Chapter Text
It had been a long, strenuous evening for nightclub assistant manager, Nakahara Chuuya.
His job overseeing staff at the ポートクラブ should be easy. There’s enough of them in place at all times. There’s bartenders, bouncers, cloakroom attendants, even a DJ, since the bar offers a vibrant dance floor and karaoke area… every member of staff perfectly fits a piece of the glitter-lined puzzle. And yet, somehow, there’s always some mishap. Tonight’s involved a rather intense karaoke battle between a Russian and a tall brunet male who wore mysterious bandages around his neck and forearms.
The pair were belting out soppy love ballads so loud that it had Chuuya’s ears positively bleeding. It was full-out war, and both were determined to win, civilian casualties (aka busted ear canals) were just a necessary evil with these two assholes. Eventually, the mics gave in, and the amps exploded. They quite literally emitted a screeching feedback… then bang.
The brunet is a regular. Chuuya can’t stand the smug bastard. He will often just sit at a barstool, order “a cup of bleach” (a blue margarita, since a cup of bleach is never actually on the menu), and mouth off about a wide range of snobby topics, including anything from philosophy to physics. Chuuya once asked him if he was a professor, but he simply shook his head and told him he’s unemployed. Which figures, considering he always wore the same old beige trench coat, paired with those bandages. What kind of injuries is he hiding? Who knows. He’s never without them.
After the incident, and with help from the two bouncers, Gin and Tachihara, Chuuya escorted the man into the upstairs security office. They encouraged him to take a seat, and as drunk as he was, he sat with an air of his usual arrogance.
“Aw, come on, really? Am I not a devoted customer here? Come on, Chuuuuuyaaaa. We’re even on first name basis!”
“You literally just read my name tag, dumbass! Now hurry it up. Those amps cost ¥10,000 each.” Chuuya mockingly held out his palm, motioning that he wanted the cash plonked down in the centre. He knew this man wouldn’t pay up that way, but he hoped it would irritate him all the same.
The man sighed irritably, dark brown tresses falling over his wide, puppy dog eyes.
“Chuuya… please? You know I’m unemployed right now-“
“You’re unemployed and yet you find the funds to go out drinking at this bar every other night. Funny, that. But not haha funny. Y’get what I’m sayin’?”
The brunet was now clenching his fists, scrunching them up over his kneecaps.
“Why don’t you just make the Russian guy in the fluffy hat pay up? He’s the one who screeched out Tsubasa Wo Kudasai at the top of his lungs-“
“- Stop blaming your shitty excuse for singing on others. Besides, Dostoevsky-san has already paid his share up front. He apologised for the trouble. Why can’t you just follow suit and do the damn same?!”
“Oh, didn’t you hear me the first time? BECAUSE I’M BROKE-“
Tachihara and Gin aggressively grabbed a shoulder each to stop the man from lunging forward. They clearly assumed that there was a strong possibility he was considering lashing out at Chuuya… but Chuuya knew this guy. He was stupid, but not THAT stupid.
“Listen, pal. Didn’t ya read the sign on the door? You break it, you buy it,” Tachihara explained, patting the man’s shoulder in a condescending manner. “So c’mon - pay up. It’s only ¥10,000, eh?”
“Look - I’ll pay it back by tomorrow evening. How does that sound? I’ll have some money by then, okay?”
The two bouncers looked quizzically at Chuuya. It was his call. Could he trust this man to come back with the funds?
“Ugh… alright. But I’m gonna need some contact details. What’s your name, please?”
The brunet smiled. “It’s Dazai. Dazai Osamu.”
The first leaking light of dawn threatens to creep up upon the dark horizons of Yokohama. The moment he is finally home, Chuuya kicks off his shoes and uniform, then jumps in the shower. The sensation of running water washing over his body is a guilty pleasure of his. Every little concern from his shift will be drowned to death in the purifying liquid, then float away carelessly down the drain, never to be seen again.
He swore by the fact that, if it wasn’t for the great pay, Chuuya would’ve quit ポートクラブ long ago. But instead, he had worked his ass off, becoming an assistant manager in less than a year. That was a new record for any of the existing staff there. So it comes as no surprise that Chuuya likes to spend his down time wisely…
And, just like any other 22 year old single bachelor, that down time is often spent jacking off to porn on the internet.
Chuuya waits patiently upon his mattress as a bright screen glares crudely back at him. “ 人間失格 - Going live in 5 minutes”, it reads.
人間失格 … “nolongerhuman”? Weird choice of username. Perhaps that same curiosity was exactly why he had clicked on it. That, and this particular streamer is apparently local. Their background picture on their profile is a nighttime landscape view of Yokohama, one identical to the sight he bid farewell only half an hour beforehand; a magenta sky illuminated by dozens of shining city lights. A sky so beautiful, it distracts from any atrocities committed beneath it.
The redhead takes a sip of his beloved after-shift glass of red to calm his erratic nerves. He still doesn’t fully understand why this would make him nervous. It’s just some rando on the internet. The rando can’t see Chuuya, sat cross-legged on his bed, tuned in on his quaint little MacBook Air, as he ejaculates into a box of tissues and clears his search history. It’s not like anyone would ever find out about his little hobby, or the fact he likes c-
But before he can confess anymore of his own secret sins to himself, a person appears on the screen.
To be more specific - a man.
