Work Text:
It starts like everything else.
Dazai leaves him behind. Then he shows up out of nowhere, ready to bury the hatchet as if it’s him bearing the weight of their fallouts, not Chuuya. As if he’s even half as affected as Chuuya by the invisible block of ice and concrete separating them after he so naively thought they could never be separated.
Waking up alone in that dark forest does not come as a surprise. Corruption, the pain of it, the haze and the shame surrounding it do not hold a candle to the bitter resignation he feels as he drags his exhausted limbs across the mud and dirt, noticing but finding it hard to care about his overcoat and hat folded neatly next to where he was knocked out.
Q is awake a few meters away, staring into nothing with a significant lack of a hideous doll.
“Ready to go?” Chuuya asks softly despite himself, finding it hard to hold a grudge against a child caught up in something much bigger than themselves.
Q nods, sniffling. Chuuya has enough hold over himself to resist the urge to do the same. He walks over to the small child, kneels and waits wordlessly.
They roll up their sleeves with ease then offer their arms up obediently.
Chuuya sighs at the sight of bloody bandages.
“I thought we had an agreement on this.” He admonishes in a parently tone not entirely alien to him. Q looks away sheepishly.
“I don’t like the other way, it doesn’t work well enough.” They mumble petulantly as Chuuya begins to methodically remove the razor-infested bandages.
Chuuya bites his tongue before retorting, reminding himself that he’s talking to a child so affected by their trauma they prefer cutting themselves up with razors to allowing their targets to just ‘bump’ into them harmlessly.
After a few minutes of working in silence, he throws the soiled bandages away then stands back up, trying to ignore the blood on his hands.
“Is that it or are there more?” He asks, feigning nonchalance past the lump in his throat.
Q shakes their head.
“That was all of them!” They reassure him with morbid cheer.
“Alright,” he turns his back to the kid then kneels back down, “up you go.”
A few seconds pass.
“I wanna do the airplane.”
Chuuya huffs then turns around.
“I could drop you.” He warns solemnly.
Q grins, “all the more reason to do it.”
Chuuya’s heart drops. Fuck Dazai and his influence.
Chuuya takes Q’s hands in his own, spreading them in an arc to resemble wings then activates For The Tainted Sorrow and soars. It takes a lot out of him not to wince at all the ways his body makes its aches known, he clenches his jaw tight and tries to focus on Q’s loud whoops of joy as they fly back to the Port Mafia headquarters.
If Chuuya holds their hands a little tighter when they look up to him in rare happiness, well, no one is around to comment.
The journey is over in mere minutes, he drops Q off with Hirotsu with explicit instructions to let the older man tend to their wounds then flies home for a much-needed soak in the tub, hoping to wash off not only the dirt but the disappointment he wouldn’t admit he was feeling.
Upon unlocking the front door, a familiar snow-white ball of fur sidles up to his leg, rubbing its head almost aggressively against Chuuya’s calf.
A smile makes its way to his lips despite himself as he drops to his knees next to Helios, offering his hand palm-up for the affectionate cat to nuzzle into. He purrs contently, giving Chuuya a rare lick of his tongue.
“Did you miss me?” He coos tiredly at the feline, receiving an unimpressed stare in return. It surprises a choked laugh out of his throat.
“Of course you didn’t.” Who would?
He swallows the insistent lump in his throat, forcing his bitterness to take a backseat as he stands up to start and try shaking off the exhaustion of the day.
Helios follows him to his bedroom, meowing earnestly while he walks into his dressing room to pick up some nightwear to sleep in after his shower.
“I know I’m stupid, Helios, you don’t need to shout it to the rooftops.” He jokes indulgently, falling effortlessly into the habit of talking to his cat when he’s stressed.
The cat yowls lowly and Chuuya is more than happy to consider it an objection to his statement. “Oh yeah? You think so?”
He gets a chirp in return as if Helios is in perfect understanding of what he means.
“You’re right, that idiot Dazai is such an asshole.”
“That is not what that cat said.”
It is testament to how utterly out of it Chuuya is to not notice the presence of another person- an infuriating, insensitive, apathetic, know-no-boundary piece of shit- standing right outside his dressing room.
Helios stands to his full height, which isn’t much, bearing his teeth and hissing threateningly at the intruder. Chuuya turns slowly, feeling the anger bubble in his chest.
“What are you doing here?” He asks quietly, dangerously, aura shining burning red.
The brunet holds his hands up innocently, an infuriating grin plastered on his face.
“Why, I’m here to check on Chibi, of course!”
Chuuya has to physically dig his heels into the parquet flooring, feeling it give way under his feet, to stop himself from launching at his ex-partner. He absentmindedly adds a visit to the flooring contractor to his neverending list of tasks.
“Like hell you are, get the fuck out.” He growls, glaring daggers. Dazai’s expression of fake joviality falls and in its place is a probing stare, one that sets Chuuya on edge.
“I couldn’t take you to the extraction point, I had other matters to attend to.”
It’s just the shittiest excuse Chuuya has ever had to hear, it’s so ridiculous it makes him want to laugh. He wishes Dazai didn’t say anything at all, wishes he weren’t here right now, standing in front of him waiting for- waiting for what? What did Dazai come here hoping to achieve? An apology? He’s incapable of apologizing. In his book, this was the closest Chuuya would ever get to a real apology. So what was it? Gloat? Dazai doesn’t hate Chuuya. He doesn’t love him, that’s for sure, but he doesn’t care about him enough to hate him, so gloating is a pointless endeavor.
