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It was a very different kind of date as the Triad settled into Chuuya’s apartment for an evening of reminiscence. Over the last six months, they had faced more dangers than they anticipated — and far too many personal dangers for their tastes. But along with the increasing worry for each-others’ safety, it had shown them all just how apart Atsushi was, how little of the shared history of Dazai and Chuuya he knew about. And Dazai had decided it was only fair they do their best to fix that.
Chuuya was less certain about Dazai’s self-proclaimed brilliant idea. Re-creating their first night together sounded fun in principle, and it had taken place in an apartment similar to this one, but the reality of it, in Chuuya’s opinion, was just asking for them to dig up old feelings. Plus, the sex wasn’t exactly something to write home about.
“It wasn’t very good, Daz,” Chuuya said, raising his eyebrow. “I mean . . . it was incredible, but . . . as far as I remember, we . . . stumbled. A lot. We were sixteen.”
He folded his arms as he stood in the bedroom, looking between his two boyfriends. Dazai, his partner of the past six years, and Atsushi, their newer paramour of about seven months. It was Dazai who had been his first real lover, and the two of them in turn had been Atsushi’s. The younger man, for his own part, seemed thrilled to be included. And that, Chuuya supposed, was why they should try it despite his own misgivings.
“We know a little bit better now,” Dazai said with a wink. “No reason we can’t improvise if it’s not working. But . . . I want Atsushi to know what it was like for us. I want him to experience it.” Dazai propped himself on Chuuya’s bed, still fully clothed. “You be yourself, Chuu. Atsushi can be me. Tell me what happened — no, tell him what happened, and I’ll be here to elaborate . . . and observe.” He gave a small smirk. “I’m sure there’s parts we remember differently.”
And there were probably parts of Dazai’s experience Chuuya hadn’t entirely understood. When they first slept together, Chuuya thought Dazai had hated his guts, only the prospect of sex was too enticing. But he didn’t know that for sure.
“Does that work for you, Atsushi?” Chuuya asked carefully. “You okay taking the . . . Dazai was a little more aggressive. Is that role okay?”
Atsushi nodded excitedly, and Chuuya wondered if he was getting his hopes up. It was nothing special. They hadn’t had the stamina for anything interesting.
“Thank you for doing this,” Atsushi replied. Too fucking sweet, too fucking cute. Chuuya would never get used to those sincere compliments. “I hope this isn’t too . . . intrusive.”
“Nah. I’m not like . . . embarrassed or anything,” Chuuya started. “No one has good sex on the first try. But don’t judge us too harshly, Sush. I was young and . . . really . . . um. Eager.” He was already flushed but might have turned even redder in the dim light.
“Horny,” Dazai corrected.
“What I mean,” Chuuya said, ignoring him, “is that I . . . when me and Dazai first had sex, I came so fast . . . and then . . . I did again soon after . . . what I mean is I have less of a hair-trigger now,” he said at last, finally articulating. “Don’t be discouraged if I’m less sensitive, Atsushi. It might . . . it’s not you.”
“I’d say you’re still quite sensitive,” Dazai replied. “But we’ll see. Anyway I think Atsushi knows how to touch you if the memory doesn’t do it for you.”
Atsushi’s eyes met Chuuya’s and the younger man gave a small smile. “I’ll try,” he said, demure.
“See? This should be fun.” Dazai breathed out and slid to the edge of the mattress, legs dangling off the side. “Do you remember that night, Chuu? I moved into your apartment complex after I saved you. It was Mafia-owned and very easy to secure the apartment next to yours. I knocked on your door and told you I’d be keeping an eye on you. I wanted it to sound like I was sabotaging your efforts to make executive; but really I was fascinated by Corruption. It was another way to die. And . . . well, I kinda thought you were hot.”
“Did you know I wanted you?” Chuuya said softly. “Or did you really just pester your way into my bed?”
“I didn’t know,” Dazai whispered. “Not until then. You didn’t try to have me killed or have your lackeys raid my apartment. So I figured you at least wanted to fuck me then. I was right.”
“You were an asshole about it,” Chuuya sighed. “I expected nothing less. Oh. Sorry, Atsushi. Here’s . . . what happened. Um.”
He gently closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to get into the mindset of being a sixteen-year-old high-ranking Mafia official. And having the one other somewhat psychopathic sixteen-year-old mafioso he had a crush on moving in next door.
“You came by every night for a week,” Chuuya said quietly, his voice gentle. “Knocking outside my door, saying absolutely filthy things.”
