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122 casualties, 34 deaths. That's how many people came into harm under Chuuya's watch this week. A massive turf war had resulted in excessive damages that have taken Chuuya many sleepless nights to handle. It's settled now, but at what cost? His skin is heavy from his subconscious summoning of his ability, and he couldn't really sleep that night. No matter, It doesn't mean anything though.
Two weeks have passed. And almost nothing is different, everyone carries on as if there was never a massacre just recently. Chuuya does too of course, they're just subordinates after all. Besides, he's paid off the grieving families. Nothing new, nothing to worry about.
It's been three weeks. Of all times, this happens to be the anniversary of the flags death. Unfortunately chuuya simply had too much work to do, and only managed to leave some flowers late in the evening. It sucks because he usually stays to enjoy the mountain air and recount some stories, but there wasn't any time this year. He doesn't cry, he doesn't even feel sad anymore. Just a vague numbness he can't pinpoint. It's not a big deal.
Dazai is the breaking point, unsurprisingly. Yet again he was forced to work with his ex-partner for the sake of a mission, some double agent or something, chuuya barely remember the details. The problem is that he refuses to shut the fuck up. Not when they track the person down, not when they dropped them off at the Port Mafia, not even as they head back to the ADA to submit a report.
Of course, the only reason Dazai keeps going is because he hasn't given him a response, and he wishes he had the energy to keep up some banter or at least stay silent until the taller man gives up, but he just....can't. He barely notices the way the cement cracks under his feet as he whirls around and grits his teeth at Dazai. "For once in your fucking life, can you please be quiet? I can't do this today."
Sensing he hit a nerve, Dazai only digs deeper. "Jeez chibi, what's gotten into you? Did all that running hurt your tiny legs-" "Osamu. Shut. Up." The first name startles Dazai a bit and he scoffs, toning down his energy. "It's like you need a nap time or something, goodness."
He barely notices tears on his face until dazai pauses. "Eh, chibi, is there..something in your eye?" Fuck. There's no way-
Chuuya touches under his eye to find that those are indeed tears. Sniffling, he quickly turns and speed walks to his motorcycle. "Allergies. Turn in the report yourself, I'm goin' home. Don't you fuckin dare follow me." He ignores the slightly alarmed "Chuuya-" and speed walks as calmly as he can before hopping on his bike and quickly driving home.
God, he knows he's tired but there's really nothing else to do is there? He moves mechanically, taking off his shoes and hat and putting them away before grabbing a bottle of wine. He has more things to do, but he can just get blackout drunk tonight and worry about the repercussions tomorrow. The bottle is already a quarter empty when chuuya flops onto the couch, and the alcohol burns pleasantly, warming up the blood flow in his system and lightening his mood. Slightly, at least.When Dazai calls, he's already pretty tipsy, laughing wholeheartedly at some animal documentary. When the phone rings for the third time, he finally picks up while rolling his eyes.
"Whaddya want."
"Chuuya's drunk. I'm coming over there."
"Fuck off, I'm fine. Don't you dare show yer face or 'm killing ya. Bye." His thumb hovers over the receiver when he hears Dazai speak. "Operation Two Birds. Just stay there, I'm coming." The line clicks off before Chuuya has a chance to speak, and he scoffs before rubbing his eyes tiredly.
'Two Birds huh? It's been awhile since that's been a thing.' he thinks to himself while waiting.
Back then, putting two kids with excessive trauma and no coping mechanisms who barely trusted eachother was a mess. But neither of them knew self care and they definitely weren't gonna offer kindness for eachother. So, they had framed it as a mission, a way to make it seem like just another job, keeping eachother functioning. He would never tell Dazai, but he missed it terribly in these past years, and sometimes he wonders if..Dazai maybe does as well.
His mood feels like it dipped severely in the time it takes for Dazai to ring the doorbell, so he doesn't bother getting up. As always, Dazai picks the lock with ease, setting a couple of random bags on the table before standing next to the couch. "We're getting you into a bath, you reek." Chuuya rolls over and hides his face in the couch. "Gonna have to fuckin carry me or somethin' then. I'm not gettin' up." There's a vague mumble about him being "so antagonistic." Before he's hoisted in the air.
Damn, he forget how strong Dazai is despite being so thin.
