Chapter Text
The morning at the Armed Detective Agency had gone by pretty slowly; all its members still in the building as no important cases had been assigned yet. The room was quiet, the papers on the desks having been left behind as the members went for lunch at the cafe downstairs, like they had frozen in time. The windows were still open, letting a slight breeze flow through, though the air wasn't cold nor hot, a pleasant mix in between. The early daylight was shining from the blinds onto the desks, showering the room with a bright color that made it look alive even though no one was in it. Everyone had gone to eat and take a break, except—
"Ah— Chuuya—"
"Be quiet!" Whisper-shouted said man. They were currently trying to battle their own selfish instincts and miserably failing at it. Screw being two grown adults. Chuuya quickly moved his hand to cover Dazai's mouth, trying to not let any other noise possibly be heard, god forbid. "We're in this situation because you couldn't wait to be back home, so shut your mouth and just take it, goddamn it—Ah!" He covered his own mouth with his free hand and shot a furious look at Dazai, who had just purposely shot his hips forward to meet his clothed hard crotch halfway. Chuuya gritted his teeth and mumbled— "You asshole."
"You love it." His grin was unwavering, no matter the position he was in right now.
Chuuya had wanted to try and be discreet, but when he answered Dazai's call that morning and came through the window (as per request, he'd never be that unclassy), he hadn't expected Dazai to literally tackle him to the desk as soon as he laid foot on the ground. Now, they had turned over—Dazai lay with his back on the desk, legs spread to let Chuuya fit in between them, papers and pens and whatever else was on that table be damned. The other man had been slowly making his way toward Dazai's neck when the dumbass had decided to moan like every single one of his coworkers weren't literally two flights of stairs beneath them. (In hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this—but there’s no turning back now.)
Chuuya tried recomposing himself, as much as he could anyways, and got back to where he was. He carefully started sliding the hand on Dazai's mouth down, seemingly taking it off—moving his eyes to meet Dazai's own—then he forced his fingers between his lips and into his mouth. Dazai's body shot up lightly and his throat made a sound similar to that of someone who was choking and liking it. "Now be quiet. You don't wanna be hung up until tonight, do you?" He asked, already aware of the answer.
Dazai slowly shook his head left to right, his pupils dilating as he made room for Chuuya's fingers. His eyes almost fully black now as he started to lick and suck on them slowly, tongue moving in motions he knew by heart at this point, creating sounds so vulgar Chuuya would've felt embarrassed had this not been Dazai.
The man took that as permission to get back on track. As he moved forward he kindly shoved one of Dazai's legs up and closer to his chest, his free hand slowly caressing the inside of his leg while his mouth was already hovering over his neck (finally). As soon as he licked and started putting pressure onto his carotid artery, Dazai let out a low whine that reverberated through Chuuya's fingers, the sound arousing him but also making him incredibly aware of where exactly they were right now. The thought quickly abandoned his mind as he could feel himself grow impatient.
He kept leaving tender kisses all over his neck, creating marks way too high for comfort not even the bandages would be able to cover up later—the sounds now increasing in quantity, fortunately not in volume, yet. Chuuya kept licking every place he bit and sucked on, creating that light friction that made Dazai shiver under him. He then moved his hand, deciding he had tortured Dazai's leg enough, and went to very slowly unbutton Dazai's pants, making it an even worse torture than the little leg massages had been. Buckle now open, he firmly made his way downward, once again keeping eye contact as he kept moving, his hand creeping closer to the place Dazai had been intensely staring at with half lidded eyes for the past two minutes—though they had now moved to stare back at Chuuya. The man started lifting his boxers—just to take his hand back up and instead move it under Dazai's shirt in a swift, warm motion.
He let out a frustrated groan which he took back as soon as Chuuya started tugging on some bandages hidden underneath his shirt to reach what he was looking for, already knowing he had permission to peek under. He grinned, lips back to working on Dazai's neck as he started moving his hand up and down his stomach, creating a motion that connected all the sensitive places Chuuya knew Dazai loved (he'd had lots of time to practice and figure out).
As soon as he made it to his nipples and started moving his hand in circles, he saw Dazai's body shoot up, choking a little on Chuuya's fingers in the process, and held onto the others neck—Dazai's chest was definitely one of his most sensitive places, since it was the place most covered in bandages at all times. Chuuya felt one of Dazai's hands reach into his hair, the motion relaxing at first, his long nails—that he loved to let grow in the periods where he felt like bottoming the most—scraping at his scalp in such a tender way Chuuya could almost fall asleep, a low sigh leaving his lips, until he pulled. Chuuya let out an unsurprisingly annoyed (yet very pleased) whine he hadn't been able to hold back in time, and shot a look at Dazai who probably tried to say some snarky remark in return but couldn't—his mouth smiling but still occupied by Chuuya's now wet fingers.
Feeling generous enough, Chuuya took his fingers out slowly, one by one, sliding them off Dazai's tongue to hear what the bastard had to say. Honestly felt even more accomplished as he saw the brief disappointment in Dazai's face as his mouth started feeling empty little by little, but regained (what he could of) his composure at the realization that he could now speak freely again. "Didn't Chuuya say to be quiet? That sounded like the noise of a hypocrite to me~" He said whilst pulling Chuuya closer with his arms, enough to be almost whispering the words directly into his ear, trying to mask his slight tremor for confidence.
Chuuya flushed involuntarily and let out an annoyed groan that, to his displeasure, didn't sound as annoyed as he wished it had. As much of a bother this was, he really had been enjoying the moment—the feeling of having Dazai under him, acting powerless knowing damn well he wasn't but still pretending to be for whatever reason, the sounds of pleasure he made whenever Chuuya touched a spot too sensitive for his delight, the way his body sprawled over the desk and his disheveled hair spread out onto it like a plate Chuuya has had enough to savor, the—
They both instantly tensed.
Faint steps of a group of people coming up the stairs could be clearly heard through the door.
The two shared a quick look and locked into motion, ironically almost as if their brains viewed the current situation as a mission, a life or death situation (might as well have been); Chuuya got up and started picking up his jacket and fixing his clothes, Dazai slid off the desk and worked on pulling up his pants, fixing his shirt, fixing his— Ugh! Chuuya had made a complete mess of him.
