Work Text:
Dazai knows the route to their apartment by heart. There's no need to count his way up there, but he does anyway.
First flight of stairs. One, two, three,
Today was so hard. He was exhausted, having to bounce between three different cases, one of which had required involvement with the Port Mafia. His poor chibi had looked so exhausted when he saw him there, too. Was he getting enough sleep? He'd been staying at the ADA dorms instead of their apartment, after all, so he hadn't been there to check if his stupid doggie was resting adequately and eating enough.
Eight, nine, ten, eleven. Landing one of four. Floor one.
Second flight of stairs. Two, three,
Now that he thinks about it, the Port Mafia has been abnormally noisy of late. They've been getting a lot done, demolishing underground competitions and snatching up materials from the black market and web. No wonder chibi seemed so tired, he must be swamped with work.
Ten, eleven. Landing two of four.
Third flight. One, two, three,
He should do something nice for Chuuya, shouldn't he? If he's as overworked as Dazai worried (and considering he looked physically exhausted, he certainly must be) then he deserved something nice. Maybe he'd hold back on the teasing this time. Stay at their apartment instead, make sure he was well taken care of, whatever that might entail.
Eleven. Floor two. Landing three. Almost there, and he could hear that lovely old woman's footsteps tapping down the stairs above him.
Fourth flight.
"Hello, missus Sakamoto." He smiles at her warmly, and she beams at him.
"Osamu! How nice to see you again! Your husband has been very lonely you know, you ought to spend more time with him. Daisuke and I miss hearing your playful squabbles down the hall." She chides, tapping her cane on the stair she's on as they stop between passing each other. Dazai feels himself smile sheepishly.
Atsuko and Daisuke Sakamoto have been living in this building since before he and Chuuya were moved in during their years in the Port Mafia as Soukoku together - a sweet elderly couple that watched them grow from at each other's throats to the loving couple they are behind closed doors today. So of course she'd pick up on Chuuya's exhaustion when she was like a mother to both of them.
"I know, ma'am. Work has kept me away, but I assure you he's going to be bothered to hell, heaven, and back for the next week. I'm not leaving him alone until I know he's refreshed again."
Atsuko grins at him, warm and amused, and she pats his arm as she half hobbles down the stairs, careful with her cane as she descends.
"Good, good! He told me he was ordering tonight, so he had eaten. Now go take care of your husband."
Ten, eleven. The last landing - floor three. He opens the landing door, and walks down the hall, counting each door number as he goes.
Two-fourty-two. Two-fourty-four. Two-fourty-six.
He looks across the hall, and smiles. The Sakamoto's apartment door (number two-fourty-seven) is cracked open, held open by a small package. A placeholder of a doorstopper while Atsuko is out.
There it is. A simple number plate, no welcome mat, nothing. No indication that this apartment is even lived in. But it is. Dazai knows it is.
Two-fourty-nine. Home .
He pulls his keys out of his pocket, inserts it into the lock and twists it, pushing the door open softly. He steps into the apartment, noticing first the dim light. Second, the dishes and takeout box on the kitchen counter by the sink. Third, the mass of soft red on the couch, that doesn't stir in response to the door opening.
His Chuuya, fast asleep on the couch, wrapped in that old red throw blanket he's come to love so much over the years.
Dazai shuts the door behind himself. Toes his shoes off, puts his keys on the peg of the coat rack facing the corner, just as he always does. He checks the plastic bag and the boxes inside, and finds a few gyoza left in them, and some noodles, and rice… hm. Must've gotten it from that order-out shop down the road, the noodles look like they have shrimp and oysters and some kind of fish in them. He ordered enough for leftovers, but Dazai should eat too, shouldn't he?
…he should check on his husband, first.
Chuuya is completely out cold. There's a plate on the coffee table, a bit of sauce and a few grains of rice left on the porcelain, a cup with the last dregs of a dark red tea in it (probably the herbal raspberry one he likes, the one he takes with coconut sugar). He's swaddled in their red throw blanket, cuddling a light tan teddy bear to his chest. It has a blue bow around its neck, too… Sho. He's cuddling Sho. His teddy from that old matching bear gift set Kouyou got for them once as a joking Christmas present. One had a blue bow. One was a darker tan, a light brown, and had a red bow. They had named it after each other's codenamed for undercover situations (Aoi, and Sho).
Music is playing softly from his phone. In that moment, a soft, pretty piano cover of Merry-Go-Round Of Life , which tells Dazai everything he needed to know. Oh, his little songbird…
Dazai takes the plate and cup, first. Setting himself to the task of cleaning up quietly, listening as the song from Howl's Moving Castle fades and it starts into the recognizable opening to the House at Swamp Bottom.
He sighs affectionately. Chuuya and his Ghibli movies, even more so when he's regressed.
Dazai quietly plates himself the last three gyoza, a portion of rice (now going cold), and the noodles. He douses the rice in sesame oil and soy sauce, knowing the sauce provided for the gyozas is still on the coffee table, where he left it. He grabs himself chopsticks, and sees himself back to Chuuya's side.
He sits on the arm of the couch while he eats, keeping a close eye on Chuuya's resting form as he does, smiling sadly as he tastes the food on his tongue. Atsuko was right. Poor chibi was lonely.
The gyozas are filled with ground pork, cabbage, soy sauce, green onion, and a few other fillings that create a flavor, that washes over Dazai in a tidal wave with the comforting taste of nostalgia. These are the ones they always got to share, because it was a flavor they could always both agree on. Chibi likes the steamed dumplings that shop offers more. And these noodles - they're the seafood mix noodles. Shrimp, oyster, unagi, tuna, and crab. Chuuya doesn't even like crab that much, normally he specifies he doesn't want any when he orders this. But yet, Dazai would know the taste of one of his favorite foods anywhere.
