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“Eugh,” Dazai gags rather loudly beside him, raising a bandaged finger and sticking out his tongue as he makes a disgusted sound, his one visible brown eye filled with repulsion. Chuuya’s eyebrows furrow with annoyance, and he huffs quietly.
“Shut up,” Chuuya whispers under his breath, shoving at his pain-in-the-ass partner. The duo were on a very important, level-two mission, and it was vital that they didn’t get caught. “We gotta be quiet, dumbass.”
Dazai gives him a deadpan stare, his expression blank yet amused at the same time. “Yes, because the slug is so spectacular at that.”
Chuuya bristles, irritation welling in his throat. He elbows Dazai in the side again with enough force to make the mackerel grunt but not enough to knock him over. They were sitting on a roof currently, peering through a high window, assessing the situation. Dazai, as usual, was an absolute menace.
Really. Out of all people, Chuuya had to get stuck with this waste of bandages? Shitty Dazai was going to fuck up the mission and get them caught at this rate.
“But just look at them, Chuuya,” Dazai whines, but he’s significantly quieter than before. Fucking finally. The bastard acts like a toddler who needs to be told ‘Use your inside voice, honey!’
“I’m scared that they’re gonna start fucking any second. That’s how grossly they’re infatuated with each other.” Dazai continues, his face screwing up again. Huh. Chuuya’s partner seemed rather expressive today.
Dazai is referring to the criminals they were sent to take out, Chuuya is assuming. Chuuya glances back down the pair — one male and one female — and squints. Yes, the freaks were all up over each other, and Chuuya wonders if they’ve forgotten about the dozens of children they’ve got locked up in cells like a bunch of animals. The two were kidnapping children for their Abilities and trying to find a way to extract them, to transfer them. Something inside Chuuya roars at the sight. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. Hell, he’s seen dead bodies and he’s seen Dazai torture a few hostages — but for some reason, seeing these innocent kids shackled and chained and hurt… it strikes a deep nerve in Chuuya; fills him with unshakable and irrational dread.
It reminded him of The Lab.
Heart pounding, Chuuya takes a deep breath to calm himself. Then pauses, his brain catching up to Dazai’s words.
“What?” Chuuya grumbles quietly, turning his head to cast a confused and faintly irked glance towards his partner. “Why do you say that? I don’t think they’re gonna beat each other up; they look like they’re gonna kiss more than anything.”
Dazai gives him a slow, exaggerated blink, looking a bit confused as well — the first time Chuuya’s ever seen such an expression on his face. “What?” he echoes. “No, I didn’t say they were going to beat each other up, slug. I said they looked like they were going to fuck. Does the shorty need his ears checked?” Dazai teases, a smirk growing on his lips. Chuuya’s stomach does a little flip at the sight; the sensation not entirely unpleasant. Chuuya stomps that train of thought down.
Chuuya sneers, giving his partner the finger. “Oh, har har.” he says, “I can hear perfectly fine, asshole. I’m just confused. If you didn’t mean they were gonna fuck each other up, then what else did you mean, ugly mackerel?”
Dazai stares at him for a moment. Then, in a flat yet undeniably amused, he says, “Sex, Chuuya. I meant sex. Damn, you really need to expand your vocabulary.”
Chuuya slaps Dazai’s shoulder, the brunette pouting and clutching his shoulder at the action, even though Chuuya knows he’s not hurt by it.
“Idiot, you’re still not making sense!” Chuuya mutters, voice a little louder with frustration. Dazai shushes him by putting his pointer finger to his own lips, his smile teasing. Chuuya growls. “Speak english, for fuck’s sake! I don’t have any idea what you’re trying to say.”
At that, Dazai pauses, head tilting slightly at the admission. He’s quiet for a second, then he speaks. “Does Chuuya not know what sex is?” Dazai’s tone is laced with faint surprise, and Chuuya feels an embarrassed flush flare across his cheeks against his will. He feels oddly stupid at Dazai’s words and voice, cause he never sounds surprised.
Chuuya is silent, averting his gaze back to the window and staring down at the targets.
Dazai stares at him for a while longer (Chuuya can feel the heat of his gaze on him like it was burning holes into Chuuya’s skull), then his visible eye goes wide. “Wait, for real?!”
Chuuya doesn’t reply. Dazai shuffles closer, their shoulders and legs brushing one another. Chuuya inhales sharply, his eyes flicking up to meet Dazai’s. Dazai doesn’t look too surprised anymore, just nonchalant.
