Thread by @quirkzone

✨rich man's whore✨

skk | explicit | 8.6k

#BottomDazaiWeek entry for day 1: sex toys & body worship!

dazai wants to try something new with chuuya, but it doesn't go quite the way he expects

@bottomdazaiweek

tags in the next tweet!

tags:

-semi-public sex
-vibrator
-phone sex
-subdrop
-body worship
-degradation
-dom/sub dynamics
-crying
-aftercare

Dazai has been acting strange all morning. He's /actually/ doing his paperwork, to start. Atsushi glances over at him, typing frantically on his phone.

After a moment of staring intently at the screen, his shoulders droop, a sweet smile turning his lips.

Atsushi has /never/

seen him smile like that before. He leans over, but Dazai puts his phone down and starts /more/ paperwork.

"Um...are you alright, Dazai-san?" he asks. Dazai turns to him with a cheery grin. His cheeks are a bit flushed, though and he looks like he’s sweating. His coat is draped

over his lap and his leg is bouncing quickly.

“I’m great, Atsushi-kun! Thank you for asking.”

“Um, sure, but are you sick or something?”

“Why would you think that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. Atsushi frowns.

“Well...you look flushed and you’re doing /paperwork/.”

“Oh!” Dazai waves a flippant hand toward Atsushi, shaking his head. “Chuuya promised to give me a reward if I did all my paperwork.”

(Dazai does not see Kunikida silently adding “Buy Port Mafia Executive Chuuya Nakahara a Fruit Basket” to his schedule. But if he /had/ he would

relish in Kunikida not knowing what /exactly/ he was thanking Chuuya for.)

“Why would he do that?” Atsushi asks. What could Chuuya even /gain/ by making Dazai do paperwork at the Agency? Dazai sighs, flopping over his desk dramatically.

“He doesn’t want me to get /fired/,”

Dazai says. As far as Atsushi knows, that would never happen over some /reports/. But before he can ask any further questions, Dazai is making a muffled yelp and sitting up quickly.

He scrambles for his phone and whimpers. He huffs, leg bouncing again. Atsushi decides that

there isn’t anything can do, so he turns to his own desk.

Dazai, meanwhile, is going /insane/. The vibrator is pressed /right/ against his prostate and the pulsing vibrations are setting his body on fire. But he can’t make a noise, he can’t make it /obvious/.

But just the risk

that someone could find out what he’s doing is thrilling. Well…

He looks up to glance at Ranpo, who shoots him a devilish smirk before opening a new bag of snacks.

The risk of anyone /else/ finding out is thrilling. And looking at his phone makes it worse but he can’t /stop/.

[slug🥰]: Time’s up.

[slug🥰]: What did you finish?

[dazai]: atsushi asked me a question!! let me try again :(

Suddenly, the vibrations get more intense and he clenches his jaw. It’s so good it’s /perfect/ and then it /stops/. He bites back a /whine/.

[slug🥰]: I don’t remember saying there were any second chances.

[slug🥰]: Get to work.

[dazai]: i am i am im sorry :(

[slug🥰]: Make it up to me by doing your work.

Dazai pouts as his knees rub together under the desk. The vibrations are coming back, just a low buzz, easy

to ignore. He would be able to /just/ do his work if Chuuya wasn’t /trying/ to make him fail.

[slug🥰]: Are you imagining that toy is my cock, Osamu?

Let it be known that Chuuya Nakahara is /evil/.

[slug🥰]: Are you thinking about me taking you on your desk when you should

be working?

[slug🥰]: Or maybe you want me to take you on my desk? So the entire Port Mafia can know what a little slut you are for me?

[slug🥰]: Would you like that? Having all my subordinates know that I'm the only one that can make you scream like that?

[slug🥰]: Do you want Mori to hear you moaning my name like a whore? The demon prodigy falling to pieces on my cock?

Dazai stares hard at the paperwork in front of him. Even if he wasn't thinking about those things he definitely is /now/.

He didn't know he was an exhibitionist

forgot to add the following tags!!

-safe word use
-exhibitionism

before he and Chuuya had their reconciliation after the Shibusawa incident. But /now/ he's letting Chuuya play with a vibrator pushed /right/ against his prostate at /work/. With the caveat that he's not allowed to cum.

And if he /does/, Chuuya said he would get /punished/.

Which, shockingly, is not on his agenda for the week.

So clearly the stakes are high.

But Chuuya makes it so/ hard/. He's been teased for hours at this point and he wants to cum so badly he's prepared to /beg/.

He waits until everyone leaves for lunch, waving them off when

they invite him. He /insists/ that he just wants to get his paperwork done. They all reluctantly agree and soon he's alone in the agency. He has /maybe/ an hour.

He gets to work right away.

[dazai]: chuuya i wanna cum

[slug🥰]: You want to cum?

[slug🥰]: You want to cum in the middle of your office? Where everyone could see?

[slug🥰]: You want them to know that you're such a dirty whore you couldn't wait a day for me to fuck you? That you begged me to deny you an orgasm all day?

[slug🥰]: You want the agency to find

out that you've been imagining me fucking you in the middle of the office all day? That you're a slut for my cock and you'd do anything to get it?

[dazai]: please please please chuuya

[slug🥰]: Is that how you ask for what you want?

Dazai takes a slow breath through his nose

and let's it out. He can do this.

[dazai]: please daddy?

[slug🥰]: That's my good boy.

Dazai preens at the praise. It feels so good when Chuuya praises him but all he wants is /more/ when he does.

[slug🥰]: But no. You're not allowed to cum until you have my cock inside you.

/That/ thought has him trembling again. The vibrations ramp up as well and he grips his desk for support. He's so /fucking close/. He pictures his /reward/. If he's good and listens, then Chuuya will fuck him against a wall.

He just needs to think about what he gets if he's

/good/. He can be good. He can be so good.

The vibrations are impossible to ignore now, taking over his thoughts and pushing him toward the edge so fast he doesn't know how to stop it.

But then it stops. All stimulation is just /gone/ and Dazai feels his eyes sting. /Fuck/.

