(no subject)

[dressing]

[Dazai, of course, knows when Chuuya's birthday is. He celebrates in his own way--rigged wine bottles sent via crate, a watch that runs just slightly too slow, things like that. Underneath them, there's an actual gift that Chuuya might keep, if he wants to; the watch can be fixed, and it's a nice one (don't ask where Dazai got it), the wine is expensive as long as the trap isn't triggered (don't ask where he got that, either). This year, he's taken the liberty of breaking into Chuuya's apartment himself, bringing with him a decent bottle of wine that he's already had a few generous sips of. How many birthdays has Chuuya celebrated since Dazai has known him? Dazai had thought he'd be dead far before this one, but here he is.

He knows Chuuya will be home soon, lounges easily on his couch with his coat draped over the back of it. He's not going to hide and jump out of the cupboard this time; Dazai is too old for childish tricks like that. At least, today. Ah, youth; he remembers giving Chuuya an exploding pen one year, back when they were still in the mafia together. The ink never came out of that stupidly expensive shirt he was wearing.

The lights are off, because this is a surprise, right? (Not really, Chuuya will know immediately.) So he sit in the almost-dark, takes another drink from the bottle of wine. Dazai has never understood the difference between cheap wine and expensive wine, figuring that whatever gets you drunk the fastest must be the best. Chuuya, on the other hand, will appreciate it. Or so he says. Dazai still isn't sure it's not all an act to pretend he's more cultured and less of an idiot than he actually is.

But honestly? Waiting is kind of boring. He needs something to do, and there's still most of the bottle left.]

Comments

[indensity]

All my sheets are nice.

[Why would he buy himself anything other than expensive sheets, after all. He doesn't sleep as much as he should, but when he does, he's going to make sure it's comfortable.]

You can sleep in the wet spot.

[He says it, and then slides a hand up to wrap around Dazai's throat, tightening it, just for a second. Just long enough to kiss Dazai while he can't actually say anything back, his last act of rebellion (it doesn't count as resisting), before he pulls back and stands up. Becaue if they're doing it, he might as well move to the bedroom and start stripping.]

[dressing]

[Chuuya's hand around his throat is a familiar feeling; Dazai doesn't even flinch, knows that it's just foreplay--disappointing, to be honest--and that if Chuuya wanted to snap his neck, he would have done so years ago. And what an easy way that would have been to die, eh?]

I'm not sleeping in the wet spot. You can sleep on the floor like a dog.

[Dazai stands, too, stretches his arms over his head. His lips tingle from the kiss, but Dazai never lets himself think about that for too long.]

[indensity]

[Dazai knows where Chuuya keeps hit toys, even the ones Chuuya tried to hide from him, so Chuuya doesn't bother to help him with that. He can find the rope and whatever else he needs, pick the color, because he never likes letting Chuuya have even a single say. And Chuuya has already asked for a lot.

So instead he simply strips off all his clothes and folds them, knowing that anything that's left on stands the risk of being cut off by Dazai if he's too lazy to deal with buttons. Which he always is.]

It's my bed.

[And if he's wearing lingerie instead of boxers today, maybe he was hoping to get laid. It's telling that he went home after the party, instead of to a club or another bar. He'll leave those on, though, for now. Just those, and his collar.]

[dressing]

[Oh, Dazai knows where everything is. He's been here often enough, but even without that, he has an uncanny ability to remember the location of things. So he sweeps into the room, humming to himself--it's the tune of some game they'd played in an arcade ages ago--and ends in front of the nightstand.]

It's your bed, sure. And yet, you're inviting me into it. Isn't it only right that you allow a guest to sleep in comfort? Or are you really such a poor host, Chuuya?

[The ropes are in here, in the bottom drawer. Dazai pops it open, rummages around inside. He's not looking at Chuuya just yet, but when his hands close around the rope and he turns to look-]

Oh. I see.

[He's seen Chuuya in lingerie before, of course, but still. It's always amusing when it's unexpected.]

[indensity]

[Chuuya isn't shy. He knows he looks good like this, he knows fucking him like this turns Dazai on, but there's still something about that almost dismissive tone that always gets to Chuuya. Dazai doesn't even think it's anything to be embarrassed by, wouldn't care if it was anyone but Chuuya... But since it is Chuuya, of course he'll be a dick.

And maybe Chuuya shouldn't be letting Dazai know how much he actually wants him. Maybe the lingerie gives away too much.

But he refuses to let any embarrassment show, just gives Dazai an unimpressed look.]

I'm only a bad host to shitty guests.

[Not gonna acknowledge Dazai's reaction to what he's wearing at all.]

[dressing]

[Oh, the lingerie gives away plenty. Dazai has to fight down a smug grin, unravelling the neatly-looped rope in his hands.]

Do you let shitty guests fuck you as well? Do you dress up for them?

[He pulls a length of the rope taught between his hands, waiting for Chuuya to get on the bed.]

[indensity]

[Chuuya can take a hint. He gets on the bed, watching Dazai for instructions, letting Dazai guide him into whatever position he wants. It's difficult not to feel some adrenaline building, when Dazai is the only person who can actually restrain Chuuya and keep him trapped. And he never knows what Dazai might do.]

It wasn't for you.

[It was. He hadn't known Dazai would be here, but he'd been planning to text him. He might have let someone else fuck him if Dazai hadn't responded... Or at least it's better to pretend he would have.]

[dressing]

[Today, he wants Chuuya on his back. Dazai wants to see his face, so he motions Chuuya to stay there, leaning over to knot some of the rope to the headboard.]

