[Fanfiction] farce

Title: farce

Author: Vianna Orchidia 

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs
Character: Dazai Osamu/Nakahara Chuuya, Ozaki Kouyou

Rating: M
Genre: Humor, Romance??
Disclaimer: Bungou Stray Dogs is property of Asagiri Kafka and Harukawa Sango. I do not own the series and the characters, and I do not gain any profit from this fanfiction

Warning: Geisha AU, mild smut, Chuuya-centric, Chuuya's potty mouth (I mean, I tried). Repost from my AO3.

-story start-

The whole house had been buzzing with quick footsteps, ceaseless orders, and random panicked mutters here and there since early this morning. Truth to be told, three quarters of the wedding ceremony preparations that was to be held in this household had been done up to last night, but as expected the last-minute rush was unavoidable. Chuuya listened closely from his place in the room, following with his ears the heavy footsteps of Tachihara who had been passing his room for the fourth time now—who knew what he had in his arms this time—and the quiet, reserved voice of Kouyou who was giving out directions to the servants. Well, it was Kouyou. Chuuya knew the wedding ceremony would be flawless, just like everything Kouyou handled.

The problem was, he didn't wish for the wedding to happen. His wedding, to be precise. He wanted nothing more than to tear away from the ladies painting his face white and curling his hair into intricate shapes. He wanted to run away from this place, from this town, from the clutches of that high-class samurai he was going to marry.

“Chuuya,” Kouyou's cool voice pulled him out of the silent rage twirling in his body.

Without moving his body much in consideration for the ladies tending to his makeup, Chuuya regarded the owner of this establishment. “Kouyou-anesan,” his answer was flat. He made damn sure Kouyou could feel the dripping discontent in his tone.

The woman glared at him with narrowed eyes, her beautiful fan stretched open to hide the lower part of her face. “The groom will arrive in ten minutes.”

“I see.”

Chuuya's disinterested reply pushed the conversation into a halt, until Kouyou decided she had had enough of her protégé's irate attitude.

“Be careful, lad. This is your wedding,” she said sharply.

The redhead bride-to-be sneered. It's not usual he's this negative to the woman he had considered his own sister, but extreme times called for extreme measures. Chuuya let a snow-white cloth be draped on his head as he continued to smile in spite. “I don't remember asking for a wedding, though. I wasn't even one of your geisha. How did I get roped into this... this farce?”

Slapping her fan closed, Kouyou sighed exasperatedly. “He's an influential figure in this area. You know how things work here, Chuuya.”

“Did he even know he's marrying a male?”

At Chuuya's question, the older woman giggled heartily. She turned around gracefully and made to exit the room, unmistakably going to welcome the groom's party because time was running short. She gave her answer as a parting message, said airily and lightly as if she's talking about the cat next door.

“That is for you to find out, lad.”

---

 When he entered the main hall with small steps and saw that brunet training his gaze at him expectantly, Chuuya drew a shaky breath. The ladies escorting him would mistake it as one of nervousness, but he knew better. He was pissed off beyond reason. Damn Kouyou for being one shady vixen who would sell even him to gain money and popularity for her establishment. Well, it's not like he didn't learn a thing or two from her—he might or might not have seduced men and women alike on daily basis for his own advantage (and amusement)—but fuck it hurt to be the bargaining chip. And to a marriage, nonetheless. Matrimony was something he had never considered before, not because he respected it, but because it meant confinement to one person. He wouldn't be able to play around anymore! Damn.

Then there's this problem about his... well, seeing as the monk had declared them husband and wife, he supposed it made this man his husband, who was smiling gleefully at him, like he had just grasped the very essence of joy in his hands. For all Chuuya knew, this man didn't even know that he's not a girl. He had 'fallen in love at first sight' at Chuuya, who had been loitering around Kouyou's establishment in a female kimono, complete with the hair ornaments and painted lips. Yeah, well, Chuuya liked to flaunt his androgynous beauty (he's well aware of people calling him prettier than Kouyou's most popular girl), but never in his wildest dream did he expect a marriage proposal right off the bat like that!

