Work Text:
"This one is fire."
Chuuya says, his eyes holding a tinge of awe in them as he sees the several tattoos displayed on his Pinterest page, focusing on the snake tattoo on the back of the stranger. Dazai doesn't seem to share his excitement though, his face turned into a slight grimace, his lazy ass settled beside Chuuya. They are both splayed out in their respective armchairs, yet are practically clinging to each other. Chuuya scowls seeing his expression.
"Don't tell me you don't like this." He snaps, how can someone not like this? This is art.
"There's just too many things to look at! Too much information, it overwhelms my vision chibi." Dazai whines, covering his eyes, as if being blinded by the tattoo.
Bullshit. Chuuya thinks, but doesn't comment on it, swiping for more options. He was just scrolling through Pinterest, trying to escape the boredom before Dazai also joined in. They saw various 'tips on how to write', artworks, cooking materials and so on, before settling on a tattoo post which led them into the world of beautiful ink on skin, exploring and judging a variety of them. Now, the harmful rays emitted by the screen just make his mind duller and his eyes hurt from the strain. Yet he doesn't stop.
"Why are we even looking at this? It's not like we'll be able to get tattoos now. We are just teens." Chuuya complains, his lips set on a temporary pout before he forms them into a thin line. He is clueless as to whether minors can just go to tattoo shops and be allowed to fulfill their wishes, and frankly, he doesn't care. But, if his father gets to know what their precious son did to his body, he is going to freak out. And nothing is more dangerous than a freaked out Arthur Rimbaud.
"Chuuya is finally correct on something. Looking at this will just increase our desires of getting a tattoo, whilst not being able to get one, which will be frustrating. My dog has become so smart!" Dazai exclaimed. The comment did earn him a punch on the gut though.
"Asshole, shut your mouth." Chuuya grumbles.
Dazai throws a fit of laughter, with coughs thrown in between them due to the impact of the punch. His laughter dies down slowly, being reduced to few chuckles and then a final sigh of good laughter.
"What if, instead of tattoos, people painted their backs?" Dazai says while chuckling.
He clearly meant it as a joke, but both their faces shift into a....consideration of sorts before their eyes widen at the same time, the wheels of their brain working as things click.
"That's a fucking good idea." Chuuya says triumphantly.
"Of course it is, I suggested it." There goes that cocky bastard.
Chuuya huffs before smiling slightly, gleeful at the upcoming events and how they are going to approach this. Unfortunately, they know nothing about art, but of course, challenges are always exciting.
"Is paint good for skin?" Chuuya asks, a little unsure. He doesn't want to cause any skin related problems, especially since the other's skin is already sensitive and covered with scars and bandages. Though, there are no scars on Dazai's back, so it should be fine...is what he hopes.
Dazai shrugs, not really concerned. "Water based paints are safe, they are not harmful for the skin. It's fine slug, really. I'll be going with ink though, more of a tattoo effect, you know?"
Chuuya hums, though never having done art, he feels more comfortable at the thought of using paint.
"We don't have any paint though..."
Dazai snorts at that, "And? I'm sure our legs can walk and let us buy paint from nearby stores. Or has my dog become too lazy? We can't have that." His face is almost met by a harsh throw of a pillow, but he dodges it as quickly as it was thrown, the poor pillow now on the ground. Dazai looks at the scowl etched of the redhead's face, his own lips turning into a grin at the sight.
☆☆☆
"Are we hundred percent doing this?"
They had bought the paint, running hurriedly back to Chuuya's house to save themselves from the drizzle which announced itself quite suddenly. Currently, they are locked in Chuuya's home, the rain pattering against the roof and windows of the house, a fresh stock of paint, brushes and pens scattered around the bed.
Dazai doesn't answer his question verbally, already pulling his shirt and tossing it away, and Chuuya takes that as a yes. His watches the other slowly unwrap his bandages, them falling on the ground and collecting in heaps, revealing harsh red lines on his pale body. They have done this a few times, being vulnerable and showing each other a side they themselves find ugly. It's like healing, a broken wound getting fixed.
They both heal something of the other which they didn't even break. It's beautiful.
