indensity | just bleeding out in the mouth of the devil

just bleeding out in the mouth of the devil

[cw: torture.]

[Chuuya keeps glancing over at Dazai. He can see him through a glass window, some distance away, looking down at him. It's difficult to make out his expression from here. It's difficult to focus on him, but he has to make sure Dazai is still there, that they're not trying to trick him somehow. He can't even tell what's going on with him. If he's okay.

And his attention is drawn away again a split second later. A white hot rod is shoved against his side, burning his skin, making him scream and scream. He'd tried not to, at first. Not because he didn't want to give them the satisfaction - he's been tortured before, he knew it was inevitable - but because Dazai is there, and he doesn't want him to see, doesn't want him to know. But he's far beyond that point now. He has a broken arm, several broken ribs, they've punched him enough, he's bleeding badly in several places, and now they're getting creative. They're having fun. And Chuuya is just taking it, holding himself still for them as they come up with something new. When they pull the rod away again, when he's able to breathe and think, at least for a second, he wonders if they might be stopping his bleeding with this new method. They can cause him pain and keep him alive longer, all with one technique.

He's trying to keep his mind going as a distraction against the pain. It's really not working.

He's on his back on the floor, naked, breathing hard as they allow him a few seconds' break. They probably don't want him passing out, and he's relieved, because he needs to be ready. There are tears of pain in his eyes as he looks up at Dazai again, making sure he's there, and looking for a sign, any sign. He can't act until Dazai lets him know it's time. Dazai will figure something out, he always does, but --

Chuuya really hopes it's soon.

But even if it's not, he'll stay right where he is and take it. Because he can't risk them following through on their threat to kill Dazai if he doesn't cooperate. And there's no way Chuuya would reach him in time to save him from here.]

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I promised I'd buy you a drink, right?

[Chuuya goes and finds two glasses, sets them on the coffee table, grabs an opened bottle of whiskey to hand to Dazai, and then disappears into the kitchen for that coffee. He's moving on autopilot now - find two mugs, make two cups of coffee in case Dazai wants one, too. At least his coffee maker is completely automatic, down to grinding the beans for him.

He rubs at the back of his neck while he waits, trying to shake the building tension. He definitely fucked up, didn't he?

Is Dazai going to forgive him for this?]

For the record, I'm not expecting anything from you.

[He sets one of the mugs down in front of Dazai, grabs the irish cream, realizes that he may have brought out too many things... He doesn't care. They can have two drinks each, or Chuuya can drink both cups of coffee.

He adds a generous amount of that irish cream to one, and starts drinking.]

[Chuuya did promise, and normally Dazai would make a fuss about that, but right now he truly doesn't care. He stands in Chuuya's apartment and waits, not really thinking about anything--in that dull, apathetic mood he falls into at times--holding the bottle of whiskey as Chuuya hands it to him. It's a kind he likes, too, which might be a coincidence, but also might not.

Then there's the hot coffee, steam curling from the dark liquid, and Dazai finally sits down on the couch, pouring himself a generous amount of whiskey rather than drinking straight from the bottle to be annoying like he usually would. He'll drink the whiskey first, the coffee second, eyes shifting to Chuuya as he adds in the irish cream.

He's been too silent. Dazai knows it's not like him, but it's hard to think of anything else to say when he keeps thinking about the wall at his back, Chuuya at his front, and what he'd said.]

If you're not expecting anything from me, why would you say anything?

[The first thing Dazai has properly said, and his voice is cool and impassive. He grips the glass in his hand too hard.]

[Chuuya doesn't answer right away. He's not looking at Dazai, instead focusing on his coffee, drinking deeply from it for several moments. He's not sure which one he needs to kick in first, the alcohol or the caffeine, but in either case he knows it won't be bad enough. He's tense, visibly so.]

To shut you up. And it worked.

[It's not a lie, but it's nowhere near the whole truth. It slipped out. Maybe he's not expecting anything, but he wants it, and right now he's focusing all his energy on changing that, like he can somehow kick these feelings out of his body and let things go back to normal between them.]

So you'd stop saying I should let you die. Now you know you can't change my mind.

