Chapter Text
Chuuya felt tired.
Not the kind of tired that could be cured with a decent amount of sleep, but the sort of tired that was so bone-deep and chilling, it felt like it was embedded into his skin.
And it's cure? Well, Chuuya didn't want to go down that train of thought, the sadness and grief overtaking his heart.
Chuuya hated Dazai Osamu.
Not exactly for the reasons he showed but, for the ones he was forced to hide.
Well, what's the saying that goes, ‘secrets aren't meant to be kept’? Yeah, Chuuya hated it too.
He was in a kind of predicament no one wanted to be in. He had just came back from a mission out of Yokohama City that Mori had sent him on, something about some newly discovered underground organization rising in the ranks posing a threat to the Port Mafia, which he easily took care of. Doesn't mean he can't be annoyed at how long it took.
He was sweaty and had blood on his pants from when he had thrown a guy headfirst into the ground since he had gotten too close. He just wanted to get back to his apartment, take a long, warm shower and pass out in his bed.
Which is why, when he finally reached his apartment door, he wasn't expecting to hear noises coming from the inside.
Chuuya huffed under his breath, annoyed at whoever the intruder was, though it wasn't hard to guess, considering there was only one person who would be stupid enough to break into a Port Mafiaʼs Executiveʼs apartment.
He still cautiously opened his door, finding it safer to not turn the lights on. His eyes caught onto the light coming from his kitchen and the unmistakable shadow of the one person he had ingrained every detail of in his brain. He shrugged his coat and hat off.
He crept towards his kitchen in silent steps, using his ability to make him lighter on his feet. The distance between the front door and the kitchen didn't feel too far, which exasperated him to no end, since he felt like he had reached his kitchen far too fast.
He exhaled in disbelief, a headache forming. He really didn't want to deal with Dazai, especially not now, when he felt so vulnerable and tired in his skin. He lifted his head, once he stood in the doorway leading into the fairly large kitchen, his eyes catching the stare of brown eyes already looking at him from behind a mug snuggly held in hands, that were attached to bandaged arms.
“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment, you waste of bandages?”
Chuuya really didn't want to deal Dazaiʼs bullshit right now. Dazai grinned in the most Dazai-way,
“Aw, I'm hurt, Chibi. Is this how you treat a guest?”
A guest is someone you invite into your house, not someone who breaks in and make themselves at home.”
Chuuya felt like he needed a drink, so he went to grab some. Instead of pouring himself a glass, he grabbed the whole bottle, opening it up and taking a chug from it before turning towards his former partner. The last thought stirred something unpleasant in his gut but he ignored it, just like he ignored any feelings or thoughts he had towards Dazai, except for anger.
Because anger, he could deal with. After all, he thrived on the feeling burning through his veins, the anger helped him focus, especially in a battle, when he wanted nothing more than to feel the thrill he got from using his abilities against his enemies.
“Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
“If you don't shut up, you won't be waking up at all.”
“Chuuya~, you'd really do that for me?”
Chuuya groaned, “I'll be making sure it's painful.”
“You wound me.” Chuuya snorted, “Good.”
A comfortable silence settled for a few seconds, Chuuya taking a seat on the counter, watching as Dazai took a sip of whatever was in the mug he was still holding. He slurped on his drink, pointedly looking at Chuuya, who grew steadily annoyed at the obscene noises.
Taking a deep breath, he activated his ability to grap the mug from Dazai, only for the former to leap towards Chuuya himself and grab onto his hand, that wasn't holding the bottle Chuuya was halfway through. He nullified the shorterʼs ability. Chuuya groaned in annoyance once more, “You stupid mackerel, why are you here?”
Dazai pouted, “Do I need to have a reason to be here?”
Chuuya pointedly looked at him. Dazai chose to ignore the look. Chuuya waited for Dazai to say something, though he, himself, didn't know what that something was, he had a suspicion. He sighed, moving to gulp down the contents of the bottle in his hand, only to be stopped by a hand on top of his. He glared through squinted eyes at the culprit.
“Alright, that's enough, Chibi.”
