Work Text:
1 <3
Eight months had passed since Chuuya had been taken in (read: forced to join his rival organization) by the Port Mafia. Overall, it wasn’t too bad. The pay was good, he wasn’t hungry, some of the people there were nice, Kouyou was there, and he had a warm home to go back to every day.
Ah, yes.
His house.
He would like to have a home. And technically in writing, he actually does! But it had been taken over by the fish-like mafia member known as Dazai Osamu soon after Chuuya had bought the luxurious apartment. He wasn’t really mad. But he certainly wasn’t happy about it either.
If Dazai had been a good roommate to live with, he wouldn’t have cared at all. But things were never easy with the brunet.
No, he had to be the worst roommate Chuuya had ever laid eyes upon.
He didn’t wash his own clothes, he left sake bottles out regularly, his used bandages were piled in the corners of their bathrooms at random and chores, ha, what were those? Dazai certainly didn't know of such things.
Chuuya had come close to kicking him out before, but every time he thought about doing so he was reminded of the Demon Prodigy sitting on a moth-eaten matress with an equally disgusting blanket wrapped around his shoulders and shivering as if his life depended on it. He knew that Dazai’s days had been unbearable before Chuuya had entered his life, so the redhead would be kind. Even if it made him go batshit crazy in the process.
It had started with Dazai breaking in to ‘prank him’ (there never was an actual prank any of the times he tried this, what the hell?), which slowly morphed into him simply following the redhead home after their joint missions and “accidentally” falling asleep on Chuuya's couch after he fed him.
Truthfully, Dazai didn’t eat much. But if Chuuya cooked it, somehow he found the ability to muster up enough energy to at least eat half of whatever was presented to him. He insisted it was just because Chuuya was a good cook, but really it was worth it to see the little smile Chuuya had on his face when he walked away with two dishes that weren't full in his hands. His chibi was so cute.
Then came the times Dazai just blatantly walked in and refused to leave, which became every time they weren't at the Port Mafia headquarters.
Chuuya slowly started to realize what was going on and stopped protesting. Dazai took this as his invitation to move in and the next day brought his sad assortment of possessions to Chuuya’s apartment.
It contained a camcorder, polaroid camera and polaroids of Dazai with Ango and Odasaku, a couple of rolls of bandages (why did he bring them? Chuuya bought him most of his bandages anyway? Chuuya had no clue), his suicide book, his work uniform and his black coat. Anything of lesser importance was left at his shipping container, if he really felt like using any of those items he could always just go back and get them. (He actually couldn’t, Dazai didn’t know that Chuuya would destroy the container the following night. Dazai still didn’t know how he felt about that seven years later).
By Dazai’s logic, it was stupid to sleep on the couch in the home in which he lived (he still didn’t like to call it his own home, it felt wrong) and his solution to this problem was to tackle his chibi in the dark hours of the night while the man was unsuspecting.
As expected of the mafioso, he jolted upwards in shock only to see a Dazai-shaped lump laying above his covers. It wasn’t like he hadn’t expected this at some point, but he had expected to have to invite the brunet, so he was surprised at the younger man’s forwardness. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little proud of Dazai.
“You alright, Dazai?” Chuuya whispered, trying not to disturb the clearly exhausted teenager any more than he already was. “Mph” the redhead was met with a tired, and not happy groan and then silence. That was enough for Chuuya, so he laid back down again and drifted off to sleep. He’d deal with the mackerel in the morning.
When the redhead woke up the next morning he felt incredibly hot and sluggish– Dazai would cry of laughter if he ever heard Chuuya use that adjective to describe himself– and speaking of the brunet, as Chuuya slowly came to his senses he realized that the mentioned man was curled up on top of him. It would be dishonest of him to say that this hadn’t surprised him, Dazai found being vulnerable incredibly distasteful and tried to avoid appearing as such a thing at all costs.
What confused the redhead even further was that Dazai wasn’t asleep at all. There were many things Chuuya was trying to learn about him so that he could understand Dazai better, but knowing whether he was sleeping or not– a task practically impossible for everyone else besides Mori– had come easy to him. It wasn’t a specific sign or signal that let Chuuya know the younger half of soukoku was awake with the living, but more of a feeling in the back of his head. If the mackerel was sleeping than something was truly wrong and even his subconscious started to prepare for the worst.
