Work Text:
Mafia! Mafia! Mafia!
The crowd cheers their name. They roar for more, calling the band back to the stage.
Their screams enter Chuuya’s ears, and he’s pleased. It’s a crowd ready to see his band play one more time and commit their presence to core memory as if his band, Mafia, hadn’t just blown out their voice boxes for the past two hours hearing them sing along with him. This crowd was electric.
This stadium was the end of their tour, their final performance, and Chuuya smirks beneath his hat, a shiver crawling down his spine behind the curtains.
Oh yeah, this is what he lives for. The adrenaline, the cheers, and the joy of watching the crowd go wild for them. It pumps him up.
“Someone please get him a towel and some water!” one of his attendants says, holding a small fan towards him to cool down. “Chuuya-kun, what will the band do? The crowd is calling for you!”
“What do you think?” Chuuya says with a grin, taking the bottle of water that appears from his left before throwing his head back messily, and feeling the coolness of the drink down his throat. Any water remaining dribbles down his chin, and he takes the towel that appears to his right to wipe at the sweat that has built up from the heat of the stage lights and hundreds of fans in a packed arena.
“Do we have anything else going on tonight?” he quickly asks his attendant, and they shake their head.
“No, sir. We checked the schedule, and it’s all cleared for the rest of the night. It seems the after-tour party that was for tonight has been rescheduled for tomorrow night instead.”
Chuuya nods his head and signals for his band members, who are also being attended to and chatting amongst themselves, to round up. Ryuunosuke smiles at him and settles his guitar over his shoulder. Albatross tosses a drumstick in the air nonchalantly, while Lipmann calls for their microphones, already knowing what Chuuya has in mind, and Piano Man takes their bass guitars in hand.
“Alright, gang, let’s go back out there and rock out! One last song before we go!”
“Which one should we do?” Ryuunosuke asks.
“A fan favorite?” Albatross suggests. “Maybe something from our earlier discography. What about Kiss in the Moonlight?
“Hm, isn’t that a bit too romantic for this crowd? What about From the Soul?” Lippmann asks instead, a hand to their chin.
“A bit too slow, too. There is always Iron Cage,” Piano Man offers to the conversation, taking the microphones that appear at his side and handing one to Chuuya.
“Iron cage… I like that one. We haven’t played that one in a while,” Akutagawa says with a smile, and the others seem to nod in agreement.
“Let’s go out with a bang then!” Chuuya smirks with a first pump to the air.
“What a ball of energy you are, Chuuya,” Piano Man says with a smile.
“Anything for the fans, of course,” answered Lippmann on Chuuya’s behalf, and Chuuya couldn’t help but nudge against his friend playfully. “You know it. They want a show, we’ve got to give them one.”
Piano Man then turns to the young female attendant who appears at his side, quiet as a mouse but astute and focused. She has silky, jet-black hair tied back in a neat ponytail, and she holds a clipboard. Piano Man grins down at her and says, “Did you catch that, sugar?”
Gin blinks up at him, nods before running off with a walkie-talkie and relaying the message. “Mafia to head back out. Prepare Iron Cage. Ready lights and stage. Over.”
“Do you really have to talk to my sister like that?” Akutagawa raises an eyebrow at Piano Man, who laughs heartily. “I’m sorry, Ryuu. I just cannot get a reaction out of her, and it’s killing me. She’s a very pretty girl, so serious, and not fangirling at the mere sight of us. Ah, what a rare beauty she is.”
“Dude, ew. Keep off! I don’t want to hear it. She’s just doing her job,” Akutagawa says with a roll of his eyes, followed by a slight glare covering his ears.
“Ryuu, I’m teasing! I’m teasing you!” Piano Man says with another laugh, and other band members chuckle along. In their earpieces, a voice cuts through their conversation. “This is Doc, over. The stage is ready whenever Mafia is ready to come back out.”
The band nods, ready to get back into position, watching as the lights begin to strobe and circle the stage, when suddenly, a buzz comes from Chuuya’s phone in his pocket. He glances at it.
