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The rich, comforting smell of coffee being brewed, accompanied by the characteristic crispy flavor of eggs being fried, gently stirred Chuuya out of his slumber.
However, what literally – and quite brutally – kicked him out of his sleepy state was a foot shoved to his face.
“Rrgh?! Dammit, Dazai...!! Move your stinky feet off my face before I break your other leg!!”
Laid in the opposite direction, arms crossed behind his head and eyes closed, Dazai hummed softly, while blatantly ignoring the protests of the one sharing the bed with him. And of course, he kept on prodding the ginger head with his right foot, his left one lying inert on the other side of the bed.
Chuuya suddenly sat up and slapped the air as if trying to get rid of an annoying fly.
“By the way, why are you laid upside down?!”
Dazai clicked his tongue three times smugly. “You got it wrong, Chuuya. You are the one who’s been sleeping in the wrong direction.”
Rubbing his sleepy eyes, the ginger head scanned his surroundings. To his dismay, Dazai was right. He was sitting near the footboard, while his feet were directed towards the headboard. Chuuya grunted, a faint blush tinting his cheeks.
“... 'm sure you’ve turned me upside down so you could pester me better.”
“And how exactly would I have done that?” Far from being offended, Dazai was rather amused by Chuuya’s reaction. “In case you’ve forgotten, my bad leg hinders me even in bed, and I am far from having Kunikida’s strength… No, chibi, you’ve simply got that kind of agitated sleep... Shall I remind you of that one time Kunikida found you floating mid-air while you were peacefully snoring?”
For lack of any pillow to thrown at him, Chuuya merely shot a glare in his direction. Scratching his head, he surveyed the room in search of some clothes to wear. Both him and Dazai were shirtless, due to the… heated cuddling session they had shared with Kunikida last night, and despite the warm rays of the morning sun filtering through the curtains, his still half-asleep body needed some time before it regulated its temperature to a normal state.
But just as he was about to grab on of the shirts lying on the floor, Dazai’s foot kicked him again – this time in the rear.
“What AGAIN?!” Chuuya growled, slowly but surely losing his patience.
“You can’t have that shirt. It’s Kunikida’s.”
The ginger head raised a perplexed eyebrow. “And?”
Dazai rolled his eyes in a theatrically faked exasperation. “And so, it’s waaaaay to large for you.” His act broke slightly when a snicker made his shoulders shudder. “I’m fairly sure your hands barely reach the shoulder tips–”
His sentence got cut off by two hands strangling him.
“For the love of god, shut up!! Why do you always have to be so irritating in the morning?!”
Absolutely not bothered by the fact his jugular was being pressed under the ginger head’s fingers – it even looked like he was enjoying it – Dazai was about to caw another witty reply, when…
CRASH!!!
The sudden crashing sound froze the bickering pair down to their feet. Time seemed to stretch for a lasting second in the shocked silence… before a familiar voice roared in the distance, vociferating insults that even Dazai and Chuuya wouldn’t dare to utter aloud.
“Fuck! It’s Doppo!”
Chuuya was the first to react. Literally jumping out of the bed, he grabbed the first shirt in reach and put it on while sprinting towards the kitchen – where the ruckus had come from.
“Hey, wait– Chuuya! Get my cane!! I can’t reach i–”
Dazai’s cry was cut off by his very cane flying straight into his face. Cursing the gravity user under his breath, the disabled guy imitated him and, deftly passing a T-shirt on with one hand, limped as fast as he could as he followed Chuuya’s steps.
However, upon reaching the kitchen’s entrance, the pair came to a stop. By a silent common agreement, both took a cautious peek through the doorframe, their heads piling up like those of kittens curious yet scared to enter an unknown territory.
“Kunikida…?”
“Doppo, you okay?”
Neither of the Double Black duo members would count the vision that unfolded before their eyes as a “vision of chaos”. Yet, both knew that to Kunikida, this sight – a frying pan upside down on the floor, scrambled eggs and bacon slices spilled all around it and soaked in coffee, the black liquid spreading from beneath broken cups in a dark and hot puddle – definitely did.
The blonde man, who was watching the dreadful disaster with bloodshot eyes, his head ducked inside his broad shoulders and his hands trembling – with too much intensity to be due to distress alone – nearly jumped when he heard the pair calling his name.
“A-ah, it… it’s you two… Did I… wake you up…?”
Dazai immediately understood the situation. When Chuuya met his eyes, he knew both were thinking the same thing. Their bickering now long forgotten, they exchanged an imperceptible nod.
