Chapter Text
Dazai has always been infatuated with sea creatures, whether it was the animals, life, or the abundance of the ocean—he’s always been drawn to them—and maybe that’s why his favorite food is canned crab.
Another thing about Dazai is that he’s hopeless in every way possible.
He’s brash yet quiet. He gets attached easily but avoids the moment there’s anything wrong. He’s annoying but charms everyone. He’s neurotic but a procrastinator.
Maybe that’s why he’s only had quick one-week lasting relationships—more like flings girls—they were never interesting to him—so much so that he was labeled as a womanizer at the young age of thirteen.
All of these were just ponderings, though. Assumptions he’s made based on what he’s seen and heard from girls fawning over the brunette like he’s some sort of ancient eye candy.
(Which Chuuya will have to admit, that Dazai is fairly attractive, but you didn’t hear that from him.)
And he only says that because of his speculation that he may have a crush on Dazai Osamu.
Chuuya never envisioned having a… romantic life, not as much as Dazai has in his fifteen years of living on this planet. Chuuya has never had a girlfriend, boyfriend, or any partner of any sort. He’s never willingly dated (unless he was set up.) And he hasn’t held hands with someone other than Dazai.
It had gotten to the point where the pair had gotten dating accusations, but neither of them did anything to deny it.
The closest thing Chuuya has had to a relationship is his friendship with the brunette.
But if he had to choose someone to marry it would be none other than Mr. Womanizer himself.
His best friend.
Who he has definitely not had a crush on for two years.
Perfect timing. Here comes Dazai practically prancing in Chuuya’s direction.
He watched the brunette dance his way over, smiling a bit too innocently for Chuuya’s liking, so either he’s planning something or he’s already done it.
Chuuya watched as Dazai leaped over and slid on the bench he was sitting on—causing him to almost fall off of it.
“Hey! Watch it, asshole!”
Dazai grinned mischievously, everything was a game to the dense idiot, no matter the mood that was in the air. “Chibi is so small! He doesn’t need so much space~”
Chuuya pushed Dazai back, glaring at him while he raised his middle finger. “Jackass.”
The brunette mumbled something under his breath, but he didn’t care to catch what it was. It was probably some half-assed height joke anyway, and Chuuya has heard enough of those.
Dazai figure four clocked his legs while Chuuya manspread his as they gazed at the familiar sight of the meet-up spot.
It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary (which was bizarre, especially for them,) but instead, this place was calm and had a nice view of downtown Yokohama.
They sat on a local bench located on a random patch of grass. You could see the buildings lining down the street with a clear view of the sky and its ever-changing colors. The pair had practically spent their entire lives on this street.
A few blocks down there was a local coffee shop; Cafe Uzumaki. One of Dazai’s self-proclaimed adoptive parents loves the curry there, and Dazai has an unhealthy yet stable relationship with caffeine.
A few buildings down and across the street was the town arcade—it opened the year they were both born—which to Dazai was a sign that the arcade was made for them to terrorize.
The owner of the arcade, Albatross, has always been fond of Chuuya—but wanted to blow Dazai into smithereens—nonetheless, he let the two stay overtime and would tweak the machines so they wouldn’t waste all their money on games.
By the pier, which was by the seaside past all the buildings, was a curry shop run by Oda and his husband, Ango. The store was small, only having enough seating inside to fit eight customers. To make up for the lack of space, Oda set up a nice outdoor seating area fenced by beautiful white wood he forced Dazai and Chuuya to paint one summer for “driving away” his sanity.
Despite there being a lot of business, Odasaku always made sure to save two seats inside for the teens—right on the kitchen counter—the two were there so often that they engraved their names on the wood.
“Property of D. Osamu and N. Chuuya”
(And if that wasn’t cheesy enough, Dazai had jokingly drawn a heart around it. Chuuya beat him shitless, but the laugh they got out of it was worth it.)
Oda and Ango’s curry shop was the only place they would eat if they got hungry, mainly to annoy Sakunosuke.
The sun was going down, making the sky fade from blue to different shades of pink and orange—a light dash of clouds mixed in with the occasional birds chirping.
A few cars passed by here and there, but it was just past traffic time, meaning most people were going home to their loving families and eating dinner.
