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Dazai hated Valentine’s Day.
Years ago, on this day, he was told that he was unloveable. Nobody could ever love him, not as long as he lived.
So, he attempted suicide again. Not an unusual occurrence, no, but..it was the most real. The scariest. He didn’t even try to avoid pain that time. He truly believed that he couldn’t be loved, especially because he had lost his humanity.
Chuuya - stupid chibi - was the one to save him. Dazai was barely conscious at the time, yet Chuuya’s eyes were burned into his memory. He remembered the fear in the blue depths, swirling among an ocean of tears.
Stupid Chuuya. Getting too close. Dazai left anyways.
He always did that.
Chuuya hated Valentine’s Day.
The only man he loved wasn’t here. Gone, just like everybody else in his life.
He’d saved that stupid mackerel, but he just up and left. Like that.
Chuuya was terrified of that look he saw in Dazai’s eyes that night - hopelessness, true emptiness. Dazai was like a sickening angel. His bandages had fallen around him like a halo, his body curled up like a cherub. Almost like he was sleeping. It would have looked that if not for the trickles of blood coming from everywhere.
If not for Chuuya, desperately patching him together, delivering CPR while muttering a sinful mantra: “please, I love you.”
Chuuya shivered at the thought. Dazai..damn fish. Stupid, stupid!
He was stupid. A dickwad, leaving Chuuya to rot in the mafia like that. Even when Chuuya laid his heart out, ripe for the picking, and instead of cherishing it, Dazai took it and ran. Ran like the wind, never to return again.
“Stupid mackerel..” Chuuya muttered, tears sliding down his face, lips nursing the millionth glass of some old wine. He lay slumped on the couch, watching some dumb romance that was streaming on TV. So what if he had all he wanted? He didn’t have when he needed most. He didn’t have anything to fill the aching gap in his chest, where a thief had stolen his heart.
Dazai missed his chibi. He missed the nights spent giggling over nothing, curled up together and gossiping over mafia relationships.
He missed having someone who was there to patch him up when he was down.
He missed having someone to push his affections onto. Sure, he had Kunikida..but that wasn’t the same. Kunikida didn’t nurse him back to health when he’d have a particularly horrible day. Kunikida didn’t hold him as close.
Kunikida wasn’t Chuuya.
And there Dazai sat, nursing another glass of whiskey at the Lupin Bar, wallowing in misery about all he had lost. Couples came in and out, drinking, kissing, practically eating their partners’ faces off sometimes. Yet, Dazai couldn’t even bring himself to scoff at them. No, he just sat. Sat, and yearned for Chuuya’s warmth.
Chuuya wanted cake. That’s why he was walking at 10:30pm, drunk and shivering.
He wanted some good ol’ convenience store cake. Buy the whole thing, eat it all, and the rest is sober Chuuya’s problem.
Dazai had gotten kicked out. That’s why he was walking at 11pm, drunk and shivering.
The bar had closed. Rather, the owner or whatever had somewhere to be. Tch. He’d might as well find a nice river and plunge himself in it.
Thunk.
“What the fu..ck..” Dazai fell flat on his ass, squinting up at whoever ran into him. Red hair, short as hell..no. It couldn’t be. Right?
“Chuuya?”
His voice was like a pitiful whine, confident facade washed away with the alcohol. He stumbled up to his feet, leaning on a nearby lamppost, trying to get a closer look at the person.
“Stupid mackerel.”
That confirmed it. This was his chibi, the one he’s yearned for all this time.
The punches to his gut also confirmed it. Weak. They weren’t like his Chuuya, but the anger was. The sadness. The emotion. The raw humanity Dazai always loved.
Dazai took the punches, gently grabbing Chuuya’s fists and removing them away, stepping closer to see Chuuya’s face.
“Chibi..don’t cry. Why are you crying?”
“..stupid mackerel.”
A body collided into him, Chuuya slamming himself against Dazai’s chest, sobbing and whining drunken murmurs. Dazai could only hold him there, frozen in shock. His chibi..was here. He wasn’t trying to kill him, capture him, nor hurt him in any way. Instead, he was crying. Ugly tears. The kind only a few people, like Dazai, saw.
“My sweet Chuu-yaaaa..”
Dazai hummed lowly, swaying the pair of them, resting his chin on Chuuya’s head.
“Shut up.”
Chuuya pulled back, face finally shown - streaked red with tears, a soft pout on his lips, a drunken flush on his cheeks. Beautiful, according to Dazai.
“Will you eat cake with me?”
Chuuya mumbled softly, trying to hide his face again in Dazai’s shoulder.
Dazai chuckled softly, lifting Chuuya’s face and cupping it between his hands. He couldn’t resist giving the soft cheeks a little squish, eliciting a grumble from Chuuya.
“I’ll always eat cake with you.”
That was how they ended up eating shitty convenience store red velvet cake in Chuuya’s apartment, drunk off their asses. Faces covered in pink frosting, limbs tangled together as they tussled on the sofa and watched old reality TV.
Dazai missed this.
Chuuya missed it too.
They missed each other.
They missed their nights of sweet whispered nothings, the nights of warm embraces and soft, peppered kisses.
For the first time in years, this was that night of sweet, innocent affection.
Maybe this Valentine’s Day wasn’t so horrible after all.
The morning after though, certainly was awful.
Groans and grumbles came from both the men sprawled on the couch (and each other), neither quite ready to face the impending hangover. Chuuya tried to pull away, but Dazai’s lanky arms only tightened around his waist. It seemed like Dazai was using him as his own personal stuffed toy.
“..’samu..lemme go. I need medicine..” Chuuya whined, snuggling back into Dazai despite his protest.
“Ssssssssh..too loud, chibi. Too loud..”
“Bandaged idiot.”