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Dazai is glaring at Chuuya sitting across from him. His thighs are pressed hard against each other, his bulge obvious. Chuuya looks at him with something like glee he is trying and failing to suppress.
The unspoken message is clear. No. God, he wants to punch him. Dazai is not going to beg Chuuya of all people for release. Desperation claws at the corner of his mind and pure stubbornness kicks it away.
Chuuya’s place isn’t particularly fancy, but it’s not bad either. Dazai had collapsed on the couch to mope after getting denied shortly after walking in the door, and Chuuya had pulled up a chair to watch him. His hat and coat are hanging by the door, the rest of his clothes remain annoyingly on.
“You are a sadistic little bastard.” Dazai hisses. His voice comes out just a bit too breathy. Teasing touches and comments all day just to get refused actual contact at the eleventh hour— He should kill Chuuya for this.
“No one’s making you stay.” Chuuya points out, infuriatingly. “Go home to your shipping container and jack off there.”
Dazai smacks the side of his head against the back of the couch in response. His legs open slightly completely of their own accord. Chuuya’s eyes track them. He’s not giving in.
He knows what Chuuya wants. He can read him like a book, plus they’re way past the point of Chuuya surprising him. And he. Is not. Getting it.
“Glaring at me is not going to get me to fuck you.” There’s a smile on Chuuya’s face he himself might not be aware of, or he’s just given up on trying to wipe off.
Dazai glares harder. His dick twitches as Chuuya purposefully drags his eyes over the tent in his pants. What is he, some kind of fucking sadistic voyeur?
Dazai tries to ignore the fact that would make him a masochistic exhibitionist, which is arguably a much more embarrassing thing to be. Part of him wants Chuuya to point it out. Chuuya doesn’t and Dazai groans, a quarter frustrated and three quarters unbearably hard.
The word please is born and then promptly dies on his tongue. He’s not giving in.
Chuuya slides off his chair, sinks onto his knees, crawls over til he’s gently pushing Dazai’s knees apart to sit between them. Dazai does not breathe the entire time he’s moving.
Chuuya looks up at him and he feels drunk on denial, swears to himself that’s why he sees stars swimming in Chuuya’s eyes.
“Breathe.” Chuuya commands. Dazai exhales shakily. “Now speak.”
“I’m not,” Dazai shudders. “A dog,”
“You’re acting like one.” Chuuya says. He isn’t, Chuuya’s just saying that to be mean. He is calm and controlled and—
“Chuuya.” He moans. Chuuya’s hands had found their way to his crotch, undoing his slacks. The barest hint of touching his aching cock is making something inside him spin. Dazai looks down at himself to see a wet splotch at the tip of his clothed dick, standing out against the light gray boxers. He groans and the spot grows bigger, wetter. Fuck. He’s pathetic.
“Yeah?” Chuuya grins up at him, keeps his hands resting on his thighs. “Did you want something?”
Dazai glares at him once again, like it’s gonna have an impact this time. He’s never seen Chuuya quite this sadistic. Last time they were doing… this, Chuuya laughed and said something about Dazai being “way too easy to rile up.” so maybe what he was doing now was proving that, to both of them.
Chuuya looks at him expectantly. Chuuya’s hands are two inches from his erection, and he is making Dazai ask for it. Fucking hell.
“Suck my dick.” Dazai means it as a demand and it comes out like a breath.
“Is that how we ask for things we want?” That sadistic grin is back, curled like a cat playing with its food. His cock pulses.
“Holy fucking shit, Chuuya.”
“You haven’t softened at all. You getting off on this, Mackerel?” Shamefully, Dazai’s cock spurts more precum at Chuuya’s observation, soaking his boxers further. Chuuya’s eyes and grin widen, fangs bared in pure bloodthirsty delight. Fuck. Fuck.
“Please…” Dazai absolutely whimpers. He pushes his hips up towards Chuuya’s face. “Please. Please.” He’s aware this is pathetic, that he’s giving in. He’s doing it anyway. Chuuya wasn’t going to break this time, and sometimes you have to make sacrifices to get to your goal.