“I’m going to ask again, Dazai, why are you here?” Chuuya repeats his question but this time it lacks fire, he’s just so incredibly tired. Helios is already bored with the standoff, leaving the room with a give-no-fuck attitude.
Dazai’s mask of indifference cracks ever so slightly.
“I wanted to see if you needed any help. You haven’t used Corruption in four years.”
‘I needed help getting to the extraction point’ is what Chuuya would like to say, but that would start an argument, an argument in which Dazai has a very real chance of saying something that will hurt him.
An argument would imply that Chuuya wants to fix things, that he wants to sit down and hash things out with Dazai and like he said, Dazai doesn’t care about him. It’s better if he just accepts the sentiment and runs with it.
“I’m fine.” He spits out, turning his back on the brunet. The first rule you learn as a kid on the streets is that not having everyone in the room in your immediate field of vision is a certain death. He tries not to dwell on the connotations of how turning his back to Dazai doesn’t send the fear of death crippling him.
He picks up an old pair of track pants and a frayed sweater that used to belong to Shirase at one point. Chuuya hates reminders of his old life but the sweater still fits after all these years and it’s the most comfortable article of clothing the Sheep hideout has ever witnessed.
He walks past the bandaged detective briskly, hoping he wouldn’t mention the obvious limb in his gait. It’s a wonder Chuuya’s legs are still functioning.
If Dazai wasn’t here, he would’ve canceled his body’s gravity and floated his way through his nightly routine.
“I drew you a bath.”
He halts mid-step but doesn’t turn back.
“How long have you been here?”
“Well, you know, I had to make sure some other things were going according to plan then I came here. I figured you were delivering Q so I started a bath for you with burning hot water so it would be lukewarm by the time you arrive.” The brunet explains, tone sheepish.
“Q is a person, Dazai. I didn’t deliver them, I took them home.”
He can’t see him but somehow he knows Dazai is rolling his eyes.
“You wanted me to kill them like an hour ago.” He mocks, the annoying lilt in his voice coming back full-force.
“I knew you wouldn’t, not after you suddenly grew a conscience.” He wanted to confirm it to himself, make sure that Dazai is capable of behaving like a human being, even if that behavior didn’t extend to Chuuya.
“Aww, Chibi, you’re always so quick to believe in me.”
The teasing reminds him of his anger, simmering to red hot in his veins. He doesn’t say a word in response, only walks to the master bathroom, slamming the door shut on his way inside.
He doesn’t bother locking it, if Dazai wanted in, he would be in, no lock capable of driving him away.
He’s met with a cloud of steam that doesn’t suffocate him as much as it embraces his weary bones. He sheds his soiled clothes article by article, wincing when his muscles protest in what is a sure sign of a tomorrow filled with pain. But that’s a problem for future Chuuya. Present Chuuya is sinking into the warmth of the scented water, courtesy of his shelf full of essential oils, and scoots until the water is up to his neck.
He can physically feel the soreness abate from his body, if only momentarily, and it makes him feel just a tiny bit better. He wonders if Dazai is doing it as another convoluted method of racking up favors, but it’s not like Chuuya ever says no to him.
“Chibi! Is the bath to your liking? I added all your fancy scented oils. And by all I mean all. There are none left, hehe.”
Chuuya’s eyes are closed when Dazai barges into the bathroom as if it’s his own, he doesn’t open them when he hears the detective approach and he’s too tired to rise to the deliberate taunting.
“This doesn’t make up for leaving me for dead in a remote forest.” He states serenely, eyes still closed as he leans his head back against the porcelain headrest.
“You can fly, Chibi, nowhere is remote to you.” Dazai’s tone is so soft it makes Chuuya’s chest ache. His voice is closer now. Chuuya raises his knees to his chest, opening his eyes lazily.
Dazai is sitting at the edge of the tub, staring at the redhead with intensity that makes him stiffen. He keeps their eyes locked, gazes heated as they wait for the other to yield and look the other way, Chuuya will be damned if he lets it be himself.
The brown eyes that used to be empty of emotion once are now overflowing with feelings Chuuya can’t name. The steady gaze is intense, deep, like Chuuya is a piece of strategy for Dazai to analyze.
It sets him on edge.
“What?” He snaps once he’s on the verge of looking away. He’s never been able to match Dazai’s intensity anyway, he isn’t about to start now.
“How much longer are you going to take in this bath?” The brunet breathes, sending a shiver down Chuuya’s spine.
“I literally just got in, shitty Dazai.” He mutters, looking away before he does something stupid. After all, all it takes is one act of kindness from the brunet and Chuuya finds himself exactly where he swore he’d never be again, right under his thumb.
“Want some company?”
A voice insistently replays the events of tonight in his head, reminding him with bright red alarms why it is a terrible idea to even consider Dazai’s proposition. He blinks the imaginary alarms away, hugging his knees to his chest.
“No.” He mumbles but it lacks surety. Judging by Dazai’s lazy smirk, he catches the hesitation like a hunter spotting prey.
“No?”
He wants to punch the smugness away, but he also wants to kiss it.
