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The door to the Armed detective agency opened with a bang, jotling the poor Kenji from his sleep. Immediately Kunikida pulled out his gun, aiming it between the unexpected guests' eyes. Atsushi looked ready to pounce over his desk, arms glowing a faint blue, ready to be transformed any second.
Kyouka was surprisingly not bothered by the new presence, only staring with wide eyed wonder. Dazai continued humming his suicide song while scribbling down a chibified version of Kunikida yelling on said blonde's paperwork.
The intruder didn't bat an eyelash, lazure eyes immediately zeroing on Dazai. He held a medium sized bag, although it seemed obvious to be holding another bag inside, as if a barrier protecting strangers from toxins or something.
Fixing his hat, Nakahara Chuuya walked towards Dazai, ignoring Kunikida's warning, and Atsushi's now transformed paws starting to reach for his mentor.
"I've brought you a gift, Fish."
Dazai glanced up at him, his entire being screaming disinterest and boredom. He then proceeded to straighten his back and look around the room, false-confusion taking charge on his face.
"Eh? Did somebody speak?" He blinked owlishly before squinting at Chuuya.
"Ah. It's the slug." Immediately, disgust washed over his facial expression, his nose turned up and a frown danced on his slightly chapped lips.
Chuuya merely snorted, before unceremoniously dumping the bag on Dazai's messy desk. He crossed his arms, eyes half-lidded
"I believe I've won." He muttered with a smirk.
For a moment genuine confusion flashed through Dazai's mask, but it was gone the moment his current partner, Kunikida, Shot three times at Chuuya, apparently done with whatever theatrics soukoku was pulling off.
Obviously, none of the bullets made it far, all dropping harmlessly to the ground faster than they were shot. Chuuya's bored gaze slid to Kunikida, whom now had to cover up a shiver. Something about that gaze felt unnaturally terrifying.
"I am asking again. Why is a Port Mafia Executive here?"
Chuuya's expression seemed to lighten, eyes closed, smile full on display. To civilians, he would look warm, welcoming. Like a grandpa beconing his grandchildren to hug him for candy. In reality, it was anything but. It felt like all of a sudden, they were the prey, and he, in his bloody glory, was ready to pounce.
"There is a truce between our organisations right now. If you shoot once more, I will no longer tolerate it, and treat it as your agency breaking this agreement of peace. Capiche?"
Kunikida looked confused for a moment, before his eyes widened, a slight pink haze gathering on his cheeks. He quickly put his gun away, posture stiffly straight as he fixed his glasses.
"My apologies."
The tiger kid seemed equally embarrassed, ability pulled back, his head pathetically laying in his hands. To a civilian, it would look as if he cut himself from the world in his embarrassment. Chuuya knew better. The kids ears were slightly upright, possibly influenced by his ability to pick up on anything suspicious.
Chuuya turned his gaze back to Dazai, cocking an eyebrow at the cautious expression.
"What? 'm not gonna bite." He rolled his eyes, setting one of his hands on his hip, the other reaching into his pocket to take out a cigarette.
"Woof." Dazai mumbled half heartedly, his eyes sliding back to the bag.
"It's the proof of my victory" Chuuya flashed a grin, although some would compare it to a dog baring its teeth.
Dazai's eyes narrowed.
"I do not recall throwing a bone for Chuuhuahua to catch."
Chuuya snorted again, putting the cigarette into his mouth.
"Stop dawdlin' around, social misfit. Ya won't find out how badly you've lost playin' games." That earned him a scoff.
Grumbling, Dazai opened the second bag, and then-
And then his face went blank.
Kunikida looked suspicious again, hand hovering over his phone. Atsushi looked concerned more than anything, and Kyouka... Kyouka was listening to some pop-star on Dazai's headphones. Kenji was back to snoring innocently, not a care in the world.
"Dazai-san..? Is.. Everything alright?"
It was a second. In that brief second, Dazai looked furious. It was as if red replaced the honey-brown of his eyes, narrow slits glaring at Chuuya full force.
The next second, his face was carefully blank as he closed the bag, refusing to let anyone else see its contents.
"Chuuya, Pray tell, What the fuck is this?"
The silence was near deafening. Or, at least, it was until Chuuya lit his cigarette, the smug grin of his not wavering a bit.
"What a rude reaction to someone giving you head." Kunikida's eyes went comically wide, and Atsushi looked ready to combust on the spot.
"This is a literal fucking head Chuuya. This is the head of Mori fucking Ougai. What the hell did you do?" Immediately, everyone in the room seemed to pale. Even Kenji, who's too deep asleep to be aware of anything, and Kyouka, whose listening to her pop-songs so loud you can hear it from ten feet away.
Chuuya observed Dazai, cataloguing every change in his expression and body language, before humming dismissively.
"I am here to deliver a message from the Boss of Port Mafia." He turned towards Kunikida.
"He wishes to speak with the President of the Armed Detective Agency, regarding this little truce issue."
Kunikida blinked, before grabbing his notebook and writing something down. He looked at Chuuya not long after, question loud despite being unspoken.
"Randou-san's house. It is a neutral ground. At 3pm. Do not come late." With that, he turned to the door, ignoring the confused spluttering of Kunikida.
