Work Text:
Nights are always safer.
İt just happends to be not physical.
When the sun say farewell to the heaven, the veil of the moon alights on the truth so faint that only those who wish to see can see it, yet heavy enough to hide from those who look away. The shadows hides the hearts true melodies. The stars isn't as cruel as the sun. Midnights are more secretive than afternoons. They're hushed; leisurely rippling like grieving a secret that can't be spoken, the gleams of the water's surface respects this dark sea's momentary peace.
Nights are the time, to hear the melody of fragile confessions of weaknesses.
Because only in twilights that guns pointed at hearts go down.
.
.
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The squeak of the motel room's peeling door silenced the bandaged boy's footsteps. The boy walked inside slowly and sat sprawled out on the edge of the bed. His feet were slightly off the ground. Behind him, his red-haired partner limped into the room and closed the door, locking it cautiously.
"We couldn't rent separate rooms, and also there's only one bed..." The boy whined petulantly as he spread out on the bed. The redhead clicked his tongue at this. Great! It's starting...
"Be grateful that we were able to found a motel that would take us," he replied. The boy turned his head to that too.
"Like being a terrible speaker wasn't enough, you made me carry you."
"I'm wounded, the fuck you want me to do?"
"And a terrible ability user, is there anything you're good at?"
“If you don’t shut up I’ll show you-” He was cut off by a sudden pain in his ribcage. He leaned against the door and took a shaky breath. Fuck.
The boy fell silent with that. Shrugging, he took off his coat, put it on the nightstand next to him, and informed his boss. But he locked his phone after that, ignoring the messages and calls that came after it. Mori could live without him for one night.
The redhead limped back to the bed and sat down on the other side, his feet off the floor. The bed was high, and most of the box springs were clearly rusted. The sheets were smelling sour, as if they had been washed fake. But it was better than lying on cardboard in the back alleys injured.
After both of them stayed in a bit emptiness, the bandaged one broke the silence.
"Chuuya was terrible, he ruined my plan and got injured on top of it." He pursed his lips and folded his arms exaggerated.
The redhead didn't respond, instead he rolled his eyes, carefully layed down and turned away.
"I'm tired, Dazai. Shut up." His voice was low.
"Chuuya is an idiot."
The redhead sighed as he placed his hat on the nightstand. His entire body was aching. The bandaged one looked at him.
"Chuuya could have died."
"Would you care?"
...
Word remained hanging.
It was said so simply, so easy, so normal. Chuuya didn't see it, but Dazai involuntarily grabbed the ends of his bandages and clence it.
"Chuuya is such a heartless dog." He lowered his eyes.
"I'm not your dog." Like a memorized theater line, every answer was almost the same as the other times.
Silence fell again.
The bandaged boy laid down on the bed with a sigh and turned his back to red head. He crossed his arms and pulled his legs up to his chest, as if he is swaddling himself.
There was a weight in the silence. The blanket, the bed, the door, the walls, and the shadows of the two children waited as if there was something that needed to be said.
"I would."
The words fell from his mouth so suddenly that they could hardly be considered as audible. He wasn't sure if he said it consciously. He didn't even know if he had said them out loud or if he had simply admitted them to himself in the coaxing darkness.
Chuuya froze for a moment. His fists clenched the pillow.
"Sleep instead of chatting, we have work to do in the morning," he said with fake anger. He didn't know what else to say.
"Hm..."
Silence.
.
.
.
Chuuya Nakahara wouldn't fall asleep. He would simply, slowly fade away like the sun's rays sinking deep into the water, and his eyes would open like the bubbles of rising water bursting in the morning. But tonight was different. Because whenever he seemed to be drifting off into unconsciousness, he would be distracted by a tug on his jacket, a rocking in the bed, or simply a sigh. Even his aching wounds wasn't bothering him that much.
"Dazai, stop moving your ass already." He grumbled angrily. He was tired and wanted to sleep.
"You're the one who distracting me with your presence." The answer came immediately with another rocking.
"I'm trying to sleep."
"And I'll deal with your snores."
