Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Chuuya groans, rolling over in bed. The sun is barely up—yet apparently—he is. He rarely gets to sleep in because of his job, and the one day he isn’t needed at the office before noon, he wakes up early.

So every day he has to wake up early, he needs to drag his bones off the bed in agony, and the one day he could’ve slept in, he actually wakes up early? This has to be a cruel joke played by the universe.

The redhead pulls his blanket over his head in hope of making himself a dark little cocoon to hide in. He’s comfortable for a few minutes before it gets too hot and he has to throw the blanket off of himself.

Maybe he should get blinds. He really doesn’t need them since usually he’s never in bed before it’s dark and he always wakes up to his alarm so the brightness of the morning doesn’t bother him.

He tries to close his eyes and tries to find sleep again when his phone flashes with an incoming message.

Chuuya slowly opens his eyes if only to glare at his fucking phone. To his surprise, it isn’t his work-phone but his personal one. It’s sitting on the floor—for some unknown reason—and keeps flashing as messages flood in.

Chuuya sits up to throw his pillow at the device. Now the phone’s covered so it won’t bother him anymore, but now he also doesn’t have pillow. The redhead aggressively throws the blanket away and climbs up.

”This better be fucking important or I’m going to jail for murder to get some god damn sleep there”, he mutters under his breath, picking up his pillow an throwing it back onto his bed before reaching for his phone.

He opens the screen to find a message from his sister from yesterday—yikes, he should answer that soon—and four messages from a dating app he’s pretty sure he deleted.

Chuuya frowns. He thinks he only liked the profile of maybe three people, a tall brunet—well they were all tall brunets, not that Chuuya has a type—a Russian and a… The redhead can’t even remember anymore.

He’s pretty sure he deleted the app because nearly everyone there looked like shit, assholes, or just weren’t this type. He liked what? Three people? The chance of him matching with one of them were slim and Chuuya’s too busy to get his hopes up.

Hence he’s genuinely surprised to find out that the tall brunet matched with him, apparently.

He opens the DMs and reads through the four messages.

[Dazai Osamu]: This is a pleasant surprise.
[Dazai Osamu]: Didn’t think you’d find me attractive.
[Dazai Osamu]: No wait! Of course you would!! I’m insanely handsome, after all.
[Dazai Osamu]: What’s a beauty like you doing on an app like this?

Chuuya stares at the messages for a moment. This Dazai guy sounds like a bastard, but Chuuya has to admit he is insanely handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you stop on the street just to get a second look before starting to guess if the man is a celebrity—and most importantly—if he’s single.

And now the said insanely handsome man is calling Chuuya a beauty? Yeah, there’s no way he’s about to ghost this man even though it’s criminal how early in the morning it is. But it isn’t like Chuuya has anything better to do.

He sits back onto his bed, crossing his legs. Chuuya wonders if he should flirt or if he should be flattered about the comment. Being called pretty isn’t anything new to him, so he chooses to write a simple reply.

[You]: I don’t really have time to find dates because of work.

The answer comes almost immediately.

[Dazai Osamu]: Oh? So no handsome men in work to hit on, then?

[You]: It’s against work policy.

Mori Corporation doesn’t allow relationships within the workplace. If you were caught dating someone in the office, you and your partner would be fired without a second thought. It was so everyone would stay completely focused on their work. So far it has worked, Chuuya can tell.

[You]: So what’s a guy like you doing here?

[Dazai Osamu]: So you’re admitting I’m handsome?
[Dazai Osamu]: We’re on the same boat. Work.

[You]: I’m not blind.
[You]: So you’re a workaholic too?

[Dazai Osamu]: You could say so.
[Dazai Osamu]: A man like me is always needed.

Chuuya bites his lip not to write something cheesy like: ’Oh I can see that. I think I need you too.’ He might find the guy good-looking but so far nothing else has sparked within him after talking with the brunet for a moment. Annoyance maybe, but that’s all there is to it.

[You]: A man like you?

[Dazai Osamu]: Insanely handsome.
[Dazai Osamu]: Charmig.
[Dazai Osamu]: Smart.

[You]: I’m not sure how smart you can be if this is how you’re trying to be flirty.

[Dazai Osamu]: Oh? Is my charm not working on you, Chuuya?
[Dazai Osamu]: I can call you that, right?

Everyone Chuuya knows calls him Chuuya, though some of the people in his team still stubbornly keep calling him ’Nakahara-san’. He’s told the older Akutagawa to call him Chuuya maybe a thousand times but the youngster still hasn’t obeyed.

[You]: I suppose.
[You]: So, should I call you Osamu, then?

[Dazai Osamu]: Not a single person who knows me calls me that.
[Dazai Osamu]: Everyone just calls me Dazai.

[You]: I can be different.

[Dazai Osamu]: Well, I’m not going to say no to you, baby.

Chuuya blinks at the pet name. He wasn’t expecting Osamu to call him that and it sets a flutter down his spine. Since Chuuya’s never really been expert about dealing with feeling weird like this, he responds with what he knows the best. Anger.

[You]: Why did you even ask if you could call me Chuuya if you’re not even going to call me that, idiot?

The brunet doesn’t seem fazed by Chuuya’s answer.

[Dazai Osamu]: Is that a a new pet name I haven’t heard of? Should I call you ’idiot’ too?

[You]: I can call you ’Asshole’ or ’Bastard’ if you’d prefer it.

[Dazai Osamu]: Am I getting rejected here? No need to dance around it if I am, Chibi.

Chuuya bites his cheek. The guy is handsome, yes, and being angry was just a defensive mechanism for the redhead since he wasn’t sure how to deal with the flirting. Chuuya also finds the brunet somewhat amusing, but the redhead isn’t really looking for a relationship right now. He barely has time for himself. There’s no way he’d find the energy to keep up a steady romance.

He decides to focus on an another thing while he decides what he should write. Because, no, he isn’t rejecting the brunet, but he isn’t really looking for a relationship either.

[You]: Chibi?
[You]: Don’t call me that!

[Dazai Osamu]: Your profile says you’re 160cm.
[Dazai Osamu]: That makes you a Chibi because you’re so short~
[Dazai Osamu]: Also, are you purposefully avoiding my question?
[Dazai Osamu]: A way to give a man false hope.

Chuuya’s not sure how, but he just can hear the dramatic sigh behind that message.

[You]: I’m not really looking for a relationship.
[You]: Doesn’t mean that I’m rejecting you.

[Dazai Osamu]: Oh? So Chibikko’s looking for a one night stand?
[Dazai Osamu]: Hm?

[You]: I’m not.

Chuuya instantly writes, a flush climbing up his cheeks for no good reason.

[You]: I’m just too busy with work.

[Dazai Osamu]: So… You’re not looking for a handsome man like me to fuck you senseless but you’re not looking for a relationship either? This app isn’t for finding friends.
[Dazai Osamu]: Or maybe it is ;)

[You]: Gross.

Chuuya’s lost with what to write because his mind is too busy thinking about having sex with Osamu… and he can’t say he’s entirely objectionable towards the idea.

[Dazai Osamu]: Did I make you speechless?
[Dazai Osamu]: Maybe you ARE looking for someone to fuck you senseless.

[You]: Shut up.
[You]: I’m a busy person.

Chuuya can remember the last time he had enough time to look for someone hot and attractive enough to fuck him, and that was ages ago. It’s been seven months since he’s last had sex… He is totally up for it. And even if he is’t, he’s certain his dick would be.

[Dazai Osamu]: But you aren’t denying it?
[Dazai Osamu]: I’m not looking for anything serious either right now.
[Dazai Osamu]: In fact, I just got back into the country.
[Dazai Osamu]: I’ll be an insanely handsome and busy person starting from tomorrow, too.

[You]: So you aren’t insanely handsome now?

[Dazai Osamu]: You’ve seen my profile.
[Dazai Osamu]: You tell me ;)

[You]: Why are we even talking if we’re both insanely busy and if either of us isn’t looking for anything serious?

[Dazai Osamu]: Because, Chibikko, I certainly want you in my bed.
[Dazai Osamu]: You busy today?

Chuuya stares at the message for a moment. If it isn’t an invite to be fucked then nothing is. But is he busy today? Today is basically the closest thing he has to a free-day, considering he’s only needed at the office around noon and only for a one meeting.

He clearly takes too long to reply because Osamu sends another message.

[Dazai Osamu]: I hope you’re checking your schedule instead of trying to figure out how to block me.
[Dazai Osamu]: Was I too forward?
[Dazai Osamu]: I promise you’ll never need to talk to me again after today ;)

’Fuck it’, Chuuya thinks. He’s got nothing to lose—and just as Osamu said—he’ll never need to see the man again.

