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Dazai yawns.
He can’t wait to get out of this dungeon. God, it smells like shit in here– the dried blood and mouldy walls mixing and creating absolutely disgusting scents. Still, he’s determined to get intel for the agency about Atsushi. And complete a little task of his own.
Okay, maybe the main point was to complete the little task of his own. With his schedule being so packed, he’s probably never get this done if he waits even longer– and as patient as he can be, he’s waited way too long.
Did he plan to get caught by the Port Mafia?
Well, yes.
But, the organisation should be cleaning where they keep their prisoners more often. After all, what if a special guest, like the infamous traitor and Mr. Youngest-Mafia-Executive, Dazai Osamu– decided to pay a little visit? He ought to complain about this! With the hefty amount of money the mafia makes, they can’t even set aside a budget to clean their dungeon? How pathetic!
And he’s already missing out on the softness of his (not his) comfortable bed!
And his (again, not his) luxurious penthouse!
The feeling of cold metal against his wrists isn’t new at all, he’s gotten used to them from going on missions since he was 15, and well, he got handcuffed to the bed a few nights–
“What a glorious view!”
The brunette stares, eyes wide open, a fake shocked expression plastered on his face, at the sight of Chuuya in front of him.
“Ah, this view rivals even a masterpiece worth 10 billion yen– wouldn’t you agree, Dazai?”
He smiles (low-key masochistically) at the figure in front of him.
“Long time no see, Chuuya.”
“What do you mean ‘long time’? You were home everyday and night until around two nights ago!”
“Aw, did you miss me?”
“I did not!” Chuuya lies, feeling his cheeks heat up. He walks over to Dazai, breaking the chains with a swift kick– but it seems like the shitty bastard was one step ahead of him, evident by the clang of metal meeting the concrete floor that followed after a snap of Dazai’s fingers.
He’d expect nothing less from an expert lock-picker.
(He’s even managed to break into Chuuya's penthouse multiple times. And keep in mind that Chuuya’s apartment complex has one of the safest security systems in all of Yokohama).
Dazai grins, satisfied. “My prince has come to save me again!”
“You could’ve escaped yourself,” Chuuya answers with a roll of his eyes, “but now that you’re here, I’ll have to make it seem like I beat you up now. In case Mori asks.”
The redhead’s statement is followed by Dazai beginning to act like a petulant child.
“Is this how you greet me? After I disappeared for two nights?” Dazai asks, wailing dramatically as he wraps his arms around Chuuya, embracing him in a tight hug.
To say Chuuya was surprised would be an understatement. The only times they’d ever hug consisted of three occasions: one, while they were drunk; two, unconsciously cuddling each other while they were sleeping; or three, after a particularly scary nightmare.
It was fair to say that the redhead wasn’t sure how to react at all– hands awkwardly finding their way to the brunette’s back and patting it as Dazai fake-sobbed into Chuuya’s shoulder.
Was today a special day? Did Dazai have a bad dream while sleeping here? Is he feeling exhausted from staying in the dungeon for too long?
They never did lots of the soft, sweet and sappy stuff in public, both of them clearly knew that– but all of Chuuya’s pleasant surprise went away once he felt a hand dig into the pocket of his pants, where his wallet is.
“Are you trying to pick-pocket me, you bastard!”
Chuuya slaps Dazai’s hand away and the brunette winces in pain, again, dramatically. He still can’t believe he’s willingly putting up with this insufferable idiot.
“How mean, Chuuya!” Dazai whines, stepping away and rubbing his now red hand, obviously trying to get out of this situation.
Who wants to get beaten up by the best martial artist in the Port Mafia?
Definitely not Dazai!
Chuuya cracks his knuckles. “Now, how do we do this?”
Dazai’s eyes widen in shock and he gasps loudly, in utter disbelief. “Are you seriously going to beat me up?”
“I told you! It’s your fault you got caught! If I don’t get you all battered and bruised, Mori will question it!”
