Work Text:
It was raining.
The most famous sixteen year olds of the mafia, double black, were on their way; returning from a mission that was actually hard.
Missions were barely hard for them, but on this particular one, the opposing side's abilities were troublesome.
So here they were, walking - no, trying to walk on some gloomy alley.
After using corruption, Chuuya was absolutely wasted. He was barely staying conscious with Dazai trying to keep him from falling face on, an arm on his shoulder, trying to keep him walk so they could at least reach somewhere safe.
He hadn't checked Chuuya's wounds yet, but even if he didn't know how deep they were or how many there are, he had a... Guess, which he thought it was accurate with how painfully Chuuya was groaning or how he wouldn't take another step before Dazai forced him to.
Normally, after the fight, they would just sit there and Chuuya would fall asleep, then Dazai would call for someone to help him to take him to the base. But that day, he had no other option then carrying him like that to somewhere safe, since no one answered his phone. There was so much blood on Chuuya, and at most, only half of it was from the enemy. So he didn't let him sleep, intended to check his wounds but decided that wasn't a safe place and got up to make him walk.
With all those blood he carried on his clothes.
That was why Chuuya, covered in blood, was trying to walk with one of his arms on Dazai for support, barely conscious with deep wounds on god knows where on his body under the fucking rain.
It was raining furiously.
Dazai huffed, frustrated. Everyone who knows him knew that he rarely showed his actual emotions, and that was one of those rare moments. He was furious.
While trying to keep Chuuya steady with his side, he took his phone out with his hand and quickly clicked on the boss' name with trembling fingers.
Oda, Hirotsu and Kouyou were all out for missions, leaving Mori as the only option. It's probably deliberate, Dazai thought. He called him once, right after the fight, but he didn't took the call.
Maybe he would answer this time and get someone to help, or maybe someone to get them to the base.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Well.
Maybe not.
"Fucking hell."
Now he was actually furious.
He knew Mori did that on purpose. Leaving them on their own on a fatal situation like this to... Fucking test them.
He gritted his teeth, swearing to himself that he will make Mori pay for it. But for now, he had to focus on the situation.
They couldn't possibly get to the base or one of their apartments. All of them were too far to walk to.
"Chuuya," he said, a little loudly since rain would block their voices. "There should be an old shelter of mafia around here. I'm taking us there."
Chuuya didn't answer with anything other then a painful groan, legs shaking from, probably, pain. He held his torso with his free hand.
So much blood.
Apparently, he was still bleeding. Dazai furrowed his eyebrows even more, then averted his gaze.
"Can you walk or should I carry you?"
Chuuya wouldn't ever say I can't, especially to Dazai. His pride wouldn't allow it. But he really wasn't able to walk anymore and Dazai could see it.
So the short one, mind barely processing what Dazai said since the pain was screaming at him to just give up and die, didn't reply. Instead, he waited for Dazai to take the hint and carry him already.
He wouldn't be able to get a proper word out even if he wanted to talk, anyways.
"Okay," Dazai replied as if he had heard Chuuya.
So he put one hand under Chuuya's knees, one hand staying behind him, between his shoulders and lifted him up. Chuuya didn't say anything, holding onto Dazai's coat in response.
"Let's go."
The walk wasn't a long one since the said shelter was not really far. Dazai, who's body is already tired from the fight, was struggling while carrying Chuuya. Normally, he used to leave all the brawn work to Chuuya, but since the ability users were hard enough for him, Dazai decided he could take on the back ups.
Like, fifty or sixty of them.
They might be nothing for the great god Arahabaki but Dazai was utterly exhausted because of them and that was why he struggled while carrying the vessel of the said god. Chuuya wasn't heavy or something, if anything, Dazai's limps were burning with exhaustion.
Oh, and of course, his shoulder being dislocated might have had an affect on this.
Actually, that was why Chuuya's feet were on the ground while being carried by Dazai.
If you could call it carrying, of course.
Chuuya should've noticed something was wrong, so he attempted to offer walking but Dazai just shutted him up.
It was just an arm.
The rain was not helping at all. Both of them were all wet and Dazai couldn't see clearly because of the rain.
But he could see all the blood coming out from Chuuya's torso and going down along with the raindrops so clearly.
It wasn't stopping.
He had no choice but to carry on.
