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Dazai Osamu had a problem. He’d had it for quite a while, and the core of the issue showed no signs of abating its hold on him. He had no intention of trying to break that hold. Dazai Osamu had a problem, and that problem was Nakahara Chuuya – or, more specifically, Nakahara Chuuya’s biceps. Dazai considered himself to be a man of reason, however, it seemed that all of his respected intelligence flew in the form of steam out his ears the second he got a glimpse of Chuuya’s arms flexing. He’d memorized the time each day that Chuuya spent in the gym and would wait eagerly at home with his phone’s notifications on, watching impatiently for a notification indicating a picture sent.
It was one of those times, when Chuuya was gone at the gym, and Dazai was sprawled out on their bed, phone resting on the mattress beside his head. Any minute now he knew he’d be getting a picture from Chuuya – he always did around this time. He rolled around, flopping from his stomach, to his side, to his back, stewing in his own anxious anticipation. He felt like a dog waiting to be fed, knowing it was around time for his dish to be filled, but forced to wait. He was already feeling heated, his body aware that every day around this time he got aroused. With a petulant groan, he collapsed onto his stomach, propping himself up slightly with his knees, allowing his hand to snake down to his waistband. His cheeks were already flushed with the humiliation of knowing just the thought of Chuuya and his unfairly defined arms had him in this state of debauchery.
Almost tenderly, his fingers cupped him through the fabric of his trousers, shivering slightly at the pulse of warmth that emanated from the touch. He twitched slightly against his hand. Dazai squished his face into the pillow his head was resting on, as if hiding away from the world made him less shameful somehow. Slowly, deliberately, he moved his hand, palm applying steady pressure in small circles. He wished it was Chuuya’s hand instead of his own, but for now, his imagination was good enough. His pants were getting tighter, and as he began undoing his button and zipper, his phone chimed. Dazai immediately snatched it up and opened the attachment Chuuya had sent him.
He bit down on his lip as he took in the sight he’d been gifted. Chuuya was hot all of the time, but this was how Dazai best liked him. He was sweating in the picture, hair pulled back out of his face, leaving his eyes, his freckles, his teasing grin, completely unobstructed. His exercise top was black, form fitting, and sleeveless, leaving every bit of Chuuya’s arms exposed. In the picture, his pose was simple, one hand holding the phone, the other arm flexing. It was – of course – the other arm that Dazai locked on to. His muscles were incredibly impressive (as always, in Dazai’s opinion), and with the winding gold and red dragon tattoo encircling his biceps accompanied with faint Corruption scars, it was truly one of the most erotic things Dazai’d seen.
Half subconsciously, Dazai found himself sloppily humping the mattress beneath him, heat pooling in his gut. The rough friction dragged sparks through him and he had to bite back a whine. “You’re so pathetic,” he panted to himself as he picked up the pace of his hip’s movements. “Can’t even look at your boyfriend’s picture without getting like this…”
He imagined what Chuuya would say if he saw this and it made his cock ache. Would he praise him, tell him what a good boy he was being, how cute he was? Would he laugh and shame him? Call him pathetic too, tell him what a whore he was? Dazai wasn’t sure which idea turned him on more. He buried his face back into the pillow, muffling a moan as he found such a good pace, aching with arousal and straining for release. He was so distracted with getting off that he didn’t notice the “almost home” text sent along with the image that had put him in this state.
Drooling slightly, he found himself teetering on the edge of climaxing, overwhelmed with the friction of the motion, hips and legs beginning to ache with the exertion of the action. Captivated with his own pleasure, he didn’t hear the door open, or the footsteps approaching the bedroom. He was too busy humping the mattress, boxers and trousers soaked through with pre-cum at this point. He was moaning softly, so close to finishing, when the door creaked open and one word sent him crashing into orgasm.
“Dazai?”