There was a brief knocking sound; Atsushi had recreated the foley, though he didn’t quite seem bold enough to try and think of anything dirty to express.
“I didn’t let you in. Until there was a time we were both in the office. You . . . heh . . .god, you’re an asshole. You loudly announced that we had to talk about some project and then headed into the storage room so that it would reflect badly on me if I didn’t follow you. And then once you had me in there . . . you pushed me against the wall and kissed me.”
Atsushi glanced briefly at Dazai, who nodded; and Atsushi did push Chuuya against the wall, taking his cross-tie in his hand and pressing his lips against the shorter man’s. Something about this was channeling the emotions Chuuya had that day, and he felt that tingling resonate from their lips out to the rest of his body. Chuuya acted hesitant, as he had when Dazai kissed him, but he remembered that he had soon parted his lips, let Dazai’s tongue into his mouth, and he opened his mouth to Atsushi, once again finding it difficult to play indifferent when he longed for that taste. He was reluctant to break away, but he had to continue the story or they wouldn’t be going anywhere at all.
“If you didn’t know I had the hots for you before that, you clearly did then,” Chuuya breathed. “I got hard immediately. And you skimmed your fingers down my chest and you touched me . . . briefly.”
Atsushi’s fingers danced along his collarbone, down his sternum, and he could feel that electric touch though his clothes. He took in a sharp breath as Atsushi pressed a hand between his legs. It lasted a moment before he withdrew.
“And then you fucking left me there. I thought about it for the rest of the damn day. I couldn’t concentrate, all I could feel was your hand on my dick, and when you came by later that night, I would have fucking begged you if you asked me to.”
“You didn’t beg me,” Dazai scoffed. He crossed his legs, looking slightly uncomfortable, and Chuuya wondered if he was enjoying the show. “You were just as obstinate as ever. What next, Chuu?”
“Yeah, I let you waver outside in the hall for as long as I could,” Chuuya continued. Atsushi actually stepped out into the hallway, staring at Chuuya through the doorframe. He was trying to give that smarmy smile Dazai sometimes gave, that knowing grin, and it was damn cute. “Until I . . . caved.” He mimed opening the door again, and Atsushi walked inside, his shoulders back, his posture confident. Chuuya closed the door behind him, watching him again as he turned to face him. “We stared at each other for what felt like forever.” Atsushi’s eyes met his and he felt that same eagerness he had that night, just aching to be touched. “And you took my hands, and just . . . kissed me. So gently.”
Atsushi folded Chuuya’s hands in his own, bringing them to shoulder-level, and he leaned down, brushing his lips against Chuuya’s. Their mouths knew how to fit together, even though Chuuya remembered with Dazai it had been clumsy, sticky, their noses bumping constantly as they broke for air. Chuuya leaned into it as he had into Dazai that night, following Atsushi’s lead, remembering the novel newness, that spark, that itch finally being scratched.
“You undressed me then,” Chuuya whispered against Atsushi’s lips. “We . . . undressed one-another. You unbuttoned my shirt and I did the same to you, and . . .” Atsushi’s fingers made for his vest, his shirt, opening them to expose his chest, and Chuuya unknotted Atsushi’s tie, thinking it was funny that this was the same type Dazai used to wear, so was the collared shirt, though not the suspenders. “And then our belts, too. We both knew what we were here for, we both wanted it.”
He could feel that ache as he drew his hand down Atsushi’s bare chest, and Atsushi followed his movement, hesitating as he reached Chuuya’s navel. Chuuya swallowed.
“Dazai just grabbed me,” he admitted. “I didn’t even have time to process that it was about to happen. Full hand, palm flat against me, fingers teasing me, just rubbing.” Atsushi took a beat before he followed the instruction, his hand sliding beneath Chuuya’s waistband, reaching into the pocket of his boxer briefs, and Chuuya shuddered as a bare palm pressed against his dick, fingers sliding up and down his shaft. He exhaled, savoring the sensation. “I didn’t have the wherewithal to touch him back. I barely lasted a minute,” he admitted, tilting his head back. “I was gone. God, Atsushi, that feels good,” he sighed. “But I’m not . . .”
“I know, you said,” Atsushi replied. But he didn’t stop, his hand still pressing, still stroking. It was electric, those signals traveling up his spine.
“Like I said,” Dazai said quietly, “Atsushi knows how to touch you. And you are sensitive . . . just not there.”
