Slight spice ahead.
Chuuya paces himself slowly as he leaves Mori's office, trying to keep his cool.
But as soon as the door shuts behind him, he leaps into the air, breaking out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
Dazai's little scheme at Thanksgiving had done the trick, he was now a Port Mafia Executive, and he couldn't remember a time he'd ever felt better. Finally, a real chance to lead again after the Sheep, and access to the files about his past.
He let his laughter echo through the empty hall unfiltered...until Akutagawa appeared from around a corner, a rather puzzled look on his face. He furrowed his brows at Chuuya who smiled sheepishly.
Chuuya waited until he was out of sight before taking off down the hall, laughing again. Not bothering to hike down the stairs, Chuuya thrusts open a window at the end of the hall and leaps out. The air is cold as he lets himself fall, his laughter now ringing up toward the heavens as he plummets downward.
I'm an executive. I get to find out about my past. I'm an executive.
The thoughts replay over and over in his mind as he stares up at the clouds, so fixated on his joy he nearly forgets to use Gravity before hitting the ground. His feet meet the sidewalk clumsily, earning him concerned looks from a few passersby.
Paying them no attention, he runs down the sidewalk toward his apartment thinking, I have to tell Dazai.
He screeches to a halt in front of the apartment door, panting. His hand is on the knob, but just as he had been about to turn it he realizes he isn't sure how he should approach this.
Dazai doesn't do well with gratitude, or anyone relaying they think of him the least bit friendly in any way. Saying "thank you," or "I appreciate it" or "you're a good friend," would only make the brunette uncomfortable. Besides, are they friends?
Friends that sometimes kiss is what Chuuya referrers to him as in his own mind, but if he were to try to articulate that to someone....
Focus, damn it. He takes a calming breath. How to approach this?
Casually. Casual is good. Casual is appropriate. Casual would keep Chuuya from seeming too excited, which would save him from some teasing. Besides, Dazai is already an executive, the youngest ever (internal eye roll), so this news wouldn't even be a big deal to him, right?
Right. Casual.
Chuuya takes another deep breath, straightening his bun to ensure he doesn't look like someone that had just sprinted across the city in a fit over a job promotion.
Before he even steps foot in the apartment, Chuuya can sense something is different. The air that wafts into his face is warm and with it comes a sweet smell. Cake?
After slipping his shoes off in the doorway, Chuuya's surprise only grows. Before him he finds the countertop covered with silver dishes stacked with pastries, in the center of it a wine fountain. Furthermore, a congratulations banner hung over the TV, and the entire ceiling was obscured by floating red balloons.
Dazai sat on one of the counter stools, watching Chuuya's reaction to his setup intently.
"You knew Mori was promoting me today?" Chuuya asks, still looking around wide-eyed.
"My strategies always work, you know that Chuuya. Thanksgiving was a success."
"Thank--"
"Don't. You got yourself promoted, I didn't tell Mori anything that wasn't true."
When Chuuya's eyes finally land on his partner, he finds Dazai doesn't look as smug as usual, rather he looks nervous. He's sitting with one long leg tucked under himself, the fingers on one of his hands thrumming on the countertop. He isn't wearing his usual attire, rather dark jeans and a hoodie, and Chuuya has to admit he looks attractive.
Chuuya normally would have argued and insisted on thanking Dazai for the celebration, but it is clear his partner is feeling rather off-kilter about the whole thing, which makes Chuuya wonder if Dazai's ever thrown a celebration before, or had one thrown from him.
Probably not, which meant he probably got the idea off Pinterest or something. (I would love to know what you guys think their Pinterest boards would look like in the comments :p )
Actually, something does seem familiar. Chuuya's eyes fall on the wine fountain, and all of a sudden he's flashing back to the Halloween party, and he's pretty sure....
"Is that..." Chuuya points at it.
"Yeah. I stole it," Dazai says. Chuuya notices he doesn't smirk when he says it. Normally he'd smirk, bolster a bit, but he still just looks nervous.
And they aren't arguing. Why aren't they arguing?
Chuuya approaches the counter and is a little distracted by how long Dazai's fingers are when he slides a glass of wine over. His partner's brown eyes are still eyeing him intently and he isn't sure what he should be doing to ease the tension in the air (why is there so much tension all of a sudden?) so, naturally, he pours the red liquid into his mouth, slowly, so that it takes up as much time as possible until the entire thing is gone.
When he brings the glass back down, he is thankful to see that Dazai is mimicking him. His face is sort of in a grimace though because the brunette doesn't actually like wine, which makes it all the more annoying when he steals from Chuuya's collection because it's just to annoy him.
