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In hindsight, Dazai had predicted all of it perfectly. The port mafia had a new assassin recruit, so it was natural Mori would send her to kidnap him as a sort of… test. Dazai was certain the last one sent after him was dead in a ditch somewhere, yet this was the perfect opportunity. With Odasaku’s words echoing in his head, getting kidnapped would be the perfect way to slip into the port mafia’s head quarters unnoticed and steal the drive housing the source of the bounty held over Atsushi.
Regardless of what others might say, Dazai was a changed man, so he let himself be kidnapped and restrained in the headquarter’s basement.
He went through the plan methodically: Get kidnapped, let Akutagawa rough him up to remove any immediate suspicions of his motive, steal the drive and lay low until things blow over. It was virtually fool proof, with the brunette having done this several times in the past. He predicted it would take at most 5 days, give or take; and so Dazai let himself be taken as prisoner by the Port Mafia, posing as a wolf in sheep's clothing.
What he obviously didn't predict was… Chuuya, but then again, his brain usually did short-circuit around the fiery red head. Handcuffed to the wall, he couldn't help but count the freckles on the red head’s (adorable little) nose, resisting the urge to free his hands and cup the only face which forced him to feel. This wasn’t how they were supposed to meet again, as Dazai was quite content to stare at his (former) partner from a distance for the rest of his (hopefully) short life. He understood he was unlovable, plagued with such luck that made certain anyone who got too close would suffer a terrible fate. Yet staring into those beautiful blue eyes struck him with a longing so visceral, so blinding that he found himself wanting to tuck his pretty little Chuuya inside his pocket. Dazai wanted to keep him there forever, all safe and sound and away from the claws of Arahabaki.
“Are you done staring?”
Is the first thing Chuuya said to him in exactly 4 years, 3 months and 5 days. Oh how much he missed his voice, Dazai suddenly found himself unable to breathe. He wanted to bottle up his voice and listen to it on repeat again and again and again.
He fought to compose himself, trying to come up with an audible response. Chuuya’s eyebrow raised as the brunette took a second too long to respond to his rhetorical question.
“Do I make you nervous, Chuuya?”
Elongating the redhead’s name, Dazai fought the urge to laugh as his slug’s face went red with rage, exactly the intended reaction he was looking for.
It all happened in a blink. Suddenly he was free and being blasted back into the dry wall by a flash of orange. Dazai fought to regain his balance as he let himself be pinned to the now crumbling concrete wall by a strong grip he was all too familiar with.
“Why did you let yourself get caught? What are you playing at here bastard!”
Chuuya snarled, his hold tightening around Dazai’s neck.
“Oh wouldn't you like to kno-”
He got cut off as the redhead delivered a blow to his stomach. For someone like Chuuya, the punch was surprisingly soft, only serving to shut the brunette up.
He needed to end this, Dazai realised, he needed to end this before he decided to beg Chuuya to leave with him; to leave the port mafia for good and move together to a distant, faraway town, maybe even a distant, faraway country. The redhead had probably figured out his motive, his affinity for the weretiger was quite well known after the ADA’s recent altercation with Hirotsu. Thus the brunette found himself rearranging his priorities. Forget the drive, he needed to get as far away from Chuuya as possible, before he did something he would regret, before he could convince himself to start hoping again.
“Unlike what you might think, I am only human. I make mistakes too. Now if you would excuse me, I'll be seeing myself ou-”
“You're not going anywhere”
Well, it was worth a try.
“I wonder what Mori would say after he realises Chuuya of all people is helping me break out. How heroic and kind of you-”
Dazai was completely bluffing, of course. His slug always had been so easy to provoke.
“I’M NOT HELPING YOU BASTARD-”
“can you stop cutting me off-”
“CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR ONCE-”
Suddenly twisting Chuuya around, Dazai reversed their positions. He figured he had rendered Chuuya speechless, his face growing increasingly red for an entirely different reason. He smiled as he caressed his partner’s nape, Chuuya surprisingly not making any move to stop him.
“You’re all bark and no bite, chibi”
Dazai said fondly, feeling the slug’s pulse fluttering beneath his fingertips. What came out of Chuuya’s mouth next, however, was quite unexpected.
“I thought you were dead”
5 barely audible words that carried more weight than anything else. The brunette felt his heart crack with Chuuya’s voice. The useless organ thumped erratically as he struggled to say something, anything, to make things right, to take the pain away from the only person who understood him. Dazai felt his throat swell with an unfamiliar emotion as he fought with himself to respond, to say anything-
“Leave.”
“What-”
“Leave. Don’t come back. You’re happier there.”
With that, Chuuya untangled himself from the brunette and walked away with what was left of his heart. Dazai suddenly found the distance to be too much. Feeling his heart swell and contract, he wanted to scream but the stupid lump of emotion in his throat stopped him from doing so, he wanted to run after Chuuya and tell him- tell him that he never left, that he had been visiting him nearly every week- nearly every day since he left, holding his hand through the night, allowing him temporary reprieves from the burden of his ability.