He wants to be good. He wants Chuuya to praise him and call him a good boy and shut his brain off for a while. But this is so /much/.

They haven't done /this/ before. He wanted to try it, but he didn't realize how hard it would be or how much Chuuya would /torture/ him.

He can make it stop. He just has to send one word and Chuuya will call him and be sweet and check on him and let him cum. Because Chuuya is /perfect/.

But Dazai wants to /win/. And that's not healthy, no, but Chuuya can't see him and /make/ him stop like he does sometimes

during sex. When Dazai pushes himself too far because he thinks he /deserves/ it. To be punished and pushed past his limits.

He wants to be the /best/ for Chuuya.

But if Chuuya found out he /thought/ about it and /didn't/ do it he'll be pissed and withhold sex indefinitely.

That's worse.

[dazai]: yellow

The vibrator turns off immediately and the relief is blinding. He slumps over onto his desk. It feels like defeat.

[Incoming Call: slug🥰]

Dazai answers immediately. Chuuya's voice is calm and concerned and gentle and Dazai pouts.

"Tell me what's going on, beautiful," he says.

"It's just a lot," Dazai says. "I-I just need a break."

"Are the texts or the toy too much?"

He /hates/ admitting it.

"Both…"

"Okay," Chuuya says easily. "Do you want to stop until you get home?"

There are /so many hours/ before then.

"No! Just...just give me half an hour."

"You don't need to push yourself, Osamu. It makes me happy when you tell me your limits."

That /does/ make him feel better, even as the clawing need to be /perfect/ swarms just below the surface.

"But you were having fun," he says petulantly. Chuuya clicks his tongue and Dazai can /picture/ him rolling his eyes.

"This isn't about me. If you're not having fun then neither am I."

"I can do it," Dazai insists. His cock is /aching/ between his legs and he still wants to

cum so badly he might faint. But he wants to prove that he can do it.

"I know you /can/, beautiful. Do you /want/ to?"

"I want to keep my promise."

"That's not what I asked."

Dazai considers it. There is a lot of time between now and getting to see Chuuya tonight. The idea

of doing /this/ is at least /something/. To keep him from going crazy at the thought of everything he wants Chuuya to do to him.

It's Friday, so the promise of two days of nearly uninterrupted sex whenever he wants churns in his gut. Chuuya wouldn't take that away because he

used his safe words.

But Dazai still hasn't /quite/ grasped the concept that he doesn't need to be punished because he has physical limits. Much to Chuuya's dismay and constant reassurance.

"I want to," Dazai says. And it's /true/.

Chuuya hums. His voice is so /soothing/.

"Okay," he says. "I'll give you an hour. No buts."

Dazai shuts his mouth as he was about to protest. "Do you want me to keep sending the texts? I can make them less intense."

"I /like/ the texts," Dazai grumbles. Chuuya laughs at the tone.

"Okay, whatever you want."

"I /want/ you to come down here and /take me/, but the texts are good enough for now."

"Osamu, I'm not gonna fuck you in front of your coworkers."

"Chibi's so /mean/ to me," Dazai whines. The overwhelming need to be held floods him when Chuuya coos at him.

"Poor /baby/,"

he says. "I just don't want /anyone/ else to hear the noises you make for me. Those are /mine/."

"That's not fair," Dazai whines.

"What's not fair?"

"Chuuya keeps turning me on but I'm not allowed to cum."

"You can cum, baby," Chuuya says easily. "You won't be in trouble,

I promise."

Dazai bites his lip.

"I don't want you to be disappointed in me because I couldn't do it."

"Osamu," Chuuya says and his tone is full of so much emotion, Dazai can't even hope to untangle them all. "I'll /never/ be disappointed in you for not being able to do

something. Especially not /sex/."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Dumbass, I would be happy having the most vanilla sex with you if that's what you needed. I don't need you to be something you're not."

"/You/ would be satisfied having vanilla sex forever?"

"When we got together I wasn't even sure if you were /interested/ in sex. That doesn't matter to me."

"But you're so.../good/ at this. And I'm...not." It's almost /painful/ to admit that he isn't good at something. Especially something that Chuuya /excels/ in.

"What are you

talking about?"

"We have to stop a lot and you get upset if I don't /tell you/ to stop when you're having a good time. I can't do a lot of things right and when I /try/ you get angry."

"/What/?" Chuuya asks, clearly in disbelief but Dazai can't fathom /why/. It's all /true/.

"I can't even handle a little /teasing/ and some smutty texts. So /why/ would I deserve to feel good when I couldn't /do/ what you /want me to/?"

"Okay, cut that out /right now/," Chuuya snaps.

"Cut what out?" Dazai asks. "It's /true/."

"It's /not/," Chuuya counters.

"The fact that you don't have experience and need breaks isn't a /turn off/, idiot. I get /upset/ because I don't feel like I can /trust you/ to tell me when you need a break because you have this stupid idea that you have to be /punished/ for having physical limits."

He's getting angry now, but there's something else there, too. Some other emotion that Dazai can't name. That he's too /afraid/ to name.

"I don't want to mess it up."

"Osamu, you've been constantly stimulated for…" he pauses, probably counting. "Five hours at this point.

That's not a /little teasing/. You're not gonna mess it up because you /need/ a break or a release."

"You said if I could do it you'd fuck me against the wall. I want...I /want/ that."

Chuuya sighs.

"Baby, you seem to think you have very little power in this relationship."

"What do you mean?"

"If you want something /all you have to do/ is ask for it," Chuuya says. "I thought this might be too much, but you looked so /excited/ so I agreed."

"But you…" Dazai trails off. "The texts are so...so /good/ though? Like you have /practice/."

"Being good at dirty talk has nothing to do with this. You wanted to try this. I wasn't about to give you half-assed experience."

"But...but that's /worse/."

"/How/?"

"Because it was /my/ idea and I couldn't follow through," he says.

Chuuya pauses for a long moment.

“...So?”

“So, I should have /known/.”

“Experimenting is normal,” Chuuya says. “I want to support you when you get excited about this sort of thing. I’m not expecting for you to walk into sex like a pornstar.”