“We shouldn’t.” Chuuya hates feeling weak, hates the widening of Dazai’s smile, like he knows exactly that this is the moment Chuuya concedes.
And it is, because as Dazai leans down from his perch on the edge of the tub, Chuuya perks up to meet him straight on. He tries not to think of the ramifications of his decision as their lips meet.
Future Chuuya can worry about them.
So yes, Chuuya and Dazai fuck sometimes.
It's not very surprising, considering all the sexual tension taking permanent residence in the air between them, Chuuya can even mention a dozen people who probably bet on it happening sooner or later.
What it is , is embarrassing, because Chuuya is acutely aware of how good that bandaged fucker is in bed.
If someone told him four years ago that the ruined partnership between him and Dazai would come back with slightly less commitment and largely more spice, he’d roundhouse kick that person three walls over. Because Chuuya once thought sex and love were synonymous. One cannot exist without at least some vestiges of the other.
Such was not the case with Dazai, but then again, nothing was ever the case with his partner. The Port Mafia’s resident hothead and the infuriating Demon Prodigy rarely saw eye to eye, this was just another thing to add to the ever-piling list of aspects they’re fundamentally different in.
Sex meant nothing to Dazai, but it meant everything to Chuuya.
It didn’t help that Helios, following the rocky first introduction, was absolutely enamored with the bandaged freak.
“Ehh, hello?” That was all the brunet had to say the first night he stayed over for the feline to latch onto his lanky legs and refuse to let go. He wasn’t even that affectionate with Chuuya!
“Chibi! Your cat is in love with me!” Dazai had said in a more obnoxious tone than usual and Chuuya surrendered himself to a fate of fending off this ridiculous tag team.
He comes home one day after a grueling day of finishing up dirty business at the docks to find the lanky detective sprawled on his beloved leather couch, petting his- did he mention how traitorous he is?- cat while said cat purrs and stretches on his lap, asking for more .
“I can’t help it if Helios prefers me , really.” Comes Dazai’s reply to Chuuya’s unimpressed stare.
“He’s an awful judge of character, I’m not surprised.” Chuuya retorts, ignoring just how heartwarming the rare display of humanness is in favor of walking briskly to his open-plan kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine. He’s going to need it if Dazai’s looking for a night of passionate release.
“He is your cat, were you expecting anything different?” Dazai retorts with a snort, not moving an inch.
When Chuuya turns to glare at him, he shrugs innocently.
“Figures. I’m sleeping with you after all.” He says grumpily, taking a sip from his wine as he leans back into the small kitchen table.
Dazai’s lazy gaze morphs instantly into one of pure electricity. Chuuya swallows the rest of his wine with a large gulp.
The lanky brunet straightens up, Helios whining at the loss of his soft petting, then he approaches Chuuya with slow, sure steps.
“That’s not what you were screaming last night as I pounded you into my mattress.” He drawls when he’s a hair’s breadth away from Chuuya, his breath tickling Chuuya’s face. He hates that he has to tilt his head up a fraction to meet his partner’s eyes, and the pure lust clouding the brown of his irises sends a jolt of arousal through his bloodstream.
The redhead sputters out, indignant and a bit turned on at the reminder of yesterday’s bout of passion at Dazai’s dorm.
He knew they were doomed to a repeat performance of yesterday the moment he caught sight of the genius detective in his apartment, uninvited and coat-less, lounging on his sofa.
“You did imply I’m an awful judge of character.” He murmurs quietly, conscious of the maddening proximity between their lips. Dazai smirks and it's so telling of the experience Chuuya has with him to know to expect danger from that single expression. He has enough sense to place his empty wine glass somewhere behind him before Dazai can jump him and smash his favorite glass to the ground.
“Great at sex though, I’ll give you that.” Dazai states and before Chuuya can even blush properly, he’s hoisted up by strong hands on his thighs and he knows the drill. He should be annoyed by how easy he is to manhandle by someone who looks and has the aesthetic of a twig but as he wraps his legs around the slim waist, crossing his ankles at Dazai’s back, all he can think about is the sinful way the brunet fits snugly between his thighs.
He lets out a deep breath, balancing his arms over Dazai’s taut shoulders.
“Are you going to get to the point or should I just go to-”
Dazai’s lips interrupt him rather aggressively before he can act more nonchalant about this, kissing him into submission. It’s push-and-pull right from the start, the sound of their teeth clashing disturbing the serenity of the atmosphere in the redhead’s apartment. The press of lips is anything but chaste, both of them hoping to assert a needless modicum of dominance on the other. Needless, because Chuuya always bows out in the end.
It’s not a matter of giving up the reins, as much as Dazai likes to taunt him. The gravity manipulator is keenly aware of his ex partner’s manic obsession with control, in his mind’s eye, it’s just easier to give Dazai what he wants and well, if Chuuya gets to let go in the process, win-win.
However, the inevitability of his submission does not necessarily mean he makes it easy for the brunet. If he wants Chuuya quiet and pliant, he has to work for it.
With that in mind, he takes their kiss up a notch, taking Dazai’s lower lip between his teeth and biting . The pained gasp escaping the genius’ mouth soundlessly sends a sharp jolt of arousal down his spine, aiding his blood to travel further south. He exploits the chance instantly to shove his tongue inside, mapping out Dazai’s mouth aggressively, a final act before he hands off his control.
