Work Text:
All's well that ends well (to end up with you )
1.
Chuuya had always been an early riser.
Since he was just a child he had always, always naturally risen before his alarm would go off, enjoying the few moments of quiet before he had to get up and on with his everyday life. His mum worked long hours most days at the hospital and usually left by six am, so that mostly entailed making himself breakfast and lunch and get ready for school. Easy peasy. He could do that without issues by the time he was, like, seven.
Once he grew up and moved out to go study in Yokohama, he used this peculiarity of his to find himself a part-time job that could fit into his very busy Uni schedule.
The coffee shop he worked at opened at seven sharp every morning, and Chuuya had happily taken the first shift for himself on most days.
That Tuesday afternoon was an exception.
He hadn't been scheduled to work, originally, but Atsushi had been sneezing and sniffing and generally feeling lousy the entire day before, and Chuuya wasn't a cruel manager that asked people to pick themselves up when they were sick. So he had sent him home and, after having a look at the kid's rota to cover as many as his shifts as possible, had taken up that particular one himself.
It wasn't like he had classes that afternoon anyway, and picking up a couple extra shifts before finals might not be the worst idea. Life was expensive.
“It's so weird to see you here at this hour,” Tachihara told him while he took care of the latte art for a drink.
“Tch, it's not like I'm never here on afternoons. I almost always have doubles on weekends.”
“I know,” he answered. “Which is why you should take better care of yourself and relax on your only day off.”
Chuuya shrugged and started a new drink.
“I won't have any over finals week.”
“... That's not relaxing at all, man.” He looked over Chuuya' shoulder. “Tell him, Oda! It's not healthy, is it?”
Chuuya turned to smile at one of their regulars, who raised his hands.
“I don't think I should be getting in the middle of this.”
“That's right, you shouldn't. I'll be fine. Now go and clear those tables, Tachihara.”
Pouting and mumbling, Tachihara got himself a rag and did as told. Chuuya smirked and turned to his costumer.
“He's not completely wrong, you know. You should rest more. I'd complain to the manager, if I were you.”
“I'll be sure to tear myself a new one in front of a mirror as soon as I can.”
“Good. You need downtime and should remind yourself that.”
“I'll have plenty of that after graduation next year.”
“Liar.”
He passed him his Americano and Oda gave him a grateful nod.
“All alone today?” he asked, to change the subject.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, subconsciously touching the red band around his neck. “The better half is at his internship, which gives me plenty of time to work on my thesis.”
“Convenient.”
“Definitely. But don't tell him that, please: getting a lecture from an almost-lawyer is never fun, believe me.”
“Noted,” and they smirked at each other.
He briefly wondered how it would be to be in Oda' shoes, to be one of the lucky few that had actually managed to meet their soulmates in their lifetime, to feel the circle around their neck change until it was a dark, full red instead of plain black.
Not that he cared that much, of course: it was something so rare that most people never really met their fated one during their life. Too much of it was left to chance, and finding one' soulmate was generally considered a statistical improbability.
Chuuya only knew two people that did: his sister and Oda. He had asked her, once, what it had felt like. She had smiled and pet his hair like she used to do when they were little, and she had described it like out of a textbook on the topic: a serendipity-like moment of clarity, when everything had stopped and the world around them had seemed to disappear, and all that had been left was the person in front of her. Her neck had warmed up while the colour changed, and everything had shifted and refocused on her soulmate, filling her heart and lungs with everything.
It seemed almost too good, too perfect to be accurate, but Chuuya had not told her that. He had accepted her pets and moved on to another topic.
Now, he shook his head and turned his attention back to the man in front of him.
Oda had not moved, and there were no costumers coming in, so he noticed him checking his watch and sighing.
“Waiting for someone anyway?”
“Yes, and he's late.” He twisted his mouth. “Never invite your ever-late disaster of a friend to a study session. Trust me on this.”
“Will keep that in mind.”
“I've been telling myself forever that I should just start lying and tell him to come at an earlier time, but I think he'd just know anyway and arrive even later out of pure spite.”
He snorted, and made a girl that had approached her second cappuccino of the day.
“He's about to get here though, apparently,” he said, checking his phone. “Would you mind getting a white chocolate mocha ready for him? Be generous with the syrup, please. And-” he shivered a bit. “Put some caramel drizzle on top, please. He likes his drinks sweet.”
He almost sounded apologetic.
“It's far from the weirdest order I've gotten since I've started here.”
“Yeah but he drinks, like, three a day. Four if he hasn't slept much the night before.”
“... That's definitely not good for him.” He started on it anyway. “How is he still alive?”
“I honestly have no idea.”
Chuuya had just finished topping the coffee with whipped cream and caramel, when the door opened and a guy entered, raised his hand and shouted:
“Odaaa~ Sorry for the wait, Dazai took forever with his shower!” And he pointed a finger to the person right behind him, who puffed his cheeks.
“It's not my fault you two didn't invite me to your study group earlier, Ranpo. I feel so deeply betrayed.”
“Don't you always say you prefer to study alone?”
“Yes, but it's the principle of the thing.”
“Which is the reason why he decided to come along when he found out: spite.”
