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Dazai thinks Chuuya is way too cute. It’s evident in the way his cheeks warm up in the sun or how his lips tilt into a smile when he’s happy. Although he’s never facing the cameras when he changes his expression, Dazai has them planted across the Port Mafia just to watch him from every angle.
Today, his beautiful lamb is talking to a mere tasteless subordinate that isn’t even worth an ounce of attention. No worries, there’s a mission later that Mori requested Soukoku to handle. Why not ask for a little help?
“Slug, why don’t you bring your goons to the mission tomorrow?” They’re sharing a cup of coffee in the main room, with Dazai sprawled across the couch and Chuuya’s attention on his phone.
He stops texting to look up. “Why?”
“It’ll be tough work tomorrow. You know how the little fuckers run when they’re caught. It’ll be a good exercise for your little subordinates to catch them.”
Chuuya raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about something as mundane as training?”
Dazai shrugs his shoulders. “I can care when I want too.”
It’s safe to say that Chuuya’s little ‘friend’ was never seen again. Lost in action, they say. When the reality is that Dazai dragged him far away into the never ending torture of the Port Mafia dungeons. “Will you ever speak to him again?”
“No! Dazai-san, please! I will never talk to Chuuya–”
A burning hot iron rod touched the raw flesh of his victim, leaving a burn mark indented on his chest. “Sorry, who?”
“Chuuya–?”
A scream echoes through the dungeon.
“You will not call him by name again. I’ll have your head.” Dazai disposes of the body quickly and easily. Chuuya gives him shit for disappearing mid-battle but the brunet only stares at him with an awestruck expression. Pretty.
Chuuya, on the other hand, is conflicted. Because he knew that Dazai was looking at him from the hidden cameras that day, knew that there was a reason he wanted to bring the kid he was talking to and his other subordinates on the mission. It’s obvious that Dazai killed him, but…
Does he know that Chuuya’s kill count is way up in the hundreds?
Every single person that ridiculed the way Dazai looked is now buried six feet under. Whether it was behind his back or in front of his face, Chuuya didn’t let them see the light of day after the first insult. Anyone that tries to murder Dazai is only met with the sweet crushing sensation of gravity, or even better– strangulation to death. Because only he can kill Dazai with his own two arms. Him and him only. To feel the angry heartbeat from his own fingers is sweet on his tongue, to taste it and to bite it– to end it.
Chuuya doesn’t think about it any further. “Come, idiot. We have paperwork that needs to be filed.”
Dazai wraps his arms around Chuuya’s shoulders as they walk to their shared office. And if he only asks Dazai to accompany him as he fills out both of their work for his own selfish benefit, he’ll keep it to himself.
——
“What the fuck do you mean we have to share a hotel room?”
Mori sits with his hand full of a cup of tea. “Is something the matter, Chuuya-kun?” His violet eyes stare right into blues.
Chuuya stutters at that. “No, sir.”
“Then off you go. I don’t see a problem and neither should you.”
Dazai watches as Chuuya angrily stomps out of the boss’ office, slamming the doors shut behind him. Mori only sighs, rubbing the forming wrinkles between his eyebrows as he looks at the prodigy he raised himself. “Dazai-kun, is it necessary for you and Chuuya-kun to share a hotel room?”
“You said it yourself, you don’t see a problem.”
“I’ve only said that to appease Chuuya-kun,” The boss sighs again in defeat. “If you’re going to ask for a favor from me, make it less humiliating. Think of something new to get with Chuuya-kun.”
His attention turns toward Elise-chan as Dazai walks out with a smile on his face. Ah, he can finally sleep with his partner in bliss once more, how he has waited for this day to come.
Chuuya chuckles in the hallway after he listened in to the conversation.
Time and time again he and Dazai shared a hotel room for each mission that required it. Time and time again he acts angry so that his taller partner doesn’t suspect a thing. His heart is filled with so much joy that he might explode in overwhelming emotions.
——
“Dazai, I want you to move in with me.”
It’s because of his immense care and worry in Dazai’s behavior that he offers up his humble penthouse to his partner. He made sure to plant a camera using gravity manipulation in a small crevice of the shitty shipping container that he sleeps in. It’s always hot and clammy because of the warm weather of Yokohama, Dazai must be burning in there. And his fridge? Filled with whiskey and a half empty bottle of water.
