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Dazai had been certain he’d covered all his tracks. The thing he hadn’t accounted for was Chuuya-- of course,a measly bomb wasn’t enough of a good-bye gift. He wanted more, and if anyone could track him down, it would be Chuuya.
When he finds Dazai, nearly six months since his defection, it’s in Tokyo, in a shitty, cramped hotel booked under a fake name. He lets himself into the room, inspecting the inside while Dazai sits stock still on the bed. Neither of them say anything for a moment while Chuuya makes a show of breaking the door handle off, crushing it in his fist before letting it fall to the ratty carpeted floor. He turns to face the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You couldn’t at least book somewhere nice?”
“I wasn’t expecting guests,” Dazai says meekly. His eyes are darting between Chuuya’s face and the door, his hands folded neatly in his lap. The bandages on his wrists are stained red in places, his fingernails bitten raw and half-scabbed over. Under his eyes, sunken in his gaunt face, is a sickening purple color. Chuuya takes a step towards him, pleased when he flinches back slightly.
“Bullshit.”
Dazai swallows, crawling backwards up the bed. When Chuuya’s knee hits the mattress, his torso pitching forward so he can crawl up onto it, trailing predatorily after Dazai, the brunet’s leg twitches like he’s going to kick out at Chuuya but decides against it, his back hitting the headboard. It’s no use fighting back-- Chuuya would win, and he’s more likely to treat Dazai kindly if he plays along.
“You’re so skinny,” Chuuya says, prodding his side, “It’s fucking pathetic. I can feel your ribs. You look like shit.” His lips split into a grin. “It suits you.”
“I’m glad Chuuya’s pleased.”
The fingers on his side clench and tear, his shirt falling away. “Shut the fuck up.”
Dazai squeaks, pressing back into the headboard when Chuuya pushes the rest of his shirt away, fingers tracing over scars on his chest. There’s more now than there were when he left, but Chuuya doesn’t comment on it, only drags his nails across the sensitive skin to watch gooseflesh rise in their wake.
“Here’s how this is going to go,” He says, humming when Dazai tries to squirm away from his fingers, “You are going to sit pretty for me while I take what I want. What I deserve, hm?”
Dazai remains silent, looking at Chuuya blankly.
“...And if you’re good , maybe I’ll go easy on you.”
He tweaks one nipple, pulling harder and harder until Dazai’s expression cracks slightly, his breath hitching.
“And you’re going to show me everything. Cut that shit out, right now.” When Dazai’s face remains blank a beat longer, he reaches up and slaps him,hard, across one cheek. “ Now .”
Dazai’s face falls into a pout, eyes wide and wet.
“Better. Don’t fake it.”
And with that, he tugs Dazai’s pants down, ignoring his startled gasp to shove his legs open. He’s not really wet-- not that Chuuya cares-- and he shakes a little when Chuuya shoves two fingers inside his cunt, dry and harsh.
Two hands land on his forearm. “W-wait-”
“No.” Chuuya spreads his fingers wide, watching Dazai’s pinched expression carefully. “You didn’t wait for me before taking off without a word. Why should I wait for you now, bastard?”
Dazai whines, hips drawing back into the mattress feebly, trying to get away from the friction.
“Stay still,” Chuuya grunts, squeezing Dazai’s hip with his other hand, “Or I’ll make it hurt more.”
Falling still, Dazai puts an arm over his eyes, breathing out hard through his nose. Chuuya’s thumb flicks his clit meanly, more painful than pleasurable. The fingers inside him are scissoring carelessly, barely taking the time to stretch him before they’re already being drawn out. Dazai can hear the sound of Chuuya fumbling with his belt, his other hand leaving Dazai’s hip. It’s a momentary reprieve, and he braces himself for what’s to come.
Chuuya’s hand lands on his hip again, dragging him down the pillows a little.
“You’re not gonna,” Dazai hiccups, hissing when the head of Chuuya’s cock presses against his entrance, “Fuck me from behind? That’s how you usually-”
“Shut the fuck up,” Chuuya says, hips pressing forward incrementally. It makes them both hiss. “Fuck, you’re tight. I would have thought you would spent this whole time getting fucked like the slut you are… were you saving yourself for me, Osamu?” Chuuya coos meanly, grinning when Dazai clenches around him at the name. His hips jerk forward the rest of the way, sliding in suddenly enough that Dazai cries out sharply, back arching a little. His hands land on Chuuya’s arms again where they’re holding his hips still.
“Wait- don’t- Chuuya , slow down-”
Chuuya ignores him, starting up a fast, brutal pace, eyes fixated on Dazai’s strained expression. he’s sweating, little tears beading at the corners of his screwed up eyes, and it’s only now that Chuuya realizes he’s ditched the face bandage. It’s-- weird , seeing Dazai with two eyes, even if they’re closed now. Too vulnerable. Too human. A little pinch of guilt wells in Chuuya, easily snuffed out when Dazai clenches around him and he groans, hips jerking harder, faster, driving Dazai back up the pillows until the top of his head is bumping into the headboard.
“I ought to knock you up,” Chuuya growls, scraping his nails over Dazai’s sides.
Panicked, Dazai claws at Chuuya’s forearms, shaking his head, a sound like a wet scream falling from his lips. “No- no, don’t-”
“Why not?”
Dazai sputters and gasps, tensing and shuddering. The look of terror on his face makes Chuuya’s gut clench in arousal, and he laughs breathlessly, fingers punching bruises into Dazai’s skin. “Why shouldn’t I? Are you gonna stop me, ‘Samu? What are you gonna do?”