Dazai complains again, going on and on about terrible, stupid reasons why Chuuya shouldn’t hit him,
(“You know how much I hate pain!”)
(“Isn’t that domestic abuse?”)
(“But you said you loved me!”)
With a sigh, Dazai finally surrenders and leans against the wall behind him.
Chuuya takes a deep breath before reaching into his pocket to get his knife out. He could make a tiny cut on himself, then spread the blood around Dazai’s clothes just to make the brunette look severely injured–
Wait.
Where is his knife?
“Looking for this?”
Dazai tosses the knife over to him, and he catches it effortlessly– a skill he’s mastered from the countless times they had to pass weapons to each other since they were 15.
“I’ll just make a small cut–”
Hold on.
This knife doesn’t look the same.
He brings the knife closer, examining the sharp tool. Flipping it over, he notices that the blade looks different.
There’s an engravement on it?
Will you marry me?
What the–
He lifts his head up and looks at Dazai, who’s already gotten down on one knee while he was busy studying the knife.
The sound of the weapon falling followed shortly after.
“Is this a joke–”
“Nakahara Chuuya.”
Chuuya gazes into Dazai’s eyes and finds his expression serious– gone is the usual playful grin, and in its place is a sincere look– probably the most serious face he’s ever seen Dazai make.
“I could give you a million reasons why I hate you– but if you asked me to give you a million reasons why I love you, I’m afraid a million won’t ever be enough.”
Chuuya steps closer, eyes still wide with shock.
“Remember when we first met in Suribachi City?”
The redhead nods, too stunned to speak just yet.
“Call it cliché, but the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one. I knew I’d have a crush on you. I knew I’d want to play video games with you until you fall asleep on my shoulder. I knew I’d want to be the one you wake up to every morning– and I knew I’d get down on one knee, one day.”
And that day happened to be today.
Despite their schedules that keep crashing, and an extremely tough interrogation-slash-test by Kouyou, he’s finally found the time to do this.
To propose to the love of his life.
“I love your smile, every single one of your freckles, and your pretty blue eyes. I love the way you’re so caring, and the way you’re so fearless. I love you when you’re happy, and I love you when you’re mad.” Dazai continues, reaching into his trench coat this time to pull out a small, black, velvet box.
He opens it to reveal a beautiful silver wedding band with a row of black diamonds embedded in the middle of it.
“I love you, Nakahara Chuuya. I’ve loved you since I was fifteen, and I’ll love you forever.”
Chuuya can’t even form a proper sentence at this point, the words unable to leave his throat– but the tears are leaving his eyes, falling in streaks down his cheeks.
“Will you marry me?”
Wiping his cheek and letting out a breathy laugh, he leans down and closes the distance between them, sealing their lips together in a kiss.
It’s messy, with Chuuya feeling his tears wetting Dazai’s cheeks, and the height difference is making kissing uncomfortable– but it’s perfect.
When they part, a light slap is placed on Dazai’s chest.
“You– bastard!”
“So, is it a yes?”
“Of course it is.”
Dazai stands back up, thumb busy rubbing away all Chuuya’s tears, and lips busy placing soft kisses on Chuuya’s cheek– the last one right near to his ear, before whispering to his now-fiancé.
“Hi, husband.”
“We aren’t married yet!”
“Calm down, chibi, I just wanted to try saying it,” Dazai says, resting his hands on Chuuya’s waist.
“I want a divorce,” Chuuya complains, but his arms find themselves around Dazai, head resting on the other’s chest.
“Already? We haven’t even signed the marriage documents! Chuuya, you wound me!”
The redhead laughs, forgetting completely about his previous plans to, quote, “beat up Dazai”. Mori would have to deal with the fact that the infamous number-one-traitor left without a scratch.
Oh well, the Port Mafia and the ADA would hear about Soukoku’s engagement very soon anyways.