Ranpo finished, and flashed a grin at him when he went to grab his cup, but Chuuya didn't even notice: the stranger – Dazai – had just looked up and met his gaze.
Time seemed to still and the world around them muffled and felt impossibly removed from them. The only things that mattered, in that moment, were his neck getting warmer and the guy in front of him. If he had been looking into a mirror, Chuuya was sure he'd be seeing the same dazed look that Dazai had, and the black of his band fade to leave place to a bright, cherry red.
Ane-san had not be wrong about the moment you found your soulmate, apparently.
“Hi,” he breathed out, voice barely more than a whisper.
Dazai blinked, almost reluctantly, like he was worried Chuuya would disappear if he lost sight of him for too long.
“... I don't even like coffee.”
Those were the first words his soulmate uttered to him.
Well, Chuuya thought, covering a loud snort with his hand. He had always liked them kind of dumb. Things were up to a very interesting start.
The first conversation he had with his soulmate – his soulmate, what the actual fuck was even happening right now – occurred while sitting across each other at a table in Chuuya's coffee shop, only moments into their first meeting.
He had scrambled to get his apron off and left the others to deal with costumers while he took his break. Tachihara had snorted at his antics and told him to take his time, they could deal with this slow afternoon without him. Some things were more important.
Dazai – that was the name of his soulmate, Dazai – was staring at him like the sun shone out of Chuuya's ass, a quiet wonder and a very loud excitement written all over his face that had Chuuya sweat inside.
“So,” he cleared his voice and hoped it wouldn't crack. “You're Dazai.”
“Yes,” the other answered. “Osamu. Dazai Osamu. And your name is...”
“Chuuya. Nakahara Chuuya.”
“Chuuya...” He said it like he was savouring it, like he was properly tasting the way it rolled over his tongue. Suddenly, his palms felt clammy, and he thanked fuck he hadn't tried to hold his hand just yet. Then he had to ignore the disappointment at the fact that they weren't holding hands.
Fucking hell.
If Dazai had noticed his inner conflict, he didn't show it, still in the midst of trying out his name. He nodded, satisfied.
“I like it.”
“Thank you? I guess.”
Dazai flashed a lopsided smile that made Chuuya's stomach do a flip. He flexed his fingers on his thighs and willed himself to fucking get a grip.
“So,” he cleared his voice again and got hold of his mug, more to have something to do with his hands than for real need to drink. “You-” He swallowed and made the mistake to look at the other in the eyes. Immediately, his mouth dried out and his brain stopped supplying him with proper words. Fuck.
“I'm what?” Dazai asked, his smile turning fully amused. Wait, were his fucking teeth shimmering in the afternoon light? How?!
He shook his head and took a breath.
“Sorry. I promise I usually have a functioning brain. It's just- This is a lot.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, and sipped his tea while his eyes seemed to be drinking up Chuuya's every detail. They made him feel tingly all over.
“Isn't it supposed to be smooth sailing, after the first meeting?”
“Well, we are complete strangers. Why don't we start with the basics? I'm twenty-two.”
“Oh, me as well,” he smiled, his body relaxing the tiniest bit.
“Marvellous. At least we don't have a crazy age-gap.” He propped his chin up on his hand. “And what do you do, other than being Odasaku's favourite barista?”
“I'm a student,” he revealed. At least this was something he could talk about. “I'm a third year in the Japanese lit department at Yokohama City. What about you? I think your friends said you're studying as well?”
“Prepping for the Bar. I'm supposed to take it in a couple of months.”
He tilted his head in confusion.
“Didn't you say you're only twenty-two?”
A shrug.
“I skipped a few grades.”
“No shit,” Chuuya looked him up and down, and he seemed to be preening at the attention. “You don't look like a genius.”
For a second, Dazai just stared at him and blinked; then, he burst out laughing.
“Yeah, I know. Even though I'm not as smart as Ranpo over there. The man's IQ is off the charts.”
He glanced at where Oda and this Ranpo guy were pretending to be studying when they were actually spying on them. Very badly.
“You sure?”
“Yep. Don't let his silliness and apparent stupidity trick you. Looks can be deceiving.”
“Well, it's not like my friends are being more subtle than yours while watching us, so who am I to judge?”
Another light chuckle.
“They are all being very nosy, aren't they?”
“Embarrassingly so.”
“To be fair, it's not everyday one of your friends finds their soulmate. We can cut them some slack.”
“I guess...” He move his attention back to Dazai's companions. “Both of yours already sport their own red band though.”
“Most of my friends do. I'm the odd one out of the group.”
“What?! How?!” he lowered his voice and leaned closer over the table. “Do you have, like, three friends in total? Because that would still be fucking crazy, but-”
“Not really. I'm pretty sociable under the right conditions.”
“Which are?”
“The ones that don't let me just stay in to do absolutely nothing a part from re-watching old shows.” Chuuya tilted his head, but Dazai just shrugged. “Odasaku and Yosano are the main reasons my group of friends is as big as it is. Met most of them through them.”
That name stood out.
“Yosano? Yosano Akiko the med student?”
“Do you know her?”
“She's my sister's girlfriend!”
“Eeeh, it is a small world, after all!” He smirked and got closer. “Can't wait to see Kouyou's face when she finds out I'm her little brother' soulmate.”