Another truly pitiful sound tears out of Dazai, and it only serves to make Chuuya’s arousal burn hotter. The rush of power is intoxicating; even more so is the way tears have begun to spill over Dazai’s cheeks in earnest now. He dips forward to lap at them eagerly, humming into the red, burning skin of his face. “Scared, baby?”
Dazai shakes his head petulantly. Chuuya sucks a mark into the hinge of his jaw, where it’ll be clearly visible.
“Aww, that’s too bad…”
Leaning back, Chuuya grabs ahold of Dazai’s hips, hoisting them higher, and higher until Dazai’s legs sliding until his knees are practically on Chuuya’s shoulders. It puts his weight on his shoulders, his back pulled up in one slanted line. Like this, Chuuya’s nearly mounting him, hips still pistoning into him, now from above.
The new position draws a real scream out of Dazai, eyes flying open, nearly bulging at the feeling of Chuuya sinking impossibly deeper, his hands falling to press at his stomach. “Ah- oh- ”
Chuuya presses into him, pressing deeper, hands holding Dazai’s hips up.
“You’re gonna kill me,” Dazai babbles blindly, “Please, kill me.”
Another thrust has Dazai screaming again, shaking in Chuuya’s hold, pinned to the mattress and utterly helpless. Beneath his hand, he can feel Chuuya’s cock moving inside of him, and it makes him ache, something inside him straining, fit to burst.
“It hurts,” He whines, “Something inside- ahn- slow down, Chuu-”
“Shut up, slut,” Chuuya growls, lips upturned into a feral smirk, “I’m gonna knock you up, and then you’re gonna be stuck with me for real, bastard. I’d like to see you try to get away from me now…” He groans, one hand leaving Dazai’s hip to migrate to his clit, pressing into his harshly until Dazai squirms. “I’m going to fill you so fucking deep, you’re never getting me out of you.”
“Hnng-” Dazai says intelligently, screwing his eyes shut again, trembling so hard now that he’s almost convulsing under Chuuya. He feels like Chuuya’s cock is lodged all the way in his throat , pushing into him so deeply, as if really molding himself into Dazai’s insides. The idea makes him ache, amplifying the feeling of- of something inside him being battered by the head of Chuuya’s cock.
He’s still kneading at his stomach, feeling where Chuuya’s pressing into him. “Feel that?” Chuuya growls, eyes flickering between Dazai’s face and the bulge pressing his hand up and down on his own stomach, “Can you feel me in your womb ?” He snickers, only half-mocking. The idea of it-- really knocking Dazai up, breeding him , he thinks with a shudder-- is inexplicably appealing, and something possessive in him is deeply satisfied with the idea. He really ought to knock Dazai up, like he said. Just the idea has him shooting closer and closer to orgasm. Dazai is clenching and twitching around him, spilling slick around his cock finally , and Chuuya preens internally at the thought that Dazai is secretly pleased. That Dazai secretly wants Chuuya to breed him.
“I’m gonna carve myself into you,” Chuuya grunts mindlessly, “Make you shaped to my cock, only me, ever. Nothing else, no one else, you’re mine-” He groans, pinching Dazai’s clit between two fingers until he howls. “Gonna- fuck- fill you up,” He threatens. A particularly hard thrust, angled just right, has Dazai's answer dissolving into a cry, so Chuuya does it again, and then again and once more, watching Dazai's face contort.
Dazai’s shaking his head, and he peels his eyes open, wet and teary and so, so, desperate-- it’s that look that makes Chuuya come, hips twitchign and stuttering as he spills inside Dazai. A growl tears out of him at the same time Dazai sobs helplessly, come filling his insides as he shakes.
Chuuya pries his own eyes open, waves of pleasure still washing over him, to watch Dazai shuffle and shudder. He pulls back slightly, his cock falling from Dazai’s messy cunt, and uses his hands to hold Dazai’s hips up.
“Put me down,” Dazai sniffles, batting at his eyes furiously.
Chuuya grins at him cheekily. “No way. I gotta make sure it takes.”
“Wha- aurgh,” Dazai grunts, voice giving out weakly. Chuuya isn’t sure if he’s come, but it’s not his concern right now. He stares at Dazai’s cunt, one weak trickle of come leaking from his hole. He hoists Dazai’s hips higher, using his other hand to push it back in.
“Ah!” Dazai jerks, his weight being pushes onto his neck, “Not so high, it hurts, it hurts-”
“You big baby,” Chuuya says, rolling his eyes. He leans forward to suck his clit into his mouth, groaning slightly when it pulses on his tongue. It’s so- alive. So unlike Dazai. He savors it, holding Dazai’s hips up at a painful, obscene angle while he laps at his clit. Dazai’s legs are flailing dramatically around his head, and he’s whimpering and sniffling so pathetically-- Chuuya moves one hand to his ass, squeezing it hard.
“Why is Chuuya doing this to me,” Dazai whines pitifully, jolting when Chuuya suction his clit again. When Chuuya raises his gaze to meet his eyes, there’s tear tracks on his cheeks and his face is flushed red all over-- maybe because of the blood rushing to his head at the odd angle. Oh well. He can take it.
“This is what you deserve, sweetheart,” He grumbles, pulling his face back from Dazai’s cunt to watch it clench. It makes his cock twitch, and he looks back up at Dazai, showing his teeth. He’ll wait a few moments longer, and then they’ll go again, whether Dazai is ready or not. He plans to stuff Dazai so full he would never even dream of leaving again, so full of Chuuya he can barely breathe.