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милый.-Sweet,sweetheart,dear,darling,ect. A common pet name. (pronounced me-we)
The night is cold and bleak, nothing but the moon and wind giving company to the man who sat atop the lone roof. The gentle breezes passing him by like whispers left unsaid.
‘This’ He thought, with a hint of joy, ‘this is where i will end my life’ the thought finishes, a common one in the head of the man. He beamed inside his mind, knowing that the worth of living would be nothing, as it already was, and the worth of dying would be everything, as it always had been.
Dazai, as was the man's name, swung his legs over the roof’s edge, putting himself closer to what he desired. An excitement bubbled in his chest, With the thing he yearned for so close, calling to him like an unseen lover in the distance.
There was no beautiful woman waiting to die by his side,but perhaps this fate was his alone to realize. Dazai, of course, wasn't stupid.
He knew the great sadness his death would bring the agency, and those around him. No matter how little those seemed to care for him,they would mourn his death.
This was all well solidified in Dazais mind,after many talks from those at the agency, all telling him the same tedious things. Dazai however could not bring himself to care. Months had been spent chasing this high brought upon by the lowest of lows. Now,as it was in the palm of his hand where all he had to do was grip it, he couldn't deny the dark part of himself that longed for his own death.
His fate sat in front of him,waiting,watching. Soon to be followed.
The quiet sound of a door opening, sliding across the ground, hinges whining in defiance, pulls Dazai from these dark thoughts.
He looks to the source of the sound,the tall man standing in the doorway,stepping into the emptiness of the roof. He closes the door behind him,the same hinges silent this time around,as to not disturb the moment between the two men. Dazai is looked down upon by the other man,and he meets the others eyes, Looking for a hint of sorrow or pity, to which he finds none. Insead he only finds interest, a warm sense of home. There's a silence for a long second while they stare, not a single word to say crossing their minds.
That silence,like all silences,must be broken,and it is as Dazai takes a small breath.
“Fedya.”Dazai greets. The man looking upon him,Fyodor, is not expected,but neither is he unexpected. He is not surprising or unsurprising either. He simply is here,now in Dazais presence. No questions were asked about how the russian found Dazai. Perhaps Dazai didn't want to know,perhaps he didn't even care.
Because no matter how or why,Fyodor was here now,and for that Dazai was both grateful and annoyed. It was not the first time the two had met under such circumstances, and Dazai imagines it wouldn't be the last. He already knew that Fyodor's appearance meant his life would continue on from this night.
“Osamu.”The response is blunt,short, As Fyodor tended to be often. Dazai would expect nothing less from the man,as he was not a big talker. Fyodor much preferred to listen. He approaches slowly,one foot carefully set in front of the other. Each step is planned and precise as he makes his way to Dazai. Dazai admires the way Fyodor moves,as if his every breath is a piece to play in a game.
“Have you come to end your life with mine?” Dazai teases,though the idea sends a rush through his bones akin to the chill of horror,yet so far detached from that same feeling that Dazai can only compare it to that of excitement.
“No.”Comes the short response from Fyodor,before he continues “I’ve come to chat.” He sits close to Dazai,legs tucked away to his side, a healthy amount of space between his form and the edge of the building. “Or rather,” a brief pause “I've come to listen” His head tilts to the side gently “I wish for you to talk” This arrangement,as it was, was nothing unfamiliar. Nights like these were common between the two men. Ones where Dazai would endlessly ramble to Fyodor,who would only nod along to show his engagement, with the occasional comment slipping past his lips.
As Dazai noted before,Fyodor was never one to talk much on nights like these.
“I think,”Dazai says playfully,swinging his head to the side. “You're just always out to stop me from doing whatever it is I do,no matter what that is.” He looks back out to the open sky before him “Is that it Dostoevsky?” ”The tease from Dazai,to anyone else,may have been a death sentence in front of the russian. Fyodor,however, smiles gently.
