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The guy on screen, Curt, if Dazai remembers correctly, revvs up his motorcycle a few more times. It reminds him of Chuuya and his cute, hot pink bike that he refuses to admit is any color but red.
He despises that vehicle, no matter how much the slug likes it. It’s a death trap, a painful one that he never wishes to be killed by, especially because the ginger doesn’t actually know how to drive it and just uses his ability to keep himself upright, something he can’t do when the bandaged man sits beside him.
His eyes shift over to the short man, the sounds of the TV falling away as he focuses his thoughts solely on his partner. Admittedly, they haven’t been dating for a long time, only about two months.
His little dog confessed to him first which was a huge relief since Dazai didn’t want to share his emotions in such a vulnerable manner. It was a little after they became executives, with the redhead inviting him to some fancy restaurant just to reveal his silly crush on his co-worker.
The hatrack wasn’t actually able to do it during dinner — apparently, with what the little mafioso told him afterwards, he got too nervous and decided to wait — but on the walk back to his penthouse.
The second the words came spilling out of the older’s mouth, the bandaged man said yes despite the fact that he knows how his tainted skin will marr that of Chuuya’s, how he loses everything he ever hopes to gain. He should have rejected him way before he got himself into this position; the state of how much he wishes to hold his slug, yet at the same time, he knows he can’t.
He watches as the ginger slowly shuffles closer to him just like what he’s been doing this whole night. Except, this time, their thighs press right against each other, shoulders as well, as his dog worms his way into his blanket. Fire ants crawl underneath his skin in the areas they have contact, a heat rising into his chest, making it feel tight.
Turning back to the movie, he tries to focus on anything but his lover sitting next to him. Back onto the way the motorcycle guy is hitting an invisible wall, the character falling into a ravine shortly after.
He attempts to ignore anything happening around him until he can’t. Until Chuuya is suddenly curling up next to him, grabbing onto his arm, gloves brushing past his elbow to clutch at his wrist. Ginger locks tickle his jaw as the man lays his head down on broad shoulders.
It stings, burns to the touch even through all the layers of bandages. Bearing the knowledge that the little mafioso will die if he continues to be affectionate with the other is more than he can handle. And this time, losing his partner would hurt worse than anything else he’s lost in his pathetic life because he loves the redhead, loves him too much to let him pass away, to force an early death upon him because of a simple touch.
It feels right to push people away, a means of protection for both him and the other person caught in his poison. Bringing a hand to his partner’s neck, an awkward position from how they’re seated, he shoves him back, using his other arm for help so he doesn’t break his wrist.
The shorter falls like dead weight onto the cushion next to him, blessedly away from the brunet.
He should feel better about this new predicament, but his chest now only hurts more with what must be that emotion Odasaku was talking about called guilt . When he looks back to his lover, the weight of guilt slowly crushes each one of his bones under invisible pressure.
Chuuya’s face is in an array of emotion, mainly confusion and worry.
His heart squeezes painfully, but he knows this has to be done before the other is tainted because of him, his horrid skin, and this curse he’s been burdened to live with. The shorter should recognize that this is good for them. That they shouldn’t get attached to each other in this way since it’s bound to slip past the bandaged man’s fingers and end up hurting both of them.
Except, his dog must be getting stupider as he immediately pushes himself back up, lifting a hand to gently grab at his arm. The younger pulls away, shifting himself closer to the other side of the couch.
“Leave me alone,” He says, emptying his voice of any emotion, his eyes going dark, and his tone cold.
He can see the way hurt flickers through blue-and-brown irises. Maybe it was cruel of him to force his slug away in this kind of manner, but he’s never been known for his kind side.
The ginger grits his teeth, “What the hell’s going on with you?”
The taller looks at his lap, ashamed of actually admitting the reason he pushed the other away. Would his slow dog even be able to understand? Was it too far out of his comprehension level?
He shoves the thoughts to the back of his mind. If he doesn’t explain soon, Chuuya might start yelling and cause a whole new conflict for the younger to fix, “You don’t deserve the consequences after holding me.”
“Dazai,” The slug starts, making sure the other is looking at him, “Y’know it’s fine to be held right? Nothing bad is gonna happen because of it.”
