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I. [Age 19]
Nakahara Chuuya furiously scribbled on the paper cup. He then slammed it on the Starbucks counter, glaring at the smug customer standing across from him. The taller man daintily picked up the cup, where ‘Oh Saw Moo Dog’s Sigh’ was scribbled in place of a name. The brown haired man cleared his throat, correcting, “it’s actually Osa—”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Chuuya muttered. This man had been a bitch ever since he’d entered the busy café, asking women to kill themselves with him and taking over a table meant for four by lying down dramatically across the chairs. Not only that, but he’d ordered the sweetest and unhealthiest coffee on the whole menu, which was coincidentally the most complicated, and come on. This man couldn’t have been much older than Chuuya, why couldn’t he just order a black coffee like any normal person?! “Now get your bitchass outta my coffee shop.”
“Now, now, is that any way to talk to your customers?” the man asked sexily normally with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Osamu Dazai, pleasure to meet you.” Dazai extended his hand, grinning from ear to ear.
Chuuya swatted his hand away.
“Next time you come, bring a girlfriend and two friends so you don’t waste space and terrorize my female clientele,” Chuuya retorted instead.
“You know, I swing both ways…” Dazai lowered his voice and leaned across the counter, dangerously close to Chuuya’s quickly reddening face (reddening from anger, not blushing obviously!). “Can I get your number—” Dazai’s eyes trailed down to Chuuya’s employee nametag, “—Chuuya?” His voice was low and gravelly.
“N-No!” Chuuya stammered, choking on his own words. “I— it’s unprofessional! You don’t even know my name!! Now leave me in peace, asshole!” He gave two middle fingers and all but shoved the taller man out the front door.
A one hundred dollar bill was left behind on the counter.
II. [Age 20]
A year has passed since Osamu Dazai had first shown up in Chuuya’s Starbucks, and, well…
“Chibiii!” Dazai complained, whining at the redhead. “There’s not enough sugar in this espresso macchiato!!”
“That’s the point,” Chuuya grumbled. “You come here at least once every week; you’re consuming too much sugar and need to cut back. It’s my job as a barista to help you with that.”
Dazai snickered. “Awfully caring of a mere barista, wouldn’t you say? Hey, wanna commit a double suicide with me, Chuuya?”
“Shut the fuck up, bastard.” As much as he hated to admit it, Dazai’s generous tips were helping him through college a fair amount and half funding his entire life. He obviously didn’t mean any of the cruel terms he spoke, but it was fun getting a reaction out of the taller man.
Dazai peered at the styrofoam cup. ‘Shitty Mackerel’ was scribbled on the side in Chuuya’s messy handwriting. “I’m not a fish!!” Dazai protested.
“Yes you are.”
“Are not!!”
“Are too!”
“Well then you’re a slug!”
“Hah? A slug?!” Chuuya spoke indignantly.
“A chibi slug!” Dazai smirked. “Go out with me!” he demanded.
“I-” Chuuya hated the way his heart beat irregularly at Dazai’s smooth, sexy voice. “N-no!” he argued again, but his voice was feeble and much weaker than before.
Dazai shrugged before grinning. “I’ll get ya eventually.” He stood up and grabbed his espresso in one fell swoop. His cape trailed after him as the door jingled shut, autumn leaves flowing behind the brown-haired man.
Chuuya stared after him for a few seconds, his stomach doing flips, before his manager, Mori, reminded him there was still a long line of customers.
Chuuya hated this job.
III. [Age 21]
Chuuya sighed with relief. It was his last day on the job and all he had to do was hope that shitty Dazai didn’t show up. Because Chuuya knew he couldn’t resist him— er, he didn’t want the man to ruin his day!!
The clock slowly ticked down.
Two hours.
45 minutes.
Chuuya let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, as it appeared Dazai would not be coming. He walked over to the Starbucks entrance, as the café was now empty, and just as he reached out to lock the door, it swung open, and you-know-who walked in. Chuuya glared as the dramatic man sat down, staring with puppy-dog eyes at the ginger. “Can I get a—” Dazai began to ask, but Chuuya waved his hand, interrupting him.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “The usual.”