He tried to respond, but flooded with the warmth of completion, brain fogged with pleasure, all he could manage was “Ch-mmmfgh…” His pants were warm for a moment as he collapsed onto the mattress, spent. Panting he whined softly as they grew colder and slightly sticky, squirming in discomfort. He peered over his shoulder once his vision was clear enough to see. The redhead in the doorway was grinning condescendingly and walked over when he saw Dazai watching him.
“Aw, poor thing, too stupid to even get his pants off before cumming all over himself. Do you enjoy making a pathetic mess of yourself?”
Dazai trembled slightly, still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, wanting to hide his face from the ginger smiling down at him, wanting to squirm under the blankets and hide away from him until Chuuya would peel them off of him and –
Chuuya grabbed Dazai’s phone off the pillow, still open to the picture he’d sent him. His grin widened. “This is what drove you to this, hmm? Really? A picture of my arm? You are insatiable, aren’t you?” Dazai couldn’t tear his eyes off of Chuuya’s despite how the gaze had him squirming. Chuuya clicked the phone off, setting it on his nightstand. “How about the real deal instead of a screen, huh? Does that sound good?”
Chuuya reached down to his shirt, pulling it off, still sweaty abs and chest shown off as he tugged it over his head. Dazai was practically salivating, and Chuuya knew it. The dragon tattoo that circled his left arm also wound across his chest. With his mafia money, it was incredibly well done, golden scales practically glowing in the dim lamp light of the room.
Chuuya climbed onto the bed, setting his top aside before moving to grab Dazai’s pants. He “tsked” as he pulled them and the brunette’s boxers down around Dazai’s ankles. “You’re such a mess.” The ginger then reached up between Dazai’s sticky thighs, running a mocking finger up the underside of Dazai’s now-flacid cock. “Well, well, you still haven’t gotten back up? How sad.”
Of course, it had only been a few minutes, and Chuuya was well aware that Dazai’s recovery time was slow. But the humiliation made Dazai twitch, just as Chuuya knew it would. The red head snickered while the brunette huffed in embarrassment.
“Come on,” Chuuya crooned, wrapping his hand around Dazai’s length, giving the oversensitive organ a firm pump, making the brunette yelp in surprise and overwhelm.
“Chuuya is being mean,” Dazai hissed as the red head withdrew his hand.
“And Dazai is being annoying,” Chuuya retorted. “But you’re also a painfully erotic sight and I need to unwind.” He continued, tugging his gym shorts off and throwing them to the floor where his shirt lay, leaving the ginger in nothing but his boxers. “So how about we find out how many more orgasms I can wring out of you?” He asks, caging Dazai in with his arms and body, a hand tenderly tucking brunette hair behind his ear before leaning in and whispering: “Since you selfishly stole one meant for me to get out of you…” Chuuya snorted at the shiver that ran through the man under him.
The ginger sat back on his heels, perched over Dazai still as he managed to get his boxers off, already hard cock springing free, red and leaking at the tip. He manhandled Dazai into sitting up, scooting closer to him so their dicks were beside each other. With a teasing grin, Chuuya wrapped his hands around the both of them together before beginning to pump, never taking his eyes off of Dazai’s. The brunette shook and whimpered at the overstimulation of his still unrecovered member. Once they were both fully hard, Chuuya pulled his hands back, finally looking down, admiring the view.
“How cute,” Chuuya mocked, ghosting his fingernails from Dazai’s tip to his base – he had to bite his lip to stay quiet. Dazai was aware that he was moderately sized, four or five inches, but compared to Chuuya that was nothing. Sometimes the brunette wondered if lab experimentation boosted penis size – Chuuya seemed a good indication that was true, sitting at a good 8 inches. While Dazai was much taller, this view made him feel tiny, and he loved it. Whether he was ashamed of his arousal to it, or aroused by the shame of it, he wasn’t sure, but in this state he didn’t care to think hard enough to find out.
