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There are many horrors in the world, it’s no secret. And despite many people’s adamant refusal to acknowledge their existence, everyone—on some level, is aware of them.
The world is violent and cruel and unfair, and sometimes it seems as though the only way out is death. But death, doesn’t really do much good for anyone. At the end of the day, it’s just another horrible part of life.
Chuuya has seen all these things first hand, he’s been close enough to touch them. People would be surprised by how they seem to burn. And as a result of his continuous interaction with such things, not much scares the young executive anymore. He wouldn’t have lived this long if there was.
But that is not to say that he is completely out of touch with such emotions, as they always seem to sneak up on him in the most ridiculous of circumstances.
Like right now, for instance. Everything is fine, Chuuya’s fine, no threat, no danger. It’s just…
Dazai is staying over tonight.
It’s the first major step in their new found relationship. And while this is certainly something they both want—to the point of near desperation—up until recently the challenge seemed impossible to hurdle.
The idea of sharing a bed with Dazai again, doing something so openly innocent and affectionate. It just seemed so intimate, too intimate.
Chuuya on some level, is aware that this is a deeply irrational thing to be so stressed about. Because really their intimacy, at this point, runs bone deep. Their connection to each other has been resting heavy on their chests since they were teenagers. It’s inescapable, two magnetic poles pulling them together.
Always, even when it felt like that pull was going to rip them apart. Even when they actively fought against it, and especially when they didn’t want it.
But it is a rare occurrence indeed for either of them to get what they want.
They should hate each other—really they should, but for some cruel reason, some unfortunate mistake, they ended up falling in love.
The universe has always made playthings of them.
There is no point in fighting it though, Chuuya knows that he could spend the rest of his life running from how he feels. But no matter where he goes, somehow the road will always lead back to Dazai.
They have both spent the past four years running, and still found their way back together. To something like a relationship, to a bed they can finally share.
And Chuuya is… unbelievably nervous. He has yet to be able to pinpoint exactly why . He has some basic ideas, (the intimacy thing, for instance) but none of them really make any sense. Which isn’t surprising, anxieties aren’t exactly known for being rational. It’s just frustrating.
He’s been wanting to have Dazai back in his bed for months, but now with that exact scenario only a couple hours away from becoming a reality, he is damn near paralized with fear.
He has just been staring at his bed for the past 15 minutes trying to decide how many pillows are too many, or which side of the bed Dazai would prefer, and if Dazai would rather have more or fewer pillows on his side.
That last one, thankfully, he believes he knows the answer to.
He’s only seen Dazai’s room a handful of times. Once so that Dazai could give him a guided tour of his extensive plushie collection.
At first he couldn’t fathom why he kept every single one on his bed. He assumed it was likely something stupid and annoyingly adorable like not wanting any of them to feel left out. But upon actually sitting on the insanely low quality mattress, it is really more likely that the plushies are not just for pure childlike fun but also to function as padding between himself and the springs.
It is a truly ridiculous way to accomplish that goal, but it simply would be Dazai if it were practical.
Though Chuuya will go on record and say he absolutely offered to buy the mackerel a new mattress. But Dazai just brushed him off, claiming that he is perfectly content with the bed he has.
He just wants Dazai to be comfortable for once in his fucking life.
Actually comfortable. While he is an impressive faker—with his easy going smile and soft eyes—Chuuya still knows his tells. It's taken years of constantly watching him, and doing so with a certain level of protectiveness behind it, and as such it is a skill that very few possess.
Sometimes he thinks Dazai should have been an actor, deceitful skills aside, he definitely has the face for it. Chuuya shudders to think about what kind of rabid fans he could acquire with looks like that. Thankfully it’s far too late for a career change quite so extreme, and public, but maybe in another life. One where the world was a little kinder to him.
But in any case, Chuuya is going to ensure his comfort and safety whenever he can.
Though it would be much simpler if Dazai would not be so strangely high maintenance yet still so adamant against ever receiving any kind of care.
A brat through and through, that one.
Chuuya has probably rearranged the pillows well over a hundred times when he hears a gentle knock at his door.
Three, far too soft raps against the wood. Almost like he’s intentionally making Chuuya work to know that he’s there.
