Work Text:
It was a normal day at the Armed Detective Agency. It was around ten in the morning, and Dazai, had of course, just arrived, because of course he had, because he was always late. But overall, it was a rather nice day.
The wind was blowing, and the sun was shining through the windows. Atsushi was chattering away to Junichiro about some mission as he did paperwork, and Yosano was arguing with Ranpo about some game on his phone.
Chuuya was sitting at his desk across from Dazai, doing some actual paperwork, unlike the former, who was fidgeting with the edge of his coat, which wasn't out of the ordinary.
But there was something that Chuuya saw that the others did not. He saw the flinching of Dazai's expression, and he saw the quietness of his partner's face. Nobody else did, of course, they weren't as inclined to pay attention to Dazai's micro-expressions as Chuuya was.
He knew his husband better than any of the fuckers in the building, even though he actually enjoyed spending time with many of them.
Something was wrong with his husband. Nothing too obvious, but he wasn't talking, and when Chuuya took a closer look across his desk, he noticed that he was doing actual paperwork. For once in his life, Dazai Osamu was doing his work the proper way.
Something was very very wrong.
"…Osamu?" Chuuya reached across the table and poked his partner's arm, wanting to get his attention. At the contact, Dazai flinched slightly. Yet another sign that he was not doing okay. Usually he flinched when other people touched him, but never Chuuya.
In fact, he loved it when Chuuya touched him.
It was a welcome warmth in his usually chaotic life.
But right now, he was flinching at it.
"Hm? What's wrong? Who is it?" Dazai perked up, then looked up and across his desk to lock eyes with Chuuya. "Ah, my loyal dog wishes for my attention? What can I give him. A treat? Pets?"
Chuuya gave him the middle finger with his free hand, but his eyes were soft with concern.
"The fuck's up with you?" he asked, placing his hand on top of his partner's, his thumb gently rubbing circles into his hand. "You're actually doing paperwork. That's never a good sign."
"Can't a guy do his job without being bothered by annoying Chibis? My life is honestly so dreadful!" Dazai pouted, but his expression seemed forced.
"How many reports have you completed in the hour and a half you've been here?" Chuuya asked. This number would determine the scale as to how bad his husband's current state was. If he'd done a number way higher than he'd ever done in an entire day, than something was really, really wrong.
"You and Kunikida-kun will be happy to know that I've filed thirty of the reports piling up on my desk, even the one that Chuuya and I completed together at the Yokohama harbour! The one with nearly 14 pages!" he chirped, looking back down at his papers.
Fuck.
"How about we take a minute in the break room, then, Osamu? You've done lots of work this morning, I'm sure Kunikida would allow you to take the break." Chuuya suggested, nodding to the break room that held all of the food (well, whether or not there was any food left, because Ranpo enjoyed it so much, was up for debate) and the comfortable couches that again, Ranpo had forced the Agency to buy.
"…fine. But not for too long. I have to get back to work, Chibikko!" Dazai drawled, lazily standing up from his chair.
Now, nobody but Chuuya would have noticed the slight wobble in his facial expression, nor the slight tremble in his steps.
"Dazai! Where are you going!" Kunikida shouted from across headquarters, standing up from his desk. "You still have a mountain of paperwork to complete, and you came in late today!"
"Actually, he's fine, Kunikida-san." Chuuya reassured the blond, gesturing to Dazai's desk. "Our little bandage freak here did over 30 files today, including the Yokohama harbour one."
Well that certainly surprised Kunikida, to the point where his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. "Dazai? No way."
"It's true, Kunikida-kun~" Dazai teased, hobbling over to the break room door. Chuuya moved swiftly to stand beside the detective, allowing the brunet to lean his weight onto the redhead.
Chuuya gave Kunikida a pleading look and he relented, gesturing to the break room door. The (more recently) ex-mafioso pushed the door open and shoved Dazai inside lightly. "To the couch." he instructed, gesturing to the largest couch in the break room.
"Why does Chuuya care so much, mm?" Dazai said, sitting down on the couch. Chuuya didn't miss the way his shoulders slumped, the way that he seemed to be curling into himself.
"You can drop the act, 'samu. There's nobody else here, and I closed the blinds." huffed the redhead, moving to sit next to his husband. "What's bothering you, mackerel? And don't say nothing, because we both know that there's something going on, that you refuse to tell me. So fucking spill."
Even though his words sounded harsh, both men knew that they held so much care, so much concern, and so much love, that nobody else could really understand.
That was the strange thing about the two of them.
They communicated their emotions in ways that confused every single person that they had ever worked with, but never confused each other.
In fact, they understood their strange way of communicating perfectly.
"…I got a call this morning." Dazai admits, leaning onto his husband. He slumped down and let his head rest on Chuuya's shoulder, his soft head of hair tickling the redhead's neck.
"Mm?" Chuuya mused, wrapping an arm around his partner's shoulders. "From who?"
Dazai turned his head to look up at his Chibi, and the look told Chuuya all that he needed to know. He'd gotten a call from the one person that could really, truly, hurt Dazai.
The redhead's eyes darkened slightly, but he kept his voice calm. "Mori, huh? How'd he get your number? Actually, scratch that. He can get anything he wants if he tries hard enough, can't he."
Dazai nodded. "He called me, yes."
He sounded scared.
Who wouldn't be, after what Mori had done to Dazai, and at such a young age? He'd uprooted Dazai's life and turned him into a stone cold killer to the point where ninety percent of the Port Mafia's brutal methods were made up by Dazai, merely at age 15.
