Archive of Our Own ^beta

It isn’t ambiguously astounding that Chuuya's well-endowed reputation surpasses well beyond him. Whether it's being one of the most dangerous individuals alive or a powerhouse with or without using his ability. People aren’t unaware how cold-hearted and emotionlessly vicious he can be but the ones close to him, know the levels to which his humanity and kindness can extend to.

Though nobody knew him better than Dazai Osamu. There were sides to the executive which only the brunet was privileged to witness. Like how adorably cute he can be at times or how stubbly he blushes under certain circumstances. 

Another thing Dazai knows very well about Chuuya is that the latter was very oblivious pertaining his own looks and charms. He wasn’t the type to take advantage of his appearance and aura until and unless its urgently necessary according to the situation.

He struck to be that type.

However, there’s a catch.

Lately what Dazai has discovered is that despite his obliviousness, Chuuya can be unintentionally charming.

That’s disgusting! isn’t it?

The audacity of people to fall for that!

What has happened to people!? Have they completely lost their taste!?

And now that chibiko was luring him into a trap by his chibi charms! What is this!? Port Mafia’s second highest authority conspiring against his own boss!? How scandalous!

Cause the ‘Dazai Osamu’ who is always ten universes ahead, was now unprepared for how prince-like the ginger-head can be! It wasn’t his fault for being taken aback by the slug’s unintentional showcase of romantic, princely gestures!  

I.

“A kiss of promise”

The gentle silence was softly shushing the large room into cosiness. The only source of noise being the scratchy octets of pen against the papers and the peculiar ticking of the clock. As if the spaciousness around was getting caressed into a cottony snuggle by the surrounding assuasive quietness which was lethargically dissipating out into the dead of the night to mingle in with the dark.

Whether it was the chequered floor or the expensive red carpet, the brilliance of the place held no admirers at the present moment except a singular figure who was sitting behind the desk at the end of the room. In front of a foreground of numerous books that were slotted into the shelves behind, Dazai’s silhouette was pristinely clear.

His cheek was propped up on his fist as he was busy signing the papers. His unbandaged eye brewing with boredom as it fell on the papers in an idle observation. One might even misunderstand that he was barely paying any attention to the documents stacked before him but in reality he was scrutinising every one of them as he completed them one by one.

He could finish them quickly without abrogating even the minutest of details and information. Thing is, no matter how much prodigal intelligence he possesses, paperwork was boring!

“Aww! Man~! Paperwork is sooo booorinng!”

Disrupting his composure he complained out loudly in an exasperated sigh as he slouched onto the desk. Mushing his face and stretching his arms onto the papers.

To put it simply....

he was being lazy.

He cannot help it. Being the Port Mafia’s head he had a load ton of work to do. Not to mention because it was three forty at night already, these late lightless hours were bolstering the comfy silence of his office. Making it even harder for him to work.

Pulling himself up from his position a devious smirk made its way upto his lips. A chocolatey glint in his vision.

You see, a bored Dazai was never a safe criteria.

So, not too long ago, approximately half an hour ago he had called his beloved dog to come here so that he can help him out! He was his dog; it was his duty to follow him isn’t it!?

He could be here any minute now.

As if on queue his ears picked up the extreme familiarity of those heavy footsteps now approaching here. It stopped at the door and after about ten to twelve seconds there were three knocks.

“Come in”

The entrance opened with a moderate force, revealing the ginger-headed executive.

“Shitty Dazai! What the fuck do you want!?”

Shutting the door behind Chuuya exclaimed in a voice as irked as his expression. Shooting visual daggers at the other.

“Aa~ Aaa~ After years and years of civilisation, chibi is still a wild dog”

The brunet sighed in fake exhaustion as he supported his chin on his palm. His profile bearing a ‘used to it’ texture.

“Would you ever shut up!? It’s nearly four in the fucking morning and I do not want to see your face! I have to go. So be quick”

Pointing his finger accusingly at him Chuuya marched in further until he was half way till the desk.

“Don’t worry Chuuya, I'm not thrilled to see you either”, he says in a childish flick.

“Why am I even here then?”

He now punctuated calmly as his features levelled down into a nonchalant annoyance. Clearly done with Dazai’s usual theatrics. Placing his hand on his waist he took a more relaxed stance.

Instead of responding, Dazai just sat there. Smiling goofily at Chuuya. It appeared so innocent and harmless that Chuuya could almost see flowers bouncing off of him.

The shorter paled at that cause that look isn’t new to him. It was anything but naive. He asked cautiously, “What are you thinking?”

“Hmm~ Nothinng!”, he hummed.

“No it’s not ‘nothing!’ Why are you smiling like an idiot?”, he wondered out loud with a partially confused and partially concerned phiz.

Howbeit, his expression flattened as he blinked cartoonishly at Dazai, “If I'm here just to hear your nonsense or complete the paperwork for you, then I'm out”

With that Chuuya turned around to leave when he heard the boss.

“Chuuya. You know you are not allowed to do that”

His barren, brown gaze cuts to Chuuya coldly as he states in an authoritative tranquillity. A tiny unwelcoming smile danced upon his lips. Indirectly reminding the other of the hierarchy in the mafia.

Looking over his shoulder with an unreadable face the ginger just cursed under his breath, “Tch! What a fucking bitch!”

Rotating on his heels he moved towards Dazai. Grumbling on his way. What amazes him more is how quickly this bastard’s facial tone changes as now the brunet was smiling at him foolishly again. With joy and brightness written all over. It pissed Chuuya off even more.

