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Dazai had always thought a lot about death.
Ever since he was thrown into the world of mafiosos, his insistent thinking of death always kept his mind sharp and active. He was still bored, but less so when he was thinking about his ultimate demise. At least that was a tangible goal that he could keep replaying in his mind in order to feel less numb.
In all the ways Dazai thought that he would die, however, this was not one of them.
Logically, Dazai knew that this was the only way to save Yokohama; to keep Odasaku’s wish alive. Maybe a small part of him also wanted to keep Yokohama standing too. After all, life was slowly starting to become more and more beautiful. Therefore, he knew what he had to do.
That didn’t mean that it didn’t still hurt.
Even up to the point where Dazai felt the blade slash through his layered clothes, and pierce through his skin, there was a small chance that perhaps he was off in his calculations.
Because if Dazai was off in his calculations that meant that he wouldn’t have to rely on Chuuya.
It felt so backwards: Dazai putting all his trust in Chuuya. Dazai hoping and praying that Chuuya would come to his side. Dazai who needed Chuuya before he took his last breath for good. Dazai who might actually die and leave Chuuya alone.
Is this how Chuuya felt? Every time he used Corruption? Every time he blindly trusted Dazai?
Dazai supposed he owed Chuuya an apology. An honest one at that.
It was never supposed to end this way.
And yet, as Dazai took his last labored breaths, all he could think about was Chuuya. Dazai could barely register what was going on around him, whatever Fyodor and Shibusawa were saying above him sounded like it was coming through muddled water, and the blood pooling around him felt warm and inviting.
As his eyes drooped shut the last thing Dazai saw were Chuuya’s bright blue eyes, shining brightly up at his.
Chuuya beamed up at Dazai excitedly, gesturing excitedly to what Dazai would later find out was Chuuya’s first purchase with a Port Mafia paycheck. Dazai stared at that thing next to Chuuya. Clearly, it was a motorcycle. But it was lavish and sleek, bright pink and obnoxious, terrifying and yet beautiful. It fit Chuuya so well.
Just a few hours ago Chuuya had texted Dazai to come meet him at a somewhat empty street because he needed Dazai immediately. Usually Dazai wouldn’t answer to Chuuya’s every beck and call, he was no dog after all. Lucky for Chuuya, Dazai was bored and had not yet finished the report Chuuya asked him to do weeks ago.
So, Dazai waited for Chuuya on the side of a road he was vaguely familiar with since it was outside Port Mafia territory.
And then Dazai heard a whirling motor. Which was all the warning he received before a flash of pink and black nearly sideswiped him, killing him for good.
Thankfully, Dazai was used to having to adjust quickly to Chuuya’s attacks. Albeit this attack was way more intense and sudden, Dazai still managed to get away unharmed.
The vehicle came to a stop and the motor quickly died down after that. A small figure, which Dazai could recognize from anywhere, hopped off the bike and made his way over to Dazai.
Dazai glanced between the motorbike and Chuuya. He didn’t quite understand what had possessed his partner to buy such an extravagant thing.
That was until he saw Chuuya’s smile. Dazai had only known Chuuya for a relatively short time, and since their first meeting he had never seen Chuuya shine brighter than the sun itself.
“So, what do ya’ thing?” Chuuya asked, eyebrow quirked.
Dazai couldn’t drag his eyes away from Chuuya. Small strands of his red hair were caught between his lips, the orange of his hair making the pink of his lips stand out even more. Chuuya’s cheeks were flushed a light pink from what Dazai assumed was the result of the wind whipping against Chuuya’s skin. Even his body language was more relaxed, more freed, as if riding with the wind calmed Chuuya.
But what caught Dazai’s attention the most were Chuuya’s eyes. Dazai had always registered that Chuuya had blue eyes. It was, after all, just another meaningless fact about his partner that Dazai stored away for potential pieces of information that could help him later.
And yet, knowing that, Dazai felt like he was truly seeing Chuuya for the first time. Chuuya’s pupils were blown wide, dilated with how excited he was from his first trip. The blue of his irises were thin but crystal clear, like the color of a limitless sky that Dazai wanted to fall headfirst into, and hope Chuuya would help him navigate through all the endless freeing possibilities.
Dazai had wanted to say, ‘beautiful’ but then he remembered that Chuuya had asked about the bike.
