At the bottom of the stairs, Dazai is facing his /own/ dilemma.
Namely, the fact that Kouyou is /furious/ that he's blocking the way up the stairs and won't let her up to see Chuuya. She's pacing back and forth in front of him, fists clenched.
She looks like she wants to slap
Namely, the fact that Kouyou is /furious/ that he's blocking the way up the stairs and won't let her up to see Chuuya. She's pacing back and forth in front of him, fists clenched.
She looks like she wants to slap
him, and he doesn't blame her for feeling that way. Hell, there's a /large/ part of him that blames himself for--
Well, for /everything/. Every part of this can be traced back to /his/ mistakes, and even when he tries to make it /better/-- like telling Chuuya who his sister
Well, for /everything/. Every part of this can be traced back to /his/ mistakes, and even when he tries to make it /better/-- like telling Chuuya who his sister
really was, telling him who /he/ was, telling him that he loved him-- he only ever makes it worse.
No matter how long he lives, he will /never/ forget the way Chuuya's expression crumpled into agony in the shower. How fearful he was of the water, how /trusting/ he still was,
No matter how long he lives, he will /never/ forget the way Chuuya's expression crumpled into agony in the shower. How fearful he was of the water, how /trusting/ he still was,
even though Dazai didn't deserve it.
And now his confession seemed to be the thing to shatter him into pieces. How /agonized/ he sounded as he sobbed in his arms, how exhausted he looked when he curled up in bed.
He can never make up for that. Chuuya was right for being angry
And now his confession seemed to be the thing to shatter him into pieces. How /agonized/ he sounded as he sobbed in his arms, how exhausted he looked when he curled up in bed.
He can never make up for that. Chuuya was right for being angry
with him for confessing when he did.
But he couldn't /help/ it. He was so relieved when he saw that Chuuya was still /alive/, mostly whole even if damaged, so /heartbroken/ for the pain he was obviously in--
And he couldn't /not/ say it.
It's probably some form of sick, karmic
But he couldn't /help/ it. He was so relieved when he saw that Chuuya was still /alive/, mostly whole even if damaged, so /heartbroken/ for the pain he was obviously in--
And he couldn't /not/ say it.
It's probably some form of sick, karmic
justice that every time they confess to each other, they just end up hurting each other. It's probably what Dazai deserves, even if Chuuya doesn't.
Still, he's determined not to mess /this/ up. He's holding onto this /simple/ task with the desperation of a failed man.
Chuuya
Still, he's determined not to mess /this/ up. He's holding onto this /simple/ task with the desperation of a failed man.
Chuuya
said he didn't want to see his sister right now. After the ordeal he's been through, he can completely understand needing space to process everything that happened. He respects that.
So, Kouyou will not be seeing Chuuya today. She can yell at him, threaten him, hit him, put a
So, Kouyou will not be seeing Chuuya today. She can yell at him, threaten him, hit him, put a
damn bullet in his head and a knife in his heart and Dazai will /not/ move.
The /only/ thing that matters to him right now is helping Chuuya get better in /any/ way he can.
"You don't have the /right/ to keep me away from him," Kouyou hisses at him, whirling around to pace
The /only/ thing that matters to him right now is helping Chuuya get better in /any/ way he can.
"You don't have the /right/ to keep me away from him," Kouyou hisses at him, whirling around to pace
back the other way. Her hair is down today, long and vibrant red, swaying with her every movement.
It's similar enough to Chuuya's hair-- just the straight version-- that the sight makes his heart tighten. It's hard to breathe around the stone weight in his chest, but he
It's similar enough to Chuuya's hair-- just the straight version-- that the sight makes his heart tighten. It's hard to breathe around the stone weight in his chest, but he
manages it. "He was the one who said he didn't want to see you right now. I'm not /keeping/ you from him, I'm just respecting his wishes."
"Liar," she shoots back, her hand lashing out in instinctual reaction. Her manicured red stiletto nails slice through the air like claws.
"Liar," she shoots back, her hand lashing out in instinctual reaction. Her manicured red stiletto nails slice through the air like claws.
Dazai's pretty sure the only reason she's not actually trying to claw at his face is because Kozo is sitting at his side, hackles raised as his eyes follow her every move. He won't move unless he gives the order, but if she gets physically aggressive with Dazai, his training will
kick in and he will react.
Behind her, Oda is leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. Despite his relaxed posture and the fact that his fingers are far from his weapons, his expression is tense and vigilant.
If any of them move too fast or too
Behind her, Oda is leaning back against the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. Despite his relaxed posture and the fact that his fingers are far from his weapons, his expression is tense and vigilant.
If any of them move too fast or too
violently, the entire room will dissolve into a fight. The tension is crackling between all of them, one wrong move away from snapping.
"This is /your/ fault," Kouyou snaps at him,jabbing her finger at him. "If it wasn't for /you/, he'd be perfectly safe. You caused all of this!
"This is /your/ fault," Kouyou snaps at him,jabbing her finger at him. "If it wasn't for /you/, he'd be perfectly safe. You caused all of this!
You don't get to tell me I /can't/ see him!"
He understands why she's upset. He's upset too and he's actually /seen/ Chuuya. Took in all the details and his response, saw firsthand how affected he was. He understands.
But that doesn't mean he's not going to /fight/ back, and
He understands why she's upset. He's upset too and he's actually /seen/ Chuuya. Took in all the details and his response, saw firsthand how affected he was. He understands.
But that doesn't mean he's not going to /fight/ back, and
while he will /agree/ that he has a lot of blame in this situation--
That doesn't mean she's /blameless/ and that she can put /everything/ on his shoulders when Kouyou has almost as much blame as he does.
"/I'm/ not telling you that you can't see him. I'm telling you /he/ said
That doesn't mean she's /blameless/ and that she can put /everything/ on his shoulders when Kouyou has almost as much blame as he does.
"/I'm/ not telling you that you can't see him. I'm telling you /he/ said
that you couldn’t see him.Besides,” his lip curls, showing off a set of shiny, cutting teeth, “I’m hardly the /only/ one to blame for this, aren’t I? He didn’t know you were the head of the mafia and therefore had a target on his back, until an /hour/ ago.”
That makes her still.
That makes her still.
She’s glaring at him, breathing hard with her eyebrows lowered thunderously over her razor-sharp blue eyes. “You /told/ him?”
She sounds /absurdly/ pissed off about that, almost as angry as she was when she found out what happened to him.
“Of course I told him,” he scoffs,
She sounds /absurdly/ pissed off about that, almost as angry as she was when she found out what happened to him.
“Of course I told him,” he scoffs,
crossing his own arms over his chest. “He has a right to know, and obviously /you/ weren’t going to tell him. Someone had to. He wasn’t kidnapped /just/ because of me— his connection to /you/ puts him in danger as well.”
She falls into seething silence at that, nostrils flaring.
She falls into seething silence at that, nostrils flaring.
He can tell she /wants/ to argue, but she can’t really find a good point.
Because he’s right. Kouyou has been /lucky/ so far that Chuuya hadn’t suffered any consequences for her position. Most children or family related to the higher ups of the Mafia are placed under a
Because he’s right. Kouyou has been /lucky/ so far that Chuuya hadn’t suffered any consequences for her position. Most children or family related to the higher ups of the Mafia are placed under a
protective guard. Kept safe in private or home schooling, never going anywhere without a guard detail. They are made /aware/ of the danger they might face some day, and so they are prepared for that potential possibility.
Some part of him understands why she never told Chuuya.
Some part of him understands why she never told Chuuya.
When she first joined the mafia and first started to climb the ranks, she was barely more than a child herself. Chuuya, certainly, wasn’t old enough to understand something like that and it would’ve been too easy for him to get them /both/ in trouble if he bragged to the wrong
person about how cool his sister was.
Some part of him is even /grateful/ that she didn’t tell him because—
They never would’ve met if she did, right? She would’ve warned him off if Dazai, told him whatever stories it took to keep him away, and they never would’ve met.
Trying
Some part of him is even /grateful/ that she didn’t tell him because—
They never would’ve met if she did, right? She would’ve warned him off if Dazai, told him whatever stories it took to keep him away, and they never would’ve met.
Trying
to imagine his life without the little chibi in it is /painful/. He never realized how intertwined their lives had become until they fought.
Chuuya is in his house, in his car, adored by his pets. He’s in Dazai’s every waking thought, in his breath, made a home for himself in
Chuuya is in his house, in his car, adored by his pets. He’s in Dazai’s every waking thought, in his breath, made a home for himself in
his very soul. There’s no part of Dazai—nothing he owns or makes or is— that doesn’t belong to Chuuya too.
He can’t imagine a life without that. Without him.
Still, even as he’s thankful Kouyou was /stupid/ when it came to her little brother—
He won’t let her put the blame
He can’t imagine a life without that. Without him.
Still, even as he’s thankful Kouyou was /stupid/ when it came to her little brother—
He won’t let her put the blame
entirely on his shoulders. She can like it or not, but he /knows/ that Chuuya wasn’t kidnapped for /just/ his relation to Dazai. He has no doubt that Fyodor’s questioning involved detail on his sister.
They are both to blame in this, for different reasons. They both had an
They are both to blame in this, for different reasons. They both had an
obligation to keep him safe and secure—
And they /both/ failed. No matter what happens from here on out, they will never be able to make up for the fact that Chuuya was /water boarded/ because of them. They can blame eachother and apologize and cry and so many other useless
And they /both/ failed. No matter what happens from here on out, they will never be able to make up for the fact that Chuuya was /water boarded/ because of them. They can blame eachother and apologize and cry and so many other useless
platitudes—
And it would never take away the fact that Chuuya is afraid of /water/ now. It will never make the fact that he probably won’t be able to take an easy, peaceful shower or bath by himself for months easier to bear.
“Please, Dazai,” Kouyou says, voice cracking with
And it would never take away the fact that Chuuya is afraid of /water/ now. It will never make the fact that he probably won’t be able to take an easy, peaceful shower or bath by himself for months easier to bear.
“Please, Dazai,” Kouyou says, voice cracking with
emotion. In this moment, she’s not the Port Mafia Boss, cold and dangerous. She’s not /powerful/, not right now. All that headstrong anger she usually hides behind has faded away, leaving nothing but shaky fear.
Now, she’s a sister who nearly lost her little brother tonight.
Now, she’s a sister who nearly lost her little brother tonight.
“Please just let me see him. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
Dazai does understand. If the circumstances were /switched/, he doubts there would be anything or anyone that could keep him from Chuuya.
But the circumstances aren’t switched. “No. You can’t see him. He doesn’t
Dazai does understand. If the circumstances were /switched/, he doubts there would be anything or anyone that could keep him from Chuuya.
But the circumstances aren’t switched. “No. You can’t see him. He doesn’t
want to see you. He needs some space right now, and you need to respect that. Yosano is checking on him now, to make sure he doesn’t need a hospital.”
Kouyou deflates, seeming to realize that he’s not going to back down. She takes two steps backwards, leaning against Oda and the
Kouyou deflates, seeming to realize that he’s not going to back down. She takes two steps backwards, leaning against Oda and the
couch like she’s too tired to hold up her own weight anymore.
He can understand the sentiment. The last eighteen hours have felt like they’ve dragged on for years.
“How do I know you’re not doing this on purpose? How do I know you’re not /manipulating/ him to— to keep me away
He can understand the sentiment. The last eighteen hours have felt like they’ve dragged on for years.
“How do I know you’re not doing this on purpose? How do I know you’re not /manipulating/ him to— to keep me away
from him? To /hurt/ him? To hurt /me/? How do I know this isn’t some set-up?” Kouyou’s tone is hoarse when she speaks again, and her voice is quiet, like she’s talking to herself.
The worst part is that she’s not wrong for thinking things like that. In another time, this is
The worst part is that she’s not wrong for thinking things like that. In another time, this is
exactly what he’d do. Find somebody’s weakness by finding their /family/, get close to his chosen tool for revenge. Drive a wedge between his tool and his target, isolate them, make them completely and utterly dependent on him, and then destroy them /both/ when the right time
came.
But this /isn’t/ another time, and the fact that he has to /prove/ that his feelings for Chuuya are genuine and not a ruse— even though he’s expressed no /desire/ for Kouyou’s position and therefore has no need to harm her— fucking sucks. Doubly so because /he/ feels that
But this /isn’t/ another time, and the fact that he has to /prove/ that his feelings for Chuuya are genuine and not a ruse— even though he’s expressed no /desire/ for Kouyou’s position and therefore has no need to harm her— fucking sucks. Doubly so because /he/ feels that
he doesn’t need to explain himself to her.
To Chuuya? Yes, and he will at the first opportunity.
To her? No.
“Guess you’ll just have to trust me,” he says, shrugging. “I would never hurt him.”
The only response he gets to /that/ is a disbelieving snort, just condescending
To Chuuya? Yes, and he will at the first opportunity.
To her? No.
“Guess you’ll just have to trust me,” he says, shrugging. “I would never hurt him.”
The only response he gets to /that/ is a disbelieving snort, just condescending
enough to make his jaw clench.
She's not /wrong/ to think along those lies, but it still /hurts/ to be thought the worst of all the time, even when he's worked /so/ hard over the past few years to prove that he's not /cruel/. He's--
He's not a /bad/ person. He was a messed up
She's not /wrong/ to think along those lies, but it still /hurts/ to be thought the worst of all the time, even when he's worked /so/ hard over the past few years to prove that he's not /cruel/. He's--
He's not a /bad/ person. He was a messed up
kid in an even more messed up situation. Yes, he hurt people, and yes, he even enjoyed it--
But he's /different/ now. He's /been/ different, and it fucking /sucks/ to constantly be reduced to the crimes he committed years ago. To only be viewed as the monster Mori made him to
But he's /different/ now. He's /been/ different, and it fucking /sucks/ to constantly be reduced to the crimes he committed years ago. To only be viewed as the monster Mori made him to
be.
A monster that Chuuya never saw him as and Dazai never /wanted/ him to see him as. That's why it hurt so badly when he brought it up the way he did.
Before any of them can say anything else, the door upstairs is opening again. The sound of Yosano's boots--heavy and black,
A monster that Chuuya never saw him as and Dazai never /wanted/ him to see him as. That's why it hurt so badly when he brought it up the way he did.
Before any of them can say anything else, the door upstairs is opening again. The sound of Yosano's boots--heavy and black,
knee-high, a harken back to the lethal steel-toes she /used/ to wear on their missions-- approaching the stairs makes his heart skip in his chest.
Yosano is a capable medic-- not /formally/ trained, but she learned at the right hand of Mori, who /was/ trained-- and she's
Yosano is a capable medic-- not /formally/ trained, but she learned at the right hand of Mori, who /was/ trained-- and she's
stitched him up more times than he can count. He trusts her to tell him the /truth/, even if she's not necessarily gentle about it.
Kouyou perks up too, her eyes finally leaving Dazai and moving towards the top of the stairs.
"Oh, stop looking at me like I'm some angel of
Kouyou perks up too, her eyes finally leaving Dazai and moving towards the top of the stairs.
"Oh, stop looking at me like I'm some angel of
death,” she says, waving one of her hands casually.
If she’s making jokes, that must mean it’s /good/ news, right? If it was serious, she wouldn’t be speaking so casually, right?
She comes to a stop on the step above Dazai, her duffel bag slung over one slim shoulder. Despite
If she’s making jokes, that must mean it’s /good/ news, right? If it was serious, she wouldn’t be speaking so casually, right?
She comes to a stop on the step above Dazai, her duffel bag slung over one slim shoulder. Despite
how heavy it looks— and how heavy it actually is, Dazai would know that from experience because she used to make him haul the damn thing around— the way she carries it looks effortless.
“As far as I can tell, he’ll be fine,” she says without preamble, “Exhausted and very
“As far as I can tell, he’ll be fine,” she says without preamble, “Exhausted and very
understandably upset. He’s probably cried himself to sleep by now.”
Dazai’s heart sinks in his chest. He was crying again?
He knows that’s /normal/, but he can’t help but feel upset when his baby is crying. He shouldn’t /ever/ cry, and now he’s hurt and upset and probably in a
Dazai’s heart sinks in his chest. He was crying again?
He knows that’s /normal/, but he can’t help but feel upset when his baby is crying. He shouldn’t /ever/ cry, and now he’s hurt and upset and probably in a
lot of pain. At least emotionally and mentally, if not physically.
There’s nothing that Dazai can do to take that away from him. He can’t go back in time and make himself /think/ before starting their fight. He can’t go back and stop him before he left. There’s nothing he can do
There’s nothing that Dazai can do to take that away from him. He can’t go back in time and make himself /think/ before starting their fight. He can’t go back and stop him before he left. There’s nothing he can do
to /fix/ this.
“He said he didn’t have any seizures when he was kidnapped, so as far as I can tell there’s no need to bring him into the emergency room. I do recommend that you are /very/ strict on his medications from now on. Keep an eye out for any minor seizing, and if he
“He said he didn’t have any seizures when he was kidnapped, so as far as I can tell there’s no need to bring him into the emergency room. I do recommend that you are /very/ strict on his medications from now on. Keep an eye out for any minor seizing, and if he
shows any signs of that, bring him in immediately. I’m sure the neurologist you took him to gave you a rundown on symptoms?”
At Dazai’s nod, she continues, “Other than that, keep an eye on his breathing to make sure he doesn’t develop pneumonia. He’ll be tired the next few days
At Dazai’s nod, she continues, “Other than that, keep an eye on his breathing to make sure he doesn’t develop pneumonia. He’ll be tired the next few days
and emotional, but that’s normal. When’s your follow up with the neurologist?”
Dazai called to make that appointment only a week ago. It feels so /long/ ago. “Just under three weeks.”
Yosano nods, coming the rest of the way down the stairs. Dazai moves out of her way quickly,
Dazai called to make that appointment only a week ago. It feels so /long/ ago. “Just under three weeks.”
Yosano nods, coming the rest of the way down the stairs. Dazai moves out of her way quickly,
motioning for Kozo to do the same. “Then my advice is to just to keep an eye on him, keep him on his regimens, and wait until the appointment.”
That’s it? /Wait/? That feels so /little/, that feels like /nothing/. How is Dazai supposed to just sit there and watch? Isn’t there
That’s it? /Wait/? That feels so /little/, that feels like /nothing/. How is Dazai supposed to just sit there and watch? Isn’t there
something more he can do?
(Sometimes, the most painful part of recovery is in the /waiting/. Healing takes time, and every minute can leave you feeling dried up and useless.)
“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital anyways? Just in case?” Kouyou pipes up behind him. She’s
(Sometimes, the most painful part of recovery is in the /waiting/. Healing takes time, and every minute can leave you feeling dried up and useless.)
“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital anyways? Just in case?” Kouyou pipes up behind him. She’s
looking at Yosano like she’s heaven-sent, someone who can give her all the answers to her questions.
“Well,” Yosano pauses to hand off her duffel bag to Oda, who takes it without hesitation or effort, “Physically, that might be the best option. They can do more tests than I can
“Well,” Yosano pauses to hand off her duffel bag to Oda, who takes it without hesitation or effort, “Physically, that might be the best option. They can do more tests than I can
and they have a lot more knowledge and experience on hand.”
Kouyou starts to stand up, looking like she’s determined to drag Chuuya down and force him to go to the emergency room herself. Dazai bristles immediately, clenching his fists.
“However,” Yosano continues sternly,
Kouyou starts to stand up, looking like she’s determined to drag Chuuya down and force him to go to the emergency room herself. Dazai bristles immediately, clenching his fists.
“However,” Yosano continues sternly,
pointing one long stiletto-sharp nail at the both of them. “First off, we have no /cover story/ for what happened to him. Asking him to lie or keep his pain a secret would be wrong, and if he told, it’d be trouble for everyone. The last people we want him to talk to right now are
the police.”
Just the mention of them makes Dazai scowl. Not only because the police have caused /him/ and his own trouble many times, but also because of their reputation in handling victims. Kindness is not something that is often attributed to the Yokohama Police Force.
If
Just the mention of them makes Dazai scowl. Not only because the police have caused /him/ and his own trouble many times, but also because of their reputation in handling victims. Kindness is not something that is often attributed to the Yokohama Police Force.
If
they knew just how much information Chuuya has on /all/ of them, he has no doubt that Chuuya wouldn’t see outside an interrogation cell for a very long time.
Another black claw joins the first. “Secondly, what’s most important for him right now is that he feels safe and secure.
Another black claw joins the first. “Secondly, what’s most important for him right now is that he feels safe and secure.
He needs to feel /protected/ right now, and he’s not going to feel that way when he’s in a bustling hospital, taken away by himself to do tests, being poked and prodded by people he doesn’t know. He’s fragile right now, and he’s holding it together pretty well, all things
considered, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need support more than ever right now."
That makes sense, but it's /hard/ to reconcile that the only thing Dazai can really do is just /be/ there for him and watch him struggle. He knows that the wariness in the shower is hardly
That makes sense, but it's /hard/ to reconcile that the only thing Dazai can really do is just /be/ there for him and watch him struggle. He knows that the wariness in the shower is hardly
going to be the /last/ trauma response, even if it might be the most prevalent. He'll be afraid, paranoid and anxious, probably of things as small as unexpected noises--
And all Dazai can do is /hold/ him and be there with him. If he's even allowed to do that, he reminds himself
And all Dazai can do is /hold/ him and be there with him. If he's even allowed to do that, he reminds himself
bitterly. He's not /unaware/ that their relationship right now is unstable and it wouldn't be wrong of Chuuya to just...
Not want to think about that or deal with it right now.
It would /hurt/, but if Chuuya decided tomorrow that he didn't want to see Dazai or talk to him until
Not want to think about that or deal with it right now.
It would /hurt/, but if Chuuya decided tomorrow that he didn't want to see Dazai or talk to him until
he felt better--
He could never tell him no. It would hurt and the thought of having him out of sight is anxiety inducing, but he would never tell him /no/. If he did, he'd be just as bad as the person who kidnapped him.
Trauma is never an easy route to navigate, not even for
He could never tell him no. It would hurt and the thought of having him out of sight is anxiety inducing, but he would never tell him /no/. If he did, he'd be just as bad as the person who kidnapped him.
Trauma is never an easy route to navigate, not even for
the people regulated to the sidelines. Not even for the people who just want to /help/.
Kouyou looks torn between arguing, chewing on her lip. From what Dazai's heard of Chuuya's tendency to get sick--he remembers /vividly/ the story of the pneumonia he got as a child that
Kouyou looks torn between arguing, chewing on her lip. From what Dazai's heard of Chuuya's tendency to get sick--he remembers /vividly/ the story of the pneumonia he got as a child that
ended up with him being hospitalized for a week and /seizing/-- he's almost tempted to side with her.
Yes, Chuuya obviously needs to feel safe-- but he also needs to be /physically/ healthy, and Yosano can't guarantee that. The only way to guarantee that is to do a multitude of
Yes, Chuuya obviously needs to feel safe-- but he also needs to be /physically/ healthy, and Yosano can't guarantee that. The only way to guarantee that is to do a multitude of
tests. At least, the only way to get close to something like a guarantee.
Dazai is well-versed in knowing how hidden wounds can fester and bleed if they're not taken care of properly soon enough. He knows very well how injuries /grow/.
He wants to do what's best for Chuuya and
Dazai is well-versed in knowing how hidden wounds can fester and bleed if they're not taken care of properly soon enough. He knows very well how injuries /grow/.
He wants to do what's best for Chuuya and
what's best for his /health/, and right now those feel like conflicting idealogies.
"Now that we got that out of the way," Yosano carries on, propping her hands up on her hips. She has a unique presence, not quite commanding but not controlling. Not quite /cruel/, but
"Now that we got that out of the way," Yosano carries on, propping her hands up on her hips. She has a unique presence, not quite commanding but not controlling. Not quite /cruel/, but
not altruistic either. Not quite /feminine/, but neither masculine. An enigma, something she deliberately cultivates by regularly pulling from opposite ends of a spectrum.
"Personally, I don't care about whatever pissing content you two have going on," she says, looking between
"Personally, I don't care about whatever pissing content you two have going on," she says, looking between
Dazai and Kouyou, blue gaze hard. A strand has come undone from her slicked-back hair, curling over her forehead and bouncing with the movements of her head. "But you need to put /whatever/ that is behind you and move on."
Yosano is probably one of the few people that have the
Yosano is probably one of the few people that have the
/balls/ to look like she’s lecturing school children. She ran the Mafia for years between the time Dazai left and Kouyou took over, and the hallways of the main building havé heard the echo of her boots thousands of times. She’s been ruthless and cruel, cunning and vindictive.
She was everything she needed to be to rule the Mafia with an iron stiletto-clawed hand, and then some.
Arguably, she was a better leader than Dazai ever was. Or was going to be.
That doesn’t mean he feels particularly /cowed/ under her gaze, until she carries on again.
“If
Arguably, she was a better leader than Dazai ever was. Or was going to be.
That doesn’t mean he feels particularly /cowed/ under her gaze, until she carries on again.
“If
you’re serious about him,” she warns, staring Dazai down. Her anger is the hardest to bear, because it looks the most like /Mori’s/. Cold, cutting like a scalpel, slicing through right to the heart of things. “Then you’re going to have to get /along/ with Kouyou. No more games
to see who is the most powerful, no more pissing contests, no more threatening to kill each other.”
Dazai looks away, slightly embarrassed. She’s /right/. There’s been a lot of instances in the recent past where he’s put his /pride/ above anything else. He’s always viewed
Dazai looks away, slightly embarrassed. She’s /right/. There’s been a lot of instances in the recent past where he’s put his /pride/ above anything else. He’s always viewed
himself as /better/ than Kouyou. Smarter, more resourceful, braver.
Even when he was /trying/ to meet with her, it was always with the sense that she would bend to /his/ will. He had the information she wanted, and so she would be /forced/ to agree to whatever his terms were if
Even when he was /trying/ to meet with her, it was always with the sense that she would bend to /his/ will. He had the information she wanted, and so she would be /forced/ to agree to whatever his terms were if
she wanted to get that information.
It’s a typical Mafia relationship—
But Dazai isn’t in the mafia anymore. He doesn’t want power or responsibility or influence. He doesn’t want to be high up in the food chain anymore, and he doesn’t want to be the uncrowned king.
He wants
It’s a typical Mafia relationship—
But Dazai isn’t in the mafia anymore. He doesn’t want power or responsibility or influence. He doesn’t want to be high up in the food chain anymore, and he doesn’t want to be the uncrowned king.
He wants
/Chuuya/. In every and any way he can have him.
Screw the mafia, the information rings, the deals and the bargains. That’s only ever brought him /pain/. It only ever allowed him the dignity of being able to choose his pain and the path he took to get there.
Chuuya brings him
Screw the mafia, the information rings, the deals and the bargains. That’s only ever brought him /pain/. It only ever allowed him the dignity of being able to choose his pain and the path he took to get there.
Chuuya brings him
/light/. He brings him happiness and peace and love and acceptance. All the things Dazai has ever wanted, wrapped up in a pretty, tiny package.
He’d give up everything for him.
He nods.
After another second of keen observation, Yosano seems satisfied with his answer. Her
He’d give up everything for him.
He nods.
After another second of keen observation, Yosano seems satisfied with his answer. Her
eyes leave him, pinning her next victim in place.
“And /you/ need to stop acting like you’re better than him. That’s your little brother up there, and if he’s /dating/ Dazai, then you might as well get used to it. He needs you /both/ right now and fighting at all is just going
“And /you/ need to stop acting like you’re better than him. That’s your little brother up there, and if he’s /dating/ Dazai, then you might as well get used to it. He needs you /both/ right now and fighting at all is just going
to alienate and isolate him further.”
Even Dazai can tell that Kouyou is fuming, but she doesn’t say anything. She just glares at the wall near Yosano’s shoulder silently, face fight.
It’s hard for people used to wielding power to be treated like an /idiot/. Or told what to
Even Dazai can tell that Kouyou is fuming, but she doesn’t say anything. She just glares at the wall near Yosano’s shoulder silently, face fight.
It’s hard for people used to wielding power to be treated like an /idiot/. Or told what to
do. Both of them have made a name for themselves in their own ways, both of them are exceedingly capable and talented.
Neither of them /enjoy/ the way Yosano is looking down on them like a pair of squabbling toddlers, and the worst thing is that she's /right/. Most of their
Neither of them /enjoy/ the way Yosano is looking down on them like a pair of squabbling toddlers, and the worst thing is that she's /right/. Most of their
problems with each other are superficial, and would've been solved if they had been more /mature/ about the situation from the beginning. If they had been dedicated to working together instead of dedicated to showing the other one up.
"But--," Kouyou starts, looking frustrated.
"But--," Kouyou starts, looking frustrated.
"I want to /see/ him--"
This time it's Oda who silences her, nudging her shoulder with his own. "You'll see him soon," he reassures her, "but for now, he needs to rest. He's angry and exhausted and confused. Yosano said he was okay and will recover. I'm sure Chuuya will want to
This time it's Oda who silences her, nudging her shoulder with his own. "You'll see him soon," he reassures her, "but for now, he needs to rest. He's angry and exhausted and confused. Yosano said he was okay and will recover. I'm sure Chuuya will want to
see you soon, but for now--,"
He looks up then, pinning Dazai with blue eyes, as infinitely endless and serene as the sky itself. There's something about Oda that often feels like wisdom and peace.
Not that Oda has ever been /completely/ peaceful himself, but he's so steady
He looks up then, pinning Dazai with blue eyes, as infinitely endless and serene as the sky itself. There's something about Oda that often feels like wisdom and peace.
Not that Oda has ever been /completely/ peaceful himself, but he's so steady
and unshakeable that it seems like nothing can ever bother him. No matter how bad things get, no matter how bloody the missions they used to go together on, no matter how blatantly miserable and sadistic Dazai used to be, no matter /what/ happened, he always took it all in with a
steadfast, calm acceptance.
Nothing fazed him, and maybe that was part of why Dazai was so drawn to him at first. In a world of reactions, where his presence was treated with fear and anxiety, and he got a sick thrill off tormenting random strangers with his suicidal tendencies—
Nothing fazed him, and maybe that was part of why Dazai was so drawn to him at first. In a world of reactions, where his presence was treated with fear and anxiety, and he got a sick thrill off tormenting random strangers with his suicidal tendencies—
That unfazed acceptance was /appealing/. It made Dazai feel like no matter what happened, no matter what he did or said or thought, Oda would be right there beside him. He could never scare him off or chase him away.
It felt like someone /believed/ in him.
A belief that is
It felt like someone /believed/ in him.
A belief that is
shining at him again.
“I’m sure Dazai will take care of him.”
Oda and Dazai might never have the perfect relationship, especially at this point in time. Oda might /hurt/ his feelings sometimes, or question him when Dazai swears he’s earned some faith—
But somehow, he always
“I’m sure Dazai will take care of him.”
Oda and Dazai might never have the perfect relationship, especially at this point in time. Oda might /hurt/ his feelings sometimes, or question him when Dazai swears he’s earned some faith—
But somehow, he always
manages to have his back when it matters /most/. Somehow, he always manages to say the thing he absolutely needs to hear, exactly when he needs to hear it.
Kouyou looks from Oda to Dazai, and although her expression is still pinched with frustration and irritation—
She doesn’t
Kouyou looks from Oda to Dazai, and although her expression is still pinched with frustration and irritation—
She doesn’t
look like she’s searching for a reason to distrust him or hate him anymore. It looks like she’s /trying/ to trust him, even if it’s hard.
It’s probably the most amenable they’ve ever been with each other. No threats, no cutthroat negotiations, no hidden motives.
(Just a
It’s probably the most amenable they’ve ever been with each other. No threats, no cutthroat negotiations, no hidden motives.
(Just a
sister looking at her future brother in law, getting the first realization that this man is here to /stay/.)
“I promise I’ll take care of him,” Dazai pipes up, looking her straight in the eye to show how serious he is. Then, after a moment, his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile,
“I promise I’ll take care of him,” Dazai pipes up, looking her straight in the eye to show how serious he is. Then, after a moment, his lips quirk up in a lopsided smile,
not any less charming for how subdued it looks compared to his usual one. “If he’ll let me.”
That, miraculously, draws a short bark of laughter from Kouyou, fondly irritated. “God, he’s so fucking stubborn, isn’t he?”
Dazai’s smile grows a little bigger, sweetly affectionate
That, miraculously, draws a short bark of laughter from Kouyou, fondly irritated. “God, he’s so fucking stubborn, isn’t he?”
Dazai’s smile grows a little bigger, sweetly affectionate
at the edges. “Yeah, he really is.”
Not that Dazai would ever /change/ that— he wouldn’t change a /thing/ about Chuuya, except for maybe taking care of himself better. It’s /endearing/, the way the tiny chibi will stand his ground until /he/ decides to move.
It’s also /cute/
Not that Dazai would ever /change/ that— he wouldn’t change a /thing/ about Chuuya, except for maybe taking care of himself better. It’s /endearing/, the way the tiny chibi will stand his ground until /he/ decides to move.
It’s also /cute/
that he’s apparently been stubborn /forever/. He can just imagine a tiny, chubby-cheeked Chuuya, fists planted on his hips and stomping his little feet. The thought is so adorable it makes his heart swell, despite everything.
“I’ll see what I can do about getting him to talk to
“I’ll see what I can do about getting him to talk to
you tomorrow,” he acquiesces, willing to work with Kouyou to help put her mind at ease. He understands where her worry comes from, and he wants to /prove/ he’s serious about Chuuya by being...
Friendly.
“At least a call or a text. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”
Friendly.
“At least a call or a text. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”
That seems to be enough to mollify her, at least for now. After another hard look, clearly trying to impress on Dazai how much she /means/ it, she’s letting Oda steer her to the front entrance.
Yosano claps a hand on his shoulder as she passes. In her boots, she’s almost as tall
Yosano claps a hand on his shoulder as she passes. In her boots, she’s almost as tall
as he is and can look him in the eye flat footed.
Her grin, when Dazai looks at her, is so similar to the one she used to wear when they were just rambunctious, too-powerful, too-mean kids that he aches with it.
“You, settling down? Never thought I’d see the day.”
Dazai
Her grin, when Dazai looks at her, is so similar to the one she used to wear when they were just rambunctious, too-powerful, too-mean kids that he aches with it.
“You, settling down? Never thought I’d see the day.”
Dazai
snorts, shaking his head lightly.
Truthfully, he never thought he would either. The idea of a ‘normal’ life— marriage, kids, a job and a house, /pets/, everything that comes with building a life with someone else— never really appealed to him. There were /some/ days where he
Truthfully, he never thought he would either. The idea of a ‘normal’ life— marriage, kids, a job and a house, /pets/, everything that comes with building a life with someone else— never really appealed to him. There were /some/ days where he
thought that something like that would be nice.
But most of the time, he knew he would never find something like that, and never bothered to want it.
Now though—
It’s different. Now he has /two/ sets of clothing in every drawer, a pink toothbrush sitting next to his in the
But most of the time, he knew he would never find something like that, and never bothered to want it.
Now though—
It’s different. Now he has /two/ sets of clothing in every drawer, a pink toothbrush sitting next to his in the
cup by the sink, shampoo and conditioner that isn’t his in his shower. He has a /side/ of the bed now, and the other half is taken up by an endearing puppy pile made up of one dog, one cat, and the love of his life.
You see, whenever he thought of a ‘normal’ life, he always
You see, whenever he thought of a ‘normal’ life, he always
envisioned it would be /sudden/. He’d meet someone and just realize, then and there, that he was ready to give up everything he was and had to be with them. To build something /new/ with them.
It’s only now that he’s beginning to realize that life—and love— doesn’t happen that
It’s only now that he’s beginning to realize that life—and love— doesn’t happen that
fast. It’s /slow/, a mollasses crawl into sharing his life and home and bed. By the time he realized it was happening, the deal was already sealed.
He never had to change. He never had to give anything up. He never had to be someone /else/, because Chuuya loved him the way he
He never had to change. He never had to give anything up. He never had to be someone /else/, because Chuuya loved him the way he
/was/. He wanted /Dazai/, not some character of himself that he could play, not someone different in his body.
Just Dazai.
“Thanks,” he mutters, trying to shrug off the growing guilt he feels at feeling /happy/ right now. Now isn’t the time or place to be feeling wonderous or
Just Dazai.
“Thanks,” he mutters, trying to shrug off the growing guilt he feels at feeling /happy/ right now. Now isn’t the time or place to be feeling wonderous or
/lucky/.
But /fuck/, he never thought he would have something like this. He almost lost it, yes, but he’s /changed/. He knows better now.
And if Chuuya will let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure his baby doesn’t suffer a /single/ hurt ever again. If Dazai has
But /fuck/, he never thought he would have something like this. He almost lost it, yes, but he’s /changed/. He knows better now.
And if Chuuya will let him, he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure his baby doesn’t suffer a /single/ hurt ever again. If Dazai has
his way, he’ll never feel pain again.
“Congratulations,” Yosano responds, a little cheesy. “Take care of him, okay? I want to be invited to your wedding not your /funeral/.”
