*droolz* uhm ok…how about a little masturbation voyeurism? mirror play? role play? all dat kinky shit, idk tyler n josh doin it
Tyler and Josh were sharing a hotel room and Tyler was taking a shower. Josh must not have heard the water shut off or something, but when Tyler opened the door, he seen Josh sprawled out on their bed. His underwear pushed down to his knees, head back against his pillow, eyes closed and mouth open. His expression seemed so angelic, despite the sinful things his hand was doing to his cock and the filthy way his muscles responded. Tyler stood there, stunned for a moment out of curiosity and something more. His gaze mainly focused on Josh’s lower half, as this was his first time seeing his best friend like this. Hand working his cock and hips bucking up, as if he’d done this a million times. Tyler could easily hear Josh’s breathless moans from where he stood, seeming to be pretty deep into his session and Ty didn’t want to rudely interrupt. Tyler felt something stiffen under the towel he had wrapped around his hips as he wondered what Josh thought about. As time slowed, it felt like the world had briefly stopped as Tyler was experiencing this majestic moment, but it was only a mere few seconds before Josh locked eyes with him, realizing there was a light coming from the bathroom that wasn’t there before. Josh gasped and stopped with a jolting motion as he tried to pull his underwear up to conceal himself, but it was far too late.
“oh..um…sorry.” was all Tyler could say before backtracking and shutting the door, allowing Josh some privacy and time to get re-situated. Tyler felt a stir of mixed feelings. Curiosity, being the most prevalent. But also amusement, guilt, and a general sense of excitement. Those were his emotions though, his body had different ideas, judging from his erection jutting through the towel. He leaned against the sink on his hands, looking at his face in the mirror and mouthing the words “holy fuck”. He had no idea what to do. If he didn’t get rid of his erection, Josh would know. But if he stayed in the bathroom too long after he was obviously done showering, Josh would know.
Tyler turned on the water and got ready to brush his teeth. He thought of everything in the book to get rid of his hard on, but nothing seemed to work, the image refusing to leave his mind. After brushing his teeth, he sighed and unwrapped the towel from his hips and leaned against the sink, wrapping his hand around his cock and giving an experimental tug. He bit his lip to keep from moaning and swiped at the pre-cum at his tip, sighing as he twisted and pulled the only way he knew how. He reached down with his other hand to gently tug on his balls. It felt right, touching himself like this while his friend was just on the other side of the door doing the same thing minutes before. He wondered if Josh was taking this time alone to finish what he was doing, or if he was too embarrassed. That’s where the guilt came in, because he really didn’t want him to feel bad about it.
“Um…Tyler? Are you okay in there?” Josh asked after a moment. His voice was deep and clear, it was obvious he was right up to the door. Tyler’s breath hitched, and he slowed down, trying to stabilize his breathing so he’d sound normal.
“Y..eah, just a minute!” Tyler managed, cringing at the obvious arousal and nervousness dripping from his voice. He considered taking his hand off his cock, stopping altogether out of shame, but it just felt so damn good. And he was so close. Josh’s voice on the other end wasn’t helping, in fact, it was adding an element of taboo and excitement. His mouth dropped open and head fell helplessly back as his hand carried out the motions on his slick cock.
On the other side, Josh was grinning wide. He knew exactly what was going on. He could feel Tyler’s presence before he met his gaze, but dragged it on just a little bit longer to put on a show. When Tyler was in the shower, Josh couldn’t keep his mind off his friend just feet away. All tan and naked with water cascading down his tight little frame. He’s seen him naked before, and that image is how his hand ended up in his underwear, and how they ended up around his knees. His little experiment worked, and he knew what Tyler was feeling now.
“Can I help?” Josh simply asked. Tyler shivered at his suggestive tone.
“Wh…what?” Tyler asked, still in denial at what was happening.
“C’mon Ty, let me in. It’s okay, we’re friends.” Josh said, his voice soothing. That was his best friend outside the door, how was he not to trust him.
