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Dazai took a deep breath, steadying himself and steeling his nerves for whatever answer laid ahead of this. He was prepared for any outcome, or so he told himself. This was Chuuya he was thinking about, someone he knew better than himself. So why was he so nervous?
The Mafia had crossed the line with Dazai. He had half a mind to not give Chuuya a choice and destroy the organization by his damn self. The soulless asshole in charge over there had sent Chuuya to his death the previous night.
A group of gifteds who rivaled even the Guild had managed to get on Mori’s last nerve. Enough so that he didn’t hesitate to sacrifice Chuuya for a speedy, bloody end to the conflict.
If Dazai hadn’t received a text with a location and the caption “I want a closed casket funeral.” He wouldn’t have even known until much later.
He had happened to be about twenty minutes away with Atsushi and he didn’t hesitate to put a gun to a cabbie’s head and demand he speed them to the address. Atsushi had never seen him threaten an innocent civilian bystander like that, but he didn’t question him. Maybe he was too frightened to, or maybe he understood the severity of the situation if Dazai was willing to go to such lengths.
The twenty minute drive was cut down to eleven minutes so Dazai spared the driver and left Atsushi to foot the fare.
By the time he got behind the warehouse on the docks there were pieces of bodies, blood splatters, and disembodied organs littering everywhere, and Chuuya’s porcelain skin had been completely swallowed up by Corruption.
Dazai could tell there were no enemies left to deal with as the other male thrashed uselessly, destroying his surroundings until they were unrecognizable.
Dazai did what only he could do.
Now they were alone in the infirmary, Yosano had left him after she had finished healing Chuuya’s wounds to the best of her abilities. He knew that he would take some time to wake up, and when he did he’d be in a lot of pain. He was never supposed to go over ten minutes in that state, and he was certainly never supposed to use it without Dazai. The way Mori had cast him aside as a suicide bomb made Dazai feel murderous urges he hadn’t felt in a long time.
These days he was much more focused on killing himself.
He and Chuuya had been communicating for the past year, rather sparingly, to Dazai’s dismay. It wasn’t enough for him. He longed to see Chuuya’s face, hear him speak. He’d only had the balls to call him when he was in a liquid courage stupor, and it took a lot to get him drunk. He’d fall asleep content that he was listening to the redhead’s voice taunting him, but hated not remembering what was said in the morning.
He knows he’s begged him to commit double suicide with him at least a few times, because when Chuuya answers the phone late when Dazai’s drunk and lonely he greets him with “I’ll talk but I’m not offing myself for you.”
Dazai fails to recall much past that.
Chuuya looks weak in the white infirmary bed, almost pitiful with his still labored breathing. The brunet hates seeing him like this but hates more that he was so willing to throw his life away for that shitty group that cares so little about him. Why couldn’t he do the same for Dazai?
Dazai shakes that jealous and selfish thought out of his head almost as soon as it crosses his mind.
In the brief second his eyes were closed Chuuya’s opened.
“What are you doing?” He croaks, voice strained and uneven.
Dazai snaps his gaze to the injured. Coffee colored irises meeting the ocean eyes for the first time in too long.
For a second he really doesn’t know what to say. He had a plan for how this conversation was supposed to go, for the questions he needed answers to. Instead he found he was captivated by tired sapphires, glaring at him suspiciously.
“Am I in hell?” Chuuya asks.
It’s a reasonable question, Dazai relents. He never expected to wake up, and he probably didn’t expect to wake up in a white room with a speechless ex-partner. He’d also done plenty of things to earn his way there, not that Dazai wouldn’t be joining him.
Dazai is sitting entirely too close to the bed, like he was an anticipating lover or dear friend. He doesn’t remember pulling the chair this close, but it’s close enough that Chuuya can reach out to him.
The calloused hand of the Mafia’s best martial artist is unbearably gentle as it brushed against his cheek. Dazai realizes belatedly he’s wiping away a tear.
