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As the moon bathed Yokohama's cityscape in a soft glow, the familiar silhouette of Osamu Dazai sat in silence on a graveyard, resting his back against the same tomb as always. His gaze fixed on the starry sky above as if he was searching for guidance or seeking solace in the vast expanse up there that would calm the labyrinth of thoughts in his mind.
Meanwhile, Nakahara Chuuya roamed the streets, his eyes scanning the night coasting to the same place he went every year since he was sixteen to pay respects to the loved ones he had lost. It had been quite a time since his last visit, four years to be exact. At first, it had been only Chuuya mourning the people who gave him light and left early. The next year Dazai joined him.
It turned into a ritual between them, a yearly tradition where they remembered and cheered for the people who weren't there anymore, whether by their own hands or simply cruel fate's fault, usually both, reminding themselves they are humans and still feel the crush of their actions and past experiences on the way.
Or at least that's what they used to before being separated for four years when Dazai left the mafia and he, after investigating enough to see he was at least alive, took only missions in Europe to be as far from him as possible. He intentionally distanced himself, wanting to minimize the risk of encountering Dazai on the streets of Yokohama.
The thought of what he would say or how he would react in such a situation weighed heavily on Chuuya's mind. He thought they may never fall into habit again, but their meeting a few weeks ago in the mafia's dungeon tried to prove him wrong, they hadn't talked much after that though, Chuuya had already lost his pride drunk calling him many times to be the first one to text.
As Chuuya arrived he spotted Dazai sitting with his back turned, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying with it a sense of melancholy. Watching him surrounded by fireflies and gaze lost in the brightness, he couldn't help but feel drawn, Chuuya walked up to him and sat close to him —enough to give him needed space while still being at his side— without a word, he could sense his ex partner was too lost in thought at the lack of mocking or overhyped greetings, however it wasn't unlikely for him to be nonverbal during these situations, when the sadness flooded his whole mind and left his tongue too dry to function.
Chuuya carefully set the basket he had been carrying beside him, its contents a thoughtful selection of items, a few scented candles he light up as he took them out, mostly citrus ones, Dazai liked those even if he'd never admit to liking something Chuuya chose, flowers with different meanings spread around them and some light food for when the night grew older.
As he arranged the elements, he felt a gentle brush against his hand. Looking up, he met Dazai's eyes, with a mere glance, he understood the turmoil brewing within the guy's mind. His hand lingered for a moment before finding its resting place on top of Chuuya's.
Reminded him of old times, unspoken about and almost lost in denial, when days turned into nights and missions blurred together, but the connection between them remained a constant anchor amidst the storm. When they shared stolen glances and secretive smiles, communicating in a language only they could understand as the world around them grew more chaotic and their bond deepened, entwining their souls like ink on a page.
Memories of their old times started clouding his brain again, he catched himself dwelling on those thoughts more often since their last meeting. They never really left his mind since he was eighteen.
Sharp pain shot through his chest as the scenes played inside him, he's missed Dazai so much these years, Chuuya completely understood the reason for his deception and never made any move to get closer so he never blamed or resented Dazai. —when he was in his right mind, some nights could be a bit hard when shameful fears he couldn't get over were the only thing he could think about— But it didn't mean he didn't miss his partner.
When Chuuya saw him in the dungeon looking so much healthier and brighter than the last time, warmth covered his whole chest fueling it with both fond happiness and yearning he's been trying to bury as deep as possible.
"Hey Chuuya" said Dazai with a soft-spoken voice that knocked Chuuya off his mind, gentleness in the tone almost throwing him off, "Still have shit taste in candles i see". And here it is, Chuuya sighed internally.
"Have you been here for too long?" he asked like Dazai had been waiting for him, regretted the words mid sentence.
"I never stopped" The bastard caught the hidden question "I've been coming every year, it was a relief not having the slug around but i have to admit it was getting boring".
Still looking above as they talked, the dime light resting on his skin and hair, softening it to the sight, tunnel vision appeared in the eyes staring at the brunette. Chuuya always thought Dazai's beauty was blue, as bright as the sky in broad daylight but as nostalgic as the waves of the sea at dawn.
