Archive of Our Own ^beta

In all the years that Atsushi has worked for the Armed Detective Agency, he has never once seen Dazai-san frazzled. The man is always unruffled, calm, and all-knowing. He doesn’t bother attending the team meetings but ends up playing a big role in making things better in the end anyway. He has a mystery factor to him, but talking to him makes you feel like you know everything about him – when you really know nothing. It’s a talent, Atsushi thinks. Atsushi likes to believe that they’ve all come to rely on Dazai-san as a pillar of strength and reassurance, and he’s especially grateful for him for all that he has done for Atsushi.

So it’s a shock to his system when Dazai-san bursts through the agency door carrying a heap of red in his arms on a Monday morning, looking extremely disheveled and desperate, startling everyone in the room.

Atsushi stares slack-jawed at the body in his arms. The body that is limp and steadily dripping blood on the floor. The body that suspiciously resembles a certain mafia member.

What the hell is happening.

Kunikida jumps up, frowning. “Dazai, what–”

“Where’s Yosano-san?” Dazai-san snaps, and it’s only now that Atsushi is noticing the splatters of blood on his face, and the wild look in his eyes. “Where is she?” he reiterates, cold fury flashing across his face when the room is too shocked to answer right away.

“Right here,” Yosano-san emerges from her clinic, observing the situation with sharp eyes. She seems to quickly grasp what’s happening and tsks in annoyance. “Does your mafiaso have a death wish, Dazai?”

“Help him.” Dazai-san says, and it isn’t an order, but it’s not exactly a request, either. Atsushi has never seen his face so blank before, and he’s sure it can’t mean anything good.

Yosano-san crosses her arms, unbothered. “Why? You know there will be serious consequences if I do.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Dazai-san says shortly, leaving no room for any further argument.

Yosano-san sighs in exasperation. “Fine. Follow me.”

They both disappear into the clinic, and the door shuts behind them. Atsushi immediately turns to Kunikida with widened eyes, full of questions.

“Was that Chuuya-san?” He asks, though he already knows. “Why would Dazai-san…”

“Yes, it was him.” Kunikida confirms, face grim. “Dazai has a complicated relationship with his ex-partner, and we all like to leave it at that. Still, bringing him here will cost us, so it wasn’t the best decision.”

“I’ve never seen him so worried,” Kyouka comments quietly from behind her little cubicle, expression contemplative.

Atsushi frowns in confusion. “Worried?” Was that what it was, then? It would make sense, but considering he’s never seen Dazai-san like that before, he can’t exactly make any good guesses.

“Are they lovers?” Naomi asks dreamily.

Tanizaki lets out a nervous laugh beside her. “That’s not really our business, is it?”

“It is not.” Kunikida confirms sternly. “Get back to work, all of you. The paperwork won’t write itself.”

Atsushi obediently sits back down, but he keeps glancing towards the clinic that stays closed.

Lovers. Atsushi tries to imagine it, and he’s surprised how much sense that makes.

Huh.

Chuuya does something he never thought he’d do again. He wakes up.

What’s worse, he wakes up in a disgustingly familiar and pathetically small clinic of the goddamned agency, and the first thing he does is make eye contact with the she-devil doctor with the freakishly good healing powers.

“The fuck am I doing here, doc?” he rasps out, because really, what the fuck? He was fine to die, thank you very much, so waking up after that peaceful acceptance is frankly embarrassing, and if he is dead and this is what heaven or hell looks like, he’d rather go back to sleep. For good this time.

Yosano shoots him a look that’s almost amused. “You shouldn’t be asking me that question.”

Chuuya feels both a migraine and fury coming on, but he tries to breathe through it. “It was that fucking bastard again, wasn’t it?”

Yosano hums. “I don’t care about whatever it is that’s going on between the both of you. Let me just do my job. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Chuuya mutters. “Like death, but clearly I’m far from it.”

Yosano eyes him skeptically before snorting. “You’re kinda funny, for such a short person. I’ll take it, in any case. Just make sure to rest and sleep it off.”

“What did you just call me?” Chuuya demands, gaping at the woman and her audacity.

Yosano is indifferent. “And get off the agency premises as soon as possible. We don’t want any more trouble than we already have.”