“There we go. Knew you could do it.” Chuuya smooths over his thighs and reaches a gloved hand to pull down his boxers. His cock springs out, red and leaking and so, so hard. It’s shiny from precum and it throbs as Chuuya reaches his hand around it and starts to pump.
Being refused for so long makes the slide of leather over him so much sweeter, and Dazai can’t help the sounds that Chuuya effortlessly pulls out of him. “Chuu—Chuuya. Chuuya.” He moans. Chuuya likes hearing his name, and now that Dazai’s gotten what he wants, he can stand to reward good behavior. He watches as Chuuya speeds up, swipes a thumb over the tip.
“Suck my dick?” Dazai tries again, breathy from the way he’s being touched.
“Why? This isn’t enough for you?” Chuuya asks, not particularly annoyed but not really asking either. Dazai takes the no in stride and keeps watching Chuuya’s fist fly over his dick. Pleasure is building in his stomach faster than anticipated, and he thinks he could cum from this view alone.
Chuuya’s never let him cum on him. He could look good with Dazai’s cum dripping down his face, that sadistic grin gone for good. Dazai imagines him swiping his fingers through it, licking it off them. Making Dazai lick it off them. Telling him how pathetic he is, forcing his fingers down his throat.
Chuuya presses his thumb into his slit and Dazai is dragged back to reality with a gasp, gripping the cushions under him. “Chuuya, fuck,”
“Lost you for a second there. Having pleasant dreams?” Chuuya half mocks and half asks, slowing his pace, giving Dazai space to answer.
“Keep going.” Dazai groans instead. Chuuya gives a minuscule shrug and does, returning them back to only listening to Dazai’s soft sounds as he brings him closer and closer to the edge.
Dazai breaks the silence a few minutes later with his eyes screwed a bit too tight. “Chuuya,” He gasps, warns. “Chuuya.”
“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” Chuuya rubs over the head of his cock, glove coated in precum.
“Fuck, yeah, fuck.” Dazai pants, thrusting his hips up. He’s ready, he’s there, he’s going to cum—
Chuuya pulls his hand off. Dazai lets out an involuntary groan before he’s even realized what’s happened. “Wh-“
Chuuya smoothes his hands over his thighs again, looking like he didn’t just pull Dazai away from the edge instead of over it. “Maybe we could take this to the bedroom instead?” His voice is purposefully seductive. Dazai stares at him, brain still mostly offline.
“Okay?” He manages, and Chuuya climbs to his feet and pulls Dazai up as well. Leads them to his bedroom, pushes him on the bed, takes off Dazai’s shoes and then his own. Chuuya’s smile is back as he crawls over Dazai to kiss him, and Dazai doesn’t understand. He kisses back like he does, letting Chuuya lead him towards every action he takes. His cock rubs against Chuuya as Chuuya presses his tongue into his mouth. His mind is blank, not pleasantly or unpleasantly, just empty.
He watches as Chuuya undoes his blazer, his tie, his button up. Pulls his pants and boxers off, gives his dick a solid stroke, and then settles between Dazai’s bandaged legs as he takes the head into the wet heat of his mouth. Dazai’s brain turns back on enough to speak.
“Why did—“ Chuuya sucks hard, Dazai throws his head back with a gasp, gripping the sheets. “Why did we move?”
Chuuya pops off, shrugs. “Bed’s more comfortable. Let me make you cum, okay?”
“Okay.” Dazai nods, relaxes, lets himself feel. He trusts Chuuya, like you’d trust a knife to cut and a dog to bark, he trusts Chuuya to take care of him.
He pushes himself back up on his elbows to watch again, moans an “Oh, fuck.” as Chuuya takes his cock down his throat and presses his nose against his pubic hair. Just for now, dying doesn’t sound anywhere near as good as the back of Chuuya’s throat feels. Chuuya swallows around him and Dazai falls back against the pillows.