“Well,” Dazai says slowly, “I could… teach you about it, if you want.” Chuuya’s partner offers with a grin, but there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Something sly about his smile. Something heated about the way he looks at Chuuya.
Chuuya shivers. He swallows thickly, his embarrassment fading into something more like… anticipation? Anxiety? Dazai’s expression tells him that something’s going to happen, and Chuuya’s heart speeds up.
“Really?” Chuuya mumbles, his throat a little dry. Fuck, he felt stressed. Why? His stomach was all in knot by Dazai’s proposal. “You’d… I don’t even know what it is. Is it bad?”
Dazai smiles. He shakes his head, leaning in a bit closer. Their faces are close now; Chuuya can feel the soft puff of Dazai’s exhales against his face. Chuuya fights back the urge to squirm, his stomach churning. He feels sweaty, hot.
Chuuya shifts slightly. Dazai watches him like a hawk, his amber-brown, marble-like eye fixed intensely on him.
“No,” Dazai murmurs. He’s so close that Chuuya can feel the warmth from the other’s body. “It’s not bad. It’s quite… good, actually. I think you’ll like learning about it, slug.”
“ ‘Kay.” Chuuya says, strangely breathless. He still feels hot. “After we take these guys out, you can show me or whatever.” Chuuya grumbles, turning his head back towards the duo inside the warehouse.
Dazai hums, the sound low and throaty and oddly reminiscent to a cat’s deep purr.
“Oh, I most certainly will.”
Double Black efficiently and expertly take down the Ability traffickers — no child casualties nor injuries. They let the children out of their cages and left them there. Mori hadn’t told them to do anything with the kids, just to take down the traffickers.
Mori congratulates them for a job well done, but Chuuya is not able to focus on anything Mori is saying to them. All he can think about is what Dazai had promised him on the roof.
“I could… teach you about it, if you want.”
There was something in Dazai’s tone that made goosebumps rise on the back of Chuuya’s neck.
For the first time in a while, Chuuya felt excited about something.
“I’m very glad that I get to be Chuuya’s first,” Dazai says, shrugging his heavy black coat off his shoulders and placing it on the back of his desk chair. They were in Dazai’s office; Dazai had said that he wanted a private place to teach Chuuya, and that he had what he needed here, so Chuuya complied.
(Also, what the hell did Dazai mean by being Chuuya’s ‘first’? First what? First teacher on the subject? Chuuya didn’t know.)
Dazai had instructed Chuuya to sit on the couch for the time being, stating that it would be the most comfortable place for Chuuya. Whatever that means.
It felt… weird following orders from the shitty bandaged freak, but Dazai was doing him a solid and educating him about something that is apparently common knowledge to people their age.
Yet another thing Chuuya is unaware of because of stupid N and the stupid Lab.
Chuuya’s hands clench into fists on his lap. It wasn’t uncommon for Chuuya to be clueless about mundane, human things — like carnivals, zoos, cotton candy, etc. But that doesn't make it any easier. Chuuya can’t help but feel so… inhuman. Dumb.
“Are you ready, Chuuya?” Dazai says, pulling Chuuya from his head. Chuuya blinks and looks up to meet Dazai’s gaze, but nearly gawks at the sight of his partner. Dazai was currently undoing his tie, his long slender fingers shifting and expertly maneuvering the fabric from around his neck. Chuuya swallows and blinks again. He shifts nervously, feeling that stubborn warmth swirl in his lower stomach.
He still didn’t know what that was all about. But Dazai was looking at him in a way that made him feel a little shaky. It wasn’t a bad kind of shaky, but was there even a good kind of shaky?
Fuck, this was all so confusing.
Chuuya slowly nods in response. “Yes,” he mutters, “Get to it, will ya? How long is this going to take, by the way? It’s awkward just sittin’ on this damn leather couch.” Chuuya huffs and leans back into the cold cushions, trying desperately to distract himself from Dazai’s molten gaze.
It wasn’t working, so far.
Dazai hums, discarding his tie on the back of his chair to join his coat. His messy brown hair falls into his eyes, choppy bangs shadowing his face. Chuuya gulps, clenching his fists again. Dazai stares at him like he was a predator and Chuuya was his prey. Chuuya feels something bubble up inside him and he hastily looks down. Slowly, Dazai saunters over to Chuuya, his shoes clicking against the hardwood floor. Grabbing Chuuya’s chin gently between his fingers, Dazai tilts Chuuya’s face up.
