Work Text:
Chuuya knew something was wrong the second he stepped into the penthouse. He toed his shoes off and furrowed his eyebrows suspiciously when there was no sing-song voice ringing through the place, welcoming him home. Dazai always welcomed him home.
Dazai was there, he knew that. His shoes lay haphazardly by the front door and there was a puddle of water around them. It had been raining outside not long ago but by the time Chuuya finished work, there were just puddles and the scent of petrichor lingering.
Chuuya’s sharp eyes caught the lack of an umbrella and the trail of water leading away from the door and he pressed his lips together, slipping his coat off and hanging it on the coat rack by the door along with his hat before he followed the trail through the living room and into the bedroom. There was no one in the living room but Dazai’s clothes were strewn messily on the bedsheets and the door to the bathroom was slightly ajar.
The redhead pushed it open fully, listening to the sound of water from the shower and then his eyes landed on his partner. Dazai was sitting on the floor in the shower, his back facing the door and his knees pulled up to his chest. He still had his boxers on for some reason but he was unclothed otherwise. Chuuya’s eyes trailed over the scars littering his back and how Dazai’s head seemed to be bowed, his forehead resting on his knees.
“Dazai?” Chuuya called.
No response.
“Dazai, hey.” He repeated, louder this time.
No response once more.
“Osamu.”
That got his attention. He lifted his head and turned his head just slightly to meet Chuuya’s worried eyes. “Chuu…ya…” he replied hoarsely.
Chuuya’s eyes softened and he approached, dropping down onto one knee just at the edge of the shower, ignoring his trousers that were slowly getting wet from the water. “Hey, what happened?” He wanted to reach out, hold Dazai close but he didn’t know if that was the right move right now.
“Odasaku…” Dazai began. That was one of Dazai’s closest friends, along with Ango. Chuuya had never spoken with them but he had seen them in passing and he knew how closely Dazai treasured them. “He –“
“Is he okay?” Chuuya asked.
“He’s dead.” Dazai whispered, barely audible over the shower. “He… died. In my arms. He – Mori – Mori orchestrated it and I –“ Dazai broke off, breath hitching as he dug his face back into his knees, hiding away. His body quivered and Chuuya’s heart broke.
“Osamu…” Chuuya murmured. “Can I… can I touch you?”
“You’ll get wet.”
“Don’t care. Can I?”
“…okay.”
Chuuya had never heard Dazai sound so downtrodden, so heart-wrenchingly upset and his body moved before he even realised it. He shuffled forward, under the pelting shower and wrapped his arms around Dazai from behind, snaking them and linking his fingers around Dazai’s front, resting his cheek against his partner’s scarred back, and pressing an absent-minded kiss against the scar closest to him.
He felt Dazai exhale shakily and he dragged his fingers up his chest gently. “’S okay, you can cry if you want to. I’m here. I’m here, and I’ll stay here. I’ve got you.”
It seemed like those were the right words because Dazai went boneless in his arms, sagging against his hold as his entire body shook with shuddering sobs and gasping breaths. Chuuya was silent, simply holding him as he cried and making sure he knew he wasn’t alone. His fingers brushed up and down Dazai’s chest and his lips fluttered over every scar he could find on Dazai’s back, pressing against each of them.
It took some time, but eventually Dazai’s tears ran dry and his body merely quivered in the aftermath, little hiccups shaking them. “You want to get out of the shower? I’ll make you some tea.”
“I’m tired.” Dazai replied, his voice hoarse from all the crying.
“We can take a nap.” Chuuya brushed a kiss to Dazai’s nape, dragging a hand through his wet locks fondly and nudging his head to kiss his cheek. “Come on, you’ll catch a cold.”
All Dazai could muster was a hum of acceptance as Chuuya helped him up and wrapped a towel around him and then one around himself after he stripped his wet clothes off. He led them to the closet in their bedroom and handed Dazai some sweatpants and a hoodie, wearing the same himself before he wrapped his fingers around Dazai’s hand and dragged him to the kitchen, seating him at the counter while he bustled around, putting the kettle on and popping a teabag into a mugs.
Dazai remained still where he was sitting, his chin resting on the palm of his hand as he observed the gravity manipulator flit around the kitchen, humming a little tune under his breath. His lips twitched up involuntarily when Chuuya turned around, the mug outstretched to Dazai, who took it and cupped his hands around it, sighing internally at the warmth that rushed through him. Chuuya rounded the counter and came behind Dazai, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and leaning against him.
“Chuuya –“
“Shut up and let me do this for you.” Dazai went silent, ignoring the burning in his eyes and sipped his tea. “I didn’t know Oda well but I know how much he meant to you… and if you say Mori did it, then I believe you. Do you… want to do something about it?”
Dazai mulled it over in his head, Odasaku’s words running through his thoughts, his last request. “I don’t know.” He finally answered. “I don’t know.”
“It’s okay to not know.” Chuuya replied, pressing a kiss to Dazai’s neck. “You don’t need to know now. You can take some time to think.”
“That’s okay?”
“’Course that’s okay.”
“Okay…”
“I’ll be here when you decide, and whatever you decide, I’ll stay there.” Chuuya said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay.” Dazai bowed his head, breathing in shakily, feeling a tear run down his cheek and fall into the mug. Chuuya felt the shudder that passed through his body and did nothing but tighten his hold on the brunet.
I’ve got you, Osamu.