Work Text:
Dazai wasn't one to deal with his emotions well.
He always ended up going back to his old coping mechanisms, which earned him a small scolding from his dearest partner—God, he could care less. The slight adrenaline running through him cut after cut was enough to make him go until he knew he went too far. It was the slight rush that came with it, the thrill that numbed the struggles he actually faced despite hiding it from everyone, even from himself.
Blade on the floor, blood on the floor and there the boy sat—slumped against the wall and closing his eyes, his wrist bleeding from his previous self-inflicted injuries, bandages dropped onto the cold floor as his breath hitched ever so slightly, it was colder than usual tonight. Maybe it was just because of the air hitting his wounds that made it seem so cold that made his hairs stand up.
His mind fogged up with the previous adrenaline he felt, a sigh leaving his lips, his body uncomfortably tense. He stared at his phone, the time reading 1:32 A.M, late enough for most people to be asleep by now, but he wasn't most people. He never has been most people.
He reached for his phone, his hands trembling slightly like his breath did each time he exhaled, he needed help, he couldn't take care of his wounds in this state, he knew he was too far gone now to even bandage his own scars. But he didn't want to be seen like this, not by anyone, but one person came to his mind that he knew he'd be most comfortable with being seen like this.
Chuuya.
He winced, feeling the pain now slowly seep into his mind as his breath trembled harder now, his breathing becoming heavier; he gripped onto his phone, opening it and being flashbanged almost immediately by the brightness, he could care less about the brightness of his phone tho—he needed Chuuya here right now. Much more than his pride would like to admit.
His thumbs slid across the keyboard the minute he opened "slug's" contact number, simple three words typed sloppily with no effort whatsoever. He couldn't care less about how he typed right now, he cared more about Chuuya actually receiving the message instead of his typos. Simple three words that slightly highlighted how much he wanted the ginger here right now—he never knew he could be this desperate for someone's presence before, but here he was.
"come over, please"
It was simple. Fast, typed in an instant, like his life depended on how fast he typed it. He didn't expect the ginger to see it immediately, after all he really expected him to sleep early or something—but boy, was he wrong. His message was seen about a few seconds after, a thumbs up emoji being sent. A small sigh of relief unintentionally left his lips, he just wanted to feel he wasn't alone right now.
—
And there, Chuuya was, in front of Dazai, his hands nimble as he wrapped the bandages around the brunette's wrist, the bandages being quickly soaked with crimson as the boy bled through—something flashing across his face for a moment; worry? Concern? Both of them couldn't tell, but they had each other at least. The silence was defeaning, but they had each other's presence.
"You told me you'd stop doing this." Chuuya whispered, his voice breaking the silence. He doubted Dazai could hear him right now, the brunette looked too tired to process things right now. "So why did you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as he feigned annoyance. Irritation, even, but he felt only a twinge of that at most, his eyes flickering up to Dazai's.
"It's none of your business." Dazai huffed, his head leaning back against the wall, his eyes darting to Chuuya's hands working on his bandages, his breath heavy. The dumbass put alcohol on his wounds to disinfect them or something—it hurt like a bitch, but it felt strangely warmer with Chuuya here. His eyes flickered back to the ginger's face, watching the moonlight highlight his features.
Chuuya didn't need to be a genius to know Dazai didn't want to talk about it, he didn't push, instead he went back to being silent, not even noticing Dazai staring—well, admiring at him as he continued to work on his bandages. He made sure to make them a bit thicker than usual, just to make sure the wounds didn't bleed through anymore, or at least less than before.
"Chuuya." Dazai suddenly said, the name rolling off of his tongue naturally, he's said it a few hundred times before, he'd never get sick of it. "Why do you come every time?" He asked, his head tilting to the side as he raised an eyebrow, a slight frown tugging at his lips, like he didn't want Chuuya to care, but deep down he did.
Chuuya paused. His fingers pausing their movements too, the question was unexpected—sudden, it made him genuinely think about it for a moment. He continued his work, his voice now quieter than before when he spoke, "Because I want to help you." He murmured, though he let his voice be a tad bit louder so the brunette could still hear it.
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
Dazai smirked, closing his eyes again as he mindlessly hummed. He took it as a stupid sign that Chuuya actually cared enough to help him out each time, and it made him a little happy to hear that in a way. A stupid smile tugged at his lips, not bothering to wipe it off. "Chuuya actually cares about me." He hummed, more in a teasing way, looking at Chuuya with a small grin on his face now, showing more happiness than both of them had expected.
Chuuya just rolled his eyes at that, his fingers eventually stopping as he pulled back, staring back at Dazai for a moment, scoffing. It didn't have any malice in it at all, he could care less about Dazai noticing that he actually cared. "Yeah, yeah. You hungry? I'll try and make you something." He stood up, helping Dazai up too, but he knew the brunette was probably too tired to eat.
"Since when could Chuuya cook?" Dazai hummed, smiling. He got up, stumbling on his feet a bit, nonetheless catching his balance. "We can eat tomorrow. Can you stay over for the night?" He asked, a slight pout playing at his lips—ge really needed to work on his puppy dog eyes, he was absolute ass at it.
"Yeah sure, I'll stay over." Chuuya nodded, leading Dazai back to his bedroom, to which they fell asleep with their heads rested on top of each other's, a pleasant sleep for Dazai—it was always a pleasant sleep when he was around the ginger, he could be so gentle sometimes for some reason.
