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Small things brought him comfort. Warm meals, soft sheets, gentle hands. Seemingly insignificant words tucked away to remember in moments alone. Moments that had become more frequent as of late.
A quivering sigh escaped his lips as cold tips flipped another page, words still a mystery for unseeing eyes. He stopped looking at the clock a while ago, the numbers making the tremble in his fingers worse. Atsushi reached for his cup of tea, realizing not for the first time it was empty, warmth long since gone.
He rose to his feet to make himself another cup of chamomile, hoping that the liquid would soothe his frayed nerves. The matching cup standing cold on the counter forced the object of his affection – and worries – back into his mind.
It had been months since they had started their quiet dance, and months since he had realized that Dazai was much more human than others gave him credit for. At times the dance was a sensual tango or a soft waltz, at others it felt like nothing more than a solo act.
No matter how much the older man blossomed when shown affection, smile less sharp around the edges, sometimes the same warmth burned. Atsushi could understand the gnawing guilt, the same feeling that often built up in his stomach if he thought about how much he had. But he had slowly begun to accept it. Soft caresses and kind words slowly mended the gaping wounds, reducing them to seams and stitches. But the same couldn't be said about his...friend.
That word brought back the problem. They hadn't spoken on the subject. Despite all of his growing confidence, Atsushi could not bring himself to demand much of the man. Labels meant nothing, and yet the missing label was what he told himself was holding him back. Who was Atsushi to interrogate the man? They fell asleep entwined and kissed with the sun's first light, but they had yet to give it all a name.
Promises had been made before. Dazai had promised one too many times that he would stop ripping his skin to shreds, made after one too many teary evenings, the scent of disinfectant pungent. A promise that was often broken and made over and over. But Atsushi could continue to forgive and hope that one day the bandages would only be for show. He never held it against him.
Such words should have been enough to prove that the man cared for him. And yet. The moment the guilt became too overwhelming and fingers a little too numb, Dazai would disappear. Days were spent roaming while his partner would wait with cooling tea.
Atsushi understood it couldn't be helped. Dazai needed time to gather his thoughts and return to his functioning self. But at the same time, he couldn't help but think of the days after where the tune of their dance is too faint and steps out of sync. The days where Atsushi felt he needed to tip-toe around him in fear of hurting the man and sending him off spiraling once again.
The young weretiger saw how destructive the weeks of absence were, but the invisible barrier kept him silent and warm against his partner's side. But he felt that if the cycle continued he would one day never see him again. Whether it would be eternal slumber or simply the man's own feet that would take him away he could not tell.
Just he sat down with his cup of tea, the sound of footsteps neared his door. The relief that filled his lungs almost suffocated him and he had to take a sip to stop the tears from falling. The feeling was familiar, as was the routine. Dazai would come back and silently ask for comfort before falling asleep together. The next morning would be full of fake smiles and unrefined acts – preparation for going out into the world. The worries and sleepless nights would be buried as to not ruin the progress. The routine was slowly becoming their new normal, and the poisonous habit was slowly killing him.
Atsushi picked up his book once again, if only to force himself not to run to the man and smother him in tearful questions. Keys rang delicately from the now open door, the shuffling of shoes slow and lethargic.
Minutes passed before the young weretiger felt his partner's presence near, the faint smell of cologne soothing his beating heart somewhat. From the corner of his eye, he saw Dazai carefully falling to his knees in from of the small couch, knees making a dull sound in the silent room.
A cold callused touch forced Atsushi's gaze towards him. Damp mahogany locks framed soft ivory cheeks. He couldn't help but notice the marks framing hollow eyes, sleep likely a distant dream. Gently, Atsushi felt his hand being nudged away from the book, careful and pleading. Simply asking for the chance to hold him. He never apologized in such situations, for he had nothing to apologize for. But still, he was careful – guilty almost – when he asked to be comforted by the person he held so dearly.
Dazai held the hand he had been given and carefully brought the warm palm to his lips. Careful fingers curled around his cheek, thumb caressing softly. Lips moved along the arm to find a pulse. A strong heart beat under thin skin, pulse betraying how nervous the young man truly was. Atsushi discarded the book to properly hold him, cradling his dear's face gently. Dazai in turn melted under the attention, feeling lighter that his affection was reciprocated.
Atsushi carefully urged the man to rest in his lap, caressing curly strands. Dazai moved to lay his arms around the young weretiger's waist, movements still uncertain and careful. He nuzzled further into the young man's stomach, hiding from the questioning gaze.
"Dazai-san," the quiet call sharp in the piercing silence.
The form in his lap tensed. Words were never part of such evenings, the sound catching him off-guard.
"Y-You don't have to say anything right now, but I would like you to please hear me out," the young man continued, peering down at his companion.
A small nod was the only sign the man had heard him. It was enough.
"You know, I really love you," Atsushi said with a small smile.
Silence met his words, but he felt bony fingers dig into his sides. He continued.
"And I think...you love me too," his voice dwindled with every word, fingers shaking among amber curls.
"But sometimes I feel....like you don't remember that," he said carefully.