“And why is that?”
“She finds me highly annoying and obnoxious.”
“... You're a menace, aren't you?”
“I prefer to say I'm an acquired taste.”
Dazai simply beamed when that made Chuuya laugh, like he had just unlocked his new favourite thing in life.
“Maybe I'll let you be present when I let her know. If you're nice enough.”
“I'll be on my best behaviour. Scout's honour.”
“Why does something tell me it doesn't mean much, coming from you?”
“Because you have very good instincts.”
Chuuya laughed again at that, and Dazai's entire being seemed to glow form the inside, a satisfied grin completely taking over his face. He looked like a cat in front of his new favourite meal. It made a weirdly pleasant shiver ran down his spine, and Chuuya felt like he suddenly wanted to see him like that all the time. He would never get tired of it, of that was painfully sure.
Then he realised how stupid that sounded and thank fuck he hadn't said anything out loud.
“Chuuya?” Tachihara's voice, right next to him, made him go back to reality.
'Oh, right. I'm at work.' He thought, a bit dazed.
The mid-afternoon rush was in full swing, and he noticed the others struggling to keep up. His friend's face was full of guilt while he kept speaking:
“I'm sorry, I really, really am, but we need you to-”
“Help,” he finished for him. “Coming in a second, promise.”
Tachihara threw a last apologetic look at Dazai and ran back to the counter.
“I need to-”
“Yes,” Dazai nodded, but he was honest to fuck pouting. “I get it. No worries.”
Chuuya bit his lip.
“We should see each other-”
“Why don't we meet up agai-”
They blurted out at the exact same time. They looked at each other and chuckled.
“Yes,” Chuuya quickly jotted down his number on a piece of paper and slid it across the table. “Call me, okay? Or text me. We should talk more.”
Dazai took it like it held every answer he had ever looked for. It was almost reverential and, if it hadn't been Chuuya's digits he was holding, it would've been almost too much to see. Since they were, though, it made him just feel all warm and fuzzy and weirdly contented.
Dazai cocked an eyebrow.
“You sure this is not a fake number to get rid of me?”
“You know where I work.”
“Maybe you'll quit and run away. They say Mexico is lovely this time of the year.”
“Well, only one way to find out, right?” and smirked at him before walking away. He could feel Dazai's eyes on him the entire way to his spot, and he mentally rejoiced he had worn his favourite jeans that day, the ones that made his ass look great.
“Why do I have the feeling you'll be the death of me?” he heard Dazai ask to no one in particular. He didn't acknowledge the words and went back to work.
The groan the other let out, followed by a suspicious slam on something heavy (and probably head-shaped) impacting with the table, gave Chuuya an extra sprint on his steps the entire day.
2.
The idiot was late.
Chuuya leaned back against the boot and chewed on his lower lip.
It was probably silly to be nervous when you were on a date with you literal soulmate, he supposed, but maybe it had been a cosmic mistake. Maybe, whatever force controlled this soulmates business had gotten it wrong, and Dazai wasn't meant for him, after all. Maybe Dazai, the borderline genius, had realised it but didn't have the galls to tell Chuuya, and he had decided to stand him up and probably ghost him, hoping he'd get the message, and-
He slapped his cheeks, repeatedly, and shook his head: he was being completely ridiculous, and he knew that. Dazai had texted him the moment he had had to leave his coffee shop, and the stream of conversation between them hadn't stopped since.
And then Chuuya had decided to actually call him, and he was pretty positive the idiot had almost broken his neck to get out of the shower he was taking to not miss it. He hadn't said as much, but Chuuya wasn't stupid, and the noise of the shower running in the background and the strain in his voice were dead giveaways.
Aside from being a little out of breath, Dazai had sounded elated to properly speak with him again.
It probably should've been too much coming from somebody he barely knew, the way this guy seemed completely rapt by Chuuya and everything he brought with himself. But Chuuya couldn't help the way it made him feel happy and kind of jittery all the time instead.
He started to get why finding one' soulmate made a person completely lose their marbles and their ability to focus on anything else for the longest time. Maybe he'd been too harsh in judging people in the past.
Or maybe he had always been a total sap and had masked it very well over the years. Who knew?
Still, even if that one phone call – that Chuuya had started on impulse, an irrational need to hear the other's voice again – had begun a bit awkwardly, it ended up lasting for hours, until Chuuya had fallen asleep at almost midnight with the phone glued to his ear.
Dazai, he had discovered after the ice had been broken, was one smooth talker.
After the first few, overexcited moments, he had started telling him about his day, and how he was getting ready for the Bar, and how he had had Ranpo promise he wouldn't tell Yosano who his soulmate was before they could let Kouyou know. Apparently, Ranpo had to be heavily bribed with sweet and crisps and even more junk food, because he was leveraging his being Yosano's adoptive brother as the reason why that would be so, so difficult for him.
The world was really so fucking small, he had thought. Fucking hell.
He had thanked him anyway and, after Dazai had told him it wasn't a big deal at all, he had called him out.
“You really want to be there when she finds out, don't you?”
“... Yes.”
“You're one chaotic fucker, aren't you?”
“I worship chaos~” he had easily admitted, and Chuuya could not help the fondness that had filled him up at that.