[He's restless, sitting still. He's regretting that, too, wants to get up and start pacing, do something. The best way to deal with stress is through overwork.]

So as long as you promise to shut up about that, we can pretend this didn't happen.

[Did it work? Yes, and it's a fact Dazai hates. He hates that he hadn't expected it, that he'd let himself be open to an unexpected attack, which is exactly how he views it. An attack. He should have been watching out, but how was he supposed to know that Chuuya-

No, he's not going to entertain that idea. At least, not until he's had enough of this spiked coffee.]

If it was meant to shut me up, then why am I still talking?

[A petty comment, yeah; Dazai knows very well that Chuuya means in the moment, and he's still reeling from that kiss against the wall. Still feeling like he's failed whatever he set out to do when he left Chuuya behind for four years.

And then Chuuya says they can pretend this didn't happen, and Dazai stops mid-sip, mug held in front of him, and looks unblinking at Chuuya.]

...Is that it, then? You're trying to talk your way out of this? Like I'd forget?

[It really is a good offer, and Dazai should take it. He knows he should, but there's a stubbornness, an irritation that if Chuuya decided to take this path, he's going to have to live with that choice.]

[Dazai knows what Chuuya meant. Chuuya won't even bother to comment, because he's not in the mood for one of their meaningless arguments, even though at least that would make this more normal. He just doesn't have the energy, doesn't think he'd be able to hold back his frustration. He just shrugs, keep drinking.

It's not like he feels like he won any sort of victory by shutting him up.]

What's the alternative?

[For Dazai to hold this against him? Use it against him? For Chuuya to have to live with being mocked for it, when he knows it makes him an idiot? He could live with that if it means he didn't completely fuck everything up, but --

He doesn't know. He doesn't know what to do.]

You want to run with it instead?

[Maybe he's lost his mind, or maybe he's just desperate. Maybe he's trying to shut Dazai up again. He moves, spins around, throws one leg over both of Dazai's, straddling him. He knows this is the last thing Dazai wants him to do.]

Sure, Dazai, let's do this.

[He says it like a challenge, and tries to keep his real emotions off his face.]

[God, this is a mess. Dazai hates messes that aren't ones he himself creates; even worse if it's Chuuya. He wants to scrub his hands through his hair, to throw himself off the nearest high-rise, to stand up and leave and never come back. But he's done that before, and somehow doubts he'll get away with it again. Not when he has a place he needs to return to. This truly is a mess.

And it's all Chuuya's fault. What he says just compounds it, makes Dazai's gaze snap towards him--but Chuuya is quick, and there's a weight on Dazai's lap before he can move away. Maybe it's the exhaustion. Maybe not. Either way, it's not an ideal situation at all.]

I never said I want to run with it.

[Dazai hates how Chuuya says it like it's a challenge. Like it's not a big deal, like there could ever be anything between them. There can't. There shouldn't. Chuuya needs to know that; why doesn't he? Dazai moves a hand to push him off, but it stills at Chuuya's shoulder.]

I'm telling you to take responsibility for what you did. [His voice is too harsh, which makes it clear that this is bothering him.]

[Dazai's tone is surprising. He doesn't usually let emotions into his voice, and when he does, it's usually a lie, a trick... but this? This is new, and Chuuya isn't sure how to react to it.]

It's one more thing you can use against me. You should be happy.

[He should keep pushing. Actually, he definitely shouldn't, it's definitely going to backfire, but he wants to know what would happen. He would have expected Dazai to laugh in his face by now, and it's weird that he's not, and it's almost making him think that maybe...

No. Definitely not.]

You want me to apologize? We never apologize.

[His stomach is twisted painfully. He really wants to run away, maybe take a shower as an excuse and wait there until Dazai leaves, like some fucking coward. He really fucked this up, and he knows he's doing a shit job of hiding his own fear right now.]

It was a lie anyway. Just to shut you up.

[The idea of Chuuya apologizing is truly disgusting, and Dazai makes it known with the expression on his face, utter disdain. It's at least a far cry better than the dull, uncaring look he's had for most of their encounter.]

Did I ask you to apologize? You've always been the absolute best at pissing me off.