Dazai smirks into the kiss and with no warning, he tightens his hands around the back of Chuuya’s thighs in a bruising grip and bucks up into his pelvis with vigor. Chuuya moans into his mouth at the delicious friction, not enough to satisfy him but more than enough to get him riled up for what’s coming.
“More, give me more.” He pulls away from the kiss for just a second to convey his neediness before diving back in, raking a hand up through the nest that is Dazai’s hair, scratching desperately to make sure he gets his meaning across.
Dazai makes a strangled noise in response before pulling back, making Chuuya involuntarily chase after his lips.
“Easy, mon petit mafia , when have I ever left you hanging?” He teases lazily, his breath caressing the side of Chuuya’s neck. He doesn’t allow him to retaliate before he starts sucking on that patch of skin below where his jaw and neck connect. His teeth brand a bite mark, hastily soothed over with the wetness of his tongue.
“Choose quickly, wanna get fucked on your fancy bed or your fancy couch?”
Chuuya pants shakily, one hand holding onto Dazai’s back for dear life while the other fists his brown vest, bringing him infinitely closer.
“Bed, Helios won’t let us breathe if we do it here.” He answers, voice catching in the middle when Dazai continues nibbling down his neck. He tilts his head upwards to give him more space, not wanting the electric sensation to stop.
Dazai hums in acknowledgment, the vibration making Chuuya shiver.
“Not like I’m planning to let you breathe either.”
With that, the seasoned tactician pulls back again, taking the chance in the split second Chuuya’s guard is lowered to capture his ass with both hands, kneading the twin mounds with bruising force, all while thrusting up against him, bringing their half-hard erections together. The warmth of his hands seeping through Chuuya’s thin slacks feels like burning marks branded onto his skin.
“Bed it is.” Dazai husks, tightening his hold on Chuuya’s ass with uncharacteristic strength. Not caring about the bruises he’s sure to find in the morning, Chuuya plasters his body to the taller man’s, leaving no space between them as Dazai navigates them out of the kitchen area and into the dark hallway.
“If you drop me, I’ll kill you.” Chuuya threatens emptily into his neck to distract himself from the way Dazai’s half-hard cock digs into his pelvis with every step he takes. It won’t help if he suddenly starts begging him to hurry the fuck up .
“Can’t harm the merchandise, now can I?” The brunette purrs, fixing him with a hungry stare. The fire in his caramel eyes holds promise and Chuuya finds it hard to look away, even when his back hits his shut bedroom door.
Before he starts bristling once the true meaning of Dazai’s words registers, he gets a mouthful of the Demon Prodigy’s tongue, fucking inside his mouth with admirable ferocity. It darts from one corner to another quicker than he can chase with his own, like Dazai’s imprinting the finest details of his mouth into memory. The kiss steals the breath out of him, forcing him to breathe deeply through his nose before he can die of asphyxiation.
And because it is so like Dazai to be tuned to his thought process, he hefts him further until he’s pinned between him and the door. With his right hand secured on Chuuya’s lower back, his left hand snakes up deftly to wrap around his throat in a loose hold.
“Why don’t I fuck you right here?” Dazai murmurs hotly, his lips brushing against Chuuya’s with every word.
His breath hitches, cock twitching in interest against the confining heat of his pants. He doesn’t know if he’s expected to reply to such an outrageous yet sexy suggestion, can’t think past the static weight of his partner’s hand on his neck.
“Daz-” He starts to growl but the brunet cuts him off midway. His lax hand is suddenly not so lax anymore, cutting off his airflow with one flex of nimble fingers and making him choke on his next breath.
“No need to be feral, Chuuya, I know you’re longing to be filled.” He cooes, relishing in Chuuya’s half-hearted thrashing. There’s something deeply arousing about how they both know that Dazai would be flat on his ass if Chuuya truly wants to get free. For now, they’ll both play their parts.
Dazai doesn’t ease the steady hold over Chuuya’s throat, a mischievous glint in his eyes befitting his title as the feared Demon Prodigy. Chuuya’s brain falters for a moment from the lack of air going up and the abundance of blood going down before he restores a sliver of lucidity.
He brings his right hand up to clasp right below Dazai’s elbow, seizing his momentary confusion to pull him closer.
“If you don’t hurry the fuck up, I’ll fill your useless ass with my shoes.” He growls against his lips, voice raspy from the lack of air, before catching his mouth in another ferocious kiss.
Their tongues dance to the familiar tone of years-old intimacy, lewd sounds escaping his mouth as their lips smack wetly, echoing in the empty hallway. Dazai’s grip slackens distractedly when Chuuya starts sucking on his bottom lip and, being particularly experienced in multitasking during sex, Chuuya takes a deep breath through his nose.
The low moan Dazai lets out vibrates against his lips, sending another wave of arousal throughout his body. Then the brunet pulls back, catching up on the control slipping away from him, Chuuya tries futilely to chase after the intoxicating heat of his mouth but he tightens the hold on his neck again, this time letting him breathe, albeit with some difficulty. Chuuya slams his head back against the door in indignant frustration.
He shoots the brunet a look of pure need and Dazai responds with a breathtaking smile, the heat of the moment simmering in the background for a second while his partner just looks at him.
“What?” Chuuya doesn’t whine.