“Precisely. I live to disrupt your efforts no matter the action”Fyodor gives a small laugh,smiling just for a moment. “Speak your mind,why do you find yourself up here at nearly one in the morning?” Of course there was nothing to be said,as Fyodor already knew everything that Dazai was thinking. He always did. The two were often considered,in some ways, identical. One in the same in their ways of thought. They truly thought the same way and were the only ones who could truly keep up with each other.
It was a game of chess that only the two knew the rules of, with an upside down board and all the pieces painted the same color.
‘“Oh you know Fedya. I’m up here enjoying the scenery” Comes Dazies response, thick with a playful undertone. This only causes Fyodor to playfully shake his head in return. He glances away from Dazai and to his pocket,where he reveals a pack of cigarettes, sacred things that are saved for nights like these. Ones where Dazai and him were close enough to touch,yet miles apart.
“We share.” The russian tells him,pulling one out of the pack and holding it out to Dazai. Eagerly, it is pulled from between his fingers,instead now resting between Dazais lips. Fyodor's hand disappears back into his pocket for a moment before it's held out to Dazai once more. The gentle flick of the lighter brings about a warm flame that's protected from the winds by Fyodor's other hand. He watches as Dazai leans in,lighting the cigarette without having to have raised a single finger.
A small breath in, followed by a soft exhale. Fyodor watches as Dazais body relaxes,shoulders drooping slightly and a hum is heard from Dazai,who holds the cigarette out to Fyodor. He takes it between his fingers gratefully,raising it to his mouth without thought. He takes a slow drag,eyes fluttering closed in a way Dazai can’t help but take notice of. He wouldn't go as far as to call the russian beautiful,as the moonlight drapes over him and he watches the smoke disperse into the air,but the thought is allowed to linger in his mind,just for a moment.
Fyodor takes another slow drag,blowing the smoke into the air in front of him. Then he passes the cigarette back to Dazai. “Talk, the silence is dreadful.” he urges Dazai.
With a soft sigh Dazai begins to speak. “Have you ever thought,Fyodor,about how meaningless life is?” The question is met with a hum,signaling the brunette to continue “We all live just to die.” Dazai breathes his words,a sadness intertwined with his usual tone “And nobody cares when it comes down to it.”
Fyodor gives another hum,and when Dazai says nothing,begins to speak. “You obsess over death but never over life. You long for the last thing you'll ever understand.”
He tilts his head,taking a second to snort out his thoughts. “There is no life without death,yes, but at the same time there is no death without life.” He wasn't sure his words made any sense,but they didn't need to,all they had to do was fill the air between the two men. “To truly die must be attained by living your life first. Or there is no point to your death.” he drones on,making the same point he had just made.
Some would find this annoying,yet Dazai thinks of it as more of a small quirk of Fyodors. Something the other did unconsciously when in the comfort of almost no one at all. He doubts even the other angels have seen the russian so repetitive. He passes the cigarette back. Fyodor takes it. Dazai watches the way he places it into his mouth , taking note of every action,how careful it is. Calculated down to the way his lips wrap around the end of the cigarette and takes in a breath. Dazai wouldn't say he's entranced by the other,but that's the closest word he can find for his brief fixation, before he tears his eyes away.
“Speaking of death and life. You should take those off.” Fyodor gestures to Dazais arms "Your wounds need to breathe." he says,and there is no lingering question of how Fyodor knew. For he always knew. He was always there to disrupt the many attempts from Dazai to take his own life. Always around with tips of getting blood from clothing, always there to pick up Dazai at his lowest.
He was like a guardian angel, Dazai thought with amusement. Demon Fyodor, the guardian angel.
"Stop dwelling on my being some Guardian angel and take them off already, unless you'd like me to do it for you" He threatens emptily, never the one to push Dazai out of his comfort zone. However, Dazai shifts away from the edge, taking off his long coat and stripping the bandages off his arms.
A breath of relief is followed by a pained one as the air hits open wounds.
"Oh come here милый, Let me look at those." Fyodors voice has a twinge of worry, but nothing so out of the ordinary between the two.