The ginger head walked in first.
“Hey, Doppo. You're not hurt?”
No answer. Chuuya took another step.
“Doppo. Come over here.” His voice was gentle, yet firm.
Kunikida still didn’t budge. Chuuya reached out his hand, reiterating his callout silently. Kunikida stared at him, then at his hand, and then at his own. At those hands which were still trembling, yet not moving an inch to meet Chuuya's.
“Come on, Doppo. Come and sit with us for a second.”
“… I… I c-can’t…”
“Yes, you can. Come on.”
Kunikida shook his head, sobs spreading the shudders up to his shoulders. “I… c-can’t… even take… y-your hand…”
Chuuya pursed his lips.
“Then I’ll take it myself.”
Turning his words into action, the ginger head reached out once more and linked their hands, entwining their fingers together.
“There you go." Offering his partner a soft smile, he gently tugged at his arm, motioning him out of the ravaged kitchen. "Now, come over here. Come sit next to Dazai.”
“That’s right, Kunikida!” Dazai had gathered two chairs near the doorframe while Chuuya was luring their partner, and was now tapping the seat of the one next to him, inviting Kunikida to join him. “Come here and chat with me for a bit. Don’t worry, I don’t bite – well, at least not in this kind of situation~”
The joke didn’t induce any reaction in Kunikida. The dark scowl on his face looked like one of a frail and lost child – a vision that stung at Dazai’s heart, for it reminded him of a certain child sharing the same look. A child he had tried to kill so many times, yet who was still holding onto him somewhere deep within in hollow heart.
Once Kunikida had sat down, Chuuya squeezed his hand reassuringly one last time, then proceeded to take the materials he would need to clean up the mess. His shirt was a tad too large for him – this would make it difficult to clean without being bothered by the loose fabric around his waist. Chuuya appeared to notice it, as he knotted the rim of the shirt above his hips. He also tied his hair into a small ponytail – this style always looked good on him, Kunikida thought.
“So!” Dazai chimed, rousing him from his daze. “Tell me. Were you preparing us breakfast? What a delicate attention~!”
“… Stop being so cheerful.” Though his voice was still wavering, Kunikida had regained some of his usual severe self. “It’s… all ruined, now.”
“Roh, pfft, it happens, sometimes. I mean, I always ruin any meal I try to prepare. You should know this better than anyone, since you’re always the one scolding me for ravaging the kitchen!”
“Yes… it’s true, but…” Glaring at his trembling hands, Kunikida managed to clench his fists. The amount of effort this simple gesture cost him increased his frustration tenfold. “It’s because you’re a dork. While I… I…”
“Aaaaah, but you knooooow…” Dazai cut him off, nonchalantly throwing one arm around his shoulders. “Scrambled eggs and bacon… Mmh… That’s not quite right…”
“… what?”
Dazai shot him an impish grin and raised his voice as if intending to speak to Chuuya – a rather unnecessarily exaggerated move, since the latter could perfectly hear him from where he was.
“Honestly, I’m not in the mood for a salty breakfast today. I’d rather have something sweet!”
Kunikida blinked several times, confused. “What…? But you always–”
“Well, not this time!” Dazai interrupted him once more. “Blame it on Ranpo for sharing too much of his snacks with me on the daily, but I’ve grown quite used to it… The sugar… Ah, that’s right! Right now, I crave some good sugar! So forget about the eggs and bacon… instead, let’s have some–”
“Pancakes! How ‘bout we bake some together?”
This time, it was Chuuya who had interrupted Dazai. His head thrown back, the ginger head was grinning from ear to ear.
“… Since when do you finish my sentences, slug?” Dazai’s annoyance sounded more genuine than his previous speech, Kunikida couldn’t help but notice.
“You’ve done it with me so many times before, mackerel. Don’t blame me for wanting to take revenge, at least for this time.”
“Heh. What has happened to you? You’re not so keen on acknowledging we’re on the same page, usually.”
Chuuya merely shrugged. “If it’s only about food, I don’t mind.” As a smug smile curved his lips, he added: “But that should be my line: what has happened to you? Where does this sudden craving for sugar comes from?”
“I’ve said it already. It’s because of Ranpo.”
“Mm-hm, right. I’ll have to ask him how he managed such an exploit next time I see him.”
“Don’t you dare…!”
Kunikida watched the pair bickering in sheer bewilderment. Then, he heard a cackle. It was only when Chuuya and Dazai stared at him that he understood the one cackling was him.
