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Chuuya was tired. His feet felt as heavy as concrete, his limbs hurt, his legs screamed in protest with every step he took, his shoulders felt like they were bending under a too big weight; he was even too tired to use his ability and reduce the gravity on himself. He just wanted to reach his room and collapse on the bed.
Some missions were easy, their enemies overthrown fast and without many troubles, leaving him and Dazai standing and ready to fight again if necessary; some other missions, though, gave them a too good fight, exciting while it lasted, while adrenaline ran fast in their veins, but then left them like that, stumbling through the Mafia headquarters, weary and almost devoid of energy.
Chuuya almost always preferred the latter - the sensation of a good hard fight making his blood boil in his veins was a feeling that never grew old for him.
He looked at Dazai, walking silently next to him. He let his eyes roaming over him, a vice Chuuya had let himself indulge even too much lately - but it was okay now, when the corridor was dark and Dazai's eyes were fixed ahead of him, lost in thoughts that Chuuya couldn't guess.
"You're still bleeding", he said, when he noticed the cut on Dazai's cheek, and the wound on his side that kept colouring red his shirt.
Dazai turned to look at him, and it seemed like it took him a few moments to really realize what Chuuya had said. He looked as tired as Chuuya felt.
"Oh", he said, looking down at himself. One hand went up to the wound on his cheek, touching the blood with his thumb. After looking at it for a second, he brought it to his lips, tasting his own blood. "It doesn't hurt".
"That's not the point", Chuuya sighed. "You should get those treated".
Dazai simply shrugged, and Chuuya sighed again, annoyed at the carelessness that Dazai showed towards everything and especially himself.
He knew he wouldn't treat those wounds - if there was something that Chuuya could say he knew about Dazai was that he couldn't take care of himself (couldn't, and most of the times simply didn't bother to do it).
They walked in silence for a minute or so, too weary for their usual banter.
"Come on", Chuuya said, breaking the silence when they approached his apartment. He grabbed Dazai's wrist and started to pull him towards the door, preventing him to move onward to his own room.
"I know you can't stay away from me, Chibi, but I'd really like to go to my room and sleep".
"Shut up, shitty Dazai", he answered, not having the strength for a better comeback and focusing on fumbling with his key and open the door.
Weirdly enough, Dazai really did not say anything more as Chuuya led him through the small apartment he called home and to the bedroom.
"Wait here, and don't dirty my sheets with your stupid blood, or I'll kill you".
"Sure, sure".
He went to the bathroom to take the first aid kit, groaning in pain as his every muscle seemed to be screaming and begging him to sit down and rest. He wasn't hurt like Dazai - he was actually very proud of the fact that he was definitely better than Dazai was at avoiding bullets and such, thanks to his ability - still, he probably needed to take care of himself, too.
Why am I even doing this?, he wondered, annoyed at himself and his own stupid feelings for the stupid waste of bandages waiting in the other room.
Chasing the thought out of his mind was as hard as usual.
Why did he even feel like that? He hated everything about Dazai - starting from his self confidence, to his continuous suicide attempts, from how annoyingly clever he was to how irritating he was when he decided that he wanted to make Chuuya's life difficult.
He cut his own train of thoughts off before he could derail on way too familiar paths. He had wasted too much time thinking about Dazai, the list of things he hated about him more often than not turning into a precise account of tiny details that Chuuya had gathered during all the times he couldn't bring himself to stop looking at his partner - like the quirk of his lips when he smiled, the dangerous light in his eyes when he was facing an enemy, the tone of his voice and the way it sent shivers down Chuuya's back, the freeing sensation that for some reason filled him whenever they were together and Dazai let the mask that he always wore for everyone else fall for a moment.
Ugh, stop it, Chuuya told himself, shutting the cabinet and hoping that his troublesome thoughts had been trapped inside.
Of course, when he came back to his room, he found Dazai lying on the bed, arms spread open at his sides, eyes closed, and a relaxed expression on his face. A way too relaxed face for someone who was definitely dirtying Chuuya's sheets with blood.
Why did he even like that asshole?
The kick on his legs was earned, and Dazai was probably expecting it anyway.
"Ouch, Chuuyaaaa, why are you like this, I thought you were supposed to treat my wounds, not cause more!"