Chuuya made the five-minute coffee, grumbling the whole time, and by now it was past closing time, but what could he do? There was still one customer.
Dazai sipped his drink gratefully, smiling the whole time. And if Chuuya found it endearing, so what?? He had given up on trying to hide it.
He liked this shitty bandage-wasting device.
“Hey, hat-rack!” Dazai called out as Chuuya finished mopping the floors. The sun was beginning to set as it was past five pm, and orange light filtered in through the large Starbucks windows. Chuuya glared at Dazai but walked over to his table regardless.
“Whaddaya want,” Chuuya asked bluntly.
“I want your number,” Dazai said with a cheeky grin. The man knew this was Chuuya’s last day working in the bustling café.
Dazai was expecting Chuuya to say no.
Hell, Chuuya was expecting Chuuya to say no.
Instead—
“Fine.”
Dazai blinked at him. His jaw dropped. “A—” He paused. “Actually??”
This was the first time Chuuya had seen Dazai so surprised. It’s almost kind of cute, Chuuya thought to himself with a small smile. Almost.
“Yeah. Don’t make me regret myself,” Chuuya warned.
Dazai broke into a wide, toothy grin. He held out his phone. Chuuya took it. Typing in his number, he handed it back to Dazai, who was practically vibrating in his seat and stepped back.
The phone in his back pocket pinged. Chuuya took it out, and noticed a hi:3 message from an unknown number. He quirked his eyebrow, looking up at Dazai for a moment, before training his eyes back down at his cellular device and typing in a short hello. God, he was going to regret this. Glancing at Dazai again, who was clutching his phone tightly, wide eyes, coffee forgotten, and he was definitely going to regret this.
All of a sudden, Dazai shot up from his seat and slowly walked over to where Chuuya was leaning against the counter. Chuuya stared warily at the taller man. Dazai’s hand slowly rested upon the marble next to Chuuya’s body. “W-What are you…” Chuuya trailed off, realizing what was happening. He stood on his tip-toes. Chuuya could feel Dazai’s breath and warmth, and he could see the glint in his eyes, and just as their lips were about to come into contact—
“CHUUYA!!” a voice yelled furiously from behind him. Chuuya winced, turning around slowly. Mori. “Do you have an explanation, or am I going to have to keep you for another year??”
Chuuya stiffened, bowing. “Sorry sir!” he choked out. “I was just finishing up in here!” He could hear Dazai chuckling beside him and he kicked the brown-haired man in the shin, warranting a small whine of pain.
The frustrated manager stared sternly for a few more seconds before sighing in exasperation and swiveling on his heels to storm back to his office. Chuuya sighed, relieved, and turned only to find Dazai no longer there. His phone rang out with a texting chime.
catch you later, chuuya ;) the message read.
Chuuya couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as he hung up his apron for the last time and exited the glinting glass doors.
The newest contact on his phone was labeled as “💩🐟”.
Chuuya smiled.
IV. [Age 22]
Chuuya grinned to himself, adjusting his hat. Despite texting with Dazai for a year, they’d both been really busy with college and hadn’t had much time to hang out. The several times they did, the romantic tension was obvious, and the two had come close to kissing more times than they could count. Eventually Chuuya had gathered the courage to ask Dazai out to dinner, to celebrate their first year out of college, and…other apparent reasons, and the taller man was supposed to be picking Chuuya up any minute now.
Despite Chuuya knowing he was gay since middle school, the ginger had actually never been on a date before, so this was a first for him, and he wanted– no, needed it to be perfect.
A horn honked from outside, and as much as Chuuya did NOT trust Dazai to drive, the brown-haired man had insisted, and who would Chuuya be if he denied the puppy dog eyes?!
Chuuya stepped leisurely outside, grinning at Dazai who was in a Ford. Of all cars, Chuuya thought fondly to himself, climbing into the passenger seat. The drive was relatively peaceful, the two laughing at funny moments that they’d had over the past several months. Dazai looked nice, and Chuuya could already feel his heart beating quicker with every meter they drove.
