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Like any other day. Same old routine. Same old routes. Same old people. Same old smile, even as fake as it was. Could life get better for me? Could it work out for me? Can I breath? Just once? One... two... three... just how many more.... will make it better. Four.... five... six... .... just once more...another one won't hurt... just-- "Dazai! Open the door or I'm breaking it down!" Fuck-- "Ju-just..... fuck.... just a minute!"He stumbles to his feet, voice breaking before he masked it. He unrolled his sleeves back down. He ran towards the door, almost face planting twice on the way. Unlocking it and opening the door reveals his dear friend. Yet again disturbing one more of his content times. "Fuck finally! What took so long." The raven haired enters the apartment like she owned it. She turns around reveling in the twitch the brunet gives her. "Damn you look like shit." "Well.... I wouldn't if you had let me shower... instead of trying to break my door." The brunet scoffs. Rolling his eyes he slams the front door shut. "What do you want now, Yosano?" "Come on, Dazai dont be like that. I just wanted to see your pretty face that's all." She claps her hands infront of her, wearing an innocent expression. He gives her a deadpan look. She sighs loudly. "I.... need your help.... pretty please.... with a cherry on top." Her eyes become wide and doe like, sparkling. "Ok..... and?" He says scratching the back of his head. "Better be something good." "Yepieee!" She squeaks happily, hands clapping in front of her. "So you know about the recent project my club got..... you know about getting a report/scoop of some sort on daily problematic happenings?" The brunet flops down on the small couch, way to exhausted. She also takes a seat next to him. "So I kinda like decided to go with crime. You know..... and I found some interesting information... about a small.... transaction..... of illegal weapons." "Last time I checked.... I was the suicidal one... but..... so you want your to be authentic.... huh?" He asks rather calmly, irritation fading away. "You know me so well." She chirps. Arms reaching out to almost hug him but she stops mid way seeing the flinch he gives. Yes right.... No physical contact..... "So.... I was hoping you'd come with me... help me.... I just need a few pictures and all...." batting her eye at him in an innocent gesture. "Lunch for a week..... then I'll help." He says with a grin and a tilt of his head. "I am putting my life in danger for you.... so it's pretty fair." She let's out a happy noise. "Yes! Done. I'll see you at 2:00 tomorrow, at the docks.... dont be late." She slightly yells, jumping up and down then she's out the door like she never came in the first place. Dazai's body sags in the couch, letting out a sharp breath. He gets up, walking back to his room, discarding his clothes he enters the bathroom, which looked like a crime scene, the area around the sink was bloodied. His own blood. He eyes the razor, laying on the counter, innocently as if nothing happened. He grabs the razor, trying to pick up where he left off but couldn't bring himself to, so he just tucked it away in the small cabinet on the side, under all his bandages... for next time. He gets in the shower, thoroughly cleaning up everything. Once he finds his work satisfying enough he walks out. Not bothering to put bandages, he just throws on a shirt, falling face first in his bed. He knew he couldn't sleep, but he could pretend... make his head believe that yes he slept enough.... Guess not.... 2:08, his watch read. Guess not bad. "Why am I not surprised." Yosano comments, suddenly appearing like a ghost behind him. He would punch her if she wasn't a girl. Oh wait.... gender equality right. So he does punches her, across the arm.... a bit hard goes unsaid. "Ouch." He gives her a big smile. "So..... where to now?" She just stares at him for a moment. "Hey.... is it just me or is your shirt falling off your frame more than usual." She tilts her head considering. "Are you insulting my fashion sense." He says, hand held to his chest in a dramatic gesture. "Its what they call baggy and I quite rock it." He says with a proud expression. He wore a grey oversized shirt, with baggy trousers. "Yea.... I still don't understand why people wear this.... it makes them look homeless." She remarks. "Anyway, let's go, hurry up." A few minutes later they end up behind a huge container. Some people wearing black suits were on the other side. Sleek black cars were parked around. Looks like Mafia... A man was leaning on one of the cars, parked closest, watching the transaction but not part taking in it. He wore a suit, dark grey in color. His hair was a brilliant shade of red, half of it draped over his shoulder. He looked bored. A cigarette in hand. 'He doesn't look like a lackey.... must be one of the buyers.' A man, bald. He looked like the dealer. He was showing off the merchandise. His smile was creepy and disgusting. A women in dark glasses, she was mostly asking the question and likely giving the go. A man with grey hair stood with her. Not speaking but his gaze was fixed on the merchandise. Where the teenagers were standing, they could see, but not hear what was going on. Yosano had the camera in hand, snapping pictures. But soon she decided that it was not enough she needed to record. "This won't do.... the faces are not clear and not even the things being displayed. No, no, no." She grumbled. "I need to go closer... somehow." "Really, Yos? How exactly?" He says with narrowed eyes. "And and I'm sure you took a 'few pictures' am I wrong?" "Come on, we're too close..... I can't back out now. You stay here." She slowly start to step closer, running to hide behind the crates, stashed with goods, likely. He tries stopping her, warning her..... but before he could speak, the strip of her bag gets caught up in the metal crate. She freaked out, thinking someone grabbed it, panicking she made the whole stash fall. All eyes were on her. The brunet quickly got back, slamming his mouth shut with his hands, back hitting the container wall, sliding down, till he was sat down. 'no, no, no......what do I do now........... I need to get her out of there.' His mind whirls around. His legs widened a little, his shoe hitting something. The raven head gets dragged to the dealer. She felt her legs stop working. She was gonna die. That's it.... guns were pointed at her. Her eyes wide in fear. "What's a mouse like you doing here." The dealer says in a creepy voice. Hand coming to grab her hair. Her clip falling down to the ground. "Is this how discreet your dealings are? Found by a mere civilian?" The woman in dark glasses asked, her voice bitter. The dealers eyes darkened. "I'll get rid of her, you'll have nothing to worry about." He forced the muzzle of his gun to ttheraven haired forehead. Dazai could hear his own heart beat in his head. His ears were ringing. A gun.... He cant save her with it. How can he take on so many people. He doesn't even know how to use one. His body moves on impulse, not making a sound. While everyone was busy with his friend he used the chance to his benefit. Yosano's body was trembling, her breathing was uneven. A gun pressed to her head. Her life flashed in front of her eyes. She could see herself lying in her own pool of blood. 'I just hope he escaped.' She thinks, pursuing her lips, getting ready. "Drop your gun! Right now!" All heads turned to the source. A brunet boy stood with a gun.... pressed to the redhead's head. The one leaning on the car. Dazai gripped his shoulder tightly with one hand while the other held the gun. "YOU IDIOT!" Yosano screamed. Her ears ringing. Huh? How? The redhead frowned. How did he not notice someone coming up behind him. Not until the gun was pressed to the side of his head. An assassin? But his hands are shaking... is he that girl's accomplice? He noticed the woman raising her gun, aiming at the brunet. He looke at her in a silent order. Back down. He wanted to see where it was going. He was interested. It's not so boring after all. "Unhand her now!" He yelled. The woman wearing the dark glasses, grabbed the bald mans hand, making the gun fall to the ground. Releasing the girl. Yosano ran to her friend, getting behind her. "What the hell are you doing. You do realize you could have saved yourself. Now we're both dead." She whispers. "Get the car." That's all he answered with. The raven head runs to the drivers driver's seat getting in, buckling up, she started the car. Keys already inside. The brunet followed, he pushed the redhead in the back seat, getting in himself. Keeping the gun up all times. They quickly drove off. "Your a fucking idiot!" The raven haired yelled, eyes focused on the road ahead. "What's your plan now huh?" "Will you shut up!" He exclaims dramatically, sagging in the seat. The redhead sat quietly just observing the scenery outside the window. This unnerved the brunet more. "I'd rather have a double suicide with a pretty woman not you." He crosses his arms over his chest. "Um...." he addressed the redhead. "I'm sorry for dragging you into it..... but... " he looks at the gun. "You've never used a gun before have you?" The redhead asked. "Also.... the safety is on so.... it was a total gamble." He moves his hand to grab the brunets thin wrist softly over the sleeve, making the other flinch, trying to pull back, but it was gripped tightly, albeit not roughly. Dazai's breath gets caught in his throat. The mobster flicks the safety off. "There you go. Now you can shoot." He gives a fucking smirk, letting go of the others wrist. His fingers lingering a bit longer on his arm. "Are you serious? We are currently threatening your life. Mister." Yosano groans dramatically, maneuvering the car around a abandoned warehouse. "What now genius?" The redhead gets out the car, making Yosano panic. "H-Hey who said you could get out!" She yells. Hands tightening on the steering wheel, ready to run him over. Dazai gets out of the car as well. "Get back in Dazai!" Both ignore her, walking a bit far from the car. Dazai keeps the gun up. Hands still trembling. "Wh-where are you going?" "Don't worry you can take the car and get out of here. Though do discard it on the way." The mobster reply casually. "But you'll-" "I wont follow you. No one will. Rest assured." He smiles again. The brunet wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. He lowered his gun. "Who are you exactly?" "Call me Chuuya." Dazai just nods, going back to the car, he gets in the passenger seat. "Let's go." "What? What about him?" "Just go!" She slams on the race, leaving the stranger behind. "We're both gonna die."