Meanwhile the group had clearly reached the second round of stairs and were getting overwhelmingly close, even their conversation now clearly coming through. Dazai—still looking a mess—pushed Chuuya toward the window frantically, "Jump out!"
"What?! Are you serious—"
"Yes! Gosh, just jump out Chuuya, you can literally fly!"
"Okay—geez! I'm going, just don't be too obvious when they get here," Whispered the man as he gave Dazai a knowing look whilst making sure nobody under the building would see him jump out— "Love you!" —and then leapt off.
A small, tender smile formed on Dazai's face as he sighed with relief that lasted exactly two seconds before his mind got back on track and remembered he still had a… visible problem going on down there. He quickly pulled the chair that had been moved back to its original place and sat down, hoping to hide his still—for whatever reason—present erection.
He looked around the room to make sure none of the disarray they had just caused was still visible when he saw Chuuya's gloves sitting at the edge of the desk, he made a quick move to pick them up and—
"Dazai?" Questioned Kunikida, a tired look already sitting on his face.
"Did you not go eat lunch Mister Dazai?" Asked Kenji, tilting his head to the side.
Dazai tried recomposing his expression and posture whist he carefully hid the gloves under his vest as sneakily as possible and answered his coworkers, or at least tried to because—
"Oh, he ate alright, no need to worry about that." Said, of course, Ranpo.
Dazai stared him down with a look all the way until the man sat and went back to his desk, shrugging. He was still staring him down when he started eating a lollipop and opened his eyes, looking at Dazai's neck, grinning all the while.
Dazai almost jumped at the realization and put on his coat as nonchalantly as possible, though the hurried way in which he did was not lost in the others eyes, then closed it all the way up before anyone could notice anything going on under it.
"Why are you acting so weird?" Asked a mildly worried Yosano, an eyebrow raised.
"You mean weirder than usual?" Continued the still incredibly suspicious Kunikida, giving Dazai the perfect opening to redirect the attention.
He stared at the man, a beat of silence passing through them, then— "I threw out all of Kunikidas pens."
"Dazai!?—"
---.𖥔 ݁˖ ݁𖥔.---
The days after passed truly uneventfully. Dazai could feel himself combust from boredom—not even annoying Kunikida was as entertaining lately, especially ever since he had experienced what actual… rush, felt like.
(He and Chuuya had finished off what they had left behind at home, of course, he had loved it —of course— but the adrenaline of that moment had sadly worn off.)
He had been dozing off on the couch as usual, zoning out as Kunikida screamed at deaf ears to do his unfinished paperwork, when the President came out of his office, making everyone in the room—even Dazai, turn around and stand straight to listen to what he had to say.
He gave every member a quick glance and started speaking, "Greetings everyone. I'm sure you're all aware of the guest on his way to the Agency—" Guest? How was I not aware of this? Thought Dazai. Maybe it had been mentioned in one of the latest meetings, though it's not like he ever listened in on them, so he wouldn't be able to know through that either way; "—No matter our past grievances, right now he is here on work matters and I expect every one of you to give him back the respect and trust that's being given to us." He sent a look at Dazai, specifically. The man only smiled almost shyly in response. Then Fukuzawa was out of the room and back into his office almost as quickly as he came out of it.
As Dazai laid back down onto the couch (almost as if he hadn't heard at all a single word of what the president had just said), he put one arm behind his head and the other over his stomach—the weight of Chuuya's gloves hidden underneath feeling almost heavy.
He had intended to give them back to him right away the other night as soon as he got back home—then got distracted, and seeing the look on the other’s distressed face the morning after while looking for them had been too endearing not to keep the play up a little longer. Now, though, he was still trying to find the right moment to give the gloves back. Just straight up handing them to Chuuya after he had been holding onto them for days without saying a word would mean he'd get some kind of beating up and, as much as he wouldn't exactly mind that, he had other plans for their days. As long as he'd been able to turn his mind away from work, Dazai would've continued fantasizing about ways to give the gloves back to Chuuya, if only his train of thought hadn't been thrown off by the faint sound of very familiar steps coming up the stairs.
Dazai straightened slightly from the couch and angled himself toward the door, ready to now silently greet their esteemed guest with much more (restrained) pleasure having realized who it actually was, an idea already stirring in his mind. A moment after he could see the handle being pushed down and Chuuya walked in.
The others, unaware of his arrival (too bad they didn't have Chuuya-wired hearing, that being Dazai exclusive), suddenly tensed up. Everyone got back to their respective desks and nobody took their eyes off of Chuuya.
The man himself, on the other hand, couldn't be more unbothered—hell, he actually even looked mildly bored. He closed the door behind him and walked fully into the room with a stride and confidence usual of those working with the Port Mafia; "Good morning—" he bowed lightly, trying hard to show respect even as he was greeted with tense looks—"Could anyone point me to the President’s room?" He asked politely, but his voice still carried that air of security that made it impossible to refuse his request. Kunikida was the first to move from his spot and point him to the room, watching the man disappear into it as he closed the door behind him once again.
Everyone was left pensive in the man's wake, however the Executive’s presence didn't give them reason to take unnecessary breaks from work, so they went back to their respective jobs. Everyone except Dazai—he slowly laid back onto the couch and kept staring at the President’s door, not even trying to hide his careful look as he could notice in his peripheral vision how even Kunikida was so tired that he excused himself from lecturing Dazai.
The door opened again not long after, and Chuuya was the picture of calm and composure—clearly the chat they had had gone well. He turned once again toward Kunikida, now knowing he'd get answers from him, and asked; "Your President wants me to retrieve a box I'm supposed to bring to the Boss, tell me where to get it, would ya?" His voice was devoid of tension. If anything—now that he came out from the President's office, he was even more relaxed than earlier, his tone carrying a light lilt to it, a barely visible smile on his face.
Kunikida took his eyes off his desk and turned to him to answer quickly, "You'll find the box in the storage room, just go in that hallway and it's the door at the end opposite the bathroom—" a beat of silence, "—I'm sure we don't need to send anyone with you…?" His voice betraying himself. He clearly didn't trust the Executive to go alone and unsupervised on Agency grounds, but he had to take steps into this alliance on his own if they all wanted to get it started.
