Work Text:
“Come on, chibi, you’re going to have to come out eventually.”
“Fuck you, Dazai—I still can’t believe you made me do this.”
Chuuya knew nothing good happens when you finally see your ex-partner after four years of silence from him.
Chuuya knew that seeing the man’s stupid grin as he watched him chained up in the dungeon would complicate how he felt—how it would bring out unwanted emotions that he tried to bottle up for so long.
He should’ve trusted his guts that Dazai had something planned when he asked Chuuya to talk in that damn voice that would always make that idiot laugh.
And because he allowed his heart to make the following decisions for him instead of listening to his head—he ends up back in his apartment later that night, with a stupid bandaged bastard sitting on his chair as he waits for Chuuya to finish his shower and change.
What for?
Well—
“You know I’ve always wanted you to be my maid, I’m simply living out my dream!”
Some shuffling can be heard from the inside of the bathroom. “Why the fuck do you have this outfit in the first place?”
Dazai shrugs, despite knowing that Chuuya won't see him. “I’ve had the perfect outfit picked out for you when I declared that you were to be my maid, so—”
“YOU’VE HAD THIS SINCE WE WERE 16?”
“…Well, yes. You haven’t grown since then so I knew it would still fit!” Dazai exclaims enthusiastically as he leans back into Chuuya’s leather chair.
There’s a long pause filled with silence and Dazai’s anticipation is merely growing by the second for when Chuuya will finally come out of the bathroom.
“…You…are so fucking unbelievable,” a low grumble can be heard before a clicking sound fills the air, Dazai’s heart pounding rapidly to the point that he can feel it in his head.
Now, Dazai knows that his partner—well, ex-partner—is good-looking. Maybe even more than just ‘good-looking’ if he’s being completely honest with himself.
Everyone in the Port Mafia knows, all the enemies that Chuuya fought knew (which the redhead would use to his advantage sometimes during missions): Chuuya is beautiful.
So, it shouldn’t have been as surprising when Dazai watches the redhead shuffle awkwardly out of the bathroom, a noticeable spray of pink blush across the chibi’s face as he stands a couple of feet away from Dazai with his arms crossed.
It shouldn’t have made Dazai’s heart stop with his chest feeling as if it’s filled with molten lava while he takes in the view before him.
Dazai knows Chuuya has a great body; the man is an expert in martial arts and works out constantly—but Dazai’s throat still goes dry when he takes in how the dress curves around the redhead’s body elegantly, accentuating his narrow waist and notably round hips that just fits Chuuya perfectly—maybe a bit too perfect.
“Okay, first of all,” Chuuya starts, moving his hands to gesture at his own body, “this is a fucking 'sexy maid costume' and you wanted me to wear this at 16?”
Dazai’s lips curl into a malicious smirk. “Can you blame me? I was a teen with raging hormones, Chibi.”
Chuuya clenches his jaw and huffs out an annoyed breath through his nose, “Second of all,” he reaches his arms to ruffle the white lace that wraps around his thighs along with the black lace stocking, “this was so fucking unnecessary.”
He’s right.
There was no point in wearing that but, if Dazai managed to get him to wear the outfit, he’s going to indulge in that opportunity and have him wear some things to essentially add to the outfit to make it more…erotic if you will.
“You still wore it though,” Dazai points out with a grin that causes the redhead to merely narrows his eyes in frustration, completely unaware that Dazai had his phone in his hand with his camera open until Dazai gives him a conceited wink. “Say cheese.”
“You—” Chuuya’s eyes widen with rage, “you fucking asshole,” he stomps across the room to grab Dazai’s phone, hovering over the brunette that’s sitting on the chair, “delete that shit!”
“No,” Dazai whips his arm behind him, just out of Chuuya’s reach which forces the redhead to rest one knee on the chair, “I don’t think I will,” Dazai muses as he watches Chuuya struggle to grab the phone, causing him to bring his other knee onto the chair.
With his free arm, Dazai wraps it around Chuuya’s middle, his hand pressing heavily against Chuuya’s lower back which pushes him closer to Dazai, causing the redhead to lose his balance and fall flat onto Dazai’s lap.
