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When Kunikida checked on Dazai for the second time that day, he had mentally prepared himself for anything that could happen with this insufferable man. From floating upside down in the river close-by to getting stuck in a plastic drum due to God-knows-what reasons, the brunette could pull just about everything possible on Earth to get on his nerves, and he couldn’t count how many times he had beaten up his partner anymore.
However, of all those things, he certainly didn’t expect to find Dazai absolutely wasted, his face hidden behind his arms, in the restaurant that they frequented like this.
Here was the thing: Kunikida had never, for once in his life, caught his partner drunk like this. He had seen Dazai being tipsy (or pretended to be, although in a very theatrical way), where the bandaged man would try to flirt with every single person that was unfortunate enough to be in his sight. He had seen Dazai being high on magic mushrooms once, in which the brunette managed to scare off Atsushi in an attempt to end his life. He had also seen Dazai being melancholic, swirling his glass of alcohol from side to side when the day was particularly hard (it was the day that one of his “best friends” passed away, as the man had told him briefly in-between his sips). He had seen every little facet of Dazai, all the scars and the most hideous, unlovable things that the man carried, which actually wasn’t that unlovable after all.
But Kunikida had never seen Dazai being drunk. With multiple bottles of sake scattered on the table and no food in sight, which led the blonde-haired man to believe that this was something intentional. Not because he had seen the brunette pulling a stunt like this before (Said man was never drunk, mind you; the worst he had ever been would be tipsy), but by this point he had accustomed himself with other people’s drinking habits to know a basic rule: drinking without any food or water in-between glass shots was just an excuse for someone to be drunk faster.
The blonde-haired man had drunk with his colleagues before, in those rare, one-in-a-blue-moon parties arranged by the Agency, and might get himself one too many drinks.
Dazai, on the other hand, had never done such things. He knew his limits, and he would stop when he felt the need to. So many questions swirled in his mind as Kunikida made his way to where his partner was, trying his best so that his footsteps could be as quiet as possible.
- Oh, Kunikida-kun, you’re here.
The moment he reached the mess, Dazai perked up and looked at him with dazed, red-rimmed eyes. “Is he crying?” , he wondered, taking notes at the way his partner’s words were sticky and heavy and weary, like the bandaged man had given up on speaking all-together. Kunikida had seen it in other people before (hell, even he himself had experienced this), but seeing it happen to Dazai was a strange phenomenon for him.
- You moron, drinking on an empty stomach like this…
The blonde-haired man grumbled as he picked up the empty bottle and started cleaning up like he usually did. The bottles sank, a quiet, heavy thunk echoed every time he tossed one into the trash bin.
- Let me help you too, Kunikida-kun.
Kunikida eyed his drunken partner as the man stood up, swaying on his feet, bringing two bottles to where he was. He decided to be grateful that, at least, Dazai still had some conscience to not drop them on the floor and shatter them instead.
Still, he put a stop to it. He could handle this alright, but if you added the risk of the other man doing something stupid and hurting himself in the process, the blonde-haired man might as well just give up altogether.
- Dazai, sit down…
But his insufferable partner clearly had a different idea in his mind, because said man suddenly surged forward and kissed Kunikida - a messy, abrupt, slightly tangy kiss.
- Dazai, you…
There was something so urgent in that kiss, like it would be the last time they could have this moment ever again, making it difficult for him to even do something. Luckily, he managed (because that was the only way he could describe the struggles) to catch Dazai just in time, one hand holding the bin and the other wrapping around his back and secured him so that both of them wouldn’t trip and fall.
- This moron, what are you…
- I’m drunk, Kunikida-kun… Very drunk, in fact.
The brunette finally pulled away and leaned on his shoulders instead, letting the brown fluffy hair brush on his cheek and lips. He didn’t mind this (he ignored the fact that they were having a blatant PDA moment in a public place), but nonetheless, he was concerned.
- Are you… alright?
Dazai didn’t answer him, but his hug was tighter than before. Kunikida ran his hand through his partner’s hair, moving up and down in a soothing motion. In response, the brunette exhaled quietly, nudging his face further into his neck as he quietly murmured.
- Kunikida-kun, I deserve to go to Hell, don’t I?
- What kind of nonsense are you asking this time?
He scolded the man in his embrace like usual, but there was no bite in it. It seemed like Dazai could understand that too, because he only let out a chuckle (which was muffled by the fabric of his vest).
- With all the attempts that you have seen me do and will try, I’m surprised that you still asked me that question, Kunikida-kun. It’s a high possibility at this point now, isn’t it?
