Work Text:
Dazai is a patient man.
Or at least he likes to think so.
He waited eight years to fuck Chuuya, and then another five months just to get a date— the date itself being a point of contention for Chuuya’s mother, and it had taken a while to even get to the point where she hadn't been adamantly against the idea. That was until the redhead managed to convince her that they met outside of their bi-yearly doctor's appointments, and hit it off. It was a lie, but Chuuya had been more than willing to lie if it meant being allowed to date Dazai.
(Of course, after their first date, it became improper for Dazai to stay as Chuuya's doctor.
That was fine though. Dazai had already managed to catch Chuuya. To make him his— wholly and unequivocally his. Dazai didn't need to be the redhead's doctor anymore.
And Chuuya's medical kink can be dealt with in other ways)
But even a man with his patience has limits.
And it seems that Chuuya is trying to push those limits today. To step over them like they're nothing.
Yeah, they’ve fucked— they've fucked a lot— and yeah Dazai had an inkling that his redhead liked pretty things; but it’s one thing to dress his baby up in pink, frilly lingerie and fuck him stupid, it’s another to see him wearing skirts, thigh-highs and a crop top out in public on his own accord.
Dazai has no problem with it though— quite on the contrary, he’d love nothing more to leave it all on and take his sweet time with the boy until he’s sobbing from overstimulation. But Chuuya won’t let him touch.
If the brunet reaches his fingers out to trail them over the swell of those sock-covered thighs, he gets slapped away. Or at the very least a stern pout that Dazai wants to bite off his face.
The doctor has no one to blame but himself though. It's his fault— since they've officially gotten together, he's done nothing but encouraged Chuuya to step out of his shell, to show off and have fun regardless of what anyone else says.
But thigh-highs?
In public!?
As much as Dazai appreciates the way they look (and the way they hug his thighs perfectly, nipping into pale, unblemished skin) he doesn't appreciate that everyone else can also see.
Dazai doesn't think it's meant tease, at least not on purpose. That's not Chuuya's style. He probably just wanted to show himself off, or maybe it was to encourage Dazai to end their date a little early and take him home. Who knows.
One thing they both know is that one way or another, Dazai will have Chuuya underneath him in their playroom. Nothing he does or wears will change that. It only spurs him on, gets him hotter, makes his fingers itch with the desire to grab and tug and pull until he has the redhead broken in his hands. Melting into his touch like a puppet.
Tonight is a game that both of them will win.
That was the whole premise of the date.
As long as Chuuya is on his best behaviour, Dazai will reward him with a scene— something thoroughly out of his control, something that Dazai has been setting up all week.
And while Chuuya misbehaving would cost him that game, they both know that won't happen.
Chuuya is too well-behaved for that, at least within their kink; Outside of their games, he can be a brat.
As soon as they’re stepping through the door of Dazai’s apartment though, all bets are off. The game ends with their date as the door closes behind them. Locked for the foreseeable future while Dazai begins the process of taking his baby apart, piece by adorable piece.
Chuuya yelps as he's scooped up, large hands holding him by the hips as he's cornered against the wall.
“Hey!” he shouts indignantly, hands slapping at Dazai’s shoulders playfully even as he instinctively wraps his legs around the man's waist.
“Date's over sweetheart,” he whispers against the redhead's lips with a grin. Leaning in to nip at his lower lip, soothing the bite with a brush of his tongue. “You were very good, do you wanna see what I've got planned?”
Chuuya laughs at him, leaning down to meet him in a kiss. His fingers tangling in brown hair as their lips slide together.
It’s not their first kiss, but it feels just as special. As does every kiss they share, whether it's a quick goodbye or a lengthy makeout session.
Dazai hisses as small, blunt teeth dig into the flesh of his lower lip, tongue lapping at it in apology. It's good. It's always good with Chuuya. Dazai licks into the redhead's mouth, tongue running over his teeth and tongue and the roof of his mouth, until Chuuya is out of breath and pulling away. Letting Dazai hold his weight against the wall.
“Please,” he whispers, diving back down to kiss Dazai. His nails scratching at the brunet's scalp deliciously as he tries desperately to drag him closer.
Dazai lets him, squishing him against the wall in retaliation for all the little bites and nips he leaves behind to press a quick kiss to the tip of Chuuya’s nose. His face scrunches up, eyes wrinkling as he giggles. It's cute, childish almost. Dazai loves it— loves seeing Chuuya happy. So he does it again, and again; listening out for the redheads half-laughs and squeaks as he squirms in Dazai’s arms. A silly attempt at escape— they both know Chuuya can’t escape Dazai, not anymore. But then the redhead is a little too naïve to realise he should want to.
