Chapter Text
A frustrated groan resonated throughout an empty apartment. A black hat was swiftly discarded on the nearest surface without care. His coat hung oddly askew on the hangers. Struggling to take shoes off, he finally stumbled into the living room. Not even bothering to light his scented candles as usual, he moved onto an open kitchen, taking an already opened bottle of wine to the couch. It was a day where the only thing that could comfort him would be drinking his exhaustion away straight from the bottle. So that is what he did.
Chuuya put his legs on a coffee table. His blue socks with cartoon golden retrievers made an ironic picture contrasting with an intricate design present on the glass surface. He sipped his wine slowly, trying to let an overbearing tension present in his shoulders to leave him. Closing his eyes, he took a long breath. For some time now, he was practising new breathing techniques to ground himself better, alongside some mindfulness bullshit he read online and secretly enjoyed.
For a moment, tuned-out sounds of the city below him overtook his mind, fighting with thoughts of tomorrow's work. And today's work. And the last two week's work. He was on the brink of disappearing into the mountains, never to be seen again.
As if he had wished upon a star, he heard a knock coming from the balcony.
Not even bothering to prepare for an ambush, not quite sure if it was because of his ability or because he would just hand himself over without a fight, he went up to curtains blocking the view. Unfortunately, there wasn't a magical fairy willing to grant his wish nor a group of killers about to end his misery waiting outside. It was a lanky, bandaged freak clinging to the window like an octopus - with his hands and cheek squished against the glass. Chuuya abruptly closed his curtains again, turning back to his couch in denial of seeing his ex-partner on his balcony.
How did he even end up there? Never mind, he thought, that was clearly just a hallucination. Nope. Not gonna entertain him today.
"Chuuya~"
Auditory hallucinations surely are getting better quality nowadays.
"Chuuya, come on! I know you've missed me." The voice taunted him with a sickening lull to it.
When he imagined someone killing him at last, he was not prepared for it to be by persuading him to kill himself with their sheer presence.
"Leave me the fuck alone, Dazai!" he shouted, rubbing hands over his face.
"I cannot, Chibi. I am on an important mission, a quest, you may say." He shouted back, the high pitch still getting through the bulletproof glass. Maybe if he started singing that maniac suicide song again, it would crack eventually? Better not to give him ideas.
Chuuya grunted, already done with the whole situation. "Then find someone else to entertain you."
"Chuuya, if you don't open right now, I will throw myself from your balcony."
He rolled his eyes but still went up to the curtains, revealing the figure behind them again. "You are very welcome to do so. Just let me grab the camera."
"Chibi, it is important. Please?"
Huh, please? That never happens. Chuuya mused, not yet understanding why the bastard hadn't just broken in himself. He hesitated a bit but decided to unlock the doors. "Well, if you beg so nicely."
Dazai swiftly stepped through the threshold, sending him a cold glare. "I never beg, slug."
"Yeah, yeah," he sighed. "Sit or whatever."
Dazai gladly took over the majority of the expensive couch, making himself comfortable, with arms under his head and a content look on his face. It wasn't an unusual sight nowadays.
As of late, Dazai tended to visit him more often since their patchy reconciliation after the whole dragon incident. He would break into his apartment or trail after Chuuya to reveal himself, right before entering the building. Or sometimes in an elevator. Or just outside his doors. Chuuya preferred the first method.
Their complicated rivalry evolved into a somewhat civil acquaintance, with evenings spent complaining about their coworkers with wine and whiskey or arguing over Chuuya's PlayStation. Other times, they would dedicate hours to playing a new, complicated board game, ending either with Chuuya flinging the board into the air furiously or Dazai accidentally sending it to the floor. On more chill nights, they would simply watch a movie, accompanied by their frequent commentary on the plot and characters.