"You dirtied my sheets, you fucking asshole", he replied, but he sat himself next to Dazai, and took out what he needed from the first aid kit, as Dazai got up and put himself in a sitting position.
They stayed in silence for a while, as Chuuya cleaned first the wound on Dazai's cheek, and then tried his best not to stare as he took off his blood soaked shirt - because, even in that state and covered in dirty bandages, Dazai was annoyingly pleasant to look at.
He was probably too caught in his own thoughts and being angry with himself for even thinking that sort of things, because Dazai let out a hiss of pain as Chuuya was taking off his bandages.
"Don't be so rough, Chibi, what kind of nurse are you even?"
Chuuya barely resisted the urge of punching him, or kicking him right in his still open wound. "Fuck you, I'm not your nurse! You should be grateful I'm even helping you, stop fuckin complaining".
"Why are you doing it?", Dazai asked after a while. The tone of his voice, quiet and unusually void of the familiar teasing edge, pushed Chuuya to look up from where he was cleaning the wound and met his eyes.
And what he saw in them almost made him feel dizzy. It was an honest question, like Dazai really didn't expect anyone - didn't expect him - to help him, or to care enough to do it. It made blood boil in Chuuya's vein. Of course he would help him, as if that was even a question!
"You wouldn't have done it yourself, and you sure as hell wouldn't have gone to the infirmary", he answered, breaking eye contact and resuming his work. "You suck at taking care of yourself".
He wasn't expecting the soft laugh that followed his words.
"I want to die, Chuuya. Taking care of myself isn't exactly my priority".
That made Chuuya even angrier. He couldn't understand it, couldn't get why Dazai was so careless about his own life, why he was so ready to throw it away.
He wasn't sure if he was angry only at Dazai for being like that or also at himself for not being able to help him in any way.
"You're so fuckin selfish, you know that?"
Another chuckle, but when Chuuya looked up again, he didn't see any teasing or laugh in Dazai's expression, only sad resignation, and maybe what could have been a hint of regret.
"Yeah, I know".
Unable to stand that look, and at the same time not really wanting to look away, Chuuya gathered his strength and turned away, taking new bandages and starting to wrap Dazai's torso again.
They finished in an heavy and not really comfortable silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
When Chuuya went to the bathroom to put back the first aid kit, he almost expected to come back to an empty room. Instead, he had to blink a few times to make sure that the scene before his eyes wasn't just a weird product of his overtired mind.
"What are you doing?"
"Tryin' to sleep", Dazai answered, his voice muffled from the pillow he was hiding his face into.
"That's my bed", Chuuya pointed out, as his eyes were fixed on Dazai, who was snuggled on his bed, lying on his uninjured side, his back to Chuuya.
"Yep, great spirit of observation, Chibi".
"You have your own room".
A sigh. "Are you planning on keep saying obvious things or will you let me sleep?"
Really, Chuuya asked himself, why do I even like this guy?
"You could take the couch if you want to stay here, why would I let you sleep in my bed?"
"You can take the couch if you want", Dazai said, as if it was the most normal thing, and he gestured vaguely with an hand, not even turning around when speaking.
Honestly, the guts that guy had. "Or I could just kill you and get it over with".
"You're too tired for that", Dazai said, the teasing tone in his voice evident despite the clear weariness. "Come on", he added, and patted the spot on the bed next to him.
It was really something, the way Dazai could at the same time make Chuuya's nerves pulse with anger and making his heart skip a beat or running like crazy.
"You're so fucking annoying", he murmured under his breath, part at Dazai and part at himself and his own feelings. He cursed again when Dazai chuckled and his heart decided that skipping beats was its new favourite thing to do.
The bed was more than big enough for the two of them, but that didn't make it any easier for Chuuya's traitor heart. And forcing himself to turn around and not staring at Dazai's sleepy relaxed features was probably the most difficult mission he had faced that day.
" 'night, Chibi".
Chuuya simply hummed in response, hating Dazai and the way he made him feel more than anything.
For once, he was grateful for the weariness of his body and mind, because he doubted that, if it wasn't for that, he would have managed to close his eyes that night. Instead, he fell asleep after not too long, his mind too tired to focus on anything but the regular and relaxed sound of Dazai's soft breathing.
He wasn't sure, next morning, if being grateful or not that the spot next to him on the bed was empty.
