[open] one's home is one's.... hopefully-not-burning-like-the-actual-palace castle

[gekkajuu]

Who: Atsushi (gekkajuu) & anyone/everyone
What: A fairly subdued housewarming party! Also a chance to get some activity in while waiting for the event. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
When: Now. Ish. Now is good.
Where: Olympia, Noble District because tiger boy is moving up in the world~
Warning(s): None..? This is an open mingle, so tag each other with some (probably) lighter stuff between all the WAR and RAWR! Should things get some kind of naughty, please put proper warnings in your subject lines, thank you.

It's almost certainly not the biggest mansion in the Noble District - but who cares? Atsushi is honored (and more than a little surprised) that he got offered this housing in the first place. Carefully inquiring about the rent (because of course this had to be some kind of scam?), he was told that there wasn't any, and he could simply live there for free.

There is always that voice in the back of his head telling him "if it seems too good to be true..." - but he's trying to get better about ignoring it. After all, even if he has to go back to a simpler place to live later, there's nothing lost. So he moves in (together with some friends), tries to find his way - and organizes a housewarming party almost immediately. He could use something to distract him... and so could other people, probably.

Join him? The mansion is still pretty empty - Atsushi's previous possessions aren't enough to fill so much as his bedroom - but the kitchen is full, and there's enough furniture in the living room to make yourself comfortable, a long table decked out with food and drinks that took some effort to procure.

Some options:
- Enjoy the food! Enjoy the drink! Atsushi isn't big on alcohol, but he invited Chuuya to live here, so you can bet your ass there will be something to get drunk off.
- You're welcome to raid the kitchen, too! ... but, seriously, don't open that ribbon-tied box with a note that says "for Reign-san". Yes, those are some tasty-looking mochi - but they have a secret ingredient.
- Do you want to look around upstairs? The master bathroom is huge. Please don't have sex in other people's beds, though... Or do, I'm not your boss.
- Just do your thing, man. It's a party. Forget about the city being on fire for a few hours, and try to have fun. Or plot how to achieve peace over some nice snacks, that's also appreciated.

Floor plan, to help you visualize the place, is this - with the minor change that the office and massage rooms are combined into a single room: the guest bedroom mentioned in Atsushi's network post.

Comments

For thetaintedsorrow

[cassus]

[ By no means is this little shindig a costumed event. Yet with citizens from innumerable worlds all congregating here, it's no longer worth batting an eye at any passerby wearing the kind of armor more suitable for King Arthur's court than modern times.

So when Dazai arrives in overdressed style, wearing the historical ensemble of sleek dragon's hide and obsidian-scaled armor, he should fit right in with the other warlocks, witches and fantastic creatures more animal than human.

Ironically enough the stolen costume from a local play does an excellent job of concealing who he is. The anonymity-inducing helmet does most of the work. It's been beautifully crafted to curve around his head, cloaking everything but two watchful eyes beneath sheets of black metal. Whatever expression his mouth makes stays hidden behind the detachable guard left securely in place. Which means that the party goers who brave greeting him with polite niceties can only wander at the mysterious stranger's mood.

But if there was any doubt, that disappears when he purposefully nudges a guest with hair in perfect sync with it's owner's typical temperament. The lit of humor in Dazai's voice reveals every ounce of his venomous amusement, dripping down from every word that mocks Chuuya, regardless of it's chirping tone. ]

Whoops! I almost didn't see you- all the way down there~.

NSFW

[thetaintedsorrow]

[It’s certainly not a costumed event, and yet all of the people here are dressed so differently from each other that it would be difficult to tell even if it was. From the more revealing outfits of those who dwell in Wyver to the flowing garments of Olympia, no two citizens look exactly the same in clothing or general appearance. Even still, there are some people here who stand out, like the citizens with animal features, and, of course, Chuuya with his fiery red hair and signature hat. It would be difficult to mistake him for anyone else, even in a room full of gingers.

It’s usually a blessing looking this unique and handsome, but in some cases, it can be a terrible curse. For example, there’s no way he could hide from someone truly out to get him unless he really tried...

He’s about to go refill his wine glass when one of the other guests bumps into him, and he whirls around, ready to chew them out for being so goddamn clumsy, but the words immediately die on his lips when he sees a familiar suit of armor standing before him. His blood turns to ice in his veins at the mere sight of that shiny black metal, but it’s that cocky, smarmy voice that really sends chills up Chuuya’s spine.]

Dazai...

[Chuuya hisses the name, brows furrowing as reality slowly begins to sink in. Dazai came all the way here, to Atsushi’s party, dressed like that just to fuck with him...and oh lord is it working. Despite the rage bubbling up within him like corrosive acid, Chuuya can feel his body betraying him in the worst of ways; a powerful throb of arousal gets his cock stirring between his legs, and he curses under his breath as vivid images of their little “act” come flooding, unbidden, into his mind. It’s too much, and Chuuya feels much too hot as he grabs Dazai by the wrist and drags him to an unoccupied corner of the room.

God, he’s so fucking pissed, and-

Oops. He just shattered the wine glass in his hand. Good thing he’s wearing gloves, but what a waste of booze. Stupid bastard...

When he speaks it’s in a harsh whisper, as if anyone is actually listening in.]

What the fuck are you doing here?? Wearing that?

[He’s just...going to try and ignore the heat simmering just beneath his surface from being this close to Dazai in that goddamn provacative outfit.]

I should kick your fucking ass. Don’t you have any goddamn decency??

[cassus]

[ Dazai doesn't usually make it a habit to obey the whims of others. And anyone who decides to forcibly man-handle him as they see fit is even less likely to be tolerated. The very slim exceptions to this rule can be narrowed down into two options.

