Work Text:
Avoiding work was a specialty of Dazai's. He'd been perfecting the art of it ever since he was in the mafia, and he hadn't stopped when he'd joined the agency. They were used to him going missing for days at a time, sometimes up to a week or a week and a half if he was being particularly mischievous. It got him into trouble sometimes: on the small scale, he'd been kidnapped and his friends hadn't noticed. That could've been bad if he was in any actual danger. On the big scale, Kunikida often got into fights with him when he skipped out on work, and he sincerely hated pain.
Needless to say, Dazai had taken some unannounced days off from work. He'd spent the first day lounging around his apartment, but he'd taken the days off to satiate his boredom not add to it. He quickly came up with a plan, a plan that held a healthy amount of surprise and familiarity. He packed a small bag of clothes, bandages, and some snacks. He wasn't planning on coming home for a few days. He took off across the city on foot, humming his suicide song to himself. Knowing of a certain someone's dedication and penchant to work himself to death, Dazai had plenty of time to reach his destination.
Dazai set up camp on Chuuya's balcony. He knew Chuuya would be dead on his feet by the time he got home, and he'd probably smoke a cigarette and drink a glass of wine and fall asleep pretty soon after. But, that was the point of this after all. Dazai understood Chuuya; he could predict almost everyone of Chuuya's reactions, down to the places his face would twitch. But Chuuya always carried an element of surprise. It was fascinating to Dazai, that he could understand someone down to the last letter of their code, and they could somehow still act outside of that, like Chuuya was changing rules every now and then just to throw Dazai off. It'd been even easier for Chuuya to surprise him since their separation. He hated admitting that both of them had changed as people, which was to be expected over 4 years apart, but some part of him missed the passionate arcade fights and late nights doing paperwork together. Of course, there was plenty Dazai preferred now over then, individually and together. Dazai preferred the person he was now, and he knew Chuuya felt the same, even if it was hard to adjust to. He preferred how confident and in control Chuuya was now. Chuuya excelled at everything he undertook.
He needed a new insight, an even better understanding of his partner. He had every reaction that Chuuya could muster memorized to the smallest detail. However, it struck him in his quiet Agency apartment dorm that he only had Chuuya's reactions memorized when he was present. They'd spent so much time together at the beginning that their influence on each other had seeped into all of their actions. They'd had time to be apart now. Chuuya had new friends, new subordinates, had spent significant time overseas. Dazai had been struck with the gnawing curiosity of how the runt acted around people when the bandage clad man wasn't present. It was a stake out that would serve them much better as partners, especially since the rekindling of their relationship and truce between their organizations. The light flipped on in the hallway outside Chuuya's bedroom, pulling him from his musings.
Dazai made sure he was out of sight, observing as Chuuya threw most of his clothes on the floor: his coat, harness, hat, and vest. He immediately strode out to the balcony and over to the railing. It must've been a bad day. The only time Dazai found clothes scattered around the chibi's room were after bad days. The redhead leaned against the railing and ran a gloved hand through his now loose curls. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a drag, and then blowing the smoke out over the balcony. A part of Dazai wanted to intervene. He'd seen things get worse from this point; it was always better to intercept Chuuya's bad moods before he did something drastic like drank himself sick or worse. But if he saw how Chuuya handled it on his own, well... Dazai was here to learn how to better understand his Chuuya.
Chuuya seemed to be muttering to himself in between drags of his cigarette. He'd blow his cover teasing the hatrack for talking to himself, but he'd be lying if he didn't admit the temptation was there. When Chuuya finished the cigarette, he hesitated on the balcony before heading inside to the bathroom across the hall. He was probably going to shower. Dazai took the opportunity to figure out how he'd observe Chuuya during work. Going inside the Port Mafia headquarters wasn't the brightest plan, and it wasn't like he could ask any of his old Port Mafia subordinates to report of Chuuya's activities for him. Even if he did, they would probably blab to Chuuya warn the chibi about his brilliant plan. That'd ruin the whole point. If he could look through the security cameras maybe...
Chuuya emerged from the bathroom. He slipped on a large tshirt that covered his boxers almost entirely. Dazai again felt the urge to tease him and then congratulated himself on his self-restraint. He sat on the end of his bed and put his head in his hands for a few minutes. Dazai could see he hadn't taken the time to dry his hair the way he usually did. Almost ten minutes later when Chuuya crawled up into his bed, Dazai wondered if he'd eaten since lunch or even before then. He softly clicked his tongue. To think the slug got onto him about taking care of himself when he was being so hypocritical.