Dazai hasn’t even entered the apartment, and yet has already found a way to demand attention.
Chuuya gives one last glance at his bed before he goes to answer the door, and he notices, rather dejectedly, that the pillows are definitely in the exact same place they started.
Oh well, it’s probably a better idea to let Dazai rearrange the pillows anyway.
Now, whether or not Chuuya ran to answer the door and greet his beloved idiot, is really neither here nor there. As there was no one else in the apartment at the time and Chuuya will swear till his dying breath that he walked at a perfectly reasonable pace.
He totally ran.
Chuuya takes a few calming breaths, with his hand resting on the doorknob.
When he opens the door he sees Dazai standing there in his usual attire and the same sly smile on his lips, like he has all the answers. Even now, in something as simple and domestic as this, he’s still playing as though he’s ten steps ahead.
“Hello Chuuya.”
“Hey.” Chuuya takes a moment to look him over, just a quick inspection to make sure everything is in place and nothing is broken. And he notices something very unusual.
“You brought a bag?”
Dazai just smiles, amused. “Of course I brought a bag, chibi. I didn’t think you’d appreciate me sleeping in my work clothes.”
“Shut up, I just figured you would make me give you some of my clothes, or some shit.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I would love to wear something of yours.” Dazai places an arm against the door frame, subtly leaning into Chuuya’s space. “But in case you have yet to notice, we aren’t exactly the same size.”
Dazai smiles wider, eyes practically sparkling with delight. “I think my Chuuya just wanted to see me in tight clothing.” His voice drops into something low and gravely, but so quiet like he’s trying to keep his words secret. “Or maybe he wants to stake his claim on me by having me wear something of his. Show everyone who I belong to .”
Chuuya knows what Dazai is doing, Dazai may be a man of many talents, but subtlety is not one of them. He’s nervous, and trying to hide it with outrageously flirty comments.
Which, first of all— precious.
But also knowing that Dazai is too feeling unsure is deeply comforting. When dealing with Dazai, there is always a bit of a struggle to get one's balance. And that is easily exemplified by Dazai’s ‘all knowing’ persona. But at the end of the day it’s just that, a persona. He doesn’t have all the answers, he’s just as scared, and unsure, and human as anybody else.
Chuuya lightly punches his shoulder. “Oh shut the fuck up you asshole. Just get in here before I change my mind.”
Dazai pouts just as playfully as before, but Chuuya can see the way he tenses, just slightly, and he quickly moves to come inside.
Dazai takes in the room, eyes trailing over the decor, scanning the room curiously, cautiously. Once he is satisfied with his inspection, he speaks up.
“I just didn’t want to trouble you, that’s all.”
Chuuya closes and latches the several locks on the door. “Huh?”
“Why, I brought my own stuff.” Dazai is standing with his back to Chuuya staring deeper into the apartment. “So that I wouldn’t cause you any trouble.”
What?
Chuuya grabs Dazai’s wrist and pulls the taller man back to him. Dazai is looking at him now, face carefully neutral.
“Don’t say shit like that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to ap—nevermind.” Chuuya pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just—you aren’t a burden and you aren't troubling me, okay?”
Dazai stares at him for a moment too long, and Chuuya’s eyes narrow, warningly.
“Yes, okay.”
“Good. Now, have you eaten?”
“Yes I have.”
Chuuya raises an eyebrow. “You know, for some reason I find that hard to believe.”
Dazai puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I did, I swear. When I was dropping my bunny off at Atsushi’s, he offered to let me have dinner with him and Kyouka and I did, you can even ask him.”
Chuuya huffs. “Fine, I guess I will trust you.” He fists the front of Dazai’s jacket and pulls him forward until they’re barely an inch apart. “But if you get hungry, you better tell me.”
“Or what?”
Oh Chuuya loves this game.
And while playing anything against Dazai can have its set of challenges, largely due to his cocky attitude and damn near psychic planning abilities, Chuuya has always had a special affinity for their little play negations
Chuuya smirks. “I’ll cry.”
Because this is one game he can actually win.
Dazai frowns. “Chuuya is mean.”