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"Are you sure about what you're doing?" Yosano asked, her voice shaky. Her appearance was disheveled, fear evident in her eyes.They stood by the riverbank, having driven far out to dispose of the car, which now rested at the bottom of the murky waters, sinking into its watery grave. "Getting rid of it was necessary," Dazai replied, slightly out of breath. "Dumping it in the river is a better solution than burning it down, don't you think?" He glanced at her with a half-smile. "You took your pictures, right? Let's get out of here." Yosano hesitated, her hand instinctively reaching for her bag… only to realize it wasn’t there. "I left it... in the car," she mumbled, her face blank. "The whole bag, actually." Both of them stood frozen, staring at each other in disbelief. After a beat of silence, Dazai's expression remained deadpan. "Looks like the fish are about to have an underwater photo session." "Dazai Osamu... huh?" The redhead muttered softly, his eyes scanning the scattered documents and photographs littered across his desk. Pictures of a brunet and a raven-haired girl, both alone and with others, were strewn about. "That's everything my men gathered," the bald dealer said, his voice trembling as sweat beaded on his brow. "They're just civilians, not part of any syndicate. So rest assured, no harm will come." "No harm?" Chuuya's voice was soft, almost lazy, as he leaned back in his chair. "And yet, mere civilians knew about such an important exchange. I wonder how." His tone held a quiet menace. The dealer's face paled. "S-sir! We've served the mafia for years! No mistakes have ever been made by my end. The boss himself has praised my work—""The boss?" Chuuya cut in, tilting his head in mock curiosity. "Perhaps I should consider him in this matter as well."Relief washed over the dealer's face, his desperate smile a poor attempt at confidence. But it was fleeting. "But what's this?" Chuuya mused, his expression darkening. "The boss says your services were commendable... but it's time you stepped down."The dealer's eyes widened in shock, but before he could speak, his head was severed cleanly. Behind him stood two figures—one with a bloodstained dagger in hand, the other expressionless. "No witnesses," Chuuya said quietly, his voice cold. One of the subordinates, a woman, broke the silence. "Are you sure you should keep your succession and the death of the old boss a secret?"Chuuya rose from his chair, his steps measured as he approached the floor-to-ceiling window. He paused, staring out at the city skyline. "In due time," he murmured, his gaze distant. "I’ll judge their loyalty first." Both subordinates knelt in unison. "Sire," they said together. Chuuya's eyes remained fixed on the blue sky above, a sinister grin spreading across his face. "It's about time I pay a visit to my pretty little abductor." His voice dropped to a near-whisper, dark amusement dripping from every word as he whistled softly. "Dazai..." "Alright class, please hand out your assignments at the front as you leave." The professor says monotonously. Class coming to an end. Rustling of papers and creaking of chairs entailed the eagerness of students to leave the hellish room. The brunet face plants on the desk out of exhaustion. The raven head sat next to him. Her eyes glued to her phone. Scrolling through meaningless notifications. "So.... how was your night?" She asks. "Fuck you, Yosano...." the brunet grumbles. "I mean if your offering-" "Finish that sentence and I'll murder you before they can." He glares at her. He actually looked like shit. The bags under his eyes were really prominent, his already pale skin paler. "I couldn't sleep even a wink last night." "Honestly me too.... my eyes never left my front door.... I seriously slept with a kitchen knife last night." She says quietly, her voice breaking. "What do you think gonna happen to us now." Dazai mumbled something incoherent. Leaning back up he got up from his seat, submitting his assignment, he walked out the class, Yosano following behind. "Hey! Dazai!" A voice called out from behind, causing the brunet to quicken his pace, leaving Yosano perplexed. Still, it didn’t take long for the owner of the voice to catch up. "Ah, Liam... I totally didn’t notice you," Dazai quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Yosano rolled her eyes as Liam, an American with a broad grin, laughed, his tone shifting into something annoyingly affectionate. "I’ve been looking all over for you… Oh, hey, Yosano! Damn, you two are hard to track down." He chuckled, throwing a playful wink that made Dazai mentally cringe. "Anyway," Liam continued, barely giving Dazai time to respond, "how've you been? Looking gorgeous as always." He winked again, this time squarely at Dazai. Before Dazai could react, Liam pulled out two sleek envelopes and handed them over. "I'm throwing a birthday party this Saturday. You both better be there." His attention lingered a moment longer on the brunet before he finally walked off with a swagger. Yosano let out a snort, nudging Dazai with a smirk. "Doesn’t seem like he’s gonna give up until he gets you into his bed… Why is it that the hottest guys are always chasing after you?"Dazai chuckled, tossing the envelope in his bag. "Well, not everyone can be as stunningly gifted as I am," he said in a mock diva-like tone, breaking into laughter. Yosano rolled her eyes playfully but then gasped, suddenly panicked. "Crap! My club meeting! I’ll catch you later!" She bolted off, waving frantically, leaving Dazai standing there, shaking his head in amusement. Reaching his rundown apartment, Dazai fumbled for his keys, but before he could open the door, his hand froze. Someone’s been inside. Or worse, they’re still here. Why? Who? His heart raced, each beat echoing in his ears as his hands trembled. He unlocked the door, slipping in silently. A pair of shoes—neatly lined up—and a coat hanging on the rack—the rack he never once used. The intruder was still here. How considerate. The air felt thick, suffocating, a dark aura lingering in the space. Dazai’s chest tightened. He knew who it was—or at least, he thought he did. Moving cautiously, he entered the living room. There, lounging on the couch like he owned the place, sat a figure that should never be there. Not even in a million years. Dazai’s heart nearly stopped. “Why...” he whispered. “About time you showed up,” Chuuya grinned, all teeth. Dazai stood frozen, like prey caught in headlights. Raising a cup, Chuuya gestured lazily toward the kitchen—if you could even call it that—before smirking back at Dazai. “I got tired of waiting, so I helped myself. Hope you don’t mind.” He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving Dazai’s. “Have a seat. It’s your own house. Come sit.” Dazai’s body moved on its own, collapsing into the armchair opposite Chuuya, who had sprawled out across the small couch like it was made for him. “You said... you wouldn’t follow us.” “I didn’t follow,” Chuuya said evenly, swirling the liquid in his cup. “I just came to say hi. You’ve piqued my interest, Dazai.” His