my /last/ offer-- now you come barging in like you own the place."
Dazai's grin
Dazai's grin
grows. Technically, he /does/ own the building. Not officially, not legally, but it was always meant to be /his/. Mori destroyed more than a few families to ensure that.
"Because," he says, and he can /tell/ she thinks he's about to threaten her. Point the gun at her hand and
"Because," he says, and he can /tell/ she thinks he's about to threaten her. Point the gun at her hand and
tell her that she has to give into his demands or he'll end her right then and there.
Dazai's not /that/ foolish. He's got a /better/ plan:
He settles the gun correctly in his palm, raising it up and slightly to the left--
Directly at Oda's head.
"If you don't," his tone is
Dazai's not /that/ foolish. He's got a /better/ plan:
He settles the gun correctly in his palm, raising it up and slightly to the left--
Directly at Oda's head.
"If you don't," his tone is
still casually conversational, with just a hint of derision, "I'm going to take something very important to you."
It's not an idle threat. He /loves/ Odasaku but--
Everything he loves will inevitably be lost, right? And if he does not do /something/, if he doesn't get
It's not an idle threat. He /loves/ Odasaku but--
Everything he loves will inevitably be lost, right? And if he does not do /something/, if he doesn't get
what he /needs/, then he'll lose the most /important/ thing to him. And for /once/ in his life, he is willing to /fight/ for what he wants, what he loves.
He will do anything.
It's a calculated risk, a gamble. He's staked the odds in his favor-- Kouyou loves Odasaku, he doubts
He will do anything.
It's a calculated risk, a gamble. He's staked the odds in his favor-- Kouyou loves Odasaku, he doubts
she would let anything happen to him if she could stop it-- but sometimes, you just have to spin the wheel and /hope/.
There's a moment of tense silence. Odasaku is stock still, unmoving as always in the face of danger. His eyes are focused on the gun in Dazai's hand, mouth
There's a moment of tense silence. Odasaku is stock still, unmoving as always in the face of danger. His eyes are focused on the gun in Dazai's hand, mouth
tight and turned down into a frown.
He doesn't move. In fact, he's probably /relieved/ that the gun isn't pointed at Kouyou.
With a drum of her acrylic nails on the table, Kouyou calls his bluff, "You wouldn't dare. Sakunosuke is your friend too."
"I wouldn't?" Dazai repeats,
He doesn't move. In fact, he's probably /relieved/ that the gun isn't pointed at Kouyou.
With a drum of her acrylic nails on the table, Kouyou calls his bluff, "You wouldn't dare. Sakunosuke is your friend too."
"I wouldn't?" Dazai repeats,
smile growing so big it makes him feel nauseous. His hand does not waver and his eyes do not leave hers as he pulls the trigger.
/BANG!/
Odasaku /shouts/, ducking, and a bullet buries itself in the wall barely a foot from where his head had been.
Kouyou flinches, going even
/BANG!/
Odasaku /shouts/, ducking, and a bullet buries itself in the wall barely a foot from where his head had been.
Kouyou flinches, going even
paler. There are splinters of wood and dust sticking to her pant suit.
"It would be /unwise/ to underestimate me right now," Dazai tells her, re-aiming the gun as he strolls around the side of the table. His boots make him almost /two/ inches taller, so he's the tallest person
"It would be /unwise/ to underestimate me right now," Dazai tells her, re-aiming the gun as he strolls around the side of the table. His boots make him almost /two/ inches taller, so he's the tallest person
in the room by far. Oda might be /broader/, but that fact is negligible when he's towering over them all and holding a gun to his head. "I have lost something /very/ important to me, and if you won't help me, I'm going to kill him, then Ace and then /you/. Do you understand?"
Violence and blood, it's--
It's not a second skin. It's not a mask Dazai can hide underneath, it's not something that can ever be taken off or put away when he no longer has need or want for it.
Some people, when put through years of trauma and hurt and anger, retreat. They
It's not a second skin. It's not a mask Dazai can hide underneath, it's not something that can ever be taken off or put away when he no longer has need or want for it.
Some people, when put through years of trauma and hurt and anger, retreat. They
hide, become jittery, anxious messes, always looking for the knife behind a smile. Always on the edge of /running/.
And some people people choose /fight/ instead of flight. They absorb all that pain and rage, internalize it. They learn by example and when things get /hard/?
And some people people choose /fight/ instead of flight. They absorb all that pain and rage, internalize it. They learn by example and when things get /hard/?
They /bite/.
Dazai is biting now. The defensive, instinctive /rage/ boiling up within him,demanding he hurt before /he/ is hurt,demanding he take control of this entire situation.
If he has to, he will take back what was originally his, by force. It won't be the first boss he's
Dazai is biting now. The defensive, instinctive /rage/ boiling up within him,demanding he hurt before /he/ is hurt,demanding he take control of this entire situation.
If he has to, he will take back what was originally his, by force. It won't be the first boss he's
killed on this floor, won't be the first blood of a friend that he has spilled.
Kouyou's lips press together, and her eyes are /hard/. Anyone can tell that she /doesn't/ want to give into him, that she'd /much/ rather tell him to /get lost/.
But she doesn't have that option.
Kouyou's lips press together, and her eyes are /hard/. Anyone can tell that she /doesn't/ want to give into him, that she'd /much/ rather tell him to /get lost/.
But she doesn't have that option.
"Fine," she bites out, expression twisting like even the idea of helping him is /horrible/. "What do you need?"
Relief, a tiny drop of dry land among the black raging tides, reigns briefly. "My boyfriend was kidnapped, I need the CCTV for the entire city and any recent movements
Relief, a tiny drop of dry land among the black raging tides, reigns briefly. "My boyfriend was kidnapped, I need the CCTV for the entire city and any recent movements
from the Rat's."
The information seems to /dumbfound/ Kouyou, because she just blinks at him. "You're... dating someone?"
(Oda is /rapidly/ coming to a realization, eyes widening as the pieces /finally/ come together.)
The question /hurts/, because the answer is /technically/
The information seems to /dumbfound/ Kouyou, because she just blinks at him. "You're... dating someone?"
(Oda is /rapidly/ coming to a realization, eyes widening as the pieces /finally/ come together.)
The question /hurts/, because the answer is /technically/
no, but he's not going to get into /that/ conversation. It's none of her business.
He nods shortly, kicking Ace out of his seat and ushering him out the door. He doesn't need to be here for this.
"What's his name? And what does he look like?"
"Name is Nakahara Chuuya and--"
He nods shortly, kicking Ace out of his seat and ushering him out the door. He doesn't need to be here for this.
"What's his name? And what does he look like?"
"Name is Nakahara Chuuya and--"
The tension in the room skyrockets so quickly that the hairs on the back of Dazai's neck stand up.
"His name is fucking /what now/?" Kouyou's voice is /pure/ disbelief.
Dazai frowns, locking the door and turning back around to them.
Kouyou is leaning forward in her seat, palms
"His name is fucking /what now/?" Kouyou's voice is /pure/ disbelief.
Dazai frowns, locking the door and turning back around to them.
Kouyou is leaning forward in her seat, palms
flat on the table. She's /glaring/ now.
Behind her, Oda is making a /face/ and gesturing with his hands near his neck, the silent and universal sign for 'please shut up right now'.
Dazai pauses, feeling like he stumbled upon /something/ he wasn't expecting. "Nakahara Chuuya?"
Behind her, Oda is making a /face/ and gesturing with his hands near his neck, the silent and universal sign for 'please shut up right now'.
Dazai pauses, feeling like he stumbled upon /something/ he wasn't expecting. "Nakahara Chuuya?"
Kouyou just.... /stares/ at him, her face growing redder and redder. "If this is a /joke/," she seethes, "it /isn't/ funny."
That sends Dazai reeling, confused, because--
"Why the fuck would I /joke/ about my boyfriend being /kidnapped/?"
(Love makes you /stupid/, Ranpo once
That sends Dazai reeling, confused, because--
"Why the fuck would I /joke/ about my boyfriend being /kidnapped/?"
(Love makes you /stupid/, Ranpo once
again thinks to himself, /very/ reluctantly sharing his dessert with Shuuji, and /knowing/ that the drama he's been cultivating for /months/ is going down and he can't /watch it/.)
The silent, /awkward/ tension grows.
When Kouyou finally speaks, the mask of civility masks her
The silent, /awkward/ tension grows.
When Kouyou finally speaks, the mask of civility masks her
expressions, at first. "So you mean to tell me that not only are you dating my /little brother/--," her hands /slam/ down on the table then, and she's surging to her feet, voice climbing to a furious /yell/, "and you /LOST HIM/?!"
Her what?
Dazai stares at her, looks back at
Her what?
Dazai stares at her, looks back at
Oda--is he /recording/ this?-- then back at Kouyou.
And in all his terrifying, near-legendary intelligence, his only response is:
"What?"
Kouyou /lunges/ at him, and she nearly gets entirely across the table before Oda tosses his phone down and catches her with arms around her
And in all his terrifying, near-legendary intelligence, his only response is:
"What?"
Kouyou /lunges/ at him, and she nearly gets entirely across the table before Oda tosses his phone down and catches her with arms around her
waist.
It finally clicks in Dazai's mind, all the pieces coming together. Oh, Kouyou is his /sister/. His /ane-san/.
In his defense, /how/ was he supposed to know? He never mentioned her by name, and both of their records were scrubbed clean and had different names. Kouyou has
It finally clicks in Dazai's mind, all the pieces coming together. Oh, Kouyou is his /sister/. His /ane-san/.
In his defense, /how/ was he supposed to know? He never mentioned her by name, and both of their records were scrubbed clean and had different names. Kouyou has
been avoiding meeting with him and his calls for /months/, and Oda's, well, /forgetful/ sometimes, so--
How was /he/ supposed to know?
Awkwardly, Dazai scratches the back of his head. "He's gonna be pissed, I'm pretty sure he wanted to break the news himself..."
Of /all/ the
How was /he/ supposed to know?
Awkwardly, Dazai scratches the back of his head. "He's gonna be pissed, I'm pretty sure he wanted to break the news himself..."
Of /all/ the
reactions he /could/ have, after the /hellish/ day he's had, that's the first one that comes to mind.
Well, that and--
"Surprise?"
Kouyou doesn't look like she /likes/ surprises, clawing at the air like she's envisioning his /face/. Her face is /red/, and she's making noises
Well, that and--
"Surprise?"
Kouyou doesn't look like she /likes/ surprises, clawing at the air like she's envisioning his /face/. Her face is /red/, and she's making noises
about 'corrupting' and 'my innocent /brother/' and 'scoundrel motherfucker', and really it's all very dramatic but--
Dazai checks his phone. "Can you get over it already? I'm happy to let you yell at me /later/, but he's about to miss a dose of his meds and we need to find him
Dazai checks his phone. "Can you get over it already? I'm happy to let you yell at me /later/, but he's about to miss a dose of his meds and we need to find him
/soon/ because he can't miss /two/."
Kouyou pauses, the fight leaving her momentarily. "Meds for /what/?"
And--
Dazai, /assuming/ that Kouyou knows about Chuuya's hospital visit because his father knows and it's family common knowledge, casually answers, "His encephalitis."
Kouyou pauses, the fight leaving her momentarily. "Meds for /what/?"
And--
Dazai, /assuming/ that Kouyou knows about Chuuya's hospital visit because his father knows and it's family common knowledge, casually answers, "His encephalitis."
Kouyou's mouth /drops/, and Dazai doesn't understand why she looks so /appalled/ until--
"You gave my brother /AN STD?!?/" She /roars/, struggling beginning anew.
Even Oda looks a bit shocked, looking over her shoulder at Dazai like he's an idiot.
"I--," Dazai sighs, pinching
"You gave my brother /AN STD?!?/" She /roars/, struggling beginning anew.
Even Oda looks a bit shocked, looking over her shoulder at Dazai like he's an idiot.
"I--," Dazai sighs, pinching
the bridge of his nose. He can't exactly fault Kouyou for thinking that, because he thought that too at first. "It's not an /STD/, it's a brain thing. Means his brain is swelling, and he needs meds to keep it under control."
Kouyou thinks about that for a second, narrowing her
Kouyou thinks about that for a second, narrowing her
eyes like she suspects he's lying.
Isn't she in a polyamorous relationship with Yosano, a certified /emergency surgeon/? Shouldn't she be brushed up on her latin language roots or something?
"What the fuck happened to his brain? He was /fine/ two months ago!"
Actually, he was
Isn't she in a polyamorous relationship with Yosano, a certified /emergency surgeon/? Shouldn't she be brushed up on her latin language roots or something?
"What the fuck happened to his brain? He was /fine/ two months ago!"
Actually, he was
messing around with /Shuuji/ at that time, which they can all probably agree that wasn't for the /best/, but she doesn't need to know that.
"Doctor said it was probably a virus," Dazai says, shrugging, "but that's not important right now. Are you going to help me find him or
"Doctor said it was probably a virus," Dazai says, shrugging, "but that's not important right now. Are you going to help me find him or
not?"
Obviously, her only answer can be /yes/.
With a huff, she shakes Oda off, righting her pink pantsuit until it's pristine again. She's chosen /modern/ businesswoman today, which is ironic considering the traditional views of the Mafia.
(Meanwhile, Oda picks his phone up
Obviously, her only answer can be /yes/.
With a huff, she shakes Oda off, righting her pink pantsuit until it's pristine again. She's chosen /modern/ businesswoman today, which is ironic considering the traditional views of the Mafia.
(Meanwhile, Oda picks his phone up
and stops the recording.
He opens his messaging app.
[ ODA ]: You fucker
[ Candy Man ]: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO VID???? GIVE IT TO ME.)
"Yes," she huffs, pulling out her own phone. Probably to get in contact with the part of the Mafia that handles technology like this. "But if we
He opens his messaging app.
[ ODA ]: You fucker
[ Candy Man ]: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO VID???? GIVE IT TO ME.)
"Yes," she huffs, pulling out her own phone. Probably to get in contact with the part of the Mafia that handles technology like this. "But if we
find him and he's /hurt/,I'm going to /kill/ you."
Dazai considers that.Then his teeth flash in a lethal smile,putting his hands on the table and leaning forward. His eyes are flat black,menacing."If he's hurt, you will have to find me in the /graveyard/ I make of this city."
+
Dazai considers that.Then his teeth flash in a lethal smile,putting his hands on the table and leaning forward. His eyes are flat black,menacing."If he's hurt, you will have to find me in the /graveyard/ I make of this city."
+
************ TW mentions of torture via waterboarding + psychological torture, medical trauma, etc **********
The scene ahead will not be HORRIBLY graphic with the torture, but it will be upsetting to those who are sensitive. Skip if needed, there will be a summary at the end <3
The scene ahead will not be HORRIBLY graphic with the torture, but it will be upsetting to those who are sensitive. Skip if needed, there will be a summary at the end <3
Most people say that drowning is peaceful. That, once you get over the initial pain and fear, it's exactly like sinking. Floating away into the endless darkness, as easy as falling asleep. As easy as letting go, the rope of your life slipping away from your hands, drifting away.
In Chuuya's experience, drowning is none of those things.
It's /horrible/. It's all raw, animalistic fear, I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't /breathe/.The /person/ that he is overtaken by the /instincts/ of his body, instincts that fight and fight and /fight/, no reason,
It's /horrible/. It's all raw, animalistic fear, I can't breathe, I can't breathe, I can't /breathe/.The /person/ that he is overtaken by the /instincts/ of his body, instincts that fight and fight and /fight/, no reason,
no thought, no /logic/. Just pure terror-fueled adrenaline, pooling in his body with nowhere to go, filling him with the need to get /away/--
But he's trapped.
It also /hurts/. His lungs /burn/, water choking him and searing a painful path down his sinuses and into his lungs.
But he's trapped.
It also /hurts/. His lungs /burn/, water choking him and searing a painful path down his sinuses and into his lungs.
If anything, drowning on dry land is the /opposite/ of peaceful. It fucking /sucks/.
Maybe that's because he's not /allowed/ to drown. Every time he gets close and his body starts to run out of oxygen and the fight drains out of him--
His head is tipped forward, so the wet
Maybe that's because he's not /allowed/ to drown. Every time he gets close and his body starts to run out of oxygen and the fight drains out of him--
His head is tipped forward, so the wet
cloth sticking to his face and blocking his airways falls. Then he's left to choke and spit and sputter and desperately try to gather himself for the /next/ round.
There's always a next round.
The bag is so /wet/, but Chuuya can't even gather up the strength to be disgusted.
There's always a next round.
The bag is so /wet/, but Chuuya can't even gather up the strength to be disgusted.
Whatever liquid the girl is pouring down on his fact smells and /tastes/ foul, like it's sea water scooped directly out of the port bay, full of bacteria and disgusting.
Chuuya's face is wet with water and snot and water-vomit, and it's just--
It's fucking awful.
The rest of
Chuuya's face is wet with water and snot and water-vomit, and it's just--
It's fucking awful.
The rest of
his body is wet too, clothes soaked and sticking to him terribly. The cold of the room is beginning to sink in, coating his bones in frostbite, and he's almost too exhausted to shiver.
He doesn't know how long it's been. Hours? Days?
All he knows is pitch-black, freezing
He doesn't know how long it's been. Hours? Days?
All he knows is pitch-black, freezing
darkness, and wet-burning.
"You know," the girl says, dragging over another bucket of water. Just the scraping sound of metal dragging over concrete is enough to have an exhausted spike of fear running through him.
She's doing it on purpose. She can lift the bucket over his
"You know," the girl says, dragging over another bucket of water. Just the scraping sound of metal dragging over concrete is enough to have an exhausted spike of fear running through him.
She's doing it on purpose. She can lift the bucket over his
head with barely even a grunt of exertion, so the fact that she's just /dragging/ the bucket slowly over the concrete is just another fear tactic.
It's working. His breath is already deepening, coming in wet-ragged gasps, trying to stock up on oxygen even though he knows it
It's working. His breath is already deepening, coming in wet-ragged gasps, trying to stock up on oxygen even though he knows it
doesn't work that way.
"I can keep this up all day. Forever. No breaks, no end. You will wish you won't survive, but you will," the girl continues, sickly sweet. It's a threat, meant to terrify Chuuya into compliance.
On one hand, it /works/. On the other--
He laughs.
"I can keep this up all day. Forever. No breaks, no end. You will wish you won't survive, but you will," the girl continues, sickly sweet. It's a threat, meant to terrify Chuuya into compliance.
On one hand, it /works/. On the other--
He laughs.
Wet, painful, rasping heaves, something that sounds more like sobbing than it does like laughing. Hysterical.
It's not /loyalty/ that keeps his mouth shut. It's simple lack of answers. He can't actually give her what she wants, he's tried. His answers aren't good enough, and by
It's not /loyalty/ that keeps his mouth shut. It's simple lack of answers. He can't actually give her what she wants, he's tried. His answers aren't good enough, and by
now, he would consider himself /broken/.
He'd do anything to keep his head out of the water now. Just the /thought/ of water makes his sanity strain, terror threatening to snap him into pieces.
That's not why he's laughing.
No, he's laughing because he /knows/, with a morbid,
He'd do anything to keep his head out of the water now. Just the /thought/ of water makes his sanity strain, terror threatening to snap him into pieces.
That's not why he's laughing.
No, he's laughing because he /knows/, with a morbid,
dreadful certainty that he cannot survive this for much longer. It's not /giving in/ that makes him feel that way, it's just pure /facts/.
By now, he's surely missed at least one dose of his medicine. Maybe two, or even /three/, depending on how long it's been.
Time doesn't
By now, he's surely missed at least one dose of his medicine. Maybe two, or even /three/, depending on how long it's been.
Time doesn't
have a meaning in this place, not anymore. His world is reduced to how many /breaths/ he can take.
Every time water is poured down on his face and he begins to horrific process of drowning on dry land--
He can feel the pressure in his head building.He has a /throbbing/ headache
Every time water is poured down on his face and he begins to horrific process of drowning on dry land--
He can feel the pressure in his head building.He has a /throbbing/ headache
now, fueled by lack of oxygen and his missed meds and the blunt trauma of being knocked out. His eyes feel like they pulse painfully with every beat of his heart, head feeling so /heavy/.
More than that, he can almost /feel/ a seizure beginning to gather in the background. It's
More than that, he can almost /feel/ a seizure beginning to gather in the background. It's
like an electrical storm, unseen but /felt/, static charges gathering in his body and building momentum. A metallic taste on the back of his tongue that has nothing to do with water or blood or fear. The overload of sensation in his body, the feeling of his mind beginning to
buckle and strain, stretching too thin and holding far too much.
Distantly, he wonders how long it'll take him to seize himself to death. How long it'll take for his brain to give in once the damage begins.
If it'll hurt as his brain swells and swells, crushing itself under
Distantly, he wonders how long it'll take him to seize himself to death. How long it'll take for his brain to give in once the damage begins.
If it'll hurt as his brain swells and swells, crushing itself under
it's own pressure. If it'll hurt /more/ than drowning.
How long it'll take before the damage is too much to recover from. How long it'll be before /Chuuya/ will never be something that lives again, even if his body survives.
"No, I really won't," he wheezes, wishing he could
How long it'll take before the damage is too much to recover from. How long it'll be before /Chuuya/ will never be something that lives again, even if his body survives.
"No, I really won't," he wheezes, wishing he could
wipe the snot off his face, because it feels fucking /disgusting/.
Because these people, they forgot to include one little detail in their plans when they kidnapped him:
He's on a limited time frame. It's only a matter of time before his sickness kicks in and takes him away.
Because these people, they forgot to include one little detail in their plans when they kidnapped him:
He's on a limited time frame. It's only a matter of time before his sickness kicks in and takes him away.
He doesn't face the idea of weeks or even months of torture. He doesn't need to hold out until he's rescued or something else like that.
He just needs to wait until his body devours itself whole, and leaves him burning down the path of no recovery.
It's not a /nice/ thought.
He just needs to wait until his body devours itself whole, and leaves him burning down the path of no recovery.
It's not a /nice/ thought.
It's not a pleasant thought, really, but it does give him some sort of dreadful relief, because--
Because he's not sure if anyone is /looking/ for him.
Dazai and him broke up. Whatever the circumstances were and no matter who was right and who was /wrong/, Dazai basically told
Because he's not sure if anyone is /looking/ for him.
Dazai and him broke up. Whatever the circumstances were and no matter who was right and who was /wrong/, Dazai basically told
him to get lost and never return. He didn't /want/ him to come back.
And Chuuya said he was going to Kouyou's, and Dazai has never /met/ Kouyou, so it's not like he could confirm that, /if/ he cared to check.
His father will eventually try to contact him, but other than that...
And Chuuya said he was going to Kouyou's, and Dazai has never /met/ Kouyou, so it's not like he could confirm that, /if/ he cared to check.
His father will eventually try to contact him, but other than that...
It might be /days/ before anyone realizes he's missing. He doesn't have any classes to be at, no job obligations, he's basically drifted away from all his friends, his sisters rarely talk to him anymore in any serious capacity.
It might be a /while/ before anyone comes looking
It might be a /while/ before anyone comes looking
for him. Even longer for them to /find/ him and--
Chuuya can't stand much more of this.The idea of /days/ of this,drowning and choking and breathing and drowning and choking and--
He can't do it. He's not like those strong,fearless, stubborn, /indomitable/ heroes in the movies.
Chuuya can't stand much more of this.The idea of /days/ of this,drowning and choking and breathing and drowning and choking and--
He can't do it. He's not like those strong,fearless, stubborn, /indomitable/ heroes in the movies.
He's not--
He's not someone who can /do/ this. Maybe in another life, another story, another him...
It feels /wrong/ to be glad that his body is a ticking time bomb, slowly reaching the end of it's lifespan. It feels /wrong/ to be grateful that his shitty immune system, his
He's not someone who can /do/ this. Maybe in another life, another story, another him...
It feels /wrong/ to be glad that his body is a ticking time bomb, slowly reaching the end of it's lifespan. It feels /wrong/ to be grateful that his shitty immune system, his
fucked-up body and his /stupid/ brain will give him one last gift--
The gift of /death/.
The scrape of the bucket against the concrete makes him flinch again, tears welling up and dropping to join the wet mess of cloth around his head.
He's so /cold/.
"I'm /disappointed/,"
The gift of /death/.
The scrape of the bucket against the concrete makes him flinch again, tears welling up and dropping to join the wet mess of cloth around his head.
He's so /cold/.
"I'm /disappointed/,"
the girl rasps, her voice sounding like she's in the middle of smoking a cigarette. It reeks too much for Chuuya to tell for certain. "I really thought you'd be more /cooperative/."
A slight spill of water drips on the back of his head, making his breath catch in his throat.
A slight spill of water drips on the back of his head, making his breath catch in his throat.
"I dont--," he whimpers out, cringing away from the touch of wet, "I don't /know/, I swear."
Another sigh by his ear, this one even more irritated than the last.
Chuuya is /fully/ expecting for his head to be yanked backwards, neck twinging painfully, taking huge breaths in
Another sigh by his ear, this one even more irritated than the last.
Chuuya is /fully/ expecting for his head to be yanked backwards, neck twinging painfully, taking huge breaths in
préparation, shivers dancing nauseatingly up his spine—
“I believe you.”
Relief bursts through him, and he slumps in reaction, shoulders twinging as even more of his weight settles on them. Thank /god/, she believes him, it’s over—
“So how about I ask you questions you /do/
“I believe you.”
Relief bursts through him, and he slumps in reaction, shoulders twinging as even more of his weight settles on them. Thank /god/, she believes him, it’s over—
“So how about I ask you questions you /do/
know, hm?”
Chuuya is so /relieved/ by the idea of not having to go through that again, hope flaring sharp and painful in his chest, that he’s nodding before he even understands what she’s saying.
/ I’ll do anything, just /please/ don’t drown me again. /
This time, her voice
Chuuya is so /relieved/ by the idea of not having to go through that again, hope flaring sharp and painful in his chest, that he’s nodding before he even understands what she’s saying.
/ I’ll do anything, just /please/ don’t drown me again. /
This time, her voice
comes from in front and slightly below him, like she’s crouching right in front of him. There’s a touch of warmth near his ankles, body heat. “Do you have any siblings?”
/No, /not/ them./
Chuuya clenches his jaw shut, unwilling to give her /any/ information on his family—
/No, /not/ them./
Chuuya clenches his jaw shut, unwilling to give her /any/ information on his family—
But then there’s the metallic scrape of metal on concrete, the slosh of water, and the fear takes over.
“Yes,” he chokes out, cringing away from the noise. He can’t go far, but he has wet-friction burns on his wrists from struggling anyways.
His mind is whirring-blank, so full
“Yes,” he chokes out, cringing away from the noise. He can’t go far, but he has wet-friction burns on his wrists from struggling anyways.
His mind is whirring-blank, so full
of emotion and flash-fire thoughts, terror and adrenaline, instinct and /I can’t, I can’t, I can’t/, that he can’t even pick out a coherent /thought/ in the mess. Sightless,scentless, thoughtless, an animal in its death throes.
“What are their names?” The question is accompanied
“What are their names?” The question is accompanied
by a light tap on his ankle, so much more painful because it’s /gentle/.
A reminder that he doesn’t /have/ to hurt, she doesn’t /have/ to make him suffer, as long as he gives her what she wants.
“Kyouka,” he mutters, feeling like he’s /betraying/ everyone he knows and loves,
A reminder that he doesn’t /have/ to hurt, she doesn’t /have/ to make him suffer, as long as he gives her what she wants.
“Kyouka,” he mutters, feeling like he’s /betraying/ everyone he knows and loves,
but he can’t /help/ it. Not when he has a /sliver/ of hope, not when he’s facing what he thinks is his /death/, cold and painful and alone.
He’s so /young/, there’s so much he wants to /do/. He shouldn’t be here. It shouldn’t end like this.
“And Kouyou,” he whispers, deflating.
He’s so /young/, there’s so much he wants to /do/. He shouldn’t be here. It shouldn’t end like this.
“And Kouyou,” he whispers, deflating.
(Meanwhile, Nika is feeling /two/ distinct feelings right now.
/Pride/, because she's getting /exactly/ what she wants right now. The goal was never to get Chuuya to cough up information on the Demon Prodigy. That is a goal too far, and even if they are /dating/, she doubts that
/Pride/, because she's getting /exactly/ what she wants right now. The goal was never to get Chuuya to cough up information on the Demon Prodigy. That is a goal too far, and even if they are /dating/, she doubts that
Dazai would be foolish enough to share sensitive information with this...
Child.
Really, he's not much younger than her. A little over six months, but she was /never/ this... /sheltered/. Never this naïve, never this weak, never this unprepared.
It's completely clear that
Child.
Really, he's not much younger than her. A little over six months, but she was /never/ this... /sheltered/. Never this naïve, never this weak, never this unprepared.
It's completely clear that
Nakahara Chuuya was completely and utterly unprepared for something like this.
Which leads to the second emotions she's feeling: /disappointment/.
It's not often she gets to /play/ with her victims. Father often prefers a quick, clean death when dealing with the Bratva, and
Which leads to the second emotions she's feeling: /disappointment/.
It's not often she gets to /play/ with her victims. Father often prefers a quick, clean death when dealing with the Bratva, and
torturing victims was something he often considered above Nika's paygrade.
It's been a /while/ since she's been given free rein like this and it's always over too quick.
It's only been six hours. Six hours of /intensive/ work, granted, taking Nakahara's senses from him and
It's been a /while/ since she's been given free rein like this and it's always over too quick.
It's only been six hours. Six hours of /intensive/ work, granted, taking Nakahara's senses from him and
working him over, deliberately making sure he has no sense of time passing. Taking everything away from him that makes him /human/, leaving him a wounded animal desperate for relief.
Which serves her well /now/.
Offering him a shred of compassion, an escape route, and reaping
Which serves her well /now/.
Offering him a shred of compassion, an escape route, and reaping
the benefits. Digging through his cracked-open mind, finding a weak point, and forcing it open.
Personal information is a valuable commodity in the criminal underworld. Most people--especially the more powerful ones--try to wipe everything about themselves from public knowledge.
Personal information is a valuable commodity in the criminal underworld. Most people--especially the more powerful ones--try to wipe everything about themselves from public knowledge.
No birthdays, no legal names, no family, no schools, no medical history, nothing.
They only want to be known on /their/ terms, because every scrap of knowledge that someone else knows can be used against them. Anything and everything is a weapon, when you're building a file on
They only want to be known on /their/ terms, because every scrap of knowledge that someone else knows can be used against them. Anything and everything is a weapon, when you're building a file on
someone.
Humans are pattern-oriented beasts. They form habits, follow schedules, make their passcodes the birthdays of their significant others. There are /very/ few parts of a person that aren't, in some way, connected to their personal lives. To information that they think
Humans are pattern-oriented beasts. They form habits, follow schedules, make their passcodes the birthdays of their significant others. There are /very/ few parts of a person that aren't, in some way, connected to their personal lives. To information that they think
is safe, secret and secure.
Information they think only /they/ know, but because humans are pack animals and inevitably drawn to each other--
Once you know somebody's /pattern/, you know /them/. And nobody knows someone like their /family/, right?
Sibling bonds are such a
Information they think only /they/ know, but because humans are pack animals and inevitably drawn to each other--
Once you know somebody's /pattern/, you know /them/. And nobody knows someone like their /family/, right?
Sibling bonds are such a
curious thing, too. Full of animosity and competition and /trust/.
No one knows Kouyou Ozaki better than her little brother.
And Nakahara Chuuya is going to tell Nika /everything/.
It's all patterns, and Nika is a /very/ good strategist.)
------ +
No one knows Kouyou Ozaki better than her little brother.
And Nakahara Chuuya is going to tell Nika /everything/.
It's all patterns, and Nika is a /very/ good strategist.)
------ +
***** TW SCENE END FOR NOW *****
Summary: Nika questions Chuuya about his sister Kouyou. He answers the questions.
Summary: Nika questions Chuuya about his sister Kouyou. He answers the questions.
Kouyou watches Dazai pace with narrowed eyes. It's annoying, puts him on edge. Wants him want to pick a fight or /bite/, anything to dispel this restless energy building up inside him.
It's been eight hours since Chuuya went missing. Three since he needed his dose. Nine until he
It's been eight hours since Chuuya went missing. Three since he needed his dose. Nine until he
needs the next one.
A short time, in comparison to many hostage situations-- Dazai himself was once held hostage for almost five days, once, a time he only unwillingly revisits in his nightmares-- but every minute ticks by with agonizing, dreadful slowness.
Tick. Tock.
A short time, in comparison to many hostage situations-- Dazai himself was once held hostage for almost five days, once, a time he only unwillingly revisits in his nightmares-- but every minute ticks by with agonizing, dreadful slowness.
Tick. Tock.
Torture is not something anyone can really be prepared for. People, especially regular civilians, like to say that /they'd/ be the ones to hold out in the face of unimaginable agony. They wouldn't break. They wouldn't give up their secrets because /they/ are different.
It's
It's
easy to say that when you're sitting on the couch watching TV, or reading a novel. It's easy to say that, until you're the one going under the knife.
It's easier to /prepare/ when you know what you're in for--
But Chuuya /doesn't/ know. Never knew. Kouyou was careful to keep it
It's easier to /prepare/ when you know what you're in for--
But Chuuya /doesn't/ know. Never knew. Kouyou was careful to keep it
from him, and so was Dazai. As far as he know, up until the hour or so before he was taken, everyone he knew was /normal/. He didn't know about the Mafia, or who Fyodor was, or the Yakuza.
He was just a normal college kid. That's what he was /supposed/ to be.
And now he's...
He was just a normal college kid. That's what he was /supposed/ to be.
And now he's...
Gone. Being held hostage, /probably/ in the hands of Dazai's worst enemy.
At least, he hopes it's Fyodor because if it's /not/, then he has no clue who took him and /how/. At least they have a direction to look in.
A direction that has led them to dragging up the CCTV for the
At least, he hopes it's Fyodor because if it's /not/, then he has no clue who took him and /how/. At least they have a direction to look in.
A direction that has led them to dragging up the CCTV for the
streets surrounding his house. They're difficult, because Dazai had Rokozou set them onto a repeating three-day loop /ages/ ago, a loop that never included him or any of his possessions in the frames.
The real footage is sent to a storage facility, to be deleted along with all
The real footage is sent to a storage facility, to be deleted along with all
the other old footage. Keeps the facilities from overflowing, and it's rare for footage from a year ago to be needed.
Kouyou called... someone Dazai has never met or heard of, to dig the real footage out of the digital dump. It's not a /quick/ process, and every minute it takes
Kouyou called... someone Dazai has never met or heard of, to dig the real footage out of the digital dump. It's not a /quick/ process, and every minute it takes
/forever/.
Dazai turns on his heel, pacing back the way he came. His palms itch, aching for the weight of a gun.
The tension between all three of them--Kouyou, Odasaku and Dazai-- has been steadily growing for the past two hours. Odasaku has been soundly ignoring it, texting
Dazai turns on his heel, pacing back the way he came. His palms itch, aching for the weight of a gun.
The tension between all three of them--Kouyou, Odasaku and Dazai-- has been steadily growing for the past two hours. Odasaku has been soundly ignoring it, texting
someone on his phone and smothering huffs of laughter.
Dazai's been /trying/ to ignore it, but Kouyou has been glaring at him and watching him pace for the last hour or so, and he's quickly reaching his limit. His temper, when he's in this mindset, has never been the best.
Dazai's been /trying/ to ignore it, but Kouyou has been glaring at him and watching him pace for the last hour or so, and he's quickly reaching his limit. His temper, when he's in this mindset, has never been the best.
Finally, she speaks up. "How long have you been dating my brother?"
She says 'my brother' with a possessive sort of jealousy, like she's staking a claim on Chuuya. She also says it /accusingly/, like she thinks Dazai might've done this on /purpose/.
Honestly, if he were still
She says 'my brother' with a possessive sort of jealousy, like she's staking a claim on Chuuya. She also says it /accusingly/, like she thinks Dazai might've done this on /purpose/.
Honestly, if he were still
the Demon Prodigy, it would've been a solid plan.
But he's not that person, not anymore.
At least, he /wasn't/. Now... he would be, if he needed to be.
"A little over a month," he mutters, not willing to go into the details of their relationship. They might have been
But he's not that person, not anymore.
At least, he /wasn't/. Now... he would be, if he needed to be.
"A little over a month," he mutters, not willing to go into the details of their relationship. They might have been
/officially/ dating for only six weeks, but Chuuya's been his for almost four months now.
Dazai's been /his/ for longer than that, infatuated since the day they met.
Red eyes narrow in on him, unhappy with his answer. "You seem pretty upset for someone who's only known Chuuya
Dazai's been /his/ for longer than that, infatuated since the day they met.
Red eyes narrow in on him, unhappy with his answer. "You seem pretty upset for someone who's only known Chuuya
for a few months."
The implication that Dazai is faking or /lying/, or any part of this situation was /coordinated/ by him, floors him.
He whirls around, nostrils flaring as he /tries/ to keep his voice in check. "Of /course/ I'm upset?! We're /dating/ and I--"
He barely
The implication that Dazai is faking or /lying/, or any part of this situation was /coordinated/ by him, floors him.
He whirls around, nostrils flaring as he /tries/ to keep his voice in check. "Of /course/ I'm upset?! We're /dating/ and I--"
He barely
catches himself in time, jaw snapping shut around what he /almost/ said. Kouyou doesn't get to hear /those/ words first, and he doesn't get to say it now. Chuuya is the only one who is going to hear them.
/ I love him. /
He rolls the words around on his tongue, tasting them.
/ I love him. /
He rolls the words around on his tongue, tasting them.
The weight of them in his mouth is like truth, like absolution, heavy and summer-sweet, ripe fruit bursting over his starved tongue and giving him a glimpse of heaven.
It feels like the thing he's been looking for, for all these years. The thing he didn't know he wanted or
It feels like the thing he's been looking for, for all these years. The thing he didn't know he wanted or
/needed/.
He turns away from Kouyou, hiding his face as he savors the revelation.
It's probably /wrong/ and undeserved after what he said to Chuuya but--
After so long of being numb and empty, he really thought he didn't have the capacity to love anyone. It felt like he'd
He turns away from Kouyou, hiding his face as he savors the revelation.
It's probably /wrong/ and undeserved after what he said to Chuuya but--
After so long of being numb and empty, he really thought he didn't have the capacity to love anyone. It felt like he'd
snuffed those pieces of himself out, collateral damage in the war he'd been waging on himself for decades. He was so broken that the damage couldn't be fixed anymore, permanently etched into his being, even after he started the long, painfully-slow process of healing.
Trust
Trust
Chuuya to show him that even something he thought impossible /was/ possible,and as easy and inevitable as gravity.
Falling is weightless.
It feels wrong to enjoy it, to say the the words over and over again to himself— /I love him, I love him, I love him— considering everything
Falling is weightless.
It feels wrong to enjoy it, to say the the words over and over again to himself— /I love him, I love him, I love him— considering everything
that’s happened between them, everything that’s happening right now, everything that can and has gone wrong—
But maybe it’s just fate that Dazai discovered love on a battlefield, and probably lost it before he ever realized he had it. Is in the process of losing it, probably.
But maybe it’s just fate that Dazai discovered love on a battlefield, and probably lost it before he ever realized he had it. Is in the process of losing it, probably.
Everything he wants will inevitably be lost.... but for now, he has a tiny little flame of warmth and affection, something he can cup his hands around and hope it doesn’t go out. Hope he gets to keep /this/, this tiny shred of love, and nurture it.
He’s not ready to give it up.
He’s not ready to give it up.
Not yet.
/Please/ not yet.
He starts pacing again, frustration bubbling up. This is taking so /long/, but they don't have a lead on what vehicle Chuuya was taken with. The downside of living in the residential area is that quite a few vehicles are always moving in and out of
/Please/ not yet.
He starts pacing again, frustration bubbling up. This is taking so /long/, but they don't have a lead on what vehicle Chuuya was taken with. The downside of living in the residential area is that quite a few vehicles are always moving in and out of
the neighborhood.
Dazai can recognize quite a few of them, but he doesn't know /everyone/, and even his memory isn't perfect. There's still half a dozen cars that can't be excused away, and while that's less than what they started with, that's still /too many/. They can't track
Dazai can recognize quite a few of them, but he doesn't know /everyone/, and even his memory isn't perfect. There's still half a dozen cars that can't be excused away, and while that's less than what they started with, that's still /too many/. They can't track
/every/ vehicle, it would take too much time.
Every minute Chuuya spends in the hands of someone /else/ is too much. They need to find him /now/.
Dazai feels /useless/ here. All his skills and intelligence amount to nothing when he doesn't have a /direction/ to work in.
It's
Every minute Chuuya spends in the hands of someone /else/ is too much. They need to find him /now/.
Dazai feels /useless/ here. All his skills and intelligence amount to nothing when he doesn't have a /direction/ to work in.
It's
safe to assume that Fyodor has him, but considering that the Rat's don't /have/ a confirmed headquarters that Dazai knows of,he could be hidden anywhere in the city. Fyodor has been /annoyingly/ insistent in crossing boundary lines with flagrant disrespect, offering meeting spots
on Mafia territory, on no-man's-land, on territory regularly patrolled by the police.
He's been /very/ deliberate about avoiding a pattern, so Dazai can't hazard a guess where his main building is. He knows where the /warehouse/ is, but that seems to obvious a place to be
He's been /very/ deliberate about avoiding a pattern, so Dazai can't hazard a guess where his main building is. He knows where the /warehouse/ is, but that seems to obvious a place to be
hiding Chuuya. Especially if he was planning for... an /extended/ session.
Even thinking that makes him sick.
"So when are you going to realize that we /need/ help, and let Oda call him?" Dazai asks, shooting a hot glare at Kouyou before turning on his heel and pacing back the
Even thinking that makes him sick.
"So when are you going to realize that we /need/ help, and let Oda call him?" Dazai asks, shooting a hot glare at Kouyou before turning on his heel and pacing back the
other way.
"Last I checked you /already/ spoke to Ranpo, and he said he needed information. What more information do we have now than you did when you went to see him? Hardly anything. Akio is working his /hardest/, and he's narrowing down the suspects. When we have a /lead/, we
"Last I checked you /already/ spoke to Ranpo, and he said he needed information. What more information do we have now than you did when you went to see him? Hardly anything. Akio is working his /hardest/, and he's narrowing down the suspects. When we have a /lead/, we
will call him, but you know as well as I do that calling him before that is just likely to piss him off. Do you want a pissed off Ranpo?"
No..... no, Dazai does not. Ranpo is /mean/.
(In the corner:
[ ODA ]: the girls are fiGHTTTINNGGGGG
[ ODA ]: is that the meme did i do it
No..... no, Dazai does not. Ranpo is /mean/.
(In the corner:
[ ODA ]: the girls are fiGHTTTINNGGGGG
[ ODA ]: is that the meme did i do it
right
[ CANDY MAN ]: yes yes gold star what are they fighting about
[ ODA ]: You. Dazai wants to call you, Kouyou wants to wait
[ CANDY MAN ]: LOL
[ CANDY MAN ]: 100 yen says dazai breaks and calls me himself
[ ODA ]: I know better than to bet against you.
[ CANDY MAN]: :( )
[ CANDY MAN ]: yes yes gold star what are they fighting about
[ ODA ]: You. Dazai wants to call you, Kouyou wants to wait
[ CANDY MAN ]: LOL
[ CANDY MAN ]: 100 yen says dazai breaks and calls me himself
[ ODA ]: I know better than to bet against you.
[ CANDY MAN]: :( )
Dazai spins back around, letting out a sharp, frustrated noise. "/Why/ does it feel like I'm the only one taking this /seriously/?"
Everyone else is content to /wait/, while he paces himself into the ground, legs thrumming with the need to do /something/. It's impossible to sit
Everyone else is content to /wait/, while he paces himself into the ground, legs thrumming with the need to do /something/. It's impossible to sit
still and /wait/ for information.
Akio clears his throat, shrinking in his seat when Dazai's head swings toward him, pinning him in place with heated, /angry/ eyes. He's shaking lightly. Probably never expected to be in the same room as /three/ of the most powerful people in
Akio clears his throat, shrinking in his seat when Dazai's head swings toward him, pinning him in place with heated, /angry/ eyes. He's shaking lightly. Probably never expected to be in the same room as /three/ of the most powerful people in
Yokohama, the mediocre grunt that he is. Good enough to sit solidly in the middle of the power structure, but not good enough to earn himself an audience with the boss.
Until today, that is. With no one else to turn to, Rokuzou /missing/, all Kouyou has is /this/ guy.
He points
Until today, that is. With no one else to turn to, Rokuzou /missing/, all Kouyou has is /this/ guy.
He points
to the screen. "Do you recognize that car? It left right around the same time, and there's a blanket in the backseat that wasn't there when it arrived..."
Dazai looks, eyes narrowing on the screen. It's a grey four door, nothing too flashy or dingy. Just the exact right of
Dazai looks, eyes narrowing on the screen. It's a grey four door, nothing too flashy or dingy. Just the exact right of
normal to pass by undetected by anyone at a glance. He doesn't recognize it at all.
"No. Did you check the plates on it? Are they registered to that vehicle?"
Akio looks briefly terrified. "I can't get into the government systems to check for sure,but I can..."
He trails off,
"No. Did you check the plates on it? Are they registered to that vehicle?"
Akio looks briefly terrified. "I can't get into the government systems to check for sure,but I can..."
He trails off,
exiting out the camera feed and pulling up a regular, protected search engine. Painstakingly, he enters in "license plate number search", clicks on the first website and starts to enter in the numbers.
Dazai looks at Kouyou drolly, like 'Really? This is the best you've got?'.
Dazai looks at Kouyou drolly, like 'Really? This is the best you've got?'.
'A man that can /google/?'.
Kouyou meets his stare head on, gesturing with her hands for Dazai to present anyone /better/, and looking damn smug when he lets out a frustrated huff and looks away again.
"The plates are registered to a car of that make and model...but not that
Kouyou meets his stare head on, gesturing with her hands for Dazai to present anyone /better/, and looking damn smug when he lets out a frustrated huff and looks away again.
"The plates are registered to a car of that make and model...but not that
color. Color is registered as blue," Akio says. It's unnecessary because Dazai /can/ read the screen, thank you very much, but at least everyone is guaranteed to be on the same page now.
It's possible that the owner of the car got a paint job and has yet to report it to the
It's possible that the owner of the car got a paint job and has yet to report it to the
vehicle registry...
Or, it was never registered to that specific vehicle at /all/ and the plates are stolen.
He doesn’t bother asking if Akio can check for reports on missing plates, instead squinting at the screen to try to catch a glimpse of the driver. He doesn’t recognize
Or, it was never registered to that specific vehicle at /all/ and the plates are stolen.
He doesn’t bother asking if Akio can check for reports on missing plates, instead squinting at the screen to try to catch a glimpse of the driver. He doesn’t recognize
the name offhand, and he supposes they could cross-reference it with the names registered as owners on the nearby houses in the neighborhood—
But Dazai’s got a /hunch/. There’s something about that car and the way it drives /perfectly/ safely that makes it /suspicious/.
But Dazai’s got a /hunch/. There’s something about that car and the way it drives /perfectly/ safely that makes it /suspicious/.
"Where do they go?" Dazai asks, gesturing for Akio to get to work with the equipment.
He does, although it takes /thrice/ as long as it would've taken Rokuzou, haphazardly following the vehicle's progress out of the suburbs and into the city using the trail of city cameras. He
He does, although it takes /thrice/ as long as it would've taken Rokuzou, haphazardly following the vehicle's progress out of the suburbs and into the city using the trail of city cameras. He
makes a few mistakes, jumping to the wrong camera and having to fumble back to the correct one, but he manages the task.
At least until the tunnel systems. There's a section there where the cameras are placed a fraction too far apart, leaving a blind spot the length of a few
At least until the tunnel systems. There's a section there where the cameras are placed a fraction too far apart, leaving a blind spot the length of a few
dozen cars. It's a fault in the system, and one that's taken advantage of--
Because when the vehicle exits, around the expected time, Dazai /almost/ doesn't catch that the driver is different and the blanket in the backseat looks flatter than before.
Driver switch. They moved
Because when the vehicle exits, around the expected time, Dazai /almost/ doesn't catch that the driver is different and the blanket in the backseat looks flatter than before.
Driver switch. They moved
him. And without a /view/ of what happened, Chuuya could've been transferred to another car--any car that exits around the same time.
Their lead is /dust/.
"Now what?" Dazai asks meanly, turning his head to pin Kouyou with a glare. He was patient, he /waited/ while her
Their lead is /dust/.
"Now what?" Dazai asks meanly, turning his head to pin Kouyou with a glare. He was patient, he /waited/ while her
half-competent man did what he could, and now they've hit a wall. "You wanna manually check every vehicle for him?"
Sighing in frustration, Kouyou gestures to Oda. "Of course not," she snaps, aiming a dagger stare at him, "Now we can call him. Stop acting like you're the only
Sighing in frustration, Kouyou gestures to Oda. "Of course not," she snaps, aiming a dagger stare at him, "Now we can call him. Stop acting like you're the only
one who wants to find /my/ brother. Mishandling the search will just make it take longer."
The /tone/ in her voice, like she's /better/ than him, smarter than him, has more connection to Chuuya than he does, makes him /angry/. He might have no experience in /caring/ for people,
The /tone/ in her voice, like she's /better/ than him, smarter than him, has more connection to Chuuya than he does, makes him /angry/. He might have no experience in /caring/ for people,
but that doesn’t make him less /worried/. Less capable.
His temper flares, more agitated than he ever remembers being, and he /almost/ lashes out. Almost takes out all his aggression and fear on her.
He bites it back at the last moment, clenching his jaw until his teeth hurt
His temper flares, more agitated than he ever remembers being, and he /almost/ lashes out. Almost takes out all his aggression and fear on her.
He bites it back at the last moment, clenching his jaw until his teeth hurt
as Oda dials a number.
It’s hard to /understand/ Kouyou, because she doesn’t have that same ruthlessness that he does. That Oda or Yosano do, a vicious survival instinct that’s been carved into them ever since they were young kids.
Oda chooses to be kind. That’s the kind of
It’s hard to /understand/ Kouyou, because she doesn’t have that same ruthlessness that he does. That Oda or Yosano do, a vicious survival instinct that’s been carved into them ever since they were young kids.
Oda chooses to be kind. That’s the kind of
person he is. He creates kindness and compassion, of his own volition.
Yosano can be just as sadistic and heartless as Dazai is, always the other half of Double Black. She’s simmered down as she’s gotten older, but there was a /time/ when she was the most accomplished /torturer/
Yosano can be just as sadistic and heartless as Dazai is, always the other half of Double Black. She’s simmered down as she’s gotten older, but there was a /time/ when she was the most accomplished /torturer/
of the Port Mafia. Skilled and /cruel/, able to carve out answers from any of their prisoners.
Dazai was the only one who could ever keep up with her.
But Kouyou? Kouyou had a /nice/ childhood. Maybe it was never /easy/, but she had a family who loved her. A father who made
Dazai was the only one who could ever keep up with her.
But Kouyou? Kouyou had a /nice/ childhood. Maybe it was never /easy/, but she had a family who loved her. A father who made
mistakes, yes, but one who tried his /best/ to give his kids what they needed and what they wanted. A father who calls Chuuya at /least/ once a week, and he's guessing calls his other children about the same amount.
Cruelty is not innate to Kouyou, nor was it taught to her by
Cruelty is not innate to Kouyou, nor was it taught to her by
example. She stumbled upon the Mafia by chance, and rose up the ranks with luck and skill, but not by cruelty.
Dazai will admit that attitude is better for the Mafia in the long run--business has never been better for them and relations with the public are reaching a new level
Dazai will admit that attitude is better for the Mafia in the long run--business has never been better for them and relations with the public are reaching a new level
of understanding and complacency-- but it's so /frustrating/ to feel like he's the only one willing to tear down the city to find Chuuya.
It makes him feel like he's a rabid dog, too dumb to understand how to get itself out of a trap, while everyone else is looking on in pity.
It makes him feel like he's a rabid dog, too dumb to understand how to get itself out of a trap, while everyone else is looking on in pity.
He's /not/ stupid. His intelligence is one of the few things that has never been taken away from him, and while he's /riled up/ and anxious right now, that doesn't mean he's /stupid/ or acting out of turn.
It's hard to /think/ when reactionary measures--at least in the present
It's hard to /think/ when reactionary measures--at least in the present
tense, when reflexes could mean the difference between life and agonizing death-- have been drilled into him since before he graduated middle school.
But he also knows he doesn't have the power here. He gave up his power over the Mafia years ago, and even if he /wanted/ to take
But he also knows he doesn't have the power here. He gave up his power over the Mafia years ago, and even if he /wanted/ to take
over again, it's not an option now.
Kouyou isn't going to step down willingly, and if Dazai hurts her, Chuuya will /never/ forgive him. He's already screwed things up enough, he doesn't need to add harming his family to his crimes.
And after this, Dazai promises himself that he
Kouyou isn't going to step down willingly, and if Dazai hurts her, Chuuya will /never/ forgive him. He's already screwed things up enough, he doesn't need to add harming his family to his crimes.
And after this, Dazai promises himself that he
won’t ever lie to Chuuya again. It’s probably too little, too late, and he’s under no illusions that it will be enough to solve their fight or earn his forgiveness but—
If Chuuya can forgive him, he’ll make it his life’s mission to make sure he never hurts him again. Dazai
If Chuuya can forgive him, he’ll make it his life’s mission to make sure he never hurts him again. Dazai
has already forgiven him.
He didn’t give Chuuya a choice either way, and he should’ve known that his curious little baby would go looking for answers. He’s a /brat/ like that.
He just hopes it’s not too late.
On the other side of the room, Oda pulls his phone away from his
He didn’t give Chuuya a choice either way, and he should’ve known that his curious little baby would go looking for answers. He’s a /brat/ like that.
He just hopes it’s not too late.
On the other side of the room, Oda pulls his phone away from his
ear.
“He’s on his way up. Says everyone in the room owes him a favor, by the way, so I hope everyone is ready to pay up,” Oda informs them, shoving his phone in his pocket.
Behind them all, Akio gapes. “Even me?”
“Yep,” Oda says, popping the ‘p’. “As far as Ranpo is concerned,
“He’s on his way up. Says everyone in the room owes him a favor, by the way, so I hope everyone is ready to pay up,” Oda informs them, shoving his phone in his pocket.
Behind them all, Akio gapes. “Even me?”
“Yep,” Oda says, popping the ‘p’. “As far as Ranpo is concerned,
everyone in here is ‘incompetent’ and he’s suffering the consequences for it. In his own words, he doesn’t suffer stupidity lightly.”
Kouyou frowns at him. “He called us all incompetent?”
“Well....no,” Oda draws out, shifting on his feet, “Incompetent is the polite form of
Kouyou frowns at him. “He called us all incompetent?”
“Well....no,” Oda draws out, shifting on his feet, “Incompetent is the polite form of
what he said.”
Unbidden, Dazai’s lips curl into a smile. Trust Ranpo to have the balls to call the most powerful people in Yokohama a room full of idiots.
“Who is Ranpo anyways?” Akio asks, leaning back in his chair. He seems to have gotten over his nerves and is now enjoying
Unbidden, Dazai’s lips curl into a smile. Trust Ranpo to have the balls to call the most powerful people in Yokohama a room full of idiots.
“Who is Ranpo anyways?” Akio asks, leaning back in his chair. He seems to have gotten over his nerves and is now enjoying
the perks of being in the same room as them. He’s being eyeing up Kouyou in her modern suit, face turning pink.
He’s lucky that Oda isn’t a jealous man, otherwise he might find his /usefulness/ has quickly expired.
“Ranpo is a detective,” Kouyou explains, straightening from
He’s lucky that Oda isn’t a jealous man, otherwise he might find his /usefulness/ has quickly expired.
“Ranpo is a detective,” Kouyou explains, straightening from
her place leaning back against the table. She comes around to the front of the room, to where she was sitting before when Dazai barged in. With her long, pink-manicured nails,she begins to gather up all the papers that had been scattered over the table.
Akio’s eyebrows shoot up.
Akio’s eyebrows shoot up.
"He's a /dirty cop/? And you're just going to let a dirty cop talk to the Boss like that?"
The last part of the sentence is aimed at /Oda/, with just a hint of sarcasm and disbelief. Poor man has no idea who he's talking to.
Odasaku might /choose/ to be compassionate and kind,
The last part of the sentence is aimed at /Oda/, with just a hint of sarcasm and disbelief. Poor man has no idea who he's talking to.
Odasaku might /choose/ to be compassionate and kind,
but that doesn't make him less of a /threat/. That doesn't mean he's someone to take lightly.
The personal bodyguard and plaything to the Boss of the Port Mafia is not someone you should underestimate, no matter how unassuming he might act or look.
Dazai aims a smile at Akio,
The personal bodyguard and plaything to the Boss of the Port Mafia is not someone you should underestimate, no matter how unassuming he might act or look.
Dazai aims a smile at Akio,
taunting and condescending. "Why don't you ask him that when he gets up here?"
"A /cop/?" Akio asks, disbelief filtering over his features, "In the Mafia Headquarters?"
This is why the grunts and subordinates don't get sensitive information. They start making /opinions/ before
"A /cop/?" Akio asks, disbelief filtering over his features, "In the Mafia Headquarters?"
This is why the grunts and subordinates don't get sensitive information. They start making /opinions/ before
they even know what they're talking about. /Who/ they're talking about, or what that person is capable of.
This city runs the way it does because Ranpo doesn't care enough to turn them all in. Doesn't care enough to hunt them down and bring them all to justice. He knows enough
This city runs the way it does because Ranpo doesn't care enough to turn them all in. Doesn't care enough to hunt them down and bring them all to justice. He knows enough
to bring all of them down and lock them up for life.
He doesn’t, though, partly because he’s a petty bastard that likes to hold that possibility over their heads to get what he wants, and partly because he understands /very/ well that an uncontrolled criminal underground often
He doesn’t, though, partly because he’s a petty bastard that likes to hold that possibility over their heads to get what he wants, and partly because he understands /very/ well that an uncontrolled criminal underground often
causes more trouble than what it’s worth.
At least Kouyou keeps the drug runners, the prostitues, the illegal arms dealers in /check/. Without a top dog, the rest of the pack quickly becomes wild.
Ranpo must’ve been waiting for a call like this, because it only takes him
At least Kouyou keeps the drug runners, the prostitues, the illegal arms dealers in /check/. Without a top dog, the rest of the pack quickly becomes wild.
Ranpo must’ve been waiting for a call like this, because it only takes him
twenty minutes before he’s strolling into the room with the sort of casual confidence only he has, hands in his pockets.
“So,” he greets, mischievous glee in his tone, “how’d the family reunion go? Not good?”
Dazai’s eyes snap to him. “You /knew/?” He hisses, outraged.
“So,” he greets, mischievous glee in his tone, “how’d the family reunion go? Not good?”
Dazai’s eyes snap to him. “You /knew/?” He hisses, outraged.
Ranpo scoffs at him. “Of /course/ I knew? Who do you think I am?”
“And you didn’t /warn me/?” Dazai snaps, throwing his hands up. This entire situation could’ve gone over /much/ smoother if he had /known/ Kouyou was Chuuya’s sister. He wouldn’t have had to storm in here, guns
“And you didn’t /warn me/?” Dazai snaps, throwing his hands up. This entire situation could’ve gone over /much/ smoother if he had /known/ Kouyou was Chuuya’s sister. He wouldn’t have had to storm in here, guns
blazing, and offer to shoot the closest thing he has to a best friend in order to get his demands met. He could’ve just /asked/.
Kouyou crosses her arms over her chest, the imperiousness of her expression completely lost on Ranpo.
“Why would I just give you all the answers?
Kouyou crosses her arms over her chest, the imperiousness of her expression completely lost on Ranpo.
“Why would I just give you all the answers?
It's a /lot/ more fun this way," Ranpo says,beelining towards one of the chairs and dropping into it with all the confidence of a king.
"More fun for /you/," Kouyou grits out,looking like she's itching to pull out on of the weapons Dazai /knows/ she has stashed on her somewhere.
"More fun for /you/," Kouyou grits out,looking like she's itching to pull out on of the weapons Dazai /knows/ she has stashed on her somewhere.
"My brother is /missing/."
Ranpo holds up a hand, tsking in annoyance. "That's not on me. I'm not the one who lost him--" Dazai feels the sting of disapproval, making his lip curl, "--and I'm also not the one who refused to prepare him for a possibility like this."
Kouyou
Ranpo holds up a hand, tsking in annoyance. "That's not on me. I'm not the one who lost him--" Dazai feels the sting of disapproval, making his lip curl, "--and I'm also not the one who refused to prepare him for a possibility like this."
Kouyou
winces, expression closing off.
“Now, you can both choose to be pissy with me because you—“ he points to Kouyou, “are too stupid to think about and Dazai is a coward, in which case I will /happily/ leave to return to my date. Or you can let me have my fun and I’ll help you find
“Now, you can both choose to be pissy with me because you—“ he points to Kouyou, “are too stupid to think about and Dazai is a coward, in which case I will /happily/ leave to return to my date. Or you can let me have my fun and I’ll help you find
your little pet. Choose quickly.”
He’s in a worse mood than usual, Dazai muses. They must’ve interrupted something important.
With a calming breath, Kouyou gestures to the screen. The picture of the tunnel is frozen there. “We managed to track the car that took him to this
He’s in a worse mood than usual, Dazai muses. They must’ve interrupted something important.
With a calming breath, Kouyou gestures to the screen. The picture of the tunnel is frozen there. “We managed to track the car that took him to this
tunnel. After this, we’ve lost sight of him.”
Ranpo hums, rocking back in his seat dangerously far. He pushes his glasses up into his hair, exposing his forehead and piercing green eyes. “Show me the route.”
The silence and tension only grows as Akio painstakingly retraces the
Ranpo hums, rocking back in his seat dangerously far. He pushes his glasses up into his hair, exposing his forehead and piercing green eyes. “Show me the route.”
The silence and tension only grows as Akio painstakingly retraces the
path the car had made. He doesn’t make any mistakes this time, which is good because Ranpo might tear him a new one.
They end on the stillframe as before, a zoomed in view of the now-empty backseat and the different driver. Dazai still doesn’t recognize him, and it doesn’t look
They end on the stillframe as before, a zoomed in view of the now-empty backseat and the different driver. Dazai still doesn’t recognize him, and it doesn’t look
like Ranpo does either, based on his expression.
He tilts his head, eyes unreadable. “Do you have an architectural map of the city? And the service tunnels?”
Kouyou nods, shooting a look at Oda. Her bodyguard disappears from the room without another word, coming back a
He tilts his head, eyes unreadable. “Do you have an architectural map of the city? And the service tunnels?”
Kouyou nods, shooting a look at Oda. Her bodyguard disappears from the room without another word, coming back a
few minutes later with twin rolls of paper.
Oda unrolls then in front of Ranpo, weighing down each end with two of the /many/ knives he keeps on him at all times.
The lines of the city map are dark enough that they can be seen even with the tunnel map stacked on top, streets
Oda unrolls then in front of Ranpo, weighing down each end with two of the /many/ knives he keeps on him at all times.
The lines of the city map are dark enough that they can be seen even with the tunnel map stacked on top, streets
lined up.
Humming, Ranpo traces the path the car took through the city, pausing when he gets to the tunnel. There's a service tunnel that connects there, but it's not helpful, considering the service tunnels themselves are winding, twisting maze.
"Dazai, you've met with
Humming, Ranpo traces the path the car took through the city, pausing when he gets to the tunnel. There's a service tunnel that connects there, but it's not helpful, considering the service tunnels themselves are winding, twisting maze.
"Dazai, you've met with
Fyodor, right?" Ranpo asks without looking up, his finger resting on the service entrance that connects with the main tunnel Chuuya was last seen in.
Dazai nods, pacing closer.
"Put the spots on the map," the detective orders, reaching into his coat and pulling out a /handful/
Dazai nods, pacing closer.
"Put the spots on the map," the detective orders, reaching into his coat and pulling out a /handful/
of tiny throwing knives from one of his many pockets. Makeshift thumb tacks.
It feels wrong to stab a knife into each spot of the map where he'd met with Fyodor, therefore ruining the map with holes, but who is he to argue? He doesn't care to ask for a pencil or something less
It feels wrong to stab a knife into each spot of the map where he'd met with Fyodor, therefore ruining the map with holes, but who is he to argue? He doesn't care to ask for a pencil or something less
/permanent/.
When he's done marking out the dozen or so spots he's met with Fyodor, he leans back, gesturing to Ranpo to work his magic.
A long moment of contemplative silence as Ranpo examines the map with all it's information, green eyes sharp and not missing a single clue.
When he's done marking out the dozen or so spots he's met with Fyodor, he leans back, gesturing to Ranpo to work his magic.
A long moment of contemplative silence as Ranpo examines the map with all it's information, green eyes sharp and not missing a single clue.
Then he makes a sharp noise, victorious, followed by a "gotcha".
Kouyou leans forward, hands braced on the table, expression fervent and focused. "You found him? You know where he is?"
It's /remarkable/, how Ranpo can be given /scraps/ of information, and manage to come up with
Kouyou leans forward, hands braced on the table, expression fervent and focused. "You found him? You know where he is?"
It's /remarkable/, how Ranpo can be given /scraps/ of information, and manage to come up with
an answer. Even Dazai, who is considered a prodigy by /most/, wouldn't able to do something like that so quickly or easily.
"Well," Ranpo hedges, leaning back in his chair again. "I know where Fyodor's headquarters /probably/ are, and considering that he's the one that took him,
"Well," Ranpo hedges, leaning back in his chair again. "I know where Fyodor's headquarters /probably/ are, and considering that he's the one that took him,
it's a good place to start."
"Where?" Kouyou demands.
Rampo folds his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here-- we still haven't discussed what's in it for /me/."
To their right, at the head of the table, Akio sucks in a shocked breath.
"Where?" Kouyou demands.
Rampo folds his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here-- we still haven't discussed what's in it for /me/."
To their right, at the head of the table, Akio sucks in a shocked breath.
That seems to be the last straw for Kouyou, the final push that shoves her over the edge into /rage/. In a flash almost too quick to follow, her hand is diving underneath her skirt and whipping out the knife she had strapped to her thigh.
With a snarl, she drives it into the
With a snarl, she drives it into the
table only a few centimeters from Ranpo's hand. "That is my /brother/," she hisses, voice hot and angry, "Not a /bargaining chip/."
Unimpressed, Ranpo raises an eyebrow, haughty. "It's going to take a lot more than /that/ butter knife to frighten me. Even if you /could/ use it
Unimpressed, Ranpo raises an eyebrow, haughty. "It's going to take a lot more than /that/ butter knife to frighten me. Even if you /could/ use it
on me."
It's a subtle barb, a /pointed/ one, a reminder that Ranpo is probably one of the highest skilled martial artists in the /city/, and it'd take a lot more than Kouyou to take him down. Not even Oda or Dazai can best him regularly.
They don't have /time/ for this. "What
It's a subtle barb, a /pointed/ one, a reminder that Ranpo is probably one of the highest skilled martial artists in the /city/, and it'd take a lot more than Kouyou to take him down. Not even Oda or Dazai can best him regularly.
They don't have /time/ for this. "What
do you want?” Dazai snaps, uncaring that he’s being rude. He doubts Ranpo cares either, as long as he gets what he wants.
Right on cue, his eyes light up. “I’m so glad you asked,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. The code to unlock it is quickly
Right on cue, his eyes light up. “I’m so glad you asked,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. The code to unlock it is quickly
entered, and he presses on the screen a few times. When he finds the page he’s looking for, Ranpo places the phone on the table and slides it over to Dazai.
Curious, he picks it up. It’s an ad listing, for a high-rise apartment near the middle of Yokohama. Expensive, sleek,
Curious, he picks it up. It’s an ad listing, for a high-rise apartment near the middle of Yokohama. Expensive, sleek,
newly listed, and /way/ above Ranpo’s pay grade.
“I want that apartment, fully paid for and in my name, by the end of the month,” the detective says, tone firm. He doesn’t sound like he’s in the mood for negotiating.
Dazai clicks through the pictures quickly, wondering why he
“I want that apartment, fully paid for and in my name, by the end of the month,” the detective says, tone firm. He doesn’t sound like he’s in the mood for negotiating.
Dazai clicks through the pictures quickly, wondering why he
needs a new apartment on Dazai’s dime. Besides, letting Dazai know where he intends to live is highly valuable information.
When he gets to the end, he accidentally clicks out and the screen exits into a conversation on a messaging app. The contact name is just one of those
When he gets to the end, he accidentally clicks out and the screen exits into a conversation on a messaging app. The contact name is just one of those
emojis, the one that looks like a dog being walked on a leash. There’s very little conversation that Dazai can see, mostly just Ranpo kicking whoever’s ass repeatedly at Sea Battle.
Whatever. Not his problem, not his concern, and something that he can do easily. “Fine,” he
Whatever. Not his problem, not his concern, and something that he can do easily. “Fine,” he
agrees, sliding the phone back across the table. Ranpo snatches it up quickly, stuffing it back into his pocket.
The next person he speaks to is Kouyou. “I want guaranteed Mafia protection on that apartment, and I want it made /explicitly/ clear to anyone who ever even
The next person he speaks to is Kouyou. “I want guaranteed Mafia protection on that apartment, and I want it made /explicitly/ clear to anyone who ever even
considered committing a crime that that apartment is /protected/.”
Kouyou raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow, an expression so familiar that Dazai’s heart pangs with it. She looks so much like Chuuya, how did he miss it until this moment?
“You don’t need mafia protection,”
Kouyou raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow, an expression so familiar that Dazai’s heart pangs with it. She looks so much like Chuuya, how did he miss it until this moment?
“You don’t need mafia protection,”
she points out, and it’s true. Ranpo’s never /needed/ protection.
“You’re right. I don’t need it. I want it. Same way you /want/ to find your little brother,” Ranpo fires back, the curve of his smug grin slightly malicious.
No one is under false impressions here. Ranpo might
“You’re right. I don’t need it. I want it. Same way you /want/ to find your little brother,” Ranpo fires back, the curve of his smug grin slightly malicious.
No one is under false impressions here. Ranpo might
be on the side of the “good” guys, and might be a representation of the law—
But if anyone thinks for even a moment that he’s /above/ letting someone die or be tortured in order to get what he wants or to prove a point, they’d be utterly wrong.
Kouyou stares him down for a
But if anyone thinks for even a moment that he’s /above/ letting someone die or be tortured in order to get what he wants or to prove a point, they’d be utterly wrong.
Kouyou stares him down for a
moment, evidently testing his resolve before she crumbles and gives him what he wants with an accepting wave of her hand. “Deal.”
Ranpo grins again, folding his hands behind his hand. “Oda,” he calls, louder than before, “I want the secret ingredient to that curry recipe.”
Oda
Ranpo grins again, folding his hands behind his hand. “Oda,” he calls, louder than before, “I want the secret ingredient to that curry recipe.”
Oda
gapes at him, grumbling, “You cheating bastard, we had a /bet/ that you wouldn’t figure it out.”
“Guess I win that too,” Ranpo crows, victorious, shrugging lightly. “As for the silent guy in the back who thinks he’s escaped my notice, I’ll think of something. You owe me.”
Akio
“Guess I win that too,” Ranpo crows, victorious, shrugging lightly. “As for the silent guy in the back who thinks he’s escaped my notice, I’ll think of something. You owe me.”
Akio
snorts. He’s too cocky, now that he’s found some solid ground to stand on. “And what if I /refuse/?”
Shrugging, Ranpo turns his head to an almost unnatural degree, pinning the wannabe hacker with a look. “I’ll assume that you have no respect, and I’ll gladly teach it to you
Shrugging, Ranpo turns his head to an almost unnatural degree, pinning the wannabe hacker with a look. “I’ll assume that you have no respect, and I’ll gladly teach it to you
firsthand. Or I could let some information /slip/ to the wrong people and /surprise!/, next thing you know you got government agents knocking on your door and asking to speak with your wife."
Akio goes pale, swallowing hard.
"Tan from the ring you usually wear on your finger,"
Akio goes pale, swallowing hard.
"Tan from the ring you usually wear on your finger,"
Ranpo informs him smugly, rocking back in his chair again.
Too late, Akio takes his hands back and hides them under the desk. "Fine," he mutters, sounding /reluctant/.
Whatever. That idiot isn't Dazai's responsibility to look after, and if he wants to test Ranpo, then let him
Too late, Akio takes his hands back and hides them under the desk. "Fine," he mutters, sounding /reluctant/.
Whatever. That idiot isn't Dazai's responsibility to look after, and if he wants to test Ranpo, then let him
find out the hard way exactly why no one fucks with him. Every one finds out eventually.
"You got your deals, now tell us where Fedya's hiding," Dazai says, sharp and demanding. The devil may have gotten his dues but now it's time to /pay up/.
Tsking lightly, Ranpo reaches
"You got your deals, now tell us where Fedya's hiding," Dazai says, sharp and demanding. The devil may have gotten his dues but now it's time to /pay up/.
Tsking lightly, Ranpo reaches
for the knife Kouyou had stabbed into the table. He yanks it up, out of the table, moves it over a spot on the map and buries it back into the wood.
"This building, here, overlooks /all/ of those meeting spots in some degree, is in no territory that hasn't already been claimed.
"This building, here, overlooks /all/ of those meeting spots in some degree, is in no territory that hasn't already been claimed.
More importantly, it's connected to the service tunnels. He could've easily been moved there, and it's more than likely that Fyodor is in that building. As far as I recall, it's rented space, not owned by any company in particular, which makes it perfect for his tastes."
Great.
Great.
That's all Dazai needed. A direction to go in, and the beginnings of a plan.
"I go high, you go low?" He offers, shooting a look at Odasaku and Kouyou. He's assuming Kouyou is up to speed on Odasaku's and his unique form of language, or that her boyfriend will bring her up to
"I go high, you go low?" He offers, shooting a look at Odasaku and Kouyou. He's assuming Kouyou is up to speed on Odasaku's and his unique form of language, or that her boyfriend will bring her up to
speed.
Dazai will be bait, making a ruckus near the top of the building, where Fyodor will probably be making his office, while Odasaku and his team scour the service tunnels for Chuuya. It's not foolproof or even that great of a plan, but it's already the middle of the night.
Dazai will be bait, making a ruckus near the top of the building, where Fyodor will probably be making his office, while Odasaku and his team scour the service tunnels for Chuuya. It's not foolproof or even that great of a plan, but it's already the middle of the night.
Chuuya's been missing for /eight/ hours now. He's four past his scheduled dose, and only another eight until he misses another one.
Anything can happen in eight hours. A person can die in eight hours, they can be /tortured/ in eight hours, they can be /broken/ in eight hours.
Anything can happen in eight hours. A person can die in eight hours, they can be /tortured/ in eight hours, they can be /broken/ in eight hours.
The longer they wait, the more likely it is that Chuuya will outlive his /usefulness/, and wind up as a body somewhere in the tunnels.
The longer they wait, the less likely it is that /Chuuya/ will come back at all, and be /okay/.
They need to go work /now/, before Fyodor
The longer they wait, the less likely it is that /Chuuya/ will come back at all, and be /okay/.
They need to go work /now/, before Fyodor
gets it into his head to /move/ him.
If Chuuya is moved, then they might never find him again. Dazai will have lost--/again/-- the only thing he finds worth living for. He will have lost anything he wants and everything he loves.
"Yeah," Odasaku agrees, that friendly mask he
If Chuuya is moved, then they might never find him again. Dazai will have lost--/again/-- the only thing he finds worth living for. He will have lost anything he wants and everything he loves.
"Yeah," Odasaku agrees, that friendly mask he
was wearing while he bantered with Ranpo dropping away. Instead of the friendly and approachable man that likes to provide housing for orphans, now he's the calm and lethal bodyguard, eyes like frozen ice chips. He crosses his arms over his chest, his dark gray silk shirt
tightening over his biceps.
The holsters under his arms are holding twin pairs of pistols.There's a knife strapped to his thigh as well, what looks like the twin to the one Kouyou had.
"Low and mean?" Oda asks, confirmation.
Asking if he should shoot to /kill/.
Lips peeling
The holsters under his arms are holding twin pairs of pistols.There's a knife strapped to his thigh as well, what looks like the twin to the one Kouyou had.
"Low and mean?" Oda asks, confirmation.
Asking if he should shoot to /kill/.
Lips peeling
back from his teeth, Dazai grins, sadistic. "You know it."
As far as he's concerned, everyone in that godforsaken building /deserves/ death for /touching/ Chuuya, for /hurting/ him, for even being /associated/ with the people that took him. They all deserve a /death/ sentence,
As far as he's concerned, everyone in that godforsaken building /deserves/ death for /touching/ Chuuya, for /hurting/ him, for even being /associated/ with the people that took him. They all deserve a /death/ sentence,
and Dazai is not afraid to give them one.
Chuuya might not be the /reason/ he left the mafia for a ‘normal’ life, he might not be the reason he first put down his guns—
But he’s the only thing that makes it all fucking /worth it/, and Dazai will rain /hell/ on anyone who
Chuuya might not be the /reason/ he left the mafia for a ‘normal’ life, he might not be the reason he first put down his guns—
But he’s the only thing that makes it all fucking /worth it/, and Dazai will rain /hell/ on anyone who
tries to take that away from him. He’ll burn this whole damn city to the ground, he doesn’t /care/.
“I’ll call,” he says, pushing off the table and stalking towards the exit. If he’s going to do this, if he’s going to storm into Fyodor’s office, he needs to be prepared. He
“I’ll call,” he says, pushing off the table and stalking towards the exit. If he’s going to do this, if he’s going to storm into Fyodor’s office, he needs to be prepared. He
needs to go home first.
Ranpo watches him go, a thoughtful look in his eye.
(Sure, love might make you stupid— but it’s also one of the few things in this world that will make a man tear down his own limits. A driving force that burns hot and pure and vicious, a force that
Ranpo watches him go, a thoughtful look in his eye.
(Sure, love might make you stupid— but it’s also one of the few things in this world that will make a man tear down his own limits. A driving force that burns hot and pure and vicious, a force that
will make it so /no/ price is too high, no deed too far, no limit unbreakable.
What was the saying? Demons run when a good man goes to war?
Ah, but even the devil himself trembles when a man in love picks up his discarded guns again.)
Dazai has to break quite a few traffic
What was the saying? Demons run when a good man goes to war?
Ah, but even the devil himself trembles when a man in love picks up his discarded guns again.)
Dazai has to break quite a few traffic
rules to get home quickly, but he doesn’t even blink at blowing through /several/ red lights on his way there. If someone dares to pull him over because it—
Well, Yokohama will lose a dedicated policeman.
No one does though, and he’s able to screech to a stop outside the
Well, Yokohama will lose a dedicated policeman.
No one does though, and he’s able to screech to a stop outside the
house without a single delay, throwing the door open so he can storm inside.
Home is—
Empty. Painful.
Over the past month or so, he’s stopped thinking of it as /his/ home, and started thinking of it as /their/ home. His and Chuuya’s.
There were his shoes in the doorway,
Home is—
Empty. Painful.
Over the past month or so, he’s stopped thinking of it as /his/ home, and started thinking of it as /their/ home. His and Chuuya’s.
There were his shoes in the doorway,
joined by a few /much/ smaller pairs, lined up neatly. Chuuya’s jacket draped over the couch, his favorite cereal in the pantry, his /candy/ in the garage, his clothes in the right side of the closet, his pink toothbrush next to Dazai’s. A dozen— a /hundred/— tiny little things
that meant little in themselves, but added up to—
That made a /home/. Made it /their/ home.
Every where he steps as he heads upstairs is littered with signs of /Chuuya/, little pieces of settling in and comfort and /love/.
It all hurts. His chest aches for air that never
That made a /home/. Made it /their/ home.
Every where he steps as he heads upstairs is littered with signs of /Chuuya/, little pieces of settling in and comfort and /love/.
It all hurts. His chest aches for air that never
seems to come, sour and stale. Every beat of his heart feels like it /throbs/, squeezing painfully with earth-shattering pounds.
But the worst thing isn’t the candy or the shoes or the toothbrush. The /hardest/ thing to see are the /pets/.
Usually the dogs greet him as soon
But the worst thing isn’t the candy or the shoes or the toothbrush. The /hardest/ thing to see are the /pets/.
Usually the dogs greet him as soon
as he walks in the door. Yoko is always the most excitable, but Kozo is diligent in giving him the sniff-over before he’s allowed to come further into the house.
Today... Yoko is nowhere to be found, and Kozo perks up when Dazai first comes in but when he’s not joined by someone
Today... Yoko is nowhere to be found, and Kozo perks up when Dazai first comes in but when he’s not joined by someone
smaller and /brighter/, Kozo’s ears start to droop. He doesn’t come closer to greet Dazai,eyes morosely following his path up the stairs. Eventually the dog lets out a heavy sigh and lays his head on his paws again,gaze fixed on the door.
Waiting for someone /else/ to come home.
Waiting for someone /else/ to come home.
When he gets to the bedroom--/their/ bedroom, with /their/ bed, with Chuuya's side and his side, the pillows stacked on Chuuya's side because he's a /cuddler/-- he finds Baki perched on the mountain of pillows and /wailing/.
He's always been loud, and his first reaction tends to
He's always been loud, and his first reaction tends to
/cry/ whenever he wants something or his food bowl gets a little too low for his tastes. The cat takes after Chuuya that way, loud and /needy/ and adorable.
He stops for a moment when Dazai barges in, but quickly starts up his cries when he doesn't see Chuuya follow him. It's
He stops for a moment when Dazai barges in, but quickly starts up his cries when he doesn't see Chuuya follow him. It's
the middle of the night, the time when Baki is /usually/ cuddled up with Chuuya and peacefully snoring away. He's upset.
He knows something is /wrong/.
He's not the only one, either. Yoko is upset too, she's just /quieter/.
Chuuya is slightly messy, especially with his dirty
He knows something is /wrong/.
He's not the only one, either. Yoko is upset too, she's just /quieter/.
Chuuya is slightly messy, especially with his dirty
laundry. It usually means that the clothes that need to be washed end up as a pile in the back of the closet, one that grows until either one of them finally decides to do laundry.
A pile of clothes that Yoko is now curled up on, head on her paws with her ears drooping. Her
A pile of clothes that Yoko is now curled up on, head on her paws with her ears drooping. Her
breathing has the slightest hint of a whine on the exhale, quietly whimpering to herself.
Dazai's heart /aches/ for her, because she doesn't /understand/. He, at least, knows what happened, and can rationalize it, even if it hurts.
Yoko can't do that. All she knows is that
Dazai's heart /aches/ for her, because she doesn't /understand/. He, at least, knows what happened, and can rationalize it, even if it hurts.
Yoko can't do that. All she knows is that
Chuuya left /crying/ and upset, and he hasn't come back for /hours/. It's night time, and the schedule for the past few weeks means that Yoko expects them all to be curled up in bed and asleep.
Everything has changed now.
Dazai joins her in the back of the closet, pushing
Everything has changed now.
Dazai joins her in the back of the closet, pushing
past rows of hanging clothes. Sighing in sympathy, he crouches down beside her, giving her a few reassuring pets on her head.
She doesn't move, letting herself be petted but not searching for more herself.
"Don't worry, girl," he murmurs to her, "I'm gonna bring him back. I'm
She doesn't move, letting herself be petted but not searching for more herself.
"Don't worry, girl," he murmurs to her, "I'm gonna bring him back. I'm
gonna bring him back home to you.”
He /swears/ he will, if it’s the last thing he does. The people and things he loves are /counting/ on him, and he’s not going to let them down.
Not again. Not ever again.
——— +
He /swears/ he will, if it’s the last thing he does. The people and things he loves are /counting/ on him, and he’s not going to let them down.
Not again. Not ever again.
——— +
There's a bad taste in his mouth. Metallic, stinging, like he's bitten down on a metal fork and his teeth are arching from it. Like blood, almost, except no matter how many times he swallows, it never goes away.
His head hurts, so much the pain has passed into dreadful, ominous
His head hurts, so much the pain has passed into dreadful, ominous
pressure that just builds and builds and builds.
At least Chuuya can breathe though. Small mercies, even if it smells /awful/, and he's started to shiver. It's cold in here, freezing all the way to the bone.
The girl-- he wishes he had a better name to refer to her by, but he
At least Chuuya can breathe though. Small mercies, even if it smells /awful/, and he's started to shiver. It's cold in here, freezing all the way to the bone.
The girl-- he wishes he had a better name to refer to her by, but he
doesn't, and every time he's asked, it's lead to.. consequences--has been asking him questions the entire time and he doesn't understand /why/ any of the mundane answers matter, but he answers them anyway.
The searing guilt is better than having water poured over his head again.
The searing guilt is better than having water poured over his head again.
He just wishes he could /warn/ his sisters, because this bitch is /sick/, and obviously focused on /them/, but he's pretty sure he's not going to get the chance.
His head feels like it's too heavy and too light at the same time, crackling with energy. It won't be long now, he
His head feels like it's too heavy and too light at the same time, crackling with energy. It won't be long now, he
thinks. He can almost feel the end coming, the seizure building up momentum at the base of his skull.
The room is still relatively quiet, beyond the sound of him shaking in his chair, the intermittent sounds the girl makes as she drags the metal bucket over the ground to
The room is still relatively quiet, beyond the sound of him shaking in his chair, the intermittent sounds the girl makes as she drags the metal bucket over the ground to
intimidate him, the metallic clinks of tools that he doesn't /want/ to know clicking together, the slosh of water. It's hard to hear much past his own loud breathing in the wet bag.
But he /does/ hear the sound of a phone notification going off with a /ding!/, interrupting
But he /does/ hear the sound of a phone notification going off with a /ding!/, interrupting
whatever question she was about to ask. It's the first sound of the /outside/ world that he's heard so far, and for some reason, it makes a choked sob catch in his throat.
After a while, this place really did start to feel like his grave. Cold, wet, painful and /lonely/,
After a while, this place really did start to feel like his grave. Cold, wet, painful and /lonely/,
like the real world didn't exist anymore. He was in a place of suffering, of /death/, and nothing else existed anymore.
The girl pauses, and there's a hint of footsteps shortly afterward. When she speaks, she sounds farther away than she was before, and she speaks in a language
The girl pauses, and there's a hint of footsteps shortly afterward. When she speaks, she sounds farther away than she was before, and she speaks in a language
he doesn't /know/, but vaguely recognizes from Dazai's phone calls he sometimes overheard.
The memory of it makes him miserable and angry at once. Miserable, because his heart /still/ aches from their fight earlier and he stills feel guilty for going behind Dazai's back like he
The memory of it makes him miserable and angry at once. Miserable, because his heart /still/ aches from their fight earlier and he stills feel guilty for going behind Dazai's back like he
did, still feels guilty for stomping on his trust like that--
But /furious/, because if /this/ was a possibility, if winding up in this exact situation was something that always a possibility, then he should've /known/. If he was going to get /hurt/ because of Dazai, then he
But /furious/, because if /this/ was a possibility, if winding up in this exact situation was something that always a possibility, then he should've /known/. If he was going to get /hurt/ because of Dazai, then he
should've known. It's not fucking /fair/ that he has to suffer because Dazai is--
Well, because of who Dazai /is/.
If he had known this was a possibility...
Maybe he wouldn't have stayed. Maybe he would've chosen safety over his feelings. Maybe he would've chosen his /family/
Well, because of who Dazai /is/.
If he had known this was a possibility...
Maybe he wouldn't have stayed. Maybe he would've chosen safety over his feelings. Maybe he would've chosen his /family/
over his relationship.
It's too fucking late now though, and because of /that/, because he wasn't given a /choice/, wasn't given a /chance/, there's /rage/ boiling behind the misery.
Honestly, /fuck/ Dazai.
The conversation his /torturer/ is having ends on a sharp, assenting
It's too fucking late now though, and because of /that/, because he wasn't given a /choice/, wasn't given a /chance/, there's /rage/ boiling behind the misery.
Honestly, /fuck/ Dazai.
The conversation his /torturer/ is having ends on a sharp, assenting
noise from her, followed by the sound of a phone being flipped shut. Must be a burner phone, because not many people Chuuya knows still have a flip phone in this day and age.
"It seems to be your lucky day," the girl sighs, sounding frustrated. This time, her footsteps are loud
"It seems to be your lucky day," the girl sighs, sounding frustrated. This time, her footsteps are loud
and /aggressive/, like she's angry over something and stomping back over to him.
Personally, Chuuya would go on record to say this is probably one of his /worst/ days, but that's a matter of perspective, he guesses. It's not like he's being asked either, so he very /wisely/
Personally, Chuuya would go on record to say this is probably one of his /worst/ days, but that's a matter of perspective, he guesses. It's not like he's being asked either, so he very /wisely/
keeps his opinion to himself.
It's a good thing too, because in the /next/ moment, there's something sharp and cold being pressed to his arm, and he's automatically tensing, thinking this is it, this is how it ends, that's a /knife/ right against my wrists, it's all over--
The
It's a good thing too, because in the /next/ moment, there's something sharp and cold being pressed to his arm, and he's automatically tensing, thinking this is it, this is how it ends, that's a /knife/ right against my wrists, it's all over--
The
ropes holding his hands in place are sliced off, and he almost falls over when his arms flop back to his sides, completely numb from restricted blood flow.
What? What's going on? Why is he being untied? Don't they only let people go when they're about to /kill/ them? That's what
What? What's going on? Why is he being untied? Don't they only let people go when they're about to /kill/ them? That's what
happens in the /movies/, and that's really all he has to go on right now, so.
"Move it," the girl snaps at him, one of her hands wrapping around Chuuya's upper arm and yanking him along.
She must be taller than him or she walks /very/ quickly, because she practically drags him
"Move it," the girl snaps at him, one of her hands wrapping around Chuuya's upper arm and yanking him along.
She must be taller than him or she walks /very/ quickly, because she practically drags him
out of the room. Chuuya has no choice but to stumble after her, blind and freezing and near-deaf, arms numb with blood restriction and his feet so cold he can barely feel them, heart pounding in his throat.
"Where are we going?" He croaks, daring to speak up. It burns to speak,
"Where are we going?" He croaks, daring to speak up. It burns to speak,
throat sore from all the water forced down his nose, but it's an oversight compared to the throbbing in his temples.
There's a disapproving tsk, another pull on his arm. "You're going to meet someone /very/ important. I suggest you watch your manners, or I will beat them back
There's a disapproving tsk, another pull on his arm. "You're going to meet someone /very/ important. I suggest you watch your manners, or I will beat them back
into you."
Sure. Chuuya's a nice guy, a /reasonable/ guy, he has no reason to be /rude/. Though, he doesn't want to meet 'someone important' if he had a say in it. He's had enough of 'important people' and he just wants to go /home/.
"Stairs," is his only quick warning before
Sure. Chuuya's a nice guy, a /reasonable/ guy, he has no reason to be /rude/. Though, he doesn't want to meet 'someone important' if he had a say in it. He's had enough of 'important people' and he just wants to go /home/.
"Stairs," is his only quick warning before
his shoe hits a concrete step and he nearly falls on his face. Only her hand on his arm keeps him upright, and she's /surprisingly/ strong as she hauls him up the stairs.
He has to scramble to keep up, and it's /hard/ to navigate stairs when he can't see them and he doesn't have
He has to scramble to keep up, and it's /hard/ to navigate stairs when he can't see them and he doesn't have
a handrail to hold on to, and he's not allowed to take them at his own pace, but he somehow manages to keep himself from face planting and giving himself a broken nose on top of everything else.
He's not sure how long the stairs are, or the hallway that comes after them, but he
He's not sure how long the stairs are, or the hallway that comes after them, but he
recognizes the sound of an elevator being called and the sound of the doors opening with a mechanical whir.
So they're going upstairs? To a different part of the building? He would /guess/ that there's a secret underground entrance somewhere, because they probably don't want to
So they're going upstairs? To a different part of the building? He would /guess/ that there's a secret underground entrance somewhere, because they probably don't want to
/flaunt/ that they have an underground torture room. At least, that's what he's /assuming/, but he only has movies and /novels/ to go off of, so. He could be wrong.
He just hopes the bag gets taken off his head soon, because it's still wet and he has to lean forward to make sure
He just hopes the bag gets taken off his head soon, because it's still wet and he has to lean forward to make sure
it doesn't stick to his mouth and nose, so that he can breathe. He can't see a damn thing, and being yanked around while he's defenseless makes him /nervous/.
Now that he's untied though, he could fight. He's not sure he could /win/, considering how off-balance he is and how
Now that he's untied though, he could fight. He's not sure he could /win/, considering how off-balance he is and how
numb his hands are but--
He could. Maybe it'd land him nowhere except in more pain, but /fuck/. Is he really going to just stand here and take being /tortured/ when he has the ability to fight? When his hands were already tied when he woke up is a different story, but now...
He could. Maybe it'd land him nowhere except in more pain, but /fuck/. Is he really going to just stand here and take being /tortured/ when he has the ability to fight? When his hands were already tied when he woke up is a different story, but now...
He can /do/ something about it. /Wants/ to do something about it, because the idea of going down /nicely/, without a fight, makes him want to bare his teeth. This is the /reason/ he became a Judo champion, and as soon as he gets a little more feeling back into his hands, he's
/going/ to do something.
It's amazing, how much /life/ and fight he can get back, now that he's up and moving.
The elevator lurches upwards,and he tries to count the floors by how long the ascent takes, subtly flexing his fingers. They're so cold that it hurts to move it hands
It's amazing, how much /life/ and fight he can get back, now that he's up and moving.
The elevator lurches upwards,and he tries to count the floors by how long the ascent takes, subtly flexing his fingers. They're so cold that it hurts to move it hands
because of how stiff they are, but it's warmer up here and the more he moves them, the easier it gets.
He does the same with his toes in his soaked sneakers, wiggling them and trying to get feeling back into them.
If the girl tries to shove him into another torture room or
He does the same with his toes in his soaked sneakers, wiggling them and trying to get feeling back into them.
If the girl tries to shove him into another torture room or
tries to tie him up again, or anything along those lines, he's going down /swinging/.
It's a long ride up to the top, punctuated hilariously by the serene sounds of elevator music playing faintly in the background. The girl is quiet again, hand bruisingly tight on his arm but
It's a long ride up to the top, punctuated hilariously by the serene sounds of elevator music playing faintly in the background. The girl is quiet again, hand bruisingly tight on his arm but
otherwise quiet. That feels like an /ominous/ sign, like she's preparing herself for the next series of events.
Like /he/ should be preparing himself.
Then the elevator slows to a stop with a too-cheery /ding!/ and he tenses, fully expecting to be thrown out of the elevator or
Like /he/ should be preparing himself.
Then the elevator slows to a stop with a too-cheery /ding!/ and he tenses, fully expecting to be thrown out of the elevator or
for someone to reach /in/ and drag him out, anything--
But nothing happens except for the girl stepping forward herself and taking Chuuya with her.
Outside the elevator is /silence/. Pure utter silence that makes their every step echo too loudly, like it's a room full of
But nothing happens except for the girl stepping forward herself and taking Chuuya with her.
Outside the elevator is /silence/. Pure utter silence that makes their every step echo too loudly, like it's a room full of
/nothing/.
Better a room full of nothing than a room full of /cruel/ things, right? Should this be a good sign? Should he be /glad/ that he doesn't hear anything or anyone? Not everyone is as /quiet/ as the girl is, and he's straining his ears so hard his head gives a twinge of
Better a room full of nothing than a room full of /cruel/ things, right? Should this be a good sign? Should he be /glad/ that he doesn't hear anything or anyone? Not everyone is as /quiet/ as the girl is, and he's straining his ears so hard his head gives a twinge of
pain in protest, but he can't hear anyone else even breathing.
It sounds like they're alone again.
He feels the girl beside him lurch forward, reaching forward with her other arm, and then the sound of doors opening.
Before he can react, he's being /shoved/ forward, damn near
It sounds like they're alone again.
He feels the girl beside him lurch forward, reaching forward with her other arm, and then the sound of doors opening.
Before he can react, he's being /shoved/ forward, damn near
tossed on his /face/, and he yelps. His hands connect with the floor painfully, barely able to catch himself. Sharp pain rockets up his right wrist, arm nearly collapsing under his own weight.
Behind him, the doors shut again with a resounding slam.
He scrambles upward, right
Behind him, the doors shut again with a resounding slam.
He scrambles upward, right
arm held to his chest as he struggles to get back to his feet. His heart is pounding sickeningly in his chest, and his thoughts are /racing/, wondering where the next touch is coming from, wondering where the pain is going to come from, bracing himself.
Nothing happens, and he's
Nothing happens, and he's
able to get to his feet without incident.
"You can take that off now," someone says, further in the room. The voice is /deeper/, more fluent in Japanese,the accent buried deeper. It's /familiar/, someone he's heard twice before.
Three times now. /Fyodor/.
Reaching up, Chuuya
"You can take that off now," someone says, further in the room. The voice is /deeper/, more fluent in Japanese,the accent buried deeper. It's /familiar/, someone he's heard twice before.
Three times now. /Fyodor/.
Reaching up, Chuuya
grabs the wet cloth over his head and yanks it off. It feels disgusting against his hands, water dripping down his hands and wrists. His hair is dragged along with it, tangled, as he pulls it off completely.
Light bursts in his eyes, bright enough to make him wince and squint.
Light bursts in his eyes, bright enough to make him wince and squint.
The relief of being able to /see/ almost makes him choke again, blinking rapidly to clear the too-bright stars from his eyes.
The cloth bag drops to the floor with a disgustingly wet slap.
When his vision finally clears, thirty seconds of agonizing terror where he's /still/
The cloth bag drops to the floor with a disgustingly wet slap.
When his vision finally clears, thirty seconds of agonizing terror where he's /still/
helpless, waiting for the /catch/, the sight he's greeted with is a well-furnished luxurious office, decked out in red's and blacks. The very picture of wealth and power, and at the head of it all, reclined confidently at a large desk, is Fyodor Dostoevsky himself, all sharp
smile and devils eyes, dark and dangerous.
"I underestimated you, Nakahara Chuuya," he greets, like that /means/ something. He takes a bottle perched on the edge of his desk, pulling out two shot glasses and placing them in front of him. Opening the bottle, he pours some of the
"I underestimated you, Nakahara Chuuya," he greets, like that /means/ something. He takes a bottle perched on the edge of his desk, pulling out two shot glasses and placing them in front of him. Opening the bottle, he pours some of the
clear liquid in each glass, an exact equal amount in each one. "Drink?"
It's probably a /bad/ idea to take a drink from someone who had him /waterboarded/,but Chuuya could /use/ one. He comes closer slowly, eyeing Fyodor warily.
He's not sure what he means by /underestimating/
It's probably a /bad/ idea to take a drink from someone who had him /waterboarded/,but Chuuya could /use/ one. He comes closer slowly, eyeing Fyodor warily.
He's not sure what he means by /underestimating/
him, considering Chuuya spilled every little secret and piece of information he could come up with, but what does he know. Maybe he knew more than Fyodor expected him to.
He sinks into one of the offered chairs, grimacing slightly when his wet pants stick to his skin and squelch
He sinks into one of the offered chairs, grimacing slightly when his wet pants stick to his skin and squelch
disgustingly underneath him as he sits.
A shotglass is slid over the table at him, and Chuuya squints at it suspiciously. He saw it poured, and he saw the clean glasses, but he's not /completely/ sure if the alcohol can be trusted.
As if sensing his distrust, Fyodor raises his
A shotglass is slid over the table at him, and Chuuya squints at it suspiciously. He saw it poured, and he saw the clean glasses, but he's not /completely/ sure if the alcohol can be trusted.
As if sensing his distrust, Fyodor raises his
own glass with a knowing smirk, and swallows it in one gulp.
And,well--
Chuuya isn't /supposed/ to be drinking right now. It's dangerous on /principle/ and he's not supposed to mix alcohol with his meds but--
Fuck it, right? He doesn't want to die /completely/ sober, and it's
And,well--
Chuuya isn't /supposed/ to be drinking right now. It's dangerous on /principle/ and he's not supposed to mix alcohol with his meds but--
Fuck it, right? He doesn't want to die /completely/ sober, and it's
not like anyone is /looking/ for him, and it's not like he can fight his way out of the entire building. He just /can't/, and you know, maybe he doesn't /deserve/ to after spilling all of his family's secrets like they were candy.
Sighing, he leans forward and takes the glass.
Sighing, he leans forward and takes the glass.
He gives it a cursory sniff, making a face at how strong it smells. Not surprising that Fyodor has the /good/ stuff.
Holding his breath, he downs it in two gulps. It burns going down, and hits his empty stomach hard. He's still not sure what time it is, but from what he can see
Holding his breath, he downs it in two gulps. It burns going down, and hits his empty stomach hard. He's still not sure what time it is, but from what he can see
of the sky through the windows, it's dark. Judging by that and the rumbling of his stomach, it's /late/. Way past dinner time, probably about the time he'd be curled up in bed with Daz--
Swallowing hard, wishing he had something to chase it with, he dares to ask, "Why did you
Swallowing hard, wishing he had something to chase it with, he dares to ask, "Why did you
take me?"
He's expecting...
Well, /hopefully/, a damn classic evil-villain monologue, where Fyodor lays out all his plans and gloats about his victory, all that nonsense. Or he'll laugh in Chuuya's face before telling him what he's about to do with him. That sort of thing.
He's expecting...
Well, /hopefully/, a damn classic evil-villain monologue, where Fyodor lays out all his plans and gloats about his victory, all that nonsense. Or he'll laugh in Chuuya's face before telling him what he's about to do with him. That sort of thing.
He's not expecting for Fyodor to lean back in his chair with a heavy sigh as he pours himself another drink. Waving the bottle at Chuuya, he offers him another shot.
This one,he declines, already feeling uncomfortable heat roiling in his stomach.
"You're a special man, Chuuya,"
This one,he declines, already feeling uncomfortable heat roiling in his stomach.
"You're a special man, Chuuya,"
he says, swirling the vodka inside the glass. "Dazai, I can handle. Even the Port Mafia, I was prepared for. But the Armed Detective Agency? I wonder what makes /you/ so special that you can get nearly the entire city up in arms over /you/."
The speech makes his breath catch.
The speech makes his breath catch.
Because--
He didn't think he was /unloved/, but neither of his sisters knew where he is, and Dazai either didn't /care/ or he didn't know he was missing, and he just--
He just didn't /know/ that anyone was coming to look for him. He'd convinced himself that no one was coming,
He didn't think he was /unloved/, but neither of his sisters knew where he is, and Dazai either didn't /care/ or he didn't know he was missing, and he just--
He just didn't /know/ that anyone was coming to look for him. He'd convinced himself that no one was coming,
that he was /alone/. That by the time anyone realized what was happening, it’d be too late for him.
The question slips out of him unconsciously, shock and relief too much to hold back entirely. “Dazai’s coming?”
A dark eyebrow, perfectly shaped, arches in response. “Did you
The question slips out of him unconsciously, shock and relief too much to hold back entirely. “Dazai’s coming?”
A dark eyebrow, perfectly shaped, arches in response. “Did you
think he wouldn’t?”
Chuuya doesn’t answer, the lingering taste of alcohol turning sour on his tongue, because—
Because he really thought he /wouldn’t/. Not necessarily because he thought Dazai was a bad person, or that he wouldn’t care, but because Chuuya had broken his trust
Chuuya doesn’t answer, the lingering taste of alcohol turning sour on his tongue, because—
Because he really thought he /wouldn’t/. Not necessarily because he thought Dazai was a bad person, or that he wouldn’t care, but because Chuuya had broken his trust
so badly that he wouldn’t /save/ him. That this was sick karma for what Chuuya did— for what both of them did— and that he deserved this.
“Poor Dazai,” Fyodor sighs, shaking his head in disapproval, “No one ever has any /faith/ in that man. They’re always waiting for a reason
“Poor Dazai,” Fyodor sighs, shaking his head in disapproval, “No one ever has any /faith/ in that man. They’re always waiting for a reason
to suspect the knife behind his back. I barely had to say /anything/ to you to get you believe that... what was it? He was a serial killer that had targeted you? Very disappointing.”
Guilt drips down Chuuya’s spine, ice cold. It hurts because it’s /true/. It only took a fifteen
Guilt drips down Chuuya’s spine, ice cold. It hurts because it’s /true/. It only took a fifteen
minute conversation for him to be questioning everything he knew about Dazai. Everything that Dazai has /showed/ him and told him, every caring act suddenly in question.
“Why are you telling me this?” Chuuya asks, not addressing that jab. “If Dazai’s coming for me then why are
“Why are you telling me this?” Chuuya asks, not addressing that jab. “If Dazai’s coming for me then why are
we having a conversation instead of—“
He cuts himself off there because he /doesn’t/ want to give Fyodor the idea of killing him, or even remind him that that is an option. Judging by the way his sharp smile widens, though, he already knows.
“This is our last chance at
He cuts himself off there because he /doesn’t/ want to give Fyodor the idea of killing him, or even remind him that that is an option. Judging by the way his sharp smile widens, though, he already knows.
“This is our last chance at
a conversation, figured I’d make the most of it,” Fyodor says, folding his hands over his stomach. Despite everything, there’s a calm, authoritative aura radiating from him.
Chuuya goes cold, his next breath catching in his throat. “Are you gonna—?”
He can’t even /say/ it.
Chuuya goes cold, his next breath catching in his throat. “Are you gonna—?”
He can’t even /say/ it.
When he was hopeless and convinced that there was nothing in store for him but /pain/, the idea of death was a relief. It was better than staying down there with the girl— who has disappeared now, nowhere to be seen— and he almost /wanted/ it.
But now he has /hope/, and he
But now he has /hope/, and he
doesn’t want to /actually/ die. He wants to go /home/, he wants—
He wants to see Dazai again. Things are complicated now and it hurts but he wants to see him again. Hug him, hold him, kiss him.
He’s not /ready/.
“Are you asking if I’m going to kill you?”
Chuuya stares at
He wants to see Dazai again. Things are complicated now and it hurts but he wants to see him again. Hug him, hold him, kiss him.
He’s not /ready/.
“Are you asking if I’m going to kill you?”
Chuuya stares at
him, trying not to show the fear that is rapidly rising in him.
“Tempting, but no. While the idea of teaching Dazai a lesson is /appealing/, I’m not willing to have all the work I’ve done here destroyed. I didn’t anticipate the Agency getting involved, and that’s a mistake I
“Tempting, but no. While the idea of teaching Dazai a lesson is /appealing/, I’m not willing to have all the work I’ve done here destroyed. I didn’t anticipate the Agency getting involved, and that’s a mistake I
can’t fix. So, lucky day for you. You get to go home today.”
Chuuya collapses backward in his seat, relief rushing through him so strongly he feels lightheaded from it.
He gets to go /home/. He gets to be /okay/, gets to see another sunrise and see Dazai again. See his sisters
Chuuya collapses backward in his seat, relief rushing through him so strongly he feels lightheaded from it.
He gets to go /home/. He gets to be /okay/, gets to see another sunrise and see Dazai again. See his sisters
again, see /Yoko/ and Baki again. See all his friends again.
Something occurs to him then. “Then why did you say that this is going to be our last chance at conversation? Not that I /want/ to talk to you, but if you’re still going to be working with Dazai then...?”
There’s a
Something occurs to him then. “Then why did you say that this is going to be our last chance at conversation? Not that I /want/ to talk to you, but if you’re still going to be working with Dazai then...?”
There’s a
sparkle in his eyes that makes Chuuya think he /finally/ asked the right question. “Considering just how many people I upset with this move, I’ll be going back home. I’ve done enough work here, and it’s time for my daughter to step up.”
Chuuya blinks. “You have a /daughter/?”
Chuuya blinks. “You have a /daughter/?”
“Oh yes. You’ve met, though I don’t believe you liked her. She has that affect on some people.”
Oh. It clicks for him then. The similar accents, the stilted Japanese, the /questions/, the phone call.
It’s /her/, the girl who was bucket-happy with the water boarding. What a
Oh. It clicks for him then. The similar accents, the stilted Japanese, the /questions/, the phone call.
It’s /her/, the girl who was bucket-happy with the water boarding. What a
/lovely/ family.
Of course, now that he knows Fyodor isn’t going to hurt or seriously maim him, Chuuya starts to get a little /bold/. His head is still pounding and it makes him /irritable/. “Isn’t that kind of cowardly? Leaving your daughter to deal with the fallout of what
Of course, now that he knows Fyodor isn’t going to hurt or seriously maim him, Chuuya starts to get a little /bold/. His head is still pounding and it makes him /irritable/. “Isn’t that kind of cowardly? Leaving your daughter to deal with the fallout of what
/you/ did. Don’t you have a wife or something? Won’t /she/ be pissed that you’re putting her in danger?”
Fyodor scoffs, smile growing with amusement. He reaches up, brushing his black hair away from his face. The silver rings on his fingers shine in the light of the overhead
Fyodor scoffs, smile growing with amusement. He reaches up, brushing his black hair away from his face. The silver rings on his fingers shine in the light of the overhead
lamps. “Trust me, Nika is /more/ than capable of handling herself. She’s been /dying/ to get her hands on Dazai. More importantly, everyone knows that the Mafia has a soft spot for children.”
She’s a /child/? She can’t be much younger than himself, with how tall and strong she
She’s a /child/? She can’t be much younger than himself, with how tall and strong she
was, but he can’t imagine any sort of /child/ doing /any/ of the things she did to him, let alone being in charge of a /gang/. That’s—
That’s /bad parenting/.
“No wife though, if you’re interested,” Fyodor continues, raking his eyes down Chuuya’s soaked and disheveled form
That’s /bad parenting/.
“No wife though, if you’re interested,” Fyodor continues, raking his eyes down Chuuya’s soaked and disheveled form
in a blatantly appraising look that makes him feel /dirty/.
“Then what about her /mom/? Why are you letting a /kid/ do... all of that stuff? I mean, don’t you /care/?”
Another tsk, a disapproving shake of his head. “Of course I care. But we aren’t /soft/ like you. Power is in
“Then what about her /mom/? Why are you letting a /kid/ do... all of that stuff? I mean, don’t you /care/?”
Another tsk, a disapproving shake of his head. “Of course I care. But we aren’t /soft/ like you. Power is in
her /blood/. It’s her birthright, and the thing she’s been working towards since the day her mother died.”
Chuuya /can’t/ wrap his head around that, but he supposes he’s in no position to talk morals with a criminal who kidnapped and tortured him. A conversation like that won’t
Chuuya /can’t/ wrap his head around that, but he supposes he’s in no position to talk morals with a criminal who kidnapped and tortured him. A conversation like that won’t
end well in an agreement or end well for him at all.
Sure,Fyodor might’ve said he wouldn’t kill /him/,but he’s mentioned nothing about his /sisters/, so he should play nice until he can /warn/ them.
“Sorry for your loss,” he mutters, dipping his head. He wants this conversation
Sure,Fyodor might’ve said he wouldn’t kill /him/,but he’s mentioned nothing about his /sisters/, so he should play nice until he can /warn/ them.
“Sorry for your loss,” he mutters, dipping his head. He wants this conversation
to be over with. Let Fyodor say what he wants to say, and then Chuuya will...
Walk outside and find a public phone, or something. He doesn’t have his, and he doesn’t know where he’s at either.
“Yes, it was very tragic. Killed by one of my rivals back in Moscow. Nika was very
Walk outside and find a public phone, or something. He doesn’t have his, and he doesn’t know where he’s at either.
“Yes, it was very tragic. Killed by one of my rivals back in Moscow. Nika was very
young. Just a little girl, so precious,” Fyodor says, pouring himself /another/ drink and raising it up in a silent salute before he downs it. His eyes are still razor sharp and intent, even though he’s taken three shots—that Chuuya has seen— in the span of ten minutes. He must
have a hell of an alcohol tolerance.
“I’m sorry,” Chuuya repeats, unsure of what else to /say/. He’s not /glad/ that anyone died, and he can certainly empathize with the woman, but marrying a crime boss comes with it’s risks. Certainly— /hopefully/— she knew that.
(The irony
“I’m sorry,” Chuuya repeats, unsure of what else to /say/. He’s not /glad/ that anyone died, and he can certainly empathize with the woman, but marrying a crime boss comes with it’s risks. Certainly— /hopefully/— she knew that.
(The irony
of /that/ line of thinking won’t hit him until later, when he’s lounging in an outdoor garden in France, only a mile away from a prestigious winery.)
“Oh, don’t be,” the Russian boss says, waving a hand with a charming smile. “She knew the risks. She knew what would happen if
“Oh, don’t be,” the Russian boss says, waving a hand with a charming smile. “She knew the risks. She knew what would happen if
her crime was discovered.”
The confusion must be written all over his face, because Fyodor continues with an impish, self-satisfied grin, “Annika was killed by her husband when he discovered that the daughter he had been raising was not his blood, but /mine/.”
Oh. That’s...
The confusion must be written all over his face, because Fyodor continues with an impish, self-satisfied grin, “Annika was killed by her husband when he discovered that the daughter he had been raising was not his blood, but /mine/.”
Oh. That’s...
That’s certainly /interesting/. He’s not sure if /death/ is the acceptable punishment for cheating on your husband and having a child with another man but—
What does Chuuya know? He’s not /Russian/, he’s not rich or powerful, he’s not a gang boss. He’s just a normal, ordinary
What does Chuuya know? He’s not /Russian/, he’s not rich or powerful, he’s not a gang boss. He’s just a normal, ordinary
guy who’s first reaction probably wouldn’t be /murder/, and instead would be...
Couples therapy? Divorce? Split custody arrangements?
“Right. That’s, uh... unfortunate,” Chuuya draws out, wondering what the /fuck/ he’s supposed to say to that.