Instead Dazai said, “Well, it’s dangerous and tacky. And Chibi doesn’t seem to know how to drive it. I think you’ll die the first mission you use it, either by the enemy spotting you from five miles away or because you can’t drive it. So, I think it’s pretty good.”
Chuuya’s eyebrows knit, any sense of pride he had now deflated. “Hah?! What did you just say, bastard?!”
“Is all this air and wind clogging up your brain? I said you’re going to die on that thing.”
“I’ll show you death,” Chuuya grumbled before lunging at Dazai.
The last thing Dazai heard was ringing in his ears. Oddly enough it reminded him scarily of Chuuya’s nagging and screams.
Chuuya always had a higher voice, which Dazai would let himself admit in the safety of his own home he quite enjoyed hearing. The ringing reminded him of when he would poke and proud too far to the point where Chuuya’s temper would snap and he would yell insults at Dazai. If Dazai was being honest, which he supposed he could be since he was dying after all, he wished the ringing was slightly more melodious. He would have much rather been reminded of Chuuya’s singing.
One of Dazai’s secret favorite pastimes was watching Chuuya practice sparring in the Port Mafia’s gym reserved for sub-executives and higher. Dazai never used the gym personally. In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s only ever seen Chuuya enter the facilities.
At first Dazai spied on Chuuya because it was another way to procrastinate work while also learning his partner’s moves. A win-win. But after the third or fourth time, Dazai slowly found himself entranced with watching Chuuya.
What captivated Dazai the most wasn’t that Chuuya was powerful, or that he was graceful, or how the two forms of movement complemented each other in only a way Chuuya could achieve. No, what really caught Dazai’s attention was that when Chuuya was practicing alone, he would always sing while working out.
Chuuya would almost always sing rock songs. He seemed to alternate between playlists, depending on what type of workout he was performing. But since Dazai knew next to nothing about rock music every song sounded the same to him.
Slowly Dazai started to feel enthralled with the way Chuuya would jump from low notes to high notes. He would feel his skin flush and his blood drain whenever Chuuya sang lyrics that were somewhat suggestive, since Dazai believed only he was intended to hear it. Dazai began to look forward to when Chuuya would vibrato certain notes that the original singer did not intend.
Dazai gained an appreciation of rock music through Chuuya. Even though Dazai would often admit that Chuuya was far more talented than anything he heard from the speakers.
The last think Dazai tasted was blood. The tangy metallic taste that stuck on his lips like glue and began to coat his throat.
It reminded him of Chuuya. Dazai had always found Chuuya the most attractive when Chuuya was covered in some varying degree of blood. Especially when it came from Corruption. Dazai couldn’t help but find that much power contained in such a tiny body unbelievably arousing.
It took Dazai a couple of missions to truly appreciate the beauty of Corruption. It was during an undercover in Barcelona that Dazai acknowledged his adoration for Corruption and did something about it.
One of the Port Mafia’s allies in Spain were supposedly taking advantage of their weapons shipments, trying to tamper with the equipment, and then sell them to other underground organizations with the intentions of tainting the Port Mafia’s name.
It was up to Dazai and Chuuya to make whoever was in charge of this tactic pay. Originally, it was supposed to be Dazai that completely and utterly wrecked the poor son of a bitch who thought they could double-cross the Port Mafia, both mentally and physically. Corruption was never part of the plan. This was mainly to see how well Dazai and Chuuya could work abroad.
However, about halfway through their mission, intel was leaked, and their covers were blown. Overwhelmed by the amount of firearms used against the two teenagers, they had no choice but to activate Corruption.
Dazai couldn’t help but be mesmerized as Chuuya’s corrupted form annihilated the base within a matter of seconds. Chuuya was gorgeous. Laugh powerful and cocky, ringing high like a church bell signaling the end of someone’s life. His skin was tainted with red, a mixture of both the sigils that came with Arahabki and Chuuya’s blood. Dazai nearly forgot that it was time to uphold his end of the bargain and reach out for Chuuya in order to bring him back.
But he did.
He always did.
In all the years of fighting alongside each other, he would always wrap his fingers around any skin of Chuuya’s that he could touch in order to bring Chuuya back down to him.
Overcome with exhaustion, Chuuya leaned towards the side until his left cheek hit the solidness of Dazai’s chest. Dazai could feel the blood drip from his partner’s chin down onto Dazai’s shoes, but he couldn’t care less right now.