So there they lay, Chuuya in utter confusion and Dazai still resting (?) on top of him. Despite him knowing fully well Chuuya was aware he had already woken, he was still pretending to be sleeping. Which meant that Dazai had some sort of reason for whatever he was doing, and his partner was being forced to go along with it.
When he finally snapped and couldn’t take the curiosity anymore, Chuuya spoke up. “Dazai?” Once again he was met with a quiet groan from the brunet, but this time he didn’t sound exhausted, only sleepy from having just woken up. It was rare for Dazai to be so open with him. Something had changed for the younger of the pair and Chuuya had no clue what that could possibly be.
Dazai slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head from where he was laying on Chuuya. His hair was a mess (was that really unusual? He supposed not) and his eye bandages were nowhere to be seen. Wait. Dazai without his bandages?
Dazai took off the bandages around his neck whenever he was home, and sometimes his arms’ bandages came off too. But Dazai never took off the bandages covering his right eye.
Chuuya wasn’t particularly mad about this, but he wasn’t very ashamed in admitting that he frequently pondered what could cause Dazai to hide it. He assumed there were cuts on the right side of his face– probably nearing his eye and resulting in it being bandaged– but when Chuuya looked up at Dazai’s face he saw completely unmarked skin. His face was perfect and he couldn’t identify any previous injuries or scars.
Until Dazai shifted his gaze to Chuuya, and his right eye didn’t move downwards alongside his left. It all made sense to Chuuya now. Dazai had slipped up and forgotten his eye was unbandaged. Panicking slightly, he used one hand to cover his eye and turned away.
“Mackerel, it’s fine. Blind, right?”
Dazai turned but didn’t uncover his eye. Slowly, he nodded.
Chuuya never saw those bandages on at home again.
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2 <3
Since Chuuya had joined the Port Mafia, every mission he had been sent on had been alongside Dazai. The furthest away from each other they ever were on missions was when Dazai worked undercover with surveillance and communications devices, but usually, they were fighting side by side.
So when Chuuya was notified that Mori wanted to speak with him, he wasn’t surprised or nervous. Although it should have been, it was not weird to Chuuya that Mori had only requested him in the order. Dazai was always with Chuuya, Sakunosuke and Sakaguchi(who Chuuya still had yet to meet), or Mori. Though it was most often Mori or Chuuya.
When it was Mori, Dazai liked to curl up on Mori’s couch and speak in incomprehensible riddles with Elise or the boss himself.
Chuuya made his way up to the boss’ office while wondering what his next mission would be. Maybe it would be one involving lots of fighting, or something involving lots of planning and thought (Dazai would love that, those were always his favourite), or maybe it would be one of those female/male undercover missions, he hated those. Kouyou loved those as she finally got to dress Chuuya up, but even that wasn’t enough for Chuuya to accept them without complaint.
When he finally reached Mori’s office, he was a little confused at the lack of chattering and an empty couch. He looked upwards at his boss, not realizing his eyes had strayed before he had even had the chance to bow.
“You asked for me, boss?”
“Why yes, Nakahara-kun. Your next mission will be abroad in Europe, I’m aware of your heritage so I’m sure you will be perfectly fitted for the job. I’m assuming you speak your native language?”
“That would imply that I am going to my home country.”
“You would be quite right, this mission takes place in Paris, France. I discovered that no one in the mafia speaks French besides you two.”
Wait. Did ‘you two’ refer to soukoku? If so, that would mean Dazai speaks French. Chuuya silently fumed at the idea of Dazai not telling him something like that; to be fair, it wasn’t like Chuuya had shared his ethnicity with the brunet in the first place… so he guessed they were even.
“Thank you, sir. When will I receive the details for the mission.” Chuuya trailed off, distracted while watching Elise spin in circles and do cartwheels around the room in a deep red coloured gown.
