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From a discreet spot on his bedroom window, he spies the way Dazai uncharacteristically fidgets in front of his house’s gate. Not for the first time, he wonders if the apocalypse is about to happen.
Dazai, looking insecure? Dazai, showing up ahead of the appointed time?? Dazai, combing his hair and wearing new clothes???
What the flying fuck is going on!!!
He rubs the back of his neck irritably. This is all that mackerel’s fault. Seeing him act so weird is giving him allergies. To the point that he’s also influenced to doing something strange, like stealing glances at the bastard from the second-floor window, laser-like gaze analyzing just how could a simple change in tucking his hair behind one ear can transform his look so thoroughly.
“This is probably one of that guy’s top 100 scumbag tactics,” he grumbles to himself, before making his way to his closet. He looks down at his clothes, warring between two types of unwillingness. On one hand, he doesn’t want to seem underdressed compared to that fish. On another hand, he also doesn’t want to be driven to change his outfit based on what that annoyance is wearing.
After spending several moments having an internal debate and mentally beating up a mackerel plushie, he exhales loudly, then stomps out of his room. He mentally erases the part where he turns back and grabs his wallet and phone, before resuming his cool, unaffected, certainly-not-excited stride down the stairs and out the front door.
Thankfully, his dads are out on a business trip, while his sister is an overnight trip to Kyoto. Nobody else sees him trip over his own shoelaces when he realizes that he’s actually about to go out on his first-ever date. Even if it’s with a stupid fish, it’s still his first date, damn it!
Dazai stares at him, the moment he steps out the door. Then, his nervous energy evaporates as he sneers, “You’re late by five minutes, Chuuya.”
“Being fashionably late is part of being cool, you wouldn’t understand,” he snipes back, crossing his arms over his chest.
Then, they both take a few seconds to accept the fact that they’ve both just admitted to watching the clock. It’s a loss on both their parts to acknowledge it, so they harrumph at each other, then tacitly decide to ignore that part.
Dazai shifts a bit, looking behind him. “Kouyou-san isn’t around?”
He regards him with suspicion. They’ve pretty much grown up together, being neighbors and being adopted kids with parents who occasionally work together. That said, he could have sworn that Dazai is frightened of his older sister, always doing his best to avoid a confrontation with her.
“She’s out on an overnight trip with her coursemates,” he replies, squinting. “Did you need her for something?”
A flippant wave of his hand. “Seeing an elegant beauty would give me so much strength to endure a day with a violent slug, that’s all.”
“You’re the one who wanted to do this,” he reminds the other, even though he knows it’s unnecessary. Dazai’s memory is relentless—he would still occasionally harangue him for a perceived slight from more than a decade ago.
Dark eyes blink at him, followed by a sigh. “It’s for the sake of being able to woo the most beautiful redhead fairy in my life.” With supreme unwillingness on his face, he grabs one gloved hand, squeezing his fingers as they march down the road.
“Stop trying to break my hand, you’re not going to succeed!” He then goes to show how to properly try to break someone’s fingers, but with how slippery a mackerel is, it just ends up with them on a stalemate, ten fingers intertwined.
How did he even end up in this ridiculous situation?
He would have to go back all the way to their first meeting.
As a pair of toddlers, who have been introduced to each other by their parents who have adopted them. With Dazai wearing all sorts of bandages, and a long white shirt that it almost appeared like a dainty dress, tricking Chuuya to coming closer and helping the “sickly princess” out. Of course, it’s also during this first meeting that Chuuya ended up with a bug down his shirt, courtesy of this “sickly princess” having a very sick taste of humor, and it’s at that point that he has decided to never, ever be tricked by this bastard ever again, and to never, ever lose against him in their lifetime!
Whatever Dazai challenges him on, he’d surely win, damn it!
This translates to them bickering all the time and making bets with each other. Unfortunately, never ever getting tricked or never ever losing a bet has proven impossible. Fortunately, the most recent bet has his win count edging on top of Dazai’s win record by one.
…Unfortunately, upon winning their bet, he has been tricked to offering magnanimity in the form of doing a favor for the loser fish.
And this favor is to go on a date with him.
Not because they like each other, of course. That would be terrible, disgusting and probably make the world explode. More importantly, it isn’t true in the slightest!
Shockingly enough, the reason is apparently because Dazai has fallen for someone (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and he wishes to woo them instead of scamming them into dating him. That sentiment alone is enough to fry all of Chuuya’s braincells, because Dazai??? Being considerate??? Wanting to be genuine??? What the flying fuck is going on!!!!
He feels himself frothing at the mouth upon thinking back on that. Well, he must have been foaming at the mouth—otherwise, why would Dazai crowd him against an alleywall, and touch the corner of his mouth?
“What the hell are you doing,” he hisses, eyes darting around. It’s all dark and shady, and absolutely nobody is around, which means that if Dazai asks to practice k-k-k-k-kissing him, he can agree to it without running the risk of someone seeing them and forming a misconception about how they actually get along well.
Worse, if Albatross and his loud mouth learns of this, then he’d definitely spread it all over school in minutes, then when they have classes come Monday, everyone would think that he’s about to elope with a fish! Which is absolutely the worst prospect ever, because why would he want to elope with a mackerel who doesn’t even know how to properly do housework!