“What… what are you two trying to pull, exactly…?” he managed to utter.
Dazai scowled at Chuuya. “Ugh… Congratulations. You’ve ruined my act.”
“As if he would fall for something so big, come on,” Chuuya sneered back. “Even I know your great detective doesn’t share his snacks with anyone.”
“Oh, but he does. Sometimes. On specific occasions. Very specific occasions.”
Kunikida broke into another giggle. And though seeing Chuuya approach him and kneel before him should have prompted him to stop, he was still too much on edge for his body to listen to him.
Leaving the broom and towels aside, Chuuya gently took one of Kunikida’s hands in his. With tender gestures, he stroked the wrist, where a scar should have been if Yosano’s skill didn’t erase all traces of wounds…
… or at least, the physical ones.
“Listen, Doppo. I can understand you want to use your hands like before. I mean, they’re still here. You can feel them. Anybody would do the same.”
His eyes unconsciously glided to look at Dazai for a brief second. The latter’s expression got solemn as the move didn’t go unnoticed by his sharp observation skills.
“… Yeah. He’s right, Kunikida.” Averting his gaze so as to not show the hurt hidden in the depths of his dark eyes, he mimicked Chuuya’s gesture and took the blonde’s other hand in his. “I have ceased to count the times I tried to walk without my cane, only to get a slap of reality reminding me that I just can’t walk like I used to anymore.”
Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he tossed his head back and went on with a more carefree tone.
“But you see, a certain someone once told me that I shouldn’t dwell on it too much. Because as hard as it is, I wouldn’t have to suffer it alone.” Opening one eye, he winked knowingly at Kunikida. “And I think this certain someone should consider applying those comforting words to himself.”
Kunikida’s heart swelled, overwhelmed by a powerful mix of emotions. Taking deep breaths, he focused on his hands. They were not shaking as much as before. So, he slowly folded his fingers so as to completely hold the hands of his two life partners.
“You’re right,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Chuuya took advantage of the fact Kunikida’s head was, for once, within his reach to ruffle his hair affectionately. “Life is shit, but it goes on. Don’t worry. We’re here for you. We’ll be until we draw our last breath.”
He glanced again at Dazai, not so subtly this time. So that the brunette could read the message in that simple gaze: “The same goes for you”.
Dazai chuckled softly.
“Well, now that we’ve exchanged our vows in the most moving way…” Smirking to himself, he clapped his hands together. “Shall we prepare those pancakes?”
Chuuya tossed his head back and laughed wholeheartedly. “For once I agree with you, you damn mackerel!”
Kunikida himself couldn’t help but draw a faint smile.
Chuuya stood up, slamming his fists against his hips in a determined pose.
“Alright, gimme just five more minutes to clean up this mess, and…”
He trailed off upon noticing the knot around his waist had gone undone. Grunting under his breath, Chuuya aggressively took the rim of the shirt to tie it again, perfectly aware that Dazai was about to burst out laughing.
“See? I told you Kunikida’s shirt wouldn’t suit you~”
“Shut UP! It’s very comfy, it’s… just not made for cleaning…”
“Huh? Chuuya has my…? Then, whose am I wearing…?”
“Obviously mine!” Dazai chuckled, before his expression twisted into one of discontent. “Ugh, I knew I had a hard time passing this one on… It’s because it’s yours, chibi!”
Against all odds, Chuuya snickered.
“So what? Are you that much bothered that it highlights your chubby belly?”
Taken aback, Dazai snapped his mouth shut and glared at him, unconsciously palpating his belly which, indeed, showed some incipient bulges.
“Now, now, let’s not fight over such silly things…” Kunikida tried to temper the pair. “I’ll do the cleaning. I–”
“Nope, no!” Chuuya interrupted him in a childish stubbornness. “It’ll go faster if it’s me doing it.”
Chuuya then touched the broom rather than taking it, and a second later, the thing moved on its own, a reddish glow surrounding it.
“See? Now quit complaining and take the ingredients we need. I’m starving, so let’s make lots of those pancakes already!”
“… Why exactly didn’t you do this from the start?” Dazai scoffed, pointing at the moving broom. “Haaa, I swear… Your power is so convenient, yet you’re so stupid you don’t even know how to use it properly”
“SHUT UP!! Couldn’t you just point it out instead of criticizing me afterwards?!”
Kunikida watched the pair going for each other’s throats again, as if he was an external spectator of this familiar scene of this everyday life. His everyday life.
A life he was more than glad to share with those two idiots he cared for… and who cared for him and supported him in return.