Chuuya almost looked baffled at the suggestion. He let out a soft snort and waved a hand toward the man as he moved closer to the hallway, back toward him as he answered, "I'm not going to steal anything, if that's what you're worried about, four eyes, I've got better things to do." The nickname was clearly meant to irritate the other man, but still managed to let through some kind of familiarity that was slowly but surely beginning to form.
Through the whole conversation Dazai had kept silent. Only after seeing Chuuya disappear into the hallway did he, literally, leap from the couch with a loud noise—everyone turning toward him. "Well! If you would all excuse me, I'll be off to the bathroom!" His steps were quick as he moved, only to be stopped in his tracks right in front of the door by Kunikida's loud voice. "Dazai, please, for the love of God do not go bother the Executive." His voice was completely resigned at this point, and Dazai almost felt bad—almost.
"Can't make any promises!" And he was off.
Chuuya turned around quickly at the sound of the door opening. "Here to bother me where nobody can see?" He said, his eyes still scanning the box he had quickly found and retrieved, not looking away.
"Chuuya knows he loves me, I'm never a bother~"
"Right."
They stood there for some moments, Chuuya finally turning around to start walking towards the door to exit once he deemed his work was finished. Though he was quickly stopped by Dazai moving in front of him, creating a wall between him and the door. He shot up an unimpressed look at the man, "What are you doing?" He raised an eyebrow, his voice sounding skeptical—this seemed all too… calculated.
"I may have found something of yours and I'm here to give it back!" A light smile appeared on his face— "Aren't I so nice?" Said Dazai as he shoved out of his coat Chuuya's black leather gloves. The man in question lightly gasped, he had been looking for those for days on end.
"You bastard, since when did you have them on you?" He demanded, his voice actually serious. He held great care for these gloves and Dazai knew it.
"I have no idea what you're—"
"Dazai."
"…Not that long, I promise I was going to return them at some point, and here I am."
Chuuya sighed, exasperated, but honestly not even surprised anymore at this point. He made a motion with his hand asking to get them back, but instead of the gloves he was faced with the smile on Dazai's face that was only growing more and more. Too calculated.
"Let me?"
"What—"
Before he could finish his sentence Dazai had already carefully took a hold of one of his hands and started putting the glove back on. Chuuya would be lying (and failing) if he tried to act like that didn't do anything to him, but he only tch-ed in response. Still not looking away though, his eyes stuck on the way Dazai's hands were moving while handling him.
If his ears started getting slightly redder he'd just blame the absence of an air conditioner.
"So what did Chuuya come to retrieve?" Asked Dazai, trying to—make small talk? Weird.
Chuuya snapped out of his small trance and tried answering as unaffectedly as possible, "Just a bunch of documents, seems like our bosses are actually serious about this truce thing—oof!" Chuuya felt his back hit the shelf that he could've sworn was at least a meter from him just seconds ago, Dazai's frame caging him against it.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Just putting your gloves back on, can't you see?" Dazai's voice felt a little rough, his body was leaning onto Chuuya's, making him seem even more embarrassingly smaller than usual. Chuuya felt like he couldn't breathe, there was so little space between them he could almost feel Dazai's heartbeat right beside his ears (or maybe it was just beating that loud).
Only now did Chuuya realize how goddamn slowly Dazai was putting his gloves back on, almost making a show out of it. He had literally just now finished putting on one of the two. Chuuya scoffed loudly, making sure Dazai could feel his annoyance reverberating through his chest. What he didn't expect as an answer to that though was a sigh—a slow, deliberate sigh, almost like a tremble of his breath.
Chuuya very slowly looked down, then up, "…Are you fucking hard right now? Seriously?" Upon realizing it, Chuuya could now genuinely feel Dazai's cock brushing onto his stomach, the bulge clearly evident, and growing.
A muttered and whiny sorry was all Dazai could muster up in his daze, though he never stopped slipping each and every one of Chuuya's fingers into the glove. As soon as he was finished, he didn't waste any time to start caressing Chuuya's hand, while leaving small, tender kisses right onto the gloves he had just personally put on. His eyes found Chuuya's, his pupils so big it almost seemed like his eye color was black. Chuuya swallowed, hard.
"Fuck, I hate you." Was all Chuuya managed to say before he crashed his lips with Dazai's. His hands found Dazai's face and tried to keep him steady, keep him there. As the kiss became less of teeth and biting and more of tongue and spit though they quickly moved up. He caressed Dazai's nape as he slid his hands into his hair and scratched his scalp lightly.
If Chuuya hadn't been hard before, he definitely was now.
Dazai tried to create some friction between the two of them, getting their bodies even closer than they were earlier; if possible he would probably try and get into his skin just to be closer. He moved his hips forward but was met only with Chuuya's stomach and—as much of a pleasure that still was—he was aiming for something else.
He groaned in annoyance and impatience at his inability to have access to Chuuya's dick, so he did the closest thing to that he could think of. He picked Chuuya up. He placed himself between the man's thighs and positioned his hands on his ass, his grip painful and good.
"Ah— Dazai—"
"Yeah?" Dazai barely managed to answer, it was getting incredibly hard to not let go of his composure and strip Chuuya of his clothes to fuck him right here on the floor, but he persisted. He wasn't anything if not a patient man (most of the time, anyway).
Dazai didn't give Chuuya the chance to continue his sentence as he kept thrusting against his clothed crotch, one of his hands moved away from his ass to reach his neck; he pulled Chuuya's face down and started sucking under his jawline, leaving light red marks. He wanted to kiss him so bad but he still had to hear what Chuuya had to say.
"Mmh… Faster—" At that, Dazai's knees literally gave out. They slid down to the floor, Chuuya ending up seated on Dazai's lap—the loud noise making him regain some of his consciousness.
"Shit—Fuck, that was loud!" Though his worried tone quickly shifted to quiet moans again as Dazai tried to keep on grinding onto Chuuya but finding it more difficult in this position. Chuuya was hurriedly getting frustrated at the sudden lack of friction and—as shameful as that was— started jumping up and down lightly, riding Dazai's clothes.
His hands found Dazai's shoulders for support, his face hidden in his neck, too embarrassed to acknowledge what he was doing.
Dazai saw stars.
