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Dazai jerks awake, startled by a sudden movement next to him. He opens his eyes. Chuuya is sitting up, breathing hard.
They’re both new at sleeping with another person at night. There are certain things Dazai’s noticed about Chuuya’s sleeping habits that he never noticed before.
Chuuya is a highly active sleeper.
Dazai expected the tossing and turning and the kicking. What he didn’t expect was the way Chuuya latches on to him some nights, or the way his Ability can kick in when he’s dreaming about certain things. If they’re not touching, the blankets start to float. Dazai has woken up often to a sudden rush of cold air.
According to Chuuya, Dazai sleeps like he’s dead.
They both wake up easily, however, a habit formed by years of needing to constantly be on alert.
And they both have nightmares.
Dazai’s have gotten less frequent since he joined the Agency, but there are certain times where they become almost constant. Kunikida has helped Dazai learn to deal with his sleeping problems when they arise, and Dazai has found it mostly helpful.
Chuuya’s nightmares seem to be more frequent.
Back when they were in the Mafia, they would often share a room on missions. They rarely shared a bed. Chuuya slept better than Dazai back then.
Like Dazai back in his Mafia days, Chuuya doesn’t easily reveal his problems.
“What happened?” Dazai asks anyway, because maybe one day Chuuya will answer.
“I don’t remember,” Chuuya says. “But I’m fine.” He doesn’t look at Dazai.
Both of these statements are lies, but Dazai doesn’t call him out on it. Chuuya isn’t a liar. The only way he can keep information from Dazai is by omission, and Dazai figures that there must be a reason why he isn’t saying anything.
Dazai is still learning not to push people past their comfort zone. This is a situation where he knows to hold back. He simply waits until Chuuya pulls himself together enough to talk more, or to go to sleep.
These nightmares are likely the reason Chuuya avoids sleep if he can. He’s been making more of an effort now that he and Dazai have started sharing a bed, but there are stretches of nights where Chuuya won’t come back at all, or he’ll come back late.
After a few minutes Chuuya says, “I’m gonna make coffee,” and gets out of bed before Dazai can stop him.
Dazai checks his phone. It’s 4am. They went to bed at 1am. Three hours of sleep.
Kunikida would have a fit if he knew.
Dazai forces himself out of bed and heads into the bathroom to wash his face. He would love to sleep more, but he’ll have to settle for naps on the Agency’s sofa.
Chuuya’s apartment has become as familiar to Dazai as his own, even though they’re not living together. They stay in Chuuya’s apartment more often, because it’s cleaner and has better food and coffee. Dazai doesn’t mind--his own apartment is pretty impersonal, and he only really uses it as a place to sleep.
The smell of coffee drifts through the apartment and Dazai heads into the kitchen. Chuuya’s already sitting at the counter, a mug cradled in his hands.
Dazai pours himself a cup and sits opposite Chuuya. For a while they don’t talk, which is fine. Dazai is always talking, to distract people, to throw them off, to draw attention away from what he’s thinking. It’s nice to be silent with Chuuya.
Then, some part of him starts to feel uneasy.
This is terrifyingly close to a relationship.
He’s terrifyingly close to accepting it.
*
Dazai thinks a lot.
Most of Dazai’s thoughts tell him that a relationship isn’t a good idea. He’s been trying to ignore those thoughts lately. He had never been happy keeping his distance from everyone. Getting close to people is terrifying, and he’s always ready to push them away if he thinks he’ll lose them. But being let into a person’s life is fascinating, and there’s a type of warm satisfaction that comes with being trusted so intimately by other people. It’s new to Dazai, but not unpleasant, even if he has trouble matching that trust.
Chuuya has always trusted Dazai with his life. But only recently has Dazai realized that Chuuya trusted him with little else.
Chuuya in the past never would have let Dazai become a fixture in his apartment. Dazai had tried, only for the purpose of annoying Chuuya, which led to fights ending in Dazai being thrown out, sometimes literally. At some point when they first started being partners Chuuya might have talked about his fears and insecurities, but as they got older Chuuya started hiding those.
Dazai remembers that the second time Chuuya was asked to use Corruption, he’d said, “I’m scared.” Later, Chuuya would simply accept it, take off his gloves and throw them at Dazai before turning and walking towards his enemy like a man resigned to death.
They dance around each others’ fears now, not quite denying them but not being completely honest, either. Dazai wonders when that will need to change. They’re in a strange in-between state, close and yet not. Dazai doesn’t know what Chuuya’s nightmares are about. Chuuya doesn’t know why Dazai still struggles with keeping people at arms’ length.