Chuuya would argue that ensuring that his boyfriend is properly fed is the opposite of mean. But what can you do?
Chuuya leans up, kissing him gently. “Poor baby.”
“Don’t patronize me Chuuya.” Dazai says.
“I do what I fucking want.”
Chuuya kisses him again, a little longer this time.
“And what do you want?”
Chuuya bites Dazai’s lip and holds it for a second as he moves away. “I want to go to sleep.”
Chuuya removes himself from Dazai’s grasp entirely and starts walking towards his bedroom. He doesn’t look behind him, he doesn’t need to, he knows Dazai is following.
He does call over his shoulder. “Hang your coat on the rack, will you?”
Okay, this is happening, Dazai is here and he brought a fucking over night bag. No going back now.
It’s fine, he’s got this, he’s fucking Nakahara Chuuya for god’s sake. Nothing can take him down, not bullets, not a fucking dragon, and certainly not a night with his boyfriend.
Though once they actually enter the room, Chuuya can feel his confidence stutter ever so slightly.
This is all just so new and fragile. Like the slightest little mishap, the tiniest step over the line, could send them toppling over. Back into not talking, back to hating each other. Chuuya doesn’t know if he could handle losing Dazai a second time.
So sue him, he's nervous.
“So…what side of the bed do you want?”
Dazai shrugs. “Doesn’t matter much to me.” He places his bag down on the bed. “Whatever side Chuuya doesn't sleep on will do just fine.”
“Well, I usually go for the right side.”
“Then I shall take the left.”
Chuuya purses his lips. “I really don’t care that much, you can take the right if you–”
“As much as I appreciate the pampering, I am really not that attached to my sleeping position.” Dazai falls back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Chuuya knows I can sleep anywhere.”
“Fine whatever.” Chuuya says, knowing full well that whether or not Dazai is telling the truth about not caring, this conversation is going nowhere. He turns on his heel to his closet, so that he can get out of his work clothes and into something a little more appropriate for sleeping. But maybe still a bit on the flattering side.
Nothing crazy of course, just something a little cute.
It’s pointless, he’s well aware of that. But he has this strange urge to make himself desirable whenever he’s around Dazai, like he needs to impress him. Like he’s in an honest to god, normal relationship.
It would almost be fun if it weren’t so terrifying.
Or maybe that’s just what new relationships feel like. Chuuya certainly doesn’t have any fucking clue. He’s not coming into this with a great deal of experience. And while he definitely wan’t celibate over the past four years, he wasn’t exactly engaging in meaningful relationships.
Like I said, it’s all very new. And for some reason that means he feels the need to dress up when going to sleep.
But luckily he had decided on an outfit hours ago, it wasn’t much of a problem really—not like the pillows. Chuuya knows what looks good on him.
He goes through his usual ritual of undressing without much trouble, though there is a slight shake to his hands that is certainly new, but that’s to be expected. He hasn’t ever shared a bed with someone before, at least not like this.
He picks up the simple black t-shirt and pulls it over his head, it’s on the tighter side of what he would usually choose to wear but sacrifices . He follows it with a pair of red plaid pajama pants.
It’s not exactly sexy, but he looks good.
One day he hopes that this all will become so simple, that he won’t feel the need to work up a strategy for when his boyfriend sleeps over. So that he can just enjoy the domesticity and the comfort of putting on his pajamas and climbing into bed without a thought in the world.
They just aren’t there yet, but they will be, one day. He has to remind himself, baby steps.
When he comes back into the room, he sees Dazai exactly where he left him, staring up at the ceiling expression completely blank. Like he’s a hundred miles away.
Dazai does turn to look at Chuuya, his face instantly melting into a soft smile. He sits up then, smile widening just a little more. “My Chuuya is always so stunning.”
Chuuya rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m a real knock-out. Now get changed.”
Dazai immediately stands up to follow instructions. Chuuya was half expecting him to whine that he’s too tired and that Chuuya needs to help him, but he’s being strangely compliant tonight. Which could be cause for worry, or it could be a wonderful, rare gift bestowed upon him by the heavens and he’s far too tired to question it further.
Chuuya starts moving into the bathroom, with the intention of washing his face and to brush his teeth. But he finds himself frozen in the doorway, as he watches Dazai undress.
