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“What the actual fuck?!” His voice rings loud and clear against his ears as his eyes zero on the insufferable person in front of him who was sporting a wolfish grin. He crosses his arms, glare never faltering at the person in front of him. He was so close to just punching his face but he held himself back, and it's not often he holds back when it comes to this shitty mackerel.
His eyes survey where they were and has come to a conclusion that they are in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. The cabin was made out of wood with a simple interior with few furniture, the couch he was sitting on, the bed across from him and a kitchen extension by his right. Dazai was sitting across from him in a chair he most likely got from the kitchen table. There was a fireplace near where he was sitting, and to anyone this would seem like a cozy home. To Chuuya, he sees this as a place where he needs to run away from.
“Really, the mafia should have better security measures, one of their most precious executive is so incredibly easy to kidnap.” Dazai teases but he knows it really wasn’t easy at all. He had spent weeks devising this plan waiting for the perfect moment and even going as far as renting this place courtesy to Kouyou who was more than happy to help and even offering one of her properties. He stares at Chuuya, and he had not gotten better than the last time he saw him. Chuuya’s glare deepens at his words, mere seconds away from actually lashing out and punching him. He can’t afford to entertain this stupid waste of bandages, he had to get back to his work. He could sense it was still early in the evening, the sun was still up as its light shines through the curtain. He had time to get back.
“Shut the fuck up and tell me how to get back to the city. Unlike you, I have a fucking job that I need to do.” He stands as he towers over Dazai even for just a little bit, grabbing his collar. Dazai’s grin only widens, happy to elicit such a reaction from the redhead. There was no way Dazai was letting him go now, he was supposed to be at this place a week ago but his stubborn chibi was barely even going home (almost as if avoiding something). So, Dazai simply went to him. The rest was history and now he was here trying to get Chuuya to finally rest.
“Boo, you’ve gone so boring chibbiko, you’ve been doing nothing but work and now you want to go back and do just that? Why don’t you take this chance to rest, your ugly face has only gotten uglier.” Dazai shrugs, sinking further into the chair, not even letting the redhead intimidate him. Chuuya throws a punch right then after seeing that Dazai had no plans on letting him go back. He knows, once Dazai has set his mind on something, even his stubbornness stands no chance.
“Fuck you! For fuck’s sake, how could I let myself get captured. What I do is none of your goddamn business, you dumbass! Whether I use my time to work or do what I want has nothing to do with a fucker like you!” Chuuya was turning to anger now even when his mind and body protests, he lets go of his stupid ex partner’s collar turning towards the first thing he sees. It was a lamp that stays at the table right beside the couch, he grabs that before throwing it unto Dazai’s direction and much to his dismay and to no surprise the latter manages to dodge it easily. His eyes scan around about to fling an entire table at his partner when his words stop him at his tracks.
“Ah, your Ane-san wouldn’t be too happy at you thrashing her place. You wouldn’t want her to be angry do you? Your small height can only take so much.” Dazai singsongs, his eyes never leaving Chuuya’s frame who placed the table back down with a loud thud and Dazai can almost hear it crack. Chuuya was back to glaring at him now to which he only returns with a grin. A part of him wants to fight him for what he had said and for the whole circumstances but another thinks that maybe this can be his excuse to actually sleep and not be woken up by his blaring alarm that he was done running for now. Only now that he stopped moving can he feel how heavy his body is. It was the same situation, he had covered another night shift despite having an early morning schedule. The only sleep he got was when he was knocked out cold by Dazai to get to this place. And, he also knew Dazai was going to get his way no matter what he does, and as much as it pains him to admit his only choice now is to do what this shitty fucker wants (he could try harder to have Dazai relent but really maybe a small part if him wants to finally give up).
“What do I have to do to get back?” He stands straight crossing his arms once again, he had already shown Dazai so much, he can’t afford to look so weak in front of him once again. Dazai raises a brow at him, grin never leaving his face and it seems to only grow wider as he pretends to think. Chuuya knows he had already made up his mind with how his eyes almost sparkle. In times like this, the brunette was easier to read. His mind was focused on another goal, allowing Chuuya a glimpse behind his thoughts; however, Chuuya knows he can read his ex partner if he wants to. If he looks hard enough, he'll know.
