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Assistant: Title: Everything or Nothing
        Author: Cataclysmic_Calamity Wellthathappened 
        Chapter: 34/41 
        Summary: College AU where Chuuya finds out that the boy he drunkenly made out with the night of orientation is his new roommate.His arrogant, smug, very straight roommate.And the boys are each convinced the other is trying to ruin their life by making them go absolutely insane.Turkish Translation  Here Vietnamese Translation  Here
        Contents: Chapter 34: you'll always be there
    

    


      
        
          tw // existential dread, discussions of death, discussions of potentially terminal illnessyou can find me on twitter at @catacylsmiceve1 !
      
  

  
  
    
    They make it home not long after, with Chuuya striding off, mentioning something about needing a shower, and Dazai lets him.He isn’t oblivious to why the redhead is upset, he just isn’t willing to give him what he wants, and for that reason he opts to give him space instead.For the time being, it seems like his boyfriend is willing to take that opportunity to cool down. He’s gone for over an hour, and if he needs to sulk, fine, Dazai can settle down in the living room with a book.Which isn’t the worst thing for Dazai, either—because it gives him time to calm down as well, and with all of the built up tension...he kind of needs to.It’s an hour and a half later when the door to the living room creaks open, and when Dazai glances up over the top of his book, he finds his boyfriend standing in the doorway, looking a lot calmer, with a slightly reconciliatory expression that makes Dazai think that giving him space worked.It should really be said that he was lured into a false sense of security.“I’m sorry I snapped, earlier.” Chuuya mutters, lowering his chin. “I’ve never been good about...accepting my situation."Obviously not, and he already explained that much to Dazai before, when it came to why it took Chuuya so long to tell him the truth. And Dazai often finds himself struggling to accept it, so he can't really imagine how hard it is for Chuuya. "...I get it," he sighs, lowering the book slightly, and the fact that he doesn't sound frustrated or angry seems to make his boyfriend relax. "Wanna order dinner? Or I could call Hirotsu and have him make something—""Well," Chuuya cuts him off, stepping inside the room fully, "I'm kinda tired from everything, so...could I just sit with you for a little while?"Dazai understands why he's asking, given the fact that he practically had to pull Chuuya off of him with a crowbar in the car, and he appreciates it.However.Now that Chuuya is actually standing where Dazai can see all of him, he notices the fact that Chuuya is wearing an oversized t-shirt, one of Dazai's, big enough that it slips off of one shoulder. And that isn't the issue, Chuuya wearing his shirts has become a normal, welcome sight at this point. It's the fact that Chuuya's thighs are bare. The sight of which Dazai has already had to subject himself to today in front of an entire room of photographers and assistants—"Before I say yes," Dazai cautions, raising one finger, "are you wearing underwear?"It's the fact that Chuuya has the nerve (so much nerve, if Dazai knew, but love and concern can blind the most cynical person) to sound annoyed, even a little offended, that makes this situation a little ironic. "Yes, Dazai, I'm wearing underwear."And now, feeling (unfairly) chagrined, Dazai relents, sealing his fate. "Then of course you can."Chuuya smiles a little from what Dazai interprets as relief, padding across the room and climbing up on the couch next to him, getting comfortable against Dazai's side.And it is nice. Chuuya has one arm thrown loosely around Dazai's stomach, his head resting against his chest. It is relaxing, settling in like that with a book, Chuuya half dozing in his arms—added with the warmth from the fire, it feels downright cozy.(Not that they normally have the fire on, this time of year—but it's been a cold spring, and Chuuya gets chilled so easily these days.)Dazai actually feels relaxed. Contented, even, his fingers stroking through Chuuya's hair, still so soft and silky after the shoot.(Which makes him wonder why the redhead needed an hour and a half to rinse off, but oh well—) His fingers drift over the side of Chuuya's neck, feeling the comforting, steady thrum of his pulse, further down over his shoulder, gently pulling the collar of his shirt back over the redhead's shoulder, because, like he said, he gets cold easy—(He does not see, from his angle, the way Chuuya's eye, even when he's half asleep, twitches a little.)And for just a few minutes, he's content to have his hand resting over Chuuya's side, fingers splayed over the redhead's ribs as he starts another chapter, silently, forlornly noting the way his hand can wrap halfway around Chuuya's waist, his thumb resting against his hipbone while his index finger is just beneath his navel.He stays like that for a little while, feeling the smooth rise and fall of Chuuya's breaths, slowly turning pages with his thumb. They pretty much have the run of the house to themselves for the night, with Mori on a 48 hour rotation until the weekend, and Dazai's grandfather staying in the hospital overnight for a round of palliative therapy.Dazai finds himself wondering if he should send for dinner sometime soon, because it's getting late, and he hasn't seen Chuuya eat since breakfast. Which is weird. Normally, Dazai couldn't even keep a hamster alive, much less pay enough attention to what someone has eaten in a day, but here they are.And it's at that point, when his hand slips a little lower, down over his hip and towards his upper thigh, that he notices a different texture under his fingers, where Chuuya's shirt has ridden up.Not bare skin, or soft cotton from boxers or briefs, but—The slightly rough, intricate, telltale pattern of lace.Oh no. Chuuya doesn't react, doesn't even tense up, completely limp and relaxed against him, and Dazai almost thinks he's asleep, until the redhead's fingers slowly, lightly, start drawing invisible patterns against Dazai's chest that he knows the little brat is awake—and he stiffens."Chuuya." He grits his teeth, carefully lifting his hand away from his boyfriend's leg, trying his best not to look down because it's really the visual that's gonna kill him—"Hmm?" He has the nerve to sound innocent, lifting his head to stare up at Dazai with these big, perfect blue eyes that might as well be suicidal, because that's what this is. "What?""Seriously?""Seriously...?" Chuuya tilts his head to the side, and Dazai is more than ready to cut the b@llsh@t."Why are you wearing those?"Chuuya doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed of himself after playing on Dazai's tender heart or whatever—Okay. He can hear the irony."Why were you touching my thigh?""