indensity | (no subject)

[This should feel disgusting, but it just feels like sex, Chuuya hot and tight as Dazai sinks in all the way. He wouldn’t say he likes the way Chuuya looks like this, but it is rather satisfying; he’s a responsive partner, and when has that ever been a bad thing? Er, except for the fact that it’s Chuuya.]

Finally? I take it you’re enjoying yourself now?

[Dazai doesn’t let him adjust, drawing back only to thrust in again with a roll of his hips. He does still need to get even for what Chuuya had done earlier, too, but for the moment, Dazai watches him, watches the way Chuuya’s hair falls and curls around his face.

No, a charming Chuuya would be awful. This is good enough.]

[He doesn't want or need time to adjust, he just wants to feel. The lube means the slide in and out is an easy one, even if he's still left feeling satisfyingly full, the movement knocking more moans out of him. Responsive is right - He never stood a chance at hiding his responses.]

Shut up and keep going.

[He knows he should deny it, but what's the point. He'll just have to distract Dazai from trying to make fun of him because of it. He leans up, nips at Dazai's jaw, then his throat, teeth sharp against skin.]

[Ah- Dazai swallows a noise, grits his teeth, bites the inside of his lip. He refuses to let Chuuya get to him, even as the movements of their bodies builds the heat under Dazai’s skin and in the pit of his stomach.]

Did I give you any indication of stopping?

[A hand goes between them; Dazai wraps long fingers around Chuuya’s cock, as though he’s going to help him out. Which is, of course, not the case; as soon as Chuuya gives any sign of being close, Dazai is going to make that very clear.]

[It won't take long. He'd been close earlier, when he'd stopped himself, and it's building up again fast. Part of him feels like he's been turned on since the last time they fucked, even though a cold shower and refusing to think about it had definitely fixed the problem for a while.

Until he'd decided to text Dazai again.]

You didn't. Feels good.

[He definitely shouldn't admit it. He's beyond thinking, though. He's close, hips pushing up to meet Dazai's thrusts, teeth slipping against Dazai's skin as he loses his ability to focus. There's a trembling in his limbs that give it away when he's right at the edge, like he'd still somehow been holding himself back before, and he can't now.]

[Oh, that’s rather honest. Dazai isn’t used to it, but he refuses — refuses — to find it any sort of endearing. No, he’s just here to get off, obviously, and to antagonize Chuuya. Why else would he be here?

He strokes with his hand a bit more, before stopping at the base of Chuuya’s cock, and wrapping his fingers around it in a circle. He can tell Chuuya will fall over the edge soon, and there’s still the matter of paying him back for earlier.]

Mmhm.

[Dazai’s own body is seeking the edge to tumble over, the crest of the wave, as he works his hips into Chuuya, curls closer to him. It shouldn’t feel this good to touch another person, particularly not this other person, but… well, unfortunately, Dazai is a man of physical desire at the end of the day.]

[That hand feels impossibly good, almost too good, because at this point he's so close it hurts. It's too much. He just wants to let go, tumble over that edge and finally get what he's owed. He's not even paying attention to his own words anymore, just letting them slip free.

Until those fingers tighten, and his eyes open wide with horror.]

Dazai--

[No. He better not be. He better fucking not be.]

Let go!

[It definitely comes out as a whine.]

[The grin Dazai gives Chuuya is perhaps a bit malevolent. Just a bit. Dazai knows he's got him, squeezing a little too tight as he continues to work his hips, fucking into Chuuya and chasing his own release.]

What was that? [Dazai's own voice is a little breathy at this point.] I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you.

[Is he an asshole? Yes. A sadist? Sometimes. When it comes to Chuuya, Dazai isn't one to hold back, after all--considering just how much of it Chuuya has learned to take.]

There must be something going on with your mouth. It wasn't working very well earlier, either.

I swear I’ll kill you.

[It’s an empty threat, but he can’t think of anything better when he can barely think. He reaches between them, and starts trying to pry Dazai’s hand off, finger by finger, hoping to force him to give up.

He hates that he loves the way Dazai is fucking him right now. He wants nothing more than to enjoy it, to melt into the bed as Dazai’s dick slides in and out, building into a burning kind of pleasure, spreading all throughout his limbs. He wants this so much. He wants exactly this, from Dazai, and he hates himself for wanting it.]

Let go. Come on. Come on, Dazai, I need this, I —

[They both know it's an empty threat, which only makes Dazai enjoy it more. I'll kill you? He can be more creative than that? ...then again, Dazai is also a bit lacking in the eloquence department while he's like this, focused on the rhythm and making it good. Not because he wants Chuuya to enjoy it, but because he wants the fact that Dazai is withholding release to hurt more.]

You need what?