Dazai shakes his head, the smile still adorning his handsome face.
Chuuya would be lying if he says he doesn’t feel a little self-conscious, being on the receiving end of a probing Demon Prodigy stare that doesn’t appear to have any ulterior motive .
“Hang on tight.” Comes Dazai’s warning before he hefts the redhead up and infinitely closer to his chest. Chuuya hugs him, feeling a dull ache in his chest at the proximity he’s always craved being given to him so easily but with none of the love he envisioned.
Dazai opens the door to his room with one hand, the other resting securely against the center of Chuuya’s back.
The last thought Chuuya has as the door clicks shut behind them is how warm Dazai’s hold is, for someone who is always cold.
“Chuuya-san! Err… What's your cat doing here?”
Chuuya tries not to laugh at the way Tachihara cowers behind Gin the moment he notices Helios in Chuuya’s arms. The redhead tightens his hold on his cat as it hisses at his coworkers, quite viciously.
“I took Helios to the vet for a checkup and didn’t have the time to return him home so I’m leaving him with Elise until the meeting is over.”
“Ha! Good to know!”
“Helios!!” A bolt of messy hair and gangly limbs flies past the Black Lizard teams and into Chuuya’s arms, or more specifically, on his cat. He calmly accepts the enthusiasm, wrapping one arm around Q while shielding Helios from the impact. The deadliest member of the Port Mafia holds their hands out for the cat to nuzzle into, giggling when it purrs contently.
Chuuya smiles.
“Have any missions today?” He asks Q, ignoring the Black Lizard member gawking in the background. They shake their head distractedly, busy rubbing behind Helios’ ears playfully.
“Why don’t you take Helios to Elise and play with him while I meet up with Boss and Ane-san?”
Q turns to him, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. “I can?”
Chuuya nods, placing both on the ground gently. “Just play nice with Elise, okay?”
Q huffs, crossing his arms in childish indignance.
“She’s gonna hog his attention.”
“Well. Helios likes you both so don’t worry about being left out. Plus, she’s just-”
“Chuuya-san, don’t you dare let that cat run loose!” A shrill scream stops him mid-sentence. He looks away from Q to find Helios taking one slow step towards Tachihara, who’s fully hiding behind Gin now.
He blinks at the redhead, unimpressed.
“Why the fuck are you scared of a seven-pound cat?”
“That seven-pound cat almost took my eye out the last time you left it here!” Chuuya’s eye twitches at the way his subordinate refers to his cat, “ and it scratched Kouyou-san!”
Now that’s news to him.
“Helios scratched Ane-san?” He asks, perplexed.
“That’s what you’re worried about?!” Tachihara grumbles but Chuuya doesn’t pay him any mind, distracted.
Chuuya knows some cats are unfriendly, but not his Helios.
His cat loves being petted and purrs at the smallest of touches, not only from Chuuya but also whenever Dazai is around. Q is playing around with him right now and Helios is jumping up and down with joy!
So he always thought Helios was just a friendly cat, but now that he thinks about it, the feline has never warmed up to an adult who wasn’t him or Dazai.
The revelation is a bit like a loose cannon ball landing right on his head.
His cat likes him because he’s his owner, that’s just second nature.
But why does he like Dazai?
The lanky brunet doesn’t feed him, he pays him the least amount of attention possible and he isn’t even around that much.
Or is he?
Chuuya feels a headache forming at the base of his skull as he dazedly makes his way to the elevator, a new question springing up with each step he takes.
“Chuuya, how nice of you to join us.” Mori greets, the fake warmth in his voice overridden by the diabolic image he makes with his hands clasped beneath his chin, eyes sharp as ever.
Chuuya curses Dazai in his head for making him late, taking a seat next to Kouyou.
“I’m sorry, boss, something needed my attention elsewhere.” Mori catches lies like vipers catch their lunch, swift and intense, so Chuuya doesn’t bother feigning honesty, he just hopes the Port Mafia boss doesn’t call him out.
He gets his wish when the raven-haired man smirks, then turns back to Kouyou, who has been oddly silent. Normally by now, she would’ve already made Chuuya want the ground to swallow him whole with just a side glance filled with immeasurable disappointment.
“As I was saying, the search for whoever ensured the sinking of Moby Dick isn’t a priority anymore, Ace is on it and I’d rather we leave him to his own sordid devices.”
Chuuya bristles at the mention of the fellow executive.
“And what’s our current priority?” He asks, feigning disinterest.
“Maintaining the truce with the Armed Detective Agency.” Mori looks directly into his soul as he says it, making Chuuya feel he knows something no one does.
Knowing Mori, he probably does.
A quick look at his mentor tells him she doesn’t like the current Port Mafia agenda.
“And how do we do that?” He asks slowly, dreading the answer.
Mori claps his hands with morbid enthusiasm.
“More joint missions! If we can’t sway Dazai back to our side-” After you drove him away , Chuuya doesn’t say. “-we might as well make use of his brain to get our business done.”
Chuuya stops himself from sighing, resigned but not entirely disappointed.
He’s only human after all, and working with Dazai is- dare he say- fun . To say he’s merely smart would be an injustice to the absolutely riveting experience that is being on Dazai’s team, he thinks, he tries, he plans, he fails, he fixes up then plans again, all in the span of one second then he comes up with the best-case scenario on a silver platter, ready to be executed by Chuuya specifically in mind.
