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"Do you know how the hell these things work?" Chuuya asks from the chair in the hotel room. Tasked with shutting down a nearby organization with Dazai, they'd been given a range of items that were all spread out on one of the beds. He'd been rifling through them all until he wandered across a pair of handcuffs and managed to get his wrists stuck.
The key was somewhere else and he didn't have the pin in his hair that he normally did to lockpick. Dazai stole it earlier to make a point and it had vanished somewhere between his hand and the hotel carpet- it was sure as hell gone.
The two were finally old enough to be trusted to go on solo missions up a city or two. Chuuya celebrated this fact two months ago with the bottle of wine that currently chills in their hotel minifridge. He had to wait for Dazai to catch up before they could really leave. Being 51 days older was a heavy burden and he made sure that his partner knew how annoying it was to wait.
"Dazai, I'm talking to you." Insistent, he snaps his head over to the other bed where the man was laying. He looked half-exhausted and they hadn't done anything but a three hour train ride.
"Yeah yeah.. sure." Dazai mumbles, chewing on a half-bitten pocky stick as he curls sideways on the bed. "Just break it, y'know?"
"You didn't even look up. How do you know what I'm asking?"
"You've gotten yourself stuck in handcuffs. Idiot." Rolling onto his other side so he doesn't have to face him, Dazai's eyes glue to a news article about the newest spots in the area that were famous for ghost hauntings... and suicides.
All until a hand snaps down to tear it out of Dazai's hands.
"You're supposed to help me with shit, remember?" Tossing the phone sideways, Chuuya's bound wrists replace the distraction. Out they stick in front of him. The jangle of the chain practically implores the mafioso for help.
Dazai looks at his empty hands... and then the phone which hit the wall and bounced off to land in a decorative plant... and then back at Chuuya. The redhead doesn't look happy to be stuck. Honestly, what was he thinking? That Dazai wouldn't take this chance to make it worse? If so, he doesn't know him as well as he claims that he does.
So Dazai loops his fingers in the chain between the handcuffs and tugs.
The action slams both of Chuuya's wrists together and seems to elicit a yelp from him. He can't steady himself by shifting his feet- he knocks one right into the bed. Red floods around his figure as he activates his own ability to catch himself. That grin returns. "Ha, you-"
A sly hand tapping his nose has Chuuya slamming his knee into the side of the bed and half-falls into it. As soon as he gets himself figured out- damn his knee hurts- he lifts himself up on the surface with his bound hands and a sour expression.
Dazai sits with his back against the headboard, eyes all-too watchful as they shine with enjoyment from his failures. "I think chibi should wear cuffs all the time. They make you so easy to push around!" Just to prove the point, he tugs the chain again out of the blue. It forces Chuuya's hands forwards and briefly pin them above his head. The sound of him sputtering into the sheets was one that Dazai wanted to bottle.
So he does the next best thing.
Chuuya rises from the sheets- which were rather nice, he admits. The place was nice enough. But even that wasn't enough to distract him from the face that Dazai's making. Shifting his hands, he surges forwards to throw a punch. It's slowed and unbalanced, and Dazai manages to dodge it just briefly enough to direct his hands to catch that chain on one of the bedposts.
Twisting a moment later from a teasing laugh against the shell of his ear, Chuuya's wrists ache as he strains against the wood. "I despise you, Osamu Dazai." He curses his full name, it's full of venom.
Dazai, the man in question, was sitting beside him, taking in the way that every movement that he made- both trying to free himself and not break the cuffs kept him in check. Mori gave those cuffs out. It was the mafia's money- but really, Chuuya's own which would be spent. Who knows how much the boss would charge him for it? He knows that he didn’t want to find out.
"Awww, the dog's tied up! And he did it all by himself! What a shame that it can't connect to your collar... I'd be able to stop you from barking too!"
"It's a choker!" Chuuya responds with fury, rocking his head forwards- and hitting it against the wood when it falls back. "Fuck!"
Rolling his eyes, Dazai's eyes parse down his body. "We're gonna get another noise complaint." Clicking his tongue in disapproval, he reaches up to the weird tie that Chuuya's been wearing. Untying it with a smooth motion, he throws it sideways.
"You hate it?"
"I hate it."
A grunt of assent leaves Chuuya's lips. "Needed to hear how much it bothered you. Served its purpose. Ugh, I can't give you another thing to grab." "No you can't!" Cheerfully, Dazai traces the dip in his collarbone and watches him stiffen. "I wonder how long it'll take you to break the handcuffs or the bedpost. Should we find out? It'll come out of your wallet! And as an executive... well, I'm sure the recent promotion means you can't afford it, unlike me, who's been saving for years!"
It's been grating on him, Chuuya notices. All his comments about being older. They'd reached a breaking point- Dazai thought himself different from him. Not better across the board but different... although definitely better in some ways. He analyzes the way that Dazai's skin seems to bristle, where tension is held where he knows the Demon Prodigy expects himself to have none. It's something he's picked up. Hell, he might be the only one who can read him.
"You're thinking," Dazai comments, wrinkling his nose. "Really? You don't think most of the day and you have to think now?"
"Yeah, just thinking about how to get you back for this little stunt." Flashing a fox-toothed grin, Chuuya's mouth curls on both ends as he allows the thought to permeate through his mind. It was delicious.
