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"I look stupid."
Chuuya eyed himself in the hotel room's ornate mirror, looking himself up and down and sighing outwardly with disdain as he made eye contact with his reflection. He was dressed in a sharply cut red dress, a dress the colour of freshly drawn blood, with glossy matching red heels. It was a nice dress. Classy.
But he still looked stupid.
Sidling up behind him, Dazai wolf-whistled with a humoured smirk, putting his hands on Chuuya's shoulders as he slightly leaned over one side of him.
"Yep. You do." he said with the slight crinkle of a smile forming on his face, looking at Chuuya in the reflection of the mirror as he spoke.
Chuuya had an edge to his voice as he glared into mirror-Dazai’s eyes, "And why the hell am I the one wearing this? Why can't I just wear something normal?"
"Ah, well, let's see. You're small, delicate." Dazai held up a finger, starting to count. "You look young, you have long hair, a sweet little androgynous voice, and you're slim. And can I just say..."
Dazai moved his lips a little closer to Chuuya's ear, his warm breath ghosting around Chuuya's cheekbone. His eyes still locked onto the other's as he looked sideways to the reflection. Dazai's hand snaking down from Chuuya's shoulder, his fingers curling around the v-shaped dip in Chuuya's side. The touch, the contact, felt cold and hellishly hot at the same time as Chuuya's stomach flipped, just a little.
"You have a damn good waist."
~~~
The mellow rumbling of the black BMW was the only sound that filled the air as Chuuya and Dazai were driven to the prestigious party, to their mission. Chuuya's mind was clamoured with thoughts, thoughts about Dazai, thoughts that he would never admit to.
That sly bastard knows exactly what he's doing, winding Chuuya up like that. He thinks he's soooo suave.
Dazai's elbow rested on the car door, as he leant his cheek on his palm and gazed out the window, definitely spaced out. How did he manage to look so good, even with his cheek squished into his hand? While Chuuya sat stiffly, his slender fingers clutching the fabric of his dress as he stared at the back of the driver's headrest.
Their BMW slowed to a stop, outside an ornate villa. A mansion, even. Lit up by warm white lights, illuminating the artistry of the architecture from the ground up.
Chuuya reached for the door handle on his right, but Dazai grabbed his wrist, pulling Chuuya's body back towards him. Chuuya's heart skipped a beat. Dazai reached up his face, cupping his cheek, his finger pressing into the sensitive curve behind Chuuya's earlobe, making Chuuya’s skin prickle hotly as he stuck something there.
Oh.
Right.
The earpiece.
...Fuck.
Something in Chuuya's stomach twisted again, and he felt the heat settle on his cheeks as Dazai removed his hand from Chuuya's face, sliding the pads of his fingers down the tendons in Chuuya's neck as he did so.
That teasing motherfucker.
"Don't forget the earpiece, Chuuya." Dazai spoke in a sultry voice. "How else are you supposed to hear my handsome, silky voice all night, huh?~"
Chuuya shot him a look, his cheeks still tinged with pink as he grumbled. "Shut up. It's bad enough I have to be here wearing this outfit, let alone listen to you whining directly in my ear for the whole mission."
“But Chuuya, you look great in that outfit.” Dazai said, his mouth curving into a mocking smile.
Chuuya didn’t respond to that one, getting out of the BMW huffily and feeling a sense of calm relief when Dazai didn't pull him back again. But underneath that, buried deep in the back of his mind, the pit of his stomach, he felt a little disappointed that Dazai didn't.
Walking gracefully in his heels, he moved around to the side of the car facing the house. Dazai secretly admired how elegant Chuuya looked in that moment, the breeze caressing his hair gently, his cupid’s bow lined in a deep auburn colour.
"Oye, Dazai." Chuuya clicked his fingers, snapping Dazai out of whatever train of thought he’d just been in.
"Huh-? What did you say?
"I said, should we go inside?" Chuuya begrudgingly held out his arm, for Dazai to link with his. They both tried not to show the variety of emotions that the idea made them feel.