He had to hold back his moans as Chuuya kept on jumping, his body leaning closer against Dazai's, unable to do anything anymore if not just whine lightly in Chuuya's ears.
They were both a complete mess. Sitting on top of each other onto the floor, riding each others now close orgasms while being still fully clothed, in the storage room of—
"Chuu… I'm close—"
Chuuya snapped out of it. He stopped all movement and pushed Dazai back, though he didn't dare get up yet (he felt like he had just lost all the strength in his legs).
"What the— Why'd you stop?!" Whisper-yelled Dazai, clearly frustrated at being denied the pleasure he was so close to reaching. He glared at Chuuya.
"You dumb idiot, were we just going to cum in our pants? In our work clothes?!"
Dazai stayed silent for a few moments, clearly understanding what the other man was saying.
"…Chuuya always spoils my fun." He pouted.
"Oh don't be such a baby and get up. Gosh, what are we, fucking teenagers doing this kind of shit?" Chuuya truly did feel embarrassed, he had lost himself so much to the moment that he almost felt like he had been home, in bed, rather than on a dirty floor of the goddamn Armed Detective Agency. He really had more decorum than this.
They quickly fixed themselves up, trying (and probably failing) to look as less disheveled as possible. They were back to back, not looking at each other to try and make both of their erections come down. That definitely took more time than necessary.
After a while Chuuya grabbed the box again, nearly forgetting about it in the fuss—and walked out fast to be sure he was the first one to be seen get out.
"Oh, Nakahara-san, what took you so— oh, of course." Said Kunikida with the most unimpressed voice he could muster up as he saw Dazai follow behind the Executive. "I really hope he wasn't too much of a nuisance, I apologize on his behalf in advance."
The only response he received was the way Chuuya's eyes slightly widened and Dazai's face forming a mix of annoyance and… amusement. Though it didn't last long, as Chuuya quickly regained himself and answered, "Ah, no worries at all. I'll be going now—" He politely bowed, "—Goodbye." And that was it, he was out of the door without looking back once.
"…Did Chuuya-san have his gloves on when he came in earlier? I don't think I remember so…" Asked Atsushi, his face perfectly showcasing the perplexed feelings he had swirling around his head at the moment.
"Yup." Was all Dazai said, pointedly ignoring the weird looks he was being sent by everyone in the room.
---.𖥔 ݁˖ ݁𖥔.---
Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway leading to the Executive's office, two voices talking calmly to each other about work. "Yes, no need to worry, I will personally report to the Boss that the encounter was a success." Explained Chuuya, no tinge of doubt or uncertainty in his voice, the subordinate following behind him only nodded in response.
"Thank you, Sir. If this is all I will collect the necessary paperwork and be out of your way."
"Sure," said Chuuya as he opened the lock of his office and stepped in— something's off. "Let me just separate and put my signature on them and they'll be all yours."
He didn't let his wariness show in his actions, couldn't let the subordinate realize that someone else was in the room with them, much less who it was. He pulled back the chair from his desk and slowly sat down, the subordinate standing in front of the desk not too far away, carefully folding the documents in front of him and started sorting them. I need to figure out where that bastard is hiding, I have to—
His brain lagged for a moment, and he could suddenly feel a pair of hands on his thighs. He looked down as discreetly as possible as to not alert the subordinate and saw none other than Dazai, kneeling down on the floor under the desk and between his legs.
"Fuck." He mumbled, though the subordinate seemed to have heard, so Chuuya quickly reassured him with a polite smile. It worked.
He sent a glare and lightly kicked Dazai's side from under the desk, trying to destroy whatever dumb idea the guy had in his mind. It did not work.
As Chuuya worked on the absolute enormous pile of paperwork in front of him, that would surely take at least ten minutes to sort through, he felt Dazai slowly starting to rub his hands up and down his thighs. Chuuya could imagine his smirk without even seeing it. His legs trembled a little at the touch, and he could see in his brain the blood currently flowing directly to his dick and cursed in his mind.
The strain in his pants was making him more irritated by the second and Dazai did not seem to want to stop anytime soon. If anything, things were only about to get worse.
Chuuya had managed to work through roughly one fourth of the stack of documents as composed as possible when he felt Dazai's hands on his pants. Specifically on his cock. Specifically unbuttoning his slacks and pulling down his fly. Chuuya gasped under his breath. He genuinely thought he had never felt more self conscious in his life before now.
Dazai worked sickeningly slow and deliberate. He didn't dare make any sounds, but that didn't mean he was going to give Chuuya an easy time.
In mere seconds Chuuya's incredibly hard dick was out in the open. At work. In his office. With a literal subordinate in front of him. His mind wasn't able to actually process what was happening right now—too preoccupied on not letting anything show on his face. God forbid anyone saw him like this.
Chuuya was already leaking a little, some precum sliding down his erect cock as it twitched under Dazai's attentive eyes. The man in question at this point probably thought he had toyed with Chuuya enough and got annoyed from wanting. He started working Chuuya.
Dazai decidedly looked Chuuya straight in the eyes and dragged his tongue on his dick from bottom to top, small kitten licks to drink up all that the other man had been leaking up until now.
Chuuya had to cover his mouth not to make a single sound. His whole body froze up, still covering his mouth—too scared to let the subordinate hear even the slightest of noises—he gave him a quick smile that he could only see through his eyes closing slightly.
Chuuya was going to kill Dazai. Or himself, both were very much inviting options at the moment.
Dazai huffed a small, silent breath onto Chuuya’s cock, sending a shiver though his spine and— before he could prepare himself, put the head of Chuuya’s wet crotch in his mouth.
Chuuya squeezed his eyes shut and started coughing to cover up what was going to be a very loud moan. “Sorry—” Gosh, my voice is rough. “—I swallowed some air wrong.” But he was swallowing, and real good too. Just then Dazai began taking more of Chuuya’s dick into his mouth. Chuuya could see from his peripheral vision how Dazai’s face was slowly going deeper and deeper, the sight more arousing than he’d like to admit.
Chuuya could almost feel Dazai gag onto his cock as he struggled to deep-throat him, but then his nose finally made contact with Chuuya’s body as he bottomed out—the light moan Dazai let out sent vibrations through all of Chuuya’s body and he saw white. He had to get the damn subordinate out and he had to do it now.
