Work Text:
Dazai is slumped in Mori's office chair--a usual spot for him--eye bandages slightly unraveled as he rests his elbows on his lanky knees. He stares down at his dress shoes, mind fuzzy and warm from the alcohol he ingested so wrecklessly.
He doesn't even look up as he hears the slow footsteps of Mori, cold and precise and awfully nostalgic. The older man snakes his fingers through Dazai's unkempt hair to pull his head back until his neck is stretched taut, other hand unzipping his slacks inches from the boy's face.
All within 30-seconds, Mori's cock is already pressed against Dazai's lips. The musk of his arousal is now heavy in the air around the boy, mingling with the faint traces of cologne and leather from the office furniture. His grip on Dazai's hair is firm but not painful, the way he always handles the teen--just enough pressure to remind him who's in control.
"You look like shit," he murmurs, his other hand's thumb brushing over Dazai's bottom lip. His breathing is already deep and even, his arousal evident in the way his hips give a subtle twitch forwards to rub further against the boy's lips. "But I don't care. Open up."
Absent mindedly, the teen obeys, his lips parting just enough to allow the older man's dick to slide just enough in to rest on his tongue, the bitterness of his precum already mingling with the whiskey still clung on him.
Mori's fingers tighten in his slightly-greasy hair as he pushes deeper, not giving the boy time to adjust before he's forcing himself into the start of his throat. Immediately, Dazai gags, his body instinctively recoiling--but Mori's grip holds him in place, eliciting a moan from the man as he watches his throat work around him, his hips rolling forward in slow, deliberate thrusts.
"Foolish little boy," he murmurs, voice thick with lust. His free hand moves down to his jaw, thumb pressing against the hinge as he forces him to look up at him.
Dazai allows it, but not without narrowing his eyes defiantly the moment they make eye contact. He isn't sucking the man off as much as he is just merely supplying a hole for him, his throat now opening up in an attempt not to gag again.
Unfortunately, Mori's smirk widens at that defiance, the glint in his eyes sharpening as he sees the challenge in the young boy's narrowed gaze. Instead of pulling back, taking pity on his boy, he tightens his grip in his hair and thrusts deeper, holding himself there until Dazai's throat convulses around him.
"Look at you," he purrs, thumb brushing over this prominent cheekbone. "Trying so hard not to gag. That only makes you seem like a whore, Dazai-kun." his hips roll again, slow and deep, drawing another choked sound from the teen.
Mind still hazy from the alcohol, he tries to pull his mouth back enough to grab Mori's shaft--an attempt to make sure he cannot thrust as deep as he has been doing. But alas, Mori's hand snaps down to catch his wrist before he can fully grasp his cock, tugging it to the side; a sudden pain shoots up the boy's arm, sensitive from his self-inflictions, as he gasps around the cock in his mouth. Mori, however, uses that moment to push deeper, his thick length now filling the boy completely.
Dazai's fingers twitch uselessly in the man's grip as he holds him there.
"Ah-ah," he chides in that annoying tone of his, "Did you think I'd let you control this?" his hips roll again, slow and deep, his cock dragging against the tight walls of his throat. Dazai can feel his swelling inside him, the heat of his body radiating through the thin skin of his shaft. The boy's eyes are watering now, a full tear falling from his cheek. Sadness or struggle? Either answer is enough for Mori, who catches it with his thumb before it can roll off the boy's cheek.
"There is is," he purrs, pressing the pad of his thumb against his lower eyelid. "I knew you'd break eventually." his grip in Dazai's hair tightens once more as he thrusts again, his cock hitting the back of his throat with enough to force to make his eyes water all over again.
"You're so perfect like this," he continues, voice rough, "All messy and helpless. I wonder if you'd cry if I fucked your face properly." His thumb drags down to the younger boy's lips again, smearing the salty tear across them. "Or would you just take it?"
Dazai's throat burns as Mori holds himself so deep inside, cock twitching against him, that thick vein running up it constantly pulsing with the man's heartbeat. With one last stroke of that puny face, Mori's hold returns to Dazai's wrist. The boy's fingers curl weakly in Mori's grip, who only tightens his hold, pressing his wrist against the armrest of the chair.
"Such a pretty mouth," he continues to muse, pulling back just enough to let the poor kid gasp for air before thrusting inside again to hear another whine. "You look so much better with my dick in your mouth than you do using it to complain all the time." He sighs, drawing a deep glare out of Dazai's.
"Oh, that look," he breathes, eyes softening in a cruel way, "Like you're angry. Like you have any right to be." his hips snap forward again, driving nice and deep into his throat before he can even inhale. The stretch burns, Dazai's body instinctively trying to reject him, but the man's grip on his brunette hair is ironclad.
"You hate this, don't you?" his voice drops to a husky whisper. "Hate that I can do whatever I want to you. Hate that your body betrays you every single time."
Now that Mori mentions it, Dazai notices his slacks are uncomfortably tight. He's right, his body does betray him. Just another thing the years of abuse have trained him to do.
Mori's smirk turns knowing as he notices the boy's realization, his grip shifting to cradle the back of his head instead of tug at it. "That's right," he purrs, rolling his hips in slow circles, "Your cock is getting hard just from this, fighting me with your eyes while your body begs for more."
The poor boy looks away from him in shame, unable to hold his fiery flare now that he's aware of his erection. Instead, he slowly bobs his head a bit--not for Mori, but so he can try and sneak some air into his lungs, choosing to focus on something else.
But Mori chuckles darkly, fingers fighting his hair once more as he forces his head back up, "Don't look away now. No, you can't hide from this." he muses, driving his dick in and out of his throat, enjoying the struggling noises from the boy below--most of note, the whimper that was just drawn from Dazai, vibrating around his cock only to rile him up more instead of entice pity like he could've hoped.