Simultaneously, Dazai tosses his phone onto the bed, strengthening his grip around Chuuya’s middle to prevent the other from jumping off the chair to chase after the phone.
“Dazai,” Chuuya locks his stare with the brunette with eyes filled with irritation, “let go.”
Dazai hums nonchalantly as he slips his other arm around Chuuya’s hip, eyeing the zig-zag pattern of white ribbon across Chuuya’s chest. “But I want to admire the outfit up close.”
“You can do that,” Chuuya rests both hands on Dazai’s shoulders so he can push himself off, “without me sitting on your lap, mackerel.”
“I can,” Dazai admits candidly, “but, you’re already here so…”
Chuuya pauses to glare at the man in front of him. “You…did this on purpose didn’t you…”
Dazai tilts his head and blinks with false innocence. “Did what?”
“The fucking picture, you bastard,” Chuuya’s nose flares. “You did that so I would come after you, allowing you to get me in this position, right?”
Dazai’s grin spreads wide across his face and he’s beaming with smugness. “Congratulations, it seems like you’ve grown a few more brain cells since I’ve left.”
The only response Dazai receives are nails digging into his shoulders with sharp, blue eyes staring at him, which only causes Dazai to chuckle in a dark tone. “You put yourself in this position Chuuya, I’m just taking the opportunity to do what I want with it.”
“…” Chuuya’s grip loosens as he slumps his shoulders back, breaking their gaze to stare down at the white, lace ruffles at the hem of the dress.
“Do what?” The redhead asks quietly, a hint of curiosity that can only be detected by Dazai.
The brunette’s lips turn into a smile as he also looks down, but at Chuuya’s right leg, bringing the hand that was around the other’s hip to play with the lace fabric that’s wrapped snug around Chuuya’s thigh.
He doesn’t directly touch the soft skin, but the heat that radiates from Dazai’s hand when he brushes it against the fabric is enough to cause the muscles in Chuuya’s thighs to tense for a moment.
“You know…” Dazai trails his hand down to dance the tips of his fingers against the black stockings that cover Chuuya’s leg, tracing his index finger over a delicate pattern of a small flower in a steady motion, “lace looks good on you.”
Chuuya snorts. “Lace looks good on anyone, you idiot—”
“I would argue against that,” Dazai tilts his head up to look at Chuuya. “I’ve seen some people wearing clothes with lace in them—doesn’t suit everyone.”
“They probably didn’t wear it properly or the right colour,” Chuuya points out with a flat tone, trying to mask that his heart rate has increased ten-fold just by the sensation of Dazai’s delicate fingers on his thigh.
“Not everyone can pull it off…but you can,” Dazai flashes him with a playful glint in his eyes. “You should wear it more often.”
Chuuya swallows, “I would—but it won’t be for your bandaged ass.”
“Oh,” Dazai trails his fingers up Chuuya’s thigh, lightly brushing the pads of his fingers against the cream skin that already has goosebumps. “I’ll simply be there by the sidelines to enjoy whatever show you decide to put on, chibi.”
Chuuya pauses, his heart doing backflips when Dazai’s hand lingers at his inner thigh, the anticipation for his hand to travel under the dress is growing by the second—
“That would require you to be here and not leave,” the last word includes more bite than it probably should have, but Chuuya can’t help it.
Dazai left.
Not a single word for four years then returns and acts like nothing has happened, as if he merely went out to buy groceries and came back—
It leaves an empty pit in your chest that can’t be filled by anything else, despite how hard you try.
Dazai’s brow arches up slightly, his eyes immediately turning into a soft, caramelized brown as he decides to move his hand over the hem of the dress, feeling the rough, lace fabric between his fingers. “Where would I go?”
Chuuya stills for a few seconds—
He shouldn’t overthink that question.
“I don’t know where you plan on going after this, but I know it’s somewhere far from here.”
Dazai shakes his head as he continues to play with the fabric, occasionally teasing the bare skin with the slightest brush of his palm. “Why would I leave and miss the opportunity to see Chuuya in clothing with lace?”
It doesn’t mean anything—Chuuya is trying to convince himself that.