All in all, for a first call with a stranger, it had been a complete success.
Which was why his worries now were just foolish.
But maybe something had come up. Something more important than Chuuya, and-
“I can hear you thinking something stupid~”
“What the fuck?!”
Chuuya jumped at the voice far too close to his ear, and glared at the idiot behind him. Of course it was Dazai, sparkly eyes and everything else still in place like two days before. Except his smile was kind of apologetic this time around.
“Sorry I'm late. Ranpo tried to do laundry and destroyed what I was supposed to wear today, and I wanted to look presentable and lost track of time, and-” he stopped blabbering and sighed. “Well. I had a bit of a crisis. Yosano helped.”
“With the clothes, or with getting here...” he checked the time. “Half-an-hour late?”
“... A bit of both, I guess.” He smirked, somewhat slyly. “Ranpo did learn a valuable lesson about not putting cashmere in the dryer and, more importantly, not touching my stuff.”
“You sound impressively unbothered.”
“Awww, do you think I'm impressive~?”
“Are you drunk?”
“... Well, I did have a shot of whisky, after trying to strangle my friend, but I promise it was just to calm my nerves. I've an excellent tolerance and I never really get drunk: too many variables that can go wrong when one's intoxicated.”
“Calm your nerves, uh?”
“I was a wreck. For once I had put actual thought on the perfect outfit to make a decent second impression – it was just the right amount of casual and classy, you know? And then, puff! No more!” He sighed and waved his menu around. “I'm a planner, okay? I don't like when somebody else messes my plans up and I need to improvise.”
“You don't say...”
Dazai stuck out his tongue and started reading.
“You're not one, I'm guessing?”
“Nope. Why plan ahead when I can just wing it and live life like an adventure?”
“... Oh god, you're one of them.” He half-joked. “You're going to wake me up at dawn to go on a surprise hike or, I don't know, take sky-diving classes, aren't you?”
“Who knows?” Chuuya said, enjoying the amused (if slightly worried) spark that shone in Dazai's eyes. “I suppose you'll have to find out yourself.”
“Yeah,” Dazai breathed out, and Chuuya felt his foot hooking around his ankle. “Yeah, I suppose I will.”
Their ice-cream date stretched into a movie, and then into a nice walk along the port area until they reached Minato Mirai to window shop until it was late enough for dinner.
Chuuya spent probably too long choosing a new hat in one of his favourite shops, but Dazai seemed happy to just watch him in quiet amusement, quipping in every now and then to give his opinion on this or that shape and style, until Chuuya settled on a black and red fedora.
After that they kept moving along, stopping every now and then to have a look at something, and Chuuya's breath itched when Dazai casually interlaced their fingers together. It wasn't awkward like he had been expecting it to be, and actually made him feel weirdly at ease. He tightened the clasp and let out a breathy laugh, the kind that would usually leave him self-conscious and embarrassed, but that felt right in that moment.
They had their dinner in a secluded, bougie restaurant Dazai knew. It was lovely and quiet, and allowed them to speak to each other without any issues.
They had done that the entire day, words flowing out of their mouths seamlessly, their playful banter never stopping.
Chuuya had enjoyed finding out more about Dazai's life. For instance, like he was an only child, his parents were divorced and he hadn't seen his mum ever since. Apparently, having a parent bail on your family once they had found their soulmate was something they had in common.
“Let me guess,” Dazai stared at him for a long second. “Your dad?”
“Yep,” he shrugged. “Met his while grocery shopping with my mum.”
“Ouch.”
“It wasn't great. But he kept things civil with mum, so he's still in our lives. And I got myself a little brother, so I suppose it could've been worse.”
It wasn't rare that people got married regardless of their soulmates status, since meeting them in the first place was so improbable anyway. Usually it went fine, and couples could still be happy.
Until one of them met their soulmate. Then... Well. Things tended to change.
“I get it,” Dazai told him, nodding his thanks to the waitress that brought them their food. “My mum met hers on the subway and up and left with him for the US two days later. Said she needed a new start, or whatever.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Eh, it's fine. At least she didn't try to fight my dad for me: I would've hated to leave him alone here. So it kind of worked out.”
“Still, it sucks. Do you still talk?”
“Nope,” he popped the P, like it didn't matter to him at all. “Never heard from her since. She really meant the 'new' she talked about. Apparently, her child with her ex-husband ruined the vibe.”
He sounded really nonchalant about it, but Chuuya could clearly hear the bitterness underneath the façade.
He reached out to squeeze the other's hand: Dazai smiled and squeezed back.
“I'm glad your dad is still around,” he told him, his smile turning sweeter and his eyes softer. It would've been very easy for Dazai to envy him, for some resentment to seep into his words and mind. Chuuya wouldn't have blamed him for it, with his family history. But no: he looked so genuinely happy for him that it made Chuuya's heart hurt a bit. He wondered if hugging him would be appropriate. Probably not.
He flexed his fingers, shifted on his seat, and asked Dazai anyway.
“Can I hug you?”
Dazai blinked, surprised, but leaned towards him immediately.
“You don't have to.”
“I know,” he assured him. “I just- I really want to hold you. But it's okay if you'd prefer me not to-”
“I do!” He nodded furiously, his face all up in Chuuya' space, noses almost touching. “I- I mean, I'd like to. Being held. And, you know, hold you back. It sounds- good. Great.”
