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When Dazai opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Chuuya falling to the ground.
Thank god. They’d won.
With a practiced ease, he caught Chuuya, watching with his heart hammering as the red marks faded off his skin, leaving only the red of his blood behind.
“Dazai…?” Chuuya croaked, blinking slowly.
“Yeah. I’ll carry you this time, slug.” Dazai began moving, and neither of them mentioned he always carried Chuuya after corruption. That’d mean admitting he cared.
Not like Chuuya really minded. When Dazai placed him in the passenger seat of the car they’d stolen, he let out a quiet whine, like he was upset about being put down. Dazai just brushed it off, hopping in the driver's seat and speeding off to Chuuya’s apartment.
By the time they got upstairs, Chuuya had nearly fallen asleep in Dazai’s arms, clinging to him like a baby.
“Fucking idiot,” Dazai whispered, picking the lock and swinging the door open to the apartment. He set Chuuya down on the couch, laying out a blanket so he didn’t get blood on the cushions, checking his wounds. He peeled his bloody clothes off his body, whispering a quiet apology when the binder had to come off. Chuuya whined again, and Dazai could tell he was far from lucid.
This would be a long night for them.
Thankfully, Chuuya hadn’t broken any bones this time, and most of the damage was just some superficial cuts. Still, he was covered in blood, so Dazai left him on the couch while he started a bath. Since Chuuya wasn’t the one running the bath, Dazai picked the soaps he wanted Chuuya to smell like (he would have to abandon ship if it smelled like lavender any more than Chuuya already did). He’d just tossed a bath bomb in when suddenly, there was a loud thump from the living room. Expecting the worst, Dazai darted in quickly. Chuuya was on the ground, propped up. His mismatched eyes blinked up at him hazily.
“D’zai?” he asked, tilting his head.
“I swear to god, if you EVER scare me like that again, I’ll fucking kill you,” Dazai panted, lifting Chuuya off the ground. “C’mon, we’ll get you clean.”
“Where’re my clothes? Where’re we?” he slurred, leaning heavily on Dazai.
“We’re in your apartment. Did you hit your head when you fell?”
“No. Just woke up ‘n’ rolled off. Didn’t hit my head.”
So he’d been out since corruption had gone. Shit, that was longer than last time, Dazai thought to himself, anxiety already starting to gnaw at his stomach.
“As long as you didn’t hit your stupid head. Here,” he set Chuuya down on the toilet seat, “get your jeans off.”
Dazai made himself busy as Chuuya got the rest of his clothes off, then climbed into the bath full of bubbles. Dazai cleaned his hair, as close as he could to how he knew Chuuya did it.
“How’s it going, Chuuya?” he asked, trying to keep his tone level. Any admission of how bad it scared him when Chuuya was like this would definitely be used against him.
“D’nt feel good,” he murmured.
“Yeah, I know. Once this is done, you can nap, kay?”
“Kay,” Chuuya whispered, turning once his hair was done so his chin was resting on the edge of the tub. Dazai just continued cleaning him, gently washing the blood off his face. He was warm, and he looked a little peaceful like this.
“‘Zai,” he grumbled, closing his eyes. “D’nt feel good.” Dazai just hummed quietly in acknowledgement, but as soon as he took his hands off Chuuya’s face, he gagged weakly, letting out a thin stream of vomit onto the floor.
“Shit, Chuuya!” Dazai yelped, trying to move away from it. Chuuya just whined, repeating the action, coughing slightly.
“I wanna go homeeee,” he whimpered, sniffling.
“You are home,” Dazai assured him, trying to hold himself together. “Come on, let’s get you out of there.” Chuuya complied as the bath was drained, shakily getting to his feet. Dazai quickly dried him off, wrapping him in a towel and lifting him in a bridal carry.
“Are you gonna get sick again?” Dazai asked, trying not to move Chuuya too much. It seemed like he was becoming more and more out of it by the second, because he just let out a soft cry, burying his face in Dazai’s chest.
“Okay,” Dazai breathed, anxiety now off the charts. “We’ll get you dressed, okay? I’ll check your temperature after.”
Chuuya nodded, and Dazai had the feeling he’s not even able to listen to his words. He carried Chuuya to his bed, setting him down before grabbing some clothes for him. He tossed the underwear to Chuuya, and thankfully, he put them on without any issue. Dazai was a lot less confident about him being able to get the rest on his own, so he helped. It wasn’t his first time doing this for Chuuya. Chuuya’s done it for him before, too. They’ve got an unspoken agreement to not bring it up. Once he’s finished, he pressed his hand to Chuuya’s forehead. He definitely felt warmer than he should.
Well, fuck.
“Hey, Chuuya, c’mere, lay down,” he instructed, gently guiding him to lay down. He complied, whimpering softly, and Dazai felt terror run through his body. Chuuya, who was unbreakable, who wasn’t weak in front of anybody but him, was reduced to this.
He shook the fear out of his brain– or tried to, at least– and grabbed a towel, heading to clean up the bathroom. It didn’t take long (the vomit was mostly water, which concerned Dazai for a wide variety of reasons), and he was back in the bedroom in no time. Chuuya hadn’t moved, looking like he was close to falling asleep. Dazai felt so bad for what he had to do.
“Chuuya,” he said, shaking his shoulder. “You’ve got to stay awake, I’m sorry. You need to get hydrated.”