At least, that’s how it used to be before Dazai decided he was better off without Chuuya.
He shakes his head minutely to dispel the dark thoughts then turns his attention back to his boss, who has been watching him closely.
“Any immediate missions? I need to prepare myself to get medicated to pretend he doesn’t exist.”
“Ah, yeah, you are not working with Dazai.”
What?
Mori smirks.
“You’re working with the weretiger, Dazai is getting paired up with Akutagawa as we speak.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Chuuya blurts out without thought. Kouyou spares him a glance out of the corner of her eye.
Dazai and Akutagawa working together is a bigger headache than Chuuya working with Dazai. At least when it’s Chuuya working with Dazai, they can have mind blowing sex afterward.
The redhead mentally prepares himself to take the Akutagawa siblings out for dinner tonight to try and mitigate the damage Dazai will undoubtedly cause to his protege.
“Glad we are in agreement, Chuuya. I’ll send you a mission brief once I hear from Fukuzawa-dono.”
Recognizing a dismissal when he hears one, Chuuya stands up to take his leave, a little relieved that Kouyou was not dismissed alongside him so that he can keep pretending Kouyou isn’t out for his blood a little longer.
“Chuuya, a word, please?”
He curses under his breath. Today is shaping out to be a really bad day.
“I’ll wait for you outside.” He tells his mentor before hightailing out of the meeting room, happy to leave the suffocating atmosphere.
He texts Gin to tell her about dinner plans, then pauses for a second.
Don’t be a dick, please.
He hits send to an unsaved number he knows by heart and tries not to listen to the vicious sound in his head telling him that Dazai is unlikely to listen to him .
“Chuuya.” Kouyou cuts off his self-deprecation before it festers.
He turns to look at her, apprehension clear in his eyes.
“Why were you late?”
“I took Helios for a vet appointment and didn’t have the time to return him so I was looking for someone to keep an eye on him during the meeting.”
His mentor’s expression becomes glacial at the mention of his cat.
“I still think keeping a pet is absurd, especially one as demonic as that cat.”
Chuuya flinches internally, “Tachihara told me he scratched you, I’m sorry about that. He’s awful with new people but once he gets to know you he’s really nice and-”
“Just like he’s nice with Dazai?”
Chuuya almost swallows his tongue.
“What?”
“For some reason, Mori thinks I’m the best choice negotiator with the Armed Detective Agency. It’s interesting how much Dazai can tell you when he wants to assert dominance.”
He feels his heart drop. Just what bits of information did Dazai let loose in his efforts to verbally spar with Kouyou, and why is Chuuya always paying the price for the animosity between them?
“And what exactly did he tell you?” Chuuya asks with an ease of mind he doesn’t have, wanting to get away from his mentor as fast as he can.
Kouyou’s gaze is piercing, and he knows she’s weighing whether she wants to give him a verbal lashing or an easy out.
She opts for the former, in the end.
“You have to remember, Chuuya, trusting Dazai never ends in your favor.”
His hackles rise against his better judgment and he bares his teeth, much like a loyal dog.
“Trusting anyone in this line of work has never ended in my favor, Ane-san, so might as well trust who I want to trust. Now, if you have nothing else to say, I’ll be on my way.”
He turns on his heels and stalks to the elevator, feeling humiliated despite getting the last word in. Just how pathetic is he, laying himself at Dazai’s feet after everything and even clashing with Kouyou over him?
Just how does he still love him?
Kouyou doesn’t try calling him back and he’s thankful, because he can’t take any more surprise revelations today.
Chuuya wakes up to relaxed purring.
Which isn’t weird, Helios is a very expressive cat. When he first got him, he had to google cat sounds and what they meant and then he had to be very careful in how he conducted himself around his cat.
He blinks the sleep away from his eyes, registering the distant pain pulsing through his body at large and in his lower back specifically, then he closes them again at the assault on his retinas.
Early sunlight shines brightly across every surface of his room despite him drawing them tightly shut the night before.
Damn Dazai.
“What do you want, kitty-cat?” The lanky brunet whispers from somewhere close and Chuuya holds his breath to listen. “I don’t know if it’s feeding time for you yet, your dad would kill me if I messed up.”
It’s not feeding time, so Chuuya’s glad he doesn’t have to interfere and strike his partner where he stands, but he likes the gentle tone Dazai uses with the feline so he doesn’t say anything to alert the brunet that he’s awake.
“Oh, you want a belly rub, is that what it is?” Dazai coos, his timbre getting even softer as he lowers himself to his knees. The tone is so alien to Chuuya he opens his eyes in bewilderment, staring at the ceiling.
He can’t see them from the bed but he hears rustling then Helios purring contently, a sound he doesn’t get to hear often.
Why on earth is his cat in love with Dazai?
“Who’s a good boy? You ’re a good boy.” Dazai’s praise sounds downright melodious and Chuuya finds himself blushing, his eyes wide. “I have to assume you’re a boy because Helios is a boy’s name. A cool boy, he used to move the sun! How cool is that?”
Although he’s not an active part of this moment, he wants to encapsulate it and live it forever. He wants to keep hearing Dazai talking so softly, his tone free of ulterior motives and deep-rooted self-hatred.