The first strictly pertains to those with daring curves and an equally awe-inspiring thirst for the danger which only a troubled man can provide. These unlucky few manage to tolerate his company, along with whichever aberrant mood he's working hard at feigning, long enough to sorely regret it.

The only other time Dazai passively indulges anyone getting handsy is when it falls in line with an elaborate ruse that he's set up from the very beginning. And while Dazai might argue the first choice sounds more accurate in Chuuya's case, tonight his partner's much-expected antics fall nicely into category two.

A few minutes into his arrival and already Chuuya is launching himself headfirst into the palm of Dazai's hand, exactly as he'd intended with his excessive getup. Because of course Chuuya would be red-hot with anger, humiliation and so much more. It's the same outfit Dazai had been wearing while doing his utmost to expose Chuuya, in the most literal of ways, in front of a crowd of unblinking onlookers. How could it inspire anything but a bevvy of the strongest emotions when it dredges up every sticky-hot memory so fresh it's impossible to forget even one crystal clear detail?

He might as well be wearing red in a bullfighting arena.

Oh, but Dazai isn't running. There's only smugness wrapped up in a knowing smile that lurks behind his well planned disguise. It's a look which he happily shows off as the helmet comes away with a little tug and one hand skims through his hair. That cockeyed grin is the firmest proof that even Chuuya's attempt to wrangle the situation back under control hasn't done a single thing to faze him.

If anything control is a laughable concept for the evening, and frankly the farthest thing from Chuuya's reach right now. ]

It's a party, isn't it? Everyone's supposed to dress up and look their best!

[ He professes this as though his form-fitting suit of dragon hide and metal rivals formal wear on the scale of black-tie attire. ]

You really should try it sometime, Chuuya.

[ The very first mistake of the night is choosing a blind corner for their little chitchat. Magnanimous as ever, Dazai goes out of his way to point out the grievous error and the many ways in which it puts his prior partner at a severe disadvantage. And what better way to teach this lesson than to encroach upon Chuuya's personal space with a few slow strides forward? Because realizing there's no escape is easy to grasp when you're forcibly boxed between an immobile wall and the unyielding body blocking your every move. ]

Then again, without your harness and collar-

[ His free hand's index and middle finger slip underneath the leather strap at Chuuya's neck, gradually curling until both have it in a loose hold. Not a moment later there's a physical pull behind clutching fingers, tugging Chuuya upwards and over until the closeness forces shoes to scuff together.

All the better to whisper things that look like secrets to the rest of the crowd, but feel like threats and promises that tumble out in whispers against the slope of Chuuya's cheek. ]

Someone might finally realize you're just a stray without a master's boots to lick clean.

[thetaintedsorrow]

[Chuuya has always taken the liberty of touching Dazai however he damn well pleases and dealing with consequences as they come. Hitting, kicking, biting, hair pulling; all of it is par for the course with this relationship (is that even an accurate description of what they have?), and now is no exception. A wrist grab is much nicer than what Chuuya had in mind anyway, and it’s thanks to him not wanting to ruin Atsushi’s party that he doesn’t fucking deck Dazai the moment that decorative helmet comes off to reveal that handsome face and cocky smirk. He can’t cause trouble for Atsushi when the boy has been nothing but kind to him (and offered him a room in this nice ass mansion), and that’s Dazai’s only saving grace right now.

Unfortunately Chuuya is absolutely seething already, which means that Dazai has succeeded in getting under his skin. Like always.]

Fuck you. You’re so fucking hellbent on messing with me that you’d crash a party?? You stupid bastard, don’t you give a shit about anyone but yourself??

[If he does, it’s fucking news to Chuuya. He knows that Dazai loves tormenting him, but he thought that maybe, just maybe, Dazai gave enough of a shit about Atsushi to you know, not do this. Apparently his desire to put Chuuya in his place greatly outweighs anything else, and Chuuya shudders to think what twisted thought process justifies Dazai crowding him up against the wall like some cornered prey animal. Granted, Chuuya could easily escape if he used his full strength, maybe even without making a scene, but something keeps him there, pinned between Dazai and the wall, and he knows that he’s officially lost control of the situation.

Dazai is goddamn lucky he doesn’t break Chuuya’s choker with that tug; that would’ve been the last fucking straw. He’s rather attached to it for various reasons, the most sentimental being that he’s had it since he was a teen, through all of the shit he’s endured, and he’d actually be pretty goddamn upset if it broke now. Perhaps it’s a symbol of Chuuya’s inexplicable bond with Dazai; always there, right up close, and almost appearing to be a shackle, but in the end it’s Chuuya that continues to wear it instead of casting it aside.

Despite his anger at being pulled around like a dog, he doesn’t pull away, though his hands instinctively fly up to grab Dazai’s arm as if he’s actually being choked. God, why does Dazai’s voice always stir up that familiar heat deep within him, even when it’s clearly meant to degrade him? It’s almost like a silken purr, and while Chuuya bristles and hisses, there’s no denying the desire that’s steadily building between them.]

What do you want, Dazai??

[As if Chuuya doesn’t already know the answer. He tries his best to keep his voice down to a harsh whisper for now, though it’s getting incredibly difficult to keep from shouting when Dazai whispers against his cheek and leaves goosebumps blooming on his porcelain skin. He wouldn’t be surprised if Dazai could feel the heat rolling off of him right now. It’s kind of a miracle that Dazai isn’t claiming to own him with that statement, though he can’t speak for whatever the bastard is thinking in that fucked up mind of his.]

I’m not letting you fuck me here in the open, you perverted bastard.

[Not this time, anyway. He actually knows some of these people.]

Can’t you keep it in your fucking pants??