Chuuya’s breath hitches.
Dazai’s thumb rubs over his chin, the touch uncharacteristically tender. Chuuya blinks in surprise, mouth parting slightly. Chuuya watches as Dazai’s attention is immediately capture by the act, and Chuuya swears his heart stutters to a halt when Dazai caresses his lower lip.
“Chuuya,” Dazai whispers, the softness of his tone making Chuuya shudder. His pulse pounds in his ears. “You trust me, yes? You trust me to guide you and teach you about sex?”
Chuuya leans into Dazai’s touch ever so slightly, his blue eyes flicking across Dazai’s odd expression. Chuuya nods his head leisurely, swallowing hard.
“Yeah,” he breathes, “I trust you, damn Dazai.”
At that, Dazai smiles at him. It’s not a condescending smile, or a sarcastic one. It’s not playful nor mocking. It’s… it’s sincere. It’s gentle and kind. So unlike Dazai that it freaks Chuuya out a little bit.
But he also finds that he doesn’t really mind that look on Dazai’s face. In fact, Chuuya would like it if Dazai looked at him like more often.
“Lay down for me, Chuuya,” Dazai orders softly, but the authority in his tone is unmistakable. A fire swarms in Chuuya’s chest and he instinctively wants to refuse. But… but Dazai was teaching him. And as a student, Chuuya had no choice but to obey.
Oddly enough, Chuuya was… okay with doing what Dazai told him to do. In any other situation, he’d leap up and punch Dazai in the throat and demand who the hell the bastard thought he was to be telling Chuuya what to do.
So, Chuuya turns and lifts his legs onto the couch — only briefly mourning the loss of Dazai’s hand cupping his chin — and lies down flat on his back, the cold leather of the cushion pillowing his head. Involuntarily, Chuuya peers up at Dazai, seeking the boy’s approval.
The Demon Prodigy gazes down at him, mouth still curled into that sickly sweet grin. “Good,” Dazai praises. A pleasant shiver goes down Chuuya's spine, his eyelashes fluttering as Dazai’s praise sinks in. It made him feel… warm and fuzzy. In his stomach, and also in his chest. The sensation spread through his torso like the relief of sitting by a fire after being cold for an eternity; skin tingling as it feels heat for the first time in ages.
Dazai seems to notice this, because he laughs. It isn’t a mean laugh, but an affectionate one. Chuuya is so very confused. But he doesn’t utter a sound. He kind of likes this version of Dazai.
Chuuya watches as Dazai crouches down to his level, lifting a bandaged hand to run through Chuuya’s orange curls. The hand in his hair strokes gently, sweetly. It makes Chuuya sigh.
“We’ll take this slow, because I have a feeling Chuuya will become overwhelmed quite quickly.” Dazai says in a knowing voice. Chuuya’s eyebrows furrow briefly, but the pad of Dazai’s thumb smooths the wrinkle out. “First things first…” Dazai murmurs, straightening up to his full height. He towers over Chuuya, who feels very vulnerable all of the sudden.
Chuuya gapes as Dazai clambers onto the couch, straddling his waist. He feels the heat of Dazai’s inner thighs bracketing his hips and he can’t stop the way he flinches at Dazai’s sudden closeness. Chuuya doesn’t understand why this proximity feels different. They’ve been close before, but this feels… intense.
Dazai rubs a palm over Chuuya’s side, fingers dancing along Chuuya’s ribcage. “Shh,” he coos, “It’s just me, silly slug.”
Speechless, Chuuya nods.
“I should probably give a verbal explanation of sex before we begin.” Dazai ponders aloud. His hand still runs up and down Chuuya’s side, down to his hip and up just below his chest.
Chuuya licks his lips and shivers. He nods, swallowing the wad of saliva that had built in his mouth. Dazai smiles.
“Sex,” Dazai begins, dragging his fingers up Chuuya’s stomach and to the buttons of his suit. Chuuya’s mouth parts. “is an intimate act that two or more people can participate in, regardless of gender.” Dazai begins to unbutton Chuuya’s shirt, working deftly and swiftly to rid Chuuya of his upper clothing. The suit is quickly discarded, along with the dress shirt underneath. Chuuya is laid bare beneath Dazai. Chuuya shiver and bites the inside of his cheek when Dazai’s hand splays flat in the middle of his naked chest, the rough material of Dazai’s bandages rubbing at his skin. It doesn’t feel entirely unpleasant.
