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Dazai sat up on his futon, panting and clutching the duvet, his pillow soaked with sweat and bedsheets bunched up at the bottom of the mattress.
He breathed in, drowning in the suffocating sea of black in his dark room.
He breathed out, the faint ticking of the alarm clock deafening him in the ringing silence. Dazai hung his head and covered his face with his hands, hair sticking to his damp forehead, the sensation overwhelming him. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to steady his breath.
It happened again.
Really, it had been happening for a while now - looked like his escape from Meursault and the consequent negotiations with the government trying to get the Agency’s good name back had taken a toll on him. No matter how hard he tried to keep his nonchalant facade up, he could feel it slowly cracking, carefully laid bricks crumbling, plaster weathering away, and paint peeling off as his agony tried to break free like a vile beast it was.
He couldn’t sleep.
Nightmares plagued him every night, bringing out his worst fears and giving him new ones. Every night, he woke up with a scream, heart racing, gritting his teeth in frustration at this weakness he just couldn’t get rid of. Every night, his nightmares seemed to get more elaborate and terrifying. Atsushi being sent to a government lab to be experimented on. Kyouka and Kouyou clashing in a ferocious fight, both getting killed by each other’s Abilities. Kunikida learning about Dazai’s crimes, the disgusted look on his face upon the discovery burned in Dazai’s mind. Chuuya dying in Meursault because Dazai failed to save him on time, watching life slowly leaving his eyes. Dazai himself being tortured in the Port Mafia basement, his tormentors using the same methods on him that Dazai had used years ago. Ghosts of his past bearing the faces of his parents showing him the grimmest scenes from his younger years, reminding him of the monster he used to be.
It was too much.
It’s ok, he told himself once again, staring at one spot in the dark room, eyes focused on the outline of the fridge. It’s not real. It’s not happening. Still, his racing heart kept pounding in his chest like a bird trying to escape from its cage.
Dazai sighed and stood up. If he couldn’t deal with this problem himself, he was going to make it another person’s problem. He grabbed his coat and put on his shoes, never bothering to change out of his pyjamas, venturing into the chilly Yokohama night.
When he approached Chuuya’s door, he hesitated. The pin he normally used to pick the lock to the slug’s apartment was shaking in his hand as Dazai contemplated whether or not he should do it. He put the pin into the keyhole, the movement familiar and well-rehearsed over the years of setting up pranks in Chuuya’s apartment. He stalled again.
Dazai sighed and took the pin out, putting it back into his pocket. He turned on his heels. This was a bad, bad idea. Best-case scenario, Chuuya kicks him out. Worse - he hands him over to the Mafia, still pissed off about the fact that he had to be a mindless puppet in Dazai’s great prison escape plan. Dazai remembered the recurring Port Mafia basement nightmare and shuddered. I’ll just go back home, he thought, but his feet refused to move. Coming back home meant coming back to his nightmares. To his struggle. To his crushing loneliness.
He cursed his newfound indecisiveness and turned to Chuuya’s door again.
I’ll let him decide if he wants to have me or not, Dazai thought and knocked on the door. Three quick knocks, three slow ones, and three quick knocks again. They’d used Morse code before, and Dazai wondered if Chuuya still remembered it.
No one opened.
Dazai hesitantly raised his hand and tried again.
Knockknockknock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knockknockknock.
Silence.
Of course, Chuuya wouldn’t open. Why would he? Dazai felt a lump in his throat. He hung his head and turned, bitter and disappointed, when he heard faint footsteps and not-so-faint cursing coming from behind the closed door.
“You could have just broken in quietly instead of fucking waking me up,” Chuuya grunted, peeking from behind the half-open door, rubbing his eyes. “It’s called manners, shitty Dazai.”
“I wanted to give you a choice.”
“A choice? What are you on about? It’s too late at night for cryptic shit like this.”
“To let me in or not.”
Chuuya blinked. “What’s going on?”
Dazai bit his lip. “I can’t sleep.”
Chuuya raised an eyebrow. “How is that my problem?”
Dazai blinked. His question made perfect sense, and to be honest, he didn’t have an answer, witty or not. He couldn’t even explain to himself why he had decided that going to Chuuya for help could be a good idea. He had nothing to do with it. He didn’t owe Dazai anything. He didn’t have to comfort him in any way. Dazai’s nightmare problem was his, and his only.
“You’re the one I trust the most,” Dazai said quietly, staring at his shoes, feeling Chuuya’s intense stare on him. “Can I stay the night?” he continued, barely audible, raising his head and reluctantly meeting Chuuya’s gaze.
Chuuya scoffed. “The audacity!” he snarled in a gruff, sleepy voice. He pushed the door open and stepped out of the way. “Come in, you fucker.”
Hesitantly, Dazai stepped in, quietly taking off his shoes and hanging the coat on the hook on the wall, stealing glances at Chuuya standing with his arms crossed and an indecipherable look on his face. Chuuya’s place was as dark as Dazai’s, but the darkness here felt nowhere as oppressive as in Dazai’s dorm.