“Ok.” Was all Tyler said in a small, unsure voice before unlocking and opening the door to Josh, who immediately stepped in and wrapped Tyler in his arms. Tyler’s eyes widened at the physical contact as he was still stark naked and hard. In fact, there was no way Josh couldn’t feel the way Tyler’s cock was obscenely pressed into his hip, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Tyler blushed as Josh finally pulled away to face him and look down. All he felt was love and acceptance.
“Is it ok if I….” Josh began to ask, looking back up at Tyler’s face in hopes he’d understand without having to finish the sentence. Tyler nodded, staring into his eyes and feeling an overwhelming urgency mixed with a little fear, his heart pounded faster.
“Please.” Tyler whispered, nodding before realizing it. All fear and uncertainty melted away as his cock was enveloped in the strong, warm embrace of Josh’s hand. Josh looked to Tyler’s face for approval before continuing to expertly work him the way he just was on himself earlier. Tyler nodded, muttering “yes yes, more Josh, please.” In the heat of passion, Josh attacked his neck, kissing him like he’s wanted to for so long. Delicious moans and exhales fell from Tyler’s lips in a steady stream as Josh drank him in, licking and sucking at his warm skin. Tyler leaned his head back, allowing him easier access. He pulled back up, staring at Josh’s lips with lust as Josh met him in what he’d describe as years of pent up affection. All awkward tongues fighting for dominance, eventually subsiding into the most elegant dance that was trance-inducing. Josh’s hand slowed down considerably by the distraction, until Tyler started rutting in search of friction.
“Fuck me.” Tyler breathed absentmindedly, primal urges taking over. Josh looked at him in a mix of confusion and shock. Tyler wasn’t one to cuss, but now he was saying to fuck him? He was seeing a side to Tyler that he never knew existed, and it was so hot.
“Turn around.” Josh growled. Tyler whimpered at the order and obeyed naturally, turning towards the sink and baring his ass to Josh, who immediately took to cupping it like he always wanted to. He took a moment to just play with him, squeezing, lightly smacking and spreading his cheeks. Tyler groaned at the new stimulation he was receiving, wanting to shrink away and receive more at the same time. It was a new, confusing feeling for him, being this exposed and vulnerable. He felt submissive, leaning forward further towards the mirror in a metaphorical attempt to say “take me”. He could see Josh behind him in the mirror, shirtless and looking really turned on with his bottom lip between his teeth.
Josh got on his knees and kissed each cheek, causing Tyler to giggle because it tickled kind of. Josh smirked when his giggling turned to moaning as he opened him up and licked into his hole for the first time. Josh was the one to laugh this time, kneading Tyler’s cheeks and tongue-fucking him until his legs were trembling and he was being held up by him. Josh inserted a pointer finger once he was sure Tyler was slick and ready. Tyler jolted, as it was a little less forgiving than Josh’s tongue, but he eventually relaxed enough for Josh to add one, even two more. Tyler was putty in his hands, a squirming and moaning mess as Josh thrusted, twisted, and wriggled his fingers inside Tyler.
“So gorgeous. Knew you were a bottom, baby boy.” Josh muttered. Tyler moaned in response, blushing and easily slipping into his role. Josh had him so whipped.
“Yes daddy, just for you. Fuck me, please.” Tyler begged, shocking himself. Josh held onto Tyler’s hip, kissing up Tyler’s spine as he slowly stood up. Tyler fucked himself back on the three fingers, gasping when Josh pulled out to wrap his arms around Tyler’s small body. He grinned at Tyler’s reflection in the mirror, kissing up his neck.
“Hm. Since you asked nicely.” Josh faked nonchalance, pulling his briefs off and leaning over Tyler’s back while guiding his cock to his hole. Tyler felt himself being pushed forward by the stronger man’s body as Josh began to sink into his entrance. It burned, but once Josh was fully inside him with both hands braced on the sink, he was given a moment to adjust. Josh rested inside him like that, leaning further down to lick and bite at the skin he could reach on his back.
“Touch yourself.” Josh spoke, as if reading his mind. Josh waited until he seen Tyler wrap a hand around himself and began moving it up and down before pulling his hips back. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, hissing at how unbelievably warm and tight he was. Tyler cried out in response, never feeling this full as he’s only ever used his fingers. Josh continued thrusting, starting out slow and deep then working up to a faster rhythm.
