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Dazai left Chuuya in the forest after the Lovecraft fight- of course he’s angry.
I used Corruption because I trusted you. Just take me back to the extraction point.
Sure thing, partner.
Another lie. Chuuya can trust Dazai with his life- Dazai wouldn’t want to deal with the fallout of letting him die. But simple things? Basic decency? Never.
Chuuya took another sip of his wine. Was he bitter? Hell yes. “Stupid detective agency motherfucker,” he mutters. “Mother fucker !”
He poured more wine into the bottle. Dazai hadn’t contacted him since the mission to save Q a week ago.
“Good fucking riddance,” Chuuya sneers at his glass.
Thirty minutes later, he hears his door opening. He expects Mori, maybe- he’s the only one with a key, not that Chuuya wanted to give him one, but Mori would just tell him to go to his office rather than drop by.
Dazai- stupid fucking Dazai - pops in. “Hey, Chibi!”
“Get out.”
Dazai pauses and looks at Chuuya- drunk, sitting at his table, staring at nothing, a half-empty bottle of wine next to him.
“Well,” Dazai says. “Don’t you look healthy?”
“Healthier than I was a week ago,” Chuuya says bitterly. He chugs the rest of his glass. “Get out of my apartment, Osamu. Now. I’m not playing this stupid fucking game with you.”
Dazai looks around. “You still live in this dump, huh?”
Years ago, when Chuuya first started getting big paychecks from the Port Mafia, he’d hoarded it. With the Sheep, he was in charge of distributing resources- he rarely had enough for himself, and he could never afford luxuries. He refused to spend money he didn’t strictly need to.
Later, he started buying nicer wine and slightly more extravagant clothing, but old habits die hard, and if he didn’t need a huge, fancy apartment, he didn’t understand why he would rent one. So he’d kept this one.
“If it’s such a dump, then get out.” Normally, alcohol would make him more belligerent, but tonight- tonight it’s one in the morning and Chuuya is so, so tired. He’s tired of doing whatever Dazai wants, whatever Dazai says, whenever Dazai asks him to.
“Well, it was coming here to going to the bridge by the bay and jumping, so I don’t think you really want me to leave, Chibi!”
Dazai sits down in the chair opposite and takes his wine bottle, sniffing it.
“That’s unfair,” Chuuya growls. “Even for you. Don’t act like I haven’t saved your sorry ass countless times. You don’t get to throw your suicidal tendencies in my face. Especially not after you left me for dead.”
“What?” Dazai asks, taking a sip straight from the bottle. “What’re you on about now?”
Chuuya’s grip on his glass is too tight, and it shatters. The only thing that saves his hand is the thick leather glove he doesn’t take off. “Really?” He snarls, ignoring the broken glass. “You left me, Dazai! You fucking left me after Lovecraft! What the fuck do you think I’m talking about?”
“Oh, that?” Dazai waves his hand dismissively. “Please. You weren’t going to die. You’re just so heavy, Chibi, I couldn’t carry you.”
“What if Steinbeck came back?” Chuuya asks. “What if the Guild’s gunmen came back? Where were you, genius boy? Taking Q, your little Mafia insurance card, back to safety? You don’t give a shit about me. You didn’t even try. Don’t lie. You can’t lie to me.”
Dazai’s expression sours. He doesn’t like being reminded that Chuuya can see through him, but doing what Dazai likes is so far down Chuuya’s list of priorities-
Now who’s the liar? The voice in Chuuya’s head asks sweetly. You do everything Dazai wants. You question his plans, but you always go through with them. Why is that?
“You were fine,” Dazai says flatly. “You weren’t in danger.” He takes another sip and cringes. “Ew. This wine is shit.”
“Get out of my apartment.”
“Aw, Chibi, don’t play like-”
“Do you think I’m playing ?” Chuuya yells, standing up and taking two steps so he’s in Dazai’s face. He doesn’t care that he’s drunk, doesn’t care that he’s aggressive instead of calm- Dazai doesn’t deserve his patience. “Do you think I’m joking ? Look in my eyes and tell me if I’m kidding around , Osamu.”
Dazai stayed silent for a moment.
The second he opened his mouth again, Chuuya cut him off, voice low and gravelly. “Get. Out. Now .”
But Dazai is nothing if not stubborn. He stands up, too, taking away the height advantage Chuuya had when he was sitting. He puts his hands on Chuuya’s shoulders, which Chuuya immediately shrugs off. Chuuya is glaring at him.
“Don’t touch me. Get out!”
“Chuuya.”
“I said get out.”
“Chuuya-”
“Get out!” Chuuya screams, shoving Dazai against the wall. Dazai’s head bumps, and he worries for a moment
because at the end of day, i just want you to be alive
Because it might leave a dent with how disgustingly thick Dazai’s skull is.
Dazai catches Chuuya’s wrist and says soothingly, “Chibi. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have left you if I really thought there was a chance you’d be unsafe.”
“ Liar ,” Chuuya says, voice cracking. “You fucking liar . Get out.”
