college au

[dressing]

Dazai doesn't really remember how this started. One minute, he and Jouno were going at each other, snide comments and passive aggression, and the next, they're meeting up at least once a week to either study, or to fuck. Would he call this a 'friends with benefits' situation? Not really. There are benefits, sure, but he'd hardly call Jouno a friend except where said 'friend' can overhear it, because Dazai knows it would annoy him. Thus, not friends.

But there certainly are benefits. Jouno's not a bad lay, and Dazai doesn't really have the sort of personality that permits him to find a steady date, not does he want one. Getting someone to go home with him, or take him home, requires effort, and there's a chance of it being terrible; at least with Jouno, he knows what he's getting, and it's fun. There are spoken and unspoken agreements, and someone to match Dazai's terrible personality.

They're having one of those weekly sessions now; Dazai lounges on his bed, scrolling his phone while he waits for the knock on the door. He's got work to do for classes, but it's really nothing he can't hastily complete the night before with a good amount of caffeine, so whatever. This is much more important.

Comments

[dressing]

It's true; Dazai ending up dead in an apparent suicide would make people more suspicious than anything. It's an interesting thought, though, and he hums as he considers it, though the sound catches rough in his throat. Dazai's eyes flutter closed, but he's far from passing out just from this; instead, he's enjoying the hand on his dick, only opening his eyes to frown when the friction of Jouno's hand is gone.

Ah, lube, then. Dazai doesn't particularly care if it hurts or not, and he knows Jouno doesn't either. The look on Jouno's face, the wrinkle of his nose, is a bit cute, if Dazai were into guys like this. Which he's not. Jouno is a good fuck, but god forbid Dazai ever want to date him.

The expression on Dazai's face doesn't change when Jouno's hand comes back down, presses against his entrance. He's used to it, shifts his hips to spread his legs a bit more. He's not expecting foreplay here, but he doesn't want it, either; that's too soft, too pleasant, too nice. Nothing about either of them is nice. That's why Dazai likes it.

"Go ahead. If anyone were to kill me, it ought to be you. You've earned it." He says it with nonchalance, reaching down to wrap his hand around his dick, picking up where Jouno had left off.