~ ~ ~
It became an habit of sort - Chuuya taking care of Dazai's wounds after a mission, when necessary, and then Dazai just refusing to leave his room and ending up spending the night in Chuuya's bed.
Saying he had gotten used to it and the proximity didn't affect him anymore would have been one of the biggest lie ever, because his heart kept skipping and pounding like crazy in his throat every time it happened, refusing to leave Chuuya alone and always ready to remind him of his misery and stupid feelings.
He still liked it, though (and at this point he couldn't really keep denying it to himself), despite how stupid the thought made him feel and the many nights spent without being able to sleep and staring at Dazai in the dark.
He liked the closeness, liked the warm feeling spreading in his chest as Dazai let himself be vulnerable (or, as vulnerable as he was capable of) when it was just the two of them. He liked the honesty of those moments.
He liked all that, and hated it at the same time.
Hated it because he couldn't understand why Dazai did it, hated it because it didn't happen often enough and, now, when Dazai didn't show up, his nights felt more lonely and his bed way too big just for himself.
Until, one day, it wasn't just to treat injuries after difficult missions anymore.
Until, one day, Dazai stared to come into Chuuya's house at night, occupying his bed without saying anything and sleeping there as if it was the most normal thing ever.
Sometimes, Chuuya came back to his apartment and found him already there, still awake as if waiting for him; some other times, he heard him easily picking his lock and coming in, followed the sound of his footsteps until they stopped near the bed, and felt the mattress bending under the new weight.
The first time it happened, it was the former.
"The fuck are you doing here?"
Dazai opened his one eye not covered in bandages and looked at Chuuya.
"Ehi, Chibi", he just said."Turn off the light, I was trying to sleep".
And really, Chuuya was completely justified for how his nerves pulsed and gravity increased around him making the floor crack. He was also, definitely justified for the kick he aimed at Dazai's back.
"This is my house, you useless mackerel, what are you even doin here?"
Not that he wanted him to go, obviously - as his traitor heart had kindly reminded him when it had made a somersault as soon as he had seen Dazai on the bed and the prospect of a lonely night had turned into that of spending it so close with his partner.
A thought crossed his mind, suddenly, and he cursed himself for not having had it before.
"You're injured?", he asked, moving closer to the bed, worry starting to creep into his him.
"Nope", Dazai answered, and finally raised in a sitting position and properly faced Chuuya. "Your bed is simply more comfortable than mine", he shrugged, as that explained everything.
It didn't, not to Chuuya.
“Bullshit”.
He knew that Dazai wouldn't give him a serious explanation, though, not until he himself wouldn't want to. So Chuuya swallowed another curse and his heart that was pounding painfully in his throat, and changed into his sleeping clothes (safely hiding his hat in the wardrobe, like he had started doing after one morning it had went missing and he had only found it later, sitting comfortably on Dazai's stupid head).
Than night, Chuuya couldn't sleep, both his mind and feelings a mess impossible to unravel. He looked at Dazai, so close that he would only need to move a few immense centimeters to touch him, and yet always so impossible to reach and to understand.
He looked at him, and thought he wanted nothing more than close the small distance between them. Maybe it was the tiredness from the long day of work that made him act on his desires without really thinking about it - and so, he moved closer, like a haunted animal afraid to alert the one chasing him, until they were closer than ever. Not quite touching, but close enough that he could feel Dazai's warmth like a ghost on his skin.
His heart hammered in his chest.
He would move away again, he promised himself, he would only indulge in a few dangerous minutes, a secret that the dark of the night could hold forever.
Dazai's breath was soft and regular, telling Chuuya that despite him moving, he hadn't even stirred. Seeing Dazai so calm and relaxed was a privilege, and one Chuuya was extremely grateful for.
What am I even doing?
What is he even doing?
He wanted to know - he needed to know. Maybe Dazai knew about Chuuya's feelings for him, and that was his plan for mocking him and making his life hell? Chuuya shook his head at himself - that wasn't like Dazai; he was perceptive and clever enough that the chances that he had understood were scarily high, but Chuuya knew he wouldn't react like this.
No, this was something else. Maybe Dazai simply didn't want to sleep alone.
Sighing, he gave up on trying to find an answer - Dazai was a dilemma, an unsolvable mystery whose answer only he knew. Chuuya had no chance of finding it on his own.