Chuuya takes his own shirt off, suddenly feeling a little too hot for his own liking, as he sees Dazai stride over to him. The bed dips and creaks slightly as Dazai sits in front of him. The redhead sees the way the scars decorate his torso, some paled but some still new. Dazai has always been lithe, and it's visible by his collarbones and overall bony structure.
"I should probably lie down."
It's spoken as a whisper, as if the brunette is afraid he'll break the silence and tension which surrounds them. He turns around, and lies on the soft sheets, his back now facing the ceiling. Chuuya reaches a hand out, softly touching the other's back, fingertips dancing his way up the other's spine, feeling the smooth skin. This is so real, and he gets terrified at his own heart thumping wildly inside.
Dazai puts his arms forward and folds them, resting his head on their top as he gets more comfortable. Chuuya also shifts, putting his weight, albeit lightly, on top of the end of the brunette's back. He sees the shoulder blades flex and relax as Dazai releases the tension, and the sight makes him gulp down his own saliva.
They have shared some light kisses, quick peck on the lips but they have never really indulged. So obviously Chuuya gets flustered when he bends down, placing soft, very soft, kisses, his lips touching the skin underneath. It's not even a kiss, really, just a brush of his lips. He keeps his mouth open, hot breaths coming out which rises goosebumps on Dazai's back.
"Can I, Osamu?" There is no visible discomfort or refusal from the other side, yet he still asks.
"Yes please." Dazai breathes out immediately, surprising the both of them at his own shuddered voice, an indication of how affected he is.
The redhead takes this as permission to press light kisses all over his back, lips tracing his spine from bottom to all the way up, both his hands rubbing over the skin in a soothing gesture. Everything is so light, so gentle, and it's enough to make Dazai lightheaded, as if he is high.
It all stops as quickly as it started though, and the brunette fights a whine as he feels those hands and lips move away from him. He hears some sounds, and realizes that Chuuya is probably rummaging through the contents sprawled across the bed.
After a few moments, instead of the lips he so liked, there is a light, hair-like sensation which makes his back tickle, and something wet, paint, he recognizes. The paint feels cold against his back, its peculiar yet comforting smell drifting around the air, and Dazai flares his nostrils to sniff the scent. He closes his eyes.
Chuuya's hands shake a little. Why is he so nervous? God. He has a reference photo pulled up in his phone, pink and white tulips shining in the bright sunlight, as he tries to copy it down. The strokes are a mess. They are getting everywhere, the quivering of his hands not helping his case, and it's becoming more and more difficult to even draw.
It's irritating. Why did he even agree to this? His anger causes him to shiver more, his thoughts becoming a mess and he throws the bursh away, causing the paint to spread out across and against the white sheets. The redhead's eyes widen a bit, as he clasps his mouth at the further mess he created.
"Chuuya are you oka- oh."
Dazai quiets down, his mouth forming a thin 'o', as he sees pink dirtying the sheets, the brush forgotten on the edge of the bed. Then he chuckles a bit.
"Chuuya should learn how to calm down. Look what you temper caused. Your dad is going to kill you."
Chuuya scowls at that, muttering a quiet 'shut up' before he shifts his focus back to his work– here painting Dazai's back. Without thinking much, he picks up the pink paint (which was already squeezed out on the palette) with his index finger, and starts again.
Painting with his fingers is surprisingly easier. It gives him more control over his movements, and he can feel so much more. Feel the wet paint slowly drying against his fingers, feel it spread out across the other's warm surface. He feels like he is actually doing art, although a shitty one, but he feels.
He takes a green, drawing the stems and leaves. Then the white, for more tulips, he even adds more pink. He takes darker shades of the same colors, rendering and making them alive. His hands are colored and dirty, his face also has streaks of paint due to him occasionally itching and rubbing his cheeks. He wants to drown. Drown in this paint, in the smell of colors, in Dazai, in this moment.
Dazai is breathing heavily. The tingle of the redhead's fingers is so good. Goosebumps rise with every sensation, every breath, every stroke of wet paint against his skin. He grinds his teeth together so as to not let any whimper or embarrassing noise fall from his mouth. He is sure his cheeks are already tinted red (good thing his head is faced downwards to the bed), and the last thing he needs is further embarrassment.