It’s just hollow words said out loud to give him false hope, it’s Dazai for fucks sake.
But…he can’t stop himself from the words that come out from his mouth—
“Nothing stopped you from leaving last time,” Chuuya hardens his eyes. “It’s hard to believe that what I wear will change that.”
Dazai knows that.
He knows that using an excuse such as that was stupid.
He doesn’t know how to say it out loud in the way that Chuuya wants him to—he knows Chuuya will willingly open his arms if he just says what he’s been wanting to for years now but…he just…can’t.
Dazai shrugs and dips his hand under the hem of the dress, causing Chuuya to flex his stomach and stiffen his legs, “My values have changed since then, Chuuya.”
Whatever Chuuya wanted to say next vanishes in his throat when Dazai snakes his hands further up his thigh, silently cursing himself that even after four years, he still misses how those fingers felt all over his body—how much it still affects him with just the slightest touches.
It’s not until Dazai’s fingers reach a thin line of fabric around Chuuya’s hips that his movements stop and his pupils are blown wide when he looks at Chuuya.
“Are you…” a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth when he follows the outline of the fabric, “wearing lace underwear?”
And Dazai finds it endearing at how red the other’s face gets so quickly—
“I—I needed to match the outfit, okay?” Chuuya stutters, nearly flustered at how delighted Dazai looks when he circles the fabric with his thumb.
“Sure but,” Dazai’s hand leaves a trail of warmth from Chuuya’s thigh to his ass, giving it a gentle squeeze that earns him a very soft gasp from the redhead, “nobody is going to see it under that outfit.”
“I did it for myself,” Chuuya grumbles through clenched teeth, trying to ignore Dazai’s hand on his bare ass.
Dazai arches one eyebrow in disbelief. “Oh really?”
Chuuya swallows hard, “…Yes.”
Dazai finds that hard to believe—
“So…” He moves his other hand that was supporting the small of Chuuya’s back to steadily run his hands through the soft fabric before he slips it under the dress, reaching for the other side of the redhead’s ass to give it another gentle squeeze, “you didn’t put it on for any other reason? Only for yourself?”
“That’s—” Chuuya’s breath hitches when both of the brunette’s hands start to massage his ass with more pressure this time, “what I just said, bastard.”
“I know,” Dazai hums in a low tone, his face getting extremely close to Chuuya’s and for a second, Chuuya’s breathing stops—that is, until Dazai nudges his face in the crook of his neck, his mouth breathing out hot air against sensitive skin that causes Chuuya to shiver, “I’m just making sure there was no ulterior motive behind it.”
“There isn’t,” Chuuya mutters quietly, feeling a little breathless when Dazai uses his hands to slightly rock his hips on his lap.
“Oh,” his dark chuckle reverberates against Chuuya’s neck, “I believe you.”
“You don’t sound like you do,” Chuuya points out in a small voice.
“I mean…” Dazai presses his lips against the warm skin at a certain spot on Chuuya’s neck, a kiss that’s so tender that it ignites a match inside the redhead, “You know how I get…” he places another kiss on his jawline, just below the ear, “when I see you in something pretty…” Dazai’s mouth brushes against Chuuya’s ear and it’s so close that his hoarse voice rumbles over the redhead’s spine, “I’m just making sure you didn’t wear it to…provoke me or anything.”
“…It’s not my fault,” Chuuya clears his throat, “that it turns you on when I wear stuff like this.”
“You’re right,” Dazai bites onto the other’s earlobe, sparking a shock of mild pain mixed with pleasure that he knows Chuuya likes, “It’s not your fault—but…”
He leans back so that his face is only inches away from Chuuya’s, his breath fanning over his ex-partner’s lips, “You knowing that I like it and deliberately putting it on is your fault.”
“…It’s not,” Chuuya whispers slowly.
Dazai hums slowly, “So…” he hooks his index finger into the fabric that’s between Chuuya’s ass to move them aside so he can circle his middle finger around his entrance, “you weren’t thinking about me doing this while you were putting them on?”
He can feel Chuuya’s breaths becoming a lot heavier now against his face and he can’t help but smile when Chuuya shuts his eyes, his cheeks nearly matching the colour of his hair.
