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“Hurry up, you Princess!”
“That’s homophobic!”
Dazai abandoned all effort for any form of response, knowing his witty quips just wouldn’t be worth it.
Chuuya would be ready when he was ready. All Dazai could do was mope about it.
They were supposed to have a dinner reservation for 19:30- it was currently 19:10, and with the Friday-night traffic, they were going to have to break some laws to get there on time.
Oh, whatever. Nobody really cared when his partner had put in a £100 deposit on a table. It had been eight-years since he’d met Chuuya (thereabouts), so he’d been exposed to the land of luxury long enough to become immune to its effects- but even Dazai knew how absurd that was, and a younger part of himself was screaming.
In Chuuya’s defence, this wasn’t typical of him (his tardiness: the money-bonfires were very authentic to Chuuya). He wasn’t usually so late. Yes, he was a beauty guru whenever they had to step out of the house- but he always knew how long it would take and planned accordingly. Generally, both of their pruning routines were pretty similar, like their habits had synced up with each other in the time they’d lived under the same roof… But when it was dates over business dinners, Chuuya liked to bend the rules a little bit. Sure, Dazai appreciated the effort he took to look nice for him- but when he’d been tapping his foot impatiently at the front door for over thirty minutes, Chuuya had to pick a fucking hat and evacuate the premises before Dazai imploded and then exploded.
Azula was happily observing his annoyance from her place in the large cage across the room, tweeting something offensive that just made Dazai want to whine. So he did. “You tell him if you want to! But he’s being a little bitch.” He turned back towards the stairs. “Chuuya!”
“Give me a minute-!”
“You’ve had fifty percent of an hour! That’s two percent of your day wasted without my beautiful face!”
“I’ll manage.”
“You’ll also manage with a basic fedora- get your arse in the car now!”
“Give me a minute!”
Dazai huffed in genuine frustration, sarcastically rolling his eyes. He could feel Azula start to laugh at his expense- not that she ever really preferred Chuuya over him, but anything that made her owner want to metaphorically strangle himself had always been a blessing in her beady little black eyes.
“Should I call up and say we’ll be late, then?” He huffed towards the stairs.
“No, I told you, I’ll be ready soon!”
“Chuuya, it’s seven-ten; we’re going to be late!”
“Where was this urgency when we saw Rachel Summers at Palm Vaults?”
“You seriously need to get over that, Chuuya. She forgives you.”
“Well, I don’t forgive myself!”
“Eesh.” He cringed, checking the time once again on his new silver watch. However, as another complaint lit up on his tongue, the man of the hour spun around the bannister down the hall- that rich, obnoxious grin on his face as he strutted like a peacock.
Dazai wanted to scream at him that he wasn’t even wearing a hat in the end- but- Fuck. He was so cocky, Dazai couldn’t not try to hide his smile behind the bangs of his hair that weren’t pinned back. Chuuya knew the effect he had and always found an opportunity to exploit it. It was Dazai’s fault that he was still the biggest Chuuya-simp all these years later.
The short man wore his signature colours: black and red. A three piece suit: dark trousers and blazer, crimson shirt with a choker instead of a tie- but this time he had a grey waistcoat, patterned with red embroidery of roses. And, of course, the black gloves, something he’d never shaken.
Dazai honestly expected Chuuya’s style to change with the times as they grew together. And in some aspects it did, but generally, he always stuck with the suits. However Dazai was not complaining (the only thing that could top a suit adding shape to all of his partner’s muscles was leather shaping all of his partner’s muscles-).
“I thought we were late?” He twittered, daring to tread awfully close to Dazai, palming his suit as if there were creases- they both just used that gesture as an excuse to feel one another up because they were animals. Chuuya flicked his eyes towards Dazai’s scrutinising gaze before placing a quick kiss to his cheek. “You look great.”
“Yes. And it didn’t take me two centuries to- argh!”
With an overpowered tug and not even a shout of ‘goodbye’ to Azula, Chuuya opened the front door (shoes and coat already obtained upstairs because they were ‘those homosexuals’ now) and yanked Dazai down the front steps.
“Calm yourself, Tiny Man!”
“You said we were late?” But there was no innocence even attempting to mask his tone.
The sleek car had been prepared for them at the foot of the door before Ives’ protégé departed home for the weekend, so it wasn’t even a trek to their vehicle- yet, Chuuya had the incessant need to drag Dazai the whole-short-way.