The brunet keeps a neutral expression while resorting to his usual behavior in an attempt to make things seem better than they are, “Chibi’s hat must truly be eating away at his already pea-sized brain if he believes that right after I explained the reasoning to him.”
“Don’t say that shit about me! And your reasoning sucked! No way would I listen to it,” His dog refuses to let up, though the usual yapping response calms some part of his heart down.
“Chuuya doesn’t understand. That’s how it’s always been.”
The redhead stares at him dumbly, “Nothing is gonna happen to me if we touch.”
“No!” He shouts, frustrated that his lover wasn’t understanding, “I’ve always been cursed to kill people after touching them.”
There is a short pause before the hatrack talks again, trying to disprove every point Dazai made with a few simple words, “You can’t kill people by touching them, stupid.”
Dazai doesn’t say anything in response, he only looks away from the little mafioso. He doesn’t understand the brunet’s dilemma. It was dumb of him to even try and explain it to the slug.
They soon fall into a tense silence with the only noise around them emitting from the television. A few moments later, his dog breaks it, “Do you want to try and cuddle again?”
He swallows thickly, hesitating with his reply, “...Okay,” He’d have to cuddle with the ginger eventually. It would be better to get it over with now.
The shorter raises an eyebrow but, otherwise, doesn’t say anything, only focuses on closing the gap between the two.
Dazai’s uncovered eye stares at the man slowly inching towards him, accepting the horrible fate of having to plague the other with his touch. That fact alone should deter the ginger, the certainty of being cursed from a simple form of affection, but it doesn’t. Instead, it draws him closer to the brunet, leaving the younger confused as to why Chuuya would ever want to hold him.
He has to remind himself that his slug chose to try and embrace him despite the negative consequences he was warned about. In fact, his dog decided to ignore everything the taller openly shared with him for a moment of contact.
Bile rises to his throat at the thought of his lover being taken away from him. It’s something that he never wants to happen even if he claims to hate the older. Therefore, they shouldn’t be allowed to ever graze skin together unless absolutely necessary.
It isn’t that he doesn’t want Chuuya to love him. He wants him and the ginger to be able to partake in acts of intimacy like the people he has seen in movies do. It would just be selfish of him to ask for such a thing when he knows that the shorter would only be hexed and die or have something equally worse happen if he so much as brushed the brunet’s knuckles.
He stares at the man crawling towards him. It’s the brunet’s fault that they can’t be close, that their relationship is doomed to fail, that Chuuya won’t be able to live—
A small flick to the forehead interrupts him from his thoughts, “Hey, dumbass, what did I just say? You’re not gonna kill me because you touched me.”
“Slug’s being—”
“Quit spewing bullshit about a stupid curse,” Chuuya rolls his eyes before grabbing onto the brunet’s shoulders. In a softer tone, “Nothing bad’s gonna happen, alright?”
Dazai gives a slight nod, not truly believing the syllables his lover articulates, but unable to find the words that would make him back away.
His dog must’ve sniffed out his hesitation because, soon after, a hand reaches up to cup the taller’s cheek, “See? You aren’t gonna hurt me.”
The comforting statement only serves to make the suicidal man want to shout at Chuuya for misunderstanding the curse. Tell him that it won’t take effect instantly and push the other’s palm off of him.
Instead, he finds himself indulging in the fantasy that everything will be fine as his dog’s arms move to wrap around him. They pull him close to the shorter’s frame and push his head into the ginger’s chest, leaning himself back against the armrest while Dazai rests on Chuuya’s torso.
One hand continues to hold him tight as the other reaches up to gently play with chocolate brown hair, occasionally twirling the locks between his fingers and softly tugging out tangles.
Despite everything that might happen, the curse he’s bound to place on the ginger, Dazai can’t help but relax in the embrace. It’s selfish, he knows. Wanting the touch of someone even after understanding that something terrible will happen to them is greedy, but it’s near impossible for him to pull away now. Especially after his slug begins to lightly scratch at his scalp in the way the younger never knew he liked. He finds himself thinking about the next time they would do this.
Smiling softly, he turns his attention back onto the movie with a strange feeling bubbling inside of his chest at the thought of cuddling with Chuuya again.
He’d have to ask Odasaku about it later.