When the day started and he cleaned the cum off of his hands, he decided that now was the time he was going to deal with these emotions once and for all. He isn't sure how he's managed to avoid Dazai for so long but its clear he's running on borrowed time. Through some miracle or another Kunikida's managed to force Dazai to do some work and left him to his own devices. Now he had the time to deal with these emotions once and for all.
Then the clock hit twelve and he's in the organizations bathroom, having a second orgasm with one hand on his cock, the other lightly squeezing his throat and moaning Dazai's name with the thought of a collar around his neck and being called 'puppy'. He was turning into a full blown freak at this rate and by three in the afternoon he was scrambling trying to find someway out of this mess. He didn't want to risk Dazai finding out, if he didn't already know and, if Atsushi was going to be honest, he didn't want to know if Dazai found out to begin with. He wanted his boners gone and his sexual life back to the normal nothingness it was at the beginning of all this madness.
Four came around. Dazai came storming in and, thanks to half-assed work, Kunikida's beatings gave Atsushi the opening he needed to sneak around him and head straight to the exit. He got home without incident at five. This was getting to be too much. He can't spend the rest of his days tip toeing past Dazai but he sure as hell can't reveal this perversion to him, its gross and bad for work and Kunikida would lose his mind.
If he was only normal, then he could get a dominatrix or someone secretive to deal with all these feelings that he can't get a handle on. Risking him transforming into a tiger is too much of a danger, not when Dazai himself is both the object of his strange desires and the only person who could stop him without a fight should something happen.
He isn't sure how he made it through the night without debasing himself again, but he slides into work and finds a place two floors down to hide. A room tucked away, second to the last of a long hallway of old doors. There's an abandoned leather sofa by the wall, old unused computers lined up in the center and the see-through window of the door is covered with a layer of dust no mere duster could penetrate. Perfect, perhaps he can relax here, in the darkness of this room, and not have to deal with any of his own nonsense today.
His fantasies find him again and he keeps an ear out to make sure no one's around. Against the dirt covered floor on the side of the room, hidden from whatever prying eyes could be searching for him, he unzips his pants, sits on the floor and strokes himself. Nothing too major, he can't be found making noise. Though all the good his self control does him ends up not meaning a thing when he loses it, gets on all fours and thrusts into his hand. His mind tells him it isn't him moving, its the force of Dazai's hips surging him forward, perhaps with a hand pushing his head to the floor and demeaning words reducing him into nothing, to parts meant for Dazai to fuck, urging him on.
"You think you're being quiet, you're not. I will give you credit for being smart enough to pick the second to last though."
His head snaps up and he wants disappear. Dazai, standing there with his hands in his pockets. This was doomed to happen from the get go, with his behavior and now he has to look up and see Dazai standing there with that expression that says nothing but says so much.
Atsushi opens his mouth to speak between breaking sobs. "Shut up." Dazai spits. Atsushi's eyes brim with tears and he whimpers, some apologies dancing on his tongue until Dazai's shoe rises above him and slowly eases his head back to the ground. "Five minutes, Atsushi. Five. Come for me in five or you won't at all."
It's wonderful, incredible, enough to steal the breath from his lungs and make his eyes roll back as Dazai's foot nudges and rolls against his head with careful pressure, enough to keep him down and conscious of his master's presence. He uses his now free other hand to stroke himself along with his first, wrapping them around one another as if he's trying to wring his own orgasm out. His head's turned the side and from the corner of his eye he can see Dazai's expression. Lips straight, if a bit pursed together, eyes focused down on him, eyebrows at ease, that unreadable expression again.
"Three."
Dazai knows. He knows and even better, he's helping. The man he wants to fuck him out of his mind knows and isn't rejecting him and calling him out for his inappropriate behavior. Dazai's here and watching his every move and he can feel himself melt a little more at that fact, his fingers slicking with more precum.
"One."
His cock is weeping pre-cum but he can't manage to cum. His skin tingles and he begins to cover himself in a thin veneer of sweat. Every other breath he mumbles Dazai's name, there's a sweet calling from Dazai back, urging him forward with his heart pounding in his ears and his cock almost becoming too sensitive to touch making every stroke that much better and worse.
"We're done here." The pressure is gone and he misses it, he wants it back but when he raises his head Dazai is walking out of the door as gingerly as he strolls almost everywhere else, as if nothing happened.
Atsushi lets himself go, fingers coming away sticky despite him never coming, never having enough. He sits up. What the hell even happened just now? Dazai came, stepped on him for five minutes and left without another word and he didn't even finish. Atsushi exhales, the weight of everything he had to deal with resettling on his shoulders. Him participating doesn't mean he's alright with all of this and now he's left to finish himself on his own.
"Atsushi~" Dazai calls from the doorway. Atsushi stops again. Now he's beaming ear to ear, easing his hands off his cock because Dazai's cheeriness isn't exactly appropriate. Dazai steps back in the room and grins. "Just wanted to let you know, if I find out you came without me giving you express permission, it won't be pleasant."
Atsushi stumbles through a sentence until Dazai either runs out of patience or time. He's amazed Dazai even shows interest in him in the first place.
"So zip your pants back up, get up and go organize the papers near my desk." As far as he can remember, thats the first time Dazai's ever ordered him, without joking or playing around, to do something. It's demanding, verging on loud and speaking with enough of a deep lit that his head clouds a bit. "Make too much eye contact with me or touch yourself and I'll drag you back here, fuck you senseless and make sure you don't finish."
Atsushi nods and fixes himself up. Not too bad, after he dusts the dirt and crumbs off the side of his face and shoves his erection back in his pants as best he can. Dazai tells him to hurry up and he points to his obvious erection.
"Don't worry about it. You're a growing boy. And...Atsushi?" Dazai smacks his ass. His hand is firm, strong and the snapping sound of his hand against him brings every memory of being spanked in his fantasies comes back. He wants to sink to the floor, put his ass in the air and beg for it. "Promise me you'll be good."
"I'll be good."
"Good. Now onto those papers."