He still couldn't take his eyes away from him, though. Even in the dark, he could make out Dazai's features, the lines of his eyes, his jaw, his lips.
Fuck, I want to kiss him.
He turned around in a swift motion before the thought was even fully formed in his mind, blushing, his face coming aflame under the weight of the embarrassment.
He didn't sleep at all that night, he spent it awake, all too aware of the body so close behind him (and yet not wanting to move away from it and put a safe distance between them again), and wondering where would he even find the strength to face Dazai the next day.
~ ~ ~
Usually, Chuuya would wake up to an empty bed (for the nights when he could actually sleep). Empty and cold like no one was there in the first place, and the whole thing had been nothing more than Chuuya's way too vivid imagination playing games on him.
There were times, though, when Dazai would stay and Chuuya would wake up, open his eyes and find him still lying next him, asleep.
Those times were the hardest test for his nerves and self control, the moments when he couldn't stop himself from indulging in fantasies and letting them play freely in his head.
He had accused Dazai of being selfish, but in those mornings he thought the truth was that he was probably as selfish as him.
Because he didn't know why Dazai was there, why he kept coming back - and every time he tried to ask him, the answers were always the same obvious lies, or a taunting comeback that told Chuuya that Dazai didn't want to talk about it.
But, what Chuuya knew for sure was that he wanted him to keep doing so.
He wanted to be able to be close to him, bask in the sense of intimacy they had built for themselves when they were hidden behind the curtains of the night. He wanted to keep looking at Dazai relaxed sleeping face, looking at his lips and imagining how it would feel to kiss him. He wanted to keep being Dazai's hiding place from whatever was going on in his mind.
He wanted to take whatever Dazai was giving him, no matter the reason behind it.
He wondered if that made him selfish, or simply stupid.
~ ~ ~
It changed, one night, and the careful balance of pretending they had built inside the four walls of Chuuya's house came tumbling down.
Chuuya was lying in his bed, waiting and hoping to hear the front door open, and Dazai's careful footsteps crossing the apartment and coming into the bedroom. And so it happened, after some long minutes of hopeful waiting, as so often it did lately.
It was just like every other night. Until it wasn't anymore.
Until Chuuya felt Dazai crawling into bed, coming so much closer than any other time.
Until he felt Dazai's arm coming around his waist, and his body pressed against his back.
He couldn't help how his body stiffened at the sudden contact, nor the way breath stopped in his throat.
It felt like an eternity until Dazai spoke.
"Chuuya", he murmured, and Chuuya could feel his warm breath tickling the skin of his neck. "You awake?"
"As if I could sleep like this".
The words were forced out through the lump in his throat and Chuuya himself could barely hear them over the pounding of his own heart. Dazai could probably feel it, feel the way his touch made Chuuya's heart run and his mind a mess.
Not that it mattered - after all, there was an high chance he had always known (because Dazai was simply too clever and observant, and Chuuya had never been good at hiding his feelings, especially from him).
Somehow, the soft nervous laugh that escaped Dazai's lips was enough to reduce the tension in the room, and Chuuya felt himself relaxing in Dazai's hold.
Without thinking twice about it, he brought one of his hands over Dazai's, holding it.
"What's wrong?"
Because it was crystal clear that there was something wrong, something that was making Dazai cling to him like that.
Chuuya knew him well enough to know that some days, for Dazai, were much worse than others, days when he had a dark light in his eyes and a serious tone in his voice as he talked about the inconsequence and dullness of living, and the free release of killing himself; days when he felt farther away than ever, trapped in his own too intelligent mind.
Minutes ticked by without an answer - or maybe it was mere seconds, passing like a lifetime to Chuuya's senses.
"I sleep better when I'm with you".
The words were a breathed murmur again his neck
He had guessed it, in some measure, but hearing Dazai saying it made it true, real. The words, quiet and honest echoed in Chuuya's mind for some long interminable seconds.
"Is that why you've been stealing my bed all this time?"
"Mhm", Dazai hummed in assent, and his hold on Chuuya tightened ever so slightly. "Does it annoy you?"
Stupid question, the most idiotic question ever - it made Chuuya wonder if Dazai was really as clever as he claimed. Or if he simply wanted to hear the answer coming from Chuuya's lips - like a game, where if he had to be honest, so did Chuuya, too.