That pulls a lopsided smile out of him. “Yeah I will. Thanks for coming out tonight. I know it’s past
“Congratulations,” Yosano responds, a little cheesy. “Take care of him, okay? I want to be invited to your wedding not your /funeral/.”
That pulls a lopsided smile out of him. “Yeah I will. Thanks for coming out tonight. I know it’s past
your bed time, old man,” he teases.
Yosano heads for the front door, not looking back at him as she offers him one elegantly long middle finger. “Yeah, yeah. I’m always getting your ass out of trouble.”
/That/ is true and has been for as long as Dazai can remember. He doesn’t
Yosano heads for the front door, not looking back at him as she offers him one elegantly long middle finger. “Yeah, yeah. I’m always getting your ass out of trouble.”
/That/ is true and has been for as long as Dazai can remember. He doesn’t
even bother trying to deny it.
Kozo watches, ears perked with interest, as they all file out of the door before shutting it behind them.
The house is almost eerily silent after they’ve left, a tense and anxious energy falling over the entire place.
It almost feels haunted
Kozo watches, ears perked with interest, as they all file out of the door before shutting it behind them.
The house is almost eerily silent after they’ve left, a tense and anxious energy falling over the entire place.
It almost feels haunted
now. Not by a ghost or a spirit, or anything else so easily banished.
It’s haunted by all the things that have happened to them and between them. A lingering shadow over them that can never be cleansed or uprooted, something that will dog their footsteps for quite a while yet.
It’s haunted by all the things that have happened to them and between them. A lingering shadow over them that can never be cleansed or uprooted, something that will dog their footsteps for quite a while yet.
It, like most things, can only be outgrown with time.
Sighing slightly to himself, he heads back upstairs. He’s not sure what to do in this situation—he’s never /comforted/ someone after a trauma, and definitely not someone so important to him— but he’s not going to take the
Sighing slightly to himself, he heads back upstairs. He’s not sure what to do in this situation—he’s never /comforted/ someone after a trauma, and definitely not someone so important to him— but he’s not going to take the
chance of doing /nothing/.
He wants to do it /right/. It just makes him nervous because he’s only ever been taught how to do it /wrong/.
The bedroom, when he carefully pushes his way inside, is mostly silent. Yoko is panting quietly to herself, obviously happy even if her
He wants to do it /right/. It just makes him nervous because he’s only ever been taught how to do it /wrong/.
The bedroom, when he carefully pushes his way inside, is mostly silent. Yoko is panting quietly to herself, obviously happy even if her
energy is more subdued than it usually would be. She's curled around a lump in the blankets, chin resting on the back.
Chuuya, curled up as tightly as possible beneath the blankets, trembling hard enough that it's just /slightly/ visible. He's not making any noise, and somehow
Chuuya, curled up as tightly as possible beneath the blankets, trembling hard enough that it's just /slightly/ visible. He's not making any noise, and somehow
that seems even more heartbreaking than if he were sobbing.
Dazai's heart /aches/ for him. Chuuya was always a /vibrant/ person, loud and impossible to ignore, shamelessly and fearlessly making his place in the world and now--
He hopes it's only /temporary/, but now it seems
Dazai's heart /aches/ for him. Chuuya was always a /vibrant/ person, loud and impossible to ignore, shamelessly and fearlessly making his place in the world and now--
He hopes it's only /temporary/, but now it seems
like something in him is broken. Something irreplacable and /fragile/ and precious. Something Dazai should have been caring for and /protecting/,but he didn't do it right.
He wasn't enough.
He hesitates in the doorway for a long time, unsure of what to do. Obviously, he /wants/
He wasn't enough.
He hesitates in the doorway for a long time, unsure of what to do. Obviously, he /wants/
to go over there and hold him, comfort him--
But he's not sure if he's allowed to. With the terrible things he said to him /before/, the way he took Chuuya's offered heart and crushed it, the fight, his /next/ mishap in the shower...
Their relationship is rocky. If they even
But he's not sure if he's allowed to. With the terrible things he said to him /before/, the way he took Chuuya's offered heart and crushed it, the fight, his /next/ mishap in the shower...
Their relationship is rocky. If they even
have a relationship anymore, because Dazai basically broke it off. He regrets that /now/ and he wants to take it all back, but they haven't talked about it.
The idea of talking about it right /now/ seems wrong anyways. Dazai's feelings right now don't /matter/, not when Chuuya
The idea of talking about it right /now/ seems wrong anyways. Dazai's feelings right now don't /matter/, not when Chuuya
is hurting the way he is.
God, he just wishes he had the /exact/ words to make everything better. He's so /smart/, so why does he feel so /stupid/ when he tries to navigate their relationship? Everything else comes so easily to him, but he just seems to keep messing the
God, he just wishes he had the /exact/ words to make everything better. He's so /smart/, so why does he feel so /stupid/ when he tries to navigate their relationship? Everything else comes so easily to him, but he just seems to keep messing the
important things up. Always saying the wrong thing, reacting the wrong way, always making mistakes. Mistakes that /Chuuya/ inevitably pays for.
Why can't he just do this /right/?
"'zai?"
Dazai stirs, slightly startled when he hears Chuuya mumble his name. It's quiet, voice
Why can't he just do this /right/?
"'zai?"
Dazai stirs, slightly startled when he hears Chuuya mumble his name. It's quiet, voice
rough and croaky, but he heard him. He wasn't expecting him to be awake right now, as exhausted as he must be, much less want to /talk/ to him.
"Yes?"
There's a long moment of silence, like Chuuya fell asleep or he's deciding what to say. Or like he regrets speaking up at all.
"Yes?"
There's a long moment of silence, like Chuuya fell asleep or he's deciding what to say. Or like he regrets speaking up at all.
Then, "I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, it's /dark/."
There's a pang in his chest, a physical pain that he has to breathe through. Chuuya sounds so /miserable/, suffering dripping from his tone and evident in the way he's hunched over himself under the blanket. He
There's a pang in his chest, a physical pain that he has to breathe through. Chuuya sounds so /miserable/, suffering dripping from his tone and evident in the way he's hunched over himself under the blanket. He
sounds like he's on the verge of /crying/ again, voice thick. Intermittent sniffles are just barely heard over the sound of Yoko's breathing.
Poor /baby/.
Dazai pushes off the doorframe, padding to the other side of the room. His room is always lit up in some fashion-- he hates
Poor /baby/.
Dazai pushes off the doorframe, padding to the other side of the room. His room is always lit up in some fashion-- he hates
the dark too, even if he's gotten used to it-- but for now he turns on the bigger lamp on Chuuya's side of the bed. He doesn't use it often, because it's an LED bulb that makes his head hurt, but hopefully it will do the trick.
White light spills across the room, illuminating
White light spills across the room, illuminating
half of the room easily and banishing all the shadows to somewhere else for the rest of the night.
When Dazai turns around, he finds Chuuya huddled under the blanket, with only a small section over his eyes pulled up so he can look out. He's squinting into the light, blinking
When Dazai turns around, he finds Chuuya huddled under the blanket, with only a small section over his eyes pulled up so he can look out. He's squinting into the light, blinking
slowly.
The bags under his eyes looks terrible and grey. He's got more color in his face than before, but he still looks pale and drawn.
He looks /hurt/.
"Is that better?" Dazai asks, making sure to keep his voice low and soothing. He needs to /comfort/ him, not upset or
The bags under his eyes looks terrible and grey. He's got more color in his face than before, but he still looks pale and drawn.
He looks /hurt/.
"Is that better?" Dazai asks, making sure to keep his voice low and soothing. He needs to /comfort/ him, not upset or
overwhelm him with his own emotions.
Chuuya blinks at him, the lower half of his face hidden beneath the blanket. "I don't know. Maybe."
He sounds so /lost/, like he doesn't know how to handle himself or what to do. Like he's struggling to make sense of it all, and to process
Chuuya blinks at him, the lower half of his face hidden beneath the blanket. "I don't know. Maybe."
He sounds so /lost/, like he doesn't know how to handle himself or what to do. Like he's struggling to make sense of it all, and to process
the fallout.
Dazai can't /not/ go to him.
It only takes him a few short strides to have him crouched by the edge of the bed, putting himself at eye-level. He doesn't reach out for him yet, even though his fingers ache to touch. Letting his expression fill with concern--trying
Dazai can't /not/ go to him.
It only takes him a few short strides to have him crouched by the edge of the bed, putting himself at eye-level. He doesn't reach out for him yet, even though his fingers ache to touch. Letting his expression fill with concern--trying
to show how /genuine/ he is-- he asks, "Is there anything else I can do to help?"
Blue eyes, duller than they've ever been and covered with a sheen of exhaustion, stare out at him. When he speaks, it's with a mixture of /frustration/ and misery. "I don't know."
Okay. Dazai can
Blue eyes, duller than they've ever been and covered with a sheen of exhaustion, stare out at him. When he speaks, it's with a mixture of /frustration/ and misery. "I don't know."
Okay. Dazai can
work with that, he can handle that.
By relative terms, Chuuya has led a rather... /sheltered/ life. He's struggled with his medical health, but he's never really had to deal with /external/ factors harming him. His family loved him and kept him safe, and it wasn't until a few
By relative terms, Chuuya has led a rather... /sheltered/ life. He's struggled with his medical health, but he's never really had to deal with /external/ factors harming him. His family loved him and kept him safe, and it wasn't until a few
weeks ago that he ever had to deal with someone trying to /seriously/ harm him.
It wasn't until a few hours ago that he realized that true, genuine cruelty and evil existed in the world.
Poor thing.
Dazai dares to reach up, coasting his fingers over the bulge of Chuuya's
It wasn't until a few hours ago that he realized that true, genuine cruelty and evil existed in the world.
Poor thing.
Dazai dares to reach up, coasting his fingers over the bulge of Chuuya's
legs under the blanket. He keeps his touch light, unobtrusive, not wanting to frighten him or push him too far. "Okay," he murmurs, "Can I hold you, then?"
He wants it. He wants it so badly it /hurts/, and he wants Chuuya to want that /too/. Wants to be the person he seeks
He wants it. He wants it so badly it /hurts/, and he wants Chuuya to want that /too/. Wants to be the person he seeks
comfort in, wants to be the person he runs to when he's hurting and the world is huge and scary and mean. Wants to keep him /safe/.
Chuuya is silent for so long he's convinced he's going to say no, gaze flitting over Dazai's face. He's not sure what he's looking for, but he
Chuuya is silent for so long he's convinced he's going to say no, gaze flitting over Dazai's face. He's not sure what he's looking for, but he
hopes he finds it.
"Yeah," he eventually croaks, scooting backwards slightly to give him some room.
Dazai's heart feels like it's /soaring/, like it's in his mouth, impossible to breathe around, his feelings for the chibi too much to contain. He doesn't hesitate to follow
"Yeah," he eventually croaks, scooting backwards slightly to give him some room.
Dazai's heart feels like it's /soaring/, like it's in his mouth, impossible to breathe around, his feelings for the chibi too much to contain. He doesn't hesitate to follow
through, sliding under the blanket with him.
It takes some rearranging, because he wants Chuuya to stay facing the light and Yoko has to be moved from her spot lying along the length of his back, all without pulling the blanket off of them, but he eventually manages it.
It's
It takes some rearranging, because he wants Chuuya to stay facing the light and Yoko has to be moved from her spot lying along the length of his back, all without pulling the blanket off of them, but he eventually manages it.
It's
worth it though, as soon as he's spooned up behind him, his knees tucking in neatly behind Chuuya's. He wiggles one arm underneath his head and wraps the other around his waist to pull him close,curving his body to fit his.
Chuuya melts into him easily. He's a little colder than
Chuuya melts into him easily. He's a little colder than
usual, but all his resistance has melted away completely. He doesn't move to make himself comfortable, but Dazai knows how he /likes/ to be cuddled and does so without prompting.
He props his chin up on the top of his head, his body completely enveloping Chuuya's. Keeping him
He props his chin up on the top of his head, his body completely enveloping Chuuya's. Keeping him
safe and sheltered in the curve of his body, keeping him /close/. No one can hurt him here.
"Do you think you can sleep now?" He asks, voice hushed to honor the quiet atmosphere that's fallen over them. His thumb strokes soothing rhythms over Chuuya's waist over the shirt he's
"Do you think you can sleep now?" He asks, voice hushed to honor the quiet atmosphere that's fallen over them. His thumb strokes soothing rhythms over Chuuya's waist over the shirt he's
wearing.
It’s one of Dazai’s, one that had unofficially been stolen from him weeks ago. It’s old, faded, and /much/ too big for Chuuya—
But he always sleeps in it, even now. Even after everything.
It gives Dazai /hope/ that one day— some day— everything will be okay again.
It’s one of Dazai’s, one that had unofficially been stolen from him weeks ago. It’s old, faded, and /much/ too big for Chuuya—
But he always sleeps in it, even now. Even after everything.
It gives Dazai /hope/ that one day— some day— everything will be okay again.
That /they’ll/ be okay again, someday. They have something worth /fighting/ for, something worth keeping.
Chuuya’s almost unnaturally still against him. He’s a restless sleeper, normally, always tossing and turning and tugging at Dazai in the middle of the night.
“Are you
Chuuya’s almost unnaturally still against him. He’s a restless sleeper, normally, always tossing and turning and tugging at Dazai in the middle of the night.
“Are you
going to leave when I do?”
Dazai inhales slowly at the shaky question, hurt pulsing through him. It’s a mixture of his /own/ hurt and sympathy for Chuuya. “No,” he reassures him, drawing him closer until every line of their bodies are pressed together tightly. “I’m not going
Dazai inhales slowly at the shaky question, hurt pulsing through him. It’s a mixture of his /own/ hurt and sympathy for Chuuya. “No,” he reassures him, drawing him closer until every line of their bodies are pressed together tightly. “I’m not going
anywhere.”
That seems to be enough for Chuuya, at least in this moment. Their problems are /far/ from over, and they have a long road ahead of them—
But for now, Chuuya is flipping over in his spot. Burying his face in Dazai’s chest like he’s trying to hide from the world.
That seems to be enough for Chuuya, at least in this moment. Their problems are /far/ from over, and they have a long road ahead of them—
But for now, Chuuya is flipping over in his spot. Burying his face in Dazai’s chest like he’s trying to hide from the world.
Pushing one of his legs between Dazai’s, wrapping his arms around his waist to fist the back of his shirt, like he’s afraid he’ll try to pull away. Like he feels the need to /hang on/, scared something else will be taken from him again.
Hugging him back tightly, Dazai has to
Hugging him back tightly, Dazai has to
forcibly ignore the growing dampness of tears he can feel on his shirt, and the slight shuddering of his breath. Acknowledging it won’t make it /better/, making Chuuya talk about it won’t make it go away. Keeping him talking when he needs to be sleeping and recovering is
counterproductive. If he /wants/ to talk, then he can— but so far he’s just breathing shakily into his shirt silently.
They can talk later.
Still, Dazai holds him tighter in response, tucking his head under his chin. Yoko has relocated to laying over Dazai’s hip so she can
They can talk later.
Still, Dazai holds him tighter in response, tucking his head under his chin. Yoko has relocated to laying over Dazai’s hip so she can
drape her head over Chuuya’s side. Baki is curled up on his pillow, pressed against the back of his head, and purring up a storm.
Funny, how Dazai never realized how small his world was until he was holding it in his arms. Funny how he /used/ to think he needed a bulleted list
Funny, how Dazai never realized how small his world was until he was holding it in his arms. Funny how he /used/ to think he needed a bulleted list
of things to be /happy/—
But all he ever needed was this.
He wants to say it again. God, he knows he shouldn’t— he /can’t/— but the realization of his feelings feels like an addiction.
I love you. I love you. I love you, I love you, I /love/ you.
He wants to say it again.
But all he ever needed was this.
He wants to say it again. God, he knows he shouldn’t— he /can’t/— but the realization of his feelings feels like an addiction.
I love you. I love you. I love you, I love you, I /love/ you.
He wants to say it again.
He’s never said it before to anyone else, never felt the need or desire to say it, but now that he’s said it /once/, he doesn’t want to /stop/. He wants to say it again and again and again, in a thousand different ways, every way he can think of.
It feels /wrong/ to feel even a
It feels /wrong/ to feel even a
smidge of happiness or excitement right now, but he can’t /help/ it.
He did it. He /did/ it. He, who once thought himself so hollowed out with dread and depression that he couldn’t even /feel/ anymore, who thought that his only fate was to end up in a bloody ditch by himself,
He did it. He /did/ it. He, who once thought himself so hollowed out with dread and depression that he couldn’t even /feel/ anymore, who thought that his only fate was to end up in a bloody ditch by himself,
who’s /only/ friends in life were just as bloody and fucked up as he was—and even they didn’t want him, sometimes—, who never thought that he would /ever/ experience happiness in his life—
He did it. He fell in /love/.
He wants to keep it. /God/, he wants to keep it, so badly.
He did it. He fell in /love/.
He wants to keep it. /God/, he wants to keep it, so badly.
He wants to /cherish/ it, hold this little ball of warmth and light in his hands and never let it go.
But that’s not up to him anymore. He’ll try, he’ll do /whatever/ it takes to make it up to Chuuya, to prove himself to him and make sure he’s healthy and /happy/—
But at the
But that’s not up to him anymore. He’ll try, he’ll do /whatever/ it takes to make it up to Chuuya, to prove himself to him and make sure he’s healthy and /happy/—
But at the
end of the day, that’s not his decision to make. He can’t force it, and if Chuuya wants to leave—
He has no choice but to let him.
Anything he could ever want is inevitably lost, right? And some things.... some things you just can’t come back from.
Some things can’t be fixed,
He has no choice but to let him.
Anything he could ever want is inevitably lost, right? And some things.... some things you just can’t come back from.
Some things can’t be fixed,
no matter how you try.
Some things... they just stay broken.
Dazai doesn’t sleep that night. He just lays there, holding a fretful chibi in his arms, and tries not to feel like this might be his last chance.
Like his life is over before it ever really began.
—— +
Some things... they just stay broken.
Dazai doesn’t sleep that night. He just lays there, holding a fretful chibi in his arms, and tries not to feel like this might be his last chance.
Like his life is over before it ever really began.
—— +
Chuuya dreams of horrifying things. The scrape of metal buckets, the slosh of water, stench and wet and /burning pain/, get it off, get it off, I can’t /breathe/—
No matter how hard he thrashes, he can never escape. There’s rope around his wrists, a bag over his head, a
No matter how hard he thrashes, he can never escape. There’s rope around his wrists, a bag over his head, a
surprisingly soothing and familiar voice that comes from very, very far away that urges him back to sleep. It’s singing, maybe, but every time he tries to focus on it, the darkness comes plunging back in.
The struggle never ends. Chuuya’s a /fighter/ by nature, but—
He’s so
The struggle never ends. Chuuya’s a /fighter/ by nature, but—
He’s so
/tired/. He just needs a /little/ break. Just five minutes, /please/, he just needs to /breathe/ and calm down and fucking /think/ for just a moment.
When does it stop? Why doesn’t it ever /stop/?
When Chuuya wakes, eventually, he somehow manages to feel only marginally more
When does it stop? Why doesn’t it ever /stop/?
When Chuuya wakes, eventually, he somehow manages to feel only marginally more
rested than before. It feels like he’s been fighting in his sleep, head aching with the memories of nightmares.
The first thing he notices is that the aches have set in. He didn’t notice it yesterday, because everything was too visceral, but now points of soreness have developed
The first thing he notices is that the aches have set in. He didn’t notice it yesterday, because everything was too visceral, but now points of soreness have developed
along most of his body. The most painful points being his legs, wrists and back.
His head hurts. Not terribly, but there’s a dull, steady throbbing behind his eyes, something that might have to do with how dry his mouth feels.
He’s thirsty. What kind of fucked up joke is that?
His head hurts. Not terribly, but there’s a dull, steady throbbing behind his eyes, something that might have to do with how dry his mouth feels.
He’s thirsty. What kind of fucked up joke is that?
"Waterboarding victim, afraid to shower, still somehow manages to be thirsty after being forced to ingest a gallon of water or more."
Logically he /knows/ bodily functions won't stop just because he's hurting, but still. How is he supposed to reconcile the fact that he /needs/
Logically he /knows/ bodily functions won't stop just because he's hurting, but still. How is he supposed to reconcile the fact that he /needs/
water even when the thought of it makes him sick? How is he supposed to just...
Drink.
The next thing he notices is that he's /warm/. Almost suffocatingly warm, with a virtual wall of warmth wrapped all around his front. There's another heavy weight on his hip, shaped like a
Drink.
The next thing he notices is that he's /warm/. Almost suffocatingly warm, with a virtual wall of warmth wrapped all around his front. There's another heavy weight on his hip, shaped like a
dog's head.
Yoko, and Dazai. It seems like they haven't moved at all, essentially in the same position he fell asleep with them in. Parts of him are numb from the weight, one of his arms completely dead. That's probably part of why he's so /sore/. He didn't have any room to move
Yoko, and Dazai. It seems like they haven't moved at all, essentially in the same position he fell asleep with them in. Parts of him are numb from the weight, one of his arms completely dead. That's probably part of why he's so /sore/. He didn't have any room to move
with how they were laying on him, so he probably spent most of the night locked into one position.
But he prefers that to the chance of waking up /alone/. It might be dark, but it's /warm/ and he's being /held/, and there's comforting weight pressed all along his body to keep
But he prefers that to the chance of waking up /alone/. It might be dark, but it's /warm/ and he's being /held/, and there's comforting weight pressed all along his body to keep
him from spiraling back into the realm of endless nightmares.
He can tell Dazai is awake too, because there's a large hand cupping the base of his spine, thumb moving over his skin slowly in soothing rhythms. The drag of callouses-- callouses that he now knows came from handling
He can tell Dazai is awake too, because there's a large hand cupping the base of his spine, thumb moving over his skin slowly in soothing rhythms. The drag of callouses-- callouses that he now knows came from handling
a /gun/-- over his skin makes him shiver slightly, a breath of sensation that feels life-changing in how /gentle/ it is.
And for a second, lying there in Dazai's arms and feeling so warm and obviously cherished, Chuuya hates himself.
It's--
It's /complicated/. There's a huge
And for a second, lying there in Dazai's arms and feeling so warm and obviously cherished, Chuuya hates himself.
It's--
It's /complicated/. There's a huge
part of him that /wants/ to blame Dazai for...everything. Wants to blame him for what happened, for his kidnapping, for his pain, for his lingering fear, for the feeling of being /haunted/ by memories.
Maybe it's wrong, but he wants to blame Dazai. Because if he had just /told/
Maybe it's wrong, but he wants to blame Dazai. Because if he had just /told/
him about his past, maybe he never would've gotten kidnapped. If they had just talked, maybe he could've been more careful, more aware, and been able to avoid this.
Hell, maybe he would've been single and moping in his dorm room instead of /this/.
But no matter how much an
Hell, maybe he would've been single and moping in his dorm room instead of /this/.
But no matter how much an
angry, hurting, /seething/ part of him wants to put the blame on someone else just to make himself /feel/ better--
There's another part of him that wants to cling onto Dazai. Wants to be held and cherished and kissed and comforted, wants to be told he's loved and adored, please
There's another part of him that wants to cling onto Dazai. Wants to be held and cherished and kissed and comforted, wants to be told he's loved and adored, please
don't leave him, please don't leave him /alone/ again--
Like everything else lately, it's hard. How is he supposed to slog through a black tar sea of emotions that stick to him, drag him down and drown him?
How is he /supposed/ to feel?
"Are you awake?"
When Dazai's voice
Like everything else lately, it's hard. How is he supposed to slog through a black tar sea of emotions that stick to him, drag him down and drown him?
How is he /supposed/ to feel?
"Are you awake?"
When Dazai's voice
comes, it's soft and unobtrusive. Gentle enough that if he wasn't awake, it wouldn't have woken him up.
But he is awake.
He contemplates for a moment if he wants to answer--partly because he /wants/ to go back to sleep even if only to escape the exhaustion of being awake, and
But he is awake.
He contemplates for a moment if he wants to answer--partly because he /wants/ to go back to sleep even if only to escape the exhaustion of being awake, and
partly because he feels that speaking will force him to /acknowledge/ the complicated knot of emotions-- but he eventually decides that he should.
"Yeah," he croaks, the roughness of his voice making him wince. It's better than last night, but it still /hurts/. There's a
"Yeah," he croaks, the roughness of his voice making him wince. It's better than last night, but it still /hurts/. There's a
particular wet-burning in his nostrils, a remnant of how much water he accidentally inhaled.
He hopes it goes away soon. The reminder is driving him /crazy/. He just wants to /move on/, just forget it ever happened. Just put it behind him.
Dazai shifts, leaning backwards. The
He hopes it goes away soon. The reminder is driving him /crazy/. He just wants to /move on/, just forget it ever happened. Just put it behind him.
Dazai shifts, leaning backwards. The
hand on his back comes up, sliding across his frame to eventually come up to his face. With fingertips so gentle that it /aches/, he brushes the hair that had fallen out of his braid out of his eyes. "How are you feeling?"
Chuuya's kept his eyes closed this whole time, but now
Chuuya's kept his eyes closed this whole time, but now
he can't resist the urge to open them and /look/.
The sight of Dazai's face is a welcome one. He looks /tired/, dark bags under his eyes like he didn't sleep at all, and his eyes are darker than they have been for a while. His hair is messy and he looks so /concerned/ that it
The sight of Dazai's face is a welcome one. He looks /tired/, dark bags under his eyes like he didn't sleep at all, and his eyes are darker than they have been for a while. His hair is messy and he looks so /concerned/ that it
makes Chuuya want to--
Hide, maybe, or maybe it makes him want to /bite/. He wouldn't be forced to acknowledge how /pathetic/ he must look right now if Dazai wasn't looking at him like /that/.
"I don't know," he mumbles again, chewing on his lip.
The hardest part of that is
Hide, maybe, or maybe it makes him want to /bite/. He wouldn't be forced to acknowledge how /pathetic/ he must look right now if Dazai wasn't looking at him like /that/.
"I don't know," he mumbles again, chewing on his lip.
The hardest part of that is
that it's /true/. He doesn't know how he feels because there's so /much/ everywhere he looks.
He's never faced anything like this before. Sure, there's been schoolyard bullies and people that weren't /kind/ to him, and medical scares and accidents in Judo class, but never
He's never faced anything like this before. Sure, there's been schoolyard bullies and people that weren't /kind/ to him, and medical scares and accidents in Judo class, but never
something that came anywhere close to this.
The closest thing was what happened with Shuuji, but that's /different/. He was always expecting that situation to go badly, so when it went /wrong/, it was almost expected. More dramatic than he ever thought, but he was still somewhat
The closest thing was what happened with Shuuji, but that's /different/. He was always expecting that situation to go badly, so when it went /wrong/, it was almost expected. More dramatic than he ever thought, but he was still somewhat
prepared.
And afterward, he had Dazai's support. He had a /system/ in place, one that took care of him and made sure he wasn't badly hurt, washed him up and made him feel better. He wasn't alone, because he had someone he could /trust/.
He's not alone now, but--
Now he has no
And afterward, he had Dazai's support. He had a /system/ in place, one that took care of him and made sure he wasn't badly hurt, washed him up and made him feel better. He wasn't alone, because he had someone he could /trust/.
He's not alone now, but--
Now he has no
one he feels he can /trust/. Everywhere he turns,he's finding more secrets that the people closest to him are hiding from him.
Dazai's secretly an ex-murderer, Yakuza prodigy who still does business with the mafia, and has a relationship with the Yakuza that Chuuya knows nothing
Dazai's secretly an ex-murderer, Yakuza prodigy who still does business with the mafia, and has a relationship with the Yakuza that Chuuya knows nothing
about.
Kouyou is /apparently/ the boss of the Mafia, and has been for years. Been involved with the Maifa for /longer/,and has been feeding him lies for years about how she's working as an accountant at some company.
Liars, /everywhere/, and it fucking hurts. Not only because
Kouyou is /apparently/ the boss of the Mafia, and has been for years. Been involved with the Maifa for /longer/,and has been feeding him lies for years about how she's working as an accountant at some company.
Liars, /everywhere/, and it fucking hurts. Not only because
it makes him /wary/ and feel like he has no one to turn to, but also because--
Don't they love him? Don't they trust him? Isn't he supposed to be /important/ to them?
Why are they lying to him like this? Why do they keep treating him like some /kid/ who can't be trusted with
Don't they love him? Don't they trust him? Isn't he supposed to be /important/ to them?
Why are they lying to him like this? Why do they keep treating him like some /kid/ who can't be trusted with
the truth, someone that has to be /managed/?
If they love him, why are they treating him like this?
Having no support to fall back down when it feels like the ground has been pulled out from under his feet and he's been left to freefall is /awful/. He can't trust anybody
If they love him, why are they treating him like this?
Having no support to fall back down when it feels like the ground has been pulled out from under his feet and he's been left to freefall is /awful/. He can't trust anybody
because nobody trusts /him/.
How is he supposed to trust either of them again? How is he supposed to move on from this?
What is he supposed to /do/? No one ever gave him instructions or a list of expectations. He can't do this on his /own/.
"Does your head hurt?"
Funny how
How is he supposed to trust either of them again? How is he supposed to move on from this?
What is he supposed to /do/? No one ever gave him instructions or a list of expectations. He can't do this on his /own/.
"Does your head hurt?"
Funny how
his medical condition--something that disrupted his life hugely-- has now become the least of his worries.
"Not really," he mutters, "I need to take a Tylenol soon but... nothing terrible."
Dazai nods slowly, the tips of his fingers brushing over his cheek reverentially. He
"Not really," he mutters, "I need to take a Tylenol soon but... nothing terrible."
Dazai nods slowly, the tips of his fingers brushing over his cheek reverentially. He
makes nonsensical patterns over his skin, pressing gentle feeling into an area that was /abused/ only a few short hours ago.
It’s nice, and it’s /easy/, and Chuuya wants so bad for something to be /easy/, so he just melts into it. Turns his face into the comfort and tries to
It’s nice, and it’s /easy/, and Chuuya wants so bad for something to be /easy/, so he just melts into it. Turns his face into the comfort and tries to
leave his racing mind behind.
For a long moment it’s just /that/, easy comfort and soft touches, warmth that starts to clear away the newly hollowed out space inside of him.
Dazai is the first one to stir, fingers sliding underneath his braid and tugging lightly on the loose
For a long moment it’s just /that/, easy comfort and soft touches, warmth that starts to clear away the newly hollowed out space inside of him.
Dazai is the first one to stir, fingers sliding underneath his braid and tugging lightly on the loose
plaits. His hair needs to be redone, but at the same time the idea of doing that seems /exhausting/. “Are you hungry?”
Chuuya wrinkles his nose at the thought of food. He’s not hungry at all, even though he knows he should be. It’s probably been almost an entire day since he
Chuuya wrinkles his nose at the thought of food. He’s not hungry at all, even though he knows he should be. It’s probably been almost an entire day since he
last ate.
He doesn’t even remember what he ate last, come to think of it.
The idea of feeding himself seems exhausting. Even if Dazai does all the cooking, he still has to come downstairs, sit upright, raise the utensil to his mouth over and over again. All while he feels
He doesn’t even remember what he ate last, come to think of it.
The idea of feeding himself seems exhausting. Even if Dazai does all the cooking, he still has to come downstairs, sit upright, raise the utensil to his mouth over and over again. All while he feels
like his body has been turned inside out with exhaustion /and/ he has no appetite to speak of.
What’s the point of it all?
He blows out a breath. “No,” he says, quiet, “I just want to go to sleep.”
He wishes he /could/. Nothing is confusing when he’s sleeping and everything
What’s the point of it all?
He blows out a breath. “No,” he says, quiet, “I just want to go to sleep.”
He wishes he /could/. Nothing is confusing when he’s sleeping and everything
is just...
Gone. He doesn't have to deal with any of it. He can just float in the sea of blackness and just...stop existing.
The corners of Dazai's mouth tip down in a concerned frown, the pad of his thumb brushing over his temple. "If I make you something and bring it up here,
Gone. He doesn't have to deal with any of it. He can just float in the sea of blackness and just...stop existing.
The corners of Dazai's mouth tip down in a concerned frown, the pad of his thumb brushing over his temple. "If I make you something and bring it up here,
will you eat?"
Fear lurches inside him, a new friend that's made a home for itself in his lungs. A living and breathing nightmare that's infected him all the way to the core, something he can never wash out or scrub away.
He hates it. He didn't /use/ to be afraid. There was a
Fear lurches inside him, a new friend that's made a home for itself in his lungs. A living and breathing nightmare that's infected him all the way to the core, something he can never wash out or scrub away.
He hates it. He didn't /use/ to be afraid. There was a
long time where many people called him /fearless/, brave, a force of nature.
Oh, if they could see him now, biting back a shiver at the thought of Dazai leaving him alone long enough to go /downstairs/. They'd probably laugh at him, get sick off of how pathetic he looks.
At
Oh, if they could see him now, biting back a shiver at the thought of Dazai leaving him alone long enough to go /downstairs/. They'd probably laugh at him, get sick off of how pathetic he looks.
At
least, that what he thinks of himself, right now.
He shakes his head, clinging onto Dazai's shirt. For all of his complicated feelings, he would rather /die/ than be alone.
The last time he was alone, he was /taken/. He woke up someplace new and terrible, a room he will never
He shakes his head, clinging onto Dazai's shirt. For all of his complicated feelings, he would rather /die/ than be alone.
The last time he was alone, he was /taken/. He woke up someplace new and terrible, a room he will never
be able to forget for all that he never saw what it looked like. A room that will forever live on in the endless stretches of his nightmares,a room that some part of him will forever be trapped inside.
He did not leave that room whole, he knows that.
"You have to eat something,
He did not leave that room whole, he knows that.
"You have to eat something,
little love."
He ignores the new nickname. It's /cute/, admittedly, and it makes something warm bubble up in his chest, but it's...
It's complicated now.
More accurately, it's always /been/ complicated, he's just aware of it now. He's finally been brought into the light.
"I
He ignores the new nickname. It's /cute/, admittedly, and it makes something warm bubble up in his chest, but it's...
It's complicated now.
More accurately, it's always /been/ complicated, he's just aware of it now. He's finally been brought into the light.
"I
know," he grumbles, letting go of Dazai's shirt so he can struggle up into a sitting position. God, he's so fucking /weak/ right now,it feels like all the strength he's ever had has been sucked right out of his body to leave him limp as an overcooked noodle. "I'll come with you."
He'd rather be exhausted and slumped over in the kitchen chair with his boyfriend-slash-sugar-daddy-slash-criminal-overlord-slash-maybe-ex-boyfriend-slash-love-of-his-life than be stuck up here /alone/.
Yoko doesn't move easily and Baki is particularly upset when Chuuya's arm
Yoko doesn't move easily and Baki is particularly upset when Chuuya's arm
jostles him enough to wake him up, but he somehow manages to sit up under his own power. He's slightly winded afterwards, feeling just as bad as the first day he came home from the hospital a few weeks ago.
Maybe worse,somehow.
Suddenly, the trip downstairs feels daunting. It's
Maybe worse,somehow.
Suddenly, the trip downstairs feels daunting. It's
just /downstairs/, but goddamn if that doesn't seem like a marathon right now.
Dazai follows him up, sitting beside him. "Okay," he agrees, and that tone of mild acceptance, like he's treating Chuuya /gently/ is fucking /infuriating/. He wants to be treated /normally/, and while
Dazai follows him up, sitting beside him. "Okay," he agrees, and that tone of mild acceptance, like he's treating Chuuya /gently/ is fucking /infuriating/. He wants to be treated /normally/, and while
Dazai has always been /careful/ with him--
He's never been gentle.
Chuuya's never /wanted/ to be treated gently, and the fact that he is makes the building tension in his chest writhe with fury. He's not--
He's /fine/. He's /over/ it. He's /home/ and /safe/ and /healthy/ and
He's never been gentle.
Chuuya's never /wanted/ to be treated gently, and the fact that he is makes the building tension in his chest writhe with fury. He's not--
He's /fine/. He's /over/ it. He's /home/ and /safe/ and /healthy/ and
he's /fine/. He doesn't need to be treated gently or like he might /break/.
"Would you like me to carry you downstairs, since you're so tired?"
At any other time, he would probably say yes. He actually likes being held and carried around. Makes him feel light and cherished.
"Would you like me to carry you downstairs, since you're so tired?"
At any other time, he would probably say yes. He actually likes being held and carried around. Makes him feel light and cherished.
Right now, though, he's struggling between a desperate desire to prove to /everyone/-- including himself-- that he's fine, and feeling like he's choking on every emotion in the damn book,not wanting to give /in/ to Dazai so quickly and easily after he hurt him so much--
"No, I'm
"No, I'm
okay," he says, ignoring the burn in his thighs as he swings them over the side of the bed and prepares to take his weight.
He can do this. He /will/ do this. He will /not/ have his autonomy taken away,and he will /not/ wallow in the arms of someone bigger and stronger than him.
