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“You know, if you were taller you could probably hold your alcohol better.” Dazai pauses, tilting his head to the side, his good eye fixing him with a thoughtful look. “Have you considered growing?” Chuuya flings his coaster at Dazai. It hits the wall next to his head, a full foot away from him.
“Fuck you.” He snarls, glaring at his partner which is pretty hard to do when there seem to be two of him floating in front of his eyes. The thought of two Dazais’ existing in the world is enough for him to let his head fall onto the table with a solid thunk and groan.
“Oh, are we being open about our feelings now?” Dazai is obnoxiously cheerful for someone like Chuuya, who is well on his way to being drunk. “Chuuya, I’m flattered!” Weakly, the smaller man lifts his head up.
“Seriously Dazai- fuck you.” He repeats. “You are just the worst sort of person.”
Dazai shrugs. “Maybe, but at least I can hold my liquor.”
Chuuya bristles and sputters while Dazai takes a dainty sip of his drink. He’s debating whether or not it would be worth it to waste his drink by throwing it at Dazai when the other speaks again. “Use your words Chuuya. You can do it, I believe in you.”
It’s totally worth it, he decides, and in one quick motion has tossed the contents of his glass at his partner. Except maybe he’s a little more drunk than he thought and his fingers and reflexes aren’t as fully operational as he had hoped, and maybe he ends up dropping the glass halfway through the throw and most of its’ contents end up on top of the table and on him.
With a yowl, Chuuya leaps up from his chair and out of the way of the alcohol that’s spreading across the table. Dazai, far more composed, calmly waves off the people that are looking at them. “We’re fine; just had a little spill.” He says with an easy smile, and the two are left in peace. To Chuuya, he shakes his head and sighs. “I can’t take you anywhere nice, can I?”
The redhead opens his mouth, but the taller man cuts him off. “I know, I know- fuck me.” A wad of napkins is handed to him. “Now clean up your mess.”
“I’m not a child.” Chuuya mutters, very much aware that he sounds like a pouting five year old. Obidently, he takes the napkins that Dazai is holding and beings to wipe down the table with far more force than strictly necessary. “And thanks for the napkins.” He says, only it’s more aggressive than thankful and he’s not entirely sure he means it.
It doesn’t matter, because Dazai snorts in response and then stands up, tossing a few bills on a dry part of the table. “C’mon, let’s get you home-your clothes are dirty and you’re about one shot away from being too drunk to walk, and I refuse to carry you back to your apartment.”
He’s walking out the door before Chuuya can voice any protest, so he’s left with no choice but to scurry along after his partner, cursing under his breath.
It’s not a long walk from the bar to his apartment, and he’s like, 75 percent sure that Dazai won’t abandon him to walk home alone if only because he doesn’t want to deal with a lost, pissed, hungover Chuuya in the morning. He’s perfectly content to walk back in silence, but fate has never been fond of letting him get his way in life.
“You drank more than you normally do.” Dazai’s voice is quiet and soft, and Chuuya really doesn’t want to have this conversation right now.
“So what?” He grunts, and hopes that his asshole of a partner will let the issue drop.
It’s Dazai, so of course he can’t get his way. “So something’s bothering you. Not that I care, but it is pretty obvious.”
“Is there a question in there, or are you just being an ass?”
“Don’t make me come out and say it.” Dazai lets out a long suffering sigh. “Chuuya. My better half. My precious partner. What is it that ails you so?”
If he was sure he wouldn’t fall over, he would’ve kicked Dazai, but instead settles for a noncommittal grunt. “ ‘s nothing.”
“Which means it’s something.” Dazai counters, and Chuuya is too drunk for this.
“Drop it, Dazai.” He groans, and picks up his pace hoping the other will get the hint.
“Are you mad at me because I ignored you today in favor of Akutagawa?” Comes the sly question behind him, and Chuuya nearly trips over his own two feet in surprise. “Aww, Chuuya, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“Bastard!” He hisses, face flushing in the moonlight. Dazai laughs, his head falling back and his silhouette catches against the moon. “You have no proof of that.”
“I don’t need proof when you’re going to react so obviously.”
“Well then, why don’t you fuck off and go spend time with your precious pet who is so much more mysterious than me!” He snaps, making to stomp off.
“Chuuya.” It’s only his name, and it’s not particularly forceful, but it is enough to make the redhead stop.
“Idiot.” There’s something that sounds suspiciously like fondness in the taller man’s voice, and then there’s a weight on his shoulder and Dazai is standing right next to him, closer than he really needs to be. “Akutagawa may be my student, but you’re still my partner.” A smirk that could very well be a smile-it’s hard to tell in the moonlight, and Chuuya’s pretty drunk. “Lucky me, I suppose.”
Dazai’s arm is warm on his shoulders and he is a little bit tipsy, so he allows it to stay there, if only to keep him steady, as his partner walks him home. “Yeah, lucky you.”