First comes the bolo-tie, easily loosened and pulled over his head. Then the vest, delicate fingers make quick work of the buttons and then pull the garment off his body to gently place it on the bed. Then comes his belt, and the familiar quiet rattle of the metal. He can remember taking off Dazai’s belt—countless times really. The anticipation, the affection coursing through him, making his head spin and his hands shake.
Dazai always seemed so calm. Like he does right now, completely unbothered even as someone, who hasn’t seen him in such an intimate setting in a little over four years, watches him undress.
His pants come off in a single, fluid motion, revealing the pattern of bandages wrapped snug around his thighs.
There really shouldn’t be a pang of hurt in Chuuya’s heart right now, he knew they were there, he frankly would have been more surprised if they weren’t there. But it hurts all the same.
Lastly, his shirt. Blue and white, pin-striped and ridiculous. Walking an obnoxious line between subtle and gaudy, between mob boss and circus clown. Chuuya hates that shirt, and yet every part of him is practically screaming at him to steal it. There is a devil sitting on his shoulder, with a very familiar voice whispering about how nice it would be to sleep in, and how much Dazai would love to see him in it.
But that really is too much, at least for right now.
Dazai finally undoes all the buttons, finally removing the shirt, and dropping it on the bed with the rest of his clothing. Now wearing nothing but his boxers and bandages.
He finally looks up, like he just now noticed that Chuuya was standing there at all.
Dazai tilts his head to the side. “What?”
“Oh–uh…nothing.” Chuuya says lamely, like he just got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.
“Why are you just staring at me?”
“I wasn’t fucking staring.”
“Is that right?” Dazai unzips his bag, pulling out a soft blue sweater, patterned with gray leaves.
“Yeah, it is.” Chuuya turns to go into the bathroom, refusing to look behind him.
“My mistake then.”
Chuuya pours some of his face wash onto his hands. “Don’t make it again.”
He can’t really hear much as he turns on the faucet, but he can definitely hear a quiet chuckle coming from the other.
When Chuuya reenters the bedroom he sees that Dazai has neatly put away his day time clothes into his bag and placed it next to the dresser. There was plenty of room on the dresser, but whatever floats his boat.
He’s now sitting on the bed with his hands folded politely on his lap. The very picture of innocence.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Dazai tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you just sitting there?” Chuuya gestures at Dazai’s position. “It’s creepy.”
“Would you prefer it if I awkwardly scrolled on my phone with no real goal?”
“Yes, one hundred percent.” Chuuya says, like it’s obvious.
Dazai laughs. “Next time I promise I will, or at least bring a book to keep myself entertained while Chuuya is grooming himself.”
“Well, good.” Chuuya says, smiling secretly as he turns away.
Dazai eyes Chuuya curiously as he walks over to the large pair of windows that sit adjacent to the bed, pulling open the fancy, floor length curtains.
“Why are you opening the curtains?”
“Oh, well if I open them, it will let the sun in as it rises. It helps me wake up.”
Dazai looks appalled. “You wake up with the sunrise?”
“Not exactly.” Chuuya chuckles. “But I do wake up kinda early, when I’m not working super late.”
“How early?”
Chuuya shrugs. “Usually from 7:30 to 8:30, it depends.”
“W-why would you do that?”
“Because,” Chuuya walks back over to Dazai. “Some of us actually like to put effort into our work.”
Dazai places his hands on Chuuya’s hips. “And I will never understand those people. The mind of a workaholic is one mystery that will have to remain just that.” Dazai tosses his head back dramatically. “A mystery.”
“Oh shut up, I’m not a workaholic, you're just a freeloader.”
Dazai pulls Chuuya closer to him. “Oh Chuuya, why can’t it be both?”
“Alright mackerel, let’s go to sleep.” Chuuya ruffles his hair. “But go brush your teeth first.”
Dazai removes his hands from the other’s waist and stands up to do as he’s told once more.
And once Dazai returns from the bathroom, it’s time, there is no more stalling.
Well there could be, if either really wanted. But neither Chuuya or Dazai make a move to do so, as tempting as the thought may be, prolonging the inevitable is never helpful.