Eventually they arrived at the Italian restaurant. Before Chuuya could exit the car, Dazai was out in a flash, holding the door open and his hand out to Chuuya with a small smirk. Chuuya rolled his eyes but took the hand anyways, trying and failing to contain his furious blush. They entered the restaurant, and Chuuya walked up to the check-in counter. “Table for two under Slimy Mackerel?" he asked pleasantly. The woman across from him blinked in surprise, glancing at Dazai and seeming to suppress a laugh, but grabbed the menus anyways.
“What the fuck,” Dazai whispered to Chuuya. “Why didn’t you use my real name, slug?”
Chuuya shot him a shit-eating grin. “And why don’t you use mine, bandaged idiot?” he fired back, following the waitress to their table. “You have me saved as ‘slug’ in your contacts!”
“Touché,” Dazai muttered. Chuuya was grateful Dazai didn’t know what the man was saved as on his phone.
“I’m Akiko, I’ll be serving your table today,” the waitress said in a monotone voice as they sat down across from each other. She sounded bored. “The soup of the day is minestrone. We have the following beers on tap: Peroni, Budweiser, and Lagunitas IPA.” Akiko left them to go serve another table and the two settled in, Chuuya pouring over the wine menu while Dazai immediately chose a whiskey and began looking at the entrées. Akiko returned to take their order, yawning as Chuuya ordered a glass of the Masseto and Dazai got a plain whiskey on the rocks and a platter of garlic bread.
Their drinks soon arrived, and thus started the arguments. “I want the bistecca alla fiorentina!” Chuuya demanded.
“But Chuuya, that’s so expensive!” Dazai complained. “Let’s just get the crab and call it a day!!”
“Crab with MASSETO?!” Chuuya all but shrieked. “In your wildest dreams, bonehead!” A few heads began to turn towards them, including Akiko’s. She snickered.
They eventually settled on wild mushroom risotto and after twenty or thirty minutes it was ready. (Chuuya would never admit it to his shitty boyfriend, but he thoroughly enjoyed it.)
Towards the end of their meal, after they unanimously decided on no dessert, Chuuya called over Akiko and began to take out his wallet to pay. However…
“I’m going to pay!” Dazai protested.
“But I’M the one who asked you out!” Chuuya saw out of the corner of his eye Akiko holding up her phone to record them, but he couldn’t be bothered to tell her this was an invasion of privacy.
“I drove you here and held open the car door for you! Plus, I’m the one who even recommended this restaurant in the first place!”
“Bullshit, I already knew this place existed! I’M going to pay!”
“Not before I do!”
“Put your goddamn wallet away and LET ME PAY!!!” Chuuya argued back.
“I’m going to pay, now be quiet chibi!”
“MAKE ME!”
“FINE!!”
Dazai grabbed Chuuya’s shirt and suddenly they were kissing, Dazai’s lips pressed against his own. He tastes like whiskey, Chuuya thought, before any more thoughts he might have had dissipated. Dazai’s mouth was hot against his, and Chuuya felt the other man’s tongue enter his own mouth. Chuuya smirked against Dazai’s lips and suddenly they were battling for dominance, French kissing in an Italian restaurant.
Dazai finally leaned back, both of them panting. Chuuya could tell his face was bright red, but he didn’t really care, because holy shit.
I want to marry this man, Chuuya realized, flushed with alcohol and the aftermath of the kiss.
There was a sharp laugh from beside them and Chuuya froze, remembering Akiko. The waitress was smiling deviously, and she clicked stop on her camera recording, waving her phone in the air. “THAT’S going on the restaurant’s Instagram,” she declared, evilly giggling again.
Chuuya glared daggers at the brown-haired woman, but a laugh sounded next to him and he turned in surprise to see Dazai doubling over in laughter. He tried to stifle his chuckle but failed, and soon the three were all laughing loudly to the point where the manager had to come over and break them up.
“But Fukuzawa,” Akiko whined, “this is comedy gold! C’mon, everyone’s gonna want to eat here if we post this video!!”
“Miss Yosano, I appreciate the thought, but I’m sure we have it covered.” He spoke calmly, gesturing to the bustling restaurant and all the heads turned away, the background chatter remaining. “As for you, Dazai…”
Dazai stiffened, and Chuuya turned to him, intrigued. “You know him?” he asked quietly, and Dazai hung his head in shame.
