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The rumour travelling around Yokohama is hard to miss.
Dazai couldn’t believe it at first because it sounds too…abnormal for it to be true.
That and—this wasn’t like him.
Chuuya would have never done this.
At least, the Chuuya he knew four years ago wouldn’t have betrayed Mori like this but—that’s the thing—Dazai apparently doesn’t know Chuuya at all anymore.
People can change over a few years, right?
You think you know someone so well because you were partners but, after leaving, they just happen to surprise you in the most absurd way possible.
It’s almost comical when Dazai thinks about it.
The brunette’s chuckle is dark as he takes a sip from his glass of whiskey, closing his eyes at the taste of rich fruit and burnt wood on his tongue.
Nakahara Chuuya, the new boss of the Port Mafia.
The title tastes sour on his tongue, prompting him to take a larger sip of his drink to wash it down. It doesn’t feel right. At least, the way Chuuya became the boss doesn’t feel right on his tongue.
The classic slitting of the former boss’ throat while asleep.
It’s ironic how that’s the choice of method Chuuya decided to go with. It’s almost as if he’s trying to send some kind of signal to Dazai, calling out the brunette with a message that Dazai has yet to decipher.
Dazai glances around the bar, taking in the view of old furniture and the scent of something familiar that seems too distant for him to grasp and hold onto.
A small, sad smile lifts at the corner of Dazai’s mouth at the sheer memory of when he would come here to have a drink with--
Dazai shuts his eyes and swallows down a lump that he’s tried so hard to move on from.
Finishing off his drink, he places his tip and moves his head down into a bow to the bartender then he turns on his heels to push through the doors and heads towards his final destination.
He wonders if they’ve updated security since the last time he’s been there. Perhaps considering Chuuya is the new boss, he won’t be surprised if the security system is designed specifically to keep Dazai away from the base.
But, then again, Dazai wasn’t known as the Demon Prodigy for nothing. Maybe he can brush up on a few skills while he’s at it?
The walk to the buildings didn’t take long and as Dazai expected, the security was tailored to keep him away.
He should probably take that as a sign to turn around and leave.
That he’s the last person Chuuya wants to talk to or even see for that matter.
Dazai should feel even hurt by the fact that Chuuya went the extra mile to keep him away but…in a sick sort of twisted way…Dazai finds this all much too endearing if he’s being honest.
Because, even after four years without a single word uttered between them, the chibi still thought about Dazai.
He’s flattered.
Nostalgia kicks him in the guts as he walks down the hallways of the building. The image of old memories flashes behind his eyes when he glances around the walls and walks by the doors, one that used to hold his old office years ago.
The sun is starting to set, which means the hues of orange, red, and yellow spill through the large windows and paint the inside of the building a picture of emotions associated with the mafia that Dazai has tried to lock away for so long.
The place is silent around him, save for the sound of his shoes clicking against the tiles, that he feels like there’s nobody else here on purpose.
Maybe they just get to go home earlier now?
It’s not until he’s standing across from the boss’—well, Chuuya’s—door that he hesitates for a moment and he feels his chest squeezes tight with uncertainty.
Dazai can predict many things. Especially when it came to Chuuya, he would be able to plan out the redhead’s thoughts, actions, and words before Chuuya himself even knew what he was going to do.
But now, standing in front of the doors, knowing that Chuuya, the person he hasn’t seen in years, is right behind there—he doesn’t know how the redhead will react.
He expects anger. A fight is plausible. Chuuya might even go as far as to try to actually kill Dazai on the spot. He also expects Chuuya to be hurt. He knows Chuuya has been hurt, he wasn’t oblivious to how Chuuya felt when they were in the mafia.
And that’s the thing—he wasn’t so secretive about how he felt about Chuuya either, which made him defecting without a word even worse because he gave Chuuya false hope.
However, the major factor behind Dazai’s reluctance to open the door is his emotions.
Can he handle it?
Can he trust himself enough to stay controlled once he sets his gaze on sparkling blue eyes and fiery red hair?
Is he going to stay composed when he hears that voice again?
Dazai closes his eyes and breathes out heavily in frustration—he shouldn’t dwell upon those thoughts right now.
He’s already made it this far.
Are you going to turn your back on him again?
Dazai can’t help but let out a quiet snort at that thought.
The door is unlocked when he reaches for it, and his heart rate spikes at the sound of the door opening and his legs move on autopilot as he enters the office.
