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It is 1:15 in the morning and Atsushi has to work early tomorrow, but his brain doesn’t seem to have gotten that memo. He’s tired and wants to sleep, but his brain would much rather turn over every little thing that he’s ever done in his life, which is just fantastic. He rolls over, burying his face in his pillow, trying to ignore the little voice in his mind that seems hell bent on reminding him of every failure he’s ever had.
A knock on his door interrupts his thoughts.
He gets up with a groan, rubbing his eyes as he stumbles to his door. “Coming.” He mumbles into his quiet apartment, more to ground himself in reality than to inform his surprise visitor. Atsushi doesn’t get many visitors during reasonable hours of the day; he can only assume that Dazai has gotten kicked out of the apartment he shares with Kunikida and needs a place to stay for the night.
It takes him a second to undo the lock, but he finally gets it unlatched and opens the door, fully ready to scold Dazai for whatever it is he’s done.
Akutagawa is not who he is expecting to see on his doorstep at 1 o’clock in the morning.
It’s not so much that he’s adverse to the other being here-it’d make him a hypocrite, seeing as he’s been secretly seeing the other for a while now. It’s also not the time of night; Akutagawa keeps a strange schedule that Atsushi is starting to get used to. No, it’s more the fact that this is an unannounced visit, which is very unlike the other that catches him off guard.
His first instinct is to let out an alarmed yelp that he quickly muffels with his hand. His second thought is to pull Akutagawa into the apartment so that no one will stumble on him talking to one of the mafia’s guard dogs in the middle of the night.
Akutagawa hisses as Atsushi yanks him unceremoniously into his apartment and Atsushi assumes that it’s in response to being manhandled. Then he glances down and notices with growing horror that the white dress shirt Akutagawa wears is stained dark red with blood. Blood which, judging by the way the other is swaying on his feet, is probably his own.
“Oh my god.” Atsushi breathes out, feeling a panic attack coming on. “Oh my god.” It’s more of a whimper this time, and his entire body is trembling.
“Atsushi.” Akutagawa speaks quietly but firmly. “I need your help.”
“O-okay.” He stutters, and gives himself a quick mental shake. Helping someone he can do; he’s got this. Maybe. “Uh…” he trails off helplessly, glancing up at Akutagawa.
“Bandages, a needle, thread, and alcohol if you have it.” Akutagawa, thankfully, seems to have a steady grasp on the situation, even if he is swaying on his feet.
“Right!” Atsushi trips over himself in his haste to get to the bathroom to grab what Akutagawa’s asked for. His movements are clumsy and his hand are shaky but he manages to gather the bandages and emergency sewing kit he keeps in the bathroom. After some careful consideration, he also grabs some bacterial wipes. He dashes back to the living room, where Akutagawa is supporting himself on the old sofa that Atsushi had saved from the trash. He holds them out to the older man. “I don’t have any alcohol, sorry.”
Akutagawa grunts. “It’s fine.” A pause, followed by a quiet mumble. “This was going to hurt either way.” He pushes himself off of the sofa, wobbling unsteadily. Immediately, Atsushi dumps his armful of medical supplies on the sofa so that he support the other. Akutagawa wraps his arm around Atsushi’s shoulder, and the two of them manage to stagger their way onto the couch properly.
Slowly, Akutagawa shrugs off his coat, hissing in pain. The wound looks even worse without the black of the coat to hide it, Atsushi notes, as the other pulls his shirt over his head.
Atsushi inhales sharply as he gets a good look at Akutagawa’s injury. The dark makes it hard to see, but he can make out a dark gash running up the others side, sluggishly trickling. It’s a sharp contrast to Akutagawa’s pale skin and Atsushi feels sick looking at it.
“Relax, it’s not as bad as it looks.” Akutagawa's voice is soft, and Atsushi knows him well enough by now to know that he’s trying to hide his amusement for Atsushi’s sake. He doesn’t see what exactly is so funny about the situation, and says as much to Akutagawa. The older man snorts. “I looked worse after we fought on that ship.” He says, leaning back slightly so that he can examine his wound.
He must realize how badly what he said sounds, because he looks back up quickly just in time to see Atsushi’s shoulders hunch. “Don’t.” He says sharply, and Atsushi blinks. “We did what we had to at that time; it’s no one's fault.” Akutagawa clears his throat awkwardly, and glances to the side. “Now, are you going to sit there or are you going help?”
Atsushi has to duck his head to hide the smile forming on his face. Akutagawa is beyond clumsy with his words, a byproduct of him growing up in the mafia. He has trouble saying what he means and is still struggling with the concept that it’s okay to show affection, but Atsushi isn’t perfect either. He can read between the lines for now.
“What do you need me to do?” He scoots closer to the other, hands placed on top of his knees. Akutagawa regards him coolly, and Atsushi can’t help but be impressed by how much control the other has over himself in spite of his pain.
“For you to keep me awake.” And then Akutagawa is ripping open one of the alcohol wipes and pressing it onto his cut before Atsushi has time to ask anymore questions.
