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Dazai never cared about attending any of the social events that the agency would hold.
Whether it was a Christmas party, someone’s birthday, a celebration after closing a difficult case—the agency would have a party and Dazai’s absence was always felt.
A spot for him at those parties was always reserved—but he never filled it.
It never fazed Kunikida or Ranpo as much—but Kenji and Atsushi had hope, even if it was just a little.
And eventually—nearly everyone from the ADA stopped anticipating for Dazai to suddenly arrive and be there.
But then—
But then he started seeing Yosano.
After the tentative hook-ups, after the many talks they had, and after they both realized they wanted something more than just what they were doing before—they became sort of a…couple, if that’s what you want to call it.
Neither of them officially asked the other out—it just…happened.
The nights spent under the sheets started to hold more meaning for both of them.
They would find themselves waking up the next morning with the other still holding onto them instead of sneaking off.
Dazai started to show more affection in public with the delicate pecks on her forehead and hand. Yosano would find herself sneaking in a quick press of her lips against his in front of everyone they worked with.
They both slowly realized that they found more than just pleasure with the other around them and—
Needless to say—the entire agency soon found out about their colleagues’ relationship.
They didn’t care as much—as long as the two of them weren’t gross in front of everyone else, it wasn’t their place to say anything about it.
And because of that—something changed.
Because the next time the agency held a party—
“Dazai-san?”
Heads would turn towards the direction Atsushi is staring at, and eyes would widen with shock when they all see Dazai—just standing there with a small, almost awkward, curl on his lips—with Yosano by his side.
Ever since he and Yosano got more involved—he found himself tagging along to these parties.
She never forces him to go with her—but he finds himself getting ready to go anyway.
Her presence near him at these events makes socializing a lot less daunting, and he doesn’t dread it as much as he used to.
Because at work—it’s different. He doesn't have to make conversation with anyone. The conversation is already there for him—work, cases, Yokohama. He doesn’t need to put much effort into what he needs to say.
But at a party? Dazai could never uphold a decent conversation if it wasn’t for a job.
It required too much energy and he’s just…not up for it.
But—having Yosano there helps.
He has someone he doesn’t need to force himself to talk to, the conversation always flows—or sometimes there’s nothing to talk about, and it's just silence, but even that is comforting.
Which is what happened tonight—a celebration after the successful completion of a rather difficult mission the ADA, and surprisingly the Port Mafia, was involved in.
It was an event that Atsushi insisted on putting together—one that Fukuzawa didn’t mind as long as nothing was getting destroyed in the process.
And it wasn’t that bad. Dazai did talk to other people besides Yosano while he was there—he’s gotten a lot better at it ever since he started to show up more often.
And things were going pretty well if you asked him.
…That is until he noticed Yosano might have indulged in a little more wine than usual tonight, resulting in her nearly scaring the shit out of Atsushi with her sharp grin, mentioning how fun it would be if she took her large cleaver for a spin and—
Yeah.
It was probably time for them to leave at that point.
Which is how they ended up here—
“Shit—” Yosano yelps when she almost trips over her own feet, causing Dazai to rely on his stupidly fast reflexes to grab onto her to make sure she doesn’t fall flat on her face.
“Let me take your shoes off first before you try going anywhere else,” Dazai tries to get her to stand on her own, but it serves as a somewhat of a difficult task when she’s swaying and giggling for reasons he doesn’t know what.
—They find themselves stumbling back into Yosano’s apartment—with Dazai trying to help her take off her shoes while she barely succeeds in balancing her body against the wall for support.
Yosano wrinkles her nose, her words coming out as a sluggish slur. “Where’s my phone?”
“In my pocket,” Dazai murmurs, his focus a little more preoccupied with undoing the strap of her black heels that are snug around her ankle, silently cursing at whoever the hell designed these to be so complicated.
Yosano hums, pulling on Dazai’s jacket that she’s wearing to cover more of her body—she looks a lot smaller in it with the ends of the sleeves surpassing her hands.
“Did you say goodbye to everyone before we left?” Yosano asks, frowning as she watches Dazai struggle with taking off her other heel.
She’s beginning to feel slightly nauseous.