[You]: I have a meeting at noon but otherwise I’m free.

[Dazai Osamu]: So you WERE checking your schedule.
[Dazai Osamu]: When does the meeting end?

[You]: It won’t last more than three hours.
[You]: Hopefully.
[You]: I should be free after it.

[Dazai Osamu]: Perfect ;)
[Dazai Osamu]: What would you say about meeting at a coffee shop around 4 PM.
[Dazai Osamu]: After all, I don’t think either of us is going to do much sleeping tonight ;)

[You]: Works for me.

Chuuya replies, ignoring all of the brunet’s suggestive comments. He knows what he is agreeing to, damn it. He doesn’t need the extra teasing.

Also, meeting at a coffee shop sounds much better than meeting the guy at some less-public place. Chuuya isn’t stupid and knows that people always aren’t what they say, so if anyone different than the guy in the picture in Osamu’s profile shows up, Chuuya will run.

He has the most protective sister ever, of course he knows better than to meet with a complete stranger.

[You]: But how can I know you’re actually who you say you are?
[You]: Maybe you’re just some creepy old man.

[Dazai Osamu]: I’m hurt, Chibi :(
[Dazai Osamu]: [picture]

Chuuya waits for the picture to load with furrowed brows. His eyes widen when he sees that Osamu is indeed Osamu. The picture is of a handsome brunet wearing a suit that looks expensive as hell—Chuuya would know, he wears clothes that are expensive as hell—and he’s holding his hand, which isn’t taking the picture, so that his index finger and thumb form a heart.

But how can Chuuya tell this is a picture Osamu just took? Well, because between the finger heart, there’s a small piece of paper which reads: ’I’m hurt Chibi :(’.

However, after Chuuya’s done ogling, the first thing that enters his mind isn’t that the bastard should stop calling him Chibi, but:

[You]: Why are you wearing a suit at this time?
[You]: It’s so early it’s criminal.

[Dazai Osamu]: Early? You mean late?
[Dazai Osamu]: Also, I said I just got back into the country. I meant it.

[You]: Late?
[You]: LATE??
[You]: What kind of a monster are you??

The sun is finally up, shining through Chuuya’s curtains and illuminating his room in warm light. But it certainly isn’t late. It’s early as shit. The redhead supposes he could ignore Osamu being dressed for work this criminally early since the guy just came back to the country.

[Dazai Osamu]: I’m a work-monster.
[Dazai Osamu]: I’m a monster somewhere else too ;)
[Dazai Osamu]: Also
[Dazai Osamu]: How can I know YOU are who you say you are?

Chuuya looks at the message and feels the urge to punch something. He looks at the state of his room—his pillow has fallen onto the floor, the said floor being filled with shit—and he pulls at the oversized shirt he sleeps in. It’ll do. He thinks it makes him look cute. Chuuya snaps a quick picture, holding his middle finger in front of his face.

It’s only fair he sends a picture too, after all.

[You]: [picture]

[Dazai Osamu]: Maybe you should look for clothes at the children’s section.
[Dazai Osamu]: That shirt looks way too big for you, Chibi.

[You]: Stop calling me Chibi, bandaged bastard.

Chuuya noticed the brunet was wearing bandages as he had in the pictures in his profile. The redhead doubted they were part of Osamu’s fashion but he wouldn’t put it past the bastard.

[You]: And I’m not that small!!

[Dazai Osamu]: I bet you are.
[Dazai Osamu]: So you really have red hair and blue eyes?

[You]: What about?

[Dazai Osamu]: Nothing. Just exotic.
[Dazai Osamu]: Luckily I like my stuff like that.

[You]: Oi!
[You]: I’m not your ’stuff’.

[Dazai Osamu]: Aw :(
[Dazai Osamu]: So you’re not into that?
[Dazai Osamu]: Any kinks?

Chuuya flushes and instantly wants to hit himself because he’s past the age when talking about stuff like this makes him embarrassed. Being twenty-two doesn’t, however, help him with actually managing to write what he’s into.

[Dazai Osamu]: Did I make Chibi embarrassed?
[Dazai Osamu]: You’re lucky I like a good mystery too ;)
[Dazai Osamu]: I’ll just find out myself.

[You]: Whatever.
[You]: So
[You]: A coffee shop at 4 PM?

[Dazai Osamu]: Yes.
[Dazai Osamu]: Do you know the one called ’Decay of the Angel’ around XXXX?

[You]: Yeah.
[You]: It’s actually pretty close to my workplace.

[Dazai Osamu]: Then doesn’t that work out perfectly?
[Dazai Osamu]: I’ll be seeing you then, Chibikko <3

[You]: Yeah.
[You]: Bye, asshole.

Chuuya stares at his phone for a few more minutes—like an idiot—just in case the guy writes a reply. Nothing comes through so Chuuya supposes the next time he’ll talk with Osamu will be face-to-face. He just hopes the guy is as handsome in reality as he is in pictures.

The redhead groans and flops off the bed to start being productive.

At noon Chuuya’s out of his house and sitting inside of a meeting room at Mori Corporation.

He decided to dress up for meeting with Osamu before coming to his office because with his luck, the meeting would stretch way over 3 PM and he’d be running to the coffee shop to make it on time.

His hair is curled up more than usual and he threw on some makeup—mostly eyeliner and mascara—but he didn’t bother dressing any different from the way he usually does. After all, Chuuya always dresses up nicely.

He’s sitting next to Hirotsu and chatting idly with the older man. They’re having a bigger meeting since the fifth Executive of Mori Corporation is finally coming back after spending nearly three years overseas.

Chuuya’s doing great because he doesn’t even know the guy’s name—apparently everyone is afraid to say the Demon Prodigy’s name aloud. Chuuya can’t understand why everyone fears him so much. He’s just a man, though Chuuya supposes he can’t say anything since he hasn’t met the guy before.

It’s probably the Executive’s position that stirs fear. He’s apparently going to take over the business one day. But Chuuya still needs a name to address the man by. After all, it isn’t like he can call the Demon Prodigy, the Demon Prodigy, to the said Demon Prodigy’s face. He’s an ancient myth at the office but Chuuya has never met him—the redhead wonders how he has never heard the man’s real name or seen a picture.

”Hirotsu-san”, Chuuya starts. ”The Executive coming back from overseas… what’s his name?”

”Are you certain you want to know? People tend to say it’s better off not knowing his name. No one really wants to talk with him”, Hirotsu says, his eyes zeroing away with a faraway look like he’s remembering something traumatizing.

”Really? Why?” Chuuya still asks. Blame him for being curious.

Hirotsu’s eyes focus back onto the redhead. ”He’s… too smart, to put it simply. Nothing ever pleases him and he keeps telling you to do everything better until he just decides that he should rather do it himself. But no one can talk against him since he contributes about half of all the profit we make. Most of the business plans are made by him.”
Chuuya tsks. ”He sounds like a jerk. A smart jerk, but still a jerk. However, I do want to know-”

”He also has the most horrible punishments. I’d rather work over-time for a year than go through another one of those”, Hirotsu continues. ”He once made me sit in his office for hours until I beat a level of a video game while staring me down.”

”He what?” Chuuya asks, trying hard not to laugh. He takes calling the guy a jerk back.

”You heard me”, Hirotsu says with a pointed look.

Chuuya would love to play video games instead of woking, any day. He can’t see how that’s such a horrible punishment, though he can see how nerve-racking it can be to be stared down by a superior.

”Yeah, yeah. But I still want to know his name. After all, I’m the one who deals with Executives when it comes to my floor—” Yes, Chuuya manages a floor and he’s damn proud about it. ”—so I’d rather know his name when I see him for the first time.” Chuuya has dealt with all of the other four Executives over the past two years he has worked at Mori Corporation since the Executive in charge of his floor was out of the country.

”Alright”, Hirotsu says, but as he opens his mouth to reveal the Executive’s name, Piano Man walks in.

He claps his hands together and smiles brightly. ”Alright everyone. Let’s get this meeting started so we can all get out of this stuffy office.

Chuuya makes a mental note to ask for the name later but as the meeting stretches on, by the end of it, he’s already forgotten the whole Executive. He’s busier checking his makeup from his phone’s front camera.

It’s half past three—the meeting lasted longer than anticipated again, what a surprise—hence the redhead isn’t in a hurry just yet. It’s a fifteen minute walk to the Decay of the Angel, so he can relax for a while longer.