Mackerel calling.
Chuuya raises a brow, tempted to give it a quick ignore; his attention is meant to be on his fans while he’s working, but still, a text appears at the top of his screen.
🐟: Pick up, please.
“H-Hey, guys, cover for a minute, will you?” Chuuya says as his finger lingers over the green button.
“Hm? A sweetheart on the line?” Lippmann says with an all-knowing smirk, and Chuuya rolls his eyes with a laugh.
“Shut up, I’ve got to take this. Just give the usual thank-you spiel and get the crowd going. I’ll come in as the intro starts.”
“Yeah, yeah, boss. We’ll hold them off for as long as we can,” Albatross says with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a salute to him. He’s playfully shoved by Iceman, their bodyguard, towards the stage, yelping a little at his sudden appearance. He always was a mystery, but quick with his work; no one seemed to want to approach the man because of his resting scowl. He was still a part of the Mafia in his own way, and the band really liked him. Regardless, the band walks out with big smiles and arms wide, embracing the screams from the crowd as they see them again.
A smile comes on Chuuya’s face when the stadium erupts in screams, and he has to turn away to shield some of the noise. Chuuya quickly hits the accept button before the call is forwarded to voicemail and raises it to his ear. “What is Mackerel? You know I’m working.”
The other end of the line rattles a bit, as if the phone was fumbled, but then there he is. Osamu Dazai.
“Ah, Chuuya. I thought you had finished your set list already,” comes Dazai’s voice through the line. Chuuya can’t help but imagine his pretty eyes staring back at him.
“Heh, we got one more song. Giving the fans an encore. What can I say? We’re generous like that.”
“Is that so?” Dazai’s voice lowers in its timbre, and there is some rustling in the background that Chuuya can’t make out. “And here I was hoping to paint a nice picture for you.”
“Picture?”
“I bet you can’t figure out where I am.”
“Listen, I don’t have time for your guessing games. I’ve got to go,” Chuuya says, watching as his band mates give a thank you and heartfelt message to their fans for their endless support. The crowd has quieted down to hear their message, and Chuuya is thankful for the momentary silence.
“Ah, but these silk sheets are the finest and softest in Yokohama, and this view of the skyline is worth a million dollars…”
“Are you in my apartment, asshole?”
“Oh wow, Chuuya! That was quick. Your slug brain is keeping up!” Dazai giggles. “Don’t blame me. Blame your security. It’s so easy to convince them that I’m still part of your band with a counterfeit badge.”
“You really need to stop doing that. You were a temporary,” Chuuya grumbles with a sigh and a pinch to the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing there anyway?”
A laugh and then once again, the phone is fumbled, as if placed away from them, as Dazai’s voice sounds a little further away. “What am I doing? Well, I said I was going to paint you a picture, but I also needed to hear the sound of your voice to do it.”
And that’s all it takes. Chuuya hears a small pop from a bottle, and soon a groan, and a million mental images of Dazai on all fours, his back arched with his legs spread wide, cross his mind.
“Chuuya…” Dazai’s voice lowers, and a moan escapes his lips through the line. Just the sound of his name on Dazai’s lips, laced in lust and honey, gets Chuuya’s adrenaline pumping again. The scream of his fans has nothing against Dazai’s breathy moans, and Chuuya’s dick twitches; the hand gripping the phone tightens.
“You better not make a mess on my bed without me there.”
“Chuuya… Chuuya, I need you. Hurry.”
The intro of the song begins to play, and Chuuya takes a deep breath. He locks eyes with Lippmann, and Chuuya knows he’s out of time. “You little… I’ll be there in the next half hour. Be ready for me, sweetheart,” is all he says with a smirk before he hangs up and returns to the stage.
If he didn’t have any plans before, he has them now.
If there was ever a time Chuuya ignored the signs signaling a speed limit, tonight was that night. He couldn’t care less about any yellow lights that tried to slow him down, when Dazai was in his apartment, likely face down and his ass up, moaning and whining, trying to prep himself for Chuuya.