“If you count giving everyone a quick wave before we left so you wouldn’t try chopping Atsushi’s leg off—then yes,” Dazai answers with a little sigh, “I did.”
“I wasn’t actually going to cut his legs off,” Yosano rolls her eyes, letting out a small tch, “he knows that,” she exclaims as a matter of factly, and all Dazai does is tilt his head up to give her a certain look—
“…” Yosano purses her lips, a defeated breath puffing out of her nose. “…I wouldn’t do that after drinking half a bottle of wine—”
“You finished the entire bottle on your own,” Dazai interrupts and Yosano gasps, looking like he just offended her.
“I did not—”
“Mm,” Dazai snorts, finally slipping her other heel off her feet, “but you did, darling. Watched you finish it all in one go.”
“Wha—and you didn’t stop me?” She’s making it sound like she let her commit a homicide.
Dazai shrugs, looking at her with rather innocent eyes. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he murmurs with a slight tug at his brows. “I wasn’t going to ruin your fun for you.”
That’s not entirely true.
Dazai has been around Yosano long enough to know not to mess with her when it comes to her and wine.
He would rather deal with the aftermath of her indulgences instead of trying to fight her (because he did quickly learn that he severely underestimated how strong she is) to let go of the damn wine bottle.
Yosano squints her eyes into an accusatory glare for a moment—
And then she lowers her shoulders and lets out a small, tired sigh.
“…Yeah, well,” she crosses her arms and watches him let out a short huff as he begins to stand up from kneeling on the floor, his hands coming to gently hold onto her hips, “It’s unprofessional to handle medical tools while intoxicated, anyway.”
Dazai raises a brow, a fond quirk of his lips as he looks at her—finding it kind of cute at how drastically her height has changed once her heels are off, causing her to need to tilt her head, even more, to look at him.
“Unprofessional, huh?”
“Mhm,” Yosano hums a little slowly. Then, she draws her brows together, and all of a sudden her expression shapes out into something more serious. “I’m not a shitty doctor, you know.”
The smile on Dazai’s mouth merely grows—
That’s something he can never dare to argue with.
He’s had his little fair share of seeing multiple doctors—he’s been through both the good and bad ones.
But Akiko?
Dazai’s left hand rises towards her face, his index finger delicately catching onto a few strands to push it back behind her ear, admiring how that action alone makes her eyelashes flutter—the tips of them sweeping over her cheeks that are flushed red from how much she drank tonight.
“I know you’re not,” Dazai answers, voice a little low.
—He knows she is most certainly the best doctor Yokahama—even all of Japan—will ever have.
Fingers leaving her hair, Dazai moves his hand to rest his index finger under her chin to tilt it up, allowing him to press a small peck against her head, his voice coming out as a mumble, “And I think it’s time for our doctor to try to rest, hm?”
Initially, Yosano juts her dark red painted lips out into a tiny pout. She doesn’t need to rest.
She still has energy. The night isn’t over yet but—
But Dazai’s lips feel so warm against her. Comforting, like falling against something she can safely call home.
His body hugging her makes it so easy for her to just…melt into it, her mind too busy swimming in some wave of bliss to try to protest against him right now.
Getting to their shared bedroom and into the washroom wasn’t so bad—Yosano might be tipsy but she’s still capable of doing basic tasks such as walking…
…For the most part.
“I could have just carried you as I offered before—”
Yosano cuts him off with a small groan as she rests against the wall—she feels dizzy and the wine she drank is not having a fun time in her stomach—and casts a glare towards him. “You are not carrying me.”
It’s not that she doesn’t like it when he does that—it can be nice sometimes—but just…not when she feels like all of her insides are about to expel out of her.
And Dazai puts on a pout—all puppy eyes that Yosano hates that it has some kind of an effect on her—and slouches. “But—”
“If you do that,” Yosano puffs out her cheeks, balancing on her legs to get to the washroom, “then I’ll feel even sicker and I don’t think you would want to deal with that right now.”
Dazai opens his mouth but then immediately closes it right after.
She has a point—one that he acknowledges as he quietly hums and follows right behind her to their bathroom, ensuring she at least doesn’t fall or anything.
“Here,” Dazai reaches out to hand her a small cup of mouthwash for her, and when she pulls her lips down into a frown, Dazai simply reaches with his other hand for one of her hands to unfurl her fingers and places the cup into her palm for her to hold onto. “You will thank me later.”
