Work Text:
"Atsushi has left and no one knows where he is." Dazai pours Fyodor a shot.
"Not like they care where he is." He sets the bottle down.
"Kunikida refuses to accept our fate." Fyodor isn't there.
At least not yet.
"He's still out there somewhere trying to stop the chaos." In the distance, tires screech, and glass shatters. Dazai momentarily wonders if that's how Kunikida dies. What a pity if it was. What a waste it would truly be.
He downs his shot and continues to wait, sitting at Bar Lupin patiently while the world around him comes to an end. The ground shakes below him and a bit of dust falls from the ceiling. Dazai does not care when the chipped paint finds its way into Fyodor's cup. Nor does he react when the door opens and in walks the man he was waiting for.
The man he lied to. The conman he conned. The man who got fooled by a fool. The blind man who helped him to see. The trapped man that helped him escape. The man he loves. Dazai hopes, yes he hopes for he doesn't know, that Fyodor still loves him too. And that he forgives him for what he did, or for the lack of things he did for that matter. The world was ending and Fyodor had nothing else to do but to visit Dazai. It would be his last chance to do so anyway. One last time he could see the man who understands him. Or understood him.
Fyodor hopes that Dazai still loves him. He doesn't know but he hopes.
He might even pray.
••••••
Maybe.
Just maybe if he can get Dazai to love him again, he might be able to die peacefully. The bartender leaves, his apron sitting on the table neatly folded. He leaves and he never looks back. The ground shakes once more and the walls around them creak in retaliation to being moved from their original position. Fyodor watches as the bartender turns to leave. He doesn't look back and Fyodor wonders for a moment where the man is going. To see his family most likely, but he stops trying to pry. Stops trying to figure everything out.
Maybe he should leave all his questions unanswered.
Maybe.
All questions except one.
"Dazai. Do you love me?"
(Maybe)
It was not "Do you still love me." Because though he knows Dazai once did, it wasn’t like the past matters anymore anyway.
Dazai answers almost immediately, he had been expecting the question.
"Of course."
Fyodor takes a seat next to Dazai. The brunette continues, "And I regret everything I've ever done to"
"Whatever happened before now, before this very moment, and whatever happens after, will not matter anymore."
Fyodor switches their shot glasses and pours himself a shot of liquor. Dazai smiles as he picks up his (once Fyodor's) shot glass. A small bit of dust floats on the surface of his drink. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind one bit.
"Cheers." Says the Russian.
"To what?"
Fyodor smiles softly at the brunette. "To the stray dogs of course."
Dazai nods gently.
Because of course.
Two filled shot glasses clink against each other before parting again. They tilt their heads back, and the alcohol leaves the glass and burns the back of their throats instead. Two empty shot glasses shatter across the floor.
Dazai gets up from his seat and leans forward, his hands cupping Fyodor's face. Fyodor leans into the touch if not only slightly. He feels the ghost of the shot glass between his fingers. The clattering of the glass still rings in his ears and the shards of the aftermath crack under the soles of Dazai's shoes as he takes a step forward.
"I love you." Fyodor lets the words slip from his lips. All the hurt and all the guilt washed away. Relief took its place, like waves crashing onto the shore and sweeping it all away. Dazai lets a small sigh of admiration escape his lips. The man he loves, who is right in front of him, was beautiful. He knew this of course, but it never ceased to amaze him. Dazai can't help but stare in awe. The soft black hair brushes against the tips of his fingers. The dim yellow light shins against the jet-black hair and creates a sort of halo on Fyodor's head. The irony makes Dazai smile a little more.
There was a look in his eyes. Of so many emotions Dazai had never seen before. He wishes Fyodor had given him a chance to see such a beautiful mix of hurt, compassion, and sorrow sooner. A truly perfect blend of all the emotions he felt too.
"I do too." Dazai breathes, not looking away from the eyes below him. The very eyes he had missed so much. Longed for it every night until this very moment.
"Then say it." Fyodor's voice showed so much desperation Dazai was slightly taken aback. His eyes become glossy, adding to the look of overwhelming emotion and Dazai wishes the shine of life never leaves them. He knows the wish will never come true.
"Say it so I believe you. Tell me, to my face and seal it with a kiss. Promise me and swear on your life you will never break the promise."