“Usually, it is done between people who share a deep, emotional bond and have a trusting relationship. But, it can be done with acquaintances. Those are called one night stands, Chuuya. Do you understand so far?”
Letting out a shaky breath, Chuuya nods. His heart is beating fast, and the smoldering heat in his tummy feels more like an inferno now. His skin is burning wherever Dazai touches him, his nerves tingling with every brush of Dazai’s hands.
Dazai’s fingers stroke over Chuuya’s nipples, a ghost of a touch. It still makes Chuuya gasp softly. Dazai grins, his eyes darkening a little. Chuuya’s back arches when Dazai presses his thumbs over them, the sensation new and completely overwhelming.
Chuuya lifts his head, blinking fast. His body feels weird. “W-What… what are you doing?” He mumbles. Chuuya’s never, ever been touched there by anyone. It feels strange. So strange. But good…?
Dazai shushes him softly. “This is a part of it, Chuuya. Bare with me, yeah?”
Again, Chuuya nods.
“During sex, it is normal to be touched all over and to be aroused by it. Tell me, Chuuya, how do you feel when I touch you so?” Dazai drifts his hands over Chuuya’s torso; over his chest and his abs and his hips, fingers sliding under the waistband of his slacks briefly.
Chuuya gasps again. All this touching was making it hard to even think, hard to formulate words.
“Hot,” Chuuya eventually replies, voice airy and breathless. “In my stomach. Feels weird…”
“That’s arousal.” Dazai informs softly, meeting Chuuya’s gaze warmly. “That means your body is reacting to what I’m doing. Which is good, because that usually means that the individual on the receiving end is enjoying it. You are on the receiving end, Chuuya, because I am giving this touch to you. Are you following what I’m saying?”
Chuuya barely manages a nod.
“Good, good.” Dazai begins undoing the buttons of Chuuya’s pants. The muscles in Chuuya’s thighs and legs lock up in anticipation. He’s eager for Dazai to continue, to teach him more.
Chuuya wants to learn everything.
“Although, since arousal is a natural function of the body, it doesn’t always necessarily mean enjoyment. Sex can be initiated with and without consent. Consent, in simple terms, is the permission required to partake in any sexual activities. Consent is important, Chuuya. You mustn’t do anything sexual with anyone if you don’t have it.” Dazai states firmly. Chuuya nods quickly.
“There are three different types of sex; oral, anal, and vaginal. However, we’ll only be participating in anal today.” Dazai finishes unbuckling Chuuya’s slacks. “Hips up,” he murmurs under his breath, tapping Chuuya’s thigh. Chuuya’s breath hitches as he lifts his hips up off the couch and Dazai pulls his pants along with his boxers down his legs swiftly. “Good.” Dazai whispers. Chuuya shudders both at the effect the praise has on him and the sensation of the air touching his now bare lower half.
“D-Do — Do friends do it?” Chuuya blurts. The question has been on his mind. He and Dazai were — reluctantly, he shall admit — were friends and partners. So was sex a normal thing for friends?
Dazai blinks at him, before he sighs. “No, not usually. Sex is typically between people that are romantically interested in each other. Friends could have sex, though it’s not common for friends to harbor lust for each other.”
Dazai massages Chuuya’s thighs, squeezing the fat and muscle gently in his palms and stroking his fingers over the soft skin. Chuuya shudders, a low sound escaping him. Dazai pauses for a moment, his grip tightening momentarily. Dazai sits back before undoing his own pants. Chuuya watches, feeling his face flush and his breath hitch as the fiery glance Dazai sends him.
“With penetrative sex, it is to be taken slowly. The individual on bottom, or the receiving end, must be prepared, or prepped.” Dazai is thorough in his explanations, and it calms Chuuya slightly. He still feels a low throbbing sensation in his stomach, and he looks down to see that his penis is erect. Chuuya must make a small noise, because Dazai pauses and looks at him.
“Ah, that is also normal,” Dazai reassures, eyes sparkling faintly with amusement. But it doesn’t make Chuuya feel stupid or dumb because this gleam in Dazai’s eyes is different from his usual amused glint. This one is fonder, more kinder. Not malicious or mocking.
“In males, arousal often or always causes erections. That’s when the penis is erect, or hard in more modern terms.” Dazai says gently, slipping out of his pants and underwear too. Chuuya’s gaze is immediately drawn to the scars littered across Dazai’s milky thighs. He’s seen the scars on Dazai’s arms and wrists before, but this sight was new.
