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Dazai and Chuuya glanced at each other skeptically as they caught a glimpse of each other, both of them having been sent on the behalf of the Armed Detective Agency and Port Mafia respectively for the meeting with the Special Abilities Department.
There had been an Ability user causing havoc in Tokyo that hadn’t caught either the Agency or Mafia’s attention, being based in Yokohama, but the government had captured the man and things had gotten to the point where they turned to them to see if they happened to have any intel on their captive.
Neither of them did, and being as nosy as Dazai and high-level as Chuuya they’d certainly be aware of it if they were, but the government workers weren’t quite willing to accept that.
“Weren’t you considered the Port Mafia’s most skilled torturer?” one of them asked Dazai.
“I prefer to think of it as an extension of my information gathering skills.” Dazai interrupted with a sniff, almost offended. “I wasn’t brought in unless the recipient was being particularly stubborn about withholding information and no one else could get it out of them. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit of a sadist, but torture for the sake of torture is just boring.”
“Says the guy who continued filling a guy with bullets after he was already dead.” Chuuya muttered, thinking back to their first meeting.
“Hey, that was a mercy killing, and you know it.” Dazai waved him off. “I asked him if he wanted me to end his suffering as opposed to letting him continue to bleed out, and he chose the first option. The first bullet I fired killed him, it’s not like he was feeling more pain with my subsequent shots. What can I say? I didn’t appreciate being shot in the face.”
"You were shot in the face?" the man asked, wide-eyed.
“It was just a graze.” Chuuya rolled his eyes. “He didn’t so much as blink or flinch when it happened.”
Dazai stuck his tongue out at him, not saying what they both already knew.
He might be so well-accustomed to pain that he was able to prevent any visible reactions, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it. He might have a sadistic side, but he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t like being in pain himself.
Privately, Chuuya thought to himself that maybe Dazai being a traitor to the Port Mafia was worth it just for the fact that he got hurt less in the Agency, even with all the shit that had been going on recently.
“Though…yeah, I guess that counts as a mercy killing.” Chuuya hummed, redirecting their thoughts. “I was the one who caused his wounds, and you’d already swiped his communicator and gotten the intel, so offering him a quicker death really was out of the kindness of your shriveled black heart, wasn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘kindness’.” Dazai wrinkled his nose in distaste, not bothering to deny the part about his heart.
He might lie to others for a living, but he’d always made it a point to be honest with himself, and there was no denying his sociopathic tendencies. Not fully, perhaps (for example, there were a few people he’d felt genuine affection and in Chuuya’s case even love for), but he fit way too many of the common behaviors for most people’s comfort.
“Besides, I’m a little out of practice at this point.” Dazai addressed the government worker who had initially asked the question. “It has been four years, after all. I’ll still interrogate people from time to time when the situation calls for it, but the Agency doesn't really approve of torture. Even when we had Kouyou in our care I didn’t do more than remind her of my reputation and crack my fingers.”
Chuuya’s eyes widened as he turned towards his former partner in a soundless snarl. “What the hell, mackerel?!”
“Slug, weren’t you listening? I just said I didn’t so much as touch her.” Dazai sighed. “Ask her about it if you don’t believe me, though I doubt she would appreciate the reminder. She was a good match for you as a mentor, you’re both so proud.”
Chuuya grumbled and continued glaring for a moment, but knew Dazai was telling the truth, so he let it go for now. He didn’t appreciate the insult to him and Ane-san, but if he was being honest he couldn’t exactly deny it, either.
“If your lack of torture isn’t a moral thing, maybe—” the government worker started.
“Sir, are you suggesting the government give permission to a simple private detective to brutally extract information from someone who hasn’t so much as been officially arrested?!” Dazai gasped mockingly, eyes bright and hand going up to his forehead as if he was about to faint in horror.
“Cut the bullshit, dumbass.” Chuuya sighed, yanking Dazai’s arm down and elbowing him in the gut, which earned him a grunt despite Dazai’s pain tolerance. It wasn’t just with his Ability that he was largely considered to be the strongest person in the Port Mafia (Mori very rarely fought with Elise, so no one was quite sure about what he was capable of beyond his cunning), but with his physical strength, too.
“You just suck the fun out of everything, don’t you Chuuya?” Dazai pouted before his eyes took on an amused glint and he smirked. “Wait, that’s not quite right. Sometimes you—”
“His answer is ‘no, I’m not going to torture him for you.’” Chuuya interrupted what was sure to be an innuendo-filled statement, this time aiming to knock the air out of Dazai’s lungs to shut him up.
It was hardly a secret to the Agency and a few select members of the Port Mafia that they were in a relationship, but the Special Ability Department hardly needed to know that. Sakaguchi probably did, but with any luck he felt guilty enough about the people he’d hurt during his infiltration that he wouldn’t say anything about the man who’d supposedly been one of his best friends.
Dazai, wheezing, just gestured in Chuuya’s direction and nodded in what was clearly meant to say ‘what he said’.
“I’m sure Fukuzawa-sama wouldn’t appreciate it if I acted as such while representing the Agency.” He said once he was able. “Besides, I’d hardly do something like that with government lackies around. The moment you feel you need leverage you wouldn’t hesitate to try and use it against me, sanctioned or not.”
Not that much would be able to stick anyway, since Ango had wiped his previous records clean and his crimes since leaving the Port Mafia were hardly of the same caliber, but the point stood.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us, this meeting has already run later than expected and we’re going to go get lunch.” Dazai turned away with a wave and grabbed the cuff of Chuuya’s shirt, dragging him along. It would have been telling to anyone who knew them that Chuuya didn’t protest beyond tugging his arm away and just following the other man normally, but Ango wasn’t present, so no one realized how strange that was.
“You better be paying, asshole.” Chuuya muttered as they went out the door, no one daring (or stupid) enough to try and stop them.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be Kunikida’s treat!” Dazai grinned, reaching into his coat pocket to grab the wallet he’d stolen that morning before he’d left for the meeting.
“That poor man.” Chuuya sighed, though he didn’t bother feeling guilty about eating lunch on the blonde man’s dime.
It wasn’t like Dazai didn’t find ways to subtly pay his co-workers back, he just got a kick out of making people miserable. Everyone but Kunikida himself had realized he was doing it, but no one had clued him in because, really, as a detective he should be more observant. And there may have been a bet riding on when (or if) he'd figure it out.
“Eh, he won’t mind.” Dazai blatantly lied, threading his fingers through Chuuya’s and earning a gentle squeeze in return at the action. “Besides, I found a French restaurant I think you’ll like. From what I hear their wine selection is pretty decent, and their crab dishes have raving reviews!”
“Sounds good.” Chuuya smiled, recalling his earlier thought and deciding that the Agency really had been good for his lover.
He’d never seen Dazai so content (and more and more often even genuinely happy) back when he was in the Port Mafia, after all.