He wanted to tell Chuuya that he entered his apartment everyday, terrified of not seeing him there, terrified of finding out he had used corruption and Arabahaki had finally burned through what was left of his humanity. He wanted to tell his Chibi so much but he was gone and they would never speak like this again, the brunette would have to remain content with seeing Chuuya’s peaceful face every night, knowing he was so close yet so far away. It was for the best. Dazai kept repeating the mantra; it was for the best, it was for the best, it was for the best-
—————————————————————————————
A week later, the first thing Dazai notices as he enters Chuuya’s penthouse is how messy it is. Clothes are strewn all over the floor, alcohol bottles litter every possible surface from the kitchen’s Island to the coffee table in the far corner. The crimson curtains, once exposing Yokohama’s skyline, are closed shut, bathing the floor in darkness save for a faint glow emanating from the opened refrigerator, which was filled to the brim with bottles of red wine. A small hand poked out the side of the island. In a flash, The brunette found himself darting there. What did his slug get into this time?
Dazai crouched in front of the red head passed out on the floor, who was still in his work clothes, clutching a bottle of wine spilled out around his hair. He tucked chuuya’s head into his lap, wiping the drool from his mouth. Worry gnawed at his insides when the redhead didn’t so much as stir. Had Mori ordered him to use corruption again? Dazai couldn't see any visible marks on the red head’s face and hands, yet he couldn't stop himself from conjuring up vivid images of how he’d torture Mori for hurting his precious Chuuya. He would elongate the doctor’s suffering, make him apologise to Chuuya and beg until all that would be left of him was a shell of the monster he used to be. That was a sight Dazai fantasised about quite often, and if the port mafia’s leader really did turn out to be the cause of Chuuya’s predicament, he would make sure to stay true to the threat, consequences be damned.
Realising he had been lost in thought, the brunette raked his fingers through the chibi’s soft, messy hair one last time before moving to pick him up. Resting Chuuya’s head on his shoulders, he was easier to pick up than he remembered. Just how much weight had he lost? Judging by the amount of wine bottles piling up, Dazai didn't think the slug had anything of nutritional value. He made a mental note to order some soup as he carried the chibi to the bathroom.
Turning on the light and setting him down on his lap, he worked at undressing him, taking off his coat followed by his gloves. Dazai lingered at his hands, tracing his fingers with his own as he fought the urge to kiss his Chibi’s delicate fingers, at which point the red head began to stir.
Chuuya slowly opened his eyes, taking in the water running into the bathtub before his pupils zeroed in on the brunette. They both stared at each other for a moment as Dazai tried to work out how to handle his (now awake) partner.
“….Osamu?”
“Hey Chibi, how do you feel?”
There was a slight pause. A hitch in the red head’s breath. Before-
“Are you real?”
Chuuya moved to touch his cheek. Dazai ignored his question.
“I’m going to undress you now, could you sit up for me?”
Chuuya snorted softly. The lightweight was certainly still drunk.
“Yeah, you're definitely not real,” Chuuya mused as his fingers traced a messy path down he brunette’s cheek. Dazai slowly slipped off Chuuya’s dress shirt and pants, keeping his gaze pointedly upward as he helped his slug get in the steaming bath. The redhead appeared quite convinced he was dreaming as he continued to cling to Dazai’s arms. He saw a flash of panic in his slug’s eyes as he attempted to move out of reach.
“No wait- where are you going!”
“Chuuy-,” the redhead enveloped in him a bear bug, cutting off his air supply as Dazai rubbed his back in soothing motions to try and get him to loosen his hold-
“I didn't know Chuuya missed me that much~”, Dazai said with a teasing lilt to his voice.
“I don- I don’t miss you. You can get lost for all I care!”
The slug didn’t make any attempts to free Dazai from his embrace.
“Is that so?” Dazai said with an overly indulgent tone. His slug was so cute when drunk. He moved to wash Chuuya’s hair while the older tried (failed) to convince him of how much he didn’t miss him.
“You know, I really don’t miss you”
“Do you now?”
“It’s true. I don’t even think about you, or your stupid suicide guides, or the way your hair frames your face. You copied my old hairstyle by the way. I’ve always told you no one can do it better than me but your stubborn ass never listens…”
Dazai listened to Chuuya drone on about everything and nothing. His eyes eventually began to droop as the red head fell back asleep, limbs all tangled around him. With the pitter-patter of water as company; he mindlessly ran his hand through his partner’s hair. The domesticity of it all made Dazai hope. He wished to be there for his slug on both bad days and good, wished to be able to hug him from behind, rest his chin on the chibi’s shoulders and tease him relentlessly; he would be so good to him.
Dazai carried the slightly conscious slug out of the bathroom, toweling him off and donning him in an oversized shirt that was definitely not his. He tucked his chibi under the covers as he tried not to think about how cute his slug looked in (his) shirt.
His Chibi looked dazed; glossy eyes roved over the brunette. Dazai brought his face closer to him as he counted the constellation of freckles dotting his face.
“Close your eyes. Rest, Chuuya. I’ll hold on to you.”
“Will you come back?”
The hint of insecurity in his Chibikko’s voice made Dazai straighten. He was a man full of many regrets, yet he couldn’t find himself regretting anything as he bent over, finally closing the distance. He gave a small peck to Chuuya’s nose.
“I’ll always come back, chibi.”