Mori's breath catches at the vibration of his whimper, his grip on his head tightening momentarily as he pulls him off his cock just enough to let him breathe.
"Fuck," the man growls, "That sound--" his hips jerk forward again, sliding back into the teen's mouth.
"Again," he demands, voice rough as he suddenly focuses, "Whimper for me again." he finally unhands Dazai's wrist, moving to press his hand to his chin to force him to make eye contact; something that never fails to arouse the older man more.
...and this time, instead of the boy's previous anger, his eyes are full of submission, brain fuzzy from both the alcohol and stimulation as the boy's dick rubs against the fabric of his own slacks. He is now sucking around his dick, almost like he forgot he was meant to hate it, whining as he bobs his heads shallowly.
Mori's eyes darken as he watches his teenager submit, a low groan rumbling within his chest. His hips roll in time with the boy's movements, cock sliding smoothly in and out of mouth, accompanied by the obscene noises of sex.
"I wonder how long you can keep this whore-ish attitude up before you beg me to cum down your throat." grunts the man, seemingly more like a voiced fantasy than something he actually expects. The hand on his face splays possessively, holding the boy still for a particularly deep thrust.
Dazai gags violently at this, both his hands now snapping to the older man's waist, fingers digging into the waistband of his slacks to be steadied, with the additional bonus of adding space between them now that Mori's thrusts are getting too regular.
Mori chuckles from above at that violent gag, his grip tight to keep the boy in place, affectively putting his efforts to put space between them to naught. "There we go," groans the man, "Fighting me again."
His hips roll deceptively slow, dragging his cock along his tongue as the skinny boy struggles to breathe. His hand leaves his face, resting on his shoulder instead, pressing down firmly.
There's a slight quiver in his grip; this will be over soon--he's getting close--and this encourages Dazai to return the bobbing of his head again, the promise of finishing up dispelling the last bits of his pride.
Mori's breathe catches as the teen starts moving again. "That's it," he grunts, hips jerking forward to match his movements. "Just like that, Osamu." his cock swells inside his mouth.
This elicits a shiver down Dazai's spine as he hears his name, disgust immediately filling his pores. How dare the Doctor pretend to have any respect for him.
But Mori groans at the shiver, mistaking it for pleasure. Or maybe he's willfully ignorant. "You like that, don't you?" he grunts, voice rough. His hips stutter, dick twitching in a vile way. "Hearing me say your name while I fuck your mouth."
Dazai doesn't think he could be more wrong.
The man's grip tightens, borderlining painful, as he holds him still, his other hand moving from his shoulder to the back of his neck, pressing him down as he thrusts one final time, buying himself far enough for his balls to be felt on the boy's chin.
Dazai whines around the adult's dick--impossibly deep--as another tear falls from his cheek, his throat strained.
So gross; but Dazai's fingers grip his hips in anticipation, swallowing around him, and it's just enough to elicit the older man's orgasm.
With a loud groan, Mori's cock pulses and twitches as he spills his release into his mouth, pulling slightly out so it doesn't go directly down Dazai's throat--no, that's too easy of a way out.
He curses under his breath, browns furrowed in pleasure. His hips jerk involuntarily as he pumps more cum into the teen's mouth, his grip in his hair loosening slightly as he comes down from his high. After a long moment, he pulls out, his softening dick glistening with saliva and cum, his hand leaving his neck to stroke out the last of it, smearing it on the young boy's lips to ensure his tip is completely clean of semen.
Once Mori finally pulls back, Dazai obediantly opens his mouth and looks up at him, trying to look angry but his own arousal instead just making him look annoyingly desperate.
This is something Mori has trained him to do; showing his mouth full of the older man's cum before swallowing. The shine in Mori's eyes shows he is proud to see the boy remembered despite his inebriated state.
Dazai was trained well even if he will never in his life admit it, even to himself.
"What a well-trained mutt," mutters Mori, the pride in his voice jabbing Dazai in the heart in the worst way possible. Mori let's go of his hair, moving to Dazai's jaw to press his mouth closed: permission to swallow.
Despite his disgust, he does just that, swallowing it all with only the softest of gags this time. He found it's easier to swallow if he doesn't think about what it is too hard.
Mori watches with rapt attention as the boy swallows, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip after. "You're disgusting, Dazai-kun." he murmurs in his sickly condescending tone, before letting go to step away from the teen. He wipes the tip of his flaccid dick on his fly before tucking himself back in, zipping up as though nothing happened. He stops for a moment to glance down at Dazai's erection, "I'll be leaving now. Take care of that if you want to." he says coldly as he adjusts his own clothes to look presentable.
Dazai grunts, "I don't want to." sounding as upset as ever, though he just comes across as a bratty boy. Truth is, the second Mori leaves he'll just submit to himself and jerk off like the horny teenager he is.
Mori obviously knows this, barking out a laugh at his petulant tone, shaking his head. "Of course you don't want to," he says, voice dripping with amusement. He turns toward the door, pausing just long enough to glance back at his boy over his shoulder. "But you will. And you'll think of me while you do it." his smirk is sharp as he opens the door, stepping out into the hallway without another word.
The door clicks shut behind him, leaving Dazai alone with his traitorous body and the lingering taste of him in his mouth.
And that he did, not even a minute later. Masturbating furiously on the chair to the thought of Mori. He's right, he 𝘪𝘴 disgusting.
He hates this, hates how easily the man gets under his skin, how easily his body betrays him.
But his cock doesn't care about his pride, it throbs in his grip and leaks over his fingers as he thinks about the way he was held down, the way he was used like a toy... the way he looked at him when he obeyed.
Thick ropes of cum splatter his tummy, sickly warm--so regretful.