Dazai on the other hand was carefully taking in the person heading towards him. The hatrack looked good. The automated shutters covering the large ceiling to floor, glass windows were reflecting the yellowish lighting perfectly around his black suit. Giving him a prim and fresh look. Even though the bandaged male most probably knows that the other had just finished his shift. Causing his ever gorgeous, fiery hair to be unnoticeably unkempt.

Dazai snapped back to reality when Chuuya hits the desk with a tight slap of his hand.

“What is it... boss?”, tilting his head he put sarcastic emphasis on the title.

The furrowing of his brows and quirking of his mouth, easily indicating that he was unimpressed by his superior.

“That wasn’t hard, was it? Now help me with these paperwork”, he acknowledged as he diverted himself back to the papers with a kiddish demeanour.

“Fuck you. You did that on purpose didn’t ‘cha? You called me here at this hour cause you knew I was going home!”, he blamed as he leant down.

Without even paying any heed the older agreed casually, “Hmm.”

“At least try to deny it! Tch! Whatever”

He backed off in a defeat cause he knew this mackerel’s gonna be a nuisance. He walked around the desk as he hopped onto it on Dazai’s side. His back was facing the huge door while his front both Dazai and the bookshelves behind. Easily providing himself the convince to sit on the wooden surface.

From his far peripheral vision Dazai noticed Chuuya picking up a bundle and start reviewing those.

Surprisingly, there weren’t any further argument between them. It’s not an everyday occurrence. In Kouyou's words– ‘Soukoku and peace are not synonymous. But subconsciously Dazai knew that he was basking in this wordlessness between them. It recalled him his long acquaintance with Chuuya. They’ll always be acquainted to each other. Like a hometown to return to.

This non-conversational atmosphere of theirs accentuated the serenity round the office. No pandemonium, just crispy notes of pages folding over and smooth grinding of pen against them. It was simple yet his proximity to the gravity user made him feel weirdly comfortable. Comfortable enough so that he wanted to just sink into the silky plush of his seat.

It wasn’t like him at all.

Maybe because a tacky slug was distracting him!

Yes! That’s it!

It would be hard to concentrate when there’s a horribly tiny dog sitting on his desk right beside him.

The sharp outline of his side profile was hard to miss even from the corner of his eye. Despite the brunet’s focus currently being on the work now, from the extreme edges of his sight he could still watch how the room’s lighting was beautifully blending in with his pumpkin locks that was neatly cascaded down his left shoulder. Mimicking a fiery waterfall ignited by the sun.

The line of his nose, jaw, torso and legs were hard and cut like a sculpted marble. See! This is what Dazai was talking about! What’s with this dazzling display of a prince!? Ridiculous! This was absolutely ridiculous in Dazai’s opinion! He didn’t like how chibi was sitting in a dazed, handsome prince-like gesture!

Not to mention, since when did chibi acquire such a princely posture!? One of his leg was dangling off whilst the other was crossed over in an ankle-to-knee position. It greatly complemented his torso that was slightly hunched over in a casual attractiveness to concentrate on the given task. Unknowingly embodying the dashing persona of a prince in his body language, whether it is the way he puts his hand under his chin or the charismatic expression of his mug doused into the papers or his gorgeous irises framed by his fringes to imitate a spring amidst an autumn foliage.  

There are very few things in the world that actually bothered Dazai Osamu and right now it included a very tacky slug who was troubling him without any self-realisation.

Dazai frowned extremely mildly. It more of paralleled the dissatisfaction of a child rather than a frown. Stopping his pen for a second he complains without even sparing a glance at the executive.

“Chuuya, stop distracting me”

As if in a trance the said person only blinked twice before breaking out, “Hah!? How am I distracting you!? What are you!? A kid!?”

The ‘how’ remained unanswered by the taller male.

Upon no further clarification Chuuya only rolled his eyes as he reverted back to what he was doing.

“Why am I even here?”

Is only what Dazai heard him mumble.

Although, it made him question. Why is Chuuya even here? Its a stupid question superficially because he himself summoned him here but that’s not the true nature of it. It was, why Chuuya was here helping him when he could have refused. The tacky mafiaso would simply reason that he was his boss and being loyal to the mafia he would follow any order, irrespective of who the leader is.

Dazai knows that, that’s not the real or only reason. He probably has the answer but what fun would that be? He wanted to hear it from the chibi himself. Cause even before when he wasn’t Port Mafia’s leader, he was just a fellow executive to Chuuya who then had no obligations to follow his demands but still Chuuya would help him out in these trivial things such as paperwork. Sometimes even when he would be just joking about it. Yes, they would fight, argue, bicker but it was never bad.

The nullifier could almost feel his eyes closing reminiscing about it.

His thoughts are abruptly halted when he felt a tug as Chuuya’s hand gripped his strands, abridging the gap between them. It wasn’t a harsh pull but a frail one. Being seated on a higher surface, Chuuya’s body was heavily angled towards him. Resulting in them nearly melting into each other with their faces perilously close. Dazai could feel his warm breath against his lips and his hand raked up against his dark bangs.

Curiosity was thrumming into those blue orbs that were boring down into his brown ones.

It all was a simple move that the ginger-head often used when Dazai wasn’t listening to him but oh goodness gracious! Did it not spark all the wrong things in Dazai!?

But Dazai remained as expressionless as ever.

“Oi! Mackerel? You asleep?”, he craned his head.