“No. We need to go back over the mission directives first.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes at that.
“Ugh, I already know what we’re doing.”
Dazai raised an eyebrow. “Go on then, what are we doing?” He said it challengingly, as if he thought Chuuya was dumb enough to forget.
Groaning frustratedly, Chuuya started to recite the briefing they’d been through several times already.
“We go in and locate our target, who we conveniently don’t know anything about besides them hosting the party,” he rolled his eyes. “Then I find a way to slip the listening device on them, and try to gather intel about where the location of the neurotoxin is, but I do so in a covert and casual way so as to not make them suspicious. Then you listen in on their conversation with the buyer while I mingle at the party, and once we know what room they're in, I go ahead and take the host and the buyer out. When I’m done with that, I’ll tell you the codeword to come and help me with securing the poison for ourselves and getting the hell out of here. It’ll be a breeze.”
“Walk me through the effects of the poison we're stealing.” Dazai said bluntly, not acknowledging Chuuya’s apt explanation.
“...” he decided against shooting an annoyed quip about that.“It's a neurotoxin specifically designed to target ability-users, and once it's taken into the bloodstream it will first disable their ability, then paralyse them and slowly dissolve them from the inside, in a slow, merciless, agonising death. Mori wants it in order to destroy it, because it could be incredibly useful against the Port Mafia if it fell into enemy hands.”
Dazai wasn’t impressed by Chuuya’s adequate memory, and simply shrugged with a noise of acknowledgement.
“Ahhh, let’s go then, stop taking so long.”
Chuuya glared daggers at him, since Dazai was the one causing the holdup in the first place.
The smirk playing on Dazai’s lips deepened.
“Problem?”
“...No.” Chuuya said through his teeth, imagining how it would feel to slap that smirk straight off Dazai’s face.
Dazai finally linked his arm with Chuuya’s, solely to keep up appearances of course, and their steps synced as they walked up to the front steps. Steps carpeted in a shade of red, akin to that of Chuuya’s dress. A few heads turned to look at the pair as they elegantly walked up towards the doors, linked, moving as one.
Chuuya and Dazai. Double Black. Soukoku. They were picture perfect together, not that either of them would ever admit to it.
After they passed through the embellished double doors, Chuuya took a glass of champagne from a tray offered to him, as did Dazai, who glanced over at another partygoer that was coming up to them with a fancy wave.
“Hello, I’m Fitzgerald. F. Scott Fitzgerald.” the man held out a hand to shake, and Dazai took it politely. But Fitzgerald wasn’t looking at Dazai anymore, and he smiled at Chuuya. “But you, my dear, can call me Fitz.” he said with a wink, taking the back of Chuuya’s hand and kissing it as a rosy blush settled on Chuuya’s cheekbones.
Dazai bristled and felt a flicker of jealousy in his chest, a flicker of something protective. Possessive. He cleared his throat.
“Ahem, Fitzgerald. Nice to meet you. What do you do for work?” Dazai asked as he inconspicuously nudged Chuuya’s ankle, trying to get his attention.
Fitzgerald smiled, but it seemed a little fake to Dazai, who was studying his facial expressions as they conversed. “Oh, I own an import-exports business, you must have heard of it, it’s quite a big company. Scott Exports?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow at Dazai as Fitzgerald spoke, the ginger seemed annoyed and confused at Dazai’s nudge.
“No, I'm afraid I haven’t. Imports-exports bores me, you know? I’m not a maths kind of guy.” Dazai said, a spiky undertone underneath his words that only Chuuya picked up on. Fitzgerald smiled again in response, with equally fake politeness.
Dazai widened his eyes meaningfully at Chuuya as Fitzgerald looked down into his champagne glass for a moment, sipping it. Dazai jerked his head towards him in a small but significant movement. But Chuuya still didn’t understand what he was trying to say, and it was getting on each of their nerves. They were usually so good at communicating like this, but Chuuya didn’t seem on the ball today,
“This is such a lovely party you’re hosting, Fitzgerald.” Dazai said, looking directly into Chuuya’s eyes at the end of his sentence, waiting to see that flicker of understanding. And Chuuya’s eyes widened as he finally realised.