He’s almost surprised that no flying knives or pens are hurtling towards his direction.
His eyes are still on the floor and for a second he’s wondering if Chuuya is even in the office right now.
But then, Dazai’s head moves and his eyes flicker towards the desk and—
Blue eyes meet brown and everything around Dazai feels like it comes to a stop, blurred from his vision as he locks his gaze with the man sitting across from him.
His ex-partner and now the new boss.
His old best friend. The one person who wasn’t afraid of him. Who was able to challenge him.
The person Dazai deliberately hurt years ago.
Chuuya’s eyes scan over Dazai’s body and the brunette feels like Chuuya is tearing him open to trying to figure out why he’s here.
The thing that strikes pure shock in Dazai the most is the lack of response from the redhead. He can’t even see a twitch in his facial muscles to give away any kind of emotions that are riling up inside Chuuya right now.
This…is not what Dazai expected.
Chuuya’s eyes are blank when he looks back into Dazai’s eyes and he’s the first one to break the silence, his tone flat and disinterested as he resumes the paperwork he has laid out on his desk.
“I see you’ve managed to break through the security—looks like they need an upgrade.”
Dazai’s jaw clenches at how…unfazed Chuuya sounds.
Dazai swallows and takes another step inside, “You made it quite easy to break into.”
Chuuya hums thoughtfully, still not looking at Dazai, and his voice is sharp that splits straight through the air in front of Dazai, “Why are you here?”
A million reasons why he’s here that Dazai will never say out loud.
Another step forward, “I wanted to see if it was true.”
Chuuya quirks a brow as he stamps something in a folder and tosses it, “What?”
Dazai licks his lips tentatively, “That you became the new boss.”
The redhead nods his head of approval, “And you know I can have you dead within a minute with you showing up here, right?”
He knows.
Even without Chuuya’s ability the redhead can fold Dazai’s body into a pretzel within a blink of an eye.
Dazai forces out a playful chuckle and grazes the pads of his fingers over the edge of Chuuya’s desk—he takes notes that it’s new, most likely because Chuuya probably got rid of Mori’s desk.
Dazai’s eyes drift from the mahogany furniture to Chuuya’s head and finally, Chuuya lifts his head to meet Dazai’s gaze with a tired stare but—Dazai merely lets out a small smile, “You say that but,” Dazai shrugs and tilts his head, confident, “you never stay true to your words.”
Dazai can see the flare in Chuuya’s nose and a single vein pop out on his head, “You got what you were looking for,” Chuuya gestures towards the door with one hand, “you can leave now.”
Dazai clicks his tongue, “Chuuya is bad at being a boss.”
Chuuya’s eye twitches as he glares at Dazai, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not assertive enough nor scary. I’m surprised you got people here to actually listen to you.”
What?
Both of Chuuya’s eyebrows go up in disbelief, “Brave of you to be saying that to my face.”
Dazai shrugs nonchalantly, stepping slowly around the desk to get closer to Chuuya, “It’s just tough criticism.”
Chuuya’s lips press into a thin line as he watches Dazai get closer and he’s long forgotten his work because he does not want to add to his growing headache from the bastard’s presence, “Funny, I don’t remember asking for your input.”
The tension is thick in the air, filled with so many words and emotions from the two of them but neither of them knows how to say it out loud or show it.
And it’s funny how easy it is for them to fall back in the routine of bickering and throwing insults at each other as if it was as easy as breathing air.
Even if the air is tainted with smoke and bitterness between them—they’ve managed to survive in it for this long.
Dazai’s now standing right in front of Chuuya, looking down at him and Chuuya hates the sight of it.
He should be the one looking down on Dazai—not the other way around.
“Then show me otherwise, boss,” the way Dazai says the last word reeks of mockery. It sounds like Chuuya doesn’t even deserve the title with how it sounds and it makes fury spike in his veins.
Chuuya’s voice is level and firm with the force of asserting power behind it, “Leave before I make your head the new centrepiece for my desk.”
Dazai braces his palm against the edge of the desk and leans his weight into it, aiming Chuuya an amused smirk, “Aggressive but not convincing. Try again.”
Chuuya scoffs and looks at Dazai like the man had the audacity to say that out loud.
Chuuya straightens from his chair, making it roll away and he sharpens his eyes towards the brunette and gets closer, “Get. Out.”
