Chapter Text
“Did you ever take etiquette classes?” Kunikida asked, raising an eyebrow as he scanned the bustling ballroom. The ornate hall was filled with beautiful music, colors, and lots of dancing.
Dazai paused and gave him a look. “Seriously?” he replied with a snarky glare.
“Oh, right,” Kunikida said and adjusted his glasses. Dazai’s teenage years were spent in the mafia. He figured it was safe to assume Dazai never learned to waltz. “Can you dance.. at all?” He asked.
“Kunikida-kun!” Dazai said and slapped him on the arm, “that is no way for a gentleman to request a dance from his partner, now is it?” Kunikida rolled his eyes at his coworker’s theatrics, “No, obviously not!” He said, “but we’re here on a mission, and we need to blend in.”
“Fine,” Dazai said in a sing-songy tone, “then what are the magic words?”
“Please?” Kunikida said half-heartedly.
“No.”
“Will you please-“
“No. What do they say in the movies, Kunikida-kun?” Dazai grinned, milking the situation as much as he could, “This is my first socialite ball, shouldn’t you be treating me like a princess?” Kunikida closed his eyes and sighed. Dazai’s antics weren’t making this already precarious mission any easier.
They were there to track down a gem smuggler- secretive, wealthy, and high in the Yokohama social scene. He had friends in all the right places. The best place to catch him was in his element, where his guard was down, surrounded by people just as dark and materialistic as he. And because of that nature, getting their cover blown was to be avoided at all costs. Not only would such a discovery make them enemies of the smuggler and his team, but also of the entire high-society crowd.
Kunikida was sure everyone at this party had something to hide, ranging anywhere from passionate affairs to their target’s illegal activities. It was an exclusive bunch, he and Dazai only got in because Fukuzawa “knew a guy who knew a guy who owed him a favor.” And at the end of that long string of connections, there was him. Here. With Dazai. As his date.
Their relationship had been complicated as of late, which could be accredited to Kunikida’s reluctant acceptance of his romantic feelings for his partner. And, to his knowledge, these feelings stood unrequited, and therefore unexpressed. Playing the part of lover to a man he harbored one-sided feelings for would be a painful, delicate task for anyone to endure.
Unfortunately for him, that man happened to be Osamu Dazai, who played his part unrelentingly with a very dramatic flare. His playacting was unknowingly cruel, and every hollow flirtatious remark hit Kunikida like a stab in the chest. He found the whole ruse to be unnecessary, a plan devised, of course, by Dazai himself. What a massive nuisance.
“You’re insufferable,” Kunikida said, but Dazai just laughed. “But fine,“ Kunikida said, taking Dazai’s hand in his own and clearing his throat, “may I have this dance?” Snark seeped into his tone, but he embraced it- much preferring it to awkwardness.
“That’s much more like it,” he said with a satisfied smile and let Kunikida guide him onto the floor.
“You don’t know any waltz steps?” Kunikida asked.
“Nope,” Dazai promptly shook his head, “but I’ll catch on fast. If I step on your feet, it’ll be on purpose.” He said with a brim smile.
“And when I start to wring your neck, that’ll be on purpose too,” he said, switching his tone as he wrapped his right hand steadily around Dazai’s back, “but just follow my lead, and you’ll be fine.”
Dazai breathed in with a tinge of unease- was it nervousness? Before Kunikida could think much of it, he laughed himself off, “death by strangulation, how romantic.”
“Put your hand on my shoulder,” Kunikida continued. If he was going to do this, he was sure as hell going to do it right. Dazai did as he was told, and Kunikida gracefully reached for his other hand, joining it with his and holding them out at the proper level. His hold was firm as he gently pulled Dazai in closer, and their eyes met.
“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Dazai said, smirking.
“I do,” Kunikida replied and smiled, he sure thought he was smooth, “now I’m going to step forward with my left foot, just follow me.” He began the box step, and Dazai, though he was staring right at the floor, seemed to understand and followed his movements pretty smoothly.
“So did you grow up rich or something? How did you learn to dance like this?” He asked, still not looking up.
“Oh, no,” Kunikida replied, “but manners and etiquette were always very important to my parents. They also loved to dance,” Kunikida smiled wistfully, replaying memories of his parents dancing around their kitchen. He continued, “My mother used to tell me all the best men know how to dance the waltz.”
“I would agree,” Dazai said slightly under his breath, then finally looking up at Kunikida, “I think I’ve got it now,” he said.
“Oh you’re not done,” Kunikida chuckled, speeding up their tempo a bit, “but you’re doing well- I can’t believe this is your first time.” Dazai didn’t stumble or lose his footing, nor did he look down.
“I guess I’m a natural,” he teased.
“No- I mean, sure- but you’re telling me the mafia never needed to infiltrate a high-society shitshow like this?” He asked.
“Oh sure they did,” Dazai said and laughed, “but they never sent me.”
“Fair enough,” Kunikida said, “I’m shocked you haven’t gotten us kicked out yet.”
“If it weren’t for you, I would’ve,” Dazai said and smiled coyly, “what would I do without you, my dear Kunikida-kun?”
That last bit took Kunikida by surprise, his cheeks felt hot. Dazai only laughed. Bastard. “Don’t speak too soon,” he said, pulling his hand away and releasing Dazai into an underarm turn and pulling him swiftly back in. “We’re bound to switch partners soon.”
