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Dance For Me

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Joint celebrations between the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia were, at one time, unheard of. However since the alliance between the two, they seemed to be becoming more and more of a regular thing. Parties to celebrate a job well done, parties for Halloween, even parties for Christmas (and Dazai hated those the most). Still, he couldn’t complain. Not when it was an excuse to see his favourite redhead all dressed up to the nines.

It was common for the Agency to arrive first, partially due to wanting the younger members to avoid most of the debauchery that usually occurred once the Mafia arrived later on. They weren’t exactly model citizens, after all.

For the most part, Dazai hated parties. They were loud, full of people, and usually boring as hell. Over the past couple of years, though, he’d grown rather fond of these particular parties. He found that seeing the people he cared about all laughing and drinking and dancing made him feel a little warmer inside. He didn’t even mind dressing up a little himself. He’d made a particular effort tonight, dressed in an impeccably fitted black suit (Kunikida had pestered him for a while about how he could possibly afford it), paired with a muted green pinstripe waistcoat and a white button down, to match his white shoes and fresh bandages. He finished the ensemble with a simple black tie and his hair tucked back behind his ear on one side. Bold, but for once, he’d planned to be noticed tonight. And if the sideways glances he was getting were any indication, his plan was working.

Dazai was already a few glasses of whiskey in when the Mafia showed up. The room was heaving with people but he could easily pick out Chuuya among them. His red hair was a beacon, but the rest of him shone just as brightly despite his short stature. Chuuya was also dressed in a black suit, but he’d forgone the waistcoat and was wearing an untucked  purple shirt instead. The first few buttons were undone, and his black tie hung loosely underneath. His choker was still in place, and he replaced his regular gloves with a half-hand version that still covered his knuckles and fingers; the parts that Dazai knew he hated most.

As though they were connected by some greater force, Chuuya suddenly looked straight at Dazai across the room. And then, he smirked. Dazai would later blame it on the alcohol, but his heart fluttered briefly before he schooled his features back into his usual mask of indifference.

Chuuya, in typical Chuuya fashion, made his way straight to the bar, avoiding conversation with as many people as possible, and politely smiling at anyone he was forced to interact with, ever the gracious Mafia executive. Dazai watched with amusement, nursing yet another glass of whiskey, as Chuuya sauntered over, glass of wine in hand. He stopped in front of where Dazai was sat on a plush bench seat, free hand on his hip.

“Having fun?” Chuuya smirked. Dazai hid his level of inebriation well, but Chuuya knew him better.

“I was, until a Slug crawled in,” Dazai replies, narrowly avoiding a pout.

“Slugs don’t crawl, stupid Dazai.”

“Well, I suppose they don’t have to, when they’re so close to the ground already...”

They fell back into their familiar banter easily. Despite the fact that they’d reconciled and had recently been seeing quite a lot of each other in every sense, outwardly, nothing had changed, and they still bickered like a married couple. Right up until-

Ne, Chuuuuuuuya?” Dazai drawled, lowering his eyelids suddenly.

“What, shithead?”

“How’d you feel about a lap dance?”

“What, you gonna go buy me one? I’m sure some of the girls here wouldn’t say no” Chuuya smirked straight back at the detective, taunting. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he had a feeling that the pay-off would be worth it.

Dazai’s gaze darkened, and for a split second, Chuuya was reminded of the torture specialist from his Mafia days.

“No, stupid chibi. You give me a lap dance. You look so good tonight, after all. It’d be a shame to waste all of that effort.” He reached out and pulled on Chuuya’s tie, tugging him closer so that they weren’t overheard, voice dropping to a dangerous timbre, “Besides, you know nobody but me can touch you.”

Chuuya swallowed, as discreetly as possible so as to not give Dazai the satisfaction. Recently, they’d been spending almost as many nights together as they did apart. They’d managed to keep it quiet so far though, and Chuuya wasn’t willing to change that by giving Dazai a lap dance in plain view of both of their coworkers.

“I should’ve known you were up to something. Get fucked, Dazai,” he snapped, before turning on his heel and storming off to spend time with some more civilised company, or so he told himself. Dazai watched him go, watched him down his wine with no finesse whatsoever before signalling for another glass, a smirk playing about his lips as he started a countdown in his mind.

He didn’t have to wait long. Less time than he’d expected, actually. Either Chuuya had had a long week, or he just really wanted to get laid. Still, it was long enough for people to have dispersed a little, and Dazai’s darkened corner of the room was relatively quiet. Chuuya made his way back towards Dazai, slower and considerably more drunk than he had been earlier. That much was obvious in the way that he swayed his hips as he walked, lidded eyes locked onto Dazai’s own. Dazai was so absorbed in his lover that he didn’t even notice the other people around them glancing at the redhead, something he would usually have dealt with by intimidating them to the point that they were scared to take their eyes off the floor, just in case they happened to accidentally fall on Chuuya.