Dazai snorts, “Really? That’s your best attempt?”
Chuuya rolls his eyes and groans—
God, he’s still such a fucking brat.
In one, swift movement, Chuuya yanks onto Dazai’s hair and smashes his face against his desk and he leans over so his mouth is near Dazai’s ear, “Is that convincing enough for you?”
Dazai’s bent over with his cheek firmly pressed against the cool surface of Chuuya’s desk, but he still manages to look back at Chuuya with a smug grin plastered on his face, “You’re getting there.”
Chuuya’s nose flares and adds more pressure onto Dazai’s head to the point where he can see the other man wince in pain—
Good.
Fucking bastard.
Chuuya stifles a heavy sigh and he can see goosebumps rise on Dazai’s exposed neck when he speaks near his ear, “Are you going to tell me why you’re here or do I need to throw you out of the window?”
Dazai’s voice is nothing short of cocky, “Chuuya isn’t that generous to grant me such a gift of death so willingly.”
Chuuya clicks his tongue and leans back and lets go of Dazai’s hair, “You underestimate me, I have no problem ripping your trachea out and using it as a new pencil holder.”
“Ooh, kinky,” Dazai teases with a wink as he starts to move and get up—
But Chuuya is quick with his legs as he lifts one high and the bottom of his foot presses hard onto Dazai’s shoulder to keep him still, earning him a quiet gasp from the brunette.
Chuuya huffs out a dry chuckle and crosses his arms, his gloved fingers digging into his arms with impatience and fury, “We both know you didn’t have to come all the way here to confirm that I’m the new boss, so answer me,” Chuuya digs his heels even further into Dazai’s shoulder blade, “why are you here?”
There’s a brief moment where Dazai’s eyes change into an expression that Chuuya is way too uncomfortable with seeing, but it’s gone within a blink of an eye and Dazai’s whole expression shifts into a mask that Chuuya has seen him wear all too well, “Can’t I just want to see the chibi’s beautiful face again?”
Chuuya snorts incredulously, “I don’t have time to hear your lies right now.”
Dazai’s eyes glaze over Chuuya’s body and he pulls his eyebrows down in slight determination—
What if it wasn’t a lie though?
What would you do?
“Chuuya,” Dazai flashes him an empty grin as he pushes the previous thoughts somewhere back in his mind, “when was the last time we’ve done something together?”
Chuuya’s brows draw into a disinterested look and hums in fake contemplation, “Since you left without a word four years ago.”
There’s a heavy amount of emotions and bite behind that statement that’s unquestionably meant for Dazai to catch onto but he doesn’t say anything about it.
He doesn’t know how to address that…not yet.
“Hm, so it’s been a while then, no?” Dazai blinks towards Chuuya in a subtle suggestive way and Chuuya merely scoffs in disbelief and lifts his foot off and sits back onto his chair, crossing his arms and leaning back and—
He doesn’t look like he belongs on that chair.
It’s too tainted for Chuuya’s body to touch. It’s not right.
“What are you getting at, Dazai?” Chuuya’s voice sounds disinterested but Dazai can tell it masks curiosity behind it.
Dazai shrugs and winces as he straightens his back and rolls his shoulders, “I’m already here and you have yet to make a threat believable enough to make me leave,” Dazai explains as he finishes cracking his neck and leans against the edge of Chuuya’s desk, “we can still make use of my presence being here.”
Chuuya's eyebrows arch and his body feels slightly warm, from irritation or intrigue, he doesn’t know.
Chuuya’s smile is thin, “Like you working for me?”
Dazai’s blood runs cold at the implication of him working in the Port Mafia again.
He left for a reason.
He can’t go back and cause all that mess with Chuuya for nothing.
But ah, then again, Mori was the boss at that time…everything is different now.
Maybe working for Chuuya would be different as well.
Is it bad that he’s already contemplating it?
Dazai slowly inches closer to the redhead, dancing the tips of his fingertips on the surface of furniture that screams money, “I’m sure you would rather someone more loyal than an ex-mafia traitor to work under you, no?”
Chuuya inclines his head, acknowledging that statement as a fact, “Then what other purpose do you serve for me?”
“I’m sure being the boss is a stressful title to uphold,” Dazai muses, merely inches away from Chuuya to the point where he can feel the heat radiating from the redhead’s body.