So when they went downstairs and entered the shelter, his face broke into dissapointment. He knew there was a shelter there and he knew it was an old one, but he didn't expect it to be that old.
It was like no one stepped inside for fourty years.
A sink, a cabinet and a wooden board with an old blanket on - that was probably supposed to be a bed - stared at him. Those were the only things in the small room along with a few spider webs.
Dazai sighed. He expected something bearable.
But his shoulder was killing him so he just hurried inside and sat Chuuya down on the wooden board with his functional arm carefully.
"We're here," He said while he also sat down and took a deep breath.
He started coughing, though. It was dusty.
Looking at his own arm, Dazai furrowed his eyebrows in frustration. He had to solve that problem.
Quickly.
He couldn't take on that many problems with one arm.
"Dazai," Chuuya tried to talk, his voice was raspy and barely above a whisper. "It's still..."
"I know," Dazai replied. "It's still bleeding. I know. I'll take care of it. Just give me a moment. Hold on."
Chuuya nodded, eyes half-lidded.
He trusted him with his life. He knew the other wouldn't just abandon him to die.
So he kept pressuring the already torn shirt of his to his wound.
Dazai held his dislocated arm with his functional one, sweat dripping from his forehead.
He knew the technique theoretically. He learned it from Mori, but putting it into practice was completely different. Nonetheless, doing it on himself was on another level.
Quick, his inner voice said. Or Chuuya is going to bleed to death.
It was true.
If he didn't hurry, the one who's dying wouldn't be him but the red head.
Dazai, someone who fear rarely hits, was shaking.
It's too much.
It's too much.
I just want to go home.
But he couldn't.
So he held his breath and snapped his arm right back into it's place in one movement.
A scream ripped his throat, making it's way to the dusty floor of the shelter.
He hated pain.
After a moment of getting used to it, he looked at his arm and tried to move it the way he wanted.
He just wiped off the tear trailing down his cheek like nothing happened, then turned to Chuuya.
"All right," Dazai said, taking his knife out of his pocket. "Now let's see your wound."
"Wait," Chuuya panicked, "You..."
"I'm okay, Chuuya," the younger responded. "I won't die."
Unfortunately, stayed unsaid.
"It's already unwearable," Dazai murmured while tearing the red head's blood covered and wet shirt apart from the front. "I'll buy you a new one once we get back."
He held Chuuya's gloved hand, which was pressuring his wound gently and pushed it to the side. Chuuya exhaled shakily when the pressure was gone.
The taller one bared ginger's front and over seeing the huge pool of blood, his eyes went wide for a second.
"Dazai,"
"It's all right."
No need to say that Dazai wasn't good at comforting people, but he was decent at treating wounds since he was the right hand of a doctor.
So Chuuya didn't worry too much about it.
Dazai would find a way.
He always did.
"It's still bleeding," was what Dazai said.
Chuuya tried to ground himself with putting his hand on the board. The pain was unbearable but he couldn't possibly lose consciousness at that moment.
So he took a deep breath.
There was a day to that night.
"I'll look at what we have. You..." Dazai took the blanket and put it over Chuuya's wound. "Pressure it. Keep the blood loss at minimum. I'll see what I can do to stop it."
Chuuya nodded and did as Dazai said.
It was a fairly deep wound. Dazai didn't know how it happened but he wasn't sure if he wanted to.
He went to the cabinet with hurried movements and opened it.
A bottle of disinfectant, a lighter, some dusty bandages, a pocketknife, a few safety pins, a bottle of vaseline and more spider webs stared at him.
It seemed like it was the first time someone opened that cabinet so the disinfectant was probably out of date, other materials seemed usable.
He turned around to look at Chuuya.
His eyes were tightly shut, his wet locks were sticking to his forehead along with the blood and the way he furrowed his eyebrows just gave out the pain he was feeling.
Dazai could see the blood on the blanket.
He had to decide.
Fast.
He expected to find something to stitch his wound, but there were nothing. Even if the materials were enough, Chuuya was losing so much blood, so it wouldn't be fast enough to save him.
He could just bandage him up, but the wound was too deep for that.
So they were out of the options, too.
That left Dazai with no choice.
He huffed. Loudly.
Chuuya opened one of his eyes and side eyed him.
Dazai just wanted to take all of the pain the boy was feeling away.
"Chuuya," he said, "You trust me, right?"