Dazai realizes that he doesn’t even know what they are to each other. They’re not partners. They might be friends, but friends feels different. When it seems like they might kiss if one of them doesn’t break the moment first, when Dazai runs his fingers through Chuuya’s hair, or when Chuuya looks at Dazai with such fondness that Dazai can’t believe that Chuuya is looking at him, that doesn’t feel like the friendship Dazai knows.
Deep down, he knows what it is and he’s sure Chuuya does too. But neither of them admit it.
Dazai isn’t sure that he can get close to someone in that way. He suspects Chuuya isn’t sure if he can trust Dazai in that way.
So this strange holding pattern they have continues.
*
It’s 2am and Chuuya shows no signs of sleeping.
He has reports to write, apparently, but he’s half falling asleep at his computer. The coffee he’d drank an hour ago isn’t helping. Dazai watches as Chuuya rests his head on his hand and stares at his screen with dull eyes. He drops forward slightly, and then jerks upright before he can faceplant into his laptop.
“Chuuya,” Dazai says after a moment, “you need to sleep.”
“You’re awake too,” Chuuya points out.
“I’m waiting for you.”
Chuuya looks up at Dazai and blinks. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you’ll wake me up when you come to bed.”
That’s not what Dazai meant to say, but the words, “I care about your health” feel foreign and he can’t make them come out.
“You can always fall back asleep,” Chuuya says.
“You can’t do your job if you’re running on no sleep,” Dazai tries.
“Since when do you care?” Chuuya asks. “You managed fine.”
Dazai sighs. “You’re having nightmares.”
“Don’t make assumptions about me,” Chuuya snaps.
“It’s not an assumption,” Dazai says. “It’s true. But you never say what they’re about.” He knows he’s pushing in a way that he probably shouldn’t, but it’s late and it’s been several weeks without answers.
“Fine,” Chuuya says. “So what? I know you do, too.”
“Yours have gotten worse,” Dazai insists. “They happen more often. You used to sleep better.”
“A lot’s happened recently,” Chuuya says. Dazai can’t deny that. The Guild, the Rats, Chuuya using Corruption more, plenty of near-death experiences for both the Mafia and the Agency.
“Look,” Dazai says, thinking about what Kunikida would say in a situation like this, “you...don’t have to tell me what they’re about,” although Dazai would prefer that he did, “but you should at least let me help you.”
Chuuya narrows his eyes. “How?”
“You fall asleep when I play with your hair,” Dazai says. “That’s a start. But I can’t do that unless we’re both in bed.”
Chuuya glances back at his computer screen for a second. His eyes don’t reflect anything back.
Dazai wonders what it is. He wonders if Chuuya has a problem with the work he does for the Mafia, or if it’s Corruption, or if it’s their odd relationship.
“I need to be better,” Chuuya says after a moment.
Dazai stares at him. “What? Better at what?”
“We almost lost a lot of people in the past few months,” Chuuya says. “We did lose a lot of people, actually. I spent a good chunk of the war in a book being useless, and when I came out I still couldn’t prevent a lot of what happened.”
“No one expected you to,” Dazai says.
“I did.” Chuuya glares at Dazai. “People trust me, Dazai, but the biggest contribution I’ve ever made to the Port Mafia is something I can’t even control.”
There’s a lot that Dazai can pick apart, but he figures that he should wait. Chuuya doesn’t want an analysis right now. Dazai recognizes that Chuuya is trusting him with this information.
“That’s not true,” Dazai says. “You’re overthinking how useful you are to the Mafia, and it’s starting to affect your life. You need to sleep, Chuuya.”
“I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with how I sleep,” Chuuya says.
“Because I’m worried about you,” Dazai says. He doesn’t mean to say it, even though it’s true. It’s admitting something that Chuuya can use against him.
Chuuya’s eyes widen.
“Let me help you,” Dazai says. “At least tonight?”
Chuuya sighs and closes his laptop. HIs lips twitch into an almost-smile. “I never thought I’d hear you say that you want to help someone.”
“I’m a changed man, remember?” Dazai says, half-joking.
“You are,” Chuuya says, entirely serious. He stands up. “I guess I can’t refuse such a good offer.”
Dazai follows him into the bedroom and lays next to him. It’s so easy for Chuuya to curl up next to Dazai. They fit well together.
Dazai starts playing with Chuuya’s hair. He listens to Chuuya’s breathing. It’s uneven, but soon it starts to slow down and the tension in Chuuya’s body disappears. Dazai relaxes with him, his eyes slipping shut. This is always surprising, even after weeks spending the night together.
It’s so easy to fall asleep next to Chuuya.