-
“I can’t believe you dyed everything pink, again. How many times have I told you that you can’t put my red sweaters in with the whites.” Chuuya wasn’t really mad, but he wasn’t happy about the idea of being dragged around by Kouyou again for clothing shopping. Dazai could do it with Yosano, but the chances of him avoiding her attempts was high and it would end in Dazai wearing Chuuya’s clothes to work for amusement.
Dazai, who wasn’t phased by Chuuya’s outburst just laughed “But chibi-!” Dazai dragged out the ‘i’ vowel, knowing it made Chuuya see red. “My plan backfired, now I have to stay all at home with you because you can’t go to work in pink work clothes!”
Dazai, who was horrible at managing his tones, hadn’t realized how gleeful he sounded while saying his last few sentences.
Chuuya snorted in amusement and retorted “Don’t worry mackerel, I’ll be out of your hair in a week.”
The brunet didn’t say anything, he merely tipped his head to the side out of confusion and gestured for Chuuya to continue.
“I’m being sent on a solo-abroad mission, so I'm off to Paris next week.”
This would have been hilarious if he didn’t feel a little guilty seeing Dazai’s face drop ever so slightly. He didn’t know exactly why the mackerel cared so much, despite knwoing that his partner was in love with him.
He wasn’t sure Dazai himself knew, though.
Regardless, it was only for a week or two and Dazai could surely survive a couple of weeks without the other half of his duo. They just bickered at work and bantered at home anyway.
“How could my dog abandon me like this, I must have not trained him well enough...” Dazai muttered to himself, moving to the couch and sitting down.
-
Dazai didn't comment further on the situation for the next two days. After quickly moving on from the conversation, he reverted back to his joyous and cheerful self.
Chuuya almost thought that Dazai had forgotten about the whole ordeal and why he cared so much in the first place until he was taking papers up to Mori as a favour for Kouyou. He didn’t particularly care what the files contained, but he did want to see Dazai again. He had looked especially void of emotions today and Chuuya wanted to check on him.
Once he was in hearing distance of Mori's office, he could instantly make out the voices of Mori and Dazai. They spoke in much tenser voices than usual, likely opting out of using riddles and allusions in their speech for once. They spoke in much louder voices than usual, but he still couldn’t make out the words. They were angry, hostile words.
“Mori-dono, please”
It was the first thing he had been able to understand, and it greatly surprised Chuuya.
Dazai absolutely hated pleading with anyone for anything. But if there was one person Dazai refused to bow to, it was Mori. He would do it. He’d resist for hours, but in the end, he always knelt. Though never willingly. It hadn’t sounded as if Dazai had been forced to beg for anything, and instead had done it of his own free will.
“Dazai, you are to remain here. If I hear of attempts to follow Chuuya-kun anywhere, you will be going back for a week.”
Anything that could threaten Dazai was something that Chuuya did not want to experience in his lifetime. It worried him and he stored the conversation away for later when he could sit down and try to have a proper conversation with his partner.
Chuuya heard an audible thump and Mori let out a scoff of disapproval.
When he knocked on the door and was given permission to enter, he saw his partner laying on Mori’s expensive carpet. He looked more upset than the redhead had ever seen him. Not the type of sadness that meant emptiness and a large, evergrowing void in Dazai’s core. No, he meant the type of sadness that made a person look like they wanted to curl up and cry for hours.
Dazai never did end up following Chuuya to Paris. He did however find a note written in angry french that was obviously written by Dazai tucked away inside his luggage. He promised Chuuya that all of his shampoo would be replaced with black hair dye by the time he had gotten home, and stated how furious he was for ‘his dog leaving him in such troubling times’.
The redhead silently laughed to himself on the plane and looked forward to the few weeks he’d be able to speak his native language in, trying to push the thought of a sad mackerel out of his mind so he could enjoy his work trip.
-
Dazai had accompanied Hirotsu to the airport to pick up Chuuya. The first thing he noticed was how Dazai looked as though he was going to fall over from exhaustion. Chuuya definitely would be forcing the brunet into their bed as soon as he got home for some desperately needed rest. Why couldn’t his partner just take care of himself?