Dazai’s mental image was burned into Chuuya’s brain after their call, and he focused that adrenaline and heat into their final performance, the crowd erupting into screams when he appeared from behind the curtains, ready to give it his all. He gave a final thank-you to his fans afterward, and the band gave a final bow and wave at the venue for their last tour stop.
“We’ll catch up with you later, right?” His friends had asked as Chuuya hurriedly grabbed his keys.
“Yeah, yeah, for sure,” he had said, ignoring the raised eyebrows at him. “I’ve got to go, though. See ya.”
“Wait, Chuu!” He didn’t glance back, eyes forward on the prize waiting for him at home.
Dazai.
As Chuuya parks his car, taking the elevator to his suite, he can’t help but think that maybe he should add a few more security personnel and probably tell everyone that Dazai is no longer in his band, only having served as a temporary replacement for Ryuu.
As it turned out, Ryuu knew just the person to take his temporary spot when he came down with pneumonia, someone he trusted to keep them from calling off shows, and that was Dazai, his mentor. It was then that they first met.
The rippling Demon Prodigy, a solo guitarist and musical talent in the industry. Chuuya had heard his name in passing. Maybe once or twice mentioned by Ryuu when the other saw his mentor on the front cover of a Rolling Stones issue.
Ultimately, Dazai was a man sought after by many for his talents, as he didn’t stay with just one band. He, however, had a few underlings whom he taught while he was writing music. Ryuu learned to play the guitar, and the other was a rising singer from Yokohama, Atsushi Nakajima.
When it came time to meet Dazai in person, well…, Chuuya and Dazai started on the wrong foot.
Chuuya thought he was cocky, outright full of himself. On top of that, he couldn’t take Dazai’s constant teasing, calling him a slug and tiny whenever Chuuya had a question for him, obviously trying to understand Dazai’s perspective about music. Dazai played out his attempts with shrugs and insults. It pissed him off, sharing some insults back, on the verge of breaking one of Albatross’s drumsticks in half with the willpower of what felt like hate. It felt like he had a target on his back. Chuuya’s never been spoken to like this by anyone.
When his bandmates asked Dazai why he didn’t stick to one band, Dazai said he liked “the variety,” with that devilish glint of his eyes locked on Chuuya, and Chuuya knew he wasn’t talking about the music. Especially when Dazai gave a piece of himself to Chuuya with his tongue and body later that night. Obviously, Dazai had gotten under his skin in more ways than one, enough to get drunk at a party, and to Chuuya’s dismay, waking up to the sight of him in a random hotel bed the next morning.
Since then, they’ve slept together many times, seeing each other on random occasions here and there. Nothing official, more like friends with benefits. Dazai came and went as he wanted, and Chuuya didn’t think too much about it either. They had great bed chemistry. Thinking too much would ultimately involve feelings, and their lives were too complicated, especially when a life like Chuuya’s takes him away from home, and Dazai floats in every direction.
When Ryuunosuke was able to play again, Dazai left the Mafia, and Chuuya didn’t know whether to tell him good riddance or to stick around for a while and tour with their show. There were definitely complicated feelings behind them that he didn’t want to unwind just yet.
But tonight felt different. Dazai never initiated like this, calling Chuuya to moan into the phone and plead for him breathlessly and prepping himself without Chuuya there. Most of the time, they sext a little before agreeing to meet and sleep together, but images of their early call come back to mind.
Were Dazai’s lips parted with every moan? Was he sweating and panting Chuuya’s name with every touch on himself? Were his legs spread wide like a horny slut awaiting Chuuya to come home?
The fabric of his ripped jeans grew tighter, making him uncomfortable. He mentally cursed the elevator, wishing it would climb faster.
As Chuuya makes it to his penthouse, taking his key out of his pocket and inserting it into the lock, he finds the door already unlocked and smirks, opening it into a dimly lit foyer. He closes it, locks the door, puts his keys on a dish, his hat on its stand, and his shoes away.