Dazai slept surprisingly well on the balcony, once he got over the regret of not setting up shop inside Chuuya's apartment. For one, Chuuya would probably notice he was there, and two, this made it feel more secret. He didn't care if Chuuya noticed he had used his things while he was away though. It would be more unusual if Dazai didn't break in every now and then. He woke up not long after sunrise to find that Chuuya was already gone. He wondered if Chuuya'd even slept five hours as he wandered through Chuuya's empty house, ate his food and used his shower. He made his presence clear - bandages in the trash can and things purposefully moved out of place. He knew Chuuya hated that. After getting ready for the day, he lounged on Chuuya's couch and hacked into the security feeds in the Port Mafia headquarters from his laptop.
He'd done this before, but not usually just to watch Chuuya's day. He checked up on him once in a while and also monitored the state of things. Sadly, his old boss ran a pretty lucrative and tight ship. Chuuya wasn't in his office, so Dazai checked the boss's office, the surrounding halls, and the kitchen. Finding no sign of his hatrack, he checked the gym. There he was. He'd stripped out of his suit into lighter clothing, some joggers and a tank top that hung on him in all the right places. He wasn't alone either. He seemed to be sparing with another redhead. Dazai had done a little digging on him. His name was Tachihara - he'd joined after Dazai left and rose quickly. He led one of the Black Lizard units that Dazai always avoided when they raided the Agency. He was strong, but it was clear that Chuuya was stronger and more skilled even without his ability. Tachihara looked down right stiff compared to how fluidly and gracefully Chuuya dodged his attacks. Chuuya's hands were in his jogger pockets, and it looked like he hadn't even broken a sweat. Tachihara threw another punch, and it looked like Chuuya was saying something. Dazai wished these cameras came with microphones. Tachihara laughed, and they reset.
Chuuya went on the offensive now, his hands never leaving his pockets, and yet Tachihara was hardly keeping up. Dazai could feel the impact of every kick that Tachihara had to deflect rather than dodge, and Dazai knew well how much those hurt. Chuuya even seemed to be holding back. It made Dazai squint his eyes and lean a little closer to his camera feed. Tachihara was easily knocked to the ground seconds later, and Chuuya gave a few more kicks into the air. He probably still had energy to expend. When Tachihara got up, Chuuya gave some kind of explanation and demonstrated some kind of blocking maneuver that Dazai thought looked needlessly complicated. However, in action it seemed to reduce the impact a lot. He wondered if Chuuya had learned that from Kouyou, but figured it more likely that Chuuya had come up with it himself. After a few more minutes Tachihara bowed and jogged toward the locker room. Chuuya's smile fell as soon as he was alone. It was a more neutral face than a relaxed one, and Dazai watched as he punched a punching bag in the corner a few times, the bag threateningly swinging like it would fly to the ground before Chuuya headed to the locker room himself. His face never changed, and Dazai also wondered if he'd lingered in the gym the perfect amount of time to have the locker room to himself. He wondered how many moments throughout Chuuya's busy day that he tried to have some brief privacy.
Dazai decided that it was an incredible phenomena. The next few days he slept on Chuuya's balcony, watching him through the port mafia security cameras and sometimes following him if he went elsewhere. He got messages from some of the Agency members, nothing important, just usually Atsushi talking about something that had happened during the day. And an annoying message from Ranpo that just said, "I hope you're learning plenty on your trip." That little brat knew everything.
Dazai had always known Chuuya was busy; Dazai had been busy as an executive, too, of course. But Chuuya actually did his work, and then some. He finished all his paperwork, had regular meetings with all of his squads, took the Akutagawas to dinner one night, fell asleep at his office desk another and continued to work the next morning like nothing had happened. Dazai slept in Chuuya's luxurious bed that night. Chuuya got calls, emails, texts, messages almost constantly, and he responded to all of them. He even texted Dazai once, just telling him to keep his bandages out of his trash can, an acknowledgement that he knew Dazai had been in his house. He met up with Kouyou for tea, trained Tachihara and Akutagawa after hours, took Elise shopping and actually seemed to enjoy himself. Elise seemed more relaxed and fun loving around Chuuya too. In amazement Dazai watched as Chuuya went about his daily life and only once got angry.