He can do this. He /will/ do this. He will /not/ have his autonomy taken away,and he will /not/ wallow in the arms of someone bigger and stronger than him.
He can walk down the fucking stairs.
Which, of course, turns out to be easier said than done.
His ankles ache with every step he takes, a remnant of how hard he struggled in the chair. He has to hold onto the railing desperately, ignoring his frightfully bruised wrists, because
Which, of course, turns out to be easier said than done.
His ankles ache with every step he takes, a remnant of how hard he struggled in the chair. He has to hold onto the railing desperately, ignoring his frightfully bruised wrists, because
if he looks at them then he /remembers/ and then he /feels/, and it's just all too much. His thighs burn with every step down.
It feels almost ridiculous to be /this/ sore. He never even left that stupid chair, so why does he feel like he was run over by a truck?
Dazai hovers a
It feels almost ridiculous to be /this/ sore. He never even left that stupid chair, so why does he feel like he was run over by a truck?
Dazai hovers a
step behind him, clearly wanting to just pick him up and take him down himself--
But at least he trusts Chuuya in /this/. He doesn't say a single word the whole way down.
The chairs of the kitchen table are so /relieving/ to see, the end finally coming in sight, and he manages
But at least he trusts Chuuya in /this/. He doesn't say a single word the whole way down.
The chairs of the kitchen table are so /relieving/ to see, the end finally coming in sight, and he manages
to shuffle over to them slightly faster than he walked down the stairs.
Sitting is hell on his back-- he swears he can feel every step and breath in the aching muscles along his spine-- but easier on his legs. He resigns himself to feeling uncomfortable in any position for the
Sitting is hell on his back-- he swears he can feel every step and breath in the aching muscles along his spine-- but easier on his legs. He resigns himself to feeling uncomfortable in any position for the
next few days, sighing as he draws his legs up onto the chair with him.
By the time he's found a position that feels mostly okay, Dazai is placing a glass of water in front of him, along with three pills.
Tylenol, his anti-inflammatories, and his seizure meds.
He makes a face
By the time he's found a position that feels mostly okay, Dazai is placing a glass of water in front of him, along with three pills.
Tylenol, his anti-inflammatories, and his seizure meds.
He makes a face
at the big round pill of the seizure meds. He hates taking them. They make him sleepy, but in a way that's mostly restricted to his /mind/ instead of his body. Like he's fading around the edges, or too dazed out to think properly, head full of cotton.
He was glad when he was
He was glad when he was
able to stop taking them earlier, because he didn't like the way they made him feel. It sucks to be back taking the again.
Better than having a seizure, though. He doesn't feel one on the horizon anymore, but better safe than sorry, right?
He swallows the pills, restricting
Better than having a seizure, though. He doesn't feel one on the horizon anymore, but better safe than sorry, right?
He swallows the pills, restricting
himself to the tiniest sip of water to do so. It makes him /nervous/ with the cup just sitting in front of him.
Like the water is going to jump out and attack him or something. It's ridiculous.
"Udon sound okay to you?"
It's not Chuuya's usual breakfast, but the idea of having
Like the water is going to jump out and attack him or something. It's ridiculous.
"Udon sound okay to you?"
It's not Chuuya's usual breakfast, but the idea of having
a heavier western breakfast full of sweets and sugar makes his stomach turn. He'd prefer something more /familiar/ to his stomach. "Yeah."
Dazai nods, going through the kitchen to gather all the ingredients and tools he needs.
Curled up on the chair with his chin propped up on
Dazai nods, going through the kitchen to gather all the ingredients and tools he needs.
Curled up on the chair with his chin propped up on
his knee, Chuuya just... watches him.
Part of him doesn't believe that Dazai is really the 'demon prodigy'. It just doesn't reconcile with the domestic, careful view he's always had of Dazai.
Sure, there were parts of him that were /mysterious/ and sometimes even dangerous,
Part of him doesn't believe that Dazai is really the 'demon prodigy'. It just doesn't reconcile with the domestic, careful view he's always had of Dazai.
Sure, there were parts of him that were /mysterious/ and sometimes even dangerous,
but other parts of him were so /domestic/ and /normal/ that it didn't seem real.
What kind of 'demon prodigy' dated a regular college student? What kind of 'demon prodigy' took relaxing baths, went on vacation, ate normal food at normal restaurants? Had a pair of lovable dogs,
What kind of 'demon prodigy' dated a regular college student? What kind of 'demon prodigy' took relaxing baths, went on vacation, ate normal food at normal restaurants? Had a pair of lovable dogs,
a (shitty) kid, and lived in the normal suburbs of the city where all the other high-class families lived?
What kind of 'demon prodigy' took relaxing baths, told someone much younger and less experienced than him that he 'adored them', watched videos on how to braid so he could
What kind of 'demon prodigy' took relaxing baths, told someone much younger and less experienced than him that he 'adored them', watched videos on how to braid so he could
braid Chuuya's hair before he went to sleep, learned his hair care routine so he could wash his hair in the shower, was so /careful/ with him that Chuuya never felt pressured or insecure once?
What kind of 'demon prodigy' would love someone like him and /show/ him that love?
What kind of 'demon prodigy' would love someone like him and /show/ him that love?
Sure, the confessions had been /complicated/...
But even before that, Chuuya felt like he was loved. Felt like he was /cherished/.
So how can the man he loves, and the man that loves /him/, also be the man that caused city-wide terror years ago? It just doesn't make /sense/.
But even before that, Chuuya felt like he was loved. Felt like he was /cherished/.
So how can the man he loves, and the man that loves /him/, also be the man that caused city-wide terror years ago? It just doesn't make /sense/.
This time, it's Dazai who takes the plunge into deeper conversation.
"If you're up for it," he starts, taking a deep breath as he dumps the dry noodles into a pot of boiling water, "I thought I would tell you about my time in the Mafia."
The question is, does Chuuya /actually/
"If you're up for it," he starts, taking a deep breath as he dumps the dry noodles into a pot of boiling water, "I thought I would tell you about my time in the Mafia."
The question is, does Chuuya /actually/
want to know? He /should/ know, he has a /right/ to know now--
But does he want to? Does he want his image of Dazai to change so much?
Is he ready to handle what he's about to hear?
He doesn't know, but does he have any other choice? His only other option is to just... sit in
But does he want to? Does he want his image of Dazai to change so much?
Is he ready to handle what he's about to hear?
He doesn't know, but does he have any other choice? His only other option is to just... sit in
willful ignorance and hope something like this doesn’t happen again.
Even that isn’t an option because his /sister/ is the /boss/ of the Port Mafia, so he’s connected to it all whether he likes it or not.
“Okay.”
Dazai looks thoughtful and strained for a long moment, clearly
Even that isn’t an option because his /sister/ is the /boss/ of the Port Mafia, so he’s connected to it all whether he likes it or not.
“Okay.”
Dazai looks thoughtful and strained for a long moment, clearly
wondering where exactly he wants to start. He plops an egg into a different pot of boiling water, bracing his hands on the counter nearby afterwards.
“My father was… not a very nice man. Nor was he a smart one,” he starts, staring blankly ahead like he’s seeing some other
“My father was… not a very nice man. Nor was he a smart one,” he starts, staring blankly ahead like he’s seeing some other
moment in time. “He was a gambling man. Lost all his money more times than he could count, won it back just as often. He thought he was invincible, untouchable. Lucky.”
Chuuya has a feeling that /luck/ would not last very long in this story. It’s the first time he’s ever heard
Chuuya has a feeling that /luck/ would not last very long in this story. It’s the first time he’s ever heard
of Dazai’s parents at all. He’s never even mentioned them in passing.
“He used to borrow money all the time, so he could keep himself in a certain lifestyle. He always had the assumption that he would just… win more later and be able to pay back his debts eventually. It didn’t
“He used to borrow money all the time, so he could keep himself in a certain lifestyle. He always had the assumption that he would just… win more later and be able to pay back his debts eventually. It didn’t
matter to him how long it took or how much he borrowed. Eventually his debts found their way into the pockets of the wrong people.”
A hush falls over the room, filled with subtle tension. Dazai doesn’t look like he’s enjoying telling his story or even like he’s telling it to
A hush falls over the room, filled with subtle tension. Dazai doesn’t look like he’s enjoying telling his story or even like he’s telling it to
/him/. His eyes are unfocused and empty, like he’s not in his body anymore even though he’s still mechanically going through the motions of cooking.
“My mother was a good woman. Much too good for him,” Dazai continues, one side of his mouth quirking up just slightly.
Chuuya
“My mother was a good woman. Much too good for him,” Dazai continues, one side of his mouth quirking up just slightly.
Chuuya
can almost sense the ghost that haunts Dazai’s words, a silent presence that’s come now that’s it’s been called.
“She loved me, more than I can ever say. She protected me, she encouraged me, she /loved/ me. She was so proud of me because I was so smart— I skipped two grades by
“She loved me, more than I can ever say. She protected me, she encouraged me, she /loved/ me. She was so proud of me because I was so smart— I skipped two grades by
the time I was eight, and I was always one of the highest in the country on the national tests.”
He quiets then, focusing on pulling out the cooked noodles from their pot and arranging them in a huge bowl. Chuuya hopes he doesn’t expect him to actually /eat/ all of that.
“I
He quiets then, focusing on pulling out the cooked noodles from their pot and arranging them in a huge bowl. Chuuya hopes he doesn’t expect him to actually /eat/ all of that.
“I
miss her,” he quietly admits, his voice cracking in the most obvious display of emotional vulnerability that Chuuya has seen yet. “I still visit her grave sometimes.”
Chuuya has never had a mother, but he can’t /ever/ imagine losing his father. He doesn’t know how he would be
Chuuya has never had a mother, but he can’t /ever/ imagine losing his father. He doesn’t know how he would be
able to function or go on with his life without having that pillar of support and love to fall back on.
Is their relationship perfect?Absolutely not. There are lots of things Chuuya would change about his father if he could, but he also knows—
He has been loved since the day he
Is their relationship perfect?Absolutely not. There are lots of things Chuuya would change about his father if he could, but he also knows—
He has been loved since the day he
came home from the hospital. Smothered in love, over saturated with care, hovered over—
He can’t imagine losing that. He could never imagine what it was like for Dazai /or/ his sisters to lose their mother.
Dazai barrels on as he chops some vegetables to put into the ramen,
He can’t imagine losing that. He could never imagine what it was like for Dazai /or/ his sisters to lose their mother.
Dazai barrels on as he chops some vegetables to put into the ramen,
trying to get through it in one sitting. “The Port Mafia wasn’t the same back then as it is now. Back then, it was more of a… loosely organized gang of thugs, debt collectors, murderers. Any scumbag could make it into the Mafia. It wasn’t until one of them started to get /smart/
that things began to change.”
After dumping the rest of the sauce, vegetables and one soft-boiled egg into the ramen, Dazai brings it over to him.
It’s in a bowl big enough for /two/, and smells delicious. Despite everything, Chuuya’s stomach stirs and rumbles in anticipation.
After dumping the rest of the sauce, vegetables and one soft-boiled egg into the ramen, Dazai brings it over to him.
It’s in a bowl big enough for /two/, and smells delicious. Despite everything, Chuuya’s stomach stirs and rumbles in anticipation.
He takes the offered chopsticks and slowly starts to dig in, going for the lighter pieces first.
Dazai sits across the table from him, looking weary and strained. He’s always been /youthful/ in appearance, unlined skin soft and his attitude boyishly charming in some ways—
But
Dazai sits across the table from him, looking weary and strained. He’s always been /youthful/ in appearance, unlined skin soft and his attitude boyishly charming in some ways—
But
now he looks like every one of his years is finally catching up to him.
Or maybe he looks like the ghost of the kid who used to run the mafia with a bloody fist. A kid that’s grown up and changed, but can never escape his past.
“Mori Ougai was a wicked man, and he had /plans/.
Or maybe he looks like the ghost of the kid who used to run the mafia with a bloody fist. A kid that’s grown up and changed, but can never escape his past.
“Mori Ougai was a wicked man, and he had /plans/.
He wanted to be in control of the entire city, and wanted the Mafia to be a more cohesive and dangerous unit. He wanted to make a /clan/ where there was none before, except his clan would not be ruled by bloodline, but by strength alone. To do that, he needed people who were
strong, dedicated… and smart.”
Dazai’s next smile is grim, more of a mockery than anything genuine. “I was nine when he killed both of my parents and took me under his wing.”
Chuuya almost drops his chopsticks, staring at him in shock.
/Nine/? He was only /nine/?
When
Dazai’s next smile is grim, more of a mockery than anything genuine. “I was nine when he killed both of my parents and took me under his wing.”
Chuuya almost drops his chopsticks, staring at him in shock.
/Nine/? He was only /nine/?
When
Chuuya was nine, he didn’t even know what gangs /were/. He was in and out of the hospital, slowly getting better and growing stronger. He’d never even been to a public school yet.
He didn’t even know evil /existed/ when he was that young.
But Dazai had been kidnapped and
He didn’t even know evil /existed/ when he was that young.
But Dazai had been kidnapped and
essentially forced into violence, all before he even hit puberty?
Suddenly, Chuuya has /perspective/ on why Dazai reacted so negatively when he sprung the demon prodigy question on him. He wasn’t just hiding some fucked up shit he’d gotten into as a teenager—
He was a /kid/.
Suddenly, Chuuya has /perspective/ on why Dazai reacted so negatively when he sprung the demon prodigy question on him. He wasn’t just hiding some fucked up shit he’d gotten into as a teenager—
He was a /kid/.
He was a traumatized victim of violence, someone who had been /targeted/, and Chuuya sprung those memories on him without warning.
It doesn’t make /hiding/ that information okay, especially after what happened, but…
He understands now.
“The Mafia is not a good place for
It doesn’t make /hiding/ that information okay, especially after what happened, but…
He understands now.
“The Mafia is not a good place for
anyone, really, but especially not for children. Especially not for someone like /me/. I could have whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. Drugs, weapons, violence, money. It was all mine, and Mori always encouraged me to take more.”
Chuuya looks at him, expression crumpling
Chuuya looks at him, expression crumpling
into something like pity. He hasn’t explicitly said what happened, but he sounds so hurt that it’s not hard to read between the lines.
He raises a finger, stopping his words in their tracks. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened during the Mafia. I know the outlines and I can
He raises a finger, stopping his words in their tracks. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened during the Mafia. I know the outlines and I can
put together the idea of what happened, but the details… they’re gone.”
An entire chunk of his young life, stolen from him. Assumingly so bad that he can’t even /remember/ it, his brain blocking out the pain by blocking out the memories.
“I do remember that there was something
An entire chunk of his young life, stolen from him. Assumingly so bad that he can’t even /remember/ it, his brain blocking out the pain by blocking out the memories.
“I do remember that there was something
wrong with me, though,” Dazai says, voice going rough and hoarse.
He doesn’t seem like the steady, strong man that’s taught him so many things since they met, the man that was the pillar of support when Chuuya got sick.
He seems like someone who needed to be /saved/ and never
He doesn’t seem like the steady, strong man that’s taught him so many things since they met, the man that was the pillar of support when Chuuya got sick.
He seems like someone who needed to be /saved/ and never
was. Not until it was far too late.
“I enjoyed hurting people. I enjoyed hurting /myself/. I was a mess, and the Mafia was a mess I was supposed to fix, and there were times where swore that the city would burn with the matches I struck. I didn’t care about anything or anyone.”
“I enjoyed hurting people. I enjoyed hurting /myself/. I was a mess, and the Mafia was a mess I was supposed to fix, and there were times where swore that the city would burn with the matches I struck. I didn’t care about anything or anyone.”
That's the uglier side of trauma. For some people, trauma makes them /hide/. Makes them anxious, more aware of their surroundings and other people, finetunes their reflexes.
And for other people, it feels like their only option to deal with the ravaging pain inside them is to
And for other people, it feels like their only option to deal with the ravaging pain inside them is to
force that pain onto /other/ people, clawing and biting and lashing out, because hurting other people was always better than being alone in the dark. Hurting other people was easier than letting /yourself/ be hurt again, it was better to be /defensive/ than ever risk the
possibility of being hurt again.
It was easier, and it felt better to hurt someone else before they could /ever/ hurt you. When all the kindness has been ripped and beaten and torn out of you,and you were taught, with ruthless certainty,that every kind hand was hiding a dagger
It was easier, and it felt better to hurt someone else before they could /ever/ hurt you. When all the kindness has been ripped and beaten and torn out of you,and you were taught, with ruthless certainty,that every kind hand was hiding a dagger
and that every kind gesture was a cover for cruelty--
Eventually, you learn that the only things you can trust are your own sharp teeth.
"I killed a lot of people, I won't lie to you," Dazai says, a desperate fervor rising in his voice. He finally looks at Chuuya, /really/
Eventually, you learn that the only things you can trust are your own sharp teeth.
"I killed a lot of people, I won't lie to you," Dazai says, a desperate fervor rising in his voice. He finally looks at Chuuya, /really/
looks at him, for the first time since he started talking. His eyes are huge, all the brown snuffed out to be replaced with a pitch black. They practically shine with misery, the ghost of agony reflecting back at him.
"I killed a lot of people, and I hurt a lot more. Most of the
"I killed a lot of people, and I hurt a lot more. Most of the
time, I relished in it. It was…an escape for me, I guess.”
He wants to be judged and condemned for that, he can tell. He’s laying out all the facts in such a manner that would make it easier for Chuuya to be /appalled/ with his behavior and do something drastic about it.
He wants to be judged and condemned for that, he can tell. He’s laying out all the facts in such a manner that would make it easier for Chuuya to be /appalled/ with his behavior and do something drastic about it.
Turns out there’s one thing about his experience with torture that Chuuya didn’t quite expect:
Empathy.
Before, he’d never felt a visceral desire and urge to /hurt/ someone. Even the people he didn’t like, even Shuuji, even people that were just generally assholes that
Empathy.
Before, he’d never felt a visceral desire and urge to /hurt/ someone. Even the people he didn’t like, even Shuuji, even people that were just generally assholes that
honestly /deserved/ to be hurt. He got angry, and he always pushed back when he was confronted, but he never felt a /need/ to actually hurt someone.
Now, he does.
Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it makes him a bad person, maybe it makes him just as fucked up as Nika is—
But if he
Now, he does.
Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it makes him a bad person, maybe it makes him just as fucked up as Nika is—
But if he
had her tied to a chair, bag over her head and a bucketful of water, right now—
He would do it. He would visit his pain upon her, just so the sharp-edged hole in his chest didn’t feel as /empty/. Revenge is a dish that leaves everyone colder, but he would fucking do it.
So
He would do it. He would visit his pain upon her, just so the sharp-edged hole in his chest didn’t feel as /empty/. Revenge is a dish that leaves everyone colder, but he would fucking do it.
So
when he looks at Dazai now, very obviously in pain, knowing what he does, having the /perspective/ that he does…
All he feels is sympathy.
He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know what /to/ say, silently taking another bite of his noodles.
Eventually, Dazai goes on
All he feels is sympathy.
He doesn’t say anything, because he doesn’t know what /to/ say, silently taking another bite of his noodles.
Eventually, Dazai goes on
when he doesn’t answer. “Eventually I met Sasaki. We never /really/ had a relationship, but she was always up for having sex and I was always looking for a way to feel better, so it happened a lot. Yosano never approved, but it never stopped me.”
That makes Chuuya start.
That makes Chuuya start.
While he wouldn't qualify the doctor from last night as /nice/-- he'd probably go for the term /blunt/ and straightforward, almost to the point of bullying-- he would not have pegged her as someone that was in the Mafia.
Though, now that he's thinking about it, it would be
Though, now that he's thinking about it, it would be
reasonable for someone that Dazai was friends with and that was /involved/ with his sister-- he didn't ask but he's /pretty/ sure they're dating, which he doesn't understand because Kouyou is dating Oda... but that's none of his business-- would be from the Mafia.
"She was in
"She was in
the Mafia?"
For the first time this entire conversation, Dazai actually smiles. It's small, thin and wobbly compared to his /usual/ smiles when he's with Chuuya, but it's there. "Yeah. She hasn't changed much, actually. Still wears the same skull-stomping boots."
If it were
For the first time this entire conversation, Dazai actually smiles. It's small, thin and wobbly compared to his /usual/ smiles when he's with Chuuya, but it's there. "Yeah. She hasn't changed much, actually. Still wears the same skull-stomping boots."
If it were
anyone else or if this was a different conversation, Chuuya would say that was an /exaggeration/.
As it is, he's pretty sure Dazai means that /literally/.
Strange to think that the woman who treated him mostly-gently and checked him out with a doctors brusque care is... also a
As it is, he's pretty sure Dazai means that /literally/.
Strange to think that the woman who treated him mostly-gently and checked him out with a doctors brusque care is... also a
murderer.
Damn, is /everyone/ he knows a murderer? His boyfriend, his sister, his sister's boyfriend, his sisters maybe-girlfriend, probably Shuuji too-- aren't the sons of Yakuza men supposed to be dangerous and unhinged?--and hell, probably even Ranpo. It's like he walked into
Damn, is /everyone/ he knows a murderer? His boyfriend, his sister, his sister's boyfriend, his sisters maybe-girlfriend, probably Shuuji too-- aren't the sons of Yakuza men supposed to be dangerous and unhinged?--and hell, probably even Ranpo. It's like he walked into
a cult where the joining requirements require you to /kill somebody/.
"We were never supposed to be friends, actually. I was being groomed for the boss seat, but Mori always had a habit of keeping /spares/. We both knew that she was supposed to be my competition, and if I made
"We were never supposed to be friends, actually. I was being groomed for the boss seat, but Mori always had a habit of keeping /spares/. We both knew that she was supposed to be my competition, and if I made
too many mistakes or defied too many orders... she'd take my place," Dazai says offhandedly, like the idea that his mentor would kill him off if he didn't please him is /normal/. Nothing worth getting /upset/ about. "But we were friends. Good partners too. They called us Double
Black."
Personally,if Chuuya was in the Mafia, he would've chosen a cooler codename. Like... /Corruption/ or something. Something that actually sounded scary.
"Anyways, one thing led to another and eventually I got a call from Sasaki saying she was pregnant. I was just /barely/
Personally,if Chuuya was in the Mafia, he would've chosen a cooler codename. Like... /Corruption/ or something. Something that actually sounded scary.
"Anyways, one thing led to another and eventually I got a call from Sasaki saying she was pregnant. I was just /barely/
sixteen, unprepared and... genuinely afraid. I remember sitting outside a convenience mart that same night, just staring at her positive pregnancy test and thinking that I had somehow become my father."
Chuuya's stomach twists. He's not sure if it's because he's full, or because
Chuuya's stomach twists. He's not sure if it's because he's full, or because
of the mention of Sasaki and Shuuji, or because of how /self-loathing/ Dazai sounds or because of how /relatable/ that is.
As much as he might love his father, as much as he might admire some aspects of him—
He never wants to /become/ him.
“Worse than that, actually,” Dazai
As much as he might love his father, as much as he might admire some aspects of him—
He never wants to /become/ him.
“Worse than that, actually,” Dazai
says, his smile humorless and his voice so full of self-loathing it must be cutting his tongue to speak, “because at least my father had the decency to contain his cruelty to his family. I made the entire city my victim.”
When Chuuya was being told about the rumors of the Demon
When Chuuya was being told about the rumors of the Demon
Prodigy and the so-called Dragon Head Conflict… it all seemed like /stories/. Stories made up to cope with all the bloody violence happening, but ultimately something that was /exaggerated/.
Dazai has still yet to tell him any concrete details— truthfully, Chuuya isn’t even
Dazai has still yet to tell him any concrete details— truthfully, Chuuya isn’t even
sure if he wants to know, because there’s a difference between knowing Dazai killed people and knowing /who/ he killed— but none of it seems anything less than the truth.
Which is hard to comprehend and even /harder/ to reconcile with the image of someone who has always been so
Which is hard to comprehend and even /harder/ to reconcile with the image of someone who has always been so
kind and considerate to him.
Just goes to show that just because someone treats /you/ nicely doesn’t mean they are a nice /person/.
“Did your mentor know? Mori? Is that his name?”
Dazai nods, leaning back in his chair completely. “Not really. I’m sure he suspected something
Just goes to show that just because someone treats /you/ nicely doesn’t mean they are a nice /person/.
“Did your mentor know? Mori? Is that his name?”
Dazai nods, leaning back in his chair completely. “Not really. I’m sure he suspected something
but I never told him. I knew that if /he/ knew, Shuuji would be raised the same way I was. Oda was always going on about how children needed to be protected and I didn't want to condemn another person to the life I had lived. I wanted to be better.
"I wanted to be someone that
"I wanted to be someone that
my mother would be proud of."
Chuuya pushes the bowl of ramen away, full. For the first time in a while, Dazai doesn't try to push him into eating more.
The meds are starting to kick in now, making him woozy. The exhaustion from earlier is creeping back up on him, covering his
Chuuya pushes the bowl of ramen away, full. For the first time in a while, Dazai doesn't try to push him into eating more.
The meds are starting to kick in now, making him woozy. The exhaustion from earlier is creeping back up on him, covering his
entire body in a warm, heavy blanket.
"Is that why you left? Because of Shuuji?" He asks, fighting the urge to lay his head down on the table. He's so /tired/, and now that the painful soreness is hidden behind a wall of painkillers, it's hard to stay awake.
"Partly," Dazai
"Is that why you left? Because of Shuuji?" He asks, fighting the urge to lay his head down on the table. He's so /tired/, and now that the painful soreness is hidden behind a wall of painkillers, it's hard to stay awake.
"Partly," Dazai
answers, instantly honest. "Partly because of that and partly because I was just... done. I could never handle it, and I tried to kill myself more times than I can count, but there was never an escape. Back then, I knew if I didn't leave soon then I would never leave. I would do
exactly what Mori wanted me to; take over the Mafia and spend what little remained of my life hurting myself and others before I was finally gone."
That's the first time he's ever spoken about any suicide attempts. Chuuya was able to put it together by the long scars on his
That's the first time he's ever spoken about any suicide attempts. Chuuya was able to put it together by the long scars on his
wrists, but he didn't expect it to be /multiple/ attempts. Or to be told like this, so...
Underwhelming. Factual, almost, all the emotions taken out of the equation. It's like he's discussing something easily seen and observed, something that just /was/.
/The sky is blue. Birds
Underwhelming. Factual, almost, all the emotions taken out of the equation. It's like he's discussing something easily seen and observed, something that just /was/.
/The sky is blue. Birds
fly, plants grow in the sunlight and I wanted to kill myself./
Easy, like it didn't mean anything, like it wasn't worthy of sympathy or pity. It just was, another fact of life.
Chuuya will never understand on a personal level. There's been times where he was /close/ to dying,
Easy, like it didn't mean anything, like it wasn't worthy of sympathy or pity. It just was, another fact of life.
Chuuya will never understand on a personal level. There's been times where he was /close/ to dying,
other times when something shitty happened and he thought briefly that he'd rather die than deal with it, other times when he /joked/ about wanting to die, but--
He never consistently /wanted/ to die, let alone attempted.
To see someone in so much pain, to see the ghost of the
He never consistently /wanted/ to die, let alone attempted.
To see someone in so much pain, to see the ghost of the
hurt child that Dazai was, is heartbreaking. How can anyone just look /away/ from that, let alone drive someone to the brink of that?
How can someone make a child do all those things?
"When I told him I wanted out, he laughed at me. The thing about the Mafia is that it's a
How can someone make a child do all those things?
"When I told him I wanted out, he laughed at me. The thing about the Mafia is that it's a
life commitment. The only way to leave is in a body bag. Mori said that, and when /I/ said to bring one up then, it ended in... sort of a stalemate. He didn't want me to die because I was useful, but I wasn't allowed to leave. So he sent me on a mission instead, to Keio."
His
His
mouth drops open slightly. "So the stories about the campus fire were /true/? You actually set the fire that killed a bunch of innocent college kids?"
Dazai spreads his hands over the table, fingertips pressing hard into the wood. "It wasn't... /exactly/ like that. Many of those
Dazai spreads his hands over the table, fingertips pressing hard into the wood. "It wasn't... /exactly/ like that. Many of those
kids were children of rival gang bosses, or politicians or someone that was making too much noise or causing too many problems for the Mafia. The Mafia doesn't have a /habit/ of killing innocent people needlessly...but yeah, I did."
Oh. "Did...you enjoy it? Would you do it again
Oh. "Did...you enjoy it? Would you do it again
if you had the chance?"
Because that's the real question here. Obviously Dazai was in pain back then, too young to know how to really cope or handle it. Chuuya's not trying to /overlook/ that.
But did he change? Is he still that damaged, sadistic kid? Would he still needlessly
Because that's the real question here. Obviously Dazai was in pain back then, too young to know how to really cope or handle it. Chuuya's not trying to /overlook/ that.
But did he change? Is he still that damaged, sadistic kid? Would he still needlessly
hurt people for the /fun/ of it?
Perhaps Chuuya is being /judgmental/ but he doesn't think he can be involved with someone that enjoys hurting other people. Not because he's a /saint/ or anything like that, but--
It's wrong. It's /evil/. Chuuya can't support or be attached to
Perhaps Chuuya is being /judgmental/ but he doesn't think he can be involved with someone that enjoys hurting other people. Not because he's a /saint/ or anything like that, but--
It's wrong. It's /evil/. Chuuya can't support or be attached to
someone who is /evil/. Not even just for the sake of others, but for his /own/ safety too.
If Dazai is cruel, then there's nothing stopping him from turning that cruelty on Chuuya, someday. Sure, he says he loves him and he would never hurt him--
But that's what they all say,
If Dazai is cruel, then there's nothing stopping him from turning that cruelty on Chuuya, someday. Sure, he says he loves him and he would never hurt him--
But that's what they all say,
right? No one ever says ‘hey, I’m going to hurt you because I will enjoy it’. They give you /platitudes/ instead, tell people how much they love them, how they would never hurt them, how they didn’t /mean/ it—
And then they hurt them, make victims out of the people closest to
And then they hurt them, make victims out of the people closest to
them.
The reality is that if people get a thrill out of hurting other people, if they /enjoy/ it—
They will enjoy hurting you too. Even if they say they won’t or never will.
Dazai hasn’t hurt him— yet.
There’s always a ‘yet’.
“I didn’t /enjoy/ it the way you probably
The reality is that if people get a thrill out of hurting other people, if they /enjoy/ it—
They will enjoy hurting you too. Even if they say they won’t or never will.
Dazai hasn’t hurt him— yet.
There’s always a ‘yet’.
“I didn’t /enjoy/ it the way you probably
are thinking of,” Dazai says slowly, and he can /tell/ he’s struggling to be purely honest.
That means a lot, especially right now, but it might not be /enough/.
“But I would do it again. That moment made me realize that the only way /out/ was death— just not my own.”
That means a lot, especially right now, but it might not be /enough/.
“But I would do it again. That moment made me realize that the only way /out/ was death— just not my own.”
(Dazai remembers that day vividly. Not because it was particularly bad, or good, or even very memorable in itself.
He remembers it because he /finally/ made a decision for himself. Not one that was subtly guided by Mori, not one he was instructed to make, not a decision he was
He remembers it because he /finally/ made a decision for himself. Not one that was subtly guided by Mori, not one he was instructed to make, not a decision he was
forced into making by being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
He remembers standing outside the burning building, watching it go up in flames and thinking—
/This is it. I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore./
He didn’t even do the job he was /supposed/ to do— he was
He remembers standing outside the burning building, watching it go up in flames and thinking—
/This is it. I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore./
He didn’t even do the job he was /supposed/ to do— he was
/supposed/ to leave the group alive while they burned, to teach them and all the people that came after them a lesson about what happens to those who anger the Mafia, but he ended up smothering them all instead. It doesn't matter if it was out of mercy or just another strategy--
and all things considered, it wasn't the /worst/ thing that he's done--
But he couldn't stop thinking about what life his /child/ would end up with. If this was the fate they were going to be met with some day, because of who Dazai was. If they were going to be punished because
But he couldn't stop thinking about what life his /child/ would end up with. If this was the fate they were going to be met with some day, because of who Dazai was. If they were going to be punished because
of him.
And, despite everything, despite it /all/--
He did want to be a good person. Not because he has staunch morals, or anything like that--
But because of his mother. His mother, who loved him /so/ much and always tried to keep him safe, who made him warm milk when he
And, despite everything, despite it /all/--
He did want to be a good person. Not because he has staunch morals, or anything like that--
But because of his mother. His mother, who loved him /so/ much and always tried to keep him safe, who made him warm milk when he
couldn't sleep, who hung his shitty drawings up on the fridge, who cuddled him in bed and told him stories of far-off lands, who told him he could be /anything/ he wanted to be.
If she could see him now, she would be ashamed. She would ask him /why/, and he would not have an
If she could see him now, she would be ashamed. She would ask him /why/, and he would not have an
answer. He could only say how /much/ it hurt, all the time, and she would pull him into her arms. She would be sympathetic, because he's her /son/ and she loves him.
Not that he would deserve it, but /god/. What he would give to be eight years old again.
It's at that moment
Not that he would deserve it, but /god/. What he would give to be eight years old again.
It's at that moment
that he first realizes...
He became his fathers son. He became /exactly/ what his father wanted him to be-- smart, powerful, cruel, vindictive, successful, proud, /vengeful/--
And become nothing of what his /mother/ wanted him to be. Nothing the loved little boy he once was,
He became his fathers son. He became /exactly/ what his father wanted him to be-- smart, powerful, cruel, vindictive, successful, proud, /vengeful/--
And become nothing of what his /mother/ wanted him to be. Nothing the loved little boy he once was,
was supposed to be.
It wasn't an easy choice.Self-realization is always hard, and it's not like he didn't have any /obstacles/ in his path. It's not like he was free to choose for himself his entire life.
But this, /this/ decision right here, the one that changed it all--
That
It wasn't an easy choice.Self-realization is always hard, and it's not like he didn't have any /obstacles/ in his path. It's not like he was free to choose for himself his entire life.
But this, /this/ decision right here, the one that changed it all--
That
was his. That belonged to /him/, and even though he should've made it to be a /good/ person,to stop hurting people--
He did it for his mother. Tossed the jacket Mori gave him into the fire in her name,turned away from the crumbling building with his hands in his pockets for her.
He did it for his mother. Tossed the jacket Mori gave him into the fire in her name,turned away from the crumbling building with his hands in his pockets for her.
And then--
He picked up a knife, one last time, and sought revenge for her. Justice for her, in the only way he knew how to deliver it.
Mori didn't deserve a bullet. He didn't deserve a impersonal death. He deserved to feel every /ounce/ of pain he'd put Dazai through for the
He picked up a knife, one last time, and sought revenge for her. Justice for her, in the only way he knew how to deliver it.
Mori didn't deserve a bullet. He didn't deserve a impersonal death. He deserved to feel every /ounce/ of pain he'd put Dazai through for the
last seven years.
The thing about Mori is that he was /confident/. He calculated so hard and so long, systematically destroying any perceived threat to him, that he never looked for the snake underneath his boots.
Dazai never wanted power, which is why Mori never expected to
The thing about Mori is that he was /confident/. He calculated so hard and so long, systematically destroying any perceived threat to him, that he never looked for the snake underneath his boots.
Dazai never wanted power, which is why Mori never expected to
end up with one of his own scalpels in his throat, driven there by Dazai's hand.
Revenge isn't cold or satisfying. Revenge is body-warm, the spill of blood over a carpet that will never forget the stain, an empty chair.
That's how Yosano found him, actually, blood inches from
Revenge isn't cold or satisfying. Revenge is body-warm, the spill of blood over a carpet that will never forget the stain, an empty chair.
That's how Yosano found him, actually, blood inches from
the toes of his boots. Without his usual coat, bandages tightly in place, Boss dead on the floor.
He remembers turning to her, seeing how tense her face was and knowing that /she/ knew that Dazai was dangerous. Not only to himself but to her and everyone they knew and to the
He remembers turning to her, seeing how tense her face was and knowing that /she/ knew that Dazai was dangerous. Not only to himself but to her and everyone they knew and to the
entire city itself. He's self-destruction personified, and he would take everyone with him.
The scalpel got tossed on the floor, the metallic clang of metal loud in the silence. The only thing louder is the sound of his boots as he turns, turning to stalk out of the room with
The scalpel got tossed on the floor, the metallic clang of metal loud in the silence. The only thing louder is the sound of his boots as he turns, turning to stalk out of the room with
his head held high.
As he passes Yosano-- one of his only friends, which is ironic because they were never supposed to /be/ friends-- he tilts his head, offers her a sharp smile. "Chair is yours, dragoness."
Is calling the boss chair the /dragon chair/ disrespectful? Probably,
As he passes Yosano-- one of his only friends, which is ironic because they were never supposed to /be/ friends-- he tilts his head, offers her a sharp smile. "Chair is yours, dragoness."
Is calling the boss chair the /dragon chair/ disrespectful? Probably,
but every royal knows--
Royalty is built on blood and bones, and Dazai has spilled plenty of /both/.
