Chapter Text
"He was able to hit me three more times while you kept me waiting." Dazai said as he approached the little mafioso, trying to see his eyes, but copper locks shaded them.
"Oh, poor baby. Want me to hug it better?" Dazai stuttered in his step, his skin prickling under the bandages. When Chuuya didn't get any answer he looked up.
Dazai didn't know what he might have seen on his face, but it must have been something that made Chuuya's eyes widen.
"No way." he whispered. Yeah. Dazai felt the same.
It was so new to him. To feel something. He was used to the hollowness consuming his being. Not this. Not the sparkles under his skin. Not the heat on his cheeks.
Why were his cheeks heating up? What was this?
He snapped out of his spiralling as Chuuya stood in front of him, maybe as close as he could get. This was too close for his liking. He couldn't do anything, staying petrified in the place.
"Dazai." he didn't answer. He felt a new world opening in front of him, when Chuuya brought his hand up to cardle his cheeks.
A tear slipped through his thick, black eyelashes at the gesture.
"Dazai, what's the problem?" he asked gently, but the said mafioso couldn't answer.
"I..." he stopped there, his breath hitching when Chuuya moved his thumb acrosse his cheekbone.
Chuuya should have figured it out.
Dazai was not used to touches. Not this gentle, not full of care.
"Yes." he whispered and Chuuya finally understood. He understood that Dazai answered to his very first question that dripped with sarcasm. The brown haired man must have not noticed it. Or maybe he didn't acknowledge it, just asked for it.
But that's okay, Chuuya thought.
The handcuffs snapped open with a clinking sound, falling to the floor.
"Come here mackerel." Chuuya said, his tone full of adoration and Dazai could barely contain all of this, his heart beating wildly in his chest almost exploding. He all but ran to Chuuya, burying his head in his chest.
"Shh, it's okay." Chuuya whispered, carresing brown locks. They sat down to the floor so Dazai could be more comfortable. These few months that Chuuya was older with seemed to be more than he thought at that moment.
Dazai never showed any vulnerability. Not with him nor anybody else. Not even witht those two drinking buddies of his.
Something must have happened that triggered this. Something that upset Dazai. And Chuuya might know the answer, he just had to ask, yet his tounge was tied, not forming any words.
They sat on the roof for quite some time, their mission completed succesfully. It was very late, yet Dazai didn't let go, his grip iron-like on Chuuya.
"Dazai, we have to go home and report." the red-haired didn't want to guess why his voice sounded so unlike his, he never talked to the younger execute with care.
"I don't want to." Dazai's voice was small but peresent, a good sign. At least he isn't asleep, because as much as Chuuya likes to workout, carring Dazai like a sack of potatos to his apartment would be a challange for him.
He stood up, tugging Dazai with him, who was latched onto his arm. Chuuya doubted that he would let go any sooner.
~
He didn't.
Chuuya opened the door to their (his) apartment, and Dazai still hadn't let go.
Chuuya guided him to bed, but he still hadn't let go. Dazai just pulled him as well to the soft sheets, that they managed to dirty even though they took their clothes off changing to baggy shirts that reached their thighs.
"Osamu, just sleep already." Chuuya muttered, fed up with Dazai moving around in his arms.
"..." And the red haired just realised that he called his partner on his given name.
Maybe it wouldn't be a problem among the Sheep, or maybe family (which he didn't really have) but it was Dazai. There was always something lurking behind his calm or cheerful façade and Chuuya was afraid that he would trigger something, all the time.
But Dazai hadn't yelled at him.
He just snuggled closer to him, something so unlike the Demon Prodigy.
Chuuya thought that this would be a one-time thing. But he was wrong.
The next morning Dazai wasn't in bed, and his partner would have thought that he left his apartment entirely.
He heard something from the bathroom, a thud and then cursing.
"Dazai, what the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?"
Just as he slipped out from soft covers the said boy emerged from the mentioned room. "Oh, you are up, Chibi." his voice held surprise in it, and Chuuya couldn't decide whether it was faked or genuine.