Wondering what the hell he’s
Couples therapy? Divorce? Split custody arrangements?
“Right. That’s, uh... unfortunate,” Chuuya draws out, wondering what the /fuck/ he’s supposed to say to that.
Wondering what the hell he’s
supposed to say to /any/ of this, because he certainly wasn’t expecting a damn /conversation/ with his kidnapper. Is he supposed to be nice or just... sit here awkwardly?
“You must understand that if you tell Dazai /any/ of this, Nika will be /very/ upset. She’s not... very
“You must understand that if you tell Dazai /any/ of this, Nika will be /very/ upset. She’s not... very
understanding when it comes to things like this.”
Chuuya passes a hand over his face, confused as hell and on the verge of breaking into tears. “Why are you even telling me this if you’re just gonna tell me not to tell anyone? That doesn’t make any sense.”
He feels like a
Chuuya passes a hand over his face, confused as hell and on the verge of breaking into tears. “Why are you even telling me this if you’re just gonna tell me not to tell anyone? That doesn’t make any sense.”
He feels like a
rat in a /cage/, making his way through the maze to get the food and hoping he doesn’t get /shocked/ for it.
“Simple, solnyshko— I want to see how well you /obey/. You must be /very/ good for Dazai to be so infatuated with you,” is his answer, one that automatically makes his
“Simple, solnyshko— I want to see how well you /obey/. You must be /very/ good for Dazai to be so infatuated with you,” is his answer, one that automatically makes his
nose wrinkle in response. The idea of Fyodor hitting on him might’ve been appealing /before/ but now it’s /not/. Now it makes him feel /cornered/, because he obviously can’t /tell/ the man to go take a dive off a balcony.
“Call it an insurance policy. You talk, Nika comes to
“Call it an insurance policy. You talk, Nika comes to
say hello.”
Right. That makes sense. Fine. That’s okay.
Fyodor sighs when he doesn’t go to answer, pouring himself /another/ drink. The dark purple of his shirt matches the dark color of his eyes. “You aren’t very talkative, are you?”
“Somehow,” Chuuya says, eyeing him, “I’m
Right. That makes sense. Fine. That’s okay.
Fyodor sighs when he doesn’t go to answer, pouring himself /another/ drink. The dark purple of his shirt matches the dark color of his eyes. “You aren’t very talkative, are you?”
“Somehow,” Chuuya says, eyeing him, “I’m
not really feeling up for conversation.”
“Understandable— but at least make it /entertaining/ while we wait,” Fyodor responds, tone thick with disappointment. He sounds like a lecturing professor, sitting down with an antisocial student. Way too casual for /this/ kind of
“Understandable— but at least make it /entertaining/ while we wait,” Fyodor responds, tone thick with disappointment. He sounds like a lecturing professor, sitting down with an antisocial student. Way too casual for /this/ kind of
situation.
“Wait for what?”
Just then, there’s /commotion/ outside the door Chuuya came in through, something that sounds like /shouting/ and a muffled gunshot. The noise makes him flinch, heart jumping in his chest.
Fyodor doesn’t seem surprised, head tilting. “For him.”
“Wait for what?”
Just then, there’s /commotion/ outside the door Chuuya came in through, something that sounds like /shouting/ and a muffled gunshot. The noise makes him flinch, heart jumping in his chest.
Fyodor doesn’t seem surprised, head tilting. “For him.”
/Dazai/. Dazai’s /here/, he has to be here, he /came/ for him.
Heart pounding for a whole different reason, Chuuya twists in his seat to watch the door with wide eyes. Even though the noise outside is getting /louder/, and should be scary considering all he went through—
He
Heart pounding for a whole different reason, Chuuya twists in his seat to watch the door with wide eyes. Even though the noise outside is getting /louder/, and should be scary considering all he went through—
He
doesnt feel anything except /relief/, so visceral and overwhelming that tears are welling up in his eyes from it. The feeling of water on his face when they spill over makes a reactionary twinge of fear spark through him, but it’s easily ignored.
(For now.)
The noise outside
(For now.)
The noise outside
come to a sharp crescendo, with the sound of something that sounds like /glass/ being shattered.
After that, it stops completely, and Chuuya’s entire being feels like it’s hanging in the resulting silence, focus zeroed in on the door, vibrating with anticipation—
The door
After that, it stops completely, and Chuuya’s entire being feels like it’s hanging in the resulting silence, focus zeroed in on the door, vibrating with anticipation—
The door
opens with a /slam/, kicked in by one of the knee-high boots that Dazai is wearing. They look heavy, each step resoundingly loud as he stalks into the office.
/Finally/. The end is in sight.
Another round of tears is started, and these ones Chuuya has to reach up and wipe
/Finally/. The end is in sight.
Another round of tears is started, and these ones Chuuya has to reach up and wipe
away because the feeling of water trickling down his face makes him /itch/, in a bad way.
Dazai must not have been expecting him to be here, because his expression is tight with fury when he enters, black coat flaring behind him, and when his eyes find Chuuya in his seat—
Dazai must not have been expecting him to be here, because his expression is tight with fury when he enters, black coat flaring behind him, and when his eyes find Chuuya in his seat—
They widen with surprise, mouth going slack as he takes him in. He looks /shocked/, relieved, concerned, so many emotions flashing over his face so quickly that Chuuya can’t keep up.
Just as quickly, his eyes are hardening again, turning flat black with anger, gaze snapping up
Just as quickly, his eyes are hardening again, turning flat black with anger, gaze snapping up
to find Fyodor behind him.
“I thought you knew better than to touch what belongs to /me/,” he hisses, half-feral, teeth sharp and possessive. He’s holding a pair of guns, one in each hand.
Chuuya’s never seen a /real/ gun before. He’s only seen them in the movies and the way
“I thought you knew better than to touch what belongs to /me/,” he hisses, half-feral, teeth sharp and possessive. He’s holding a pair of guns, one in each hand.
Chuuya’s never seen a /real/ gun before. He’s only seen them in the movies and the way
the black metal seems to eat all the light to leave a dark, lethal hole, it's--
It's /menacing/. More than the vicious tone in Dazai's voice, the dark possession in his words, more than the lingering smell of top-shelf vodka and oiled ropes.
For the first time, Chuuya is
It's /menacing/. More than the vicious tone in Dazai's voice, the dark possession in his words, more than the lingering smell of top-shelf vodka and oiled ropes.
For the first time, Chuuya is
seeing who Dazai /really/ is. What he is.
Not the charming father or the suave boyfriend, or the doting and caring partner. Not any of those other facets of Dazai that he has seen and known and /loved/.
This is not Dazai. This is the /Demon Prodigy/, laced and booted for war,
Not the charming father or the suave boyfriend, or the doting and caring partner. Not any of those other facets of Dazai that he has seen and known and /loved/.
This is not Dazai. This is the /Demon Prodigy/, laced and booted for war,
dangerous. The type of man that can, will and /has/ killed someone, and might again. The type of man that causes whispers of dread and fear in even powerful men.
The type of man that-- despite everything that happened, all the secrets and hurt feelings and mistakes, despite all
The type of man that-- despite everything that happened, all the secrets and hurt feelings and mistakes, despite all
the mistakes and thelittle pieces of themselves that have been broken and damaged,despite the fact that Chuuya probably /shouldn't/--
Despite everything,he is /still/ the man that Chuuya goes to,when he slides one gun into a holster under the opposite arm and holds out his hand.
Despite everything,he is /still/ the man that Chuuya goes to,when he slides one gun into a holster under the opposite arm and holds out his hand.
Pushing out of his chair feels as natural as breathing, stumbling towards him is inevitable as gravity. Chuuya doesn't /care/ about those other things right now. He can be upset later, but right now, he wants /Dazai/ and he wants to go home.
"Oh, come in, I'm not busy," is
"Oh, come in, I'm not busy," is
Fyodor's response, followed by a slight shuffle of movement behind Chuuya.
In a flash,the gun in Dazai's non-dominant hand is coming up, pointed unerringly at Fyodor.
Chuuya freezes, caught between fear and the urge to drop to the floor and cover his head, thinking frantically
In a flash,the gun in Dazai's non-dominant hand is coming up, pointed unerringly at Fyodor.
Chuuya freezes, caught between fear and the urge to drop to the floor and cover his head, thinking frantically
about what action is the /best/ one to keep himself safe, if he should duck or dodge or run or just /freeze/—
Dazai’s fingers curl at him, beckoning, encouraging him forward. Relieved at being given /directions/, Chuuya creeps forward again, shivers running up and down the
Dazai’s fingers curl at him, beckoning, encouraging him forward. Relieved at being given /directions/, Chuuya creeps forward again, shivers running up and down the
length of his spine.
“Oh, relax, Dazai. I’ve been nothing but /cordial/ to your little pet and I’m even giving him back to you without a scratch on him. I just wanted to /talk/ with him,” Fyodor chides, followed by the sound of glass clinking as he pours himself another drink.
“Oh, relax, Dazai. I’ve been nothing but /cordial/ to your little pet and I’m even giving him back to you without a scratch on him. I just wanted to /talk/ with him,” Fyodor chides, followed by the sound of glass clinking as he pours himself another drink.
The idea of what happened to him being considered /nothing/, like it could’ve been /worse/ so he has no right to feel upset or affected by it, like they’re both /overreacting/, makes a trembling keen rise up in Chuuya’s throat.
It’s not /nothing/. It was /awful/.
The stroke of
It’s not /nothing/. It was /awful/.
The stroke of
Dazai’s knuckles over his cheek, achingly gentle, when Chuuya finally stumbles close enough makes the noise fade away before he can release it.
Falling into him is easy, and Dazai is warm and reassuringly solid as he wraps his arms around his waist and buries his face in his
Falling into him is easy, and Dazai is warm and reassuringly solid as he wraps his arms around his waist and buries his face in his
chest.
Fingers slide gently down his neck and over his shoulder, gripping him gently and tugging him back at the same time Dazai takes a step forward. Blindly, Chuuya follows the pull, ending up hugging Dazai’s side and half-tucked behind him.
“I should /kill/ you for this,”
Fingers slide gently down his neck and over his shoulder, gripping him gently and tugging him back at the same time Dazai takes a step forward. Blindly, Chuuya follows the pull, ending up hugging Dazai’s side and half-tucked behind him.
“I should /kill/ you for this,”
Dazai seethes. The arm on Chuuya’s side has dropped around his shoulders to hold him close, but the other one still has the gun aimed directly at Fyodor.
Who doesn’t look phased in the least, by the way. Like staring down a gun is a regular occurrence to him.
(It is. Russian
Who doesn’t look phased in the least, by the way. Like staring down a gun is a regular occurrence to him.
(It is. Russian
Roulette is a /favorite/ past time of his. It’s a game he wins every time.)
“Maybe,” he answers, shrugging and swirling his drink in its glass, “but you won’t do it now. Not in front of him,”—he nods toward Chuuya, which makes him grimace— “and my flight leaves in...four hours.”
“Maybe,” he answers, shrugging and swirling his drink in its glass, “but you won’t do it now. Not in front of him,”—he nods toward Chuuya, which makes him grimace— “and my flight leaves in...four hours.”
“That’s enough time to come back. I work fast when I’m motivated.”
/Honestly/, Chuuya has had /enough/ of this conversation. He wants to go /home/, and while he appreciates Dazai being /protective/, he doesn’t want to drag this out any longer.
He just wants it all to be over.
/Honestly/, Chuuya has had /enough/ of this conversation. He wants to go /home/, and while he appreciates Dazai being /protective/, he doesn’t want to drag this out any longer.
He just wants it all to be over.
Everything. All of it. He just wants to /sleep/, forever, and just wake up again when everything is going to be fine.
Fyodor’s smile widens, wicked. “Are you sure you want to leave him unattended again? Remember what happened /last/ time?”
Chuuya shudders at the reminder, arms
Fyodor’s smile widens, wicked. “Are you sure you want to leave him unattended again? Remember what happened /last/ time?”
Chuuya shudders at the reminder, arms
tightening. He doesn't remember /everything/ that happened during his kidnapping, but he /does/ remember Nikolai's remorseful grimace, the apology, and then the world going black.
He remembers waking up and being /terrified/.
He can't do that again. Not /ever/ again. He won't
He remembers waking up and being /terrified/.
He can't do that again. Not /ever/ again. He won't
survive.
Dazai looks like he's going to stay something in response to that, face twisting with /wrath/, but when Chuuya leans harder against him, thoroughly exhausted by his ordeal, he rethinks it.
"We'll settle this later," he decides on instead, silently urging Chuuya
Dazai looks like he's going to stay something in response to that, face twisting with /wrath/, but when Chuuya leans harder against him, thoroughly exhausted by his ordeal, he rethinks it.
"We'll settle this later," he decides on instead, silently urging Chuuya
backwards and towards the door. His gun hand doesn't waver, still locked on Fyodor unerringly, but now he's actively trying to /leave/.
Fyodor's manic grin doesn't dim. "Sure. See you later, /Chuuya/. It was very nice chatting with you."
On second thought, maybe he /wouldn't/
Fyodor's manic grin doesn't dim. "Sure. See you later, /Chuuya/. It was very nice chatting with you."
On second thought, maybe he /wouldn't/
mind if Dazai put a bullet through Fyodor's head, if only so he would stop /smiling/ at Chuuya like that. Like they've got a secret, like they're friends, like he still has /plans/ for Chuuya.
Chuuya has to let go off his death grip on Dazai so he can walk properly, stumbling
Chuuya has to let go off his death grip on Dazai so he can walk properly, stumbling
in an awkward sideways stagger, because he doesn't want to turn his back to Fyodor completely. The idea of that feels a bit like putting his back to a lethal predator, turning away from a loaded gun.
He transfers his grip to a desperate hold on Dazai's forearm, because he's
He transfers his grip to a desperate hold on Dazai's forearm, because he's
still unsteady on his feet, lightheaded. He also doesn't want to take the chance of being /alone/ again, desperately holding onto the idea of safety in numbers. Refusing to let go now that he has something to hold on to.
The door to the office is still slightly ajar, the wood
The door to the office is still slightly ajar, the wood
near the knob broken and bent inward from the force of Dazai's opening kick.
Damn. He knew Dazai was /strong/, of course, but its' one thing to know how strong he is and another to see the results of it.
Chuuya pushes through the small gap, using his foot to push the door open
Damn. He knew Dazai was /strong/, of course, but its' one thing to know how strong he is and another to see the results of it.
Chuuya pushes through the small gap, using his foot to push the door open
farther so Dazai can follow him out into the hall.
The hall outside is... a mess. There's broken glass littered over the floor, from the windows looking in on the other offices. Some of the furniture that had decorated the hall has been smashed to pieces.
Sticking out from one
The hall outside is... a mess. There's broken glass littered over the floor, from the windows looking in on the other offices. Some of the furniture that had decorated the hall has been smashed to pieces.
Sticking out from one
of the rooms is a black boot, completely still.
Chuuya manages to peek as they pass by,Dazai pushing him along on a brisk but unforceful pace towards the elevators. He wants to get out of here just as quickly as Chuuya does.
Behind the boot is an entire body, outfitted entirely
Chuuya manages to peek as they pass by,Dazai pushing him along on a brisk but unforceful pace towards the elevators. He wants to get out of here just as quickly as Chuuya does.
Behind the boot is an entire body, outfitted entirely
in black. He can't make out a face or even if the person is /breathing/ before they've passed by and the person is out of sight.
"Did--," Chuuya hesitates as Dazai reaches out to call the elevator, wondering if he even wants to /know/, "Did you /kill/ that person?"
Dazai's
"Did--," Chuuya hesitates as Dazai reaches out to call the elevator, wondering if he even wants to /know/, "Did you /kill/ that person?"
Dazai's
expression is strange. Not /angry/, not anymore, and not any emotion that Chuuya can pick out, but a strange sort of forced blankness. Like he's shut part of himself down, the part of him that normally breathes life into his eyes and body.
"Not that one. He's unconscious."
"Not that one. He's unconscious."
Oh. So Dazai didn't kill /that/ guy...but he did kill someone else.Chuuya swallows hard, wondering if he's supposed to feel bad about that because--
He really doesn't think he /does/. He doesn't feel anything more than passing flicker of pity.
The elevator doors slide open with
He really doesn't think he /does/. He doesn't feel anything more than passing flicker of pity.
The elevator doors slide open with
a too-cheery ding, and Chuuya is only mildly anxious as he steps inside. He didn't like the first elevator ride, but now that he's able to see and move on his own power, there's only a light thrum of constant anxiety.
Besides, as soon as the doors are closed, Dazai is /on/ him.
Besides, as soon as the doors are closed, Dazai is /on/ him.
All that forced blankness, that near-dead look in his eyes, all that violent rage and destruction drains out of him so quickly that Chuuya can barely believe it. One moment he’s a protective, biting beast and the /next/—
Large hands frame his face, tugging his head upwards so
Large hands frame his face, tugging his head upwards so
a frantic gaze can look over his features, taking in every inch of skin with a unique form of desperation.
“/Baby/,”— the pet name makes Chuuya’s heart jump in response, because there were a /few/ parts of the last day that made him /really/ think he was never going to hear
“/Baby/,”— the pet name makes Chuuya’s heart jump in response, because there were a /few/ parts of the last day that made him /really/ think he was never going to hear
that sweet sound rolling off Dazai’s tongue again, would never get to hear that /overload/ of affection and care packed into one, tiny, adoring word again— “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need a hospital? I need you to talk to me, baby.”
His own hands come up, gripping onto
His own hands come up, gripping onto
his forearms as his eyes close, swallowing hard. He’s not okay, but—
With Dazai here, he’s finally starting to believe that he /will/ be okay, eventually. Finally realizing that there /is/ light at the end of this horribly damp tunnel, and he just has to reach for it.
But that
With Dazai here, he’s finally starting to believe that he /will/ be okay, eventually. Finally realizing that there /is/ light at the end of this horribly damp tunnel, and he just has to reach for it.
But that
isn’t what he’s asking, not right now. They can talk about the /affects/ of this later, but for now—
“No,” he rasps, wincing at how rough his voice feels, “I’m okay. I’m not hurt, I’m just— my head hurts.”
While the throbbing hasn’t increased any, and the ominous
“No,” he rasps, wincing at how rough his voice feels, “I’m okay. I’m not hurt, I’m just— my head hurts.”
While the throbbing hasn’t increased any, and the ominous
electric-metal taste in the back of his throat has washed away, his headache isn’t /gone/.
One of Dazai’s hands leaves his face, and Chuuya is too weak to forcibly make him stay. He holds on tighter to the other forearm, hoping he doesn’t /leave/.
“Here, take these,” Dazai
One of Dazai’s hands leaves his face, and Chuuya is too weak to forcibly make him stay. He holds on tighter to the other forearm, hoping he doesn’t /leave/.
“Here, take these,” Dazai
mutters, reaching into one of his many pockets. There’s a rattle of pills in a bottle as he digs. “I don’t have water but I have a granola bar.”
He extracts Chuuya’s meds from his pocket, and Chuuya could /cry/. His meds were on the far end of the list of things he was worried
He extracts Chuuya’s meds from his pocket, and Chuuya could /cry/. His meds were on the far end of the list of things he was worried
about, but Dazai didn’t forget. He brought them /with/, and even brought a /snack/ to eat them with before he’s not supposed to eat them on an empty stomach.
God, he cares /so/ much.
He lets go with one hand so Dazai can shake the pills into his palm, paired with the strongest
God, he cares /so/ much.
He lets go with one hand so Dazai can shake the pills into his palm, paired with the strongest
does of Tylenol he can take. Hopefully that’ll help with the throbbing of his head, and if not—
He’ll let Dazai take him to the hospital. He’s not as /stubborn/ as he used to be before, because he really doesn’t /want/ to lose his memory functions. It might be embarrassing but
He’ll let Dazai take him to the hospital. He’s not as /stubborn/ as he used to be before, because he really doesn’t /want/ to lose his memory functions. It might be embarrassing but
he’d much rather deal with the embarrassment of a too-early check-up than deal with other consequences, like—
One thing at a time, Chuuya, he reminds himself.
Dry-swallowing the pills is harder than it’s ever been with how sore his throat feels. He ends up having to chew a
One thing at a time, Chuuya, he reminds himself.
Dry-swallowing the pills is harder than it’s ever been with how sore his throat feels. He ends up having to chew a
bite of the granola bar and swallow it down alongside the pills to be able to get it down.
The food hits his hollow stomach hard, sending an uncomfortable pain shooting through him before settling down. He’s not hungry, actually hungry— he feels too hollowed out for that,
The food hits his hollow stomach hard, sending an uncomfortable pain shooting through him before settling down. He’s not hungry, actually hungry— he feels too hollowed out for that,
like something precious in him has been broken and carved out, too exhausted to even think about going through the motions of life— but he chews mechanically anyways.
“God, you’re soaked,” Dazai mutters to himself, fingers picking at the damp fabric of his shirt, “What did they
“God, you’re soaked,” Dazai mutters to himself, fingers picking at the damp fabric of his shirt, “What did they
do to you?"
The question makes his stomach rise in his throat, squirming nauseous discomfort. It makes him want to /run/.
He knows what happened to him. Knowing the /term/ for it-- waterboarding, declared as cruel and unusual torture almost universally by every major country
The question makes his stomach rise in his throat, squirming nauseous discomfort. It makes him want to /run/.
He knows what happened to him. Knowing the /term/ for it-- waterboarding, declared as cruel and unusual torture almost universally by every major country
that exists today, something that’s considered a /war crime/— doesn’t make it any easier to reconcile. Doesn’t make the fact that the feeling of his wet shirt sticking to his skin makes shivers of fear crawl up his spine. Doesn’t make the raw animalistic instinct of /survival/
any easier to think past.
He doesn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it makes it /real/, makes it visceral, puts it into terms that everybody /knows/ but not many people will /understand/.
It’s not /fair/ that something so terrible can be summed up so neatly in a short,
He doesn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it makes it /real/, makes it visceral, puts it into terms that everybody /knows/ but not many people will /understand/.
It’s not /fair/ that something so terrible can be summed up so neatly in a short,
hideous sentence. How the /fuck/ are words supposed to encapsulate that awful experience?
“Um,” he stalls, blinking away another instinctive round of tears. He /hates/ the idea of water,and he’s honestly /glad/ that Dazai forgot to bring some with him,because he’s half-convinced
“Um,” he stalls, blinking away another instinctive round of tears. He /hates/ the idea of water,and he’s honestly /glad/ that Dazai forgot to bring some with him,because he’s half-convinced
he’d be sick at the sight of it, “Can I tell you later?”
Wide-eyed, Chuuya silently begs Dazai not to push the issue. He /will/ talk about it, he swears, just—
Not right now. Not when he /still/ doesn’t feel completely safe, not when he’s only a few stories away from the room
Wide-eyed, Chuuya silently begs Dazai not to push the issue. He /will/ talk about it, he swears, just—
Not right now. Not when he /still/ doesn’t feel completely safe, not when he’s only a few stories away from the room
of his nightmares, not when it's still so new and fresh and terrible.
Concern darkens Dazai's eyes, and his eyebrows draw together. He's smart, he can probably put together what happened without Chuuya needing to /explain/ it to him. Maybe he can even empathize. Who knows what
Concern darkens Dazai's eyes, and his eyebrows draw together. He's smart, he can probably put together what happened without Chuuya needing to /explain/ it to him. Maybe he can even empathize. Who knows what
happened to him when he was...in the mafia.
Before Dazai can say anything, the elevator doors are opening again. The lobby outside is empty, perfectly clean and serene. It looks like an office after hours, after all the employees have gone home.
It's creepy, kind of. Unnatural.
Before Dazai can say anything, the elevator doors are opening again. The lobby outside is empty, perfectly clean and serene. It looks like an office after hours, after all the employees have gone home.
It's creepy, kind of. Unnatural.
It feels /wrong/, and Chuuya creeps silently out into the lobby in response, feeling on edge.
Dazai is right beside him, and he seems torn. He's never more than a step behind, and his hands flutter around Chuuya, like he /wants/ to touch him and help him, but he's not sure if
Dazai is right beside him, and he seems torn. He's never more than a step behind, and his hands flutter around Chuuya, like he /wants/ to touch him and help him, but he's not sure if
he's allowed to. His head is also on a swivel, paranoia evident in the way his gaze is constantly searching the lobby for any trace of movement.
Chuuya leaves him to it, his gaze fixed on one point, his entire focus narrowed in on the door. He can see the street outside through
Chuuya leaves him to it, his gaze fixed on one point, his entire focus narrowed in on the door. He can see the street outside through
the glass doors, and the sight makes him choke up a little bit.
/Fresh air/. He wants it so bad he can almost taste it, hastening his pace even though his feet are still half-numb and the wet fabric of his jeans rubs the skin on his thighs raw. His shoes make disgusting wet
/Fresh air/. He wants it so bad he can almost taste it, hastening his pace even though his feet are still half-numb and the wet fabric of his jeans rubs the skin on his thighs raw. His shoes make disgusting wet
squishing noises with every step, filthy water oozing up between his toes and making him grimace.
He wants to go home. He wants to /shower/, he wants to curl up in bed, he wants to hug Yoko and Baki and go to /sleep/.
“Here,” Dazai says, catching his attention. In two long
He wants to go home. He wants to /shower/, he wants to curl up in bed, he wants to hug Yoko and Baki and go to /sleep/.
“Here,” Dazai says, catching his attention. In two long
strides he’s ahead of him, pushing open the door for him. He holds out one hand as he passes by him.
In it, is his phone, already pre-dialed with a number Chuuya knows /very/ well.
“Call your sister, let her know you’re okay.”
How does he know Kouyou? Sure, Chuuya’s mentioned
In it, is his phone, already pre-dialed with a number Chuuya knows /very/ well.
“Call your sister, let her know you’re okay.”
How does he know Kouyou? Sure, Chuuya’s mentioned
her, but only in terms of ‘his ane-san’ and he /absolutely/ didn’t share her number with Dazai.
How does she even know he was /missing/? He can see the time on the phone screen and it hasn’t even been /twelve/ hours yet. She wasn’t expecting him to call today, so there’s no
How does she even know he was /missing/? He can see the time on the phone screen and it hasn’t even been /twelve/ hours yet. She wasn’t expecting him to call today, so there’s no
way she /should/ know and there’s no way Dazai should’ve been able to tell her—
Unless he used his old mafia contacts to, like, stalk her or something? Get her information with a background check or something? Isn’t that a thing?
Too weary to argue, Chuuya takes the phone from
Unless he used his old mafia contacts to, like, stalk her or something? Get her information with a background check or something? Isn’t that a thing?
Too weary to argue, Chuuya takes the phone from
him and presses dial. If she’s worried, then she deserves a call to reassure her that he’s okay.
Well, mostly, anyways. Okay enough to breathe and walk and mostly function. At least for the moment.
“I’m gonna pick you up,” Dazai warns him, only a few moments before arms come
Well, mostly, anyways. Okay enough to breathe and walk and mostly function. At least for the moment.
“I’m gonna pick you up,” Dazai warns him, only a few moments before arms come
around his back and under his knees, swooping him up into a bridal carry effortlessly.
Normally, Chuuya might protest, but not today. Now, he just snuggles in close, feeling distantly guilty that he’s getting Dazai’s clothes damp with disgusting water.
He’s warm, much warmer
Normally, Chuuya might protest, but not today. Now, he just snuggles in close, feeling distantly guilty that he’s getting Dazai’s clothes damp with disgusting water.
He’s warm, much warmer
than the cool air outside, much warmer than the freezing damp of his clothes.
Maybe he shouldn’t do this, but Chuuya doesn’t /care/ right now. He blindly seeks out comfort, tucking his nose against Dazai’s neck and making a space for himself under his chin. It’s the first time
Maybe he shouldn’t do this, but Chuuya doesn’t /care/ right now. He blindly seeks out comfort, tucking his nose against Dazai’s neck and making a space for himself under his chin. It’s the first time
he’s felt like he can take an untainted breath since he got kidnapped, a sweet sense of safety and relief swirling through him.
It gives him the strength to press call on the phone and bring it to his ear.
It only rings twice before the dial tone cuts off sharply.
“Dazai?”
It gives him the strength to press call on the phone and bring it to his ear.
It only rings twice before the dial tone cuts off sharply.
“Dazai?”
...How does she know Dazai? She sounds /familiar/ with him, and she obviously knows this is his phone number if she's starting with that greeting.
"No," he mutters, curling closer as Dazai speeds up, speed-walking away from the building. The wind makes him shiver. "It's me."
"No," he mutters, curling closer as Dazai speeds up, speed-walking away from the building. The wind makes him shiver. "It's me."
"Chuuya?! Oh my god, are you okay? What happened? Where are you, I'll come there right now--"
Chuuya cuts her off, because as much as he wants to reassure her and make sure she's not worrying--
He is /not/ up for handling smothering right now, especially by more than one
Chuuya cuts her off, because as much as he wants to reassure her and make sure she's not worrying--
He is /not/ up for handling smothering right now, especially by more than one
person. Dazai is /sure/ to smother him a bit, or at least Chuuya is assuming he will, and while they both mean well, it's /too much/.
He just--
He needs some /time/, to process and to handle what happened, and to come to terms with it.
"I'm okay," he says, filling his voice
He just--
He needs some /time/, to process and to handle what happened, and to come to terms with it.
"I'm okay," he says, filling his voice
with as much conviction he can muster, making sure none of the shaking comes through. Kouyou's /stubborn/, just like everyone else in the family, and if she thinks he's lying, she'll come to check up on him whether he likes it or not. "I'm with Dazai. He'll take care of me."
The arms around him squeeze, a silent confirmation and reassurance.
They're almost two blocks away from the building now, and getting farther fast. With how late it is-- in the middle of the night, judging by how dark it is and how high the moon is-- this part of the city is
They're almost two blocks away from the building now, and getting farther fast. With how late it is-- in the middle of the night, judging by how dark it is and how high the moon is-- this part of the city is
nearly completely empty. From what Chuuya can tell, it's the business sector, where most of the offices can be found.
The lack of people means Dazai can take advantage of his long stride, hurrying out of the district. Hopefully, he parked his car somewhere nearby, because
The lack of people means Dazai can take advantage of his long stride, hurrying out of the district. Hopefully, he parked his car somewhere nearby, because
the idea of taking the train right now is nauseating.
He doesn't want anyone else to look at him, with how bad he must look.
There's a moment of silence, where he can tell that Kouyou is clearly disapproving. "Are you /sure/ you're okay? I can come pick you up, or take you to
He doesn't want anyone else to look at him, with how bad he must look.
There's a moment of silence, where he can tell that Kouyou is clearly disapproving. "Are you /sure/ you're okay? I can come pick you up, or take you to
a hospital?"
"I just have a few bumps and bruises, so I don't need a hospital yet. I'll let you know if anything changes," Chuuya relents, fingers tightening in Dazai's jacket.
He takes a turn, down a narrow alleyway that's almost hidden between two larger buildings. It looks
"I just have a few bumps and bruises, so I don't need a hospital yet. I'll let you know if anything changes," Chuuya relents, fingers tightening in Dazai's jacket.
He takes a turn, down a narrow alleyway that's almost hidden between two larger buildings. It looks
abandoned, but Chuuya can just barely make out the shape of Dazai's car near the back. A decent hiding place, if a little half-assed. Anyone could've come down here.
Switching his weight to one arm, Dazai manages to unlock the car with one hand. Opening the door is a little more
Switching his weight to one arm, Dazai manages to unlock the car with one hand. Opening the door is a little more
difficult, and he has to eventually set Chuuya down on his feet so he can slide into the passenger seat.
The car is warm and safe compared to the outside. He curls up in the seat, kicking his disgusting shoes off. They flop wetly to the floor, but its better than wearing them.
The car is warm and safe compared to the outside. He curls up in the seat, kicking his disgusting shoes off. They flop wetly to the floor, but its better than wearing them.
When Dazai shuts his door and starts to walk around to his side of the car, Chuuya takes his chance to ask Kouyou, "How do you know Dazai?"
It's not that he's /hiding/ the fact that he asked, he just wants to hear her side of the story first.
There's a long beat of silence,
It's not that he's /hiding/ the fact that he asked, he just wants to hear her side of the story first.
There's a long beat of silence,
like she's deciding what to say. She /always/ does this when she doesn't want to answer a question. When she's deciding if she's going to /avoid/ it or not.
"It's...best if I tell you in person."
Miraculously, a sluggish spike of irritation crawls through him. He's sick and
"It's...best if I tell you in person."
Miraculously, a sluggish spike of irritation crawls through him. He's sick and
tired of everybody keeping /secrets/. Giving themselves outs by saying he didn't need to /know/, or that is was /safer/ if he didn't know, or that they were scared of his reaction.
He's fucking /tired/ of being left in the dark and inevitably suffering the price for it.
"Fine,
He's fucking /tired/ of being left in the dark and inevitably suffering the price for it.
"Fine,
whatever," he snaps, "I'll let you know if anything changes."
Then he smashes the end call button before she can respond, feeling a vindictive satisfaction at having the last word. If she doesn't want to tell him, there's no need to talk to him at /all/.
The driver side door
Then he smashes the end call button before she can respond, feeling a vindictive satisfaction at having the last word. If she doesn't want to tell him, there's no need to talk to him at /all/.
The driver side door
opens then, allowing Dazai to slide in and start the car. As soon as the car is running, he’s putting it in drive and pulling away.
Chuuya is grateful he seems as eager to leave as he is. If he doesn’t see that damn building ever again, it’ll be too soon.
“Do you want me to
Chuuya is grateful he seems as eager to leave as he is. If he doesn’t see that damn building ever again, it’ll be too soon.
“Do you want me to
take you to your sister or do you want me to take you home— our hou—my house?”
Dazai’s question is quiet and unsure, an uncharacteristic show of insecurity. Chuuya’s noticed that even if he /feels/ unsure, he will often cover it up with bold words or actions so no one looks too
Dazai’s question is quiet and unsure, an uncharacteristic show of insecurity. Chuuya’s noticed that even if he /feels/ unsure, he will often cover it up with bold words or actions so no one looks too
deeply.
So the fact that his hands are wringing the steering wheel in rhythmic, self-soothing motions and he stumbles over the end of his question is telling. He’s /nervous/.
He also has no reason to be, but Chuuya doesn’t have the energy to bring up their past fight and
So the fact that his hands are wringing the steering wheel in rhythmic, self-soothing motions and he stumbles over the end of his question is telling. He’s /nervous/.
He also has no reason to be, but Chuuya doesn’t have the energy to bring up their past fight and
everything that happened before.
“Take me home,” he mutters, resting his head against the headrest. He’s so /tired/, and his eyes want to close but—
The sight of complete and utter darkness is /scary/. He can’t see what’s coming, can’t prepare. Can’t protect himself if he
“Take me home,” he mutters, resting his head against the headrest. He’s so /tired/, and his eyes want to close but—
The sight of complete and utter darkness is /scary/. He can’t see what’s coming, can’t prepare. Can’t protect himself if he
closes his eyes.
His answer is a deep exhale from Dazai, the turn of the car onto the road that leads them home.
After a few moments, the curiosity gets the best of Chuuya and he /has/ to ask. “How do you know my sister? How do you know where she lives and her number?”
More
His answer is a deep exhale from Dazai, the turn of the car onto the road that leads them home.
After a few moments, the curiosity gets the best of Chuuya and he /has/ to ask. “How do you know my sister? How do you know where she lives and her number?”
More
silence, and Chuuya swears he’s going to /scream/ if Dazai pushes the question off again.
In the drivers seat, he looks hesitant, fingers drumming on the wheel. “I will tell you, if you want,” he eventually settles on, “but I do want to say that you’ll probably want to hear it
In the drivers seat, he looks hesitant, fingers drumming on the wheel. “I will tell you, if you want,” he eventually settles on, “but I do want to say that you’ll probably want to hear it
from her.”
That...doesn’t sound good. But either way, she /had/ her chance to tell him herself,and she pushed it off. He’s /tired/ of respecting people’s privacy, only to get taken advantage of.
“Just tell me.”
Another deep breath. “Your sister is the boss of the Port Mafia.”
That...doesn’t sound good. But either way, she /had/ her chance to tell him herself,and she pushed it off. He’s /tired/ of respecting people’s privacy, only to get taken advantage of.
“Just tell me.”
Another deep breath. “Your sister is the boss of the Port Mafia.”
What? That’s /wrong/, that doesn’t make any sense. She’s an /accountant/ at Mori Corporations. She went to /college/ for it, she’s the head of her department and has her own employees. There’s no way she’s—
“That’s not funny,” Chuuya says sternly, hoping that Dazai’s joking or
“That’s not funny,” Chuuya says sternly, hoping that Dazai’s joking or
lying or just /misinformed/ because—
There’s no /way/ his sister has been lying to him for /years/. There’s no way she would hide something this big, this life-changing from him. There’s no way she would go as far as to fake company meetings and vacations and a /degree/.
There’s no /way/ his sister has been lying to him for /years/. There’s no way she would hide something this big, this life-changing from him. There’s no way she would go as far as to fake company meetings and vacations and a /degree/.
Dazai shoots a look in his direction, one that is quietly sympathetic. “It’s not a joke, chibi. Kouyou has been the head of the Mafia for almost four years now.”
That’s—
/That’s/—
What the /fuck/?
Chuuya presses his hands to his eyes, trying to reconcile the idea of his
That’s—
/That’s/—
What the /fuck/?
Chuuya presses his hands to his eyes, trying to reconcile the idea of his
sister— his sister, who practically raised him and can’t cook and has /pink/ bath towels and lavender-scented candles— is the /leader/ of one of the bloodiest organizations today.
He doesn’t want to believe it, but Dazai doesn’t have a reason to lie about that. It doesn’t gain
He doesn’t want to believe it, but Dazai doesn’t have a reason to lie about that. It doesn’t gain
him anything and—
Despite everything, Chuuya still trusts him, and he doesn’t think he’s lying.
It doesn’t make sense any other way. That story explains perfectly why Kouyou knew Dazai, how he had her phone number, and why she knew he was missing.
“Did you know? That she
Despite everything, Chuuya still trusts him, and he doesn’t think he’s lying.
It doesn’t make sense any other way. That story explains perfectly why Kouyou knew Dazai, how he had her phone number, and why she knew he was missing.
“Did you know? That she
was my sister?”
He doesn’t want to think it but—
What if this was Dazai’s plan? Getting close to him? Chuuya doesn’t know how that’d /work/, but it’s a /big/ coincidence for the ‘Demon Prodigy’ to somehow end up dating the little brother of the leader of the Mafia.
Maybe too
He doesn’t want to think it but—
What if this was Dazai’s plan? Getting close to him? Chuuya doesn’t know how that’d /work/, but it’s a /big/ coincidence for the ‘Demon Prodigy’ to somehow end up dating the little brother of the leader of the Mafia.
Maybe too
much of a coincidence.
“No, not until a few hours ago. I’ve never met her until today, and both of your records had been scrubbed thoroughly. I was just as shocked as everyone else,” Dazai responds, voice sincere.
“Why did you meet her today? What changed?”
Thé look on
“No, not until a few hours ago. I’ve never met her until today, and both of your records had been scrubbed thoroughly. I was just as shocked as everyone else,” Dazai responds, voice sincere.
“Why did you meet her today? What changed?”
Thé look on
Dazai’s face implies that he /should/ know the answer already, and he shouldn’t have to spell it out for him. “You went /missing/, Chuuya, and I couldn’t find you on my own. I needed help.”
Oh. That makes sense, and it’s /sweet/ in a way. Chuuya knows his past with the Mafia
Oh. That makes sense, and it’s /sweet/ in a way. Chuuya knows his past with the Mafia
probably isn’t clear-cut, dry or easy to handle, based on what he’s mentioned of it before.
It makes a spark of warmth bloom in his chest to realize how far Dazai would go for him.
Chuuya lets more silence fall, unsure of what to say or think or feel. He’s swinging between
It makes a spark of warmth bloom in his chest to realize how far Dazai would go for him.
Chuuya lets more silence fall, unsure of what to say or think or feel. He’s swinging between
incensed betrayal and /hurt/ and indignation, trying to understand why no one ever trusts him enough to /tell/ him important things, and sheer, apathetic exhaustion.
Luckily, the car ride home passes by in a blur. It’s mostly silent in the car, beyond the sound of the heater
Luckily, the car ride home passes by in a blur. It’s mostly silent in the car, beyond the sound of the heater
running full blast. Even the seat warmers are on to their max setting, something that usually makes Chuuya feel like his ass is getting fried—
But now, it barely seems to make a dent in the ice that seems to spread all the way down to his soul.
Eventually he has to crack a
But now, it barely seems to make a dent in the ice that seems to spread all the way down to his soul.
Eventually he has to crack a
window when the smell of the foul water heating up begins to waft through the car. It makes his nose wrinkle with disgust, and his eyes prick with tears.
He’s such a disgusting mess right now, and he /loathes/ it. He wants nothing more than a shower and clean clothes.
When
He’s such a disgusting mess right now, and he /loathes/ it. He wants nothing more than a shower and clean clothes.
When
they finally arrive home, Dazai parks the car in the driveway and is the first one out of the car.
Unbuckling his seatbelt takes more energy than Chuuya thought it would, the button more stiff than he remembers. By the time he gets it undone, he feels like he’s about to /cry/
Unbuckling his seatbelt takes more energy than Chuuya thought it would, the button more stiff than he remembers. By the time he gets it undone, he feels like he’s about to /cry/
with how weak his body feels. Like it’s about to give out at any moment.
It’s nearly 4a.m now, which means that he’s been awake for almost twenty hours, not including the time he spent knocked out. It’s a record since he got sick, and he can feel the exhaustion weighing on him
It’s nearly 4a.m now, which means that he’s been awake for almost twenty hours, not including the time he spent knocked out. It’s a record since he got sick, and he can feel the exhaustion weighing on him
like a physical thing, dragging at his arms and legs and pressing down on his chest.
Dazai pulls him out of the car when Chuuya is too slow to do it himself, leaving his shoes on the floor. He hikes him into his arms again, taking all his weight and supporting him so that he
Dazai pulls him out of the car when Chuuya is too slow to do it himself, leaving his shoes on the floor. He hikes him into his arms again, taking all his weight and supporting him so that he
doesn’t have to find the strength to walk himself.
Chuuya leans into him easily, hooking his chin over his shoulder and relaxing. His head still hurts, but it’s slowly starting to fade away, now that he’s taken some pain meds.
Yoko greets them at the front door, more excited
Chuuya leans into him easily, hooking his chin over his shoulder and relaxing. His head still hurts, but it’s slowly starting to fade away, now that he’s taken some pain meds.
Yoko greets them at the front door, more excited
than she’s ever been, jumping and barking and wagging her tail so furiously that her entire body shakes with it.She nearly knocks Dazai over entirely when she jumps up to shove her nose into Chuuya’s back, sniffing loudly.
For the first time since everything happened, he smiles.
For the first time since everything happened, he smiles.
It’s small and fragile, barely there, but it /is/ a smile.
Yoko’s such a /good/ girl, it’s impossible not to love her. Even when Chuuya feels /awful/, he always knows that at least Yoko will love him unconditionally, and she won’t ever fight with him or leave him.
He always
Yoko’s such a /good/ girl, it’s impossible not to love her. Even when Chuuya feels /awful/, he always knows that at least Yoko will love him unconditionally, and she won’t ever fight with him or leave him.
He always
has Yoko. Baki, too, even though he hasn’t seen him yet, and Kozo. They won’t /ever/ hurt him.
Dazai takes him up to the master bathroom, cautiously making his way through the house with Yoko and Kozo practically stepping on his heels. Baki meows loudly when they come into the
Dazai takes him up to the master bathroom, cautiously making his way through the house with Yoko and Kozo practically stepping on his heels. Baki meows loudly when they come into the
bedroom, standing up on the pillow he's claimed for himself and arching his back in clear invitation for pets.
He's still curled on Chuuya's side of the bed, in the same spot he would be if Chuuya were sleeping in it. Like he was waiting for him to come home and take his spot.
He's still curled on Chuuya's side of the bed, in the same spot he would be if Chuuya were sleeping in it. Like he was waiting for him to come home and take his spot.
(In that moment, Chuuya realizes something that will stay with him for the rest of his long life--
Home isn't the house you return to at the end of the day. /Home/ are the people and things that love you and wait for you to come back, no matter how long it takes.)
Dazai lowers
Home isn't the house you return to at the end of the day. /Home/ are the people and things that love you and wait for you to come back, no matter how long it takes.)
Dazai lowers
him to his feet in the bathroom, slowly enough that Chuuya can find his balance before he pulls away.
"Do you want to shower?" He asks quietly, unobtrusive. He hasn't made a single comment about the /smell/ or the way he looks, and he doesn't put pressure of him. If Chuuya said
"Do you want to shower?" He asks quietly, unobtrusive. He hasn't made a single comment about the /smell/ or the way he looks, and he doesn't put pressure of him. If Chuuya said
no, he's sure Dazai would just help him into a clean set of clothes without a single word of complaint.
Except Chuuya /does/ want to shower. He's filthy and achy, and frozen to the bone. Some parts of him have been rubbed raw by his damp clothing, and he doesn't even /want/ to
Except Chuuya /does/ want to shower. He's filthy and achy, and frozen to the bone. Some parts of him have been rubbed raw by his damp clothing, and he doesn't even /want/ to
know what his hair looks like right now. His face feels gritty and he needs to wash the phantom feeling of wet cloth off his face--
There's just one problem, one that he /should've/ expected:
Water.
Just the thought of water pouring down on him makes him shiver in cold fear.
There's just one problem, one that he /should've/ expected:
Water.
Just the thought of water pouring down on him makes him shiver in cold fear.
The thought of being /alone/ in there, water pouring down on him, over him, soaking him, and the lights will be on, but he has to close his eyes sometime, cold dark alone wet /pain/--
"Um," he says, stalling, trying to breathe through the rising tightness in his chest, "Will you
"Um," he says, stalling, trying to breathe through the rising tightness in his chest, "Will you
come in with me?"
It's not a /sexual/ thing, he just doesn't want to be /alone/. He doesn't want to be left by himself in there with the /water/.
Kneeling in front of him so he can peel off his socks, Dazai looks up at him. He looks concerned at first, slightly confused, like
It's not a /sexual/ thing, he just doesn't want to be /alone/. He doesn't want to be left by himself in there with the /water/.
Kneeling in front of him so he can peel off his socks, Dazai looks up at him. He looks concerned at first, slightly confused, like
he doesn't know why he's asking. Like he thinks he's asking for the wrong reasons.
Chuuya gives him a pleading look, silently begging him not to ask and not to refuse.
Whatever expression he's wearing must be enough to convince him, because he's giving a slow nod after a
Chuuya gives him a pleading look, silently begging him not to ask and not to refuse.
Whatever expression he's wearing must be enough to convince him, because he's giving a slow nod after a
moment. Thankfully he doesn't /say/ anything, because Chuuya has no idea what he'd say to any questions right now.
His clothes are peeled off carefully. It's a struggle to shrug out of his wet shirt, and his jeans resist Dazai's fingers pulling on the waistband, but eventually
His clothes are peeled off carefully. It's a struggle to shrug out of his wet shirt, and his jeans resist Dazai's fingers pulling on the waistband, but eventually
he's standing there naked and shivering, arms wrapped around himself. Vulnerable, all his defenses stripped away.
Dazai reaches over to turn the shower on so it can warm up before he takes his own clothes off.
For once, Chuuya curses the excellent water pressure because the
Dazai reaches over to turn the shower on so it can warm up before he takes his own clothes off.
For once, Chuuya curses the excellent water pressure because the
sound of the water hitting the tile hard makes him flinch. It sounds like rain, sounds like water falling, dripping, crashing onto the floor--
Grabbing the sleeves, Dazai shrugs off his coat. It's long and pitch-black, nothing Chuuya has ever seen before. It also looks the
Grabbing the sleeves, Dazai shrugs off his coat. It's long and pitch-black, nothing Chuuya has ever seen before. It also looks the
slightest bit too small, straining over his shoulders as he pulls it off.
His heavy, knee-high boots are next. Dazai props up his foot on the toilet seat, reaching into the boot and extracting a long, sheathed knife.
Was that in there the /whole time/? Not only did Dazai bring
His heavy, knee-high boots are next. Dazai props up his foot on the toilet seat, reaching into the boot and extracting a long, sheathed knife.
Was that in there the /whole time/? Not only did Dazai bring
at /least/ a pair of guns-- probably more, because the sound the coat made as he draped it over the laundry basket was /heavy/-- but a knife in his boot too? Was he preparing for /war/?
Watching Dazai-- this Dazai, which seems like a /different/ Dazai than the one he's used to--
Watching Dazai-- this Dazai, which seems like a /different/ Dazai than the one he's used to--
get undressed is a /process/. He's got weapons that Chuuya hasn't even /heard/ of, tucked into places he never would've suspected. His boots have to be unzipped and then unlaced before they can be pulled off. The holsters around his thighs and hips need to be pulled off before he
can get to his belt. Same thing with the holsters under his arms.
Dazai seems practiced, efficiently getting everything off while Chuuya just...
Stares.
It's like something out of a /Yakuza/ movie, the protagonist armed to the teeth with knives and guns and explosives, and
Dazai seems practiced, efficiently getting everything off while Chuuya just...
Stares.
It's like something out of a /Yakuza/ movie, the protagonist armed to the teeth with knives and guns and explosives, and
every weapon Chuuya can think of, stashed into tiny places.
It's ridiculous. It's unnecessary. It's /overboard/. It's...
Also kind of hot?
Obviously Chuuya isn't really thinking about /sex/ right now, but the way Dazai casually flips one of the bigger knives and catches it
It's ridiculous. It's unnecessary. It's /overboard/. It's...
Also kind of hot?
Obviously Chuuya isn't really thinking about /sex/ right now, but the way Dazai casually flips one of the bigger knives and catches it
by the hilt so he can set it on the counter is attractive. The confident way he handles /everything/, and the neat lines he makes with the weapons on the bathroom counter is also surprisingly endearing.
Even with the array of knives, Chuuya still doesn't feel a hint of nerves
Even with the array of knives, Chuuya still doesn't feel a hint of nerves
about it. He knows Dazai would never intentionally hurt him, not like /that/.
Finally Dazai's just as naked as he is and stepping into the shower. He turns around, so the water is pouring down on his back and holding his hand out to Chuuya in invitation.
He can't put it off
Finally Dazai's just as naked as he is and stepping into the shower. He turns around, so the water is pouring down on his back and holding his hand out to Chuuya in invitation.
He can't put it off
any longer. Can't distract himself anymore with other thoughts.
He has to get in.
The /worst/ part is that he wants to. Logically, he does, and he /knows/ its not the same, and he can fucking see and taste and hear and /know/ it's not the same as what happened to him.
There's
He has to get in.
The /worst/ part is that he wants to. Logically, he does, and he /knows/ its not the same, and he can fucking see and taste and hear and /know/ it's not the same as what happened to him.
There's
no cloth over his face here, no aching coldness, no scrape of metal buckets with disgusting water sloshing in them.
It's different. He /knows/ that.
But his body doesn't seem to get the message, because his heart is thundering in his chest, pulse racing like it's trying to
It's different. He /knows/ that.
But his body doesn't seem to get the message, because his heart is thundering in his chest, pulse racing like it's trying to
outrun the fear and panic rising inside him. He's broken out in a cold sweat, shivering faintly, eyes locked on the drops of water hitting the tile. His knees feel weak, like they might give out from underneath him.
"Are you coming in?"
Dazai looks /concerned/, eyebrows bunched
"Are you coming in?"
Dazai looks /concerned/, eyebrows bunched
together. His hair is wet now, plastered to his forehead, water dripping down his features. His hand is still outstretched, waiting for him to grab it.
Gritting his teeth, Chuuya forces himself forward a step. Two steps, three, all the way to the edge of the shower, where the
Gritting his teeth, Chuuya forces himself forward a step. Two steps, three, all the way to the edge of the shower, where the
step lowers down into the shower and the water pools briefly before draining back down.
He's not going to let this /rule/ him. He might have been waterboarded and it was /awful/, but he's not going to afraid of his own damn shower. He's not a /coward/, he /will/ push through
He's not going to let this /rule/ him. He might have been waterboarded and it was /awful/, but he's not going to afraid of his own damn shower. He's not a /coward/, he /will/ push through
this.
The air is hot and humid, steam swirling through the air. It makes it hard to breathe, just slightly, and sticks to his face. It makes him shiver, and despite the fact that he knows it's warm, it feels too cold in here.
Reaching out, he takes Dazai's hand. Their fingers
The air is hot and humid, steam swirling through the air. It makes it hard to breathe, just slightly, and sticks to his face. It makes him shiver, and despite the fact that he knows it's warm, it feels too cold in here.
Reaching out, he takes Dazai's hand. Their fingers
slide together, wet, before Dazai squeezes and grabs on tight.
He doesn't pull him into the shower so much as he urges him in, providing a barrier with his body that blocks most of the oncoming water. It gives Chuuya a little space to curl into, pressing close until their skin
He doesn't pull him into the shower so much as he urges him in, providing a barrier with his body that blocks most of the oncoming water. It gives Chuuya a little space to curl into, pressing close until their skin
is sliding together, wet and warm and comforting.
It gives him the time to get used to the idea of being /wet/ without being in pain,letting his heartrate slowly calm. Dazai's hands have come down on his shoulders, slowly and gently enough that Chuuya could protest if he wanted.
It gives him the time to get used to the idea of being /wet/ without being in pain,letting his heartrate slowly calm. Dazai's hands have come down on his shoulders, slowly and gently enough that Chuuya could protest if he wanted.
When he doesn't, his fingers get to work at slowly massaging the knots out of his shoulders.
It's mindlessly comforting, touch and affection and warmth. Pushing the memories out of his skin, washing away the remnants from his body, revealing the person he was /before/ today.
It's mindlessly comforting, touch and affection and warmth. Pushing the memories out of his skin, washing away the remnants from his body, revealing the person he was /before/ today.
Rubbing away the pain and fear, and replacing it with safety and security.
Taking a deep breath, Chuuya lets his hand slide outward, fingers coming underneath the spray of water. The initial sensation-- water pouring down on him-- makes him flinch in response, fighting the urge
Taking a deep breath, Chuuya lets his hand slide outward, fingers coming underneath the spray of water. The initial sensation-- water pouring down on him-- makes him flinch in response, fighting the urge
to withdraw and /hide/.
Just as quickly though, he's registering the differences of it. The water is /warm/, not cold. It leaves him feeling clean afterwards, not gritty with filth. It's clear and with the ceiling light, it looks almost golden.
It's not the same, not at all.
Just as quickly though, he's registering the differences of it. The water is /warm/, not cold. It leaves him feeling clean afterwards, not gritty with filth. It's clear and with the ceiling light, it looks almost golden.
It's not the same, not at all.
It's just fucking /water/, and that realization shouldn't feel so /huge/, but it does.
It's just water.
He lets it run through his palm, down his arm, carving out little paths of cleanliness. It drips off his elbow, lands on his thigh, and when it's finally swirling towards the
It's just water.
He lets it run through his palm, down his arm, carving out little paths of cleanliness. It drips off his elbow, lands on his thigh, and when it's finally swirling towards the
drain, it’s muddy-looking and grey with grime.
Chuuya wrinkles his nose. Gross.
There’s a /minor/ setback when Dazai reaches behind him and offers him the washcloth he normally uses to scrub himself off. The sight of it makes Chuuya’s pulse skyrocket back into panicked racing,
Chuuya wrinkles his nose. Gross.
There’s a /minor/ setback when Dazai reaches behind him and offers him the washcloth he normally uses to scrub himself off. The sight of it makes Chuuya’s pulse skyrocket back into panicked racing,
and he shrinks backward, grimacing.
“No,” he says, firm, digging for the /anger/ beneath all the pain and misery, fighting the shudders that want to crawl down his spine. “Not the washcloth. I want the scrubby thing.”
For the first time, Dazai isn’t amused by his refusal to
“No,” he says, firm, digging for the /anger/ beneath all the pain and misery, fighting the shudders that want to crawl down his spine. “Not the washcloth. I want the scrubby thing.”
For the first time, Dazai isn’t amused by his refusal to
call the loofah by its proper name, and silently swaps them out. He hasn’t said anything, but by the pained look in his eye and the twist of remorse in his expression, he’s probably already figured out what happened.
Good. If he /knows/, then Chuuya doesn’t have to tell him. He
Good. If he /knows/, then Chuuya doesn’t have to tell him. He
doesn’t have to put it into neat, horrible little words that will never able to capture the /experience/. He doesn’t have to /acknowledge/ it, and he can just move on without that.
It’s fine, he reasons, lathering up the loofah with his strongest-smelling body wash. He has
It’s fine, he reasons, lathering up the loofah with his strongest-smelling body wash. He has
quite the little collection now, and Dazai has even installed one of those shower baskets that attach to the wall, so he can store his soaps in it.
The smell is cherry blossoms, almost too sweet. He doesn’t use it often, because it’s a /strong/ smell that lingers in the shower
The smell is cherry blossoms, almost too sweet. He doesn’t use it often, because it’s a /strong/ smell that lingers in the shower
for hours after the fact, and overpowers any other scent Chuuya tries to use that day.
It's perfect for today, though, because he doesn't want to smell /anything/ like he does right now, dirty and filthy. If he never smells rotten water again, he'll be happy.
The loofah is
It's perfect for today, though, because he doesn't want to smell /anything/ like he does right now, dirty and filthy. If he never smells rotten water again, he'll be happy.
The loofah is
soft on his skin, gently scrubbing away every spot of dirt on his skin and replacing it with foam. He works his way meticulously down his body, making sure to get every inch of himself, starting with his arms and moving down his torso. Dazai is still blocking most of the water
stream, so he has to reach around him once or twice to rewet the loofah, but it's not a hassle.
It's...quiet. Chuuya is focused on his task with laser intensity, making sure he gets /every/ part of himself, like he's afraid that the experience will stick to him if he misses even
It's...quiet. Chuuya is focused on his task with laser intensity, making sure he gets /every/ part of himself, like he's afraid that the experience will stick to him if he misses even
a speak of grime. Dazai is silently watching him, expression forcibly blank, like he's trying not to /react/ to the sight of Chuuya scrubbing himself nearly raw.
Like he doesn't know what to /say/, because there's nothing to say to something like this. There's only the ability
Like he doesn't know what to /say/, because there's nothing to say to something like this. There's only the ability
to watch as Chuuya slowly washes away the composure that's holding him together.
Eventually, Dazai reaches out and finds the very ends of his hair. He tugs on it, just hard enough to get his attention without hurting him. "Can I wash your hair?"
Normally, Chuuya prefers to wash
Eventually, Dazai reaches out and finds the very ends of his hair. He tugs on it, just hard enough to get his attention without hurting him. "Can I wash your hair?"
Normally, Chuuya prefers to wash
his own hair. It’s taken him a long time to find a routine that works for him, and his curls have a tendency to go haywire for the next /three/ washes if there’s any deviation from that routine.
But the idea of lifting his hands above his head for long enough to work shampoo and
But the idea of lifting his hands above his head for long enough to work shampoo and
conditioner through his hair, rinsing, detangling...
It’s /exhausting/. He’s already starting to feel winded after just scrubbing his legs.
He nods, silently grateful.
Fingertips glance over his shoulder, getting his attention. He looks back and up, catching Dazai’s concerned
It’s /exhausting/. He’s already starting to feel winded after just scrubbing his legs.
He nods, silently grateful.
Fingertips glance over his shoulder, getting his attention. He looks back and up, catching Dazai’s concerned
expression.
“I’m gonna take the shower head and get your hair wet, okay?”
Chuuya is torn, because he /appreciates/ the warning because the idea of being sprayed with water by surprise is /terrifying/ now—
But also it feels so fucking /weak/ and ridiculous that he has to be
“I’m gonna take the shower head and get your hair wet, okay?”
Chuuya is torn, because he /appreciates/ the warning because the idea of being sprayed with water by surprise is /terrifying/ now—
But also it feels so fucking /weak/ and ridiculous that he has to be
/warned/ that he’s going to be wet. He /knows/ he can’t move on so quickly, and he’s not even a few hours out from when he was being drowned on dry land but—
It’s not /fair/ that he has to deal with the lingering after effects of what someone /else/ did to him. It’s not /fair/
It’s not /fair/ that he has to deal with the lingering after effects of what someone /else/ did to him. It’s not /fair/
that /Nika/ gets to go on with her life probably /never/ struggling with something so simple, while Chuuya can’t take a fucking /shower/.
He nods, going back to scrubbing underneath his arms.
The shower head rattles as Dazai pulls it from it’s cradle, and the sound of water
He nods, going back to scrubbing underneath his arms.
The shower head rattles as Dazai pulls it from it’s cradle, and the sound of water
hitting the floor increases for a moment.
Then water is hitting the back of his foot and Chuuya has to stop what he’s going and just... fight back the urge to /run/, as the stream of water slowly makes its way up his legs.
His body isn’t so bad, and he can even relax into the
Then water is hitting the back of his foot and Chuuya has to stop what he’s going and just... fight back the urge to /run/, as the stream of water slowly makes its way up his legs.
His body isn’t so bad, and he can even relax into the
stream after a while. He turns his hip into it so the stream can reach the front of his body and start to wash off all the suds.
Dazai’s pulled his hair so it lays flat on his back, the ends reaching his shoulder blades. Even that isn’t so bad.
It’s when the water hits the
Dazai’s pulled his hair so it lays flat on his back, the ends reaching his shoulder blades. Even that isn’t so bad.
It’s when the water hits the
back of his neck that they run into a problem.
As /soon/ as he feels water on his neck, he’s instinctively hunching his shoulders and lurching forward out of the spray. He doesn’t have a lot of room to /move/ without getting out of the shower entirely, so he ends up half-curled
As /soon/ as he feels water on his neck, he’s instinctively hunching his shoulders and lurching forward out of the spray. He doesn’t have a lot of room to /move/ without getting out of the shower entirely, so he ends up half-curled
against the glass panes, arms reaching up to cover his face and shivering.
In the silence that falls, his shuddering breath— need air, need to breathe, can’t breathe, /I can’t breathe/— is horrifically loud.
Dazai is the first one to break the tension in the room. He reaches
In the silence that falls, his shuddering breath— need air, need to breathe, can’t breathe, /I can’t breathe/— is horrifically loud.
Dazai is the first one to break the tension in the room. He reaches
out with the hand that isn’t holding the shower head, brushing his fingertips over his shoulderblades. He doesn’t /grab/ him or try to restrain him, which Chuuya is distantly grateful for.
“Hey,” he murmurs, quiet voice seeping into the air like steam and sinking into his skin,
“Hey,” he murmurs, quiet voice seeping into the air like steam and sinking into his skin,
“You’re alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Chuuya /knows/ that. Dazai can tell him that, /he/ can tell himself that, but it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s been taught first hand and /ruthlessly/ that water /does/ hurt. Not always, but it can, and all he can /feel/ is the
Chuuya /knows/ that. Dazai can tell him that, /he/ can tell himself that, but it doesn’t fucking matter because he’s been taught first hand and /ruthlessly/ that water /does/ hurt. Not always, but it can, and all he can /feel/ is the
burning feeling of water in his /lungs/, choking him.
“Not my face,” he blurts out, frantic, needing to get the message across because that’ll be /too much/, he’s already holding himself together by the edges, a hairsbreadth away from falling apart, from letting the newly-carved
“Not my face,” he blurts out, frantic, needing to get the message across because that’ll be /too much/, he’s already holding himself together by the edges, a hairsbreadth away from falling apart, from letting the newly-carved
cracks show.
“Okay, I won’t. I promise,” Dazai responds, low and soothing. Something about the smooth rumble of his voice, so different than the raspy accented voice that had /questioned/ him let’s his heart rate drop again.
It’s different. It’s /not/ the same. It’s /just/
“Okay, I won’t. I promise,” Dazai responds, low and soothing. Something about the smooth rumble of his voice, so different than the raspy accented voice that had /questioned/ him let’s his heart rate drop again.
It’s different. It’s /not/ the same. It’s /just/
water. It’s just a shower.
“Would it be easier if you got your hair wet yourself?”
Objectively, yes, that /would/ be easier. It would give him control, it would let him take it at his own pace. But the problem with that—
It relied on Chuuya to make the first move. Right now,
“Would it be easier if you got your hair wet yourself?”
Objectively, yes, that /would/ be easier. It would give him control, it would let him take it at his own pace. But the problem with that—
It relied on Chuuya to make the first move. Right now,
he isn’t sure if he /can/ do that. If he can feel the fear, the panic, the anxiety, the /memories/ and still let the water pour over his head.
That hurts the worst. He’s always considered himself /brave/, someone that would never let anxiety or fear rule his actions. He’s
That hurts the worst. He’s always considered himself /brave/, someone that would never let anxiety or fear rule his actions. He’s
always pushed through every obstacle that stood in his way with unrelenting stubbornness, refusing to ever back down, even if he should. He always viewed his recklessness with a sort of /pride/ because he might be /foolish/ and not smart enough and too weak--
But at /least/ he
But at /least/ he
never backed down. At /least/ he could be counted to push through.
Now, that feels like that's been /taken/ from him. He doesn't want to be strong or brave or reckless, and if it were up to him--
Maybe he'd never wash his own hair, and that's perhaps the saddest part of all.
Now, that feels like that's been /taken/ from him. He doesn't want to be strong or brave or reckless, and if it were up to him--
Maybe he'd never wash his own hair, and that's perhaps the saddest part of all.
He shakes his head, forcing himself to uncurl and stand up straight. "No, I want you to do it."
He does not look at Dazai's face as he moves back into range, because he doesn't want to see the pity there. He doesn't want to see the sympathy, the concern, or anything else he's
He does not look at Dazai's face as he moves back into range, because he doesn't want to see the pity there. He doesn't want to see the sympathy, the concern, or anything else he's
feeling. Chuuya's already feeling /enough/ for both of them, he doesn't need to pile that on top.
"Okay," Dazai murmurs, quietly accepting and Chuuya is /glad/ he's not pushing him to do it by himself. He's accepting the limits that are being given to him without question. "Tip
"Okay," Dazai murmurs, quietly accepting and Chuuya is /glad/ he's not pushing him to do it by himself. He's accepting the limits that are being given to him without question. "Tip
your head back."
Suppressing a shiver, Chuuya does as he's told. Fingers find the back of his head, supporting his weight as the shower stream moves up again.
It's better like this, marginally. The /position/-- head tilted back-- is unfortunate, but Dazai's hand underneath him
Suppressing a shiver, Chuuya does as he's told. Fingers find the back of his head, supporting his weight as the shower stream moves up again.
It's better like this, marginally. The /position/-- head tilted back-- is unfortunate, but Dazai's hand underneath him
is easy to sink into, comforting, a reminder that he knows this. He knows Dazai, he knows what's happening, he knows this won't /hurt/.
As the water moves up, his hand switches grip, coming up to cup around his hairline and making sure that no water drips down his face as he
As the water moves up, his hand switches grip, coming up to cup around his hairline and making sure that no water drips down his face as he
wets the hair higher up his head. It blocks Chuuya's vision slightly, giving him a sense of /privacy/ because he can't see Dazai anymore.
Privacy he appreciates, because the act of being /seen/ in a moment that Chuuya would probably describe as one of his most vulnerable is...
Privacy he appreciates, because the act of being /seen/ in a moment that Chuuya would probably describe as one of his most vulnerable is...
Uncomfortable. It makes him want to /hide/, even if he knows he won't be /hurt/.
Shampooing is a gentle process compared to his usual routine. Usually, he scrubs at his scalp to make sure it's clean, but Dazai gently runs his fingertips through his hair patiently, working the
Shampooing is a gentle process compared to his usual routine. Usually, he scrubs at his scalp to make sure it's clean, but Dazai gently runs his fingertips through his hair patiently, working the
suds to the ends of his hair. He makes sure to get every strand thoroughly.
When his fingers find the bump on the back of his head, the sore pain makes Chuuya wince again. The ache from where Nikolai knocked him out has mostly faded and is almost unnoticeable in the sea of
When his fingers find the bump on the back of his head, the sore pain makes Chuuya wince again. The ache from where Nikolai knocked him out has mostly faded and is almost unnoticeable in the sea of
everything /else/ that Chuuya is feeling right now, but it flares up quickly when Dazai presses against it.
"What happened?" He asks, lightening his touch.
Here, Chuuya faces a dilemma. He could, and maybe he /should/, tell Dazai that Nikolai ambushed him outside of his house
"What happened?" He asks, lightening his touch.
Here, Chuuya faces a dilemma. He could, and maybe he /should/, tell Dazai that Nikolai ambushed him outside of his house
and knocked him out. He doubts that Dazai /knows/ that Nikolai was working with Fyodor, because he probably wouldn't let an enemy befriend his son like that and invite him over to the house. It wouldn't make any sense.
But on the other hand... he doesn't know what Dazai would
But on the other hand... he doesn't know what Dazai would
/do/ if he knew. Chuuya is obviously /pissed/ at Nikolai, but at the same time, he doesn't think he wants him to.. /die/, or something. He doesn't want Dazai to do anything to him before he can at least speak to his former dormmate.
They were /friends/, and even if that might
They were /friends/, and even if that might
be /fake/ and even if it was a set-up for Nikolai to get close to Dazai, and even if Nikolai hurt him /badly/--
Chuuya still considered him a friend at some point, a really /good/ friend, and that alone gives him the right to /explain/ himself, in Chuuya's mind. He has the right
Chuuya still considered him a friend at some point, a really /good/ friend, and that alone gives him the right to /explain/ himself, in Chuuya's mind. He has the right
to explain himself, and maybe apologize.
He has the right to speak to Chuuya first, and not an overprotective Dazai. And Chuuya deserves to hear his side of the story firsthand.
"They knocked me out," he settles on, short and succinct. It's the /truth/, but it's not the whole
He has the right to speak to Chuuya first, and not an overprotective Dazai. And Chuuya deserves to hear his side of the story firsthand.
"They knocked me out," he settles on, short and succinct. It's the /truth/, but it's not the whole
story.
By Dazai's silence, he's not /happy/ with the answer, probably angry on his behalf, but he resumes washing his hair without another word. He doesn't actively /avoid/ the bump, but he's incredibly gentle when he massages shampoo into that area. It feels nice, relaxing.
By Dazai's silence, he's not /happy/ with the answer, probably angry on his behalf, but he resumes washing his hair without another word. He doesn't actively /avoid/ the bump, but he's incredibly gentle when he massages shampoo into that area. It feels nice, relaxing.
Rinsing is either this time, now that he knows he won’t have water pour down on his face. It still makes his heart race when he feels the stream near his hairline, washing out his roots, but at least he’s able to stay still, albeit with some fidgeting.
This time, as Dazai works
This time, as Dazai works
conditioner through his hair patiently, Chuuya cups his hands under the water and gets his fingers wet. Raising his hands, he works on rubbing the filth off his face.
It’s slow going and feels woefully inadequate, like his skin might never be clean again, but it’s better than
It’s slow going and feels woefully inadequate, like his skin might never be clean again, but it’s better than
nothing.
(Dazai is experiencing.... a /lot/ of emotions right now.
The first and most pressing is a sense of /relief/. He got Chuuya back—relatively unharmed, at least in a physical sense— and now he’s /safe/ and at home, within arms reach. No one is going to hurt him any
(Dazai is experiencing.... a /lot/ of emotions right now.
The first and most pressing is a sense of /relief/. He got Chuuya back—relatively unharmed, at least in a physical sense— and now he’s /safe/ and at home, within arms reach. No one is going to hurt him any
more, he’ll make /sure/ of it.
He’s walking and talking, and coherent—
But something in him has been broken.
It’s not /obvious/ to someone who doesn’t know him, but Chuuya is /full/ of life. He’s snarky and energetic, friendly. A social butterfly who makes friends wherever
He’s walking and talking, and coherent—
But something in him has been broken.
It’s not /obvious/ to someone who doesn’t know him, but Chuuya is /full/ of life. He’s snarky and energetic, friendly. A social butterfly who makes friends wherever
he goes. Bratty and defiant, but also /loving/. He’s the embodiment of what life should be.
Now, all that seems to have drained away, leaving Chuuya a pale, shivering ghost in his grasp. He’s quiet— abnormal in itself, because he’s always been /loud/— and his eyes are flat.
Now, all that seems to have drained away, leaving Chuuya a pale, shivering ghost in his grasp. He’s quiet— abnormal in itself, because he’s always been /loud/— and his eyes are flat.
Deep blue, without the shine of life, barely responsive.
Dazai /aches/ for him, and below the relief of having him home, is the /rage/ that someone /dared/ to hurt him. Rage at /himself/ for letting him go, rage that he /shouldn’t/ feel when Chuuya shrinks away from the water.
Dazai /aches/ for him, and below the relief of having him home, is the /rage/ that someone /dared/ to hurt him. Rage at /himself/ for letting him go, rage that he /shouldn’t/ feel when Chuuya shrinks away from the water.
Chuuya hasn’t said anything but—
Dazai isn’t stupid, he can guess at what happened to him. What they did to him. Why he’s terrified of the water on his face and why he won’t even touch the damp washcloth.
Water boarding. Dry drowning.
He’s never been waterboarded himself,
Dazai isn’t stupid, he can guess at what happened to him. What they did to him. Why he’s terrified of the water on his face and why he won’t even touch the damp washcloth.
Water boarding. Dry drowning.
He’s never been waterboarded himself,
but he /has/ drowned before. On purpose, so it’s not the same, but he can imagine the burning, searing agony of water in his lungs. He knows what it feels like, and it /hurts/ to know that Chuuya went through that.
It /hurts/ to see him hunched over, rubbing his face with wet
It /hurts/ to see him hunched over, rubbing his face with wet
fingertips, because he can’t bear the feeling of water running over his face. It /hurts/ to see someone he /loves/ so damaged and hurting because of /his/ mistakes.
This should’ve never happened to him. Dazai should’ve been more careful, smarter, more trusting, braver. There’s
This should’ve never happened to him. Dazai should’ve been more careful, smarter, more trusting, braver. There’s
so many things he could’ve been— /should’ve/ been— to prevent this from happening.
As always, it’s always Dazai’s faults that lead to the people he cherishes most getting taken away from him. Getting hurt because of him. He never learns his lesson, he’s never /good enough/ and
As always, it’s always Dazai’s faults that lead to the people he cherishes most getting taken away from him. Getting hurt because of him. He never learns his lesson, he’s never /good enough/ and
he always ends up here.
Holding the love of his life and unable to do /anything/ to take away his pain. Wishing— wrongly, perhaps— that Chuuya had never met him, because if he hadn’t—
He wouldn’t be in pain because of him. Pain that Dazai can’t take away or wish onto himself
Holding the love of his life and unable to do /anything/ to take away his pain. Wishing— wrongly, perhaps— that Chuuya had never met him, because if he hadn’t—
He wouldn’t be in pain because of him. Pain that Dazai can’t take away or wish onto himself
instead.
He can’t do anything. All he can do is comb his fingers gently through his hair to smooth away the tangled—
And offer something Chuuya /should’ve/ had earlier. Say something he deserves to hear, even if Dazai doesn’t deserve to say it, not now.)
“I love you.”
He can’t do anything. All he can do is comb his fingers gently through his hair to smooth away the tangled—
And offer something Chuuya /should’ve/ had earlier. Say something he deserves to hear, even if Dazai doesn’t deserve to say it, not now.)
“I love you.”
Chuuya stills. For a moment, he thinks he misheard that, somehow. Or that it was a mistake, a slip of the tongue, something that Dazai will laugh off and explain what he really meant to say.
But when he tilts his head, peeking over his shoulder at him, Dazai’s expression is
But when he tilts his head, peeking over his shoulder at him, Dazai’s expression is
calm and clear and open. He doesn’t say anything when Chuuya looks at him, gaze steady.
It’s clear. He said it. He /meant/ it. He wanted Chuuya to hear it.
For a moment, there’s joy. It’s the /first/ time someone has ever confessed to him. It’s his first boyfriend telling him
It’s clear. He said it. He /meant/ it. He wanted Chuuya to hear it.
For a moment, there’s joy. It’s the /first/ time someone has ever confessed to him. It’s his first boyfriend telling him
he loves him for the /first/ time, and Chuuya loves him /too/, how could he not be happy? It’s everything he ever wanted, and maybe it’s not the life he pictured for himself but—
He’s /happy/ here, like this, with Dazai.
Just as quickly, the joy fades—
And that’s when the
He’s /happy/ here, like this, with Dazai.
Just as quickly, the joy fades—
And that’s when the
anger sets in because—
How dare he? How fucking /dare/ he tell him /that/ like this? Does he think that the misery of this moment can be offset by a /confession that’s too late/? Does he think that /fixes/ things? Makes him /feel/ better?
How fucking /dare/ he tie Chuuya to
How dare he? How fucking /dare/ he tell him /that/ like this? Does he think that the misery of this moment can be offset by a /confession that’s too late/? Does he think that /fixes/ things? Makes him /feel/ better?
How fucking /dare/ he tie Chuuya to
this moment irrevocably? How /dare/ he take something that is supposed to be /happy/ for Chuuya, and give it to him when he feels his worst?
Now Chuuya can /never/ put this moment behind him. It will /forever/ be the first time someone ever confessed to him, and he’ll never be
Now Chuuya can /never/ put this moment behind him. It will /forever/ be the first time someone ever confessed to him, and he’ll never be
able to forget it. Never be able to move past it and /any/ time someone asks when his first confession was—
He will remember what it feels like /now/.
How /dare/ he.
“No,” he hisses, almost surprised by the amount of seething rage in his tone, “you don’t get to say that to
He will remember what it feels like /now/.
How /dare/ he.
“No,” he hisses, almost surprised by the amount of seething rage in his tone, “you don’t get to say that to
me. Not after what /you/ said to me—“ // You’re too young to know what that word means // “— not after what they /did/ to me.”
Anger— true anger, from the soul— is corruption. It’s like something that lives inside you, something that lives and breathes and has teeth. It takes
Anger— true anger, from the soul— is corruption. It’s like something that lives inside you, something that lives and breathes and has teeth. It takes
over, turns your hands into tools of destruction, makes bloody fangs out of your teeth, cuts your own tongue with the weight of the words spilling from your mouth, carves you up from the inside out.
It makes you a monster. Uncontrollable, /mean/, destructive—
And the worst
It makes you a monster. Uncontrollable, /mean/, destructive—
And the worst
part is that the end of the day, when everything is said and done...
You only have yourself to blame. There is no monster. There's just /you/, at your worst, fire and fear and rage, destroying the things you love.
"I know," Dazai responds, his expression still dead-calm and
You only have yourself to blame. There is no monster. There's just /you/, at your worst, fire and fear and rage, destroying the things you love.
"I know," Dazai responds, his expression still dead-calm and
unmoving in the face of Chuuya's sudden anger, and Chuuya wants to /bite/ it off his face. It's not /fair/ that he gets to look so calm and collected when Chuuya feels like he's imploding from the inside, collapsing into the gravitational star in his chest,ripped apart by a black
hole.
Oh, he /knows/? Furious, Chuuya lurches forward a step forward, slamming his palms into his chest. "Then why the /fuck/ did you say it?"
Maybe this is an unfair thought, and maybe he'll regret it later, but if Dazai had said that /literally/ twelve fucking hours earlier,
Oh, he /knows/? Furious, Chuuya lurches forward a step forward, slamming his palms into his chest. "Then why the /fuck/ did you say it?"
Maybe this is an unfair thought, and maybe he'll regret it later, but if Dazai had said that /literally/ twelve fucking hours earlier,
then Chuuya would've /never/ been taken. He never would've been kidnapped or /drowned/ or threatened, /nothing/!
This is all /his/ fault, and it's not fucking /fair/ that Dazai gets to be all calm while Chuuya has to deal with the fallout.
Chin lifting, Dazai shows the
This is all /his/ fault, and it's not fucking /fair/ that Dazai gets to be all calm while Chuuya has to deal with the fallout.
Chin lifting, Dazai shows the
stubbornness that is usually hidden. It's not that he's /fighting/ Chuuya, he just refuses to take it back. "Because it's /true/, and you should know."
It's--
"Shut up. Just-- shut the /fuck/ up," Chuuya whispers, voice cracking on the last word.
It's too much. Everything is
It's--
"Shut up. Just-- shut the /fuck/ up," Chuuya whispers, voice cracking on the last word.
It's too much. Everything is
too much. Too much pain, too much suffering, too much misery and knowledge and surprise and it's just--
It's just too fucking much. He's been holding himself together pretty well, all things considered, but now all that careful control is cracking.
A sharp keen builds in his
It's just too fucking much. He's been holding himself together pretty well, all things considered, but now all that careful control is cracking.
A sharp keen builds in his
throat, expression crumpling, emotions rising like the tide, too big to contain--
And despite how /pissed/ he is at Dazai right now, how much he's hurt him, how /unfair/ it all is--
He's still the person that makes him feel /better/, he's still the one Chuuya will automatically
And despite how /pissed/ he is at Dazai right now, how much he's hurt him, how /unfair/ it all is--
He's still the person that makes him feel /better/, he's still the one Chuuya will automatically
look towards when he needs comfort. When he needs to be held and reassured.
No matter how much Dazai hurts him, Chuuya will always come back when he needs him again.
He crashes into him, like gravity pulled them together, wrapping his arms around Dazai's waist. Burying his
No matter how much Dazai hurts him, Chuuya will always come back when he needs him again.
He crashes into him, like gravity pulled them together, wrapping his arms around Dazai's waist. Burying his
face into his chest blocks out most of the light, and smears water over his forehead. He doesn't care anymore.
The first sob that rips from him is brutal. It tears through his chest with near vicious intensity, shaking his entire frame. It burns his raw throat as it escapes,
The first sob that rips from him is brutal. It tears through his chest with near vicious intensity, shaking his entire frame. It burns his raw throat as it escapes,
prompting a round of tears to pool in his eyes.
All the gasping cries and chest-wrenching sobs after that are not any easier to bear. It's /relentless/, a flood of emotion that Chuuya breaks under, unable to do anything but cling blindly to Dazai and draw in a raspy breath
All the gasping cries and chest-wrenching sobs after that are not any easier to bear. It's /relentless/, a flood of emotion that Chuuya breaks under, unable to do anything but cling blindly to Dazai and draw in a raspy breath
before it's being punched out of him again. And again and again and /again/, ugly sobs heaving out of him until he's shaking with it.
Dazai's arms come around him lightly. They're just tight enough to make him feel secure without making him feel trapped. One of his hands palms
Dazai's arms come around him lightly. They're just tight enough to make him feel secure without making him feel trapped. One of his hands palms
his spine, supportive. The other slides into his hair, cupping the back of his head and holding him close.
Making him feel /wanted/ and accepted, but never forcing him.
"Shh, little love," he hears from above him, accompanied by the soothing sweep of his thumb over his
Making him feel /wanted/ and accepted, but never forcing him.
"Shh, little love," he hears from above him, accompanied by the soothing sweep of his thumb over his
shoulder blade, "I've got you now."
It's a senseless, almost meaningless platitude, something that shouldn't mean as much as it does.
It works though, soothing a tiny piece of him. A piece that makes him cling harder, digging his nails into Dazai's back to somehow drag himself
It's a senseless, almost meaningless platitude, something that shouldn't mean as much as it does.
It works though, soothing a tiny piece of him. A piece that makes him cling harder, digging his nails into Dazai's back to somehow drag himself
even closer. A piece that is /frantic/ with the idea that Dazai might let /go/, that he might be left /alone/ again, a piece that fears the dark and the cold.
Dazai never lets him go, not even for a moment. He just holds him as he cries, as he relieves all the stress and pain of
Dazai never lets him go, not even for a moment. He just holds him as he cries, as he relieves all the stress and pain of
the last sixteen hours. As he mourns the tragedy of what happened to him, mourns the fight he had with Dazai, as he processes everything he's learned today.
It's not long before Chuuya tires himself out. He simply doesn't have the energy to cry that long right now. Between his
It's not long before Chuuya tires himself out. He simply doesn't have the energy to cry that long right now. Between his
ordeal, how long he's been awake, and his lingering exhaustion from his sickness, he's worn out quickly. It's not long before he's swaying on his feet, sobs dwindling down to an occasional sniffle.
Dazai is comfortingly solid, a warm furnace that Chuuya can lean against and know
Dazai is comfortingly solid, a warm furnace that Chuuya can lean against and know
that he won't fall. He doesn't move or say anything beyond the soothing sweeps of his hands, as he waits for Chuuya to make the first move.
Licking his lips, Chuuya lets out a shuddering sigh. His face is wet. He's aware of it with a tingling, /crawling/ awareness, something he
Licking his lips, Chuuya lets out a shuddering sigh. His face is wet. He's aware of it with a tingling, /crawling/ awareness, something he
can't escape from. It's not enough to have him tripping into a panic--yet-- but he /feels/ it.
"I want Yoko," he mumbles eventually, every part of him aching. He doesn't want to wash anymore or be clean or talk. He just wants to go to /sleep/. "And Baki."
"Okay," Dazai says,
"I want Yoko," he mumbles eventually, every part of him aching. He doesn't want to wash anymore or be clean or talk. He just wants to go to /sleep/. "And Baki."
"Okay," Dazai says,
the hand leaving his hair. "Let me finish with your hair, and then you can go."
Chuuya doesn't fight or agree. He just stands there, breathing and fighting his eyelids which want to fall, and lets Dazai carefully wash all the conditioner out of his hair. He's probably hindering
Chuuya doesn't fight or agree. He just stands there, breathing and fighting his eyelids which want to fall, and lets Dazai carefully wash all the conditioner out of his hair. He's probably hindering
the process by refusing to move, but if he is, Dazai isn't complaining.
One of the side affects of his mini-breakdown is that his face /is/ mostly clean. The last lingering spots of filth are rubbed away by Dazai's wettened fingertips.
When he's completely rinsed off, the water
One of the side affects of his mini-breakdown is that his face /is/ mostly clean. The last lingering spots of filth are rubbed away by Dazai's wettened fingertips.
When he's completely rinsed off, the water
gets shut off and the showerhead replaced back in it's cradle. He's gently urged out of the shower by Dazai, and wrapped up in a heated towel and slowly rubbed dry.
He's given one of Dazai's shirts to sleep in, and one of his pairs of underwear. It's his typical choice of
He's given one of Dazai's shirts to sleep in, and one of his pairs of underwear. It's his typical choice of
sleep wear, and the sight pulls at the corner of his lips, just slightly.
Back in the bedroom, Baki is stretched out luxuriously across his claimed pillow, looking soft and inviting. He looks asleep but he's purring loud enough that Chuuya can hear it a few feet away.
He crawls
Back in the bedroom, Baki is stretched out luxuriously across his claimed pillow, looking soft and inviting. He looks asleep but he's purring loud enough that Chuuya can hear it a few feet away.
He crawls
into bed, nearly tearing up again at how soft and warm it is. The perfect thing to sink into and /sleep/, wrapped up in cuddles and warmth.
Dazai's hand on his arm stops him. Chuuya shoots him a look, too tired to be irritated but also annoyed at the delay.
"I know you said
Dazai's hand on his arm stops him. Chuuya shoots him a look, too tired to be irritated but also annoyed at the delay.
"I know you said
your head was okay," he starts, looking uncharacteristically nervous. "But would it be okay if I called one of my friends with medical experience, just to make sure? I don't want to /push/ you or make you uncomfortable, it... it would just make me feel more comfortable."
A big
A big
part of Chuuya wants to tell him /no/, that he's too tired and he's going to bed now. He doubts that Dazai would actually argue, but he also knows that a worried Dazai /hovers/. He frets and worries. and he probably won't sleep if he's worrying about him.
Besides, it would be
Besides, it would be
good to know for himself too. He feels...okay, mostly just wrung out and exhausted in every sense of the word, but he doesn't want to risk anything.
Heaving a sigh, he nods. He changes his course at the last moment, choosing instead to sit beside Baki and drag the cat into his
Heaving a sigh, he nods. He changes his course at the last moment, choosing instead to sit beside Baki and drag the cat into his
lap. Baki lets out a mew of protest, but settles into his arms quickly.
Yoko jumps up onto the bed, seeming to recognize the somber moment. She comes up to sniff Chuuya, pushing her head under his hand in a silent, mostly-polite demand for pets.
Smiling slightly, Chuuya puts
Yoko jumps up onto the bed, seeming to recognize the somber moment. She comes up to sniff Chuuya, pushing her head under his hand in a silent, mostly-polite demand for pets.
Smiling slightly, Chuuya puts
his hand on her head to give her scratches. She's a /demanding/ thing, whining and needy, but she's very warm when she plops down on the bed beside him and her unconditional,vibrant love is /comforting/. It's uncomplicated, easy, safe.
Dazai moves away for a few moments, letting
Dazai moves away for a few moments, letting
the three of them settle in together. He's gotten dressed in his own clothes-- black joggers that look a little too formal for sleep and a plain tee-- and he pulls his phone out from his pocket to make his call.
Baki stretches, paws curled up and pressed to his face. His tail
Baki stretches, paws curled up and pressed to his face. His tail
tickles Yoko's nose, making her sneeze and snuffle at him grumpily. He purrs in response, like he's gloating that /he/ gets the lap spot while she's regulated to laying beside him with her head pressed against his leg.
If Chuuya cared to hear what Dazai was saving, he's still
If Chuuya cared to hear what Dazai was saving, he's still
within listening range as he speaks into the phone--
But he doesn't. He's too tired to care about that as well, and he's barely managing to sit upright without falling asleep as it is. Especially with Baki cuddled up with him, like he always is when Chuuya is sleeping.
He
But he doesn't. He's too tired to care about that as well, and he's barely managing to sit upright without falling asleep as it is. Especially with Baki cuddled up with him, like he always is when Chuuya is sleeping.
He
does hear when the call ends though, a short goodbye and thanks before Dazai is pulling his phone away from his ear. After hanging up, he pushes the device into his pocket again and comes back over.
He crouches at the edge of the bed, looking up at Chuuya with a sincere gaze.
He crouches at the edge of the bed, looking up at Chuuya with a sincere gaze.
His brown eyes are bottomless, a honeyed well that he could easily fall into. "I have someone coming," he says, reaching out to skim his fingertips over his knee, "Her name is Yosano. But she's... involved with your sister as well, so it's probably safe to assume that Kouyou will
come as well. I didn't call her, but I thought you would want to know."
Oh, /more/ secrets that his sister is keeping from him.
He's tired of it. Why does no one /trust/ him?
"I don't want to see her right now," he mumbles, closing his eyes. He needs time to process what he
Oh, /more/ secrets that his sister is keeping from him.
He's tired of it. Why does no one /trust/ him?
"I don't want to see her right now," he mumbles, closing his eyes. He needs time to process what he
learned today. Time to come up with /questions/, time to let the seething, roiling anger inside him cool down so he doesn’t say something he regrets.
“Okay,” Dazai responds, mouth forming. “I won’t let her come in the room. Is Yosano still okay? I could try to call someone else
“Okay,” Dazai responds, mouth forming. “I won’t let her come in the room. Is Yosano still okay? I could try to call someone else
if you’d prefer?”
Honestly, Chuuya doesn’t /care/ right now, though is he touched by the way Dazai asks. His most immediate concern is getting checked out as quickly as possible so he can /sleep/. It doesn’t matter who does it, really, as long as Dazai trusts them.
“No, it’s
Honestly, Chuuya doesn’t /care/ right now, though is he touched by the way Dazai asks. His most immediate concern is getting checked out as quickly as possible so he can /sleep/. It doesn’t matter who does it, really, as long as Dazai trusts them.
“No, it’s
fine,” he mutters, shrugging.
Brown eyes flit over his face for a long moment, checking his expression. Trying to see if he’s just going along with it when he doesn’t want to.
When Dazai doesn’t find anything concerning, he offers him a small smile, grateful. It’s one of
Brown eyes flit over his face for a long moment, checking his expression. Trying to see if he’s just going along with it when he doesn’t want to.
When Dazai doesn’t find anything concerning, he offers him a small smile, grateful. It’s one of
Chuuya’s favorites, lopsided and showing off his single dimple, small and sweet and sincere. It’s like a ray of sun in the darkness to see again, a spot of light that makes a spark of warmth start to grow.
Fingertips brush over his bare knee again, tracing the outline of the
Fingertips brush over his bare knee again, tracing the outline of the
joint underneath the skin. “Alright. Can I brush your hair while we wait?”
Honestly, Chuuya was fully intending to go to bed without brushing his hair at all, even though he knows it’s a bad idea. He hasn’t even put his usual products in it, so he /knows/ he’s going to wake up
Honestly, Chuuya was fully intending to go to bed without brushing his hair at all, even though he knows it’s a bad idea. He hasn’t even put his usual products in it, so he /knows/ he’s going to wake up
with it tangled and messy in the morning. But that’s a problem for future him—
Or for Dazai, it seems.
He nods again, slightly, pulling Baki up into his arms so he can bury his face in his soft fur. The bath he gave him a couple weeks ago has left him /extra/ soft and shiny,
Or for Dazai, it seems.
He nods again, slightly, pulling Baki up into his arms so he can bury his face in his soft fur. The bath he gave him a couple weeks ago has left him /extra/ soft and shiny,
and he still has the slightest smell of lavender.
It’s comforting, to hold him and just sit here and breathe him in. To feel Yoko panting happily on his heel, and know she’s happy to see him.
Dazai leaves and comes back a moment later with the wide-toothed comb Chuuya uses to
It’s comforting, to hold him and just sit here and breathe him in. To feel Yoko panting happily on his heel, and know she’s happy to see him.
Dazai leaves and comes back a moment later with the wide-toothed comb Chuuya uses to
brush his hair after he washes it. Climbing onto the bed, he settles behind Chuuya with one leg on one side of his hip, and the other heel tucked close to his body because Yoko does not move even an inch.
Dazai starts from the bottom, meticulously pulling the comb through all
Dazai starts from the bottom, meticulously pulling the comb through all
the tangles. With how careful he is-- holding the air above the knot, separating the tangles with a tooth of the comb and working in small sections-- Chuuya doesn't feel a single pull of his hand.
It's caring, in such a small and simple way that it feels /huge/. It's not a big
It's caring, in such a small and simple way that it feels /huge/. It's not a big
gesture, not something that most people would ooh and aah over. It's just making sure Chuuya is clean and cared for, making sure he's comfortable. Taking care of him when Chuuya is too tired and too hurt to do so himself.
It means...
A lot. It means he /cares/, even when it's
It means...
A lot. It means he /cares/, even when it's
hard, even when things aren't perfect between them, even when Chuuya is angry and hurt and mean, even when Dazai is being, admittedly, a fucking moron.
It makes Chuuya feel cherished and cared for.
By the time Dazai is done loosely braiding his hair down his back and tying it
It makes Chuuya feel cherished and cared for.
By the time Dazai is done loosely braiding his hair down his back and tying it
off with a hairtie around his wrist, there's a notification bell coming from Dazai's pocket.
He digs his phone out of his pocket to check the next. "They're here," he says, sliding out from behind Chuuya again.
He misses the warmth of him pressed up along his back, but he
He digs his phone out of his pocket to check the next. "They're here," he says, sliding out from behind Chuuya again.
He misses the warmth of him pressed up along his back, but he
doesn't say anything as Dazai leaves the room. He can hear him trotting down the stairs, to let his doctor friend in.
Yoko lifts her head, watching the door with narrowed eyes, clearly on alert. She's stiff, fidgety, waiting for any reason to lunge and pounce. Even Chuuya's
Yoko lifts her head, watching the door with narrowed eyes, clearly on alert. She's stiff, fidgety, waiting for any reason to lunge and pounce. Even Chuuya's
hand petting her ears doesn't make her relax.
This time, he doesn't recognize the pair of footsteps that come up the stairs. They're lighter than Dazai's, slower, and they sound more /deliberate/. Must be the doctor.
From downstairs, he can hear a commotion. Something that
This time, he doesn't recognize the pair of footsteps that come up the stairs. They're lighter than Dazai's, slower, and they sound more /deliberate/. Must be the doctor.
From downstairs, he can hear a commotion. Something that
sounds like hissed yelling, obviously trying to keep the volume down but still angry. Sounds like his sister, and she's /pissed/ that Dazai isn't letting her up the stairs.
Serves her right. Let /her/ sit in fuming annoyance for a while, see how /she/ likes information being
Serves her right. Let /her/ sit in fuming annoyance for a while, see how /she/ likes information being
withheld from her. See how /she/ likes being kept in the dark.
It's petty, sure, but at the same time it's only /fair/.
There's a light knock on the door. It sounds remarkably like a knock at the doctors office, quick and professional. It's nice that she knocked before coming
It's petty, sure, but at the same time it's only /fair/.
There's a light knock on the door. It sounds remarkably like a knock at the doctors office, quick and professional. It's nice that she knocked before coming
in, even if he was already expecting her.
"Come in," he responds, raising his voice just loud enough to be heard through the closed door. His voice is raspy,burning a little.
He's thirsty, somehow. It feels /wrong/ to be thirsty after the amount of water he was forced to ingest
"Come in," he responds, raising his voice just loud enough to be heard through the closed door. His voice is raspy,burning a little.
He's thirsty, somehow. It feels /wrong/ to be thirsty after the amount of water he was forced to ingest
today. His stomach felt so full with water it sloshed, and he somehow is still thirsty.
His appetite hasn't returned yet, though.
The door opens, and in steps one of the /tallest/ woman Chuuya has ever seen. She soars over him and is probably not that far from Dazai's height
His appetite hasn't returned yet, though.
The door opens, and in steps one of the /tallest/ woman Chuuya has ever seen. She soars over him and is probably not that far from Dazai's height
even without the heeled boots she's wearing.
It's rude to wear shoes in the house, but she doesn't seem to care, crossing over to him and coming to stand right before him.
"Hello," she greets,violet eyes flashing as her full lips melt into a friendly smile. Her hair, short and
It's rude to wear shoes in the house, but she doesn't seem to care, crossing over to him and coming to stand right before him.
"Hello," she greets,violet eyes flashing as her full lips melt into a friendly smile. Her hair, short and
pitch-black, is slicked back to expose her forehead. "So you're the kid brother, huh?"
There's something about her that isn't like any other woman Chuuya has ever met. The boots, the way of speaking, the tight jeans with the chain belt, her sharp eyeliner--
It looks more
There's something about her that isn't like any other woman Chuuya has ever met. The boots, the way of speaking, the tight jeans with the chain belt, her sharp eyeliner--
It looks more
/androgynous/ than strictly feminine, more in line with an /aesthetic/ rather than a gender.
"I guess," he says,drudging up a sliver of energy, "Though I haven't heard anything of /you/."
The bag she's carrying with long,stiletto nails gets dropped to the floor unceremoniously.
"I guess," he says,drudging up a sliver of energy, "Though I haven't heard anything of /you/."
The bag she's carrying with long,stiletto nails gets dropped to the floor unceremoniously.
"I have to say that this isn't exactly how I would've chosen to meet you," she draws out, crouching down to pull a stethoscope from her bag.
No, Chuuya wouldn't have wanted to meet his sister's...whatever Yosano is, like this either. He wouldn't have wanted to meet /anyone/ like
No, Chuuya wouldn't have wanted to meet his sister's...whatever Yosano is, like this either. He wouldn't have wanted to meet /anyone/ like
this, to be truthful. Not when he feels like utter shit, and the first impression he makes is horrible. He doesn't want anyone to remember him like this.
"How do you know my sister?" he asks, watching warily as she slips the stethoscope around her neck.
Before she reaches for
"How do you know my sister?" he asks, watching warily as she slips the stethoscope around her neck.
Before she reaches for
him, she first offers her fingers to Yoko to sniff. She must know the dogs then, and knows how to handle them. At least knows enough not to trip her protective instincts by grabbing for Chuuya too quickly.
Yoko sniffs her hand intently, wary. She doesn't growl or warn her off
Yoko sniffs her hand intently, wary. She doesn't growl or warn her off
but she /does/ watch intently as Yosano gestures for Chuuya to unbutton his shirt so she can have access to his chest.
"Well," she hedges, clearly hesitating and unsure of what to say. "We're...involved, but that is probably a story you should get from her instead."
Ah. Antoher
"Well," she hedges, clearly hesitating and unsure of what to say. "We're...involved, but that is probably a story you should get from her instead."
Ah. Antoher
non-answer. Chuuya is getting /sick/ of those.
He knows the best way to get answers is to corner Kouyou himself and interrogate her, but he's too tired for that right now.
He takes a deep breath when Yosano instructs him to, sitting up straight so she can listen to his heart.
He knows the best way to get answers is to corner Kouyou himself and interrogate her, but he's too tired for that right now.
He takes a deep breath when Yosano instructs him to, sitting up straight so she can listen to his heart.
He holds out his arm so she can take his blood pressure, opens his mouth so she can look inside, follows her fingers with his eyes as she moves them back and forth through his vision. All the basic tests that are run during a physical exam.
Eventually, when she’s carefully
Eventually, when she’s carefully
probing his throat for injuries, he can’t help but ask. “Why didn’t she tell me? That she was in the Mafia.”
The touches slow, and he can just barely see the thoughtful frown on her face with the way his head is tilted.
“That’s something you should ask her,” Yosano responds,
The touches slow, and he can just barely see the thoughtful frown on her face with the way his head is tilted.
“That’s something you should ask her,” Yosano responds,
thé flash of cosmetically-sharpened fangs showing when she opens her mouth, “but if I had to say, it was probably to keep you safe.”
Neither of them mention the fact that that plan /utterly/ failed, but the knowledge is there, hanging like a poison cloud in the air. Neither of
Neither of them mention the fact that that plan /utterly/ failed, but the knowledge is there, hanging like a poison cloud in the air. Neither of
them have talked about what Chuuya went through, and she hasn’t asked any questions.
Silent acknowledgment. The /worst/ kind, because Chuuya knows that she knows, she’s just being /polite/. Treating him like a fragile, broken thing that might break at the mention of it.
Maybe
Silent acknowledgment. The /worst/ kind, because Chuuya knows that she knows, she’s just being /polite/. Treating him like a fragile, broken thing that might break at the mention of it.
Maybe
she’s right. Maybe he will break.
Or maybe he’s already been broken.
Swallowing hard, Chuuya ducks his head. She’s feeling his wrists now, examining the rising bruises brought on by the rope. The friction burns sting when she touches them, but it doesn’t feel like there’s
Or maybe he’s already been broken.
Swallowing hard, Chuuya ducks his head. She’s feeling his wrists now, examining the rising bruises brought on by the rope. The friction burns sting when she touches them, but it doesn’t feel like there’s
anything more seriously wrong.
“Will you tell her I’m sorry?”
That makes her pause, looking up at him from her position crouching on the floor. “For what?”
“I—,” he starts, guilty tears pool in his eyes, shame twisting him into knots, “I told them /everything/.”
——— +
“Will you tell her I’m sorry?”
That makes her pause, looking up at him from her position crouching on the floor. “For what?”
“I—,” he starts, guilty tears pool in his eyes, shame twisting him into knots, “I told them /everything/.”
——— +
At the bottom of the stairs, Dazai is facing his /own/ dilemma.
Namely, the fact that Kouyou is /furious/ that he's blocking the way up the stairs and won't let her up to see Chuuya. She's pacing back and forth in front of him, fists clenched.
She looks like she wants to slap
Namely, the fact that Kouyou is /furious/ that he's blocking the way up the stairs and won't let her up to see Chuuya. She's pacing back and forth in front of him, fists clenched.
She looks like she wants to slap
him, and he doesn't blame her for feeling that way. Hell, there's a /large/ part of him that blames himself for--
Well, for /everything/. Every part of this can be traced back to /his/ mistakes, and even when he tries to make it /better/-- like telling Chuuya who his sister
Well, for /everything/. Every part of this can be traced back to /his/ mistakes, and even when he tries to make it /better/-- like telling Chuuya who his sister
really was, telling him who /he/ was, telling him that he loved him-- he only ever makes it worse.
No matter how long he lives, he will /never/ forget the way Chuuya's expression crumpled into agony in the shower. How fearful he was of the water, how /trusting/ he still was,
No matter how long he lives, he will /never/ forget the way Chuuya's expression crumpled into agony in the shower. How fearful he was of the water, how /trusting/ he still was,
even though Dazai didn't deserve it.
And now his confession seemed to be the thing to shatter him into pieces. How /agonized/ he sounded as he sobbed in his arms, how exhausted he looked when he curled up in bed.
He can never make up for that. Chuuya was right for being angry
And now his confession seemed to be the thing to shatter him into pieces. How /agonized/ he sounded as he sobbed in his arms, how exhausted he looked when he curled up in bed.
He can never make up for that. Chuuya was right for being angry
with him for confessing when he did.
But he couldn't /help/ it. He was so relieved when he saw that Chuuya was still /alive/, mostly whole even if damaged, so /heartbroken/ for the pain he was obviously in--
And he couldn't /not/ say it.
It's probably some form of sick, karmic
But he couldn't /help/ it. He was so relieved when he saw that Chuuya was still /alive/, mostly whole even if damaged, so /heartbroken/ for the pain he was obviously in--
And he couldn't /not/ say it.
It's probably some form of sick, karmic
justice that every time they confess to each other, they just end up hurting each other. It's probably what Dazai deserves, even if Chuuya doesn't.
Still, he's determined not to mess /this/ up. He's holding onto this /simple/ task with the desperation of a failed man.
Chuuya
Still, he's determined not to mess /this/ up. He's holding onto this /simple/ task with the desperation of a failed man.
Chuuya
said he didn't want to see his sister right now. After the ordeal he's been through, he can completely understand needing space to process everything that happened. He respects that.
So, Kouyou will not be seeing Chuuya today. She can yell at him, threaten him, hit him, put a
So, Kouyou will not be seeing Chuuya today. She can yell at him, threaten him, hit him, put a
damn bullet in his head and a knife in his heart and Dazai will /not/ move.
The /only/ thing that matters to him right now is helping Chuuya get better in /any/ way he can.
"You don't have the /right/ to keep me away from him," Kouyou hisses at him, whirling around to pace
The /only/ thing that matters to him right now is helping Chuuya get better in /any/ way he can.
"You don't have the /right/ to keep me away from him," Kouyou hisses at him, whirling around to pace
back the other way. Her hair is down today, long and vibrant red, swaying with her every movement.
It's similar enough to Chuuya's hair-- just the straight version-- that the sight makes his heart tighten. It's hard to breathe around the stone weight in his chest, but he
It's similar enough to Chuuya's hair-- just the straight version-- that the sight makes his heart tighten. It's hard to breathe around the stone weight in his chest, but he
manages it. "He was the one who said he didn't want to see you right now. I'm not /keeping/ you from him, I'm just respecting his wishes."
"Liar," she shoots back, her hand lashing out in instinctual reaction. Her manicured red stiletto nails slice through the air like claws.
"Liar," she shoots back, her hand lashing out in instinctual reaction. Her manicured red stiletto nails slice through the air like claws.
Dazai's pretty sure the only reason she's not actually trying to claw at his face is because Kozo is sitting at his side, hackles raised as his eyes follow her every move. He won't move unless he gives the order, but if she gets physically aggressive with Dazai, his training will
kick in and he will react.
Behind her, Oda is leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. Despite his relaxed posture and the fact that his fingers are far from his weapons, his expression is tense and vigilant.
If any of them move too fast or too
Behind her, Oda is leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. Despite his relaxed posture and the fact that his fingers are far from his weapons, his expression is tense and vigilant.
If any of them move too fast or too
violently, the entire room will dissolve into a fight. The tension is crackling between all of them, one wrong move away from snapping.
"This is /your/ fault," Kouyou snaps at him,jabbing her finger at him. "If it wasn't for /you/, he'd be perfectly safe. You caused all of this!
"This is /your/ fault," Kouyou snaps at him,jabbing her finger at him. "If it wasn't for /you/, he'd be perfectly safe. You caused all of this!
You don't get to tell me I /can't/ see him!"
He understands why she's upset. He's upset too and he's actually /seen/ Chuuya. Took in all the details and his response, saw firsthand how affected he was. He understands.
But that doesn't mean he's not going to /fight/ back, and
He understands why she's upset. He's upset too and he's actually /seen/ Chuuya. Took in all the details and his response, saw firsthand how affected he was. He understands.
But that doesn't mean he's not going to /fight/ back, and
while he will /agree/ that he has a lot of blame in this situation--
That doesn't mean she's /blameless/ and that she can put /everything/ on his shoulders when Kouyou has almost as much blame as he does.
"/I'm/ not telling you that you can't see him. I'm telling you /he/ said
That doesn't mean she's /blameless/ and that she can put /everything/ on his shoulders when Kouyou has almost as much blame as he does.
"/I'm/ not telling you that you can't see him. I'm telling you /he/ said
that you couldn’t see him.Besides,” his lip curls, showing off a set of shiny, cutting teeth, “I’m hardly the /only/ one to blame for this, aren’t I? He didn’t know you were the head of the mafia and therefore had a target on his back, until an /hour/ ago.”
That makes her still.
That makes her still.
She’s glaring at him, breathing hard with her eyebrows lowered thunderously over her razor-sharp blue eyes. “You /told/ him?”
She sounds /absurdly/ pissed off about that, almost as angry as she was when she found out what happened to him.
“Of course I told him,” he scoffs,
She sounds /absurdly/ pissed off about that, almost as angry as she was when she found out what happened to him.
“Of course I told him,” he scoffs,
crossing his own arms over his chest. “He has a right to know, and obviously /you/ weren’t going to tell him. Someone had to. He wasn’t kidnapped /just/ because of me— his connection to /you/ puts him in danger as well.”
She falls into seething silence at that, nostrils flaring.
She falls into seething silence at that, nostrils flaring.
He can tell she /wants/ to argue, but she can’t really find a good point.
Because he’s right. Kouyou has been /lucky/ so far that Chuuya hadn’t suffered any consequences for her position. Most children or family related to the higher ups of the Mafia are placed under a
Because he’s right. Kouyou has been /lucky/ so far that Chuuya hadn’t suffered any consequences for her position. Most children or family related to the higher ups of the Mafia are placed under a
protective guard. Kept safe in private or home schooling, never going anywhere without a guard detail. They are made /aware/ of the danger they might face some day, and so they are prepared for that potential possibility.
Some part of him understands why she never told Chuuya.
Some part of him understands why she never told Chuuya.
When she first joined the mafia and first started to climb the ranks, she was barely more than a child herself. Chuuya, certainly, wasn’t old enough to understand something like that and it would’ve been too easy for him to get them /both/ in trouble if he bragged to the wrong
person about how cool his sister was.
Some part of him is even /grateful/ that she didn’t tell him because—
They never would’ve met if she did, right? She would’ve warned him off if Dazai, told him whatever stories it took to keep him away, and they never would’ve met.
Trying
Some part of him is even /grateful/ that she didn’t tell him because—
They never would’ve met if she did, right? She would’ve warned him off if Dazai, told him whatever stories it took to keep him away, and they never would’ve met.
Trying
to imagine his life without the little chibi in it is /painful/. He never realized how intertwined their lives had become until they fought.
Chuuya is in his house, in his car, adored by his pets. He’s in Dazai’s every waking thought, in his breath, made a home for himself in
Chuuya is in his house, in his car, adored by his pets. He’s in Dazai’s every waking thought, in his breath, made a home for himself in
his very soul. There’s no part of Dazai—nothing he owns or makes or is— that doesn’t belong to Chuuya too.
He can’t imagine a life without that. Without him.
Still, even as he’s thankful Kouyou was /stupid/ when it came to her little brother—
He won’t let her put the blame
He can’t imagine a life without that. Without him.
Still, even as he’s thankful Kouyou was /stupid/ when it came to her little brother—
He won’t let her put the blame
entirely on his shoulders. She can like it or not, but he /knows/ that Chuuya wasn’t kidnapped for /just/ his relation to Dazai. He has no doubt that Fyodor’s questioning involved detail on his sister.
They are both to blame in this, for different reasons. They both had an
They are both to blame in this, for different reasons. They both had an
obligation to keep him safe and secure—
And they /both/ failed. No matter what happens from here on out, they will never be able to make up for the fact that Chuuya was /water boarded/ because of them. They can blame eachother and apologize and cry and so many other useless
And they /both/ failed. No matter what happens from here on out, they will never be able to make up for the fact that Chuuya was /water boarded/ because of them. They can blame eachother and apologize and cry and so many other useless
platitudes—
And it would never take away the fact that Chuuya is afraid of /water/ now. It will never make the fact that he probably won’t be able to take an easy, peaceful shower or bath by himself for months easier to bear.
“Please, Dazai,” Kouyou says, voice cracking with
And it would never take away the fact that Chuuya is afraid of /water/ now. It will never make the fact that he probably won’t be able to take an easy, peaceful shower or bath by himself for months easier to bear.
“Please, Dazai,” Kouyou says, voice cracking with
emotion. In this moment, she’s not the Port Mafia Boss, cold and dangerous. She’s not /powerful/, not right now. All that headstrong anger she usually hides behind has faded away, leaving nothing but shaky fear.
Now, she’s a sister who nearly lost her little brother tonight.
Now, she’s a sister who nearly lost her little brother tonight.
“Please just let me see him. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
Dazai does understand. If the circumstances were /switched/, he doubts there would be anything or anyone that could keep him from Chuuya.
But the circumstances aren’t switched. “No. You can’t see him. He doesn’t
Dazai does understand. If the circumstances were /switched/, he doubts there would be anything or anyone that could keep him from Chuuya.
But the circumstances aren’t switched. “No. You can’t see him. He doesn’t
want to see you. He needs some space right now, and you need to respect that. Yosano is checking on him now, to make sure he doesn’t need a hospital.”