“Listen I—Ugh—” Dazai had started moving his head up and down right as Chuuya began talking. Bastard. “—I’ll just get these to you later, yeah?” He managed to spit out with as much composure as he had ever needed in his life.
“Sir, are you sure—”
“Absolutely. Now get out.” He quickly added.
“Yessir.” And he was out.
As soon as he heard the click of the door as it closed, Chuuya slammed his fist on the table, letting out a—probably too loud—groan, releasing most of the pent up tension he had been restraining until now. A dent had been left on the table.
Instead of moving himself, he slightly pushed the desk forward to have more space and visual. He was about to go off on Dazai but his voice got stuck in his throat as he looked down and saw such a wrecked sight.
Even as Chuuya moved things around, Dazai kept bobbing his head up and down, his eyes shining because of the small tears gathering in the corners of his eyes—a hand inside his pants, moving in rhythm with his own head movement.
Chuuya felt himself grow aroused inside Dazai’s mouth. “Osamu…” He called out.
Dazai looked up, his eyes dazed but still focused on Chuuya’s presence. “Mhm?” Is all he managed to let out as an answer. Chuuya couldn't decipher wether the vibrations the sound sent were on purpose or not—but he nonetheless let out a small whine as he finished talking, “Aah… Don’t you fucking—dare cum in your pants, unless I say you can.” His voice sounded stern. He wasn’t trying to be, however; he genuinely did not want Dazai to make a mess (that he’d have to clean up). Dazai whined at that.
“Understood?” Chuuya repeated himself, still not expecting an actual coherent answer, though. Dazai closed his eyes slowly to respond, letting some tears fall in the process. His cheeks now almost as wet as his mouth and the sounds it was making.
“Fuck, you’re pretty—” Chuuya managed to get out through a sequence of small moans and whines. Dazai answered Chuuya’s praise with just as much vigor, the hand in his pants growing in speed. He squeezed his eyes shut, probably to try and not cum yet just as Chuuya had said.
After some frustrating moments of Dazai just gracefully moving up and down, clearly getting tired, Chuuya decided to take it over from there. He shoved a hand in Dazai’s hair and grabbed. “Can I?” He asked—a quick nod came his way. “Good boy.”
Before Dazai could process what Chuuya had just said, he found himself being shoved right into Chuuya’s body, his nose touching the bottom of his stomach. The head of his cock scraping at the back of his throat, almost making him gag, almost. Chuuya began moving Dazai’s head at a speed that would probably bruise the back of his throat a little later on.
Neither of them cared.
Dazai’s whines and cries became loud and strong, the vibrations reverberating in Chuuya’s body so intense it almost felt like he had a fucking vibrating dildo up his ass.
Chuuya noticed how Dazai’s own hand was getting slower and slower. And he was probably close. “Stop—” He took out the glove from his free hand and sent a look at Dazai; “Wouldn’t want to get your, ahh, pants dirty, right?” He teased, a smug smile on his face, “Plus, I know you love my gloves.”
Dazai’s eyes widened for a second, but quickly reached out for the glove with his dirty hand. He could barely make out what he was doing—his vision blurry from the tears, his face still being fucked. He rushed to unzip his belt and took out his cock from boxers and pants. He was throbbing, his cock red and twitching, leaking so much precum it looked like he had already came. Chuuya was delighted at the view.
Seeing Dazai use his glove to jerk himself off sent Chuuya very close to the edge. “Dazai, I’m going to— cum in your mouth, okay?” He didn't wait for an answer, couldn't, as both of them came at the same time right after, too aroused to hold it in any longer.
Dazai’s eyes went up as his throat filled with cum and he came into Chuuya’s leather glove to not spill on the floor. He saw stars.
They rode their orgasms together as they stayed still, then slowly came down from their highs and Chuuya let go of Dazai’s hair, though he still didn’t move for another while, too tired to do so. “Come on, spit that out onto the glove before you completely lose all your strength.” Said Chuuya, not sure if Dazai had actually registered the words. The other man only looked up at him as he slid Chuuya out of him, making him groan from the overstimulating friction.
Dazai kept on looking at Chuuya, a small smile appearing now on his face and—he swallowed, his Adam's apple moving with the motion. “Of course.” Said Chuuya, “What did I expect.” He sighed, not mad, but he had honestly seen it coming. Neither of them liked to spit anyways.
“Come here, idiot.” He carefully picked Dazai up, guided him from under the table and instead put him on the table. “Catch your breath, okay?” He had the most sickeningly sweet smile on his face as he looked at Dazai’s messy state, “I’ll go get something to get you cleaned up.” He—dreadfully—sat up from the chair, his knees weak from the genuine workout that that was.
He disappeared into his office’s bathroom and quickly got a hold of a wet towel to clean Dazai’s face and hands. He walked back into the room and stopped dead in his tracks.
Dazai was licking clean the glove. He looked back at Chuuya, his tongue still out.
“Dazai, what the fuck—”
---.𖥔 ݁˖ ݁𖥔.---
Chuuya’s day had been going well, he hadn’t been sent on any outdoors missions, the coffee machine had finally been repaired, almost all of his reports had been given in already and Mori-san was delighted with his work. His day was going perfectly.
“Chuuya~!”
Or so it had been.
For whatever god forsaken reason the Armed Detective Agency had sent Dazai to retrieve the aforementioned reports—files about the truce, still. His day had been going well, though that morning he had woken up with a slight headache; he did not see it getting better anytime soon.
Chuuya kept walking down the hallway. “I’m still asking myself who in their right mind would actually send you of all people here.” he complained. It’s not like he hated Dazai, far from it—but he already saw him enough as it was. Seeing him at work too? An actual torture for more than one reason.
“Oh, they didn’t!—” the idiot beamed, “—I volunteered and simply didn’t give them the opportunity to refuse.” The lilt of his voice grated Chuuya’s nerves in a way that only a combination of a headache and Dazai before his lunch coffee could cause.
With a few quick strides Dazai caught up to Chuuya, eager to act like they weren’t in the goddamn Port Mafia building.
