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The sound of light rain and the smell of vanilla filled the room as Dazai dipped his pen in ink for the hundredth time in the past hour. Something about the gravelly sound of pen on paper gave him a warm feeling in his chest. Most people would find the sound irritating, and would drop the pen the minute their hand got the slightest cramp, but Dazai never put down the pen, even if the sharp pains in his hand were bothersome.
In the past he held no care for little things like this. Little things like writing stories while the distant sound of classical music from the radio filled the room. But now he’s learned to find pleasure in some of the smallest acts.
Most of his evenings ended like this. Writing until his eyes burned from keeping them open for too long. He used to stay up late for different reasons, and sleep was something he longed for but couldn’t obtain no matter how hard he tried. Now he fell asleep easily, with his mind calm and his body willing to give him the rest he missed for all those years.
It was funny, he used to think love was a stupid thing. Watching couples on the street kiss and hold hands made him sick to his stomach. He never thought he could have something like that.
He never thought he could have anything. He was a sad man. He still is, but now when he is sad he has someone who cares for him and makes sure he never goes to the lengths he used to go to feel better.
Not that he never goes to those lengths now, but he regrets it more. When his bandages are soaked in blood and his skin is bruised he no longer feels numb and empty, he feels sad.
Chuuya was the one who gave him his first journal. Not long after he found Dazai in a miserable state, barely conscious and pale from blood loss, he gave him the journal and told him to write.
Dazai thought it was stupid. There was no way letting his thoughts out in a silly little notebook would make him feel any better. But sure enough, as soon as he put pen to paper he couldn’t stop.
Now, even if he isn’t in a poor state, he’ll write. He’s written a variety of stories. Things about his life, dramatic fiction stories, and much more. He could never imagine the responses he’d get from his works either, and while the majority of his stories still remain private, the ones he’s let out to the public have been majorly successful.
He wasn’t very sad today, he just felt like picking up his pen and letting his imagination go wild. That was how he ended up here, writing frantically despite the calm and peaceful state of the room around him. His feet were propped up on the desk in front of him, and his journal sat in his lap. The position was slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t mind.
The window in front of him showed the setting sun and several little droplets of rain, indicating a light rainfall that would probably increase as it got late.
That was right, rain and late… he was forgetting something.
Dazai lifted his head from the journal and set his pen on the desk in front of him.
Right, he was supposed to pick Chuuya up from the train station. The man had left the week before for a business trip. He was worried about Dazai before he left, repeatedly checking in with him, afraid he’d return to an empty home and a funeral to plan.
Of course Dazai was capable of taking care of himself. The chances of him doing something like that during Chuuya’s absence was low, but that didn’t keep him from worrying.
After ensuring Chuuya that he would be alright, they kissed goodbye and the train took off.
Dazai pulled away from his desk and wandered to the next room where the front door was located. He grabbed his black coat from the rack sitting next to it and an umbrella. After throwing the coat over what he was currently wearing—a black turtleneck sweater tucked into dress pants—he headed outside.
The sky was now dark, and the only things leaving the streets lit up were the moon and the few street lights that glew dimly over the cobblestone roads. The temperature was slightly chilly, but was barely noticeable under Dazai’s coat.
Dazai opened the umbrella and began the short walk to the train station.
With the exception of a few people on their way back from work, the streets were mostly empty. The warm light looming over the streets and the sound of the light rain tapping on the umbrella above him gave Dazai a pleasant feeling that would only increase as he neared his destination.
As much as he and Chuuya bickered, the two cared for each other, and Dazai (as much as he wanted to deny it) was looking forward to seeing him again after he spent the week without him.
While he wasn’t necessarily sad while he was gone, not having Chuuya there with him was lonely, and after spending so much of his life like that he didn’t want to feel lonely ever again.
Okay, he was really looking forward to seeing Chuuya again. He thought of how he could tease him when he saw him, only after the other would run into his arms and Dazai could pepper kisses all over his freckled face. He couldn’t wait to feel his warmth again, and experience his love.
His grip on the umbrella tightened as he tried to conceal the smile he felt growing on his lips at the thought.
Gross , he was thinking such sickeningly loving thoughts.
