SKK AU based off the idea that the moles on your body are the places where your past life’s lover commonly kissed you.

Chuuya doesn’t have any moles or freckles. His skin is flawless to the point of being eery. He knows it makes sense considering he was born from darkness and

he’s nothing but a vessel to a god. In a way, it should make him feel powerful, or at least that’s what people tell him after they’re done staring.

Except it doesn’t.

It makes him feel alien and like an imposter. It reminds him just how far humanity is out of his reach.

So he hides in plain sight underneath layers of sweaters and jackets. He’s quick to get into baths and he’s learned to be even quicker to turn the lights off when he starts crawling into bed with people.

It’s easy being able to read other bodies. He can peel back the clothes and

follow the paths of marks down bare chests, and over navels. He finds that unique spot on their ribs, or the dot on their shoulder blade. He finds it oddly mesmerizing and for a couple of hours, he loses himself in someone else.

It’s not that people don’t try to reciprocate,

but it always ends the same. They search for a mark, for a lead, but he doesn’t have one, and somehow, despite who he is, there’s a bit of pity in their eyes.

He’s tipsy the first time he falls onto the mattress with his stupid partner. It’s surprising they waited this long.

Straddling Dazai’s lap feels different. The other guy with his bandages across his eye and over his skin.

“What’s the matter, Chibi?” He drawls.

“Shut the fuck up,” Chuuya snaps. He’s always considered himself to be a giving lover and what he lacks in connections with people

he makes up for in enthusiasm and determination. It’s also a wonderful way to distract from his own shortcomings.

But Dazai won’t let Chuuya take the bandages off.

“Why won’t you let me take them off?” Chuuya demands. “I’m sure I’ve seen worse than whatever is underneath.”

Dazai shakes his head. “Sorry, Chibi. No can do.” He says it with a smile but its vehement. “Besides, why won’t you let me undress you?”

Chuuya purses his lips. He’s caught in a position, and hadn’t really been thinking clear. Either Dazai would see the lack of marks and never

let him live it down, or he could back out now, but then he would never let himself live it down.

Chuuya isn’t a quitter, and he does want this, he just doesn’t know how to get everything all at once.

He takes a deep breath. “Look, don’t laugh, okay.” Maybe if he admits it

first, then if Dazai was a dick it wouldn’t sting as much as if he was lying there with his clothes off.
“I don’t have marks,” he confesses.

Dazai tilts his head. “None?” he asks, gently grasping Chuuya’s chin, and moving his head from side to side.

“Yes, none.” Chuuya snaps

swatting his hand away. They’re close enough now that Chuuya can see even Dazai — the biggest pain in the ass, and the one who doesn’t believe in emotional connections — has marks. He has a small one that’s softly faded, sitting just off the centre of the fullest part of his

bottom lip.

Chuuya tells himself there isn’t a harsh jab of jealousy coursing through him.

“How do you have *no* marks?” Dazai reiterates.

“What kind of question is that?”

“An obvious one.”

“Screw off. You’re a genius, I’m sure you can figure out why a vessel doesn’t

have marks.”

Dazai doesn’t reply to that. He actually looks more thoughtful. “Interesting,” is all he says.

This time when he touches Chuuya again, he does it lightly. He gently pulls at the neckline of his shirt, and Chuuya knows he’s still being examined, but he can’t stop

himself from leaning in this time. “Yeah,” he hums.

Dazai leans forward and presses a kiss near Chuuya’s throat. “Well then I’m going to have to find all the places where they would be,” he murmurs.

Chuuya’s vision feels like it blurs, as he feels a shudder race up his spine.

He swallows, as he tugs on the bandages. “Are we done talking now?”

“Definitely.”

——

It takes Chuuya years to piece everything together. It’s not until they’re 25 and after a slow descent into old habits that the realization sinks under his skin and melts into his bones.

He’s lazily tracing patterns over the skin of Dazai’s back. Over the scars, and the dusting of freckles scattered across his shoulders and rib cage like a spattering of stars.

“You knew I didn’t have marks that first time, didn’t you?”

Dazai turns his head and looks at him.

“I wondered but didn’t know for sure,” he says.

Chuuya nods silently as he keeps tracing. It’s taken them a long to get here, and for Dazai to let Chuuya take off his bandages.

Maybe it kind of made sense though. With them on, Chuuya had to learn Dazai. He had to try and make

mistakes, and try some more.

It was work, but maybe that’s why it felt so worth it.

He trails his fingertip over a mark on the edge of Dazai’s shoulder. The spot doesn’t actually do much for Dazai when Chuuya kisses it, but when Dazai mirrors it on him, it drives Chuuya crazy.

“Didn’t it ever weird you out?” Chuuya asks.

Dazai shrugs and he looks cute like this, with the faint pink still on his cheeks and his messy, wild hair splayed over Chuuya’s pillow.

“Not really,” he says, reaching up and poking Chuuya’s chin, making the redhead instinctively

look down giving Dazai the chance to bump his nose upwards.

It’s kind of childish, but it makes Dazai softly laugh as Chuuya rolls his eyes.

“You’re such a dumbass,” Chuuya mutters.

“Maybe,” Dazai replies. “But no, I didn’t really think it was weird...” he trails off and

worries his lip in that way he does when he’s trying to think of how to articulate something.

Dazai was known for being a genius and for reading people, but he’s not good at being open about himself, and it’s moments like that that show Chuuya that at least he’s trying.

“I never thought it was a sign of how human you were — I think I could argue you were more human than me,” he scoffs. “I may have even thought we should have been reversed.” He rolls so he can pick up Chuuya’s hand. He places a light kiss on his wrist, over his palm and then his

fingertips.

Chuuya can’t help but apply a bit pressure against the mark on Dazai’s lip.

“I thought you deserved them a lot more than I did and it wasn’t fair,” Dazai says.

Chuuya parts his lips to protest, but Dazai shakes his head before continuing. “But I think it

just took me awhile to realize it wasn’t about any of that.” He trails his hand down to the bruise he’d sucked onto Chuuya’s neck earlier. “I think it’s more about the marks we leave on each other anyways.”

//e