After a string of complaints, they arrived at the passenger side of the Jaguar in a bit of a tumble, resulting in Dazai being pinned against the door as Chuuya toppled into his chest with a bubble of laughter.
“Chuuya-!” He’d logically be afraid of the state of his suit, but he knew that not even a speck of dust would be allowed on one of Chuuya’s ‘babies’. He just exclaimed because of how brutish his partner was being, and how late he was making them.
But the man didn’t respond, just looking up with a chuckle on his lips and the light of the hidden sun in his eyes, made brighter by the smoky under-eyeliner gracing his waterline. Chuuya just leant up, admiring the small plait of Dazai’s bangs pinned behind his ears by stroking it possessively with his thumb.
And whilst Dazai was definitely being driven into a much more loving kind of insanity, he had to glare lest he lose his batch of today’s dignity. “We’re going to be late.”
“You’ve mentioned.” Dazai felt a hand sneak under his blazer, curling around his side.
He knew he should have done that up.
“We’re going to lose our reservation.” He lied distantly, much more focussed on the warm circles being thumbed into his waist.
“We both know that’s not true.”
Slowly, he watched Chuuya lean up, expecting the natural sensation of their lips connecting, not at all surprised once it actually happened. There was something about this that seemed… off to Dazai. They were late. And either Chuuya was intoxicated (which he wasn’t since he’d given up alcoholic drinks a few years ago) or they actually weren’t late for anything.
Dazai returned the kiss, but his mind was whirring respectively.
What was Chuuya planning?
His partner held onto him tightly, savouring their kiss like he was a dying man. Steadily, the hand fencing him against the car and the other cradling his hip started to move, and Dazai opened his eyes to figure out what the hell was going on. Gloved fingers started to curl around his shoulder, hoisting up his short partner further… but they didn’t stop there. Chuuya glided his hands down Dazai’s arms lovingly, stroking him with the pads of his thumbs. However, as soon as they’d settled around his elbows, Dazai’s world was spun.
With a gargled scream, the brunette hit the car bonnet, gracelessly bent over the shiny metal, his arms pinned to his back.
“CHUUYA!”
“Shh, shh. It’s alright, Osamu.”
Despite the fact they both knew that Chuuya’s strength paired with the fact that his movements had been strategised meant Dazai was weak to fight back, he still struggled against the vice-like grip around his hands.
Was Chuuya planning to fuck him on top of his car? His new position was very suggestive- as was the impromptu kissing only moments ago. And all the house attendants had gone home…
“You Dirty Dog!”
Chuuya had the audacity to laugh. “You complain like you haven't been in this situation before.” However, before Dazai could genuinely give in and chuckle back, he heard the clinking together of metal and a zip as something cold trapped itself around his wrists. “Because you haven’t.”
“Chuuya, what-” His other hand was also immobilised, meaning that Chuuya could stand back and just admire the sight.
His heart dropped. He’d know that feeling anywhere.
Fuck, this is kinky.
“Handcuffs, Dear?” He chippered, twisting around to leer at the man undoubtedly smirking at his new predicament. “Hate to ruin your well laid plan, but I believe I have, in fact, been in this exact position before. Have I not?”
He remembered the night clearly: a very spicy way to kick off their fifth year together and the start of the new year simultaneously. All he was going to say was a car, handcuffs, a police officer outfit and a private cliffside retreat in Australia lead to one killer orgasm.
Chuuya smiled darkly, making his way between Dazai’s legs that weren’t so innocently parted. “You have not.”
Before he could question what the hell he meant, Chuuya’s face vanished from sight, replaced with a soft blackness wrapped around his eyes.
A little more caught off guard this time, he let out a more nervous chuckle. “Blindfolds? Chuuya, do you have amnesia or something?”
There was also a blindfold somewhere that night in Perth. And a taser. It was wild.
Alas, Chuuya didn’t waste anymore time trying to beat Dazai’s battle of wits and just pulled him up roughly by the back of his trapped wrists, walking him somewhere in the opposite direction.
“Chibi-”
“Hush, it’s okay.”
Dazai heard some sort of mechanical door ease open. “Is it?!”
Chuuya laughed behind his ear. “Trust me.”
“I don’t know if I sh- IT!”
After a brutish shrug, Dazai collapsed onto a material that was soft yet also itchy- it was like felt. However, the fall was more being bent over something once again- only thing was that this time, Chuuya lugged his long legs onto the surface as well so he was laying extremely uncomfortably on his bound wrists.