That was the last time he saw Yosano and Oda for a very, very long time.)
"The last person I killed was Mori Ougai, former boss of the Port Mafia and my personal tormentor."
Royalty is built on blood and bones, and Dazai has spilled plenty of /both/.
That was the last time he saw Yosano and Oda for a very, very long time.)
"The last person I killed was Mori Ougai, former boss of the Port Mafia and my personal tormentor."
Chuuya draws up one of his legs, resting his chin on his knee. Part of him wants to be /disturbed/ by that admittance, because /killing/ someone is a very drastic and permanent measure.
But it's not like he can say he hasn't gone out of his way to teach someone a /lesson/ for
But it's not like he can say he hasn't gone out of his way to teach someone a /lesson/ for
hurting him. There was some kid that bullied him relentlessly when they were in elementary school. Always calling him /stupid/, saying he was ugly, that kind of stuff.
It really wasn't /that/ bad, especially looking back on it now as an adult, but as a child, it /hurt/. So, one
It really wasn't /that/ bad, especially looking back on it now as an adult, but as a child, it /hurt/. So, one
day when it went a little too far--
He beat his bully up. Got himself suspended for it, and detention for /weeks/, but it was worth it.
It's not the same thing, but the core idea is the same. If someone hurt /him/ that badly, he can't say he would /never/ go to drastic lengths
He beat his bully up. Got himself suspended for it, and detention for /weeks/, but it was worth it.
It's not the same thing, but the core idea is the same. If someone hurt /him/ that badly, he can't say he would /never/ go to drastic lengths
to protect himself. He's a nice person by choice, but he /does/ believe in revenge.
Besides, wasn't killing Mori a /good/ thing? He was a bad guy, he was causing trouble for /everyone/ and hurting lots of people. He was a /bad/ person, and maybe it wasn't /just/ to kill him, but
Besides, wasn't killing Mori a /good/ thing? He was a bad guy, he was causing trouble for /everyone/ and hurting lots of people. He was a /bad/ person, and maybe it wasn't /just/ to kill him, but
maybe it /was/ right.
"What did you do after that?"
Dazai tilts his head, one side of his mouth quirking up humorlessly. "For about five years, I basically drowned myself in drugs, sex and self-avoidance."
Despite how serious this conversation is and how /sad/ that is to hear,
"What did you do after that?"
Dazai tilts his head, one side of his mouth quirking up humorlessly. "For about five years, I basically drowned myself in drugs, sex and self-avoidance."
Despite how serious this conversation is and how /sad/ that is to hear,
Chuuya can't help an amused breath from escaping him. It's /funny/, in the same way that depression jokes on social media are funny--
Because if you can't laugh at the pain, then you have to cry, and laughing feels better.
"I didn't do anything interesting during that time,
Because if you can't laugh at the pain, then you have to cry, and laughing feels better.
"I didn't do anything interesting during that time,
really. I wandered around the world, never staying in one spot for more than a few days. Technically I /was/ on the room-- from the Mafia and from law enforcement-- but it felt more like...finding myself. Coming to terms with what had happened to me, trying to figure out what was
wrong with me and trying to /fix/ it. I read a lot of those self-help books. I visited Sasaki and Shuuji intermittently, but for the most part, I was alone," Dazai says,reaching out for his cooling bowl of ramen.
Chuuya watches him take the bowl into the kitchen to clean it up,
Chuuya watches him take the bowl into the kitchen to clean it up,
taking the time to dump all the extra food into containers before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. He's noticed Dazai is like that, always likes to keep himself busy and /especially/ so when they're having difficult conversations.
That world-wandering life sounds /nice/, from
That world-wandering life sounds /nice/, from
his perspective. He's not trying to ignore Dazai's obvious mental health issues and trauma, especially in that time, but--
He's always wanted to travel. If he had the chance, he probably wouldn't ever come /back/.
So why did Dazai? Why did he come back to the place where he was
He's always wanted to travel. If he had the chance, he probably wouldn't ever come /back/.
So why did Dazai? Why did he come back to the place where he was
/put/ through all of that? Why did he come back to where he was hurt, where he caused so much pain?
Why did he come back at all when he could’ve started a whole new life somewhere /else/?
He’s guessing he could, anyways. He doesn’t really know how any of that works, but he
Why did he come back at all when he could’ve started a whole new life somewhere /else/?
He’s guessing he could, anyways. He doesn’t really know how any of that works, but he
completely believes that Dazai can do whatever he puts his mind to.
“Why did you come back to Yokohama? Wouldn’t it have been better if you just… stayed away? Started someplace new?”
Dazai doesn’t answer him right away, humming thoughtfully to himself. He’s moved onto making
“Why did you come back to Yokohama? Wouldn’t it have been better if you just… stayed away? Started someplace new?”
Dazai doesn’t answer him right away, humming thoughtfully to himself. He’s moved onto making
breakfast for the pets now.
The scene is so /domestic/—Dazai padding over to the box that holds Baki’s food, expertly dodging the little feline who has come into the kitchen as soon as he heard the bowl rattle, then setting that bowl aside so he can make the dishes for the dogs,
The scene is so /domestic/—Dazai padding over to the box that holds Baki’s food, expertly dodging the little feline who has come into the kitchen as soon as he heard the bowl rattle, then setting that bowl aside so he can make the dishes for the dogs,
then setting them all up in their respective places— that it makes Chuuya /ache/.
Whenever he envisioned his future, it was always something like this. A nice home, pets that loved him, a /husband/ that loved him, somewhere where he felt safe and secure and /happy/.
Part of
Whenever he envisioned his future, it was always something like this. A nice home, pets that loved him, a /husband/ that loved him, somewhere where he felt safe and secure and /happy/.
Part of
him was—still is— so hung up on having that with /Dazai/, that he can barely stand watching it right now.
Because /now/, he’s not sure if he can have it. Not sure if he /wants/ it, not sure he can handle it.
Because he can never go through that again. He can never be tortured
Because /now/, he’s not sure if he can have it. Not sure if he /wants/ it, not sure he can handle it.
Because he can never go through that again. He can never be tortured
again. He’s a /strong/ person— he would never discredit himself by saying he wasn’t— but he’s not /invincible/.
He’s not like Dazai. He wants to /live/.
He’s not like Yosano, either, who looks like she might even /enjoy/ being tortured.
He can’t do it. He /won’t/. If that
He’s not like Dazai. He wants to /live/.
He’s not like Yosano, either, who looks like she might even /enjoy/ being tortured.
He can’t do it. He /won’t/. If that
means giving this up, then…
Well. At least he always has his fathers home to go back to, right?
“My life is here,” Dazai says eventually, after all the pets are happily scarfing down their breakfast. “My parents are buried here, my friends are here. Sasaki and Shuuji were
Well. At least he always has his fathers home to go back to, right?
“My life is here,” Dazai says eventually, after all the pets are happily scarfing down their breakfast. “My parents are buried here, my friends are here. Sasaki and Shuuji were
here for a long time. I didn’t want Mori to win by chasing me out. I wanted to retake part of my history.”
That makes sense. Even if Chuuya were given the option, he doesn’t think he’d /permanently/ leave his family or his home. He wants to travel, but home will always be home.
That makes sense. Even if Chuuya were given the option, he doesn’t think he’d /permanently/ leave his family or his home. He wants to travel, but home will always be home.
Chuuya wants to ask more questions. Wants fo get to the bottom of things, wants to know every dirty and ugly detail. The more he knows, the more informed his decision will be.
But he’s getting tired now. The medicine combined with the full stomach and the lingering exhaustion
But he’s getting tired now. The medicine combined with the full stomach and the lingering exhaustion
is finally catching up with him. He’s starting to fall asleep at the table, eyes growing heavier and heavier.
There’s one last thing he really wants to know now. “What do you do now? You’re still… part of the Mafia, aren’t you?”
Dazai shakes his head. “No. I sell information.
There’s one last thing he really wants to know now. “What do you do now? You’re still… part of the Mafia, aren’t you?”
Dazai shakes his head. “No. I sell information.
I have worked with the Mafia, but I’ve also worked with the other gangs in Yokohama as well as law enforcement. I’m not loyal to any one group.”
Right. It makes sense that information is such a lucrative career, though he’s confused on how Dazai manages a network and the deals
Right. It makes sense that information is such a lucrative career, though he’s confused on how Dazai manages a network and the deals
without being attached to a group.
“It’s a relatively safe business. Everyone wants what I have and no one wants to piss me off enough to send me working with their enemy, so… for the most part, it’s peaceful,” Dazai continues unwarranted, an edge coming into his voice.
He’s
“It’s a relatively safe business. Everyone wants what I have and no one wants to piss me off enough to send me working with their enemy, so… for the most part, it’s peaceful,” Dazai continues unwarranted, an edge coming into his voice.
He’s
trying to convince him that what happened isn’t /normal/. Isn’t par for the course. Kidnapping and torture isn’t something that /usually/ happens.
God, Chuuya wants to believe him. Wants to believe him more than /anything/. Wants to just put aside his fear and pain, and just
God, Chuuya wants to believe him. Wants to believe him more than /anything/. Wants to just put aside his fear and pain, and just
enjoy what was almost taken away from him.
Can he?
“That’s basically the whole story,” Dazai mutters, stalling out in the kitchen now that he has nothing to do. He looks almost /panicked/ without something to keep his hands busy. “Minus the details,but I figured now isn’t the
Can he?
“That’s basically the whole story,” Dazai mutters, stalling out in the kitchen now that he has nothing to do. He looks almost /panicked/ without something to keep his hands busy. “Minus the details,but I figured now isn’t the
time for that. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know but…,” he pauses there, drumming his fingers against the kitchen island, a nervous background noise. “What are you thinking?”
The last question is almost /desperate/. Dazai’s kept it together for most of the conversation,
The last question is almost /desperate/. Dazai’s kept it together for most of the conversation,
telling him his life story with a sort of detached air, like it didn't really /matter/ to him. It's impressive, considering the /last/ time Chuuya got even close to discovering his past, he yelled at him and called him /Nakahara/.
Among all the other things he /should/ be
Among all the other things he /should/ be
worried about, that still manages to haunt him, somehow.
Still, it's--
It's a /lot/ and Chuuya doesn't know /what/ to think. A large part of him just wants to ignore everything that happened in the past and just /move on/, be happy with Dazai.
Part of him is shivering in
Still, it's--
It's a /lot/ and Chuuya doesn't know /what/ to think. A large part of him just wants to ignore everything that happened in the past and just /move on/, be happy with Dazai.
Part of him is shivering in
terror, wondering what painful thing will happen /next/. That part wants to run, flee all the way back home to his father, so he can hide under the covers of his childhood bed, where nothing will ever hurt him again.
But most of him is--
"I think," Chuuya says slowly, letting
But most of him is--
"I think," Chuuya says slowly, letting
his leg drop to the floor. "That I am very tired and I want to go to sleep."
It's /true/ just as much as it is an evasion tactic. His head feels stuffed full of cotton, sluggish and exhausted. His body is heavy and half-numb, the soreness fading away into a suffocating weight.
It's /true/ just as much as it is an evasion tactic. His head feels stuffed full of cotton, sluggish and exhausted. His body is heavy and half-numb, the soreness fading away into a suffocating weight.
Sleeping gives him more time to /think/, but it also gives him more time to recover.
If he's going to make a decision on what to do about /them/-- and he has to, one way or another-- then he wants to do it when he's thinking the clearest. He doesn't want to make a /rash/
If he's going to make a decision on what to do about /them/-- and he has to, one way or another-- then he wants to do it when he's thinking the clearest. He doesn't want to make a /rash/
decision and end up regretting it for--
For a long time.
(For the rest of his life.)
Besides, he /still/ has to talk to his sister and get her story. He's not nearly finished yet, and he wants to have all the facts before he decides what to do.
So he's just going to sleep on
For a long time.
(For the rest of his life.)
Besides, he /still/ has to talk to his sister and get her story. He's not nearly finished yet, and he wants to have all the facts before he decides what to do.
So he's just going to sleep on
it for now. He thinks better when he /feels/ better.
Dazai looks like he wants to /argue/, biting his lip until it looks like it hurts. Waiting for an answer is probably /painful/ for him. Not knowing what to expect or how to prepare for it must be hard for him.
After a second
Dazai looks like he wants to /argue/, biting his lip until it looks like it hurts. Waiting for an answer is probably /painful/ for him. Not knowing what to expect or how to prepare for it must be hard for him.
After a second
and a long, blown-out breath, he nods. He doesn't push him to make a decision right /now/, leaving the ball in his court.
It feels strange to have all the power in the relationship when most of their relationship has been spent with Chuuya submitting to Dazai.
He almost wishes
It feels strange to have all the power in the relationship when most of their relationship has been spent with Chuuya submitting to Dazai.
He almost wishes
he /would/ take control and tell him what to do and what to think.Following orders is /much/ easier than deciding for himself.
But he's also grateful that he doesn't because--
This feels like it might be Chuuya's last chance to escape this kind of life, if that's what he wants.
But he's also grateful that he doesn't because--
This feels like it might be Chuuya's last chance to escape this kind of life, if that's what he wants.
Right now he's still reeling from everything that happened in the last thirty-six hours, so it's easier to separate himself from his /feelings/ for Dazai.
That won't always be the case though. If he stays, if he /loves/ him--
He's going to do it forever. There's no going back.
That won't always be the case though. If he stays, if he /loves/ him--
He's going to do it forever. There's no going back.
There’s no changing his mind because he truly doesn’t believe he will ever /want/ to change his mind.
Maybe he’s young.Maybe he’s stupid.Maybe he’s naïve and all these other adjectives to describe his youthful inexperience—
But some part of him /knows/ that Dazai is it for him.
Maybe he’s young.Maybe he’s stupid.Maybe he’s naïve and all these other adjectives to describe his youthful inexperience—
But some part of him /knows/ that Dazai is it for him.
That’s his /soulmate/. That’s his other half, that’s who he was /meant/ to be with.
More importantly, that’s who he /wants/ to be with. He wants to spend his life with him. Their relationship has never been conventional in any sense of the word, but it has been the /best/ thing
More importantly, that’s who he /wants/ to be with. He wants to spend his life with him. Their relationship has never been conventional in any sense of the word, but it has been the /best/ thing
he has ever experienced.
Not even just the /good/ parts either. The playful banter, the smug teasing, the silent compensation for emotions. How /owned/ Chuuya feels sometimes.
He likes being owned. He likes being taken over, likes following directions, likes wearing the—
Not even just the /good/ parts either. The playful banter, the smug teasing, the silent compensation for emotions. How /owned/ Chuuya feels sometimes.
He likes being owned. He likes being taken over, likes following directions, likes wearing the—
His hand floats up to his neck, fingers wrapping around the sudden-emptiness of it.
His /collar/.
With how exhausted he’s feeling, he didn’t notice it before, but Dazai’s wearing his collar. It’s double-looped around his wrist, the small heart ring pressed against the back of
His /collar/.
With how exhausted he’s feeling, he didn’t notice it before, but Dazai’s wearing his collar. It’s double-looped around his wrist, the small heart ring pressed against the back of
his wrist.
Part of him wants to /demand/ it back. /That’s /mine/, you gave it to me, it belongs to me and I want it /back/./
He’s not going to wear if it he’s not /commuted/, though.
And right now? He’s not sure if he is.
The prospect of climbing the stairs is incredibly
Part of him wants to /demand/ it back. /That’s /mine/, you gave it to me, it belongs to me and I want it /back/./
He’s not going to wear if it he’s not /commuted/, though.
And right now? He’s not sure if he is.
The prospect of climbing the stairs is incredibly
daunting. The trek /down/ was bad enough, but now he has to somehow make the climb /upwards/ when all his muscles feel like painful bricks beneath his skin.
Or he doesn't, actually.
With a sigh, he surrenders his pride. It's not /that/ big of a deal, and he'd rather just go to
Or he doesn't, actually.
With a sigh, he surrenders his pride. It's not /that/ big of a deal, and he'd rather just go to
bed /without/ putting himself in unnecessary pain.
Besides, this might be one of the last times he gets to /enjoy/ something like this. "Will you carry me up? My legs hurt."
Dazai /immediately/ pounces on that admission, head whipping around to pin with a concerned look. "Hurt
Besides, this might be one of the last times he gets to /enjoy/ something like this. "Will you carry me up? My legs hurt."
Dazai /immediately/ pounces on that admission, head whipping around to pin with a concerned look. "Hurt
how?"
Exasperated, Chuuya rolls his eyes. He knows Dazai has /reason/ to be concerned and he only wants to /help/, but Yosano gave him the all-clear /and/ he agreed to go to the hospital if he needed it.
He doesn't need it. Doesn't /want/ it either, because hospitals are
Exasperated, Chuuya rolls his eyes. He knows Dazai has /reason/ to be concerned and he only wants to /help/, but Yosano gave him the all-clear /and/ he agreed to go to the hospital if he needed it.
He doesn't need it. Doesn't /want/ it either, because hospitals are
terrible places to recover, surprisingly, and they'll call his /dad/. He can't explain what happened to him to /anyone/ without getting the authorities involved.
That's just /another/ thing he doesn't want to deal with right now.
"Like I'm /sore/. I'm fine, I promise you. I'm
That's just /another/ thing he doesn't want to deal with right now.
"Like I'm /sore/. I'm fine, I promise you. I'm
just sore and /tired/ and overwhelmed and I just /really/ want to go to bed and it's quicker if you /help me/."
Dazai looks on the verge of calling him a liar, squinting at him like he's trying to detect the lie in his posture. He's probably lucky he doesn't have a phone in hand
Dazai looks on the verge of calling him a liar, squinting at him like he's trying to detect the lie in his posture. He's probably lucky he doesn't have a phone in hand
because he might've just called 119 right off the /bat/. He looks like he's on the /verge/ of it anyways--
Heaving another, /louder/ sigh, Chuuya begins the process of standing up. Most of the pain is centered in his back and ankles, so in theory, once he gets moving, it'll be
Heaving another, /louder/ sigh, Chuuya begins the process of standing up. Most of the pain is centered in his back and ankles, so in theory, once he gets moving, it'll be
easier--
Dazai beats him to it. Before he can even get his weight under himself, he's coming around the side of the table and swooping him up into a bridal carry.
It's a bit /messier/ than the usual way he carries up and Chuuya's toe bangs against the table, but it's still
Dazai beats him to it. Before he can even get his weight under himself, he's coming around the side of the table and swooping him up into a bridal carry.
It's a bit /messier/ than the usual way he carries up and Chuuya's toe bangs against the table, but it's still
/nice/.
Chuuya curls into him, pressing his nose against the side of his neck. His hand comes up, coasting over his shoulder and draping over it, fingers curling in his shirt.
Maybe it's wrong to give Dazai hope-- to give them /both/ hope-- when it still might be /false/ but...
Chuuya curls into him, pressing his nose against the side of his neck. His hand comes up, coasting over his shoulder and draping over it, fingers curling in his shirt.
Maybe it's wrong to give Dazai hope-- to give them /both/ hope-- when it still might be /false/ but...
It feels /so/ nice to be cared for. /So/ nice to be treated gently, to let someone /else/ take over for a moment so he can breathe without the weight of the world crushing him underneath.
Yoko follows them upstairs again, sniffing interestedly at Chuuya's arm. She's been clingy
Yoko follows them upstairs again, sniffing interestedly at Chuuya's arm. She's been clingy
all day, reluctant to leave his side even when she's supposed to be eating or going outside.
The sight of her doggy smile, ears flopped sideways with the tilt of her head, is enough to fill him with the burning desire to /stay/. He already said goodbye to her once, and he
The sight of her doggy smile, ears flopped sideways with the tilt of her head, is enough to fill him with the burning desire to /stay/. He already said goodbye to her once, and he
doesn't ever want to do it /again/.
She's the first animal he would ever consider a /pet/, and that bond runs /deep/.
Dazai sets Chuuya in bed gently, dragging some of the pillows on his side of the bed and stuffing them under his back and between his legs as support.
The bed
She's the first animal he would ever consider a /pet/, and that bond runs /deep/.
Dazai sets Chuuya in bed gently, dragging some of the pillows on his side of the bed and stuffing them under his back and between his legs as support.
The bed
is /heavenly/ on his body, the perfect mix of support and comfort that he sinks into eagerly.
Sleep pulls heavily at his eyes. He barely even has time to pull the blanket up to his shoulder before his eyelids start dropping.
Dazai hesitates for a moment, but when Chuuya doesn't
Sleep pulls heavily at his eyes. He barely even has time to pull the blanket up to his shoulder before his eyelids start dropping.
Dazai hesitates for a moment, but when Chuuya doesn't
move to invite him in, he seems to take the subtle hint and backs off. Yoko eagerly takes the spot instead.
It's only when he's making his way out of the room entirely that Chuuya remembers he has one more, very /important/ question:
"If I wanted to leave, would you let me?"
It's only when he's making his way out of the room entirely that Chuuya remembers he has one more, very /important/ question:
"If I wanted to leave, would you let me?"
Maybe it's /naive/ to expect Dazai to give him an honest answer when lying would be so much easier and beneficial for him--
But he's never lied to him before. Not outright, at least. Never when it mattered.
Somehow, Chuuya manages to still trust /that/ and trust him.
Dazai
But he's never lied to him before. Not outright, at least. Never when it mattered.
Somehow, Chuuya manages to still trust /that/ and trust him.
Dazai
pauses in the doorway, hand coming up to curl around the doorframe. His shoulders are more tense than Chuuya's ever seen them, but his /voice/ rings with genuine truth and honesty. "Yes. If you wanted to leave, I would let you. I would never /hurt/ you."
But he /did/ hurt him.
But he /did/ hurt him.
Whether by lies of omission or vicious words or sheer trauma response--
Chuuya has been hurt by him and because of him. Neither of them can escape that reality.
Now, they just have to move on and hope they can both stay whole in the aftermath.
Turning over, Chuuya hugs Yoko to
Chuuya has been hurt by him and because of him. Neither of them can escape that reality.
Now, they just have to move on and hope they can both stay whole in the aftermath.
Turning over, Chuuya hugs Yoko to
his chest, burying his face in her fur to drown himself in the scent of dog and faint pet shampoo.
He sleeps.
Everything is easier when he's sleeping.
-------- +
The next day, Chuuya finds himself with a /choice/.
He slept nearly the entire day yesterday, only waking to
He sleeps.
Everything is easier when he's sleeping.
-------- +
The next day, Chuuya finds himself with a /choice/.
He slept nearly the entire day yesterday, only waking to
scarf down some food or go to the bathroom. He hasn't had a real conversation with Dazai since the one in the kitchen, choosing to make stilted small talk when he came down for dinner instead.
This morning, when he woke up and it became obvious that he was going to /stay/ awake,
This morning, when he woke up and it became obvious that he was going to /stay/ awake,
Dazai presented him with a phone.
"Yours was... smashed," he explained, delicately skirting around the subject of his kidnapping. "I couldn't fix it, but I managed to input the SIM card into this one, so you should have everything."
The phone is sleek, one of the newer
"Yours was... smashed," he explained, delicately skirting around the subject of his kidnapping. "I couldn't fix it, but I managed to input the SIM card into this one, so you should have everything."
The phone is sleek, one of the newer
generations of iPhone. It's actually much better than his /old/ phone, which makes him snort with irony.
Only takes a kidnapping for a phone upgrade.
He spends at least an hour procrastinating, dicking around on his social medias and making sure all his apps work and his photos
Only takes a kidnapping for a phone upgrade.
He spends at least an hour procrastinating, dicking around on his social medias and making sure all his apps work and his photos
are all in the same albums.
His messaging app gets a thorough combing. The conversation he has with Kouyou gets inspected, wondering if there was any /clue/ about her career choice. If there was something he /missed/, if there was a way he could've known if he was smart enough
His messaging app gets a thorough combing. The conversation he has with Kouyou gets inspected, wondering if there was any /clue/ about her career choice. If there was something he /missed/, if there was a way he could've known if he was smart enough
or observant enough.
He doesn't find anything, which is just as relieving as it is disappointing.
Despite the fact that he knows he has to actually /talk/ to her, he skips past the 'call' button for now and heads into his messages with Dazai.
This is a land full of nostalgia
He doesn't find anything, which is just as relieving as it is disappointing.
Despite the fact that he knows he has to actually /talk/ to her, he skips past the 'call' button for now and heads into his messages with Dazai.
This is a land full of nostalgia
and memories. Pictures of Dazai and Yoko and things he offered to buy Chuuya. Sweet goodnight messages, the time they sexted,date plans.
Chuuya hovers over a picture of them in Osaka, wondering where it all went so /wrong/. There's very little he wouldn't give to go back to that
Chuuya hovers over a picture of them in Osaka, wondering where it all went so /wrong/. There's very little he wouldn't give to go back to that
time of relaxation, lust and /love/. How easy it all was back then, how /natural/.
They never fought back then.
Eventually he sighs and navigates to the calling app. He could text Kouyou, but that robs him of the chance to hear her voice and detect if she's /lying/ to him.
They never fought back then.
Eventually he sighs and navigates to the calling app. He could text Kouyou, but that robs him of the chance to hear her voice and detect if she's /lying/ to him.
She's always been an /accomplished/ liar, but he knows all her tells.
Benefits of being siblings.
There's a little '1' notification hovering over the voicemail section. He almost ignores it entirely because he's /pretty/ sure it's about his defaulted scholarships for school,
Benefits of being siblings.
There's a little '1' notification hovering over the voicemail section. He almost ignores it entirely because he's /pretty/ sure it's about his defaulted scholarships for school,
which he now has to pay /back/ and he’s technically in debt for—
Which fucking /sucks/, by the way, to be in /debt/ when he’s only eighteen, young and with no /real/ career prospects. He spent his whole life working his /ass/ off so he wouldn’t have to take out loans for school—
Which fucking /sucks/, by the way, to be in /debt/ when he’s only eighteen, young and with no /real/ career prospects. He spent his whole life working his /ass/ off so he wouldn’t have to take out loans for school—
And like everyone says, life’s a /bitch/, and he somehow wound up there anyway.
He doesn’t want to listen to it right now, because he can only handle so many things at once and his /torture/ recovery comes before the loan payoffs.
But he should at least delete it, right? Out
He doesn’t want to listen to it right now, because he can only handle so many things at once and his /torture/ recovery comes before the loan payoffs.
But he should at least delete it, right? Out
of sight, out of mind or whatever the saying is.Besides,the notification /bugs/ him.
It’ll only take him a few seconds. It puts off calling his sister a little longer.
Navigating to his voicemail box,he expects to see a call from an unknown number.
It’s not. It’s from /Dazai/.
It’ll only take him a few seconds. It puts off calling his sister a little longer.
Navigating to his voicemail box,he expects to see a call from an unknown number.
It’s not. It’s from /Dazai/.
That in itself is /surprising/— Dazai almost /never/ leaves voicemails, and if Chuuya doesn’t pick up his calls then he’ll send a text instead— but it’s also.. a /long/ message.
Almost a /minute/ long, which is practically a record in this day and age.
It was also left on the
Almost a /minute/ long, which is practically a record in this day and age.
It was also left on the
day of their break up. Not even an hour after the fact, actually.
Which isn’t /that/ long ago in terms of linear time—almost three days— but still. It seems like so /long/ ago.
His thumb hovers over the play button, wondering what it /says/. Is it angry? /Sad/?
Is it an
Which isn’t /that/ long ago in terms of linear time—almost three days— but still. It seems like so /long/ ago.
His thumb hovers over the play button, wondering what it /says/. Is it angry? /Sad/?
Is it an
/apology/?
Maybe he should wait until he’s in a better state of mind to listen to this but—
Only one way to find out, right? He’s never been a coward before, no reason to start /now/.
He presses play, curled entirely beneath the blankets of Dazai’s bed, a protective fort of
Maybe he should wait until he’s in a better state of mind to listen to this but—
Only one way to find out, right? He’s never been a coward before, no reason to start /now/.
He presses play, curled entirely beneath the blankets of Dazai’s bed, a protective fort of
his own making. He has a feeling he’ll need it.
The first second of the voicemail is just silence, offset by what sounds like a miserably wet sniffle. He almost starts to think that the voicemail was just an accident, but then—
“/Baby/—,”
Dazai’s voice is /wet/, choked with
The first second of the voicemail is just silence, offset by what sounds like a miserably wet sniffle. He almost starts to think that the voicemail was just an accident, but then—
“/Baby/—,”
Dazai’s voice is /wet/, choked with
such obvious emotion that it makes Chuuya’s heart squeeze in response. He’s heard Dazai when he was angry, frustrated, pleasured, tired—
But he’s never heard him choke on a /sob/ before.
“Chuuya—“ the fact that he /corrects/ himself hurts, because he doesn’t know if it means
But he’s never heard him choke on a /sob/ before.
“Chuuya—“ the fact that he /corrects/ himself hurts, because he doesn’t know if it means
he doesn’t /want/ to call him that or if he doesn’t think he /can/, “I— I know you’re /hurt/ and you might not want to talk to me—,”
That’s /wrong/. Chuuya /always/ wants to talk to him. He wants to tell him a /lifetime/ of secrets and stories, he wants to tell him /everything/,
That’s /wrong/. Chuuya /always/ wants to talk to him. He wants to tell him a /lifetime/ of secrets and stories, he wants to tell him /everything/,
all the time.
“And that’s /okay/, I just— I didn’t /mean/ it, okay?”
When he says it like /that/, like he’s /desperate/ to be prove it, it’s impossible /not/ to believe him.
In the background, there’s another wet sniff, and what sounds like a faint grumble from Baki.
“And that’s /okay/, I just— I didn’t /mean/ it, okay?”
When he says it like /that/, like he’s /desperate/ to be prove it, it’s impossible /not/ to believe him.
In the background, there’s another wet sniff, and what sounds like a faint grumble from Baki.
"I shouldn't have said those things to you," Dazai continues, the replay of his voice somehow managing to translate the sheer self loathing that sentence holds. "O was just /upset/ and hurt and surprised and-- I'm /sorry/, so just...at least come back for your meds."
Even /then/
Even /then/
he was concerned about his health, and maybe that shouldn't be a big deal but--
Chuuya has learned, from his fathers example, that the people who love you most will go out of their way to make sure you feel happy and /healthy/ at all times.
Dazai made /mistakes/, but he also
Chuuya has learned, from his fathers example, that the people who love you most will go out of their way to make sure you feel happy and /healthy/ at all times.
Dazai made /mistakes/, but he also
tried to /fix/ them and--
Isn't that what matters? Isn't that what's /important/?
"It's only five hours until your next dose. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, and that's okay but just... come get your meds, /please/. You need them."
The voicemail ends there.
Isn't that what matters? Isn't that what's /important/?
"It's only five hours until your next dose. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, and that's okay but just... come get your meds, /please/. You need them."
The voicemail ends there.
The silence is resounding, almost deafening underneath the blankets of Dazai's bed.
He's alone with the realization that--
Dazai /tried/ to fix the fight. It was too little too late, but he called him, he /apologized/, he wanted to /fix/ things. He wasn't expecting /any/ of
He's alone with the realization that--
Dazai /tried/ to fix the fight. It was too little too late, but he called him, he /apologized/, he wanted to /fix/ things. He wasn't expecting /any/ of
this to happen, Chuuya basically /ambushed/ him and /forced/ him to tell him what he now knows is a very traumatic story when he had already /promised/ to tell him, Chuuya was just /impatient/ and didn't want to /wait/.
And despite the mistakes that he makes-- that /both/ of
And despite the mistakes that he makes-- that /both/ of
them make-- Dazai is always trying to pick up the pieces and put them back together again. Trying to make them /better/, learning from what he did wrong and /evolving/--
And always trying to make Chuuya /happy/. He can only think of this /one/ time where he actively /hurt/ his
And always trying to make Chuuya /happy/. He can only think of this /one/ time where he actively /hurt/ his
feelings. This is the one time /he's/ fucked up, and yes, it was /huge/ and it led to unfortunate consequences--
But he always gave Chuuya another chance when he fucked up, didn't he?
Besides-- and this is the /agonizing/ part that he's been trying to avoid thinking about for
But he always gave Chuuya another chance when he fucked up, didn't he?
Besides-- and this is the /agonizing/ part that he's been trying to avoid thinking about for
the past two days-- it's not like he's /blameless/ either. He fell for Fyodor's trick, he instigated the fight, he left the house when he could've /literally/ just gone out in the backyard for ten minutes while he called his sister.
The worst part-- the absolute /worst/ part--
The worst part-- the absolute /worst/ part--
is trying to come to terms with the fact that he's not blameless in his own trauma.
If he had been /smarter/ or less rash, or /trusted/ Dazai or tried to be /kinder/--
This could've all been avoided.
It didn't have to happen like this. This wasn't /meant/ to happen-- it just
If he had been /smarter/ or less rash, or /trusted/ Dazai or tried to be /kinder/--
This could've all been avoided.
It didn't have to happen like this. This wasn't /meant/ to happen-- it just
/did/.
It's unfortunate, it's /horrible/, it's something he has to /recover/ from--
But he can't give up on Dazai. Can't give up on /them/. Not when things are /finally/ starting to go right, not when they're just getting /good/.
Not after Dazai /confessed/ to him, even if
It's unfortunate, it's /horrible/, it's something he has to /recover/ from--
But he can't give up on Dazai. Can't give up on /them/. Not when things are /finally/ starting to go right, not when they're just getting /good/.
Not after Dazai /confessed/ to him, even if
that ended up going wrong too.
He's not ready to give up yet. He's not ready to let /go/, not before he's experienced /everything/ with Dazai.
Plus, it's not like he can /actually/ get away from the Mafia now. His sister is the /boss/ and while she was adept at keeping him safe
He's not ready to give up yet. He's not ready to let /go/, not before he's experienced /everything/ with Dazai.
Plus, it's not like he can /actually/ get away from the Mafia now. His sister is the /boss/ and while she was adept at keeping him safe
for a /while/, it's obvious that time is up. The spell has been broken, and now Chuuya has been dropped into the world of the underground by association.
And if he's going to be here /anyways/, he might as well be /happy/. He might as well have what he /wants/, what he /loves/.
And if he's going to be here /anyways/, he might as well be /happy/. He might as well have what he /wants/, what he /loves/.
He might as well have Dazai, if he'll have him too.
Bolstered by a strange sense of confidence and /motivation/, Chuuya navigates back to his sisters contact information.
This time, he doesn't hesitate before pressing the call button.
It only rings twice before Kouyou's voice
Bolstered by a strange sense of confidence and /motivation/, Chuuya navigates back to his sisters contact information.
This time, he doesn't hesitate before pressing the call button.
It only rings twice before Kouyou's voice
interrupts the ringing. "Chuuya?"
She sounds the /same/, if concerned, and it fills him with the sense of /home/ and safety. "Hey, ane-san."
"I'm so glad you're /okay/," she says, earnest, a hint of tears in her voice. She's rarely so /vulnerable/ with her emotions. "I was so
She sounds the /same/, if concerned, and it fills him with the sense of /home/ and safety. "Hey, ane-san."
"I'm so glad you're /okay/," she says, earnest, a hint of tears in her voice. She's rarely so /vulnerable/ with her emotions. "I was so
worried about you."
Chuuya can /imagine/. Kouyou has always been, for better or for worse, something between a sister and a /mother/ for him. They've always had this weird dynamic where she felt /responsible/ for him because of how lonely her own childhood was and how sick he
Chuuya can /imagine/. Kouyou has always been, for better or for worse, something between a sister and a /mother/ for him. They've always had this weird dynamic where she felt /responsible/ for him because of how lonely her own childhood was and how sick he
was himself and how /busy/ their father was.
It's created this /weird/ bond between them, and he only began to realize it when he started to hang out with Yuan and her sister. Their relationship was nothing like his and Kouyou's is.
"I know," he mutters, curling up tighter. He
It's created this /weird/ bond between them, and he only began to realize it when he started to hang out with Yuan and her sister. Their relationship was nothing like his and Kouyou's is.
"I know," he mutters, curling up tighter. He
has Dazai's pillow clutched to his chest, a meager source of comfort that he clings onto desperately. "But Yosano said I was fine,and I feel better now."
The mention of /Yosano/ brings back the tension between them. It's a reminder that Kouyou isn't who she always /told/ him she
The mention of /Yosano/ brings back the tension between them. It's a reminder that Kouyou isn't who she always /told/ him she
was.
It's a reminder that she might be his sister who cared for him, but she's also a /liar/.
Before she can say anything, Chuuya is interrupting her, barreling onward with the conversation before she can avoid it. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you /tell/ me you're the
It's a reminder that she might be his sister who cared for him, but she's also a /liar/.
Before she can say anything, Chuuya is interrupting her, barreling onward with the conversation before she can avoid it. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you /tell/ me you're the
head of the one of the most dangerous operations in /Japan/?"
The first answer he gets is a /sigh/ and the sound of a tea cup rattling. She's always been a tea-drinker when she's /stressed/.