“Rest, Chuuya.” Dazai settles by saying just that. His trained eyes can see how much Chuuya’s body strains with each abrasive movement. Chuuya sighs at his words, it doesn't stop the lingering warmth he feels at his words. That night, it seemed like it had remained in Dazai's mind as much as he hated to think about it. He didn't want to owe someone like him, but at the same time he can't help but think if deep down he cared. Well atleast, cared enough to orchestrate all of this but he knows despite his addled mind with how his Ane-san was mentioned it was her who had cared enough and the person in front of him was likely sent in her place.
“If I sleep now, then can I go back tomorrow?” Chuuya hopes so, he doesn’t know how long he can stand with this guy being this near him after four years of radio silence and four years of having to avoid his thoughts linger even just for a bit about the said person. He doesn’t want to acknowledge how his heart beats faster at the thought of staying here in this cabin with just the two of them. He'd rather be angry than put a name to whatever he was feeling. He also didn't want to let himself get too complacent, there was a reason after all as to why he overworks himself. It was to keep himself occupied to avoid so many thoughts overriding his mind. He can barely cope and keep up with all the shitty things happening to him and he doesn't want to actually think about them. It would only make things worse for him and for everyone else. Though, he knows he also couldn’t get too used to the presence of the person with him right now. A fickle person who would leave him once again when this was over and his job was done.
Dazai only shrugs at his question which causes another punch from the mafioso. Chuuya let out a string of profanities in the process as well. He hated not knowing anything.
“There’s some clothes you can use but I doubt any of it can fit a tiny person like you. Really, after four years you hadn’t even gained the slightest amount of height.” Dazai resumes to his usual teasing while dodging another oncoming punch from Chuuya. He was finally standing up, towering over the redhead who had been nothing but glaring at him. Atleast now, Dazai can see the familiar light in his eyes unlike that night. He feels a rush of satisfaction at that, his efforts weren’t for naught after all. Chuuya rolls his eyes at him before going to the nearest closet to get clothes, once again freezing as he sees his options.
“You motherfucker! Where the fuck are my clothes?! Why is it only yours here?!” Chuuya shouts while staring at the person who was now sitting on the couch reading his stupid suicide book with his stupid face pretending he was actually so immersed in that, but Chuuya knows its all an act. His eyes barely lift to look at Chuuya before he shrugs again. The redhead doesn’t miss the slight sparkle in his eyes, so full of fucking mischief.
“I can’t bring myself to touch your clothes because what if you’ll infect me with your tackiness?! I can’t have that now!” Dazai flips a page on his book again but his attention was all on the person sputtering another string of curses at him. He let out a chuckle, the truth was, Dazai was in a hurry with this plan. He didn’t have time to break into Chuuya’s apartment to get his clothes and a small part of him had wanted to just prank the redhead seeing what he would do when it was only his house clothes available (but he knew he could’ve gotten his clothes if he wanted to, if he wanted to. Dazai doesn’t dwell on it).
A few moments later, he can hear the bathroom door opening. He prepares himself to make a teasing remark, maybe saying how Chuuya looks like a kid because he knows how big his clothes can be when it comes to someone as small as him. The moment he sets his eyes on Chuuya the words die at his throat when he sees him in his clothes. Chuuya barely glances at him using the towel to dry his hair, he looks so…he doesn’t know what to say or he’s afraid of what he can say. For the first time Dazai feels utterly speechless. Despite his brilliant mind, he feels so tongue tied when he sees how…fitting Chuuya looks with his clothes despite it being a few sizes larger. He tries to stop the blush from creeping up his face as his heart beats faster. He had excellent control over his body, but when it comes to Chuuya he feels like he loses all his inhibitions. He was thankful for the book that covers his face as it hides his flustered face. He also doesn’t miss the bandages around the other’s arm. The next glance he takes, Chuuya was already lying down in bed and based on his steady breathing he was fast asleep.