Tyler closed his eyes, holding himself up the best he could as Josh literally pounded his ass, hips slapping against skin. Nothing but moans filled the bathroom as he focused on the feeling, Josh’s cock hitting all the right spots inside him. He opened his eyes for a split second and caught a glimpse of Josh’s face in the mirror, all focused and looking down, licking his lips and making the most ungodly sex faces.
“Ohh my god Josh I’m gonna cum.” Tyler warned, speeding up his hand on his cock. Josh continued grinding into his ass more deliberately and grabbed Tyler’s hips, pulling them back to meet him.
“Spill for me, Ty, I wanna see. I’m so close.” Josh cooed, squeezing his hips encouragingly. He was breathless, switching between studying Tyler’s face in the mirror and his body as he shook and slowly fell apart. When his moans got louder, Josh sped up his thrusts to try and match his orgasm. His eyes rolled back as he tried to hold it in, almost failing.
As soon as Tyler let out a convincing moan and tightened around him, Josh immediately let go with a grunt.
“Oh…fuck…” He cursed, digging fingers into Tyler’s hips with the intensity of the orgasm coursing through him making his knees go weak. Tyler shuddered as he felt Josh cum inside him right as he was finishing, extra sensitive and sore. He squeezed the rest of his cum out, letting it drip into a pool on the floor.
Josh smoothed his hand down Tyler’s chest and stomach before pulling out, causing him to whimper. Josh’s cum seeped out with it, adding more to the mess.
“Jeez man, we should probably take another shower and clean this up.” Josh suggested.
“Yeah.” Tyler laughed awkwardly, touching his hip and remembering why it felt bruised. He tried not to notice how hot Josh looked post-coitus, with his chest all flushed and sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Josh noticed Tyler was just as sexy, with glazed eyes and a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The way they both looked after fucking wasn’t too different after playing a show together.
“Maybe we should do that again.” Josh suggested again, trying to not sound desperate, but Tyler seemed completely approving of the idea. He wrapped his arms around Josh’s neck in a hug and Josh held him for a moment, pulling back only to place a firm kiss on his lips.
i’ll just stop it there. thanks for descending into sin with me
When Dazai first approaches Chuuya with another mission at the end of a long day of work, Chuuya is less than thrilled, but when the duo find themselves infiltrating a dance hall to track down a potential threat to the Port Mafia, Chuuya finds he enjoys himself more than he expected.
Notes: so this soukoku fic is a valentine’s day present for my beloved comrade @amarashii-am we talked about something like this back in like december I think, and I finally got around to writing it! I hope you enjoy it!
*****************************************************************************************************Chuuya stared up at the ceiling fan, watching light glint off its twirling blades as it spun back and forth in an unending loop, succeeding in doing nothing more than shoving stale air from one end of the room to another. After an exhausting, seemingly endless day of mafia business, Chuuya could relate to the ceaseless spinning of the ceiling fan more than he cared to admit. “It’s been a long day,” he said aloud to no one, leaning against the doorway as he watched the fan turn round and round. “But at least I’m home now.”
Home. Chuuya snorted at his own sentimentality. It was such a meaningless little word, and certainly not one that applied to this empty apartment that wasn’t even high enough to escape the miasmal stench of the port below.
Chuuya tore his gaze from the ceiling fan long enough to shrug off his overcoat and hang it by the door. He turned suddenly, giving the doorknob a quick twist to make sure it was locked. Assured, Chuuya crossed the room and threw open the French doors that led to the balcony. He had hoped the stifling heat of the summer day might have abated after sunset, but, much to his disappointment, the night air was no cooler than the inside of his apartment. With a sigh, Chuuya shut the doors again. He stared out at the city he had known all his life with lifeless eyes, one gloved hand pressed against the warm glass.
Chuuya whipped around, eyes narrowed. He was certain he had locked the door…
Dazai stood in the doorway, cradling a large, white dry-cleaning bag in his arms. “Oh, so you are home,” he said, meeting Chuuya’s eyes with a radiant smile that instantly put him on guard. “You didn’t leave headquarters very long ago- I wasn’t sure if you’d make it here before I did.”