“What?” Dazai said, giving him a fake gasp, “But Kunikida-kun is supposed to be my partner and mine alone! What if I don’t want to share him?” Kunikida grit his teeth. If they had been anywhere else but here, he would have blown his fuse by now. But of course that ball, to his demise, was the only place in which Dazai would tease him like this.
But behind his charade, Kunikida could see a brief slip of nervousness in Dazai’s eyes. He’s not ready, Kunikida realized. He knew Dazai secretly hated events like these, but he’d always play his part out of fear of disapproval. Kunikida was his safety net, and he couldn’t deny him that.
“Fine,” Kunikida groaned jokingly, “but we might attract more attention than we would otherwise.” As if on cue, the other pairs gracefully began switching, ladies all shifting to the right. Kunikida waltzed and weaved them through the commotion, keeping in time with the music and guiding Dazai with him. It truly was an impressive set of moves, but he was right about them catching a few stares. While some of these looks were haughty and annoyed, the worst of them were amused, charmed, even endearing. They had no need to worry about blowing their cover, as to this crowd, apparently, they were just two young lovers engrossed happily in a dance. Ugh, Kunikida’s head hurt. His heart did too.
As they emerged from the lines of dancing couples, Dazai shrugged his shoulders and smiled, “I’m just smitten, is that so wrong?” He asked, having caught onto the staring, knowing exactly where to press Kunikida’s buttons. Because of course he did, he’s Dazai.
Is he doing this on purpose to torment me? Kunikida thought. There was no way (at least in his mind) that Dazai knew. But why was he so persistent? This amount of teasing was a lot, even for him. He must have some reason for all of this, he thought, but didn’t plan on getting his hopes up too high.
Kunikida just rolled his eyes in response, but not even the most intense expression of annoyance could hide the deep pink on his cheeks. Dazai laughed at him fondly, a pleased smile on his face.
Only a moment later, Dazai’s face froze as he looked beyond Kunikida’s shoulder, “That’s our guy,” he said, his voice now lowered.
He was a man over average height with a handsome face, slicked back black hair, and his signature bowtie. Tonight, it was purple.
Kunikida turned his head to get a look at the smuggler, but Dazai quickly cupped the side of his face and jerked it back to face him, “don’t look at him. We have to be inconspicuous, remember?” Kunikida knew he was right, but he could barely pay attention to Dazai’s words when his impetuous thumb lingered around the corner of his lips. Why was he doing that? Was it all for the act? This man would be the death of him.
Dazai pulled his hand away, placing it back on Kunikida’s shoulder, and adjusted his stance to get a clear view of their target. Dazai tracked the man’s motion across the floor, and directed Kunikida’s movements to follow him at a distance. While Dazai watched the man and guided Kunikida left and right, Kunikida danced them through the crowd with ease, grace, and purpose.
Nearing the end of the song, Dazai noticed a glance between their target and another man standing at the entrance to the hallway. The smuggler had made his way to the outermost line of dancing couples, and was saying something to his partner. “Quickly, move us as far left as you can,” Dazai said, “he’s going to leave at the end of this song.”
Kunikida nodded, “Alright, follow my steps,” he said, pulling Dazai in for a progressive chassé to the left, “this might get tricky.” Dazai brushed his warning off with a shrug, but soon learned Kunikida wasn’t exaggerating. He struggled to keep up with the sudden turns and direction changes, and his footwork got sloppy. He moved his feet a bit carelessly, forgetting his form and simply following Kunikida, as well as trying to keep an eye on the criminal.
When they came to a halt after an unexpected turn, Dazai’s sense of momentum was thrown off, and he tripped over his own feet. “Shit,” he whispered under his breath as he lost his balance and braced himself for the pool of embarrassment waiting for him on the floor.
Only to be caught mere instants after he began to fall, finding himself in a dip position as an arm wrapped around his back. His breath hitched as he looked up at Kunikida, who met him with a small, almost dumbfounded mile.
“Careful,” he said, surprised and impressed with himself. First, for pulling off that dip, and second, most importantly, catching Dazai off guard. “You’re lucky I know what I’m doing,” he said, reveling in his momentary glory and now giving Dazai a smirk.
Dazai’s eyes widened in surprise, “I suppose I am,” he said. But after a moment, his gaze slowly shifted from stunned to alluring. Maintaining eye-contact, Dazai intertwined the fingers clenched around his hand with his own, offering Kunikida a devious grin. “Good catch,” he said, speaking just above a whisper.
As the pianist played the song's soft, final notes, they lingered there, eyes, hands, and arms all locked with the other’s in awe. Kunikida’s head had been spinning all night, but now in their embrace, it had finally stopped. Entranced, he pulled Dazai up to his level, who turned to him and took the smallest of steps closer. Kunikida opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, a wave of applause rang out through the air.
All at once, their trance and their silence broke, and they snapped their heads away, leaving their electric tension hanging in the air. Kunikida stepped back and dipped his head towards Dazai, slightly dodging his eyes. Sneaking a glimpse up at him, he caught Dazai doing the exact same thing. Sheepishly, they both averted their eyes, and Kunikida pulled his hand away and stepped back, a string of curse words running through his mind. What the hell was that?
They hesitated, but Dazai was the first to speak “So,” he said, glancing over at their target as he approached his friend, “shall we?”
Kunikida sighed, thankful for Dazai’s diversion from the awkwardness, but disappointed nonetheless. “We shall,” he said, nodding and regaining his composure, “let’s get this over with.”