How dare that shitty Dazai interrupt his drinking session? He had absolutely no right to just start interfering in his life after no word from him for four years. After all, he left without a warning or a sign, and no, the explosives he had set in Chuuyaʼs car absolutely did not count.
Chuuya suddenly felt like crying.
Even if it was hard to admit to himself, he let himself feel in these moments when he had no restraints over his thoughts nor emotions. He allowed himself to admit to his, overly complicated but very much existent, feelings for the man standing in front of him.
Chuuya was normally someone who could take out an army on his own, face weapons of any kind without showing any fear, with a short temper, who would snap at the smallest of things (only with Dazai though, cause Dazai stirred up emotions inside of him that he hadn't labeled until recently, which only made things worse, now that the aforementioned individual was standing right in front of him, gently taking the bottle from his hands and placing it on the counter beside him, but far enough that he couldn't just reach out and take it back.)
And in this moment, just that gentle action made Chuuya suddenly feel a stronger urge to start crying.
The emotions probably showed on his face or Dazai was just able to read him that easily, Chuuya didn't know, but when his face softened and his eyes held this look that Chuuya couldn't quite place ever seeing there, he hopped off the counter, pushing past the brunet and making his way to his bedroom, ignoring the sound of a mug being placed down and the footsteps following behind.
He tried his hardest to ignore the lump in his throat, his sight slowly getting more and more blurry. It reminded him of the time when he had found out from Mori that Dazai had left, without even talking to Chuuya first. It had really hurt, especially cause he truly did care for his partner, even if most of their interactions had consisted of bickering back and forth.
Chuuya remembers opening several bottles of 1964 Romanée-Conti when Dazai had left. He wasn't lying when Chuuya mentioned that to Dazai, however, he had left out a detail. He wasn't happy, nor had he celebrated when Dazai left. Instead, he had mourned, had let himself feel that one night. He completely shut himself off from the real world after that, not letting his emotions get in the way of his work.
He also clearly remembers texting Dazai repeatedly, writing things he would never admit to nor ever say out loud. Chuuya thought Dazai had either changed his number or blocked him after he recieved no response, which he was thankful for, don't get me wrong, but Chuuya didn't need to know that Dazai had read every single one of those messages, and had felt a foreign pain in his chest, right where his heart was, upon doing so.
Though, Chuuya was ashamed to admit even now that he had become a little reckless the first year after that, getting injured more and more, and going onto missions alone most of the times, until he had finally knocked some sense into himself after a particularly bad injury that had left him bedridden for two months.
Chuuya furiously rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, gulping to get rid of the lump in his throat, to no avail. He hated feeling this way, especially when he was hyper aware of the presence of the brunet standing a few feet behind him.
Chuuya took a deep breath, forcing his tears back, and went to grab a change of clothes, only to be stopped again with a hand on top of his. He sucked in an irritated huff, turning towards Dazai, lifting his head a little to meet his eyes, praying to whatever deity was out there that his eyes didn't show any evidence of how loosely his emotions were stirring inside of him.
“What? What do you want?”
Dazai opened his mouth to say something, but Chuuya wasn't finished. Now that he had started, he felt like he couldn't stop, his words slurring a bit,
“What more do you want? The trust you broke when you left? Or the bond I stupidly thought we actually had? Because newsflash, asshole, I've been hurt far too much by this point and these annoying feelings won't stop whenever I even so much as think of you! Isn't it enough that you've ruined my life? Why are you here when you don't even care?”
He was borderline shouting now, getting more and more angrier the longer Dazai kept quiet, still holding onto his wrist. Chuuya lifted his other hand weakly and hit Dazai on his chest, a sob escaping his mouth. He quickly bit his lip to muffle the sound, not realizing he had started crying halfway through pouring out his heart.
Dazai was still looking at him with that unexplainable look in his eyes, which Chuuya absolutely did not want to believe was a look of fondness mixed in with sadness, because how the fuck could the Dazai Osamu be fond of someone like him? It just didn't make sense to Chuuya, so he decided to push at the firm chest covered with clothes, that he had started gripping on at some point without realization.