Chuuya sat up, shaking his head weakly. “‘f I drink, ‘ll get sick again… ‘m already disgusting enough…”
“No, hey, you’re not disgusting. It’s okay. You’re just a little sick right now,” Dazai reassured him, trying to ignore the way his heart dropped at those words as he rubbed his back. Chuuya brought a hand to his mouth, looking pale, and Dazai nearly panicked, lifting him again and quickly carrying him to the bathroom. When he tried to set him down in front of the toilet, though, Chuuya whined, clinging to him.
“I don’t wanna get sick, ‘m gross, ‘m so gross……”
“It’s okay, you aren’t gross, shhh…” Dazai returned to rubbing Chuuya’s back as he sobbed, shaking pitifully in his arms. “You’ll feel better if you get it out now, I promise. It’s gonna happen again, but once it’s done, I’ll get you some water and get something on your stomach so you can go to sleep. Does that sound good?”
“I don’t wanna eat, either……that makes me gross, too… ‘m just repulsive, I don’t wanna be…” he sniffled, and Dazai felt a pit in his stomach. Carefully, he sat down, adjusting Chuuya in his lap.
“Chuu, look at me,” he said. Chuuya looked up at him, eyes watery as he did. Dazai sighed, tucking a piece of Chuuya’s hair behind his ear. “You’re not disgusting. Eating isn’t gonna hurt you, I promise. I know it seems like it, but it’s okay. God, I wish you’d told me.”
“B’t ‘ts dumb.” He pressed his face into Dazai’s chest.
“It’s not dumb. It’s really difficult, but it’s not dumb. We’re in the same boat, okay?”
Chuuya paused, before blinking back up at him again. “You too?”
Dazai nodded, and somehow, that seemed to calm Chuuya down. He laid back on Dazai’s chest, breathing heavily.
“Still don’t wanna throw up.”
“I know. I’ve got you.”
Dazai felt like a fucking idiot. He should’ve been able to notice the way Chuuya’s behavior mimicked his own, but he missed it. Thinking back, he missed every single flag, waving red at the ends of his vision. He should’ve known.
His anger at himself was broken shortly, though, because Chuuya leaned forward with no warning, just barely getting himself over the toilet before vomiting again. Dazai held him up as he let out more bile, but it seemed like the nausea was more than what was actually in his body. Eventually, he was reduced to just dry heaving, without even the energy to cry anymore.
“‘t hurts,” he wheezed, collapsing back against Dazai.
“Yeah, I know. Come on, you need some water,” he said, lifting them both off the ground with a grunt. Chuuya shook his head.
“I don’t–”
“You don’t want to. I know, Chuuya. But if you don’t, you’ll get dehydrated, and I’ll have to take you to the hospital. Neither of us want that,” Dazai explained, slightly exasperated, “so you’ve gotta drink. I’m sorry.”
Chuuya went quiet at that, tilting his face away from Dazai. Okay, maybe he was a bit harsh. But it was the truth.
Carefully, he set Chuuya down on the couch before heading to the kitchen. He could hear Chuuya curl up, letting out a sigh of comfort.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep,” Dazai called as he rummaged through the cabinets, and Chuuya groaned in reply. Dazai rolled his eyes, pulling out a small cup with a straw and filling it with water and a bit of ice before bringing it to Chuuya. Mismatched eyes glared up at him, but Dazai just raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t wanna go to the hospital, right?” he asked. Grumbling, Chuuya took it, taking tiny sips of it. Dazai sat on the couch beside him, turning on a random movie he found interesting. He watched it until he heard Chuuya’s quiet snores, letting out a sigh he didn’t even know he’d been holding. Already feeling exhausted, Dazai got up, lifting Chuuya off the couch, blanket and all. He set his cup on the coffee table before carrying him to his bedroom, situating him neatly on the bed. When Dazai put his hand to Chuuya’s forehead, it seemed like his fever had gone down. Finally, finally, Dazai felt like he could relax, going through the motions of getting ready for bed. He was just tired enough to convince himself to take a quick shower, not bothering with any of Chuuya’s fancy soaps. He wrung his hair dry, then dried off, headed for Chuuya’s closet to steal some of his clothes. He paused for a moment midway through grabbing a shirt. He’d taken all his bandages off to shower, and everything was out in the open. What felt like thousands of scars would be visible to Chuuya whenever he woke up, littered across his body like stars in the night sky.
But, he thought, glancing back at Chuuya, maybe both of them being vulnerable wouldn’t be so bad for them. He grabbed one of Chuuya’s sweaters and a pair of shorts, quietly slipping into them. There was some soft murmuring behind him as he did, presumably Chuuya shifting in the bed.
“‘zai… c’me back…” Chuuya muttered, his voice heavy with sleep. Dazai couldn’t help but smile, scrunching his hair in the towel again before tossing it over the side of Chuuya’s hamper.
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, climbing in beside Chuuya. “You’re needy, huh?”
“Sh’tup. Stupid fish,” he grumbled, wrapping himself around Dazai. “Y’re warm.”
“I showered, so I’m clean too.”
It took a second, but Chuuya moved ever so slightly, kissing Dazai’s neck. Dazai could feel his whole face heat up.
“The fuck was that for?” he hissed, thanking his lucky stars the lights were out.
“F’r takin’ care ‘f me,” Chuuya answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Dazai said, still flustered. Chuuya just huffs.
“I w’nted to. Sh’tup so I c’n sleep.”
Dazai didn’t have any problem doing so, getting quiet fast as Chuuya nuzzled into him, warm face pressed against his exposed neck as his breathing evened out, falling into a deep sleep.
“Love you, Chuuya,” Dazai whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of Chuuya’s head.
In his sleep, Dazai could swear Chuuya said it back.