Chuuya assumed so because from where he was it looked like he was so deep in own head that he was napping.

Dazai could have retorted like he usually does but there were too many things on his mind. He chose not to and simply let Chuuya put a distance between them again as he let go of him.

“Ha ha! You just looked funny”

Jumping off the desk Chuuya laughed genuinely. He was done with one set so he turned around to place it on the desk to stamp them.

Still Dazai uttered nothing and continued to observe Chuuya who only peeked at him. Knowing that he was strangely not arguing back.

Re-shifting back into signing the papers he called out, “Ne, Chuuya”

The shorter male just paused his movements. His view fixated on the inky imprints of the stamp. He recognises that voice. It’s when Dazai was going to ask something really stupid.

Chuuya carried on with his work, “What is it?”

“Why are you doing this?”

The suicidal mafiaso’s syllables were tonelessly seriousness to Chuuya’s ears. Forcing him to stop again. His vision widened a little in shock. Zapping his head at the brunet in confusion.

“Aah!? What do you mean ‘why I’m doing this?’? Aren’t you the one who asked me?”

“Yes and why exactly are you doing so?”

Raising a brow he inclined his neck, “You mean my motive?”

His hand reached out for another bundle when he just snorted while his lips curved into a soft smile, “Well... I’ll do anything for the Port Mafia and you’re it’s head. As an executive I will do and follow anything you say boss”

Dazai just sat there wordlessly neutral. He twisted around his seat to face Chuuya.

“Is that so?”, he tried to confirm.

Suddenly, Chuuya grasped his hand. Smooth leather slipping into his fingers as the ginger partially bowed in a sparkling display before pulling Dazai’s hand upto his lips and placing a warm kiss on his knuckles like a dazzling prince. Opening his eyes he smirked handsomely at Dazai.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you until the end boss”, he murmured against his skin before adding, “Cause I'll be the one to kill you”

Howsoever, Chuuya’s smugness faded when he saw the other going rigid, stilling in his chair. Orbs large and robotically blinking at him. After if seen a ghost or Chuuya has grown two heads.

“Oi!”

No response.

“O-Oi! Mackerel!”, straightening himself up he checked unsurely.

Still no response. Just a blank stare.

“Oi Dazai! You alive!?”

Squeezing his hand that was still in his hold Chuuya shakes him a little. A nervousness visible on him. What the hell is wrong with this shithead now!? Did he break Dazai? Why is he glitching? This was not the outcome Chuuya anticipated. He thought Dazai would finally get irritated and he’d win for once! Did his tactic to take this bastard down didn’t work!?

“I’ll punch you if you don’t–”

“Do that again”

Out of the blue Dazai came back. His words unsullied and curious. As if wanting to discover a whole new world.

Hearing him Chuuya released his hand. An unconfident trickle on his forehead.

“Hah? Do what?”

“That thing. Again”

Like a record Dazai repeated.

“What!?”, Chuuya raised his voice.

Dazai brought his hand that was held by Chuuya, close to his eye. Probing each and every cell of the kissed area with a fascination.

What to say?

Dazai.exe has stopped working.

“Chuuya kissed me”

He muttered so purely while still looking at his hand, it made Chuuya gag but he couldn’t ignore Dazai’s statement.

“Fuck off! I-I-I didn’t.... kiss... kiss yo-you!”, he blushed furiously at Dazai’s interpretation.

“You did. You proposed me! Do that again”

“What!? I did not pro– pro–... proposed you! Don’t say bullshit”, he attempted to counter but only blushed harder.

Chuuya did not plan for this! He only did that because he thought it would irritate Dazai. But now that he is realising, he was embarrassed enough that he wanted the ground to swallow him whole and never to be seen again. Why did he do that!? He was mentally slapping himself. Now Dazai wouldn’t let him have the end of it!

Dazai’s expression dulls a bit. The nerve of this chibi! Not only he smothered him with his tacky charms like a chibified Prince but also is refusing to take responsibility!? Yes! Dazai was right. Tiny slugs are too stupid to be conscious of their own stupid actions!

The next thing Chuuya registered was being tackled onto the desk by a lanky fish. There was susurrus of papers flying around and falling onto the ground when his back hit the table.

“Fuck! The papers– What are you doing!?

Chuuya grudgingly rebelled. Trying to kick off the mackerel who was stubbornly hovering above him, slotted between his legs in an awkward position.

“Kiss me again Chuuya”

Dazai puts more of his weight onto his hands on either side of Chuuya’s head, essentially encaging him.

“No!”

With one hand on his forehead and the other one at his collar, Chuuya pushed him back but he wasn’t backing off.

“Then Chuuya shouldn’t have proposed me! Mean Chuuya~”

The more Dazai whined the more he weighed down onto him. Chuuya jolts when he felt their crotches almost touching. Reddening up at both Dazai’s claims and this contact.

“Oi! Watch where you are– I didn’t fucking propose to you!”

“But Chuuya said he’d be with me forever! So dreadful~”

“Yeah? As if it isn’t for me!”

“Say that again slug!”

“No! Hey! Don-don’t ge-get so close!”

“Hmm? Chuuya getting shy on me after pulling off such a bold move?”

“Who is fucking shy dammit!”

“Then do it again. Repeat your cute little, romantic oath again!”

“Hell no! And you find that romantic?”

“.....”

“.....”

“Agh! Chibi is an idiot!”

Well, Nakahara Chuuya sometimes be an airhead when it comes to his own qualities and how it can affect others.

II.