..." Dazai's eyes narrow, and he doesn't have a better explanation than, 'Force of habit,' but— "I wasn't going to do anything about it."Chuuya blinks, his lips quirking up into a slow smirk, and Dazai really resents himself in hindsight, because there was a time when Chuuya couldn't even say the word 'c@ck' out loud, and—Dazai has created a monster. "You don't have to do anything about it," Chuuya shrugs, settling back down against Dazai's chest with a yawn, this time dragging his knee up as he gets settled, making the shirt ride up even more, causing the lacy material to rub against Dazai's palm again. "I'm comfy." Don't.Dazai is silently chanting to himself as Chuuya turns his head back into his chest, letting out a low sigh of contentment.Do not.His hand slowly, almost against his own will, comes back down to rest on Chuuya's leg, his fingers wrapping around the soft flesh of his boyfriend's thigh. It's when his thumb starts to slip under the hem of the panties, up towards where Chuuya's hip meets his thigh, that he knows he's in trouble, and he hears Chuuya's breath hitch softly in response, lifting his had to look at him, and—Dazai doesn't mean to kiss him. That wasn't the plan, but suddenly Chuuya's mouth is right there, and his lips are so, so f@ck@ng soft, and he's being pliant against Dazai, just the way he likes, his hands sliding up and into the brunette's hair as his fingers dig into Chuuya's leg, making the redhead gasp softly against his mouth, and—Dazai scrambles back, dropping his book on the coffee table as he practically bodily throws himself to the other side of the couch, leaving Chuuya to fall back on his ass, slightly flushed and visibly frustrated. "D@mn it, do you want me to hurt you?!" Dazai snaps, not realizing how loud his voice is until Chuuya flinches and then he feels guilty, even if the redhead doesn't necessarily back down."You're not going to hurt me, that's so dramatic—""Look at your wrists, and tell me that I couldn't."Chuuya blinks, looking down at his arms. The makeup that had been used to cover them up during the shoot was washed off during the shower, and the marks are still there, but they're only faintly discolored, and the swelling is gone."That was a completely different situation—” Chuuya starts, but Dazai cuts him off."Of course it was," he's emphatic on that front, at least, "but that doesn't mean that I couldn't, or that something couldn't go wrong—""Dazai, I'm not gonna shatter—""Don't say that like you don't know that it's dangerous," Dazai cuts him off, shaking his head, "or put me in that position—""Dazai," Chuuya sits up on his elbows, huffing when Dazai stares pointedly at the ceiling rather than catching a glimpse of his boyfriend in lingerie. "I feel fine, actually, I feel great." He presses his hand against his chest for emphasis. "I know what I can handle—""Chuuya, it's not about what you can handle, you can't predict it," Dazai rubs at his temples. "And the fact that you think I want to—"Phrasing it like that is a mistake, and Dazai can hear that immediately from the sharp intake of breath Chuuya makes, and when he looks down, he sees wide eyed filled with hurt and insecurity."...You don't want to touch me?"F@ck."No, Chuuya, that's not..." He trails off, suddenly finding himself caught between a rock and a hard place. "You know I want to," his eyes finally drift down, and the sight of Chuuya's hips in black lace, thighs slightly parted, it's enough to make him feel lightheaded."But you're not going to." Chuuya doesn't sound very comforted by that statement.“Because I want you safe,” Dazai shakes his head, “not because I don’t want to touch you Chuuya, don’t be ridiculous.”“It’s not ridiculous!” Chuuya snaps, shaking his head vehemently, and Dazai is startled by how forceful the statement is. “It was the one thing I was scared of before telling you—” not the one thing, but a very big part of it, “—because I know it makes me look like some—f@ck@ng frail little invalid, but I’m not—”“I didn’t say that you are, I just want to wait until after—”“What if there isn’t?”The question comes out of nowhere like a kick to the gut, and Dazai tries to play dumb, because he hasn’t allowed himself to think of it. “I don’t know what that—"“What if there isn’t an after, Dazai?”And he could argue that Chuuya is being childish, or unfair, but the redhead doesn’t look angry, or like he’s lashing out. He looks...well, genuinely terrified. The same way that Dazai is feeling. Has been feeling, ever since he found out.Except Chuuya has been living with the knowledge for a lot longer.“There is going to be an after.” Dazai says it so firmly, even though the pit in his gut is telling him that he doesn’t know, that it could go either way—that he’s just as scared.“You don’t know that.“ Chuuya mutters, shaking his head. “And I didn’t know, before, that it was gonna be the last time—"Hearing it described that way is jarring, enough to nearly shake Dazai out of his firm stance of denial. “It wasn’t the last time—"“And this is as healthy as I’m gonna be, and then I’m gonna start getting worse—”Meaning even if Dazai decides in a week or two that he doesn’t want to wait until after surgery, they likely won’t be able to. That is the thought that settles in his head and terrifies him.Because Dazai didn’t know back then either, that it could turn out to be his last time touching Chuuya. "...I do want you," Dazai repeats softly, his eyes settling more firmly on Chuuya.The redhead doesn't look up anymore, can't really bring himself to—because this feels pathetic, and of course Dazai is saying that, Chuuya backed him into a corner.The brunette takes two steps closer, practically standing over Chuuya from where he’s still sprawled out across the couch.His expression is conflicted, Chuuya can see that much, and he feels guilty for it, because— “Kiss me like you mean it.” With what he knows now, he doesn’t ever want to make Dazai feel like he has to do anything, regardless of the situation, or how sh@tty Chuuya is feeling, because that isn’t fair.Dazai’s fingers drop down, carefully, god, he wants more, but he’s so hesitant, stroking over the curve of Chuuya’s jaw, making the redhead’s breath catch in the back of his throat as he stares back up at his boyfriend, wide eyed and unsure.