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[As a human, Chuuya is insanely strong. As a vampire, without self-limits? Dazai can't even hope to outrun him, so he doesn't bother. They've fought before, and Dazai has lost plenty (not that he'd willingly admit it), but this is different. No amount of teasing is going to snap Chuuya out of it, and no amount of manipulation is going to get him to relent.

Is this how Dazai will end up dying? He'd laugh, but it feels pointless to gloat about it when Chuuya isn't aware enough to understand it.

Ah... he can't help himself.]

Is this how you end up falling, Chuuya? It's really quite pathetic; you've completely lost that humanity you craved so desperately, you know?

[As if saying the worst things he can think of might snap Chuuya out of it, even though Dazai is aware that's not how this works. Still... if it did, if Chuuya were to punch him in the face right now with that angry expression Dazai knows so well, he wouldn't be terribly mad about it.

Dying like this would absolutely suck, to be honest. It's not going to be painless at all. What a pity.]

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[Chuuya doesn't hesitate. He doesn't pause to wonder why his prey isn't running away, because something like that is no longer important to him. His face is expressionless, eyes dark and cold as he charges into Dazai, pushing him to the floor and landing on top, pinning him by the shoulders.

His orders are clear, and they're all that matters. Bite, infect - he can't infect Dazai, but in his current state he doesn't know, or doesn't take his own knowledge into account, because he's not here to make opinions for himself. He roughly pushes Dazai's face to the side and leans down.

And stops when Dazai's speaks.

No, those words don't matter. Why would they matter? Nothing here matters.

Those bandages won't stop him either. Chuuya closes that distance and bites, tasting blood and fabric, spitting out the latter in annoyance before leaning back down, lapping up hot red blood like he's starving.]

[ Dazai wants to say he doesn’t care; Chuuya could rip his throat out just like this and he’d laugh. Except that’s not entirely true. He dislikes the cold, impassive look—Dazai would far rather and angry Chuuya, with some expression on his face. This is as good as a corpse, isn’t it? But somehow, Chuuya feels the same as ever, the same weight, the same curve of his body. And he’s still just as strong.

Perhaps Dazai ought to struggle, to play at this stupid cat-mouse game he’s supposed to be part of, but he won’t. Chuuya can’t infect him; the most he can do is kill Dazai, and that’s not something Dazai has ever run away from. How ironic it would be, though.

Or maybe not, because this isn’t Chuuya. It’s just some mindless thing Dazai decides he hates even more. But—he does stop, when Dazai speaks, and for a moment, his gaze shifts back to Chuuya’s face, some sort of expectation that maybe he’ll see something familiar there.

It doesn’t happen, of course. What does happen is a burst of pain, teeth tearing through bandages that may as well not even be there. Dazai refuses to make a noise, because he doesn’t care, but when the warm slick of a tongue touches skin, he grimaces. Yes… that feels like Chuuya. Suddenly and inexplicably, Dazai is irritated at this thing for masquerading as something its not, and he attempts to get a knee between them, attempts to push away the weight on top of him with a well-placed forearm. ]

Pathetic. Disgusting. Chuuya. [ He snaps the words like they might do something. ]

[Chuuya licks up the blood like he's starving, like it's the most delicious meal he's ever tasted. And he's about to lean down, latch onto the wound and suck, when Dazai starts to push him away. His prey had been docile until now, so it takes him by surprise, making him back off just for a moment. He tilts his head at the words, like the register but won't quite process.

Annoyance flickers across his face just for one second, the first expression he's shown at all, and then he bares his teeth in a warning. Food shouldn't fight back.

He grabs at Dazai's wrist to pull his arm away. The leg doesn't bother him, he just presses down against it, doesn't even react when it pushes against his crotch. Not yet, at least.

He wants more blood. He needs it. And his prey hasn't been infected yet, so he's allowed to keep going, right?]

[The way Chuuya’s head tilts is disgustingly unnatural, yet another reminder. He backs off long enough for Dazai to try and move back, adrenaline sinking under his skin. If this were anyone else, he’d simply not care. It’s hardly like he’d die from this, probably. But the fact that it’s Chuuya is what he can’t stand.

His knee pushes against Chuuya’s crotch when they move together, a mocking pantomime of things they’ve done in the past, without the familiar flush on Chuuya’s face and the way his brows knit in irritation. Dazai grimaces, yanking at his wrist. He really hadn’t been planning on fighting Chuuya in any capacity, but it seems he’s not being given a choice. Yes, Dazai could simply let him do as he wants, but it feels wrong. It makes his skin crawl.

He tries shoving his knee up, an attempt to draw at least some sort of pain, or unseat Chuuya enough to regain a vague upper hand.]

[Chuuya is unrelenting, pulling Dazai's arm to the side, before leaning back down and latching onto that wound. He's eagerly drinking up blood, using his teeth to make sure it keeps flowing into his mouth, now dyed completely red.

And the blood is having another effect, too, his now unnaturally pale skin just slightly flushed, but most of his own blood going lower. Dazai's knee is rubbing in a way that should be painful, but to a vampire taht's not a deterrent at all. He's getting hard. He grinds back down against the knee, but doesn't make a sound, or otherwise react at all. He's only acting on instinct.

Impatiently, he rips at the bandages, tearing more of them away. This prey is too good to give up.]

[It hurts, but at the same time, there’s something about the feeling of being bitten, of Chuuya lapping up red blood, that makes Dazai buzz. He doesn’t want to consider that he’s simply sensitive to Chuuya, even if he’s currently a mindless thing, none of the intentional pain he’d likely want to inflict out of spite if he were himself.

Fuck, it hurts. Dazai hates it.

