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Some missions are more enjoyable than others. In Dazai's opinion, a great example of an enjoyable mission would be tonight’s mission. For a sixteen year old boy with raging hormones, being sent on an undercover mission at a popular club frequented by the rich and richer, where the drinks are all on the house and all he needed to do was seduce the young and naive daughter of a rival organisation into spilling incriminating information, it was like being told hey kid, take my credit card and buy anything that you want. And to sweeten the deal even more, said girl was quite the beauty. Petite with shoulder-length auburn curls, slim waist that fits perfectly into his hands. One who was more than willing to make out with him on the dance floor.
If not for that one tiny nuisance - his annoying chibi shadowing him to make sure that he does not do anything stupid - Dazai would have deemed tonight as one of the best missions that he had. Leave it to Chuuya to spoil his mood by roughly grabbing onto his shoulder mid-kiss. “Mori called.” He hisses at Dazai, loud enough so that Dazai can hear him, discreet enough for the girl to stare at them with a befuddled look. “Time to wrap this up.”
“Sorry darling.” Chuuya says to the girl, ignoring her glare at being interrupted. “But unfortunately you need to find someone else to take you home tonight.” Without waiting for a response, he forcefully drags Dazai off the dance floor. He is tempted to knock Chuuya out and head back to the dance floor. But he knows better than to start a fight with an impatient dog on a crowded dance floor.
“Ugh.. Did you have to suck her face for so long?” Chuuya complains loudly as they reach the corridor leading to the back exit of the club. Dazai’s eyes are still adjusting to the sudden brightness, the reverberating music still echoes in his ears. “Come on, slowpoke. We are leaving.”
“What’s the rush? I was having so much fun.” He whines out.
Chuuya only quickened his pace. “You’ve already gotten the intel that we need. Let’s get out of here. We still need to report to Mori and I am late meeting up with the Flags.” Chuuya throws the back door open and disappears from view. A gust of cold air hits Dazai’s in the face. He really despises the slug right now.
Chuuya may be quick on his feet, but Dazai has the advantage of possessing longer limbs. He catches up to Chuuya as he turns into an alley. A taunting laugh escapes his mouth as he corners Chuuya against a wall. “Is Chuuya jealous?” He doesn't appreciate being ordered around by Chuuya and he is sure as hell going to make his displeasure known. “Was that why you dragged me away?”
“Why the fuck would I be jealous?” He practically spats out the words. Like poison on his tongue. “You’re just wasting time by acting like a horny bastard.”
Dazai laughs again, loud and condescending. “Of course you’re jealous.” Taking in the flash of anger in Chuuya’s eyes, he continues on. “Because girls prefer me.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?” The loud chatter from a bunch of drunken frat boys stumbling past the alley does nothing to mask the frustration in Chuuya’s voice. No one spares them a glance. Both of them stew in silence until the laughter dissipates into the night, taking along with it the crackling tension in the air. That is until Dazai opens his mouth to speak again.
See, that’s the problem with Dazai. He just doesn’t know when to shut up.
“Well, you should.” He sneers. Dazai loves to push and prod when it comes to the redhead. Because an angry Chuuya, for some inexplicable reason, is strangely endearing. Brows furrowed in rage, hands clenched in a fist, a snarl escaping his lips. Lips that have been tainted red by the wine that Chuuya must have been sipping throughout the night while waiting for Dazai. “Chuuya is such a short-tempered brute. No girls would want to kiss you.”
“I don’t fucking care!” He all but yells out. Clearly, Chuuya was neither drunk nor stupid enough to attract unwanted attention.
“What? Is that all you have to say?” Dazai asks, head tilted to the side, a picture of faux innocence. “You wouldn’t even know what to do if someone wanted to kiss you. And you’re probably going to slobber all over them like a dog.”
A provocation. An extremely pointless one at that. Yet for some reason, Chuuya brings out the child in Dazai. To live a life with no regrets by throwing caution to the wind. To go against what his brain is telling him, following his heart instead. Even if he knows that it will come back to bite him. Because when he is around the redhead, everything feels just a bit more exhilarating. He feels a tiny bit more alive.
An annoyed tch as Chuuya glares at Dazai. Dazai can tell that Chuuya is all riled up and ready to pounce. He looks torn between punching him in the face or kicking him in the balls. Except that Chuuya doesn’t do one or the other. Instead he bites his lower lips, slumps back against the wall. A little bit exasperated, and a whole lot of barely contained rage. Dazai watches curiously as Chuuya exhales once, twice. Successfully reining in his temper, he fumbles around his pockets, and lets out another huff when he finally pulls a pack of cigarettes out from his jeans. Stares intently as Chuuya lights it up with a flick of his lighter, illuminating his sharp features. Leaving Dazai just a tad breathless at the sight in front of him.
