Chuuya’s scent blockers are wearing off, overruled by the rubbing of his nose directly on the scent glands on Dazai’s neck.
The scent is sinking right /inside/ him.
White and crimson. Thicker than water, less capricious.
Blood dripping on snow— drop, after drop, after drop.
The scent is sinking right /inside/ him.
White and crimson. Thicker than water, less capricious.
Blood dripping on snow— drop, after drop, after drop.
And if Chuuya really is the prince in his fairytale, Dazai… he /is/ Snow White, saved once more.
“I know Chuuya will save me like a prince,” Dazai says, under his breath. “I told you already; I trust you.”
“That might not be a great idea,” Chuuya snorts. It’s humorous, though.
“I know Chuuya will save me like a prince,” Dazai says, under his breath. “I told you already; I trust you.”
“That might not be a great idea,” Chuuya snorts. It’s humorous, though.
“Let /me/ judge that, Chibi.”
“I get drunk way too easily, y’know. And I procrastinate. And you said I can’t drive.”
Dazai gnaws at his bottom lip. /Wow/, it’s hard to think with Chuuya’s scent in his brain — in his /heart/.
“Well, no, you’re a danger to the public.”
“I get drunk way too easily, y’know. And I procrastinate. And you said I can’t drive.”
Dazai gnaws at his bottom lip. /Wow/, it’s hard to think with Chuuya’s scent in his brain — in his /heart/.
“Well, no, you’re a danger to the public.”
“So you don’t trust me.”
“I don’t trust your /bike/,” Dazai corrects, frowning.
He tries to throw a quick glance behind his shoulder, but it only helps Chuuya to get /closer/, the tip of his nose and his /lips/, now, grazing against Dazai’s skin. A dry, featherlight touch.
“I don’t trust your /bike/,” Dazai corrects, frowning.
He tries to throw a quick glance behind his shoulder, but it only helps Chuuya to get /closer/, the tip of his nose and his /lips/, now, grazing against Dazai’s skin. A dry, featherlight touch.
The omega’s hands fist Dazai’s dark t-shirt before he goes on:
“I’m not as good as you think I am. I’m pretty fucked up.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t care.”
“I’m obnoxious and loud.”
“I don’t care.”
“The purring is ridiculous.”
“I disagree, but don’t care.”
“I’m not as good as you think I am. I’m pretty fucked up.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t care.”
“I’m obnoxious and loud.”
“I don’t care.”
“The purring is ridiculous.”
“I disagree, but don’t care.”
“I’m /hurt/, too.”
“…I know,” Dazai hesitates. “I can feel it. But I don’t mind.” He pauses. “Though, I /do/ mind the cold. Can you, maybe—? I’m freezing.”
He /wishes/ it was just a cheeky flirting technique, honestly, but he’s serious. Obediently, Chuuya shifts closer.
“…I know,” Dazai hesitates. “I can feel it. But I don’t mind.” He pauses. “Though, I /do/ mind the cold. Can you, maybe—? I’m freezing.”
He /wishes/ it was just a cheeky flirting technique, honestly, but he’s serious. Obediently, Chuuya shifts closer.
“No shit, you’re shivering,” Chuuya murmurs, lodging his nose under Dazai’s earlobe. His lips press on his neck. “Stop thinking.”
It’s /so/ much easier said than done.
“Sorry.”
“No need. Can I do something? Get you some water? Do you want the blankets?”
Dazai hesitates.
It’s /so/ much easier said than done.
“Sorry.”
“No need. Can I do something? Get you some water? Do you want the blankets?”
Dazai hesitates.
“This…” he wets his lips, dry and gnawed until they bled. “This is enough.”
As if on clue, Chuuya hugs him closer. He brushes his lips over Dazai’s scent glands, and it’s like something in Dazai /flipped/ again. His muscles relax. His body lets go on some of the tension.
As if on clue, Chuuya hugs him closer. He brushes his lips over Dazai’s scent glands, and it’s like something in Dazai /flipped/ again. His muscles relax. His body lets go on some of the tension.
Breathing is still painful, but not as much anymore.
“Sleep, ‘Samu.”
“I’m trying.”
“/Good/,” Chuuya whispers.
It’s /heavy/ and— vibrating? It takes a moment to Dazai to realize that the omega is comfortable enough to purr.
He’s pretty sure his body would have reacted to
“Sleep, ‘Samu.”
“I’m trying.”
“/Good/,” Chuuya whispers.
It’s /heavy/ and— vibrating? It takes a moment to Dazai to realize that the omega is comfortable enough to purr.
He’s pretty sure his body would have reacted to
that, either with crooning back or looking for more /contact/, if he wasn’t so /exhausted/.
He knows better than teasing his purring, though.
“Chuuya…?”
“Hm.”
“I don’t care about your gender,” he murmurs. Every word is an effort to sound /coherent/. “I like Chuuya anyway.”
He knows better than teasing his purring, though.
“Chuuya…?”
“Hm.”
“I don’t care about your gender,” he murmurs. Every word is an effort to sound /coherent/. “I like Chuuya anyway.”
After a moment of tensed silence, Chuuya relaxes against him.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. It’s heavy, soaked in /relief/ and past wounds never really healed. “Thank /you/,” he says again, and his voice breaks.
“For real. I like Chuuya more than anyone.”
Chuuya hesitates.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. It’s heavy, soaked in /relief/ and past wounds never really healed. “Thank /you/,” he says again, and his voice breaks.
“For real. I like Chuuya more than anyone.”
Chuuya hesitates.
His purring stops. “You’re drunk, obviously.”
“I’m honest.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I /do/.”
“But…”
“Chuuya,” Dazai interrupts, voice strong enough to successfully stop the omega mid-sentence.
Slowly, though with steady movements, Dazai breaks away from the embrace.
“I’m honest.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I /do/.”
“But…”
“Chuuya,” Dazai interrupts, voice strong enough to successfully stop the omega mid-sentence.
Slowly, though with steady movements, Dazai breaks away from the embrace.
He slips closer to the wall, and Chuuya’s hands open for him like petals.
And anyone might think that Dazai needs some breathing space, but he turns.
He rolls on the other side, facing Chuuya.
The sight that welcomes him, for a moment, makes his heart drop to his ankles.
And anyone might think that Dazai needs some breathing space, but he turns.
He rolls on the other side, facing Chuuya.
The sight that welcomes him, for a moment, makes his heart drop to his ankles.
Chuuya’s hair spread on Dazai’s pillow; his eyes almost black, still glimmering.
His lips, parted. His scent, /sweet/.
He leans closer, staring at the omega, getting lost in eyes that seem oceans at night.
He’s collecting his courage with every inch of space that disappears
His lips, parted. His scent, /sweet/.
He leans closer, staring at the omega, getting lost in eyes that seem oceans at night.
He’s collecting his courage with every inch of space that disappears
between them, because—
“Chuuya,” he repeats, hesitation making his throaty voice /tremble/. Every sound scrapes against his throat. “You may not trust my words, and that’s /fair/.”
“That’s not—“
“/But/ can I ask for one last favor?”
Sheepishly, Chuuya nods.
“/Yes/.”
“Chuuya,” he repeats, hesitation making his throaty voice /tremble/. Every sound scrapes against his throat. “You may not trust my words, and that’s /fair/.”
“That’s not—“
“/But/ can I ask for one last favor?”
Sheepishly, Chuuya nods.
“/Yes/.”
And maybe Chuuya is fighting whatever force has been tugging them together, but that ‘yes’ sounds like a /please/, so needy and husky, and—
It’s /all/ the encouragement Dazai needs.
He pulls closer, his lips one breath away from Chuuya’s.
An almost kiss.
An almost win.
It’s /all/ the encouragement Dazai needs.
He pulls closer, his lips one breath away from Chuuya’s.
An almost kiss.
An almost win.
It feels like a miracle for in a night that begun without an ounce on hope, without a spark of light.
But Chuuya doesn’t back away.
His eyelashes flicker when he glances down at the alpha’s lips, and Dazai’s just /can’t/ keep himself together anymore.
“Can I kiss you?”
But Chuuya doesn’t back away.
His eyelashes flicker when he glances down at the alpha’s lips, and Dazai’s just /can’t/ keep himself together anymore.
“Can I kiss you?”
And Chuuya doesn’t need to /reply/. Not with words, at least.
He swings forward, cupping Dazai’s neck, and suddenly there is no distance anymore.
It’s not a /tentative/ kiss, though it /is/ soft.
Chuuya’s lips mould against Dazai’s, they moan his first name against his mouth.
He swings forward, cupping Dazai’s neck, and suddenly there is no distance anymore.
It’s not a /tentative/ kiss, though it /is/ soft.
Chuuya’s lips mould against Dazai’s, they moan his first name against his mouth.
Their bodies press together, so /impossibly close/, enough that Dazai hopes that Chuuya can hear his beating heart.
And—
//You saved me, Chuuya.//
It’s truer than ever, only now… well, /now/ Dazai dares to think it might be /mutual/.
Maybe not just yet, but in the future.
And—
//You saved me, Chuuya.//
It’s truer than ever, only now… well, /now/ Dazai dares to think it might be /mutual/.
Maybe not just yet, but in the future.
It’s an /intoxicating/ contact.
It tastes like whisky and /chocolate/, dragged by Chuuya’s scent.
Dazai’s fingers sink in soft, sunset strands, and Chuuya’s hands moved up to frame his face, and everything else fades because /this/—
/This/ right here is the kiss of a lifetime.
It tastes like whisky and /chocolate/, dragged by Chuuya’s scent.
Dazai’s fingers sink in soft, sunset strands, and Chuuya’s hands moved up to frame his face, and everything else fades because /this/—
/This/ right here is the kiss of a lifetime.
Chuuya locks his leg in between Dazai’s, slipping forward with a low, needy noise. Want makes the omega’s voice drop and Dazai notices with a tinge of satisfaction that its edges are less rough, less /sharp/.
His hands, so quick and always with the ghost scent of coffee
His hands, so quick and always with the ghost scent of coffee
powder covering them like a veil, turn gentle as he drags featherlight, burning caresses along Dazai’s neck, mapping his shoulder, his collarbone, his /chest/.
Chuuya pushes into the kiss as if he could dissolve in it, and Dazai /opens/ for the omega, jaw going slack in
Chuuya pushes into the kiss as if he could dissolve in it, and Dazai /opens/ for the omega, jaw going slack in
the attempt to deepen a contact that is already swallowing them whole.
His hand combs through Chuuya’s hair in the way he’s been longing to ever since the morning he met the redhead the first time, with his ponytail and yellow apron and brazen kindness.
His hand combs through Chuuya’s hair in the way he’s been longing to ever since the morning he met the redhead the first time, with his ponytail and yellow apron and brazen kindness.
He absently plays with a russet strand, rolling it around his middle finger as he kisses Chuuya’s parted lips — one peck, followed by a nibble and a peck again. Showering the omegas with a thousand little kisses, toying with his hair.
Marveling at the perfection of this moment.
Marveling at the perfection of this moment.
“I love your hair,” Dazai murmurs. A good compromise when’s ‘I love you’ might seem a little premature.
“It rivals the sunset over the bay. No, no, it’s better.” Chuuya snorts, but Dazai goes on. “You should keep it loose more often,” he says, inhaling softly against Chuuya’s
“It rivals the sunset over the bay. No, no, it’s better.” Chuuya snorts, but Dazai goes on. “You should keep it loose more often,” he says, inhaling softly against Chuuya’s
mouth, assimilating his enveloping scent.
Chuuya’s airy chuckle reverberates in the few millimeters that separate them.
“I always keep it down when I’m at home,” he says. His eyes light up, catching a ripple of light from a car passing in the street outside. “You’ll see.”
Chuuya’s airy chuckle reverberates in the few millimeters that separate them.
“I always keep it down when I’m at home,” he says. His eyes light up, catching a ripple of light from a car passing in the street outside. “You’ll see.”
Dazai swallows.
Ah, right.
They’re meant to live— together. Like this.
/Better/ than this, for hopefully this is nothing but an almost unreal beginning.
You see, the bright side of having no expectations, of feeding on nightmares, is that when something goes finally
Ah, right.
They’re meant to live— together. Like this.
/Better/ than this, for hopefully this is nothing but an almost unreal beginning.
You see, the bright side of having no expectations, of feeding on nightmares, is that when something goes finally
right it’s like climbing an intoxicating high.
Short lived, easily shattered, but beautiful.
But what /if/.
“So we good?” Dazai asks.
It’s stupid, really, but he fears that /this/ might change everything. He doesn’t want to, but his brain feeds him the possibility anyway.
Short lived, easily shattered, but beautiful.
But what /if/.
“So we good?” Dazai asks.
It’s stupid, really, but he fears that /this/ might change everything. He doesn’t want to, but his brain feeds him the possibility anyway.
But Chuuya shakes his head, and leans forward and captures Dazai’s lips in a slow, open-mouthed kiss.
Somehow, it feels like a ‘I’ve got you’ whispered against his hear. Slowly, tenderly, Chuuya guides him, makes him yield with gentle strength.
The rhythm is intoxicating,
Somehow, it feels like a ‘I’ve got you’ whispered against his hear. Slowly, tenderly, Chuuya guides him, makes him yield with gentle strength.
The rhythm is intoxicating,
maddeningly slow and yet /deep/.
Before he knows it, Dazai finds himself grinding against Chuuya, moving with the waves of the kiss.
Rise, hold your breath, and down again. Rise, down.
/Rise./
Before he knows it, Dazai finds himself grinding against Chuuya, moving with the waves of the kiss.
Rise, hold your breath, and down again. Rise, down.
/Rise./
Chuuya’s tongue looking for his, their lips molded together.
/Down./
And Dazai can /feel/ the tension and hunger build inside their bodies, the greedy patters of the kiss and dry grinding turning from endearing to /torture/.
Raise, and down again.
/Sweet, sweet torture/.
/Down./
And Dazai can /feel/ the tension and hunger build inside their bodies, the greedy patters of the kiss and dry grinding turning from endearing to /torture/.
Raise, and down again.
/Sweet, sweet torture/.
But Chuuya breaks them apart, his voice is breathy. “Ask me something so stupid again and I’ll punch your stupid kissable face.”
Dazai grins.
“Do this again, and I won’t be able to stop,” he hums.
And somehow, he has a hunch Chuuya would want to take it /slow/.
Dazai grins.
“Do this again, and I won’t be able to stop,” he hums.
And somehow, he has a hunch Chuuya would want to take it /slow/.
In Chuuya’s sheepish smile, he finds his confirmation.
“Yeah— I’d rather we not enter /that/ territory yet.” His smirk stretches. “You reek of whiskey.”
“Uh~ spicy.”
Chuuya frowns, sticking his tongue out. “Yeah, definitely /not/.”
He doesn’t know if it’s the unguarded
“Yeah— I’d rather we not enter /that/ territory yet.” His smirk stretches. “You reek of whiskey.”
“Uh~ spicy.”
Chuuya frowns, sticking his tongue out. “Yeah, definitely /not/.”
He doesn’t know if it’s the unguarded
gesture or the playful tone, or the fact that Chuuya kissed him even though he most certainly reeks, but the alpha can’t but allow himself a curt laughter.
“Fair enough. I like Chuuya very, very much, so I’ll be good for now,” Dazai whines, sounding /young/.
Boyishly.
“Fair enough. I like Chuuya very, very much, so I’ll be good for now,” Dazai whines, sounding /young/.
Boyishly.
He said it a hundred times now, every single one meaning it fully, but now it has a different taste.
It has /Chuuya’s/ taste nestled on Dazai’s lips, trapped on the tip of his tongue, prickling under his skin.
Chuuya looks back at him, eyes narrowed. The corners of his lips
It has /Chuuya’s/ taste nestled on Dazai’s lips, trapped on the tip of his tongue, prickling under his skin.
Chuuya looks back at him, eyes narrowed. The corners of his lips
turn downward.
“Really, Dazai, I—“
“I like you, Chuuya,” Dazai retorts — pulling his full weight on the words. “More than I should, probably.”
The quietness is pierced only by their ragged breaths, and the rustle of clothes as they look for each other — their hands touching,
“Really, Dazai, I—“
“I like you, Chuuya,” Dazai retorts — pulling his full weight on the words. “More than I should, probably.”
The quietness is pierced only by their ragged breaths, and the rustle of clothes as they look for each other — their hands touching,
their foreheads brushing together, their legs intertwined.
“Don’t—“ the omega starts. Then, his voice dies out.
The entire room is plunged into darkness and silence. Dazai shifts closer, leaving a gentle kiss on Chuuya’s closed mouth.
Even Chuuya’s /scowl/ tastes sweet.
“Don’t—“ the omega starts. Then, his voice dies out.
The entire room is plunged into darkness and silence. Dazai shifts closer, leaving a gentle kiss on Chuuya’s closed mouth.
Even Chuuya’s /scowl/ tastes sweet.
“I just have to say it, Chibi. I don’t need you to reply anything right now.” Dazai smiles against Chuuya, feeling every heavy heartbeat of the omega like its /own/.
Every movement and soft flinch of Chuuya’s pliant body ricochets in him. Then, the alpha lifts his head and
Every movement and soft flinch of Chuuya’s pliant body ricochets in him. Then, the alpha lifts his head and
kisses the tip of the redhead’s nose.
He takes a second to let the pillowcase grazing his skin and Chuuya’s warm breath ghosting over his cheek ground him— /guide/ him.
“Just— let me say it, ok?”
Hesitantly, Chuuya’s head moves up; it’s enough of a nod to encourage Dazai.
He takes a second to let the pillowcase grazing his skin and Chuuya’s warm breath ghosting over his cheek ground him— /guide/ him.
“Just— let me say it, ok?”
Hesitantly, Chuuya’s head moves up; it’s enough of a nod to encourage Dazai.
“Because I get that there’s something going on with you, and I won’t ask what it is. But I want Chibi to know that I am here for you too and— I can /wait/. If you want me to.”
It’s a /promise/; a solemn vow.
Chuuya swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing down with a deaf ‘gulp’.
It’s a /promise/; a solemn vow.
Chuuya swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing down with a deaf ‘gulp’.
He seems to /compute/ the implications of the alpha’s words before letting out a noise from the back of his throat.
Then, he nods.
“I won’t ask either,” the redhead agrees, shifting the topic back to Dazai’s current situation.
A voice tells Dazai that it is a fair bargain.
Then, he nods.
“I won’t ask either,” the redhead agrees, shifting the topic back to Dazai’s current situation.
A voice tells Dazai that it is a fair bargain.
And the alpha is not even /mad/ that they changed the subject, because it feels like a step forward.
Because, before he refers to the man as a lover, a boyfriend, an omega, a /mate/—
He wants Chuuya to be his /best friend/.
They’re rocking the respective secrets, soothing
Because, before he refers to the man as a lover, a boyfriend, an omega, a /mate/—
He wants Chuuya to be his /best friend/.
They’re rocking the respective secrets, soothing
each other’s pain, and a sense of purpose blooms in Dazai.
/ No questions asked, just unspoken acceptance./
This is /new/ to him.
Through one-night-stands and the occasional short-lived relationships, he never had anything like this — though he longed for it all his life.
/ No questions asked, just unspoken acceptance./
This is /new/ to him.
Through one-night-stands and the occasional short-lived relationships, he never had anything like this — though he longed for it all his life.
But he has Chuuya, and Chuuya has him.
They’re partners, now.
They have each other’s back. Everything else — romance, longing, /need/ — can wait until tomorrow.
The thought steals a smile from the alpha.
He squeezes Chuuya’s hand, the one
They’re partners, now.
They have each other’s back. Everything else — romance, longing, /need/ — can wait until tomorrow.
The thought steals a smile from the alpha.
He squeezes Chuuya’s hand, the one
hooked around the black fabric of his t-shirt. His fingers slide in between Chuuya’s.
“Partners in crime?” he asks.
Chuuya puffs softly.
“Partners in crime,” he whispers, a response coming straight from the chest.
Then, the silence sets around them like dust.
“Partners in crime?” he asks.
Chuuya puffs softly.
“Partners in crime,” he whispers, a response coming straight from the chest.
Then, the silence sets around them like dust.
In silence, Chuuya circles Dazai’s body and glides into the alpha’s embrace, pressing his face against the man’s chest.
His purr resumes, sending vibrations right into Dazai’s body.
It plucks chords that Dazai didn’t even know were presents — the ones that make him /human/.
His purr resumes, sending vibrations right into Dazai’s body.
It plucks chords that Dazai didn’t even know were presents — the ones that make him /human/.
He read somewhere that an omega’s purring works like a cat’s — it heals, invisible but powerful — and… well, it certainly feels like that.
It’s with Chuuya’s presence lulling him that Dazai’s mind starts drifting away.
It’s unfair how hard it is to end this life.
It’s with Chuuya’s presence lulling him that Dazai’s mind starts drifting away.
It’s unfair how hard it is to end this life.
Dazai fantasized a hundred times about drowning himself, but he came to the conclusion that he doesn’t have enough willpower.
And in Dazai’s mind, almost in /response/ to the drowning, something resurfaces: the knowledge that he owns nothing /but/ the person hugging him.
And in Dazai’s mind, almost in /response/ to the drowning, something resurfaces: the knowledge that he owns nothing /but/ the person hugging him.
That’s the first night Chuuya spends in Dazai’s house.
His /new/ house.
Their home.
It’s a long night.
It’s filled with a silence so heavy and oppressing that even the usual sounds of the house creaking and adjusting seem swallowed by the darkness.
His /new/ house.
Their home.
It’s a long night.
It’s filled with a silence so heavy and oppressing that even the usual sounds of the house creaking and adjusting seem swallowed by the darkness.
But Chuuya—
Chuuya has one hand thrown over his hip, and it /weights/ over Dazai and grounds him and rocks him as the whiskey slips out of his system.
He’s hardwired to feel unwelcome in the world, yet tied to it by his own lack of purpose and fear of pain.
Chuuya has one hand thrown over his hip, and it /weights/ over Dazai and grounds him and rocks him as the whiskey slips out of his system.
He’s hardwired to feel unwelcome in the world, yet tied to it by his own lack of purpose and fear of pain.
However, surprisingly enough, he finds a safe space in Chuuya’s kisses.
A corner that is only his.
He can hide there till the storm raging inside him passes.
He can hide there forever.
Over time, they both realize that Chuuya moved in that same night and never left.
—
A corner that is only his.
He can hide there till the storm raging inside him passes.
He can hide there forever.
Over time, they both realize that Chuuya moved in that same night and never left.
—
When Chuuya first presented as an omega, the doctors found a lack of slick production.
Nothing major, they said.
It’ll get better, don’t worry, his parents added.
Chuuya, though, remained skeptical of the diagnosis. Something in it didn’t feel /right/.
The doctors gave him
Nothing major, they said.
It’ll get better, don’t worry, his parents added.
Chuuya, though, remained skeptical of the diagnosis. Something in it didn’t feel /right/.
The doctors gave him
pills that messed up his sleep schedule, and rarely showed an ounce of sympathy when he said that his heats felt /odd/. That it was /painful/.
You’ll grow, they said. Some bodies just need time.
Soon, though, Chuuya realized he was right.
It wasn’t just a matter of /time/.
You’ll grow, they said. Some bodies just need time.
Soon, though, Chuuya realized he was right.
It wasn’t just a matter of /time/.
The first time Chuuya tried to use sex toys, it hurt.
The first time he spent his heat with a partner — his first /boyfriend/, with the world-changing meaning of the word for a 17-year-old boy — it hurt /like a bitch/.
His heat partner, a classmate with more experience
The first time he spent his heat with a partner — his first /boyfriend/, with the world-changing meaning of the word for a 17-year-old boy — it hurt /like a bitch/.
His heat partner, a classmate with more experience
than him, asked with absent voice and no real interest if Chuuya ‘liked /it/‘.
Sex sounded like such a lame, old-people word at the time.
In hindsight, Chuuya remembers they ever only said ‘it’, shying away from any direct reference to what they were doing as if they could
Sex sounded like such a lame, old-people word at the time.
In hindsight, Chuuya remembers they ever only said ‘it’, shying away from any direct reference to what they were doing as if they could
regret it one day.
It was a /scary/ word and no, Chuuya did not. Fucking. Like. It.
He nodded and didn’t complain, though, because that was what he was /supposed/ to do.
It was the normal reaction to have, right? It would get better.
In the meantime, it just /hurt/.
It was a /scary/ word and no, Chuuya did not. Fucking. Like. It.
He nodded and didn’t complain, though, because that was what he was /supposed/ to do.
It was the normal reaction to have, right? It would get better.
In the meantime, it just /hurt/.
And Chuuya did not know much at the time, and he wasn’t too /good/ at listening to himself either (he isn’t, still) but one thing he knew:
/It’s not supposed to hurt this much./
It wasn’t, and it still isn’t, supposed to feel like torture. And other omegas told him many
/It’s not supposed to hurt this much./
It wasn’t, and it still isn’t, supposed to feel like torture. And other omegas told him many
marvelous things about knots, but the only conclusion Chuuya reached is that they are not /worth/ his suffering.
Because he never got better. It never passed.
The more he tried to shove the pain out of his mind, the more it /burned/.
The more he told himself to shut up and
Because he never got better. It never passed.
The more he tried to shove the pain out of his mind, the more it /burned/.
The more he told himself to shut up and
suck it up, to not /worry/ anyone, the fastest he grew to connect intimacy with pain.
Eventually the two were pulled taut, indistinguishable.
Fear of physical contact flourished in him over time and, even though Chuuya tried, he never knew where it stemmed from.
Eventually the two were pulled taut, indistinguishable.
Fear of physical contact flourished in him over time and, even though Chuuya tried, he never knew where it stemmed from.
It’s psychological, they say now.
Every time his body stays /alert/, incapable to relax, incapable to /communicate/ what’s wrong.
One thought, always the same, fills his mind: I’m gonna be in /pain/.
And the thing is— Chuuya /likes/ the idea of having sex. In theory.
Every time his body stays /alert/, incapable to relax, incapable to /communicate/ what’s wrong.
One thought, always the same, fills his mind: I’m gonna be in /pain/.
And the thing is— Chuuya /likes/ the idea of having sex. In theory.
He’s aroused by the idea, he longs for it despite everything.
It’s not his entire personality, not even his /priority/, but the idea is /not/ revolting to him.
And during heats— during heats, it’s like missing a limb.
He wants, and wants, and /wants/ never feeling /full/.
It’s not his entire personality, not even his /priority/, but the idea is /not/ revolting to him.
And during heats— during heats, it’s like missing a limb.
He wants, and wants, and /wants/ never feeling /full/.
His psychotherapist says he’ll find the key to /that/ part that still escapes him.
But it’s— hard to cope, in the meantime.
It’s hard to trust, and let himself be loved.
(Especially when Chuuya has a /talent/ for falling in love with horrible alphas. Or— well, he used to.
But it’s— hard to cope, in the meantime.
It’s hard to trust, and let himself be loved.
(Especially when Chuuya has a /talent/ for falling in love with horrible alphas. Or— well, he used to.
Dazai is different. He has to be.)
Very few people know; Atsushi, Akutagawa, his parents.
And if there is one person who helped him through it all, driving him home after bad dates and threatening boys who made him cry, it has always been—
“Thank you for meeting me, Ane-San.”
Very few people know; Atsushi, Akutagawa, his parents.
And if there is one person who helped him through it all, driving him home after bad dates and threatening boys who made him cry, it has always been—
“Thank you for meeting me, Ane-San.”
“Of course,” Kouyou says, from above the pastel blue ceramic mug. She only ordered matcha, and it’s so /typically her/ that Chuuya couldn’t but smile to himself. “I miss having you at home, lad.”
“I miss you too.”
“You sure you don’t want to move back in?”
“I miss you too.”
“You sure you don’t want to move back in?”
Chuuya bites back a sheepish, vaguely /guilty/ smile.
Yeah, he’s positive.
He likes living with Dazai. Actually, like might be an understatement.
Of course, Chuuya /does/ miss his sister.
Seeing her twice a week is not the same as every day.
That’s also why he asked Kouyou
Yeah, he’s positive.
He likes living with Dazai. Actually, like might be an understatement.
Of course, Chuuya /does/ miss his sister.
Seeing her twice a week is not the same as every day.
That’s also why he asked Kouyou
to have breakfast together (also because he wanted the pastel, ridiculously Instagram-worthy café they’re sitting at now) before his shift at the coffeeshop.
/That/ doesn’t mean Chuuya is ready to abandon his new routine with Dazai, made of after-work snuggles and morning kisses
/That/ doesn’t mean Chuuya is ready to abandon his new routine with Dazai, made of after-work snuggles and morning kisses
“Come on,” he says, gingerly. “I bet you’re happy to have the house all to yourself.”
“The only upside is that I don’t have to share /my/ closet space anymore.”
“W— I asked for /one/ shelf /one/ time!”
She squints, a smile dancing on her lips. “And your hats, dear?”
“The only upside is that I don’t have to share /my/ closet space anymore.”
“W— I asked for /one/ shelf /one/ time!”
She squints, a smile dancing on her lips. “And your hats, dear?”
/Ah/, she’s right.
“Fine, two shelves,” he amends.
In lieu of a reply Kouyou looks at him, brow furrowing ever so slightly.
“Anyway, I’m /dying/ to know. How are you finding your new home?”
Chuuya’s grip tightens around the pastel mug, the cappuccino warming his palms.
“Fine, two shelves,” he amends.
In lieu of a reply Kouyou looks at him, brow furrowing ever so slightly.
“Anyway, I’m /dying/ to know. How are you finding your new home?”
Chuuya’s grip tightens around the pastel mug, the cappuccino warming his palms.
He supposed this question would arrive sooner or later, yet he’s not even remotely /ready/ to answer it.
He likes the house; the space is nice, and big enough to coexist comfortably with Dazai.
It has a wide tub, and a rainfall shower spacious enough for at least three people.
He likes the house; the space is nice, and big enough to coexist comfortably with Dazai.
It has a wide tub, and a rainfall shower spacious enough for at least three people.
The open kitchen is modern, all white stone and fumé glasses, nestled in an open space area that connects with the western-style living room.
His room— well, let’s just say that Dazai wasn’t trying to fool him when he said the room was big and basked in sunlight.
His room— well, let’s just say that Dazai wasn’t trying to fool him when he said the room was big and basked in sunlight.
And, before he moved in, Dazai had rails mounted to the roof to allow Chuuya to hang a curtain for his nest, if he so pleases.
(Chuuya absolutely /wasn’t/ moved almost to tears by the gesture.
Of course.)
/And/ Dazai offered to share his own walk-in closet if needs be.
(Chuuya absolutely /wasn’t/ moved almost to tears by the gesture.
Of course.)
/And/ Dazai offered to share his own walk-in closet if needs be.
A /walk-in closet/.
Chuuya only ever saw them in movies, but apparently Dazai’s uncle is rich as fuck.
‘Mori-san likes to waste space, but I never use it,’ Dazai said with a shrug, further convincing Chuuya that he is /crazy/.
And Dazai—
/Well, he is rather different too./
Chuuya only ever saw them in movies, but apparently Dazai’s uncle is rich as fuck.
‘Mori-san likes to waste space, but I never use it,’ Dazai said with a shrug, further convincing Chuuya that he is /crazy/.
And Dazai—
/Well, he is rather different too./
Every day feels /domestic/.
Before he can start to properly describe how he’s liking the new house (and more specifically his new /housemate/), Chuuya’s mind flies back to earlier that morning.
To Dazai.
***
The alpha crawls out of his bedroom when Chuuya is already up and
Before he can start to properly describe how he’s liking the new house (and more specifically his new /housemate/), Chuuya’s mind flies back to earlier that morning.
To Dazai.
***
The alpha crawls out of his bedroom when Chuuya is already up and
rinsing his mug in the kitchen sink, ready to go out.
Dazai has one hand sunk in messy bed hair, the other tugging at the edge of the grey t-shirt hanging off his shoulder.
The worn-out fabric, overstretched by too many washes, reveals a portion of alabaster collarbone.
Dazai has one hand sunk in messy bed hair, the other tugging at the edge of the grey t-shirt hanging off his shoulder.
The worn-out fabric, overstretched by too many washes, reveals a portion of alabaster collarbone.
He looks half-asleep in a way that steals a /hiccup/ out of Chuuya’s heart.
Unruly curls kiss his neck, frizzing like waves under his earlobe and softening the sharp angles of the alpha’s face.
“‘Morning,” Dazai mumbles, running a hand through his already tousled fringe.
Unruly curls kiss his neck, frizzing like waves under his earlobe and softening the sharp angles of the alpha’s face.
“‘Morning,” Dazai mumbles, running a hand through his already tousled fringe.
/Adorable/.
Chuuya tilts his head towards a steaming cup of coffee on the table. “Morning. Breakfast’s ready.”
The alpha ignores it.
Instead he pads to Chuuya, draping himself over the omega’s shoulders. Chuuya throws his head back, against Dazai’s solid, /burning/ chest.
Chuuya tilts his head towards a steaming cup of coffee on the table. “Morning. Breakfast’s ready.”
The alpha ignores it.
Instead he pads to Chuuya, draping himself over the omega’s shoulders. Chuuya throws his head back, against Dazai’s solid, /burning/ chest.
“I’mmmm shleewepy, Chwibiiii~”
“In your own words, Mackerel,” Chuuya teases, letting the alpha nuzzle against his cheek. “Did you sleep well?”
“/Surprisingly/. Thank you for making breakfast.”
Chuuya /hmm/s. “You’re welcome.”
The gushing water fills his ears. He has to meet
“In your own words, Mackerel,” Chuuya teases, letting the alpha nuzzle against his cheek. “Did you sleep well?”
“/Surprisingly/. Thank you for making breakfast.”
Chuuya /hmm/s. “You’re welcome.”
The gushing water fills his ears. He has to meet
Kouyou in thirty, but he might
have waited around a little longer just to say good morning to Dazai.
“Going out so early?”
“Unlike you, I have things to do,” Chuuya says.
He can feel Dazai’s lips grazing his earlobe, his voice covering Chuuya like a blanket.
“Hm, /pity/.”
have waited around a little longer just to say good morning to Dazai.
“Going out so early?”
“Unlike you, I have things to do,” Chuuya says.
He can feel Dazai’s lips grazing his earlobe, his voice covering Chuuya like a blanket.
“Hm, /pity/.”
Chuuya only moves after closing the tap, dutifully placing the clean mug on the dish rack. He swirls in place, raising on his tippy-toes to brush his cheek against Dazai’s neck.
The alpha lets out a deep noise from the back of his throat, gently tugging Chuuya’s face closer
The alpha lets out a deep noise from the back of his throat, gently tugging Chuuya’s face closer
into his skin, against his scent glands.
Dazai’s scent is uncomplicated, unlike his personality.
It’s salty ocean air and peppermint and new paper.
It opens Chuuya’s lungs, it makes him /breathe/.
Dazai’s scent is uncomplicated, unlike his personality.
It’s salty ocean air and peppermint and new paper.
It opens Chuuya’s lungs, it makes him /breathe/.
And the omega /does/ inhale it all in. He rests his lips against Dazai’s skin in a dry, butterfly-light kiss.
His warm breath ghosts over the alpha’s neck.
He can feel Dazai /shudder/ in anticipation.
Chuuya is not sure why scenting each other in the morning, rocking in the
His warm breath ghosts over the alpha’s neck.
He can feel Dazai /shudder/ in anticipation.
Chuuya is not sure why scenting each other in the morning, rocking in the
other’s presence, became a daily /ritual/ — but he’s not complaining either.
What he /knows/ is that the proximity, the slow touches, the scents mixing are a calming magic over both of them.
The thing is—
Once he allowed himself to /touch/ Dazai, Chuuya never managed to stop.
What he /knows/ is that the proximity, the slow touches, the scents mixing are a calming magic over both of them.
The thing is—
Once he allowed himself to /touch/ Dazai, Chuuya never managed to stop.
Chuuya’s not sure how far they can go before crushing right into his little problem, but it’s getting harder to /care/ with every day they live together.
He’s still musing over it when Dazai gently kisses his forehead and pushes away, reaching for the kitchen table.
He’s still musing over it when Dazai gently kisses his forehead and pushes away, reaching for the kitchen table.
He sits on the empty chair in front of the coffee Chuuya prepared for him.
Milk, two sugars, and an /acceptable/ amount of caffeine.
“Chuuya’s an angel,” the alpha hums under his breath.
Chuuya snorts.
“Yeah, Chuuya’s a goddamn angel,” he says. “How’s your schedule today?”
Milk, two sugars, and an /acceptable/ amount of caffeine.
“Chuuya’s an angel,” the alpha hums under his breath.
Chuuya snorts.
“Yeah, Chuuya’s a goddamn angel,” he says. “How’s your schedule today?”
Dazai wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Hideous,” he growls. “Back-to-back classes. And I’ll swing by the library, so I might not be able to see you and Baby Vamp at the cafe. The lovely library lady threatened me that if I don’t return my overdue books, she’ll give me a smack.”