Dazai sits across from Fyodor, holding out his arms like a scolded child. Fyodor leans over Dazai, placing the cigarette in his lips, holding it there for a moment as Dazai breathes in, and going back to his original position once the other blows smoke to the side. The Russian pulls some tube from his pocket, placing the cigarette between his lips as he focuses on smearing the substance over Dazais arms. it was some disinfectant, if Dazai were to guess.
"You're going to get these infected one of these days,and that wont be pretty to clean up or explain to your little agency." Fyodor scolds, leading to a whine from Dazai
"feydaaaa. i'll be fine." he pouts, batting his eyes at the other. "You're such a worrier." he laughs, a small Chuckle coming from Fyodor
"That worry keeps me sane, though i'm afraid it may drive me insane one of these days" the man shook his head, smoke leaving his mouth along with his words.
He takes the cigarette and puts it out beside him, humming in small satisfaction at the state of Dazai’s arms "There. They should be good now. let them breathe for a while милый." He caps the tube and puts it back into his pocket.
The two Stare into each other's eyes, communicating something in a way only the two of them understand. A small argument lighting up in their eyes as they sit in silence. Soon that silence is broken by a fit of laughter, and to anyone else ,the two would seem insane. perhaps they were, so deluded with their connection that they thought more of it than was there. Perhaps the two were simply soulmates.
The fit of laughter wears down, and Dazai is stuck staring at Fyodor, as Fyodor is stuck staring at Dazai. The twos’ eyes wandering each other's faces, taking in every part of each other in a way that's intoxicating. Then each man rips their eyes away from the other,neither one of them mentions it.
“The agency is doing well.” Dazai speaks “we finally closed that case we had been working on '' he waits a moment before continuing “you could always join us,you know.'' then these meetings wouldn't have to be secret. The thought went unsaid. “I'm sure it'd be really helpful to have you around. You and I would make a good duo.” It was a sweet comment yet it brought up memories that left a sour taste in his mouth. He said it anyway.
“You know I have no interest in your agency,милый, my heart lies with the angels.” Fyodor spoke quietly “perhaps one day i'll rethink the offer but as of now. I'm happy where I am in life.”
A long silence fills the air,nothing left to say between the two as they simply sit with each other. It's peaceful,when it's just the two of them. Times-nights like this were a sweet solitude the two found comfort in.
“I wish to die,fyodor.” Dazai breathes,breaking the silence.
“Then, Shall we take this step together?” A life without Dazai,to Fyodor,was a boring one. There were others he could turn to,he was aware,but no one quite like Dazai.
Dazai,finally,looking away from the edge,where he had been drawn to all this time. “Not tonight.”
He moves close to the russian,their faces only inches apart “Not tonight.” he repeats,closing the gap. Dazais lips fit against Fyodor’s cleanly,the familiar taste of smoke filling Dazai’s senses like some kind of drug. Inclining the boy to want more,and he takes it,pressing his body
closer to Fyodors until they are as close as they can comfortably get. Fyodor takes the
hint,swiping his tongue over Dazais lip,who eagerly opens his mouth without thought. Not a thought crosses the two's minds as they focus on the sensations of the kiss,and as quickly as it happened, the two are pulling away from each other.
“You will be the death of me.” Fyodor sighs,happy and content with the position they have ended in. With Dazais arms around him “you coat me with sin. Yet to be with you is a bliss I've never known.” He laments,arm over his eyes as they are screwed shut,trying to block out a light that isnt even there.
“One day,perhaps”Dazai leans his head onto the other's chest, breathing slowly,softly. “As long as it's by my side,I couldn't care less.” He looks up at Dostoevsky “I wish to die with a beautiful man by my side,that is my new dream.”
Fyodor laughs lightly “To die by your side is something I can't promise,osamu. But I will stay by you from afar. I will always be with you as long as you let me” He runs a hand into Dazais hair,brushing out tangles.
A yawn,and Dazai hums “Creep.”
“Shut.” Frodor flicks him.