His ears are attentive, hoping to hear any sign of Dazai, but he’ll give credit where it’s due. Sometimes Dazai could be as quiet as a mouse, until Chuuya makes him scream. He ignores everything else, striding towards his bedroom door and opening it. It was definitely one hell of a view, alright.
Both lamps in his room are lit on his end tables, and the curtains to the Yokohama skyline are open in the back. Dazai lies on the bed, naked, just like Chuuya had pictured him, with that same arched back, one hand reaching behind him and between his ass, fingers pumping in and out of him agonizingly slowly, possibly trying to elongate the foreplay before Chuuya gets home. His dick is raised excitedly between his legs and rutting into one of the pillows, whimpering quietly like the stimulation wasn’t enough. He was panting, a little frustrated at his angle, and Chuuya had had enough.
“What a good boy. You listened to my directions,” Chuuya chuckles as he enters his bedroom, peeling off clothes, and setting his phone down on the bedside where it won’t be in the way. The little yelp of surprise Dazai made brought a smirk to Chuuya’s lips.
Dazai pouts. “At least one of us listens. Didn’t know how long you’d be keeping me waiting. A dog comes to his master when called.”
“Hate to break it to you, baby, but you’re not the only one in the world who wants a piece of me. Besides,” Chuuya climbs the bed and pins him down from behind. One hand tangles into Dazai’s soft brunette locks while his other hand rests on his hip to keep Dazai how he was. “I might have a choker on, but you’re my pet. You’ll do as I say.”
Chuuya lowers himself to lay chaste kisses on Dazai’s back, enjoying how Dazai pants and moans with every print of Chuuya’s lips on him. Goosebumps rise on Dazai’s skin, a shiver crawling down their spine, as salt meets Chuuya’s tongue with every lick and bite he gives. Dazai likes both gentle and rough treatment, as Chuuya has come to learn. Something about a feather-soft touch and a rough bite to his neck would send him over the edge. That’s just how he was.
“Chuuya… You’re such a tease,” Dazai whines between pants, and it gets a chuckle out of his partner. “You’re a brute. A tiny slug. M-Mini Mafia. Ah!” The grip on Dazai’s waist tightens as Chuuya growls, fingernails digging into his skin to shut him up.
“You really don’t know when just to shut up and enjoy it, huh? Besides, you got the after party started without me,” Chuuya mutters playfully, before pulling Dazai up a little by his hair, earning a gasp and groan from them. Chuuya’s voice deepens. “I’m all pent up, and you wanted this. So now lie here for a minute, sweetheart, and behave. I know what you want.”
“Yeah,” Dazai nods obediently, and Chuuya lets him go, separating from him for a minute. There is a slight whine from him, but Chuuya quickly shuts him up with a slap to his ass, and Dazai whimpers, making him chuckle.
“Chuuya!”
“Yeah, yeah, calm down, princess,” Chuuya says with the slightest hint of a smile.
He gets two things: one is grabbing a hair tie, pulling his hair into a small ponytail because he knows it drives Dazai wild, witnessing how his pupils dilate, and cums within minutes. A little surprise for Dazai, Chuuya supposes. The second is grabbing the bottle of lube discarded on the corner of the bed, having been pushed aside, and lathering some on his hardened dick.
Even if Dazai prepared himself for Chuuya, he didn’t want to hurt him. Yes, Dazai liked some pain in their sex, but Chuuya always controlled the pain in this strange display of trust between them. Chuuya knew how to treat Dazai’s body as he liked it. They’ve slept together enough for Chuuya to know what Dazai liked.
Once he’s done, Chuuya once again laces a hand into Dazai’s locks and lifts him. “On all fours,” he commands, and Dazai does, removing the pillow from beneath him and groaning when Chuuya tugs his hair a little harder. Dazai gives a little whine, but Chuuya smiles at it.