“No…”
“No?” Dazai’s voice is filled with dissipation, “Then… I’m assuming you also weren’t thinking about me doing this,” he turns his head to the other side of Chuuya’s neck to suck on a pressure point that he knows will make the other squirm, “when you were putting them on, right?”
He knows Chuuya won’t answer.
Not when he’s sucking with his mouth on his neck, his tongue lapping at the skin while he applies just the right amount of pressure against his rim with his finger to cause the other to mindlessly whimper and slowly rock his hips against Dazai’s.
He gives it a few more seconds before he releases the skin with a wet pop, grinning at the purple mark that’s already forming on the other’s skin—a silent contract that shows he’s still Dazai’s.
He leans back again to look Chuuya in the eyes which are half-lidded and clouded with lust.
“…It’s been a while since we’ve done this,” the brunette murmurs in an alluring voice, his lips almost caressing Chuuya’s.
Chuuya knows it’s been a while and he knows that Dazai wants it as much as him but…it’s wrong.
It’s so wrong.
They’re ex-partners.
Working in different organizations—they’re supposed to be enemies.
Doing this will only complicate things, maybe make things worse than it already is and it’ll bring back emotions that Chuuya will be forced to sit alone at night and cry about for hours.
It’s wrong.
“This is a bad idea,” Chuuya speaks out softly, slowing down the movements of his hips.
Dazai brings his mouth closer, only stopping a heartbeat away from Chuuya’s, “And yet, you still haven’t pushed me off or thrown me against the wall.”
They both know Chuuya is more than capable of breaking out of Dazai’s hold and crushing him against the wall if he wanted to—but that’s the thing…he doesn’t want to and the fact that Dazai knows just makes irritation grow inside Chuuya.
It’s wrong.
Chuuya’s eyes flicker to Dazai’s lips that are very close to his—
He shouldn’t.
Dazai takes this time to slowly lick his bottom lip, leaving it slick with his saliva, tempting Chuuya to taste it.
He really shouldn’t but—
“Are you going to stop me, Chuuya?”
…No.
He doesn’t want to stop this, even if red lights are flashing at the back of his eyes…
Neither of them will remember who closed the distance between them first but, they don’t care.
Not when Dazai is sucking on Chuuya’s bottom lip with the faintest brush of his tongue against it while he simultaneously brings both hands to hold onto Chuuya’s head to deepen the kiss.
Not when Chuuya lets out a surprised gasp as Dazai rocks his hips forward, using that opportunity for him to slide his tongue inside Chuuya’s mouth, brushing his tongue against the other’s.
And definitely not when Chuuya’s sucking on Dazai’s tongue and threads his fingers through soft, brown hair, causing both of them to groan in the need for more.
The fact that they manage to easily fall back in sync with one another, their bodies knowing the next move of each other’s intentions before they can consciously react—it’s dangerously familiar and maybe a bit too comfortable for them.
A path of wet kisses travels from the corner of Chuuya’s mouth to his collarbone while Dazai’s hand trails down Chuuya’s body, tracing the curve of his waist before he dips back under the fabric to fill his hands with plump flesh.
Dazai’s teeth tug at the top of the outfit, dragging it down until the thin strap around Chuuya’s shoulder slips as it reveals a sensitive, pink nipple that he immediately lavishes with attention by nipping and sucking at it.
And it shouldn’t be a good thing that Dazai still knows how to guide his mouth and tongue to get Chuuya whining in mere sensitivity in only under 5 seconds.
He takes his time when he switches to the other side, dragging the rest of the top of the dress down to reveal the second nipple to swirl his tongue around, his right hand still massaging Chuuya’s ass while the other hand is reaching into his pants pocket to pull out a bottle of lube.
“You—” Chuuya stops himself with a soft moan, “had lube on you?”
A soft chuckle from Dazai causes warm air to fan over his sensitized nipple, then it’s hit with cool air from the loss of sensation when Dazai brings his head back up to look directly into sapphire eyes, “You of all people know that I’m good at predicting how certain events will unfold.”
“…How did you know?”