“If I hear one more time that you’re bringing dates to our restaurant, I’m firing you.” Dazai opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Fukuzawa continued. “Yes, I understand you’re ‘serious about him’ this time, but it’s unprofessional to dine at a restaurant you work at. I’ll inform Mr. Kunikida about this, and don’t do it again.”
“Mr. Fukuzawa, noooooo,” Dazai begged. “Don’t tell him, pleaseeeeee!”
But the manager was already walking away.
Chuuya swiveled to Dazai. “You mean to tell me you work here??”
Dazai scratched the back of his hair nervously. “Um..yes….?”
Akiko sighed. “This idiot has brought dates here before, but they all end up ditching or breaking up with him after he asks them to commit a double suicide with them. I’m surprised you’ve stayed so long,” she continued, laughing. “Leave or not, I don’t care, but just letting ya know, he seems pretty serious this time. The dumbass loves you, Nakahara Chuuya.” The redhead blinked, unsure of whether he should be more surprised a random waitress knows his name or that Dazai told said waitress that he loves him.
Speak of the devil, Dazai lightly punched Akiko in the arm, pouting. “Hey, don’t spoil my confession scene!”
Akiko snorted. “Dazai, if that make-out sesh wasn’t a confession scene, I don’t know what is.”
Dazai blushed, continuing to pout, and Chuuya laughed, pulling Dazai into a short, soft kiss. “I love you, too, idiot,” he whispered in Dazai’s ear before he pulled back.
Dazai’s blush deepened and Akiko chuckled. “Dinner’s on the house,” she conceded. “But you have to pay double if you break his heart,” she added, jabbing a finger at Chuuya’s chest.
He smiled, agreeing.
Chuuya and Dazai exited the Italian restaurant holding each others’ hands and hearts.
V. [Age 23]
Chuuya knocked on the front door of the apartment to let his boyfriend know he was home, unlocking it with the silver key and juggling a few bags of groceries, including breakfast, in his gloved hands. It was 9:47 in the morning on June 19. Dazai’s birthday. It had taken days of interrogating Dazai’s coworkers (and now his, too, because Chuuya decided to start working at the restaurant as well) to figure it out, and the man himself wasn’t even aware that Chuuya knew. Dazai in question was lazing on the couch, munching on a small bag of barbecue chips while flipping through TV channels. He didn’t really seem to care that it was his birthday in the first place, and Chuuya knew this was because he was a suicidal maniac who didn’t give a shit about himself and probably thought he wasn’t worth celebrating, but Chuuya was determined to change this.
“Hey, shit head,” the ginger said, kissing Dazai on the cheek. “Happy birthday, bitch.”
Dazai blinked in surprise, blushing a little. “Chuuya, you… you knew it was my birthday?”
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Of course, idiot.”
Dazai averted his eyes. “I don’t really…”
“…celebrate, yeah, I know.” Chuuya grabbed Dazai’s chin and tilted the taller man’s face towards his own. “That’s all changing today.”
Chuuya yeeted a blueberry muffin at Dazai, who caught it and gratefully took a bite.
“Alright, here’s the plan for the day,” Chuuya began. “We’re gonna go out for lunch, then go out to watch Project Hail Mary, and last but not least I have a surprise or two for you this evening,” he finished, smiling.
Dazai chuckled a little. “Got a whole itinerary? Well, fine, I’ll go get ready then.” The brunette gave Chuuya a soft kiss on the lips and exited the room to get dressed, leaving the redhead to quickly scribble out a birthday card and eat a large slice of banana bread.
Eventually the two arrived at the lunch place, having listened to Waterparks and My Chemical Romance the whole drive, and took their seats at a nice shaded picnic table outside. Dazai ordered French toast while Chuuya got a sandwich. It was a serene and almost magical setting, the trees shading the partners from the hot June sun and fairy lights catching the sun’s rays, sparkling.
After lunch (Chuuya paid, of course) Dazai and Chuuya headed towards the movie theater, buying popcorn and slushies (Dr. Pepper for Chuuya, blue raspberry for Dazai) and taking their seats. “That movie was incredible,” Dazai said in awe as they exited. Both grown men had indeed been sobbing when Rocky and Ryland Grace separated the first time.