And Chuuya never blamed Dazai. He had been a vulnerable child, he knew that now, and hadn't known anything other than what Mori taught him.
And it had hurt him greatly, to the point where Dazai was still recovering, and contemplating suicide daily. It had gotten better once Chuuya joined the armed detective agency, but… not by much.
He was still hurting.
And Chuuya, sometimes, he didn't know what to do.
He took a deep breath. "What did he talk to you about?"
Dazai sighed and buried his face into his husband's shoulder once more. He mumbled something under his breath, muffled by how quiet he was saying it, but also with how his face was buried into Chuuya's clothes.
"Speak up, love." Chuuya muttered, his hand rubbing comforting circles into Dazai's back. "Can't hear you."
"Wants me." Dazai mumbled. "Port Mafia."
Oh.
Oh.
Mori was trying to bribe Dazai into joining the Port Mafia again. After the loss of Chuuya, the Port Mafia was sort of powerless when it came to unbeatable strength, and Chuuya wasn't even exaggerating his own abilities because it was true.
And Dazai was the only person who could truly match Chuuya, not with abilities, but with mind.
And Mori wanted his best player back, because he was sure that he couldn't get Chuuya back.
"You said no, right?" Chuuya murmured.
Dazai nodded. But he looked unsure, in a way.
Ah.
He considered saying yes.
Chuuya couldn't blame him. It was the first place he'd known as a true home, however corrupted that home had been. He'd had more security than he'd had with the ADA, somehow, even though he was sleeping in a storage container.
"But you considered it."
Dazai nodded again.
Chuuya leaned back and swung his legs so that they were on the couch, and Dazai took the invitation immediately. He crawled forward and wrapped his arms around Chuuya's waist, and buried his face into his stomach, slumping the rest of his body against him.
"You don't have to go back there, I promise." swore the redhead. "You have a home here now. With me. With Kunikida and all of those other shit heads outside."
That brought a soft laugh out of his partner. Chuuya buried a hand in his hair, and started to play with it, because he knew that it helped Dazai calm down. It was something that they'd found out when they were still in the mafia together, that touching the brunets hair calmed him down nearly instantly.
"Chuuya promises that he won't leave me?" Dazai murmurs into Chuuya's clothes.
Now it's the latter's turn to laugh softly.
"I married you, did I not?" Chuuya said, lifting Dazai's chin to show him the ring that was on a chain around his neck, dipping just below the collar of his dress shirt, just enough to keep the ring hidden, and their relationship as well, from all of their coworkers except for Ranpo.
Dazai's ring was hidden in the gem on his bolo tie, it clicked open to reveal the ring if you were really curious.
"And what did I promise at the wedding?" Chuuya prompted, wanting Dazai to remind himself of the promises that they made to each other that fateful day in June four years ago.
Dazai took a minute to remember.
"You promised never to leave me, even if I was an ass, if I was sick, if I was healthy, and through anything." he recited, squinting adorably to try and remember. For all of his quick wits and smarts that he boasted, he was softer when he was around Chuuya.
His true self… he was just that scared fifteen year old boy who'd had to grow up far too fast.
Chuuya himself had grown up too fast, having to lead an entire organization at only 15, but for Dazai, it must have been worse, because he hadn't had the comradery that the Sheep offered him. He'd had friends.
Dazai had not, not until Chuuya.
"And I still uphold those promises today." Chuuya murmured, tugging Dazai up to plant a kiss onto his lips.
"Promise?"
"Always, Osamu. I love you."
Dazai's eyes widened, as they always did when Chuuya said those three words, those eight letters.
And they stayed there for all of lunch, with Dazai eventually falling asleep, and Chuuya as well. They remained wrapped up in each other in this way, because neither man really truly knew how to let go of the other, to the point where many theorized that they would likely die holding each other (but not in a double suicide, of course, because somehow, Dazai was no longer interested in those things).
(Later that day, Kunikida went to check on them, because even though Dazai wasn't behind on his work, Chuuya was, and he was a little confused as to why, as the ex-mafioso was always on task.
He checked the break room to come face to face with both men sleeping, with Dazai's face buried in Chuuya's stomach, his arms slung over Chuuya's waist.
Kunikida couldn't believe his eyes. He gestured for Yosano to come over, and her eyes widened as well. Ranpo appeared behind them and snorted.
"You two really couldn't tell?" he said, sucking on a lollipop.
"You knew!?" Atsushi exclaimed, appearing behind the group silently gathering at the door to the break room. "Actually, scratch that, of course you knew, but why didn't you tell us?!"
"It wasn't my secret to tell!" Ranpo shrugged, then walked back to his desk.
"The one time Ranpo keeps his mouth fucking shut…" Yosano shook her head, still in shock at the sight in front of her. "Well. I suppose we should have known. Their bickering could be chalked up to flirting, if I'm being honest."
"…you have a point." Junichiro said from his desk.
"Yeah you would know a thing or two about flirting, wouldn't you, Tanizaki." Kyouka snorted.
"Shut up!" he pouted, going back to his work.
"Well, I suppose we should leave them be." Yosano said, starting to close the break room door. But Kunikida stopped her.
"They need to go back to work!" he almost shouted, but neither man on the couch stirred even slightly.
"Let them be. I think… I think Dazai needs this." Atsushi said, putting a hand onto Kunikida's shoulder.
"He does. He's having a rough day." Ranpo piped up.
So Kunikida closed the door, and left the two men to sleep on the couch, wrapped up in each other.)