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Another cold night alone in the apartment. Slug is probably out on a mission somewhere or just avoiding coming home not to look Dazai in the eye after what happened. After all, it's not like they'll ever push their beds together to cuddle for warmth again, not after the brunet stupidly blurted out "I love you" drunk out of his mind a week ago. Chuuya didn't take that well of course. Just walked the drunken idiot back to the dorm without a word and disappeared into the city, Dazai hasn't seen him since.
And now he's drunk once again, this time without his partner by his side telling him embarrassing stories knowing the alcohol will erase the memories by morning. Wrapped in the blanket that's not helping his borderline malnourished body keep any warmth one bit. He just sits there with a half empty bottle of gin and a bag of m&m's, staring at the wall like it's the most interesting thing in the room. And maybe it is. With fairy lights, all of the Chuuya's punk band posters and all their fuckass pictures from the photo booth — that they spent all their cash on every time they passed it just to draw dumb doodles on each other's faces — put up on that wall, making the empty apartment feel like home. And no amount of cigarettes and gin and broken rubber bands — that he had pulled and let go so they would slam into his wrist full force because he promised Chuuya not to cut — could make him forget or knock him out or at least make him stop staring at that goddamn wall as he drank and drank and drank and cursed his goddamn alcohol tolerance. And himself. For slipping up and telling Chuuya how he truly felt.
Hours went by, the rain outside hasn't stopped all night, the clouds closed off the view of sunrise that Chibi would sometimes wake up early to watch. Dazai has gone through half a pack of cigarettes, stinking up the room. He gets off the bed and holding himself up with one hand against the wall not to fall from all the substances in his system making him dizzy walks over to the window to open it before the neighbours come complaining about the smell. He stares into the distance for a while, before deciding he's finally tired enough to go to bed. Although the stinging of his wrist was making it a bit more difficult, and the gin was wearing off. For a while he considered "accidentally" falling out the window. If his body got found with this much alcohol and nicotine in it nobody would question it too much. But the idea of the pain of the fall changed his mind.
Meanwhile, Chuuya finally gets the courage to come back. He enters the building, a pack of Mackerel's favourite liquorice and a note in his hand, walking up the stairs as the disgustingly sweet stench of smoke keeps getting worse the closer he gets to the floor their shared apartment's on. He unlocks the front door, the room eerily silent for a home of an insomniac usually awake at this time. Leaving everything he's holding on the counter, the redhead rushes to the bedroom. Upon entering he's greeted with the sight of Dazai passed out on the floor, empty bottles next to him, ashtray full of cigarettes smoked out all the way to the filter. And the sunrise peeking through the clouds outside the window. He doesn't take a moment to appreciate the red hues bleeding their way into the sky so grey it looks like life had been sucked out of it. He kneels down next to the body on the ground. The pulse is there, the breathing's normal. But he just needs to make sure. So he shakes the body, cursing under his breath, swearing to choke the life out of the damn Beanpole himself once he wakes up. It takes him a while, Dazai sleeps like a baby after all, especially when drunk. When he finally does open his eyes he looks rather displeased. Wether that's from the fact he was pulled out of his slumber almost imminently after falling into it or from the fact he didn't die of alcohol poisoning. However his gaze immediately softens when he lays his eyes on what he believes to be the most beautiful human he has ever seen. Dazai finally relaxes as his head rests on Chuuya's thighs.
"You came back..."
"Well no shit I came back Kouyou got fed up with me staying over and told me that I need to 'deal with my feelings instead of living with her rent free'"
"I thought you hated me..."
"I do hate you! I come back all romantic with your favourite sweets and shit and you have the audacity to lay here high on god knows what! You've ruined the fucking moment!"
The redhead flicks the brunet's forehead, hard, maybe enough to leave a bruise. The brunet just chuckles, rubbing his forehead, for once not even complaining about pain.
"Well sorry I thought my favourite Hatrack left me for good. You disappeared for a week! And you blocked me! What the hell was I supposed to think?"
"That I'm fighting the urge to kill you for making me feel all those things so suddenly. You're almost a mind reader at this point, how can always you read people but you couldn't read that?"
"You're the one person I haven't cracked the code of yet, Chuuya, and I never want to. I think it's kind of beautiful how you're so predictable yet so confusing at the same time. That's what makes me love you..."
"You're an idiot, Osamu"
"Am I your idiot though?"
Chuuya just stares down at him, that kind of stare where you can see the gears turning in his head as he's deciding wether he wants to kiss or strangle Dazai. Finally he decides on the former, holding the sides of boy's head in his lap as he leans down, for a moment longer than needed he studies his face before finally closing the distance. And for a while they forget about everything as they just lay on the floor in each other's embrace, blanketed by the warm rays of sunlight finally fully breaking through the clouds.
Until Dazai opens his eyes that is. Still alone on the floor, still raining outside, still too drunk to know what's happening. It takes him a minute to realise it was all a dream. A sweet lie his own brain came up with to cover up that he did in fact ruin everything.
Chuuya did come back that night. He didn't come back with sweets, just a goodbye letter that he left on his pillow. He took all the posters and photos off the wall, packed his stuff and left for good. Leaving Dazai rotting away by himself until one of his vices eventually kills him.