The redhead in question stopped right in front of Dazai, raising his new glass (of harder alcohol, Dazai noted), hips cocked to one side and jacket nowhere in sight.

“What’s in it for me?” He demanded.

Dazai blinked, ever the picture of innocence. “Excuse me?”

His answer came in the form of a low growl. “You know what I’m talking about, mackerel, so cut the shit.”

A feral grin slowly spread across Dazai’s face.

“Does that mean you’ll do it?”

“Only if you give me a damn reason to. So out with it.”

Dazai gestured for Chuuya to move closer, before glancing around and deciding he was satisfied that nobody was paying them any attention.

“If you do it,” Dazai murmured, right up against Chuuya’s ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine, “I’ll take you into one of these back rooms, and fuck you until you can’t stand and my name is the only thought in your pretty little head. That’s what you want, isn’t it, Chuuya? I’ll give you what you want if you’re good for me.”

Ok, so maybe he was playing dirty by preying on the praise kink that he knew Chuuya had, but it was worth it to see the blush on his cheeks and the fire ignite behind his eyes, even if Chuuya scolded him for it later.

Chuuya straightened up, placing his glass on a nearby table, seemingly weighing his options. It was never much of a decision though.

The executive moved swiftly, with a grace that Dazai knew he had, but still took him aback every time. He straddled Dazai, rising up on his knees so that there was very little contact between them. Like this, he stretched both arms over his head, elongating his body, before starting to sway his hips to the music, his eyes never once leaving Dazai’s. The detective could already feel the heat pooling in his groin, as he grew hard almost immediately from their proximity alone. His body had long since been conditioned to react simply to the other’s presence.

As the song continued, Chuuya began to establish more contact, dropping down periodically and rocking his hips forward instead of to the side, applying pressure to Dazai’s erection only briefly before rising again, running his hands through his own hair, causing the brunette to sigh in pleasure. Not for the first time, Dazai was stunned to silence by his ex-partner’s beauty.

Chuuya leaned forward, bringing their faces close enough to feel each other’s breath, before dropping his hips again and moving down to ghost his lips across  Dazai’s neck. Instinctively, Dazai reached out to hold onto Chuuya’s thighs, but his hands were slapped away before they found their mark.

“No touching.” He growled, accentuating each word with a roll of his hips. Dazai groaned into his neck, feeling a flush rise in his own cheeks. He was sure that they were being watched by this point, but he was having too much fun to give a damn. 

Chuuya stayed low in order to keep grinding against Dazai, because apparently even he’d grown tired of teasing, but sat back and slid his hands back up his own body to his neck, and started undoing his tie, torturously slowly, carefully watching Dazai’s reaction. Chuuya knew full well how good he looked, especially tonight, and planned to use that knowledge combined with his encyclopaedic knowledge of his ex-partner to ruin him. He was doing a good job so far. Dazai groaned again, pupils blown impossibly wide with desire and he watched Chuuya successfully remove his tie before draping it around Dazai’s neck and pulling, bringing them closer once more.

Chuuya moved both ends of the tie to one hand, before fisting the other in Dazai’s hair and tilting his head back none too gently. Not pausing the rolling of his hips (Dazai assumed this was due to Chuuya being as hard as he was, and refusing to deny himself friction), he leaned forward, getting right up into Dazai’s face, lips a breath apart. Realising that the song was coming to an end, it was Dazai’s turn to swallow, as he contemplated what was coming next. He parted his lips slightly, planning to finally close the distance between them, coworkers be damned, when Chuuya leaned back suddenly, pulling the tie and subsequently Dazai with him, and Dazai could almost see the elegant lines of his muscles underneath his shirt.

Something in him snapped.

He stood suddenly, hands sliding under Chuuya’s thighs to prevent him from falling, and none too carefully deposited him back onto the floor.

“What the fuck, bandages?” He hissed. As much as he was loathe to admit it, Chuuya had been thoroughly enjoying tormenting Dazai in public, and wasn’t happy about being interrupted so close to the end of his little “show”.

Dazai didn’t answer, but he was already moving, dragging Chuuya unceremoniously by the sleeve, his desire clouding his brain alongside the alcohol.

They made their way away from the main party room, down a connecting hallway, Chuuya struggling to keep up with Dazai’s long strides. Dazai flung open the first door they came across, before pulling Chuuya into the (thankfully empty) room, slamming the door shut, and shoving him against it.

Chuuya didn’t even have time to protest as Dazai devoured him, all teeth and tongue. The detective bit down on his lower lip and Chuuya groaned into his mouth at the rough treatment. Dazai always knew what he needed. Whether that was soft and tender, or rough and fast, he could always read the situation without Chuuya saying a word.

Not separating their mouths, Dazai moved his hands from Chuuya’s hips, where they’d been pressing bruises into his skin, up to unbutton his shirt. Chuuya, not to be outdone, matched his movements, and before long they were both shirtless and panting, fumbling with belts in order to remove their clothing and feel skin on skin as fast as possible. Of course, Dazai, being Dazai, complicated this with his excessive use of bandages, and both knew it wasn’t worth removing them in a situation like this. So Chuuya made do with tugging at the ones wrapped around Dazai’s neck, loosening them just enough to allow him access to kiss and lick and bite the pale skin that he loved so much.

