Archive of Our Own ^beta

DAY 2: KIDNAPPING

“Oh noooo I’m being kidnapped *gasp* what shall I doooo…” My voice is dull and I hold my hands up in mock surrender as I’m shoved into the back of the truck. The door slams shut behind me and I sit back on my heels, rolling my shoulder. “Well that hurt…” I mumble to myself.

The back of the truck is dark and I put a hand down to steady myself as it pulls away with a lurch. Now I wait. Because I let the Port Mafia catch me. There’s something I need from them. This was the quickest way. I’ll get inside, they’ll lock me up. I’ll escape, hack their computers and voila. I get what I need and I’m out. Simple. Nothing can possibly go wrong. 

Nothing.

At all…

Perfect plan.

By the time the back of the truck opens again, I’m laying on my back with my fingers laced behind my head, humming to myself, legs crossed. 

“Dazai!?”

I know that voice. I sit bolt upright and stare at the person holding the door open.

“Damn it…” 

Chuuya.

************

The ease of my perfect plan bleeds away. Bleeds. Like I am bleeding. Blood dripping from my mouth in thick strings mixed with saliva. Blood trailing from a gash on my eyebrow, running down my face to finally fall in big, perfect drops from the tip of my nose.

All courtesy of Chuuya. Who–”Thought you were in Africa.” I spit and lift my head to look at him. The corner of his mouth pulls to the side and he raises an eyebrow.

“The hell d’you get your intel from?” He cracks his knuckles and I brace for another blow to my face but he hits me in the gut with a roundhouse kick instead.

“Fuck-!” I cough. “Enough. I get it, I get it.” I spit more blood onto the ground. He grips my hair so hard I wince as he pulls my head back, but I meet his gaze steadily. “Mm. Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up!” His voice is so loud it makes my ears ring.

“Oh? Not in the mood, huh? I should’ve kno-” My voice is cut off when his hand clasps around my throat, instantly stopping my breath. Pressure builds in my skull immediately. My stupid brain narrows in on how warm his hand feels through the leather of his glove, how every finger feels digging into the soft spots of my neck. More. I want more.

“What makes you think you’re in any position to fuck with me? You already gave yourself away–you weren’t planning on this were you? On me!”

Black spots float at the edge of my vision. Tempting… but not quite so much so as the man standing so close that I can smell him. That I can feel the tension in him just through the hand on my throat. Can hear his breathing–see the rise and fall of his chest… and, fuck… how can he still have such a hold on me. 

He squeezes tighter and I reflexively try to cough but his grip is too tight. Hell… he’s so close… I lift my leg and slide my knee between his thighs.

Instantly the pressure on my throat disappears, and my head snaps to the side as his fist connects with my jaw. The pull on my hair again barely registers through my gasping and coughing for air. The sudden intake of oxygen leaves me dizzy.

Chuuya steps closer between my legs. “This what you want?” He growls in my ear, rolling his hips against mine. “You were always taking. Using… right?” He lets out a slightly manic laugh that should scare me but it shoots straight to my core–straight to my dick. “Thought I was different.” He releases my hair to grip my jaw painfully instead, shoving his thumb past my lips and hooking it behind my teeth. He leans closer, his eyes intensely searching mine. I can feel his breath on my lips when he speaks.

“That’s what you wanted, right? To make me think I was-... I fell for it.” He wets his lips, his next words push past clenched teeth. “Was wrapped around your goddamn finger!” I can feel him trembling, hear the hurt and hatred in his voice. The regret. The frustration. “Didn’t even fuckin’ realize it. Thought you respected me–thought you-...” he swallows and glances away for a moment, glaring at some unseen memory. Some ghost of us.

“But no.” His thumb digs into the soft spot beneath my tongue. He presses a patronizing kiss to my cheek and drops his voice to something performatively softer. “Maybe we should see how you like it.” He tilts his head to the side, movement slight but precise, eyes locked with mine. My heart beats against my ribs–faster, harder than it has in years. 

Fuck, I want him.

He lets go of my jaw, slowly pulling his thumb from my mouth, the leather wet with blood and saliva. I watch as he drags the same thumb across his own tongue. The sight draws a groan from my throat.

