Work Text:
In Chuuya’s defense, the bathroom door was unlocked.
He’d seen the light on, but the Mackerel had been in there for a long ass time, and he had to pee. So he opened the door without knocking because it was his fucking apartment and he could do what he damn well wanted.
That was a mistake.
Blood was the first thing he saw. Red and tacky, and though it’s not the most startling sight, given his current profession, it’s covering the arms he’s never actually seen in the seven years he’d known Dazai.
The bandages he wears might as well have been his skin. He never took them off, and had downright refused to take showers with Chuuya, despite the fact that they’d been partners together for long enough that such frivolous things such as being naked shouldn't matter anymore, because they knew each other better than they knew themselves.
Or that’s what Chuuya had thought until that door had opened, and suddenly he was at a complete and total loss.
As he finally found the strength to look away from the crimson decorating his marble counter, he found himself captured by the pair of brilliant amber eyes that were blown wide with panic.
Seeing the fear that almost never surfaced in those beautiful orbs, snapped him back into his own body, and he took a meaningful step forward.
Dazai flinched, but Chuuya was a man on a mission, and he took the knife away with little to no trouble, replacing it with his own warm hand.
Slowly he led the brunette to the tub, sitting him on the side to reach for the first aid kit they kept fully stocked.
It was a long process of stitching, butterfly bandaging, and cleaning what was left of the skin on Dazai’s forearms, but Chuuya did it all in silence, letting Dazai come back to himself piece by piece until fresh, white bandages were wrapped around the mutilated skin, and Chuuya had focused his attention on the drying blood flecked across his countertop.
“Chu?”
The voice was so quiet and out of character for Dazai, that Chuuya turned almost immediately, doing a quick once-over to evaluate his partner.
Confused and guilty amber eyes stared back at him, shoulders tightened in a mixture of defense and fear, hands gripping onto freshly bandaged arms just a little too hard. It was a sad picture for a man generally so regal, sitting small and childlike on the bathroom floor.
Leaving the counter for later, Chuuya crouched down in front of Dazai and pulled him into a hug.
“What. The. Fuck.” It wasn’t a question, and lacked the usual venom he’d put into such words, but Chuuya was a little preoccupied by the shaking hands clutching onto the back of his vest.
Dazai made a small sound in the back of his throat. “Can we not do this right now?”
“And leave it for you to never talk about again?” Chuuya asked point-blank. Leaning back to meet amber eyes with his own. “Not a chance.”
“Just till later tonight? I really don’t have the energy for this right now.” Dazai pushed his lip out, and pleaded with clasped hands, but the blankness behind his expression had Chuuya sighing.
“God fuckin’- fine. Later tonight. I’m not letting you fall asleep without a serious conversation though.”
“Yay!!” Chu~ Chu’s~ the best!!” Dazai exclaimed, fake smile adorning his face for the first time tonight.
Chuuya frowned at the hint of darkness still lingering in those amber eyes, deciding to let his partner have this without calling the man out, as he follows the idiot around as he pick a movie and orders dinner.
. . . .
The credits from an old gangster movie are rolling in Chuuya’s dark bedroom, lit only by a string of fairy lights above the door when the rumble of the red-head’s voice catches Dazai’s attention.
“We need to talk about it.”
Dazai stiffens in the comfortable hold of his boyfriend's embrace, but the red-haired man only pulls him closer.
“We really don't.”
There’s a hint of exasperation in Chuuya’s voice when he responds. “Dazai.”
Dazai huffs, matching his tone mockingly. “Chuuya~.”
The sigh he gets in response, ghosts across the back of his neck, making him shiver. “You promised, babe.”
Dazai clenches his jaw, but says nothing.
Chuuya’s next words are laced with hurt and border on pleading. “Please.”
Dazai takes a deep breath. It’s not often that Chuuya lets that much vulnerability show, and that alone is what gets him to respond rather than shutting down the conversation right then and there.
“I don’t like talking about it.” He pauses, continuing in a soft murmur. “I didn’t want you to know.”
Chuuya holds him even tighter, burying his face in the base of Dazai’s neck. “I’m sorry I found out the way I did, but I’m not letting this one go.”
Dazai sighs, aware the moment that door had opened that he wouldn’t be able to brush it off. “I know.”
There’s a moment of silence before Chuuya asks his question -tentatively- as if he’s afraid Dazai will bolt at any moment.
Which is quite fair considering their history.
“Are you punishing yourself?”