They sit quietly as the bathtub runs full (steaming hot, just enough to where it stings a little. Just how he likes it) before he turns towards Chuuya's myriad wall of bath products. "What do you want in the tub?" Chuuya contemplates being annoying and ignoring him, but co sidering he's already here, he might as well give in. "Rose and Chamomile." Dazai nods, briefly smelling the container before smiling and pouring it in the bath. "Wish chibi would wear perfumes that smell like this, your cologne tastes only got worse after we met again."
The thought does bring a small smile to Chuuya's face, but it drops as soon as he realizes he's going to have to actually strip to get in.
"Oi mackerel. Get out." Dazai only blinks owlishly before rolling his eyes. "That's not how this works. It's literally like any time before, and I've seen every part of you, stupid." He pauses for a moment with a stare that Chuuya knows means he's being analyzed. "You don't want me to see new scars...ok. If you don't make a big deal out of this, I'll take my bandages off as well, while I'm here.
That makes Chuuya's eyes widen a little in surprise as he looks up at the taller man. He can quite literally count on one hand the amount of times he saw Dazai completely bare, and all of them were for fatal injuries he refused to get help before. To do something like that- "what the hell happened to you?" Dazai only nonchalantly shrugs, facing the water. "Can't a man change chibi? Now just get up and get in so I can wash your back, come on."
It's again quiet as Dazai sits next to him gently scrubbing his back, avoiding the tender scar tissue that's still a bit raw. Chuuya sighs as his muscles untense and sinks further down, making Dazai smile a bit. "Only you would waste so much on a western bath. How much was this?" Chuuya only sinks further, groaning happily when Dazai gets a knot out of his shoulder. "As much money as I make, does it fuckin' matter?" Dazai chuckles lowly, moving to wipe down his arms. "I suppose not" the rest of the bath is peaceful, Dazai helping him out of the bath and drying him down gently before quickly bringing him some more casual clothes. "Hurry up, I'm gonna cook you something small. Have you sobered up a little? I'm making something hearty." Oh that sounds perfect, he is indeed pretty sober. However,, Chuuya can't help but squint at him suspiciously. "Dazai Osamu...cooking? What the hell is happening, you getting therapy or something?" Dazai refuses to turn around and look at him, electing to focus on taking the assorted groceries out of their bags. He keeps shifting his wait from foot to foot though. It's a tell only Chuuya knows about, and it only means one thing: he's really nervous or uncomfortable with whatever he's about to say.
"I have actually. About 2 years now." He pauses to quickly carry the food over to the kitchen and rummage about. "Kunikida was getting too overly worried as always, and he made me go to a therapist. Trusted acquaintance of Yosano's I'm pretty sure. Has never ratted neither The Ada nor the Port Mafia." He locates everything he needs with ease as he continues (Chuuya's heart beats a little at the sight of dazai in his space so comfortably.) "I was obviously a dick at first, I refused to work through anything and it took almost 8 months to make a breakthrough. Definitely a different caliber of genius, that doctor. I'm glad they haven't decided to create any organizations or we'd be given a run for our money." He sits in silence for a minute, and chuuya sees the way his shoulders are tensed and decises to wander behind him, arms snaking around his waist. "I assume you told me that for a particular reason?"
"Well, she said I should talk to some- wait hey, this is supposed to be taking care of you, get the hell off." Chuuya blatantly ignores him, only snuggling further into the taller man's back. "We're both touch starved, no way that I'm moving. But we can hold off the talk for now, you wanna do it after we eat?" "Mmm, I guess I wouldn't mind." Chuuya simply smiles, smothering his face in Dazai's back comfortably.
"Then hurry up and finish, whatever you're making smells surprisingly good considering it's you cooking." Dazai lands a small kick in Chuuya's shin as he huffs. "Asshole, go away. Slugs make messes." Chuuya only kicks him back and walks over to his side closet, arranging some blankets to toss on the couch. It makes him blush a bit self consciously seeing Dazai glance over curiously. He's always preferred the heavy weighted feel of warmth and comfort. He casually changes the channel till he finds some sort of coral reef documentary. Not too triggering, and boring enough for them to focus on eachother.