"First off, we shouldn't be having this conversation over the /phone/ and you should
The first answer he gets is a /sigh/ and the sound of a tea cup rattling. She's always been a tea-drinker when she's /stressed/.
"First off, we shouldn't be having this conversation over the /phone/ and you should
definitely not say things like /that/. This is a conversation that's much better to be had in person."
/Anger/ rises up. Maybe she's right, but she's also /avoiding/ the conversation. She's playing it off, making him /wait/, giving herself time to come up with /better/ answers.
/Anger/ rises up. Maybe she's right, but she's also /avoiding/ the conversation. She's playing it off, making him /wait/, giving herself time to come up with /better/ answers.
Telling him to /wait/ like he's a /child/ or something.
"Tell me now or I'm gonna get /pissed/," he hisses, digging his fingers into the pillow. He /hates/ being left in the dark like this.
Another moment of silence and then--
"Fine," Kouyou says, giving in. He can hear her
"Tell me now or I'm gonna get /pissed/," he hisses, digging his fingers into the pillow. He /hates/ being left in the dark like this.
Another moment of silence and then--
"Fine," Kouyou says, giving in. He can hear her
getting comfortable on the other side of the line. "It didn't /start/ like this, this is just where I... ended up. I joined when I was sixteen, just like every other rebellious teenager. It was /fun/ and dangerous and scary-- but I always planned to get out some day, you know?
I always thought I would /leave/ some day, and go on to have a regular life. Go to college, like you did. It was just supposed to be a temporary lapse, which is one of the reasons I never told anyone. And then... I met someone."
"Oda?" Chuuya asks. They've been together for five
"Oda?" Chuuya asks. They've been together for five
years that he /knows/ of-- he wouldn't be surprised if /that/ was a lie too-- so that would be around the right timeframe.
"No, actually," his sister replies, voice turning wistful. "I met Yosano first. She was in charge at the time, and she just had this...aura about her. I
"No, actually," his sister replies, voice turning wistful. "I met Yosano first. She was in charge at the time, and she just had this...aura about her. I
can't explain it, but there was just something so /fascinating/ and compelling about her. She was /fierce/ and strong and /capable/-- and when she offered to take me under her wing, I couldn't say no."
Chuuya snorts. He remembers feeling something /similar/ when he had a crush
Chuuya snorts. He remembers feeling something /similar/ when he had a crush
on an upperclassman at his high school. "So she was your bi awakening?"
That draws a laugh out of Kouyou. "Yeah, you could say that. Anyways, she taught me a lot. She introduced me to Oda, gave me responsibilities,made me feel things I've never felt before and showed me just how
That draws a laugh out of Kouyou. "Yeah, you could say that. Anyways, she taught me a lot. She introduced me to Oda, gave me responsibilities,made me feel things I've never felt before and showed me just how
much of the world I was missing. I didn't tell anyone because I was afraid it was going to be taken away from me, or that I was going to face serious consequences about it. You know how Dad is-- if he knew I was committing crimes, he'd call the police on me just as quickly as
anyone else."
/That/ is true. Dad is a /stickler/ for the rules and for the law. He's always /insisted/ that all his children follow /all/ the rules to the /letter/, and he never has any sympathy for when they /do/ break them, whether it was an accident or not.
If he knew that
/That/ is true. Dad is a /stickler/ for the rules and for the law. He's always /insisted/ that all his children follow /all/ the rules to the /letter/, and he never has any sympathy for when they /do/ break them, whether it was an accident or not.
If he knew that
his daughter was part of the Mafia, he would /absolutely/ call the police. Even if it meant life in jail for Kouyou.
"You were young then, and you had a habit of /tattling/."
Chuuya cringes at the mention of his /narc/ phase. He was a kid, and it's understandable, but it's
"You were young then, and you had a habit of /tattling/."
Chuuya cringes at the mention of his /narc/ phase. He was a kid, and it's understandable, but it's
/embarrassing/ to remember that he used to tell on /everyone/. He was the /teachers pet/, for gods sake, and if he even /thought/ he saw something wrong, he would go scampering off to tell.
Luckily he grew out of that /quickly/ when he realized no one wanted to be /friends/ with
Luckily he grew out of that /quickly/ when he realized no one wanted to be /friends/ with
him when he was a little /snitch/.
“By the time you were old enough to know and to /understand/, I had just gotten used to keeping my secret. It wasn’t that I didn’t /want/ to tell you, I just didn’t want your opinion of me to /change/. I was scared of what would happen and what
“By the time you were old enough to know and to /understand/, I had just gotten used to keeping my secret. It wasn’t that I didn’t /want/ to tell you, I just didn’t want your opinion of me to /change/. I was scared of what would happen and what
you would /do/. I didn’t want you to become like me.”
That makes Chuuya’s eyebrows shoot up in /disbelief/. “Why? You think I couldn’t /handle/ it or something?”
Unfortunately, due to his young childhood upbringing, he’s always suffered a /complex/ about his strength. There’s
That makes Chuuya’s eyebrows shoot up in /disbelief/. “Why? You think I couldn’t /handle/ it or something?”
Unfortunately, due to his young childhood upbringing, he’s always suffered a /complex/ about his strength. There’s
always been a part of him that is /terrified/ of being perceived as weak or helpless, a part that usually drives him to do stupid shit just to prove he can /handle/ it—
Like refusing to go to a hospital even when he /should/, for example.
“No!” Kouyou says, sounding /l
Like refusing to go to a hospital even when he /should/, for example.
“No!” Kouyou says, sounding /l
/appalled/. “I just didn’t want you in this life because it’s /dangerous/. You’re still my little brother and I just want to protect you.”
Ignoring the part about joining the mafia—which he’s /conflicted/ about, because part of him almost /wants/ to, now that he has so many ties
Ignoring the part about joining the mafia—which he’s /conflicted/ about, because part of him almost /wants/ to, now that he has so many ties
to the Mafia and there’s /no/ other direction his life is taking in the foreseeable future, he gets straight to the /point/. “But you /didn’t/ protect me. You left me in the dark for /years/ and while that might’ve worked when I was still a kid at home, there’s no way you
/actually/ thought that would work /forever/. It’s a miracle I even made it through orientation week without getting kidnapped!”
Chuuya doesn’t have to be there physically to see how she practically rolls her eyes.
“Everything was going /great/ until Dazai showed up. I had
Chuuya doesn’t have to be there physically to see how she practically rolls her eyes.
“Everything was going /great/ until Dazai showed up. I had
everything under /control/. I was planning on letting you take your first year of college and then /slowly/ tell you."
"Was it?" Chuuya asks mockingly, seething with hurt and anger and /disbelief/. Getting Kouyou to /admit/ to her faults is hard-- in her mind, there's always an
"Was it?" Chuuya asks mockingly, seething with hurt and anger and /disbelief/. Getting Kouyou to /admit/ to her faults is hard-- in her mind, there's always an
/excuse/, always a reason /why/. "Was it /under control/? Because-- do you /know/ who my roommate was? /Nikolai Gogol/. Do you /know/ who they asked me questions about?/You/."
Silence.
Yeah, he fucking /thought/ so.
She pipes up again. "I had your entire background wiped, they
Silence.
Yeah, he fucking /thought/ so.
She pipes up again. "I had your entire background wiped, they
had no /reason/ to look into you until Dazai started showing interest in you. I was /careful/, and no one knew you were my brother until he came and messed everything up--"
"Will you /stop/ blaming him? He has his own faults, but /you/ left me in the dark for /years/. I couldn't
"Will you /stop/ blaming him? He has his own faults, but /you/ left me in the dark for /years/. I couldn't
defend myself because I didn't know I /should/ be defending myself. I didn't know I was supposed to be watching out for /criminals/ that know my sister!"
In a weird way, Chuuya actually /is/ grateful that Kouyou never told him about her job. Because if she /had/--
It's likely
In a weird way, Chuuya actually /is/ grateful that Kouyou never told him about her job. Because if she /had/--
It's likely
he wouldn't have met Dazai. Or at /least/ not had the same relationship he does with him now, because it's /clear/ that they don't get along.
"I /know/, and I'm /sorry/ you got hurt, but I never /meant/ for that to happen. I know I should've told you but there was never a good
"I /know/, and I'm /sorry/ you got hurt, but I never /meant/ for that to happen. I know I should've told you but there was never a good
/time/ and I couldn't figure out how to /do/ it. It was safer for you /not/ to be involved with me, I swear. Fyodor never even knew you /existed/ until Dazai pissed him off, and /that's/ when he started to hurt you. I was just trying to keep you /safe/."
"Yeah," Chuuya mutters,
"Yeah," Chuuya mutters,
suddenly feeling absolutely /done/ with this conversation. "That worked out well for you, didn't it?"
"It /did/," she insists, running on blind stubbornness, "You were /literally/ perfectly fine until you started dating Dazai. I've been in the Mafia for /eight/ years now and no
"It /did/," she insists, running on blind stubbornness, "You were /literally/ perfectly fine until you started dating Dazai. I've been in the Mafia for /eight/ years now and no
one ever hurt you until /now/. This is /exactly/ why I didn't want you involved. You shouldn't be dating a man like /that/--"
Chuuya pounces on that, protective instincts rising. "A man like /what/? A man like /you/? Because last I checked, you two are /eeriely/ similar. You
Chuuya pounces on that, protective instincts rising. "A man like /what/? A man like /you/? Because last I checked, you two are /eeriely/ similar. You
both lied to me by omission, you both /failed/ to keep me safe, and you’re both hiding the fact that you’re /murderers/.”
Kouyou makes a /noise/, like that hurt.
Good. /Fuck/ her. She’s his sister and he loves her and he would do anything for her, even still—
But sometimes
Kouyou makes a /noise/, like that hurt.
Good. /Fuck/ her. She’s his sister and he loves her and he would do anything for her, even still—
But sometimes
he could fucking /strangle her/.
Why can’t she see that the only reason he happened to stay out of trouble was /luck/? Maybe she made a deal with her gang friends to keep him safe or whatever, but that was never a /permanent/ solution.
She was so wrapped up in keeping herself
Why can’t she see that the only reason he happened to stay out of trouble was /luck/? Maybe she made a deal with her gang friends to keep him safe or whatever, but that was never a /permanent/ solution.
She was so wrapped up in keeping herself
out of jail, keeping their relationship /steady/ that she forgot that he had a /right/ to know because it put him in danger.
(Neither of them are thinking /rationally/. Chuuya is still reeling with emotions and recovery, and Kouyou is drowning in guilt and struggling to pick up
(Neither of them are thinking /rationally/. Chuuya is still reeling with emotions and recovery, and Kouyou is drowning in guilt and struggling to pick up
the pieces of what happened.
The best— and worst— thing about siblings is that they /fight/. For better or for worse, their stresses are always best taken out on each other. It gets better as they grow older, but—
Siblings fight, viciously so, especially when they’re /scared/
The best— and worst— thing about siblings is that they /fight/. For better or for worse, their stresses are always best taken out on each other. It gets better as they grow older, but—
Siblings fight, viciously so, especially when they’re /scared/
and confused.
But they will /always/ find their way back to each other.)
“The only difference that /I/ see is that /you/ chose to be in the Mafia and /he/ didn’t— which makes him a /better/ person than you, in the end,” Chuuya finishes with a hiss, yanking the phone away from
But they will /always/ find their way back to each other.)
“The only difference that /I/ see is that /you/ chose to be in the Mafia and /he/ didn’t— which makes him a /better/ person than you, in the end,” Chuuya finishes with a hiss, yanking the phone away from
his ear and smashing the end call button.
He ignores the immediate call back in favor of burying his face into the pillow and screaming out his frustrations.
Sometimes, family is the most frustrating thing in the /entire/ world. They're a /pain/ to deal with, they hurt him,
He ignores the immediate call back in favor of burying his face into the pillow and screaming out his frustrations.
Sometimes, family is the most frustrating thing in the /entire/ world. They're a /pain/ to deal with, they hurt him,
they /smother/ him, they try to tell him what to /do/, they piss him off, they make him /sad/.
But that's still his /family/. That's still his sister, and he'll forgive her some day.
Just not today.
Today, he's /angry/.
----- +
The next two weeks is...surprisingly easy.
But that's still his /family/. That's still his sister, and he'll forgive her some day.
Just not today.
Today, he's /angry/.
----- +
The next two weeks is...surprisingly easy.
Trauma has a way of freezing time. Of breaking something off of you and /freezing/ that part into an endless nightmare, refusing to let go of it.
Part of him will always be stuck in that dark, muggy room with a bag tied over his head. Part of him will /always/ have nightmares
Part of him will always be stuck in that dark, muggy room with a bag tied over his head. Part of him will /always/ have nightmares
and will always be aware of how much water can /hurt/.
But the rest of him.. those parts get to move on. Get to continue living his life.
He feels better by the day. The physical soreness disappears after another two days. His /headaches/ slowly get less and less painful as the
But the rest of him.. those parts get to move on. Get to continue living his life.
He feels better by the day. The physical soreness disappears after another two days. His /headaches/ slowly get less and less painful as the
days go by, until one day he just wakes up and doesn't have a headache for the entire day.
He's able to get off his seizure meds again, something he's grateful for. The other meds-- the anti-viral-- he still takes religiously, and it feels like they're /working/.
His energy
He's able to get off his seizure meds again, something he's grateful for. The other meds-- the anti-viral-- he still takes religiously, and it feels like they're /working/.
His energy
has slowly returned. It's not the /same/ as when he started college, but it's a little bit better than when he was kidnapped. Every day, he needs a nap in the middle of the day less and less.
His appetite returns, even if slightly less. He's able to /drink/ water without feeling
His appetite returns, even if slightly less. He's able to /drink/ water without feeling
like he's about to /die/.
His /biggest/ achievement, he thinks, is that after almost two weeks, he's able to take a shower by himself again. It's slow-going and he has to be /careful/ not to push himself too hard, but the first time he's able to get into the shower without
His /biggest/ achievement, he thinks, is that after almost two weeks, he's able to take a shower by himself again. It's slow-going and he has to be /careful/ not to push himself too hard, but the first time he's able to get into the shower without
Dazai being there.
Speaking of Dazai, their relationship has been on a...
A break, some might call it. They haven't actually /talked/ about it, because Chuuya isn't ready to talk about the break up yet. It still /hurts/ and there's already so much on his plate that he feels
Speaking of Dazai, their relationship has been on a...
A break, some might call it. They haven't actually /talked/ about it, because Chuuya isn't ready to talk about the break up yet. It still /hurts/ and there's already so much on his plate that he feels
like he might shatter like glass if he takes on anything more.
They do talk about other things though. Dazai's past, his current work, his relationship with the criminal underground. Chuuya's family, his childhood, how Dazai can help him feel better. Stuff like that interspersed
They do talk about other things though. Dazai's past, his current work, his relationship with the criminal underground. Chuuya's family, his childhood, how Dazai can help him feel better. Stuff like that interspersed
between talks about dinner, the show they're watching, talks about taking Baki to the /vet/ for his shots.
Domestic stuff. Normal stuff.
Dazai doesn't /push/ him, but he's open in a way that he never was before. He answers every question Chuuya has without hesitation and offers
Domestic stuff. Normal stuff.
Dazai doesn't /push/ him, but he's open in a way that he never was before. He answers every question Chuuya has without hesitation and offers
up pieces of his life story like little treasures.
Chuuya never realized how /much/ Dazai was hiding until that veil of secrecy was ripped away. He’s still the same /person/, but he has more depth now, like he’s sharing his /soul/.
It’s what Chuuya deserves but it’s more
Chuuya never realized how /much/ Dazai was hiding until that veil of secrecy was ripped away. He’s still the same /person/, but he has more depth now, like he’s sharing his /soul/.
It’s what Chuuya deserves but it’s more
than he /expected/, and it just—
It leaves him torn in a state of /frustration/— because he should’ve gotten this Dazai in the /beginning/, he should’ve been like this the entire time— and also /awe/ because—
The more he learns about him, the more he /feels/ for him. Not just
It leaves him torn in a state of /frustration/— because he should’ve gotten this Dazai in the /beginning/, he should’ve been like this the entire time— and also /awe/ because—
The more he learns about him, the more he /feels/ for him. Not just
love— which is /growing/ in his chest again, Chuuya can’t deny that— but also /sympathy/ and anger on his behalf and /pride/ that he came so far on his own.
Dazai Osamu is an enigma that is opened to his eyes /only/ and it feels like he could spend his entire life putting him
Dazai Osamu is an enigma that is opened to his eyes /only/ and it feels like he could spend his entire life putting him
together. Putting all the details into place, building /stories/ from him and with him.
Their relationship is /slightly/ strained and not on the same level as before— they don’t /kiss/ because Chuuya hasn’t indicated he wants that again, they don’t /fuck/. They’re tiptoeing
Their relationship is /slightly/ strained and not on the same level as before— they don’t /kiss/ because Chuuya hasn’t indicated he wants that again, they don’t /fuck/. They’re tiptoeing
around what they had before, Dazai waiting /patiently/ for Chuuya to make up his mind.
They still sleep together, most nights. Shower together too, because it’s /harder/ for Chuuya to shower now, especially by himself. Eat together, take the dogs on walks together.
It’s
They still sleep together, most nights. Shower together too, because it’s /harder/ for Chuuya to shower now, especially by himself. Eat together, take the dogs on walks together.
It’s
not /all/ perfect, of course—
Chuuya’s /angry/ a lot of the time now. Sometimes when he wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare or when he’s struck with the realization that he /can’t/ take a bath now, and he’ll just—
He’ll get so fucking /angry/ about what
Chuuya’s /angry/ a lot of the time now. Sometimes when he wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare or when he’s struck with the realization that he /can’t/ take a bath now, and he’ll just—
He’ll get so fucking /angry/ about what
happened that he just wants to /destroy/ something, wants to /hurt/ someone just to get a handle on his /own/ pain, wants to scratch and bite and /rip/—
Dazai ends up hanging a punching bag in Shuuji’s old room, and some days Chuuya would just beat the /shit/ out of it until he
Dazai ends up hanging a punching bag in Shuuji’s old room, and some days Chuuya would just beat the /shit/ out of it until he
tires himself out.
The hardest thing to wrap his head around is the fact that recovery is a /process/. It’s not linear, it’s not /steady/.
Some days he feels like he’s /leaped/ forward in terms of progress, and other days it feels like he’s taken three steps backward. Some days
The hardest thing to wrap his head around is the fact that recovery is a /process/. It’s not linear, it’s not /steady/.
Some days he feels like he’s /leaped/ forward in terms of progress, and other days it feels like he’s taken three steps backward. Some days
he’s able to pretend that nothing ever happened at all.
Other days, it’s like he’ll never be able to move /past/ it. He’ll never be /normal/ again, he’ll always be this warped, damaged version of himself.
It all comes to a head on the day of his neurology check-up with Gide.
Other days, it’s like he’ll never be able to move /past/ it. He’ll never be /normal/ again, he’ll always be this warped, damaged version of himself.
It all comes to a head on the day of his neurology check-up with Gide.
It’s six weeks after his diagnosis, a wellness check to see how well he’s responding to rhe medication and how well he’s recovering. If anything needs to be adjusted, it’ll be in this appointment.
It’s also, secretly in Chuuya’s mind, a measure on if he’s ever going to be
It’s also, secretly in Chuuya’s mind, a measure on if he’s ever going to be
/normal/ again. If there’s even a /point/ to trying to move on, a point to trying to have a live when his body is too sickness-prone and too /weak/.
Honestly, he’s not expecting good news. His recovery times have always been abysmally long, and he’s not expecting anything
Honestly, he’s not expecting good news. His recovery times have always been abysmally long, and he’s not expecting anything
différent with this encounter.
He’s /fully/ expecting to go home with another regimen of recovery instructions, probably new meds. Maybe a referral to a specialist, or told to come back again in another thirty days so they can try again.
It creates this /depression/ in him
He’s /fully/ expecting to go home with another regimen of recovery instructions, probably new meds. Maybe a referral to a specialist, or told to come back again in another thirty days so they can try again.
It creates this /depression/ in him
before he goes, one that isn’t helped by the fact that he asked Dazai to wait in the lobby.
If he’s going to get bad news, he wants some time to process it /alone/ first before he has to reveal to Dazai that he’s going to be an /invalid/ for the foreseeable future.
Gide runs
If he’s going to get bad news, he wants some time to process it /alone/ first before he has to reveal to Dazai that he’s going to be an /invalid/ for the foreseeable future.
Gide runs
him through a battery of tests. All his vitals, his weight, how he’s been /feeling/. Asks him before he has any concerns before sending him up to get an MRI.
Getting the images back is the longest part of the appointment, almost an hour in itself. It’s the quickest Chuuya’s ever
Getting the images back is the longest part of the appointment, almost an hour in itself. It’s the quickest Chuuya’s ever
gotten tests back— perks of Dazai’s ridiculous insurance policy— but still long enough that he is forced to twiddle his thumbs and stare at the wall for a horribly long time.
Eventually, Gide comes back, brown folder in hand. Chuuya perks up when he sees him because—
Hé
Eventually, Gide comes back, brown folder in hand. Chuuya perks up when he sees him because—
Hé
doesn’t /look/ like he has bad news.
In fact, he almost looks like he has /good/ news. Happy, in a subtle and professional way.
He gets right to the chase. “Well, Chuuya, I’m happy to say you have recovered remarkably well. There is still some swelling, but nothing that U would
In fact, he almost looks like he has /good/ news. Happy, in a subtle and professional way.
He gets right to the chase. “Well, Chuuya, I’m happy to say you have recovered remarkably well. There is still some swelling, but nothing that U would
consider dangerous. I’m going to prescribe you another thirty days of the anti-virals, and I do recommend that you keep taking anti-inflammatories whenever you think you need them— but otherwise, I’m happy to say that you can slowly go back to your normal life now.”
Chuuya’s
Chuuya’s
breath stalls out.
He’s /okay/? Even with everything that happened to him, even with the /hours/ of literal torture that deprived oxygen to his brain, he’s /okay/?
He’s not going to be stuck in this /endless/ cycle of fighting for every second of recovery? He can go back to
He’s /okay/? Even with everything that happened to him, even with the /hours/ of literal torture that deprived oxygen to his brain, he’s /okay/?
He’s not going to be stuck in this /endless/ cycle of fighting for every second of recovery? He can go back to
/collège/ next semester?
“Now, this is /not/ an invitation to be reckless,” Gide says, pinning him with a stern look. “You need to continue your self-care routines and look after yourself. I want to see you again in ninety days for a final follow up. Lots of rest and care are
“Now, this is /not/ an invitation to be reckless,” Gide says, pinning him with a stern look. “You need to continue your self-care routines and look after yourself. I want to see you again in ninety days for a final follow up. Lots of rest and care are
still imperative, but you can slowly go back to your normal routines as you continue to feel better.”
“Oh,” Chuuya says dumbly, feeling so /relieved/ that he doesn’t really have words for it. /Floored/ too, because he was /so/ worried that the water boarding set him /back/ in
“Oh,” Chuuya says dumbly, feeling so /relieved/ that he doesn’t really have words for it. /Floored/ too, because he was /so/ worried that the water boarding set him /back/ in
his recovery. Possibly made it so he could /never/ recover, and that he would always have to deal with the problems caused by something he had no choice or control over.
Like he would /forever/ be working with such low-energy that he had to take a minimum of one nap a day, he
Like he would /forever/ be working with such low-energy that he had to take a minimum of one nap a day, he
would /always/ suffer from chronic headaches, he would /never/ be able to go back to school or work, he would never have what he envisioned as a /normal/ life.
It was depressing to think about but--
Now he has /proof/ that life does go on, life /does/ get better and--
He has
It was depressing to think about but--
Now he has /proof/ that life does go on, life /does/ get better and--
He has
to live his life now. He has to /choose/ his life.
But he already /did/,and now he has to choose it /again/.
The rest of the appointment is a blur. Gide doesn't hold him much longer,and releases him with another prescription for the anti-viral.
The hallways are quietly sterile
But he already /did/,and now he has to choose it /again/.
The rest of the appointment is a blur. Gide doesn't hold him much longer,and releases him with another prescription for the anti-viral.
The hallways are quietly sterile
and empty as he makes his way back to the lobby, paper clutched in hand.
Dazai is waiting for him in the lobby, perking up as /soon/ as the door opens. He stands up to meet him halfway, and /god/, the sight of him makes Chuuya's heart swell in his chest.
"Good news," he tells
Dazai is waiting for him in the lobby, perking up as /soon/ as the door opens. He stands up to meet him halfway, and /god/, the sight of him makes Chuuya's heart swell in his chest.
"Good news," he tells
him before he can even ask because he can /see/ the worry on his face. "I have another prescription and an appointment in ninety days, but other than that... I got better."
The relief is evident in Dazai's exhale. He doesn't reach out to touch him-- he's been /hesitant/ with
The relief is evident in Dazai's exhale. He doesn't reach out to touch him-- he's been /hesitant/ with
physical touch in a way that he never has been before, something that Chuuya /appreciates/ because it means he's trying to respect unseen boundaries but also /mourns/ because he /wants/ to be touched by Dazai--but the tension melts off his expression.
"That's good," he breathes,
"That's good," he breathes,
sounding /so/ relieved. "That's /really/ good."
It is. In more ways than one, because now Chuuya feels like there's /progress/. He has /motivation/ now.
The ride home is surprisingly quiet, filled mostly with music. Dazai offers to pick up his prescription later that week and
It is. In more ways than one, because now Chuuya feels like there's /progress/. He has /motivation/ now.
The ride home is surprisingly quiet, filled mostly with music. Dazai offers to pick up his prescription later that week and
they pick up food to celebrate his good news.
They eat in comfortable silence, before Chuuya heads up to shower alone.
It's still a /process/ for him, and his face hasn't had a /thorough/ scrubbing yet, but he manages to clean all of himself. It just takes patience and
They eat in comfortable silence, before Chuuya heads up to shower alone.
It's still a /process/ for him, and his face hasn't had a /thorough/ scrubbing yet, but he manages to clean all of himself. It just takes patience and
persistence, something that Chuuya is /learning/.
But it's worth it to get out, fresh and clean and wrapped in a warm towel, and feel /almost/ normal again.
His sleeping clothes are stacked near the sink and he pulls them on before doing his nightly care routine. The sight of
But it's worth it to get out, fresh and clean and wrapped in a warm towel, and feel /almost/ normal again.
His sleeping clothes are stacked near the sink and he pulls them on before doing his nightly care routine. The sight of
his products lined up next to Dazai's makes his heart skip a beat in his chest.
When he's finished, he takes a deep breath for courage and exits.
Dazai is on the bed, propped up against the headboard and reading some book. Chuuya has to stop in the doorway and just.. /stare/ at
When he's finished, he takes a deep breath for courage and exits.
Dazai is on the bed, propped up against the headboard and reading some book. Chuuya has to stop in the doorway and just.. /stare/ at
him. Just take him in because—
There’s a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, softening the sharper angles of his face into this /welcoming/ vision of domesticity. The book he’s reading is some game theory book, one that’s probably too /complicated/ for Chuuya to read
There’s a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, softening the sharper angles of his face into this /welcoming/ vision of domesticity. The book he’s reading is some game theory book, one that’s probably too /complicated/ for Chuuya to read
unless he was willing to put the time in to actually study it. He’s wearing some comfortable sweater and a pair of jogging sweats, hair messy, and he just —
He looks like /home/.
— this is the man he /loves/. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. So /fiercely/ that he can’t believe he
He looks like /home/.
— this is the man he /loves/. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. So /fiercely/ that he can’t believe he
ever believed he was going to give him up. That’s his /life/ right there, on that bed.
The first step he takes forward feels like the first /active/ choice he makes in choosing his life. How he ended up here was just happenstance, just coincidence, something he didn’t /know/ he
The first step he takes forward feels like the first /active/ choice he makes in choosing his life. How he ended up here was just happenstance, just coincidence, something he didn’t /know/ he
was getting into.
Dazai chose /him/ and now—
Chuuya’s choosing him /back/.
Brown eyes, heart-achingly beautiful behind the glasses, look up at him when Chuuya crawls onto the bed. They have so much /depth/, it’s like he could look into them /forever/ and always find another
Dazai chose /him/ and now—
Chuuya’s choosing him /back/.
Brown eyes, heart-achingly beautiful behind the glasses, look up at him when Chuuya crawls onto the bed. They have so much /depth/, it’s like he could look into them /forever/ and always find another
spot of gold, another reason to love him.
The book gets tossed to the side when Chuuya settles in his lap. It’s one of the few times he’s /taller/ than Dazai, and it never fails to make him feel /powerful/ in ways that don’t have to do with strength or skill.
“We should talk.”
The book gets tossed to the side when Chuuya settles in his lap. It’s one of the few times he’s /taller/ than Dazai, and it never fails to make him feel /powerful/ in ways that don’t have to do with strength or skill.
“We should talk.”
The spark of anxiety in Dazai’s eyes is /visible/. His hands find his thighs, fingers digging lightly into him like he’s afraid he’s going to slip away. Like he’s afraid he’s going to /lose/ Chuuya.
“Okay,” he murmurs, staring up at him with a certain desperation, eyes flirting
“Okay,” he murmurs, staring up at him with a certain desperation, eyes flirting
over his features like he’s trying to /memorize/ them. “What about?”
(Just like Chuuya was earlier, he’s expecting bad news. He’s expecting the /end/.)
Thoughtful, trying to put all his emotions into coherent sentences, Chuuya let’s his hands coast up Dazai’s front. Presses his
(Just like Chuuya was earlier, he’s expecting bad news. He’s expecting the /end/.)
Thoughtful, trying to put all his emotions into coherent sentences, Chuuya let’s his hands coast up Dazai’s front. Presses his
palms to the planes of his chest, reveling in the feeling of hot, firm muscle under his hands. Drags them up over his chest and his shoulders, to finally end up with the tips of his fingers playing with the ends of Dazai’s hair.
It’s the first time he’s /really/ touched him
It’s the first time he’s /really/ touched him
with the intent of pure, simple enjoyment since he was rescued.
Taking a deep breath, Chuuya begins the speech he was practicing on the entire drive home:
“I’m sorry.”
It’s /not/ what Dazai was expecting, clearly. His eyes go wide with shock before blinking at him dumbly.
Taking a deep breath, Chuuya begins the speech he was practicing on the entire drive home:
“I’m sorry.”
It’s /not/ what Dazai was expecting, clearly. His eyes go wide with shock before blinking at him dumbly.
Then his mouth opens. “You don’t have to—“
Chuuya cuts him off, tugging lightly on his hair at the same time he shakes his head. “I do,” he insists, giving him a shaky smile, “because I deserve an apology from /you/. But I hurt you too, and it’s not fair for me to get an apology
Chuuya cuts him off, tugging lightly on his hair at the same time he shakes his head. “I do,” he insists, giving him a shaky smile, “because I deserve an apology from /you/. But I hurt you too, and it’s not fair for me to get an apology
from you without doing the same.”
He still looks hesitant. Not arguing /yet/ but clearly on the verge of doing so.
Dazai probably thinks he doesn’t deserve an apology. He’s never expressed a need or desire for one, and he’s never even outwardly expressed being angry with
He still looks hesitant. Not arguing /yet/ but clearly on the verge of doing so.
Dazai probably thinks he doesn’t deserve an apology. He’s never expressed a need or desire for one, and he’s never even outwardly expressed being angry with
Chuuya over their fight but—
Over the last two weeks, he’s done a /lot/ of thinking. The first few days were full of anger and frustration and /pain/, wanting to believe he never did /anything/ wrong.
Then he listened to the voicemail again and again, a dozen times over, and
Over the last two weeks, he’s done a /lot/ of thinking. The first few days were full of anger and frustration and /pain/, wanting to believe he never did /anything/ wrong.
Then he listened to the voicemail again and again, a dozen times over, and
he eventually came to the conclusion that, while he /absolutely/ has the right to be angry and hurt with Dazai—
He hurt Dazai too, and he loves him enough to put aside his pride and his own hurt feelings long enough to address that.
“So what we’re gonna do is… I’m going to
He hurt Dazai too, and he loves him enough to put aside his pride and his own hurt feelings long enough to address that.
“So what we’re gonna do is… I’m going to
apologize to you. You’re going to apologize to /me/. And then we’re going to talk. Sounds good?”
The hands on his thighs firm, Dazai finally daring to take a /real/ hold on him, to touch him properly without any hesitation insecurity. His thumbs rub over the insides of his
The hands on his thighs firm, Dazai finally daring to take a /real/ hold on him, to touch him properly without any hesitation insecurity. His thumbs rub over the insides of his
thighs, pushing up the shorts he’s wearing coincidentally.
“Okay,” he agrees, voice going soft and reverential, an homage to the quietly intense moment beginning to grow between them.
Dazai’s hair is soft and vibrant under his fingers, something he draws courage from. “I’m
“Okay,” he agrees, voice going soft and reverential, an homage to the quietly intense moment beginning to grow between them.
Dazai’s hair is soft and vibrant under his fingers, something he draws courage from. “I’m
sorry,” he repeats, filling his voice with as much meaning as he can because—
He /is/ sorry.
“I shouldn’t have gone behind your back to get information on you. You did say you were going to tell me but you weren’t ready yet. I should’ve respected that boundary. I /also/
He /is/ sorry.
“I shouldn’t have gone behind your back to get information on you. You did say you were going to tell me but you weren’t ready yet. I should’ve respected that boundary. I /also/
shouldn’t have brought it up like that, or taken a virtual strangers word over your own. You’ve never /tried/ to hurt me, so I shouldn’t have believed Fyodor when he said you would. You deserved more respect than that.”
He makes eye contact, /showing/ how apologetic he is—
He makes eye contact, /showing/ how apologetic he is—
Only to find bottomless, unconditional /forgiveness/ already shining back at him, a sight that knocks him /breathless/.
“I forgive you,” Dazai tells him without hesitation, without having to think about it,without /contemplating/. Just pure, effortless, /easy/ forgiveness. Hands
“I forgive you,” Dazai tells him without hesitation, without having to think about it,without /contemplating/. Just pure, effortless, /easy/ forgiveness. Hands
coasting up his thighs, curving over his hips to come around to his back, hugging him close.
It feels /wrong/ that it’s this easy.
But that’s part of being in a relationship. Some things—a lot of things— are /hard/, and other things…
You just learn to /forgive/.
Dazai
It feels /wrong/ that it’s this easy.
But that’s part of being in a relationship. Some things—a lot of things— are /hard/, and other things…
You just learn to /forgive/.
Dazai
cuts in before he can say anything else. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve /told/ you about my past. It’s scary and uncomfortable to talk about it, but you /deserved/ to know who you were getting involved with. I promised myself I would always protect you, and I failed. I can never
make up for that and I can never make that go /away/-- but I would make sure that /never/ happened to you again, and I would spend my /life/ making it up to you. I would give you /everything/ of me."
That's--
That's all Chuuya /wants/. That's all he /needs/.
There's just one
That's--
That's all Chuuya /wants/. That's all he /needs/.
There's just one
thing he has left to get off his chest before he can be /happy/ again. Before he can /fully/ move past this.
"I don't want you to hunt down Nika or Fyodor for what they did to me. I want you to just leave them alone."
Dazai goes still, eyes hardening. His gaze roams over his
"I don't want you to hunt down Nika or Fyodor for what they did to me. I want you to just leave them alone."
Dazai goes still, eyes hardening. His gaze roams over his
face, evaluating his expression. Evaluating how /serious/ he is.
Chuuya isn't /stupid/. He knows how protective Dazai is, and it would be foolish to believe that he /isn't/ planning on getting revenge on him.
Kouyou's probably doing the same, but he can handle her.
Dazai is a
Chuuya isn't /stupid/. He knows how protective Dazai is, and it would be foolish to believe that he /isn't/ planning on getting revenge on him.
Kouyou's probably doing the same, but he can handle her.
Dazai is a
whole different beast.
"I want you to /promise/ me to leave them alone about this."
A big part of Chuuya does want revenge. If that were an /option/, if it came without consequences, he would absolutely indulge that sick part of himself.
But it does have consequences. Nika
"I want you to /promise/ me to leave them alone about this."
A big part of Chuuya does want revenge. If that were an /option/, if it came without consequences, he would absolutely indulge that sick part of himself.
But it does have consequences. Nika
/showed/ him there would be consequences.
A war would break out. People would get hurt-- innocent people, but also /his/ people. He would be a /target/ again. It would be bloody and horrible, and maybe--
Maybe this time /he/ wouldn't be physically hurt. Maybe this time he
A war would break out. People would get hurt-- innocent people, but also /his/ people. He would be a /target/ again. It would be bloody and horrible, and maybe--
Maybe this time /he/ wouldn't be physically hurt. Maybe this time he
would lose his /sister/ or his father, or /Dazai/.
He's okay with the only victim being himself. He can make /peace/ with that, he can pull the blanket over his own nightmares and skeletons, he can /stare/ in the face of his fear and learn to /cope/.
But he can't lose Dazai. He
He's okay with the only victim being himself. He can make /peace/ with that, he can pull the blanket over his own nightmares and skeletons, he can /stare/ in the face of his fear and learn to /cope/.