Dazai stands up and turns off the light while going outside of the terrace that comes with the cabin trying to get some fresh air and actually pull himself together. This was a mistake, he has made miscalculations, he didn’t think he would react this way even after four years had passed. He thought he was over this passing feeling, but seeing Chuuya back there in a setting that resembles so much like a– dare he says it, home . His heart hurts, he knows he doesn’t deserve anything remotely close to that. He lets out a sigh as he sits down on the nearest chair and he fully takes in the view. This cabin was circled by forest trees going as high as the eyes follow, he can see millions of stars that can’t be seen when he was in the city. The moon shines brightly and he thinks this is its own way of accompanying him as he calms his erratic heartbeats, and for a moment the comforting sound of nature finally helps him relax. He had to collect his thoughts, he was doing this for Chuuya after all.
Once he feels calm and in control of his own emotions he goes back inside, making sure no sound is uttered as he enters the bathroom and changes into his indoor clothes. He makes his way to the couch, draping an arm over his eyes. He feels the tiredness of the past few weeks organizing all of this (only for it to not go along with his plans but Chuuya doesn’t know that) for Chuuya. He feels sleep take him and his mind drifts into nothingness.
The night was peaceful for as long as it could be before the sun took over, signaling another start.
Chuuya jolts awake when he feels warm light on his body, his eyes looking around frantically because why hadn’t his damn alarm started? He was going to be so fucking late! He scrambles around, finally getting up off the bed and only now his hazy mind registers that he was in an unfamiliar place and in clothes that were not his based on how they hang loosely around his body, even sliding off on one of his shoulders. Finally remembering all the past events, Chuuya lets out a frustrated groan running a hand through his hair. He sees the rising sun and can only guess that it was the afternoon, it was the first time he had slept this long for as far as he can remember. He looks around, the whole room is empty but he can hear someone in the kitchen and he doesn't need to guess who it was. He walks towards the kitchen and surprise colors his face when he actually processes the scene in front of him.
Dazai was wearing some sort of frilly apron while cooking which in itself was very Dazai-like but Dazai, cooking? Dazai, who had always chosen not to eat, if it meant he had to actually prepare anything. Dazai who masks his disdain for eating by all other means. This shitty lanky beanpole was even humming his stupid suicide song while having that silly smile on his face. He crosses his arms while leaning against the wall connecting the kitchen to the small dinning area, frowning. He hates this, hates him. He hates how he feels giddy at the sight in front of him. This was one of the few times Dazai had seemed like home. Never had he imagined that he would actually come to this point, him wearing Dazai's clothes and Dazai willingly cooking something for them judging by the two plates prepared, one already filled toast while the other still empty. It almost makes him forget why was here in the first place or rather why he was here against his own will.
"Are you planning to poison me or some shit?" Chuuya's voice is hoarse, still laden with sleep as he raises his brow at him. Dazai doesn't bother looking as he flips the pancake from the pan.
"Chuuya is so mean, always thinking the worst of me." Dazai's pout was almost heard and Chuuya scoffs at that while rolling his eyes. His eyes rake over the person in front of him, as Dazai clumsily maneuvers around the kitchen. He catches the brunette flipping something and he assumes its a pancake…a weird deformed one, at that. He furrows his eyebrows trying to catch a glimpse of the horrifying shaped food, he almost tries to move from his place when Dazai finally turns to him carrying to pan likely transferring the atrocity to the plate. He doesn’t miss the passing look of astonished look his eyes held as he looks at him but Chuuya prefers not to comment on that. He knew what a sight he makes right now, so different from his usual display of perfection he likes to keep. His hair was tousled in a way he knows its unelegant, that much he could feel. Not to mention, the shirt he was wearing right now must look comical in his eyes with how it almost practically hangs off his shoulder. He was a mess.
“What the fuck is that?” He tries seeing as Dazai seemed to have no plans in speaking. He gestures to the pancake now placed on the plate, Dazai follows his line of gaze before he breaks into a grin, smugness evident in every part of his face that makes Chuuya frown.
“Why, it's Chuuya! It seems with that tiny brain of yours you can’t even recognize yourself .” He reasons while gesturing at the pancake, it makes Chuuya frown even deeper. Seeing his confusion Dazai sighs dramatically placing the pan in the sink before getting both plates and placing them at the dinner table and he senses Chuuya following him. He pushes the plate to Chuuya who sits across from him, arms still crossed as he stares at the pancake he had worked so hard to make. Dazai snorts because he actually looks like a kid, before trying to cover it as a cough when Chuuya glares at him, unmoving.
“How that fuck is that supposed to be me?”