The clock finally struck 5:00 PM, and Chuuya put a blindfold over Dazai’s eyes so that he would be surprised. Taking a roundabout route to the Italian restaurant so that his boyfriend would be disoriented, Chuuya stared nervously out the front window, tapping the steering wheel in anticipation. This needed to be perfect. At last they arrived, and Chuuya led Dazai inside to the darkened interior. He yanked the blindfold off, and before the taller man could say anything the lights flashed on and in the emptied out restaurant, the entire staff, yes, including Kunikida, shouted “HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAZAI!!”
Chuuya glanced sideways at Dazai, smiling at the wide grin and expression of excitement his boyfriend had. Cute.
“Happy birthday, Dazai,” Fukuzawa spoke warmly, coming up to speak with Dazai. “I hope you are aware that you are valued here. The restaurant simply wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Before Dazai had a chance to respond, the famous Tanizaki twin waiter duo were in his place. “Hey, man, how’s your day been?” Junichiro asked, clapping him on the shoulder. He seemed a little drunk already, and the party had just started.
“Oh, uh, great,” Dazai managed to get out, flustered from all the attention.
“Do anything… fun, if you catch my drift?” Naomi added, wiggling her eyebrows and giggling a little. Junichiro slapped her and the two started to argue as Chuuya and Dazai slipped away.
“Happy birthday,” Kunikida, the manager, said solemnly and bowed his head. “Today is special because it celebrates you, so live this day to the fullest.”
“Kunikida’s weird,” Chuuya whispered in Dazai’s ear, and the two laughed, going to say hello to the others.
All of a sudden small arms wrapped around Dazai’s waist, and it was none other than the guy in charge of the restaurant’s finances, Edogawa Ranpo. Chuuya had come to learn that Dazai cared deeply for the man like he was a younger sibling, despite the fact that Ranpo was several years older than him. “Happy b-day,” Ranpo mumbled into Dazai’s back. “23 is a big age; that’s when I got this job. I hope you enjoy yourself and whatever.”
Dazai, smiling warmly, turned around to give Ranpo a proper hug, causing the older man to sniffle. “Thanks, Ranpo,” Dazai said sincerely.
As Dazai and Chuuya made their way to the snack table, Kenji (the head chef) stopped to high five Dazai. The couple finally took a seat next to Akiko, who was downing a bloody mary cocktail.
“Happy birthday, knucklehead,” Akiko said, laughing. “Here, have a sip!” The waitress shoved the glass into Dazai’s face and the man took a hesitant sip, blinking at the surprising taste.
Dazai turned to Chuuya with a raised eyebrow. “You said there would be one or two surprises, am I correct? So, what’s the second one?”
Chuuya shrugged, hiding a small smile. “Oh, did I say that? Must’ve misspoken!” Dazai rolled his eyes.
The rest of the evening was uneventful, and towards the middle of the night they decided to open presents. Chuuya sat next to his boyfriend as they faced everybody else. Fukuzawa gave Dazai several hundred dollars, and Junichiro and Naomi got him something he refused to show Chuuya, blushing furiously and shoving it in his bag. Kenji had a camera, for “taking cool pics!” as he exclaimed excitedly and Kunikida gave him an air fryer. According to the blond man as he adjusted his glasses, it was the essential tool for all adults in budding relationships and stable households. Akiko had a fancy whiskey to give him and Ranpo handed the man some wireless earbuds so Dazai could listen to his suicide song more efficiently.
The man in question said thank you to everyone, before turning expectantly to Chuuya, who gave him a small smile and handed him a card.
“Read it to everybody,” Chuuya ordered softly. The ginger’s gaze slid to Ranpo, who shot him a double thumbs up, and Akiko grinned wildly.
Dazai narrowed his eyes at the exchanges, but turned to the rest of the room regardless, trusting Chuuya. He cleared his throat and began to read.
