Work Text:
The balcony attached to Oda's apartment was always his favorite place to write.
Sitting cross-legged in a wire chair, Oda found himself yet again with his standard journal, the one that Ango fondly called an unorganized mess. Additionally, Dazai had always called Oda's habit of writing by hand old-fashioned, and while it may be true, Oda didn't mind. It was a hard habit to break, and one he had no interest in breaking in the first place.
It was hot out, 28 degrees Celsius with a gentle breeze. The sound of the city filled Oda's ears, serving as the perfect white noise to keep his thoughts from wandering too far from his work. Today's writing topic: a man sitting on a balcony, writing a story about sitting on a balcony. The story wasn't meant to be much more than an exercise, but Oda found himself smiling at the subject matter. The scene was rather mundane, capturing the simplicity and calmness of life at times.
A spider crawled up the side of the railing, Oda bringing his focus to that. Perhaps he would include the spider in his story too, just another being, living its life just as he was, and just as the man in the story was. Oda had never been the type to kill bugs; he had stopped Dazai from doing so countless times.
A gust of wind hit, the breeze feeling nice on Oda's skin. The cool breeze was what made sitting out here in this heat so bearable.
He went to take a sip of the glass of water next to him, only to find it was already empty. He made a mental note to get some more when he got to a stopping point in his writing. It would be getting dark soon, anyway, and he would have to move his operation inside so he could actually see what he was doing— one of the downsides to writing by hand.
Oda's ability showed him the early vision of the sliding balcony door opening, pulling him from his writing. He looked up, and sure enough, the door opened just as he saw it.
"You're home early," Oda said in his usual flat tone. He never really meant for his voice to come off with a lack of emotion; it's just how he was. Ango was used to it, Dazai was used to it, and the kids were used to it. It was only an issue when talking to strangers.
"I got done sooner than expected," Ango smiled, making his way to Oda. He leaned in as Ango stepped toward him, Oda giving his fiancé a gentle kiss on the cheek. Ango sat in the chair next to him.
"What are you writing about this time?"
"Exactly what I'm doing right now," Oda explained, looking back at his work. He handed the notebook to Ango, who read it over, taking his time.
"You really do have an eye for writing even the most mundane of things in interesting ways." The compliment meant a lot, coming from Ango. He handed the notebook back to Oda.
"Thanks," Oda said. "I just wrote what came to mind."
Oda met Ango's olive-green eyes, his face illuminated by the soft gold of the sunset, a soft glare of sunlight hitting his glasses. He really was pretty, and as much as Oda tried, he could never capture that beauty in his writing. It was just something you needed to see to understand.
"Will you quit staring at me?" Ango said, an air of fondness in his voice. He turned his head away.
"Maybe." Oda softly smiled. To anyone else, the smile would've looked small and meaningless, but Oda knew that Ango recognized it as one of his real expressions of joy. He was just flat expression-wise, is all.
Ango stood from his seat, brushing off his pants with his hands, and stretched. "I need to change into something more comfortable."
Oda nodded. Ango was still wearing his work suit, after all. Oda had been sitting out here for hours, having changed into his pajamas the moment he got home, as he usually did.
Opening the sliding glass door, Ango stepped back inside. Oda followed him, the sky getting too dark to write much more anyway. He closed the door behind both of them, Ango going to their bedroom to get changed, and Oda making his way to the kitchen to find something for dinner. As he opened the fridge, he saw with his ability that in the next five seconds, he wouldn't be able to find most of the ingredients to make curry—not even the mediocre instant curry. He would need to go shopping tomorrow, it seems. Yes, he had curry for dinner last night—and the night before, but that never stopped him from wanting to make it again. It was his safe food, and Ango seemed to like it well enough. Ango had been working late the past few days, unable to make it home for dinner. Neither of them had been shopping. There must be something here that Oda could make him.
Searching around the kitchen for food, Oda landed on some udon noodles that he had originally bought to eat with curry. Of course, he didn't have the ingredients for the curry he had planned to eat with the udon, but this would have to do. Finding an assortment of leftover vegetables and spices, he got to work, stir-frying everything together. It wasn't the fanciest of meals, but it would be good enough. He made it a little less spicy than he ordinarily would've, then decided to separate it into two, making one significantly spicier than the other.
Oda saw Ango leave the bedroom and walk into the kitchen with his ability, and sure enough, Ango did the same in person. He wore one of Oda's old t-shirts and a simple pair of pajama pants.
"Hey," Oda greeted Ango, briefly looking at him before going back to cooking. The two sat in comfortable silence as Ango sat at the table, checking his laptop for any remaining emails.
Eventually, Oda spoke. "You work too much." It was a sentiment he had repeated time and time again, one Ango never seemed to truly accept, no matter how many times he said he understood.