“But I /want/ to be good at it. I want to make you feel good.”

“You /do/,” Chuuya says. “What makes you think you don’t make me feel good?”

He /doesn’t/ want to say it. Because it makes him sound weak and stupid. He pushes his forehead against his desk, hiding in his folded arms like he can’t be judged if his eyes are closed.

“Because

you make me feel so /good/ and I don’t understand how /I/ could make you feel /anything/ like that. I hurt you and I...it doesn’t make /sense/.”

"But you're back," Chuuya says easily. "You're back now and you're /better/. You make me feel /so/ good."

"/How/?"

"If I tell you it's going to get very sexual. We can have this conversation at home if you still need a break."

"Tell me, /please/."

"Before I do," Chuuya says, relishing in the whine Dazai lets out. "Go to the bathroom and lock yourself in."

Everyone is still gone, so

letting the coat drop from his lap isn't too embarrassing. He hobbles to the bathroom and does what he's told.

"Okay."

"Good boy." It's so much more intense /hearing/ those words and not just reading them. Dazai leans back against the wall and his body /jolts/.

"Tell me,"

Dazai whispers. "Do I make you feel good?"

Chuuya hums, shuffling sounds coming from the receiver like he put his feet up.

"You make me feel /so good/, baby," he murmurs. Dazai shudders. "Unzip your pants," he says. Dazai sets the phone down on speaker and frantically slips

his pants down.

"Okay."

"Lean forward on the door."

Dazai does, pushing his forehead against the door and panting. "I need you to be /honest/, okay?"

"Okay," Dazai agrees quickly.

"I want to use the vibrator again. Will you be alright?"

"/Yes/!"

"Okay. /Tell me/ if it's too much," Chuuya says, tone serious and bordering on scolding. "I'll be really pissed if you lie to me."

"I promise, I promise," Dazai babbled. He would say anything right now to have Chuuya's voice in his ear and sensation overcoming his body.

The vibrations start slow, easy, and then start building, the pulses get more intense, /longer/ and he's glad he was already leaning against the door because his legs nearly buckle under him.

"How does that feel, beautiful?"

"/Good/."

"/Just/ good? We can't have /that/."

The pulses get /faster/ and Dazai /jolts/, hips bucking forward against nothing on instinct. He can't even contain the little moan that escapes, but that seems to be exactly what Chuuya wanted as his words twist around Dazai's mind like a sweet melody.

"That's it, beautiful.

Moan for me like the whore you are."

Degradation was /also/ something he didn't realize he liked until he and Chuuya got together. But it’s /hot/. /Especially/ when Chuuya does it.

Dazai moans because how was he just supposed to /ignore/ that command?

Chuuya lets out a shaky breath and for the first time Dazai realizes that Chuuya is being affected by him too. "/Fuck/, Osamu, you make such pretty sounds for me."

"Mmm, just for you," Dazai says, experimenting. He wants to make Chuuya feel as good as him. At /least/.

"That's /right/," Chuuya agrees, voice deep and sending shivers down Dazai's spine. "Because you're /my/ slut. I'm the only person that gets to hear you like this. To see you come undone on my cock. To make you /beg/. Isn't that right, Osamu?"

"/Yes/!"

"Touch yourself," Chuuya

demands. "Jerk off to the sound of my voice. Imagine I'm there, pushing you against the door, gripping your throat and /fucking you/ until you don't remember your own name."

"Ch--/Chuuya/!"

"That's it, beautiful, /scream/ my name."

Dazai shoves his pants and underwear down

just far enough to let his cock free. The first stroke is /perfection/. Finally he's getting the /friction/ he needs.

"Want you /here/," Dazai says. "Chuuya, I want /you/."

"I'm right here, baby," Chuuya says, voice raspy. "/Squeezing your throat/, fucking you against the door

where anyone could come in and hear it. Fucking you like a needy little whore."

"Need /more/."

The vibrations go /crazy/ at that. The door is the only thing keeping him vertical now as he frantically jerks his cock. He whimpers, groaning against the cool door.

"Fuck, baby, I could cum just listening to you moan. You make me feel /so/ good."

"I do?" Dazai whines, voice cracking slightly.

"Yeah," Chuuya agrees. "You make the /best/ sounds for me. Turns me on /so much/.”

Dazai wheezes out a little noise at that. He turns Chuuya on.

/Him/. Chuuya’s voice is back in his ear and he can’t /think/ anymore. “Mm, moan for me again. Scream my name. /Beg/ for my cock, you little /slut/."

"Chuuya, I want your cock," Dazai says, wrist twisting and thumb running over his head. His cock is bright red and /aching/.

"Want you inside me! /Need/ you!"

"Good boy," Chuuya praises. "Who do you belong to?"

Dazai opens his mouth to respond but the vibrator comes back to his attention as it mercilessly stimulates his prostate. "Tell me who you belong to, Osamu. Who are you a cockslut for, hm?

Whose cock do you /beg/ for?"

"Yours!" Dazai whispers, drooling on the door now as he pumps his dick. His knees /tremble/ with the vibrator destroying his entire sense of time or shame or reservation.

"Who do you belong to, Osamu?"

"You!"

"Scream my name."

"Chuuya!"

"/Good boy/," he purrs. "Do you want to cum, baby?"

"Yes, yes, please, Daddy."

"So obedient," Chuuya says. "You want my cock that bad? You want me to fuck you against the wall /that bad/?"

"Mm!" Dazai groans. He's so /fucking close/. He just needs one more push just a /little

more/. "Want you to take me wherever you want. Have your way with me, throw me around, pick me up and fuck me wherever you'll have me."

"Holy /shit/, Osamu."

"I just want it all to /stop/ for a while. So all I have to worry about is being good for you."

"Christ, you /are/ good for me. So good. Perfect for me. You moan so pretty, take my cock like you were made for it, huh? Perfect little cockslut."

"/Yeah/," Dazai sighs. He lets his eyes drift closed so he can pretend that the vibrator is Chuuya, that he's /there/. That it's

/his/ hand jerking Dazai off.