Fitzgerald was the host.
The target. The seller. He was their guy. Bullseye.
He’d walked right into Double Black’s hands.
“Oh, thank you. I try my best to make them classy, though I'm rather new to this scene. I didn’t grow up privileged, you know?”
Chuuya piped up for the first time in the conversation, “So you clawed your way up the social ladder, huh? That’s admirable.”
“Well yes, I suppose I did in a manner of speaking. I knew you’d understand, the kindly looking soul that you are.” Fitzgerald smiled again, at Chuuya, a charming smile.
Dazai did not like that smile.
The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their champagne, before Fitzgerald outstretched his hand to Chuuya.
“Care for a dance? I don’t like sitting down for too long, and I trust someone so beautiful as you would know the steps?” And there was that smile again. It was intoxicating. Poisonous.
“Oh- yes, okay.” came the response, and Dazai’s jaw stiffened. But Chuuya mouthed something at Dazai as he was gently pulled away by Fitzgerald, and while that didn’t settle the growing twinge in Dazai’s chest, it settled his unspoken protests. This was just part of the mission, and Chuuya was only carrying out his side of the duties. It was completely fine, and Dazai shouldn’t be feeling this possessive about Chuuya. He really shouldn’t.
~~~
They danced slowly, Fitzgerald’s hands on Chuuya’s waist and Chuuya’s hands on Fitzgerald’s shoulders.
It felt wrong. It felt uncomfortable, and Chuuya just needed to get this over with. Keep up the act. That’s all he needed to do, and then it would be fine.
“So, Fitz… what’s the party for?” Chuuya inquired, tilting his head in that way Dazai secretly liked, even though he’d never admit it out loud.
“Aah… nothing much, I just felt like it. I like the place better when it’s busy like this. It’s so tough living in this big, grand house. Gets too quiet.”
Ugh, what a first world problem. There are worse things in the world than being alone in a house worth multi-millions.
But Chuuya didn’t let his disgust show.
“Ah, I see. That makes sense.” Chuuya moved his hand ever so slightly closer to Fitzgerald’s collar as he spoke. Ever so slightly.
Fitzgerald smiled again. That smile was getting more sickly every time Chuuya saw it. “Wouldn’t be so bad if I had someone to share it with, you know. Apart from the housekeepers, obviously. My bed’s always cold on one half, too. I’d love to have someone to help me change that.” he winked.
Ick.
Chuuya laughed and nodded, pinching his collar, sticking the listening device to the underside of it. Fitzgerald didn’t seem to notice, and Chuuya breathed a sigh of relief. It was done.
“You know, Chuuya, I like the sound of my name when you say it. I don’t let just anyone call me ‘Fitz’, you know.
“Oh, how kind-”
Fitzgerald looked at Chuuya’s lips. “You have a little bit of lipstick smudged there-” his thumb swiped below Chuuya’s mouth, a blood red mark sticking to the pad of his finger. It felt so wrong, and Chuuya stiffened uncomfortably. He didn’t want this man’s hands on him, on his waist, his face, definitely not his mouth. It felt so, so wrong.
Before either of them could form another sentence, Chuuya was twisted around, his arm pulled away gently but firmly by someone else, pulled into the ‘closed’ dancing position. As soon as he looked up, seeing Dazai’s face as they span gracefully away from Fitzgerald, the familiar brown eyes put him at ease. Chuuya breathed out, and while he would’ve shied away angrily from Dazai’s touch any other time, it was welcome right now. He didn’t have the energy not to show his relief.
“You good?” Dazai looked down at him in concern, as they continued to rock in slow circles.
“I’m fine.” Chuuya snapped, with more venom in his voice than he intended. He tried to say it again, softer. “I’m fine.”