"This might be selfish of me, Dazai-san, but I would like you to talk to me sometimes. Even if you tell me you can't stand to be next to me, at least I wouldn't continue to be crushed by the loneliness," voice cracking, he raised his hand to muffle a sob.
"Be careful with your words, Atsushi-kun. You might regret them later," muffled words startled the young man.
He lowered his head to find dark eyes staring up at him, lips tight in a frown.
"Why are you crying, Atsushi-kun?" He asked calmly, hands still tight around his waist.
Hollow eyes broke the poor boy's heart even more. He lowered his head to rest against his love's head. A soft kiss pressed far too long to a crown of silky hair.
"I-It hurts, Dazai-san. It hurts that despite all the things you have done for m-me, you can't trust me enough to return the favor," the young man uttered through sobs. Atsushi wrapped his trembling arms around the brunette's neck, pulling him impossibly closer.
"I-I'm sick of being a coward, Dazai-san. But every time you disappear it paralyzes me. Your silence is too much for me to bear," Atsushi let out helplessly.
"Please tell me what I can do, Dazai-san," he whispered into the man's ear.
"Atsushi-kun, why are you asking me these things? What do you want?" The man questioned, touch gentle, but oh so cold.
"I want you to be mine," the words were out of his mouth before he could think what they meant.
"I want to be able to ask you where you are going and what you are feeling. I want you to let me ask you those things. Even if you never answer..."Words tumbled from his lips, eyes shut tight as to not see the aftermath of such boldness.
Stunned silence met his words and Dazai couldn't help but stare. He broke the embrace to look up at his beloved, tears now escaping through silver lashes. The realization that the diamond droplets were for him shocked him to his very core. The beautiful person before him was crying for him.
Dazai cradled the boy's head, pulling closer to quiet his love's distress. Soft kisses peppered on supple cheeks and closed eyelids, trembling lips, and uneven strands – the sudden need to express his love overwhelmed him, fingers burning where they touched soft skin.
"Atsushi-kun, you are so kind," Dazai started, sucking in a trembling breath.
"Could you ever forgive me?"He asked, looking into bleary eyes.
"F-For what, Dazai-san?"Atsushi asked with confusion, a heavy feeling settling in his gut.
"I know you deserve so much better, and yet I can't help but want you for myself," Dazai said with a hollow smile, fingers once again moving to the young man's waist.
Silence met his words. Cold fingers dug in tight, looking for purchase in soft skin.
"Do you hate me now, Atsushi-kun?" An eerie chuckle tumbled from cracked lips.
Before the thoughts could swallow him once again, a sharp heat shot through pale cheeks. Dazai blinked his eyes to see gloved hands holding his face.
"You are so stupid, Dazai-san," the young weretiger said, irritation shining through ametrine orbs.
The feeling of indignation shot through Dazai and he puffed out his cheeks, trying to pull away from his young companion. Small hands held on firmly, skin pink from pressure. The next words halted his escape.
"I have always been yours, Dazai-san," Atsushi said with conviction, voice firm and confident.
"You say you want me to yourself, but you already have me," his tender voice seeped into Dazai's veins, words stealing all his strength.
Dazai let out a pitiful chuckle, eyes barely holding back tears.
"That's unfair, Atsushi-kun. Such words would make even a strong man weak," hot tears silently slipped out onto slender fingers. Delicate touches removed them from wet skin.
"I won't be able to stop, you know. I can't be cured with a few words," Dazai said with furrowed eyebrows.
"I understand that," Atsushi said kindly.
"And I will still jump into rivers sometimes," voice getting slower with every word.
"I will fish you out," he giggled quietly.
"And I don't know how to do this right. I might – no...I will probably hurt you," Dazai said, voice bordering on desperate.
"I can't say I won't," Atsushi says sadly.
"But..." A deep breath. "If you will have me, I am yours," he finished softly.
Laughter full of unbridled joy rippled through the air as the young man embraced his crying lover. Among silent tears and blissful giggles, kisses are pressed against trembling lips. Sweet words are whispered between gasping breaths and fingers dug into flesh.
"Won't you answer me, Atsushi-kun? Don't leave a poor man waiting," Dazai said with a dazzling smile, eyes crinkling with joy.
"Dazai-san, you know what my answer is," the young man said with fond exasperation, adoration flowing like honey in his veins.
"How cruel! You wound me, darling," he whined, merry teasing bringing warmth to the weretiger's chest.
The first rays of sunlight shined through the open window, rays catching on honey-brown locks. Amber eyes looked into verbena sunsets.
And it was golden.
Atsushi couldn't believe that love could burn so hot and so bright in his chest at the sight of such gems looking back at him. But if he got to look at such a sight he would gladly be proven wrong. He reached out once again for his happiness.
"I love you, Osamu," saccharine words whispered at the break of dawn.
No words came to the man, the breathtaking sight causing his bones to ache. Suddenly his lover was too far away, even in his arms and he pressed himself to the young man's chest. So close he pushed he felt he could find his home among frail ribs.
Low voices were silent, if only for a moment. And in that moment...
"I love you too, Atsushi."
....he was loved.