“You know, it’s funny, Chibi, because Helios is actually the myth that suits you best.”
Chuuya sits up, trying not to feel sheepish about being caught pretending to sleep and meets Dazai’s eyes. Then what he said catches up with him and the momentary peace is promptly shattered.
“Because Helios was discarded the moment another god who could fill his role was born?” He asks.
“That’s factually incorrect, Chibi. Helios was discarded by Zeus because he was in the way of the status quo and Apollo was not so he took his place but they each had their own strength and powers outside the sun.”
Chuuya narrows his eyes, combing a hand through his messy hair to make himself look a little more presentable.
“Helios outlived his purpose.”
Dazai pats Helios’- the cat- head before standing to his full height, walking towards the bed slowly.
“No one outlives their purpose, Chuuya, because that implies that anyone has a purpose. And that’s not why we’re here.”
“Then why are we here?” Chuuya asks, dreading the answer.
The brunet looks away, eyes moving to study the view outside the window, the early-day bustling of a crime-less Yokohama.
“To live,” he shrugs, then turns to look at Chuuya, gaze pinning him in place, “to love.”
Then he looks back out of the window.
“I don’t really know, but I’m trying to find out.”
Chuuya’s heart skips a beat, feeling like he’s on the precipice of a revelation. Suddenly he’s reminded of Kouyou’s ominous warning.
But looking at Dazai’s face as he watches the clouds move in the distance, a childlike curiosity lighting up the brown of his eyes, he finds it hard not to give him his heart on a silver platter.
Because this is the Dazai he knows, the Dazai he fell in love with.
This is the fifteen year-old who wanted to stay at the docks all night to see just how ships unloaded their cargo, the same fifteen year-old who stopped by a lonely ramen stand to try every type of broth because he didn’t have a favorite and he desperately wanted to.
For the Port Mafia, Dazai is the demon prodigy, a ruthless mastermind that moved people like pieces on a chessboard in all the ways that suited him, not caring one bit about the consequences- not because he was negligent- but because he embraced the outcome no matter how gruesome.
For the Armed Detective Agency, Dazai is their best detective, a true genius with an almost obsessive goal of saving everyone he can, even if it’s at the expense of his own life. He’s an eccentric colleague who talks about death like an old friend, and welcomes it with open arms.
For Chuuya, Dazai is his best friend. He is someone who grew up around Chuuya’s edges, fitting himself around him like an annoying octopus that wouldn’t let go. He is the child so alienated from his identity that he depended on Chuuya to help him uncover it.
Long nights staring at the ceiling in the run-down apartment Mori gave them, talking about their favorite things- or what they wanted to be their favorite things. Gruesome fights where Dazai’s touch was the only thing tethering him to his humanity, despite the name of his ability. Days ghosting Mori while they goofed off at arcades with Hirotsu exasperatedly watching them as they made a scene, clinging stubbornly to the last vestiges of a childhood they didn’t get to live.
“Wanna have breakfast?” The brunet cuts off his train of thought, suddenly closer than he was a minute ago, staring owlishly at Chuuya with his face a few inches away.
Chuuya blinks, face coloring at the proximity before he nods mutely.
Dazai smiles.
He keeps looking at him, searching his eyes for something unknown to Chuuya before placing a featherlight peck on his lips then moving away.
By the time Chuuya gets back his ability to breathe, Dazai is already tinkering in the kitchen.
It’s the first time Dazai initiates contact outside of sex.
Chuuya does a double-take, thinking he may have heard wrong.
“You don’t… You don’t want to?”
Dazai’s expression is enigmatic and he refuses to meet the redhead’s eyes.
“Why don’t we just sit here and…” He trails off, looking around Chuuya’s living room as if he’ll find clues for what he wants. “Ah! Play Tetris!”
Chuuya stops taking off his glove mid-finger, turning a laser gaze onto his ex-partner. Dazai is looking at anything but him, hands fiddling in a rare show of nervousness.
“Of all the games you could think of?”
“It just brings back memories, doesn’t it?”
Chuuya is silent for a second, trying to parse what is going through Dazai’s head.
“Okay.” He shrugs, leaning down to take off his boots.
“Oh and I told Akutagawa good job today! He stopped breathing for a second there but luckily he didn’t die or anything.” The brunet is so excited as he tells Chuuya, like a dog wagging his tail as he waits for praise.
“That’s nice of you, thanks.” Chuuya smiles genuinely. Dazai seems distracted for a second before he shakes his head as if to clear it.
“Come sit with me for a second?” He pats the spot next to him on the sofa with one hand while the other keeps caressing Helios, who Chuuya is just noticing.
His cat is sleeping soundly on Dazai’s lap.
“How did you get Helios to sleep on you?” He asks as he pads his way to the pair soundlessly.
Dazai chuckles, leaning back as Chuuya gingerly takes a seat next to him.
Studying the brunet as he tells him an embellished story about how Helios loves him more than he does Chuuya, the redhead can’t help but notice how oddly relaxed Dazai seems in a zone that’s always been Chuuya’s alone.
He finds himself wondering how long it’s been this way and he just hasn’t noticed.
“Yeah, yeah, keep talking like that and I might just send him to live with you.” Chuuya scoffs, relaxing back into the sofa and bringing his knees to his chest as he sits sideways to give Dazai his full attention.