Chuuya snorts and shakes his head, growing a bit tired of this conversation, “Yeah, no shit it’s stressful, tell me something new.”
A meagre smile tug at the corner of Dazai’s mouth, “I can help with that.”
Chuuya squints his eyes as he scans Dazai’s face for any indication that he’s joking about this but…he doesn’t find any, or at least, he can’t find anything.
Is he serious right now?
Chuuya chuckles lowly and tilts his head with his smile hardly reaching his eyes, “I’m not letting you fuck me if that’s where you’re going at.”
“Who said anything about me fucking you?”
That causes one of Chuuya’s eyebrows to span up in interest.
It’s wrong—so wrong.
Doing this—whatever this is—will only complicate things.
Make whatever fucked up relationship they have even worse.
Chuuya doesn’t even know if he can afford the unwanted feeling to surge back up if he entertains that idea.
They shouldn’t do this.
Chuuya licks his bottom lips, “You’re saying you came all the way here to get fucked?” and when Dazai’s expression doesn’t change, Chuuya can’t help but laugh a little, “You’re telling me that you risked your life stepping onto Port Mafia territory because you’re too much of a slut for my dick?”
Sudden heat blooms inside Dazai’s stomach and he swallows down whatever emotion he has bubbling on his tongue, “Do you really care for an honest answer right now? When you can use your time for something else?”
Dazai can see the gears working in Chuuya’s head, then he lets out a snort and reaches for a drawer under his desk to pull out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, “You’re a fucking whore, you know that.”
Dazai smirks knowingly, “So are you.”
Chuuya gives Dazai one last look, an opportunity for either of them to back out before this situation escalates into something that neither of them can go back from.
Are they seriously going to do this?
Chuuya reluctantly reaches into his drawer to pull out a bottle and tosses it to Dazai in which the brunette barely manages to catch. Dazai then shoots Chuuya a questioning stare and the redhead merely places a cigarette between his lips and lights it to life using the lighter, then leans back into his chair.
The smoke is grounding as it travels down his throat and fills his lungs before he’s exhaling a cloud of grey and crosses his legs, “Since you’re so eager to get fucked,” Chuuya shrugs and lightly taps the butt of his cigarette, “I’m not going to do all of the work for you.”
At first, Dazai thinks Chuuya is joking but—the way the redhead is looking at him with expectant eyes and he doesn’t seem like he’s getting off his seat so soon—
He’s dead serious.
Dazai’s throat feels dry when he swallows and he dangles the bottle of lube, “How do you want me to do this?”
A smirk that belongs to a demon spreads across Chuuya’s face and right at that moment, for a very brief moment, he looks like someone fit to be the boss of the mafia.
Maybe Dazai just doesn’t want to acknowledge the new power Chuuya has.
Why? He can’t manage to work through that thought right now, not when he has cold, blue eyes staring through his body and his bones might break under Chuuya’s gaze.
Chuuya takes another drag and Dazai watches the smoke spiral from his mouth, and Chuuya’s voice is a bit gravelly when he speaks, “I want you fuck yourself with your fingers like the whore that you are.”
Those words cause Dazai’s chest to swirl with heat and his heart rate rises exponentially.
Fuck.
He looks around, trying to figure out the best position to do this until his eyes land back onto Chuuya’s desk and—
It’s the perfect surface to give Chuuya a full view of Dazai’s ass.
He’s really about to do this.
He feels so.. dirty doing this like he’s some cheap stripper and yet, his body and heart are telling him that this is what he wants to do.
So, he starts to take off his pants, his face burning with heat with Chuuya’s eyes not leaving his body throughout the whole thing.
When his pants are at his ankles, he looks at Chuuya and the man simply nods towards Dazai’s underwear, “We don’t have all day.”
Right.
Dazai turns and heaves a heavy breath, the smell of tobacco fills his nose as he bends over Chuuya’s desk and lifts his hips so his ass is in the air.
His mind is at a tug of war between arousal and embarrassment as he slowly slides his underwear down and his breath hitches at the sudden contact of cool air against his skin.
He feels like some needy person who is desperate to do whatever Chuuya says just so he can have some kind of contact with the redhead again, even if it’s not the one he truly craves for.
But…he also likes the feeling of knowing that Chuuya is watching him as he puts on a show for him. He likes the feeling of touching himself with Chuuya’s eyes scorching through his skin, how wanting and slutty he looks on display like this.
