Chapter Text
Let it happen (where Dazai got that zaza)
The nights in Port Mafia were long, tiring and smelled like cheap booze mixed with cigarettes. Dazai hated them. Whenever he had to go out because the mafia held some sort of event, and obviously as one of Mori’s favorites he had to attend every annual party, he got high. That way, everything was a tiny bit more enduring.
He never told Chuuya about this, hell not even Oda knew.
Sometimes he suspected Mori found out about his little hack but since he never confronted him and Dazai never embarrassed himself, he probably just let it slide.
Dazai was forever thankful for that, because tonight, he had to show up at another stinking, gluey, vile bar and pretend to have fun, at least until everyone got drunk enough.
Except today, he had a personal company. Double Black quickly made quite the name for themselves, so obviously people expected to see both the young prodigy and the gravity manipulator. It was ridiculous, really.
Dazai nervously fiddled with his lighter, he was sitting on a bench in front of his container of a house, playing with thoughts. Chuuya has never seen him high, he made sure of that. He was certain the older boy would notice and not let him sleep about it, let alone blow his secret and snitch to Mori or Ane-san.
Like Mori wouldn’t give two fucks, again, however, Ane-san wouldn’t let him near Chuuya ever again. He didn’t want that, no matter how annoying his short partner was.
Finally, he came up with two options – either he gets high in advance, waits till the high wears off and spends the rest of the night at least slightly light-headed, or he gets Chuuya high too. If the second plan works out, Chuuya would have to keep his mouth shut.
The only issue with the latter option? He never so much as talked about smoking with someone. He wasn’t quite sure how these things worked for other people. Chuuya was a pain in his ass, but he didn’t want to spend the night making sure he’s okay.
Trips are a thing. Dazai experienced it all. The mere thought of Chuuya losing control because he couldn’t stay sober was making all his hair stand.
Fuck. He couldn’t afford that risk. So Dazai put on his least dirty shirt, tied a loose tie around his neck and got himself to the club.
Unclenching his jaw, he stepped inside. It was a little after 11 PM, the loud country music from cheap stereos immediately deafening him for a second, as he blinked and adjusted his eyes to the bright neon lights flickering through the room, he finally made his way to the bar.
Few low-ranking members greeted him on the way, occasionally trying to make polite small talk, but Dazai wasn’t having any of that. Not smoking that joint was the worst decision he’s made. Flipping his phone open, he texted Oda, asking where he was.
Odasaku: Not comin Mri didm’t incite meh :( stayin ocer @ Anho’s :))
Great. His only friends were drinking together at Ago’s place. Of course they were. Dazai had enough of this “who’s not high-ranking cannot come” bullshit. Tonight couldn’t get any worse.
Dazai was inside for mere 15 minutes but already managed to get half the bottle of rum inside of his slim body. He had terrible alcohol tolerance and was good 12 if not more shots in, the bartender kept on refilling his glass, counting drinks with a bright smile.
Of course she’s happy, Dazai’s going to spend half his paycheck here tonight.
Or he’s going to put the bill on Mori. If he had a death wish.
What he could do is write it on certain short mafia soon-to-be-executive. He wasn’t showing up, had plenty of money apparently, judging from the expensive clothes and fancy wine he liked, and hey, what harm could it do to tease his partner a tiny bit.
He finished the bottle an hour later. The world was spinning and Dazai finally felt less itchy all over his body. He also had to pee, like so bad. He got up, legs nearly forgetting to support his weight and the black-haired bartender immediately hurried over.
“Hey! What about the bill?” She shouted over the loud music.
Dazai rolled his eyes, internally to not provoke her.
“Why don’t we write it on my friend?” He slurred drunkenly. He was so fucked, he realized.
“Huh?! And is he gonna pay?” She frowned, clearly not trusting a word he said.
“Your temper reminds me of him so much” Dazai muttered to himself, if she heard was in the stars.
“Well you gotta tell me your friend's name” She took a little paper and was ready to write down
“Nakahara Chuuya” Dazai drawled his name in such an unnecessary way, but what did it matter. The bartender just scrunched her nose, already being called over by a bunch of impatient drunkards.
“If this Nakahara dude doesn’t show up to pay in the next 24 hours, I will let Mori-san know personally!” She growled, shooting Dazai a glare over her shoulder as she hurried over to the other customers.
Dazai needed to keep his reputation in check, so making sure Chuuya pays was added to the mental list of tasks to do tonight.
Now first lever priority – emptying his poor bladder. Once he made his way to the bathroom, he mentally cringed. Odds were, he’s going to walk in on a passionate couple, vomiting wreck or guys trying to sell overprized drugs.
How disgusting, how boring.
He opened the door and was surprised to see no one. Empty toilets were a pleasant surprise, so he quickly emptied his aching bladder and made his way back, only to bump into someone right in the door.
That person was a guy roughly his age, hurrying inside one of the stalls.
“Fucking move out of the way!” The person behind the first guy snarled and pushed himself past Dazai to check up on his friend.
Except the voice was way too familiar. And Dazai was tipsy as a little toddler so the push was enough to make him lose his balance.
Before his body hit the floor, a pair of strong arms caught him.
Dazai lazily looked up to see the bathroom light creating some sort of halo around his head with ginger curls, the scent of the guy’s cologne one Dazai would recognize everywhere.
“Chuuya?” The world came out way too sluggishly and his short partner briefly paused and widened his eyes slightly at the sight in his arms.
“Dazai?” He had thousand questions written over his face but was cut off by a distant voice.
“That’s so nice you guys know each other’s names and all but like Chuuya could you give me a hand here?” He managed to say that all in one breath before puking, and Chuuya grimaced before turning to help the poor guy.
“I’ll meet you out in front of the entrance in 15, okay?” He murmured before disappearing into one of the stalls.
“Fine” Dazai replied even though Chuuya couldn’t possibly catch that.
He had time for a quick drink to top the bill.