Chuuya simply glares at her in return.

Yosano is apparently not done. “And stop being stupid, will you? You came in with a severe concussion, crushed ribs, and the kind of internal bleeding that made even me blanch. It wasn’t pretty, and you wouldn’t have survived if it wasn’t for my conveniently available ability. Dazai knew that, so he brought you here. Don’t hold that against him.”

Indignation flares up inside Chuuya. “I don’t need that asshole to save me.” I don’t want to fucking owe him shit.

Yosano just huffs. “Why did you even use your destructive ability without him around?”

“That’s what I keep wondering,” a voice says from the shadows, and Chuuya turns his head to stare at Dazai, who’s just been sitting there in the dark watching him for God knows how long. What a creep, honestly. His face is expressionless, but his eyes hold laser-like intensity. Chuuya knows what that means. A shiver slithers down his spine.

“I’ll let you handle it,” Yosano says shortly, glancing at Chuuya one last time before taking her leave. Chuuya tries not to feel betrayed.

He doesn’t waste time yelling at Dazai. “What the fuck?!”

“That should be my line,” Dazai says calmly, glaring at Chuuya.

Chuuya is baffled. “What am I doing here, shitty Dazai?”

“What are you doing here alive, or what are you doing here, in my agency?”

Chuuya flounders before swallowing. “Both.” He grits out.

Dazai ignores him as usual. “Why did you activate corruption without letting me know beforehand?”

“I don’t need you around, that’s fucking why,” Chuuya snaps back.

Dazai abruptly stands, stepping closer to Chuuya. “I don’t disagree, but this situation asked for my presence, I’d say, considering I’m the only person who can nullify your ability and ensure your safety.”

“And that makes you feel special, does it?” Chuuya sneers, raising a brow.

Dazai’s expression finally breaks into a heavy scowl. “What good is feeling special when I can’t even be there when I need to be, Chuuya? Do you even know…” Dazai shuts down at this, lips thinning. “I found you in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by your own destruction, bleeding out and almost dead. How do you think that made me feel?”

Chuuya eyes him warily. “I want to say happy, but something tells me that’s not the right answer.”

For once, it’s Dazai who looks completely done with him. “Why did you do it?” he grits out.

“The situation had gotten out of control,” Chuuya explains, because it really had. “I don’t know if your agency has been getting reports of the monster that was roaming Yokohama recently, but that’s the one I was fighting. It wouldn’t budge; he was eating up weapons like it was a fucking feast, and everything just seemed to make him stronger, so boss told me I was their last hope. No, don’t look at me like that⸺I take orders seriously. I do what I’m fucking told, unlike you. You know this. Besides, too many lives were already lost. There was no time to call for back-up or anything else. I did what I had to do.”

“Do you lack common sense?” Dazai demands. “It would take less than a minute to shoot me a text. Make a call. Hell, you could’ve asked one of your useless subordinates to contact me if your pride was too big for you to do it.”

Chuuya is annoyed, but he’s mostly chastised. “Who even called you?”

“Who do you think?” Dazai snaps. “Mori-san did. He was quite gleeful about it, too, and he made sure he didn’t call me until the very last minute.”

“Mori-san tends to be sadistic sometimes,” Chuuya muses, discomfort spreading in his chest.

Dazai ignores this. “Did you want to die that badly?”

Chuuya looks up to find Dazai’s eyes fixed on him. He wishes he could gouge them out. He wishes he could stare into them forever. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he whispers.

“Do you still resent me for leaving?” Dazai asks, voice equally hushed. “Are you still punishing me for it?”

How is my death your punishment?

But Chuuya is a coward, so he never says that. Instead, he’s indignant. “The fuck are you on about? You know I’ve never cared about you leaving. You’re not the first to do it⸺you won’t be the last. Besides…” Chuuya lifts a shoulder in indifference. “You belong here more.”