Chuuya watches him gulp it down, watches his adam's apple bob, and the thought of biting him there comes quickly and without warning, driving him to dip his glass into the wine fountain for more.
"I didn't invite anyone else," Dazai says.
Their eyes meet, both pairs are wide and a little dazed.
Chuuya feels like Dazai is telling him something else, something besides what he'd just stated.
"That's fine," he says, holding his drink near his mouth but not tilting it back. This is not what he'd had in mind when he meant handling things casually.
"We can go out somewhere if you want," Dazai says, and again Chuuya feels like he's saying something other than what he's saying.
Chuuya considers the offer for a moment, but looking around the room at the effort Dazai has clearly put in, going out seems like it would be insulting. And the thought of other people interrupting...whatever is happening, is not wanted.
"No, not really in the mood to go out," he says.
They're still staring at each other from opposite sides on the counter. Chuuya takes the moment to appreciate Dazai's sharp features, his tousled hair, and how great of a partner he is. All joking aside, he isn't sure where he'd be if he'd never been partnered with Dazai. Surely not an executive. Chuuya, of course, would never tell Dazai this. He doesn't mind giving his thanks, but that doesn't mean he doesn't still feel a sense of competition towards Dazai...doesn't mean he isn't urked that Dazai is always calling the shots.
"We could watch a movie then," Dazai suggests, and when Chuuya agrees they both relax a little, the pressure to talk delayed for the time being.
"Not another one of those tacky zombie movies though," Dazai says, heading for the couch.
"That movie was not tacky! You were scared!" Chuuya feels relaxed now that their usual arguing has begun, but downs another glass, just for extra insurance.
"Please, that movie was as tacky as your hats," Dazai fires.
"Yeah whatever, you're just chicken. I'm going to shower real quick."
Chuuya shuts the bathroom door behind him and wastes no time getting clean because all of a sudden he's weirdly eager to get back to the living room, to Dazai, which is absurd because he's seen him a thousand times.
His next absurd thought occurs halfway through his shower when he's eyeing the razor lying on the shower's shelf. He looks at it, and then down at himself, wondering what Dazai likes, which is insane and results in him flinging the razor angrily over top of the shower curtain.
What am I thinking? He wonders, listening to the plastic cling against the tile floor. It isn't like he and Dazai are going to do anything like that, surely not. Just the thought of it makes Chuuya feel like he might pass out, so he turns the water to cold, letting it rush over him, begging it to wake him up from whatever weird trance he'd been in since stepping foot in their apartment.
~~
Dazai is listening to the water run, his leg bouncing up and down while he sits cross-armed on the couch.
All of this had been a bad idea, the entire year; one big, bad idea. He never should have let Chuuya move in, never should have kissed him to begin with, never should have helped him become an executive just so that he would leave with him. What kind of fucked up person does something like that? Uses someone's affection to convince them to abandon the only thing they love, and then throws them a party for it? Because Chuuya does love the Port Mafia.
Yet he'd agreed to leave with Dazai, which is something he is still wrapping his mind around, because he doesn't deserve that, not from Chuuya. He doesn't deserve a single thing from Chuuya and yet, he's sitting on their couch right now, debating on taking one more thing.
Well, it isn't a debate really. He knows he's going to try, knows he doesn't have the self-control not to try. Because as much as he cares for Chuuya, Dazai wants what he wants, which is a selfish and pathetic way to be, he knows, but he can't change who he is, can he?
The water shuts off, and Dazai quickly clicks the TV on (he's chosen Mean Girls) so that when Chuuya comes out of the shower he doesn't find Dazai sitting all tight-browed and clench-jawed like a man deciding whether or not to deflower his partner.
When he emerges from the bathroom, Chuuya's tied his damp hair into a loose bun and is wearing his usual striped pajamas--the ones that are too big and pool around his ankles.
Dazai smirks at the pajamas, causing Chuuya's cheeks to flush red with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. However, much to Dazai's surprise, he doesn't make any smart remarks, about the smirk or the movie choice. He simply sits down on the couch, the cushions barely shifting under his slight weight.
Dazai has sat on the middle cushion as insurance Chuuya has to sit next to him. It's a lame move, but so had been turning off all of the lights aside from a single lamp, and lighting a lavender-scented candle. All of which he'd done while Chuuya showered.
"Aren't you going to complain about my movie choice?" Dazai prompts.
Chuuya has curled into a small ball, his chin resting on his knees. "No, I like Mean Girls."
"Of course you do," Dazai grumbles.
"What do you mean!? You picked the movie, smartass," Chuuya throws his hand toward the TV.
Which, okay, he has a point.
"I am a little confused about the candle though," Chuuya mumbles, eyeing the flickering item in the window.