“Perhaps I’m in heaven, if I somehow made the demon Dazai feel something.” Chuuya’s voice trembles.
“You’re alive.” Dazai says quietly. “I fully intend to keep you that way.”
Chuuya’s hand falls back to his side, the smaller too tired to keep his arm raised any longer.
“I’m supposed to be meeting my maker right now. I had explicit instructions, you know.”
Dazai grits his teeth. Of course his suspicions were accurate and that's why he hadn’t contacted him earlier. Mori handed him a death sentence and had probably forbid him from asking Dazai for help.
“Haven’t seen that face in half a decade.” Chuuya comments wryly. They’d seen each other several times over that period, but Dazai knows he hasn’t allowed this kind of emotion to run freely in him in years.
Dazai doesn’t want to give Chuuya a choice. He doesn’t want to risk the chance of him saying he’s going back to the Mafia. But he knows Chuuya, he’s stubborn and independent. He would never go along with something he felt like he was being forced to do, by Dazai of all people.
Dazai almost feels like pleading, begging Chuuya to turn his back on those who tossed him away like garbage. Tell him that he’s no one’s sacrificial pawn and that he can be free like Dazai.
But Dazai doesn’t really consider himself free.
Not that his job was anything like as demanding as the Mafia, but Dazai was chained down by a lot heavier things than his current career path.
His eyes are still clouded, with anger, distaste, and a familiar- but more intense than usual- feeling of despair. He meets Chuuya’s gaze once again.
The hat rack looks like he’s on the verge of death instead of having been just brought back from it, but there’s an unmistakable concern in his features. The way his brows knit together in more than just pain, his heavy eyelids narrowed more inquisitively, and his pained grimace is more of an uneasy frown.
“Somethings wrong. You’re never this quiet.” He states instead of asking.
Dazai inhales for the first time in several minutes. His brain finally functioning again after being deprived of oxygen. He was starting to have an idea of what he wanted to say.
“I’ve never been this close to losing someone I care for.” He admits softly into the quiet of the blank room.
Chuuya’s eyes widen but his expression doesn’t change much, if anything he looks slightly more worried.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Chuuya asks, completely unsure of himself.
Dazai shakes his head. “Physically, no.”
“In another way then?” Chuuya questions in a whisper. Dazai doesn’t know why he’s whispering, there’s no one around to hear him but himself.
“I thought you were really going to die.” Dazai tells him. “I threatened to kill someone innocent to get to you faster, and I don’t regret it.”
Chuuya is evidently shocked by this.
“I made you abandon your newfound moral compass?” Chuuya doesn’t sound like he totally believes him.
“The only compass I have points to you.” Dazai confesses easily, the words rolling off his tongue faster than before.
Chuuya shuts his mouth at that.
Dazai continues.
“I already don’t want to live, but I can’t stand a world without you in it. There’s nowhere I want to go, there’s nowhere I want to be, and there’s nothing I want to do if you’re not here with me. They think you’re dead so this will be much easier, but you should stay with me. You should strongly consider abandoning them like they abandoned you. You should join the agency and try to acquire that moral compass you accuse me of possessing.” Dazai can hardly breathe. “I want to be a better person, and I try to do the right thing. In a world without you I find that would be pointless. Why don’t we try to be better together? The world could benefit from our partnership this time around, and I can pretend I’m not asking you this selfishly.”
Chuuya doesn’t speak for quite sometime and the silence is deafening.
Dazai knows that if he speaks again he could ruin whatever train of thought the smaller is having, and he can’t chance fucking this up. He already feels as if he’s said too much. After a while of eerie quiet the redhead sighs deeply.
“You know, when you give me choices, there’s never much of a choice.” The line is familiar off Chuuya‘s lips. “I’ll join your stupid justice league. I’ll stay with you. I’ll try to be a not-shit person for once.”
Dazai is overjoyed and through the moon by this answer, and he’s sure it shows on his face because of what Chuuya says shortly after.