”Got a hot date?” Albatross asks, leaning onto the back of Chuuya’s seat and smiling at him.

”No”, Chuuya says, fixing his hair and not paying any attention to the annoying man.

The other floor leaders on the ’Flags’ section of the building have all given each other weird nicknames, but so far Chuuya has gladly been saved from the horrible faith. Though, he’s pretty sure they’re calling him ’Baby Red’ when he’s not listening.

”You’re a terrible liar”, Albatross says, flopping into the seat Hirotsu had been occupying earlier. ”So… who is it?”

”No one you know”, Chuuya says. He doesn’t actually know if Albatross knows Osamu but he isn’t about to start blabbering about the guy he’s planning to have sex with and nothing more. "Don’t you have work?"

The meeting room has already emptied out at a record time. Everyone’s busy preparing their floors for the new Executive. Chuuya made his people clean his floor during the previous week already, since he’s not stupid like everyone else is, apparently.

Albatross pouts before standing up and waving Chuuya a goodbye. ”I do”, he says, looking defeated. ”We always have work. Maybe I should just start working at a flower-shop, or something.”

Chuuya rolls his eyes at the man but waves back anyways. He knows neither of them won’t be quitting, no matter how much work they have. The pay is fifty times better than at the grocery store Chuuya had worked at before, and he’s getting used to his lavish style of living. He isn’t going back to living at the dumb he used to now that he owns a penthouse.

He also knows Albatross has a pretty expensive hobby. The man has a different motorcycle for every day of the week, and he cares for them like they’re his children. Actually, no. Albatross cares for his vehicles better than he would ever care for actual children.

Chuuya gets up from his seat and flicks off the lights of the meeting room, locking the door behind him. He still has about twenty-five minutes before he’s set to meet Osamu, but he supposes strolling towards the café already wouldn’t hurt.

The elevator ride down is uneventful just as the walk to the café is. Chuuya arrives ten minutes early and he decides to go in and find a table to sit and wait at.

To his surprise, the café is quite busy. The first thing he sees is a group of girls who are flocking in front of the counter and talking to themselves about something. When Chuuya get closer, he hears them talking about this ’incredibly sexy man at the back of the café’, and because Chuuya’s just a man—an incredibly gay man—he has to turn and look.

To his surprise, and embarrassment, he finds Osamu already sitting at one of the tables. His eyes are clued to Chuuya and their eyes meet the second the redhead turns to look.

”Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals. "I think he’s staring at me!!"

’Nope’, Chuuya thinks. ’He’s looking at me’. The redhead walks towards the table the brunet is sitting at, and fuck. If Osamu looked great in pictures, he looks outright magnificent in real life.

It’s Osamu’s eyes that catch Chuuya’s gaze. Yeah, the hair looks soft and the grey suit is nice, as is his build, but his eyes look like gold under the sun which is shining through the window. Chuuya’s fairly certain he currently looks like a sleepwalking zombie, but he’s never seen anyone as effortlessly handsome as Osamu.

”Hey”, Chuuay starts, feeling kind of awkward. ”You’re early.”

”Well so are you, Chuuya”, Osamu says and Chuuya’s knees feel weak. He feels the urge to kick himself for it, but instead he sits down across from the brunet.

There’s a moment of silence and Chuuya wants the floor to shallow him whole. He’s never been in a situation like this. It’s not a date but a meetup because they agreed to fuck. What is he supposed to say? ’So are we gonna fuck on this table or are you gonna take me somewhere else?’

A waitress gladly comes to his rescue. "Would you like the order something?" She asks and she’s obviously eyeing Osamu in a way which suggest she wants him to order her.

Osamu doesn’t turn to look away from Chuuya. ”A coffee. Make it black.”

Chuuya’s glad he knows the café beforehand and has been there before so he knows what to order. ”A cappuccino, thanks”, he says, turning to look at the waitress briefly.

”Anything else?” She asks, rudely not even glancing at Chuuya. He’s aware Osamu is handsome as hell but it still isn’t a reason to be rude.

”Are you hungry?” Osamu asks him, his eyes still not straying away from Chuuya. The man’s looking at him like he can’t wait to devour Chuuya and the redhead would be lying if he says it doesn’t turn him on a little.

”Uh”, Chuuya’s suddenly flustered and he turns back to the waitress in favor of escaping Osamu’s gaze. ”An egg sandwich, thanks.”

The waitress scribbles something down to her notepad but she still doesn’t even turn to glance at Chuuya. ”What about you, Mr?” The waitress asks Osamu.

”Nothing”, he says, not acknowledging her at all. She lingers for a few moments before disappearing.

Chuuya huffs. ”She was so rude. I understand you’re handsome but she didn’t even glance towards me.”

”Jealous?” Osamu asks, an amused smirk playing on his lips.

”No”, Chuuya says, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. He plasters the best smirk he can manage onto his face. ”After all, I’m the one who’s getting your attention.”

Osamu hums. His eyes sparkle like he’s intrigued by Chuuya and the redhead can’t but feel smug about it. ”You never told me you came with tacky hats.”

”Well I’m not going to be wearing it for long, am I?” Chuuya asks, feeling bold. "And my hat isn’t tacky!"

”Yes it is, Chibi”, Osamu says, his voice sounding like a deep rumble.

Chuuya rolls his eyes, trying his best not to blush. ”At least I’m not wearing a maroon scarf and a wheat tie. Have you any idea how hard those clash, Osamu?”

The man looks more fazed by the fact Chuuya called him ’Osamu’ than commenting on his style. Maybe he should’ve called him Dazai instead, staying respectful like his sister had taught him, but he had called the man Osamu in his head and if the brunet didn’t outright tell him not to call him that, Chuuya wasn’t planning on stopping.

”The scarf was a gift from my boss and since I was on a call with him earlier, it seemed like the easiest way to show my respect towards him”, Osamu says. He sighs. ”Though I can’t say I’ve missed the man.”

”A difficult boss?” Chuuya scoffs. ”I know. I’ve had to deal with different superiors for years and I can say I want to strangle each one of them for a different reason.”

Osamu looks amused and his lips quirk up. ”Oh no. My boss loves me”, the brunet states. ”I just hate him more than anything.”

Chuuya raises a brow but he doesn’t have time to reply because the same waitress comes back with their coffee and Chuuya’s sandwich. ”A black coffee for you”, she says, placing the coffee in front of Osamu and quite obviously trying to pop-out her boobs while doing so. This time she briefly looks at Chuuya while placing his cappuccino and sandwich down.

”Thank you”, he says, but the waitress, once again, completely ignores him.

She leaves faster this time as she realizes Osamu only has eyes for Chuuya. It makes him feel weird. Like he’s the only thing in the room Osamu wants. Shit. Maybe he is into that. The brunet owning him.

”So”, Dazai starts casually, taking a sip of his coffee. ”Do you prefer we use your place or should we rather go to a hotel?”

Chuuya nearly chokes on his sandwich but manages not to embarrass himself. ”I think a hotel would be better”, he admits. He never bothered to clean the floor of his bedroom and he’s not about to take Osamu there.

The brunet nods, taking another sip of his coffee. His eyes never leave Chuuya’s face and the redhead is starting to feel hot. Dazai suddenly places his hand on top of Chuuya’s, which had been sitting on the table, and leans closer.

His breath ghosts against Chuuya’s cheek. ”I bet you’d look great flushed against a window with an ocean view behind you. The sea would bring out your eyes nicely.” The man takes Chuuya’s hair between his fingers and hums. ”It’s soft.”

This time Chuuya does choke, and he covers his mouth not to cough all over Osamu’s face.

”Oh dear”, the man breathes, clearly amused. ”Was that too much for you? Maybe a princess like you would require a bed, after all.”

”Oi! You’re the princess here, bandaged bastard”, Chuuya says, holding his chin high. ”And I was just surprised, that’s all.”

”It comes with the insults too”, Chuuya hears the man mutter before he starts loudly with an exaggerated tone, ”Oh yes, I’m the Snow White and you’re the Prince who rescues me!” Osamu says it over-dramatically, even lifting one of his hands over his head. Chuuya does not stare at how his muscles flex as he does that. He does not!

The redhead rolls his eyes and tries not to be so obvious about his staring. He hides behind his cup, taking a sip of his cappuccino.

”But if you were just surprised… that means you’re not opposed to the idea, are you?” Osamu asks and Chuuya has to do his best not to choke, again. ”I take that flush as a yes”, Osamu says and he looks so damn pleased Chuuya wants to kick him.