"Why? You like lavender."
Chuuya furrows his brow, "How do you know?"
Shit. Not because I sometimes sneak into your room at night and one time found that lavender pillow mist beside your bed.
"Just a hunch."
Chuuya doesn't look like he believes him but doesn't argue the matter further.
They fall into an awkward silence, both secretly wishing the other would break it because neither of them is in the mood to watch a movie.
Dazai's leg is shaking again, and he doesn't even care if Chuuya notices because he's hoping it might lead to a question, to a conversation, one he can steer in the direction he wants it to go.
It isn't as if Dazai doesn't have experience, he's seen a few girls, but none of them as volatile or confusing to him as Chuuya. One wrong move and Dazai might very well find himself flying out the window, which he deserves already so maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing.
"You okay?"
Dazai nearly jumps, having been lost in his thoughts. Apparently, the move with his leg had worked.
"No, I'm scared."
Chuuya's nose scrunches. "Of Mean Girls?"
Dazai throws his hand over his forehead as if in distress. "Yes, Chuuya...please protect me." Dazai reaches his arms out, fully expecting Chuuya to hit him, but Chuuya doesn't hit him.
In fact, the only retort is a smirk, and then the redhead is crawling into Dazai's lap.
"Regina George is pretty scary. Definitely scarier than the zombies," Chuuya says, still squirming, trying to get comfortable on Dazai's bony legs.
Dazai laughs, taking advantage of the situation. Grabbing Chuuya by the ankles, he pulls his legs into the air, spinning him before placing Chuuya's legs on either side of himself. Normally he'd never try such a maneuver, but he knows how flexible Chuuya is.
The redhead shifts forward, knees falling into the spaces between the middle cushion and the others, placing him flush in Dazai's lap so close that Chuuya can feel Dazai's hip bones pressing into his inner thigh.
"What are you doing?" Chuuya asks. Dazai can tell he's trying to sound mad, but Dazai can also tell he isn't by the lack of the angry lighting that storms in his eyes when he is.
Dazai shrugs, flashing his best grin.
"Well, give me a heads up next time," Chuuya grumbles, pinching Dazai lightly on the torso.
Dazai slips a finger under the choker he'd given Chuuya and says, "You're my dog, so don't tell me what to do."
"I am not!" Chuuya sequels, half-heartedly pushing himself away. Dazai smiles, wrapping his arms around Chuuya, pulling him easily back to his chest.
"Hey, don't be mad. Dog is a man's best friend."
And Dazai hadn't meant for it to sound like that, like he was implying that was what Chuuya was to him because...
"I wasn't going anywhere anyway, dog or not," Chuuya grumbles, lowering his eyes, which Dazai is thankful for because he's pretty sure his own face looks like he's seen a ghost.
Shit.
He doesn't mean to, because Chuuya just said something sweet, like really sweet, but Dazai finds himself panicked, unwillingly reverting back to his defensive sarcasm.
"Gross, Chuuya. What'd I say about being nice to me?"
Dazai's words sound sharp, but as he says them he's running his hands up Chuuya's slight shoulders, which is the opposite of a sharp gesture. And his mind and his body are at war then. His body and his mind want Chuuya, they're in agreement on that, but his mind also knows he shouldn't, that he's taken enough from Chuuya already and any more would just be---
Dazai feels the heat first, then the small, pointed pain of teeth biting into his neck. Heat rushes through him, every nerve in his body standing on end. And he knows if he's going to stop this it has to be now because one more bite like that and he'll be too far gone.
"Stop," he says weakly.
"Why?" Chuuya says, his lips brushing against Dazai's skin.
"You're drunk."
"I'm not."
"I thought you said I'd make a terrible housewife," Dazai tries to sound like he's laughing, but it's more a breath than anything.
He feels Chuuya's smile against his neck, and his internal debate on stopping this is over.
"You would. But who says I want a housewife?" Chuuya says, reattaching his teeth to Dazai's skin, closer to his collarbone this time.
It's a small act, a single bite, but it makes Dazai shudder. And while Chuuya continues the process of suckling along his collarbone, Dazai is having the quiet realization that this is different, and not just because Chuuya is a boy.
Normally this would be the moment when he took control of the situation, but while Chuuya's palm is pressing flat against his stomach, pushing his hoodie up over his ribs, Dazai realizes he isn't in control of this situation at all, nor does he want to be.
It flashes through his mind that maybe it's some twisted way for him to relieve himself of guilt later on, like if he isn't in control he doesn't have to take credit for it. That would have been a sensible explanation for the sort of relinquished, melting, feeling he's experiencing.
But that isn't it at all.
