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Chuuya’s jaw trembled with exhaustion, his mouth sore and aching. The fingers prodding around in his mouth were no help either.
“They’re pretty stuck on there, aren't they?” Dazai murmured, yanking at the false fang.
Chuuya hissed, grabbing Dazai’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth, “Asshole!”
The other expressed no sympathy for him, his hand still outreached to Chuuya as the redhead tried to loosen the strong adhesive of the fang himself.
It was almost impressive how well the teeth had stayed. They were long gone from that wretched prison, back in Yokohama and at Chuuya’s residence, and they were still completely intact despite the mafioso's admirable endeavors to remove them.
Dazai chuckled lightly to himself, “You might as well get used to living with those things in.”
He broke into a fit of genuine laughter at the sight of Chuuya’s bewildered face, his eye twitching comically.
“I swear to whatever God is out there if your psychotic, fucked up plan got these stuck on me I will shoot you for real this time.”
Dazai didn't believe one word out of his mouth, pushing himself further into Chuuya’s personal space (and he had already settled onto the bed awfully close to the other) just to poke the bear more, “But Chuuya looks so good as a vampire.”
He made sure to sound extra disappointed, lifting Chuuya’s lip again and brushing his finger over the teeth.
The other seemed like he'd well and truly given up on resisting Dazai and his antics, sitting slumped and defeated while the other caressed his teeth like some kind of fucking pervert.
Invading Chuuya’s personal space again, if it could even be considered invading personal space if your fingers were already in their mouth, Dazai fixed himself on the redhead’s lap, angling his head up and widening his jaw to continue playing with the fangs.
“Who knows. Maybe with these, you'll actually be able to leave a lasting bite mark on me?” Dazai thought aloud, clearly putting out bait for the other to take.
And take it he did, sputtering and grabbing the detective’s wrists again, “What is wrong with you, Dazai!”
Chuuya flinched when Dazai rocked his hips down on him, the man making a pitiful face, “Come on, Chuuya, humor me.”
He picked up the long strand of Chuuya’s hair, playing with it while grinding on him, “Do you even know how long I was in there with Fyodor just staring at me?”
He whined, “I haven't gotten off in weeks.”
“Please, Chuuya.”
That last plea was spoken like a whispered prayer in the chapel, falling from the sinner’s lips and finding a home in the privacy of the place between Chuuya’s neck and collarbone.
He’d have to admit that Dazai was a pretty compelling manipulator when he wanted to be.
Chuuya’s hands snaked up Dazai’s shirt, securing themselves on his waist before Chuuya repositioned them, turning Dazai over and placing him on his back.
The part about not being able to get off for weeks was almost indubitably true, as evidenced by Dazai’s already full erection from just dry humping.
Chuuya couldn't judge him that much, though, already half hard and pretty damn worked up. He'd only had his hand and the memories of previous nights for company in the past weeks.
He was careful of Dazai’s injured legs as he moved him around, spreading his legs and pulling down his pants. They had already had him treated, and one of the two legs had been deemed well enough to be left out of a brace, but his other was pretty jacked up and had to be placed in one.
“You going easy on me tonight?” Dazai asked as Chuuya reached for his shirt and helped him out of it. He let him, even though he could've done it himself.
“You have a broken leg and two bullet wounds.”
“Whose fault is that?”
Chuuya clicked his tongue, reaching for the bedside draw and pulling out an already well-used bottle of lube.
In all honesty, he didn't want to be gentle with him. He wanted nothing more than to fold Dazai over himself and pound into him until the other was heaving, but he had better judgment than that. Sure, he was worked up, and sure, he had been fantasizing about getting Dazai in his bed again since the last time they hooked up, but broken leg supersedes sexual fantasy.
So he'd go easy on him.
For the most part.
Chuuya shrugged off his jacket and threw off his gloves, popping off the top of the bottle and pouring the lube onto his fingers. He made sure it was warm before pressing his fingers to Dazai’s hole.
Seeing as they hadn't been together in some time, he'd need dedicated preparation. Chuuya slid his fingers into him slow enough not to shock him, crooking them up into his prostate as soon they were in, wanting to make sure Dazai felt good.
The other made a preening noise, leaning into the feeling.
“Shit, I missed that.”
Chuuya bit the inside of his cheek, his fangs snagging on the muscle.