It’s shameful and exciting at the same time.
The lube feels icy cold on his fingers, a massive contrast to how much he’s flaming inside.
He circles his middle finger around his rim and he initially clenches up at the sheer reminder that Chuuya is watching and his face is so damn red—
With a deep breath, Dazai rests his head on his arm in front of him and closes his eyes as he tries to imagine himself at home and what he usually does to himself to get off.
The first break inside causes his breath to still in his chest and he’s biting onto his lips to hold back a moan once his whole finger is inside. His eyebrows furrow in concentration as he slowly moves his finger, trying to adjust to the small stretch of it.
But then, he suddenly jolts when he hears Chuuya clicks his tongue in a disapproving tone and he nearly forgot that he’s there.
“I want to hear you.”
Crap.
Dazai lets out a muffled whimper and takes another deep breath when he prepares himself to add in another finger.
The stretch is a little painful, sending a shocking bolt of heat up his spine which causes Dazai to let out a gasp.
Chuuya’s chuckle is throaty, mostly due to the cigarette that’s been taking over his body this whole time, “Don’t hold back on me now, we both know you’re always been a loud slut whenever I fucked you before.”
He knows that. It’s just…
Different now.
Everything about this isn’t how it used to be, the air between them wasn’t how it was before.
But—
He also wants Chuuya to enjoy this just as much and he’s already deep into this shit so—
Once both fingers are deep inside, he starts to rotate and move his wrist and his breathing is notably heavier now.
It’s not until he curls his fingers against his prostate that Dazai spills out a loud moan and heat rapidly grows inside his stomach with his cock now fully hard.
“There we go,” Chuuya purrs, clearly enjoying the view of having the Dazai Osamu—
The most feared man in Yokohama.
The guy even Mori was scared of.
The former Port Mafia executive—
Willingly bent over Chuuya’s desk and fingering himself just for Chuuya to see.
It’s funny how things work out for you, isn’t it?
The stretch is good, especially when he’s scissoring himself to open his hole up nice and ready for Chuuya’s cock but--
Because his fingers are thick, the third finger is enough to be borderline painful but the way he stretches around his fingers feels so good as well but it doesn’t fill him all the way.
There are still gaps and a small bit of emptiness that only Chuuya’s cock can fill.
Dazai lets out a whimper that has a tinge of neediness to it in which Chuuya can detect clearly and the boss smirks. Chuuya takes the last hit before he’s discarding his cigarette onto the ashtray and sits back to enjoy the view of Dazai subtly wiggling his ass and letting out whiny moans, a clear message that he wants to be fucked but the bastard won’t say it out loud.
Chuuya sighs in amusement, “You want something, Dazai?”
“You know—” Dazai cuts himself off with a choked moan when he brushes his fingers against his prostate again, “what I want.”
Chuuya hums in an almost condescending tone, “Do I?”
“Yes,” Dazai groans out, his patience wearing thin and the tight coil of heat in his stomach is only growing by the second.
“What is it that you want, Dazai?”
Dazai grits his teeth as he continues to finger fuck himself because he knows that Chuuya knows what he wants and he won’t give it until he—
Until he begs.
Shit.
Swallowing down any pride he has left, he arches his back so his ass is in the air at the perfect angle that he knows Chuuya loses his mind over and pants, “I want you inside me.”
Chuuya’s eyebrows go up, “Inside you?”
Dazai bites his bottom lip, “…Please.”
“Please, what?”
Dazai curses under his breath and the heat travels to his brain, his head becoming foggy with want and clouding out any shame he had left, “Please…boss.”
The chuckle that rips out of Chuuya is low but heavy with satisfaction, “I kinda like how that name sounds coming from your mouth.”
Dazai forces himself to bite down a remark for that because the desire to have Chuuya filling him is growing hotter and needier by the second.
He hears some shuffling behind him and the presence of Chuuya’s body behind him, which causes Dazai’s heart rate to soar with eagerness.
The sound of foil being ripped open catches Dazai’s attention and he’s already panting and almost breathless from his fingers sliding inside him, yet, he still tries to sound controlled and smug, “You keep condoms in your office?”
Chuuya hums and grabs a fistful of Dazai’s hair to force the man to turn his head and look up at Chuuya, and the first thing that Dazai notices is how dark Chuuya’s eyes are—they’re almost black.