Chuuya stole a glance to his right, where the brunet samurai was holding his sake cup high in celebration. There were white bandages covering his arms and neck, mostly hidden from view under his heavy wedding hakama, and he wondered idly if it continued down his torso. Perhaps he had gotten severely injured during one of his battles. Was he an incompetent samurai? Hmph. Maybe if Chuuya's lucky, his husband would die quickly and he would be free again. He allowed a small smile sneak in his features as he gracefully drank from his own cup.

“Chuuya.”

Chuuya's throat suddenly tightened at the mention of his name. It would be the first time he got addressed by the samurai today, and he had kind of forgotten how smooth his voice was, so much that it startled him out of his mind. The silky voice continued, “don't drink too much, okay?”

The way he drawled it made Chuuya couldn't stop the sultry quality in his voice either. “Why is that, Dazai-sama?”

Smiling widely but not without a suggestive glint in his eyes, the brunet took Chuuya's sake cup into his own and drank the remaining liquid. “I want to enjoy tonight with you.”

Pfft. So this guy knew how to flirt, fine. At least that was better than the 'Would you commit double suicide with me, o pretty lady?' he spewed on their first encounter. But Chuuya wouldn't be Chuuya if he got defeated here, on his turf. He would retaliate, fighting tooth and nail if he must, until he emerge victorious against this bastard.

Besides, Chuuya couldn't wait to see his reaction when they finally reached that stage of 'enjoying the night'.

“Why, Dazai-sama,” he watched the man's face from beneath long lashes, “forgive my presumptuousness, but it would seem to me that you've already had something in mind for tonight...?”

Dazai's eyes lit up in... was that mischief? “Actually I have.”

“Oh my, that's very thoughtful of you, Milord.”

“Nothing will stop me from pampering you, my dearest.”

Both of them chuckled lightly, not at all noticing the way their guests shivered at the sudden drop of temperature nor the way ceramic cups cracked under the sudden pressure in the air.

---

 It was well into the night. Chuuya pulled his yukata a bit closer with cold hands, his heart hammering quietly inside his ribcage. He did not want to admit it, but he was getting increasingly nervous as he neared the door to his 'newly-weds' room. Both he and Dazai had left the banquet hall only after all the guests went home, and it was already dark by then. Then he excused himself to get changed into something more suitable for sleep, or any other activities before sleep... though to be honest, Chuuya wasn't sure what to expect tonight. Oh well, the worst scenario that could happen was getting chased out of the bedroom. No big deal. He'd make sure Kouyou's name or properties remain unhurt, though.

But precisely because it was uncertain, Chuuya was getting cold feet right now. To make it worse, he still didn't know his husband well enough to make an educated guess of his reaction. The man looked stupid, what with that silly grin and apparently an obsession to suicide, but Chuuya was too sharp to miss the dark tension he emanated when talking to a certain black-haired man earlier at the banquet. It was definitely not the aura of a naive man. Unfortunately, that was all the leads he had. No indication whatsover to the brunet's sexual orientation or if he knew Chuuya's real identity.

He's practically diving head-first into dark water.

All of his thoughts were successfully broken when the sliding door suddenly opened. Standing beyond it, the samurai smiled gently at him before gesturing him to enter. “Why didn't you enter? Come, it's cold outside.”

“Thank you, Milord,” Chuuya returned the smile as he followed him inside. He was going to sit down when he felt the weight of a stare directed at him. Silently, he eyed the man back, daring him to comment.

The samurai smirked from his place on the futon, clearly amused at his bride's obvious defiance. “You know...” he started, “you were stunning in your wedding garb earlier, but this simple yukata suits you as well.”

Chuuya, taking the comment as a challenge, slowly approached the man and climbed onto his lap. He knew his movements were screaming sensuality—he had trained day and night to achieve this level of seductiveness—and he enjoyed how the man's red-brown eyes were glued to his whole body. In the back of his mind as he circled his arms around the other man's neck, Chuuya prepared himself for a violent backlash when this man found out he's not a girl. Oh how he's gonna laugh his ass off.