"Yeah, no shit." he shouldered past Dazai into the bathroom. "I'm going to work, because unlike someone I do my paperwork. Also there's some crab in the fridge." the red haired sighed and closed the front door as he walked to the Port Mafia building.
~
When Dazai woke up that moring he wasn't alone. That made his heart stammer.
He didn't dream of anything and relief washed over him for that.
He recognised the red curls and the breathing pattern that enveloped him. And it scared him. The comfort, the hug... it was too foreign for him to be able to relax his mind fully.
He sighed in content. He gathered all his willpower and moved away from the warm Chibi, every inch of his skin that pried away from the warmth got stabbed with freezing lonelyness.
If he would have stayed longer, he knew that he wouldn't be able to let go of Chuuya again.
Dazai made his way to the sink, looking in the mirror. He did it rarely, terrified of what he will see each time. Now he saw that his face was full of emotion, yet devoid of any sadness besides the galssy look to his eye.
He washed his face with trembling hands. Dazai didn't take a second look to his wet bandages, it was just water, it will drie.
He shook his head and levelled his own expression in the mirror, willing his muscles to lift to corner of his mouth.
He practised it for a few more times before grabbing a small roll of bandages from under the sink (because even if he was lazy to change all of his bandages, he didn't want to get some eye infection or whatever from the used and dirty cloth over his right eye). And of course, because he had such a bad luck, he knoced his head to the under side of the sink.
"Dazai, what the fuck are you doing in my bathroom?"
Shit. He wanted to leave without the red-head noticing it.
"Oh, you are up, Chibi." that's okay. Just play it cool, like nothing happened.
"Yeah, no shit." thankfully his partner wasn't that smart to notic anything amiss from Dazai.
"I'm going to work, because unlike someone I do my paperwork. Also there's some crab in the fridge."
Dazai couldn't say anything, his dog moving around the room so fast to get his things before leaving left no chance.
Before he could utter a word the front door closed gently.
Was Chuuya angry at him? Was he uncomfortable?
Dazai didn't eat anything when he stepped out from Chuuya's home.
It wasn't like he didn't eat for days before.
Thankfully, being an executive provided him an own office with a big couch. Eventhough he had paperwork to do he flopped down to the said couch and let his eyes shut close.
Dazai never slept in his office, feeling too in danger for that. But he couldn't help it. Yesterday's and today's events were just a bit too much for him.
The heavy feeling in his chest didn't leave, only increased as he drifted off to sleep.
~
Chuuya walked down the hall, a small smile on his lips after his tea session with Kouyou. As much as he wanted to say that he lost the Sheep, thus his family, he still had a 'sister' who looked after him in her own way.
Ane-san gave him and Dazai a few paperworks and reports, so he made his way to his partner's office to hand those to him. (Eventhough he knew that he will write it all on his own.)
He opened the door and wasn't surprised even a little bit that silence greeted him. Afterall Dazai was always scheming something.
Eventhough Chuuya and Dazai spent a lot of time in the latter's office, Chuuya didn't like it that much. There wasn't anything that indicated that this was someone's place, hardly any decoration placed.
If he would be an executive and would recieve such an office, he would make it more... cosy?
Something like Ane-san's. She has a big table in one of the corners next to the floor-to-ceeling window, a big vase of flowers taking place in the middle.
The walls mint-green and decorated with paintings that she and her closests made. Lamps illuminated it all, and the soft glow gave a more comfortable aura to the room. In the middle was a big, soft carpet, and the couch was full of colorfull pillows.
All in all, Chuuya loved Ane-san's room.
Dazai's however looked steril, like no one ever touched it since given to the brown haired mafioso.
Sighing he trotted to the desk, dropping some of the stack on the table's corner.
Chuuya turned around, ready to leave when an unusual sight caught his attention.
It was Dazai on the couch, laying on his side with his knees drawn close to his chest. His lips trembled, his bandage a little bit soaked with tears and blood on his eye, his cheek wet.
Chuuya kneeled next to him, observing Dazai. He never saw him crying. He brought his hands up and cardled his face, memories surficing from yesterday.