“A rain as strong as our bond”

A bazillion raindrops hammered against the black tinted car windows as a single eye gazed out into the bleakness of the morning. It was so desolately grey that it could be hardly tagged as morning. The strong downpour sounded numb to the young boss from inside the vehicle.

“Shigure-san, take the E-42 route please”, Dazai instructed.

“Yes boss”, the driver complied.

“Sadistic bastard”

The whispered profanity snatched Dazai’s mind off from the dreary weather to the person beside him.

“But Chuuya~ I’m just having a little fun”, he defended himself like a reprimanded teenager.

Chuuya’s sight remained unmoved from Dazai before he huffed out, “Well, guess you are right. They’re a bunch of eager fucking shits”

It was almost six thirty in the morning and they were on their way to a meeting with Otsuka Group, an underground organisation who wishes to make a deal with the mafia. Chuuya isn’t ignorant as to why Dazai asked the driver to take E-42. It was a much longer route that would take quite some time to reach the destination. The bandaged machine just wants to play with them a little. Chuuya knew that his senior enjoyed the frustration of these people whenever he’s late on purpose. An indirect mockery that they weren’t worth mafia’s time.

“Ah, well, you see Chuuya, I want them to be eager. We have nothing to lose”

A malicious amusement in his iris.

It was thirty to forty minutes more after which they reached their location.   

“We have arrived sir” Shigure informed pulling the breaks.

Chuuya was about to open the door when immediately a grunt did it for him. They brought a small squad with them which was in the other car, travelling in front of them. Even though it wasn’t really necessary but it wasn’t a disadvantage either. The Italian leather of his shoes presses against the soaked concrete as Chuuya stepped out. The grunt was already present there, holding out a typical, black umbrella for him which shielded the onslaught of rain.

“Good morning sir”

“Morning”

Reciprocating the greeting Chuuya was going to haul Dazai’s ass out of the car who was still there in there. Fiddling with the location of several trackers he had placed on some of Otsuka members in a previous meeting. But Chuuya stopped in his tracks to directly look at the grunt holding his umbrella, who only flinched back. Hoping he did not do anything wrong to offend the second highest authority of the mafia.

However, Chuuya only cocked his eyebrow, “Got an extra umbrella?”

“Ye-yes! Sir”

He was relieved but at the same time unconfirmed as to what the executive intended. Nevertheless he quickly handed another similar looking umbrella.

“Good. Now you can go”

Taking the umbrella Chuuya walked out of the one above him before opening the new one.

“B-but sir!”

Chuuya waved him off in a dismissal. Indirectly telling the subordinate to take it for himself instead. Chuuya didn’t mind these formal language of respect that runs within the mafia but at the same time he also isn’t a sucker for it. He opts out of it when he wants to. Same goes for Dazai but that idiot goes an extra mile. He lets these men open doors for him but not a fucking umbrella! Chuuya doesn’t know what grudges Dazai held against umbrellas but that shithead is always out there without a one. Drenching in the rain like a bloated mackerel.

That’s why the ginger-head is currently going round the car to forcibly put that suicidal maniac under this umbrella, whether he likes it or not.

He absolutely doesn’t want him to get sick!

“Yup! All done”

Dazai declares enthusiastically to himself. Fingers sliding against his phone. Similar to a kid indulged in games, only here he was indulged in toying with people’s lives.

Just at the right moment the car door clicked open. Dazai was hoping a usual underling opening it but instead it was Chuuya. He was so busy that he sort of didn’t see him coming here. His vision perplexed cause Chuuya would be the last person on earth he’d expect to be do any formalities for him. What took him back even more was that he was also holding an umbrella for him.

Dazai’s phizhog quickly morphed into a rare show of panic as he revolted, “Wha? Who are you!? And what have you done to chibi?”

“Tch! You’re always a drama queen ay? Now, get up. I don’t want your sorry ass to get sick”

“Chuuya is–”

“I don’t want you to get sick boss”

Dazai’s brain just short circuited as soon as he’s cut off by that enthralling voice. He just froze at the romantically smooth way Chuuya's hand wrapped around his own. Weakly tugging him to get out. Looking magnificent while offering him the umbrella. His azure orbs so intense in this achromatic downpour.

Chibi was so cheekily chivalrous.

His stomach coils when he comes to the term that they’d be actually sharing an umbrella.

Though Chuuya seemed unfazed by it. Clearly, not getting the depth behind it.

“Hai hai”, he vocalised his defeat.

Dazai is guided out by Chuuya who even closed the door for him after he is under the covering.

All the greetings and bows from the other mobs fell deaf to his ears. His mind was just infested with Chuuya... Chuuya... and Chuuya.

“Chuuya worried about me?”, going up to Chuuya’s ears he hushed before quickly separating.

“Who would be worried about you idiot!”

Chuuya threw him an unentertained look but Dazai knew better. Chibi was trying to maintain his cool which is given away the moment Chuuya swats his face to the other side. To put a secrecy to his pinked cheeks.

They started moving towards the old building where the meeting’s gonna take place when a thought fouled Dazai’s mood.

A thought which Dazai took no time to confront to Chuuya.

“Ne Chuuya? You do this for anyone who doesn’t have an umbrella?”

“Aa? Of course I do”

“Hah? How could you Chuuya!?”

Dazai exclaimed in absolute disbelief. Making the subordinates jump and stop alongside their boss.

“What do you mean how could I!?”

Chuuya shot back with his usual intolerance that comes with Dazai.

“You’re not supposed to offer umbrellas to others!”