Once Chuuya had returned, the two spoke in more French at home. It was comforting for Chuuya and helped to separate his life at home from his work (he wasn’t very good at doing so, but he tried his best nonetheless). Despite Dazai's proficiency in languages, he still had an accent so Chuuya helped him with his speaking and they watched French shows more frequently. Chuuya started finding French books on his bedside table, and he knew that Dazai was buying them for him. Why did his shitty partner have to be so adorable sometimes?
Dazai continued to protest over every solo/abroad mission that his partner was asked to leave for, and it became routine over time. Chuuya never found out why Dazai was so upset over these missions, but it didn’t stop him from wondering.
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3 <3
The next thing that raised concern with Chuuya over Dazai related to his abroad missions as well.
Chuuya was the muscles of soukoku, but he wasn’t stupid. The two of them worked well together because they both were proficient in the other’s best skill, but hadn’t mastered it like their partner had (Dazai was an excellent fighter, but he paled in comparison to Chuuya’s combat). He noticed that whenever he was away from their apartment, Dazai acted differently.
If Chuuya was out drinking with coworkers, hanging out with Kouyou, on overnight missions, or abroad for work Dazai would not sleep in their shared apartment.
Which seemed ridiculous to Chuuya, he lived there and yet he refused to sleep in his own home without the redhead. Instead, he would go sleep in his shipping container or another safe house the two owned. Chuuya didn’t understand how his house was any different with or without him inside of it.
When he tried to confront the brunet about it, he just laughed and exclaimed that Chuuya’s observation skills were improving yet again and told his partner how proud of him he was in a mocking tone.
Chuuya eventually dropped the subject because he heard enough of Dazai’s mask at work, and truly did not want to hear it in his own home. When he told the brunet as much, he had dropped the mask immediately, but he hadn't answered Chuuya's questioning look about the original topic.
Fine, if he didn't want to talk Chuuya wouldn't make him.
He tried his best to be home every night, something that pleased Dazai greatly once he had noticed the pattern.
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4 <3
When the sun had already set and the stars peppered the sky with small specks of light, soukoku began their nightly routine.
Chuuya would make some sort of tea or calming drink for the both of them, and they would sit on their couch and watch a movie or listen to music. They would discuss their plans for the next day and gossip about their coworkers.
They would then move to their bedroom and Chuuya would grab whichever poetry book he was reading at the moment. He would read for the next half hour while Dazai either read his suicide book or read over Chuuya’s shoulder. Chuuya had good taste in books, even if it wasn't Dazai's preferred genre. While Chuuya liked romance and poetry, Dazai gravitated toward thrillers and murder mysteries more frequently.
Chuuya would then put down the book, turn off the lights and promptly fall asleep.
Dazai would remain firmly on his side of the bed for the next few minutes until Chuuya fell into a light sleep. Whether Dazai knew he was still conscious or not, the redhead did not know; but what he did know was that his partner apparently thought he didn't feel him move. Did he really think Chuuya thought they woke up every morning tangled together by coincidence?
Regardless, he woke up like this every day without fail.
He could tell it comforted Dazai, so he didn’t really mind. Even if he woke up feeling as though he was dying because of how often he awoke sweating during the summer.
When his face was buried in the crook of Chuuya’s neck and his arms were wrapped around Chuuya’s waist, Dazai was at peace and that was all that really mattered.
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5 <3
Chuuya found all of Dazai’s sleeping habits adorable (not that he would admit to it), but he did have a personal favourite.
Chuuya always knew when his partner was especially exhausted from finishing a difficult case, how? Because his partner never failed to find him afterwards.
Mori had put them into separate offices after a few months because he couldn’t handle the complaints of bickering he received. Their offices were on the same floor but were separated by several others as a means of keeping them contained (not that it worked very well).
If he thought that would stop Double Black, he was sorely mistaken.
Dazai’s office was hardly lived in. There was a large desk in the middle of the room with a very tall stack of documents (unfinished paperwork, no doubt) and a roll of bandages in one of the drawers. Aside from the pitiful contents of his office, there was a silver plaque with his name written in both Japanese and English characters and his title below it. This was a common item for the high-ranking members of the Port Mafia, but what set it apart from the others was his true title below his professional one.