gaze swept over the brunet, taking in every detail, noticing the barely concealed trembling. Dazai said nothing, eyes glued to the floor, hands clutching his bag strap so tightly his knuckles were white. It was pointless to ask how Chuuya knew his name—he was sitting in his apartment. What else could he say? The silence between them stretched on, louder than any noise could’ve been. “What do you want?” Dazai finally managed, voice hesitant. “If you wanted to kill us, you would’ve done it by now.” “I don’t,” Chuuya replied, his tone casual. “But some people do.” He set down his empty cup and leaned back, lazily scanning the room with judgmental eyes. “Let’s make a deal, Dazai.” Dazai winced inwardly at the look. He *knew* his apartment wasn’t great, but it was the best he could afford. At least it was *honestly* earned. Not that Chuuya, a criminal, would care. But he stayed silent, swallowing the indignation. “Who?” Dazai stammered slightly. “What deal?” “The stunt you pulled,” Chuuya said, standing up smoothly, making Dazai jump up from his seat instinctively. “It’s caught the attention of people you don’t want to meet.” He approached, standing just inches from Dazai, his presence looming. His hand reached out, stopping just shy of Dazai’s cheek, hovering as if testing his reaction. When Dazai flinched, Chuuya’s eyes gleamed with sadistic amusement. “You wouldn’t want to ruin your friend’s dreams, now would you?” Chuuya’s fingers brushed lightly against Dazai’s hair, tucking a loose strand behind his ear. The touch was feather-light, but the tension between them was suffocating. Dazai tensed, every fiber of his being resisting the urge to recoil. Chuuya’s eyes darkened, pleased at the reaction, though he refrained from touching more—for now. “I’ll contact you soon,” Chuuya said, voice soft but threatening. “Don’t run. I’ll find you.” His gaze flicked down to Dazai’s trembling hands, lingering as if tempted to hold them. But he didn’t. Instead, with a final look, Chuuya turned and left, the suffocating weight of his presence lingering long after he was gone. In the deafening silence that followed, Dazai’s knees gave out, collapsing onto the floor. “Yosano... I’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice shaking. Then, without warning, his stomach churned violently. He leaned over, throwing up onto the floor, head spinning as nausea overwhelmed him. It felt like the world was out to get him.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The next morning was a blur of exhaustion and anxiety. Dazai had barely slept, his mind replaying every detail of yesterday. The mobsters voice, the weight of his presence, the way he had casually toyed with Dazai’s fear—it all lingered like a stain he couldn’t shake off. Dazai dragged himself through his morning routine, spending a bit more time staring at himself in the mirror, hands still trembling slightly as he buttoned his shirt. He wasn’t sure how he’d manage to go about the day like nothing had happened, but there wasn’t much of a choice. He had work to do, and staying locked up in the apartment wasn’t an option. He left, locking the door behind him, though it felt pointless now. He didn’t see Yosano today. Either she hadn’t come, or maybe he just didn’t have the will to check on her, to face his fears. His day passed like a dull, endless loop, mechanical and cold. His body moved through the motions on autopilot, but his mind was a storm. His skin itched, his chest heavy with the weight of unrelenting anxiety. He wanted to claw at himself, to dig into his chest and rip out the pounding heart that refused to calm. "Thanks for coming by." He smiles at the customer as they leave. His shift was close to an end. Just half an hour more, then he'll have to leave for the store. What a great life. His rent was already overdue. If not for the kind landlady, he'd be out on the streets by now. The jiggling of the entrance bell pulled him out of his thoughts, seeing his friend softened his gaze.
"You wouldn't want to ruin your friend's dreams, now would you?"
He wanted to bash her head in the wall. "You look like hell." She commented, a smirk evident on her face. "Did you pull another all-nighter again?" "Something like that, dear. What can I get for you?" He forces a smile, eye twitching. "I'll take an iced tea..." her eyes scanned over the menu. After ordering she looked up at the boy. "We were thinking about going shopping for Saturday. Would you be interested?" "I have to go to the store.... My shift. So no." He says nonchalantly, the response engraved in his memory. He might have a charming, social personality, but not when his social battery was dead. No he couldn't even bear the presence of one more individual than his own self. "Oh... that's fine." He felt guilt seeing the spark die in her eyes. But who was he if not someone that shut others out completely. Yosano grabs her order, turning around. "I'll see you tomorrow." The next minutes went completely unnoticed. If he packed a sugared coffee to a diabetic person and put cow milk in a lactose intolerant person's drink.... then what can he do.... mistakes get made... even by geniuses. Two days went by quietly. He avoided Yosano like plague. She didn't needed to know. She already had a lot on her plate. No unusual contacts were made either. Maybe the mobster forgot his existance. That'll be a miracle... and miracles don't happen in his life.Throwing his bag on his shoulder, he left his apartment. Stepping outside the apartment complex, his eyes turned blank seeing a man dressed in black over all, standing close to a sleek black car, eyes zeroed in on him. Great just great. The man opened the back door. "Get in. Mr. Nakahara requests an audience." He says his voice gruff. He could run away, make noise. It could lead to either him dead.... not the worst case scenario, or the others who come to help being dead. So he just got in without a word. Funny how your parents always tell you to never get in a strangers car... his parents never said such a thing. The man got in the drivers seat. The car drove off in the heavy traffic, but still cutting through it like a bullet..... a bullet... yeah... "Y-you want what!" Dazai's hands slammed against the expensive, dark wooden table, his eyes burning with an unfamiliar heat. Red tinged his irises, and his cheeks felt like they might be glowing too, though he chalked it up to pure anger. Yeah, it was definitely just anger. Nothing else. "Hey, relax. It's not that big of a deal." Chuuya leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes slowly raking over Dazai's form. He barely contained his amusement at the brunette's fiery reaction. "Like I said before... I've taken quite a liking to you." "I'm not going to sell my body to you like some fucking slut! I don't care who you are!" Dazai's voice rose in pitch, nearly a yell. His whole body was tense, hot-his cheeks only growing redder. He pulled away from the table, clutching his bag like it was a lifeline, legs trembling under the pressure of emotions he refused to acknowledge. "Just kill me already."
Stupid brain. Stop making me feel like this.
