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Late after a mission, chuuya had finally arrived back home to his sweet apartment, shuffling through his pockets for the keys to open the door—then shoving it into the hole and pushing it in, only to be met by the sight of a familiar, and annoying, face—the one and only Dazai Osamu, sat on his expensive black couch as if he owned the place.
He’s known him for about nearly three years now and he still thinks of him as an annoying piece of shit—nothing going to change that. Well, sometimes not really.
But those sometimes don’t have to be brought to the light right now.
Especially after Chuuya’s long day at work, full of paperwork and missions.
Though, he has to admit, he hadn’t seen Dazai much today. Whether that be a relief or a bad thing was something that had been conflicting him all day—so it was sort of refreshing to see him now.
Obviously he’d never admit that aloud.
He shut the door behind him lazily, probably slammed it even; but he was too tired to care. Kicking his shoes off, he stomped over to where Dazai sat lazily on his couch, with something in his hand it seemed from this angle?
Though, chuuya didn’t really care regardless. He was tired and irritated—and deep down happy to see dazai—and wanted some rest.
some
“Dazai, why the fuck are you in my apartment. Can’t you just leave me alone for ONE day? I’m tired and all of that—” Chuuya started to complain, bringing two fingers to pinch the top of his nose before dazai interrupted him.
The audacity.
“Shh, chuuya. Why don’t you quieten down for once? Come sit.” Dazai directed, patting an empty spot close beside him.
Chuuya, taken aback not only by the audacity of this dude to be commanding him when he’s clearly irritated, but also by the… proximity of that space dazai wanted him to sit at between him?
Isn’t that a bit too close?
What did Chuuya care—his legs were completely aching.
He slumped down beside him before even thinking of the fact that he literally just obeyed a command given by dazai—but clearly dazai didn’t really seem in the mood to tease him about how he’s a “good dog for listening to his master”, so he had supposed that was a good sign at least.
“What do you want?” Chuuya said bluntly, still frustrated and tense.
Dazai lifted the object Chuuya previously noticed in his hand earlier but paid no attention to due to the stubborn mood he was in and shifted it close to chuuya.
It… looked like a cigarette? A blunt?
A blunt.
What in god’s name—
Chuuya had no idea dazai even smoked this type of shit.
Well yeah, they’re in the mafia, but he took him as the type to only smoke strictly tobacco and snort coke—not this.
And by how he was carelessly holding it out for chuuya, it seemed like an invitation?
Hold on, does he want to get high?!
“Have you ever smoked before, chuuya?” Dazai asked—tone foreign, more softer and calmer—even though it’s usually calm and collected anyway.
Chuuya shot the blunt a look as if it personally offended him, then processed Dazai’s words and finally looked up at him—as if he also offended him, but also sort of taken aback and in awe by how gentle dazai had sounded.
Nope.
“‘Course, why?” Chuuya asked stupidly—voice slightly hoarse from the fact it had been a while since he had spoke—which he clearly hadn’t noticed since he wasn’t paying attention to time right now.
“Well I happened to get some supplies for us to get high.” Dazai said bluntly, staring at chuuya as if it were the most normal thing in the world; getting high.
Chuuya raised a brow in response, looking at dazai then the blunt, again.
“You want to get high with me?” Chuuya repeated, clearly taken aback.
“Well there’s nobody else I’d want to do it with.” Dazai said casually, and truthfully, given his normal—for once—expression.
(Well, at least, that’s what chuuya called it.)
Chuuya stared at him for a moment more, then held out his hand. “Go on then.” He said.
Dazai passed him the blunt within a second, then took his own from god knows where, and brought it to his lips, leaning back against the couch slightly.
Chuuya just stared for a moment before shifting his gaze to the blunt that was previously in between dazai’s fingers—now in his. He pressed it to his lips shortly after before taking a drag with practised ease.
A few drags later, Chuuya’s body began to feel lighter and his shoulders had naturally learnt to relax after being given the indirect signals, he turned to look at dazai, who looked… odd? Out of place? He had never seen him with such an expression as he stared at the TV ahead with such intensity—hell, chuuya didn’t even notice the TV had been turned on.
Chuuya moved to place the blunt down against the ashtray after feeling too lazy to hold it in between his fingers, then leaned back against the couch, which Dazai had followed shortly after, then turned to him.
“Do you wanna get crossfaded?” Dazai asked.
Chuuya blinked at him as if he were an alien, considering the horrible hangover they were gonna have in the morning, prepared to decline—but then held back, reconsidering. He had a long day and needed to get the stress off his shoulders anyway. At least, a bit more.
“M’kay.” Chuuya murmured, his gaze falling on where dazai’s hands had swiftly moved moments after chuuya agreed, over to a bit vodka bottle.
Where the fuck does dazai even get these from—where does he get the time?
Chuuya watched him open it with intensity—chuuya didn’t even like vodka, at least, on its own, but he was honestly too comfortable on this couch to go check his cabinets for his wine collection, and he still had too much pride to ask dazai to go get something else, so vodka would have to do for now.
Dazai turned to chuuya with the now opened big bottle of vodka, looking like a lost puppy in his eyes.