Carrying Chuuya through the hallways, Dazai shifts him to one arm, the other reaching for the handle of their playroom. “Close your eyes for me, little one.”
Chuuya does as he’s told— of course he does, he's such a good boy— copper lashes fluttering against his skin as he clings to Dazai’s shoulders. Smile still plastered across his face as he waits for Dazai to start their night properly.
The door closes behind them with a click; Chuuya shivers in his grip.
Dazai has spent the better part of a few days redoing a section of this room to suit today's scene— all the while keeping the boy out. Ever since they made their deal, he’s been planning the details of this scene down to the minute.
Suffice it to say, Chuuya is in for a treat tonight.
It’s all his kinks rolled into one, in a makeshift doctor's office— complete with a medical cot, rolling desk chair, equipment that Dazai may or may not have taken from the hospital, and stirrups, hidden at the sides so they’re not immediately visible. It's an almost perfect replica of Dazai's own office— where everything started, over eight years ago.
Chuuya keeps his eyes tightly shut, Dazai hasn’t told him to open them yet. Only sat him down on something cold, the fabric of his skirt doing very little to protect him. Something crinkles like paper beneath his thighs as he shifts, and there’s the faint, familiar, scent of antiseptic. His heart pounds in his chest, the scent, the feel of the room, it all feels so real.
This is their playroom, Dazai must have done something new for their scene today. Especially after locking him out for the better part of a week.
Chuuya doesn’t want to get his hopes up though, just in case it’s not what he thinks it is. Just in case Dazai is being cruel, teasing him with something for the future.
“Open your eyes,” he says finally, his voice clear and clinically detached.
Chuuya shivers at the tone. Eyes blinking open as Dazai instructed. The scene before him has Chuuya's heart skipping a beat. Breath catching in his throat.
Dazai stands a few feet from him, doctor’s coat over his shoulders, the sleeve rolled up, clipboard in hand as he checks his watch, and an easy smile across his lips as he watches Chuuya take in the room. Something about his eyes, the way he looks at the redhead has him feeling like prey. Trapped inside a little cage as he's studied by the doctor.
It's unfairly attractive.
He looks at the medical cot under his thighs, it’s high enough that his feet don’t touch the floor— something subtle, to make sure Chuuya feels small. The redhead’s eyes dart around the set, making sure to cover every little detail that makes the place more realistic. Dazai knows it’s not perfect. He can’t replicate the sterile air of an actual hospital, their playroom just isn’t built for that, but for now, this is enough.
It's better he takes it all in now. He won't be able to focus on his surroundings when Dazai gets his hands on him.
“Chuuya-kun.”
The redhead straightens up. Thighs clenching together under the pink chequered skirt, fingers gripping the edge of the cot nervously. “Dazai-sensei,” he whispers back.
“We have a few things to go through today, so shall we get on with it?” Dazai tries to keep it professional— Chuuya had confessed that it made it hotter, more realistic. So the doctor is going to stick to that, even if it means biting his cheek to stop a smile or holding in a joke.
The redhead nods, hair falling around his face, spilling over his shoulders like a waterfall of scarlet curls.
“Good,” Dazai says, letting his words hang between them to build anticipation as he reads over the clipboard— it's not the first time he's reread it, and definitely not the second either. Each skim over the words sends Dazai reeling, growing harder and hotter with each bullet point describing exactly what he's going to do to Chuuya. “Now normally I’d ask my patient to strip for this, but considering you put so much effort into your outfit, I’m only going to ask that you remove your underwear.”
It’s hard trying to sound detached, Dazai thinks as he watches Chuuya’s face and neck flush a pretty pink. Shakily reaching under his skirt to tug off his underwear— it’s even harder to keep his composure when Chuuya pushes lacy underwear down his legs. Shyly looking away from Dazai as he removes them.
Holding his hand out, Dazai waits with a blank face. Nodding silently as the lingerie is placed in his hand. Chuuya's been wearing these their whole date, he thinks as he stuffs them into his pocket for later use. The thought makes his cock twitch in its confines.
“Put this on please,” he says instead of commenting out loud, handing Chuuya a black blindfold.