"You weren't, but okay."
"How the hell do you know that?"
"Because you'd be smiling like I'm already dead."
Fair point. Chuuya forces his face into a scowl and tilts his head down to nod at Dazai's hand. It had been wandering absently against his vest, invested in the lack of objects in his breast pocket and now tugging the fabric down enough to show the edge of a large scar.
Dazai delights in it as he swings a leg around his waist and fits himself in his lap. He knows they both hate the way that they perfectly fit here.
As if on cue, Chuuya's hips rock upwards against his own and a shuddering breath leaves his mouth. "Either get off me or get off with me."
"Oh so kind." Dazai teases back, responding with a grind of his own. "So you're only amenable when you're getting your dick treated?"
The response is one he wants: the handcuffs tighten around the wooden pole and the tension nearly causes the redhead's wrists to bleed.
"You desperately want to get out of those, hm?" Dazai's head lowers to face Chuuya's. With free hands, he fists one against the back of his head and uses the other to slide up under his shirt. "Too bad."
Muscles tense underneath the arms of his blazer and Chuuya's back arches with the diverted force. Panting and puffing air as his hips rut up against Dazai's, he can barely keep himself from using force to free his hands and fit them on his hips. "What the fuck are they made out of?"
"Material that can resist people who train an insane amount like you. They're not ordinary handcuffs, don't you know? Oh..." Brown eyes light up in another layer of amusement as Dazai controls his hips, only responding when he wants to make Chuuya suffer under him. "I could use everything in that bag to try and control you. You’d be interested in this: the rest of the executives fear you. I’m sure you know?"
Panting, Chuuya's blue eyes lock onto his. He knows this is true, he won't dare to interrupt him- he needs this information.
"Good dog. You're listening." Dazai's hips grind down as he continues speaking. "They worry you'll get too powerful for me to control. The tools in that bag are for the mission, yes, but they're also for my own use- which is complete.. ha- bullshit."
Biting his tongue until he draws blood to stop himself from groaning, Chuuya feels his nose wrinkling in annoyance. It was odd, his anger mixing with the arousal, but it just made rocking his hips up into Dazai's easier. "You wouldn't be able to stop me with those."
"You're entirely right!" Dazai sings. "I can stop you with my words or touch alone. They truly don't understand that I'm the most useful thing against you... ah, it's such a shame, but you'd get off on that, won't you?"
Showing his teeth, Chuuya groans through his next words. "If they're really the smartest-"
"They believe me, but they've also seen what you can do, as have I. You know as well as I do that I don't have the same reaction to Arahabaki like most people do. I think... Chuuya..."
Fluttering eyes and curled fingers have the redhead hanging onto his every word. Nails dig into his palms and he feels tormented as he shoves his hips upwards with desperation.
"You're something splendid." Dazai kisses him with a bruising force. When they break, the look in his eyes darkens as he speaks into his mouth. "You're too beautiful for the world to comprehend, it's only me. It can only be me."
They had their problems. But they also had their solutions that were uniquely theirs. In some twisted way, this was the way they reaffirmed their trust. Chuuya is powerless just like he'd be in 7 hours from now, bloody from the battlefield and desperate for Dazai to care for him in this very room. Dazai would be the only human able to withstand the sheer power and see Chuuya for who he is–and also the sole person who could tell him he was still a man.
There was give and take. Dazai was the one who had to pick up after a supernova and Chuuya gave him trust that nobody else could ever have.
That care edged Chuuya to come with a shout and crack the chain on the cuffs. A sole chain where they'd been twisted against each other was yawning open, pulling itself apart under the pressure. Seconds later, Chuuya had his hands back. One was against the back of Dazai's neck and the other was rubbing him through his pants. Dazai laughs into his mouth when he's pulled down for another kiss. Yes, he teases him when he bites- "you came in your pants." As if he wasn't seconds away from doing the same thing- he swallows a choked sound when he does, needing to push his hand away as Chuuya edges him into overstimulation.
"You did too." He snorts.
"It's more embarrassing for you." Dazai says, as if his words were reality. For the two of them, they really seemed to be. "Clean up, we need to scope out the area soon."
Chuuya grunts and rubs his wrists. There were stark markings against his skin from the cuffs. Yet, in his fingers, he holds up the bobby pin that Dazai keeps on him, as if that was the whole point of the session all along.
"Oh, look at you." Dazai whistles lowly as he changes his underwear and cleans himself. "The pickpocket returned to his roots after losing the sole thing that he needed earlier today! It's almost like I planned the whole thing."
Away the cuffs fall to the ground as Chuuya makes a face from the feeling in his pants. "I don't believe it for a second. Here's the pin back."
It changes hands before Dazai drops it like it's on fire. "I don't want to touch that. It's been contaminated by your cooties!~"
"Fine. Have it your way. I'll get these on you next time and you'll suffer when I get my revenge." Chuuya grumbles.
"They'll be back on your hands before you know it."
They would be.
Aching, Chuuya finds that he can't argue as he dresses in his worst for the evening. He still can't figure out which one of them is the monster and which one is the man between them. A symptom of who they are, he supposes.
That's just how it is.