“We don’t have cups here so we’re gonna have to drink from the bottle.” Dazai explained slowly, which was thankfully slow enough for chuuya to understand—and him being too lazy to get up, again, didn’t really care.
Plus, it’s not like chuuya hasn’t ever shared a drink with anyone or had a first kiss with anyone before, so he was fine.
(The other times he’s ever shared a drink were with dazai and the sheep, but he was too high to really dwell on that.)
“A’right.” Chuuya murmured, shifting closer instinctively so that they could share the bottle, dazai picking up the signal and handing him the bottle for a moment, which chuuya took a swig from before handing it back to dazai—which he had regret after a few moments as he felt the raw vodka slowly burn down his throat.
Well shit.
Dazai, seemingly noticed after his slow sips grinned like an idiot at chuuya, poking his cheek for whatever reason chuuya didn’t really care to find out for, “So silly, chugging the vodka~” Dazai had slightly slurred.
Chuuya shot him a familiar look, feeling his eyebrows as they furrowed instinctively at dazai, only slight difference in his expression being the fact he was pouting now—which wasn’t a sight dazai always got to see, so his grin grew wider at the sight, though decided to not say anything about it as he didn’t want to ruin it.
“What the hell ‘re you smilin’ at so brightly? Gimme the bottle back!” Chuuya slurred demandingly, reaching out again like a desperate child, which Dazai found even more amusing but handed the bottle to him anyway, watching him take slower sips this time, then putting the bottle in between them lazily with no coordination whatsoever.
“Let’s put it on the floor, silly.” Dazai said, moving the bottle to rest on the floor, now nothing was in between them.
Chuuya already felt as light as a feather by now after the long drags of the blunt and now few sips of the vodka—he was probably tipsy by now and high, his sober self would’ve declared.
Dazai was easier to read in Chuuya’s opinion, especially when drunk—and crossfaded at that—so it was obvious he was high and coming onto being drunk, he called it.
Dazai continued to stare at chuuya for a few moments, pupils more dilated now that chuuya looked closer, which he hadn’t even noticed he was doing, but he leaned closer.
“What is chuuya doing?” Dazai asked in that silly third person POV, sounding even more sillier as he slurred his words, though, his hands reached out slightly close to Chuuya’s knees.
“Dunno, what’re you doing?” Chuuya slurred back, half-defensively, half-not-knowing-how-to-answer.
“Staring at tangerine.” Dazai answered after a moment, grinning after a moment after realising what he had said, chuuya guessed, then giggling and hiccuping in between.
Chuuya stared at him as if he were crazy; then a grin broke out of nowhere after a moment at how ridiculous he had sounded and also how silly he had looked—in a good way, he thought.
(Also because he ignored the fact dazai could’ve possibly been talking about him being the tangerine.)
“You’re so stupid.” Chuuya retorted after a few minutes of snorting and broken giggles.
Dazai frowned after a moment of processing his words, which chuuya caught quickly and shot him an unfamiliarly sympathetic and high look, leaning in closer than before to press his palm to his cheek, then his other hand to cup his cheeks,
“Hey, don’t be upset.” Chuuya slurred, a hiccup following shortly after—which Dazai had giggled at after a moment of staring into Chuuya’s red eyes and dilated pupils in awe and shock.
Chuuya was the one to frown this time, which dazai returned the favour, this time his hands going to his hips boldly—mostly without thinking but also because he didn’t have to, since they have kissed and possibly made out once or twice before, and it had started like this.
(Which had ended quickly either because they got walked in on, were tired or because it was just to tease each other to see if they could get one another hard, or at least half.)
Chuuya instinctively leaned in closer after being given the signal, which Dazai did seconds later, their lips eventually pressing against one another’s, tasting the familiar taste of vodka on one another, and faint weed in their breaths. (though, mostly overcome by the raw vodka.)
They tasted one another more intimately than they usually had before, it was a slower, although uncoordinated, kiss which included subtle and slow touches of each other’s body, although clumsy—but both were too high and drunk to care.
After a few moments of quick and slow kissing—which didn’t feel like long honestly to chuuya, but had turned out to be at least three minutes, they both pulled away, dazai staring into Chuuya’s eyes moments after.
“You’re pretty.” Dazai said after a few moments as if he were thinking about it, his hand slowly moving down his cheek lovingly, tracing a few freckles in the process which were slightly covered up by the pink flush on Chuuya’s cheeks—which were frankly all over his face due to how lightweight he was, which made Dazai smile unironically.
Chuuya leaned into his touch for a moment, staring at him.
“I feel like a fairy.” Chuuya murmured moments after, ruining the moment, of course—but dazai, and himself, didn’t care at all, in fact it made Dazai smile wider, then snort, which he had also agreed.
A while after staring at one another and relishing in one another’s scent, dazai had ended up laying back on the couch, chuuya shifting lazily so that he were positioned slightly against his lower abdomen but also at the same time head resting against the soft fabric of the couch, which they both laid comfortably watching halfway through the SpongeBob episode they had ended up on somehow until they fell asleep.
Who knew.