“...If you start to feel anything off,” Chuuya’s eyes widen, “you have to tell me.”“...You don’t have to if you don’t—"He holds back an audible gulp when Dazai’s knee drops down between his thighs, sinking into the couch cushions, one hand resting on the back of the sofa while the other comes down to grasp the redhead’s chin, forcing Chuuya to look at him.And it’s almost baffling to him at times, how far they’ve moved from where they were a year ago. How much Dazai has Changed, because—“There’s never,” Dazai murmurs, his thumb stroking over Chuuya’s bottom lip, “a single moment, of any day, when I don’t want you.”—he didn’t talk like this before. He’s still a smug, occasionally spiteful ass to everyone else, but when they’re alone...He’s such a different person than the boy Chuuya met in a bar last summer.But when he stares into that face, the unruly dark hair, intelligent, playful eyes, and the smallest little smile, one that Chuuya has come to know by heart, he remembers what Dazai said to Poe, only a few hours before. “I always knew he was special.” And Chuuya didn’t say it then, but—He can still remember his first thought when Dazai asked him his name. Oh, yeah—I have one of those— Dazai sinks even lower, until their foreheads are pressing together, his hand drifting down from Chuuya’s chin, down his throat, coming down to rest directly over his chest—And Chuuya’s heartbeat is there, steady under his hand.It’s hard to forget, the time when it wasn’t.“You promise you’ll tell me?” Dazai repeats softly, and Chuuya almost forgets what he means, but— “If you start to feel like something’s wrong—" He nods.Dazai told himself he could wait. And he would have.But Chuuya isn’t wrong, there is a very real chance that he won’t...And if they don’t do it now, well—Chuuya was right. In two weeks, if Dazai changes his mind, it won’t matter.His hand slips down, over his ribs, his stomach, down over his hip, long, familiar fingers wrapping around him and holding there, his thumb slipping under the hem of Chuuya’s shirt, finding the lace there, rubbing appreciatively, fingers teasing the bare skin of his hip.“I was worried about it too, you know,” Dazai comments quietly, slowly pulling up at the hem off the redhead’s shirt, until it’s riding up over his stomach, his ribs.Chuuya’s eyelashes flutter, his own hands slipping up to Dazai’s shoulders, digging into the fabric of his shirt. “Worried—about what?”His breath hitches when Dazai’s face slips into the crook of his neck, pressing slow, lingering kisses along the column of his throat.“That you knew about...what happened with me…” Dazai pauses, a memory flashing in his head, one he still hasn’t been able to talk to Chuuya about— “You don’t get to wait a few years, feel embarrassed about your choices and cry rape.” “I thought you might not want me anymore either.”He doesn’t need to elaborate for Chuuya to understand what he means, even if it makes his chest sink at the thought. “Why would that ever make me stop wanting you?”“Oh, I don’t know...” Dazai sighs, half exasperated with himself, half relieved as his teeth scrape over Chuuya’s collarbone. Because he missed the feeling of Chuuya under his lips so badly, and now that he has it, he never wants to stop. “Probably something about me seeming like less of a...” he pauses, realizing how dumb it sounds out loud, his head spinning when Chuuya lifts one of his legs, lazily hooking it around Dazai’s hip, and...Everything about them being together like this, it’s always been easy. Comfortable, relaxed, and...when Chuuya’s hands slide up into his hair, stroking the short hairs at the base of his skull, something about it aches.“Less of a what?” Chuuya murmurs, his heel digging in gently, until Dazai drops forward just enough for their hips to brush together, making them both shiver with quiet waves of want.“...a guy.” Dazai admits, more than aware of how ridiculous it sounds.“...Dazai.”“I know, it sounds—”“We’re both men.” Chuuya points out, reaching down to cup Dazai’s face, forcing him to lift it from Chuuya’s shoulder and actually look at him.“I know—"“Have you ever thought of me as less of a guy?” Chuuya murmurs, and they both know if Dazai had, his crisis with his budding bis@xuality wouldn’t have been nearly as anxiety ridden.“At first I tried to,” Dazai admits with a sigh, “I thought it would make me feel less...”“Less bi, or more straight?”The brunette laughs softly against his skin, pushing his shirt up a little more. “Either or.” His thumb slides over one nipple, slowly pressing it flat with the pad of his finger before pressing his nail in slightly, making the redhead shiver. “It didn’t work.”“Not to mention the fact that I’m wearing panties right now—” Chuuya cuts himself off with a pleasured sigh when Dazai rocks their hips together slowly, the drag of friction against lace making him start to stir with slowly building arousal.“I noticed.”“Am I any less of a guy?”No, Dazai can see Chuuya’s point, and he logically agrees with it, but... “No,” Dazai rocks their hips together again, the growing tent in his slacks rubbing against the front of Chuuya’s panties. “You’re definitely still a guy.”Given the fact that getting Chuuya’s c@ck down his throat is now one of Dazai’s favorite past times, he would know. But it feels different.There are so many people who think of masculinity, dominance, and security being different sides of the same shape—rather than three scattered strings that have been intentionally knotted together.Dazai doesn’t know if he likes being dominant because he needs to feel like he’s in control, or if it’s because it makes him feel masculine—or if he actually is just that masculine, that it’s his preference—But the more he thinks about it, the more confused and self-doubting he gets.And with Chuuya underneath him, it’s never felt more simple.He’s pliant, accepting, his, and Dazai doesn’t have to think about why he wants the things that he does, whether or not that’s the right or the wrong way to feel—not when his lips are wrapped around one of the redhead’s nipples, and Chuuya is squirming under him, fingers tugging gently through his hair...There’s this sense of unconditional affection to it, and Dazai has always been terrified of that word—because every unconditional form of love in his life has always turned out to be something that was either marred by impermanence, disappointment, or...The lack of it, when it should have been there.And for once, in