Chuuya closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. He felt the heat of Atsushi’s skin as he stepped closer, the chill as a second hand tucked under his waistband, skimming across his ass, drawing goosebumps along his flesh. Years ago, Dazai had not known at all how to touch him. But after the first night of them both being hypersensitive, Dazai had poked and prodded him to find what made him squirm: it was Dazai’s specialty. And Atsushi had the advantage of those years of research, a cheat code, a road map to Chuuya’s erogenous zones.
Atsushi ran a finger close to his entrance and he whimpered. Fuck, he didn’t think this would have an effect like this; but he was aching.
“Do you want me to?” Atsushi whispered. “It will take more than a minute, though.”
“Yeah,” Chuuya breathed. “Yes.”
He relaxed and tried to keep himself from clenching as Atsushi carefully pressed a finger inside him, followed by a second. Chuuya moaned, and he nearly forgot where he was, who was touching him, all he knew was that he wanted more and now. Lips fell onto his and then made their way onto his cheek, onto his neck, and he felt a nudging under his choker. He gasped.
“No —” Chuuya pulled away for a moment. “Not yet. The choker . . . I’ll get to that later.”
“Are you still bitter over that?” Dazai teased.
“Shut up,” Chuuya spat, but he didn’t have the capacity for a comeback. “You got lucky.”
“You got lucky,” Dazai replied with a shrug. “Be a little louder, Chuu, I can’t hear you over here. Make that sound I love.”
“Shut up!” Chuuya said again, his voice changing pitch as he rocked against Atsushi’s hand, as fingers pressed inside him. He cried out, his hands clenching on Atsushi’s shoulders, trying to moan in the way Dazai liked, higher and softer, and he gripped Atsushi’s shirt as he headed over the edge, his voice almost like a sob.
As his sense returned, he felt messy and exposed . . . similar to how he felt after Dazai made him come the first time. So he supposed it was authentic enough.
Atsushi met his eyes, the duotone ones in the younger man bright and hungry. As Chuuya recognized an underlying lust, Atsushi sported that wicked grin, channeling Dazai.
“What happened next?” Atsushi asked eagerly.
Chuuya grinned back.
“Hang on,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t think I let Dazai get away like that. The second I could think again, I grabbed him right back.”
Atsushi’s eyes widened in surprise and he took a short, sharp breath as Chuuya shoved his hand down Atsushi’s pants. It was inelegant and crass, but Chuuya still remembered how Dazai had been overcome, that arrogant expression gone in an instant as his dick twitched in Chuuya’s hand. Atsushi was hard, too, though not as hard as Dazai had been that night. Dazai had thoroughly enjoyed watching Chuuya unravel, and it had awoken in him a previously unknown sexual appetite. And that had awoken something in Chuuya in return.
“What was it like for you, Daz?” Chuuya asked.
He positioned himself the way he had that night, his other hand clamped on Atsushi’s waist, leaning away from him so he could see his face. He held Atsushi gently in his fingers, laying them around him, running his thumb over his tip — this was how Atsushi liked it. With Dazai, he had been absolutely careless and probably actually hurt him.
“Hmmm you did pinch me a couple of times,” Dazai hummed from the bed. He shifted again, likely getting aroused from watching his partners. “But I liked the pain. It was unexpected. The whole . . . the whole thing was. I didn’t know someone else’s hand on me would feel so different, so . . . surprising. To be perfectly frank, I hadn’t expected you to make me come. I hadn’t expected to want to.” He sighed putting his head in his hand, an odd expression on his face. “My whole goal that night was to control you, to make you mine,” Dazai confessed. “I doubt you’re surprised about that.”
“Not really,” Chuuya said, though there was a small pang in his gut. “You were trying to make me your slave since we met. Makes sense this was another tactic.”
“And, you know, I was curious about sex, I guess,” Dazai shrugged. “But once you touched me . . . my mind shut off. That silence was blissful. All I felt was you. And it was . . . nice. How was it on your end?”
“I . . . had no idea,” Chuuya breathed, “the satisfaction, the want . . . I’d spent so long being manipulated by you, bending to your word . . . and here you were under my hand, leaning into me, with that look on your face of complete ecstasy . . . I wanted to touch you forever.” Chuuya shifted his gaze to Atsushi, who was similarly lost in ecstasy. He laid his fingers one at a time around Atsushi’s cock, holding it gently, stroking it slow, and Atsushi fell onto him, holding him. “I liked the feel of that muscle, that smooth and strong skin. The way you twitched . . . and got harder. I . . . I knew I liked guys. But that was the first moment I realized I liked dicks. I wanted to feel it with every part of me. I wanted to taste it.”