But he can't lose Dazai. He
can't be a /widower/ or a single child.
He can be a victim. That's /fine/, as long as he's the only one.
"Chuuya..." Dazai says, low, like he's fighting the urge to /argue/ with him. His expression is /clearly/ disapproving, every line of his body slowly gathering tension.
He can be a victim. That's /fine/, as long as he's the only one.
"Chuuya..." Dazai says, low, like he's fighting the urge to /argue/ with him. His expression is /clearly/ disapproving, every line of his body slowly gathering tension.
Chuuya shakes his head, tightening his fingers in his hair. “No. You aren’t taking /my/ trauma and acting out a revenge plan. I don’t want you to do it.”
“She /deserves/ it,” he insists, staring up at him imploringly. His eyes are hard, even if the hands on his hips are
“She /deserves/ it,” he insists, staring up at him imploringly. His eyes are hard, even if the hands on his hips are
exceedingly gentle.
Chuuya would /agree/ with that statement. She probably /does/ deserve it, but—
“It’s not about what she deserves. It’s about what I’m not willing to lose. It’s about what /i’m/ not willing to risk. It’s about what I want.”
That seems to be something that
Chuuya would /agree/ with that statement. She probably /does/ deserve it, but—
“It’s not about what she deserves. It’s about what I’m not willing to lose. It’s about what /i’m/ not willing to risk. It’s about what I want.”
That seems to be something that
he can’t argue with. After a moment, Dazai deflates visibly.
“Okay,” he agrees quietly, pressing his fingers into the small of his back like he’s savoring the shape of him. “I won’t.”
Chuuya gives him a grateful smile, hands climbing higher into his hair. The undercut has
“Okay,” he agrees quietly, pressing his fingers into the small of his back like he’s savoring the shape of him. “I won’t.”
Chuuya gives him a grateful smile, hands climbing higher into his hair. The undercut has
fully grown out by now, soft and fuzzy. He shivers when Chuuya runs his nails through it, lips parting on a breath.
Now that they’ve /talked/—at least a little bit—it’s time to give into the swell of emotions in his chest.
Smiling lopsidedly, Chuuya asks, “Can I kiss you?”
Now that they’ve /talked/—at least a little bit—it’s time to give into the swell of emotions in his chest.
Smiling lopsidedly, Chuuya asks, “Can I kiss you?”
The spark in Dazai’s eyes lights into a /flame/, even as heartwarmingly gentle as it is. Like fire that doesn’t /burn/, but warms you to the core.
“You don’t have to ask,” he says, the beloved single dimple making a reappearance. One of his hands is moving, coasting up along his
“You don’t have to ask,” he says, the beloved single dimple making a reappearance. One of his hands is moving, coasting up along his
side. Around to his front, sliding over his chest and up his shoulder.
Long fingers curve around the back of his neck, strong and capable. The feeling of /safety/ and security in the press of the metal charm of the collar still wrapped around Dazai’s wrist.
Chuuya leans in,
Long fingers curve around the back of his neck, strong and capable. The feeling of /safety/ and security in the press of the metal charm of the collar still wrapped around Dazai’s wrist.
Chuuya leans in,
his entire being focused on his /eyes/ and how they seem to /glow/ for him. “Someone very important to me once said that you should /always/ ask to kiss someone.”
The reminder is like the final piece settling into place.
Dazai’s hand firms around his neck, pulling him in at
The reminder is like the final piece settling into place.
Dazai’s hand firms around his neck, pulling him in at
the same time he’s /leaning/, closer, closer, closer—
His breath washes over him first, warm and familiar.
And when the space between them is so minuscule nothing could ever come between them—
“Yes,” Dazai breathes.
Their mouths meet, and it’s like two halves coming home.
His breath washes over him first, warm and familiar.
And when the space between them is so minuscule nothing could ever come between them—
“Yes,” Dazai breathes.
Their mouths meet, and it’s like two halves coming home.
It's like being caught, it's like being /held/. The entire world fading into the background to give way to the opening strains of the symphony arching between them.
Dazai's lips are soft, achingly familiar. Something he's been able to memorize over the last few months and yet he
Dazai's lips are soft, achingly familiar. Something he's been able to memorize over the last few months and yet he
will /never/ get tired of it. He will never get /enough/, will spend the rest of his /life/ needing to touch Dazai like this.
Needing to kiss him, needing to hug him and touch him. Needing to /love/ him, because it's only /here/-- wrapped up in long, strong arms, fingers buried
Needing to kiss him, needing to hug him and touch him. Needing to /love/ him, because it's only /here/-- wrapped up in long, strong arms, fingers buried
in dark, unruly hair, breathing the same air, a warm, sturdy body underneath him, a body that he knows and /adores/-- that he feels /complete/. That he feels /whole/ beyond his own self, a content fulfillment that he can't /describe/.
He can only /revel/ in it, sliding closer
He can only /revel/ in it, sliding closer
until their bodies are pressed together tightly.
Dazai's first exhale against his cheek is /shaky/, and his lips tremble under his own. He's not /moving/, all of that effortless talent and finesse seemingly gone now that Chuuya is kissing him again.
It goes on long enough that
Dazai's first exhale against his cheek is /shaky/, and his lips tremble under his own. He's not /moving/, all of that effortless talent and finesse seemingly gone now that Chuuya is kissing him again.
It goes on long enough that
he tries to pull back, wondering if there's something /wrong/--
Then Dazai is pressing upward, the hand on his thigh sliding upwards to wrap around his back. Fingers press into the back of his neck, thumb pressing against his thrumming pulse, and he /kisses/ him.
Deeply,
Then Dazai is pressing upward, the hand on his thigh sliding upwards to wrap around his back. Fingers press into the back of his neck, thumb pressing against his thrumming pulse, and he /kisses/ him.
Deeply,
/meaningfully/, lips moving against his own.
It’s deeper than any kiss they’ve had before. Not physically but /emotionally/. It’s not a kiss that’s a prelude to other things or a casual show of affection. It’s not like anything they’ve had before.
It’s a confession. It’s
It’s deeper than any kiss they’ve had before. Not physically but /emotionally/. It’s not a kiss that’s a prelude to other things or a casual show of affection. It’s not like anything they’ve had before.
It’s a confession. It’s
revelation, it’s /reassurance/, it’s /everything/.
It doesn’t /cure/ the pain they’ve been through in the last weeks, but with each slide of their lips together, the cutting edge of bad memories is soothed a little more.
Chuuya slides his hands back, cradling Dazai’s jaw in
It doesn’t /cure/ the pain they’ve been through in the last weeks, but with each slide of their lips together, the cutting edge of bad memories is soothed a little more.
Chuuya slides his hands back, cradling Dazai’s jaw in
his palms. The feeling of his jaw moving in his hands, muscles bunching in rhythmic waves, so full of /life/, makes an unnamed emotion swell in his chest that feels almost too big to even breathe around.
This is /his/. He gets to have this, he gets to /keep/ this. He never has
This is /his/. He gets to have this, he gets to /keep/ this. He never has
to let this /go/.
It's common for young people to be unsure of where they'll end up in life. For a long time, Chuuya was like that /too/, his future uncertain and scary. He had an idea of what he wanted to do, where he wanted to end up, but it's still so /unknown/ to him. The
It's common for young people to be unsure of where they'll end up in life. For a long time, Chuuya was like that /too/, his future uncertain and scary. He had an idea of what he wanted to do, where he wanted to end up, but it's still so /unknown/ to him. The
future is /frightening/ when you're still so young.
But not anymore, because he knows he /always/ has a home to come back to. This might not be where he thought he would end up, but this is where he was /meant/ to be. This is his /future/, right here holding him.
He never has
But not anymore, because he knows he /always/ has a home to come back to. This might not be where he thought he would end up, but this is where he was /meant/ to be. This is his /future/, right here holding him.
He never has
to be afraid because this is /home/ now. /His/ home, his meant-to-be home, the home he made and built with someone else.
Neither of them push to deepen the kiss so it sparks into fire-heat lust. They're content to indulge in the /emotional/ high rather than the physical, soaring
Neither of them push to deepen the kiss so it sparks into fire-heat lust. They're content to indulge in the /emotional/ high rather than the physical, soaring
into a warm bubble of /happiness/. It's not about finding satisfaction in eachother's bodies, it's about proving to each other just how /much/ they mean to each other and just how much they missed each other.
And just when Chuuya swears it can't get better, feeling like his very
And just when Chuuya swears it can't get better, feeling like his very
heartbeat is being driven by the rhythm of their kiss, his breath tasting and smelling like Dazai, the rest of the world miniscule and unimportant compared to them--
Dazai pulls away, just slightly, thumb pressing into his neck with just enough force to make him pause in his
Dazai pulls away, just slightly, thumb pressing into his neck with just enough force to make him pause in his
instinctive bid to chase after him because he's not ready to stop yet--
His lips catch against his as Dazai speaks, his voice a reverential murmur, an offering to the only god he would give worship to:
"I love you."
Chuuya's breath catches in his throat, caught behind a lump
His lips catch against his as Dazai speaks, his voice a reverential murmur, an offering to the only god he would give worship to:
"I love you."
Chuuya's breath catches in his throat, caught behind a lump
of emotion.
If their first confessions hurt because of bad timing and bad circumstances--
This one feels like it wipes it /all/ away. Makes it /all/ better again, replaces something that /did/ hurt with something that feels so inexplicably /right/.
His first response is to
If their first confessions hurt because of bad timing and bad circumstances--
This one feels like it wipes it /all/ away. Makes it /all/ better again, replaces something that /did/ hurt with something that feels so inexplicably /right/.
His first response is to
lurch forward, tightening his hands on Dazai's face to drag him into another kiss, this one more /desperate/, needier, more /emotional/, with more depth.
Dazai surges upward to meet him, nearly toppling him off balance. It's only his arm around his back that keeps him upright
Dazai surges upward to meet him, nearly toppling him off balance. It's only his arm around his back that keeps him upright
and pressed close. There's an energy in him that feels /frantic/, a tension that's displayed in how /tightly/ he's holding him and how hard he's pressing into the kiss. Like he doesn't know how to handle himself now that his confession has been /accepted/ and--
This time, it's
This time, it's
Chuuya who breaks the kiss briefly, pulling back a fraction to speak, response to call, like music:
"I love you /too/."
-- and /returned/.
Dazai shudders underneath him, his hand unwrapping from his back and reaching up instead. Both of his hands find his jaw, cradling his
"I love you /too/."
-- and /returned/.
Dazai shudders underneath him, his hand unwrapping from his back and reaching up instead. Both of his hands find his jaw, cradling his
cheeks in his palms and stroking his thumbs over his cheekbones. It's /blindly/ reverential, the next kiss, an offering and a promise all in one.
Chuuya kisses him back as best he can, overwhelmed with the sheer intensity of it all. His hands end up in Dazai's hair, fisted in
Chuuya kisses him back as best he can, overwhelmed with the sheer intensity of it all. His hands end up in Dazai's hair, fisted in
the soft dark strands. It's not so much about holding him in /place/ as much as it is about holding onto him in /every/ way possible.
Their breathing is harsh before the kiss starts to slow down, coming to a natural stop. They don't part, still wrapped up in each other, arms and
Their breathing is harsh before the kiss starts to slow down, coming to a natural stop. They don't part, still wrapped up in each other, arms and
hands hanging on with a desperation that speaks of never wanting to let /go/.
In fact, the only thing that forces them to separate is Baki. Meowing loudly, he pushes between them in an effort to take his /rightful/ place in Chuuya's arms.
They missed their afternoon nap/cuddle
In fact, the only thing that forces them to separate is Baki. Meowing loudly, he pushes between them in an effort to take his /rightful/ place in Chuuya's arms.
They missed their afternoon nap/cuddle
session because Chuuya had to go to his doctors appointment, and the cat is /miffed/ at having missed his daily dose of attention.
"You're a /brat/," Chuuya huffs in amusement, pulling Baki into his arms. The insult falls on deaf ears.
Dazai slumps backward against the
"You're a /brat/," Chuuya huffs in amusement, pulling Baki into his arms. The insult falls on deaf ears.
Dazai slumps backward against the
headboard again, hands falling to his thighs again. He doesn't /complain/ like he usually might, content to watch Chuuya perched in his lap and raining kisses on Baki's head.
His eyes are practically glowing with warmth, so openly affectionate that it makes Chuuya feel like he's
His eyes are practically glowing with warmth, so openly affectionate that it makes Chuuya feel like he's
about to be burned with it.
"Are you tired?" He asks gently, thumbs massaging the inside of his knees. He can't seem to stop touching him.
Chuuya nods, dropping Baki onto his side of his side of the bed so he can stretch his back out by raising his arms in the air. It's been a
"Are you tired?" He asks gently, thumbs massaging the inside of his knees. He can't seem to stop touching him.
Chuuya nods, dropping Baki onto his side of his side of the bed so he can stretch his back out by raising his arms in the air. It's been a
/long/, emotional day. Between the talk with Dazai and the appointment with Gide, he'd be wiped out even if he /had/ managed to take his usual afternoon nap.
He hadn't, because of the appointment. Something he's /proud/ of, but slightly regretting, because it's the /first/ day
He hadn't, because of the appointment. Something he's /proud/ of, but slightly regretting, because it's the /first/ day
he's managed to go the entire day without taking a nap to make it through. He /is/ more exhausted than usual as a result, and he's sure that he's going to sleep in late tomorrow, but it's /progress/.
It's still early in the evening, but it's late enough that Chuuya doesn't feel
It's still early in the evening, but it's late enough that Chuuya doesn't feel
bad about passing out. He's eaten and showered, so there's really nothing left to do besides hang out on his phone anyways.
Well, there's /one/ thing.
He reaches for Dazai's wrist, hooking the tip of his finger in the metal loop on the collar that's wrapped around his wrist.
Well, there's /one/ thing.
He reaches for Dazai's wrist, hooking the tip of his finger in the metal loop on the collar that's wrapped around his wrist.
Tugging on it lightly, he asks, "Will you put it back on me?"
He's been wearing chokers-- and later, collars-- that Dazai had given to him for months now. His neck feels almost startlingly bare without it, and now that they're /okay/ again, he wants it back. He wants to wear it
He's been wearing chokers-- and later, collars-- that Dazai had given to him for months now. His neck feels almost startlingly bare without it, and now that they're /okay/ again, he wants it back. He wants to wear it
again, wants the reassurance of warm metal pressed up against his throat and the reminder it brings him.
Dazai flips his wrist over, revealing the buckle so Chuuya can undo it. "Are you sure?" He asks, not /pressuring/, but there's a definite edge of excitement in his voice.
Dazai flips his wrist over, revealing the buckle so Chuuya can undo it. "Are you sure?" He asks, not /pressuring/, but there's a definite edge of excitement in his voice.
Chuuya smiles. Dazai's always been respectful of his boundaries, but he's been /extra/ careful ever since their argument. It's thoughtful.
"Yes," he says, unbuckling the collar and tugging it free from his wrist. Instead of putting it on himself, he just places the leather in
"Yes," he says, unbuckling the collar and tugging it free from his wrist. Instead of putting it on himself, he just places the leather in
his hand.
It’s an /offer/. Letting him know what he wants and letting him make the final move. Equality and partnership.
Without looking away, Dazai takes his hands away from him. Carefully, he takes the leather between his fingers and leans upward.
Tipping his chin up.
It’s an /offer/. Letting him know what he wants and letting him make the final move. Equality and partnership.
Without looking away, Dazai takes his hands away from him. Carefully, he takes the leather between his fingers and leans upward.
Tipping his chin up.
Chuuya offers him his throat without hesitation or fear.
The tips of Dazai’s fingers drag over the side of his neck as he wraps the collar around his neck, drawing a shiver out of him.
Without being able to look, it takes Dazai a few moments to buckle the collar, but he manages
The tips of Dazai’s fingers drag over the side of his neck as he wraps the collar around his neck, drawing a shiver out of him.
Without being able to look, it takes Dazai a few moments to buckle the collar, but he manages
it. When he does, he runs a finger between his neck and the leather, checking the fit.
The feeling of the collar against his throat makes something inside Chuuya sigh with contentment. It’s the last piece to finally fall into place, the last piece he needed to /really/ fee at
The feeling of the collar against his throat makes something inside Chuuya sigh with contentment. It’s the last piece to finally fall into place, the last piece he needed to /really/ fee at
peace. To let go of the final pieces of tension and anxiety and just /breathe/.
“Are you going to sleep with me, or are you busy?” Chuuya asks, fixing Dazai with his best puppy dog look he has. He wants to be /cuddled/, so he’s hoping he’ll say he’s ready to sleep.
Dazai
“Are you going to sleep with me, or are you busy?” Chuuya asks, fixing Dazai with his best puppy dog look he has. He wants to be /cuddled/, so he’s hoping he’ll say he’s ready to sleep.
Dazai
reaches for the book he discarded, ripping off the top corner of the page in a casual display of disrespect towards books that makes Chuuya cringe. “We can cuddle,” he offers, tossing the book onto the nightstand.
He doesn’t offer to /sleep/ but he knows Dazai well enough by
He doesn’t offer to /sleep/ but he knows Dazai well enough by
now to realize that the man has insomnia. It’s gotten /better/ over the last few weeks, now that he’s sleeping with Chuuya— who has always had a good sleeping schedule—and there’s more routine in the act of getting ready for sleep, but it’s not a cure.
Sometimes he’ll just curl
Sometimes he’ll just curl
up with Chuuya and just hold him while he waits to sleep to take him.
It used to make Chuuya feel /bad/— it feels unfair that he gets to sleep peacefully while Dazai struggles— but Dazai reassured him that it /helps/. He has a reason to stay in bed now and eventually he usually
It used to make Chuuya feel /bad/— it feels unfair that he gets to sleep peacefully while Dazai struggles— but Dazai reassured him that it /helps/. He has a reason to stay in bed now and eventually he usually
gets a few hours of sleep at least.
Chuuya crawls under the blankets, yawning.
He ends up stretched out along his back, with Dazai’s head resting on his chest and his arms around his waist. His own arms are draped over Dazai’s broad shoulders, fingers creeping under his
Chuuya crawls under the blankets, yawning.
He ends up stretched out along his back, with Dazai’s head resting on his chest and his arms around his waist. His own arms are draped over Dazai’s broad shoulders, fingers creeping under his
shirt at the nape.
Baki curls up near his head, deliberately putting his back to Chuuya. The silent cuddle treatment makes him snicker, nudging Baki with his head in response. Yoko eventually leaps up and plops down at the end of the bed. Kozo settles in the doorway with an
Baki curls up near his head, deliberately putting his back to Chuuya. The silent cuddle treatment makes him snicker, nudging Baki with his head in response. Yoko eventually leaps up and plops down at the end of the bed. Kozo settles in the doorway with an
exaggerated groan.
Like that, Chuuya falls asleep while surrounded by his family. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last—
But somehow this feels like a new beginning. The beginning of something /fantastic/.
—— +
The minute Yuan spots Chuuya among the crowd in
Like that, Chuuya falls asleep while surrounded by his family. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last—
But somehow this feels like a new beginning. The beginning of something /fantastic/.
—— +
The minute Yuan spots Chuuya among the crowd in
the shopping mall, she’s fixing him with a concerned glare over the rim of her pink Starbucks.She’s decked out in all pinks and oranges today, and there’s a new streak of sunset-orange in her pink hair that wasn’t there the last time he saw her.
“Where the hell have you /been/?”
“Where the hell have you /been/?”
She whisper-shouts at him, waving her hand like she’s going to smack him. Her nails are pink with little cherries drawn on them.
Chuuya surpresses a wince. When he dropped out, he did tell her that he was doing it for medical reasons a few days later. He never really /explained/
Chuuya surpresses a wince. When he dropped out, he did tell her that he was doing it for medical reasons a few days later. He never really /explained/
what happened to him, but he reassured her that he was recovering and okay. It hadn’t been /enough/ and she’d pestered him every day for the last few weeks, but at least she didn’t show up at Dazai’s house demanding answers.
Chuuya sips his own drink, dropping into the seat
Chuuya sips his own drink, dropping into the seat
beside her. “I went on vacation because I thought I was doing better, and turns out I wasn’t.”
That’s the story he’s going with to explain why he disappeared for the two days of his kidnapping and rescue, and for why he’s been generally quiet and refusing to hang out since then.
That’s the story he’s going with to explain why he disappeared for the two days of his kidnapping and rescue, and for why he’s been generally quiet and refusing to hang out since then.
It’s been nearly a month since his rescue, and it’s the first time he’s gone out in the city without Dazai or his sister to accompany him. It’s the first time he’s felt /up/ to being without the protection of his family.
It’s slightly anxiety-inducing. He hasn’t talked to
It’s slightly anxiety-inducing. He hasn’t talked to
Nikolai since he knocked him out and /kidnapped/ him— pretty sure he never wants to /again/, but the fact that his /own friend/ hurt him like that has him silently boiling with hurt and confusion— and he doesn’t know what happened to him. It makes him /nervous/, nervous shivers
crawling up and down his spine.
He’s way more alert than he needs to be, feeling one step away from bolting at any time, eyes catching suspiciously on every single person who has dark hair or light eyes.
But it also feels…
Good, in a painful way. Like ripping off a bandaid
He’s way more alert than he needs to be, feeling one step away from bolting at any time, eyes catching suspiciously on every single person who has dark hair or light eyes.
But it also feels…
Good, in a painful way. Like ripping off a bandaid
to reveal the painful wound beneath. Healing is almost as painful as the wound itself is, but it’s /progress/.
“Why didn’t you /tell/ me, you pint-sized jerk?” Yuan sniffs, turning her nose up at Chuuya’s offended gasp. “I was /worried/.”
Chuuya doesn’t doubt that. Yuan’s
“Why didn’t you /tell/ me, you pint-sized jerk?” Yuan sniffs, turning her nose up at Chuuya’s offended gasp. “I was /worried/.”
Chuuya doesn’t doubt that. Yuan’s
/always/ been a good friend— the best friend Chuuya has made since he left for college— and the only one that hasn’t /betrayed/ him in some way.
“I know,” he says, scooting over to lean against her comfortingly. “I didn’t mean to worry you, it just… happened like that.”
Yuan
“I know,” he says, scooting over to lean against her comfortingly. “I didn’t mean to worry you, it just… happened like that.”
Yuan
blows a raspberry at him, taking a long sip of her drink in obvious irritation. But she’s leaning against him too, her shoulder soft and warm through her light jacket.
By the time she’s done drinking, she’s apparently moved on. “/So/,” she starts with, wiggling her eyebrows,
By the time she’s done drinking, she’s apparently moved on. “/So/,” she starts with, wiggling her eyebrows,
“/Dazai/ took you on vacation?”
Honestly, he swears that a /decent/ part of the reason Yuan has been so insistent on hanging out with him is so she can get the /gossip/ on Dazai.
“Yeah,” he says, giving her a /secret/ look. “Osaka.”
The best way to keep true to a lie is
Honestly, he swears that a /decent/ part of the reason Yuan has been so insistent on hanging out with him is so she can get the /gossip/ on Dazai.
“Yeah,” he says, giving her a /secret/ look. “Osaka.”
The best way to keep true to a lie is
to embed it in /truth/, so he’s just basically using the trip to Osaka he was taken on /earlier/ to cover up his absence.
“Osaka?” She repeats, sounding oddly disappointed. “You would think he would take you somewhere more /upscale/, with all that money he has. I was expecting
“Osaka?” She repeats, sounding oddly disappointed. “You would think he would take you somewhere more /upscale/, with all that money he has. I was expecting
somewhere more /romantic/. Like...America or something."
Chuuya snorts. "You think America is /romantic/?"
"Well, not /really/ but you get what I mean!"
"Suure," he says, taking the last sip of his drink and standing up to throw it away. "Come on, I need your help buying
Chuuya snorts. "You think America is /romantic/?"
"Well, not /really/ but you get what I mean!"
"Suure," he says, taking the last sip of his drink and standing up to throw it away. "Come on, I need your help buying
something."
/That/ gets Yuan's attention, perking up and following after him eagerly. "Oh, really? What do you need my help with?"
Chuuya only hesitates a /little/ because he's gotten used to the concept of discussing sex. Dazai is very open about it, and he's learned by
/That/ gets Yuan's attention, perking up and following after him eagerly. "Oh, really? What do you need my help with?"
Chuuya only hesitates a /little/ because he's gotten used to the concept of discussing sex. Dazai is very open about it, and he's learned by
/example/ that it's really nothing to be embarrassed about. Even Yuan has discussed her hook-ups around him a few times and it wasn't /weird/.
But this is a little more /involved/, and he's not sure if it's /too much/, but he /really/ wanted a female perspective on this idea and
But this is a little more /involved/, and he's not sure if it's /too much/, but he /really/ wanted a female perspective on this idea and
he really just pounced on the idea of going shopping with Yuan.
Two birds with one stone. Reassuring her that he's /not/ dead, dismembered or kidnapped-- her words, not his-- while also getting to catch up /and/ solve his little problem.
"Well," he sighs, heading towards the
Two birds with one stone. Reassuring her that he's /not/ dead, dismembered or kidnapped-- her words, not his-- while also getting to catch up /and/ solve his little problem.
"Well," he sighs, heading towards the
opposite side of the mall. The store he wants is on that side. "Dazai and I had a...little argument."
/Understatement/, really, but he can't go into the details of their brief break up without going into the story about Dazai being ex-mafia and his kidnapping and his /sister/
/Understatement/, really, but he can't go into the details of their brief break up without going into the story about Dazai being ex-mafia and his kidnapping and his /sister/
being current mafia, and that /entire/ mess.
He's not /completely/ sure if Yuan knows about the Mafia--she's friends with Nikolai and Shuuji too, which makes him suspicious, but she's never done anything herself to make him think otherwise. If she's /not/ aware, then telling her
He's not /completely/ sure if Yuan knows about the Mafia--she's friends with Nikolai and Shuuji too, which makes him suspicious, but she's never done anything herself to make him think otherwise. If she's /not/ aware, then telling her
would put her in danger.
If she is aware, then it means she /knew/ about Nikolai, and he can't be friends with her.
Dazai himself said she probably didn't know, and Kouyou backed him up,so he's going on the /assumption/ that she doesn't know.
Which is good, because he /wants/
If she is aware, then it means she /knew/ about Nikolai, and he can't be friends with her.
Dazai himself said she probably didn't know, and Kouyou backed him up,so he's going on the /assumption/ that she doesn't know.
Which is good, because he /wants/
a normal friend. A friend he can call up and go to lunch with without the politics of the Yakuza hanging over their heads. A friend he can just be /normal/ with.
"Oh, we're fine," he continues when Yuan shoots him a concerned look. "We're over it and we both apologized, but now
"Oh, we're fine," he continues when Yuan shoots him a concerned look. "We're over it and we both apologized, but now
he's...hesitant with me."
Which is /true/, unfortunately. Dazai's been /affectionate/ with him, but there's an undercurrent of /insecurity/ that wasn't there before. Like he's not sure if they're /actually/ okay, and he needs to keep himself behaved to keep from scaring Chuuya
Which is /true/, unfortunately. Dazai's been /affectionate/ with him, but there's an undercurrent of /insecurity/ that wasn't there before. Like he's not sure if they're /actually/ okay, and he needs to keep himself behaved to keep from scaring Chuuya
away. He's affectionate and /responsive/ with Chuuya, but he's never pushed for something more.
Which is fine, and Chuuya appreciated that while he was still recovering and confused but--
He's not, now, and he wants /attention/.
"Hesitant how?" Yuan asks.
Sighing, Chuuya just
Which is fine, and Chuuya appreciated that while he was still recovering and confused but--
He's not, now, and he wants /attention/.
"Hesitant how?" Yuan asks.
Sighing, Chuuya just
decides to /go/ for it. "We haven't had sex since."
That's an understatement-- they actually had sex since /before/ Chuuya's medical scare. It's been over a /month/ and he's just a /guy/, okay, he's starting to get /needy/.
And because Dazai isn't pushing unseen boundaries
That's an understatement-- they actually had sex since /before/ Chuuya's medical scare. It's been over a /month/ and he's just a /guy/, okay, he's starting to get /needy/.
And because Dazai isn't pushing unseen boundaries
it's put Chuuya in the position of /initiating/ himself.
Which he's never really /done/ before, not like this. He's not... /shy/ or nervous, he just hasn't /seduced/ Dazai deliberately before. He wants-- /needs/-- to do it right.
It's /slightly/ nerve-wracking because of their
Which he's never really /done/ before, not like this. He's not... /shy/ or nervous, he just hasn't /seduced/ Dazai deliberately before. He wants-- /needs/-- to do it right.
It's /slightly/ nerve-wracking because of their
difference in experience. Chuuya has no doubt that he /wants/ him, but he's /also/ sure that Dazai has had a /lot/ more partners that were more experienced and /better/ than him.
Which is why he's here. Technically he /could/ just ask Dazai to fuck him and it'd be fine but--
He
Which is why he's here. Technically he /could/ just ask Dazai to fuck him and it'd be fine but--
He
wants something with more /flair/. He wants to put /effort/ into it.
Yuan /gasps/, like she's scandalized. "No sex for like, a whole /week/?"
Chuuya shoots her a scathing look, softened by the bump of his hip against hers.
She giggles. "No, I get it. If /I/ was getting that
Yuan /gasps/, like she's scandalized. "No sex for like, a whole /week/?"
Chuuya shoots her a scathing look, softened by the bump of his hip against hers.
She giggles. "No, I get it. If /I/ was getting that
dick, I'd probably be bouncing on it /all the time/."
She sighs wistfully, her expression dreamy, and /maybe/ Chuuya should feel peeved that she's technically daydreaming about his boyfriends dick but honestly?
He gets it. Hell, /he's/ spent the last few days fantasizing about
She sighs wistfully, her expression dreamy, and /maybe/ Chuuya should feel peeved that she's technically daydreaming about his boyfriends dick but honestly?
He gets it. Hell, /he's/ spent the last few days fantasizing about
his cock and he's experienced it. Dazai is /unfairly/ attractive, and Yuan already /said/ she wanted him even before they got together so.
He understands her.
They weave their way through the mall, heading toward the lingerie shop Chuuya picked out for today.
"So you need my
He understands her.
They weave their way through the mall, heading toward the lingerie shop Chuuya picked out for today.
"So you need my
help seducing him?" She confirms, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"Yeah," Chuuya confirms. "I haven't really done it before, so I need some advice."
She gives him a /salacious/ grin, eyes twinkling. "You came to the right place. But I require payment."
Chuuya thinks about
"Yeah," Chuuya confirms. "I haven't really done it before, so I need some advice."
She gives him a /salacious/ grin, eyes twinkling. "You came to the right place. But I require payment."
Chuuya thinks about
it. "I can buy you whatever you want at the store? Dazai gave me his black card and basically told me to go wild, so I don't think it matters how much I spend."
Her jaw /drops/. "He /gave/ you his black card?"
Chuuya nods. Three months ago, the idea of that would make him feel
Her jaw /drops/. "He /gave/ you his black card?"
Chuuya nods. Three months ago, the idea of that would make him feel
guilty and uncomfortable, but with how much money Dazai spends on him anyways, he's gotten used to it.
Besides, they're /committed/ now. It's not a /fling/, it's not something /temporary/. He should get used to the idea of spending Dazai's money.
Yuan sighs again. "I wish I had
Besides, they're /committed/ now. It's not a /fling/, it's not something /temporary/. He should get used to the idea of spending Dazai's money.
Yuan sighs again. "I wish I had
someone to give me their black card to go crazy with. Especially someone as hot as Dazai, because all the sugar daddies are mostly..." she makes a face, "eh."
'Eh' sounds like the correct description for that, but Chuuya doesn't know enough to agree wholeheartedly.
As they step
'Eh' sounds like the correct description for that, but Chuuya doesn't know enough to agree wholeheartedly.
As they step
into the shop, Yuan shakes herself out of it. "But no, that's not what I want. I want /details/. I'm living vicariously through you so you gotta tell me /everything/."
Chuuya frowns at that, looking over the display mannequins dressed in various outfits of lingerie and cute
Chuuya frowns at that, looking over the display mannequins dressed in various outfits of lingerie and cute
feminine underwear. He's gained a lot of confidence since he started dating Dazai, and now the idea of buying lingerie doesn't make him uncomfortable anymore.
That doesn't mean he knows what looks /good/ on him though, because the only set he has-- which is now ruined, by the
That doesn't mean he knows what looks /good/ on him though, because the only set he has-- which is now ruined, by the
way, permanently stained because Dazai made him cum in them-- was picked out by Dazai. He's not sure what style looks good on him, or things he should avoid, or anything, really.
Which is why he brought Yuan.
"Details?" He asks, heading towards the side of the shop dedicated to
Which is why he brought Yuan.
"Details?" He asks, heading towards the side of the shop dedicated to
lingerie with Yuan following behind.
"Yeah!" She says, much too loudly and shamelessly for what she's about to say next. "Like, how /is/ the sex? Is he /kinky/? How big is it? Please tell me it's big."
He can't help the snort of amusement. Typical of Yuan to focus on things
"Yeah!" She says, much too loudly and shamelessly for what she's about to say next. "Like, how /is/ the sex? Is he /kinky/? How big is it? Please tell me it's big."
He can't help the snort of amusement. Typical of Yuan to focus on things
like /that/. "The sex is /good/. Can't really compare it to anything but it's /really/ good. He /is/ kinky, at least in my eyes. I don't know if you'd think he was kinky though. As for..."
He hums, measuring out a length /approximating/ Dazai's cock-- he is not ashamed to admit
He hums, measuring out a length /approximating/ Dazai's cock-- he is not ashamed to admit
to himself that he's /fantasized/ a lot about it lately and probably has the size of it memorized-- and watches with satisfaction as Yuan's eyes bulge.
"You're /lying/."
Chuuya denies that by shaking his head, picking up a sheer lingerie piece that looks almost like a dress. He
"You're /lying/."
Chuuya denies that by shaking his head, picking up a sheer lingerie piece that looks almost like a dress. He
likes the color and cut of it, but he's not sure if it /fits/ for his plans.
"Oh my god, I /knew/ it was big," Yuan mutters to herself, sounding way too pleased with herself. "You lucky bastard. And he likes to see you all dressed up? Or do /you/ like it?"
That seems like a
"Oh my god, I /knew/ it was big," Yuan mutters to herself, sounding way too pleased with herself. "You lucky bastard. And he likes to see you all dressed up? Or do /you/ like it?"
That seems like a
/probing/ question.
"Both, I guess," he says, shrugging. He doesn't think she'll make a big deal about it, but it's /nerve-wracking/ to tell someone else that he...
Kind of likes dressing in feminine clothing? Girl clothes are /prettier/ and there's much more style options, and
"Both, I guess," he says, shrugging. He doesn't think she'll make a big deal about it, but it's /nerve-wracking/ to tell someone else that he...
Kind of likes dressing in feminine clothing? Girl clothes are /prettier/ and there's much more style options, and
there's something very /freeing/ and /sexy/ about wearing a skirt.
Part of him wonders if that means /something/ about his gender, but honestly? He doesn't want to think about it. Doesn't want to stress himself out by wondering if he's /really/ a man or if he just likes girls
Part of him wonders if that means /something/ about his gender, but honestly? He doesn't want to think about it. Doesn't want to stress himself out by wondering if he's /really/ a man or if he just likes girls
clothes.
That’s part of the reason that he loves Dazai so much. He doesn’t /pressure/ him. He doesn’t point out all the things that Chuuya likes that aren’t /exactly/ masculine, and ask him why he likes it or what it all means.
He just lets him enjoy what he enjoys, and helps
That’s part of the reason that he loves Dazai so much. He doesn’t /pressure/ him. He doesn’t point out all the things that Chuuya likes that aren’t /exactly/ masculine, and ask him why he likes it or what it all means.
He just lets him enjoy what he enjoys, and helps
him explore other things he /might/ like, and he doesn’t make any assumptions about it.
Or maybe he does, and he just never says anything. It doesn’t matter to him.
Chuuya’s just /Chuuya/. He respects that gender is really important to some people, but he doesn’t think he’s
Or maybe he does, and he just never says anything. It doesn’t matter to him.
Chuuya’s just /Chuuya/. He respects that gender is really important to some people, but he doesn’t think he’s
one of them. He just wants to enjoy himself.
“Oh,” Yuan says, blinking at him and there’s a /moment/ where he thinks she’s going to call him weird—
“Did you have anything planned?”
But she doesn’t.
“Not really,” he mutters, moving over the racks. There’s a pretty, strappy
“Oh,” Yuan says, blinking at him and there’s a /moment/ where he thinks she’s going to call him weird—
“Did you have anything planned?”
But she doesn’t.
“Not really,” he mutters, moving over the racks. There’s a pretty, strappy
piece on the mannequin, but he can’t seem to find it on the rack. “But we’re both going to be home, so I was thinking about doing dinner?”