He kept his movements slow, eyes hungrily wandering down to where Dazai surrounded him. Fuck, he was hard.
He spread his fingers inside of Dazai, stretching him out as best he could. Dazai moaned openly, fisting the sheets beneath him.
The detective angled his head to the right then, maintaining his gaze on Chuuya (who was still staring down at his own handiwork with flushed skin and a nearly broken resolve) through his heavy lashes, “Feel like trying your teeth out on me?”
That broke Chuuya out of his trance, fingers still slipping over Dazai’s prostate when he looked up, eyes instead settling on the man's clavicle and disappointingly unmarked neck.
He’d be lying if he said he didn't.
Chuuya pushed himself up the bed, allowing himself better access to Dazai’s clear neck, and consequently sliding his fingers to place even more pressure on the other’s prostate from the angle. Dazai whined pathetically, his face twisting with pleasure and his cock leaking pre onto his stomach.
The redhead chuckled, “That worked up, huh?”
The other breathed shakily, “Like I said. Haven’t even been able to jerk off in weeks, unless I felt like having an audience.”
Chuuya just barely restrained himself from laughing at how absurdly needy his ex-partner was, though he couldn’t hide the way his breath wavered over Dazai’s neck before he latched his mouth to it, kissing the flesh and grazing his teeth over it. Another shaky breath left the man beneath him.
It wasn’t even a question that Dazai was going to get off on Chuuya biting him, as proven by their previous encounters, but Chuuya found himself a bit reluctant to follow through. Dazai was still recovering from broken bones and bullet wounds, courtesy of none other than himself. Causing him any more harm, no matter how badly he’d beg for it (well…maybe not no matter, Chuuya wasn’t willing to give himself that much credit, if Dazai was going to beg, hell he might just—) left a bitter taste in the mafioso’s mouth.
His indecision must have been apparent.
“Chuuya,” Dazai whined, a hand wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to get him to keep fingering him (though he hadn’t even realized he had stopped).
As it seemed, he’d actually completely frozen with his teeth stuck over Dazai’s throat, which was a bit of an awkward position to be in.
“Please,” he sighed, moving Chuuya’s wrist futilely.
By God, he felt just about ready to sink his teeth into the fucker and replace his fingers with something else. When the hell did Dazai start saying please?
Instead, though, he picked his head up from Dazai’s neck, making sure to still offer him the mercy of continuing to move his hand slowly
“I can’t.”
Dazai sighed, clearly annoyed by Chuuya’s reluctance to be rough with him, “When did you get so soft.”
He had mumbled it under his breath, full of salt.
“When you broke your leg and I shot you.”
He sighed again, louder, much more obnoxiously, “Chuuya’s at least going to fuck me, isn’t he?”
Chuuya couldn’t bring himself to be rough with Dazai, sure, but not even a divine being or the devil himself would be able to stop the man from getting his dick wet right then. Absolutely nothing would be able to.
Weeks of nothing but his hand.
Weeks.
He slid his fingers out of Dazai then, unzipping his pants in record time and popping open the bottle of lube just as frantically. He could feel himself throbbing already.
He didn’t even bother to warm the damned thing, just coating his dick in it before wiping the last of it on Dazai’s ass and lining himself up. The other gave a small gasp and that was it, he thrust himself into Dazai with his hand over his mouth and his eyes shut, basking in the feeling of finally, finally, finally having the absolutely, downright insatiable man back with him.
It felt like heaven itself, surrounded by the warmth of another body and blessed by the resulting cries of pleasure from the detective.
And shit, he’d gotten himself hooked, hadn’t he?
Hooked on something very, very bad for him.
He thrust into Dazai shallowly, still holding himself back from causing the other any harm (that going for internal tearing as well), his hands gripping the sheets tightly. He hated it. He always had his hands somewhere else on Dazai’s body, doing something else to drive the man past whatever sanity remained with him, but he couldn’t trust himself not to hurt him if he did have his hands somewhere else.
Somewhere else like his hips, his waist, his cock, his (pretty damn sensitive) nipples…anywhere, anywhere else than the fucking bedspread.
Chuuya closed his eyes, willing his mind to calm itself.
He reckoned it was worse for him than any liquor, any drug, or any other vice.