The more he got a sense for his new environment, the more the horrific reality started to settle in his bones. The felt, the way the surface bounced to adjust to his weight, how there also seemed to be walls, how low down he was…
He screeched, no longer on the road to thinking he was getting an orgasm out of this (at least, not for a while). “IS THIS THE BOOT?!”
Chuuya sounded further away, however even blindfolded, Dazai could hear the pure amusement in his tone. “Shout if something is wrong…”
“THIS IS WRONG-!” But the boot door closed with a tantalising click, so- naturally- Dazai kicked it forcefully. “CHUUYA!”
“Remember the safe word!”
If Dazai could hear Chuuya from outside of this metal box, he was positive the man heard him seethe. Of course he gave Dazai the option of the safe word, knowing how his brattiness could often be confusing- this was one of those times. Was Dazai’s ego bruised now that he was locked inside the boot of Chuuya’s car again? Yes. Was Dazai curious as to why Chuuya chose this mode of transport and figured that the only way he was ever going to find out would be to let this (quite frankly, illegal) scenario play out? Yes.
That didn’t mean he had to make Chuuya’s life easy for it.
Dazai could hear Chuuya (or who he assumed to be his partner) jump in the driver’s seat, release the clutch and roll out of their gravelled drive towards the road- and during that short amount of time, he’d decided on screaming Chuuya’s name for high heaven. Five minutes into their journey, Chuuya had turned up the radio to an echoing volume- only making Dazai complain louder. Ten minutes in: Chuuya was singing even louder than the pop artist just to rub more salt in the hole left by the blow to Dazai’s dignity. Fifteen minutes in… Well. It was a catchy song and Dazai wanted to sing too.
He had absolutely no clue where he was going, and once their puzzling duet had finished, Dazai got back to demanding Chuuya tell him what the fuck was happening (and whether he should be expecting to get off from this)- but Chuuya had the power and turned up the stereo once again, singing some cheesy love song that was just heckling at their situation right now.
Dazai’s arms were starting to ache- his blindfold definitely messing up the back of his hair by that point, being jostled against the felt of the boot. It was a relatively long journey, less than an hour, but long enough for him to be completely mind-fucked by the end of the ride. The first indication that they were somewhere new was the change from tarmac to pebbles as they pulled into their new destination. There were incoherent mutterings as Chuuya conversed with someone through the window, but soon enough they were continuing down the crunch of the stone. Of course, Dazai considered announcing his presence in an unconventional way, but he didn’t actually want Chuuya to be arrested and dubbed as some sexual deviant to the press once they found Dazai tied up in the boot. Because- well- they were, but that wasn’t something the world needed to know, or another bullet they needed to be loaded up against the homosexuals.
So he stayed quiet, relishing in the knowledge that Chuuya would be sweating- terrified Dazai would shout something obscene like, “I just want to see my family again!” or “I’m scared, Daddy…” or “Chuuya, I am no longer aroused.”
The car had stopped many times on their way over here, so Dazai stopped hoping that this nightmare would be over whenever the wheels stopped tuning. However, this time he heard the door go, listening to the steps walking closer and closer…
He prepared himself. The boot door eased open. But Dazai’s plan was basically over before it could begin. He tried to lunge out at his sadistic partner, but he was immobilised instantly, as if Chuuya had expected it.
With a huff, Dazai laid back down in the boot pathetically, “CHIBI! I’m into kinky shit but come on!”
Chuuya just laughed chestilly, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead, much to Dazai’s confusing irritation.
“Untie me now.”
“Nope!”
“Chuuya! I’ll keep the blindfold on, but please give me some slither of my dignity back!”
Dazai felt arms curl around him, “I don’t trust you.”
“And you think I’m in a position to trust you now either?!”
“I don’t think you have a choice.” With an effortless lift, Dazai was lifted into his arms, gargling a scream.
The handcuffs behind his back made it very difficult for him to get comfy, and this time it was genuinely painful so he called out the safe-word frantically before Chuuya could dislocate his shoulder.
“Sorry! Sorry!” He fumbled, sitting the brunette back on the rim of the boot before the metal shackles were released. “You okay?”
“Yes, now.” He grumbled, rubbing his wrists dramatically.
He felt Chuuya sigh, throwing the restraining confines somewhere in the car before hoisting his partner back into his arms in a much more pragmatic bridal carry. “You touch the blindfold though, and you’ll pay.”
“Will I now~?”
“Not in a good way.”
“Oh.”