“Don’t move. Let me enjoy this,” Chuuya says, rocking his hardened dick between Dazai’s ass, the hand on their hip holding one cheek to the side, and teasing his hole as though he’s about to enter him but pulling away at the last second. It shuts Dazai up real fast, gasping as if anticipating the breach only to be denied it. Those gasps of anticipation have Chuuya smirking.
“So eager,” Chuuya teases. “I like that.”
“Please, Chuuya. I’ve been waiting, I’ve been good,” Dazai pleads, and finally Chuuya grants him mercy. The hand on Dazai’s ass shifts towards his hole, and two fingers enter him, earning a gasp from his partner. Chuuya pumps in and out of him, enjoying how Dazai’s body stretches easily to accommodate him, and then he slowly picks up the pace. The hand in Dazai’s hair eases, and their head falls forward. Dazai pants heavily with every thrust of Chuuya’s fingers in him, meeting him in the middle. “Chuuya, I want…” he cuts off through pleasurable moans, but Chuuya knows what he’s asking for.
“Yeah, I know you can take it, baby.” Chuuya pulls his fingers away before lining his dick against Dazai’s hole, finally and entering slowly. It’s warm, hot, wet, exactly what Chuuya wanted and needed after a long tour. He gives a pleased moan at the slight pressure in Dazai’s body that contours around his dick while Dazai is gasping, arms threatening to crumble beneath him, his fingers curling around the luxurious silk sheets on the bed.
“You’re doing so well, Osamu,” Chuuya praises him, somewhat breathless at the heat radiating from Dazai’s body that quivers in his hands. So he gives Dazai a minute to adjust to his size and let Dazai catch his breath.
After a minute, Dazai nods his head and rocks his hips experimentally, and Chuuya takes that as a sign to continue. He starts slow, ensuring no cries come from Dazai except for pleased moans and sighs, and when he hears a “faster,” watching as one of Dazai’s hands travels between his legs, Chuuya quickens his pace. He fucks into him, hands on his hips to help Dazai’s ass meet the base of his cock, over and over again. Dazai moans with every stroke of his own dick, but ultimately, ignores it when Chuuya’s pacing threatens to topple him.
“Yeah, just like that, baby, keep going,” Chuuya moans, slowing down for a moment to watch as Dazai fucks himself on Chuuya’s cock, watching Dazai’s body hungrily take him in and out, in and out, with the slight jiggle of his ass with every contact.
“Chuuya… switch,” Dazai pants through labored breath, back arched as his arms finally crumble, and Chuuya doesn’t waste any time. He pulls out, and Dazai rolls over to lie on his back, legs spread, brunette waves splayed around him in the soft light, and Chuuya wants to lick him, taste him, kiss those pretty parted lips until they’re red.
It doesn’t go unnoticed how Dazai immediately locks onto Chuuya’s face and the blush that flourishes on his cheeks. “You’re wearing your ponytail…” Dazai gulps, and Chuuya smirks down at him, positioning himself between Dazai’s legs again, hands beneath his knees to help lift and expose him.
“Yeah, I always work up a sweat when you’re around,” Chuuya chuckles as he leans forward to place a kiss on Dazai’s lips.
“That’s not fair,” Dazai mumbles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Chuuya’s neck and mewling when Chuuya thrusts back inside of him without mercy. He keeps to his previous pace, skin slapping against skin, and Chuuya moans along with Dazai as pleasure runs through their veins. The scent of sex is in his nose, and Dazai’s body is welcoming him without a fight. Dazai’s head is arched slightly to the side, exposing his neck, and Chuuya leaves marks of wet kisses on his skin, maybe a mark here and there along his collarbone that only he’d know about when Dazai put his clothes back on.
He keeps going, feeling Dazai’s body roll with his and meet his thrusts when Chuuya pulls back a bit to see the mess of Dazai’s body. Some of his bandages have come undone, and the fleshy marks that he hides beneath them begin to show. He’s seen them before, some a bit more pink than others, especially between his thighs. He doesn’t judge. A tap on his shoulder catches his attention, and he slows down once more as Dazai looks up at him through half-lidded eyes and says, “Wait, Chuuya. Let me on top.”
