Chapter Text
age eighteen.
Fyodor watches.
He watches Dazai tease Chuuya and watches Chuuya’s irritable responses. He watches the way the two move together, so in sync without even realizing it. He watches the way Chuuya’s attention immediately goes to Dazai whenever the other walks into the room.
He smiles to himself, even though it cuts him like a knife.
I’ve already lost .
age twenty.
Dazai and Chuuya get together.
It’s actually quite cute, even Fyodor has to admit it. They somehow work well together—there are places where their gears grind and smash together, yes, but there are places where everything fits so perfectly together it’s almost as if the two of them were never apart.
Fyodor has to be honest with himself; he feels a bit left behind.
But Chuuya still comes and listens to him play the cello, Chuuya still collects the notes he gives him, Chuuya still smiles and laughs with him, and he supposes that he’ll take what he can get.
It doesn’t stop him from sending Chuuya a note with the words, “I love you,” written in the neatest handwriting he could manage.
Out of all these years, it’s the first time Chuuya actually writes a response back.
“I’m sorry.”
age twenty three.
They move on.
While Fyodor’s confession is now nothing but a thing of the past, there are moments where Chuuya stares at him with eyes clouded with inner turmoil, where he abruptly pulls back from a sudden display of affection that he himself had instigated.
But Fyodor still sends him his notes. He still plays the cello for him, when he can. He listens to him. He loves him, still does, and he’s not sure if he’s even able to stop.
Dazai and Chuuya start having problems.
He supposes that gears that continue to grind harshly against each other will eventually break. The thing is, Dazai and Chuuya work extremely well in the places they fit together. But in the places where they don’t , it’s nothing but fire and anger, nothing but harsh words and not enough forgiveness.
“Please try to forgive my idiot brother,” Fyodor tells Chuuya, and he means it. The two of them are currently at his place, sitting next to each other on the couch.
Chuuya says nothing. Instead, he rests his head on Fyodor’s shoulder.
“Play the cello for me,” he orders. Fyodor complies.
Dazai and Chuuya break up.
age twenty five
It happens slowly.
Though Chuuya supposes everything with Fyodor has always been a bit of a slow process.
Dazai catches onto it first. He smiles and teases Chuuya about it, of course, though there isn’t much malice behind it anymore.
“I loved you,” Dazai murmurs one day. “But he’s been in love with you for a long time.”
Chuuya stretches up on his tiptoes to give the brunet a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“Gross,” Dazai responds, scrunching his nose and wiping his cheek. Chuuya punches the bastard in the face.
~o.O.o~
Chuuya kisses Fyodor after dinner one night.
He ends up laughing out loud, because the man looks so shocked, eyes wide and cheeks flushing pink. “Are you alive?” He asks him, still chuckling.
“Yes,” Fyodor answers, still in a bit of a daze. “Are you?”
Chuuya laughs again. “As long as you are,” he replies, and leans in to give the other man another kiss.
age twenty eight
Chuuya wakes up to meet deep brown eyes. He screams.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED?” He shouts, scrambling away from the figure beside him.
“You wouldn’t have said that a few years ago,” Dazai quips back airily, crossing his arms behind his head and making himself at home. Chuuya growls. Before he can kick the bastard’s ass to next week, the brunet raises his hand, showing a piece of paper the color of faded jeans. Dazai smiles. “I’ve got a message.”
Chuuya raises an eyebrow, grabbing the note from Dazai’s hand. He opens it, eyes softening when he reads the message.
Meet me at the park. Feel free to take your time, I know you like to take long showers in the morning.
Chuuya rushes anyways. When he walks into the bathroom though, he sees another blue note.
You have made me
He frowns, grabbing the note anyways and slipping it in his jacket pocket, before stripping and taking a quick shower. As he walks past the kitchen, another blue note catches his attention.
smile more than anyone else.
~o.O.o~
He scrambles to the park, immediately catching sight of Fyodor sitting on a bench, ushanka placed on his head. When the man sees Chuuya, his violet eyes light up.
“I told you not to rush.”
Chuuya rolls his eyes. “You knew I would, anyway. What’s this all about?”
Fyodor just hands him another note. Chuuya frowns, but opens it. His eyes widen.
Will you marry me?
When he looks up, Fyodor’s already holding an open jewellry box displaying two pale silver rings. A hint of a smile is on the man’s face, though nervousness is present in his posture.
“Yes,” he says, feeling a smile spread across his lips. “Yes, you fucking idiot, of course I will.”
Before Fyodor can even answer, Chuuya throws his arms around the man, pulling him into a kiss.
They leave the park holding hands, matching rings glowing in the sunlight.