Work Text:
Dazai Osamu was walking back to his apartment, when he noticed a boy laying on the rough ground, naked with some cuts all around his body.
Dazai Osamu hurried towards the boy, his heart pounding with worry. He knelt beside the boy, studying his wounds. They seemed to be mostly superficial, but there was a deep gash on his forehead that was bleeding profusely. Dazai quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around the boy, trying to stem the flow of blood.
"Hey," Dazai said gently, "Can you hear me? Are you okay?"
The boy groaned softly, and his eyes fluttered open. Dazai was struck by their intense blue color, like the sky on a clear day.
"What happened to you?" Dazai asked, trying to keep the boy conscious.
The boy's breathing was shallow, and he looked so small and fragile lying there on the dirty ground.
"I don't know," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I was just walking home from school, and then something hit me, and everything went black."
Dazai's heart felt cold. "Did somebody touch you...?" Dazai's voice were quiet and soothing. The boy shook his head weakly. "I don't remember," he said, wincing in pain. Dazai could feel anger welling up inside him. Who would do something like this to a young boy? He gently lifted the boy into his arms, ignoring the protests of pain coming from the boy.
"Don't worry," Dazai said softly, "I'll take care of you."
The boy's head lolled against Dazai's chest, and Dazai could feel the weight of the world settle onto his shoulders. As he walked towards his apartment, Dazai couldn't shake off the feeling of anger and protectiveness that had taken hold of him. He would find out who did this to the boy, and make them pay.
Once they reached his apartment, Dazai placed the boy gently onto his bed, taking great care not to hurt him further. He quickly went to work, cleaning and dressing the boy's wounds. The boy was too weak to speak, but Dazai could see the gratitude in his eyes. As he worked, he found himself becoming more and more attached to the boy. He had never felt this way before, but it was as if the boy had become a part of him.
Dazai stayed up all night, keeping vigil by the boy's bedside. As the hours ticked by, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful the boy was, even in his battered state. His skin was smooth and unblemished, and his body was slender and delicate.
Dazai's thoughts began to wander to places they shouldn't have. He had always been attracted to beauty, but this was different. He knew he shouldn't feel this way about the boy, but he couldn't help it.
As the morning light began to filter in through the window, the boy stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Dazai with a small smile on his lips.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but strong. Dazai couldn't help but smile back at him. "You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "I'm just glad you're okay."
The boy's smile widened, and Dazai's heart fluttered. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way, but he couldn't help it. He was drawn to the boy, drawn to his beauty and his vulnerability.
As the days passed, Dazai found himself becoming more and more entwined with the boy. He nursed him back to health, and they spent hours talking and laughing together. Dazai found himself opening up to the boy in ways he never had with anyone else. But he knew he couldn't act on his feelings. The boy was too young, too innocent. He couldn't risk hurting him, or scarring him in any way. So he kept his feelings to himself, burying them deep within his heart.
But as the weeks turned into months, and the boy grew stronger and more confident, Dazai found that his feelings for him only grew stronger. He couldn't bear the thought of being without him, of letting him go.
One night, as they lay in bed together, Dazai found himself unable to resist any longer. He leaned in and pressed his lips to the boy's, his heart racing with fear and desire. To his relief, the boy responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Dazai's shoulders and pulling him closer. Their kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and desperate. Dazai's hands roamed over the boy's body, caressing him gently, feeling the softness of his skin. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he just couldn't help it.
As they finally pulled apart, gasping for breath, Dazai knew that he had crossed a line that he could never uncross. He knew that he would never be able to let the boy go.
Soon after that night, the boy moved into Dazai's apartment. They spent their days together, Dazai educating the boy about the world around them, and the boy telling him stories of his adventures at school.
Dazai began to fall deeply in love with the boy, but he was also aware that he was taking advantage of him. He had no job, no money, nothing to offer him, but that didn't matter. He was determined to make sure that the boy was happy and safe.
The boy loved him too, and soon it became difficult to hide his feelings from the other residents of the apartment building. They all knew that the boy had moved into Dazai's apartment, and Dazai could hear them gossiping about them behind his back. Most of them didn't approve of their relationship, and Dazai knew that he couldn't live like that forever.
One night, Dazai sat the boy down and told him everything. He told him about the way he had felt when he first met him, about how he had fallen in love with him when he was in his most vulnerable state. He told him about how he had felt like he was betraying the boy by not telling him about it sooner.
The boy just smiled, and told him not to worry. He told him that he loved him too, and that he would never leave him.
They moved to a different apartment, one where they wouldn't be judged for their relationship.
They lived happily together, and they spent their time growing closer and closer.
But soon enough, they had to face the harsh reality of the outside world. The boy's parents had been searching for him for months, and they eventually tracked him down to Dazai's apartment. They told the boy that they had left him because he was too weak, that they had left him for his own good. They told him that he had to go back with them if he wanted to be happy.
But the boy refused to go with them. He told them that he loved Dazai, that he would live with him for as long as he wanted. He told them that they could shove their ideas of what was best for him right up their asses.
They tried to force the boy to go with them, but Dazai was ready for them. He wasn't going to lose the boy now that he had finally gained his trust, his love.
The boy's parents were furious, and they held the boy down while Dazai tried to fight them off. But the boy's parents were too strong, and with a shove, Dazai found himself being thrown to the ground.
As he lay there, Dazai could only watch as the boy was ripped from his arms and dragged back to his parents' home, leaving Dazai broken and damaged.
He felt numb and broken inside, and he knew that he would never be able to mend his broken heart.
He loved the boy, but he had only pushed him away. And now, he would never have the chance to tell him that.