“The books for the Realism assignment? You /still/ have to return them?”
“I /forgot/,” Dazai whines, like the big baby he is.
Chuuya clicks his tongue. “For three weeks? Do you have /no/ respect?”
“Nah,” Dazai sing-songs, looking way too pleased with his answer.
“I /forgot/,” Dazai whines, like the big baby he is.
Chuuya clicks his tongue. “For three weeks? Do you have /no/ respect?”
“Nah,” Dazai sing-songs, looking way too pleased with his answer.
“You fucking deserve that smack, Mackerel,” Chuuya says.
Dazai’s long fingers wrap around the mug. He ponders over the comment, then he seems to /brush it off/.
Instead, the brunet tilts his head to the side.
“When do you start your shift?”
Chuuya shrugs the question away.
Dazai’s long fingers wrap around the mug. He ponders over the comment, then he seems to /brush it off/.
Instead, the brunet tilts his head to the side.
“When do you start your shift?”
Chuuya shrugs the question away.
“Noon. But I’m meeting my sister for breakfast like… now.”
Dazai’s head perks up, an interested light sparkling in the depth of his golden-brown eyes, but he doesn’t comment and Chuuya doesn’t articulate.
He likes Dazai, but he’s not ready to introduce a new alpha to Kouyou.
Dazai’s head perks up, an interested light sparkling in the depth of his golden-brown eyes, but he doesn’t comment and Chuuya doesn’t articulate.
He likes Dazai, but he’s not ready to introduce a new alpha to Kouyou.
“Where are you going?”
“Tsukiyoka, I think? The pictures on socials are good.”
“I see.”
The alpha drawls it out as if looking for Instagram reviews of coffeeshops is /absurd/, but Chuuya ignores him.
Dazai is just being /petty/ to have some extra attention.
“Tsukiyoka, I think? The pictures on socials are good.”
“I see.”
The alpha drawls it out as if looking for Instagram reviews of coffeeshops is /absurd/, but Chuuya ignores him.
Dazai is just being /petty/ to have some extra attention.
Which works… usually.
Today, though, Chuuya glances at the time on his phone and realizes he’s /wildly/ late.
/Shit./
“Anyway, I’ll see you after I close?” He says, padding across the living room and to the genkan. “I was thinking we should go grocery shopping later.”
Today, though, Chuuya glances at the time on his phone and realizes he’s /wildly/ late.
/Shit./
“Anyway, I’ll see you after I close?” He says, padding across the living room and to the genkan. “I was thinking we should go grocery shopping later.”
Dazai’s still petting the mug as an impish grin spreads over his lips. “Someone needs help to reach the wine shelf~”
/Well, that’s not exactly wrong./
“No, I need to buy /real/ food other than your canned shit and the sake that comes from fucks know where,” Chuuya grumbles,
/Well, that’s not exactly wrong./
“No, I need to buy /real/ food other than your canned shit and the sake that comes from fucks know where,” Chuuya grumbles,
grabbing his key and cards and shoving them in his black jeans’ pockets.
He catches Dazai staring at his ass, but only shoots the alpha a grin — his blood singing with something akin to /gratification/.
Dazai hmms, still distracted.
“And why does Chuuya need me, then?”
He catches Dazai staring at his ass, but only shoots the alpha a grin — his blood singing with something akin to /gratification/.
Dazai hmms, still distracted.
“And why does Chuuya need me, then?”
“Because it’ll be food you’ll actually eat for a change, ‘Samu, so you’re coming too.”
“That’s why Chibi bought so many Tupperware containers? And here I thought it was just compulsive buying.”
“Very funny. Those are for the leftovers /we/ will eat.”
Dazai’s eyebrows jumps up
“That’s why Chibi bought so many Tupperware containers? And here I thought it was just compulsive buying.”
“Very funny. Those are for the leftovers /we/ will eat.”
Dazai’s eyebrows jumps up
“I’m sorry, /we/?” He echoes, sarcasm dripping from the question. “Do we have guests? You and who…?”
“/You/, genius.”
“Yep, not gonna happen.”
Chuuya scowls.
Seriously, now? He doesn’t have time for this.
“Osamu. You /have/ to eat real food.”
“But I don’t like real food~”
“/You/, genius.”
“Yep, not gonna happen.”
Chuuya scowls.
Seriously, now? He doesn’t have time for this.
“Osamu. You /have/ to eat real food.”
“But I don’t like real food~”
The dragged-out protest might not make much sense to most people, but it /does/ to those who know Dazai.
Eating is a chore, for the alpha. He never listens to his body, or downright refuses to do so.
His taste leans towards canned crab and sweets.
His appetite, inexistent.
Eating is a chore, for the alpha. He never listens to his body, or downright refuses to do so.
His taste leans towards canned crab and sweets.
His appetite, inexistent.
Chuuya’s crusade to prove to the brunet that he /does/ like healthy food — he just never cared enough to cook something decent — recently encountered some difficulties, but he’s determined to prove his point.
Because Dazai is stubborn—
too bad Chuuya is downright /mulish/.
Because Dazai is stubborn—
too bad Chuuya is downright /mulish/.
“Come on, be a big alpha.” The omega says as he reaches for his leather jacket in the coat rack. “I gotta run now, but I’ll see you later?”
In lieu of a proper answer Dazai cocks his head to the side a little, throwing him a glance full of expectation.
Chuuya rolls his eyes.
In lieu of a proper answer Dazai cocks his head to the side a little, throwing him a glance full of expectation.
Chuuya rolls his eyes.
Because here’s the thing about Dazai: he gets /needy and lazy/ in the morning, once he actually gets a full night of sleep.
The alpha likes to act high and mighty, but he will turn into a big, spoiled baby until the daily dose of caffeine kicks in.
But Chuuya doesn’t mind.
The alpha likes to act high and mighty, but he will turn into a big, spoiled baby until the daily dose of caffeine kicks in.
But Chuuya doesn’t mind.
He actually /likes/ this side of Dazai, which resonates with the most protective part of his inner omega.
So Chuuya dutifully walks back to the kitchen table, to where Dazai is /waiting/ for him, and lets the alpha reach for his cheek.
The caress is /delicate/, featherlight.
So Chuuya dutifully walks back to the kitchen table, to where Dazai is /waiting/ for him, and lets the alpha reach for his cheek.
The caress is /delicate/, featherlight.
The moment their skin touches, ripples of electricity crawl up Chuuya’s limbs.
He has to bite back a beam, a stupidly in love one.
“I’m bullied. Chuuya wants me to eat shitty food and then leaves me alone.” Dazai pouts, boyishly and only half-joking. “That’s /mean/, y’know?”
He has to bite back a beam, a stupidly in love one.
“I’m bullied. Chuuya wants me to eat shitty food and then leaves me alone.” Dazai pouts, boyishly and only half-joking. “That’s /mean/, y’know?”
“I’ll kiss you only if you promise to eat whatever I cook.”
“/Hm/. I can /try/,” Dazai drawls, mischief shining in his eyes as he tilts his chin up to redeem his well-earned kiss.
“Good boy,” Chuuya whispers.
He has barely the time to murmur the praise before their lips meet
“/Hm/. I can /try/,” Dazai drawls, mischief shining in his eyes as he tilts his chin up to redeem his well-earned kiss.
“Good boy,” Chuuya whispers.
He has barely the time to murmur the praise before their lips meet
halfway, but it still /resonates/ between them.
It’s husky and sensual and /endearing/, lost into the space between them and swallowed into the kiss.
Want flickers down the omega’s body, gripping his stomach, as Dazai’s soft lips part ever so slightly under his mouth.
It’s husky and sensual and /endearing/, lost into the space between them and swallowed into the kiss.
Want flickers down the omega’s body, gripping his stomach, as Dazai’s soft lips part ever so slightly under his mouth.
With one hand Dazai is still holding the mug, but the other rests lightly on Chuuya’s hip as the alpha drives him in for a longer, much more /satisfying/ goodbye kiss.
Absently, Chuuya hums against Dazai’s lips.
He can taste coffee and sugar and /need/ on the alpha’s mouth.
Absently, Chuuya hums against Dazai’s lips.
He can taste coffee and sugar and /need/ on the alpha’s mouth.
Though he tries to ignore the latter, Chuuya /does/ thaw into the contact.
His fingers run through dark hair, combing through the soft locks.
“I /really/ need to go,” Chuuya says, though his entire body protests.
“I’ll see you later, Chibi,” the alpha murmurs, voice breathy.
His fingers run through dark hair, combing through the soft locks.
“I /really/ need to go,” Chuuya says, though his entire body protests.
“I’ll see you later, Chibi,” the alpha murmurs, voice breathy.
Chuuya can barely dig for a decent reply — something that’s not a starstruck /sigh/.
He can’t just /moan/ that he’ll see Dazai later, it would be incredibly embarrassing.
Unfortunately, his brain seems set on making him sound like a schoolgirl. And he’s sure he shouldn’t kiss
He can’t just /moan/ that he’ll see Dazai later, it would be incredibly embarrassing.
Unfortunately, his brain seems set on making him sound like a schoolgirl. And he’s sure he shouldn’t kiss
his roommate so frequently but, then again, he just can’t stop.
“Don’t be a menace,” he murmurs, hand still in Dazai’s hair. He tugs at it lightly, playfully.
The alpha smiles, smoothing the wrinkles on the front of Chuuya’s jacket.
“And where’s the fun in that?”
***
“Don’t be a menace,” he murmurs, hand still in Dazai’s hair. He tugs at it lightly, playfully.
The alpha smiles, smoothing the wrinkles on the front of Chuuya’s jacket.
“And where’s the fun in that?”
***
“Chuuya?”
Chuuya winces, dragged back to the cafe — to his sister’s glare studying him, part curious and part amused.
Kouyou’s mirth is honed as a blade, and it cuts right under his skin.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “You were saying?”
Wow, spacing out while fantasising about Dazai
Chuuya winces, dragged back to the cafe — to his sister’s glare studying him, part curious and part amused.
Kouyou’s mirth is honed as a blade, and it cuts right under his skin.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “You were saying?”
Wow, spacing out while fantasising about Dazai
That’s a new level of embarrassing.
The boy touches his cheek, checking the temperature to make sure he didn’t turn into a blushy mess.
“So, tell me about this new roommate of yours,” she prompts, with that calibrated nonchalance that Chuuya has /learned/ to read through.
The boy touches his cheek, checking the temperature to make sure he didn’t turn into a blushy mess.
“So, tell me about this new roommate of yours,” she prompts, with that calibrated nonchalance that Chuuya has /learned/ to read through.
When she talks like this, slow and poised and with direct questions that only seem innocent, his sister is /fishing for intel/.
He’s still convinced that Kouyou could work for the yakuza. She could build a flourishing career out of her talent for /forcing/ informations out of
He’s still convinced that Kouyou could work for the yakuza. She could build a flourishing career out of her talent for /forcing/ informations out of
people with her polite, delicate ways.
Though Chuuya can’t really be too mad about it when it’s for his /own good/.
“Well, Dazai’s a cool person. He’s smart. Like, real smart,” is the first thing that comes to Chuuya’s mind. “He’s a lit student. Good family, normal life.”
Though Chuuya can’t really be too mad about it when it’s for his /own good/.
“Well, Dazai’s a cool person. He’s smart. Like, real smart,” is the first thing that comes to Chuuya’s mind. “He’s a lit student. Good family, normal life.”
The last one is a white lie, but does he want his mother snooping her nose in their business? Nah.
“Is he cute?”
Chuuya almost chokes on his cappuccino. “Ane-San!”
“You’re blushing, dear,” Kouyou just says, voice monotone.
And the worst thing is, /she’s right/.
“Is he cute?”
Chuuya almost chokes on his cappuccino. “Ane-San!”
“You’re blushing, dear,” Kouyou just says, voice monotone.
And the worst thing is, /she’s right/.
“Shut up,” he mumbles, trying to find the words to let Kouyou /visualize/ Dazai.
The alpha is handsome, though he is /hard/ to describe.
He’s tall, and willowy, and often hunched over whatever book he’s skimming through, but Chuuya wouldn’t describe him as /big/.
The alpha is handsome, though he is /hard/ to describe.
He’s tall, and willowy, and often hunched over whatever book he’s skimming through, but Chuuya wouldn’t describe him as /big/.
Way too often, his tall frame disappears in the background.
Sometimes, he seems to disappear in his own thoughts.
Yes, he’s much taller than Chuuya — lean, long fingers and limbs — but he’s not /well-rooted/ on the ground.
He’s not someone that Chuuya would define as solid.
Sometimes, he seems to disappear in his own thoughts.
Yes, he’s much taller than Chuuya — lean, long fingers and limbs — but he’s not /well-rooted/ on the ground.
He’s not someone that Chuuya would define as solid.
“He’s fine,” he compromises, eventually.
Kouyou glares at him, then lifts the cup to her lips. Her eyelashes flicker as she drinks her tea.
“Since when you settle for /fine/?”
“/I/ don’t have to be /fine/ with anything. Dazai’s just a friend.”
Kouyou squints. “Is he, huh.”
Kouyou glares at him, then lifts the cup to her lips. Her eyelashes flicker as she drinks her tea.
“Since when you settle for /fine/?”
“/I/ don’t have to be /fine/ with anything. Dazai’s just a friend.”
Kouyou squints. “Is he, huh.”
“We’re friends,” he repeats, the word choking him.
“Then /why/ do you have an alpha’s — your roommate, I’m assuming — scent all over you?”
Ah, shit.
He runs his fingers through his hair.
He’s not lying, in theory. They’re not /just/ friends, but they’re nothing more either.
“Then /why/ do you have an alpha’s — your roommate, I’m assuming — scent all over you?”
Ah, shit.
He runs his fingers through his hair.
He’s not lying, in theory. They’re not /just/ friends, but they’re nothing more either.
“Chuuya,” Kouyou begins, tenderly. Her hand reaches forward, long fingers covering Chuuya’s knuckles.
“You’re my /only/ baby brother. You said no more alphas, and frankly— it was a /smart/ decision.
I don’t know what changed with this boy, and I’d like to understand.
“You’re my /only/ baby brother. You said no more alphas, and frankly— it was a /smart/ decision.
I don’t know what changed with this boy, and I’d like to understand.
But you are /living/ with this person too, and I just want to know that you are being /safe/.”
“I /am/—“
A shadow passes through Kouyou’s face, hardening her delicate features. “He didn’t pressure you into something you didn’t want to do, did he?”
“No!”
“I /am/—“
A shadow passes through Kouyou’s face, hardening her delicate features. “He didn’t pressure you into something you didn’t want to do, did he?”
“No!”
Kouyou flinches under the reaction — it’s one second, her composure regained in the blink of an eye.
“Are you /sure/?”
“Yes!.”
“…Do I have to call mum? Uncle Paul?”
““/Ane-San/,” he begs, vaguely strangled. The rest rolls out of his mouth /unguarded/. “I /like/ him.”
“Are you /sure/?”
“Yes!.”
“…Do I have to call mum? Uncle Paul?”
““/Ane-San/,” he begs, vaguely strangled. The rest rolls out of his mouth /unguarded/. “I /like/ him.”
And— this was uncalled for. He just said they were /friends/.
Akutagawa is wrong.
He’s not a Taurus or a Leo Rising, he’s a whole /circus/ of clowns.
Kouyou stares at him, eyes roaming over his face, lips pressed in a thin line.
The omega has to remind himself that she’s just
Akutagawa is wrong.
He’s not a Taurus or a Leo Rising, he’s a whole /circus/ of clowns.
Kouyou stares at him, eyes roaming over his face, lips pressed in a thin line.
The omega has to remind himself that she’s just
looking out for him, but emboldening himself to admit that he’s be falling fast and hard in love is /difficult/.
Dazai is not coaxing him into anything, but… but Chuuya /did/ fall for him despite his better judgement. He did try to stop himself, and crumbled the moment Dazai
Dazai is not coaxing him into anything, but… but Chuuya /did/ fall for him despite his better judgement. He did try to stop himself, and crumbled the moment Dazai
looked at him with tears at the corners of his eyes and asked to kiss him.
What does it say about him?
What will it say about him when Dazai inevitably leaves?
“Ok, /ok/, I lied,” he says, voice gruff. “I’m an idiot for him. Gone. It might be—“ Ugh. “Love. This time. I guess”
What does it say about him?
What will it say about him when Dazai inevitably leaves?
“Ok, /ok/, I lied,” he says, voice gruff. “I’m an idiot for him. Gone. It might be—“ Ugh. “Love. This time. I guess”
Kouyou’s shoulders straighten up. Her expression hardens, and Chuuya feels like a /prey/.
His cheeks burn.
She stares at him from across the table.
“Seriously?”, she seems to say.
And, honestly, flushed and squirming in place, Chuuya is asking himself the same damn thing.
His cheeks burn.
She stares at him from across the table.
“Seriously?”, she seems to say.
And, honestly, flushed and squirming in place, Chuuya is asking himself the same damn thing.
“Chuuya,” Kouyou finally drawls, eyes narrowed into slits. “I thought you would be talking me through your new house, not your new /boyfriend/.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Chuuya hums. /Yet/, a treacherous voice provides. He pushes it in a corner. “It’s— complicated. You know it.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Chuuya hums. /Yet/, a treacherous voice provides. He pushes it in a corner. “It’s— complicated. You know it.”
“Have you talked to him about your heats yet?”
“No.”
/And I have no intention to, not anytime soon./
Silence hangs between them.
His sister tilts her head, eyebrows jumping up. Chuuya barely manages to hold her gaze out of panic and sheer stubbornness.
Then Kouyou lets
“No.”
/And I have no intention to, not anytime soon./
Silence hangs between them.
His sister tilts her head, eyebrows jumping up. Chuuya barely manages to hold her gaze out of panic and sheer stubbornness.
Then Kouyou lets
out a /sigh/, dropping her head in a way Chuuya decides is a little too dramatic.
She shows him her open palm, opening and closing her manicured fingers as if Chuuya is supposed to hand her something.
His dignity, he supposes.
“…Do you /at least/ have a picture?”
/Oh/.
She shows him her open palm, opening and closing her manicured fingers as if Chuuya is supposed to hand her something.
His dignity, he supposes.
“…Do you /at least/ have a picture?”
/Oh/.
“Do I /have/ to?” He protests, weakly, though he still fishes for his phone and scrolls through the pictures.
“Come on, don’t be so defensive,” she tuts back.
Gosh, she’s having too much fun with it.
“I’m not,” he mumbles.
Her grin is /sharp/. “Then just show me.”
“Come on, don’t be so defensive,” she tuts back.
Gosh, she’s having too much fun with it.
“I’m not,” he mumbles.
Her grin is /sharp/. “Then just show me.”
The first picture Chuuya finds is of Dazai sound asleep on the couch.
He looks like an angel from a Raphael painting.
His lips are parted and his hair a dark halo spread across the pillow. His hands are hidden up tot the knee by the crop jumper with a chick emoji Chuuya bought
He looks like an angel from a Raphael painting.
His lips are parted and his hair a dark halo spread across the pillow. His hands are hidden up tot the knee by the crop jumper with a chick emoji Chuuya bought
him right after he decided to move in.
It’s— /intimate/.
Too intimate.
So Chuuya swipes to the next image, shuffling through the pictures and picking one of he and Dazai that Akutagawa took at the cafe.
This one is /definitely/ a safer choice.
It’s— /intimate/.
Too intimate.
So Chuuya swipes to the next image, shuffling through the pictures and picking one of he and Dazai that Akutagawa took at the cafe.
This one is /definitely/ a safer choice.
They were bantering, and Ryu (the traitor!) said he just /had/ to capture it in 4K for their future wedding.
/Or/ for the funeral if they ended up killing each other.
Chuuya hands Kouyou the phone, and her dark eyes glimmer with interest and expectation.
“Be kind,” he growls.
/Or/ for the funeral if they ended up killing each other.
Chuuya hands Kouyou the phone, and her dark eyes glimmer with interest and expectation.
“Be kind,” he growls.
“Unlikely,” the girl beams, accepting the device with barely contained enthusiasm. “/Ah/,” she says, though. She sounds surprised.
Which… is /not/ the reaction Chuuya expected.
Kouyou stares at the screen, lips twitching up. Her shoulders tremble.
Wait—
Is she laughing?
Which… is /not/ the reaction Chuuya expected.
Kouyou stares at the screen, lips twitching up. Her shoulders tremble.
Wait—
Is she laughing?
“What?” he snaps.
His sister lets out a delicate — but unmissable — chuckle.
“He’s tall.”
Chuuya’s eyebrows jumps up. “Trust me, he loves to remind me.”
“And cute.” She hesitates. “But—“
Here goes nothing.
Chuuya /knew/ there was going to be a ‘but,’ sooner than later.
His sister lets out a delicate — but unmissable — chuckle.
“He’s tall.”
Chuuya’s eyebrows jumps up. “Trust me, he loves to remind me.”
“And cute.” She hesitates. “But—“
Here goes nothing.
Chuuya /knew/ there was going to be a ‘but,’ sooner than later.
“But?” he prompts, voice dropping.
“/But/ side by side, you look like the baby alien and tall guy from Star Wars.”
“Ane-San!” He cries, launching himself over the table to steal back his phone.
Unfazed, Kouyou stretches her arm, lifting the object /way/ out of Chuuya’s reach.
“/But/ side by side, you look like the baby alien and tall guy from Star Wars.”
“Ane-San!” He cries, launching himself over the table to steal back his phone.
Unfazed, Kouyou stretches her arm, lifting the object /way/ out of Chuuya’s reach.
“I’m joking,” she says, though she doesn’t sound sorry in the slightest. “Calm down.”
Dropping back on the chair, Chuuya pouts.
His sister is telling him that he looks like an alien. Dazai is tall and cute and whatever, while he’s a tiny, cooing /monster/.
How is that fair?
Dropping back on the chair, Chuuya pouts.
His sister is telling him that he looks like an alien. Dazai is tall and cute and whatever, while he’s a tiny, cooing /monster/.
How is that fair?
It must be a violation of sibling code.
Clearly, this is Yosano’s fault for dragging Kouyou in a Disney marathon. However, Chuuya loves his future sister-in-law too much to hold her accountable for Kouyou’s /bullying/.
Although—
Clearly, this is Yosano’s fault for dragging Kouyou in a Disney marathon. However, Chuuya loves his future sister-in-law too much to hold her accountable for Kouyou’s /bullying/.
Although—
Chuuya tries not to think too much of it, but Kouyou /never/ praised one of his crushes before.
Quietly, Kouyou hands him back the phone. The thin line of her lips betrays nothing.
“Very well,” she says, voice leveled. “Just let me know if you ever need a shovel to bury him.”
Quietly, Kouyou hands him back the phone. The thin line of her lips betrays nothing.
“Very well,” she says, voice leveled. “Just let me know if you ever need a shovel to bury him.”
Chuuya smiles indulgently, reaching for his mug. “Terrorizing three of my exes wasn’t enough?”
“Four,” Kouyou reminds him. “That Mishima guy?”
Chiusa grimaces, letting out a ‘ugh’.
He /forgot/ about Mishima. Trauma, most likely.
They used to date in high school, and it was
“Four,” Kouyou reminds him. “That Mishima guy?”
Chiusa grimaces, letting out a ‘ugh’.
He /forgot/ about Mishima. Trauma, most likely.
They used to date in high school, and it was
the last of a long series of bad decisions.
One night, Mishima sent him a text saying, ‘thinking about knotting your pretty ass, babe.’
Which was a /nice/ thing to do, right?
Unexpected, since they were on a date and Mishima just excused himself to go to the toilet, but hot.
One night, Mishima sent him a text saying, ‘thinking about knotting your pretty ass, babe.’
Which was a /nice/ thing to do, right?
Unexpected, since they were on a date and Mishima just excused himself to go to the toilet, but hot.
Then Chuuya’s phone pinged /again/.
‘Dinner w/ family is 💀 5 minutes and I’ll be at your house 🔥’
Too bad they were on a /first anniversary date/, not a fucking dinner with family.
And those texts were /definitely/ not meant for Chuuya.
‘Dinner w/ family is 💀 5 minutes and I’ll be at your house 🔥’
Too bad they were on a /first anniversary date/, not a fucking dinner with family.
And those texts were /definitely/ not meant for Chuuya.
In hindsight, Mishima wasn’t the smartest person around, no. He wasn’t even a /good/ person.
Chuuya would have been /wasted/ with him.
And, eventually, he realized deserved so much more.
He knew it, he /knew/ he owed to himself to get rid of the vermin like Mishima, but—
Chuuya would have been /wasted/ with him.
And, eventually, he realized deserved so much more.
He knew it, he /knew/ he owed to himself to get rid of the vermin like Mishima, but—
But holding the proof of /yet another/ boyfriend cheating on him, pretending to be /cool/ with his situation and using rut as an excuse to sleep around— it burned.
It hurt.
He remembers Kouyou — captain of the archery club, at the time — cocking an arrow in Mishima’s direction
It hurt.
He remembers Kouyou — captain of the archery club, at the time — cocking an arrow in Mishima’s direction
and /demanding/ an apology for Chuuya’s sake.
That part was definitely worth the ache.
“That one was tragic,” Chuuya says, though, smiling against the rim of his mug. The cappuccino’s foam tickles his upper lip, sweet an airy.
It’s /good/ that he can laugh about it, now.
That part was definitely worth the ache.
“That one was tragic,” Chuuya says, though, smiling against the rim of his mug. The cappuccino’s foam tickles his upper lip, sweet an airy.
It’s /good/ that he can laugh about it, now.
He didn’t let those people destroy him.
He’s still human, he’s still falling in love; hoping.
He’s cautious, but he’s /healing/.
Kouyou nods. “Yeah, that’s what I tried to tell you too, dear. Your radar is horrible.”
Chuuya smirks. “Guess I learned from uncle Arthur.”
He’s still human, he’s still falling in love; hoping.
He’s cautious, but he’s /healing/.
Kouyou nods. “Yeah, that’s what I tried to tell you too, dear. Your radar is horrible.”
Chuuya smirks. “Guess I learned from uncle Arthur.”
“/Very/ true,” she hums, bobbing her head in agreement. “So… you’re happy?”
The concern in her voice paints a fleeting smile on Chuuya’s lips.
“I am,” he says.
And, for once, he wants to be right.
“Just remember you can always come home. /And/ call me if this guy fucks up.”
The concern in her voice paints a fleeting smile on Chuuya’s lips.
“I am,” he says.
And, for once, he wants to be right.
“Just remember you can always come home. /And/ call me if this guy fucks up.”
Chuuya rolls his eyes. “Yep, thanks.”
“I’ll ask Akiko to help, too”
For some reason, though, Chuuya’s mind flies back to Dazai’s sleeping face, to his touch and kisses.
To his brattiness when he doesn’t get enough attention and his ridiculous coffee orders.
His heart /sings/
“I’ll ask Akiko to help, too”
For some reason, though, Chuuya’s mind flies back to Dazai’s sleeping face, to his touch and kisses.
To his brattiness when he doesn’t get enough attention and his ridiculous coffee orders.
His heart /sings/
“Yeah…” he smiles. “Maybe don’t.”
// I hope there won’t be need for that. Because Dazai *feels* like the right one.
Please, *please*, let him be the one.//
—
After a few weeks of living together Dazai has come to the conclusion that he is, indeed, in love with Chuuya.
// I hope there won’t be need for that. Because Dazai *feels* like the right one.
Please, *please*, let him be the one.//
—
After a few weeks of living together Dazai has come to the conclusion that he is, indeed, in love with Chuuya.
The omega isn’t only pretty, and smart, and /nice/— he is a /good person/, the kind of human being Odasaku looks up to.
He’s perfect all-round.
‘Aren’t you idolizing this guy?’, Ango asked one night, at Lupin.
Dazai waved the comment away.
‘You don’t know him,’ he said.
He’s perfect all-round.
‘Aren’t you idolizing this guy?’, Ango asked one night, at Lupin.
Dazai waved the comment away.
‘You don’t know him,’ he said.
Odasaku didn’t add anything to the conversation, back then, but Dazai /knows/.
He knows Odasaku will just love the Chibikko, once they finally meet.
Because, if Odasaku is everything Dazai aspires to be, Chuuya personifies everything he desperately needs to /own/.
He knows Odasaku will just love the Chibikko, once they finally meet.
Because, if Odasaku is everything Dazai aspires to be, Chuuya personifies everything he desperately needs to /own/.
And maybe in another life Dazai would have hated the omega — that visceral hatred that comes from the incendiary mix of jealousy and sexual tension, like being cut from the same material and yet /so/ far apart — but…
In /this/ universe, the only one Dazai is allowed to know?
In /this/ universe, the only one Dazai is allowed to know?
God, he is /pulled/ towards Chuuya every waking moment.
The thing is, he’s in love for the first time and it’s /marvelous/ and scary and out of control.
“Ah! Do you mind if we sit for a while?” Chuuya asks, pointing at one of the benches that punctuate the promenade. They are
The thing is, he’s in love for the first time and it’s /marvelous/ and scary and out of control.
“Ah! Do you mind if we sit for a while?” Chuuya asks, pointing at one of the benches that punctuate the promenade. They are
luckier than most, Dazai supposes, because the road from their house to the closest mini-market is breathtaking.
The pedestrian boulevard skirts the ocean, offering a first-class view of the sun sinking into the sea.
He never noticed, because he never went grocery shopping. He
The pedestrian boulevard skirts the ocean, offering a first-class view of the sun sinking into the sea.
He never noticed, because he never went grocery shopping. He
never bought food if not on his way home from Lupin, and never sober.
Now he’s discovering beauty in things that had always been right under his nose.
He pads after Chuuya, sitting on the bench and carefully accommodating the plastic bag between his feet. The redhead flashes
Now he’s discovering beauty in things that had always been right under his nose.
He pads after Chuuya, sitting on the bench and carefully accommodating the plastic bag between his feet. The redhead flashes
him a smirk.
Thousand golden ripples from the ocean reflect in his eyes, and Dazai’s heart stutters.”
“It wasn’t so bad, huh?”
Dazai twists his nose.
“It was awful,” he whines, making the other frown.
“Why?”
“Chuuya made me pay!”
“Hah?! ‘Cause I paid last time, asshole!”
Thousand golden ripples from the ocean reflect in his eyes, and Dazai’s heart stutters.”
“It wasn’t so bad, huh?”
Dazai twists his nose.
“It was awful,” he whines, making the other frown.
“Why?”
“Chuuya made me pay!”
“Hah?! ‘Cause I paid last time, asshole!”
Not that Dazai /knew/ it, since he just helped himself to a fridge that magically spawned food.
“Oh? Did you?” The alpha grins, eyes shining with mischief. “But, you see, I don’t remember! So I’m my mind, it never happened.”
“W— I’m gonna fucking drown you.”
“That’s violent~”
“Oh? Did you?” The alpha grins, eyes shining with mischief. “But, you see, I don’t remember! So I’m my mind, it never happened.”
“W— I’m gonna fucking drown you.”
“That’s violent~”
“Your /death/ is gonna to be violent if you don’t stop being an idiot,” Chuuya growls.
Now, Dazai met /several/ feisty omegas in his life, but no one has been as petty and adorable as Chuuya.
How can he ask Dazai to stop poking fun at him, when he’s so /easy/ to rile up?
Now, Dazai met /several/ feisty omegas in his life, but no one has been as petty and adorable as Chuuya.
How can he ask Dazai to stop poking fun at him, when he’s so /easy/ to rile up?
“Don’t be dramatic, now~ remember what Akutagawa says about your Leo Rising~”
On cue, Chuuya rolls his eyes to the sky.
“Can you /not/ remind me?! The only Leo I want is DiCaprio.”
Dazai pouts, brown irises turning dark. “Ugh, seriously? Chibi’s taste is so ugly and tacky~”
On cue, Chuuya rolls his eyes to the sky.
“Can you /not/ remind me?! The only Leo I want is DiCaprio.”
Dazai pouts, brown irises turning dark. “Ugh, seriously? Chibi’s taste is so ugly and tacky~”
Chuuya stares at him, almost searching for an answer.
“Well, I’m friends with you. Of course there’s something wrong with my taste in people,” he says, deadpan.
The word sinks in Dazai like a stone.
It’s a heavy word, /friend/.
He cannot remember when it was enough.
“Well, I’m friends with you. Of course there’s something wrong with my taste in people,” he says, deadpan.
The word sinks in Dazai like a stone.
It’s a heavy word, /friend/.
He cannot remember when it was enough.
“Are you seriously going to be a dick about my celebrity crush?”Chuuya nudges him, playfully, poking a sharp elbow in between Dazai’s ribs.
The brunet flinches.
“He’s overrated.”
“You’re /jealous/.”
The alpha feels a pang in his chest.
Yes, he /is/ jealous of Chuuya.
The brunet flinches.
“He’s overrated.”
“You’re /jealous/.”
The alpha feels a pang in his chest.
Yes, he /is/ jealous of Chuuya.
He’s always been territorial, but this— with Chuuya, everything seems different. Amplified to the point it’s hard to keep his expression straight and his voice colorless.
“What if I /am/?” He volleys back.
He managed to keep his timbre leveled but his scent hardened, cold mint
“What if I /am/?” He volleys back.
He managed to keep his timbre leveled but his scent hardened, cold mint
taking over Chuuya’s scent still lingering on him.
From the way the omega’s eyes snap open and his lips part, he didn’t expect /that/ reply.
“That’s stupid,” he says.
“Maybe,” Dazai allows, carefully. “But I find myself being stupid around you.” He frowns. “In a /good/ way.”
From the way the omega’s eyes snap open and his lips part, he didn’t expect /that/ reply.
“That’s stupid,” he says.
“Maybe,” Dazai allows, carefully. “But I find myself being stupid around you.” He frowns. “In a /good/ way.”
“How can you b—“
“Because I like you, Chuuya, stop pretending you don’t /know/,” he hears himself interrupting.
It’s a little /harsher/ than he intended, but he’s also leaning forward and—
And Chuuya is /retreating/
The alpha knows he should stop when he sees Chuuya’s body
“Because I like you, Chuuya, stop pretending you don’t /know/,” he hears himself interrupting.
It’s a little /harsher/ than he intended, but he’s also leaning forward and—
And Chuuya is /retreating/
The alpha knows he should stop when he sees Chuuya’s body
turning stiff, and his eyes go from puzzled to /worried/, but the truth is spilling from his lips and he kept it down for too long.
“I know,” Chuuya hums.
Dazai would like to /scream/. Chuuya retreated into his shield and it’s like the fucking train station all over again.
“I know,” Chuuya hums.
Dazai would like to /scream/. Chuuya retreated into his shield and it’s like the fucking train station all over again.
Just, this time, Dazai tells himself he won’t let him go.
He has no idea how people say ‘hey, we should date!’ but he’s totally going to try his best.
Improv is key, right?
“And what do you…?” he asks, letting his voice trail off.
Chuuya looks /pained/ as he stares at him.
He has no idea how people say ‘hey, we should date!’ but he’s totally going to try his best.
Improv is key, right?
“And what do you…?” he asks, letting his voice trail off.
Chuuya looks /pained/ as he stares at him.
“I like you, obviously,” the omega murmurs, a little choked up. It does /not/ sound like a good thing.
“Then what’s stopping us?”
“Dazai—“
“What’s scaring you?” he pushes forward, voice strained by impatience.
“You don’t /understand/.”
Slowly, Dazai grabs Chuuya’s hand.
“Then what’s stopping us?”
“Dazai—“
“What’s scaring you?” he pushes forward, voice strained by impatience.
“You don’t /understand/.”
Slowly, Dazai grabs Chuuya’s hand.
His eyes are alert as he scans Chuuya’s face.
He’s been told that sometimes, under the right light, his irises turn honey-gold.
To be honest, Dazai only ever looked in the mirror and saw an inhuman red in the depth of his own eyes. But Odasaku said that, and he believes Odasaku
He’s been told that sometimes, under the right light, his irises turn honey-gold.
To be honest, Dazai only ever looked in the mirror and saw an inhuman red in the depth of his own eyes. But Odasaku said that, and he believes Odasaku
He squeezes the omega’s hand reassuringly.
“Then help me,” he whispers. He can feel Chuuya’s fingers twitch under his grip, but doesn’t let go. “Help me understand what you /need/, Chuuya. Talk to me.”
// Give me the instruments to give you *anything* you want. //
“Then help me,” he whispers. He can feel Chuuya’s fingers twitch under his grip, but doesn’t let go. “Help me understand what you /need/, Chuuya. Talk to me.”
// Give me the instruments to give you *anything* you want. //
Chuuya looks down; at his hands, at his shaky, tense knees.
At his fingers trapped in Dazai’s warm hold.
“I do like you,” he repeats. “A lot.”
The bench might as well have been pulled away from under Dazai, because he feels like he’s /falling/.
“Ok,” he murmurs.