Pleasure builds again, tightening into a coil inside him. It’s too much, it’s too much, he needs to let it out, needs to find somewhere for it to go. His hands are clenching, nails digging into his palms. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya.” Dazai digs a socked heel into Chuuya’s back and throws an arm over his face as he sobs. It’s too much, he’s going to cum, ”Too- too- too—“
Chuuya pulls off and Dazai wails.
“What the hell,” He gasps out, wide eyed and betrayed. “What the fuck.”
Chuuya sits on his knees, looks at him like he’s winning at a game Dazai hasn’t caught on to yet. He wipes the back of his sleeve against his mouth. He says nothing to justify what he did.
“You’re doing that on purpose.” Realization hits Dazai embarrassingly late, would have been faster if sex with Chuuya didn’t always make his mind hang up a Gone Fuckin’ sign and promptly disappear.
“Yes.” Chuuya says bluntly. “You don’t like it?”
Dazai’s dick throbs. He likes it. Chuuya’s playing him like a game, like an instrument, like entertainment and creation all at once. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know what he would say. Probably something stupid like Please or Again or I love this. I love you.
Chuuya understands anyway and goes back down on his cock. “Fuck.” Dazai breathes out, watches him this time. Places a hand on the top of his head, not grabbing, just laying.
Dazai thinks about everything in the universe and nothing at all and Chuuya and desperation.
The difference between mind and body and the difference between survival and life is same as the difference between the feeling when he put a bullet through someone’s head before Chuuya even saw the guy behind him yesterday, and the feeling when the mess inside of him clawing to get out, inches from the surface, is instead forced to slowly retreat back as Chuuya pulls off his cock for the third time tonight.
“Please.” Dazai chokes out. He needs to get off as much as he need to wrap himself in this feeling and drown in it. “Please.”
“What do you want, baby?” Chuuya says. Dazai can’t decide if he should cringe away from or lean into the pet name, so he ignores it entirely. He thinks Chuuya might be a bit drunk on domination, watches as he sucks a red spot into his upper thigh, the unwrapped part. He doesn’t answer, so Chuuya speaks again. “Dazai. Are you in there?”
“Ngh.” Dazai answers weakly. “Please.” He tries again.
“Poor baby, I’ll take care of you.” Vaguely, Dazai registers that Chuuya is thrumming with excitement. He drags his fingers down Dazai’s thighs again, over bandages light enough Dazai can barely feel it. He shudders anyway.
Chuuya pulls back and Dazai whimpers, thinking briefly he’s getting abandoned again, but Chuuya is just frantically undoing his own pants. He shoves them and his boxers to the ground, exposing his cunt. Dazai stares at the curled orange hair there, dazed. Chuuya digs through the dresser behind him for something.
He turns around holding a condom with that look on his face, smile splitting it in half. Dazai meets his eyes and faintly smiles back at him. “When did you buy those?”
Chuuya crawls on top of him and doesn’t answer. They’ve been messing around like this for a month or two, but haven’t done penetration yet. Dazai is excited and scared and desperately horny all at once. Chuuya kisses him again, closed mouth and pressing hard enough to just barely betray his enthusiasm. He rubs himself on Dazai’s cock, inhaling sharply as the head brushes against his clit.
“Dazai.” Chuuya says. Dazai looks up at him. “I’m going to ride you, okay?”
Dazai nods and lets out a barely audible “Please.”
Chuuya sits back on Dazai’s thighs, rips open the condom like a dying man searching for a final scrap of life. Dazai thinks he understands the point of wanting life that much, now. Chuuya rolls it over Dazai’s cock and pumps it a few times as he shudders again.
Chuuya lifts himself up, lines Dazai’s cock against his slit and slowly, inch by inch, takes it in. Dazai is rapt, obsessed, in love with life, with this moment, with Chuuya. He watches his dick disappear inside of him and feels the air being stolen from his lungs, his heart stolen from his chest, and his brain swiped straight from his head. He is nothing but this feeling, nothing but Chuuya’s hands on his stomach as he bottoms out, nothing but the groan Chuuya makes, nothing but Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya.
