Molly's Fics Cause she Refuses to Read Them on Ao3

The Gun You Carry

Tw/Tags: Pole Dancing, Hand Jobs, Masturbation, Light Dom/sub, Sexual Assault, Gun Violence, Hook-Up, Orgasm Control, Hair-pulling, Sexual Harassment
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Swinging his leg up, Chuuya tried to wrap it around the pole in order to hold himself up. The goal was to secure himself in a way that allowed him to let go with both hands and to only hang on the pole with the strength of his thighs. However, a sharp sting in his lower back inhibited such intention and he failed miserably; his legs unable to hold his weight. He slid down the pole headfirst.

"Good grief, not again," Chuuya heard Akutagawa swearing as his hands touched the ground and he rolled off. The pain the action caused undeniable, Chuuya remained sitting on the floor for a moment despite not knowing which position sent a harsher sting up his spine.

The music stopped playing and soft thuds echoed through the practice hall when the girls dropped to the ground as well. He could feel their stares digging into his back.

"Chuuya! Could you please get your shit together?" Arms crossed in front of his chest, Akutagawa looked down at Chuuya with such chagrin, Chuuya almost felt sorry. Almost.

"I am trying."

He couldn't help but sound annoyed. He was trying, really. But today simply nothing worked out the way he wanted to, and his mood was worsening accrescent with the pain. That, and the fact that he was fucking up repeatedly, fueled his frustration.

Gritting his teeth, he scrambled to his feet again in an attempt to regain some dignity and to be on eye-level – figuratively, he would forever be shorter when not wearing heels - with their choreographer. "I am just having a bad day. I'll do better next round."

Chuuya knew Kouyou and Yosano behind him exchanged suggestive looks, he saw it in the mirror, but as long as they kept their mouths shut, he refrained from putting them in place. It wouldn't do any good if Akutagawa found out why he actually sucked today.

One of his eyebrows rose in skepticism, but Akutagawa didn't make another comment. Chuuya understood anyway.

"Then let's do it again," Akutagawa said, one finger already on the play button of the sound system and Chuuya quickly took in the first pose. It hurt.

Chuuya really had underestimated the discomfort of the aftermath. He didn't regret any of it, surely not, but had he known just how much he would suffer from the never-ceasing ache in his back and legs and elsewhere, he would have told Dazai to slow down.

Okay, no, he wouldn't have. But he could talk himself into believing that.

He rather suffered through four hours of practice than reject the best sex he ever had.

The beat started anew, and they went through with their choreography again. This time, Chuuya managed to keep himself on the pole. His teeth clenched as he tried to block out the pain. He managed to swing his body up with a little too much effort, but he didn't drop, which was progress in his eyes. Two more hours, then he could take a break until the evening– that's the thought with which he tried to motivate himself with.

"No. God, no." The music stopped again and when Chuuya looked, Akutagawa had hidden his face behind a hand, as if ashamed of the sight he had had to witness.

Chuuya braced himself. It needed no psychic to tell what Akutagawa was thinking.

The man let out a shaky breath, clearly agitated, and now Chuuya did fill a twinge of guilt for wasting precious time. But he couldn't have anticipated last night. He wasn't to blame entirely.

"Chuuya, what's wrong with you? Bad day or not, you're moving as gracefully as a bulldozer."

Kouyou snorted out a laugh but was quickly silenced by the cutting glare she received from Chuuya. He didn't need that right now.