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Nakahara Chuuya is suffering.
He's suffered through a long day of work, complete with Akutagawa's incoherent grumbling and senseless destruction of walls (seriously, they just got fixed last week) and Elise tugging on the end of his black coat asking Hey hey, Mr. Fancy Hat, got any sweets?
He is done. So, so done. All he wanted after that ordeal was to go for a peaceful drink at his favorite bar, and who should he find there but Dazai Osamu, his old partner, a suicide freak, the most annoying person he has ever had the misfortune to know - and above everything, drunk as hell.
Why do bad things happen to good people, Chuuya wondered miserably as Dazai twitched, mumbling incoherent sentences as he's sprawled on top of the shorter man. At this point he's leaned so far off his barstool that Chuuya considers jerking sharply to the other side to make Dazai fall to the ground in a heap (oh, how he wants to see that), but because they're in public and Chuuya runs the risk of getting flattened himself, he wrestles his impulses under control and orders another drink.
"Chuuya," Dazai groaned, burrowing his face into the crook of his neck. Chuuya, grumbling several obscenities, jabbed the dark-haired man in the ribs, electing to ignore him - if Dazai is unbearable when he's sober, Chuuya doesn't even want to think about dealing with him drunk. He just wants to finish his drink and get out of here. Chuuya took a sip of his scotch, the burn of the alcohol offering a small solace from the absolute torture he was being put through.
He manages to ignore Dazai for a grand total of one minute, twenty seconds before Dazai whines "Chuuya," again, this time louder and more insistently. The detective breathed in deeply, pushing urgently against Chuuya's neck. The mafia member sucked in a deep breath through his nose and let it out loudly through his mouth, mentally preparing himself before turning his head and snapping, "What."
Dazai giggles like a prepubescent schoolgirl, shifting so that his golden eyes peer up cheekily from his perch on Chuuya’s shoulder. “You smell gooood~”
Chuuya’s cheeks blaze in mortification, and he shoves Dazai off his seat, snarling, “Don’t smell me, you fucking-”
“But you smell good,” Dazai complained, climbing up from the floor and draping himself like an extremely obnoxious black cat all over Chuuya again.
Dazai breathes in again, and it takes all of Chuuya’s self control not to sock him in the face. “I said- ”
“I heeeard you,” Dazai slurs, nuzzling at Chuuya. “Heard you tell me… in that pretty voice of yours.”
“ What?! ” Chuuya’s definitely blushing now, and he scrambles to attribute it to the heavy heat in the bar, and the fact that Dazai was warm, so warm, and oh, it’d been so long since he’d-
Stop. Chuuya smacked Dazai on the crown of his head to halt that dangerous train of thought.
“Oww,” Dazai complained, raising his head again to peer at Chuuya. He stared for quite a while before breaking out into that lazy grin of his.
“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” Dazai crowed, reaching out to squish Chuuya’s cheeks. “You get so red… and you won’t look at me… though I guess you kind of can’t , since you’re so short....” Dazai broke off into horrible, cackling laughter, and Chuuya clenched his jaw, wishing he were religious so he would have some god to pray to, before Dazai continued.
“You’re always cute… you know… you’ve got such a cute face… pretty blue eyes… like… like… the ocean or somethin’... and you- your voice is so nice… and… you…” Dazai paused, considering, searching for the words that evaded him. “Aha! an’ you smell good~” he finally finished, looking at Chuuya in a way that might have been considered suave five shots ago, batting his eyes.
“I- You-” Chuuya was honestly at a loss for words. His enemy, his self proclaimed terrible rival, drooling on his jacket and waxing poetic about how his eyes were “like the ocean or something”. Normally, he'd be laughing his ass off, maybe even recording it, but the insanity of the situation rendered him speechless.
“I miiiiss you,” Dazai sighed dreamily. “I miss you, paaaartner…. I want- I want-”
“I know,” Chuuya cut him off, a feeling of solemnity descending over him. He paused for several seconds before deciding there was no way Dazai would remember this in the morning, and admitting: “Me too.”
Dazai detached himself in a way that was surprisingly meticulous for someone so drunk, and rested his elbows on the bar table, gazing seriously at Chuuya.
The two of them stared at each other in silence, waiting.
Then Dazai's hand darted out, quick as lightning, to snag Chuuya’s glass and down the rest of his drink.
“ You absolute shit- ”