Their boot was in the farthest, innermost corner of the place, kind of hidden away, so they didn't feel like they were being watched while they scoot closer together, and Chuuya tentatively wrapped his arms around Dazai's frame, tucking his soulmate's head under his chin.
He heard Dazai let out a small, happy sigh against his chest, nuzzling it a bit and closing his arms around Chuuya as well, pulling him even closer than he already was.
They stayed like that for longer than they probably should've, and their food was cold when they finally let each other go.
Chuuya had never been needy, but he wouldn't have minded staying like that until it was time for the restaurant to close and they physically had to leave. Honestly, he wouldn't have minded never letting go at all.
And when he finally kissed Dazai after dinner, the ocean breeze sweeping their hair on the pier and the other's hands cupping Chuuya's cheeks, he wished they'd never had to stop.
3.
Dazai was a man of many, many talents, Chuuya had found out in the weeks since meeting him. He was exceptionally clever, and funny, and he certainly knew how to push all of his buttons easily.
One thing Dazai had no idea of how to do was cooking. Which worked out fine for Chuuya, since he actually enjoyed it, but made him wonder how the guy had survived living on his own until then.
Still, he liked being able to do something nice for the idiot when Dazai spent the night at his place, and usually made him a nice breakfast.
He was slicing some strawberries for garnish when two arms sneaked around his waist, and Dazai's face burrowed into his neck to leave a kiss there.
“'Morning~” he sleepily mumbled against his hair. His body was still warm from sleep on Chuuya's back, and his breath tickled his nape and sent a shiver down his spine, fingers digging into his sides.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” he kissed him again, this time on the juncture of his shoulder, and Chuuya took a steadying breath.
“... If you want any food, you should stop.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
Chuuya had to keep a whimper at bay when the fucker actually nibbled at his neck.
He knew how to push his buttons indeed, the fucking bastard. Chuuya was going to make him pay for it later.
“Shouldn't you still be asleep?”
“It was cold,” he muttered.
“It's June.”
“Without the chibi's crazy body temperature, it still was.”
“Tch, ridiculous.”
“'S not.” Dazai's voice was muffled by his hair when he asked: “What are you making?”
“Crêpes.” He tossed the cut strawberries in a bowl, then offered a piece to the annoying fish on his back. Dazai hummed pleasantly while he chewed, licking his lips afterwards to get all the juice.
“The hat rack is spoiling me.”
“Who said they're for you?”
“Aren't they?”
“... Shut up.” He twisted his nose at the other's cockiness and thick face.
“Eh, chibi cares~”
“I care you haven't had any dinner yesterday!”
He felt Dazai smirk before the started to nibble at his neck again. Chuuya gripped the counter and started thinking of taxes.
“Chuuya was plenty delicious though~”
Chuuya was really close to giving up and shoving his boyfriend against the nearest wall, so he hit Dazai's head with a spatula.
“You need nutrients, goddammit! Behave!”
“But Chuuya is way better than any food~”
“Are you saying my cooking is not good enough for you? Oi!”
The mackerel had the guts to laugh then, his chest so flushed against Chuuya's back that the vibrations spread all over his body.
When the fucker stopped and finally let him go, he leaned against the sink next to him.
Chuuya missed the weight on himself more than he would've liked to admit, but saying anything would've just made the other gloat immensely, and Dazai's ego didn't need any encouragement.
He twisted his mouth, and shot his boyfriend a glare that was really short-lived: Dazai was staring at him with a softness that he never showed to anyone else, the one that made Chuuya's knees weaken and his heart stutter. And that made him want to kiss the idiot to an inch of his life.
Before he could, though, Dazai's head tilted, his hair falling over his eyes like dominoes.
“I love you,” the bastard said, punching the breath out of his lungs.
It wasn't like he hadn't known: Dazai lived and breathed his feelings for Chuuya for everyone to see, making sure to show him everyday just how much he cared. He could see it in every look, and gesture, and word he uttered – even the sharp ones that made him want to punch him in the face.
Made sense that Dazai would be the one to say it out loud first.
“Tch,” he replied, grabbing a fistful of the other's t-shirt and pulling him towards himself. “Figures you'd say it when I'm a mess and covered in flour.”
“You look absolutely delectable anyway~”
“God, you're so annoying....”
And he kissed him, but just to shut him up for a bit, honestly.
And if he did end up shoving him against the nearest wall to show the idiot just how much the love was mutual... Well. Dazai didn't complain at all about that.
And the birthday crêpes, when they actually got down to eat them, were perfectly delicious.
Not as much as Dazai, though.
4.
“If I had known just how much junk you had collected over the years, I'm not sure I'd have offered you my help,” Yosano told him, dropping some more of Dazai's books into the box in front of her.
Still deep into cataloguing his CDs, Chuuya's boyfriend barely acknowledged her words; she twisted her nose, but otherwise didn't seem bothered by it. Chuuya, still not completely used to the weird kind of relationship that Dazai had with his friends, wisely decided to not comment.
“You could at least help us out,” Kunikida told him from inside the bedroom, where he was taking care of organizing the last of Dazai's clothes. The guy hummed and put another CD in the 'keep' pile.