[He should let it drop. Accept Chuuya's excuse of a lie. But it's not true, and what has happened is going to crawl under Dazai's skin and eat away at him. It already is; he's been grappling with what went down for far too long, drinking himself stupid and then some. He really had meant to jump from that bridge, too.]

You're a shitty liar, Chuuya. The only times I've 'believed' you were meant to save you face.

[Should Dazai be happy? Maybe. He could use this against Chuuya, certainly. But that's only useful if it doesn't needle Dazai the way it does. It's messing him up, ruining the perfectly-crafted narrative he's made for himself. He can't stand it.]

[This is awful. Chuuya really does prefer that disdainful look to the uncaring one, even if he never believed Dazai doesn’t care. He knows him too well for that.

He hesitates. He’s barely listening to Dazai’s words now, aside from wincing slightly as Dazai calls him out for his lies. He knows that’s true, too, knows Dazai sees right through him, but he really hoped this could be one of those times where they could pretend. Maybe he just needs to let this cool off. Maybe it’s Chuuya’s turn to run.

He glances towards the bathroom. The door there locks.]

Well, I’m going to forget about it. If you want to get hung up on it, that’s your choice.

[Another lie, obviously. There’s no way Chuuya could forget about this. He starts to slide off Dazai’s lap again.]

It’s got nothing to do with you, anyway.

[Sitting here like this, with Dazai berating him, he’s starting to feel like he can’t breathe. But he tries to make his tone dismissive.]

[There's somehow the lingering warmth from Chuuya's kiss--or maybe that's the drink. Dazai can't forget it, and he hates that. What he hates even more is this sudden... what is it? Cowardice? Fear? Chuuya is trying to take back what he said and what he did, and while Dazai would have preferred this all to remain unsaid between them, he can't just let it go.

He grabs Chuuya's arm, grip too tight.]

Like hell it's got nothing to do with me. Are you listening to yourself?

[At least the frustration in Dazai's tone is something other than uncaring and impassive. It's something, but he honestly doesn't know which side of himself to show right now, and he hates that. Chuuya is always the best at ruining everything.]

Since when you do back out of a decision you made? Perhaps I underestimated you all these years.

[Chuuya stops when Dazai grabs him. He could easily pull free - he never does, but he could this time, just to prove a damn point. He's not sure what the point is, just that it would be a satisfying thing to do, or at least more satisfying than staying here listening to Dazai being an ass. He doesn't know what Dazai wants from him.

Dazai really is an expert at getting to him.]

I won't back out if you stop being a coward.

[There. That makes all of this Dazai's fault and Dazai's problem. Except that will never actually work, and he knows it.]

Either let go of my arm, or we're doing this.

[Not that he knows what the hell "this" is.]

[Dazai doesn't know what he wants from Chuuya. All he knows is that he's... no, he doesn't even know what he's supposed to be feeling. It's something foreign that he doesn't like, something like the way he'd felt when Chuuya was lying motionless and breathing faintly. Dazai wants to do what he usually does, wants to wreck everything in a self-destructive spiral, but it's hard when he's the one not letting Chuuya drop it.

He laughs, but it's flat. Dazai ought to let go of Chuuya's arm immediately; he should leave and yes, be a coward. Who cares if Chuuya wins this one argument?

Dazai does, obviously.]

We're doing this? And what, exactly, is this?

[He doesn't let go of Chuuya's arm.]

[Chuuya really has no idea how to answer that. He admitted he wants Dazai, but what exactly does that mean for people like them? What even can it mean, when they're technically enemies, when Dazai has chosen his side. What would Chuuya even want from him? Either way, he knows it's something Dazai wouldn't be willing to give.

He grips Dazai by the hair roughly, presses a hard kiss to his lips.

It's a cop out, a way to avoid answering, but it feels too good to do it again. He closes his eyes, parts his lips to deepen the kiss slightly, and doesn't pull back for several more moments. And then he lets that just hang between them like an answer. He knows it isn't one.]

What do you think?

[As though they haven't kissed countless times by now.]

[This is too many kisses from Chuuya in too short a span of time. It's a hard kiss, rough, but when Chuuya deepens it, Dazai doesn't pull back. The hand gripping his hair feels good, and if his own lips part just a bit, he's not going to say anything about it.

