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The monstrous sound of thunderstorms rattled the inside of Port Mafia executive Chuuya Nakahara's penthouse apartment. Every window was closed, keeping any view of the outside out of sight. Rain only reminded him more of what he'd lose.
Dazai Osamu loved the rain.
He loved to watch it from the comfort of inside a coffee shop, but he never dared to step outside. He feared the rain would ruin his bandages.
So Chuuya would shove him out into the rain. Playfully kicking him into puddles as they danced around in a squabble that shined a light on the childhood innocence they never had. They bickered like children and didn't stop until they could no longer one-up the other in whatever foolish game they played.
It was times like those when they could actually act like teenage boys.
However, they were not boys anymore. No.
Years had passed and now Chuuya was alone, abandoned by the one person he felt safe with. That small shimmer of light had long since been snuffed out and he was simply a bitter shell of what he once was.
That playfulness, the hyper-angry attitude he had when Dazai was around...was gone. Now Chuuya was stern, focused and dedicated to his work and only his work. Along with the occasional hanging out with Kouyou in which he let his guard down.
It had now been four, long years since Chuuya had seen Dazai. Sort of…
They'd met not long ago, two weeks ago when Dazai was captured. Chuuya had wanted to drop everything and hug Dazai, begging him to come back. Yet, he didn't. He carried out his orders and let Dazai escape.
His old partner seemed happier in a way. There was more life to his eyes, the Armed Detective Agency was treating him much better than the Mafia ever did. Better than he ever did.
Chuuya took a long sip of his wine. He'd downed a bottle and a half now in the past hour. He should stop.
This reminded him of when he had been informed of Dazai's betrayal, his abandonment.
He'd gotten the most wasted he ever had that night. All Chuuya had wanted was to forget everything, praying that when he woke up hungover and in pain that Dazai would be there to take care of him like always. Instead, he woke up on the floor of his overly lavish kitchen drenched in the scent of wine and despair.
Chuuya sulked in self-pity for weeks. He'd hunted Dazai down, blown up his phones trying to contact him and even wrote letters in hopes of them finding their way to him…yet for four long years there was nothing but radio silence.
The ginger had even questioned Mori about it who explained the situation with Sakunosuke Oda. Upon being informed of Oda's death, Chuuya calmly went back to his penthouse and then erupted in fury. He'd liked Oda, they only talked maybe once or twice, but he deeply admired the brother-like role he'd taken up for Dazai. Chuuya knew how much Dazai looked up to Oda, how much they cared for each other and he couldn't imagine how he must've felt having it stripped away.
He'd tried to think about how he felt when he had lost The Sheep. Yet he knew whatever he'd felt was tripled for how Dazai had suffered with the loss of Oda.
Chuuya cried that night.
No matter how much he claimed to despise Dazai Osamu, he knew it would never be true. He could scream it, write it down, or even carve it into his skin but the truth would always remain.
Chuuya Nakahara was in love with Osamu Dazai. Ever since they were 15.
There were times when Chuuya wanted to just grab Dazai and run away with him. He stupidly thought that maybe the brunette would give up everything to live a free life somewhere else with him. The idea was never brought up to Dazai, it remained a silly dream in Chuuya's mind.
There were instances when Chuuya would try to repress his feelings, however Dazai could always tell. He'd tease and poke at Chuuya just to see the red spread to his face. It was when they were 17 that Dazai confirmed he felt the same.
After saving Chuuya from corruption he held onto the ginger tightly as he frantically checked Chuuya over for external injury or anything else. Dazai had rambled on and on about how scared he was that Chuuya wouldn't make it and that if he ever overexerted himself that much again he'd kill him. That was the first time he'd seen Dazai's facade snap like a twig. He didn't care about teasing or jokes at that moment, only checking to make sure Chuuya was okay.
They never spoke about it again.
Yet for some reason Chuuya felt that just deepened their connection more. They didn't need to have a conversation about it, they just knew. It clicked in like a puzzle piece.
A week before Dazai left, Chuuya had planned to ask him on a date. An actual, official date. He'd gotten small things Dazai was fond of and prepared a perfect spot.
When he was made aware of Dazai's departure, the day he planned on taking Dazai he went alone. There he reminisced on the years they'd spent together while downing numerous amounts of alcohol mixed with salty tears.
Chuuya had finished two bottles now and was onto the third.
He cursed Dazai for doing this to him, then cursed himself for letting himself fall for such a man.
"Drink like that and you'll get alcohol poisoning, Chuuya," A voice sounded from behind him. The ginger recognized it all too well.
Dazai slipped onto the couch next to him. He was soaked, water dripping from every inch of his thin body.
Chuuya set the bottle down. No amount of longing could overpower the rage he felt in that moment, "Dazai get the fuck off my couch while you're dripping over here like a walking rain cloud!" He yelled as he stood up.
He wasn't exactly surprised Dazai had shown up, he'd allowed the sneaky bastard to snag his wallet. What he was surprised about is that he came in the rain without waiting until it had dried up.
As Dazai stood, water flung everywhere causing Chuuya to go into even more of a panic. He held a hand up, "Stop moving. Please stop. I will be right back."
Chuuya ran off to his room and gathered towels and a change of clothes.