太宰
Dazai
Executive of the Port Mafia
Demon Prodigy
On the other hand, Chuuya’s office was the definition of warmth. It was warm, well-lit, comfortable and reminded him of his own home. One wall was littered with pictures of Kouyou, Hirotsu, Dazai and himself. Another wall was covered in books resting on elegantly designed bookshelves. Anyone who stepped foot inside Chuuya’s office was met with an idea of who he was as a person. On the door to his office, his plaque was hung proudly and a small stickynote underneath the nameplate said "Dazai too".
One thing that was particularly distinct about the redhead’s office was that he had not one, but two desks sitting in his room. This wouldn't have been particularly unusual if the second desk had just been used for extra space, but there was a chair sitting at that desk as well. Meaning another person worked out of Chuuya’s personal office.
Said person was Dazai Osamu, mafia executive, heir to the Port Mafia, Mori’s favourite, and allergic to his own office.
Every morning, Chuuya would enter his own office, collect his key to Dazai’s and then continue on his way. Once he entered Dazai’s office he would rifle through the other’s paperwork and pick out whatever was necessary for his partner to complete that day.
He would then return to his own office and find the mackerel waiting for him. He would slam the papers down on the table and demand (with no real hatred or anger in his voice) that Dazai must complete what was in front of him before Chuuya would pay attention to him again.
Dazai would just whine and then get to work. Truly, the teenager was such a child when it came to attention.
But that morning, Chuuya had walked into his office and hadn’t been met with vicious teasing or a “friendly” welcome. Instead, it was completely silent. This wasn’t entirely unexpected, Dazai had informed him last night that he wouldn’t be coming into work until late that night as he would be out in the field.
Chuuya just sat down and started working, his partner would find him eventually.
And that time had come many hours later, as a brunet figure had slowly limped into his office. Chuuya had finished his work a half hour ago and was now sitting on his expensive couch with an equally expensive edition of his favourite poetry book.
Dazai trailed in, taking his shoes off so as to not make Chuuya’s precious office dirty and removing his black coat. Another vulnerability he only showed Chuuya, no one else had seen him without his coat in years.
He slowly sat down next to Chuuya and immediately slumped over onto his partner. His head now resting in Chuuya’s lap as he slowly brought his legs up to his chest and hugged them tightly.
Chuuya’s hand naturally fell into Dazai’s hair as he lightly ran his fingers through the brunet hair, scratching at his scalp lightly. Dazai was exhausted after completing such a demanding mission and didn’t have the energy to even speak, but he let out a faint noise of contentment and closed his eyes.
He slowly drifted off comfortably and Chuuya returned to his book, still running his hands through Dazai’s hair.
These were some of Chuuya's favourite memories. He looked forward to each time Dazai fell asleep in his office. It was a show of truly how much Dazai trusted his favourite redhead, he never slept in front of people, let alone inside his workplace. To trust Chuuya enough to do so was significant for both of them.
Chuuya just smiled to himself at how fond he was of his partner.
God, he loved that idiot.
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+1 <3
He had been notified of Dazai’s disappearance from the mafia that morning.
On the same day, he realized how truly stupid people were. Of course he wasn’t mad at his partner of three years. Why on Earth would he have any hostile feelings for him?
It wasn’t like the security footage was a secret. In fact, Mori hadn’t tried to delete the video at all.
-
Chuuya knew something was wrong when Dazai had walked into his apartment, face red and puffy from crying, and refused to say a single word about what had occurred.
He had simply curled up and fallen asleep on Chuuya, which was exactly when Chuuya decided to do some much-needed digging.
He pulled up the footage from the last mission, and suddenly everything clicked. He knew of Dazai’s friendship with Ango Sakaguchi and Oda Sakunosuke. He had driven Dazai to and from his meetings with them in Lupin’s Bar quite frequently and was happy to see Dazai open up to other people.
He hadn’t been aware of Sakunosuke’s death. As the lowest ranking Port Mafia member, no one paid him much mind and didn’t bother to report his death.
But Dazai had cared, and as Chuuya thought about it he realized something. This was Dazai’s first experience with mourning. He had lost almost everyone in his life, but he hadn’t really cared. This time he cared, and it was tearing him apart.
