Work Text:
Day 2 - Camellias | Floral Troubles | “You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”
Disaster had struck.
It was the day of Dazai and Chuuya’s first date and Dazai wanted it to be perfect. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that this wasn’t just a prank that Chuuya was pulling on him, and he was more than slightly worried that the shorter man thought this whole thing was a joke. He wanted to show Chuuya that he could be good dating material, and that he was genuine in his feelings about him. He didn’t know what he would do if Chuuya showed up and expected this to be a ‘friendly’ get-together where they’d laugh about how stupid the idea of them dating was; if he was anybody other than Osamu Dazai he would surely cry. So he had naturally sought advice from a trusted mentor, one who had watched over them as they had grown together. Surely he could get some excellent advice from them, right?
Okay. In all fairness, Hirotsu’s advice had actually been pretty good. Its just that Dazai was a complete dumbass, and had forgotten in his eagerness that certain gifts, like flowers for example, had expiry dates, and couldn’t be bought too soon, lest they risked being ruined by the time you needed them. This oversight was what lead him to his current predicament, sat in his living room, staring at a bouquet of wilted red camellias.
This had to be some kind of bad omen. Perhaps he should chuck the flowers and flee, pray that Chuuya really did take this whole thing as a joke, and laugh about how dumb this whole idea was whilst pretending that his poor excuse of a heart wasn’t breaking into a billion tiny pieces, never to be repaired.
Yeah. That was a good idea. Thats what he’d do. He just needed to—
Knock Knock
Fucking shit.
Of course Chuuya would arrive early. Of course he would! At this point, Dazai was willing to bet large sums of money that Chuuya had some sort of sixth sense for when Dazai was about to do something dumb. A sense that Dazai himself very clearly did not possess. If he did, he would’ve at least tried to hide the sad scene of his ruined gift before answering the door for its intended recipient.
Of course, he realised his mistake the second he opened the door, and instantly tried to slam it shut again. Not that it worked. Chuuya had already managed to shove his foot in the doorway, and he was not impressed at Dazai’s blatant attempt to keep him out.
“What the hell, Mackerel?” He hissed, silently thanking whatever deity there was that Dazai hadn’t put too much force into slamming the door on him, as he’d rather not have to deal with a crushed foot alongside whatever bullshit his partner had gotten into this time. This was supposed to be a date night, not a clean-up-after-Dazai one.
“How rude, Slug!” Dazai pouted, as he pushed slightly harsher against the door, “I was under the impression that Kouyou had taught you manners and social cues in those etiquette lessons she had you take; surely you should be able to tell when you aren’t welcome!”
His voice rang out like annoyingly shrill bells, and it was clear that it grated on Chuuya’s nerves by the way he was shouting.
“Not welcome?! You were the one who arranged for us to meet at your place, shitty bastard!” He cursed, trying to push his way inside so he could give that stinky Mackerel a piece of his mind.
“Yes, but that was ages ago, Chuuya! Things have changed, and I’m busy now—so come back later or something!” The taller man whines petulantly, unable to hide the slightest twinge of desperation in his voice.
“Bullshit!” Chuuya immediately called out, “Mackerel, if you don’t let me in right now, I’ll kick your damn door down!”
“Whaaaat?! That’s not fair! Chuuya wasn’t due to arrive for another half hour, so its actually his fault that I’m not ready yet. He should wait outside patiently like a good doggy!”
“Who the hell are you calling ‘doggy’, shithead?!” Chuuya shoved the door open, causing Dazai to stumble back in the process. Clearly this was a blessing in disguise, as his lanky body managed to hide the failed bouquet from immediate view.
“Ow! Chuuya’s sooooo mean!” Dazai whined performatively, making big sweeping movements so that he could manoeuvre the bouquet from view. It was a genius plan. A true masterpiece. A tribute to his superior intellect and strategising skills—
“What the hell are you hiding over there?”
—or not! It was actually an awful plan. A dumb, shitty dumpster fire of a plan. A tribute to his stupidity.
“Oi! I asked you what you were hiding, at no point did I say to start moping!” Chuuya attempted to peer around Dazai, trying to get a glimpse of the thing that the other man was making such a fuss over.
Dazai let out a surprised yelp, falling flat on his ass in his attempt to keep it away.
Unfortunately, his half-baked plan was all in vain, as on the table, now in clear view of Chuuya, was the bouquet of wilting flowers. Dazai could only cringe and wait for the worst.
“What— are those… flowers?” Chuuya asked softly, his demeanour doing a complete U-turn now that he knew what was being hidden from him.
Dazai merely shrugged, his ears tinged pink from the embarrassment of his long-time crush/partner seeing the pathetic display his gift now made.