At his fingers trapped in Dazai’s warm hold.
“I do like you,” he repeats. “A lot.”
The bench might as well have been pulled away from under Dazai, because he feels like he’s /falling/.
“Ok,” he murmurs.
“But I’ve been thinking, and— I don’t think this will work. You’re you, and I’m— /well/. I’m me.”
/Me/.
It sounds like there’s so much more to that word; a world of self-loathing.
“Why shouldn’t it work?”
“Because you’re too fucking nice, Dazai,” Chuuya snaps.
/Me/.
It sounds like there’s so much more to that word; a world of self-loathing.
“Why shouldn’t it work?”
“Because you’re too fucking nice, Dazai,” Chuuya snaps.
Dazai gawks, taken aback by how Chuuya’s voice turned into a barely contained roar.
“How is that a bad thing?”
“Because you’re hot and smart and I was talking to Ane-san as if you are my boyfriend, Dazai, but you’re /not/.
Shit, I don’t want you to be my fucking boyfriend.”
“How is that a bad thing?”
“Because you’re hot and smart and I was talking to Ane-san as if you are my boyfriend, Dazai, but you’re /not/.
Shit, I don’t want you to be my fucking boyfriend.”
That /stung/.
It keeps stinging, and Dazai’s ears ring as if they words just slapped him.
He lets go of Chuuya’s hand, and the redhead seems /crushed/ at the lack of contact but, /honestly/, he needs to stop with the mixed signals.
Because it’s ok if Chuuya doesn’t want him.
It keeps stinging, and Dazai’s ears ring as if they words just slapped him.
He lets go of Chuuya’s hand, and the redhead seems /crushed/ at the lack of contact but, /honestly/, he needs to stop with the mixed signals.
Because it’s ok if Chuuya doesn’t want him.
It’s fine, seriously.
But then /why/ did he kiss him? Why was he so intimate, so /affectionate/?
And part of Dazai feels absolutely /blindsided/, until he realizes that Chuuya’s eyes are glossy.
The awareness that Chuuya is on the verge of /crying/ dawns over the alpha,
But then /why/ did he kiss him? Why was he so intimate, so /affectionate/?
And part of Dazai feels absolutely /blindsided/, until he realizes that Chuuya’s eyes are glossy.
The awareness that Chuuya is on the verge of /crying/ dawns over the alpha,
stopping his mind.
An invisible hand hit the brakes of his heart, and the whiplash still hurts like a bitch.
He never meant to push Chuuya /this/ far.
“Chibi—“
“I don’t want you to grow tired of me.”
It’s a strangled whisper, yet it has the strength of a thunderclap.
An invisible hand hit the brakes of his heart, and the whiplash still hurts like a bitch.
He never meant to push Chuuya /this/ far.
“Chibi—“
“I don’t want you to grow tired of me.”
It’s a strangled whisper, yet it has the strength of a thunderclap.
“I won’t.”
“You /will/.” The redhead laughs softly, blinking tears. “I promise you will, because everybody else fucking did. And I fucking need a /martyr/ and—” He breathes in, and out, and Dazai wants to pull him into the tightest hug in the universe but his limbs are frozen in
“You /will/.” The redhead laughs softly, blinking tears. “I promise you will, because everybody else fucking did. And I fucking need a /martyr/ and—” He breathes in, and out, and Dazai wants to pull him into the tightest hug in the universe but his limbs are frozen in
place. “And I won’t ask you that.”
His eyebrows jump up in disbelief. It’s like fighting in the dark.
“I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”
“Hah, good fucking riddance. Let me tell you something, then; I had six boyfriends. You know how many lasted past my first heat?”
His eyebrows jump up in disbelief. It’s like fighting in the dark.
“I promised I wouldn’t leave you.”
“Hah, good fucking riddance. Let me tell you something, then; I had six boyfriends. You know how many lasted past my first heat?”
Slowly, Dazai shakes his head.
He dreads the answer, but there’s nothing as /heartbreaking/ as the broken resignation in Chuuya’s eyes.
“I don’t know.”
Chuuya’s lips twist into a smile — it’s ferocious, hurt.
“Zero,” he hissed. “They cheated on me, every single one of them.”
He dreads the answer, but there’s nothing as /heartbreaking/ as the broken resignation in Chuuya’s eyes.
“I don’t know.”
Chuuya’s lips twist into a smile — it’s ferocious, hurt.
“Zero,” he hissed. “They cheated on me, every single one of them.”
Dazai gapes.
“They /what/?”
There is not a single world in which he can imagine someone like /Chuuya/ being cheated on.
Still, the redhead shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Yeah.” He lets out a bark of a laughter —pained, ashamed. “Most of my friends said I kinda asked for it.”
“They /what/?”
There is not a single world in which he can imagine someone like /Chuuya/ being cheated on.
Still, the redhead shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Yeah.” He lets out a bark of a laughter —pained, ashamed. “Most of my friends said I kinda asked for it.”
Dazai’s jaw almost falls to the floor as his blood turns to ice. He’s familiar with this particular shade of self-hatred, but Chuuya—
Chuuya has /nothing/ to hate himself for.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he says, voice /low/.
“You say that now.”
“I’d say that /anytime/.”
Chuuya has /nothing/ to hate himself for.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he says, voice /low/.
“You say that now.”
“I’d say that /anytime/.”
“You don’t know that,” the omega fights back, voice hard.
And the worst thing is, he’s looking at Dazai like the alpha is /crazy/.
Like he can’t understand.
And perhaps Dazai won’t understand, but how can he even /try/ if Chuuya won’t tell him? Even the breeze from the ocean
And the worst thing is, he’s looking at Dazai like the alpha is /crazy/.
Like he can’t understand.
And perhaps Dazai won’t understand, but how can he even /try/ if Chuuya won’t tell him? Even the breeze from the ocean
seems colder, now. Sharper.
The salt in the air slaps Dazai’s skin.
“Chuuya, you’re finding excuses for some assholes—“
“I’m saying that I’m an omega who can’t take a /knot/, Dazai,” Chuuya says, voice /rising/. When it drops into a murmur, it’s eerie. “Here. Now you know.”
The salt in the air slaps Dazai’s skin.
“Chuuya, you’re finding excuses for some assholes—“
“I’m saying that I’m an omega who can’t take a /knot/, Dazai,” Chuuya says, voice /rising/. When it drops into a murmur, it’s eerie. “Here. Now you know.”
Dazai blinks.
“I don’t understand,” he admits.
It doesn’t sound like a good reason to hurt someone.
Yet, he would /lie/ if he said that he didn’t hear his dreams of spending future heats and ruts with Chuuya crack loudly at the revelation.
“Obviously.”
“So you can’t…?”
“I don’t understand,” he admits.
It doesn’t sound like a good reason to hurt someone.
Yet, he would /lie/ if he said that he didn’t hear his dreams of spending future heats and ruts with Chuuya crack loudly at the revelation.
“Obviously.”
“So you can’t…?”
Chuuya shudders.
“/Don’t/ ask, please.” The omega sniffles. “I don’t /know/ why, but sex is painful. And a nonexistent sex life is not exactly what you bargain for when you date an omega, yes?”
Yes. No.
/It depends/.
Dazai inhales, mulling over an answer.
He already decided.
“/Don’t/ ask, please.” The omega sniffles. “I don’t /know/ why, but sex is painful. And a nonexistent sex life is not exactly what you bargain for when you date an omega, yes?”
Yes. No.
/It depends/.
Dazai inhales, mulling over an answer.
He already decided.
“Chuuya,” he starts, then stops. He gnaws at his bottom lip, sinking his teeth in the soft flesh, trying to /figure out/ the better way to tackle the matter. “I—“
/Thank you for trusting me, but I genuinely don’t care./
It doesn’t matter and never will — at least to Dazai.
/Thank you for trusting me, but I genuinely don’t care./
It doesn’t matter and never will — at least to Dazai.
But it’s painfully clear that it /does/ matter to Chuuya, and that’s what makes this reply so damn difficult.
He just wishes the omega wouldn’t look as if he already decided for both of them.
Because he knows he has to tread lightly, but has no idea /how/. He never cared about
He just wishes the omega wouldn’t look as if he already decided for both of them.
Because he knows he has to tread lightly, but has no idea /how/. He never cared about
hurting someone’s feelings before.
The alpha breathes in the salty air before continuing, voice shaky:
“Ok. I don’t want to invalidate your feelings, but I—“
“No, I /understand/,” the redhead interrupts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up in the first place.”
The alpha breathes in the salty air before continuing, voice shaky:
“Ok. I don’t want to invalidate your feelings, but I—“
“No, I /understand/,” the redhead interrupts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up in the first place.”
And the way he says it is so /broken/, so /disenchanted/ and—
Shit.
Now there’s a lump of cotton in Dazai’s throat, and trying to talk around it /hurts/.
“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” he tries.
It comes out a little /desperate/.
Shit.
Now there’s a lump of cotton in Dazai’s throat, and trying to talk around it /hurts/.
“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” he tries.
It comes out a little /desperate/.
From the sad, watery smile Chuuya flashes him he knows he’s going about it the wrong way.
It sounds like he’s /dumping/ Chuuya when it’s the last thing on his mind.
“It’s ok. You deserve a true partner. Someone who will help you through your rut and give you pups, and—“
It sounds like he’s /dumping/ Chuuya when it’s the last thing on his mind.
“It’s ok. You deserve a true partner. Someone who will help you through your rut and give you pups, and—“
“I don’t give a damn about pups,” Dazai growls.
Adoption is a possibility, anyway. Not that Dazai ever wanted children anyway.
“/Still/,” Chuuya insists. “I like you and respect myself enough to spare both of us a relationship destined to fail.”
Adoption is a possibility, anyway. Not that Dazai ever wanted children anyway.
“/Still/,” Chuuya insists. “I like you and respect myself enough to spare both of us a relationship destined to fail.”
While he says that, the redhead’s lips stretch in a wider smile — one sharp and almost impersonal.
It’s a /shield/, not a smile.
A weapon.
And Chuuya’s eyes, ever so /open/ and kind and bright, look mildly terrifying now.
Inhuman, much like Dazai is used to see /himself/.
It’s a /shield/, not a smile.
A weapon.
And Chuuya’s eyes, ever so /open/ and kind and bright, look mildly terrifying now.
Inhuman, much like Dazai is used to see /himself/.
And the alpha really can understand /why/, but the knowledge that Chuuya doesn’t trust him to love him /regardless/ still jabs at him.
But Chuuya clearly had plenty of time to let himself be convinced that he’ll not be enough for anybody.
Certainly not for an alpha.
But Chuuya clearly had plenty of time to let himself be convinced that he’ll not be enough for anybody.
Certainly not for an alpha.
And he had /years/ to prepare this little monologue, because he’s not even /listening/ to Dazai.
He doesn’t care about what the alpha has to say, too scared of the answer, his walls too high and thick and built on pain.
And the thing is— pain accompanies Dazai’s life, it
He doesn’t care about what the alpha has to say, too scared of the answer, his walls too high and thick and built on pain.
And the thing is— pain accompanies Dazai’s life, it
often dictated its journey, but Chuuya?
Chuuya deserves so much better.
“I genuinely don’t care about /sex/,” he says, slowly. “Or the dynamics of it.”
Chuuya looks sturrbonly back at him.
“You say that now.”
“There are /ways/—“
In the moment Chuuya rolls his eyes, as if
Chuuya deserves so much better.
“I genuinely don’t care about /sex/,” he says, slowly. “Or the dynamics of it.”
Chuuya looks sturrbonly back at him.
“You say that now.”
“There are /ways/—“
In the moment Chuuya rolls his eyes, as if
he expected it, Dazai has the confirmation that the redhead tried this conversation in his head a hundred times.
“Yeah. Everybody said that, and then they all got /tired/ of trying to look for /ways/ and went to find a normal omega instead.”
“Chuuya, you /are/ normal.”
“Yeah. Everybody said that, and then they all got /tired/ of trying to look for /ways/ and went to find a normal omega instead.”
“Chuuya, you /are/ normal.”
The omega lets out a small, defensive chuckle.
That, and the following /reply/ almost make Dazai scream in frustration, tension sinking deep in his muscles.
“Yeah. Ask any of my exes how normal I am.”
“Are you seriously defending those assholes now?!” Dazai almost /bellows/.
That, and the following /reply/ almost make Dazai scream in frustration, tension sinking deep in his muscles.
“Yeah. Ask any of my exes how normal I am.”
“Are you seriously defending those assholes now?!” Dazai almost /bellows/.
“I’m not,” Chuuya hisses, as if the comment bit him. “But there are things and omega /should/ be able to do, Dazai.”
“Says who?” he rumbles, low as a thunderstorm. “And who the /hell/ cares anyway?”
And his voice is cold, dry — the opposite of the scorching feelings
“Says who?” he rumbles, low as a thunderstorm. “And who the /hell/ cares anyway?”
And his voice is cold, dry — the opposite of the scorching feelings
bubbling inside him, /burning/ him.
For some reason, it seems to ignite even more anger in Chuuya’s words.
His walls are cracked, his fake composure lost.
“So you could fucking sit here and promise me you’d stay with some kind of fucking factory waste, hah?”
For some reason, it seems to ignite even more anger in Chuuya’s words.
His walls are cracked, his fake composure lost.
“So you could fucking sit here and promise me you’d stay with some kind of fucking factory waste, hah?”
The moment Chuuya’s tone spikes, roared from his lungs, something in Dazai /snaps/.
“I /would/,” he screams back.
His own voice sounds unfamiliar to Dazai’s ears; he never raises it.
“I /love/ you. Of course I’d promise.”
Chuuya’s eyes grow wide, his mouth closes shut.
“I /would/,” he screams back.
His own voice sounds unfamiliar to Dazai’s ears; he never raises it.
“I /love/ you. Of course I’d promise.”
Chuuya’s eyes grow wide, his mouth closes shut.
A few people from other benches and from the promenade throw glances in their direction, but Dazai pretends not to notice.
He stares at the omega, who blinks like he’s just been slapped.
Slowly, Dazai swallows around the lump in his throat and reaches again for Chuuya’s hand.
He stares at the omega, who blinks like he’s just been slapped.
Slowly, Dazai swallows around the lump in his throat and reaches again for Chuuya’s hand.
The redhead doesn’t move, eyes wide and lips shaped in a ‘o’ of utter surprise.
(He looks like a stray, like a dog who experienced warmth and acceptance for the first time.
And, honestly—
no one should look /this/ surprised about being loved.)
“I love you,” Dazai says again.
(He looks like a stray, like a dog who experienced warmth and acceptance for the first time.
And, honestly—
no one should look /this/ surprised about being loved.)
“I love you,” Dazai says again.
It’s gentler, this time.
It takes all his courage and Chuuya grows very, very still under his fingers, but he goes on. He has to.
“And I really don’t /care/ about that, so stop putting words in my mouth.”
“But—“
He shakes his head, halting the redhead mid-sentence.
It takes all his courage and Chuuya grows very, very still under his fingers, but he goes on. He has to.
“And I really don’t /care/ about that, so stop putting words in my mouth.”
“But—“
He shakes his head, halting the redhead mid-sentence.
“Look— when I kissed you, I had no expectation at all,” he says. “But I’m not going to listen while you insult yourself. So don’t make me /command/ you to calm down, yeah?”
Chuuya flinches.
He blinks — once, twice, looking /lost/.
“…Yeah.” he murmurs. “Ok.”
“Breathe, Chibi.”
Chuuya flinches.
He blinks — once, twice, looking /lost/.
“…Yeah.” he murmurs. “Ok.”
“Breathe, Chibi.”
Chuuya frowns. His eyes are still glossy and his cheeks flushed, but at least his shoulders seem a little less tense now.
“Don’t command me.”
Dazai grins. “I won’t. I’m just suggesting.”
“Well, don’t /suggest/,” the omega growls.
“See? That’s the gremlin attitude I like~”
“Don’t command me.”
Dazai grins. “I won’t. I’m just suggesting.”
“Well, don’t /suggest/,” the omega growls.
“See? That’s the gremlin attitude I like~”
He’s sure he caught a /smile/, however weak, flash across Chuuya’s face.
“Shut up,” the omega hums. Still, he /does/ take a few deep breaths before speaking again. The auburn locks of his fringe cover his eyes. “I— sorry. This is /not/ how I thought this conversation would go.”
“Shut up,” the omega hums. Still, he /does/ take a few deep breaths before speaking again. The auburn locks of his fringe cover his eyes. “I— sorry. This is /not/ how I thought this conversation would go.”
/ There wasn’t going to be a *conversation* at all, in Chuuya’s plans. /
“/Clearly/,” Dazai hums, squeezing his hand.
Tentatively, Chuuya squeezes back. He leans in, softly bumping his head against Dazai’s chest.
“Thank you,” he hums.
“You have nothing to thank me for.”
“/Clearly/,” Dazai hums, squeezing his hand.
Tentatively, Chuuya squeezes back. He leans in, softly bumping his head against Dazai’s chest.
“Thank you,” he hums.
“You have nothing to thank me for.”
“I /do/,” Chuuya replies, his voice muffled by the breeze and by his face pressed against Dazai’s body. “Thank you for accepting me. And letting me talk.”
/You didn’t give me much of a chance,/ Dazai thinks to himself.
Instead, though, he circles his arms around Chuuya’s
/You didn’t give me much of a chance,/ Dazai thinks to himself.
Instead, though, he circles his arms around Chuuya’s
shoulders — /enveloping/ the omega in his warmth, in his scent. It channels the unspoken yet loud promise that he’s not going anywhere, no matter what.
He bends over the omega, brushing his cheek against the soft crown of Chuuya’s head.
“Of course. You can talk all you need.”
He bends over the omega, brushing his cheek against the soft crown of Chuuya’s head.
“Of course. You can talk all you need.”
“It’s just so not fucking /fair…” Chuuya’s voice trembles, dying out in a pitiful wheeze. “Ah, great, I’m crying now. Shit.” He sniffles. “That’s so lame.”
In response, Dazai just hugs him /tight/
“You’re going to ruin your mascara,” he says.
“Hah. Nice try, it’s waterproof.”
In response, Dazai just hugs him /tight/
“You’re going to ruin your mascara,” he says.
“Hah. Nice try, it’s waterproof.”
“Well, anyway, don’t clean your snot on my shirt,” he adds, voice light.
It’s his best attempt at clearing the air, and his heart flutters as he hears the feeble sound of Chuuya’s giggle.
“It’s a shitty shirt anyway.”
“Says the king of tacky clothes.”
“Shut up, Mackerel.”
It’s his best attempt at clearing the air, and his heart flutters as he hears the feeble sound of Chuuya’s giggle.
“It’s a shitty shirt anyway.”
“Says the king of tacky clothes.”
“Shut up, Mackerel.”
The remark lacks bite, but it’s enough Chuuya-esque to reassure Dazai about the redhead’s mental state.
As he keeps Chuuya close, diving his nose in the tousled, soft mass of the boy’s long hair, he tries to be for Chuuya that solid, reassuring presence Odasaku has always been
As he keeps Chuuya close, diving his nose in the tousled, soft mass of the boy’s long hair, he tries to be for Chuuya that solid, reassuring presence Odasaku has always been
For him.
He has a hunch Chuuya needs a friend, now — not only a boyfriend, but a /guardian/.
Someone he can lean on, rely on.
“I’m sorry.” God, the omega’s voice sounds so /small/. “This is embarrassing.”
“It’s ok, Chibi” Dazai whispers back, nose sunk in Chuuya’s hair.
He has a hunch Chuuya needs a friend, now — not only a boyfriend, but a /guardian/.
Someone he can lean on, rely on.
“I’m sorry.” God, the omega’s voice sounds so /small/. “This is embarrassing.”
“It’s ok, Chibi” Dazai whispers back, nose sunk in Chuuya’s hair.
It smells /sweet/, of vanilla shampoo and Chuuya’s scent. “It’s ok— you’re fine. I’m here.” He feels Chuuya’s shoulders /tremble/ before they drop, strengthless. “I’ll always be here for you.”
“So—“
“Hm?”
“Is this a good moment to say that I think I’m in love with you, too?”
“So—“
“Hm?”
“Is this a good moment to say that I think I’m in love with you, too?”
Dazai /beams/, and he’s /glad/ he’s sitting down because he fears for a second that his legs might give up.
He’ll take ‘*I think* I love you.’
He’ll take insecurity.
He’ll take every crumble of love Chuuya will give him, until he’s calmer and ready to have a conversation.
He’ll take ‘*I think* I love you.’
He’ll take insecurity.
He’ll take every crumble of love Chuuya will give him, until he’s calmer and ready to have a conversation.
“But—“ Chuuya continues, before Dazai can even /think/ of kissing the living breath out the redhead. “/But/ you have to promise me one thing.”
…Well, that sounds dreadful.
Dazai nods, slightly worried about what Chuuya is going to ask.
It surely doesn’t /sound/ like a good
…Well, that sounds dreadful.
Dazai nods, slightly worried about what Chuuya is going to ask.
It surely doesn’t /sound/ like a good
premise, and his knee-jerk reaction is to stop the redhead before he can speak and ruin the moment.
But that wouldn’t be /fair/ of Chuuya’s feelings, right?
So he forces himself to speak.
“Of course.”
“If it becomes too much, leave.”
/Don’t lie to me, ever; just let me go./
But that wouldn’t be /fair/ of Chuuya’s feelings, right?
So he forces himself to speak.
“Of course.”
“If it becomes too much, leave.”
/Don’t lie to me, ever; just let me go./
And Dazai would rather not say anything at all, because he never wants to leave - he never will - but he still bobs his head in silent agreement.
However, he also pulls away, freeing Chuuya from the embrace only to rest both his hands on the omega’s shoulders.
He searches for
However, he also pulls away, freeing Chuuya from the embrace only to rest both his hands on the omega’s shoulders.
He searches for
Chuuya’s eyes, for the glittery paths of tears on the boy’s cheeks.
The blue expanse of the ocean opens up in front of them /and/ in Chuuya’s eyes.
“I promise,” he says, just because Chuuya needs to hear it — because he wants the omega to feel safe.
It’s just a reassurance.
The blue expanse of the ocean opens up in front of them /and/ in Chuuya’s eyes.
“I promise,” he says, just because Chuuya needs to hear it — because he wants the omega to feel safe.
It’s just a reassurance.
But, as he leans in and cups Chuuya’s face and closes their distance, pressing their lips together in a kiss that is /ever/ so soft, he’s also saying no.
// No, I will never walk away.
What kind of idiot would I be? //
(But, in hindsight—
What kind of idiot /is/ he?)
—
// No, I will never walk away.
What kind of idiot would I be? //
(But, in hindsight—
What kind of idiot /is/ he?)
—
Much to chuuya’s surprise, Dazai eats real food without a single complaint that night.
When they get home — walking the rest of the promenade hand in hand, Dazai /whining/ when Chuuya has to let him go to fish for the apartment’s keys — Chuuya makes a beeline for the kitchen.
When they get home — walking the rest of the promenade hand in hand, Dazai /whining/ when Chuuya has to let him go to fish for the apartment’s keys — Chuuya makes a beeline for the kitchen.
He starts cooking while Dazai puts the groceries in the fridge and stores them in the pantry, the soft ambient music of an acoustic Spotify playlist filling the already easy silence.
It’s a /domestic/ scene, almost romantic in it’s movie-like simplicity, and Chuuya is not sure
It’s a /domestic/ scene, almost romantic in it’s movie-like simplicity, and Chuuya is not sure
he /deserves/ it— he’s not sure it’ll last.
He’ll make the most of it meanwhile.
He’ll remember Dazai humming softly to a song, arms stretched to store a pack of cookies on the shelves Chuuya can never reach.
He’ll remember the playful light in the alpha’s eyes when he glances
He’ll make the most of it meanwhile.
He’ll remember Dazai humming softly to a song, arms stretched to store a pack of cookies on the shelves Chuuya can never reach.
He’ll remember the playful light in the alpha’s eyes when he glances
at him and goes, “so Chibi will always need me and never leave.”
Chuuya throws a dish sponge at him, missing on purpose.
And then he /feels/ Dazai’s stare on him.
He looks at the omega /mesmerized/, big brown eyes almost refusing to blink as he follows the redhead’s movements.
Chuuya throws a dish sponge at him, missing on purpose.
And then he /feels/ Dazai’s stare on him.
He looks at the omega /mesmerized/, big brown eyes almost refusing to blink as he follows the redhead’s movements.
When Chuuya throws a glance behind his shoulder and asks if Dazai never watched his mother cook, the alpha’s face closes into a frown.
The alpha doesn’t reply immediately, just shakes his head pondering over the answer.
“No,” he says. His voice echoes dry, /hollow/.
The alpha doesn’t reply immediately, just shakes his head pondering over the answer.
“No,” he says. His voice echoes dry, /hollow/.
Then, he smiles, the ice-cold smile that looks like he’s /burying a body/. “I like watching Chuuya, though” he adds — to which Chuuya /absolutely/ doesn’t blush.
Mindful of his promise of making Dazai real food, the omega cooks vegetables and rice and an omelette he saw in a
Mindful of his promise of making Dazai real food, the omega cooks vegetables and rice and an omelette he saw in a
French cookbook he stole from uncles Paul and Arthur.
Dazai grabs greedy mouthfuls of everything, looking mildly /sheepish/ that someone would go through the pain of cooking for him.
(What he doesn’t know — what he seems incapable to /believe/ — is that it’s no pain at /all/.
Dazai grabs greedy mouthfuls of everything, looking mildly /sheepish/ that someone would go through the pain of cooking for him.
(What he doesn’t know — what he seems incapable to /believe/ — is that it’s no pain at /all/.
Not to Chuuya.
Not if it’s for /Dazai/, not if it’s to make him happy.
Because Dazai will have to /live up/ to his promises — and maybe it’s too early to gets his hopes up yet — but his reassurances already meant to Chuuya more than the alpha can begin to fathom.)
Not if it’s for /Dazai/, not if it’s to make him happy.
Because Dazai will have to /live up/ to his promises — and maybe it’s too early to gets his hopes up yet — but his reassurances already meant to Chuuya more than the alpha can begin to fathom.)
Chuuya supposes Dazai is not being a little bitch about the food because the boy doesn’t want to put further weight on Chuuya’s shoulders after their conversation, but— he won’t /lie/, it’s a good feeling.
When they curl up under the blankets with a movie, Dazai’s arms around
When they curl up under the blankets with a movie, Dazai’s arms around
Chuuya’s waist and his head pressed against Dazai’s chest, the omega finds himself in wondering why happiness stings in such an unfamiliar way.
Why does it feel as if he’s not used to the feeling enough appreciate it — to appreciate this as something made to last.
Why does it feel as if he’s not used to the feeling enough appreciate it — to appreciate this as something made to last.
To appreciate Dazai as someone who will make an effort to stay.
He tries not to mull over it too much though, letting Dazai’s warm hand lazily comb through his hair to the point he almost falls asleep half-movie, relishing in the sense of /peace/.
He tries not to mull over it too much though, letting Dazai’s warm hand lazily comb through his hair to the point he almost falls asleep half-movie, relishing in the sense of /peace/.
Maybe it’s not much, but the conversation with Kouyou and the aftermath of his confession to Dazai left him feel /lighter/.
And later that night, when the omega is in the bathroom and standing in front of the mirror, brushing his teeth in an worn-out crop tee and shorts he
And later that night, when the omega is in the bathroom and standing in front of the mirror, brushing his teeth in an worn-out crop tee and shorts he
recycled as PJs, he hears Dazai in the corridor and /stops/.
He hears the boy padding to his room, the clack of the door, the soft creak of the hinges.
A /crazy/ idea blooms in his mind and— he might as well try, /right/?
“Dazai?” he calls, eyeing the bathroom’s door.
He hears the boy padding to his room, the clack of the door, the soft creak of the hinges.
A /crazy/ idea blooms in his mind and— he might as well try, /right/?
“Dazai?” he calls, eyeing the bathroom’s door.
He hasn’t called the alpha by first name ever since that afternoon, secretly and stupidly afraid to spoil the name.
He hears the alpha stop and slowly marching back to the bathroom, poking his head in.
“Yes, Chibi?”
Chuuya takes a mental deep breath in, emboldening himself
He hears the alpha stop and slowly marching back to the bathroom, poking his head in.
“Yes, Chibi?”
Chuuya takes a mental deep breath in, emboldening himself
for what he’s about to propose.
It may seem stupid, but it /is/ kind of a big deal for him. And—
/God./
Ok.
They did this /already/ and it was /ok/, yet now it feels like a leap of faith.
Chuuya raises a hand to signal Dazai to wait as he rinses his mouth.
It may seem stupid, but it /is/ kind of a big deal for him. And—
/God./
Ok.
They did this /already/ and it was /ok/, yet now it feels like a leap of faith.
Chuuya raises a hand to signal Dazai to wait as he rinses his mouth.
Dazai leans against the doorframe at the outskirts of his peripheral view, relaxed and patiently waiting, crossing willowy arms over his chest.
“This is adding unnecessary suspense,” the alpha hums, voice dripping amusement.
Chuuya flips him off without even /looking/.
“This is adding unnecessary suspense,” the alpha hums, voice dripping amusement.
Chuuya flips him off without even /looking/.
He closes the tap— and maybe he’s being slow on purpose after the comment, because karma is a petty bitch but Chuuya is /worse/.
Then he drops the toothbrush back into the glass tumbler, and inhales sharply
“Ch—“
“We are together /together/, right?” he asks, turning to Dazai.
Then he drops the toothbrush back into the glass tumbler, and inhales sharply
“Ch—“
“We are together /together/, right?” he asks, turning to Dazai.
The alpha’s eyes widen, caught off guard by the question. He straightens up.
“If you want to,” he tries.
“So— do you want to maybe stay in my room?”
The alpha’s tall body tenses, the laziness in his crossed arms immediately substituted by a barely contained tightness.
“If you want to,” he tries.
“So— do you want to maybe stay in my room?”
The alpha’s tall body tenses, the laziness in his crossed arms immediately substituted by a barely contained tightness.
His eyebrows drop, leaving almost no space above the bridge of his nose.
He doesn’t say yes. He doesn’t say /anything/.
He just looks worried.
Chuuya breathes in.
“I mean— in my nest. Y’know, that thing we kinda do—“
“I know what a nest is, Chibi,” Dazai hums, dark eyes
He doesn’t say yes. He doesn’t say /anything/.
He just looks worried.
Chuuya breathes in.
“I mean— in my nest. Y’know, that thing we kinda do—“
“I know what a nest is, Chibi,” Dazai hums, dark eyes
scanning the redhead’s face.
Chuuya wets his lips, feeling a blush creep all the way to his cheeks and ears.
“Yeah, ok, that nest thingy.” He reaches for the sink and fidgets with the tap just to do something with his hands, barley glancing at Dazai.
Chuuya wets his lips, feeling a blush creep all the way to his cheeks and ears.
“Yeah, ok, that nest thingy.” He reaches for the sink and fidgets with the tap just to do something with his hands, barley glancing at Dazai.
“Mine is /not/ a nest yet, mind you, I don’t do that scenting with the clothes crap because, last time I tried to steal my uncles’ clothes, they turned out to be designer and that ended up in tragedy, and also I don’t know /how/ to omega. But I figured we could, I don’t know—“
“Chuuya, /slow down/,” Dazai rumbles, low but thunderous.
It doesn’t sound like a command per se, but it /does/ stop Chuuya’s from running his mouth.
It’s like a relaxing embrace, an alpha-induced warmth shrouding him.
(Are soft commands a thing? Chuuya ponders to himself.
It doesn’t sound like a command per se, but it /does/ stop Chuuya’s from running his mouth.
It’s like a relaxing embrace, an alpha-induced warmth shrouding him.
(Are soft commands a thing? Chuuya ponders to himself.
Maybe they are.
Maybe Dazai is just a soft alpha.)
“You don’t have to force yourself,” the alpha adds, measuring every word. “Especially after what you told me. It’s ok to take it slow.”
And then it /hits/ Chuuya: he was too preoccupied being flustered to speak clearly.
Wow.
Maybe Dazai is just a soft alpha.)
“You don’t have to force yourself,” the alpha adds, measuring every word. “Especially after what you told me. It’s ok to take it slow.”
And then it /hits/ Chuuya: he was too preoccupied being flustered to speak clearly.
Wow.
He raises both his palms to stop Dazai before the alpha can talk.
“Oh! No, not for /that/,” he clarifies. “Just to— y’know, sleep? Like we did last time. Cuddle. I don’t know, maybe kiss or some shit.”
The grin that paints itself on Dazai’s lips is /wolfish/.
“Oh! No, not for /that/,” he clarifies. “Just to— y’know, sleep? Like we did last time. Cuddle. I don’t know, maybe kiss or some shit.”
The grin that paints itself on Dazai’s lips is /wolfish/.
“…Kiss or some shit, huh?” he echoes, like it’s the funniest thing he ever heard.
Chuuya almost punches him out of sheer /embarrassment/.
“/Shut up/.”
“Chibi’s so romantic.”
“I’m not used to this thing!”
“To communication? Or to ‘kiss or some shit?’” Dazai nags
Chuuya almost punches him out of sheer /embarrassment/.
“/Shut up/.”
“Chibi’s so romantic.”
“I’m not used to this thing!”
“To communication? Or to ‘kiss or some shit?’” Dazai nags
him, that infuriating smile still on his face. “Because you’re pretty good at it, to be honest.” His grin stretches, eyes /bright/. “The kissing. Communication is like, six out of ten.”
“I fucking hate you,” Chuuya growls, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
“I fucking hate you,” Chuuya growls, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
“No you don’t,” he sing-songs with a wink. The worst thing is, he’s /right/. “I’ll change real quick and join you, then?”
Chuuya nods. “Y—“
“Love you, be right there,” Dazai interrupts him, way too /enthusiastic/, disappearing into the corridor and jogging to his room.
Chuuya nods. “Y—“
“Love you, be right there,” Dazai interrupts him, way too /enthusiastic/, disappearing into the corridor and jogging to his room.
(Dazai’s lazy ass *never* runs.)
It leaves Chuuya frozen, heart pounding and eyes glued to the spot where Dazai was standing seconds before.
/‘Love you.’/
It sounds so /true/ already.
As he smiles to himself, Chuuya thinks that he never, ever wants to get used to it.
It leaves Chuuya frozen, heart pounding and eyes glued to the spot where Dazai was standing seconds before.
/‘Love you.’/
It sounds so /true/ already.
As he smiles to himself, Chuuya thinks that he never, ever wants to get used to it.
And, to Dazai, being introduced to the softness of Chuuya’s nest — more like an oversized regular bed, to be honest, but the omega /warned/ him — is an honor.
“It’s nothing cute,” Chuuya growls as Dazai slips under the covers. “I haven’t even gotten the curtains yet. And I
“It’s nothing cute,” Chuuya growls as Dazai slips under the covers. “I haven’t even gotten the curtains yet. And I
should probably get more pillows.”
“If you want to”
“Anything you don’t like?”
“It’s perfect,” he says, blocking Chuuya’s incoming rant with a kiss.
/That/ shuts Chuuya up definitely, and the alpha relishes in the flash of a dreamy smile that crosses the redhead’s face after.
“If you want to”
“Anything you don’t like?”
“It’s perfect,” he says, blocking Chuuya’s incoming rant with a kiss.
/That/ shuts Chuuya up definitely, and the alpha relishes in the flash of a dreamy smile that crosses the redhead’s face after.
The omega falls asleep first.
Ever so gently, Dazai cradles the redhead’s body in his arms. His lips linger on Chuuya’s copper locks, he brushes his palms over the scent glands at the base of the omega’s neck.
It’s odd, giving in to sleep surrounded by the scent of /home/.
Ever so gently, Dazai cradles the redhead’s body in his arms. His lips linger on Chuuya’s copper locks, he brushes his palms over the scent glands at the base of the omega’s neck.
It’s odd, giving in to sleep surrounded by the scent of /home/.
It’s /new/.
Softly, he runs his fingertips on the smooth skin as Chuuya snuggles closer in his sleep, lips murmuring Dazai’s name in his dreams.
To the alpha, this feels like the safest place in the world.
And Dazai— he never slept well.
Gosh, he seldom sleeps at all.
Softly, he runs his fingertips on the smooth skin as Chuuya snuggles closer in his sleep, lips murmuring Dazai’s name in his dreams.
To the alpha, this feels like the safest place in the world.
And Dazai— he never slept well.
Gosh, he seldom sleeps at all.
But falling asleep to Chuuya’s heartbeat, limbs tangled together and lips so close they can /breathe/ each other, fills him with joy.
The omega’s reassuring presence, the enveloping warmth of his scent, rock Dazai into Morpheus’ arms.
It’s the best thing he ever experienced,
The omega’s reassuring presence, the enveloping warmth of his scent, rock Dazai into Morpheus’ arms.