this part of his life, Dazai doesn't have to worry about that.His lips trail down over Chuuya's stomach, kissing the spaces between his ribs, just above his navel, his eyelashes brushing against the sensitive skin of the redhead's stomach, making him shiver.It's when his mouth reaches the lacy hem of Chuuya's underwear that he stops, making the redhead shift impatiently, his fingers twitching in Dazai's hair. The brunette smiles affectionately, reaching up to catch one of Chuuya's hands, pulling it away from his head so he can press soft, intimate kisses against the back of Chuuya’s knuckles until his fingers relax, curling around Dazai's hand."If you want to move to a bed, now would be the time," Dazai points out softly, and Chuuya finds himself considering, because there's something innately appealing about them just doing it here, with Chuuya spread out and already wanting, but—This feels important.His leg tightens around Dazai's waist, his other lifting up to join it as one of his arms slips around Dazai's neck, pulling himself against him as Dazai slides back up his body, kissing his neck, under his chin, then his mouth.It's slow, like a sigh he didn't know he was holding, Dazai's tongue teasing between his lips, a small smile forming as Chuuya feels the soft, familiar flick of Dazai's piercing against his teeth."Bed." Chuuya agrees against his mouth, and it isn't long before he gets a response, the muscles in Dazai's chest and stomach flexing as he sits up with the redhead in his arms, making Chuuya cling tighter.It's a slow, slightly meandering journey. Not the frantic, crashing into walls, tearing at each other's clothes—what you might expect after months of not touching each other, but given their situation, it isn't really possible.No, but there are moments where they end up stopped in the hallway, Chuuya's toes barely touching the floor as Dazai kisses him breathless, slow, gentle, his thumbs stroking over his cheeks, gently tracing the lines of his face.Or another instance, when Chuuya makes a small show of dragging his feet when Dazai walks him backwards towards the bedroom, hoping he'll get picked up again—not that he's tired or that he likes being manhandled, he just knows that Dazai likes it, so this is purely for his benefit, obviously.But instead of lifting him up into his arms, Dazai lifts him just a couple of inches, sliding his sock clad feet underneath Chuuya's bare ones, drawing soft giggles from his boyfriend as he struggles to keep his balance, walking the rest of the way back towards the bedroom, pausing as they hit the door. Dazai's hands slide under Chuuya's ass, cupping the backs of his thighs, squeezing appreciatively, his lips twitching when the redhead shivers in response. "Still okay?"Chuuya doesn't find himself irritated by the question—even if it would be fair, regardless—because Dazai has always asked him that, always made sure he was okay, even before he knew—so hearing that now doesn't make him feel different."Yeah," he whispers back, rising up on his toes, but even then, with his chin tilted up, he can still only kiss the bottom of Dazai's chin when his boyfriend doesn't lower his face to help him, which he does, but only after a moment of watching Chuuya reach."You're annoying." Chuuya grumbles against his mouth, fingers sliding back into his hair as Dazai reaches down to twist the doorknob, easing it open behind them.And then he scoops Chuuya up, hands sliding down to hook behind his knees as he wraps the redhead in his arms, taking slow, purposeful steps towards the bed, the mattress easing softly under their weight as they both sink into it.“I like watching you work for it, okay?" Dazai murmurs, pressing his forehead against Chuuya's again, his knees spreading between Chuuya's thighs, guiding them to spread and wrap around his hips."Mmm..." Chuuya sighs into the next kiss, lost in the feeling of Dazai's hands sliding down his sides, the quiet sounds of their lips moving together.His heartbeat is a little faster, but not unsteady, and every time Chuuya's breath starts to quicken, Dazai kisses him slower, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into his hips.Dazai wasn't really expecting Chuuya's answer."...Worth it." His breath catches in the back of his throat, his fingertips digging in slightly. It's not like Chuuya isn't sweet, he is, and the words are usually easier for him to say than they’re for Dazai, even if he isn't always as eloquent."...Even when I'm being a pain?" The words sound playful, but they're sincere.Dazai knows he's a better person right now than he was a year ago. He knows he's become more patient, open, and considerate—but he's definitely not perfect, and Chuuya must know that.Chuuya's fingers knot in his hair gently, dragging him back in, leaning up into it, their noses bumping against each other in the dim light.Right now, Dazai is the one with the irregular heartbeat, taking short, quick breaths as his lover steals each one of them away with gentle, adoring brushes of his lips. It's almost too much, because Dazai has so much swirling around in his head, so many emotions that he would normally pour out through his hands and teeth, holding Chuuya down and marking him up until everything finally started to feel quiet, but—But that isn't an option right now, and it leaves Dazai feeling almost raw."Even when you're a pain," Chuuya agrees, smiling against him, and he does let Dazai slide back down this time, hands pushing at the hem of his t-shirt, back up over his ribs, retracing the kisses he laid out in the living room, this time scraping down and sucking gently, leaving small constellations of bruises across his stomach, glancing up when Chuuya tugs at his hair, "You okay—?""I'm fine," his boyfriend reassures him, shivering faintly, "but if I have an exam or something—”He gets a small, wicked smile in return, brown eyes flashing at him in the faint streams of moonlight coming in through the window, "Don't take off your shirt.""He--”Chuuya throws his head back with a soft moan, eyes fluttering as Dazai's mouth wraps around one nipple, his tongue lashing out over it, sucking slowly, gently, and Chuuya's discovering that it's almost as stimulating as when Dazai's teeth are scraping over him roughly—because he has time to focus on every twitch and slide of his tongue, making the redhead's breaths shorten into pants. "He has to check my heartbeat, he's gonna have to—" Chuuya mutters, fingers stiff and just a little cold against Dazai's shoulders, to the point where he finds