"Fuck, Osamu, I want to take you right there. Fuck you fast and sloppy then plug you up and make you walk around with my cum inside you for the rest of the day."

Dazai /keens/. He can see it, Chuuya brutally fucking him in a workplace bathroom and

whispering /filth/ in his ear. "You like that? You wanna feel my cum inside you /all day/? Knowing that at any moment you could get a job and go /out/ all plugged up and fucked raw?"

Dazai whines, pitiful and desperate.

"/Please/."

"You wanna cum now, baby? Thinking about

all the ways I could dirty you up?"

"Yes! /Please/, Daddy!"

"My good boy is so well behaved today."

"Mm!" Dazai cries out. He can't even respond anymore, mouth hanging open in /ecstacy/.

"Cum for me right now."

And that's all it takes. Dazai cums in hot spurts, sliding

down the door until he's collapsed on the floor panting and reaching for his phone to turn off speaker and feel Chuuya’s voice against his ear again.

"That’s it, beautiful," Chuuya coos. "I'm so proud of you, Osamu."

“Thank you,” Dazai murmurs. Chuuya huffs out a laugh.

“What are you thanking me for?” he asks. The way Chuuya can just /switch/ between being a powerful dom controlling every one of Dazai’s thoughts and being a sweet doting boyfriend makes Dazai’s head spin.

If he hadn’t just had one of the most intense orgasms of his life, he

might have been worried that he’d said something wrong. Instead, he shifts to get more comfortable on the ground and leans on the wall with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Feels good,” he replies. Chuuya huffs out a sigh.

“You don’t have to thank me for sex.”

“Do, /too/,” he says, just to be difficult.

“How are you feeling?” Chuuya asks instead of engaging. Dazai hums as he shuts his eyes and takes stock of his body.

“Tired,” he says, finally. Chuuya makes a sympathetic noise and Dazai hears the creaking of his office chair, like

he’s standing up.

“Will you be okay to keep working?”

“Mmhmm, I just need a few minutes,” he says, swallowing thickly. He mostly just doesn’t want Chuuya to feel the need to come get him or leave work to take care of him. He’ll be fine until tonight. /Definitely/. “Feels nice.

I just need to finish my paperwork.”

“You know you don’t /actually/ have to do all your paperwork for me to fuck you tonight, right?”

Dazai frowns, pushing himself up on shaking legs and bracing himself on the wall so he doesn’t slip down again.

“But I promised,” he says

like that’s relevant anymore. He drags himself to the sink, cleaning himself up and wetting a paper towel to clean off the door.

The sight of his cum staining the door makes a muted feeling of satisfaction run through him. He pulls his phone away from his ear to take a picture

before cleaning the door off.

“The situation is different now. Don’t /push/ yourself, idiot.”

“I’m /fine/,” Dazai insists, making quick work of saying goodbye, sending the picture to Chuuya and going back to his desk like nothing happened. And he feels fine, he feels /great/.

Floaty and foggy and pleasantly tingly.

He hasn't felt like this after sex before but he figures it's okay. How could feeling this good be a /bad/ thing?

Meanwhile, Chuuya is near-obsessively checking on him. Dazai is /usually/ okay after scenes, but that one was /different/.

There were so many new components involved. He /seems/ normal, but the thing about Dazai is his /ridiculous/ ability to hide the way he's feeling so he can go off by himself and lick his wounds.

He runs his hands through his hair again. It's only been an hour or so now, but his

heart is racing and his stomach /twists/. He just /knows/ something isn't right.

Dazai, as it turns out, is not /fine/.

It starts with exhaustion. Everyone is back from lunch and they eye him strangely. Or maybe they aren't. He isn't sure anymore.

The spiral builds and

builds until he feels /awful/. He can see the small stack of paperwork left and he /should/ do it. So Chuuya will give him his reward.

But sitting slumped on his desk is about all he /can/ do. He really just wants a /hug/ if he's being honest. Just /something/. But he isn't

about to /ask/ for one.

Atsushi asks him a question at some point and he can't even open his mouth to respond. It's so /much/ and he feels terrible.

He's an /awful/ sub. He can't do /anything/ right. He covers the back of his head with his hands and huffs. Maybe he'll

just stay in his dorm tonight.

Chuuya probably doesn't want to see him anyway.

(Dazai doesn’t see Ranpo observing him, narrowing his eyes, and pulling out his phone.

[ranpo]: come get dazai

[ranpo]: he dropped

[Mr. Fancy Hat]: Fuck

[Mr. Fancy Hat]: Okay I’m on my way)

Dazai doesn't even notice when Ranpo picks his coat up from the floor and drapes it over his shoulders, but the action doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone else. No one asks, though.

Ten minutes later when the door to the agency opens and Chuuya Nakahara steps through, a strange

silence settles over the room. Chuuya is known for a much brasher entrance, kicking the door in or busting through the window.

So seeing him open the door and shut it gently behind him draws some attention. /Then/ he's jogging toward Dazai's desk, completely ignoring everyone

else in the office.

"Osamu!"

Dazai head snaps up to see Chuuya rushing toward him. His hair is a /mess/, eyes wide and worried. He's /panicked/.

"Chuuya?" Dazai asks, voice small and barely hovering above a whisper. Chuuya gives him a wobbly smile, trying to put on some kind

of facade. Dazai blinks up at him slowly, shrinking away slightly.

Chuuya makes his way around the desk, removing his gloves quickly and setting them down.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, voice gentle. He reaches out slowly to run his fingers through Dazai’s hair. Dazai freezes

before leaning into his touch heavily. “How are you feeling?”

Dazai just shakes his head and Chuuya grits his teeth. He was so /stupid/. He should have come to check on him when he got a bad feeling. He should have /known/ that this would happen. He didn’t take care of Dazai

and /now/ he looks /miserable/. Chuuya presses a kiss to his forehead, leaning down to hug Dazai close.

