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They say the only time a man receives flowers are at his funeral.
Chuuya happened to overhear this phrase on his way home from work. More often than not, he liked to take a stroll through the park near his penthouse before actually going home. He did the same today, and just happened to pass by a pair of women who were talking about romance and flowers and such.
Chuuya was near the women for a mere few seconds, but the sentence he just heard tugged at his heartstrings for some reason. That couldn't possibly be true, could it? A man receiving flowers only at his funeral?
It was common for women to be on the receiving end of flower bouquets. Be it on Valentine's Day, or on birthdays and anniversaries, it was always the women who got the flowers, more often than not. It was also assumed that all women liked flowers, and would be happy to accept them even on a day without any particular occasion. Chuuya didn't really have any experience with women, so he couldn't really ascertain that fact himself.
Not that it was too important anyway.
The point was, apparently men never received any flowers from their lovers?! Was that really true? Now that Chuuya thought about it, he has personally never been offered flowers of any sort. Well, to be fair, it's not like people confessed to him or anything. They were probably too scared to, considering he was a Port Mafia Executive and all.
As far as his romantic relationships go, he has been with the same damned person for seven years now. And that person was just a useless, stupid idiot anyway. Receiving flowers from that guy? Yeah no, Chuuya would rather expect to be able to tolerate his annoying, shitty partner.
So, Chuuya has never received any flowers. But that was fine, considering he didn't care too much about those plant thingies. What's more important is, Chuuya has been in a relationship with a man for seven years of his life, and he was ashamed to actually admit that he had never even thought to get flowers for that guy.
To be fair, his partner never showed much interest in anything. There were certain specific exceptions, however; crab, bandages and suicide methods to be listed as a few of them. Other than that, he was also very insistent in showing his annoying interest in Chuuya himself. Which, in hindsight, he couldn't really complain about, considering he married the same guy anyway.
That said, Dazai probably didn't care much for flowers either, but it didn't hurt to try, right? As he walked out of the park, Chuuya decided that he would definitely buy flowers for his partner today. A cute bouquet, with a bunch of pretty flowers. Really, for some reason, as Chuuya made his way to the nearest flower shop, he couldn't help but feel like a high school boy; buying flowers for his first crush and everything.
Other than the age, not that the metaphor was too far off or anything. Chuuya might not be in high school, but his conscious existence wasn't too long. Moreover, considering he hasn't really experienced a high-school, so he didn't have any personal anecdotes to go by; but school anime worked well enough as reference, so it was fun.
Besides, it wasn't false at all, to say that Dazai was his 'first crush'. That asshole was the first and only person Chuuya ever had the misfortune for having feelings for. It was really very annoying. After all, who would willingly choose to be in love with a useless bastard like Dazai?! It didn't make sense at all.
But well, Chuuya has stopped questioning his seriously, very questionable decisions a long time ago.
Presently, he walked into a flower shop, the chimes on the door chiming as the door shut behind me. He was hit by the intense fragrance of flowers instantly; all the different perfumes mingling together, diffusing into each other to give a more musky sort of aroma.
Chuuya was greeted by only worker at the shop immediately, the woman presumably being the owner. Her name tag read 'Nara', and she genuinely seemed happy to welcome Chuuya into her store, and then explain all the meanings behind her various flowers.
It didn't take the mafioso very long to select a cute little flower arrangement. Instead of a bouquet, he got his flowers in a wicker basket; one with a little handle and everything too. The woman at the shop was quick to arrange the flowers, and then ring up the total for him to pay.
Within minutes, Chuuya was done with the whole process and on his way home, a literal flower basket hanging off his hands.
When he finally got home, just as expected, his husband was right there in the living room, kicking his legs against the couch as he played on his phone. Of course, actually going to work and doing his fucking job on a weekday would be too much to ask, since it's obviously 'above' him and his tastes.
Scoffing at such ridiculous behaviour, Chuuya put away his shoes and shed his coat before actually making his way over to the brunet who was so shamelessly occupying his couch. Grabbing a pillow, which was further used to smack the other in the face, Chuuya grinned,
"I'm home, bastard."
Dazai whined almost immediately, nudging aside the pillow which had just been shoved into his face so rudely, "Ow! Are you trying to suffocate and kill me, Chuuya?! That's no way to treat your beloved husband who loves you so much!"
Chuuya merely snorted, staring down his partner.
The other relented soon enough, "Welcome home, Slug~"
Chuuya laughed, "Hey. See, I would love to kill you, but ah, what was that you always say? Yes, I'm too busy breathing."
"I don't see how that's supposed to be a witty retort. Are you sure you really want to kill me, Chuuya?" Dazai huffed quietly.
The mafioso kicked at his partner's legs lightly, "Of course not, idiot. Don't be so stupid. Anyway, I got you something."
Dazai stilled immediately, his eyes finding the other's in curiosity, tinted with pats of wariness and mild enthusiasm. A few seconds later, he finally gave in and asked, "And what would that be?'
His hands having retrieved his item of interest, Chuuya plopped down the basket of flowers onto his partner's lap, before taking a seat next to him. Poking a white rose sticking out from the bouquet, he declared, "Flowers."