“You think you’re the only pretty thing that I fuck in here?”
Chuuya’s voice takes over him like hands with sharp claws, shredding Dazai’s chest with the pain of jealousy that he’s trying to ignore because—
He doesn’t deserve to feel that way.
Not when he was the one who left Chuuya.
Cold hands grab onto his wrist and snatch his hand out of his hole and Dazai whimpers at the sudden loss and the feeling of being empty.
There’s an amused and dark chuckle from behind, “You’re such a needy slut, always whining for something inside you, huh?”
Dazai shudders at those words mixed with the skin contact of Chuuya’s hands finally being on him.
It’s been so damn long.
Chuuya’s grip is hard on Dazai’s hips and he’s slightly convinced that part of the harsh grip has some kind of suppressed emotions behind it—but Dazai doesn’t get to think about that—not when he feels something thicker and hotter gliding between his ass and he’s exhaling a trembling breath.
Dazai pushes his hips back to feel more but Chuuya’s hold on him is strong and he can hear a growl from behind, “Say it again.”
Dazai whines wordlessly because he’s growing more impatient at not having something inside him after working himself up for this, and Chuuya is just there, taunting him, bringing out a side of him that he barely lets anyone see.
Well, except Chuuya.
Dazai huffs out a breath to let everything go, “Please.”
For a second there’s silence, but then Dazai lets out a yelp when Chuuya digs his fingers into his skin that it’s painful and he knows there’s going to be nasty bruises there soon.
“What was that?” the sound of a violent threat lingers in Chuuya’s voice and Dazai inhales heavily, his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and the weight of Chuuya’s cock is the only thing on his mind right now—
“Please, boss.”
That earns him a satisfied groan from the redhead and the tip of his cock presses against Dazai’s rim, “Again.”
The command from Chuuya’s voice, the way it sounds just right for…a boss…is what makes Dazai relax and his chest fill with determination, “Please—fuck me, boss.”
He can’t see it but Chuuya has this wicked smirk on his face as he positions himself and finally, finally, the tip of his cock pushes in and Dazai’s eyes flutter and his mouth parts open.
Yes, yes, yes—it’s so good.
“Again.”
Chuuya is only halfway in and Dazai is already about to lose his mind, “Please boss, please fuck me, please I—!”
Dazai cuts himself off with a choked moan as Chuuya slams the rest of his cock inside, burying himself as deep as he can get that it feels like it’s reaching past Dazai’s lung and straight to his heart.
And suddenly, Dazai’s whole world comes to a halt and everything is just molten pleasure flowing inside him at the feeling of being full and satiated.
“You even beg like a whore,” Chuuya muses, the tinge of a moan drifts in his voice as he slides back out tantalizingly slow so that Dazai can feel every inch of Chuuya grazing against his walls.
The only response Dazai gives out is a whine and Chuuya can’t help but smirk when he feels Dazai clench around him.
Chuuya sets off at a hard, moderate pace, not giving Dazai enough time to adjust and he’s left there gasping for air and panting at the sudden overwhelming sensation of Chuuya’s cock slamming into him and glancing against his prostate.
It’s good—so, so damn good that Dazai can’t even control his moans that spills out of his mouth and colours the air, knowing damn well that he sounds like a slut.
Nobody has ever been able to fuck him like this, to fill every gap inside him and bring this amount of pleasure to flourish within him.
To know how to say the right words to spur him on into a spiralling frenzy of pleasure and heat and lust.
It’s only and always has been Chuuya.
As soon as Chuuya speeds up the pace, Dazai gasps and flings his arms to hold onto something for purchase but—
Chuuya’s hands work quick as he grabs onto both of Dazai’s wrists and pins them onto the desk, right above Dazai’s head, and Chuuya leans down to add weight to his hold and at this angle, somehow Chuuya’s cock can reach even deeper.
“If you’re going to sound and act like a slut,” Chuuya snarls beside Dazai’s ear, his voice vibrating and sending electricity through Dazai’s spine that he can’t help but suck in a shuddering breath, “I’m going to fuck you like one as well.”
Oh god.
Dazai moans and—Chuuya is ramming into him like he has no intention of stopping and his sinful words rolling through Dazai’s body make the white-hot pleasure overwhelm every one of Dazai’s senses.