“But only because it’s better if they think I followed orders..at least for a little while.”
Dazai is unfazed by his attempt to cover his ass, but is again infuriated by his former boss.
He really does want to kill him for this, and his mind has been conjuring up strategies for exactly that in the background for a couple hours now.
“I can still tell when you’re thinking about mercilessly killing someone. You need to get better at hiding your animosity.” Chuuya offhandedly remarks.
Dazai looks at his bandaged hands. “Honestly I can’t stop myself. Every time I think about him throwing you away I am overcome with the urge to watch the blood drain from his corpse and the life from his eyes.”
Chuuya gulps audibly.
“You-you’re not supposed to be like that anymore. Get a grip. I’m not dead so there’s nothing to avenge.” Chuuya stammers a bit and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
Dazai’s mind is quick to come up with a retort of, ‘if I show up to avenge you, your faked death will be even more convincing’. He doesn’t stoop that low quite yet, assuming Chuuya is not completely used to the idea that he’s going to be playing deceased for a while.
Instead he settles for blunt honesty, which he seemingly only reserved for Chuuya.
“I’m really fucking glad you’re not dead.”
Chuuya scoffs. “Yeah yeah, you can’t live without your favorite person to irritate. I get it.”
Dazai doesn’t know what makes him do it, but he can’t really stop himself.
He takes the hand closest to him between his own, and raises it to his lips. He can smell the blood pungently, but that’s never been enough to throw him off before so why would it start now?
He kisses his fingers reverently, completely expecting Chuuya to pull his hand away at any second or slap him weakly. He presses his lips to his bloodstained knuckles and looks back down at him.
There’s a blush in his cheeks, so uncharacteristic but so enticing. His lips are slightly parted as if he went to protest and forgot what he was going to say. His eyes are glimmering dumbly and Dazai can tell his exhausted brain is working overtime to come up with a response.
Dazai’s voice sounds unfamiliar to his own ears when he says “You don’t have to say anything if you hate it.”
Chuuya blinks rapidly as if he’s trying to determine if he’s actually conscious. He must’ve decided he is because he says gently “I don’t.”
Dazai is overwhelmed with an urge to bang his head against a wall.
“You can hit me if you want.” He offers, secretly hoping Chuuya will take him up on it.
“I won’t.” Chuuya whispers.
“Damn.” Dazai concedes.
“Suicidal, masochist, bastard, ass.” Chuuya tallies off in a low grumble.
“The only pain I’ll accept is the pain you give me. It doesn’t hurt as much as it makes me feel alive.”
Chuuya looks uneasy. “I don’t try to hurt you, you know.”
Dazai sighs. “But you’re really good at it.”
“Says the guy who betrayed me and blew my car up.” Chuuya huffs.
“I wasn’t trying to betray you, slug. I just didn’t know how to convince you to leave and I didn’t want you tracking me down to break my jaw yourself.”
“Why not? Thought you loved it when I put you through hell?”
Dazai kisses the back of his hand tenderly.
“Because Chuuya would never have been able to forgive himself if he killed me.” He mumbled against the bloody hand.
Chuuya didn’t have anything to say to that, so Dazai knew he had been right in his prediction once again.
“What time is it?” Chuuya asks instead.
Dazai glances at his watch.
“Almost four.”
“How long have I been out?”
Dazai checks his phone seeing that the text had been sent at 10:27.
“Five and a half hours.”
Chuuya seems surprised by this. “It normally takes at least ten.”
“You were almost dead, our healer’s ability works better the closer to death you are.” Dazai explains.
“I do feel much better than usual than when I wake up from Corruption.. it’s still bad though.”
“Twelve minutes.” Dazai informs him.
Chuuya’s eyes darken before he finally responds.
“That’s a long time.”
He picks then of all times to pull his hand away, leaving Dazai somewhat agitated.
The desire to bash his skull against some concrete is strong.