Dazai can’t help the way his muscles tense, and that has Chuuya pulling him around to hold him chest-to chest, where their hearts beat in tandem.
“Dazai, I know things were rough in the Port Mafia, but no one blames you for the things you had to do there. You got out, and you're doing really good-”
Dazai cuts him off, bitterness carving his words into a finely-tuned weapon. “I’m fucking not.”
"You are , Dazai. There are hundreds of people who look up to you, and you’ve saved this damn city so many times I can't even-”
At that, Dazai pulls away to stand and pace, unconsciously tugging at his chocolate locks.
“But its not fucking enough ! I’m not enough! It's hard, and I keep messing up. I wouldn’t be anywhere without Odasaku, and there’s so much at stake to do good! I can't loose the Agency, but I'm the only think keeping Mori from blowing up the building, and it's so much fucking pressure all the time." He pauses, staring out the window at the street stories below. "I’m not worth it.”
A pair of arms wrap around his torso, and Dazai tilts his head to look into Chuuya’s cirialian blue eyes. They're warm and accepting, but there’s a deep sadness in them that makes Dazai's heart squeeze.
“You are enough. Everyone messes up, it’s human, and the Agency is there to support you for a reason, Dazai. You don’t have to do everything alone. I’m really fucking sorry I didn’t see how much pressure you were under until now.”
There’s another little stab to his heart at that, and he rushes to defend Chuuya from his own self-deprecation. "I was hiding it on purpose. I didn’t want you to worry…”
The red-haired man takes a deep, shuddering breath, and Dazai stops in his tracks when he sees the tears gathered at the corners of those bright blue eyes.
“I want to know, Dazai. You’re my partner, and If I don’t know you’re struggling, then how am I supposed to help?” He drops his head onto Dazai’s shoulder. “God, I’ve been such a shitty-”
Dazai grabs his face, pulling it up to look the wonderful man in front of him in the eyes. “No. Don’t say that. You’ve been amazing. You’re always patient when I’m having an off week, you put up with my rants and weird habits-"
Chuuya cuts him off, voice cold. “But I didn’t notice you were in pain, Dazai.”
“I can deal with it-” Dazai starts to protest, but Chuuya is taking none of his shit, and talks over him again.
“No, Dazai, hurting yourself isn’t dealing with it.”
Dazai huffs, puffing his cheeks in a pout. “It’s not that big of a deal Chuuya, I’ve been doing it for years.”
The red-haired man stares back at him sadly. His voice is a whisper when he finally speaks. “That’s the problem. You shouldn’t have to.”
“I don’t…” Dazai steps back, not quite sure what he wants to say, but Chuuya has no such qualms, and pulls him back in.
“I’ve learned a lot these past few years with you. I was so used to being on my own, that I didn’t know how to rely on people, and you helped me through that, but I think you’ve spent so much time focused on other people that you’ve forgotten how to give yourself the attention you deserve, and maybe somewhere along the way you convinced yourself you weren't worth it.”
Dazai’s breath hitches, eyes stinging dangerously, and Chuuya catches his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“But Dazai, you are. You’re so worth it. Even if you don’t always feel like it, you are. So please let me help you get better. I don’t expect this to just go away, but I’m willing to be patient." Chuuya's voice cracks, and he swallows. "Come to me when you’re hurting like that. Talk to me about what’s really going on in your pretty little head. I want to be there for you like you were for me.”
“I don’t… it’s not… Chu. I don’t know if I can just stop . It doesn't work like that.”
Chuuya shushes him, running a reassuring hand through his chocolate locks. “Okay, okay that’s fine. Can we make a promise then?”
Dazai takes a deep breath, but shrugs in tentative agreement.
“Will you promise to tell me when you feel like hurting yourself? I’d prefer that you say something before, but even if it’s after you’ve already done it… let me patch you up. I want to know why you did it and what I can do to help next time.”
Dazai nods against the hand still tracing patterns on his scalp. "I don't always have a reason, but I'll try."
“Alright, thank you. You’re so brave, love.”
And that’s what tips Dazai over the edge. Tears run down his cheeks as he turns his face into Chuuya’s shoulder and cries for the first time in years.
The red-haired man holds him as he shatters, and Dazai finds himself wondering how he thought he could ever live without his Chibi.
Unbeknownst to him, a tear slips down from cirialian blue eyes as Chuyya realizes how close he'd come to losing his partner.
I'll be better . They promise each other and themselves as they fall asleep, tangled in each other's limbs.