"A mourning ritual is not supposed to be fun, asshole" the words lacked the bitter remark and so did the shoulder punch.
Dazai chuckled and got closer to him, the citrus flowing in the air already taking over as fireflies flying around them mixed their light with stars and flames, one of them posed itself on the brunette's palm exposing its wings to him, Chuuya watched the other boy smile softly as he lifted the bug to the sky, finally moving his eyes from it.
He knew Dazai had always loved bugs, Chuuya thought it was childish at best and gross at worst, it wasn't until a night like this close to this same spot where he understood the reason behind it.
Dazai told him he felt bad for the little animals hated due to irrational fear over things they wouldn't even do, how people would smash them on sight or flee the room in terror if they saw one just existing. How they're associated with corruption, decay and danger just for the crime of not being soft and fluffy.
Chuuya didn't say anything about it but catched the meaning of the explanation, and since then he sometimes felt like an insect himself.
A throat clearing brought him out of his thoughts, he found Dazai's brown eyes looking at him now, pulling him deeper into those pools of strong overwhelming feelings and warmth disguised as emptiness, he was always set up to failure under his partner's gaze.
Their eyes mirroring a mix of repressed desires and vulnerability. In that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them —a silent acknowledgement.
The world around them seemed to fade into a blur, leaving only the two of them in that timeless moment. Suddenly they closed the distance between them —who did it would be an argument for later—
Their hearts beating in sync. Their lips met as a dance of unspoken gestures and the kiss grew bolder, a silent invitation to delve deeper into the uncharted territory of their feelings. It was messy at best, teeth clacking against each other and their breathing getting louder, panting into each other's mouths, biting lips and letting groans escape.
They kissed like they were starving men, perhaps that's what they were after all.
Fingers intertwined, hands found solace in the warmth of each other's touch, anchoring them in the present moment. Time seemed to stand still as they savored one another.
Their bodies leaned closer. Their embrace became more intimate, as if their souls were intertwining, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. They melted into each other, a perfect blend of tenderness and passion, speaking volumes in the silence of the kiss.
Foreheads touching and eyes locked as they broke for air. One of Dazai's hands found its way through tangled red locks and started caressing them, Chuuya's own were gripping at the other's sides. They stayed like that for minutes, maybe an entire hour, just looking at each other, staring, admiring.
Chuuya's mind was a web of doubts.
Dazai's face was a scrambling of emotions.
Before he could say something —or leave— the taller boy trapped his face between his hands, squishing cheeks almost aggressively.
"Dazai what the hell—" he was cut short by another cheek squish
"Hatrack have i told you you're my sun" Dazai said in one breath, like he could feel the knots in Chuuya's mind and needed to untangle them.
"What?"
"You've been my sun, the brightest light in my life ever since the moment I laid eyes on you, and just like the moon I wear the shadows you cast upon me when i have no light of my own" Dazai's eyes were getting watery, probably for the sudden overwhelming feelings after the sadness he was buried in before. Hands still cupping his face.
The confession had drips of self-deprecation on it, Chuuya knew better than to feed into that these days.
"I don't want to be your sun Dazai" he wiggled out the position they were in, putting a few inches of distance between them.
"You don't get to choose what you mean to other people Chuuya" soft gaze fixing on the stars again.
"I don't want you to be my moon either" Chuuya interrupted as if running out of time.
"... I'm okay with that" Dazai's expression fell down, so slightly someone else wouldn't have noticed.
"Could we be two shooting stars?" Flying alongside each other. Same brightness, same size, not so important the world couldn't keep going without them but also not insignificant and meaningless.
"Wouldn't it be freeing? just you and me, being equals, enjoying the liberty to roam space together without the need to live up to any expectations put onto us?" He didn't know what dorky shit was getting onto him or what spell Dazai put on him to make him, of all people, act corny, —as if he wasn't as syrupy sweet as Dazai when he let feelings be felt— but he needed to get the years-long words out before they rotted inside him.
"Wouldn't it be nice to be seen by other young lovers in the ground and hear them wish for nicer lives. Giving them hope because we're trying to make one for us ourselves?"
"Chuuya... is that a dating proposal?"
"Maybe, only if you'd say yes".
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