The last thing he heard was Kunikida swearing loudly before exclaiming "Where even is that?"
----
Leg over leg, the mafia boss sipped his tea. A pleased hum vibrated through him as his taste-buds were taken hostage into what was possibly heaven in it's purest form. He closed his eyes in delight, a smile rising onto his features.
"Ane-san, your tea is as ethereal as ever."
The woman next to him shut her fan, and placed it gently on the table between them. Her smile was warm, albeit too sharp around the edges to be genuine.
"Thank you, Boss."
A groan rippled from the throat of the man next to her, his posture slumping against the back of his chair.
"Ane-san!" He whined, Although he refrained from continuing, knowing his companion would take it as a go for her to needle the reasoning between his recent choices out of him.
Her eyes sharpened, coming to the same conclusion as him. She looked away and towards the figure approaching.
"Say, I don't quite recall this taste. Is it one of your new imports from Europe?"
Kouyou dipped her head slightly, a pleased hum making it out.
"It is indeed. It's been delivered only yesterday, due to the unfortunate weather."
"I see."
The man, now standing in front of them, coughed slightly, asking for their attention.
Chuuya looked at the Agency's president , Fukuzawa Yukichi. He tilted his head, a pleasant smile on his face.
"I believe you wanted to see me?" The elder man asked, his left eyebrow rising a centimetre.
"Indeed I have. Please, have a seat." Chuuya gestured to the extra chair, a cup of tea already setting itself in front of his guest.
----
Chuuya sighed, full of deep-aches (but not regret.), as he heard his door lock get picked. He'll have to replace it again. Preferably move into a different apartment actually.
His door was slammed violently, and he mourned his smooth walls, before downing the contents of his wine glass, and pouring himself another.
Dazai's footsteps resounded in the room, quick while at the same time heavy, indicating his displeasure. Chuuya ignored him in favor of his wine.
The man stopped sharply behind him, breathing ragged as if he ran all the way here. He likely had, although for different reasons than expected.
"What the fuck."
Chuuya hummed, not sparing him a glance as he swirled the red liquid in his glass around, captivated by the beauty of it. It looked so similar to blood, so close to that beautiful shade of despair that he couldn't help but narrow his eyes in delight.
"Chuuya." He looked at him from the corner of his eyes, and Dazai seemed to understand his disinterest as a sound cross between anger and confusion tore out of his throat
"Why did you kill Mori?"
Chuuya looked at him from the corner of his eyes, licking his lips. He had to admit, Dazai looked beautiful like this. Angered and confused, acting on his emotions, acting so painfully human.
"It was long overdue." He offered, aware of what his response will likely cause.
As expected, Dazai tore the glass out of his reach, some of the liquid spilling out. Chuuya glared at him. That was some expensive vintage wine he was wasting right now. The brunettee pushed him against the counter, towering over him, a scowl so deeply and unnaturally embedded into his face Chuuya sort of, kind of, wanted to trace it with his fingers.
If he wanted to, he could easily throw Dazai off of him, break a few of his bones while he's at that as payback for his walls and wine, and then thrown him out. But, Dazai expressing his emotions, emotions that aren't positive or altered to his advantage, is rare. Too rare for Chuuya's liking. Plus he looked hot as hell like this.
"What is your goal?" Dazai hissed out, shoving his own face right before Chuuya's, breaths mingling together. It was more of a 'They're about to kiss' close rather than 'He's trying to intimidate him' close.
Chuuya smirked.
"I don't know. What is it?"
Dazai groaned again, before shoving his lips against Chuuya's.
The kiss was by no means perfect. It was aggressive, pent up feelings ans regret and fault and everything they kept hidden under lock and key bleeding into it. There's more teeth in it than there should be, and their lips will definitely be bruised, and yet it's so- so perfect. It feels so right.
After a few moments, Chuuya shoved Dazai's face away, ignoring the childish whine that emerged from Dazai. The brunette's breathing was ragged, his lungs felt like they were on fire, and he was over-sensitive, aware of everything that was currently touching him, like Chuuya's hand on his cheek, Chuuya's hand holding his neck, Chuuya's leg pressing at his stomach to keep him away-
Chuuya smiled victoriously as he searched Dazai's face for whatever detail he was missing. He closed his eyes, burying his hand in the soft tufts of hair.
"We made a bet after I joined the Mafia." He paused, opening his eyes to watch Dazai's features. Dazai… didn't seem to remember it. It was understandable though, and expectable if Chuuya's nonplussed reaction was anything to go by.
"We betted on who'd kill Mori first." Chuuya continued lowly, his hand sorting through the brunette's hair.
His eyes were half-lidded as he locked his gaze with Dazai's pair of blood stricken ones.
He pulled Dazai down, tugging at his hair violently, positioning his ear besides his mouth. He exhaled softly and Dazai couldn't help but shiver.
"The winner is to own the loser forever." He muttered, as if he was reciting words from pages of a book, before biting Dazai's ear. Harsh enough to bleed. Licking away the small trickles of blood, he let out a puff of air that came dangerously close to sounding like laughter.
It was only fair, he mused. Dazai always brags about Chuuya being his dog- It's about time Chuuya brags about Dazai being his and his alone, is it not?