Kouyou deflates, seeming to realize that he’s not going to back down. She takes two steps backwards, leaning against Oda and the
Kouyou deflates, seeming to realize that he’s not going to back down. She takes two steps backwards, leaning against Oda and the
couch like she’s too tired to hold up her own weight anymore.
He can understand the sentiment. The last eighteen hours have felt like they’ve dragged on for years.
“How do I know you’re not doing this on purpose? How do I know you’re not /manipulating/ him to— to keep me away
He can understand the sentiment. The last eighteen hours have felt like they’ve dragged on for years.
“How do I know you’re not doing this on purpose? How do I know you’re not /manipulating/ him to— to keep me away
from him? To /hurt/ him? To hurt /me/? How do I know this isn’t some set-up?” Kouyou’s tone is hoarse when she speaks again, and her voice is quiet, like she’s talking to herself.
The worst part is that she’s not wrong for thinking things like that. In another time, this is
The worst part is that she’s not wrong for thinking things like that. In another time, this is
exactly what he’d do. Find somebody’s weakness by finding their /family/, get close to his chosen tool for revenge. Drive a wedge between his tool and his target, isolate them, make them completely and utterly dependent on him, and then destroy them /both/ when the right time
came.
But this /isn’t/ another time, and the fact that he has to /prove/ that his feelings for Chuuya are genuine and not a ruse— even though he’s expressed no /desire/ for Kouyou’s position and therefore has no need to harm her— fucking sucks. Doubly so because /he/ feels that
But this /isn’t/ another time, and the fact that he has to /prove/ that his feelings for Chuuya are genuine and not a ruse— even though he’s expressed no /desire/ for Kouyou’s position and therefore has no need to harm her— fucking sucks. Doubly so because /he/ feels that
he doesn’t need to explain himself to her.
To Chuuya? Yes, and he will at the first opportunity.
To her? No.
“Guess you’ll just have to trust me,” he says, shrugging. “I would never hurt him.”
The only response he gets to /that/ is a disbelieving snort, just condescending
To Chuuya? Yes, and he will at the first opportunity.
To her? No.
“Guess you’ll just have to trust me,” he says, shrugging. “I would never hurt him.”
The only response he gets to /that/ is a disbelieving snort, just condescending
enough to make his jaw clench.
She's not /wrong/ to think along those lies, but it still /hurts/ to be thought the worst of all the time, even when he's worked /so/ hard over the past few years to prove that he's not /cruel/. He's--
He's not a /bad/ person. He was a messed up
She's not /wrong/ to think along those lies, but it still /hurts/ to be thought the worst of all the time, even when he's worked /so/ hard over the past few years to prove that he's not /cruel/. He's--
He's not a /bad/ person. He was a messed up
kid in an even more messed up situation. Yes, he hurt people, and yes, he even enjoyed it--
But he's /different/ now. He's /been/ different, and it fucking /sucks/ to constantly be reduced to the crimes he committed years ago. To only be viewed as the monster Mori made him to
But he's /different/ now. He's /been/ different, and it fucking /sucks/ to constantly be reduced to the crimes he committed years ago. To only be viewed as the monster Mori made him to
be.
A monster that Chuuya never saw him as and Dazai never /wanted/ him to see him as. That's why it hurt so badly when he brought it up the way he did.
Before any of them can say anything else, the door upstairs is opening again. The sound of Yosano's boots--heavy and black,
A monster that Chuuya never saw him as and Dazai never /wanted/ him to see him as. That's why it hurt so badly when he brought it up the way he did.
Before any of them can say anything else, the door upstairs is opening again. The sound of Yosano's boots--heavy and black,
knee-high, a harken back to the lethal steel-toes she /used/ to wear on their missions-- approaching the stairs makes his heart skip in his chest.
Yosano is a capable medic-- not /formally/ trained, but she learned at the right hand of Mori, who /was/ trained-- and she's
Yosano is a capable medic-- not /formally/ trained, but she learned at the right hand of Mori, who /was/ trained-- and she's
stitched him up more times than he can count. He trusts her to tell him the /truth/, even if she's not necessarily gentle about it.
Kouyou perks up too, her eyes finally leaving Dazai and moving towards the top of the stairs.
"Oh, stop looking at me like I'm some angel of
Kouyou perks up too, her eyes finally leaving Dazai and moving towards the top of the stairs.
"Oh, stop looking at me like I'm some angel of
death,” she says, waving one of her hands casually.
If she’s making jokes, that must mean it’s /good/ news, right? If it was serious, she wouldn’t be speaking so casually, right?
She comes to a stop on the step above Dazai, her duffel bag slung over one slim shoulder. Despite
If she’s making jokes, that must mean it’s /good/ news, right? If it was serious, she wouldn’t be speaking so casually, right?
She comes to a stop on the step above Dazai, her duffel bag slung over one slim shoulder. Despite
how heavy it looks— and how heavy it actually is, Dazai would know that from experience because she used to make him haul the damn thing around— the way she carries it looks effortless.
“As far as I can tell, he’ll be fine,” she says without preamble, “Exhausted and very
“As far as I can tell, he’ll be fine,” she says without preamble, “Exhausted and very
understandably upset. He’s probably cried himself to sleep by now.”
Dazai’s heart sinks in his chest. He was crying again?
He knows that’s /normal/, but he can’t help but feel upset when his baby is crying. He shouldn’t /ever/ cry, and now he’s hurt and upset and probably in a
Dazai’s heart sinks in his chest. He was crying again?
He knows that’s /normal/, but he can’t help but feel upset when his baby is crying. He shouldn’t /ever/ cry, and now he’s hurt and upset and probably in a
lot of pain. At least emotionally and mentally, if not physically.
There’s nothing that Dazai can do to take that away from him. He can’t go back in time and make himself /think/ before starting their fight. He can’t go back and stop him before he left. There’s nothing he can do
There’s nothing that Dazai can do to take that away from him. He can’t go back in time and make himself /think/ before starting their fight. He can’t go back and stop him before he left. There’s nothing he can do
to /fix/ this.
“He said he didn’t have any seizures when he was kidnapped, so as far as I can tell there’s no need to bring him into the emergency room. I do recommend that you are /very/ strict on his medications from now on. Keep an eye out for any minor seizing, and if he
“He said he didn’t have any seizures when he was kidnapped, so as far as I can tell there’s no need to bring him into the emergency room. I do recommend that you are /very/ strict on his medications from now on. Keep an eye out for any minor seizing, and if he
shows any signs of that, bring him in immediately. I’m sure the neurologist you took him to gave you a rundown on symptoms?”
At Dazai’s nod, she continues, “Other than that, keep an eye on his breathing to make sure he doesn’t develop pneumonia. He’ll be tired the next few days
At Dazai’s nod, she continues, “Other than that, keep an eye on his breathing to make sure he doesn’t develop pneumonia. He’ll be tired the next few days
and emotional, but that’s normal. When’s your follow up with the neurologist?”
Dazai called to make that appointment only a week ago. It feels so /long/ ago. “Just under three weeks.”
Yosano nods, coming the rest of the way down the stairs. Dazai moves out of her way quickly,
Dazai called to make that appointment only a week ago. It feels so /long/ ago. “Just under three weeks.”
Yosano nods, coming the rest of the way down the stairs. Dazai moves out of her way quickly,
motioning for Kozo to do the same. “Then my advice is to just to keep an eye on him, keep him on his regimens, and wait until the appointment.”
That’s it? /Wait/? That feels so /little/, that feels like /nothing/. How is Dazai supposed to just sit there and watch? Isn’t there
That’s it? /Wait/? That feels so /little/, that feels like /nothing/. How is Dazai supposed to just sit there and watch? Isn’t there
something more he can do?
(Sometimes, the most painful part of recovery is in the /waiting/. Healing takes time, and every minute can leave you feeling dried up and useless.)
“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital anyways? Just in case?” Kouyou pipes up behind him. She’s
(Sometimes, the most painful part of recovery is in the /waiting/. Healing takes time, and every minute can leave you feeling dried up and useless.)
“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital anyways? Just in case?” Kouyou pipes up behind him. She’s
looking at Yosano like she’s heaven-sent, someone who can give her all the answers to her questions.
“Well,” Yosano pauses to hand off her duffel bag to Oda, who takes it without hesitation or effort, “Physically, that might be the best option. They can do more tests than I can
“Well,” Yosano pauses to hand off her duffel bag to Oda, who takes it without hesitation or effort, “Physically, that might be the best option. They can do more tests than I can
and they have a lot more knowledge and experience on hand.”
Kouyou starts to stand up, looking like she’s determined to drag Chuuya down and force him to go to the emergency room herself. Dazai bristles immediately, clenching his fists.
“However,” Yosano continues sternly,
Kouyou starts to stand up, looking like she’s determined to drag Chuuya down and force him to go to the emergency room herself. Dazai bristles immediately, clenching his fists.
“However,” Yosano continues sternly,
pointing one long stiletto-sharp nail at the both of them. “First off, we have no /cover story/ for what happened to him. Asking him to lie or keep his pain a secret would be wrong, and if he told, it’d be trouble for everyone. The last people we want him to talk to right now are
the police.”
Just the mention of them makes Dazai scowl. Not only because the police have caused /him/ and his own trouble many times, but also because of their reputation in handling victims. Kindness is not something that is often attributed to the Yokohama Police Force.
If
Just the mention of them makes Dazai scowl. Not only because the police have caused /him/ and his own trouble many times, but also because of their reputation in handling victims. Kindness is not something that is often attributed to the Yokohama Police Force.
If
they knew just how much information Chuuya has on /all/ of them, he has no doubt that Chuuya wouldn’t see outside an interrogation cell for a very long time.
Another black claw joins the first. “Secondly, what’s most important for him right now is that he feels safe and secure.
Another black claw joins the first. “Secondly, what’s most important for him right now is that he feels safe and secure.
He needs to feel /protected/ right now, and he’s not going to feel that way when he’s in a bustling hospital, taken away by himself to do tests, being poked and prodded by people he doesn’t know. He’s fragile right now, and he’s holding it together pretty well, all things
considered, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need support more than ever right now."
That makes sense, but it's /hard/ to reconcile that the only thing Dazai can really do is just /be/ there for him and watch him struggle. He knows that the wariness in the shower is hardly
That makes sense, but it's /hard/ to reconcile that the only thing Dazai can really do is just /be/ there for him and watch him struggle. He knows that the wariness in the shower is hardly
going to be the /last/ trauma response, even if it might be the most prevalent. He'll be afraid, paranoid and anxious, probably of things as small as unexpected noises--
And all Dazai can do is /hold/ him and be there with him. If he's even allowed to do that, he reminds himself
And all Dazai can do is /hold/ him and be there with him. If he's even allowed to do that, he reminds himself
bitterly. He's not /unaware/ that their relationship right now is unstable and it wouldn't be wrong of Chuuya to just...
Not want to think about that or deal with it right now.
It would /hurt/, but if Chuuya decided tomorrow that he didn't want to see Dazai or talk to him until
Not want to think about that or deal with it right now.
It would /hurt/, but if Chuuya decided tomorrow that he didn't want to see Dazai or talk to him until
he felt better--
He could never tell him no. It would hurt and the thought of having him out of sight is anxiety inducing, but he would never tell him /no/. If he did, he'd be just as bad as the person who kidnapped him.
Trauma is never an easy route to navigate, not even for
He could never tell him no. It would hurt and the thought of having him out of sight is anxiety inducing, but he would never tell him /no/. If he did, he'd be just as bad as the person who kidnapped him.
Trauma is never an easy route to navigate, not even for
the people regulated to the sidelines. Not even for the people who just want to /help/.
Kouyou looks torn between arguing, chewing on her lip. From what Dazai's heard of Chuuya's tendency to get sick--he remembers /vividly/ the story of the pneumonia he got as a child that
Kouyou looks torn between arguing, chewing on her lip. From what Dazai's heard of Chuuya's tendency to get sick--he remembers /vividly/ the story of the pneumonia he got as a child that
ended up with him being hospitalized for a week and /seizing/-- he's almost tempted to side with her.
Yes, Chuuya obviously needs to feel safe-- but he also needs to be /physically/ healthy, and Yosano can't guarantee that. The only way to guarantee that is to do a multitude of
Yes, Chuuya obviously needs to feel safe-- but he also needs to be /physically/ healthy, and Yosano can't guarantee that. The only way to guarantee that is to do a multitude of
tests. At least, the only way to get close to something like a guarantee.
Dazai is well-versed in knowing how hidden wounds can fester and bleed if they're not taken care of properly soon enough. He knows very well how injuries /grow/.
He wants to do what's best for Chuuya and
Dazai is well-versed in knowing how hidden wounds can fester and bleed if they're not taken care of properly soon enough. He knows very well how injuries /grow/.
He wants to do what's best for Chuuya and
what's best for his /health/, and right now those feel like conflicting idealogies.
"Now that we got that out of the way," Yosano carries on, propping her hands up on her hips. She has a unique presence, not quite commanding but not controlling. Not quite /cruel/, but
"Now that we got that out of the way," Yosano carries on, propping her hands up on her hips. She has a unique presence, not quite commanding but not controlling. Not quite /cruel/, but
not altruistic either. Not quite /feminine/, but neither masculine. An enigma, something she deliberately cultivates by regularly pulling from opposite ends of a spectrum.
"Personally, I don't care about whatever pissing content you two have going on," she says, looking between
"Personally, I don't care about whatever pissing content you two have going on," she says, looking between
Dazai and Kouyou, blue gaze hard. A strand has come undone from her slicked-back hair, curling over her forehead and bouncing with the movements of her head. "But you need to put /whatever/ that is behind you and move on."
Yosano is probably one of the few people that have the
Yosano is probably one of the few people that have the
/balls/ to look like she’s lecturing school children. She ran the Mafia for years between the time Dazai left and Kouyou took over, and the hallways of the main building havé heard the echo of her boots thousands of times. She’s been ruthless and cruel, cunning and vindictive.
She was everything she needed to be to rule the Mafia with an iron stiletto-clawed hand, and then some.
Arguably, she was a better leader than Dazai ever was. Or was going to be.
That doesn’t mean he feels particularly /cowed/ under her gaze, until she carries on again.
“If
Arguably, she was a better leader than Dazai ever was. Or was going to be.
That doesn’t mean he feels particularly /cowed/ under her gaze, until she carries on again.
“If
you’re serious about him,” she warns, staring Dazai down. Her anger is the hardest to bear, because it looks the most like /Mori’s/. Cold, cutting like a scalpel, slicing through right to the heart of things. “Then you’re going to have to get /along/ with Kouyou. No more games
to see who is the most powerful, no more pissing contests, no more threatening to kill each other.”
Dazai looks away, slightly embarrassed. She’s /right/. There’s been a lot of instances in the recent past where he’s put his /pride/ above anything else. He’s always viewed
Dazai looks away, slightly embarrassed. She’s /right/. There’s been a lot of instances in the recent past where he’s put his /pride/ above anything else. He’s always viewed
himself as /better/ than Kouyou. Smarter, more resourceful, braver.
Even when he was /trying/ to meet with her, it was always with the sense that she would bend to /his/ will. He had the information she wanted, and so she would be /forced/ to agree to whatever his terms were if
Even when he was /trying/ to meet with her, it was always with the sense that she would bend to /his/ will. He had the information she wanted, and so she would be /forced/ to agree to whatever his terms were if
she wanted to get that information.
It’s a typical Mafia relationship—
But Dazai isn’t in the mafia anymore. He doesn’t want power or responsibility or influence. He doesn’t want to be high up in the food chain anymore, and he doesn’t want to be the uncrowned king.
He wants
It’s a typical Mafia relationship—
But Dazai isn’t in the mafia anymore. He doesn’t want power or responsibility or influence. He doesn’t want to be high up in the food chain anymore, and he doesn’t want to be the uncrowned king.
He wants
/Chuuya/. In every and any way he can have him.
Screw the mafia, the information rings, the deals and the bargains. That’s only ever brought him /pain/. It only ever allowed him the dignity of being able to choose his pain and the path he took to get there.
Chuuya brings him
Screw the mafia, the information rings, the deals and the bargains. That’s only ever brought him /pain/. It only ever allowed him the dignity of being able to choose his pain and the path he took to get there.
Chuuya brings him
/light/. He brings him happiness and peace and love and acceptance. All the things Dazai has ever wanted, wrapped up in a pretty, tiny package.
He’d give up everything for him.
He nods.
After another second of keen observation, Yosano seems satisfied with his answer. Her
He’d give up everything for him.
He nods.
After another second of keen observation, Yosano seems satisfied with his answer. Her
eyes leave him, pinning her next victim in place.
“And /you/ need to stop acting like you’re better than him. That’s your little brother up there, and if he’s /dating/ Dazai, then you might as well get used to it. He needs you /both/ right now and fighting at all is just going
“And /you/ need to stop acting like you’re better than him. That’s your little brother up there, and if he’s /dating/ Dazai, then you might as well get used to it. He needs you /both/ right now and fighting at all is just going
to alienate and isolate him further.”
Even Dazai can tell that Kouyou is fuming, but she doesn’t say anything. She just glares at the wall near Yosano’s shoulder silently, face fight.
It’s hard for people used to wielding power to be treated like an /idiot/. Or told what to
Even Dazai can tell that Kouyou is fuming, but she doesn’t say anything. She just glares at the wall near Yosano’s shoulder silently, face fight.
It’s hard for people used to wielding power to be treated like an /idiot/. Or told what to
do. Both of them have made a name for themselves in their own ways, both of them are exceedingly capable and talented.
Neither of them /enjoy/ the way Yosano is looking down on them like a pair of squabbling toddlers, and the worst thing is that she's /right/. Most of their
Neither of them /enjoy/ the way Yosano is looking down on them like a pair of squabbling toddlers, and the worst thing is that she's /right/. Most of their
problems with each other are superficial, and would've been solved if they had been more /mature/ about the situation from the beginning. If they had been dedicated to working together instead of dedicated to showing the other one up.
"But--," Kouyou starts, looking frustrated.
"But--," Kouyou starts, looking frustrated.
"I want to /see/ him--"
This time it's Oda who silences her, nudging her shoulder with his own. "You'll see him soon," he reassures her, "but for now, he needs to rest. He's angry and exhausted and confused. Yosano said he was okay and will recover. I'm sure Chuuya will want to
This time it's Oda who silences her, nudging her shoulder with his own. "You'll see him soon," he reassures her, "but for now, he needs to rest. He's angry and exhausted and confused. Yosano said he was okay and will recover. I'm sure Chuuya will want to
see you soon, but for now--,"
He looks up then, pinning Dazai with blue eyes, as infinitely endless and serene as the sky itself. There's something about Oda that often feels like wisdom and peace.
Not that Oda has ever been /completely/ peaceful himself, but he's so steady
He looks up then, pinning Dazai with blue eyes, as infinitely endless and serene as the sky itself. There's something about Oda that often feels like wisdom and peace.
Not that Oda has ever been /completely/ peaceful himself, but he's so steady
and unshakeable that it seems like nothing can ever bother him. No matter how bad things get, no matter how bloody the missions they used to go together on, no matter how blatantly miserable and sadistic Dazai used to be, no matter /what/ happened, he always took it all in with a
steadfast, calm acceptance.
Nothing fazed him, and maybe that was part of why Dazai was so drawn to him at first. In a world of reactions, where his presence was treated with fear and anxiety, and he got a sick thrill off tormenting random strangers with his suicidal tendencies—
Nothing fazed him, and maybe that was part of why Dazai was so drawn to him at first. In a world of reactions, where his presence was treated with fear and anxiety, and he got a sick thrill off tormenting random strangers with his suicidal tendencies—
That unfazed acceptance was /appealing/. It made Dazai feel like no matter what happened, no matter what he did or said or thought, Oda would be right there beside him. He could never scare him off or chase him away.
It felt like someone /believed/ in him.
A belief that is
It felt like someone /believed/ in him.
A belief that is
shining at him again.
“I’m sure Dazai will take care of him.”
Oda and Dazai might never have the perfect relationship, especially at this point in time. Oda might /hurt/ his feelings sometimes, or question him when Dazai swears he’s earned some faith—
But somehow, he always
“I’m sure Dazai will take care of him.”
Oda and Dazai might never have the perfect relationship, especially at this point in time. Oda might /hurt/ his feelings sometimes, or question him when Dazai swears he’s earned some faith—
But somehow, he always
manages to have his back when it matters /most/. Somehow, he always manages to say the thing he absolutely needs to hear, exactly when he needs to hear it.
Kouyou looks from Oda to Dazai, and although her expression is still pinched with frustration and irritation—
She doesn’t
Kouyou looks from Oda to Dazai, and although her expression is still pinched with frustration and irritation—
She doesn’t
look like she’s searching for a reason to distrust him or hate him anymore. It looks like she’s /trying/ to trust him, even if it’s hard.
It’s probably the most amenable they’ve ever been with each other. No threats, no cutthroat negotiations, no hidden motives.
(Just a
It’s probably the most amenable they’ve ever been with each other. No threats, no cutthroat negotiations, no hidden motives.
(Just a
sister looking at her future brother in law, getting the first realization that this man is here to /stay/.)
“I promise I’ll take care of him,” Dazai pipes up, looking her straight in the eye to show how serious he is. Then, after a moment, his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile,
“I promise I’ll take care of him,” Dazai pipes up, looking her straight in the eye to show how serious he is. Then, after a moment, his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile,
not any less charming for how subdued it looks compared to his usual one. “If he’ll let me.”
That, miraculously, draws a short bark of laughter from Kouyou, fondly irritated. “God, he’s so fucking stubborn, isn’t he?”
Dazai’s smile grows a little bigger, sweetly affectionate
That, miraculously, draws a short bark of laughter from Kouyou, fondly irritated. “God, he’s so fucking stubborn, isn’t he?”
Dazai’s smile grows a little bigger, sweetly affectionate
at the edges. “Yeah, he really is.”
Not that Dazai would ever /change/ that— he wouldn’t change a /thing/ about Chuuya, except for maybe taking care of himself better. It’s /endearing/, the way the tiny chibi will stand his ground until /he/ decides to move.
It’s also /cute/
Not that Dazai would ever /change/ that— he wouldn’t change a /thing/ about Chuuya, except for maybe taking care of himself better. It’s /endearing/, the way the tiny chibi will stand his ground until /he/ decides to move.
It’s also /cute/
that he’s apparently been stubborn /forever/. He can just imagine a tiny, chubby-cheeked Chuuya, fists planted on his hips and stomping his little feet. The thought is so adorable it makes his heart swell, despite everything.
“I’ll see what I can do about getting him to talk to
“I’ll see what I can do about getting him to talk to
you tomorrow,” he acquiesces, willing to work with Kouyou to help put her mind at ease. He understands where her worry comes from, and he wants to /prove/ he’s serious about Chuuya by being...
Friendly.
“At least a call or a text. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”
Friendly.
“At least a call or a text. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”
That seems to be enough to mollify her, at least for now. After another hard look, clearly trying to impress on Dazai how much she /means/ it, she’s letting Oda steer her to the front entrance.
Yosano claps a hand on his shoulder as she passes. In her boots, she’s almost as tall
Yosano claps a hand on his shoulder as she passes. In her boots, she’s almost as tall
as he is and can look him in the eye flat footed.
Her grin, when Dazai looks at her, is so similar to the one she used to wear when they were just rambunctious, too-powerful, too-mean kids that he aches with it.
“You, settling down? Never thought I’d see the day.”
Dazai
Her grin, when Dazai looks at her, is so similar to the one she used to wear when they were just rambunctious, too-powerful, too-mean kids that he aches with it.
“You, settling down? Never thought I’d see the day.”
Dazai
snorts, shaking his head lightly.
Truthfully, he never thought he would either. The idea of a ‘normal’ life— marriage, kids, a job and a house, /pets/, everything that comes with building a life with someone else— never really appealed to him. There were /some/ days where he
Truthfully, he never thought he would either. The idea of a ‘normal’ life— marriage, kids, a job and a house, /pets/, everything that comes with building a life with someone else— never really appealed to him. There were /some/ days where he
thought that something like that would be nice.
But most of the time, he knew he would never find something like that, and never bothered to want it.
Now though—
It’s different. Now he has /two/ sets of clothing in every drawer, a pink toothbrush sitting next to his in the
But most of the time, he knew he would never find something like that, and never bothered to want it.
Now though—
It’s different. Now he has /two/ sets of clothing in every drawer, a pink toothbrush sitting next to his in the
cup by the sink, shampoo and conditioner that isn’t his in his shower. He has a /side/ of the bed now, and the other half is taken up by an endearing puppy pile made up of one dog, one cat, and the love of his life.
You see, whenever he thought of a ‘normal’ life, he always
You see, whenever he thought of a ‘normal’ life, he always
envisioned it would be /sudden/. He’d meet someone and just realize, then and there, that he was ready to give up everything he was and had to be with them. To build something /new/ with them.
It’s only now that he’s beginning to realize that life—and love— doesn’t happen that
It’s only now that he’s beginning to realize that life—and love— doesn’t happen that
fast. It’s /slow/, a mollasses crawl into sharing his life and home and bed. By the time he realized it was happening, the deal was already sealed.
He never had to change. He never had to give anything up. He never had to be someone /else/, because Chuuya loved him the way he
He never had to change. He never had to give anything up. He never had to be someone /else/, because Chuuya loved him the way he
/was/. He wanted /Dazai/, not some character of himself that he could play, not someone different in his body.
Just Dazai.
“Thanks,” he mutters, trying to shrug off the growing guilt he feels at feeling /happy/ right now. Now isn’t the time or place to be feeling wonderous or
Just Dazai.
“Thanks,” he mutters, trying to shrug off the growing guilt he feels at feeling /happy/ right now. Now isn’t the time or place to be feeling wonderous or
/lucky/.
But /fuck/, he never thought he would have something like this. He almost lost it, yes, but he’s /changed/. He knows better now.
And if Chuuya will let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure his baby doesn’t suffer a /single/ hurt ever again. If Dazai has
But /fuck/, he never thought he would have something like this. He almost lost it, yes, but he’s /changed/. He knows better now.
And if Chuuya will let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure his baby doesn’t suffer a /single/ hurt ever again. If Dazai has
his way, he’ll never feel pain again.
“Congratulations,” Yosano responds, a little cheesy. “Take care of him, okay? I want to be invited to your wedding not your /funeral/.”
That pulls a lopsided smile out of him. “Yeah I will. Thanks for coming out tonight. I know it’s past
“Congratulations,” Yosano responds, a little cheesy. “Take care of him, okay? I want to be invited to your wedding not your /funeral/.”
That pulls a lopsided smile out of him. “Yeah I will. Thanks for coming out tonight. I know it’s past
your bed time, old man,” he teases.
Yosano heads for the front door, not looking back at him as she offers him one elegantly long middle finger. “Yeah, yeah. I’m always getting your ass out of trouble.”
/That/ is true and has been for as long as Dazai can remember. He doesn’t
Yosano heads for the front door, not looking back at him as she offers him one elegantly long middle finger. “Yeah, yeah. I’m always getting your ass out of trouble.”
/That/ is true and has been for as long as Dazai can remember. He doesn’t
even bother trying to deny it.
Kozo watches, ears perked with interest, as they all file out of the door before shutting it behind them.
The house is almost eerily silent after they’ve left, a tense and anxious energy falling over the entire place.
It almost feels haunted
Kozo watches, ears perked with interest, as they all file out of the door before shutting it behind them.
The house is almost eerily silent after they’ve left, a tense and anxious energy falling over the entire place.
It almost feels haunted
now. Not by a ghost or a spirit, or anything else so easily banished.
It’s haunted by all the things that have happened to them and between them. A lingering shadow over them that can never be cleansed or uprooted, something that will dog their footsteps for quite a while yet.
It’s haunted by all the things that have happened to them and between them. A lingering shadow over them that can never be cleansed or uprooted, something that will dog their footsteps for quite a while yet.
It, like most things, can only be outgrown with time.
Sighing slightly to himself, he heads back upstairs. He’s not sure what to do in this situation—he’s never /comforted/ someone after a trauma, and definitely not someone so important to him— but he’s not going to take the
Sighing slightly to himself, he heads back upstairs. He’s not sure what to do in this situation—he’s never /comforted/ someone after a trauma, and definitely not someone so important to him— but he’s not going to take the
chance of doing /nothing/.
He wants to do it /right/. It just makes him nervous because he’s only ever been taught how to do it /wrong/.
The bedroom, when he carefully pushes his way inside, is mostly silent. Yoko is panting quietly to herself, obviously happy even if her
He wants to do it /right/. It just makes him nervous because he’s only ever been taught how to do it /wrong/.
The bedroom, when he carefully pushes his way inside, is mostly silent. Yoko is panting quietly to herself, obviously happy even if her
energy is more subdued than it usually would be. She's curled around a lump in the blankets, chin resting on the back.
Chuuya, curled up as tightly as possible beneath the blankets, trembling hard enough that it's just /slightly/ visible. He's not making any noise, and somehow
Chuuya, curled up as tightly as possible beneath the blankets, trembling hard enough that it's just /slightly/ visible. He's not making any noise, and somehow
that seems even more heartbreaking than if he were sobbing.
Dazai's heart /aches/ for him. Chuuya was always a /vibrant/ person, loud and impossible to ignore, shamelessly and fearlessly making his place in the world and now--
He hopes it's only /temporary/, but now it seems
Dazai's heart /aches/ for him. Chuuya was always a /vibrant/ person, loud and impossible to ignore, shamelessly and fearlessly making his place in the world and now--
He hopes it's only /temporary/, but now it seems
like something in him is broken. Something irreplacable and /fragile/ and precious. Something Dazai should have been caring for and /protecting/,but he didn't do it right.
He wasn't enough.
He hesitates in the doorway for a long time, unsure of what to do. Obviously, he /wants/
He wasn't enough.
He hesitates in the doorway for a long time, unsure of what to do. Obviously, he /wants/
to go over there and hold him, comfort him--
But he's not sure if he's allowed to. With the terrible things he said to him /before/, the way he took Chuuya's offered heart and crushed it, the fight, his /next/ mishap in the shower...
Their relationship is rocky. If they even
But he's not sure if he's allowed to. With the terrible things he said to him /before/, the way he took Chuuya's offered heart and crushed it, the fight, his /next/ mishap in the shower...
Their relationship is rocky. If they even
have a relationship anymore, because Dazai basically broke it off. He regrets that /now/ and he wants to take it all back, but they haven't talked about it.
The idea of talking about it right /now/ seems wrong anyways. Dazai's feelings right now don't /matter/, not when Chuuya
The idea of talking about it right /now/ seems wrong anyways. Dazai's feelings right now don't /matter/, not when Chuuya
is hurting the way he is.
God, he just wishes he had the /exact/ words to make everything better. He's so /smart/, so why does he feel so /stupid/ when he tries to navigate their relationship? Everything else comes so easily to him, but he just seems to keep messing the
God, he just wishes he had the /exact/ words to make everything better. He's so /smart/, so why does he feel so /stupid/ when he tries to navigate their relationship? Everything else comes so easily to him, but he just seems to keep messing the
important things up. Always saying the wrong thing, reacting the wrong way, always making mistakes. Mistakes that /Chuuya/ inevitably pays for.
Why can't he just do this /right/?
"'zai?"
Dazai stirs, slightly startled when he hears Chuuya mumble his name. It's quiet, voice
Why can't he just do this /right/?
"'zai?"
Dazai stirs, slightly startled when he hears Chuuya mumble his name. It's quiet, voice
rough and croaky, but he heard him. He wasn't expecting him to be awake right now, as exhausted as he must be, much less want to /talk/ to him.
"Yes?"
There's a long moment of silence, like Chuuya fell asleep or he's deciding what to say. Or like he regrets speaking up at all.
"Yes?"
There's a long moment of silence, like Chuuya fell asleep or he's deciding what to say. Or like he regrets speaking up at all.
Then, "I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, it's /dark/."
There's a pang in his chest, a physical pain that he has to breathe through. Chuuya sounds so /miserable/, suffering dripping from his tone and evident in the way he's hunched over himself under the blanket. He
There's a pang in his chest, a physical pain that he has to breathe through. Chuuya sounds so /miserable/, suffering dripping from his tone and evident in the way he's hunched over himself under the blanket. He
sounds like he's on the verge of /crying/ again, voice thick. Intermittent sniffles are just barely heard over the sound of Yoko's breathing.
Poor /baby/.
Dazai pushes off the doorframe, padding to the other side of the room. His room is always lit up in some fashion-- he hates
Poor /baby/.
Dazai pushes off the doorframe, padding to the other side of the room. His room is always lit up in some fashion-- he hates
the dark too, even if he's gotten used to it-- but for now he turns on the bigger lamp on Chuuya's side of the bed. He doesn't use it often, because it's an LED bulb that makes his head hurt, but hopefully it will do the trick.
White light spills across the room, illuminating
White light spills across the room, illuminating
half of the room easily and banishing all the shadows to somewhere else for the rest of the night.
When Dazai turns around, he finds Chuuya huddled under the blanket, with only a small section over his eyes pulled up so he can look out. He's squinting into the light, blinking
When Dazai turns around, he finds Chuuya huddled under the blanket, with only a small section over his eyes pulled up so he can look out. He's squinting into the light, blinking
slowly.
The bags under his eyes looks terrible and grey. He's got more color in his face than before, but he still looks pale and drawn.
He looks /hurt/.
"Is that better?" Dazai asks, making sure to keep his voice low and soothing. He needs to /comfort/ him, not upset or
The bags under his eyes looks terrible and grey. He's got more color in his face than before, but he still looks pale and drawn.
He looks /hurt/.
"Is that better?" Dazai asks, making sure to keep his voice low and soothing. He needs to /comfort/ him, not upset or
overwhelm him with his own emotions.
Chuuya blinks at him, the lower half of his face hidden beneath the blanket. "I don't know. Maybe."
He sounds so /lost/, like he doesn't know how to handle himself or what to do. Like he's struggling to make sense of it all, and to process
Chuuya blinks at him, the lower half of his face hidden beneath the blanket. "I don't know. Maybe."
He sounds so /lost/, like he doesn't know how to handle himself or what to do. Like he's struggling to make sense of it all, and to process
the fallout.
Dazai can't /not/ go to him.
It only takes him a few short strides to have him crouched by the edge of the bed, putting himself at eye-level. He doesn't reach out for him yet, even though his fingers ache to touch. Letting his expression fill with concern--trying
Dazai can't /not/ go to him.
It only takes him a few short strides to have him crouched by the edge of the bed, putting himself at eye-level. He doesn't reach out for him yet, even though his fingers ache to touch. Letting his expression fill with concern--trying
to show how /genuine/ he is-- he asks, "Is there anything else I can do to help?"
Blue eyes, duller than they've ever been and covered with a sheen of exhaustion, stare out at him. When he speaks, it's with a mixture of /frustration/ and misery. "I don't know."
Okay. Dazai can
Blue eyes, duller than they've ever been and covered with a sheen of exhaustion, stare out at him. When he speaks, it's with a mixture of /frustration/ and misery. "I don't know."
Okay. Dazai can
work with that, he can handle that.
By relative terms, Chuuya has led a rather... /sheltered/ life. He's struggled with his medical health, but he's never really had to deal with /external/ factors harming him. His family loved him and kept him safe, and it wasn't until a few
By relative terms, Chuuya has led a rather... /sheltered/ life. He's struggled with his medical health, but he's never really had to deal with /external/ factors harming him. His family loved him and kept him safe, and it wasn't until a few
weeks ago that he ever had to deal with someone trying to /seriously/ harm him.
It wasn't until a few hours ago that he realized that true, genuine cruelty and evil existed in the world.
Poor thing.
Dazai dares to reach up, coasting his fingers over the bulge of Chuuya's
It wasn't until a few hours ago that he realized that true, genuine cruelty and evil existed in the world.
Poor thing.
Dazai dares to reach up, coasting his fingers over the bulge of Chuuya's
legs under the blanket. He keeps his touch light, unobtrusive, not wanting to frighten him or push him too far. "Okay," he murmurs, "Can I hold you, then?"
He wants it. He wants it so badly it /hurts/, and he wants Chuuya to want that /too/. Wants to be the person he seeks
He wants it. He wants it so badly it /hurts/, and he wants Chuuya to want that /too/. Wants to be the person he seeks
comfort in, wants to be the person he runs to when he's hurting and the world is huge and scary and mean. Wants to keep him /safe/.
Chuuya is silent for so long he's convinced he's going to say no, gaze flitting over Dazai's face. He's not sure what he's looking for, but he
Chuuya is silent for so long he's convinced he's going to say no, gaze flitting over Dazai's face. He's not sure what he's looking for, but he
hopes he finds it.
"Yeah," he eventually croaks, scooting backwards slightly to give him some room.
Dazai's heart feels like it's /soaring/, like it's in his mouth, impossible to breathe around, his feelings for the chibi too much to contain. He doesn't hesitate to follow
"Yeah," he eventually croaks, scooting backwards slightly to give him some room.
Dazai's heart feels like it's /soaring/, like it's in his mouth, impossible to breathe around, his feelings for the chibi too much to contain. He doesn't hesitate to follow
through, sliding under the blanket with him.
It takes some rearranging, because he wants Chuuya to stay facing the light and Yoko has to be moved from her spot lying along the length of his back, all without pulling the blanket off of them, but he eventually manages it.
It's
It takes some rearranging, because he wants Chuuya to stay facing the light and Yoko has to be moved from her spot lying along the length of his back, all without pulling the blanket off of them, but he eventually manages it.
It's
worth it though, as soon as he's spooned up behind him, his knees tucking in neatly behind Chuuya's. He wiggles one arm underneath his head and wraps the other around his waist to pull him close,curving his body to fit his.
Chuuya melts into him easily. He's a little colder than
Chuuya melts into him easily. He's a little colder than
usual, but all his resistance has melted away completely. He doesn't move to make himself comfortable, but Dazai knows how he /likes/ to be cuddled and does so without prompting.
He props his chin up on the top of his head, his body completely enveloping Chuuya's. Keeping him
He props his chin up on the top of his head, his body completely enveloping Chuuya's. Keeping him
safe and sheltered in the curve of his body, keeping him /close/. No one can hurt him here.
"Do you think you can sleep now?" He asks, voice hushed to honor the quiet atmosphere that's fallen over them. His thumb strokes soothing rhythms over Chuuya's waist over the shirt he's
"Do you think you can sleep now?" He asks, voice hushed to honor the quiet atmosphere that's fallen over them. His thumb strokes soothing rhythms over Chuuya's waist over the shirt he's
wearing.
It’s one of Dazai’s, one that had unofficially been stolen from him weeks ago. It’s old, faded, and /much/ too big for Chuuya—
But he always sleeps in it, even now. Even after everything.
It gives Dazai /hope/ that one day— some day— everything will be okay again.
It’s one of Dazai’s, one that had unofficially been stolen from him weeks ago. It’s old, faded, and /much/ too big for Chuuya—
But he always sleeps in it, even now. Even after everything.
It gives Dazai /hope/ that one day— some day— everything will be okay again.
That /they’ll/ be okay again, someday. They have something worth /fighting/ for, something worth keeping.
Chuuya’s almost unnaturally still against him. He’s a restless sleeper, normally, always tossing and turning and tugging at Dazai in the middle of the night.
“Are you
Chuuya’s almost unnaturally still against him. He’s a restless sleeper, normally, always tossing and turning and tugging at Dazai in the middle of the night.
“Are you
going to leave when I do?”
Dazai inhales slowly at the shaky question, hurt pulsing through him. It’s a mixture of his /own/ hurt and sympathy for Chuuya. “No,” he reassures him, drawing him closer until every line of their bodies are pressed together tightly. “I’m not going
Dazai inhales slowly at the shaky question, hurt pulsing through him. It’s a mixture of his /own/ hurt and sympathy for Chuuya. “No,” he reassures him, drawing him closer until every line of their bodies are pressed together tightly. “I’m not going
anywhere.”
That seems to be enough for Chuuya, at least in this moment. Their problems are /far/ from over, and they have a long road ahead of them—
But for now, Chuuya is flipping over in his spot. Burying his face in Dazai’s chest like he’s trying to hide from the world.
That seems to be enough for Chuuya, at least in this moment. Their problems are /far/ from over, and they have a long road ahead of them—
But for now, Chuuya is flipping over in his spot. Burying his face in Dazai’s chest like he’s trying to hide from the world.
Pushing one of his legs between Dazai’s, wrapping his arms around his waist to fist the back of his shirt, like he’s afraid he’ll try to pull away. Like he feels the need to /hang on/, scared something else will be taken from him again.
Hugging him back tightly, Dazai has to
Hugging him back tightly, Dazai has to
forcibly ignore the growing dampness of tears he can feel on his shirt, and the slight shuddering of his breath. Acknowledging it won’t make it /better/, making Chuuya talk about it won’t make it go away. Keeping him talking when he needs to be sleeping and recovering is
counterproductive. If he /wants/ to talk, then he can— but so far he’s just breathing shakily into his shirt silently.
They can talk later.
Still, Dazai holds him tighter in response, tucking his head under his chin. Yoko has relocated to laying over Dazai’s hip so she can
They can talk later.
Still, Dazai holds him tighter in response, tucking his head under his chin. Yoko has relocated to laying over Dazai’s hip so she can
drape her head over Chuuya’s side. Baki is curled up on his pillow, pressed against the back of his head, and purring up a storm.
Funny, how Dazai never realized how small his world was until he was holding it in his arms. Funny how he /used/ to think he needed a bulleted list
Funny, how Dazai never realized how small his world was until he was holding it in his arms. Funny how he /used/ to think he needed a bulleted list
of things to be /happy/—
But all he ever needed was this.
He wants to say it again. God, he knows he shouldn’t— he /can’t/— but the realization of his feelings feels like an addiction.
I love you. I love you. I love you, I love you, I /love/ you.
He wants to say it again.
But all he ever needed was this.
He wants to say it again. God, he knows he shouldn’t— he /can’t/— but the realization of his feelings feels like an addiction.
I love you. I love you. I love you, I love you, I /love/ you.
He wants to say it again.
He’s never said it before to anyone else, never felt the need or desire to say it, but now that he’s said it /once/, he doesn’t want to /stop/. He wants to say it again and again and again, in a thousand different ways, every way he can think of.
It feels /wrong/ to feel even a
It feels /wrong/ to feel even a
smidge of happiness or excitement right now, but he can’t /help/ it.
He did it. He /did/ it. He, who once thought himself so hollowed out with dread and depression that he couldn’t even /feel/ anymore, who thought that his only fate was to end up in a bloody ditch by himself,
He did it. He /did/ it. He, who once thought himself so hollowed out with dread and depression that he couldn’t even /feel/ anymore, who thought that his only fate was to end up in a bloody ditch by himself,
who’s /only/ friends in life were just as bloody and fucked up as he was—and even they didn’t want him, sometimes—, who never thought that he would /ever/ experience happiness in his life—
He did it. He fell in /love/.
He wants to keep it. /God/, he wants to keep it, so badly.
He did it. He fell in /love/.
He wants to keep it. /God/, he wants to keep it, so badly.
He wants to /cherish/ it, hold this little ball of warmth and light in his hands and never let it go.
But that’s not up to him anymore. He’ll try, he’ll do /whatever/ it takes to make it up to Chuuya, to prove himself to him and make sure he’s healthy and /happy/—
But at the
But that’s not up to him anymore. He’ll try, he’ll do /whatever/ it takes to make it up to Chuuya, to prove himself to him and make sure he’s healthy and /happy/—
But at the
end of the day, that’s not his decision to make. He can’t force it, and if Chuuya wants to leave—
He has no choice but to let him.
Anything he could ever want is inevitably lost, right? And some things.... some things you just can’t come back from.
Some things can’t be fixed,
He has no choice but to let him.
Anything he could ever want is inevitably lost, right? And some things.... some things you just can’t come back from.
Some things can’t be fixed,
no matter how you try.
Some things... they just stay broken.
Dazai doesn’t sleep that night. He just lays there, holding a fretful chibi in his arms, and tries not to feel like this might be his last chance.
Like his life is over before it ever really began.
—— +
Some things... they just stay broken.
Dazai doesn’t sleep that night. He just lays there, holding a fretful chibi in his arms, and tries not to feel like this might be his last chance.
Like his life is over before it ever really began.
—— +
Chuuya dreams of horrifying things. The scrape of metal buckets, the slosh of water, stench and wet and /burning pain/, get it off, get it off, I can’t /breathe/—
No matter how hard he thrashes, he can never escape. There’s rope around his wrists, a bag over his head, a
No matter how hard he thrashes, he can never escape. There’s rope around his wrists, a bag over his head, a
surprisingly soothing and familiar voice that comes from very, very far away that urges him back to sleep. It’s singing, maybe, but every time he tries to focus on it, the darkness comes plunging back in.
The struggle never ends. Chuuya’s a /fighter/ by nature, but—
He’s so
The struggle never ends. Chuuya’s a /fighter/ by nature, but—
He’s so
/tired/. He just needs a /little/ break. Just five minutes, /please/, he just needs to /breathe/ and calm down and fucking /think/ for just a moment.
When does it stop? Why doesn’t it ever /stop/?
When Chuuya wakes, eventually, he somehow manages to feel only marginally more
When does it stop? Why doesn’t it ever /stop/?
When Chuuya wakes, eventually, he somehow manages to feel only marginally more
rested than before. It feels like he’s been fighting in his sleep, head aching with the memories of nightmares.
The first thing he notices is that the aches have set in. He didn’t notice it yesterday, because everything was too visceral, but now points of soreness have developed
The first thing he notices is that the aches have set in. He didn’t notice it yesterday, because everything was too visceral, but now points of soreness have developed
along most of his body. The most painful points being his legs, wrists and back.
His head hurts. Not terribly, but there’s a dull, steady throbbing behind his eyes, something that might have to do with how dry his mouth feels.
He’s thirsty. What kind of fucked up joke is that?
His head hurts. Not terribly, but there’s a dull, steady throbbing behind his eyes, something that might have to do with how dry his mouth feels.
He’s thirsty. What kind of fucked up joke is that?
"Waterboarding victim, afraid to shower, still somehow manages to be thirsty after being forced to ingest a gallon of water or more."
Logically he /knows/ bodily functions won't stop just because he's hurting, but still. How is he supposed to reconcile the fact that he /needs/
Logically he /knows/ bodily functions won't stop just because he's hurting, but still. How is he supposed to reconcile the fact that he /needs/
water even when the thought of it makes him sick? How is he supposed to just...
Drink.
The next thing he notices is that he's /warm/. Almost suffocatingly warm, with a virtual wall of warmth wrapped all around his front. There's another heavy weight on his hip, shaped like a
Drink.
The next thing he notices is that he's /warm/. Almost suffocatingly warm, with a virtual wall of warmth wrapped all around his front. There's another heavy weight on his hip, shaped like a
dog's head.
Yoko, and Dazai. It seems like they haven't moved at all, essentially in the same position he fell asleep with them in. Parts of him are numb from the weight, one of his arms completely dead. That's probably part of why he's so /sore/. He didn't have any room to move
Yoko, and Dazai. It seems like they haven't moved at all, essentially in the same position he fell asleep with them in. Parts of him are numb from the weight, one of his arms completely dead. That's probably part of why he's so /sore/. He didn't have any room to move
with how they were laying on him, so he probably spent most of the night locked into one position.
But he prefers that to the chance of waking up /alone/. It might be dark, but it's /warm/ and he's being /held/, and there's comforting weight pressed all along his body to keep
But he prefers that to the chance of waking up /alone/. It might be dark, but it's /warm/ and he's being /held/, and there's comforting weight pressed all along his body to keep
him from spiraling back into the realm of endless nightmares.
He can tell Dazai is awake too, because there's a large hand cupping the base of his spine, thumb moving over his skin slowly in soothing rhythms. The drag of callouses-- callouses that he now knows came from handling
He can tell Dazai is awake too, because there's a large hand cupping the base of his spine, thumb moving over his skin slowly in soothing rhythms. The drag of callouses-- callouses that he now knows came from handling
a /gun/-- over his skin makes him shiver slightly, a breath of sensation that feels life-changing in how /gentle/ it is.
And for a second, lying there in Dazai's arms and feeling so warm and obviously cherished, Chuuya hates himself.
It's--
It's /complicated/. There's a huge
And for a second, lying there in Dazai's arms and feeling so warm and obviously cherished, Chuuya hates himself.
It's--
It's /complicated/. There's a huge
part of him that /wants/ to blame Dazai for...everything. Wants to blame him for what happened, for his kidnapping, for his pain, for his lingering fear, for the feeling of being /haunted/ by memories.
Maybe it's wrong, but he wants to blame Dazai. Because if he had just /told/
Maybe it's wrong, but he wants to blame Dazai. Because if he had just /told/
him about his past, maybe he never would've gotten kidnapped. If they had just talked, maybe he could've been more careful, more aware, and been able to avoid this.
Hell, maybe he would've been single and moping in his dorm room instead of /this/.
But no matter how much an
Hell, maybe he would've been single and moping in his dorm room instead of /this/.
But no matter how much an
angry, hurting, /seething/ part of him wants to put the blame on someone else just to make himself /feel/ better--
There's another part of him that wants to cling onto Dazai. Wants to be held and cherished and kissed and comforted, wants to be told he's loved and adored, please
There's another part of him that wants to cling onto Dazai. Wants to be held and cherished and kissed and comforted, wants to be told he's loved and adored, please
don't leave him, please don't leave him /alone/ again--
Like everything else lately, it's hard. How is he supposed to slog through a black tar sea of emotions that stick to him, drag him down and drown him?
How is he /supposed/ to feel?
"Are you awake?"
When Dazai's voice
Like everything else lately, it's hard. How is he supposed to slog through a black tar sea of emotions that stick to him, drag him down and drown him?
How is he /supposed/ to feel?
"Are you awake?"
When Dazai's voice
comes, it's soft and unobtrusive. Gentle enough that if he wasn't awake, it wouldn't have woken him up.
But he is awake.
He contemplates for a moment if he wants to answer--partly because he /wants/ to go back to sleep even if only to escape the exhaustion of being awake, and
But he is awake.
He contemplates for a moment if he wants to answer--partly because he /wants/ to go back to sleep even if only to escape the exhaustion of being awake, and
partly because he feels that speaking will force him to /acknowledge/ the complicated knot of emotions-- but he eventually decides that he should.
"Yeah," he croaks, the roughness of his voice making him wince. It's better than last night, but it still /hurts/. There's a
"Yeah," he croaks, the roughness of his voice making him wince. It's better than last night, but it still /hurts/. There's a
particular wet-burning in his nostrils, a remnant of how much water he accidentally inhaled.
He hopes it goes away soon. The reminder is driving him /crazy/. He just wants to /move on/, just forget it ever happened. Just put it behind him.
Dazai shifts, leaning backwards. The
He hopes it goes away soon. The reminder is driving him /crazy/. He just wants to /move on/, just forget it ever happened. Just put it behind him.
Dazai shifts, leaning backwards. The
hand on his back comes up, sliding across his frame to eventually come up to his face. With fingertips so gentle that it /aches/, he brushes the hair that had fallen out of his braid out of his eyes. "How are you feeling?"
Chuuya's kept his eyes closed this whole time, but now
Chuuya's kept his eyes closed this whole time, but now
he can't resist the urge to open them and /look/.
The sight of Dazai's face is a welcome one. He looks /tired/, dark bags under his eyes like he didn't sleep at all, and his eyes are darker than they have been for a while. His hair is messy and he looks so /concerned/ that it
The sight of Dazai's face is a welcome one. He looks /tired/, dark bags under his eyes like he didn't sleep at all, and his eyes are darker than they have been for a while. His hair is messy and he looks so /concerned/ that it
makes Chuuya want to--
Hide, maybe, or maybe it makes him want to /bite/. He wouldn't be forced to acknowledge how /pathetic/ he must look right now if Dazai wasn't looking at him like /that/.
"I don't know," he mumbles again, chewing on his lip.
The hardest part of that is
Hide, maybe, or maybe it makes him want to /bite/. He wouldn't be forced to acknowledge how /pathetic/ he must look right now if Dazai wasn't looking at him like /that/.
"I don't know," he mumbles again, chewing on his lip.
The hardest part of that is
that it's /true/. He doesn't know how he feels because there's so /much/ everywhere he looks.
He's never faced anything like this before. Sure, there's been schoolyard bullies and people that weren't /kind/ to him, and medical scares and accidents in Judo class, but never
He's never faced anything like this before. Sure, there's been schoolyard bullies and people that weren't /kind/ to him, and medical scares and accidents in Judo class, but never
something that came anywhere close to this.
The closest thing was what happened with Shuuji, but that's /different/. He was always expecting that situation to go badly, so when it went /wrong/, it was almost expected. More dramatic than he ever thought, but he was still somewhat
The closest thing was what happened with Shuuji, but that's /different/. He was always expecting that situation to go badly, so when it went /wrong/, it was almost expected. More dramatic than he ever thought, but he was still somewhat
prepared.
And afterward, he had Dazai's support. He had a /system/ in place, one that took care of him and made sure he wasn't badly hurt, washed him up and made him feel better. He wasn't alone, because he had someone he could /trust/.
He's not alone now, but--
Now he has no
And afterward, he had Dazai's support. He had a /system/ in place, one that took care of him and made sure he wasn't badly hurt, washed him up and made him feel better. He wasn't alone, because he had someone he could /trust/.
He's not alone now, but--
Now he has no
one he feels he can /trust/. Everywhere he turns,he's finding more secrets that the people closest to him are hiding from him.
Dazai's secretly an ex-murderer, Yakuza prodigy who still does business with the mafia, and has a relationship with the Yakuza that Chuuya knows nothing
Dazai's secretly an ex-murderer, Yakuza prodigy who still does business with the mafia, and has a relationship with the Yakuza that Chuuya knows nothing
about.
Kouyou is /apparently/ the boss of the Mafia, and has been for years. Been involved with the Maifa for /longer/,and has been feeding him lies for years about how she's working as an accountant at some company.
Liars, /everywhere/, and it fucking hurts. Not only because
Kouyou is /apparently/ the boss of the Mafia, and has been for years. Been involved with the Maifa for /longer/,and has been feeding him lies for years about how she's working as an accountant at some company.
Liars, /everywhere/, and it fucking hurts. Not only because
it makes him /wary/ and feel like he has no one to turn to, but also because--
Don't they love him? Don't they trust him? Isn't he supposed to be /important/ to them?
Why are they lying to him like this? Why do they keep treating him like some /kid/ who can't be trusted with
Don't they love him? Don't they trust him? Isn't he supposed to be /important/ to them?
Why are they lying to him like this? Why do they keep treating him like some /kid/ who can't be trusted with
the truth, someone that has to be /managed/?
If they love him, why are they treating him like this?
Having no support to fall back down when it feels like the ground has been pulled out from under his feet and he's been left to freefall is /awful/. He can't trust anybody
If they love him, why are they treating him like this?
Having no support to fall back down when it feels like the ground has been pulled out from under his feet and he's been left to freefall is /awful/. He can't trust anybody
because nobody trusts /him/.
How is he supposed to trust either of them again? How is he supposed to move on from this?
What is he supposed to /do/? No one ever gave him instructions or a list of expectations. He can't do this on his /own/.
"Does your head hurt?"
Funny how
How is he supposed to trust either of them again? How is he supposed to move on from this?
What is he supposed to /do/? No one ever gave him instructions or a list of expectations. He can't do this on his /own/.
"Does your head hurt?"
Funny how
his medical condition--something that disrupted his life hugely-- has now become the least of his worries.
"Not really," he mutters, "I need to take a Tylenol soon but... nothing terrible."
Dazai nods slowly, the tips of his fingers brushing over his cheek reverentially. He
"Not really," he mutters, "I need to take a Tylenol soon but... nothing terrible."
Dazai nods slowly, the tips of his fingers brushing over his cheek reverentially. He
makes nonsensical patterns over his skin, pressing gentle feeling into an area that was /abused/ only a few short hours ago.
It’s nice, and it’s /easy/, and Chuuya wants so bad for something to be /easy/, so he just melts into it. Turns his face into the comfort and tries to
It’s nice, and it’s /easy/, and Chuuya wants so bad for something to be /easy/, so he just melts into it. Turns his face into the comfort and tries to
leave his racing mind behind.
For a long moment it’s just /that/, easy comfort and soft touches, warmth that starts to clear away the newly hollowed out space inside of him.
Dazai is the first one to stir, fingers sliding underneath his braid and tugging lightly on the loose
For a long moment it’s just /that/, easy comfort and soft touches, warmth that starts to clear away the newly hollowed out space inside of him.
Dazai is the first one to stir, fingers sliding underneath his braid and tugging lightly on the loose
plaits. His hair needs to be redone, but at the same time the idea of doing that seems /exhausting/. “Are you hungry?”
Chuuya wrinkles his nose at the thought of food. He’s not hungry at all, even though he knows he should be. It’s probably been almost an entire day since he
Chuuya wrinkles his nose at the thought of food. He’s not hungry at all, even though he knows he should be. It’s probably been almost an entire day since he
last ate.
He doesn’t even remember what he ate last, come to think of it.
The idea of feeding himself seems exhausting. Even if Dazai does all the cooking, he still has to come downstairs, sit upright, raise the utensil to his mouth over and over again. All while he feels
He doesn’t even remember what he ate last, come to think of it.
The idea of feeding himself seems exhausting. Even if Dazai does all the cooking, he still has to come downstairs, sit upright, raise the utensil to his mouth over and over again. All while he feels
like his body has been turned inside out with exhaustion /and/ he has no appetite to speak of.
What’s the point of it all?
He blows out a breath. “No,” he says, quiet, “I just want to go to sleep.”
He wishes he /could/. Nothing is confusing when he’s sleeping and everything
What’s the point of it all?
He blows out a breath. “No,” he says, quiet, “I just want to go to sleep.”
He wishes he /could/. Nothing is confusing when he’s sleeping and everything
is just...
Gone. He doesn't have to deal with any of it. He can just float in the sea of blackness and just...stop existing.
The corners of Dazai's mouth tip down in a concerned frown, the pad of his thumb brushing over his temple. "If I make you something and bring it up here,
Gone. He doesn't have to deal with any of it. He can just float in the sea of blackness and just...stop existing.
The corners of Dazai's mouth tip down in a concerned frown, the pad of his thumb brushing over his temple. "If I make you something and bring it up here,
will you eat?"
Fear lurches inside him, a new friend that's made a home for itself in his lungs. A living and breathing nightmare that's infected him all the way to the core, something he can never wash out or scrub away.
He hates it. He didn't /use/ to be afraid. There was a
Fear lurches inside him, a new friend that's made a home for itself in his lungs. A living and breathing nightmare that's infected him all the way to the core, something he can never wash out or scrub away.
He hates it. He didn't /use/ to be afraid. There was a
long time where many people called him /fearless/, brave, a force of nature.
Oh, if they could see him now, biting back a shiver at the thought of Dazai leaving him alone long enough to go /downstairs/. They'd probably laugh at him, get sick off of how pathetic he looks.
At
Oh, if they could see him now, biting back a shiver at the thought of Dazai leaving him alone long enough to go /downstairs/. They'd probably laugh at him, get sick off of how pathetic he looks.
At
least, that what he thinks of himself, right now.
He shakes his head, clinging onto Dazai's shirt. For all of his complicated feelings, he would rather /die/ than be alone.
The last time he was alone, he was /taken/. He woke up someplace new and terrible, a room he will never
He shakes his head, clinging onto Dazai's shirt. For all of his complicated feelings, he would rather /die/ than be alone.
The last time he was alone, he was /taken/. He woke up someplace new and terrible, a room he will never
be able to forget for all that he never saw what it looked like. A room that will forever live on in the endless stretches of his nightmares,a room that some part of him will forever be trapped inside.
He did not leave that room whole, he knows that.
"You have to eat something,
He did not leave that room whole, he knows that.
"You have to eat something,
little love."
He ignores the new nickname. It's /cute/, admittedly, and it makes something warm bubble up in his chest, but it's...
It's complicated now.
More accurately, it's always /been/ complicated, he's just aware of it now. He's finally been brought into the light.
"I
He ignores the new nickname. It's /cute/, admittedly, and it makes something warm bubble up in his chest, but it's...
It's complicated now.
More accurately, it's always /been/ complicated, he's just aware of it now. He's finally been brought into the light.
"I
know," he grumbles, letting go of Dazai's shirt so he can struggle up into a sitting position. God, he's so fucking /weak/ right now,it feels like all the strength he's ever had has been sucked right out of his body to leave him limp as an overcooked noodle. "I'll come with you."
He'd rather be exhausted and slumped over in the kitchen chair with his boyfriend-slash-sugar-daddy-slash-criminal-overlord-slash-maybe-ex-boyfriend-slash-love-of-his-life than be stuck up here /alone/.
Yoko doesn't move easily and Baki is particularly upset when Chuuya's arm
Yoko doesn't move easily and Baki is particularly upset when Chuuya's arm
jostles him enough to wake him up, but he somehow manages to sit up under his own power. He's slightly winded afterwards, feeling just as bad as the first day he came home from the hospital a few weeks ago.
Maybe worse,somehow.
Suddenly, the trip downstairs feels daunting. It's
Maybe worse,somehow.
Suddenly, the trip downstairs feels daunting. It's
just /downstairs/, but goddamn if that doesn't seem like a marathon right now.
Dazai follows him up, sitting beside him. "Okay," he agrees, and that tone of mild acceptance, like he's treating Chuuya /gently/ is fucking /infuriating/. He wants to be treated /normally/, and while
Dazai follows him up, sitting beside him. "Okay," he agrees, and that tone of mild acceptance, like he's treating Chuuya /gently/ is fucking /infuriating/. He wants to be treated /normally/, and while
Dazai has always been /careful/ with him--
He's never been gentle.
Chuuya's never /wanted/ to be treated gently, and the fact that he is makes the building tension in his chest writhe with fury. He's not--
He's /fine/. He's /over/ it. He's /home/ and /safe/ and /healthy/ and
He's never been gentle.
Chuuya's never /wanted/ to be treated gently, and the fact that he is makes the building tension in his chest writhe with fury. He's not--
He's /fine/. He's /over/ it. He's /home/ and /safe/ and /healthy/ and
he's /fine/. He doesn't need to be treated gently or like he might /break/.
"Would you like me to carry you downstairs, since you're so tired?"
At any other time, he would probably say yes. He actually likes being held and carried around. Makes him feel light and cherished.
"Would you like me to carry you downstairs, since you're so tired?"
At any other time, he would probably say yes. He actually likes being held and carried around. Makes him feel light and cherished.
Right now, though, he's struggling between a desperate desire to prove to /everyone/-- including himself-- that he's fine, and feeling like he's choking on every emotion in the damn book,not wanting to give /in/ to Dazai so quickly and easily after he hurt him so much--
"No, I'm
"No, I'm
okay," he says, ignoring the burn in his thighs as he swings them over the side of the bed and prepares to take his weight.
He can do this. He /will/ do this. He will /not/ have his autonomy taken away,and he will /not/ wallow in the arms of someone bigger and stronger than him.
He can do this. He /will/ do this. He will /not/ have his autonomy taken away,and he will /not/ wallow in the arms of someone bigger and stronger than him.
He can walk down the fucking stairs.
Which, of course, turns out to be easier said than done.
His ankles ache with every step he takes, a remnant of how hard he struggled in the chair. He has to hold onto the railing desperately, ignoring his frightfully bruised wrists, because
Which, of course, turns out to be easier said than done.
His ankles ache with every step he takes, a remnant of how hard he struggled in the chair. He has to hold onto the railing desperately, ignoring his frightfully bruised wrists, because
if he looks at them then he /remembers/ and then he /feels/, and it's just all too much. His thighs burn with every step down.
It feels almost ridiculous to be /this/ sore. He never even left that stupid chair, so why does he feel like he was run over by a truck?
Dazai hovers a
It feels almost ridiculous to be /this/ sore. He never even left that stupid chair, so why does he feel like he was run over by a truck?
Dazai hovers a
step behind him, clearly wanting to just pick him up and take him down himself--
But at least he trusts Chuuya in /this/. He doesn't say a single word the whole way down.
The chairs of the kitchen table are so /relieving/ to see, the end finally coming in sight, and he manages
But at least he trusts Chuuya in /this/. He doesn't say a single word the whole way down.
The chairs of the kitchen table are so /relieving/ to see, the end finally coming in sight, and he manages
to shuffle over to them slightly faster than he walked down the stairs.
Sitting is hell on his back-- he swears he can feel every step and breath in the aching muscles along his spine-- but easier on his legs. He resigns himself to feeling uncomfortable in any position for the
Sitting is hell on his back-- he swears he can feel every step and breath in the aching muscles along his spine-- but easier on his legs. He resigns himself to feeling uncomfortable in any position for the
next few days, sighing as he draws his legs up onto the chair with him.
By the time he's found a position that feels mostly okay, Dazai is placing a glass of water in front of him, along with three pills.
Tylenol, his anti-inflammatories, and his seizure meds.
He makes a face
By the time he's found a position that feels mostly okay, Dazai is placing a glass of water in front of him, along with three pills.
Tylenol, his anti-inflammatories, and his seizure meds.
He makes a face
at the big round pill of the seizure meds. He hates taking them. They make him sleepy, but in a way that's mostly restricted to his /mind/ instead of his body. Like he's fading around the edges, or too dazed out to think properly, head full of cotton.
He was glad when he was
He was glad when he was
able to stop taking them earlier, because he didn't like the way they made him feel. It sucks to be back taking the again.
Better than having a seizure, though. He doesn't feel one on the horizon anymore, but better safe than sorry, right?
He swallows the pills, restricting
Better than having a seizure, though. He doesn't feel one on the horizon anymore, but better safe than sorry, right?
He swallows the pills, restricting
himself to the tiniest sip of water to do so. It makes him /nervous/ with the cup just sitting in front of him.
Like the water is going to jump out and attack him or something. It's ridiculous.
"Udon sound okay to you?"
It's not Chuuya's usual breakfast, but the idea of having
Like the water is going to jump out and attack him or something. It's ridiculous.
"Udon sound okay to you?"
It's not Chuuya's usual breakfast, but the idea of having
a heavier western breakfast full of sweets and sugar makes his stomach turn. He'd prefer something more /familiar/ to his stomach. "Yeah."
Dazai nods, going through the kitchen to gather all the ingredients and tools he needs.
Curled up on the chair with his chin propped up on
Dazai nods, going through the kitchen to gather all the ingredients and tools he needs.
Curled up on the chair with his chin propped up on
his knee, Chuuya just... watches him.
Part of him doesn't believe that Dazai is really the 'demon prodigy'. It just doesn't reconcile with the domestic, careful view he's always had of Dazai.
Sure, there were parts of him that were /mysterious/ and sometimes even dangerous,
Part of him doesn't believe that Dazai is really the 'demon prodigy'. It just doesn't reconcile with the domestic, careful view he's always had of Dazai.
Sure, there were parts of him that were /mysterious/ and sometimes even dangerous,
but other parts of him were so /domestic/ and /normal/ that it didn't seem real.
What kind of 'demon prodigy' dated a regular college student? What kind of 'demon prodigy' took relaxing baths, went on vacation, ate normal food at normal restaurants? Had a pair of lovable dogs,
What kind of 'demon prodigy' dated a regular college student? What kind of 'demon prodigy' took relaxing baths, went on vacation, ate normal food at normal restaurants? Had a pair of lovable dogs,
a (shitty) kid, and lived in the normal suburbs of the city where all the other high-class families lived?
What kind of 'demon prodigy' took relaxing baths, told someone much younger and less experienced than him that he 'adored them', watched videos on how to braid so he could
What kind of 'demon prodigy' took relaxing baths, told someone much younger and less experienced than him that he 'adored them', watched videos on how to braid so he could
braid Chuuya's hair before he went to sleep, learned his hair care routine so he could wash his hair in the shower, was so /careful/ with him that Chuuya never felt pressured or insecure once?
What kind of 'demon prodigy' would love someone like him and /show/ him that love?
What kind of 'demon prodigy' would love someone like him and /show/ him that love?
Sure, the confessions had been /complicated/...
But even before that, Chuuya felt like he was loved. Felt like he was /cherished/.
So how can the man he loves, and the man that loves /him/, also be the man that caused city-wide terror years ago? It just doesn't make /sense/.
But even before that, Chuuya felt like he was loved. Felt like he was /cherished/.
So how can the man he loves, and the man that loves /him/, also be the man that caused city-wide terror years ago? It just doesn't make /sense/.
This time, it's Dazai who takes the plunge into deeper conversation.
"If you're up for it," he starts, taking a deep breath as he dumps the dry noodles into a pot of boiling water, "I thought I would tell you about my time in the Mafia."
The question is, does Chuuya /actually/
"If you're up for it," he starts, taking a deep breath as he dumps the dry noodles into a pot of boiling water, "I thought I would tell you about my time in the Mafia."
The question is, does Chuuya /actually/
want to know? He /should/ know, he has a /right/ to know now--
But does he want to? Does he want his image of Dazai to change so much?
Is he ready to handle what he's about to hear?
He doesn't know, but does he have any other choice? His only other option is to just... sit in
But does he want to? Does he want his image of Dazai to change so much?
Is he ready to handle what he's about to hear?
He doesn't know, but does he have any other choice? His only other option is to just... sit in
willful ignorance and hope something like this doesn’t happen again.
Even that isn’t an option because his /sister/ is the /boss/ of the Port Mafia, so he’s connected to it all whether he likes it or not.
“Okay.”
Dazai looks thoughtful and strained for a long moment, clearly
Even that isn’t an option because his /sister/ is the /boss/ of the Port Mafia, so he’s connected to it all whether he likes it or not.
“Okay.”
Dazai looks thoughtful and strained for a long moment, clearly
wondering where exactly he wants to start. He plops an egg into a different pot of boiling water, bracing his hands on the counter nearby afterwards.
“My father was… not a very nice man. Nor was he a smart one,” he starts, staring blankly ahead like he’s seeing some other
“My father was… not a very nice man. Nor was he a smart one,” he starts, staring blankly ahead like he’s seeing some other
moment in time. “He was a gambling man. Lost all his money more times than he could count, won it back just as often. He thought he was invincible, untouchable. Lucky.”
Chuuya has a feeling that /luck/ would not last very long in this story. It’s the first time he’s ever heard
Chuuya has a feeling that /luck/ would not last very long in this story. It’s the first time he’s ever heard
of Dazai’s parents at all. He’s never even mentioned them in passing.
“He used to borrow money all the time, so he could keep himself in a certain lifestyle. He always had the assumption that he would just… win more later and be able to pay back his debts eventually. It didn’t
“He used to borrow money all the time, so he could keep himself in a certain lifestyle. He always had the assumption that he would just… win more later and be able to pay back his debts eventually. It didn’t
matter to him how long it took or how much he borrowed. Eventually his debts found their way into the pockets of the wrong people.”
A hush falls over the room, filled with subtle tension. Dazai doesn’t look like he’s enjoying telling his story or even like he’s telling it to
A hush falls over the room, filled with subtle tension. Dazai doesn’t look like he’s enjoying telling his story or even like he’s telling it to
/him/. His eyes are unfocused and empty, like he’s not in his body anymore even though he’s still mechanically going through the motions of cooking.
“My mother was a good woman. Much too good for him,” Dazai continues, one side of his mouth quirking up just slightly.
Chuuya
“My mother was a good woman. Much too good for him,” Dazai continues, one side of his mouth quirking up just slightly.
Chuuya
can almost sense the ghost that haunts Dazai’s words, a silent presence that’s come now that’s it’s been called.
“She loved me, more than I can ever say. She protected me, she encouraged me, she /loved/ me. She was so proud of me because I was so smart— I skipped two grades by
“She loved me, more than I can ever say. She protected me, she encouraged me, she /loved/ me. She was so proud of me because I was so smart— I skipped two grades by
the time I was eight, and I was always one of the highest in the country on the national tests.”
He quiets then, focusing on pulling out the cooked noodles from their pot and arranging them in a huge bowl. Chuuya hopes he doesn’t expect him to actually /eat/ all of that.
“I
He quiets then, focusing on pulling out the cooked noodles from their pot and arranging them in a huge bowl. Chuuya hopes he doesn’t expect him to actually /eat/ all of that.
“I
miss her,” he quietly admits, his voice cracking in the most obvious display of emotional vulnerability that Chuuya has seen yet. “I still visit her grave sometimes.”
Chuuya has never had a mother, but he can’t /ever/ imagine losing his father. He doesn’t know how he would be
Chuuya has never had a mother, but he can’t /ever/ imagine losing his father. He doesn’t know how he would be
able to function or go on with his life without having that pillar of support and love to fall back on.
Is their relationship perfect?Absolutely not. There are lots of things Chuuya would change about his father if he could, but he also knows—
He has been loved since the day he
Is their relationship perfect?Absolutely not. There are lots of things Chuuya would change about his father if he could, but he also knows—
He has been loved since the day he
came home from the hospital. Smothered in love, over saturated with care, hovered over—
He can’t imagine losing that. He could never imagine what it was like for Dazai /or/ his sisters to lose their mother.
Dazai barrels on as he chops some vegetables to put into the ramen,
He can’t imagine losing that. He could never imagine what it was like for Dazai /or/ his sisters to lose their mother.
Dazai barrels on as he chops some vegetables to put into the ramen,
trying to get through it in one sitting. “The Port Mafia wasn’t the same back then as it is now. Back then, it was more of a… loosely organized gang of thugs, debt collectors, murderers. Any scumbag could make it into the Mafia. It wasn’t until one of them started to get /smart/
that things began to change.”
After dumping the rest of the sauce, vegetables and one soft-boiled egg into the ramen, Dazai brings it over to him.
It’s in a bowl big enough for /two/, and smells delicious. Despite everything, Chuuya’s stomach stirs and rumbles in anticipation.
After dumping the rest of the sauce, vegetables and one soft-boiled egg into the ramen, Dazai brings it over to him.
It’s in a bowl big enough for /two/, and smells delicious. Despite everything, Chuuya’s stomach stirs and rumbles in anticipation.
He takes the offered chopsticks and slowly starts to dig in, going for the lighter pieces first.
Dazai sits across the table from him, looking weary and strained. He’s always been /youthful/ in appearance, unlined skin soft and his attitude boyishly charming in some ways—
But
Dazai sits across the table from him, looking weary and strained. He’s always been /youthful/ in appearance, unlined skin soft and his attitude boyishly charming in some ways—
But
now he looks like every one of his years is finally catching up to him.
Or maybe he looks like the ghost of the kid who used to run the mafia with a bloody fist. A kid that’s grown up and changed, but can never escape his past.
“Mori Ougai was a wicked man, and he had /plans/.
Or maybe he looks like the ghost of the kid who used to run the mafia with a bloody fist. A kid that’s grown up and changed, but can never escape his past.
“Mori Ougai was a wicked man, and he had /plans/.
He wanted to be in control of the entire city, and wanted the Mafia to be a more cohesive and dangerous unit. He wanted to make a /clan/ where there was none before, except his clan would not be ruled by bloodline, but by strength alone. To do that, he needed people who were
strong, dedicated… and smart.”
Dazai’s next smile is grim, more of a mockery than anything genuine. “I was nine when he killed both of my parents and took me under his wing.”
Chuuya almost drops his chopsticks, staring at him in shock.
/Nine/? He was only /nine/?
When
Dazai’s next smile is grim, more of a mockery than anything genuine. “I was nine when he killed both of my parents and took me under his wing.”
Chuuya almost drops his chopsticks, staring at him in shock.
/Nine/? He was only /nine/?
When
Chuuya was nine, he didn’t even know what gangs /were/. He was in and out of the hospital, slowly getting better and growing stronger. He’d never even been to a public school yet.
He didn’t even know evil /existed/ when he was that young.
But Dazai had been kidnapped and
He didn’t even know evil /existed/ when he was that young.
But Dazai had been kidnapped and
essentially forced into violence, all before he even hit puberty?
Suddenly, Chuuya has /perspective/ on why Dazai reacted so negatively when he sprung the demon prodigy question on him. He wasn’t just hiding some fucked up shit he’d gotten into as a teenager—
He was a /kid/.
Suddenly, Chuuya has /perspective/ on why Dazai reacted so negatively when he sprung the demon prodigy question on him. He wasn’t just hiding some fucked up shit he’d gotten into as a teenager—
He was a /kid/.
He was a traumatized victim of violence, someone who had been /targeted/, and Chuuya sprung those memories on him without warning.
It doesn’t make /hiding/ that information okay, especially after what happened, but…
He understands now.
“The Mafia is not a good place for
It doesn’t make /hiding/ that information okay, especially after what happened, but…
He understands now.
“The Mafia is not a good place for
anyone, really, but especially not for children. Especially not for someone like /me/. I could have whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. Drugs, weapons, violence, money. It was all mine, and Mori always encouraged me to take more.”
Chuuya looks at him, expression crumpling
Chuuya looks at him, expression crumpling
into something like pity. He hasn’t explicitly said what happened, but he sounds so hurt that it’s not hard to read between the lines.
He raises a finger, stopping his words in their tracks. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened during the Mafia. I know the outlines and I can
He raises a finger, stopping his words in their tracks. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened during the Mafia. I know the outlines and I can
put together the idea of what happened, but the details… they’re gone.”
An entire chunk of his young life, stolen from him. Assumingly so bad that he can’t even /remember/ it, his brain blocking out the pain by blocking out the memories.
“I do remember that there was something
An entire chunk of his young life, stolen from him. Assumingly so bad that he can’t even /remember/ it, his brain blocking out the pain by blocking out the memories.
“I do remember that there was something
wrong with me, though,” Dazai says, voice going rough and hoarse.
He doesn’t seem like the steady, strong man that’s taught him so many things since they met, the man that was the pillar of support when Chuuya got sick.
He seems like someone who needed to be /saved/ and never
He doesn’t seem like the steady, strong man that’s taught him so many things since they met, the man that was the pillar of support when Chuuya got sick.
He seems like someone who needed to be /saved/ and never
was. Not until it was far too late.
“I enjoyed hurting people. I enjoyed hurting /myself/. I was a mess, and the Mafia was a mess I was supposed to fix, and there were times where swore that the city would burn with the matches I struck. I didn’t care about anything or anyone.”
“I enjoyed hurting people. I enjoyed hurting /myself/. I was a mess, and the Mafia was a mess I was supposed to fix, and there were times where swore that the city would burn with the matches I struck. I didn’t care about anything or anyone.”
That's the uglier side of trauma. For some people, trauma makes them /hide/. Makes them anxious, more aware of their surroundings and other people, finetunes their reflexes.
And for other people, it feels like their only option to deal with the ravaging pain inside them is to
And for other people, it feels like their only option to deal with the ravaging pain inside them is to
force that pain onto /other/ people, clawing and biting and lashing out, because hurting other people was always better than being alone in the dark. Hurting other people was easier than letting /yourself/ be hurt again, it was better to be /defensive/ than ever risk the
possibility of being hurt again.
It was easier, and it felt better to hurt someone else before they could /ever/ hurt you. When all the kindness has been ripped and beaten and torn out of you,and you were taught, with ruthless certainty,that every kind hand was hiding a dagger
It was easier, and it felt better to hurt someone else before they could /ever/ hurt you. When all the kindness has been ripped and beaten and torn out of you,and you were taught, with ruthless certainty,that every kind hand was hiding a dagger
and that every kind gesture was a cover for cruelty--
Eventually, you learn that the only things you can trust are your own sharp teeth.
"I killed a lot of people, I won't lie to you," Dazai says, a desperate fervor rising in his voice. He finally looks at Chuuya, /really/
Eventually, you learn that the only things you can trust are your own sharp teeth.
"I killed a lot of people, I won't lie to you," Dazai says, a desperate fervor rising in his voice. He finally looks at Chuuya, /really/
looks at him, for the first time since he started talking. His eyes are huge, all the brown snuffed out to be replaced with a pitch black. They practically shine with misery, the ghost of agony reflecting back at him.
"I killed a lot of people, and I hurt a lot more. Most of the
"I killed a lot of people, and I hurt a lot more. Most of the
time, I relished in it. It was…an escape for me, I guess.”
He wants to be judged and condemned for that, he can tell. He’s laying out all the facts in such a manner that would make it easier for Chuuya to be /appalled/ with his behavior and do something drastic about it.
He wants to be judged and condemned for that, he can tell. He’s laying out all the facts in such a manner that would make it easier for Chuuya to be /appalled/ with his behavior and do something drastic about it.
Turns out there’s one thing about his experience with torture that Chuuya didn’t quite expect:
Empathy.
Before, he’d never felt a visceral desire and urge to /hurt/ someone. Even the people he didn’t like, even Shuuji, even people that were just generally assholes that
Empathy.
Before, he’d never felt a visceral desire and urge to /hurt/ someone. Even the people he didn’t like, even Shuuji, even people that were just generally assholes that
honestly /deserved/ to be hurt. He got angry, and he always pushed back when he was confronted, but he never felt a /need/ to actually hurt someone.
Now, he does.
Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it makes him a bad person, maybe it makes him just as fucked up as Nika is—
But if he
Now, he does.
Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it makes him a bad person, maybe it makes him just as fucked up as Nika is—
But if he
had her tied to a chair, bag over her head and a bucketful of water, right now—
He would do it. He would visit his pain upon her, just so the sharp-edged hole in his chest didn’t feel as /empty/. Revenge is a dish that leaves everyone colder, but he would fucking do it.
So
He would do it. He would visit his pain upon her, just so the sharp-edged hole in his chest didn’t feel as /empty/. Revenge is a dish that leaves everyone colder, but he would fucking do it.
So
when he looks at Dazai now, very obviously in pain, knowing what he does, having the /perspective/ that he does…
All he feels is sympathy.
He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know what /to/ say, silently taking another bite of his noodles.
Eventually, Dazai goes on
All he feels is sympathy.
He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know what /to/ say, silently taking another bite of his noodles.
Eventually, Dazai goes on
when he doesn’t answer. “Eventually I met Sasaki. We never /really/ had a relationship, but she was always up for having sex and I was always looking for a way to feel better, so it happened a lot. Yosano never approved, but it never stopped me.”
That makes Chuuya start.
That makes Chuuya start.
While he wouldn't qualify the doctor from last night as /nice/-- he'd probably go for the term /blunt/ and straightforward, almost to the point of bullying-- he would not have pegged her as someone that was in the Mafia.
Though, now that he's thinking about it, it would be
Though, now that he's thinking about it, it would be
reasonable for someone that Dazai was friends with and that was /involved/ with his sister-- he didn't ask but he's /pretty/ sure they're dating, which he doesn't understand because Kouyou is dating Oda... but that's none of his business-- would be from the Mafia.
"She was in
"She was in
the Mafia?"
For the first time this entire conversation, Dazai actually smiles. It's small, thin and wobbly compared to his /usual/ smiles when he's with Chuuya, but it's there. "Yeah. She hasn't changed much, actually. Still wears the same skull-stomping boots."
If it were
For the first time this entire conversation, Dazai actually smiles. It's small, thin and wobbly compared to his /usual/ smiles when he's with Chuuya, but it's there. "Yeah. She hasn't changed much, actually. Still wears the same skull-stomping boots."
If it were
anyone else or if this was a different conversation, Chuuya would say that was an /exaggeration/.
As it is, he's pretty sure Dazai means that /literally/.
Strange to think that the woman who treated him mostly-gently and checked him out with a doctors brusque care is... also a
As it is, he's pretty sure Dazai means that /literally/.
Strange to think that the woman who treated him mostly-gently and checked him out with a doctors brusque care is... also a
murderer.
Damn, is /everyone/ he knows a murderer? His boyfriend, his sister, his sister's boyfriend, his sisters maybe-girlfriend, probably Shuuji too-- aren't the sons of Yakuza men supposed to be dangerous and unhinged?--and hell, probably even Ranpo. It's like he walked into
Damn, is /everyone/ he knows a murderer? His boyfriend, his sister, his sister's boyfriend, his sisters maybe-girlfriend, probably Shuuji too-- aren't the sons of Yakuza men supposed to be dangerous and unhinged?--and hell, probably even Ranpo. It's like he walked into
a cult where the joining requirements require you to /kill somebody/.
"We were never supposed to be friends, actually. I was being groomed for the boss seat, but Mori always had a habit of keeping /spares/. We both knew that she was supposed to be my competition, and if I made
"We were never supposed to be friends, actually. I was being groomed for the boss seat, but Mori always had a habit of keeping /spares/. We both knew that she was supposed to be my competition, and if I made
too many mistakes or defied too many orders... she'd take my place," Dazai says offhandedly, like the idea that his mentor would kill him off if he didn't please him is /normal/. Nothing worth getting /upset/ about. "But we were friends. Good partners too. They called us Double
Black."
Personally,if Chuuya was in the Mafia, he would've chosen a cooler codename. Like... /Corruption/ or something. Something that actually sounded scary.
"Anyways, one thing led to another and eventually I got a call from Sasaki saying she was pregnant. I was just /barely/
Personally,if Chuuya was in the Mafia, he would've chosen a cooler codename. Like... /Corruption/ or something. Something that actually sounded scary.
"Anyways, one thing led to another and eventually I got a call from Sasaki saying she was pregnant. I was just /barely/
sixteen, unprepared and... genuinely afraid. I remember sitting outside a convenience mart that same night, just staring at her positive pregnancy test and thinking that I had somehow become my father."
Chuuya's stomach twists. He's not sure if it's because he's full, or because
Chuuya's stomach twists. He's not sure if it's because he's full, or because
of the mention of Sasaki and Shuuji, or because of how /self-loathing/ Dazai sounds or because of how /relatable/ that is.
As much as he might love his father, as much as he might admire some aspects of him—
He never wants to /become/ him.
“Worse than that, actually,” Dazai
As much as he might love his father, as much as he might admire some aspects of him—
He never wants to /become/ him.
“Worse than that, actually,” Dazai
says, his smile humorless and his voice so full of self-loathing it must be cutting his tongue to speak, “because at least my father had the decency to contain his cruelty to his family. I made the entire city my victim.”
When Chuuya was being told about the rumors of the Demon
When Chuuya was being told about the rumors of the Demon
Prodigy and the so-called Dragon Head Conflict… it all seemed like /stories/. Stories made up to cope with all the bloody violence happening, but ultimately something that was /exaggerated/.
Dazai has still yet to tell him any concrete details— truthfully, Chuuya isn’t even
Dazai has still yet to tell him any concrete details— truthfully, Chuuya isn’t even
sure if he wants to know, because there’s a difference between knowing Dazai killed people and knowing /who/ he killed— but none of it seems anything less than the truth.
Which is hard to comprehend and even /harder/ to reconcile with the image of someone who has always been so
Which is hard to comprehend and even /harder/ to reconcile with the image of someone who has always been so
kind and considerate to him.
Just goes to show that just because someone treats /you/ nicely doesn’t mean they are a nice /person/.
“Did your mentor know? Mori? Is that his name?”
Dazai nods, leaning back in his chair completely. “Not really. I’m sure he suspected something
Just goes to show that just because someone treats /you/ nicely doesn’t mean they are a nice /person/.
“Did your mentor know? Mori? Is that his name?”
Dazai nods, leaning back in his chair completely. “Not really. I’m sure he suspected something
but I never told him. I knew that if /he/ knew, Shuuji would be raised the same way I was. Oda was always going on about how children needed to be protected and I didn't want to condemn another person to the life I had lived. I wanted to be better.
"I wanted to be someone that
"I wanted to be someone that
my mother would be proud of."
Chuuya pushes the bowl of ramen away, full. For the first time in a while, Dazai doesn't try to push him into eating more.
The meds are starting to kick in now, making him woozy. The exhaustion from earlier is creeping back up on him, covering his
Chuuya pushes the bowl of ramen away, full. For the first time in a while, Dazai doesn't try to push him into eating more.
The meds are starting to kick in now, making him woozy. The exhaustion from earlier is creeping back up on him, covering his
entire body in a warm, heavy blanket.
"Is that why you left? Because of Shuuji?" He asks, fighting the urge to lay his head down on the table. He's so /tired/, and now that the painful soreness is hidden behind a wall of painkillers, it's hard to stay awake.
"Partly," Dazai
"Is that why you left? Because of Shuuji?" He asks, fighting the urge to lay his head down on the table. He's so /tired/, and now that the painful soreness is hidden behind a wall of painkillers, it's hard to stay awake.
"Partly," Dazai
answers, instantly honest. "Partly because of that and partly because I was just... done. I could never handle it, and I tried to kill myself more times than I can count, but there was never an escape. Back then, I knew if I didn't leave soon then I would never leave. I would do
exactly what Mori wanted me to; take over the Mafia and spend what little remained of my life hurting myself and others before I was finally gone."
That's the first time he's ever spoken about any suicide attempts. Chuuya was able to put it together by the long scars on his
That's the first time he's ever spoken about any suicide attempts. Chuuya was able to put it together by the long scars on his
wrists, but he didn't expect it to be /multiple/ attempts. Or to be told like this, so...
Underwhelming. Factual, almost, all the emotions taken out of the equation. It's like he's discussing something easily seen and observed, something that just /was/.
/The sky is blue. Birds
Underwhelming. Factual, almost, all the emotions taken out of the equation. It's like he's discussing something easily seen and observed, something that just /was/.
/The sky is blue. Birds
fly, plants grow in the sunlight and I wanted to kill myself./
Easy, like it didn't mean anything, like it wasn't worthy of sympathy or pity. It just was, another fact of life.
Chuuya will never understand on a personal level. There's been times where he was /close/ to dying,
Easy, like it didn't mean anything, like it wasn't worthy of sympathy or pity. It just was, another fact of life.
Chuuya will never understand on a personal level. There's been times where he was /close/ to dying,
other times when something shitty happened and he thought briefly that he'd rather die than deal with it, other times when he /joked/ about wanting to die, but--
He never consistently /wanted/ to die, let alone attempted.
To see someone in so much pain, to see the ghost of the
He never consistently /wanted/ to die, let alone attempted.
To see someone in so much pain, to see the ghost of the
hurt child that Dazai was, is heartbreaking. How can anyone just look /away/ from that, let alone drive someone to the brink of that?
How can someone make a child do all those things?
"When I told him I wanted out, he laughed at me. The thing about the Mafia is that it's a
How can someone make a child do all those things?
"When I told him I wanted out, he laughed at me. The thing about the Mafia is that it's a
life commitment. The only way to leave is in a body bag. Mori said that, and when /I/ said to bring one up then, it ended in... sort of a stalemate. He didn't want me to die because I was useful, but I wasn't allowed to leave. So he sent me on a mission instead, to Keio."
His
His
mouth drops open slightly. "So the stories about the campus fire were /true/? You actually set the fire that killed a bunch of innocent college kids?"
Dazai spreads his hands over the table, fingertips pressing hard into the wood. "It wasn't... /exactly/ like that. Many of those
Dazai spreads his hands over the table, fingertips pressing hard into the wood. "It wasn't... /exactly/ like that. Many of those
kids were children of rival gang bosses, or politicians or someone that was making too much noise or causing too many problems for the Mafia. The Mafia doesn't have a /habit/ of killing innocent people needlessly...but yeah, I did."
Oh. "Did...you enjoy it? Would you do it again
Oh. "Did...you enjoy it? Would you do it again
if you had the chance?"
Because that's the real question here. Obviously Dazai was in pain back then, too young to know how to really cope or handle it. Chuuya's not trying to /overlook/ that.
But did he change? Is he still that damaged, sadistic kid? Would he still needlessly
Because that's the real question here. Obviously Dazai was in pain back then, too young to know how to really cope or handle it. Chuuya's not trying to /overlook/ that.
But did he change? Is he still that damaged, sadistic kid? Would he still needlessly
hurt people for the /fun/ of it?
Perhaps Chuuya is being /judgmental/ but he doesn't think he can be involved with someone that enjoys hurting other people. Not because he's a /saint/ or anything like that, but--
It's wrong. It's /evil/. Chuuya can't support or be attached to
Perhaps Chuuya is being /judgmental/ but he doesn't think he can be involved with someone that enjoys hurting other people. Not because he's a /saint/ or anything like that, but--
It's wrong. It's /evil/. Chuuya can't support or be attached to
someone who is /evil/. Not even just for the sake of others, but for his /own/ safety too.
If Dazai is cruel, then there's nothing stopping him from turning that cruelty on Chuuya, someday. Sure, he says he loves him and he would never hurt him--
But that's what they all say,
If Dazai is cruel, then there's nothing stopping him from turning that cruelty on Chuuya, someday. Sure, he says he loves him and he would never hurt him--
But that's what they all say,
right? No one ever says ‘hey, I’m going to hurt you because I will enjoy it’. They give you /platitudes/ instead, tell people how much they love them, how they would never hurt them, how they didn’t /mean/ it—
And then they hurt them, make victims out of the people closest to
And then they hurt them, make victims out of the people closest to
them.
The reality is that if people get a thrill out of hurting other people, if they /enjoy/ it—
They will enjoy hurting you too. Even if they say they won’t or never will.
Dazai hasn’t hurt him— yet.
There’s always a ‘yet’.
“I didn’t /enjoy/ it the way you probably
The reality is that if people get a thrill out of hurting other people, if they /enjoy/ it—
They will enjoy hurting you too. Even if they say they won’t or never will.
Dazai hasn’t hurt him— yet.
There’s always a ‘yet’.
“I didn’t /enjoy/ it the way you probably
are thinking of,” Dazai says slowly, and he can /tell/ he’s struggling to be purely honest.
That means a lot, especially right now, but it might not be /enough/.
“But I would do it again. That moment made me realize that the only way /out/ was death— just not my own.”
That means a lot, especially right now, but it might not be /enough/.
“But I would do it again. That moment made me realize that the only way /out/ was death— just not my own.”
(Dazai remembers that day vividly. Not because it was particularly bad, or good, or even very memorable in itself.
He remembers it because he /finally/ made a decision for himself. Not one that was subtly guided by Mori, not one he was instructed to make, not a decision he was
He remembers it because he /finally/ made a decision for himself. Not one that was subtly guided by Mori, not one he was instructed to make, not a decision he was
forced into making by being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
He remembers standing outside the burning building, watching it go up in flames and thinking—
/This is it. I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore./
He didn’t even do the job he was /supposed/ to do— he was
He remembers standing outside the burning building, watching it go up in flames and thinking—
/This is it. I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore./
He didn’t even do the job he was /supposed/ to do— he was
/supposed/ to leave the group alive while they burned, to teach them and all the people that came after them a lesson about what happens to those who anger the Mafia, but he ended up smothering them all instead. It doesn't matter if it was out of mercy or just another strategy--
and all things considered, it wasn't the /worst/ thing that he's done--
But he couldn't stop thinking about what life his /child/ would end up with. If this was the fate they were going to be met with some day, because of who Dazai was. If they were going to be punished because
But he couldn't stop thinking about what life his /child/ would end up with. If this was the fate they were going to be met with some day, because of who Dazai was. If they were going to be punished because
of him.
And, despite everything, despite it /all/--
He did want to be a good person. Not because he has staunch morals, or anything like that--
But because of his mother. His mother, who loved him /so/ much and always tried to keep him safe, who made him warm milk when he
And, despite everything, despite it /all/--
He did want to be a good person. Not because he has staunch morals, or anything like that--
But because of his mother. His mother, who loved him /so/ much and always tried to keep him safe, who made him warm milk when he
couldn't sleep, who hung his shitty drawings up on the fridge, who cuddled him in bed and told him stories of far-off lands, who told him he could be /anything/ he wanted to be.
If she could see him now, she would be ashamed. She would ask him /why/, and he would not have an
If she could see him now, she would be ashamed. She would ask him /why/, and he would not have an
answer. He could only say how /much/ it hurt, all the time, and she would pull him into her arms. She would be sympathetic, because he's her /son/ and she loves him.
Not that he would deserve it, but /god/. What he would give to be eight years old again.
It's at that moment
Not that he would deserve it, but /god/. What he would give to be eight years old again.
It's at that moment
that he first realizes...
He became his fathers son. He became /exactly/ what his father wanted him to be-- smart, powerful, cruel, vindictive, successful, proud, /vengeful/--
And become nothing of what his /mother/ wanted him to be. Nothing the loved little boy he once was,
He became his fathers son. He became /exactly/ what his father wanted him to be-- smart, powerful, cruel, vindictive, successful, proud, /vengeful/--
And become nothing of what his /mother/ wanted him to be. Nothing the loved little boy he once was,
was supposed to be.
It wasn't an easy choice.Self-realization is always hard, and it's not like he didn't have any /obstacles/ in his path. It's not like he was free to choose for himself his entire life.
But this, /this/ decision right here, the one that changed it all--
That
It wasn't an easy choice.Self-realization is always hard, and it's not like he didn't have any /obstacles/ in his path. It's not like he was free to choose for himself his entire life.
But this, /this/ decision right here, the one that changed it all--
That
was his. That belonged to /him/, and even though he should've made it to be a /good/ person,to stop hurting people--
He did it for his mother. Tossed the jacket Mori gave him into the fire in her name,turned away from the crumbling building with his hands in his pockets for her.
He did it for his mother. Tossed the jacket Mori gave him into the fire in her name,turned away from the crumbling building with his hands in his pockets for her.
And then--
He picked up a knife, one last time, and sought revenge for her. Justice for her, in the only way he knew how to deliver it.
Mori didn't deserve a bullet. He didn't deserve a impersonal death. He deserved to feel every /ounce/ of pain he'd put Dazai through for the
He picked up a knife, one last time, and sought revenge for her. Justice for her, in the only way he knew how to deliver it.
Mori didn't deserve a bullet. He didn't deserve a impersonal death. He deserved to feel every /ounce/ of pain he'd put Dazai through for the
last seven years.
The thing about Mori is that he was /confident/. He calculated so hard and so long, systematically destroying any perceived threat to him, that he never looked for the snake underneath his boots.
Dazai never wanted power, which is why Mori never expected to
The thing about Mori is that he was /confident/. He calculated so hard and so long, systematically destroying any perceived threat to him, that he never looked for the snake underneath his boots.
Dazai never wanted power, which is why Mori never expected to
end up with one of his own scalpels in his throat, driven there by Dazai's hand.
Revenge isn't cold or satisfying. Revenge is body-warm, the spill of blood over a carpet that will never forget the stain, an empty chair.
That's how Yosano found him, actually, blood inches from
Revenge isn't cold or satisfying. Revenge is body-warm, the spill of blood over a carpet that will never forget the stain, an empty chair.
That's how Yosano found him, actually, blood inches from
the toes of his boots. Without his usual coat, bandages tightly in place, Boss dead on the floor.
He remembers turning to her, seeing how tense her face was and knowing that /she/ knew that Dazai was dangerous. Not only to himself but to her and everyone they knew and to the
He remembers turning to her, seeing how tense her face was and knowing that /she/ knew that Dazai was dangerous. Not only to himself but to her and everyone they knew and to the
entire city itself. He's self-destruction personified, and he would take everyone with him.
The scalpel got tossed on the floor, the metallic clang of metal loud in the silence. The only thing louder is the sound of his boots as he turns, turning to stalk out of the room with
The scalpel got tossed on the floor, the metallic clang of metal loud in the silence. The only thing louder is the sound of his boots as he turns, turning to stalk out of the room with
his head held high.
As he passes Yosano-- one of his only friends, which is ironic because they were never supposed to /be/ friends-- he tilts his head, offers her a sharp smile. "Chair is yours, dragoness."
Is calling the boss chair the /dragon chair/ disrespectful? Probably,
As he passes Yosano-- one of his only friends, which is ironic because they were never supposed to /be/ friends-- he tilts his head, offers her a sharp smile. "Chair is yours, dragoness."
Is calling the boss chair the /dragon chair/ disrespectful? Probably,
but every royal knows--
Royalty is built on blood and bones, and Dazai has spilled plenty of /both/.
That was the last time he saw Yosano and Oda for a very, very long time.)
"The last person I killed was Mori Ougai, former boss of the Port Mafia and my personal tormentor."
Royalty is built on blood and bones, and Dazai has spilled plenty of /both/.
That was the last time he saw Yosano and Oda for a very, very long time.)
"The last person I killed was Mori Ougai, former boss of the Port Mafia and my personal tormentor."
Chuuya draws up one of his legs, resting his chin on his knee. Part of him wants to be /disturbed/ by that admittance, because /killing/ someone is a very drastic and permanent measure.
But it's not like he can say he hasn't gone out of his way to teach someone a /lesson/ for
But it's not like he can say he hasn't gone out of his way to teach someone a /lesson/ for
hurting him. There was some kid that bullied him relentlessly when they were in elementary school. Always calling him /stupid/, saying he was ugly, that kind of stuff.
It really wasn't /that/ bad, especially looking back on it now as an adult, but as a child, it /hurt/. So, one
It really wasn't /that/ bad, especially looking back on it now as an adult, but as a child, it /hurt/. So, one
day when it went a little too far--
He beat his bully up. Got himself suspended for it, and detention for /weeks/, but it was worth it.
It's not the same thing, but the core idea is the same. If someone hurt /him/ that badly, he can't say he would /never/ go to drastic lengths
He beat his bully up. Got himself suspended for it, and detention for /weeks/, but it was worth it.
It's not the same thing, but the core idea is the same. If someone hurt /him/ that badly, he can't say he would /never/ go to drastic lengths
to protect himself. He's a nice person by choice, but he /does/ believe in revenge.
Besides, wasn't killing Mori a /good/ thing? He was a bad guy, he was causing trouble for /everyone/ and hurting lots of people. He was a /bad/ person, and maybe it wasn't /just/ to kill him, but
Besides, wasn't killing Mori a /good/ thing? He was a bad guy, he was causing trouble for /everyone/ and hurting lots of people. He was a /bad/ person, and maybe it wasn't /just/ to kill him, but
maybe it /was/ right.
"What did you do after that?"
Dazai tilts his head, one side of his mouth quirking up humorlessly. "For about five years, I basically drowned myself in drugs, sex and self-avoidance."
Despite how serious this conversation is and how /sad/ that is to hear,
"What did you do after that?"
Dazai tilts his head, one side of his mouth quirking up humorlessly. "For about five years, I basically drowned myself in drugs, sex and self-avoidance."
Despite how serious this conversation is and how /sad/ that is to hear,
Chuuya can't help an amused breath from escaping him. It's /funny/, in the same way that depression jokes on social media are funny--
Because if you can't laugh at the pain, then you have to cry, and laughing feels better.
"I didn't do anything interesting during that time,
Because if you can't laugh at the pain, then you have to cry, and laughing feels better.
"I didn't do anything interesting during that time,
really. I wandered around the world, never staying in one spot for more than a few days. Technically I /was/ on the room-- from the Mafia and from law enforcement-- but it felt more like...finding myself. Coming to terms with what had happened to me, trying to figure out what was
wrong with me and trying to /fix/ it. I read a lot of those self-help books. I visited Sasaki and Shuuji intermittently, but for the most part, I was alone," Dazai says,reaching out for his cooling bowl of ramen.
Chuuya watches him take the bowl into the kitchen to clean it up,
Chuuya watches him take the bowl into the kitchen to clean it up,
taking the time to dump all the extra food into containers before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. He's noticed Dazai is like that, always likes to keep himself busy and /especially/ so when they're having difficult conversations.
That world-wandering life sounds /nice/, from
That world-wandering life sounds /nice/, from
his perspective. He's not trying to ignore Dazai's obvious mental health issues and trauma, especially in that time, but--
He's always wanted to travel. If he had the chance, he probably wouldn't ever come /back/.
So why did Dazai? Why did he come back to the place where he was
He's always wanted to travel. If he had the chance, he probably wouldn't ever come /back/.
So why did Dazai? Why did he come back to the place where he was
/put/ through all of that? Why did he come back to where he was hurt, where he caused so much pain?
Why did he come back at all when he could’ve started a whole new life somewhere /else/?
He’s guessing he could, anyways. He doesn’t really know how any of that works, but he
Why did he come back at all when he could’ve started a whole new life somewhere /else/?
He’s guessing he could, anyways. He doesn’t really know how any of that works, but he
completely believes that Dazai can do whatever he puts his mind to.
“Why did you come back to Yokohama? Wouldn’t it have been better if you just… stayed away? Started someplace new?”
Dazai doesn’t answer him right away, humming thoughtfully to himself. He’s moved onto making
“Why did you come back to Yokohama? Wouldn’t it have been better if you just… stayed away? Started someplace new?”
Dazai doesn’t answer him right away, humming thoughtfully to himself. He’s moved onto making
breakfast for the pets now.
The scene is so /domestic/—Dazai padding over to the box that holds Baki’s food, expertly dodging the little feline who has come into the kitchen as soon as he heard the bowl rattle, then setting that bowl aside so he can make the dishes for the dogs,
The scene is so /domestic/—Dazai padding over to the box that holds Baki’s food, expertly dodging the little feline who has come into the kitchen as soon as he heard the bowl rattle, then setting that bowl aside so he can make the dishes for the dogs,
then setting them all up in their respective places— that it makes Chuuya /ache/.
Whenever he envisioned his future, it was always something like this. A nice home, pets that loved him, a /husband/ that loved him, somewhere where he felt safe and secure and /happy/.
Part of
Whenever he envisioned his future, it was always something like this. A nice home, pets that loved him, a /husband/ that loved him, somewhere where he felt safe and secure and /happy/.
Part of
him was—still is— so hung up on having that with /Dazai/, that he can barely stand watching it right now.
Because /now/, he’s not sure if he can have it. Not sure if he /wants/ it, not sure he can handle it.
Because he can never go through that again. He can never be tortured
Because /now/, he’s not sure if he can have it. Not sure if he /wants/ it, not sure he can handle it.
Because he can never go through that again. He can never be tortured
again. He’s a /strong/ person— he would never discredit himself by saying he wasn’t— but he’s not /invincible/.
He’s not like Dazai. He wants to /live/.
He’s not like Yosano, either, who looks like she might even /enjoy/ being tortured.
He can’t do it. He /won’t/. If that
He’s not like Dazai. He wants to /live/.
He’s not like Yosano, either, who looks like she might even /enjoy/ being tortured.
He can’t do it. He /won’t/. If that
means giving this up, then…
Well. At least he always has his fathers home to go back to, right?
“My life is here,” Dazai says eventually, after all the pets are happily scarfing down their breakfast. “My parents are buried here, my friends are here. Sasaki and Shuuji were
Well. At least he always has his fathers home to go back to, right?
“My life is here,” Dazai says eventually, after all the pets are happily scarfing down their breakfast. “My parents are buried here, my friends are here. Sasaki and Shuuji were
here for a long time. I didn’t want Mori to win by chasing me out. I wanted to retake part of my history.”
That makes sense. Even if Chuuya were given the option, he doesn’t think he’d /permanently/ leave his family or his home. He wants to travel, but home will always be home.
That makes sense. Even if Chuuya were given the option, he doesn’t think he’d /permanently/ leave his family or his home. He wants to travel, but home will always be home.
Chuuya wants to ask more questions. Wants fo get to the bottom of things, wants to know every dirty and ugly detail. The more he knows, the more informed his decision will be.
But he’s getting tired now. The medicine combined with the full stomach and the lingering exhaustion
But he’s getting tired now. The medicine combined with the full stomach and the lingering exhaustion
is finally catching up with him. He’s starting to fall asleep at the table, eyes growing heavier and heavier.
There’s one last thing he really wants to know now. “What do you do now? You’re still… part of the Mafia, aren’t you?”
Dazai shakes his head. “No. I sell information.
There’s one last thing he really wants to know now. “What do you do now? You’re still… part of the Mafia, aren’t you?”
Dazai shakes his head. “No. I sell information.
I have worked with the Mafia, but I’ve also worked with the other gangs in Yokohama as well as law enforcement. I’m not loyal to any one group.”
Right. It makes sense that information is such a lucrative career, though he’s confused on how Dazai manages a network and the deals
Right. It makes sense that information is such a lucrative career, though he’s confused on how Dazai manages a network and the deals
without being attached to a group.
“It’s a relatively safe business. Everyone wants what I have and no one wants to piss me off enough to send me working with their enemy, so… for the most part, it’s peaceful,” Dazai continues unwarranted, an edge coming into his voice.
He’s
“It’s a relatively safe business. Everyone wants what I have and no one wants to piss me off enough to send me working with their enemy, so… for the most part, it’s peaceful,” Dazai continues unwarranted, an edge coming into his voice.
He’s
trying to convince him that what happened isn’t /normal/. Isn’t par for the course. Kidnapping and torture isn’t something that /usually/ happens.
God, Chuuya wants to believe him. Wants to believe him more than /anything/. Wants to just put aside his fear and pain, and just
God, Chuuya wants to believe him. Wants to believe him more than /anything/. Wants to just put aside his fear and pain, and just
enjoy what was almost taken away from him.
Can he?
“That’s basically the whole story,” Dazai mutters, stalling out in the kitchen now that he has nothing to do. He looks almost /panicked/ without something to keep his hands busy. “Minus the details,but I figured now isn’t the
Can he?
“That’s basically the whole story,” Dazai mutters, stalling out in the kitchen now that he has nothing to do. He looks almost /panicked/ without something to keep his hands busy. “Minus the details,but I figured now isn’t the
time for that. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know but…,” he pauses there, drumming his fingers against the kitchen island, a nervous background noise. “What are you thinking?”
The last question is almost /desperate/. Dazai’s kept it together for most of the conversation,
The last question is almost /desperate/. Dazai’s kept it together for most of the conversation,
telling him his life story with a sort of detached air, like it didn't really /matter/ to him. It's impressive, considering the /last/ time Chuuya got even close to discovering his past, he yelled at him and called him /Nakahara/.
Among all the other things he /should/ be
Among all the other things he /should/ be
worried about, that still manages to haunt him, somehow.
Still, it's--
It's a /lot/ and Chuuya doesn't know /what/ to think. A large part of him just wants to ignore everything that happened in the past and just /move on/, be happy with Dazai.
Part of him is shivering in
Still, it's--
It's a /lot/ and Chuuya doesn't know /what/ to think. A large part of him just wants to ignore everything that happened in the past and just /move on/, be happy with Dazai.
Part of him is shivering in
terror, wondering what painful thing will happen /next/. That part wants to run, flee all the way back home to his father, so he can hide under the covers of his childhood bed, where nothing will ever hurt him again.
But most of him is--
"I think," Chuuya says slowly, letting
But most of him is--
"I think," Chuuya says slowly, letting
his leg drop to the floor. "That I am very tired and I want to go to sleep."
It's /true/ just as much as it is an evasion tactic. His head feels stuffed full of cotton, sluggish and exhausted. His body is heavy and half-numb, the soreness fading away into a suffocating weight.
It's /true/ just as much as it is an evasion tactic. His head feels stuffed full of cotton, sluggish and exhausted. His body is heavy and half-numb, the soreness fading away into a suffocating weight.
Sleeping gives him more time to /think/, but it also gives him more time to recover.
If he's going to make a decision on what to do about /them/-- and he has to, one way or another-- then he wants to do it when he's thinking the clearest. He doesn't want to make a /rash/
If he's going to make a decision on what to do about /them/-- and he has to, one way or another-- then he wants to do it when he's thinking the clearest. He doesn't want to make a /rash/
decision and end up regretting it for--
For a long time.
(For the rest of his life.)
Besides, he /still/ has to talk to his sister and get her story. He's not nearly finished yet, and he wants to have all the facts before he decides what to do.
So he's just going to sleep on
For a long time.
(For the rest of his life.)
Besides, he /still/ has to talk to his sister and get her story. He's not nearly finished yet, and he wants to have all the facts before he decides what to do.
So he's just going to sleep on
it for now. He thinks better when he /feels/ better.
Dazai looks like he wants to /argue/, biting his lip until it looks like it hurts. Waiting for an answer is probably /painful/ for him. Not knowing what to expect or how to prepare for it must be hard for him.
After a second
Dazai looks like he wants to /argue/, biting his lip until it looks like it hurts. Waiting for an answer is probably /painful/ for him. Not knowing what to expect or how to prepare for it must be hard for him.
After a second
and a long, blown-out breath, he nods. He doesn't push him to make a decision right /now/, leaving the ball in his court.
It feels strange to have all the power in the relationship when most of their relationship has been spent with Chuuya submitting to Dazai.
He almost wishes
It feels strange to have all the power in the relationship when most of their relationship has been spent with Chuuya submitting to Dazai.
He almost wishes
he /would/ take control and tell him what to do and what to think.Following orders is /much/ easier than deciding for himself.
But he's also grateful that he doesn't because--
This feels like it might be Chuuya's last chance to escape this kind of life, if that's what he wants.
But he's also grateful that he doesn't because--
This feels like it might be Chuuya's last chance to escape this kind of life, if that's what he wants.
Right now he's still reeling from everything that happened in the last thirty-six hours, so it's easier to separate himself from his /feelings/ for Dazai.
That won't always be the case though. If he stays, if he /loves/ him--
He's going to do it forever. There's no going back.
That won't always be the case though. If he stays, if he /loves/ him--
He's going to do it forever. There's no going back.
There’s no changing his mind because he truly doesn’t believe he will ever /want/ to change his mind.
Maybe he’s young.Maybe he’s stupid.Maybe he’s naïve and all these other adjectives to describe his youthful inexperience—
But some part of him /knows/ that Dazai is it for him.
Maybe he’s young.Maybe he’s stupid.Maybe he’s naïve and all these other adjectives to describe his youthful inexperience—
But some part of him /knows/ that Dazai is it for him.
That’s his /soulmate/. That’s his other half, that’s who he was /meant/ to be with.
More importantly, that’s who he /wants/ to be with. He wants to spend his life with him. Their relationship has never been conventional in any sense of the word, but it has been the /best/ thing
More importantly, that’s who he /wants/ to be with. He wants to spend his life with him. Their relationship has never been conventional in any sense of the word, but it has been the /best/ thing
he has ever experienced.
Not even just the /good/ parts either. The playful banter, the smug teasing, the silent compensation for emotions. How /owned/ Chuuya feels sometimes.