In fact, he does. He kicks the brunet’s shin underneath the table. ”Shut up”, he mutters, his blush spreading further up his face. He’s glad Osamu is the one facing the rest of the café, so he’s the only one seeing Chuuya’s flush.

”Ow”, Osamu says, but he’s obviously not hurt. ”Chibi’s so mean”, he says with a pout but he doesn’t appear angry at all.

Chuuya chucks the rest of his coffee down and places the empty cup on top of his plate. ”Maybe you should punish me then, Sir.”, Chuuya breathes, mustering up the most innocent look he can manage.

Osamu gasps quietly. ”Oh. You’re a little demon, aren’t you?” The brunet doesn’t look like he’s shocked at what Chuuya just said. No. He looks like he wants to lay Chuuya on the table and fuck him in front of the whole café. ”We’re leaving”, he states.

Osamu stands up and puts a stack of cash on the table. It’s obviously way too much—and the rude waitress definitely doesn’t deserve so much tip—but when the brunet grabs Chuuya’s arm and pulls his up from his seat while raising a suggestive brow, the redhead can’t find it in himself to care.

Then he realizes just how much taller Osamu is than him. He knew the man is tall—191 centimeters, was it?—but the way he looms over Chuuya’s smaller form is just outright ominous. Thirty centimeters isn’t that much, but somehow Osamu makes it look like it is.

Chuuya allows the brunet to lead him out of the café, and as soon as they are out and walking towards what Chuuya thinks is the nearest hotel, he’s suddenly being pulled into an alleyway and then Osamu’s breath is ghosting over his lips.

”You’re really so short, Chibikko~ I fear I’ll break my back if I need to bend down like this~” the brunet teases.

Chuuya understands. He feels like his neck is breaking because how much he has to crank his head back to look into Osamu’s eyes, but he really doesn’t care. He pulls Osamu’s wheat colored tie and brings their mouths together.

The redhead can feels a smirk grow against his lips but he doesn’t have the chance to comment on it—nor does he want to—because he’s too busy trying to pull the brunet closer. Osamu cradles his head and tilts his chin so their mouths slot together in a perfect angle.

Azure eyes look into chestnut brown ones before Chuuya gasps and closes his eyes as a tongue instantly presses past his lips and into his mouth. It too good. Maybe it’s because Chuuya hasn’t kissed anyone in over half a year or maybe it’s because of how Osamu is pulling him closer by his waist, pressing their bodies together impossibly closer, and how he holds Chuuya so gently while he tries to devour the redhead’s mouth.

Chuuya’s eyes open as a small moan slips past his lips, a blush instantly rising high on his cheeks. That’s when Osamu chooses to pull back, licking his lips. There’s a satisfied smile resting on the brunet’s lips, likes he’s enjoying the sight in front of him. Bastard.

Osamu’s hand is still on Chuuya’s waist and it’s burning a mark on his skin. It feels like his skin is on fire and he desperately needs to get out of his clothes. He desperately needs Osamu’s hands on his skin without the barrier of clothes between them.

Chuuya raises a brow, and before he knows it, Osamu’s hand is holding his and pulling him through the busy street. Chuuya’s head is swimming for more than one reason. The kiss left his mind hazy, but the way the taller man is pulling him through the crowds like Chuuya’s helpless and would get lost on his own—and the way Osamu keeps checking over his shoulder that Chuuya’s not struggling to keep up… it makes Chuuya’s stomach flutter with butterflies.

The redhead’s too busy staring Osamu’s sharp features to even notice that they’ve already walking inside a hotel’s lobby. They stop in front of the register and Chuuya’s hand feels tingly, missing Osamu’s touch, as soon as the man lets go.

”How can I help you?” The young boy working as the receptionist asks.

”We would like a room. Something with an ocean view, preferably”, Osamu says, glancing at Chuuya with a glint in his eyes.

The redhead instantly blushes. Because gosh. The idea was nice and definitely made something stir in his stomach, but he didn’t think Osamu would actually go though with it.

”Yes. We have a few rooms with an ocean view”, The boy says. ”Do you want two separate beds-”

”Nope”, Osamu says happily, cutting the poor receptionist off. ”One bed will be just fine. A king sized would be perfect.” The brunet has a smirk on his lips, telling the receptionist exactly why the two on them are getting a room.

Now the poor boy is blushing just as much as Chuuya is. He feels the urge to apologize for the trouble Osamu’s causing but he’s not planning on coming to the hotel anytime soon. Preferably never again.

”O-okay”, the receptionist says, clicking a few buttons before taking out keycards.

Osamu pays with a black card. Chuuya knew the man has money, but that he has that much money? Chuuya doesn’t feel even remotely bad that the brunet has been paying for everything so far.

As soon as they’re in the elevator Osamu’s mouth is on his again. Chuuya gasps and eagerly responds to the kiss as soon as the brunet’s tongue invades his mouth again. A hungry noise escapes Chuuya’s throat when Osamu’s tongue rolls over his.

The brunet lifts Chuuya up, making his gasp. The kiss is so much better like this. Their mouths slot together like they were made to be kissing each other, and now that Chuuya’s neck isn’t aching, it’s one hundred percent pleasure.

When he feels the bulge in Osamu’s pants pressing against his ass, he can’t help the desperate sound that leaves his mouth. Chuuya needs that inside of himself.

The elevator doors ding open and Osamu breaks the kiss. Chuuya whines in protest and the brunet sets him down, pressing a finger on top of his lips which turn down into a pout.

”Take it easy, kitten. If you kiss me now we’re never making it inside the room”, Osamu breathes. His fingers are burning against Chuuya’s skin where they’re tucking his shirt off of his pants and slipping under the fabric.

”Fuck”, Chuuya says, out of breath. ”Then why are we still inside this damned elevator?” He cocks his head and raises a brow.

Osamu looks amused. He tucks Chuuya’s shirt before turning and walking out, the elevator doors nearly shutting on them. The room gladly isn’t far from the elevator-lobby and the door clicks open easily.

Osamu holds the door open for him and Chuuya scoffs. What a gentleman, who was groping his ass in an elevator while kissing him breathless not even a minute ago.

The view would steal Chuuya’s breath away if he didn’t have a similar one from his kitchen and bedroom. He kicks his shoes off but still walks closer to the window. That’s when he realizes they’re in the highest floor.

Chuuya gasps when he feels his jacket being thrown away from his shoulders and Osamu’s body pressing against his. The man envelopes his smaller form completely from behind and Chuuya can feel the brunet’s body against every inch on his back.

”You like the view?” Osamu asks, his breath hot against Chuuya’s ear. His fingers are already undoing the redhead’s vest at a record speed. Chuuya’s hat was thrown away as soon as Osamu reached his body. ”I certainly do”, the brunet says, and Chuuya knows for a fact he isn’t talking about the scenery.

”It’s alright”, Chuuya says, before pushing Osamu’s arms down from his chest and spinning around. ”But I think I like this one better.”

Osamu’s lips quirk up, obviously loving the game Chuuya’s playing. His fingers return to undoing Chuuya’s vest and the redhead takes it to himself to fling the brunet’s scarf away before tucking at the man’s tie.

”So many layers”, Osamu mutters. ”Aren’t you hot?” He asks, impatience deep in his voice.

”Aren’t you hot?” Chuuya snipes back with a raised brow. ”After all, you were wearing a scarf.” His hands brush off the grey suit jacket, his fingers splaying over Osamu’s black dress shirt. He can feel the well kept muscles underneath. ”You’re wearing all these layers too, bandaged bastard”, Chuuya hisses against Osamu’s lips.

They’re kissing before the brunet can shoot a remark back at Chuuya. Tongues sliding against each other while they both race over who can get the other’s shirt unbuttoned first now that Chuuya’s vest is discharged onto the floor too.

A victorious noise leaves Chuuya’s throat as he manages to get the black dress shirt Osamu’s wearing unbuttoned first. The noise is instantly transformed into a moan which leans into being a whimper when Osamu twist Chuuya’s nipple between his fingers. The redhead’s back arches into the touch, Osamu encouraging the natural arch of his back.

Chuuya’s shirt is the first one the fall onto the floor and he can only pant as Osamu moves the nip at his jawline. The man’s kisses slowly climb towards Chuuya’s ear.

The redhead is on his tiptoes and Osamu’s back in bend like he’s hunching over paperwork. The height difference makes everything difficult but somehow it’s also so much better this way. The way Chuuya’s whole body trembles under the onslaught because he’s struggling to stay on his tiptoes. It makes heat flare in his stomach.