"You always annoy me", Chuuya said in the end. "But I could have thrown you out whenever I wanted, you know".
Their joined hands were lying against Chuuya's chest, his heart hammering against them, and there was no way Dazai couldn't feel it. Somehow, the thought wasn't as scary as is should have been.
"But you didn't". A beat, a pause. "Why?"
It felt like a callback to that night, the one that started everything, when Dazai had asked him why Chuuya was helping him treating his injuries - like they were somehow back where they had started.
It would have been easy eluding the question, saying something that could take the conversation back on a safe track. But Chuuya found he didn't really want that.
Instead, he let go of Dazai's hand, and turned around in his embrace, facing him for the first time that night.
They were close - Dazai's arm was still on Chuuya's waist, their chests were almost pressed together, their legs touching, their faces so close Chuuya could feel Dazai's breath on his lips.
Dazai's eye not covered by the bandages was fixed on Chuuya, and even in the dark Chuuya could imagine the curiosity painted in it.
"I guess-", he started, then swallowed around the lump constricting his throat. "I guess sometimes I'm selfish, too".
"I thought I was the selfish one".
"Yeah, well, we can both be".
When Dazai let out a breathless laugh, Chuuya felt it tingling on his lips.
Silence, a moment suspended in time.
"Can I be selfish now, Chuuya?"
"About what?"
A beat of silence, the the soft whisper. "You".
Chuuya had barely time to wonder what that meant and to nod before Dazai was kissing him.
It was soft, careful, hesitant even - everything Chuuya had never thought kissing Dazai would be.
Where he had imagined fire and eagerness from the very first moment, there was a slow and tentative touch, where he had thought there would be nothing but passion and chaos, there was a sigh against his lips and a gentle hand cupping his face.
It was nothing like Chuuya had imagined it, and maybe that shocked him even more than the same fact that Dazai was kissing him.
Until his startled and overwhelmed mind caught up to what was happening, and reminded Chuuya to kiss back. And he did, placing a hand to the back of Dazai's neck to bring him closer, and pressing his lips more firmly against his.
That seemed to be the only assurance that Dazai needed, like he had been barely testing the waters until then, giving Chuuya the chance to back out if he wanted.
As if Chuuya could ever do that, as if he could ever turn back now and give up something that he had been wanting for way too long, haunted by his own thoughts and feelings. He parted his lips, letting Dazai's warm tongue inside, licking into his mouth, sliding against his own, letting his taste invade his senses.
It was still different than what Chuuya had imagined, even with the hot touches and eagerness in the way they kept drawing each other in, closer and closer like they couldn't have enough – and it was true, at least for Chuuya himself; he didn't think he could ever get enough of the intoxicating ocean of sensations he was drowning in in that moment.
It was in the way – wanting and hungry and yet languid and possessive – that Dazai was touching him, his fingers stroking his skin, their legs tangled together, and in the way Chuuya, with their bodies pressed together, could feel him shudder with every new contact.
It was in the way it felt like Dazai wanted, needed that as much as Chuuya did. And that, was a fantasy Chuuya had never really let himself indulge.
Chuuya wanted to ask what did it mean, wanted to ask Dazai why. But, between the confusion and the overwhelming feelings clouding his mind, and the press of Dazai's lips, his taste filling his senses, and the burning touch of his hands, Chuuya couldn't focus on anything but what was happening right in that moment, and couldn't bring himself to stop.
And maybe, the truth was that right then and there he didn't need a reason, he just wanted to keep going, taking what he had desired for so long and that now Dazai was finally giving him.
So they kept kissing, lost in each other, their lips meeting over and over again, for an eternity. Until they both were short of breath and like that, still in each other's arms, they fell asleep.
When Chuuya woke up, Dazai was still there, snuggled up against him, hugging him, their legs still tangled together. His eyes were open, fixed on Chuuya, his lips curved in an almost imperceptible smile.
For a moment, Chuuya thought he was still dreaming.
"Stop staring at me, you creep", he mumbled, voice slow from sleep.
"Ahh, but Chuuya! You're so cute when you sleep!"
Chuuya hated how his heart started beating faster at the compliment, despite the obvious teasing in Dazai's voice - he blamed the fact that he had just woken up, and that he could still feel the pressure of Dazai's lips against his.