He likes being owned. He likes being taken over, likes following directions, likes wearing the—
Not even just the /good/ parts either. The playful banter, the smug teasing, the silent compensation for emotions. How /owned/ Chuuya feels sometimes.
He likes being owned. He likes being taken over, likes following directions, likes wearing the—
His hand floats up to his neck, fingers wrapping around the sudden-emptiness of it.
His /collar/.
With how exhausted he’s feeling, he didn’t notice it before, but Dazai’s wearing his collar. It’s double-looped around his wrist, the small heart ring pressed against the back of
His /collar/.
With how exhausted he’s feeling, he didn’t notice it before, but Dazai’s wearing his collar. It’s double-looped around his wrist, the small heart ring pressed against the back of
his wrist.
Part of him wants to /demand/ it back. /That’s /mine/, you gave it to me, it belongs to me and I want it /back/./
He’s not going to wear if it he’s not /commuted/, though.
And right now? He’s not sure if he is.
The prospect of climbing the stairs is incredibly
Part of him wants to /demand/ it back. /That’s /mine/, you gave it to me, it belongs to me and I want it /back/./
He’s not going to wear if it he’s not /commuted/, though.
And right now? He’s not sure if he is.
The prospect of climbing the stairs is incredibly
daunting. The trek /down/ was bad enough, but now he has to somehow make the climb /upwards/ when all his muscles feel like painful bricks beneath his skin.
Or he doesn't, actually.
With a sigh, he surrenders his pride. It's not /that/ big of a deal, and he'd rather just go to
Or he doesn't, actually.
With a sigh, he surrenders his pride. It's not /that/ big of a deal, and he'd rather just go to
bed /without/ putting himself in unnecessary pain.
Besides, this might be one of the last times he gets to /enjoy/ something like this. "Will you carry me up? My legs hurt."
Dazai /immediately/ pounces on that admission, head whipping around to pin with a concerned look. "Hurt
Besides, this might be one of the last times he gets to /enjoy/ something like this. "Will you carry me up? My legs hurt."
Dazai /immediately/ pounces on that admission, head whipping around to pin with a concerned look. "Hurt
how?"
Exasperated, Chuuya rolls his eyes. He knows Dazai has /reason/ to be concerned and he only wants to /help/, but Yosano gave him the all-clear /and/ he agreed to go to the hospital if he needed it.
He doesn't need it. Doesn't /want/ it either, because hospitals are
Exasperated, Chuuya rolls his eyes. He knows Dazai has /reason/ to be concerned and he only wants to /help/, but Yosano gave him the all-clear /and/ he agreed to go to the hospital if he needed it.
He doesn't need it. Doesn't /want/ it either, because hospitals are
terrible places to recover, surprisingly, and they'll call his /dad/. He can't explain what happened to him to /anyone/ without getting the authorities involved.
That's just /another/ thing he doesn't want to deal with right now.
"Like I'm /sore/. I'm fine, I promise you. I'm
That's just /another/ thing he doesn't want to deal with right now.
"Like I'm /sore/. I'm fine, I promise you. I'm
just sore and /tired/ and overwhelmed and I just /really/ want to go to bed and it's quicker if you /help me/."
Dazai looks on the verge of calling him a liar, squinting at him like he's trying to detect the lie in his posture. He's probably lucky he doesn't have a phone in hand
Dazai looks on the verge of calling him a liar, squinting at him like he's trying to detect the lie in his posture. He's probably lucky he doesn't have a phone in hand
because he might've just called 119 right off the /bat/. He looks like he's on the /verge/ of it anyways--
Heaving another, /louder/ sigh, Chuuya begins the process of standing up. Most of the pain is centered in his back and ankles, so in theory, once he gets moving, it'll be
Heaving another, /louder/ sigh, Chuuya begins the process of standing up. Most of the pain is centered in his back and ankles, so in theory, once he gets moving, it'll be
easier--
Dazai beats him to it. Before he can even get his weight under himself, he's coming around the side of the table and swooping him up into a bridal carry.
It's a bit /messier/ than the usual way he carries up and Chuuya's toe bangs against the table, but it's still
Dazai beats him to it. Before he can even get his weight under himself, he's coming around the side of the table and swooping him up into a bridal carry.
It's a bit /messier/ than the usual way he carries up and Chuuya's toe bangs against the table, but it's still
/nice/.
Chuuya curls into him, pressing his nose against the side of his neck. His hand comes up, coasting over his shoulder and draping over it, fingers curling in his shirt.
Maybe it's wrong to give Dazai hope-- to give them /both/ hope-- when it still might be /false/ but...
Chuuya curls into him, pressing his nose against the side of his neck. His hand comes up, coasting over his shoulder and draping over it, fingers curling in his shirt.
Maybe it's wrong to give Dazai hope-- to give them /both/ hope-- when it still might be /false/ but...
It feels /so/ nice to be cared for. /So/ nice to be treated gently, to let someone /else/ take over for a moment so he can breathe without the weight of the world crushing him underneath.
Yoko follows them upstairs again, sniffing interestedly at Chuuya's arm. She's been clingy
Yoko follows them upstairs again, sniffing interestedly at Chuuya's arm. She's been clingy
all day, reluctant to leave his side even when she's supposed to be eating or going outside.
The sight of her doggy smile, ears flopped sideways with the tilt of her head, is enough to fill him with the burning desire to /stay/. He already said goodbye to her once, and he
The sight of her doggy smile, ears flopped sideways with the tilt of her head, is enough to fill him with the burning desire to /stay/. He already said goodbye to her once, and he
doesn't ever want to do it /again/.
She's the first animal he would ever consider a /pet/, and that bond runs /deep/.
Dazai sets Chuuya in bed gently, dragging some of the pillows on his side of the bed and stuffing them under his back and between his legs as support.
The bed
She's the first animal he would ever consider a /pet/, and that bond runs /deep/.
Dazai sets Chuuya in bed gently, dragging some of the pillows on his side of the bed and stuffing them under his back and between his legs as support.
The bed
is /heavenly/ on his body, the perfect mix of support and comfort that he sinks into eagerly.
Sleep pulls heavily at his eyes. He barely even has time to pull the blanket up to his shoulder before his eyelids start dropping.
Dazai hesitates for a moment, but when Chuuya doesn't
Sleep pulls heavily at his eyes. He barely even has time to pull the blanket up to his shoulder before his eyelids start dropping.
Dazai hesitates for a moment, but when Chuuya doesn't
move to invite him in, he seems to take the subtle hint and backs off. Yoko eagerly takes the spot instead.
It's only when he's making his way out of the room entirely that Chuuya remembers he has one more, very /important/ question:
"If I wanted to leave, would you let me?"
It's only when he's making his way out of the room entirely that Chuuya remembers he has one more, very /important/ question:
"If I wanted to leave, would you let me?"
Maybe it's /naive/ to expect Dazai to give him an honest answer when lying would be so much easier and beneficial for him--
But he's never lied to him before. Not outright, at least. Never when it mattered.
Somehow, Chuuya manages to still trust /that/ and trust him.
Dazai
But he's never lied to him before. Not outright, at least. Never when it mattered.
Somehow, Chuuya manages to still trust /that/ and trust him.
Dazai
pauses in the doorway, hand coming up to curl around the doorframe. His shoulders are more tense than Chuuya's ever seen them, but his /voice/ rings with genuine truth and honesty. "Yes. If you wanted to leave, I would let you. I would never /hurt/ you."
But he /did/ hurt him.
But he /did/ hurt him.
Whether by lies of omission or vicious words or sheer trauma response--
Chuuya has been hurt by him and because of him. Neither of them can escape that reality.
Now, they just have to move on and hope they can both stay whole in the aftermath.
Turning over, Chuuya hugs Yoko to
Chuuya has been hurt by him and because of him. Neither of them can escape that reality.
Now, they just have to move on and hope they can both stay whole in the aftermath.
Turning over, Chuuya hugs Yoko to
his chest, burying his face in her fur to drown himself in the scent of dog and faint pet shampoo.
He sleeps.
Everything is easier when he's sleeping.
-------- +
The next day, Chuuya finds himself with a /choice/.
He slept nearly the entire day yesterday, only waking to
He sleeps.
Everything is easier when he's sleeping.
-------- +
The next day, Chuuya finds himself with a /choice/.
He slept nearly the entire day yesterday, only waking to
scarf down some food or go to the bathroom. He hasn't had a real conversation with Dazai since the one in the kitchen, choosing to make stilted small talk when he came down for dinner instead.
This morning, when he woke up and it became obvious that he was going to /stay/ awake,
This morning, when he woke up and it became obvious that he was going to /stay/ awake,
Dazai presented him with a phone.
"Yours was... smashed," he explained, delicately skirting around the subject of his kidnapping. "I couldn't fix it, but I managed to input the SIM card into this one, so you should have everything."
The phone is sleek, one of the newer
"Yours was... smashed," he explained, delicately skirting around the subject of his kidnapping. "I couldn't fix it, but I managed to input the SIM card into this one, so you should have everything."
The phone is sleek, one of the newer
generations of iPhone. It's actually much better than his /old/ phone, which makes him snort with irony.
Only takes a kidnapping for a phone upgrade.
He spends at least an hour procrastinating, dicking around on his social medias and making sure all his apps work and his photos
Only takes a kidnapping for a phone upgrade.
He spends at least an hour procrastinating, dicking around on his social medias and making sure all his apps work and his photos
are all in the same albums.
His messaging app gets a thorough combing. The conversation he has with Kouyou gets inspected, wondering if there was any /clue/ about her career choice. If there was something he /missed/, if there was a way he could've known if he was smart enough
His messaging app gets a thorough combing. The conversation he has with Kouyou gets inspected, wondering if there was any /clue/ about her career choice. If there was something he /missed/, if there was a way he could've known if he was smart enough
or observant enough.
He doesn't find anything, which is just as relieving as it is disappointing.
Despite the fact that he knows he has to actually /talk/ to her, he skips past the 'call' button for now and heads into his messages with Dazai.
This is a land full of nostalgia
He doesn't find anything, which is just as relieving as it is disappointing.
Despite the fact that he knows he has to actually /talk/ to her, he skips past the 'call' button for now and heads into his messages with Dazai.
This is a land full of nostalgia
and memories. Pictures of Dazai and Yoko and things he offered to buy Chuuya. Sweet goodnight messages, the time they sexted,date plans.
Chuuya hovers over a picture of them in Osaka, wondering where it all went so /wrong/. There's very little he wouldn't give to go back to that
Chuuya hovers over a picture of them in Osaka, wondering where it all went so /wrong/. There's very little he wouldn't give to go back to that
time of relaxation, lust and /love/. How easy it all was back then, how /natural/.
They never fought back then.
Eventually he sighs and navigates to the calling app. He could text Kouyou, but that robs him of the chance to hear her voice and detect if she's /lying/ to him.
They never fought back then.
Eventually he sighs and navigates to the calling app. He could text Kouyou, but that robs him of the chance to hear her voice and detect if she's /lying/ to him.
She's always been an /accomplished/ liar, but he knows all her tells.
Benefits of being siblings.
There's a little '1' notification hovering over the voicemail section. He almost ignores it entirely because he's /pretty/ sure it's about his defaulted scholarships for school,
Benefits of being siblings.
There's a little '1' notification hovering over the voicemail section. He almost ignores it entirely because he's /pretty/ sure it's about his defaulted scholarships for school,
which he now has to pay /back/ and he’s technically in debt for—
Which fucking /sucks/, by the way, to be in /debt/ when he’s only eighteen, young and with no /real/ career prospects. He spent his whole life working his /ass/ off so he wouldn’t have to take out loans for school—
Which fucking /sucks/, by the way, to be in /debt/ when he’s only eighteen, young and with no /real/ career prospects. He spent his whole life working his /ass/ off so he wouldn’t have to take out loans for school—
And like everyone says, life’s a /bitch/, and he somehow wound up there anyway.
He doesn’t want to listen to it right now, because he can only handle so many things at once and his /torture/ recovery comes before the loan payoffs.
But he should at least delete it, right? Out
He doesn’t want to listen to it right now, because he can only handle so many things at once and his /torture/ recovery comes before the loan payoffs.
But he should at least delete it, right? Out
of sight, out of mind or whatever the saying is.Besides,the notification /bugs/ him.
It’ll only take him a few seconds. It puts off calling his sister a little longer.
Navigating to his voicemail box,he expects to see a call from an unknown number.
It’s not. It’s from /Dazai/.
It’ll only take him a few seconds. It puts off calling his sister a little longer.
Navigating to his voicemail box,he expects to see a call from an unknown number.
It’s not. It’s from /Dazai/.
That in itself is /surprising/— Dazai almost /never/ leaves voicemails, and if Chuuya doesn’t pick up his calls then he’ll send a text instead— but it’s also.. a /long/ message.
Almost a /minute/ long, which is practically a record in this day and age.
It was also left on the
Almost a /minute/ long, which is practically a record in this day and age.
It was also left on the
day of their break up. Not even an hour after the fact, actually.
Which isn’t /that/ long ago in terms of linear time—almost three days— but still. It seems like so /long/ ago.
His thumb hovers over the play button, wondering what it /says/. Is it angry? /Sad/?
Is it an
Which isn’t /that/ long ago in terms of linear time—almost three days— but still. It seems like so /long/ ago.
His thumb hovers over the play button, wondering what it /says/. Is it angry? /Sad/?
Is it an
/apology/?
Maybe he should wait until he’s in a better state of mind to listen to this but—
Only one way to find out, right? He’s never been a coward before, no reason to start /now/.
He presses play, curled entirely beneath the blankets of Dazai’s bed, a protective fort of
Maybe he should wait until he’s in a better state of mind to listen to this but—
Only one way to find out, right? He’s never been a coward before, no reason to start /now/.
He presses play, curled entirely beneath the blankets of Dazai’s bed, a protective fort of
his own making. He has a feeling he’ll need it.
The first second of the voicemail is just silence, offset by what sounds like a miserably wet sniffle. He almost starts to think that the voicemail was just an accident, but then—
“/Baby/—,”
Dazai’s voice is /wet/, choked with
The first second of the voicemail is just silence, offset by what sounds like a miserably wet sniffle. He almost starts to think that the voicemail was just an accident, but then—
“/Baby/—,”
Dazai’s voice is /wet/, choked with
such obvious emotion that it makes Chuuya’s heart squeeze in response. He’s heard Dazai when he was angry, frustrated, pleasured, tired—
But he’s never heard him choke on a /sob/ before.
“Chuuya—“ the fact that he /corrects/ himself hurts, because he doesn’t know if it means
But he’s never heard him choke on a /sob/ before.
“Chuuya—“ the fact that he /corrects/ himself hurts, because he doesn’t know if it means
he doesn’t /want/ to call him that or if he doesn’t think he /can/, “I— I know you’re /hurt/ and you might not want to talk to me—,”
That’s /wrong/. Chuuya /always/ wants to talk to him. He wants to tell him a /lifetime/ of secrets and stories, he wants to tell him /everything/,
That’s /wrong/. Chuuya /always/ wants to talk to him. He wants to tell him a /lifetime/ of secrets and stories, he wants to tell him /everything/,
all the time.
“And that’s /okay/, I just— I didn’t /mean/ it, okay?”
When he says it like /that/, like he’s /desperate/ to be prove it, it’s impossible /not/ to believe him.
In the background, there’s another wet sniff, and what sounds like a faint grumble from Baki.
“And that’s /okay/, I just— I didn’t /mean/ it, okay?”
When he says it like /that/, like he’s /desperate/ to be prove it, it’s impossible /not/ to believe him.
In the background, there’s another wet sniff, and what sounds like a faint grumble from Baki.
"I shouldn't have said those things to you," Dazai continues, the replay of his voice somehow managing to translate the sheer self loathing that sentence holds. "O was just /upset/ and hurt and surprised and-- I'm /sorry/, so just...at least come back for your meds."
Even /then/
Even /then/
he was concerned about his health, and maybe that shouldn't be a big deal but--
Chuuya has learned, from his fathers example, that the people who love you most will go out of their way to make sure you feel happy and /healthy/ at all times.
Dazai made /mistakes/, but he also
Chuuya has learned, from his fathers example, that the people who love you most will go out of their way to make sure you feel happy and /healthy/ at all times.
Dazai made /mistakes/, but he also
tried to /fix/ them and--
Isn't that what matters? Isn't that what's /important/?
"It's only five hours until your next dose. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, and that's okay but just... come get your meds, /please/. You need them."
The voicemail ends there.
Isn't that what matters? Isn't that what's /important/?
"It's only five hours until your next dose. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, and that's okay but just... come get your meds, /please/. You need them."
The voicemail ends there.
The silence is resounding, almost deafening underneath the blankets of Dazai's bed.
He's alone with the realization that--
Dazai /tried/ to fix the fight. It was too little too late, but he called him, he /apologized/, he wanted to /fix/ things. He wasn't expecting /any/ of
He's alone with the realization that--
Dazai /tried/ to fix the fight. It was too little too late, but he called him, he /apologized/, he wanted to /fix/ things. He wasn't expecting /any/ of
this to happen, Chuuya basically /ambushed/ him and /forced/ him to tell him what he now knows is a very traumatic story when he had already /promised/ to tell him, Chuuya was just /impatient/ and didn't want to /wait/.
And despite the mistakes that he makes-- that /both/ of
And despite the mistakes that he makes-- that /both/ of
them make-- Dazai is always trying to pick up the pieces and put them back together again. Trying to make them /better/, learning from what he did wrong and /evolving/--
And always trying to make Chuuya /happy/. He can only think of this /one/ time where he actively /hurt/ his
And always trying to make Chuuya /happy/. He can only think of this /one/ time where he actively /hurt/ his
feelings. This is the one time /he's/ fucked up, and yes, it was /huge/ and it led to unfortunate consequences--
But he always gave Chuuya another chance when he fucked up, didn't he?
Besides-- and this is the /agonizing/ part that he's been trying to avoid thinking about for
But he always gave Chuuya another chance when he fucked up, didn't he?
Besides-- and this is the /agonizing/ part that he's been trying to avoid thinking about for
the past two days-- it's not like he's /blameless/ either. He fell for Fyodor's trick, he instigated the fight, he left the house when he could've /literally/ just gone out in the backyard for ten minutes while he called his sister.
The worst part-- the absolute /worst/ part--
The worst part-- the absolute /worst/ part--
is trying to come to terms with the fact that he's not blameless in his own trauma.
If he had been /smarter/ or less rash, or /trusted/ Dazai or tried to be /kinder/--
This could've all been avoided.
It didn't have to happen like this. This wasn't /meant/ to happen-- it just
If he had been /smarter/ or less rash, or /trusted/ Dazai or tried to be /kinder/--
This could've all been avoided.
It didn't have to happen like this. This wasn't /meant/ to happen-- it just
/did/.
It's unfortunate, it's /horrible/, it's something he has to /recover/ from--
But he can't give up on Dazai. Can't give up on /them/. Not when things are /finally/ starting to go right, not when they're just getting /good/.
Not after Dazai /confessed/ to him, even if
It's unfortunate, it's /horrible/, it's something he has to /recover/ from--
But he can't give up on Dazai. Can't give up on /them/. Not when things are /finally/ starting to go right, not when they're just getting /good/.
Not after Dazai /confessed/ to him, even if
that ended up going wrong too.
He's not ready to give up yet. He's not ready to let /go/, not before he's experienced /everything/ with Dazai.
Plus, it's not like he can /actually/ get away from the Mafia now. His sister is the /boss/ and while she was adept at keeping him safe
He's not ready to give up yet. He's not ready to let /go/, not before he's experienced /everything/ with Dazai.
Plus, it's not like he can /actually/ get away from the Mafia now. His sister is the /boss/ and while she was adept at keeping him safe
for a /while/, it's obvious that time is up. The spell has been broken, and now Chuuya has been dropped into the world of the underground by association.
And if he's going to be here /anyways/, he might as well be /happy/. He might as well have what he /wants/, what he /loves/.
And if he's going to be here /anyways/, he might as well be /happy/. He might as well have what he /wants/, what he /loves/.
He might as well have Dazai, if he'll have him too.
Bolstered by a strange sense of confidence and /motivation/, Chuuya navigates back to his sisters contact information.
This time, he doesn't hesitate before pressing the call button.
It only rings twice before Kouyou's voice
Bolstered by a strange sense of confidence and /motivation/, Chuuya navigates back to his sisters contact information.
This time, he doesn't hesitate before pressing the call button.
It only rings twice before Kouyou's voice
interrupts the ringing. "Chuuya?"
She sounds the /same/, if concerned, and it fills him with the sense of /home/ and safety. "Hey, ane-san."
"I'm so glad you're /okay/," she says, earnest, a hint of tears in her voice. She's rarely so /vulnerable/ with her emotions. "I was so
She sounds the /same/, if concerned, and it fills him with the sense of /home/ and safety. "Hey, ane-san."
"I'm so glad you're /okay/," she says, earnest, a hint of tears in her voice. She's rarely so /vulnerable/ with her emotions. "I was so
worried about you."
Chuuya can /imagine/. Kouyou has always been, for better or for worse, something between a sister and a /mother/ for him. They've always had this weird dynamic where she felt /responsible/ for him because of how lonely her own childhood was and how sick he
Chuuya can /imagine/. Kouyou has always been, for better or for worse, something between a sister and a /mother/ for him. They've always had this weird dynamic where she felt /responsible/ for him because of how lonely her own childhood was and how sick he
was himself and how /busy/ their father was.
It's created this /weird/ bond between them, and he only began to realize it when he started to hang out with Yuan and her sister. Their relationship was nothing like his and Kouyou's is.
"I know," he mutters, curling up tighter. He
It's created this /weird/ bond between them, and he only began to realize it when he started to hang out with Yuan and her sister. Their relationship was nothing like his and Kouyou's is.
"I know," he mutters, curling up tighter. He
has Dazai's pillow clutched to his chest, a meager source of comfort that he clings onto desperately. "But Yosano said I was fine,and I feel better now."
The mention of /Yosano/ brings back the tension between them. It's a reminder that Kouyou isn't who she always /told/ him she
The mention of /Yosano/ brings back the tension between them. It's a reminder that Kouyou isn't who she always /told/ him she
was.
It's a reminder that she might be his sister who cared for him, but she's also a /liar/.
Before she can say anything, Chuuya is interrupting her, barreling onward with the conversation before she can avoid it. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you /tell/ me you're the
It's a reminder that she might be his sister who cared for him, but she's also a /liar/.
Before she can say anything, Chuuya is interrupting her, barreling onward with the conversation before she can avoid it. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you /tell/ me you're the
head of the one of the most dangerous operations in /Japan/?"
The first answer he gets is a /sigh/ and the sound of a tea cup rattling. She's always been a tea-drinker when she's /stressed/.
"First off, we shouldn't be having this conversation over the /phone/ and you should
The first answer he gets is a /sigh/ and the sound of a tea cup rattling. She's always been a tea-drinker when she's /stressed/.
"First off, we shouldn't be having this conversation over the /phone/ and you should
definitely not say things like /that/. This is a conversation that's much better to be had in person."
/Anger/ rises up. Maybe she's right, but she's also /avoiding/ the conversation. She's playing it off, making him /wait/, giving herself time to come up with /better/ answers.
/Anger/ rises up. Maybe she's right, but she's also /avoiding/ the conversation. She's playing it off, making him /wait/, giving herself time to come up with /better/ answers.
Telling him to /wait/ like he's a /child/ or something.
"Tell me now or I'm gonna get /pissed/," he hisses, digging his fingers into the pillow. He /hates/ being left in the dark like this.
Another moment of silence and then--
"Fine," Kouyou says, giving in. He can hear her
"Tell me now or I'm gonna get /pissed/," he hisses, digging his fingers into the pillow. He /hates/ being left in the dark like this.
Another moment of silence and then--
"Fine," Kouyou says, giving in. He can hear her
getting comfortable on the other side of the line. "It didn't /start/ like this, this is just where I... ended up. I joined when I was sixteen, just like every other rebellious teenager. It was /fun/ and dangerous and scary-- but I always planned to get out some day, you know?
I always thought I would /leave/ some day, and go on to have a regular life. Go to college, like you did. It was just supposed to be a temporary lapse, which is one of the reasons I never told anyone. And then... I met someone."
"Oda?" Chuuya asks. They've been together for five
"Oda?" Chuuya asks. They've been together for five
years that he /knows/ of-- he wouldn't be surprised if /that/ was a lie too-- so that would be around the right timeframe.
"No, actually," his sister replies, voice turning wistful. "I met Yosano first. She was in charge at the time, and she just had this...aura about her. I
"No, actually," his sister replies, voice turning wistful. "I met Yosano first. She was in charge at the time, and she just had this...aura about her. I
can't explain it, but there was just something so /fascinating/ and compelling about her. She was /fierce/ and strong and /capable/-- and when she offered to take me under her wing, I couldn't say no."
Chuuya snorts. He remembers feeling something /similar/ when he had a crush
Chuuya snorts. He remembers feeling something /similar/ when he had a crush
on an upperclassman at his high school. "So she was your bi awakening?"
That draws a laugh out of Kouyou. "Yeah, you could say that. Anyways, she taught me a lot. She introduced me to Oda, gave me responsibilities,made me feel things I've never felt before and showed me just how
That draws a laugh out of Kouyou. "Yeah, you could say that. Anyways, she taught me a lot. She introduced me to Oda, gave me responsibilities,made me feel things I've never felt before and showed me just how
much of the world I was missing. I didn't tell anyone because I was afraid it was going to be taken away from me, or that I was going to face serious consequences about it. You know how Dad is-- if he knew I was committing crimes, he'd call the police on me just as quickly as
anyone else."
/That/ is true. Dad is a /stickler/ for the rules and for the law. He's always /insisted/ that all his children follow /all/ the rules to the /letter/, and he never has any sympathy for when they /do/ break them, whether it was an accident or not.
If he knew that
/That/ is true. Dad is a /stickler/ for the rules and for the law. He's always /insisted/ that all his children follow /all/ the rules to the /letter/, and he never has any sympathy for when they /do/ break them, whether it was an accident or not.
If he knew that
his daughter was part of the Mafia, he would /absolutely/ call the police. Even if it meant life in jail for Kouyou.
"You were young then, and you had a habit of /tattling/."
Chuuya cringes at the mention of his /narc/ phase. He was a kid, and it's understandable, but it's
"You were young then, and you had a habit of /tattling/."
Chuuya cringes at the mention of his /narc/ phase. He was a kid, and it's understandable, but it's
/embarrassing/ to remember that he used to tell on /everyone/. He was the /teachers pet/, for gods sake, and if he even /thought/ he saw something wrong, he would go scampering off to tell.
Luckily he grew out of that /quickly/ when he realized no one wanted to be /friends/ with
Luckily he grew out of that /quickly/ when he realized no one wanted to be /friends/ with
him when he was a little /snitch/.
“By the time you were old enough to know and to /understand/, I had just gotten used to keeping my secret. It wasn’t that I didn’t /want/ to tell you, I just didn’t want your opinion of me to /change/. I was scared of what would happen and what
“By the time you were old enough to know and to /understand/, I had just gotten used to keeping my secret. It wasn’t that I didn’t /want/ to tell you, I just didn’t want your opinion of me to /change/. I was scared of what would happen and what
you would /do/. I didn’t want you to become like me.”
That makes Chuuya’s eyebrows shoot up in /disbelief/. “Why? You think I couldn’t /handle/ it or something?”
Unfortunately, due to his young childhood upbringing, he’s always suffered a /complex/ about his strength. There’s
That makes Chuuya’s eyebrows shoot up in /disbelief/. “Why? You think I couldn’t /handle/ it or something?”
Unfortunately, due to his young childhood upbringing, he’s always suffered a /complex/ about his strength. There’s
always been a part of him that is /terrified/ of being perceived as weak or helpless, a part that usually drives him to do stupid shit just to prove he can /handle/ it—
Like refusing to go to a hospital even when he /should/, for example.
“No!” Kouyou says, sounding /l
Like refusing to go to a hospital even when he /should/, for example.
“No!” Kouyou says, sounding /l
/appalled/. “I just didn’t want you in this life because it’s /dangerous/. You’re still my little brother and I just want to protect you.”
Ignoring the part about joining the mafia—which he’s /conflicted/ about, because part of him almost /wants/ to, now that he has so many ties
Ignoring the part about joining the mafia—which he’s /conflicted/ about, because part of him almost /wants/ to, now that he has so many ties
to the Mafia and there’s /no/ other direction his life is taking in the foreseeable future, he gets straight to the /point/. “But you /didn’t/ protect me. You left me in the dark for /years/ and while that might’ve worked when I was still a kid at home, there’s no way you
/actually/ thought that would work /forever/. It’s a miracle I even made it through orientation week without getting kidnapped!”
Chuuya doesn’t have to be there physically to see how she practically rolls her eyes.
“Everything was going /great/ until Dazai showed up. I had
Chuuya doesn’t have to be there physically to see how she practically rolls her eyes.
“Everything was going /great/ until Dazai showed up. I had
everything under /control/. I was planning on letting you take your first year of college and then /slowly/ tell you."
"Was it?" Chuuya asks mockingly, seething with hurt and anger and /disbelief/. Getting Kouyou to /admit/ to her faults is hard-- in her mind, there's always an
"Was it?" Chuuya asks mockingly, seething with hurt and anger and /disbelief/. Getting Kouyou to /admit/ to her faults is hard-- in her mind, there's always an
/excuse/, always a reason /why/. "Was it /under control/? Because-- do you /know/ who my roommate was? /Nikolai Gogol/. Do you /know/ who they asked me questions about?/You/."
Silence.
Yeah, he fucking /thought/ so.
She pipes up again. "I had your entire background wiped, they
Silence.
Yeah, he fucking /thought/ so.
She pipes up again. "I had your entire background wiped, they
had no /reason/ to look into you until Dazai started showing interest in you. I was /careful/, and no one knew you were my brother until he came and messed everything up--"
"Will you /stop/ blaming him? He has his own faults, but /you/ left me in the dark for /years/. I couldn't
"Will you /stop/ blaming him? He has his own faults, but /you/ left me in the dark for /years/. I couldn't
defend myself because I didn't know I /should/ be defending myself. I didn't know I was supposed to be watching out for /criminals/ that know my sister!"
In a weird way, Chuuya actually /is/ grateful that Kouyou never told him about her job. Because if she /had/--
It's likely
In a weird way, Chuuya actually /is/ grateful that Kouyou never told him about her job. Because if she /had/--
It's likely
he wouldn't have met Dazai. Or at /least/ not had the same relationship he does with him now, because it's /clear/ that they don't get along.
"I /know/, and I'm /sorry/ you got hurt, but I never /meant/ for that to happen. I know I should've told you but there was never a good
"I /know/, and I'm /sorry/ you got hurt, but I never /meant/ for that to happen. I know I should've told you but there was never a good
/time/ and I couldn't figure out how to /do/ it. It was safer for you /not/ to be involved with me, I swear. Fyodor never even knew you /existed/ until Dazai pissed him off, and /that's/ when he started to hurt you. I was just trying to keep you /safe/."
"Yeah," Chuuya mutters,
"Yeah," Chuuya mutters,
suddenly feeling absolutely /done/ with this conversation. "That worked out well for you, didn't it?"
"It /did/," she insists, running on blind stubbornness, "You were /literally/ perfectly fine until you started dating Dazai. I've been in the Mafia for /eight/ years now and no
"It /did/," she insists, running on blind stubbornness, "You were /literally/ perfectly fine until you started dating Dazai. I've been in the Mafia for /eight/ years now and no
one ever hurt you until /now/. This is /exactly/ why I didn't want you involved. You shouldn't be dating a man like /that/--"
Chuuya pounces on that, protective instincts rising. "A man like /what/? A man like /you/? Because last I checked, you two are /eeriely/ similar. You
Chuuya pounces on that, protective instincts rising. "A man like /what/? A man like /you/? Because last I checked, you two are /eeriely/ similar. You
both lied to me by omission, you both /failed/ to keep me safe, and you’re both hiding the fact that you’re /murderers/.”
Kouyou makes a /noise/, like that hurt.
Good. /Fuck/ her. She’s his sister and he loves her and he would do anything for her, even still—
But sometimes
Kouyou makes a /noise/, like that hurt.
Good. /Fuck/ her. She’s his sister and he loves her and he would do anything for her, even still—
But sometimes
he could fucking /strangle her/.
Why can’t she see that the only reason he happened to stay out of trouble was /luck/? Maybe she made a deal with her gang friends to keep him safe or whatever, but that was never a /permanent/ solution.
She was so wrapped up in keeping herself
Why can’t she see that the only reason he happened to stay out of trouble was /luck/? Maybe she made a deal with her gang friends to keep him safe or whatever, but that was never a /permanent/ solution.
She was so wrapped up in keeping herself
out of jail, keeping their relationship /steady/ that she forgot that he had a /right/ to know because it put him in danger.
(Neither of them are thinking /rationally/. Chuuya is still reeling with emotions and recovery, and Kouyou is drowning in guilt and struggling to pick up
(Neither of them are thinking /rationally/. Chuuya is still reeling with emotions and recovery, and Kouyou is drowning in guilt and struggling to pick up
the pieces of what happened.
The best— and worst— thing about siblings is that they /fight/. For better or for worse, their stresses are always best taken out on each other. It gets better as they grow older, but—
Siblings fight, viciously so, especially when they’re /scared/
The best— and worst— thing about siblings is that they /fight/. For better or for worse, their stresses are always best taken out on each other. It gets better as they grow older, but—
Siblings fight, viciously so, especially when they’re /scared/
and confused.
But they will /always/ find their way back to each other.)
“The only difference that /I/ see is that /you/ chose to be in the Mafia and /he/ didn’t— which makes him a /better/ person than you, in the end,” Chuuya finishes with a hiss, yanking the phone away from
But they will /always/ find their way back to each other.)
“The only difference that /I/ see is that /you/ chose to be in the Mafia and /he/ didn’t— which makes him a /better/ person than you, in the end,” Chuuya finishes with a hiss, yanking the phone away from
his ear and smashing the end call button.
He ignores the immediate call back in favor of burying his face into the pillow and screaming out his frustrations.
Sometimes, family is the most frustrating thing in the /entire/ world. They're a /pain/ to deal with, they hurt him,
He ignores the immediate call back in favor of burying his face into the pillow and screaming out his frustrations.
Sometimes, family is the most frustrating thing in the /entire/ world. They're a /pain/ to deal with, they hurt him,
they /smother/ him, they try to tell him what to /do/, they piss him off, they make him /sad/.
But that's still his /family/. That's still his sister, and he'll forgive her some day.
Just not today.
Today, he's /angry/.
----- +
The next two weeks is...surprisingly easy.
But that's still his /family/. That's still his sister, and he'll forgive her some day.
Just not today.
Today, he's /angry/.
----- +
The next two weeks is...surprisingly easy.
Trauma has a way of freezing time. Of breaking something off of you and /freezing/ that part into an endless nightmare, refusing to let go of it.
Part of him will always be stuck in that dark, muggy room with a bag tied over his head. Part of him will /always/ have nightmares
Part of him will always be stuck in that dark, muggy room with a bag tied over his head. Part of him will /always/ have nightmares
and will always be aware of how much water can /hurt/.
But the rest of him.. those parts get to move on. Get to continue living his life.
He feels better by the day. The physical soreness disappears after another two days. His /headaches/ slowly get less and less painful as the
But the rest of him.. those parts get to move on. Get to continue living his life.
He feels better by the day. The physical soreness disappears after another two days. His /headaches/ slowly get less and less painful as the
days go by, until one day he just wakes up and doesn't have a headache for the entire day.
He's able to get off his seizure meds again, something he's grateful for. The other meds-- the anti-viral-- he still takes religiously, and it feels like they're /working/.
His energy
He's able to get off his seizure meds again, something he's grateful for. The other meds-- the anti-viral-- he still takes religiously, and it feels like they're /working/.
His energy
has slowly returned. It's not the /same/ as when he started college, but it's a little bit better than when he was kidnapped. Every day, he needs a nap in the middle of the day less and less.
His appetite returns, even if slightly less. He's able to /drink/ water without feeling
His appetite returns, even if slightly less. He's able to /drink/ water without feeling
like he's about to /die/.
His /biggest/ achievement, he thinks, is that after almost two weeks, he's able to take a shower by himself again. It's slow-going and he has to be /careful/ not to push himself too hard, but the first time he's able to get into the shower without
His /biggest/ achievement, he thinks, is that after almost two weeks, he's able to take a shower by himself again. It's slow-going and he has to be /careful/ not to push himself too hard, but the first time he's able to get into the shower without
Dazai being there.
Speaking of Dazai, their relationship has been on a...
A break, some might call it. They haven't actually /talked/ about it, because Chuuya isn't ready to talk about the break up yet. It still /hurts/ and there's already so much on his plate that he feels
Speaking of Dazai, their relationship has been on a...
A break, some might call it. They haven't actually /talked/ about it, because Chuuya isn't ready to talk about the break up yet. It still /hurts/ and there's already so much on his plate that he feels
like he might shatter like glass if he takes on anything more.
They do talk about other things though. Dazai's past, his current work, his relationship with the criminal underground. Chuuya's family, his childhood, how Dazai can help him feel better. Stuff like that interspersed
They do talk about other things though. Dazai's past, his current work, his relationship with the criminal underground. Chuuya's family, his childhood, how Dazai can help him feel better. Stuff like that interspersed
between talks about dinner, the show they're watching, talks about taking Baki to the /vet/ for his shots.
Domestic stuff. Normal stuff.
Dazai doesn't /push/ him, but he's open in a way that he never was before. He answers every question Chuuya has without hesitation and offers
Domestic stuff. Normal stuff.
Dazai doesn't /push/ him, but he's open in a way that he never was before. He answers every question Chuuya has without hesitation and offers
up pieces of his life story like little treasures.
Chuuya never realized how /much/ Dazai was hiding until that veil of secrecy was ripped away. He’s still the same /person/, but he has more depth now, like he’s sharing his /soul/.
It’s what Chuuya deserves but it’s more
Chuuya never realized how /much/ Dazai was hiding until that veil of secrecy was ripped away. He’s still the same /person/, but he has more depth now, like he’s sharing his /soul/.
It’s what Chuuya deserves but it’s more
than he /expected/, and it just—
It leaves him torn in a state of /frustration/— because he should’ve gotten this Dazai in the /beginning/, he should’ve been like this the entire time— and also /awe/ because—
The more he learns about him, the more he /feels/ for him. Not just
It leaves him torn in a state of /frustration/— because he should’ve gotten this Dazai in the /beginning/, he should’ve been like this the entire time— and also /awe/ because—
The more he learns about him, the more he /feels/ for him. Not just
love— which is /growing/ in his chest again, Chuuya can’t deny that— but also /sympathy/ and anger on his behalf and /pride/ that he came so far on his own.
Dazai Osamu is an enigma that is opened to his eyes /only/ and it feels like he could spend his entire life putting him
Dazai Osamu is an enigma that is opened to his eyes /only/ and it feels like he could spend his entire life putting him
together. Putting all the details into place, building /stories/ from him and with him.
Their relationship is /slightly/ strained and not on the same level as before— they don’t /kiss/ because Chuuya hasn’t indicated he wants that again, they don’t /fuck/. They’re tiptoeing
Their relationship is /slightly/ strained and not on the same level as before— they don’t /kiss/ because Chuuya hasn’t indicated he wants that again, they don’t /fuck/. They’re tiptoeing
around what they had before, Dazai waiting /patiently/ for Chuuya to make up his mind.
They still sleep together, most nights. Shower together too, because it’s /harder/ for Chuuya to shower now, especially by himself. Eat together, take the dogs on walks together.
It’s
They still sleep together, most nights. Shower together too, because it’s /harder/ for Chuuya to shower now, especially by himself. Eat together, take the dogs on walks together.
It’s
not /all/ perfect, of course—
Chuuya’s /angry/ a lot of the time now. Sometimes when he wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare or when he’s struck with the realization that he /can’t/ take a bath now, and he’ll just—
He’ll get so fucking /angry/ about what
Chuuya’s /angry/ a lot of the time now. Sometimes when he wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare or when he’s struck with the realization that he /can’t/ take a bath now, and he’ll just—
He’ll get so fucking /angry/ about what
happened that he just wants to /destroy/ something, wants to /hurt/ someone just to get a handle on his /own/ pain, wants to scratch and bite and /rip/—
Dazai ends up hanging a punching bag in Shuuji’s old room, and some days Chuuya would just beat the /shit/ out of it until he
Dazai ends up hanging a punching bag in Shuuji’s old room, and some days Chuuya would just beat the /shit/ out of it until he
tires himself out.
The hardest thing to wrap his head around is the fact that recovery is a /process/. It’s not linear, it’s not /steady/.
Some days he feels like he’s /leaped/ forward in terms of progress, and other days it feels like he’s taken three steps backward. Some days
The hardest thing to wrap his head around is the fact that recovery is a /process/. It’s not linear, it’s not /steady/.
Some days he feels like he’s /leaped/ forward in terms of progress, and other days it feels like he’s taken three steps backward. Some days
he’s able to pretend that nothing ever happened at all.
Other days, it’s like he’ll never be able to move /past/ it. He’ll never be /normal/ again, he’ll always be this warped, damaged version of himself.
It all comes to a head on the day of his neurology check-up with Gide.
Other days, it’s like he’ll never be able to move /past/ it. He’ll never be /normal/ again, he’ll always be this warped, damaged version of himself.
It all comes to a head on the day of his neurology check-up with Gide.
It’s six weeks after his diagnosis, a wellness check to see how well he’s responding to rhe medication and how well he’s recovering. If anything needs to be adjusted, it’ll be in this appointment.
It’s also, secretly in Chuuya’s mind, a measure on if he’s ever going to be
It’s also, secretly in Chuuya’s mind, a measure on if he’s ever going to be
/normal/ again. If there’s even a /point/ to trying to move on, a point to trying to have a live when his body is too sickness-prone and too /weak/.
Honestly, he’s not expecting good news. His recovery times have always been abysmally long, and he’s not expecting anything
Honestly, he’s not expecting good news. His recovery times have always been abysmally long, and he’s not expecting anything
différent with this encounter.
He’s /fully/ expecting to go home with another regimen of recovery instructions, probably new meds. Maybe a referral to a specialist, or told to come back again in another thirty days so they can try again.
It creates this /depression/ in him
He’s /fully/ expecting to go home with another regimen of recovery instructions, probably new meds. Maybe a referral to a specialist, or told to come back again in another thirty days so they can try again.
It creates this /depression/ in him
before he goes, one that isn’t helped by the fact that he asked Dazai to wait in the lobby.
If he’s going to get bad news, he wants some time to process it /alone/ first before he has to reveal to Dazai that he’s going to be an /invalid/ for the foreseeable future.
Gide runs
If he’s going to get bad news, he wants some time to process it /alone/ first before he has to reveal to Dazai that he’s going to be an /invalid/ for the foreseeable future.
Gide runs
him through a battery of tests. All his vitals, his weight, how he’s been /feeling/. Asks him before he has any concerns before sending him up to get an MRI.
Getting the images back is the longest part of the appointment, almost an hour in itself. It’s the quickest Chuuya’s ever
Getting the images back is the longest part of the appointment, almost an hour in itself. It’s the quickest Chuuya’s ever
gotten tests back— perks of Dazai’s ridiculous insurance policy— but still long enough that he is forced to twiddle his thumbs and stare at the wall for a horribly long time.
Eventually, Gide comes back, brown folder in hand. Chuuya perks up when he sees him because—
Hé
Eventually, Gide comes back, brown folder in hand. Chuuya perks up when he sees him because—
Hé
doesn’t /look/ like he has bad news.
In fact, he almost looks like he has /good/ news. Happy, in a subtle and professional way.
He gets right to the chase. “Well, Chuuya, I’m happy to say you have recovered remarkably well. There is still some swelling, but nothing that U would
In fact, he almost looks like he has /good/ news. Happy, in a subtle and professional way.
He gets right to the chase. “Well, Chuuya, I’m happy to say you have recovered remarkably well. There is still some swelling, but nothing that U would
consider dangerous. I’m going to prescribe you another thirty days of the anti-virals, and I do recommend that you keep taking anti-inflammatories whenever you think you need them— but otherwise, I’m happy to say that you can slowly go back to your normal life now.”
Chuuya’s
Chuuya’s
breath stalls out.
He’s /okay/? Even with everything that happened to him, even with the /hours/ of literal torture that deprived oxygen to his brain, he’s /okay/?
He’s not going to be stuck in this /endless/ cycle of fighting for every second of recovery? He can go back to
He’s /okay/? Even with everything that happened to him, even with the /hours/ of literal torture that deprived oxygen to his brain, he’s /okay/?
He’s not going to be stuck in this /endless/ cycle of fighting for every second of recovery? He can go back to
/collège/ next semester?
“Now, this is /not/ an invitation to be reckless,” Gide says, pinning him with a stern look. “You need to continue your self-care routines and look after yourself. I want to see you again in ninety days for a final follow up. Lots of rest and care are
“Now, this is /not/ an invitation to be reckless,” Gide says, pinning him with a stern look. “You need to continue your self-care routines and look after yourself. I want to see you again in ninety days for a final follow up. Lots of rest and care are
still imperative, but you can slowly go back to your normal routines as you continue to feel better.”
“Oh,” Chuuya says dumbly, feeling so /relieved/ that he doesn’t really have words for it. /Floored/ too, because he was /so/ worried that the water boarding set him /back/ in
“Oh,” Chuuya says dumbly, feeling so /relieved/ that he doesn’t really have words for it. /Floored/ too, because he was /so/ worried that the water boarding set him /back/ in
his recovery. Possibly made it so he could /never/ recover, and that he would always have to deal with the problems caused by something he had no choice or control over.
Like he would /forever/ be working with such low-energy that he had to take a minimum of one nap a day, he
Like he would /forever/ be working with such low-energy that he had to take a minimum of one nap a day, he
would /always/ suffer from chronic headaches, he would /never/ be able to go back to school or work, he would never have what he envisioned as a /normal/ life.
It was depressing to think about but--
Now he has /proof/ that life does go on, life /does/ get better and--
He has
It was depressing to think about but--
Now he has /proof/ that life does go on, life /does/ get better and--
He has
to live his life now. He has to /choose/ his life.
But he already /did/,and now he has to choose it /again/.
The rest of the appointment is a blur. Gide doesn't hold him much longer,and releases him with another prescription for the anti-viral.
The hallways are quietly sterile
But he already /did/,and now he has to choose it /again/.
The rest of the appointment is a blur. Gide doesn't hold him much longer,and releases him with another prescription for the anti-viral.
The hallways are quietly sterile
and empty as he makes his way back to the lobby, paper clutched in hand.
Dazai is waiting for him in the lobby, perking up as /soon/ as the door opens. He stands up to meet him halfway, and /god/, the sight of him makes Chuuya's heart swell in his chest.
"Good news," he tells
Dazai is waiting for him in the lobby, perking up as /soon/ as the door opens. He stands up to meet him halfway, and /god/, the sight of him makes Chuuya's heart swell in his chest.
"Good news," he tells
him before he can even ask because he can /see/ the worry on his face. "I have another prescription and an appointment in ninety days, but other than that... I got better."
The relief is evident in Dazai's exhale. He doesn't reach out to touch him-- he's been /hesitant/ with
The relief is evident in Dazai's exhale. He doesn't reach out to touch him-- he's been /hesitant/ with
physical touch in a way that he never has been before, something that Chuuya /appreciates/ because it means he's trying to respect unseen boundaries but also /mourns/ because he /wants/ to be touched by Dazai--but the tension melts off his expression.
"That's good," he breathes,
"That's good," he breathes,
sounding /so/ relieved. "That's /really/ good."
It is. In more ways than one, because now Chuuya feels like there's /progress/. He has /motivation/ now.
The ride home is surprisingly quiet, filled mostly with music. Dazai offers to pick up his prescription later that week and
It is. In more ways than one, because now Chuuya feels like there's /progress/. He has /motivation/ now.
The ride home is surprisingly quiet, filled mostly with music. Dazai offers to pick up his prescription later that week and
they pick up food to celebrate his good news.
They eat in comfortable silence, before Chuuya heads up to shower alone.
It's still a /process/ for him, and his face hasn't had a /thorough/ scrubbing yet, but he manages to clean all of himself. It just takes patience and
They eat in comfortable silence, before Chuuya heads up to shower alone.
It's still a /process/ for him, and his face hasn't had a /thorough/ scrubbing yet, but he manages to clean all of himself. It just takes patience and
persistence, something that Chuuya is /learning/.
But it's worth it to get out, fresh and clean and wrapped in a warm towel, and feel /almost/ normal again.
His sleeping clothes are stacked near the sink and he pulls them on before doing his nightly care routine. The sight of
But it's worth it to get out, fresh and clean and wrapped in a warm towel, and feel /almost/ normal again.
His sleeping clothes are stacked near the sink and he pulls them on before doing his nightly care routine. The sight of
his products lined up next to Dazai's makes his heart skip a beat in his chest.
When he's finished, he takes a deep breath for courage and exits.
Dazai is on the bed, propped up against the headboard and reading some book. Chuuya has to stop in the doorway and just.. /stare/ at
When he's finished, he takes a deep breath for courage and exits.
Dazai is on the bed, propped up against the headboard and reading some book. Chuuya has to stop in the doorway and just.. /stare/ at
him. Just take him in because—
There’s a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, softening the sharper angles of his face into this /welcoming/ vision of domesticity. The book he’s reading is some game theory book, one that’s probably too /complicated/ for Chuuya to read
There’s a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, softening the sharper angles of his face into this /welcoming/ vision of domesticity. The book he’s reading is some game theory book, one that’s probably too /complicated/ for Chuuya to read
unless he was willing to put the time in to actually study it. He’s wearing some comfortable sweater and a pair of jogging sweats, hair messy, and he just —
He looks like /home/.
— this is the man he /loves/. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. So /fiercely/ that he can’t believe he
He looks like /home/.
— this is the man he /loves/. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. So /fiercely/ that he can’t believe he
ever believed he was going to give him up. That’s his /life/ right there, on that bed.
The first step he takes forward feels like the first /active/ choice he makes in choosing his life. How he ended up here was just happenstance, just coincidence, something he didn’t /know/ he
The first step he takes forward feels like the first /active/ choice he makes in choosing his life. How he ended up here was just happenstance, just coincidence, something he didn’t /know/ he
was getting into.
Dazai chose /him/ and now—
Chuuya’s choosing him /back/.
Brown eyes, heart-achingly beautiful behind the glasses, look up at him when Chuuya crawls onto the bed. They have so much /depth/, it’s like he could look into them /forever/ and always find another
Dazai chose /him/ and now—
Chuuya’s choosing him /back/.
Brown eyes, heart-achingly beautiful behind the glasses, look up at him when Chuuya crawls onto the bed. They have so much /depth/, it’s like he could look into them /forever/ and always find another
spot of gold, another reason to love him.
The book gets tossed to the side when Chuuya settles in his lap. It’s one of the few times he’s /taller/ than Dazai, and it never fails to make him feel /powerful/ in ways that don’t have to do with strength or skill.
“We should talk.”
The book gets tossed to the side when Chuuya settles in his lap. It’s one of the few times he’s /taller/ than Dazai, and it never fails to make him feel /powerful/ in ways that don’t have to do with strength or skill.
“We should talk.”
The spark of anxiety in Dazai’s eyes is /visible/. His hands find his thighs, fingers digging lightly into him like he’s afraid he’s going to slip away. Like he’s afraid he’s going to /lose/ Chuuya.
“Okay,” he murmurs, staring up at him with a certain desperation, eyes flirting
“Okay,” he murmurs, staring up at him with a certain desperation, eyes flirting
over his features like he’s trying to /memorize/ them. “What about?”
(Just like Chuuya was earlier, he’s expecting bad news. He’s expecting the /end/.)
Thoughtful, trying to put all his emotions into coherent sentences, Chuuya let’s his hands coast up Dazai’s front. Presses his
(Just like Chuuya was earlier, he’s expecting bad news. He’s expecting the /end/.)
Thoughtful, trying to put all his emotions into coherent sentences, Chuuya let’s his hands coast up Dazai’s front. Presses his
palms to the planes of his chest, reveling in the feeling of hot, firm muscle under his hands. Drags them up over his chest and his shoulders, to finally end up with the tips of his fingers playing with the ends of Dazai’s hair.
It’s the first time he’s /really/ touched him
It’s the first time he’s /really/ touched him
with the intent of pure, simple enjoyment since he was rescued.
Taking a deep breath, Chuuya begins the speech he was practicing on the entire drive home:
“I’m sorry.”
It’s /not/ what Dazai was expecting, clearly. His eyes go wide with shock before blinking at him dumbly.
Taking a deep breath, Chuuya begins the speech he was practicing on the entire drive home:
“I’m sorry.”
It’s /not/ what Dazai was expecting, clearly. His eyes go wide with shock before blinking at him dumbly.
Then his mouth opens. “You don’t have to—“
Chuuya cuts him off, tugging lightly on his hair at the same time he shakes his head. “I do,” he insists, giving him a shaky smile, “because I deserve an apology from /you/. But I hurt you too, and it’s not fair for me to get an apology
Chuuya cuts him off, tugging lightly on his hair at the same time he shakes his head. “I do,” he insists, giving him a shaky smile, “because I deserve an apology from /you/. But I hurt you too, and it’s not fair for me to get an apology
from you without doing the same.”
He still looks hesitant. Not arguing /yet/ but clearly on the verge of doing so.
Dazai probably thinks he doesn’t deserve an apology. He’s never expressed a need or desire for one, and he’s never even outwardly expressed being angry with
He still looks hesitant. Not arguing /yet/ but clearly on the verge of doing so.
Dazai probably thinks he doesn’t deserve an apology. He’s never expressed a need or desire for one, and he’s never even outwardly expressed being angry with
Chuuya over their fight but—
Over the last two weeks, he’s done a /lot/ of thinking. The first few days were full of anger and frustration and /pain/, wanting to believe he never did /anything/ wrong.
Then he listened to the voicemail again and again, a dozen times over, and
Over the last two weeks, he’s done a /lot/ of thinking. The first few days were full of anger and frustration and /pain/, wanting to believe he never did /anything/ wrong.
Then he listened to the voicemail again and again, a dozen times over, and
he eventually came to the conclusion that, while he /absolutely/ has the right to be angry and hurt with Dazai—
He hurt Dazai too, and he loves him enough to put aside his pride and his own hurt feelings long enough to address that.
“So what we’re gonna do is… I’m going to
He hurt Dazai too, and he loves him enough to put aside his pride and his own hurt feelings long enough to address that.
“So what we’re gonna do is… I’m going to
apologize to you. You’re going to apologize to /me/. And then we’re going to talk. Sounds good?”
The hands on his thighs firm, Dazai finally daring to take a /real/ hold on him, to touch him properly without any hesitation insecurity. His thumbs rub over the insides of his
The hands on his thighs firm, Dazai finally daring to take a /real/ hold on him, to touch him properly without any hesitation insecurity. His thumbs rub over the insides of his
thighs, pushing up the shorts he’s wearing coincidentally.
“Okay,” he agrees, voice going soft and reverential, an homage to the quietly intense moment beginning to grow between them.
Dazai’s hair is soft and vibrant under his fingers, something he draws courage from. “I’m
“Okay,” he agrees, voice going soft and reverential, an homage to the quietly intense moment beginning to grow between them.
Dazai’s hair is soft and vibrant under his fingers, something he draws courage from. “I’m
sorry,” he repeats, filling his voice with as much meaning as he can because—
He /is/ sorry.
“I shouldn’t have gone behind your back to get information on you. You did say you were going to tell me but you weren’t ready yet. I should’ve respected that boundary. I /also/
He /is/ sorry.
“I shouldn’t have gone behind your back to get information on you. You did say you were going to tell me but you weren’t ready yet. I should’ve respected that boundary. I /also/
shouldn’t have brought it up like that, or taken a virtual strangers word over your own. You’ve never /tried/ to hurt me, so I shouldn’t have believed Fyodor when he said you would. You deserved more respect than that.”
He makes eye contact, /showing/ how apologetic he is—
He makes eye contact, /showing/ how apologetic he is—
Only to find bottomless, unconditional /forgiveness/ already shining back at him, a sight that knocks him /breathless/.
“I forgive you,” Dazai tells him without hesitation, without having to think about it,without /contemplating/. Just pure, effortless, /easy/ forgiveness. Hands
“I forgive you,” Dazai tells him without hesitation, without having to think about it,without /contemplating/. Just pure, effortless, /easy/ forgiveness. Hands
coasting up his thighs, curving over his hips to come around to his back, hugging him close.
It feels /wrong/ that it’s this easy.
But that’s part of being in a relationship. Some things—a lot of things— are /hard/, and other things…
You just learn to /forgive/.
Dazai
It feels /wrong/ that it’s this easy.
But that’s part of being in a relationship. Some things—a lot of things— are /hard/, and other things…
You just learn to /forgive/.
Dazai
cuts in before he can say anything else. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve /told/ you about my past. It’s scary and uncomfortable to talk about it, but you /deserved/ to know who you were getting involved with. I promised myself I would always protect you, and I failed. I can never
make up for that and I can never make that go /away/-- but I would make sure that /never/ happened to you again, and I would spend my /life/ making it up to you. I would give you /everything/ of me."
That's--
That's all Chuuya /wants/. That's all he /needs/.
There's just one
That's--
That's all Chuuya /wants/. That's all he /needs/.
There's just one
thing he has left to get off his chest before he can be /happy/ again. Before he can /fully/ move past this.
"I don't want you to hunt down Nika or Fyodor for what they did to me. I want you to just leave them alone."
Dazai goes still, eyes hardening. His gaze roams over his
"I don't want you to hunt down Nika or Fyodor for what they did to me. I want you to just leave them alone."
Dazai goes still, eyes hardening. His gaze roams over his
face, evaluating his expression. Evaluating how /serious/ he is.
Chuuya isn't /stupid/. He knows how protective Dazai is, and it would be foolish to believe that he /isn't/ planning on getting revenge on him.
Kouyou's probably doing the same, but he can handle her.
Dazai is a
Chuuya isn't /stupid/. He knows how protective Dazai is, and it would be foolish to believe that he /isn't/ planning on getting revenge on him.
Kouyou's probably doing the same, but he can handle her.
Dazai is a
whole different beast.
"I want you to /promise/ me to leave them alone about this."
A big part of Chuuya does want revenge. If that were an /option/, if it came without consequences, he would absolutely indulge that sick part of himself.
But it does have consequences. Nika
"I want you to /promise/ me to leave them alone about this."
A big part of Chuuya does want revenge. If that were an /option/, if it came without consequences, he would absolutely indulge that sick part of himself.
But it does have consequences. Nika
/showed/ him there would be consequences.
A war would break out. People would get hurt-- innocent people, but also /his/ people. He would be a /target/ again. It would be bloody and horrible, and maybe--
Maybe this time /he/ wouldn't be physically hurt. Maybe this time he
A war would break out. People would get hurt-- innocent people, but also /his/ people. He would be a /target/ again. It would be bloody and horrible, and maybe--
Maybe this time /he/ wouldn't be physically hurt. Maybe this time he
would lose his /sister/ or his father, or /Dazai/.
He's okay with the only victim being himself. He can make /peace/ with that, he can pull the blanket over his own nightmares and skeletons, he can /stare/ in the face of his fear and learn to /cope/.
But he can't lose Dazai. He
He's okay with the only victim being himself. He can make /peace/ with that, he can pull the blanket over his own nightmares and skeletons, he can /stare/ in the face of his fear and learn to /cope/.
But he can't lose Dazai. He
can't be a /widower/ or a single child.
He can be a victim. That's /fine/, as long as he's the only one.
"Chuuya..." Dazai says, low, like he's fighting the urge to /argue/ with him. His expression is /clearly/ disapproving, every line of his body slowly gathering tension.
He can be a victim. That's /fine/, as long as he's the only one.
"Chuuya..." Dazai says, low, like he's fighting the urge to /argue/ with him. His expression is /clearly/ disapproving, every line of his body slowly gathering tension.
Chuuya shakes his head, tightening his fingers in his hair. “No. You aren’t taking /my/ trauma and acting out a revenge plan. I don’t want you to do it.”
“She /deserves/ it,” he insists, staring up at him imploringly. His eyes are hard, even if the hands on his hips are
“She /deserves/ it,” he insists, staring up at him imploringly. His eyes are hard, even if the hands on his hips are
exceedingly gentle.
Chuuya would /agree/ with that statement. She probably /does/ deserve it, but—
“It’s not about what she deserves. It’s about what I’m not willing to lose. It’s about what /i’m/ not willing to risk. It’s about what I want.”
That seems to be something that
Chuuya would /agree/ with that statement. She probably /does/ deserve it, but—
“It’s not about what she deserves. It’s about what I’m not willing to lose. It’s about what /i’m/ not willing to risk. It’s about what I want.”
That seems to be something that
he can’t argue with. After a moment, Dazai deflates visibly.
“Okay,” he agrees quietly, pressing his fingers into the small of his back like he’s savoring the shape of him. “I won’t.”
Chuuya gives him a grateful smile, hands climbing higher into his hair. The undercut has
“Okay,” he agrees quietly, pressing his fingers into the small of his back like he’s savoring the shape of him. “I won’t.”
Chuuya gives him a grateful smile, hands climbing higher into his hair. The undercut has
fully grown out by now, soft and fuzzy. He shivers when Chuuya runs his nails through it, lips parting on a breath.
Now that they’ve /talked/—at least a little bit—it’s time to give into the swell of emotions in his chest.
Smiling lopsidedly, Chuuya asks, “Can I kiss you?”
Now that they’ve /talked/—at least a little bit—it’s time to give into the swell of emotions in his chest.
Smiling lopsidedly, Chuuya asks, “Can I kiss you?”
The spark in Dazai’s eyes lights into a /flame/, even as heartwarmingly gentle as it is. Like fire that doesn’t /burn/, but warms you to the core.
“You don’t have to ask,” he says, the beloved single dimple making a reappearance. One of his hands is moving, coasting up along his
“You don’t have to ask,” he says, the beloved single dimple making a reappearance. One of his hands is moving, coasting up along his
side. Around to his front, sliding over his chest and up his shoulder.
Long fingers curve around the back of his neck, strong and capable. The feeling of /safety/ and security in the press of the metal charm of the collar still wrapped around Dazai’s wrist.
Chuuya leans in,
Long fingers curve around the back of his neck, strong and capable. The feeling of /safety/ and security in the press of the metal charm of the collar still wrapped around Dazai’s wrist.
Chuuya leans in,
his entire being focused on his /eyes/ and how they seem to /glow/ for him. “Someone very important to me once said that you should /always/ ask to kiss someone.”
The reminder is like the final piece settling into place.
Dazai’s hand firms around his neck, pulling him in at
The reminder is like the final piece settling into place.
Dazai’s hand firms around his neck, pulling him in at
the same time he’s /leaning/, closer, closer, closer—
His breath washes over him first, warm and familiar.
And when the space between them is so minuscule nothing could ever come between them—
“Yes,” Dazai breathes.
Their mouths meet, and it’s like two halves coming home.
His breath washes over him first, warm and familiar.
And when the space between them is so minuscule nothing could ever come between them—
“Yes,” Dazai breathes.
Their mouths meet, and it’s like two halves coming home.
It's like being caught, it's like being /held/. The entire world fading into the background to give way to the opening strains of the symphony arching between them.
Dazai's lips are soft, achingly familiar. Something he's been able to memorize over the last few months and yet he
Dazai's lips are soft, achingly familiar. Something he's been able to memorize over the last few months and yet he
will /never/ get tired of it. He will never get /enough/, will spend the rest of his /life/ needing to touch Dazai like this.
Needing to kiss him, needing to hug him and touch him. Needing to /love/ him, because it's only /here/-- wrapped up in long, strong arms, fingers buried
Needing to kiss him, needing to hug him and touch him. Needing to /love/ him, because it's only /here/-- wrapped up in long, strong arms, fingers buried
in dark, unruly hair, breathing the same air, a warm, sturdy body underneath him, a body that he knows and /adores/-- that he feels /complete/. That he feels /whole/ beyond his own self, a content fulfillment that he can't /describe/.
He can only /revel/ in it, sliding closer
He can only /revel/ in it, sliding closer
until their bodies are pressed together tightly.
Dazai's first exhale against his cheek is /shaky/, and his lips tremble under his own. He's not /moving/, all of that effortless talent and finesse seemingly gone now that Chuuya is kissing him again.
It goes on long enough that
Dazai's first exhale against his cheek is /shaky/, and his lips tremble under his own. He's not /moving/, all of that effortless talent and finesse seemingly gone now that Chuuya is kissing him again.
It goes on long enough that
he tries to pull back, wondering if there's something /wrong/--
Then Dazai is pressing upward, the hand on his thigh sliding upwards to wrap around his back. Fingers press into the back of his neck, thumb pressing against his thrumming pulse, and he /kisses/ him.
Deeply,
Then Dazai is pressing upward, the hand on his thigh sliding upwards to wrap around his back. Fingers press into the back of his neck, thumb pressing against his thrumming pulse, and he /kisses/ him.
Deeply,
/meaningfully/, lips moving against his own.
It’s deeper than any kiss they’ve had before. Not physically but /emotionally/. It’s not a kiss that’s a prelude to other things or a casual show of affection. It’s not like anything they’ve had before.
It’s a confession. It’s
It’s deeper than any kiss they’ve had before. Not physically but /emotionally/. It’s not a kiss that’s a prelude to other things or a casual show of affection. It’s not like anything they’ve had before.
It’s a confession. It’s
revelation, it’s /reassurance/, it’s /everything/.
It doesn’t /cure/ the pain they’ve been through in the last weeks, but with each slide of their lips together, the cutting edge of bad memories is soothed a little more.
Chuuya slides his hands back, cradling Dazai’s jaw in
It doesn’t /cure/ the pain they’ve been through in the last weeks, but with each slide of their lips together, the cutting edge of bad memories is soothed a little more.
Chuuya slides his hands back, cradling Dazai’s jaw in
his palms. The feeling of his jaw moving in his hands, muscles bunching in rhythmic waves, so full of /life/, makes an unnamed emotion swell in his chest that feels almost too big to even breathe around.
This is /his/. He gets to have this, he gets to /keep/ this. He never has
This is /his/. He gets to have this, he gets to /keep/ this. He never has
to let this /go/.
It's common for young people to be unsure of where they'll end up in life. For a long time, Chuuya was like that /too/, his future uncertain and scary. He had an idea of what he wanted to do, where he wanted to end up, but it's still so /unknown/ to him. The
It's common for young people to be unsure of where they'll end up in life. For a long time, Chuuya was like that /too/, his future uncertain and scary. He had an idea of what he wanted to do, where he wanted to end up, but it's still so /unknown/ to him. The
future is /frightening/ when you're still so young.
But not anymore, because he knows he /always/ has a home to come back to. This might not be where he thought he would end up, but this is where he was /meant/ to be. This is his /future/, right here holding him.
He never has
But not anymore, because he knows he /always/ has a home to come back to. This might not be where he thought he would end up, but this is where he was /meant/ to be. This is his /future/, right here holding him.
He never has
to be afraid because this is /home/ now. /His/ home, his meant-to-be home, the home he made and built with someone else.
Neither of them push to deepen the kiss so it sparks into fire-heat lust. They're content to indulge in the /emotional/ high rather than the physical, soaring
Neither of them push to deepen the kiss so it sparks into fire-heat lust. They're content to indulge in the /emotional/ high rather than the physical, soaring
into a warm bubble of /happiness/. It's not about finding satisfaction in eachother's bodies, it's about proving to each other just how /much/ they mean to each other and just how much they missed each other.
And just when Chuuya swears it can't get better, feeling like his very
And just when Chuuya swears it can't get better, feeling like his very
heartbeat is being driven by the rhythm of their kiss, his breath tasting and smelling like Dazai, the rest of the world miniscule and unimportant compared to them--
Dazai pulls away, just slightly, thumb pressing into his neck with just enough force to make him pause in his
Dazai pulls away, just slightly, thumb pressing into his neck with just enough force to make him pause in his
instinctive bid to chase after him because he's not ready to stop yet--
His lips catch against his as Dazai speaks, his voice a reverential murmur, an offering to the only god he would give worship to:
"I love you."
Chuuya's breath catches in his throat, caught behind a lump
His lips catch against his as Dazai speaks, his voice a reverential murmur, an offering to the only god he would give worship to:
"I love you."
Chuuya's breath catches in his throat, caught behind a lump
of emotion.
If their first confessions hurt because of bad timing and bad circumstances--
This one feels like it wipes it /all/ away. Makes it /all/ better again, replaces something that /did/ hurt with something that feels so inexplicably /right/.
His first response is to
If their first confessions hurt because of bad timing and bad circumstances--
This one feels like it wipes it /all/ away. Makes it /all/ better again, replaces something that /did/ hurt with something that feels so inexplicably /right/.
His first response is to
lurch forward, tightening his hands on Dazai's face to drag him into another kiss, this one more /desperate/, needier, more /emotional/, with more depth.
Dazai surges upward to meet him, nearly toppling him off balance. It's only his arm around his back that keeps him upright
Dazai surges upward to meet him, nearly toppling him off balance. It's only his arm around his back that keeps him upright
and pressed close. There's an energy in him that feels /frantic/, a tension that's displayed in how /tightly/ he's holding him and how hard he's pressing into the kiss. Like he doesn't know how to handle himself now that his confession has been /accepted/ and--
This time, it's
This time, it's
Chuuya who breaks the kiss briefly, pulling back a fraction to speak, response to call, like music:
"I love you /too/."
-- and /returned/.
Dazai shudders underneath him, his hand unwrapping from his back and reaching up instead. Both of his hands find his jaw, cradling his
"I love you /too/."
-- and /returned/.
Dazai shudders underneath him, his hand unwrapping from his back and reaching up instead. Both of his hands find his jaw, cradling his
cheeks in his palms and stroking his thumbs over his cheekbones. It's /blindly/ reverential, the next kiss, an offering and a promise all in one.
Chuuya kisses him back as best he can, overwhelmed with the sheer intensity of it all. His hands end up in Dazai's hair, fisted in
Chuuya kisses him back as best he can, overwhelmed with the sheer intensity of it all. His hands end up in Dazai's hair, fisted in
the soft dark strands. It's not so much about holding him in /place/ as much as it is about holding onto him in /every/ way possible.
Their breathing is harsh before the kiss starts to slow down, coming to a natural stop. They don't part, still wrapped up in each other, arms and
Their breathing is harsh before the kiss starts to slow down, coming to a natural stop. They don't part, still wrapped up in each other, arms and
hands hanging on with a desperation that speaks of never wanting to let /go/.
In fact, the only thing that forces them to separate is Baki. Meowing loudly, he pushes between them in an effort to take his /rightful/ place in Chuuya's arms.
They missed their afternoon nap/cuddle
In fact, the only thing that forces them to separate is Baki. Meowing loudly, he pushes between them in an effort to take his /rightful/ place in Chuuya's arms.
They missed their afternoon nap/cuddle
session because Chuuya had to go to his doctors appointment, and the cat is /miffed/ at having missed his daily dose of attention.
"You're a /brat/," Chuuya huffs in amusement, pulling Baki into his arms. The insult falls on deaf ears.
Dazai slumps backward against the
"You're a /brat/," Chuuya huffs in amusement, pulling Baki into his arms. The insult falls on deaf ears.
Dazai slumps backward against the
headboard again, hands falling to his thighs again. He doesn't /complain/ like he usually might, content to watch Chuuya perched in his lap and raining kisses on Baki's head.
His eyes are practically glowing with warmth, so openly affectionate that it makes Chuuya feel like he's
His eyes are practically glowing with warmth, so openly affectionate that it makes Chuuya feel like he's
about to be burned with it.
"Are you tired?" He asks gently, thumbs massaging the inside of his knees. He can't seem to stop touching him.
Chuuya nods, dropping Baki onto his side of his side of the bed so he can stretch his back out by raising his arms in the air. It's been a
"Are you tired?" He asks gently, thumbs massaging the inside of his knees. He can't seem to stop touching him.
Chuuya nods, dropping Baki onto his side of his side of the bed so he can stretch his back out by raising his arms in the air. It's been a
/long/, emotional day. Between the talk with Dazai and the appointment with Gide, he'd be wiped out even if he /had/ managed to take his usual afternoon nap.
He hadn't, because of the appointment. Something he's /proud/ of, but slightly regretting, because it's the /first/ day
He hadn't, because of the appointment. Something he's /proud/ of, but slightly regretting, because it's the /first/ day
he's managed to go the entire day without taking a nap to make it through. He /is/ more exhausted than usual as a result, and he's sure that he's going to sleep in late tomorrow, but it's /progress/.
It's still early in the evening, but it's late enough that Chuuya doesn't feel
It's still early in the evening, but it's late enough that Chuuya doesn't feel
bad about passing out. He's eaten and showered, so there's really nothing left to do besides hang out on his phone anyways.
Well, there's /one/ thing.
He reaches for Dazai's wrist, hooking the tip of his finger in the metal loop on the collar that's wrapped around his wrist.
Well, there's /one/ thing.
He reaches for Dazai's wrist, hooking the tip of his finger in the metal loop on the collar that's wrapped around his wrist.
Tugging on it lightly, he asks, "Will you put it back on me?"
He's been wearing chokers-- and later, collars-- that Dazai had given to him for months now. His neck feels almost startlingly bare without it, and now that they're /okay/ again, he wants it back. He wants to wear it
He's been wearing chokers-- and later, collars-- that Dazai had given to him for months now. His neck feels almost startlingly bare without it, and now that they're /okay/ again, he wants it back. He wants to wear it
again, wants the reassurance of warm metal pressed up against his throat and the reminder it brings him.
Dazai flips his wrist over, revealing the buckle so Chuuya can undo it. "Are you sure?" He asks, not /pressuring/, but there's a definite edge of excitement in his voice.
Dazai flips his wrist over, revealing the buckle so Chuuya can undo it. "Are you sure?" He asks, not /pressuring/, but there's a definite edge of excitement in his voice.
Chuuya smiles. Dazai's always been respectful of his boundaries, but he's been /extra/ careful ever since their argument. It's thoughtful.
"Yes," he says, unbuckling the collar and tugging it free from his wrist. Instead of putting it on himself, he just places the leather in
"Yes," he says, unbuckling the collar and tugging it free from his wrist. Instead of putting it on himself, he just places the leather in
his hand.
It’s an /offer/. Letting him know what he wants and letting him make the final move. Equality and partnership.
Without looking away, Dazai takes his hands away from him. Carefully, he takes the leather between his fingers and leans upward.
Tipping his chin up.
It’s an /offer/. Letting him know what he wants and letting him make the final move. Equality and partnership.
Without looking away, Dazai takes his hands away from him. Carefully, he takes the leather between his fingers and leans upward.
Tipping his chin up.
Chuuya offers him his throat without hesitation or fear.
The tips of Dazai’s fingers drag over the side of his neck as he wraps the collar around his neck, drawing a shiver out of him.
Without being able to look, it takes Dazai a few moments to buckle the collar, but he manages
The tips of Dazai’s fingers drag over the side of his neck as he wraps the collar around his neck, drawing a shiver out of him.
Without being able to look, it takes Dazai a few moments to buckle the collar, but he manages
it. When he does, he runs a finger between his neck and the leather, checking the fit.
The feeling of the collar against his throat makes something inside Chuuya sigh with contentment. It’s the last piece to finally fall into place, the last piece he needed to /really/ fee at
The feeling of the collar against his throat makes something inside Chuuya sigh with contentment. It’s the last piece to finally fall into place, the last piece he needed to /really/ fee at
peace. To let go of the final pieces of tension and anxiety and just /breathe/.
“Are you going to sleep with me, or are you busy?” Chuuya asks, fixing Dazai with his best puppy dog look he has. He wants to be /cuddled/, so he’s hoping he’ll say he’s ready to sleep.
Dazai
“Are you going to sleep with me, or are you busy?” Chuuya asks, fixing Dazai with his best puppy dog look he has. He wants to be /cuddled/, so he’s hoping he’ll say he’s ready to sleep.
Dazai
reaches for the book he discarded, ripping off the top corner of the page in a casual display of disrespect towards books that makes Chuuya cringe. “We can cuddle,” he offers, tossing the book onto the nightstand.
He doesn’t offer to /sleep/ but he knows Dazai well enough by
He doesn’t offer to /sleep/ but he knows Dazai well enough by
now to realize that the man has insomnia. It’s gotten /better/ over the last few weeks, now that he’s sleeping with Chuuya— who has always had a good sleeping schedule—and there’s more routine in the act of getting ready for sleep, but it’s not a cure.
Sometimes he’ll just curl
Sometimes he’ll just curl
up with Chuuya and just hold him while he waits to sleep to take him.
It used to make Chuuya feel /bad/— it feels unfair that he gets to sleep peacefully while Dazai struggles— but Dazai reassured him that it /helps/. He has a reason to stay in bed now and eventually he usually
It used to make Chuuya feel /bad/— it feels unfair that he gets to sleep peacefully while Dazai struggles— but Dazai reassured him that it /helps/. He has a reason to stay in bed now and eventually he usually
gets a few hours of sleep at least.
Chuuya crawls under the blankets, yawning.
He ends up stretched out along his back, with Dazai’s head resting on his chest and his arms around his waist. His own arms are draped over Dazai’s broad shoulders, fingers creeping under his
Chuuya crawls under the blankets, yawning.
He ends up stretched out along his back, with Dazai’s head resting on his chest and his arms around his waist. His own arms are draped over Dazai’s broad shoulders, fingers creeping under his
shirt at the nape.
Baki curls up near his head, deliberately putting his back to Chuuya. The silent cuddle treatment makes him snicker, nudging Baki with his head in response. Yoko eventually leaps up and plops down at the end of the bed. Kozo settles in the doorway with an
Baki curls up near his head, deliberately putting his back to Chuuya. The silent cuddle treatment makes him snicker, nudging Baki with his head in response. Yoko eventually leaps up and plops down at the end of the bed. Kozo settles in the doorway with an
exaggerated groan.
Like that, Chuuya falls asleep while surrounded by his family. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last—
But somehow this feels like a new beginning. The beginning of something /fantastic/.
—— +
The minute Yuan spots Chuuya among the crowd in
Like that, Chuuya falls asleep while surrounded by his family. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last—
But somehow this feels like a new beginning. The beginning of something /fantastic/.
—— +
The minute Yuan spots Chuuya among the crowd in
the shopping mall, she’s fixing him with a concerned glare over the rim of her pink Starbucks.She’s decked out in all pinks and oranges today, and there’s a new streak of sunset-orange in her pink hair that wasn’t there the last time he saw her.
“Where the hell have you /been/?”
“Where the hell have you /been/?”
She whisper-shouts at him, waving her hand like she’s going to smack him. Her nails are pink with little cherries drawn on them.
Chuuya surpresses a wince. When he dropped out, he did tell her that he was doing it for medical reasons a few days later. He never really /explained/
Chuuya surpresses a wince. When he dropped out, he did tell her that he was doing it for medical reasons a few days later. He never really /explained/
what happened to him, but he reassured her that he was recovering and okay. It hadn’t been /enough/ and she’d pestered him every day for the last few weeks, but at least she didn’t show up at Dazai’s house demanding answers.
Chuuya sips his own drink, dropping into the seat
Chuuya sips his own drink, dropping into the seat
beside her. “I went on vacation because I thought I was doing better, and turns out I wasn’t.”
That’s the story he’s going with to explain why he disappeared for the two days of his kidnapping and rescue, and for why he’s been generally quiet and refusing to hang out since then.
That’s the story he’s going with to explain why he disappeared for the two days of his kidnapping and rescue, and for why he’s been generally quiet and refusing to hang out since then.
It’s been nearly a month since his rescue, and it’s the first time he’s gone out in the city without Dazai or his sister to accompany him. It’s the first time he’s felt /up/ to being without the protection of his family.
It’s slightly anxiety-inducing. He hasn’t talked to
It’s slightly anxiety-inducing. He hasn’t talked to
Nikolai since he knocked him out and /kidnapped/ him— pretty sure he never wants to /again/, but the fact that his /own friend/ hurt him like that has him silently boiling with hurt and confusion— and he doesn’t know what happened to him. It makes him /nervous/, nervous shivers
crawling up and down his spine.
He’s way more alert than he needs to be, feeling one step away from bolting at any time, eyes catching suspiciously on every single person who has dark hair or light eyes.
But it also feels…
Good, in a painful way. Like ripping off a bandaid
He’s way more alert than he needs to be, feeling one step away from bolting at any time, eyes catching suspiciously on every single person who has dark hair or light eyes.
But it also feels…
Good, in a painful way. Like ripping off a bandaid
to reveal the painful wound beneath. Healing is almost as painful as the wound itself is, but it’s /progress/.
“Why didn’t you /tell/ me, you pint-sized jerk?” Yuan sniffs, turning her nose up at Chuuya’s offended gasp. “I was /worried/.”
Chuuya doesn’t doubt that. Yuan’s
“Why didn’t you /tell/ me, you pint-sized jerk?” Yuan sniffs, turning her nose up at Chuuya’s offended gasp. “I was /worried/.”
Chuuya doesn’t doubt that. Yuan’s
/always/ been a good friend— the best friend Chuuya has made since he left for college— and the only one that hasn’t /betrayed/ him in some way.
“I know,” he says, scooting over to lean against her comfortingly. “I didn’t mean to worry you, it just… happened like that.”
Yuan
“I know,” he says, scooting over to lean against her comfortingly. “I didn’t mean to worry you, it just… happened like that.”
Yuan
blows a raspberry at him, taking a long sip of her drink in obvious irritation. But she’s leaning against him too, her shoulder soft and warm through her light jacket.
By the time she’s done drinking, she’s apparently moved on. “/So/,” she starts with, wiggling her eyebrows,
By the time she’s done drinking, she’s apparently moved on. “/So/,” she starts with, wiggling her eyebrows,
“/Dazai/ took you on vacation?”
Honestly, he swears that a /decent/ part of the reason Yuan has been so insistent on hanging out with him is so she can get the /gossip/ on Dazai.
“Yeah,” he says, giving her a /secret/ look. “Osaka.”
The best way to keep true to a lie is
Honestly, he swears that a /decent/ part of the reason Yuan has been so insistent on hanging out with him is so she can get the /gossip/ on Dazai.
“Yeah,” he says, giving her a /secret/ look. “Osaka.”
The best way to keep true to a lie is
to embed it in /truth/, so he’s just basically using the trip to Osaka he was taken on /earlier/ to cover up his absence.
“Osaka?” She repeats, sounding oddly disappointed. “You would think he would take you somewhere more /upscale/, with all that money he has. I was expecting
“Osaka?” She repeats, sounding oddly disappointed. “You would think he would take you somewhere more /upscale/, with all that money he has. I was expecting
somewhere more /romantic/. Like...America or something."
Chuuya snorts. "You think America is /romantic/?"
"Well, not /really/ but you get what I mean!"
"Suure," he says, taking the last sip of his drink and standing up to throw it away. "Come on, I need your help buying
Chuuya snorts. "You think America is /romantic/?"
"Well, not /really/ but you get what I mean!"
"Suure," he says, taking the last sip of his drink and standing up to throw it away. "Come on, I need your help buying
something."
/That/ gets Yuan's attention, perking up and following after him eagerly. "Oh, really? What do you need my help with?"
Chuuya only hesitates a /little/ because he's gotten used to the concept of discussing sex. Dazai is very open about it, and he's learned by
/That/ gets Yuan's attention, perking up and following after him eagerly. "Oh, really? What do you need my help with?"
Chuuya only hesitates a /little/ because he's gotten used to the concept of discussing sex. Dazai is very open about it, and he's learned by
/example/ that it's really nothing to be embarrassed about. Even Yuan has discussed her hook-ups around him a few times and it wasn't /weird/.
But this is a little more /involved/, and he's not sure if it's /too much/, but he /really/ wanted a female perspective on this idea and
But this is a little more /involved/, and he's not sure if it's /too much/, but he /really/ wanted a female perspective on this idea and
he really just pounced on the idea of going shopping with Yuan.
Two birds with one stone. Reassuring her that he's /not/ dead, dismembered or kidnapped-- her words, not his-- while also getting to catch up /and/ solve his little problem.
"Well," he sighs, heading towards the
Two birds with one stone. Reassuring her that he's /not/ dead, dismembered or kidnapped-- her words, not his-- while also getting to catch up /and/ solve his little problem.
"Well," he sighs, heading towards the
opposite side of the mall. The store he wants is on that side. "Dazai and I had a...little argument."
/Understatement/, really, but he can't go into the details of their brief break up without going into the story about Dazai being ex-mafia and his kidnapping and his /sister/
/Understatement/, really, but he can't go into the details of their brief break up without going into the story about Dazai being ex-mafia and his kidnapping and his /sister/
being current mafia, and that /entire/ mess.
He's not /completely/ sure if Yuan knows about the Mafia--she's friends with Nikolai and Shuuji too, which makes him suspicious, but she's never done anything herself to make him think otherwise. If she's /not/ aware, then telling her
He's not /completely/ sure if Yuan knows about the Mafia--she's friends with Nikolai and Shuuji too, which makes him suspicious, but she's never done anything herself to make him think otherwise. If she's /not/ aware, then telling her
would put her in danger.
If she is aware, then it means she /knew/ about Nikolai, and he can't be friends with her.
Dazai himself said she probably didn't know, and Kouyou backed him up,so he's going on the /assumption/ that she doesn't know.
Which is good, because he /wants/
If she is aware, then it means she /knew/ about Nikolai, and he can't be friends with her.
Dazai himself said she probably didn't know, and Kouyou backed him up,so he's going on the /assumption/ that she doesn't know.
Which is good, because he /wants/
a normal friend. A friend he can call up and go to lunch with without the politics of the Yakuza hanging over their heads. A friend he can just be /normal/ with.
"Oh, we're fine," he continues when Yuan shoots him a concerned look. "We're over it and we both apologized, but now
"Oh, we're fine," he continues when Yuan shoots him a concerned look. "We're over it and we both apologized, but now
he's...hesitant with me."
Which is /true/, unfortunately. Dazai's been /affectionate/ with him, but there's an undercurrent of /insecurity/ that wasn't there before. Like he's not sure if they're /actually/ okay, and he needs to keep himself behaved to keep from scaring Chuuya
Which is /true/, unfortunately. Dazai's been /affectionate/ with him, but there's an undercurrent of /insecurity/ that wasn't there before. Like he's not sure if they're /actually/ okay, and he needs to keep himself behaved to keep from scaring Chuuya
away. He's affectionate and /responsive/ with Chuuya, but he's never pushed for something more.
Which is fine, and Chuuya appreciated that while he was still recovering and confused but--
He's not, now, and he wants /attention/.
"Hesitant how?" Yuan asks.
Sighing, Chuuya just
Which is fine, and Chuuya appreciated that while he was still recovering and confused but--
He's not, now, and he wants /attention/.
"Hesitant how?" Yuan asks.
Sighing, Chuuya just
decides to /go/ for it. "We haven't had sex since."
That's an understatement-- they actually had sex since /before/ Chuuya's medical scare. It's been over a /month/ and he's just a /guy/, okay, he's starting to get /needy/.
And because Dazai isn't pushing unseen boundaries
That's an understatement-- they actually had sex since /before/ Chuuya's medical scare. It's been over a /month/ and he's just a /guy/, okay, he's starting to get /needy/.
And because Dazai isn't pushing unseen boundaries
it's put Chuuya in the position of /initiating/ himself.
Which he's never really /done/ before, not like this. He's not... /shy/ or nervous, he just hasn't /seduced/ Dazai deliberately before. He wants-- /needs/-- to do it right.
It's /slightly/ nerve-wracking because of their
Which he's never really /done/ before, not like this. He's not... /shy/ or nervous, he just hasn't /seduced/ Dazai deliberately before. He wants-- /needs/-- to do it right.
It's /slightly/ nerve-wracking because of their
difference in experience. Chuuya has no doubt that he /wants/ him, but he's /also/ sure that Dazai has had a /lot/ more partners that were more experienced and /better/ than him.
Which is why he's here. Technically he /could/ just ask Dazai to fuck him and it'd be fine but--
He
Which is why he's here. Technically he /could/ just ask Dazai to fuck him and it'd be fine but--
He
wants something with more /flair/. He wants to put /effort/ into it.
Yuan /gasps/, like she's scandalized. "No sex for like, a whole /week/?"
Chuuya shoots her a scathing look, softened by the bump of his hip against hers.
She giggles. "No, I get it. If /I/ was getting that
Yuan /gasps/, like she's scandalized. "No sex for like, a whole /week/?"
Chuuya shoots her a scathing look, softened by the bump of his hip against hers.
She giggles. "No, I get it. If /I/ was getting that
dick, I'd probably be bouncing on it /all the time/."
She sighs wistfully, her expression dreamy, and /maybe/ Chuuya should feel peeved that she's technically daydreaming about his boyfriends dick but honestly?
He gets it. Hell, /he's/ spent the last few days fantasizing about
She sighs wistfully, her expression dreamy, and /maybe/ Chuuya should feel peeved that she's technically daydreaming about his boyfriends dick but honestly?
He gets it. Hell, /he's/ spent the last few days fantasizing about
his cock and he's experienced it. Dazai is /unfairly/ attractive, and Yuan already /said/ she wanted him even before they got together so.
He understands her.
They weave their way through the mall, heading toward the lingerie shop Chuuya picked out for today.
"So you need my
He understands her.
They weave their way through the mall, heading toward the lingerie shop Chuuya picked out for today.
"So you need my
help seducing him?" She confirms, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"Yeah," Chuuya confirms. "I haven't really done it before, so I need some advice."
She gives him a /salacious/ grin, eyes twinkling. "You came to the right place. But I require payment."
Chuuya thinks about
"Yeah," Chuuya confirms. "I haven't really done it before, so I need some advice."
She gives him a /salacious/ grin, eyes twinkling. "You came to the right place. But I require payment."
Chuuya thinks about
it. "I can buy you whatever you want at the store? Dazai gave me his black card and basically told me to go wild, so I don't think it matters how much I spend."
Her jaw /drops/. "He /gave/ you his black card?"
Chuuya nods. Three months ago, the idea of that would make him feel
Her jaw /drops/. "He /gave/ you his black card?"
Chuuya nods. Three months ago, the idea of that would make him feel
guilty and uncomfortable, but with how much money Dazai spends on him anyways, he's gotten used to it.
Besides, they're /committed/ now. It's not a /fling/, it's not something /temporary/. He should get used to the idea of spending Dazai's money.
Yuan sighs again. "I wish I had
Besides, they're /committed/ now. It's not a /fling/, it's not something /temporary/. He should get used to the idea of spending Dazai's money.
Yuan sighs again. "I wish I had
someone to give me their black card to go crazy with. Especially someone as hot as Dazai, because all the sugar daddies are mostly..." she makes a face, "eh."
'Eh' sounds like the correct description for that, but Chuuya doesn't know enough to agree wholeheartedly.
As they step
'Eh' sounds like the correct description for that, but Chuuya doesn't know enough to agree wholeheartedly.
As they step
into the shop, Yuan shakes herself out of it. "But no, that's not what I want. I want /details/. I'm living vicariously through you so you gotta tell me /everything/."
Chuuya frowns at that, looking over the display mannequins dressed in various outfits of lingerie and cute
Chuuya frowns at that, looking over the display mannequins dressed in various outfits of lingerie and cute
feminine underwear. He's gained a lot of confidence since he started dating Dazai, and now the idea of buying lingerie doesn't make him uncomfortable anymore.
That doesn't mean he knows what looks /good/ on him though, because the only set he has-- which is now ruined, by the
That doesn't mean he knows what looks /good/ on him though, because the only set he has-- which is now ruined, by the
way, permanently stained because Dazai made him cum in them-- was picked out by Dazai. He's not sure what style looks good on him, or things he should avoid, or anything, really.
Which is why he brought Yuan.
"Details?" He asks, heading towards the side of the shop dedicated to
Which is why he brought Yuan.
"Details?" He asks, heading towards the side of the shop dedicated to
lingerie with Yuan following behind.
"Yeah!" She says, much too loudly and shamelessly for what she's about to say next. "Like, how /is/ the sex? Is he /kinky/? How big is it? Please tell me it's big."
He can't help the snort of amusement. Typical of Yuan to focus on things
"Yeah!" She says, much too loudly and shamelessly for what she's about to say next. "Like, how /is/ the sex? Is he /kinky/? How big is it? Please tell me it's big."
He can't help the snort of amusement. Typical of Yuan to focus on things
like /that/. "The sex is /good/. Can't really compare it to anything but it's /really/ good. He /is/ kinky, at least in my eyes. I don't know if you'd think he was kinky though. As for..."
He hums, measuring out a length /approximating/ Dazai's cock-- he is not ashamed to admit
He hums, measuring out a length /approximating/ Dazai's cock-- he is not ashamed to admit
to himself that he's /fantasized/ a lot about it lately and probably has the size of it memorized-- and watches with satisfaction as Yuan's eyes bulge.
"You're /lying/."
Chuuya denies that by shaking his head, picking up a sheer lingerie piece that looks almost like a dress. He
"You're /lying/."
Chuuya denies that by shaking his head, picking up a sheer lingerie piece that looks almost like a dress. He
likes the color and cut of it, but he's not sure if it /fits/ for his plans.
"Oh my god, I /knew/ it was big," Yuan mutters to herself, sounding way too pleased with herself. "You lucky bastard. And he likes to see you all dressed up? Or do /you/ like it?"
That seems like a
"Oh my god, I /knew/ it was big," Yuan mutters to herself, sounding way too pleased with herself. "You lucky bastard. And he likes to see you all dressed up? Or do /you/ like it?"
That seems like a
/probing/ question.
"Both, I guess," he says, shrugging. He doesn't think she'll make a big deal about it, but it's /nerve-wracking/ to tell someone else that he...
Kind of likes dressing in feminine clothing? Girl clothes are /prettier/ and there's much more style options, and
"Both, I guess," he says, shrugging. He doesn't think she'll make a big deal about it, but it's /nerve-wracking/ to tell someone else that he...
Kind of likes dressing in feminine clothing? Girl clothes are /prettier/ and there's much more style options, and
there's something very /freeing/ and /sexy/ about wearing a skirt.
Part of him wonders if that means /something/ about his gender, but honestly? He doesn't want to think about it. Doesn't want to stress himself out by wondering if he's /really/ a man or if he just likes girls
Part of him wonders if that means /something/ about his gender, but honestly? He doesn't want to think about it. Doesn't want to stress himself out by wondering if he's /really/ a man or if he just likes girls
clothes.
That’s part of the reason that he loves Dazai so much. He doesn’t /pressure/ him. He doesn’t point out all the things that Chuuya likes that aren’t /exactly/ masculine, and ask him why he likes it or what it all means.
He just lets him enjoy what he enjoys, and helps
That’s part of the reason that he loves Dazai so much. He doesn’t /pressure/ him. He doesn’t point out all the things that Chuuya likes that aren’t /exactly/ masculine, and ask him why he likes it or what it all means.
He just lets him enjoy what he enjoys, and helps
him explore other things he /might/ like, and he doesn’t make any assumptions about it.
Or maybe he does, and he just never says anything. It doesn’t matter to him.
Chuuya’s just /Chuuya/. He respects that gender is really important to some people, but he doesn’t think he’s
Or maybe he does, and he just never says anything. It doesn’t matter to him.
Chuuya’s just /Chuuya/. He respects that gender is really important to some people, but he doesn’t think he’s
one of them. He just wants to enjoy himself.
“Oh,” Yuan says, blinking at him and there’s a /moment/ where he thinks she’s going to call him weird—
“Did you have anything planned?”
But she doesn’t.
“Not really,” he mutters, moving over the racks. There’s a pretty, strappy
“Oh,” Yuan says, blinking at him and there’s a /moment/ where he thinks she’s going to call him weird—
“Did you have anything planned?”
But she doesn’t.
“Not really,” he mutters, moving over the racks. There’s a pretty, strappy
piece on the mannequin, but he can’t seem to find it on the rack. “But we’re both going to be home, so I was thinking about doing dinner?”
Maybe his seduction plan would be better acted out at a fancy restaurant but—
He remembers how /long/ Dazai teased him for whenever they
Maybe his seduction plan would be better acted out at a fancy restaurant but—
He remembers how /long/ Dazai teased him for whenever they
went out in public, and with how pent up he’s been lately, he’s not /chancing/ that. Plus, he’s still kind of /iffy/ about being in public for long periods of time, and he doesn’t think he’s ready for that.
He’d much prefer an easy, cozy dinner at home before being carried up to
He’d much prefer an easy, cozy dinner at home before being carried up to
their bedroom. Less /mess/, less anxiety, less tension. More of just focusing on /them/ without any distractions.
“Oooh,” Yuan says, beginning to flip through the rack closest to her. “Candlelit dinner. Very /romantic/.”
Chuuya makes a mental note to buy candles on the way
“Oooh,” Yuan says, beginning to flip through the rack closest to her. “Candlelit dinner. Very /romantic/.”
Chuuya makes a mental note to buy candles on the way
home, because he didn’t think of that.
“So what I was /planning/ is that I get home, I cook dinner. We eat, and then I go up and shower where I change into something…” Chuuya holds up the baby doll to his frame, making a ‘you know’ face.
Yuan makes a sound of victory,
“So what I was /planning/ is that I get home, I cook dinner. We eat, and then I go up and shower where I change into something…” Chuuya holds up the baby doll to his frame, making a ‘you know’ face.
Yuan makes a sound of victory,
pulling out a hanger that has something with a lot of straps and buckles on it. “No, no,” she says, coming over. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home, do all your shower stuff and then change into this—.”
She holds the piece up to his torso, and he can see
She holds the piece up to his torso, and he can see
that it’s a thigh-heavy piece. Lots of straps and buckles that would go over his hips and thighs and waist, with not much that goes on his chest.
Dazai’s /always/ liked his thighs, so that’s a plus. And it’s /black/, which is a pretty classic color, but obviously one of Dazai’s
Dazai’s /always/ liked his thighs, so that’s a plus. And it’s /black/, which is a pretty classic color, but obviously one of Dazai’s
favorites.
“— and then put your regular clothes on top. Make /sure/ he sees it. I don’t care if you have to cook bacon shirtless, you make sure this man /knows/ you’re dressed up underneath your clothes. You’re gonna torture him. Make him /wait/, make him /simmer/. You want him
“— and then put your regular clothes on top. Make /sure/ he sees it. I don’t care if you have to cook bacon shirtless, you make sure this man /knows/ you’re dressed up underneath your clothes. You’re gonna torture him. Make him /wait/, make him /simmer/. You want him
/desperate/ to touch you."
Turns out, seduction is not just a science-- it's an /artform/. Chuuya sort of expected as much, based on the times Dazai seduced him, but it still feels like he's being dropped onto a theater stage with only a crash course on his lines.
Yuan gives
Turns out, seduction is not just a science-- it's an /artform/. Chuuya sort of expected as much, based on the times Dazai seduced him, but it still feels like he's being dropped onto a theater stage with only a crash course on his lines.
Yuan gives
him /so/ much advice while helping him pick out a few-- half a /dozen/-- sets of lingerie. Ways to touch Dazai to 'build him up'-- his knee, his /forearms/--, teasing him by not giving him /too/ much but just enough to make him /interested/, subtle ways to flash the lingerie he's
wearing underneath, ways to eat his food /seductively/, food that can be eaten seductively, how to /sit/, eye contact, things to /say/.
"You sure know a lot about this," Chuuya mutters after he comes out of the changing room for the /fifth/ time. Yuan offered to go in with him
"You sure know a lot about this," Chuuya mutters after he comes out of the changing room for the /fifth/ time. Yuan offered to go in with him
to give her seal of approval, but he denied because he isn't /quite/ comfortable showing her all his bits.
Besides, he needs some time to /process/ and take notes on his phone,because there's a /lot/.
When he decided to /seduce/ Dazai, he knew there was going to be /legwork/.
Besides, he needs some time to /process/ and take notes on his phone,because there's a /lot/.
When he decided to /seduce/ Dazai, he knew there was going to be /legwork/.
He could've gone the easy route and just straight up asked Dazai to fuck him-- he's /positive/ the man would never say no to him--but he thought about it and consciously decided to make an /effort/.
So far, Dazai's usually been the one initiating and leading their sexual lives.
So far, Dazai's usually been the one initiating and leading their sexual lives.
He doesn’t /mind/ that—in fact, he actually really likes it—and he’s not trying to change that—even though he has been playing with the idea of fucking /Dazai/ some day and pondering when he should bring it up—but ever since they restarted their relationship, he’s been determined
to take an /equal/ part in their relationship.
Which means he /can’t/ just sit around and wait for Dazai to initiate. If he wants something, he needs to /work/ for it.
“Oh sweetheart,” Yuan sighs at him, pushing him towards the cashiers register. “Being a girl is /all/ about
Which means he /can’t/ just sit around and wait for Dazai to initiate. If he wants something, he needs to /work/ for it.
“Oh sweetheart,” Yuan sighs at him, pushing him towards the cashiers register. “Being a girl is /all/ about
learning how to seduce your way into getting whatever you want. How do you think I got all this stuff? /Work/?”
Well, he never really put a lot of /thought/ into it. He just assumed Yuan was rich like everyone else was, even though she never mentioned her family.
“I’ve been
Well, he never really put a lot of /thought/ into it. He just assumed Yuan was rich like everyone else was, even though she never mentioned her family.
“I’ve been
conning men out of their wallets for /years/,” she brags, “I’ve learned a few tricks.”
Oh. Well alright then. Good for her.
He pays for the lingerie, staring hard at the cashier and almost /daring/ him to say something.
The young man at the register doesn’t say a word. Maybe
Oh. Well alright then. Good for her.
He pays for the lingerie, staring hard at the cashier and almost /daring/ him to say something.
The young man at the register doesn’t say a word. Maybe
it’s because he came in with a girl, or maybe it’s the dead-inside look in his eyes, but he just calmly rings it all up and gives him his total in a monotone voice.
Chuuya hands him the card, feeling like he’s /bragging/ by flashing a black card in the middle of the store.
“Do
Chuuya hands him the card, feeling like he’s /bragging/ by flashing a black card in the middle of the store.
“Do
you want regular packaging or discrete?" The cashier asks, showing him a bag with the stores logo on it and another plain paper bag.
"Discrete," Chuuya says. Dazai will be picking him up soon, and he doesn't want to ruin the /surprise/. He doesn't want him to know /too/ much
"Discrete," Chuuya says. Dazai will be picking him up soon, and he doesn't want to ruin the /surprise/. He doesn't want him to know /too/ much
before he's ready. Yuan said the most /powerful/ moment is in the /reveal/, and he's taking that to heart.
All his purchases get folded neatly and stored into the bag without another word.
Yuan links arms with him on their way out of the store, looking self-satisfied with
All his purchases get folded neatly and stored into the bag without another word.
Yuan links arms with him on their way out of the store, looking self-satisfied with
herself. "You /have/ to tell me how it goes," she says, nudging him with her hip and giving him an obvious wink. "And you have to hang out with me soon. Don't be a stranger. I miss you."
Chuuya /does/ feel bad about that, because as soon as his relationship with Dazai started to
Chuuya /does/ feel bad about that, because as soon as his relationship with Dazai started to
get intense, he basically dropped most of his friend group. It wasn't /intentional/ and it wasn't because he didn't /want/ to hang out with her, it was just--
He was busy with Dazai, busy dealing with the fact that Shuuji /literally/ tried to run him over, then dealing with his
He was busy with Dazai, busy dealing with the fact that Shuuji /literally/ tried to run him over, then dealing with his
medical scare, and /then/ dealing with being kidnapped, and /THEN/ dealing with the mafia revelation.
He was busy.
And he misses her too, because she's a /really/ good friend.
"I will," he promises, squeezing her arm. "We can hang out soon, I promise. Maybe next week?"
It's
He was busy.
And he misses her too, because she's a /really/ good friend.
"I will," he promises, squeezing her arm. "We can hang out soon, I promise. Maybe next week?"
It's
around the time for finals week-- a thought that makes him /sad/, because he /should/ be drowning in studying and homework right now, and he /misses/ that frantic schedule-- so it's probably one of the few times she can hang out before finals start.
Yuan brightens. "Yeah! Isn't
Yuan brightens. "Yeah! Isn't
your birthday soon?"
Chuuya thinks about it, doing the math in his head. "In about six weeks."
He didn't really notice it before, but he was only eighteen and a half when he met Dazai. Then so much has happened, and now he's about to be nineteen.
Time really does fly. Gone
Chuuya thinks about it, doing the math in his head. "In about six weeks."
He didn't really notice it before, but he was only eighteen and a half when he met Dazai. Then so much has happened, and now he's about to be nineteen.
Time really does fly. Gone
almost before he can notice it.
Yuan nudges him with her elbow. "Make sure Dazai does something /nice/ for you for your birthday."
Oh, he has no doubt in the world that Dazai will go /all out/ for his birthday. He hasn't found anything /yet/, but he's caught Dazai on his phone
Yuan nudges him with her elbow. "Make sure Dazai does something /nice/ for you for your birthday."
Oh, he has no doubt in the world that Dazai will go /all out/ for his birthday. He hasn't found anything /yet/, but he's caught Dazai on his phone
in the middle of the night a /few/ times, and each time Dazai noticed he woke up, he /quickly/ put it away.
He's planning /something/, and Chuuya is already starting to feel excitement at the thought of what might happen.
"I will," he snickers, giving her a wink. "But we'll do
He's planning /something/, and Chuuya is already starting to feel excitement at the thought of what might happen.
"I will," he snickers, giving her a wink. "But we'll do
something too, don't worry."
Yuan gives him a big grin before waving goodbye, promising to text him and reminding him to text her all the details.
Part of Chuuya is /nervous/ watching her walk away because she's taking the train alone, but he just has to get used to it. Life
Yuan gives him a big grin before waving goodbye, promising to text him and reminding him to text her all the details.
Part of Chuuya is /nervous/ watching her walk away because she's taking the train alone, but he just has to get used to it. Life
doesn’t /change/ just because he’s now aware of all the dangers that come with it. He can’t stop living his life, his friends can’t stop living theirs, and he /can’t/ hover over them in paranoia.
It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.
Dazai is waiting outside in the
It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.
Dazai is waiting outside in the
parking lot, leaning against his car. He looks /exquisitely/ good in a pair of normal jeans and a shirt, it’s actually /unfair/.
And he brought Chuuya a /surprise/.
As soon as he gets in sight, there’s excited barking coming from the car. Dazai looks torn between /fondness/
And he brought Chuuya a /surprise/.
As soon as he gets in sight, there’s excited barking coming from the car. Dazai looks torn between /fondness/
and exasperation.
“Yoko wouldn’t let me leave without bringing her with,” he greets, “She was /upset/ that you weren’t there to play with her.”
Honestly, she’s gotten a little /spoiled/, not that Chuuya is upset by that. Since he’s been home pretty much all day every day,
“Yoko wouldn’t let me leave without bringing her with,” he greets, “She was /upset/ that you weren’t there to play with her.”
Honestly, she’s gotten a little /spoiled/, not that Chuuya is upset by that. Since he’s been home pretty much all day every day,
she’s gotten used to him being around for playing and cuddling all the time. She’s been /particularly/ clingy since he got kidnapped, and he can barely go to the bathroom without her scratching at the door to be let in.
“She’s /spoiled/,” Dazai sighs, shaking his head in
“She’s /spoiled/,” Dazai sighs, shaking his head in
mock disappointment.
Chuuya smiles at him, stepping up to him and wrapping his fingers in his shirt to tug him down into a kiss. “She /loves/ me,” he corrects, chasing the words with a greeting kiss.
Dazai smiles against his lips. “She has to get in line,” he murmurs back,
Chuuya smiles at him, stepping up to him and wrapping his fingers in his shirt to tug him down into a kiss. “She /loves/ me,” he corrects, chasing the words with a greeting kiss.
Dazai smiles against his lips. “She has to get in line,” he murmurs back,
one hand finding the small of Chuuya’s back to pull him closer. “You’re teaching her bad habits. I was here /first/.”
Grinning fondly, Chuuya loops his arms around his neck, leaning back against his hand without a shred of hesitation. He knows Dazai would never drop him.
Grinning fondly, Chuuya loops his arms around his neck, leaning back against his hand without a shred of hesitation. He knows Dazai would never drop him.
“What am I? A toy for you to fight over?” He teases, leaning back to look at his boyfriend more fully.
Dazai doesn’t /exactly/ deny that, changing the subject with a cheeky grin. “Did you have fun today?”
With one final squeeze around his neck, Chuuya let’s him go. Yoko sounds
Dazai doesn’t /exactly/ deny that, changing the subject with a cheeky grin. “Did you have fun today?”
With one final squeeze around his neck, Chuuya let’s him go. Yoko sounds
like she’s getting /impatient/ in the car. “I did. Nothing too interesting happened, and I got some stuff.”
Dazai watches him cross to the other side of the car. It had taken work to convince him to let Chuuya out of his sight, because he was still /nervous/ about him being
Dazai watches him cross to the other side of the car. It had taken work to convince him to let Chuuya out of his sight, because he was still /nervous/ about him being
unprotected. Almost as nervous as Chuuya himself was.
He’d only agreed under the condition that Chuuya would turn his phone GPS on and text him regularly, as well as being the person to drop him off and pick him up.
Some would think that would be /creepy/ and far too possessive
He’d only agreed under the condition that Chuuya would turn his phone GPS on and text him regularly, as well as being the person to drop him off and pick him up.
Some would think that would be /creepy/ and far too possessive
to the point of crossing a boundary, but Chuuya found it /comforting/ at this stage.
It made him feel /secure/ and protected.
He slides into the car and is immediately greeted with a soft muzzle in his face,frantically sniffing and licking his face in greeting. Laughing softly,
It made him feel /secure/ and protected.
He slides into the car and is immediately greeted with a soft muzzle in his face,frantically sniffing and licking his face in greeting. Laughing softly,
he leans away—because he doesn’t /actually/ like the feel of dog slobber on his face— and gives Yoko some pets instead.
“What /kind/ of stuff?” Dazai asks once they start driving, not-so-subtly eyeing the discrete bag stored at Chuuya’s feet.
Chuuya gives him a sweet,
“What /kind/ of stuff?” Dazai asks once they start driving, not-so-subtly eyeing the discrete bag stored at Chuuya’s feet.
Chuuya gives him a sweet,
secretive smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?”
Eyebrows shooting you, Dazai gives an incredulous laugh. “What?”
“You’ll find out /later/,” Chuuya insists, pushing Yoko back into the backseat because she’s trying fruitlessly to climb into his lap.
“Oh now you
Eyebrows shooting you, Dazai gives an incredulous laugh. “What?”
“You’ll find out /later/,” Chuuya insists, pushing Yoko back into the backseat because she’s trying fruitlessly to climb into his lap.
“Oh now you
/have/ to tell me!”
“I do /not/.”
“Okay, but what if I /guess/? Will you tell me if I’m right?”
Chuuya pretends to think about it. “Sure.”
He’s lying. He’s not going to tell Dazai if he’s right.
Dazai spends the rest of the drive flinging out increasingly ridiculous
“I do /not/.”
“Okay, but what if I /guess/? Will you tell me if I’m right?”
Chuuya pretends to think about it. “Sure.”
He’s lying. He’s not going to tell Dazai if he’s right.
Dazai spends the rest of the drive flinging out increasingly ridiculous
guesses, and at some he seems to be doing it just to make Chuuya /laugh/, eyes crinkling at the corners and his own smile growing wider every time he manages to make him burst into laughter.
When they get home, Chuuya heads straight up into the upstairs bathroom to go shower.
When they get home, Chuuya heads straight up into the upstairs bathroom to go shower.
Dazai offers to come with him, voice carefully neutral, but he declines.
He’s /slowly/ getting used to showering by himself again. It’s a /process/, and it takes longer than ever before, and sometimes he overdoes it—
But he’s working through it and there’s progress. Slow but
He’s /slowly/ getting used to showering by himself again. It’s a /process/, and it takes longer than ever before, and sometimes he overdoes it—
But he’s working through it and there’s progress. Slow but
steady progress.
Admittedly, it’s something he had to get /used/ to, because he’s not used to /physical/ things holding him back anymore but—
Progress.
He told Dazai he was making dinner tonight—which the man honestly seemed /excited/ for, perking up like a puppy with his
Admittedly, it’s something he had to get /used/ to, because he’s not used to /physical/ things holding him back anymore but—
Progress.
He told Dazai he was making dinner tonight—which the man honestly seemed /excited/ for, perking up like a puppy with his
metaphorical tail wagging because “he’s never had someone cook for him before”, which /does/ put a certain amount of pressure on him to make it /fancy/— so he’s not worried about having to rush. He can stand under the spray and leisurely take his time soaping up every inch of
himself, breathing through the lingering anxiety that never seems to go /away/, even if it is beginning to fade.
Washing his face is a process now, because he can’t dunk his face under the water, but he manages it.
Then it’s time to get /dressed/, and that’s when the /nerves/
Washing his face is a process now, because he can’t dunk his face under the water, but he manages it.
Then it’s time to get /dressed/, and that’s when the /nerves/
begin to set in. Because he's never put /this/ much effort into 'seducing' Dazai, and he's not sure if it's /too/ much? He's doing all the things he knows Dazai likes, but is he /trying/ too hard? He doesn't want to look /desperate/, he just wants to look like he's /trying/.
It'd be too embarrassing to /back out/ though, because he already put the thing on-- which took almost /ten/ minutes, to make sure all the straps were correct and laying nicely-- and he already told Yuan he was going to do it, so he's just going to /do it/. Fake it 'til he makes
it or whatever.