Chuuya sits up a bit and reaches out, gliding his fingertips over the slightly raised silvery lines on Dazai’s skin. Some are old and jagged, others are more recent and pinker. He hears Dazai’s sharp intake of breath, and Chuuya blinks and pulls his hand back.
“Sorry,” he says softly. “Did that hurt? Sorry.” The apologizing shocks Chuuya a bit, because he never apologizes to anyone, especially idiot Dazai.
Dazai slowly shakes his head, grabbing Chuuya’s hand and squeezing it. “No,” he says quietly, “it isn’t hurt. I just didn’t expect it, is all.”
“You said that sex is a lot of touching,” Chuuya says matter-of-factly. “All over the body. Including there.” Chuuya points to Dazai’s thighs, then, after a moment’s pause, to Dazai’s penis. It was a bit bigger than Chuuya’s, both in thickness and length. “Here, too?”
Dazai guides Chuuya onto his back again, and Chuuya goes willingly. He still stares up at Dazai expectantly. Dazai looks… oddly vulnerable, all of the sudden. His cheeks was flushed a light pink, and Chuuya wonders if he’s embarrassed.
Dazai looms over him, his knees caging Chuuya’s hips and his hands on either side of Chuuya’s head. “Yes,” Dazai confirms, but his voice is slightly strained.
Strange.
“There, too.” Dazai continues. “Sex is… primarily focused on the southern regions of one’s body. However, oral is with the mouth. But, as I said before, we’ll be partaking in anal sex. Which is down here.” Dazai slides a hand down the side of Chuuya’s thigh and then beneath his bottom, fingers skimming along his skin. Chuuya’s breath hitches, eyebrows wrinkled together.
Dazai laughs, but not unkindly. “Yes, I know. It seems a little weird, hm?” Dazai says, and Chuuya nods. “But I assure you, Chuuya, it’s very much alright. The man’s body has a rubbery gland roughly the size of a ping bong ball called the prostate and it’s located the groin. During anal sex, this place can cause pleasure if stimulated, similar to a woman’s g-spot which is also sensitive to sexual stimulation.”
“So you’re going to… be in there? How?” Chuuya asks, eyebrows furrowed deeply in confusion. He’s not necessarily worried or frightened, but apprehensive. But Dazai knows, apparently, what he’s doing and what he’s talking about. Chuuya is being taught, after all.
“I’ll show you,” Dazai says simply. Dazai sits back a little and pulls something out of his discarded pants pocket. It’s a small blue bottle with a cap. Chuuya watches curiously as Dazai takes off the bandages on his arms and pours a generous amount of clear liquid on two of his fingers and clicks the cap of the bottle shut. Dazai then taps Chuuya’s hip with his free hand. “Roll over onto your stomach.”
Chuuya does.
He grabs a throw pillow and holds it close, gripping the plush fluff beneath his hands and resting his cheek on it. Having the pillow is oddly soothing.
Chuuya’s breathing is a little fast, and he wonders if it’s because he’s nervous. He shifts a bit, then lets out a gasp as a jolt of something shoots up his spine and sinks into his lower stomach area. The throbbing between his legs intensifies, and Chuuya bites down on his lip to muffle a grunt.
Chuuya listens to Dazai shifting behind him, tensing when a bare hand rests on his waist. He relaxes a moment later, not having expected the sudden touch.
Chuuya squeaks when something cold prods between his cheeks, his head whipping around to glance at Dazai worriedly. “Cold,” he complains, a bit confused. Dazai pats his butt.
“Ah, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you that lube is cold. It’s okay, Chuuya. Relax for me, alright? It feels more comfortable if you don’t tense up.”
Chuuya nods, his muscles gradually relaxing fully, the tension draining from them at Dazai’s command. He takes a few deep breaths to help, willing his heart to slow. Dazai waits patiently until he’s basically melted into the leather couch.
“It’s going to feel weird at first,” Dazai says, voice suddenly very close to Chuuya’s ear. Chuuya shivers, only slightly surprised. Dazai’s breath is warm and his voice is achingly sweet in Chuuya’s ear. “But it’s normal, so there’s no need to be frightened.”
Then, something chilly and slender slides into him, making him gasp and flinch away. Dazai huffs a little, using his free hand to rub soothing circles into Chuuya’s hip. Chuuya’s breath hitches and he turns his head to look behind him.