“I saw you were getting uncomfortable. I got you away when I saw you’d put the listening device on him.”
“Ok.”
“It was a smart tactic, he didn’t even notice.”
“I know.”
“You did well, Chuuya.”
“...” he stayed silent for a moment, “Whatever.”
They continued to dance steadily, for a while, and Chuuya started to settle, his muscles relaxing before he gasped sharply and gripped Dazai’s hand tightly
“Chuuya? What’s wrong?” Dazai’s warm, coffee-coloured eyes looking down at the other as he searched Chuuya’s face.
“I never told him my name, Dazai.” Chuuya looked up at him in desperate panic.
“Who? Fitzgerald? It’s okay, he’s not the kind of person you need to be polite to-”
“No, you don’t understand- Dazai, he knew my name- I never told him-”
His breathing started to become more erratic.
Dazai went pale. “Oh, fuck.” he whispered softly, “That’s- that’s not good.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Chuuya let go of Dazai’s hand, and Dazai led at the front of the two as they started to walk over to the side of the room, near the refreshments table.
“When did he say your name?”
“Oh, uh. When he wiped the smudge of lipstick off my mouth. I think-?”
“He did what? What makes him think he can- Wait, sorry, I-” His tongue tripped over the words, trying to form a reasonable sentence despite the fiery jealousy starting to spark in his chest. He took a breath to refocus himself, but there was an uneasy silence in the air despite the booming music and chattering crowd. “...Chuuya?”
“…”
“Chuuya?” Dazai glanced behind him.
Chuuya was gone.
Dazai’s heart plummeted to his stomach as his mind began to run wild and his thoughts tangled in a barbed panic. Oh, god. No. No no no no. This couldn’t be happening. Chuuya was in danger, and it was Dazai’s fault, he let go of him, he took his eyes off him, he let his guard down-
Shut up.
But-
Shut up and find Chuuya. Blathering won’t help him.
Dazai scanned the room frantically, searching for any sign of Chuuya, but the flashing lights stabbed through his eyes, the writhing bodies became a blurring mess, and the music thumped in his head, shaking his brain around in his skull and reverberating through his bones. His heart pounded, the bass from the music clawing up through his feet up to his head. He needed to calm down. He needed to focus. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t-
Taking a few short breaths to try to calm himself, Dazai looked around the room, trying to search it more thoroughly this time. A flash of red caught his eye as his gaze swept around, and he saw the object on the far side, pushing his way through the mush of people to get to it.
The object was one of Chuuya’s heels.
What a twisted version of Cinderella.
There was a woman standing idly by the doorway where he had found the shoe, sipping a glass of champagne and talking to another woman. The heel stayed clutched tightly in his hand, which was shaking with panic, as he cleared his throat, getting their attention.
“Uh, hey.” Dazai smiled awkwardly as one turned around. She looked at him warily, eyes sweeping over his suit with a scornful judge. “Did you see someone go through this door?”
“No??” she said with a scoff, starting to turn back round. Dazai grabbed her shoulder desperately before he could think about what he was doing, turning her back around to face him.
“Please, my friend is missing, are you sure that-”
She wrenched away from him, taking a step back, looking at the heel in his hand. “Wherever your ‘friend’ is, she’s probably trying to get away from you, you creep! Don’t touch me again or I’ll scream, and security will drag you out of here in a heartbeat.”
Dazai blinked for a moment, shocked, realising how much the dread in his chest was affecting his ability to think and act clearly. He stuttered an apology before slipping through the doorway, finding himself in a large corridor. The walls were painted in a delicate shade of beige, and white stone pillars stood between the many doorways, holding up ornate vases and other art pieces.
There were so many doors. In Dazai’s panic, it felt like hundreds. And Chuuya was in one of them, but how would Dazai ever be able to find him?
A noise exploded in his skull, wrapping around his brain and shaking his mind violently. It was a gunshot- but there was no one else in the corridor besides him, so where had it come from-?
Oh god.