Chuuya’s head was tiled upwards, lips parted trying to breathe in as much oxygen as he could. His eyes were glazed over due to the rush of power he just obtained. His skin was still stained with red blood and would remain that way until Dazai cleaned it off. Chuuya was barely awake, clearly slipping in and out of consciousness.
Staring down at his partner, Dazai felt a rush of a post-victory high. Chuuya looked unbelievably small in Dazai’s arms. And yet, he had just decimated at least 200 men within the blink of an eye. He was the living definition of an oxymoron. To prove Dazai’s point even further, Chuuya should not have looked that gorgeous covered in blood.
But he did.
He always did.
Dazai surged forward and captured Chuuya’s lips between his own. He could tell Chuuya’s mind was still fuzzy because it took Chuuya a delayed amount of time to kiss Dazai back.
But he did.
He always did.
Chuuya tasted amazing. Like the lingering taste of wine, he tried for the first time in the business meeting held earlier this morning. Like blood, like saliva. Like life, like death. Like only how Chuuya could taste because it was him. Dazai felt intoxicated.
The kiss didn’t last very long. Two minutes at most before Chuuya’s lips no longer enthusiastically kissed Dazai back and instead began to grow soft against Dazai’s.
Dazai pulled away and once again stared down at his partner. Chuuya reached out, wrapping his arms around Dazai’s neck so he was grounded in one spot.
“Do that,” Chuuya mumbled, breath very labored as he fought against unconsciousness, “again.”
Dazai could only watch as Chuuya’s eyes fluttered shut and his jaw went slack. He chuckled, pressing his nose against Chuuya’s lips and then nuzzling.
“Sure thing, partner,” Dazai whispered to his whole world.
Every single time they kissed, or made out, or inevitably fucked when they got older, they would both blame it on the adrenaline and the post-victory high. But now, Dazai regretted leaving all those mixed feelings up in the air.
He wanted to be able to hold Chuuya, to breathe him in one more time, to press his lips against Chuuya’s with the intention of pure infatuation and not lust.
What scared Dazai the most about dying was that he never thought he would want to live. That he would regret the cold feeling of death spreading throughout his veins like a calming virus about to take him home.
Dazai felt his lips part open and begin to form the first syllable of the letter C, but before he could make a sound he forgot what he was doing. His once sharp mind felt dull. What started with a C? Was it Chuuya? Who was Chuuya? What was Chuuya?
All Dazai could hear, and think, and feel, and see anymore was cotton. He couldn’t remember what he wanted to call out for, who he was desperately trying to remember, and why he was trying to hold on. Was it Chuuya? Or was this feeling of comfort lulling him to sleep Chuuya?
If the latter was the case, then all Dazai knew he wanted to do was embrace the soft and inviting hands of death. Dazai gave in. His last breath soft and peaceful, finally letting every ounce of tension slip away as he drifted off into nothingness. Maybe he would finally visit this ‘Chuuya’ he couldn’t stop thinking about...
As if it were that simple.
The first sensation Dazai felt was a sharp smack to the side of his face. How he hated pain. And then everything clicked.
All his memories came flooding back. Everything from seconds before his death to the repressed memories he kept locked away and hadn’t thought about in years. It was all here. For once, Dazai was actually happy to feel a dull ache on his jaw.
Then Dazai opened his eyes and saw the most beautiful sight in the world. Chuuya.
Chuuya, who didn’t need to know a word of Dazai’s schemes to know that Dazai ultimately needed to be rescued.
Chuuya, who willingly threw himself into the jaws of Corruption, on the off chance that he would live from expending his power far greater than any time before.
Chuuya, whose face and arms were covered in a light smattering of blood from his body giving out due to all the power he was using.
Chuuya, who Dazai could never say for certain reciprocated his feelings until right now. The fact that Chuuya would willingly die if Corruption wasn’t nullified, just on the off chance he and Dazai could live together once again proved it.
This time Dazai didn’t censor himself when he said, “How beautiful.”
After a few quips on both of their parts, Chuuya promptly slipped into unconsciousness. It wasn’t until a couple hours later that Dazai actually got to speak to Chuuya for real.