“I’m not leaving,” Dazai sighs. “How could you think I really don’t care about you? I’ve known you since we were 15. Of course I care.”
“Didn’t care enough to tell me you were betraying the Mafia,” Chuuya says, monotone.
“I wanted to stop hurting you.”
“Fucking liar,” Chuuya whispers. “You are such a fucking liar. It disgusts me. Get out, Dazai. If you care, you’ll leave me alone.”
“I know you’re mad,” Dazai says. “Kouyou chewed my head off about it. She was furious with me and blamed me for the fact that it took you four days to recover.”
“You deserve it. Get out.”
“You spend all this time bitching about how I leave you,” Dazai says, “but you’re kicking me out the moment I try to stay?”
“It’s too late for that!” Chuuya throws his hands up. “It’s too fucking late for you to say, ‘Oh, sorry, Chuuya! Teehee! My bad!’ Get out!”
“Chuuya.”
“Stop with the guilt trips, Osmau,” Chuuya growls. “They don’t work. Not anymore.”
“I am afraid of you,” Dazai says.
It’s so unexpected- Dazai, afraid of anyone ? There’s no trace of mirth on Dazai’s lips. Chuuya grits his teeth. “Congratulations. You aren’t the only one afraid of Arahabaki.”
“You aren’t Arahabaki,” Dazai replies. “I am afraid of you . I never expected to meet someone like you. I don’t have the same opportunities as you, but I trust you with my life. The same way you trust me. But I can’t trust you to be predictable.”
“So sorry about that, Osamu,” Chuuya snips. “Your comfort is very important to me.”
Dazai huffs and smiles. “Yeah, I know. But you scare me. Arahabaki is predictable. You are not. You… make me feel almost the same way Oda did, and I hate it.”
Chuuya makes a face. “Seriously? That’s the best you’ve got?”
“Oda made me want to stay alive.” Dazai is still leaning against the wall. “It was you or the bridge- but I didn’t want to go to the bridge. I wanted to see you.”
“You had four years to see me.”
“I figured that if I treated you like shit, these… feelings would go away. And they didn’t.” Dazai grins. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Are you fonder of me now?”
Chuuya’s trying to wrap his brain around Dazai’s words, but the alcohol is getting to him. He stumbles backwards and sits back down. He can feel that his face is flushed- he’s definitely drunker than he thought. There’s no way he’s embarrassed- Dazai did not fluster him. “I was always fond. That’s why you make me feel like such shit.”
“Oh?” Dazai crouches down so he can look up at Chuuya.
“Mr. Observant As Fuck,” Chuuya says. “Don’t act like you didn’t figure it out years ago.”
“I did,” Dazai admits. “When we were seventeen. But you are not observant at all, Chibi, or you would’ve known that I felt the same way.”
“Then why did you leave me?” Chuuya whispers. “After Oda. After Lovecraft. Why did you leave me?”
“You deserve someone better than me, Chuuya,” Dazai answers softly. “Maybe, if I treated you poorly… you would move on.”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Chuuya mimics in a high-pitched voice. “Stupid fuck.”
“Stupid in love with you,” Dazai says.
“Why couldn’t you say this when I was sober?”
“You aren’t even that drunk,” Dazai says. “For how short you are, you’re not a lightweight. It must because you’re so heavy. Half a bottle of wine is not enough to make you drunk .”
“No,” Chuuya agrees absentmindedly, “it’s not. I’m going to remember every single thing you said tonight.”
“It’s morning.”
“Stuff it, jackass.”
“With your tongue?” Dazai asks innocently.
Chuuya glares at him.
Dazai puts his hands up. “Kidding, kidding. I swear I was kidding.”
“Sure,” Chuuya says. “Show me you’re actually sorry by cleaning up this glass.”
“The one you broke?” Dazai asked. “Why do I have to clean it up?”
“Because I don’t feel like doing it and this is just the beginning of how you can make up for all the shit you put me through because you’re a little bitch about your emotions,” Chuuya snaps. “Clean it up or get out of the apartment.”
“I thought we were over the whole ‘get out’ thing,” Dazai mumbles, but he goes to the kitchen and gets the trash can anyway. Chuuya puts the wine away and watches Dazai clean up- if he doesn’t, he might do a shit job.
When Dazai finishes, he looks back at Chuuya with a smile. “Good?”
“Adequate,” Chuuya says.
“Chibi,” Dazai whines.
“Quit acting like a dog.” Chuuya smirks. “Now who’s the mutt, huh?”
“It’s still you,” Dazai says. Before Chuuya can react, he adds quickly, “Can I have a kiss?”
Chuuya stares for a moment, then shrugs. He makes the come here gesture, and Dazai, smiling brightly, leans down. Instead of getting kissed on the lips like he wanted, and knows Chuuya knows he wanted, he gets kissed on the cheek.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that for a real kiss,” Chuuya says.
“However long it takes,” Dazai says, and maybe- maybe Chuuya doesn’t think he’s lying.