Because of that, Dazai doesn’t even care that he’s rambling out a bunch of strangled words mixed with moans of ‘please’ and ‘boss’. Honestly, he’s saying whatever he can just to get Chuuya to go harder and faster; which he does.
The sounds of Chuuya’s body slamming against his pierces through the room and Dazai’s hiccuping moans only get louder—
“Keep your hands above your head,” Chuuya whispers into Dazai’s ear before he’s leaning back and hooking one hand behind Dazai’s knee to coax him to lift his leg onto the desk. Fortunately for him, his legs are long enough to reach and he’s at an angle where the head of Chuuya’s cock heads straight to his prostate and he’s milking Dazai senseless.
And Dazai—
He spasms and cries out loud.
That only prompts Chuuya to go even harder and Dazai’s not sure that the wetness on his cheeks is from sweat or his tears, his brain is long gone and somewhere in a place that it never wants to come back from.
Chuuya can’t even deny how satisfying it is that he gets to make Dazai scream like this. That he can have Dazai crumble under his voice alone and submit to him so easily.
It feeds on that small, tiny ball of possessiveness inside him knowing that nobody else can make Dazai like this—crying and moaning like a whore underneath him.
With a raspy groan, Chuuya slows down the pace just a bit so Dazai can be coherent enough to at least hear him, “I wonder what those agency fuckers will say if they ever see you like this.”
And he’s not surprised at the choked, wanting moan that Dazai lets out from that.
Chuuya chuckles and digs his fingers into Dazai’s skin, purposely leaving marks there, “Getting fucked like a slut by the boss of an enemy organization,” the last word gets punctuated with a hard thrust that has Dazai clenching fiercely around him—god he’s so fucking close, “begging me to bury my cock inside you,” Chuuya clicks his tongue, “you would like that though, wouldn’t you? The traitor of the Port Mafia being a cockslut—has a nice ring to it, no?”
Dazai swallows and his thighs are trembling, but he still manages to let out a whine in agreement because yes, the thrill of everyone knowing that to some extent, he still belongs to Chuuya and would only let himself go like this for him.
It sends an electrifying pleasure of being owned down his spine.
Dazai squeezes his eyes shut when Chuuya picks up the pace again and it feels like every slam of Chuuya’s hips against his ass knocks the air out of him, resulting in only shattered, hiccuping pants to escape Dazai’s mouth.
He’s practically dangling near the edge of the cliff, ready to head face-first into a powerful orgasm, he just needs that extra push because his cock is throbbing against the desk that it almost hurts and he knows for sure Chuuya won’t let him touch it.
“Chuuya I—!” Dazai’s words get cut short with a shocked gasp and his ass is left with a lingering stinging sensation of Chuuya’s gloved hands smacking him hard, and he’s met with a dissatisfied snarl from the man that’s fucking him senseless.
“You wanna try that again?”
Dazai sucks in a sharp breath and his heart roars in his ears, “Boss,” in which Dazai is rewarded with a satisfying thrust that has Chuuya’s cock lodge towards his prostate, and he’s sure that there’s tears welling at the corner of his eyes, “I’m close.”
Good, because Chuuya is barely holding on, he’s walking on a very thin line and not even manipulating gravity will stop him from tumbling down.
Not when Dazai is making the lewdest noises with his mouth and he’s almost impossibly tight around him.
Fuck.
The brutal speed that Chuuya has set causes Dazai’s entire being to be reduced to just Chuuya’s cock inside him. He can’t even feel the desk underneath him or the painful grip Chuuya’s hands are around his hips.
“You’re so desperate that you can only cum from my cock, huh?” Chuuya chuckles and it’s uncontrolled and throaty, a testament to how much he’s also affected by this.
And Dazai can’t help but keen at the thought that he can still affect Chuuya.
Dazai’s toes curl when the tight coil in the pit of his stomach is about to ignite into flames of pleasure and he’s unsure if he’s even able to get any sounds out at all, just a bunch of pants and whimpers as the feeling of being used as some sex toy for Chuuya is the only thought he can register.
One, two, three more thrusts and Chuuya’s cursing under his breath and his rhythm falters as his orgasm crashes over him.
It’s the sound of Chuuya’s moan that does it for Dazai and he’s almost sobbing when he cums, hard, it’s like fireworks are exploding inside him and it’s undeniably one of the most exhilarating orgasms he’s had in a while.