Dazai pushes his face into Chuuya’s throat, sniffing softly. “I’m sorry, baby,” Chuuya whispers, squeezing him a little. Dazai’s arms slowly reach up to slip around Chuuya’s

back beneath his coat and hold on /tight/.

“Did I do something wrong?” Dazai whispers, barely loud enough for Chuuya to hear him.

“/No/, no,” Chuuya says, shaking his head and kissing the top of Dazai’s head. “You’re /perfect/. You’re so good, beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t

take care of you, is all. Let’s go home.”

“I didn’t...finish my work,” Dazai mumbles. Chuuya pulls away to press a soft kiss to Dazai’s cheek. From the corner of his eye he sees Ranpo shooing the entire ADA out the door and nodding at him seriously before closing the door behind

him.

Chuuya moves them both until he can sit on Dazai’s desk and tug him closer, resting his feet on the chair around his hips.

“That’s okay,” he says, running his hand up and down Dazai’s back soothingly. “You worked hard today. Let me give you your reward.”

Dazai pushes his face against Chuuya’s chest and shakes his head.

“I don’t deserve it.”

Chuuya coos at him, resisting the urge to squeeze him even tighter, not wanting to hurt him but feeling like /shit/ because he can't just /fix/ it.

“You were /such/ a good boy today, baby.

I wanna give it to you. You’re /so/ good.”

“Mm-mm.” Dazai shakes his head against Chuuya’s chest. “M’not.”

And Chuuya’s heart /aches/. Dazai doesn’t get emotional, he doesn’t get vulnerable--not in public or at work, at least. But right now he’s /hurting/ and it’s /Chuuya’s

fault/ for believing that he wouldn’t be affected. That he wouldn’t need to be checked on /constantly/.

“I love you,” Chuuya says. “You’re perfect.” They don’t say it a lot. Maybe they should say it more, but it does what he wanted it to. Dazai sniffles, hugging him closer,

clinging on like Chuuya might disappear. His shoulders relax slightly as he breathes a little sigh of relief. Chuuya cups the back of his head, nuzzling his head in response.

“L’ve you, too,” Dazai says, voice thick.

"Let's go home, love."

Dazai holds tighter, not saying

anything. Chuuya scratches his scalp lightly as he cards gentle fingers through his hair. "Alright, a few more minutes."

Chuuya moves his hand from Dazai's hair to pull his coat from his shoulders and drape it over Dazai's back. He puts his hand back immediately, feeling Dazai

start to relax against him. “God, you’re so beautiful, Osamu,” he says, humming softly and lulling Dazai into relaxing a bit more, rocking them both slowly.

"Yeah?" Dazai murmurs, quietly hopeful. Chuuya nods, pressing kisses anywhere he can reach.

"Yeah, baby. /So/ beautiful.

I just can't believe you love me back sometimes."

"'Course I do," Dazai mumbles, shaking his head slightly. "Chibi is amazing."

Chuuya smiles lopsidedly. He really doesn't /feel/ amazing right now. He let his boyfriend drop in public and didn't even /think/ about it. But right

now isn't about him feeling /guilty/ it's about making Dazai feel /safe/.

He wants to get home as quickly as possible so he can wrap Dazai up and make him feel better in /their/ space. Dazai shifts, pulling back slightly, dazed eyes slowly focusing. “Okay,” he says. “Home?”

“Yeah, let’s go home,” Chuuya says, slipping off the desk and shoving his gloves in his pocket. He grabs Dazai’s hand and pulls him along gently.

“Does Chibi think I’ll break if he holds my hand too hard?” Dazai murmurs. Chuuya huffs out a laugh as he shakes his head. “I might

slip away if you don’t hold me tighter.”

Chuuya’s grip tightens slightly, squeezing Dazai’s hand in reassurance. The ADA is standing outside the door looking pensive while Ranpo licks a sucker beside the door. Dazai shrinks when the eyes land on him and Chuuya lifts his chin,

meeting Kunikida’s gaze.

“He has food poisoning. I’m taking him home.”

Kunikida’s eyes dart between Chuuya and Dazai, who does a very poor job of hiding behind his boyfriend.

“Food poisoning?” he asks skeptically. Chuuya takes a threatening step forward.

“/Yeah/, I didn’t

realize the fish I made for breakfast was bad. Do we have a problem?”

“Why aren’t /you/ sick, Chuuya-san?” Tanizaki asks but jolts back with his hands up when Chuuya shoots a glare at him.

“I was in a rush this morning and skipped breakfast. Any more stupid questions or can I

take my boyfriend home?”

“Did /Dazai/ tell you to pick him up?” Kunikida asks. Chuuya's about three seconds away from hitting him even as Dazai noses at his neck. He doesn’t seem bothered by the comments his coworkers make, but Chuuya /is/.

“I texted Mr. Fancy Hat,” Ranpo says.

Kunikida’s eyes widen, glancing between them. Atsushi steps forward awkwardly.

“Dazai was acting weird all day. I think he really is sick, Kunikida-san.”

“/Fine/,” Kunikida says. “But he’d better be back on Monday.”

Chuuya sneers at him. He /usually/ doesn’t have a huge

problem with Kunikida. His work ethic is commendable. But that doesn’t matter when his baby is hurting.

“He’ll be back when he’s /better/.”

He pushes past the blond man, dragging Dazai behind him, who laughs softly.

“You didn’t have to be so mean, Chibi.”

“They started it,”

he grumbles, stopping in front of his bike. Dazai bites back a little disappointed sound when Chuuya lets go of his hand to grab a helmet from under the seat. Chuuya turns and holds the helmet out. “C’mere, baby,” he says.

Dazai steps forward and crouches slightly so Chuuya can

put the helmet on. He fastens the buckle to make sure it’s secure before sliding his own helmet on. He swings his leg over the bike and turns to Dazai who fidgets on the sidewalk. “Let’s go home, Osamu.”

That seems to kick him into gear. Dazai climbs on the bike and hugs Chuuya

tight from behind. Chuuya revs up the bike and peels onto the street. He doesn’t care how fast he has to go. He has one priority.

Dazai squeezes him a few times, like he might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight. Chuuya’s stomach twists, but he pushes faster.