Their families, however, worked the night shift and were emotionally unavailable, leaving the teens by themselves most nights and early mornings.
For Dazai, this was great, because it meant he got to get away with a lot of shit, and poor Chuuya was dragged into it.
Out of nowhere, Dazai slapped the back of Chuuya’s neck.
“Hey! Watch it you fucking—”
“Ughhh,” Dazai groaned. “Chibi! We’re almost done with our first year!”
“Uh huh…” He responded he could feel this building up to something more.
Dazai let out a chuckle, it was hard to tell if it was genuine or not. “We should do something!”
“No fucking way, asshole,” Chuuya kicked his shin. “Your ideas are fucking horrendous.”
He gasped, placing a hand on his chest as if he was really offended. “What? No way!”
“The last time we did something, we ended up getting banned from the fucking Humane Society .”
“We were setting your kind free!”
“I am not a damn dog!”
Dazai huffed out a pout, whining, and stomping his legs on the soft grass.
“Chibi’s getting boring. Old. Like a real slug.”
“Dazai, for the last time, I am fifty-one days older than you.”
“Yet you radiate elder.” He rolls his eyes. “Chibi! C’mon! It’s almost my birthday~” He teases.
Chuuya scoffs because Dazai is right. It is almost his birthday, in two weeks, to be exact.
For Chuuya’s birthday, Dazai went all out and planned a scavenger hunt that led to the back of the arcade—and Dazai somehow managed to convince Oda and Ango to take off that day so they could cut a cake and sing the most horrendous version of ‘Happy Birthday’ Chuuya had ever heard.
(They tried singing it in English; the only ones who know perfect English are Dazai and Ango.)
To top it all off, Chuuya got well-thought-out gifts, not half-assed ones that his parents just swiped off the shelf.
From Ango, Chuuya got a hoodie from his favorite rock band. His name was even embroidered on the back with the singer's signature! He still has no idea how Ango managed that.
From Oda, Chuuya got a collection of vinyls and a Walkman digital music player. All of the music was from his favorite bands across the globe! Some Chuuya hadn’t even heard of yet!
From Albatross and Pianomann, he got a bright red electric guitar, because Chuuya’s guitar was too damaged to get properly prepared—it was cheaper to buy a new one—and Pianomann is a guitar fanatic.
As for Dazai’s gift, well…
It was noise-cancelling headphones with cushioning on the ears and headband. They were black and sturdy, and you could tell they were expensive. Chuuya had no idea where the brunette had gathered the money for them.
But there was another part of Dazai’s gift that Chuuya really wasn’t expecting.
It was a sleek, black choker, thin enough to where it wouldn’t snap, but not big enough to suffocate him. It was adjustable, so it would fit him as he grew into his figure when he got older and taller.
So, yeah, Chuuya feels the need to out-party Dazai’s surprise birthday party.
But the thing is… no one knows what Dazai likes besides cheap canned crab. The fucker never asks for anything, he doesn’t have a wishlist online—he’s never made a Christmas list or stared at anything longingly at a store.
He hates surprises. He hates crowds. He hates being perceived. There’s so much that Dazai hates or doesn’t like that it’s hard to know what he enjoys.
Chuuya is interrupted by his train of thoughts by Dazai letting out the longest whine ever.
“Slugggggggggg~”
“What?”
“Can we do something? This is boring!”
“We are doing something, we’re sitting on a bench.”
Dazai puffed out his cheeks. Turning to face Chuuya. “I meant something fun! Not sitting on a bench and going bird sighting.”
Chuuya stared back at the brunette, furrowing his eyebrows and pursing his lips. “Fine. What do you have in mind?”
The same ‘I’m going to cause trouble’ grin reappeared on Dazai’s face, looking just as (if not more) mischievous as earlier.
“Follow me, Chibi.”
Chuuya has only been to a handful of stores in his entire life, and that’s because, one, his parents do all the shopping before he can join, and two, he has bad spending habits.
So when Dazai said he wanted to do something fun, he was expecting laser tag, a day terrorizing animals at the zoo, or trying to steal a painting from a museum… again.