Chuuya guided Dazai back onto his stomach, hiking the brunette’s legs up so he was on his knees, back arched, face pressed into pillows. “Safe word?” Chuuya asked. Dazai could hear a drawer opening a lube bottle’s lid being popped off. The brunette rolled his eyes affectionately at Chuuya’s insistence. At this point, he knew better than to argue.
“Slug,” Dazai decided, in a teasing voice, knowing the unflattering nickname would irk the ginger currently behind him. The room was silent for a moment, and Dazai waited patiently for Chuuya to snap back. However, the response he received ended up being a finger shoved up to the knuckle into his ass.
He gasped loudly. “Ch- Chuu-YA,” he moaned, surprised by the sudden intrusion. “You’re so mean…”
“And you love it,” Chuuya countered, rough stretching contrasting the tenderness in his voice. Dazai found himself arching into the touch, biting down onto the pillow as Chuuya rubbed at his walls, poking, prodding, stretching, squeezing. Dazai’s cock strained against his stomach, leaking again. Cruel hands found his prostate, immediately attacking it like a lion tearing into its prey. The pillow didn’t keep Dazai’s scream from being heard as he hurtled over the edge once again, weak ropes of cum painting his shirt and the sheets below him. Chuuya laughed meanly, squishing in a second finger.
“You aren’t stretched yet,” He chided. “Should’ve waited to cum, because I’m not done. For a genius, you sure are stupid in bed, aren’t you?”
Dazai was panting, attempting to catch his breath as the last sparks of overwhelming pleasure finally fizzled out. Chuuya was unsatisfied with his silence, and, with his free hand, reached to Dazai’s head, firmly grabbing brown curls and yanking them back, leaving the brunette in an incredibly compromising position, back arched deeply, ass up with two fingers deep inside, head and neck pulled back so far it hurt. The pain was delicious. A line of drool trickled from parted lips.
“I asked you a question. Are you going to answer me, or keep being a brat?” A smile spread slowly across Chuuya’s face. “Or are you so far gone from a finger up your little butt that you can’t even get a word out?” A firm tug. “I’ll ask again:” A cruel twist of his fingers against his prostate. “You’re stupid, aren’t you? Stupid in bed for me?” Dazai nodded dumbly – well, nodded as well as he could with Chuuya’s grip on his head. He was released and allowed to rest on the pillow once again. A hand, now gentle, threaded through mussed hair. “Good boy, Dazai.”
A shiver ran down his spine at that name, limp cock twitching in a pathetic effort to get hard again. Chuuya scissored his index and middle fingers, now focused on getting him fully prepped for proper insertion. Dazai whined softly through the whole ordeal, tuckered out already from two orgasms, but not wanting to tap out until he had Chuuya inside of him. He moaned softly at the third finger, pushing his hips back slightly, wanting to be full; he, of course, knew that he wouldn’t feel full until Chuuya decided he was stretched enough and invited himself inside.
Finally, Chuuya pulled lubed up fingers out, snickering at the sight of Dazai’s fluttering hole. “Your body’s basically begging to get filled up…You should try it out loud, see what happens…”
“Please,” Dazai whined. “Please, Chuuya, be nice, I’ve been so good.”
The ginger hummed, reopening the lube bottle and leisurely stroking himself. “I guess you have been pretty good…” He intentionally leaned down so his face was near Dazai’s hole, blowing a puff of cold air onto the lube slicked area, making the man shudder and whimper. “You’ve even got yourself back to being mostly hard,” he observed, reaching around and wrapping a hand around Dazai, pumping experimentally. The brunette’s eyes watered at the overwhelming sensation of his way too oversensitive organ being worked like that.
“Chuuya,” he gasped, voice trembling. The shorter man withdrew his hand with a teasing smile, taking pity on the quivering mess beneath him. Dazai’s eyes were watering and, even with his brain sex-fogged as it was, he saw how the view made Chuuya twitch.