Chuuya slowly lifted the flowers into his arms, barely suppressing a startled jump as one of the wilted flower heads dropped off, bouncing off of his shoe before hitting the floor. Despite Dazai’s fears, the shorter man seemed oddly… happy? He certainly wasn’t shouting at Dazai for getting him such a shitty gift, or worse, giving him that disappointed look that he always got when Dazai truly messed up. Which was… odd. Certainly this counted as a fuck up, right? The flowers had all wilted, for heaven’s sake! Textbook awful gift, if you asked Dazai.
Instead, Chuuya gave him an oddly fond look.
“Did you get these for me…?” He asked, eyebrow slightly raised.
Dazai nodded dully, the smallest of pouts worming its way onto his face. Surely this would be the part where Chuuya made fun of him, for being a sap, or for not knowing basic flower care. Truly, he was the worst at romance.
“They’re beautiful. Thank you, Osamu.”
He was the best at romance. Practically a god at it. He showed unrivalled romantic prowess, clearly, as somehow Chuuya not only didn’t hate his flowers, but had even thanked him for them and called them beautiful. All Dazai could do was stare at his partner in shock.
“O— Osa…?” Dazai choked out, rendered utterly speechless.
Chuuya chuckled quietly, shifting the flowers into one arm and reaching out to Dazai with his now free hand.
“Is this why you weren’t letting me in?”
Dazai went a bright shade of pink, defending his actions with a spluttered protest: “They’re wilting! Some of them are going brown, they’re meant to be red!”
“Mmm… they don’t look so bad. Most of them aren’t too wilted yet, some might even be salvageable.”
“Well— Chuuya doesn’t deserve just salvageable! Chuuya deserves the best! The best of the best! The crème de la crème of flowers!” Dazai whined, crossing his arms childishly.
Chuuya hummed noncommittally, observing the paper used to wrap the bouquet instead of listening. A small grin made its way onto his face as he noticed that Dazai had likely done the wrapping paper himself, if the doodles scattered across it were anything to go by.
“Well Chuuya likes what you got him, shouldn’t that be what matters?” He asked pointedly.
“Bu— but—!”
“Ah-ah. No buts,” he tutted, “besides, they’re the best of the best to me… I’m thinking of pressing one of them into a scrapbook page, or perhaps i should turn one into a bookmark…”
Dazai says nothing at this point, instead choosing to draw closer to his date.
“C’mon you lump. Up you get.” Chuuya gripped Dazai’s hand, hauling him up off the floor so that he wasn’t ruining his trousers by scooting across the floor on his ass.
“Ughhhhh…” Dazai went partially limp, making Chuuya’s job of getting him up slightly more difficult. He really just wanted to sink into the floor and disappear, why was Chuuya forcing him to stand?!
“Ah, right!” Chuuya perked up abruptly, ignoring Dazai’s complaints as he remembered why he was there in the first place, “are we still going to that restaurant you couldn’t stop talking about? Or would you rather we stay home, watch a movie together?”
An expression that uncannily resembled that of a deer-in-headlights briefly flashed across Dazai’s face before he could school it.
On the one hand, he really did not want to be around other people today—who knew that worrying over something so unimportant could cost so much energy?
On the other hand, today was supposed to be perfect. A perfect first date to prove to Chuuya that they would be a good match, and sure, Chuuya had been happy enough with the sub-par bouquet, but that was flowers. Could he really just switch from the plan of going to an (overly-expensive) restaurant, that served food that suited both of their tastes, to… something they do all the time? Especially when the worrying that cost all his energy was caused by his own failure…?
He voiced as such to Chuuya, figuring that since some of the (many, many) guides he’d read online had said that communication was key, he should at least try and ask. He felt his stomach twist as Chuuya gave him a confused look.
“Our… first date?”
Shit.
“Uhm— yeah— is that not…?”
Something was wrong.
“Osamu… how long do you think we’ve been together?”
Something was very, very wrong.
“…I— …since I asked you on this date, a few weeks back?”
Chuuya gave him a blank look, slowly turning away to take a deep breath.
“Is that— is that not right?” Dazai mumbled, unsure of himself. Judging by Chuuya’s reaction, he was almost certain that it wasn’t.
“‘Samu… we’ve been together for… years, at this point.”
“Years?” He croaked, knowing he probably looked like a young kid who’d just found out that Santa wasn’t real.
“You asked me out after that mission, remember? The one where you had to wear a ball gown, and almost killed that guy for staring at you, that one?”
Dazai’s normally impeccable memory was clearly failing him, because while he did remember the mission, he had absolutely no clue when he had apparently gained the confidence of at least fifty Dazais and asked Chuuya out.
Clearly his confusion showed on his face, because Chuuya let out a long-suffering groan, dragging his hands down his face.
“Is this why you never kissed me?! I thought you were just, like, touch adverse or something, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by bringing it up! But you just— you didn’t know we were dating? This whole time?!”
The only thing Dazai could think was ‘I could’ve been kissing Chuuya?!’
He cursed the high heavens for allowing him to forget, robbing him of so many years worth of— of— of romantic stuff! That was so unfair! He was worried over literally nothing!
