Work Text:
Atsushi and Akutagawa have been together for a while now. At first, the mafioso and the man-tiger had only worked together because Dazai forced them to, but their mentor was good at what he was doing. Too good even, considering the number of times they had found themselves kissing each other, lips interlocking without a second thought.
It was a bit frustrating to admit that they needed Dazai's help to realise their mutual attraction, especially for Ryuunosuke. He'd always wanted to earn Dazai's approval, so the way he only looked after the Jinko kind of got on his nerves. Dazai always saw further than the others, and Ryuunosuke admired that about him, but in this case… he couldn't help but feel wronged.
That was all in the past now, their relationship had somewhat settled down. Ryuunosuke had gotten used to the situation, and his mentor's sneering hardly bothered him anymore.
Most of the time, at least.
However, that was the least of his worries at the moment. He had a bigger problem on his mind – an unexplained and unexplainable one. Akutagawa didn't really understand what had happened, but the result was right in front of him: A scratched-up sofa, a chewed-up covering, and an Atsushi, growling and trying to get the last pieces of leather out of his mouth. For fuck's sake. When his boyfriend finally agreed to let go of the leather, Akutagawa stood above him with his hands on his hips and a deadly expression, barely stopping himself from accidentally summoning Rashomon.
“Care to explain what was going through your head, Jinko? Have you gone mad?”
Because he knew he will, soon. Mad with rage. Atsushi was looking at him guiltily, hands behind his back and brows pinched together slightly. He usually doesn't let himself be pushed around, but this time, he had no choice but concede that he had made a mistake.
“I, uh… lost control, I think.”
“You 'think'?” Akutagawa raised his voice. “Are you kidding me?”
The white-haired boy stuttered out a choked “No.” He knew that Akutagawa was angry and had every right to be. That sofa hadn't been exactly cheap. Atsushi sighed.
“I couldn't control my instincts, but I don't know what happened any more than you, Ryuu. Stop yelling at me.”
“Have you seen the state our sofa is in?!”
“I'll buy a new one if that's the problem.”
“You think you can afford one with your measly detective salary? It's real leather. Of highest quality.”
“At least my salary is legal.”
“Legality is for the weak.”
Atsushi huffed and Akutagawa crossed his arms, fists clenched. The two young men often argued like this, only to end up making love in their bedroom with equal fervour. No one else could argue like they did. However, this time, it was slowly beginning to turn into a honest-to-god argument. Before Akutagawa could start yelling again, his boyfriend rubbed the back of his head.
“Look, I'm sorry for ruining the sofa. Really. But I couldn't contain myself, it was as if the tiger in me… needed to do it.”
“You still can't control him, can you.”
That definitely wasn't a question. Atsushi bit his lip, hurt.
“I can, but… he's getting stronger. It caught me off guard.”
“We'll have to do something about it. I don't want to see our furniture in pieces.”
“And you think I do?” Atsushi asked, irritated.
Akutagawa sighed.
“No,” he agreed, “but imagine coming back home and finding our apartment in this state… It wasn't very pleasant.”
At that, Atsushi gave in. This truly was something to be angry about. Now that he's come to his senses, he was disgusted by the state of the formerly comfortable sofa too. His inner tiger was still purring at the idea of taking a nap there. He regarded the ripped-up seat, the torn-off armrest, and the chewed-up shreds of leather on the floor, and grit his teeth. He couldn't really blame Ryuunosuke for yelling.
“The good thing is,” he tried, “that we can use the stuffing to make a campfire.”
His boyfriend's face told him that he didn't find it funny. Atsushi laughed nervously and began picking up the leather. The cleaning is going to be hard, especially since he still felt like continuing the scratching… With his tail between his legs, he helped his lover clean everything up. He'll have to buy a scratching post, because otherwise the furniture, as well as his life, would be in great danger.
Akutagawa glared at the wooden floor, covered in suspicious scratches, and the living room carpet, also badly damaged and with threads sticking out of it all over the place, and let out a “Fuck this shit.”
—
Atsushi had no idea what came over him, but was getting worse alarmingly fast. Even Dazai noticed it. He felt the urge to meow night and day, which led to even more strange actions. Going out in the middle of the night to meow at the moon, growling at stray cats and running in circles through the alleys of Yokohama like a madman for two hours. He behaved like a cat. A very big cat, or, well, a tiger, he supposed. And he was afraid, afraid that the tiger would get the better of him.
“You need to learn how to tame him, Atsushi,” his mentor said. “You're getting better at using him to fight, but that's not enough.”
Easier said than done. He was trying. He was doing his best. But that didn't stop him from slipping up again. This time, his lover's clothes were the victim. His coat, an important part of his mafia outfit, has been torn into shreds. He is going to be furious. Atsushi sat at his desk at the detective agency, banging his head against the keyboard so hard that there were imprints of the keys on his forehead. He clutched his head and whimpered. What can he even say to Akutagawa? He's going to kill him. That didn't scare him, he knew how to defend himself, but shit… it was bound to get ugly, especially since things haven't been very smooth between them recently. And personally, he wasn't in the mood to deal with that tonight.
Crossing his legs, he thought about everything, irritated by all of this nonsense. Why can't he control the tiger? Why does it keep getting stronger? And, above all, why was the animal inside of him so interested in other's — his lover's — furniture and clothing? How long will this continue? It was giving him too much trouble. Dazai and Kunikida exchanged looks when they saw him beating himself up, as did everyone else in the office. And on top of that, it was making him look like an idiot. Kyouka chose that moment to place a gentle hand on his head and pet him. Without realising it, Atsushi began to purr. Everyone was surprised, but it was Atsushi who was shocked the most. He tensed up, teeth clenched and eyes wide.