“Hey bitch,” Dazai began. He snorted before continuing. “Happy birthday! I know you don’t really think you deserve all this, but trust me, you do. I’ve seen you through your highs and lows, and you are one of the kindest and funniest and most amazing person I’ve ever met. I’m so grateful to have you in my life, even if we met because of that shitty Starbucks. I’ve known you for five years now. That might not seem like a long time, but to put it into perspective, according to the internet, the young adult years are the ones remembered the most due to all the firsts. Now I’m not sure how correct this is because it was AI overview, but I do know that at least for me this is true. You were my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first best friend… and my first true love.” Here, Dazai’s voice wavered, and he began to blush. “I can’t imagine my life without you, despite my endless teasing. You know I don’t really mean any of that, right? Anyways, that’s not the point. The point is that I love you, idiot. So…” Dazai inhaled sharply, nearly dropping the letter. “S-so—”
“Will you marry me, tacky bastard?” Chuuya asked, smiling and kneeling on one knee behind Dazai. In his hand he held a ring box; inside laid a stunning gold ring with a small onyx stone in the shape of a teardrop fastened to the top.
Dazai’s hands shot up to his mouth, dropping the paper in the process. The man’s eyes were wide and– was that a tear?? Yes, the great Osamu Dazai was crying. Crying and smiling. He lifted Chuuya up and embraced the shorter man, the card forgotten. “Yes,” Dazai managed to choke out, “yes, of course I’ll marry you, idiot…” Chuuya laughed and shit, he was crying as well, and he shakily slid the ring onto Dazai’s finger, and it fit perfectly, obviously. And then there was clapping, because everybody else was still there, and Kenji and Ranpo and Kunikida were crying, as Fukuzawa showed one of his rare smiles, and Junichiro and Naomi were kissing (wait… what–) and Akiko was just standing there, clutching a bottle of alcohol, laughing maniacally and maybe she was crying, too. And of course she filmed everything, and if the next morning when Dazai and Chuuya woke up tangled in the sheets in the bed in their apartment, half naked, the Tanizaki twins’ present discarded on the floor, to their engagement posted on the restaurant’s official Insta, they didn’t complain, because they were too deeply in love to care.
+1: [Age 24]
Osamu Dazai was madly in love. He had always been in love, he thought to himself, since the second he had laid eyes on Nakahara Chuuya.
He was especially in love right now, though, as he stood facing the man of his dreams who wore a white suit, contrasting his own black one. Kunikida stood beside them. He was the wedding officiant. Dazai’s best man was Ranpo, of course, and Akiko was Chuuya’s maid of honor. Junichiro was ring bearer, Naomi flower girl, and the guests consisted of Fukuzawa and Kenji.
“You may now exchange vows,” Kunikida said, and Dazai realized he’d tuned everything else out.
“Osamu Dazai,” Chuuya began, and Dazai froze, his legs turned to pudding and a blush creeping up his face, because in their six years of acquaintance, the redhead had never once called him by his real name. “I promise to always stick by you, and when we’re ready to die, we can commit a double suicide together.”
Dazai blinked. “Oh, wow, I did NOT prepare enough for this.” Fukuzawa chuckled from the seats, and scattered yet quickly hushed laughter broke out. “Chuuya, I love you, and I always will, and I will devote myself to you forever.” That must’ve done the trick, because Chuuya was blushing now, too.
Rings were slid onto each of their fingers, and Kunikida continued, “Chuuya, do you take Dazai to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love, honor, and cherish him through sickness and health, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” Chuuya said firmly.
“And Dazai, do you take Chuuya to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love, honor, and cherish him through sickness and health, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” Dazai responded with clarity.
“Any objections?”
The scene was so silent you could’ve heard a pin drop.
“You may now kiss the gr–”
Before Kunikida even had a chance to finish his sentence, the two smashed their lips together and suddenly Dazai had a husband and he was really and truly happy, and he felt his heart swell with love for his family. He felt Chuuya smile into the messy kiss, and he smiled back, and everybody was clapping, and soon Ranpo hugged them, and Kenji, Yosano, the Tanizaki twins, and even Fukuzawa and Kunikida joined in. I finally feel like I’m at home, Dazai thought to himself, his smile growing wider.
“I love you,” he whispered to Chuuya.
“I love you, too,” Chuuya whispered back.