Work Text:
Mersault was to be a memory now. They’d survived, somehow, despite Fyodor’s best efforts to ensure they wouldn’t.
Now, he watched as Sigma tipped back the shot of vodka and grinned across the table at Dazai. His own glass - his third one, in fact – wasn’t quite as potent, though even if it had been, Dazai doubted it would have been strong enough to get himself into the state Sigma was steadily working towards.
Her smile was as infectious as it was sloppy, though not quite as wobbly as her legs as she stood and groped for Dazai’s hand.
“What is it?” he half-shouted over the music.
She nodded in the direction of the dance floor, then tugged his hand. Though her voice couldn’t carry over the thrum of noise coming from the speakers, he recognised the shape of her lips form the word ‘dance.’
When he nodded in acquiescence, her smile broke into a laugh, the trill of it just barely audible, sending ripples of warmth through him. He let her pull him into the throng of people already battling for room on the floor, worming through the crowd so that he could keep hold of her.
The attempt proved almost futile: groups shoved them about like two bottles fallen from a ship in a storm, threatening to break them apart. For a moment, Dazai’s hand slipped and the purple-white mop of hair vanished into the sea of strobe lights and shadows.
He wriggled forwards in the direction he was sure he’d last seen her. A couple ignored him as he shoved them out of the way, too busy biting at each other’s faces to care as he strove past them.
Visions of her drifting alone, or worse, being dragged off by some malicious stranger and forced into danger she was in no state to defend herself from, flashed through Dazai’s mind as he fought his way to the far side of the dance floor.
A hand grabbed his shoulder, nearly wrenching him from his feet as dancers around him jostled and swayed.
A bright melody cascaded over the heavy thump of the music.
Dazai spun to brush off his attacker, then paused.
Sigma’s face glowed blue and red in the dim light, the fluorescent colours reflecting her joy as she slipped past the last couple of obstacles and pulled him into her embrace.
“Found you,” she giggled, breath sweet and sticky against his cheek.
“I thought I was supposed to be the chaotic one here,” he shouted back at her.
She smiled again at him. As the music crashed around them, she tipped her head back, lifting her arms up above her head in silent movement, before bringing them down around Dazai’s neck.
In retaliation, Dazai took her by the waist and brought her close so that she had no choice but to press herself against him, her hips still gyrating to the rhythm of the music. Her face betrayed not a hint of surprise. Only mischief crossed her expression as she moved, her hair following her in a multicoloured curtain cast first one then another colour as she moved, eyes closed and head tilted upward.
Not once in Mersault had she let loose like this, though then it had been all either of them could do to survive. With her so near now, Dazai couldn’t help but recall the flooded elevator, the shock and terror on her face as he had pushed her down below the surface. The way Sigma’s face had shifted from fear to understanding without him being able to say a word.
As much as she had been wary of him, she’d trusted him. For no reason, but she’d let him keep her alive, even when he had no expectation of surviving himself.
And now she trusted him here, with a hundred strangers around them, with enough alcohol in her system to kill anyone not used to withstanding that much liquor.
Chuuya would have laughed at her foolishness if he’d been there to see the trust she put in him.
But she wasn’t a fool. Dazai knew that much. Maybe he was an idiot for letting her rely on him like this, but he couldn’t let her get hurt now. Not after putting so much effort into ensuring she’d make it out of that prison. Not after seeing her smile so freely for the first time here. Not after knowing how much she deserved to become a member of the Agency.
So he danced with her.
He was sure he could give her this one happiness at least without fucking it up. He could twirl her under his arm, follow her turns and moves as she created a whole universe within the small patch of floor they’d managed to take for themselves.
She steered him here and there, so liquid and free in her movements Dazai had no idea how she was keeping her balance, laughing whenever he stumbled. With one hand on his, she kept him forever within her reach, so tantalisingly close, yet spinning him far away any time he felt his heart pounding just a little bit too hard, as if she could somehow feel it threatening to burst beneath his chest.
At last, as the crowd shifted again between one song and the next, she tugged on his hand and led him from the throng and back to their table.
They’d barely sat down before she was off again, skipping light as a deer to the bar. A minute later, she returned with two shots and handed one to Dazai.
“To making it out,” he said.
“To the Agency, for keeping you alive long enough for me to meet you.”
He chuckled. Sure, they’d been the ones protecting him. He could let her believe that for now. “To us, for surviving Fyodor.”
She grinned and knocked back the vodka. He followed suit.
As she swallowed, something sparked in her eyes. He didn’t get a chance to decipher the look before she snuck forwards, lips on his, burning hot as the alcohol in his throat. Barely a moment passed before she withdrew, momentarily sober as the colour drained from everywhere in her face but her cheeks.
“Sigma…”
She flinched, making towards the toilets before he grabbed her hand.
“Is that what you were working yourself up to with all those drinks?”
Her eyes refused to settle on him. “Maybe…”
His thumb traced a circle into the back of her hand. “Did you really need to be drunk to do that, sweetheart?”
She flushed even more red, and finally looked at him. “Don’t call me that just to tease-”
“I’m not teasing you,” he cut in. “Well, a bit, but you’re too cute not to.” His other hand came up to cup her cheek. “Don’t you want to try that again?”
For a few seconds, the words seemed to fly right over her head. She stared at him blankly, uncomprehending. But when it finally sank in, something indecipherable crept into her eyes. Something that made Dazai’s stomach churn as if he’d been the one to just drunkenly kiss his crush.
Then she leaned in, tortuously slow, hands creeping up over his shoulders, fingers nestling in the curls of his hair that sat at the nape of his neck, chest pausing just millimetres from Dazai’s own. Her eyes filled his vision before she finally crossed the last gap between them.
He was ready to meet her this time, capturing her lips the moment they touched his, tasting the bitter flavour of liquor as he teased at the seam of her mouth. She gave him entry easily, letting him taste her mouth before pushing up onto her toes and leaning into him more.
He couldn’t breathe, but he’d never breathe again if it meant they could keep kissing like this forever. When his hands took her waist, she squealed into his mouth, sudden and hot, before he drew back and chuckled against her neck. Her skin was almost burning as he sucked it into his mouth and nibbled at her, drawing out another, more erotic sound.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” he crooned into her ear.
Before she leaned in to steal another kiss, she nodded and whispered, “yes.”