He decides to chat as the brunette chops up something else, adding it to the pot. "So does that mean you're like, less ah..nevermind, not bein' tactful." Dazai shrugs, smiling easily "suicidal? Well yes, though I doubt that suicide ideation will ever be something that leaves me. It's the first coping mechanism I had. But hm, I guess I have less tendencies. The bandages are just a comfort at this point." Chuuya hums, nodding. "I guess the shit is working then, considering you wouldn't have dared telling me this much." He watches as Dazai plates up whatever he made and walks to the couch. "Well yes Chuuya, it is in fact therapy." "Fuck off-" he's given pause as he sees the plate. "You made pottage? Since when did you-" Dazai cuts him off with a small smile. "You always dragged me to that one French restaurant post corruption. This was like the first thing you ordered when you didn't have something in mind. Andd, Kunikida has been forcefully teaching me how to cook." Chuuya quickly takes a bite, hoping the steam will hide the way his ears tint. "You sure do remember a lot." Dazai
Takes a bite of his own food, looking a little rueful. "I remember a lot about you. Us, in general."
The quiet is peaceful surprisingly, for once not filled with venom or anger. But chuuya is nothing but terrible at letting things go, so he does what he does best: break the peace."so...remembering?" Dazai snorts as if he was expecting the question (which he probably was). "Quickly getting sober the one time I don't need you to, huh? I guess talking now is a good time too." His smile dies off a little as he picks at a loosened bandage. "So, obviously my therapist knows you..a lot, because according to them you were a 'core piece in the formative years of my childhood and it's trauma' or whatever, so. Well." The pauses are unnerving. Dazai has never been unsure or nervous ever, and had this been a few years back he would've fought the brunette over it being some manipulation tactic. But there wasn't anything to manipulate. Chuuya truly didn't have anything to give to him in this moment of being cared for, and that made him anxious. "Dazai spit it out, it can't be that bad." Dazai only nods before speaking again. "So..we talked abt the role you've played in my life and how I potentially feel about that. About you." Wait- there's no way-
"Dazai, don't tell me you're going to say what I think you are." Dazai already anticipates the shorter man's anxious pacing, stepping up to gently take his wrist. "Chuuya, then you already know-" "No, no you can't do this, Osamu. You know I can't."
"Nakahara, just listen to me."
Chuuya feels his lungs seize up as the brunette looks him in the eye. "I have feelings for you Chuuya, and I have for a long time. Now will you please give me a chance?" Chuuya shakes his head, trying to cover the tears starting to build up. "Why not? Give me a good reason. I love you Chuuya, and you love me too, so what's stopping this?" Chuuya's laugh is lifeless and watery. "We're on opposite sides. I'm a mess. You're still not completely alright. You," He quiets down somewhat. "You might leave again, I don't know. I can't trust that it will work out. I can't.."
"You can't trust me, I know. I know this Chuuya, I literally predicted almost every outcome of this conversation, I know it will be hard. Every fucking aspect of our lives have been hard, so just, please. This has been the only nerve-wracking thing I've done in my life. Be honest with me love, yes or no?" Chuuya can't look Dazai in the eye, he feels like if he does, everything in him might shatter.
"Will you stay?"
"Yes Chuuya."
"Will you let me help you?"
"I'll try, always."
"Will you ever tire of me?"
"Never. I promise."
"Then that's all I need to know."
Maybe he can shatter, if it means Dazai will put both of their pieces together.
It's strange, feeling Dazai's bare skin with no bandages. He also knows it's a strange sort of hug, hands under eachothers shirts, Chuuya buried in Dazai's neck. But he needs it, he needs skin to skin contact or he'll feel like he's selecting from his own skin. He feels whole as they slowly move to the couch, Dazai easily pulling him snugly into his lap. He never said his answer out loud, but they both know. Still..."You're gonna cook for me more mackerel." Dazai smiles, twirling ginger locks. "Chibi will have to pay me to be a live-in chef." "Unfair, you're my boyfriend now aren't you?" Dazai uncharacteristically freezes up, breath stuttering. "Mm, we were practically boyfriends for long enough weren't we? Marry me" Chuuya feels his heart give a stutter of its own, but he just presses a kiss to the brunettes cheek. "Fuck no, that would never count. Romance me properly." He looks down at Dazai's eyes, finds himself lost in the warmth.
"I promise I'll do my best Nakahara-san"