Chuuya’s fingers splay on Dazai’s chest and he plays with the edge of the bandages by the nape of the man’s neck. His whole body seems to be wrapped in them and even though Chuuya desperately wants a glimpse of the man’s obviously muscled skin, it feels too much like prying.

And he’s also too out of his head to even manage to push the black dress shirt off of the man’s shoulders—but that’s irrelevant. What is revenant is how Osamu’s lips wrap over his pulse point and suck, and how one of his hands is slowly sneaking up Chuuya’s wrist and under his glove to pull it off.

His skin feels hyper-sensitive to everything like he’s a teenager all over again—it must be the seven months he’s been without being touched intimately like this. By the time his gloves are off and Dazai’s nippling the skin below his choker, Chuuya’s a panting mess.

He’s hard inside his pants and he wants to kick them off more than anything. ”Osamu”, the redhead breathes.

The brunet’s eyes instantly fly to look into Chuuya’s azure ones. ”Yes?” He asks, voice low and husky. He raises a brow and Chuuya feels annoyed by it.

”Hurry the fuck up”, he says, fingers hooking into Osamu’s belt before starting to pull it open.

”Easy, kitten”, Osamu breathes, cupping Chuuya’s cheek and lifting his chin up so his head in bend back completely. The brunet stood up to his complete height again and he’s towering over Chuuya. ”Hide your claws so I don’t need to punish you.”

Chuuya thinks he wants Osamu to punish him. When finger’s pull his fly open and large hands start to push down his pants, all the redhead can mange is a shaky nod.

”Use your words, kitten”, Osamu orders and Chuuya feels the urge to kick the asshole.

But he doesn’t because he needs this. He needs to be fucked roughly and if it means being a little submissive for Osamu… Fuck. It isn’t like they’re going to see each other again. Chuuya can throw some of his dignity out of the window he’s pressed against.

Hence he musters the best look he knows to be breathtaking on his face and looks at Osamu through half-lidded eyes. ”Yes… Sir.”

The brunet goes rigid before his eyes flash with hunger and Chuuya’s pants are pushed off onto the floor along his underwear. The redhead gasps when Osamu effortlessly picks him up and pins him against the cool glass.

”I was right”, The brunet says, sounding smug. ”You look perfect like this.”

Chuuya flushes at the comment and gasps when he feels lubed fingers sliding down his back. He has no idea when Osamu managed to do that but he does see the lube that’s peeking from the pocket of Osamu’s pants. Has it been there all this time?

Chuuya flutters his eyelashes, forgetting about being embarrassed because he needs Osamu’s fingers inside him right at this instant. ”Only for you, Sir.” The Sir. is clearly turning Osamu on and Chuuya’s not hesitating to use it for his own good.

It clearly works, because of soon a the title leaves Chuuya’s mouth, a long finger pushes inside him, all the way to the last knuckle.

Chuuya gasps at the sudden intrusion, his nails digging into Osamu’s still clothed back. He clings to the brunet, his thighs squeezing around the man’s waist. His legs tremble when he feels another fingers press against his rim.

”Ah…” Chuuya’s pretty sure there are tears of pleasure and relief running down his cheeks and staining his makeup, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He just wants the bandaged bastard to just fucking fuck him already.

”Too much?” Osamu asks, his finger teasing the redhead’s rim. ”If you can’t even handle this, I’m afraid you can’t handle me, kitten”, Osamu whispers hotly against his ear before pulling Chuuya’s reddened earlobe between his teeth.

Chuuya’s throat is hoarse with need when he does his best to talk. ”M-more… Please, Sir.”

He can feel how Osamu’s lips quirk into a smirk and then the finger that’s been slowly pumping in and out of Chuuya retreats—making the redhead whine—before he’s suddenly filled by two.

Chuuya moans, the fingers plunging in deep and hitting his prostate. The burn is far from pleasant but the pleasure is enough to outdo it. The redhead clings onto the taller man like his life depends on it, while Osamu covers Chuuya’s neck in bruises and opens Chuuya up by scissoring his fingers.

”O-Osamu”, Chuuya whines, trying to grind onto anything. To either chase the pleasure of Osamu’s fingers or try to create some kind of simulation to his flushed cock by pressing it against the brunet’s bandaged abs.

The man’s fingers suddenly still and they’re so deep. Chuuya gasps, his fingers desperately clawing the taller man’s shoulders. The constant pressure on his prostate is driving Chuuya crazy but it’s not enough.

”Is that what you call me, kitten?” Osamu asks and Chuuya thinks he’s never been so turned on by being called a cat.

”No-no”, Chuuya manages, trying to rock onto Osamu’s fingers but the brunet presses him harder against the window, Chuuya’s legs spreading wider so the taller man fits between them, pressing impossibly closer.

The redhead is trapped between the window and the brunet and he has no other choice than to bend to Osamu’s will—literally.

The brunet hums. ”So, what do you call me, kitten?” Osamu asks, his breath hot against Chuuya’s cheek.

”Please, Sir.” the redhead whines, shedding the last of his dignity. He’s clinging to the thought of ’I’m never going to see him again’. ”Won’t you fuck me, Sir?” He asks, blinking innocently.

The man holding him up growls. ”Are you sure you can take it?” Osamu teases a third finger next to the other two and Chuuya frantically nods. ”Use your words, kitten.”

”Yes, Sir. I can take it, Sir.” The redhead says.

Fingers pull out and Chuuya gasps at the sudden emptiness. He tries to suppress the whine but when he can’t manage, he presses his lips against Osamu’s. The kiss is sloppy and Osamu tries to open his fly while keeping Chuuya steady against the window.

”Hold on tight”, the man says between kisses, before he surges to make Chuuya breathless with his lips and tongue. Then the strong grip on Chuuya’s ass that’s been keeping him up disappears and the smaller man yelps, wrapping his arms tight around Osamu’s neck.

The brunet chuckles, both of his arms now working on getting a condom onto his… fucking HUGE dick. Chuuya feels saliva drip down his chin from between where his and Dazai’s mouths are connected. The redhead can only whine in impatience while Osamu slicks his dick with lube—which is apparently strawberry-flavored—before he feels the tip press against his hole.

”Please-” Chuuya tries, his words instantly being cut off by a kiss. He needs it but suddenly he’s not so sure anymore about can he really take it. Osamu’s fingers grip his ass and spread his cheeks, his dick sliding over the cleft.

The redhead lets out a whimper which turns into a moan as soon as the tip of Osamu’s cock pushes past his rim. He’s fucking massive and Chuuya feels like his breath is pushed out of his lungs.

Chuuya throws his head back against the glass and Osamu’s mouth instantly closes over his neck, his tongue pressing under Chuuya’s choker. The cock enters him so god damn slowly it’s pure torture and it feels like it goes on for-fucking-ever.

When Osamu finally stops, his balls pressing against Chuuya’s ass, they both breathe out in relief. ”Look how well you took me, kitten”, Osamu coos, kissing Chuuya’s cheek.

The redhead hums, opening his eyes that are filling with tears of pleasure. He didn’t even realize he’d closed them. ”My- my hole’s meant for you, Sir.” Chuuya says.

He’s past to point of giving a fuck about what he says to this handsome man who’s here to fuck him senseless. It’s working and the mere fact Chuuya never needs to look into his chestnut eyes ever again after this is helping. It’s helping a lot.

Chuuya can just let the fuck go and allow Osamu dominate over him.

Osamu’s eyes glint with wolfish glee when the words leave Chuuya’s mouth. He thrusts up and Chuuya screams. His body slides up the window and his fingers bury into brown locks. The man’s hair is as soft as it looks and perfect for holding onto.

Osamu sets a faster pace, pressing closer to Chuuya and biting his bottom lip. The man kisses and bites him until his lips are red and bloody. The redhead can’t do anything but take anything and everything Osamu will give him and cling onto strong shoulders, moaning and gasping a litany of ’ah, ah ah’s as the brunet fucks him.

”Please- Please, Sir. I’m so close”, Chuuya moans, clenching around Osamu’s cock as it hits his prostate with scary accuracy every single time. ”Can I cum on your cock, Sir? Please, Sir. Haven’t I been good for you, Sir?” The redhead asks, practically begging. He’s flushed red from head to toe, his nipples red and puffy as Osamu’s moved to suck on them.

The brunet’s head lifts from Chuuya’s chest and he looks into Chuuya’s azure eyes. ”You have been good, kitten.” The man slows his thrusts, pressing hard onto Chuuya’s prostate every time. But it’s not enough.

