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"Dazai?"
"..."
"Dazai."
"..."
A very tired sigh.
"Osamu."
"Yes, chibi?"
"I can feed myself."
Dazai hums, happily feeding Chuuya another spoonful of ice cream, ignoring the scowl on the other's face. It melts away with a kiss to the corner of his mouth and an impish smile that Chuuya could never truly be mad at.
"Wanna tell me why you're spoiling me?" Chuuya finally asks following Dazai's insistence to take him shopping, despite the Executive being perfectly capable of buying his own things. "I'm not a kid anymore."
A red cashmere scarf is wrapped around him, nice and snug, styled to his preferences by skilled hands.
"Chuuya was a total crybaby when he was a kid." Said man has a snarky retort on the tip of his tongue, ready to deny Dazai's words, even if he knows it's partially true.
"A lot of it was my fault anyway, so I should take responsibility, right?" The smile that doesn't quite reach Dazai’s eyes puts a bitter taste in the redhead's mouth. "Chuuya didn't have a proper childhood, but I still ended up ruining your second chance."
Quieter, softer, "Sorry."
Absorbed in the overpriced winter coats, Dazai doesn't notice the sneak attack of a matching blue scarf until it's being wrapped around his neck, briefly choking him as he's roughly pulled down to the height of a frowning Chuuya. He has no time to react before he gets smacked in the head, not enough force to hurt but enough to elicit a small, instinctual ow .
"Don't apologize for things you had no control over, Osamu." After delivering a quick peck to his lips, the first of today's intimacies initiated by him today, Chuuya leans back to take in the entirety of Dazai's face, gaze sweeping over every little detail of the man he's grown undeniably fond of.
"You helped me have the best childhood I could've hoped for."
Nimble hands finish wrapping the scarf around the brunet's neck, fingers purposely caressing the areas he knows hold the deepest scars, hidden underneath the bandages that act as a second skin, an added layer of protection.
Chuuya lets the fabric slip through his hands to throw his arms around Dazai in a hug, head tucking under the latter's chin, similar to how his child self had done countless times before.
"Thank you," he tells him sincerely, smiling when arms wrap around him just as tight.
Normally, Chuuya hates feeling small, because in his mind, small equals inferior, but being enveloped in Dazai's arms in a hug that has their chests pressed flush against one another's, cheek smooshed into a broad shoulder, and senses flooded with the brunet's scent, brings nothing but the pleasant warmth you'd feel when you snuggle up in all your favorite blankets on a chilly winter night, a hot drink cradled in one hand and a good book in the other.
Chuuya feels safe and at home in Dazai's arms.
And there's no better feeling than that.
There's a groan, deep and guttural, and a head that buries itself in Chuuya's shoulder.
"Chibi is so embarrassing, saying all these sappy things to me."
A hand comes up to cradle the back of Dazai's head, smoothing down fluffy hair, while he mutters incoherent words into the redhead's neck.
"That's 'cause I love you."
Immediately, the taller of the two stiffens, eyes widening to the size of saucers.
"What?" he whispers.
Twirling away from Dazai's embrace, Chuuya briskly walks past the register, paying for the scarves as he goes. Lips quirked up in a playful smirk, he tosses a glance over his shoulder, eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Nothing~"
Dazai's brain short circuits for a moment, before he's scrambling after him, tripping twice in his attempt to catch up to a laughing Chuuya, who's merrily walking a few meters ahead, whistling without a care in the world.
"Ah! Wait up, Chuuya! You can't confess your love then leave me hanging like that!"
Chuuya increases his pace.
"You're the worst," Dazai calls from behind, glare holding little to no heat. "I hope you trip on those tacky shoes of yours."
Ask and you shall receive.
Flipping the bandaged man off leaves Chuuya's front open to attacks from unsuspecting cracks in the pavement that do more damage than any enemy he's encountered, catching the man completely off guard and causing him to stumble. He would've eaten shit, if it weren't for swift hands lifting him up, preventing a rather shameful fall for a gravity manipulator.
The Executive blinks in confusion, still trying to process what the hell just happened. Azure meets metallic blue, both pairs of eyes staring the other down.
"Chuuya-kun~"
The man tilts his head to the side and spots his boss rounding the corner, pace leisure as he walks.
"We heard you're back to normal, so we came to visit."
We turns out to be what looks like the whole Agency office and a few mafia members, who are trailing right behind Mori. They all wave when they see him, and that's when it dawns on Chuuya how high up he is.
"Fukuzawa-san," he speaks up, addressing the man the same he remembers doing as a child, "do you mind putting me down now?"
The intensity of the older man's stare unnerves Chuuya to no end, making him squirm in his grasp, because what the fuck? He's not letting him down.
"Can you meow one last time?"
Chuuya pales, limbs itching to go into automatic fight mode, but he restrains himself. He has to . As mortifying a request as it is, he does feel indebted to this man for taking care of him multiple times. There's also the troublesome consequences of if he decides to punch him.
"J-Just once?" He curses his voice for cracking at a time like this.
Fukuzawa's stony expression doesn't change at all when he nods, save for the sparkles in his eyes that only shine brighter as Chuuya clears his throat.
He does his best to ignore the phones pointed in his direction, but it's a little difficult when they're pushing each other for the 'perfect angle.'
