Work Text:
Now it's never to be said that Chuuya is bad at blowjobs.
Not one person has said this. As a matter of fact, it's common knowledge in the Port Mafia that after one quick whirl in Chuuya’s mouth, you’d never want someone else to suck your cock again.
That isn’t to say he’s a whore. Maybe he just likes the heady taste of cum on his lips, the weight of a dick in his mouth, the smell of freshly cleaned (or recently debauched) bodies centimeters away from his nose.
Okay. Maybe he is a whore, but the point being is he never thought he’d hear, not in a million years, Dazai saying he’s probably below average. That the rumors are just subordinates and colleagues alike trying to claw their way into his good graces.
Because they all know once you’re in Chuuya's good graces, he might let you hit it. There’s not a person in Chuuya’s inner circle that he hasn’t slept with just to see what it's like. Tachihara was the first one. After a night out in a highly seedy bar, Chuuya just wanted to fuck someone and conk out until he had to wade his way through his hangover and trudge to work.
Gin was… an experiment. Chuuya knew he never really liked girls as much as the average man. After one night with Gin, he concluded that some people could definitely be exceptions. Higuchi was next. After his successful night with Gin, he decided to test his new-found sexuality’s limits.
As it turns out, he’s not turned on by the whole blonde and bubbly thing. Not to say it was a failure, but they both could’ve benefitted from someone who suited their personal tastes a bit more. All in all, he’d give it a 6/10 because, damn, if that woman didn’t know how to ride like a cowboy.
Now, Hirotsu, he was so unplanned it’s a shock to both of them that they ended up in bed together. He never expected the poor old man to be such a blazing powerhouse in the sack. Twists and turns wouldn’t even begin to describe the positions Hirotsu maneuvered him into.
Akutagawa. Now when it comes to him, all Chuuya can say is he’s into some pretty kinky stuff, and that’s coming from him. If Chuuya has dabbled in BDSM, Akutagawa is the president of it. The man had a section of his apartment dedicated to it… not even a closet or room. A whole goddamn area.
It happened to be an ongoing joke amongst the flags that Chuuya was passed around more than the common cold between the five of them.
So yeah, sue him. It did come as a fucking shock to him when Dazai was so convinced that he was all talk and no bite. And somehow, some way, his mind convinced him to blurt out the most absurd collection of words that he could say to Dazai.
“If you’re so fucking convinced, drop your pants and let me blow you.” Bewildered. Confounded. Perplexed. None of these words even begin to describe how utterly confused he was as to why the fuck he would say that.
Although it’s not like he could take it back now, then he’d really look like he couldn’t do it.
“Why would I do that? So chibi can slobber all over me like the dog he is?” Dazai says, leaning over Chuuya’s desk to leer at him.
“How many times do I have to fucking tell you?! I’m not your goddamned dog!” his breath is ragged at this point, already fed up with Dazai and his stupid little joke.
Chuuya moves his chair backward before standing, pushing himself up against the desk. Looking into Dazai’s eyes now, Chuuya can see he wants it, but to be sure, he says, “Say no at any time, and I’ll stop.” leading him to grab Dazai’s tie and yank him downwards. Their mouths connect with a loud clack of teeth.
Immediately Chuuya starts kissing him, sucking and biting at his bottom lip. His tongue swipes across after he does so. Dazai’s hand tentatively makes its way to tangle into Chuuya’s russet locks of hair, grasping at them roughly once they reach their destination. Soft gasps can be heard throughout the empty office, high-pitched ones begging to be devoured by Chuuya. He pulls away slightly, lips just out of reach of Dazai’s.
It’s hot in here, and not literally.
Everyone knows that when it's hot, you need to take off your clothes. So… off comes Chuuya’s overcoat and his vest. Breath ragged, he walks around his desk over to Dazai. Grabbing his coat and shoving it off his shoulders and onto the polished hardwood. It lands on the ground with a low sound , the heavy fabric elegant still, even as it falls to the floor in a heap.
Chuuya eagerly grabs Dazai's arm, seemingly anxious to get this over with. He leads him over to his desk chair, pushing him to sit not-so-gently .
“Oooh, the little chihuahua is rough when he wants something to suck on, huh?” he laughs out dryly, breaking the previous silence of the room.
“Why can't you ever just shut the fuck up, Dazai?” he spits out, lowering himself to his knees in front of Dazai’s spread legs. Breathing out his nerves, his hands reach for Dazai’s pants, unbuttoning them and then lowering the zipper until it catches at the bottom.
Now. It's not that Chuuya doesn't know what to do. He's just not sure of how to proceed with Dazai . This isn't for fun . This is to prove a point.
He decides to go about this how he would with anyone, choosing to pretend that Dazai is just a guy he met in a rank bar, and he's doing this in a gross bathroom instead of his pristine office. He starts by mouthing at the half tent that Dazai has in his boxers, wetting the fabric with his tongue as he caresses up and down Dazai’s thighs with his hands. Slowing down when he gets close to his dick and pressing harder on the inner sides of Dazai’s thighs.