- Don’t talk about dying like that.
Kunikida sighed in exasperation, but Dazai kept going, seemingly unbothered about the idea of death, almost to the point of welcoming it.
- You will then become a model citizen while I finally kick the…
Something broke in his heart as the blonde-haired man heard his partner say so. Even though he knew that this could very much be another moment of morbid impulsivity, he still felt the need to put a stop to it, just to convince himself that those things would never become true no matter what.
- Dazai, don't talk about dying. Or going to Hell. Or something of the sorts.
Dazai tilted his head to the side, glassy brown eyes glanced at Kunikida for a brief moment before he shook his head from side to side and pushed the blonde-haired man away, breaking free from his embrace.
- Don’t lecture me on what to do and not do, Kunikida-kun.
- Dazai… Hey, don’t… Careful…
- You know better than that. Death is an inevitable thing for both of us, just that it will happen to me sooner than you.
Those words were like a punch to the guts, knocking the breath out of Kunikida in one go. He could only stand there, frozen in place, as the brunette swayed and smiled at him wistfully. The distance between them felt like an abyss apart, one that he desperately wanted to bridge but couldn’t find the words or the strength to do so.
- Dazai, don’t… Stop it.
The blonde-haired man murmured in exasperation as he tried again, reaching out to his partner by his arm. It really wasn’t that difficult to gather Dazai back in, especially when said man had been worn down by the weight of alcohol flowing in his circulation.
- Do you think I’m annoying right now, Kunikida-kun?
- You are, all the time, but I don’t mind.
“Or more like I have gotten used to it” , he thought, his fingertips dancing through the brown, slightly wavy locks underneath his chin. His partner sighed and tried (in a half-assed attempt) to pinch him by his waist while mumbling sulkily.
- You can’t just say you don’t mind… Makes me think you hate me for doing those things…
Now this made Kunikida’s heart squeeze in an unbearable pain. Even though he knew Dazai was joking, the tone he carried didn’t sound as cheerful as he normally would be.
So he remained silent, thinking carefully about how to say the things in his mind when his partner continued rambling behind the fabric of his vest.
- Tell me, do you hate me, Kunikida-kun? Are you going to throw me away once I’m so unbearable to the point you can’t handle it anymore?
Letting out a sigh that he had held on for so long, the blonde-haired man patted his partner’s head gently, the motion comforting enough to make the man in his embrace lean further onto him.
- Why do you think like that, Dazai? I have seen the worst of you and your behaviors already... You really misjudged me, you know?
Kunikida’s voice was gentle yet firm, each word carefully chosen to reach the man underneath his chin. In response, Dazai wrapped his lanky arms around his shoulders, looking at him with a smile, the kind of smile that covered up his melancholic mood.
- Aww… Kunikida-kun is the best… I know he will never stop caring for me.
He glanced down to take a better look at his partner. Brown eyes stared back at him, the clearest they had ever been throughout this whole night, with a sense of sorrow that tugged at his heart in good and bad ways at the same time.
- Dazai…
Despite all the theatrical behaviors and all the unbearable shenanigans that got on his nerves, Dazai was… lonely. He was the star that shone the brightest in the sky, but the kind of brightness that only happened when it stood on its own in the night. The brunette never lacked human interactions of sorts - but somehow, Kunikida could still see the cloud of loneliness clung to him like a heavy weight that refused to go away.
The blonde-haired man knew he couldn’t do anything to relieve the pain, so he leaned down and touched his forehead with his partner, his warm fingers brushing at the cold cheeks. The touch was light, almost hesitant, as if he feared that even the slightest bit of pressure might shatter the man in his embrace.
- I don’t hate you, Dazai. I could never bring myself to that point.
Dazai closed his eyes, his breath hitching slightly at the contact, but he didn’t put up a fight to pull away and resist it. Instead, he stayed still, as if soaking up the warmth that Kunikida could offer.
- You’re too kind, Kunikida-kun.
- I’m not. I’m just worried about you.
The bandaged man chuckled softly at those hushed, sincere words that he said, and he could only sigh in defeat. This insufferable person in his embrace right now could very much be the death of him.
- Isn’t that the same thing, my dear?
Kunikida didn’t think so, but when Dazai lowered his head against his chest and hit him square in his heart, he decided to stay silent instead. He could feel his partner sniffling quietly into his vest, but the most he dared to do was kissing those brown locks of hair.
They didn’t move, and neither of them wanted to.
They had all the time in their hands.