It’s the best thing he ever experienced,
even though — he told no one, ever, and certainly not /Chuuya/ — he still has a hunch his mind will never work quite like everybody else’s.
But that fear — the one of not being /made/ to live and withstand the hardships of life — retreats to the back of the alpha’s mind as he
But that fear — the one of not being /made/ to live and withstand the hardships of life — retreats to the back of the alpha’s mind as he
falls asleep.
That night Dazai doesn’t dream, and he’s glad for it.
He feels like Chuuya /grounds/ him — the omega completes him, saves him without even noticing, and makes him a better person.
Chuuya makes him feel wanted, /safe/.
He glad for that, too.
—
That night Dazai doesn’t dream, and he’s glad for it.
He feels like Chuuya /grounds/ him — the omega completes him, saves him without even noticing, and makes him a better person.
Chuuya makes him feel wanted, /safe/.
He glad for that, too.
—
“Chuuya! We’re dating, why do you have to be mean?” Dazai whines, turning the paper cup to show the quick doodle of a fish scribbled on it.
Chuuya shrugs, flashing him a charming smile. “I have boyfriends rights?”
“But—“
“Because you deserve it,” Akutagawa comments, drily.
Chuuya shrugs, flashing him a charming smile. “I have boyfriends rights?”
“But—“
“Because you deserve it,” Akutagawa comments, drily.
He doesn’t stop washing the blender as he says it, unfazed even though the alpha lets out a high-pitched screech.
From next to Dazai, Ranpo lets out a soft snort.
Dazai /pouts/.
He wanted to introduce the only person he likes in the entire course to his (mean) boyfriend,
From next to Dazai, Ranpo lets out a soft snort.
Dazai /pouts/.
He wanted to introduce the only person he likes in the entire course to his (mean) boyfriend,
but Edogawa Ranpo seems to /enjoy/ the show more than he cares to help out a friend.
(Well— a friendly rival. Anyway.)
The alpha has cupped his hands around a large hot chocolate, emerald eyes glittering with amusement. He seems to be having the time of his life in the playful
(Well— a friendly rival. Anyway.)
The alpha has cupped his hands around a large hot chocolate, emerald eyes glittering with amusement. He seems to be having the time of his life in the playful
chaos Dazai brought to the otherwise quiet coffeeshop.
Clicking his tongue, Dazai glares at Akutagawa. “I thought we were friends now, you’re my favorite Vampire~”
“The fact that you’re /with/ my friend doesn’t make you /my/ friend.”
“I’m friends with Atsushi!”
Clicking his tongue, Dazai glares at Akutagawa. “I thought we were friends now, you’re my favorite Vampire~”
“The fact that you’re /with/ my friend doesn’t make you /my/ friend.”
“I’m friends with Atsushi!”
“That’s what’s Atsushi wants you to believe,” Akutagawa volleys back without losing a beat.
Dazai’s jaw /drops/.
Chuuya claps slowly from his place at the till.
With a whine, Dazai makes a note that he needs to find better friends — more loyal ones, for a start.
Dazai’s jaw /drops/.
Chuuya claps slowly from his place at the till.
With a whine, Dazai makes a note that he needs to find better friends — more loyal ones, for a start.
“I thought you’d introduce me to your /friends/,” Ranpo preens with a certain, pleased satisfaction that causes the hairs on the back of Dazai’s neck to bristle. “Look at that. The high and mighty Dazai, bullied by omegas.”
“We /do/ love him,” Chuuya interjects, still grinning,
“We /do/ love him,” Chuuya interjects, still grinning,
with an indulgent timbre that /thaws/ something in Dazai’s chest. It’s pure, unguarded affection — and Chuuya is /polite/, but he’s not often openly playful. “I promise we do.”
Akutagawa clicks his tongue. “Sorry, not me. He didn’t pass the vibe check.”
Chuuya grins to Ranpo,
Akutagawa clicks his tongue. “Sorry, not me. He didn’t pass the vibe check.”
Chuuya grins to Ranpo,
pointing at the younger omega still handling the blender. “Don’t mind him. Ryu is in denial.”
“He’s mad that Chuuya and I will adopt him,” Dazai adds.
Ranpo snorts. Now, Akutagawa is barely two years younger than them, but—
But the thing is, Dazai never /had/ younger friends.
“He’s mad that Chuuya and I will adopt him,” Dazai adds.
Ranpo snorts. Now, Akutagawa is barely two years younger than them, but—
But the thing is, Dazai never /had/ younger friends.
He only ever had Odasaku and Ango, who are older than him, working full time and with a life to take care of.
And it’s odd, isn’t it?
He brought Ranpo, not even an actual close /friend/, to meet Chuuya at the cafe before he introduced his /boyfriend/ to Odasaku and Ango.
And it’s odd, isn’t it?
He brought Ranpo, not even an actual close /friend/, to meet Chuuya at the cafe before he introduced his /boyfriend/ to Odasaku and Ango.
Every time something stops him.
(He /wants/ to flaunt Chuuya.)
(…Does he want to share Odasaku, though?)
“Does he want to be adopted?” Ranpo asks, sneering at Akutagawa.
“No,” the boy says, deadpan. However, it’s covered by Dazai and Chuuya chirping together: “Yes!”
(He /wants/ to flaunt Chuuya.)
(…Does he want to share Odasaku, though?)
“Does he want to be adopted?” Ranpo asks, sneering at Akutagawa.
“No,” the boy says, deadpan. However, it’s covered by Dazai and Chuuya chirping together: “Yes!”
“Hey! Pay for my stuff then, at least!”
Dazai tilts his head to the side, blinking innocently in the boy’s direction. His grip around his vanilla latte relaxes as his lips part in genuine curiosity.
Dazai tilts his head to the side, blinking innocently in the boy’s direction. His grip around his vanilla latte relaxes as his lips part in genuine curiosity.
“Like what?” He asks. “Gothic tarot decks? Victorian-dying-child shirts? Flowers for Atsushi-kun?”
“Diablo’s food!” Akutagawa volleys back.
/Ah, yes. The bunny/.
“Right. Well. He can eat Chuuya’s tacky clothes,” Dazai replies, ignoring the pointed look from his boyfriend.
“Diablo’s food!” Akutagawa volleys back.
/Ah, yes. The bunny/.
“Right. Well. He can eat Chuuya’s tacky clothes,” Dazai replies, ignoring the pointed look from his boyfriend.
“Or your shitty bandages,” Chuuya rumbles. “/Anyway/, Gin and Atsushi get the allowance because they’re the reliable ones.”
The redhead is smirking saying that, blue eyes burning with amusement as Akutagawa lets out a dramatic sigh and looks at the ceiling.
The redhead is smirking saying that, blue eyes burning with amusement as Akutagawa lets out a dramatic sigh and looks at the ceiling.
And it’s just a joke for Ranpo’s sake, it’s just for /fun/, yet—
Yet Dazai finds himself thinking that Chuuya’s soothing, loving tone /might/ pass for the one of a good father.
Maybe not today, certainly not tomorrow, but… someday.
In the future.
In /their/ future.
Yet Dazai finds himself thinking that Chuuya’s soothing, loving tone /might/ pass for the one of a good father.
Maybe not today, certainly not tomorrow, but… someday.
In the future.
In /their/ future.
Akutagawa scowls, gaze jumping from Ranpo to the couple.
“So I don’t get money?”
“Nah. Your dads are poor,” Dazai sing-songs, chuckling when Chuuya growls under his breath ‘shit, for real’ like he doesn’t spend his nights shopping online.
“You two suck at being my parents.”
“So I don’t get money?”
“Nah. Your dads are poor,” Dazai sing-songs, chuckling when Chuuya growls under his breath ‘shit, for real’ like he doesn’t spend his nights shopping online.
“You two suck at being my parents.”
The hmm sound given by Ranpo is curt, almost pensive.
“Yep. Sounds like that,” he says, then, popping the p. His comment causes Akutagawa to gesture towards him and raise his eyebrow in a mute ‘see?!’.
Immediately, throwing back his head, Chuuya explodes in a heartily laugh.
“Yep. Sounds like that,” he says, then, popping the p. His comment causes Akutagawa to gesture towards him and raise his eyebrow in a mute ‘see?!’.
Immediately, throwing back his head, Chuuya explodes in a heartily laugh.
And for a moment, there, Dazai forgets how to breathe because— /wow/.
They’ve know each other for a while, yet the sound of Chuuya laughing still echoes in his mind like the first day.
He must be staring like an idiot, though, because Ranpo’s sharp elbow not-so-discretely
They’ve know each other for a while, yet the sound of Chuuya laughing still echoes in his mind like the first day.
He must be staring like an idiot, though, because Ranpo’s sharp elbow not-so-discretely
dips in between his ribs.
The other alpha is shorter than him, at the perfect height to poke him where it /hurts/.
Dazai flinches, being dragged back to the present.
"But even if we share custody of our children, Chuuya still gave me a cup with a fish, though~” he protests.
The other alpha is shorter than him, at the perfect height to poke him where it /hurts/.
Dazai flinches, being dragged back to the present.
"But even if we share custody of our children, Chuuya still gave me a cup with a fish, though~” he protests.
“Because you /are/ a mackerel,” Chuuya explains. The ghost of the chuckle lingers in his voice, warming it, even as he points at Dazai’s latte.
Somehow, it sounds like ‘you’re /my/ mackerel’.
That, Dazai can accept.
And the amazing detail about Chuuya, the thing that first
Somehow, it sounds like ‘you’re /my/ mackerel’.
That, Dazai can accept.
And the amazing detail about Chuuya, the thing that first
made Dazai doubt the redhead’s second gender, is that the omega wears his smugness like a king’s cape.
On him, a cocky grin turns into a beautiful tailored suit.
Dazai is about to reply when the door opens with a tinkle, revealing a group of three customers — a couple of
On him, a cocky grin turns into a beautiful tailored suit.
Dazai is about to reply when the door opens with a tinkle, revealing a group of three customers — a couple of
schoolgirls and a man walking behind them.
No scent accompanies the newcomers, only the wind-chime giggle of the two girls and the faint jingle of their phone straps.
Chuuya winces, eyes immediately scanning the people that entered the cafe as he straightens up.
No scent accompanies the newcomers, only the wind-chime giggle of the two girls and the faint jingle of their phone straps.
Chuuya winces, eyes immediately scanning the people that entered the cafe as he straightens up.
Slowly, he rubs his hands over his yellow apron.
“Right,” he hums. “We’ve got to work here.”
“/Finally/,” Akutagawa whispers, moving to the espresso machine.
Slow afternoons with nothing to do always bored the hell out of the young omega.
“Right,” he hums. “We’ve got to work here.”
“/Finally/,” Akutagawa whispers, moving to the espresso machine.
Slow afternoons with nothing to do always bored the hell out of the young omega.
Dazai doesn’t quite /agree/, as he’d rather loiter around Chuuya all afternoon, but there isn’t much he can do now.
“We’ll go sit,” he offers, glancing at the tables.
“Yup.” Dutifully, Chuuya leans forward for a kiss, and Dazai meets him halfway with a soft sound from the
“We’ll go sit,” he offers, glancing at the tables.
“Yup.” Dutifully, Chuuya leans forward for a kiss, and Dazai meets him halfway with a soft sound from the
back of his throat. “I’ll take a break after these orders.”
“/Please/,” Dazai croons against his boyfriend’s mouth, uncaring of how needy he sounds.
He only lets Chuuya go so soon because he knows the redhead will have his head for embarrassing him in front of the customers.
“/Please/,” Dazai croons against his boyfriend’s mouth, uncaring of how needy he sounds.
He only lets Chuuya go so soon because he knows the redhead will have his head for embarrassing him in front of the customers.
(And he can feel Ranpo’s judgment — unreadable, not exactly friendly.
Suddenly, Dazai has a feeling he’ll be accused of giving the other alpha cavities.)
The one they share is a peck, barely a kiss at all, and still— /still/, it makes Dazai croon.
Gosh, he is /so/ smitten.
Suddenly, Dazai has a feeling he’ll be accused of giving the other alpha cavities.)
The one they share is a peck, barely a kiss at all, and still— /still/, it makes Dazai croon.
Gosh, he is /so/ smitten.
Ranpo only talks once they are seated.
He looks at Dazai from across the iron round table as if he can pierce his soul, and says: “I see.”
Dazai frowns. “What?”
“You just made something clear.”
As he sips his latte, feigning disinterest, Dazai is not sure if it’s the alpha’s
He looks at Dazai from across the iron round table as if he can pierce his soul, and says: “I see.”
Dazai frowns. “What?”
“You just made something clear.”
As he sips his latte, feigning disinterest, Dazai is not sure if it’s the alpha’s
evasive voice or his face, like an heavy locked door, that unsettles him the most.
Despite their many similarities, Dazai never quite managed to figure out the reason why Ranpo unsettles people so deeply.
Why does his intelligence /upset/ professors and peers alike.
Despite their many similarities, Dazai never quite managed to figure out the reason why Ranpo unsettles people so deeply.
Why does his intelligence /upset/ professors and peers alike.
He never could pinpoint if Ranpo talks in riddles because his brain works faster and harder than most, or if it’s just to rile up his interlocutors — helpless puppets locked in a conversation only the alpha can fully comprehend.
With every conversation, Ranpo turns
With every conversation, Ranpo turns
people into a mute audience. He acts like a performer, a magician; like a modern-day Sherlock Holmes unraveling a case that he already painted in his mind.
But Dazai is no puppet.
He’s just as clever, just as sharp.
He equals Ranpo through and through — that is, after all,
But Dazai is no puppet.
He’s just as clever, just as sharp.
He equals Ranpo through and through — that is, after all,
the core of their friendly rivalry.
And he /understands/ what’s going on now.
Ranpo’s attitude is meant to drive a wedge between them: the winner and the loser.
There’s no tie, in this little bet-slash-war-slash-bringing-out-the-best-in-each-other going on between them.
And he /understands/ what’s going on now.
Ranpo’s attitude is meant to drive a wedge between them: the winner and the loser.
There’s no tie, in this little bet-slash-war-slash-bringing-out-the-best-in-each-other going on between them.
“And what would that be?” Dazai asks.
Ranpo’s emerald gaze burrows itself under the other alpha’s skin.
It nestles in Dazai’s stomach like a parasite, where it nags at him.
“You just let me win this year’s bet,” Ranpo clarifies.
Or: I’m going to have the highest marks.
Ranpo’s emerald gaze burrows itself under the other alpha’s skin.
It nestles in Dazai’s stomach like a parasite, where it nags at him.
“You just let me win this year’s bet,” Ranpo clarifies.
Or: I’m going to have the highest marks.
I’ll be the best of our year.
Dazai smirks.
“Ah,” he says, quietly. “And how’s that?”
/I’ll die before I place second in anything./
They’re both alphas, both academically wrestling for the top spots in their field, struggling to prove they’re better. But thing is, Dazai’s
Dazai smirks.
“Ah,” he says, quietly. “And how’s that?”
/I’ll die before I place second in anything./
They’re both alphas, both academically wrestling for the top spots in their field, struggling to prove they’re better. But thing is, Dazai’s
self-esteem is a house of cards. He might act smug, but he’s really /not/.
Even Ranpo’s scent — of burn sugar and mint and grass, ever so faint yet ever so /present/ — is stronger than his own.
And Dazai guesses it’s the negativity that finally gets to him, etching itself in
Even Ranpo’s scent — of burn sugar and mint and grass, ever so faint yet ever so /present/ — is stronger than his own.
And Dazai guesses it’s the negativity that finally gets to him, etching itself in
the back of his mind.
“You’ll be too distracted, positively or not, to care about exams,” Ranpo offers, quietly. “Depending on how it goes.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“I’m analyzing fact,” the alpha shrugs — no malice, only a brutally /honest/ opinion. “So I win.”
“You’ll be too distracted, positively or not, to care about exams,” Ranpo offers, quietly. “Depending on how it goes.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“I’m analyzing fact,” the alpha shrugs — no malice, only a brutally /honest/ opinion. “So I win.”
But Dazai /hears/ even what Ranpo is not saying:
He’s a ticking bomb.
He’s not balanced enough to sustain a relationship, even less a /healthy/ one like the thing he has with Chuuya. He thrives in toxicity, he attracts darkness.
How long before something triggers an explosion?
He’s a ticking bomb.
He’s not balanced enough to sustain a relationship, even less a /healthy/ one like the thing he has with Chuuya. He thrives in toxicity, he attracts darkness.
How long before something triggers an explosion?
And, then, who knows what Dazai might do.
He might hibernate, pop pills like candies, drop out of university, disappear and move to another country.
(He might do worse.)
“We’ll see, Ranpo-san,” he replies, leveled, but his voice lacks fight.
People always say that working
He might hibernate, pop pills like candies, drop out of university, disappear and move to another country.
(He might do worse.)
“We’ll see, Ranpo-san,” he replies, leveled, but his voice lacks fight.
People always say that working
with him and Ranpo in the same class feels like swimming with two sharks circling each other.
Now, despite the powerful aroma of coffee, Dazai can almost /smell/ blood in the water.
“If you think so,” Ranpo says, with a nonchalant shrug. “/I’m/ always right. You know that.”
Now, despite the powerful aroma of coffee, Dazai can almost /smell/ blood in the water.
“If you think so,” Ranpo says, with a nonchalant shrug. “/I’m/ always right. You know that.”
“I’m pretty good at predictions myself.”
Ah, but he’s /wishing/ to be right, isn’t he? And that always messes up even the most precise calculations.
“I’m still better,” the alpha chirps, then, /happily/.
In that moment, Dazai shuts down and doesn’t protest, drowning the
Ah, but he’s /wishing/ to be right, isn’t he? And that always messes up even the most precise calculations.
“I’m still better,” the alpha chirps, then, /happily/.
In that moment, Dazai shuts down and doesn’t protest, drowning the
hundred things he might say in a long sip of his vanilla latte.
After all— he owns Chuuya and Chuuya owns him.
It’s a /soothing/ thought to cling to as the alpha glances behind his shoulder. Chuuya and Akutagawa are waving at the girls, as they exit the cafe with their cold
After all— he owns Chuuya and Chuuya owns him.
It’s a /soothing/ thought to cling to as the alpha glances behind his shoulder. Chuuya and Akutagawa are waving at the girls, as they exit the cafe with their cold
brews and pristine school uniform.
They belong to each other, Chuuya and him.
And yet, thanks to Ranpo’s ever-present realism, for the first time the alpha realises that might be a recipe for disaster.
Because they moved /fast/, and it seemed all a natural process… but
They belong to each other, Chuuya and him.
And yet, thanks to Ranpo’s ever-present realism, for the first time the alpha realises that might be a recipe for disaster.
Because they moved /fast/, and it seemed all a natural process… but
what /if/ it was a miscalculation?
“Anyway— you two look happy,” Ranpo adds.
“Yeah. I /guess/,” Dazai echoes.
“I’m serious. Fancy apron is a good guy. It’s good to see you like this.”
“I /know/.”
But that’s a lie. He doesn’t know.
He’s not /sure/, right now. The reminder
“Anyway— you two look happy,” Ranpo adds.
“Yeah. I /guess/,” Dazai echoes.
“I’m serious. Fancy apron is a good guy. It’s good to see you like this.”
“I /know/.”
But that’s a lie. He doesn’t know.
He’s not /sure/, right now. The reminder
that he’s a half-functioning soul doesn’t seem to let go.
An epiphany, someone might call it. ‘Reality starting to creep in’, in Dazai's modest opinion, is a far more accurate way to look at it.
Because nobody ever warned Dazai that love can taste like responsibility. It’s a
An epiphany, someone might call it. ‘Reality starting to creep in’, in Dazai's modest opinion, is a far more accurate way to look at it.
Because nobody ever warned Dazai that love can taste like responsibility. It’s a
daunting baring of humanity more than a gratuitous game.
Dazai sighs. He’s about to change the subject when an unexpected reek causes his nostrils to flare.
Nervousness, fear.
Then, he /hears/ it.
“My friends told me the barista here was hotter than a girl, but /damn/—”
Dazai sighs. He’s about to change the subject when an unexpected reek causes his nostrils to flare.
Nervousness, fear.
Then, he /hears/ it.
“My friends told me the barista here was hotter than a girl, but /damn/—”
Dazai’s neck almost /snaps/ as he turns, gaze fixing on the remaining customer at the counter.
Frantically, hearing Ranpo squirm in his seat too, he takes in the situation.
Akutagawa at the fridge, stocking new cartoons of milk. Chuuya at the till.
In front of the redhead
Frantically, hearing Ranpo squirm in his seat too, he takes in the situation.
Akutagawa at the fridge, stocking new cartoons of milk. Chuuya at the till.
In front of the redhead
towers a bulky, taurine-built beta — thirty-five at most, greasy black hair, blotted skin — oozing smugness and a greedy, violent type of /want/.
Dazai almost jumps on his feet, but Chuuya shakes his head ever so subtly.
/Let’s not make a scene/, his blue eyes say.
Dazai almost jumps on his feet, but Chuuya shakes his head ever so subtly.
/Let’s not make a scene/, his blue eyes say.
And Dazai /hates/ it, but he listens. He listens to the ‘thank you. What can I get you?’ and to the rasping sound from the beta.
The reply makes the alpha’s blood boil.
“What do /you/ like?”
Chuuya hesitates. “It depends,” he says, clearly hoping that the man will give up.
The reply makes the alpha’s blood boil.
“What do /you/ like?”
Chuuya hesitates. “It depends,” he says, clearly hoping that the man will give up.
That is, of course, wishful thinking.
“Ha— y’know I’m not normally into boys.”
Chuuya glares.
‘Boys is not a fucking coffee order, you asinine piece of shit,’ is what Dazai can read on his boyfriend’s face — clearly, it flies past the beta.
“You need to order” he repeats,
“Ha— y’know I’m not normally into boys.”
Chuuya glares.
‘Boys is not a fucking coffee order, you asinine piece of shit,’ is what Dazai can read on his boyfriend’s face — clearly, it flies past the beta.
“You need to order” he repeats,
voice like iron under the polite surface. “Otherwise, please leave.”
The beta grins.
He’s one of those guys who hear ‘fuck off’ and understand ‘fuck /me/.’
Dazai’s leg bounces nervously.
“But I might make an exception for you. You’re really prettier than a girl.”
The beta grins.
He’s one of those guys who hear ‘fuck off’ and understand ‘fuck /me/.’
Dazai’s leg bounces nervously.
“But I might make an exception for you. You’re really prettier than a girl.”
Chuuya scowls, eyes turning thunderous as he scans the man as if to assess how much of a threat he can be.
“Well, I’m not a girl. Pl—“
Before he can be asked to leave for a third time, the man glances at the board. He then points in its general direction.
“Well, I’m not a girl. Pl—“
Before he can be asked to leave for a third time, the man glances at the board. He then points in its general direction.
“Get me a coffee,” he says, vaguely. It sounds /demanding/, and Dazai wonders if the beta has enough brain cells to /read/ the board. “Anything you want is fine, love.”
Dazai closes his hands into fists, nails sinking in the flesh.
Dazai closes his hands into fists, nails sinking in the flesh.
He sees Chuuya, his rigid smile, the quiet signs of his nervousness.
And the thing with customer service is— you can’t really /clap back/.
But in Dazai’s mind, the beta is already bleeding. In his mind, he’s kicking the man’s body until he coughs blood and wheezes out a
And the thing with customer service is— you can’t really /clap back/.
But in Dazai’s mind, the beta is already bleeding. In his mind, he’s kicking the man’s body until he coughs blood and wheezes out a
last, sorry, shaky breath.
And yet, even though the man is stone-cold dead in his mental scenario, Dazai can /still/ hear the hollow sound of his foot colliding with the lifeless body.
A kick, and another, and another.
Until the flesh rips open and the bones crack.
And yet, even though the man is stone-cold dead in his mental scenario, Dazai can /still/ hear the hollow sound of his foot colliding with the lifeless body.
A kick, and another, and another.
Until the flesh rips open and the bones crack.
“Are you going to do anything?” Ranpo hums, drowning his obvious judgement in a generous sip of hot chocolate.
It reaches him from far away.
“I’m going to kill him,” Dazai whispers back.
He sees Chuuya nod to Akutagawa, who skittishly moves toward the espresso machine.
It reaches him from far away.
“I’m going to kill him,” Dazai whispers back.
He sees Chuuya nod to Akutagawa, who skittishly moves toward the espresso machine.
They look like soldiers, never showing their back to the man — tense and reactive, like chords of a bow ready to shoot an arrow.
“Hey. I can bring you to a fancy restaurant later— a Michelin star, yeah? What do you say, /sweetheart/?”
Chuuya scowls. “Not gonna happen.”
“Hey. I can bring you to a fancy restaurant later— a Michelin star, yeah? What do you say, /sweetheart/?”
Chuuya scowls. “Not gonna happen.”
“Are you single?”
With his lips pulled in a thin line, Chuuya doesn’t reply.
From where he stands, Dazai does his best to /help/. To keep eye contact, to make the omegas remember that he and Ranpo /will/ intervene if needed.
Again, quietly, Chuuya shakes his head.
With his lips pulled in a thin line, Chuuya doesn’t reply.
From where he stands, Dazai does his best to /help/. To keep eye contact, to make the omegas remember that he and Ranpo /will/ intervene if needed.
Again, quietly, Chuuya shakes his head.
The man plops his arms on the counter. Chuuya /retracts/, and Dazai’s hands twitch.
“Do you like working here?”
No reply.
“What’s your name?”
No reply.
“You like the attention, hm?”
/No reply./
“I thought omegas smelled like
sluts— but you /look/ like a bitch as well.”
“Do you like working here?”
No reply.
“What’s your name?”
No reply.
“You like the attention, hm?”
/No reply./
“I thought omegas smelled like
sluts— but you /look/ like a bitch as well.”
Dazai’s blood turns into molasses as he gnaws at his bottom lip.
His body is begging him to move, to kill.
He can’t.
Chuuya asked him not to.
Meanwhile, objectification reeks weirdly. It’s rusty and sweet, like something left to rot.
Mori brought him to the sea, once, many
His body is begging him to move, to kill.
He can’t.
Chuuya asked him not to.
Meanwhile, objectification reeks weirdly. It’s rusty and sweet, like something left to rot.
Mori brought him to the sea, once, many
years before — it’s an odd memory buried deep in Dazai’s mind, stirred back to the surface by the corpse-like stench that has take over the cafe.
He remembers a bunch of fishes washed ashore by the high tide. Their dead bodies had been fried by the sun, eviscerated by seagulls.
He remembers a bunch of fishes washed ashore by the high tide. Their dead bodies had been fried by the sun, eviscerated by seagulls.
The smell oozing from the beta reminds him of that.
Like a carcass forgotten under the sun.
And Dazai /knows/ Chuuya told him to stay out of it, but—
He can’t.
“Sorry~ I suggest you leave the boys alone,” Dazai interjects from the table, /refusing/ to acknowledge the man’s
Like a carcass forgotten under the sun.
And Dazai /knows/ Chuuya told him to stay out of it, but—
He can’t.
“Sorry~ I suggest you leave the boys alone,” Dazai interjects from the table, /refusing/ to acknowledge the man’s
fixation on /his/ boyfriend specifically.
His sweet scent — tiered to polite protectiveness and mild discomfort even though he’s /fuming/ inside — rolls upon the scene.
Ranpo frowns, but Dazai doesn’t pay him any mind.
He’s smiling at the man, who glances over his shoulder.
His sweet scent — tiered to polite protectiveness and mild discomfort even though he’s /fuming/ inside — rolls upon the scene.
Ranpo frowns, but Dazai doesn’t pay him any mind.
He’s smiling at the man, who glances over his shoulder.
“Mind your own business, weirdo,” he sneers.
/Ah, he *really* wants to die, then./
Dazai’s smile is mirthless as it stretches further on his face, reaching from ear to ear.
“Nah. Leave, before they kick you out~”
“Why don’t you and your stupid friend go instead, huh?”
/Ah, he *really* wants to die, then./
Dazai’s smile is mirthless as it stretches further on his face, reaching from ear to ear.
“Nah. Leave, before they kick you out~”
“Why don’t you and your stupid friend go instead, huh?”
Akutagawa murmurs a ‘fuck you’ under his breath, tending to the espresso machine and to the beta’s order while keeping an eye on the food counter to make sure the man doesn’t grab anything he shouldn’t.
As he does, he bares tiny fangs Dazai never noticed.
Chuuya glares.
As he does, he bares tiny fangs Dazai never noticed.
Chuuya glares.
His eyes turned darker, narrow slits of storm-tossed, deep blue.
“Ok, that’s enough. Leave,” he says, not an ounce of warmth in his tight-lipped expression. “That’s the last warning before we call the police.”
The man’s gaze jumps back to the redhead,
“Ok, that’s enough. Leave,” he says, not an ounce of warmth in his tight-lipped expression. “That’s the last warning before we call the police.”
The man’s gaze jumps back to the redhead,
an unpleasant chuckle slipping past his lips.
“I paid for a drink, /love/.”
“No, technically you didn’t. Leave.”
“No,” he hmms. “I want my coffee now, and I want it with a /smile/. But go on and call the police, sweetheart, you /try/ that. See if it helps.”
“I paid for a drink, /love/.”
“No, technically you didn’t. Leave.”
“No,” he hmms. “I want my coffee now, and I want it with a /smile/. But go on and call the police, sweetheart, you /try/ that. See if it helps.”
Chuuya’s shoulders /tremble/.
He’d rather not involve anybody else, not his boss and especially not the police, because even the tiniest hint of pre-heat would give the man a /reason/ to harass them.
It’d be filed up under ‘provocation’.
And well… let’s just say that deciding
He’d rather not involve anybody else, not his boss and especially not the police, because even the tiniest hint of pre-heat would give the man a /reason/ to harass them.
It’d be filed up under ‘provocation’.
And well… let’s just say that deciding
if an omega uses enough scent blockers or not is a rather /subjective/ statement.
Dazai /knows/ that.
Every day, the local newspapers’ headlines scream similar stories.
He will be /damned/ before he lets Chuuya become one of those headlines, but he doesn’t see another /way/.
Dazai /knows/ that.
Every day, the local newspapers’ headlines scream similar stories.
He will be /damned/ before he lets Chuuya become one of those headlines, but he doesn’t see another /way/.
“Before they call the police, I could kick you out,” Dazai rumbles.
The man’s head whips in his direction aggressively, baring yellow-ish teeth.
“/You/ stay out of it.”
“Y—”
“Sir,” Chuuya interrupts him, and to Dazai’s horror he realizes the redhead is protecting /him/ now.
The man’s head whips in his direction aggressively, baring yellow-ish teeth.
“/You/ stay out of it.”
“Y—”
“Sir,” Chuuya interrupts him, and to Dazai’s horror he realizes the redhead is protecting /him/ now.
God knows how often he dealt with the same situation, but Dazai doesn’t want him to fight alone.
Not when he has an alpha, now.
Sternly, Chuuya sits a paper cup in front of the man — a steaming americano, without a name and without a lid. “Here’s your order. Get the fuck out.”
Not when he has an alpha, now.
Sternly, Chuuya sits a paper cup in front of the man — a steaming americano, without a name and without a lid. “Here’s your order. Get the fuck out.”
“Ah, it wasn’t so hard love, was it?”
Akutagawa stands next to Chuuya — a head taller than him, a single wrinkle cutting through his forehead.
“/Leave/,” he repeats.
It allows Chuuya to relax a little, going for the phone in a /very/ eloquent way.
“Hm? We’re just chatting.”
Akutagawa stands next to Chuuya — a head taller than him, a single wrinkle cutting through his forehead.
“/Leave/,” he repeats.
It allows Chuuya to relax a little, going for the phone in a /very/ eloquent way.
“Hm? We’re just chatting.”
Dazai sees /murder/ flash across Akutagawa’s eyes. His jaw clenches.
In school, the first thing they teach alphas is to control their temper.
Because, once, alphas sat at the top of the social ladder.
Today, commanding strangers will easily be seen as an offense
In school, the first thing they teach alphas is to control their temper.
Because, once, alphas sat at the top of the social ladder.
Today, commanding strangers will easily be seen as an offense
considering it manipulates minds.
What is worse, it might cost the omega — ever the victims — involved their jobs.
And /that/ is not something Dazai is willing to risk lightly.
This man, though, who instead of leaving is stretching his arm to dramatically grab a
What is worse, it might cost the omega — ever the victims — involved their jobs.
And /that/ is not something Dazai is willing to risk lightly.
This man, though, who instead of leaving is stretching his arm to dramatically grab a
sachet of sugar—
“Geez. I bet you two are good sluts if you get that stick outta your asses.”
—This man leaves him no choice.
The command, although not smart, rolls out of Dazai’s lips with extreme satisfaction.
“And I bet you really want to throw that coffee at your face.”
“Geez. I bet you two are good sluts if you get that stick outta your asses.”
—This man leaves him no choice.
The command, although not smart, rolls out of Dazai’s lips with extreme satisfaction.
“And I bet you really want to throw that coffee at your face.”
Now, Dazai doesn’t know much about spilling a steamy cup of coffee on your face, but—
/Well/.
Considering by the man’s screams as the brown liquid fizzes against his /flesh/, turning red and raw at the contact, it must /hurt/ like a bitch.
Chuuya’s eyes grow wide, his
/Well/.
Considering by the man’s screams as the brown liquid fizzes against his /flesh/, turning red and raw at the contact, it must /hurt/ like a bitch.
Chuuya’s eyes grow wide, his
mouth hanging open.
“Da—!”
But Dazai is not stupid. He’s dark, fucked up…
Careless, he’s not.
“Ah, and you’re so dumb. You accidentally spilt it on yourself,” he carries on, raising his voice to top the beta’s screeches. He grins. “If anybody asks, I want you to say that.”
“Da—!”
But Dazai is not stupid. He’s dark, fucked up…
Careless, he’s not.
“Ah, and you’re so dumb. You accidentally spilt it on yourself,” he carries on, raising his voice to top the beta’s screeches. He grins. “If anybody asks, I want you to say that.”
The order doesn’t have to be scanned clearly to be executed.
The beta whimpers, his voice pitifully weak, crumpling on itself like wet paper.
And maybe he /shouldn’t/, but he feels a little proud.
“It hurts, doesn’t it? Now, I think it’s best you go somewhere else.”
The beta whimpers, his voice pitifully weak, crumpling on itself like wet paper.
And maybe he /shouldn’t/, but he feels a little proud.
“It hurts, doesn’t it? Now, I think it’s best you go somewhere else.”
Despite Dazai’s serene smile and velvet-soft voice, the commands /ring/, bouncing against the walls of the cafe. “Before you force me or anybody here to hurt you /for real/.”
Of course, the man complies. He can’t do otherwise.
Of course, the man complies. He can’t do otherwise.
As the door closes behind the beta, it only leaves behind a flabbergasted, deaf silence. For the first time, Dazai tunes in with Ranpo’s presence.
He never /disappeared/ per se, but he retreated to observe.
His expression is unreadable, his green eyes sharp. He’ll deal with
He never /disappeared/ per se, but he retreated to observe.
His expression is unreadable, his green eyes sharp. He’ll deal with
him later. /You did what you had to do/, he seems to say, /but was it *smart*?/
And the truth is, it probably wasn’t. Fuck, it’s little shy of a cover-up. It’s a crime and he /risked/ both Akutagawa and Chuuya’s jobs.
And he’ll do that again, to protect what belongs to /him/.
And the truth is, it probably wasn’t. Fuck, it’s little shy of a cover-up. It’s a crime and he /risked/ both Akutagawa and Chuuya’s jobs.
And he’ll do that again, to protect what belongs to /him/.
“Well.” Slowly, Chuuya breathes /in/, and out. “That fucking sucked.”
“For real,” Akutagawa hums.
“Are you ok?” Dazai asks, hurriedly, stepping up and crossing the empty cafe to reach the counter.
“I’m...” the omega seems to think over it for a moment, voice
“For real,” Akutagawa hums.
“Are you ok?” Dazai asks, hurriedly, stepping up and crossing the empty cafe to reach the counter.
“I’m...” the omega seems to think over it for a moment, voice
trembling. “I guess we’re kinda used to it?”
Not to the last part though, clearly. Hell, Chuuya is not looking at him at /all/.
And his is not an answer, either, but Akutagawa nods too. “I think I’m going to call Atsushi.”
Not to the last part though, clearly. Hell, Chuuya is not looking at him at /all/.
And his is not an answer, either, but Akutagawa nods too. “I think I’m going to call Atsushi.”
“Ask if he can stop by and walk you home later, or we can give you a ride,” Chuuya calls after him, barely getting a nod as a reply before Akutagawa disappears in the back.
Atsushi and Akutagawa’s apartment stands in a nice area close to the Yokohama Bay Bridge, not /anywhere/
Atsushi and Akutagawa’s apartment stands in a nice area close to the Yokohama Bay Bridge, not /anywhere/
close to Dazai’s apartment, but the alpha is happy to do the extra commute to make sure everybody is safe.