Hours pass, or maybe it is minutes, but enough time has passed for the pink paint scattered over the bed to dry. Eventually Chuuya's voice comes saying,
"Done."
The brunette breathes out a long, deep sigh, his whole body deflating as the tensions ebbs away. "My turn then, Chuu-ya."
Chuuya scowls at his name being stretched out like that but pushes himself away from where he was sitting, laying down the bed and mirroring Dazai's previous position. Dazai also shifts, now sitting just above Chuuya's hips as his breath gets knocked out by the wonderful sight.
The freckles are thousands, no, millions which cover his back. So small and so many, but Dazai wouldn't mind counting them, especially with his lips. He doesn't though, hands tearing off the packet of freshly bought black pens and taking one out. He searches Chuuya's Pinterest for references, stopping on one of those typical spider tattoos. Except the spider's legs are designed in a way that it looks like a butterfly, and although the thought of spiders makes him want to puke, his stomach does a weird somersault upon imagining that tattoo inked on Chuuya's back, so he puts the phone upright with a pillow as its support.
He picks the place between his shoulder blades, clicking off the pen's cap. He rubs the skin softly with one of his wide palms, feeling the body heat of Chuuya before starting his work. He puts the tip of the black pen a little too harshly due to his own nervousness, making the redhead wince slightly.
"Sorry." The redhead hums quietly at Dazai's whispered apology.
Dazai makes a rough shape of the spider very lightly. It's not good, but....mehh. He draws the eery legs, which make him squirm but he resists the feeling. After the rough sketch, he darkens the lines. His hand is unsteady, the lines are squiggly and messy, but he doesn't care.
The discomfort of every uneven stroke on his back plus the giddy feeling inside his heart makes Chuuya sigh out loud into the cotton sheets. He feels hot. His heart thuds violently in his chest. He's sure his face is red too. Embarrassing.
Finally the pen work ends, and Dazai uses his fingers to lightly smudge his artwork. It ruins it all the more. Oh well. He sits up from where he was bending a little and he feels the somewhat dried paint on his back stretch and pull at his skin. He smiles internally at the feeling.
The brunette shifts, getting off the other and sitting on the edge of the bed. It's his silent way of saying 'I'm done'. Chuuya also gets up, his poor arm feeling numb with all the pressure it had while laying down. He sees Dazai take out a pack of cigarettes from the bottom most drawer -the packets of cigs which Chuuya hides from his parents- and take two out, along with a lighter.
Their fingers brush slightly as Dazai hands one to the redhead, putting one in his own mouth. He lights the both of them, first his then Chuuya's, and takes a long drag. Their smokes curl up in the air as they both exhale, the polluted air mixing with each other and the atmosphere. Chuuya gets up to open one of the windows.
It's still raining, though it has lessened quite a lot. The sound of it increases due to the open window, some sparks of droplets coming inside the room. It's quiet, save for the rain. Drawing on each other was an....intimate moment. Something to cherish. And honestly, both these silly boys don't know what to do after you officially, even if slightly, cross some boundaries.
That's how they do things. They slowly cross the limits which they have unknowingly set, and if the other person is okay, they continue doing it. It's the 'Soukouku style', you may say.
"Your hair looks silly, Nakahara. Just like you" Daza says while chuckling, but there is a hidden fondness in his tone. The air and moisture has made the long and luscious ginger locks frizzy and in a state of their own. It looks endearing and pretty. He doesn't say that though. His mouth is made to spew insults at the redhead instead of what really goes through his mind.
The Nakahara in question just scowls, standing and looking outside the window with the cigarette in hand. Dazai also gets up, his cigarette stubbed and thrown in the trash long ago, stalking closer to the redhead and finally standing behind him. He feels bold, maybe due to the high that comes with smoking. His fingers trace the spider tattoo so clearly visible and soon, he replaces his fingers with his mouth. His lips slowly trace the outline of the black ink, so beautiful against the pale skin. He feels Chuuya shudder.