His head is obstructed from view. All that is visible is his body… a sculpted, lanky male body that is wearing the skimpiest set of underwear that Chuuya has ever seen. It’s definitely something he can’t imagine a guy like himself wearing… the bralet is made of a black mesh, the man’s nipples clearly poking through the thin fabric. The panties match, with frilly panels on either hip, just like the bra straps. The outfit (if you can even call it that) is accompanied by fishnet stockings, suspenders with tiny satin bows, and a leather waist harness made from three thin belts. His toned abdomen is visible beneath.
There’s something else that Chuuya simply cannot NOT notice…
Bandages.
Wrapped tightly around his throat. And around his forearms. Around his torso, the visible part of his thighs…
“Good evening, everyone. Or… should I say good morning? Hehe~”
That voice…
It’s him.
The camboy has so much as said “hello” when the comments section begins to fire up. Several usernames fill the side column, none of whom Chuuya recognises. Which makes sense. This is indeed his first time watching this particular camboy’s stream.
The man goes silent for a few seconds, and Chuuya realises he is reading through his comments. He can just about see his mouth drop into frame, smiling wryly in short intervals. The rest of his face remains hidden. “Oh, hello again カムスラット 69! What a pleasure it is seeing your delightfully unique name pop up on my screen again. Would you like a little extra spice tonight~?”
This guy. Flirting with everyone. Clearly to make money-
Wait. This is how this unemployed rascal is gonna pay me back?!
Chuuya wanted to dropkick his laptop out the window of this third storey apartment.
But that small speck of sense left inside him forces him to refrain.
He can’t believe it. Out of all the men on the internet… all of the men in Yokohama… of course the one camboy that appears on the screen is him. The fucking Mackerel.
“Oh well look at that, I spy some new usernames in the room… “ 汚れた悲しみ ”… oooh, “taintedsorrow”, hmm? Very edgy.”
Fuck. That’s Chuuya’s username.
He can’t leave now. That would look so suspicious.
Or is that just Chuuya’s brain making excuses to stay?
There is a morbid curiosity to witness what this man intends to do in this livestream…
And he’s hot.
Chuuya can’t deny that. As much as he wants to with every fibre of his being. The redhead simply cannot peel his gaze away from the breath-taking sight on the screen. A slutty, lanky femboy whose tight leather stretched over a toned, sleek physique has him foaming at the m-
“Hey, taintedsorrow, you there? Since you’re new I want you to pick first.”
“Wh-whaaa-?” Chuuya suddenly snaps out of his daydream, wiping his lips on the back of his forearm. This guy is asking him - Chuuya - no one else - to choose something?
The camboy extends his arms off to the side of the screen… when they return in view, there’s an object in either grip.
Toys.
“Sooooo… type in the comments your answer, taintedsorrow. For unless you plan on paying me a lil’ extra, this will be your only choice tonight… ufufufu~…”
Chuuya can’t breathe.
The comments section is heating up before his eyes. Some users are complaining that a random newbie gets to choose, while others are furiously typing which toy they themselves would go for. Chuuya tries to read each one to bring himself some clarity on the situation at hand, but it’s no use. The never ending stream of countless usernames and comments blur into one while he himself spaces out.
Do I choose the dildo… or the ring?
“Come oooonnnnn, taintedsorrow, don’t keep the others waiting~…”
“Ah, fuck this-“ Chuuya flexes his fingers… then presses some simple keys.
ディルド - enter.
Chuuya wishes more than anything that he could see the expression on the camboy’s face… but that obviously won’t happen. He’s so determined to keep his face hidden the entire time…
“Oh… you wanna see me ride this, huh? You naughty thing~.”
The corners of Chuuya’s lips twitch upward.
Am I… actually blushing?!
“Well then, I best prepare myself… this is a nice, thick girth, after all…” the male momentarily turns his back to the camera, giving his audience a money shot of his exposed asscheeks, a single skimpy string preventing his hole from view.
“I’m just grabbing some things to prep with… what do you all suggest, hmm? My usual?” He holds up a bottle of lube in a brand Chuuya has never heard or seen of before, which is telling since Chuuya works in a nightclub, a place where lube is (unfortunately) a common sight, especially in the bathrooms… “-or should I just… spit on it, and hope for the best?”
Once again, comments scroll by like a hurricane, one after the other.
“Ah! Sorry. I forgot to mention. I will only be taking orders from the highest bidder… within the next two minutes. So gents - and ladies - and all of you lovely people of all genders tuned in tonight - time to put your money where your mouth is~! For you newbies, the pledge button is on the top-right hand corner of your screen in big green letters~”
As if Chuuya (or anyone else tuned in on this stream, for that matter) needed to be reminded of that garish green button, zooming in and out every 2 seconds accompanied by a large glowing ¥ sign.
Pfft. This could be a scam for all I know.
Chuuya sighs, blowing the fallen bangs of his wavy burnt-orange tresses up and away from the bridge of his nose.
He sits back and watches as the comments flood with patrons.
カムスラット 69 donated ¥20000!
23NotUrBoi donated ¥60000!
Nyaaanmew donated ¥120000!
and so forth.
Do people honestly fall for this shit?
Like hell am I putting any money d-
“Hmm… is that all you guys think I’m worth? C’mon… don’t you think seeing me do some naughty things for you is worth a teeeeeny tiiiiiny bit extraaaa~?”
His fake-cutesy accent is making Chuuya want to hurl.
“… Alright. How about this? If someone bids ¥250000 before time is out, not only will I let them choose how I prep… I’ll let you choose how I fuck myself too. You can be my master~…”
…
汚れた悲しみ donated ¥300,000!