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The argument was stupid. It always was. But the damage has already been done, the words spilled out, the voices raised. And now, Atsushi is left to deal with the painful aftermath of the ordeal. The painful process of getting ignored by his partner.
Neither male have decided to apologize--but its no surprise. That is simply what happens when you pit two feral dogs against one another and expect them to make up, to swallow down their dignity and admit defeat.
But Akutagawa is playing a dangerous game. First, he locked Atsushi out of their shared bedroom, leaving him to sleep on the couch downstairs; so now Atsushis back hurts like shit and his neck threatens to crack every time he turns his head. Second, he made Ochazuke and finished it all before Atsushi got home from work; only leaving his dirty dishes behind for an outraged Atsushi to clean. And fourth, he forgot to wash the laundry when it was his turn.
All these things are so unlike Akutagawa, making Atsushi even more frustrated. Making him have enough. If Akutagawa is going to be like this, so be it. Atsushi would play the same dangerous game.
He casts a look at the clock from across the bed, smiling as the clock reads: 9:13 PM.
Perfect, he muses, making his way to his closet and flanking it open. Atsushi knows that the time right now is too early for Akutagawa to go to bed, which means that he’ll most likely find him reading a book downstairs in the living room. He also knows that the time right now is perfect to go to a bar, leading him to picking out a black cropped hoodie and his shortest and tightest pair of light blue jeans shorts that perfectly show of his ass.
Once he’s finished dressing up, he applies a perfume he knows will make any one’s nostrils flare, before making his way downstairs. Just as he’s planned, he finds Akutagawa longing on one of the beige sofas downstairs, a book in his hands as he faces Atsushi.
Atsushi makes a show of being very loud, making Akutagawas head snap up. Atsushi doesn’t look at the other, instead fixing his gaze on the door as he makes his way to the shoe rack, but he can feel the others burning gaze on his neck, making it prickle slightly. Still, he continues ignoring the other as he puts his sneakers on, making sure to bend his back a little to show of his ass.
“Where are you going?” Asks Akutagawa, his voice somehow cold and heated all at once. Jealousy. Akutagawa is jealous.
Atsushi opens the door, not bothering to look at Akutagawa. “Out.”
Suddenly, a pale hand slams the door shut. Atsushi tenses, swallowing as he feels Akutagawas presence behind him.
“Your not going anywhere dressed up like that,” Akutagawa says, his hot breathe tickling Atsushis neck.
Atsushi wants to say something, object. But no words leave his dry mouth as Akutagawa reaches a hand under his hoodie, tracing a finger from his stomach up to his chest before harshly squeezing his nipple. His whole body lurches and sets on fire, and it takes all his strength not to moan. He can’t give Akutagawa the satisfaction of knowing that he wants this, wants the others hands on his body even after their conflict.
“Not going to moan for me?” Akutagawa asks, and Atsushi can hear the sly smirk in his voice. Bastard. “I guess it’s going to take more than that.”
Suddenly, Akutagawa presses him against the wall, making him gasp as he feels the others hard member poking his ass. A moan slips from his mouth when Akutagawa palms his erection, making him finally lose it from the sensation of being trapped and touched everywhere.
Akutagawa groans in return, pressing himself harder against Atsushi, who’s body naturally arches into Akutagawas own. Akutagawa darkly chuckles as a needy and whiny Atsushi rubs his ass against his cock, showing just how much he wants this.
“So you do want me after all.”
“Shut u-up,” Atsushi wines, furious with himself for giving in so fast.
“Should we take this somewhere else?”
“Y-Yes…”
And that’s how Atsushi ends up bent over the kitchen counter, Akutagawa deep inside him as he harshly thrusts his member into him without remorse. Atsushi doesn’t know how long it’s been, but his naked body is full of sweat, and he doesn’t need to look to know that the kitchen counter is a mess because of his leaking cock.
Atsushi moans loudly at a particularly harsh trust to his prostrate, making Akutagawa grip his waste tighter. His watery eyes roll back as he sees stars with every thrust his ass receives.
“The next time you try to get fucked at a club,” Akutagawa says into his neck that is full of hickeys, making Atsushis back arch at the feeling of his hot breathe tickling his neck, “Remember the sore back and aching thighs that I’ll give you, hmm?”
All Atsushi can do is moan at this point, his mouth not able to form a proper sentence, much less a word.
The hot sensation in his belly grows stronger by the thrust. “I-I’m gonna— ahhh!~”
A particularly hard and fast thrust to his prostrate is all it takes for him to come all over the kitchen counter with a loud moan, his insides clenching around Akutagawas cock who comes inside him a few thrusts later, filling Atsushis hole to the brim with his seed. He whines, the feeling of being so full overwhelming his senses.
They stay like that for a couple of seconds, catching their breath as Akutagawa slowly pulls out his member from Atsushis pink puckered hole which drips with cum.
Atsushis sweaty body heaves with exhaustion, and he thinks he will be able to fall asleep right here on the kitchen counter. But it seems Akutagawa thinks otherwise as he throws him over his back like a sack of potatoes.
“Hey! What are you—“
“Did you think we where done?” Akutagawa asks, taking him upstairs, before gently laying him down on their shared bed. “We still have a long night ahead of us.”
———
When Atsushi limps into the office the next day, a scarf wrapped around his neck, Dazai laughs himself hoarse. Atsushi ignores him, his cheeks dusted pink as he sits at his desk, wincing slightly. Ranpo doesn’t miss it, smirking as he rests his head in his hand.
“Are you alright Atsushi?” He asks, fanning concern.
Atsushi grumbles an inaudible answer, making Dazai laugh even more.
“Stop laughing you shit stain! Do your work!” Kunikida shouts.
But Dazai continues to laugh, tears pricking the corner of his closed eyes.
“You know, Yosano can actually help you with your little— er— problem.”
At that, Yosano snaps her head up, hunger in her eyes at the idea of another victim. “Who needs help?”
“Atsu—“
“No one!” Atsushi shrieks, shoving his tomato colored face into his computer.
When Dazai finally stops laughing, he says, “Aren’t you feeling a little hot, Atsushi?”
The detective embarrassingly tugs at his scarf, making sure that it is covering everything Akutagawa produced last night. “No, I’m fine.”
God, he’s never getting into an argument with Akutagawa. Ever.