But instead, well…
“This is a fucking IKEA,” Chuuya stated, pulling out his phone from his back pocket to search what this place even was.
“Good eye, Chibi! Glad to see your old age hasn’t made you blind~”
Chuuya rolled his eyes, scrolling through the store’s online website and itinerary.
From what Chuuya could see, IKEA specialized in furniture. All of it looked… dead and modern, with little to no personality due to how bland and white everything was.
He went to the drop-down menu section, looked at the tabs listing the items this place offered, and something caught his eye.
Absentmindedly, he tapped on the stuffed animals section.
The first thing that he saw was a big blue shark.
Dazai’s birthday is just around the corner.
This place has a stuffed shark.
The stars were aligning.
Chuuya shoved his phone into his pocket before Dazai could even think about peeking over.
“So what do you want to do here?” Chuuya asked, staring at the bright yellow IKEA sign written in English.
“We’re going to play eye-spy!”
Chuuya stared at Dazai, unamused. “What the fuck are we? In grade school?”
“You sure look like you could be— Ow! Nakahara Chuuya!”
The redhead had jabbed the side of Dazai’s abdomen, he got surgery there when he was six years old so the spot was sensitive enough to cause him pain and Dazai hates pain.
“That’s what you get,” he snickered.
“I’m telling!”
“My parents would not give a crap, if anything, they would say you deserved it.”
Dazai puffed out his cheeks, “I’m going to have Oda stop serving you the spicy curry~” He pulled out his phone, knowing he had the man speed dial, giving Chuuya a look of maliciousness.
Damn it, Dazai. The teen mentally punched himself.
For some odd, foreign, and stupid reason—Chuuya can’t believes he finds this fucker cute in any way possible.
But that dumb-looking pout he does…
It’s almost enough to make Chuuya want to be direct with his answer, but the stubborn idiot would know something’s off, and Chuuya sucks at verbally lying especially in front of ‘Dazai the know it all.’
So instead, he rolls his eyes and sighs in irritation. “All right, bastard, you can win this time.” He says only to push the conversation and adventure into the store along.
Chuuya doesn’t know how Swedish people run their shop, but judging from the sheer size of this place—the two would probably get locked in if they weren’t out by closing time.
It was nearing 6 PM, and if he just complied with whatever the neurotic Mackerel had in store, they should be out before ten.
Hopefully, they would pass by one of those stupid sharks.
And hopefully, Dazai isn’t aware of its existence.
“Chibi!” Dazai swings over and grabs Chuuya’s arm, taking it as if they’re royalty. “Let’s march!”
Dazai uses his other hand to point up at the sky—it’s more of dusk than it was earlier—but the sky fades away as they enter through the automatic doors and step foot on the white linoleum floor.
Immediately, they are greeted by harsh bright lights coming from the ceiling. The open space is vast—most likely to prevent traffic jams of people piling up.
For it being a Tuesday evening, it’s decently packed in here—more people are exiting rather than entering—which for Dazai, is a good thing, considering that the fewer people there are, the more mischief he can cause.
Holding tight onto Chuuya’s arm, Mackerel continues his march deeper into the store. Just for a moment, he stops and eyes the shopping carts.
Chuuya stops.
“Hey, idiot,” Chuuya calls, and of course, Dazai ignores him.
He knows Dazai heard him. He’s been around the dense moron enough to know most of his tactics. He’s practically got a degree in Dazai-ology.
“Ugh,” the redhead sighs aloud, preparing to sacrifice his ego. “D’you want a shopping cart?” He asks hesitantly.
And as if this was a part of his grand plan, Dazai twirls to face Chuuya with a big smile on his face—pearly whites shining and his two dimples on his cheeks..
“Are you going to push your master around like a good dog?~” He teases.
“You know what? Forget I ever asked.”
Dazai lets out this cute little gasp and it’s almost enough to make Chuuya feel bad for the fucker. Unfortunately, however, he is a small man and he makes up for what he lacks in his ego.
The brunette shakes his head, seemingly forgetting about the situation as he makes silly noises with his mouth (most likely to get the older’s attention.)
(And it’s working.)