Without warning he kicks through the restraints holding my wrists. Bits of concrete rain down on me as I drop to my knees. Chuuya grabs my wrist so hard it hurts but I don’t resist as he unlocks the cuffs on my ankles and locks them around my wrists instead, effectively forcing me to kneel sitting back on my heels.

Chuuya stands, a foot on either side of my thighs. “Lower,” he says and shoves at my shoulder. I pull my feet out from beneath me so I’m on my ass– eye level with Chuuya’s crotch as he takes a step back and starts to open his belt. My eyes track the movement and the obvious outline of his cock. Button popped. Fly down. Pants shoved to his thighs. His thumbs in my mouth wrenching my jaw open and my breath, stolen as he forces himself over my tongue, hitting the back of my throat with too much force.

I gag immediately. Loudly. Dramatically. Chuuya pulls back and looks at me with disgust. “Really?”

“Give me a minute, damn. You can’t just-” He cuts me off by yanking my head back by my hair. I roll my eyes. 

“Uh-uh.” Again he shoves his thumb in the corner of my mouth to force it open and before I can get any protest out, his dick is in my mouth again. I’m no more ready for it but this time he thrusts shallowly. I press my tongue against the underside, feeling the vein pulse. The head of his cock presses on the roof of my mouth, testing the depth and smearing precum that coats my tongue with bitterness. When I hollow my cheeks he thrusts deeper, triggering my gag reflex just enough to fill my mouth with saliva. He pulls back for a moment before trying again. Going a bit deeper each time. I breathe through my nose, each inhale fills me with the achingly nostalgic scent of him. Finally, he pushes deep enough that I swallow around him. The sound he makes makes me aware of how painfully hard I am. 

His hand squeezes my shoulder and pushes me back against the wall. The position hurts my wrists but I rest my head back as he rolls his hips. His thighs press against my shoulders, one hand in my hair, the other braced against the wall. My jaw aches, my eyes tear up, a metallic taste mixes with the bitterness of his precum as the stretch reopens the split in my lip and the cuts inside my cheek. I moan around him, equal parts discomfort, frustration, and arousal. A sharp exhale from above me comes in time with a stutter in his rhythm.

I moan again, making sure he feels it. He pauses and I inhale slowly as he presses back into my mouth. I swallow as he hits the back of my throat, going deeper until my nose presses against him. He pulls out too quickly and I gag, lurching forward and sucking in a lungful of air.

“Fuck.” My voice is hoarse, saliva and blood drip down my chin. Chuuya pushes my hair back from my face, tilting my head so I look up at him.

“Ready?” His fingers in my hair, soft against my scalp, so at odds with how he’s touched me so far, send a shiver down my spine. I take a deep breath before nodding and resting my head back against the wall. I hold his gaze and open my mouth, split lip twinging with pain.

My mind is soon blank. Like Chuuya is fucking every thought from my head. 

Until it’s blissfully. 

Finally. 

Blank.

His cock pulses against my tongue and I gag, nasal passages burning and bitterness coating the back of my throat. Just as I gag again, he pulls out and I feel his cum stripe my face but I’m too focused on not puking to react. I cough a few times and spit before opening my eyes and looking up at Chuuya. I can see a string of cum hanging in my bangs; can feel more on my cheek.

“You missed,” I say weakly, my voice hoarse. Chuuya drops to his knees in front of me and roughly jams his thumb against a stripe of cum.

“Did I?” He slides his thumb up towards my eye and I clench it shut reflexively but it’s not enough. Some inevitably finds its way into my tear duct and spreads like fire. Tears flood my eye instantly and the sting intensifies.

“Christ, you sadistic little–” my insult is cut short by his mouth on mine. His lips too soft and yielding, his mouth too warm, the contrast so extreme. It’s disturbing how quickly he disarms me and has me kissing him back like we’re seventeen again. 

It’s too nostalgic. The slight sweet bitterness of cigarettes and the unmistakable taste of him bring back a flood of memories I thought I’d done a better job repressing. Memories of things he’s convinced meant nothing to me. My tongue slides past his lips, dragging across his to get as much from this as I can because I know. I know this is it. This is all I’ll get. When he pulls away he’ll walk back up those stairs and leave me behind him. He won’t look back. Why would he? We are nothing. 

…just what I wanted, right?