Dazai finishes the food quickly. It'd be pretty okay when it's cold to most people, but the fact they live close to a harbor port, so the fish is fresh, and the nostalgic memories make it tastier than anything he's had to eat for the past month. As soon as he finishes eating, he quietly eases himself off the couch and cleans up.
The rest of the rice and noodles go into fridge, while everything else is disposed of. He sets his dishes in the sink with a soft clink, filling himself a glass of water before gulping it down quickly. Hydrating himself after a meal, just like Chuuya always does.
…old habits really die hard, don't they?
"Mnnh?" Chuuya's sleepy voice is muffled by Dazai's neck as he's picked up, kept swaddled in the blanket, with Sho tucked neatly into his chest, and his phone in Dazai's hand under him.
"Sleep, puppy," Dazai's voice is so warm, so soft, as he carries Chuuya to their bedroom. "I'm not going anywhere. Only taking you to bed. I'll change and then I'll join you."
Chuuya snuffles, face tucking into Dazai's neck sleepily as he mumbles his reply. "I missed you. Want you to stay here more."
Dazai's heart melts, in a sickening way. Chuuya's always the most vulnerable when he's like this, drowsy and not quite aware of himself. That meant those words came from his heart, however it was he really felt. It's sweet, but saddening. He's been away for far, far too long.
"I know, I'm sorry chibi. I'll make it up to you." He lays Chuuya down on the bed, kissing his forehead. He whines when Dazai pulls away, tears half pricking his eyes, and Dazai feels his stomach twist guiltily. "I know, baby. I'm sorry. Just let me change, I promise I'll be quick."
Chuuya snuffles at him unhappily, but shuffles his way over to his side of the bed, burrowing under the blankets even more as he watches, as alertly as he can, in the dim light. Just in case Dazai wants to try and leave him, sneak out and go away for the night. Right when he just got him back.
Dazai strips to his boxers, then pulls on a loose shirt that drapes over the points of his frame that would be called delicate by those fool enough to forget that muscles are not meant to appear defined. He pulls on a pair of sleep pants, and ties the drawstring tight so they'll stay over his hips as he crawls into bed, reaching for Chuuya as he burrows into his husband's chest with a little sniffle.
"What is it, puppy? Are you okay?" The sound of Dazai's fretful voice just makes the tears fall faster as Chuuya hiccups, feeling too small, and too weak. He clings to Dazai tightly, sobbing quietly, whimpering when Dazai gathers him close, before pausing abruptly.
"Oh, honey, you're still in your day clothes…"
It takes a little effort to convince Chuuya to leave his safe, cozy cocoon, but once he does, he lets Dazai tug him to the edge of the bed. If he had his gloves, hat, and overcoat on, and his bolo tie fastened, all he would need is his boots to be wearing what he always wore to work. Dazai kneels before him, quietly undoing his vest buttons. His fingers cling to Sho's squishy arm as he hesitates, before Dazai gently nudges Sho into his stomach while they slip off his vest together, Dazai's deft fingers removing the tie right after.
He undresses Chuuya. Slowly, gently, because he knows just by how he's sitting, how he's so afraid to let go of Sho that he's so tired that he's nothing but a little ragdoll, and he can't stand to hurt or scare such a precious thing.
Once Chuuya's been undressed to just his boxers and socks, Dazai offers him one of his soft t-shirts, and Chuuya reaches for it immediately, tears welling in his eyes again. Dazai hates the sight, but quietly helps Chuuya wrangle it over his head, kissing his temple once he does.
"You want to wear pants to bed?" He asks, and Chuuya stops thoughtfully for a second, before shaking his head, reaching silently for his adoring husband with teary eyes and a soft pout on his face.
"Yeah," He mutters, gathering Chuuya closer. "Yeah, I know puppy. I'm here. It's okay."
"I missed you." Chuuya whimpers, hiccuping over a sob into Dazai's chest as they curl around each other. "Haven't seen you for weeks. You're always at the Agency. Stop going away, daddy. Miss you when you do. Miss you too much."
Dazai's heart aches , and he holds Chuuya tight against him, petting his hair and kissing his face softly.
"I'm sorry," He whispers. "I'm so, so sorry. I'll stay more, I promise. I'll stay here for weeks, I was already planning to."
"Please," Chuuya whines in a soft, weak voice, and Dazai's stomach churns unpleasantly. "Please do."
"I will," Comes the reassurance, soft and firm. "I promise I will."
Chuuya cries until he can't, and once he does, he finds the silicone of a pacifier being offered, touched to his lips. He hesitates. He feels stupid using them, weird and gross, because that's a baby's item , and he's twenty-two.
"Take it if you need it, puppy," Dazai encourages softly, nudging it against his mouth again. "Or if you want it. We bought it for you for a reason, remember?"
…he caves.
Chuuya opens his mouth, accepts it and the length of woven textile that goes over his head, so it won't get lost in their bed as they sleep, finding that the vanilla scent of his caregiver, the fluffy blanket, Sho, the pacifier - it's the perfect combination, and he half dozes off all but immediately, re-burying his face firmly against Dazai's chest, and melting into the sleepiness.
"Lobve you," He mumbles horsley, voice muffled by the pacifier.
Dazai kisses his head. "I love you too, puppy. Now sleep, okay? Daddy will be here when you wake up."
And, come sunrise, he is. Just like he promised.