He can’t hear or see anything, but he can feel Chuuya’s cock fucking him through his orgasm and god—it’s so fucking intense it has Dazai spasming and emitting pants and he has to stay there and take it until Chuuya lets him go.
Dazai doesn’t know how long it takes for his senses to come back to him. For him to stop convulsing and for his breathing to level out again.
He doesn’t even register Chuuya slipping out at first, not until cold air fans against his abused hole and he’s sucking in a harsh breath at the realization that he’s now empty.
By the time Dazai’s mind has enough energy to tell his legs to move and he’s straightening up—wincing at how sore and achy his whole body feels— he turns out to see that Chuuya has already discarded the condom, his pants up and lounging in his chair with another cigarette lit between his lips.
If it wasn’t for the small beads of sweat shining on his head and the smell of sex in his office, you wouldn’t have been able to tell that he just fucked someone through their soul.
He looks completely composed—like a boss would for a powerful organization.
Dazai snorts, dazed by all of this, as he zips up his pants and runs a hand through his hair—which is a bit damp from sweat—and glances over Chuuya’s body.
Maybe Dazai was wrong about his judgement.
Chuuya arches a challenging brow as he blows out a pattern of smoke through his nose, “Was that ‘assertive’ enough for you?”
The surprised chuckle that erupts from Dazai is almost genuine, “You still need some work.”
Chuuya exhales an annoyed breath and rolls his eyes, “Even after all of that you’re still a brat.”
Dazai hums and flashes him a teasing wink, “Guess that means you need to show me your improvement then, hm?”
Chuuya pauses and turns to narrow his eyes towards the brunette and his voice is firm, “You would need to work hard for that to happen.”
Dazai cocks his brows in acknowledgment and a smirk curls at the corner of his mouth, “Lucky for you the agency made me a hard-working man.”
That’s a lie.
Dazai has reached his burnout and would rather sell his left leg than do the paperwork for the ADA but—
He is determined to do whatever it takes. To be patient and work towards slowly inserting himself back into Chuuya’s life.
It’ll take a while and a lot of work but he’s not letting this go…not again.
He barely survived the first time he left Chuuya.
Chuuya sneers like he doesn’t believe Dazai, and Dazai chooses to ignore that as he glances at the furniture he was just bent over and fucked on, “Your desk area is a mess.”
Chuuya shrugs as he turns the stick between his lips, “I have assistants that will clean that up.”
Dazai purses his lips into a thin and thoughtful line and nods, then his eyes flicker back to meet Chuuya’s and for a second, he can see some kind of emotion behind those blue orbs—like Chuuya wants to say something but won’t. However, it’s gone within a blink of an eye and Chuuya’s demeanour is back to something more distant and cold, “You want something?”
“…” Dazai blinks himself out of whatever thought process he’s in and stifles a sigh with a shrug, “Are you expecting to see me again?”
Chuuya squints his eyes, inhaling the smoke and considering Dazai’s question as he feels the burn inside his body.
It’s a question that gives Chuuya full control on how their—whatever this shit is between them—will continue after today.
He has the power to say ‘no’ and Dazai might actually never show up again and that…Chuuya doesn’t know if he’s able to deal with that outcome yet.
At least when Dazai left years ago, there was always that chance—that possibility—that he would come back. And he did.
But now, Chuuya can tell him to fuck off and this will be it.
They may never willingly cross paths again.
Is he ready for that?
Once the smoke leaves his body, so does his answer. Chuuya hardens his stare and Dazai feels like Chuuya’s eyes alone can cut his throat—
He did adjust to being the boss of the mafia after all.
“Get your shit together before you step foot back into this place.”
The end of Dazai’s mouth lifts slightly and unexpected warmth grows like roots inside his chest, crawling its way to every inch of his body.
And what Dazai does next is something that Chuuya did not expect, something that catches him completely off guard and he falters for a second.
Dazai bows his head as a sign of respect—or maybe he’s mocking him and Chuuya is thinking too much about it—and mutters in an almost sincere tone, “Yes, boss.”
In one, abrupt motion, Dazai is already turning on his heels to leave Chuuya’s office while Chuuya is sitting there—tongue-tied with his mouth parted in bewilderment and his cigarette long forgotten—as he watches Dazai saunter through the massive brown doors.
Maybe things have changed with Dazai and Chuuya doesn’t know if it was for better or for worse…
He’ll just have to find out the next time he sees him.