Hesitantly, stubbornly, and against all his will—Chuuya finds himself grabbing a shopping cart, flipping Dazai off the whole way there—and then he kicks it at him with full throttle.
The cart is fast, and it crashes into Dazai’s stomach before he has a chance to react.
For a split second, Chuuya thinks he’s fucked up. His… friend toppled on his footing, somehow managing to keep himself standing and afloat.
Chuuya holds his breath because Jesus fucking Christ that happened fast and with much more velocity than he intended.
“Ouch! Chibi, you know I hate pain!” He feigns dramatically, pressing a hand over his forehead to accentuate the theatrics. “Now you have to push me in the cart!”
Chuuya grits his teeth together, sighing in frustration. This idiot.
“Fine, fine,” Chuuya surrenders. “Are you gonna get in or what?”
Dazai turns his head up, letting out a surprised chirp. “Help me in, Slug~ It hurts too much to move by myself!”
The older internally shakes his head. Knowing this dense moron, this whole thing was probably planned. “If you get out, I ain’t helping you back in.”
“Ay-ay, Captain!”
Despite being shorter than Dazai, Chuuya picks him up with ease and chucks him in the cart. The brunette is concerningly underweight—and whether that’s because he needs nothing except curry and canned crab or because his metabolism is traveling at the speed of light—Chuuya will never know.
Once Mackerel is comfortable sitting in the cart, Chuuya begins to push, and the more they venture into the store, the more confused he gets.
Each part of this Swedish oasis looks the same. Everything is separated by sections, big shelves with boxes, or looks too medically sanitized, it gives him the creeps. Arrangements of kitchens, living rooms, bathrooms, you name it, they have it—and the common theme seems to be white. Weird.
Personally, Chuuya has never been a fan of the modern lifestyle. He likes his spaces to be clean, yes, but he also likes them to have personality, not the same aesthetic as social media influencers.
He enjoys warm and colorful lighting—dark woods with contrasting bedding sets—random plants and vines scattered on the windows—and random trinkets hidden in corners and drawers. What he doesn’t like is this simplistic, bland, and boring trend he sees in every interior design magazine.
For a while, it’s just Chuuya mindlessly pushing Dazai around in the cart, and that’s just until he passes one of the stuffed animals he saw on the store’s website page.
The fucking shark.
He was supposed to be looking for that stupid-looking shark.
Quickly, Chuuya surges his eyes throughout the area—analyzing the plays for any suspiciously blue-looking sea creatures that his Mackerel would (maybe) like.
Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you view it) Chuuya sees nothing.
On one hand, that means the search isn’t over.
But on the other hand, it could also mean that they’ve already passed one and Dazai either said nothing or saw it.
“Chuuuuuuuyaaaaaa,” Dazai whines. “You need to find the fun section!”
“...The fun section?” Chuuya says back, confusion basking in his tone.
“The bedroom stuff! It’s much than… kitchen aid mixing bowls,” The brunette points at one of the kitchen appliances.
“D’you know where that even is?” Chuuya retorts.
And to no one’s surprise, Dazai is aggressively nodding his head. “I memorized the mapping of this place when we got here. I thought you’d be able to find it without my help. But I guess that’s too hard of a job for a slug~”
“Why you—!”
“Don’t hit the soon-to-be birthday boy~” Dazai sings, hoping out of the cart with ease. “I’ll lead the way!”
“What about the—”
“Someone else will steal the shopping cart, that’s kind of how stores work, Chibi,” Dazai giggles as he begins marching toward a nearby corner.
“Don’t fucking disappear, asshole!” Chuuya runs to catch up to him, Dazai isn’t that fast, nor is he athletically talented.
Chuuya turns the corner and quickly looks around for anyone suspiciously Mackerel-shaped, and that’s when he sees a familiar mop of brown hair sliding down the escalator.
Oh my fucking God, “Dazai, stop running off!”
Plenty of park course, Dazai-intentional games of hide n go seek and peek-a-boo later, Chuuya manages to catch up to the idiot. (He’s gasping for his last breath.)
“Don’t,” He pants. “Fucking,” He gasps. “Do that again,” He finishes.
“Not my fault Slug is so slow~”
“I literally made the prefectures for our school in track—”
“—That’s not important!” Dazai yips. “Now come on! Let’s march!”