Chuuya teases Dazai’s hole a few more times, pumping in and out of him slowly, as Dazai inhales sharply with every one of his thrusts. Chuuya smirks. “Are you sure?”
Dazai nods, his hands pushing against Chuuya’s chest, and Chuuya smiles. “Fine, but you better dance really well for me, sweetheart,” he says before removing himself slowly and lying down. When he’s comfortable, Dazai climbs on top without a moment to spare.
He leans down to place kisses on Chuuya’s chest, exploring his partner’s body with his hands. When he’s had enough of Chuuya’s taste on his tongue, he once again settles Chuuya’s cock against his ass and rocks his hips, moaning in pleasure and panting as Chuuya enters him again.
Chuuya’s right hand travels from his hip to his nipple, where he rubs against the nub in circles, sending ripples of goosebumps down Dazai’s skin. Chuuya takes in the display of Dazai’s sweaty body, the way his muscles wave with every move of his hips, and his hand returns to Dazai’s hip to help grind deeper into him. It hits just the right spot as they both moan and sigh in pleasure. Deeper, faster, harder. Dazai’s grinding has Chuuya panting and sweating, and he wants to give Dazai something to really moan about.
“Ah!” Dazai gasps as one of Chuuya’s hands leaves his hip to grab his reddened cock, and gives it good, quick thrusts before his partner is cumming in his hand with a quiet cry. The shocks of pleasure rippling through Dazai squeeze Chuuya’s cock in just the right ways, and he cums with a final deep thrust and a subtle “Fuck”, moaning with each wave of release.
They lay there for a few minutes. Breathless and panting, until Dazai’s body shivers on top of him, and Chuuya takes the closest sheet nearby to wrap it around Dazai’s body.
Dazai smiles down at him, careful with his movements, dismounting Chuuya to roll on his side. Chuuya turns to face him, ready to ask about where all this came from and what brought it on, when Dazai speaks first, seemingly understanding the questioning glance behind Chuuya’s eyes.
“Congratulations on finishing your tour, Chuuya. I heard this was your last stop, and I figured since you’re here and I’m also conveniently here, why not, you know?” Dazai gives a big grin, and Chuuya can’t help but smile back. He supposes that’s a good answer. Still.
“Is this your way of saying you missed me?” Chuuya teases with a raised eyebrow, as a blush spreads on Dazai’s cheeks. They scoff. “Whoa, Chuuya. Miss is a big word. My body is just a whore. That’s it.”
“Yeah, I can tell by the way you were screaming. It’s a good thing I have a penthouse on the top floor, or the neighbors would be complaining,” Chuuya says with a chuckle, opening one of his side tables to pull out a cigarette and his lighter. A pillow hits him on the back of the head, and he twitches. He forgets about his need to smoke.
“Really, Dazai?”
“Screw you, and your ponytail.”
“Yeah, well, you liked it. So eat your words.” Chuuya huffs, and when he turns around to face Dazai to pounce him and playfully wrestle him into the mattress, there is a buzz against wood. Chuuya blinks, and his attention shifts to his phone, where it rattles about awaiting to be answered.
“You can ignore that, you know,” Dazai says with a grin, getting comfortable with a pillow beneath his head.
“Yeah, but what if it’s important?”
“Who’s going to need you at midnight?”
Chuuya rolls his eyes and picks it up to check the caller ID. “It’s Ane-san?”
Beside him, Dazai shifts a little, and he wraps himself in the blankets like a caterpillar. Chuuya ignores it and answers his phone.
“Hello?”
“Kiddo, where are you?” comes Kouyou’s voice through the phone, music in the background blaring and making it a little too hard to hear.
“Uh, Ane-San? I’m home. Where are you?”
“Where am I? I’m at your after-party with the crew and band! Did you forget what day it is? We’ve been waiting on you.”
“What day…”
“We were going to ring in your birthday. We’ve been talking about it for months.”