Chuuya guided Dazai back into his previous position, a firm hand pushing him into the same arch as before. The brunette gasped softly at the feeling of Chuuya’s tip rubbing between his cheeks as the ginger lined himself up. One of his hands came to rest on Dazai’s hip as, with a firm thrust, he pushed himself in. Dazai would have moaned, but the breath was completely knocked out of him as the ginger drove inside of him, burying himself up to the hilt. All the noise he could manage to make was a squeak, eyes bulging, mouth open, tears leaking down his cheeks. He was so full he felt he was being split apart.
Chuuya remained still, giving Dazai time to adjust, groaning softly himself, hands groping Dazai’s hips and ass to keep himself entertained. For a minute or so the only sound in the room was their panting before Chuuya spoke in a tight voice. “Fuck…You’re so good. Just as good as I remember…’M gonna move now, okay? You ready?” Dazai felt him twitching inside of him, the ginger subconsciously grinding in tiny tight circles for some kind of friction. He’d been waiting for a while.
Dazai, still unable to speak, just gave a thumbs up. He braced himself as Chuuya pulled back, but could he ever really be prepared for Chuuya’s monster cock slamming him around? The next few minutes were full of clapping sounds, moaning, and sobbing – on Dazai’s part.
“Dazai,” Chuuya spoke, voice strained, thrusts stuttering. “Gonna…” He didn’t get out the rest of his sentence because Dazai was being flooded with the warmth of Chuuya’s seed. The weight of the ginger collapsed on top of him, one hand reaching around to grab and pump Dazai’s poor cock. The brunette gasped and squirmed, tears flowing even harder, sobbing loudly as he came painfully. Weak spurts came from his tip, but he was already so spent that it was mostly dry. Chuuya was already collapsed on top of him, and as soon as the ginger pulled out, Dazai collapsed as well. Chuuya rolled off of him, getting an eyeful of his cum leaking out of Dazai’s ass and onto his thighs. He bent down, kissing and biting the brunette’s butt and legs affectionately, moaning onto the skin. He sat up, staring intently at the spent Dazai.
“One more time,” he mumbled, grabbing hold of Dazai’s dick once again. The friction was so overwhelming it was painful and the brunette began to cry again as Chuuya played him like a fiddle. Chuuya and Dazai danced the line between pain and pleasure quite frequently in bed, it was something they were both quite familiar with. Dazai, pathetically, found himself cumming one last time, vision whiting out as he lost consciousness.
When he came to he was surrounded by warmth, gentle hands were massaging his head. He sleepily opened his eyes, finding himself lounging in Chuuya’s large tub, fluffy bubbles everywhere, the scent of vanilla filling the room. Chuuya’s finger kneaded his scalp kindly, a stark contrast to how he behaved in the bedroom. He inhaled deeply, the scented steam soothing his throat and sinuses.
Chuuya spoke from behind him. “You back with me, mackerel?”
Dazai hummed softly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes again. “Yep.” He replied, popping the ‘p’.
“Need anything?” Chuuya asked, handing him a water bottle from the side table.
Dazai shook his head ‘no’ sleepily, wanting to drift off and float away like the bubbles he was surrounded by. Chuuya laughed softly, kindly, resuming his work on Dazai, moving down to massaging his neck. This was the way they always did things. Dazai got a warm bath to clean him up, a massage to loosen out the muscles Chuuya tightened, soft pajamas, take-out, a movie, and holding each other on the couch while they waited for the sheets to finish washing. Dazai sometimes thought he might enjoy the aftercare more than the sex.
Chuuya mumbled something quietly behind him and Dazai perked up. “What was that?” He asked, still drifting.
“All of this just because you get off to the sight of my arms.” He repeated.
Dazai laughed softly. “Don’t stop sending gym pictures now that you’ve found out my secret, okay?”
“You get off to it every time?” Chuuya asked incredulously.
Dazai just smiled. Chuuya began to work out the knots in his shoulders. “I’m dating a pervert,” he sighed.
“You know you love me,” Dazai retorted.
The way Chuuya’s hands felt on his skin was answer enough.