It’s funny what a year does to a person. Dazai has gone from tall to taller, while Chuuya went from slim to unfairly lean. Muscles in all the right places, usually hidden under his clothes but blatantly obvious right this moment. It’s hard not to stare when a sleeveless tee paired with tight ripped jeans showcased the result of Chuuya’s endless hours in the gym. The smooth lines of his bicep shifts as he takes a drag of his cigarette. The way his jeans hugs his thighs, almost like it has been painted on. Dazai wonders what it would feel like to run his fingers along every curve, every dip, until milky white is littered with splotches of purple, red and blue.
Suddenly he can’t remember the name and the face of the girl he was kissing just moments ago.
Suddenly he is not so sure anymore that it’s only girls that he is interested in.
He blinks. Trying to make sense of his thoughts.
Blinks again and realises that he has been caught staring. An amused look flashes past Chuuya’s face as he slowly straightens himself up and flicks his cigarette onto the ground. Even at his full height, Chuuya is still a head shorter than Dazai. But that doesn’t stop the sudden rush of reverence flooding over Dazai. A lock of red curls fall over Chuuya’s face as he glances down, stubbing out his cigarette with his foot.
Taking a step closer to Dazai, Chuuya asks calmly, “Do you want to know why I don’t give a fuck if girls prefer you more than me?” His breath is warm against his neck. Sending a jolt of electricity coursing through Dazai as it sweeps away the chill of the night.
He feels his throat constricting. “Why?” He finally breathes out into the sparse space between them. Hypnotising blue eyes command him to listen carefully. Full lips which all of a sudden look extremely inviting. Dazai wets his lips nervously.
Chuuya flashes him a devastatingly wicked grin. “Because I am not interested in girls.”
And the implication behind that declaration hits Dazai like a sledgehammer.
“So… you’re… are you…” He stumbles over his words, the same way his brain fumbles for an appropriate response without sounding like an idiot.
“The fact that you haven’t figured it out by now, I honestly think that you are undeserving of being called the Demon Prodigy.”
His ego is bruised, his head hurts. So instead of a smart comeback, he settles on, “Does anyone else know?”
“Ane-san figured it out quite early on.” He hums. Softly, soothing to the ears. “So did Tross after that. The rest of the Flags, I told them.”
How the hell did Albatross figure it out? Ane-san is intelligent, perceptive. Nothing gets past her. But Albatross? He is not dumb but he’s definitely not the first Mafia member you would call upon to discuss strategy with.
Chuuya’s lip twitches in amusement. “You’re surprised that Tross figured it out and you didn’t. Well, don’t feel bad. After all, he had an advantage. A rather unfair one, I must say.” As if that explains anything. As though Dazai would take the bait and ask what it was.
He meets Chuuya’s gaze, and takes a deep breath. “Which was?” He asks as nonchalantly as he could.
Without missing a beat, “I kissed him.” Uttered in an infinitely more nonchalant tone than Dazai.
Three simple words. One ugly emotion.
This is precisely why Dazai dislikes this finicky concept called feelings. Feelings muddle your thoughts, make you want to do stupid things. Feelings cause you to lose control and Dazai does not like losing control. Especially when the redhead is involved.
“You kissed him.” He mutters out, his expression darkening. Words that tasted bitter as they left his mouth.
The air around him feels heavy, oppressive. And the knowing glint in Chuuya’s eyes signals that he feels it too and that he knows exactly what sort of emotion Dazai is experiencing right now.
“Him and a few other people too. If I didn’t experiment, how else would I have been able to know for sure?” He replies easily, adding fuel to fire. “Oh.” He muses, and proceeds to throw Dazai’s earlier accusation back at him. “Is Dazai jealous?”
“Why would I be jealous? Who would want to kiss you?” He says with a dismissive shrug. It looks and sounds convincing enough. To anyone else but Chuuya.
Chuuya doesn’t call him out on it. At least, not all of it. Instead, he says, “Whoever said anything about kissing me?”
And it irks Dazai to no end how flushed his cheeks feel right now. Whatever retort that he had planned was completely forgotten when Chuuya made a show of slowly licking his lips. Taking pleasure in watching Dazai trying to maintain his composure. A chuckle slipped past his lips. It takes all of Dazai’s self-restraint to not lean forward and shut Chuuya up.
“Do you want to know something?” Chuuya asks as he pushes past Dazai, shoulder bumping into Dazai’s chest. The brief contact leaves a burn under the thin fabric of Dazai’s shirt.
“What?” He asks dumbly, watching Chuuya walk away.
Looking over his shoulders, a wide grin on his face, “Just so you know, girls and boys love kissing me.”