Work Text:
Staring somewhere distantly with his unbandaged eye, Dazai absentmindedly dragged his finger along the rim of his whiskey glass. He was alone at the bar this time, which oddly felt unusual, despite Dazai not being one to be bothered by loneliness. However, this kind of loneliness was much more permanent. His mind kept replaying the scene from a few hours ago, holding Odasaku’s body, seeing his blood staining his hand. It couldn’t help but feel like a sign that it was his fault. He should’ve been smarter, he should’ve figured out Mori’s plans earlier.
It is an irrational train of thought, but Dazai can’t help but put some of the blame onto himself. As for Ango, the mere thought of him made him clench the whiskey glass, almost hard enough to break it. While it was tempting to do so, and have large pieces of glass shards cut into his hand, he held back. Ango deserved a huge amount of the blame in Dazai’s eyes, being the traitorous scum that he is.
It felt weird. Their friendship, one that should’ve never happened considering their positions in the Port Mafia, disappearing without a trace, as if it had never existed. The only proof of it left was the photograph they had taken at the bar a few nights prior to the conflict with Mimic. Looking back, he knew something bad would happen after that, it’s why he asked to take the photo in the first place. He knew it would be the last time they ever got a chance to do so.
Dazai knew that thinking of ways he could’ve stopped this from happening, ways that he could save Odasaku, was pointless. However, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to stop his brain from working. It was infuriating and exhausting.
Which is what led him to the bar. His last hope in quieting his mind was getting drunk. It wasn’t something Dazai did often, especially considering his alcohol tolerance is inhumanely high. But, even he had his limits, and tonight he planned on going way beyond them. He picked up the whiskey glass that he had been staring at, swallowing its content in an instant. The bartender refilled his glass right away, without Dazai even needing to say anything. He considered the possibility that the bartender could read his mind and sympathised with him for a moment, before realising how ridiculous that sounded.
After a few more glasses in, he finally felt the buzzing of the alcohol in his mind. It wasn’t enough to fully get him drunk, but his mind did quiet down, even if just a little.
He heard the front door open and close, followed by the sound of steady footsteps making their way down the staircase, leading into the bar. He didn’t bother to turn around and check who the new guest was, too busy with his own thoughts. He didn’t really care for the person’s arrival, even when the chair beside him was pulled back and the person sat right next to him. That is, until he heard the “stranger’s” voice.
“Strange to see you here by yourself, did ya get in a fight with your friends?” Chuuya’s tone did not have any indication that he knew about what had transpired yet. It makes sense, Odasaku was the lowest ranking member after all, and Dazai doubts the news about Ango will be shared to anyone in the organisation, not even the executives.
Dazai turned on his bar stool to face him, his face not letting up any clues on what had happened. He deflected Chuuya’s question with his own.
“And it is unusual to see you here at all , chibi. You certainly didn’t come here because of the wine, I know your personal collection is far more broad, so what brings you here?” he spoke indifferently. Chuuya noticed that both of his eyes were now visible, the bandages on his right eye missing. A strange sense of dread fills the redhead’s stomach, but he doesn’t comment about it.
Chuuya lets out a sigh. He’s aware that Dazai is deflecting his question, meaning it is pointless to try to find out. The redhead has learned on multiple occasions that it is better to let Dazai simply tell him at his own pace, so he decided to let it go. He processed the brunette’s question for a short while, before finally answering.
“I fucked up on a mission, five of my men died.” Chuuya stated simply, and he would believe he was giving a mission report to the boss, if it wasn’t for him cussing in the middle of it. Dazai knows how accidents like that affect Chuuya, who is a tad bit too empathetic for his own good. He always cares for his subordinates more than he should, so when any of them die, Chuuya always grieves as if they were his family and blames himself for it.
“Ah, so you came here to drink your troubles away too, hm?” Dazai said with a small smile, that it seemed to be genuine, though you can never know when it comes to Dazai. Chuuya raises an eyebrow at the implication that the younger is doing the same, but he doesn’t question it. He wordlessly takes a sip of the drink placed in front of him.
They sat there in silence, each tending to their own drink. After a while, Dazai turned to look at Chuuya with a playful glint in his eyes. The redhead feels a pair of eyes on him, so he hesitantly turns his head to face the younger. “What is it now?”
Dazai doesn’t answer. He reaches behind the bar counter and pulls out a bottle of vodka. He looks at Chuuya, his smirk growing as he finally speaks, “I bet I can handle more shots than you.”