Dazai shrugs as he pours the liquid onto his fingers and slipping it back into his pocket, warming it up between his fingers before he’s back down and hovering over Chuuya’s hole, “I saw the way you looked at me earlier today—when you grabbed my hair to stare at me with your adorable attempt at being mad.”
Chuuya’s eyes are squinted, “It wasn’t adorable, asshole.”
Dazai brings his left arm behind Chuuya, sliding it upwards against the soft fabric until his hand reaches the back of Chuuya’s neck, enabling him to grab a fistful of red curls into his palm as he stares intently, “I thought it was adorable.”
They’re still there—bright red lights flashing in Chuuya’s peripheral, warning him that he will get hurt after this and all of this is wrong but—
Dazai’s grip on Chuuya’s hair locks so he can’t move and Dazai can stare directly into blue eyes that gradually increase in size when he pushes one finger inside, watching every twitch in the redhead’s eyebrows as he sinks deeper, observing the small ‘O’ shape Chuuya makes with his mouth when his finger is fully inside.
—It’s much easier to ignore everything outside and immerse himself in a world with only the two of them, a world that’s filled with golden-brown eyes that make you feel that everything will be okay.
Because Chuuya is small, even on Dazai’s lap he’s still at eye level and with the brunette’s grip on his head, he’s forced to stare directly into Dazai’s eyes when he feels his finger slowly moving inside him.
He can close his eyes but, he doesn’t want to—It makes everything more intense this way and Chuuya… likes it.
“You look pretty like this,” Dazai’s voice is still in complete control with a hint of admiration that can be heard with how low it is.
“…Don’t s-say that shit,” it’s hard to keep his breathing steady when you have a pair of predatory eyes staring intensely into yours along with something long opening you up in a pleasurable pace—it’s overwhelming.
Dazai’s chuckle is dark and full of disbelief as he uses the hand that’s holding onto Chuuya’s hair to push him closer so that their lips brush against each other, “sweetheart,” a smirk forms across his face when he can feel the walls tighten around his finger, “don’t pretend that me complimenting you doesn’t affect you,” he circles a second finger around the other’s entrance, “you like it,” simultaneously, he pushes the second finger in, drawing out a quiet moan from the redhead.
His voice is hoarse when he continues, “You like it when I call you pretty,” Dazai sets a slow pace with his fingers at first, watching Chuuya’s brows crease with frustration and pleasure.
“You like it when I tell you how good you’re doing,” the brunette bites onto Chuuya’s bottom lip and speeds up the pace, more whimpers can be heard from the redhead.
“It makes you feel nice when I tell you how perfect you are for me,” another finger gets added and he immediately aims for the other’s prostate with all three fingers, earning him a choked sob that Dazai happily devours with his mouth, “Doesn’t it?”
Yes, yes, yes—
Chuuya does like it when he’s good, he does like the praise and compliments and Dazai knows exactly how to deliver them so effortlessly to make him feel good.
“S-shut up,” Chuuya stutters out while he’s getting stretched out perfectly, making it hard to focus enough to speak if all he feels are spikes of burning pleasure within him.
The chuckle that escapes Dazai’s mouth vibrates against Chuuya’s body, “I don’t think you want me to.”
Chuuya lets out a whimper when Dazai uses his tongue to rub against the roof of his mouth, legs tensing whenever his fingers rub against the bundle of nerves.
And it feels good—really good, but…he needs more.
“A-are you clean?” Chuuya mumbles breathlessly between their lips while he rocks back down onto Dazai’s fingers.
The brunette nods, “I am,” he pauses for another kiss that’s a lot deeper this time, “are you?”
“Yes,” Chuuya answers while biting down on the other’s lower lip, his groans getting muffled at the back of his throat with every swipe against his prostate.
Dazai uses his free hand to pick out and hand the bottle of lube to Chuuya.
That’s the thing between them—they don't require much communication when it comes to this— their bodies flow in sync, knowing exactly what the other needs without a single word uttered.
It doesn’t take long for Dazai’s fingers to slip out and for Chuuya to take the bottle and shuffle back a bit to unzip Dazai’s pants, a satisfied groan escaping the brunette’s mouth after his erection is finally released from his slacks.