“Just-” Chuuya jostled the big bag of bones more securely against himself as Dazai wrapped his arms around his neck, still managing to close the boot of the car with his leg?! It had to be: this one didn’t have automatic doors. “- hold on.”
“Where are we going?!”
“I put myself through the challenge of getting and keeping a blindfold on you, and you really think I’d just tell you?”
“... Worth a shot.”
Chuuya chuckled. “Idiot.”
The journey lasted for another mind-numbing amount of time. If he didn’t have Chuuya there to annoy, he would have gone insane. They’d entered a building quite soon, which meant he wouldn't have been too cold… but Dazai was deeply concerned as to how big this building was. They were inside it forever. Of course, being with Chuuya meant he’d been in a good few mansions in his time, but this had to be the icing to the cake.
There were so many stairs. And although his partner was a fitness freak, he must have been exhausted carrying both his own weight and Dazai’s up the obscene amount of steps. Dazai, of course, took this onto himself to taunt Chuuya, “tired yet, Chiibiii~?” / “regretting this yet, Chiiiiiiiiibiiiiiiiiii~?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Heh heh heh heh~”
It even got to a point where Dazai started singing, ‘If you’re happy and you know it’, attempting to clap his hands despite the fact it could have very much set Chuuya off balance and sent them toppling metres down to their deaths. But ultimately, he did settle down and close his eyes despite the darkness of the blindfold. There was something almost meditative about being in Chuuya’s arms- and being carried like a princess? It was romantic. And serine. Like he didn’t have a care in the world. Of course, he couldn’t ignore the discomfort in his muscles after a long while in the same position, but the strange thing with Chuuya was that just the thought of it made the unease durable. He’d much rather wake up every morning with a cramped arm than ever wake up without the handsome, chiselled face of his partner there to make him swoon.
He loved Chuuya, with every meaning of the word and beyond.
So he snuggled as best as he could over the shorter man’s shoulder, and just absorbed the moment like the last picture your eyes file away before you pass on.
Then, they reached the top of the stairs, and Dazai giggled as the man almost cried in relief.
Slowly, he was lowered down to his shaky feet, trying to regain feeling where his legs had been pressed against Chuuya’s forearm. But Chuuya held his hands as he found his balance again, gently leading him with teasing remarks further into whatever room he’d been abducted into.
He could feel a breeze on his skin, a warm blast of air that only made him shiver, the way the confused seasons tended to do in September.
“Chuuyaaa…” He warned but his lips were upturned as he stumbled over air once again.
“We’re almost there-” Dazai felt hands on his shoulders pushing and pulling him into what must have been a very specific spot. “Boom. Now stay there.”
Before Dazai could pull another trivial complaint to his lips, the sensation of Chuuya stopped him. He was holding him close, a familiar hand supporting his back as he brought them close enough to feel the warmth of his breaths. And he kissed him, slow and light, resting his forehead comfortably under Dazai’s chin. Just…. holding him. He chuckled- beyond fond- threading a hand through where he thought those groomed ginger curls would have been.
“Seriously, Chuuya, have you brought me to your secret- outdoor?- sex dungeon, or something?”
Yet, he got no response- only another chaste kiss. But as gloved hands moved through his own hair, the blindfold was displaced, the darkness falling away and his senses overwhelmed with everything that flooded his sight afterwards.
Dazai’s vision stung as his eyes finally settled in the real world.
His surroundings were familiar. The damp smell… the gothic architecture…
He’d been here before. Illuminated by the same full moon: had Chuuya really gone to so much detail as to get the celestial phases correct?
Then his mind cleared and he remembered.
Chuuya.
As he’d removed the blindfold, Chuuya had dropped down below him…
He was on one knee.
There was a hand in his blazer pocket.
They were on top of the Elizabeth Tower.
Dazai’s entire sensory network shut down for a second- he had left his body. He had died- and yet he had never felt so alive.
Was this really happening? After eight years- was Chuuya finally…?
“Osamu.” Ohmygodheis-! “You read all of those romance novels, so I figured that I had a lot to make up for.” Dazai laughed, too brightly- brighter than the sun could ever wish to beam. He felt like he could blind the world. “So, my excuse that it’s taken me eight years to do this is because I had to come up with some cheesy line to make us both vomit.” He took a deep breath, finally pulling a black box from his pocket. “Osamu Dazai.” Dazai felt like he was internally hyperventilating. “I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings.” Then the box opened. Dazai could scream. Was he screaming? Oh god, he was going to have a heart attack.