Birthday. Fuck. That’s right.
Tomorrow is his birthday, and he completely forgot about it to focus on their last performance and Dazai. Chuuya briefly turns to cast a glance at Dazai, who stares up at him innocently. “But… the assistant earlier said there was nothing scheduled, and our plans were set for tomorrow. I think they would have told me if something was going on tonight.”
“Kid, the party has been going on since your show ended. Do you need me to call someone to pick you up?”
“Uh…can you hold on a second?” Chuuya mutes the call, lowers the phone to open his calendar, and sure enough, all future dates are clear. Empty. Nothing scheduled after “final show”. Chuuya glances once more at Dazai, who flutters his eyes at him.
Chuuya closes his eyes, sighs as his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose because he has to ask. “Dazai… Did you delete the events in my calendar?” There’s a small giggle from the caterpillar beside him, and Chuuya finds himself also smiling with the giggling idiot. Chuuya should’ve seen this coming. As usual, Dazai can be a little shit. “Did you also hack the Mafia calendar because you wanted me to fuck you tonight?”
He gives a quick peek at Dazai, who looks away this time. “I don’t know what you mean. We are both here conveniently together on a night when we are both in Yokohama, beneath the moon and the stars with nothing going on…”
Chuuya unmutes the call. “Ane-san, I’m going to have to call you back,” Chuuya says, and on the other side, Kouyou asks him if he’s alright. “Yes, of course. It was my bad. We can party tomorrow. I’m already settled at home. I guess I was a lot more tired after the show than I thought. We’ll take the crew out on me. Let them know.”
“Oi! Is that Chuuya?” comes a loud voice, and Chuuya can only assume it’s Albatross. The phone is seemingly handed over, and a bit of muffled shuffling is heard. “Chuuya! Chuuya! OI! How do you miss your own after party, man? You’ve missed out on Lipmann and Piano Man making out, and Ryuu puking his guts out…” Albatross’s laugh rings through the phone, and Chuuya can’t help but laugh with him.
“What?! Hey, did you grab a picture of that?”
“A picture? Heh, that’s a lot of faith you have in me, Chuu. I can’t even walk straight right now, let alone figure out where my phone is! Besides, I was puking… in the stall… next to Ryuu. Wait, whose phone is this? Oh well, never mind, not the mental picture I thought I would see tonight,” Albatross pretends to gag, and the mental image makes Chuuya laugh harder.
“You’d better be ready to get wrecked tomorrow all over again. No holding back on me.”
“More partying tomorrow? Yeah, that’s our Chuuya! And hey? Did that sweetheart from earlier work out for you?” Albatross yells into the phone before Chuuya tells him to shut up. Dazai seems to giggle beside him. “Happy Birthday!!!” Albatross yells into the phone as he walks away, before Kouyou’s voice comes back again. She clears her throat.
“Alright. Well, enjoy your night. Happy birthday, okay? And congratulations on finishing your tour. From the band, crew, Mori-san, and me, and everyone at Port Mafia Records. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Ane-san. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, and Kouyou hums. Chuuya hangs up, places the phone back on his nightstand, and turns to Dazai, who has cocooned himself so deeply that Chuuya thinks he has found himself a present ready to unwrap again.
“Chuuya, wait. I can explain,” Dazai says through fluttering lashes, and Chuuya shakes his head.
“Oh, now you want to explain,” he says, lifting the blankets away from Dazai, who yelps in the struggle to keep the blankets on, yet ultimately fails and giggles regardless. Chuuya then pins him once more, hands on either side of Dazai’s head, with a smirk. “You’ll have all night to do that.”
“I don’t think my ass can take more,” Dazai says through a grin, but that means nothing when his once soft dick is showing signs of coming back to life. Chuuya’s gaze shifts to Dazai’s lips, lowering himself a little to nibble on them, and Dazai gasps when Chuuya’s tongue darts into his mouth to lick all of him, swallowing his taste and moans like he’s starved. His bandaged arms wrap around Chuuya once more, and it’s not long after that Chuuya breaks their kiss to catch their breath. Chuuya leans his face close to Dazai’s, foreheads touching, before he mutters a small, “for what it’s worth. I did miss you, you dumb, needy fish.”