And the scene that Dazai’s left with right after is breathtaking—a beautiful redhead whose face is flushed red in desire just for you, who also happens to be wearing a sexy maid outfit that you picked out for him while sitting on your lap giving you a hand job—maybe Dazai did manage a successful suicide and he’s in the Promised Land that comes after.
Dazai leans forward to rub Chuuya’s thighs, coaxing him to come back in which Chuuya easily complies as he shifts his legs and moves his body up so that he’s just above Dazai’s length.
Chuuya braces his hands on Dazai’s shoulders and they look at each other with wide eyes, realization hitting them at the same time—they’re actually about to do this after four years.
…Maybe this is a bad idea.
This is their last chance to back out before they risk unravelling emotions and future situations that neither of them is ready to deal with.
They probably should stop, but—
They don’t.
Instead, Chuuya’s arms are behind him to hold onto the brunette’s legs for balance as he lowers his hips, his mouth opening when the tip of the head is in, rolling his eyes back as he feels Dazai growing deeper and bigger with every passing second.
And when Dazai eventually bottoms out, well…it’s too late to go back now.
Don’t get them wrong—they’ve had other partners within the last four years, so sex in itself isn’t a big deal—the difference here is that it’s with the person that you want—the person that you’ve thought about when you’re in a random hotel room at night with a faceless stranger.
It’s the fact that you’re finally able to feel that searing, tight heat that you’ve missed for so long, accompanied by hearing those alluring moans that you would frequently think about at night.
It’s the feeling of being so full that you can feel it in your lungs while you finally get to feel those slender hands all over your body again.
It’s the familiarity of it all that makes this different and…meaningful.
The first roll of Chuuya’s hips grants him a surprised curse under the brunette’s breath—so he does it again, and again, and again—his head thrown back and his palms are pressed against Dazai’s thighs as he rides him while Dazai’s grip is strong on his hips.
In a position like this, Dazai takes advantage of the exposed nipples right in front of him, taking the left nub between his teeth to lightly bite down before he immediately soothes it with his tongue, a choked moan can be heard from the redhead which Dazai can feel against his mouth.
His hands travel inches further down to hold onto Chuuya’s perfectly toned ass, following the wave-like motion of the other’s body as he continues to twirl his tongue over the sensitive nipple.
Then, Chuuya is leaning forward to place his hands on Dazai’s shoulders.
Dazai can feel the tension in the other’s thighs before he switches the motion and Chuuya is now bouncing on his cock with quiet moans filling their senses.
“Fuck,” Chuuya hisses quietly and Dazai leans back as he continues to squeeze Chuuya’s ass to help him to move his body, savouring the view before him—luscious, copper locks bouncing elegantly on the other’s shoulder with a look of determination as Chuuya tries to get himself closer to the edge, while the bottom of the dress flows in sync with every bounce—he is beautiful, huh?
One of Dazai’s hands cups Chuuya’s face to bring him into a languid kiss, “You feel so good,” his other hand leaves a path of tingling warmth as it reaches for Chuuya’s inner thigh, “so tight—” he has to cut himself off with a groan when Chuuya clenches around him, and he can feel how close the redhead is to his orgasm, “so beautiful.”
And Chuuya shudders at the praise, increasing his speed because he’s right there, just a little bit more—
Then, Dazai’s hand is finally wrapping around Chuuya’s aching erection while devouring his lips, and Chuuya can feel the groans vibrating from Dazai’s body and it takes over him completely.
“Dazai—” Chuuya moans when Dazai’s cock is continuously brushing against his prostate, “Fuck, I’m—” Dazai is making it nearly impossible for Chuuya to even get out a proper sentence, not when he’s stroking his erection at a relentless pace.
Dazai knows what Chuuya wants to say, but he doesn’t need to hear it because he can feel it.
He can feel Chuuya getting tight and his rhythm faltering after every rock of his hips—he just needs a little push and Dazai is more than happy to give it to him.
The hand that’s on Chuuya’s cheek travels behind his neck and Dazai pulls his head towards him, at the same time, Dazai tilts his head to the left so that the redhead’s ear is in front of Dazai’s mouth, “I know,” he whispers soothingly as he increases the motion his wrist, “let yourself go, Chuuya.”