“You as well,” Yosano glared at Ranpo, who was watching them work from where he was perched on his own soulmate's lap. Poe – that was his name, an American that had happily moved all the way to Japan to be with him – just hugged the other's waist more and pouted.
“Sorry,” Ranpo answered, not sounding sorry at all. “He gets antsy when I do manual labour.” And he ruffled the other's hair, making Poe smile happily. Chuuya half-expected the man to actually start purring at any moment. “So I'm supervising.”
“... What the actual-”
“Oi!” He finally interrupted them. Only Dazai kept his focus, while the others turned to him. “Less yapping, more packing. I want to get everything to my apartment by tonight, and we need to give Dazai's keys back in the morning. So get busy.”
“Bossy...”
“Oh, you have no idea...” Dazai supplied, with a dreamy sigh. “Like, yesterday night he actually pushed me down and started to-”
“Okay!” Yosano shouted, getting up and moving towards the exit. “This is my cue to go on a coffee run!”
“Tea for me, please!” Dazai asked with the kind of cheeky grin that he only had when he had gotten what he wanted out of an interaction. Asshole.
“Yeah, yeah,” she rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse. “Be back in a few.”
“Is Kouyou still downstairs?”
“Yep,” she said, with a fond sigh. “She doesn't trust the movers to do a decent job and is supervising them...”
“Bossiness runs in the family, I see.” Ranpo noisily slurped on his lollipop.
“Keep quiet you.” They stuck their tongues out at each others, then she tched. “Okay, see you in a bit, losers.”
“Remember my tea!”
“I've got it! Geez, good luck putting up with that all the time, now, Chuuya.” She mumbled, and left before anyone could say anything else back.
“Why is she talking like she hasn't lived with you for years before she moved in with my sister?”
“Oh, she just has complicate feelings about this house not being any of us' anymore,” Dazai put the CDs he was keeping in a box, closed and labelled it. “She's not in her best mood. Just ignore her.”
“Plus, you know, we don't want to know anything about your sex life,” Ranpo helpfully added. “Like, at all.”
“Prudes.”
“Call us whatever you want. Just don't ever try to sneak that in our conversations ever again, please.”
“I agree with them,” Odasaku came in and grabbed another box to bring downstairs. “Please, stop that. It's unsettling.”
“You guys are no fun at all!” Dazai protested, draping himself over Chuuya's back and whining. “Chuuya! Everybody is mistreating me!”
“As they should.”
A gasp. Loud and right against his ears.
“How could you say that!”
“It's okay,” Chuuya patted his cheek, making sure it felt as condescending as it could. “I'm still keeping you, even though you're annoying as hell and keep trying to traumatise our friends.”
“... So kind of you.”
“I know. Not shut up and pick up one of your fucking boxes, we're running late.”
That night, they fell on their back on Chuuya's- their bed, muscles aching for all the exercise they had done to move Dazai into Chuuya's- their place.
It was probably going to take a few days for the realisation that they were actually living together to properly set in.
Felt so fucking weird, really.
“So,” that menace of his boyfriend said, rolling on his side to wrap him in his arms. “Can I start being all sappy and calling you anata, now that we live together?”
“Tch, you've being doing that since our first date.”
“But now I can do it in front of others as well~”
“You've been doing that as well the entire time.”
“I just really like it when Chuuya gets all flustered just to push me against the first surface he finds as soon as we're alone~”
“Fucking hell, you're such a menace-”
“It's endearing. And hot.” He smirked at the way Chuuya glared daggers at him, and lightly tapped his chest. “A-na-ta~”
His soulmates was a fucking, teasing asshole.
And Chuuya (happily) gave in every. Single. Time.
He rolled them over, trapping the other in place with his legs and kissing him, enjoying the little noises Dazai let out in response.
And the very disappointed one when Chuuya moved his face away from his to look down at Dazai's pout.
“Well, this definitely won't do,” he hooked his leg around Chuuya's middle and pulled him closer. “What's on your mind that can distract you from this? And with 'this', I mean 'me'.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Self-centred as always, I see.”
“Yes.”
Chuuya snorted and leaned down to kiss him again.
“Just- Welcome home, stupid mackerel,” he muttered against his lips, feeling Dazai's tilt upwards.
“It's good to be home, hat rack.”
Asshole.
But it was fine. Chuuya was still definitely keeping him.
5.
“You really... are... way more sadistic than-” A loud huff. “Than people make you... out to... be.”
The last word was almost swallowed by Dazai's heaving, making it borderline impossible for Chuuya to understand him.
He stopped and turned around, watching his boyfriend slowly dragging himself over the rise, one hand on his side for support.
“Tch, it was your idea to go hiking today,” he laughed and inhaled deeply. “Fuck, the air is so clean here.”
From where he had stopped, Dazai waved his hand, his lungs still trying to recover.
Chuuya snorted, but dropped his backpack on the ground and went over to help him up.
“Com'on,” he tried, in his most encouraging voice. “We're almost there. Then we can have a nice soak in the springs before lunch and you can have a nap afterwards.”
Dazai nodded and accepted Chuuya' shoulder when he offered it.