When he's deemed Dazai ‘worked up’ enough, he pulls the front of his underwear down, letting his cock spring out before grabbing him at the base and stroking upwards a few times, waiting for the tip to get wet with pre-cum. Once it does, he thumbs at the head, spreading the liquid around before licking up the shaft, wrapping his lips around the tip, and sucking his tongue delving into the slit as he does so.
He bobs his head further down, putting pressure where he can feel the vein throbbing against his tongue. It's routine at this point. He has a pretty good idea of what can get guys to cum. And quick.
He continues to just take Dazai further and further with each bob of his head, popping off and taking a breather while suckling alongside his shaft or licking at the still leaking tip as he does so.
But the thing about Chuuya? The thing that gets everyone coming back for more is how he moans when he does this. How, when you get rough, he rivals professional pornstars, groaning and grinding himself against your shoes when you fuck his face.
He doesn't think Dazai notices or cares, really , that his arm is strategically placed in front of himself, so he can rut against it while he blinks the tears out of his eyes from having Dazai’s cock so far down his throat. In truth, doing this is always something that turns him on. There's just something about it that he can't replicate with some dildos and his own two hands.
Dazai’s hand moves from the armrest to his hair, pushing his bangs back to seemingly watch as Chuuya ruins his eyeliner, trying to prove himself to this bastard. Soon though, the grip tightens, his fingers threading more deeply into his copper curls.
The grip on his hair is now firm, stinging where Dazai is grabbing near his roots, pulling him off Dazai's dick. His tongue lolls out to try to finish what he set out to do, but the hand in his hair turns his head, so he is forced to look at Dazai.
“Did the puppy think that he was just going to be able to do whatever he wanted? Hmm? fucking yourself against your hand, just hoping I would notice.” Dazai spits out the words like ice.
He's wrong.
That's not what Chuuya wanted. He goes to say as much, but he's pushed back down before the words are out.
“Oh, sorry, did you think that I was going to listen to a mutt lie to me? Just admit it, Chuuya, you want more than this.” His hand has loosened its hold, allowing Chuuya to get off if he so wished. But hearing Dazai speak to him so, so… degradingly . Did something. It ignited a heat he didn't think he'd get out of this. So instead of pulling off like he originally intended, he goes back down, swallowing Dazai back down to the base.
“You're like a dog with a bone. Such a stupid little bitch, you start slobbering over any cock in your mouth. But you're mine nonetheless. Everyone else hoping , wishing , praying that you'd give them an ounce of attention.” He strokes Chuuya's hair as he speaks, pushing him down further when he feels like Chuuya’s not doing as much as he could.
After another couple of minutes, Chuuya eventually wonders if he is all talk. If he even cared that he was so close to cumming, just for Dazai to call him out and fuck it all up. And just before he's about to call him out on it, Dazai moves his head away from him and stands. He pulls Chuuya up as he does.
He corners Chuuya against his desk, arms on either side of him while he just stares . He looks him up and down before he speaks-
“Take off your stuff. I'm getting what I really came after now.” before Chuuya could even begin to process what he meant by that, Dazai's pulling down his pants, tapping his leg so he could step out of them.
He shrugs out of his shirt and leaves in the same pile as his pants. He goes to take off his choker—
“Leave it on.” He hears Dazai say, his arms grabbing him and tying a familiar red scarf around his wrists in front of him. Bandaged arms twist him around, placing his hands on the desk in front of him and pulling his hips up.
Dazai then leans over Chuuya’s back, his bandages rough against the soft skin. “Is this what you wanted when you offered to blow me? Getting bent over and fucked against your desk, in the middle of your office, when anyone could walk in and see you writhing under me?” his breath fanning over the shell of Chuuya’s ear hotly.
“Why don't you just get on with it, huh? You've got me right where you want me, so just fuck me.”
Chuuya grits out, distracted as Dazai's hand moves over his entrance, the dry friction almost too much to bear after the teasing earlier. His hands grasping at the mahogany that his desk is made out of.
“A needy little slut aren't we, Chuuya~” looking behind him, Chuuya can see Dazai bringing his hand up to his mouth, his tongue laving over his fingers, saliva coating them generously as he does so. He brings his hand back up to Chuuya’s ass, his spit sticky and warm against the sensitive skin.
What he doesn't expect is to feel Dazai’s mouth against him, teeth nipping at him, leaving a variety of different-sized bites over the curve of his ass, slowly making their way to his hole. Once he's at his destination, he licks a stripe up the length of it, then starts sucking at his rim.
“W-what exactly do you think you're doing?” Chuuya is barely able to get the words out, choking over his own breath as Dazai starts working his tongue into him.