Chuuya is aware he is destined to failure, knowing how high Dazai’s alcohol tolerance is, and how much of a lightweight he is himself. Even so, the brunette wasn’t wrong earlier, he did come here to get drunk. He contemplates for a short moment, before deciding to fuck it.
“Oh yeah, bastard? I’d like to see that, bring it on!” The redhead yelled, a playful smirk on his face, similar to Dazai’s. The younger one doesn't answer. He places two shot glasses in front of himself, filling them with vodka. He pushes one towards Chuuya, face painted with interest.
Chuuya doesn’t pay him any mind as he grabs the shot and downs it in a second. He slams the shot glass on the counter, and Dazai follows by drinking his own, though much less hurriedly than Chuuya, taking a few seconds to appreciate the slight sweetness.
The redhead rolls his eyes at that. He slides his glass back to Dazai, signalling him to pour another. The brunette laughs at Chuuya’s impatience and pours another two shots for the both of them. Again, he slides it towards Chuuya, who just swallows it speedily. It’s Dazai’s turn to roll his eyes.
“You’re doing it wrong, Chibi!”, the brunette complains “You’re supposed to savour it slowly! I’d expect you to know, considering your tastes for exorbitantly priced wine.”
As if to demonstrate, he takes his own shot, and makes a show of slowly drinking it and relishing the liquid running down his throat. Chuuya glared at Dazai, but he still did what the other said. The delicate sweetness felt quite pleasant. They repeated the pattern a few more times, and Chuuya was already almost fully drunk. Abruptly, Dazai spoke up again. The mischievous glint in his eyes was an obvious sign that what he was about to say will make Chuuya’s life hell.
Dazai pushes the bottle of vodka, from which he had been pouring their shots, towards Chuuya, “Tell you what, slug? If you can finish this bottle by yourself, I’ll admit defeat. Sounds tempting, no?”
Chuuya eyes the brunette suspiciously, “And if I don’t win? You never make a bet without wanting something as a prize, so what’s the catch? What do you want?”
Dazai chuckles at Chuuya’s squinting expression, clearly trying to figure out his ulterior motives. The redhead’s cheeks are flushed from the alcohol, but he still seems to be relatively conscious.
“Oh, so little trust in me,” Dazai professed, faking hurt, “I don’t always want something in return. Besides, seeing Chuuya embarrass himself while drunk is plenty enough.”
Chuuya gives him a disbelieving squint, not fooled by him for a second. Despite the fact that doing so will probably take up a place on among the ‘top ten most idiotic things he has done because of Dazai’ once he wakes up tomorrow, Chuuya goes through with it anyway.
“Tch, fine. I’ll wipe that smug look off of your face real soon!”
That’s all the redhead says before he grabs the bottle and starts drinking straight from it, earning himself a very amused expression from Dazai. He takes a few breaks, becoming less and less self aware after each one. Chuuya finally finishes the bottle and slams it down on the table, almost breaking the bottle with the accidental amount of force he used.
The bottle was already half empty, but even then it was plenty enough to have Chuuya end up in an entirely intoxicated state. All of his senses felt heightened and yet weak at the same time. He turned his head to Dazai, who was barely able to stifle his laughter. The redhead grumbled something and the younger boy finally cracked, unable to contain himself anymore.
“Ahahahahaha! You actually went through with it! Man, the hangover you’re gonna have tomorrow is going to kill you!” Dazai laughed even louder, eyes closed, almost falling off of his stool.
And it’s while Chuuya is watching the brunet, that he feels like he’s been hit by a truck . He’s only had two or three occasions where he was able to see Dazai genuinely laugh so hard. Realizing that it’s because of Chuuya , that his partner is laughing like this, he can’t even bring himself to be mad about the jabs he’s throwing his way. What’s more, his intoxicated mind decided to betray him at that moment, making him suddenly aware of how pretty Dazai looks while showing sincere joy. He couldn’t help but stare at the way his overgrown bangs fall over his closed eyes and the dimples in his cheeks while he grinned. His face flushed and his heartbeat sped up, this time not having anything to do with the alcohol.
And then, Chuuya makes the regretful decision of grabbing Dazai’s tie and yanking him forward, the rational part of his brain long forgotten. Dazai flails his arms before grabbing the counter to hold himself up, leaving the other one with nowhere to land but on Chuuya’s thigh. He gapes at the redhead, looking like a deer caught in headlights. The gap between them is almost nonexistent, everything becoming suddenly warmer. Even so, the taller boy quickly replaces the shock on his face with a smug expression and acts as if this was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Well, who would’ve guessed you’d win? Certainly not me considering your pathetic alcohol tolerance. So, are you going to claim your prize any time soon, or do you plan on dragging it out in order to keep bringing up the fact you actually won for once?”