Dazai knows that they will die soon and he is reminded of it once more when the lights flicker and the ground trembles again. The building groans but nothing happens. Nothing happens yet. "Please Osamu. Please let me believe you, even for a little while I want to have you again."
"I love you," Dazai says.
But what was love? What would that four-letter word do? How would it express everything Dazai felt for Fyodor?
Dazai shakes his head when Fyodor says. "Swear on your life."
"What would that prove?" He asks.
"Please..." Fyodor begged in a whisper, he raises his hands to hold Dazai's bandaged wrists like he was about to pull the other man's hands away from his face.
"I don't have to swear on my life for you. I've already been living for you." Dazai says right before Fyodor does anything else. He leans in closer, their faces inches apart now.
"Despite how much I want to die, I wake up every morning for you and only you. And right now even when the world is ending, I'm here, with you. Is that better?" There's a hint of red on Fyodor's cheeks. He doesn't try to hide it. Instead, he laughs quietly and closes his eyes, resting his forehead on Dazai's.
"Fedya my dear, I can't explain with words how much you mean to me."
"Then don't. Use something else to show me."
They look up at each other once more. Eyes both filled with compassion and lust. Dazai fills the gap between them, his hands move down to Fyodor's waist and Fyodor wraps his arms over Dazai's neck. The kiss they share is short and light but filled with all the tenderness and warmth Dazai couldn't find the words to express.
Fyodor licks his lips and leans in for another kiss. Dazai is more than happy to give to him. They tighten their grip on each other when the ceiling above them shivers and the lights swing from side to side. Dazai turns his head slightly, deepening the kiss when the ceiling cracks and the walls start to crumble around them. Fyodor leans into Dazai's warm embrace, relishing the moment before it ends.
•••••
He knows it will end, and he knows it will soon. How soon, he would know too but he doesn't try to figure it out. Instead, he focuses on enjoying the last few seconds they have. How many seconds, it doesn't matter.
•••••
Glass bottles fall from their places on the shelves. The lights flicker and die out. Yet they do not care.
It was just them. It was only them. They and only them together. And the soft lips against their own, the hands-on their bodies familiar like their own. The whole world disappears around them, just the two of them left with these few last seconds and they make the best of it.
Dazai feels the concrete crash onto his head, he wants to shield Fyodor from the danger, but he knows it's a fruitless act. He does it anyways, pulling Fyodor into his chest but not breaking the kiss. Something else will kill Fyodor, but it definitely won't be the large piece of the ceiling that hit the back of his head. Dazai wouldn't trade this moment away for the world.
This world, this crashing, caving, dying, and cruel world, that brought him and Fyodor together this faithful night.
Fyodor holds Dazai close to him as their bodies crash onto the floor. Dazai feels himself slipping into unconsciousness. Fyodor feels something sharp pierce his chest. He wants to cry out, but he instead takes one more breath. Before his lungs stop working and before his heart stops beating, taking in the scent of Dazai's shampoo and the smell of his cologne.
He breathes in and out...
In and out...
Anyone could be his last. But it's not.
Not yet.
It was sweet and reminded him slightly of lavender and cinnamon, mixed with the strong scent of alcohol and the faint musty smell of the concrete that became more apparent when it had given way and crashed down onto them. Dazai could feel his heart beating slowly. Slowly. Just enough that it might stop.
Any moment now... Any moment... It just might.
The pulsing pain in his head goes numb and he ignores the warm sticky liquid dripping down his whole neck and back. It doesn't hurt anymore but he can still feel the blood, pouring out of what must be a gaping wound at the back of his head. He doesn't care for it. He feels Fyodor lying next to him. That's all that matters. His heart pushes on still, pumping to the beat of the pulsing in his head.
Bu-dum
In and out
Ba-dum
In and out...
Ba-dum... In...and out... Ba...dum...
In and...
●••••°~ ♡~°••••●
"I love you"
●••••°~ ♡~°••••●
"I've already been living for you."
●••••°~ ♡~°••••●
Two men meet, they fall in love, and they die together. But does the word "love" really show the full extent of emotions they have for each other? It probably doesn't. It probably never will. But that doesn't matter anymore either, for the moment they shared has ended.
●••••°~ ♡~°••••●