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Oda and Dazai were the last to leave as always. The pair of them tended to hang around their usual bar for a little while after Ango had left for reasons shared but unspoken.
Sometimes one of them would come up with some futile excuse for why he had stuck around longer than needed.; maybe Oda had a bit too much to drink, or maybe Dazai had to get a ride. It never made a difference really, and such excuses didn’t change the unspoken fact that they enjoyed each other’s company.
Regardless, it seemed each night that they went out drinking ended up with the two of them sitting beside each other on the sidewalk outside the bar, whether they talked or simply relished in the presence of the other.
So that night in particular was no different than usual.
“Hey, Dazai?”
When Dazai turned at the sound of his name, he noticed that Oda had been looking at him, his curious eyes seeming to study something about him he couldn’t quite place.
“What is it, Odasaku?”
Oda stretched slightly and leaned back with his weight supported on his hands. “Earlier tonight. You looked like you had something to say.”
Normally when he could tell Dazai had something on his mind, he let the other offer to speak up first. But curiosity got the best of him right then. He argued with himself that it couldn’t hurt to ask, even if he received no answer.
Although maybe questions like that did have their consequences.
Dazai tipped his head. “You always look like you have something to say,” he countered easily, something of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.
“I do?” Oda asked.
“Of course you do. That’s how you know I’m holding back, isn’t it?”
“Maybe you’re right-” Oda let out a small exhale, his eyes shifting to look out over the street. It was quieter than usual, he noticed. And he was grateful for that. “-But you still didn’t answer my first question.”
“You didn’t ask a question.”
Oda paused. “Do you want me to ask it like a question then?”
“If you want me to answer it like a question, then yeah.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” He looked back to Dazai, and suddenly the inches of space between them felt all too much.
Dazai hesitated, his hand moving to brush against Oda’s knee. “The same thing you’re not telling me.”
And Oda knew that answered it all.
Instinctively, he shifted back.
“I can’t,” He didn’t say.
“I know,” Dazai didn’t reply.
“I want to.”
“I do too.”
“We could.”
“But we can’t.”
Oda opened his mouth to reply, but he had no way to say any of it, so he promptly shut it again. After a moment of hesitation, he got to his feet and Dazai did the same.
“Dazai, I think we should…” He trailed off. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what they should do, only what he wanted to do.
Before Oda could stop himself, his hand was on Dazai’s waist, and Dazai’s found its way to his cheek.
“I think we should too,” Dazai replied in a whisper.
Within moments, the space that remained between them was closed, Dazai leaning up slightly and kissing him softly. It felt slow, it felt right, it felt warm. But it was over seconds later as Oda pulled back. His hand that was on Dazai retreated back to his side and into his pocket.
“We should talk about this tomorrow, Odasaku,” Dazai said.
“We should,” Oda agreed.
But he knew they wouldn’t. They wouldn’t talk about it again because in reality, it meant nothing. In their world, a kiss shared between them was bound to turn into nothing more than a memory of longing.
So as they departed for the night with silent goodbyes, Oda wished he’d had the courage to not have let go of him.