(His friends.
His boyfriend.
/His/.)
Pointedly ignoring /him/, Chuuya looks across the cafe to tilt his head in Ranpo’s direction, gesturing to attract the boy’s
(His friends.
His boyfriend.
/His/.)
Pointedly ignoring /him/, Chuuya looks across the cafe to tilt his head in Ranpo’s direction, gesturing to attract the boy’s
attention.
“Yo, Ranpo-San. I’m sorry for the show,” he says, rising a hand towards the alpha.
Dazai’s heart /clutches/.
“No need,” Ranpo says, shaking his head. “You ok, Fancy Apron?”
Chuuya cracks a smile at the nickname — it’s weak, but it’s there.
“We’ll survive.”
“Yo, Ranpo-San. I’m sorry for the show,” he says, rising a hand towards the alpha.
Dazai’s heart /clutches/.
“No need,” Ranpo says, shaking his head. “You ok, Fancy Apron?”
Chuuya cracks a smile at the nickname — it’s weak, but it’s there.
“We’ll survive.”
“Bet that stuff like that happens fairly often, yeah?”
Chuuya nods. “Yeah. Next drinks are on us.”
“If you insist~” Ranpo chirps.
Even though Ranpo is still sipping his hot chocolate — now probably lukewarm — and doesn’t seem too disturbed, Chuuya is obviously /mortified/.
Chuuya nods. “Yeah. Next drinks are on us.”
“If you insist~” Ranpo chirps.
Even though Ranpo is still sipping his hot chocolate — now probably lukewarm — and doesn’t seem too disturbed, Chuuya is obviously /mortified/.
As if he had any jurisdiction on an asshole’s decision to /harass/ them.
As if it’s his fault for being an omega.
Dazai hesitates, forcing himself to lean closer to his boyfriend even though the aura around Chuuya is not exactly friendly.
He has a hunch that pushing into
As if it’s his fault for being an omega.
Dazai hesitates, forcing himself to lean closer to his boyfriend even though the aura around Chuuya is not exactly friendly.
He has a hunch that pushing into
Chuuya’s space might not the right thing to do — and he /might/ have gone a bit overboard with the beta — but he /has/ to. He has to check on his boyfriend.
Instinctively, Chuuya jerks away. It stings, and Dazai’s heart hiccups.
“Babe?”
The redhead doesn’t even look at him.
Instinctively, Chuuya jerks away. It stings, and Dazai’s heart hiccups.
“Babe?”
The redhead doesn’t even look at him.
He /refuses/ to.
“/We/ will talk at home.”
“Chuuya,” he hesitates. “Are you angry?”
Ah, what a stupid question — he can /see/ Chuuya is mad. The better question would be…
/Why/.
// I thought I had to protect you. //
“Seriously, Osamu,” Chuuya says, stepping away.
“/We/ will talk at home.”
“Chuuya,” he hesitates. “Are you angry?”
Ah, what a stupid question — he can /see/ Chuuya is mad. The better question would be…
/Why/.
// I thought I had to protect you. //
“Seriously, Osamu,” Chuuya says, stepping away.
His voice is colorless, but what hurts is the lack of eye contact. “I appreciate it, but give me some space. Please.”
Dazai wasn’t expecting a thank you. Of course. He never does, because no one ever thanked him for anything.
But, to be fair, he didn’t expect /this/ either.
—
Dazai wasn’t expecting a thank you. Of course. He never does, because no one ever thanked him for anything.
But, to be fair, he didn’t expect /this/ either.
—
When the door to Akutagawa’s apartment clacks open, their welcome is a little ball of black fur bouncing across the room and headed in their direction.
Their welcome is the tidiness of Atsushi’s living room, Akutagawa’s books, the paintings that Gin gifted the two omegas
Their welcome is the tidiness of Atsushi’s living room, Akutagawa’s books, the paintings that Gin gifted the two omegas
when they moved in together.
It’s love, it’s home.
That, and Akutagawa calling, ‘Atsushi, love, we’re home!’ and the lingering smell of Chazuke being prepared for the evening.
That — all of that, the domesticity of it — steals a smile out of Chuuya despite the harsh day.
It’s love, it’s home.
That, and Akutagawa calling, ‘Atsushi, love, we’re home!’ and the lingering smell of Chazuke being prepared for the evening.
That — all of that, the domesticity of it — steals a smile out of Chuuya despite the harsh day.
He’s glad Akutagawa allowed them to get him a cab home and to check on him — /safe/.
He’s glad that Atsushi’s home — /happy/.
Good lord, he’s even glad to see Diablo, in his rodent-from-hell glory. He’s even happier that he pointed Dazai, his new favorite victim, ignoring him.
He’s glad that Atsushi’s home — /happy/.
Good lord, he’s even glad to see Diablo, in his rodent-from-hell glory. He’s even happier that he pointed Dazai, his new favorite victim, ignoring him.
(And he is /glad/ they accepted Atsushi’s invitation to stop by for tea, or he’d have to face Dazai at /home/ — their home — and… and he /can’t/.
He knows he can’t argue now, because he knows he can’t /win/.)
He knows he can’t argue now, because he knows he can’t /win/.)
As Diablo jumps in their direction, Dazai takes a step back that practically mirrors the bunny’s movements.
His nose twists in a mixture of disgust and /disappointment/.
“Oh, no,” he growls, under his breath.
The bunny stands on two legs, tiny ears straight on the top of his
His nose twists in a mixture of disgust and /disappointment/.
“Oh, no,” he growls, under his breath.
The bunny stands on two legs, tiny ears straight on the top of his
head as if he /recognized/ the man.
(More importantly, he seems to remember how he happily peed on Dazai’s suede shoes the first and last time the brunet set foot at Akutagawa’s.
Dazai /definitely/ remembers.)
“Don’t you dare,” Dazai hisses, steadily holding Diablo’s stare.
(More importantly, he seems to remember how he happily peed on Dazai’s suede shoes the first and last time the brunet set foot at Akutagawa’s.
Dazai /definitely/ remembers.)
“Don’t you dare,” Dazai hisses, steadily holding Diablo’s stare.
The bunny’s head tilts to the side.
“You planning to move anytime soon, ‘Samu?” Chuuya hums.
(The name /burns/ on his tongue like boiling coffee.
Like /fear/.)
“Chuuya~! He’s challenging me!”
“Don’t be dramatic—”
Akutagawa scoffs, slipping out of his light coat.
“You planning to move anytime soon, ‘Samu?” Chuuya hums.
(The name /burns/ on his tongue like boiling coffee.
Like /fear/.)
“Chuuya~! He’s challenging me!”
“Don’t be dramatic—”
Akutagawa scoffs, slipping out of his light coat.
“Says /you/,” he says — a comment that Chuuya /ignores/. “Leave your stuff wherever. Sushi’s in the other room.”
“Yep! In here!” comes from the kitchen — followed by the thud of something being dropped. Chuuya chuckles to himself.
Dazai doesn’t even look at any of them, gaze
“Yep! In here!” comes from the kitchen — followed by the thud of something being dropped. Chuuya chuckles to himself.
Dazai doesn’t even look at any of them, gaze
fixed on Diablo.
“Get your shoe-ruiner rat away from me, first?”
Akutagawa’s eyebrows jump up as he shoots Chuuya a glance (‘is he serious?’, he seems to say).
Chuuya shrugs it off.
//Guess so//.
Thankfully for Dazai, Diablo seems to be bored already.
After a moment of
“Get your shoe-ruiner rat away from me, first?”
Akutagawa’s eyebrows jump up as he shoots Chuuya a glance (‘is he serious?’, he seems to say).
Chuuya shrugs it off.
//Guess so//.
Thankfully for Dazai, Diablo seems to be bored already.
After a moment of
Hesitation — black irises buried /deep/ in Dazai’s amber eyes with a /defiance/ that is almost human — the bunny settles down and bounces to Akutagawa.
The younger boy promptly squats, beaming and opening his arms to welcome Diablo’s clucking and little licks.
The younger boy promptly squats, beaming and opening his arms to welcome Diablo’s clucking and little licks.
“Aw… did you miss me, baby?” Akutagawa gushes to the bunny, in a tender voice he uses with no human /ever/.
Well, saved for Atsushi — sometimes.
Chuuya hears Dazai groan by his side.
“Chibi~ bleach my ears from Baby Vampire saying ‘baby’.”
The redhead looks at the scene,
Well, saved for Atsushi — sometimes.
Chuuya hears Dazai groan by his side.
“Chibi~ bleach my ears from Baby Vampire saying ‘baby’.”
The redhead looks at the scene,
drinking in Akutagawa stroking Diablo’s ears, gnaws his lips, and thinks of a way to reply and—
And he /can’t/.
He can’t act like this is /ok/.
Without a word, he pushes away from Dazai and heads to the kitchen.
(He knows he should talk.
His mouth refuses to, though.)
And he /can’t/.
He can’t act like this is /ok/.
Without a word, he pushes away from Dazai and heads to the kitchen.
(He knows he should talk.
His mouth refuses to, though.)
He helps himself into Akutagawa and Atsushi’s kitchen like he always does, but he never did so to /escape/ Dazai.
It’s not a good feeling.
The first thing Chuuya’s gaze lands on is a blue t-shirt (he has to /raise/ his gaze, then, a thing that tends to happen when you’re the
It’s not a good feeling.
The first thing Chuuya’s gaze lands on is a blue t-shirt (he has to /raise/ his gaze, then, a thing that tends to happen when you’re the
shortest person in the room).
Then, a head of white, uneavenly-cut hair.
Wide eyes — big and /bright/ like a clear sky, changing with the light — seem to twinkle as Atsushi focuses on him.
“Chuuya!”
“Hey, Atsushi,” Chuuya says, raising a hand. “You ok in here?”
Then, a head of white, uneavenly-cut hair.
Wide eyes — big and /bright/ like a clear sky, changing with the light — seem to twinkle as Atsushi focuses on him.
“Chuuya!”
“Hey, Atsushi,” Chuuya says, raising a hand. “You ok in here?”
Atsushi chuckles and lifts the teapot. A suspicious black patina covers the pot’s belly.
“Hm— I’ve burnt the tea twice but I’m alive?”
As he throws back his head to laugh, Chuuya /realizes/ that Atsushi is making an effort for them.
He’s being extra careful, extra joyful, to
“Hm— I’ve burnt the tea twice but I’m alive?”
As he throws back his head to laugh, Chuuya /realizes/ that Atsushi is making an effort for them.
He’s being extra careful, extra joyful, to
play the role of sunshine that will scare away the dark clouds of what happened at the cafe.
And five seconds into the house Chuuya is already laughing, so the kiddos must be doing something right.
It /clutches/ Chuuya’s heart.
His stomach is also squeezed — jealousy toward
And five seconds into the house Chuuya is already laughing, so the kiddos must be doing something right.
It /clutches/ Chuuya’s heart.
His stomach is also squeezed — jealousy toward
that peace, /again/, for that perfect understanding — when Akutagawa and Dazai follow him into the room and Atsushi’s face /changes/.
The omega seems to open when he sees Akutagawa — and Akutagawa’s edges /disappear/ in return.
Chuuya supposes it’s because their relationship
The omega seems to open when he sees Akutagawa — and Akutagawa’s edges /disappear/ in return.
Chuuya supposes it’s because their relationship
is /mature/. It’s adult when they are so, so young.
The seem— /content/ with the other.
Serene.
Their differences complement each other like seasons rolling one after the other.
They’re never quite the same, and sometimes the clash is scary, but they /click/ together.
The seem— /content/ with the other.
Serene.
Their differences complement each other like seasons rolling one after the other.
They’re never quite the same, and sometimes the clash is scary, but they /click/ together.
With him and Dazai—
It’s all-consuming and fast-paced.
Even though he’s mad, Chuuya’s body seems to /sense/ the alpha across the room.
And maybe /because/ he is mad, he feels like he’s being dragged to him like a magnet.
His world turns into fire around Dazai. And, standing
It’s all-consuming and fast-paced.
Even though he’s mad, Chuuya’s body seems to /sense/ the alpha across the room.
And maybe /because/ he is mad, he feels like he’s being dragged to him like a magnet.
His world turns into fire around Dazai. And, standing
in the kitchen but with his mind far away, Chuuya wonders what he’d see if he could rip his chest open.
Will his soul be scarred, his heart covered in burns and blisters?
He wonders if what they have has a violent side after all.
Because it sure as hell /feels/ like it.
Will his soul be scarred, his heart covered in burns and blisters?
He wonders if what they have has a violent side after all.
Because it sure as hell /feels/ like it.
He’s dragged back to the present by Akutagawa going to Atsushi, reaching for him, bending oh so slightly to kiss the boy’s temple.
“Hello, kitten.”
“Hey, Ryuu.”
“I missed you,” Akutagawa hums, lips still pressed against Atsushi’s hair.
The omegas’ light purr fills the room,
“Hello, kitten.”
“Hey, Ryuu.”
“I missed you,” Akutagawa hums, lips still pressed against Atsushi’s hair.
The omegas’ light purr fills the room,
getting under Chuuya’s skin. He averts his eyes, feeling like he’s intruding on something intimate, and sees /Dazai/.
His gaze is somber, and Chuuya looks away — back to the two omegas.
It’s /awkward/, but it’s still better than looking at Dazai and remember how he commanded a
His gaze is somber, and Chuuya looks away — back to the two omegas.
It’s /awkward/, but it’s still better than looking at Dazai and remember how he commanded a
man to hurt himself.
“How was your day?” Akutagawa is asking.
Most people say Akutagawa’s smile looks scary, that fear born from something you don’t witness often.
For Chuuya, though, it’s a welcome change.
/Especially/ after today.
Atsushi leans a little more into his
“How was your day?” Akutagawa is asking.
Most people say Akutagawa’s smile looks scary, that fear born from something you don’t witness often.
For Chuuya, though, it’s a welcome change.
/Especially/ after today.
Atsushi leans a little more into his
boyfriend’s space.
“Surely better than yours, from what you told me. I’m happy you are ok.” He lifts an eyebrow, counting the heads. “Wait— I thought Dazai’s friend would be with you?”
Dazai twist a finger around a strand of hair, the way he always does when he’s embarrassed.
“Surely better than yours, from what you told me. I’m happy you are ok.” He lifts an eyebrow, counting the heads. “Wait— I thought Dazai’s friend would be with you?”
Dazai twist a finger around a strand of hair, the way he always does when he’s embarrassed.
Chuuya /recognizes/ it, by now. The tiniest tells, the little quirks of Dazai’s personality.
(How did he miss the darkness, then?
Was it in the way he dropped his wallet in the river the day they met?
Was it in the overflowing tub when he moved in?
/Was/ it anywhere?)
(How did he miss the darkness, then?
Was it in the way he dropped his wallet in the river the day they met?
Was it in the overflowing tub when he moved in?
/Was/ it anywhere?)
“Ranpo is not too sociable with strangers. We stopped by his house.”
Atsushi’s expression cracks a little, his eyes get darker. “/Oh/.”
Dazai’s expression is /sheepish/ as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”
“It’s ok. Was he alright?”
Atsushi’s expression cracks a little, his eyes get darker. “/Oh/.”
Dazai’s expression is /sheepish/ as he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”
“It’s ok. Was he alright?”
“I think so. He still says hi,” the alpha says. “But it’s been a long day for everybody.”
“—Right. How are you guys?”
“Fine,” Chuuya replies. Quick, a little /too/ quick.
Atsushi squints. Then, as he lets go, he must realize that it’s a lie that Chuuya doesn’t wish to unpack.
“—Right. How are you guys?”
“Fine,” Chuuya replies. Quick, a little /too/ quick.
Atsushi squints. Then, as he lets go, he must realize that it’s a lie that Chuuya doesn’t wish to unpack.
Not /yet/.
“It’s ok, we’re totally fine,” Akutagawa agrees.
“/Hm/.”
“Really!”
“Did you call Gin to tell her you’re fine?”
“She doesn’t need to k—“
“I already told her.”
Akutagawa grimaces a little. “/Ugh/. Fine. But we are ok, kitten. I promise.”
“It’s ok, we’re totally fine,” Akutagawa agrees.
“/Hm/.”
“Really!”
“Did you call Gin to tell her you’re fine?”
“She doesn’t need to k—“
“I already told her.”
Akutagawa grimaces a little. “/Ugh/. Fine. But we are ok, kitten. I promise.”
Atsushi’s eyes soften. “I believe you, baby, but call your sister anyway. She was worried too.” He then turns his head, lips curling up as he smiles. “Also, thank you guys for getting Ryuu a ride home.”
“It’s ok, it was fun! He hated it~” Dazai sing-songs.
He tries to wrap his
“It’s ok, it was fun! He hated it~” Dazai sing-songs.
He tries to wrap his
lanky arm around Akutagawa’s shoulders from behind, but the boy shoves him away. As he /hisses/, Akutagawa bares pointy, tiny fangs.
“I hate /you/.”
“Oh come on, you don’t~”
It’s /joyful/ and fake and Chuuya /cringes/ a little.
But it’s nothing compared to what he hears next
“I hate /you/.”
“Oh come on, you don’t~”
It’s /joyful/ and fake and Chuuya /cringes/ a little.
But it’s nothing compared to what he hears next
and to the hopeful gaze Atsushi lands on him.
“Hm— actually…” the omega starts. The he pauses, and gnaws at his bottom lip. “Before tea, if you two need to talk in private… there’s the bedroom.”
Chuuya slowly rubs the back of his head as if the gesture could /hide/ him away.
“Hm— actually…” the omega starts. The he pauses, and gnaws at his bottom lip. “Before tea, if you two need to talk in private… there’s the bedroom.”
Chuuya slowly rubs the back of his head as if the gesture could /hide/ him away.
/Shit/, here they go.
And it’s too damn soon, and Dazai is not /answering/, so he hums:
“We don’t want to intrude.”
“Don’t worry, we have a room for our nest,” Atsushi explains, a vague blush spreading on his face. “That one is like a guest bedroom. It’s the only spare room.”
And it’s too damn soon, and Dazai is not /answering/, so he hums:
“We don’t want to intrude.”
“Don’t worry, we have a room for our nest,” Atsushi explains, a vague blush spreading on his face. “That one is like a guest bedroom. It’s the only spare room.”
“It’s the ‘Ryuu I’m mad at you, go sleep in the bedroom’ bedroom,” Akutagawa adds, rolling his eyes.
“And you get extra cuddles every single time,” Atsushi purrs, reaching for his boyfriend to wrap his arms around his waist.
“/True that/.”
“It’s ok, really,” Chuuya insists.
“And you get extra cuddles every single time,” Atsushi purrs, reaching for his boyfriend to wrap his arms around his waist.
“/True that/.”
“It’s ok, really,” Chuuya insists.
But Atsushi is /stubborn/. His eyebrows knit together, and he looks like he’s ready to fight Chuuya for the sake of his own happiness.
“Seriously, go, have a yell and come back here happy.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“It /is/,” Akutagawa adds.
“I—“
“Thank you, both,” Dazai
“Seriously, go, have a yell and come back here happy.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“It /is/,” Akutagawa adds.
“I—“
“Thank you, both,” Dazai
cuts him halfway before Chuuya
can downright refuse, voice /serious/ although leveled. It’s the lilt that makes Chuuya believe they’ll be alright. “It won’t be long.”
But at that point, there is nothing Chuuya can do.
Nothing but nod, murmur ‘if we have to’ and follow Dazai.
can downright refuse, voice /serious/ although leveled. It’s the lilt that makes Chuuya believe they’ll be alright. “It won’t be long.”
But at that point, there is nothing Chuuya can do.
Nothing but nod, murmur ‘if we have to’ and follow Dazai.
“/You could have just told him to leave/.”
Here they go.
Dazai is pacing, up and down and running circles.
Chuuya’s voice is /swelling/. He doesn’t even remember when he started yelling.
The words he’s not saying scrap his throat, abrasive — poisonous.
Dazai throws his
Here they go.
Dazai is pacing, up and down and running circles.
Chuuya’s voice is /swelling/. He doesn’t even remember when he started yelling.
The words he’s not saying scrap his throat, abrasive — poisonous.
Dazai throws his
hands up, exasperated.
“He deserved worse.”
“Do you /hear/ yourself!?”
“You heard him, you—”
“I /heard/ him calling me a slut, Osamu, thank you very much,” Chuuya volleys back, eyes dark. “And if /I/ can avoid breaking the law while /I/ am being called that, so can you.”
“He deserved worse.”
“Do you /hear/ yourself!?”
“You heard him, you—”
“I /heard/ him calling me a slut, Osamu, thank you very much,” Chuuya volleys back, eyes dark. “And if /I/ can avoid breaking the law while /I/ am being called that, so can you.”
Dazai halts, stopping on his tracks as if he might /stumble/ over the accusation.
As his surprise tapers away, his eyes grow darker — a light winking off somewhere behind the alpha’s amber irises.
“Chuuya, I don’t use commands lightly,” he says, voice slightly strained.
As his surprise tapers away, his eyes grow darker — a light winking off somewhere behind the alpha’s amber irises.
“Chuuya, I don’t use commands lightly,” he says, voice slightly strained.
And Chuuya would like to laugh, then, because what does it mean? Thank god Dazai doesn’t use commands lightly, hm? Thank god he has /one/ brain cell.
And yet— why was today different?
Again, what does it /mean/?
That Chuuya is worth the risk? Is it romantic?
Are they in
And yet— why was today different?
Again, what does it /mean/?
That Chuuya is worth the risk? Is it romantic?
Are they in
some shitty gangster movie now?
Because if they are, Chuuya is not fucking cut for the mafia. No, sir. His heart is tripping over itself for all the wrong reasons.
All he feels is /worry/.
“Well, no shit. You shouldn’t be using them /at all/.”
“That’s unrealistic, Chibi.”
Because if they are, Chuuya is not fucking cut for the mafia. No, sir. His heart is tripping over itself for all the wrong reasons.
All he feels is /worry/.
“Well, no shit. You shouldn’t be using them /at all/.”
“That’s unrealistic, Chibi.”
“That’s the /law/. You can’t go around commanding people to spill boiling shit on themselves.”
Dazai’s shoulders sag.
“Chuuya—“
Chuuya raises a hand, showing the alpha his open palm.
“No, I…” He sighs, exhaustion already seeping through the cracks. “I need to process.”
Dazai’s shoulders sag.
“Chuuya—“
Chuuya raises a hand, showing the alpha his open palm.
“No, I…” He sighs, exhaustion already seeping through the cracks. “I need to process.”
“I understand.”
“/Do/ you?”
Dazai’s lips close in a thin, pale line. He seems to /deflate/ before he speaks: “Yes, Chuuya, I do. Just, if you could see my side, it would be /great/.”
“I’m trying!”
Ah, fuck, he’s screaming again. And he sounded like an asshole just now.
“/Do/ you?”
Dazai’s lips close in a thin, pale line. He seems to /deflate/ before he speaks: “Yes, Chuuya, I do. Just, if you could see my side, it would be /great/.”
“I’m trying!”
Ah, fuck, he’s screaming again. And he sounded like an asshole just now.
He really needs to stop doing that, doesn’t he?
“…Look, ‘Samu, I don’t want to argue.”
“We are /not/ fighting,—“ the brunet’s voice dies in a sigh. Yes, they are. “Fine. Ok. Go on.”
“I don’t want to argue because you did it for us. And I am /grateful/. But it was stupid.”
“…Look, ‘Samu, I don’t want to argue.”
“We are /not/ fighting,—“ the brunet’s voice dies in a sigh. Yes, they are. “Fine. Ok. Go on.”
“I don’t want to argue because you did it for us. And I am /grateful/. But it was stupid.”
“I’m sorry,” Dazai says. “I didn’t think you’d be so mad.”
“That’s really not the point.”
Moving his weight from one foot to the other, Dazai hesitates.
He looks older, now — put together, composed, and detached from the argument. He looks /far away/.
And right then and
“That’s really not the point.”
Moving his weight from one foot to the other, Dazai hesitates.
He looks older, now — put together, composed, and detached from the argument. He looks /far away/.
And right then and
there, Chuuya decides that he doesn’t like it when Dazai looks at him as he might look at a riddle, at an annoying question he has no answer for.
“Then I don’t /see/ a point at all, other than I did something you asked me not to.”
// You’re mad I stepped in. //
Which, frankly—
“Then I don’t /see/ a point at all, other than I did something you asked me not to.”
// You’re mad I stepped in. //
Which, frankly—
It’s only /part/ of the problem.
The situation steals a snort out of the redhead.
“We could have been fired! You’re lucky /I/ practically run that place, but what if my boss decides to check the security cameras?”
“Fitzgerald doesn’t /care/, you say that all the time.”
The situation steals a snort out of the redhead.
“We could have been fired! You’re lucky /I/ practically run that place, but what if my boss decides to check the security cameras?”
“Fitzgerald doesn’t /care/, you say that all the time.”
“He /will/ care if he gets wind that one of his customers hurt himself under the influence of an alpha command.”
“Alpha commands are used all the time.”
Chuuya doesn’t reply — not immediately.
Yes, they are used.
That doesn’t make it legal.
And he can’t quite pinpoint what
“Alpha commands are used all the time.”
Chuuya doesn’t reply — not immediately.
Yes, they are used.
That doesn’t make it legal.
And he can’t quite pinpoint what
hurts the most, if the paternalism in Dazai’s voice — how he seems to position himself on a higher level when they discuss — or if it’s the fact that Dazai considers commanding people around the norm.
Because that law being ‘ignored all the time’, like it’s nothing but an
Because that law being ‘ignored all the time’, like it’s nothing but an
afterthought— it is something omegas /fought/ for.
The price for it has been paid in ounces of blood.
One suicide that was actually an homicide too much, a sexual assault that reached the news. Many different victims becoming a crowd, because not all alphas /know/ when to stop
The price for it has been paid in ounces of blood.
One suicide that was actually an homicide too much, a sexual assault that reached the news. Many different victims becoming a crowd, because not all alphas /know/ when to stop
Some even thought they were /protecting/ their omegas, their betas, their families.
Eventually the public finally realized that, in a civilized society, there is no /place/ for mind control.
Also, alpha commands are sneaky.
Eventually the public finally realized that, in a civilized society, there is no /place/ for mind control.
Also, alpha commands are sneaky.
It’s a thin line between “honey, calm down” and a “don’t scream, don’t move, it’ll all be over soon. You cannot say no. You don’t /want/ to say no.”
It’s more than bed play, out of the bedroom. Out of the heat and rut, it becomes a fight between dominance and human nature.
It’s more than bed play, out of the bedroom. Out of the heat and rut, it becomes a fight between dominance and human nature.
And if an /omega/ is involved, if an omega sees and doesn’t report, that’s a problem.
Chuuya takes a deep sigh, trying not spiral into those thoughts.
“Dazai, I’m just saying that you risked my goddamn job and to be sued.”
Dazai scowls. “For what, defending you?”
Chuuya takes a deep sigh, trying not spiral into those thoughts.
“Dazai, I’m just saying that you risked my goddamn job and to be sued.”
Dazai scowls. “For what, defending you?”
“I told you not to!” Chuuya /roars/, throwing his hands in the air. “I was handling it.”
“By letting him disrespect you?”
“Yes! He would have gone away. But we don’t raise up against every single asshole who calls us names, Osamu, or we would be fighting all day every day.”
“By letting him disrespect you?”
“Yes! He would have gone away. But we don’t raise up against every single asshole who calls us names, Osamu, or we would be fighting all day every day.”
“But that’s not fair.”
“Good fucking morning! The world is not always fair, and you’re officially the last one to notice!”
“I don’t /know/, Chuuya,” he replies, voice /thundering/ even thought he’s not yelling. “I don’t know. I’m don’t normally defend people, I don’t normally
“Good fucking morning! The world is not always fair, and you’re officially the last one to notice!”
“I don’t /know/, Chuuya,” he replies, voice /thundering/ even thought he’s not yelling. “I don’t know. I’m don’t normally defend people, I don’t normally
/care/, so I’m sorry if I fucked up, ok? I am /learning/.”
The omega expected Dazai to answer, to fight him, but not /this/.
It makes Chuuya stop, it tapers his anger away.
The brunet stays still, looking at him with big, hollow eyes. He’s beautiful even like this, pale and
The omega expected Dazai to answer, to fight him, but not /this/.
It makes Chuuya stop, it tapers his anger away.
The brunet stays still, looking at him with big, hollow eyes. He’s beautiful even like this, pale and
with lips curled downwards and hair tousled just so.
Chuuya doesn’t really know where Dazai comes from.
He doesn’t know his background, what kind of trauma etched this violence in him.
All he knows is a boy eyes full of pain and a buttery voice, all round and no edges.
Chuuya doesn’t really know where Dazai comes from.
He doesn’t know his background, what kind of trauma etched this violence in him.
All he knows is a boy eyes full of pain and a buttery voice, all round and no edges.
All he knows is a damaged boy who hates himself.
But he does not /know/ this alpha.
And suddenly Chuuya realizes that they got together fast — they were friends, but were they /really/ friends?
Dazai never opened up with him.
And that’s on Chuuya, really, because one day
But he does not /know/ this alpha.
And suddenly Chuuya realizes that they got together fast — they were friends, but were they /really/ friends?
Dazai never opened up with him.
And that’s on Chuuya, really, because one day
they kissed and he decided that he knew Dazai /enough/.
He stopped asking, stopped wanting to know more — when Dazai is always asking, he’s always discovering him and always making an effort.
“It’s just… I didn’t recognize you, back there,” Chuuya hums. “It was…”
/Scary/.
He stopped asking, stopped wanting to know more — when Dazai is always asking, he’s always discovering him and always making an effort.
“It’s just… I didn’t recognize you, back there,” Chuuya hums. “It was…”
/Scary/.
Dazai’s eyebrows disappear behind his fringe.
“You always knew I could command people.”
“Not like this.” Chuuya shifts in place, hunting the right words down. “It was creepy, Samu, how you gave a man /burns/. How /confident/ you looked, like it didn’t bother you at all.”
“You always knew I could command people.”
“Not like this.” Chuuya shifts in place, hunting the right words down. “It was creepy, Samu, how you gave a man /burns/. How /confident/ you looked, like it didn’t bother you at all.”
“It did bother me,” Dazai hums. “But you know what also bothered me? The idea of him /hurting/ you.”
“You don’t have to avenge me. I’m not some shitty Disney princess.”
“No, you’re not. And I’m sorry. I have… more control, normally.”
Chuuya gnaws at his bottom lip, in silence
“You don’t have to avenge me. I’m not some shitty Disney princess.”
“No, you’re not. And I’m sorry. I have… more control, normally.”
Chuuya gnaws at his bottom lip, in silence
and Dazai pushes forward:
“I am /sorry/, sweetheart.”
Chuuya takes a deep breath and a step in Dazai’s direction.
Before he knows it he’s enveloped in the alpha’s arms, lulled in his scent.
“Thanks for having my back, anyway,” Chuuya murmurs, face buried in Dazai’s chest.
“I am /sorry/, sweetheart.”
Chuuya takes a deep breath and a step in Dazai’s direction.
Before he knows it he’s enveloped in the alpha’s arms, lulled in his scent.
“Thanks for having my back, anyway,” Chuuya murmurs, face buried in Dazai’s chest.
“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Dazai replies, voice soft, nose sunk in Chuuya’s hair.
“It’s fine, now.”
“I would never command you,” Dazai murmurs, voice vibrating in Chuuya’s soul.
Chuuya hums, nuzzling in the alpha’s shirt.
“I know,” he says. “I trust you.”
And it’s almost
“It’s fine, now.”
“I would never command you,” Dazai murmurs, voice vibrating in Chuuya’s soul.
Chuuya hums, nuzzling in the alpha’s shirt.
“I know,” he says. “I trust you.”
And it’s almost
/crazy/ how easily things click back in place, now that exhaustion took over Chuuya.
He doesn’t /want/ to argue anymore.
Forgiveness comes to him in a lazy mutiny of his body. His heart swells with the steady drumming of Dazai’s heartbeat and his arms circle Dazai’s
He doesn’t /want/ to argue anymore.
Forgiveness comes to him in a lazy mutiny of his body. His heart swells with the steady drumming of Dazai’s heartbeat and his arms circle Dazai’s
middle despite his brain /still/ resenting the alpha.
It’s a decision dictated by tiredness and the hearth-warm feelings that dwell in him, steadier and stronger than any anger.
Peace comes /easily/.
In silence Dazai pulls back, and bends, and Chuuya /raises/ on his tippy-toes
It’s a decision dictated by tiredness and the hearth-warm feelings that dwell in him, steadier and stronger than any anger.
Peace comes /easily/.
In silence Dazai pulls back, and bends, and Chuuya /raises/ on his tippy-toes
In response.
There is unspoken, infinite tenderness in the way Dazai kisses him now — an apology and a love declaration.
It’s a plea, because it’s clear that the alpha doesn’t like to fight and, frankly, neither does Chuuya.
And the omega returns the kiss with /all/ he has,
There is unspoken, infinite tenderness in the way Dazai kisses him now — an apology and a love declaration.
It’s a plea, because it’s clear that the alpha doesn’t like to fight and, frankly, neither does Chuuya.
And the omega returns the kiss with /all/ he has,
with all his body and heart, all the pent-up worry. He kisses him drowning into the contact, because Dazai defending him /did/ made him feel lots of things.
Some of them are closer to arousal than Chuuya is comfortable admitting.
(He knows it’s wrong.)
(/Of course/ he does.)
Some of them are closer to arousal than Chuuya is comfortable admitting.
(He knows it’s wrong.)
(/Of course/ he does.)
Dazai’s hand slides under his shirt.
(He should stick to being /mad/.)
Chuuya’s entire body comes alive with the touch, with the grazing of fingers on bare skin and Dazai’s teeth nibbling at his bottom lip.
(But /shit/—
Dazai did that for /him/.)
With a noise from the back
(He should stick to being /mad/.)
Chuuya’s entire body comes alive with the touch, with the grazing of fingers on bare skin and Dazai’s teeth nibbling at his bottom lip.
(But /shit/—
Dazai did that for /him/.)
With a noise from the back
of his throat, the redhead pushes /closer/ into Dazai’s space, mouths turning /hungry/.
The brunet’s hands ghost over Chuuya’s hips, his ribs, the small of his back. They settle on his ass, squeezing just so.
It’s an /eager/ touch, but not demanding.
A shiver jolts down
The brunet’s hands ghost over Chuuya’s hips, his ribs, the small of his back. They settle on his ass, squeezing just so.
It’s an /eager/ touch, but not demanding.
A shiver jolts down
the omega as he realizes that even though there is a spark of /possessiveness/ in Dazai’s kiss, in his touch, he’s still respecting Chuuya’s body.
He didn’t /forget/.
“Dazai,” he murmurs, breaking away from the kiss, mouth still pressing against the alpha’s. “We should…”
He didn’t /forget/.
“Dazai,” he murmurs, breaking away from the kiss, mouth still pressing against the alpha’s. “We should…”
They should go back.
Akutagawa and Atsushi are waiting.
/Hell/, they are in someone else’s spare bedroom.
And Chuuya should at least ask about the darkness he glimpsed in his boyfriend.
They should keep talking about /why/ Dazai acted the way he acted.
Akutagawa and Atsushi are waiting.
/Hell/, they are in someone else’s spare bedroom.
And Chuuya should at least ask about the darkness he glimpsed in his boyfriend.
They should keep talking about /why/ Dazai acted the way he acted.
Forcing his brain to focus, Chuuya takes a small breath.
All he can take in is Dazai’s /scent/.
Still, he says: “You can talk to me, you know? About your past.”
Dazai stops.
He takes some distance, eyes so /murky/ with desire and expression so /serious/ that a ripple shots
All he can take in is Dazai’s /scent/.
Still, he says: “You can talk to me, you know? About your past.”
Dazai stops.
He takes some distance, eyes so /murky/ with desire and expression so /serious/ that a ripple shots
down Chuuya’s spine.
He looks at the redhead’s lips from under long, dark lashes, and leans forward oh so slightly.
“To be honest, Chibi—“ Dazai’s voice is throaty, velvet-heavy. He’s a breath away, still staring at Chuuya’s lips. “I don’t feel like /talking/, now.”
He looks at the redhead’s lips from under long, dark lashes, and leans forward oh so slightly.
“To be honest, Chibi—“ Dazai’s voice is throaty, velvet-heavy. He’s a breath away, still staring at Chuuya’s lips. “I don’t feel like /talking/, now.”
Chuuya opens his mouth, then closes it.
His hands rest on Dazai’s hips, smoothing the wrinkles on the cotton of his shirt, chest against Dazai’s chest.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Chuuya,” he says. “/I’m sure/.”
Give me space, it means.
And Chuuya might not know Dazai much,
His hands rest on Dazai’s hips, smoothing the wrinkles on the cotton of his shirt, chest against Dazai’s chest.
“You sure?” he asks.