Flicking upwards, moving from side to side, fucking in and out of him… it's hard to form a coherent thought with Dazai’s silver tongue snaking into him. He feels one of Dazai’s fingers push against him, shifting to make way alongside his tongue. He then adds another and another. Pretty soon, Chuuya is drooling over his forearm, skin heated to a blush that reaches his own chest. He's not shy with his moans, the whimpering, and the wet pants he lets out, only seeming to encourage Dazai further. Roughly, meanly, twisting his calloused fingers and teasing him. Dragging them along his walls and circling around his prostate while never actually touching them in the place he wants— no needs them most.
Dazai’s free hand moves from where it is, pinching and pawing at his swollen nipples, down to his cock. Wrapping his hand around him and pumping him so slowly that it brings tears to his eyes. Droplets of sweat are joined by the new saltier liquid descending his face and neck. Chuuya’s bangs are stuck to his forehead, matted down by leaning against his arms. The hair on his neck sticks up left and right from twisting this way while enduring the torture Dazai is putting him through.
“ Dazai-“ his sentence cut off when suddenly Dazai removes all stimulation, hands leaving him immediately, only to return to his bruise-ridden thighs and spread his legs further apart.
When Chuuya looks back and sees what's happened, all he can feel is Dazai’s spit hitting his lower back, sliding down, and covering his open hole. He bites his lip to stifle a moan. “What a dirty boy.” Dazai murmured, moving closer to Chuuya, only to swat at his ass over one of the deeper bite marks he’d made earlier. “Do you get off on people spitting and slapping you around? Huh? Do you like when people mark you up, so you can feel like the fucking slut you are for days after?” he's grabbing Chuuya’s hip hard enough to bruise— “Answer me honestly, Chuuya.”
Quite frankly, Chuuya has never been more turned on in his life. Tears fall freely down his cheeks, and he tries to muster an answer.
It must be taking too long for Dazai’s liking because he proceeds to slap his ass twice more, his cock now sliding between his cheeks. Teasing him. Distracting him. God. He can feel it moving with every jolt of his body.
“Why don't you want to be a good boy for me, huh Chuuya? After I've been so nice to you, why can't you act like a good little whore and answer the question?” he sounds so unaffected. The only sign any of this is getting to him are the slight tremors and twitches in his hands as they grab onto Chuuya.
“ Yes . I do. But Dazai, I need-“ he once again gets cut off by Dazai.
“Oh no, I know what you need puppy. You're just a cockslut, aren't you? Begging to be full, pumped up with anyone's cum, and bred like a bitch in heat.”
It all happens so quickly. Dazai standing back up, his cock pressing into Chuuya, the stretch that comes when you're only using spit as lube, the moan that Chuuya lets out as Dazai’s hips hit the backs of his thighs, the low gravelly groan that leaves Dazai.
One hand leaves Chuuya’s hip to wrap around Chuuya’s hair. The sudden tug causes Chuuya to straighten out his arms against the desk, arching his back to accommodate the angle.
Dazai fucks into him as a starved man eats. Thrusting while he pulls Chuuya to meet each one. It's a fast pace from the start, only seeming to get more and more forceful. Each motion of Dazai’s hips hits Chuuya’s prostate dead-on, never missing a beat, pushing whines, moans, keens, and cries out of Chuuya’s mouth.
Dazai jackhammers in and out of Chuuya at an alarming pace, working them both towards the edge and fast .
Chuuya would say it's one of the quickest times he's cum, aside from teenage curiosity and a working right hand.
A couple more thrusts and Dazai is spilling into Chuuya, fucking his cum deeper into him as he moves to finish him off with his hand as well. the pre-cum Chuuya had been leaking the whole time, making the glide of his hand easy as he works Chuuya’s cock until he feels the cum spurt into his hand, the pearlescent liquid dribbling down towards his wrist onto the desk.
They both breathe heavily as Dazai pulls out. He then walks over to the adjoined bathroom wetting the spare rags with warm water to clean them both up.
It's a slow, tedious task, wiping down one place to go rinse the rag and wipe another. After he's done with him, he unwraps his scarf from Chuuya’s wrists, moving on to clean himself up now.
“So.” Chuuya starts as he pulls his pants back up, buttoning them and heading over to the mirror to fix the mess that is his hair. “Still think I'm bad at head, Dazai.” he resigns that there's no fixing it and just tries to make it look as not ‘just been fucked’ as possible.
“Gotta give it to you, chibi. You're good.” Dazai says as he picks his coat back up, fixing it across his shoulders, and takes the scarf from the desk to place it on top. “But I've had better.” he slinks out of the office before Chuuya can give any kind of rebuttal, leaving him red in the face and angry beyond comparison.
‘I guess ill just have to show him again.’ Chuuya thinks. ‘can't have him thinking I’m subpar, can I? It might ruin my reputation’ because that's exactly what it is. Reputation, nothing else. It's not like it was a good fuck or anything. he just needs to show him how good he actually is. After all, he doesn't usually bottom.
‘
Next time.’