“Did you?” Atsushi breathed.
“No,” Dazai said regretfully. “We didn’t get around to that quite yet.”
“I can if you want, though,” Chuuya whispered. “I like tasting you, too, Atsushi.”
Atsushi made a small noise of want, but shook his head.
“No, I . . . want it to be accurate,” he said. “Your hand is . . . I like your hand just fine.” His last word cut off as Chuuya pressed his fingers into his base, caressing the skin between his legs.
“I think he only lasted a few minutes,” Chuuya said quietly. “Do you want to last longer? Or should I . . .?”
Atsushi moaned into his shoulder, gripping his shirt.
“I want to be touched by you forever,” he echoed.
Chuuya chuckled and kissed his forehead, slowing his stroke. He let go for a moment and actually tugged down Atsushi’s pants so he could get a better grip and used both his hands, one pressing into the base of his cock, the other giving long, full pulls. Atsushi shook against him and hot breath fell on his neck, getting louder and more frequent, until he couldn’t hang on any longer and Chuuya felt something warm spill into his hands. Atsushi was much more in control than he used to be, and was certainly more practiced than he or Dazai had been: they both had made an absolute mess of themselves.
“I hadn’t even prepared any towels or anything,” Chuuya reflected, and he handed Atsushi one from the bed, grabbing a second for himself. “I was so stupid. Our clothes were ruined. So . . . we, uh, took them off.”
Atsushi held up a hand, signaling for a moment before he started stripping, peeling off his clothes. Chuuya followed suit, but paused when he saw Dazai stand up from the bed and start to undress as well.
“Is it alright if we switch, Chuu?” he asked. “Atsushi can be you for the next bit, and I’ll get a turn to tease him.”
He slid his bolo tie down and put it aside, his fingers making fast work of his buttons, slowly revealing the bandaged chest underneath. The night in question, Chuuya remembered shedding his own clothes without a thought; Dazai had actually already seen him bare, in the lab, and he had never really been self-conscious or shy about his own nudity. But he watched Dazai’s shirt come off, watched his pants slide down his hips, curious to know where the bandages ended, if they ended. There were less than he’d thought, folded just under his arms, but he hadn’t expected a second set to be haphazardly wrapped around Dazai’s thighs. He’d felt a lurch of empathy, knowing at once what kind of scars Dazai was hiding, but wondered exactly who he was hiding them from.
“Sure,” Chuuya replied.
He stripped all the same and gave Dazai a quick kiss as he passed. Then he sat himself on the bed cross-legged, taking up the voyeur position and observing his boyfriends. The bandages were still a little bit ridiculous, but nowadays Dazai was mostly covering the bad scars, the ones he didn’t want to see himself, the ones that still occasionally opened. His legs today were almost bare, and Chuuya could see the feathered lines up his thighs, the skin puckered and slightly paler than the rest of him. Despite their close call last week, there was nothing recent. A good sign.
“I think we both kind of knew we’d have to wait,” Chuuya continued, trying to focus. “But you weren’t satisfied yet.”
“Nope,” Dazai said happily. “I would have picked you up if I could. I wasn’t much taller than him at the time, though, Atsushi. Instead I just pulled you over to the bed. You didn’t resist.”
Chuuya watched as Dazai took Atsushi’s arm and steered him towards the bed, pushing him onto the mattress. He remembered that Dazai hadn’t climbed on top of him right away, they had actually lain side-by-side, waiting, staring at the ceiling, their fingers barely brushing the others’ skin, just enough to know the other was still there, refusing to acknowledge what had just happened, unable to articulate their desire. And Dazai hadn’t asked if he was ready again, he’d just kind of intuited, and suddenly Chuuya had felt movement on the mattress and found Dazai’s bandaged thighs trapping his hips.
Atsushi lay flat on his back, holding still as Dazai straddled him, his breath bated.
“You . . . pulled my arms over my head, pinning me,” Chuuya sighed, and Dazai took Atsushi’s wrists and slid them above his head. Chuuya remembered being terrified and wanting, so sure this was all a dream, only he didn’t dream. “And you said . . .”
“What kind of foreplay do you like, slug?” Dazai mimicked his teenage self perfectly, though he was less enthusiastic than he had been. “And you just gaped at me, and then you snapped back —“
“I’m surprised you even know what foreplay is,” Chuuya echoed. “I guess I expected you to be a selfish lover. But . . .” He blushed prematurely before the next recall of what Dazai said. “You had a planned response. I want you to mewl like a cat in heat when I fuck you.”