Now don’t get Dazai wrong. He just wants that Chuuya doesn’t offer umbrellas to other people because he doesn’t want them to suffer okay!? He isn’t jealous okay!? He just doesn’t want to ruin people’s day. Who would want a tiny slug sharing an umbrella with them right!? It’s not because he wants Chuuya to share such a moment with him only okay!?

“It’s called basic fucking decency!”

“But Chuuya’s sharing an umbrella with me”

“Yeah and?”

“Chuuya offered me an umbrella!”

“So!!?”

“Ugh! Chuuya is such a mook!”

“Who are you calling stupid you low fuck!!?”

“You! Because you are not allowed to go around and help people with umbrella with that face!”

“Hah!!!? Why not!?”

“Cause you’re ugly!”

Of course Dazai lied. To which their banter just exploded.

“Fuck you! You’re the one who’s got a rotten face!”

“But chibi is a dog!”

“Shut up social misfit!”

“Petit Chihuahua!”

“Lanky bastard!”

It was safe to say that at this point all of the other mafia men were thoroughly confused at this argument. They more or less know this strange behaviour of their superiors or particularly Soukoku.

“Bo-b-.. boss...Nakahara-s-san...we have... a meeting?”

III.

“Your softest touch”

Bare foot patted against the marble floor as Chuuya traversed towards his living room. His hands busy rubbing the towel over his head in an attempt to dry his hair. He slung his towel around his neck when he thinks it’s dry enough. He was in a white t-shirt and light blue shorts. A warm shower really helped. It was one of those few days when he was free. It was only nine in the morning and he thinks he will make some breakfast before spending the whole day either relaxing or watching a movie or something.

Coming to the living area he hoped it would be spick and span like it normally was. Spoiler alert! It wasn’t. There was a mummified fish on the sofa. Dazai was sitting there with only his back visible from here. Nonetheless, unlike many other times he broke in, this time there were no comments, taunts, tease from him. He was mum.

Walking briskly Chuuya closed up upon him.

“What the fuck–”

His words died off seeing the mackerel perfectly relaxed against the sofa, eyes closed. Anybody else would have been misguided into thinking that the man here was peacefully asleep. But Chuuya wasn’t ‘anybody.’

“Oi wake up”

He kicked his knee with barely any force.

“I know you’re not asleep”

His visage scrunched up impatiently. He kicked again.

“Stop with the act”

Still nothing from the mackerel. Flopping his eyelids astonishingly, Chuuya dropped his leg. Wait! Did he really? Did he really fall asleep? Chuuya was forced to think the impossible. Dazai’s an extremely light sleeper, so much so that he barely gets any sleep. It’s hard for him to sleep so easily. Even when he’s really sleeping, he is still fully conscious of his environment.

So there’s no way! The shorter male’s internal debate surfacing over him as he suspiciously studied the other. Indecisive of what to do?

He was still clad in his work clothes. Red scarf slinked over his neck. His bangs falling over his eyes were breathtakingly picturesque. His physicality exquisitely peaceful. A rare moment of openness. One thing he was immediately drawn to were the missing bandages over his eye, giving Chuuya a full glimpse at the pair. It instigated a weird feelings inside him that Dazai trusted him enough to do so.  

Chuuya picked his hand by the wrist and shook it vigorously. His sight trained on Dazai for any reaction. There weren’t any. Only the even rise and fall of his chest. An idea popped to him. Dazai wasn’t fond of pain... so... his fingers pinched his cheeks. Nearly stretching it. He let go when he got nothing.

‘Hmm. He really is sleeping. For once’, he pondered.

Chuuya almost felt guilty. Quote, ‘almost’! It was uncommon for him to submerse into such deep somnolence and here he was trying to wake him up. Dazai hasn’t shed his overcoat, waistcoat, shirt or coat. He might have come straight from the headquarters.

The ginger-head was going to let him be until he spotted Dazai’s other hand tucked away in his coat. His brow pinched up. Gearing back he shuffled Dazai’s hand out of the pocket.

Bingo!

Just as Chuuya, sort of foresaw.

His left hand was bloody and full of bruises and cuts. Some on the knuckles, some on fingertips and some on the palm. They were fresh wounds but at least the bleeding had stopped. So, he just came to his home after torturing some tough nuts huh? That’s the sole thing Chuuya concluded cause Dazai wasn’t the type to engage in any serious battle needing strenuous combat.

Chuuya wouldn’t have been an executive based on his physical skills and strength in martial arts or ability alone. He himself can be unempathetic, feelingless and cold. He indeed was so. Hence, he doesn’t feel anything much for these folks that Dazai interrogated, save for pity. What an unfortunate bunch.

Releasing his hand Chuuya left Dazai for few minutes before he returned with a first-aid kit.

Settling down beside Dazai, Chuuya began to work on his wounds. Carefully cleaning them with antiseptics first, then proceeding onto applying the antibiotic ointments. From an outsider’s perspective he seem to have adopted the scenic scenario of a prince taking care of his beloved when he started to loop the bandages around Dazai’s fingers, palm and knuckles. Satisfied with his work Chuuya inspected his hand for any remaining injuries before tenderly pressing his lips against his palm and then fingers.

Though, he haphazardly stood up when he actualized what he was doing. What the hell was he doing!? He found mentally scolding himself as he felt his cheeks get warmer.

‘And what the fuck is wrong with this piece of shit!?’

Looking sheepishly at Dazai he wondered. Since, he was still not awake.