He looks at it for a second, hesitating, before tying it around his head. Plunging his world into darkness. It's a different kind of excitement, being deprived of one of his senses. Especially something as important as sight. Every little touch feels so much better, so much newer. Like he's never been touched before.
Dazai shuffles around him, Chuuya's heart races.
The muscles in the redhead's thighs tense as Dazai lays a hand on them. Thumbing over the elastic of his socks as it digs into the flesh. Chuuya tries to stay still, letting the doctor do as he pleases.
"Lay down for me then," Dazai hums. Stepping away from the bed to let Chuuya's legs swing up. His palm smoothing down the skirt, brushing over the bulge of Chuuya's quickly growing erection.
He reaches down in silence, adjusting the stirrups so they stand up at the end of the cot. Chuuya's breath hitches, thighs rubbing together, his hearing straining to listen for every little movement Dazai makes. “Move down the bed and we can get you strapped in.”
Dazai helps him out after a second of shuffling, pulling the boy down by the ankle until his legs hang off the cot. He has to bite back a laugh at the shocked yelp he gets. Nudging Chuuya's legs up until they're both securely strapped into the stirrups. His thighs spread, trembling in place.
It hadn't been easy, coming up with something new while still catering to Chuuya's medical kink. The stirrups were a perfect find though— the leather straps across the ankle are certainly not fit for a real hospital, but that doesn't matter here. All that matters is that, no matter how much Chuuya wriggles, he'll stay right where he is.
Of course, if he really wants to get out, they have their safewords.
But judging by his growing hard-on tenting his skirt, and the muffled panting from above, Chuuya doesn’t want to be anywhere but here.
With a metal tray in hand, Dazai drags his desk chair to the end of the cot, sitting between Chuuya’s spread thighs. Smoothing his hands up the thigh highs to feel the boy shudder. How long has Chuuya owned these without his knowledge? How many times has he worn this skirt, thinking about Dazai between his legs?
It’s always amazed Dazai how Chuuya continues to surprise him. A hand wrapping around his thigh as he admires the boy— another thing that continues to surprise him is how small Chuuya is under his hands. One hand is almost engulfs his thigh, making him appear tiny, fingers digging into the flesh. He squeezes, humming as his fingertips dig in further, pressing dents into the skin, admiring the feel of hidden muscle. It takes so little effort to manhandle him too. Dazai gets dizzy just thinking about it.
Chuuya knows he’s shaking, he can’t help it. All Dazai is doing is admiring him, feeling him up, flipping his skirt up so it's out of the way of his view.
A tray is placed to his side, metal objects rolling and clanking together as Dazai shifts his tools around; picking them up and putting them down. It's horrible. Chuuya doesn't know if Dazai is going to touch him or leave him— use toys or his hands. He picks up one thing, waiting long enough for Chuuya to think 'This is the one' before he drops it to do the same thing again. It's driving Chuuya crazy.
Latex snaps as the doctor pulls on a pair of gloves. It rings in Chuuya's ears, almost as loud as his own heartbeat.
Cool latex fingers tug at his thigh highs. Snapping the elastic against his skin to hear the snap, before descending further down, pressing gently at the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.
“Let's get started then, shall we?” Dazai asks— Chuuya is almost certain he's grinning. “From our previous appointments, I already know you're quite sensitive. Today we’re going to test that. See exactly how sensitive you are.”
Oh no… Chuuya knows exactly what that means.
Dazai picks something up, the sound of metal on metal echoing through the room. The click of a cap joining it as Dazai opens a bottle of lube, pouring some into the palm of his gloved hands.
The redhead is embarrassingly hard already, breath uneven and shaky and they've barely done anything yet. He wonders which route Dazai will take this time— either he’ll force Chuuya into as many orgasms as he sees fit, or he’ll deny him until he’s dripping and red and his dick feels like it’s about to fall off. He’s done both before.
The doctor's palm wraps around his cock without warning, stroking him with a firm, tight grip. Lube cold against heated flesh. He hisses, and then the contact is gone as quickly as it arrived, a whine falling from Chuuya's parted lips.
Dazai doesn’t comment on the noises. Too busy doing his own thing, acting professional— picking something up, putting something down again. The sound of scribbling on paper, making Chuuya feel like some kind of lab experiment. Tied down and experimented on, under the cold, calculating gaze of a disinterested doctor. His cock twitches at the thought.
The clipboard is put down with a clatter, and then something cold, and ring-shaped is being pressed to the tip of his cock. A silicone ring stretched around the head and rolled down the shaft with one quick tug. Chuuya keens at the sudden pressure, half-broken sobs spilling from his throat at the familiar feeling of the cock ring.