“Fuck.” He breathes. His hands reach for Chuuya’s hips and then drop, deciding himself unworthy of holding on. Only a spectator for this, just stealing a glimpse into the life everyone keeps telling him is worth living. They’re right about this one.
“You swear,” Chuuya grinds his hips down and Dazai almost starts begging then and there. “Way more when you’re horny, you know?”
“Yeah.” He mumbles, vaguely aware of what Chuuya said. “Yeah.”
Chuuya pulls off his jacket, unbuttons his own vest and shirt. Pulls off his gloves. He clearly has time now that Dazai’s inside him. He lifts his hips up a few inches experimentally, and then drops them back down. Dazai’s “Ah—“ is mixed with Chuuya’s “Oh!” and Chuuya does it again, again, again. Building a rhythm, driving Dazai mad.
The heat inside him builds back up, in his stomach and seeping into the rest of him. It needs somewhere to go. Dazai’s body can’t handle it, he needs a release. Chuuya’s got Dazai’s hips pinned as he rides him, but the rest of him jerks, hands and feet hitting the mattress. A high pitched whine escapes his throat without his permission and Chuuya gives him that goddamn look again, like Dazai himself is a game Chuuya is winning.
“Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya.” He feels the name force itself out of his mouth more than he actively chants it. “Fuck, shit, Chuuya, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, Please let me cum this time, please, please, please,” He begs. His hands uselessly hit the mattress under him, desperate to get some of the energy inside of him out. He holds off cumming with all the willpower he has, trembling from the effort. Chuuya is the one who gets to decide.
Chuuya keeps going. “Do you deserve it?” He breathes.
“Yes, fuck, yes—"
“What have you done to deserve it?”
“I’ve been good, fuck, Chuuya—“
Chuuya pretends to consider this while still actively bouncing on his cock, which just brings Dazai closer. “Please, fuck, please. I need it. I’m gonna—“ Dazai cuts himself off as Chuuya speeds up. His fingers go to rub at his clit, chasing his own orgasm. He moans, loud and uninhibited and perfect. Dazai is going to die, this orgasm is going to kill him. Chuuya is going to kill him. “Please, fuck,” He sobs. “I can’t hold it back anymore, Chuuya, Chuuya, I’m going to cu—“
His sentence is interrupted by a moan and stars burst behind his vision as it hits, feeling the condom fill as Chuuya keeps riding him. He shakes against the bed, his grip white on the sheets. Every part of him is created and destroyed and put to rest. He distantly hears Chuuya’s moans hit that high pitch that means he’s cumming, feels his insides squeeze out his last spurts into the condom.
Chuuya’s panting as he slows down to a stop and Dazai uses all his energy to pull himself up to sit and wrap his arms around him, catching his breath against Chuuya’s shoulder. Chuuya hugs him back tight.
They stay like that for a bit, before Chuuya announces this is new levels of disgusting even for Dazai and escapes to the bathroom, and Dazai’s brain kicks in just enough to pull himself out of bed, dispose of the condom, and join Chuuya in the shower.
They kiss against the shower wall as hot water washes the sweat off Dazai’s back, and Chuuya lets Dazai cup his face in his hands for a moment without comment in return for the same as Chuuya drags his hands down Dazai’s hips and thighs. Dazai’s bandages get wet. Chuuya doesn’t comment on that either. Dazai wonders if he wants to.
Dazai holds his chin as they get out and dry off and Chuuya looks at him quizzically.
“Didn’t think my dog was that much of a sadist.” Dazai says simply. Chuuya kicks him in the back of the knees and Dazai knows it’s way lighter than he wants to. He drops to the ground anyway, claiming to be horrifically injured and threatening Chuuya with a mafia execution.
He gets up moments later to follow Chuuya to the kitchen, happily accepting the offered snacks and only making one joke about Chuuya poisoning him to get off on his discomfort.
Chuuya smiles at him, and this time it’s something close to affectionate.