Chuuya nodded after gulping.
"Good."
He turned to the cabinet again and took the lighter.
Testing it a few times, Dazai made sure that it would work properly. He didn't want to make the process slow and painful.
Then he took some metal piece he found in the cabinet and checked it to see if it was rusty. It wasn't, yet it probably wasn't sterile either but Dazai had no other choice. Chuuya could get over an infection easier than bleeding out.
"Okay,"
He went back to Chuuya's side and sat on the wooden board. Eyes not finding the ginger, he looked at the lighter in his hand.
"I have no choice but to cauterize it."
As he lighted the lighter and started heating the metal piece which he held with his coat, other's eyes widened.
"You know what that means, right, Chuuya?"
Chuuya teared his gaze apart from him, looking at somewhere else. He nodded slowly.
"I know we need some... Proper equipment to do it right, but right now, this lighter is the only thing we have. But I promise to make it quick."
Again, Dazai knew the technique, theoretically. He watched Mori do it multiple times. With proper equipment, of course. But in practice, he was left with that old lighter, a metal piece that wasn't sterile and zero experience.
Of course he wasn't going to tell this to Chuuya.
He couldn't handle him panicking at the moment.
Still, he had to make the ginger live.
"Okay," he said, still heating up the piece. "Now open the wound."
Chuuya put the bloody blanket aside and Dazai noticed both of the ginger's hands were trembling.
"Look at me."
Blue locking with brown, Chuuya sighed.
"Stop... Trying to comfort me. I'm not scared or anything."
Dazai chuckled, the laugh not reaching his eyes.
"Of course you're not. Just don't move, all right?"
Despite what he said, Chuuya held onto the other's hand tightly when Dazai grabbed his trembling one with his free one, having just left the lighter aside.
"Now, hold your breath and count to five. I'll be done."
Chuuya, heart beating furiously, nodded once again. He held his breath and gritted his teeth.
After checking him one last time, Dazai moved the now heated metal piece to press on his wound.
One.
The breath Chuuya held didn't last long as a loud scream ripped his throat.
Two.
Dazai tried to stay focused at his job while Chuuya almost broke the hand he held.
Three.
A tear trailed down without permission.
Four.
The wooden board Chuuya put his free hand on cracked.
Five.
"Done," Dazai said, sweat dripping from his face, he took the metal away.
Chuuya inhaled sharply, then groaned. He didn't stop holding the other's hand, instead, he grabbed it even tighter.
Dazai didn't look at his face. Instead, he focused on the wound he just sealed.
"Looks decent." he said, while listening to Chuuya's unstable breathing and painful sounds he let out. "You did well."
"Still, I guess I burned a bit more then I was supposed to." he added.
The ginger groaned, his eyes never opening once.
A small smile that didn't reach the eyes formed on Dazai's lips.
"I got you," he said, "I'll treat it properly now. If you can set my hand free."
With that, Chuuya loosened his hold, allowing Dazai to take his hand back. He, then, opened his eyes.
"It's... 'kay," he said, "Just... Leave it like that."
"You really don't know anything about medicine, right?"
When Chuuya didn't answer, Dazai put on that fake smile one more time. "Then leave it to me."
He was tired. Both mentally and physically.
Yet, he was still standing. Because Chuuya couldn't.
Taking his knife out, he cut a clean piece from the blanket.
"I'll wash it, then put it on your burns. Stay still."
Chuuya nodded once again and closed his eyes.
Dazai stood up and walked to the sink, hoping that the faucet would work.
Well, technically, it did. If it didn't broke the moment Dazai tried to open it, it would've worked.
Now Dazai was wet, again, with the water bursting out of the broken faucet. Trying to stop it coming to his face while washing the piece of blanket with one hand, he tried to hold the tap and close it with the other.
Once the piece of cloth was wet enough, he grabbed the tap tightly and tried to close it with everything he had.
It was stuck.
"Fuck it."
Whatever.
Dazai just kicked the wall while letting out a groan and went back to the red head obediently sitting at the wooden board.
"I'll look at it. Later."
He sat beside Chuuya once again, hand going to clean the burns with the wet blanket while he just stopped.
"Chuuya?"
Chuuya opened one of his eyes, slightly shaking.
"What?"
"Are you cold?"
Averting his gaze, Chuuya looked at his wound.