Taking a deep breath, he goes downstairs. It's hotter now, spring in /full/ swing, all the flowers returning and the summer sun beginning to make it's reappearance. The days are hotter now, even with the AC on inside, which means he's taken to wearing shorts
Taking a deep breath, he goes downstairs. It's hotter now, spring in /full/ swing, all the flowers returning and the summer sun beginning to make it's reappearance. The days are hotter now, even with the AC on inside, which means he's taken to wearing shorts
and loose shirts inside.
Which means he gets a /fantastic/ view of Dazai looking up from the dining table, a soft welcoming smile on his face, only for his eyes to catch on the straps peeking out of his shorts and encircling his upper thighs and go /wide/.
Chuuya has to fight
Which means he gets a /fantastic/ view of Dazai looking up from the dining table, a soft welcoming smile on his face, only for his eyes to catch on the straps peeking out of his shorts and encircling his upper thighs and go /wide/.
Chuuya has to fight
off a smug smile, all his nerves disappeared again under the wave of self-satisfaction. Prey /caught/.
"Did you have a nice shower?" Dazai says, and his voice might be a /little/ breathier than it should be. His eyes still haven't moved any farther up than his /hips/, watching
"Did you have a nice shower?" Dazai says, and his voice might be a /little/ breathier than it should be. His eyes still haven't moved any farther up than his /hips/, watching
the sway of them as Chuuya moves into the kitchen.
On the way there, he decides on a /detour/. Light on his feet, he comes over to stand in front of Dazai. He's still sitting, knees spread wide in unintentional invitation. Wide enough for Chuuya to stand between, one of Dazai's
On the way there, he decides on a /detour/. Light on his feet, he comes over to stand in front of Dazai. He's still sitting, knees spread wide in unintentional invitation. Wide enough for Chuuya to stand between, one of Dazai's
knees slipping between his thighs as he leans forward.
With him sitting, Dazai actually has to look /up/ at him, and Chuuya will /never/ get over the feeling of /power/ that gives him. Never get over the sight of brown eyes tipped to the light, entirely focused on his face.
With him sitting, Dazai actually has to look /up/ at him, and Chuuya will /never/ get over the feeling of /power/ that gives him. Never get over the sight of brown eyes tipped to the light, entirely focused on his face.
"I did," he hums, resting his forearms on his shoulders and leaning over to give him a greeting kiss.
This one is more /charged/ than the kiss in the parking lot. Dazai pushes up eagerly into it, the slide of his lips against his a /welcome/ and familiar feeling, the hint of his
This one is more /charged/ than the kiss in the parking lot. Dazai pushes up eagerly into it, the slide of his lips against his a /welcome/ and familiar feeling, the hint of his
tongue behind a tease/.
A hand finds his thigh, palm sliding roughly over soft skin. Dazai's thumb hooks in one of the straps, tugs teasingly on it as the rest of his fingers quest /upward/--
With a final, teasing swipe of his tongue over Dazai's bottom lip, Chuuya pulls away
A hand finds his thigh, palm sliding roughly over soft skin. Dazai's thumb hooks in one of the straps, tugs teasingly on it as the rest of his fingers quest /upward/--
With a final, teasing swipe of his tongue over Dazai's bottom lip, Chuuya pulls away
before he can get carried away.
Dazai pouts at him, looking like he just got denied his /favorite/ meal. Chuuya pats his shoulder patronizingly before he slides out of his arms entirely.
The dinner he chose to cook is a relatively simple one, just his personal spin on a beef
Dazai pouts at him, looking like he just got denied his /favorite/ meal. Chuuya pats his shoulder patronizingly before he slides out of his arms entirely.
The dinner he chose to cook is a relatively simple one, just his personal spin on a beef
stirfry that he started making when he was in high school. Easy and familiar, the perfect dish to jump back into cooking with.
It also comes with a /lot/ of memories of his childhood home. Practically inhaling the dish as he frantically studied for finals, laughing with his
It also comes with a /lot/ of memories of his childhood home. Practically inhaling the dish as he frantically studied for finals, laughing with his
sisters at whatever stupid show they were watching, sitting with his father on the porch.
Adding Dazai to those memories, interweaving him in the fabric of Chuuya's life, feels /right/.
Plus, he hasn't had access to a kitchen or the drive to cook in a few months, so it's
Adding Dazai to those memories, interweaving him in the fabric of Chuuya's life, feels /right/.
Plus, he hasn't had access to a kitchen or the drive to cook in a few months, so it's
best to start with something /simple/. He doesn't want to embarrass himself by burning something or making something gross.
He's /showing off/. He /wants/ to show off.
Dazai watches him fondly as he moves around the kitchen, the heat in his gaze slow and simmering. He doesn't
He's /showing off/. He /wants/ to show off.
Dazai watches him fondly as he moves around the kitchen, the heat in his gaze slow and simmering. He doesn't
move, content to just...watch him chop all the vegetables and stir up the sauce.
(What he doesn't know is that Dazai is having something of a /revelation/ at this moment.
He meant it when he said that no one's cooked for him. Sure, Oda and Yosano would occasionally shove a cup
(What he doesn't know is that Dazai is having something of a /revelation/ at this moment.
He meant it when he said that no one's cooked for him. Sure, Oda and Yosano would occasionally shove a cup
of cooked ramen in his hands, and sometimes Mori would share some of the meal he cooked for himself with him, but other than that? No one.
No one's cooked for him since his /mother/ did, so long ago, and he's just... quietly marveling at the sight.
He never realized how
No one's cooked for him since his /mother/ did, so long ago, and he's just... quietly marveling at the sight.
He never realized how
/intimate/ cooking was until he's faced with the sight of it. It's not just knowing how to cook something he likes, or doing it where he can see, it's--
It's Chuuya, knowing where every one of the utensils he needs is located. Moving around the kitchen like he /lives/ here,
It's Chuuya, knowing where every one of the utensils he needs is located. Moving around the kitchen like he /lives/ here,
effortlessly finding all the spices and ingredients, even things that /Dazai/ had half-forgotten were there. It's how /confident/ he is, like he's not a /guest/ in this kitchen.
This is his /home/, and this is /his/ kitchen, and Dazai feels like he's about to soar off a /cliff/
This is his /home/, and this is /his/ kitchen, and Dazai feels like he's about to soar off a /cliff/
when he realizes how /true/ that is.
This /is/ his home. This is /their/ home, together, and maybe some parts of it are cobbled together, maybe some parts don't always fit the way they're supposed to but--
This is /theirs/. Chuuya is here to /stay/, despite everything that
This /is/ his home. This is /their/ home, together, and maybe some parts of it are cobbled together, maybe some parts don't always fit the way they're supposed to but--
This is /theirs/. Chuuya is here to /stay/, despite everything that
tried to break them apart, despite all the mistakes they've /both/ made, despite all the obstacles and pitfalls and places where they /could/ have failed--
And still, Dazai gets to have this. He gets to /keep/ Chuuya and cherish him and /love/ him and make a home with him.
It's
And still, Dazai gets to have this. He gets to /keep/ Chuuya and cherish him and /love/ him and make a home with him.
It's
more than he ever /dreamed/ of, because in every thought Dazai ever had of the /end/ of his life, he was always /alone/.
And now, he's /not/.)
"What made you want to cook?" Dazai eventually asks, his chin propped up on the heel of his hand. He's been staring at Chuuya with
And now, he's /not/.)
"What made you want to cook?" Dazai eventually asks, his chin propped up on the heel of his hand. He's been staring at Chuuya with
huge eyes, like he's doing something /amazing/ instead of throwing together a memorized meal.
"Well," Chuuya says, portioning out two bowls of rice, "You're always doing something nice for /me/, and I wanted to do something nice for you."
He sees Dazai's eyes widen slightly,
"Well," Chuuya says, portioning out two bowls of rice, "You're always doing something nice for /me/, and I wanted to do something nice for you."
He sees Dazai's eyes widen slightly,
and he takes this chance to /strike/, lowering his voice into something he /hopes/ is seductive. "Take care of you, like you take care of /me/."
Now, that /could/ be taken as innocent, so he accents the innuendo by leaning /forward/ over the counter until his shirt is riding up
Now, that /could/ be taken as innocent, so he accents the innuendo by leaning /forward/ over the counter until his shirt is riding up
over his hips and exposing the black criss-crossing straps over his lower back, arching his spine /just/ enough to make it /tempting/--
He can practically /feel/ Dazai's sharp inhale, victory coursing through him like a drug.
When he's done adding the vegetables to the bowls,
He can practically /feel/ Dazai's sharp inhale, victory coursing through him like a drug.
When he's done adding the vegetables to the bowls,
he drops back down onto his heels, the hint of lingerie underneath once again being hidden away.
When he sneaks a look at Dazai,the man still hasn't moved--
But his /posture/ has changed. Gone is the straight-backed, alert and /adorable/ boyfriend, to be replaced by the /siren/
When he sneaks a look at Dazai,the man still hasn't moved--
But his /posture/ has changed. Gone is the straight-backed, alert and /adorable/ boyfriend, to be replaced by the /siren/
that lives in his blood. He's leaning back against the back of his chair, effortlessly and powerfully built, a lethal jungle cat lounging in it's territory.
His eyes have darkened, focused on Chuuya with predatory intensity. When he sees him looking, he licks his bottom lip in
His eyes have darkened, focused on Chuuya with predatory intensity. When he sees him looking, he licks his bottom lip in
one long, /teasing/ slide--
And then smiles, sharp and knowing. He's caught onto the plan now, probably, and now he's playing /with/ him.
The game is /on/ now. Who's going to win?
"Oh, but /sweetheart/," Dazai says, honey-sweet, "You know I like taking care of you."
Again,
And then smiles, sharp and knowing. He's caught onto the plan now, probably, and now he's playing /with/ him.
The game is /on/ now. Who's going to win?
"Oh, but /sweetheart/," Dazai says, honey-sweet, "You know I like taking care of you."
Again,
the words /themselves/ could be innocent, but its the /tone/ he uses to say them, the /same/ tone he uses in /bed/, low and /rough/ that makes Chuuya's body flash heatedly with muscle-memory, remembering what the voice sounded like in his /ear/, in his mouth, on his /skin/--
He
He
smiles, covering up the ball of heat beginning to gather in his belly. "I know," he murmurs, because he /does/ know, Dazai's proven that many times over. "But I want to take care of you /too/, you know? Sometimes it's nice to switch things up."
That earns him an arch of a dark
That earns him an arch of a dark
eyebrow. "Is that what you want? To /switch/ things up?"
Suddenly, Chuuya doesn't feel like they're talking about /cooking/ anymore.
Giving himself a moment to think about his response, Chuuya brings the bowls over to the table. He sets one in front of Dazai, his smile
Suddenly, Chuuya doesn't feel like they're talking about /cooking/ anymore.
Giving himself a moment to think about his response, Chuuya brings the bowls over to the table. He sets one in front of Dazai, his smile
softening at the word of thanks he gets in response.
He settles on the other side of the table with his own bowl, waiting somewhat nervously as Dazai picks up his chopsticks to take his first bite. He's not a /chef/ or anything, and any restaurant has better food than this but
He settles on the other side of the table with his own bowl, waiting somewhat nervously as Dazai picks up his chopsticks to take his first bite. He's not a /chef/ or anything, and any restaurant has better food than this but
he still wants him to /like/ it.
It's his first time cooking for a /boyfriend/. The experience is more nerve-wracking than he thought it'd be.
Dazai's first bite is punctuated by a surprise noise of shock and enjoyment, and it's closely followed by a second bite. It seems like
It's his first time cooking for a /boyfriend/. The experience is more nerve-wracking than he thought it'd be.
Dazai's first bite is punctuated by a surprise noise of shock and enjoyment, and it's closely followed by a second bite. It seems like
he likes it, based on how /eagerly/ he's digging in.
The sight makes Chuuya relax again, confidence resurfacing. "Mm," he hums, taking a bite of his own, "It'd be nice /sometimes/, don't you think? Letting me do all the work, letting me take care of /you/. You wouldn't have to
The sight makes Chuuya relax again, confidence resurfacing. "Mm," he hums, taking a bite of his own, "It'd be nice /sometimes/, don't you think? Letting me do all the work, letting me take care of /you/. You wouldn't have to
think or worry about a /thing/."
Not for the first time, Chuuya is grateful for how short the table is. It means he doesn't have to slouch /too/ much when he reaches under the table with his foot, his socked toes finding Dazai's ankle under the table.
He keeps his expression
Not for the first time, Chuuya is grateful for how short the table is. It means he doesn't have to slouch /too/ much when he reaches under the table with his foot, his socked toes finding Dazai's ankle under the table.
He keeps his expression
open and innocent, his gaze lightly fixed on Dazai's face while he takes another bite. Playing /innocent/ while his foot is slowly dragging up the length of his shin underneath the table, a teasing climb upwards.
Dazai shifts in his chair, his knees spreading /wider/ in clear
Dazai shifts in his chair, his knees spreading /wider/ in clear
invitation. He even pushes his leg forward into his touch, silently asking for /more/. "That /does/ sound nice," he agrees, his eating slowing down now that Chuuya is stirring his /other/ appetites. "Though, I don't think it'd be as easy as you make it sound."
That's fair. Being
That's fair. Being
with Dazai has done /wonders/ for his confidence, and he's certainly sexually experienced by now--
But assuming /he/ can make Dazai mindless might be shooting past confident and going into /cocky/. He can rile him up, can make him /needy/, but mindless is another step after
But assuming /he/ can make Dazai mindless might be shooting past confident and going into /cocky/. He can rile him up, can make him /needy/, but mindless is another step after
/that/, but--
"I'm a fast learner," Chuuya throws out there with a charming grin. By now, his foot has found Dazai's knee and is beginning the agonizingly slow slide /inwards/.
The muscles in Dazai's thigh are tense, clenching in intervals. He can't wait to feel them under his
"I'm a fast learner," Chuuya throws out there with a charming grin. By now, his foot has found Dazai's knee and is beginning the agonizingly slow slide /inwards/.
The muscles in Dazai's thigh are tense, clenching in intervals. He can't wait to feel them under his
hands again, get to touch and feel and /taste/ him.
Dazai arches an eyebrow at him, his expression curious and smug. He doesn’t seem /daunted/ by the subtle conversation at all, which is good news in Chuuya’s eyes. Maybe once he /really/ brings up the idea of fucking /him/,
Dazai arches an eyebrow at him, his expression curious and smug. He doesn’t seem /daunted/ by the subtle conversation at all, which is good news in Chuuya’s eyes. Maybe once he /really/ brings up the idea of fucking /him/,
the conversation will go well.
They’re edging on it /now/, but it’s not clear enough. After their /last/ issues with communication, Chuuya is determined to keep every important conversation blindingly clear and upfront. No subtle understandings, no implications, no reading
They’re edging on it /now/, but it’s not clear enough. After their /last/ issues with communication, Chuuya is determined to keep every important conversation blindingly clear and upfront. No subtle understandings, no implications, no reading
between the lines, no /assumptions/.
It’s a promise that they /both/ made, and while this conversation is /fun/ and obviously building them both up—
It’s nothing certain yet. And Chuuya has something /else/ on his mind.
Dazai tilts his head. “Is that what you wanted to do
It’s a promise that they /both/ made, and while this conversation is /fun/ and obviously building them both up—
It’s nothing certain yet. And Chuuya has something /else/ on his mind.
Dazai tilts his head. “Is that what you wanted to do
tonight?”
“No,” Chuuya hums, his foot sliding inwards all the way and /finally/ pressing the heel of his foot against Dazai’s crotch. Like always, he’s /intoxicatingly/ warm. “Tonight I was thinking of… something /else/.”
He accentuates his words by flexing his toes against
“No,” Chuuya hums, his foot sliding inwards all the way and /finally/ pressing the heel of his foot against Dazai’s crotch. Like always, he’s /intoxicatingly/ warm. “Tonight I was thinking of… something /else/.”
He accentuates his words by flexing his toes against
the slight bulge in Dazai’s pants, grinning at the stirring of interest he can feel there. He’s /winning/, and it feels /so/ good to be wanted /back/ so easily.
Dazai’s free hand drops down, long fingers encircling his ankle. He doesn’t pull him in or push him away, he just—
Dazai’s free hand drops down, long fingers encircling his ankle. He doesn’t pull him in or push him away, he just—
Holds him there, in place, thumb rubbing roughly over the slender bones of his ankle, tracing the outline of his tendons. He has a ring on his index finger that presses warmly against his skin.
“Oh? What /did/ you have in mind then?” Dazai asks, his voice incredibly calm and
“Oh? What /did/ you have in mind then?” Dazai asks, his voice incredibly calm and
collected for how much /heat/ is pouring off his body, for how the very tips of his fingers are tracing swirling patterns over his ankle, so light that Chuuya can't help the reflexive shiver.
And Chuuya--
He's had /enough/ of teasing and building up. Now that he /knows/, very
And Chuuya--
He's had /enough/ of teasing and building up. Now that he /knows/, very
well, how /good/ Dazai can fuck him, he just wants to skip to the best parts after over a /month/ without it. He can enjoy the teasing on a different day, when he's not practically squirming just from fingers sliding slowly up his calf and the feeling of Dazai hardening against
the ball of his foot.
Playing is /fun/, but he spent the last /week/ fantasizing about sex, spent the /entire/ day thinking about what would happen /tonight/, got himself pretty and /dressed/ up, and he /knows/ what he wants.
And now, he is /not/ too shy to go after what he
Playing is /fun/, but he spent the last /week/ fantasizing about sex, spent the /entire/ day thinking about what would happen /tonight/, got himself pretty and /dressed/ up, and he /knows/ what he wants.
And now, he is /not/ too shy to go after what he
wants. Not anymore, not /ever/ again.
He lifts his chin, giving Dazai his /sultriest/ look. "I was /thinking/ you finish eating and then take me upstairs, and I could show you what I'm wearing /underneath/ my clothes," he says, flashing him a smile. "I think you'll like it--
He lifts his chin, giving Dazai his /sultriest/ look. "I was /thinking/ you finish eating and then take me upstairs, and I could show you what I'm wearing /underneath/ my clothes," he says, flashing him a smile. "I think you'll like it--
after all, you bought it for me."
Dazai's /always/ had a thing for buying him things, seeing him in them and /fucking/ him in them. It's gone unmentioned, but Chuuya picked up on how /eager/ he got whenever he was wearing something Dazai bought for him.
The memories of the
Dazai's /always/ had a thing for buying him things, seeing him in them and /fucking/ him in them. It's gone unmentioned, but Chuuya picked up on how /eager/ he got whenever he was wearing something Dazai bought for him.
The memories of the
/last/ time Chuuya dressed up for him-- all white lingerie, that one lacier and /softer/, collar around his neck and leash at the base of his throat-- makes another flare of heat curl enticingly in his stomach.
Dazai's eyes go so dark they might as well be /black/, fixed on his
Dazai's eyes go so dark they might as well be /black/, fixed on his
face with devilish intensity. His hand tightens on his ankle, inadvertently dragging him /in/, his foot pressing harder against the bulge in his pants.
Chuuya can actually /feel/ the responding throb of his erection, and he instinctively lips his lips, wanting it so bad it
Chuuya can actually /feel/ the responding throb of his erection, and he instinctively lips his lips, wanting it so bad it
almost /hurts/--
That seems to be the breaking point for Dazai.
In the next moment, his half-eaten bowl of food-- it's the /least/ Chuuya has ever seen him eat-- gets shoved away. His chair makes a screeching sound when he pushes away from the table, letting go of his ankle so
That seems to be the breaking point for Dazai.
In the next moment, his half-eaten bowl of food-- it's the /least/ Chuuya has ever seen him eat-- gets shoved away. His chair makes a screeching sound when he pushes away from the table, letting go of his ankle so
he can stand.
He's /deliciously/ tall as he rounds the table, and it's moments like these that remind Chuuya of it. He doesn't know if he wants to be /over/ Dazai or /under/ him, taken over by him--
He barely has enough time to bring his legs back to himself and twist in his
He's /deliciously/ tall as he rounds the table, and it's moments like these that remind Chuuya of it. He doesn't know if he wants to be /over/ Dazai or /under/ him, taken over by him--
He barely has enough time to bring his legs back to himself and twist in his
chair to face him before Dazai is bearing down on him and reaching down to pull him up into his arms.
Chuuya jumps to assist, wrapping his legs around Dazai's waist and squeezing him tight. Their hips press together briefly, the heat and firmness there prompting a shuddering
Chuuya jumps to assist, wrapping his legs around Dazai's waist and squeezing him tight. Their hips press together briefly, the heat and firmness there prompting a shuddering
breath of desire from him before he's being hoisted higher into Dazai's arms.
He /almost/ protests, because he wants to /feel/ him, but then his mouth is being covered with a deep, hungry kiss.
Fingers sliding into dark hair, Chuuya makes a delighted noise in the back of his
He /almost/ protests, because he wants to /feel/ him, but then his mouth is being covered with a deep, hungry kiss.
Fingers sliding into dark hair, Chuuya makes a delighted noise in the back of his
throat.
Ever since their /mutual/ confessions, ever since they became /committed/ to each other, their kisses have had a certain /depth/ that they didn't have before. Before, it was mostly /lust/ backed by a burgeoning affection and fondness, both of them exploring just where
Ever since their /mutual/ confessions, ever since they became /committed/ to each other, their kisses have had a certain /depth/ that they didn't have before. Before, it was mostly /lust/ backed by a burgeoning affection and fondness, both of them exploring just where
the boundaries of their relationship were.
Now that they /know/, it's deeper, somehow. More /loving/, more knowing, more /emotional/. Dazai knows /exactly/ how he likes to be kissed, has kissed him hundreds of times at any time of the day, knows every weakness of his and uses
Now that they /know/, it's deeper, somehow. More /loving/, more knowing, more /emotional/. Dazai knows /exactly/ how he likes to be kissed, has kissed him hundreds of times at any time of the day, knows every weakness of his and uses
them in his favor.
And just as much as Dazai knows him, Chuuya knows /Dazai/. Knows how he looks at obscene hours of the morning, eyes tired and hair crazy, knows how /hurt/ he once was and how much /better/ he's gotten, knows how /gently/ he's /always/ treated him even though
And just as much as Dazai knows him, Chuuya knows /Dazai/. Knows how he looks at obscene hours of the morning, eyes tired and hair crazy, knows how /hurt/ he once was and how much /better/ he's gotten, knows how /gently/ he's /always/ treated him even though
kindness has never been something that was taught to him.
Kindness is something that he had to /learn/, and the fact that he's been /consistently/ respectful of Chuuya and always made sure that he was /comfortable/ and felt /safe/--
It makes Chuuya's heart /soar/. Dazai isn't
Kindness is something that he had to /learn/, and the fact that he's been /consistently/ respectful of Chuuya and always made sure that he was /comfortable/ and felt /safe/--
It makes Chuuya's heart /soar/. Dazai isn't
perfect, they both know that, but he /tries/.
Chuuya can see that clearly now, and it makes every instance of /love/ and kindness that much sweeter. Makes every kiss a little /better/ than the last one, a harmonic growing between them that only grows more /meaningful/ as they
Chuuya can see that clearly now, and it makes every instance of /love/ and kindness that much sweeter. Makes every kiss a little /better/ than the last one, a harmonic growing between them that only grows more /meaningful/ as they
practice.
He barely even registers the fact that Dazai is carrying him upstairs now, too caught up in the whirlwind of emotion, too focused on kissing him with a desperation that feels like /reunion/.
He does notice when Dazai breaks the kiss for a fraction of a second, just
He barely even registers the fact that Dazai is carrying him upstairs now, too caught up in the whirlwind of emotion, too focused on kissing him with a desperation that feels like /reunion/.
He does notice when Dazai breaks the kiss for a fraction of a second, just
long enough to mutter, "No, Yoko," to the dogs when they try to follow them into the room. Then he's back again,like he can't bear to be separated for even a moment.
The door to their bedroom gets kicked shut behind them, and Chuuya is too preoccupied to even /care/ about Yoko's
The door to their bedroom gets kicked shut behind them, and Chuuya is too preoccupied to even /care/ about Yoko's
disgruntled whine when she realizes she's locked out.
His back meets the bed, and his tight grip around Dazai's waist ensures he follows him down, pressing him into the mattress.
His hands move from supporting Chuuya's weight under his thighs to braced near his head, holding
His back meets the bed, and his tight grip around Dazai's waist ensures he follows him down, pressing him into the mattress.
His hands move from supporting Chuuya's weight under his thighs to braced near his head, holding
most of his weight up. His hips end up wedged between Chuuya's thighs, erection pressed against his ass.
He's /boiling/ hot and comfortingly heavy above him, exactly like he remembers, /exactly/ what Chuuya's been fantasizing about for the last few weeks. He can't help himself,
He's /boiling/ hot and comfortingly heavy above him, exactly like he remembers, /exactly/ what Chuuya's been fantasizing about for the last few weeks. He can't help himself,
rolling his hips down against his clothed cock and tightening his legs.
The breath gets knocked out of him when Dazai meets him halfway, hips rocking /up/ to increase the force. Heat explodes through him like a firestorm, making him dizzy.
Dazai goes down on one elbow, the
The breath gets knocked out of him when Dazai meets him halfway, hips rocking /up/ to increase the force. Heat explodes through him like a firestorm, making him dizzy.
Dazai goes down on one elbow, the
length of his body pressed against his own, and he can /feel/ the effort in his body as Dazai rocks forward again, slowly starting up a /rhythm/--
There's just one tiny problem.
"Wait--" Chuuya gasps, pulling away. He doesn't have much room to /move/, but the way Dazai
There's just one tiny problem.
"Wait--" Chuuya gasps, pulling away. He doesn't have much room to /move/, but the way Dazai
immediately goes still on top of him is heartwarming.
"What?" Dazai murmurs into the meager space between them, his breath humid and exciting, and Chuuya is /this/ close to saying 'fuck it, just keep kissing me'--
"You gotta kick him out," Chuuya says, tilting his head to where
"What?" Dazai murmurs into the meager space between them, his breath humid and exciting, and Chuuya is /this/ close to saying 'fuck it, just keep kissing me'--
"You gotta kick him out," Chuuya says, tilting his head to where
Baki is stretched out along the bed and glaring at them disgruntledly for interrupting his nap.
Dazai pauses, so close that Chuuya can feel the smile start to form on his face. "Seriously?"
"/Yeah/, seriously," he says, digging his knees into his side. "We can't /fuck/ while
Dazai pauses, so close that Chuuya can feel the smile start to form on his face. "Seriously?"
"/Yeah/, seriously," he says, digging his knees into his side. "We can't /fuck/ while
he’s in here. I don’t want him to /watch/, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to watch /either/.”
There’s a moments pause, where Chuuya is /sure/ Dazai is holding back laughter—
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, fond, dropping one last kiss on his lips before pulling off of him.
Baki
There’s a moments pause, where Chuuya is /sure/ Dazai is holding back laughter—
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, fond, dropping one last kiss on his lips before pulling off of him.
Baki
watches him approach warily.
“Come on, little guy,” Dazai says cheerfully, sliding his hands underneath his body. “You heard your father— you’re getting evicted.”
Baki uses his main, most /powerful/ defense against him—
Which is going completely limp and yowling mournfully.
“Come on, little guy,” Dazai says cheerfully, sliding his hands underneath his body. “You heard your father— you’re getting evicted.”
Baki uses his main, most /powerful/ defense against him—
Which is going completely limp and yowling mournfully.
“Don’t cry about it. Take it up with management, I’m just following orders,” Dazai tells the cat—who sounds like he’s being /assaulted/, not gently carried out of the room like a baby— before opening the door.
Yoko’s snout pushes through the gap. Dazai drops Baki on her face,
Yoko’s snout pushes through the gap. Dazai drops Baki on her face,
therefore pushing her back, and quickly closes the door before any of the animals can push their way back in.
(Outside, Yoko and Baki stare at eachother for a /long/ time, both of them startled, before eventually Baki decides she makes a nice enough scritching post and rubs up
(Outside, Yoko and Baki stare at eachother for a /long/ time, both of them startled, before eventually Baki decides she makes a nice enough scritching post and rubs up
against her front legs with a quiet purr.)
“It’s like having kids,” Dazai mutters, locking the door behind him because Baki has this /habit/ of reaching up and pulling on the knobs until he somehow manages to open the door.
That pulls a laugh out of Chuuya, his chest warming
“It’s like having kids,” Dazai mutters, locking the door behind him because Baki has this /habit/ of reaching up and pulling on the knobs until he somehow manages to open the door.
That pulls a laugh out of Chuuya, his chest warming
at the reminder at how much of a little /family/ they’ve built together.
(A family that is not /quite/ done growing yet, because there is still room for /one/ more person.)
When Dazai makes his way back over to the bed, the frantic energy of the mood has cooled a little.
(A family that is not /quite/ done growing yet, because there is still room for /one/ more person.)
When Dazai makes his way back over to the bed, the frantic energy of the mood has cooled a little.
It’s not /gone/, but it’s given Chuuya a moment to think and collect himself. It’s given him a moment to wiggle closer to the middle of the bed, so he’s not half-hanging off the end of it awkwardly.
Dazai pauses at the edge of the bed, heated gaze raking over his body. Taking
Dazai pauses at the edge of the bed, heated gaze raking over his body. Taking
in the arch of his body, how rumpled his clothes are, the peak of the straps around his thighs showing from beneath his shorts.
Eager, Chuuya’s hand falls to his pants, reaching for the button to pop it open so he can wiggle out of them—
“No,” Dazai murmurs, reaching for his
Eager, Chuuya’s hand falls to his pants, reaching for the button to pop it open so he can wiggle out of them—
“No,” Dazai murmurs, reaching for his
ankle again and tugging his leg closer to him. “Let me?”
His voice is /filled/ with heat and temptation, a prelude to the things that will happen /soon/. Chuuya nods, an electric shiver trembling down his spine.
His skin feels hypersensitive, every slight brush of Dazai’s
His voice is /filled/ with heat and temptation, a prelude to the things that will happen /soon/. Chuuya nods, an electric shiver trembling down his spine.
His skin feels hypersensitive, every slight brush of Dazai’s
fingers over his skin feeling like hot electricity, goosebumps rising up on his leg.
The first piece of clothing to go is Chuuya’s right sock. Dazai’s finger hooks in it so he can peel it off slowly, his other hand cupping his lower calf to keep his leg high in the air.
The
The first piece of clothing to go is Chuuya’s right sock. Dazai’s finger hooks in it so he can peel it off slowly, his other hand cupping his lower calf to keep his leg high in the air.
The
sock gets tossed to the floor, immediately forgotten in favor of Dazai leaning forward.
His lips find his ankle, tracing over the slender fragility of it, teeth scraping occasionally over the bone in a way that makes Chuuya twitch. It's not /painful/-- it's /worshipful/,
His lips find his ankle, tracing over the slender fragility of it, teeth scraping occasionally over the bone in a way that makes Chuuya twitch. It's not /painful/-- it's /worshipful/,
tasting everything that Chuuya has to offer, nibbling indulgently as he moves up, up, up.
Before, he never would have classified his lower legs as /sensitive/, but there's something so /electric/ about the way his mouth slides over his skin, taking his time to find every
Before, he never would have classified his lower legs as /sensitive/, but there's something so /electric/ about the way his mouth slides over his skin, taking his time to find every
interesting spot and lavishing it with attention.
There's a scar on his shin that Chuuya got from a bike when he was a kid, and Dazai pauses there for a long moment, sealing his mouth around it to /suck/, tongue sliding over his skin indulgently.
A freckle closer to his knee
There's a scar on his shin that Chuuya got from a bike when he was a kid, and Dazai pauses there for a long moment, sealing his mouth around it to /suck/, tongue sliding over his skin indulgently.
A freckle closer to his knee
gains Dazai's attention for a moment, and Chuuya feels like he's being built up, tension slowly winding him tight with every slow slide of Dazai's tongue, every flick of his piercing over his skin.
Then his mouth is coasting over his knee, teeth scraping over the joint like he's
Then his mouth is coasting over his knee, teeth scraping over the joint like he's
debating on /eating/ him, only to settle on a spot a little higher up and slightly inwards, sucking on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh until it's pulsing in time.
Sex is /usually/ more fast-paced between them. Driven by frantic desperation and a frantic need for more,
Sex is /usually/ more fast-paced between them. Driven by frantic desperation and a frantic need for more,
/now/. Chuuya isn't ashamed to admit that /he's/ usually the one who pushes the pace because he's /addicted/ to the pleasure Dazai can give him--
But this is nice, he decides through a haze of heat, reaching down to slide one hand into Dazai's hair. It's not /rushed/, and he can
But this is nice, he decides through a haze of heat, reaching down to slide one hand into Dazai's hair. It's not /rushed/, and he can
enjoy every second of Dazai's mouth slowly climbing upwards. There's no risk of being /caught/, there's nowhere they have to go, there's nothing /else/ they have to do.
He can just lay here, affectionately running his hands through his hair over and over and over again, and
He can just lay here, affectionately running his hands through his hair over and over and over again, and
enjoy the slowly building tension and /know/, without a shadow of a doubt, that he's going to be taken care of.
When Dazai reaches the top of his thigh, his hand slides up from his calf to hook under his knee and push his leg open wider. He moves forward, one knee sinking into
When Dazai reaches the top of his thigh, his hand slides up from his calf to hook under his knee and push his leg open wider. He moves forward, one knee sinking into
the bed with his free hand bracing his weight, just as his mouth finds the lowermost strap wrapped around his thigh. He seals his mouth over it, a fraction of an inch below his shorts, slipping his tongue underneath the strap to tease at the skin beneath.
The suction on his
The suction on his
inner thigh, so /close/ to where he wants it, so /close/ to where his erection is straining against the zipper of his shorts, makes Chuuya squirm, panting. His entire leg feels tingly, made hyper-sensitive by the worshipful devotion Dazai gave his skin, and he wants that mouth
/everywhere/. Wants it on his chest, on his /neck/, on his mouth sharing their breaths, on his /cock/.
He wants every inch of himself to be claimed by Dazai, wants to do the same in reverse, because they /belong/ to each other. Utterly and completely.
A tug on Dazai's hair
He wants every inch of himself to be claimed by Dazai, wants to do the same in reverse, because they /belong/ to each other. Utterly and completely.
A tug on Dazai's hair
earns him a smirk pressed against his skin, a feeling that makes him shiver in response.
Letting go of his thigh with a wet pop, Dazai moves upward again, hot breath washing over the fabric of his shorts. His lips brush over the bulge of his erection trapped behind his zipper,
Letting go of his thigh with a wet pop, Dazai moves upward again, hot breath washing over the fabric of his shorts. His lips brush over the bulge of his erection trapped behind his zipper,
the pressure so light that it's a /tease/ that makes Chuuya shudder in reaction, hands tightening in his hair.
His teeth find the button of his shorts, somehow managing to tug on it in exactly the right way that it comes undone. Chuuya's shirt has ridden up, so he can feel his
His teeth find the button of his shorts, somehow managing to tug on it in exactly the right way that it comes undone. Chuuya's shirt has ridden up, so he can feel his
breath on his lower stomach as Dazai noses the fabric aside so he can catch the zipper underneath with his teeth.
Chuuya holds his breath, insanely turned on at the casual display of /skill/ and the pressure against his trapped erection as Dazai /agonizingly/ slowly pulls down
Chuuya holds his breath, insanely turned on at the casual display of /skill/ and the pressure against his trapped erection as Dazai /agonizingly/ slowly pulls down
his zipper.
By the time Dazai gets to the end, Chuuya is squirming unconsciously, his breath shuddering out every time he presses a little /harder/ against his erection, giving him a /taste/ of friction but with no relief. Building him up slowly, bit by bit, winding him tighter
By the time Dazai gets to the end, Chuuya is squirming unconsciously, his breath shuddering out every time he presses a little /harder/ against his erection, giving him a /taste/ of friction but with no relief. Building him up slowly, bit by bit, winding him tighter
around his clever fingers and even more skillful tongue.
He's half-hoping that Dazai will just lean up and yank the shorts off of him so he can get to the lacy lingerie underneath--
But instead, Dazai starts moving down again, this time worshipping attention on his other leg.
He's half-hoping that Dazai will just lean up and yank the shorts off of him so he can get to the lacy lingerie underneath--
But instead, Dazai starts moving down again, this time worshipping attention on his other leg.
This one is even /more/ exciting, because his hands have reached up and hooked in the waistband of his shorts, and every time he moves farther down, he tugs his pants down a little further.
The same spot on his inner thigh gets a matching hickey to the other side, twin points of
The same spot on his inner thigh gets a matching hickey to the other side, twin points of
throbbing sensuality that just adds to the gathering heat in his belly. Another small scar on his knee has the years-ago phantom pain sucked away, shorts tugged halfway down his thighs. A scraping path of teeth and tongue down his shin that ends up with another bite on his
ankle and his shorts around his shins.
Then Dazai is leaning back, sliding his pants off the rest of the way and taking his remaining sock off in one smooth motion. And then he just--
/Stays/ there, taking in the sight of him, gaze roaming over his body like a physical weight.
Then Dazai is leaning back, sliding his pants off the rest of the way and taking his remaining sock off in one smooth motion. And then he just--
/Stays/ there, taking in the sight of him, gaze roaming over his body like a physical weight.
Touching on every piece of strap and lace on his body-- it's a two piece originally, but Chuuya skipped the upper half today, leaving just his lower body up to his waist and down to his thighs wrapped up prettily in crisscrossing straps, his erection covered by a thin panel of
lace.
Slightly impatient, Chuuya reaches down to tug his own shirt off. He wants /skin/ contact, wants every part of him touching every part of Dazai, and he's not patient enough to wait for him to slowly slide it off like he did his shorts.
He arches his back alluringly,
Slightly impatient, Chuuya reaches down to tug his own shirt off. He wants /skin/ contact, wants every part of him touching every part of Dazai, and he's not patient enough to wait for him to slowly slide it off like he did his shorts.
He arches his back alluringly,
hooking one of his knees around Dazai's hip to tug him in, silently /begging/ him to come down here again, touch him, taste him, /love/ him, /please/--
"God," Dazai croaks, sounding /struck/. His palm presses against his thigh, fingers digging in just enough to let Chuuya know
"God," Dazai croaks, sounding /struck/. His palm presses against his thigh, fingers digging in just enough to let Chuuya know
that his restraint is /thinning/. "You are /so/ fucking beautiful."
Despite himself, Chuuya flushes a bit, somehow still unused to receiving genuine, unconscious compliments like /that/.
But Dazai still doesn't move, like he's /stuck/ admiring him, and Chuuya is /impatient/--
Despite himself, Chuuya flushes a bit, somehow still unused to receiving genuine, unconscious compliments like /that/.
But Dazai still doesn't move, like he's /stuck/ admiring him, and Chuuya is /impatient/--
So he hooks his other leg around Dazai's waist, and with one powerful twist of his body, he manages to smoothly reverse their positions.
Dazai lands heavily on his back on the bed, eyes so wide with surprise that Chuuya preens with pride,smiling down at him victoriously from his
Dazai lands heavily on his back on the bed, eyes so wide with surprise that Chuuya preens with pride,smiling down at him victoriously from his
perch straddling his lap.
"My turn," Chuuya tells him breathlessly, immediately diving down to kiss him.
It's full of heat and need, the feeling of Dazai warm and solid and /hard/ beneath him driving Chuuya to deepen the kiss instantly. Dazai opens up for him with a single nip
"My turn," Chuuya tells him breathlessly, immediately diving down to kiss him.
It's full of heat and need, the feeling of Dazai warm and solid and /hard/ beneath him driving Chuuya to deepen the kiss instantly. Dazai opens up for him with a single nip
on his bottom lip,and then Chuuya's tongue is pushing inside, tracing the outline of his teeth.
The metal ball of his tongue piercing drags against the bottom of his tongue when Dazai meets him halfway, making him shudder in response.All he can feel, all he can /taste/ is Dazai,
The metal ball of his tongue piercing drags against the bottom of his tongue when Dazai meets him halfway, making him shudder in response.All he can feel, all he can /taste/ is Dazai,
from the very tips of his toes to the very breath in his lungs.
Before he can get /too/ distracted-- because feeling Dazai's erection under his mostly-bare ass is already a distracting temptation enough-- he breaks the kiss in favor of sliding to the side, lavishing Dazai's
Before he can get /too/ distracted-- because feeling Dazai's erection under his mostly-bare ass is already a distracting temptation enough-- he breaks the kiss in favor of sliding to the side, lavishing Dazai's
jawline with a series of kisses.
There's a spot, just under the bolt of his jaw, that Dazai /loves/, and Chuuya zeroes in on it, sucking until he's /sure/ there will be a mark left over, and sinking his teeth into sensitive skin until he can feel him twitching beneath him.
Then
There's a spot, just under the bolt of his jaw, that Dazai /loves/, and Chuuya zeroes in on it, sucking until he's /sure/ there will be a mark left over, and sinking his teeth into sensitive skin until he can feel him twitching beneath him.
Then
he's steadily moving down his neck, peppering his skin with bites because Dazai /loves/ being bitten, even if he never outright admitted to it. He's not as slow as Dazai was, because he can feel his hips subtly rocking up to meet him and it's driving him /crazy/, but he does take
the time to find all his favorite spots and briefly lavish them with attention.
Dazai's shirt gets in the way eventually, and while Chuuya is skilled or confident enough to try unbuttoning it with his teeth, he does reach up and unbutton it slowly, pausing between each button
Dazai's shirt gets in the way eventually, and while Chuuya is skilled or confident enough to try unbuttoning it with his teeth, he does reach up and unbutton it slowly, pausing between each button
to lavish the revealed skin of his chest with attention, peppering sucking bites over his body until little marks appear in his wake.
He has to shift his position when he gets lower, rising up on his knees to scoot backwards. Dazai’s stomach, etched with muscle, flexes in
He has to shift his position when he gets lower, rising up on his knees to scoot backwards. Dazai’s stomach, etched with muscle, flexes in
reaction, a temptation that Chuuya /can’t/ ignore.
He slides his tongue over the indents of his hips, steadily making his way inwards and down to the short trail of hair peaking out from the waist of Dazai’s pants. His hands come up, bracing his weight over his hips and dipping
He slides his tongue over the indents of his hips, steadily making his way inwards and down to the short trail of hair peaking out from the waist of Dazai’s pants. His hands come up, bracing his weight over his hips and dipping
into his waistband to tug on his pants.
And now, with the bulge of Dazai’s erection only an inch from his face, Chuuya decides to pay /back/ all the teasing Dazai had just done to him.
He looks up, thrilling when he sees that Dazai is already looking /down/ at him, eyes nearly
And now, with the bulge of Dazai’s erection only an inch from his face, Chuuya decides to pay /back/ all the teasing Dazai had just done to him.
He looks up, thrilling when he sees that Dazai is already looking /down/ at him, eyes nearly
glowing with heat in the relative darkness of the room.
Letting his eyes fall into that half-lidded look he always gets when he’s got a mouthful of cock, Chuuya maintains searing eye contact as he rolls his tongue out and /slowly/ licks the length of Dazai’s clothed erection.
Letting his eyes fall into that half-lidded look he always gets when he’s got a mouthful of cock, Chuuya maintains searing eye contact as he rolls his tongue out and /slowly/ licks the length of Dazai’s clothed erection.
He can feel it /throb/ in reaction under his tongue, burning hot even through the barrier of cloth.
It’s a victory in itself to see how /easily/ he can affect Dazai, how easy it is to fall into the natural rhythm of give and take, how delicious pleasure tastes on his tongue.
It’s a victory in itself to see how /easily/ he can affect Dazai, how easy it is to fall into the natural rhythm of give and take, how delicious pleasure tastes on his tongue.
It's /thrilling/, it makes sensual confidence bubble up inside him that makes it so /easy/ to hurriedly pop open the button of Dazai's jeans and carefully tug down the zipper.
For once, Dazai is /actually/ wearing underwear, which is partly a hinderance but also kind of /cute/.
For once, Dazai is /actually/ wearing underwear, which is partly a hinderance but also kind of /cute/.
Clearly he wasn't /expecting/ to be seduced, because if he /had/, he would've skipped wearing underwear.
Chuuya indulgently seals his mouth over the head of his cock over his underwear, roughly running over his tongue over the shape of him until the fabric is wet. At the same
Chuuya indulgently seals his mouth over the head of his cock over his underwear, roughly running over his tongue over the shape of him until the fabric is wet. At the same
he reaches up, hooking his fingers in the waistbands of his jeans and underwear and /slowly/ beginning to tug them down.
It's meant to be /payback/ for the way Dazai was teasingly stripping him earlier, but by the twitch of his erection and the pleasured hiss that comes from
It's meant to be /payback/ for the way Dazai was teasingly stripping him earlier, but by the twitch of his erection and the pleasured hiss that comes from
above, his boyfriend is /enjoying/ it.
A hand comes down, fingers threading through his hair. Usually, when Chuuya is sucking him off, the hand on his head is a /guiding/ force, subtly pushing him to where Dazai wants him to go and encouraging him to do what he likes.
Today,
A hand comes down, fingers threading through his hair. Usually, when Chuuya is sucking him off, the hand on his head is a /guiding/ force, subtly pushing him to where Dazai wants him to go and encouraging him to do what he likes.
Today,
though, his hand is unfailingly gentle. He doesn't push him or encourage him to do something /else/, he just strokes his hands through his hair like he can't /not/ touch him. Like he's enjoying this in all it's aspects, from the rough pleasure he gets from the friction to the
feel of him under his hands.
The subtle dynamic change-- wherein Chuuya has /more/ power and control than he usually does-- only drives him higher. It fuels him to stop playing with him, sitting back up so he can yank his pants and underwear off in the same motion.
Dazai helps
The subtle dynamic change-- wherein Chuuya has /more/ power and control than he usually does-- only drives him higher. It fuels him to stop playing with him, sitting back up so he can yank his pants and underwear off in the same motion.
Dazai helps
him out by wiggling his hips, raising his legs to make it easier to pull the fabric off, and kicking his foot when his jeans snag around his ankle.
Then he's /naked/, his open shirt pooling around his sides on the bed, erection lying hard and deliciously flushed against his
Then he's /naked/, his open shirt pooling around his sides on the bed, erection lying hard and deliciously flushed against his
stomach, so /enticing/ that Chuuya's mouth waters just from looking at, desperately wanting his hands on it, his /mouth/ on it, /inside/ him--
Before he can dive back down, hands are hooking under his arms and dragging him up again. He goes willingly, knees on either side of
Before he can dive back down, hands are hooking under his arms and dragging him up again. He goes willingly, knees on either side of
Dazai's hips as he gets pulled into another searing kiss.
This one is /hotter/ than the ones before it, a desperate tension building that makes Dazai pull his bottom lip into his mouth and suck on it until it's throbbing, a need that drives Chuuya to press forward with all his
This one is /hotter/ than the ones before it, a desperate tension building that makes Dazai pull his bottom lip into his mouth and suck on it until it's throbbing, a need that drives Chuuya to press forward with all his
weight to deepen the kiss.
As he settles further down, Dazai's erection slides against his ass and the underside of his cock through the lace. The friction and the /feel/ of him-- god, he's /so/ big, radiating delicious heat, that it makes his head spin with a heady combination
As he settles further down, Dazai's erection slides against his ass and the underside of his cock through the lace. The friction and the /feel/ of him-- god, he's /so/ big, radiating delicious heat, that it makes his head spin with a heady combination
of memories and /fantasy/, all the things Dazai /has/ done to him and all the things he /wants/ him to do swirling together intoxicatingly-- makes a shuddering breath escape him, one that Dazai drinks straight out of his mouth like wine.
Unable to help himself, he rocks his hips
Unable to help himself, he rocks his hips
down against him, shivering at the friction. He's throbbing in his own underwear, the lace adding a /hint/ of friction that just deepens the experience.
One of Dazai's hands slides down his body, tracing over the spots made previously sensitive. Thumbing at his nipples until
One of Dazai's hands slides down his body, tracing over the spots made previously sensitive. Thumbing at his nipples until
he's fighting the urge to squirm, brushing over his ribs with a care that he never had before, long fingers wrapping around one of his hips and encouraging him to pick up a longer, slower grinding rhythm.
He just /touches/ him, all over, filling his palms with the feel of his
He just /touches/ him, all over, filling his palms with the feel of his
skin, like he's rememorizing the shape of him. Like the new /connection/ between them gives so much more meaning to every touch and tremble, and Dazai is helpless to do anything but to /drown/ in it.
Chuuya doesn't know how long they spend there, endlessly kissing with their
Chuuya doesn't know how long they spend there, endlessly kissing with their
hands roaming. The urgency for /more/ is there at the back of his mind, but every kiss tempers it a little more. Makes it seem like he could spend /forever/ here and never miss a thing.
At some point, both of Dazai's hands find his lower back, fingers slipping underneath the
At some point, both of Dazai's hands find his lower back, fingers slipping underneath the
straps of the lingerie to knead at his ass.
The reminder of what will happen /next/ breaks Chuuya from the spell he was under. He pushes back into Dazai's hands,arching his spine enticingly as he pulls back slightly from the kiss.
"Please," he murmurs, almost directly into his
The reminder of what will happen /next/ breaks Chuuya from the spell he was under. He pushes back into Dazai's hands,arching his spine enticingly as he pulls back slightly from the kiss.
"Please," he murmurs, almost directly into his
mouth, one of the few things either of them have said during this entire scene.
It barely even feels like they /need/ words. They know each other so well that they don't /need/ to speak to satisfy each other completely.
From this close, Dazai's eyes look pitch black when they
It barely even feels like they /need/ words. They know each other so well that they don't /need/ to speak to satisfy each other completely.
From this close, Dazai's eyes look pitch black when they
open, a reflection of all of Chuuya's deepest desires. "I got you," he mutters back, using all those hard muscles to surge upwards and flip their positions again, dumping Chuuya on his back and bearing down over top of him.
Excitement crackles like lightning, and his thighs
Excitement crackles like lightning, and his thighs
spread wider automatically to fit his larger body in-between.He reaches for him, wanting another /kiss/--
Only for Dazai to evade him with a fondly smug smirk, straightening so he can reach into his bedside table. Through the course of their relationship, Dazai's /supplies/ have
Only for Dazai to evade him with a fondly smug smirk, straightening so he can reach into his bedside table. Through the course of their relationship, Dazai's /supplies/ have
somehow navigated from neatly organized drawers /under/ the bed to their favorite flavors and toys of the week being stored in his bedside table for easier access. Chuuya once pointed it out with a snicker, and Dazai just said it was because he couldn't /bear/ to be separated
for him that long, blowing raspberries against his skin until he laughed.
The /last/ toys they used were a succession of cherry flavored lubes and intimidatingly large plugs—Dazai said he wants to get his /hand/ inside him one day, which is an intimidating as it is /intriguing/—
The /last/ toys they used were a succession of cherry flavored lubes and intimidatingly large plugs—Dazai said he wants to get his /hand/ inside him one day, which is an intimidating as it is /intriguing/—
but the lube he pulls out this time isn’t either of those.
It’s still in a /box/, and while it doesn’t take Dazai long to open it up and dump the bottle into his hand, it’s just long enough for Chuuya to catch the title of ‘stimulating lube’ on the box before it’s tossed away.
It’s still in a /box/, and while it doesn’t take Dazai long to open it up and dump the bottle into his hand, it’s just long enough for Chuuya to catch the title of ‘stimulating lube’ on the box before it’s tossed away.
The sight of it makes Chuuya’s eyebrow quirk up, anticipation stirring hotly in his stomach. He didn’t even know ‘stimulating’ lube existed, and he wonders how it’s different than the warming one.
Somehow, Dazai always has something /new/ and exciting to show him, always
Somehow, Dazai always has something /new/ and exciting to show him, always
expanding his knowledge on sex, letting him explore and find new boundaries, new enjoyments, new /limits/. It's never /boring/, and just when Chuuya thinks he knows it all, Dazai brings up the idea of something /new/.
He's glad he didn't suggest a toy today though. Stimulating
He's glad he didn't suggest a toy today though. Stimulating
lube adds just /enough/ variety, while letting the main focus be /them/. Chuuya likes the toys, but today he just wants to revel in their /connection/.
Tossing the bottle of lube onto the bed, Dazai takes a second to completely shrug off his shirt. When he crawls back onto the
Tossing the bottle of lube onto the bed, Dazai takes a second to completely shrug off his shirt. When he crawls back onto the
bed, hovering over him, he's completely naked.
Thighs spreading eagerly to fit him between, Chuuya tugs him down into another kiss. There's a /need/ inside him that he can't deny, one that only feels satiated when he's as close to Dazai as he can be, skin on skin, breathing the
Thighs spreading eagerly to fit him between, Chuuya tugs him down into another kiss. There's a /need/ inside him that he can't deny, one that only feels satiated when he's as close to Dazai as he can be, skin on skin, breathing the
same air as him.
Dazai meets him eagerly, dropping down to one elbow so he can cup the back of Chuuya's skull in one hand, tilting his head to the perfect angle to give him a /searing/ kiss. Deep and perfect and /satisfying/.
Based on the movements of his shoulder, he can tell
Dazai meets him eagerly, dropping down to one elbow so he can cup the back of Chuuya's skull in one hand, tilting his head to the perfect angle to give him a /searing/ kiss. Deep and perfect and /satisfying/.
Based on the movements of his shoulder, he can tell
that he's reaching out to find the lube bottle, dragging back to their sides. At the same time he pops the cap on it one-handed-- god, how /dexterous/ and strong his hands are is insanely sexy--, Dazai pulls back to breath something worshipful into his mouth:
"I love you."
"I love you."
Chuuya shudders in response, fingers sliding into Dazai's hair to pull him into /another/ kiss, trying to express the sheer amount of /emotion/ in his chest.
He's still not used to /hearing/ it. Dazai's said it tens of times now, and it never fails to make Chuuya feel full to
He's still not used to /hearing/ it. Dazai's said it tens of times now, and it never fails to make Chuuya feel full to
/bursting/. Each time it feels like he's saying it for the /second/ time-- not the first, because /that/ was a shit show, but the /second/ time was perfect-- and he keeps wondering about how many times Dazai will have to say it before it stops feeling so /monumental/. How long it
will take before it’s such an essential, consistent part of his life that it feels /normal/.
Dazai’s fingers, freshly wet with lube, brush over his pelvis, dragging wet fingertips over his hips, the neatly trimmed trail of hair leading /down/, over the shape of his erection
Dazai’s fingers, freshly wet with lube, brush over his pelvis, dragging wet fingertips over his hips, the neatly trimmed trail of hair leading /down/, over the shape of his erection
over the lace, down, down /down/, until he’s tugging the underwear out of the way so he can press lubed fingers to his hole.
Thankfully, he doesn’t /tease/ him like he usually might. Instead he just starts the slow press in, not drawing the foreplay out but also making sure
Thankfully, he doesn’t /tease/ him like he usually might. Instead he just starts the slow press in, not drawing the foreplay out but also making sure
not to push his body too fast too soon.
It’s when Dazai’s index finger is buried to the first knuckle inside of him, wiggling enticingly, that Chuuya finally feels like he can /think/ past the soaring emotions that seem to have grown /wings/ in his chest, pulling back just far
It’s when Dazai’s index finger is buried to the first knuckle inside of him, wiggling enticingly, that Chuuya finally feels like he can /think/ past the soaring emotions that seem to have grown /wings/ in his chest, pulling back just far
enough to whimper back to him breathlessly, “I love you /too/.”
Dazai surges forward in instant response, like he’s trying to swallow the words directly from his mouth, like he’s trying to taste the syllables on his tongue. Like he doesn’t know what to do with the overload of
Dazai surges forward in instant response, like he’s trying to swallow the words directly from his mouth, like he’s trying to taste the syllables on his tongue. Like he doesn’t know what to do with the overload of
emotions /either/, all he knows what to do is /kiss/ him.
Over and over and over again, devouring him /whole/—heart, body, mind, soul— claiming every part of him. Taking everything that Chuuya offers up to him and making it /his/.
Lightheaded and dizzy from the combination of
Over and over and over again, devouring him /whole/—heart, body, mind, soul— claiming every part of him. Taking everything that Chuuya offers up to him and making it /his/.
Lightheaded and dizzy from the combination of
oxygen deprivation and sensation, Chuuya barely recognizes as Dazai slowly buries his finger into him up to the last knuckle. Pleasure sparks when his finger crooks upward, but he’s too busy sucking on his tongue like his life /depends/ on it, drinking him in.
One finger quickly
One finger quickly
becomes two, and this is when Chuuya starts to feel the /ache/ of the stretch.
Before, two fingers was no problem, but he hasn’t had anything inside him since the /last/ time they fucked, and his body has almost forgotten how /big/ Dazai’s fingers feel inside him. He can
Before, two fingers was no problem, but he hasn’t had anything inside him since the /last/ time they fucked, and his body has almost forgotten how /big/ Dazai’s fingers feel inside him. He can
breathe through the stretch and it’s not /painful/—
He’s just not /used/ to it anymore, and it’s almost like their first time again.
In a way, maybe it /is/ their first time again, because now there’s no secrets. There’s no pretenses, no more dark backstories, no conceived
He’s just not /used/ to it anymore, and it’s almost like their first time again.
In a way, maybe it /is/ their first time again, because now there’s no secrets. There’s no pretenses, no more dark backstories, no conceived
loyalties to anyone else, no insecurity, /nothing/.
They know each other now. They know everything /about/ each other, and the feelings they have are stronger than they’ve ever been before.
When Dazai’s two fingers are halfway inside of him, flexing intermittently and rubbing
They know each other now. They know everything /about/ each other, and the feelings they have are stronger than they’ve ever been before.
When Dazai’s two fingers are halfway inside of him, flexing intermittently and rubbing
against his sensitive inner muscles indulgently, Dazai pulls back from the kiss again.
“Say it again,” he murmurs, sliding sideways to press his soft request into the heated skin of his cheek, punctuating his request with achingly soft and adoring kisses rained over his cheek.
“Say it again,” he murmurs, sliding sideways to press his soft request into the heated skin of his cheek, punctuating his request with achingly soft and adoring kisses rained over his cheek.
And then he— a man who does /not/ beg, a man who is used to having frightful people on their knees and looking to him for direction, a man who was born and sculpted to /lead/—adds something else in a gently pleading voice that Chuuya can’t resist, even if he wanted to:
“Please?”
“Please?”
Letting out a shuddering breath, Chuuya rocks down into his hands. He tightens his legs around his waist and arches upward, increasing the context between them until they’re pressed together as closely as possible. Turning his head, he nudges his cheek into Dazai’s nose, and lets
his words fill the meager space between them. “I love you, Dazai.”
Attaching his /name/ pulls a sharper reaction from him, and in the next moment Dazai’s pressing a sucking kiss over his jawline at the same time he spreads his fingers inside him almost /ruthlessly/ far.
It
Attaching his /name/ pulls a sharper reaction from him, and in the next moment Dazai’s pressing a sucking kiss over his jawline at the same time he spreads his fingers inside him almost /ruthlessly/ far.
It
twinges slightly, a spark of aching pain lighting within him, but it’s nothing to relax into Dazai’s touch completely. It’s /nothing/ to take what he’s given and know without a /shred/ of doubt, that he will be cherished and taken care of.
And now that Chuuya knows what he
And now that Chuuya knows what he
/wants/, what he /likes/, what affects him, it’s so /easy/ to chase after it.
“I love you.” A twist of his fingers that leaves him breathless, expertly finding all his sensitive places and lavishing attention on them.
“I love you.” Dazai’s mouth settling on a spot just
“I love you.” A twist of his fingers that leaves him breathless, expertly finding all his sensitive places and lavishing attention on them.
“I love you.” Dazai’s mouth settling on a spot just
underneath his jaw, sucking and sucking until he can feel his pulse throbbing steadily in his mouth.
“I love you, Osamu.” His hand pulling back, two fingers replaced by /three/, and it’s /so/ easy to melt into them, internally thrilling at how /easily/ his body takes Dazai. At
“I love you, Osamu.” His hand pulling back, two fingers replaced by /three/, and it’s /so/ easy to melt into them, internally thrilling at how /easily/ his body takes Dazai. At
how /well/ they fit together, even if it might seem like they might not work with their size difference, and how Chuuya only feels full fo /bursting/ when he’s got Dazai buried inside him.
Even though Dazai is clearly concentrated on gracing his neck with a choker of marks made
Even though Dazai is clearly concentrated on gracing his neck with a choker of marks made
by his teeth and tongue, over and under and beneath his leather collar—which he has not taken off once he got it back except for when he’s showering— his clever hands don’t pause for a second on the important task of prepping him.
There’s no rush, but there /is/ a burning need
There’s no rush, but there /is/ a burning need
to be as close as physically possible. A desperation that both of them know won’t wane until Dazai is buried to the hilt inside him.
When his fingers— four now, because it /has/ been a while, and Dazai would rather die than risk hurting him right now— finally slide out of him,
When his fingers— four now, because it /has/ been a while, and Dazai would rather die than risk hurting him right now— finally slide out of him,
Chuuya accepts the resulting emptiness with a shuddering sigh.
He’s not worried. The entire time, Dazai’s erection has been pressed to his lower thigh, subtly throbbing, twitching every so often when Chuuya makes a particularly delicious sound and smearing pre-cum over his skin.
He’s not worried. The entire time, Dazai’s erection has been pressed to his lower thigh, subtly throbbing, twitching every so often when Chuuya makes a particularly delicious sound and smearing pre-cum over his skin.
He knows he’s going to be taken care of, because Dazai is just as needy as he is.
For once, there’s no power imbalance. Dazai isn’t calm and controlled while Chuuya is /desperate/, isn’t making plans and driving him crazy with them.
They need each other and when Dazai’s hips
For once, there’s no power imbalance. Dazai isn’t calm and controlled while Chuuya is /desperate/, isn’t making plans and driving him crazy with them.
They need each other and when Dazai’s hips
slide between his thighs, it feels like coming home.
He hitches his knees higher, opening himself up more for Dazai to reach down and line himself up. His eyes go half-lidded at the feel of him, the slicked head of his cock sliding over his entrance.
With his other hand, the
He hitches his knees higher, opening himself up more for Dazai to reach down and line himself up. His eyes go half-lidded at the feel of him, the slicked head of his cock sliding over his entrance.
With his other hand, the
dry one, he reaches up to peel Chuuya’s hand off from where it’s clenched on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to the back of it, quietly worshipful, before he intertwines their fingers together and pins his hand to the mattress.
The first slow slide of him pushing inside is like
The first slow slide of him pushing inside is like
a slow breaking down of Chuuya’s entire world, the very foundation of him crumbling beneath the onslaught of sensational overload that Dazai brings to him. Stripping him of all his defenses, leaving him a raw bundle of nerves that sings under his clever hands.
He shudders when
He shudders when
the head pops through that first ring of muscle, slowly spreading him wider.
Dazai takes that moment to reposition himself, shuffling higher on his knees and moving his hand out of the way. It finds Chuuya’s other hand, and he doesn’t even /care/ that his hand is wet with lube
Dazai takes that moment to reposition himself, shuffling higher on his knees and moving his hand out of the way. It finds Chuuya’s other hand, and he doesn’t even /care/ that his hand is wet with lube
when their fingers slide together.
He ends up with both of his hands pinned to the bed, heavy palms pressed against his own, Dazai leaning forward to press their sweaty foreheads together.
“I love you too, you know,” he sighs into his face, his hips taking up a slow rocking
He ends up with both of his hands pinned to the bed, heavy palms pressed against his own, Dazai leaning forward to press their sweaty foreheads together.
“I love you too, you know,” he sighs into his face, his hips taking up a slow rocking
rhythm that pushes him deeper in slow, tiny increments. It’s the perfect reunion, just fast enough that Chuuya feels like he never gets /used/ to it, always given more as soon as he’s ready.
“How could I not?” Dazai continues, eyes fluttering shut on a pleased sigh, like he’s
“How could I not?” Dazai continues, eyes fluttering shut on a pleased sigh, like he’s
too overwhelmed to keep his eyes open. There’s an expression on his face that Chuuya can’t /quite/ describe, his mind off-center and overwhelmed by the relentless march of pleasure being pressed into him, but it seems so much more /open/ and /vulnerable/ than it usually does.
“You’re so /perfect/,” Dazai sighs, sounding like he’s talking to /himself/, unconscious rambling of /praise/ as his hips finally meet Chuuya’s ass, as deep inside him as he can possibly go, so deep he might as well be housed in his soul. “Perfect just for /me/. So fucking
/pretty/— and /smart/ and /strong/.”
Chuuya clings to him, shuddering, feeling a previously empty hole inside him start to fill up, the ache of it sealed away by his mindless praise. He doesn’t get a lot of compliments on his /character/— he’s been called /too much/ by too many
Chuuya clings to him, shuddering, feeling a previously empty hole inside him start to fill up, the ache of it sealed away by his mindless praise. He doesn’t get a lot of compliments on his /character/— he’s been called /too much/ by too many
people that it’s left an underlying pit of insecurity that he covers up with loud bravado.
He’s always been too /loud/, too /energetic/,too angry, too quick to fight, too restless. There’s always been so many parts of him that are too /much/ for people, and he’s spent a lifetime
He’s always been too /loud/, too /energetic/,too angry, too quick to fight, too restless. There’s always been so many parts of him that are too /much/ for people, and he’s spent a lifetime
oscillating between trying to stuff himself into smaller, neater, more /manageable/ boxes so that people will like him more and telling himself that he doesn’t /care/ if he’s too much for other people because that’s /their/ problem, not his.
So to hear that Dazai likes him—no,
So to hear that Dazai likes him—no,
/loves/ him— and all his pieces, all the parts of himself that Chuuya thought were /flaws/, knows him and accepts him and /loves/ him in his entirety—
It’s enough for him to let out a shuddering breath, fingers tightening around Dazai’s, filled with a renewed determination to
It’s enough for him to let out a shuddering breath, fingers tightening around Dazai’s, filled with a renewed determination to
/never/ let this man go. His legs, wrapped loosely around his back, tighten to drag him in closer, wanting to feel as /close/ to him as physically possible.
He barely even knows where he ends and Dazai begins. Their hands tangled together and pressed to the mattress, a grounding
He barely even knows where he ends and Dazai begins. Their hands tangled together and pressed to the mattress, a grounding
point Dazai used to brace his weight as he starts up a slow, /deep/ rhythm with his hips. Chuuya’s thighs spread wide to fit his hips in between, ankles crossed to press his heels against the small of his back. Their breaths intermingling as Dazai leans down, pressing their
foreheads together in a gesture that's so /intimate/ it takes Chuuya's breath away. Buried to the hilt inside him, claiming every part of him and offering himself up in turn, give and take, siren call to ocean symphony, a melding of two halves into one.
It's /good/. Sex is
It's /good/. Sex is
usually more fast-paced with them, a race to drown themselves in as much pleasure as physically possible, a mutual unraveling. Chuuya hadn't realized how /good/ slow could feel, the relentless march of ecstasy singing in slow-motion across every one of his nerves.
Every slow
Every slow
drag /out/ feels like it touches every pleasurable spot inside him, making him hyper-aware of every bump and ridge of Dazai's cock. Every push back /in/ feels like coming home, all that smoldering pleasure compressing into a ball under the pressure of his overwhelming presence.
A ball that wraps tightly around the base of his spine, steadily-tightening around every part of him, from his heart to his /soul/.
He can't even /think/ under the onslaught, mindlessly arching up to meet every rock of his hips, caught in a heady need to have Dazai /deeper/.
He can't even /think/ under the onslaught, mindlessly arching up to meet every rock of his hips, caught in a heady need to have Dazai /deeper/.
Lifting his chin to share a series of quick, wet, /desperate/ kisses, shuddering when Dazai lets out a whispered groan into his mouth. Tightening his fingers and legs, forcibly keeping them pressed tightly together as everything starts to /build/.
"God, /Chuuya/," Dazai mumbles,
"God, /Chuuya/," Dazai mumbles,
sliding to the side to lay a sucking-kiss to his cheek, like he can't /not/ kiss him even though Chuuya is panting too hard to keep up a /real/ kiss. The sound of his voice sends a bolt of thrilling-heat through him, a drug straight to the brain.
"I love you," he says again,
"I love you," he says again,
like he /has/ to say it, has to /keep/ saying it, can't live without the weight of his words in his mouth.
Chuuya sighs in response, murmuring it back as he raises a knee to press it into Dazai's ribs, letting him get that much deeper.
Inside him, he can faintly feel his cock
Chuuya sighs in response, murmuring it back as he raises a knee to press it into Dazai's ribs, letting him get that much deeper.
Inside him, he can faintly feel his cock
twitch from hearing it repeated back to him, throbbing. His hips jerk forward, faster than they have this entire session, burying himself in to the hilt.
There's something so /right/ about being stuffed full with Dazai. Nothing else in the world matters, nothing else can touch
There's something so /right/ about being stuffed full with Dazai. Nothing else in the world matters, nothing else can touch
him. There's only here and now and /this/.
"Fuck," he hisses out on a particularly /good/ slide, body clenching down at the feel of the head of his cock grinding against his prostate. His own erection is still trapped in the lacy underwear, adding just a /hint/ of friction burn
"Fuck," he hisses out on a particularly /good/ slide, body clenching down at the feel of the head of his cock grinding against his prostate. His own erection is still trapped in the lacy underwear, adding just a /hint/ of friction burn
that only deepens the pleasure in contrast.
Part of him is /aching/ to be touched, because he hasn't gotten any direct contact and rubbing up against Dazai's lower belly only makes him /more/ desperate.Without a hand on his cock,the pleasure only builds and builds and /builds/,
Part of him is /aching/ to be touched, because he hasn't gotten any direct contact and rubbing up against Dazai's lower belly only makes him /more/ desperate.Without a hand on his cock,the pleasure only builds and builds and /builds/,
tension steadily winding tighter until he feels like he can barely hold all of the pressure inside of him.
The other part is /glad/ Dazai's not jerking him off to the finish line because he'd probably come /way/ too soon, and he wants to /savor/ this. He's exactly where he wants
The other part is /glad/ Dazai's not jerking him off to the finish line because he'd probably come /way/ too soon, and he wants to /savor/ this. He's exactly where he wants
to be, still mostly-dressed in lace and lingerie, spread out and pinned underneath Dazai like his favorite meal, his body in flames that are stoked with every mind-bendingly good thrust inside him.
He doesn't want it to /stop/. This doesn't feel like /sex/, this feels like
He doesn't want it to /stop/. This doesn't feel like /sex/, this feels like
making /love/, taking all the emotions of the last few weeks and channeling them into motion and heat and /desire/.
"Osamu," he breathes, a prayer to an earth-struck god, his breath hitching when he feels him twitch hard inside him, impossibly growing /harder/ and hotter. "Fuck,
"Osamu," he breathes, a prayer to an earth-struck god, his breath hitching when he feels him twitch hard inside him, impossibly growing /harder/ and hotter. "Fuck,
/Osamu/, you feel /so/ good. Don't stop, /never/ stop, love you /so/ much--"
With a strangled groan, Dazai comes.
Chuuya wasn't expecting it, his legs twitching with surprise at the burst of warmth and wet inside of him. Apparently, Dazai wasn't expecting it /either/ because
With a strangled groan, Dazai comes.
Chuuya wasn't expecting it, his legs twitching with surprise at the burst of warmth and wet inside of him. Apparently, Dazai wasn't expecting it /either/ because
he drops down on one elbow and smothers a shocked gasp near his ear, his hips stuttering with every wave.
Chuuya isn't disappointed, because there's something so /viscerally/ satisfying about Dazai filling him up, even if he's not quite there yet himself--
But it doesn't
Chuuya isn't disappointed, because there's something so /viscerally/ satisfying about Dazai filling him up, even if he's not quite there yet himself--
But it doesn't
matter because even though Dazai's hips slow and his rhythm is faulty, he doesn't stop moving for even a /second/.
Then there's the excitement of feeling his cum spilling out in thick droplets, being fucked back inside him, hearing the oversensitive hitch in Dazai's breath as
Then there's the excitement of feeling his cum spilling out in thick droplets, being fucked back inside him, hearing the oversensitive hitch in Dazai's breath as
he pushes through the searing-painful pleasure, refusing to stop, rocking into him again and again and /again/.
“I won’t,” he promises mindlessly, voice hoarse, his body dropping down the rest of the way to press him completely into the mattress. The feeling of his body working,
“I won’t,” he promises mindlessly, voice hoarse, his body dropping down the rest of the way to press him completely into the mattress. The feeling of his body working,
abs flexing rhythmically, his skin wet with sweat from exertion, his breath coming out in hissed gasps as he /keeps going/, keeps fucking him as his cock struggles to harden again, coaxed into another round. He hasn’t pulled out for even a second, hips continually rocking forward
even as he’s not as /hard/ as he was before.
And Chuuya—
He’s had multiple orgasms before, and he knows, from /experience/, how sensitive his cock gets after each orgasm. So sensitive that sometimes even the /air/ feels burning on his skin, and he has to work his way back up
And Chuuya—
He’s had multiple orgasms before, and he knows, from /experience/, how sensitive his cock gets after each orgasm. So sensitive that sometimes even the /air/ feels burning on his skin, and he has to work his way back up
into being /touched/ again.
Dazai’s never had more than /one/ orgasm in a row since they got together, and he can /feel/ the strain of it. Can feel the way his thighs are trembling against the back of Chuuya’s, the way his hands tighten on his own every so often, fighting to
Dazai’s never had more than /one/ orgasm in a row since they got together, and he can /feel/ the strain of it. Can feel the way his thighs are trembling against the back of Chuuya’s, the way his hands tighten on his own every so often, fighting to
ground himself in the waves of overwhelming sensation.
And he seems so /lost/ in it, all that careful, dominating precision stripped away, leaving him raw and vulnerable and /needy/.
“Won’t /ever/,” he says again, sliding over to give Chuuya a kiss, so uncontrolled and hard
And he seems so /lost/ in it, all that careful, dominating precision stripped away, leaving him raw and vulnerable and /needy/.
“Won’t /ever/,” he says again, sliding over to give Chuuya a kiss, so uncontrolled and hard
that it’s /bruising/, causing a sting of pain that just adds to the swirling cacophony.
“Won’t /ever/ let you go,” he promises, and with the way he’s draped over him, Chuuya’s trapped erection gets a /searing/ amount of friction between their stomachs, making him pant. “Gonna
“Won’t /ever/ let you go,” he promises, and with the way he’s draped over him, Chuuya’s trapped erection gets a /searing/ amount of friction between their stomachs, making him pant. “Gonna
keep you /forever/, gonna make you /happy/, gonna make you mine, mine, /mine/.”
It’s just mindless repetition, Dazai /clearly/ more affected than he’s ever been, practically tearing up as he continues to push them both past the point of no return—
But Chuuya’s mind immediately
It’s just mindless repetition, Dazai /clearly/ more affected than he’s ever been, practically tearing up as he continues to push them both past the point of no return—
But Chuuya’s mind immediately
flashes to their /first/ time, when he was saying something along the same lines.
It was different then, and Chuuya didn’t know then what he knows now but—
It feels like they’ve come full circle. They’ve been through /so/ much, both together and individually, and somehow they
It was different then, and Chuuya didn’t know then what he knows now but—
It feels like they’ve come full circle. They’ve been through /so/ much, both together and individually, and somehow they
always manage to find their way back to each other. No matter /what/ happens, they only ever seem to grow /stronger/ together, the layers of their connection deepened by healed cracks.
The pleasure and the /emotions/ behind it have Chuuya clinging onto Dazai, arching up into his
The pleasure and the /emotions/ behind it have Chuuya clinging onto Dazai, arching up into his
every grind forward to increase the force, quickly climbing to the edge.
It’s not the most /intense/ sex they’ve had on a physical level, but it’s so much more /emotional/ than it’s ever been. Chuuya’s heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest, cradled in Dazai’s hands.
It’s not the most /intense/ sex they’ve had on a physical level, but it’s so much more /emotional/ than it’s ever been. Chuuya’s heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest, cradled in Dazai’s hands.
Every part of him carved out, offered up, showered in acceptance and want and /love/—
That, combined with the way Dazai’s teeth sink into his shoulder to stave off his second orgasm, his stomach pressing closer to give him even /more/ friction because they both refuse to let
That, combined with the way Dazai’s teeth sink into his shoulder to stave off his second orgasm, his stomach pressing closer to give him even /more/ friction because they both refuse to let
go of the grip they have on each other’s hands, is enough to send Chuuya tripping into his orgasm.
It’s /earth-quaking/. Every pulse of pleasure feels like it lasts forever, each wave melting into the next into the next into the /next/. His entire body sings with it, feeling so
It’s /earth-quaking/. Every pulse of pleasure feels like it lasts forever, each wave melting into the next into the next into the /next/. His entire body sings with it, feeling so
hot he might as well be on /fire/ from it.
And if that wasn’t good enough, he can feel Dazai succumb to the rush too, shuddering through his second orgasm. His cock twitches weakly inside him, adding another few spurts of cum to the already hot-wet mess. He can feel it starting
And if that wasn’t good enough, he can feel Dazai succumb to the rush too, shuddering through his second orgasm. His cock twitches weakly inside him, adding another few spurts of cum to the already hot-wet mess. He can feel it starting
to drip out of him, firing up a raw, primal satisfaction in him.
By the time Dazai collapses onto him, breathing heavy and trembling, he's practically purring with contentment. All his muscles are limp with satisfaction, his body practically melted into the bed. He knows there
By the time Dazai collapses onto him, breathing heavy and trembling, he's practically purring with contentment. All his muscles are limp with satisfaction, his body practically melted into the bed. He knows there
will be a vicious ache in his thighs later-- a result of the fact that Chuuya hasn't been active in the last few weeks, and he has to /stretch/ to fit Dazai in between-- and probably his back too, but for now, it's held back by an inescapable sense of satisfaction.
Dazai is
Dazai is
heavy on top of him, a treasured weight. He can feel him breathing, harsh as he starts to come down.
Somehow, their hands are /still/ entangled together, even through all of that. Chuuya squeezes his hand, tilting his head to the side to mouth affectionately at the skin of his
Somehow, their hands are /still/ entangled together, even through all of that. Chuuya squeezes his hand, tilting his head to the side to mouth affectionately at the skin of his
upper arm, tasting the salt of sweat.
For a while it's just them breathing, coming down from their highs, finding comfort and security in how closely tangled together even now.
Dazai still hasn't pulled out and Chuuya finds that oddly /pleasing/, content to just lay here and
For a while it's just them breathing, coming down from their highs, finding comfort and security in how closely tangled together even now.
Dazai still hasn't pulled out and Chuuya finds that oddly /pleasing/, content to just lay here and
enjoy being so intimately connected with him. He could cockwarm him for /hours/ and never get tired of it.
It's Dazai who breaks the silence first, clearing his throat and struggling up onto his elbows to take his weight off him. "Fuck," he rasps, inelegant and straight to the
It's Dazai who breaks the silence first, clearing his throat and struggling up onto his elbows to take his weight off him. "Fuck," he rasps, inelegant and straight to the
point.
Chuuya /laughs/ quietly in response, the silent relaxation of the moment ripening into something /sweeter/.
After another moment, Dazai manages to roll them both over to lay on his back with Chuuya sprawled on top of him.
He misses his weight already, but it /does/ give
Chuuya /laughs/ quietly in response, the silent relaxation of the moment ripening into something /sweeter/.
After another moment, Dazai manages to roll them both over to lay on his back with Chuuya sprawled on top of him.
He misses his weight already, but it /does/ give
him the chance to stretch out his hips and thighs, arching his back until he feels something pop back into place.
Dazai pulls out with the motion, and he shivers at the feeling of cum dripping down his thighs, collecting messily over them both.
"You ruined my lingerie again,"
Dazai pulls out with the motion, and he shivers at the feeling of cum dripping down his thighs, collecting messily over them both.
"You ruined my lingerie again,"
Chuuya pouts playfully, making a face at the way his underwear feels now, soaked all over. It's probably stained irreversibly now, from a combination of lube and cum.
It's a shame. He /liked/ this set too. He wanted to wear it again some day, probably with the top too.
"You
It's a shame. He /liked/ this set too. He wanted to wear it again some day, probably with the top too.
"You
knew I would," Dazai says, his voice /achingly/ fond. His hands find Chuuya's hips, fingertips coasting over his skin in a mundane show of worship. Whenever he finds a spot that makes his breath hitch in soreness, he presses in and massages it away.
That's true. /Both/ times he
That's true. /Both/ times he
wore lingerie, they were ruined by the end of the night. Not /intentionally/, but its like Dazai can't even wait long enough to get him out of it. Or that he /likes/ seeing Chuuya get all messy in his pretty clothing, likes making a mess out of him when he dressed up /for/ him.
Still, just because he was half-expecting them to get ruined, that doesn't mean he's not /disappointed/.
"I'll buy you more," Dazai offers, like Chuuya doesn't already /know/ that he'll buy him whatever he wants whenever he wants. /Especially/ if he gets to see and fuck him in
"I'll buy you more," Dazai offers, like Chuuya doesn't already /know/ that he'll buy him whatever he wants whenever he wants. /Especially/ if he gets to see and fuck him in
it.
"We're never going to have enough if you keep ruining them as soon as I get them," he teases, leaning down. He braces his elbows on either side of Dazai's head, the perfect distance to run his fingers affectionately through his hair and watch his smile form right in front
"We're never going to have enough if you keep ruining them as soon as I get them," he teases, leaning down. He braces his elbows on either side of Dazai's head, the perfect distance to run his fingers affectionately through his hair and watch his smile form right in front
of his eyes.
"I'll buy in bulk," Dazai murmurs back, lifting his chin to silently ask for a kiss, and who is Chuuya to deny him?
This kiss is just as sweet as the rest of the other ones today. Soothing and /adoring/, one that could easily be turned into something heated, but
"I'll buy in bulk," Dazai murmurs back, lifting his chin to silently ask for a kiss, and who is Chuuya to deny him?
This kiss is just as sweet as the rest of the other ones today. Soothing and /adoring/, one that could easily be turned into something heated, but
both of them are content to just bask in the glow without needing anything more.
It stirs something wonderful inside of Chuuya, something /warm/ and soft and loving. Something that he's always wanted before, a storybook ending, a fairytale happiness--
And now he has it. A bit
It stirs something wonderful inside of Chuuya, something /warm/ and soft and loving. Something that he's always wanted before, a storybook ending, a fairytale happiness--
And now he has it. A bit
unconventional, a bit unexpected, a bit /strange/ to other people--
But this is /exactly/ where Chuuya was always meant to be. This is always what he wanted. This is what he /needed/.
"I missed you," he murmurs, pulling back a fraction to whisper against his bottom lip. He
But this is /exactly/ where Chuuya was always meant to be. This is always what he wanted. This is what he /needed/.
"I missed you," he murmurs, pulling back a fraction to whisper against his bottom lip. He
doesn't know how /else/ to relate the burgeoning emotions in his chest, doesn't know how /else/ to put it into words, just--
Kissing him, over and over and over again, pressed so close and never feeling like it's /enough/. Always needing more.
"I haven't gone anywhere," he
Kissing him, over and over and over again, pressed so close and never feeling like it's /enough/. Always needing more.
"I haven't gone anywhere," he
whispers back, lifting his head to deepen the kiss. His clean hand comes up, cradling the back of his head and holding him /close/.
Chuuya knows. It's just--
After /almost/ losing him, after almost losing /everything/, after losing what he /has/ lost by accident or design,
Chuuya knows. It's just--
After /almost/ losing him, after almost losing /everything/, after losing what he /has/ lost by accident or design,
it's /hard/ to forget. It's hard to forget how easily this could all be taken away away from him even though he knows--
"I'm not going anywhere ever again." A promise sealed with another kiss, hands cradling him lovingly.
-- that Dazai is telling the /truth/.
---- +
"I'm not going anywhere ever again." A promise sealed with another kiss, hands cradling him lovingly.
-- that Dazai is telling the /truth/.
---- +
Chuuya has always been the sort of person that thinks that time goes by too /slow/. Ever since he was a child, he's never had a lot of patience. He's always wanted things to happen /right now/, and the slower paced parts of life-- like growing up, school, finding his place in
life, finding his dream career-- have always made him /frustrated/. Ever since he can remember, he's always wanted to be at the /end/ of his journey, instead of still fumbling his way through.
It's ironic that now he wants to grab onto the timer of life and force it to /halt/.
It's ironic that now he wants to grab onto the timer of life and force it to /halt/.
Every day goes by too /quick/, slipping away from his fingers before he can properly savor it. A landslide of unforgotten days, gone as quickly as they come.
By now, Dazai and Chuuya have only been officially dating for a little over four months. It feels /longer/ than that, and
By now, Dazai and Chuuya have only been officially dating for a little over four months. It feels /longer/ than that, and
even though a lot of people would categorize them as moving too fast— even Yuan seemed shocked and a little surprised when he told her they were living together— it just feels so /natural/. So easy.
Waking up next to Dazai every morning is just /normal/. Eating breakfast with
Waking up next to Dazai every morning is just /normal/. Eating breakfast with
him, watching movies with him, reading silently beside him, going out with him. Their entire lives tangled together intricately, every part of Chuuya’s routine sprinkled in with Dazai’s presence. It wasn’t fast, it was /right/.
He slowly starts to repair his relationship with
He slowly starts to repair his relationship with
his sister too. It’s not always easy, and there’s some conversations that leave him /fuming/ with the desire to throw things at her—
But mostly, he understands. If he was in the Mafia, he would probably hide it from his siblings too. Maybe not as /long/, but if it kept them safe
But mostly, he understands. If he was in the Mafia, he would probably hide it from his siblings too. Maybe not as /long/, but if it kept them safe
then he would do whatever it took to /keep/ them safe.
Obviously Kouyou’s plan /didn’t/ work, and now there’s new tension on /top/ of their existing problems because she /hates/ Dazai for some reason, but in the end…
She’s his sister, and he loves her. He understands where
Obviously Kouyou’s plan /didn’t/ work, and now there’s new tension on /top/ of their existing problems because she /hates/ Dazai for some reason, but in the end…
She’s his sister, and he loves her. He understands where
she was coming from and /why/ she did it, even though it was fucking /stupid/. And /because/ shes his sister, that means he might be the /first/ person in line to kick her ass, but they’ll always be there for each other.
They will fight and argue and hurt each other— but Chuuya
They will fight and argue and hurt each other— but Chuuya
would never give her up for /anything/.
It’s surprisingly easy to luxuriate in the sense of peace beginning to settle over the city. Nika and the Bratva have been surprisingly silent, unwilling to disturb the silent truce, because the Mafia isn’t /alone/ anymore.
Now that
It’s surprisingly easy to luxuriate in the sense of peace beginning to settle over the city. Nika and the Bratva have been surprisingly silent, unwilling to disturb the silent truce, because the Mafia isn’t /alone/ anymore.
Now that
Dazai knows that Kouyou is Chuuya’s sister, he’s unofficially become the /Mafia’s/ informant. He doesn’t work as often these days, and some days it even seems like he’s looking to /retire/, but he’s firmly aligned with the Mafia. No more selling information to the Bratva or the
other smaller gangs in Yokohama.
(Add to that that /Ranpo/ now has loyalty to someone that is /close/ to Dazai, it makes quite the power group that the Russians don’t really want to fuck with.)
Honestly, it kind of confuses Chuuya, because he thought that all gangs were locked
(Add to that that /Ranpo/ now has loyalty to someone that is /close/ to Dazai, it makes quite the power group that the Russians don’t really want to fuck with.)
Honestly, it kind of confuses Chuuya, because he thought that all gangs were locked
in this eternal, bloody struggle for power that featured lots of gunfights, kidnappings, murder, the whole city locked in a silent war.
But when he asked, Dazai said it wasn’t really /like/ that. Yes, there would always be power struggles and fights if the situation called for
But when he asked, Dazai said it wasn’t really /like/ that. Yes, there would always be power struggles and fights if the situation called for
it or if the opportunity to make a move arose.
But, generally, there’s just this odd truce where everyone could get along as long as everyone respected the boundaries. No one /wanted/ to start a war because war cost /money/, it cost /blood/, it gained public and government
But, generally, there’s just this odd truce where everyone could get along as long as everyone respected the boundaries. No one /wanted/ to start a war because war cost /money/, it cost /blood/, it gained public and government
attention.
Overall, no one wanted to fight unless they had to or it was /worth/ it. With the Bratva operating on foreign soil, it would be a difficult task to take on the Mafia /and/ the Armed Detective Agency, and so they were /waiting/ for better times to make their move.
Overall, no one wanted to fight unless they had to or it was /worth/ it. With the Bratva operating on foreign soil, it would be a difficult task to take on the Mafia /and/ the Armed Detective Agency, and so they were /waiting/ for better times to make their move.
Never /gone/, but silent, for now.
Dazai /and/ Kouyou reassured him that they’re /prepared/ now, for anything that might happen. Part of him— the frightened part that will forever be stuck six feet underground in a grave with his name on it, the part that is /still/ too
Dazai /and/ Kouyou reassured him that they’re /prepared/ now, for anything that might happen. Part of him— the frightened part that will forever be stuck six feet underground in a grave with his name on it, the part that is /still/ too
afraid of water to take a /bath/-- finds that hard to believe but--
Life goes on, you know? He can't spend his life in terror. He wants to /enjoy/ living, enjoy what he has. Crawling under the blankets to hide from the monsters might be /appealing/ sometimes but--
Chuuya is no
Life goes on, you know? He can't spend his life in terror. He wants to /enjoy/ living, enjoy what he has. Crawling under the blankets to hide from the monsters might be /appealing/ sometimes but--
Chuuya is no
coward. He will not live in fear. He will always go down /fighting/, to the bitter end.
Fighting fear, or fighting a person, it doesn't matter. It's all the same battleground to him.
And because his family-- god, it /still/ makes him giddy to think of Dazai as /family/-- is
Fighting fear, or fighting a person, it doesn't matter. It's all the same battleground to him.
And because his family-- god, it /still/ makes him giddy to think of Dazai as /family/-- is
prepared, that means he should be too.
With Gide's permission, he slowly returns to normal life. He doesn't need naps anymore, and now he can /exercise/ again, something he didn't realize he would /miss/ so much.
It starts with some early-morning jogs with the dogs. Dazai comes
With Gide's permission, he slowly returns to normal life. He doesn't need naps anymore, and now he can /exercise/ again, something he didn't realize he would /miss/ so much.
It starts with some early-morning jogs with the dogs. Dazai comes
with him the first dozen times, but then he gets /lazy/ and stops coming.
(He's lazy in the mornings now, slow to wake up and even more reluctant to let Chuuya /leave/. It's a far cry from when they /first/ met and Dazai barely slept at all.
It's cute.)
Then it's slowly
(He's lazy in the mornings now, slow to wake up and even more reluctant to let Chuuya /leave/. It's a far cry from when they /first/ met and Dazai barely slept at all.
It's cute.)
Then it's slowly
progressing into a /heavier/ routine, feeling so damn /proud/ of himself when he looks in the mirror and sees that he's starting to regain all the muscle and weight he lost over the past three months.
Then it's starting to spar with Oda, brushing up on his Judo skills and
Then it's starting to spar with Oda, brushing up on his Judo skills and
adding a few more 'street' skills. He's still an /excellent/ Judo martial artist, but he hasn't gotten in /that/ many fights, let alone any with Yakuza members, so he still needs some improvements./Real/ fights don't have any rules, and Oda shows him /quickly/ that Yakuza are not
afraid to fight dirty and /mean/.
He's an /excellent/ student though, and it's not long before Oda and him are evenly matched, and he starts to /win/.
Dazai continually pouts that he's not sparring with /him/, but the /last/ time they sparred, Chuuya managed to flip him over
He's an /excellent/ student though, and it's not long before Oda and him are evenly matched, and he starts to /win/.
Dazai continually pouts that he's not sparring with /him/, but the /last/ time they sparred, Chuuya managed to flip him over
his hip before pinning him on his back. That /quickly/ devolved into a heated, desperate round of impromptu sex outside in the backyard because 'chibi looked so /good/ when he pinned me and looked like he was going to hurt me, how could I resist?', so--
No sparring rounds with
No sparring rounds with
Dazai, no matter /how/ much he pouts, unless Chuuya is /looking/ to get fucked.
All in all, it's just...perfect. His life, unfolding /exactly/ the way it's supposed to, getting better with each day. Visible progress in the things he's working on, and a support system that loves
All in all, it's just...perfect. His life, unfolding /exactly/ the way it's supposed to, getting better with each day. Visible progress in the things he's working on, and a support system that loves
and encourages him.
It's not /exactly/ what he dreamed his life would be, but its everything he could've ever wanted and more.
There's only one, teensy, /small/ problem:
His birthday is soon--less than a week-- and his family has a /tradition/ of having a birthday dinner the
It's not /exactly/ what he dreamed his life would be, but its everything he could've ever wanted and more.
There's only one, teensy, /small/ problem:
His birthday is soon--less than a week-- and his family has a /tradition/ of having a birthday dinner the
night before, so they can all celebrate properly without taking time out of Chuuya's actual birthday.
Now,this is the /first/ birthday that he's had where he wasn't living at home, which means he could /probably/ beg off or get away with offering a Facetime date instead.
But...
Now,this is the /first/ birthday that he's had where he wasn't living at home, which means he could /probably/ beg off or get away with offering a Facetime date instead.
But...
He /does/ want to go home. Not forever, of course, but he wants to see his dad again. It's been almost /eight/ months since he last saw him or Kyouka in person. He misses them.
Kouyou already cleared her schedule so she could come, and she's probably going to bring Oda as well.
Kouyou already cleared her schedule so she could come, and she's probably going to bring Oda as well.
None of that is the problem.
The /problem/ is that, when he brings up the idea of introducing him to his family, Dazai looks /terrified/. The most /frightened/ Chuuya has /ever/ seen him, which would be concerning if it wasn't so /funny/.
He literally saw this man face down a
The /problem/ is that, when he brings up the idea of introducing him to his family, Dazai looks /terrified/. The most /frightened/ Chuuya has /ever/ seen him, which would be concerning if it wasn't so /funny/.
He literally saw this man face down a
Russian gang boss with a straight face, but the mere /mention/ of his father has him pale-faced and wide-eyed.
It's /hilarious/. Big, /bad/ Dazai, famed criminal mastermind, bloody and dangerous, petrified of a /tiny/ little man who likes wine too much for his own good.
"Do you
It's /hilarious/. Big, /bad/ Dazai, famed criminal mastermind, bloody and dangerous, petrified of a /tiny/ little man who likes wine too much for his own good.
"Do you
/not/ want to meet my family?" Chuuya asks, hands planted on his hips and fixing Dazai with a /look/.
Admittedly, he /is/ having a little too much fun tormenting Dazai.
"No! I mean, of /course/ I do," Dazai says empathetically, "It's just..."
Whatever he says next is mumbled
Admittedly, he /is/ having a little too much fun tormenting Dazai.
"No! I mean, of /course/ I do," Dazai says empathetically, "It's just..."
Whatever he says next is mumbled
so low that Chuuya can't even hear it, Dazai's chin tucked close to his chest.
He arches an eyebrow, leaning closer. "What? I can't hear you."
Dazai looks briefly frustrated and then /embarrassed/ and then--
"What if he doesn't like me?"
Aw, he's /nervous/. That's adorable.
He arches an eyebrow, leaning closer. "What? I can't hear you."
Dazai looks briefly frustrated and then /embarrassed/ and then--
"What if he doesn't like me?"
Aw, he's /nervous/. That's adorable.
Chuuya /could/ reassure him that his father will /like/ him, that it's going to be /okay/ and he has nothing to be nervous about--
But he's having too much fun watching Dazai /sweat/.
"Oh, he's /definitely/ not going to like you," he says easily, raising a hand to count off his
But he's having too much fun watching Dazai /sweat/.
"Oh, he's /definitely/ not going to like you," he says easily, raising a hand to count off his
reasoning on his fingers, "You are /far/ too old for me, you're a /criminal/, you don't have a /job/, you already have a kid, /and/ you stole me from someone else. That's /five/ strikes against you. It's not looking good."
Dazai's lip wobbles and he looks like he might /cry/.
Dazai's lip wobbles and he looks like he might /cry/.
"The age thing is /dirty/, you know," he sniffs, crossing his arms. "I still haven't gotten over you calling me a /grandpa/ when you heard about the Demon Prodigy. My ego will never recover."
"/Sweetheart," Chuuya says, reaching over to pat his cheek a /little/ patronizingly,
"/Sweetheart," Chuuya says, reaching over to pat his cheek a /little/ patronizingly,
"That's not even the worst thing I said about you, old man."
Dazai /gasps/, giving him a look of such pure, abject /shock/ and horror that it makes Chuuya giggle.
"But really," he carries on, stepping closer to stare up at him, letting his touch fade into reassurance, "It
Dazai /gasps/, giving him a look of such pure, abject /shock/ and horror that it makes Chuuya giggle.
"But really," he carries on, stepping closer to stare up at him, letting his touch fade into reassurance, "It
doesn't matter if he likes you or not, because I /love/ you, and that's what really matters, okay?"
Dazai leans his cheek into his palm, his skin soft and warm. His eyes, as he looks down, are bottomless pits of warm affection, practically glowing in the light of the kitchen.
Dazai leans his cheek into his palm, his skin soft and warm. His eyes, as he looks down, are bottomless pits of warm affection, practically glowing in the light of the kitchen.
There's a moment of just soft reassurance and warm affection--
"Take back the old man comment," Dazai says suddenly, uncrossing his arms to drape them over Chuuya's shoulders and bringing him even closer.
He blinks. "What?"
"Take it back or I'm not going."
Pinching his side,
"Take back the old man comment," Dazai says suddenly, uncrossing his arms to drape them over Chuuya's shoulders and bringing him even closer.
He blinks. "What?"
"Take it back or I'm not going."
Pinching his side,
Chuuya scoffs at him. "I'm not taking it back. You /have/ to go. It's my birthday."
"Not /yet/," Dazai points out, which is /very/ true, because there is still /six/ days until his birthday, "Which means you're not the boss of me /yet/."
/That's/ a lie and they both know it.
"Not /yet/," Dazai points out, which is /very/ true, because there is still /six/ days until his birthday, "Which means you're not the boss of me /yet/."
/That's/ a lie and they both know it.
Dazai would give Chuuya /everything/ he ever wanted. He's got him wrapped around his little finger,and all he has to do is /pout/ to get his way.
Cute that he's trying to play it off though. Chuuya sticks his tongue out at him, playful. "Fine. I'll take it back. You're not old,"
Cute that he's trying to play it off though. Chuuya sticks his tongue out at him, playful. "Fine. I'll take it back. You're not old,"
he says and /just/ when Dazai is looking hopeful and preening with pride at having /won/ this playful argument--
"You just have /seasoning/."
Dazai gapes at him. "What does /that/ mean?"
Chuuya adopts a /mournful/ look. "The grey hair is starting to come in. I can see your
"You just have /seasoning/."
Dazai gapes at him. "What does /that/ mean?"
Chuuya adopts a /mournful/ look. "The grey hair is starting to come in. I can see your
youth fading away as we speak. It won't be long before I have to start calling retirement homes."
Dazai /stares/ at him, expression disbelieving. "You're /lying/. I don't have gray hair."
He is absolutely lying. He just happened to catch Dazai checking out his hair a week ago
Dazai /stares/ at him, expression disbelieving. "You're /lying/. I don't have gray hair."
He is absolutely lying. He just happened to catch Dazai checking out his hair a week ago
in the mirror, and filed the instance away for blackmail material. Not that he actually /minds/ if Dazai gets a few gray hairs-- he's starting to think the silver fox aesthetic is pretty /sexy/, actually-- but it's /funny/ to watch him panic over it.
"Of course not, mackerel,"
"Of course not, mackerel,"
he says sweetly, smiling up at him.
Dazai doesn't look like he believes him for a /second/, one of his hands coming up to touch his temple self-consciously. If there was a mirror nearby,he'd probably be checking himself out in it. "Don't even /start/ on the retirement home idea.
Dazai doesn't look like he believes him for a /second/, one of his hands coming up to touch his temple self-consciously. If there was a mirror nearby,he'd probably be checking himself out in it. "Don't even /start/ on the retirement home idea.
I'm only /thirty-four/," he grumbles.
And for all that he sounds /grumpy/, he hasn't pushed Chuuya away by even a centimeter. In fact, he's probably shuffled closer, draping his weight over his shoulders.
"Practically middle-aged," Chuuya sighs, patting his cheek again. "You'll
And for all that he sounds /grumpy/, he hasn't pushed Chuuya away by even a centimeter. In fact, he's probably shuffled closer, draping his weight over his shoulders.
"Practically middle-aged," Chuuya sighs, patting his cheek again. "You'll
be a mummy soon enough. You've already got the bandages."
Well--
/Used/ to have the bandages. He doesn't wear them at home anymore, all his scars and ink and stories on display. It's a display of /trust/ that Chuuya treasures.
He still wears the bandages whenever they go out,
Well--
/Used/ to have the bandages. He doesn't wear them at home anymore, all his scars and ink and stories on display. It's a display of /trust/ that Chuuya treasures.
He still wears the bandages whenever they go out,
but their /home/ is safe for him.
Dazai looks torn on what to say, his expression flickering, before eventually settling on a fondly sighed, "You're mean."
Chuuya beams up at him, slinging his arms around his neck. "/So/ mean," he agrees empathetically, tugging him down for a
Dazai looks torn on what to say, his expression flickering, before eventually settling on a fondly sighed, "You're mean."
Chuuya beams up at him, slinging his arms around his neck. "/So/ mean," he agrees empathetically, tugging him down for a
kiss.
Dazai gives in easily, both of his hands finding his back and supporting his weight as he bends him backwards slightly, just enough to make him hover on the /edge/ of falling. His kiss is sweet, freely offered and overflowing with affection.
"What am I going to do with
Dazai gives in easily, both of his hands finding his back and supporting his weight as he bends him backwards slightly, just enough to make him hover on the /edge/ of falling. His kiss is sweet, freely offered and overflowing with affection.
"What am I going to do with
you?" He murmurs into his mouth.
"You're going to meet my family," Chuuya declares with a final kiss, pulling back to smile in Dazai's eyes, and well--
Chuuya /always/ gets what he wants.
----- +
Dazai is...nervous. He won't /admit/ that to anyone, and /especially/ not to
"You're going to meet my family," Chuuya declares with a final kiss, pulling back to smile in Dazai's eyes, and well--
Chuuya /always/ gets what he wants.
----- +
Dazai is...nervous. He won't /admit/ that to anyone, and /especially/ not to
the little /menace/ whom he lovingly calls his boyfriend--because he would /never/ let it go, just like he's /continually/ pointed out gray hairs he apparently found in Dazai's hair and then /refused/ to point them out-- but he is.
Just a little bit.
The thing is, he's never
Just a little bit.
The thing is, he's never
/met/ someone's parents before. All of his mafia friends are various shades of runaway's, orphans and neglected, so it's not like he was having regular sleepovers as a teenager. He avoided Sasaki's parents for a /long/ while, because he wasn't her friend /or/ her boyfriend, and
he /absolutely/ was not interested in meeting his fuck-buddy's parents back then.
Of course, he did eventually have to meet them when Sasaki got pregnant with Shuuji, but that wasn't a /meeting/ so much as it was... a three-hour /lecture/.
Needless to say, he has a /bad/ track
Of course, he did eventually have to meet them when Sasaki got pregnant with Shuuji, but that wasn't a /meeting/ so much as it was... a three-hour /lecture/.
Needless to say, he has a /bad/ track
record and he's /pretty sure/ that it's not going to get better this time because he /really/ doesn't think he's /family friendly/.
Which is nerve-wracking, because he /knows/ how much Chuuya loves his family, even with all the issues, and Dazai /has/ to make a good impression.
Which is nerve-wracking, because he /knows/ how much Chuuya loves his family, even with all the issues, and Dazai /has/ to make a good impression.
He /wants/ the chibi's family to like him-- because Chuuya is /his/ family now, which makes this /his/ family as well-- and it's putting a lot of /pressure/ on him.
Not to /mention/ that he's going to be locked in a house with Chuuya, his father, and /both/ of his sisters for
Not to /mention/ that he's going to be locked in a house with Chuuya, his father, and /both/ of his sisters for
/two/ days /and/ a night. He's going to be eaten /alive/. They're gonna gang up on him and /hate/ him--
"Are you ready?"
No. "Yes."
Chuuya is the first one out of the car, looking so familiar with his surroundings and completely at ease that Dazai almost /envies/ him. He's
"Are you ready?"
No. "Yes."
Chuuya is the first one out of the car, looking so familiar with his surroundings and completely at ease that Dazai almost /envies/ him. He's
been to the more residential cities in Japan before, and he's /looked/ at all the houses and people that live here--
But he's never felt a part of it.
Chuuya's childhood home is a respectable building. Not as big as Dazai's house, but the smaller size of it lends it a /cozy/
But he's never felt a part of it.
Chuuya's childhood home is a respectable building. Not as big as Dazai's house, but the smaller size of it lends it a /cozy/
feeling. Homey. There's no yard to speak of, and the houses on either side are stacked up /very/ closely, almost identical to each other. The only defining features are the decorations on the front doorstep, heavily featuring flowers and nature.
Chuuya waits for him to come
Chuuya waits for him to come
around the car, linking his arm through his. He smiles up at him, bumping his temple against his arm in a silent show of support and reassurance.
Dazai clutches the bottle of wine he brought-- Chuuya said it was his fathers favorite brands and that he'd love the gift -- and
Dazai clutches the bottle of wine he brought-- Chuuya said it was his fathers favorite brands and that he'd love the gift -- and
hopes he doesn't /drop/ it with his clammy palms as they march up to the front door.
It feels like he's going to /war/.
Chuuya reaches out to knock on the door without hesitation. "Smile, Osamu. You look like you're going to faint."
Dazai forces a smile on his face, too big.
It feels like he's going to /war/.
Chuuya reaches out to knock on the door without hesitation. "Smile, Osamu. You look like you're going to faint."
Dazai forces a smile on his face, too big.
"Not like that, you look uncomfortable."
He /is/ uncomfortable. He dims the smile down.
"Now it just looks like you're /faking/--"
The door opens.
In the entrance is a man with long, dark hair pulled away from his face with an elegant braid. He has a big, welcoming smile on
He /is/ uncomfortable. He dims the smile down.
"Now it just looks like you're /faking/--"
The door opens.
In the entrance is a man with long, dark hair pulled away from his face with an elegant braid. He has a big, welcoming smile on
his face, and he /seems/ like a homey, family man with his cashmere sweater with a little plaid design on it--
"Chuuya!" He says enthusiastically, his face softening. He looks /so/ happy to see him--
But it changes to /confusion/ when he takes in Dazai by his side, a familiar
"Chuuya!" He says enthusiastically, his face softening. He looks /so/ happy to see him--
But it changes to /confusion/ when he takes in Dazai by his side, a familiar
pair of blue eyes taking him in from head to toe.
Dazai dressed /nicely/ for the occasion, slacks and a /sleek/ button down, as well as covering up his tattoos with a thick layer of foundation-- because he doesn't want to explain the bandages-- and even styled his /hair/. Still,
Dazai dressed /nicely/ for the occasion, slacks and a /sleek/ button down, as well as covering up his tattoos with a thick layer of foundation-- because he doesn't want to explain the bandages-- and even styled his /hair/. Still,
he can't help feeling /judged/.
He opens his mouth to introduce himself--
"Chuuya, who is this?" Rimbaud-- Dazai asked what his name was /before/ so he wouldn't look bad-- asks, looking back over at his son with a confused look.
Oh, they are /not/ off to a great start.
"My
He opens his mouth to introduce himself--
"Chuuya, who is this?" Rimbaud-- Dazai asked what his name was /before/ so he wouldn't look bad-- asks, looking back over at his son with a confused look.
Oh, they are /not/ off to a great start.
"My
boyfriend?" Chuuya says, giving him an /equally/ confused look look. "I told you he was coming? You said it was fine."
Rimbaud looks at him. Looks at Dazai. Back to Chuuya. "That is a /grown man/?"
What is with this family and making him feel /ancient/? It's not like he's
Rimbaud looks at him. Looks at Dazai. Back to Chuuya. "That is a /grown man/?"
What is with this family and making him feel /ancient/? It's not like he's
/decrepit/, but he's starting to fucking /feel like it/.
His smile stays in place out of sheer willpower.
Chuuya shoots his dad a /look/. "Obviously? What did you expect?Of course he's an adult?"
"No, no, I just expected someone..." Rimbaud /obviously thinks about it, and it's
His smile stays in place out of sheer willpower.
Chuuya shoots his dad a /look/. "Obviously? What did you expect?Of course he's an adult?"
"No, no, I just expected someone..." Rimbaud /obviously thinks about it, and it's
/clear/ that he settles on something different to say because of how hard Chuuya is staring at him, "..Different."
Oh, just you /wait/, Dazai thinks to himself half-hysterically, he doesn't even /know/ half of it yet. Just wait until he hears about his /background/. Or about
Oh, just you /wait/, Dazai thinks to himself half-hysterically, he doesn't even /know/ half of it yet. Just wait until he hears about his /background/. Or about
his /son/.
"Hello," he butts in before they can start gossiping about how old he is or something like that, "I'm Dazai, it's nice to meet you."
He even offers up his /hand/ to shake, because Chuuya told him Rimbaud thinks western culture is /fascinating/, grimly keeping his
"Hello," he butts in before they can start gossiping about how old he is or something like that, "I'm Dazai, it's nice to meet you."
He even offers up his /hand/ to shake, because Chuuya told him Rimbaud thinks western culture is /fascinating/, grimly keeping his
smile in place.
Rimbaud clears his expression, keeping his face and voice carefully neutral as he shakes his hand. "Hello, Dazai. I'm Rimbaud, Chuuya's /father/."-- he says that like Dazai is supposed to be /intimidated/ by him, which doesn't work in the way he /thinks/-- "Come
Rimbaud clears his expression, keeping his face and voice carefully neutral as he shakes his hand. "Hello, Dazai. I'm Rimbaud, Chuuya's /father/."-- he says that like Dazai is supposed to be /intimidated/ by him, which doesn't work in the way he /thinks/-- "Come
on in, you're the last ones to arrive."
Oh, /great/. Dazai's just getting thrown /straight/ into the fire, no waiting for the heat to build or /anything/.
Chuuya practically pulls him in by his arm, totally brushing by that /awkward/ introduction without a single care.
It's a
Oh, /great/. Dazai's just getting thrown /straight/ into the fire, no waiting for the heat to build or /anything/.
Chuuya practically pulls him in by his arm, totally brushing by that /awkward/ introduction without a single care.
It's a
smaller house, so the living room already seems packed full with three people standing in it chatting.
Chuuya brightens when he sees them. "Kyouka!" He calls, an excited grin on his face as he rushes over.
Dazai's /happy/ for him, he is. He knows he hasn't seen his sister for
Chuuya brightens when he sees them. "Kyouka!" He calls, an excited grin on his face as he rushes over.
Dazai's /happy/ for him, he is. He knows he hasn't seen his sister for
a few months and he knows he missed her--
But did he /really/ have to leave Dazai floundering awkwardly in the space between the hallway and the living room, wondering what he should /do/? He's not even going to /introduce/ them?
Rimbaud's disappeared off into what looks to be
But did he /really/ have to leave Dazai floundering awkwardly in the space between the hallway and the living room, wondering what he should /do/? He's not even going to /introduce/ them?
Rimbaud's disappeared off into what looks to be
the kitchen with a wave at his children.
Dazai is still clutching the bottle of wine in his hand, and he’s pretty sure it needs to breathe before they can drink it, so he should /probably/ go drop it off in the kitchen…
On the other hand, he can see Oda making small talk with
Dazai is still clutching the bottle of wine in his hand, and he’s pretty sure it needs to breathe before they can drink it, so he should /probably/ go drop it off in the kitchen…
On the other hand, he can see Oda making small talk with
Kouyou in the living room, looking /so/ at ease and comfortable that Dazai almost wants to /hit/ him for daring to have a /good/ relationship with the family when /he/ feels like he’s on the ropes already.
But—
His eyes catch on Chuuya, who’s squeezing his dark-haired sister
But—
His eyes catch on Chuuya, who’s squeezing his dark-haired sister
in a /giant/ hug. She’s squealing in protest, kicking her feet in a fake attempt to escape and she’s /laughing/, and /he’s/ laughing.
Dazai has always been prone to cowardice. If he /can/ avoid something he doesn’t want to do, if he can outthink it and out-strategize it, then
Dazai has always been prone to cowardice. If he /can/ avoid something he doesn’t want to do, if he can outthink it and out-strategize it, then
he absolutely will. If he doesn’t /want/ to do something, he will go out of his way for /hours/ just to think up ways to avoid it.
But for /Chuuya/, he’ll be brave. At least a little bit. Even if his father really /isn’t/ the terrifying monster his nervous stomach wants to
But for /Chuuya/, he’ll be brave. At least a little bit. Even if his father really /isn’t/ the terrifying monster his nervous stomach wants to
/believe/ he is.
He’s just a /guy/. Just a suburban /dad/ with a /mini-van/.
Dazai has /fucked/ scarier people than that. This is /nothing/. He’s going to walk in there, make /smooth/ conversation, /impress him/—
When he walks into the kitchen, Rimbaud is viciously chopping
He’s just a /guy/. Just a suburban /dad/ with a /mini-van/.
Dazai has /fucked/ scarier people than that. This is /nothing/. He’s going to walk in there, make /smooth/ conversation, /impress him/—
When he walks into the kitchen, Rimbaud is viciously chopping
some vegetables for a salad— they’re having some sort of pasta, he thinks, french cuisine to go with the /four/ wine bottles lined up on the counter— which is at /odds/ with the sunflower apron covering his chest.