“If you came here to make polite conversation, get the hell out,” Chuuya snapped. “If not, cut to the chase. I’m too tired to put up with your shit right now.”
Dazai glanced at his watch. “It’s barely a quarter to eight.” A teasing smile crossed his face. “But I guess small children like you get cranky when they miss naptime.”
“You’ll be taking a nap in the fuckin’ ground if you don’t shut the hell up.”
Dazai’s eyes widened. “Do you really mean it? Oh, Chuuya-” Dazai pretended to wipe away tears. “- I can’t believe you’d do something like this for me.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t be doing it for your sake, idiot. Especially because it’s your fault I’m so tired in the first place!”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Oh, yes the fuck it is!” Chuuya cried. “You’re the one who kept me up until four in the morning going over names for strategies. I tried to leave, like, five times, but you were all, ‘oh, but should we call this one ‘fake flowers deceit’ or ‘this whole thing is stupid, who names their strategies anyway when we could just number them and be done with this shit in five minutes’?”
Dazai chuckled. “I don’t recall that particular strategy.”
“Do you recall me telling you to say whatever you came here to say and get the fuck out of my house?” Chuuya retorted, crossing his arms. “Because every second you waste my time is another second closer to me kicking you in the nuts.”
“Oh, please,” Dazai scoffed. “You wouldn’t-” Dazai’s words melted away when he saw the fire in Chuuya’s eyes. He took a step back. “We have a mission.”
“Oh, fuck me.” Chuuya rubbed his temples and sighed. “What’s the mission, then?”
“We’ve gotten intel that a certain member of an enemy organization is going to be frequenting a local dance hall tonight,” Dazai said, his face clicking into the cold, serious expression he always wore when discussing missions. “We have to shadow him for the evening, see if he conducts any business at the dance hall.”
Chuuya’s eyes narrowed. “That’s all? Just a basic shadowing? Can’t you just send one of your subordinates to take care of it? What about the scrawny one with the jacket? Agukatawa, right? Or is it Aku… Akuguwa?”
“Akutagawa,” Dazai corrected. “And no, I can’t pawn this job off onto one of my subordinates. This mission was a direct order from Mori; he was very explicit that it should be the two of us and no one else.”
Chuuya sighed. “Fine.” He strode across the room and slung his coat over his shoulders. “Let’s go, then.”
It took all Chuuya’s restraint to keep from slapping the smile off Dazai’s face. “What?”
Dazai handed Chuuya the white bag. “Put this on first.”
Chuuya shot Dazai a quick scowl, then opened the bag to find a deep red silk dress. “Oh, hell no!” he cried, wadding up the dress and throwing it at Dazai. “Why don’t you put it on?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dazai scoffed, carefully straightening out the dress and folding it in half so its hem didn’t touch the ground. “It’s not my size.”
“I’m being ridiculous?” Chuuya crossed his arms. “I thought this was a stealth mission, Dazai. Why the fuck would I wear something like that if we’re shadowing someone?”
Dazai shrugged. “I’m just following Mori-san’s orders.”
“Oh, come on!” Chuuya rolled his eyes. “If you think I beleive for a second that Mori handed you that dress-”
“Well, I still had to go out and buy the dress,” Dazai admitted. “Mori-san doesn’t know your measurements as well as I do.”
“You know damn well what I mean!” Chuuya snapped. “What, did Mori-san say ‘you and Chuuya have a stealth mission today, so make sure to put him in a dress’?”
Dazai dug his cell phone out of his pocket and tossed it to Chuuya with a smirk. “If you’d like to give Mori-san a call and question his orders, be my guest.”
Chuuya grit his teeth. Dazai was probably bluffing, but even if he was, Mori wouldn’t appreciate receiving a call over something so trivial. “Never mind,” he snarled, thrusting the phone back at Dazai and snatching the dress out of his arms. “I’ll go shave my legs.”
“Chuuya…” Dazai’s voice was soft, barely audible over the sultry strains of tango music that permeated the dance hall. “Smile.”
Chuuya bared his teeth. “Why?” Even when he didn’t understand Dazai’s orders, Chuuya reluctantly followed them; that bandaged bastard was many things, but a poor strategist wasn’t one of them.