Because he knows she’s always been adamant about brushing and flossing her teeth before bed but…
When she’s like this? That serves as a little difficult task to accomplish at the moment.
Yosano makes some small sound at the back of her throat as she leans against the edge of the sink, tipping her head back as she gargles the mouthwash, all while Dazai busies himself with opening the drawers under the sink to look for some stuff.
He would like to think that he’s gotten Yosano’s skincare routine down pretty well.
Ever since she found out that he just uses hand soap to wash his face and the same lotion that he normally uses for the rest of his body—
She was appalled, yes, but also very insistent on establishing a small—somewhat manageable—skincare regime for him.
Meaning every night he had to watch Yosano do her routine in the washroom while trying to remember the steps for his.
So now—
He pulls out a dark green bottle that’s supposed to be some cleansing oil—something he remembers is the very first thing she would always use before anything else—and gently hands it to her.
Yosano takes it with a grateful hum. “And the other face wash.”
Right.
There were always two that she used. And he knows she explained it before as to why she has two—but he simply forgot.
So now he just goes with it, searching for the other bottle and handing it to her.
Surprisingly—it doesn’t take that long for her to wash her face.
Dazai would help with making sure her hair isn’t in the way and give her a face towel when needed.
But it went fine. Which is great.
It’s just…
Yosano grunts and swings her arms around his neck, chest pressed against his as she frowns.
It’s getting her to change out of her clothes into something more comfortable, that Dazai finds to be the difficult part because—
She happens to be a rather stubborn person when it comes to that.
“I’m tired,” Yosano mumbles.
“I know you are,” Dazai hums, hands coming around to hold onto her waist, “but you might want to get out of those clothes before you go to sleep.”
That manages to pull a displeased expression shaping her features, and Dazai immediately snorts, pressing a quick peck on her forehead. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”
That—and he knows if he doesn’t make her change now, she’ll complain about it later.
She always hated wearing outside clothes in bed.
The last thing he wants is for her to get mad for something he could’ve prevented.
And it wasn’t so bad getting her to move so she can finally change.
It’s the actual process of changing that takes a lot longer than necessary, though—
“I can do it myself,” Yosano glares at him before she grabs her clean shirt from his hands.
Well.
It’s technically his shirt—but then she kinda just…started wearing it more often and Dazai likes how it looks on her anyway so, now it’s hers.
Dazai simply puts his hands up in defence, a small, affectionate smile ticking up at the corner of his mouth because—
Even if she sounds grumpy now, it’s kinda hard to not find it the least bit endearing because of the rosy blush that’s still blooming on her cheeks and nose.
“I’m just trying to help, dear,” Dazai says with a soft voice, and Yosano tsks while unhooking her bra, her words still coming out as a small slur.
And she does it very slowly.
“I don’t need it,” Yosano lifts her chin, wrinkling her nose.
And Dazai just lets his smile grow, slight nostalgia kind of making its way in his chest as he watches her sluggishly slip into comfier pants, pausing in between to complain about how narrow the pants’ legs are and almost tripping on her own legs—
(Dazai would occasionally have to step in to make sure she doesn’t fall)
—Because she refuses to sit on the bed until she’s fully changed.
Did it take them almost 30 minutes? Yes.
But Dazai doesn’t particularly mind as he watches her because—
Because it’s moments like this when he’s reminded of how he used to take care of his ex-partner. An old friend.
Someone who—just like Akiko—loved to drink a little too much wine when given the chance.
And Dazai was always there, taking care of Chuuya—making sure he was okay and in bed at the end of the day.
Even if that meant having to fight a redhead who gets even more violent when drunk just because Dazai was trying to help Chuuya change out of his work clothes—Dazai always helped.
And it’s because of that—
Dazai was already prepared to help Yosano the first time he brought her back to her apartment when she was drunk—and that was months ago.
And memories of his old life with Chuuya would sometimes surge into his mind. Like right now.
It’s funny how close Akiko and Chuuya could be, now that Dazai thinks about it.