"That so?" Chuuya tilted his head, resting his cheek on his palm. His expression darkened, but he kept his tone light. "Fine. I'm sure that black-haired friend of yours would be more interested in what I'm offering... And for the record, I never said you had to sell your body, lovely. I just asked for dates. You and your friend? I'll make sure you're both safe... and I'll pay you well." His grin widened, enjoying how Dazai's reaction shifted from pure outrage to confusion."Keep her out of it..." Dazai's voice wavered, much quieter now."Do you agree then?" Chuuya leaned forward, his eyes glinting expectantly.Dazai bit his lip, torn. "I... I don't know. I can't make this decision on the spot." His words were a frustrated mumble, eyes darting tothe floor as if it could save him from this predicament. Chuuya rose slowly from his chair, his presence suddenly overwhelming. "I need an answer....Yes, or no."Dazai gulped, his feet taking a step back as Chuuya closed the distance between them. The redhead was just inches away, towering over him. His hand hovered near Dazai'sbody, not quite touching but close enough to make his skin tingle with anticipation."Can I touch you?" Chuuya asked, his voice unusually soft, yet the air between them was thick with tension. Dazai couldn't find his voice to respond, frozen in place. The redhead, taking silence as consent, moved closer, his hand sliding to Dazai's waist and pulling him close. His touch was deceptively gentle, teasing."I was going to keep this simpleuntil you gave in," Chuuya murmured, voice low and seductive. "But now... I'm tempted. You've put ideas in my head." His fingers trailed lower, circling around Dazai's thigh, inching slowly, dangerously close. "N-no! Wait!" Dazai's panic hit him all at once, his body trembling. "Please, wait. It's not what you think."Chuuya's hand slid between his legs, gripping him firmly, making Dazai gasp. "Oh..." Chuuya's eyes darkened, his voice taking on a more sinister edge. "Anywhere specific you don't want me to touch? Answer carefully.""I-I... my chest," Dazai stammered, his voice small. "Just don't touch my chest... please." It wasn't what he wanted to say, but Chuuya's tone had effectively silenced the rest of his objections. "Good," Chuuya muttered, his voicebetraying no emotion. He releasedDazai's waist and stepped back, giving him space, but his commanding presence lingered. He returned to his chair, sitting back with a calm authority. "Strip from the waist down... and don't makeme repeat myself." His voice was stern, leaving no room for disobedience. Dazai's hands shook as he undid hispants, pulling them down along with his underwear. His heart pounded as Chuuya's eyes watched every movement. The weight of his gaze made Dazai feel exposed,vulnerable. He hesitated at his bandages, hoping the mobster wouldn't make him take those off too.But Chuuya said nothing about thebandages. "Come here." The brunette obeyed, approaching slowly until he stood just inchesfrom Chuuya. "Turn around and siton my lap." Chuuya spread his legs lazily, tapping his thigh. Dazai hesitated, his whole body tensing as he bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. After a long moment, he finally complied, settling into Chuuya's lap. Large,sturdy hands encircled his waist, pulling him back until his spine was flush against Chuuya's firm chest. "Good boy," Chuuya praised, hislips brushing Dazai's ear. He nibbled gently, sending a shiver down Dazai's spine. "Spread your legs."Dazai didn't know why he was being so obedient, but his body moved before his mind could catch up. His legs parted, and he felt Chuuya's gloved hand grip his thigh, pulling them apart further. A gloved finger brushed against his folds, barely touching, teasing. "You're wet." Chuuya's breath was warm against Dazai's ear, his voice dropping to a deep, sultry whisper. "Don't be embarrassed... I like it wet." The finger circled around his entrance but never fully breached.The teasing was maddening, frustrating. Dazai's body betrayed him, a small whine slipping from his lips.Chuuya chuckled darkly. "I'll make you feel good... really good... but not tonight." He retracted his fingers, his gloved hands now resting on Dazai's trembling waist. When Dazai's breathing calmed, Chuuya pressed a soft kiss to his neck, over the bandages. "Were you hurt?"Dazai's lips pressed into a thin line. He wanted to answer, wanted to spill everything, but he couldn't. Not yet. Chuuya sighed softly, sensing his reluctance. "Fine. I'll drop the question... for now. But-" he smirked, his voice turning playful again, "do you accept my proposal?" Dazai's heart raced, and before he knew it, he was nodding."Tomorrow at seven in the evening. Be ready. I'll pick you up."Dazai found his legs, shaky but functional, as he got up from Chuuya's lap. "You'll have to accept my conditions as well," he muttered while pulling his clothes back on.Chuuya nodded thoughtfully. "Whatever you say, lovely. As long as they don't clash with mine." "Hirotsu will drive you back." As if on cue, tge old man entered the office, silently escorting Dazai out. Once alone, Chuuya leaned back in his chair, a wicked smile tugging at his lips as he brought his hand to his mouth, licking the remnants of Dazai's taste from his gloved fingers. "Sweet..." He chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous hunger. "I want to devour him whole." Later, standing under the warm spray of the shower, Dazai's mind raced. How could he let a stranger toy with him like that? His fingers found their way between his legs, riding out the lingering high as his thoughts drifted back to that stupid mobster. It was all Chuuya's fault that he was like this, trembling, panting.As the water washed over him, clearing away the evidence, one final thought struck him. It looks like I have a sugar daddy now... How convenient.
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The next day went in a blur. Dazai could hardly comprehend anything. His body moved on autopilot. Classes. Assignments. Presentations. He did these all in pure muscle memory. But inevitably he got cornered by Yosano. Great. "Why are you avoiding me. Dazai." She demanded. If anything Dazai Osamu was great at pretending. "Aw.... nothing much. I was just tryna save your lunch money. But if you so insist let's go...... I'm starving." He gives her a big grin, hands clasping behind his back. She looks him up, eyes narrowing. "Do you ever take anything seriously?" "Ofcourse I do..... like back there when I saved your ass from being blown by a gun, darling." His voiced was laced with hidden sarcasm. Since when did he become caring... "Don't....... don't remind me that...." the raven haired grimaced. "I'm trying to live my best till I die or am killed... asshole" she huffs loudly. He grins at her, both walking towards the cafeteria. "Hey, I heard some rumours fly around." Dazai started. "Mind confirming them." The brunette asks, finger tapping his lips in a thinking gesture. Yosano, tilts her head curiously, urging him to go on. "You know about, that pretty ginger asking you out. Linda was it?" He states knowing how she would react and that's what he wanted. "Who....." her eyes turn blank as her voice breaks a little. "What the hell, Dazai." She almost howls. Pursing her lips, she take in a sharp breath through her nose. "Is that a blush I see?" Dazai mocks. "I'm.... not hungry anymore." She says in a defeated voice. She slams a few bills in his chest. "Buy whatever you want." Then she storms away, her expression hurt. Look he's not a saint..... far from it. He felt bad ok. But it's for her own good. She needs to stay away today. Later that day. The brunette was sprawled across his bed, room a total mess. He stared at the ceiling, then at the time, then at the ceiling again. It was close to five, two hours before his inevitable doom. "He's a mobster right, maybe he'll forget, or be late."
'What if he shows up on the door and I'm not ready yet, he'll blow off my brain.'
'Not the worst case scenario.'
'Damn it! FOCUS!'
He sits up finally. Looking around, he grimaces. "I seriously should not have procrastinated on laundry."
'what should I wear, I don't have anything.... it's a date, what if Chuuya take you to somewhere expensive.... he is going to be my Sugar Daddy.'
'Maybe I can ask Yosano to lend me some cloth.......es'
'You made her fucking mad remember, she's gonna kick your ass.'
'What am I even gonna tell her.... that I have a date? With who?'
'Oh fuck my life, why cant I just die...'