“We’re just two young lovers at a dance hall, remember?” Dazai intertwined his fingers with Chuuya’s, giving his hand a slight squeeze of admonishment as he reminded him of the cover they had assumed for their mission. “If you don’t look like you’re having a good time, you’ll end up calling attention to yourself.”
Chuuya flicked the red rose that was tucked behind his ear. “Yeah, I sure wouldn’t want to do anything that would call attention to myself.”
“Chuuya…” Dazai fell silent for a moment, staring at Chuuya with an inscrutable expression. “Is it really that hard for you to pretend to enjoy being around me?”
A snarky comeback was waiting on the tip of Chuuya’s tongue, but he was caught off-guard by the genuine tone of Dazai’s voice. “What do mean, waste of bandages?” he asked slowly. “Since when have you ever cared about whether or not I liked being around you?”
Dazai straightened his tie and avoided meeting Chuuya’s eyes. Rather than his usual dark suit, he was wearing a black vest over a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up around his elbows and matching slacks, the tie around his neck the same dark red as Chuuya’s dress. As much as Chuuya hated to admit it, Dazai did look nice in white; it brightened up his face and even made his sinister, dark eyes appear a little less conniving, as if he did occasionally have thoughts that weren’t directly related to making his partner suffer.
Dazai gave his tie one final pull, then grabbed Chuuya’s hand. “Never mind what I just said.” His words poured out in a rush. “Just smile.” Still holding Chuuya’s hand, Dazai led him out of the semi-darkness of the coat room and into the almost blinding brightness of the main hall.
Once Chuuya’s eyes adjusted to the light, he saw men and women in fancy clothing seated at small, ornate wire tables clustered around a raised platform, similar to a stage, closed off by heavy velvet curtains. A cursory glance at some of the women was enough for Chuuya to grudgingly confirm that the dress Dazai had chosen for him fit right in. Of course, he wasn’t going to admit that.
Chuuya flashed a radiant smile at Dazai. “Is this convincing enough? The last thing I’d want to was to do anything to make myself look conspicuous. Like, for example, if I was wearing a bright red dress-” Chuuya shot Dazai a pointed look. “-that would be pretty stupid.”
Dazai rolled his eyes. “Your dress isn’t bright red; that would’ve clashed with your hair. I made sure to get you something in a very tasteful shade of deep currant.”
Chuuya snorted. “Deep currant, my ass. I look like a stoplight.”
“Come on.” Dazai pulled Chuuya to the side for a moment as a waiter with a silver tray dashed by. Once the waiter passed, Dazai stepped forward, practically dragging Chuuya along behind him. “You look fine.”
Chuuya yanked his hand out of Dazai’s grasp, massaging his wrist where Dazai’s bony fingers had held onto him. “After all the trouble I went through to cram myself into this thing? I better look a lot more than fine, pal.”
The dance floor was elevated slightly, connected to the rest of the room by a short staircase consisting of three small, wooden stairs. Dazai placed one hand on the small of Chuuya’s back as they ascended the staircase side-by-side, pushing the curtain aside and holding it up so Chuuya could enter. On the other side of the curtain, the lights were softer, reminiscent of candelight, bathing the dancing couples in a delicate glow. An ensemble played on a small stage off to the side, and a woman with a voice like smoke crooned in another language. The almost subdued quality of the light, the swell of music, and the gentle pressure of Dazai’s hand on his back, made Chuuya feel as if he was walking into a dream. He could have stood there for hours, basking in the subtle glow of the moment, but Dazai had to open his mouth and drag Chuuya back down to reality.
“I got the dress in your size, so there shouldn’t have been much cramming involved,” Dazai murmured, his eyes scanning Chuuya’s body. “But, I guess it does look a little tight on you.” Dazai squeezed Chuuya’s ass. “Especially right here.” Chuuya gave an involuntary yelp, making Dazai laugh. “My, Chuuya, so noisy.” He leaned in close, his lips practically brushing against Chuuya’s ear. “We’re on a stealth mission, remember?”