The bed is small and there’s only a thin blanket to keep him warm in the coldest of nights. Of course, being a good partner means to take care of your other half. If he has to force Dazai to come stay with him–
“Sure.”
Chuuya smiles all warm and giddy. “No convincing needed? You’re too good to me.”
Dazai basks in the gooey feeling of Chuuya’s heated shoulder as he leans in for a hug. “Anything for you, Chuuya~”
Dazai owns pairs of suits and rolls of bandages in his shipping container, it’s the only thing he can bring to Chuuya’s penthouse late at night. He’s greeted with a kiss on the forehead, making him flustered on the cheeks as he’s walked to Chuuya's bedroom.
“Big…” He comments, staring at the well expensively furnished room and the soft bed he’s about to jump on.
“Knock yourself out.”
He pulls off his suit and wraps the warm comforters around his malnourished body. Chuuya watches him fall asleep immediately, poor baby, he must have been deprived of rest since living in that shithole.
Dazai smiles in his sleep.
Before he moved into Chuuya’s room. Dazai used to place a picture of his empty shipping container in front of the camera to block Chuuya’s vision as he pulled out missing clothes from his closet. There’s a nice coat with the redhead’s musky cologne and a pair of underwear that was left in the hamper. He sniffs it, once, twice– before throwing it onto the bed to cuddle on the makeshift version of Chuuya.
But now, as Chuuya crawls under the covers to spoon Dazai, he can have a taste of the real thing.
What he doesn’t expect though is for Chuuya to press two fingers to his pulse. His heartbeat is steady from years of training. And when the redhead finds nothing, he shuffles out of blankets to softly push Dazai on his back before moving downward. Lower and lower as he gently pulls the covers off his shivering body.
Dazai’s drowsy with sleep and not quite attentive.
He thinks that kisses are being spread all over his body, or that the buttons of his shirt are being popped open one by one, but there’s no way to know unless he opens his eyes and sees for himself. His body instinctively twitches as Chuuya digs his fangs underneath the bandages and into the skin of his stomach. Marking him up the way it should be intended.
Chuuya, on the other hand, is having way too much fun.
This is all he has dreamed of ever since they were mere teenagers. To own Osamu, to mark him, to have him for himself so that no one would dare to touch him. And to think his beloved might feel the same way? What a beautiful time to be alive. Dazai gets so easily pliant and red around him that he cherishes each and every interaction.
Chuuya moves the blankets out of the way to spread his legs. He’s quick to pull down pants and undergarments to show the treasure underneath. Dazai is smooth and soft, good and docile. He pets the resting thigh patronizingly, before spitting into his hand and slowly stroking Dazai bottom up.
It takes every cell in Dazai’s body not to moan or make a single sound.
He’s supposed to be asleep but his mind is slowly starting to wake up. Will Chuuya stop if he gets a whiff of his fakeness? He doesn’t want the building pleasure to leave– Each stroke of Chuuya’s gloved palm on his cock makes it grow harder by the second. Euphoria builds in his belly and he feels himself twitching. Oh god, he’s going insane.
Chuuya has such lovely hands… so intense. Dazai licks his dry lips and bites them in an attempt to ground himself to reality. The speed is being picked and a soft groan scratches out of his throat. His head twitches around, side to side, hands clenching into the bedsheets underneath.
“Do you feel good, baby?”
Dazai doesn’t answer as much as he wants to. Not when Chuuya is placing his tongue on the tip and flicking it around widely. Not when he’s licking up the pre-cum and spreading it around his cock. Not when he’s holding the base to starve off his pending orgasm, edging him at the last second.
Dazai whines, throaty and fatigued. He wants to see… to rub his hands around Chuuya’s body and pin him down and fuck him– or be fucked. As long as it’s with Chuuya–
The image sends him to one of the harshest orgasms he’s ever had.
Chuuya watches cum spurt on his tongue, licking it up greedily as Dazai twitches all over and under him. “Such a good boy,” he praises, swallowing the last of Dazai’s cum down his throat. He climbs over Dazai’s body on all fours, pressing his lips to his ear.
“I know you’re awake.”
——
Chuuya Nakahara claims that he knows his partner inside out. He knows exactly when Dazai is slacking off, or is tired, or when he needs a meal and some water. It’s partially the reason why he made the idiot move into his penthouse. The other more prominent reason is to watch his every move.