The earpiece.
Chuuya was connected to him through the earpiece.
He hastily pressed his finger to it, “Slug?? Slug, are you okay?”
He only heard a scared, muffled sound in response, as if Chuuya’s mouth was covered by something. Duct tape, maybe. It was an awful thing to hear, and Dazai felt sick to his stomach.
“Listen, try to make a noise, hit or kick something if you can. I’ll listen and find out which door you’re in. Do you understand?”
“Mhm.”
“I need to turn off the earpiece to concentrate and hear you properly, okay? But I’ll find you. I promise, Chuuya, I will find you.”
Chuuya made another affirmative noise, and Dazai took off the earpiece before he could hesitate. He had to focus on finding Chuuya, not getting caught on emotions about having cut himself away from Chuuya’s one lifeline, his one connection to Dazai, even for a moment. He held his breath, his heart pounding. It felt so loud, as if it could drown out any other sound, but then Dazai heard a knocking, and he couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
He ran a few meters, and flung the door open. Nothing. He tried the one opposite. Nothing. He shoved a third door open.
Still nothing.
He was losing hope.
He tried the next one, and was about to close it again when he saw a small ginger blur in a dark corner of the room, almost hidden from the doorway.
Chuuya’s hair was frizzy, and hung around his face in loose strands, framing his eyes- which were wide with fear.
Dazai flicked the light on, and it coated the room in a stark fluorescent light, giving him a proper chance to look around. It was a completely empty room, apart from a small plastic table in one corner, and was the size of a decent bedroom. The walls were painted in a peeling, outdated beige and water pipes ran along the floor where Chuuya was. He was cuffed to them.
“Chuuya, oh my god.” Dazai ran to him, kneeling in front of him as he scanned his body for any marks or bruises. He looked relatively unscathed, apart from his dress being a little tattered and his hair frizzy. Dazai took the tape off his mouth, as gently as he could. “Tell me you’re okay.”
Chuuya sighed shakily, breathing deeply now that his mouth was uncovered.
“That’s a stupid question. Of course I’m not.”
Dazai’s tongue stumbled over itself as he hastily tried to apologise, but Chuuya interrupted him, a softer look in his eyes as he looked up at Dazai.
“I’ve managed to get one hand out of the cuffs, but I hid it behind my back before I realised it was you who was in the room.” he paused with his lips parted, as if he had something more to say, and Dazai watched him patiently, giving him space to speak.
“Dazai, I’m… glad you’re here.” his free hand touched Dazai’s cheek for a long, long moment as his azure eyes met Dazai’s own dark ones. Unspoken words passed between them in just that look, before Dazai moved his head down to look at Chuuya’s cuff.
“I’ll try to get that off…” he said, his eyes slightly unfocused as he started strategizing how to get the lock off.
Gently picking a bobby pin out of Chuuya’s hair, he stuck it into the keyhole, and tried every angle he could, but it just wouldn’t budge. Dazai shook it around in a last desperate attempt, and when it still didn’t give he could feel tears pricking at his eyes.
No. He needed to keep it together right now, for Chuuya as much as for himself. He couldn’t afford to slip up, and if he let emotions get in the way, exactly that would happen.
He could feel the chaotic noise creeping into his ears, filling his head with static. Overwhelmed, Dazai held his head in his hands, fingers gripping his hair as he tried to breathe. He didn’t hear Chuuya’s shouts until it was too late, and as he finally processed the sound and looked around, he saw a flash of metal before it hit him coldly and bluntly on the side of his head, and everything in the room fizzed out to nothing. The last thing Dazai heard was his own body hitting the floor.
~~~
The first sense to come back was his hearing, and he waited for the static to gradually leave his mind as he testily blinked his eyes open, his head starting to pound with a painful ache. He groaned, and pushed himself upright with his free hand, finding himself next to Chuuya, cuffed to the pipe in the same way.
In front of him, a figure sat on the small plastic table, one leg dangling and one resting on the table as he watched Dazai struggle through his daze.