“Chuuya,” he says. “/I’m sure/.”
Give me space, it means.
And Chuuya might not know Dazai much,
but he knows that the alpha loves to talk only when he’s protected behind the shield of his many, many masks. And ‘space’ is the same thing Chuuya asked him before, so he replies with what Dazai already gave him: trust.
There are so many things he wants Dazai to do, right now.
There are so many things he wants Dazai to do, right now.
Open up with me, trust me, live me, /love/ me.
Let me in.
Let me know you for real.
But he also knows what all that can wait until Dazai’s /ready/.
As silence settles around them, Dazai lowers on him. His breath ghosts over the omega’s cheek just as his mouth covers Chuuya’s
Let me in.
Let me know you for real.
But he also knows what all that can wait until Dazai’s /ready/.
As silence settles around them, Dazai lowers on him. His breath ghosts over the omega’s cheek just as his mouth covers Chuuya’s
The alpha’s lips are warm.
They’re generous — because Dazai /is/ a spoiled brat and a possessive jerk, at times, but he’s a generous kisser.
He’s the best one Chuuya ever met, hands and lips so /skilled/, scent lulling Chuuya in a embrace of its own, teeth biting just enough.
They’re generous — because Dazai /is/ a spoiled brat and a possessive jerk, at times, but he’s a generous kisser.
He’s the best one Chuuya ever met, hands and lips so /skilled/, scent lulling Chuuya in a embrace of its own, teeth biting just enough.
Just like that, he can make Chuuya’s entire world stop.
And the omega finds himself closing his eyes, letting the contact carry him away.
He’d gladly forget his damn /name/ after today, and definitely he’s eager to forget he and Dazai ever argued.
The leftover adrenaline from
And the omega finds himself closing his eyes, letting the contact carry him away.
He’d gladly forget his damn /name/ after today, and definitely he’s eager to forget he and Dazai ever argued.
The leftover adrenaline from
the recent fight shots sparks down Chuuya’s spine.
He feels all the anger and the fatigue slip away, leaving space for that sense of need and /closeness/ that only comes after an argument.
(Chuuya shrugs away the voice that reminds him it’s only partially resolved.)
He feels all the anger and the fatigue slip away, leaving space for that sense of need and /closeness/ that only comes after an argument.
(Chuuya shrugs away the voice that reminds him it’s only partially resolved.)
His fingers graze the front of Dazai’s shirt before clutching the fabric, tugging him /closer/ though there is really no space left between them.
Steady on Chuuya’s hips, gentle, Dazai’s hands guide the redhead’s steps until his legs hit the bed’s edge.
They both flinch, then
Steady on Chuuya’s hips, gentle, Dazai’s hands guide the redhead’s steps until his legs hit the bed’s edge.
They both flinch, then
chuckle against each other’s mouth.
The shush each other, a glint of playfulness in their eyes as they whisper, ‘don’t be loud’ and ‘Ryuu’s gonna kill us’ at the same time.
They laugh more, then — louder, the sound muffled in kisses that are hungry and happy and lightheaded
The shush each other, a glint of playfulness in their eyes as they whisper, ‘don’t be loud’ and ‘Ryuu’s gonna kill us’ at the same time.
They laugh more, then — louder, the sound muffled in kisses that are hungry and happy and lightheaded
It feels good to laugh and joke like this after the day they both had. Dazai pulls away a little, face serious.
“I never wanted to scare you,” he murmurs, like he’s talking through a trance. “I’m sorry.”
Chuuya’s heart stutters.
“It’s ok.”
“I care so /much/ about you.”
“I never wanted to scare you,” he murmurs, like he’s talking through a trance. “I’m sorry.”
Chuuya’s heart stutters.
“It’s ok.”
“I care so /much/ about you.”
“I know,” Chuuya says, kissing Dazai’s chin, the sharp line of his jaw. His mouth. “I do, too.”
Dazai did scare and disappoint him, but this kiss—
This kiss, these wandering hands, Dazai’s scent and his tongue and his /voice/, it all makes what happened seem /inconsequential/.
Dazai did scare and disappoint him, but this kiss—
This kiss, these wandering hands, Dazai’s scent and his tongue and his /voice/, it all makes what happened seem /inconsequential/.
And Chuuya can’t breath, his heart running in his chest, his hunger /soaring/.
They need to get back, but Chuuya keeps telling himself it’s just a kiss. A very much heated, long ‘I forgive you’ kiss.
And they are in /Atsushi and Ryuu’s house/, they can’t… right?
/Right?/
They need to get back, but Chuuya keeps telling himself it’s just a kiss. A very much heated, long ‘I forgive you’ kiss.
And they are in /Atsushi and Ryuu’s house/, they can’t… right?
/Right?/
Dazai gently pushes him on the bed, and Chuuya sits on the mattress with a soft thud. The springs creak under his weight, and suddenly Dazai is on top of him, kissing him.
His stomach churns, and suddenly his pants feel /tight/.
And with that, fear blooms in his chest. Fear
His stomach churns, and suddenly his pants feel /tight/.
And with that, fear blooms in his chest. Fear
of the inevitable pain, already looming over him, and of /Dazai’s expectations/. Anxiety seeps through the cracks of his subconscious. Rationally, he knows they can’t — and they won’t— do anything now.
Rationally, he knows.
But his /body/ is sending him signals that don’t sit
Rationally, he knows.
But his /body/ is sending him signals that don’t sit
well with his anxiety.
It’s ridiculous how /that/ scares him more than the perspective of being heard by Atsushi and Akutagawa. It’s absurd how that is what makes his brain finally stop.
“Samu, no, I—“
/I can’t, you know why I can’t./
Immediately, Dazai halts.
It’s ridiculous how /that/ scares him more than the perspective of being heard by Atsushi and Akutagawa. It’s absurd how that is what makes his brain finally stop.
“Samu, no, I—“
/I can’t, you know why I can’t./
Immediately, Dazai halts.
“I just want to kiss you,” he clarifies immediately. “I’m going to stop if that’s not ok.”
Chuuya shudders.
/You’re not good enough,/ a voice whispers in his head. He shrugs it away.
“Kisses are fine.”
“Just tell me to stop, and I will.”
He’s saying that because of me,
Chuuya shudders.
/You’re not good enough,/ a voice whispers in his head. He shrugs it away.
“Kisses are fine.”
“Just tell me to stop, and I will.”
He’s saying that because of me,
Chuuya realizes, not because we’re in someone else’s house.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Good,” Dazai says. His eyes seem to pierce past Chuuya’s defenses. “/Good/.”
He glances at the door, one eye cracked open. But shit— Chuuya doesn’t want to go back now.
Not /yet/.
He lowers his
“No, it’s fine.”
“Good,” Dazai says. His eyes seem to pierce past Chuuya’s defenses. “/Good/.”
He glances at the door, one eye cracked open. But shit— Chuuya doesn’t want to go back now.
Not /yet/.
He lowers his
hand, which had found its way into Dazai hair.
Still, Dazai claims his mouth back — and his full attention, too.
“They can wait two minutes more,” Dazai hums, breathy, reaching for Chuuya and guiding his hand back into his hair.
God, he thinks. He murmurs it into the kiss,
Still, Dazai claims his mouth back — and his full attention, too.
“They can wait two minutes more,” Dazai hums, breathy, reaching for Chuuya and guiding his hand back into his hair.
God, he thinks. He murmurs it into the kiss,
too.
God, he hates to fight.
He hates to feel objectified by random betas and alphas, but Dazai makes him feel appreciated.
He makes him feel /seen/.
Dazai’s hand travels under Chuuya’s black shirt, palming his flat stomach, his warm skin.
It’s just a touch, but it feels
God, he hates to fight.
He hates to feel objectified by random betas and alphas, but Dazai makes him feel appreciated.
He makes him feel /seen/.
Dazai’s hand travels under Chuuya’s black shirt, palming his flat stomach, his warm skin.
It’s just a touch, but it feels
a little more dangerous and provocative than it normally does — and Chuuya feels young and stupid.
He’ll apologize to Ryuu later.
Hell, he’ll buy a gigantic present for Diablo. He will—
(Ah, who does even /care/ when Dazai is sucking love bites on his neck?)
The scent of
He’ll apologize to Ryuu later.
Hell, he’ll buy a gigantic present for Diablo. He will—
(Ah, who does even /care/ when Dazai is sucking love bites on his neck?)
The scent of
need rouses Chuuya, /intoxicating/, a blend of his sweetness and Dazai’s hunger.
It blankets them, spreading in the room.
A soft moan escapes Chuuya’s lips just as he’s arching his back.
/Ah, shit/.
He halts immediately, going stiff under Dazai’s mouth.
“Sorry,” he mutters
It blankets them, spreading in the room.
A soft moan escapes Chuuya’s lips just as he’s arching his back.
/Ah, shit/.
He halts immediately, going stiff under Dazai’s mouth.
“Sorry,” he mutters
a burning blush spreading across his cheeks.
He’s so flustered he can barely speak, but Dazai’s smirk could cut through glass.
“Something to say, Chibi?” He teases.
Chuuya’s blush turns into a /fire/. He tries to stammer an apology, cut short by the sound of steps outside.
He’s so flustered he can barely speak, but Dazai’s smirk could cut through glass.
“Something to say, Chibi?” He teases.
Chuuya’s blush turns into a /fire/. He tries to stammer an apology, cut short by the sound of steps outside.
“Fuck, sorry, that was—“
Loud. Unnecessary.
/Embarrassing/.
“That was /gorgeous/. I’d like to hear that louder,” Dazai whispers, nibbling at the tender skin of Chuuya’s neck, right under the jawbone.
/Maybe not now/.
“Dazai—“
“I like it when you moan for me,” Dazai says.
Loud. Unnecessary.
/Embarrassing/.
“That was /gorgeous/. I’d like to hear that louder,” Dazai whispers, nibbling at the tender skin of Chuuya’s neck, right under the jawbone.
/Maybe not now/.
“Dazai—“
“I like it when you moan for me,” Dazai says.
It’s so /innocent/, a statement like any other.
Yet, just like that, Chuuya is a goner all over again.
He sounds /serious/, all big amber eyes and glossy lips, but how can he be?
How can he be so cheeky with someone else a few doors away?
But Dazai drags him into another
Yet, just like that, Chuuya is a goner all over again.
He sounds /serious/, all big amber eyes and glossy lips, but how can he be?
How can he be so cheeky with someone else a few doors away?
But Dazai drags him into another
kiss, and another train of thoughts gets broken and forgotten.
Suddenly Dazai is /weighing/ on top of him more persistently, and the bed cracks under their weight, and his hands are under Chuuya’s shirt and—
“Don’t even /think/ about it!” Akutagawa bellows from behind the door.
Suddenly Dazai is /weighing/ on top of him more persistently, and the bed cracks under their weight, and his hands are under Chuuya’s shirt and—
“Don’t even /think/ about it!” Akutagawa bellows from behind the door.
Chuuya flinches, practically throwing Dazai off the bed.
“Shit,” he growls.
He barely tunes in with the ‘oof, what the hell?!’ coming from the alpha that has been pushed onto the floor. Blood rushes in his head.
//Shit.//
“Oi, Akutagawa, stop yelling!” he screams back, voice
“Shit,” he growls.
He barely tunes in with the ‘oof, what the hell?!’ coming from the alpha that has been pushed onto the floor. Blood rushes in his head.
//Shit.//
“Oi, Akutagawa, stop yelling!” he screams back, voice
/throaty/. The taste of Dazai’s kisses still lingers on the tip of his tongue. “You know it’s not good for your lungs!”
“You two idiots fucking in /my/ spare bedroom is not good for my lungs!”
“What?!” Chuuya yells, choking on spit.
Dazai is grinning like a madman, though.
“You two idiots fucking in /my/ spare bedroom is not good for my lungs!”
“What?!” Chuuya yells, choking on spit.
Dazai is grinning like a madman, though.
“Come on, Baby Vampire. We were taking~”
“Sure. /Out/.”
Chuuya can hear Atsushi laugh his lungs out on the other side of the door, and his stomach falls to his ankles in a tangle of shame and desire quickly fading away.
“Coming,” he says — and regrets it /immediately/.
“Sure. /Out/.”
Chuuya can hear Atsushi laugh his lungs out on the other side of the door, and his stomach falls to his ankles in a tangle of shame and desire quickly fading away.
“Coming,” he says — and regrets it /immediately/.
He’s sure he heard Akutagawa screech.
Dazai’s smirk looks like a fox’s, now.
“Seriously, Chibi?”
“I didn’t say it to be /allusive/!” the omega screams.
At this point, he’s pretty sure he’ll set himself on fire with all the heat accumulated on his face and neck.
Dazai’s smirk looks like a fox’s, now.
“Seriously, Chibi?”
“I didn’t say it to be /allusive/!” the omega screams.
At this point, he’s pretty sure he’ll set himself on fire with all the heat accumulated on his face and neck.
“I don’t want to hear you two,” Akutagawa growls.
“Huh? Then don’t listen!”
“You were /loud/.”
“Well, I’m fucking sorry!”
“Yup, sorry~”
Unlike him, Dazai doesn’t sound sorry /at all/.
“I’ll buy you a new bed,” Chuuya hears himself saying. Atsushi’s chuckle rings louder.
“Huh? Then don’t listen!”
“You were /loud/.”
“Well, I’m fucking sorry!”
“Yup, sorry~”
Unlike him, Dazai doesn’t sound sorry /at all/.
“I’ll buy you a new bed,” Chuuya hears himself saying. Atsushi’s chuckle rings louder.
“You better,” Akutagawa says.
“Make it a queen size this time,” Atsushi echoes, and at least he doesn’t sound scarred for life. Then, softer: “Come on, Ryuu. We’ll wait in the kitchen.”
“You have five seconds.”
“Ryuu!” Chuuya howls, lowkey desperate.
“Make it a queen size this time,” Atsushi echoes, and at least he doesn’t sound scarred for life. Then, softer: “Come on, Ryuu. We’ll wait in the kitchen.”
“You have five seconds.”
“Ryuu!” Chuuya howls, lowkey desperate.
After that, Dazai is the first to reach for the door. When Chuuya reminds him that they still need to talk, the alpha shrugs.
“Tomorrow,” he says. It doesn’t sound genuine.
They stay at Atsushi and Ryuunosuke’s for dinner. Ryuu is scowling as he shoots a few snide comments.
“Tomorrow,” he says. It doesn’t sound genuine.
They stay at Atsushi and Ryuunosuke’s for dinner. Ryuu is scowling as he shoots a few snide comments.
Atsushi asks if they are ‘all good now’, and Dazai squeezes Chuuya’s hand under the table and… and it feels /normal/.
Truth be told, Chuuya can see himself in a future like this.
A mate, a few best friends, a house to return to. A good life.
Even if he’s half an omega. Half
Truth be told, Chuuya can see himself in a future like this.
A mate, a few best friends, a house to return to. A good life.
Even if he’s half an omega. Half
a /slut/.
Even if Dazai hosts some cruelty in him — a darkness that never shone quite so violently as today.
What he doesn’t know is that Dazai lied.
Atsushi asked him if he and Chuuya are good, and he offered the boy a half-truth.
Dazai is /not/, by all means, all good.
Even if Dazai hosts some cruelty in him — a darkness that never shone quite so violently as today.
What he doesn’t know is that Dazai lied.
Atsushi asked him if he and Chuuya are good, and he offered the boy a half-truth.
Dazai is /not/, by all means, all good.
He doesn’t want Chuuya to get to know /this/ side of him.
Before Chuuya, his existence kept swinging between utter torment and mundane joys.
A good grade, getting a score higher than Ranpo’s, ignoring Mori’s calls. Good, little, fleeting victories.
Yet, now, life seemed
Before Chuuya, his existence kept swinging between utter torment and mundane joys.
A good grade, getting a score higher than Ranpo’s, ignoring Mori’s calls. Good, little, fleeting victories.
Yet, now, life seemed
easier, less risky, before he let himself fall in love.
Before, it was easier to mute the voices while lost in Chuuya’s kisses.
The omega’s touch /grounded/ him.
Now, Dazai looks at Chuuya — laughing at Atsushi’s stories, bantering with Ryuu, smiling at him — and it’s like
Before, it was easier to mute the voices while lost in Chuuya’s kisses.
The omega’s touch /grounded/ him.
Now, Dazai looks at Chuuya — laughing at Atsushi’s stories, bantering with Ryuu, smiling at him — and it’s like
an invisible foot stomped on his chest.
God, he really wanted to kill that beta. He needed his blood in retribution for Chuuya’s honor.
Dazai needed, wanted, longed to hurt him.
//I’m sorry I scared you//
And he is. He is mortified.
He cannot even /think/ about it, focusing
God, he really wanted to kill that beta. He needed his blood in retribution for Chuuya’s honor.
Dazai needed, wanted, longed to hurt him.
//I’m sorry I scared you//
And he is. He is mortified.
He cannot even /think/ about it, focusing
raw need to escape the feeling that he failed Chuuya.
Mori used to tell him he’s full of darkness.
That he doesn’t know his parents, therefore he doesn’t know himself.
All he knows is that Mori is /cruel/ and smart — that’s what Dazai inherited from being raised by him.
Mori used to tell him he’s full of darkness.
That he doesn’t know his parents, therefore he doesn’t know himself.
All he knows is that Mori is /cruel/ and smart — that’s what Dazai inherited from being raised by him.
For so long he tried to keep that lucid cruelty at bay.
Today, he failed.
Today, he proved Mori right.
It’s not enough, Dazai thinks. It’s not what Chuuya deserves.
(He needs to see Odasaku.
He needs to call Odasaku, tell him what happened, ask him what it /means/.
Today, he failed.
Today, he proved Mori right.
It’s not enough, Dazai thinks. It’s not what Chuuya deserves.
(He needs to see Odasaku.
He needs to call Odasaku, tell him what happened, ask him what it /means/.
He needs to stop thinking and calm down.)
When he catches himself staring into the middle distance, dissociated from the discussion that engrossed the others at the dinner table, Dazai is relieved to realize that no one noticed he was /gone/.
-
When he catches himself staring into the middle distance, dissociated from the discussion that engrossed the others at the dinner table, Dazai is relieved to realize that no one noticed he was /gone/.
-
“You seem troubled.”
Odasaku comments always sound sharp. He knows exactly what to say and, perhaps even more amazingly, he knows what /Dazai/ is thinking.
The man has the mellowness of omegas with none of the naivety. That’s one of the many wonders within Oda Sakunosuke: he
Odasaku comments always sound sharp. He knows exactly what to say and, perhaps even more amazingly, he knows what /Dazai/ is thinking.
The man has the mellowness of omegas with none of the naivety. That’s one of the many wonders within Oda Sakunosuke: he
makes everything sound simple, yet never downplays anything.
His soul is quiet, seldom troubled, but deep.
That, somehow, soothes some of the pain ever-existing within Dazai, too.
It’s like he knows quietness by osmosis thanks to the man.
And if Odasaku is smiling against
His soul is quiet, seldom troubled, but deep.
That, somehow, soothes some of the pain ever-existing within Dazai, too.
It’s like he knows quietness by osmosis thanks to the man.
And if Odasaku is smiling against
the rim of his 5pm whisky as if he knows a secret that Dazai doesn’t, saying that he /seems/ troubled—
Well, that must be the truth.
“I’m ok,” he still says. He has to.
Admitting that he’s not entirely /happy/ feels like betraying Chuuya.
“Are you sure?”
“Yup. Where’s Ango?”
Well, that must be the truth.
“I’m ok,” he still says. He has to.
Admitting that he’s not entirely /happy/ feels like betraying Chuuya.
“Are you sure?”
“Yup. Where’s Ango?”
Oda glances at the stairs that connect Lupin to the street.
It’s like a slow rise from the quiet bar to the effervescence of Tokyo, from the somber, soft jazz to constant, bombastic noise.
“He’s working. Doesn’t his office close at seven?”
Dazai clicks his tongue.
It’s like a slow rise from the quiet bar to the effervescence of Tokyo, from the somber, soft jazz to constant, bombastic noise.
“He’s working. Doesn’t his office close at seven?”
Dazai clicks his tongue.
It feels /personal/ when Ango leaves them alone to work. Like he doesn’t /care/.
“Ah, right.”
“You’re lucky I was free when you called,” Oda says.
Odasaku is /always/ free when Dazai calls.
“I know.”
“You skipped class again.”
Dazai shrugs, rolling the whisky in his glass.
“Ah, right.”
“You’re lucky I was free when you called,” Oda says.
Odasaku is /always/ free when Dazai calls.
“I know.”
“You skipped class again.”
Dazai shrugs, rolling the whisky in his glass.
“What if I did?”
“I’d ask why you’re here drinking and not at your boyfriend’s coffeeshop.”
Just like that, Dazai’s cocky smile withers. Whatever he’ll say now, he’d just be confirming what Oda already thinks: that he has something in his mind.
See? Odasaku knows what to say
“I’d ask why you’re here drinking and not at your boyfriend’s coffeeshop.”
Just like that, Dazai’s cocky smile withers. Whatever he’ll say now, he’d just be confirming what Oda already thinks: that he has something in his mind.
See? Odasaku knows what to say
Even if Dazai doesn’t /want/ to hear it.
And it brings out things he’d rather not say.
“I tried to help Chuuya and it backfired,” he says.
Odasaku hmms, tilting his head to the side.
“Did you?”
“I commanded someone. Made that vermin spill boiling water on himself.”
And it brings out things he’d rather not say.
“I tried to help Chuuya and it backfired,” he says.
Odasaku hmms, tilting his head to the side.
“Did you?”
“I commanded someone. Made that vermin spill boiling water on himself.”
Odasaku’s eyes widen ever so subtly.
“Any witnesses?” He asks. It’s a /colorless/ question, but it still makes him feel like a criminal.
Dazai shakes his head.
“Nup. Well, Chuuya’s coworker — he’s a friend.”
“That’s good.”
“I’m not /worried/ about the command itself,” Dazai
“Any witnesses?” He asks. It’s a /colorless/ question, but it still makes him feel like a criminal.
Dazai shakes his head.
“Nup. Well, Chuuya’s coworker — he’s a friend.”
“That’s good.”
“I’m not /worried/ about the command itself,” Dazai
clarifies. “It’s Chuuya.”
“He’s mad at you,” Oda says.
“At first he was. And I understand why Chibi’s worried.” He says it before Odasaku can tell him how /stupid/ and wrong he was. “And we’re fine now. But I— I scared him. And I /swear/ I didn’t mean to scare him.”
“He’s mad at you,” Oda says.
“At first he was. And I understand why Chibi’s worried.” He says it before Odasaku can tell him how /stupid/ and wrong he was. “And we’re fine now. But I— I scared him. And I /swear/ I didn’t mean to scare him.”
And, scaring Chuuya, he hurt himself too.
It’s hard to think about /anything/ that’s not what happened with the beta.
He can’t focus on classes, and struggles to show up at the café — the same shop that has become his /safe space/, recently.
He caught Ranpo glaring at him.
It’s hard to think about /anything/ that’s not what happened with the beta.
He can’t focus on classes, and struggles to show up at the café — the same shop that has become his /safe space/, recently.
He caught Ranpo glaring at him.
He sees Chuuya /glancing/ at him, hesitant, waiting, /wondering/ why he’s not opening up.
It’s been a few days since the incident, and the temptation of finding the beta and beating him to a pulp is still /strong/.
And even worse— even worse, Chuuya wants him to talk.
It’s been a few days since the incident, and the temptation of finding the beta and beating him to a pulp is still /strong/.
And even worse— even worse, Chuuya wants him to talk.
Odasaku waits patiently for him to go on, nudging Dazai with a tilt of his head.
The alpha sighs, and takes a sip of his drink.
“I guess he fears I’d command him too.”
“I think he’s just surprised.” Odasaku looks at him — a second, two, eyes burrowing in Dazai’s /heart/.
The alpha sighs, and takes a sip of his drink.
“I guess he fears I’d command him too.”
“I think he’s just surprised.” Odasaku looks at him — a second, two, eyes burrowing in Dazai’s /heart/.
“You don’t normally act like an alpha, Dazai, and I’m not sure you realize how /stark/ the contrasts in your behavior can be.”
He barks a harsh laughter.
“So I’m scary?”
“You’re /interesting/,” Oda amends. “But you can take people by surprise.”
“Chuuya understands me.”
He barks a harsh laughter.
“So I’m scary?”
“You’re /interesting/,” Oda amends. “But you can take people by surprise.”
“Chuuya understands me.”
(Dazai swears it’s not defensive, even though it /sounds/ like it.)
“What I’m asking is, are you letting him /understand/ all of you? Or just what you want him to see?”
Suddenly, the alcohol scrapes Dazai’s windpipe like liquid fire. He coughs, and damns his best friend for
“What I’m asking is, are you letting him /understand/ all of you? Or just what you want him to see?”
Suddenly, the alcohol scrapes Dazai’s windpipe like liquid fire. He coughs, and damns his best friend for
acting so… /best-friendly/.
“Ugh. That’s the other thing; I’m not talkative enough for the Chibikko.”
“Did Chuuya-kun say that?”
Dazai wrinkles his nose.
//Talk to me, Dazai.//
Well, that wasn’t exactly subtle, was it?
“He… implied it.”
“And you don’t want to talk.”
“Ugh. That’s the other thing; I’m not talkative enough for the Chibikko.”
“Did Chuuya-kun say that?”
Dazai wrinkles his nose.
//Talk to me, Dazai.//
Well, that wasn’t exactly subtle, was it?
“He… implied it.”
“And you don’t want to talk.”
“When do I ever?” the alpha replies with a smirk.
He tries to sound convincing, he really does, but it rings like a pathetic attempt to ignore something he /should/ face.
“I’m no relationships expert, but isn’t communication supposed to be important?”
He tries to sound convincing, he really does, but it rings like a pathetic attempt to ignore something he /should/ face.
“I’m no relationships expert, but isn’t communication supposed to be important?”
“You know what’s important, Odasaku? Sex. To avoid talking.”
That is /another/ delicate subject.
And Dazai wonders if Chuuya would be mad that he told Odasaku and Ango about his little problem, sometimes.
He wonders if he maybe shouldn’t have kept it to himself, but—
That is /another/ delicate subject.
And Dazai wonders if Chuuya would be mad that he told Odasaku and Ango about his little problem, sometimes.
He wonders if he maybe shouldn’t have kept it to himself, but—
“Well, that seems out of question, so you’ll have to find another trick,” Oda says.
/Here/, see?
Odasaku only speaks in favor of Chuuya, he’s the one that grounds Dazai.
With that, the alpha convinces himself once again that there’s nothing he shouldn’t tell his friends.
/Here/, see?
Odasaku only speaks in favor of Chuuya, he’s the one that grounds Dazai.
With that, the alpha convinces himself once again that there’s nothing he shouldn’t tell his friends.
No secret is too secret. Not even /someone else’s/ secret.
He scoffs.
“Yeah. And it’s not a problem at all, I just— I just don’t know how to /deviate/ the conversation.”
“Maybe it’s a sign.” Odasaku opens in a smirk. Whoever said the man doesn’t know how to make fun of his
He scoffs.
“Yeah. And it’s not a problem at all, I just— I just don’t know how to /deviate/ the conversation.”
“Maybe it’s a sign.” Odasaku opens in a smirk. Whoever said the man doesn’t know how to make fun of his
friends didn’t know Oda Sakunosuke enough. “That you should open up.”
“Ha. Sure. Or maybe you could help me find a solution.”
“Trust him.”
“I do,” Dazai says — it’s the truth.
“I mean, trust him with /all/ of you.” The omega smiles. “Trust him like you trust us.”
“Ha. Sure. Or maybe you could help me find a solution.”
“Trust him.”
“I do,” Dazai says — it’s the truth.
“I mean, trust him with /all/ of you.” The omega smiles. “Trust him like you trust us.”
Odasaku makes it sound so /simple/. He makes it sound easy.
And trust doesn’t come easy to Dazai, yet… yet he does trust Chuuya.
It’s /himself/ he doesn’t trust.
Dazai gnaws at the inside of his cheek, unsure.
He doesn’t want to risk it, and doesn’t want to /discover/ if
And trust doesn’t come easy to Dazai, yet… yet he does trust Chuuya.
It’s /himself/ he doesn’t trust.
Dazai gnaws at the inside of his cheek, unsure.
He doesn’t want to risk it, and doesn’t want to /discover/ if
Chuuya will be alright with his edges.
And he’s scared to learn things about himself in the process. He knows that this violent side, this taste for blood, comes from Mori.
It has to.
(What if it comes from his parents, too? The only thing he knows about them drips crimson,
And he’s scared to learn things about himself in the process. He knows that this violent side, this taste for blood, comes from Mori.
It has to.
(What if it comes from his parents, too? The only thing he knows about them drips crimson,
and reeks of death.)
Mori is the real bad person here. Mori is the one that taught Dazai that the end justifies the mean, always.
/ Our parents live inside us. /
Maybe, Dazai supposes, that’s why he feels nothing, why he feels like he bloomed from the pitch-black nothingness.
Mori is the real bad person here. Mori is the one that taught Dazai that the end justifies the mean, always.
/ Our parents live inside us. /
Maybe, Dazai supposes, that’s why he feels nothing, why he feels like he bloomed from the pitch-black nothingness.
doesn’t know his parents, not truly, therefore doesn’t know himself.
They refused to know him. Maybe that’s why he refuses to know himself.
“Dazai…?”
Here it comes. The alpha holds his breath, bracing for the question.
“Hm.”
“Does Chuuya-kun know about your parents?”
They refused to know him. Maybe that’s why he refuses to know himself.
“Dazai…?”
Here it comes. The alpha holds his breath, bracing for the question.
“Hm.”
“Does Chuuya-kun know about your parents?”
That’s a good question. What should Chuuya know, exactly? What does Dazai care to remember?
He was six. First year of elementary school.
He found them.
He went on with his day until the stench became unbearable. Mori Ōgai, the surgeon, found him sitting outside his house,
He was six. First year of elementary school.
He found them.
He went on with his day until the stench became unbearable. Mori Ōgai, the surgeon, found him sitting outside his house,
waiting for someone to cook dinner.
So, exactly, what should Chuuya know?
What can he tell him, if his memory is spotty at best and he doesn’t /want/ to think about it?
How do you open up, when you’re holding in so much?
“No,” Dazai says, finally. “I don’t want to tell him.”
So, exactly, what should Chuuya know?
What can he tell him, if his memory is spotty at best and he doesn’t /want/ to think about it?
How do you open up, when you’re holding in so much?
“No,” Dazai says, finally. “I don’t want to tell him.”
Odasaku nods, and takes a long sip from his drink.
It allows Dazai to steady his breath, to calm his sluggish heart that refuses to beat.
“Is that why you don’t want to talk to him?”
“/Part of/,” he allows.
“Then you should at least be honest and tell him you’re not ready.”
It allows Dazai to steady his breath, to calm his sluggish heart that refuses to beat.
“Is that why you don’t want to talk to him?”
“/Part of/,” he allows.
“Then you should at least be honest and tell him you’re not ready.”
“I don’t want to lose him.” He almost chokes on his own spit. “You don’t understand. Chuuya is the only person I could ever love.”
He never wanted to keep someone close quite so /desperately/ before.
He never had something as precious as this little, frail, cozy warmth burning
He never wanted to keep someone close quite so /desperately/ before.
He never had something as precious as this little, frail, cozy warmth burning
inside his chest.
It’s something /new/, and it’s terrifying.
The only thing he knows is that he’ll protect this little warmth. He might die with it, otherwise.
Odasaku looks at him, and something flashes across his face. It looks like /pity/, a mixture of sadness and relief.
It’s something /new/, and it’s terrifying.
The only thing he knows is that he’ll protect this little warmth. He might die with it, otherwise.
Odasaku looks at him, and something flashes across his face. It looks like /pity/, a mixture of sadness and relief.
“You won’t lose him, Dazai.”
“But—“
“I /promise/. Just go home now, and tell him how you feel.”
Dazai’s shoulders sag a little.
“I can’t,” he says. “As I said, I scared him once. I don’t particularly look forward to doing that again.”
When Odasaku sighs, it sounds a little
“But—“
“I /promise/. Just go home now, and tell him how you feel.”
Dazai’s shoulders sag a little.
“I can’t,” he says. “As I said, I scared him once. I don’t particularly look forward to doing that again.”
When Odasaku sighs, it sounds a little
/exhausted/. He throws his head back, and stretches his arms, and somehow he seems to move in rhythm with the slow, mellow jazz music of the bar.
“That’s because he doesn’t /understand/. Let Chuuya-kun understand you.” He cocks his head to the side, warm eyes looking at Dazai.
“That’s because he doesn’t /understand/. Let Chuuya-kun understand you.” He cocks his head to the side, warm eyes looking at Dazai.
Odasaku /sees/ him, he always does. “Even the things that /scare/ you.”
Dazai hesitates.
“It doesn’t sound like a solid plan, to be honest,” he mumbles.
Odasaku chuckles softly.
“I always tell the kids to talk about their nightmares to exorcise them. Being together helps.”
Dazai hesitates.
“It doesn’t sound like a solid plan, to be honest,” he mumbles.
Odasaku chuckles softly.
“I always tell the kids to talk about their nightmares to exorcise them. Being together helps.”
Dazai scrunches his nose, chugging the rest of his drink.
“You’re treating me like a kid?”
“If you act like one.”
Ah, he hates it when Odasaku’s right. Which means, all the time.
“Well, I’m going home,” he says. The whisky intoxicates him, fills his head. “Wish me luck.”
“You’re treating me like a kid?”
“If you act like one.”
Ah, he hates it when Odasaku’s right. Which means, all the time.
“Well, I’m going home,” he says. The whisky intoxicates him, fills his head. “Wish me luck.”
And Oda /does/ wish him luck — an amused smile dancing on his lips and raising a glass to his friend.
Dazai just doesn’t /see/ it.
Once home, he barely registers the front door that slams shut behind him.
He feels high, feverish. His blood is rushing in his ears, his
Dazai just doesn’t /see/ it.
Once home, he barely registers the front door that slams shut behind him.
He feels high, feverish. His blood is rushing in his ears, his
temples are /pulsating/, and he’s pretty sure he might pass out at Chuuya’s feet, but—
But he never felt so alive.
He missed his stop twice on the train, and ran all the way from the station to his front door.
He tripped on his own feet up the stairs, and almost bumped into
But he never felt so alive.
He missed his stop twice on the train, and ran all the way from the station to his front door.
He tripped on his own feet up the stairs, and almost bumped into
the granny from the first floor. She glared at him, mumbling something Dazai didn’t understand — she hates him anyway.
She hates him as much as she loves Chuuya, all because the omega once brought her some leftover cake.
But he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop — not while he
She hates him as much as she loves Chuuya, all because the omega once brought her some leftover cake.
But he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop — not while he
fumbles with the keys, not as he slips out of his shoes, not as he rushes down the hallway.
His heart beats in his throat, closed by a tangle of things he kept inside for the past week. For much longer, even.
He promised Odasaku.
He /wants/ to be the man Chuuya deserves.
His heart beats in his throat, closed by a tangle of things he kept inside for the past week. For much longer, even.
He promised Odasaku.
He /wants/ to be the man Chuuya deserves.
Holding his breath, Dazai breaks into Chuuya’s room without knocking before he can even /think/ about balking.
The familiar mix of vanilla, caramelized apple and crisp snow envelops the alpha before he enters— he can /sense/ Chuuya before he sees him.
A scent that is red and
The familiar mix of vanilla, caramelized apple and crisp snow envelops the alpha before he enters— he can /sense/ Chuuya before he sees him.
A scent that is red and
white, with a droplet of blood.
And with that scent making his nostrils flare, the sense of urgency /soars/ in Dazai.
He finds the omega sprawled on the bed, wearing only an oversized t-shirt he stole from the alpha a few days prior, ankles crossed and a book in his hands.
And with that scent making his nostrils flare, the sense of urgency /soars/ in Dazai.
He finds the omega sprawled on the bed, wearing only an oversized t-shirt he stole from the alpha a few days prior, ankles crossed and a book in his hands.
It’s from a French contemporary poet, the book.
Dazai recognizes the cover at a glance, and brushes away the information.
He never cared for poetry and always preferred the Russians, anyway.
Despite having moved in a while ago, Chuuya still has to find the right curtains for
Dazai recognizes the cover at a glance, and brushes away the information.
He never cared for poetry and always preferred the Russians, anyway.
Despite having moved in a while ago, Chuuya still has to find the right curtains for
his nest. He’s in plain view — relaxed, beautiful, /intimate/.
Chuuya glances up when Dazai swings the door open, eyes lighting up.
“Da—“
“I love you.”
It rolls out of his lips before Chuuya can even start his sentence. The omega’s eyes widen oh so slightly.
Chuuya glances up when Dazai swings the door open, eyes lighting up.
“Da—“
“I love you.”
It rolls out of his lips before Chuuya can even start his sentence. The omega’s eyes widen oh so slightly.