Akutagawa doesn’t yelp but Atsushi does. “Oh my god!” He whimpers, and how many times is he going to say that tonight?
“Atsushi.” Akutagawa’s voice is strained, and he’s speaking through gritted teeth.
“Sorry!” He apologizes hastily. “I um….wasn’t ready.”
“That makes two of us.” Akutagawa let’s out an unsteady breath and tosses the dirty wipe aside. The cut (it looks like a cut? Atsushi isn’t sure) looks a little bit better without old blood surrounding it. Still not great, but better. “You’re not very good at helping.”
Despite himself, Atsushi feels a prick of irritation well up in him. “I’m sorry, I don’t know the protocol for my bleeding mafia boyfriend showing up in the dead of night on my doorstep.” He snaps, and this time Akutagawa actually does smile. With a sigh, Atsushi deflates. “How exactly am I supposed to keep you awake?”
“Talking would be a good start.” Akutagawa is messing with the sewing kit now, opening it up and threading a needle with deft hands.
“Can I start with, ‘What are you going to do with that’?” Atsushi asks, feeling his stomach drop.
“May not be your best question.” Akutagawa is paler than normal, and this is not what Atsushi signed up for. “If you’re squeamish, you may want to look away.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. The ceiling of Atsushi’s apartment isn’t anything special, but it’s better than the alternative. “Alright, don’t ask don’t tell, I got it.” There’s more quiet and a quick breath from Akutagawa, so Atsushi presses on hurriedly. “Should I ask how this all happened?”
“Job gone wrong.” Akutagawa is panting, and Atsushi balls his hands into tight fists.
“Have you considered a less dangerous occupation?”
Akutagawa makes a strange sound, and he’s not sure if it’s from amusement or pain. It’s probably a mix of the two. “I have a fairly limited skill set.”
“I don’t know-’I know how to perform field surgery on myself’ seems like a nifty skill to have on your resume.” Akutagawa groans and he flinches at the agony in the others voice. “The criminal background may be off putting though. Do you at least have good health insurance with your current employer?”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that.” Akutagawa’s voice is shaky and tight, and Atsushi really really hopes the other will finish suturing the wound soon because he don’t think either of them can last much longer.
“It was a serious question.” He insists. “But fine, I’ll ask another. What’s your favorite color?” It is unoriginal, but also the best he can come up with right now.
“Black.” The answer is immediate, and Atsushi is surprised by that. Akutagawa isn’t normally one for sharing, but he also doesn’t usually show up bleeding at 1 AM, so Atsushi figures it's only fair.
“Of course it is.” His boyfriend is sewing his own wound shut and nothing is really funny about the situation, but Atsushi can’t help but be fondly exasperated at his answer. “Mine is blue.” He adds absentmindedly.
“Blue?” Comes the question. Akutagawa is breathing a little more evenly, and he sounds more steady now.
Atsushi hums in affirmation. “Yeah, but not like a tealy-blue or a light blue, more like a navy blue.”
There’s a quiet snip of scissors and Atsushi risks a glance down. Akutagawa has managed to close the wound, pretty neatly for someone who had to do it on himself he thinks. The older man is trembling, and his breath is coming in choppy gasps, but the bleeding has stopped. Atsushi lets out a sigh of relief. “I’m really glad you didn’t pass out, because I definitely couldn’t have done that.” From the look he gets, Atsushi gathers that his boyfriend feels the same way.
Silently, Akutagawa offers the roll of bandages to him and he accepts it. He sets to work, wrapping the roll around the others torso, careful not to pull too tightly. Atsushi is very much aware of how close he is to the other, how his hands keep brushing against pale skin and how he’s practically hugging the other so that he can keep passing the bandages around Akutagawa’s body. It’s both a blessing and a curse when he finishes, ripping the bandage from the roll and securing it.
His bandaging job isn’t perfect, but it’s neat and will work. Akutagawa looks exhausted and Atsushi imagines he doesn’t look so good himself right now. He piles all the leftover bandages and supplies on the nearby table to be dealt with in the morning, and stands up.
“C’mon.” He murmurs, offering his hand to the other. Tired gray eyes blink at him. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere tonight and we’re both exhausted. So you’re going to share my bed tonight, and no, you don’t get to argue about this.”
Akutagawa, for once, seems inclined to listen. He accepts Atsushi's hand, allows himself to be pulled gently up from the sofa and led back to Atsushi’s futon. Gingerly, he lowers himself onto the futon and Atsushi follows suit, carefully to stay on his own side.
Atsushi has every intention of keeping some space between him and Akutagawa so that he doesn’t aggravate the other’s injury, but Akutagawa has other ideas. Arms wrap around Atsushi and tug him backwards, so that he’s half lying on top of the other. He sputters out feeble protests as Akutagawa tugs the blankets up on the futon. Atsushi is ready to protest, but Akutagawa cuts him off with a question.