He breathed out in relief at the familiar banter that followed and at the fact that Dazai didn't move away, keeping close to Chuuya like he didn't mean to ever let go of him.
It had been like a dream, the night before, like they were moving in a limbo or in another reality, where they could do and say whatever they wanted, and it wouldn't matter anymore once it would be touched by the daylight.
But now, now it felt like the two realities had merged, and they didn't have to hide behind the night anymore.
So Chuuya leaned in, cutting off with his lips whatever idiotic thing Dazai was saying.
"That's cheating, Chuuya".
"That's strategy, mackerel".
There was still something, though, nagging at Chuuya's mind, a voice that kept whispering doubts at questions.
"Dazai".
The tone of his voice must have given him away, because there was now a glint of seriousness in Dazai's eyes.
"Why did you kiss me last night?"
He wasn't expecting one of Dazai's hand to find his own and staring to play with his fingers. As if it was normal, as if it was something they always did, and not something that made Chuuya's mind short-circuit.
"Why did you kiss back?"
"Don't answer my question with another", Chuuya said, rolling his eyes. Then added, "And you know why, anyway".
"Do I? Maybe I want to hear you say it".
"Fuck you", Chuuya shot back, but it lacked his usual strength. "And don't elude the question", he added.
A sigh. "You said it yourself, I'm selfish - I wanted it, so I did it"
Chuuya thought it was fair, in a way – maybe, the night before, both of them had been thinking more about themselves than the other, too lost in what they wanted to think about what the other wanted and what it would mean for them .
It could mean everything, it could mean nothing.
What Chuuya knew was that it wanted to at least mean something . And he didn't know what Dazai wanted, but he was willing to wait, let him be selfish, as Chuuya did the same.
After all, it really seemed that, when it came to Dazai, he really was selfish.
~ ~ ~
Nothing changed, on the outside. It was still the same - the same banter, the same continuous insulting and teasing each other, the same fighting together as partners. What was different was that now, when Chuuya imagined kissing Dazai, he knew what it really felt like, the the taste of his lips engraved in his senses; now, Chuuya knew he could indulge in his fantasies without feeling stupidly hopeless, because he knew he could turn them into reality whenever he wanted.
Now, when Dazai stayed the night - and it happened almost every day - there was no space between them, their bodies as close as possible, their arms around each other, their fingers entwined.
"You said you sleep better with me", Chuuya said one such night. "What did you mean?"
He had learned that at night, in those moments when nothing else existed in the whole world outside the two of them, Dazai was more willing to be honest. And Chuuya was selfish enough to take advantage of that.
"Just that", Dazai answered. "My dreams are way too crowded usually, it keeps me awake".
"And they quiet down when you're with me".
"Don't boast, Chibi, it's just because you're too noisy and annoying, you make everything else seem quiet".
Chuuya laughed, and his arms around Dazai tightened its hold. "Mhm, sure it is".
“And what about your days?”, he asked again, after a while. “You said that your nights are too noisy and crowded- what about your days, how are they?”
It was a while until Dazai answered, so long that Chuuya started to think he had fallen asleep, or simply had no intention of answering.
“My days are even too quiet, usually”.
“Do I make that better, too?”
“You're rowdy, it's a nice contrast”.
To be honest, Chuuya hadn't expected that answer. The warm sensation spreading through him had become pleasantly familiar, especially on nights like that.
He didn't say anything else, letting Dazai fall asleep and lose himself in quiet dreams.
~ ~ ~
Nothing changed on the outside between them, but Chuuya couldn't help but notice that the times he had to rescue Dazai from a river he had thrown himself into, or save him from some other fanciful attempt to kill himself, had decreased noticeably.
~ ~ ~
Another day, another difficult mission, and another night that saw Chuuya and Dazai walking side by side in corridors of the Mafia headquarters, heavy limbs and aching muscles asking for relief in several hours of sleep.
It wasn't a question, when they stopped before Chuuya's front door - that, at that point, wasn't even just Chuuya's anymore (and the thought made his heart flip happily, like every time he saw the evident signs of Dazai's presence in his home).
It was an established routine - Chuuya going to the bathroom to take the first aid kit, Dazai waiting in the bedroom (and Chuuya was now sadly used to his sheets being tainted by blood) for him to come back and treat his injuries.