“I /love/ you,” Dazai repeats, louder, hoping he can put enough emphasis on it with sheer words alone.
Words escape him, lately. They trick him.
Saying ‘I love you’ to Chuuya, though— that is /easy/. He says it with his full lungs.
Immediately, Chuuya straightens up.
Words escape him, lately. They trick him.
Saying ‘I love you’ to Chuuya, though— that is /easy/. He says it with his full lungs.
Immediately, Chuuya straightens up.
Normally, he’d say ‘I love you too’ and they’d go about their day, happy and reassured in their relationship.
This time, though, the omega seems to sense the difference — the urgency.
He lowers the book, gaze glued to Dazai as if he grew a second head.
“Did something happen?”
This time, though, the omega seems to sense the difference — the urgency.
He lowers the book, gaze glued to Dazai as if he grew a second head.
“Did something happen?”
Dazai pushes into the room.
“No.”
Chuuya’s eyebrows jump up.
“Are you drunk?”
“No, Chibi.” His steps are steady, the way they can only be when he has /a purpose/.
“You /do/ smell like that bar of yours, though.”
“/Well/, I was at Lupin with a friend,” he says,
“No.”
Chuuya’s eyebrows jump up.
“Are you drunk?”
“No, Chibi.” His steps are steady, the way they can only be when he has /a purpose/.
“You /do/ smell like that bar of yours, though.”
“/Well/, I was at Lupin with a friend,” he says,
breathless. “But you asked me to talk, remember? To open up.”
“I did, but—“
“I’m here to talk.”
Surprise is a sour note on Chuuya’s normally sweet scent; it reminds him of lime, of mint. It’s closer to an alpha’s scent, as if the omega is putting up a strong, protective front.
“I did, but—“
“I’m here to talk.”
Surprise is a sour note on Chuuya’s normally sweet scent; it reminds him of lime, of mint. It’s closer to an alpha’s scent, as if the omega is putting up a strong, protective front.
“/Oh/,” Chuuya says softly, warmth latched in his exhale. His shoulders hunch. “Ok.”
For the first time since he left Lupin, it dawns on Dazai that Chuuya might have other plans. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“If you’ve time,” he adds hesitantly.
For the first time since he left Lupin, it dawns on Dazai that Chuuya might have other plans. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“If you’ve time,” he adds hesitantly.
Chuuya’s expression /softens/. His eyes narrow, his lips curl up, and it’s sweet and affectionate and /amused/. That gentle amusement that is soft like velvet.
“Of course,” Chuuya says. Even his voice is lower than normal, all round edges. “You want to get closer?”
“Of course,” Chuuya says. Even his voice is lower than normal, all round edges. “You want to get closer?”
Ah, right; he’s still a few steps away from the bed.
He’s standing, rigid, /waiting/.
He must look like an idiot. He nods stiffly, finally stepping closer.
“Yeah. Ok. I have two things you need to hear.”
“Sure,” Chuuya says, as curiosity flashes across his face. “Shoot.”
He’s standing, rigid, /waiting/.
He must look like an idiot. He nods stiffly, finally stepping closer.
“Yeah. Ok. I have two things you need to hear.”
“Sure,” Chuuya says, as curiosity flashes across his face. “Shoot.”
Dazai sits on the bed, and reaches for Chuuya’s fingers.
They twitch slightly in his grip before they curl around Dazai’s hand, squeezing right back.
He knows the redhead is currently deep in his head, shuffling through all the worst possibilities, and he just hopes—
They twitch slightly in his grip before they curl around Dazai’s hand, squeezing right back.
He knows the redhead is currently deep in his head, shuffling through all the worst possibilities, and he just hopes—
He just /wishes/ Chuuya will take him as he is.
As the man he can be in power. As the grungy attempt to a human he wants to become.
So he clutches Chuuya’s hand, and smiles, and says:
“The first thing is, I might not be ready to talk about my past. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
As the man he can be in power. As the grungy attempt to a human he wants to become.
So he clutches Chuuya’s hand, and smiles, and says:
“The first thing is, I might not be ready to talk about my past. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Chuuya frowns, eyebrows so furrowed that they almost touch above the root of his nose.
Dazai knows he’s about to say that he doesn’t /have/ to be sorry, and doesn’t have to explain himself.
He shows his open palm to the redhead to stop him right as he starts to speak.
Dazai knows he’s about to say that he doesn’t /have/ to be sorry, and doesn’t have to explain himself.
He shows his open palm to the redhead to stop him right as he starts to speak.
“It’s o—”
“No, please; let me finish. I’m not ready just yet, but I will be. I— I’ll try.” He takes a deep, staggering breath. “I’m making a honest effort.”
Chuuya nods. “I know.”
“I’m not trying to keep you out. I just need time.”
“It’s fine.”
“Consider this a promise, ok?”
“No, please; let me finish. I’m not ready just yet, but I will be. I— I’ll try.” He takes a deep, staggering breath. “I’m making a honest effort.”
Chuuya nods. “I know.”
“I’m not trying to keep you out. I just need time.”
“It’s fine.”
“Consider this a promise, ok?”
Chuuya opens in a tiny smile. “Yes, alright.”
“In the meantime, I might scare you again. I’ll hurt you, and I will fuck up, and you are free to leave me for that, but I love you.”
He takes a deep breath, his voice faltering as he tries to follow a coherent string of thoughts.
“In the meantime, I might scare you again. I’ll hurt you, and I will fuck up, and you are free to leave me for that, but I love you.”
He takes a deep breath, his voice faltering as he tries to follow a coherent string of thoughts.
Dazai might have said those three, silly, /heavy/ words more times tonight than he did in a lifetime, but he /means/ them every single time.
And it’s worth it because, every time he repeats it, some of the awkwardness left by the beta incident seems to thaw away from Chuuya.
And it’s worth it because, every time he repeats it, some of the awkwardness left by the beta incident seems to thaw away from Chuuya.
The omega squeezes his hand, shifting closer to where Dazai is sitting.
“‘Love you, too,” he says. “I’m sorry, I probably overreacted. I didn’t mean to make you feel this /bad/.”
Dazai scowls.
“But I scared you.”
“And I’ll get over it. You meant well.”
…He did mean
“‘Love you, too,” he says. “I’m sorry, I probably overreacted. I didn’t mean to make you feel this /bad/.”
Dazai scowls.
“But I scared you.”
“And I’ll get over it. You meant well.”
…He did mean
well, didn’t he? Sometimes, he forgets.
He guesses they’re not good at treading lightly, he and Chuuya.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” Chuuya says. It’s entirely honest, but it doesn’t come as a surprise; the Chibi always wears his heart on his sleeve.
Dazai envies him that.
He guesses they’re not good at treading lightly, he and Chuuya.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” Chuuya says. It’s entirely honest, but it doesn’t come as a surprise; the Chibi always wears his heart on his sleeve.
Dazai envies him that.
“I loathe my past, Chuuya. But you’re the only future I want.”
Chuuya /stiffens/.
His scent shifts.
“I…” he starts, lips parted in an ‘o’ of surprise, then gives up.
“This is the second thing I wanted to tell you, Chibi.” Dazai only realizes he’s smiling because his
Chuuya /stiffens/.
His scent shifts.
“I…” he starts, lips parted in an ‘o’ of surprise, then gives up.
“This is the second thing I wanted to tell you, Chibi.” Dazai only realizes he’s smiling because his
cheeks feel funny. They tingle. It’s an odd, warm feeling; a surprisingly nice one.
The alpha clears his voice.
“We haven’t known each other for very long /at all/, but— ever since the day we met, for some reason, you made me want to live on.”
The alpha clears his voice.
“We haven’t known each other for very long /at all/, but— ever since the day we met, for some reason, you made me want to live on.”
In silence, Chuuya stares at him.
“Do you mean it?” he asks, with a thin voice.
“One hundred percent.”
The omega doesn’t know why Dazai flirts with death quite so often.
Hell, not even /Odasaku/ knows that exactly, and there’s nothing the man doesn’t know about Dazai.
“Do you mean it?” he asks, with a thin voice.
“One hundred percent.”
The omega doesn’t know why Dazai flirts with death quite so often.
Hell, not even /Odasaku/ knows that exactly, and there’s nothing the man doesn’t know about Dazai.
TW // graphic description of suicide, death, trauma 📍
I’ll signal the end of the description, but totally feel free to skip it!
Dazai knows Chuuya will never understand the reason until he learns about his parents, and how they left him behind.
How trauma scathed his young
I’ll signal the end of the description, but totally feel free to skip it!
Dazai knows Chuuya will never understand the reason until he learns about his parents, and how they left him behind.
How trauma scathed his young
mind.
How he learned the way his mother’s body dangled from the ceiling before he learned how her lips curled when she smiled.
(She never smiled)
What Chuuya knows is that living used to be a chore for the alpha.
But his presence in Dazai’s life also changed things.
// 📍
How he learned the way his mother’s body dangled from the ceiling before he learned how her lips curled when she smiled.
(She never smiled)
What Chuuya knows is that living used to be a chore for the alpha.
But his presence in Dazai’s life also changed things.
// 📍
Then, as if the realization slowly sank in him, the redhead beams.
“I’m glad,” he says. “You deserve to live a happy life, ‘Samu.”
Dazai’s grin is /sheepish/.
“You’re the first person to tell me that.”
// You no idea how much I needed to hear it. //
“I’m glad,” he says. “You deserve to live a happy life, ‘Samu.”
Dazai’s grin is /sheepish/.
“You’re the first person to tell me that.”
// You no idea how much I needed to hear it. //
“And I will tell you every day. You‘ll grow sick of it.”
“I could never grow sick of it,” Dazai says, lips curled downwards, face fully serious. “But I was afraid— after what happened, I was afraid you would grow /sick/ of /me/.”
If in Dazai’s perfect plan he was the one
“I could never grow sick of it,” Dazai says, lips curled downwards, face fully serious. “But I was afraid— after what happened, I was afraid you would grow /sick/ of /me/.”
If in Dazai’s perfect plan he was the one
kissing Chuuya and holding him in his arms, in reality it’s the redhead who slips his hand out of Dazai’s grip and lounges forward.
He cups the alpha’s cheeks and drags him against his mouth.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Chuuya still has the time to murmur before their lips collide.
He cups the alpha’s cheeks and drags him against his mouth.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Chuuya still has the time to murmur before their lips collide.
Dazai shifts on the bed, neck craning and limbs stretching as he slips closer to Chuuya.
He pulls away only to find a more comfortable position, climbing onto the mattress and lacing his arms around Chuuya and dragging him against his chest.
He never breaks the kiss.
He pulls away only to find a more comfortable position, climbing onto the mattress and lacing his arms around Chuuya and dragging him against his chest.
He never breaks the kiss.
Chuuya doesn’t /allow/ him to, and Dazai discovers that he’d rather drown than move away from the safe shelter of his boyfriend’s touch.
He’s not sure he remembers how to /breathe/ if not through Chuuya’s lungs, through his lips.
His hand scampers through Chuuya’s hair,
He’s not sure he remembers how to /breathe/ if not through Chuuya’s lungs, through his lips.
His hand scampers through Chuuya’s hair,
eager, as his jaw relaxes to deepen the kiss. The other hand covers the center of Chuuya’s back, feeling the strong muscles and soft flesh through the cotton.
He guides Chuuya against the mattress, his stomach churning whenever the omega /arches/ to push their bodies together.
He guides Chuuya against the mattress, his stomach churning whenever the omega /arches/ to push their bodies together.
The omega’s bare knees open to let Dazai find a comfortable position in between his legs, fully trusting he won’t ask for something Chuuya can’t give.
Dazai might cry in front of such a display of faith, if he weren’t so focused on the sudden tightness of his slacks.
Chuuya
Dazai might cry in front of such a display of faith, if he weren’t so focused on the sudden tightness of his slacks.
Chuuya
has done so much for him.
It’s time he does something for Chuuya, too.
“I can’t believe my luck,” he murmurs into the kiss, breathy.
“For what?”
“Finding you.”
Chuuya snorts against Dazai’s lips. “It’s not like you had competition, yeah? With me being a sham and all.”
It’s time he does something for Chuuya, too.
“I can’t believe my luck,” he murmurs into the kiss, breathy.
“For what?”
“Finding you.”
Chuuya snorts against Dazai’s lips. “It’s not like you had competition, yeah? With me being a sham and all.”
Slowly, Dazai raises a hand to cover the redhead’s cheek. It’s the most resolute Chuuya’s ever seen him.
“Chuuya. Baby. You are /everything/.”
For the longest moment, Chuuya gapes.
Then, his bottom lip trembles.
“Hah, whatever.”
“Seriously. You’re perfect.”
“Chuuya. Baby. You are /everything/.”
For the longest moment, Chuuya gapes.
Then, his bottom lip trembles.
“Hah, whatever.”
“Seriously. You’re perfect.”
A blush spreads across the omega’s cheeks. He gnaws at his bottom lip, embarrassed.
It’s glittery with saliva, and bright red, and Dazai leans forward to catch it between his teeth.
He sucks at it, nibbling at the tender flesh, relishing in how Chuuya /melts/ under his hands
It’s glittery with saliva, and bright red, and Dazai leans forward to catch it between his teeth.
He sucks at it, nibbling at the tender flesh, relishing in how Chuuya /melts/ under his hands
and mouth.
He whispers it a few more times — /you’re perfect/, again and again — against Chuuya’s lips, in a husky voice that makes them both shiver.
He spaces out the reassuring words with bruising kisses, affectionate whispers interspersed with wandering hands. Dazai feels
He whispers it a few more times — /you’re perfect/, again and again — against Chuuya’s lips, in a husky voice that makes them both shiver.
He spaces out the reassuring words with bruising kisses, affectionate whispers interspersed with wandering hands. Dazai feels
pried open, naked.
And it’s /then/ that an idea starts welling up in his mind.
When the alpha pulls back, breath ghosting over the other’s face, Chuuya’s eyes shine.
“Hey, Chibi?”
Chuuya’s response is drowsy. “Hm?”
“Would you be ok with me showing how perfect you are?”
And it’s /then/ that an idea starts welling up in his mind.
When the alpha pulls back, breath ghosting over the other’s face, Chuuya’s eyes shine.
“Hey, Chibi?”
Chuuya’s response is drowsy. “Hm?”
“Would you be ok with me showing how perfect you are?”
Chuuya /shivers/. It’s not the good kind of shiver, though, nothing like the expectation-filled chills from before. His knees close against the alpha’s hips.
The redhead goes stiff, and the brunet sees fear bloom on his face.
“Well, I don’t know—,” he starts, and
The redhead goes stiff, and the brunet sees fear bloom on his face.
“Well, I don’t know—,” he starts, and
then stops.
Dazai lowers on Chuuya and kisses his eyelashes.
“What I meant is, I don’t expect you to do anything. I want to make you feel good.” He smiles at Chuuya’s puzzled expression. “Would you let me touch you?”
“Touch /me/?”
He says it like it’s a foreign language.
Dazai lowers on Chuuya and kisses his eyelashes.
“What I meant is, I don’t expect you to do anything. I want to make you feel good.” He smiles at Chuuya’s puzzled expression. “Would you let me touch you?”
“Touch /me/?”
He says it like it’s a foreign language.
Like Dazai would have no /reason/ to pleasure him without anything in return.
Dazai nods, his thumb skimming across Chuuya’s cheekbone.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he murmurs. The pads of his fingers brush over Chuuya’s lips, his chin, his windpipe. He can feel the pulse
Dazai nods, his thumb skimming across Chuuya’s cheekbone.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he murmurs. The pads of his fingers brush over Chuuya’s lips, his chin, his windpipe. He can feel the pulse
point fluttering under his touch. “Would you be ok with that?”
“You don’t /have/ to—“
“I want to. Only if you’re comfortable.”
“Well, I don’t /mind/.” Chuuya scrunches his nose. “But what about you?”
Dazai flashes him a cocky grin.
“/You/ don’t worry about that, love.”
“You don’t /have/ to—“
“I want to. Only if you’re comfortable.”
“Well, I don’t /mind/.” Chuuya scrunches his nose. “But what about you?”
Dazai flashes him a cocky grin.
“/You/ don’t worry about that, love.”
Chuuya shivers, but doesn’t reply immediately.
He relaxes a little — that imperceptible shift in his muscles that Dazai has /learned/ to recognize.
His hand opens over the sheets, smoothing the crinkles of the fabric.
The fact that he’s not clenching his fists is already a
He relaxes a little — that imperceptible shift in his muscles that Dazai has /learned/ to recognize.
His hand opens over the sheets, smoothing the crinkles of the fabric.
The fact that he’s not clenching his fists is already a
good sign, or so Dazai wants to believe.
“I promise I won’t do anything to hurt you,” the alpha murmurs, landing a kiss on Chuuya’s collarbone. “But if I /do/, tell me, and I’ll stop.”
“Fine,” Chuuya breathes out. “Ok.”
He doesn’t sound convinced, but it’s not quite a
“I promise I won’t do anything to hurt you,” the alpha murmurs, landing a kiss on Chuuya’s collarbone. “But if I /do/, tell me, and I’ll stop.”
“Fine,” Chuuya breathes out. “Ok.”
He doesn’t sound convinced, but it’s not quite a
Rejection: it’s more the exasperated tone of someone who’s sure Dazai will regret it.
That he’ll get impatient, and bored, as if having his beautiful partner moaning and wrangling under him could ever be anything but /perfect/.
Dazai offers him a tiny, encouraging smile.
That he’ll get impatient, and bored, as if having his beautiful partner moaning and wrangling under him could ever be anything but /perfect/.
Dazai offers him a tiny, encouraging smile.
“Ok,” he repeats.
Then, moves up again. He leans in and kisses Chuuya on the mouth — his lips /brush/ against the redhead’s, hesitant at first, growing hungry as he yields under Chuuya’s heated response.
He can feel Chuuya melt under his mouth, under his tongue and teeth, some
Then, moves up again. He leans in and kisses Chuuya on the mouth — his lips /brush/ against the redhead’s, hesitant at first, growing hungry as he yields under Chuuya’s heated response.
He can feel Chuuya melt under his mouth, under his tongue and teeth, some
of the tension thawing away as Dazai’s hands palm his stomach and slowly start pulling up the shirt.
Every time he rolls up some fabric, he runs his fingertips over the warm flesh. It’s a featherlight, unhurried discovery.
He moves above the omega slowly, rolling his hips and
Every time he rolls up some fabric, he runs his fingertips over the warm flesh. It’s a featherlight, unhurried discovery.
He moves above the omega slowly, rolling his hips and
pressing his body over Chuuya’s, letting expectation /build/ with every uncovered inch.
He’s still fully clothed, yet needs to feel skin, to touch without the barrier of clothes.
Very, very basically, he wants to suck Chuuya off. He wants to devour him, to make him /see/ how
He’s still fully clothed, yet needs to feel skin, to touch without the barrier of clothes.
Very, very basically, he wants to suck Chuuya off. He wants to devour him, to make him /see/ how
much pleasure can a skillful mouth grant. He wants to know that, when and if Chuuya will sob and moan and /beg/, it’ll be only for /pleasure/.
Dazai suspects nobody ever taught him that.
Nobody ever considered the possibility of treating Chuuya like a person, not like his
Dazai suspects nobody ever taught him that.
Nobody ever considered the possibility of treating Chuuya like a person, not like his
second gender.
All the omega knows is what he /can’t/ do, what he can’t take.
And Dazai— it may be naïve, it might be selfish, but he wants to be the one to show Chuuya /everything/.
All those possibilities.
And maybe—
Maybe he can be his /first/, in a way.
All the omega knows is what he /can’t/ do, what he can’t take.
And Dazai— it may be naïve, it might be selfish, but he wants to be the one to show Chuuya /everything/.
All those possibilities.
And maybe—
Maybe he can be his /first/, in a way.
But he also doesn’t want to /scare/ the redhead by moving /too/ fast.
“I want you,” he murmurs against Chuuya’s mouth — low and /dark/ and endearing, settling himself between Chuuya’s spread legs. “I have wanted to suck you off for /months/, now.”
“I want you,” he murmurs against Chuuya’s mouth — low and /dark/ and endearing, settling himself between Chuuya’s spread legs. “I have wanted to suck you off for /months/, now.”
The first thing that answers him is a muffled gasp.
“Are you serious?” Chuuya asks.
It’s uncharacteristic for alphas to be anything but self-serving. Most won’t even consider asking their sex partners what they /like/.
That’s biology, they say. Giving is not in their DNA.
“Are you serious?” Chuuya asks.
It’s uncharacteristic for alphas to be anything but self-serving. Most won’t even consider asking their sex partners what they /like/.
That’s biology, they say. Giving is not in their DNA.
Dazai suspects it has nothing to do with nature and everything with pride and upbringing, but the truth is that alphas fucking omegas and betas is seen as more satisfying for both parties.
It’s the way it’s /done/, like there’s a how-to of sex, a one-size-fits-all.
It’s the way it’s /done/, like there’s a how-to of sex, a one-size-fits-all.
And, well—
It’s bullshit.
When Dazai tilts his head, looking for Chuuya’s eyes, he finds a mixture of /awe/ and surprise on the redhead’s face.
“Chick-emoji level of seriousness,” Dazai promises, mapping Chuuya’s naked stomach with featherlight touches.
It’s bullshit.
When Dazai tilts his head, looking for Chuuya’s eyes, he finds a mixture of /awe/ and surprise on the redhead’s face.
“Chick-emoji level of seriousness,” Dazai promises, mapping Chuuya’s naked stomach with featherlight touches.
Chuuya rolls his eyes, head plopping back on the pillow.
He covers his eyes with the back of his hand, but Dazai sees that he’s /smiling/.
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Yeah. I’m the best.”
📍 TW // NSFW 📍
Tags for the smut in the next tweet. Minors please dni 🙈
He covers his eyes with the back of his hand, but Dazai sees that he’s /smiling/.
“I can’t believe you just said that.”
“Yeah. I’m the best.”
📍 TW // NSFW 📍
Tags for the smut in the next tweet. Minors please dni 🙈
TAGS // blow job, rimming, non-penetrative sex, shower sex
Chuuya’s — no doubt snarky — reply gets drowned in a moan as Dazai’s tongue traces wet patterns down, teeth grazing the skin of his hip-dips.
He leaves a thousand motifs scrawled over Chuuya’s chest and flat stomach.
Chuuya’s — no doubt snarky — reply gets drowned in a moan as Dazai’s tongue traces wet patterns down, teeth grazing the skin of his hip-dips.
He leaves a thousand motifs scrawled over Chuuya’s chest and flat stomach.
For the briefest of moments, the alpha catches a pink nipple in between his teeth.
The sensitive, turgid skin comes alive to the touch.
Something in his stomach /roars/ when Chuuya curves his shoulders in response, yelping and curling under the bites and sucking.
The sensitive, turgid skin comes alive to the touch.
Something in his stomach /roars/ when Chuuya curves his shoulders in response, yelping and curling under the bites and sucking.
With his long hair sprawled on the pillow and around his head like a halo of fire, with his toned legs and long fingers, Chuuya seems made to be worshipped.
He’s responsive, vocal, /beautiful/.
He’s /perfect/.
The omega is the only one who can’t see it.
He’s responsive, vocal, /beautiful/.
He’s /perfect/.
The omega is the only one who can’t see it.
In silence, Dazai promises to himself he’ll change things starting today.
When he’s satisfied with the nipple, leaving a shiny trail of spit and deliciously reddened and abused skin, the alpha moves down.
He kisses Chuuya’s navel, and the graceful arc of his hipbone.
When he’s satisfied with the nipple, leaving a shiny trail of spit and deliciously reddened and abused skin, the alpha moves down.
He kisses Chuuya’s navel, and the graceful arc of his hipbone.
He skims down to suck a love bite on the pale expanse of the omega’s inner thigh, nipping at the untouched skin until it’s red and purple and congested.
His pants are growing tight, /tighter/.
It doesn’t help that Chuuya is panting under the ministration, every sigh growing
His pants are growing tight, /tighter/.
It doesn’t help that Chuuya is panting under the ministration, every sigh growing
closer to a /purr/ as Dazai soothes the bite with his tongue.
However, he /does/ notice one thing: the lower he gets, the more rigid Chuuya’s body grows.
Once or twice, he even twitched in a way that was everything but /positive/.
Dazai moved away every time, slowing down,
However, he /does/ notice one thing: the lower he gets, the more rigid Chuuya’s body grows.
Once or twice, he even twitched in a way that was everything but /positive/.
Dazai moved away every time, slowing down,
bites turning into kisses, but it still /burned/.
No, it didn’t escape the alpha how Chuuya sometimes retracted and used his legs as if to protect himself, knees almost snapping as Dazai trails kisses down his body and closer to his crotch.
No, it didn’t escape the alpha how Chuuya sometimes retracted and used his legs as if to protect himself, knees almost snapping as Dazai trails kisses down his body and closer to his crotch.
It’s entirely /irrational/, he knows it is.
Still, he can sense the minty, icy point of anxiety lingering in Chuuya’s otherwise swathing scent.
And peppering the redhead with kisses, making sure he relaxes— it’s like dealing with /two/ opposites people at the same time.
Still, he can sense the minty, icy point of anxiety lingering in Chuuya’s otherwise swathing scent.
And peppering the redhead with kisses, making sure he relaxes— it’s like dealing with /two/ opposites people at the same time.
Chuuya’s eyes veiled with lust, his noises, are begging him to go on.
Part of his body, though, is daring Dazai to make one wrong move.
By the time Dazai’s mouth hovers a breath away over Chuuya’s underwear, his cock visibly hard through the fabric, the redhead is /rigid/.
Part of his body, though, is daring Dazai to make one wrong move.
By the time Dazai’s mouth hovers a breath away over Chuuya’s underwear, his cock visibly hard through the fabric, the redhead is /rigid/.
He’s /scared/.
It’s a mechanic memory engraved in his body, a rejection born form anxiety.
A wound festered because of all those alphas who told him they wanted /nothing/, and ended up hurting him.
It nicks at Dazai’s heart to see his boyfriend so /alert/.
It’s a mechanic memory engraved in his body, a rejection born form anxiety.
A wound festered because of all those alphas who told him they wanted /nothing/, and ended up hurting him.
It nicks at Dazai’s heart to see his boyfriend so /alert/.
Chuuya’s thighs press against Dazai’s ears the moment the alpha so much as /tries/ to lower himself to tease the omega through the underwear.
“‘Samu…” Chuuya murmurs, craning his neck to /search/ for him.
//This won’t do//, Dazai finds himself thinking.
“‘Samu…” Chuuya murmurs, craning his neck to /search/ for him.
//This won’t do//, Dazai finds himself thinking.
On one thing Chuuya certainly wasn’t lying: it /is/ a little frustrating, fighting his way like this. It’s hurtful, of course.
But he can only imagine how difficult it must be for /Chuuya/.
And he is grateful for the trust and vulnerability Chuuya’s showing him, he really is.
But he can only imagine how difficult it must be for /Chuuya/.
And he is grateful for the trust and vulnerability Chuuya’s showing him, he really is.
“Chuuya,” he croons, trying to channel all that adoration in the name. It comes right out of his chest — a single, rumbling note resonating in the bedroom. “Can you relax for me, baby?”
It’s /not/ an alpha command, especially after what they went through, but it’s still firm.
It’s /not/ an alpha command, especially after what they went through, but it’s still firm.
He’s sure Chuuya doesn’t /dislike/ the sound — the fondant sensation of an alpha crooning for him, the jolts of warmth the sound brings to an omega’s body.
“I’m trying,” Chuuya says.
His voice is /thin/, almost reaching him from far away. Dazai lifts his head a little to look
“I’m trying,” Chuuya says.
His voice is /thin/, almost reaching him from far away. Dazai lifts his head a little to look
at the redhead — and because having his head caught between the human version of /pinchers/ is not exactly comfortable.
“I just need you to relax a little more, love.”
“I /am/.”
God, he sounds so strangled. Defeated.
“You’re not, sweetheart, but it’s ok. We’re here to try.”
“I just need you to relax a little more, love.”
“I /am/.”
God, he sounds so strangled. Defeated.
“You’re not, sweetheart, but it’s ok. We’re here to try.”
“Hm— like this?” Chuuya asks.
Nothing changes.
There’s just an imperceptible twitch of the omega’s legs, though they immediately go back to framing Dazai’s head as if to keep him /away/.
If Chuuya /does/ relax, it’s for a fleeting second.
Nothing changes.
There’s just an imperceptible twitch of the omega’s legs, though they immediately go back to framing Dazai’s head as if to keep him /away/.
If Chuuya /does/ relax, it’s for a fleeting second.
And the alpha has questioned himself about this /fear/, this ancestral rejection that seems out of Chuuya’s control, but he’s not sure he wants an answer.
Hell, no, he /doesn’t/ want an answer.
Not now.
He also doesn’t want to be the one to plant this seed in Chuuya’s brain
Hell, no, he /doesn’t/ want an answer.
Not now.
He also doesn’t want to be the one to plant this seed in Chuuya’s brain
“I’m not going to do anything,” the alpha murmurs, trying his best to sound reassuring. “But I can’t suck you off if you keep me away. Can you open your legs a little?”
He knows he slipped the moment he looks up.
Chuuya is gawking at him like a deer caught in headlights.
He knows he slipped the moment he looks up.
Chuuya is gawking at him like a deer caught in headlights.
Big eyes stare at Dazai’s head, blue pearls lost in white. His lips are parted, his cheeks flushed.
“I’m /sorry/.”
//Shit//.
Dazai’s heart dips. He squeezes Chuuya’s leg.
“It’s ok.”
“It’s not like I don’t want to.”
“I know.”
“I swear I’m trying. Shit, I don’t know—”
“I’m /sorry/.”
//Shit//.
Dazai’s heart dips. He squeezes Chuuya’s leg.
“It’s ok.”
“It’s not like I don’t want to.”
“I know.”
“I swear I’m trying. Shit, I don’t know—”
“Hey. /Hey/,” Dazai croons. He lands a peck on Chuuya’s inner thigh. With the gestures he creates some space, and he hopes it /stays/ like that. “It’s alright.”
Chuuya hmms, not convinced at all, but Dazai flashes him a smile.
“Do you want to pull my hair, Chibi?” he offers.
Chuuya hmms, not convinced at all, but Dazai flashes him a smile.
“Do you want to pull my hair, Chibi?” he offers.
Sheepishly, Chuuya nods.
His hand reaches for Dazai’s hair, fisting a handful of dark strands. His fingers sink in the curls. Chuuya lets out a sigh when the alpha kisses his lower abdomen.
The Chibi loves to touch and tug at hair, Dazai knows that. It also gives
His hand reaches for Dazai’s hair, fisting a handful of dark strands. His fingers sink in the curls. Chuuya lets out a sigh when the alpha kisses his lower abdomen.
The Chibi loves to touch and tug at hair, Dazai knows that. It also gives
him a distraction as well as a sense of control.
That’s all the omega needs at the moment — control and the certainty of being listened to.
Ever so slowly, with Chuuya dutifully lifting his middle, Dazai slides the omega’s underwear down his legs.
Chuuya then kicks it away,
That’s all the omega needs at the moment — control and the certainty of being listened to.
Ever so slowly, with Chuuya dutifully lifting his middle, Dazai slides the omega’s underwear down his legs.
Chuuya then kicks it away,
movements still /jumpy/. Dazai barely notices it.
He’s paying extra mind to the twitches and signs of his boyfriend’s body — to what he likes, and what he’s not yet ready for.
Tilting his chin up to stare at Chuuya, Dazai runs the tip of his tongue on the hard shaft — from
He’s paying extra mind to the twitches and signs of his boyfriend’s body — to what he likes, and what he’s not yet ready for.
Tilting his chin up to stare at Chuuya, Dazai runs the tip of his tongue on the hard shaft — from
the base to the soft, hardening foreskin, to the head wet with slick.
The omega lets out a ragged sigh, twisting his hand in Dazai’s hair all the way to the scalp.
“That was a nice sound, baby,” the alpha croons.
The omega lets out a ragged sigh, twisting his hand in Dazai’s hair all the way to the scalp.
“That was a nice sound, baby,” the alpha croons.
Chuuya writhes and /gasps/ when Dazai drags a long, teasing kitty-lick on the cock’s head, capturing a drop of slick.
He savors the feeling of boiling, eager skin underneath him — under his hands, under his /mouth/.
Chuuya rolls his head on the pillow, biting the heel of his
He savors the feeling of boiling, eager skin underneath him — under his hands, under his /mouth/.
Chuuya rolls his head on the pillow, biting the heel of his
free hand to suffocate a moan.
“Don’t hold back,” Dazai murmurs, his teeth gently grazing Chuuya’s length.
His voice is gentle, guiding Chuuya into a mental place of trust and safety.
Chuuya trembles.
“‘F course,” he breathes out. It sounds /true/. “Just stop /teasing/.”
“Don’t hold back,” Dazai murmurs, his teeth gently grazing Chuuya’s length.
His voice is gentle, guiding Chuuya into a mental place of trust and safety.
Chuuya trembles.
“‘F course,” he breathes out. It sounds /true/. “Just stop /teasing/.”
It’s the reassurance Dazai needs, the green light he was waiting for.
He wraps his lips around Chuuya’s cock, inclining his head as soon as he clocks with the loud moan that escapes the omega.
/This/ is what he wants to hear.
He wraps his lips around Chuuya’s cock, inclining his head as soon as he clocks with the loud moan that escapes the omega.
/This/ is what he wants to hear.
He swallows Chuuya whole, the cock’s head hitting the back of his throat. The sweetness of the slick floods his tastebuds, sending spikes down the alpha’s body.
The gasp that escapes Chuuya’s lips vibrates in the air.
He murmurs Dazai’s name, he /purrs/ it.
The gasp that escapes Chuuya’s lips vibrates in the air.
He murmurs Dazai’s name, he /purrs/ it.
Chuuya is /big/ for an omega — though not as big as him or any other alpha Dazai ever had sex with.
The brunet has already more or less /guessed/ it during the long evenings of cuddles and dry humping, when he and Chuuya rubbed their heated bodies one against the other, hips
The brunet has already more or less /guessed/ it during the long evenings of cuddles and dry humping, when he and Chuuya rubbed their heated bodies one against the other, hips
jolting in search of a deeper, more satisfying contact.
(It happened on countless occasions.
Ah, right.
It happened in /Akutagawa’s/ bedroom. Oopsie.)
/But/ Chuuya is delicious.
The naturally alluring power of his pheromones, the way he rocks his hips to follow the deep
(It happened on countless occasions.
Ah, right.
It happened in /Akutagawa’s/ bedroom. Oopsie.)
/But/ Chuuya is delicious.
The naturally alluring power of his pheromones, the way he rocks his hips to follow the deep
bobbing of Dazai’s head, the way he /calls/ his name and tugs at his hair—
He is needy and slowly melting away and /perfect/.
The omega’s scent spikes with the soaring lust, a bouquet of emotions that all crush over Dazai together.
Chuuya’s scent is hitting him full force.
He is needy and slowly melting away and /perfect/.
The omega’s scent spikes with the soaring lust, a bouquet of emotions that all crush over Dazai together.
Chuuya’s scent is hitting him full force.
It surges from the scent glands on the omega’s thighs, from the pearls of sweat on the omega’s neck, from the slick pooling between his legs — leaking from Chuuya’s ass and dick.
Dazai’s hard, he’s been for a while now, but it’s the scent makes his cock twitch painfully in the
Dazai’s hard, he’s been for a while now, but it’s the scent makes his cock twitch painfully in the
constraints of his pants.
He has to force himself to keep it /slow/.
It’s getting harder to act chivalrous when his heart is throbbing in its cage and his dick is quite literally /pounding/ in his trousers.
“/Osamu/,” Chuuya almost /cries/, and Dazai’s breath stutters.
He has to force himself to keep it /slow/.
It’s getting harder to act chivalrous when his heart is throbbing in its cage and his dick is quite literally /pounding/ in his trousers.
“/Osamu/,” Chuuya almost /cries/, and Dazai’s breath stutters.
The scent causes his nostrils to flare. The note of mint — anxiety — is still there, but less prominent.
/Sex is a way to avoid problems/, Dazai said to Odasaku.
Well, he wasn’t /lying/, exactly, but this— this is a way to /solve/ one, he hopes.
The omega’s hips snap up as he
/Sex is a way to avoid problems/, Dazai said to Odasaku.
Well, he wasn’t /lying/, exactly, but this— this is a way to /solve/ one, he hopes.
The omega’s hips snap up as he
seeks Dazai’s mouth, greedily, body moving at the brunet’s pace. He also pulls at the alpha’s hair, a little shy of /desperate/, a moan blooming from his lips.
As he sucks Chuuya off, head pumping up and down in a crescendo, Dazai’s chest vibrates.
He’s /ecstatic/ to hear
As he sucks Chuuya off, head pumping up and down in a crescendo, Dazai’s chest vibrates.
