Soukoku Oneshots

Your mine (2)

By: WritingFromTheShadow
Warning:      Smut
                        Choker kink

It was late when Dazai finished his work for the night and headed to his apartment. Chuuya had taken the day off, and Dazai would have made his way towards the shorter man’s place if it weren’t for the fact that Chuuya had sent him a text around sundown asking when Dazai planned to be back to his apartment. After replying with a vague estimate, Dazai hadn’t heard so much as a peep from Chuuya the rest of the evening.

Mind still buzzing with the work he had done that day, Dazai unlocked the door to his apartment and closed it behind himself. He noted that Chuuya’s shoes were already on the mat inside as he placed his own next to them, and he loosened his tie as he glanced around the rest of the flat and called, “chibi?”

“Bedroom!”Dazai shrugged off his coat and draped it over the back of a kitchen chair as he moved further into the apartment, “what was so important that you needed to know when I was getting off work?”

There was no reply. With a frown, Dazai entered the bedroom, and came to a complete halt.

A week had passed since the meeting with the minor gangs, and Chuuya hadn’t said a word about it, nor the incident with Kawasaki, implying that he had pushed them out of his mind and moved on. But the sight in front of Dazai indicated that Chuuya hadn’t pushed the incidents from mind at all.

Chuuya was standing in the middle of the room, his hands casually pushed into the pockets of his pants. He had shed most of his usual attire, both jackets and the vest were probably hanging in Dazai’s closet (next to half-a-dozen identical versions of the same outfit). But what caught Dazai’s attention was the choker settled around Chuuya’s neck. It was made of the same black leather that was a staple in the man’s wardrobe, only there was the addition of Dazai’s name, spelled out in silver letters.

Dazai prided himself in his self-control. It was what had allowed him to rise so rapidly in the ranks of the Port Mafia. It was how he was able to keep the organization in peak form despite being so young (and despite being in a relationship with his right-hand man, who was just as young). It was why he outburst with the Kawasaki group had been such a surprise to both of them. But the sight of Chuuya, proudly wearing Dazai’s name around his neck, ripped through that self-control in the space of a heartbeat.

All thoughts of his upcoming plans were gone, Dazai honestly couldn’t remember what he had been preoccupied with when he had first entered the apartment. He stepped further into the bedroom, the silver letters calling to him.

Chuuya was smirking, “cat got your tongue?”

As he spoke, the choker moved with his neck, and if Dazai hadn’t already been captivated by it, that alone would have pulled his gaze in an instant. For Dazai, there was nowhere else to look but where his name gleamed in the dim lighting, stark against black leather, and it only took another breath for Dazai to admit that he was ruined for this man. He crossed the distance between them in three quick strides and hooked a finger underneath the rim of the choker, tugging it forward so that Chuuya was only a hair’s breadth away from him.

“Chuuya,” Dazai barely recognized his own voice in the low rumble, “when did you get this?”

Dazai could feel as Chuuya swallowed before answering, “when I realized what a possessive bastard you are and decided to find some kind of outlet for it before you got the Port Mafia in trouble.”

Dazai brushed his thumb along the edge of the ‘Z’ that sat prominently above the hollow of Chuuya’s throat, trying to temper the fire that was threatening to consume him. Part of Dazai was desperately trying to regain control, reasoning that Chuuya wasn’t quite aware the dangerous line he was toeing. Even though Chuuya knew about Dazai’s possessive tendencies, the fight for control over his emotions in this regard to their relationship was something he tried to keep hidden.