"No."
Dazai smiled slightly, tucking a few of the ginger locks behind Chuuya's ear.
"You're shaking."
The red head stayed silent.
After a few seconds, he spoke, voice coming out raspy.
"Of course you're... Not cold in all those layers. Damn it."
Using a lot of his energy on healing his wound, Chuuya was cold. Damn, he was freezing. After walking under the rain for minutes and then sitting with his upper body bared, he felt the biting cold of december even more, shaking with the sensation.
Dazai laughed slightly while putting the wet piece on Chuuya's burnt skin.
Chuuya hissed, one of his hands going to the wooden board to ground himself while the other grabbed Dazai's wrist.
"It's not just the layers," the bandaged boy said, "You lost so much blood. Keep this here for me, hm?"
Dazai felt water entering his shoes since he couldn't close the tap before.
He got up while putting the whole blanket Chuuya's shoulders, leaving the bloody side out and cutting it with his knife.
"Here," he said before walking towards the sink. Chuuya held the wet cloth on his burns with one hand while he pulled the blanket to cover himself a little more with the other.
Dazai closed the tap easily this time, thinking it was probably because he was a little more relaxed now.
"All right," he said, "Now let me check to see if the bandages I just saw in the cabinet are usable or not."
"Leave it," Chuuya murmured. He didn't want to trouble anyone anymore. "I can do it myself when we're back."
"There's no way I'm letting you."
"Why are you acting like you care so much all of a sudden?" Chuuya's words were out of any actual bite since he was so tired.
Dazai flinched, one of his eyebrows going up.
He turned to Chuuya.
"Are you stupid?"
What?
This time, Chuuya was the one flinching.
"What?"
"It's because I care, Chuuya."
Chuuya blinked.
"No you don't."
"No I do," Dazai put one of his hands on his hip. "If I didn't, I'd leave you to bleed to death."
"You wouldn't."
"That's because I care, really, what's gotten into you? Did you hit your head during the fight or something? Or maybe being so close to the floor finally started to damage your braincells."
Dazai's voice wasn't in his usual mocking tune. Instead, it came out bored. He walked towards him and bent over, his coat getting wet on the floor.
"Seriously, why are you still in denial?"
Chuuya's breath hitched.
"Denial?"
"Yeah, why?"
The ginger didn't answer. He just kept his gaze locked to the other's.
He could hear the raindrops tapping outside.
What kind of denial was Dazai talking about?
The said man huffed.
"Well, I guess it can't be helped. Until you get out of that phase and move onto the next step, though, just keep in mind that I care about you." He, then, stood up and turned around to go to the cabinet once again. A silent dumbass could be heard.
Chuuya's face flushed red.
Perhaps it was because of the freezing cold.
Or perhaps, he was really, really in denial.
Whatever.
Either way, he pressured the wet cloth to his burnt skin harder.
It felt relieving.
Dazai came back with his hands full of bandages.
"I'll take the bandages we don't use home, they look actually usable. Do you know how expensive those are these days? It's not like the mafia comes here often, anyways. We might even be the first ones stepping inside."
Chuuya watched him closely as he sat down beside him.
He might just be glad that Dazai was with him at the moment.
It was not just the fact that he would be dead if the taller one wasn't here. Despite how he always says otherwise, the other's presence gave Chuuya a weird type of comfort, too. Especially at those moments which he felt helpless.
The other was always there.
That was where his trust came from.
He kept watching Dazai as the other moved his blanket to patch him up.
"Am I so stunning that you can't take your eyes off of me?" was what he said.
"You look like shit." was what Chuuya said in response.
Dazai laughed at that, moving Chuuya's hand holding the wet piece of fabric.
"Says you."
When he started to wrap the bandage around Chuuya, the ginger moved along with him to make it easier.
"The disinfectant was out of date and since we don't have anything like antiseptic or even alcohol, I couldn't clean it properly. Bear with it for now. When we get back, I'll deal with it. Well, not just the wound, we both need a proper bath after this."
"Dazai," Chuuya called while moving forward for the other to wrap the white fabric around him, "Do you hate me?"
Dazai laughed at that. Chuuya didn't see his face, but he could tell.
Still not genuine.
"What do you think? Do I hate you?"
Chuuya gulped.
"Don't answer me with questions, bastard."