For now, this is all about Chuuya—he wants Chuuya to set the pace with every thrust and roll with his hips, he wants to make sure Chuuya feels good before he takes over.
And that’s exactly what Chuuya’s doing—he wraps his arms around the brunette’s neck to balance himself better to move his hips in a way that feels good for him, aiming for the perfect angle that his prostate is hit with every thrust.
His impending orgasm is only growing by the second, a water balloon getting filled faster and faster and it doesn’t stop, it’s as if it’s almost on the brink of bursting with just the faintest addition of more fuel—
“God you’re so fucking perfect,” Dazai growls in a guttural tone and—well…
It doesn’t take much longer until Chuuya finally explodes, his orgasm puncturing through that balloon and taking over him and nothing but Dazai and pleasure is all he can feel.
Dazai waits for Chuuya to ride out the rest of his orgasm, his hand is gentle as cum spills onto it and his shirt, whispering soothing words into the redhead’s ear until he stops moving and Chuuya is breathing heavily onto Dazai’s shoulder.
When Chuuya finally feels like he can talk, he mutters quietly into Dazai’s neck, “Your shirt’s dirty.”
Dazai chuckles softly as he uses his clean hand to stroke soft, red curls, “I guess you should take it off then.”
Chuuya leans back to look at Dazai as he slowly unbuttons the brunette’s white-collar shirt, revealing a chest and stomach covered in bandages.
It’s no secret of what’s under those gauzes—Chuuya’s seen most of them already.
He’s been there when Dazai got some of those scars.
He pulls the shirt down Dazai’s shoulders and his arms, and the brunette shrugs out of it before he can put his hands back on the redhead’s hips.
Their gaze doesn’t break the whole time, only needing to communicate through their eyes and they both know—this wasn’t nearly enough.
Dazai leans forward to capture his lips with Chuuya’s, “Hold onto me.”
It’s not enough to make up for four years of abandonment and silence.
Chuuya doesn’t need to say anything else but to hold on and continue to suck on Dazai’s bottom lip while the other man stands to carry Chuuya to the bed.
And it still wasn’t enough when Chuuya’s on the bed and his knees, his hands tied with the apron from the outfit while Dazai fucks him from behind—the back of the dress bunched up in Dazai’s hand while he watches his cock slip in and out of Chuuya’s hole with the black lace panties pulled to the side.
Even when Dazai had Chuuya pinned to the wall, legs hooked around Dazai’s waist as he fucks the redhead until he goes limp in Dazai’s arms—it's not enough.
They end up back on the bed with Chuuya on his back, laid out beautifully for Dazai in his maid costume and hair splayed out around him with Chuuya screaming in tears of overstimulation while Dazai slams into him at a brutal pace.
When Chuuya is clawing at Dazai’s back and taking bandages off with his nails, Dazai kisses him with hunger, holding both thighs over his shoulder so he’s at an angle that hits Chuuya’s prostate with every roll of hips and—he doesn’t think.
The next words that come out of his mouth will change their relationship either for better or worse—
“I can stay,” Dazai pants against swollen lips and he can feel his orgasm reaching quickly, “tell me and I will.”
Is he thinking rationally right now? No.
Does he have the mental energy to do so when he’s just given his Chuuya two orgasms and he’s inches away from toppling over the edge himself? No.
“Like—” Chuuya gets caught off by a choked sob when Dazai thrusts harder into him, “for the night?”
“Sure,” Dazai presses a kiss at the corner of Chuuya’s eye to catch a tear, “and the night after that,” he rolls his hips to reach deeper, “and the night after that,” another kiss on the forehead, “and the night after that,” Dazai’s voice vibrates pleasantly when it’s spoken directly into his ear, “for as long as you want me to stay, Chuuya.”
Oh.
Now, Chuuya feels choked up for an entirely different reason—
“Will you?” Chuuya whispers so low it almost sounds like he’s saying it to himself but…
Dazai leans back enough to lock his eyes with blue ones, both hands travel to either side of Chuuya’s head on the bed and he can see the doubtful hope in Chuuya’s eyes.