Maybe his seduction plan would be better acted out at a fancy restaurant but—
He remembers how /long/ Dazai teased him for whenever they
Maybe his seduction plan would be better acted out at a fancy restaurant but—
He remembers how /long/ Dazai teased him for whenever they
went out in public, and with how pent up he’s been lately, he’s not /chancing/ that. Plus, he’s still kind of /iffy/ about being in public for long periods of time, and he doesn’t think he’s ready for that.
He’d much prefer an easy, cozy dinner at home before being carried up to
He’d much prefer an easy, cozy dinner at home before being carried up to
their bedroom. Less /mess/, less anxiety, less tension. More of just focusing on /them/ without any distractions.
“Oooh,” Yuan says, beginning to flip through the rack closest to her. “Candlelit dinner. Very /romantic/.”
Chuuya makes a mental note to buy candles on the way
“Oooh,” Yuan says, beginning to flip through the rack closest to her. “Candlelit dinner. Very /romantic/.”
Chuuya makes a mental note to buy candles on the way
home, because he didn’t think of that.
“So what I was /planning/ is that I get home, I cook dinner. We eat, and then I go up and shower where I change into something…” Chuuya holds up the baby doll to his frame, making a ‘you know’ face.
Yuan makes a sound of victory,
“So what I was /planning/ is that I get home, I cook dinner. We eat, and then I go up and shower where I change into something…” Chuuya holds up the baby doll to his frame, making a ‘you know’ face.
Yuan makes a sound of victory,
pulling out a hanger that has something with a lot of straps and buckles on it. “No, no,” she says, coming over. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home, do all your shower stuff and then change into this—.”
She holds the piece up to his torso, and he can see
She holds the piece up to his torso, and he can see
that it’s a thigh-heavy piece. Lots of straps and buckles that would go over his hips and thighs and waist, with not much that goes on his chest.
Dazai’s /always/ liked his thighs, so that’s a plus. And it’s /black/, which is a pretty classic color, but obviously one of Dazai’s
Dazai’s /always/ liked his thighs, so that’s a plus. And it’s /black/, which is a pretty classic color, but obviously one of Dazai’s
favorites.
“— and then put your regular clothes on top. Make /sure/ he sees it. I don’t care if you have to cook bacon shirtless, you make sure this man /knows/ you’re dressed up underneath your clothes. You’re gonna torture him. Make him /wait/, make him /simmer/. You want him
“— and then put your regular clothes on top. Make /sure/ he sees it. I don’t care if you have to cook bacon shirtless, you make sure this man /knows/ you’re dressed up underneath your clothes. You’re gonna torture him. Make him /wait/, make him /simmer/. You want him
/desperate/ to touch you."
Turns out, seduction is not just a science-- it's an /artform/. Chuuya sort of expected as much, based on the times Dazai seduced him, but it still feels like he's being dropped onto a theater stage with only a crash course on his lines.
Yuan gives
Turns out, seduction is not just a science-- it's an /artform/. Chuuya sort of expected as much, based on the times Dazai seduced him, but it still feels like he's being dropped onto a theater stage with only a crash course on his lines.
Yuan gives
him /so/ much advice while helping him pick out a few-- half a /dozen/-- sets of lingerie. Ways to touch Dazai to 'build him up'-- his knee, his /forearms/--, teasing him by not giving him /too/ much but just enough to make him /interested/, subtle ways to flash the lingerie he's
wearing underneath, ways to eat his food /seductively/, food that can be eaten seductively, how to /sit/, eye contact, things to /say/.
"You sure know a lot about this," Chuuya mutters after he comes out of the changing room for the /fifth/ time. Yuan offered to go in with him
"You sure know a lot about this," Chuuya mutters after he comes out of the changing room for the /fifth/ time. Yuan offered to go in with him
to give her seal of approval, but he denied because he isn't /quite/ comfortable showing her all his bits.
Besides, he needs some time to /process/ and take notes on his phone,because there's a /lot/.
When he decided to /seduce/ Dazai, he knew there was going to be /legwork/.
Besides, he needs some time to /process/ and take notes on his phone,because there's a /lot/.
When he decided to /seduce/ Dazai, he knew there was going to be /legwork/.
He could've gone the easy route and just straight up asked Dazai to fuck him-- he's /positive/ the man would never say no to him--but he thought about it and consciously decided to make an /effort/.
So far, Dazai's usually been the one initiating and leading their sexual lives.
So far, Dazai's usually been the one initiating and leading their sexual lives.
He doesn’t /mind/ that—in fact, he actually really likes it—and he’s not trying to change that—even though he has been playing with the idea of fucking /Dazai/ some day and pondering when he should bring it up—but ever since they restarted their relationship, he’s been determined
to take an /equal/ part in their relationship.
Which means he /can’t/ just sit around and wait for Dazai to initiate. If he wants something, he needs to /work/ for it.
“Oh sweetheart,” Yuan sighs at him, pushing him towards the cashiers register. “Being a girl is /all/ about
Which means he /can’t/ just sit around and wait for Dazai to initiate. If he wants something, he needs to /work/ for it.
“Oh sweetheart,” Yuan sighs at him, pushing him towards the cashiers register. “Being a girl is /all/ about
learning how to seduce your way into getting whatever you want. How do you think I got all this stuff? /Work/?”
Well, he never really put a lot of /thought/ into it. He just assumed Yuan was rich like everyone else was, even though she never mentioned her family.
“I’ve been
Well, he never really put a lot of /thought/ into it. He just assumed Yuan was rich like everyone else was, even though she never mentioned her family.
“I’ve been
conning men out of their wallets for /years/,” she brags, “I’ve learned a few tricks.”
Oh. Well alright then. Good for her.
He pays for the lingerie, staring hard at the cashier and almost /daring/ him to say something.
The young man at the register doesn’t say a word. Maybe
Oh. Well alright then. Good for her.
He pays for the lingerie, staring hard at the cashier and almost /daring/ him to say something.
The young man at the register doesn’t say a word. Maybe
it’s because he came in with a girl, or maybe it’s the dead-inside look in his eyes, but he just calmly rings it all up and gives him his total in a monotone voice.
Chuuya hands him the card, feeling like he’s /bragging/ by flashing a black card in the middle of the store.
“Do
Chuuya hands him the card, feeling like he’s /bragging/ by flashing a black card in the middle of the store.
“Do
you want regular packaging or discrete?" The cashier asks, showing him a bag with the stores logo on it and another plain paper bag.
"Discrete," Chuuya says. Dazai will be picking him up soon, and he doesn't want to ruin the /surprise/. He doesn't want him to know /too/ much
"Discrete," Chuuya says. Dazai will be picking him up soon, and he doesn't want to ruin the /surprise/. He doesn't want him to know /too/ much
before he's ready. Yuan said the most /powerful/ moment is in the /reveal/, and he's taking that to heart.
All his purchases get folded neatly and stored into the bag without another word.
Yuan links arms with him on their way out of the store, looking self-satisfied with
All his purchases get folded neatly and stored into the bag without another word.
Yuan links arms with him on their way out of the store, looking self-satisfied with
herself. "You /have/ to tell me how it goes," she says, nudging him with her hip and giving him an obvious wink. "And you have to hang out with me soon. Don't be a stranger. I miss you."
Chuuya /does/ feel bad about that, because as soon as his relationship with Dazai started to
Chuuya /does/ feel bad about that, because as soon as his relationship with Dazai started to
get intense, he basically dropped most of his friend group. It wasn't /intentional/ and it wasn't because he didn't /want/ to hang out with her, it was just--
He was busy with Dazai, busy dealing with the fact that Shuuji /literally/ tried to run him over, then dealing with his
He was busy with Dazai, busy dealing with the fact that Shuuji /literally/ tried to run him over, then dealing with his
medical scare, and /then/ dealing with being kidnapped, and /THEN/ dealing with the mafia revelation.
He was busy.
And he misses her too, because she's a /really/ good friend.
"I will," he promises, squeezing her arm. "We can hang out soon, I promise. Maybe next week?"
It's
He was busy.
And he misses her too, because she's a /really/ good friend.
"I will," he promises, squeezing her arm. "We can hang out soon, I promise. Maybe next week?"
It's
around the time for finals week-- a thought that makes him /sad/, because he /should/ be drowning in studying and homework right now, and he /misses/ that frantic schedule-- so it's probably one of the few times she can hang out before finals start.
Yuan brightens. "Yeah! Isn't
Yuan brightens. "Yeah! Isn't
your birthday soon?"
Chuuya thinks about it, doing the math in his head. "In about six weeks."
He didn't really notice it before, but he was only eighteen and a half when he met Dazai. Then so much has happened, and now he's about to be nineteen.
Time really does fly. Gone
Chuuya thinks about it, doing the math in his head. "In about six weeks."
He didn't really notice it before, but he was only eighteen and a half when he met Dazai. Then so much has happened, and now he's about to be nineteen.
Time really does fly. Gone
almost before he can notice it.
Yuan nudges him with her elbow. "Make sure Dazai does something /nice/ for you for your birthday."
Oh, he has no doubt in the world that Dazai will go /all out/ for his birthday. He hasn't found anything /yet/, but he's caught Dazai on his phone
Yuan nudges him with her elbow. "Make sure Dazai does something /nice/ for you for your birthday."
Oh, he has no doubt in the world that Dazai will go /all out/ for his birthday. He hasn't found anything /yet/, but he's caught Dazai on his phone
in the middle of the night a /few/ times, and each time Dazai noticed he woke up, he /quickly/ put it away.
He's planning /something/, and Chuuya is already starting to feel excitement at the thought of what might happen.
"I will," he snickers, giving her a wink. "But we'll do
He's planning /something/, and Chuuya is already starting to feel excitement at the thought of what might happen.
"I will," he snickers, giving her a wink. "But we'll do
something too, don't worry."
Yuan gives him a big grin before waving goodbye, promising to text him and reminding him to text her all the details.
Part of Chuuya is /nervous/ watching her walk away because she's taking the train alone, but he just has to get used to it. Life
Yuan gives him a big grin before waving goodbye, promising to text him and reminding him to text her all the details.
Part of Chuuya is /nervous/ watching her walk away because she's taking the train alone, but he just has to get used to it. Life
doesn’t /change/ just because he’s now aware of all the dangers that come with it. He can’t stop living his life, his friends can’t stop living theirs, and he /can’t/ hover over them in paranoia.
It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.
Dazai is waiting outside in the
It’s fine. Everything is going to be fine.
Dazai is waiting outside in the
parking lot, leaning against his car. He looks /exquisitely/ good in a pair of normal jeans and a shirt, it’s actually /unfair/.
And he brought Chuuya a /surprise/.
As soon as he gets in sight, there’s excited barking coming from the car. Dazai looks torn between /fondness/
And he brought Chuuya a /surprise/.
As soon as he gets in sight, there’s excited barking coming from the car. Dazai looks torn between /fondness/
and exasperation.
“Yoko wouldn’t let me leave without bringing her with,” he greets, “She was /upset/ that you weren’t there to play with her.”
Honestly, she’s gotten a little /spoiled/, not that Chuuya is upset by that. Since he’s been home pretty much all day every day,
“Yoko wouldn’t let me leave without bringing her with,” he greets, “She was /upset/ that you weren’t there to play with her.”
Honestly, she’s gotten a little /spoiled/, not that Chuuya is upset by that. Since he’s been home pretty much all day every day,
she’s gotten used to him being around for playing and cuddling all the time. She’s been /particularly/ clingy since he got kidnapped, and he can barely go to the bathroom without her scratching at the door to be let in.
“She’s /spoiled/,” Dazai sighs, shaking his head in
“She’s /spoiled/,” Dazai sighs, shaking his head in
mock disappointment.
Chuuya smiles at him, stepping up to him and wrapping his fingers in his shirt to tug him down into a kiss. “She /loves/ me,” he corrects, chasing the words with a greeting kiss.
Dazai smiles against his lips. “She has to get in line,” he murmurs back,
Chuuya smiles at him, stepping up to him and wrapping his fingers in his shirt to tug him down into a kiss. “She /loves/ me,” he corrects, chasing the words with a greeting kiss.
Dazai smiles against his lips. “She has to get in line,” he murmurs back,
one hand finding the small of Chuuya’s back to pull him closer. “You’re teaching her bad habits. I was here /first/.”
Grinning fondly, Chuuya loops his arms around his neck, leaning back against his hand without a shred of hesitation. He knows Dazai would never drop him.
Grinning fondly, Chuuya loops his arms around his neck, leaning back against his hand without a shred of hesitation. He knows Dazai would never drop him.
“What am I? A toy for you to fight over?” He teases, leaning back to look at his boyfriend more fully.
Dazai doesn’t /exactly/ deny that, changing the subject with a cheeky grin. “Did you have fun today?”
With one final squeeze around his neck, Chuuya let’s him go. Yoko sounds
Dazai doesn’t /exactly/ deny that, changing the subject with a cheeky grin. “Did you have fun today?”
With one final squeeze around his neck, Chuuya let’s him go. Yoko sounds
like she’s getting /impatient/ in the car. “I did. Nothing too interesting happened, and I got some stuff.”
Dazai watches him cross to the other side of the car. It had taken work to convince him to let Chuuya out of his sight, because he was still /nervous/ about him being
Dazai watches him cross to the other side of the car. It had taken work to convince him to let Chuuya out of his sight, because he was still /nervous/ about him being
unprotected. Almost as nervous as Chuuya himself was.
He’d only agreed under the condition that Chuuya would turn his phone GPS on and text him regularly, as well as being the person to drop him off and pick him up.
Some would think that would be /creepy/ and far too possessive
He’d only agreed under the condition that Chuuya would turn his phone GPS on and text him regularly, as well as being the person to drop him off and pick him up.
Some would think that would be /creepy/ and far too possessive
to the point of crossing a boundary, but Chuuya found it /comforting/ at this stage.
It made him feel /secure/ and protected.
He slides into the car and is immediately greeted with a soft muzzle in his face,frantically sniffing and licking his face in greeting. Laughing softly,
It made him feel /secure/ and protected.
He slides into the car and is immediately greeted with a soft muzzle in his face,frantically sniffing and licking his face in greeting. Laughing softly,
he leans away—because he doesn’t /actually/ like the feel of dog slobber on his face— and gives Yoko some pets instead.
“What /kind/ of stuff?” Dazai asks once they start driving, not-so-subtly eyeing the discrete bag stored at Chuuya’s feet.
Chuuya gives him a sweet,
“What /kind/ of stuff?” Dazai asks once they start driving, not-so-subtly eyeing the discrete bag stored at Chuuya’s feet.
Chuuya gives him a sweet,
secretive smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?”
Eyebrows shooting you, Dazai gives an incredulous laugh. “What?”
“You’ll find out /later/,” Chuuya insists, pushing Yoko back into the backseat because she’s trying fruitlessly to climb into his lap.
“Oh now you
Eyebrows shooting you, Dazai gives an incredulous laugh. “What?”
“You’ll find out /later/,” Chuuya insists, pushing Yoko back into the backseat because she’s trying fruitlessly to climb into his lap.
“Oh now you
/have/ to tell me!”
“I do /not/.”
“Okay, but what if I /guess/? Will you tell me if I’m right?”
Chuuya pretends to think about it. “Sure.”
He’s lying. He’s not going to tell Dazai if he’s right.
Dazai spends the rest of the drive flinging out increasingly ridiculous
“I do /not/.”
“Okay, but what if I /guess/? Will you tell me if I’m right?”
Chuuya pretends to think about it. “Sure.”
He’s lying. He’s not going to tell Dazai if he’s right.
Dazai spends the rest of the drive flinging out increasingly ridiculous
guesses, and at some he seems to be doing it just to make Chuuya /laugh/, eyes crinkling at the corners and his own smile growing wider every time he manages to make him burst into laughter.
When they get home, Chuuya heads straight up into the upstairs bathroom to go shower.
When they get home, Chuuya heads straight up into the upstairs bathroom to go shower.
Dazai offers to come with him, voice carefully neutral, but he declines.
He’s /slowly/ getting used to showering by himself again. It’s a /process/, and it takes longer than ever before, and sometimes he overdoes it—
But he’s working through it and there’s progress. Slow but
He’s /slowly/ getting used to showering by himself again. It’s a /process/, and it takes longer than ever before, and sometimes he overdoes it—
But he’s working through it and there’s progress. Slow but
steady progress.
Admittedly, it’s something he had to get /used/ to, because he’s not used to /physical/ things holding him back anymore but—
Progress.
He told Dazai he was making dinner tonight—which the man honestly seemed /excited/ for, perking up like a puppy with his
Admittedly, it’s something he had to get /used/ to, because he’s not used to /physical/ things holding him back anymore but—
Progress.
He told Dazai he was making dinner tonight—which the man honestly seemed /excited/ for, perking up like a puppy with his
metaphorical tail wagging because “he’s never had someone cook for him before”, which /does/ put a certain amount of pressure on him to make it /fancy/— so he’s not worried about having to rush. He can stand under the spray and leisurely take his time soaping up every inch of
himself, breathing through the lingering anxiety that never seems to go /away/, even if it is beginning to fade.
Washing his face is a process now, because he can’t dunk his face under the water, but he manages it.
Then it’s time to get /dressed/, and that’s when the /nerves/
Washing his face is a process now, because he can’t dunk his face under the water, but he manages it.
Then it’s time to get /dressed/, and that’s when the /nerves/
begin to set in. Because he's never put /this/ much effort into 'seducing' Dazai, and he's not sure if it's /too/ much? He's doing all the things he knows Dazai likes, but is he /trying/ too hard? He doesn't want to look /desperate/, he just wants to look like he's /trying/.
It'd be too embarrassing to /back out/ though, because he already put the thing on-- which took almost /ten/ minutes, to make sure all the straps were correct and laying nicely-- and he already told Yuan he was going to do it, so he's just going to /do it/. Fake it 'til he makes
it or whatever.
Taking a deep breath, he goes downstairs. It's hotter now, spring in /full/ swing, all the flowers returning and the summer sun beginning to make it's reappearance. The days are hotter now, even with the AC on inside, which means he's taken to wearing shorts
Taking a deep breath, he goes downstairs. It's hotter now, spring in /full/ swing, all the flowers returning and the summer sun beginning to make it's reappearance. The days are hotter now, even with the AC on inside, which means he's taken to wearing shorts
and loose shirts inside.
Which means he gets a /fantastic/ view of Dazai looking up from the dining table, a soft welcoming smile on his face, only for his eyes to catch on the straps peeking out of his shorts and encircling his upper thighs and go /wide/.
Chuuya has to fight
Which means he gets a /fantastic/ view of Dazai looking up from the dining table, a soft welcoming smile on his face, only for his eyes to catch on the straps peeking out of his shorts and encircling his upper thighs and go /wide/.
Chuuya has to fight
off a smug smile, all his nerves disappeared again under the wave of self-satisfaction. Prey /caught/.
"Did you have a nice shower?" Dazai says, and his voice might be a /little/ breathier than it should be. His eyes still haven't moved any farther up than his /hips/, watching
"Did you have a nice shower?" Dazai says, and his voice might be a /little/ breathier than it should be. His eyes still haven't moved any farther up than his /hips/, watching
the sway of them as Chuuya moves into the kitchen.
On the way there, he decides on a /detour/. Light on his feet, he comes over to stand in front of Dazai. He's still sitting, knees spread wide in unintentional invitation. Wide enough for Chuuya to stand between, one of Dazai's
On the way there, he decides on a /detour/. Light on his feet, he comes over to stand in front of Dazai. He's still sitting, knees spread wide in unintentional invitation. Wide enough for Chuuya to stand between, one of Dazai's
knees slipping between his thighs as he leans forward.
With him sitting, Dazai actually has to look /up/ at him, and Chuuya will /never/ get over the feeling of /power/ that gives him. Never get over the sight of brown eyes tipped to the light, entirely focused on his face.
With him sitting, Dazai actually has to look /up/ at him, and Chuuya will /never/ get over the feeling of /power/ that gives him. Never get over the sight of brown eyes tipped to the light, entirely focused on his face.
"I did," he hums, resting his forearms on his shoulders and leaning over to give him a greeting kiss.
This one is more /charged/ than the kiss in the parking lot. Dazai pushes up eagerly into it, the slide of his lips against his a /welcome/ and familiar feeling, the hint of his
This one is more /charged/ than the kiss in the parking lot. Dazai pushes up eagerly into it, the slide of his lips against his a /welcome/ and familiar feeling, the hint of his
tongue behind a tease/.
A hand finds his thigh, palm sliding roughly over soft skin. Dazai's thumb hooks in one of the straps, tugs teasingly on it as the rest of his fingers quest /upward/--
With a final, teasing swipe of his tongue over Dazai's bottom lip, Chuuya pulls away
A hand finds his thigh, palm sliding roughly over soft skin. Dazai's thumb hooks in one of the straps, tugs teasingly on it as the rest of his fingers quest /upward/--
With a final, teasing swipe of his tongue over Dazai's bottom lip, Chuuya pulls away
before he can get carried away.
Dazai pouts at him, looking like he just got denied his /favorite/ meal. Chuuya pats his shoulder patronizingly before he slides out of his arms entirely.
The dinner he chose to cook is a relatively simple one, just his personal spin on a beef
Dazai pouts at him, looking like he just got denied his /favorite/ meal. Chuuya pats his shoulder patronizingly before he slides out of his arms entirely.
The dinner he chose to cook is a relatively simple one, just his personal spin on a beef
stirfry that he started making when he was in high school. Easy and familiar, the perfect dish to jump back into cooking with.
It also comes with a /lot/ of memories of his childhood home. Practically inhaling the dish as he frantically studied for finals, laughing with his
It also comes with a /lot/ of memories of his childhood home. Practically inhaling the dish as he frantically studied for finals, laughing with his
sisters at whatever stupid show they were watching, sitting with his father on the porch.
Adding Dazai to those memories, interweaving him in the fabric of Chuuya's life, feels /right/.
Plus, he hasn't had access to a kitchen or the drive to cook in a few months, so it's
Adding Dazai to those memories, interweaving him in the fabric of Chuuya's life, feels /right/.
Plus, he hasn't had access to a kitchen or the drive to cook in a few months, so it's
best to start with something /simple/. He doesn't want to embarrass himself by burning something or making something gross.
He's /showing off/. He /wants/ to show off.
Dazai watches him fondly as he moves around the kitchen, the heat in his gaze slow and simmering. He doesn't
He's /showing off/. He /wants/ to show off.
Dazai watches him fondly as he moves around the kitchen, the heat in his gaze slow and simmering. He doesn't
move, content to just...watch him chop all the vegetables and stir up the sauce.
(What he doesn't know is that Dazai is having something of a /revelation/ at this moment.
He meant it when he said that no one's cooked for him. Sure, Oda and Yosano would occasionally shove a cup
(What he doesn't know is that Dazai is having something of a /revelation/ at this moment.
He meant it when he said that no one's cooked for him. Sure, Oda and Yosano would occasionally shove a cup
of cooked ramen in his hands, and sometimes Mori would share some of the meal he cooked for himself with him, but other than that? No one.
No one's cooked for him since his /mother/ did, so long ago, and he's just... quietly marveling at the sight.
He never realized how
No one's cooked for him since his /mother/ did, so long ago, and he's just... quietly marveling at the sight.
He never realized how
/intimate/ cooking was until he's faced with the sight of it. It's not just knowing how to cook something he likes, or doing it where he can see, it's--
It's Chuuya, knowing where every one of the utensils he needs is located. Moving around the kitchen like he /lives/ here,
It's Chuuya, knowing where every one of the utensils he needs is located. Moving around the kitchen like he /lives/ here,
effortlessly finding all the spices and ingredients, even things that /Dazai/ had half-forgotten were there. It's how /confident/ he is, like he's not a /guest/ in this kitchen.
This is his /home/, and this is /his/ kitchen, and Dazai feels like he's about to soar off a /cliff/
This is his /home/, and this is /his/ kitchen, and Dazai feels like he's about to soar off a /cliff/
when he realizes how /true/ that is.
This /is/ his home. This is /their/ home, together, and maybe some parts of it are cobbled together, maybe some parts don't always fit the way they're supposed to but--
This is /theirs/. Chuuya is here to /stay/, despite everything that
This /is/ his home. This is /their/ home, together, and maybe some parts of it are cobbled together, maybe some parts don't always fit the way they're supposed to but--
This is /theirs/. Chuuya is here to /stay/, despite everything that
tried to break them apart, despite all the mistakes they've /both/ made, despite all the obstacles and pitfalls and places where they /could/ have failed--
And still, Dazai gets to have this. He gets to /keep/ Chuuya and cherish him and /love/ him and make a home with him.
It's
And still, Dazai gets to have this. He gets to /keep/ Chuuya and cherish him and /love/ him and make a home with him.
It's
more than he ever /dreamed/ of, because in every thought Dazai ever had of the /end/ of his life, he was always /alone/.
And now, he's /not/.)
"What made you want to cook?" Dazai eventually asks, his chin propped up on the heel of his hand. He's been staring at Chuuya with
And now, he's /not/.)
"What made you want to cook?" Dazai eventually asks, his chin propped up on the heel of his hand. He's been staring at Chuuya with
huge eyes, like he's doing something /amazing/ instead of throwing together a memorized meal.
"Well," Chuuya says, portioning out two bowls of rice, "You're always doing something nice for /me/, and I wanted to do something nice for you."
He sees Dazai's eyes widen slightly,
"Well," Chuuya says, portioning out two bowls of rice, "You're always doing something nice for /me/, and I wanted to do something nice for you."
He sees Dazai's eyes widen slightly,
and he takes this chance to /strike/, lowering his voice into something he /hopes/ is seductive. "Take care of you, like you take care of /me/."
Now, that /could/ be taken as innocent, so he accents the innuendo by leaning /forward/ over the counter until his shirt is riding up
Now, that /could/ be taken as innocent, so he accents the innuendo by leaning /forward/ over the counter until his shirt is riding up
over his hips and exposing the black criss-crossing straps over his lower back, arching his spine /just/ enough to make it /tempting/--
He can practically /feel/ Dazai's sharp inhale, victory coursing through him like a drug.
When he's done adding the vegetables to the bowls,
He can practically /feel/ Dazai's sharp inhale, victory coursing through him like a drug.
When he's done adding the vegetables to the bowls,
he drops back down onto his heels, the hint of lingerie underneath once again being hidden away.
When he sneaks a look at Dazai,the man still hasn't moved--
But his /posture/ has changed. Gone is the straight-backed, alert and /adorable/ boyfriend, to be replaced by the /siren/
When he sneaks a look at Dazai,the man still hasn't moved--
But his /posture/ has changed. Gone is the straight-backed, alert and /adorable/ boyfriend, to be replaced by the /siren/
that lives in his blood. He's leaning back against the back of his chair, effortlessly and powerfully built, a lethal jungle cat lounging in it's territory.
His eyes have darkened, focused on Chuuya with predatory intensity. When he sees him looking, he licks his bottom lip in
His eyes have darkened, focused on Chuuya with predatory intensity. When he sees him looking, he licks his bottom lip in
one long, /teasing/ slide--
And then smiles, sharp and knowing. He's caught onto the plan now, probably, and now he's playing /with/ him.
The game is /on/ now. Who's going to win?
"Oh, but /sweetheart/," Dazai says, honey-sweet, "You know I like taking care of you."
Again,
And then smiles, sharp and knowing. He's caught onto the plan now, probably, and now he's playing /with/ him.
The game is /on/ now. Who's going to win?
"Oh, but /sweetheart/," Dazai says, honey-sweet, "You know I like taking care of you."
Again,
the words /themselves/ could be innocent, but its the /tone/ he uses to say them, the /same/ tone he uses in /bed/, low and /rough/ that makes Chuuya's body flash heatedly with muscle-memory, remembering what the voice sounded like in his /ear/, in his mouth, on his /skin/--
He
He
smiles, covering up the ball of heat beginning to gather in his belly. "I know," he murmurs, because he /does/ know, Dazai's proven that many times over. "But I want to take care of you /too/, you know? Sometimes it's nice to switch things up."
That earns him an arch of a dark
That earns him an arch of a dark
eyebrow. "Is that what you want? To /switch/ things up?"
Suddenly, Chuuya doesn't feel like they're talking about /cooking/ anymore.
Giving himself a moment to think about his response, Chuuya brings the bowls over to the table. He sets one in front of Dazai, his smile
Suddenly, Chuuya doesn't feel like they're talking about /cooking/ anymore.
Giving himself a moment to think about his response, Chuuya brings the bowls over to the table. He sets one in front of Dazai, his smile
softening at the word of thanks he gets in response.
He settles on the other side of the table with his own bowl, waiting somewhat nervously as Dazai picks up his chopsticks to take his first bite. He's not a /chef/ or anything, and any restaurant has better food than this but
He settles on the other side of the table with his own bowl, waiting somewhat nervously as Dazai picks up his chopsticks to take his first bite. He's not a /chef/ or anything, and any restaurant has better food than this but
he still wants him to /like/ it.
It's his first time cooking for a /boyfriend/. The experience is more nerve-wracking than he thought it'd be.
Dazai's first bite is punctuated by a surprise noise of shock and enjoyment, and it's closely followed by a second bite. It seems like
It's his first time cooking for a /boyfriend/. The experience is more nerve-wracking than he thought it'd be.
Dazai's first bite is punctuated by a surprise noise of shock and enjoyment, and it's closely followed by a second bite. It seems like
he likes it, based on how /eagerly/ he's digging in.
The sight makes Chuuya relax again, confidence resurfacing. "Mm," he hums, taking a bite of his own, "It'd be nice /sometimes/, don't you think? Letting me do all the work, letting me take care of /you/. You wouldn't have to
The sight makes Chuuya relax again, confidence resurfacing. "Mm," he hums, taking a bite of his own, "It'd be nice /sometimes/, don't you think? Letting me do all the work, letting me take care of /you/. You wouldn't have to
think or worry about a /thing/."
Not for the first time, Chuuya is grateful for how short the table is. It means he doesn't have to slouch /too/ much when he reaches under the table with his foot, his socked toes finding Dazai's ankle under the table.
He keeps his expression
Not for the first time, Chuuya is grateful for how short the table is. It means he doesn't have to slouch /too/ much when he reaches under the table with his foot, his socked toes finding Dazai's ankle under the table.
He keeps his expression
open and innocent, his gaze lightly fixed on Dazai's face while he takes another bite. Playing /innocent/ while his foot is slowly dragging up the length of his shin underneath the table, a teasing climb upwards.
Dazai shifts in his chair, his knees spreading /wider/ in clear
Dazai shifts in his chair, his knees spreading /wider/ in clear
invitation. He even pushes his leg forward into his touch, silently asking for /more/. "That /does/ sound nice," he agrees, his eating slowing down now that Chuuya is stirring his /other/ appetites. "Though, I don't think it'd be as easy as you make it sound."
That's fair. Being
That's fair. Being
with Dazai has done /wonders/ for his confidence, and he's certainly sexually experienced by now--
But assuming /he/ can make Dazai mindless might be shooting past confident and going into /cocky/. He can rile him up, can make him /needy/, but mindless is another step after
But assuming /he/ can make Dazai mindless might be shooting past confident and going into /cocky/. He can rile him up, can make him /needy/, but mindless is another step after
/that/, but--
"I'm a fast learner," Chuuya throws out there with a charming grin. By now, his foot has found Dazai's knee and is beginning the agonizingly slow slide /inwards/.
The muscles in Dazai's thigh are tense, clenching in intervals. He can't wait to feel them under his
"I'm a fast learner," Chuuya throws out there with a charming grin. By now, his foot has found Dazai's knee and is beginning the agonizingly slow slide /inwards/.
The muscles in Dazai's thigh are tense, clenching in intervals. He can't wait to feel them under his
hands again, get to touch and feel and /taste/ him.
Dazai arches an eyebrow at him, his expression curious and smug. He doesn’t seem /daunted/ by the subtle conversation at all, which is good news in Chuuya’s eyes. Maybe once he /really/ brings up the idea of fucking /him/,
Dazai arches an eyebrow at him, his expression curious and smug. He doesn’t seem /daunted/ by the subtle conversation at all, which is good news in Chuuya’s eyes. Maybe once he /really/ brings up the idea of fucking /him/,
the conversation will go well.
They’re edging on it /now/, but it’s not clear enough. After their /last/ issues with communication, Chuuya is determined to keep every important conversation blindingly clear and upfront. No subtle understandings, no implications, no reading
They’re edging on it /now/, but it’s not clear enough. After their /last/ issues with communication, Chuuya is determined to keep every important conversation blindingly clear and upfront. No subtle understandings, no implications, no reading
between the lines, no /assumptions/.
It’s a promise that they /both/ made, and while this conversation is /fun/ and obviously building them both up—
It’s nothing certain yet. And Chuuya has something /else/ on his mind.
Dazai tilts his head. “Is that what you wanted to do
It’s a promise that they /both/ made, and while this conversation is /fun/ and obviously building them both up—
It’s nothing certain yet. And Chuuya has something /else/ on his mind.
Dazai tilts his head. “Is that what you wanted to do
tonight?”
“No,” Chuuya hums, his foot sliding inwards all the way and /finally/ pressing the heel of his foot against Dazai’s crotch. Like always, he’s /intoxicatingly/ warm. “Tonight I was thinking of… something /else/.”
He accentuates his words by flexing his toes against
“No,” Chuuya hums, his foot sliding inwards all the way and /finally/ pressing the heel of his foot against Dazai’s crotch. Like always, he’s /intoxicatingly/ warm. “Tonight I was thinking of… something /else/.”
He accentuates his words by flexing his toes against
the slight bulge in Dazai’s pants, grinning at the stirring of interest he can feel there. He’s /winning/, and it feels /so/ good to be wanted /back/ so easily.
Dazai’s free hand drops down, long fingers encircling his ankle. He doesn’t pull him in or push him away, he just—
Dazai’s free hand drops down, long fingers encircling his ankle. He doesn’t pull him in or push him away, he just—
Holds him there, in place, thumb rubbing roughly over the slender bones of his ankle, tracing the outline of his tendons. He has a ring on his index finger that presses warmly against his skin.
“Oh? What /did/ you have in mind then?” Dazai asks, his voice incredibly calm and
“Oh? What /did/ you have in mind then?” Dazai asks, his voice incredibly calm and
collected for how much /heat/ is pouring off his body, for how the very tips of his fingers are tracing swirling patterns over his ankle, so light that Chuuya can't help the reflexive shiver.
And Chuuya--
He's had /enough/ of teasing and building up. Now that he /knows/, very
And Chuuya--
He's had /enough/ of teasing and building up. Now that he /knows/, very
well, how /good/ Dazai can fuck him, he just wants to skip to the best parts after over a /month/ without it. He can enjoy the teasing on a different day, when he's not practically squirming just from fingers sliding slowly up his calf and the feeling of Dazai hardening against
the ball of his foot.
Playing is /fun/, but he spent the last /week/ fantasizing about sex, spent the /entire/ day thinking about what would happen /tonight/, got himself pretty and /dressed/ up, and he /knows/ what he wants.
And now, he is /not/ too shy to go after what he
Playing is /fun/, but he spent the last /week/ fantasizing about sex, spent the /entire/ day thinking about what would happen /tonight/, got himself pretty and /dressed/ up, and he /knows/ what he wants.
And now, he is /not/ too shy to go after what he
wants. Not anymore, not /ever/ again.
He lifts his chin, giving Dazai his /sultriest/ look. "I was /thinking/ you finish eating and then take me upstairs, and I could show you what I'm wearing /underneath/ my clothes," he says, flashing him a smile. "I think you'll like it--
He lifts his chin, giving Dazai his /sultriest/ look. "I was /thinking/ you finish eating and then take me upstairs, and I could show you what I'm wearing /underneath/ my clothes," he says, flashing him a smile. "I think you'll like it--
after all, you bought it for me."
Dazai's /always/ had a thing for buying him things, seeing him in them and /fucking/ him in them. It's gone unmentioned, but Chuuya picked up on how /eager/ he got whenever he was wearing something Dazai bought for him.
The memories of the
Dazai's /always/ had a thing for buying him things, seeing him in them and /fucking/ him in them. It's gone unmentioned, but Chuuya picked up on how /eager/ he got whenever he was wearing something Dazai bought for him.
The memories of the
/last/ time Chuuya dressed up for him-- all white lingerie, that one lacier and /softer/, collar around his neck and leash at the base of his throat-- makes another flare of heat curl enticingly in his stomach.
Dazai's eyes go so dark they might as well be /black/, fixed on his
Dazai's eyes go so dark they might as well be /black/, fixed on his
face with devilish intensity. His hand tightens on his ankle, inadvertently dragging him /in/, his foot pressing harder against the bulge in his pants.
Chuuya can actually /feel/ the responding throb of his erection, and he instinctively lips his lips, wanting it so bad it
Chuuya can actually /feel/ the responding throb of his erection, and he instinctively lips his lips, wanting it so bad it
almost /hurts/--
That seems to be the breaking point for Dazai.