His eyes snap up to meet him and Dazai almost /drops/ the wine.
His eyes snap up to meet him and Dazai almost /drops/ the wine.
“Uh,” he starts with, /incredibly/ elegant, he’s not sure why Rimbaud isn’t /fawning/ over him, “I brought wine. For dinner. For you. To drink. And Chuuya— for his birthday, of course,” —/not/ because he’s encouraging underage drinking, no, not at all, he would /never/, “So—“
He holds up the wine bottle like he needs to /prove/ that he has it, like he would lie about something so stupid as /that/. His smile feels painfully thin.
Setting the knife down—Dazai noticed he’s not /that/ skilled with a knife, but he doesn’t need to be, he just needs to be
Setting the knife down—Dazai noticed he’s not /that/ skilled with a knife, but he doesn’t need to be, he just needs to be
/passionate/ and have /motive/ to hurt Dazai, which he /does/— Rimbaud brushes off his fingers on his apron. He squints at the bottle, expression suspicion and ever-so-slightly judgemental. “I don’t have my glasses— bring it here. Let me see it.”
He needs /glasses/. Why is
He needs /glasses/. Why is
he terrified of a man that needs to wear /glasses/?
(He refuses to admit that /he’s/ started to need reading glasses lately, because that has /nothing/ to do with his age.)
At least he doesn’t trip on his way over, offering the bottle up easily.
Rimbaud takes it in hand,
(He refuses to admit that /he’s/ started to need reading glasses lately, because that has /nothing/ to do with his age.)
At least he doesn’t trip on his way over, offering the bottle up easily.
Rimbaud takes it in hand,
holding it up to the light and squinting at the label. His lips purse, his expression carefully neutral.
Dazai feels like his /entire/ opinion on him is hinging on how /much/ he likes the wine he brought. Nerves buzz through him as he waits for the verdict, because he doesn’t
Dazai feels like his /entire/ opinion on him is hinging on how /much/ he likes the wine he brought. Nerves buzz through him as he waits for the verdict, because he doesn’t
/know/ anything about wine. Chuuya told him what to buy and he trusts him but—
What if Rimbaud’s tastes had changed in the last few months? What if he asks him /questions/? What if he wants to talk about wine and Dazai looks like an idiot even /more/?
Rimbaud /sighs/.
Oh no.
What if Rimbaud’s tastes had changed in the last few months? What if he asks him /questions/? What if he wants to talk about wine and Dazai looks like an idiot even /more/?
Rimbaud /sighs/.
Oh no.
The pursed lips fade away and he actually offers Dazai a /smile/, lowering the wine and adding it to the line of bottles already on the counter. “This is lovely, thank you. It’s one of my favorite wines.”
Oh, /good/. He likes it. Everything is going /perfectly/.
Dazai’s knees
Oh, /good/. He likes it. Everything is going /perfectly/.
Dazai’s knees
feel a little weak. “You’re welcome,” he says warmly, “Chuuya helped me pick it out. I wanted to bring a gift for you.”
Now that this conversation went /okay/, he’s /fully/ planning on ducking out and going to introduce himself to the rest of the family because at least he’ll
Now that this conversation went /okay/, he’s /fully/ planning on ducking out and going to introduce himself to the rest of the family because at least he’ll
have /Oda/ there, and Chuuya, at least /some/ sort of support he can hide behind—
“Oh, so you /do/ have manners,” Rimbaud says, and even though his /words/ are biting, his tone is /friendly/, like it’s a joke.
But /is it/ a joke?
Dazai freezes in place, unsure what he’s
“Oh, so you /do/ have manners,” Rimbaud says, and even though his /words/ are biting, his tone is /friendly/, like it’s a joke.
But /is it/ a joke?
Dazai freezes in place, unsure what he’s
supposed to /say/ to that,unsure what he /means/.
“After all,” Rimbaud continues lightheartedly,pulling out a corkscrew and smoothly opening the bottle Dazai had brought. There’s a large empty glass vase-looking thing nearby that he pours the entire bottle in the let it breathe.
“After all,” Rimbaud continues lightheartedly,pulling out a corkscrew and smoothly opening the bottle Dazai had brought. There’s a large empty glass vase-looking thing nearby that he pours the entire bottle in the let it breathe.
“A man would /introduce himself/ to the parents before moving in with their child. That’s the polite thing to do.”
Dazai is torn between wanting to /bite back/ that Chuuya is a grown man, and /neither/ of them need to get Rimbaud’s permission to do /anything/—
And just /really/
Dazai is torn between wanting to /bite back/ that Chuuya is a grown man, and /neither/ of them need to get Rimbaud’s permission to do /anything/—
And just /really/
wanting him to like Dazai. This is his boyfriends /family/, this is someone /important/ to Chuuya.
It’s worth swallowing his pride, even if it tastes sour.
“Yes, well,” he mutters, dipping his head in silent apology. “We talked on the phone and it did not occur to me. The
It’s worth swallowing his pride, even if it tastes sour.
“Yes, well,” he mutters, dipping his head in silent apology. “We talked on the phone and it did not occur to me. The
relationship moved quickly.”
Rimbaud pounces on that /immediately/, smoothly transferring the salad he was making into a larger bowl. “Ah, yes. How long have you two been dating?”
“Officially, almost four months,” Dazai answers, doing some quick mental math. “We were seeing
Rimbaud pounces on that /immediately/, smoothly transferring the salad he was making into a larger bowl. “Ah, yes. How long have you two been dating?”
“Officially, almost four months,” Dazai answers, doing some quick mental math. “We were seeing
each other for a few months before that though.”
Rimbaud’s mouth twists slightly. “That would be… right around when he started college, right?”
Technically about two months in but close enough that Dazai nods cautiously.
Honestly, he’s /expecting/ an argument about that.
Rimbaud’s mouth twists slightly. “That would be… right around when he started college, right?”
Technically about two months in but close enough that Dazai nods cautiously.
Honestly, he’s /expecting/ an argument about that.
Because, from an outside perspective and from a /parental/ perspective, he can understand why that looks bad. Why it’s /suspicious/ that a newly independent college kid almost instantly found a boyfriend that is obviously older than him.
He doesn’t blame Rimbaud for being
He doesn’t blame Rimbaud for being
suspicious. Hell, if he had more parental instincts and /Shuuji/ brought home an older man only a few months into college, he’d probably throw a fit too.
He understands, but he doesn’t have to /like/ it.
Thankfully, Rimbaud doesn’t say anything to that specifically, choosing
He understands, but he doesn’t have to /like/ it.
Thankfully, Rimbaud doesn’t say anything to that specifically, choosing
to let that go with a thin smile. Instead, he starts in with a /different/ line of questioning. “Don’t you think you two are moving a bit /quickly/? Four months is not a long time, and I understand that his medical scare might have frightened you both,but living together already?
I mean, how /well/ do you really know each other? Living together is a big commitment."
Dazai has no idea what 'normal' relationships look like, but he does know this--
"It might seem fast to you, but it was a very natural progression of things. It felt right in the moment and
Dazai has no idea what 'normal' relationships look like, but he does know this--
"It might seem fast to you, but it was a very natural progression of things. It felt right in the moment and
it feels right now. If something changes, then I'm happy to discuss and accommodate him, but for now, we're happy," Dazai responds, shrugging with one shoulder and lifting his chin to give Rimbaud a steady glance. "And you're right-- maybe I don't know him as well as I should,
but I will spend the rest of my life getting to know him, and I will enjoy every moment of it."
Evidently he said /something/ right, because instead of coming up with /another/ question or squinting at him suspiciously, Rimbaud's gaze actually /softens/. He looks at him for a
Evidently he said /something/ right, because instead of coming up with /another/ question or squinting at him suspiciously, Rimbaud's gaze actually /softens/. He looks at him for a
long moment, quietly assessing.
Like he's actually /looking/ at Dazai instead of through him. Trying to get to /know/ him instead of just finding pieces of him that can be viewed as wrong.
Before he can say anything else, there's a call from the living room. "Dazai!"
That's
Like he's actually /looking/ at Dazai instead of through him. Trying to get to /know/ him instead of just finding pieces of him that can be viewed as wrong.
Before he can say anything else, there's a call from the living room. "Dazai!"
That's
Chuuya and Dazai /eagerly/ takes his cue to escape--
"Wait," Rimbaud stops him in his tracks, holding up a hand. "Take this with you."
In a series of smooth movements, Rimbaud procures a wine glass out of somewhere and fills it a quarter-full with the wine he poured into the
"Wait," Rimbaud stops him in his tracks, holding up a hand. "Take this with you."
In a series of smooth movements, Rimbaud procures a wine glass out of somewhere and fills it a quarter-full with the wine he poured into the
aerator. He offers it to Dazai with an expression that is just a little /warmer/ than the one before their conversation.
Dazai takes the wineglass, careful not to spill a drop as he turns on his heel and--
He's a man. He can admit it. He /flees/ into the living room.
Chuuya
Dazai takes the wineglass, careful not to spill a drop as he turns on his heel and--
He's a man. He can admit it. He /flees/ into the living room.
Chuuya
looks over his shoulder at him, eyes practically /sparkling/ with happiness, and Dazai is drawn to him like a moth to the flame.
He comes up behind him, pressing his front to his back. He drapes one arm over his shoulder and brings the other hand around to the front to offer up
He comes up behind him, pressing his front to his back. He drapes one arm over his shoulder and brings the other hand around to the front to offer up
the wine. Chuuya takes it with a grateful hum, pressing back against him as he takes a sip.
Dazai leans down, nudging the side of Chuuya's head with his cheek. "I wanna go home," he complains quietly in his ear. "Your dad is mean to me."
Chuuya pats his arm patronizingly and
Dazai leans down, nudging the side of Chuuya's head with his cheek. "I wanna go home," he complains quietly in his ear. "Your dad is mean to me."
Chuuya pats his arm patronizingly and
ignores him completely. "Dazai, this is Kyouka," he says instead, gesturing to his dark-haired sister.
Dazai offers her a welcoming smile, tipping his head in a greeting bow because he refuses to let Chuuya go.
She clearly takes after their father, with long black hair and a
Dazai offers her a welcoming smile, tipping his head in a greeting bow because he refuses to let Chuuya go.
She clearly takes after their father, with long black hair and a
slightly-darker pair of blue eyes. She's probably the most /interestingly/ dressed out of all of them. Her shirt is a black tee with a bunny face on the front, and she has striped black-and-white /suspenders/ that connect to her black skirt. She took her shoes off when she came
in, just like everyone else, but he's pretty sure the /giant/ knee-high platform boots adorned with buckles and zippers are probably hers.
She even has little pink bunny clips in her hair. It's /cute/, but eccentric, and she certainly doesn't look her twenty-two years.
"You
She even has little pink bunny clips in her hair. It's /cute/, but eccentric, and she certainly doesn't look her twenty-two years.
"You
already know Kouyou, and Oda," Chuuya continues, nodding at his sister and her boyfriend-slash-bodyguard.
Kouyou is /impeccably/ dressed in a modest red dress that compliments the fall of her long red hair. She even has cutting red eyeliner on, and a big pair of dragon earrings
Kouyou is /impeccably/ dressed in a modest red dress that compliments the fall of her long red hair. She even has cutting red eyeliner on, and a big pair of dragon earrings
dangling from her ears.
She looks like a Mafia boss on vacation, sleek and elegant and sensual and /powerful/.
She offers him a strained smile over the rim of her wineglass, nodding at him. Their relationship has been /weird/ lately. They've always been rather /rude/ to each
She looks like a Mafia boss on vacation, sleek and elegant and sensual and /powerful/.
She offers him a strained smile over the rim of her wineglass, nodding at him. Their relationship has been /weird/ lately. They've always been rather /rude/ to each
other, and they /never/ got along.
They /still/ don't get along, and he's pretty sure that she's actively trying to convince Chuuya to leave him, but she's acting /cordial/ to his face now. Not /friendly/, per se, but /civil/.
Oda, on the other hand, is her counterpart in all
They /still/ don't get along, and he's pretty sure that she's actively trying to convince Chuuya to leave him, but she's acting /cordial/ to his face now. Not /friendly/, per se, but /civil/.
Oda, on the other hand, is her counterpart in all
black. He looks as comfortable as can be, sipping idly on his own wine and not at /all/ looking nervous.
Which isn't /fair/, because not only is Oda only a /year/ younger than him,he's /actively/ in the Mafia, /and/ he has a polyamorous relationship with /two/ women--one of them
Which isn't /fair/, because not only is Oda only a /year/ younger than him,he's /actively/ in the Mafia, /and/ he has a polyamorous relationship with /two/ women--one of them
being Rimbaud's daughter--and he's /pretty sure/ they're /swingers/.
Really, Dazai is /normal/ in comparison, so why does /he/ have to feel like he's being targeted by Rimbaud? Why is /he/ the nervous one?
"How'd you get past the dad?" He mutters crossly, wishing he had his own
Really, Dazai is /normal/ in comparison, so why does /he/ have to feel like he's being targeted by Rimbaud? Why is /he/ the nervous one?
"How'd you get past the dad?" He mutters crossly, wishing he had his own
cup of whiskey to calm his nerves. "He's looking at me like I'm a walking /corpse/."
Oda flashes him a smile. "My youthful good looks and witty charm."
/Asshole./ He's /enjoying/ this.
Chuuya pats his arm again. "You're doing fine," he tells Dazai. "He hasn't threatened to sue
Oda flashes him a smile. "My youthful good looks and witty charm."
/Asshole./ He's /enjoying/ this.
Chuuya pats his arm again. "You're doing fine," he tells Dazai. "He hasn't threatened to sue
you yet. That's practically ringing endorsement."
"/Sue me/? For /what/?"
Kyouka shrugs. "Doesn't matter. It's just a threat. He's just...like that.Overprotective."
No offense, but that sounds /annoying/ and /ridiculous/?
"I've heard a lot about you," Kyouka continues, eyeing
"/Sue me/? For /what/?"
Kyouka shrugs. "Doesn't matter. It's just a threat. He's just...like that.Overprotective."
No offense, but that sounds /annoying/ and /ridiculous/?
"I've heard a lot about you," Kyouka continues, eyeing
him. "You're...shorter than I imagined."
Dazai blinks. He's never heard /that/ before. He's almost /absurdly/ tall, especially for Japan, and there have been /plenty/ of people who said he was /too/ tall.
He's never been called /short/. How does he even respond to that?
Dazai blinks. He's never heard /that/ before. He's almost /absurdly/ tall, especially for Japan, and there have been /plenty/ of people who said he was /too/ tall.
He's never been called /short/. How does he even respond to that?
There's a twinkle in her eye that he catches onto too late, and now he's convinced that she said that on /purpose/ to damage his ego but--
"Dinner's ready," Rimbaud calls from the kitchen. "Someone help me bring the food out."
Oda is the first to move, setting his glass down on
"Dinner's ready," Rimbaud calls from the kitchen. "Someone help me bring the food out."
Oda is the first to move, setting his glass down on
the table as he disappears into the kitchen to help.
Sighing mournfully at the idea of having to let his chibi go, Dazai goes to help as well.
There's only a handful of dishes, so it's not long before they're all settling down at the table to eat. Rimbaud is at the head of the
Sighing mournfully at the idea of having to let his chibi go, Dazai goes to help as well.
There's only a handful of dishes, so it's not long before they're all settling down at the table to eat. Rimbaud is at the head of the
table, with Chuuya on his left and Kyouka on his right. Dazai sitting next to Chuuya, Oda across from him and Kouyou at the end of the table.
Every one of them has a glass of wine. Even Dazai, who mournfully sniffs at his glass before taking a sip to be courteous. He wishes he
Every one of them has a glass of wine. Even Dazai, who mournfully sniffs at his glass before taking a sip to be courteous. He wishes he
had something /stronger/, but apparently this family loves their grape juice.
Everything is /easy/ as people pile up their plates with their respective foods, casual conversation made as they pass dishes back and forth over the table. Dazai /almost/ relaxes, thinking that dinner
Everything is /easy/ as people pile up their plates with their respective foods, casual conversation made as they pass dishes back and forth over the table. Dazai /almost/ relaxes, thinking that dinner
will be /easy/ and he'll have at least an hour of relaxation--
But he's wrong. Because if Rimbaud has learned /one/ thing while raising three children on his own, it's that if he wants to know something, then he has to /corner/ someone where they /can't leave/.
"So, Dazai," he
But he's wrong. Because if Rimbaud has learned /one/ thing while raising three children on his own, it's that if he wants to know something, then he has to /corner/ someone where they /can't leave/.
"So, Dazai," he
starts casually and Dazai's stomach /sinks/ into his pasta. "How did you and Chuuya meet?"
Oh /no/. That is /not/ a good question.
He hesitates, wondering what exactly he should /say/ because he doesn't want to /lie/ but the truth is... /awkward/. It's not like Chuuya and him
Oh /no/. That is /not/ a good question.
He hesitates, wondering what exactly he should /say/ because he doesn't want to /lie/ but the truth is... /awkward/. It's not like Chuuya and him
came up with a /story/ and he doesn't know exactly how much Chuuya told his father, and he doesn't want to lie if he already /knows/--
Thankfully,the love of his life,the apple of his eye, the /sweetest/ man Dazai has ever known,answers for him. "His son introduced us."
Oh boy.
Thankfully,the love of his life,the apple of his eye, the /sweetest/ man Dazai has ever known,answers for him. "His son introduced us."
Oh boy.
Dazau does /not/ look at Chuuya, but he discretely pinches him under the table because what the /hell/. He wasn't ready to have /this/ conversation. He's already on /thin ice/.
Rimbaud pauses, a bite of pasta halfway to his mouth. His eyebrows lower in confusion, and he looks
Rimbaud pauses, a bite of pasta halfway to his mouth. His eyebrows lower in confusion, and he looks
from Dazai to Chuuya and then back again.
The rest of the table is silent, but he can /see/ Oda's shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
"You have a son?"
Dazai smiles, his cheeks feeling like they might crack under the tension. He nods.
Slowly putting down his pasta,
The rest of the table is silent, but he can /see/ Oda's shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
"You have a son?"
Dazai smiles, his cheeks feeling like they might crack under the tension. He nods.
Slowly putting down his pasta,
Rimbaud laces his fingers together and rests his chin on them. That /warm/ expression from earlier is completely gone. "Well," he draws out, "How old is the little tyke? Chuuya's always been good with kids, so I'm not that surprised."
Oda /snickers/. Kouyou takes a /loud/ drink.
Oda /snickers/. Kouyou takes a /loud/ drink.
Dazai is going to /fake his death/. He's going to choke on his wine until he suffocates and then he's going to leave the country forever. "Eighteen."
Rimbaud tilts his head. "Sorry, what was that? I thought you said /eighteen/."
Dazai wants to /die/. Chuuya /knows/ what he did.
Rimbaud tilts his head. "Sorry, what was that? I thought you said /eighteen/."
Dazai wants to /die/. Chuuya /knows/ what he did.
He feed him to the /dogs/ and he's just sitting there, /smiling/ at him like he /loves/ him but he /hates/ him. He /hates/ Dazai, he has to.
He clears his throat, repeating himself louder. "He's eighteen. Shuuji is eighteen."
Rimbaud /stares/ at him, unblinking. Dazai is too
He clears his throat, repeating himself louder. "He's eighteen. Shuuji is eighteen."
Rimbaud /stares/ at him, unblinking. Dazai is too
afraid to look, staring at the wall just behind him, waiting to /die/.
"My son is eighteen," Rimbaud says slowly, making Dazai wince.
"Nineteen tomorrow," he mutters, like /that/ makes a huge difference.
"How old are /you/?" Is his next question, and Dazai is /writhing/ in
"My son is eighteen," Rimbaud says slowly, making Dazai wince.
"Nineteen tomorrow," he mutters, like /that/ makes a huge difference.
"How old are /you/?" Is his next question, and Dazai is /writhing/ in
embarrassment. The entire /table/ is staring at him expectantly, and Chuuya is /no/ help.
He's actually just put his hand on his thigh under the table as /moral support/ while he's /interrogated/.
"Thirty-four," he answers, voice wavering.
Silence. Horribly awkward silence.
He's actually just put his hand on his thigh under the table as /moral support/ while he's /interrogated/.
"Thirty-four," he answers, voice wavering.
Silence. Horribly awkward silence.
He can feel everybody /staring/ at him, and there's just the slow scraping of a metal fork over a plate as Kyouka /slowly/ eats her pasta, eyes bright with /glee/.
How did he get trapped in a family of /tormentors/?
He shoots Chuuya a look like 'help me' and Chuuya opens his
How did he get trapped in a family of /tormentors/?
He shoots Chuuya a look like 'help me' and Chuuya opens his
mouth--
"/I'm/ fourty-seven," Rimbaud announces, /clearly/ highlighting the fact that Dazai is closer to /his/ age than he is to Chuuya's.
He's going to pass out, this isn't /fair/. Someone /help him/.
Chuuya lifts his wine glass. "It's fine, Dad," he says, /calmly/, like
"/I'm/ fourty-seven," Rimbaud announces, /clearly/ highlighting the fact that Dazai is closer to /his/ age than he is to Chuuya's.
He's going to pass out, this isn't /fair/. Someone /help him/.
Chuuya lifts his wine glass. "It's fine, Dad," he says, /calmly/, like
he wasn’t watching Dazai /drown/. “Leave him alone. It’s not a big deal.”
Dazai wholeheartedly disagrees that /any/ of this is /fine/.
Rimbaud’s gaze cuts to Chuuya and he actually looks /angry/, his eyebrows lowered thunderously over his eyes. “Are you friends with his son—
Dazai wholeheartedly disagrees that /any/ of this is /fine/.
Rimbaud’s gaze cuts to Chuuya and he actually looks /angry/, his eyebrows lowered thunderously over his eyes. “Are you friends with his son—
Shuuji, is it?”
(And this one, Chuuya doesn’t /mean/ to throw Dazai under the bus—because he has enjoyed watching his boyfriend suffer in the name of harmless /revenge/ for keeping all those secrets— but can’t help it—)
Chuuya /cringes/. “God no. We made out a few times and
(And this one, Chuuya doesn’t /mean/ to throw Dazai under the bus—because he has enjoyed watching his boyfriend suffer in the name of harmless /revenge/ for keeping all those secrets— but can’t help it—)
Chuuya /cringes/. “God no. We made out a few times and
that’s it.”
Well, Dazai thinks to himself so hysterically that he’s swung back around to /calm/, at least no one has mentioned the time Shuuji tried to run Chuuya over yet. Some things are still sacred.
Rimbaud’s eyebrows shoot up so far they might as well be part of his
Well, Dazai thinks to himself so hysterically that he’s swung back around to /calm/, at least no one has mentioned the time Shuuji tried to run Chuuya over yet. Some things are still sacred.
Rimbaud’s eyebrows shoot up so far they might as well be part of his
hair. “Let me get this straight. You ‘made out’ with his son. His son introduced you to Dazai. And then you started dating. The /father/. A man nearly /twice/ your age.”
/Finally/, Chuuya’s face starts to get red with embarrassment. “Yeah.”
“/Chuuya!/“ Rimbaud gasps, pressing
/Finally/, Chuuya’s face starts to get red with embarrassment. “Yeah.”
“/Chuuya!/“ Rimbaud gasps, pressing
a hand to his chest. “I didn’t raise you to be such a— such a /hussy/.”
Now, Dazai would /normally/ be the first one to defend Chuuya if anyone /else/ ever even implied that he was a shameful whore.
But now he’s trying to bite back hysterical laughter at the word /hussy/ being
Now, Dazai would /normally/ be the first one to defend Chuuya if anyone /else/ ever even implied that he was a shameful whore.
But now he’s trying to bite back hysterical laughter at the word /hussy/ being
whispered over the table like it’s a /curse/ of the /highest/ order.
Plus, now /Chuuya/ is squirming with discomfort and Dazai is getting /vindictive/ pleasure out of that, out of not being the center of attention.
/Karma/, you little /hussy/, Dazai thinks to himself, finally
Plus, now /Chuuya/ is squirming with discomfort and Dazai is getting /vindictive/ pleasure out of that, out of not being the center of attention.
/Karma/, you little /hussy/, Dazai thinks to himself, finally
taking a bite out of his pasta—
Which is, naturally, when things go to /hell/.
“Don’t call me a /hussy/,” Chuuya says indignantly, and in very /youngest sibling/ behavior, he flings his hand out and points at Kouyou. “She’s the one dating /two/ people, call /her/ the hussy!”
Which is, naturally, when things go to /hell/.
“Don’t call me a /hussy/,” Chuuya says indignantly, and in very /youngest sibling/ behavior, he flings his hand out and points at Kouyou. “She’s the one dating /two/ people, call /her/ the hussy!”
Dazai swallows slowly, putting his fork back down. Across the table, Oda’s eyes are /wide/ and Kyouka looks like she’s /eating this up/.
“She’s /what/?!”
At the other end of the table, Kouyou throws her utensils down on her plate. “You traitorous /whore/?” She accuses Chuuya,
“She’s /what/?!”
At the other end of the table, Kouyou throws her utensils down on her plate. “You traitorous /whore/?” She accuses Chuuya,
throwing her hands up. “This isn’t /about me/. Leave me out of this, /dad-fucker/.”
Dazai doesn’t know if he should /cry/, laugh or be /offended/ that she spit ‘dad-fucker’ like it was an insult.
Chuuya sticks his nose up. “If Im going down I’m taking you all /with me/.”
Dazai doesn’t know if he should /cry/, laugh or be /offended/ that she spit ‘dad-fucker’ like it was an insult.
Chuuya sticks his nose up. “If Im going down I’m taking you all /with me/.”
Oda leans over to Kyouka, whispering something lowly in her ear.
(They’re taking bets.)
Meanwhile, Rimbaud looks /stressed/. “Are you /cheating/ on Oda? He’s such a nice man!”
Oh, so /Oda/ is the nice man, but /Dazai/ is being treated like the /devil/, even though they are
(They’re taking bets.)
Meanwhile, Rimbaud looks /stressed/. “Are you /cheating/ on Oda? He’s such a nice man!”
Oh, so /Oda/ is the nice man, but /Dazai/ is being treated like the /devil/, even though they are
almost /exactly/ the same.
“No!” Kouyou denies, and even Oda shakes his head in solidarity, “It’s just— we’re /both/ dating the same other person, it’s /fine/!”
Dazai wonders if it would be impossible to sneak away from the table without making a scene.
At least the attention
“No!” Kouyou denies, and even Oda shakes his head in solidarity, “It’s just— we’re /both/ dating the same other person, it’s /fine/!”
Dazai wonders if it would be impossible to sneak away from the table without making a scene.
At least the attention
is off him now.
Kouyou looks like she’s about to /vault/ over the table at her little brother, and Dazai pushes his food back so it won’t drop into his lap if she does—
“/Enough!/“ Rimbaud snaps, slamming his hands down on the table.
The entire group goes silent, ears burning
Kouyou looks like she’s about to /vault/ over the table at her little brother, and Dazai pushes his food back so it won’t drop into his lap if she does—
“/Enough!/“ Rimbaud snaps, slamming his hands down on the table.
The entire group goes silent, ears burning
with shame and embarrassment.
“I would like /one/ normal family dinner,” Rimbaud practically /hisses/, his fingers coming up to rub at his temples. “You’re /embarrassing/ me in front of our company.”
Personally, Dazai is just grateful he’s not being /questioned/ anymore but
“I would like /one/ normal family dinner,” Rimbaud practically /hisses/, his fingers coming up to rub at his temples. “You’re /embarrassing/ me in front of our company.”
Personally, Dazai is just grateful he’s not being /questioned/ anymore but
he’ll go along with whatever Rimbaud says as long as this conversation /stops/.
“I haven’t seen all my kids in one place for /years/,” he continues, glaring at everyone individually. “So we are /all/ going to get along and be /civil/ with eachother, got it?”
Chuuya, Kouyou and
“I haven’t seen all my kids in one place for /years/,” he continues, glaring at everyone individually. “So we are /all/ going to get along and be /civil/ with eachother, got it?”
Chuuya, Kouyou and
Kyouka all shrink in their seats, mumbling understanding too quietly to hear.
Oda is the only one who is /enthusiastically/ eating, eagerly reaching for seconds while everyone else is awkwardly picking at their plates.
Silent, strained, /awkward/ peace reigns for the next few
Oda is the only one who is /enthusiastically/ eating, eagerly reaching for seconds while everyone else is awkwardly picking at their plates.
Silent, strained, /awkward/ peace reigns for the next few
minutes and—
Dazai /really/ thinks it’s over. The worst has happened, there’s nothing left to talk about, they’ll move on soon—
“Daddy—“
Now, Dazai has been /coaching/ himself for the past two weeks, ever since he agreed to come to dinner. He /knew/ Chuuya unfortunately
Dazai /really/ thinks it’s over. The worst has happened, there’s nothing left to talk about, they’ll move on soon—
“Daddy—“
Now, Dazai has been /coaching/ himself for the past two weeks, ever since he agreed to come to dinner. He /knew/ Chuuya unfortunately
referred to his father like that sometimes, and he /swore/ to himself that he would /not/ respond to that.
He also asked Chuuya /not/ to call him that, but—
Chuuya /forgot/ and he’s been calling Dazai that for /months/ around the house, so often he calls him ‘daddy’ more than
He also asked Chuuya /not/ to call him that, but—
Chuuya /forgot/ and he’s been calling Dazai that for /months/ around the house, so often he calls him ‘daddy’ more than
he says his /name/,so he automatically looks up—
Only to lock eyes with Rimbaud /and/ Kouyou/.
For the first time,Oda looks a little /nervous/,his hand hovering with a bite of pasta near his mouth as the blood drains out of his expression—
Kyouka mouths ‘oh my god’ to herself.
Only to lock eyes with Rimbaud /and/ Kouyou/.
For the first time,Oda looks a little /nervous/,his hand hovering with a bite of pasta near his mouth as the blood drains out of his expression—
Kyouka mouths ‘oh my god’ to herself.
There’s just this awkward, horribly /invasive/ silence as Dazai looks at Rimbaud and Rimbaud looks at Kouyou and Kouyou looks at Dazai and Dazai looks at Kouyou and Rimbaud looks at Dazai—
Clearing his throat, Rimbaud raises his utensils and Kyouka is leaning forward like she’s
Clearing his throat, Rimbaud raises his utensils and Kyouka is leaning forward like she’s
expecting a /fight/ to break out, and even Oda is leaning back in his chair—
“Do not tell me /anything/,” Rimbaud says, oddly calm considering the rest of the evening, as he steadily takes a bite of pasta. “Chuuya, what did you need?”
The redhead is shrunken in his chair,
“Do not tell me /anything/,” Rimbaud says, oddly calm considering the rest of the evening, as he steadily takes a bite of pasta. “Chuuya, what did you need?”
The redhead is shrunken in his chair,
visibly squirming with discomfort and so red he almost matches his /hair/. “The wine, please,” he mutters, sounding like he wants to be anywhere else.
Everyone’s eyes fall to the wine bottle and they all realize at the same time—
The glass is /much/ closer to Dazai than it is
Everyone’s eyes fall to the wine bottle and they all realize at the same time—
The glass is /much/ closer to Dazai than it is
to Rimbaud.
There’s /another/ moment of silence as Dazai struggles on what to do because he can’t /ignore/ Chuuya but if he reaches for it then that will be like /acknowledging/ the mishap and then everyone will just /know/—
“Well?” Rimbaud asks, his eyes boring a hole in the
There’s /another/ moment of silence as Dazai struggles on what to do because he can’t /ignore/ Chuuya but if he reaches for it then that will be like /acknowledging/ the mishap and then everyone will just /know/—
“Well?” Rimbaud asks, his eyes boring a hole in the
side of Dazai’s face as he takes another bite. “You heard him. Hand it to the man.”
“Right,” Dazai mutters, clearing his throat awkwardly. He reaches over, picks up the bottle and places it in front of Chuuya.
Everyone pretends not to watch as Chuuya pours nearly an entire
“Right,” Dazai mutters, clearing his throat awkwardly. He reaches over, picks up the bottle and places it in front of Chuuya.
Everyone pretends not to watch as Chuuya pours nearly an entire
/glass/ of wine, chugs the whole thing, and then pours another quarter glass, a socially acceptable amount.
Dazai takes another bite of salad. His appetite is /gone/, but he can’t be /rude/ on top of inadvertently causing world war 3 in the family.
This is only dinner, he
Dazai takes another bite of salad. His appetite is /gone/, but he can’t be /rude/ on top of inadvertently causing world war 3 in the family.
This is only dinner, he
reminds himself, grimly resigning himself for whatever happens /after/. They have plans for a late-night movie showing after this.
Then they’ll come home for sleep—god, how is Dazai going to /sleep/ in the same house after all this— before waking up for brunch, a short day at a
Then they’ll come home for sleep—god, how is Dazai going to /sleep/ in the same house after all this— before waking up for brunch, a short day at a
local park, and lunch before everyone starts to head back to their respective homes.
Judging on the way Rimbaud is alternating between glaring at /Dazai/, looking at Kouyou and frowning at Oda—
Honestly, he’s not sure he’s going to /survive/. If Rimbaud doesn’t kill him, then
Judging on the way Rimbaud is alternating between glaring at /Dazai/, looking at Kouyou and frowning at Oda—
Honestly, he’s not sure he’s going to /survive/. If Rimbaud doesn’t kill him, then
Kouyou probably will and if /they/ don’t—
Dazai might just do it his damn self.
Surprisingly, the rest of dinner is… mostly mundane. There’s still some lingering tension, and things get a little awkward when Chuuya drinks a little /too/ much and Dazai moves the bottle out of
Dazai might just do it his damn self.
Surprisingly, the rest of dinner is… mostly mundane. There’s still some lingering tension, and things get a little awkward when Chuuya drinks a little /too/ much and Dazai moves the bottle out of
reach, but mostly things are /way/ calmer than they were initially. Dazai actually manages to hold an entire conversation with Rimbaud that doesn’t end up with him embarrassing himself.
The movie after is okay too. It’s some action film that Dazai doesn’t catch the name of,
The movie after is okay too. It’s some action film that Dazai doesn’t catch the name of,
because he’s not a big movie person and he honestly doesn’t care that much. He’s only here and watching it because Chuuya wanted him to come.
There /is/ a bit of a tense moment in the middle of the movie when there’s a bucket of water dragged on screen, the metallic screech and
There /is/ a bit of a tense moment in the middle of the movie when there’s a bucket of water dragged on screen, the metallic screech and
the slosh of water making Chuuya shudder and turn his face into Dazai’s chest.
He’s there in an instant, covering one of his ears and mumbling quiet reassurances into his air until it’s okay for him to look again.
Kouyou knows and Oda knows, so they both respectfully ignore
He’s there in an instant, covering one of his ears and mumbling quiet reassurances into his air until it’s okay for him to look again.
Kouyou knows and Oda knows, so they both respectfully ignore
the show. The most Kouyou does is reach over and squeeze his shoulder in silent support.
But /Rimbaud/ doesn’t know, and even though Chuuya doesn’t make a /fuss/ and he’s back to watching the movie in a few minutes, he can /tell/ that something is different.
Dazai locks eyes
But /Rimbaud/ doesn’t know, and even though Chuuya doesn’t make a /fuss/ and he’s back to watching the movie in a few minutes, he can /tell/ that something is different.
Dazai locks eyes
with him over Chuuya’s head when he’s comforting him, silent in the movie theater.
And Rimbaud watches for a moment, his expression questioning and thoughtful, before eventually looking away again.
Dazai tries to make the moment look /romantic/ so that Chuuya doesn’t have to
And Rimbaud watches for a moment, his expression questioning and thoughtful, before eventually looking away again.
Dazai tries to make the moment look /romantic/ so that Chuuya doesn’t have to
come up with a /lie/ to tell him,but he’s not sure if it works.
He just hopes Rimbaud can sense that even though his children all love him and cherish him—
They’re grown up now. And they have secrets, they might need other people more, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love him.
He just hopes Rimbaud can sense that even though his children all love him and cherish him—
They’re grown up now. And they have secrets, they might need other people more, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love him.
There is a point where Dazai slips away for a few moments while everyone is crowding into an ice cream shop for dessert. There’s a convenience store not even a block away, and he ducks in to buy a pack of cigarettes.
It’s been a /long/ time since he’s smoked regularly, but it’s
It’s been a /long/ time since he’s smoked regularly, but it’s
been a /stressful/ day, so he deserves a little stress relief.
Besides, he’s fairly certain Oda still smokes, and it’s a good excuse to catch up with him. They haven’t really talked since Dazai pointed a gun at him, and while he’s sure there won’t be any hard feelings— it’s far
Besides, he’s fairly certain Oda still smokes, and it’s a good excuse to catch up with him. They haven’t really talked since Dazai pointed a gun at him, and while he’s sure there won’t be any hard feelings— it’s far
from the /first/ time they’ve held a gun to each other’s heads— he’s sure Oda will be /less/ happy that he indirectly threatened Kouyou.
The man takes his job seriously. If Dazai were anyone else, his existence would’ve been wiped from the planet by now. Oda might not be /cruel/
The man takes his job seriously. If Dazai were anyone else, his existence would’ve been wiped from the planet by now. Oda might not be /cruel/
but he is protective, loyal to a fault.
He's also in /love/, and Dazai can understand the sentiment. There isn't much he wouldn't do to keep Chuuya safe and happy.
When he returns, only Chuuya seems to have noticed he slipped away for a few minutes. He beams at him, his
He's also in /love/, and Dazai can understand the sentiment. There isn't much he wouldn't do to keep Chuuya safe and happy.
When he returns, only Chuuya seems to have noticed he slipped away for a few minutes. He beams at him, his
happiness all the more tangible and obvious when he's surrounded by the people he loves.
Dazai takes his place next to him easily, dropping an arm over his shoulders. Chuuya offers him a bite of his ice cream-- dark cherry chocolate-- and even though it's Dazai's least favorite
Dazai takes his place next to him easily, dropping an arm over his shoulders. Chuuya offers him a bite of his ice cream-- dark cherry chocolate-- and even though it's Dazai's least favorite
flavor, he still leans down and obediently opens his mouth.
The sweetness of chocolate has nothing on how sweet Chuuya's smile makes him feel.
After that, the group spends a little while roaming the local shopping mall, taking in all the sights. Dazai hasn't been to a smaller
The sweetness of chocolate has nothing on how sweet Chuuya's smile makes him feel.
After that, the group spends a little while roaming the local shopping mall, taking in all the sights. Dazai hasn't been to a smaller
cities in a while, and there’s something… homey about it’s simpler charms. It’s not as /loud/ as the big cities are, and not so bright.
Quieter, in a way that makes Dazai feel like he might belong if he decided to make a home here.
His arm squeezes over Chuuya’s shoulders. If
Quieter, in a way that makes Dazai feel like he might belong if he decided to make a home here.
His arm squeezes over Chuuya’s shoulders. If
/they/ decide to make a home here, he silently amends himself, secure in his secret thoughts.
He won’t put words to it yet but—
Maybe someday. Maybe if he’s lucky enough.
Despite the /awkwardness/ of the initial meeting, Dazai actually gets along pretty well with the group.
He won’t put words to it yet but—
Maybe someday. Maybe if he’s lucky enough.
Despite the /awkwardness/ of the initial meeting, Dazai actually gets along pretty well with the group.
There’s still lingering tension between him and Kouyou, but Oda is as deadpan-funny as he always is. Rimbaud is /suspicious/ of Dazai, but he’s friendly enough. Kyouka is rebellious and /sneaky/ and she has this way of inciting chaos just to watch the world burn that is funny.
Chuuya is not the /greatest/ of peace-makers—he gets into a heated fight with Kyouka about how Xbox is /way/ better than PlayStation for at least ten minutes—but there’s something about his loud exuberance that’s contagious.
All in all, the first evening goes great. Dazai waves
All in all, the first evening goes great. Dazai waves
goodbye to Kyouka as they make their way out of the mall. She got a hotel nearby, and she’s eager to duck out in a way that speaks of someone or something waiting for her there.
Unfortunately, Dazai didn’t find anything to get Chuuya for his birthday at the stores, but he
Unfortunately, Dazai didn’t find anything to get Chuuya for his birthday at the stores, but he
already has a few things that he ordered online and another few ideas that he’ll complete once they get back home.
After all, it’s his /first/ birthday they’re going to celebrate together, and Dazai doesn’t want to do anything by half. After the year his chibi has had, he
After all, it’s his /first/ birthday they’re going to celebrate together, and Dazai doesn’t want to do anything by half. After the year his chibi has had, he
deserves to be spoiled.
Not that he isn't already-- a fact Chuuya would /argue/ against-- but it's his birthday, and a little extra spoiling is good.
When they arrive back at Rimbaud's place, Kouyou and Chuuya head inside with their father. Dazai settles on the cramped front
Not that he isn't already-- a fact Chuuya would /argue/ against-- but it's his birthday, and a little extra spoiling is good.
When they arrive back at Rimbaud's place, Kouyou and Chuuya head inside with their father. Dazai settles on the cramped front
porch to give them some private time, extracting the pack of cigarettes he'd stashed in his pocket.
Packing the tobacco with a few slaps of the pack on the palm of his hand, opening it up and bringing one to his lips is a long-forgotten habit that feels as familiar as it does
Packing the tobacco with a few slaps of the pack on the palm of his hand, opening it up and bringing one to his lips is a long-forgotten habit that feels as familiar as it does
new.
"So," a teasing voice interrupts, "You survived your first day. How's it feel?"
Dazai looks up but as Oda comes to a stop on the porch, leaning against a pillar. He looks relaxed and happy, a playful grin on his face his hands shoved in his pockets.
Rolling his eyes,
"So," a teasing voice interrupts, "You survived your first day. How's it feel?"
Dazai looks up but as Oda comes to a stop on the porch, leaning against a pillar. He looks relaxed and happy, a playful grin on his face his hands shoved in his pockets.
Rolling his eyes,
Dazai tosses the pack at him. Oda catches it easily, hoping up to sit on the railway framing the porch. It doesn’t look strong enough to hold someone like him, but that doesn’t seem to bother him.
“Stressful,” Dazai mutters, taking a long drag and feeling a low buzz begin to
“Stressful,” Dazai mutters, taking a long drag and feeling a low buzz begin to
grow in his veins. Nicotine highs are such a /strange/ one to him, a high that makes his body feel hollow but his mind clear.
“Mm,” Oda hums, taking out a cigarette and cupping his hands around his mouth to light the end. The brief flash of the lighter makes his eyes flare in
“Mm,” Oda hums, taking out a cigarette and cupping his hands around his mouth to light the end. The brief flash of the lighter makes his eyes flare in
the dimming twilight. Sunset has passed long ago. "To be fair, you did a lot better than I thought you would. He /cried/ when he met me. Something about his kids being all grown up now."
Unbidden, Dazai's lips twitch with amusement. The mental image of that is hilarious. "I'm
Unbidden, Dazai's lips twitch with amusement. The mental image of that is hilarious. "I'm
surprised he didn't run me out, especially after the--"
He shuts his mouth before he brings up the /daddy/ thing, because going through it was already bad enough, and relieving the visceral embarrassment of it might put him in an early grave.
Oda laughs though, knowing exactly
He shuts his mouth before he brings up the /daddy/ thing, because going through it was already bad enough, and relieving the visceral embarrassment of it might put him in an early grave.
Oda laughs though, knowing exactly
what he's talking about even if he doesn't /say/ it. He doesn't know why /he's/ laughing, because he distinctly remembers making awkward eye contact with Kouyou during that, not that he's going to think too deeply on why she looked up.
"Nah. He likes you," he says confidently,
"Nah. He likes you," he says confidently,
like he doesn’t even have to think about that.
Dazai… doubts that. There have been very, /very/ few people that have actually liked him. Maybe temporarily, maybe in the context of a situation—
But /truly/ liked him? Only a handful of people have ever done that, not that he’s
Dazai… doubts that. There have been very, /very/ few people that have actually liked him. Maybe temporarily, maybe in the context of a situation—
But /truly/ liked him? Only a handful of people have ever done that, not that he’s
ever gone out of his way to be liked.
It’s fine. He’s gotten used to it over the years.
When Dazai snorts disbelievingly, Oda kicks a booted foot out at him. “It’s true,” he insists. “The man only wants what’s best for his kids, and he’s have to be blind to not see how much
It’s fine. He’s gotten used to it over the years.
When Dazai snorts disbelievingly, Oda kicks a booted foot out at him. “It’s true,” he insists. “The man only wants what’s best for his kids, and he’s have to be blind to not see how much
you love Chuuya. Or he loves you.”
That’s true. Dazai’s lips curl into a small smile around his cigarette. There are very few things he’s done right in his life, but Chuuya will always be one of them.
He’s not perfect by any means, but he’ll try his best.
He hopes Oda is
That’s true. Dazai’s lips curl into a small smile around his cigarette. There are very few things he’s done right in his life, but Chuuya will always be one of them.
He’s not perfect by any means, but he’ll try his best.
He hopes Oda is
right, because Dazai doesn't have a /lot/ of practice in making himself more palatable for others but he does want Chuuya's family to like him. They're important to him, and thus, they're important to Dazai.
"You deserve to be liked, Osamu," Oda says suddenly, with a intensity
"You deserve to be liked, Osamu," Oda says suddenly, with a intensity
that he rarely gets, only when he /means/ it. "I know we've all done bad things, and I know you've been hurt a lot, but--" he shrugs helplessly, taking another drag, "--you deserve to be liked. You deserve to be loved."
Dazai blinks at his old friend, torn between shrugging the
Dazai blinks at his old friend, torn between shrugging the
odd proclamation off by ignoring it or denying it the way his gut makes him want to.
Pain is a dull, familiar friend,and it only hurts worse if you start to realize you don't deserve it.
Before he can decide, the front door is opening up again and two redheads are stepping out.
Pain is a dull, familiar friend,and it only hurts worse if you start to realize you don't deserve it.
Before he can decide, the front door is opening up again and two redheads are stepping out.
One of them-- the taller of the two-- goes immediately to Oda, reaching up to grab his jaw, perfectly manicured nails digging slightly into his cheeks. "I thought you quit smoking," Kouyou says, voice soft despite the imperiousness of her words.
Oda's smile is garbled with how
Oda's smile is garbled with how
she's squishing his cheeks, but it's genuine all the same. "I did."
He leans forward, obviously trying to go for a kiss, but Kouyou pushes him back. "You're not kissing me with that ashtray for a mouth," she denies, patting him on the cheek. "We're leaving, get in the car."
It
He leans forward, obviously trying to go for a kiss, but Kouyou pushes him back. "You're not kissing me with that ashtray for a mouth," she denies, patting him on the cheek. "We're leaving, get in the car."
It
should be embarrassing how quickly Oda hops up to follow orders, but Dazai's attention is eclipsed by something /far/ more important to him:
Chuuya, beaming like the sun when he spots Dazai on the chair, padding over to him.
There's something so /domestic/ and wonderfully
Chuuya, beaming like the sun when he spots Dazai on the chair, padding over to him.
There's something so /domestic/ and wonderfully
familiar about how easily Chuuya approaches him, sliding into his lap with one knee on either side of his hips. It speaks to how comfortable he is with him, that he doesn't even hesitate before touching him.
"Hi," he says, like the few minutes they were seperated from each other
"Hi," he says, like the few minutes they were seperated from each other
was a distance worthy enough to be greeted again now that he's returned.
Dazai's smile is big, unable to contain the overflowing affection in his chest. He lifts his hand, moving the still-lit cigarette downwind so none of the smoke gets in Chuuya's face. "Hello."
Kouyou clears
Dazai's smile is big, unable to contain the overflowing affection in his chest. He lifts his hand, moving the still-lit cigarette downwind so none of the smoke gets in Chuuya's face. "Hello."
Kouyou clears
her throat awkwardly, looking like she wants to say something but isn’t quite sure what.Hesitance isn’t something that settles naturally on her shoulders, but it’s been something that’s been showing up more often now.
Their relationship— both Kouyou’s with Chuuya and with Dazai—
Their relationship— both Kouyou’s with Chuuya and with Dazai—
has been understandably /strained/ ever since the… /incident/, as Chuuya likes to refer to it. None of them really know where they stand with eachother, and Chuuya has been working through a lot of anger and betrayal Kouyou’s secrets have brought in him.
He’s better now, but
He’s better now, but
there are parts of him that will never be the same. There’s a defensive anger that flares up more easily and hotly than ever before, and there are still some nights he can’t bear to have the lights off.
They’ll work through it with time, Dazai’s sure, and he does his best to
They’ll work through it with time, Dazai’s sure, and he does his best to
encourage Chuuya to reach out but—
He has his /own/ issues with Kouyou to work through, and it’s not like she’s ever liked him either. Truth be told, it’s awkward for everyone.
Kouyou has been surprisingly civil for the entire trip, and even now she just blows her bangs out
He has his /own/ issues with Kouyou to work through, and it’s not like she’s ever liked him either. Truth be told, it’s awkward for everyone.
Kouyou has been surprisingly civil for the entire trip, and even now she just blows her bangs out
her eyes. “See you two tomorrow?”
It’s /progress/, of sorts, that she includes Dazai instead of frostily ignoring his existence. Hell, he’s starting to feel welcomed.
Chuuya waves at her, his expression slightly stilted now that he doesn’t have company to distract him. “Yeah.”
It’s /progress/, of sorts, that she includes Dazai instead of frostily ignoring his existence. Hell, he’s starting to feel welcomed.
Chuuya waves at her, his expression slightly stilted now that he doesn’t have company to distract him. “Yeah.”
Kouyou hesitates, looking like she wants to say /more/, but eventually let’s it go. She turns with her own wave goodbye, and heads down the drive.
“Say hi to Yosano for me,” Dazai calls after her, asking his cigarette. He takes another drag, carefully keeping his face turned so
“Say hi to Yosano for me,” Dazai calls after her, asking his cigarette. He takes another drag, carefully keeping his face turned so
none of the smoke gets in Chuuya's face. He might be a murderer, but he has /manners/.
It's Oda that acknowledges his words, raising a hand from where he's leaning against the driver side of their car waiting for Kouyou to get in. She does so without hesitating, murmuring
It's Oda that acknowledges his words, raising a hand from where he's leaning against the driver side of their car waiting for Kouyou to get in. She does so without hesitating, murmuring
something over the roof of the car to him that makes him smile.
Then it's just him and Chuuya, alone for the first time since they arrived hours ago. Not /completely/ alone, because Rimbaud is in the house somewhere, possibly listening in or peeking out the window to make sure
Then it's just him and Chuuya, alone for the first time since they arrived hours ago. Not /completely/ alone, because Rimbaud is in the house somewhere, possibly listening in or peeking out the window to make sure
Dazai isn't /corrupting/ his son or something like that.
He hadn't realized how spoiled he'd gotten with having Chuuya all to himself for most of the time until he had to share him. Part of him just wants to curl up with Chuuya and shamelessly beg for attention until he's all
He hadn't realized how spoiled he'd gotten with having Chuuya all to himself for most of the time until he had to share him. Part of him just wants to curl up with Chuuya and shamelessly beg for attention until he's all
warm and fuzzy inside.
"I didn't know you smoked," Chuuya says, shifting to get more comfortable on his lap. He's gained weight again, his recovery evident in how much healthier he looks, and Dazai cherishes every second of it.
He shrugs. "I don't, really. It was a bad habit I
"I didn't know you smoked," Chuuya says, shifting to get more comfortable on his lap. He's gained weight again, his recovery evident in how much healthier he looks, and Dazai cherishes every second of it.
He shrugs. "I don't, really. It was a bad habit I
kicked years ago. I haven't smoked in a while."
Chuuya looks at him, blue eyes seeming to look /through/ him, straight to his soul, reading between the lines. Before, it would've made Dazai /uncomfortable/, but now it just makes him feel...seen. Safe. Secure and known and loved.
Chuuya looks at him, blue eyes seeming to look /through/ him, straight to his soul, reading between the lines. Before, it would've made Dazai /uncomfortable/, but now it just makes him feel...seen. Safe. Secure and known and loved.
"What made you start again?"
Dazai scrunches his nose at him. "Specifically the moment you mentioned Shuuji."
Chuuya /laughs/ at him, the little brat, sliding closer and giving him the doe-eyed innocent look that he knows he can't resist. "It wasn't /that/ bad," he teases, "You
Dazai scrunches his nose at him. "Specifically the moment you mentioned Shuuji."
Chuuya /laughs/ at him, the little brat, sliding closer and giving him the doe-eyed innocent look that he knows he can't resist. "It wasn't /that/ bad," he teases, "You
survived, didn’t you?”
“Barely.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Chuuya snickers, reaching up and wrapping his fingers around Dazai’s wrist. He barely even tugs, but even the lightest pressure from him would have Dazai bending. “Dad might be intimidating, but he likes you.”
Guiding
“Barely.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Chuuya snickers, reaching up and wrapping his fingers around Dazai’s wrist. He barely even tugs, but even the lightest pressure from him would have Dazai bending. “Dad might be intimidating, but he likes you.”
Guiding
his hand to his mouth, Chuuya finds the butt of the cigarette and takes a drag without ever pulling the stick out of his fingers.
He’s overzealous though, and takes a /big/ hit, clearly overestimating his abilities to handle the smoke. There’s a second where his eyes squeeze
He’s overzealous though, and takes a /big/ hit, clearly overestimating his abilities to handle the smoke. There’s a second where his eyes squeeze
shut, watering quickly.
Then Dazai has to take his hand back quickly as he launches into a series of hard coughs, hoarse.
“That’s,” he croaks between coughs, blinking away tears, “not what I remembered it was like.”
Ah, yes. Dazai remembers hearing all about the two weeks
Then Dazai has to take his hand back quickly as he launches into a series of hard coughs, hoarse.
“That’s,” he croaks between coughs, blinking away tears, “not what I remembered it was like.”
Ah, yes. Dazai remembers hearing all about the two weeks
Chuuya became a “rebel” during his last semester of highschool and spent his lunches chain smoking underneath the school bleachers. He even, he had boasted, ditched school once to go to an /arcade/, just because he could.
Cute. Dazai /likes/ the rebellious side of him, even if
Cute. Dazai /likes/ the rebellious side of him, even if
he doesn’t indulge in it often.
“That was over a year ago,” he reminds him, unable to help his fond smile, “and these are menthols. They hit harder, at first.”
Recovered from his coughing fit, Chuuya makes a face at him. “Alright, cool guy,” he mutters, then makes grabby hands
“That was over a year ago,” he reminds him, unable to help his fond smile, “and these are menthols. They hit harder, at first.”
Recovered from his coughing fit, Chuuya makes a face at him. “Alright, cool guy,” he mutters, then makes grabby hands
at his cigarette again. “Give it back, it tasted good.”
Normally, Dazai would /share/, but Oda stole the pack from him when he left and he’s only had a few drags himself. The thrumming undercurrent of anxiety hasn’t subsided yet, and he doesn’t trust Chuuya not to accidentally
Normally, Dazai would /share/, but Oda stole the pack from him when he left and he’s only had a few drags himself. The thrumming undercurrent of anxiety hasn’t subsided yet, and he doesn’t trust Chuuya not to accidentally
burn the whole thing down in his overeager pulls.
“I got a better idea,” he says, tilting his head back and bringing the cigarette to his own mouth.
This time, instead of letting the sharp-harsh smoke settle in his lungs, he lets it pool in his mouth. The taste of it is
“I got a better idea,” he says, tilting his head back and bringing the cigarette to his own mouth.
This time, instead of letting the sharp-harsh smoke settle in his lungs, he lets it pool in his mouth. The taste of it is
somewhere between minty and ashy, fresh fire that burns clean and cold and low. It makes his tongue tingle, his head lightening with prolonged nicotine.
When he feels he has enough, he tilts his chin back down. With his free hand, he reaches up, thumb pressing gently to Chuuya’s
When he feels he has enough, he tilts his chin back down. With his free hand, he reaches up, thumb pressing gently to Chuuya’s
lower lip. It gives for him easily,mouth parting on an easy breath,blue-hot eyes locked on the thin trail of smoke escaping from the corner of Dazai's mouth like it's the only thing he can see.
With a slight smirk, Dazai tips his head to make the angle better and leans forward.
With a slight smirk, Dazai tips his head to make the angle better and leans forward.
Close enough that their lips brush, and he can sense the vibrating energy in Chuuya, a desire to push forward and seek out what he wants.
Instead, Dazai /blows/, transferring the stream of smoke in a delicate, intimate exchange. He keeps his eyes half-lidded, open just enough to
Instead, Dazai /blows/, transferring the stream of smoke in a delicate, intimate exchange. He keeps his eyes half-lidded, open just enough to
watch as Chuuya's eyes drift shut. He inhales at the same time, and it's almost a perfect exchange. He doesn't cough this time, probably because he's bringing in air at the same time, dulling the burn of smoke.
His weight gets heavier in his lap as he leans forward, chasing
His weight gets heavier in his lap as he leans forward, chasing
after the smoke for a kiss, one of his hands finding Dazai's shoulder and digging in like he's afraid he's going to slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.
Dazai lets their lips meet in an /achingly/ soft kiss, something that shouldn't feel so tender and loving when it's
Dazai lets their lips meet in an /achingly/ soft kiss, something that shouldn't feel so tender and loving when it's
tinged with the taste of acrid smoke.
They haven't kissed since they arrived hours earlier, and Dazai is surprised to see how much he /misses/ the ability to just kiss Chuuya whenever he feels like it. He's gotten spoiled,having his baby nearby at all times, for him to kiss and
They haven't kissed since they arrived hours earlier, and Dazai is surprised to see how much he /misses/ the ability to just kiss Chuuya whenever he feels like it. He's gotten spoiled,having his baby nearby at all times, for him to kiss and
hold and touch, whenever he wants.
But because they're at his /father's/ house, and Rimbaud /insisted/ on them staying the night, Dazai keeps the kiss short and light. He pulls back after a long moment, keeping Chuuya from chasing after him with the hand on his chin.
His thumb
But because they're at his /father's/ house, and Rimbaud /insisted/ on them staying the night, Dazai keeps the kiss short and light. He pulls back after a long moment, keeping Chuuya from chasing after him with the hand on his chin.
His thumb
smudges Chuuya’s growing pout, but it’s almost as devastatingly successful as it usually is.
“Better?” He asks before Chuuya can ask him to kiss him again—something Dazai /won’t/ deny him, but he’s trying to be /good/— and brings the cigarette back to his own lips. This time,
“Better?” He asks before Chuuya can ask him to kiss him again—something Dazai /won’t/ deny him, but he’s trying to be /good/— and brings the cigarette back to his own lips. This time,
the smoke somehow manages to taste sweeter with the aftermath of their kiss.
Deciding to show off just a /bit/, Dazai takes a long pull and fills his mouth with smoke. He moves his tongue to the back of his mouth and rounds his lips, puffing out a tiny bit of smoke in a gentle
Deciding to show off just a /bit/, Dazai takes a long pull and fills his mouth with smoke. He moves his tongue to the back of his mouth and rounds his lips, puffing out a tiny bit of smoke in a gentle
‘O’ that breaks apart after only a few minutes of floating on air.
Chuuya watches it, eyes sparkling with amazement. “I didn’t know you could do tricks.”
Dazai hums in answer, focusing on making the next ‘O’ a little bigger. He’d learned years ago, when he was still wandering
Chuuya watches it, eyes sparkling with amazement. “I didn’t know you could do tricks.”
Dazai hums in answer, focusing on making the next ‘O’ a little bigger. He’d learned years ago, when he was still wandering
through the world after he left the mafia. He doesn’t remember a /lot/ of that time, but he does remember laying on a bed in a shitty hotel, hitting a stolen vape with the highest nicotine content he could find, his head spinning and spinning and spinning, the ceiling shrouded by
a layer of broken-apart smoke rings and his blurry eyesight. The overpowering taste of watermelon-lime, water vapor in his nose.
Chuuya doesn’t ask for another hit, seemingly content with watching him take another slow drag. He’s warm compared to the cooking air outside, the
Chuuya doesn’t ask for another hit, seemingly content with watching him take another slow drag. He’s warm compared to the cooking air outside, the
sun-warmed skin on his cheeks pinker than usual. Dazai reminded him to put on sunscreen for the drive, but he didn't listen.
A new freckle has bloomed high on his cheek sometime in the last few weeks. Dazai adds it to his mental map of the natural-born constellations stretching
A new freckle has bloomed high on his cheek sometime in the last few weeks. Dazai adds it to his mental map of the natural-born constellations stretching
across his skin.
When Chuuya speaks up again, it's quieter, more hushed. Gone is the playful teasing from before, replaced by something more sentimental. "Thank you for coming. I know things like this are hard for you and you probably didn't want to anyway and it was awkward in
When Chuuya speaks up again, it's quieter, more hushed. Gone is the playful teasing from before, replaced by something more sentimental. "Thank you for coming. I know things like this are hard for you and you probably didn't want to anyway and it was awkward in
the middle but-- thanks for coming anyways."
Dazai slides his hand over to cup his cheek, swiping his thumb over the new freckle. "You don't have to thank me, little love. I'm happy you brought me home."
Chuuya hums, leaning into his hand. It's too dark to see properly, but his
Dazai slides his hand over to cup his cheek, swiping his thumb over the new freckle. "You don't have to thank me, little love. I'm happy you brought me home."
Chuuya hums, leaning into his hand. It's too dark to see properly, but his
eyes are filled with so much emotion they practically burn.
This time, when Dazai takes the final drag off the cigarette, he lets the smoke pool in his mouth again. It escapes his mouth in wispy tendrils,and he inhales them again through his nose, like a dragon.
Chuuya watches
This time, when Dazai takes the final drag off the cigarette, he lets the smoke pool in his mouth again. It escapes his mouth in wispy tendrils,and he inhales them again through his nose, like a dragon.
Chuuya watches
him again, and /this/ time, there's a spark in his eyes that Dazai doesn't quite catch. He slides closer, wiggling further into his lap and draping his arms over his shoulders. "Are you ready for bed soon?"
An abrupt change of subject, but Dazai goes along with it easily. They
An abrupt change of subject, but Dazai goes along with it easily. They
do have an early morning tomorrow— Rimbaud mentioned wanting to do something with Chuuya before they all met up together again for brunch. It was a long drive here, too, and the entire evening was filled with excitement.
He’s glad Chuuya brought it up, because he’s certain he
He’s glad Chuuya brought it up, because he’s certain he
couldn’t mention the fact that /he/ was tired too without getting some comment about being an /old man/.
He’s already had enough of /that/ today.
There’s no ashtray outside, probably because Rimbaud doesn’t smoke. Dazai has to settle for stubbing out the last of the cherry on
He’s already had enough of /that/ today.
There’s no ashtray outside, probably because Rimbaud doesn’t smoke. Dazai has to settle for stubbing out the last of the cherry on
the wooden windowsill to his left. Rude, perhaps, but once he brushes the ashes away, there’s barely a mark left behind.
The butt, he sticks in his pocket to throw away later. With both of his hands newly free, he cups Chuuya’s face and leans him backwards to steal a kiss from
The butt, he sticks in his pocket to throw away later. With both of his hands newly free, he cups Chuuya’s face and leans him backwards to steal a kiss from
him, quick and fleeting.
It's only a few hours until his birthday.
"Let's go inside," he murmurs, nudging Chuuya's cheek with his nose, "I need a shower before I go to bed."
Chuuya smirks up at him. "Can I join you?"
Normally Dazai would /love/ to have Chuuya join him in
It's only a few hours until his birthday.
"Let's go inside," he murmurs, nudging Chuuya's cheek with his nose, "I need a shower before I go to bed."
Chuuya smirks up at him. "Can I join you?"
Normally Dazai would /love/ to have Chuuya join him in
the shower but not /this/ time. They're in his /fathers/ house, and Dazai is keeping his hands to himself at all costs. "No."
Chuuya's eyes go /big/ and round--
"Don't pout at me, brat."
-- then his expression is falling into a scowl, the same one he /always/ gets whenever
Chuuya's eyes go /big/ and round--
"Don't pout at me, brat."
-- then his expression is falling into a scowl, the same one he /always/ gets whenever
Dazai manages to deny him something. It doesn’t happen /nearly/ as often as it should but what can he say?
He likes spoiling him.
Chuuya leads the way into the house, shooting hopeful glances over his shoulder at Dazai like he might change his mind if he looks pitiful enough.
He likes spoiling him.
Chuuya leads the way into the house, shooting hopeful glances over his shoulder at Dazai like he might change his mind if he looks pitiful enough.
It almost works, and Dazai has to /look away/ when his resolve starts to waver.
It’s not like he /wants/ to tell him no on his birthday, but they’re literally sleeping in the /same/ hallway as his /father/. If they were at a /hotel/— like Dazai originally suggested for the trip—
It’s not like he /wants/ to tell him no on his birthday, but they’re literally sleeping in the /same/ hallway as his /father/. If they were at a /hotel/— like Dazai originally suggested for the trip—
then he would’ve been /happy/ to let Chuuya ring in his birthday with an orgasm /but/—
They’re not at a hotel. Sucks for both of them.
While Dazai takes a shower, Chuuya goes off into the bedroom. He even makes sure to lock the door so the bratty little chibi can’t sneak in
They’re not at a hotel. Sucks for both of them.
While Dazai takes a shower, Chuuya goes off into the bedroom. He even makes sure to lock the door so the bratty little chibi can’t sneak in
and take advantage of him while he’s naked and vulnerable.
The shower isn’t as good as the one he has at home— there’s only /one/ shower head and the pressure is abysmal, and the hot water starts to run out quickly— so he doesn’t take long. He skips conditioning his hair
The shower isn’t as good as the one he has at home— there’s only /one/ shower head and the pressure is abysmal, and the hot water starts to run out quickly— so he doesn’t take long. He skips conditioning his hair
completely, deciding to let it dry unruly and curly, and uses a clean washcloth with the body wash they brought with them.
It’s onl’y fifteen minutes before Dazai is heading into their appointed bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He’s not in the habit of bringing his
It’s onl’y fifteen minutes before Dazai is heading into their appointed bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He’s not in the habit of bringing his
clothes into the bathroom with him, so he forgot. It’s lucky Rimbaud went to sleep about an hour ago.
Chuuya’s childhood bedroom is… pretty much what he imagined it might be, actually. The walls are crowded with posters from bands—a decent amount of them from hard rock bands
Chuuya’s childhood bedroom is… pretty much what he imagined it might be, actually. The walls are crowded with posters from bands—a decent amount of them from hard rock bands
doesn’t recognize— along with amateur pieces of art in vibrant colors. A string of orange lights line the junction between the ceiling and the walls, lighting up the space pleasantly.
The room is small, so there’s really only room for a full-sized bed shoved against the window,
The room is small, so there’s really only room for a full-sized bed shoved against the window,
a small dresser decorated with a dozen little figurines and things that look like the prizes from old-school arcades, and a computer desk with an outdated desktop on it.
It's cute. Completely the opposite of Dazai's near-minimalism aesthetic, with every square inch of space
It's cute. Completely the opposite of Dazai's near-minimalism aesthetic, with every square inch of space
filled with things. Even the /ceiling/ has Judo medals taped all over it, interspersed with those glow-in-the-dark star stickers.
It's a room full of history. /Chuuya's/ history, his home for years, a veritable shrine to his happiness and health and growth. Dazai's glad he got
It's a room full of history. /Chuuya's/ history, his home for years, a veritable shrine to his happiness and health and growth. Dazai's glad he got
to see it, even though he's not sure how sleeping on a full-sized bed is going to work out for him. Sleeping with his feet hanging off the bed is only comfortable if he /chooses/ it.
Speaking of, Chuuya is stretched out along the bed-- green covers and sheets, which is slightly
Speaking of, Chuuya is stretched out along the bed-- green covers and sheets, which is slightly
funny because Dazai always took him for a /red/ kind of guy-- and he's /watching/ him, his eyes fixed on the droplets of water sliding down his chest in a look he recognizes very well.
Digging out briefs from his suitcase, Dazai points an accusing finger at him. "Stop that. I
Digging out briefs from his suitcase, Dazai points an accusing finger at him. "Stop that. I
know what you're doing. You're /objectifying/ me."
Chuuya's smile widens, unrepentant. "I'm just /looking/. There's nothing wrong with that."
"Some people might call that sexual harassment," he points out with a sniff, pulling his underwear up his legs and following it with the
Chuuya's smile widens, unrepentant. "I'm just /looking/. There's nothing wrong with that."
"Some people might call that sexual harassment," he points out with a sniff, pulling his underwear up his legs and following it with the
pair of gray sweats he brought to sleep in. "Keep your eyes to yourself."
Chuuya pillows his cheeks on his hands, grinning without looking away. "But there's so much to /look/ at."
He rolls his eyes at that one, even though he /is/ secretly pleased at the compliment. Ever since
Chuuya pillows his cheeks on his hands, grinning without looking away. "But there's so much to /look/ at."
He rolls his eyes at that one, even though he /is/ secretly pleased at the compliment. Ever since
he started dating Chuuya, he hasn't been spending as much time exercising. He still keeps a routine, but it isn't as strenuous or often as it was before.
Between that and the way Chuuya /insists/ on him eating full meals three times a day, and plying him with those candies he
Between that and the way Chuuya /insists/ on him eating full meals three times a day, and plying him with those candies he
likes, Dazai's gained some weight. His stomach is a little softer, his thighs squisher, his arms less defined than they were six months ago.
Initially he was worried that he lost some appeal-- but Chuuya has responded to his newfound softness with an enthusiasm that is doing
Initially he was worried that he lost some appeal-- but Chuuya has responded to his newfound softness with an enthusiasm that is doing
wonders for his ego. It's hard to feel anything /but/ appealing when Chuuya is practically drooling after him at all hours of the day.
He /especially/ likes it when Dazai shows off that he's /still/ just as strong as he's ever been when he bounces him up and down on his--
/No/.
He /especially/ likes it when Dazai shows off that he's /still/ just as strong as he's ever been when he bounces him up and down on his--
/No/.
No sex thoughts. Dazai will /not/ be tempted.
Normally he sleeps without a shirt, but he's not giving Chuuya the opportunity to tempt him. He pulls one on, sticking his tongue out at Chuuya. "Yeah, yeah. It's off-limits tonight, though," he pauses for a second, and continues
Normally he sleeps without a shirt, but he's not giving Chuuya the opportunity to tempt him. He pulls one on, sticking his tongue out at Chuuya. "Yeah, yeah. It's off-limits tonight, though," he pauses for a second, and continues
under his breath in a /slightly/ vindictive tone, "you /hussy/."
That makes him laugh, turning his face into the sheets while his shoulders shake. Dazai can't help his responding smile,walking over to the bed.
He pushes at his side, scooting him over. "Come on, make room. Bed's
That makes him laugh, turning his face into the sheets while his shoulders shake. Dazai can't help his responding smile,walking over to the bed.
He pushes at his side, scooting him over. "Come on, make room. Bed's
barely big enough for the two of us even without your habit of taking up the entire thing."
"I do not!" Chuuya gasps at him, offended, but rolls over anyways, scooting close to the wall. "You're the one who takes up the entire bed, you giant."
"Is that why I always wake up in
"I do not!" Chuuya gasps at him, offended, but rolls over anyways, scooting close to the wall. "You're the one who takes up the entire bed, you giant."
"Is that why I always wake up in
the middle of the night with you clutching onto me like I’m going to escape?”
Chuuya /sniffs/, refusing to answer.
And really, Dazai should’ve /known/ it was a trap, because as soon as he gets comfortable and stretched out on the side of the bed that will be his for the night,
Chuuya /sniffs/, refusing to answer.
And really, Dazai should’ve /known/ it was a trap, because as soon as he gets comfortable and stretched out on the side of the bed that will be his for the night,
Chuuya is rolling over and on /top/ of him.
Hé perches over his hips, ass /deliberately/ wiggling over him until he’s comfortable. With most of the lights off—save for the sickly yellow-orange-glow from the years-old LED’s along the ceiling— Chuuya’s mostly a shadow hovering
Hé perches over his hips, ass /deliberately/ wiggling over him until he’s comfortable. With most of the lights off—save for the sickly yellow-orange-glow from the years-old LED’s along the ceiling— Chuuya’s mostly a shadow hovering
over him. He can't make out his features, and he's forced to rely on the more intimate sense of touch to detect where Chuuya is moving.
However, he doesn't need to /see/ him to pick up on the teasing tone of his words. "You know, I kinda /like/ it when you call me a slut."
However, he doesn't need to /see/ him to pick up on the teasing tone of his words. "You know, I kinda /like/ it when you call me a slut."
/Does he now/? Dazai's imagination immediately fixates on that, conjuring up a dozen different scenarios where he's got Chuuya bent over, spread on his back, face-down, calling him a--
/No/. Dazai resolutely turns his thoughts away from that, focusing on--
The economy, or
/No/. Dazai resolutely turns his thoughts away from that, focusing on--
The economy, or
something. Milk's been pretty expensive lately, it's getting out of hand. Someone should do something about that. Maybe the prime minister.
Unbidden, his hands find Chuuya's hips. The /intention/ is to stop him from grinding or wiggling against him anymore, but in reality, his
Unbidden, his hands find Chuuya's hips. The /intention/ is to stop him from grinding or wiggling against him anymore, but in reality, his
thumbs just press into his hips hard enough to bruise. "I know what you're doing."
He can /hear/ Chuuya's grin. "I'm not doing anything. I just want a goodnight kiss, is that so bad?"
Yes. It's never just /one/ kiss.
Still, denying him something so simple and sweet costs more
He can /hear/ Chuuya's grin. "I'm not doing anything. I just want a goodnight kiss, is that so bad?"
Yes. It's never just /one/ kiss.
Still, denying him something so simple and sweet costs more
strength than Dazai has. Especially so when it's barely an hour until his birthday, and when it's been such a /good/ day.
"Come here, then," he murmurs, the hushed quality of his voice adding to the intimacy of the darkened room. Like this, it's only them, warm heavy heat
"Come here, then," he murmurs, the hushed quality of his voice adding to the intimacy of the darkened room. Like this, it's only them, warm heavy heat
pressing down on him, the cherished sounds of breathing, a smile he can't see but knows is there anyways.
He tugs at his hips, but doesn't reach up or guide him down, content to let himself be kissed. If Chuuya wants him, he knows exactly where to find him. He'll always be here
He tugs at his hips, but doesn't reach up or guide him down, content to let himself be kissed. If Chuuya wants him, he knows exactly where to find him. He'll always be here
waiting for him.
With another amused huff, Chuuya leans down. His hand braces his weight by Dazai's head, propping him up.
Because of how dark it is, his lips find Dazai's cheek first, a little ways off from the corner of his mouth. The miss isn't awkward, the way it might've
With another amused huff, Chuuya leans down. His hand braces his weight by Dazai's head, propping him up.
Because of how dark it is, his lips find Dazai's cheek first, a little ways off from the corner of his mouth. The miss isn't awkward, the way it might've
been if it were earlier in their relationship.
Instead, it’s /sweet/, feeling the gentle huff of his breath as he slowly drags his lips over his cheek toward his mouth. Unable to fight a smile coming to his own face and feeling a responding smile form against his skin. A dozen
Instead, it’s /sweet/, feeling the gentle huff of his breath as he slowly drags his lips over his cheek toward his mouth. Unable to fight a smile coming to his own face and feeling a responding smile form against his skin. A dozen
tiny kisses smeared over his skin on his way to the real destination, a raining of pure affection that has Dazai tipping his head to meet him with a sigh.
Despite all of Dazai’s reservations, the kiss isn’t /inherently/ provocative. It’s sweet, a gentle press of lips that
Despite all of Dazai’s reservations, the kiss isn’t /inherently/ provocative. It’s sweet, a gentle press of lips that
feels full of soft, warm feelings that have already been spoken about and are reaffirmed with every touch. Chuuya’s breath tastes like his toothpaste, a familiar mint, and there’s a content little hum building somewhere in his chest.He’s smiling still, probably gloating about his
victory over Dazai. He’s always been /smug/ like that, practically breaking out the pompoms whenever he wears Dazai down.
It’s cute, and if Dazai sometimes puts on a show of rejection just go watch the victorious little grin he gets when he eventually gives in—
That’s between
It’s cute, and if Dazai sometimes puts on a show of rejection just go watch the victorious little grin he gets when he eventually gives in—
That’s between
him.
With a pleased sigh, Chuuya drops to his elbows. He braces himself on either side of his head, wiggling his fingers through his hair. He takes a light grip, tugging slightly and running his nails through the newly-trimmed undercut just to feel Dazai shiver underneath him.
With a pleased sigh, Chuuya drops to his elbows. He braces himself on either side of his head, wiggling his fingers through his hair. He takes a light grip, tugging slightly and running his nails through the newly-trimmed undercut just to feel Dazai shiver underneath him.
His entire body is pressing down on him, but he /is/ behaving. No more wiggling or grinding, or teasing words.
Just the feeling of his fingers in his hair as he kisses him over and over and over again, like this is the only thing in the world that he ever needs. Like he’s only
Just the feeling of his fingers in his hair as he kisses him over and over and over again, like this is the only thing in the world that he ever needs. Like he’s only
content to breathe air that comes directly from Dazai's lungs.
Dazai lets himself relax into it, head tilting to the side to better the angle. The air between them heats up quickly, every heady breath lingering in the meager space. Chuuya is equal and opposite to him in rhythm,
Dazai lets himself relax into it, head tilting to the side to better the angle. The air between them heats up quickly, every heady breath lingering in the meager space. Chuuya is equal and opposite to him in rhythm,
breathing in when he breathes out, his lips sliding over his gently and without hesitation.
It's only when Chuuya shifts, tilting his head until he can take Dazai's bottom lip between his and suck it leisurely into his mouth that Dazai realizes it's a /trap/. He's been lulled
It's only when Chuuya shifts, tilting his head until he can take Dazai's bottom lip between his and suck it leisurely into his mouth that Dazai realizes it's a /trap/. He's been lulled
into a false sense of security, tricked into letting his guard down.
Because the way Chuuya sucks on his lip is /sinful/, the pressure exactly the way Dazai likes it. He even nibbles a little, setting his teeth into his flesh and pulling just enough to sting, only to soothe the
Because the way Chuuya sucks on his lip is /sinful/, the pressure exactly the way Dazai likes it. He even nibbles a little, setting his teeth into his flesh and pulling just enough to sting, only to soothe the
pain with a slow swipe of his tongue.
He still doesn’t move, but he doesn’t /need/ to, because Dazai’s hands are tightening on his hips already. His head feels foggy, pleasure and need stirring deep inside his veins. His heart seems to beat with the same rhythm as his kiss.
He still doesn’t move, but he doesn’t /need/ to, because Dazai’s hands are tightening on his hips already. His head feels foggy, pleasure and need stirring deep inside his veins. His heart seems to beat with the same rhythm as his kiss.
Slow, sluggish with molten heat, spiking when Chuuya gives another slow, relentless suck.
Tightening his hands again, he pushes on his hips—
But Chuuya’s got him in his grip, hands in his hair and teeth in his lip, and he’s pressing the /advantage/.
(Really, Dazai knew it
Tightening his hands again, he pushes on his hips—
But Chuuya’s got him in his grip, hands in his hair and teeth in his lip, and he’s pressing the /advantage/.
(Really, Dazai knew it
was bad luck when he came home to Chuuya reading the Art of War a few weeks ago.)
“Chuuya,” he /means/ to growl, but it comes out a little breathless and hushed, a whisper falling between them.
Chuuya hums back at him, using the grip on his hair to keep him in place as he
“Chuuya,” he /means/ to growl, but it comes out a little breathless and hushed, a whisper falling between them.
Chuuya hums back at him, using the grip on his hair to keep him in place as he
finally lets go of his lip. It pops back into place, lightly throbbing in time with his heartbeat. It feels swollen and sensitive, the brush of cool air enticing.
Chuuya slides slightly to the left, his mouth making a slow, wandering path over his cheek towards his jawline. He
Chuuya slides slightly to the left, his mouth making a slow, wandering path over his cheek towards his jawline. He
shaved just this morning, so his skin is more sensitive than it usually is. He can feel every centimeter of skin tingling in Chuuya's wake.
"/Osamu/," he murmurs back to him, sinking his teeth lightly into his jawline, and /oh/,that is a treat. Chuuya rarely uses his given name,
"/Osamu/," he murmurs back to him, sinking his teeth lightly into his jawline, and /oh/,that is a treat. Chuuya rarely uses his given name,
obviously preferring to call him daddy or /Dazai/ or a dozen other nicknames he's come up with for him.
Not that Dazai doesn't /like/ those--god, he does--, but there's something so /intimate/ about hearing his name like that. Soft and heated and /hushed/, clearly meant for him
Not that Dazai doesn't /like/ those--god, he does--, but there's something so /intimate/ about hearing his name like that. Soft and heated and /hushed/, clearly meant for him
and him alone. Murmured into the skin of his jaw like a treasured secret just between them.
Dazai swallows hard against the lump in his throat. His mouth feels dry, all of a sudden. With the air conditioner on, it’s cool in the room, but he feels like he’s overheating.
Chuuya
Dazai swallows hard against the lump in his throat. His mouth feels dry, all of a sudden. With the air conditioner on, it’s cool in the room, but he feels like he’s overheating.
Chuuya
takes advantage of his indecision, his mouth wandering down until he finds the spot just beneath the hinge of Dazai’s jaw that always makes him weak. He settles there, scraping his teeth and sucking until Dazai can practically feel his heart beating in his mouth.
There will be
There will be
a mark there by tomorrow, Dazai knows. He can already feel it forming, and the only way he’ll be able to cover something /that/ high is if he uses foundation or wraps his /entire/ neck in bandages.
Everyone will know anyways. They already /do/ because of the marks Dazai left on
Everyone will know anyways. They already /do/ because of the marks Dazai left on
Chuuya’s collarbone four days ago so—
Why is he resisting again? There was a /reason/, it just doesn’t seem to matter anymore in the face of how heavy and /hot/ Chuuya is on top of him.
“Chuuya,” he starts again, trying to get his thoughts in line.
“If you want me to stop,”
Why is he resisting again? There was a /reason/, it just doesn’t seem to matter anymore in the face of how heavy and /hot/ Chuuya is on top of him.
“Chuuya,” he starts again, trying to get his thoughts in line.
“If you want me to stop,”
he breathes into his neck, the movement of his lips hot-electric over wet skin, "then tell me to stop."
And that's the thing--because Dazai doesn't /want/ him to stop. They /should/ stop, they /shouldn't/ do this here and now--
But it's also Chuuya's /birthday/ in a matter of a
And that's the thing--because Dazai doesn't /want/ him to stop. They /should/ stop, they /shouldn't/ do this here and now--
But it's also Chuuya's /birthday/ in a matter of a
few hours, and Dazai is /weak/. Watching and feeling as Chuuya gets more confident in his desires, more /assertive/, watching him use how well he knows Dazai to his advantage by teasing and taunting and seducing him--
How is he ever supposed to say no to that? He doesn't /want/
How is he ever supposed to say no to that? He doesn't /want/
to say no, he's just struggling because they /shouldn't/.
That has it's own appeal though, the inherent illicit edge in doing something /wrong/. Something dangerous. It's hot, like a drug, makes adrenaline and the rare touch of fear swirl headily in his veins.
It makes his
That has it's own appeal though, the inherent illicit edge in doing something /wrong/. Something dangerous. It's hot, like a drug, makes adrenaline and the rare touch of fear swirl headily in his veins.
It makes his
body twitch, arch, the rise of his chest sudden after a harsh inhale. Chuuya meets him halfway,pressing down with his full weight, pinning him down carelessly.He knows Dazai doesn’t want to escape him, not truly.
Dazai practically watches as the last shreds of his self-restraint
Dazai practically watches as the last shreds of his self-restraint
fizzle away. He's always been a weak man at heart, beholden to a few stubborn vices, and /this/-- Chuuya, confident and assured and wanting, using his weakness for dangerous sexual games against him-- has grown to be the worst of them.
He says nothing, and digs his fingers into
He says nothing, and digs his fingers into
his hips, hard enough to bruise. Not hard enough to dissuade him, of course, and not hard enough to /stop/ him, but hard enough that he can feel the bones of his hips moving underneath the skin.
Chuuya lets out a shuddering breath, giving that little adorable wiggle of victory
Chuuya lets out a shuddering breath, giving that little adorable wiggle of victory
that he always does when he wins something over on Dazai. It’s a lot less adorable when it grinds his ass against Dazai’s crotch,but based on the smug little smirk being hidden in the crook of his neck, that’s probably on /purpose/.
Chuuya knows /exactly/ what he’s doing to him,
Chuuya knows /exactly/ what he’s doing to him,
and Dazai revels in the thrill of being known so intimately, so /well/, that all of his weaknesses are used effortlessly against him. It combines with the heat of Chuuya’s hips rocking slowly against him, a heady sense of intoxication swirling through his veins.
“Osamu,” is
“Osamu,” is
murmured against his neck, a siren call, “don’t you /want/ me?”
Of course he does. Of /course/ he does, and Chuuya doesn’t /really/ doubt that, he’s just toying with him. Using that whining, raspy tone that drives him mad, breathing the syllables into the sensitive skin of his
Of course he does. Of /course/ he does, and Chuuya doesn’t /really/ doubt that, he’s just toying with him. Using that whining, raspy tone that drives him mad, breathing the syllables into the sensitive skin of his
skin so he can feel the heat.
Dazai says nothing, glad that Chuuya can’t see the twitch of his lips from this angle. The game isn’t about /refusing/ anymore— no, Chuuya has won that already—, and now it’s about being /quiet/. Keeping himself quiet and restrained, even as his
Dazai says nothing, glad that Chuuya can’t see the twitch of his lips from this angle. The game isn’t about /refusing/ anymore— no, Chuuya has won that already—, and now it’s about being /quiet/. Keeping himself quiet and restrained, even as his
hips start matching the rhythm, rocking up to meet Chuuya’s circular grind down.
It’s one of their /favorite/ games. Chuuya has always been louder than he is, and he always delights in cracking Dazai’s composure to get to the filthy words that lie beneath. He loves teasing and
It’s one of their /favorite/ games. Chuuya has always been louder than he is, and he always delights in cracking Dazai’s composure to get to the filthy words that lie beneath. He loves teasing and
taunting him until he gets what he wants out of him.
And Dazai /loves/ to deny him.
The next kiss is more of a bite, teeth sinking roughly into the curve between his neck and shoulder. It‘s just shy of painful, sending an electric shock skittering down his spine. Heat curls
And Dazai /loves/ to deny him.
The next kiss is more of a bite, teeth sinking roughly into the curve between his neck and shoulder. It‘s just shy of painful, sending an electric shock skittering down his spine. Heat curls
in his stomach, flares hottest in the spaces between their bodies.
It’s hard to think with how /hot/ it feels in the room suddenly, with how he can feel every pound of his pulse in the skin between Chuuya’s teeth, with every breath that presses their chests together for the
It’s hard to think with how /hot/ it feels in the room suddenly, with how he can feel every pound of his pulse in the skin between Chuuya’s teeth, with every breath that presses their chests together for the
briefest of moments, with every subtle rock of Chuuya’s hips.
It doesn’t even feel intentional, it just feels inevitable. Like Dazai was always meant to be here, in Chuuya’s home and in his bed, just as much as Chuuya was always meant to be in his home and in his bed.
On thé
It doesn’t even feel intentional, it just feels inevitable. Like Dazai was always meant to be here, in Chuuya’s home and in his bed, just as much as Chuuya was always meant to be in his home and in his bed.
On thé
next roll of his hips, Dazai meets him halfway, rocking up. He has to spread his legs a little further to get the leverage for it, which forces Chuuya’s thighs wider to fit around his hips.
This time, there’s the slightest breath of a moan smothered against his neck. He’s
This time, there’s the slightest breath of a moan smothered against his neck. He’s
trying to be quiet, which never really works out for him— Chuuya is /loud/, delightfully so, and Dazai always enjoys pushing him to his limits.
With a smug grin that Chuuya can’t see from this angle, the game quickly changes— now it’s not about resisting, it’s about making
With a smug grin that Chuuya can’t see from this angle, the game quickly changes— now it’s not about resisting, it’s about making
him cry for it, making him scream.
If Chuuya wants to play, then Dazai plays to /win/.
Even though Dazai has already silently given in, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even move, barely tilts his head back to give Chuuya more room and rocks his hips subtly. He’s going to make
If Chuuya wants to play, then Dazai plays to /win/.
Even though Dazai has already silently given in, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even move, barely tilts his head back to give Chuuya more room and rocks his hips subtly. He’s going to make
him do all the work, since he wanted it so badly he couldn’t wait.
Besides, there’s something thrilling about watching Chuuya take what he wants from him. He gets delightfully frustrated whenever he doesn’t get a big enough response, biting down harder and switching up the
Besides, there’s something thrilling about watching Chuuya take what he wants from him. He gets delightfully frustrated whenever he doesn’t get a big enough response, biting down harder and switching up the
grinding rhythm of his hips, like he might shock Dazai into reacting. Then he’ll get distracted when the pleasure starts to get to him, using Dazai for his own needs—a hot enough idea that does it for him— before remembering that he’s supposed to be /enticing/ him, not just using
him.
It’s cute. And hot. Dazai loves it.
Loves him, practically vibrates with the intensity of it.
One of Chuuya’s hands slides under his shirt, palming over his stomach on its way up to his chest. Ever since the stories behind his tattoos came out, he’s had a mild fascination
It’s cute. And hot. Dazai loves it.
Loves him, practically vibrates with the intensity of it.
One of Chuuya’s hands slides under his shirt, palming over his stomach on its way up to his chest. Ever since the stories behind his tattoos came out, he’s had a mild fascination
with tracing the lines of them, pressing down with his fingers until blood blooms to the surface, until faded red ink is overlaid by faint red fingertips. Until the history inked into his skin is covered by the present.
“I’m gonna ride you,” Chuuya mumbles into his collarbone,
“I’m gonna ride you,” Chuuya mumbles into his collarbone,
using his other hand to tug down the collar of his shirt until the threads threaten to break. He says it like it’s a /threat/, pressing down with his hips like Dazai has to be convinced.
He doesn’t.
“Go on, then,” he says, deliberately low and calm, striving for an
He doesn’t.
“Go on, then,” he says, deliberately low and calm, striving for an
almost-bored tone. He rolls his hips upward slowly,a smug thrill shooting through him as Chuuya’s hands tighten over his flexing abs. “Show me how bad you want it.”
That seems to be the breaking point, because a small choking sound escapes him. In the next moment, nimble fingers
That seems to be the breaking point, because a small choking sound escapes him. In the next moment, nimble fingers
are sliding back down his chest and hooking into the waistband of his sweats.
Dazai— having attempted to be an upstanding guest, if he says so himself— is appropriately wearing underwear under his sweats. When Chuuya notices, he makes a disgruntled sound like he’s /offended/,
Dazai— having attempted to be an upstanding guest, if he says so himself— is appropriately wearing underwear under his sweats. When Chuuya notices, he makes a disgruntled sound like he’s /offended/,
and yanks them down with his sweats.
It means he has to let go of his neck, shuffling up on his knees to get enough room between them. The orange lighting washes over Chuuya’s face, casting his eyes into dark fathoms and pooling in the curve of his collarbone. He’s wearing one
It means he has to let go of his neck, shuffling up on his knees to get enough room between them. The orange lighting washes over Chuuya’s face, casting his eyes into dark fathoms and pooling in the curve of his collarbone. He’s wearing one
of Dazai’s shirts, he notices now, and it’s too-big on him in a perfect way. The collar keeps sliding off one shoulder and the hems gather at Chuuya’s hips and hide his thighs beneath. His hair, recently trimmed with an undercut to match Dazai’s own, falls around his chin in a
riotous fall of orange. He looks good, gilded with lust and impatience as he wrestles both Dazai’s pants off and then his own shorts.
Their shirts stay on— because Dazai isn’t /uncivilized/, he won’t get completely naked in someone else’s home and Chuuya looks too good in his
Their shirts stay on— because Dazai isn’t /uncivilized/, he won’t get completely naked in someone else’s home and Chuuya looks too good in his
shirt to even think about taking it off— but Dazai’s shirt gets shoved up around his armpits.
Dazai’s hands fall naturally to Chuuya’s thighs as he settles back on top of him, newly naked from the waist down. He pets over his skin, runs his fingers up and down to admire the play
Dazai’s hands fall naturally to Chuuya’s thighs as he settles back on top of him, newly naked from the waist down. He pets over his skin, runs his fingers up and down to admire the play
of muscle beneath soft skin. His fingers disappear underneath the hem of his shirt, an illicit thrill running up his spine.
There’s no one in the room with them and the lighting is low, but there’s an inherent rush in touching in hidden places, where his hands can’t be seen.
There’s no one in the room with them and the lighting is low, but there’s an inherent rush in touching in hidden places, where his hands can’t be seen.
Doing something he’s not supposed to, something that’s /wrong/.
When Chuuya leans forward, he expects a kiss. Tips his chin up for it even, letting his eyes go half-lidded. His thumb digs into his inner thigh, right in one of the spots that he commonly leaves sore after he’s
When Chuuya leans forward, he expects a kiss. Tips his chin up for it even, letting his eyes go half-lidded. His thumb digs into his inner thigh, right in one of the spots that he commonly leaves sore after he’s
done with Chuuya. His leg trembles in response.
Instead, smirking smugly right into Dazai’s eyes, Chuuya braces himself with one hand by his shoulder. The other slips underneath the unoccupied pillow, fingers searching over the sheets.
When he finds his prize, he holds it up
Instead, smirking smugly right into Dazai’s eyes, Chuuya braces himself with one hand by his shoulder. The other slips underneath the unoccupied pillow, fingers searching over the sheets.
When he finds his prize, he holds it up
triumphantly.
Dazai doesn’t need the light to know what he’s holding. He can tell by the shape and smell of it alone. It’s /lube/, one of their recent favorite ones. “You planned this,” he accuses Chuuya, unable to keep the fond lilt out of his voice.
Chuuya’s grin glints in
Dazai doesn’t need the light to know what he’s holding. He can tell by the shape and smell of it alone. It’s /lube/, one of their recent favorite ones. “You planned this,” he accuses Chuuya, unable to keep the fond lilt out of his voice.
Chuuya’s grin glints in
the light, sweetly mischievous. He’s never been good at playing innocent, not that he tries very often.
Dazai digs his fingers into his thighs until they’re sure to bruise. Chuuya is hot and tempting above him, his erection sliding against his own as he wiggles in
Dazai digs his fingers into his thighs until they’re sure to bruise. Chuuya is hot and tempting above him, his erection sliding against his own as he wiggles in
self-satisfaction.
The lube gets opened with a soft /crack/, the normally quiet sound sounding overly loud in the silence of the room. Heat blooms in Dazai’s face.
“/Menace/,” he hisses lowly, “Am I really that easy?”
Chuuya doesn’t even bother to respond to that one, which
The lube gets opened with a soft /crack/, the normally quiet sound sounding overly loud in the silence of the room. Heat blooms in Dazai’s face.
“/Menace/,” he hisses lowly, “Am I really that easy?”
Chuuya doesn’t even bother to respond to that one, which
is as clear a /yes/ as he could probably give.
Maybe he should start telling Chuuya no sometimes. Clearly his baby is too used to getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He’s /spoiled/.
“I know you,” Chuuya murmurs instead of answering, and in the darkness of the room,
Maybe he should start telling Chuuya no sometimes. Clearly his baby is too used to getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He’s /spoiled/.
“I know you,” Chuuya murmurs instead of answering, and in the darkness of the room,
with the scent of artificial cherry—Chuuya got tired of strawberry flavored lube and demanded they try out new flavors— in the air, and the quiet sounds of sleeping suburbs outside, it feels more like a /confession/ than jt does a statement.
Some emotion wells up in his chest,
Some emotion wells up in his chest,
something too big and too warm to name—
He hisses when Chuuya’s hand, newly wet with lube he sneakily poured on his fingertips, closes over his cock. The lube is cold and slick, and makes his skin tingle intoxicatingly.
“I know you can’t resist me,” Chuuya says, and that is
He hisses when Chuuya’s hand, newly wet with lube he sneakily poured on his fingertips, closes over his cock. The lube is cold and slick, and makes his skin tingle intoxicatingly.
“I know you can’t resist me,” Chuuya says, and that is
absolutely true, especially when he's dragging his hand up his shaft so slowly that he swears he can feel every line of his palm. "I know you want me."
He does, he /does/, he always does, and now he's struggling between the mounting need to flip them over to pin Chuuya against
He does, he /does/, he always does, and now he's struggling between the mounting need to flip them over to pin Chuuya against
the bed to /take/ what he wants, or continue playing this game of pretend nonchalance, struggling between the knowledge that they need to be quiet and how little he's starting to care--
Chuuya plants his free hand on his shoulder, firmly doing away with any ideas of sitting up
Chuuya plants his free hand on his shoulder, firmly doing away with any ideas of sitting up
or flipping them over. If he wants it like this-- Dazai flat on his back with his hands pushing up the hems of his shirt so he can catch glimpses of the soft shadows collecting between his thighs-- then he'll get it like this.
When he deems Dazai slick enough, he shuffles upward
When he deems Dazai slick enough, he shuffles upward
to arrange himself into place. He switches his grip, reaching behind him and between his legs to hold Dazai steady.
When he starts to press /down/, his hands fly to his hips and keeps him from sinking down. Unless he missed it, Chuuya hasn’t even taken a single finger in prep
When he starts to press /down/, his hands fly to his hips and keeps him from sinking down. Unless he missed it, Chuuya hasn’t even taken a single finger in prep
and as much as Dazai loves some rough not-enough-prep sex, he doesn’t /actually/ want to hurt Chuuya.
Chuuya jerks in his grip, forcibly rocking down until the head presses in.
It’s too easy of a slide, his body easily accepting the intrusion. He barely even has to push for
Chuuya jerks in his grip, forcibly rocking down until the head presses in.
It’s too easy of a slide, his body easily accepting the intrusion. He barely even has to push for
Dazai to sink another inch inside of him. The head pops in, and Dazai feels like a man remade.
“You—“ he starts, hands clenching when Chuuya drops down halfway in one sharp movement. The words fall apart in his mouth.
Chuuya smirks down at him, radiating smugness. “Me,” he
“You—“ he starts, hands clenching when Chuuya drops down halfway in one sharp movement. The words fall apart in his mouth.
Chuuya smirks down at him, radiating smugness. “Me,” he
agrees, rising up in one short, teasing bounce before falling back down all the way. His ass meets his hips with a soft noise which sounds way too loud at this time of night.
Dazai clutches at his hips, fingers tangled in his shirt, feeling like he’s losing his /mind/. He
Dazai clutches at his hips, fingers tangled in his shirt, feeling like he’s losing his /mind/. He
must've prepped himself while he was in the shower, and the image that realization brings to mind-- Chuuya, sneaking their lube into his luggage and taking it out, fingering himself quickly, mouth pressed into the sheets to silence himself because he only has limited time and he
can't get caught-- sends a bolt of heat through him.
Fuck, this is good, and it's even better because it /shouldn't/ be this good.
Chuuya sets up a rhythm, slow and deep, grinding in his lap without lifting up an inch. He milks the pleasure out of them both, circling his hips
Fuck, this is good, and it's even better because it /shouldn't/ be this good.
Chuuya sets up a rhythm, slow and deep, grinding in his lap without lifting up an inch. He milks the pleasure out of them both, circling his hips
until he finds the best angle and keeping it. Between the low lighting and the shirt, his form is hidden and hazy, shades of orange catching on the cotton and casting moving shadows.
But Dazai /knows/ him, and he doesn't need to see him to know how the muscles in his stomach
But Dazai /knows/ him, and he doesn't need to see him to know how the muscles in his stomach
are flexing rhythmically, the bones of his hips moving like waves beneath his skin. Doesn't need to be kissing him to know the heat of his breath, doesn't need to be touching him to know how fast his heart is racing, doesn't need to be stroking him to know how hard he is.
Dazai
Dazai
knows him inside and out, would know him by touch alone. Has seen him in hundreds of situations, and this play at secretive and hidden is setting Dazai on fire.
For once, he doesn't have anything to say. It's rare that he can't speak, but now he can't even think beyond the roar
For once, he doesn't have anything to say. It's rare that he can't speak, but now he can't even think beyond the roar
of flames in his mind, the chant of /Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya/ and /fuck/ and /god, it's good/.
Unbidden, his hips twitch upwards, turning the next grind into a half-thrust. Chuuya's pace stutters, thrown off-rhythm, and his head drops back on a hitched breath. The next rock is
Unbidden, his hips twitch upwards, turning the next grind into a half-thrust. Chuuya's pace stutters, thrown off-rhythm, and his head drops back on a hitched breath. The next rock is
harder in response, an echo of their usual roughness.
Dazai has to let go off one hip to reach upwards, the shirt tumbling back down. When his fingers brush Chuuya's chin,he looks back down.
Firm, Dazai covers his mouth with his palm, because he /knows/ he's going to get louder
Dazai has to let go off one hip to reach upwards, the shirt tumbling back down. When his fingers brush Chuuya's chin,he looks back down.
Firm, Dazai covers his mouth with his palm, because he /knows/ he's going to get louder
from here on out. Even his gasping breath is too loud, and every shift of the bed makes Dazai cringe internally.
"You have to be quiet," he breathes, digging his fingers into his cheekbones and his jaw, until Chuuya can't escape his hold. His breath is hot from his nose, gusting
"You have to be quiet," he breathes, digging his fingers into his cheekbones and his jaw, until Chuuya can't escape his hold. His breath is hot from his nose, gusting
over the back of his hand. He can feel his tiny smile, the movement of his lips dragging across the palm of his hand.
Chuuya clenches down on him, hips moving in maddening waves. The pleasure is coursing through him like smoke, curling inside of him and filling him up until even
Chuuya clenches down on him, hips moving in maddening waves. The pleasure is coursing through him like smoke, curling inside of him and filling him up until even
the brush of Chuuya's calf over his thigh feels electric. He reaches for it, because the name of this game isn't /endurance/, it's being fast and quick and dirty, getting what they need as fast as possible.
Chuuya already has the right idea, the rock of his hips quickening. One
Chuuya already has the right idea, the rock of his hips quickening. One
of his hands comes up, fingers wrapping around Dazai's arm.
He doesn't try to pull him off or move his hand. In fact, he holds his arm in place with a surprising amount of strength, fingertips digging into his forearm like he wants to feel the strength in his arm.
His breath
He doesn't try to pull him off or move his hand. In fact, he holds his arm in place with a surprising amount of strength, fingertips digging into his forearm like he wants to feel the strength in his arm.
His breath
is speeding up, partly because he's going /faster/ now, chasing his pleasure, but also because his breathing is restricted now. He can't breath through his mouth with his palm over it, and the harsh inhales through his nose pick up hot, twice-breathed air.
Dazai grins, not
Dazai grins, not
giving him even a second of relief. Chuuya loves his breathing being restricted anyways-- he pratically melts whenever he gets a firm hand around his throat.
This is a different form of restriction, one they haven't played with before. It's effective all the same, based on the
This is a different form of restriction, one they haven't played with before. It's effective all the same, based on the
way his thighs are starting to tremble.
Using the grip he has, Dazai drags him closer. He wants to kiss him, but he'd have to let /go/ for that, so he settles for pulling him down until he can make eye contact.
Chuuya's eyes are huge, nearly completely black in the darkness.
Using the grip he has, Dazai drags him closer. He wants to kiss him, but he'd have to let /go/ for that, so he settles for pulling him down until he can make eye contact.
Chuuya's eyes are huge, nearly completely black in the darkness.
They're wet, desperate, and they lock onto Dazai with a silent sort of begging.
Dazai doesn't do anything that he /probably/ wants him to do, like flip them over or pin him, or even start fucking up into him. Chuuya always wants it /harder/ than he can get himself.
Instead, he
Dazai doesn't do anything that he /probably/ wants him to do, like flip them over or pin him, or even start fucking up into him. Chuuya always wants it /harder/ than he can get himself.
Instead, he
pulls him down a little farther, until the only thing he can see is him. With his other hand, he finds his hip again and forces him into a faster pace, ignoring the muffled whine Chuuya gives.
"Come on," he breathes into the scant space between them, quiet enough that the wet
"Come on," he breathes into the scant space between them, quiet enough that the wet
sounds of their bodies coming together aren't covered up. "You wanted it-- so /take/ it."
Chuuya makes a choked noise, nodding. He picks up the pace even more, adding short little bounces when he can and rocking frantically in his lap whenever his thighs get too tired to lift.
Chuuya makes a choked noise, nodding. He picks up the pace even more, adding short little bounces when he can and rocking frantically in his lap whenever his thighs get too tired to lift.
The shirt falls completely off his shoulder, revealing the flushed and sweaty skin of his shoulder and neck.
"Slut," Dazai says absentmindedly, voice far too fond for the inherent shaming of the word. He watches voraciously as Chuuya works,reminding himself that he /can't/ move,
"Slut," Dazai says absentmindedly, voice far too fond for the inherent shaming of the word. He watches voraciously as Chuuya works,reminding himself that he /can't/ move,
no matter what the burning need in his stomach is telling him to do, because it's going to be too /loud/.
There's a certain satisfaction and pleasure in restraining himself, in fighting against his desires and /winning/. It adds to the pleasure, the tight heat of Chuuya's body,
There's a certain satisfaction and pleasure in restraining himself, in fighting against his desires and /winning/. It adds to the pleasure, the tight heat of Chuuya's body,
the animal enjoyment of hot and /wet/, of using and being used, the rebel of pleasure found in someone else’s body.
Chuuya’s next breath is even shakier than the one before, shuddering out over his hand. His body jerks in reaction, rippling around Dazai’s cock like the sweetest
Chuuya’s next breath is even shakier than the one before, shuddering out over his hand. His body jerks in reaction, rippling around Dazai’s cock like the sweetest
reward. Underneath the shirt, there’s a moving shadow, his own erection twitching as the pleasure builds up. He’s always liked the sweet shame in being gently and lovingly degraded.
He /loves/ being Daddy’s little slut.
After another few minutes of this, watching as Chuuya
He /loves/ being Daddy’s little slut.
After another few minutes of this, watching as Chuuya
gets increasingly desperate writhing on top of him, Dazai finally decides to take some mercy on him.
Raising his free hand to his mouth, he licks a wet stripe down his mouth. If he wanted, he could go for the lube but that means he’d have to let go of Chuuya’s mouth, and that’s
Raising his free hand to his mouth, he licks a wet stripe down his mouth. If he wanted, he could go for the lube but that means he’d have to let go of Chuuya’s mouth, and that’s
not a good idea. He’ll get them caught, with how loud he is.
As it is, he almost gets them caught /anyway/, with the loud whine he makes when Dazai’s spit-slick hand sneaks underneath his shirt and wraps around his cock.
They both freeze, hearts pounding loud enough that it’s
As it is, he almost gets them caught /anyway/, with the loud whine he makes when Dazai’s spit-slick hand sneaks underneath his shirt and wraps around his cock.
They both freeze, hearts pounding loud enough that it’s
hard to hear anything else in the house. Dazai can’t tell if the creak he just heard was the bed moving or the house settling or someone walking through the hallway, but he and Chuuya stare at eachother, eyes wide and faces only inches apart, as they wait to see if they’re about
to be interrupted.
God, fuck, Dazai is /way/ too old for this, but he's also never done this, and it makes him feel recklessly young, like he's so infatuated with his first love that he can't keep his hands off him.
When nothing happens for a long moment, Chuuya lets out a
God, fuck, Dazai is /way/ too old for this, but he's also never done this, and it makes him feel recklessly young, like he's so infatuated with his first love that he can't keep his hands off him.
When nothing happens for a long moment, Chuuya lets out a
shuddering breath. That seems to be the signal to start moving again, slow rocks of his hips.
Dazai doesn't know how long it's been-- probably not /that/ long, especially compared to how long they usually take-- but every moment feels stretched out and syrupy-thin, stretching
Dazai doesn't know how long it's been-- probably not /that/ long, especially compared to how long they usually take-- but every moment feels stretched out and syrupy-thin, stretching
ever longer and a dangerous tension beginning to build as it threatens to break under it’s own weight.
When Chuuya lifts himself—slowly, so agonizingly slowly that Dazai can feel every centimeter of himself that slips free—, he rolls upwards to meet him. Fiery pleasure races
When Chuuya lifts himself—slowly, so agonizingly slowly that Dazai can feel every centimeter of himself that slips free—, he rolls upwards to meet him. Fiery pleasure races
through him, as heavy as if the sun were burning in his chest.
He sets his own pace, digging his fingers into Chuuya’s face and holding him in place until he gets the clue and hovers over top of him. It’s not as fast or as hard as either of them would like— every time he braces
He sets his own pace, digging his fingers into Chuuya’s face and holding him in place until he gets the clue and hovers over top of him. It’s not as fast or as hard as either of them would like— every time he braces
his feet on the bed, it creaks alarmingly, and every time their bodies come together it’s /obscenely/ loud— so he has to settle for a fast, shallow rhythm, pulling out only an inch or two just to plunge back in.
Chuuya’s panting again, and he’s nearly deadweight on top of him,
Chuuya’s panting again, and he’s nearly deadweight on top of him,
strung out between his knees on the mattress and his face in Dazai’s palm. He’s trembling all over, body clenching down in waves, hips tilting down like if he presents himself better, he might get fucked harder.
He’s close. He can tell by the faraway look in his eyes, like he’s
He’s close. He can tell by the faraway look in his eyes, like he’s
so focused on his pleasure that the rest of the world fades away. Dazai speeds up the hand on his cock, stroking him just the way he likes—fast and hard, a little too rough.
Chuuya shudders, and muffles another sound into his hand. His lips are moving against his skin, trying in
Chuuya shudders, and muffles another sound into his hand. His lips are moving against his skin, trying in
vain to say something. His name, probably, or /Daddy/, begging the best way he knows how.
Dazai gives it to him, driving him up to the edge as quickly as possible and shoving him over. There’s a moment where Chuuya arches in his arms, spine taut and eyes wet, where he thinks he
Dazai gives it to him, driving him up to the edge as quickly as possible and shoving him over. There’s a moment where Chuuya arches in his arms, spine taut and eyes wet, where he thinks he
might /scream/.
“Shh,” he murmurs frantically, dragging him down to whisper in his ear. He can’t /stop/ himself, not when it feels so good as Chuuya shivers and ripples around him, and he’s so /close/, he can’t stop now—
Painted fingernails dig into his forearm hard enough to
“Shh,” he murmurs frantically, dragging him down to whisper in his ear. He can’t /stop/ himself, not when it feels so good as Chuuya shivers and ripples around him, and he’s so /close/, he can’t stop now—
Painted fingernails dig into his forearm hard enough to
hurt. He hisses, repays Chuuya for his kindness with a harder thrust that he /knows/ rides the electric edge between pleasure and pain. He can feel the effects of overstimulation in his body, Chuuya fighting to get away and to get closer at the same time.
Somehow, Chuuya manages
Somehow, Chuuya manages
to open his mouth wide enough to sink his teeth into the webbing between Dazai’s thumb and forefinger. He bites down hard, scraping his free hand down his chest as the tears in his eyes finally spill over.
It’s too much, it’s too /much/, Chuuya clenching around him in hot waves,
It’s too much, it’s too /much/, Chuuya clenching around him in hot waves,
the wetness of his hand, feeling Chuuya gasp and shake above him, knowing he has to be /quiet/, but also not /caring/ anymore because he’s close, he’s /so/ close, who cares if the bed is creaking a bit too louder and his palm is slipping off Chuuya’s mouth and his choked-off
gasps and whimpers are starting to fill the room, but it’s okay because he’s /close/,and he’s dragging Chuuya down and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip to taste the way he gasps in response and his body tenses, and Dazai feels like he can’t /breathe/, he’s so close, it feels
so /good/—
His orgasm crashes into him like a wave of relief, the tension winding as tight as possible for a split second before splitting open. Pleasure pulses down his thighs and up his spine, dizzying in its strength. It goes on forever, prolonged by the way his hips can’t
His orgasm crashes into him like a wave of relief, the tension winding as tight as possible for a split second before splitting open. Pleasure pulses down his thighs and up his spine, dizzying in its strength. It goes on forever, prolonged by the way his hips can’t
stop twitching and Chuuya can’t seem to stop grinding down to meet him.
When he finally finds the self-control to let go of Chuuya’s lip— he can already tell it will be swollen and bruised tomorrow, probably with the imprint of his teeth lingering on the soft inside— that is
When he finally finds the self-control to let go of Chuuya’s lip— he can already tell it will be swollen and bruised tomorrow, probably with the imprint of his teeth lingering on the soft inside— that is
the last point of tension holding Chuuya together.
With a sigh, he collapses on top of him, going completely limp and burying his nose in Dazai’s neck to catch his breath. He’s trembling all over, still, but the humming noise he makes in the back of his throat makes it obvious
With a sigh, he collapses on top of him, going completely limp and burying his nose in Dazai’s neck to catch his breath. He’s trembling all over, still, but the humming noise he makes in the back of his throat makes it obvious
that he’s very satisfied.
As he should be. The little gremlin got exactly as he wanted and what he planned for.
Dazai hugs him close, propping his chin up on the top of his head and letting one hand slide under his shirt to stroke gentle rhythms up and down his spine. He’s
As he should be. The little gremlin got exactly as he wanted and what he planned for.
Dazai hugs him close, propping his chin up on the top of his head and letting one hand slide under his shirt to stroke gentle rhythms up and down his spine. He’s
tired; even though it isn’t too late, it was a long drive here and with all the excitement and planning, he hasn’t been able to get as much sleep as usual.