“I’m checking as to why you look you’re about to go into shock,” but it’s said in a cheery singsong that means that Dazai has read the crazy tangents that his mind went through.
“This is your fault,” he says, putting the blame on the right person. For good measure, he also puts his hands on both sides of that stupid waist, cinched by the vest that he’s wearing, like he wants to emphasize how he’s such a twig of a beanpole who would crumble if he so much as punches him with full strength. “You’ve been acting so weird lately!”
“It’s because I’ve fallen in love,” Dazai tells him, sounding and looking so smug, like he should be the envy of the entire population for doing something so common amongst fellow teenagers. “This might be news to a shorty like you, but being in love tends to make one do crazy things.”
“My height has nothing to do with it?!” He squeezes that waist, enraged. “Also, you’re just crazy from the get-go! Love has nothing to do with it!”
With a nod, “Mm, it’s possible that I’ve been in love from the get-go.”
Chuuya gapes at him in horror. This bastard has been in love for so long, and yet he still flirts with so many girls??? How much of a scumbag is he?! Also, he’s been in love for so long, and he’s only trying to woo the other party now??
Dazai touches his mouth again, laughing. “If you keep on acting so cute, I’d be tempted to do something crazy.”
He shudders. “You calling me cute is already crazy enough, oi.” Strangely enough, that makes his heartbeat return to normal. Dazai telling him a bunch of nonsense is part of the usual.
It’s alright. Things will still remain as usual, regardless of whether Dazai has been abducted by an alien, desperate enough to learn how to woo his stupid fairy, that he’s even willingly inviting him out on a date for practice.
Dazai is a man of many plans. The rest of their day follows the pattern of the mackerel proposing to do something, asking Chuuya for his opinion that doesn’t matter as much in the end, because Dazai has already predicted his answer and has accounted for it ahead of time. Or maybe it does matter, because everything feels ridiculously tailored to his interests.
Spending hours battling each other on a gaming arcade, competing on the claw machine as to who can get the better plush toy, attempting to break each other’s faces as they jostle for prime spot on the photo booth. Hopping from one street food stall to another, using empty skewers of their yakitori to hold an impromptu fencing match. Hiding behind the bushes of a nearby park when they spot Adam-sensei walking with Eve-sensei, then making bets as to whether those two are dating. Going to a pet café, despite Dazai’s disgusted expression at being in the proximity of “other dogs”.
Buying so much takeout that can feed an entire army, so they’re full-bellied by the time they’re sprawled on the couch of Chuuya’s home, two movies finished. An action movie, and a mystery movie, and they both create an entirely new story out of their criticisms for the plot.
Chuuya doesn’t think he can move, from all the food in his stomach jockeying for position against the butterflies in his gut. With how violently his insides are churning, they’ve probably evolved to vultures at this point.
“What, still not satisfied? Want to play a racing game next?” Dazai doesn’t look any better, having already divested himself of his coat and vest. He’s just in his shirt and pants, the top two buttons undone. There’s a slight swell to his stomach now, from all the food they’ve ingested.
He swallows hard, and moves closer so he can trace it using his hand. His own jacket has been thrown aside before, after it’s been used to whack the fish for some transgression. It’s not like they haven’t seen each other in varying states of undress—knowing someone since toddler years tend to bring so much life experience.
Going to arcades, going on a food trip, going to the movies, going to a café, going to spend overnight at each other’s houses—those are normal things between them too.
But something feels different now.
“How long have you been trying to woo that person,” he asks, mouth dry.
His living room couch is big enough to have him, his sister and his dads together; right now, it’s suffocatingly small, mind-blowingly large. It’s as if he could be in another galaxy entirely if he so much as moves one millimeter away from the mackerel.
The credits of the mystery movie still continues to play on the television screen, casting a bone-white glow over Dazai’s already-pale face. “Mm, it’s been quite some time,” and his eyes promise a much deeper mystery than the movie they’ve just watched.
“And you still haven’t succeeded?”
Dazai, who could weave the most beautiful of words, as long as he puts his mind to it? Dazai, scammer extraordinaire, someone with the ability to trick someone to giving up both kidneys with a smile? Dazai, who could design an entire day that completely caters to a person’s tastes?
He swallows again, and is about to say something very embarrassing, like, “You’re so pitiful, I’ll date you instead, but only because of how it’s so pitiful to have all that pining be for naught, also don’t you dare try to date that person when you have me, or else I’ll break your legs.”
Fortunately for him, Dazai shrugs and rubs his mouth again, like he’s still hungry after all that food bingeing. “It can’t be helped. My little, little, little fairy is really stupid.”
In a certain tone of voice, a certain set of words.
Much like the mystery plot locking into place, realization dawns on him.
A very important point: “I’m not stupid, damn it! And I’m not that small!! Oi!!!”
Unfortunately, he’s already been infected with Dazai’s craziness. Five minutes after they both wince at trying to roll into the couch when they’re still both so full, Chuuya smacks his stupid boyfriend and gets them to have a not-so-violent picture together, so they can announce their relationship to social media.
(Somehow, Albatross still breaks the news first, apparently having seen them earlier in that alleyway.)
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end