Though one more won’t hurt right?

Chuuya shortened the space between them. His fingers carded through Dazai’s strands as he bends down to place a kiss on his forehead. Moving away he just unfolded the blanket he had brought earlier with the first-aid and drape it over Dazai. Making sure he was fully covered.

Guess he will bear this dunderhead for once.

Don’t get it wrong! Having a tall-ass fish on his couch is still insufferable. They should be in water.

He should prepare breakfast.

No sooner Chuuya's foot crossed the threshold of the living room than he heard this....

“Mmm. What a way to wake up sleeping beauty, hmm?”

Chuuya stopped dead in his path, his breath caught up in his throat. The fact that his heart was beating like crazy would be a massive understatement. He slowly swirled around at the source of those words. Eyes wide in horror cause there was Dazai, wide awake with a devilish smile and a mirthful twinkle in his mahogany irises.

“What!? Wha-... w-wha–wha–..... What the fuck are you doing?”, he sputtered red before screeching, “What are you doing!? Why the fuck are you up!?!?”

Chuuya’s mind was racing tens of thousands of miles. There’s no way! There’s no way that fucker was awake! He should have listened to that tiny gut feeling before.

“Ha ha! What do you mean chibi? I should be the one asking you– what were you doing?”

Laughing heartily Dazai wiggled his eyebrows at the end of the sentence.

‘Shit shit shit shit shit!!!’

A litany of foul notations went off within Chuuya. He was mentally punching himself. He should have known... there’s no way Dazai would be simply asleep.

Chuuya was fucked.

Now he wouldn’t hear the end of humiliation and teasing from Dazai, until he dies.

“Since... since when were you awake?”

He was heating up in embarrassment.

The blanket was falling off. Dazai rested his head against the headrest. His features pleased when he replied with a sickly-sweet stretch of his lips, “Oh~ Chibi... I never slept in the first place”

The younger was just thriving it, since gone was the prince from few minutes ago and now stood there a shy Chuuya who has gone beet red. His lips trembled nervously, opening it and closing it like a fish, not sure what to say and unable to elaborate the situation or make an excuse.

So he goes for this.

“Fuck! Fuck off! You- you-u didn’t se-see anything”

With that he hurriedly stomped off. Averting his ashamed condition.

“Chibiiiii!~ Chibi is being so mean~ Even though seconds ago he was drooling all over me!~”

“I... I-I-I wasn’t doing anything you bitch!!!”

Came Chuuya’s voice from distance.

“Chuuuuuya~ Come here! Lemme torment you more!~”

“Suck my dick!!!”

“Gladly~”

“Oi!!!”

IV.

“Is it an unexpected offer or a competition!?”

Steady and fast rhythm of shoes clopped against the pavement as a short man could be seen pacing through the streets with a taller man following behind, who's steps were equally rigorous.

“Stop following me”

Chuuya’s voice was sharp and non-humorous. Unbothered by it, Dazai’s energy to tag along was unwavering. What ticked off Chuuya even more is him strolling behind harbouring a lax attitude but natheless keeping up with him whenever he sped up a little.

It was actually two or three in the afternoon and Chuuya had just gone for a meal at a regular shop when his luck disastrously derailed. Then and there Dazai just popped in, saying that it was such a coincidence!

‘Coincidence my ass!’

Chuuya’s inner voice retaliated.

It was no mere fortune of stars to link them together! Being the jackass he is, Dazai was just stalking him! Stalking him!? Can you imagine!?

Chuuya could hear that headache worthy hum from the other who was just gleefully trailing him.

“Chuuya was so generous today”

“You mooched it!”, he corrected.

“Wha-? How could I!? You’re the one who offered me such a nice meal”

Dazai clutched his hand to his chest in a disbelieving facade.

“I didn’t. You deliberately followed me like a creep so that you can get a free meal!”, whipping his head Chuuya glared.

“Heh~ Such a mean shortstack. You should be glad and eager to have a meal with your boss”

Chuuya’s forehead twitched at Dazai’s pitchy disapproval.

“Yeah? You’re only saying that so that ya’ can get a free meal on my money. And shut your mouth for God’s sake! It’s so freaking hot!”

It was hot indeed but it was still better with only his white shirt and trousers on. Holding his vest and coat over his shoulder. Dazai too was the same with all of his coat, overcoat and vest folded over his arm. His eye was free of his usual bandages. Making their identities as gangsters a little less obvious. Not that would be much of a problem, since they were still in the mafia territory. Chuuya could have effortlessly gotten a Michelin star worthy meal or any other meal right back at the headquarters... but that’s not always it. He prefers to eat out at regular shops, restaurants and cafes much more and the jackass behind him thinks so too.

“Let’s eat ice cream–”

“I’m not paying”, he deadpanned before Dazai could even complete the sentence. 

Taking a swift turn at a narrow lane Chuuya stopped.

“Was this always here? This florist shop?”

Dazai restrained himself from going further. Taking in the shop alongside Chuuya.

“See? This is what I talk about that atrocious hat eating your brain. It was always there”

Chuuya just boringly scorned at the remark, “Lay off–”

“Let’s go inside”

Cutting him off Dazai just moved into the store by opening the door.

“Hah? What? No!– Wait!–”

Chuuya tried to call him back in the split second but only clicked his tongue when it was ineffective. So he followed him. As soon as he was in there, he couldn’t find Dazai anymore who supposedly has moved to the inner section of the shop containing greater grandiose of flowers. The shop was neither small nor large but spacious enough to be decked with a plethora of flowers. Some of which Chuuya knows whilst most of them being a new or unknown variety to him.

