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Dazai fighting with Chuuya was not something new.
They would fight every time, every day of the week. They would be throwing insults at each other 24/7. It was their nature. As it was Dazai’s nature being insufferable and Chuuya’s nature losing his patience with Dazai.
It was practically natural. Dazai would come by, Chuuya would roll his eyes with an annoyed huff, Dazai would huff back, Dazai would say something to bother Chuuya, Chuuya would be bothered.
It was routine, a comfortable one.
So, Dazai didn’t understand why today was so… different.
Maybe it was the way he spoke, loud and clear, with his high pitched teenage voice. Maybe it was the words he said that escalated to something totally different than what he meant.
He just knew that Chuuya was annoyed. Like, really annoyed.
Nakahara turned to him, a sharp gaze directed towards Dazai, who tried – and failed miserably – to look indifferent to his reactions.
– And what do you know, Dazai? What do you know about sensibility at all?
Ah, yes. That’s why they were discussing in the first place. The two came back from a freshly finished mission, heading directly to Chuuya’s apartment to hang out and maybe talk and maybe drink – What they would do in Chuuya’s apartment after a mission was always a mystery to Dazai, last time Chuuya ended sleeping soundly buried in Dazai’s chest, so he really didn't know what to expect.
Instead of doing anything of the sorts, their rounds of insults started, the two of them throwing blind daggers that didn’t strike each other's hearts. Or so Dazai thought. ‘Cause just a comment about Chuuya being too sensitive to handle a bloody work got him feeling caged with a too intense gaze.
He knew the comment brushed Chuuya the wrong way. Maybe because he really was sensitive when the subject was the death of others, and he mourned the death of subordinates like he would mourn the death of a close relative.
– Answer me, you idiot! – Dazai couldn't. Or he simply didn't want to. Because answering that question with sincerity, meant saying that Chuuya was right. Dazai didn't understand sensibility, nor empathy. Those things are reservated to people with feelings and a beating heart on their chest.
So he just chose the old and safe path of indifference. Of playing it off until Chuuya shoves him out to the cold street.
– You ask what I know… it almost sounds as if you care about my opinion, Chibi.
– And what if I care? What if I care about what you think?
If things were neutral before, they’re starting to get dangerous now. They never say they care about anything concerning the other, even if the thing is as small as what the other favorite food is.
(They know everything about each other, they just never admit it.)
A truth that Dazai doesn't admit even to himself, is that he cares about Chuuya, much more than he likes to admit. He shows it, but never admits it as it is. A day after he met Chuuya he said that he loved him, which was brushed off with a laugh, a wave of hand and a “I was clearly joking, slug!”. Months later he kissed Chuuya in a dark alleyway. They never talked about how Chuuya reciprocated the kiss fiercely.
And Chuuya saying that he cares about Dazai’s opinion on something just shatters everything they built to hide whatever was the feeling that floats around them like a persistent and strong aroma.
It just shatters Dazai's belief that Chuuya really didn't care about him at all. That Chuuya just had the feeling of pure hatred towards him, nothing but that. And Dazai hates how the pain on his chest intensifies and the emotions take over him.
– Do you really wanna know? – Dazai asks in a stern tone, making even his own ears hurt. His rational side tells him to shut up, but he wasn’t listening to it. – You’re right Chuuya. I don't really feel anything close to empathy or sensibility or whatever. Different from you, who cries over the deaths of those who are just doing their work, nothing but that.
– Their work is not to die! Are you listening to yourself?!
No, I’m not. Dazai thinks for a brief moment before his mind starts to buzz again.
Before Dazai can continue his harsh monologue, Chuuya starts talking again. And Dazai just hates how his voice is so sad and broken on the edges.
– Maybe I was right. Maybe you’re just a hateful man. Maybe you don't feel anything towards anyone, and can just look at yourself, like the selfish shit you are. – Chuuya says everything in one breath, sighing loudly – I’m an idiot. You’re an idiot.
If Dazai was unsure before, now he is sure, he fucking hates himself. He hurted Chuuya. He was at a loss of words.
– Why are you an idiot? – Dazai asked before he could even think or control his mouth. God dammit, he was just making things worse.
Chuuya scoffed sadly, and Dazai felt his heart fall.
– I’m an idiot because I believed you when you said you loved me. Because I kissed you back. Because I truly believed that the things people say about you were just rumors.
Dazai gulped. His head was buzzing and his eyes were burning and oh my god did Chuuya just confess?
An uncomfortable silence fell in the room. They were both standing still in the middle of the kitchen. Dazai gulped again, his mouth suddenly dry and gasped for air, his lips trembling with the discomfortable feeling that settled in his chest. Dazai learned to name it. It was called guilt.
– I… I’m- – Dazai stuttered. His brain was screaming that he had to say something, anything to get that feeling of his chest, to appease Chuuya’s sadness.
– I meant it. – It was what he managed to say. His voice picking up a high pitched tone, trembling at the end.
– I don’t believe you. – Came Chuuya’s answer. Dazai wished he had his pistol with him to end himself right there.
– I know. – He deflated. He wanted to cry and to scream to Chuuya that he wasn't lying and that he loved him so much that it was scary.
– I’m… I’m sorry. I didn't mean to say anything I said. And… I meant it.
Chuuya brushed his hair back in exasperation, and Dazai cursed how his stomach turned with butterflies at the sight.
– Why should I believe you?
Why should Chuuya believe him? Dazai didn't know. If he was Chuuya and a weirdo like him asked him to trust him he too wouldn't be appealed to follow his tracks. Normally, the thought of someone not believing his word wouldn't – shouldn't – hurt so much. But it did. And he felt like throwing up at the thought of Chuuya not trusting him. It just sounded wrong.
Besides, Dazai didn't have any reason to be trusted, either. He lied a lot, joked around a lot, and half of the words that left his mouth were all lies. But he wasn't lying this time, and he had nothing to offer but his word and himself.
– What can I do? For you to trust me?
Chuuya looked at him for what seemed like an eternity, even though it was just some seconds of consideration.
– Kiss me again. Like you kissed me in the alleyway.
And Dazai but launched at him. Encircling him by the waist and kissing his mouth like it was the very oxygen he needed to live. The closeness wasn't enough, he felt like he needed to curl himself inside Chuuya's ribcage, right beside his heart.
Chuuya sneaked his hand into the almost unexisting space between them, holding his palm flat against Dazai’s heart, feeling the rapid pulse in his hands.
Chuuya licked Dazai’s lower lip, and his heart almost did a double staccato with how the beatings increased in a moment so short.
He wasn't controlling his heart beat, Chuuya though, absentmindedly. He wasn't lying, the bastard.
They broke the kiss, a whine leaving Dazai’s mouth, his head unconsciously moving forward to chase back Chuuya’s lips.
– You weren’t lying. – Chuuya stated, in an expression of almost awe. – Shitty mackerel.
Chuuya leaned forward, resting his head at Dazai’s shoulder.
– I’m sorry. You aren't heartless. – Chuuya murmured in the space between Dazai’s neck and shoulder.
Dazai laughed softly, drawing circles in Chuuya’s back.
– How would you know?
Chuuya smiled against him, tracing the place where his heart was with his fingers.
– I heard it.