Once he’s parked in the garage beneath his apartment building he carefully removes Dazai’s helmet, smiling when he shakes his messy hair out. He stores the helmets and takes Dazai’s hand again.

It isn’t until they’re inside the apartment and the door is locked that Chuuya lets

himself /feel/ again. He really fucked up. He leans back against the door, pulling Dazai close and hugging him /tight/. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, baby.”

Dazai wraps his arms around Chuuya in return even as he frowns. Chuuya slides down the door and Dazai goes with him

willingly.

“Chuuya?” he whispers. Chuuya shakes his head, holding back the tears that sting his eyes. He /hurt/ Dazai because he didn’t /think/. Chuuya runs his fingers through Dazai’s hair, combing them through the soft strands.

“How do you feel?” he asks, voice thick with

emotion. Dazai relaxes into his arms.

“A little...better.”

“Good, that’s good,” Chuuya whispers, kissing Dazai’s forehead softly. “How about a bath?”

“Okay,” Dazai mumbles, face pressed comfortably against Chuuya’s collarbone.

“Then I’ll make you something to eat and we

can watch a movie, okay?”

Dazai nods in response, body pliant as Chuuya shifts him and picks him up. His arms wrap lazily around Chuuya’s shoulders. He hums.

“I can walk.”

“I know,” Chuuya replies, setting Dazai down on the counter in the bathroom.

He steps away to start running the bath before turning back and reaching for Dazai’s vest.

He takes his time removing Dazai’s clothes, careful movements giving Dazai enough time to push him away if he wants. He doesn’t. Chuuya places his hands on either side of Dazai’s hips and

leans in to press a sweet kiss to Dazai’s lips.

Dazai leans into his lips, chasing the soft embrace eagerly. His shaky hands come up to cup Chuuya’s neck and pull him closer.

Dazai spreads his legs to allow Chuuya to slot between them, the redhead’s hands sliding over his

thighs and up to rest on his hips. “I love you,” Chuuya whispers against his lips. Dazai smiles softly, kissing him again.

But his lips start to tremble and Chuuya feels tears brush his skin and pulls back. Dazai is /really/ trying to hold it back, eyes squeezed shut and Chuuya

feels his chest ache. He did this. Dazai is /vulnerable/ with him but he /rarely/ cries. “What is it, gorgeous?” he asks as he runs his thumbs under Dazai’s eyes gently.

“Why?” Dazai whispers. Chuuya pushes Dazai’s hair back, running his nails over the taller man’s scalp.

“Why what?”

Dazai sniffs quietly, shrugging one shoulder even as he leans into Chuuya’s hands.

“/Why/ do you love me?” he asks.

“You’re my partner,” Chuuya says. “I’ve loved you since we were seventeen.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Dazai insists. “I was gone for four years.”

“And I /still/ loved you. Even when you were gone.”

Dazai shakes his head again and Chuuya sighs softly. “Do you want me to show you?”

Dazai blinks his eyes open, frowning. He meets Chuuya’s eyes and tilts his head. God, he’s so /cute/. One minute he’s a terrifying genius and

then next he’s tilting his head like a puppy.

Chuuya tucks his hair behind his ears and moves his hands to the bandages around Dazai’s neck. Dazai stiffens.

“They’re ugly.”

“No, they’re not,” Chuuya soothes, slowly unwrapping the bandages around Dazai’s neck and running

kisses across his skin as soon as it’s uncovered. “You’re so beautiful and you don’t even know it.”

Dazai’s skin heats at that and Chuuya smiles. He whispers praise into Dazai’s skin as he slowly unravels the bandages, licking and nipping at every bit of skin he finds. He kisses

every scar, every blemish.

Dazai has phases. Sometimes he doesn’t care about his body or what it looks like. Other times are like this. He gets insecure and Chuuya is prepared to remind him as many times as it takes that he isn’t going anywhere.

Chuuya sinks to his knees,

slowly pulling Dazai’s pants and underwear down, kissing down his legs. He whispers praise into the skin as if it could be etched there instead. As if his love could undo the hurt that is permanently marked there.

Dazai’s face is flushed, eyes a little dazed when Chuuya looks up

again. He smiles and stands again, capturing Dazai’s lips. “I love you just the way you are. You don’t need to be something you’re not.”

“Thank you,” Dazai says, kissing Chuuya back with a renewed intensity. Chuuya slows it down, though, kissing Dazai’s throat and nipping at

his jaw.

“Of course, beautiful,” he says. “Let’s get in the bath.”

Dazai huffs but nods. Chuuya strips, quick and efficient. Dazai stands and Chuuya carefully removes the vibrator and sets it in the sink to wash later. He adds soaps and salts to the bath before helping Dazai

in and settling behind him. Dazai sinks lower until his head rests on Chuuya’s shoulder and he can look up at him with a lazy smirk.

Chuuya runs his hands over Dazai’s body, thoughtfully silent. Dazai seems to be recovering, at least. But Chuuya is hesitant to suggest doing

anything more than aftercare for the rest of the night.

Dazai’s lips on his jaw draw his attention down. He smiles as Dazai kisses him softly, as if asking for permission to touch him. Chuuya tilts his chin down and kisses him, slow and sensual.

When the bath starts to cool,

Chuuya steps out, toweling himself off quickly and bringing a big, fluffy towel over to the bath. Dazai steps into the towel eagerly, letting himself be led into the bedroom. Chuuya gives him underwear and a big, novelty t-shirt. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers as he

nods to the bed. “Get comfortable. I’ll make us something to eat.”

Dazai pouts, looking between Chuuya and the bed. At the insistent look in Chuuya’s eyes, Dazai relents, trudging to the bed and burying himself under the fluffy blankets.

He actually dozes off, surrounded by

the sweet warmth and drowsily blinks his eyes open when Chuuya shakes his shoulder. “Sorry to wake you,” he says softly. “But you need to eat.”

Dazai sits up, accepting the plate of food and smiling when he sees it. Chuuya made him crab. He looks up at Chuuya who is making his

way into the bed beside him.