“Where’s Chuuya taking me?” A small pause— “Gasp! Could it be that he’s trying to get me alone to take advantage of me…” He put the back of his hand onto his forehead and leaned back, closing his eyes for show. “How crude!” he said, way too loudly for comfort.
“As if I’d need to lure you in to do that.” Answered Chuuya without thinking much about it. It was true anyway.
“Mh. You’re right, Chuuya could have me anywhere, anytime~!” He leaned close, their shoulders bumping. Neither of them moved away.
“Will you just shut up?—” Whisper-shouted Chuuya looking back at Dazai, “—My head’s been hurting all morning! All I want to do is lay down and— and unwind for fucks sake!” He abruptly stopped in the middle of the hallway to look Dazai straight in the eyes, “I cannot wait to get home and finally not think. You are not helping right now.”
His chest rose up and down, breathing hard. His face looked apologetic and Dazai figured Chuuya was probably fighting with his mind to actually figure out what to do next after his little break down. He almost felt sorry.
A beat of silence passed as they just looked at each other.
“…Sorry. I didn't mean to shout—I just really need to shut my brain up,” he said finally.
Dazai didn’t answer, only smirked back at him.
Chuuya stopped at the end of the hallway, his hand hovering the door handle. “Here we are, it’s going to be quick since I was the one to personally organize the files,” explained Chuuya, matter of factly.
“Lead the way.”
And so he did. The room was pretty small, just any average storage room that an organization as big as the Port Mafia used for basic level files. Nothing Dazai hasn’t seen before.
Chuuya turned around and looked back at Dazai, “Just give a minute, I also need to get something else for the Boss,” he explained, his voice calm, tired. He turned back toward the shelves to find whatever it was he was looking for.
“Chuuya.”
“Mhm?”
“Get down on your knees.”
“—What?” Bewilderment was showing on Chuuya’s face like he had it written on it in bold. He looked incredulous, too caught off guard to react.
“Sit.” Dazai ordered.
It was like he had flipped a switch.
Chuuya got down on his knees almost as if on autopilot, only realizing what he had just done when he strained his neck even more than usual to look Dazai in the eyes. A flush was starting to cover his face and ears in a pretty bright red, but he couldn't back out now.
“Good puppy,” praised Dazai. The tone in his voice sounded so condescending but so good Chuuya just had to ignore that first part. He’d be pissed off later.
“You don't have to worry,” he continued— “you’re not going to be able to think about anything anymore when we’ll be out of this room.” A smile, “Well, anything but me, of course.”
Chuuya squinted his eyes at the other man, but no matter how menacing he tried to look (to no avail, Dazai could never find him anything but delightful, despite the current… circumstances), the position he was in right now was not exactly giving him any scary Port Mafia Executive points. Still, didn't hurt to try.
Just as Chuuya had been getting lost in his thoughts, he found himself being brought back by a sudden pressure on his dick. He let out a hiss, the pain too sudden—but not unwanted. The heel of Dazai’s boot was hitting the tip of his cock almost perfectly. Chuuya reached out for Dazai’s calve and gripped, hard. He wasn’t trying to get Dazai off, having his hands occupied in his current predicament just felt like a necessity.
“What—do you think you’re doing?” His voice was rough, his speech strained by the strength he had to put into his will to not start moaning right into Dazai’s pants. He couldn’t even look up at Dazai as the man answered him.
“Whatever do you mean? I’m helping you unwind,” He pressed his foot down even more, “Just like you wanted, no?” Chuuya didn’t have to look up to see the unmistakable smirk that bastard probably had on his face at the moment.
Chuuya wanted, he wanted to spout some remark at Dazai for putting him in such a shameful position while at work—though he quickly found his own mind betraying him. He absentmindedly started rocking his hips back and forth, slowly.
Light moans were quickly filling up the room, Chuuya’s grip on Dazai’s leg hardening so much it’d probably bruise later. He kept the other’s leg in place and kept on moving.
His breathing felt rocky and unsteady as his nerves grew. This really was unwinding his mind, but that did not change the fact they were still at work. How had he let this happen multiple times already?
Chuuya wasn’t able to continue that train of thought as Dazai pressed down and twisted his foot to the side, creating a friction so strong between Chuuya’s dick and literally everything else touching it at the moment that the man wasn’t able to stop the low scream that came out of his lips.
He hurriedly moved one of his hands and covered his mouth in such an embarrassment that—would it be possible—he’d evaporate right here and there.
“That was very loud Chuuya.” Dazai looked down at him as he spoke—in all senses, “You shouldn’t bark so loud, the door isn’t locked, dummy.” Chuuya hated that tone. He hated how low his voice got when he talked like that, he hated how it felt like all the light left his speech, he hated how much he liked it. This shit was doing things to him.
“Aah… Sorry— ngh…” His sentence got caught on his throat—Dazai didn't let him finish talking, only moving his foot back again with the motion Chuuya had taken earlier.
“Osamu—” He couldn’t. This was too much. The damn Port Mafia building was not the place to get into this kind of head-space.
“That’s my good puppy.”
Sadly he was already in too deep.
Chuuya kept on humping Dazai’s shoe, arguing only with his mouth—until that too stopped being entertaining.
He moved a little, raising his legs so his heels weren’t touching his ass anymore and slowly closed his eyes. He moved forward to find Dazai’s clothed cock and just stayed there, in front of it, for a moment. Then he started rubbing his face against his pants.
Dry moans kept spilling out from his mouth like the intense wetness spilling from his dick was making his pants unbearable to keep on.
“You— you planned this… This was all— aah… to take advantage of me—” Chuuya tried to fight back, still, though he found it difficult to talk while filling his mouth with cloth.
“Me? Taking advantage of you?” He put up his hands to prove his point— “If anything, Chuuya’s the one taking advantage of me!” An amused giggle left Dazai’s lips. He knew Chuuya had nothing to say to contradict that.
So they both just shut up. For a while all that could be heard reverberating through the room were Chuuya’s sweet moans bouncing from wall to wall—music to Dazai’s ears. Only for a while though, did they shut up. Dazai just had to always open and run his damn mouth.
“If Chuuya keeps on slobbering all over me I might just have to punish him later—untrained dogs don't get rewarded.” Dazai’s voice had the capability of sounding so fond and so condescending at the same time, truly a gift.