But Chuuya pulls back, and Dazai is left staring at him.]

I think you're avoiding the question. We've done that before.

[Dazai knows what Chuuya means. He's not stupid, but he hates the way his heart stammers in his chest, like this is the most terrifying thing he's experienced. Maybe it is. Closeness is the one thing that bothers him most, and he wants to pull back, wants to shove Chuuya off his lap--and at the same time, he remembers what Chuuya had looked like, cold and unresponsive. He can't.]

[Chuuya just wants to keep kissing. He wants to shut Dazai up, cut off this conversation, escape that way since Dazai wouldn't let him go. But it's not like Dazai will just forget. If he avoids it now, it will come back later, and he can't live with himself if he fucks this up. He has to fix it. Shit.

Of course he's avoiding the question.]

Yeah, well, I don't know.

[He rubs at the back of his neck, frustrated and lost, scared. He can't focus. His brain is jumping to each worst case scenario, and he just wants to press his body close.]

I won't let you die. I won't lose you. You don't get to just disappear.

[There's no way Dazai will agree to any of that, but it's really all Chuuya cares about.]

We're partners. Right?

[His voice sounds too unsteady.]

[When Chuuya says that—we’re partners—it does something unpleasant to Dazai’s chest. He wants to pull away, to leave and forget this ever happened even though he’d been the one refusing to let it go. But he’d expected a fight about it, not… this. Not Chuuya being painfully honest, and Dazai not knowing what to do about it.

They’re not partners. They were, once. But they’re not now, and that’s on the tip of his tongue, even as he stares at Chuuya, noting the unsteadiness of his voice, the way he’s clearly uncertain.]

Why do you care?

[He says it without looking away, not particularly wanting an answer. Dazai has never been good for Chuuya, has never been good to him, either. Why does it matter if he disappears?

It doesn’t. It shouldn’t. Dazai also shouldn’t be taking Chuuya’s opinion into consideration at all. There are a lot of things he ought to be doing that he isn’t, and that’s part of the problem.]

[Chuuya looks away. The more Dazai keeps pushing, the more vulnerable he's demanding Chuuya be, and he's not sure he's capable. He's risking too much here. It's already going to hurt too much if Dazai ends up saying no. And he's pretty damn sure that he will.]

Because I do, asshole.

[And it's unfair to ask him to explain more than that when Dazai won't even give him the slightest bit of crumb here. He's still not showing anything at all.]

So just laugh in my face if that's what you have planned. But quit dragging it out.

[Dazai doesn't get it. It's not just because he hates Chuuya--or tells himself he does; there's no reason for Chuuya to care. In fact, every interaction they've ever had in this fucked up relationship of theirs should be evidence for the opposite. Guarded, because he always is, Dazai stares at Chuuya.

He hates this. He doesn't want to talk about this, about any of it. He hates that Chuuya is picking and picking at something Dazai has never wanted to confront. Is he a coward? Maybe. Probably. Dazai has never cared what others think of him, though, and he already knows he is a reprehensible human being.

Quite honestly, Chuuya should just shut up.

He grabs the back of Chuuya's hair, too tight, and crashes their lips together. There's teeth, and Dazai is sure he tastes blood. Good. He's not talking about this. He'd rather die than talk about it.]

[Chuuya wasn't expecting the kiss at all. There's a grunt of pain, a slight flinch, but he doesn't resist, even as he feels his lip being cut open. It's a relief because it's something, and anything is better than talking like they had been. It's not like they were getting anywhere. And every word Dazai forced out of him had hurt.

So he kisses back, lips parted, tries to shove all other thoughts away. He's clinging to Dazai, gripping at his shirt tight enough to make it pull uncomfortably, but that's not Chuuya's problem. He presses into him as much as he can.

He still wants to run away. But maybe he won't. If Dazai will just let this go, pretend it didn't happen, then maybe everything can still be okay.

Chuuya will blame it on being overtired. People say stupid shit when they're overtired, right?]

[There are things they should talk about. And that means Dazai is definitely not going to talk about them, because that's what he does--instead, he shoves it all into the kiss, hoping the feeling will at least make thinking about things hard.