“I love you,” he says. Chuuya kisses his temple, settling in beside him and pulling his own plate up to his chest.

“I love you, too, baby.”

Dazai’s cheeks flush slightly. He /likes/ pet names. They make him feel special and loved. He would never

say that /out loud/, of course. It would give Chuuya /far/ too much power and he wouldn’t be able to handle that.

They eat in silence. The food is delicious, as usual. When they’re done, Chuuya sets their plates on the side table and moves to sit behind Dazai, but Dazai stops

him. He spreads his legs a little, pleading.

“I want to hold you.”

And how can Chuuya deny a request like that? He sits against Dazai’s chest, leaning back and hugging Dazai’s arms as they wrap around his waist.

He turns on the TV. They have a tradition of watching kids

movies; catching up on a childhood neither of them was allowed to have. Dazai slumps against the headboard, holding Chuuya tight and drawing patterns across his skin.

Chuuya reaches up, his eyes glued to the TV and runs his fingers through Dazai's hair, cupping the side of his

head and scratching his scalp.

The movie ends and Dazai nods off, cuddling against Chuuya in the cocoon of blankets they've wrapped around themselves.

Chuuya pulls out his phone. He answers some work emails, scrolls through social media, then settles for watching a documentary,

setting his phone up and shifting to get more comfortable in Dazai's arms.

It's nearly midnight when Dazai stirs, nuzzling at the back of Chuuya's neck. His arms tighten around Chuuya's body, lips running over his skin as he noses red hair out of the way. "Chuuya?"

Chuuya leans back into him, phone forgotten.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Will you make love to me?"

Chuuya bites his lip. He shifts, turning over to look into Dazai's big, brown eyes.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, love." He pushes Dazai's hair behind his ear as he speaks,

looking him over intently.

"I feel better. I need it. Please."

He does /seem/ a bit better. But anything that could put him into subspace again would be too dangerous. Dazai looks so /pleading/ and /desperate/. Chuuya relents.

"/Only/ making love," he says. Dazai nods and

Chuuya nods, rolling him onto his back carefully and straddling his waist. "My beautiful princess can have whatever he wants."

Dazai's cheeks bloom with color at that as he nods.

"Please?"

"It would be an honor," Chuuya says, leaning down to kiss Dazais slowly. He takes his

time, feeling Dazai grow pliant beneath him.

His hands wander, running over the planes of Dazai's body, cupping flesh and caressing scars. "Gorgeous," he murmurs into another kiss.

Dazai sighs against his lips, smiling softly and running his fingers through Chuuya's hair.

"I love you so much," Chuuya says. Dazai whimpers softly, kissing him harder.

"I love you, too," he replies desperately. Chuuya pulls back trailing kisses down Dazai's body. He carefully slips the shirt off, sucking and nipping at Dazai's stomach and hips.

Dazai pushes his body

up into the touch, chasing Chuuya's lips when he pulls away. Chuuya smiles, ignoring the needy noises Dazai makes in favor of grabbing his calves and slowly, carefully pushing them back.

"Hold yourself open for me, love."

Dazai grips his thighs, holding his thighs and watching

as Chuuya slicks his fingers with lube.

Dazai is still a little pliant from the vibrator and Chuuya's finger slides into him without much resistance. Dazai gasps as Chuuya works him open with slow, careful movements. Chuuya kisses up his stomach, taking time to pay attention to

every single piece of Dazai that he can reach.

Dazai leans up into every touch, so pliant and needy as his body flushes with heat. Chuuya smiles, whispering praise into every piece of skin he can reach. He takes it slow. They have all night. There’s no need to rush /anything/.

When he’s satisfied that Dazai is properly relaxed, he pulls back to see Dazai gazing up at him with hazy eyes and a blissed out smile on his face. His cheeks are beautifully pink, the blush going all the way to the tips of his ears.

No one else gets to see The Demon Prodigy

like this. No one else gets to see Dazai unraveled and comfortable and /soft/. This Dazai is only for Chuuya and he always has been. Despite their bickering, they love each other. And there are pieces of each of them that belong solely to the other person. Pieces that no one

else has ever witnessed and they like it that way.

He places his hands on either side of Dazai’s head and pushes in slowly. Dazai’s body takes him in eagerly, as if it was made for him. “/So/ perfect for me,” Chuuya says, kissing Dazai slowly. Dazai lets go of his thighs,

letting his legs around Chuuya’s waist and grips Chuuya’s jaw.

He kisses Chuuya like a drowning man taking in his first gasp of air. Chuuya lets him control the kiss, grinding his hips languidly and drawing little whines from Dazai beneath him.

“/Move/,” Dazai whispers,

sucking on Chuuya’s bottom lip. “Take me.”

“Alright, princess,” Chuuya whispers, pulling his hips back and pushing back in. He sets a steady but gentle pace. Dazai’s legs squeeze his hips as Chuuya’s cock drags over his prostate with each thrust. He throws his head back and

Chuuya takes the opportunity to kiss up his neck, sucking on heated flesh and grinning at the marks he leaves. “All mine,” Chuuya says. “All of this just for /me/.”

“Mm! Yours,” Dazai agrees, breathless. Sex with Chuuya is /always/ good, but there’s something about soft, gentle

Chuuya that makes Dazai absolutely /melt/. Chuuya takes him apart and puts him back together so reverently. It doesn’t leave any room for doubt or insecurity because he fills every crack and scar with unrelenting devotion.

He’s so overwhelmed as Chuuya moves his hips. Their

bodies are synched, moving as one and taking and giving equally to one another.

“God, you’re so gorgeous, princess,” Chuuya murmurs. “So pretty and needy for me. You make the /nicest/ sounds and I love watching you come apart under me.”

“Wanna be good for you,” Dazai whispers,

eyes squeezing shut and mouth falling open on a soft moan as Chuuya’s cock hits his prostate at /just/ the right angle.

“You /are/. Fuck, baby, you’re so good for me.”

“Love you,” Dazai whines.

