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

N-A-S-T-Y C-H-E-R-R-Y

Tw/Tags: Enemies to Lovers, ,Begging, Dacryphilia, Biting, Hand & Finger KinkMild Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love

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If someone had asked either of them what their plans for the night would be, both of them would have said something along the lines of, "Probably to get hammered."

Neither of them, however, would have mentioned each other, and they most certainly would not have thought of this—of hands roaming places they shouldn't, of teeth and tongue, of wild disregard for their neighbors' sleep.

All plans aside, it wouldn't be the first time they had ended up like this, and it certainly wouldn't be the last—not with Dazai's knee between Chuuya's legs, forcing him onto his tiptoes—not with the wet kisses Chuuya's lips left along Dazai's jaw.

Chuuya never really prided himself on his restraint, but his old partner only made it that much harder to control himself when Dazai shoved him against the wall of his apartment like this. They were all teeth and tongue and bruises and blood.

They were all black and blue.

Although, what is one supposed to call bruises that never heal?

Chuuya wouldn't be caught dead letting his subordinates see Dazai leaving his own rooms (the cheeky son of a bitch would make sure everyone knew he had been the one making their superior scream), but that didn't mean their fun had to stop. No, Chuuya was perfectly happy to get familiar with his old partner's bedroom.

And familiar he was—especially with the walls. Even now, his back was pressed against one of those four grey walls. He stood on his tiptoes, curtesy of Dazai's knee, but Dazai still had to stoop to reach his lips. It was annoying. With any other man, Chuuya could simply float. He didn't have to strain to reach their lips.

But oh, no other could really get him going quite like Dazai.

He never really got the chance to see how his ability would work during sex. Dazai's ability effectively canceled his own, and he didn't really care to get close to anyone else. Dazai alone was enough of a pain—in more ways than one.

Chuuya bit Dazai's lip harshly, and the brunette pulled away with a pout. "What is it, pumpkin?"

"I will k—" Chuuya started, but the shots of alcohol they had downed together earlier blunted his anger enough to make him simply scoff. "Pick me up, asshole."

Dazai giggled, but he did as he was told. He wrapped Chuuya's legs around his waist and used the wall to help support his weight. He held him a little higher than he probably needed to, but Chuuya smiled so brightly over the reversed height difference that he planted his lips firmly back onto Dazai's—so really, Dazai didn't have any complaints.

A part of it seemed like a threat, but mostly, it felt like an apology for the hard bite—not that Chuuya would ever in a million years apologize to him out loud, no matter how drunk they got. Dazai didn't expect an apology before, and he didn't expect it now. The two of them beat and bruised each other until they were both black and blue—black on black, even.

Although Dazai still found it amusing that the little red head was already trying to unbuckle his pants after matching him for just a few shots.

Was Chuuya's alcohol tolerance really that low, or did he just miss him?

Dazai couldn't help but smile into the kiss. He'd never tell anyone, but leaving Chuuya behind might have been the hardest part of switching sides. He knew how upset he had been. The first time they met afterwards, Chuuya had actually intended to kill him. Dazai still couldn't remember why exactly he had stopped.