So, much like ripping off a bandaid, he pulls the cover down from being folded neatly against the pillows, so that they can get under them.
Fuck he hopes Dazai will like his sheets, he knows he already had this crisis before Dazai arrived, but he cannot for the life of him remember if Dazai likes silk or not. He had silk sheets back when they were teenagers, and Dazai never complained. But those were a different brand, and they weren’t exactly doing much sleeping on those sheets.
Well whatever it’s too fucking late now. Either Dazai is going to suffer in silence all night, or start whining about how uncomfortable he is, and for the first time in Chuuya’s life he actually finds himself wishing for the latter.
But, Dazai makes no such complaints, he quietly sits down on the bed and pulls the covers up to about his waist.
Chuuya follows suit, and lets out a long contented sigh the moment the back of his head hits the pillow. He had no idea how exhausted he was, but now that he’s laying down, he can feel every fiber in his body aching for sleep.
He gives one last look to Dazai. “Are you good?”
Dazai looks up at that, looking almost startled as he nods quickly.
“You sure?”
“Very sure.”
“Alright…well come here.”
Dazai moves over to him, movements rushed, eager.
Chuuya grabs hold of Dazai’s chin, holding him in place as he kisses him gently. Just a simple peck, a goodnight kiss, their first goodnight kiss.
Well not their first, first. But this is the first one that does not also serve as a goodbye.
He pulls back and smiles, as he is greeted by a beautifully dazed Dazai who’s looking at him as if he hung the moon and the stars.
“Goodnight ‘Samu.”
Then Chuuya pulls back from him, so he can turn to the bedside table and turn off the lamp. Once the room is dark, he lays back down in his previous position and stares up at the ceiling—not that he can really see it, it’s nothing but swirls of darkness. But he isn’t actually looking for anything, he’s just waiting for the calm of the night and the weight of sleep to overtake him.
He can hear Dazai lay down too, pulling up the blankets, and moving over to be a tad closer to Chuuya.
He sort of figured Dazai would be a cuddly sleeper, and the lack of long bandaged limbs draped across him is a surprise. And he has yet to decide whether or not it is welcome.
Maybe he should just enjoy the peace while it lasts, as there is a pretty high likelihood that he’ll still wake up with the bastard laying completely on top of him.
They lay there for a while, the silence so serene, the only light in the room coming from the faintest glow of the moon outside—throwing faint shadows of the furniture across the floor.
And there is this certain presence of…safety. It’s never something Chuuya has felt while going to sleep before. While most people’s, is something of a safe haven, for him there is always the fear that he might be assassinated or activate corruption in his sleep. But now, there is someone next to him. Not just anyone, but Dazai, is right next to him. He’s here and he’s alive and he’s finally going to stay.
The moment is so peaceful, it feels a little cliche to say, “almost too peaceful.” But it is a cliche for a reason.
He opens his eyes and looks over at Dazai who is lying there, unnaturally still and staring at the ceiling. The room is too dark to make out his expression, and even if Chuuya could see him, he’s sure he would be just as confused by the expression itself.
Chuuya sits up a little bit, propping himself up on his elbow. “Are you alright?”
Dazai doesn’t look at him, just giving a curt nod in response.
Chuuya runs his knuckles along the side of Dazai’s cheek. “Are you sure?”
Dazai nods again, somehow even more stiffly.
“Dazai.” Chuuya starts, tone dry. “You have lied to me a lot over the years, and I think this might be your worst one yet.” Chuuya tries to make his tone light, and it is, but there is a painful little reminder in his joke—ruining the intended purpose entirely.
Dazai’s voice is just a tad too empty to be truly playful. “Chuuya doesn’t trust me.”
God are we really doing this right now?
“And whose fault is that?” Chuuya asks, gruffly.
That seems to be the wrong thing to say, Dazai shuts his eyes tightly and turns to face the other way without another word.
And while Chuuya’s following response is not his shining moment as a boyfriend, he’s exhausted and doesn’t have the energy to try and decipher what exactly is wrong with Dazai, so…
“Fine then, you can just lay there and fucking pout all night if that’s what you want.” It comes out a smidge louder than expected, oh well, maybe Dazai will realize he’s being needlessly difficult and just explain what's wrong .