himself wiggling them occasionally to bring some life back into them."Tell him that you're shy," Dazai grins even wider, flicking his tongue one more time, taking no small amount of pleasure in watching Chuuya squirm, even if it's just a little."Like he's gonna believe that.""I don't know..." Dazai hums, pulling the shirt up and over Chuuya's head, his chest panging with desire as he watches the way Chuuya's hair slips back down over his shoulders once the shirt collar pulls up over his head, silky, soft, perfect, so much so that he can't stop himself from burying his face in it for a moment, letting out a soft sigh. "I've seen you get pretty shy on me a few times..."Chuuya wiggles his head slightly, trying to get Dazai to lift his face, because he wants another kiss, but Dazai just stays there for a moment, soft strands tickling his nose as he breathes him in. "No one else would ask me to answer whether or not I want to get eaten out after class during a facetime call.""I gave you something to look forward to, didn't I?"Chuuya can't really argue with him there, he did. Through calculus, the only math class Chuuya had to take to get through his general recs.Which, he supposes he isn't getting credit for now. What's even gonna happen with that? Does he have to re-take everything? When is he even gonna get to start? Definitely not this fall, but maybe next Spring...?Or, there's the difficult reality of what Mori said. "Even if the surgery is a success, your life isn't ever going to be normal." Realistically, the industry Chuuya wants to go into breeds stress and overwork. If he's really never going to be completely normal, is his body actually going to be able to handle...?That is, if he makes it at all—Almost as if he knows, Dazai's mouth starts working again, back down over Chuuya's chest, and now he does seem to become aware of the fact that his boyfriend is spread out underneath him, flushed and spread out, wearing only a pair of lacy black underwear, and—Good god.It's unfair, because it's likely one of the only ways Chuuya could have provoked Dazai into going against his better judgement, but he wants so much more than he can actually give him right now."You realize..." Dazai sighs, his mouth sliding down under Chuuya's navel, pausing for a moment when his boyfriend squirms, a ticklish, pressing more kisses to the region until Chuuya is shaking with laughter. "You're gonna have to do this again when I can...what was that word you used earlier?""Ch...Choke slam?" Chuuya offers between giggles, his breaths going from amused back to wanting when Dazai starts tugging at the hem of the underwear with his teeth."When I can do that.""I—" Chuuya's thighs spread around Dazai's shoulders, hooking over them as his mouth trails down over the front, mouthing at his boyfriend's stiffening erection, his lips scorching through lace. Chuuya grits his teeth, throwing his head back as his bare feet press down against Dazai's shoulders, one hand fisting in his hair, while the other clenches in the sheets next to his head. "I m-might have to buy something different, though—a—" he exhales sharply when Dazai gives him a soft suck, his hands slipping under his hips to cup the curve of his ass, massaging supple flesh under his fingers. "—any requests?"Dazai considers it, his nose brushing over Chuuya's hip, and there is a moment where he really gives the matter some serious thought. It's both a good and a bad thing, because the image of Chuuya in dozens of different options flashes in front of his head, all of them very appealing but also very arousing, and he's trying to keep his cool—But, finally, he manages to offer an answer that is somewhat cognizant.“You know what,” he lifts his mouth from the front of Chuuya’s underwear, and he sounds so utterly sincere, that Chuuya can’t even bring himself to doubt the request. “I think that I’d like something pink, actually.”Chuuya lifts his head, a little startled. “...Really?”Dazai rests his cheek against Chuuya’s stomach for a moment as he looks up at him, nodding. “Is that such a surprise?”Chuuya’s eyebrows pinch together, “Well—you never really seemed to have a thing for pastels—"And it's true, Dazai doesn't.But his mind always goes back to Chuuya's expression when Ranpo was criticizing his taste in aesthetics, or the fact that the redhead has always seemed happier in vibrant, open colors, well—Dazai hooks his fingers into the hem of Chuuya's underwear, pulling them down over his hips, pressing small, feather light kisses over newly exposed patches of skin, the sensitive, secret places where his thighs meet his hips—And there really isn't a word for it other than heavenly."Pink...and soft." Chuuya's breaths are stuttering and hitched as Dazai's cheek brushes against his shaft, his thighs trembling slightly. "Soft?""Mmmhm," Dazai hums, and Chuuya is almost impressed, relishing in a new side of him as he lavishes every inch of his thighs with attention, but it's not the forceful, utterly overwhelming touches that the redhead has almost come to expect. And he misses those, but—This time, it's like Dazai isn't trying to hide the affection behind his touches, this careful attention that was always there before, but now Chuuya can feel it in every single touch, out in the open, and—He feels wanted.And it's weird, to be choking up on affection when your boyfriend is literally scraping his teeth against the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, but—It's like this one, massive weight that he's been carrying around this whole time, an insecurity that he's had most of his life, honestly—the fear that if Dazai knew, he wouldn't want him, but—"Soft." Dazai repeats, shimmying the underwear down Chuuya's thighs, over his knees, pulling them off and tossing them aside.Mostly because Chuuya likes soft, comfortable things and vibrant colors—but Dazai also can't deny the fact that he really, really would enjoy the sight of the redhead spread out in something soft, pink, and frilly, struggling to hold back any embarrassment while Dazai, well—That's for another time.Finally, after what feels like so long, Chuuya feels pressure against his entrance, though it doesn't come from Dazai's fingers—and god, he's missed his fingers—but rather something flexible and wet, making the smaller man cling tighter to his hair with a surprised whine as Dazai buries his face in his ass, teasing Chuuya's entrance with long, slow swipes with the flat of his tongue."Wh—you—" Chuuya keens, his heel digging into Dazai's shoulder, "—could warn me—"Dazai pulls