Dazai is going to break him. There's no doubt about it in Chuuya's mind anymore.
“There we go,” the doctor says with a hum, flicking the tip of the redhead's cock, feeling it jolt as the boy whimpers, high and loud, from the other end of the cot. “That’ll make sure our fun doesn’t end too quickly.”
There’s something fun in talking at Chuuya rather than to him. And he’s sure he's not the only one enjoying it. The redhead is already leaking, precum beading at his slit, dripping down the side.
He’s cute.
He makes a beautiful sight like this, tied down across a medical cot— but then Dazai's always thought that. Dazai flicks him again just to prove a point. Thumb brushing over the head, stroking him lightly until his thighs strain, desperate to move, to clamp down around Dazai.
With the silicon cock ring sitting snugly at the base of Chuuya’s dick, Dazai can get to work on really making the most of this situation.
Chuuya whines pathetically as Dazai moves his hand. His poor, red cock pillowed on the skirt— the fabric almost certainly feeling uncomfortable against such a sensitive area.
The first thing he picks up off the tray is a feather. A long, white, silky feather. It’s fake, obviously, but it’s soft to the touch, and the quill is sharp, and that’s all that matters.
Dazai feels it through his gloves, brushes it over the palm of his gloved-covered hand. It tickles, ever so slightly. The doctor can’t wait to see Chuuya’s reaction.
Gently, so gently, Dazai takes Chuuya’s cock between his thumb and forefinger, holding it in place as he slowly lowers the feather to the tip.
His cock twitches in Dazai’s hold, and Chuuya makes a confused, whimpering sound in the back of his throat before it melts into a squeal. The feather dancing down the shaft, soft edges brushing against the vein running up the underside.
The redhead squeaks and whines in between laughs, hips trying to buck into the touch as Dazai teases him. Running the feather down the shaft, and up over the head. Dipping the feathery tip into the slit, and twirling it— listening to the sharp intake of breath from the boy as he tries to hold still, tries not to make too much noise. He fails at it all, whimpering and giggling and moaning as Dazai trails the feather around the base of his cock, along his inner thighs and over his balls.
Dazai stays silent, letting Chuuya’s noises fill the room until it's all either of them can hear. Loud and high and whiny. Dazai loves every second of it.
And when Chuuya’s whines become sobs, a damp patch forming on the blindfold, he flips the feather around. Trailing the sharp, pointed end of the quill up the side of Chuuya’s cock. Listening to the yelp he makes, the shudders as his dick twitches at the stinging, sharpness of pain.
He really does look lovely like this, Dazai notes as he gives the boy a break, scratching his pen over the paper on the clipboard. The shivers that wrack Chuuya’s body, the crop top that’s been pushed up under his arms from all his attempts at writhing, his skin flushed such a pretty pink. Even the clenching of his fists by his side as he does his best to stay still, to not touch anything— he hasn't been permitted to touch anything after all.
When Chuuya’s calmed down, Dazai picks up his next item.
A long, metal sound.
Sounding was something they’d only tried a few times— and while Chuuya had enjoyed it immensely each time, Dazai had never introduced a vibrating sound. It’s the same width as the biggest one they’ve ever used, so Dazai doesn’t think the redhead will have many issues taking it.
The first touch of cold metal on heated flesh makes Chuuya shudder, breath catching in his throat as he tries to relax into the feeling of slick, cold metal dragging up the side of his cock. The feeling sets Chuuya on edge, liquid fire pounding through his veins and in his ears, as the metal traces mindless lines around his shaft. It's a heat that's only ever brought on by scenes like this; normal sex gets him hot and hard, but something kinky— something medical— melts Chuuya into a putty. Into a living, breathing, willing experiment for his doctor to play with as he pleases.
The redhead shakes on the cot as the metal winds closer and closer to the tip of his cock. A quick tap against the head is all the warning Chuuya gets before Dazai is gently pressing the tip to his slit. Cock jolting in the doctor's hands as he’s held still, letting the sound slide down, stretching his slit as it goes.
And it burns. Chuuya hisses as it goes, sobbing with a mix of pleasure and discomfort. They haven’t done this enough for Chuuya to be used to the stretch— it feels new every time, stinging as Dazai guides the sound deeper with gentle pressure.
The redhead breathes a sigh of relief as it stops. The end sat comfortably at the head of his cock, precum bubbling up around it and drooling down the side of his dick.