“Irasshaimase. How may I help you?”

The wobbly welcome of an old lady terminated his thoughts. She was supposedly the owner who was giving him a wrinkly smile. Now, look... Chuuya was a cruel mafiaso okay? Him feeling guilty for unnecessarily troubling an old lady, absolutely doesn’t fit his image of a big bad mafiaso.

“Ah- No, thanks actually”, he politely refused her but then suddenly an idea fizzled his brain, so he mended his refusal with a smirk instead, “Well, actually... can you.......”

On the other side of the shop Dazai was immersed in the wide range of colourful flowers brocaded there. It has been already ten minutes of him standing here, what was the chibi even doing? Just as he was musing he felt his presence in his lateral view.

“Oya. Chibi here? I thought you got squashed by the gate cause you’re so tiny”, he addressed without looking at him.

“Ne, look Chuuya–mnbmbn”,

When Chuuya was close enough, Dazai rotated towards him to tease him but this time he was muffled by a dense bunch of roses. Blinking bewilderingly he noticed that Chuuya was holding a large albeit beautiful bouquet of violet and pink roses which was shoved right into his face. His nose tingling with the fragrance.

“Oi! Shitty Dazai.... let’s go on a date, you fuck-turd”

Ignoring the foul language he looked like an absolute sweetheart darling to Dazai. With his vest and coat swung over his shoulder, his hand holding out a bouquet and sapphire orbs searing through him with determination.... Chuuya looked like one of those badass, delinquent princes.

Dazai’s brain went into error 404 not found.

After gawking there for a few seconds or so Dazai reinstated himself back into actuality.

“So that’s what Chuuya was doing. Busy picking flowers for me~?”, he finally dramatized in farce demureness.

“Stop! It’s disgusting. Besides, I wasn’t choosing flowers to gift you.... I just want to show you that I can take you on a better date than you can ever take me. I’ll defeat you!!”

Dazai speechlessly stared at his cute yet serious promise... or threat?

“You want me to take on a date so that you can defeat me?”

“Yes”

“A competition of rivals?”

“Yes”

“Chibi is as thick-headed as ever”

V.

“I’ll catch you when you fall”

Metallic floor grated as Dazai lead himself through the secluded hallway of the armoury. It was armoury number five. One of the many under Port Mafia. His greyish suit aiding him to flawlessly fade against the shadowy blackness enshrouding the place. Save for the few prominent lights here and there.

As he turned right he sensed someone coming from the left.

Unhindered, he stood there with an amused smile.

“Chuuya finally needs my help?”

The said person’s form became a little bit more distinguishable as he emerged from the poorly lit area. The only thing properly visible were his lustrous blue irises that looked hauntingly beautiful while searing through the dimness. They were electrically clear and frigid with a vicious lining to them, as if a predator in the dark. It would have scared the daylights of anyone else if they were here instead of Dazai.

“How about we quickly look at the security system boss?”, he gritted through his false smile.

Dazai continued walking as Chuuya caught up with him. Now going in the same direction.

The ginger-head was here on a regular inspection when the security officer here informed him that they weren’t able to fix a problem they earlier detected in the security system of the armoury. Initially he was confused cause Port Mafia’s security department consisted of no ordinary men. They were capable of formulating the strongest security systems in the world but then it suddenly hit him. It was Dazai who had originally constructed these security labyrinths when he was still an executive.

He had developed them in such a complex manner that now only he can resolve any issues relating to it.

Thus, he was here after an hour or so of Chuuya informing him.

The bandaged man was about step down a flight of stairs when something small and white bolted right up the stairs with a squeak. Startling Dazai who quickly skipped a step to avoid crushing it under his foot causing his legs to falter as he felt himself falling down within seconds.

Adrenaline spiking up Dazai braced himself for an impact on his face, neck or anywhere else but nothing came when a strong force pulled him back as he felt a lean yet muscular arm wrapped around his waist from behind. His breathing eased up upon realising that Chuuya had prevented his, what would have been a pretty painful fall.

However, Dazai horribly malfunctioned.

After all he was in an odd position with Chuuya essentially holding his entire weight and clasping onto him strong. His arm warmly pressed against his abdomen and fingers digging onto his side. His back was snugged against Chuuya’s front.

“What the fuck are you doing mackerel? Going senile already?”, he grunted.

Truth is, Dazai was not Dazaing.

He felt like he was in a Shoujo manga where the prince-like character has just swooped him up to save him. When did he learn to do that. Not that Dazai is unknown to Chuuya’s insane reflexes but how did he learned to execute them in such a flirtatious way!?

His imaginations are broken when he’s released.

“Heh~? Chuuya worried about me?”, he picked on him slyly.

“Ah? I wasn’t saving your ass. You could have died down the stairs for all I care, I was saving this little fella”

Chuuya turned around as he spoke before crouching down in front of the wall where he pointed at the root of all cause. It was a small and fluffy cat that tilted its head inquisitively at Chuuya. It was white with few patches of black on its ear, paw, back and the tip of its tail, curled up there peacefully without a care in the world.

“Of all the things, a cat was able to breach Port Mafia’s security aye?”

Dazai joked. Clearly entertained by the feline’s antics who now sniffed Chuuya’s hand before practically melting into his palm. Rubbing its head and cheek against him while the slug scratched its chin, neck and back.