Dazai felt Chuuya stir as he was combing his hand through Chuuya’s hair. Dazai had been silent for the time being, so hearing even the faintest rustle had Dazai on high alert. Usually he would up and leave Chuuya, since they were on opposite sides after all, but this time felt different. Dazai didn’t want to abandon Chuuya again.
Chuuya grumbled and then tried to sit himself up. Dazai quickly took the cue and repositioned his tiny partner against a nearby half knocked down wall so Chuuya had something to support himself. Dazai sat down next to him. They were sitting side by side, shoulders leaning against one another.
“Hi,” Dazai whispered.
“Hey,” Chuuya replied.
“Thank you,” Dazai said, voice incredibly small.
Chuuya turned his face so he was staring at Dazai. His eyes were blown wide like he was looking at something with two heads, and not his partner who shared a simple gratitude.
“What the fuck?”
Dazai chuckled. “Thank you for saving me, my petite prince. I never once doubted that you would wake me up.”
“Uh huh,” Chuuya said, skeptical. “Are you sure you’re all the way back? The shitty Dazai I know would never thank me for anything, besides if I kneeled over and died.”
“Chuuya,” Dazai gasped, “I am a changed man! I never knew what kinds of turmoil you must have gone through whenever you used Corruption! I can’t believe how much you trust me.”
“I trust your plans,” Chuuya quickly corrected.
“A bit defensive aren’t we~”
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill you for real, and this time I’ll make sure it’s permanent!”
Dazai laughed at the sudden joke and then the two fell into a comfortable silence.
After a few minutes, Chuuya scooted closer to Dazai and rested his head on Dazai’s shoulder. If Dazai were a stupider man he would’ve called out Chuuya for his passive aggressive cuddling, but he didn’t want to lose this.
Dazai smiled softly. “Neh, Chuuya?”
“What?”
“Do you remember when we used Corruption in Spain?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Do you remember what you said right before you passed out?”
Dazai couldn’t really see Chuuya over the top of his head, but he could faintly make out that the top of Chuuya’s cheeks turned red and felt a new heat against his collarbone.
“I don’t,” a nervous cough, “I don’t remember.”
“Hm,” Dazai pondered. “Could I refresh your memory then?”
Chuuya stiffened slightly before he nodded. Dazai tilted his face downwards until he was eye level with Chuuya and then gently pressed his lips to Chuuya’s. Chuuya responded almost immediately.
The kiss slowly turned from hesitant, experimenting after four years of being apart, to completely captivated with one another. Dazai learned that Chuuya was still needy, as Chuuya sucked on Dazai’s bottom lip and grabbed at the collar of Dazai’s suit.
Dazai wasn’t much more contained compared to Chuuya. He couldn’t hold himself back from claiming Chuuya’s mouth as his. Licking every inch of Chuuya’s mouth he had access to. Dazai faintly registered that Chuuya tasted a bit like dried blood, but that made him all the more delicious. Just like old times, but with a new hope that wasn’t there before.
Dazai was sure they could have (and should have) continued for hours but the first break of dawn hitting Dazai’s closed eyelids brought him back down to earth.
With a lot of restraint, Dazai pulled his mouth away from Chuuya’s. Chuuya whined in retaliation.
“I’m sorry,” Dazai said as he detangled himself from his partner’s grip. Since when did they get so close that Dazai’s white suit was stained with Chuuya’s blood? Was he sure glad to have a spare set of clothes lying around somewhere. “But if my calculations are correct, Atsushi-kun, Akutagawa-kun, and Kyouka-kun should have killed Shibusawa by now.”
“You’re leaving me again?” Chuuya asked, sounding absolutely heartbroken.
“Just for now,” Dazai reassured. He’s also almost positive Chuuya’s true emotions would not being showing this prominently if it weren’t for Corruption. Hopefully he would get cocky by the time Akutagawa found him.
“I don’t want Akutagawa-kun to stumble upon the traitor’s tongue down his beloved mentor’s throat.”
Chuuya’s cheeks drained of all color. “O-oi,” he tried to scream.
Dazai laughed, light and airily. “I’ll be back I promise. When have I ever truly left you?”
Chuuya muttered.
Dazai turned on his heel and began to walk in the direction where his mentees should be. He couldn’t help the dumb smile plastered on his face. Maybe he should get into danger more often.
Dazai really enjoyed finally getting his happily ever after.