"Maybe…" Ango said. Oda, having finished making dinner, brought Ango's bowl to him. He closed Ango's laptop without much fanfare—deducing from the reaction he saw in his ability space that Ango would be fine with it— and sat across from him.
Ango rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep the smile from forming on his face. "Thank you for making dinner."
"I just made whatever I could find," Oda said truthfully. The two of them ate in silence for a few minutes before Oda spoke up as he ate. "You do anything else today?"
"Nothing particularly interesting," Ango answered. "I did end up driving Dazai home. I'm worried that if he drives himself, he's going to get in some sort of wreck. He always wears those bandages over his eye—it messes with his depth perception."
It was true—despite being one of the highest-ranking members of the Port Mafia, Dazai had no driver's license. Ordinarily, that wouldn't mean much, considering this was the literal mafia and nothing they do is legal, but Dazai wasn't exactly good at driving either. Oda had been in the car with Dazai driving exactly once, and decided he would never step foot in a car with Dazai at the wheel ever again. Oda and Ango often found themselves going out of their way to drive Dazai places as if they were his personal chauffeurs.
"He say anything interesting?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary."
Oda nodded, continuing to eat. "Anything about wanting to die?"
Ango let out a long sigh.
"I'll take that as a yes?"
"Indeed. I can't say it was anything special, but I do worry about him. I feel a bit out of my element when it comes to this. I hope I'm handling it well."
"It's not your fault how he feels. I wish we could all just leave this place. The mafia isn't good for him. It's not good for any of us."
"It's not that easy," Ango said.
"No, it's not," Oda sighed. "If it were, I'd have left a long time ago. And I'd have taken you and Dazai and the kids with me."
Oda noticed Ango fidgeting with the ring on his left hand—the ring Oda had given him. It was nice to see him wearing it.
When the two of them had finished eating, Ango collected their bowls and hashi and put them in the sink. He would wash them later. Oda stood and poured himself a glass of sake. He was going to ask Ango if he wanted any, and foresaw that Ango was going to say yes, so he instinctively didn't ask anything at all. It was a kind of one-way wordless communication that Oda found himself using rather often—and just as often, it surprised those around him who weren't used to how his ability worked.
He handed a glass to Ango and sat down on the couch, motioning for Ango to sit with him. Ango leaned against Oda, Oda attempting to change his position so Ango could lie on him comfortably. Ango scooted over to him, and as he was about to lie on his chest, a vision showed Ango dropping his glass on him, spilling everywhere, and as Oda tried to stop it, he ended up dropping his own glass on himself.
"Shit…" Oda swore to himself, letting out a small laugh. Thankfully, the sake had only gotten on his shirt. Ango laughed as the two of them stood up. Oda quickly went to their bedroom to change his shirt and found Ango still on the couch when he came back.
"That wasn't very 'Flawless' of you," Ango remarked lightheartedly. Oda nodded in response, pouring himself another glass of sake, carefully setting it on the side table before sitting back on the couch and pulling Ango toward him.
Ango lay on Oda's soft chest as Oda wrapped his arms around him. Ango gently ran his hands along Oda's arm, absentmindedly stimming.
"I never said it was really flawless," Oda explained. "I didn't pick the name."
Ango nodded. Oda foresaw that Ango was about to apologize for his joke, so he started talking again so Ango wouldn't have the chance. What Ango had said was funny; Oda just wanted to use it as a chance to explain the name.
"The skill never really had a name to begin with. I had never thought about giving it one until I learned others had started naming theirs. I, myself, had become known as flawless for my skills in what I did." Oda went quiet for a moment, not wanting to think about what exactly he did to earn his 'flawless' status. Ango knew part of it, of course, Oda had wanted to be honest with him about his past. "Five seconds isn't a particularly long time to react to something. I've still fallen into traps and, of course, knocked things over. I can still mess up and fail. Not really something I'd call 'Flawless.' "
In response, Ango held Oda closer to him. He hadn't meant for the statement to come off as self-deprecating; it was only the truth.
"You're flawless to me…" Ango said softly, taking off his glasses and burying himself in Oda's chest. Oda wasn't sure if he was meant to hear that, but he held his hand out expectantly for Ango to hand him his glasses, which he eventually did, five seconds after Oda held out his hand. Oda placed the glasses on the end table next to his glass.
Placing a soft kiss on Ango's forehead, Oda gave his fiancé a gentle squeeze.
"You're cheesy today," Oda said in jest.
"Maybe I am…" Ango said, his voice slightly muffled. Oda gently rubbed his back. It was only now that he realized Ango must be exhausted from working so many late nights in a row. Now was one of his only breaks from that work.
Oda decided to stay quiet as he let Ango drift off to sleep.