"Don't ask me dumb questions then," Dazai responded while binding the bandages on Chuuya's back.
The red head became quiet after that.
That didn't last long, though.
"Screw it, I'm trying to fucking communicate and you're not even allowing it!"
He hissed as his wound felt so deep for a moment with his sudden rage.
"Careful now," Dazai said, finishing his job as he moved back to face the ginger. "Just because you're patched up doesn't mean you recovered. Don't do sudden moves."
"Right," Chuuya replied, despite his anger.
"But why aren't you answering me properly? I'm trying to make things certain."
"Chuuya," Dazai moved closer to the red head's face, ignoring his personal space and leaving a few inches between them. Chuuya tried to back out instinctively, but didn't break eye contact.
"You ask me if I hate you while I'm taking care of you. Do you think that's rational?"
Chuuya, letting out a shaky breath, responded hesitantly. "Maybe I want to hear it from you."
Dazai smirked.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
He shouldn't have said that.
"You want to hear what from me, exactly?"
Chuuya put his hand on Dazai's stupid face and pushed him.
"Fuck you."
Dazai chuckled.
"The night started pretty badly, didn't it?"
"Yeah," Chuuya replied, looking at the upstairs leading to the street. "It's still raining outside."
"Hmm," Dazai said, leaning his back against the wall, sitting right next to Chuuya.
"It's almost like someone stole the stars tonight."
Chuuya would mock him for that poetic sentence if it was any other situation.
Just for that night, though, he agreed with him.
His eyelids started to feel heavy.
"Does it hurt?" Dazai asked.
"Yeah. But it's bearable now."
"You can't walk, right?"
"Absolutely not. No."
Dazai huffed.
"You look so tired."
"Because I am."
"I guess we'll stay here a little longer, so..." He patted his lap. "Come on."
Chuuya hesitated at first, but knowing the other wouldn't stab him while he's sleeping, he listened to his begging sleepy self and let himself rest his head on the other's lap.
It was still wet from the rain, but it didn't really matter since his eyelids betrayed him first and he gave up on keeping his eyes open.
The blanket has been wrapped around him gently.
He felt the other's damaged fingers roaming around his head, running through his blood covered, dirty ginger locks and coming to touch his absolutely-not-soft-after-the-fight cheek once in a while.
Dazai watched him silently.
Chuuya was just about to give in to sleep when the other spoke softly.
"Chuuya?"
He just hummed, saying nothing in response since he was on the brink of the sleep.
"I love you."
And that was how Chuuya said bye to the sleep he's been longing for.
He opened his eyes wide and froze, his mouth gaped but nothing came out of it.
And that bastard Dazai fucking chuckled.
What the fuck was happening?
"Didn't you say you wanted to hear it from me?" Chuuya couldn't see him but he could fucking hear his smirk. "Why are you so shocked now?"
Chuuya kept his quiet but shocked state.
"Hello, earth to Chuuya, are you there?"
When he didn't respond, Dazai held his face and turned it upwards, facing him.
Seeing the red head's face the same color as his hair was what he expected, anyways.
He fucking giggled at that.
"All right, I genuinely think you have to sleep now."
Chuuya blinked one time.
Two times.
As many as he needs to be sure that he wasn't dreaming.
"You..."
"What, you want a good night kiss now?"
Hearing that, Chuuya suddenly inhaled, pushing Dazai's face with his hand.
"Hey, okay, okay! Just sleep, then. I'll wake you up when we're ready to go."
That was all Chuuya needed to close his eyes once more and escape the reality.
Because he really didn't have the proper mental health to deal with stupid Dazai's stupid declaration of love at such a stupid time.
Turning his back to Dazai, he tried to sleep.
Well.
If only it was that easy.
Thinking about that fucking moment he just lived, he buried his burning face in the blanket, trying to calm himself down.
Despite the freezing cold, his body felt like it was on fire.
He kept turning right and left to stop it, but it didn't work.
"Stop moving too much, Chuuya, I'm trying to sleep too. Plus, your wounds are gonna open."
He groaned into the fabric he buried his face to and made himself smaller then he would ever be before stopping his movements.
"Good."
It was stupid.
Like, so stupid.
Yet, that was what made it comfortable.
A few minutes passed in silence and that was when the duo couldn't hear the raindrops hitting the floor anymore.
Their stars were back.