Work Text:
Despite many attempts at the contrary, Osamu Dazai remains alive. It’s as if his body simply refuses to take a simple death, to submit to anything. Against his better judgment, Dazai is not one to take things lying down. At least not when he can’t be in control-- which he frequently is.
“Very good.”
Dazai arches his back, huffing out a sharp breath through his nose. “That’s it.” The words are strained, muffled slightly into the back of his hand. Above him, Chuuya whines. Dazai’s fist tightens on the leash, tugging just slightly until Chuuya topples forward, forced to brace himself with arms on either side of Dazai’s head.
Like this, lying flat on his back, fully, willfully exposed, Dazai is caged in. Chuuya’s letting out sharp, harsh breaths with each thrust of his hips, breathing out little hitched gasps into Dazai’s neck. He’s shaking slightly, even as he fights to keep up a steady pace, nailing a pretty red dildo against Dazai’s insides as best as he can. It’s a little pathetic, a little endearing.
“Come on, puppy,” Dazai coos, hooking one leg around the Chuuya’s lower back, the other still splayed out haphazardly to the other side. “Faster. You can do it.” The rough leather of the harness feels grounding under Dazai’s calf, standing out dark and pretty against both of their skin. There’s a low buzzing in the air, evidence of the small vibrator held fast against Chuuya’s cunt by the straps of the harness, on the second highest setting, not enough to make Chuuya come but enough to make him desperate, grinding against his clit with each motion.
Chuuya makes a low sound in the back of his throat, as if he can’t decide whether to be pleased or patronized. The choker-- collar, really-- he wears isn’t his usual one. Gone is the plain black leather, now replaced with a deep red, silver spikes almost as long as Dazai’s finger sticking out around his neck. They shimmer as he moves, reflecting his sweat and the little purple bruises Dazai’s left across his collarbones. In the center, a shiny silver ring to clip the leash, and a small, bare tag with only the word Mackerel engraved in Dazai’s own handwriting.
With the hand not holding the leash tight to his chest, Dazai reaches up to tuck a sweaty lock of hair behind Chuuya’s ear. “I know you can do better than that, puppy. You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?” Dazai pats his cheek one condescendingly. It’s warm beneath his hand.
Chuuya growls something fierce, glaring at Dazai even as his hips move faster. “You-”
“Ah!” Dazai interrupts, tugging on Chuuya’s ear slightly, as if he’s a misbehaving child in need of scolding. “Bad dog. Don’t bark.”
He can see Chuuya bite his tongue, instead working his hips faster, harder. Everything is wet , slick spread over the insides of Dazai’s thighs, covering Chuuya’s own. Dazai’s already made a mess of them once, coming on Chuuya’s tongue before goading him into their current position, and it’s all over the sheets, stuck still on Chuuya’s face beneath his hand, even in his hair where it hangs around them.
Dazai slides his hand down the side of Chuuya’s neck to hook a finger in the collar, tugging slightly, careful to avoid the spikes. Chuuya’s breath hitches audibly, hips twitching out of their rhythm until Dazai clicks his tongue. “Ah-ah. Keep up, puppy.”
Another pitiful whine tears out of Chuuya, hiccuping when Dazai pulls a little harder on the collar, his grip on the leash still keeping Chuuya in place. It must be difficult, he thinks vaguely in the back of his mind, moaning softly when Chuuya hits a particularly good spot inside of him on the next thrust, to fuck into him when he’s held at an angle like that. But the thought quickly dissipates when Chuuya’s hips snap up into that spot again. He tenses slightly, clenching around the strap, pulling hard on the collar.
“Good boy,” Dazai grunts, rocking his hips up into Chuuya’s as best as he can, “So good, puppy.”
Chuuya moans, swiveling his hips to grind the head of the toy into Dazai. It presses the vibrator harder against his clit, and his arms falter, almost giving out before he catches himself. It makes Dazai snicker, tugging on the leash so Chuuya has to struggle to keep himself up.