He also hates that he can feel Chuuya getting hard. They’ve fucked in a lot of messed up situations, but again, that’s when Chuuya is himself, when he has complaints and threats and demands. This is… nothing. A bodily reaction that still exists, because Chuuya isn’t dead, but it’s very clear he doesn’t care about his situation either way. He grinds down, but it’s not for pleasure; there’s no change to his breathing or his expression.

More of the bandages tear away; Dazai manages to shift his other arm, his free hand pushing at Chuuya’s face, moving to grab his hair. He’s not going to be gentle—not that he ever is, but especially not now.]

[And that gets the first real reaction out of him.

Chuuya has always paused when Dazai grabs his hair. He's always stopped moving and focused his attention on Dazai, like his world is narrowing down, waiting to see what he'll do or what he wants. It's something he has to actively resist at times to stop Dazai's ego from getting too big... but he never actually wants to. It's always been able to get to him.

He pulls his head back again, and there's the ghost of that reaction on his face, but not quite there, like something has that part of him locked down. Chuuya like this is completely obedient. But not to Dazai. He shakes it off.

Blood is dripping form his mouth and onto Dazai's face, and this time he bites at his lip, too, grinding down harder, a growl in his throat.]

[For a moment, Dazai freezes as Chuuya does. It’s the first reactionz he’s gotten, like maybe there’s some way he can drag Chuuya back, something Dazai wants to tell himself he doesn’t care about. It’s only because Chuuya like this is useless to him, is an actual threat to his life where the ordinary, familiar Chuuya is just annoyed blustering.

It’s gone just as quickly. Blood plip-plips from Chuuya’s mouth, already staining torn bandages and the collar of Dazai’s shirt. It’s warm and sticky, and when Dazai moves, it hurts.

Chuuya grinds down, and Dazai yanks at his hair again.]

You’re a sorry excuse for a human- Even like this, you still can’t think of anything else, can you?

[But oddly enough, as much as they’ve fucked, as many times as they’ve ended up in each other’s beds… this is one time Dazai doesn’t want that outcome. He can’t imagine it would be good, to fuck some mindless drone, but more than that, it’s just- It’s irritating, that’s all. He needs Chuuya to snap out of it.]

[Chuuya is definitely still in there, somewhere, buried under the infection. It's like a fog in his mind, impossible for him to see through, while his body acts on instinct and orders. And if Dazai had pierced through that fog for a second, it's gone again now. Although the way he keeps pulling at his hair seems to actually annoy the vampire.

So maybe it's having an effect after all.

Probably not the effect Dazai wants, though. It's just increasing his need for violence and blood. And if he can't bite, he'll use his hands, grabbing at Dazai's clothes and bandages, ripping and tearing, getting them out of the way. He wants more blood, so he scratches at skin, dragging sharp nails down Dazai's chest.

He pushes his hips down again and again, not really aware he's doing it. His body feels good, so he keeps it up.]

[This is the first time Dazai hasn’t wanted Chuuya to bite him. He’s kind of fucked here, isn’t he? The only thing worse than Chuuya is a feral Chuuya who won’t listen to any sort of orders, who doesn’t get embarrassed and end up giving into what Dazai wants. So, this isn’t Chuuya. It’s nothing like him, and Dazai genuinely tries to shove him back, tries to get space between them. Because he doesn’t like it.

Unfortunately, Chuuya is too good at being a mindless thing getting in Dazai’s way. And Dazai’s body is too good at reacting to what Chuuya does—the tearing of bandages, the nails on his skin, the blood blooming and staining. And the way Chuuya’s hips move, definitely mindless, but still-]

Stop. Whatever it is in there, Chuuya or some inconvenient little parasite, knock it off.

[Dazai knows words won’t do anything, and he also knows he’s not strong enough to overpower Chuuya, who could genuinely kill him at any moment. How horrific, honestly. This wasn’t the way Dazai wanted to go at all.]

[Chuuya licks Dazai's blood off his fingers, pleased, shoves three of them into his own mouth at once just to make sure he gets every last drop. The more blood he gets, the warmer his body feels, the brighter his eyes turn, although there's still no humanity to see there at all.

Chuuya really would hate what he's become. He fought hard to prove his humanity, and now he's losing it completely. He's going against everything he believes in.

But it's not like the vampire cares. Spit-slick fingers grab Dazai's head, push it back uncomfortably so Chuuya can reach down and lick at his exposed throat. There's so much delicious blood still there. He can feel Dazai's pulse. His hips push down more insistently, grinding too roughly now, because how Dazai feels about all of this is irrelevant.]

[If Dazai were the sort of person to wear his emotions on his sleeve--something he most certainly is not--he might look disgusted. Ah, actually... that's just his face when he looks at Chuuya, isn't it? Seeing him shove his fingers in his mouth almost mimics things they've done before, considering how much Dazai likes to see Chuuya's mouth too full to talk, but in a weird, disconcerting way. He watches the lightness of Chuuya's eyes, but no matter how much warmer his body feels, it's not him, nor does it seem like him at all.

It's a pathetic imitation, and maybe that's what has Dazai so irritated. Chuuya has always been unfailingly human, and this? This isn't anywhere near that. It's not Chuuya; it's a thing that looks like him, and this was absolutely meant, at least in some part, to get under his skin.

He hates that it's working.

The strength is Chuuya's. Dazai has never been able to contend with that, as much as he rarely admits it, but it's apparent when a familiar hand grabs his hand and pins it in place. He swallows under the warmth of Chuuya's mouth, around the sound that threatens to spill out at the feeling of Chuuya's hips grinding down.

With an annoyed noise, Dazai tries to free himself again.]

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