Dazai was bent over him, brown hair falling over his face and concealing it mostly from view. It strikes Chuuya suddenly that his partner was very pretty. Messy brown hair, rust-colored eyes, alabaster skin, slender figure. Dazai was undoubtedly pretty.
His hands were pretty too, Chuuya thinks, his gaze drifting downwards to Dazai’s hands. They were slim yet larger than Chuuya’s own, and they were veiny too due to how thin and pale Dazai’s skin was. They were nimble and steady. One of Dazai’s hands was massaging Chuuya’s hip, and the other… well, the other was there. It looked like Dazai was only using a single finger at the moment.
Dazai was right; it did feel weird at first. It was cold, and was just weird. Chuuya had no other words to explain it, really.
But then something changed. Suddenly, the swirling of Dazai’s finger rubbed over something inside of him, and sparks went off in the corners of Chuuya’s vision and his back arched, a loud sound being drawn from his throat.
Dazai pauses, his other hand stilling where it caressed Chuuya’s hip
Chuuya grips the pillow tightly, cheeks flushing. What was that? Then Chuuya remembers, that was his —
“I found it,” Dazai says, and he sounds pleased. Despite the eagerness in his tone, Dazai works Chuuya open slowly, using one finger for a few minutes and then nudging a second one inside. Chuuya hardly felt the stretch.
Chuuya bites his lip as the shallow thrusting of Dazai’s fingers in and out becomes more pleasurable. Blood rushes to his face and down below; his heart starts to pound and he feels breathless. Chuuya shudders, letting out a soft sound as he shifts to press back against Dazai’s long fingers. Dazai brushes over his prostate again, and it rips another moan from him.
“Ah,” Chuuya pants, feeling too warm and squirmy. He wants more. Needs more. He doesn’t know what he needs more of, but fuck. Dazai’s two fingers weren’t nearly enough. The room felt stuffy and suffocating; Chuuya’s head felt foggy and clouded over with desperation.
Chuuya grunts, teeth gritting. “Dazai,” he nearly groans, “c’mon.”
“I’m going slow because it’s your first time, Chibi.” Dazai says matter-of-factly. He spoke softly, but his tone was low with barely concealed amusement. That was more like the Dazai that Chuuya knew.
“Dammit.” Chuuya curses, knuckles turning white as he grips the pillow. His stomach felt so unbearably hot, the inferno of arousal in his tummy scalding. He feels restless. He needs more, or else he’ll… he’ll die, or something.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” his words end with a ragged gasp when Dazai slips a third finger inside. His eyes flutter, a low whimper crawling out of his mouth. “Osamu.” Chuuya attempts to growl, but it sounds more like a needy, breathless whine.
Behind him, Dazai chuckles. “I am,” he admits, but he doesn’t sound apologetic like Chuuya wishes him to. “Do you want me to go faster, Chuuya?” Dazai hums, and Chuuya doesn’t even have to turn around to know that Dazai’s head is innocently tilted yet there’s a gleam in his visible eye.
“Ask me nicely and I just might.” Dazai continues, no doubt with a cheeky grin on his face. That bastard.
Chuuya squeezes his eyes shut. Of course Dazai was teasing him. He was Osamu fucking Dazai after all.
Normally. Chuuya would automatically respond with a passionate Fuck you. but the words stall in his throat.
Chuuya realizes that he doesn’t mind the teasing. The mocking. It’s Dazai. He knows that his partner wasn’t sincere with his words — most of the time — when he taunted him. This was normal; familiar. And what Chuuya was experiencing was entirely new. And also Dazai’s voice sounding like that; low like a purr and noticeably dark… it made Chuuya’s arousal roar.
After a moment of tense silence and rapid breathing on Chuuya’s end, he swallows the buildup of saliva in his mouth and relaxes his grip on the sheets. “Please,” Chuuya mumbles, biting back embarrassment. Never in a million years did Chuuya ever anticipate that he’d be saying please to Osamu Dazai of all people. What a joke.
“What was that?” Dazai murmurs, slightly speeding up the thrusting of his fingers, curling them in a delicious way that has Chuuya moaning even more.
“Please, Osamu.” Chuuya begs.
“Good boy.” Dazai whispers before stuffing a fourth finger inside. Chuuya jolts, nails clawing at the pillow case as pleasure shoots up his spine like a rocket, body trembling. He moans wantonly, his hips jerking up into Dazai’s fingers.