“So, navy blue?” Atsushi’s sleep deprived mind is lost for a minute before he realizes what Akutagawa means. He smiles, relaxing in the others grip.
“Yeah.” Akutagawa’s hand is running through his hair absentmindedly, and Atsushi can feel his eyes slipping shut. He figures that if the other is fine with him sleeping on top of him, he can be too.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Akutagawa’s thank you goes unspoken but understood.
*
Someone is humming in his dorm, and that’s what wakes Atsushi up. His first thought is that whoever it is needs to stop, because he’s warm and comfortable and moving is one of the last things he wants to do right now. His second is that, holy hell, why is there another person in his apartment?
Atsushi shoots up-or he tries to, anyway. He’s stopped by Akutagawa’s arms, that are still wrapped tightly around him. He flops back against the mat, eyes wide.
Dazai is standing just in front of his futon, hands in his coat pocket and a broad grin on his face. “Good morning Atsushi-kun~” He says cheerfully.
“G-good morning.” He stammers, panic rising in his chest.
“Atsushi-kun, you didn’t tell me that you were having a guest over!” Dazai scolds him lightly, a pout tugging at his lips.
“It was unplanned.” He blurts out, and well, it’s not a lie. Akutagawa shifts at the noise, moving closer towards Atsushi.
“How adorable.” Dazai coos, and Atsushi can feel himself turning red. He’s very aware of how Akutagawa hasn’t let him go yet and tries to tug himself away. The movement wakes Akutagawa fully, and he slowly untangles himself from Atsushi and sits up. His eyes widen and he can feel his boyfriend tense as he stares at his former mentor.
“Dazai-san.” Akutagawa greets him civilly.
“Good morning Akutagawa-kun!” Dazai seems beyond pleased to have waltzed into Atsushi’s apartment to find both of his students curled up in bed together.
“Is there something you need, Dazai-san?” Akutagawa asks, and wow, he’s handling this much better than Atsushi is right now.
“Well, I had dropped by to see if Atsushi-kun wanted to get some coffee on the way to work, but I can see he’s busy.” His eyes look the two of them up and down, fully taking in the bandaged, shirtless Akutagawa sitting very close to a sleep mussed Atsushi. “Very busy.” He adds, and Atsushi is forcibly reminded of how his mentor is actually like a giant 5 year old.
“So, I guess I’ll just have to see you at work Atsushi-kun.” Dazai continues. He turns to leave, cape billowing behind him with a flourish. “And don’t worry-I won’t tell anyone.” Dazai’s tone is serious all of a sudden, his eyes flashing and his smile gone. It lasts only for a second, just long enough for Atsushi to be convinced it’s not his imagination, and then is gone. “Be safe you two!” He calls, and then he’s out the door, presumably to cause trouble elsewhere.
Atsushi and Akutagawa are left in stunned silence. “What….what just happened?” He manages to ask after a few seconds. Akutagawa gives a stiff shrug, grimacing as it tugs on his injury.
“Dazai-san happened.” Is his answer, and the sad part is that Atsushi kind of understands what he means by that. “But I don’t believe he’ll sell us out, if that’s what you're worried about.”
It’s not the first time Akutagawa has made Atsushi think he can read minds, but he’s thankful either way. He lets his head come to rest on Akutagawa’s shoulder, reaching for his hand under the blanket. Akutagawa laces their fingers together, and Atsushi is struck by how soft the others skin is.
“We should get up.” Akutagawa says eventually, though he doesn’t seem the least bit inclined to get up.
Atsushi isn’t either, but he really does have to get to work, especially if he doesn’t want Dazai to tease him the whole day. With a sigh, he gives Akutagawa a tug upwards, and the two of them get to their feet. They dress in silence, standing side by side in the bathroom, moving around each other with an unpracticed syncretism that feels right.
“Will you be alright?” Atsushi asks as he walks Akutagawa to the door. His boyfriend quirks an eyebrow at him, and Atsushi tries not to think about how flustered Akutagawa gets when he’s shown genuine affection and concern.
“Yes.” It may be the morning light, but it looks like Akutagawa’s neck is turning a faint shade of pink. “I will be fine.” He hesitates for a moment, and Atsushi makes the decision for him. He steps forward, looping his arm around the taller man's neck, and kisses him lightly on the lips.
“Okay.” Atsushi breaths out. “I’ll see you later then.”
*
When Atsushi gets home later that night, he heads straight for his futon, ready to collapse face first onto it. Dazai is merciless when it comes to teasing, and he’s had to deal with innuendos and suggestive jokes all day. Just like Akutagawa had said though, no one seems the wiser to his illicit relationship, so at least he’s got that going for him.
He can’t fall face first into bed however, because there’s a tiny plush tiger with navy blue fur already sitting on it. Tied to its neck is a tag with Akutagawa’s writing on it. He can feel his face split into a broad grin, and his heart flutter.
Atsushi has no problem falling asleep that night, the tiger clutched tightly in his arms. Actions speak louder than words, after all.