Gone, were the teasing movements of earlier. They were both aching and desperate for more of each other. Even through all the years of partnership, of fighting, of fucking; they could never get enough of each other. They were drawn together by some unseen force, and at some point they’d decided that it wasn’t worth fighting anymore. That they’d both be a lot happier if they just gave into their desires.

They weren’t wrong.

Pants and boxers were pulled down but not completely discarded, and soft moans filled the room as Dazai wrapped his long fingers around them both, stroking them together.

“A-ah,” Chuuya panted. “Dazai...”

He met brown eyes, unblinking, as Dazai continued to stroke them slowly. With his other hand, he pressed a small bottle into one of Chuuya’s.

“You seriously...ah- carry this everywhere, huh?” He teased, popping open the lube.

“Never know when- mmm- I might need it, chibi.” Dazai smirked.

Dazai held out his free hand, expecting Chuuya to coat his fingers in lube. Chuuya had a better plan. He ignored dazai, instead pouring the lube directly onto Dazai’s other hand - the one still stroking them both together. They hissed in unison as the cold liquid hit their flushed arousals, but Dazai didn’t stop his movements, moaning as it all became slick and smooth.

“Naughty, naughty Chuuya,” he scolded. “Making us both all dirty.” He emphasised the last word and Chuuya groaned.

“Dazai...if you don’t fuck me soon I swear I’ll cut your dick off an-“ he broke off in o moan as Dazai stopped stroking and pushed one of his slick fingers into Chuuya. The angle was awkward, so Chuuya lifted himself using his arms around Dazai’s neck, and wrapped his legs around Dazai’s waist, pressing their cocks together, causing heavenly friction as Dazai pressed in a second finger. He spun them around, using the door as support.

Chuuya pressed his forehead into Dazai’s bandaged shoulder as he rocked down onto his fingers, groaning softly.

“Hmm, someone’s desperate.” Dazai mused, mostly to himself, his breathing heavy.

“Shut...the fuck...up and just...ngh...fuck me...Osamu...”

It was his given name falling breathlessly from Chuuya’s lips that crushed Dazai’s resolve to tease Chuuya the way he’d been teased earlier in the main hall.

Growling low in his throat, Dazai scissored his fingers inside Chuuya a couple of times before removing them and sliding his hand over his erection briefly to make sure that he didn’t cause Chuuya too much pain. Although the knowing smirk on the redhead’s face was just asking to be wiped off.

Still, he lined himself up and pressed into Chuuya’s tight heat, moaning his name as he did so. Chuuya gasped, rocking down to meet Dazai.

“That’s it, beautiful.” Dazai cooed into Chuuya’s hair, “ride me, just like that. God, you feel...nnn...so good-“

“Haaah...Dazai-fuck!” Chuuya lifted his head, crushing his lips against the detective’s, desperate to claim every inch of him. “More....”

They set up a steady rhythm, Dazai thrusting up into Chuuya, and Chuuya rocking down to meet him, burying his cock impossibly deep. When Chuuya’s moans became louder in volume, and his movements erratic, Dazai switched angles, pounding into Chuuya’s prostate with every thrust.

“A-ah, Osamu! ngh, Osamu, don’t stop...”

It wasn’t long before Chuuya spilled between them with a low groan, milky white ropes splattering across both of their chests. He immediately went limp in Dazai’s arms, hanging onto him as if for dear life as he rode out his climax. Dazai was too far gone. He only lasted for half a dozen or so more thrusts before allowing himself to succumb to blinding pleasure, as he came inside Chuuya, moaning his name.

He slid down to the floor, his legs no longer able to support them both, and they stayed there for a while, both trying to catch their breath. Chuuya spoke first.

Shitty Dazai...got me all dirty...”

“I seem to recall...this being what you wanted...”

“You started it...bastard.” There was no venom behind his words.

Dazai tilted his head back slightly and laughed, and Chuuya felt his heart skip a beat at the sound. He’d never get over how beautiful Dazai’s laugh sounded; how gorgeous his face was when split into a genuine smile. Chuuya leaned forward, resting his head on Dazai’s shoulder once more. Dazai turned towards him, pressing a kiss into his soft hair, before murmuring,

“We should probably get back. Someone might be missing us.”

Chuuya scoffed, but nodded his agreement, and slowly they stood, redressing and cleaning themselves as best they could.

“How do I look?” Dazai asked, once they were fully clothed.

Chuuya took a second to study his lover; from his messy, loose bandages, to his flushed face and disheveled hair.

“You look like you just had sex in a storage cupboard.”

“Well, you look like I still need to fuck some more of that attitude out of you. So-“

This time, it was Chuuya who dragged Dazai out, trying to decide who’s apartment was closer.