Dazai, anticipating the move, quickly brought him into his arms, not letting him go, even as Chuuya struggled weakly against the hold.
The brunet finally spoke, cradling the Gingerʼs head and running his fingers through his hair, “I do care, Chibi, or else I wouldn't be back now, would I?”
Chuuya supposed it made sense, especially since Dazai actually admitted to it. He buried his head in Dazaiʼs chest, nuzzling into the comforting warmth and inhaled his scent. He probably wouldn't have been able to describe how this scent made him feel a few years back but now? He would describe it as arriving home after being deprived of one for a long amount of time.
Chuuya felt tired.
Not the kind of tired that was bone-deep and chilling, but the sort of tired someone felt after they had finally let loose the tension on their shoulders.
He sighed, bringing his arms around Dazaiʼs back, gripping at it. He felt if he let go right now, this moment would fade from his fingers like dust, so he held on and closed his eyes, savoring it.
Chuuya felt Dazai move, his grip automatically tightened. Dazai paused, before softly speaking, “I'm just taking us to bed, love.”
Chuuya groaned in annoyance, not at the former like usual, but at the situation. He slurred in a sleepy voice, “Don't wanna move.”
Dazai fondly sighed at his childish antics, “Alright, I'm going to pick you up then.” He followed through with his words as soon as he said them, placing an arm under Chuuyaʼs legs and the other under his back, before gently lifting him. Chuuyaʼs arms automatically wrapped themselves around the brunetʼs neck, his head leaning on Dazaiʼs chest.
The brunet made his way over, placing the adorable chibi on the bed, before starting to move towards the closet to grab a change of clothes for Chuuya, only for the man himself to wrap his arms around his waist and, try and pull Dazai down onto the bed with him, squinting his eyes once it didn't work.
“Whaʼ are you dʼing?” (“What are you doing?”)
“Grabbing clothes for you, Chibi.”
“Dʼnʼt go, sʼay. Pleʼse.” (“Don't go, stay. Please.”)
Dazaiʼs eyes softened even more, if possible, his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. How had he not realized how badly he had hurt his Chibi? Dazai definitely should make up for it. Even though, it wouldn't wipe the hurt the Chuuya felt over the years, he could still made him happy enough that he doesn't have to dwell on the past anymore.
He knew the world had treated the both of them harshly, but he also knew that if the both of them decided on facing the world together, nothing could come in their way. Dazai wasn't afraid to admit it, not anymore.
He bent down and pressed a soft kiss to Chuuyaʼs forehead, the latter's eyes fluttered for a moment, before taking a few seconds to focus back on the former looming over him.
Dazai gathered his thoughts enough to reply with, “It'll take just a second.”
Chuuya whined low in his throat, refusing to loosen his grip, still stubborn as ever, “Pʼomise?” (“Promise?”)
Dazai didn't know what it was that made Chuuya agree when he responded with, “Promise.” but he could take a guess and say it was probably the sincerity he had managed to convey in his words. Chuuya finally let go of his stubborn grip, allowing Dazai to move away from him and quickly grab a shirt and some shorts, he also quickly grabbed a towel and wet it under ths water from the sink, placing it on the bedside table. He peeled off his coat, placing it on the chair in the corner, along with his shoes and socks.
He urged the shorter to sit up, who reluctantly got up, only to lean his head against Dazaiʼs stomach. Dazai smiled, a fluttery feeling overtaking him at the cuteness of the other. He quickly helped him out of his shirt, replacing it with the loose one he brought, gripping his shoulders and helping him lay down again. He took Chuuyaʼs own shoes and socks off before proceeding towards the pants, putting the shorts on, before grabbing the towel and gently rubbing at his legs where some of the dried blood had gone through the cloth.
Once he was finished with the task, he lifted the covers and got into bed, placing them on top of the both of them. Chuuya automatically turned towards him, burying his head into his chest, mumbling a, “Gooʼ nighʼ” before succumbing to sleep.
Dazai wrapped his arms around him, tangling their legs together, placing an affectionate kiss on his head, before mumbling back softly,
“Good night, my Chibi~”