In the beginning, Chuuya would break at some point and fall asleep. Dazai then silently slipped out of the apartment, going back to his semi-comfortable futon. Chuuya woke up in various places, with a blanket draped over him. That had changed one night when a sleepy Chuuya followed after Dazai without a word, catching him just before going out to bring him to his couch silently. He strode back to his room, rummaging the closet for extra blankets and throwing them at a stunned Dazai, followed by a pillow square in his blank face. He had told him to just cut the bullshit and rest and went to his bed. So that is what Dazai did. After staring at a wall for five minutes. Wrapping himself in a warm cocoon, he couldn't place where the comfort he felt came from - the thought of someone being just around the corner, a surprisingly cosy setup or Chuuya letting him stay. Nonetheless, it made falling asleep easier.
The routine continued, accompanied by a grumpy Chuuya shoving actual food into Dazai in the morning. There would be weeks when they wouldn't see each other due to work, followed by one with two or even three visits. That made up a perfect picture of just acquaintances, nothing else.
Chuuya went up to the couch, shoving Dazai's legs off it and sat with his arms crossed. He looked at a pout Dazai sported after being treated so cruelly. Cute, he thought. For some time, he tried to be more honest with himself and not indulge in thoughts that shouted at him to go and put bleach in his ear to cleanse his brain of this bullshit. "You just gonna look at me like a child or tell me what it is all about?"
Dazai looked dully to the side. He picked up his legs to throw them over Chuuya's thighs to irritate him a bit more. "If Chuuya insists, I'll-"
"Get your lanky legs off me!" Chuuya, contradicting his statement, did not move to push them away.
"I know you crave the warmth, Chibi."
"The only thing I'll get from it are bruises if you fidget so much." He swatted at his calves. "Back to the point, Dazai"
"As I was saying before, very rudely, interrupting me. We have a mission."
Chuuya frowned. "Right now?"
"Yes."
"What kind of mission"
Dazai threw his hands in the air. "We are going for an adventure!"
Chuuya paused, looking at the, apparently, very earnest man before him. "Are you shitting me?"
"Nope," he said, exaggerating the word, "you, me and your car. Driving into the setting sun."
"First of all" - Chuuya straightened his posture - "you are not getting into my car. Second, it's night. Third, I'm not going anywhere."
Dazai threw himself over the couch, swinging his arms from its edge, sighting dramatically. "Chuuya is such a buzzkill."
"Chuuya needs to fucking sleep."
"But think of it." - he abruptly sat, taking his legs off Chuuya and bringing them up to his chest, with his hands supporting them underneath his thighs - "Try to squeeze out some brain activity from that head. We'll be driving at night, no one to bother you-"
"Except you." Chuuya made it a conscious habit to interrupt him.
"I have you know, I am a delight," he said affronted.
Chuuya sneered. "No one ever said that."
"Hush, dog." Dazai pushed him a bit forcefully. "It could benefit you! We can stop wherever you'd like. I have everything prepared."
If Dazai had it all planned, that seemed like inviting trouble. He shot him an askance glance. "What prepared? And most importantly, where."
"I will tell Chuuya if he accepts our little quest," Dazai bantered.
"No, I'm not doing that. Also, why are you doing this?"
Dazai couldn't sit still for a moment. Usually, it indicates that he is agitated by something. Chuuya always took notice of those things with him. "We are having a hectic time at the agency with new cases pilling up."
It sounded to Chuuya like a bluff. "And I'm supposed to believe you are staying after hours and doing your paperwork diligently?"
"It's not the paperwork, just investigations on odd hours, and I just-" He exhaled lightly, releasing his legs. "I need this, Chuuya. To let go and have some fun for a moment. To leave it behind and breathe a little."
That struck Chuuya. Not only was Dazai sounding somewhat honest, but he felt the same way. So maybe Dazai was his fairy after all.
"Yeah," he breathed.
"What's that?" Dazai's eyes visibly lightened.
Taken by the sight, not able to do anything but stare at the man before him, offering him an out he was so desperate for, Chuuya couldn't feel anything beyond the relief that had overtaken his whole body. His tense shoulders finally budged a bit. Apart from his getaway fantasy turning real, he couldn't shake off the spark of joy at being chosen for this. For them to go out of the confinement of Chuuya's apartment, not as rivals from opposite organisations, not as partners in missions, but just them, maybe secretly, and not so secretly, enjoying each other's presence. Not being alone in the hurricane of their respective works. And Dazai chose him. Just because he could. Not over others, but above all, over his own solitude. Now, after all those years, he could believe that.