He doesn’t though. After Chuuya lays down facing the way opposite of Dazai, they lay there in silence for a good half hour. Neither of them are able to fall asleep. Though Chuuya is making a valiant effort, squeezing his eyes shut trying to force himself into unconsciousness.
But he just can’t relax, he knows exactly why, but he’s ignoring that person right now. But his mind keeps poking at him to stop being so stubborn and just make sure he’s okay.
Sniff .
That makes Chuuya’s ears perk up. For a second he wonders if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but then he hears it again, a little quieter this time.
Sniff.
Chuuya turns around to look at Dazai. He hasn’t moved at all, but his form does appear to be… trembling slightly. It’s like he’s forcing his body to be as still as possible, but it’s only making him shake more.
Instantly all the anger and annoyance melt away, as if it was never there to begin with. Dazai is genuinely upset about something—to the point of crying. And Chuuya was ignoring him.
Chuuya scoots closer to Dazai, pressing his front to Dazai’s back. And places his face against Dazai’s neck, close enough to his ear so that he can speak softly and still be heard.
“What’s wrong baby?”
Dazai doesn’t try to move away from him, but he does turn his head into the pillow, like he’s hiding.
Chuuya places a gentle kiss on the underside of Dazai’s jaw. “I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” Another kiss. “I know it's hard for you to talk about stuff, especially about how you’re feeling…” He trails off trying to think of the right words.
“I should have been more patient, I’m so sorry .”
Dazai lets out a little whimper, he’s still being quiet but he is rapidly losing his composure.
Chuuya nuzzles into the back of Dazai’s neck. “Could you please forgive me?” His hold tightens around Dazai, pulling him even closer. “ Please , this is our first night together. I don’t want you to be sad.”
Chuuya finds one of Dazai’s hands and squeezes it. “I just want you to feel better.”
Dazai doesn’t respond immediately. Honestly Chuuya wasn’t expecting a response at all, perfectly content to just hold him until he relaxes enough to fall asleep.
But Dazai starts shifting in his position, eventually turning around completely to face Chuuya. His face is still angled downward, but he can’t hide his expression as well like this. So Chuuya can finally see him.
And, fuck .
His eyes are puffy and his cheeks are streaked with tears, and his lower lip is a little swollen like he’s been biting it—trying to keep himself quiet.
Dazai has just been laying here silently crying the whole time, while Chuuya fucking ignored him.
God fucking dammit.
He’s the worst boyfriend in the world.
A monster .
Completely undeserving of the beautiful man in front of him and how hard he is trying to be good.
Chuuya wants to be strong right now, and try to comfort him and apologize properly. But he can’t help the way his eyes instantly fill with tears as he takes in Dazai’s appearance.
Chuuya tries to sit up, but Dazai’s grip on his waist is iron.
So Chuuya does the only thing he can think of, he threads his fingers through Dazai’s hair and starts peppering his face with kisses. Really the act is as comforting to him as it is to Dazai.
Eventually he lands on his lips, and they share a brief kiss. Lips sliding together only briefly, but still with so much affection and desperation. Every kiss they share has history behind it, old pain and secrets and longing. Something about it always seems to ache a little bit. Not in a way that is especially noticeable or bothersome—it’s just there.
Dazai, surprisingly, is the first to break the kiss. He pulls his head back, just a fraction, like he is going to say something. But when he sees Chuuya, his mouth shuts and he tilts his head to the side. “Why is Chuuya so sad?”
Chuuya starts frantically wiping at his eyes, because this is not about him. “Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.”
“But you’re crying.” Dazai says pleadingly, moving his hands to aid in the mission to wipe away the redhead’s tears. “Why?”
Chuuya’s lip trembles, against his will. “Because I just made my boyfriend cry.”
Dazai’s mouth falls open in a silent ‘Oh.’
Dazai shuts his mouth and swallows hard—looking for lack of better words—a little dumb struck. “I’m your boyfriend?”
“Of course you are.”
“Well how was I supposed to know?” Dazai retorts, indignantly. “I’m not a mind reader, Chuuya.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Dazai falls back against the pillows, his grip on Chuuya loosening.