It’s the truth. No matter how much he hates Dazai, no matter how many disagreements they have, no matter how much he misses their partnership, no matter how many grudges he holds, he knows what Dazai did was for the best. He’s a better person for it, too, so good for him. If Chuuya was in his position, he wouldn’t have done the same, but that’s because his loyalty was to Mori. But Chuuya wasn’t Dazai. Mori had never done Dazai any favours, and Chuuya wasn’t blind to that. A person can be someone’s saviour while being another’s nightmare at the same time. And…

“You did what was right for you, especially after someone you loved was ripped away from you.” Chuuya adds. “Anyone would have done the same.”

Dazai gives him a dubious look. “Except you.”

“That’s different,” Chuuya counters. “I’m loyal.”

Dazai flinches, as if he’s just been slapped across the face. Chuuya realises what he just said sounded like, and his eyes widen in alarm. “No! I didn’t mean⸺that’s not what I meant.” He rushes to say. “Seriously, that’s not what I fucking meant. I’m just saying that Mori has my loyalty… and he never had yours. You were under no obligation to stay.”

Dazai just looks angrier. “So if you don’t resent me, and your braincells were intact, why didn’t you call me?”

And it’s for such a silly goddamned reason that Chuuya can’t help but be honest.

His eyes shoot down to his lap. “I didn’t think you’d care enough,” he mumbles.

“What?”

“I didn’t think you’d bother showing up, okay?” Chuuya snaps, louder now. Jesus, does it have to be this big of a deal? He’s been in forced proximity with the bane of his existence for long enough now, and he just wants to go home and sleep for two days straight before he does something stupid.

Dazai lets out a harsh laugh, making Chuuya jump. “You didn’t think I’d care,” he echoes, looking dangerously close to a breakdown.

Chuuya blinks at him warily. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes,” Dazai bursts out, and Chuuya stares in awe, because it isn’t everyday Osamu Dazai loses his cool so spectacularly, and it’s fascinating to watch. Chuuya doesn’t know why he finds it entirely too attractive. A lot of things are wrong with him. “Yes, I can, actually, and I will. Exactly what kind of heartless bastard do you think I am? I help people; that’s kind of my whole thing now, Chuuya.”

Chuuya just stares at him. “Okay,”

“No,” Dazai finally closes the distance between them, gripping the edge of Chuuya’s bed as he leans alarmingly close. “No, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to shut me out right now. We have been partners since we were fifteen, and you’re telling me you think I wouldn’t show up if you asked? Especially for corruption? Are you hearing yourself?”

“We were partners,” Chuuya corrects, mostly to get on the prat’s nerves. “We’re nothing to each other anymore.”

Dazai extends a hand to brush away Chuuya’s red curls. His look is piercing in a way it only gets when it’s just the both of them. “You will never be nothing to me, chibi. You make it impossible for me to ignore you, let alone forget about you.”

Chuuya tries not to look away. Something in his chest convulses, and he wants to cry out of nowhere, and he’s just so tired. He shrugs in defeat. “And I’ll always trust you with my life, so stop bitching about it already.”

Dazai’s face is unreadable again. “Except for today, apparently.”

Chuuya scowls. “Let it fucking go already, dammit.”

“Don’t give me that. You could’ve died⸺”

“But I didn’t.”

“You were dying⸺”

“And you didn’t let me.”

“⸺you’re always so thoughtless and self-sacrificial⸺”

“⸺watch your fucking mouth, oi⸺”

“⸺valuing loyalty over everything else like the damned dog you are⸺”

“⸺I have a fucking job to do, goddamnit⸺”

“Don’t do it, then!” Dazai cuts him off, seething, nostrils flaring, eyes darkened with emotion. “Don’t do it when it comes at the expense of your life. Don’t do it when I’m not there to protect you from yourself.”

Chuuya reaches for Dazai’s arm, and he discovers that the lanky bastard is shaking, and he can’t help but sigh in exasperation. “I knew you’d come.” He admits slowly. “I may not have called you, but Mori would never lose me as an asset. It was just a test, and I passed with flying colours. I’m not surprised. So just let it go.”

“No, because it doesn’t change anything,” Dazai grits out.

Chuuya glares at him, affronted. “What do you want from me?!”

“I want,” Dazai starts, seething, expression thunderous, “for you to call me for help. I want you, you stubborn little dog, to have enough sense of self-preservation to ask me to be there in case you need to activate corruption. I want you to use your brain a little, even if that sounds just a little difficult for you.”