“Nah, part of Helios’ charm is that he’s your cat.” Dazai says wistfully, turning away from Chuuya.
“So you want me to come with him?”
He’s teasing. He doesn’t know where it came from but the words leave his mouth before he could think them through. He’s ready to take them back before Dazai scoffs and says something thoughtless that will inevitably break his heart but Dazai beats him to it.
He turns, his eyes suddenly filled with fire. Chuuya recognizes this look, it’s the same look he had when they were out trying every ramen type under the sun at fuck o’clock in the morning when Dazai had just come across the type he’d decided would be his favorite until the day he dies.
It’s the look he has when he’s sure exactly what he wants. And Chuuya has only seen this look once.
“What if I do?”
Chuuya looks away from the intense gaze, his heart jumping but he doesn’t want to let his mind wander. It’s better if he douses out the flame while it’s flickering before Dazai hoses it down with ages-old apathy.
“What if you do what?” He asks quietly, a childish attempt to scare Dazai into derailing that line of conversation by making him go into detail.
“What if I want you with me?”
It’s Dazai they’re talking about. He doesn’t get derailed, and he’s never a part of a conversation he can’t steer.
Chuuya feels vulnerable all of a sudden, he twists his legs and puts them on the floor, ready to get up and get himself a glass of wine.
He doesn’t get far.
He looks down at Dazai’s hand clasping his wrist surely, his stare intent.
“I don’t know what you’re playing a-”
“I love you.”
The candid tone, so rare to hear from the demon prodigy, brings tears to Chuuya’s eyes.
“No, you don’t.”
Hurt flashes across brown eyes but Dazai doesn’t let go.
“I do. And I know you do too. It’s because I know you do that I’m telling you. I don’t want to keep you in the dark about something like this.”
Chuuya falls back into the sofa, startling Helios into getting off Dazai’s lap.
“This is a really bad joke, Dazai.”
“But it’s not!” He pulls Chuuya’s hand closer, placing it upon his chest. Chuuya can feel his heart thumping through the sheer material of his shirt. Chuuya meets his gaze slowly, searching for a hint of deceit.
He’s terrified, because he’s never been able to tell when he’s the butt of Dazai’s joke.
“I love you. And there are so many reasons why you won’t believe me, but I want you to give me the chance to show you.” The brunet’s eyes are filling with tears while Chuuya’s eyes are overflowing.
“Chuuya, let me love you.”
He’s lost in the eyes of the man he loves, feeling like he’s seeing him for the first time. He doesn’t know how long he keeps staring but Dazai lets him and maybe it’s a small testament. Because Dazai doesn’t like being looked at, he once told Chuuya his greatest fear is to be perceived, because he’s sure whatever image he forms in one’s eye, it’s the farthest thing from the truth.
But he’s letting Chuuya look at him. He’s letting his gaze linger on skin he’s kissed a hundred times before, eyes that felt like his anchor, lips that mapped every inch of his body.
A soft thump against his leg makes him look down to find Helios nudging his head towards where Dazai’s sitting and though Helios is really too small to make any impact, it fills Chuuya’s heart with warmth.
“What does that entail?”
He looks back at Dazai, catching the tail-end of a wink his ex-partner is throwing at his cat.
He chokes out a laugh.
Dazai smiles through his tears, “I don’t know, I didn’t get this far in my plan.”
Chuuya shakes his hand off, poking him with a finger accusingly.
“You expect me to believe you didn’t plan this ten steps ahead?”
The brunet wraps a hand around his finger, bringing it up to his lips. Chuuya squirms in his seat as Dazai brushes a kiss against the tip of his finger.
“Your bedroom is currently bathing in roses actually, and I made dinner reservations at your favorite French restaurant. I also may have gotten three different colors of your preferred brand of silly hats for your collection.”
“I thought you wanted to play Tetris.”
“Is it so hard to believe I just want to exist here in the same plane as you, without the tiring affair of heart-stopping sex?”
Chuuya blushes before snatching his hand back.
“You did all of that for me?” He asks, resenting how small his voice sounds.
Dazai’s sheepish expression morphs into a gentle smile, foreign on his handsome face but not unwelcome.
“And I want to do more, if you’ll let me. I love you.”
The redhead looks away, heart pounding at the firm statement.
“I can wait for as long as it takes, Chibi, all I need is your permission.”
For the first time since Chuuya knew Dazai, he feels in control. Dazai being in control constantly isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because Chuuya trusts him with his life, but being handed that trust in return will never not fascinate Chuuya.
While Chuuya is fine with following Dazai, going at his pace, Dazai has never felt safe enough following anyone, the world never allowed him to.
“Okay.” He doesn’t expect what one single word can do to his partner, his face lifting in a way he’s never seen before.
“Okay?” The brunet asks once again, hands holding Chuuya’s shoulders tightly.
Chuuya nods, a smile creeping up on his face. “Okay.”
And for the first time since Chuuya can remember, he’s being embraced.
It’s weird, how safe you can feel trapped in someone’s arms, how warm you can be as you feel your heart beating against theirs, how their hair tickles your ear like sunshine falling on grass for the first time after the rain, how their arms wrap around your shoulders, anchoring you to the earth instead of allowing you to float aimlessly.
Chuuya lets the tears roll freely as he hugs Dazai back, feeling, for the first time, like he has a home.