The further they venture into the store, the more quiet and fewer people they see wandering around the store. Dazai is leading them into this very-colorful kids' section before Chuuya spots something’s tail poking out in one of the shelves…
It’s blue.
It’s shark-shaped.
Bingo.
Dazai looks like he has no intention of stopping his march, and Chuuya is pretty fast, so realistically…
He makes the impulsive decision to run to the shelf and push the shark’s tail further into the cupboard, moving one of the boxes to hide it. No one is taking that shark. He will have their head on a pitchfork and hang it on his front door.
He’s quick to return to Dazai, he’s pretty sure his disappearance went undetected.
Where the fuck was Dazai taking him?
“Dazai, where are we going…?” Chuuya asks, gently tapping the brunette’s shoulder.
“Hmm?” He turns his head, looking at Chuuya with innocence and bliss. “You’ll see— Oh, we’re here.”
Dazai turns to an aisle, Chuuya looks up and takes note of the number. Aisle five…
Dazai is tapping the boxes, almost as if he’s checking for how hollow a box is. Like he’s… looking for something.
“Here it is!” He says happily, it sounds… genuine. “Come, Chibi! Come, come!” Dazai slides the box out of the way and… crawls into the shelf.
What the fuck? “Dazai, you can’t do that!” Chuuya yells as he follows Dazai into his probably-against-the-rules tunnel.
Chuuya crouches down and he’s met with a… fort.
“Close the box behind you,” Dazai whispers calmly, and it looks like Dazai is… blushing. Chuuya isn’t sure if it’s from the exercise exertion of their adventures earlier or if it’s a genuine blush.
Confused, Chuuya does as he’s told and enters the soft hideout, closing the makeshift door behind him.
“Dazai, what is—”
Lights.
Above them, there are fairy lights—they are shining in different hues of warm colors; reds, oranges, yellows… and now that there’s lighting in here, Chuuya can see everything else.
Beneath them, there’s a star-patterned comforter, while the walls align with different pillows; flowers, clouds, the sun, and the moon. There are snacks and drinks wedged between each pillow.
Chuuya takes in the scenery before turning to his normally idiotic, nonchalant, and annoying friend who is quickly approaching a shade of beet red.
“When did you have time to…?” Chuuya starts. “Dazai—”
“The Chibi is nice, and Oda said I should be more honest with my feelings, but I think that’s utter bullshit and very uncharacter of me, so I did… this to get you to, uhm, to stay…?” Dazai tilts his head down to obscure his face with his bangs. He’s almost acting… shy.
God fucking dammit, Mackerel.
Chuuya will not let Dazai get scared and run away from this beautifully planned moment that he probably spent days—if not weeks overthinking. Not here. Not today.
“It’s… This is really nice, ‘Samu,” Chuuya compliments, he didn’t realize just how nervous— flustered this would make him as well.
“I—” Dazai stutters. Something he hasn’t done since he was five with a horrible speaking impediment. “Are you sure? You don’t like closed spaces and we could just leave—”
“Osamu.” Chuuya’s voice lows. He almost regrets it, because seeing the brunette this flustered is something Chuuya enjoys.
He likes when Dazai takes off his nonchalant persona—when he’s genuine and kind—not the fake type of charisma he puts on for show, that’s not who Dazai is.
Chuuya has only seen the human side of Dazai a handful of times, probably less, and he fully intends to savor this moment.
Especially because Dazai— his crush of who knows how long—his best friend put so much thought and consideration into this probably illegal den.
“Listen to me,” He says laxly, leaving enough seriousness in his tone for his stupid Mackerel to know that he means every word he says and that he’s not mad. “I love it, okay? I—” I love you.
The words are on the edge of his tongue, all it would take is one last breath, an echo, a gasp, something fueled by the power of Icarus and his disciples. His vocal folds weren’t cooperating and it ached.
It’s instant.
He doesn’t remember how or when he moved his body, but his lips are crashing with Dazai’s and it feels—he feels—he is addicting.
One of his hands ended up caressing the back of Dazai’s head, twiddling with his curls, shielding it from the metal shelves—just so he could kiss Dazai deeper and taste every part of his mouth.