For a minute there, Dazai said nothing. Even so, his exploring hands ran against the circumference of the basket, before his nimble fingers finding themselves brushing against the flower petals. He even went as far as to bend low to bury his nose into the flowers and take a whiff of their fragrance.
Finally straightening his back, he turned to look at the mafioso, his eyes imploring, "You got me flowers?"
Chuuya leaned against the couch comfortably before shrugging, "Yeah, that's it. I was at the park, right? And I heard some people talking about it, and I realised I've never gotten you flowers. So there you go."
Dazai noted, "It's in a basket. Rather than a cellophane-wrapped bouquet."
Chuuya leaned to peek at the flowers. Then, with a grin, "Isn't this cuter? The basket has a ribbon and everything too."
Out of all the expected reactions Dazai could give, he chose to go with something Chuuya didn't see very often. His face suddenly flushed red, that idiot actually reached up his hands so he could bury his face in them, as if shielding himself from showing something unnecessary.
Chuuya burst out laughing almost immediately. After all, a flustered Dazai was truly one of the rarest, right?
Wrapping an arm around the other, he grinned, "What? What is it?"
Dazai sighed softly, as if still reeling from unforeseen recent events, "You got me flowers. No matter how you see it, Slug; someone like me is undeserving of such normal things like flowers."
Wait. Huh?
With that, Chuuya's grin dropped all too suddenly, his brain processing the exact behind those words. He nudged his partner, "Oi. Don't be more idiotic than usual. Everyone deserves flowers, okay? There's no deeper meaning behind it. They are just pretty."
Dazai huffed a little too quietly, "Well, yes. They're beautiful, right? Is it really okay for me to have beautiful things?"
Chuuya snorted, "Well, I'm a beautiful thing, don't you agree? And you have me, right?"
Dazai laughed at once, "But Chuuya is not a thing."
The mafioso shrugged, "Might as well be."
This attracted a frown from the other, "Chuuya, no."
Chuuya rolled his eyes, his hand gently wrapping around a bandaged arm as he spoke, "I know. There's no deeper meaning behind everything, you know? That's my point."
For a few seconds, there were no reactions from Dazai. Then, he settled for a simple nod, "I see. In that case, thank you for the flowers, Chuuya~"
Because Chuuya was one of those annoying people in love, he reached his hand up to rest it atop fluffy, brown hair. He then snorted, "You're welcome. As long as you like them or whatever."
Next to him, Dazai chuckled, "I do. They're cute."
Finally standing up from the couch, Chuuya clapped his hands together, "Alright then! I'll be off to make dinner. Come sit in the kitchen with me, idiot."
He didn't have to persuade the other into doing anything. Dazai followed him into the kitchen and took a seat of his own accord. Whilst fetching his pots and pans, Chuuya couldn't help but notice that Dazai put the basket in the middle of the dining table. More surprisingly, Dazai actually smiled at the flowers before turning around and taking a seat in the kitchen.
For some weird reason, Chuuya's heart decided to funny things at the sight of such an expected scene. It appeared that Dazai wasn't opposed to receiving flowers at all. It was a good thing, because Chuuya realised that he, himself wasn't opposed to buying flowers at all.
They did say that a man only received flowers at his funeral.
But well, Chuuya decided that finally killing that shitty Dazai and then hosting a funeral for him?! No way, that was too much effort. Chuuya was just better off visiting the flower shop every once in a while, buying flowers for a very much alive and happy Dazai, damn it.
After all, shitty mackerels were truly the best when sparkling, and overflowing with vitality.
-
Omake
Thinking back on the phrase he overheard at the park, Chuuya couldn't help but think of men and funerals and such. And because he was unfortunate enough to have his life overwhelmed by a single man, his brain decided to very rudely conjure up an image of that very person's funeral.
Needless to say, such a disturbing image startled Chuuya immensely. His terror stark and uncontrollable, he couldn't help but...
No. That won't do at all.
Of course, minutes after than, Chuuya hunted down Dazai, insisting that he give him a seriously long hug. And he wasn't messing around, because he then received feedback that Dazai felt very squeezed during the said hug. But that was okay, because Chuuya just squeezed him some more.
Dazai laughed weakly as he rubbed his partner's back, the two of them still engaged in a hug, "What's going on, Chuuya?"
The mafioso finally pulled back, eyes meeting the other's before he firmly demanded, "Don't die on me."
A couple of blinks from his partner, "Huh?"
Chuuya repeated, his voice suddenly firmer, with a tinge of desperation to it, "Don't die on me!"
For a few seconds, Dazai just regarded him. Then, he finally raised a hand to pat the other's head, "I won't. It's a promise, silly chibi."
Finally getting into bed, clearly satisfied now, Chuuya huffed, "Good. Don't forget it."
Dazai rolled his eyes, but his voice was as serious as possible when he spoke, "I won't."
"Alright. Good night, then."
"Goodnight, Chuuya~"
And well, if there were whispered declarations of love after the mafioso was asleep; that was just Dazai's business.