[The sound of his voice is rough, and Dazai normally hates it, but right now he really doesn't care if Chuuya knows he's feeling good. Enjoying himself. Dazai's grip gets tighter when he feels Chuuya's fingers seeking to get him to let go--a familiar touch, probably better known to him than anyone else.

Which means nothing, of course.]

[The tightened grip hurts. He lets out a pained whine, but doesn't stop trying to get Dazai's fingers off. He's not sure if the pain makes him need to come more or not. Not that it matters, because the way Dazai is fucking him is too perfect, and he can't take it.]

You know.

[He'll use his other hand to hit Dazai's back, just to drive that point home.]

Let me come. Let me come. Dazai.

[He's terrified that Dazai will come and consider this finished. He has to convince him before that. He can't allow himself to beg, but --]

[Chuuya is good like this, and Dazai--for the moment--isn't going to pretend he's not. The blow to his back makes him huff out laugh; yes, he knows, but Chuuya had fucked up earlier, and this is the price for it.]

Why should I?

[Yes, if Dazai comes first, he's absolutely going to consider this finished. And he's close, knows his own body well enough that he can tell when he'll be able to finish. Chuuya has until then to convince him.]

[There's no time. Dazai could come at any second, and he'll definitely leave, and Chuuya will have no choice but to jerk himself off, and Dazai will know. Chuuya really needs this to happen right now. He stops trying to loosen Dazai's hand, a small sign of surrender, but he really hates himself for what he's about to do.

He's not even sure which option is the worst here.]

Because I need it. Dazai. Please.

[Just saying it is disgusting. There's no way he'll say it more than once. At least the tight grip Dazai has on his dick means he probably can't feel the way it throbs with humiliation.]

I'll -- I'll obey one order.

[An old deal between the two of them. Dazai knows he'll honor it.]

[Begging and a deal he can’t pass up? Chuuya really must be desperate, and Dazai eats it up, the most annoying smile on his face. Yes, he knows Chuuya will honor the deal, because he always does; they hate each other, fuck with each other endlessly, but there’s still some semblance of grudging trust, even if Dazai insists it’s misplaced.]

One order. I’ll decide later.

[He waits for Chuuya’s response, loosening his fingers just slightly, exhaling an almost-noise at the drag of his cock as it slides out right before he thrusts back in particularly rough. Either way, Dazai is going to come first.]

[Chuuya knows he'll regret this. He knows Dazai will come up with something to make Chuuya suffer. But it's too late now, because once he's said it he's not backing out.]

Yeah. One order. Come on.

[Let go, let go. That loosening of his fingers is promising - at least it doesn't hurt now - but it's not enough. He squirms under Dazai, waiting.]

[It’s a deal; Dazai loosens his hand yet again, but he doesn’t remove it. Nor does he offer Chuuya any assistance yet — instead, he focuses on himself, chasing the heat building and pooling and simmering under his skin. A hot-cold wash of feeling, shuddering and tensing limbs. Dazai bites down on his own lip, hard, and focuses.

Somehow, they keep forgetting to use condoms. Or maybe they’re just too impatient, too chaotic when they do this. When he comes, he fills Chuuya up, eyes closed, body taught. It feels good, so much better than the ruined orgasm of earlier; pulsing and spilling and ah, maybe a tiny noise does manage to worm its way out of him.

When he can, Dazai moved his hand — he strokes Chuuya’s cock, hot and wet and messy. Dazai knows it won’t take much; Chuuya is begging for it, after all.]

[He'll take that small noise as a minor victory, because he's going to need any points he can get after this. He has so severely lost this round, even with the ruined orgasm he gave Dazai earlier. He hates this so much.

Except that he doesn't. He loves feeling Dazai spilling inside of him. He loves being in this position, under him, and this time he's willingly shifting his hips without being told, pulling his legs up to let Dazai get as deep as possible, holding himself there. He needs it to be his turn soon, though. He's not even completely sure Dazai decided to take the deal, but he's hoping, desperately, so he won't have humiliated himself for nothing.

And when Dazai finally starts to stroke him off, it really doesn't take long at all. He stutters out Dazai's name in relief, and then swears, legs jerking as he comes hard. It feels so good. He'd been waiting for so long.]

[Chuuya always says Dazai's name far too much when they do things like this, and it's not something Dazai has called him out on, because it feels like a box he doesn't want to open. What's easier to point out is how obedient Chuuya is even without Dazai telling him--there are no directions, but Chuuya moves his body anyway, holding himself in place so Dazai can finish. In some kind of depraved way, it mirrors the way they always worked together back in the Mafia, and sometimes these days, too.

Again, that's something Dazai will not comment on.