As casual as Dazai’s expression is, he’s obviously affected by the proximity of the two. He’s trying to talk his way out of it and regain control of the situation.
But Chuuya won’t let him. Not this time.
“Oh, I’ll claim my prize alright.”
Dazai doesn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before he’s being pulled in even further by the older boy, closing the distance between them. His eyes are saucers and his lips stay unmoving against Chuuya’s. But that only lasts for a second, before Dazai swiftly grabs the redhead’s collar tightly. His lips move with intense fervor, and it’s Chuuya’s turn to be surprised. The kiss was more intoxicating than all of the alcohol the redhead had drank beforehand.
Dazai is not sure how much time has passed, it could’ve been minutes or even hours. Chuuya is the first one to pull away, prompted by the lightheadedness from the alcohol and lack of air. The sight that the brunette is greeted with was more captivating than any artwork ever created.
Chuuya was looking at him with tired half lidded eyes, face thoroughly flushed and his swollen lips slightly parted. Dazai made sure to carefully take in every detail, not wanting to ever forget this moment. They continued to gaze at each other, before the taller boy tried to break the silence.
“Chuuya, I-“ Dazai began, though he didn’t get a chance to finish. Chuuya slumped forward onto Dazai, the alcohol finally catching up to him. The brunette let out a sharp huff and caught the now passed out redhead onto his lap. He sat motionless, his mind running a thousand miles per hour.
Yes, he was aware that he harbored certain affections towards the boy in his lap, but he always brushed it off as simply being intrigued by his ability. He knew deep down that their bond was far more than that, but he didn’t want to admit the vulnerability that those feelings brought. He couldn’t allow himself to wish for anything more, knowing that he would inevitably lose it, just like everything else he found worth wanting.
Dazai lets out a long sigh and manoeuvres the shorter boy off of him so that he can stand up. If it was any other circumstance, he would’ve probably doodled on his face and left him there, then would have proceeded to run away from a raging Chuuya chasing him around the Port Mafia halls the day after. But not tonight.
He hauled the shorter boy onto his back, cursing his lack of physical strength. Luckily, Chuuya’s apartment was nearby, considering the fact this was a Mafia owned bar. The streets were much more quiet and empty compared to the daytime, the only sound being Dazai’s steps. He could feel the redhead’s breath on his neck and tiny raindrops once he got close to the building Chuuya’s apartment was in.
Once he was inside, he walked straight into the elevator, not paying any mind to the questioning look from the security guard. He pushed the button for the fifteenth floor and chuckled slightly at the choice. Of course Chuuya would make sure he has the best view out of his apartment.
The elevator rang to signal that they had arrived at the right floor and Dazai stepped out. He walked towards Chuuya’s front door and placed him sitting down against the wall beside it. The brunette reached into his pockets for the key that Chuuya let him have after the fifth time Dazai broke his lock.
He carried the older boy in and took off both of their shoes, remembering how angry he got the last time Dazai walked in without taking them off.
He carried the redhead towards the bedroom and gently placed him on the bed. Dazai took off Chuuya’s coat and harness, leaving him in only his white dress shirt and black slacks.
He went to the bathroom to grab a glass of water and something for his hangover the next morning. Dazai opened the medicine cabinet and felt an ache in his chest when he saw rolls of his brand of bandages in there. Memories of Chuuya frantically cleaning his cuts and wrapping them up when he showed up on the redhead’s front door after an attempt flashed through his mind. Even though he was yelling at the brunette the entire time, Dazai could see the worry that painted his face.
He grabbed an ibuprofen and walked back to the bedroom to place the water and pill on his bedside table. His gaze then travelled towards Chuuya’s sleeping figure, noticing the rise of his chest at every breath. Dazai leaned over him, his shallow breaths ghosting the redhead’s face. The taller boy pressed a featherlight kiss against Chuuya’s lips, “I’m sorry” he whispers, before standing back up.
Dazai walked towards the door of the bedroom and turned towards Chuuya one last time. The tiny raindrops from a few minutes ago turned into a full downpour, loudly tapping against the windows of the redhead’s room.
While he looked at Chuuya, he couldn’t help but wonder if they could’ve been something more if things were a little different. Maybe things could’ve been just a little more beautiful. But he never got the answer to that question.
Because Dazai left the Port Mafia that night.