“I'll never get why people enjoy this,” he muttered, and let Chuuya pick his bag up. “My entire body is in flames.”
“That's because your muscles are actually working out, for once in your life,” he sighed and dropped a consoling kiss on Dazai's temple. “I don't understand why you insisted to go on a hike, honestly. And on this path. It's not for first timers, you know?”
“The onsen at the end of it is supposedly very lovely and secluded,” he answered, and sniffed a bit.
“And it's worth you almost collapsing on the way there?”
“Hopefully,” he mumbled, forehead creasing. “If it's not, I swear I'm suing.”
“So dramatic.”
“Tell that to the lung I'm sure I've lost along the way,” he absent-mindedly rubbed his chest.
Chuuya chuckled and tried to support more of the other's weight.
“Com'on, wimp.”
About half-an-hour later, they finally reached the hotel they were going to spend the night at. Chuuya was almost sure Dazai had gotten actual tears in his eyes at the sight.
The place was nice, small and a bit old-fashioned, but clean and Chuuya actually liked the retro vibe it had.
They were showed to their room fairly quickly, and the only reason Dazai didn't fall face first onto their bed straight away was because he knew Chuuya would've freaked with how sweaty and disgusting they both were. So they both showered and dipped into the steaming pools instead. There were (surprisingly) the only ones there, and Chuuya found that incredibly suspicious.
“Are you sure this place is legit, right?” he asked. After being together for almost three years, he knew Dazai's level of nit-picking and planning wouldn't let him settle for anything sketchy, but it did seem too good to be true.
“Yes,” he reassured him, with a satisfied sigh when his body actually submerged into the water. He leaned his back onto the edge of the onsen, eyes closed and face serene. “It's a very respected establishment. We just arrived during a very quiet, probably off-peak weekend.”
Chuuya hummed to himself, only somewhat placated.
The time they spent enjoying the onsen did help to quiet his doubts, though, and soon he felt completely relaxed and utterly content, his head ending up on Dazai's chest and the mackerel's arm secure around his torso to keep him close.
All in all, definitely not the worst idea ever.
The summer breeze was cool and lovely on Chuuya' skin that night, the sky impossibly filled with stars. He had grown up in the countryside before moving to Yokohama, and he sorely missed that, the city lights making it impossible to really see the night sky.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Dazai approached him, leaning over the side of the little, ornamental bridge they were standing on.
“Nothing,” he answered. “Just enjoying the peace. How're you faring?”
Dazai whined and rubbed his arms.
“Terribly. Everything hurts. How are you okay?”
“It's called going to the gym. You should try.”
“Tch. No, thank you. I'll leave that to you. Psycho.”
“Wimp.”
“The sky is beautiful.”
“Yeah,” he looked up again, taking a breath in, eyes half-closed and a warm feeling of contentment sitting snugly in his chest. “I haven't felt this good in a while. Thank you for taking me here.”
He watched Dazai shrug out of the corner of his eye, like he hadn't done much at all, even though they both knew it wasn't true.
Getting his degree had not been as stressing as trying to find his footing in the literary world. At uni, he had been full of talent. In the outside world, Chuuya was one of the many, many, many equally talented people that were fighting tooth and nail to break into the market and get published.
He had held on to his barista job: Dazai had offered to support him while he tried to find himself an agent and a publisher, what he made as a lawyer more than enough for them both, but Chuuya liked his independence too much to accept that. Plus, he enjoyed it. But he could not avoid to still feel the pressure, the disappointment swelling in his stomach, telling him how much of a failure he was, how much of a let-down he was to still be so far from reaching his goal. He'd get there one day, he was sure of that. He just wished that day was yesterday.
“So Chuuya likes this place?”
“I love it,” he confirmed. “We should come back again.” He looked the mackerel up and down with a smirk. “Even though you need to train more if we do.”
“... I've said it once and I'm saying it again: you're never getting me to set foot in a gym. Ever. It'd be cruel and painful, and I don't like either of those.”
“What a baby.”
Dazai didn't replied to that, which only confirmed Chuuya's words, but he was far too happy to point that out.
He sighed: maybe it was a good moment, he considered. The place was beautiful, the night cool and clear. He wasn't sure how many other places could be as perfect as this, and-
“I actually have an ulterior motive to be here,” Dazai mumbled, reclaiming Chuuya's attention. He blinked a few times to help re-focusing on the present, and turned to ask Dazai what he meant, and-
The words died in his throat when he saw Dazai on one knee beside him, a little blue box in his hands.
“... You've got to be shitting me.”
Dazai winced a bit at that, eyes suddenly worried, and Chuuya realised he had fucked up.
“Shit! No! I'm sorry! I-” he groaned and quickly retrieved his own box from his yukata' sleeve, before dropping on one knee as well.
He took a deep breath and weakly smiled at his boyfriend, who was trying – and failing – to keep in a laugh.
“Chuuya is a copy-cat, uh?”
“Shut up, damn it! I was literally about to ask you as well!”
“And still, I got there first~”
“Barely!” He scoffed. “I've been taking this thing with me for, like, four months, waiting for the right moment, and yet-!”
“And you decided that asking me on a trip I've meticulously planned in order to properly ask you to marry me was the way to go, uh?”