Chuuya stayed by Dazai’s side and helped him as much as he could, though he already knew what Dazai was planning.
“You’re leaving aren’t you?”
He just received a small nod.
“You always have a place here, remember that.” They both knew he wasn’t talking about the mafia, but rather the home they had made together over the last few years.
Dazai smiled a little at that, and they fell asleep together on their shared couch.
When Chuuya woke up alone, he couldn't be mad.
He hadn’t expected Dazai to say goodbye, and their discussion yesterday had been a good enough farewell for him. Fate would bring them together again sometime, Chuuya could only hope that meant soon.
Chuuya sighed, he had so much paperwork to do now that he would be taking on Dazai’s as well. He would be forced to catch up on all of the things Dazai had avoided doing over the years and he was not looking forward to doing so.
No, he wasn’t mad at all. But he would have to pretend. He had to keep up appearances after all.
He removed the photo of the two of him from his desk and got rid of the pictures of Dazai on his wall. Replacing them with other pictures and neatly placing the removed ones inside a desk drawer. He removed any traces of Dazai from his life in the Port Mafia but kept everything that was inside his home. That was their space, and his job wouldn't get in the way of that. They had already taken the time to make sure that the mafia knew not to interrupt their space. Mafia members refused to go anywhere near the apartment building's doors out of fear. He didn't have to worry about that, but he did have to worry about his coworkers.
He spoke bitterly of his partner to his other colleagues and cried dramatically to Kouyou. She hadn’t known of their relationship (though she had surely been suspicious of their partnership), so she just let him open up to her. He had wanted to laugh the whole time.
And when he went home after his first day of not being soukoku, he realized this wouldn’t be so bad. They weren’t soukoku anymore, but they were still Dazai and Chuuya. Even if they weren’t together physically anymore.
But they would be very soon, and when Chuuya heard a knock on his door he knew instantly who it was.
He was surprised at the visit so soon, but he wasn’t unhappy with this turn of events at all.
Chuuya was unhappy with the look on Dazai’s face. His hair was messy and his eyes were rimmed with red. At that moment, he looked so incredibly small that Chuuya just wanted to cry and hug him.
He ushered him inside quickly and led him to the couch, holding him tightly. When he inquired Dazai as to why he was back so soon, assuring him in the process that he wasn’t mad whatsoever, Dazai hesitated in the most un-Dazai way possible.
“I’m sorry- so, … sorry. just- I ca- sleep …. new… -ce”
Half of the words he said were incomprehensible to the redhead who’s arms were still wrapped around Dazai. He kept holding him and attempted to calm him down from his panic and subdue the sobs that were racking his body.
Chuuya eventually managed to calm him down. Dazai’s head was pressed into Chuuya’s thin T-shirt and his arms were hung loosely around his lover’s waist. He was still shaking, but only slightly.
Once Chuuya had deemed Dazai as able to speak, he managed to drag out the reason for Dazai’s visit.
“I can’t sleep alone. Not without my chibi.” He mumbled, voice muffled by the shirt that was separating Dazai from Chuuya.
The already mentioned redhead was surprised by the confession, he had never realized that Dazai had a sleep attachment to him. But as he thought back to different things that occurred over the last few years, things slowly started to click into place.
Dazai started to panic at the silence again. Over the years he had allowed himself to become much more vulnerable with Chuuya, and he was much more comfortable doing so now, but sleep was a sensitive topic for the insomniac. Dazai had tried to do anything to make sure that Chuuya wouldn’t push him away from sleeping beside him, because as years passed he realized that being close to Chuuya was the only way he could actually fall asleep.
When Chuuya left for abroad missions, Dazai would stay awake all night desperately trying to sleep. His partner would come back home however many days or weeks later, and Dazai hadn't slept once throughout Chuuya’s whole mission.
He hadn’t realized his anxiety increasing until he came back into his body hearing Chuuya whisper comforting words in his ear and holding him tightly. “I didn’t know, I didn't realize... I’m sorry Osamu.”
Chuuya gently led him to their bed, and when Chuuya didn’t let go, choosing to drift asleep in Dazai’s arms; Dazai knew he would be alright.