“I’m going to drop you off to the Port Mafia, Osamu.”
Dazai looks up from the meal he was happily munching on, one of Chuuya’s special recipes. “Why? I can go by myself.”
Chuuya coos dishearteningly. He walks toward Dazai’s seat, petting his head condescendingly. “I know damn well you aren’t going to do any work. That’s going to change today.” Chuuya can lie all he wants about caring about work ethics, all he wants to do is just–
“You’re riding my motorcycle with me.”
–Have Dazai so physically close to him that he’s hanging on for dear life.
There’s no time to argue as they’re both already at the shiny pink bike that Dazai is immensely afraid of. He loves Chuuya, but… that motorcycle scares the crap out of him. So when he’s told to get on and wrap his arms around his lover's torso. He gulps the fear down and rests his head on Chuuya’s shoulder.
“I know about your fear,” Chuuya admits, before revving up the engine.
“Wait, what–”
They’re going at a speed that makes Dazai’s heart accelerate high enough to raise his blood pressure. Chuuya grins as he feels the brunette lean in closer and closer, wrapping around him tightly enough that they’re almost one. He picks up the pace, and oh my, are those tears? Today is his lucky day.
They’re already at the Port Mafia by the time Chuuya slows down to a halt. He wraps his arms around Dazai’s body, cooing and shushing him as he feels the shivers that physically rake through his fragile body. “Oh, poor baby. Was I too rough for you?”
——
Dazai is smiling. He’s so utterly in love with Chuuya’s every move and word that he had to place a small microphone under his hat and in his coat. Dazai hears the moans of his partner as he jerks off in his office. There’s headphones covering his ears as he takes another sip of early morning coffee.
He opens the cameras, low and behold– a desperate redhead perched on his chair with one hand down his pants. And, oh, is that a picture of Dazai? Pride swells his body as he thinks of being jerk off material. Is he the chosen one?
He follows Chuuya everywhere around after that.
His beloved is on a solo mission? Dazai will be there, watching from a rooftop as he sketches the curves of Chuuya’s muscles through his suit.
Chuuya makes eye contact with him on said mission and smiles? He’ll be writing so many love letters about it just to shove them into his ‘no touch’ drawer.
And so what if he has a secret room filled with pictures and pictures of his redheaded partner? It’s true love.
When Chuuya is away from their shared office, he makes sure to steal the bento filled with Chuuya’s lunch and eat pieces of it. Only increments so that his partner doesn’t get suspicious, but enough to fill his stomach. Of course, the mafioso had to be an amazing cook, it’s a part of his never ending charisma.
There’s always food left in his office and Dazai takes more and more everyday. It’s so delicious, who can resist a good crab cooked meal when it’s fresh? He savors the bite, before realizing Chuuya needs to eat too and begrudgingly puts it away.
….
Chuuya likes to watch from the office camera. The way Dazai stuffs his face full when he thinks no one is looking, or how he spins around in Chuuya’s chair and smells his spare bottle of cologne. It’s uniquely him, Chuuya keens to himself.
He’s been adding more vegetables and fruits to the meals since Dazai refuses to eat anything remotely healthy. And who would be able to tell he’s been increasing the box sizes day and day? A few millimeters go a long way.
——
Dazai likes watching Chuuya sleep, especially after using corruption. Like this, he’s helpless, vulnerable, and anybody could take advantage of him… But that is why he’s here to protect his smaller partner. He makes sure to lock the windows and doors so no one can disrupt them.
There’s scars all over his body that Dazai traces with his fingers. All up his arms, to his stomach, and down his legs where Arahabaki’s swirls tainted him and left indents into his skin. A beautiful figure for an ethereal man. Dazai is so lucky.
He’s already taken out the threats of their mission beforehand…
But he’s convinced Chuuya that they need to use his true ability. Dazai has a convincing tongue with lies and deception on the tip of it, flowing out freely with no repercussions. But it’s all worth it if he gets to see his partner like this.
“How beautiful,” Dazai whispers, admiring him.
The flaws that he wears, the healed cuts on his skin from physical fights, the freckles on his body… Chuuya’s insane thoughts and stalkerish tendencies are all the characteristics that make him oh so utterly human.
They care for each other as much as the earth rotates on its axis. And really, that’s all that matters.