He settles in, squeezing Chuuya to his chest like his own personal stuffed animal, letting his eyes close and the gentle
He settles in, squeezing Chuuya to his chest like his own personal stuffed animal, letting his eyes close and the gentle
waves of exhaustion lap at him and start to pull him under—
Which is, naturally, when Chuuya starts wiggling.
“Where are you going?” He grumbles, trying in vain to hold on as he wriggles out of his grip.
Chuuya huffs at him. “To clean /up/, dummy.”
Come to think of it, that
Which is, naturally, when Chuuya starts wiggling.
“Where are you going?” He grumbles, trying in vain to hold on as he wriggles out of his grip.
Chuuya huffs at him. “To clean /up/, dummy.”
Come to think of it, that
is a good idea— he can already feel himself slipping out of Chuuya, and the satisfying wet collecting between his thighs— but they have wet-wipes in here, and surely that would be enough for now, right?
He’s comfortable and /sleepy/ and he doesn’t want his little chibi to leave.
He’s comfortable and /sleepy/ and he doesn’t want his little chibi to leave.
“Just use the wipes,” he grumbles, turning on his side and watching forlornly as Chuuya slides off the bed and pulls on a ratty pair of shorts with a slight grimace. If they were home, he’d just go without pants but they’re not, so.
“That works for /you/,” he says, shooting an
“That works for /you/,” he says, shooting an
exasperated look at him. “But I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Noooo,” Dazai whines, but because he is in love with the meanest, most heartless chibi ever, Chuuya doesn’t even give him another glance before slipping out of the room.
He gives himself about ten seconds to mope
“Noooo,” Dazai whines, but because he is in love with the meanest, most heartless chibi ever, Chuuya doesn’t even give him another glance before slipping out of the room.
He gives himself about ten seconds to mope
about the injustice of the situation, then sets about cleaning himself and the sheets up. All told, they were /relatively/ clean, so it doesn’t take that long to get everything clean enough to sleep on.
It is, incidentally, just enough time to finish and lay back down before he
It is, incidentally, just enough time to finish and lay back down before he
hears the toilet flush in the bathroom and then Chuuya’s footsteps— he can tell he’s trying to be quiet but he’s always been a stompy little thing— coming down the hall, and Dazai starts to settle down—
A door opening loudly in the hall. “Chuuya? Is that you?”
Oh. Oh /no/.
A door opening loudly in the hall. “Chuuya? Is that you?”
Oh. Oh /no/.
“Oh!” Chuuya yelps in surprise,followed by a hasty chuckle that is completely suspicious. “Hey, Dad.What are you still doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep. All the…noise and excitement from today,” Rimbaud answers dryly.
Dazai presses his palms to his eyes and wishes for a quick death.
“Couldn’t sleep. All the…noise and excitement from today,” Rimbaud answers dryly.
Dazai presses his palms to his eyes and wishes for a quick death.
Chuuya’s voice /immediately/ goes up an entire octave, and Dazai is unfortunately and viscerally reminded of the fact that no one ever taught him how to /play it cool/. “Right! Me too, ahaha. I brought some wine to my room but then I drank too much, and so I had to go to the
bathroom. But then I spilled some wine on my way out so I had to wash it off and that’s why my shorts are…wet. I know it’s hard to see ‘cause they’re black, ahaha, but that’s why.”
God, Rimbaud’s just going to let Chuuya go on /forever/, isn’t he?
Dazai despairs. “Shut up,
God, Rimbaud’s just going to let Chuuya go on /forever/, isn’t he?
Dazai despairs. “Shut up,
Chuuya,” he mumbles to the uncaring ceiling, feeling like his chances of making it out of this family reunion are lessening by the second. “Please just shut up.”
Miraculously, Chuuya /does/, but the godawful rambling is replaced by this horribly awkward silence, stretching so
Miraculously, Chuuya /does/, but the godawful rambling is replaced by this horribly awkward silence, stretching so
long that even /Dazai/ starts to squirm and he’s not even /in/ the room being subjected to what is probably the most disbelieving stare in existence.
“Right,” Rimbaud says eventually, so dry Dazai can practically taste dust. Then, louder, “You should be more careful about the
“Right,” Rimbaud says eventually, so dry Dazai can practically taste dust. Then, louder, “You should be more careful about the
things you do in your bed. Goodnight, Chuuya.”
Dazai is probably going to pass away on the spot if he ever makes eye contact with Rimbaud again.
Chuuya flees with his life, slipping back inside the room and pressing his back against the door. His face is red and his eyes are
Dazai is probably going to pass away on the spot if he ever makes eye contact with Rimbaud again.
Chuuya flees with his life, slipping back inside the room and pressing his back against the door. His face is red and his eyes are
wide. “Do you think he knows that we—?”
Oh my fucking /god/.
“I’m going to kill myself,” he announces without fanfare, dragging his hands down his face. “I’m never coming home again. I can never look your father in the eye. We are never having sex again. Ever. We’re becoming
Oh my fucking /god/.
“I’m going to kill myself,” he announces without fanfare, dragging his hands down his face. “I’m never coming home again. I can never look your father in the eye. We are never having sex again. Ever. We’re becoming
nuns.”
“That’s a bit dramatic,” he responds with a roll of his eyes, picking his way across the room and sliding back into the bed. This time, he’s wearing clean and dry underwear. “He didn’t even /say/ anything.”
“Oh, he definitely said something,” Dazai mutters, wrapping his
“That’s a bit dramatic,” he responds with a roll of his eyes, picking his way across the room and sliding back into the bed. This time, he’s wearing clean and dry underwear. “He didn’t even /say/ anything.”
“Oh, he definitely said something,” Dazai mutters, wrapping his
arms around him again and squeezing him too tightly, in slight petty revenge. “You are a hazard to my health.”
The way Chuuya pats his side is indulgent, quietly sympathetic. “You’ll survive,” he says simply.
Well, who is Dazai to disobey him? He sighs, glad he has at least a
The way Chuuya pats his side is indulgent, quietly sympathetic. “You’ll survive,” he says simply.
Well, who is Dazai to disobey him? He sighs, glad he has at least a
few hours to prepare himself for the morning.
He goes to sleep, warm and comfortable and half-draped over Chuuya to keep him pinned in place.
——
Breakfast is, for lack of a better word, a /complete/ nightmare. It’s filled with an awkward, lingering sort of tension.
Chuuya
He goes to sleep, warm and comfortable and half-draped over Chuuya to keep him pinned in place.
——
Breakfast is, for lack of a better word, a /complete/ nightmare. It’s filled with an awkward, lingering sort of tension.
Chuuya
keeps /talking/ about anything that comes to mind, from his friendship with Yuan to the fact that he plans to go back to college in the fall.
Rimbaud takes it all in with a placidly unchanging expression, systematically cleaning his place with long scrapes of his utensils. The
Rimbaud takes it all in with a placidly unchanging expression, systematically cleaning his place with long scrapes of his utensils. The
fact that he almost never looks at Dazai feels /very/ deliberate, and he never responds to anything he says.
It’s awkward. It’s so terribly, horrifically awkward.
And it gets even worse when Kouyou shows up to whisk Chuuya away to spend some time together. Dazai is invited
It’s awkward. It’s so terribly, horrifically awkward.
And it gets even worse when Kouyou shows up to whisk Chuuya away to spend some time together. Dazai is invited
to go with them and he is /very/ tempted to do so but—
He promised himself he would do this before they had to leave. It’s now or never.
When he declines and says he wants to speak to Rimbaud alone, Chuuya—who has been mildly paranoid since his kidnapping— squints at him
He promised himself he would do this before they had to leave. It’s now or never.
When he declines and says he wants to speak to Rimbaud alone, Chuuya—who has been mildly paranoid since his kidnapping— squints at him
suspiciously. He doesn’t look convinced about Dazai wanting to spend /quality time/ with his father.
Dazai shoos him out the front door with his hands on his shoulders and a kiss dropped on his forehead.
When the front door shuts it sounds ominously loud and final.
Pasting
Dazai shoos him out the front door with his hands on his shoulders and a kiss dropped on his forehead.
When the front door shuts it sounds ominously loud and final.
Pasting
a strained smile on his face, Dazai turns to Rimbaud.
The man stares at him and says nothing. He doesn’t need to; he already /knows/.
“I know,” Dazai starts, taking a deep breath for courage, “that you haven’t known me for long and I probably haven’t made the best impression—“
The man stares at him and says nothing. He doesn’t need to; he already /knows/.
“I know,” Dazai starts, taking a deep breath for courage, “that you haven’t known me for long and I probably haven’t made the best impression—“
The flat stare Rimbaud gives him makes it abundantly clear that he has, in fact, definitely not made a good impression. Rimbaud lifts another bite of egg and rice to his mouth, chewing slowly.
Dazai is /sweating/. God, why did he want to do this /now/? He wanted to do this
Dazai is /sweating/. God, why did he want to do this /now/? He wanted to do this
/correctly/, he wanted to do it right and while he was already here, but now he’s rethinking it.
He could’ve asked /later/, he could’ve arranged another trip here, but he’s already started so he can’t stop /now/. “I know it’s—, it’s /early/, but I just wanted to ask your
He could’ve asked /later/, he could’ve arranged another trip here, but he’s already started so he can’t stop /now/. “I know it’s—, it’s /early/, but I just wanted to ask your
permission to—.”
——— +
Araya Sora is tired.
This, in itself, is not a new concept. She is the last child of poor parents who could barely support themselves reliably, let alone their three children. She is the surviving widow of her high school sweetheart, a man who worked
——— +
Araya Sora is tired.
This, in itself, is not a new concept. She is the last child of poor parents who could barely support themselves reliably, let alone their three children. She is the surviving widow of her high school sweetheart, a man who worked
himself to the bone despite his ever-decreasing health and the ever-growing pile of medical debt. She is the mother of two girls,both of whom are incredibly smart and always dreamed of going to the best college in the country.
Sora is always tired. She's been working two, three,
Sora is always tired. She's been working two, three,
sometimes even four jobs when she could find the time, in between the trials of growing into adulthood, learning to support herself and her ailing husband, and then learning to support two young, rambunctious, squirrelly and deviously smart girls.
In some shape or form, Sora has
In some shape or form, Sora has
been exhausted her entire life.
It's been a new strain of exhaustion lately, though. She's landed a new, better job--a secretary for the Bureau of Special Investigations. It comes with paid vacation holidays, private health insurance that ensures she'll never have to avoid going
It's been a new strain of exhaustion lately, though. She's landed a new, better job--a secretary for the Bureau of Special Investigations. It comes with paid vacation holidays, private health insurance that ensures she'll never have to avoid going
to the hospital again, and pays well enough that she no longer has to work two jobs just to keep her tiny apartment.
It's good. It's a good job. Her boss isn't always perfect, and sometimes he makes her work long hours, but it's the best thing she's had in... a long time. Maybe
It's good. It's a good job. Her boss isn't always perfect, and sometimes he makes her work long hours, but it's the best thing she's had in... a long time. Maybe
the best thing she's ever had, if she's being honest.
But it's different now. Now Yuan has gone off to her first year of college. She stays in the dorms,and sometimes comes home for weekends,but their main mode of communication now is texts and infrequent calls. Elise is most of
But it's different now. Now Yuan has gone off to her first year of college. She stays in the dorms,and sometimes comes home for weekends,but their main mode of communication now is texts and infrequent calls. Elise is most of
the way through her double-major criminal justice and forensic psychology degrees,and so barely has time to eat, let alone come home for a visit.
Even Shirase, the poor orphan boy who has spent so much time bouncing between foster homes that he might as well have been homeless,
Even Shirase, the poor orphan boy who has spent so much time bouncing between foster homes that he might as well have been homeless,
who ever called Sora's house his home, doesn't stop by much anymore.
Objectively, this is a good thing. They're busy, young adults,building their own lives. They're doing well for themselves, and Sora is proud of them all.
It's just...
She doesn't know what to /do/ now. For so
Objectively, this is a good thing. They're busy, young adults,building their own lives. They're doing well for themselves, and Sora is proud of them all.
It's just...
She doesn't know what to /do/ now. For so
long, her life had been defined in terms things she /had/ to do. She had to work, because otherwise she wouldn't be able to eat. She had to take care of her babies, because her husband couldn't do it. She had to raise her children alone,because she was the only one left to do it.
And now that's not the case. Now she has time and money and no one left to coddle.
Now she can do what /she/ wants, but she doesn't know what she /does/ want. She barely even has any hobbies, and very few friends.
For the first time in her life, Sora is experiencing empty nest
Now she can do what /she/ wants, but she doesn't know what she /does/ want. She barely even has any hobbies, and very few friends.
For the first time in her life, Sora is experiencing empty nest
syndrome, and she doesn't know what to do about it except--
Just keep /going/. Keep squirrelling away parts of her paycheck to pay for the girls tuition, even though Elise already has a paid internship on top of her scholarships, and Yuan gets money...somewhere. She says she has
Just keep /going/. Keep squirrelling away parts of her paycheck to pay for the girls tuition, even though Elise already has a paid internship on top of her scholarships, and Yuan gets money...somewhere. She says she has
a job, but Sora wasn't born yesterday-- Yuan has too many expensive things and never speaks about her work, so it can't be a /normal/ job.
Keep making meals for four, even though she's usually the only one at the dinner table. Sometimes she brings the leftovers to her coworkers,
Keep making meals for four, even though she's usually the only one at the dinner table. Sometimes she brings the leftovers to her coworkers,
and sometimes she drops them off at the homeless shelter fifteen minutes away, or gives them to the neighbors.
Keep scouring the web pages for a good job opening--just in /case/-- and keep watering Elise's plants so they don't die.
In this strange limbo she's found herself in,
Keep scouring the web pages for a good job opening--just in /case/-- and keep watering Elise's plants so they don't die.
In this strange limbo she's found herself in,
there's nothing left for her to do except keep /going/.
Which is why, when there's a loud, frantic pounding on her door on a nameless,ordinary Tuesday evening, it gives her pause. She's not expecting anyone, and she hasn't had visitors for weeks now.Her neighbor across the hall,
Which is why, when there's a loud, frantic pounding on her door on a nameless,ordinary Tuesday evening, it gives her pause. She's not expecting anyone, and she hasn't had visitors for weeks now.Her neighbor across the hall,
whom she has tea with sometimes, is away on a business trip.
Living where she does, Sora knows very well that she should not open the door to someone she's not expecting. If it's important and the person knows her, they can call her. If not, they can leave a letter wedged in the
Living where she does, Sora knows very well that she should not open the door to someone she's not expecting. If it's important and the person knows her, they can call her. If not, they can leave a letter wedged in the
door.
She has every plan to leave whoever it is outside, but then--
Another round of knocks, and in the sudden silence that follows:
"Auntie Sora, are you home?"
There's only one person who calls her /auntie/. It's Shirase, and he sounds... frantic. Worried. Desperate. Like
She has every plan to leave whoever it is outside, but then--
Another round of knocks, and in the sudden silence that follows:
"Auntie Sora, are you home?"
There's only one person who calls her /auntie/. It's Shirase, and he sounds... frantic. Worried. Desperate. Like
he's in /trouble/.
Quickly, she sets aside the romance book she was reading and hustles over to the door. Her heart is pounding, the same way it always does whenever one of her children might be in trouble.
WHen she opens the door, she's not sure what she's expecting to see.
Quickly, she sets aside the romance book she was reading and hustles over to the door. Her heart is pounding, the same way it always does whenever one of her children might be in trouble.
WHen she opens the door, she's not sure what she's expecting to see.
Tears, maybe some panicking. Blood, if she's unlucky.
She is /not/ expecting Shirase to be standing in the entranceway with the arm of an unknown boy slung over his shoulder. The boy is taller than him, and much skinnier. His dark hair is greasy and knotted, his bent head making
She is /not/ expecting Shirase to be standing in the entranceway with the arm of an unknown boy slung over his shoulder. The boy is taller than him, and much skinnier. His dark hair is greasy and knotted, his bent head making
the strands fall over his face and obscure his features. He doesn't look overtly injured, but he also doesn't look up when the door opens.
She looks at Shirase, concerned. He smiles back at her, slightly strained. "Hey, auntie. We, uh...we need some help."
And like all good
She looks at Shirase, concerned. He smiles back at her, slightly strained. "Hey, auntie. We, uh...we need some help."
And like all good
mothers, when her children come asking her for help, no matter /what/ it is--
She lets them in. Checks the hall behind them to see if anyone saw them come in, and locks the door behind them. Ushers the boys to the kitchen table, while she goes to get the first aid kit stored in
She lets them in. Checks the hall behind them to see if anyone saw them come in, and locks the door behind them. Ushers the boys to the kitchen table, while she goes to get the first aid kit stored in
the bathroom. Shirase has come to her with enough black eyes and split lips and bloody knuckles for her to have a routine down in situations like this.
The boy moves under his own power, walking where he's directed,but he doesn't do anything else. He sniffles intermittently, his
The boy moves under his own power, walking where he's directed,but he doesn't do anything else. He sniffles intermittently, his
breathing wet from what could either be tears or a bloody nose.
Shirase sits him down and then.. stands there, looking a little awkward and a little panicked. Never been the best at handling emergency situations and making snap decisions, that one.
Sora hustles over, setting
Shirase sits him down and then.. stands there, looking a little awkward and a little panicked. Never been the best at handling emergency situations and making snap decisions, that one.
Sora hustles over, setting
the kit down on the table. “What happened?”
“Rokuzou started picking fights with some bad people ever since he came back from Europe,” Shirase shrugs, “Told him he should stop before he gets himself in trouble,but he doesn’t listen to me. I found him like this a couple of hours
“Rokuzou started picking fights with some bad people ever since he came back from Europe,” Shirase shrugs, “Told him he should stop before he gets himself in trouble,but he doesn’t listen to me. I found him like this a couple of hours
ago. Won’t tell me what happened.”
“I don’t listen to you, /Buichirou/,” the boy—Rokuzou, assumingly— snarls, adding a sneer to Shirase’s name that makes it clear how little he thinks about /that/ statement. “I’m not part of your little after-school club, so don’t try to boss
“I don’t listen to you, /Buichirou/,” the boy—Rokuzou, assumingly— snarls, adding a sneer to Shirase’s name that makes it clear how little he thinks about /that/ statement. “I’m not part of your little after-school club, so don’t try to boss
me around like I am.Just fuck off and leave me alone.”
Shirase’s face twists with anger. “I’m not trying to /boss you around/, I’m trying to help you because we’re /friends/,you massive dickbag.”
Rokuzou’s head jerks up and he shoots such a scathing glare at the other boy that
Shirase’s face twists with anger. “I’m not trying to /boss you around/, I’m trying to help you because we’re /friends/,you massive dickbag.”
Rokuzou’s head jerks up and he shoots such a scathing glare at the other boy that
even Sora feels singed by it. He opens his mouth to say something, probably something /mean/ and fueled by the obvious hurt and rage bubbling beneath his skin—
Sora steps in neatly, well-used to disrupting the arguments between two stubborn children. Nothing that will be said
Sora steps in neatly, well-used to disrupting the arguments between two stubborn children. Nothing that will be said
right now will be helpful or conducive to the situation. “Alright, boys. Let’s not fight right now. I’m sure we can fix whatever happened, but let’s just cool off for a minute. Rokuzou, can I clean your face?”
There’s blood smeared underneath his nose and over his lip, and his
There’s blood smeared underneath his nose and over his lip, and his
eyes look well on his way to blackening. There’s the faint shape of a knuckle bruised into his cheek. He must’ve taken a few punches.
“They /lied/ to me,” he hisses, all the rage of a hurting young boy spilling from his voice like an open wound. “They /knew/ what I wanted and
“They /lied/ to me,” he hisses, all the rage of a hurting young boy spilling from his voice like an open wound. “They /knew/ what I wanted and
they /lied/ to me and they made me betray my /friend/.”
Sora doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but she doesn’t need to know that to wet the edge of a washcloth and start cleaning off the blood on his face. “They shouldn’t have done that to you,” she murmurs, holding his
Sora doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but she doesn’t need to know that to wet the edge of a washcloth and start cleaning off the blood on his face. “They shouldn’t have done that to you,” she murmurs, holding his
chin so she can dab at the blood on his lip. “Is your friend okay?”
Rokuzou’s shoulders slump. “Probably but he’s definitely going to kill me now.”
She tuts at him, frowning when his lower lip starts to bleed under the attention. “Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Boys like you
Rokuzou’s shoulders slump. “Probably but he’s definitely going to kill me now.”
She tuts at him, frowning when his lower lip starts to bleed under the attention. “Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Boys like you
make mistakes all the time, it’s just part of being so young! You’ll make up again soon, and everything will be okay again, you’ll see.”
(Of course, she doesn’t know that the people he’s crossed might /actually/ kill him, if they wanted to.)
“Now,” Sora continues before he can
(Of course, she doesn’t know that the people he’s crossed might /actually/ kill him, if they wanted to.)
“Now,” Sora continues before he can
keep spiraling himself into a panic attack, “Would you like to talk about what happened? How did you get hurt?”
The smile that grows on his face is all wrong. It’s /mean/, blood still dripping off his teeth, and it looks much too sharp for a boy his age. It’s a hunting smile,
The smile that grows on his face is all wrong. It’s /mean/, blood still dripping off his teeth, and it looks much too sharp for a boy his age. It’s a hunting smile,
like the curve of a pulled bow, threat inherent. It doesn’t match up with the way his eyes are still watering. “It’s fine. I just needed to get some things, and I /did/, and now I’m going to make them pay.”
Sora has no idea what to say to /that/. She’s glad she only ever had
Sora has no idea what to say to /that/. She’s glad she only ever had
sweet, if slightly headstrong girls to raise. Elise and Yuan might’ve been handfuls growing up— and handfuls even now, no longer at home— but at least they never came home bloody and angry like this. Even Shirase, during the time he used to get into trouble with that little crowd
of friends that follows his every lead, was never quite like this.
"Alright," she says slowly, because even though she's a mother and a reasonable person--she doesn't actually /know/ this boy. She can't tell him what to do and expect to be respected. "Is there anything I can do?
"Alright," she says slowly, because even though she's a mother and a reasonable person--she doesn't actually /know/ this boy. She can't tell him what to do and expect to be respected. "Is there anything I can do?
Can I call your parents for you? I'm sure they're worried about."
It's meant to be soothing, a reassurance. Instead, the simple statement makes his expression crack open, heartbreaking sorrow and grief held in the reflexive twist of his mouth.
Oh. Oh /no/.
She hurries to keep
It's meant to be soothing, a reassurance. Instead, the simple statement makes his expression crack open, heartbreaking sorrow and grief held in the reflexive twist of his mouth.
Oh. Oh /no/.
She hurries to keep
going, trying to brush over whatever pain her unthinking offer had brought up. "Or I can take you to the hospital? You should probably have your nose looked at."
Rokuzou shakes his head. "No hospitals. I'm fine. I've got it handled."
Despite his firm tone and the way he
Rokuzou shakes his head. "No hospitals. I'm fine. I've got it handled."
Despite his firm tone and the way he
stubbornly claims independence, he doesn't move to pull out of her grip. Doesn't even shuffle away or twitch like he's just bearing with it. If anything, he's leaning into her, subtly chasing the soft, caring touch of a parent.
Sora doesn't know anything about him, but she can't
Sora doesn't know anything about him, but she can't
help but think he must be so lonely.
She sighs at him, but puts away the washcloth so she can gently feel at his cheeks and nose. She's not a nurse, but she doesn't think anything is broken, and he doesn't flinch badly under her touch. "What about the police then? Whoever did
She sighs at him, but puts away the washcloth so she can gently feel at his cheeks and nose. She's not a nurse, but she doesn't think anything is broken, and he doesn't flinch badly under her touch. "What about the police then? Whoever did
this to you should be brought to justice."
At their side, Shirase shifts in his place, leaning against the wall. Sora doesn't have to be looking at him to see the derisive look on his face. The boy has never liked the police, not since he was a little boy and stealing candy from
At their side, Shirase shifts in his place, leaning against the wall. Sora doesn't have to be looking at him to see the derisive look on his face. The boy has never liked the police, not since he was a little boy and stealing candy from
the stores so he had something to eat that day.
Rokuzou snorts lightly, and then grimaces when it dislodges a blood clot in his nose. "Like the police would do anything."
"I'll make sure they take you seriously. You know, I'm on good terms with the Bureau of Special
Rokuzou snorts lightly, and then grimaces when it dislodges a blood clot in his nose. "Like the police would do anything."
"I'll make sure they take you seriously. You know, I'm on good terms with the Bureau of Special
Investigations," Sora says, attempting a lighthearted joke to lighten the atmosphere.
It falls flat. Or, rather, it gets a response she's not quite expecting.
One of Rokuzou's hands slides into the pocket of his ratty jacket, clutching around something small. His eyes snap up
It falls flat. Or, rather, it gets a response she's not quite expecting.
One of Rokuzou's hands slides into the pocket of his ratty jacket, clutching around something small. His eyes snap up
to meet hers, a sort of fevered intelligence sparking there. "You're a Special Investigator?"
"Oh, no, nothing that fancy," Sora laughs, delicately placing a butterfly bandage on the cut on his nose. Now that the boy is all cleaned up, he looks in much better shape than the one
"Oh, no, nothing that fancy," Sora laughs, delicately placing a butterfly bandage on the cut on his nose. Now that the boy is all cleaned up, he looks in much better shape than the one
he arrived in. A few scrapes, quite a few bruises, but altogether nothing truly harmful. He'll probably be fine in a week or two. "I just file their paperwork."
Rokuzou studies her as she packs the first aid kit back up and stows it underneath the kitchen sink again. There's a
Rokuzou studies her as she packs the first aid kit back up and stows it underneath the kitchen sink again. There's a
keen judgement in his gaze, too shrewd and calculating for a boy his age.
He doesn't say anything immediately though, so Sora gets up to fuss over Shirase. It's been a while since she's seen him, and although he makes grumbling and groaning noises, she can tell he secretly
He doesn't say anything immediately though, so Sora gets up to fuss over Shirase. It's been a while since she's seen him, and although he makes grumbling and groaning noises, she can tell he secretly
likes being doted on. Likes when she pinches his cheek and scolds him for not coming around sooner, likes having a bowl of food pushed into his hands because 'really, you're much too thin, have you even been eating?' before being ushered over to eat on the dining table. Likes
being reminded that, even though she may not be his mother, he has a place in this house and home.
Dinner is a bit awkward, with their new guest-- whom Sora isn't sure how to approach, now that he's quiet and the immediate danger is over-- but she's made enough for three, as she
Dinner is a bit awkward, with their new guest-- whom Sora isn't sure how to approach, now that he's quiet and the immediate danger is over-- but she's made enough for three, as she
always has.
Shirase and her talk quietly for a short while, of mostly mundane things. What he's been up to-- he's got a new job, working nightshift at the port docks--, if he's still trying to get into college-- no, but he's considering going to a trade school--, if he's talked
Shirase and her talk quietly for a short while, of mostly mundane things. What he's been up to-- he's got a new job, working nightshift at the port docks--, if he's still trying to get into college-- no, but he's considering going to a trade school--, if he's talked
to Yuan or Elise lately-- yes and no, though he hasn't actually seen Yuan in a few weeks.
The whole time, Rokuzou stares into his bowl and chews on his lip,clearly thinking something through.
Eventually, she can't take it, and turns to him. "Is there anyone I can call for you?"
The whole time, Rokuzou stares into his bowl and chews on his lip,clearly thinking something through.
Eventually, she can't take it, and turns to him. "Is there anyone I can call for you?"
She doesn't bring up his parents explicitly, remembering his earlier reaction. It's not her place to dig into his personal life. She just wants to make sure he gets to somewhere safe, the same thing she'd do for any child.
The single, aggrieved shrug Rokuzou gives is answer
The single, aggrieved shrug Rokuzou gives is answer
enough. It's the same response when she asked Shirase if he had anyone to call, the first time they met.
"Alright. Do you have somewhere to go?"
The response is slower this time, with Rokuzou wavering on the answer he wants to give. He shrugs lightly, then shakes his head.
"Alright. Do you have somewhere to go?"
The response is slower this time, with Rokuzou wavering on the answer he wants to give. He shrugs lightly, then shakes his head.
Then shrugs again, like he's not sure if the correct answer is yes or no. Like he thinks there /might/ be somewhere he could go, but he's not sure if he's welcome anymore.
Shirase pipes up. He's on his second bowl of curry, devouring each bite with the hunger of a young and
Shirase pipes up. He's on his second bowl of curry, devouring each bite with the hunger of a young and
growing boy. "He can stay with me."
Rokuzou throws him a look, like he wasn't expecting the offer.
Truthfully, Sora isn't sure if she should let these two out of her sight-- she's never actually /known/ where Shirase sleeps, because he always dodges the question when she asks,
Rokuzou throws him a look, like he wasn't expecting the offer.
Truthfully, Sora isn't sure if she should let these two out of her sight-- she's never actually /known/ where Shirase sleeps, because he always dodges the question when she asks,
but she's sure it's not a very nice place. It feels wrong to let them stay somewhere that might not be safe, or warm, or comfortable.
But she's not their mother and they are young adults, and the only thing she do is /offer/ help. "Both of you are welcome to stay here tonight.
But she's not their mother and they are young adults, and the only thing she do is /offer/ help. "Both of you are welcome to stay here tonight.
It's not much," she gestures to the small room,with the sectioned-off part where she sleeps, "but you are welcome to stay."
Shirase grins at her, and she can tell that he will probably agree, and sleep in Yuan's bed tonight. It's a routine of theirs now, comforting and familiar.
Shirase grins at her, and she can tell that he will probably agree, and sleep in Yuan's bed tonight. It's a routine of theirs now, comforting and familiar.
Rokuzou looks between them, and takes a deep breath, the first he's taken since he arrived. Slowly, he pulls his hand out of his pocket and brings it above the table. His fingers are curled around something small and thin, protecting it from view. He looks at the backs of his
fingers for a while,occasionally glancing up at her. “Are you really part of the Bureau of Special Investigations?”
Sora sneaks a look at Shirase, wondering why Rokuzou is so hung up on that detail. He’s not looking at her, instead frowning slightly in the other boy’s direction.
Sora sneaks a look at Shirase, wondering why Rokuzou is so hung up on that detail. He’s not looking at her, instead frowning slightly in the other boy’s direction.
He looks thoughtful, and maybe a little concerned. “No, like I said, I mostly just file their paperwork.”
“But you can get them something. If I gave you— if I gave you something, you could bring it to them.”
Now /that/ is more concerning. Rokuzou seems like a nice boy, even as
“But you can get them something. If I gave you— if I gave you something, you could bring it to them.”
Now /that/ is more concerning. Rokuzou seems like a nice boy, even as
troubled as he is. But she doesn’t actually /know/ him, and there could be any number of things or reasons why he might want to get ‘something’ to the Special Investigators. Reasons that /could/ be benign, or even helpful—
And reasons that would not be benign.
She hasn’t been
And reasons that would not be benign.
She hasn’t been
a single mother, independent and responsible for making a way in the world for herself and her two daughters without learning how to be wary. “Depends. What would you want me to give to them?”
Rokuzou uncurls his fingers, extending his arm until his palm is hovering in the
Rokuzou uncurls his fingers, extending his arm until his palm is hovering in the
space between them.
In his palm is a thin USB. It looks innocent, shining a dull black in the light from the kitchen.
“I want you to give them this,” Rokuzou says, moving his hand closer like he’s afraid she might not see what he’s talking about. “It has…information on it.
In his palm is a thin USB. It looks innocent, shining a dull black in the light from the kitchen.
“I want you to give them this,” Rokuzou says, moving his hand closer like he’s afraid she might not see what he’s talking about. “It has…information on it.
About...the bratva.Don't ask how I got it, or why I have it, or how I know the Russian mafia is in Japan," he hurries to add when her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "Just trust me. It's information that will help. It will help everyone. The Bureau will want to see it."
Now, Sora
Now, Sora
isn't an idiot. She's neither slow nor stupid. The argument could be made that she simply isn't around enough to know everything about her kids-- which is unfortunately true--, but she notices things.She knows things.
For instance, she knows that the little pack of young rascals
For instance, she knows that the little pack of young rascals
that follow Shirase around like a mob of overeager puppies aren't /exactly/ wholesome and innocent. She knows that Shirase refers to them as the 'Sheep', and she can guess that not all of their actions are above board and legal. She knows that sometimes, children have to fight
for their place in the world with sneaky fingers and running feet and hungry hearts.
It's better that she doesn't know the details, which is why she never presses. She does what she can-- offers food and socks in winter, and whatever spare change she can scrounge up--, but she
It's better that she doesn't know the details, which is why she never presses. She does what she can-- offers food and socks in winter, and whatever spare change she can scrounge up--, but she
can't save them all.
She also knows, from observations of her boss and the ever-increasingly workload of paperwork, that there is something of a silent war being waged on the streets. There's a new,mysterious drug flooding the city, there's more tension than ever before between
She also knows, from observations of her boss and the ever-increasingly workload of paperwork, that there is something of a silent war being waged on the streets. There's a new,mysterious drug flooding the city, there's more tension than ever before between
the Bureau and it's smaller cousin, the Armed Detective Agency, and there's been more arrests of Port Mafia members over the last few months than there has been in the past year.
Sora isn't given the specifics, but she would have to be a fool not to see how the streets at night
Sora isn't given the specifics, but she would have to be a fool not to see how the streets at night
are emptier than they usually are, and the homeless man who has always lived in a small park a few blocks away for as long as Sora has been living in this building has disappeared without a word.
So-- she might not know /what/ is going on in the quieter, underground parts of the
So-- she might not know /what/ is going on in the quieter, underground parts of the
city, but she knows /something/ is happening. Shirase is thinner than he should be, and don't think she hasn't noticed the near-permanent scrapes on his knuckles.
Somewhere out there, there's a fight going on. And if Rokuzou is right-- if he can be trusted-- then maybe that
Somewhere out there, there's a fight going on. And if Rokuzou is right-- if he can be trusted-- then maybe that
USB in his hand can help...someone.
In the end, that's what drives her to reach out and take it. Maybe it won't mean anything,maybe it won't help at all.
But if it will, if it'll mean that her kids are that much safer on the streets than before, then she owes it to them to try.
In the end, that's what drives her to reach out and take it. Maybe it won't mean anything,maybe it won't help at all.
But if it will, if it'll mean that her kids are that much safer on the streets than before, then she owes it to them to try.
She can't do much, but maybe she can do this.
She wants to ask /how/ Rokuzou got involved in this, why a boy as young as him got his hands on information like this, why he's doing it. Why he's part of this at all, when he should be at home, safe and sound.
But he already told
She wants to ask /how/ Rokuzou got involved in this, why a boy as young as him got his hands on information like this, why he's doing it. Why he's part of this at all, when he should be at home, safe and sound.
But he already told
her not to ask, and she doesn’t know him well enough to push his boundaries on that. It’ll only make him clam up further.
So instead she asks: “Are you sure you want me to do this for you?”
All told, it’s a low-risk venture. She can always plug the USB into her own computer to
So instead she asks: “Are you sure you want me to do this for you?”
All told, it’s a low-risk venture. She can always plug the USB into her own computer to
see if it’s malicious before giving it to Ango. If it is, he never has to see jt.
And if it isn’t— if Rokuzou is telling the truth—, then he’ll want to see it anyways.
“Yes,” the boy says, firm and unwavering. He lifts his chin, the very picture of defiance with his bruised
And if it isn’t— if Rokuzou is telling the truth—, then he’ll want to see it anyways.
“Yes,” the boy says, firm and unwavering. He lifts his chin, the very picture of defiance with his bruised
eyes and his bloody lip. “They took something from me. So I’m going to take /everything/ from them.”
—— +
Ranpo lasts about…three weeks. Really, he’s impressed that he managed to last that long without losing his mind or doing something dramatic when he’s a little too bored.
—— +
Ranpo lasts about…three weeks. Really, he’s impressed that he managed to last that long without losing his mind or doing something dramatic when he’s a little too bored.
The thing is, Shuuji is… sticky. He’s latched onto Ranpo with a puppylike devotion, with the simple logic of ‘I like him and he likes me, which means I’m staying forever’.
It’s cute, in a way. Sweet, too, and there’s few things Ranpo respects more than a man who is not easily
It’s cute, in a way. Sweet, too, and there’s few things Ranpo respects more than a man who is not easily
swayed. He likes a man who chooses a path and sticks with it, no matter what happens. He likes a man who knows what he likes.
And in that department, at least, Shuuji is exemplary. He took one look at Ranpo and just… never gave up. Not even when Ranpo is deliberately mean to
And in that department, at least, Shuuji is exemplary. He took one look at Ranpo and just… never gave up. Not even when Ranpo is deliberately mean to
him. Not even when Ranpo goes on a candy-eating binge that makes him surly and hyperactive in turns, or when a new video game he’s interested in comes out and he spends nearly twenty-four hours straight sitting in front of his TV and getting a 100% completion score on it.
And so
And so
he decided—
If Shuuji is just gonna stick around, then Ranpo might as well have /fun/ with him, right? Which is why he finessed a brand new, expensive apartment out of Dazai. He was tired of having to explain to Shuuji that /no/, that trinket wasn’t trash, stop trying to throw
If Shuuji is just gonna stick around, then Ranpo might as well have /fun/ with him, right? Which is why he finessed a brand new, expensive apartment out of Dazai. He was tired of having to explain to Shuuji that /no/, that trinket wasn’t trash, stop trying to throw
all my stuff away, and /yes/, you still have to sleep on throw, I am not sharing my bed.
Which is also why, about a week into Shuuji’s break— when he showed no signs of leaving, and still hadn’t made up with his parents—, Ranpo decides to take him to work. Just for fun. Just to
Which is also why, about a week into Shuuji’s break— when he showed no signs of leaving, and still hadn’t made up with his parents—, Ranpo decides to take him to work. Just for fun. Just to
see what would happen.
The only thing he told Shuuji was: “Don’t tell Kunikida who your dad is.”
Kunikida will /flip/ if he knew that the slightly stupid, slightly rude and completely unexpected person was the son of the criminal he’s been hunting for the last few years.
The only thing he told Shuuji was: “Don’t tell Kunikida who your dad is.”
Kunikida will /flip/ if he knew that the slightly stupid, slightly rude and completely unexpected person was the son of the criminal he’s been hunting for the last few years.
That's actually why Ranpo told Shuuji not to tell him.
Either Shuuji listens to him and doesn't tell, in which case he gets the pleasure of being obeyed without reason or hesitation. Or Shuuji will tell him,in which case Ranpo gets the entertainment of livewatching Kunikida have
Either Shuuji listens to him and doesn't tell, in which case he gets the pleasure of being obeyed without reason or hesitation. Or Shuuji will tell him,in which case Ranpo gets the entertainment of livewatching Kunikida have
a mental breakdown in the office.
It's a win-win situation. Ranpo is the smartest person he knows. Nothing about this could go wrong.
Chewing absently on the stick of what used to be a grape lollipop, he stares at his phone. Him and Shuuji are playing Sea Battle again, one of
It's a win-win situation. Ranpo is the smartest person he knows. Nothing about this could go wrong.
Chewing absently on the stick of what used to be a grape lollipop, he stares at his phone. Him and Shuuji are playing Sea Battle again, one of
their favorite ways to pass the time in the office. Ranpo almost always wins, but Shuuji never gives up.
Today, he's playing a long game of it. Placing his bombs in what seems like a random pattern, always coming closer to sinking Shuuji's ships but not /quite/. Not yet. He's
Today, he's playing a long game of it. Placing his bombs in what seems like a random pattern, always coming closer to sinking Shuuji's ships but not /quite/. Not yet. He's
enjoying watching Shuuji become increasingly twitchy on the other side of the office, the sharp /click/ of the stapler in his hands becoming louder with every turn.
Because Shuuji isn't actually part of the Agency, he's technically not allowed to have access to any sort of
Because Shuuji isn't actually part of the Agency, he's technically not allowed to have access to any sort of
information or investigation in the building. Because of who Ranpo is, and how important he is, his guest is granted a bit of leeway--
But since Kunikida is, unfortunately, the most dedicated stick-in-the-mud Ranpo has ever met, it's only a small allowance. For the most part,
But since Kunikida is, unfortunately, the most dedicated stick-in-the-mud Ranpo has ever met, it's only a small allowance. For the most part,
the only thing Shuuji has been doing ever since Ranpo dragged him in is paperwork.
Stapling papers together. Filing them numerically by case file. Occasionally running down to get coffee for Kunikida, candy for Ranpo, or more cat treats for Fukuzawa. In essence, he's a glorified
Stapling papers together. Filing them numerically by case file. Occasionally running down to get coffee for Kunikida, candy for Ranpo, or more cat treats for Fukuzawa. In essence, he's a glorified
and completely unpaid secretary.
It's great. Ranpo hasn't had to file a single /paper/ of work for the last couple of weeks. He might never staple anything in his life ever again, not while he has Shuuji to do it for him.
An incoming text from Odasaku interrupts the game of
It's great. Ranpo hasn't had to file a single /paper/ of work for the last couple of weeks. He might never staple anything in his life ever again, not while he has Shuuji to do it for him.
An incoming text from Odasaku interrupts the game of
psychological warfare via iPhone games Ranpo is currently indulging in. He frowns at his screen, quickly switching message threads to see what he sent.
Oda has been...busy, lately. The Bratva greatly overstepped when they took Chuuya a couple of months ago; the foreign gang had
Oda has been...busy, lately. The Bratva greatly overstepped when they took Chuuya a couple of months ago; the foreign gang had
flourished when the Port Mafia, the ADA and Dazai were all at odds with each other, able to sink their fingers into places that belonged to other people.
Now that there's an /understanding/ between them, and the three are more or less willing to work with each other, the Bratva
Now that there's an /understanding/ between them, and the three are more or less willing to work with each other, the Bratva
was quickly finding itself facing a united front it wasn't prepared to handle.
Kouyou would burn the entire organization for justice for her brother; Dazai wasn't far behind in terms of revenge. Oda would do whatever his wife wanted,and Ranpo was willing to help out occasionally
Kouyou would burn the entire organization for justice for her brother; Dazai wasn't far behind in terms of revenge. Oda would do whatever his wife wanted,and Ranpo was willing to help out occasionally
in exchange for favors.
When Fyodor had left the city-- and Ranpo knew he left, because while he isn't as smart as /Ranpo/, he certainly was intelligent to be a challenge--, he'd left his subordinate in charge of a sinking ship. Ranpo almost felt sorry for them, watching them
When Fyodor had left the city-- and Ranpo knew he left, because while he isn't as smart as /Ranpo/, he certainly was intelligent to be a challenge--, he'd left his subordinate in charge of a sinking ship. Ranpo almost felt sorry for them, watching them
struggle to keep a hold on the power they'd stolen.
The only downside of this whole thing is that Oda has been busier than ever, which means that he hasn't had time to hang out with Ranpo since before redhead junior got himself kidnapped and tortured. Not even enough time for
The only downside of this whole thing is that Oda has been busier than ever, which means that he hasn't had time to hang out with Ranpo since before redhead junior got himself kidnapped and tortured. Not even enough time for
dinner, which is a real shame because Ranpo /loves/ Oda's curry.
Really, as much fun as this battle is, he can't wait for it to be over. So he can get back to his regularly scheduled activities of being the scariest person in the city.
[ ODA ]: have you talked to the special
Really, as much fun as this battle is, he can't wait for it to be over. So he can get back to his regularly scheduled activities of being the scariest person in the city.
[ ODA ]: have you talked to the special
investigators??
Just the thought of those puffed-up government agents makes Ranpo's nose wrinkle in disgust. They're all just a bunch of mediocre men with inflated senses of importance and value. One of them, Ango, had spent months trying to wheedle Ranpo into joining his team,
Just the thought of those puffed-up government agents makes Ranpo's nose wrinkle in disgust. They're all just a bunch of mediocre men with inflated senses of importance and value. One of them, Ango, had spent months trying to wheedle Ranpo into joining his team,
making all sorts of promises to him.
Like Ranpo would ever give up his loyalty to Fukuzawa for things as petty as /increased pay/ and vacation time. It was insulting.
Eventually, Ango had given up, but the result was that Ranpo hated the Bureau on principle alone. The others at
Like Ranpo would ever give up his loyalty to Fukuzawa for things as petty as /increased pay/ and vacation time. It was insulting.
Eventually, Ango had given up, but the result was that Ranpo hated the Bureau on principle alone. The others at
the Agency, loyal friends that they are, had followed Ranpo's lead.
[ RANPO ]: ?? i still have my dignity ?? why tf would i talk to them they're UGLY
[ RANPO ]: also why do u think i talked to them what happened
On the other side of the room, Kunikida snatches up whatever
[ RANPO ]: ?? i still have my dignity ?? why tf would i talk to them they're UGLY
[ RANPO ]: also why do u think i talked to them what happened
On the other side of the room, Kunikida snatches up whatever
paperwork he's working on and starts lecturing him on staple placement or his handwriting during transcribing, or something else like that. Shuuji leans his chin on his palm, staring up at him with an innocent smile, the one he /knows/ pisses Kunikida off and sends him off on
even more lectures.
He's such an instigator. Ranpo likes that about him, the brat.
[ ODA ]: they got their hands on something. they know things they shouldn't. it's annoying
[ RANPO ]: arent they always annoying
[ ODA ]: yes but now theyre annoying and in my way. do u know
He's such an instigator. Ranpo likes that about him, the brat.
[ ODA ]: they got their hands on something. they know things they shouldn't. it's annoying
[ RANPO ]: arent they always annoying
[ ODA ]: yes but now theyre annoying and in my way. do u know
anything
[ RANPO ]: sure don't! :D
It's not even a lie. Ranpo doesn't know what Oda is talking about, though he's sure he could figure it out if he had a reason to. But he doesn't, beyond the arbitrary fact that he doesn't like things that piss Oda off.
Sometimes that's enough
[ RANPO ]: sure don't! :D
It's not even a lie. Ranpo doesn't know what Oda is talking about, though he's sure he could figure it out if he had a reason to. But he doesn't, beyond the arbitrary fact that he doesn't like things that piss Oda off.
Sometimes that's enough
to send Ranpo hunting, sometimes it's not. This time, he doesn't think it is-- he has his hands full watching Shuuji anyways.
Besides, Oda wouldn't be texting him if it was a /real/ problem. He'd be asking to meet up.
[ ODA ]: ugh fine. i hate dealing with those nasty whores.
Besides, Oda wouldn't be texting him if it was a /real/ problem. He'd be asking to meet up.
[ ODA ]: ugh fine. i hate dealing with those nasty whores.
did u know one of them tried to arrest k once
Yes, Ranpo does, in fact, know that, mostly because Oda is /pouty/ about it. It was years ago and nothing ever came of it, but whenever the Bureau comes up in conversation, Oda is turning his nose up and huffing in offense that they
Yes, Ranpo does, in fact, know that, mostly because Oda is /pouty/ about it. It was years ago and nothing ever came of it, but whenever the Bureau comes up in conversation, Oda is turning his nose up and huffing in offense that they
/ever/ dared to look at his wife.
It's adorable, really. Kouyou doesn't even care about it, and she's had much /worse/ people come after her, but Oda refuses to ever let this go.
[ RANPO ]: yeah lol shoulda killed him when u had the chance
[ ODA ]: too much paperwork. k would
It's adorable, really. Kouyou doesn't even care about it, and she's had much /worse/ people come after her, but Oda refuses to ever let this go.
[ RANPO ]: yeah lol shoulda killed him when u had the chance
[ ODA ]: too much paperwork. k would
have my head
That's true. Kouyou's approach to her leadership is a lot more kind and cooperative than the past leaders. It wouldn't do good to cross her, or underestimate, but compared to Mori, Yosano and Dazai? She could almost be described as /friendly/. She values peace over
That's true. Kouyou's approach to her leadership is a lot more kind and cooperative than the past leaders. It wouldn't do good to cross her, or underestimate, but compared to Mori, Yosano and Dazai? She could almost be described as /friendly/. She values peace over
petty displays of power or revenge.
[ ODA ]: anyway if the bureau is gonna be out on the streets tryna catch people, we gotta lay low. u wanna come to dinner next week sometime?akari misses u
He can't help the fond smile that grows on his face at the mention of the little girl.
[ ODA ]: anyway if the bureau is gonna be out on the streets tryna catch people, we gotta lay low. u wanna come to dinner next week sometime?akari misses u
He can't help the fond smile that grows on his face at the mention of the little girl.
Oda might run something that could probably be considered an orphanage with the emotional magnanimity that means he doesn't pick /favorites/-- but Ranpo does not. He could charitably be considered an uncle or a family friend, and Akari is /absolutely/ his favorite.
A young girl
A young girl
of eleven with a whip-smart mind and an even sharper attitude, she'd taken to Ranpo immediately. Stole all the candy from his pockets the first time they met, and ate them all. Whined and wheedled for help with her math homework, only to reveal /months/ later that she knew how to
solve the problems the entire time.
She's sneaky and a trouble maker and a menace and Ranpo loves her so much.
[ ODA ]: u can bring ur boy toy too if u want
[ ODA ]: ;)
That /bastard/. Oda knows exactly what he's doing,and Ranpo feels a curl of amusement bubble up inside him,
She's sneaky and a trouble maker and a menace and Ranpo loves her so much.
[ ODA ]: u can bring ur boy toy too if u want
[ ODA ]: ;)
That /bastard/. Oda knows exactly what he's doing,and Ranpo feels a curl of amusement bubble up inside him,
even though no one is supposed to know about his relationship with Shuuji.
It's not that he's ashamed of him or doesn't want people to know-- it's just that /he/ doesn't know what he's doing with Shuuji. Everything has happened too quickly for Ranpo to keep up with, even if he's
It's not that he's ashamed of him or doesn't want people to know-- it's just that /he/ doesn't know what he's doing with Shuuji. Everything has happened too quickly for Ranpo to keep up with, even if he's
the one pushing the envelope half the time. They're not quite friends--too much sexual tension for that-- but they also haven't so much as kissed, let alone had a conversation about what they want to be to each other.
That's why he hasn't said anything about him to anyone else.
That's why he hasn't said anything about him to anyone else.
Hard to explain who someone is when you don't know that information yourself.
He's not terribly surprised that Oda somehow knows that information anyways, though. The man /is/ still friends with Dazai, and Kouyou has eyes and ears in every part of this city. Oda has probably
He's not terribly surprised that Oda somehow knows that information anyways, though. The man /is/ still friends with Dazai, and Kouyou has eyes and ears in every part of this city. Oda has probably
had this information for days and has been waiting for the best time to reveal it.
Still, even if he and Shuuji have a talk about /them/--he makes a mental note to bring it up, because if he won't then it will probably never be addressed-- it's a bit too early to bring him home.
Still, even if he and Shuuji have a talk about /them/--he makes a mental note to bring it up, because if he won't then it will probably never be addressed-- it's a bit too early to bring him home.
Ranpo hasn't brought anyone to meet Oda before, and he wants to be /sure/ before he does that. He wants to make sure Shuuji is going to stick around before he starts to reveal all the pieces of his past.
Besides, Shuuji being who he is-- Dazai's kid, who tried to injure Chuuya
Besides, Shuuji being who he is-- Dazai's kid, who tried to injure Chuuya
to a varying degree of success-- means that Ranpo /can't/ just bring him home without warning or discussion. They'll have to have a discussion--ugh-- about it first.
[ RANPO ]: maybe later. make sure u make curry next week otherwise im not coming
[ ODA ]: sure thing
Before
[ RANPO ]: maybe later. make sure u make curry next week otherwise im not coming
[ ODA ]: sure thing
Before
Ranpo can continue the conversation, Shuuji is showing up at his desk. He rocks quietly on his heels,patiently waiting for Ranpo to notice him and give him attention.
When the detective looks up, arching an eyebrow in question, the smile on Shuuji's face grows brighter, pleased.
When the detective looks up, arching an eyebrow in question, the smile on Shuuji's face grows brighter, pleased.
The Shuuji standing in front of him now is a far cry from the Shuuji he met weeks ago.
The Shuuji then had been all sharp edges and sharper tongue, so deep in his self-dug hole that he was trying to drag someone--/anyone/-- down with him. He'd been taught that the only attention
The Shuuji then had been all sharp edges and sharper tongue, so deep in his self-dug hole that he was trying to drag someone--/anyone/-- down with him. He'd been taught that the only attention
he could reliably get was negative attention, and like any neglected child, he was willing to be mean if it meant that someone--/anyone/--would finally give him attention. He didn't act the way he did out of true desire to be cruel, but a driving need to be /noticed/.
The Shuuji
The Shuuji
of today is a bit more settled. He's not /fixed/ by any means, and he still has a long way to go in regards with accountability and apologizing for his actions, but he's at least recognized that he doesn't /need/ to be a nasty gremlin for attention. Now that he's been removed
from the situation that encourages that behavior, he's more secure in his knowledge that he can just /ask/ for attention.
If nothing else, Ranpo won't ignore him. Not if he asks.
"Kunikida kicked me out of the office," Shuuji says, grinning like he's won a prize. His hair is
If nothing else, Ranpo won't ignore him. Not if he asks.
"Kunikida kicked me out of the office," Shuuji says, grinning like he's won a prize. His hair is
longer than it was a few weeks ago, and it falls in his eyes charmingly, a mischievous young man. "You wanna get out here."
Ranpo pretends to think about it. He hasn't really been doing anything all day, since the Bureau's increased presence on the streets means that the Agency
Ranpo pretends to think about it. He hasn't really been doing anything all day, since the Bureau's increased presence on the streets means that the Agency
has less cases than it usually does. Really, if it weren't for the infighting between the Mafia and the Bratva, this would be a /very/ boring month. "Sure. Where do you wanna go?"
There's an arcade a few blocks away that they haven't been to yet. Shuuji has been wanting to go
There's an arcade a few blocks away that they haven't been to yet. Shuuji has been wanting to go
for the past week because he /swears/ he's the Dance Dance Revolution champion and he wants to beat Ranpo at something. He's expecting that Shuuji will want to go there, with their unexpected hours off--
"Let's go home?" Shuuji says instead, something in his eyes and posture
"Let's go home?" Shuuji says instead, something in his eyes and posture
softening. He’s leaning forward slightly, shoulders curving like he’s being drawn into Ranpo’s orbit. Like his world is only as wide as the space between them.
Ranpo sighs, unable to help the way the corner of his mouth softens and tips upward in a small smile. “Yeah.”
Ranpo sighs, unable to help the way the corner of his mouth softens and tips upward in a small smile. “Yeah.”
That reminds him though—
“We have to stop by the new place first, though. I have to sign some papers so I can get the keys.”
All told, the fact that Dazai was able to buy a condo in Ranpo’s name in only a few weeks is impressive. By normal standards, at least. He’s sure Kouyou
“We have to stop by the new place first, though. I have to sign some papers so I can get the keys.”
All told, the fact that Dazai was able to buy a condo in Ranpo’s name in only a few weeks is impressive. By normal standards, at least. He’s sure Kouyou
could have done it in less time, if she wanted to.
Shuuji perks up. He’s been adorably interested in the new apartment, spending an almost ridiculous amount of time looking at the pictures of it online. He’s also sent Ranpo dozens of pictures of interior designs, only a few of
Shuuji perks up. He’s been adorably interested in the new apartment, spending an almost ridiculous amount of time looking at the pictures of it online. He’s also sent Ranpo dozens of pictures of interior designs, only a few of
which are actually possible to incorporate into the new apartment, or even the old one.
Still, his enthusiasm is infectious. Even if they won't be officially living together-- Shuuji has been assigned to a dorm at the college at the beginning of the semester, now that it's
Still, his enthusiasm is infectious. Even if they won't be officially living together-- Shuuji has been assigned to a dorm at the college at the beginning of the semester, now that it's
obvious that he won't be going back to either of his parents houses-- it's still nice to see someone who is uncomplicatedly happy about a new living space.
Ranpo has been struggling with the idea of letting go of his first home himself. The apartment he has now might be tiny,
Ranpo has been struggling with the idea of letting go of his first home himself. The apartment he has now might be tiny,
but it was the first thing was ever his. The first home that was only ever /his/, and it's a strange feeling to be contemplating saying goodbye to it forever.
"Okay," Shuuji chrips, watching as Ranpo pushes everything on his desk to his unique brand of organized chaos, "I've
"Okay," Shuuji chrips, watching as Ranpo pushes everything on his desk to his unique brand of organized chaos, "I've
wanted to see it anyways. I know for a fact that the pictures they used don't match up to the real thing."
Somehow, the thought of moving on and moving forward is less intimidating when he has Shuuji at his side.
The train ride to the condo is about the same amount of time it
Somehow, the thought of moving on and moving forward is less intimidating when he has Shuuji at his side.
The train ride to the condo is about the same amount of time it
takes to get to his current apartment, just in the opposite direction. It's closer to the business district of the city, the heart of skyscraping glass towers. It's a more luxurious part of the city,which means that there's a lot of more people, and almost all of them are dressed
better than Ranpo or Shuuji are. Even the sidestreet restaurants are much more sophisticated than the food stalls back in his neighborhood.
Curious, he watches Shuuji out of the corner of his eye as they walk. There's always been this sense of entitlement that hangs around the
Curious, he watches Shuuji out of the corner of his eye as they walk. There's always been this sense of entitlement that hangs around the
other man, something about the set of his shoulders and the angle of his chin that radiates an expectance of being noticed and catered to. It's the rich boy in him, the result of a childhood where he was able to have nearly anything he could ever want given to him at a moments
notice, of being told that he’s better than a whole host of people just based on what family he was born into, of never having to face true, physical struggling.
He fits in here, in the neighborhood of the rich and privileged, even when he’s wearing one of Ranpo’s too-big
He fits in here, in the neighborhood of the rich and privileged, even when he’s wearing one of Ranpo’s too-big
shirts and a pair of scuffed-up boots that he bought from a thrift store. It’s an interesting combination, the attitude and the clothes.
It suits him well though.
Once they get to the condo tower, the signing of the papers and the exchange of keys only takes about half an
It suits him well though.
Once they get to the condo tower, the signing of the papers and the exchange of keys only takes about half an
hour. Could’ve gone quicker than that, but Ranpo knows better than to sign any contracts he hasn’t at least looked over.
Then they’re allowed up into the condo itself. It requires a passcode, and Ranpo doesn’t correct the real estate lady when she hands both of them a copy of
Then they’re allowed up into the condo itself. It requires a passcode, and Ranpo doesn’t correct the real estate lady when she hands both of them a copy of
the code. Shuuji immediately stuffs it in his pocket, like Ranpo might take it away from him if he doesn’t hide it quickly enough.
The apartment is on the thirtieth floor, a height that would be unbearable if it weren’t for the trio of easily accessible elevators. They have
The apartment is on the thirtieth floor, a height that would be unbearable if it weren’t for the trio of easily accessible elevators. They have
glass floors and sides, letting them watch as the ground drops away beneath them.
It’s not an overly crowded building, so when they exit onto the correct floor, there’s no one in the hallway. It feels strange to walk down a long, carpeted hallway without any of his neighbors
It’s not an overly crowded building, so when they exit onto the correct floor, there’s no one in the hallway. It feels strange to walk down a long, carpeted hallway without any of his neighbors
popping out to go to work and saying hello as they pass. He doesn’t know anybody here, and while Ranpo would never say that he’s a particularly /social/ man—
He’s always stayed in one spot, and that means he will eventually get to know everyone that stays.
The door unlocks
He’s always stayed in one spot, and that means he will eventually get to know everyone that stays.
The door unlocks
with a quiet clock, and it doesn’t even make that loud squeaking noise that Ranpo’s apartment makes every time the door opens.
Shuuji bounds in first, looking around with a childish enthusiasm, like he’s being presented with a museum of exciting artifacts instead of an empty
Shuuji bounds in first, looking around with a childish enthusiasm, like he’s being presented with a museum of exciting artifacts instead of an empty
apartment.
It’s a spacious condo, with a sectioned off kitchen and living areas. There’s two bedrooms, Ranpo knows, one with a walk-in closet. There’s a bathroom and a hallway closet, but the best part is none of those things.
The best part is the /view/. A wall of windows
It’s a spacious condo, with a sectioned off kitchen and living areas. There’s two bedrooms, Ranpo knows, one with a walk-in closet. There’s a bathroom and a hallway closet, but the best part is none of those things.
The best part is the /view/. A wall of windows
overlooks the city below, at just the right height to feel a part of the fog that rolls off the ocean in the early mornings. The building isn’t positioned correctly to offer a view of the sunrise, but it does give a wide view of the sprawling city.
There’s a balcony, too, big
There’s a balcony, too, big
enough to fit a couple of chairs and a table. The railing is glass as well, making sure that the view stays unobstructed.
It’s there that Shuuji heads to first. Slipping out of the door, he goes to stand by the railing. With only his hand on the railing and a thick sheet of
It’s there that Shuuji heads to first. Slipping out of the door, he goes to stand by the railing. With only his hand on the railing and a thick sheet of
glass keeping him from falling through the sky, he leans over fearlessly.
The wind blows the hair off his forehead, exposing the small scar etched above his left eyebrow. There’s a faint pink tinge to his cheeks, a result of soaking up the sun by sprawling underneath the window
The wind blows the hair off his forehead, exposing the small scar etched above his left eyebrow. There’s a faint pink tinge to his cheeks, a result of soaking up the sun by sprawling underneath the window
at the Agency.His teeth,shown off in a breathless and unselfconscious grin, are almost startlingly white and straight.
Ranpo is a man who has learned to curb many of his wants. He has had and lost many things, wanted and never got many others.He has learned, through circumstance
Ranpo is a man who has learned to curb many of his wants. He has had and lost many things, wanted and never got many others.He has learned, through circumstance
and tribulation, that life is a lot easier when he just /stops/ wanting things. Wanting doesn’t feed him, wanting doesn’t put a roof over his head, wanting doesn’t bring his parents back.
It’s easier to keep himself limited to the small things. Candy. A trinket here or there.
It’s easier to keep himself limited to the small things. Candy. A trinket here or there.
Small things, things he doesn’t actually need, so it doesn’t destroy him when he doesn’t get it. Things that mean nothing to him, in the grand scheme of things.
It is so much easier to just stop wanting things. His therapist says it’s /unhealthy/— but his therapist has never
It is so much easier to just stop wanting things. His therapist says it’s /unhealthy/— but his therapist has never
been homeless and hungry, crying out for his parents to make the ache in his stomach go away, so.
It’s a work in progress.
Here, Ranpo finds himself almost struck by it, the realization that his life is not something he truly chose for himself. At no point had he ever wanted
It’s a work in progress.
Here, Ranpo finds himself almost struck by it, the realization that his life is not something he truly chose for himself. At no point had he ever wanted
—/truly/ wanted— his life to end up like this.
And yet here he is, with Shuuji, who was only ever given the luxury of choosing his life. He could’ve done anything. He could’ve gone anywhere, been anything.
He could’ve had anything, and yet here is, in Ranpo’s new apartment,
And yet here he is, with Shuuji, who was only ever given the luxury of choosing his life. He could’ve done anything. He could’ve gone anywhere, been anything.
He could’ve had anything, and yet here is, in Ranpo’s new apartment,
grinning into free fall, looking for all the world like he’s never wanted to be anywhere else.
Ranpo wants him. Wants him fiercely, not in the way he’s wanted his past one night stands and brief flings. Wants to crack him open, wants to see him broken and whole, wants to sink
Ranpo wants him. Wants him fiercely, not in the way he’s wanted his past one night stands and brief flings. Wants to crack him open, wants to see him broken and whole, wants to sink
his hands into the tender heart of him and scoop out every bit of it.
As if sensing the sudden shift, Shuuji tilts his head to look at him. It’s not sunset, not quite golden hour, but the way the sunlight hits his eyes make them look like molten honey, amber mixed with swirls of
As if sensing the sudden shift, Shuuji tilts his head to look at him. It’s not sunset, not quite golden hour, but the way the sunlight hits his eyes make them look like molten honey, amber mixed with swirls of
rich brown. A scaled-down picture of the world, as sugar-sweet and sappy as it comes.
Something in Shuuji softens when he realizes Ranpo is already looking. His posture, maybe, or perhaps his smile. Either way, it’s as if the image he projects to the world— all bitter-tinged
Something in Shuuji softens when he realizes Ranpo is already looking. His posture, maybe, or perhaps his smile. Either way, it’s as if the image he projects to the world— all bitter-tinged
privilege and mischievous playfulness— falls away, and leaves only the boy behind, young and growing and sticky-sweet.
“It’s beautiful,” he says, sweeping his fingertips over the top of the balcony railing. Ranpo knows he’s seen better views before, but there is still something
“It’s beautiful,” he says, sweeping his fingertips over the top of the balcony railing. Ranpo knows he’s seen better views before, but there is still something
captivating about changing your perspective on things you have seen a hundred times before. Something awe-inspiring about elevating yourself and seeing how smalle everything truly is, and witnessing how far you can see.
Ranpo takes a step closer, a tether-tug in his chest urging
Ranpo takes a step closer, a tether-tug in his chest urging
him forward. Closer. "Yeah, it is."
He's not talking about the city.
Shuuji completes his turn, moving to lean backwards against the railing. He's tall enough that he could tip over, if he leaned too far or if the railing moved behind him. The prospect of that doesn't seem to
He's not talking about the city.
Shuuji completes his turn, moving to lean backwards against the railing. He's tall enough that he could tip over, if he leaned too far or if the railing moved behind him. The prospect of that doesn't seem to
even occur to him, because he leans his entire weight against the glass without hesitation.
Ranpo could push him over the edge easily.
He won't. Wouldn't ask him to commit to a fall Ranpo would not join him on.
Resting his elbows on the railing, Shuuji continues softly, a
Ranpo could push him over the edge easily.
He won't. Wouldn't ask him to commit to a fall Ranpo would not join him on.
Resting his elbows on the railing, Shuuji continues softly, a
wealth of hidden meaning dripping from his tone, "I like it a lot."
Now Ranpo isn't sure if Shuuji is still talking about the view, but--
Does it matter?
Another step closer, feeling a surge of satisfaction when Shuuji's eyes watch his every moment.
Normally, Shuuji is a bit
Now Ranpo isn't sure if Shuuji is still talking about the view, but--
Does it matter?
Another step closer, feeling a surge of satisfaction when Shuuji's eyes watch his every moment.
Normally, Shuuji is a bit
taller than him. Probably close to a dozen centimeters when Shuuji is standing straight,but it's hard to remember the exact distance between them when Shuuji seems to effortlessly bend around Ranpo's presence.
"I do too," is Ranpo's answer. He's still not talking about the view,
"I do too," is Ranpo's answer. He's still not talking about the view,
and Shuuji /must/ know by now, based on the way he's watching him step closer, on the way his fingers keep twitching and his weight keeps shifting like he's fighting the urge to fidget nervously.
When Ranpo steps close enough to touch, he has to look up to keep eye contact. It's
When Ranpo steps close enough to touch, he has to look up to keep eye contact. It's
not an entirely unpleasant situation, but right /now/--
It just won't do.
Shuuji sucks in a breath when he reaches out to touch him, fingertips dragging over his chest through the shirt. He's warm under his hands, wired tension practically vibrating through him-- and yet when
It just won't do.
Shuuji sucks in a breath when he reaches out to touch him, fingertips dragging over his chest through the shirt. He's warm under his hands, wired tension practically vibrating through him-- and yet when
Ranpo pushes out of curiosity, Shuuji is shifting easily under the pressure.
The air between them is charged and crackling with electricity, thick enough that it feels like breathing in lightning every time Ranpo inhales. It builds on itself, a towering storm cloud that will
The air between them is charged and crackling with electricity, thick enough that it feels like breathing in lightning every time Ranpo inhales. It builds on itself, a towering storm cloud that will
consume them both.
In the back of Ranpo's mind, he knows they should talk about this. It's the correct thing to do, it's the thing his therapist is always pushing him to work on,it's the only way to solve this uncertain fumbling between them.
But at his heart, Ranpo is a man of
In the back of Ranpo's mind, he knows they should talk about this. It's the correct thing to do, it's the thing his therapist is always pushing him to work on,it's the only way to solve this uncertain fumbling between them.
But at his heart, Ranpo is a man of
action and not of discussion.
So he drags his hand up, up, /up/, until he's brushing the faint outline of collarbones underneath his holey shirt. Further up, feeling a surge of satisfaction when he feels Shuuji's pounding pulse underneath his fingertips, when he watches him tip
So he drags his hand up, up, /up/, until he's brushing the faint outline of collarbones underneath his holey shirt. Further up, feeling a surge of satisfaction when he feels Shuuji's pounding pulse underneath his fingertips, when he watches him tip
his chin upwards as he leans his weight forward, offering up his throat so effortlessly and easily that Ranpo can’t /not/ wrap his fingers around it.
He doesn’t squeeze. He keeps his grip light, palm cupping his Adam’s Apple and fingers pressed lightly over his pulse points so
He doesn’t squeeze. He keeps his grip light, palm cupping his Adam’s Apple and fingers pressed lightly over his pulse points so
he can feel how fast his heart is racing.
There’s a long, drawn-out moment where they just look at eachother, silently acknowledging the thrumming energy between them, a feedback loop that builds on itself with every touch and every moment of eye contact.
Then, slowly enough
There’s a long, drawn-out moment where they just look at eachother, silently acknowledging the thrumming energy between them, a feedback loop that builds on itself with every touch and every moment of eye contact.
Then, slowly enough
that either of them could stop it if they wished, Ranpo tightens his grip, and pulls.
Shuuji moves easily, letting himself be tugged down to his level without anything more than a shuddered exhale. Almost out of sight, his hands shift to grab the railing, fingers flexing
Shuuji moves easily, letting himself be tugged down to his level without anything more than a shuddered exhale. Almost out of sight, his hands shift to grab the railing, fingers flexing
rhythmically. His eyes grow wider every centimeter they get closer, looking so shocked it's almost funny.
He doesn't say anything though. Just lets himself be tugged into position and waits to see what Ranpo will do with him.
Ranpo doesn't say anything either. At least, not at
He doesn't say anything though. Just lets himself be tugged into position and waits to see what Ranpo will do with him.
Ranpo doesn't say anything either. At least, not at
first. Not until Shuuji is only a few centimeters away, his breath washing over Ranpo's face in warm, nervous gusts.
Then he pauses, bracing his grip on Shuuji's neck just enough to hold him in place when he tries to keep leaning forward. This close, his eyes are huge, the only
Then he pauses, bracing his grip on Shuuji's neck just enough to hold him in place when he tries to keep leaning forward. This close, his eyes are huge, the only
thing Ranpo can see. The only thing he wants to see in this moment.
He lets the corner of his mouth curve into a cocky smirk, watching with satisfaction as brown eyes flicker down to watch the movement raptly.
Pressing his thumb down just hard enough to feel how his pulse
He lets the corner of his mouth curve into a cocky smirk, watching with satisfaction as brown eyes flicker down to watch the movement raptly.
Pressing his thumb down just hard enough to feel how his pulse
struggles to pump past his grip, Ranpo leans another centimeter closer, enough that his breath coasts over Shuuji’s lips when he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”
Shuuji jerks like he offered something shocking, his eyes widening even further. For a second, he doesn’t seem able to
Shuuji jerks like he offered something shocking, his eyes widening even further. For a second, he doesn’t seem able to
answer, too shocked to reply— and then he’s nodding quickly, leaning forward harder, one hand instinctively finding Ranpo’s shirt and clenching onto it like he’s afraid he might move away if he doesn’t answer quickly enough.
Well, if he’s /that/ eager—
Closing the scant
Well, if he’s /that/ eager—
Closing the scant
distance between them, Ranpo claims their first kiss.
It’s an easy thing. Natural. Not colored by the usual awkwardness of a first kiss, the slight struggle as they both get used to the other.
Shuuji’s lips are full and plush against his own, slightly rough from his tendency
It’s an easy thing. Natural. Not colored by the usual awkwardness of a first kiss, the slight struggle as they both get used to the other.
Shuuji’s lips are full and plush against his own, slightly rough from his tendency
to bite them. His breath tastes like the cotton-candy lollipop he stole from Ranpo’s pocket, and he does not smell like the high-city wind or golden sunbeams. However, he is warm from the sun, a gentle radiating heat that feels luxurious and indulgent. A simple pleasure that even
beasts appreciate, like cats sprawled out in sunbeams.
Shuuji feels like summer. Almost too hot to be borne, a radiance that can burn under the right circumstances, long days and short nights, a childlike freedom of not having responsibilities, of play and sugar-sweet drinks,
Shuuji feels like summer. Almost too hot to be borne, a radiance that can burn under the right circumstances, long days and short nights, a childlike freedom of not having responsibilities, of play and sugar-sweet drinks,
hiding in the shade and slathering sunscreen on to protect yourself from the inhospitable sun.
Everyone likes the idea of summer, and yet when it comes, no one likes the burns that come with. They want a summer that's quieter, milder, easier to handle.
Ranpo's favorite season
Everyone likes the idea of summer, and yet when it comes, no one likes the burns that come with. They want a summer that's quieter, milder, easier to handle.
Ranpo's favorite season
has always been winter, but with his hands full of sun-warmed skin, and his nose full with the smell of wind and familiar laundry detergent, hot breath washing over his face and a wet mouth opening eagerly underneath the testing swipe of his tongue-- he thinks summer makes a very
argument.
Unconsciously, Ranpo presses closer. Shuuji ends up squeezed between him and the railing, with nothing to catch him if he ends up tipping over. He's tangled up in Ranpo, one of his hands finding his shoulder and the other tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck,
Unconsciously, Ranpo presses closer. Shuuji ends up squeezed between him and the railing, with nothing to catch him if he ends up tipping over. He's tangled up in Ranpo, one of his hands finding his shoulder and the other tangling in the hairs at the nape of his neck,
bent over to minimize the height difference.
It's a good first kiss. A hint of recklessness and daring, a stream of desire and desperation turning into a burning need to know /more/, tiny fumbles when Ranpo pulls on him too hard or Shuuji tries to sink his teeth into his bottom
It's a good first kiss. A hint of recklessness and daring, a stream of desire and desperation turning into a burning need to know /more/, tiny fumbles when Ranpo pulls on him too hard or Shuuji tries to sink his teeth into his bottom
lip and ends up missing entirely. It's not fast enough or hard enough, and it's unequal, Ranpo pulling too hard and Shuuji pushing forward too quickly.
It's not perfect, but it's /good/. It's the thrill of doing something for the first time and the discovery that you could be
It's not perfect, but it's /good/. It's the thrill of doing something for the first time and the discovery that you could be
/good/ at this, given a little time. It's expecting to make something horrible and bland-- only to take a step back when it's done and realize you did pretty damn well. It's watching a skill become more and more refined the longer you work on it, and it's wanting to keep /going/,
pushing yourself to get better and better.
It's wanting to do this for a very, very long time-- for the rest of your life, maybe.
Ranpo would not mind doing this for a very, /very/ long time. Slowly getting familiar with Shuuji's tells and his preferences, realizing what every
It's wanting to do this for a very, very long time-- for the rest of your life, maybe.
Ranpo would not mind doing this for a very, /very/ long time. Slowly getting familiar with Shuuji's tells and his preferences, realizing what every
hitch of his breath means, getting to know when he wants more and when they should slow down, getting to know everything about him.
For Ranpo, who has only ever been know by a few people, the idea of that is intoxicating. To know and be known, down to the air in his lungs and
For Ranpo, who has only ever been know by a few people, the idea of that is intoxicating. To know and be known, down to the air in his lungs and
the thoughts that flicker through his head. To expose the soft, true vulnerability of his underbelly and know that he'll be safe.
For perhaps the first time, Ranpo would like to share himself with someone.
By unspoken agreement, the kiss remains steady. It doesn't rush into
For perhaps the first time, Ranpo would like to share himself with someone.
By unspoken agreement, the kiss remains steady. It doesn't rush into
heated desperation or slow into something sweet and familiar. It stays explorative, each of them trying out new things just to see the reactions it pulls.
When Shuuji swipes the top of his tongue over Ranpo's top lip, it makes him smile. When Ranpo dodges his bite so he can sink
When Shuuji swipes the top of his tongue over Ranpo's top lip, it makes him smile. When Ranpo dodges his bite so he can sink
his own teeth into his lip, Shuuji gives a humming gasp. When Ranpo sucks his tongue into his mouth, he's delightfully eager, flicking his tongue over his palate and exploring his back teeth. When Shuuji tips his head to better the angle, Ranpo shivers as the hand in his hair
tightens and pulls just slightly.
In the end, he doesn't know how long they stand there kissing. It's long enough that Ranpo's lips turn numb, then tingling, and then back into oversensitivity. Long enough that it becomes natural for Shuuji's breath to be washing over his face
In the end, he doesn't know how long they stand there kissing. It's long enough that Ranpo's lips turn numb, then tingling, and then back into oversensitivity. Long enough that it becomes natural for Shuuji's breath to be washing over his face
and into his lungs. Shuuji's hands on him go from gripping tightly, like he might escape if he loosens his grip, to a lazy, unconscious flexing, like a cat.
The entire time, Ranpo's mind is blissfully, wonderfully and completely empty. He's not worried about how to push this
The entire time, Ranpo's mind is blissfully, wonderfully and completely empty. He's not worried about how to push this
pleasantry forward, he's not preoccupied with a difficult case, he's not searching for something to keep his overactive mind active.
For these long, blissful moments, it's just Ranpo and Shuuji, and the bubbling emotions between them. It's not complicated, it's not confusing--
For these long, blissful moments, it's just Ranpo and Shuuji, and the bubbling emotions between them. It's not complicated, it's not confusing--
It's just them. Simple and easy to understand.
Unsurprisingly, Ranpo is the one to break the kiss. He ends it slowly, dipping back for a few light pecks simply because he feels like it. Because he can feel Shuuji's smile growing slowly and surely, and he wants to have a taste of
Unsurprisingly, Ranpo is the one to break the kiss. He ends it slowly, dipping back for a few light pecks simply because he feels like it. Because he can feel Shuuji's smile growing slowly and surely, and he wants to have a taste of
his happiness.
Eventually they slow to a stop, standing close enough that their foreheads are nearly touching. Shuuji's back must be aching from bending over for so long, but he doesn't utter a single complaint. He's leaning in just as much as Ranpo is, breathing in the hot and
Eventually they slow to a stop, standing close enough that their foreheads are nearly touching. Shuuji's back must be aching from bending over for so long, but he doesn't utter a single complaint. He's leaning in just as much as Ranpo is, breathing in the hot and
humid air.
When he speaks, he can feel the vibration of his voice through the hand on his neck. "That was nice."
Amusement curls through Ranpo, makes his fingers squeeze affectionately before he remembers to let go. "Yeah."
He takes a step back, refusing to let himself feel a
When he speaks, he can feel the vibration of his voice through the hand on his neck. "That was nice."
Amusement curls through Ranpo, makes his fingers squeeze affectionately before he remembers to let go. "Yeah."
He takes a step back, refusing to let himself feel a
pang of disappointment when Shuuji's hands slide off him.
Shuuji straightens with a groan, rolling his neck and arching his back until the ache goes away. When he's done, he leans back against the railing again, somehow managing a charmingly attractive sprawl. His smile, when he
Shuuji straightens with a groan, rolling his neck and arching his back until the ache goes away. When he's done, he leans back against the railing again, somehow managing a charmingly attractive sprawl. His smile, when he
flashes it at Ranpo, somehow looks better now that he knows what it tastes like. "We should do that again."
A snort escapes him before he can call it back. "Eager. Didn't anyone teach you patience?"
When Ranpo turns to go back into the apartment with the vague impression of
A snort escapes him before he can call it back. "Eager. Didn't anyone teach you patience?"
When Ranpo turns to go back into the apartment with the vague impression of
mentally mapping out where all of his things will go-- he won't be moving /everything/ from his current apartment, and he'll definitely have to buy some new furniture to fill up all this new space-- Shuuji is immediately draping himself over his shoulders and whining in his ear.
"Noo," he cries, dragging his feet, "I don't want to be patient! I've been patient for so long."
Facing away from him,Ranpo doesn't have to hide his amused smile. He doesn't let himself be pulled to a stop,hitching Shuuji's weight higher on his shoulders and practically dragging
Facing away from him,Ranpo doesn't have to hide his amused smile. He doesn't let himself be pulled to a stop,hitching Shuuji's weight higher on his shoulders and practically dragging
him back through the apartment. "Too bad; I've got stuff to do."
Shuuji wails like he's been shot. "But what about me? When is it my turn?"
"When I say it is."
Before they can continue this banter--a playful argument that might end up with Shuuji pinned against the wall if he
Shuuji wails like he's been shot. "But what about me? When is it my turn?"
"When I say it is."
Before they can continue this banter--a playful argument that might end up with Shuuji pinned against the wall if he
plays his cards right--, there's a knock on the door, quiet but firm.
Ranpo pauses in the middle of the living room, eyes narrowing on the front door. He shouldn't be getting any visitors. He hasn't even officially moved in yet, and the only one who knows about this condo is
Ranpo pauses in the middle of the living room, eyes narrowing on the front door. He shouldn't be getting any visitors. He hasn't even officially moved in yet, and the only one who knows about this condo is
inside with him.
Well, not the /only/ one. Ranpo has a sneaking suspicion about who is on the other side.
Shrugging Shuuji off, he ignores his melodramatic sprawling over the counter separating the kitchen and living room while he goes to check who is at the door. Answering
Well, not the /only/ one. Ranpo has a sneaking suspicion about who is on the other side.
Shrugging Shuuji off, he ignores his melodramatic sprawling over the counter separating the kitchen and living room while he goes to check who is at the door. Answering
the door for unexpected guests isn’t usually something he does— someone has /attempted/ to rob him once— but for this he should probably make an exception.
It’s a good thing he did, because it’s /exactly/ who he thought it was—
Dazai, rocking back on his heels and looking
It’s a good thing he did, because it’s /exactly/ who he thought it was—
Dazai, rocking back on his heels and looking
incredibly awkward. He doesn’t say anything to Ranpo, merely offering his hand in the most awkward wave he has ever seen.
Ranpo’s eyebrows shoot up. It’s not often that he sees Dazai,especially on what he would consider his home turf. They might be on opposite sides of the law,
Ranpo’s eyebrows shoot up. It’s not often that he sees Dazai,especially on what he would consider his home turf. They might be on opposite sides of the law,
and generally run in adjacent business circles, but they’ve never had many reasons to interact with each other until recently.
They had a silent understanding; Ranpo didn’t interfere with whatever Dazai was sticking his hands in unless it affected him personally.
Now, he
They had a silent understanding; Ranpo didn’t interfere with whatever Dazai was sticking his hands in unless it affected him personally.
Now, he
supposes that a /lot/ of what Dazai does affects him personally now, considering just who is standing and straightening behind him.
The smile Ranpo gives him might be a little mean for a casual visit, but he’s never had cause to be /nice/ to Dazai. “What can I help you with?”
The smile Ranpo gives him might be a little mean for a casual visit, but he’s never had cause to be /nice/ to Dazai. “What can I help you with?”
As far as he knows, Dazai has been laying low for weeks now. Ranpo is pretty sure he left the city for a few days about two weeks ago, but other than that he has no idea what he’s been up to, or why he’s here right now.
He knows better than to ask for Ranpo’s help without a
He knows better than to ask for Ranpo’s help without a
significant bribe. He knows better than to show up unannounced and empty handed.
Dazai huffs. "You're a hard man to get a hold of," he says,crossing his arms over his chest. He looks better-fed than the last time Ranpo saw him,filling out his shirt more and looking significantly
Dazai huffs. "You're a hard man to get a hold of," he says,crossing his arms over his chest. He looks better-fed than the last time Ranpo saw him,filling out his shirt more and looking significantly
more relaxed.
That's true,mostly only because of who Dazai is. It's not like he can show up to the Agency any time he wants, and Ranpo has taken pains to hide his tiny apartment from being common knowledge. This is probably the only place Dazai /could/ find him.
He wonders how
That's true,mostly only because of who Dazai is. It's not like he can show up to the Agency any time he wants, and Ranpo has taken pains to hide his tiny apartment from being common knowledge. This is probably the only place Dazai /could/ find him.
He wonders how
long he's been waiting to speak with him.
"Is Shuuji here?"
There's a muffled sound behind them as Shuuji obviously ducks behind the counter to avoid being seen. Dazai's mouth twitches,but he doesn't move or address his son directly, staring at Ranpo steadily.
Despite himself,
"Is Shuuji here?"
There's a muffled sound behind them as Shuuji obviously ducks behind the counter to avoid being seen. Dazai's mouth twitches,but he doesn't move or address his son directly, staring at Ranpo steadily.
Despite himself,
he does appreciate that sliver of respect he shows by not barging in and demanding to speak with his son even though they both know Shuuji is here.
Truth be told, Ranpo has...complicated feelings about Shuuji's and Dazai's relationship. He's well aware that he doesn't know the
Truth be told, Ranpo has...complicated feelings about Shuuji's and Dazai's relationship. He's well aware that he doesn't know the
whole story, and he's sure that Shuuji doesn't know the full story either. He knows Shuuji hasn't been the /best/ of people, and he's done a lot that deserves punishment. He knows that both of them have made mistakes, and Dazai has never gone out of his way to be deliberately
and unnecessarily cruel to his son.
/However/, he also knows that the second time he saw Shuuji, he had marks from dog teeth bitten into his arm, regardless of the situation that led up to that. He had been crying, and drinking, and he didn't have anywhere to go.
Maybe he
/However/, he also knows that the second time he saw Shuuji, he had marks from dog teeth bitten into his arm, regardless of the situation that led up to that. He had been crying, and drinking, and he didn't have anywhere to go.
Maybe he
would've found somewhere to stay. Maybe he wouldn't have. Dazai hadn't seemed to care about that when he kicked him out.
And over the last weeks, weeks that Shuuji had spent curled up and sleeping on his floor-- neither of his parents had contacted him. Not that Ranpo knew of,
And over the last weeks, weeks that Shuuji had spent curled up and sleeping on his floor-- neither of his parents had contacted him. Not that Ranpo knew of,
at least. It didn't seem like Shuuji was /trying/ to contact them either, at least beyond that first call with his mother, but the fact remains that Shuuji had been lost and alone, and Dazai hadn't bothered to check up on him.
Maybe he knew where he was due to his connects in
Maybe he knew where he was due to his connects in
the underground, and knew that he was safe. Maybe he didn't, and he just didn't care.
Ranpo knows all this--
But he also knows that if /he/ had the chance to speak with his father again,no matter how hard they might've fought sometimes, he would do anything.
It's also not his
Ranpo knows all this--
But he also knows that if /he/ had the chance to speak with his father again,no matter how hard they might've fought sometimes, he would do anything.
It's also not his
choice. As much as he might want to keep Shuuji locked away and unharmed, show him what it's like to live with people that /genuinely/ and uncomplicatedly care about him--
He can't do that. It's not his choice. It's Shuuji's.
He shuts the door in Dazai's face without answering.
He can't do that. It's not his choice. It's Shuuji's.
He shuts the door in Dazai's face without answering.
Turning back around, he spots Shuuji peeking over the counter edge, only his forehead and eyes visible. When he sees that Ranpo didn't let Dazai in, his face does something complicated that might be relief or might be disappointed.
Ranpo crosses over to him, looking down on his
Ranpo crosses over to him, looking down on his
crouched position. “Do you want to talk to him?”
Shuuji blinks up at him,looking surprised that his opinion was asked at all. Which makes sense—from what Ranpo has gathered, he saw his father whenever his mother said he was going to and never any other time, and he was basically
Shuuji blinks up at him,looking surprised that his opinion was asked at all. Which makes sense—from what Ranpo has gathered, he saw his father whenever his mother said he was going to and never any other time, and he was basically
pushed into agreeing to stay with Dazai for his college career.
How many times has Shuuji been asked his opinion? Not on silly, inconsequential things—but the things that /really/ matter?
“I’ll make him leave if you don’t want to talk to him,” he continues when Shuuji doesn’t
How many times has Shuuji been asked his opinion? Not on silly, inconsequential things—but the things that /really/ matter?
“I’ll make him leave if you don’t want to talk to him,” he continues when Shuuji doesn’t
give an answer, “but he said he wants to talk to you.”
“Oh, uhm,” he hesitates, eyes flicking between Ranpo and the door. Then he surprises him by asking, “Do you think I should talk to him?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Ranpo stares at him, taking in his expression and
“Oh, uhm,” he hesitates, eyes flicking between Ranpo and the door. Then he surprises him by asking, “Do you think I should talk to him?”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Ranpo stares at him, taking in his expression and
his posture. He looks nervous but hopeful, eager and anxious.
As much as he might want to give him a quick, easy answer, none of this is quick or easy. It’s messy and tangled and complicated.
And also Ranpo has been working on his control issues, curtesy of his therapist.
As much as he might want to give him a quick, easy answer, none of this is quick or easy. It’s messy and tangled and complicated.
And also Ranpo has been working on his control issues, curtesy of his therapist.
What can he say, self improvement is it’s own reward.
Or whatever those inspirational posters on the wall say.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. Do you want to talk to him?”
Shuuji wrinkles his nose at him in irritation, and then sighs. He straightens up, no longer taking
Or whatever those inspirational posters on the wall say.
“It doesn’t matter what I think. Do you want to talk to him?”
Shuuji wrinkles his nose at him in irritation, and then sighs. He straightens up, no longer taking
refuge behind the kitchen counter or Ranpo's relatively smaller frame. "Yeah, I guess. What's the worst that could happen?"
He says it like a joke, like it really doesn't matter to him, like he's really not worried about having a conversation with his dad-- even though they can
He says it like a joke, like it really doesn't matter to him, like he's really not worried about having a conversation with his dad-- even though they can
both see that he /does/.
And it's okay that he does. It's okay that he wants to speak with his dad, to potentially have a relationship with him, even after all the bad things that have happened between them. It's okay if he wants his parents in his life, even if they aren't
And it's okay that he does. It's okay that he wants to speak with his dad, to potentially have a relationship with him, even after all the bad things that have happened between them. It's okay if he wants his parents in his life, even if they aren't
/good/ parents.
What's important is knowing that there's no more 'worsts' that can happen.
"I'll be in the room," Ranpo tells him, a silent reminder that he will be within reach even if he's not shameless enough to eavesdrop on their conversation. He's not leaving him to speak
What's important is knowing that there's no more 'worsts' that can happen.
"I'll be in the room," Ranpo tells him, a silent reminder that he will be within reach even if he's not shameless enough to eavesdrop on their conversation. He's not leaving him to speak
with his father alone.
"Right," Shuuji agrees, watching as he makes his way to what will be the master bedroom. By his side, his fingers twitch in an aborted reach.
After another moment-- and a long breath for courage--, Shuuji moves to the front door himself and opens it.
"Right," Shuuji agrees, watching as he makes his way to what will be the master bedroom. By his side, his fingers twitch in an aborted reach.
After another moment-- and a long breath for courage--, Shuuji moves to the front door himself and opens it.
Dazai is still standing there, arms crossed over his chest as he waits. The amused expression on his face melts into shock when he sees who answered the door, and then changes into something awkward, something soft.
"Hey, Shuuji," he starts, offering him a tremulous smile, "Can
"Hey, Shuuji," he starts, offering him a tremulous smile, "Can
we talk?"
Shuuji giving a tentative nod is the last thing Ranpo says before he disappears into the master bedroom out of sight. He doesn't completely shut the door, leaving it cracked just slightly.
Tuning out the low murmurs of conversation in the other room, he surveys what
Shuuji giving a tentative nod is the last thing Ranpo says before he disappears into the master bedroom out of sight. He doesn't completely shut the door, leaving it cracked just slightly.
Tuning out the low murmurs of conversation in the other room, he surveys what
will one day be his room. It's spacious and clean, with a large closet and a small bench fixed to the window. The floor is made out of light-colored wood,brightening the entire space by reflecting the natural light.
Looking at it, Ranpo kind of misses his tiny bed-space at home.
Looking at it, Ranpo kind of misses his tiny bed-space at home.
Sure, it was small and cramped, but it was comfy and familiar. He didn't have to worry about filling up space because he didn't /have/ any.
Since he doesn't have anything else to do and he's not about to go barging back into Shuuji's conversation, he sits down with his back to
Since he doesn't have anything else to do and he's not about to go barging back into Shuuji's conversation, he sits down with his back to
the wall and pulls out his phone to play one of the racing games he recently downloaded. It's not as good as the games on his switch, but it's better than sitting here twiddling his thumbs while he waits.
He's not sure how long Shuuji and Dazai talk for. He ends up playing a
He's not sure how long Shuuji and Dazai talk for. He ends up playing a
handful of games, absolutely trouncing someone with a username of Petrus89 and unlocking some sort of achievement that allows him to pick the color of his cars. He picks pink, of course.
Outside, there's a rough clearing of a throat followed by a long pause. Then another set of
Outside, there's a rough clearing of a throat followed by a long pause. Then another set of
murmurs before the sound of the door opening and closing.
Nothing happens for a moment. Ranpo is half-expecting Shuuji to come bounding in, metaphorical tail wagging as he spills all the details of what they talked about. He likes to overshare.
But that doesn't happen. Almost
Nothing happens for a moment. Ranpo is half-expecting Shuuji to come bounding in, metaphorical tail wagging as he spills all the details of what they talked about. He likes to overshare.
But that doesn't happen. Almost
five minutes pass and he doesn't come to find Ranpo, although he knows exactly where to find him.
Did he leave? He doesn't think he'd leave without saying goodbye, or at /least/ a text, but maybe he decided to go with his father? To spend quality time with him or keep talking
Did he leave? He doesn't think he'd leave without saying goodbye, or at /least/ a text, but maybe he decided to go with his father? To spend quality time with him or keep talking
or maybe just go home with him, now that he has somewhere else to go.
For some odd reason, Ranpo's stomach sinks at the thought of that. He finishes his last game listlessly, not caring that he comes in fifth and breaks his winning streak.
Whatever. It doesn't matter anyways.
For some odd reason, Ranpo's stomach sinks at the thought of that. He finishes his last game listlessly, not caring that he comes in fifth and breaks his winning streak.
Whatever. It doesn't matter anyways.
With a sigh, he pockets his phone again and starts to head out to the living room again. He still has to finish the initial walkthrough of the apartment,make sure everything is in order and all the appliances are working before he can start the process of moving in.
Stepping out
Stepping out
of the room, he finds--
Shuuji, standing in the middle of the room with his arms folded over his chest and frowning at the wall. For a second, he looks so much like his father that he almost has to do a double take at seeing him.
Mercifully, he doesn't look up as Ranpo enters,
Shuuji, standing in the middle of the room with his arms folded over his chest and frowning at the wall. For a second, he looks so much like his father that he almost has to do a double take at seeing him.
Mercifully, he doesn't look up as Ranpo enters,
which allows him the time to get a wrangle on the feeling of his stomach swooping pleasantly in his belly.
Shuuji doesn't look upset, or sad-- no tear tracks on his cheeks, no angry furrow to his brow, no bitter twist to his mouth-- but he does look...
Confused, maybe. Shocked.
Shuuji doesn't look upset, or sad-- no tear tracks on his cheeks, no angry furrow to his brow, no bitter twist to his mouth-- but he does look...
Confused, maybe. Shocked.
Like he's been given information that he doesn't know quite know how to reconcile with his current view.
Ranpo edges closer, unsure if he should /say/ anything or give him a hug or maybe offer to punch Dazai--
Shuuji doesn't look at him when he speaks, but his voice wavers only
Ranpo edges closer, unsure if he should /say/ anything or give him a hug or maybe offer to punch Dazai--
Shuuji doesn't look at him when he speaks, but his voice wavers only
slightly. "He apologized to me."
Taken off guard, Ranpo pauses. That's...not exactly what he was expecting to hear. Truthfully, he didn't really have an idea of what Dazai wanted to talk about, but apologizing to his son was pretty far down on the list of possibilities. "For?"
Taken off guard, Ranpo pauses. That's...not exactly what he was expecting to hear. Truthfully, he didn't really have an idea of what Dazai wanted to talk about, but apologizing to his son was pretty far down on the list of possibilities. "For?"
"For how I grew up. For the things that my mom used to tell me about him. For not being better, and for not caring as much as he should have."
That's...quite a lot of things to apologize for. And yet, is it enough?
Shuuji finally looks over at him, and while he's not /crying/,
That's...quite a lot of things to apologize for. And yet, is it enough?
Shuuji finally looks over at him, and while he's not /crying/,
there's a certain blankness in his eyes that Ranpo doesn't like. Like he's distanced, not completely present anymore. "He said he wants to try again and be a better dad."
In Ranpo's opinion, it's a bit too late for /that/, considering Shuuji is a full grown man with all the
In Ranpo's opinion, it's a bit too late for /that/, considering Shuuji is a full grown man with all the
consequences of growing up unwanted and neglected — but perhaps late is better than never, in Shuuji’s opinion.
“Do you forgive him?”
Expression twisting abruptly with frustration, Shuuji gives a huff and a sharp shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t I? He’s my dad.”
“Do you forgive him?”
Expression twisting abruptly with frustration, Shuuji gives a huff and a sharp shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t I? He’s my dad.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to forgive him.”
Shuuji hunches over, curling himself over his crossed arms. He sounds mulish when he says, “And what if I /want/ to?”
Eyeing him with sympathy, Ranpo let’s silence fall between them. There’s not much he can contribute to this
Shuuji hunches over, curling himself over his crossed arms. He sounds mulish when he says, “And what if I /want/ to?”
Eyeing him with sympathy, Ranpo let’s silence fall between them. There’s not much he can contribute to this
conversation. Even if he let himself tell Shuuji what to do, it’s not like he could give him the right answer. This is personal and conditional, both things Ranpo does not do well with.
At some point when he was getting closer, he must’ve crossed some invisible line. Turning
At some point when he was getting closer, he must’ve crossed some invisible line. Turning
suddenly, Shuuji practically flings himself into his arms.
It's only Ranpo's quick reflexes that keep him from being bowled over or dropping him entirely, one of his feet sliding back automatically to brace their combined weight as Shuuji essentially folds himself over his
It's only Ranpo's quick reflexes that keep him from being bowled over or dropping him entirely, one of his feet sliding back automatically to brace their combined weight as Shuuji essentially folds himself over his
shoulders.
"I don't know what to do," he says, muffled into his hair, a bit of his usual petulance coming into his voice. He's solid in Ranpo's arms, not heavy enough to be a burden but weighty enough to feel him. "What do you think I should do?"
Before he can even think of
"I don't know what to do," he says, muffled into his hair, a bit of his usual petulance coming into his voice. He's solid in Ranpo's arms, not heavy enough to be a burden but weighty enough to feel him. "What do you think I should do?"
Before he can even think of
anything to say, let alone actually open his mouth to /say/ it, Shuuji is pinching the skin of his upper arm.
"None of that 'it's up to you and what you want' bullshit. I want to know what you think. I know you have opinions."
Well, if he /wants/ his opinions. "I don't think
"None of that 'it's up to you and what you want' bullshit. I want to know what you think. I know you have opinions."
Well, if he /wants/ his opinions. "I don't think
you should forgive him. Not yet, anyway. hat whole thing with the apology and the wanting to try again is nice and all-- but it doesn't /mean/ anything if he doesn't actually do what he says. Make him work for it. Make him earn his forgiveness, and the chance to be better."
He can tell that strikes Shuuji by the way he goes silent and contemplative. He drapes his arms over his shoulders and props his chin on top of Ranpo's head as he thinks, and /normally/, he might be irritated at his face being shoved into someone else's chest without even being
asked first but--
It's kind of nice. Shuuji is taller than him, but Ranpo is stronger, so it's easy just to let the taller man drape himself all over him like a particularly affectionate and limp towel.
Eventually, Shuuji lets out a dramatic, heaving sigh, and Ranpo is already
It's kind of nice. Shuuji is taller than him, but Ranpo is stronger, so it's easy just to let the taller man drape himself all over him like a particularly affectionate and limp towel.
Eventually, Shuuji lets out a dramatic, heaving sigh, and Ranpo is already
biting back a smile at hearing him return to his usual melodramatic self. "He also said I needed to apologize to Chuuya."
Ranpo tightens his arms around his waist, dragging him closer. "Yeah, that's probably a good place to start."
"Ugh."
--- +
Ranpo tightens his arms around his waist, dragging him closer. "Yeah, that's probably a good place to start."
"Ugh."
--- +
The next two years of Chuuya's life are undoubtedly the best years of his life. Perhaps it's a little cliché, but he really does believe that adulthood agrees with him and life really is better when you are able to make decisions for yourself. It's not always /easier/-- but life
can't be perfect.
But it can be really, /really/ good.
Naturally, there are struggles. During his recovery from his encephalitis and all kidnapping-related trauma, he had somehow deluded himself into remembering that college was /way/ easier than it actually was.When he finally
But it can be really, /really/ good.
Naturally, there are struggles. During his recovery from his encephalitis and all kidnapping-related trauma, he had somehow deluded himself into remembering that college was /way/ easier than it actually was.When he finally
ends up going back, an entire year after he was forced to drop out, he ends up enrolling in six classes and quickly finds himself overwhelmed. It's /hard/ juggling four advanced classes and two electives-- that he took with the intention of enjoying as hobbies, but he realized
too late that art and creative writing class are still /classes/-- that all have their own homework, projects, tests, study sessions, extra credit opportunities.
Granted, his living situation is a lot less stressful than before--he no longer needs to worry about where he's
Granted, his living situation is a lot less stressful than before--he no longer needs to worry about where he's
going to live if he fails a class-- but he's still relying on scholarships to pay for most of his schooling.
In the end, he ends up lasting about two weeks before he realizes he's overworking himself and ends up dropping two of the classes for the semester.
The Chuuya of two
In the end, he ends up lasting about two weeks before he realizes he's overworking himself and ends up dropping two of the classes for the semester.
The Chuuya of two
years ago would have never considered dropping classes. He would've kept pushing,stubbornly insistent that he /could/ handle it if he just handled his time correctly and tried harder. He would've worked himself into the ground and felt only frustration when he started to burn out
and struggle.
The Chuuya of today feels no guilt at dropping two classes he couldn't handle, and feels better due to the fact that he now gets to go to bed with his boyfriend at a reasonable time every day.
He's also picked up quite a few hobbies. At first it was just about
The Chuuya of today feels no guilt at dropping two classes he couldn't handle, and feels better due to the fact that he now gets to go to bed with his boyfriend at a reasonable time every day.
He's also picked up quite a few hobbies. At first it was just about
finding something to do to fill up all his free time, but he had a lot of fun trying out new things. Some of them are dropped nearly as quickly as he tries them--he really does not have the patience for things like knitting, but Dazai seems to like it. He's made one multi-colored
scarf that he's gifted to Chuuya, and he loves it, even though it is quite possibly the lumpiest and ugliest thing he has ever seen in his life.
But things like writing and photography, he really enjoys. He has an instagram for his photos now, and it's not popular, but he enjoys
But things like writing and photography, he really enjoys. He has an instagram for his photos now, and it's not popular, but he enjoys
making the posts and reading his family's comments on it. His writing is still rudimentary and developing,but he plans on participating in a poetry slam at a local cafe in a few months.
Art, he's not as good at, but that's okay. It's taken him a very long time, but he's realized
Art, he's not as good at, but that's okay. It's taken him a very long time, but he's realized
that he doesn't need to be /amazing/ at everything. He can have hobbies, things he's only moderately good at and enjoys anyways, and that is okay. Wanting to do them is all that matters. He might never be described as one of the great artists, but Dazai puts his messy sketches of
birds and pets and trees on a special place on his desk, and he writes shitty poetry for him using fridge magnets and it's good and he loves it.
He's happy. That's what matters.
Dazai's happy too, in a way that is visible and obvious. When they met, he was dark and broody and
He's happy. That's what matters.
Dazai's happy too, in a way that is visible and obvious. When they met, he was dark and broody and
wilting with consistent sleep deprivation. He was secretive, and hidden, and scared. He never truly relaxed.
Now he's soft. He's gained weight, and he approaches all of Chuuya's culinary experimentations with eagerness, and he rarely skips a meal. Breakfast in bed is a common
Now he's soft. He's gained weight, and he approaches all of Chuuya's culinary experimentations with eagerness, and he rarely skips a meal. Breakfast in bed is a common
occurrence, because he's still a naturally early riser, but he is easily convinced to take naps on the couch with Chuuya. He spends more time with the pets, and has started knitting adorably hideous sweaters for Baki.
The cat hates them.
Now that Dazai is on semi-good terms
The cat hates them.
Now that Dazai is on semi-good terms
with his family, a lot of tension has been dissolved. Kouyou is still stubbornly antagonistic, but she also has let Dazai assimilate back into the Mafia as part of the information ring.
It's understood that Dazai doesn't /want/ to lead the Mafia anymore. He just wants to be
It's understood that Dazai doesn't /want/ to lead the Mafia anymore. He just wants to be
at home with Chuuya. Honestly, if Dazai had his way and he wasn’t plagued by the unfortunate inability to handle boredom, Dazai would probably love to be a house boyfriend.
Chuuya isn’t… /happy/ about the Mafia thing, for many reasons. He still struggles with the fact that his
Chuuya isn’t… /happy/ about the Mafia thing, for many reasons. He still struggles with the fact that his
sister had been in the mafia since they were both kids, has been the head of it for years and lied to him about it the entire time. In fact, if he hadn’t met Dazai and fell in love with him, he probably would’ve never found out. Kouyou didn’t /intend/ to tell him.
Which also
Which also
means that /Oda/, whom Chuuya has /met/ is not just the guy that came to his violin recital when he was sixteen. He’s also a secret lethal bodyguard, which is nice, because that means his sister is protected but it also means that Chuuya once threw an Oreo at the head of a man
who has actually and literally killed like…a lot of people.
It’s a lot to get used to.
But he’s working on it. Yosano gave him the phone number of a therapist that works exclusively with the Mafia, and he’s had two appointments so far. He’s not sure if he’s getting what he
It’s a lot to get used to.
But he’s working on it. Yosano gave him the phone number of a therapist that works exclusively with the Mafia, and he’s had two appointments so far. He’s not sure if he’s getting what he
needs out of it— or even /what/ he needs— but it’s nice to have someone to vent to about all the things that have changed in his life.
He’s been trying to get Dazai to go too, but the man is incredibly stubborn. Says he doesn’t need therapy, because he already knows all his
He’s been trying to get Dazai to go too, but the man is incredibly stubborn. Says he doesn’t need therapy, because he already knows all his
issues and how to handle them.
Chuuya disagrees heavily, what with the occasional screaming nightmares and the semi-frequent mood swings which most often feature a seething anger and soul-sucking depression that Dazai experiences, but he's working on it. He can't say that Dazai
Chuuya disagrees heavily, what with the occasional screaming nightmares and the semi-frequent mood swings which most often feature a seething anger and soul-sucking depression that Dazai experiences, but he's working on it. He can't say that Dazai
hasn't improved--because he has-- but he could be better.
There are a lot of things that having a safe home, a loving relationship and a sense of stability will do for mental health, but it's not everything. There's a lot of things in Dazai's past that Chuuya can't kiss better,
There are a lot of things that having a safe home, a loving relationship and a sense of stability will do for mental health, but it's not everything. There's a lot of things in Dazai's past that Chuuya can't kiss better,
a lot of nightmares that can't be soothed away by curling up with him and letting Dazai hug him like he's his personal squeeze toy.
Even now, there's still a lot of things Dazai won't willingly speak with him about. He will answer if asked direct questions, but he will almost
Even now, there's still a lot of things Dazai won't willingly speak with him about. He will answer if asked direct questions, but he will almost
never volunteer information himself. He's quiet, but not secretive.
And Chuuya has learned to be okay with that. Maybe he'll never know every part of Dazai's past. That doesn't mean Dazai doesn't love him. It doesn't mean he doesn't trust him.
It just means some things are hard
And Chuuya has learned to be okay with that. Maybe he'll never know every part of Dazai's past. That doesn't mean Dazai doesn't love him. It doesn't mean he doesn't trust him.
It just means some things are hard
to talk about, and that's okay. Chuuya has learned the value of patience,and not trusting Dazai.
He's also learned his lesson about trusting /other/ people too much.Nikolai has seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth after he knocked Chuuya out to kidnap him. Admittedly,
He's also learned his lesson about trusting /other/ people too much.Nikolai has seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth after he knocked Chuuya out to kidnap him. Admittedly,
it's not like he's /looking/ for him, and it's not like he really wants to see him, either, it's just--
He thought they were friends. They had been /roommates/, whether by accident or plot on Nikolai's part, and they had been friends for half a year. Chuuya had defended Nikolai
He thought they were friends. They had been /roommates/, whether by accident or plot on Nikolai's part, and they had been friends for half a year. Chuuya had defended Nikolai
whenever the need arose and he always invited Chuuya to hang out. Chuuya had helped him with his math homework, and whenever he was studying for his own classes, there had always been an energy drink that mysteriously appeared on his desk.
They had been friends. At least, he
They had been friends. At least, he
had /thought/ they were friends, but maybe that was all just a lie. Maybe it'd all been a game of pretend.
As much as he doesn't want to see Nikolai and he'd sure as hell never trust him again-- a part of him wants to ask. Wants to know if it was all fake, all an act that had
As much as he doesn't want to see Nikolai and he'd sure as hell never trust him again-- a part of him wants to ask. Wants to know if it was all fake, all an act that had
him looking like an idiot, or if-- like a lot of things in his life-- it had been an unfortunate coincidence.
But he never gets that opportunity. He never gets an explanation and he's not sure how he feels about that. Angry, maybe.
At least he still manages to be friends with
But he never gets that opportunity. He never gets an explanation and he's not sure how he feels about that. Angry, maybe.
At least he still manages to be friends with
Yuan. /She's/ completely normal-- he had Dazai check, just to be sure, because he was paranoid after being kidnapped-- although she has confided in him that she's been a sugar baby for longer than he's known her.
Somehow, that's not that surprising.
On the other hand, his
Somehow, that's not that surprising.
On the other hand, his
relationship with Shuuji has gotten objectively hilarious. To be honest, he wasn't holding onto anger about the whole attempted car manslaughter thing because Chuuya definitely came out as the winner in the situation. Yeah, it sucked,but he got a rich, loving boyfriend out of it,
a huge house, pets, a more honest relationship with his family-- while Shuuji got himself kicked out, and then shacked up with a detective who might honestly be one of the most annoying people Chuuya has ever met.
It's hard to be mad when you're winning so /hard/ in comparison.
It's hard to be mad when you're winning so /hard/ in comparison.
Still, he did appreciate the apology, and as thanks, he keeps the stepdad jokes to a minimum. He saves them up for the monthly dinners they have together.
So--
All in all, life is good. Wonderful. Not anything he had envisioned as a kid when he was making dreams of his future,
So--
All in all, life is good. Wonderful. Not anything he had envisioned as a kid when he was making dreams of his future,
and definitely not perfect and sometimes it's been hard and painful and dreadful-- but it's good, now. And it feels like it's going to be good for a very long time.
Every day he wakes up and looks forward to the day he's going to have.
Dazai pops his head into the bedroom,
Every day he wakes up and looks forward to the day he's going to have.
Dazai pops his head into the bedroom,
interrupting his thoughts. He's dressed up, his eyes outlined with a smear of red eyeliner that Chuuya helped him apply. "You ready?"
They're going to Oda's house for dinner tonight, a relatively new tradition that has developed ever since they all realized that the only time
They're going to Oda's house for dinner tonight, a relatively new tradition that has developed ever since they all realized that the only time
they were actually going to see each other is if they started /making/ time to see each other.
One thing they don't tell you about adulthood is how hard it is to make and /keep/ friends when everyone is busy with their own lives.
So, monthly dinner at Oda's house. It means
One thing they don't tell you about adulthood is how hard it is to make and /keep/ friends when everyone is busy with their own lives.
So, monthly dinner at Oda's house. It means
that Chuuya gets to see his sister, and Dazai gets to see his friend while also continuing to coax Kouyou into liking him-- or at least approving of him.
He's oddly determined that /every/ person in Chuuya's family like him, and he won't ever tell Chuuya why. Whenever he asks,
He's oddly determined that /every/ person in Chuuya's family like him, and he won't ever tell Chuuya why. Whenever he asks,
he gets this twinkle in his eyes and says it's a secret that Chuuya will find out someday.
"Almost," he responds, checking himself out in the mirror one last time. Because he helped Dazai with his makeup, he missed out on half an hour of extremely vital outfit consideration.
"Almost," he responds, checking himself out in the mirror one last time. Because he helped Dazai with his makeup, he missed out on half an hour of extremely vital outfit consideration.
He's gotten into /layering/ things lately, which comes with the territory of having to take quite a few pieces off if he doesn't like the way it looks.
After making sure the chains hooked to his beltloops are artfully dangling over his right thigh and his ass, he decides it's
After making sure the chains hooked to his beltloops are artfully dangling over his right thigh and his ass, he decides it's
good enough. If he had more time, he might've changed his shirt again but they're about to be late as it is anyways.
It's almost an hour drive to Oda's house, and they're supposed to be there in an hour. If they're late, Kouyou will hound him about it for /weeks/.
The pets all
It's almost an hour drive to Oda's house, and they're supposed to be there in an hour. If they're late, Kouyou will hound him about it for /weeks/.
The pets all
say goodbye in their own little ways. Baki claws at the laces of his boots until Chuuya has to bend down to gently extract his claws. Yoko gets extra belly rubs, since she's gained a bit of anxiety about Chuuya leaving the house now. Kozo gets an extra treat and his favorite toy.
By the time he's done saying goodbye to the pets, Dazai is leaning against the passenger side of the car waiting for him.
