i'd like to order some soukoku seductive kissing please
From a vague business rivals au. Can we show a little discipline?
Dazai shouldn’t be there.
He shouldn’t have met with Chuuya in the first place, shouldn’t have asked him to go for drinks in that back-alley bar. He should have walked away from Nakahara Chuuya the moment Fukuzawa pointed to him and said that was who Dazai was negotiating business terms with. Mori could fuck himself anyways.
But the reason Dazai didn’t tell Fukuzawa that Kunikida would be better for the job was the exact reason he stood in Chuuya’s tiny kitchen now, with months of half-spun ideas making it hard to breathe. Dazai just couldn’t help but want to push his buttons, couldn’t stay away, just wanted to keep on pushing while that fine-boned face shattered with hundred emotions bright as broken glass.
Chuuya was a licking flame, alive in a way that reminded Dazai just how hollowed out his own insides were, and hell if he didn’t want Chuuya to burn him up.
“I hate you,” Chuuya was saying, casually swirling his glass, like announcing it would nullify the fact that he’d stood from the bar and said pointedly to Dazai that he was going home for better wine.
Chuuya took a sip, watching Dazai carefully over the rim, but Dazai was following the bob of his throat beneath the choker he wore.
“Clearly,” Dazai said, leaning against the counter. There were a few beaded drops of wine at the corner of Chuuya’s mouth. He really ought to leave. But Chuuya’s eyes were flashing indignant and Dazai just had to dig a little further under his skin.
He drank from the glass Chuuya had offered with open pride and a faint grin curling at his mouth. “That’s what the wine is about.” He titled his head and pushed away from the counter, taking a step towards Chuuya. “Is it poisoned? Maybe we should trade glasses.”
Chuuya narrowed his eyes, lips curling up to bare his teeth. “I poisoned both to get away from your miserable ass.”
“How stupid,” Dazai said. He took another step forward. For someone so slender, Chuuya seemed to bend the room to tilt in towards himself. Chuuya’s eyes widened. “Let me try yours,” Dazai said. His veins were singing at the rush of danger Chuuya’s flames offered.
“I hope you die,” Chuuya murmured. He tipped, so slightly, into Dazai’s space.
“Me too.” Dazai set his glass on the counter next to Chuuya and brushed a finger under his chin at the same time Chuuya rolled his eyes.
“Predictable,” Chuuya huffed, jaw moving against Dazai’s fingers. His skin was hot and his breath tickled Dazai’s cheek just as Dazai flicked his tongue across the droplets of wine at the corner of his mouth. Chuuya’s breath hitched.
“Definitely poisoned,” Dazai purred against Chuuya’s jaw. “Too late now.”
“Mmm,” Chuuya hummed. “For you, maybe.” His hands were empty and creeping up Dazai’s chest. Dazai hoped he didn’t feel his heart leaning too heavy against his ribs.
Chuuya turned at the same time Dazai did, blind and wine-stained and sharp-toothed.
It was a game and Dazai was going to lose. He just couldn’t help but want to drown. And burn. And shatter like Chuuya’s temper.
He curled a finger up underneath Chuuya’s choker and grinned into the shuddering breath Chuuya exhaled.