But Chuuya doesn’t let him go. He sits up and moves to lay on top of Dazai and rest his head on his shoulder. They are both silent for a long time, as they try to relax into the new position, Dazai slowly becoming less tense, and moving his arms to rest on Chuuya’s back.
“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t hurt my feelings.”
“Osamu you don’t have to lie, I was–”
“I’m not lying.” Dazai says, looking down into Chuuya’s eyes, to demonstrate just how honest he’s being.
“Then why are you so upset?”
“...I was just frustrated.”
Chuuya rubs the side of Dazai’s jaw with his thumb, in an effort to soothe him. “Why?”
“...”
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but I really just want to help.”
“...I’ve just had a long day.” Dazai’s voice is a little quieter when he speaks again. “I’m tired.”
“Is that all?”
Dazai bites his lip. “I just…”
Chuuya doesn’t try to encourage him, he stays silent, allowing Dazai to take his time.
“I just wanted to–” He stops talking abruptly, and jerks his head in the direction opposite of Chuuya.
Chuuya lifts his head, propping himself up on his elbows on Dazai’s chest. And Dazai has his eyes squeezed shut, mouth pressed in a thin line—desperately trying to keep his emotions locked inside.
Chuuya places his hand on the side of Dazai’s face again. “Don’t hide from me.” He gently tries to turn the others head to face him, not pushing, just guiding. “I’ll give you anything you want, all you have to do is ask.”
Dazai’s breathing is a little quick, as he tries to say his next words. He seems to get a hold of himself, but his voice is still at a whisper. “...I wanted this.”
“This?”
“How we are right now…”
“Cuddling?”
Dazai all but flinches when he says that, as though Chuuya has released some horrible, unknowable secret onto the world.
“You just wanted to cuddle?”
Dazai doesn’t say anything, he just keeps his eyes downcast, laying himself at Chuuya’s mercy.
“Baby…” Chuuya cannot keep the raw, near heartbroken emotion out of his voice. And maybe, in this moment, his lack of control is for the best, because that causes Dazai to look up.
“Why didn’t you just ask?”
Dazai just shrugs.
“Did you think I would say no?”
Dazai huffs. “That is not an unreasonable assumption.”
“Sweetheart, you are literally in my bed right now. Why would I not be okay with cuddles?”
Dazai shrugs again.
Chuuya drops his head against Dazai’s chest in defeat. “Osamu, I’m not like—mad at you. You know that right?” He sighs. “I’m not going to send you away for asking for something. You’re my entire world, I just want you to be happy.”
Chuuya’s voice trembles. “B-but it’s like you’re scared of me.”
Dazai’s arms get impossibly tighter around Chuuya’s form, squeezing him against his chest. “I’m not scared of you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“You sound pretty scared right now.” Chuuya wheezes as he tries to breathe.
Dazai, noticing Chuuya’s discomfort, loosens his grip, allowing the redhead to actually be able to take in some air.
“I’m not scared of you, I’m scared of…messing up and losing you.” Dazai leans his head against Chuuya’s. “Again.”
“Dazai…”
Chuuya is kind of at a loss for what to do. Obviously the first step is to reassure Dazai that that is never going to happen, certainly not over something so minuscule. But saying. “Honey I’m not gonna dump you because he wanted a hug.” Is–well–extremely patronizing. And as that is literally what Dazai seems to be scared of, he really doesn’t think outright pointing out the absurdity of his fear would be all that helpful.
So he’s just going to wing it. It’s probably not the best idea in the world, but if he won't even try to make Dazai feel better, what kind of boyfriend would he be?
Well he’s already the kind that makes his boyfriend cry, so how much worse can he get?
Chuuya moves in Dazai’s grip, shifting upward so that his face will hover over Dazai’s. He rests his forehead against the others’. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“But what if I…do something wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if I kill someone you love or sleep with someone else?”
Chuuya sighs internally, he is so ridiculous sometimes.
“Are you planning to do these things?”
“No!”
“Then what are you worried about exactly?’
“Well–well what if I do something to hurt you accidentally?”
“Then you’ll apologize.” Chuuya says, easy as can be.