He smiles when he sees him coming, more of a softening of his eyes and expression than a true movement of his mouth. He's dressed casually, in a pair of
He smiles when he sees him coming, more of a softening of his eyes and expression than a true movement of his mouth. He's dressed casually, in a pair of
ripped jeans and a t-shirt from a band that Chuuya had introduced him to. The boots he's wearing are the same ones that are on Chuuya's feet, just older and without the chain that Chuuya had attached to his.
As it has for every day of the past two years, warmth fills his chest
As it has for every day of the past two years, warmth fills his chest
at the sight of him. It no longer feels new or exciting, or like Chuuya might die if he doesn't look at Dazai or if Dazai isn't looking at him. It's aged and settled now, sweeter for it, like wine. It's a steady delight of knowing he gets to come home to this every day, the
tenderness of getting to see Dazai in all his forms, whether that be just out of sleep early in the mornings, or playing games with the dogs, acting like he hates it whenever Baki uses his chest as a pillow even though he never dares to wake the cat up, or excitement when
something that he's been looking forward to happens.
It's knowing and being known, down to the changing core of him. It's loving and being loved in return, and always having a home to return to.
"Hello, handsome," he greets, stepping up to him so he can look up at him. Dazai
It's knowing and being known, down to the changing core of him. It's loving and being loved in return, and always having a home to return to.
"Hello, handsome," he greets, stepping up to him so he can look up at him. Dazai
automatically widens his stance to make room for him, reaching out to thread his fingers through his belt loops to pull him closer.
"Hi, sweetheart," is his breathed response, slow and sweet. Knowing Chuuya won't move, he brings his hands back up. His fingers brush over his jaw,
"Hi, sweetheart," is his breathed response, slow and sweet. Knowing Chuuya won't move, he brings his hands back up. His fingers brush over his jaw,
coaxing his chin upward and tilting his head back.
The position, so reminiscent of their very first kiss, makes Chuuya buzz with love and nostalgia. Unconsciously, he smiles, and feels on top of the world when Dazai automatically mirrors him.
Unlike their first kiss, however,
The position, so reminiscent of their very first kiss, makes Chuuya buzz with love and nostalgia. Unconsciously, he smiles, and feels on top of the world when Dazai automatically mirrors him.
Unlike their first kiss, however,
Dazai doesn't feel the need to ask permission. He already knows he has it. He just leans down and kisses him, like he has hundreds of times before and like he will thousands of times after this.
They don't have time to get carried away, but Chuuya leans up into him anyways,
They don't have time to get carried away, but Chuuya leans up into him anyways,
making sure to pour all the love and affection he feels into the kiss.
They might not always be great with words, and talking might always be a struggle-- but this, they're great at. Chuuya never has to worry about anything else when he can taste Dazai's smile. When they're
They might not always be great with words, and talking might always be a struggle-- but this, they're great at. Chuuya never has to worry about anything else when he can taste Dazai's smile. When they're
like this, pressed together, love and commitment in every line of their bodies, time feels endlessly easy.
Chuuya breaks the kiss first, because Dazai would happily stand here and kiss him for hours if he let him. Not that he ever opposes to that,or that he doesn't /want/ that--
Chuuya breaks the kiss first, because Dazai would happily stand here and kiss him for hours if he let him. Not that he ever opposes to that,or that he doesn't /want/ that--
But they're about to be late, and he's been looking forward to this dinner for weeks now.
With a pout and a sigh that brings to mind the highest of injustices, Dazai lets him go and opens the door for him to climb inside.
While he crosses around the front of the car, Chuuya
With a pout and a sigh that brings to mind the highest of injustices, Dazai lets him go and opens the door for him to climb inside.
While he crosses around the front of the car, Chuuya
connects his phone to the bluetooth in the car and starts scrolling through his music playlists. As the passenger--he /does/ know how to drive now, but he prefers to be driven-- he is also the designated DJ. It's a role he's thrown himself into with abandon, making a playlist for
every occasion and mood.
With both of them singing along to the music he's chosen, the near-hour drive seems to fly by.
The house they pull up to is not Kouyou or Oda's /true/ house. It's one of their safehouses, one of their most secure ones tucked away near the outskirts of
With both of them singing along to the music he's chosen, the near-hour drive seems to fly by.
The house they pull up to is not Kouyou or Oda's /true/ house. It's one of their safehouses, one of their most secure ones tucked away near the outskirts of
the city. It's a drive for everyone, and Kouyou and Oda usually spend most of their nights holed up in one of the safehouses closer to mafia headquarters, but this house comes with the added benefit of a small backyard.
Which is absolutely necessary, because when Oda opens the
Which is absolutely necessary, because when Oda opens the
door to let them in, there are at least four little gremlin children poking their heads around his legs to peer out at Chuuya curiously.
That was /another/ shock he had to get used to: the fact that his sister is the guardian-slash-aunt-figure-slash-older-sister to an entire
That was /another/ shock he had to get used to: the fact that his sister is the guardian-slash-aunt-figure-slash-older-sister to an entire
horde of children. She herself doesn’t really want children of her own, and she reportedly would rather die than get pregnant— but she loves Oda enough to support him in his little endeavor to pseudo-adopt every orphan that so much as gives him a pitiful look.
It’s not entirely
It’s not entirely
legal or above ground, but Chuuya’s not really sure of the logistics of it, nor does he really care.
Truthfully, he’s just upset that he missed out on years of being a pseudo-uncle. He /loves/ kids.
Right on cue, one of the littler ones—Kousuke, a young boy who only started
Truthfully, he’s just upset that he missed out on years of being a pseudo-uncle. He /loves/ kids.
Right on cue, one of the littler ones—Kousuke, a young boy who only started
primary school this year— shouts “CHUUYA!” at the top of his lungs and immediately throws himself into his arms.
If it weren’t for the way he automatically braced himself for impact and Dazai’s hand on his back, he might’ve fallen. As it is, he nearly goes staggering anyways,
If it weren’t for the way he automatically braced himself for impact and Dazai’s hand on his back, he might’ve fallen. As it is, he nearly goes staggering anyways,
and barely catches the boy without letting him fall.
"Hey guys," Oda greets, ushering everyone out of the doorway so that the two of them can step inside. The door gets soundly locked behind them, blocking out the view of the rest of the neighborhood.
Chuuya's never met their
"Hey guys," Oda greets, ushering everyone out of the doorway so that the two of them can step inside. The door gets soundly locked behind them, blocking out the view of the rest of the neighborhood.
Chuuya's never met their
neighbors-- he's not even sure if they /have/ actual neighbors, or if it's just a port mafia guard rotation that occasionally stays in the nearby houses to make them look lived in-- and it seems like today is not going to be that day either.
"Is that the short stack?" Comes a
"Is that the short stack?" Comes a
voice from one of the back rooms, tone dipped in glee because Yosano /knows/ how much Chuuya hates those kinds of nicknames. Which is exactly why she does it; says she hasn't gotten in enough little-brother-bullying, and she's making up for it now.
Kousuke, having given Chuuya a
Kousuke, having given Chuuya a
completely incoherent and rapid-fire rundown on the last month of his schooling, reaches out for Dazai next. Chuuya might be his favorite because of 'how cool he is', but Dazai's a close second because of how /tall/ he is. Few things make Kousuke happier than riding on Dazai's
shoulders and shrieking about how tall he is.
It makes Chuuya's heart melt to see how naturally he reaches for the kid, making dramatic sounds about how heavy he's gotten lately,all while easily swinging him up to drape him over his shoulder.
When they first started coming over
It makes Chuuya's heart melt to see how naturally he reaches for the kid, making dramatic sounds about how heavy he's gotten lately,all while easily swinging him up to drape him over his shoulder.
When they first started coming over
for dinners, Dazai was so awkward with the children. Always kept his distance, like he was afraid to touch for how fragile they were, and answered all of their questions with endearing adult-like seriousness. Whenever he was invited to play, he declined most of the time and
when he did finally agree, he always sent looks over to Oda and Chuuya like he wasn't sure if he was playing correctly.
It wasn't that he was /bad/ with kids, it was just blindingly obvious that he hadn't had the opportunity to be around them often. From what Chuuya knows, he
It wasn't that he was /bad/ with kids, it was just blindingly obvious that he hadn't had the opportunity to be around them often. From what Chuuya knows, he
didn't have many chances to see Shuuji when he was a child. He was still only a young, depressed and traumatized man himself,and Sasaki had never made fatherhood easy for him.
God knows Dazai hadn't the opportunity to be a child /himself/.
So watching Dazai slowly overcome his
God knows Dazai hadn't the opportunity to be a child /himself/.
So watching Dazai slowly overcome his
hesitancy and gain his confidence in how to handle children has been a heartwarming experience. Seeing him go from unsure touches to realizing he can securely manhandle Kousuke and making threats of dropping him -- even though everyone knows he wouldn't-- makes a part of Chuuya
feel squirmy and hot.
He can't help it; Dazai looks so /good/ with a kid in his arms.
After giving Oda a quick hello hug, Chuuya leaves Dazai and him to catch up as he heads into the kitchen. Kouyou can almost always be found in here before dinner, steadily sipping on wine as
He can't help it; Dazai looks so /good/ with a kid in his arms.
After giving Oda a quick hello hug, Chuuya leaves Dazai and him to catch up as he heads into the kitchen. Kouyou can almost always be found in here before dinner, steadily sipping on wine as
she dedicatedly taste-tests everything that Oda cooks. There's always another glass waiting for him.
This time, Yosano is perched on the counter as well, the heel of one slippered foot bumping rhythmically against the cabinets below her. She grins at Chuuya when she sees him,
This time, Yosano is perched on the counter as well, the heel of one slippered foot bumping rhythmically against the cabinets below her. She grins at Chuuya when she sees him,
raising her whiskey glass in toast to him.
It’s not terribly often that she joins them for dinner. Even now, Chuuya doesn’t know the exact status of her relationship with Kouyou and Oda— she seems to be committed to them sometimes, and other times she’ll disappear for weeks or
It’s not terribly often that she joins them for dinner. Even now, Chuuya doesn’t know the exact status of her relationship with Kouyou and Oda— she seems to be committed to them sometimes, and other times she’ll disappear for weeks or
even months at a time, and comes back with stories about the flings she had and the people she’s met.
There’s only ever one recurring thing— Kouyou and Oda are the only ones she’ll come back for. The only ones she loves, even if it’s not understood by anyone else.
Seeing her
There’s only ever one recurring thing— Kouyou and Oda are the only ones she’ll come back for. The only ones she loves, even if it’s not understood by anyone else.
Seeing her
today is a unexpected surprise. A good one, because Chuuya likes her.
“What’s up, emo kid?” He teases back, nudging her companionably with his hip as he walks by to pour himself a glass of wine.
With a mock-offended gasp, Yosano presses her hand to her chest. Like most of her
“What’s up, emo kid?” He teases back, nudging her companionably with his hip as he walks by to pour himself a glass of wine.
With a mock-offended gasp, Yosano presses her hand to her chest. Like most of her
outfit— a more masculine vibe today with ripped black jeans, a t-shirt with holes artfully cut into it that show off the sports bra she’s wearing underneath and steel toe boots— her nails are black and stiletto-sharp. The silver rings on her fingers might be the only source of
color on her today. “Babe! Your mini-me is being mean to me! Make him stop.”
Leaning against the counter, Kouyou rolls her eyes and very deliberately takes a sip of her wine without answering.
Chuuya wrinkles his nose at Yosano. “She likes me better than you, she’s on my side.”
Leaning against the counter, Kouyou rolls her eyes and very deliberately takes a sip of her wine without answering.
Chuuya wrinkles his nose at Yosano. “She likes me better than you, she’s on my side.”
There's a pause, and then Kouyou makes a long, drawn-out humming sound which expresses so much doubt that Chuuya is automatically reaching out to smack her on the arm lightly.
Yosano laughs, and very kindly doesn't offer her opinion on that statement. "How you been, kid?" She
Yosano laughs, and very kindly doesn't offer her opinion on that statement. "How you been, kid?" She
asks instead.
He has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the reminder of his age. She delights in holding that over him, even though he's been dating someone /her/ age for a little over two years now. "Good," he says, "Finals are coming up for me soon, so I'll be glad to get
He has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the reminder of his age. She delights in holding that over him, even though he's been dating someone /her/ age for a little over two years now. "Good," he says, "Finals are coming up for me soon, so I'll be glad to get
that over with. Dazai says he wants to take me somewhere afterwards, to celebrate."
Yosano leans forward, eyes sparkling. She's wearing red contacts today, and although it looks good, the effect of being stared at is slightly unnerving. "Oh really? Has he asked you anything else
Yosano leans forward, eyes sparkling. She's wearing red contacts today, and although it looks good, the effect of being stared at is slightly unnerving. "Oh really? Has he asked you anything else
lately?"
Kouyou throws her a sharp look.
"Uh," Chuuya pauses, thinking. "No?"
Yosano heaves a deep,dramatic sigh, shaking her head and clucking in exasperation. She mumbles something under her breath that sounds disapproving, before she takes a sip of her drink.
Before Chuuya
Kouyou throws her a sharp look.
"Uh," Chuuya pauses, thinking. "No?"
Yosano heaves a deep,dramatic sigh, shaking her head and clucking in exasperation. She mumbles something under her breath that sounds disapproving, before she takes a sip of her drink.
Before Chuuya
can ask what /that's/ about, Kouyou is changing the subject with a pointed cough. "Dad mentioned that you were thinking of doing a poetry reading for your writing."
Chuuya groans, embarrassed. He talked to his dad in /confidence/ about that because he wanted his opinion, not
Chuuya groans, embarrassed. He talked to his dad in /confidence/ about that because he wanted his opinion, not
because he wanted him to blab to his /sister/. Now she's going to want to /read/ his stuff, or something equally embarrassing.
"He is," Dazai confirms, taking that moment to walk in. Kousuke is attached to his leg now, sitting on Dazai's foot and giggling whenever he lifts him
"He is," Dazai confirms, taking that moment to walk in. Kousuke is attached to his leg now, sitting on Dazai's foot and giggling whenever he lifts him
up by taking a step. He comes closer,just enough to drop a kiss on top of Chuuya's head. "He's very good."
Chuuya wrinkles his nose and fights the urge to squirm, feeling pleased and mortified in equal parts.
"I didn't know you were coming today," Dazai says to Yosano, lifting
Chuuya wrinkles his nose and fights the urge to squirm, feeling pleased and mortified in equal parts.
"I didn't know you were coming today," Dazai says to Yosano, lifting
an eyebrow in question.
Yosano shrugs, refilling her glass. She pours far too much whiskey than is accepted for a dinner, but she has a remarkable tolerance. Over the last two years, Chuuya has seen her drink Dazai under the table at least two different times, a feat that he
Yosano shrugs, refilling her glass. She pours far too much whiskey than is accepted for a dinner, but she has a remarkable tolerance. Over the last two years, Chuuya has seen her drink Dazai under the table at least two different times, a feat that he
personally finds impossible. She could probably drink half of the bottle, and still be mostly coherent. "A new kid was dropped off a couple of weeks ago, so I figured I'd stick around and help out if I could."
Chuuya's eyebrows shoot up. /Another/ kid? Doesn't that bring the
Chuuya's eyebrows shoot up. /Another/ kid? Doesn't that bring the
orphan count up to like, seven or something? "Another one?"
Kouyou sighs, swirling her wine around in her glass. She doesn't look /sad/, per se, but she does look very tired now that Chuuya is looking. The bags under her eyes are heavy, tinted purple. "Yeah. A baby, this time."
Kouyou sighs, swirling her wine around in her glass. She doesn't look /sad/, per se, but she does look very tired now that Chuuya is looking. The bags under her eyes are heavy, tinted purple. "Yeah. A baby, this time."
Chuuya's jaw drops. He thought the whole idea of babies being dropped off on doorsteps was a thing that only happened in movies, not in real life. "Someone dropped off a /baby/? What kind of person does that?"
Sensing that the conversation is rapidly turning to something not
Sensing that the conversation is rapidly turning to something not
suited for children's ears, Dazai takes a toy off the nearby counter and ushers Kousuke out of the room. Oda still hasn't come into the kitchen; he must be getting all the kids washed up and ready to eat.
With a rueful twist to her mouth, Kouyou tips her head. She finishes off
With a rueful twist to her mouth, Kouyou tips her head. She finishes off
her wine with one long swallow, placing the glass by her side. She doesn't move to refill it. "Extenuating circumstances," she says, like that's any kind of explanation at all.
Without saying anything, Yosano hops down from the counter and crosses to the open bottle of wine.
Without saying anything, Yosano hops down from the counter and crosses to the open bottle of wine.
Grabbing Kouyou's empty glass, she refills her drink elegantly, and hands the newly full cup to her.
The exchange is quiet, but there's a soft, unspoken sort of care in the easy nonchalance of it, in the affectionate brush of their fingers together over the stem. Kouyou smiles
The exchange is quiet, but there's a soft, unspoken sort of care in the easy nonchalance of it, in the affectionate brush of their fingers together over the stem. Kouyou smiles
at her in thanks, face softening.
"Still...I can't believe someone would just give up their baby like that," Chuuya mumbles, feeling torn. He's not heartless, he knows there are a lot of reasons why a mother might not want their child, many of which are probably extremely
"Still...I can't believe someone would just give up their baby like that," Chuuya mumbles, feeling torn. He's not heartless, he knows there are a lot of reasons why a mother might not want their child, many of which are probably extremely
** WARNING!!! this next scene will deal with discussions of implied child abuse/neglect, the repercussions, and family drama. No TW'S are needed, but it might be upsetting to some. I will include a summary afterward**
personal. Taking care of a child is a heavy responsibility,
personal. Taking care of a child is a heavy responsibility,
and not one everyone can or should undertake. He knows that.
But he's also squirming with anger and frustration and sympathy at a baby being /given up/. Sure, they're in a good place now-- Oda has proven himself to be a kind and capable caregiver, even as strange as that might
But he's also squirming with anger and frustration and sympathy at a baby being /given up/. Sure, they're in a good place now-- Oda has proven himself to be a kind and capable caregiver, even as strange as that might
seem, given his occupation and past-- but still. There was a point in that baby's life where it was unwanted, and the thought of that hurts Chuuya more than he expected it would.
He's angry that someone, anyone, could be so unwanted like that. That the baby will have to grow up
He's angry that someone, anyone, could be so unwanted like that. That the baby will have to grow up
knowing that their mother didn't want or love them enough to stay.
Dazai's hand comes down on his shoulder, squeezing gently in comfort. He knows Chuuya's complicated childhood, and the way he still aches to have a mother, sometimes.
"It's not her kid," Yosano pipes up, leaning
Dazai's hand comes down on his shoulder, squeezing gently in comfort. He knows Chuuya's complicated childhood, and the way he still aches to have a mother, sometimes.
"It's not her kid," Yosano pipes up, leaning
against Kouyou's side. "It was her sisters."
That makes Chuuya pause, confused. Does that mean that the sister--the mother-- is no longer...in the picture? That changes things, but now he's thinking how heartless it would be to give up the child, maybe the last living legacy, of
That makes Chuuya pause, confused. Does that mean that the sister--the mother-- is no longer...in the picture? That changes things, but now he's thinking how heartless it would be to give up the child, maybe the last living legacy, of
a sibling that had died.
If Kouyou-- and this hurts to even think about, a wrongness that makes Chuuya flinch--died, he would clutch everything she left behind close to his chest, and never let it go. He would never give anything up, not her frankly ridiculous amount of orphans,
If Kouyou-- and this hurts to even think about, a wrongness that makes Chuuya flinch--died, he would clutch everything she left behind close to his chest, and never let it go. He would never give anything up, not her frankly ridiculous amount of orphans,
not that terrifying red-and-white snake she keeps in her office and handles like it's something soft and fragile instead of something that looks like it could kill Chuuya in one bite, not even her car or her journals.
How could anyone give anything like that up?
"I knew her,"
How could anyone give anything like that up?
"I knew her,"
Kouyou sighs, tone somewhere between sympathetic and sad. "It wasn't an easy decision. This is the fifth kid her sister had. The first four were taken by child protective services due to neglect and unsafe housing. The grandmother was able to take the four, but it hasn't been
( TW for mention of recreational drug use during pregnancy)
easy for any of them. And she didn't know her sister was pregnant until she was about to give birth, so she didn't know to make sure she wasn't doing drugs."
Oh.Oh my god. Chuuya shifts, horror bubbling up inside him.
easy for any of them. And she didn't know her sister was pregnant until she was about to give birth, so she didn't know to make sure she wasn't doing drugs."
Oh.Oh my god. Chuuya shifts, horror bubbling up inside him.
"Is the baby okay?"
He doesn't know much about the effect of drugs on fetal development, but it's common knowledge that expecting mothers aren't supposed to be consuming any kind of drug not approved by a doctor. They're not even supposed to drink /caffeine/, which is so
He doesn't know much about the effect of drugs on fetal development, but it's common knowledge that expecting mothers aren't supposed to be consuming any kind of drug not approved by a doctor. They're not even supposed to drink /caffeine/, which is so
common in society that most people don't even know it's a drug, and even things as small as /soda/ have caffeine in them. He knows that steering clear of drugs is a serious point for expecting mothers, and he can make the assumption that the effects of not doing so could be
serious.
"Oh, yeah," Yosano pipes up, wandering over to the pot of rice sitting on the stove. Taking a spoon out of the utensils drawer, she steals a spoonful and adds a drop of soy sauce before eating it. "She's small, but as of now, she's perfectly healthy and happy. The
"Oh, yeah," Yosano pipes up, wandering over to the pot of rice sitting on the stove. Taking a spoon out of the utensils drawer, she steals a spoonful and adds a drop of soy sauce before eating it. "She's small, but as of now, she's perfectly healthy and happy. The
amphetamines in her system might lead to some developmental disorders, and there's some things we'll need to keep an eye on, but for now, she's just a happy and hungry baby."
Before Chuuya can figure out why he feels so angry about the entire situation, Oda is bustling into the
Before Chuuya can figure out why he feels so angry about the entire situation, Oda is bustling into the
kitchen with a small herd of children trailing after him, all of them excited and hungry, and just like that, the conversation is derailed for the rest of the night.
But Chuuya can't stop thinking about it. He keeps circling back to the same thoughts, turning the situation over
But Chuuya can't stop thinking about it. He keeps circling back to the same thoughts, turning the situation over
and over again in his head like it might make more sense if he just looks at it a different way, making himself sad and angry by turns.
He just-- he doesn't understand /why/ something like this would happen. How a tiny, innocent baby ended up in a situation like this, how this
He just-- he doesn't understand /why/ something like this would happen. How a tiny, innocent baby ended up in a situation like this, how this
could happen to anyone, how could anyone treat a baby with anything other than love and adoration.
It's enough that Dazai notices his mood. He doesn't say anything during dinner, cheerfully talking over him whenever Chuuya lapses into confused and frustrated silence. But when
It's enough that Dazai notices his mood. He doesn't say anything during dinner, cheerfully talking over him whenever Chuuya lapses into confused and frustrated silence. But when
they get home, he catches him by the elbow before he can disappear into the house.
He spins him around easily, his other hand coming up to rest comfortingly on his shoulder, thumb pressed to his pulse point. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Frustrated with himself, Chuuya lets
He spins him around easily, his other hand coming up to rest comfortingly on his shoulder, thumb pressed to his pulse point. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Frustrated with himself, Chuuya lets
his head drop until his forehead is solidly thunking against Dazai's chest. "I don't know why I'm upset about it," he grumbles, "I mean, it's upsetting, but it feels so...personal, for some reason."
"Hmm," Dazai hums,and Chuuya already knows he's about to say something perfectly
"Hmm," Dazai hums,and Chuuya already knows he's about to say something perfectly
reasonable and intelligent and he's going to want to bite him about it. "A newborn baby just lost her mother before she ever knew her, and likely won't ever get to know her. I wonder why you're upset."
Yep, he definitely wants to bite him about it. "It's not the same."
"It's
Yep, he definitely wants to bite him about it. "It's not the same."
"It's
not," he agrees, guiding him over to the couch. He barely lets him take his shoes off before making him sit down, curled up in his lap. "But it can still be personal, and it can still hurt."
Baki, ever the opportunist, quickly jumps up on the couch and welcomes them both home by
Baki, ever the opportunist, quickly jumps up on the couch and welcomes them both home by
quickly settling directly on Chuuya’s thigh and giving a huff like he’s been waiting around for them all day. Like /they’re/ the ones being unreasonable here.
Taking some time to work through his thoughts, Chuuya sets his fingers onto the top of Baki’s head and strokes down. The
Taking some time to work through his thoughts, Chuuya sets his fingers onto the top of Baki’s head and strokes down. The
cat purrs, happy to be petted as a distraction. He kneads Chuuya’s thigh, digging his claws in rhythmically until he’s wincing.
Dazai doesn’t push him, content to hold him in his arms and just sit with him. Occasionally, he tugs on Baki’s tail just hard enough to irritate him,
Dazai doesn’t push him, content to hold him in his arms and just sit with him. Occasionally, he tugs on Baki’s tail just hard enough to irritate him,
just enough to hear him meow in complaint.
"I just," he mutters eventually, feeling absurd, "I don't want her to grow up without a mom. I don't want anyone to grow up without a mom."
Dazai hums again,tucking him closer so he can prop his chin on top of his head. "You have such
"I just," he mutters eventually, feeling absurd, "I don't want her to grow up without a mom. I don't want anyone to grow up without a mom."
Dazai hums again,tucking him closer so he can prop his chin on top of his head. "You have such
a big heart, chibi."
Normally, he puts up a fuss about the nickname. He doesn't /hate/ it, he actually likes the many nicknames Dazai makes for him, but if he didn't at least put up a little bit of a fight, Dazai might start thinking it's okay to call him short whenever he feels
Normally, he puts up a fuss about the nickname. He doesn't /hate/ it, he actually likes the many nicknames Dazai makes for him, but if he didn't at least put up a little bit of a fight, Dazai might start thinking it's okay to call him short whenever he feels
like it.
Today, he just pushes back into Dazai, accepting the comfort even as absurd and overdramatic as he feels. "I mean, it's different too, because at least I had my sisters. Everyone in this baby's family gave her up."
Chuuya might not have had a perfect life, but at
Today, he just pushes back into Dazai, accepting the comfort even as absurd and overdramatic as he feels. "I mean, it's different too, because at least I had my sisters. Everyone in this baby's family gave her up."
Chuuya might not have had a perfect life, but at
least he had a life where he was wanted. Maybe his childhood was hard and unfair to him and both of his sisters— but at least they always knew that their father loved them.
It was even obvious that their mother loved them. Chuuya may have never met her— but he’s been told many
It was even obvious that their mother loved them. Chuuya may have never met her— but he’s been told many
times how eager she was to meet him, how she had so many plans for his nursery, and his first room. How she used to talk to him all the time, and how his name and his hair came from her.
Which makes it even worse that her doctors failed her so tragically, but she loved him, even
Which makes it even worse that her doctors failed her so tragically, but she loved him, even
when it hurts to know that. When it hurts to know that he lost something /good/, when it hurts whenever his dad gets too wine-tipsy and pulls out the old scrapbooks he keeps in the attic, humming the old lullaby she made up under his breath and trying not to cry.
When he was
When he was
little, he used to want more. He used to think he was missing so much, used to think that there was a whole part of life that he was just…missing. Not for any reason that he could use to justify or rage against, either— but just because that’s how the cards played out. He was
just unlucky.
It was just a terrible thing that happened to his family. Something that wasn’t anybody’s fault, and maybe that was the most hurtful part of all, that no one could’ve done anything differently.
It’s not the same for the new baby. It wasn’t a tragic, unexplained
It was just a terrible thing that happened to his family. Something that wasn’t anybody’s fault, and maybe that was the most hurtful part of all, that no one could’ve done anything differently.
It’s not the same for the new baby. It wasn’t a tragic, unexplained
accident that could not have been avoided. It was deliberate, a mistake after a mistake, something that could've been avoided if--
If only someone had cared enough.
"I would never give up one of Kouyou's kids," he mutters to himself, frowning to himself. Maybe that's the part
If only someone had cared enough.
"I would never give up one of Kouyou's kids," he mutters to himself, frowning to himself. Maybe that's the part
that upsets him the most-- the complete abandonment.
Dazai blows out a breath, gusty enough that Chuuya's bangs get ruffled, falling into his face in ticklish strands. "Not everyone has that option," he says, a subtle reminder that he's /lucky/.
Not everyone has an obscenely
Dazai blows out a breath, gusty enough that Chuuya's bangs get ruffled, falling into his face in ticklish strands. "Not everyone has that option," he says, a subtle reminder that he's /lucky/.
Not everyone has an obscenely
rich boyfriend, or a secretly obscenely rich sister. Not everyone has the support system he has, or the opportunities he's had. Not everyone has a home to go back to, no matter what happens.
Some people truly are on their own.
He sighs, feeling frustrated and absurd and silly.
Some people truly are on their own.
He sighs, feeling frustrated and absurd and silly.
Really, why is he so worked up about this? It's not like this affects him /personally/, and it's not like he has some deep, underlying trauma that's being drug up by the situation. He's never been or known anyone in foster care.
He's just being /weird/. He needs to let it go.
He's just being /weird/. He needs to let it go.
"Yeah," he agrees, hoisting Baki up in his arms and ignoring the cats half-baked protests as he manhandles him into holding him like a baby. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just being weird, I guess. Emotional."
Ever since the kidnapping incident, Chuuya has had... he wouldn't go quite
Ever since the kidnapping incident, Chuuya has had... he wouldn't go quite
so far as to say bad days, though that might be the best description for them. He’s always been an emotional, passionate person, but now some days, it feels dialed up to ten. Every emotion louder and bigger than it should be, where loud sounds make him jump and the drip of water
in the sink drives up the wall into unwarranted rage. Days he has bad dreams and even worse nightmares.
He hadn’t thought today was that kind of day— but maybe that’s why he’s so hung up on this. Maybe it’s just a weird day for him mentally, and this just triggered some
He hadn’t thought today was that kind of day— but maybe that’s why he’s so hung up on this. Maybe it’s just a weird day for him mentally, and this just triggered some
emotional intensity for him for some reason.
It’s fine. It’s normal and it’s fine and it’s completely reasonable to find the situation upsetting, but he’ll get over it soon enough. He always does.
Except this time, he doesn’t. He can’t seem to let it go.
In the middle of
It’s fine. It’s normal and it’s fine and it’s completely reasonable to find the situation upsetting, but he’ll get over it soon enough. He always does.
Except this time, he doesn’t. He can’t seem to let it go.
In the middle of
class, he finds himself wondering what kind of school the baby will end up going to. If she’ll want to go to college, or even if she’ll be able to go to college with the shady-semi-legal fostering Oda takes part in. If she’ll end up being in the mafia because she doesn’t really
have any other choice. If she’ll know any different.
Eventually he manages to bully Kouyou into sending him pictures of her— a feat that has her side-eyeing him and sending him thinking face emoji’s for the next couple of hours, but she eventually relents.
And then he spends
Eventually he manages to bully Kouyou into sending him pictures of her— a feat that has her side-eyeing him and sending him thinking face emoji’s for the next couple of hours, but she eventually relents.
And then he spends
a couple of days superstitiously looking at the adorable photos, especially the one where a rubber duck has been placed on her forehead and she's gone cross-eyed to try to look at it.
He's not... he's not /hiding/ it from Dazai, but he hasn't mentioned it since the initial day,
He's not... he's not /hiding/ it from Dazai, but he hasn't mentioned it since the initial day,
and he's starting to realize that he doesn't /just/ feel stressed about the situation. Yes, it's still upsetting, and he still feels a lot of sympathy and anger towards the people who should have been there for her and weren't.
But...
The longer he sits on it, the more he
But...
The longer he sits on it, the more he
realizes that--
That he actually kind of /wants/ a baby. It's not that surprising of a thought-- he's always wanted a family, with one or two little ones running around. Not /too/ big, but just big enough that his home always feels warm and full and comforting to come back to.
That he actually kind of /wants/ a baby. It's not that surprising of a thought-- he's always wanted a family, with one or two little ones running around. Not /too/ big, but just big enough that his home always feels warm and full and comforting to come back to.
But what is surprising is that he's twenty-one, has been dating the same man for almost three years, and he finds himself thinking--
/ I want a baby. I want a baby with Dazai. /
Finds himself daydreaming about it, picturing early mornings with Dazai making breakfast with a
/ I want a baby. I want a baby with Dazai. /
Finds himself daydreaming about it, picturing early mornings with Dazai making breakfast with a
little chef by his side. Taking their kid to school, teaching Yoko how to play nicely and gently with someone much smaller than she's used to. Taking the spare bedroom and redecorating it with pinks and oranges and yellows. Dazai sitting at the kitchen table and helping their kid
with their english homework while Chuuya helps them with their math. Dazai with their child sitting on his shoulders.
It's all so charmingly domestic and he /yearns/ for it. Finds himself aching for it, daydreaming about all the things that they could have together.
And maybe
It's all so charmingly domestic and he /yearns/ for it. Finds himself aching for it, daydreaming about all the things that they could have together.
And maybe
he's too young. Maybe they're not ready for something like that. Dazai is still his first boyfriend, and even though they've been dating for what seems to be a long time for him, he knows it's not a long time in the grand scheme of things.
Two years. They're not even married
Two years. They're not even married
yet. Even though there is this silent understanding that their lives will continue to be planned and lived together-- Dazai's been making noises about moving to a different house eventually-- they haven't actually discussed the future or what comes next. Not seriously, anyway.
This is a big step to consider, he knows. Children are a serious commitment, for everyone involved. And he knows he's young,not even graduated from college yet, and without much life experience or opportunity to be truly independent.
The more he thinks about it, the more logical
The more he thinks about it, the more logical
reasons he can come up with that they /shouldn't/.Dazai's good with kids,but he's never mentioned wanting any more of his own.They don't have the space.Chuuya is young and irresponsible. It would take lots of time and money
And yet,he can't talk himself out of feeling like this.
And yet,he can't talk himself out of feeling like this.
He can’t stop himself from feeling like his heart is going to burst when he wakes up from a dream so ordinary and domestic that it’s almost embarrassing. He can’t stop himself from looking at a couple walking down the street with their child’s hands in theirs and thinking /‘That
could be us./ Can’t stop from putting on those family movies, the ones with the surprise children. Can’t stop himself from scrolling through Pinterest and dreaming of all the things that could happen.
When he finally talks to Yuan about it— needing to get this off his chest
When he finally talks to Yuan about it— needing to get this off his chest
to /someone/ even if he's not yet brave enough to speak about it directly with Dazai or Kouyou yet-- she wrinkles her nose at the thought of children, but she's also very enthusiastic about being an 'aunt' to his children. And then she shows him this Tiktok account that features
videos of this adorable toddler being dressed up in the cutest outfits and being dropped off at daycare.
Needless to say, that conversation-- which he had come into firmly expecting to be dissuaded from the possibility of kids-- does nothing more than fuel his desires.
In the
Needless to say, that conversation-- which he had come into firmly expecting to be dissuaded from the possibility of kids-- does nothing more than fuel his desires.
In the
end, he tries to bring it up subtly. He waits until they're intertwined in bed, relaxing and recovering from a frankly /marathonic/ round of sex, to bring it up.
"Do you ever want more kids?"
Okay, so maybe subtlety isn't his strong suit, based on the way Dazai's eyebrows
"Do you ever want more kids?"
Okay, so maybe subtlety isn't his strong suit, based on the way Dazai's eyebrows
immediately shoot up in surprise. He even pulls back to look at him fully, blinking at him like he’s not sure what to make of the question.
Hot with embarrassment, Chuuya fights the urge to squirm. Trying to play it off will only make it weirder, so he just has to keep going
Hot with embarrassment, Chuuya fights the urge to squirm. Trying to play it off will only make it weirder, so he just has to keep going
with this conversation even though this is /definitely/ not how he wanted to bring it up. He wanted to play it cool and casual and uninterested, not…embarrassingly obvious.
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Dazai says after a minute, letting go of Chuuya to stretch out his
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Dazai says after a minute, letting go of Chuuya to stretch out his
back with a long sigh. He points his toes when he does, flexing until he trembles in a move very reminiscent of Baki when he stretches. It’s cute.
To give himself something to distract him with, Chuuya reaches for the wet wipes they keep in the bedside table. He starts cleaning
To give himself something to distract him with, Chuuya reaches for the wet wipes they keep in the bedside table. He starts cleaning
up between his thighs and over his hips where lingering traces of lube are still smeared over his skin. He'll need a shower soon, but he can at least stop feeling so sticky. "But you're not opposed to it?"
Dazai is usually a pretty decisive person. If he wants or doesn't want
Dazai is usually a pretty decisive person. If he wants or doesn't want
something-- which is rare, considering he's also generally neutral about most things--, he's upfront about it. Sometimes Chuuya can wheedle him into changing his opinion with enough work, but if Dazai truly doesn't want something, nothing can change his mind.
So the fact that he
So the fact that he
hasn't outright said /no/--
That means something.
Easily offering up his fingers so Chuuya can clean up the sticky residue lingering in between his fingers, Dazai looks at him. His gaze never wavers, no matter how many times Chuuya looks up and then away, unable to hold eye
That means something.
Easily offering up his fingers so Chuuya can clean up the sticky residue lingering in between his fingers, Dazai looks at him. His gaze never wavers, no matter how many times Chuuya looks up and then away, unable to hold eye
contact during a conversation like this. It feels like revealing too much of himself, putting too much of his hopes and dreams out there to be seen and recognized.
"I don't know," Dazai says cautiously, his voice even and steady. There's no inflection or overtone in it, which
"I don't know," Dazai says cautiously, his voice even and steady. There's no inflection or overtone in it, which
somehow makes Chuuya's nerves /worse/. If he had sounded off-put by the idea, or if he had sounded excited, at least he could've had an idea of what to expect out of this conversation.
As it is, he has no idea.
"Why?" he continues, pulling his hand away when it starts to
As it is, he has no idea.
"Why?" he continues, pulling his hand away when it starts to
become obvious that he's using it as an excuse to avoid the conversation. "Is this about the new baby?"
Chuuya makes a face, throwing away the used wet wipe. Trust Dazai to know him well enough that he can cut straight to the heart of the matter in seconds.
"No," he grumbles,
Chuuya makes a face, throwing away the used wet wipe. Trust Dazai to know him well enough that he can cut straight to the heart of the matter in seconds.
"No," he grumbles,
and then immediately has to change his answer to a reluctant "Yes" when his boyfriend raises an eyebrow at him.
Flopping back onto the bed, he drags a pillow to his chest and props his chin on it. His foot ends up nudging against Dazai's calf, and he takes comfort in that small,
Flopping back onto the bed, he drags a pillow to his chest and props his chin on it. His foot ends up nudging against Dazai's calf, and he takes comfort in that small,
simple point of contact as he gathers his thoughts so he can speak without making a fool of himself.
It's not that he thinks Dazai will judge him or do something like laugh at him-- but this is still an important conversation, and he wants to have it right. He wants to say what
It's not that he thinks Dazai will judge him or do something like laugh at him-- but this is still an important conversation, and he wants to have it right. He wants to say what
he means, what he wants, and not be stumbling over himself or leave something out.
"It's not really about her," he sighs, looking up at the ceiling because he can't bear to see what kind of expression Dazai is making right now. "It's just... seeing her kind of made me realize
"It's not really about her," he sighs, looking up at the ceiling because he can't bear to see what kind of expression Dazai is making right now. "It's just... seeing her kind of made me realize
that...I want kids. I want to have a baby."
The mattress shifts as Dazai rolls over, and now he can't avoid looking at him, because he's propped up on his elbow with his face only a few inches from his own. It's a bit too close to make out his expression clearly,but his eyes are
The mattress shifts as Dazai rolls over, and now he can't avoid looking at him, because he's propped up on his elbow with his face only a few inches from his own. It's a bit too close to make out his expression clearly,but his eyes are
steady and non-judgmental, the same lovely brown they always are. "You've always wanted kids, though."
That is true; he's never been exactly secretive about his future plans including children. But it's always been an abstract thing, plans entirely made on the concept of 'one
That is true; he's never been exactly secretive about his future plans including children. But it's always been an abstract thing, plans entirely made on the concept of 'one
day'. Plans so far in the future they might as well be dreams, so abstract and nebulous they could hardly be put into concrete words.
But it's not like that anymore. It's not 'one day' for him anymore-- it's 'soon'. He wants a baby now, soon, not five or ten years in the future.
But it's not like that anymore. It's not 'one day' for him anymore-- it's 'soon'. He wants a baby now, soon, not five or ten years in the future.
It's like dreaming about college. He spent so much of his childhood and preteen years dreaming about what his first year of college would be like-- but when he finally got to the point where he was filling out applications and packing his stuff to move into his dorm room and
signing up for classes, it was exhilarating and terrifying and overwhelming and confusing.
It's like that now. All those far-fetched, abstract dreams replaced by the reality of it, the knowledge that after so long of thinking of it, it could finally be here. No more waiting,
It's like that now. All those far-fetched, abstract dreams replaced by the reality of it, the knowledge that after so long of thinking of it, it could finally be here. No more waiting,
no more thinking.
Just doing it.
"I know," he says, chancing a peek at Dazai's expression through his lashes. His boyfriend doesn't look like he has a strong opinion in either direction, just slightly confused at the sudden conversation. "But I've been thinking about it a lot
Just doing it.
"I know," he says, chancing a peek at Dazai's expression through his lashes. His boyfriend doesn't look like he has a strong opinion in either direction, just slightly confused at the sudden conversation. "But I've been thinking about it a lot
lately, and I think I want kids now. Or-- soon, anyways."
This time, the silence is so long Chuuya has to bite down on the urge to take it all back, to turn it into a joke, to make it seem like something he doesn't /actually/ care that much about so he can't be hurt if Dazai
This time, the silence is so long Chuuya has to bite down on the urge to take it all back, to turn it into a joke, to make it seem like something he doesn't /actually/ care that much about so he can't be hurt if Dazai
doesn't feel the same way.
Eventually, Dazai clarifies: "Kids. With me."
And-- yeah, that's a huge part of it. Not only from a practical, logical aspect-- Chuuya might be a little better off than he was when he was eighteen, with more opportunities and schooling, but he's still
Eventually, Dazai clarifies: "Kids. With me."
And-- yeah, that's a huge part of it. Not only from a practical, logical aspect-- Chuuya might be a little better off than he was when he was eighteen, with more opportunities and schooling, but he's still
only twenty, and still can’t support himself /and/ a child. Maybe, if he was pressed, he could do it—
But he doesn’t want to do it by himself. None of his imaginings have ever included just him and a baby; it’s always been him, his partner, and their children.
More recently,
But he doesn’t want to do it by himself. None of his imaginings have ever included just him and a baby; it’s always been him, his partner, and their children.
More recently,
it’s been him and Dazai and their children. Even if Dazai hasn’t physically been in his imaginings— like the fantasy he’d had about teaching his child how to tie their first Judo belt— there’d always been a quiet knowledge that Dazai was always there in the background. He might
not always be there, but he’s never /gone/.
It’s been Dazai. It’s /always/ been Dazai, ever since the moment they met, since the moment he took Chuuya to dinner so he wouldn’t waste his makeup, since the day they kissed while pressed up against his car.
He can’t imagine
It’s been Dazai. It’s /always/ been Dazai, ever since the moment they met, since the moment he took Chuuya to dinner so he wouldn’t waste his makeup, since the day they kissed while pressed up against his car.
He can’t imagine
any part of his life without him, now. It’s just him, it’s just Dazai, no thoughts of anyone else besides the people that can fit comfortably in the spaces they create together.
He nods, watching Dazai through his lashes to get a gauge of how he’s feeling. They haven’t had a lot
He nods, watching Dazai through his lashes to get a gauge of how he’s feeling. They haven’t had a lot
of ‘serious’ conversations,not since Chuuya learned everything there was to know about Dazai’s past with the mafia.
By that time, they’d already moved in together, and they already had pets, and it was already agreed Chuuya would go back to college when he could. Having children
By that time, they’d already moved in together, and they already had pets, and it was already agreed Chuuya would go back to college when he could. Having children
hadn't been anywhere in the discussions then-- and it's the only big decision left to make.
Well, besides marriage, that is, but Dazai gets a little squirrelly whenever he even mentions marriage offhand, so Chuuya's kind of tabled that discussion for later, when his boyfriend
Well, besides marriage, that is, but Dazai gets a little squirrelly whenever he even mentions marriage offhand, so Chuuya's kind of tabled that discussion for later, when his boyfriend
doesn’t look like he’s about to start accusing him of something whenever he brings it up.
“It doesn’t have to be right /now/,” he clarifies, because it’s not like he’s expecting to sign adoption papers tomorrow or even next month, “but… yeah. Kids, with you. Together.”
For a
“It doesn’t have to be right /now/,” he clarifies, because it’s not like he’s expecting to sign adoption papers tomorrow or even next month, “but… yeah. Kids, with you. Together.”
For a
long moment, Dazai just...stares at him. The expression on his face makes it seem like he's thinking hard about something, like he's struggling to understand.
Was bringing up the idea of having children together /that/ surprising? Early, maybe, and probably completely out of the
Was bringing up the idea of having children together /that/ surprising? Early, maybe, and probably completely out of the
blue, but was the subject really enough to have Dazai looking that dumbfounded?
"Are you sure that's what you want?" he asks eventually, slowly enough that Chuuya's stomach starts to plunge with what he assumes is about to be a gentle letdown. "I mean," Dazai shrugs, "you saw
"Are you sure that's what you want?" he asks eventually, slowly enough that Chuuya's stomach starts to plunge with what he assumes is about to be a gentle letdown. "I mean," Dazai shrugs, "you saw
how Shuuji turned out. Are you sure you want to have kids with someone who’s /already/ a bad father?”
The way he says it is like he’s trying to play it off as a joke. Like it doesn’t bother him, like it’s supposed to be funny, like Chuuya is supposed to just giggle, come to his
The way he says it is like he’s trying to play it off as a joke. Like it doesn’t bother him, like it’s supposed to be funny, like Chuuya is supposed to just giggle, come to his
senses and drop the subject now that he knows better.
But he already knows better, and it’s not in the way Dazai probably thinks he should.
In no way is Chuuya saying Shuuji is a /great/ person—but other the past two years, watching both Shuuji and Dazai work on mending their
But he already knows better, and it’s not in the way Dazai probably thinks he should.
In no way is Chuuya saying Shuuji is a /great/ person—but other the past two years, watching both Shuuji and Dazai work on mending their
relationship, both of them tentative and awkward and delicately trying to smooth over all their past mistakes, has given Chuuya a new insight into Shuuji’s character. The man who comes to dinner once a month with a bottle of wine or whiskey, eagerly dragging his boyfriend behind
him— and Ranpo and Shuuji is not a pairing that Chuuya would have ever thought of, but they seem to enjoy it and eachother, based on the ‘your son calls me daddy too’ shirts Ranpo wears whenever Dazai makes the mistake of inviting him to family dinner—is not the same boy who once
pulled a knife on Chuuya. The old Shuuji would’ve never awkwardly apologized to him, would’ve never considered dropping out of his business degree to pursue becoming a private investigator (a fact that both Ranpo and Dazai find /hilarious/), probably would’ve never been caught in
an almost-year-long relationship.
He’s different now. He’s changed, grown. Even Chuuya can see it, and he’s not someone who spends a lot of time with him.
Plus—
“You can’t take all the blame for that, and you know that,” he reminds him gently, rolling closer and pushing on
He’s different now. He’s changed, grown. Even Chuuya can see it, and he’s not someone who spends a lot of time with him.
Plus—
“You can’t take all the blame for that, and you know that,” he reminds him gently, rolling closer and pushing on
his shoulders until Dazai gets the message and lets himself be pushed over onto his back. Following him over smoothly, Chuuya swings a leg over his hips and lands squarely in his lap. “We’ve talked about this.”
Face twitching with discomfort, Dazai looks away. They haven’t
Face twitching with discomfort, Dazai looks away. They haven’t
had a lot of conversations about this, mostly because Chuuya isn't sure how to bring it up when it makes Dazai so uncomfortable. He still doesn't like to talk about his past, but he will if Chuuya pushes for it.
"You were young," he reminds him gently, reaching out to stroke his
"You were young," he reminds him gently, reaching out to stroke his
cheeks, uncaring that the three-day stubble drags against his fingertips.
It’s true— he /was/ young, so terribly, terribly young and inexperienced. Younger than Chuuya is now, younger than he was even when they first met. And he didn’t have any knowledge to draw from, never had
It’s true— he /was/ young, so terribly, terribly young and inexperienced. Younger than Chuuya is now, younger than he was even when they first met. And he didn’t have any knowledge to draw from, never had
even a memory of a good family to draw from. Never had to watch over younger siblings, or even had friends with siblings. When Shuuji was born, he had no idea what to do with him and no one that would help him learn.
Even Sasaki, from what Chuuya can gather, mostly left them to
Even Sasaki, from what Chuuya can gather, mostly left them to
their own devices, too hurt by Dazai’s seeming betrayal when he refused to get into a relationship with her again. Which, in one aspect, can be seen as a good thing—
But in another, it meant that the intermittent times Dazai was allowed to see Shuuji when he was a child, he
But in another, it meant that the intermittent times Dazai was allowed to see Shuuji when he was a child, he
didn’t have any idea what to do with him. Didn’t have any idea of what was going on with the kid at home, didn’t know how to enforce boundaries, didn’t know that he needed to be setting an example.
Back then, he didn’t know a lot of things. It’s the reason he made so many
Back then, he didn’t know a lot of things. It’s the reason he made so many
mistakes. Not the only reason, but it’s a bit unfair to expect someone like Dazai to be instantly good at parenting. The man can barely parent himself most days, and he’s almost middle aged.
“Besides,” he continues, patting his cheek, “you wouldn’t be alone this time. I’d be
“Besides,” he continues, patting his cheek, “you wouldn’t be alone this time. I’d be
with you.”
Gaze swinging back to him, Dazai just…looks at him for a long moment. Takes him in from head to the soft paleness of the inside of his knees, his eyes brimming with something unreadable. It’s not sexual, but it is a little unnerving, like he’s trying to see straight
Gaze swinging back to him, Dazai just…looks at him for a long moment. Takes him in from head to the soft paleness of the inside of his knees, his eyes brimming with something unreadable. It’s not sexual, but it is a little unnerving, like he’s trying to see straight
through to the heart of him, trying to decide if what he’s saying can be trusted to be true.
If nothing else, Chuuya knows that he’s proven himself capable of handling Dazai’s most secret, vulnerable places. If nothing else, Dazai should know that he will stand by him, even when
If nothing else, Chuuya knows that he’s proven himself capable of handling Dazai’s most secret, vulnerable places. If nothing else, Dazai should know that he will stand by him, even when
it’s hard, even when they both take turns stumbling off the path making mistakes.
Maybe it’ll be hard, and confusing and scary. Maybe at times it will all go wrong and it’ll be hard to remember why they did it.
But at least they will always have eachother. At least they’ll
Maybe it’ll be hard, and confusing and scary. Maybe at times it will all go wrong and it’ll be hard to remember why they did it.
But at least they will always have eachother. At least they’ll
never be alone again. At least they’ve chosen eachother over and over again and will do it again.
Running his hands up Chuuya’s legs in a caress that’s both affectionate and sensual, Dazai hums. “You want kids with me?” He repeats, a note of teasing entering his voice.
It’s
Running his hands up Chuuya’s legs in a caress that’s both affectionate and sensual, Dazai hums. “You want kids with me?” He repeats, a note of teasing entering his voice.
It’s
not an answer either way, but Chuuya relaxes anyways. Dazai’s always like this; whenever he needs a break, needs space to think about something and come to his own conclusion, he always turns the conversation with humor. Makes him laugh or gets him distracted so Dazai can think
it through on his own.
Over the years, Dazai has become very familiar to him. Chuuya knows him down to the bones, even the parts he instinctively tries to hide.
That’s the reason Chuuya lets him play it off, right now. There’s no pressure, not now; he doesn’t need an answer
Over the years, Dazai has become very familiar to him. Chuuya knows him down to the bones, even the parts he instinctively tries to hide.
That’s the reason Chuuya lets him play it off, right now. There’s no pressure, not now; he doesn’t need an answer
right now. He'd like one, but--
He's learned his lesson on pushing Dazai into speaking about things before he's ready. Learned his lesson about putting him on the spot and surprising him.
It's fine. They have time-- and Dazai taking the time to think about it means it's not a
He's learned his lesson on pushing Dazai into speaking about things before he's ready. Learned his lesson about putting him on the spot and surprising him.
It's fine. They have time-- and Dazai taking the time to think about it means it's not a
/no/. Not outright, at least.
Thinking about it means he might say /yes/. Chuuya is patient enough to wait for that.
And if Dazai wants to do something /other/ than talking... he could very easily be convinced to go along with that idea. The soft skin of his thighs is already
Thinking about it means he might say /yes/. Chuuya is patient enough to wait for that.
And if Dazai wants to do something /other/ than talking... he could very easily be convinced to go along with that idea. The soft skin of his thighs is already
pebble got with goosebumps, always ready to react to any of Dazai’s touches.
“You want a baby?” He continues in the same voice, one of his hands coasting high enough to sweep his thumb over the crease where Chuuya’s hip meets his stomach. The other stays on his thigh, casually
“You want a baby?” He continues in the same voice, one of his hands coasting high enough to sweep his thumb over the crease where Chuuya’s hip meets his stomach. The other stays on his thigh, casually
displaying how big his hands are by easily wrapping his fingers around nearly half of Chuuya’s thigh, his palm burning hot and the pads of his fingers assertively strong in how he absentmindedly kneads at his muscle.
The inside of his thighs are still littered with the marks he
The inside of his thighs are still littered with the marks he
left. Some of them are days old, favorite spots of Dazai’s that never really go away because he never lets them completely fade away. Some of them are only hours old.
Almost too naturally, Dazai’s fingers align with a bruise he left two days ago. He squeezes, not harsh but firm,
Almost too naturally, Dazai’s fingers align with a bruise he left two days ago. He squeezes, not harsh but firm,
unrelenting until there’s a twinge of sore-pain that zings up Chuuya’s spine.
There’s a certain type of masochism that lies in pushing a body to it’s limits and forcing it to keep going. It’s what Chuuya loves the most, the thigh-shaking exhaustion, the sweating, the way his
There’s a certain type of masochism that lies in pushing a body to it’s limits and forcing it to keep going. It’s what Chuuya loves the most, the thigh-shaking exhaustion, the sweating, the way his
body aches for a break that it won’t get, the straining for just a little more, a little longer.
He’s almost there already. His thighs still ache from being thrown over Dazai’s shoulders earlier, and his abs ache with every deep breath. Satisfaction thrums through him like a
He’s almost there already. His thighs still ache from being thrown over Dazai’s shoulders earlier, and his abs ache with every deep breath. Satisfaction thrums through him like a
drug, potent enough to make his whole body buzz.
It’d be easy to stretch into sleep, to let a quick nap take up the rest of his late afternoon. It’s the weekend, nothing to do except enjoy the rest of his free time.
Beneath him, Dazai’s thighs flex. It’s not a move to throw
It’d be easy to stretch into sleep, to let a quick nap take up the rest of his late afternoon. It’s the weekend, nothing to do except enjoy the rest of his free time.
Beneath him, Dazai’s thighs flex. It’s not a move to throw
him off, but just a way to remind Chuuya how easily he can lift his weight, how easy it would be for him to flip them over and pin him down.
“You want /my/ baby?” He asks, eyes hot enough to melt. The tone he shoots for is casual but falls short, curling into something darker,
“You want /my/ baby?” He asks, eyes hot enough to melt. The tone he shoots for is casual but falls short, curling into something darker,
headier, rolling off his tongue like wine-flavored sin. The hand on Chuuya’s stomach moves, an almost-innocent gesture that purposefully sweeps over the soft expanse of his belly on it’s way up his chest.
And—
This isn’t what Chuuya /meant/ by them having kids— hadn’t even
And—
This isn’t what Chuuya /meant/ by them having kids— hadn’t even
thought of something like this, really, but he can’t deny that the gesture sparks something inside him.
If he /could/ have Dazai’s baby, if he was fucked good enough, long enough, that his body could do nothing less than make a space inside for Dazai to stay, if his belly could
If he /could/ have Dazai’s baby, if he was fucked good enough, long enough, that his body could do nothing less than make a space inside for Dazai to stay, if his belly could
grow soft and round and everyone could see the evidence inside him, being so thoroughly claimed that it would be obvious to everyone who looked at him, the idea of growing a precious little life inside him, maybe one with Dazai’s nose and his hair, being able to see and hold the
evidence of their time together—
It sends a spark of heat through him, a shot of longing like lightning down his spine. He shifts, a subtle rock of his hips. Beneath him, Dazai’s thighs flex again.
It’s too early for his cock to fill out again— Dazai had practically wrung him
It sends a spark of heat through him, a shot of longing like lightning down his spine. He shifts, a subtle rock of his hips. Beneath him, Dazai’s thighs flex again.
It’s too early for his cock to fill out again— Dazai had practically wrung him
dry, seemingly determined to make him cry before he finally let himself finish— but there’s a different kind of arousal stirring in him now, something deeper and hotter. Not the urgent, outward need that burns quickly, but a molten desire that smolders low and long and deep.
Something that's not easily sated, something that burns and burns and burns, and won't be put out quickly or quietly.
All too-knowing, Dazai grins up at him. Self-satisfaction is a good look on him, the twinkle in his eye and the unique curve to his mouth when he realizes he's
All too-knowing, Dazai grins up at him. Self-satisfaction is a good look on him, the twinkle in his eye and the unique curve to his mouth when he realizes he's
about to get what he wants as compelling as the idea itself.
Happiness, contentment, is a good look on him, and something he has settled into well over the past two years. Chuuya wants to keep him looking like this, starry-eyed and pink-cheeked, for the rest of their lives.
Happiness, contentment, is a good look on him, and something he has settled into well over the past two years. Chuuya wants to keep him looking like this, starry-eyed and pink-cheeked, for the rest of their lives.
Settling deeper into the seat of Dazai’s hips and letting his ass brush deliberately over his stirring cock, Chuuya makes his eyes rounder and lets his tongue swipe over his bottom lip. “Yes, daddy,” he says, faux-innocent, a grin growing on his face when Dazai’s eyes immediately
turn molten and focused.
After all this time— even after Chuuya shamelessly abusing the ‘daddy’ privilege to get whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it— it still gets Dazai going. It’s like a button that just turns off his self-control, and Chuuya loves to press it.
Fingers
After all this time— even after Chuuya shamelessly abusing the ‘daddy’ privilege to get whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it— it still gets Dazai going. It’s like a button that just turns off his self-control, and Chuuya loves to press it.
Fingers
digging hard into his hips, Dazai drags him forward and then back, a mimicry of the way he moves when they fuck.
“If you want it so bad,” he breathes, devil-sweet, “then /take/ it.”
With a giggle, feeling high on life and full to the brim with happiness and love, Chuuya
“If you want it so bad,” he breathes, devil-sweet, “then /take/ it.”
With a giggle, feeling high on life and full to the brim with happiness and love, Chuuya
does. Again and again and again, until they’re both too breathless to keep going.
———
Almost three weeks later, when Chuuya was just about to bring up the idea again and ask if Dazai has come to a decision either way— something that Kouyou has been pressing him to do, because
———
Almost three weeks later, when Chuuya was just about to bring up the idea again and ask if Dazai has come to a decision either way— something that Kouyou has been pressing him to do, because
she has surprisingly become the top advocate for a healthy relationship between them, which means sometimes she has to beat Chuuya over the head with the reminder that communication is /key/ (“And very sexy,” she had added, which he has purposefully forgotten to remember)— when
Dazai starts the conversation first.
Well, not /the/ conversation— but a conversation.
It’s when Chuuya is sitting at the dining table working on an essay for his literature class when Dazai asks suddenly, “Do you want to go to Osaka next week?”
Attention caught by his work,
Well, not /the/ conversation— but a conversation.
It’s when Chuuya is sitting at the dining table working on an essay for his literature class when Dazai asks suddenly, “Do you want to go to Osaka next week?”
Attention caught by his work,
Chuuya makes a questioning hum without looking away. The conclusion on this essay has been such a pain, it’s for his midterm so he wants to make sure he gets it as perfect as possible and he’s just gotten into the flow of writing—
Wait, what?
He looks up. Dazai is in the
Wait, what?
He looks up. Dazai is in the
kitchen, attempting to teach Baki to stand on command by holding a treat above his head. Baki is unamused, staring up at him with flat eyes.
“What?” He asks, slightly confused. They do go on vacations quite often, but it’s usually as celebrations for important dates. Birthdays
“What?” He asks, slightly confused. They do go on vacations quite often, but it’s usually as celebrations for important dates. Birthdays
and anniversaries, even some things as small as having a full house during one of Chuuya’s poetry readings.
But a vacation now? When he’s in the middle of midterms? Months away from either of their birthdays? They haven’t discussed what they want to do about their upcoming
But a vacation now? When he’s in the middle of midterms? Months away from either of their birthdays? They haven’t discussed what they want to do about their upcoming
anniversary— Dazai has been squirrelly about it, which is strange because he started planning their last anniversary weeks in advance.
So why /now/? Chuuya has school, and one of the friends he’s met through an extracurricular photography class is displaying their work at a
So why /now/? Chuuya has school, and one of the friends he’s met through an extracurricular photography class is displaying their work at a
museum, so he wanted to catch the opening night if he could. “Next week? Why so soon?”
Normally he asks almost a month in advance— only a week is unusual.
This whole thing is unusual. Dazai’s been /sweet/ lately, but he’s also been weird about the strangest things. Not to the
Normally he asks almost a month in advance— only a week is unusual.
This whole thing is unusual. Dazai’s been /sweet/ lately, but he’s also been weird about the strangest things. Not to the
point where Chuuya is /concerned/, but enough that he’s noticed.
Closing out tabs on his computer whenever Chuuya walks into his office before he can see them. Making vague references to their anniversary. Spending time on the phone with /Kouyou/, oddly enough. Asking if he
Closing out tabs on his computer whenever Chuuya walks into his office before he can see them. Making vague references to their anniversary. Spending time on the phone with /Kouyou/, oddly enough. Asking if he
prefers summer or spring, if he wants another puppy, that kind of thing.
Just overall /weird/, and if he wasn’t also being almost too-sweet, smothering Chuuya in love and spending as much time as possible with him, then he’d start having suspicions. As it is, he just takes a
Just overall /weird/, and if he wasn’t also being almost too-sweet, smothering Chuuya in love and spending as much time as possible with him, then he’d start having suspicions. As it is, he just takes a
mental note of it so he can gossip about it with Yuan on their bi-weekly girls nights. (Yuan says that even though he’s NOT a girl, he’s still dating a man, which entitles him to having a ‘safe space’ to complain about said man and gossip about their sex life. Chuuya is slightly
confused, but Yuan always has his favorite wine in stock, so he’s down to hang out with the ‘girls’ for a night or two and get trashed.
They, of course, have strong opinions about Dazai’s weird behavior. Ideas like—)
“No reason,” Dazai says, in a too-innocent voice that
They, of course, have strong opinions about Dazai’s weird behavior. Ideas like—)
“No reason,” Dazai says, in a too-innocent voice that
immediately makes him suspicious as hell. “I just thought you deserve a reward for working hard on your midterms.”
He has only turned in one of his three midterms so far. He squints suspiciously at him, waiting for a better reason.
It doesn’t come. Dazai just continues to
He has only turned in one of his three midterms so far. He squints suspiciously at him, waiting for a better reason.
It doesn’t come. Dazai just continues to
avoid eye contact, making little kissy noises at Baki in attempts to get him to stand up. Kozo, behind him, with huge eyes on the treat in his hands, stands up on his hind legs like he’ll get a treat if he does the trick too.
“Next week probably isn’t a good time,” he says,
“Next week probably isn’t a good time,” he says,
turning back to his essay. “It’s pretty busy that week but maybe sometime next month?”
It’s not that he doesn’t /want/ to go to Osaka, and it’s not like he doesn’t e joy surprise trips— it’s just he actually is busy this week. It’s genuinely not a great time.
Of course, Dazai
It’s not that he doesn’t /want/ to go to Osaka, and it’s not like he doesn’t e joy surprise trips— it’s just he actually is busy this week. It’s genuinely not a great time.
Of course, Dazai
is the most dramatic person he knows, and acts like Chuuya just offered to shoot him in the foot. With a theatrical gasp, he presses a hand to his chest and gives him the most wounded look ever.
Baki bats at his ankle in protest of his treat disappearing from view.
“You don’t
Baki bats at his ankle in protest of his treat disappearing from view.
“You don’t
want to go on a trip with /me/?” He gasps, blinking his eyes rapidly like he’s fighting back tears. He’s not. “Do you not love me anymore? Is that it? You don’t want to spend time with me?”
Fighting a smile, Chuuya ends his current sentence with a flourished press on the
Fighting a smile, Chuuya ends his current sentence with a flourished press on the
key. “No.”
“/WOW!/“ Dazai wails, miming like he’s about to collapse on the floor in sheer agony.
Kozo looks from Dazai to Chuuya and back again, wondering what’s happening and what trick he has to do to get some of Baki’s treats. The mutt /loves/ the cat treats.
“Well,” his
“/WOW!/“ Dazai wails, miming like he’s about to collapse on the floor in sheer agony.
Kozo looks from Dazai to Chuuya and back again, wondering what’s happening and what trick he has to do to get some of Baki’s treats. The mutt /loves/ the cat treats.
“Well,” his
boyfriend sniffs, turning his nose up. “That’s /too bad/. I already made the reservations, and you /have/ to spend time with me!”
Swinging back around in his chair, Chuuya raises his eyebrows. “So you preplanned the trip, already settled it and /then/ decided to ask me about
Swinging back around in his chair, Chuuya raises his eyebrows. “So you preplanned the trip, already settled it and /then/ decided to ask me about
it?”
At least Dazai does have the grace to look a bit sheepish about that. He appeals to Chuuya’s better nature by making the biggest, roundest eyes at him as he says, “I wanted it to be a surprise?”
Surprises aren’t something that either of them particularly enjoy— they’ve
At least Dazai does have the grace to look a bit sheepish about that. He appeals to Chuuya’s better nature by making the biggest, roundest eyes at him as he says, “I wanted it to be a surprise?”
Surprises aren’t something that either of them particularly enjoy— they’ve
both been unpleasantly surprised enough that the fun of it has been overshadowed by anxiety— so he just waits with his eyebrows raised.
After another beat of silence, Dazai gives a dramatic sniff and comes over to drape himself over his shoulders like he doesn’t have a bone in
After another beat of silence, Dazai gives a dramatic sniff and comes over to drape himself over his shoulders like he doesn’t have a bone in
his body.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he whines, propping his chin on top of his head and leaning his entire weight on him. He’s warm and comfortably heavy, a weight Chuuya knows just as intimately as his own. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Sighing in a mix of love
“I wanted to surprise you,” he whines, propping his chin on top of his head and leaning his entire weight on him. He’s warm and comfortably heavy, a weight Chuuya knows just as intimately as his own. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Sighing in a mix of love
and exasperation, Chuuya leans back into his chest and bumps his head against the underside of his chin. "You're not very good at planning surprises," he points out, "You're supposed to /subtly/ get me to clear my schedule in advance, not drop it on me a week before. I still have
class next week and that thing I wanted to go to.”
Sighing, Dazai leans further on top of him. One of his hands comes up, fingertips gently stroking the length of his neck and the curve of his jaw. “I know I’m not very good at it,” he murmurs, his tone heavy with something
Sighing, Dazai leans further on top of him. One of his hands comes up, fingertips gently stroking the length of his neck and the curve of his jaw. “I know I’m not very good at it,” he murmurs, his tone heavy with something
unreadable, “but just go with it? For me?”
Ah, he always knows Chuuya’s weak spots. How can he ever hold on to the shreds of irritation when Dazai sounds like /that/?
“Alright,” he agrees, tipping his head back until Dazai gets the message and moves. From this angle, the only
Ah, he always knows Chuuya’s weak spots. How can he ever hold on to the shreds of irritation when Dazai sounds like /that/?
“Alright,” he agrees, tipping his head back until Dazai gets the message and moves. From this angle, the only
thing he can see is the stubbled underside of his chin and the tip of his nose. As unflattering as the angle is, it still fills him with affection. “Let’s go to Osaka then. I guess I can miss a class or two since I’m so ahead.”
So far, he hasn’t missed any class this semester.
So far, he hasn’t missed any class this semester.
All his professors are interesting, fun, and Chuuya genuinely enjoys most of the work— so he’s quite a bit ahead. He can afford an impromptu trip this one time, especially since Dazai looks like he might start crying if he says no.
Why is he so invested in this trip?
Dazai
Why is he so invested in this trip?
Dazai
beams like he just answered his prayers, leaning backwards and urging his chin up with the fingers until he can get the angle to brush a quick, affectionate, upside-down kiss over his lips. “Thank you, baby,” he murmurs quietly, soft and sweet in the scant space between them.
Love is an easy comfort now, as familiar as it is treasured. There’s no need for big gestures now, even as appreciated as they are.
The only thing Chuuya needs is the feel of Dazai’s smile pressed against his own.
——
It’s not until they get to the hotel that Chuuya starts to
The only thing Chuuya needs is the feel of Dazai’s smile pressed against his own.
——
It’s not until they get to the hotel that Chuuya starts to
get suspicious. He had guessed that Dazai had planned this trip out to the very last dinner date, and that guess had only been solidified when Dazai insisted he bring one of his fancier outfits, something he could only wear to an upscale restaurant without embarrassing himself.
Then, when they got to the hotel, he found out it was the /exact/ same room they had stayed in almost three years ago, before they had even officially got together. By now, it’s changed a bit— the sheets,the paintings on the wall, a refinished bathroom—but he would recognize that
mirror on the ceiling and that balcony anywhere.
Now, considering this hotel is fairly popular among businessmen and tourists alike, is it likely that they’d have the exact same room for both trips? Not out of the question, but it definitely seems like Dazai would’ve set up
Now, considering this hotel is fairly popular among businessmen and tourists alike, is it likely that they’d have the exact same room for both trips? Not out of the question, but it definitely seems like Dazai would’ve set up
in advance.
Not the man will /admit/ to it though. He’s just turned his nose up and blinked at him innocently whenever Chuuya asked. He’s denied every part of his involvement.
Then the /next/ suspicion is the fact that Dazai has been all over him. That’s not /too/ surprising
Not the man will /admit/ to it though. He’s just turned his nose up and blinked at him innocently whenever Chuuya asked. He’s denied every part of his involvement.
Then the /next/ suspicion is the fact that Dazai has been all over him. That’s not /too/ surprising
considering the man has been lovingly obsessed with him for over two years now, but there’s a certain extra edge to it that has Chuuya growing slowly suspicious. Their sex life has always been active, but now Dazai is insisting on hand-feeding Chuuya strawberries in bed and
holding his hand during the /entire/ trip to the aquarium, and taking his baths with him.
It’s not bad— it’s never bad to spend time with the love of his life, though it /might/ have been nice to not be tripping over him all the time— but it is a little suspicious. Especially
It’s not bad— it’s never bad to spend time with the love of his life, though it /might/ have been nice to not be tripping over him all the time— but it is a little suspicious. Especially
because he’s /hiding/ something in his luggage.
Not that Chuuya was snooping, but he went to look for something he thought he brought in Dazai’s bag, only to have his boyfriend hug his bag to chest while forcing him to promise to /not look/.
It’s weird. This whole thing is
Not that Chuuya was snooping, but he went to look for something he thought he brought in Dazai’s bag, only to have his boyfriend hug his bag to chest while forcing him to promise to /not look/.
It’s weird. This whole thing is
weird. Enough to make Chuuya feel like /he’s/ the one going crazy, even though he’s being perfectly normal.
Then the last night of their stay comes, and Dazai ushers him out the door looking particularly nervous. They’re going to dinner, and he won’t tell him /where/ they’re
Then the last night of their stay comes, and Dazai ushers him out the door looking particularly nervous. They’re going to dinner, and he won’t tell him /where/ they’re
going, and they look absurdly dressed up while taking the train. They’re not the only ones, but there are several people staring at them, and it’s making Chuuya itchy.
He doesn’t /want/ to be irritated with Dazai, but he’s been weird this whole trip, weird for the past few
He doesn’t /want/ to be irritated with Dazai, but he’s been weird this whole trip, weird for the past few
weeks, and honestly, he’s pretty damn over it. He went on this /entire/ trip with Dazai, made an excuse to miss his classes and to his friends, only for his boyfriend to act like he’s going to disappear if he isn’t holding his hand or doing something absurdly romantic /and/ he’s
not even going to give an explanation for his weird behavior?
Honestly, it’s just starting to piss Chuuya off. Like, why can’t he /know/ what’s in Dazai’s bag? Why does Dazai rapidly flip between looking horrendously nervous to like he can’t even look away from Chuuya because
Honestly, it’s just starting to piss Chuuya off. Like, why can’t he /know/ what’s in Dazai’s bag? Why does Dazai rapidly flip between looking horrendously nervous to like he can’t even look away from Chuuya because
he loves him too much.
It’s absurd, and it’s frustrating, and it’s /sneaky/, and as much as Chuuya was initially enjoying this vacation, now every time he looks at Dazai, he can only think—
What is he hiding?
He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts, turning over every word and
It’s absurd, and it’s frustrating, and it’s /sneaky/, and as much as Chuuya was initially enjoying this vacation, now every time he looks at Dazai, he can only think—
What is he hiding?
He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts, turning over every word and
action trying to figure out /why/ his boyfriend has been like this for the last few weeks, wondering if there’s something he missed— that he barely even registers that the restaurant they went to is the exact same restaurant they went to when they came to Osaka the first time.
He only picks up on it in his peripheral, idly wondering why most of the balcony seating is full and the restaurant looks extra festive tonight, with the rails wound in glittering strands of lights and a candle sitting in an elaborate holder in the middle of their table. Right
as he starts to notice that /hey/, the balcony seating looks a lot emptier than it probably should on a weekend evening, the waiter comes around to take their drink orders.
Before he can even say anything, or ask for more time (he’s been looking at the wine menu, but not really
Before he can even say anything, or ask for more time (he’s been looking at the wine menu, but not really
reading it, too wrapped up in his head), Dazai is looking up with a charming smile and ordering an entire bottle of ‘89 Petrus, and whiskey for himself.
The waiter nods and leaves while Chuuya is staring at Dazai in surprise. That’s an /expensive/ bottle— one of his favorites,
The waiter nods and leaves while Chuuya is staring at Dazai in surprise. That’s an /expensive/ bottle— one of his favorites,
and not something he often drinks. Not because he can’t afford it now— Dazai could buy him a hundred bottles if he wanted— but because he prefers to drink it as a celebration, not as one of his casual, everyday wines.
Plus, ordering the /entire/ bottle? Not just a glass?
Plus, ordering the /entire/ bottle? Not just a glass?
Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, he asks, “What’s the occasion?”
Two years of being in a relationship with Dazai means that his guileless, innocent smile no longer looks so innocent. “Can’t I just want to spoil you?”
“Sure,” he agrees, “and you do. But not like… this.”
Two years of being in a relationship with Dazai means that his guileless, innocent smile no longer looks so innocent. “Can’t I just want to spoil you?”
“Sure,” he agrees, “and you do. But not like… this.”
Which is absolutely true. Dazai /does/ spoil him, gets him outrageous gifts, takes him travelling, buys him whatever food Chuuya might be craving, cleans the house whenever he is too busy to do it, gives him massages, gives him /great/ sex. Truly, Chuuya has never felt so
pampered, loved and looked after in his life.
But it’s also not quite like this. This is unusual.
Pushed to his limit, Chuuya sets his palms down on the table and leans over to make eye contact with Dazai. He’s learned that the best way to make his boyfriend confess is to
But it’s also not quite like this. This is unusual.
Pushed to his limit, Chuuya sets his palms down on the table and leans over to make eye contact with Dazai. He’s learned that the best way to make his boyfriend confess is to
pin him down and hold him hostage until he finally admits to it. Since they’re in a restaurant, he can’t physically do that, but he can sure as hell stare him down. “What’s going on?”
Dazai looks /caught/, instantly wide-eyed and guilty. “What do you mean?”
Playing dumb has
Dazai looks /caught/, instantly wide-eyed and guilty. “What do you mean?”
Playing dumb has
never been Dazai’s forte, even if he does look unbearably cute when he’s trying to give him innocent eyes. “You /know/ what I mean. You’ve been acting weird for weeks now, and this whole trip you’ve been glued to my side and acting like I’m going to disappear if you’re not
looking at me. So what’s up? What’s going on?”
Dazai looks at him, and looks away again, one hand disappearing underneath the table to fiddle nervously with his pocket. “Nothing’s going on,” he says nervously, the liar, “I don’t know why you think that.”
Oh /really/? That’s
Dazai looks at him, and looks away again, one hand disappearing underneath the table to fiddle nervously with his pocket. “Nothing’s going on,” he says nervously, the liar, “I don’t know why you think that.”
Oh /really/? That’s
what he’s going to go with? ‘I don’t know’?
“Yes you do,” Chuuya tells him, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. If Dazai wants to /fight/ in this restaurant in their nice clothes, then that’s what they’ll do. “I’ve been asking you about it for /days/ and you’ve been
“Yes you do,” Chuuya tells him, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. If Dazai wants to /fight/ in this restaurant in their nice clothes, then that’s what they’ll do. “I’ve been asking you about it for /days/ and you’ve been
avoiding me and dodging the question. You know what I’m talking about.”
The waiter returns to their drinks then, conveniently giving Dazai an excuse to avoid the question again. He spends an entire minute carefully arranging where his whiskey sits on the table as he watches the
The waiter returns to their drinks then, conveniently giving Dazai an excuse to avoid the question again. He spends an entire minute carefully arranging where his whiskey sits on the table as he watches the
waiter pop open the wine bottle. It’s a show, as expected of a restaurant of this level, all elegant twists of the wrist and swirls of the aerator and seamless pouring into the glass.
Dazai watched it like he’s never seen a bottle of wine opened before, and Chuuya just stares
Dazai watched it like he’s never seen a bottle of wine opened before, and Chuuya just stares
at him the entire time, waiting for him to look back at him.
He doesn’t. Chuuya holds his silence until the waiter leaves the aerator on the table and takes his leave to give them more time to decide on their order.
Then he pinches the bridge of his nose, thoroughly frustrated
He doesn’t. Chuuya holds his silence until the waiter leaves the aerator on the table and takes his leave to give them more time to decide on their order.
Then he pinches the bridge of his nose, thoroughly frustrated
and upset and confused and just so, so done. After two years of being so good and getting along with Dazai so well, it feels so /wrong/ to go back to the time where they’re keeping secrets from eachother. Aren’t they partners?
“I just want to /know/,” he says, his voice
“I just want to /know/,” he says, his voice
embarrassingly thick with impeding tears. He’s always been an angry crier, to his eternal frustration. “I don’t know why you’re keeping it from me.”
There’s a second of silence that falls, a tension vibrating between them. Chuuya can feel Dazai’s gaze on him, but he can’t look
There’s a second of silence that falls, a tension vibrating between them. Chuuya can feel Dazai’s gaze on him, but he can’t look
at him right now, too busy trying to get himself together so he doesn’t start crying or screaming in the middle of this restaurant.
Maybe coming to dinner wasn’t a good idea. Maybe this entire trip wasn’t a good idea.
“Oh,” Dazai says softly, like he’s speaking to himself. For
Maybe coming to dinner wasn’t a good idea. Maybe this entire trip wasn’t a good idea.
“Oh,” Dazai says softly, like he’s speaking to himself. For
someone who has been asked a dozen times why he’s acting like this, he sounds very surprised that Chuuya is getting visibly upset about it now.
The fabric of Dazai’s suit— why he chose to wear that and a bolo tie just for dinner, Chuuya doesn’t know— rustles as he stands up.
The fabric of Dazai’s suit— why he chose to wear that and a bolo tie just for dinner, Chuuya doesn’t know— rustles as he stands up.
Looking down at the table, Chuuya can’t see where he goes— and the only thing he can think is where the /fuck/ is he going— but it doesn’t matter, because in the next second, he sees him kneel next to his chair out of the corner of his eye.
“Look at me, Chuuya,” he says. One of
“Look at me, Chuuya,” he says. One of
his hands comes up, tugging at the fabric of his pants despondently. He sounds whiny, soft, like he might beg if Chuuya won’t listen.
Petty, he doesn’t look over, tempted to turn his nose up in the air in response.
Dazai gives a sigh through his nose that sounds distinctly
Petty, he doesn’t look over, tempted to turn his nose up in the air in response.
Dazai gives a sigh through his nose that sounds distinctly
amused. “If you don’t look at me, I’m going to propose and make a scene.”
The words make a bell of familiarity ring in Chuuya’s head. Didn’t he say that /last/ time they were here, right before he asked him to be his boyfriend?
Despite himself, he can’t help but smile at the
The words make a bell of familiarity ring in Chuuya’s head. Didn’t he say that /last/ time they were here, right before he asked him to be his boyfriend?
Despite himself, he can’t help but smile at the
reminder. Dazai might be an asshole sometimes, but he is also incredibly sweet and thoughtful as well.
Unable to resist, he looks, and finds Dazai already on one knee. He’s got one hand on Chuuya’s knee, and he’s looking up at him with an adoring expression. The candlelight
Unable to resist, he looks, and finds Dazai already on one knee. He’s got one hand on Chuuya’s knee, and he’s looking up at him with an adoring expression. The candlelight
melts his eyes into something golden and sweet, like honey and wax, warm and inviting.
“There you are,” he murmurs, the gentle curve of his mouth impossibly softening further. Whatever mask he has been using the past fees seems abruptly gone, leaving him wide open. At this
“There you are,” he murmurs, the gentle curve of his mouth impossibly softening further. Whatever mask he has been using the past fees seems abruptly gone, leaving him wide open. At this
moment, he looks exactly like the man Chuuya knows and loves, the one he sees every day, the one he has come to know down to the bones.
“I’m sorry,” he starts, which isn’t exactly what Chuuya was expecting but is a very good start nonetheless. “I wasn’t trying to upset you or
“I’m sorry,” he starts, which isn’t exactly what Chuuya was expecting but is a very good start nonetheless. “I wasn’t trying to upset you or
make you sad. I’m just nervous, okay, and I just— I’m not good at this, and I wanted it to be perfect, so just bear with me, okay?”
Not good at what? Nervous about what? Chuuya stares at him, confused, wondering what he’s talking about and why he’s still kneeling in front of him
Not good at what? Nervous about what? Chuuya stares at him, confused, wondering what he’s talking about and why he’s still kneeling in front of him
and looking like he’s psyching himself up to do himself—
Wait. Wait a minute. Wait a /minute/, is he—
“Chuuya, I adore you,” Dazai says, taking a deep breath. “And you know that.”
He does. It’s probably one of the most commonly said things in their house. Dazai doesn’t
Wait. Wait a minute. Wait a /minute/, is he—
“Chuuya, I adore you,” Dazai says, taking a deep breath. “And you know that.”
He does. It’s probably one of the most commonly said things in their house. Dazai doesn’t
say ‘I love you’ very often, not in those exact words. He says ‘I adore you’ and ‘Have you eaten yet?’ and ‘I got you that food you liked’ and ‘You work so hard lately, won’t you take a nap with me?’. He says a million things, asks him and spoils him, and it all means the same
thing:
I love you, in every single language they have available to them, in silence and in words, in thoughts and in action.
Chuuya knows Dazai loves him, just as much as he loves him back. They’re partners, after all— they’re in this together, forever.
“I brought you here
I love you, in every single language they have available to them, in silence and in words, in thoughts and in action.
Chuuya knows Dazai loves him, just as much as he loves him back. They’re partners, after all— they’re in this together, forever.
“I brought you here
because… well, this place means something to me. To us. This might not be where we started—but this is where we finally started to understand each other. We started dating in this restaurant, and I’m never going to forget what you looked like when I asked, what you wearing, what
you said. I'm never going to forget anything about you, chibi."
Oh, oh he /is/. He has to be. There's no other explanation for what's happening, the speech, the way Dazai has been so weird lately, the nostalgic trip to Osaka, the way the balcony has been cleared of the other
Oh, oh he /is/. He has to be. There's no other explanation for what's happening, the speech, the way Dazai has been so weird lately, the nostalgic trip to Osaka, the way the balcony has been cleared of the other
customers, the way the table has been decorated and dressed up to be picture perfect, the way he ordered an entire bottle of Chuuya's favorite wine to celebrate with.
He should've known this was coming, should've noticed, should've known that Dazai was going to--
"I'm good at
He should've known this was coming, should've noticed, should've known that Dazai was going to--
"I'm good at
remembering things. It has been my job, for so long, to know everything. To know details about other people that they don’t even know about themselves.”
Dazai’s fingers creep up on his thigh, the span of his palm pressing against his leg like he’s trying to impress his speech
Dazai’s fingers creep up on his thigh, the span of his palm pressing against his leg like he’s trying to impress his speech
on him, trying to physically push it into his skin. He hasn’t looked away yet, has barely even blinked, staring at Chuuya like he’s the only thing worth looking at.
“But you… you /know/ me. You know me more than anyone else has known me, you know me more than I know myself.”
“But you… you /know/ me. You know me more than anyone else has known me, you know me more than I know myself.”
God, that's true, and sometimes Chuuya is struck by it too. He knows how he likes his coffee in the morning, and how his nose wrinkles in his sleep when he's on the verge of waking, and he still learns more everyday. Hoards all these tiny details close to his chest, always
collecting more.
It's the same way in reverse, and there's something sacred in the way Dazai knows him all the way to the bones. He could pour his soul into his hands, and he would be recognized on touch alone.
"I never thought I would have something like that. Like this, like
It's the same way in reverse, and there's something sacred in the way Dazai knows him all the way to the bones. He could pour his soul into his hands, and he would be recognized on touch alone.
"I never thought I would have something like that. Like this, like
/you/. Every day I wake up, and I am amazed that I get to see you for another day. I get to touch you, and keep you, and love you."
At this point, they've gained the attention of the others. Dazai's speech-- and it /is/ a speech, Chuuya can tell, the rhythm of it is something
At this point, they've gained the attention of the others. Dazai's speech-- and it /is/ a speech, Chuuya can tell, the rhythm of it is something
that has been practiced, even if he stumbles over some words and looks torn between heartbreakingly in love and worryingly nervous— isn’t loud, but he’s still down on one knee and he’s fumbling one-handed at his pocket like he think Chuuya can’t see it. The other patrons are
starting to whisper among themselves, eyeing up the scene. Two ladies are whispering to eachother behind their hands, their fingers wearing matching rings.
Chuuya stares at him, stares at all of them, and thinks—
Oh my god, this is really happening. It’s happening right /now/,
Chuuya stares at him, stares at all of them, and thinks—
Oh my god, this is really happening. It’s happening right /now/,
this is /it/. This is something he’s been dreaming of happening for /months/, has spoken of it in a dozen ‘when we get married’s, has always had this deep knowledge inside him that it would happen someday.
None of that, none of the dreaming or the believing or the planning, none
None of that, none of the dreaming or the believing or the planning, none
of it compares to the real thing. Partly because all of those were just dreams, which almost never compare to the real thing—
But also because this /isn’t/ perfect. Dazai is saying something and Chuuya can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears, the realization that has
But also because this /isn’t/ perfect. Dazai is saying something and Chuuya can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears, the realization that has
been striking him day after day, month after month--
Every time he thinks he cannot love this man more, somehow he manages it. All the frustration and confusion he was feeling only moments before abruptly drains away, leaving him shocked and awed and stunned and a thousand more
Every time he thinks he cannot love this man more, somehow he manages it. All the frustration and confusion he was feeling only moments before abruptly drains away, leaving him shocked and awed and stunned and a thousand more
adjectives that he doesn’t even have words for. None of that matters anymore. None of it matters, the only thing that matters is here and now and /Dazai/.
“I used to think that—,” Dazai continues.
Chuuya can’t help himself. He can’t /wait/, he’s not good at waiting. Excitement
“I used to think that—,” Dazai continues.
Chuuya can’t help himself. He can’t /wait/, he’s not good at waiting. Excitement
is pulsing through him so quickly it feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin, and there’s a question in Dazai’s speech somewhere, and all he can think is yes, yes, /yes/—
“Yes,” he blurts out, cutting his boyfriend off mid-sentence.
There’s a second where Dazai is
“Yes,” he blurts out, cutting his boyfriend off mid-sentence.
There’s a second where Dazai is
blinking up at him, looking confused and off-kilter, like he wasn’t expecting Chuuya to interrupt him. And Chuuya himself wasn’t /trying/ to interrupt him, it just spilled out of him without his consent, and now they’re just staring at each other, waiting for the other to keep
talking, and oh god, didn’t Chuuya mess it up?
“Chibi,” says Dazai after a long, awkward moment, trying to keep his voice stern even though he can see the smile fighting to form at the corners of his mouth. “I had a speech and everything, and you’re not going to let me finish?”
“Chibi,” says Dazai after a long, awkward moment, trying to keep his voice stern even though he can see the smile fighting to form at the corners of his mouth. “I had a speech and everything, and you’re not going to let me finish?”
Dazai’s hand finally slides out of his pocket, and with the angle, he can’t /see/ anything, but it’s obvious he’s holding something out of view.
“Oh,” he mutters, waving his free hand at Dazai to encourage him to continue. “My bad, keep going.”
Not that he /needs/ it; he
“Oh,” he mutters, waving his free hand at Dazai to encourage him to continue. “My bad, keep going.”
Not that he /needs/ it; he
could've been handed a ring with a simple question like 'let's get married?' and he would've said yes in a heartbeat. He doesn't need the heartwrenching speech because he already /knows/ how much Dazai loves him--
But if Dazai wants to prove it again with a romantic speech,
But if Dazai wants to prove it again with a romantic speech,
then by all means. He'll commit it to memory and never forget it.
"Well now I don't wanna do it," Dazai whines, his tendency towards being childish as petty as it is endearing, "You /interrupted/ me, how do I even know you want the speech? You already said yes and you don't even
"Well now I don't wanna do it," Dazai whines, his tendency towards being childish as petty as it is endearing, "You /interrupted/ me, how do I even know you want the speech? You already said yes and you don't even
know what I'm asking you!"
To be fair, it's pretty obvious what's happening and Chuuya is smart enough to put it all together, but he did get a little too excited too quickly, that's for sure. "I won't interrupt again, I promise."
Dazai pouts up at him, and he's having /way/
To be fair, it's pretty obvious what's happening and Chuuya is smart enough to put it all together, but he did get a little too excited too quickly, that's for sure. "I won't interrupt again, I promise."
Dazai pouts up at him, and he's having /way/
too much fun with this, he can tell. “I forgot where I was though, so now I’m going to have to start all over and I really don’t think it’s going to have the same effect the second time around—“
Frustrated and feeling like he’s about to burst with how in love he is, Chuuya
Frustrated and feeling like he’s about to burst with how in love he is, Chuuya
reaches out and grabs Dazai. His fingers sink into both cheeks, making his mouth squish together comically as he drags him up.
Always so willing to go wherever Chuuya asks, Dazai lets himself be hauled upwards. One hand comes up to brace himself on the table, rising to a
Always so willing to go wherever Chuuya asks, Dazai lets himself be hauled upwards. One hand comes up to brace himself on the table, rising to a
half-kneeling position hovering over him.
With a jerk of his head, Chuuya kisses him. Hard, sudden, not letting him move and also not letting it deepen before he’s pulling away just as suddenly. If they weren’t in public, maybe he would’ve bitten Dazai for being so ridiculous.
With a jerk of his head, Chuuya kisses him. Hard, sudden, not letting him move and also not letting it deepen before he’s pulling away just as suddenly. If they weren’t in public, maybe he would’ve bitten Dazai for being so ridiculous.
As it is, he just gives him a quick kiss to shut him up, before he pulls back just far enough to look him in the eye. “Give me the damn speech, Osamu.”
From this close, Dazai’s eyes are more gold than brown, the pupils deep and endless in the low lighting. “Okay,” he breathes,
From this close, Dazai’s eyes are more gold than brown, the pupils deep and endless in the low lighting. “Okay,” he breathes,
all of that playful childishness draining away.
Chuuya still doesn’t let him pull away, holding him firm with his fingers wrapped around his jaw. He wants to hear every word of Dazai’s speech up close and personal, a whisper against his lips, so he can taste and feel every
Chuuya still doesn’t let him pull away, holding him firm with his fingers wrapped around his jaw. He wants to hear every word of Dazai’s speech up close and personal, a whisper against his lips, so he can taste and feel every
syllable as it forms.
After all, this moment is for /them/. Other people might watch and whisper and gossip among themselves about this, but all that truly matters is the space between them.
“I used to think that everything I could ever want would be lost the moment I obtain
After all, this moment is for /them/. Other people might watch and whisper and gossip among themselves about this, but all that truly matters is the space between them.
“I used to think that everything I could ever want would be lost the moment I obtain
it,” Dazai says, and it’s not the worst confession he’s made but Chuuya’s heart always breaks when he remembers how depressed he used to be. “So I tried to never want anything ever again. I didn’t realize that I didn’t know what want /really/ was until I met you.
“You make me
“You make me
want again. You make me want to be /alive/ again, you make me want to stay and grow old, and have a good life. You make me want to keep going.”
For someone like Dazai—who has never really been afraid to talk about his mental health, even when he usually wraps it up in jokes and
For someone like Dazai—who has never really been afraid to talk about his mental health, even when he usually wraps it up in jokes and
laughs and quips— an admission like that means more than anything. For someone like Dazai, who has professed to wanting to die for almost as long as he’s been alive, that’s a confession bigger than love.
“I know we’ve talked about it offhand, but I wanted to do this right. You
“I know we’ve talked about it offhand, but I wanted to do this right. You
deserve the best from me, always. I’m never better than I am with you, and there’s nothing else I’d rather do for the rest of my life than giving you my everything,” Dazai says, his weight shifting backwards to compensate for his other hand coming up. The box he balances on his
thigh is small and unassuming, the dark velvet of it understated.
Nestled inside are two rings. They’re both exquisitely simple, devoid of huge gems. One of them is made of shiny gold-chrome with a band of silver running through the middle; the other is the opposite, mostly
Nestled inside are two rings. They’re both exquisitely simple, devoid of huge gems. One of them is made of shiny gold-chrome with a band of silver running through the middle; the other is the opposite, mostly
silver with a band of gold. Neither of them are gaudy in terms of jewels, but the middle band is delicately and exquisitely carved with swirling patterns that look almost like gusts of clouds.
From this angle,the light hints at another carving etched on the inside of the rings;
From this angle,the light hints at another carving etched on the inside of the rings;
the kanji for Chuuya’s name on the mostly silver one, and Dazai’s name on the mostly gold.
There’s no date carved onto the inside from what he can see, something that Chuuya finds fitting. There are so many significant days in their relationship, each one different and as
There’s no date carved onto the inside from what he can see, something that Chuuya finds fitting. There are so many significant days in their relationship, each one different and as
important as the last. If he was asked, he could never just pick one as the most important, and the idea that Dazai might feel the same makes his heart melt.
“So, Chuuya,” Dazai says softly, the hush of his voice sounding like worship in the flickering flame light, “Will you
“So, Chuuya,” Dazai says softly, the hush of his voice sounding like worship in the flickering flame light, “Will you
be one of the very few things in my life that isn’t lost as soon as I obtain it? Will you marry me?”
When Chuuya was young, his head used to be filled with elaborate, fantastic dreams. He watched so many movies—both foreign and Japanese— and was told so many stories about his
When Chuuya was young, his head used to be filled with elaborate, fantastic dreams. He watched so many movies—both foreign and Japanese— and was told so many stories about his
mother and father and their fairytale love. His head has been so full of dreams about his wedding, how he would be proposed to, his life as a married man and a parent.
This, what he has here and now, is not what he dreamed of. It’s not something young Chuuya would’ve scribbled
This, what he has here and now, is not what he dreamed of. It’s not something young Chuuya would’ve scribbled
in his not-so-secret dream journal. Maybe it’s not even something that movie producers would look at twice, not a story that would ever make it’s way onto the shelves of a bookstore.
But you know what? He doesn’t need any of those fairytales. Because what he has is so much
But you know what? He doesn’t need any of those fairytales. Because what he has is so much
better than any movie or book or story.
Because what he has is /real/. His love story is real, and it’s unfolding right here in front of him. His love story is kneeling right in front of him with eyes full of golden light, waiting for his answer.
Of course, he only ever has
Because what he has is /real/. His love story is real, and it’s unfolding right here in front of him. His love story is kneeling right in front of him with eyes full of golden light, waiting for his answer.
Of course, he only ever has
one answer for a question like this:
“Yes.”
It feels just as right saying it the second time. After all, they always have better luck with things on the second time, right?
Dazai’s smile is the biggest he’s ever seen it, all shiny teeth and crinkled eyes and the single
“Yes.”
It feels just as right saying it the second time. After all, they always have better luck with things on the second time, right?
Dazai’s smile is the biggest he’s ever seen it, all shiny teeth and crinkled eyes and the single
dimple on the left side, the one Chuuya doesn’t get to see often and feels like he’s won a prize every time he does.
Happiness isn’t always an obvious look on Osamu. Sometimes it’s hard to see, and it takes a bit of looking for Chuuya to recognize it.
But right now, anyone
Happiness isn’t always an obvious look on Osamu. Sometimes it’s hard to see, and it takes a bit of looking for Chuuya to recognize it.
But right now, anyone
could see how happy he is. He practically glows with it.
The hand he kept on Dazai’s jaw to keep him close is put to good use; with another tug, gentle and sweet, Chuuya pulls him and seals the question with a kiss.
Over the years, they’ve shared thousands of kisses. Good
The hand he kept on Dazai’s jaw to keep him close is put to good use; with another tug, gentle and sweet, Chuuya pulls him and seals the question with a kiss.
Over the years, they’ve shared thousands of kisses. Good
morning kisses, kisses for good dreams, kisses over breakfast, kisses as hello, for goodbye, for ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’ and ‘have fun when you go out’ and ‘I want you’ and so many other things that it’s almost become it’s own language. Chuuya can tell Dazai’s mood based on
how long he kisses him for, if he presses a smile to his cheek before he pulls away, if he absentmindedly drops a kiss on his forehead as he walks by, if he bites or sucks or nibbles.
Right now, this is the clearest, most heartwarming kiss they’ve shared so far— because this one
Right now, this is the clearest, most heartwarming kiss they’ve shared so far— because this one
means forever. This one is a promise and a commitment rolled into one, this one is proof of how far they’ve come and how far they still have left to go.
This kiss is for the future.
He doesn’t know how long they sit there, kissing and kissing and kissing. It’s not obscene or
This kiss is for the future.
He doesn’t know how long they sit there, kissing and kissing and kissing. It’s not obscene or
even very passionate. There’s no tongue, just the feel of their lips sliding together over and over again, thrilling in the feel of lips that have become so familiar and loved, feeling like it’s new again, feeling everything over. Chuuya holds Dazai’s cheeks in his palms, letting
his thumbs stroke skin that he swears he would be able to recognize on touch alone over and over again.
Officially and unofficially, Dazai has been his for a long time. Over two years together in many ways, both of them growing together more and more, learning secrets about
Officially and unofficially, Dazai has been his for a long time. Over two years together in many ways, both of them growing together more and more, learning secrets about
eachother, learning about themselves in a way that can only be done through someone else. They’ve tied themselves together and now everyone’s going to be able to see it, now it’s permanent and binding.
It’s /real/, something tangible that he can show to someone else, proof that
It’s /real/, something tangible that he can show to someone else, proof that
he can wear on his finger and look at whatever he wants.
Surprisingly, Dazai breaks the kiss first. He leans back a little, bracing himself on Chuuya’s thigh and pulls back far enough that his lips just barely brush over his when he speaks. “But we won’t be able to do a /proper/
Surprisingly, Dazai breaks the kiss first. He leans back a little, bracing himself on Chuuya’s thigh and pulls back far enough that his lips just barely brush over his when he speaks. “But we won’t be able to do a /proper/
wedding,” he says, a trickle of amusement showing in the quirk of his lips, “seeing as I don’t legally exist anymore and all that.”
For some reason that sends Chuuya over the edge, and he immediately bursts into laughter. His chest is so full with warmth and light and happiness
For some reason that sends Chuuya over the edge, and he immediately bursts into laughter. His chest is so full with warmth and light and happiness
that he feels overflowing with it, unable to do anything but laugh and laugh and laugh. Everything feels so /good/ right now, even the smell in the restaurant sweeter than it was five minutes ago.
Every detail of this moment is seared into his head— the muted light of the
Every detail of this moment is seared into his head— the muted light of the
candles, the chandelier hanging prettily inside, the shocked murmurs of the crowd dissolving into something vaguely celebratory, the smell of his favorite wine in the air, the feel of the ring as he lets Dazai slide it on his finger for the first time,the slight tremor in Dazai’s
hand as he returns the favor for his boyfriend.
No, his /fiancé/ now and his husband soon, and the love of his life /forever/. He gets to keep him and be kept by him for the rest of their life.
Dazai’s fingers have always looked elegant with rings; they’re long and slender,
No, his /fiancé/ now and his husband soon, and the love of his life /forever/. He gets to keep him and be kept by him for the rest of their life.
Dazai’s fingers have always looked elegant with rings; they’re long and slender,
talented and dexterous. They’re hands that have made Chuuya laugh and cry and moan, and now they look so /good/ and natural with the ring nestled on his third finger. It fits perfectly, the perfect shade of silver to set off Dazai’s cooler complexion.
It looks like it was meant
It looks like it was meant
to go there. Like Dazai was shaped from the beginning to be committed to Chuuya, like he was born to wear this ring, like he was destined to end up here, like there was no other option for him, not even once.
He likes the look of it there. Likes it even better when he threads
He likes the look of it there. Likes it even better when he threads
their fingers together. The rings slide together with a muted clink, settling together naturally.
“That’s fine,” Chuuya giggles back, because it’s not the piece of government paper declaring their marriage that he really cares about. It’s about the /gesture/, about the
“That’s fine,” Chuuya giggles back, because it’s not the piece of government paper declaring their marriage that he really cares about. It’s about the /gesture/, about the
symbolism, about coming together in front of their friends and family, about being able to look at the ring on his hand when it’s all said and done and being able to call Dazai his husband.
Besides, he’s known for a while— Dazai isn’t perfect. There’s a lot of ways that he isn’t
Besides, he’s known for a while— Dazai isn’t perfect. There’s a lot of ways that he isn’t
like ‘normal’ people, and accepting that part of him means accepting the parts of him that aren’t as easy to handle. The fact that Dazai can’t use his legal name without alerting the authorities looking for him is a hassle, sometimes, but they’ve worked around it. Hell, Chuuya
would sign a marriage certificate saying he married one of Dazai’s aliases if that’s what was necessary.
They’ll figure it out; they always do. Maybe it takes them some time, maybe they stumble along the way, maybe they take a wrong turn here and there, but they always end up
They’ll figure it out; they always do. Maybe it takes them some time, maybe they stumble along the way, maybe they take a wrong turn here and there, but they always end up
where they were meant to be in the end.
Chuuya allows himself to kiss his fiancé— his /fiancé/!!!— one more time before he urges him back into his seat. While he’s not opposed to making a scene, he doesn’t want to get them kicked out for excessive displays, and if Dazai remains
Chuuya allows himself to kiss his fiancé— his /fiancé/!!!— one more time before he urges him back into his seat. While he’s not opposed to making a scene, he doesn’t want to get them kicked out for excessive displays, and if Dazai remains
within kissing distance, he might not stop. Enough people are already staring at them.
Dazai goes willingly enough, and he doesn’t even try to make a show of pouting and whining. The grin on his face hasn’t faded a bit, and his cheeks are starting to flush red with excitement.
Dazai goes willingly enough, and he doesn’t even try to make a show of pouting and whining. The grin on his face hasn’t faded a bit, and his cheeks are starting to flush red with excitement.
Of all the ways Chuuya has seen him, in every situation with every expression, he thinks this might be his favorite. He wishes he could commit this to memory, inscribe it so he’ll never forget.
“You were really acting weird for /weeks/ because you were trying to propose?” He
“You were really acting weird for /weeks/ because you were trying to propose?” He
asks in disbelief, all the weird instances he's noticed rising up in his mind and looking different in a new light. Dazai being strange about his internet history, that one time Kouyou insisted they go jewelry shopping together and having an unusual fixation on the rings, the way
his father has called him once a week and asked him if he had any news.
Chuuya might not be the smartest man in the room, but once he has enough information, he can connect all the dots. “Did /everyone/ know except me?”
Dazai makes a sound like he’s embarrassed, taking a quick
Chuuya might not be the smartest man in the room, but once he has enough information, he can connect all the dots. “Did /everyone/ know except me?”
Dazai makes a sound like he’s embarrassed, taking a quick
sip of his drink. “I was nervous!” He whines, “and I tried getting help from your family but all they did was make me more nervous. I swear your dad was about to challenge me to a duel for your honor, and that’s if your sister didn’t bully me out of existence first.”
The
The
relationship between Kouyou and Dazai is an…interesting one. Kouyou has seemingly appointed herself as the eldest sibling even when it comes to her siblings-in-law, even though she’s almost a decade younger than Dazai. She takes her duty very seriously too, mercilessly teasing
and picking on him until he looks torn between dramatically crying about it or getting genuinely offended about it. Dazai has only ever been an only child and he never quite knows a lovingly-bullying older sibling.
Family dinners are always a fun event.
But while Kouyou might
Family dinners are always a fun event.
But while Kouyou might
revel in her ability to be an I mitages asshole to Dazai when he can’t really fight back, she doesn’t actually /hate/ him anymore.
They’re reluctant allies, now. Enough that she’ll help him scheme against Chuuya. The thought makes him grin.
Dazai’s really part of the family.
They’re reluctant allies, now. Enough that she’ll help him scheme against Chuuya. The thought makes him grin.
Dazai’s really part of the family.
Not just the tiny family they’re building between them, but also the family Chuuya already has. He belongs there, just as much as Chuuya does.
“Besides, I needed some help,” Dazai continues, something he would’ve never have admitted to two years ago. “You’re really hard to keep
“Besides, I needed some help,” Dazai continues, something he would’ve never have admitted to two years ago. “You’re really hard to keep
secrets from. You’re a suspicious little chibi, you know that?”
That’s… unfortunately true. It’s probably a remnant of being the youngest child, and therefore often left out, and so he has a problem with being a little /too/ nosy. Not that Dazai doesn’t deserve some suspicion
That’s… unfortunately true. It’s probably a remnant of being the youngest child, and therefore often left out, and so he has a problem with being a little /too/ nosy. Not that Dazai doesn’t deserve some suspicion
every once in a while, the sneaky man that he is, but he can’t deny that he’s naturally a suspicious person. “You didn’t /have/ to sneak around, you know. Haven’t I already said that I’d marry you?”
“Well, sure,” Dazai brushes that off with a wave of his hand, sitting up so he
“Well, sure,” Dazai brushes that off with a wave of his hand, sitting up so he
can flag down the water and order them some actual food. “But it had to be /perfect/.”
Chuuya doesn’t know how he’s going to eat when he feels overfull with love and affection and fond irritation for this man. “No it didn’t. I would marry you anywhere, in any way. Did you really
Chuuya doesn’t know how he’s going to eat when he feels overfull with love and affection and fond irritation for this man. “No it didn’t. I would marry you anywhere, in any way. Did you really
think I was going to say no?”
Like he could ever say no to him, like that was even a thought that could occur.
The look Dazai gives him is something between looking caught out and mulish. “No,” he grumbles, in a way that makes it obvious that he considered the notion at least
Like he could ever say no to him, like that was even a thought that could occur.
The look Dazai gives him is something between looking caught out and mulish. “No,” he grumbles, in a way that makes it obvious that he considered the notion at least
once.
The waiter comes by then, saving Dazai from any further questioning. Which is good for him, because Chuuya feels like he’s brimming over with questions, wanting to know every little thought that Dazai had when he was considering and planning all of this. What plans he made
The waiter comes by then, saving Dazai from any further questioning. Which is good for him, because Chuuya feels like he’s brimming over with questions, wanting to know every little thought that Dazai had when he was considering and planning all of this. What plans he made
when he started, why he chose /this/, what rings he looked at,what he said to his family,how long he’s been planning this, where he wants to get married—
That simple thought strikes him a mallet to a gong, ringing clear and sudden and all-encompassing. They’re getting /married/.
That simple thought strikes him a mallet to a gong, ringing clear and sudden and all-encompassing. They’re getting /married/.
Like for real and /forever/ married. There’s a ring on his finger, customized for him!
When the waiter turns to him to get his order, he just chooses the first thing he sees on the menu. He’s not picky, and right now, he could eat dirt and it would still taste like gold and
When the waiter turns to him to get his order, he just chooses the first thing he sees on the menu. He’s not picky, and right now, he could eat dirt and it would still taste like gold and
fairytale endings. He could eat anything, and it would still taste delicious because it was eaten with the man he loves.
He takes a sip of his wine, holding it on his tongue until he has the flavor memorized. It was his favorite before, but now it has so much more meaning and
He takes a sip of his wine, holding it on his tongue until he has the flavor memorized. It was his favorite before, but now it has so much more meaning and
symbolism than before. He’s going to remember this taste forever; he’ll never be able to drink Petrus ‘89 without thinking of /them/ again. It will always be the taste of partnership and love and commitment to him.
“You should probably call your family,” Dazai says when the
“You should probably call your family,” Dazai says when the
waiter disappears with their orders. “Kouyou said she’ll kill me if I chickened out again.”
/Again?/ How many times has he planned to pop the question and didn’t go through with it? How many times has Chuuya spent time with Dazai, all the while never knowing that his boyfriend
/Again?/ How many times has he planned to pop the question and didn’t go through with it? How many times has Chuuya spent time with Dazai, all the while never knowing that his boyfriend
was thinking about the rest of their lives?
Chuuya narrows his eyes at him. “How long have you been thinking about this?”
On his part, he’s only been seriously considering the idea of marriage for a few months now. Has he had daydreams of their marriage before that? Yes. Has
Chuuya narrows his eyes at him. “How long have you been thinking about this?”
On his part, he’s only been seriously considering the idea of marriage for a few months now. Has he had daydreams of their marriage before that? Yes. Has
he had the casual thoughts of 'when they're married'? Yes. Has he been waking up everyday with the soul-deep certainty that what they have is forever, that he'll be going to sleep and waking up by the same man for the rest of his life? Yes. Does he have pinterest boards dedicated
to what their future homes and lives could look like? Obviously.
But he hasn't truly considered the idea and all it's intricacies until a few months ago. What it would look like, what it would feel like, how they'd navigate it.
"Like two years," Dazai admits casually, like he's
But he hasn't truly considered the idea and all it's intricacies until a few months ago. What it would look like, what it would feel like, how they'd navigate it.
"Like two years," Dazai admits casually, like he's
not dropping a bomb on him, like that's not a shock.
"But," Chuuya gapes at him, "That's like...our entire relationship?"
The smile Dazai aims at him is small and heartfelt, the exact kind of smile he gets in lazy early mornings in bed. "Well," he says, shrugging helplessly,
"But," Chuuya gapes at him, "That's like...our entire relationship?"
The smile Dazai aims at him is small and heartfelt, the exact kind of smile he gets in lazy early mornings in bed. "Well," he says, shrugging helplessly,
“I knew you were the one a while ago. It was over for me as soon as I saw that horrible student photo”— Chuuya groans at this, because Dazai has /never/ let that go and he keeps reminding him about it, and he even laughs at his new photo for his ID, which is somehow even worse
than the first one— “and that was it. It took me a while to realize it, but it’s only ever been you, Chuuya. You’ve always been my future, even when I was stuck in the past.”
Sliding his hand over the table and wiggling his fingers until Dazai gets the message and interlaces
Sliding his hand over the table and wiggling his fingers until Dazai gets the message and interlaces
their fingers together on top of the table. He squeezes hard, until he’s sure the imprint of Dazai’s ring will be left on his skin as well. “You’ve always been my future too.”
That’s the thing, isn’t it? He’s always been running /toward/ Dazai. Even when he thought he was
That’s the thing, isn’t it? He’s always been running /toward/ Dazai. Even when he thought he was
running towards college, where he would study hard and then maybe swindle his sister into giving him a reference with her finance company, that would’ve still led him to Dazai. He would’ve found his way here eventually, even if it hadn’t been like this. Dazai was always in his
future, even when he didn’t know it yet.
“I know, chibi,” Dazai says, giving him a heart-warming squeeze back even when his grin grows to something smug and self-satisfied, a look that always gives Chuuya dread because it means—, “After all, you’ve always needed someone to
“I know, chibi,” Dazai says, giving him a heart-warming squeeze back even when his grin grows to something smug and self-satisfied, a look that always gives Chuuya dread because it means—, “After all, you’ve always needed someone to
reach the top shelf for you, right?”
Ah, there it is, right on time. The short joke. Honestly, Chuuya doesn’t know why he’s so obsessed with those, considering it stopped truly bothering him over a year ago, but Dazai finds them absolutely hilarious. Playing his part, he aims a
Ah, there it is, right on time. The short joke. Honestly, Chuuya doesn’t know why he’s so obsessed with those, considering it stopped truly bothering him over a year ago, but Dazai finds them absolutely hilarious. Playing his part, he aims a
soft kick at his shin, the smile on his face refusing to budge. “It’s a good thing I have you to do that for me for the rest of our lives then, huh?”
Dazai smiles again. He hasn’t stopped since Chuuya said /yes/, but it grows and fades in bursts. “Yeah. It is.”
Their orders
Dazai smiles again. He hasn’t stopped since Chuuya said /yes/, but it grows and fades in bursts. “Yeah. It is.”
Their orders
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