his chin back slightly, lips twitching, "I could say the same thing about the underwear."Well. That's a fair point.And it's not like Chuuya's heart is pounding—he's been forcing himself to take slow, careful breaths, broken up by moans and gasps when Dazai's tongue is back on him, probing at him, not devouring him like he normally might, but slowly opening him up—and it's when he starts pressing his tongue inside, finding it surprisingly pliant, that he pulls back to raise an eyebrow."That's why you were gone for an hour?"Chuuya stares back at him innocently—as innocently as he can, anyway, when Dazai's finger is slowly probing inside of him, his muscles fluttering slightly around him, but still relaxed to the point where it can sink in to the second knuckle without trouble. "I almost tried one of those plugs but I thought it would be awkward for me to slink off with it in there if you said no—""A plug?" Dazai stops, his finger paused all the way inside of the redhead as he stares up at him, his face a mask of abject shock.Chuuya blinks back at him. "That's the right word for it, right? One of those b@tt plug thingies?"B@tt. Plug. Thingies.There are moments where it seems like Chuuya has come so far from the dewy faced freshman who bought the lie that skipping on condoms was "good for the environment," but then—Then he says sh@t like this. And it takes every ounce of Dazai's self-restraint not to laugh, and it distracts from his original question."When did you buy a b@tt plug?!""Well, the first time—" Chuuya shudders when Dazai slips another finger inside because yes, he's utterly amused, but he has his own erection throbbing almost painfully in his pants, and he doesn't want to draw this out any more than is already necessary. "I wore—the panties—you said—" he squirms when Dazai's fingers hook inside of him, his toes curling, "—you would've bought something to keep me open—and then—" Dazai's fingers spread, so easily, and between the lube Dazai added from his fingers, his own saliva, and what Chuuya used before, the redhead is impossibly slick, "—when we weren't—speaking, I missed—"Dazai's fingers pause. Chuuya realizes his mistake when Dazai is sliding back up over him, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, but otherwise he's completely dressed over Chuuya's naked form, the soft fabric of his slacks dragging against Chuuya's bare thighs. "You missed what?"Chuuya's face is rapidly darkening, his eyebrows pinching with irritation, and he spits out what has to be the single most erotic, self-deprecating, hilarious responses Dazai has ever heard."I don't have big hands, okay?!"And were this a normal situation, Dazai might have taken advantage of the opportunity to demonstrate just how big his hands really are, especially since Chuuya is already opened up a little, but—But obviously that'll have to wait.So, for now, he slips a third finger inside, wiggling it in alongside the others, knuckles slowly grinding against Chuuya's inner walls, "I missed it too, you know."That might be a risk to Chuuya's heartbeat, because it's stuttering in his chest as he rolls down against Dazai's fingers, tilting his head to the side as the brunette's face buries back in his neck."Do you have any idea?" Chuuya squeezes his eyes shut as Dazai's fingers slowly slip out, and then he's teased with the swell of his lover's erection pressing against him, his arms flying up to cling around the larger man's neck.No, Chuuya doesn't really think he does, because he's never seen himself that way, but he can't deny it when Dazai says it like that, his voice achingly soft, pulsing against Chuuya through the fabric of his pants—It's impossible to believe that Dazai doesn't want him just as much.And it's that trust that Chuuya has in him, the openness that Dazai feels in the way that the redhead spreads and clings underneath him— "You were never like that." Dazai swallows hard, tucking his nose against Chuuya's neck for a moment, breathing him in. "You took care of me." "Osamu..." A long, slow shiver rolls down his spine when Chuuya says his name like that, his eyes squeezing shut. "Please."He would call his boyfriend overeager, but, well—this has been fairly drawn out, hasn't it?One of his hands reaches down to fumble with his slacks, unbuttoning them, dragging down the zipper as Chuuya's fingers tug at his shirt buttons, sliding inside as more and more of his chest and stomach come into view, and the moment Dazai feels the warmth of Chuuya's bare skin against his chest, he lets out a low, satisfied sigh.Finally, when Chuuya feels the hard, pulsing heat of Dazai's c@ck against his thigh, he feels his body let out a slow tremble of relief."Still okay?"His lips twitch up into a slow smile, stroking Dazai's hair where his face still hasn't lifted from Chuuya's neck. "'M okay."Dazai nods, and then he’s there, lining himself up—and after the faint squeeze of pressure of him pressing through Chuuya’s ring of muscle—He’s inside, and they’re both moaning, holding onto each other so tightly.Chuuya is shaking, because it’s been long enough for him to forget just how full Dazai makes him feel, wide, throbbing, and thick, to the point where each time he slides deeper, it feels like some of the air is being forced out of Chuuya's lungs.And Dazai can sense that the redhead is struggling to adjust from the unsteadiness of his breath, to the way that his body is racked with tremors underneath him, but before Dazai can ask, Chuuya is reassuring him with shaky whispers."I'm okay," his fingers tighten in Dazai's hair as his boyfriend bottoms out, and Chuuya almost feels like he's at his limit, but— "It shouldn't ever hurt." And with Dazai, it never has. It's burning, sure, but there's no sting, no real pain—it's just pressure. The good kind, a suffocating weight that Chuuya wants to drown in."Feels..." Chuuya chokes quietly on his own words when the head of Dazai's c@ck bumps against his prostate, his own erection jumping against his stomach as he bites his lip. He's never been that shy, but sometimes, the things he's willing to say out loud in bed still shock Dazai—"Feels full...""