“...Why do you have so much faith in me, after everything I’ve done to you?”
Because I love you.
That’s the answer, that’s why. But he can’t seem to get the words out.
He’s loved Dazai for years, even when they were apart he held a flame for him, even when it hurt. And god it always hurts a little bit. When you love someone so much there is this ache that lives deep in your chest, it isn’t excruciating, but it flares up sometimes with affection or with the knowledge that you may lose them. But when Dazai left, the flame tore through his skin, practically burning him alive. That ache still lingers, the scars go deep , and whenever he thinks about that night—when Dazai left him without a word—that pain flares up a little bit. That’s what keeps the words from leaving his mouth.
He does trust Dazai, with his life, his safety, his body. But he gave Dazai his heart before, and he shattered it. And he just hasn’t healed enough to trust him with it again.
And Dazai seems to be aware of this, it’s almost certainly why he feels so anxious. That and the general self loathing that lurks deep within his mind.
“Because you’re my partner–”
“–Not anymore”
“ And, ” Chuuya says sternly before Dazai tries to interrupt again. “You mean everything to me, I need you.”
It’s not an ‘I love you’ in those exact words, but it is an admission of sorts.
“I missed you so much, I don’t have any plans on missing you again.”
Dazai doesn’t say anything for a while, probably looking for a stronger argument—the prick.
“I just don’t want to hurt you.”
Chuuya pulls away and sits up on Dazai’s hips. He’s smiling openly, soft and affectionate. “I know you don’t, baby.” he takes one of Dazai’s hands in his, lifting it up to his mouth and gently kissing his knuckle. “And you won’t”
“You don’t know that.”
Chuuya considers that. “No, I suppose I don’t.” He keeps hold of Dazai’s hand, now just pressing it against his cheek as he speaks. “But Osamu, I literally just hurt you, not even ten minutes ago. And you haven’t demanded that we break up.”
Dazai looks genuinely confused, a far too rare, but delightfully amusing sight. “How did you hurt me?”
“I made you cry.” Chuuya explains softly, trying not to let any signs of frustration and shame show through. This is not about him.
“But that wasn’t your fault I was already upset.”
“Yes, and I only made it worse.” He can’t keep the emotion out of his voice this time.
“But I forgive you.”
“Exactly, you forgive me. Because even though I hurt you, it was an accident and I apologized.” Chuuya takes Dazai’s other hand and squeezes them both, gently. Hoping that will help Dazai focus. “And if you hurt me by accident, you will apologize and I will forgive you.”
“Promise?”
Chuuya isn’t so sure if this is a responsible thing to promise him. There are no guarantees, and while most of their future disagreements or emotional mishandlings can be solved with a simple apology, that likely will not always be the case. Especially in their line of work, and considering that they are on opposing sides now, who could go to war at any time.
He really shouldn’t promise Dazai this, he knows it’s not a good idea. But he doesn’t really care about that right now, because right now Dazai is sad and scared and in need of some kind of reassurance. And Chuuya has always liked life better with a little risk.
“Promise.”
The moment the words leave his mouth, he can feel Dazai relax beneath him.
Chuuya kisses his cheek, softly. “I’m sorry.”
He’s not so sure why he feels the need to say it again, Dazai is fine, but it does ease the lingering guilt a tiny bit.
Dazai hums affectionately. “You’re forgiven.”
Chuuya feels like he probably shouldn’t be, at least not so easily. But he doubts Dazai will feel that way, and honestly they should really just go to sleep.
“Darling.”
“Hmm?”
“I really prefer sleeping on my back. Can we swap places?”
Dazai immediately starts moving. “I thought you’d never ask.”
They quickly maneuver into their preferred positions, Chuuya laying on his back and Dazai resting happily against his chest, nuzzling into the side of Chuuya’s neck.
Chuuya starts gently tangling his fingers into the mess of hair on his boyfriend's head, and Dazai practically starts purring.
He lets out a soft sigh. “Goodnight Chibi.”
“Goodnight Osamu, I’ll see you in the morning.”
It’s a wish as much as it is a promise.
He wants to wake up next to Dazai for the rest of his life, and maybe, just this once, he’ll be able to get what he wants.