"Yeah," he repeated more firmly. "Let's do this, mackerel, I am on board."
Dazai smiled genuinely. That also had happened a lot more often now. Chuuya liked it.
"Then let me grab my supplies, dear Chuuya." He jumped up and went straight to the balcony.
Chuuya flushed at the endearment but scolded himself quickly. He shook his head and pushed himself from the couch.
They nearly bumped into each other when Dazai was already walking back into the apartment with a picnic basket adorned by a red bow and an opened whipped cream can in his hands. He took a quick shot of the whipped cream, puffing his cheeks like a chipmunk and smiling brightly at Chuuya, with his chin smeared by the white cream.
Chuuya shook his head, not even trying to hide a smirk creeping up on his face. "Sometimes I wonder how you can be such a dumbass and a smartass at the same time."
He mumbled, with his mouth full, "It is a talent, Chibiko."
Dazai instructed Chuuya to change from his work clothes into something more comfortable. That is when Chuuya finally registered two things. One, he never even changed. Two, Dazai wasn't wearing his atrocious detective get-up. He was sporting a huge navy sweater, with his usual beige coat over it and some pair of checkered pyjama pants. How could he not notice before? He looked ready to be cuddled. Welp, that was a clear sign to get the fuck out and change.
Chuuya abruptly turned and went straight to his wardrobe. He was not in the right state to think over his choice, grabbing whatever caught his eye. After changing in the bathroom, he took a moment to slow down and rearrange his thoughts. The man staring at him had some dark circles under his eyes. A striking contrast to his complexion. Old, black sweatpants and a hoodie that he wore when he needed some comfort encompassing his lithe, but strong frame. He was not in his best shape, he had to admit. Still, it wasn't the worst. He looked pretty huggable himself now. Not wanting to dwell on this train of thought again, he closed his eyes and detached himself from leaning over the sink.
"I thought Chuuya fell asleep there," Dazai commented when Chuuya stepped back into the living room.
Chuuya wasn't even able to come up with a cheeky reply. "Let's get going."
Dazai moved and went for the door. Chuuya quickly grabbed his green jacket from the whole Mersault thing and put his disarrayed shoes on. He turned off the lights, closed the door after them and with that, started their one-night runaway adventure.
***
When Chuuya saw his car, he didn't know if he should scream at Dazai or k-kill him. Yes, that word exactly.
"What the fuck did you do?"
Dazai sighed, opening already unlocked doors. "Chuuya is so mouthy when he is tired."
"I am not tired." Chuuya stopped in his tracks.
Dazai glanced at him. "Say that to your face, slug."
"Fuck you."
"Proving my point. Not even expanding on the crude vocabulary, I see." Dazai opened the back door to place the basket neatly on the floor. "Chuuya never appreciates my efforts," he mumbled.
In the backseat, there was already a pile of blankets and a couple of pillows. Chuuya dreamed of someone inventing locks which Dazai couldn't crack easily. Then again, he would always find a way.
Dazai closed the door, going for the driver's seat. That had alarmed Chuuya.
"Not in a million years, mackerel"
They stared at one another over the roof. "Chuuya, I saw that bottle."
Chuuya moved to his side, opening the driver's doors with both their hands on the handle. "I had two sips before a nightmare appeared in my window, so shut up and be the passenger princess you were destined to be." He held his gaze, not taking no for an answer.
Letting go of the door, Dazai swiftly moved to the front of the car. "If Chuuya insists and is sober, then who am I to complain."
Dazai truly wasn't keen on driving, so the arrangement worked out even better for him.
Chuuya climbed into the seat. "Get in and choose some music."
"What an honour!" Dazai grinned, getting into the car himself. "Chuuya letting me pick our runaway playlist."
"Pick something before I change my mind," he said, igniting the engine.
"On it!"
They pulled from the garage, driving without any directions, with music softly playing in the background.