The brunette grips the other's arms with his long fingers, turning him around. He sees Chuuya's flustered expression and it makes his heart churn weirdly. His eyebrows are reddish orange, just like his hair, though those long strands are more fiery. Fierce they are, just like his eyes, one grayish blue and the other chocolate brown. So unique. So admirable. The freckles which dust his whole skin are a little less visible, perhaps due to the lack of sunshine because of the dark clouds outside. Those lips, God, Dazai wants to bite at them.
And he does. Well, not exactly bite, but he does give them a little peck. Chuuya quickly puts out his cancer stick, rubbing its butt against the wall and dropping it on the floor. His arms quickly cup Dazai's face, calloused thumbs rubbing the skin in soft circles before he gets on his tip toes to deliver one of the best kisses they have ever shared.
Chuuya kisses the upper lip, then the lower one, his mouth slightly parted as Dazai feels the warm breath on his lips. It is still small pecks, done repeatedly. The brunette feels the other close his lips around him, then open it, close it again and then open it. Like a cycle. Unfortunately, it doesn't last long.
The redhead pulls away, nail marks visible on his shoulders from where Dazai was gripping him, and goes back to sit on the bed, leaning against the bare wall to which the bed is attached. Dazai picks the cigarette which the slug threw on the ground, throwing it in the small trashcan along the way to his walk to Chuuya.
No way is he going to let the redhead tease him like that. Giving him a ray of hope for something new, and then breaking it and smirking? No fucking way. Dazai sits across the other man, who still has a hint of smirk on those gorgeous lips. He puts his fingers close to the redhead's neck, tucking them underneath his choker. The latex feels soft, good, a sense of power. And he makes sure to use it. Tugging at the choker, he pulls the shorter man closer and captures his lips onto another kiss. But is it just repeated pecks on the lips?
Oh hell no.
Dazai opens his whole mouth, kissing the redhead again and again till he feels the other's jaw going slack, welcoming anything that comes inside his mouth. The brunette pushes his tongue inside and they both let out a lewd moan at the feeling. Their tongues swirl in a dance and clash as if having a battle. Chuuya's arms come wrap his neck, fingers softly brush those golden brown locks, tightening the grip as their kisses deepen more and more.
Dazai can taste the cigarette and something distinctly Chuuya, their sounds of kissing vibrate against his ears, and their tongues and mouth fit so perfectly. It scratches Dazai's brain, a excitement growing further and further at his groin. He runs his tongue across those teeth, feels them bite his bottom lips until blood pours out.
It is rough, messy and inexperienced. Dazai pulls the other forward till the redhead sits on his lap, his arms snaking around his waist. With every touch of skin, Chuuya feels feverish and hot, the kiss growing sloppier and desperate.
The kiss breaks as they both pant on each other's mouths, resting their foreheads together. God he feels so good. The feeling of his hands as Chuuya cups his face, delivering a small yet bruising kiss on his forehead.
Chuuya's mind swirls. His heart tingles along with his skin, eyes dazed and hazy by the kiss. He sees Dazai, lips swollen and red, a little blood dripping, heavy breaths coming out of the said mouth, he sees him lick the blood. Those usual chocolate brown eyes have turned black, dark and hazy as if he'll swallow Chuuya whole, it makes him shiver.
Thankfully they had locked their door, because a moment later the doorknob turns, or well, tries to. The door clatters a little, before the person gives up, knocking loudly on the door.
"Chuuya! You in there? Why lock the door?" A sharp edged, though elegant, voice comes, a little muffled, from the other side of the wooden door.
All the built up tension vanishes and Chuuya jumps, wiping his lips and running to the door, openin it slightly.
"What?"
Right outside, stands Kouyou Ozaki, Chuuya's sister, with a stern glare and furrowed eyebrows. Her eyes are narrowed in suspicion which makes both Dazai and her brother roll their eyes.
"What are you hiding?" She asks.
"Nothing Kouyou, we were just painting for God's sakes."
"No need to lock the door then Nakahara."
"Fuck off, Ozaki."
Dazai laughs, boy was this going to be long.