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

Kinetic Friction

Tw/Tags: Humor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, Established Relationship, Cockblocking, Dirty Talk, Barebacking, 5+1 Things, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs
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There was an impatient knock outside of Chuuya's apartment, and his heart immediately leapt to his throat. Time slowed down to a crawl as he watched the knob turn and the door open, the creak of its unnecessarily loud hinges resonating in his ears. He barely had time to push Dazai off of him before their guest was graced with the most nefarious scene in Chuuya's life to date: nearly naked on the couch with a traitor.

"I know I'm early for our afternoon tea, but—"

"Ane-san!"

The silence was deafening. To say that the ever escalating tension in the room was excruciating was an understatement. Not to mention, awkward as hell. For the first time, while watching Kouyou watch him, Chuuya wished death upon himself rather than the waste of bandages hovering over him, who was smirking with all the self satisfaction of a cat. Bastard.

"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" Kouyou asked, her tone frigid and crisp. She stepped into the room. Her scrutinizing eyes zeroed in on Chuuya's person, undoubtedly searing a hole into what was left of his clothing with her fiery gaze.

Chuuya wasn't the type to be shy or embarrassed, but his cheeks flooded with color nevertheless. The blush deepened to a dazzling scarlet as Kouyou stood there, appraising both him and Dazai with an expression that demanded an explanation. His hands flew to the top of his white shirt and began buttoning it with swift fingers. Chuuya wiggled beneath Dazai, kneeing him in the stomach in an effort to kick him onto the floor. Or, at the very least, get the prick's attention because unlike Chuuya's need to make haste, Dazai had yet to slip on his shirt and zip up his black pants.

Unsurprisingly, Dazai's state of undress hadn't gone unnoticed. Chuuya could practically feel Kouyou's glare damning his dickwad of an ex-partner to the burning pits of Hell via an agonizing death.

"Oi!" Chuuya grumbled, knocking Dazai upside the head with his elbow. "Get up, you idiot!"

And get up, he did.

"Hi, Ane-san," Dazai chirped with a carefree wave as he sat back on his heels. He flashed a luminous smile that reeked of havoc and mischief, and Chuuya wanted to choke the son of a bitch with his own bandages for it.

Dazai glanced at Chuuya and tossed him the most flirtatious of winks before turning to Kouyou. He slowly ran a hand through his hair. Tilting his head to the side, Dazai literally begged for his demise as he said, "To answer your question: yes, I was most definitely enjoying both Chuuya and myself—"

Strangely enough, Chuuya actually did possess a minuscule amount of pity for Dazai after all these years. The bastard was sure as hell lucky to have a nullifying ability. Otherwise, he wasn't sure if Dazai would've been able to (ah, who was he kidding? Dazai was a good for nothing, lazy, stinky pile of trash who needed to just die already) dodge Golden Demon's katana as it slashed through the air. The sharp edge of the blade had pressed against Dazai's jugular for merely a second before it had disappeared in a flash of blue light.

And with a smirk that guaranteed Chuuya would be whooping his ass later, Dazai had lived to die another day.

"Why does Ane-san get a key to your apartment and I don't?"

The pouting was palpable.

"Because, unlike a certain mummified asshole, I enjoy her company."

Bandaged hands brushed up Chuuya's sides, touches teasing and feather-light. Dazai pressed his soft lips against his collarbone, then began kissing across his chest.