“You did?” the other whispers back while wrapping their legs around Chuuya’s waist. They smile up at him, and Chuuya can’t take his eyes off them. There is a light behind their eyes that makes Chuuya feel warm. “Happy Birthday, Chuuya,” Dazai says quietly to him, and Chuuya’s heart drums in his chest.
“Yeah, happy birthday to me,” Chuuya says with a faint smile and a peck to his lips. “I got one hell of a present. You really are something...”
One hand travels to Dazai’s ass to massage before his fingers return to Dazai’s hole to tease, feeling his own dick harden again. Dazai gasps and arches into the touch as Chuuya’s fingers enter him again, in and out slowly again.
Dazai’s nails drag down Chuuya’s back and leave marks that Chuuya hopes will stay till morning. Chuuya could feel himself harden again, too, and this time, he rubs his dick against Dazai’s, and they both moan from the stimulation.
“On your side. You’re staying the night,” Chuuya says, and Dazai hums, shifting to roll over as Chuuya makes himself comfortable and enters him from behind. Chuuya shifts as close as possible to Dazai to hug him, and Dazai’s arm rests over his, their fingers intertwining. At the same time, Chuuya rocks into his body slowly, enjoying the warmth of Dazai again.
The rising heat in his stomach coils with every thrust and gasp. He gives Dazai gentle kisses on his back while his partner moans, grinding back into Chuuya for deeper thrusts that drag longer, while whimpering and shaking with every caress Chuuya gives. It doesn’t take long for Dazai to finish again, and for Chuuya to follow.
Afterward, Chuuya gets up from the bed to grab a towel to clean their bodies. Bones are tired, and the adrenaline of the last performance has died down. He wants to shower, but figures he can wait until morning, having spent all his energy. If given the chance, he knows his birthday present will run out the door, and who knows when Chuuya would be able to see him again.
So for now, Chuuya returns to the bed where Dazai awaits him sleepily, and he gives them a lazy smile. He settles in the bed, where this time, Dazai embraces him closer to their chest and tucks them in, for once stunning Chuuya. Dazai doesn’t show affection much, but this definitely fell much more out of place from their typical sex.
“Chuuya, are you still awake?”
“Hm?” Chuuya answers with a tilt of his face, and Dazai gazes at him.
“I was thinking… I want to go next time.”
“I told you’d be staying the night already, mackerel.”
“No, Chuuya. I want to go…,” Dazai’s voice trails off, and Chuuya blinks up at him, brows knitting together, trying to understand through the sleepy haze. “I want to tour with you guys as an opening act next time...if you want.”
Chuuya’s eyes widen, jaw dropping. “You want to tour with us next time,” he repeats as if what he heard had come from the wind, fragile in its existence, but Dazai nods his head.
“I’ve been thinking… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be close to Chuuya. After all, I don’t think anyone can take care of my dog as well as I,” Dazai says with a proud smirk, and Chuuya gives his arm a playful shove.
“Ow!”
“You really are a cocky bastard, you know that? You’ve got guts talking to me like that,” Chuuya replies with a chuckle. “You mean it?”
Dazai nods his head, and somehow, Chuuya finds himself smiling. He places a hand on Dazai’s cheek, leaning to kiss them on the lips, and Dazai smiles into it. Chuuya can feel it.
“Fine. Anything you want, ‘Samu. Just shut up now, I’m tired.”
Dazai hums, pulling him closer again, and this time a kiss lands on the top of Chuuya’s head, but he doesn’t speak about it. Whether for his birthday, or if this was Dazai’s unsaid confessions through his touch, it makes Chuuya feel bubbly tonight, but it has him thinking… Maybe they really could work out after all. Be a little more. All they might need is just a little more of each other’s touch.