Chuuya whines, frustrated tears spilling down his cheeks. ”Please, Sir.” Chuuya cries, clenching down hard on Osamu’s cock.

The man hisses but it sounds more like a groan as Chuuya relaxes when the man grabs his ass harder. ”You can cum, kitten”, Osamu breaths before starting to piston in and out of Chuuya with the kind of speed and strength the redhead needs.

He moans loudly before his cock is spurting long streaks of cum all over his own and Osamu’s stomachs. The taller man fucks him through his orgasm and Chuuya whines. ”You should cum too, Sir”, he whispers.

The brunet growls before thrusting into Chuuya until his cum fills the condom he’s wearing. Osamu’s still steadily holding Chuuya against the window, even when he leans against the redhead’s neck to catch his breath.

Chuuya’s completely enveloped by the brunet, and even when his limbs turn into jelly and his grip loosens around the other’s neck, Osamu still holds him up steadily. The man’s so effortlessly strong Chuuya can feel his cock switch with interest.

Osamu apparently feels it against his stomach too, because Chuuya feels a grin grow into where Osamu’s lazily marking his collarbones with purplish red bruises.

Before Chuuya can even feel embarrassed about being hard so fast again like a teenager, Osamu’s manhandling him onto the bed—king sized as promised—and discharging the condom.

Chuuya bounces against the mattress and he can barely feel his body start to cool without Osamu’s body pressing against his, before the brunet already returns on top of him. The redhead sighs. The bed is so soft and comfortable and Osamu’s pressing kisses againts his neck.

Chuuya moves to takes off his choker but long fingers wrap around his wrists and pin both of his hands onto the mattress on top of head. ”Keep it on, kitten”, Osamu says, before leaning down to kiss Chuuya.

It’s much lazier than their earlier, more frantic, kisses. They’re both spent from their orgasms but it’s clear they’re going for a second round. Chuuya’s not complaining. He does his best to fight against Osamu’s tongue as the man tries to fuck Chuuya’s throat with it.

In the end he’s whining as more tears run down his cheeks. It’s so good and Chuuya really wants to suck Osamu off. He wants the brunet to fuck his throat so hard Chuuya’s voice will be gone by tomorrow. The man is so large Chuuya’s not sure he could even fit the thing inside his mouth. He desperately wants to try.

Osamu releases his hands before dipping his head down to leave another hickey on Chuuya’s neck before sucking on his red nipples. He whimpers as soon as the brunet’s hot mouth closes over the sensitive bud.

”Ah- Please, Osa- Sir. It’s too much”, Chuuya whines.

The brunet hums before moving to kiss Chuuya’s stomach. He licks off some of the mess Chuuya’s made there and it’s so damn dirty—literally—it makes Chuuya’s cock start to harden. He’ll never understand how he managed seventeen years without sex if he’s like this after seven months of being stuck in a dry-spell.

Before Osamu’s mouth can reach the place Chuuya wants it, the brunet leans back and takes Chuuya’s ankle between his fingers. He slowly pries off Chuuya’s socks while kissing his ankles.

Like this Chuuya’s spread out and exposed to the man. He feels the urge to hide his face but instead he digs his fingers into the sheets. He’s not shy and he’s not about to start being that now. And somehow, the way that Osamu is watching him is making Chuuya feel brave instead of shy.

The brunet trails kisses down Chuuya’s leg, stopping occasionally to suck a bruise into his skin. He holds eye contact the whole time and Chuuya can’t look away either. It’s like Osamu’s challenging him with his eyes, daring him to look away. Chuuya won’t give in to a bastard like Dazai Osamu.

When the brunet sucks onto the sensitive skin of the insides of Chuuya’s things, the redhead’s head lols back and his eyes close against his will. He can feel the smug smile against his thigh and he kicks Osamu the best he can for it.

That’s when he realizes the man is still wearing his pants, though the shirt has disappeared. Chuuya starts to try and push the pants off with his legs. The taller man lifts his head from between Chuuya’s legs and watches the redhead with amusement. ”What’s wrong, kitten?” He asks.

”Get these fucking pants off already”, Chuuya growls, wiggling his toes underneath the waistline of Osamu’s grey pants.

The man suddenly leans over him and twist Chuuya’s nipple, making his back arch off the bed as a breathless, high pitched moan leaves his mouth. Chuuya blushes at the sound he makes and hopes Osamu doesn’t notice.

”Is that how you speak to me, kitten?” Osamu asks, but there’s an edge to his voice like he’s ready to switch off the act the second Chuuya tells him to.

”Ah~” Chuuya’s whining. He can barely get a sound that isn’t a whimper past his lips because Osamu’s still playing with his abused nipples and Chuuya’s mind isn’t keeping up. ”Ah! Sorry, Sir.” He magically manages, fluttering his lashes at Osamu. ”Please take off your pants, Sir.”

”With pleasure, kitten”, Osamu says, the edge melting away from his voice. He pushes off his pants and flings them off the bed without a care in the world after fishing out the lube and condoms.

The man pours some of the strawberry-flavored lube onto his fingers before trailing them over Chuuya’s inner things that are sensitive with bruises. The redhead whines, arching his back off the bed.

”Turn over for me, kitten”, Osamu commands and Chuuya obeys. He rolls over on all fours—like a cat—before arching his back so his ass it up in the air, presenting it to Osamu. ”Good”, the man breathes, his lubed fingers sliding over Chuuya’s spine. ”You’re so good, kitten.”

Then Osamu pushes two fingers inside Chuuya’s abused hole without any warning. The redhead cries out in pleasure and oversensitivity, arching his back even more. It causes his nipples to rub against the sheets and the sensation goes straight to his dick.

It should be embarrassing how fast Chuuya is getting hard again but it’s the last thing he’s thinking about when he feels Osamu’s tongue join his fingers.

Chuuya screams, grabbing the sheets so hard he fears he might tear them. The brunet laps his tongue over Chuuya’s sensitive walls while the fingers tease his prostate.

Chuuya’s having trouble deciding should he rather squirm away because it’s all too much, or should he press his ass against Osamu’s face because of how good it is. He ends up just squirming until Osamu grabs his waist to keep him still.

Chuuya can’t but moan and take what the brunet gives him. The thought of sucking Osamu off is still present but currently he’s much more set to having the man’s cock inside of him again. Chuuya’s own dick is fully hard again and rubbing against the sheets.

”I want you, Sir.” Chuuya whines, his tears staining the pillow he hid his face into. ”I want you inside… please, Sir.”

Osamu’s tongue rolls over his insides one more time before it leaves his hole along his fingers. ”Aren’t you eager, kitten”, Osamu says, but when Chuuya looks over his shoulder, he can see the brunet is hard too.

He reaches for a condom but Chuuya reaches to stop him. ”Hm? Is kitten trying to order me around?” He asks, but doesn’t reach for the condom again.

”No… But Sir.” Chuuya starts. ”Don’t you want to cum inside me, Sir?” He looks over his shoulder while batting his eyelashes the prettiest he can manage. Chuuya won’t say it aloud, but he was somewhat disappointed when Osamu came and didn’t fill his insides with cum.

The brunet however looks like he wants to devour Chuuya again. He presses Chuuya’s shoulder blades so his chest is pressed against the mattress before grabbing Chuuya’s hips an pulling him closer.

The redhead slides helplessly over the mattress as Osamu manhandles him. The smaller man’s cock drags over the mattress as the brunet does so, and Chuuya cries out I oversensitivity. Osamu presses his cock against Chuuya’s ass but doesn’t push inside. He circles his hips instead, teasing.

The redhead waits, panting. When nothing happens he looks over his shoulder, tears of frustration in his eyes. He sees Osamu with a smug smirk on the brunet’s lips. He wants Chuuya to beg, the smaller man realizes.

Chuuya opens his mouth but closes it instantly. He takes a moment to collect himself. ’You never need to see him again. He’s never going to see you either’, he reminds himself.

”Please, Sir.” Chuuya says. ”Please fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow. I need you inside me, Sir. I need your cum to fill me up. Don’t you want to see me full of your cum, Sir-!” The redhead gets cut off by a loud moan that leaves his mouth the second Osamu slams all the way inside him in one go.

”I was right”, The brunet says, leaning over Chuuya’s back and biting his ear. ”You are a demon, kitten.”

Chuuya keens at the attention, arching his back so Osamu can slam into his ass at a better angle. Chuuya’s things quiver as he tries to keep himself up. He already knows he’ll be so sore tomorrow that sitting will be hell, but quite frankly, it’s worth the struggle.