Chuuya draws back, stung. “If you think I’m going to grovel at your feet to come save me after all these years, you’re dead wrong, asshole,” he snaps, anger flooding his chest. “Fuck what you want, Dazai.”

Dazai straightens and runs a hand through his hair, looking distraught. It’s so different from how he usually looks that Chuuya can only stare. He can admit that a part of him is enjoying this. He’s reveling pulling all these emotions out of this bastard. It’s only fair that Chuuya isn’t the only one being affected, after all this time.

Chuuya hears Dazai muttering under his breath and sighs. “Just drop it, Dazai.” He tries. “I’m tired.”

Dazai’s eyes switch to him, bright and full of life. “You could’ve died,” he whispers harshly.

“We’ve established,” Chuuya says firmly. “But you didn’t let me. I’m alive. It’s over. It’s fine.”

“That’s not the point, Chuuya,” Dazai insists, looking so very cross with him.

Chuuya’s lips twitch. “Oh, yeah?” he raises a challenging eyebrow. “What is the point, then?”

“You’re not allowed to die,” Dazai tells him, face tightened with fury.

Chuuya gives him a look that hopefully tells him how ridiculous he’s being. “Sure, as if that makes any sense.”

“You don’t trust me enough,” Dazai declares, and his voice cracks. He clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. The anger seems to have drained out of him. He just looks a little petulant now.

Any other day, and Chuuya would snap at him to stop. To shut the fuck up. To remember that of course he doesn’t trust him enough, not after he betrayed him and left him behind. But that’s untrue, because Chuuya isn’t even mad at him for that, and he’s exhausted, and he does trust him, despite his better judgement, and he knows now is not the time. So he decides to be gentle just this one time.

“I trust you just fine,” he says softly, hoping to be reassuring. I miss you all the time. Chuuya swallows. “I told you, I knew you’d come⸺”

“I need you to trust me enough to call me yourself!” Dazai bursts out, eyes flaring. He lifts Chuuya’s chin up with two fingers, and his touch burns, and Chuuya inhales a sharp breath. “I need you to know that I’ll come for you,” Dazai goes on, voice hushed now. His eyes have dropped to Chuuya’s mouth. Chuuya feels it go dry. “I will always come for you. Trust me enough to know that.”

Chuuya feels his heart start beating faster like the stupid organ it is, but he makes himself meet Dazai’s eyes. “Alright,” he relents. “I’ll fucking call you next time. In fact, I’ll leave you so many fucking calls that you’ll grow sick of me. Don’t come whining to me then. I’m fucking warning you.”

Dazai smiles slightly, his grip softening on Chuuya’s face now, becoming more exploring. Chuuya holds his breath and tries not to show how much it’s affecting him.

“Impossible,” Dazai tells him absently, his fingers brushing against his cheek lightly. He seems entranced, lips parted, eyes trained on Chuuya.

Chuuya is a weak, weak man when it comes to his old partner. He hates himself for it a little bit, but not enough to hold back anymore.

“Dazai,” he says, voice thick.

Dazai’s eyes lock with his. He seems calmer now, no longer as spooked as he did minutes ago. “Hmm?”

“Come here,” Chuuya demands.

Dazai’s eyes grow lidded, and a light smirk grazes his lips as he leans forward as asked. Both his hands come up to frame Chuuya’s face. Chuuya’s eyes flutter, and his breathing deepens.

“What do you need?” Dazai asks, and he’s so full of shit because he already knows.

But Chuuya knows how this goes. “Kiss me,” he says, and he wants it to come out dry, but it sounds breathless instead. He flushes pink.

Dazai’s eyes darken, and his gaze is fixed on Chuuya’s mouth again. He lets out a harsh breath, eyebrows furrowing as if he’s fighting himself. Chuuya knows he wants to kiss him. And he wants to be kissed, so he doesn’t know what the fuss is all about.

“Dazai,” Chuuya says, glaring now. He’s never been known for his patience.

Dazai doesn’t move, just looks at him contemplatively, “Promise me you’ll never use corruption again without telling me, and I will.”