“You’re not going to bed?” Yosano asks with a slight downturn of her mouth when she watches Dazai leave the side of the bed after she finally makes herself comfortable in it, his fingers coming up to begin unbuttoning his own shirt.
“I still need to change as well.”
—And quickly grab a tall glass of water from the kitchen with some painkillers to set at the nightstand beside their bed—because he knows she will need it.
Getting ready to sleep for the night doesn’t take as long for Dazai—just a quick change into a baggy t-shirt and grey sweatpants, quickly brushing his teeth and yes, he did properly wash his face.
It’s not long after until he’s returning to bed with a glass of water for her to take, along with some Advil that he knows she’ll be taking early in the morning.
“You’re really slow, you know that,” Yosano mumbles as she tips her head, her throat moving as she swallows down a big sip of water, releasing a wet gasp right after.
“And you’re really grumpy, you know that,” Dazai comments with no bite in his tone, taking the glass of water back to set aside for whenever she wants to drink from it later. “I liked you better when you were in your earlier stages of being drunk.”
It was meant to be a joke—a very clear one with the clip of how playful his tone was.
But Yosano still casts a narrowed glare at him—it looks like a death threat more than anything else—prompting the corners of Dazai’s mouth to lift in a teasing smile within a blink of an eye.
“I’m kidding,” Dazai only faintly blanches, lifting his own blanket (because yes, they have their separate blankets—Dazai learned how much of a blanket Yosano is at night, causing him to end up cold as hell that one night) to crawl under and let his body sink into their mattress.
“I happen to like every part of you,” Dazai grins and—
Yosano groans, pushing him away (not that far, though) and she sounds tired, “Don’t say that shit to me.”
“But you like it~”
“No,” Yosano presses the palm of her hand to her right eye to gently rub it, “I don’t.”
And yet—Dazai can still see how flushed red she got just because of that.
Uh-huh.
Dazai’s grin softens as he watches her, then he changes the topic, “Are you still feeling nauseous?”
Because if she is—
Then maybe going to sleep right away isn’t the best idea right now.
But—
Yosano mumbles something that sounds like a ‘no’ while she yawns and shakes her head—and that’s enough for him to let out a breath with a tiny nod, relaxing into the bed and pulling her with him in his arms, as both of their heads hit the pillows to rest for the night.
With how much wine Yosano has consumed—Dazai wouldn’t be surprised if she knocked within the next few seconds because that’s usually what happens—
“Hm?” Dazai knits his brows when he feels her fingers pulling at his neck, trying to get his attention.
When he turns his head, Yosano is already angling her chin up to press a soft kiss right onto his lips—the taste of wine becoming a little bittersweet with fresh mint from the mouthwash lingers on his mouth—but he melts into it anyway, hands coming to pull her in by her lower back and waist.
It doesn’t last as long as he would want, because soon after he hears her letting out a soft, mumbled, “Night, ‘Samu,” before she’s leaning back to rest her head on his chest, her very cold feet coming to make themselves a little warm spot between his legs.
“…” Dazai doesn’t move or say anything, still a little frozen and stuck on…that.
Night ‘Samu.
…That’s new.
Not the kissing before bed or her calling him ‘Samu but—
Saying that. They never said, ‘good night’ before then.
It was always just them having small, fruitless conversations until she started to doze off first before he did, a comfortable silence settling in soon after.
And he never minded that kind of dynamic between them before but…
His chest feels too full with warmth, he thinks it might burst at any second, and it’s stupid that he can’t even fight back a small smile making its way to stretch across his face like some boy who just got told that his crush liked him back.
It’s such a small thing and yet—
It feels nice to hear that.
It makes everything that lies between them a little more intimate. A little step closer to a relationship that Dazai never thought would be possible for not just them—but for any partner he would’ve had in his life.
And maybe she won’t remember saying it when morning comes, but that’s okay—
Shuffling to get into a more comfortable position, Dazai has one arm under a pillow while the other is hugging her a little closer to his body, his mouth getting covered by her silky hair.
—Because he still got to hear it, and that’s all he’ll be thinking about until his brain loses to his body’s demand for some sleep and—
There’s a softly spoken, “Night Akiko,” that gets whispered but unheard by her, before Dazai closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to come in.
It’s funny how it’s always the little things that manage to stick with you, isn’t it?