Chapter Text
Chuuya was warm when he woke up. He let his eyes remain shut for a few long moments, waking up slowly. He opened his eyes to be greeted by the sight of Dazai wrapped in his arms. Dazai’s head rested against Chuuya’s chest, his face slightly flushed with sickness. His arms were around Chuuya’s torso.
Gross, Chuuya thought. Absolutely gross.
Though he made no effort to move.
Chuuya sat there, quietly observing the other. It was a small moment of peace in a life of fighting, although it was rare for Dazai to bring him anything akin to peace.
Chuuya didn’t remember how long he sat there, watching Dazai’s chest rise and fall and the way his brown hair draped over his flushed face.
Dazai’s face had always annoyed Chuuya. He constantly wore that stupid smile like he was judging him, and he could never properly read his expressions. He wore his face and physicality like a mask. Perhaps what irritated Chuuya the most about Dazai’s face, however, was how pretty he was. It wasn’t fair for someone so insufferable to simultaneously be so beautiful. It only made Dazai’s taunts and mockery worse, rubbing salt in the wound.
He let his chin lay atop Dazai’s head, in his mind blaming it on still being tired. He caught the scent of Dazai’s hair. He hadn’t realized the scent was familiar, how well acquainted he was with it. It was a comforting scent, strangely enough.
Chuuya was suddenly overcome by an urge that was a terrible idea. But what Dazai didn’t know, Dazai couldn’t tease him for. With his face buried in Dazai’s hair, he planted a kiss on the crown of his head.
Chuuya allowed himself to keep his head nestled in Dazai’s hair for a moment before retracting. Then, that stupid smile made its way onto Dazai’s face.
“I’m awake.”
Chuuya would’ve jumped out of his skin if Dazai’s arms weren’t still around him.
“What the fuck? How long were you gonna sit there pretending to be asleep?” Chuuya sputtered.
“How long were you gonna sit there staring at me?” Dazai quipped back. Chuuya stared at him some more.
“Get off me,” Chuuya said, roughly pushing Dazai away from him. Dazai whined a complaint as he disentangled his limbs from Chuuya’s. Chuuya immediately regretted the decision as the warmth vanished.
“Let’s not brush past the fact that you kissed me,” Dazai reminded, because Dazai had never once let someone’s dignity survive an interaction with him. Chuuya hit him in response.
“Shut up,” he said. He could feel his face heating up. “I didn’t.”
“Yes you did.”
“I didn’t,”
“You did.”
“That wasn’t a kiss. Clearly you wouldn’t know,” Chuuya said, having absolutely no clue what he was talking about. Dazai always seemed to make him spout nonsensical bullshit.
“Really? Then what-“
Chuuya, for the second time that morning, was overcome with an urge that was a terrible, terrible idea.
He grabbed Dazai by the shirt (his shirt) and kissed him.
They pulled apart just a moment later. Chuuya felt like he wasn’t breathing.
“That was me kissing you,” Chuuya said. It would’ve maybe been smooth if his face wasn’t entirely red.
Dazai simply stared at him for a moment, his lips still parted. And then there it was again— that stupid smile.
“If you wanted to kiss me so bad, you should’ve just said so.” Dazai said slyly.
“What?”
“Maybe I would’ve let you.”
Chuuya stared at him. “What? You-“
Dazai brought him close and kissed him again, longer this time. His hands were on Chuuya’s face, and Chuuya’s made his way back to the collar of Dazai’s shirt.
Dazai pulled away after the sweetest seconds of Chuuya’s life, leaving his face just inches away. Just barely far enough for Chuuya to see his stupid smile.
“Finally,” Dazai said.
“Finally?” Chuuya exclaimed, distressed.
“I thought you’d never do that.” Dazai grinned. It felt mocking, but all of Dazai’s smiles did.
“Did you know?” Chuuya asked, face burning impossibly hot.
“Know what?”
“That I-“ the words died on Chuuya’s tongue. That he what? Wanting to kill him? Wanted to make out with him? Wanted to die in this very moment?
“Liked me?” Dazai asked, like it was all so simple.
Chuuya felt his soul either ascend from his body or descend six feet under to hell.
“Maybe,” Dazai said with a slight shrug. What did that mean?
Chuuya had a million thoughts and not one of them was fully formed. He couldn’t have spoken even if they were; his tongue felt as though it had just played a rather heated round of twister.
“What is your problem?” Was the question he settled on.
Dazai continued grinning. Chuuya wanted to hit him again. So, he did. It brought some sense of normalcy back to the conversation.
“I’m getting some mixed signals here.”
“Shut up.”
Dazai’s smile was pure evil. Chuuya wanted to get that smile off of his face. “Make me.”
So Chuuya did.
He pressed his lips to Dazai’s, pinning the other down on the bed. His hands were on the mattress to either side of Dazai’s neck, Chuuya’s legs straddling his hips.
Dazai slipped his tongue between Chuuya’s lips, gnawing on the lower one. He let out a soft grunt as Chuuya kissed him harder.
“Shh,” Chuuya hummed, breaking his lips away just to press his pointer finger to Dazai’s. “I thought I told you to shut up,” he said. Dazai obeyed, looking up at him with those stupid brown eyes. Chuuya kissed him again.
Dazai felt notably better than he had the previous night. He hadn’t drank enough to be hungover, his arms stung less, and he wasn’t as sick after sleeping.
Oh, and there was a pretty boy making out with him.
Dazai bit back another moan as Chuuya stuck his tongue in his mouth. Dazai wasn’t one for actually listening to anything Chuuya told him to do, but just this once, he acquiesced, staying silent. Not because Chuuya told him to shut up. Chuuya told him to shut up all the time, that never stopped Dazai. If anyone asked him, he’d tell them he stayed silent on his own volition. Not because Chuuya told him to.
Obviously.
Dazai pressed a hand to Chuuya’s chest above him, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He dragged him down, bringing Chuuya’s head beside his face to nip at his neck. He clasped the back of Chuuya’s neck with both hands, pulling him impossibly near, peppering bites along his skin.
“You’re gonna leave a mark,” Chuuya scolded.
“Good.”
Dazai traced a trail of kisses down Chuuya’s neck until he reached the collar of his shirt. He looked up at him, smiling. Then he was ripping Chuuya’s shirt off and kissing him again.
When they pulled apart, both of them were flushed and out of breath. Chuuya stared at him for a moment, mouth lightly ajar and face red. Cute was not typically a word used to describe the ginger, but in that moment, Dazai couldn’t find a more fitting word.
“I’m gonna catch whatever sickness you have now,” Chuuya said, running a hand over his face.
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you kissed me.”
“I didn’t think anything before I kissed you.”
“Maybe you should’ve.”
Chuuya shoved him, leaving Dazai to fall down on the mattress. Dazai laughed, soft and real. Chuuya resisted the urge to kiss him again.
“You’re terrible,” Chuuya said, failing to suppress a smile. His words lacked any real heat.
Dazai grinned Daizaily.
This time, Chuuya wasn’t quite able to resist the urge to kiss him again.
And when Chuuya inevitably got sick as well? He decided it was worth it.