He can taste the cherry-flavored chapstick on Dazai’s lips, and that somehow makes it better. Between his cute little gasps and whines—it’s hard to stop. Chuuya has been thinking about this moment for a long fucking time—he’s fallen asleep just thinking about this day—how it would happen, the buildup, the where. (He was not expecting a fucking IKEA, but Dazai has a weird way of making things memorable.)
He feels bad for forgetting to ask for permission—but with the way Dazai is yearning his tongue with his—that’s all the consent Chuuya needs .
Chuuya presses his forehead against Dazai’s as he catches his breath—he didn’t want to stop— but he doesn’t want his cause of death to be making out in a pillow fort in a foreign Swedish-based store.
Dazai’s lips are red and nearly swollen, something Chuuya did not expect to do because he’s only ever watched people make out, not done it himself.
Fuck…
“Uhm—Sorry,” Chuuya apologizes, even though he doesn’t really mean it—he feels like he should at least say something. “I should’ve given you a warning—”
“I— That’s okay. Chuuya does not need to apologize,” Dazai says, licking his lips—and just seeing Dazai do that almost makes Chuuya go primal again.
“Are you sure? Because I kind of sprung on you like some sort of feral meerkat—”
“Chibi,” Dazai speaks. “I liked it.”
He swallows a lump in his throat. “Y-You did?”
“Slug really is slow,” Dazai shakes his head—essentially mocking Chuuya. “If I didn’t like it, why would I kiss back?
“Peer pressure?” Chuuya guesses.
“Chuuya. I wanted that, okay? I want—” You.
And Chuuya has to take a moment to himself because Dazai has given him so much today, and he’s taken… a lot.
The shark.
“I will be right back, okay? Don’t move.”
He slides the box open, peaking his head into the aisle to make sure there are no workers before he hops out.
It’s a good thing Chuuya does track because he’s never run this fast in his life.
He takes out his phone, making sure he knows where he hid the shark earlier. His shoes are squeaking on the linoleum floor but he doesn’t care because Dazai needs this.
Chuuya doesn’t want to take and take tonight. Not now, not ever. He wants to give Dazai the world.
He finds the shelf from earlier, removes the box, and finds the shark ledged in the darkness right where he pushed it to be. Perfect.
Snatching the shark off of the shelf, he didn’t expect it to be so… long and fat.
He’s quick to make his way back to the Dazai-made flat, remembering the exact aisle and place in the aisle the fort was.
He didn’t even realize how much tension was in his chest because when he opened the fort back up and sees that Dazai hadn’t moved an inch, a weight is lifted.
Nothing is said as Chuuya reenters the fort with a bigger-than-expected shark stuffed animal. But by the way, Dazai’s cheeks are beaming with (somehow) more blush, he’ll take that as a win.
Absentmindedly, Chuuya presses the stuffed shark into Dazai’s arms. He can feel his cheeks heating with rosy tints.
Both of their hearts are racing, so much so that they can feel it in their eardrums. The buildup to this moment, the location, and the anticipation that they could get caught at any time—the kiss. All of it contributed to the intensity of the moment. Where they are right now.
God, they will remember this forever.
Teenage love, as vile and futile as it can be, is precious and delicate at the same time. It’s sappy, it’s cringey, it’s awe-struck and horrendously sickening—but it’s a type of love you can only have in your teenage years.
And, well, you’re only a teenager for six years of your life.
Mistakes will be made, you can face traumas and you can live through them. Vicariously or not.
The innocence, the discovery, and the savoriness that come with young love are like grapes on a vine. There is nothing as bitter as it is sweet.
(Sappiness and cringe are especially prevalent when you’re gay teenage dorks.
“Chibi?” Dazai breaks the silence.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to… lay down?” With me.
Unexpectedly, Chuuya chuckles.
“Hey! What’s so funny?!”
“Is Dazai Osamu asking me to cuddle?” Chuuya’s eyes water, giggling staying in his voice.
“Well, when you put it like that I sound touch starved and desperate—”
“You are the most touch-starved person I know, now…” Chuuya trails off, moving Dazai to the side so he can slide next to him.