“Stop looking like I kicked your puppy and stole your bento.” Chuuya complains before shifting his body, unexpectedly, and with a pained grimace.
He pats the new space next to him with the hand he just freed.
“Lay down. You’ve had a long night.” Chuuya doesn’t ask but rather commands.
Dazai is a little too eager to comply, but is careful not to touch him as to not cause further harm.
Chuuya doesn’t let him get beneath the sheet, which on his part is a wise choice.
Dazai settles next him with their shoulders touching.
He wants to touch him, to pull him close, to wrap his arms around him and determine he will never be hurt again.
But he knows that those things are unwelcome and in one case, impossible.
Or so he thought.
“Put your arm around me, you awkward mackerel.”
Dazai is slow and gentle to raise Chuuya’s head and put his arm under his neck.
Chuuya makes a pained sound with the effort as he nuzzles into Dazai. He did it himself though so Dazai almost doesn’t apologize. Almost.
“Sorry.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Chuuya breath is warm against his bandaged neck.
Dazai does exactly that, falling asleep faster and more peacefully than he ever has.
The next morning is a work day that comes entirely too soon. Dazai is awoken by a soft calling of his name.
“Dazai-san. Dazai-san. Dazai-san.”
He opens one eye and sees Atsushi calling quietly to him nearby.
“Almost everyone is here. I can’t keep them out of here for much longer. You don’t want them to wake him up do you?” Atsushi is being considerate and kind as to not trying to embarrass him by pointing out the current compromising position.
“Thanks. Give me a minute.” Dazai responds.
Atsushi nods at him wordlessly before stepping out to guard the door.
Dazai tried to be as deft as possible to not wake the exhausted redhead, but he stirred anyway and unconsciously nestled closer to him. Dazai’s heart swelled in his chest. Fuck he was cute.
“I’m sorry.” Dazai said softly. “I have to go talk to my coworkers. Then land you a job.”
Chuuya opened his eyes at the sound of his voice and his face turned scarlet as he registered their proximity.
He lifted his head and tried to sit up, which gave Dazai enough time to escape but immediately made the redhead regret his life choices as pain shot through his body.
“Don’t try to move.” Dazai chastises him.
“I do what I want.” Chuuya grumbles but doesn’t attempt it again.
Dazai chuckles at his failed opposition. “Rest. I’ll be back soon enough.”
He gets off the cot and straightens his clothes to the best of his ability and runs his hands through his hair like a dumbass because he doesn’t want it to appear slept on.
He’s very aware of his disheveled appearance as he slips out of the door.
He’s greeted by Atsushi holding off Kunikida, Naomi, Kenji, and Kyouka in the hallway.
Three mouths open at once to question him as Kyouka is just observing.
Dazai sighs tiredly at this.
They all start speaking at once but he’d be lying if he said he heard a single one of them.
Dismissively he walks past them and makes his way to the President’s office. He had a vague idea of how he was going to present the situation and convince the man to test Chuuya’s resolve.
The secretary was just leaving his office as Dazai reaches for the door so he didn’t even have to turn the knob himself and just slipped past her and inside.
“Good morning, President.” Dazai greeted.
The gray haired man took one look at him before responding. “It mustn’t be for you.”
Dazai knew he looked like shit, but honestly he felt better than he had in ages. He’d slept well albeit briefly, with Chuuya by his side.
“You’d be surprised.” Dazai chirps.
The stoic man evidently is. He clears his throat. “I assume you have an order of business you’d like to discuss, concerning our guest.”
Dazai cuts to the chase. “They sent him on a suicide mission. It won’t last forever but for now at least they think he’s dead. I think this presents us with a unique recruitment opportunity. We would have much to benefit from such a strong offensive addition to the Agency. He’s surprisingly willing to work with us, but is willing nonetheless.”
The President nods, following the information easily. “If he’s prepared I don’t see a reason to deny him his redemption. How would you propose testing him?”
Dazai didn’t actually want to be a part of that aspect of this.