“How could I have known?!”
“I have been pretty sneaky,” Dazai proudly conceded, and honestly, had he not been fucking beaming like it was living the best moment of his life, Chuuya would've bitten him out of spite.
Things standing as they were, thought, he didn't. Because he could be nice.
“I've only been planning this proposal over the last month,” he admitted, his eyes softening but never losing that twinkling that only seemed to have around Chuuya. “So we could say it's a tie, this time.”
“Only a month?”
“Well, you weren't going to want to get married before you graduated anyway, and you needed some time to breathe after that, so...”
If the reasoning hadn't been that spot on, Chuuya would've clicked his tongue at him.
It figured that, even with Dazai's obsession for planning and Chuuya's allergy to it, they'd still end up choosing the exact same moment to propose to each others.
“I should've guessed the moment I saw how empty this place was.”
“That was the hardest part to pull off, I have to admit.”
They were both so fucking lame.
“Well,” he rolled his shoulders and looked at Dazai straight on. “Shall we, then?”
“Count of three?”
“Sure.”
They both asked at two.
+1.
Far from being the sentimental type, Dazai had always had a soft spot for the concept of soulmates.
If he had to explain why, he would probably look back to when his mother left for hers without looking back once. He should've probably started to hate anything that reminded him of the mere idea of soulmates but, surprisingly, it kind of went the opposite way: the idea of someone that would never leave him, never abandon him for something better, something more than he was, was too enticing to ignore. He didn't care how statistically unlikely it was, how little chances he had to one day find them, Dazai still wished, and hoped, and set on to meet as many new people as he could all the time. Even if it went against what his temperament would suggest, leaving the comfort of his home and his blanket behind. Thank god he had sociable friends that helped with that.
It had been, at times, tiring and frustrating, especially when his friends started to find their own soulmates. He had been happy for them, sure, but a little part of him couldn't avoid the envy that surfaced every time one of them got what he had wanted and worked for all of his life. And they weren't even trying.
His mind filled with shame every time it happened, even though they were so understanding and tactful around the topic. Especially because of that.
He had been so close to losing hope. Giving up, disappointment after disappointment grating on his mind all the time, the horrible feeling of not being enough, not being worth of the happiness he had seen written all over his friends' faces sitting heavy on his mind all the time.
It worried the people in his life. It worried his father, his friends. They worried about this obsession of his, how his smile was so hard to come by lately, how his outings had almost completely stopped. He knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Life was grey, and meaningless, and the idea of meeting new people and getting disappointed all over again hurt.
That day, he wasn't supposed to join Odasaku and Ranpo. He was supposed to stay home and study for his Bar, the only thing that was able to distract him lately. He didn't even know why he had said yes to Ranpo's last minute invite: he had just thought a bit of fresh air would maybe get rid of the headache he was starting to get.
In the end, it kind of did.
He had looked and looked for this for so long, and finally he had found him: his world had stopped, shifted, refocused on an exact point, and that point had been Chuuya. The sounds were clearer, the colours brighter, the world kinder. He couldn't have turned his smitten, completely unmotivated smile off if he had tried.
Meeting Chuuya had been nothing like he would've expected and everything he had hoped it'd be at the same time. He was funny, clever, kind. He was brass, and loud, and so passionate about life and the things he loved. So protective of his people, so warm all the time, so comforting in the way he enveloped Dazai in his arms and didn't let go for the longest time whenever he hugged him. So stubborn, so defiant, so full of fire, so bright and blinding. Dazai didn't think he'd ever be able to stop looking at him anyway.
Plus, Dazai's head fit perfectly under his chin, which couldn't be accidental and made everything that much more perfect.
Meeting Chuuya had been fate; falling for him had been coming home.
“Dazai?” Odasaku called him from the door, Ango, Ranpo and Yosano right behind him. Dazai shook his head and looked at his friends through the mirror.
“Yes?”
“It's almost time. Are you ready?”
“Yep,” he fidgeted a but with his tie, mumbling curses until Odasaku snorted, approached him and fixed it for him. “Thank you.”
“Nervous?”
“Yes.”
“Cold feet?”
Dazai chuckled.
“Yeah, sure. You couldn't keep me out of that room if you chained me to the wall.”
“That's the spirit!”
“It's the good kind of nerves,” he kept going, like the words just had to get out, like a flood breaking out of the bank. “I promise. I can't wait, you know? I just want to be married to him so badly, I-”
“I know,” Odasaku patted his cheek, and Dazai felt impossibly young at that, but the gentleness in his friend's gesture made his jitters still, the warmth he was feeling inside soar and fill his entire body.
His friends had been there through the worst days of his life. They had shared his pain, his hopelessness. Having them here now, a new beginning that wasn't really new, meant more than he could ever explain to any of them.
“Com'on,” Odasaku wrapped his shoulders in a side hug and stared in front of them. “Let's go get you married.”
Chuuya was already waiting for him in front of the doors they were going to enter together. His friends left them alone, Odasaku quickly made for his spot as the best man in the front, and the music started to play.
Chuuya squeezed his hand and flashed him a smile.
“Ready, stupid mackerel?”
“Bring it on, hat rack.”
It was the first day of the rest of their lives. Dazai couldn't wait to live it.