Work Text:
It was a Sunday night. The unusually cold night bothered Chuuya, who sank into the blankets of his bed, trying in vain to escape the freezing climate that was his apartment. Something random was playing on the TV in the room, the background noise lulling Chuuya like an old lullaby.
And just as the man was about to close his eyes to sleep, someone knocked on his apartment door.
Hell.
Chuuya stood up in exasperation, kicking off the blankets and cursing under his breath. He wasn't expecting anyone, and it was late at night. Who was the clueless son of a bitch knocking on his door?
Nakahara opens the door and is faced with a head of brown hair and bandages.
Speaking of clueless son of a bitch.
– Dazai?! – Chuuya shouted, with an expression of disdain for the man mixed with irritation at being woken from his near-sleep.
But when the redhead stopped to look at the expression on Dazai's face, something stirred inside him. The usual ironic and irritating smile that normally adorned the taller man's face was absent, his shoulders were slumped and the lifelessness in the man's gaze made Chuuya want to shake him by the shoulders.
– Chuuya. – Dazai said, in a low and harsh tone that if the other were further away, it would be impossible to hear.
Chuuya, even though he was moved by the abnormality of the situation, continued with his pose.
– What the fuck are you doing in my house? Don't you know what time it is, damn it? – He was inclined to close the door in the other's face if he didn't get a satisfactory answer.
– We need to talk.
– You idiot, it's late! Tomorrow you can tell me about this highly important matter.
Just as he was about to close the door, a hand grabbed it. If Chuuya wasn't still groggy from sleep, he would have already exploded and cursed and kicked Dazai out.
– Chuuya, please – Nakahara's eyes widened. Since when did Dazai have any manners, especially with Chuuya?
The redhead slowly opened the door again, stepping aside for the other to enter.
– It better be quick.
– Sure, sure – Dazai replied, unconcerned. He walked over to the sofa and sat down with his arms thrown over the back.
– At ease? – Chuuya spoke ironically between clenched teeth, but no ironic smile formed on the other's face. With that he sat down, crossing his legs and waiting for Dazai's Super Hyper Mega Important Matter that made him come in the middle of the night to his house.
Dazai cleared his throat and began to speak.
– You have to promise you won't kill me.
– I can't promise that. – Chuuya replied with his arms crossed, indignation written all over his face.
Osamu gave a humorless laugh and began to play with a loose end of one of the bandages on his wrist.
– I'm leaving the Mafia.
Chuuya swears he heard wrong. He swears his ears betrayed him. There was no way he could have actually said that. The redhead leaned forward and asked the other to repeat.
– You heard right. I'm leaving the Mafia.
Nakahara's eyes widened, shock taking hold of him for the second time that night. He felt his heart sink.
A moment of silence that felt like an eternity fell over the room. Dazai continued to look down, absently fiddling with the loose end on his wrist while Chuuya stared blankly at the floor.
– Why? – Chuuya’s voice was a little louder than a whisper, his eyes still fixed on the ground.
Dazai laid his head back against the headrest, sighing audibly and changing position, now with his legs crossed. But no answer came. And while this worried Chuuya, it also irritated him a little. He took a deep breath and decided that being exasperated would lead to nothing.
– Aren't you going to talk? – Nakahara glanced at him from the corner of his eye and saw Dazai shake his head, his eyes fixed on a specific small mold on the ceiling.
Chuuya sighed and stood up, going to where Dazai was sitting and sat next to him without saying a word. Some time passed and he felt a light touch on his shoulder and a caress began in the region, but Dazai still didn't look at him, it was almost as if the movement was involuntary, activated only by Chuuya's proximity.
Chuuya heard a sigh from the man beside him and Dazai's low voice began to speak.
– I want to become a better person, Chuu. I no longer want people to die by my hands, but to live by them.
Chuuya looked at the other, shocked. Dazai's gaze was lost somewhere in front of him and he could almost hear the other's head working. And he was startled by how sincere the other sounded when he said those words. He sounded human . Humanity was never an easy subject for Osamu, he constantly told both himself and others that he had failed at the task of being a human being. Chuuya had to contradict him several times. When they were hugging, Nakahara would often say things like "I love the way your heart beats" or "I love the pattern of your breathing". They were strange things to say, but he knew they helped Dazai feel more alive.
Chuuya just nodded slowly, digesting the information.
– You shouldn't be saying this to me – Chuuya said, his voice low, whispering to the other.
– I know, – Dazai whispered back. Now looking at Nakahara. He brushed a red lock of hair away from the other’s face. – But I trust you.
Trust. It was hard to have someone to trust in the place they work, in the circumstances they live in. And yet, Chuuya trusts Dazai and vice versa. Small pieces of moments that form an entire story of trust. Every time Chuuya uses Corruption. When Dazai falls asleep on his lap. When Chuuya lets himself become weak and unconscious around the other. When Dazai loses his bandages. And now Dazai was trusting him to keep a secret of such importance, that if even one thing escapes, Dazai will be killed.
Dazai once asked him: Is trustfulness a sin?
Chuuya leaned towards the other, lightly resting his head on Osamu's shoulder and let out a long sigh. Dazai hugged him tighter.
– I'll keep in touch – He began in a whisper – I'll tell you where I'm staying. I'll send you each address and you can come see me.
It was strange that Osamu was so delicate with his words. They had had delicate moments between them, yes, but never something so...sensitive.
– Promise me…that you’ll take proper care of yourself. Eat every day, take a shower and sleep well.
Dazai didn't respond.
Nakahara knew he was asking too much. Ordinary, everyday things were excruciating and difficult for Osamu to do.
He just sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that night and stood up, pulling Dazai with him to his room.
He sat the other on the bed and began to remove the layers of clothing from the other, stopping when he was left only in boxers and his body covered in bandages. Going to the wardrobe he took out one of Dazai's clothes - He always had some of his clothes stored away - and dressed him calmly, lovingly stroking his hair when he was done.
They both lay on the bed in silence. Chuuya approached the other and hugged him around the torso, feeling arms wrap around him tightly.
Words were not necessary. The future would tell them what to do.