“I would prefer not to be involved in his trial. I find myself too invested in the outcome and would rather have little to nothing to do with it.”
The somber man raises an eyebrow at this.
“Dazai, you’ve thoroughly thought through the consequences of this haven’t you?”
Dazai doesn’t let it show on his face, but he doesn’t know what exactly the man is referring to. The Port Mafia’s retaliation when they eventually found out?
“Of course. The consequences.” He repeats calmly instead, as if he was confirming.
“Have you considered the reasons why you’re so invested in this individual?”
Dazai had a million reasons, maybe more if he thought long enough.
“There’s quite a few.” He answers instead, slow and deliberate.
“The way you have involved yourself with him is nothing short of codependency. The reason why you’re so invested in him is because he needs you. Have you thought about how you’ll feel after he doesn’t need you anymore?”
Dazai suddenly realized he was talking about his own ability; All Men Are Created Equal. That he was insinuating that Dazai would feel differently towards Chuuya once he could control Corruption.
“Are you sure you want to rid him of his dependence on you? I’m asking for your sake.”
Dazai clenches his fists and spats out bitterly “You really think I’m that selfish?”
“Your feelings for him are as strong as they are because he needs you, and all you’ve ever desired is to be needed.” Fukuzawa’s words are like an ice cube trailing down his spine.
“If I could stop the horror he experiences when he undergoes Corruption I would do anything. I don’t want him to need me to end his suffering when he could instead not suffer at all. I’m appalled you think so lowly of me that you think I watch my loved one suffer to feel ‘needed’ of all preposterous things. Besides I’d have a guiltless suicide waiting for me if I knew for sure that I didn’t have to stick around to keep him alive.”
The door to the office was thrust open then, with much less force than Chuuya was used to exerting when he made a dramatic entrance, but in his state it’d have to do.
Dazai whipped around and his throat went dry when he saw Chuuya’s face.
He leaned against the doorway heavily, but somehow managed to look proud, and perhaps a bit threatening despite his heavy injuries.
His eyes focused past Dazai on the President and he haughtily stated “I’ll get to you in a moment.” Before giving the brunet his full, undivided attention, and a piece of his mind.
“While I’m touched by your sincerity, and confession of how much I mean to you, you don’t get to decide that if I stop needing you to keep me from destroying myself that I’ve stopped needing you altogether. You don’t get to use the control of Corruption as a crutch for a ‘guiltless suicide’. I would be crushed by a lot more than gravity if you killed yourself.” Chuuya inhaled shakily through his teeth. “Now I know this isn’t enough to fix whatever inside you that broke so long ago that you’ve tried to off yourself at every chance for the past decade, so we will address this further at another time, in a more private setting. Understand?” Chuuya left no room for argument and Dazai found himself not even wanting to.
He simply nodded. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt embarrassed before, but this was Chuuya and he was always making him feel new things.
At last Chuuya focused on the quiet man seated at the desk on the other end of the room.
“This might not be the best thing to say to someone you want to hire you, but I can’t bring myself to give a fuck. You do not know me. You may think you do, but you also do not know Dazai. Calling our relationship codependent? That’s rich considering we haven’t seen each other’s faces in a year. Saying Dazai keeps me around to feel needed? The last dozen times we’ve spoken he cried about how sorry he is for bothering me and it’s painfully obvious how badly he feels unwanted. You’re partially right about one thing though, that Dazai wants to be needed. Where you’re wrong with that is I can guarantee he’s never, ever felt that way.” Chuuya looks back at Dazai briefly “You’re wrong for that by the way.” Then he focuses on the President himself. “I’m not too proud to admit I need him, and I’m not kind enough to not call you a dick for suggesting otherwise. I don’t need him because he saves me from myself; I need him because I care about him. My idiot, bandage-wasting, bastard told me this morning that he wants to try and be a good person with me, that he wants the world to benefit from our partnership this time around, and I, for one, don’t consider him selfish.”