“This is cramped.” Dazai comments.
“No shit,” Chuuya responds. “C’mere, lay on me.”
Urgently, Dazai gets up, looks at the redhead, and blinks.
“You did all of that just so I could lay on top of you?”
“If I laid on top of you, one of your ribs would break.” Chuuya finalizes. “Now lay your—y’know what.” Chuuya begrudgingly yanks Dazai’s arm, causing him to lay down on Chuuya—cradling his head to his chest. “There we go.”
Dazai lets out something that sounds like an eek, and Chuuya can feel the heat radiating off the brunette.
“Dazai, relax—”
“It’s—it’s not the position—” Dazai struggles, walking his fingers across Chuuya’s legs.
“Then what is it?” Chuuya asks, carding his fingers through Dazai’s curly locks. They’re softer than he thought they’d be.
Dazai being Dazai, does not communicate the rest of what’s on his mind. He’s stubborn. Protective. Scared of vulnerability.
Chuuya decides not to push it, he doesn’t want to ruin this moment. Not with a stupid question. They say curiosity bit the cat, well curiosity could bite his ass.
The pair stay there for a few minutes in silence, admiring the scene of the lights. Dazai is cuddling the shark Chuuya gave him—clenching it like his life depended on it. He’s cute.
“Mackerel?”
“Mhm?”
“Do you… want to be anything… with me?” Chuuya asks hesitantly, and he isn’t sure if he phrased it right or if he just said it in his head.
“What does Chibi mean?” Dazai sounds so fucking quiet, it’s… there’s no other word to describe it but cute.
“Like—” Chuuya pauses, holding his breath. “What are we? What is… this?”
“...That’s… what I was going to ask you earlier…” Dazai admits. “Didn’t know how to phrase it.”
“Well, do you… do you want—”
“I want Chuuya.” Dazai cuts him off and he sounds so sure, like he knows what he wants.
“Are you… sure?”
“If I wasn’t sure, or didn’t want it. Do you really think I’d go through all the trouble of dragging you here and making a super top-secret fortress? I want you, Chuuya. Do… Do you—”
“Yes. Oh my fucking God, I want you.” Chuuya almost cries. “More than anything.”
“More than anything?” Dazai asks because the idiot needs constant reassurance and clarification. “I’m weird and—”
“I don’t care how weird you are; I want you, Dazai,” Chuuya is firm but gentle. Loving yet serious.
“Would you love me if I was a worm—?”
“ — Yes. God, I would love you even if you were a grain of sand.”
[Can we get someone to check on aisle five in the children’s bedding area, please? Can we get—]
“We gotta run.”
“Yup!”
Dazai drags Chuuya through an emergency exit in a stairwell, the sprinklers go off as they escape using the stairs in a fritz. They can hear security guards checking the surrounding area—footsteps stomping,
They crash through a door, and the brunette is dragging Chuuya by his entire arm until they reach a bench by a random tree, and that’s when Chuuya sees a familiar-looking car.
“Is that—?”
“Our getaway driver? Yup!” Dazai chirps as they both crash into the motorized vehicle. Dazai pulls the door open and throws himself in, taking Chuuya with him.
“Go, go, go, go! Drive, drive, drive, drive!” Dazai yells, pointing his hand up to the ceiling in victory.
Ango, who they didn’t know was in the passenger's seat, turns to look at this both with a face of absolute horror.
“What did you guys do?”
Chuuya and Dazai look at each other and burst into laughter. They’re holding hands in the middle seat as they both scoot closer to each other.
Nope, they definitely did not run away from security in an IKEA.
Ango, furious, turns to look at his husband, who sucks at lying and keeping secrets. “Did you play a part in this?”
“I was given explicit instructions to not say anything,” Oda looks in the rearview mirror at Dazai, winking at him, and Dazai mouths him a genuine thank you.
“I— We’re talking about this later,” Ango drops the subject, paying attention to his view of the city.
Dazai looks up at Chuuya, cheeks flushed and an authentic smile on his face—two dimples poking out and all.
Chuuya quickly pecks Dazai’s lips, then presses a soft kiss against his forehead.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you more, Chibi.”
And they really did love each other so much and so more as the years flew past.