Noticing the train station not too far off, Dazai’s pace slowed. As he got closer, he noticed the train wasn’t there yet. Good , he thought he’d be late.
Dazai checked the clock on a wall not too far from him; Chuuya's train was scheduled to arrive in around two minutes.
After walking to a covered spot, Dazai closed his umbrella and sat down on a nearby bench. There weren’t many other people there, but the people he saw looked just as excited to see whoever they were waiting for as he was.
He shut his eyes for a second, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was slightly sleepy, which was probably because he had stayed up the previous night writing.
(And because he hadn’t been able to sleep since he was eager for Chuuya’s arrival the next day, but he’d never admit that.)
The rumbling sound of an approaching train and the whistle signaling it’s arrival jolted Dazai out of his thoughts, and he snapped open his eyes.
He quickly scurried closer to the train where most of the other people were crowded.
Excitement clouded his thoughts as he watched the people getting off the train, and he didn’t even notice the rain dampening his hair.
It wasn’t long until a head of apricot orange hair quickly approached him, and strong arms wrapped around his body.
Dazai lifted his arms and let one of the rest in the hair of the head laying on his chest and wrapped the other around Chuuya’s waist.
“Hi,” Chuuya said breathlessly, lifting his head.
Dazai couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he looked into Chuuya’s eyes. Bright, enchanting blue eyes that he got lost in every time he looked at them.
“Hi,” Dazai responded.
Chuuya smiled, a beaming smile that Dazai swore belonged on a movie screen. No, he preferred that smile be only for him .
“Did you miss me?” Chuuya asked, hugging Dazai tighter.
Of course .
“Hmm..I don’t know. I almost forgot you, actually,” He teased, fighting the smile on his face.
“Liar, I know you did! Or else you wouldn’t be hugging me this tightly,” Chuuya shot, poking Dazai lightly.
“Mm, you caught me. I missed you terribly, and every waking moment during your absence I was left longing for your presence…” Dazai exclaimed dramatically, lifting a hand to his forehead. He tried not to laugh when he saw Chuuya’s face go slightly red, something almost unnoticeable in the dim lighting.
“You’re disgusting,” Chuuya scoffed, burying his head further into Dazai’s chest.
“But you love me,” Dazai said, tipping his head ever so slightly so it rested against Chuuya’s.
“Sadly,” Chuuya grumbled.
Lifting his head and separating himself from Chuuya, Dazai grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.
“Shall we head home?” Dazai asked.
Fighting a yawn, Chuuya nodded, grabbing onto Dazai’s arm and resting his head against it.
Not too long after the two began their walk home, Chuuya glanced at Dazai’s other arm, which was holding onto a black umbrella.
His hair and clothing was damp with rain, and given Dazai hadn’t offered him an umbrella he’d assumed the storm must’ve started after he arrived at the platform, so he hadn’t grabbed one.
Chuuya stopped, leaving Dazai to glance at him with a confused look after he dropped his hand.
“Are you alright?” Dazai asked with a hint of worry in his voice.
Ignoring the question, Chuuya ran a gloved hand over his face.
“You had an umbrella?” He asked, sighing.
Dazai looked surprised at the question and turned his head to the hand holding the umbrella. His next look at Chuuya was hesitant.
“Oh…would you look at that!” He said, tossing the umbrella to his other hand.
“You’re an idiot,” Chuuya said with a smile as Dazai grabbed his hand and pulled him in.
Dazai opened the umbrella and put it over them, tugging Chuuya closer.
“Really such an idiot,” Chuuya said again as he pulled on Dazai’s collar, closing the gap between them.
This was maybe their millionth kiss, but it tasted just as sweet as the first one. Dazai’s lips were chapped and he tasted like whiskey. Chuuya’s lips were soft and he tasted like cigarette smoke. The tastes would be unpleasant any other time, but when on the others lips they were saccharine.
The two painted a pretty picture, pressed against each other underneath an umbrella in the warm light of the street lamps around them as the rain got heavier. When with each other, their surroundings never mattered. It was just Chuuya and Dazai, Dazai and Chuuya. The way it had always been, the way it always would be.