“Well, it was able to trip Dazai Osamu off. Almost”, petting the purring cat he smirked at him.

“Why are you favouring the cat?”

“It could have got hurt”

“I’m hurt too! Treat me Chuuya. Like a good dog”

“You’re not hurt!”

“I’m fainting. Catch me”

“Tsk. I should have let you fall”

+I.

“Saviour of the strongest”

When Dazai came to Chuuya’s office, he was fully prepared to make his time miserable. It's highly unusual for a mafia boss to visit his executive’s office when everyone was at his beck and call but Dazai was Dazai. Adjusting to the normalcy of the world was the least of his worries. Hence, despite being the leader himself, he often barges into Chuuya’s office to mess with him.

This time however, when he creaked the door open, there were no cutting exchange of words or an angrily reluctant ‘yes boss’. Closing the door he scanned the large room until his sight fell on Chuuya.

Now, this was quite a scene.

A not so often, unique occurrence.

With his head turned to a side on the desk, Chuuya was sleeping.

It was very strange for Chuuya to substitute any work for his sleep. Especially when the main work began now at twelve at night since in spite operating during the day, most of mafia’s crucial work is carried out at night. The fact that he hasn’t responded or reacted to Dazai or anyone coming in signified that it was more than just a slumber. Chuuya’s senses are unparalleled whether drunk or dozing deeply.

Dazai’s expression was still passive as he came closer for an unclouded judgment. That’s when he saw flushed Chuuya’s face. His breath was heaving mildly and there was a glaze of perspiration over his forehead in spite of the air conditioning. Coming around to the side where his face was Dazai touched his forehead with the back of his hand. It was hot.

The brunet was flummoxed at this highly unforeseen circumstance because Chuuya almost never gets sick. His immunity was as brutish as he was. Now here he is, down with a raging high fever.

Chuuya body was running hot and then he suddenly felt something cool against his forehead. It was nice but it was someone’s hand. A very familiar one.

‘Oh. It’s Dazai’, he determined deliriously through his sleep hazed mind. Why is he here?

The gravity user opened his eyes for a second before closing them. Even through the small second of blurriness he could tell that the mackerel looked fresh. With his attire, red scarf and oddly the bandages. He feels like he’s been saved by a mackerel Prince who swam all the way from the fish kingdom at the bottom of the sea. It’s comical.

“He-heh~ Mackerel prince”, he giggled mutely through his fever induced brain.

“Hmm?”

So, chibi’s fever is making him talk gibberish now.

“I said... you’re a mackerel prince”

With that Chuuya passed out again. Dazai just sighed. His fingers curled up against Chuuya’s head, softly massaging him while playing with his hair. Twirling each of his individual strands. 

“Silly chibi. I’m no prince”, he whispered with a diffused laugh.

Dazai was not a prince. He knew that himself very well. He could put on an untrue mask of a one but he was not.

He felt Chuuya shiver under his hand. Oh, the air conditioner. Stupid chibi. Separating himself from Chuuya for a second, he turned it off.

Dazai knows that he was far from the image of a perfect prince. He cannot be someone’s saviour. Deep within, he doesn’t even feel guilty or regret for not being able to be one. He is way too well-versed with his own true nature. It’s just a basic understanding that he was not a good person. He has killed, tortured, manipulated and the list goes on. He either felt nothing or hollowness and if none of these then just a sadistic glee.

Chuuya was no saint either. Dazai knew that the other did equally bad deeds and that Chuuya could be as merciless and feelingless as Dazai himself was. However, he was still human. He still retained his humanity and was far more humane than Dazai. He cared for people; he was kind.

Noticing that Chuuya hasn’t stopped shivering Dazai took off his overcoat and draped it over him. Funnily enough, due to their height difference it nearly covered Chuuya entirely. For now, this was supposedly enough to keep him warm.

Thus, Dazai wasn’t someone’s saviour.

But Chuuya was.

The ultimate trump card who is everyone’s saviour... everyone’s prince because he was strong. His strength surpassed incomprehensible limits. So much so that it’s an adage that he’s invulnerable, mentally or physically.

Running his hand through his scalp Dazai benignly stroked Chuuya’s hair.

But at times like this when the saviour’s sick and down... who’s there for him?

He leans down and softly kisses his head. Standing upright he picked up the land phone on the desk before dialing. It clicked up on the other end a few seconds later.

“Nakahara will be taking a day off today. Retime his schedule”

Hearing the instant yet shaky ‘yes sir’ from the other side, Dazai ended the call. Possibly Chuuya’s secretary being way too paranoid as to why the boss himself called him.

Redirecting his priority back to Chuuya, Dazai pulled him up from the uncomfortable position before picking him up.

“Ugh! Chuuya’s so heavy”

Dazai snickered regardless of the minor difficulty because Chuuya would be so mad if he saw himself being carried bridal style. He looked cute none whatsoever, wrapped and bundled up in his overcoat.

Dazai brought him to the sofa at the other side of the room and laid him down. Flipping open his burner phone open he again called a number. 

“Get a car ready for me”

Dazai stuffed the phone back into his pocket as he lowered himself upto Chuuya’s level to lightly brush his lip against his.

“Let’s get the chibi home”

.

.

.

At times like this when everyone’s saviour was sick and down… Who’s there for him you say?

Dazai Osamu is the simple answer.

.

.

The Demon Prodigy was neither a saviour nor withheld the qualities of a prince....

.... but he was Nakahara Chuuya’s saviour.

.

At the end of the day, he was Chuuya’s personal prince!