..." The brunette lets out an almost self-pitying groan of restraint, because all he wants to do is slam in, to get the same kind of release that Chuuya is also looking for, after being wound up for so long—but—But this isn't half bad either, slowly rocking in and out of the redhead, shallow, pointed thrusts, slowly milking the pleasure out of him, getting to take in every single reaction. Each quiet gasp, the way Chuuya's thighs shake when they tighten around his hips, and god, the way he whispers his name—And the other notable difference is—before this, they never really got the chance to talk during sex. It was always heated, rushed, desperately trying to reach a climax before one of them figured out it was a little too real for the other, but—But now, they manage to nearly have full on conversations, where they'll stop, waiting for Chuuya's heart to calm and his breath to slow, whispering and laughing softly in the dark, their noses bumping together.Normally, Chuuya might have found that maddening, being built up only to stop, over and over again, but—It's actually nice after a little while, like there's this warm, almost weightless feeling to it, his body completely relaxed as Dazai's body presses down on him, his c@ck keeping Chuuya so open as he whispers sweet nothings in his ear.And the only part of this that does hurt, so g@dd@mn much, is the thought that this might be the last time.Chuuya isn't sure what compels him to say it, or why now, but he finds himself whispering, "Osamu?"Dazai lifts his head, pressing slow, lazy kisses against his jaw as his hips grind slow, unhurried circles against Chuuya's insides, making his lover let out slow, high pitched whimpers each time. "Yeah?""Are you going back next semester?"Dazai is a little surprised that Chuuya would be asking him something so normal and practical right now, but answering couldn't hurt. "I don't really...I'm not sure yet.""It's not...because of me, right?"They both pause, because Dazai can hear the very real possibility that Chuuya is considering in his voice.On Dazai's end, he was thinking about wanting to be there until Chuuya could recover enough to come back, and with his own confusion surrounding what he wants to do, that makes sense, but—But Chuuya's tone implies that, by the end of the summer, Dazai might not be waiting on anything. Chuuya might not even be there."I don't..." Dazai feels slightly unsteady, his chest struck with this sudden, crushing amount of sorrow at the thought, something he can't even bring himself to process, "I don't want to...think about—"Chuuya's palm presses to his cheek, fingers trembling, and he's unsteady, but so serious. "I don't want you to...stop doing things because of me." Their eyes meet and to Dazai's surprise and worry, he finds that Chuuya's eyes are wet."Because, I..." he takes a shaky breath, one arm clinging tighter around Dazai's neck, "keep thinking about all of the things..." The next words are so honest, so fragile and frightened, they tear right through to his core, "...that I wanna do," his voice breaks on the last word, his throat aching as he fights back tears, and it's complicated, because—He feels good, he feels alive, and he's just so, soin love with the person holding him, but he also feels like everything is going too fast, like everyone else gets a full trilogy to tell the story of their lives, and all of his pages are about to be ripped out before the end of book one, and it's unfair."...And I wanna do all of it with you." Dazai stares back at him, his own eyes suddenly stinging as he struggles for words, but for once, he has none."I'm..." Chuuya bites his lip, so frustrated with himself as a couple of the tears fall, "I know, I'm...not fair, but—I just—if I don't—""Chuuya—""If I don't make it," he has to say the words out loud, because they're trapped inside and festering, and he just wants to stop dancing around the possibility, so he isn't trapped alone with it in his head. "I don't want you...to not live your life, just because...I'm not there." "..."It wasn't until that particular moment, staring down at Chuuya's tear stricken, agonized expression, that it finally clicked.Dazai always knew that if Chuuya didn't make it, he wasn't particularly interested in what came after. But he always assumed that it stemmed from the fact that Chuuya was the first real relationship he's ever had, the first person who took the time and energy to try to see Dazai as something more than just a d@ck—and he is, but there's more, and Chuuya has always been the first to see that, but—It's all right there in front of him right now.Chuuya is terrified, contemplating whether or not he's going to make, it, and—He's worried about what Dazai is going to do.Osamu has always had his own evolving, complicated relationship with love, because so many people who were supposed to be there weren't. So many people who have said that to him didn't mean it, or, in the most painful cases, didn't know what that word meant.But Chuuya Nakahara is the first person to ever show Dazai just how much a person can be loved, deeply, sincerely, without even having to say the words out loud.And now Dazai is shedding tears of his own, because he feels like the last person in the world to deserve it. He's lied, he's let people down, he's been cruel, and he doesn't even know how to take the emotions roiling in his chest and turn them into something meaningful, something that could bring his lover any amount of comfort.Because f@ck, he loves him so much, straight from his gut. It's like Chuuya is in him, that the first glance between them in a dark, crowded bar was the first crack in the warped, suffocating facade that Dazai had wrapped around himself as a way to keep himself safe, but instead of hurting him, something was planted there. With every annoyed, petty little act of vengeance, to the reluctant smiles and the breathless laughter, the way that he would carry a boy that he despised to the hospital just to make sure that he was okay, spending hours painting tigers on a little boy he just met, just to make him smile, or the fact that even after Dazai hurt him, he crossed Paris in the middle of the night just to hold him and talk on the sidewalks all night long—That seed grew. It took this emptiness inside of him, this vague, hopeless hole where Dazai always thought belonging was supposed to be, and he filled it up.So slowly that he didn't notice it at first, the way that Chuuya had started to exist in the spaces between his ribs, roots growing deeper, blossoming into something so integral to who Dazai is, that he doesn't think he could survive separation—But when he tries to pinpoint exactly where Chuuya is, it's in the space between his heartbeats. Sparks of happiness and color that run all the way through him, echoing from his chest, all the way down to his fingertips—And it's hard to imagine, if Chuuya doesn't make it, that his heart will keep beating in his chest. That he'll