At one point, Chuuya had told him he could as well start doing it on his own.
Dazai had replied with "Why would I when I have you doing it? And I know you like taking care of me, Chuuya".
"Only because you're a huge baby and refuse to do it yourself", he had replied, but the blush on his cheeks probably gave away the fact that Dazai's words were true. And, judging by the smug smile on his lips, Dazai knew it, too.
Now, as he sat besides Dazai, studying him and the injuries that marked his body from the recent fight, Chuuya felt strangely serene, as if he was exactly where he needed to be. He was willing and ready to take care of Dazai until he wouldn't do it himself; and the simple fact that Dazai let him, that he came to him for comfort, that he let Chuuya in while everyone else stayed locked outside – it was something, and more than Chuuya had ever thought he could get.
They hadn't talked about it, about what their relationship was, about what it meant – but, even without labels, they both knew.
Chuuya was snatched away from his thoughts by Dazai's voice, breaking the silence fallen between them.
"You're bleeding", Dazai pointed out, looking at Chuuya's arm, where one of the ability users they had fought earlier had managed to hit him.
He had taken off his jacket and shirt already, and his arm felt stiff and aching, but nothing he couldn't stand for a little while.
"I know", he said, and shrugged. "It's nothing".
"A bit hypocritical, eh, Chuuya?"
And Chuuya had to stop for a moment and laugh, because Dazai was looking at him with a smile and mirth in his eyes - and Chuuya had the feeling that Dazai had expected that kind of answer from him.
"Shut up, unlike you I'm gonna treat my own wounds later", he replied, as he started working on Dazai's wounds.
They stayed in silence, Dazai with his eyes closed, relaxed under Chuuya's touch.
When he was finished, Chuuya put away the dirty cloth, and took a clean one and new bandages to treat his own wound.
A hand suddenly put on his stopped him from moving.
"Let me", Dazai said, softly, a murmur in the quiet of the room, and he took the cloth and gauze from Chuuya's hands.
Chuuya, on his part, was too shocked to even reply as Dazai started cleaning his wound. His hands were delicate and careful against his skin, but still able to send shivers throughout his body.
The effect Dazai had on him, even with a single glance or a simple touch, was enough to send Chuuya's mind in a whirl of overwhelming feelings.
"So you do know how to do this", he said, more to break the silence and stop his own thoughts from derailing.
"Of course I do", Dazai answered with an overdramatic roll of his eyes. But his voice was low, thoughtful, at his next words. "I just never thought it really mattered - as long as it didn't hurt. And then there was you, ready to take care of me", he added, raising his eyes from what he was doing and meeting Chuuya's. "I'm not good at taking care of myself, but it's easier when you help me. And I like it".
"A bit selfish, eh, Dazai?", Chuuya said, voice as soft as Dazai's.
"Guess you're right", Dazai chuckled. His hand was still moving carefully against Chuuya's skin. "But-"
"But...?"
"I think I'm tired of being selfish".
Chuuya had to remember himself to breathe, swallowed once to clear his throat - a maybe his head, but that seemed like it had stopped working, too busy repeating Dazai's words. Their eyes were still locked together.
"Yeah?", he managed to say, a smile making its way on his lips. He found Dazai's hand, that had stopped cleaning the wound and was now simply resting on Chuuya's arm, stroking the clear skin, and took it in his own, their fingers lacing together naturally.
It was Dazai who leaned in and kissed him, a familiar gesture by now, but to which Chuuya still couldn't get used to. There was no hesitance, their lips firmly pressed together and moving against each other, their free hands finding their way on each other's bodies, keeping each other close.
Chuuya thought he would gladly spend the rest of forever kissing Dazai, feeling his touch, his smell, his taste, feeling him, like nothing else existed in the world and his senses were only made to feel him, and him alone.
“You know”, he murmured when they broke apart, breathing heavily against each other's lips. “When we kissed for the first time, I was think more about myself than you”.
Dazai laughed. “That makes it two of us”.
“Told you we're both selfish”, Chuuya said, his hand stroking Dazai's cheek, his smile brushing against his.
Maybe that was what made them a good match.
“And what were you thinking about now?”
“Us”.
Chuuya smiled. “ Me too”, he said, and kissed him again.