“I can try,” which isn’t a confession, but…one that’ll be accepted for now.
Chuuya stares back into golden-brown eyes and for a moment, he truly believes it—that Dazai will stay this time.
But…trust is a hard thing to earn back.
With a soft kiss, Dazai leans back, his hands coming up and under the bend of Chuuya’s knees to keep them in the air while Dazai pounds into the redhead to chase his orgasm—nothing but their moans and bodies slapping against one another fills the air.
And when Dazai’s orgasm finally washes over him, a drawn-out groan vibrates from his throat as he spills inside of Chuuya—he drops back down to rest his head against Chuuya’s, taking a couple of seconds to catch his breath.
That was enough for the both of them
“I need another shower,” Chuuya winces while he lifts his legs off the other’s shoulder and rests them on the bed.
“We both do,” the brunette points out tiredly, snaking his hands up both of Chuuya’s legs and under the hem of the dress to massage soothing circles on his thighs.
Chuuya hums as he reaches for Dazai’s hair to scratch his head gently, “Is this your way of saying you want to take a shower with me?”
“…Maybe.”
Chuuya chuckles softly, “You need to get out of me first, idiot.”
Right.
With a lazy kiss that feels so tender and warm against their lips, Dazai slips out and brings Chuuya to sit up as he leans back, both of them shuddering as their fluids mixed with lube trail down Chuuya’s thighs and onto the sheets, “You can walk?”
The redhead nods and pokes Dazai’s chest in a teasing remark, “I’m a martial arts specialist, you think that’s going to make my legs weak?”
Dazai arches both brows and dramatically places one hand over his chest, “I’m just trying to be caring, chibi.”
Chuuya’s smile is bright and genuine, “I know,” both hands mindlessly reach up to drag Dazai into another kiss, words being mumbled between their mouths, “start the shower while I change the sheets.”
It feels like nothing has changed between them in the past four years during this moment—it’s alarmingly easy for Chuuya to feel like he can kiss him with no consequences and to forget the past between them.
After another peck, Dazai leans back and notices how wrecked the maid outfit is—one stocking is missing while the other is torn, half of it isn’t even on anymore and both of their cum is starting to cool on it, “You’re going to rip that dress into shreds after this, aren’t you?”
A beaming smirk covers Chuuya’s face, “Yup.”
Well, at least he got as much as he could out of it.
There’s a lot they need to do after this and they’re both fully aware of the mess—both literally and figuratively—that they’ve made tonight.
Because of what Dazai said and because of what Chuuya accepted.
It will take time, and it’ll be hard but…if both of them are willing to try then, the wait might be worth it.
When they’ve cleaned up and changed and end up back in bed, the only thing they care about at the moment is that Chuuya’s chest is flushed against Dazai’s while they settle in and wait for sleep to take over.
The only thing that matters at the moment is that it’s just the two of them in the dark, legs tangled while Dazai plays with Chuuya’s hair and—
They can deal with the mess they’ve made tomorrow.
Even if Chuuya is only half convinced that Dazai meant it…he won’t know until tomorrow.
Bright light seeps through the black curtains and paints a yellow glow in Chuuya’s room, which is enough to cause his eyelashes to flutter awake.
It doesn’t take long until his senses come back after a dream that’s long forgotten and that’s when he takes note of something—
The other side of the bed is empty and void of a bandaged bastard who, Chuuya is now cursing at himself for, said he would try and—he didn’t.
He left.
Why would Chuuya believe him?
Why did he think wearing a stupid maid costume would fix everything—
“Morning, Chibi.”
Chuuya jumps and sits up immediately, slightly wincing at how sore his legs are, watching the stupid bastard walking out of his bathroom.
“You’re still…” Chuuya’s eyes widen when Dazai walks over to give a gentle peck on his lips, the taste of fresh mint from his toothpaste is lingering on his mouth, “…here.”
One of Dazai’s hands tilts Chuuya’s chin to look up at him and he’s met with the warmest smile he’s seen yet and—
Maybe Chuuya is more than half convinced that Dazai meant it—and the realization of it scares him because there’s so much to discuss and figure out between them.
“I said I’ll stay, didn’t I?”