Dazai met the man's eyes, and there it was again. That smile.
That bloody smile. Fitzgerald’s smile.
“Oh, look Chuuya, your boyfriend woke up. Poor thing’s still sleepy.” he laughed, and the sound cut the air like a knife, “I guess that's what happens after such a nasty whack round the head.”
Chuuya glared at him, “You think you're funny? You won't be laughing when you're faced with the two of us, let alone the Mafia.” he spat.
The fog in Dazai's head was almost clear now, and he sat up straighter, leaning against the wall behind him. “The hell do you want, Fitzgerald?”
“Oh, he speaks!” Fitzgerald’s snake-like gaze turned to focus on Dazai now. “Did you have a nice sleep?”
“Cut your bull, and answer my question.” Dazai growled, his gaze sharp, as if it could slice straight through the blonde man’s grin and wipe his smile off his face.
“Ohoho, I'm the one in charge here. You don't get to order me around, Dazai. But since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you what's up.”
Chuuya and Dazai exchanged a glance, and they both waited for Fitzgerald to continue speaking.
“I know what you're here for, boys. I knew it right from the start.
“Wait, so… When you came up to us, and the dance… you knew the whole time? You let me plant the microphone on you?” the cogs in Chuuya's brain whirred as he spoke, trying to piece everything together.
“Yes. You thought that I'd fallen into your trap? Ha! You'd walked straight into mine, like lambs to the slaughter.” he leered nastily.
Dazai hissed, “You crafty motherfucker.”
Chuuya inhaled sharply as Fitzgerald reached under the table, pulling out a grey metal briefcase. He flicked the cap open and took out a long, brutal-looking needle and a vial of colourless liquid, with the poison hazard symbol on it.
“My buyer pulled out after hearing the complications you two caused, so I figured I may as well give you what you wanted”
“...” Dazai looked bemused, but Chuuya had worked it out. “You're going to kill one of us with the poison we came here for- because there's only dosage for one.”
“Annoyingly, yes. But I’ve made my choice.” Fitzgerald looked at Dazai with a self-satisfied glare.
Chuuya's face contorted into one of horror. “No-”
“I wonder how it will feel, Dazai- when every cell in your body corrodes, when your brain becomes a dissolved mess-”
Chuuya made a choked noise as Dazai listened silently.
“-when you can do nothing besides writhing and waiting for the sweet release of death.”
Still groggy, Dazai didn’t have the energy to put up a fight as the needle dug its singular blunt claw into his arm, the bubbling liquid burning through his veins as it slithered under his skin.
There was a momentary sense of burning. An awful, awful feeling. It was as if someone had crawled into each cell in Dazai’s body and set off an explosion in every. Single. One. He was being burnt from the inside, his muscles screaming, every cell in his body was ablaze, and he was dying from the inside out-
Until he wasn’t.
There were a few moments of uneasiness, a purgatory in his own body, as the screaming dissipated. The screaming from his cells, and the screaming coming from his own mouth. He seemed to be bathed in a soft blue glow, and he felt… refreshed.
How odd.
He looked up to see Chuuya in a pleasant shock, and Fitzgerald in a furious confusion that he struggled to hide. The puzzle pieces all slipped together in Dazai’s brain, and as he locked eyes with Chuuya, he knew that the redhead had figured it out too.
“Wh- what the fuck-?” Fitzgerald stared open mouthed at the Dazai, the empty needle, and back at Dazai.
Looking at his partner next to him, Dazai smiled. “You can take this one, Chuuya.”
Dipping his head, Chuuya couldn’t help but grin, “Oh, Fitzgerald. Poor Fitzgerald. You idiot.”
Fitzgerald bristled in response, and Chuuya carried on speaking.
“That poison, that was only meant to hurt ability users, huh? Ability users like me. Not like Dazai.”
“No, that’s not- he has a nullifying ability, it should’ve…” his fingers tangled through his hair and a look of pure frustrated bafflement spread across his face.