"Come on, Simba. Let me hear you roar."
Chuuya hisses at Dazai, ready to pounce on the bastard. "You can fuck right off."
"Chuuya," the sternness in Kouyou's voice has him deflating, imaginary ears pressing back onto his head, "we have children present."
"Ane-san," Kyouka pokes her head around the older woman, "Atsushi is eighteen."
Kouyou switches looking from a blank-faced Kyouka to a flabbergasted Atsushi.
"Carry on."
The heat that overtakes Chuuya's face bursts into flames as Fukuzawa starts petting his head, encouraging him to take his time and do it when he's ready.
He wants to die.
Mind you, they're in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking the path of the average pedestrian, who consequently has to witness this debacle of shame . Muffled as they are, Chuuya still hears the occasional snicker from every other stranger that passes them by.
Desperate to get this over with, Chuuya musters all the strength in his body to construct the quietest meow he could muster, meant for Fukuzawa's ears only. Unsurprisingly, this doesn't bode well with his unabashed audience, who begins to complain that they didn't hear him, egging him on to do it again.
"No way!" Chuuya is sure he'll combust with shame. "Fukuzawa-san, you heard me, right?!"
The man glances at Mori.
"Sorry! I wasn't recording that time."
Everyone can call his bluff, but no one does.
"I'll cry," Chuuya threatens, glare fierce. "Is that what you want? Don't think I won't, 'cause I will!"
There's a moment of hesitation, knowing that Chuuya has the guts to shed a few tears in public, if it means he doesn't have to make that wretched sound again. Hirotsu has seen it with his own eyes, how brazen his superior can be. Take away his hat, and the tears will start flowing.
It's unfortunate that there's someone a thousand times more shameless than him.
"Chuuya-kun." Shivers travel around their little group, the hairs on the backs of their necks rising up in alert. Danger is what they're sensing, and it's all coming from one man.
"Meow. That's an order from your boss."
How cruel.
Chuuya is powerless against a direct order.
"Ok~! Look this way, please," the doctor begins to cheerily instruct, as if he didn't just abuse his power to make this happen. "Very good."
The others feel bad, truly they do, but dammit, they also want a rare video of Chuuya meowing .
"And go!"
Chuuya, ever the perfect follower, looks directly at Mori's phone, lips pursed in a pout, and forces the sound out of his throat, lets it burn his throat and his tongue like acid.
"Meow."
The flush. The scrunched eyebrows. The averted eyes. The pout. Everything is perfect .
As promised, Chuuya is released as soon as Mori gives the okay .
The second Fukuzawa's hands leave his body, Chuuya promptly scrambles to Dazai, heading straight for his coat and inserting himself inside to hide away, making himself as tiny as possible to try and erase himself from existence.
While he's comforting a whining Chuuya--who for the record, swears on his life that he's not--Dazai motions for whoever has the video to send it to him.
To save Chuuya a speckle of face, the others bid them farewell, pledging their word to pay them a visit another time.
Being the fiery soul that he is, Chuuya craves to have the last word.
"You all caught me on an off day! The next time I see you, I'll kick your asses!" says the harmless kitten hiding behind the flap of Dazai's coat, top of his head concealed under a blue scarf.
With Chuuya burrowing face first into Dazai's chest, fists clenching the material of his tan coat in a vice grip, the duo are forced to awkwardly waddle like penguins out of there.
"What the fuck? Stop stepping on me!"
"It's your fault for being tiny! I can't see you!"
"I'm not tiny!"
A perfectly aimed elbow to his gut is the last straw for Dazai.
"Hey! What are you--!?"
In a show of strength no one knew the bandaged man had, he hoists Chuuya up in the air and throws him over his shoulder, leaving him dangling like a sack of potatoes--a feisty, red-faced sack of potatoes that is silenced with a quick, firm smack to the ass that's delivered purely because he wouldn't stop thrashing around. Dazai draws the line at Chuuya's tacky shoes nearly kicking him in the nuts, and the redhead was this close to crossing it.
"Keep it up, and I'll spank you again." The brunet splays his hand over Chuuya's ass in warning, daring him to try to disobey.
"You know better than anyone, that I have no problem bending you over right here and punishing you for all to see."
Dazai shrugs, nonchalant.
"Of course, it's up to you to believe me or not."
Chuuya goes limp in his arms, and Dazai doesn't need to see his face to know that he's wearing an irritated frown. They both know there isn't an ounce of shame in Dazai's body, and they both know he'll hold true to his word.
(He's also done it before, but details .)
"Geez, you're more troublesome now than you were as a kid."
"Shut up," Chuuya grumbles, thwacking the latter in the head when an adventurous hand delves a little too close for comfort. "Take me to our next stop already."
"Gladly."
The proud, nosy guardians watch the interaction in the bushes, a sense of fulfillment blooming in their chests as their little Chuuya gets swept off his feet, whisked away by a devil in disguise.
Sure, his chastity isn't safe, but at least he's in good hands.
Probably.
Alright, it's too late to save him now, but their jobs are done, and they're not responsible whatsoever for what happens to poor Chuuya's purity (or what's left of it).
Hey, that's a part of raising a child.
It's a bittersweet parting that was inevitable from the start.
They grow up fast, don't they?
The next step on the list is babysitting the grandkids.
Ah, but that's a story for another time.