The brunette finally decides to dig in his closet, opting for a lose black sweatshirt, which just materialized out of nothing and light brown cargo pants. (Stolen from Yosano.) He throws his outfit on the bed, rummaging through his drawers, he decides on panties that night..... well its better to be prepared, unlike last time. Dragging himself to the bathroom he hardly ignores the presence of his dear cabinet holding his beloved razor. It could wait. Thoroughly washing up he mummifies himself. 'Chuuya didn't mind the bandages before, so I hope he still doesn't.'
'Or maybe he'll demand I take them off, then after seeing what's under, he will decide that I'm not worth keeping alive...'
After a whole of internal and external struggles, finally gets ready. He still had eighteen minutes. Well more internal monologues then. Footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. The cheap wood crackling under overly expensive leather. They stopped infront of a specific apartment. Glove clad hand raising to gently knock on the door. Just after three knocks the door burst open revealing a brunette, his eyes were cautious, his expression worried and alarmed otherwise it was ok. His prized possession. He can let himself enjoy treats once in a while. Raising the red roses in his hand towards his new fascination his gives a stubble bow. "Good evening." -knock- -knock- The devil stood outside his door, it must be him. There really no turning back. Taking a deep breath, the brunette opens the door. "Good evening." Says a low voice, making his whole body shudder. A bouquet of red roses in his hand. He gives them to the brunette. "Y-you too..." what else can he say? The fucking mobster was eyeing him up like a predator. Damn did he had to wear a fucking suit. Damn all rich and hot guys. He takes the flower. Really flowers? Nonetheless he puts them on the counter next to the front door. "Thanks..." "You look beautiful." Chuuya comments, his voice was low and heavy. The redhead moved his hand to take the brunette's in his, but is left hanging in mid air when the brunette pulled his hand behind his back. "Let's go." Chuuya opts for instead. Dazai walks out his apartment finally, locking his door behind, he waits for the redhead to walk but when he doesn't, he himself strides towards the stair case, with the other following behind him. Descending, he finds a sleek maroon car parked in front. It looked absolutely ridiculous in such a cheap neighbourhood, as if everything around it was taunting it. Even riches cant fit in everywhere. Chuuya walked around to the car, exuding a gentlemanly air as he opened the passenger door for his date. He watched as Dazai paused, lost in his thoughts for a moment, before taking the hint and sliding into the seat. Big mistake. The seat was so plush he could practically melt into it. He felt his body relaxing against his will, but he snapped himself out of it. He's threatening you, Osamu! FOCUS! Chuuya rounded the car and got in the driver's seat, the engine roaring to life as they sped into the busy night. The car hummed smoothly, cutting through the wind like a blade. "You look good too," Dazai mumbled, attempting some small talk.
Really? Was that the best you could muster?
Chuuya smirked, not missing a beat. "Getting a compliment from a beauty like you? I’m honored." He whistled, his tone smug. Beauty my ass. Dazai bit back the retort, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Wait till I scratch that pretty face, asshole.Of course, he ignored the slight blush creeping up his cheeks. "How was your day?" Chuuya asked, eyes focused on the road. His arms flexed effortlessly as he turned the wheel, every movement fluid, as though the car were an extension of his body. "As always," Dazai responded vaguely, not wanting to dig into the topic. His mind was elsewhere, preoccupied with... other concerns. "Do you have any food allergies?" Chuuya asked casually. "Hm?" "I’d look pretty bad if I took you somewhere fancy and you had an allergic reaction, you know." "Oh... no, not really. At least, not that I’m aware of." The car came to a stop outside an upscale French restaurant. It looked like the kind of place that was way out of Dazai’s league—a place where even the name was impossible to pronounce for a broke university student like him. Chuuya parked the car and got out. Meanwhile, Dazai was deep in one of his internal monologues, forgetting to move until the passenger door opened. Chuuya stood there, hand extended to help him out, but true to form, Dazai ignored it, climbing out on his own and fisting his hands in the hem of his oversized sweatshirt. It's ok. He can be patient. It wont be long before the pretty brunette begs for his hold. He can wait. "You can read it over. Sign at the bottom, and the deal will be sealed." Chuuya flashed a toothy smile, his hands clasped on the table between them. They sat in a private room of an upscale French restaurant. Dazai was grateful for the privacy, though the unfamiliar, sophisticated atmosphere only amplified how out of place he felt.
And French food? Really?
"Do I have to sign today, or... can I get more time?" he asked hesitantly, flipping through the contract’s two pages. "You have until the end of our evening." "O-ok..." Dazai’s eyes scanned the text, glossing over the terms and conditions. They weren’t overly invasive, but the schedule changes would definitely mess with his classes. He hesitated. "I... I have a bit of an issue with... physical touch... I mean—"
What am I even rambling about? He literally expects me to serve him sexually!
Chuuya leaned in, his gaze softening slightly as he gently but firmly took hold of Dazai’s hand with his gloved one. His fingers slid over Dazai’s, intertwining them. "I could tell. You won’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with," he said, his tone calm yet possessive. "Will the gloves be a bother too?" Dazai felt a flicker of relief at the cool barrier between their skin. "I... I'll manage." He quickly pulled his hand back, pretending to busy himself with the contract again. "There's a bit of a conflict... with my classes." His eyes flicked up to meet Chuuya's, but the redhead’s expression remained unchanged. "Never mind. I’ll make myself available," Dazai muttered, accepting his fate. He gripped the pen, hand trembling slightly, and signed the paper, sealing his own future with a single stroke. Setting the pen down felt like laying the final brick in a wall around himself. Chuuya's grin widened, predatory but pleased. "Let’s have dinner then, shall we?" He took a sip of his expensive wine just as the waitress entered with their menus. Several wine bottles already adorned the table when they arrived—clearly, Chuuya enjoyed a good vintage, having poured two glasses already. Dazai glanced at the menu. It felt like reading a documentary in another language, so he randomly picked the one dish he could recognize—it had something to do with crab. Meanwhile, Chuuya ordered with a flawless French accent, making Dazai feel even more out of place. Soon, their food arrived. It looked good, but Dazai's first bite immediately had him choking, his throat seizing up. He turned his head, coughing violently into his hand. Fucking embarrassing. But before he could drown in shame, Chuuya was suddenly at his side, kneeling with one hand braced on the table, carefully not touching him. "Hey, slow down. Are you okay?" His voice was softer than Dazai had expected."Y-yeah..." Dazai wheezed between coughs, his throat burning. Great. Just when I was supposed to be enjoying good food, my body betrays me. Without a word, Chuuya poured him a glass of water and handed it over. "Here." Dazai gulped it down, his breath shaky. "Sorry for the trouble... I just have a sensitive stomach." He tried to offer a smile, but it fell flat. Seeing someone like Chuuya—this mobster—kneeling beside him, actually concerned... it wasn’t something he was used to. Hell, he wasn’t used to anyone being concerned about him, mobster or not. Chuuya stood, straightening up as he scanned the room for the waitress. "I’ll keep that in mind for next time. Let me reorder something for you." Before he could call anyone over, Dazai quickly reached out, grabbing Chuuya's hand. "It's fine. I don’t think I’ll be able to stomach anything right now," he croaked, his throat still raw from coughing. Chuuya paused, not saying a word. Dazai’s heart skipped a beat as he realized he was still holding the other man's hand. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, yanking his hand back in panic. But Chuuya’s grip tightened, holding him in place. A slow, knowing smile crept across Chuuya's lips. "Looks like you’ll learn," he teased, his voice playful but edged with something more. Dazai's face flushed, heat rising to his cheeks. The rest of the night went over normally, well as normal as it could. Chuuya insisted on having at least desert. So yeah he did and it was heavenly. They drove back, Chuuya dropped him off to his apartment and even walked him back. Guess mobster could be gentlemen. "I'll see you soon, lovely." Chuuya said as he bought the others hand to his face, pressing a kiss to the back if his hand. A gesture he was dying to do. "Y-yeah." Dazai stammered, voice not betraying the blush on his pale cheeks. Honestly it didn't felt bad. Kinda nice. When did he become a cliche. With that the redhead left. Just a ghost of him lingered. Shutting the door, dazai strode to his room, falling face first in his bed. He felt giddy. Well Chuuya is handsome. He won't deny it.