Chuuya gasps as Dazai leans over him, nosing at his shoulder and pressing a tender kiss there. His face goes beet red and another sound is torn from him; one of surprise and even more surprise. Chuuya closes his eyes tightly as Dazai continues to pepper kisses along his skin — his shoulder blades, his spine, then gently running his hand through Chuuya’s orange hair and lifting it to the side, lips latching onto the revealed skin of Chuuya’s nape. Dazai hums again, and then his tongue is dragging against Chuuya’s sensitive flesh.
Chuuya moans, writhing beneath Dazai’s warm weight. “Osamu,” he repeats, his voice bordering a high pitched whine, “C’mon, I need —”
Dazai shushes him, stroking his free hand up and down Chuuya’s side, skimming his ribcage and his waist. Dazai curls his fingers; thrusts them into Chuuya a bit faster and a bit rougher. Chuuya groans. Fuck.
“I know what you need, Chuuya.” Dazai tells him, voice quiet and soft. “I know what you need. I’m going to give it to you. Just be patient.”
Chuuya makes a frustrated noise, panting and whimpering like a dog. Dammit, he didn’t want to be patient. And Dazai seems to know that. He doesn’t become irritated with Chuuya, surprisingly. Chuuya feels his mouth raise into a smile against his upper spine.
“Chuuya,” Dazai croons, “This is your first time, remember? I don’t want it to be painful.”
Chuuya huffs.
“Does Chuuya understand? I want him to be properly and thoroughly stretched before he takes me. So perhaps he should indulge me, hmmm?” Dazai scrapes his teeth along the curve of Chuuya’s shoulder before biting down gently, then suckling on the skin. Chuuya jolts, letting out a low groan. Dazai’s mouth felt so good. Almost as good as his fingers did.
“Okay,” Chuuya manages to gasp out, his voice high and choked up.
Dazai smiles again. He pumps his fingers in and out, in and out. It takes the entirety of Chuuya’s willpower not to rock back into the touch, craving more more more.
Just when Chuuya thinks he’s going to lose his mind, Dazai pulls his fingers out. Chuuya almost sobs at the loss; he feels so empty and cold. He’s about to whirl around and ask Dazai what the hell he thought he was doing, but then Dazai’s large hands wrap around his hips and flip him over onto his back. Chuuya’s mouth drops open to gasp in surprise. Dazai kneels between his spread thighs, his penis erect against his stomach. The sight makes Chuuya gulp.
Chuuya reaches up to wrap his arms around Dazai’s neck and shoulders. It feels right. Dazai cups the back of his head with his clean hand, thumb rubbing Chuuya’s scalp. Chuuya hears some shuffling, then Dazai opens a small packet and rolls whatever came out of the packet onto himself.
“What’s —” Chuuya’s voice cracks. An embarrassed flush graces his cheeks. “What’s that?”
“A condom.” Dazai answers steadily, but his breathing is also a little heavy like Chuuya’s.
Chuuya feels his heart start to gallop in his chest, beating against the confines of his ribcage like a set of frantic hummingbird wings. His breathing is shaky and uneven.
Dazai slips his hands under Chuuya’s thighs, cupping them as he draws them up and onto his waist. Chuuya understands and locks his ankles, keeping his legs wrapped around Dazai. They’re almost hugging in a way. Chuuya is clinging to him with both of his limbs and Dazai’s cradling his head again, playing with his hair.
(Dazai seems to have a fascination with his hair. Chuuya doesn’t really mind. It feels nice when Dazai touches his hair, anyway.)
Chuuya hears the opening of a cap and then it clicking shut again. Dazai tilts his head down, nuzzling Chuuya’s cheek and breathing warmly in his ear before he speaks. “Relax,” he whispers, his hand sliding down to stroke over Chuuya’s shoulder blade, holding him closer. “It should only sting a little bit.”
And then he slowly, carefully pushes inside.
Chuuya gasps at the feeling, a shudder rolling through him. He groans, head falling back as more of Dazai inches inside of him. Chuuya pants and gasps, clutching Dazai’s shoulder in a death grip. It stings, but only a little. He’s loose from Dazai’s preparation.
Then Dazai’s hips are flush against the back of Chuuya’s thighs and his ass, Dazai’s heavy breathing wafting against his neck.