“Then keep your hands off my ass, bastard!” Chuuya hissed, slapping Dazai’s hands away. “Besides, you’ve told me we’re on a stealth mission about a hundred fucking times, but you haven’t told me anything else, like, oh, I don’t know, the target’s name? Who we’re even supposed to be looking for?”
Daza’s eyes darted to the left, indicating an older gentleman in a tuxedo. “That’s him, the leader of Echo.”
Chuuya’s brow furrowed. “Echo? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Well, they haven’t really made any trouble for the Port Mafia yet,” Dazai murmured, letting his eyes linger on the target for a moment before casually shifting his gaze to a couple dancing nearby. “Echo is a foreign gifted organization that’s been making inroads in a few other cities in Japan. Mori-san suspects Yokohama may be their next target.” Dazai smiled down at Chuuya and straightened the rose in his hair. “That’s where we come in. Mori-san thought the Port Mafia should put its best foot forward, so to speak. If we catch him conducting any, ah, unsavory business, at this fine establishment-”
Chuuya cracked his knuckled, grinning. “Now we’re talking. Maybe this’ll be worth shaving my legs for after all.”
Dazai smirked. “The sacrifices we make for the Port Mafia.”
Chuuya’s eyes widened, darting back and forth as he tried to decide if anyone had overheard. Once he realized that the other patrons of the dance hall were too far away to have heard Dazai over the music, Chuuya turned on his partner with a snarl. “A little louder with that mafia talk next time- there might be some people here who didn’t catch that,” he hissed, poking Dazai’s chest.“You wanna give out our names and addresses while you’re at it? How about we strip naked, staple our wanted posters to our asses, and dance a fucking hula?”
Dazai tucked a lock of Chuuya’s hair behind his ear with an amused smile. “You’re so tense,” he whispered, his words warm and soft in Chuuya’s ear. “It wouldn’t kill you to calm down, you know.”
“Would it kill you to take our mission seriously?” Chuuya retorted. “Our target is within spitting distance, and you-”
Dazai looked mildly impressed. “You can spit that far?”
Chuuya snapped his fingers. “Focus! We need to keep our eyes on the targe-” His eyes slid to where the target had stood only to be met with empty space. “Wait, where did he-”
“By the stage,” Dazai breathed, carressing Chuuya’s cheek as an excuse to turn his face in the proper direction.
“Let’s go.” Chuuya took a step toward the target, but Dazai grabbed his wrist.
“Hold on,” Dazai whispered. “You can’t just go storming off like that. We need to blend in.”
Chuuya’s eyes narrowed. “What do you have in mind?”
Dazai gave Chuuya a dazzling smile and offered his hand. “Chuuya, may I have this dance?”
Chuuya blushed, mentally berating himself for blushing. “It’s just for the mission, you idiot,” he told himself. “It’s not like he really wants to dance with you.”
“What’s the matter?” asked Dazai, taking notice of Chuuya’s hesitation. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Don’t you know how to tango?”
Chuuya snarled and took Dazai’s hand, placing his other hand on Dazai’s waist. “Of course I know how to tango, you limp anus.”
The ensemble struck up a new piece at a faster tempo as the target began moving to the other side of the dance floor. Dazai gave Chuuya a smile that sent shivers down his spine. “We’ll see about that.” Dazai jerked Chuuya forward, but Chuuya trailed his hand down Dazai’s arm, grasping his fingertips as he spun outward and yanking suddenly, forcing Dazai to spill into Chuuya’s arms.
“What was that?” Chuuya murmured, fluttering his eyelashes. “I’m afraid I can’t hear you over the music, darling.” Chuuya could feel a smile threaten to crack his expertly applied lipstick; Dazai might be the big-shot executive able to call the shots when it came strategy, but if that graceless, linguine-limbed son-of-a-bitch thought he could out-dance Chuuya, he was sorely mistaken. Chuuya was in his element now, and he would savor every moment of it.