“Wouldn't you like to find out how I look... without anything on?” he asked with half-lidded eyes.

“Since you're offering so nicely...” His husband chuckled, his fingers slowly but surely pulling the sash keeping Chuuya's yukata together. This was it. The moment of truth. Chuuya closed his eyes and held his breath in, shrugging the cloth off his shoulder until it caught on his elbows.

Chuuya waited for a response. Waited...

Shit, did this man faint from sheer shock?

When Chuuya opened his eyes in panic, he was floored because his husband was... too busy trying to stifle his laugh.

What the fuck?

“Pfft, Chuuya! You should have seen your face! Ahahaha! Oh dear, this is too much, I can't breathe, help...” the man wheezed, one arm pressing against his own stomach, no mistake because he laughed too much, while the other arm was still around Chuuya's waist—who, by the way, was frozen in shock.

“Wha— wait, fucker, you mean—” the redhead stumbled around his words, unable to form a coherent sentence. “You—you knew?”

The man wiped one stray tear from his eye. “Of course I knew!”

“Then why did you marry me?!” Chuuya cried out, quickly shifting from shock into rage.

“Why? Because I wanted to harass you, what else~?”

The tell-tale sound of a vein snapping resounded in the otherwise silent room.

'Did he even know he's marrying a male?'

'That is for you to find out, lad.'

Trembling in barely-contained anger, Chuuya replayed his conversation with Kouyou earlier this morning. He was one hundred percent sure that vixen lady was well aware Dazai knew, and conspired with this man to trick him. So he was getting all nervous and worried all day for nothing?

The redhead applied pressure to the neck inside his grasp, strangling the still giggling man under his body.

“Die. You. Jerk.”

“Ahahahk! Chuuya, wait, I haven't, ahk! Had my way, kh, with you!”

“I don't care. Die.”

His plan to kill the man right there right then was ruined because he was easily lifted and pushed into the bed, like he weighed nothing. The brunet hovered over him with a mischievous grin on his face. “While it is my wish to die, I'd prefer screwing you first before going to the next world~”

“Pervert!”

“Is Chuuya blushing? Tsk tsk, you're so innocent, we haven't even started.”

Chuuya wanted to rebut—because hello, he's the player here—but then the brunet started showering kisses along his neck and shoulder, each one getting rougher than before, until he bit down hard on the flesh where neck met shoulder, causing Chuuya to gasp. Meanwhile, his hands were wandering up and down Chuuya's bare torso, delighting in the involuntary shudder he made.

“Hmm, have you ever had sex with a man, Chuuya?” his husband asked against his Adam's apple.

“I—” A groan interrupted his speech. “Of course I have.” He had teased and pleasured many men, even though he's not officially Kouyou's geisha, just because he could. And, because the presents they gave were not half-bad.

The samurai now moved his lips to his face, kissing Chuuya's temple and nose and cheek and jaw and mouth. “With a woman?”

“That too.” Chuuya gasped against the man's soft lips at the feeling of fingers teasing his buds.

“And?” the brunet smirked, his face still hovering really close to Chuuya's. The smaller man felt his heart jumped. He's damned to hell and back because he honestly found that smirk hot and all his ministrations were turning him on fast. “Which one do you like better?”

“As long as it's good sex, I don't care.”

“Hee...,” his husband sat back up, his red-brown eyes raking Chuuya's body from head to toe. When he's satisfied at the flush covering his face and upped torso, the damn samurai moved to strip himself of his night clothes and retrieve a bottle of lube from near the closet. “Then I guess I have to make it really good to make sure you don't go to other people, right, Chuuya?”

The smug expression on his face sent shivers down Chuuya's spine—both from excitement, judging by the way his member twitched, and from annoyance, from the way he wanted nothing more than to smack this asshole in the head.

Let's just say Chuuya had a long, pleasurable night filled with erotic moans that ended with him finally giving his husband an iron fist before both of them drifted to sleep. The asshole deserved that.

By the way, what could he do to take revenge on Kouyou? Hmm...

-fin-