“You're like a cat,” the girl observed with her usual calmness.
Dazai laughed, amused.
“Yes, that's it! Atsushi, you're turning into a tiger. Literally.”
The weretiger frowned.
“Are you saying that…”
“The tiger's soul is merging with your human one,” the detective continued nonchalantly. “It's possible that this is normal.”
Normal? His confusion must've been obvious. Dazai swiveled in his chair, turning to him with one hand resting on his desk.
“The tiger doesn't exist just to help you fight, Atsushi, it's a part of you. It's time you learned to control it completely and deal with its instincts. Otherwise, it will continue to wreak havoc,” he explained. “I hear he made a mess of your apartment…”
He chuckled and Atsushi tensed. How did Dazai-san know about what his inner cat has done…? Did Ryuunosuke tell him? It was hard to believe he'd actually go to his former mentor for advice. It made sense though, they were Double Black, and if they wanted to continue being a team… they had to talk about their problems. But Atsushi didn't see the need to drag Dazai into their sensitive relationship problems as well. He wasn't sure if it's good or bad for him to know about everything that happens within the walls of their apartment.
“Did he tell you…?” he asked, somewhat disconcerted.
Dazai nodded.
“He's worried about you. He's afraid that there could be a hidden issue with your tiger and your powers.”
“I can take care of myself,” Atsushi grumbled, this hurt his pride a little.
Dazai got up with a sigh and patted his head. Atsushi pouted. His reaction, however childish, was understandable. Sure, the tiger was doing some damage, but… that was mostly just his problem. He'd like to see what would Ryuu do if Rashomon started acting up. Suffering the throes of this oddness on a daily basis wasn't so easy. To be honest, Atsushi hated it whenever he lost control… when he became something else.
After having a long discussion about the weretiger's powers and how they have to be extremely careful to avoid other outbursts that could be either less or even more… bizarre and dramatic than the last, the detectives returned back to work. Paws itching in exasperation, Atsushi was already dreading his return home.
—
“Fucking hell!” shouted the sweet voice of his beloved when Atsushi came home with his head hung low and his teeth gritted. “Tell me that this isn't what I think it is!”
Atsushi swallowed his pride and faced Akutagawa, whose face was twisted with rage and fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He was looking at him while clutching his latest victims, namely his coat and the kitchen wallpaper, in his hands. He had gone out with his sister, leaving his coat behind in favour of a more inconspicuous, civilian outfit, and this is how it ended up: nothing but a torn rag. One hand at the back of his neck, his head tilted, Atsushi stammered with some remnants of poise:
“I lost control… again.”
It was the least he could say. And, as much as he hoped for the opposite, what had to happen happened, just as he predicted. Akutagawa yelled so loudly that it would burst the eardrums of a deaf person, his expression so murderous it would haunt a blind person in their worst nightmares. Atsushi was neither, so he had no choice but to bear it until Akutagawa calmed down.
Every now and then, Atsushi would try to argue, only causing the conversation to pick up in volume. They ended up glaring at each other viciously, yelling the other's name so loudly that the walls shook. Atsushi had no intention of backing down, and when he told Akutagawa to stop shouting, the mafioso retorted that he's no better, which just made him angrier. The argument would've continued if Atsushi, in an attempt to grab his lover's arm to calm him down and take the lead in the conversation in the process, hadn't masterfully slipped on the carpet and fallen face-first on the floor.
Despite their rightful anger, both of them burst out laughing, with Atsushi's ego crying in embarassment in the background. With Akutagawa's help, he stood up, and they sat together on the sofa that had already been replaced. Atsushi sighed. Akutagawa stayed rarely quiet, waiting for him to speak.
“Dazai-san said that it's normal, that my tiger side is a part of me. I just… need to learn to control it.”
“And how are you going to do that?” Akutagawa exhaled, sinking into his seat. He didn't look angry anymore, just attentive, which prompted Atsushi to relax as well. If Ryuunosuke was making an effort to calm down, then so could he. He shrugged, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear.
“I don't really know. Dazai-san said to try listening to myself more and do breathing exercises. I also noticed that whistling of the wind calmed my tiger down.”
“Whistling?”
It was winter, so the wind was blowing often. Its cry was a long, continuous tone rising to a crescendo. Atsushi liked listening to the wind, he always has. He blushed a little under his boyfriend's wary look.
“I don't know, it just… helps me relax.”
“I see,” Akutagawa smiles briefly. “Now I know what to do when you get so angry you'll start clawing at the carpet.”
“Oi!” Atsushi exclaimed. “That only happened once!”
In response, Akutagawa whistled, which only enraged Atsushi more. They started arguing again before laughing it off and going to the kitchen to make dinner. Atsushi had been very surprised when he'd found out that Ryuunosuke was very good at cooking. His delicious meals were one of the things — because yes, there were several — that he loved about him. As Ryuunosuke prepared their dinner, cutting up raw fish and then frying it in a pan, he began to whistle again. This time, the sound wasn't aggressive and mocking anymore. It was a gentle melody that relaxed Atsushi. Soon, the meal was ready.
As for the mafioso, he was still sulking over the remains of his coat and the expensive couch, but he was beginning to come to terms with it. Atsushi was meowing and becoming more and more cat-like, clawing at everything. It was like living with a large, human cat. Akutagawa did his best to keep the damage minimal, with the patience of a saint. The whistling was his secret weapon, he tried to use it as often as possible, especially when he saw that Atsushi was up to something stupid. He had also made a habit of not leaving anything important lying around, in order to keep it out of Atsushi's claws.
And when Atsushi laid down next to him and began to purr, Akutagawa had to admit that as annoying as it was, it wasn't that bad.
The end.