To Be Shameless : To No Longer Have Inhibitions

"It's opener, out there, in the wide, open air."

Chuuya slides a knife between the delicate skin and flesh of the garlic and gently peels it away. He sets the peel aside to take care of later and starts mincing the garlic. He pauses only to pull oil out of a shelve and set it aside gently. His actions contradict the obvious tension wracking his frame. He pointedly ignores Dazai who is behind and staring at him with blatant intent. Chuuya is itching to tell Dazai to move but that would involve actually talking to Dazai, something that he is no longer doing.

Inadvertently he recalls last night, when Dazai held himself above Chuuya and made him beg and plead for his touch-like Dazai was a God offering his benediction. Chuuya flushes at the memory of Dazai's touch, his lips dragging their way up Chuuya's neck, the gentle kisses pressed against his lips. His neck warms as he recalls his own clumsy attempts at reciprocation, the way he grabbed at Dazai's shirt pleading for him to fuck him, Dazai had refused. Apparently Chuuya didn't deserve that particular blessing.

"Chuuya." Dazai calls, startlingly close. He sees Dazai shifting in his periphery and he feels him pressing up against his back, his arms snake around Chuuya to press against the counter-trapping Chuuya between Dazai and the counters. Chuuya flinches but refuses to acknowledge the call . He braces his own hands against the counter as Dazai leans more of his weight on him. Dazai blows warm air against Chuuya's neck and nips at the sensitive skin of his neck, he chuckles lowly at ensuing Chuuya's shudder. Chuuya hangs his head in shame at the low keening moan that escapes him. "Chuuya." Dazai calls again, drawing out his name in the way Dazai knows irritates Chuuya. "Fuck off." Chuuya grits out, "I have work, you should leave."

"But Chuuya is so grumpy, I wouldn't want him to take out his anger on his precious subordinates. Why is Chuuya so angry at me, he wasn't like this last night. C'mon talk to me, why?

Chuuya briefly and vividly recalls Dazai asking him something similar before- "Cibi has been more irritable than usual, I wonder why that is?" Dazai questioned. He grasped Chuuya's elbow and led him to the couches-like this was his house. He delicately guided Chuuya down, pressing against his shoulders until Chuuya dropped all the way down. "C'mon tell me." Dazai cajoled gently. "What are going to do after this?"- "

Dazai?" Chuuya asked hesitantly, "Do you remember how I asked what you were gonna do after this."

"Yeah."

"Do you remember what you said." Chuuya questioned.

"...Yeah." Dazai pulled away, clearly distressed. Chuuya turned to face him, angling his head to make eye contact.

"You said you didn't know" Chuuya persisted, "You didn't know what you were gonna after the ability wore off."

Dazai shrugged. "I'm not quite sure why you find that significant Chuuya."

Dazai's tone sent ice racing down his spine, Chuuya's throat felt uncomfortable like it was clogged he swallowed before he started talking again.

" I know what you're going to do."

"Do tell." Dazai hummed, his posture was stiff and he tapped his fingers against the counter rhythmically-a nervous gesture that Dazai would never show if he wasn't under the influence of the ability-when would they fix that anyways?

"You're going to hurt us-not just me but the entire Port Mafia as some sick sort of revenge or something, because you can't handle being embarrassed like a normal person. Chuuya said, watching misery flash across Dazai's face. He felt anguish and enlightenment crawling it's way down his throat into his and nesting in his stomach-in a distant sort of way.

"And that." Chuuya continued miserable and ecstatic at the same, "Is why you should leave because your're sick fuck who can't handle his feeling and I have work and Mori-san is going to lose his shit If I'm late."

Chuuya swept past Dazai who lingered in his way long enough only to prove that moving was a choice.

And then Chuuya went to work and lived happily ever fucking ever.