Cold air rushes over his torso as Chuuya pulls the hoodie over his head, followed by a wave of heat as Chuuya pushes himself into Dazai, scraping his teeth over his shoulders.
It's something along the lines of relief that he's feeling. Relaxed, maybe. Safe, maybe.
Chuuya shoves him sideways then, pushing Dazai into the couch and planting himself on top. Much to Dazai's torment, the speed of his kissing does not speed up as his mouth moves down, closer and closer to his navel.
When he reaches his hip bone, he feels Chuuya pause, feels him smile, and before he can ask what he's smiling about, Dazai realizes he's been making noises.
Chuuya can't see, but his cheeks flush red from embarrassment because they haven't even started yet and he's already whining.
He feels the redhead sit up, and expects him to make some smartass remark but just says,
"Are you sure?"
Dazai blinks up at him. His blue eyes are wide, illuminated by the TV light, which they both had completely forgotten was still on, and he looks...beautiful?
It feels weird thinking that word about him, but it's the only description Dazai can really think of and his mind is screaming bad idea bad idea and Chuuya is giving him a chance to say no, but...
Yeah right.
"I'm sure," Dazai says, surprised by how breathy and high his voice sounds.
"Okay," Chuuya says, and his voice holds a familiar confidence, one he also uses on assignments, like he's totally got this.
Does he totally have this? Has he done the next part before? Dazai can't find the words to ask as he watches Chuuya peel his own shirt from over his head, tossing it somewhere behind the couch. Against his pale chest, the choker stands out even in the dim light of the TV, and looking at it brings another wave of melting over Dazai.
Chuuya does not have this, but he thinks Dazai believes he does, which is good enough. Dazai doesn't need to know he's never actually done this before. Shit. I've never done this before. He takes a silent, steadying breath as he reaches for Dazai's pant's button, trying to control his panic, telling himself what someone had told him once: There's no good or bad, just pay attention to what the other person seems to enjoy. Pay attention to Dazai? That was something he was familiar with.
Dazai clenches his eyes shut when Chuuya begins to unbutton his jeans, not sure if he can handle watching him do it.
When they're off, Chuuya begins planting kisses over his thighs, leaving little bruises in his wake and causing Dazai's back to arch upward.
At first, Dazai is embarrassed for being such a mess over a few kisses, but it strikes him that while he and his partner are always bickering, Chuuya would never tease him about this. And so, by the time they're both completely undressed, Dazai slips into reacting the way he wants to react instead of how he thinks he should.
And Chuuya seems to like it. Every time Dazai dares to open his eyes Chuuya is grinning devilishly or encouraging Dazai with little croons.
And both boys are having their own silent realization that they are much more compatible than either of them would have predicted. Maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise, considering they had been partners for so long, but neither of them was ready for how this realization made them feel, nor do they address it in the days that follow.
Right when they are about to reach actual penetration, Chuuya pauses for a moment, causing Dazai to open his eyes and see what's wrong.
Chuuya is leaning forward so that he's as close to Dazai's face as possible given their height difference. Tentatively, he reaches his hand out. Dazai knows what he's doing, but for the first time in his life, he doesn't stop what's about to happen.
Chuuya moves slowly, giving Dazai ample time to stop him should he want to, and when he doesn't he slips a finger under the bandages of Dazai's chest. At first just one finger, then a few more, and Dazai's body shudders under the feeling of Chuuya's warm hands against the untouched area of skin.
Chuuya unwraps them gently, eyeing Dazai the whole time. When the white wrappings fall like a torn banner to his sides, he prepares himself for Chuuya to look shocked, or to grimace or to say something, but
The redhead just leans down, placing one firm kiss in the middle of the once covered area, before sitting up again and continuing what they were originally headed for. Tears well in Dazai's eyes because of that kiss, and he knows Chuuya can see them, and it feels so freeing.
When they're done, Chuuya collapses onto Dazai's chest, both breathing unsteadily. Dazai can feel Chuuya's heart thudding in his chest as he nozzles his face into his hair, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo.
It's quiet for who knows how long. Reality doesn't return quickly, the high they were riding holds even with their exhaustion. They aren't sure how late it is or if the movie is still playing.
Dazai runs his fingers through Chuuya's hair, Chuuya traces invisible patterns along Dazai's ribs.
"Still don't want to wife me up?" Dazai says lazily.
Chuuya pinches him. "Definitely not now."
They both laugh, and Chuuya doesn't know that Dazai's heart breaks then, hearing him laugh. It breaks because Chuuya's laugh is the best sound, and Dazai officially reverses his earlier decision. He can't be selfish, he has to change who he is....which means, he can't let Chuuya leave the Port Mafia with him.