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-Thud-
“Owwww…” Why did this always happen to him? Nightmares were better than dreaming about his landlady..... breathing fire. The stupid dream had woken him up—falling to the ground and hitting his head against the nightstand. A relentless knocking came from his door. It was six in the morning, for crying out loud! Rushing to the door, he was met with the usual sight—his landlady, Ms. Youko, her expression as terrifying as ever, like she’d drain his blood dry. “Ms. Youko…?”
Oh, crap, my rent! How could I forget about it?
“Please, can you give me a few more days? I promise I’ll pay it soon,” the brunette pleaded in a panic. “Ya’ rent? It’s paid. That’s why I’m here. Got this for ya.” She shoved a box of muffins into his hands. “For actually paying on time for once.” “Paid?” He barely processed the word before the box was thrust into his arms. Before he could respond, she had already moved on, banging on the next door down. Sure, Ms. Youko wasn’t the worst for someone in their fifties, but there was always that underlying fear that she might turn into a vampire if pushed too far. He closed the door, but barely had time to think before more knocking echoed through the hallway.
I knew it was a fluke...
Without looking, he opened the door. “Please, just give me until the end of the we.....ek. Who?” “Delivery for Dazai Osamu…” said a young boy holding a paper bag, his forehead was sweating. “I didn’t order anyth—” The bag was shoved into his arms. “It’s pre-paid, no worries!” the boy said quickly before practically running away as if he’d just delivered a pizza to a haunted house. Weird. What was his deal? Dazai turned, closing the door again. The bag smelled sweet—pastries and coffee? Was this someone else's order, he just received? His gaze shifted to the shoe stand by the door where red flowers bouquet sat. Ah, right. Last night did happen.He carried the bag into the kitchen, placing it on the counter. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He hadn’t even changed yet. Pulling out the phone, he saw an unknown number calling. “Hello?” he answered, putting it on speaker as if itll blow up if he put it next to his ear. “Hey, beautiful. Good morning,” a familiar voice purred. “Chuuya? How did you…? Never mind. Morning…” “Did you get your breakfast? I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I picked my favorites,” Chuuya’s tone was unusually soft. “I felt bad that you couldn’t enjoy our dinner last night.”
Well, you did make me sign a contract right away…
“I had dessert, though,” Dazai pouted. “Thanks for the breakfast, but you didn’t have to.” Chuuya chuckled, sending a shiver down Dazai’s spine. “It was my pleasure. I’ll see you at lunch?” “But we just… yesterday…” Dazai muttered, glancing at his phone. noticing a transaction listed under his name. “I’ll pick you up from university,” Chuuya decided. “Wear something nice for me, lovely.” Dazai flushed. “O-Okay. See you at lunch.” He hung up, cheeks warm from all the sweet talk. Keep it together, Osamu! He scrolled through his notifications, but found nothing interesting, so he tossed the phone aside and opened the bag. The aroma was heavenly. It would be hard to say no to coffee. Today was going to be one hell of a day… weird, but not bad.Later, he spotted Yosano near the university lockers. Her body language was stiff, and she slammed the locker door shut when he approached her before glaring at him. She knew he was there. “Hi, sweetheart,” he began with a smile. She glared hardened. “You really are something, you know that?” “Aww, you know you love me, Akiko,” he said, voice playful. “I’m still mad, but I’ll forgive you on one condition.” “You can’t stay mad at me—I’m your best friend!” he exclaimed dramatically. “You’re coming to the party this Saturday. That’s the condition.” “No.” “Yes. Non-negotiable.” “Why?” “...” “Ugh, fine.” “That's my bestie,” she said with a grin, her irritation melting away. He did decide to go with something cute today. As much as he could, without feeling too weirded out. Just a hoodie with cutout shoulders, a high neck sweatshirt underneath, and just some loose jeans. He always opted for loose clothes so his body figure won't show too much, but it still caught attention. It was rounding the end of October, getting a bit chilly and his body temperature already ran colder. So it wouldn't look to weird if he wore something warm. It was just lunch... the mobster couldn't possibly take him to a high class restaurant like last night could he. What did Chuuta even see in him. He couldn't even stand to look himself in the mirror. It made him sick. Everytime he looked at his reflection he saw a pair of bloodshot eyes, hollow, looking right back at him, staring into his soul..... it scared him that someone else could see through the cracks, even if that someone was he himself..... find out that he's just an empty shell, imitating to be something, trying to mingle in something that he's not..... a human being... Buuttt..........., before the intetnal monologue could continue, he saw a sleek black car pull over near the entrance. That must be Chuuya, like who else would it be. But he still remained still for the sake of keeping face. He'll look stupid if he ran to it and it happens to be someone non mobster...... Embarrassing. Clutching his books tightly he walked out the gate. Yes the car did in fact belonged to the redhead. Chuuya got out of the car, approaching the brunette. He bowed down a little, holding his hand up. Dazai understood the gesture but was still hesitant. He slowly raised his hand up the redheads, who bought it closer to his face, pressing a kiss to his knuckle. He felt his ears burn...... yeah...... only his ears nothing else. "Your red, lovely." "Shut up." He probably shouldn't say that to the mob but that fucking grin said otherwise. He thinks Chuuya enjoys this. "Let's go then." Chuuya turned to the passenger door, opening in, motioning for the brunette to get it. Once both were seated, Chuuya ran his gaze over the other, leaning back in his seat, he smirked. "You look beautiful." He suddenly felt hot. Like his insides will burst. His cheeks were nearly red by now. Just why? Why was he being so effected? Since when did hot guys became his type. "Y-you look good too." He complements back, earning a chuckle from the other. So he turns to actually look at the other. Scanning him. Chuuya's attire though still formal was close to casual. He wore a red turtle neck, paired with a black blazer and black pants. A silver chain hung around his neck. His red hair, loose and draped over one shoulder. Why did he had to look so good..... "Thanks sweetheart." Chuuya smiled softly this time. "Anywhere you wanna go?" "I...... you asked me on lunch...... did you not decide?" "I have a place in mind..... just wanted to know if you wanted to go anywhere specific." "No....... I dont even know of many places...... I mean I don't usually go...... anywhere." The brunette cringed at his own reply. Ofcorse the mobster knew. He's a broke ass student. "No worries." The redhead reassured. "I was thinking about the new cafe that opened around here. Then we can go for shopping. I need a few things." "Hmm." He was just tagging along without his consent anyway so it didn't really mattered. When the redhead said he wanted a few things he seriously needed to specify for who...... because his brain was not prepared. His skin itches..... he wanted to itch so bad. Now, he found himself in the dressing room of a high-end boutique, trying on different outfits while Chuuya lounged comfortably on the plush couch with a glass of wine in hand. Dazai stood awkwardly in front of him, wearing high-waisted trousers and a blouse that—he had to admit—was pretty comfortable, but still far outside his usual style. He wanted to scratch his skin. He wasn’t a doll to be dressed up at Chuuya’s whim, but he didn’t have the guts to voice it. Chuuya’s eyes roved over him, a smirk playing at his lips. “You look amazing,” he said, his tone low and teasing. Dazai resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I look ridiculous.” “You’re beautiful,” Chuuya corrected, leaning back in his seat. “Just let me spoil you a little, yeah?” Dazai sighed. He wasn’t sure how he got into this mess, but for now, he had no choice but to play along. Lunch had gone by smoothly enough. The restaurant Chuuya chose was quiet and intimate, with a calm ambiance that made conversation unnecessary. They barely talked during the meal, mostly because Chuuya seemed far more interested in watching Dazai than eating. His gaze lingered on the brunette, dark eyes scanning him with an intensity that made Dazai shift uncomfortably in his seat. Chuuya still managed to eat more than Dazai, who picked at his food absentmindedly. When Dazai finally put down his fork, having eaten much less than expected, Chuuya shot him a questioning glance. In his defense, Dazai had already had breakfast that morning, and his appetite wasn’t much to begin with. He gave a small shrug in response, hoping Chuuya wouldn’t press the issue. He didn't. Afterwards they went to the mall. Where he was currently being molested. The weirdest part about the shopping trip wasn’t that they were buying clothes—it was that everything Dazai even remotely glanced at ended up being purchased. It didn’t matter if Chuuya had his head turned or was seemingly engrossed in something else, the moment Dazai’s eyes lingered on an item, it was added to the growing pile. By the end of it, he had an entirely new wardrobe, some of the pieces bordering on exceptional—and others, well, compromising was an understatement. He felt strange about the whole situation. Sure, he had to look good for his “sugar daddy,” but it was hard to ignore how well the clothes suited him, even the more daring ones. And as much as he hated to admit it, they did look good on him. Of course, the fact that he was thoroughly ravished while trying on some of the outfits? That was something he planned to bury deep in the recesses of his mind. It simply "never happened." "Aren't you going to get something for yourself?" Dazai asked, his voice weary from trying on outfit after outfit. He was thoroughly exhausted.Chuuya flashed a smirk, clearly amused by Dazai's state. "I'm sure I got plenty for entertaining myself." He winked, causing Dazai to turn his head away in embarrassment. "But did you have something in mind?"They had wandered into the suits section, where Dazai's eyes were immediately drawn to a row of ridiculous hats. Chuuya, noticing his gaze, snatched one up and placed it on his head, flashing a toothy grin as he adjusted it slightly."How does it look?" Chuuya asked, full of confidence. "Stupid," Dazai deadpanned. "Hey!" Chuuya protested. "What? It looks stupid," Dazai repeated without hesitation. The redhead huffed in mock offense, then stepped closer, closing the distance between them. His hands slipped to Dazai's waist, pulling him in gently. "And now?" he asked in a low, teasing voice.Dazai let out an involuntary squeak. "I-Idiot!" His face flushed impossibly redder as he tugged the hat over Chuuya’s face in embarrassment. "We're in public!""Public, huh?" Chuuya chuckled, the sound low and full of mischief. The idea clearly amused him, but he decided to let Dazai off the hook, at least for now. The mobster laughed out loud, clearly enjoying Dazai's flustered reaction, though he kept whatever thoughts ran through his mind to himself for the time being. He was his after all. Dazai was slumped over his bed, arms covering his face. The redhead dropped him back home after dinner. He now had a fucking new wardrobe. Guess he'll go to the party on Saturday.
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Who would have thought that just Sunday night, he had been a broke student scraping by, and now his bank account was overflowing with money he'd never seen in his life—not all at once, at least. All it took were a few dates—twice a day at that—and suddenly, he had a wardrobe full of expensive clothes without spending a single yen and his account full of zeroes. It seemed like Chuuya was serious when he said he was interested in him. It wasn’t even about that kind of stuff—Chuuya kept his distance... well, mostly. Except for the occasional kisses on his hand or the way those gloved fingers would sometimes sneak to his waist, making his stomach twist in ways he didn’t want to admit. Nope, it was all highly professional. Yeah. Professional. Over the past few days, Chuuya had taken him out for lavish lunches and dinners, as though he was starved for company or something. A mafia boss.... touch starved? It was a nice change of pace, even if Dazai wasn’t sure what to say half the time. What could he ask? “So, how many people have you killed today?” or “Any exciting heists recently?” Yeah, no.Still, the silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was almost… comforting, in its own way. But just as Dazai was getting used to this absurd routine, a new problem arose—the party on Saturday. He’d promised Yosano he’d come, so backing out wasn’t an option. But that meant socializing. Normally, Dazai would thrive—he was a total social butterfly—but parties like these got wild. And dangerous. Especially with half the campus already throwing themselves at him. Why, he still didn’t know.Dazai had just gotten off a call with Chuuya, who, as always, had sent him breakfast from some ridiculously fancy bakery. Again. --Who was gonna tell chuuya that this lanky brunette hardly ate. Tch a total waste of money and good food--The redhead had asked if he’d eaten yet. Typical. Things he had to do to keep up appearances—what cruelty. Still, a promise was a promise. Atleast he could try out some new clothes now. Nothing beats a glass of wine after a successful raid. Chuuya leaned back into the plush couch of his penthouse, savoring the sweet tang of the drink. His gloves were still stained with blood, as was his white shirt, remnants of his latest session with traitors. He preferred to handle such matters personally—nothing sent a clearer message.Yet, even in this rare moment of relaxation, Chuuya’s mind wandered. To him. His perfect doll.It frustrated him, this obsession he couldn’t shake. That ethereal beauty was driving him mad. He wanted Dazai—wanted to be close to him, to touch him, to devour him. The thought alone made his blood run hot. He could imagine it all: those delicate thighs squeezing his head tight as he worked his tongue deeper, drawing out those sweet, desperate cries. But alas, that would have to wait. The doll was still skittish, and Chuuya didn’t want to scare him away. Not yet.Pulling out his phone, Chuuya connected to the CCTV feed in Dazai’s building—a little habit he’d developed. He watched as the brunette returned from his classes, standing in front of his door. A bouquet of flowers lay waiting on the doormat, hand-picked by Chuuya himself.But instead of smiling, Dazai picked up the bouquet and promptly tossed it into the trash bin.Chuuya sat upright, his jaw tightening as a sharp pang hit his chest.