"You little-!" He turned back with a fury, ignoring his wounds. He would wipe that annoying grin off the stupid mackerel's face and sleep tight-
Oh.
He wasn't grinning. On the contrary, his eyebrows were furrowed and his body was curled up as if he wanted to shrink.
"What?" Bandaged dryly grumbled.
Chuuya just stood there. This was not what he expected.
"Oi, you..." He paused.
"I'm fine." Cold and dry. Chuuya knew that tone. Maybe a normal person wouldn't notice, but Chuuya knew. He was his partner after all. But was it his place?
That stopped him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Was it really his place? They were nothing more than partners, after all.
Isn't it?
He clenched his fists. Isn't it? So was it his place? Why did he care? Because he knew? Or because he cared-
Nonsense.
But he was scared. When he saw that bullet coming towards Dazai, he was scared as hell. It wasn't his stubbornness that ruined the plan, it was his fear. But Dazai was even making fun of that!
I can't lose.
He took a deep breath as he sank into the pillow.
I don't want to lose.
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Dazai Osamu would not sleep most nights, he couldn't. He would turn over and over, feeling every little friction, try to understand why he's feeling it. He would spend hours sitting in his thoughts, searching for a meaning. The thoughts would not stop. Life would not stop. It would already be morning as he listens the aimless life babble meaninglessly. He would think until there was no difference between closing his eyes or keeping them open, he couldn't help that.
Now, there was only one thought in his mind. He had miscalculated. He had miscalculated the battle. Chuuya could die. Chuuya could die. Chuuya-
He squeezed his pillow. He wasn't dead, he was here. Everything is under control. Chuuya is here.
He swallowed. His right eye was twitching, why was it twitching? Chuuya is here. Mission accomplished. He's not in the cold.
He turned to face him. Chuuya. Here. Next to him.
He moved slightly closer. It was warm, Chuuya was always so warm. And he was with him. No matter what, he was by his side. With him-
Darkness feels like as if it was closing in on him. If he hadn't miscalculated, Chuuya wouldn't have been hurt. Chuuya could have be gone.
I always lose the things I don't want to lose the most. That's just how things are.
He hugged Chuuya's waist tightly.
.
.
.
The redhead opened his eyes with a gasp.
He got afraid to move. He felt as if the slightest movement could shatter this dream.
"Dazai..?" He asked hesitantly. Was it a dream? Or one of the shits he did to annoy him?
Silence.
"I would care." He felt the warm breath on his back. His cheeks flushed with this unexpectedly soft tone. His heart pounded the way he isn't use to.
"Chuuya should be mine forever."
The bandaged hands held him tighter. Chuuya sensed the tremors.
Nights are the time, to hear the melody of fragile confessions of weaknesses.
Instinctively, he turned to the boy as well. They had hugged before, but not like this. Despite this, he wrapped his legs around him and let him bury his face in his chest. For a moment, he felt embarrassed by how much his heart was pounding, but Dazai just snuggled closer.
"Slug is so warm..." Even though he seemed to mumble incoherently, the redhead understood.
"And so loud." Dazai moved in a little closer, his grip tighter.
"What's loud about me?"
"His heart."
Chuuya's breath caught for the second time. The boy continued anyway.
"Chuuya's heart is so loud, just like him."
Ah fuck, his body was spinning out of control.
But for the first time it didn't hurt.
"Sleep Mackerel," he said simply as he spread the blanket over them. "I'm here."
Dazai closed his eyes. Chuuya's loud heart was silencing his mind. It was warm. He was here. Would death also feel like that? Would it be as warm and comfortable as Chuuya's arms?
"Dazai." He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the redhead. One coffee, the other ocean eyes were shining under the moonlight.His red hair was disheveled, spread out to pillows like embers of fire. Stupid chibi, he was always like this. Like when he uses Corruption, he was breathtakingly beautiful.
"I'm here, sleep."
He forced himself to close his eyes again and leaned against him again.
Chuuya couldn't understand this strange ease in his heart. But having Dazai here, in his arms, alive and well was very, very comforting. He fell asleep feeling his heart beat for the first time.