“It’s Slug-Chuuya of course! Hah, I think it resembles you very much.” Dazai grins while nodding his head towards the pancake. It really does look like the redhead in front of him with his slug-like face, and his slug-like body with his slug-like eyes–
“...That’s supposed to be a slug?” Chuuya asks tilting his head staring intently at the plate of pancake in front of him, even twisting the plate trying to decipher which angle it actually looks like what its supposed to be.
“Yes! It is a slug. Chibi wounds me, can’t he just appreciate my artfulness and just eat already–” He was cut off by a bark of laughter which catches him off guard. In front of him Chuuya actually laughs , and it was the moment Dazai gets a glimpse of the boyish and carefree Chuuya he first met before all the tragedies made him what he was now. The Chuuya that he remembers and the one he— no, he won’t finish that thought. He can’t ruin this fragile peace between them with whatever feelings or whatever else he has. Dazai continues staring at how his eyes crinkle at the genuine joy he feels even holding his stomach as he doubles over from laughing.
“That’s…a slug? Hahaha, what the hell! Even the slugs would be offended seeing…that!” Chuuya says in between laughs while pointing at the pancake, Dazai pouts at that trying to stop himself from smiling.
“Well, I really can’t bring myself to care about the opinions of slugs.” Dazai says nonchalantly as he bites the toast he made for himself, standing up to get himself and the person in front of him some coffee. “Besides, Chuuya should be grateful that I made extra effort into making it look like him.”
He hears his partner snicker while also trying to hide his own as he dodges the kick that comes in his way as he walks towards the kitchen.
Dazai comes back with two mugs of coffee, and Chuuya finds himself the slightest bit impressed because it's exactly how he would enjoy his coffee (Dazai hadn't forgotten after all). The lunch was relatively quiet but not the stifling kind, it was the kind of quiet that makes the atmosphere warm and Chuuya wouldn’t have it any other way but a part of him is scared, he would rather have a battlefield tense atmosphere because at least that he was used to. Not this type of atmosphere that used to be out of reach for someone like him.
The peace continued and it even bleeds into the days they spend together almost going into a routine and it was after Chuuya’s failed attempts at going back before finally resigning to his fate. Dazai was always the first to wake up before Chuuya and he tries to prepare what he can, which are essentially only toasts and pancakes. Anything other than that is a threat to the kitchen and to the whole house. They had learned that the hard way when Chuuya woke up to the smell of something burning, he ran towards the kitchen almost stumbling to see Dazai smiling at him sheepishly holding the burning pan. A flurry of curses left Chuuya’s mouth that day, but Dazai doesn’t miss how he fusses over him right after checking if he was burned at some point.
“You fucking idiot! What were you thinking?” Chuuya says as he brings the pan to the sink turning it on as the cool water soaks the burnt pan a sizzling sound follows as he turns to Dazai who was smiling at him coyly in the same frilly apron he wears, his hands behind his back. For a moment, he looks like a guilty kid who was scared of being reprimanded. His heart was calming down, the moment he had woken up his first thought had been this stupid walking bandages and if he was okay. At that time, he didn’t care if the house burnt down prioritizing someone else’s wellbeing over that. Now that he can see that the detective in front of him wasn’t badly injured he sighs in relief though it can be translated to annoyance by the other, he can’t see himself caring.
“Chuuya! It wasn’t my fault!” Dazai says raising his hand in surrender as Chuuya continues to glare at him before rolling his eyes and walks towards the brunette. He grabs his hands scanning over them, his grip was loose giving Dazai the chance to take it back from his hold if he wishes. Dazai’s breath gets caught as he looks at how those intense blue eyes studies his hands before suddenly those eyes were looking right at him.
“You aren’t hurt anywhere?” Chuuya continues scanning over him, and Dazai swallows the lump at his throat because despite his initial display of anger he still bothered to check and his eyes show genuine worry that it actually makes Dazai slightly guilty. It also surges a flurry of feelings Dazai stamps down before he shakes his head, his words die down because now that those eyes were looking intently at him his own can’t help but drift over to the frowning lips wanting to erase by placing it against his own– His thoughts are stopped by Chuuya finally starting his nagging about kitchen safety, his loud voice rings around the entire kitchen or even house.