"Aww how caring," Dazai hovered behind him, the cold water dripping onto Chuuya's exposed neck causing him to shiver.
Chuuya groaned and pointed to the bathroom, "Change."
"Now, now Chuuya we both know your pint-sized clothing would never even begin to fit on my amazing figure-" Dazai began but was cut off by Chuuya shoving him into the bathroom.
As Dazai was taking his sweet time changing, the ginger began to clean up the excessive amount of water his old partner had managed to fling across every inch of the room. It surprisingly didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. He was used to cleaning up after Dazai by this point even if it had been so long.
A whine sounded from the doorway, "Chuuya! Do you have any bandages? You've left me all exposed."
Chuuya turned to see Dazai standing in a loose fitted T-shirt and pajama pants. Both of which he'd stolen from Dazai's "house" along with several other items when he'd left. He examined Dazai's arms and neck and sighed with relief, no fresh wounds in sight.
When they were 16 Dazai had shown Chuuya what he looked like without any bandages. It was a day they'd revealed their most vulnerable moments together and since then, they had always felt comfortable showing them around each other.
Chuuya was glad that hadn't changed.
"Yeah, yeah," Chuuya waved at him to sit down as he walked to his medicine cabinet. He grabbed a specific brand of bandages he kept in the very back just for Dazai. Just in case.
The top was dusty and he wasn't even sure how old it was.
After dusting it off he made his way back over to Dazai who was looking at the clothing he wore over several times.
"These are from my old living space, " He noted, "Why do you have my old clothes?"
Chuuya didn't answer. Like hell he'd admit he used to sleep in Dazai's clothes to feel better. He would take that secret to his grave, "Just shut up and let me bandage you up."
Dazai didn't object, he held out his right arm and let Chuuya do his work.
About five minutes later Dazai's right and left arms were bandaged up. He didn't want Chuuya to do his neck, insisting it was fine for it to be exposed for now.
That caught Chuuya off guard. He almost always wanted his neck covered.
Dazai stretched and leaned back into the couch, "I know you wanted me to come here, Chuuya." He tilted his head at the ginger with a sly grin.
"You're too cocky for your own good," Chuuya resisted the urge to lean against Dazai. He wanted to feel the warmth of Dazai's chest as he lay his lead gently there. Chuuya craved to hear the sound of his steady heartbeat pounding in his ear.
"I can feel your longing, " The brunette shifted a hand to stroke Chuuya's cheek, "It's adorable."
Chuuya gripped his wrist, "Don't." As much as he craved it, he wouldn't let Dazai initiate intimacy after what he'd done.
"Hm?" Dazai had an expression of confusion, "Why?"
The ginger scoffed and released his wrist, "Really? You think after four years I'm just going to let you touch up on me again? You left me, what makes me so sure you won't do it again?" He scowled at Dazai.
"I had to leave Chuuya, I made a promise to Odasaku," Dazai lowered his hand, resting it in his lap.
Chuuya gripped his thighs, "Did it ever occur to you that I would have been willing to abandon everything to go with you? I searched for years, Osamu. I tried everything to find you. Why didn't you take me with you?" He was angry and upset. These questions he'd wanted answered for years.
Dazai shook his head, "Now Chu Chu you know I couldn't do that." He was right. Chuuya knew why but it didn't stop him from being upset about it.
The mafia - Mori - would have hunted the two of them down even more than they did when just Dazai was gone. Chuuya was one of, if not their most valuable weapon. Losing him would be a significant loss to the Port Mafia.
"Could've at least given me a proper goodbye instead of BLOWING UP MY CAR," Chuuya raised his voice as the anger rose in his throat. He was shaking now.
Dazai shifted, "Chuuya…I'm sorry. Do you really think that I wanted to leave you?"
The words came out before the ginger could think, "Yes."
"You're wrong," Dazai said immediately after, "You're so very wrong Chuuya. I wanted to take you with me. I wanted to say goodbye. It hurt me just as much as it hurt you to leave. " He gripped Chuuya's chin and forced him to look at him, "Hate me all you want to but don't lie about how I felt."
"How do you feel now?" Chuuya whispered.
Dazai loosened his grip, "Like I want to do everything I can to make it up for you because despite all this time I still…" He paused, voice going quieter with the last words.
"Say it," The ginger demanded, "Please say it."
His old partner stood up, releasing Chuuya's chin and walking to the door. He couldn't say it.
"Osamu don't you dare walk out of that door," Chuuya warned, "Leave me again and you're fucking dead to me!" It was a lie. Both him and Dazai knew that. He'd chase after Dazai until the end of time.
Chuuya grabbed his arm, "Osamu, I love you more than anything please don't leave me again." He squeezed Dazai's arm tightly, refusing to loosen his grip.
Dazai froze. He wasn't expecting Chuuya to say it.
"What?" He turned to face Chuuya.
Chuuya pulled him closer, "Leave and I kill you."
The brunette smiled, "You said it."
"Eh?"
Oh.
Oh no.
He said that out loud.
Chuuya tensed, releasing Dazai from his grip and swallowing dryly. He'd admitted it, the panicked rage he'd been sent into clouded his mind causing him to slip up. He never does that.
"Do you mean it?" Dazai prompted, stepping closer.
No answer.
"Tell me."
"Yes."
And so Dazai stayed.