Chuuya bristles and goes to protest, but Dazai doesn’t let him. “Promise me, Chuuya. I’m not going to risk this happening again. You don’t want me to meddle with your subordinates and make them spy on you, do you?”

Chuuya glares at him with the heat of a thousand suns. He knows it’s impractical to promise something like this. Dazai won’t always be there, won’t always be available, so how the hell is Chuuya supposed to promise that he’ll call? That he’ll wait? He wants to, that much he knows, but it’s more complicated than that.

“You know it’s not that simple,” Chuuya snaps, unexpectedly struck with a strong emotion that makes his eyes sting.

Dazai shakes his head. “We’ll figure it out,” he says. “I just need your word.”

Chuuya rolls his eyes, huffing. “Fine. I fucking promise, or whatever. Now kiss me before I fucking–”

Dazai kisses him, and Chuuya’s threat abruptly dies in his throat. Dazai nudges his nose against his and presses their mouths together. The kiss is soft at first, searching and languid. Chuuya melts into the touch, giving up his mouth for the taking. He bites Dazai’s bottom lip playfully, pulling a punched-out breath from him. He smiles. Dazai kisses his smile.

Then suddenly, Dazai yanks him up and pulls him into his lap. Chuuya yelps in surprise, gripping Dazai’s shoulders to avoid crashing on the floor. Dazai grips him like a lifeline, and their kisses turn bruising, almost desperate, as Dazai runs his hands over Chuuya. He seems to be wanting to make sure that Chuuya is here, that he’s okay, that he’s in his arms. Chuuya lets him, knowing that he needs this.

Dazai pulls back a little, breathing hard. Chuuya watches him with lidded eyes.

“You’re alive,” Dazai says, looking dazed. “You didn’t die. You’re okay. Nothing has happened to you. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

Chuuya sighs and doesn’t point out that out of the two of them, he’s the protector, and proud about it, too, thank you very much. But he finds this display of rare emotion oddly sweet, so he allows it.

“Dazai,” Chuuya tugs his hair, making their eyes meet. He looks up at him from under his lashes, and Dazai’s breath hitches. “Stop talking. Come here. Won’t you come here?”

“Fuck,” is all Dazai says before attacking Chuuya again, more firmly this time. He rakes his teeth over Chuuya’s bottom lip and pulls at it. Sensation spikes up Chuuya’s spine and he lets out a pleased sound right into Dazai’s mouth. Dazai only pulls him closer, his arms banded around Chuuya, almost as if he wants to fuse them both together. Their tongues meet, and Chuuya can only hold on as Dazai positively ravages his mouth. He sucks at his tongue and Chuuya releases a whine, growing restless, a place low in his gut starting to throb.

Chuuya breaks the kiss, needing air, feeling light-headed. He’s still recovering, so he’s not his regular self. He’s a little angry at himself for it. He tucks his head under Dazai’s chin and rests it against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat, letting it ground him.

“Baby,” Dazai says, and Chuuya’s cheeks grow red. He shuts his eyes against it.

“Dazai,” is all he can manage.

Dazai runs an arm down Chuuya’s back. “You’re so sweet,” he murmurs. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Sap,” Chuuya shoots back.

Dazai laughs. “You’re exhausted.”

Chuuya nods, drowsy now. He feels Dazai lifting him once again and laying him down on the bed, running a hand through his untidy hair.

Chuuya opens his eyes. Dazai stares back at him, lips swollen, hair ruffled. His face is softened, his gaze thoughtful.

“Rest,” Dazai says. “You need it.”

Chuuya blinks at him.

Dazai smiles slightly and leans in and kisses his forehead. “So beautiful.” He murmurs. He kisses his cheek. “So alive.” His other cheek. “So lovely. My Chuuya.”

Chuuya sighs, finding all this so strange. Who would have known it’d take corruption to unlock sweet Dazai? It’s strange, but not unpleasant. In fact, he should’ve done it sooner.

“Sleep,” Dazai says again. “We’ll figure it out when you wake up.”

Chuuya hums sleepily, reveling in Dazai’s soft touch against his face. He’s wanted it for years, and now that he has it, nothing compares. Nothing ever will.

He drifts off with a smile still stuck to his lips.