Osamu’s hand wraps around the redhead’s waist, realizing how difficult it’s for the other to stay up on his own. The man purrs into Chuuya’s ear. ”Aren’t you good, kitten?” The man hooks a finger into Chuuya’s choker and turns his head. ”So good for me”, he says, before tucking Chuuya’s choker to bring their lips together.

Chuuya has little fight left to him, but enough so that when their lips slot together, he takes it to himself to be the one exploring Osamu’s mouth. The man hums in approval, slowing his thrust so his cock is dragging over Chuuya’s insides and pressing hard on his prostate. Every. Single. Time.

When their lips part Chuuya’s gasping for breath. His body is too weak to hold itself up anymore and Osamu’s arm is the only thing keeping him from collapsing onto the mattress. The redhead’s arms weakly grasp the sheets. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to come untouched again, but he doesn’t have the strength to move his hand to touch himself.

”S-Sir-!” Chuuya tries, realizing that he has no other choice than to beg since he knows demanding it won’t do. His voice is wrung out from crying out for—how long? Hours?—and the never-ending thrusts to his prostate aren’t making his situation any better.

”Yes, kitten?” Osamu asks, and the way he calls Chuuya kitten, voice raspy and drenched in pleasure he’s feeling because of Chuuya, makes the redhead clench around his cock.

”Please-” Chuuya whines, tears streaming down his cheeks again. The brunet lifts his thumb to wipe them off, kissing and licking the salt off of Chuuya’s cheeks. ”Please- Sir. I need- I need you to touch me-! AH, please, Sir!”

The taller man chuckles, leaning back, and Chuuya misses the warmth enveloping his back as cool air washes over his overheated and flushed skin. ”Of course, kitten. How could I deny you after you asked me so nicely?” The brunet hums, his hand moving to Chuuya’s cock while he holds the redhead’s hips with his other hand, settling back to a brutish pace.

Osamu’s fingers wrap around Chuuya’s cock and the redhead whines. He’s so close and the way the brunet is rubbing his thumb over the tip of his cock and tipping the finger into his slit is making Chuuya approach his peak faster, finally feeling like he can actually reach it.

Then the bastard, the motherfucking bandaged bastard, fucking denies him. Chuuya cries out in frustration, his hands fisting into the sheets as Osamu’s hips completely still.

Chuuya’s first reaction would be to yell, ’What the fuck!?’ if his mind wasn’t covered in thick fog that wants nothing else than the orgasm that’s in Osamu’s hands—quite literally.

Instead of cursing the asshole out for denying him, he throws his head over his shoulder, pouting as fresh tears shimmer in his half-lidded eyes. The brunet tilts his head, a teasing smirk on his lips. ”What’s wrong, kitten? Is there something you want?”

”Yes!” Chuuya mewls, trying to rock back onto Osamu’s cock but finding his legs too weak to do anything more than pitifully wiggle his ass.

Osamu leans over him again, kissing the nape of his neck before sinking his teeth into the redhead’s shoulder. ”What do you want?” Osamu breathes, his breath burning against Chuuya’s bruised skin. ”You already have my cock and my finger’s all around you, kitten~”

”I’ll have your head if you don’t-!” Chuuya snaps, the fiery dragon inside him bearing it’s head, but he can’t finish his sentence because Dazai bucks his hips so his cock is pushing so deep into Chuuya the redhead feels like he’d fly off the brunet’s cock if the said man wasn’t keeping him in place.

”I’m sorry, Sir!” Chuuya whines instantly as the movement stops while Osamu is still sheathed too deep for Chuuya to properly breathe. Pleasure fogs his brain and the dragon inside him disappears within it. ”Please let me cum, Sir?”

The brunet hums, slowly circling his hips so his cock rubs at Chuuya’s abused prostate. He still doesn’t move his hand away from the redhead’s cock though, keeping his fingers firmly around the base.

”Please, Sir? Don’t you want to come inside me too, Sir?” The brunet bites Chuuya’s ear rather harshly at the pleading, which tells the redhead it’s definitely working. ”I want you to cum inside me, Sir. I want to cum with you, Sir.”

Osamu’s hips stir at that and the cock inside Chuuya’s sensitive walls switch, making the smaller man moan wantonly. That seems to make the last of the brunet’s self-control snap.

He leans back, starting to fuck into Chuuya like the world is ending. He starts jerking off the redhead at the same pace, abusing the sensitive head of Chuuya’s cock while mercilessly milking his prostate.

It only takes few thrust and Chuuya’s coming all over the sheets. Osamu fucks restlessly into him as he does, the redhead starting to pant loudly for breath as the pleasure dips towards oversensitivity.

The brunet gladly only thrusts into him a few more times before filling Chuuya with his cum. The smaller man moans in earnest, loving the feeling of being full. He feels cum drip down his thighs as Osamu’s cock softens while the man lazily thrusts into him a few more times.

Chuuya hisses when the cock slips out and through his red and swollen rim. Osamu presses his thumb on it, making Chuuya moan. He’s too tired to go again and the soft bed underneath him is currently very inviting.

The brunet only hums, like he was admiring the cum dripping down Chuuya’s hole, before collapsing onto the bed next to Chuuya. He’s just as out of breath as the redhead is.

They lay side by side catching their breath before Osamu’s chestnut eyes turn to look at Chuuya’s half-lidded ones. ”I didn’t think you’d be such a demon.”

The redhead huffs, avoiding the other man’s eyes. He’s glad he never needs to see the guy again because after tonight, he’s certain he’ll never be able to look into the man’s eyes and not feel embarrassed. ”Well, since I’m never going to speak to you again, I supposed it didn’t matter.”

Chuuya can see the taller man’s smirk from the corner of his eye. ”Well it was nice helping you to let go, kitten.” Chuuya turns the same color as is hair at the nickname, turning his head to look at the ceiling. ”It’s okay to be into things like this, you know.”

”Yeah, yeah. It’s just embarrassing”, Chuuya mutters. He decides to just close his eyes in favor of not needing to avoid the other’s eyes.

He feels the bed jostle and Osamu getting up. ”Want me to clean you up, or?” The brunet asks.

”No”, Chuuya says. He feels like cuddling but his dignity has taken a big enough strike already. He’s more than happy he’ll never need to look into Osamu’s eyes again. ”I’ll shower after I take a moment to just…” he lifts his hands a little—which are shaking—before letting them flop onto the bed.

”Alright, kitten”, Osamu says, obviously having an amused smile plastered on his face. That’s the last thing Chuuya registers before rifting off to sleep.

When he wakes up it’s completely dark outside. His whole body feels sore and he swears he can still feel the imprint of Osamu’s dick inside of himself.

The redhead groans, his throat feeling sore. He truly hopes he never needs to look Osamu in the eyes ever again- Speaking of the man… Chuuya sits up and scans the room. The light at the bedside table is on but the room is empty beside the redhead.

As he raises up he realizes that the cum is still pretty much covering his thighs and ass but now it’s dried. Chuuya groans again, burying his face into a pillow as he hopes he had taken up for the offer that Osamu would’ve cleaned him up.

Chuuya really would love to just sleep in the hotel but he has to be at work early in the morning and he’d love to get fresh clothes from home. Slowly, he manages to pull himself up again, only to spot a small note at the bedside table with two keycards on top.

It reads: Chibi was too cute sleeping so I didn’t wake you up~ Don’t kill me if you’re late for work tomorrow! It was fun, but as I promised, you’ll never need to see my face again~Though if you change your mind, you can always contact me again. ;)

Chuuya reads the thing over a few times, and yeah, it’s definitely written by Osamu. The next thing he does is punch the air.

His sister definitely didn’t teach him to deal with strangers like this—yes, even incredibly hot men that can fuck him better than ever count as strangers. Osamu could’ve robbed him while he slept or something worse, but by the looks of it, the man truly just wanted to fuck.

It was a mind-blowing fuck so Chuuya counts the risk worth it. Now he can be miserable and sex-less for the next half a year again. Amazing. Maybe he should ask Mori for a vacation… though he supposes he just needs to run the requests through the Executive who’s finally returning.

Chuuya kicks a pillow which has fallen on the fool as he realizes he never asked Hirotsu-san for a name. Well, he supposes since he’s going to meet the executive tomorrow—fuck, today, it’s past shitting midnight—he’ll find the name one way or the other.

Chuuya wobbles towards the bathroom. His legs are weak but not too weak for him to be unable to walk. His ass is aching though and so is his chest which means Chuuya will be avoiding sitting down at work tomorrow- today.