He’s /ecstatic/ to hear
Chuuya beg, moan, /purr/.
He wants more.
They both /do/.
When one of Chuuya’s hands reaches out to him, blindly lacing their fingers together, Dazai catches it and never lets go.
Still, he tries to always be aware of the rigid boundaries of the omega’s comfort zone.
He wants more.
They both /do/.
When one of Chuuya’s hands reaches out to him, blindly lacing their fingers together, Dazai catches it and never lets go.
Still, he tries to always be aware of the rigid boundaries of the omega’s comfort zone.
He avoids getting too close to Chuuya’s ass, fingers always at a safe distance from anything that might trigger his boyfriend.
They struggled to find a balance, they did.
This, however—
Chuuya arches his back. He rams his dick ramming in Dazai’s mouth.
The alpha relaxes his
They struggled to find a balance, they did.
This, however—
Chuuya arches his back. He rams his dick ramming in Dazai’s mouth.
The alpha relaxes his
jaw in response, welcoming it with a wet sound.
He can’t believe that all those self-absorbed assholes missed out on /this/.
Chuuya tugs at his hair, impatient.
It makes Dazai smirk to himself.
He’s good at this, but Chuuya takes out the /best/ in him. He always did.
He can’t believe that all those self-absorbed assholes missed out on /this/.
Chuuya tugs at his hair, impatient.
It makes Dazai smirk to himself.
He’s good at this, but Chuuya takes out the /best/ in him. He always did.
Chuuya is sheer, unmapped beauty. He’s sensitive, the kind of sensitivity of a neglected omega.
And just like /that/, something /clicks/ in Dazai.
It lacks the violence of the rut, the blind, lush need of the heat.
It’s /protective/, this sudden need to make love to Chuuya.
And just like /that/, something /clicks/ in Dazai.
It lacks the violence of the rut, the blind, lush need of the heat.
It’s /protective/, this sudden need to make love to Chuuya.
He wants to discover all of him, his inner omega and his human soul.
He wants to swallow Chuuya even deeper, hide him from a world that doesn’t deserve him, and cradle him and protect him.
It’s raw /alpha/ instinct.
Dazai finds out in that moment that there’s no escaping it.
He wants to swallow Chuuya even deeper, hide him from a world that doesn’t deserve him, and cradle him and protect him.
It’s raw /alpha/ instinct.
Dazai finds out in that moment that there’s no escaping it.
His heart swells, his stomach drops.
He sees it, now.
It’s so clear, plain as day.
Through the veil of tears and the piercing scent of sex, he finally realizes that the omega under him is a neglected masterpiece.
And, with his mouth latched onto Chuuya’s dick and the
He sees it, now.
It’s so clear, plain as day.
Through the veil of tears and the piercing scent of sex, he finally realizes that the omega under him is a neglected masterpiece.
And, with his mouth latched onto Chuuya’s dick and the
omega /moaning/ under him—
Dazai is wide awake.
Almost on clue, as if he can instinctively guess that the tears prickling at the corners of Dazai’s eyes aren’t entirely due to a gag reflex, Chuuya bends his back.
His hips jerk up as he fucks himself in Dazai’s mouth.
Dazai is wide awake.
Almost on clue, as if he can instinctively guess that the tears prickling at the corners of Dazai’s eyes aren’t entirely due to a gag reflex, Chuuya bends his back.
His hips jerk up as he fucks himself in Dazai’s mouth.
In response Dazai /slows down/, sucking him nice and deep.
The change of pace coaxes a low groan out of Chuuya.
“Osamu,” he says.
It’s a /warning/ first, and a request next.
“/‘Samu/, don’t stop /now/,” he says, more /strangled/ this time.
The change of pace coaxes a low groan out of Chuuya.
“Osamu,” he says.
It’s a /warning/ first, and a request next.
“/‘Samu/, don’t stop /now/,” he says, more /strangled/ this time.
Chuuya chants his name again and again and /again/, until it loses its meaning and the sounds trip over themselves.
Every word, addressed to the ceiling like a /prayer/, sends sparks down Dazsi’s spine.
Chuuya keeps the alpha’s head /down/ by tugging at his hair, his other
Every word, addressed to the ceiling like a /prayer/, sends sparks down Dazsi’s spine.
Chuuya keeps the alpha’s head /down/ by tugging at his hair, his other
hand clinging to Dazai’s fingers more and more desperately.
They understand each other.
That’s why Chuuya doesn’t have to tell him that he’s /close/, striving to suppress and delay an orgasm that is out of his control.
He doesn’t have to say anything.
Dazai hears him anyway
They understand each other.
That’s why Chuuya doesn’t have to tell him that he’s /close/, striving to suppress and delay an orgasm that is out of his control.
He doesn’t have to say anything.
Dazai hears him anyway
The alpha wags his head slightly to the side, jaw slack and tongue lapping at the pulsating, smooth skin of Chuuya’s dick.
Chuuya’s thighs are still rigid, but less /unwelcoming/ now.
The redhead squirms. Please, he says. More. /More/.
With a blurred vision, Dazai glances up.
Chuuya’s thighs are still rigid, but less /unwelcoming/ now.
The redhead squirms. Please, he says. More. /More/.
With a blurred vision, Dazai glances up.
It’s half to check on the omega and half to provoke him, to make Chuuya see what his pretty body and wanton moans do to him.
But /Dazai/ is the one who ends up frozen and staring, because—
Chuuya’s looking at him too.
Auburn hair falls over his eyes, his gaze downy and bright
But /Dazai/ is the one who ends up frozen and staring, because—
Chuuya’s looking at him too.
Auburn hair falls over his eyes, his gaze downy and bright
A stream of saliva frames his red lips, parted as he gasps for breath. A blush crosses his freckled cheeks.
He’s beautiful, Chuuya.
He’s just as he was the day Dazai met him — sunset and moonlight and water all in one person.
He’s ruined.
He’s poetry.
He’s /Dazai’s/.
He’s beautiful, Chuuya.
He’s just as he was the day Dazai met him — sunset and moonlight and water all in one person.
He’s ruined.
He’s poetry.
He’s /Dazai’s/.
His to love, his to rescue, his to worship. His heats and Dazai’s ruts, they will only belong to /them/.
Because Chuuya is his.
His, his, his.
And in that moment—
Even without a bite, even through the mist of teardrops he tries to blink away, Dazai sees his /mate/.
Because Chuuya is his.
His, his, his.
And in that moment—
Even without a bite, even through the mist of teardrops he tries to blink away, Dazai sees his /mate/.
When Dazai looks up, a flash of amber from underneath dark eyelashes, glittery with tears and deep with /lust/, Chuuya fears he might cum just for the intensity of that glance.
(He’s not going to last.
Not for long.
Not if Dazai works him up like /this/.)
(He’s not going to last.
Not for long.
Not if Dazai works him up like /this/.)
The omega’s chest is mess of vibrations, purrs and moans blending into one cacophony of sounds.
He gasps for air, lungs swollen with moans and sighs that cut his breath short.
He likes it, likes it, likes it.
It’s an odd feeling, after /loathing/ this for so long.
He gasps for air, lungs swollen with moans and sighs that cut his breath short.
He likes it, likes it, likes it.
It’s an odd feeling, after /loathing/ this for so long.
And he feels almost /guilty/ for having let himself down, for never considering that maybe there were /other/ ways. Better partners.
But there’s no space for thoughts under Dazai’s mouth, so /warm/ and skilled and—
“‘Samu,” he calls, hand crushing Dazai’s, hips pushing /up/.
But there’s no space for thoughts under Dazai’s mouth, so /warm/ and skilled and—
“‘Samu,” he calls, hand crushing Dazai’s, hips pushing /up/.
Chuuya’s legs are not as relaxed as they should be.
He knows it.
A pang of anxiety hits him and snaps him awake every time Dazai’s hand and mouth wander a little too close to his ass, but—
But he trusts Dazai.
He earned that trust.
// He knows he’s going to be alright. //
He knows it.
A pang of anxiety hits him and snaps him awake every time Dazai’s hand and mouth wander a little too close to his ass, but—
But he trusts Dazai.
He earned that trust.
// He knows he’s going to be alright. //
“Good, baby, that’s good,” Dazai croons, warm breath puffing over Chuuya’s dick.
The red tip of the alpha’s tongue darts out, sloppily licking the entire length before he captures it in his mouth again.
He sucks eagerly, the cock’s head hitting the smooth inside of his cheek,
The red tip of the alpha’s tongue darts out, sloppily licking the entire length before he captures it in his mouth again.
He sucks eagerly, the cock’s head hitting the smooth inside of his cheek,
engulfing Chuuya in a wet /warmth/ that makes his eyes roll back in his skull.
His toes curl.
He moans, a broken and pitiful and /shameless/ sound.
A thin trickle of slick and saliva runs down the alpha’s chin, a dribble that Chuuya would /love/ to clean with his mouth.
His toes curl.
He moans, a broken and pitiful and /shameless/ sound.
A thin trickle of slick and saliva runs down the alpha’s chin, a dribble that Chuuya would /love/ to clean with his mouth.
Dazai doesn’t seem to notice it, though. He’s playing him like an /instrument/, knowing exactly which chords to pluck — ones Chuuya didn’t even know were in him.
The omega’s body is shaken by a shiver.
It’s an overwhelming high, yet it’s also slipping away no matter how hard
The omega’s body is shaken by a shiver.
It’s an overwhelming high, yet it’s also slipping away no matter how hard
Chuuya tries to /claw/ at the feeling to keep it inside him and make sure it never ends, because— what /if/ it never happens again?
What if he’s shit at this, what if Dazai expected /more/? What if it won’t be enough.
What if his sex face is stupid.
What if—
But Dazai’s
What if he’s shit at this, what if Dazai expected /more/? What if it won’t be enough.
What if his sex face is stupid.
What if—
But Dazai’s
tongue rubs circles over the abused skin of his erection, stalling for what feels like a /lifetime/, and Chuuya is a /goner/.
“‘Samu, /please/—“ He’s begging with his entire body, now. “/More/.”
He whispers that last word, ashamed of himself almost to death and yet incapable to
“‘Samu, /please/—“ He’s begging with his entire body, now. “/More/.”
He whispers that last word, ashamed of himself almost to death and yet incapable to
keep his voice in.
God, he thinks. /God/.
He never prayed before.
He never begged before.
He certainly never begged to be /fucked/ before.
And Chuuya is sure he can’t beg very convincingly — or all those people he begged to stay would still be here — but Dazai /complies/.
God, he thinks. /God/.
He never prayed before.
He never begged before.
He certainly never begged to be /fucked/ before.
And Chuuya is sure he can’t beg very convincingly — or all those people he begged to stay would still be here — but Dazai /complies/.
He sucks eagerly, feeding the feeling that bloomed in Chuuya’s middle.
It keeps rising.
With every popping, sucking sound, with every whiff of his piercing scent, Dazsi’s milking an orgasm that breaks Chuuya’s voice
It pulverizes his fears.
And, eventually, it hits the omega
It keeps rising.
With every popping, sucking sound, with every whiff of his piercing scent, Dazsi’s milking an orgasm that breaks Chuuya’s voice
It pulverizes his fears.
And, eventually, it hits the omega
full force, leaving him breathless and whimpering.
The galaxy of his freckles and the toned web of his muscles come alive with the high.
Chuuya’s never been the kind of person who enjoys intimacy.
He’s sensual, but not sexual.
He’s never been /enough/.
The galaxy of his freckles and the toned web of his muscles come alive with the high.
Chuuya’s never been the kind of person who enjoys intimacy.
He’s sensual, but not sexual.
He’s never been /enough/.
And he never imagined /this/ could be possible.
Chuuya bites his bottom lip, drawing blood, seeing starts explode behind his closed lids.
His hips snap up, entirely out of his control, as he /yields/ under the sweet torture of Dazai’s tongue and mouth.
Chuuya bites his bottom lip, drawing blood, seeing starts explode behind his closed lids.
His hips snap up, entirely out of his control, as he /yields/ under the sweet torture of Dazai’s tongue and mouth.
And, in that deaf, chaotic mash of emotions, Chuuya /finds/ a piece of himself he had abandoned a long time before.
As he spills in Dazai’s mouth, Chuuya realizes too late that he failed to warn the alpha.
He didn’t even give him the time to move away.
(He’s such an /idiot/.
Alpha’s don’t /do/ that kind of /thing/.)
Anxiety squashes Chuuya’s heart for a moment.
He didn’t even give him the time to move away.
(He’s such an /idiot/.
Alpha’s don’t /do/ that kind of /thing/.)
Anxiety squashes Chuuya’s heart for a moment.
It blocks his voice, it /runs/ through his boiling-hot body.
He can already /hear/ Dazai being upset at him for demanding too much, even though /rationally/ it doesn’t seem like something Dazai would do.
But then he looks for eye contact with sheer panic in his heart, and
He can already /hear/ Dazai being upset at him for demanding too much, even though /rationally/ it doesn’t seem like something Dazai would do.
But then he looks for eye contact with sheer panic in his heart, and
realizes that Dazai is /licking/ every last drop of slick.
His Adam’s apple is bobbing up and down as he swallows. His lips are still latched around Chuuya’s length, greedy, careful not to miss even a droplet.
But he’s also looking up, honey-warm eyes lambent and /alive/.
His Adam’s apple is bobbing up and down as he swallows. His lips are still latched around Chuuya’s length, greedy, careful not to miss even a droplet.
But he’s also looking up, honey-warm eyes lambent and /alive/.
When the alpha finally licks one last drop off Chuuya’s dick and straightens up, a grin is curling his lips.
He looks /satisfied/.
With the blowjob, with Chuuya, with how the omega /looks/ because of him — and for the first time, Chuuya, too, realizes how disheveled he is.
He looks /satisfied/.
With the blowjob, with Chuuya, with how the omega /looks/ because of him — and for the first time, Chuuya, too, realizes how disheveled he is.
His t-shirt is rolled up under his chin, his underwear and book forgotten. He’s flushed and gasping for breath.
But the air he’s trying to grasp is also cut short by how /sharp/ Dazai looks, now.
The omega doesn’t know if it’s because of the last, late-coming waves of an
But the air he’s trying to grasp is also cut short by how /sharp/ Dazai looks, now.
The omega doesn’t know if it’s because of the last, late-coming waves of an
orgasm that is ever so slowly fading away, but he /knows/ that he might cum again at the mere sight of his boyfriend.
Still, the omega /does/ feel kind of bad for not even /warning/ Dazai.
He tilts his head to the side, sheepish.
“Hm— about that, I’m sorry I…”
Still, the omega /does/ feel kind of bad for not even /warning/ Dazai.
He tilts his head to the side, sheepish.
“Hm— about that, I’m sorry I…”
“/Don’t/ apologize,” Dazai cuts him off.
It’s that tone again — soft, but firm.
Chuuya flushes even harder.
But he also wonders if that softness isn’t contagious, because he’s suddenly /smiling/ too.
“Right. No. Not ‘sorry’.” His eyes /prickle/. “I meant ‘thank you’.”
It’s that tone again — soft, but firm.
Chuuya flushes even harder.
But he also wonders if that softness isn’t contagious, because he’s suddenly /smiling/ too.
“Right. No. Not ‘sorry’.” His eyes /prickle/. “I meant ‘thank you’.”
“You’re very welcome,” Dazai beams around the words, dark strands glued to his forehead, lips swollen and a blush coloring his cheeks. “Come here.”
The alpha says that — and /why/ does it sound so /cozy/? — but, actually, it’s him who crawls across the bed on all four.
The alpha says that — and /why/ does it sound so /cozy/? — but, actually, it’s him who crawls across the bed on all four.
He captures Chuuya’s lips in a curt, deep kiss. The redhead can /taste/ himself on Dazai’s tongue.
Then, the brunet plops behind him, his chest pressed against Chuuya’s back.
He kisses Chuuya’s temple and wraps his arms around the redhead, dragging him against his body.
Then, the brunet plops behind him, his chest pressed against Chuuya’s back.
He kisses Chuuya’s temple and wraps his arms around the redhead, dragging him against his body.
“So we are spooning now, Bandages?” Chuuya drawls.
It’s just for the sake of teasing, though.
Dazai’s titter is featherlight.
“If you want I can go away.”
“Yeah, don’t you dare.”
“/Hmm/. That’s what I thought.”
Chuuya won’t — can’t — reply to that with a snarky comeback.
It’s just for the sake of teasing, though.
Dazai’s titter is featherlight.
“If you want I can go away.”
“Yeah, don’t you dare.”
“/Hmm/. That’s what I thought.”
Chuuya won’t — can’t — reply to that with a snarky comeback.
Dazai is right, he /is/ a fan of post-sex cuddles.
It’s /kinda/ time he owns up to that.
So he silently rolls to the side, breathless and obedient, exposing round asscheeks, and /melts/ in the embrace.
Dazai smiles.
He clasps Chuuya’s body, holding him close. The omega can
It’s /kinda/ time he owns up to that.
So he silently rolls to the side, breathless and obedient, exposing round asscheeks, and /melts/ in the embrace.
Dazai smiles.
He clasps Chuuya’s body, holding him close. The omega can
feel Dazai’s hard dick against his naked body, the bulge of the knot swollen into the cage of his pants, but the other talks before he can /comment/.
“You’re so beautiful.”
With a shiver, Chuuya thinks he might be ready for another go just thanks to the /praise/.
“You’re so beautiful.”
With a shiver, Chuuya thinks he might be ready for another go just thanks to the /praise/.
“Hm-m. Smooth talker.”
“I’m serious.”
“Well, thanks. You’re beautiful, too,” Chuuya murmurs.
They fit together so well — Dazai’s chest heaving with every breath, his nose buried deep in the sunset-auburn of Chuuya’s hair.
Their hearts, racing together. Beating as one.
“I’m serious.”
“Well, thanks. You’re beautiful, too,” Chuuya murmurs.
They fit together so well — Dazai’s chest heaving with every breath, his nose buried deep in the sunset-auburn of Chuuya’s hair.
Their hearts, racing together. Beating as one.
“How…” Chuuya starts, but his voice dies off.
// How come I feel so bone-deep ecstatic, and then so marrowed-out exhausted? //
He feels so /young/, so unexperienced.
He’s surprised that Dazai is here, curled over him, not demanding anything for himself, /delighted/ to
// How come I feel so bone-deep ecstatic, and then so marrowed-out exhausted? //
He feels so /young/, so unexperienced.
He’s surprised that Dazai is here, curled over him, not demanding anything for himself, /delighted/ to
be the big spoon and not acting passive-aggressive and disappointed.
Dazai brushes his lips over the tip of Chuuya’s ear, nudging him to go on.
“How what, honey?”
“How was that?”
// Ah.
Maybe that is *not* a question he wanted to ask.
It’s not a lie he wants to hear. //
Dazai brushes his lips over the tip of Chuuya’s ear, nudging him to go on.
“How what, honey?”
“How was that?”
// Ah.
Maybe that is *not* a question he wanted to ask.
It’s not a lie he wants to hear. //
But Dazai chuckles softly, and hugs Chuuya and his voice rings /playful/ as he says:
“You are amazing. You just found a lot of obnoxious assholes before.”
“True. But alphas don’t…”
Dazai /sighs/.
A long, tired sigh.
For the first time, he sounds honestly /exhausted/.
“You are amazing. You just found a lot of obnoxious assholes before.”
“True. But alphas don’t…”
Dazai /sighs/.
A long, tired sigh.
For the first time, he sounds honestly /exhausted/.
“Can I be honest, Chuuya? You are too fixed with the second gender thing.”
“/Hah/?!”
“I get to decide for myself if I like to suck dick or not, darling, don’t you think~?” Dazai hums, voice like velvet but jagged with edges.
“/Hah/?!”
“I get to decide for myself if I like to suck dick or not, darling, don’t you think~?” Dazai hums, voice like velvet but jagged with edges.
Chuuya blushes.
“…Right.”
Dazai trails soft, dry kisses behind the omega’s ear — moving down to his neck, to the bone of his naked shoulder.
“And you /do/ taste—”
“Alright, I get it!” Chuuya half-screams, a flush warming up his entire face and neck. “We’re not /there/ yet.”
“…Right.”
Dazai trails soft, dry kisses behind the omega’s ear — moving down to his neck, to the bone of his naked shoulder.
“And you /do/ taste—”
“Alright, I get it!” Chuuya half-screams, a flush warming up his entire face and neck. “We’re not /there/ yet.”
“Oh, and where are we, exactly~?”
“Not /there/!” Chuuya screeches.
“Hm. Well. We can /get/ there,” Dazai chimes, lips pressed against Chuuya’s shoulder. “Then, Chibi gets to decide the place for next time.”
“Oh?”
“The cafe, the rooftop of my university or a graveyard?”
“Not /there/!” Chuuya screeches.
“Hm. Well. We can /get/ there,” Dazai chimes, lips pressed against Chuuya’s shoulder. “Then, Chibi gets to decide the place for next time.”
“Oh?”
“The cafe, the rooftop of my university or a graveyard?”
“None of that! Are you mental?”
“Hm, I thought the graveyard would /inspire/ you. After all, you’re friends with Baby Vampire…”
“Absolutely not!” Chuuya screeches. “Go with one of your shitty one-night stands to the graveyard, you pervert.”
“But Chuuya is my only love!”
“Hm, I thought the graveyard would /inspire/ you. After all, you’re friends with Baby Vampire…”
“Absolutely not!” Chuuya screeches. “Go with one of your shitty one-night stands to the graveyard, you pervert.”
“But Chuuya is my only love!”
“Then don’t propose such places!”
They both laugh at the same time, breathless.
The sound fills the room, as powerful as the scent of lust.
And Chuuya can feel /relief/ in Dazai, in the way he bear-hugs him and murmurs ‘good, you’re laughing’.
And— oh.
Dazai was worried.
They both laugh at the same time, breathless.
The sound fills the room, as powerful as the scent of lust.
And Chuuya can feel /relief/ in Dazai, in the way he bear-hugs him and murmurs ‘good, you’re laughing’.
And— oh.
Dazai was worried.
The knowledge fills Chuuya’s eyes with tears he’s not going to cry.
The orgasm still traps him in a cocoon of happiness, but his stomach is twisted by sheer, unguarded /gratefulness/.
‘I never felt this happy,’ he might say. He has a feeling Dazai knows now, though.
“Chibi?”
The orgasm still traps him in a cocoon of happiness, but his stomach is twisted by sheer, unguarded /gratefulness/.
‘I never felt this happy,’ he might say. He has a feeling Dazai knows now, though.
“Chibi?”
The alpha murmurs it against Chuuya’s ear, almost secretive.
Chuuya snuggles against the brunet’s bigger body with a low purr, fully enjoying the shelter of those broad shoulders and skin boiling through the fabric.
It’s wonderful how /uncomplicated/ this has to be.
“Hm?”
Chuuya snuggles against the brunet’s bigger body with a low purr, fully enjoying the shelter of those broad shoulders and skin boiling through the fabric.
It’s wonderful how /uncomplicated/ this has to be.
“Hm?”
“Imagine what could /that/ be during your heat.”
Chuuya rubs his legs together, shaken by a shiver.
He realizes Dazai never mentions his rut, but he doesn’t ask.
//I’m not ready yet, but I will be.//
He /believes/ Dazai, he really does. He’ll talk when he’s ready.
Chuuya rubs his legs together, shaken by a shiver.
He realizes Dazai never mentions his rut, but he doesn’t ask.
//I’m not ready yet, but I will be.//
He /believes/ Dazai, he really does. He’ll talk when he’s ready.
And the truth is, Chuuya never looked forward to his heat. Never. He dreaded it thrice a year, hating the lazy waves of his pre-heat.
But now…
Now he finds himself smiling.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Right.”
/Anyway/, that’s a little too far away. Dazai’s demeanor might be the
But now…
Now he finds himself smiling.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Right.”
/Anyway/, that’s a little too far away. Dazai’s demeanor might be the
perfect portrayal of /patience/, but his dick is still hard.
It pushes against Chuuya’s ass, and it’s not exactly /nice/ even through the haze of the orgasm.
Chuuya tuts.
“Anyway. You should get rid of those clothes,” the omega says. “We’re not done.”
It pushes against Chuuya’s ass, and it’s not exactly /nice/ even through the haze of the orgasm.
Chuuya tuts.
“Anyway. You should get rid of those clothes,” the omega says. “We’re not done.”
He can /feel/ Dazai’s grin.
“Aren’t we, hm~”
“Hell no, Bandages. You forgot the best place.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
Chuuya throws a glance over his shoulder. He’s never been so comfortable in his own flesh.
“Shower?”
He /never/ wants to forget how Dazai’s whole face lights up.
—
“Aren’t we, hm~”
“Hell no, Bandages. You forgot the best place.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
Chuuya throws a glance over his shoulder. He’s never been so comfortable in his own flesh.
“Shower?”
He /never/ wants to forget how Dazai’s whole face lights up.
—
Dazai’s bathroom — well, their bathroom, though it’s still /difficult/ for Chuuya to think of it as /their/ house — is /huge/.
The shower alone takes the space of a small room, and a vintage bathtub stations under a high window that soaks the space in golden sunlight.
The shower alone takes the space of a small room, and a vintage bathtub stations under a high window that soaks the space in golden sunlight.
(Still, somehow, after Chuuya’s first night in the house that tub always seemed /dark/.
Haunted, almost.)
And yet all of that doesn’t mean /shit/, because Dazai is kissing him and Chuuya’s mind is /spinning/.
He’s jerking Dazai off, enjoying every second of it.
Haunted, almost.)
And yet all of that doesn’t mean /shit/, because Dazai is kissing him and Chuuya’s mind is /spinning/.
He’s jerking Dazai off, enjoying every second of it.
Dazai’s bandages have been unrolled, discarded with the alpha’s clothes when the mist in the bathroom was already too thick to distinguish anything but a silhouette in the mirrors.
Chuuya takes the information in again and, again, doesn’t question it.
He /can’t/, now.
Chuuya takes the information in again and, again, doesn’t question it.
He /can’t/, now.
But he’s beautiful, Dazai.
Naked, unashamed, grinning at the blush that colored Chuuya’s cheeks as they slipped in the shower together— he’s a /sight/ to see.
He’s /charming/, even more so under the rainfall shower head — water traveling down the sharp edges of his cheekbones
Naked, unashamed, grinning at the blush that colored Chuuya’s cheeks as they slipped in the shower together— he’s a /sight/ to see.
He’s /charming/, even more so under the rainfall shower head — water traveling down the sharp edges of his cheekbones
and jawbones, of his chiseled sternum and long limbs.
The drops fall from the tip of his nose, rolling on Chuuya’s cheek, dying on their lips locked in a kiss.
Every drop rounds his edges, making them a little bit gentler. Chuuya’s sure he never saw somebody looking like this.
The drops fall from the tip of his nose, rolling on Chuuya’s cheek, dying on their lips locked in a kiss.
Every drop rounds his edges, making them a little bit gentler. Chuuya’s sure he never saw somebody looking like this.
They haven’t talked much since they entered the shower, but Chuuya made sure to show his appreciation in other ways.
Dazai jerks his middle forward with every throb of Chuuya’s hand on his dick, his fingers sinking in the redhead’s tender ass.
It keeps Chuuya close, /closer/.
Dazai jerks his middle forward with every throb of Chuuya’s hand on his dick, his fingers sinking in the redhead’s tender ass.
It keeps Chuuya close, /closer/.
The omega’s fist moves in between their bodies, faltering for a moment only when Dazai captures his bottom lip to nibble at it — tongue and too much teeth and a burning impatience the alpha can’t keep in anymore.
It’s not bruising, /yet/.
// It will be. Soon. //
It’s not bruising, /yet/.
// It will be. Soon. //
‘Chuuya,’ Dazai murmurs against his lips, fucking himself in the omega’s grip.
Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya, until it’s just a word. A sound.
Until it’s just a /prayer/ fading with the water, with the smacking sound of Chuuya’s hand, with the grunts and the crooning and the /moans/.
Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya, until it’s just a word. A sound.
Until it’s just a /prayer/ fading with the water, with the smacking sound of Chuuya’s hand, with the grunts and the crooning and the /moans/.
Every time Dazai calls out his name, throaty and /rumbling/, his voice stirs the arousal in Chuuya’s belly.
It’s /reassuring/ to know Dazai wants him so much.
If Chuuya had doubts before, fears that whispered their way to his heart like demons, well—
Now they are /gone/.
It’s /reassuring/ to know Dazai wants him so much.
If Chuuya had doubts before, fears that whispered their way to his heart like demons, well—
Now they are /gone/.
Because Dazai is handling him like he’s something /rare/.
Something he /owns/, something he wants to guard forever.
And the alpha’s body tells Chuuya that this — what the omega is /willing/ to give for now — it’s already enough.
Dazai’s body is telling him there are /ways/.
Something he /owns/, something he wants to guard forever.
And the alpha’s body tells Chuuya that this — what the omega is /willing/ to give for now — it’s already enough.
Dazai’s body is telling him there are /ways/.
Because /this/ is how sex is supposed to feel.
It’s letting someone know you want them. It’s getting lost in any way, /every/ way you want.
And now Chuuya knows sex — the way it’s supposed to feel — is not the half-assed, one-way performance that has been pushed onto him.
It’s letting someone know you want them. It’s getting lost in any way, /every/ way you want.
And now Chuuya knows sex — the way it’s supposed to feel — is not the half-assed, one-way performance that has been pushed onto him.
If he’d only known that it could be this /fun/, no strings attached, no boxes to tick, just adrenaline rushing through his veins as every little squeeze at the base of Dazai’s dick is rewarded with a low cry, urging Chuuya on /more/—
Hell, he would have done it more often.
Hell, he would have done it more often.
His other hand is clawing Dazai’s skin, leaving red marks on the alpha’s back.
With every scratch, slow and /deep/, Dazai inhales a curt breath.
Sometimes, it cuts a moan short.
It’s a small, sweet victory.
Chuuya wants Dazai’s body to bend because of him. He wants to
With every scratch, slow and /deep/, Dazai inhales a curt breath.
Sometimes, it cuts a moan short.
It’s a small, sweet victory.
Chuuya wants Dazai’s body to bend because of him. He wants to
feel his spine, shoulder blades opening like wings.
That annoying mask of self-control Dazai likes so much? He wants it gone.
And he wants to see the paths of his nails tomorrow morning, crimson and screaming on /his/ lover’s body.
Because he’s a possessive creature, Chuuya.
That annoying mask of self-control Dazai likes so much? He wants it gone.
And he wants to see the paths of his nails tomorrow morning, crimson and screaming on /his/ lover’s body.
Because he’s a possessive creature, Chuuya.
He is good with his hands, too.
At least, nobody ever complained on /that/.
He always treated that as karmic compensation, a shiny medal of pride in the tarnished galaxy of his sex life.
The heel of the omega’s hand presses over Dazai’s knot always a little too /long/,
At least, nobody ever complained on /that/.
He always treated that as karmic compensation, a shiny medal of pride in the tarnished galaxy of his sex life.
The heel of the omega’s hand presses over Dazai’s knot always a little too /long/,
allusive enough to make the alpha cuss under his breath.
And in that moment, with droplets of boiling water running down their shoulders, steam fogging the mirrors— he can /read/ Dazai like an open book.
What he likes, how /close/ he is.
And in that moment, with droplets of boiling water running down their shoulders, steam fogging the mirrors— he can /read/ Dazai like an open book.
What he likes, how /close/ he is.
How the alpha closes his eyes and how they seem to roll back into his skull when Chuuya’s thumb skims over the head of his dick.
He can /feel/ the way chills shake Dazai from head to toe when he hovers over the swollen bulge of his knot.
He can /feel/ it all.
He can /feel/ the way chills shake Dazai from head to toe when he hovers over the swollen bulge of his knot.
He can /feel/ it all.
The gushing of the shower, the muffled, wet kisses, the
low grunts and the slapping sounds.
/All/.
And even cornered in between Dazai’s tall body and the tiles of the shower, Chuuya doesn’t feel trapped.
On the contrary—
He feels /empowered/ by something he used to hate.
low grunts and the slapping sounds.
/All/.
And even cornered in between Dazai’s tall body and the tiles of the shower, Chuuya doesn’t feel trapped.
On the contrary—
He feels /empowered/ by something he used to hate.
And with every desperate kiss, with every lazy nipping, Chuuya understands that Dazai is a /little/ less in charge, he’s a little /closer/ to cum.
He definitely prefers this out-of-control, raw face of the alpha.
Because with that loss of control, as the brunet’s grip on his
He definitely prefers this out-of-control, raw face of the alpha.
Because with that loss of control, as the brunet’s grip on his
many masks fades away, Dazai grows more /beautiful/ by the second.
He’s so endearing all drenched, mussed hair and crimson lips and naked skin.
“Don’t hold back,” Chuuya murmurs into the kiss.
And Dazai does /not/.
The alpha trembles, lost in Chuuya’s touches.
He’s so endearing all drenched, mussed hair and crimson lips and naked skin.
“Don’t hold back,” Chuuya murmurs into the kiss.
And Dazai does /not/.
The alpha trembles, lost in Chuuya’s touches.
Taken aback by his sweet, barely-whispered encouragement.
All it takes is a little push, a surging pace of Chuuya’s hand rubbing his cock, to drive the alpha off the edge.
All it takes is a little push, a surging pace of Chuuya’s hand rubbing his cock, to drive the alpha off the edge.
And when the alpha cums with a lowly groan, hunching forward a little, his fingers clasping Chuuya’s buttocks, it might be the /truest/ glimpse of Dazai he ever captured.
It’s the closest Chuuya ever felt to him.
It’s the closest Chuuya ever felt to him.
Then, Dazai’s soft nibble and open-mouthed kiss turns into a blood-drawing /bite/.
It rouses Chuuya, the sudden twist to violence.
He replies just as voraciously, devouring Dazai’s mouth, pumping his shaft /harder/ and faster for the sake of feeling it twitch in his fist.
It rouses Chuuya, the sudden twist to violence.
He replies just as voraciously, devouring Dazai’s mouth, pumping his shaft /harder/ and faster for the sake of feeling it twitch in his fist.
And when Dazai /slumps/ in his arms with a sigh, Chuuya embraces him with all the tenderness in the world.
“Did I hurt you with the scratches?” he asks.
Dazai hmms, words slurred in a lazy, orgasm-driven haze.
“No,” he murmurs. “Not at all.”
“Did I hurt you with the scratches?” he asks.
Dazai hmms, words slurred in a lazy, orgasm-driven haze.
“No,” he murmurs. “Not at all.”
(God, he’s so /tall/, Chuuya finds himself thinking.)
“Good. /Good/.”
(So handsome.)
“Is Chibi trying to mark me?”
(So—
unguarded.)
“You bet,” he says.
With a chuckle still tugging at the corners of his mouth, Chuuya welcomes the alpha in a deep, slow kiss.
“Good. /Good/.”
(So handsome.)
“Is Chibi trying to mark me?”
(So—
unguarded.)
“You bet,” he says.
With a chuckle still tugging at the corners of his mouth, Chuuya welcomes the alpha in a deep, slow kiss.
His lips move /quietly/, letting Dazai’s breath time to regain its footing.
Cum runs downs the omega’s fingers, slipping away with the water.
The biggest surprise is that it doesn’t feel like it’s /not enough/, though the inkling still crosses Chuuya’s mind.
Cum runs downs the omega’s fingers, slipping away with the water.
The biggest surprise is that it doesn’t feel like it’s /not enough/, though the inkling still crosses Chuuya’s mind.
// It’s not a letdown. //
He tries to repeat that to himself — once, twice, again — to silence the pang of anxiety that lit in his chest.
It’s not half-an-orgasm, it’s still /good/.
It’s not something he has to apologize about, when Dazai is back at kissing him like /this/.
He tries to repeat that to himself — once, twice, again — to silence the pang of anxiety that lit in his chest.
It’s not half-an-orgasm, it’s still /good/.
It’s not something he has to apologize about, when Dazai is back at kissing him like /this/.
So Chuuya’s hands are in the wet mess of Dazai’s hair, tugging at it to bring him /down/ to his level, silencing every worry.
His hardening dick brushes against Dazai’s thigh. The friction /awakens/ him.
All of a sudden, he is wantonly grinding against the alpha’s thigh,
His hardening dick brushes against Dazai’s thigh. The friction /awakens/ him.
All of a sudden, he is wantonly grinding against the alpha’s thigh,
guided by that blind craving and a sense of need blooming in his stomach.
It rises, rises, /rises/.
Until Dazai break the kiss. He tilts a lean finger under Chuuya’s chin, tipping it up.
“Hey,” he says.
Chuuya /groans/.
For starters, he doesn’t like the interruption.
It rises, rises, /rises/.
Until Dazai break the kiss. He tilts a lean finger under Chuuya’s chin, tipping it up.
“Hey,” he says.
Chuuya /groans/.
For starters, he doesn’t like the interruption.
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