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Akutagawa panted heavily, averting his eyes from Dazai, consumed by a sense of mortification. The older man wore a familiar expression, one Akutagawa hadn't seen in four long years since their days in the port mafia basement. The mere sight of it now was unbearable, stirring a torrent of conflicting emotions within him. He had thought everything was fine—how foolish of him.
Dazai's grip tightened harshly around Akutagawa's hair, forcing him to meet his gaze. Despite the pain, Akutagawa struggled to maintain a facade of toughness, his eyes locking with his former mentor's in a defiant stare. A condescending smirk spread across Dazai's face as he aimed a brutal punch at Akutagawa. The impact sent him stumbling backward, blood spraying from his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, coughing violently.
Dazai stepped closer, placing his foot on Akutagawa's shoulder and slowly leaning down. "Akutagawa-kun, what was the first lesson I taught you?" Dazai asked in a deceptively gentle tone, a tone that had misled Akutagawa countless times. But not today.
"I don't remember," Akutagawa muttered. Dazai sighed, tilting his head in mock disappointment. "Wrong answer," he said, moving his foot from Akutagawa's shoulder and delivering a swift kick to his stomach. Akutagawa hissed in pain, clutching his stomach as he glared at Dazai through gritted teeth.
Dazai hummed a melody, crossing his arms. "Dogs that don't obey their master are useless." Akutagawa restrained himself from cursing at Dazai, refusing to let him believe he still held control. Slowly, he stood up, ignoring the bloodstains on his clothes.
"I'm not your dog," he said, his voice cracking. Dazai laughed, shaking his head. "You'll always be my dog."
"Who do you—"
Before Akutagawa could finish, Dazai's fist connected with his face, the sickening sound of his nose cracking echoing in the air. Tears welled up in Akutagawa's eyes, not from the physical pain, but from the sheer absurdity of the situation. He had been enjoying a peaceful day with his partner when Dazai had suddenly summoned him for an urgent mission. Now, he stood there, bloodied and broken, feeling the weight of Dazai's manipulative power crushing down on him once more.
He should have listened to Atsushi and stayed home. He could have been wrapped in his lover's arms, watching a movie neither of them were paying attention to. Instead, he was here, facing the same nightmare he thought he'd left behind. Dazai yanked him back to reality by grabbing his hair again.
"Akutagawa-kun, tell me one thing, did I allow you to see other people?"
Akutagawa huffed at the absurdity of the question, feeling his anger boiling over. "I don't need your—"
Dazai tightened his grip, pulling harder. "Just because I left the mafia doesn't mean you don't belong to me. You'll always be my possession, understood?" Akutagawa stared at him in utter surprise, unable to tell if Dazai was serious or not. The mix of emotions, from disbelief to rage, churned within him, leaving him speechless and conflicted.
"You have to be joking," Akutagawa uttered in disbelief, and Dazai laughed in response. "Ah, it seems my old methods don’t work anymore," he murmured quietly, more to himself than to Akutagawa.
Dazai released his grip on Akutagawa's hair and pushed him down onto the hard floor, seating himself on Akutagawa's lap. His lips curled into a menacing smirk as Akutagawa looked up at him, a flicker of fear in his eyes.
"What are you doing?"
Dazai's hand glided along Akutagawa’s chest, pausing at his jabot before pulling it off. Something clicked in Akutagawa’s mind, and he began to struggle, squirming helplessly under Dazai. This resistance only made Dazai's heart beat faster, a twisted fondness gleaming in his eyes.
"Ah, there it is," Dazai said softly, his voice laced with satisfaction. "That look on your face." Akutagawa realized it was futile; there was no escaping Dazai's grip. Swallowing his pride, he clutched Dazai’s shirt desperately.
“Please, don’t do it,” he pleaded, his voice trembling.
The older male chuckled mockingly, pressing his already hardened member against Akutagawa's. The younger male whimpered helplessly, his lips quivering, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Dazai took a strand of Akutagawa’s long hair between his fingers, twisting it gently. “You’re the prettiest when you’re begging,” he murmured, a cruel smile playing on his lips. Leaning down, he kissed Akutagawa’s forehead.
“I wouldn’t have to do this if you had just listened,” Dazai said softly, his tone almost tender. “But this will teach you a lesson.”
Akutagawa's body went limp as he gazed up at the flickering lights above. Thoughts of Atsushi filled his mind; his lover was probably worried, wondering why he wasn’t picking up his phone. If only he had listened to him and stayed home. Maybe none of this would be happening. Maybe.
Dazai scoffed, grabbing Akutagawa’s face with a firm hand and forcing him to meet his displeased gaze. "Stop thinking about him. He won’t save you. Not this time," Dazai said, his voice cold and tinged with undeniable jealousy.
Akutagawa's lips quivered as he stared at the ceiling, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and despair. The reality of his situation crashed down on him, and he felt the weight of Dazai’s control suffocating him. His thoughts were a jumble of regret and helplessness, each flicker of the overhead light magnifying his distress.
"I don’t understand you," Akutagawa whispered in a hushed tone, his voice trembling with confusion and fear. Dazai tilted his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. Akutagawa looked so vulnerable in this position, just as Dazai wanted him—just as he was meant to be.
"You belong to me; that’s all you need to understand," Dazai said, leaning down to connect their lips in a soft kiss. It was the gentlest touch Akutagawa had felt that night, a stark contrast to the brutality he had endured.
Silent tears began to stream down Akutagawa’s face, the emotional dam breaking as he finally surrendered to his helplessness. He closed his eyes, not kissing back but not pulling away either, knowing any resistance was futile. Dazai pulled away, his gaze lingering on Akutagawa's tear-streaked face with a fond smile. "Beautiful," he murmured, his voice dripping with a twisted affection.
Dazai’s touch softened briefly as he began to explore Akutagawa’s body with slow, intentional strokes. His fingers traced Akutagawa’s skin, setting the stage for what would come. The gentle, almost tender touch stood in stark contrast to the forceful actions that followed.
As his demeanor shifted, Dazai’s movements grew more calculated.
He began his penetrations with careful, measured thrusts, each one a clear display of his control. Akutagawa whimpered helplessly, pressing a hand to his mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle his sounds.
Dazai grinned at him, his breath coming in ragged gasps as sweat trickled down his face. He grabbed Akutagawa’s hand, forcefully pushing it above his head.
The younger man was overwhelmed by a mix of humiliation and despair, his physical pain blending with his emotional torment. But resistance was useless. After all, this was Dazai’s way of reasserting his dominance and reminding Akutagawa of his place.
Akutagawa's mind drifted back to Atsushi, to the peace and safety he felt in his arms. But that world seemed so far away now, overshadowed by Dazai’s oppressive presence. The flickering lights above seemed to mock his plight, casting eerie shadows that danced in tune with his despair.
As Dazai continued, Akutagawa’s thoughts grew distant. He clung to the hope that somehow, this nightmare would end, and he would be free from Dazai’s grasp. But for now, all he could do was endure, each tear that fell a silent testament to his suffering.