It wasn't an anger that Dazai was unfamiliar with, but it wasn't am anger he'd have expected. The anger Dazai usually saw from Chuuya was a light kind of anger, if he could get away with calling getting into physical altercations with the man light. What he meant was that it was play for them to be angry with each other, it was expected. And Dazai had come to realize that was how Chuuya approached everyone in his life. Akutagawa and Tachihara expected a laid back, yet strong and motivational mentor. He gave them that. Kouyou expected a sophisticated, reserved familial relationship. Chuuya gave her that. A protective concerned big brother for the Akutagawas. An entertaining, fun babysitter for Elise. A hardworking serious executive for the boss. An inspirational, strong, opinionated leader for his squadrons. Chuuya had a face for all of them. While all of those were words that Dazai would use to describe Chuuya, he rarely acted that way around Dazai, and he fit each role so easily when it was called upon. When he was alone, Chuuya didn't express much of anything. The only words Dazai could think of to describe his face in solitude were neutral. Tired. Blank.
The one time Chuuya got angry was after an audience with his boss. Dazai didn't watch the meeting, but he did watch the hallway when Chuuya came out. Chuuya walked quickly down the hall, forcing Dazai to change cameras fast to keep up. He didn't slow down until he was all the way back in his office. With the door safely closed behind him, his face twisted into a hellish rage. He didn't speak, but he did pick up one of the chairs in his office and launch it against his wall with his full strength. It exploded into splinters. He shattered a vase, threw his things from his desk, flipped his coffee table. He stood huffing in the center of his room. Dazai could see him doing exercises to control his heart rate and breathing. He calmed down and sat on the couch, the one untouched place in his room. He called someone, probably someone to clean the room and put it back into order, and then he stood and walked calmly from the room.
Dazai didn't move from his spot on Chuuya's couch. It was time to give up the stake out. He had enough evidence. It only took twenty minutes for Chuuya to get home. The door flung open harder than usual, and after a minute, Chuuya walked by coatless, hatless, and shoeless. He paused in the hallway, making eye contact with Dazai. He looked a little shocked, but that was quickly replaced by thinly controlled anger.
"What do you want, you shitty bandage waster? I'm not in the mood today."
Dazai leaned back against Chuuya's sofa. "Are you actually angry, or do you just think I expect you to be."
That got Chuuya's attention. His eyes flitted to the laptop next to dazai and he squinted. "I don't have the patience for your mind games, Asshole. Spit it out already."
"You had an interesting week. It was fun to watch, but you always manage to surprise me, Chibi. I wanted to have a nice chat, but you seem strung out for now."
Chuuya stomped toward him and opened his laptop. Dazai had left the footage of the port mafia security cameras rolling. Chuuyas' nostrils flared. "Is that why you've been sleeping on my balcony? Just to watch my day? Fucking pervert."
Dazai blinked, he wasn't surprised that Chuuya knew, he was more surprised that Chuuya hadn't kicked him out immediately. Or welcomed him in. "I was curious to see how you acted when I wasn't around. It was eye opening. Its tiring isn't Chuuya? Being the pinnacle of everyone's expectations."
Chuuyas lip trembled in an emotion, genuine, Dazai hoped all the emotions he'd shown to him were genuine. Chuuya sank to the couch next to him and held his temples for a second before a deep sigh escaped his lips. "I'm tired, shitty mackerel. Get out of my house."
"How about instead I order takeout lunch since you haven't eaten today, and you go to your room until it arrives?"
Chuuya glanced sideways at him, a studying gaze. He was emotionally exhausted. "Bastard."
"You can rest, Chuuya."
Chuuya careened sideways, landing with his head on Dazai's lap and bringing his feet up onto the couch. Dazai placed his arm over his shoulder and his fingertips against Chuuya's bare wrist, earning a shiver as No Longer Human took effect. Maybe he'd conditioned his dog a little too well.
His breathing was already leveling out, and Dazai ordered delivery with one hand as he glided his thumb against Chuuya's skin with the other. Once he was sure Chuuya was asleep, he murmured, "I did mean for you to rest in your bed, but I suppose this works just fine." He'd wake up Chuuya when the food was ready, and they'd fall back into their usual banter, but for now, he watched Chuuya sleep and allowed the small smile that swelled in his chest to lay on his face. Chuuya fulfilled many expectations in life, but at least he could relax and rest with Dazai's arm around his chest and their hands interlocked.