He reckoned Dazai was worse for him than any liquor, any drug, or any other vice.
Because what was he supposed to do now, reliant on such a terrible man?
He pulled out as far as he could without leaving Dazai completely, then drove himself back into the other harshly, a meek noise leaving his throat. Fuck, that felt good.
Then he did it again, building up another slow rhythm yet not doing it for Dazai’s sake, much more caught up in savoring every second he got to be inside that wretched man, caught up in keeping himself from finishing right then and there.
Shit. He didn’t think he’d survive having just his hand for even just a couple of days anymore.
“Dazai,” he whispered into his palm, muting his call for the other as best he could.
The detective, however, didn’t bother to hide the state he was in, whining Chuuya’s name loud enough Chuuya was beginning to worry the neighbors could hear.
It was almost definitely the most pathetic either of them had ever been, rutting into each other desperately and crying out the other’s name like it was their damned honeymoon.
Chuuya’s cries were building in volume gradually, his grip on the sheets turning his knuckles white. Everything felt like too much, and he was on his last thread.
Dazai was no better, head shoved into the pillows and his walls convulsing at random. He had looked like he was about to cum since they had started. He probably had been.
And in a sudden bout of genius, Chuuya let go of the sheets and secured his hands over Dazai’s waist, trailing his fingertips over the other’s flesh fervently before picking him up and pushing himself into a sitting position, recreating the scene that started the night, with Dazai on his lap and him below him.
“Shit,” Chuuya breathed.
He had tried to pull his hand from Dazai then, not wanting to leave bruises, but the effort was just as helpless as he was to the way Dazai immediately began to ride him, leaving him a panting mess.
“Shit,” Dazai echoed, looking down at Chuuya’s face and brushing his sweat-stuck bangs out of his eyes, his hands lingering on his face for a beat too long.
Chuuya didn’t care to move away from it, though, just staring up at Dazai with a confused reverence, his brows furrowed yet his eyes full of something he didn’t have a name for, though a thought did accompany it.
A scary thought.
What if it isn’t just sex?
He tried to shake it.
“Bite me,” Dazai asked (told).
“No,” Chuuya shook his head, breathing still wild with each drop and grind of Dazai’s hips.
“Please,” Dazai whined, craning his neck to the side. “Please do it.”
“Do you always have to be such a horny bastard?” Chuuya complained.
“Yes. Bite me and I’ll shut up,” he persuaded, motioning to his neck.
And maybe it was because Dazai did beg, or maybe it was because he was seconds away from cumming, or maybe it was that infuriatingly unshakeable thought he had, but Chuuya decided that he’d do it.
Pulling Dazai down to him by the hair, he sank his fake teeth into his neck, breaking the skin and sending twin droplets of blood down his pale, unbandaged neck. Dazai clenched around him, choking on a whine as he came, the hand on Chuuya’s face trembling with the force of it.
Chuuya stood no chance of continuing after that, biting down harder and letting the metallic taste of Dazai’s blood fill his mouth as he finished, hips jolting into the swell of his ass as he did.
His vision blanked when he came, and the last thing he saw before he came harder than he had in months was how ridiculously handsome Dazai looked.
He didn’t exactly know what to do with that.
So instead, he just stayed there. He rode out the last of his high and watched his handsome ex-partner ride out the last of his, caressing his sides absentmindedly. Dazai didn’t seem eager to move either, sinking into his hold and shutting his eyes.
He felt heavier after the incentive of an orgasm had worn off, and Chuuya brought them both to lay on the sheets instead, breathing heavily.
It was different from how they usually did it.
Honestly, every time they met like this was beginning to feel different from what was normal for them.
In the beginning, they were finding themselves wrapped up in their complicated resentments for each other, and somewhere along the way slipped into each other’s beds, each session ending in a rushed departure and a lonely ensuing night, but…
Maybe, five, six, weeks before more recent events, the tune started to change? Chuuya wasn’t sure. He just knew they started to see each other more than before, and that it was starting to feel less like hate sex and more like, sex, sex? And then after that, they started to actually hang around each other after fucking so…
Yeah. This was different.
And he didn’t know what to do with that.
But whatever it meant, and whatever he was eventually going to do with it, he was happy just to be able to lay in bed with Dazai and play with his hair while he rested for now.
He just hoped he’d wake up and he’d still be there.