“Y-You…” Dazai stutters, and Chuuya flinches in shock. “You’re so… fuck.” Dazai curses quietly, sounding breathless just like Chuuya. He buries his face in the crux where Chuuya’s neck and shoulder meets, mouthing at the skin there. Chuuya shivers and moans softly, feeling his thighs clench. Both Chuuya and Dazai gasp.
“Fuck,” Dazai repeats, and Chuuya can wholeheartedly agree. “You’re tight, even though I got four fingers inside of you. Goddammit…”
“Move,” Chuuya whines, tugging a little on Dazai’s hair. “Osamu. Please.”
“Fuck.” Dazai says for the third time, but this time the curse word is long and drawn out, a low groan deep within Dazai’s chest.
Then Dazai begins to move.
Slow, deep thrusts that Chuuya can feel in his fucking stomach. At least, that’s what it feels like. Chuuya feels as if he were being stuffed full — to the brim — each time Dazai rocks his hips forward. It was an overwhelming feeling, one that immediately had Chuuya tearing up and moaning like a damn broken record.
Chuuya’s body sways gently against the sheets, pushed up slightly as Dazai presses in. He clings to Dazai with all of his might, back arches as he trembles and shakes and whimpers, head lent back against the pillows. Dazai also clutches him tightly, his arms snaking around Chuuya’s back and waist and lifting him closer. Dazai was surprisingly strong for being so thin.
Dazai’s face nuzzles his neck and shoulders, littering kisses onto every inch of Chuuya’s skin that he could reach. Licking, biting, sucking — Dazai’s mouth gets to work on Chuuya’s front. His throat, his jaw, his collarbone, his chest. None of these areas go unmarked or unclaimed by Dazai’s greedy tongue.
Chuuya is soon an utter disaster, his moans choked and faintly teary as Dazai speeds up; he looks like a complete mess. His hair was in disarray, spreading under him like a fiery halo from tossing his head back, his cheeks were flushed and sweat beaded at his skin as he grew hotter and hotter, his blue eyes were hazy with pleasure and bliss.
“Osamuuuu —” Chuuya keens, toes curling and his back lifting up off the bed as Dazai hits his prostate again and again. He claws at Dazai’s back, desperate whines and gasps spilling from him as something inside him burns. He feels like he’s going to pass out, or explode into stardust. Maybe both. “O-Osamu, ah, w-wait —!”
Chuuya’s vision goes white as he chokes out the last of his words, a loud, shaky moan tearing itself from Chuuya’s heaving chest as pleasure so intense and so strong that Chuuya begins to cry.
Dazai is panting in his ear, his usually cold body warm and trembling against Chuuya’s own.
The room is silent save the sounds of their ragged, unsteady breathing and the slight shuffling of the sheets when Dazai slowly pulls out and maneuvers them both onto their sides. The couch isn’t the biggest, so they’re smooshed close together, Chuuya’s face tucked in the crook of Dazai’s neck. Chuuya doesn’t mind it; he’s too busy recovering from whatever the hell just happened to him.
Dazai’s heart pounds under his ear. Chuuya closes his eyes and snuggles deeper into Dazai’s warm embrace, limp like jelly as Dazai slowly cards one of his hands through Chuuya’s hair while the other strokes soothing patterns along Chuuya’s side.
For a while, they are both quiet; simply holding each other as they both calm. Chuuya feels almost sleepy when Dazai shifts and sits up, carefully climbing over Chuuya to stand on wobbly legs. A split second has Chuuya thinking that Dazai was leaving, but Dazai is back almost immediately, a lukewarm rag in his hands. He wipes Chuuya down attentively, cleaning every crevice of Chuuya’s body before clearing his own. Then, Dazai wraps them both up in a throw blanket, tucking the downy fabric around Chuuya.
Chuuya isn’t even surprised when Dazai presses a sweet, lingering kiss to his forehead, brushing a scarred hand through his orange hair.
“You did very well,” Dazai murmurs softly, tightening his arms around Chuuya’s body. Chuuya has long since melted at all of Dazai’s gentle touches, but Dazai’s praise makes his brain slower than molasses.
Chuuya, speechless, just hums. Dazai’s quiet laughter is like music to his ears.
“So, was I a good teacher, Chuuya? Maybe you should call me Osamu Dazai-sensei next time we —”
Chuuya pinches the underside of Dazai’s arm, and his partner’s yelp of surprise was also music to his ears.
(And no, in case anyone was wondering. Chuuya did not call Dazai that wretched title the next time they had sex.)