A small, defeated noise escaped him, as he realised the irony of him having worried that Chuuya would think they were just friends, when he’d apparently been doing that exact thing to him. For years.
“…Why didn’t you tell me?!” He latched onto Chuuya’s fancy shirt, shaking him slightly.
“How would I have even known to tell you, huh!? I was under the impression that you knew!”
“Of course I didn’t know! Did it not strike you as suspicious that we’ve done basically no couple stuff?!”
“No couple stuff—?! Dazai we practically live together! You spend more time at mine than you do anywhere else!” Chuuya grabbed Dazai’s shoulder with his free hand, shaking him back.
“That’s not couple stuff! People have roommates!”
“Roommates don’t sleep in the same bed!”
“I get cold! Not my fault that Chuuya is so warm and accommodating!”
“God you’re insufferable!” Chuuya shoved Dazai’s hands away from him, bringing his free hand back to cradle the bouquet again, giving him a pointed look.
They stood in an awkward stalemate, neither quite willing to admit fault—Dazai in how some of the things they’d done over the years were definitely ‘coupley’ in hindsight; Chuuya in how maybe he should’ve been at least a little suspicious. The silence rang louder than their actual argument.
Eventually Dazai cracked, draping himself over Chuuya’s shoulders from behind with a childish whine.
“This is so unfair…” he grumbled, pouting.
“Mhm…”
“I mean! We could’ve been doing couple stuff this whole time! Like, proper couple stuff! Like going on dates, or showing each other off to our friends—“
“We would not have shown each other off, Dazai.”
“—showing each other off to our friends, I could’ve fed you stuff off my plate—“
“More like I’d feed you stuff off my plate…”
“—let me grieve in peace Chuuya! We could’ve— we could’ve— you know!” Dazai gestured as best as he could whilst remaining attached to Chuuya like a human shaped octopus.
A small smirk graced Chuuya’s features, “I don’t think I do know, Dazai. What else could we have done?”
He used his pointer finger to tilt Dazai’s face towards his own.
“I— I don’t— Chuuya’s trying to embarrass me!” Dazai cried out, wriggling and writhing in a flustered attempt to hide his face from Chuuya.
“…You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.” Chuuya chuckled.
Dazai flushed a shade of bright red, mouth gaping wordlessly, like a fish out of water.
Chuuya waited patiently for Dazai to regain his bearings, leaning a little closer so that they would hardly need to move to make their lips touch.
“…S’not my fault that Chuuya’s so pretty and…” his face scrunched up, the appropriate word escaping him, before he just settled on “…kissable.”
“Pretty and kissable, huh? I should put that on my résumé.” Chuuya joked.
It was a quick thing, when Dazai pressed their lips together, yet they both wound up grinning like fools. They soon leant back in for a second and third kiss, and so on.
“…Forget the restaurant,” Chuuya sighed against Dazai’s lips, “I just wanna go home with you right now. You didn’t make a reservation right? We can reschedule?”
Dazai nodded, deciding it better to not mention that he had, in fact, made a reservation. It was the only way to guarantee them a spot at that fancy place, especially on his agency salary. He’d have to call in and cancel it when Chuuya was busy and wouldn’t notice.
“I want to go home with Chuuya too.” He admitted quietly.
“C’mon then.” Chuuya gently encouraged him to move from his position of being draped over the shorter man, until it was comfortable for them both to walk. Chuuya didn’t even hesitate before grabbing his hand to guide him out, much to his delight. It helped him keep his mind off the wilting flowers that Chuuya, for some reason, insisted on keeping.
If a vase of fresh red camellias was found on Chuuya’s dining room table not a week later, neither man brought it up.
-
EXTRA:
“So…”
“So…?”
“You really had no idea, huh?”
“No! I already said so, why would I lie about that?”
“No— I’m not trying to be accusing, Dazai.”
“…Then why…?”
“It’s just— it’s kinda funny in hindsight.”
“…Funny?!”
“Yeah! I mean, how did you not notice?! I swear I had to start googling ‘nice things to call your lover’ because I was running out after using so many!”
“…What— what are you talking about, Chuuya?”
“Y’know! Terms of endearment, petnames, whatever— I used them all the time!”
“No you didn’t!?”
“I so did! I used them in front of people too! Just ask Hirotsu—I know you still talk to him, don’t give me that look—he was there for a good chunk of them!”
“…Those!?”
“Yeah!”
“Chuuya, I thought you were trying to make fun of me! Half of those ‘terms of endearment’ just sounded like insults!”
“No they didn’t!”
“Yes, they did! You called me— fuckin’— sweetie pie in front of Mori! I was so sure you had found out about my crush on you and that you were making fun of me for it! I avoided you for like— a month!”
“…Okay, that one was kind of funny though. You shoulda seen look on his face.”
“I DID, CHUUYA! I WAS THERE!”
“Alright, calm down… sweetie pie.”
“CHUUYA!”