“No… I— I’m close—” Chuuya kept on whining, in far too deep to care about what he was saying anymore. He really just wanted to just finish and black out for a while.
“Oh? That just won’t do.”
Chuuya didn't have the time to process the words (not that he would’ve been able to, anyways), as he almost fell forward as Dazai moved back, creating distance between him and the man still kneeling on the ground in front of him.
“Huh—”
“Does Chuuya remember some days ago, when he left me to fend for myself when I was so close, too?” he started.
Chuuya’s face became as white as a ghost. He knew where this was going.
“He can just count this as a little payback~! Didn’t think I was just going to let you get away with that, did you?”
So cruel. Just so cruel.
Chuuya had gotten so much into that kind of subspace he had created in his mind that such a shattering affirmation left him teary eyed.
He wasn’t full on sobbing, per se—but his eyes were clearly blurry.
He didn't say anything, though, only kept on looking at Dazai with a kicked puppy face that not even the other man could resist (he was the last one that could, actually).
Dazai was so taken aback by the sight he actually didn’t know what to do for some seconds—then he was straight down on the floor with him.
“I’m sorry, Baby— I’ll make it up for you at home? Promise.” He was holding onto Chuuya, now. The other looked like he was stuck in some kind of trance, still fighting to keep his composure and not let any tears fall.
When the other finally looked Dazai in the eyes he didn't talk right away, only observed, then— “You’re a fucking asshole. I hate you, I hate you, I—”
“I love you, too, Chuuya.” A sweet smile was on his face, letting the plethora of insults fly over his head as he held Chuuya carefully.
“…Whatever. I’m going back to work.” And then he got up. As if nothing had happened, he began walking towards the door, Dazai still sitting on the floor. Silence stretched out between them.
“I didn’t fully lie, though—” Dazai started, “—you will only be able to think about me for the rest of the day~!” A sly smile caressed his lips.
No answer came him way, just Chuuya’s back and a middle finger sent his way.
Dazai’s satisfaction didn’t leave his body, though. Chuuya still had to figure out that, not only had he forgotten to get the files for the Agency and the files for the Boss—but he had also just walked out into the hallway with probably wet and shoe-print stained pants.
Well. He’ll deal with what will surely be a deranged Chuuya back at home. For now, he’d just head back—it’d be too late when the other will realize, and Dazai would already be out of the building by then (with the required documents, nonetheless).
…He’s going to fuck me (up) so hard later...
“Damn it—He really did slobber all over me!”
---.𖥔 ݁˖ ݁𖥔.---
Light music played in the elevator. Chuuya stood over the wall, leaning on it. He pressed all the weight of that day finally coming to an end against cold metal. The last thing he had to do before finally clocking out was retrieve some files from the Boss’ office.
Ding
As he got out he slowly made his way through the corridor. The Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency had finally come to an agreement for the truce they had been working on for weeks now.
Chuuya was really just glad he wouldn't have to see those detectives more than necessary anymore, no matter the point of the truce.
(Even though he wasn’t exactly contrary to actually seeing what Osamu’s new life was made of, what kind of people it held now.)
Facing the door of the office Chuuya had no problem going right in after a quick knock—the guards knew not to question him by now and Mori was no new company for him and, of course, also likewise.
Still, he bowed right as he entered the room, swiftly closed the door behind him and faced the Boss. “Good evening, Mori-san,” he greeted, ever so polite— “I assume I’ve been summoned to retrieve some completed documents?” He posed his sentence as a question, though they both already knew the answer.
Mori wasn't one to not give trust to his Executives and Chuuya did not let that go unnoticed.
“Good evening, Chuuya-kun.” Mori’s voice was calm and composed, though Chuuya could feel something hiding underneath it. “Yes, I have some documents you need to give to a detective that’ll then pass them on onto the Agency President,” he explained.
Chuuya’s face showed his perplexed feelings almost immediately, “Can I not just give them to the President directly? Why go through all that trouble?” It was a genuine question—Chuuya found no problem in interacting again with Fukuzawa, at least, he actually could almost enjoy the man’s company after their past brief encounters.
“Because I said so.” His tone was final, Chuuya could not—would not refute his Boss.
“Yes, Sir. Who will I be giving them to?” he asked, though the expression on his Boss’ face gave him a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer. He felt a shiver run through his spine.
“Dazai’s on his way here as we speak.”
“But Boss—”
“Come now, Chuuya. We should not let our guests waiting.” He waved his hand as if to send him out of the room, the conversation done and final. He handed over the documents and gave Chuuya an almost understanding look (if we hadn’t been talking about the Port Mafia Boss, that is).
“Of course, Sir. Have a good day.”
“Likewise.”
And he was out.
Why would the Boss call for him again?! Unbelievable. Just unbelievable. The whole way to the elevator Chuuya kept on grumbling to himself. Why would the Boss personally call for Dazai specifically? Why would Dazai accept a request from the Boss! This was all too frustrating.
The past month Chuuya’s patience had been brought to thinner and thinner ice as the days passed. He was so over this shit.
He clicked the elevator button and tried to compose himself as he waited for the elevator to reach the 40Th floor. Damn this building and all its endless floors. Keyword, tried.
Ding
The elevator’s doors slowly opened.
“Oh! Look who’s here, what a coincidence.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Chuuya closed his eyes and run his hands over his face. So tired. “Just move over and make space.”
“What's got you so grumpy today?” asked Dazai with a face that screamed trouble. He wasn’t actually asking to know.
Chuuya only shoved the files onto him— “Just take these and shut up.” He glared at the other man.
Chuuya didn't know why he acted like this with Dazai more often than not, especially when out of their own home. He didn’t actually mean half of the shit that he was saying but he just couldn’t help himself but try and keep that persona up.
Maybe it was the fact that nobody knew about their relationship. Maybe it was the fact that most of the people in the Port Mafia probably knew about it, actually.
Or maybe he was just scared that by making this official—by showing each other off—they’d be easier targets. He had no intention of publicly getting close to someone once again just to get them ripped away from his grasp once more. He just couldn’t bear that again. He couldn’t.
Lately being in Dazai’s presence outside of their carefully curated space at home got him feeling almost tipsy, always on edge for seemingly no reason at all—they were still Double Black after all.