“What?” he muttered, disbelief giving way to irritation.It seemed his doll needed a lesson in manners. Chuuya downed the rest of his wine and stood, determination burning in his eyes.Guess he’d be paying Dazai a visit before dinner tonight. His new toy needed some discipline. One thing Dazai absolutely despised was getting anonymous flowers from some lovesick jerk on campus. Especially when they were left on his doorstep like some cliché love letter. Couldn’t they take a hint? He wasn’t interested. The unwanted gesture soured his mood, and with a dinner date with Chuuya looming, he needed a long shower to clear his head.Unlocking the door to his small apartment, he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes by the entrance. He tossed his bag onto the couch and made his way to his bedroom. After some rummaging through his closet, he found a soft lavender sweater—Chuuya had bought it for him during one of their shopping trips. It was impossibly soft and comforting. Pulling out a pair of briefs to go with it, he walked to the bathroom, eager to wash the day away. ●□●●□●Under the hot spray of the shower, Dazai tried to calm his racing thoughts. His gaze drifted to the cabinet near the sink where his supplies were stashed—bandages, ointment, and other tools. The temptation lingered like an uninvited guest, but he resisted. Not tonight. Chuuya had a sharp eye and a sharper nose; he didn’t want to deal with the complications of explaining fresh cuts.By the time he stepped out, wrapped his arms in neatly placed bandages, and slipped on the sweater, he felt a little more centered. The lavender fabric hugged his frame perfectly, the softness providing a strange sense of security. Just as he was finishing up, sharp, deliberate knocks echoed through the apartment.Dazai frowned, glancing at the clock. “Who could that be? Yosano?” he muttered, walking cautiously toward the door. “Please not her. I really can’t deal with that right now—I need to get ready for Chuuya.”Pulling the door open, he started speaking. “Look, Yos, I’m not in the mood to—”His words caught in his throat. It definitely wasn't his overbearing little rascal but an annoyingly handsome piece of work on a property he didn't belonged to, never in a billion years, but here he was. “C-Chuuya,” Dazai stammered, his eyes widening. “You’re... early. I thought I still had time.”The redhead stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his expression unreadable, but his sharp eyes pierced through Dazai like a blade. “I felt like coming early. Were you expecting someone else, lovely?” his voice was smooth.Dazai fidgeted with the hem of his sweater, suddenly feeling far too exposed. At least his bandages were covered. Shutting the door behind him, he tried to muster a casual tone. “No... no one. I just thought—um—would you like a drink?” His voice wavered, betraying his nerves.Chuuya’s lips curved into a small, almost menacing smirk. “Oh, I’d love a drink, but what I want can wait.”Dazai barely had time to react before Chuuya moved closer, backing him up against the closed door. The redhead caged him in, hands braced on either side of his waist, his piercing gaze pinning Dazai in place.“Is that how you treat gifts?” Chuuya murmured, his voice low and laced with danger. “Tossing them in the trash?”Dazai blinked, startled. “W-what? Wait, I didn’t know... You sent them?” His voice faltered as realization dawned. “I thought—”“You thought they were from some campus fool?” Chuuya interrupted, his gloved hand slipping to Dazai’s waist, fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns. Then absently commented “Did you just shower?”Dazai’s breath hitched as Chuuya’s hand dipped under the hem of his sweater, settling firmly on the curve of his waist. The redhead leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against Dazai’s ear.“Chuuya, wait—” Dazai began, panic rising as the other’s hand moved lower, teasing the waistband of his briefs.“Shh,” Chuuya soothed, his voice dark yet reassuring. “It’s okay, doll. Just relax.”Before Dazai could protest further, Chuuya’s fingers slipped past the fabric, finding the soft, sensitive heat between his thighs.“No! Please, wait—” Dazai’s hands flew to Chuuya’s chest, trembling as he tried to push him back. But his strength was no match for the redhead’s firm resolve.“Shh,” Chuuya whispered, his gloved fingers expertly parting Dazai’s folds. “Don't fight it.”Dazai’s protests faltered, a soft gasp escaping his lips as Chuuya’s fingers began to move, slow and deliberate. His mind reeled, his body betraying him as pleasure began to build, overriding his resistance.Chuuya murmured, his lips brushing against Dazai’s jaw. “Would you mind if I get dessert before dinner?" Dazai whimpered, his resolve crumbling as Chuuya’s hand worked him expertly, rubbing circles over Dazai's already sensitive clit, the texture of the glove adding to the sensation more. Chuuya’s gloved fingers moved with a practiced rhythm, stroking Dazai’s most sensitive spots with precision that left the brunette trembling. Slowly Chuuya's fingers moved lower, circling Dazai's entrance, making the brunette's head tilt back against the door as soft whimpers escaped his lips, each sound feeding the hunger in Chuuya’s predatory gaze.“So wet already, bet you tastes even divine!” Chuuya murmured, his free hand moving to grip Dazai’s hip, holding him in place. “ Don’t fight it, doll. Let me hear you.”Dazai’s body betrayed him completely, his knees threatening to give out as Chuuya’s touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through him. He tried to stifle his moans, biting down on his lip, but it was futile. A particularly sharp curl of Chuuya’s fingers had him crying out, his hands clawing at the redhead’s shoulders for balance. Why were those damn fingers feeling too much.“C-Chuuya, please,” Dazai gasped, his voice trembling. “I-I can’t—”“You can,” Chuuya growled softly, his lips ghosting over Dazai’s ear. “You will. Just let go for me, Lovely.”His gloved thumb brushed against Dazai’s sensitive bundle of nerves, and the brunette let out a choked sob of pleasure. His body was aflame, every nerve alight with sensation as Chuuya skillfully pushed him closer to the edge. Dazai's hand fisted, still next to his head, he had no idea why he didn't moved them and chuuya seemed to like this behaviour a lot,“Look at you,” Chuuya murmured, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. “So well behaved already. Keep those hands there pretty.”Dazai’s head spun, his chest heaving as he was forced closer to the edge. The redhead’s relentless pace had him teetering on the brink, his thoughts dissolving into a haze of pleasure and submission. Dazai bit his lips to try to stifle his moans, wasn't really helpful though.“Don't.” Chuuya warned, his tone firm but coaxing. “let he hear it." "C-Chuuya- hng- hah, st-stop." Dazai tried pleading but his body wasn't exactly cooperating. Chuuyas hand kept working, not stopping, keeping a steady pace. "Can I eat you?" Chuuya asked in a hushed whisper. Dazai clenched. It was an indicator enough, but- "N-no! No, please no, not that." Dazai's voice came into panic, trying to pull his body back, but no space to move back. Hands fisted but they still stayed. "Ah! Please!" He still couldn't pull back from the stimulation. The redhead's other hand moved to rub Dazai's waist soothingly, thumb rubbing circles. "Shhh, I won't, not yet, just let go, yeah?" Chuuya fingers fastened, making sure whatever panic that was growing got faded by just pure pleasure. "Show me how prettily you wet my hands." Dazai did, his knees growing weak, letting out a shuddering breath, head thrown back against the wall as he came hard, pussy convulsion on Chuuya's fingers, clenching hard as he socked the leather. Small moans kept falling from his lips, catching his breath. Chuuya's fingers kept moving, helping dazai ride out his high. Chuuya hands were the only things keeping the brunette up, otherwise his legs had already given out. The redheads grip didn't wavered, kept dazai upright and let him come down his high. It was really embarrassing, cumming just like that, so easily, like a horny teenager. Dazai buried his face in Chuuya's shoulder, the shame getting to him too much. "Can u stand Pretty?" Chuuya asked amused, Dazai gathering the courage pulled back and nodded weakly, eyes not meeting the redhead, Chuuya chuckled, then pulled his hand back. Chuuya did the next most logical thing, licked his hand fully, making dazai shudder more, letting our intelligible sounds. "Delicious. I'm gonna need the full course these days, the appetizers way too good. What do you say lovely?" Dazai wanted to hit him, hard, on his head, he didn't too, in his own head. You cant possibly hit a mafia boss and get away with it -- But definitely get away after holding a gun to his head-- anyway dazai didn't respond. Chuuya finally pulled back fully, adjusting Dazai's clothes slightly, then turned around striding to the living room like he owned the place, lazily plopped on the couch, posture relaxed. "Get ready baby, dinner's reservations in 15 minute." Chuuya was way too smug about it, way to smug.....