“I love you, too, gorgeous,” Chuuya whispers. His hand reaches between them to

jerk Dazai off with measure strokes in time with each snap of his hips. Dazai’s mouth opens on a moan and it doesn’t take long for him to come, trembling and panting against the pillows. And what a sight he makes. His messy brown hair falls in his eyes, and spreads across the

pillow beneath him. His neck is covered in little marks and his eyes are hazy and starstruck. “Good job,” Chuuya praises him.

Dazai smiles, eyes drifting closed to soak in the pleasure. But then Chuuya moves to /pull out/ and that just won’t do. Dazai whimpers, legs locking

around Chuuya as his heels dig into the shorter man’s spine.

“Where are you going?” he asks. Chuuya soothes him, patting his hair gently.

“I’m just getting something to clean you up.”

Dazai shakes his head, holding Chuuya tighter.

“But you’re not done.”

Chuuya smiles down at him, kissing him softly.

“I’m fine, love. I just want /you/ to feel good.”

Dazai pouts up at him, still not letting him go.

“If you don’t come I’ll feel guilty,” he says simply. Chuuya sighs. He really doesn’t want to push him. Dazai needs /rest/ more

than anything else.

“I’ll go jerk off before I clean you. Better?”

The appalled look on Dazai’s face tells Chuuya that it is not, in fact, better. Dazai holds tighter and the pressure on Chuuya’s back is /actually/ starting to hurt. He winces, leaning down into Dazai’s space

to escape the pressure. “/Ow/, Osamu,” he grumbles. Dazai wraps his arms around Chuuya’s shoulders and tugs him down until his face is pressed against Dazai’s throat.

“I don’t /want/ you to jerk off. I want you to make love to /me/.”

“Baby,” Chuuya says, kissing Dazai’s neck.

He’s so hard it’s distracting and Dazai keeps /clenching/ around him. It’s hard to concentrate on not being an /idiot/. He /needs/ to keep his head. “I don’t want to push you.”

“/Please/,” is Dazai’s only response. “Please, Chuuya. Please keep going. I wanna feel you.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, meeting big, brown eyes. “I won’t be upset if you want to stop. At all. There’s no pressure to keep going.”

“I want you,” Dazai insists. “I wanna feel you making love to me.”

Chuuya kisses Dazai’s neck again and starts up the same pace as before. Dazai

feels the buzz of overstimulation dancing across his skin and revels in it. Little bursts of electricity as Chuuya takes him and praises him and /loves/ him.

Chuuya is whispering nonsensical praise when Dazai’s cock throbs again.

“Beautiful. Gorgeous. Just for me. So pretty.

Love you. Love you so much,” Chuuya mutters, sweat on his brow and hips speeding up. Dazai holds on tight. It’s everything he wants. To feel safe and secure in Chuuya’s arms, Chuuya consuming him inside and out. It’s /bliss/. It’s so beautiful and he can’t believe he could ever

deserve such a thing.

He didn’t think his world could /be/ this beautiful as he looks up into Chuuya’s bright blue eyes and feels his heart skip a beat in his chest. Chuuya loves him. Chuuya loves him and wants him and /missed him/ when he was gone. Chuuya doesn’t want to leave

him. Ever.

His eyes sting again and he doesn’t know /what/ is wrong with him today but no amount of shutting his eyes and willing his body to calm down slows the flow of tears down his cheeks. Chuuya halts /immediately/ even as Dazai whines in protest. “Did I hurt you, baby?

What’s wrong?”

Dazai shakes his head, dragging Chuuya into a desperate kiss. Chuuya isn’t going to leave. He won’t disappear. He’s /there/ and he’ll /stay there/. No matter what Dazai says or what mistakes he makes, Chuuya will /be there/. It’s /overwhelming/.

“I’m /fine/,” Dazai croaks, rocking his hips in an attempt to get Chuuya to /move/ again. But he doesn’t budge.

“Why are you crying, beautiful?"

“I just love you, that’s all.”

Chuuya smiles softly. It feels so good to /hear/ it. After so many years of yearning to just hear his

voice again. To hear those words, over and over again. It makes him feel warm inside.

“Oh, love,” he croons. “I love you, too.”

Dazai nods, sniffing and encouraging Chuuya to move again. He does, holding Dazai gently as he snaps his hips. He’s so close. Just seeing the way

Dazai’s mouth opens on helpless moans is enough to drive him crazy.

Dazai clenches around him as he comes again and hearing the breathy moan he releases sends Chuuya over the edge. He comes inside Dazai, panting against his collarbone as he comes down. Dazai’s fingers run

through his hair and he smiles as he pushes himself up on his hands. Dazai is completely relaxed, looking up at him with a goofy grin.

“Hi, Chibi,” Dazai murmurs. Chuuya kisses him softly.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

They stay like that for a while. Still tangled together and kissing

lazily. Once they’ve cooled down, though, Chuuya carefully pulls out and presses a kiss to Dazai’s forehead before leaving to get towels and new clothes for him.

Once Dazai is clean and the bedsheets are changed, they cuddle up under the covers again. Dazai rests his ear over

Chuuya’s heart, eyes growing heavy.

“Thank you for picking me up.”

Chuuya caresses soft, brown hair.

“Of course. I’m sorry I let you drop.”

“Drop?”

“Subdrop,” Chuuya says softly. “It happens sometimes after an intense scene. But I didn’t...I didn’t think about it.

I’m sorry, Osamu.”

Dazai shrugs softly.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

Chuuya can’t help but feel like /intent/ isn’t the issue. But Dazai’s arms wrap around his chest and he squeezes tight, halting Chuuya’s self-deprecating line of thought.

“Get some rest, Osamu,” he says. Dazai hums, shutting his eyes carefully.

“Can we do another scene tomorrow?”

“Let’s see how you feel, okay?” Chuuya says haltingly. “We can just cuddle all weekend if you don’t feel up to it.”

“That won’t be boring?”

“I’ll be with /you/.

Of course it won’t be boring.”

Dazai smiles to himself.

“Okay. Goodnight, Chuuya.”

“Sleep well, Osamu.”

// end