With that Chuuya sunk to the floor, but managed to keep himself upright by leaning heavily against the frame of the door.
Dazai rushed over to him. “Chuuya! You’re stupid! You know you can’t stand yet! It hasn’t even been twelve hours!”
Chuuya’s face is pained, but he looks undoubtedly smug. “Yeah yeah. I do what I want.”
“Congratulations Nakahara-kun. It’s a passing grade from me. Dazai makes the final decision though, so expect to be graded harshly.” The President is standing over the two of them now with a rather out-of-place grin on his usually stoic face.
“That was the test?” The two of them said simultaneously.
Chuuya huffs incredulously and Dazai laughs.
“I should’ve guessed. You’ve never been that mean to me before.” Dazai says after laughing himself silly.
“I don’t understand.” Chuuya complains. “What about that deemed me fit for the Agency?”
“You put yourself through physical and emotional discomfort for the sake of someone else. Most times we just simulate it but ensure that no one gets hurt. You took it upon yourself though so you really can’t blame me for being advantageous.”
“Physical, yes. Emotional, no. The only person here who got put through that shit was Dazai and I have to say, not cool. First impressions are important and I called you a dick.” Chuuya is as blunt as ever and this makes the President chuckle.
“You can’t stand to see him hurt either, so trust I knew what I was doing.”
Chuuya casts his eyes away at this but doesn’t argue.
“I say Chuuya passed.” Dazai concludes. “On account of he was nice enough to lie and say I’m not selfish.”
“I didn’t lie. I made it a matter of personal opinion so it doesn’t matter what you think the truth is.” Chuuya protests.
Dazai picks him up and Chuuya fights everything in himself to not punch him in front of his new boss.
“I’ll be taking Chuuya home now. He needs his rest.”
“I’ll have them call you a taxi.”
Chuuya hides his face in Dazai’s chest as to not have to face any of his new coworkers as Dazai exits the agency. He does his best to ignore the whistles and someone shouting “Get it!”
By the time they get to the street there’s a cab waiting and Dazai is settling him in the backseat.
He’s utterly exhausted and spent as he can’t even lift his head off Dazai’s shoulder. Part of him suspects he doesn’t truly want to.
When he comes to he’s in a warm bed that smells familiar, his eyes open slowly to see Dazai lying next to him. He’s sleeping peacefully and Chuuya is honestly shocked. He’d never seen Dazai sleep for more than two hours at a time before unless he was passed out drunk.
He doesn’t even register his hand moving to brush his hair over his ear before it’s too late.
Dazai’s eyes aren’t even open before his hand clamps down on Chuuya’s wrist as if he perceived a threat. When his eyes come into focus he releases his grip sheepishly.
“Sorry.” Chuuya apologizes.
Once again he realizes, he’s under the covers and Dazai is on top of them. The only difference this time is how much space was between them. Perhaps that’s why he’d immediately tried to close the gap.
“S’fine.” Dazai says groggily. Chuuya has to admit; drowsy is a good look on him.
Dazai blinks at him curiously. “What did you say?”
Chuuya realizes he’d spoken aloud.
Instead of answering he says “Why are you so distant?” Gesturing to the space between them.
There’s not exactly much of it, but after this morning it feels like they’re miles apart.
“If I start touching you I’ll never want to stop.” Dazai must be really tired if he was being this honest with him.
Chuuya feels his face heat up.
“All I’ll want to do is make you look just like that.” Dazai obviously means to inform him of just how red he is in the face.
Chuuya clicks his tongue at him, trying to seem irritated instead of enraptured.
It works as he watches the sleepy joy leave Dazai’s eyes, and he instantly regrets it.
Dazai tries and fails to look indifferent as he rolls over to turn his back to Chuuya.
“I don’t want to force my feelings onto Chuuya.” He mumbles just barely enough for Chuuya to hear him.