His irrational fear of losing Dazai was just that, irrational. He knew that, yet couldn’t let go of the fact that he thought of himself as dangerous for people close to him as much as he was dangerous for those against him.
Maybe he was really only just scared of being perceived as anything more that what he had been letting on. Maybe—
“—Earth to Chuuya!”
Before Chuuya could make sense of his movements he had already turned around and grabbed Dazai by the neck. One hand around his throat and the other curled up in a fist so tight his knuckles had gone white. He was trembling.
“K-Kinky—” Dazai clearly had trouble letting any words out even as he masked his current emotions with a sly smile, and that’s when Chuuya realized he had yet to let go.
“Fuck—Shit! I’m so sorry I didn't mean to— I don’t know what came over me…”
The pure dread on Chuuya’s face because of what he had just done was so evident Dazai just stood there, staring. His face looked as helpless as Chuuya as he thought of how to fix this.
He hadn’t minded that. Of course he hadn’t. But given Chuuya’s state of mind—no matter how many times they had actually beat each other up—this must be horrible for him as of now.
Dazai, being Dazai, dealt with the situation as well as he could. That being slowly leaning close to Chuuya, moving down to his own height to whisper into his ear; “I wouldn’t mind Chuuya doing that again… It wasn't as displeasing as it might’ve seemed.” His voice was ushered, careful.
He and Chuuya weren't exactly unexperienced when talking about sex, but there were some things they had yet to try. And Dazai had never been one to turn down a beating from Chuuya whatsoever.
“What?—” Before he could make out a whole sentence, Dazai’s hands found his in a quick motion, slowly moving them up his body. Stopping right beside his neck.
“Come on, Chuuya. You can do it,” he encouraged.
“Are you sure? I—”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Chuuya gave a quick glance at the numbers on the elevator monitor—30Th floor. Plenty of time before they reached the end of their ride.
Dazai’s documents had long since fallen on the elevator floor.
Chuuya was careful while moving his hands. He slowly caressed Dazai’s neck with his fingers. Lightly brushing over his jawline—trying to get himself, rather than Dazai, ready for what he’d been asked to do.
As he actually, finally, moved his hands onto Dazai’s neck he was precise with his placement.
Chuuya was very aware of what where the places to skillfully take someone’s life with choking or strangling, so simply avoiding those places was incredibly easy.
He moved his fingers on both sides of Dazai’s neck, his thumbs framing it—creating a v shape on his body. The other man’s pupils already looked so wide Chuuya could almost see his own reflection in them as he looked up at him.
Chuuya had barely put any pressure on the fingers resting on the other’s neck muscles when Dazai parted his mouth. A short, low moan made its way out. Chuuya's face showed genuine surprise at the reaction. He hadn’t expected it. Not so soon at least.
With newfound confidence, and interest, he found himself less and less scared of giving Dazai what he wanted.
As he kept on putting and releasing pressure on Dazai’s neck he noticed how his face could almost be described as pale—if not for the intense blush covering his cheeks and ears. Chuuya was slowly stopping Dazai’s blood from going to his brain but it certainly found somewhere else to go.
Dazai was hard. Chuuya could not fathom how Dazai found this that arousing. (Dazai’s expression definitely was arousing to look at, but being on the receiving end? He guessed he’d just have to try and find out for himself some other time.)
Needless to say, though, he was just as bricked. But he decidedly paid his own… needs—no mind and went right back to work.
Chuuya quickly grew bold—he hardened his grip some more and, pushing Dazai onto the elevator wall, he started moving the man up the wall. His feet quickly in the air, not touching the floor anymore.
Dazai’s expression was delightful. All this time he had kept his mouth open, needing to bring in all the air he could, but that made it so he couldn't stop drooling. A sweet line of drool made its way all the way down Dazai’s chin, slowly reaching his neck.
Chuuya was almost tempted to lick it off.
Nonetheless, he kept his attention on Dazai’s face—careful not to do damage. He listened gleefully as the other moaned and whined half assed words, his speech clearly impaired by the lack of air. His mind was no doubt getting foggy.
“Osamu, you’re being so good for me…” That’ll do the trick.
“Aah— Chuu…”
“Yes?” There it was.
“I’m so—”
Ding
Fuck.
Chuuya let go of Dazai as quickly, and carefully, as he could. The other fell with a thud just as the elevator door opened. Four figures appeared in front of them and Chuuya didn’t know whether to be relieved or absolutely terrified.
“Chuuya-san!” Two voices overlapped as they spoke.
“…Dazai-kun?” An older one called out.
A small nod was sent Chuuya’s way.
Sigh.
“Hello, Gin.” He smiled politely at the girl, then looked over at Hirotsu and bowed his head a little in respect, no matter if he was the Executive between the two.
“Tachihara, Higuchi.” He greeted the younger members with a careful look.
…Just as careful as the one they collectively sent him when they noticed the man on the floor. They made it into the elevator and let the doors close behind them.
“What is he doing here?” asked Higuchi.
“Matter of fact, why’s he on the floor?—Dude are you breathing?” questioned Tachihara.
Dazai was still clearly struggling with taking in air, purple bruises already formed around his neck. Though he tried giving them no mind as he got up and, as quickly as he could, molded his expression into one completely neutral.
“Hirotsu-san!—Cough—Gin-chan!” exclaimed the man, his voice more rough than Chuuya had ever heard before. He just gave the other two members an acknowledging look.
“Is everything alright, Dazai-kun?” said Hirotsu, oh so ever caring. (He’d never admit it out loud, but his soft spot for Dazai had never left, no matter the change in occupation.)
“Just peachy! Chuuya’s just being a brute as usual…” The man said as he leaned on the wall and moved the back of his hand onto his forehead, the show more dramatic than any of his past ridiculous torture methods.
Hirotsu looked between the two of them. His face was nothing short of amused, clearly aware of what was going on. Always had been, really.
“Oi—”
“Anyways! Who wants to guess how much Chuuya ruined the Boss’ documents from stepping on them as he beat me up?” It sounded like a question, but the realization hit Chuuya in the face like a well pointed punch.
“Fuck!”
“Chuuya-san, I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be fixed—”
“Dazai, I’ll fucking kill you, you—!”