wake up the next day, and the sun will sill be there and that people will still go about their days, turning off their alarms and dragging themselves to work, filling up the streets like the world is normal, even if the best part of it isn't in it anymore.Now, it's all blindingly clear. It's not that Dazai wants Chuuya in his life, or that he's afraid of going on without him--it's that Chuuya—Chuuya is his life.He's the one thing that's never blown up in Dazai’s face, the one thing that's never hurt.He's the first thing Dazai thinks of when he opens his eyes in the morning, and the last thing he thinks about before he falls asleep, and when Chuuya talks about all of the things he wants to do, and how he wants to do them with him, Dazai—Dazai can't think of a single thing he wants to do without Chuuya being a part of it. He remembers the lists of things he used to make in his head, the things that he thought Chuuya deserved, but that Dazai couldn't give him because he didn't know how—Love songs, kisses in the rain, being chased down in the middle of an airport...All of the things that seemed impossible, but now...hell, Dazai has done most of them, and he could do so much more—And that image, the fantasy that he always told himself was too unrealistic, because they couldn't have a future—Chuuya, curled up in a kitchen chair with one of Dazai's shirts slipping off of one shoulder, his hair pulled up in a messy bun as he sips a morning cup of coffee, and on his fing—His teeth clench tightly.Now it hurts, almost too much to imagine, because they both want it so badly and—it's all just so unfair.Slowly, because he doesn't trust his own voice, he starts to move again, slow, deep thrusts that leave Chuuya gasping, choking between moans and tears as his fingers claw at Dazai's shoulders, and...His lover leans down, lips brushing over tear streaked cheeks."You'll be there." Chuuya shakes his head, biting his lip as he trembles underneath him, his pleasure building, mixing in with every other emotion pulsing through him, and it's almost too much."Osamu, don't--"Dazai's fingers wrap around the hand on his face, bringing Chuuya's palm down, pressing it against his chest--and Chuuya has never been so achingly jealous of a heartbeat, strong and steady under his palm, just like everything else about Dazai—Strong, steady, there."It doesn't matter," Dazai presses on, his forehead resting against Chuuya's as their bodies continue moving together, each of them tensing as the pressure starts to build, both of them finally racing towards a release, clinging so tightly, like that could somehow make it impossible to let go, "where I am, or what I'm doing—" his fingers tighten over Chuuya's hand, making sure he feels every single heart beat, his breaths shaking as he starts to feel himself get close, "—you're always there."Their eyes meet, and Chuuya swallows thickly, his fingers clinging, loosening bandages until he can feel skin underneath. "That won't change."There's something overwhelmingly comforting about it, because Chuuya knows what he means.That even if a day comes when he doesn't wake up, if he goes under for surgery and never resurfaces, he won't disappear.The fear doesn't fade, nor does the rage against how unfair it all is, but—To some extent, it feels slightly more bearable."I—” Chuuya crashes forward, clinging so tight, his fingers digging into Dazai's chest as he kisses him, rocking his hips desperately, like he's trying to chase something that could last forever, even if—Even if nothing does."I l—love you—"Dazai pants into the kiss, his arms trembling as he whispers it back, grief, fear, affection, and pleasure blending together in a jumbled mess of emotion, "I love you too, so—"Chuuya's eyes slip shut as his climax hits him, rising like a tide, washing over him and pulling him under, making him whimper Dazai's name over and over again—"—so d@mn much."It's minutes before either of them really manage to catch their breath, and it's not that sexy, the fact that Chuuya's boyfriend feels the need to check his pulse for the first couple of minutes after an @rg@sm, but—When he finds Chuuya's heart rate to be steady under his fingertips, he relaxes, sinking down against him, letting out a low sigh as he hugs him close.Chuuya turns his face into Dazai's chest, waiting for his breathing to slow as exhaustion starts to hit him, sleep tugging at the corners of his eyelids—but he isn't terribly stressed out about it. Even if he passes out for a little while, Dazai will wake him up to help him clean up—"Thank you." Dazai sighs contentedly, his fingertips drifting through Chuuya's hair, his cheek resting against the top of his head. "You don't have to thank me for touching you, chibi."Chuuya's eyes open just a hint, and his smile is weak, but happier than it's been in weeks."This was important to me." He admits, his head sinking back against Dazai's chest, listening to his heartbeat.Dazai knows, and in the end—he's glad, because now... He knows what it feels like to make love to him, to make love to anyone, and even if the circumstances weren't ideal—he wouldn't trade that for anything.There's several more long beats of silence, and it's when Chuuya is on the edges of sleep, curled up against his chest while Dazai stares up at the ceiling, one arm folded behind his head while the other holds his boyfriend close, that he says it, "Do you have a list?""Hmm?" Chuuya sighs, his cheek squished against his chest, one leg thrown over his hips."Of things you wanna do."Chuuya pauses, lifting his chin slightly, remembering the pile of post-it notes sitting in Natsume's office."...I've been working on it, yeah." He admits softly, leaning into Dazai's touch as the brunette strokes his hair."Well," Dazai takes a deep breath, squeezing him even closer, "after your surgery...we can take a look at it."Chuuya doesn't argue with the resolve in Dazai's voice, because he gets that his boyfriend needs it, even if Chuuya doesn't want to cling to any false hope.It's a 5050 shot, Chuuya just...has been on the wrong side of that too many times to feel hopeful."Yeah," he agrees quietly, sinking back down against him, letting the soft lullaby of Dazai's heartbeats pull him to sleep, "we should."What he doesn't know is that Dazai is quietly resolving himself to the fact that if Chuuya doesn't make it, well—Crossing off that list? It's a better than nothing, even if—Even if Dazai wants everything.'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
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