After that incident, Chuuya was the one that woke up first and cooked for the both of them despite Dazai whining how Chuuya was stealing his job and that he was the better cook between the two of them. Even going as far as mentioning how it was supposed to be the master feeding the dog, not the other way around which earns him a punch which shuts him up but only for a while before he starts annoying the other again.
Chuuya finally gives up and lets him cook again. But not without promising that he only sticks to toasts and pancakes, Dazai grumbles and mentions something like how boring that would be and Chuuya shuts him up by saying he would rather have that than being burned to death.
Afterwards their first meal, they wouldn’t consider it as breakfast because they would usually eat at the afternoon, the usual time Chuuya wakes up. They go about their own day waiting for the evening which is the ginger-haired’s turn to cook, Chuuya finding some of his books and the ones he means to read right by the bed gets to reading. Nevermind the fact that Dazai managed to get these but not even his own clothes. He doesn’t bother questioning it knowing Dazai won’t even give him anything remotely close to an answer. Dazai leaves right after doing the dishes and Chuuya doesn’t bother asking him prefer to stick to his own reading.
It goes on for a few days before Dazai drags him outside saying something like he has a surprise which turned out to be a lake near their own cabin house. They spent the day relaxing under the sun before Dazai– being the menace he is grabs a bucket from who knows where, filling it with water and just outright dumping it on Chuuya who was resting on the grass. Before Chuuya could react he was off running, the redhead activated his ability to make the bucket fill with water and making it chase the fucker who was laughing at him. It didn’t take much before it was the brunette who was soaking wet this time with Chuuya laughing at his face. It wasn’t long before Dazai actually managed to drag Chuuya to the lake itself, and what was supposed to be a therapeutic moment as Dazai has said turned into an afternoon of competitive swimming and bets.
“I hate you so much! Who the fuck gave you an idea that walking through a goddamn forest while soaking wet is a good idea?!” Chuuya shouts at Dazai as he stops himself from shivering when a gust of wind follows, they were walking back to their cabin in their wet clothes because despite starting the prank Dazai did not think that there was a need for extra clothes. Dazai was hugging himself trying to warm himself up as another breeze makes them stop their tracks.
“Chuuya was the one who dragged me to the lake.” Dazai counters and Chuuya turns to look at him with a glare that wasn’t even doing much when it was accompanied by his chattering teeth. Dazai thinks he looks like a wet and cold dog.
“You literally dumped water on me?”
“Well, it is the owner’s responsibility to give their dogs a bath.” Dazai says and Chuuya only groans in response before half heartedly trying to kick his ex partner. Dazai giggles quietly and in no time the bickering continues as if the two aren't literally shaking from the cold air that sweeps around them. A part of Dazai thinks that maybe, just maybe they can truly find warmth in each other.
They both fell silent once they had finally reached their cabin and Dazai had let Chuuya take a shower first but not without staying right outside the door urging (or annoying) Chuuya to move faster because he was cold. It was effective because Chuuya was done in no time, and Dazai misses the lack of familiar white by his wrists and he enters the bathroom wanting to take off the sticking clothes. Right after the shower he reaches for his stock of bandages when he notices none in their usual spot. Ah, they’ve run out but Dazai knew he had extras stacked in the wardrobe so he goes out to get them spotting Chuuya by the fireplace oddly still. He hurries to get the bandages, once they are in his hands he nears the ginger who was currently staring at his wrist where the familiar wound and countless scars reside. Wordlessly he grabs a blanket draping it over Chuuya while sitting next to him, his hands reaching out slowly to his wrists. Chuuya only stares at his reaching hands, and Dazai takes that as permission to gently take it as he rolls out the bandages.
He was gentle in his ministrations, foregoing the usual carelessness when he would be bandaging himself up. The only sound that could be heard was the fire crackling in front of them as Dazai carefully patches his partner’s wounds even placing the cream he had packed that would help with the itchiness of bandages.
“That’s not needed.” Chuuya breaks the silence but his voice was barely above a whisper and Dazai shakes his head.