Atsushi took in an audible breath beneath Dazai, looking a little distressed.
“Did you really say that?” he said quietly.
“Oh yeah,” Dazai hummed. “I was a little shit. I think I was trying to scare him because I didn’t know how to flirt otherwise. I said, Chuuya’s so annoying, making me guess. So I just started sucking on parts of his skin randomly. I made a fairly lucky guess.” He leaned into Atsushi’s ear. “You don’t have to make any sounds for me, Atsushi. Though I do like the way you moan, too.”
He started biting up Atsushi’s body, leaving small bruises in his wake, and Atsushi did start to squirm under him, just as Chuuya had.
“I tried not to,” Chuuya started, adjusting his choker. “But I was so hopeless. Him touching me was driving me up the wall. And that’s when . . .”
“I noticed Chuu was still wearing his choker,” Dazai said quietly. “And I took the liberty of taking it off. It’s not like the skin underneath was any different, but . . . there was something about his bare neck that felt intimate. Vulnerable. Mine.” Dazai lowered his mouth to Atsushi’s neck, brushing against it lightly. “So I put my lips on his neck and . . .”
Dazai reached Atsushi’s neck and bit it gently, sucking on it slow, running his tongue afterwards around the welt. Atsushi took in a sharp breath and a small noise escaped him, lovely and melodic.
“It just came out of my throat,” Chuuya said softly. “It didn’t sound human, the sounds I made. I couldn’t help it, and you were so fucking smug about it. You doubled down on my neck, just kissing and kissing, and I . . . don’t remember too much after that.”
Dazai gave a small chuckle. “It was just like this, Atsushi,” he said. He pressed his body against the younger man’s, and Atsushi let out a few noises. “Just touching, grinding against each other. No penetration, not the first time. You don’t remember what we did, Chuu?”
“I just remember being horrified with myself,” Chuuya said quietly. “At how needy I was. And a little bit afraid of you, that you got what you wanted out of me so easily. And the rest . . . it was just . . . a blur of want.”
“With you all cute and wriggling under me, I was pretty turned on,” Dazai said quietly, and he pressed his hips into Atsushi, and now Atsushi actually moaned. “Hard as a rock. So were you, Chuu. And so are you, Atsushi.” He grinned and shifted his grip. “Are you ready, love?”
Atsushi nodded, his breath staggered, audible, and the memory came back to Chuuya as he watched them. Dazai ground his hips against their partner, their erections pressed together, his hand between them to adjust and make sure they stayed against each other. Atsushi pushed back, rocking into him, lifting his hips off the bed. Chuuya’s blood flowed south, his own hand tracing at his collarbone and slowly making its way down his chest and legs.
“Now I remember,” he whispered. “We just . . . when we were hard against each other, that friction was like . . . a firework. And he crashed into me, again and again . . . just flooding me. You were so warm, Dazai,” he groaned. “I wanted you so badly. I couldn’t stop, I didn’t want to stop. Fuck.”
The last expletive came out of him in a breath as he slid his hand across his thigh and grasped his dick. Dazai moved faster into Atsushi, his eyes mostly on the man beneath him, but occasionally flickering up to meet Chuuya’s gaze, his face knowing, grinning, and Chuuya held himself more firmly as Dazai’s expression wavered, as he became overwhelmed, as Atsushi beneath him bucked desperately against him, his cries loud in the dark bedroom, and the two of them shuddered against each other, coming together.
They caught their breath for a moment, arms wrapped around each other, before disentangling and moving to clean up. Chuuya was still floating, his head void of blood, of thought. Dazai’s eyes met Chuuya’s once more, that knowing gaze.
“Hard as a rock,” Dazai mouthed.
“Chuuya, do you want us to . . .?” Atsushi started.
Chuuya inhaled sharply, bringing his hand back up to his sternum.
“Yeah, alright,” he said quietly.
He shut his eyes and felt two sets of arms wrap around him, two hands run down his chest and grab him, Dazai’s lips kissing his, Atsushi’s mouth nipping at his choker. He leaned into their embrace, onto their shoulders and their chests, his fingers knotting in their hair and squeezing their arms, his mouth occupied with either kissing someone or moaning loudly, there was breath beating on his ear and neck and back, and he was tangled in a sea of want and warmth as those hands stroked him over and over, one after the other, wave after wave crashing over him until finally he came. More hands cradled his face and more lips kissed him as he took a breath and opened his eyes to both of his partners, all of them sharing in this experience.