“I don’t want Chuuya to feel like he has to tolerate me to keep me alive.” Dazai says even softer and Chuuya wouldn’t of even heard it if he hadn’t been making his way to him to pull his back to his chest.
Dazai tenses up at the contact.
“You don’t have to do this.” Dazai’s voice is weak in its attempt to stay steady. Feeble in its desire to not sound needy.
Chuuya sighs, another wrong move because Dazai tries to pull away.
Chuuya tightens his hold in response.
“You don’t bother me. You’re not forcing anything. I don’t just ‘tolerate’ you. I know I’m not good at showing I care. I know I’m no good at being honest about my feelings. It’s not your fault I’m blunt and unkind. You of all people really don’t deserve that side of me. I’m going to try and be better to you. I reciprocate your feelings even though I act this way. Let me try to be better, let me try to heal you with my heart.”
“I do deserve it. I’ve deserved all of it. What I don’t deserve is your pity now. I would rather not let you pretend even if it’s for my sake. I value your blunt honesty above all else.”
Chuuya’s never heard him sound so defeated.
He hates it.
He wants to convince him this isn’t pity. This isn’t sympathy.
“If you want my honesty turn around and look at me.”
Dazai hesitates, a short inhale making his whole body tense.
Chuuya tries to reassure him with a gentle caress of his chest he’s holding onto.
That seems to give him some hope because he then turns around.
Dazai’s eyes are stupidly pretty, and Chuuya loses himself in the mahogany darkness briefly. He remembers soon enough what he had promised to get this far.
“You’re distracting me. Close your eyes.” Chuuya orders. He doesn’t mean to sound so commanding but Dazai rapidly obeys.
As he observes him Chuuya feels less pressured now, less scrutinized, so it’s easy for him to follow through on his plan to be straightforward and convincing.
He kisses him, there’s no sympathy here, just unadulterated passion.
Dazai is shocked and doesn’t kiss back right away, instead gasping a little at the unexpected contact.
This is what Chuuya was counting on so he doesn’t stall in deepening the kiss.
He doesn’t expect Dazai to whimper at the contact of their tongues, but it’s not unwelcome. The sound is sickly sweet while expressing a deep rooted vulnerability. Chuuya gets a little drunk off it so he resolves to make him make more of those kind of sounds.
He bites his lower lip, pulling it gently between his teeth before diving back in. He’s swallowing Dazai’s gasps, and soon delights in the low moans flooding from his mouth.
When he feels like he might pass out from inability to breathe Chuuya finally pulls away. He finds Dazai looking debauched, with wet, bruised lips and shining eyes. Unshed tears, Chuuya realizes.
After a few sobering breaths his lips find their way to Dazai’s jaw, kissing him cautiously. He’s gauging his responses now, because he really doesn’t want to overwhelm him, but he wants it known that he wasn’t lying about his reciprocation.
Dazai’s breathing is a bit shaky, but he seems alright enough. Chuuya descends further. His tongue slides against a small area of uncovered skin at his neck, and Dazai wheezes. He begins sucking on the sensitive skin roughly, letting his teeth sink in a bit after a while.
Dazai abruptly jerks away.
Chuuya looks up at him curiously and finds him lips parted, and cheeks red. Another good look.
“That’s my honest answer.” Chuuya confessed, through actions more than words.
“How is it that you can actually make me feel?” Dazai sounds out of breath and incredulous.
Chuuya laughs at him, it’s not mocking at all, but instead just honest contentment. Yeah, he could see himself staying here forever. It wasn’t much but he’d obviously helped pull him from a dark, numb place. He planned to keep his head floating too, all too familiar with the cold waters of despair himself.
He’s still giggling as he buries his face in the taller’s chest. Sighing softly after draining the last of his little bit of energy.
“Hold onto me so you never go numb again.” Chuuya demands of him.
Dazai’s arms wrap around him tightly and no more words need spoken at that moment, so they drift back to sleep. Peacefully, easily, and intertwined.
Not daring to let go.