“Feel good?” He says mockingly, ignoring the way his own voice is strained.
Chuuya only grunts in response, hips still grinding against Dazai’s.
“You’re making me feel so good , puppy,” Dazai purrs, watching as Chuuya’s expression pinches slightly, an involuntary whine drawing out of him. “So good,” He continues, “You gonna make me come, puppy?”
Chuuya nods, the motion jerky and desperate, hips pulling back to thrust into Dazai again. The movements are sloppy, uncoordinated and overzealous, but it’s cute , and Dazai grins, tugging at the collar again to watch the way Chuuya spasms a little, the leather pulling against his throat. He’s barely managing to grace off Dazai’s g-spot, too erratic and desperate to really do much more than ram the strap into him, but it marks Dazai moan and coo all the same, internally laughing at his dog’s fervid, jerky thrusts.
“Good boy,” Dazai coos again, “You gonna make me come? Yeah? Good dog.” He lets go of the leash momentarily, fumbling for the vibrator’s remote beside his head to turn the vibrator up. The sound of it buzzing away beneath the straps of the harness gets louder, and Chuuya keens high in his throat, arms finally giving up until he collapses onto Dazai’s chest. The hard points of his nipples brush against Dazai’s ribs, the sweat from his collarbones and underarms rubbing against Dazai’s skin. He wraps his hand around Chuuya’s back, rolling his hips up into him.
“Come on, finish what you started, puppy,” He says meanly, pecking Chuuya’s forehead, then licking at the sweat gathered there. He unhooks his finger from the leash, grimacing when the spike nearly digs into his collarbone, instead finding space in the crook of Dazai’s neck, before snaking it between their bodies to brush his fingers over his own clit.
Chuuya’s hips are moving pathetically now, twitching pathetically in half-hearted, weak gasps of movement. He’s groaning into Dazai’s ear, face squished into Dazai’s cheek as he trembles, grinding against the straps harness to press the vibrator harder against his clit. Dazai supposes he’s come, if the spill of wetness leaking down his thighs means anything, and he pats at his back patronizingly. “You tried,” He says, shaking his head a little and dragging his fingers over his own clit again, still rocking his hips up into the strap. “At least stay still so I can- ah , good boy.”
Chuuya lets out another weak groan, squirming a little but falling still when Dazai’s hand moves down his back to hold his hips still so he can grind against the strap still buried inside his cunt. Between that and his own fingers working over his clit, it’s quick work, and he’s groaning into Chuuya’s temple, clenching around the strap as he comes. It’s only then that he bats for the remote again, turning it down just to make Chuuya whine, and then off all the way.
“You’re so useless, puppy,” He says shakily, petting through Chuuya’s hair with the hand still coerced in his own come and slick. The redhead is dead weight on his chest, snuffling, shaky breaths fanning over his cheek and arms akimbo out to their sides. Dazai unhooks his leg from Chuuya’s thigh, shifting with a groan to try and get at least a little comfortable, if Chuuya is deadset on falling asleep on him. It’s difficult, because the collar is still just centimeters away from plunging one of the spikes into Dazai’s neck, but he makes it work, fingers fumbling at the buckle to try and pry it off.
When it falls free, landing harmlessly against the mattress, Chuuya whines. “I’ll do better next time,” He promises sleepily, the sound a little sad and desperate.
“I know you will, puppy,” Dazai says, patting his head. “You’re very good.”
Chuuya keens, the sound muted and muffled against Dazai’s cheek. Dazai chuckles softly, stretching his leg out to the side.
“I am making you get off in ten minutes though.”
Chuuya grunts.
“You’re heavy , chibi. I’m fragile.”
“Fragile, my ass,” is the growled response.
“Where did my docile puppy go? Bad dog,” Dazai scolds, even if he doesn’t mean it, “Very bad dog.”