Inside were two rings: one red, one blue, both made of origami paper. They were both patterned with the unique, intricate twists and folds Chuuya had created. They were beautiful. They were more than beautiful- god, they were a work of art.
Chuuya hadn’t bought real rings- he hadn’t even bought a pretty one with enough money to take Dazai out to buy a more personal one- Chuuya knew that money was so much less than what they had- and he didn’t need words to say it. Here it was, plain and simple.
He’d give up everything he’s ever had for Dazai and more- that he loved him more than money could buy. All in two, homemade, origami rings.
“You are the one I want to spend my life with, Osamu. Will you marry me?”
Finally Dazai could scream like a little girl. His hands couldn’t decide between covering his mouth and protecting his eyes- just in case this was a dream. But it was more than that. The setting, the moon phase, the romantic picnic he’d had set up before the stars- it was all overwhelming in itself… However, what Chuuya had said… He recognised it somewhere.
Then it hit him.
“You quoted Taylor Swift?!”
“I mean- I wanted to do the ring thing anyway and she’s more of a lyrical genius than I could ever be-”
Dazai quite literally lunged at him- he’s not sure what happened to the box, all he knew is that Chuuya hit the floor with a thud but he still managed to wrap Dazai up and kiss him back just as feverishly.
“Yes.” He cried, no tears but they weren’t expecting that. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Chuuya was kissed again, as if the life was about to be sucked out of him.
“It took you long enough!”
“Hey!” Chuuya laughed loudly, hands still fawning over his fiancé’s body- cherishing who had officially agreed to be his, forever. Forever. “You also could have wooed me, but you’re an attention whore with an ego big enough to fill a room. You can’t complain.”
“Phoo, Chuuya.” But they kissed once again. “I’ve kind of shot myself in the foot here though.” Chuuya hummed for him to continue. “You’ve proposed to me in the place we had our first date, waited until there was the same moon alignment, completely took me by surprise, quoted our Lady and Saviour: Taylor Swift, and made your own rings? You’ve officially made me the worst boyfrie- fiancé.”
Chuuya laughed, kissing the pout from his lips. “Actually: the moon was a complete coincidence… Today was the day you pissed in my car.”
Dazai’s mind short circuited.
“OH MY GOD.” Why hadn’t that clicked before?! There had only been one other time he’d been locked in the boot of Chuuya’s car (well, actually that was debatable), that was the first easter egg Chuuya had dangled under his nose! “CHUUYA! You’ve just won at being a fiancé! Fuck you!”
“You don’t get a win unless you play in the game.”
“Stop it with the iconic quotes! Just you wait,” Chuuya scoffed, “we’ve still got our wedding day for me to get a draw at this game.”
“Game on.”
Dazai had no idea what he could do to top this- but he had to come up with something. And he would. By God, he would.
They kissed again, an addicting cycle of needing to come up for a breath and needing more. Cherishing each other. Their teeth hadn’t clashed in a long time, but they were too desperate and too happy to stop the grin as their lips met. There was a series of sickly sweet nothings, hushed ‘I love you’s, devoted confessions and more kisses to try and wipe the blushes away. Dazai had forgotten about the rings really, oblivious to the candle-lit picnic and a noticeable bottle of non-alcoholic whisky on a bed of velvet pillows. However, when the gentle pecks simmered down into a melting embrace, and Chuuya started playing with his hand did they notice the absence of the paper bounds on their fingers.
Chuuya smiled, wordless, reaching blindly behind him to bring the box back into his grip. They beamed and giggled like school children, finally feeling the official bond tying them together- in a strange, scarily reassuring feeling of ownership for one another.
“It fits perfectly.” Dazai whispered, just above the distant thrum of Friday-night London traffic below them.
Chuuya held his face as if he were more precious than diamonds, stroking his cheek just to make sure he was real. Dazai’s eyes had softened long ago, but while he wasn’t tearing up- that was the only stage left for him to go if they eased anymore. He could smell the vibrant aftershave on his fiancé’s wrist, feel the tickle of the paper hugging his now-gloveless finger, as he dove his nose down against the veins before pressing his lips down to the exposed skin. All the while, Chuuya watched him with a typhoon of adoration in his eyes. Of hope. Of trust.
Dazai could feel the heat from his face with how close they were, admiring every slight dimple, every faint line of time starting to make an appearance around his lips. All of his beauty. The deep oceans of his eyes.
He was breath-taking. And Dazai was now going to spend the rest of his life in a constant state of asphyxiation.
But it would be so worth it.