“He really is beautiful,” Dazai said, petting Chuuya’s hair and talking over his head. “Isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Atsushi agreed. “I’m so sorry, Chuuya, but . . . you really do look pretty when you’re . . . coming undone.”
Chuuya groaned.
“Dazai, what have you done to my sweet boyfriend?” He sighed. “I already have one asshole partner.”
“You know you like it,” Dazai hummed. “You kept coming back to me.”
Chuuya snorted. “That’s generous. You kept coming back here, actually.”
He leaned into Dazai’s chest for a moment, taking in that familiar scent, still the same after all these years no matter what clothes or persona he wore. Atsushi slid down to lay his head across both their laps, and Chuuya played with Atsushi’s hair as Dazai combed through his.
“What happened after?” Atsushi started. “Did you stay the night, Dazai? Or, erm. Did you go back to . . . being mean?”
Both Dazai and Chuuya gave a small laugh.
“I have to tell you, Atsushi, I don’t remember,” Chuuya started with a sigh. “I just . . . I felt weird. Disgusted with myself, but . . . this was what I had wanted. I thought I’d be up all night with the anxiety, but I passed the fuck out.”
“Really?” Dazai pouted. “I did stay, Chuu. I also passed out. To be fair, I did get up early and leave, I didn’t want you to see me in the morning. But I watched you for a few minutes . . . I thought you were really cute when you were unconscious, when you weren’t talking.”
Chuuya frowned but didn’t say anything. Instead he leaned into Dazai’s fingers dragging through his hair, trying to recall if he felt it that night, the lingering phantom touch of someone combing his bangs behind his ear. He thought it might have happened, that Dazai had shown his first signs of affection.
“So you were just . . . together after that?” Atsushi started. “Erm. After this, I guess?”
“Together’s a way to put it,” Dazai chimed. “We were partners in the sexual sense. And at work Mori was pushing us to become partners in a different sense. The overlap was . . . difficult to manage.”
“It was bad,” Chuuya said, a laugh overcoming him. “Like a fucking switch. It was like we were . . . well, I guess we were hormonal teenagers. For a while, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Daz was back here the next day with lube and some . . . exploratory ambitions.”
“Penetration this time,” Dazai said bluntly. “Needless to say that was a process.”
“And we just . . . kept . . . we tried a lot of things,” Chuuya added.
“I came over every night I could,” Dazai continued. “And got a bit handsy when I could get away with it at work.”
“Even when we couldn’t,” Chuuya corrected sharply. “Don’t be dense, Dazai. We got caught half a dozen times. Kouyou got so fucking mad at me . . . she gave me a stern talking-to. She thought he was taking advantage of me.” He sighed, curling Atsushi’s hair around his fingers. “It was kinda the opposite. I didn’t realize it until later, but Daz . . . he was actually desperate. He was willing to do anything I wanted if it meant he could touch me again. Even though he acted like everything was always his idea.”
“I didn’t expect to actually enjoy sex with you,” Dazai shrugged. “I wanted to play.”
“Yeah, I was your new favorite toy,” Chuuya said numbly. “After the first night I said that if you wanted to fuck me in the ass, you had to buy me flowers first. And you did. Roses. I thought you were being a little shit, but . . . I let you do it anyway.” He swallowed. “Anyway, we spent nearly every night together. And eventually he more or less just started sleeping at mine, and . . . I dunno when you first said something genuinely nice to me. But . . . after a time, you just kinda . . . became something more than sex. You were my partner. You are my partner.” He kissed Atsushi’s forehead. “You’re both my partners.”
“How was all of that for you, Atsushi?” Dazai asked.
“Yeah,” Chuuya echoed. “I’m kinda glad you didn’t get to actually experience Dazai in his . . . asshole era.”
“It made some things make sense,” Atsushi said. “I think I understand some more things about you both. I’m . . . really glad you made my first time so comfortable. Thank you for doing this for me.”
“Thank you for not being put-off by how . . . antagonistic we were,” Chuuya sighed. “You really do make us both . . . nicer. At least to each other.”
“Yes, it’s terrible,” Dazai said, sticking out his tongue. “Teasing Chuuya is so fun.”
“Sorry,” Atsushi replied, but he had a little smirk. “What about your first, like, date? Can you tell me about that?”
“Sure,” Dazai replied. He gently lifted Atsushi off him and shifted off the bed, stretching his arms above his head. “But we can discuss this over dinner. All this took longer than I thought. I’ll order us something to eat.”
Chuuya nearly laughed.
“Dazai, offering to pay for dinner,” he mused, “that’s definitely a new experience for all of us.”