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The Importance of Word Choice

Summary:

Akutagawa says he "rode" Atsushi, and Chuuya nearly has a heart attack.

Russian Translation by SorrowPoet

Notes:

Forgive me, I couldn't get this idea out of my head and had to write it.

Work Text:

It isn’t uncommon for Chuuya to invite Akutagawa out to drink. However, it is rare for him to accept. He usually won’t for obvious reasons (he doesn’t enjoy it) and not so obvious ones (bars make him uncomfortable). But this time when Chuuya sent the request his way, he thought that he might entertain his superior because he knew he would want to know how the joint mission with the ADA went, considering he wasn’t there under orders and therefore wouldn’t be giving a report. 

Akutagawa swallows and sighs as he steps past the entrance. Almost immediately, Chuuya’s head pops out from one of the booths, and he gives him a wave. He stiffens before walking over and seating himself on the opposite bench. 

Chuuya is grinning by the time he situates himself. “So you decided to join me tonight? That’s unusual.” 

Akutagawa shrugs and reaches for the glass of water already on his side of the table. Chuuya, of course, already has a glass of red wine with him, and he’s thankful he doesn’t push him to join him in his consumption of alcohol. “I thought I would because I knew you’d want to hear about the mission.”

Chuuya rolls his eyes. “Well, yeah, I guess. But I also want to talk over a glass of wine.”

Akutagawa blinks and stays silent, not mentioning that he didn’t join the mafia to socialize. “Do you want to hear my report?” 

Chuuya gives a flippant wave of his hand. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Akutagawa begins to speak, giving a concise and general report like he always does. Contrary to others in the mafia, he finds giving and writing reports for missions one of the more relaxing and pleasing parts of his job. 

“That concludes my report,” he says after finishing his summary. 

Chuuya hums, letting him know he’s listening. “Good work. I’d have never thought you’d be able to use your ability like that.” 

Akutagawa raises a hand to his face and looks away. “Thank you.” And even though the compliment isn’t from the man he really wants, the praise is still… nice. 

“When’d you get the idea to give Rashoumon to the kid?” Chuuya asks, genuinely curious. 

Akutagawa pauses and thinks back to the fight on the boat. The final blow when he wrapped his ability around the weretiger’s curled first to help him defeat the enemy. That was when he knew Rashoumon could be used and manipulated with the weretiger’s claws. He remembers precisely what it felt like. Like he was on the verge of slipping his fingers into a glove. Fitting perfectly. “On Moby Dick with the fight with Fitzgerald.” 

Chuuya hums and takes a sip of his wine. “How’s it working with the kid? I’ve never met him, so I don’t know what he’s like. Must be pretty strong if he can give you a run for your money.” 

Akutagawa scowls. “Infuriating.” 

Chuuya snorts. “You can say that again,” he says and takes a long sip of his wine in a way that tells Akutagawa he’s thinking of Dazai. “Anything interesting happen?” 

Akutagawa swallows down some water and looks off to the side. The entire fight underground could be called “interesting”. He could recite his battle, which he knew Chuuya would like to hear, but he doesn’t really want to retell the entire thing again as an adventure story. One thought does come to mind though, something unusual that he's never done before. “I rode the jinko at one point before our main fight with Goncharov.” 

For some reason, that makes Chuuya spit out his wine. Akutagawa thinks it’s odd for his superior to waste wine he clearly loves so much, but he does suppose it’s a surprising thing to say. 

Chuuya coughs and wheezes, eying Akutagawa. He clears his throat. “Uh, did I hear you right?” 

Akutagawa pauses, curious at the reaction. “Yes.” 

Chuuya’s face lights up because of something else other than wine. He coughs again, and his gaze doesn’t reach Akutagawa’s eyes. 

Akutagawa frowns, annoyed. “What is it?” 

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just… strange for you to say something like that. I’d have never guessed.” 

Akutagawa pauses and thinks. He supposes it is odd for him to talk so explicitly about missions. Riding the jinko was odd, but the only reason it was done was for the mission. As… unorthodox as it was, it truly was the best decision in the moment. One he would have never thought of nor suggested. 

Chuuya, however, still looks massively uncomfortable. He toys with his wine glass and struggles to figure out how to respond. How does he respond to something like that? His subordinate just straight faced admitted to losing his virginity to the weretiger on a mission. (Though he wasn’t going to say anything about the “on the mission” part because he knows how hypocritical that would sound coming out of his mouth.) 

“Well, um, how was it?” 

Akutagawa doesn’t say anything for a minute. Having his knees bent in such a way with his feet on Atsushi’s back truly wasn’t the most pleasant experience. He could easily go his entire life without experiencing that again. “Uncomfortable.” 