The redhead searches for a towel when his eyes meet his own reflection in the mirror. ”What the fuck!?” Chuuya yells, instantly leaning closer to the mirror to make sure he isn’t seeing things.

And nope. The marks littering his skin are certainly real. His neck looks like a god damn strawberry, and when Chuuya takes the choker off, it looks like he’s still wearing one. The streak of skin is a harsh contrast against the reddish purple marks that fill the entirety of his neck.

And it’s not only his neck. Nooo. It’s also his shoulders, collarbones and all, his nipples look like someone has tried to bite them off—which isn’t entirely untrue—and his thighs don’t look much different from the state of his neck.

Looking back, Chuuya wishes he told Osamu not to devour his neck. Though… Chuuya’s pretty sure the space above the brunets bandages isn’t much better considering how much Chuuya was nibbling the skin there to drown some of his moans while the man was fucking him against the window…

Chuuya’s face grows bright red at the fact he actually let the guy do something like that to him. He throws the towel he found towards the mirror, so he doesn’t need to see his red face in it, but the towel just ends up sliding down onto the sink.

Chuuya turns to the shower and turns the water as cold as possible—a terrible idea really—but at least he isn’t thinking about exactly what he had done with Osamu some hours ago. Well, what he had done wasn’t that bad, considering it was just sex—incredibly good sex but still just sex... But the things he said-

Chuuya feels his face heat up all over again.

He washes himself clean of the other man’s cum, fuck, he had begged for that too. When his hands move over his abused hole Chuuya lets out a startled moan. Which causes him to blush even more.

Okay, he admits he absolutely needed to be fucked like that but it doesn’t make it any less embarrassing. If he ever needs to face Osamu again, Chuuya thinks he might just die. Or, he’d rather die than look into those chestnut eyes ever again.

Because Chuuya’s never so submissive. He’s usually the one taking over and he’s the one making the other one beg. Not- not the other way around. Osamu was just an exception because Chuuya was so bend up!

The redhead sighs and turns the water to slightly warmer to was his hair. There’s cum in it too and he curses because getting cum out of hair isn’t fun. He rubs is face so the makeup that had spread all over his cheeks surely comes off.

His face had been a real sight in the mirror too. Lips red a bloody form all the kisses and biting from Chuuya—and well also Osamu—ears just as red as his hair and cheeks flushed. The trails of makeup soaked tear tracks down his cheeks made Chuuya question why the fuck he wore makeup in the first place.

The shower is horrible, drying himself off in front do the mirror is just as horrible so the redhead moves out of the bathroom so he doesn’t need to look at the state he’s in. His neck is going to need so much concealer for all the marks to be covered, Chuuya needs to wake up at least ten minutes earlier than usual.

At least his clothes are nicely folded on one of the armchairs in the room. Also turns out that getting into clothes when your limps are sore as hell is also horrible. Chuuya doesn’t even understand how he can feel so good and refreshed while everything is so god damn horrible.

Once he’s dressed he grabs the keycards and is about to crumble the note Osamu left into the trash when he notices a phone number written behind it. Chuuya bites his lip and shoves the paper inside his pocket. He should feel bad for the poor people who need to clean the room but quite frankly, he can’t bring himself to care.

The trip to the reception to return the keycards in uneventful, but to Chuuya’s horror, the same guy who was there when he arrived with Osamu is still there. His eyes linger on the redhead’s neck for a moment and Chuuya’s pretty sure his face is as red as the receptionist’s.

”Here”, he says, awkwardly placing the keycards onto the counter. Fuck his life and fuck the fuck since he didn’t wear a high-collared shirt.

”Thanks”, the boy says just as awkwardly and as soon as he grabs the cards, Chuuya hurries away. ”Come again soon!” The boy yells.

’Nope. I’m never coming here again’, Chuuya thinks, walking out of the hotel as fast as he can manage with his below-average long legs that are trembling because of how weak they suddenly feel.

The walk back to his apartment doesn’t take more than twenty-five minutes and Chuuya sighs in relief as soon as he sees his own bed he can just bury himself into. He puts his phone in charger and changes his clothes before collapsing onto the mattress.

Yeah. Fucking Osamu was definitely worth it, even with all the embarrassment Chuuya suffered. He hasn’t felt as relaxed in months.

He closes his eyes and sleep claims him at record time.

Chuuya wakes up to his blaring phone. Really, no matter what alarm he sets he always hates it just as much. The sound always signals that’s it’s the time to get the fuck up and get the fuck to work and every single fucking time, Chuuya needs to drag his bones off the bed.

His body feels lighter this morning, so it isn’t as bad.

The morning isn’t as bad as he makes coffee and quickly eats something before moving to the bathroom for his morning routine. The morning turns bad as he sees himself in the mirror.

If he thought the marks looked bad before… Well it’s looks ten times worse now. He’d love to call in to work and just lie about him being sick, but when you sister works in the same company as you do, it’s not an option since she will completely sniff out Chuuya’s bullshit with her magical sister superpowers and then fuss over him until she realizes he was lying about being sick. And then she’ll fuss over him because he was ’so exhausted’ he had to lie about being sick.

With a sigh, Chuuya picks up his makeup and proceeds to cover all the marks on his neck, only wincing occasionally when he presses down a little too hard. He ends up covering bruises in his jawline and next to his lips too. His ears are screaming red and imprinted with teeth marks and the redhead just covers them with his hair.

In the end, he doesn’t look too bad. In fact, he looks like he wasn’t ravished by a wild animal the night before like he should.

The trip to work in uneventful, though Chuuya’s legs ache as he reaches the elevator. He wants to sit down so bad, but at the same time, sitting down sounds like a death sentence. He swears he can still feel Osamu’s dick when in certain positions and it’s driving him insane.

Chuuya goes first into his office only to find Albatross perched up onto his desk. ”What do you want?” Chuuya asks. He’s known Albatross long enough to drop being polite around the other man.

Albatross pouts. ”I just wanted to see you!” Chuuya gives the man a flat look. ”Okay, okay! Iceman is angry and I’m hiding here from him.”

”Don’t you have work?” Chuuya asks, repeating the same question from yesterday while making his way towards the table he can stand at.

”I never went home. I deserve a break”, Albatross tells.

Mori Corporation has a few good qualities. All the dining places that provide nice foods for free are definitely a plus—as is the the fucking spa—and everyone important has a couch in their office that is so comfortable it partically begs you to sleep at the office for the night.

Chuuya could live at the office if he wanted to, but Mori Corporations don’t have any wine just laying around and Chuuya is just a man. A man addicted to wine, but still just a man.

”I told you to prepare for the Executive like a week ago”, Chuuya says, giving Albatross a flat look. ”You can’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

”Yeah, yeah”, Albatross says, waving his hand. ”I had other work to do. How can you even manage? I swear your sister is making your life easier for you-”

”Kouyou is doing nothing for me. She actually has told me to work harder not to ’shame the family’ or something, multiple times”, Chuuya marks, starting his computer.

”Well, she certainly is making you work harder, I can see as much”, the man wearing sunglasses says. Chuuya doesn’t understand why he never takes them off… maybe the man has some anime-princess eyes that have magical powers and he’s scared to show them off. The rumor of the office, that is.

Chuuya rolls his eyes. ”The new Executive… what’s his name?” The redhead asks, finally remembering what he was supposed to do ages ago.

”You still don’t know?” Albatross asks and he continues when Chuuya shakes his head. ”Well, everyone calls him the Demon Prodigy, but obviously it isn’t his real name. I think it was… ugh, Dazai, something? Dazai Uusa- Not sure man.”

Chuuya freezes. ”Dazai Osamu?” He asks. Because surely not…

Much to Chuuya’s horror, Albatross nods. ”Yes! That’s it! Dazai Osamu!”

Chuuya’s eyes slowly widen and his shoulders slightly tense. Okay… there is no fucking way it’s the same Dazai Osamu. ”So… This Dazai guy… He doesn’t happen to be a tall brunet, with uh, bandages?”

”Yup. That’s the Demon Prodigy”, Albatross says. When he realizes Chuuya’s acting suspicious and being suspiciously quiet, his eyes narrow behind the sunglasses. ”You know him?”

”Shit”, Chuuya breathes, holding his head between his arms. Because apparently, fucking apparently, the fifth Executive of Mori Corporation just so happens to be the guy’s whose dick he can still feel inside his ass.

The redhead starts laughing, running his hands down his face. ”Fuck”, he mutters. He’s so screwed. He’s pretty sure he won’t be able to look Osamu- Dazai into the eye after last night and now the guy’s his direct superior?

Chuuya’s fucked.