Dazai watches with a grin as Chuuya’s cock jolts and twitches whenever he taps at the sound. For a second, only a second, Dazai feels a little bad. Chuuya’s cock is an angry red, wet and slick with precum, and painfully hard. Briefly, Dazai considers giving him some release… but where’s the fun in that?
Instead, he flicks on the vibrations, holding back a laugh as Chuuya all but screams.
Not for the first time, he’s glad they soundproofed this room.
Dazai watches in quiet amusement as Chuuya wriggles and squirms hopelessly, desperate to try and get away from the vibrations. Nothing he does will lessen the sensation though, and Dazai certainly isn’t about to turn it off.
Taking the end of the sound between two fingers, and holding Chuuya’s cock up with the other hand, Dazai lifts the rod out, just to let go again. Watching it sink back down slowly as the redhead sobs.
“P—Please!” he cries, it’s the first word Dazai has been able to make out from his intelligible garbling.
“What are you begging for?” Dazai asks, attempting to sound as bored as possible as he picks up the clipboard and pen again.
“I… I wanna come— please!”
The doctor hums, picking up the sound again and twirling it, plunging it in and out of the redhead's slit until his rambling and begging become nonsense again. In any ordinary situation, Dazai would coo over him, tell him how pretty he is, slit stretched so wide and red around the metal. How he's doing so good, letting Dazai fuck his cock with the sound. And he wants to, god he wants to. But he knows Chuuya doesn't want that. Chuuya wants him detached and disinterested, and as much as it pains Dazai to keep his mouth shut, he will. For his baby.
Chuuya’s never felt anything this intense— this overwhelming. His entire body tingles, numbness spreading as the stretch becomes pleasurable, pain melting away. Feeling himself moan into the touches, into the hands on his thighs and dick, until he can’t tell up from down from left from right and he feels like he’s falling.
But it’s so nice. Falling into the hazy feeling of pleasure and comfort and safety knowing it's Dazai's hands he's falling into. Only able to make the vaguest noises of pleasure as Dazai keeps going— twirling the sound again, pulling it out, letting it drop until Chuuya can feel it in his heart.
Dazai asks him something, too far away to be heard. He doesn't even feel when the vibrations stop, the sound removed, leaving him feeling entirely too empty and sore. The cock ring is taken off next, as gently as the doctor can manage although it still earns him a low whine. Dazai presses a kiss to the inside of his knee to soothe him as he takes the redhead's dick in hand. Carefully working him up to a mindblowing orgasm with soft strokes and whispers that he can't quite make out.
When Chuuya comes with a satisfied sigh and a shudder, Dazai stands up. Returning with a damp cloth to clean up, mindful of the boy's sore cock. Unbuckling the stirrups and helping Chuuya stretch out his legs, Dazai removes the blindfold.
The redhead stays stretched out comfortably on the medical cot though— still very clearly in that hazy feeling of subspace.
Subspace wasn't in his plans for today, but he isn't about to complain. He doubts Chuuya would either.
Being careful not to jostle Chuuya is a little difficult— every little movement makes him sniff and whine in the back of his throat. Clinging to Dazai as he's carried into their bedroom (technically it's just Dazai's bedroom, but with Chuuya here so often, there's no harm in calling it theirs) and changing him into a pair of comfortable pyjamas.
He needs to eat and drink something, and then Dazai needs to take a shower. His erection still strains in his trousers, painfully hard. But Dazai doesn't mind a little delayed gratification. He can have Chuuya return the favour when he's more aware of himself. Until then, the redhead rests in his lap. Cheek laying over Dazai's thighs as he dozes.
Chuuya doesn't know how long it takes to feel his limbs again.
When he does, he stretches, hearing his joints click from stiffness, his entire body tingling with pins and needles. Every muscle aching with a satisfied soreness.
“Welcome back, little one,” Dazai whispers to him, brushing a hand through red hair, tucking it behind his ears.
“Mmm…” Chuuya melts into the touch. Pushing into Dazai’s hands like a cat. “Wha’ happened?” he mumbles sleepily.
“Subspace, love. How are you feeling?”
“Good...”
“Good.”
Dazai takes his time bringing Chuuya back, fetching a small bowl of fruit and hand-feeding him in between sips of water until it’s all gone.
They can talk more about the scene later. Right now they both need a shower and a good night's sleep.
Dazai can get off later too. He is a very patient man after all. He doesn’t mind one bit.