Dazai wheezed and opened his eyes, shivering. He wasn't a loud cryer, noted Chuuya. He was silent, wanting to hide everything that was human in him, and becoming someone whom people said him to be.
His eye was wide and he wanted to scramble away from the touch, but Chuuya caught his wrists and pulled his into a sitting position and walked between his legs. The red-haired pulled Dazai's face to his chest, the latter's head colliding with him softly.
Chuuya could feel it. Dazai's heart was cold, freezed by people's words stabbing into it, all of the blood flowing out.
Chuuya's heart was like a room burning and burning.
And it was Dazai's safe-room, he escaped there, to something that burned him, marking his soul with scars that can't be hidden behind bandages.
Chuuya's heart clenched a little when Dazai cluthed his clothes in an iron grip.
The red haired brought his hands up and carded through brown locks, gently pulling Dazai closer to his chest.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." his voice was weak, could barely be considered as a whisper.
"Okay then. Just listen to my heartbeat."
Chuuya didn't know what he was doing actually.
He'd completely forgotten about the meeting with Hirotsu-san, so when the door opened it made him jump a little, being pulled out from the bubble he closed himself in with his partner.
Dazai didn't notice anything, pulling him closer and closer, mumbling incoherent thoughts, sometimes saying his name.
The man at the door looked at Chuuya, a silent conversation passing between them. Chuuya was greatful for Hirotsu-san at that moment as he slipped out and closed the door.
The partners stayed there even when the sun went down, the room burning and burning up, the two of them washed over by it's flame for the second time.
~
Chuuya sat at his coffee table, leasurely sipping his coffee and looking something on his phone.
He just came back from a mission, a week long mission abroad. He really enjoyed it aside from some misunderstandings.
But it was okay, they smoothed it as soon as they could.
Mackerel texted him that he would wait for him on the airport. Yet he wasn't there.
Chuuya waited for him instead, soaking up with rainwater, but Dazai never came.
And Dazai didn't come when it was already past eleven o'clock. He didn't come when the stars already hung high up in the sky.
Chuuya texted him a few times, but it was for nothing.
"That idiot Mackerel." he grumbled finishing his coffee.
Chuuya stood up, ready to go to bed when he heard a quiet knock. It could be one of his subordinates, but they didn't look for him at this late in the evening.
He pulled his pocket knife out, slowly approaching the door. He cracked it slightly open, taking a defencive stance.
What he didn't expect was a brown mop of hair, wet clothes and bloody cheeks.
"What happened to you Dazai?" he asked sighing, putting his knife away and widening the door further, inviting in the mackerel.
The demon prodigy didn't say anything, just hugged the other mafioso, pulling him closer and closer.
The floor drank up the water and blood under Dazai's feet. "I'm sorry." he mumbled into Chuuya's shirt that soaked up blood and dirt. For once Chuuya didn't yell at him for getting mud on him. "I don't know how to feel." he whispered again.
"What do you mean?" asked Chuuya, his voice soft next to his ear, streaming into his mind and calming thundering thoughts.
"Should I cry? Should I laugh?" Dazai's voice grew more and more desperate and louder by each syllable.
"What am I supposed to do?!" he screeched, his voice breaking into a whisper, on the edge of sounding crazy. Sounding like a broken cassette.
Chuuya never heared him speak like that, feeling himself tearing up as well, his heart hammering in his chest like a helpless, caged bird. "Just... just sit down with me." he hushed back, moving towards the couch.
Dazai didn't complain. Straddling Chuuya's hips, he brought his head on the red-haired's chest, inhaling his scent and calming himself a little.
He was fine. He will be okay. He told himself as gentle fingers carded through his hair. "Chuuya, I..." he stopped, collecting his thoughts. "I won't be able to tell you now. But if you... if you'll wait..." if I won't lose you til then. "... I will tell you."
"That's alright for me Osamu."
The brunette relaxed and himself be cared for for this once.
He let himslef be carried to bed and be covered with a blanket. Dazai let Chuuya kiss the top of his head, where his previous black crown glistened, now burned to ashes and blown away by gentle, steady breathing coming from a too caring ginger mafioso. Chuuya Nakahara.