But if he was being honest, having the weretiger easily go at that speed even with him on his back was… attractive. Feeling his spine and muscles twist and flex like they were his own was exhilarating. Tugging on his ear to direct him unnecessarily was (for lack of a better word) fun. “…But it wasn’t a totally terrible experience.” 

Akutagawa looks back at Chuuya, but it seems every word he says is only making him more and more uneasy. “Chuuya-san?” 

Chuuya shakes his head and clears his throat, pushing away his wine because he feels like he must be plastered to be hearing what he’s hearing. Having Akutagawa recall this event like it was nothing more than passing thought has his stomach turning. Should he not be a little embarrassed? Blushing maybe? The man dresses like a nun. He thought he would be the type of person to stab anyone who would even suggest anything sexual to him. 

“So, let me get this straight, you decided to… ride the jinko in the middle of a mission?” 

Akutagawa nods and takes a sip of his water, blissfully unaware of his superior’s inner turmoil. 

“Why though? How could that have possibly come up?” 

“To get closer to the enemy.” 

Chuuya feels like he’s going insane. “How on earth would that have gotten you closer?” For a split second, he panics over the dreadful possibility that Akutagawa got himself involved in some kind of voyeurism. 

Akutagawa knits his eyebrows. Chuuya seems nearly frantic, and he wonders why. “Chuuya-san, you shouldn’t worry. There is no possibility of me deviating from the Port Mafia.” 

“I should hope not!” Because if the weretiger’s dick is so great it makes Akutagawa defect, then that’s something he’s never going to be able to comprehend. “I’m sorry, I’m just… having a hard time wrapping my mind around this.” 

“It was the jinko’s idea,” Akutagawa offers, like that would calm his nerves. 

“I’m fucking sure,” Chuuya snaps and swallows. He presses his fingers to his forehead. God, he’s never going to be able to get the image of Akutagawa in a compromising position out of his mind for a long time. Maybe he’ll drink himself stupid to hopefully forget this conversation. 

“I apologize, Chuuya-san. I did not realize this knowledge would… distress you like this.” 

Chuuya hums noncommittally and downs the rest of his wine. “I mean, like what the fuck was the kid thinking? Was he not? Boss and the ADA’s director were both dying, and that’s what he thought was the most important thing to do?” 

Akutagawa feels the sudden need to defend Atsushi because it feels like he’s slandering his name. (Not that he cares about Atsushi’s reputation, he just wants to be the one to ruin it.) “Although it did not get us to where we needed to be, it was the best decision at the moment. However, being perched on his back was highly precarious.” 

Chuuya suddenly freezes where he’s pouring more wine into his glass. He slowly looks up. “His back?” He sets the bottle down with a loud thump. “What do you mean his back?” 

“Obviously, I was on his back while I was riding him.” 

Chuuya glances away and looks like he’s trying to do calculus in his head. Suddenly he fixes him with an expression he can’t quite pin. Maybe exacerbation. “You mean… when you said you ‘rode’ him, you meant it literally?” 

“Of course. How else would I have ridden him?” 

Chuuya gives a pained laugh before setting his forehead on the table. He straightens back up after a minute. He looks equal parts relieved and exhausted. “Akutagawa-kun, you have got to phrase things better. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

Akutagawa watches, confused, as Chuuya finishes pouring himself another glass. He takes two very large gulps. “You can go home. I’m sorry, but I’m going to be finishing this bottle of wine before taking a cab home. Hopefully, I’ll be passed out by the time I get there.” 

Akutagawa nods and gets up from the bench, glancing over his shoulder to see Chuuya absolutely downing the wine in his glass. He turns back around and exits the bar. He goes over the conversation in his head and tries to find anything wrong with what he said but comes up empty. Maybe Chuuya had a little too much to drink before he even arrived and overreacted. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Akutagawa straightens his back and shoves his hands into his pockets. He resolves to blame this encounter on the jinko. Even though he doesn’t quite understand what happened. 

~*~

Dazai bites his lip and grins when he sees the caller ID, already knowing what the call is about. He lets it ring one more time before laying back in his futon and answering. “I didn’t know slugs could use phones.” 

“Mackerel, shut the fuck up. I have the most unbelievable story to tell you.” 

“Oh?” Dazai thinks back to this afternoon, when Atsushi turned in his report on the mission and Kunikida actually almost had a fit after reading it. When he could see his protegee frown in confusion then turn beet red in understanding and jump to correct the misunderstanding. When Kyouka asked what was going on and Atsushi was frantic to change the conversation, and he himself couldn’t see clearly because he was crying from laughing so hard. “Do tell.”