Chuuya trailed his fingertips along Dazai’s bandaged forearms so delicately that his partner shuddered before entwining his fingers with Dazai’s one at a time. Grinning, Chuuya placed his free hand on Dazai’s shoulder, gripping perhaps a bit tighter than strictly necessary, and led him forward, moving with fluid, graceful strides as Dazai scrambled to follow along. Dazai’s usual smug composure nowhere to be found. His eyes were wide, almost fearful, as Chuuya twirled, his fingertips barely touching Dazai’s, before lunging forward so their chests were pressed together, arching his neck up so he could savor the look on Dazai’s face.
“Where-” Although he had done little more than stand still and be yanked around, Dazai still sounded out of breath. “Where did you learn this?”
“Can’t I have a few secrets?” Chuuya purred. His hands traced the air near the sides of Dazai’s chest before alighting on his waist, using Dazai for stability as he lifted himself off the ground, stepping down so gently his high heels didn’t even click on the wooden floor. “Besides,” Chuuya added, plucking the rose out of his hair and putting it in Dazai’s mouth, which was hanging slightly open. “I think I like knowing something you don’t.” Chuuya crossed one leg in front of the other slowly, then swept his leg outward, kicking his foot into the air when it reached the end of its arc and seizing Dazai’s hand once more. “Just try not to slow me down too much.”
They danced for hours, always keeping the target within their line of sight, but as the night grew older, Chuuya found himself less and less preoccupied with the target and more and more focused on Dazai, on the placement of his hands, on the increasing elegance of his footwork, on the sharp gleam that came into his eyes when he was contemplated with a skill he had not yet mastered.
“He’s just using me for the mission,” Chuuya told himself as he leaned back into Dazai’s arms after a particularly dizzying twirl. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t use him for some pleasure of my own.”
For a few moments- the time Dazai attempted to spin and only avoided slapping the hat off an old woman’s head because Chuuya pulled him into a dip came to mind- Chuuya had so much fun that he could almost convince himself he and Dazai really were nothing more than a pair of young lovers in a dance hall, enjoying one another’s company without any thoughts of international gifted organizations or questions about who was using who.
Eventually, it got to a point where Chuuya suddenly realized he had neglected to look for the target for several minutes and, when he did look around, the man was nowhere to be found.
“Dazai!” Chuuya whispered, tugging Dazai’s sleeve. “The target, where is he?”
Dazai shrugged. “Who knows?” he said with a lazy smile.
“Who knows?!” Chuuya had to wring his hands to keep from wringing Dazai’s neck. “Damn it, Dazai, this is important! Trailing that man was our entire mission, and we have no idea where he went! He could be up to something right now, and we just let him slip through our fingers! If we can’t find him, our whole mission would be-” Chuuya’s eyes narrowed. “Are you laughing?”
“Laughing?” Dazai tried and failed to suppress a smile. “Of course not.”
“I should hope the fuck not!” Chuuya exclaimed, stomping his foot. Then, remembering that the target could possibly have allies nearby, he lowered his voice again. “There’s nothing funny about failing a mission.”
“No, no, there is nothing funny about failing a mission,” Dazai agreed, lips twitching. He covered his mouth with his hand but couldn’t camouflage a burst of laughter. “But this- this is hysterical!” Dazai laughed so hard tears began streaming down his face and he had to hold onto Chuuya’s shoulder for balance.
“Do I have to remind you that we just lost our target?” Chuuya snapped, shoving Dazai’s hand aside. “Whatever you’re thinking about can’t be funny enough to make up for the fact that we’re in danger of failing our mission!”
“Oh, Chuuya.” Chuuya couldn’t recall ever seeing Dazai look so amused. “There was never any mission.”
Chuuya was sure he had to have heard wrong. “Never any- what do you- you can’t be seriou-”
Dazai took Chuuya’s hand and gently raised it to his lips, planting a kiss on his knuckles. “I had a wonderful time tonight, Chuuya,” he whispered, a soft smile on his face and fragments of tears lingering in his eyes. “I hope we can do this again sometime.” With that, Dazai turned and exited through the curtain.
Chuuya could hear Dazai’s footsteps as he descended the stairs. “Bu-but I-” When the footsteps faded, Chuuya found his voice. “Hold the fuck on!” he cried, hiking up his dress so he could run faster. “What in the fresh hell do you mean, ‘there was never any mission’!? I shaved my fucking legs for this, you asshole!”