“Do I have to remind the hatrack that I have more experience with bandages between the two of us?” Dazai says and the usual teasing tone gone as his hands continue their motion wrapping the bandages around Chuuya’s arm. And Chuuya, for his part hates how oddly familiar this entire situation is. It was their post mission peace where they would be taking care of each other, two kids left to their own when it should’ve been the responsibility of an adult. It was a reminder at how the adults had failed them. Chuuya holds back the shiver despite not being cold when Dazai takes his hands as he adjusts the bandages, he also hates how much he yearns the warmth from that fleeting touch. He can’t remember the last time someone had held him so gently like he was a fragile glass and he can’t bring himself to be bothered by that sentiment because all his life, he was treated so carelessly because he was a weapon, he had a God residing in him.
Chuuya Nakahara doesn’t break easily, after all.
People must’ve put that into mind whenever they saw Chuuya. They were so quick to use and toss him aside after. They would not hesitate to bend Chuuya to their will knowing that he would never break. And, Chuuya knows he also can’t allow himself to break. So he pushes down these unexplainable feelings as if the warmth in Dazai’s touches doesn’t make his heart beat faster, as if it hadn’t singlehandedly pushed tears at the brim of his eyes despite suppressing them for years, as if he didn’t yearn for more. Because, he knows nothing was true. That this little bubble they have would easily shatter with just the right words and just like before, Chuuya would be alone once again.
Chuuya is once again reminded just why he had pushed himself to the brink, it was to stop these thoughts after all. It was a careful plan turned habit crafted by an eighteen years old Chuuya who was all alone trying to catch up with the world that expected so much of him, not realizing that he was a kid too and he can’t possibly carry every burden alone. But, Chuuya was always trying to prove himself to everyone so he did. He took on every job, written every report and received every praise. All the while also downing almost all of his alcohol be it cheap or expensive, their taste blurred right after a few shots and he couldn’t bring himself to care. He burned through cigarettes after cigarettes and had tried every pills he could get his hands on. It was his only reprieve after all. Reprieve from all the haunting thoughts.
“Hey?” Dazai breaks him out of his thoughts, and the need to scratch at the his wounds becomes stronger. He stops himself, he had already shown so much in front of Dazai, he can’t afford anymore slip ups. Chuuya holds Dazai’s gaze steadily before he gets lost in his own mind once again.
“Hi.” Chuuya says slightly breathless, his eyes sees the other stack of bandages and his eyes scan over Dazai and finally notices how he too lacked his usual white. Without thinking he reaches out for Dazai’s arm as his other hand grabs the bandages.
“You don’t have to.”
“Consider it as thanks.” His hands move before he can think the action having been done for more times than he can count, muscle memory taking over. Silence envelops them once again as Chuuya focuses on the task at hand, his hands moved efficiently like they had years ago. His breath hitches once he holds Dazai’s hand in favor of extending it out in order to wrap the bandages around his inner arms, his shirt sleeve bunched up. He stops the urge to just keep holding Dazai’s hands hoping it would be enough to take those unwanted thoughts away. He can sense Dazai’s eyes on him and he knows he can’t look at them, not now when he feels like the slightest touch can melt him.
Chuuya Nakahara was supposed to be strong, after all.
Crumbling just after small touches was by far the opposite of strong. He switches to Dazai’s other arm this time he was careful only touching the skin when necessary, he had never wanted to wear his gloves that he does now. The entire process was over in a blink of an eye, Chuuya even managed to bandage Dazai’s upper torso. His hand fall slack against his side while the other clutches the blanket closer to him in hopes of replicating the warmth he felt with Dazai.
Dazai holds his stare for a moment before reaching out to take his hand, Chuuya’s breath goes still his eyes following the other hand once again making no move to stop him. Dazai envelops his hands in his own and Chuuya feels putty as if he could melt, he closes his eyes for a moment trying to regain his composure when he feels himself shaking. The next thing he knows he was pulled towards Dazai and arms envelop him in the warmth he had craved. And finally, Chuuya allows himself to melt.
His hand clutches unto Dazai’s shirt as he buries himself in his chest trying to hide away his face filled with tears he hadn’t even noticed spilling. A soft hand goes through his hair as if trying to cradle him and soft whispers follow. He doesn’t even notice himself mumbling apologies for his display as if it was his first instinct to feel guilty when he allows himself to be weak in front of someone.
That night, Dazai holds Chuuya until he cries himself to sleep, and a little more after because the mafioso had refused to let go of the first warmth he feels after years.
Fuck everyone else who was waiting for his return.