Hmm? Oh, pardon, were you expecting someone else to fuck you tonight? Maybe I ought to go.

[He won’t. Or he might, but he’ll at least work Chuuya up first.]

[indensity]

[Dazai putting him on his back is never a good sign... Then again, no position is ever really a good sign. No matter what, Dazai wants to humiliate him. Chuuya doesn't reisist though. He promised not to, and he wouldn't anyway, not when he wants this as much as he does.]

Asshole. [Don't make him admit that it was for Dazai.] Stay.

[dressing]

Ah, it's disgusting when you ask that of me.

[Not disgusting enough for him to leave. Dazai motions for Chuuya to lift his arm.]

Hearing you tell me to stay, I'm almost tempted to leave you here like this.

[indensity]

Shut up. When did I ask you to?

[He lifts his arm, even as he's giving Dazai a warning glare. He doubts he'll leave at this point, but just in case.]

The second you let go of me, I can get free of the restraints. And I'd kick your ass.

[Would that count as breaking his promise not to resist? He's not sure. He's not sure he cares.]

[dressing]

[Of course he can. Dazai knows this.]

Alright then, go on! Break them. Have fun spending your night alone.

[Dazai continues what he's doing, because they both know Chuuya isn't going to break free, nor is he going to kick Dazai's ass. Not this time. He's already willingly put himself here.]

[indensity]

[Chuuya glares a bit harder, because he doesn't appreciate being called out. Of course he's not going to break free now. Of course he's not going to break his own promise, either. He stays still, let's Dazai do what he wants.]

Or you could do it a bit tighter.

[Not that it makes a difference. But it's a way to change the subject away from Chuuya continuing to admit that he wants this, which he's already admitted enough.]

[dressing]

[Now that, Dazai can oblige. But simply obliging isn't something Dazai will ever do for Chuuya, if he can avoid it.

So this time, when he tightens it, it really is tight, enough that it'll burn, enough that it'll leave a mark.]

[indensity]

[Chuuya winces when he feels how tight it is. He shifts, squirms a little to test how tight it really is, and he feels the rope drag across his skin. At least the rope is soft, treated to be safe to use for bondage, but that doesn't help if it's tight enough to cut off circulation. At least Chuuya can take a lot more than the average person.

And Dazai knows exactly how much he can take.]

That's not what I meant and you know it.

[Wasn't it? He wanted bruises, and if Dazai breaks skin that's even better.]

[dressing]

[Chuuya can take much more than the average person, but even if he couldn't, Dazai won't pretend to care. If he's uncomfortable, then good. If it leaves marks, even better.]

Oh, isn't it? Tsk. You ought to be more forward with your words, Chuuya.

[It's just the start, though. Once Chuuya's wrists are both tied, Dazai will stand back to admire his work. Oh, it's easy enough like this for Chuuya to break free. It would take nothing at all, really.]

If you break it while I'm not touching you, good luck getting off tonight.

[indensity]

It's definitely uncomfortable. It draws Chuuya's attention to the tightness of the ropes, and he has to force down the natural instinct to struggle, to free himself. He doesn't want to free himself, but he could, and holding back his own reflexes takes focus. That's why he prefers when Dazai is touching him.

That, and other reasons.

"Would you stop me from jerking myself off, too?" It slips out before he can stop himself. It's accusatory - he hasn't agreed to give Dazai that power - and a question at the same time. Dazai could, and he knows it, and the thought just makes him harder. He twists his wrists to see if the ropes will at least loosen a fraction, but of course they don't, and the slide of it burns.

[dressing]

Part of the fun of this is watching Chuuya resist his own instincts. Dazai knows he'd hardly do it with anyone else; he also knows he's the only person who can bring Chuuya back down to a more-or-less human level of strength, though Dazai admits that's still more than he can say for himself. He's never been interested in brute strength; mostly all of Dazai's training is used for self-defense.

"Certainly. I'm a man of my word." When he wants to be. Rolling up his sleeves, Dazai shifts to sit between Chuuya's legs, a hand on his inner knee. "Now... What was I going to do with you?"

[indensity]

[Chuuya would let other people tie him up. But letting them tie him up isn't the same as giving up control. He wants it, but he won't give it to just anyone - and Dazai really is the only one who can push him this far. It's not just because he can take away Chuuya's ability to free himself.

He squirms a bit more, but spreads his legs for Dazai to settle between them. The way Dazai is looking at him now is all it takes to make his skin tingle, spreading from the point where Dazai's hand is touching skin.]

Did you need suggestions?

[He knows Dazai doesn't. He knows Dazai would reject any more suggestions from him.]

You really think I'd just let you control my orgasms even outside of sex?

[dressing]

[Dazai laughs, short and mirthless. As if he needs suggestions from Chuuya!]

I have a long list of things for you.

[He leans in, pinches the inside of Chuuya’s thigh. That’s not on the list, he just wants to be annoying. And now comes the part where Dazai makes sure he’s touching part of Chuuya’s body at all times, just in case he forgets he’s not supposed to break the bonds.]

As much as I’d like to, no, I don’t think you’d let me.

[indensity]

[Chuuya jerks his leg away at that pinch. It doesn't really hurt, but it really wasn't necessary, either. He can tell what Dazai is doing.]

What do you mean, let you?

[He doesn't trust that tone. He jerks his leg again, just to make Dazai stop touching him for a second this time, even though he has no intention of freeing himself. He wouldn't forget. He can control himself. Usually.

But he likes the way Dazai can make him feel completely helpless when he's touching him, even if he'd ever admit it.]