“Go to bed,” Chuuya ordered, pointing at the slightly ajar door with dim light streaming from the crack. “Gotta take a leak. Back in a minute.”
Dazai lifted his eyebrow. “My, my,” his voice shook, no matter how hard he tried to use his signature nonchalant tone. “So eager to get me in your bed?”
Chuuya stopped and groaned. “Won’t be any help if you sleep on the couch. I’ll have to get up again babying you because you’ll be too afraid of the dark.”
“Fair enough,” Dazai whispered to no one in particular. He went to the bedroom and climbed under the blanket, the middle of the bed slightly dented and still warm. A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and Chuuya joined him under the covers. “Turn away from me,” he whispered sternly, “I don’t want to smell your fishy breath all night.”
“How rude, Chuuya!” Dazai gasped, but still complied and turned on the bed. “No one has ever complained before!”
“Maybe they were just too polite to tell you,” he grunted, positioning himself behind Dazai and wrapping his arm around his waist. “Now shut up, will you? I have to wake up early tomorrow, unlike you, lazy bastard.”
“I have to wake up early, too. Technically. I just choose not to.”
“What part of 'shut up' didn’t you understand?” Chuuya hissed and squeezed him tighter. “Sleep.”
Dazai smiled to himself but decided to stop torturing Chuuya just this once, guessing he owed him some sort of gratitude for taking him in. Dazai closed his eyes, focusing on how Chuuya’s body pressed against his felt. He was familiar with Chuuya’s heartbeat. With the flow of blood in his veins. With his breathing patterns. Dazai could easily tell Chuuya was fast asleep after two minutes - how characteristic of him. With each steady rise and fall of his chest, the temperature of Chuuya’s body rose until it felt like Dazai was lying next to a nuclear reactor. It felt comforting, though - nothing like the nightmares where he was burning alive. Dazai closed his eyes and let himself get lost in Chuuya’s omnipresent warmth, thawing his heart and heating every part of his body, including his perpetually cold fingers. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of Chuuya’s arm wrapped around his waist. Is this what he feels like when I nullify Corruption? he thought to himself. Liberated? Safe? Chuuya grunted in his sleep and scooted closer, putting his arm under Dazai’s neck. Absentmindedly, he reached for Chuuya’s hand and gently kissed each knuckle. He knew, like no one else, that these hands were capable of bringing immense destruction. He never realised they could bring great comfort, too.
This bursting supernova that was Chuuya engulfed them both, gently wrapping them in his warmth, and he closed his eyes, snuggling into Chuuya’s welcoming shape, basking in the comfort he hadn’t felt in a very long time, finally letting himself relax and succumbing to sleep.
***
He yanked and sat up as he felt a sudden wave of cold, goosebumps crawling all over his body like bugs. He breathed in, momentarily lost, taking a second to register where he was.
Not again, was his first thought, not here! It can’t be happening!
Oh, was his second thought when he turned his head. What?
The greedy chibi had stolen the blanket and wrapped himself in it like a tiny burrito, leaving Dazai cold, shivering and lying dangerously close to the edge of the bed. He raised his eyebrows and blinked. Honestly, so typical of Chuuya to give his dear guest such a cold treatment.
“No, slug, this is not gonna work,” he mumbled and tried to yank the blanket from under Chuuya. He groaned in his sleep but did not budge. Suddenly, it felt like the petite mafia weighed five tonnes, completely immovable, as if superglued to the middle of the bed.
“Chuuya,” Dazai whined to no avail. “Chuuya!”
He just curled into a ball, wrapping himself tighter in the blanket. Dazai rolled his eyes. It was too cold and too late at night for Chuuya’s shenanigans, no matter how unexpectedly cute he looked in his bundled up burrito form. He reached out and flicked Chuuya’s nose, something that would send him flying in normal circumstances. This was not enough to wake Chuuya up, but just enough to catch him off-guard and let Dazai slip under the blanket, snuggling into the peacefully snoring miniature nuclear reactor. Chuuya mumbled something in protest when Dazai wrapped his arm around his waist, but nonetheless grabbed onto his hand with a steel grip. “So stubborn, chibi,” Dazai chuckled and pecked Chuuya’s shoulder, a kiss light as a butterfly. He felt his eyelids get heavier as Chuuya’s warmth and quiet snoring lulled him to sleep again.
When he woke up, their roles had reversed once again - Chuuya was holding tight onto him, his leg thrown over Dazai’s, cheek pressing against Dazai’s back. He felt at peace. This was the first night in a while that he slept so soundly. He looked at the ray of sun coming into the room through the crack in the blinds and took Chuuya’s hand resting on his waist, bringing it closer to his face.
Dazai smiled and rubbed his cheek against Chuuya’s hand. I should make it his problem more often, he thought to himself, basking in Chuuya's warmth.