It... sort of works. Instead of thinking, he pulls Chuuya's hair, tastes blood between them, makes more of it. Chuuya deserves it, doesn't he? For stupidly almost dying. If he's really that keen on letting himself bleed, then Dazai will help. Isn't he terribly magnanimous?

He can't blame it on being overtired. He'll blame it on Chuuya. Everything is Chuuya's fault; this kiss, for one. He'd started it, hadn't he? Chased Dazai down, forced him to talk about things. Tried to pull a stupid stunt--Dazai's own--by threatening to let himself fall off the bridge. Idiot. Dazai hates him. ]

[Chuuya keeps groaning from the pain of the kiss. His lips are gonna be bruised black and blue where they’re not bleeding, and it feels like everything is bleeding, but he doesn’t care about that. Every word of this conversation has already been making him bleed.

He’s forgetting to breathe, lightheaded and tired, eyes closed now as he just holds on. Everything hurts. He’s barely hard, though he’s a little surprised his body has energy left to get it up at all.

And he’s still feeling too much. He goes from gripping Dazai’s clothes to tearing at them, at the bandages. He wants to bury himself inside his skin. Dazai shouldn’t get to protect himself with any barriers like this when he’s forced Chuuya to lay himself so bare.]

[Everything should be bleeding. Isn't that how it always is? As long as they've known each other, longer than they've known each other. Dazai doesn't care. He doesn't want to think about any of that.

Chuuya can do what he wants, within limits. Tearing at his clothes, that's fine. The bandages, even, Dazai won't complain about. Any inch he moves away from Chuuya's mouth is a chance for more words to come that are too honest, so Dazai just breathes into him instead. One of his hands grabs at Chuuya's clothes; they might as well take it all off, because they both know where this is going.]

[Chuuya gets some of Dazai's clothes out of the way, rips his bandages out of impatience, needing to feel skin against skin. Once he has Dazai's chest and shoulders uncovered, he slows down a little, strokes his fingers across the top of his spine like a reminder.

And he'll help Dazai with his own clothes, too. Sort of. He's just as reluctant to mvoe away, to stop kissing,, which makes it harder. In the end, he just rips his own shirt, too, and throws it aside. It feels better like this. This is the kind of need that's more acceptable. It's purely physical. They can throw the emotions from earlier away, at least from now. Maybe in the morning Chuuya will be allowed to pretend none of those confessions ever happened.

He slides forward in Dazai's lap, grinds down against him, to make sure.]

[Chuuya is always like this; once they start kissing, he doesn't want to stop. Sometimes, Dazai is in the mood for teasing, and other times, he simply doesn't want to bother. Right now is the latter. He won't fight the kissing, or the baring of skin, or the touching.

He will put his hands on Chuuya once that shirt is gone--he must really be desperate for something if he's ripping clothes he absolutely spent too much on. Whenever Dazai rips clothing, it's an issue, but here Chuuya is ruining it himself and acting as though it's fine. What an ass.

And speaking of asses...]

Pants.

[The way Chuuya grinds down makes Dazai break the kiss, voice low and demanding. He's not going to draw this out as they normally would, because it leaves too much room for words, and where would either of them be if they actually communicated in a healthy manner?]

[Of course it's okay when Chuuya does it. He doesn't have time to care right now, not when he can't get himself close enough, and when Dazai does it it's just to be a dick. Dazai does it, and then still takes his time, teases Chuuya for way too long, so clearly he could have waited for Chuuya to take his shirt off properly. And Dazai does it because he knows Chuuya will get pissed off.

This is about need. This is about skin against skin. Chuuya sighs when he feels Dazai's hands on him, like he's been waiting for it for way too long, desperation even in that small sound.

And he doesn't want to pull away, but Dazai has already broken the kiss, and need - and that tone - makes him obedient. He gets off Dazai's lap, just long enough to push his pants and underwear down and off, kicking it all away. Dazai can take that moment to get his own pants off, but Chuuya won't hesitate before climbing back on him so he can touch again.]

Lube's too far away.

[He doesn't care. He's just saying. Considering they fuck just about everywhere in his apartment, he really should start keeping it in more places, for convenience.]

Wouldn't want a lot anyway. It should hurt.

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just bleeding out in the mouth of the devil

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