“Nope. Dazai has an anti-ability. So in a manner of speaking, he isn’t an ability user…”
The two of them soaked up the horrified look on Fitzgerald’s face for a moment before Dazai finished Chuuya’s sentence, as if their minds were connected. Synchronised.
“So what you’ve just done to me is the opposite of killing. You’ve made me very, very strong. I feel refreshed~”
Dazai’s hand, the hand Fitzgerald didn’t realise was free, swung up into a sharp uppercut as Dazai stood in a flash. Chuuya stood up too, having been working at the cuff’s lock behind his back for the past few minutes. He delivered his signature kick to Fitzgerald’s chest, shoving him backwards as his head collided with the wall.
They shared a grin.
Chuuya and Dazai. Double Black. Soukoku.
Back in business.
Chuuya’s ability flooded the room in a red glow as he latched Fitzgerald’s gravity to the floor. Not enough to break the floor and fall into the room below, but enough to immobilise him.
Dazai took a step closer to the disadvantaged man, sneering proudly. “Now you know we’re not just two kids, we’re Doub-”
He was cut short as Fitzgerald grabbed him, and in one swift movement he held Dazai’s back against his chest, his elbow against Dazai’s throat and a knife poised against his face.
Chuuya’s heart leaped to his own throat, but he stayed calm. Perilous situations were what he was built for.
“Let go of him before I rip you apart.” he growled quietly, locking eyes with the man who had the Demon Prodigy captive.
“Ah, ah- not another step. Move an inch and this knife will be an inch deep in his throat, Chuuya.” His tone was tantalising, and it ignited a fury in Chuuya.
The red tendrils of Corruption began to swirl over his forearms and cheeks, but Fitzgerald abruptly howled in pain, and dropped to the floor, yanking the needle out of his thigh.
The needle.
Dazai smiled toothily as he rubbed his throat, taking a quick step away from Fitzgerald, who clutched his thigh in pain.
“The dosage of the leftover dregs isn’t enough to kill you, but… you might want to get that leg checked out tomorrow.” Dazai said over his shoulder as he and Chuuya left, locking the door behind them.
-a few hours later-
The Port Mafia HQ wasn’t quiet this time of night, as one might expect of any other ordinary office building. But that was likely to be expected in an organisation such as the Port Mafia.
Chuuya and Dazai were in one of the smaller meeting rooms, curled up together on the red velvet sofa. Dazai’s back was to the arm of the sofa as Chuuya sat between his legs, his back against Dazai’s chest as Dazai’s fingers slowly caressed his hair.
Chuuya spoke quietly, the vibrations of his voice sending a murmuring buzz through Dazai’s ribcage. “You know, back there with the poison, I thought you were dead. For a long, long moment.”
Dazai stayed silent, a serene silence that prompted Chuuya to continue.
“I… I don’t think I was scared of you dying as much as I was scared of the image of your pain being burned into my mind, you know? I didn’t want that to be my last.. My last memory of you, after everything we’ve…”
Chuuya sighed, struggling to find the words. He got up and turned around, kneeling between Dazai’s legs instead so they were face to face. “If you were gone, I think I would miss you. I hate you, but… It would be quiet without you, Mackerel.”
“I hate you too.” Dazai said after a moment, his soft, warm eyes looking straight into Chuuya’s bluey-grey ones. And they were one again. But not in the adrenaline rush of a fight, no… this was serene. Calm together.
Chuuya and Dazai. Double Black.
Soukoku.
“You hate me too-?! That’s all you got out of everything I said? You shitty little-”
Chuuya was cut short as Dazai’s lips connected with his, a warmth spreading from their point of contact down their throats, to their hearts, and it pooled there. In the core of their ribcages. Dazai’s hand slipped up to cup Chuuya’s cheek, warm with a blush, as he tilted his lips against Chuuya’s. Their kiss was sweet, and felt like a deep breath of fresh air after being underwater for too long. For far too long.
~~~