When Chuuya comes, Dazai works him through it with his hand, and really, Chuuya finishes beautifully. Trembling and tense, his voice rough; not that Dazai would ever praise him for something like this. It's one of those private thoughts he keeps to himself and pretends never happened. And when Chuuya is done... Dazai will stroke him a little longer than necessary. Just because of earlier.]

[It feels good to have that last bit of pleasure wrung out of him. He deserves to enjoy it, when Dazai made him wait so long, and those last waves of his orgasm make him feel like he's melting into the bed.

When Dazai doesn't stop, he tries to gently take his wrist, signal that he's done. His legs are still trembling, Dazai might think he has more in him. When Dazai still keeps going, he squirms a little, tries to pull a bit more insistently, mirroring his earlier attempt at prying him off, even though he knows Dazai picked up on his signal right away.]

What are you doing.

[It takes him too long to actually realize. He has nothing left to give, and he's sensitive. What started out as pleasure is quickly turning into anything but, and he tries to jerk away, tries to slide out from under Dazai somehow, and shoves at Dazai when he can't. His next whine is definitely pained, followed by little gasping breaths.]

Stop!

[Perhaps Dazai should feel bad, but he doesn't. He never does, particularly when it comes to Chuuya. And yet somehow, this isn't the first time they've done this; if Chuuya truly hated it, then he wouldn't have invited Dazai to his apartment again, or put himself in the vulnerable position of leaving Dazai in control.]

Stop? But weren't you just begging for it?

[Dazai will continue just a little longer, enjoying--not enjoying--enjoying(?) the sounds Chuuya makes, the whine and the gasps and the way he tries desperately to move away from Dazai. And then he lets go, abruptly.]

Honestly, Chuuya. Sending such mixed signals. You're lucky I did this with you at all.

[Chuuya lets go of Dazai to press both hands over his face. It's embarrassing, but his expressions would be more embarrassing, and he refuses to let Dazai see him. He's going to kill him, he really is.

He keeps squirming harder, kicking uselessly against the bed, no control over his reactions. He bites the insides of his mouth, hoping the sharpness of that pain will distract him, hoping the sounds he makes won't get more humiliating than they already are.

And then Dazai stops.]

I hate you so much.

[He's going to keep hiding his face for a little longer, and then he's going to kick Dazai.]

[On anyone else, such a thing might be cute. Nothing about Chuuya is cute, so it's fine, and if there's a feeling in Dazai's chest, it's just smugness from having won. That's it! That's the only thing Dazai ever feels with Chuuya--that, and annoyance. Exasperation.

Dazai pulls out and rolls off before Chuuya can kick him properly, flopping down on the bed next to him. He watches out of the corner of his eye, satisfied that he's gained being allowed to give Chuuya an order (+1) and a good orgasm on top of that.]

You hate me, but you let me fuck you.

[Chuuya can still kick him from this position, throwing his legs out sideways, aiming for Dazai's hips. It doesn't have much strength behind it, though. He doesn't have much strength in his body, and he doesn't feel like putting in the effort for once.]

This is definitely the last time.

[He doubts it. Maybe if Dazai doesn't bring it up, he can manage not to bring it up, and they won't do it again. As long as neither of them get drunk at any point after this. He waits a few more moments, then removes his hands from his face, rolling onto his side to look at Dazai.]

You're not even that good.

[The kicking is pathetic, and they both know it. It’s a sign that Chuuya isn’t actually mad, that he’s sulking, signs Dazai knows well. Unfortunate as it is, he does know stupid, inconsequential things about his former partner.

Dazai snorts, stares at the ceiling before turning his head to look at Chuuya. He’s a mess, cheeks red and lips bitten. His hair is in disarray.]

Your sex life must really be abysmal, then, if I’m that bad and you let me do it again.

[It was easier when Dazai wasn't looking at him. He knows Dazai is reading him with that look, that he knows Chuuya well enough to guess what he's thinking right now. It shouldn't be enough to make him self-conscious, but this soon after sex he can't help it, not after everything they just did.

Dazai looks at him, so he looks away.]

I told you. You owed me.

[And he nearly ruined his chance at an orgasm this time, too. He had to bargain for it. He really isn't winning here.]

[Now, at the end of this, Dazai will admit it.]

I did owe you.

[Not that he’d necessarily been planning on paying Chuuya back, but he’s
known; he owed Chuuya an orgasm, and he got one. Transaction complete. Chuuya is looking away like he does when he’s embarrassed—something about him Dazai hates knowing—so Dazai keeps looking.]

And now, you owe me. Funny how that worked out.

[It would have been a better, more productive use of Chuuya’s time to just rub one out, or find another guy to fuck him. Instead, they’re somehow here again, sprawled in bed together, messy and just as petty as they always are.]