In the next moment, his half-eaten bowl of food-- it's the /least/ Chuuya has ever seen him eat-- gets shoved away. His chair makes a screeching sound when he pushes away from the table, letting go of his ankle so
That seems to be the breaking point for Dazai.
In the next moment, his half-eaten bowl of food-- it's the /least/ Chuuya has ever seen him eat-- gets shoved away. His chair makes a screeching sound when he pushes away from the table, letting go of his ankle so
he can stand.
He's /deliciously/ tall as he rounds the table, and it's moments like these that remind Chuuya of it. He doesn't know if he wants to be /over/ Dazai or /under/ him, taken over by him--
He barely has enough time to bring his legs back to himself and twist in his
He's /deliciously/ tall as he rounds the table, and it's moments like these that remind Chuuya of it. He doesn't know if he wants to be /over/ Dazai or /under/ him, taken over by him--
He barely has enough time to bring his legs back to himself and twist in his
chair to face him before Dazai is bearing down on him and reaching down to pull him up into his arms.
Chuuya jumps to assist, wrapping his legs around Dazai's waist and squeezing him tight. Their hips press together briefly, the heat and firmness there prompting a shuddering
Chuuya jumps to assist, wrapping his legs around Dazai's waist and squeezing him tight. Their hips press together briefly, the heat and firmness there prompting a shuddering
breath of desire from him before he's being hoisted higher into Dazai's arms.
He /almost/ protests, because he wants to /feel/ him, but then his mouth is being covered with a deep, hungry kiss.
Fingers sliding into dark hair, Chuuya makes a delighted noise in the back of his
He /almost/ protests, because he wants to /feel/ him, but then his mouth is being covered with a deep, hungry kiss.
Fingers sliding into dark hair, Chuuya makes a delighted noise in the back of his
throat.
Ever since their /mutual/ confessions, ever since they became /committed/ to each other, their kisses have had a certain /depth/ that they didn't have before. Before, it was mostly /lust/ backed by a burgeoning affection and fondness, both of them exploring just where
Ever since their /mutual/ confessions, ever since they became /committed/ to each other, their kisses have had a certain /depth/ that they didn't have before. Before, it was mostly /lust/ backed by a burgeoning affection and fondness, both of them exploring just where
the boundaries of their relationship were.
Now that they /know/, it's deeper, somehow. More /loving/, more knowing, more /emotional/. Dazai knows /exactly/ how he likes to be kissed, has kissed him hundreds of times at any time of the day, knows every weakness of his and uses
Now that they /know/, it's deeper, somehow. More /loving/, more knowing, more /emotional/. Dazai knows /exactly/ how he likes to be kissed, has kissed him hundreds of times at any time of the day, knows every weakness of his and uses
them in his favor.
And just as much as Dazai knows him, Chuuya knows /Dazai/. Knows how he looks at obscene hours of the morning, eyes tired and hair crazy, knows how /hurt/ he once was and how much /better/ he's gotten, knows how /gently/ he's /always/ treated him even though
And just as much as Dazai knows him, Chuuya knows /Dazai/. Knows how he looks at obscene hours of the morning, eyes tired and hair crazy, knows how /hurt/ he once was and how much /better/ he's gotten, knows how /gently/ he's /always/ treated him even though
kindness has never been something that was taught to him.
Kindness is something that he had to /learn/, and the fact that he's been /consistently/ respectful of Chuuya and always made sure that he was /comfortable/ and felt /safe/--
It makes Chuuya's heart /soar/. Dazai isn't
Kindness is something that he had to /learn/, and the fact that he's been /consistently/ respectful of Chuuya and always made sure that he was /comfortable/ and felt /safe/--
It makes Chuuya's heart /soar/. Dazai isn't
perfect, they both know that, but he /tries/.
Chuuya can see that clearly now, and it makes every instance of /love/ and kindness that much sweeter. Makes every kiss a little /better/ than the last one, a harmonic growing between them that only grows more /meaningful/ as they
Chuuya can see that clearly now, and it makes every instance of /love/ and kindness that much sweeter. Makes every kiss a little /better/ than the last one, a harmonic growing between them that only grows more /meaningful/ as they
practice.
He barely even registers the fact that Dazai is carrying him upstairs now, too caught up in the whirlwind of emotion, too focused on kissing him with a desperation that feels like /reunion/.
He does notice when Dazai breaks the kiss for a fraction of a second, just
He barely even registers the fact that Dazai is carrying him upstairs now, too caught up in the whirlwind of emotion, too focused on kissing him with a desperation that feels like /reunion/.
He does notice when Dazai breaks the kiss for a fraction of a second, just
long enough to mutter, "No, Yoko," to the dogs when they try to follow them into the room. Then he's back again,like he can't bear to be separated for even a moment.
The door to their bedroom gets kicked shut behind them, and Chuuya is too preoccupied to even /care/ about Yoko's
The door to their bedroom gets kicked shut behind them, and Chuuya is too preoccupied to even /care/ about Yoko's
disgruntled whine when she realizes she's locked out.
His back meets the bed, and his tight grip around Dazai's waist ensures he follows him down, pressing him into the mattress.
His hands move from supporting Chuuya's weight under his thighs to braced near his head, holding
His back meets the bed, and his tight grip around Dazai's waist ensures he follows him down, pressing him into the mattress.
His hands move from supporting Chuuya's weight under his thighs to braced near his head, holding
most of his weight up. His hips end up wedged between Chuuya's thighs, erection pressed against his ass.
He's /boiling/ hot and comfortingly heavy above him, exactly like he remembers, /exactly/ what Chuuya's been fantasizing about for the last few weeks. He can't help himself,
He's /boiling/ hot and comfortingly heavy above him, exactly like he remembers, /exactly/ what Chuuya's been fantasizing about for the last few weeks. He can't help himself,
rolling his hips down against his clothed cock and tightening his legs.
The breath gets knocked out of him when Dazai meets him halfway, hips rocking /up/ to increase the force. Heat explodes through him like a firestorm, making him dizzy.
Dazai goes down on one elbow, the
The breath gets knocked out of him when Dazai meets him halfway, hips rocking /up/ to increase the force. Heat explodes through him like a firestorm, making him dizzy.
Dazai goes down on one elbow, the
length of his body pressed against his own, and he can /feel/ the effort in his body as Dazai rocks forward again, slowly starting up a /rhythm/--
There's just one tiny problem.
"Wait--" Chuuya gasps, pulling away. He doesn't have much room to /move/, but the way Dazai
There's just one tiny problem.
"Wait--" Chuuya gasps, pulling away. He doesn't have much room to /move/, but the way Dazai
immediately goes still on top of him is heartwarming.
"What?" Dazai murmurs into the meager space between them, his breath humid and exciting, and Chuuya is /this/ close to saying 'fuck it, just keep kissing me'--
"You gotta kick him out," Chuuya says, tilting his head to where
"What?" Dazai murmurs into the meager space between them, his breath humid and exciting, and Chuuya is /this/ close to saying 'fuck it, just keep kissing me'--
"You gotta kick him out," Chuuya says, tilting his head to where
Baki is stretched out along the bed and glaring at them disgruntledly for interrupting his nap.
Dazai pauses, so close that Chuuya can feel the smile start to form on his face. "Seriously?"
"/Yeah/, seriously," he says, digging his knees into his side. "We can't /fuck/ while
Dazai pauses, so close that Chuuya can feel the smile start to form on his face. "Seriously?"
"/Yeah/, seriously," he says, digging his knees into his side. "We can't /fuck/ while
he’s in here. I don’t want him to /watch/, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to watch /either/.”
There’s a moments pause, where Chuuya is /sure/ Dazai is holding back laughter—
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, fond, dropping one last kiss on his lips before pulling off of him.
Baki
There’s a moments pause, where Chuuya is /sure/ Dazai is holding back laughter—
“You’re ridiculous,” he says, fond, dropping one last kiss on his lips before pulling off of him.
Baki
watches him approach warily.
“Come on, little guy,” Dazai says cheerfully, sliding his hands underneath his body. “You heard your father— you’re getting evicted.”
Baki uses his main, most /powerful/ defense against him—
Which is going completely limp and yowling mournfully.
“Come on, little guy,” Dazai says cheerfully, sliding his hands underneath his body. “You heard your father— you’re getting evicted.”
Baki uses his main, most /powerful/ defense against him—
Which is going completely limp and yowling mournfully.
“Don’t cry about it. Take it up with management, I’m just following orders,” Dazai tells the cat—who sounds like he’s being /assaulted/, not gently carried out of the room like a baby— before opening the door.
Yoko’s snout pushes through the gap. Dazai drops Baki on her face,
Yoko’s snout pushes through the gap. Dazai drops Baki on her face,
therefore pushing her back, and quickly closes the door before any of the animals can push their way back in.
(Outside, Yoko and Baki stare at eachother for a /long/ time, both of them startled, before eventually Baki decides she makes a nice enough scritching post and rubs up
(Outside, Yoko and Baki stare at eachother for a /long/ time, both of them startled, before eventually Baki decides she makes a nice enough scritching post and rubs up
against her front legs with a quiet purr.)
“It’s like having kids,” Dazai mutters, locking the door behind him because Baki has this /habit/ of reaching up and pulling on the knobs until he somehow manages to open the door.
That pulls a laugh out of Chuuya, his chest warming
“It’s like having kids,” Dazai mutters, locking the door behind him because Baki has this /habit/ of reaching up and pulling on the knobs until he somehow manages to open the door.
That pulls a laugh out of Chuuya, his chest warming
at the reminder at how much of a little /family/ they’ve built together.
(A family that is not /quite/ done growing yet, because there is still room for /one/ more person.)
When Dazai makes his way back over to the bed, the frantic energy of the mood has cooled a little.
(A family that is not /quite/ done growing yet, because there is still room for /one/ more person.)
When Dazai makes his way back over to the bed, the frantic energy of the mood has cooled a little.
It’s not /gone/, but it’s given Chuuya a moment to think and collect himself. It’s given him a moment to wiggle closer to the middle of the bed, so he’s not half-hanging off the end of it awkwardly.
Dazai pauses at the edge of the bed, heated gaze raking over his body. Taking
Dazai pauses at the edge of the bed, heated gaze raking over his body. Taking
in the arch of his body, how rumpled his clothes are, the peak of the straps around his thighs showing from beneath his shorts.
Eager, Chuuya’s hand falls to his pants, reaching for the button to pop it open so he can wiggle out of them—
“No,” Dazai murmurs, reaching for his
Eager, Chuuya’s hand falls to his pants, reaching for the button to pop it open so he can wiggle out of them—
“No,” Dazai murmurs, reaching for his
ankle again and tugging his leg closer to him. “Let me?”
His voice is /filled/ with heat and temptation, a prelude to the things that will happen /soon/. Chuuya nods, an electric shiver trembling down his spine.
His skin feels hypersensitive, every slight brush of Dazai’s
His voice is /filled/ with heat and temptation, a prelude to the things that will happen /soon/. Chuuya nods, an electric shiver trembling down his spine.
His skin feels hypersensitive, every slight brush of Dazai’s
fingers over his skin feeling like hot electricity, goosebumps rising up on his leg.
The first piece of clothing to go is Chuuya’s right sock. Dazai’s finger hooks in it so he can peel it off slowly, his other hand cupping his lower calf to keep his leg high in the air.
The
The first piece of clothing to go is Chuuya’s right sock. Dazai’s finger hooks in it so he can peel it off slowly, his other hand cupping his lower calf to keep his leg high in the air.
The
sock gets tossed to the floor, immediately forgotten in favor of Dazai leaning forward.
His lips find his ankle, tracing over the slender fragility of it, teeth scraping occasionally over the bone in a way that makes Chuuya twitch. It's not /painful/-- it's /worshipful/,
His lips find his ankle, tracing over the slender fragility of it, teeth scraping occasionally over the bone in a way that makes Chuuya twitch. It's not /painful/-- it's /worshipful/,
tasting everything that Chuuya has to offer, nibbling indulgently as he moves up, up, up.
Before, he never would have classified his lower legs as /sensitive/, but there's something so /electric/ about the way his mouth slides over his skin, taking his time to find every
Before, he never would have classified his lower legs as /sensitive/, but there's something so /electric/ about the way his mouth slides over his skin, taking his time to find every
interesting spot and lavishing it with attention.
There's a scar on his shin that Chuuya got from a bike when he was a kid, and Dazai pauses there for a long moment, sealing his mouth around it to /suck/, tongue sliding over his skin indulgently.
A freckle closer to his knee
There's a scar on his shin that Chuuya got from a bike when he was a kid, and Dazai pauses there for a long moment, sealing his mouth around it to /suck/, tongue sliding over his skin indulgently.
A freckle closer to his knee
gains Dazai's attention for a moment, and Chuuya feels like he's being built up, tension slowly winding him tight with every slow slide of Dazai's tongue, every flick of his piercing over his skin.
Then his mouth is coasting over his knee, teeth scraping over the joint like he's
Then his mouth is coasting over his knee, teeth scraping over the joint like he's
debating on /eating/ him, only to settle on a spot a little higher up and slightly inwards, sucking on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh until it's pulsing in time.
Sex is /usually/ more fast-paced between them. Driven by frantic desperation and a frantic need for more,
Sex is /usually/ more fast-paced between them. Driven by frantic desperation and a frantic need for more,
/now/. Chuuya isn't ashamed to admit that /he's/ usually the one who pushes the pace because he's /addicted/ to the pleasure Dazai can give him--
But this is nice, he decides through a haze of heat, reaching down to slide one hand into Dazai's hair. It's not /rushed/, and he can
But this is nice, he decides through a haze of heat, reaching down to slide one hand into Dazai's hair. It's not /rushed/, and he can
enjoy every second of Dazai's mouth slowly climbing upwards. There's no risk of being /caught/, there's nowhere they have to go, there's nothing /else/ they have to do.
He can just lay here, affectionately running his hands through his hair over and over and over again, and
He can just lay here, affectionately running his hands through his hair over and over and over again, and
enjoy the slowly building tension and /know/, without a shadow of a doubt, that he's going to be taken care of.
When Dazai reaches the top of his thigh, his hand slides up from his calf to hook under his knee and push his leg open wider. He moves forward, one knee sinking into
When Dazai reaches the top of his thigh, his hand slides up from his calf to hook under his knee and push his leg open wider. He moves forward, one knee sinking into
the bed with his free hand bracing his weight, just as his mouth finds the lowermost strap wrapped around his thigh. He seals his mouth over it, a fraction of an inch below his shorts, slipping his tongue underneath the strap to tease at the skin beneath.
The suction on his
The suction on his
inner thigh, so /close/ to where he wants it, so /close/ to where his erection is straining against the zipper of his shorts, makes Chuuya squirm, panting. His entire leg feels tingly, made hyper-sensitive by the worshipful devotion Dazai gave his skin, and he wants that mouth
/everywhere/. Wants it on his chest, on his /neck/, on his mouth sharing their breaths, on his /cock/.
He wants every inch of himself to be claimed by Dazai, wants to do the same in reverse, because they /belong/ to each other. Utterly and completely.
A tug on Dazai's hair
He wants every inch of himself to be claimed by Dazai, wants to do the same in reverse, because they /belong/ to each other. Utterly and completely.
A tug on Dazai's hair
earns him a smirk pressed against his skin, a feeling that makes him shiver in response.
Letting go of his thigh with a wet pop, Dazai moves upward again, hot breath washing over the fabric of his shorts. His lips brush over the bulge of his erection trapped behind his zipper,
Letting go of his thigh with a wet pop, Dazai moves upward again, hot breath washing over the fabric of his shorts. His lips brush over the bulge of his erection trapped behind his zipper,
the pressure so light that it's a /tease/ that makes Chuuya shudder in reaction, hands tightening in his hair.
His teeth find the button of his shorts, somehow managing to tug on it in exactly the right way that it comes undone. Chuuya's shirt has ridden up, so he can feel his
His teeth find the button of his shorts, somehow managing to tug on it in exactly the right way that it comes undone. Chuuya's shirt has ridden up, so he can feel his
breath on his lower stomach as Dazai noses the fabric aside so he can catch the zipper underneath with his teeth.
Chuuya holds his breath, insanely turned on at the casual display of /skill/ and the pressure against his trapped erection as Dazai /agonizingly/ slowly pulls down
Chuuya holds his breath, insanely turned on at the casual display of /skill/ and the pressure against his trapped erection as Dazai /agonizingly/ slowly pulls down
his zipper.
By the time Dazai gets to the end, Chuuya is squirming unconsciously, his breath shuddering out every time he presses a little /harder/ against his erection, giving him a /taste/ of friction but with no relief. Building him up slowly, bit by bit, winding him tighter
By the time Dazai gets to the end, Chuuya is squirming unconsciously, his breath shuddering out every time he presses a little /harder/ against his erection, giving him a /taste/ of friction but with no relief. Building him up slowly, bit by bit, winding him tighter
around his clever fingers and even more skillful tongue.
He's half-hoping that Dazai will just lean up and yank the shorts off of him so he can get to the lacy lingerie underneath--
But instead, Dazai starts moving down again, this time worshipping attention on his other leg.
He's half-hoping that Dazai will just lean up and yank the shorts off of him so he can get to the lacy lingerie underneath--
But instead, Dazai starts moving down again, this time worshipping attention on his other leg.
This one is even /more/ exciting, because his hands have reached up and hooked in the waistband of his shorts, and every time he moves farther down, he tugs his pants down a little further.
The same spot on his inner thigh gets a matching hickey to the other side, twin points of
The same spot on his inner thigh gets a matching hickey to the other side, twin points of
throbbing sensuality that just adds to the gathering heat in his belly. Another small scar on his knee has the years-ago phantom pain sucked away, shorts tugged halfway down his thighs. A scraping path of teeth and tongue down his shin that ends up with another bite on his
ankle and his shorts around his shins.
Then Dazai is leaning back, sliding his pants off the rest of the way and taking his remaining sock off in one smooth motion. And then he just--
/Stays/ there, taking in the sight of him, gaze roaming over his body like a physical weight.
Then Dazai is leaning back, sliding his pants off the rest of the way and taking his remaining sock off in one smooth motion. And then he just--
/Stays/ there, taking in the sight of him, gaze roaming over his body like a physical weight.
Touching on every piece of strap and lace on his body-- it's a two piece originally, but Chuuya skipped the upper half today, leaving just his lower body up to his waist and down to his thighs wrapped up prettily in crisscrossing straps, his erection covered by a thin panel of
lace.
Slightly impatient, Chuuya reaches down to tug his own shirt off. He wants /skin/ contact, wants every part of him touching every part of Dazai, and he's not patient enough to wait for him to slowly slide it off like he did his shorts.
He arches his back alluringly,
Slightly impatient, Chuuya reaches down to tug his own shirt off. He wants /skin/ contact, wants every part of him touching every part of Dazai, and he's not patient enough to wait for him to slowly slide it off like he did his shorts.
He arches his back alluringly,
hooking one of his knees around Dazai's hip to tug him in, silently /begging/ him to come down here again, touch him, taste him, /love/ him, /please/--
"God," Dazai croaks, sounding /struck/. His palm presses against his thigh, fingers digging in just enough to let Chuuya know
"God," Dazai croaks, sounding /struck/. His palm presses against his thigh, fingers digging in just enough to let Chuuya know
that his restraint is /thinning/. "You are /so/ fucking beautiful."
Despite himself, Chuuya flushes a bit, somehow still unused to receiving genuine, unconscious compliments like /that/.
But Dazai still doesn't move, like he's /stuck/ admiring him, and Chuuya is /impatient/--
Despite himself, Chuuya flushes a bit, somehow still unused to receiving genuine, unconscious compliments like /that/.
But Dazai still doesn't move, like he's /stuck/ admiring him, and Chuuya is /impatient/--
So he hooks his other leg around Dazai's waist, and with one powerful twist of his body, he manages to smoothly reverse their positions.
Dazai lands heavily on his back on the bed, eyes so wide with surprise that Chuuya preens with pride,smiling down at him victoriously from his
Dazai lands heavily on his back on the bed, eyes so wide with surprise that Chuuya preens with pride,smiling down at him victoriously from his
perch straddling his lap.
"My turn," Chuuya tells him breathlessly, immediately diving down to kiss him.
It's full of heat and need, the feeling of Dazai warm and solid and /hard/ beneath him driving Chuuya to deepen the kiss instantly. Dazai opens up for him with a single nip
"My turn," Chuuya tells him breathlessly, immediately diving down to kiss him.
It's full of heat and need, the feeling of Dazai warm and solid and /hard/ beneath him driving Chuuya to deepen the kiss instantly. Dazai opens up for him with a single nip
on his bottom lip,and then Chuuya's tongue is pushing inside, tracing the outline of his teeth.
The metal ball of his tongue piercing drags against the bottom of his tongue when Dazai meets him halfway, making him shudder in response.All he can feel, all he can /taste/ is Dazai,
The metal ball of his tongue piercing drags against the bottom of his tongue when Dazai meets him halfway, making him shudder in response.All he can feel, all he can /taste/ is Dazai,
from the very tips of his toes to the very breath in his lungs.
Before he can get /too/ distracted-- because feeling Dazai's erection under his mostly-bare ass is already a distracting temptation enough-- he breaks the kiss in favor of sliding to the side, lavishing Dazai's
Before he can get /too/ distracted-- because feeling Dazai's erection under his mostly-bare ass is already a distracting temptation enough-- he breaks the kiss in favor of sliding to the side, lavishing Dazai's
jawline with a series of kisses.
There's a spot, just under the bolt of his jaw, that Dazai /loves/, and Chuuya zeroes in on it, sucking until he's /sure/ there will be a mark left over, and sinking his teeth into sensitive skin until he can feel him twitching beneath him.
Then
There's a spot, just under the bolt of his jaw, that Dazai /loves/, and Chuuya zeroes in on it, sucking until he's /sure/ there will be a mark left over, and sinking his teeth into sensitive skin until he can feel him twitching beneath him.
Then
he's steadily moving down his neck, peppering his skin with bites because Dazai /loves/ being bitten, even if he never outright admitted to it. He's not as slow as Dazai was, because he can feel his hips subtly rocking up to meet him and it's driving him /crazy/, but he does take
the time to find all his favorite spots and briefly lavish them with attention.
Dazai's shirt gets in the way eventually, and while Chuuya is skilled or confident enough to try unbuttoning it with his teeth, he does reach up and unbutton it slowly, pausing between each button
Dazai's shirt gets in the way eventually, and while Chuuya is skilled or confident enough to try unbuttoning it with his teeth, he does reach up and unbutton it slowly, pausing between each button
to lavish the revealed skin of his chest with attention, peppering sucking bites over his body until little marks appear in his wake.
He has to shift his position when he gets lower, rising up on his knees to scoot backwards. Dazai’s stomach, etched with muscle, flexes in
He has to shift his position when he gets lower, rising up on his knees to scoot backwards. Dazai’s stomach, etched with muscle, flexes in
reaction, a temptation that Chuuya /can’t/ ignore.
He slides his tongue over the indents of his hips, steadily making his way inwards and down to the short trail of hair peaking out from the waist of Dazai’s pants. His hands come up, bracing his weight over his hips and dipping
He slides his tongue over the indents of his hips, steadily making his way inwards and down to the short trail of hair peaking out from the waist of Dazai’s pants. His hands come up, bracing his weight over his hips and dipping
into his waistband to tug on his pants.
And now, with the bulge of Dazai’s erection only an inch from his face, Chuuya decides to pay /back/ all the teasing Dazai had just done to him.
He looks up, thrilling when he sees that Dazai is already looking /down/ at him, eyes nearly
And now, with the bulge of Dazai’s erection only an inch from his face, Chuuya decides to pay /back/ all the teasing Dazai had just done to him.
He looks up, thrilling when he sees that Dazai is already looking /down/ at him, eyes nearly
glowing with heat in the relative darkness of the room.
Letting his eyes fall into that half-lidded look he always gets when he’s got a mouthful of cock, Chuuya maintains searing eye contact as he rolls his tongue out and /slowly/ licks the length of Dazai’s clothed erection.
Letting his eyes fall into that half-lidded look he always gets when he’s got a mouthful of cock, Chuuya maintains searing eye contact as he rolls his tongue out and /slowly/ licks the length of Dazai’s clothed erection.
He can feel it /throb/ in reaction under his tongue, burning hot even through the barrier of cloth.
It’s a victory in itself to see how /easily/ he can affect Dazai, how easy it is to fall into the natural rhythm of give and take, how delicious pleasure tastes on his tongue.
It’s a victory in itself to see how /easily/ he can affect Dazai, how easy it is to fall into the natural rhythm of give and take, how delicious pleasure tastes on his tongue.
It's /thrilling/, it makes sensual confidence bubble up inside him that makes it so /easy/ to hurriedly pop open the button of Dazai's jeans and carefully tug down the zipper.
For once, Dazai is /actually/ wearing underwear, which is partly a hinderance but also kind of /cute/.
For once, Dazai is /actually/ wearing underwear, which is partly a hinderance but also kind of /cute/.
Clearly he wasn't /expecting/ to be seduced, because if he /had/, he would've skipped wearing underwear.
Chuuya indulgently seals his mouth over the head of his cock over his underwear, roughly running over his tongue over the shape of him until the fabric is wet. At the same
Chuuya indulgently seals his mouth over the head of his cock over his underwear, roughly running over his tongue over the shape of him until the fabric is wet. At the same
he reaches up, hooking his fingers in the waistbands of his jeans and underwear and /slowly/ beginning to tug them down.
It's meant to be /payback/ for the way Dazai was teasingly stripping him earlier, but by the twitch of his erection and the pleasured hiss that comes from
It's meant to be /payback/ for the way Dazai was teasingly stripping him earlier, but by the twitch of his erection and the pleasured hiss that comes from
above, his boyfriend is /enjoying/ it.
A hand comes down, fingers threading through his hair. Usually, when Chuuya is sucking him off, the hand on his head is a /guiding/ force, subtly pushing him to where Dazai wants him to go and encouraging him to do what he likes.
Today,
A hand comes down, fingers threading through his hair. Usually, when Chuuya is sucking him off, the hand on his head is a /guiding/ force, subtly pushing him to where Dazai wants him to go and encouraging him to do what he likes.
Today,
though, his hand is unfailingly gentle. He doesn't push him or encourage him to do something /else/, he just strokes his hands through his hair like he can't /not/ touch him. Like he's enjoying this in all it's aspects, from the rough pleasure he gets from the friction to the
feel of him under his hands.
The subtle dynamic change-- wherein Chuuya has /more/ power and control than he usually does-- only drives him higher. It fuels him to stop playing with him, sitting back up so he can yank his pants and underwear off in the same motion.
Dazai helps
The subtle dynamic change-- wherein Chuuya has /more/ power and control than he usually does-- only drives him higher. It fuels him to stop playing with him, sitting back up so he can yank his pants and underwear off in the same motion.
Dazai helps
him out by wiggling his hips, raising his legs to make it easier to pull the fabric off, and kicking his foot when his jeans snag around his ankle.
Then he's /naked/, his open shirt pooling around his sides on the bed, erection lying hard and deliciously flushed against his
Then he's /naked/, his open shirt pooling around his sides on the bed, erection lying hard and deliciously flushed against his
stomach, so /enticing/ that Chuuya's mouth waters just from looking at, desperately wanting his hands on it, his /mouth/ on it, /inside/ him--
Before he can dive back down, hands are hooking under his arms and dragging him up again. He goes willingly, knees on either side of
Before he can dive back down, hands are hooking under his arms and dragging him up again. He goes willingly, knees on either side of
Dazai's hips as he gets pulled into another searing kiss.
This one is /hotter/ than the ones before it, a desperate tension building that makes Dazai pull his bottom lip into his mouth and suck on it until it's throbbing, a need that drives Chuuya to press forward with all his
This one is /hotter/ than the ones before it, a desperate tension building that makes Dazai pull his bottom lip into his mouth and suck on it until it's throbbing, a need that drives Chuuya to press forward with all his
weight to deepen the kiss.
As he settles further down, Dazai's erection slides against his ass and the underside of his cock through the lace. The friction and the /feel/ of him-- god, he's /so/ big, radiating delicious heat, that it makes his head spin with a heady combination
As he settles further down, Dazai's erection slides against his ass and the underside of his cock through the lace. The friction and the /feel/ of him-- god, he's /so/ big, radiating delicious heat, that it makes his head spin with a heady combination
of memories and /fantasy/, all the things Dazai /has/ done to him and all the things he /wants/ him to do swirling together intoxicatingly-- makes a shuddering breath escape him, one that Dazai drinks straight out of his mouth like wine.
Unable to help himself, he rocks his hips
Unable to help himself, he rocks his hips
down against him, shivering at the friction. He's throbbing in his own underwear, the lace adding a /hint/ of friction that just deepens the experience.
One of Dazai's hands slides down his body, tracing over the spots made previously sensitive. Thumbing at his nipples until
One of Dazai's hands slides down his body, tracing over the spots made previously sensitive. Thumbing at his nipples until
he's fighting the urge to squirm, brushing over his ribs with a care that he never had before, long fingers wrapping around one of his hips and encouraging him to pick up a longer, slower grinding rhythm.
He just /touches/ him, all over, filling his palms with the feel of his
He just /touches/ him, all over, filling his palms with the feel of his
skin, like he's rememorizing the shape of him. Like the new /connection/ between them gives so much more meaning to every touch and tremble, and Dazai is helpless to do anything but to /drown/ in it.
Chuuya doesn't know how long they spend there, endlessly kissing with their
Chuuya doesn't know how long they spend there, endlessly kissing with their
hands roaming. The urgency for /more/ is there at the back of his mind, but every kiss tempers it a little more. Makes it seem like he could spend /forever/ here and never miss a thing.
At some point, both of Dazai's hands find his lower back, fingers slipping underneath the
At some point, both of Dazai's hands find his lower back, fingers slipping underneath the
straps of the lingerie to knead at his ass.
The reminder of what will happen /next/ breaks Chuuya from the spell he was under. He pushes back into Dazai's hands,arching his spine enticingly as he pulls back slightly from the kiss.
"Please," he murmurs, almost directly into his
The reminder of what will happen /next/ breaks Chuuya from the spell he was under. He pushes back into Dazai's hands,arching his spine enticingly as he pulls back slightly from the kiss.
"Please," he murmurs, almost directly into his
mouth, one of the few things either of them have said during this entire scene.
It barely even feels like they /need/ words. They know each other so well that they don't /need/ to speak to satisfy each other completely.
From this close, Dazai's eyes look pitch black when they
It barely even feels like they /need/ words. They know each other so well that they don't /need/ to speak to satisfy each other completely.
From this close, Dazai's eyes look pitch black when they
open, a reflection of all of Chuuya's deepest desires. "I got you," he mutters back, using all those hard muscles to surge upwards and flip their positions again, dumping Chuuya on his back and bearing down over top of him.
Excitement crackles like lightning, and his thighs
Excitement crackles like lightning, and his thighs
spread wider automatically to fit his larger body in-between.He reaches for him, wanting another /kiss/--
Only for Dazai to evade him with a fondly smug smirk, straightening so he can reach into his bedside table. Through the course of their relationship, Dazai's /supplies/ have
Only for Dazai to evade him with a fondly smug smirk, straightening so he can reach into his bedside table. Through the course of their relationship, Dazai's /supplies/ have
somehow navigated from neatly organized drawers /under/ the bed to their favorite flavors and toys of the week being stored in his bedside table for easier access. Chuuya once pointed it out with a snicker, and Dazai just said it was because he couldn't /bear/ to be separated
for him that long, blowing raspberries against his skin until he laughed.
The /last/ toys they used were a succession of cherry flavored lubes and intimidatingly large plugs—Dazai said he wants to get his /hand/ inside him one day, which is an intimidating as it is /intriguing/—
The /last/ toys they used were a succession of cherry flavored lubes and intimidatingly large plugs—Dazai said he wants to get his /hand/ inside him one day, which is an intimidating as it is /intriguing/—
but the lube he pulls out this time isn’t either of those.
It’s still in a /box/, and while it doesn’t take Dazai long to open it up and dump the bottle into his hand, it’s just long enough for Chuuya to catch the title of ‘stimulating lube’ on the box before it’s tossed away.
It’s still in a /box/, and while it doesn’t take Dazai long to open it up and dump the bottle into his hand, it’s just long enough for Chuuya to catch the title of ‘stimulating lube’ on the box before it’s tossed away.
The sight of it makes Chuuya’s eyebrow quirk up, anticipation stirring hotly in his stomach. He didn’t even know ‘stimulating’ lube existed, and he wonders how it’s different than the warming one.
Somehow, Dazai always has something /new/ and exciting to show him, always
Somehow, Dazai always has something /new/ and exciting to show him, always
expanding his knowledge on sex, letting him explore and find new boundaries, new enjoyments, new /limits/. It's never /boring/, and just when Chuuya thinks he knows it all, Dazai brings up the idea of something /new/.
He's glad he didn't suggest a toy today though. Stimulating
He's glad he didn't suggest a toy today though. Stimulating
lube adds just /enough/ variety, while letting the main focus be /them/. Chuuya likes the toys, but today he just wants to revel in their /connection/.
Tossing the bottle of lube onto the bed, Dazai takes a second to completely shrug off his shirt. When he crawls back onto the
Tossing the bottle of lube onto the bed, Dazai takes a second to completely shrug off his shirt. When he crawls back onto the
bed, hovering over him, he's completely naked.
Thighs spreading eagerly to fit him between, Chuuya tugs him down into another kiss. There's a /need/ inside him that he can't deny, one that only feels satiated when he's as close to Dazai as he can be, skin on skin, breathing the
Thighs spreading eagerly to fit him between, Chuuya tugs him down into another kiss. There's a /need/ inside him that he can't deny, one that only feels satiated when he's as close to Dazai as he can be, skin on skin, breathing the
same air as him.
Dazai meets him eagerly, dropping down to one elbow so he can cup the back of Chuuya's skull in one hand, tilting his head to the perfect angle to give him a /searing/ kiss. Deep and perfect and /satisfying/.
Based on the movements of his shoulder, he can tell
Dazai meets him eagerly, dropping down to one elbow so he can cup the back of Chuuya's skull in one hand, tilting his head to the perfect angle to give him a /searing/ kiss. Deep and perfect and /satisfying/.
Based on the movements of his shoulder, he can tell
that he's reaching out to find the lube bottle, dragging back to their sides. At the same time he pops the cap on it one-handed-- god, how /dexterous/ and strong his hands are is insanely sexy--, Dazai pulls back to breath something worshipful into his mouth:
"I love you."
"I love you."
Chuuya shudders in response, fingers sliding into Dazai's hair to pull him into /another/ kiss, trying to express the sheer amount of /emotion/ in his chest.
He's still not used to /hearing/ it. Dazai's said it tens of times now, and it never fails to make Chuuya feel full to
He's still not used to /hearing/ it. Dazai's said it tens of times now, and it never fails to make Chuuya feel full to
/bursting/. Each time it feels like he's saying it for the /second/ time-- not the first, because /that/ was a shit show, but the /second/ time was perfect-- and he keeps wondering about how many times Dazai will have to say it before it stops feeling so /monumental/. How long it
will take before it’s such an essential, consistent part of his life that it feels /normal/.
Dazai’s fingers, freshly wet with lube, brush over his pelvis, dragging wet fingertips over his hips, the neatly trimmed trail of hair leading /down/, over the shape of his erection
Dazai’s fingers, freshly wet with lube, brush over his pelvis, dragging wet fingertips over his hips, the neatly trimmed trail of hair leading /down/, over the shape of his erection
over the lace, down, down /down/, until he’s tugging the underwear out of the way so he can press lubed fingers to his hole.
Thankfully, he doesn’t /tease/ him like he usually might. Instead he just starts the slow press in, not drawing the foreplay out but also making sure
Thankfully, he doesn’t /tease/ him like he usually might. Instead he just starts the slow press in, not drawing the foreplay out but also making sure
not to push his body too fast too soon.
It’s when Dazai’s index finger is buried to the first knuckle inside of him, wiggling enticingly, that Chuuya finally feels like he can /think/ past the soaring emotions that seem to have grown /wings/ in his chest, pulling back just far
It’s when Dazai’s index finger is buried to the first knuckle inside of him, wiggling enticingly, that Chuuya finally feels like he can /think/ past the soaring emotions that seem to have grown /wings/ in his chest, pulling back just far
enough to whimper back to him breathlessly, “I love you /too/.”
Dazai surges forward in instant response, like he’s trying to swallow the words directly from his mouth, like he’s trying to taste the syllables on his tongue. Like he doesn’t know what to do with the overload of
Dazai surges forward in instant response, like he’s trying to swallow the words directly from his mouth, like he’s trying to taste the syllables on his tongue. Like he doesn’t know what to do with the overload of
emotions /either/, all he knows what to do is /kiss/ him.
Over and over and over again, devouring him /whole/—heart, body, mind, soul— claiming every part of him. Taking everything that Chuuya offers up to him and making it /his/.
Lightheaded and dizzy from the combination of
Over and over and over again, devouring him /whole/—heart, body, mind, soul— claiming every part of him. Taking everything that Chuuya offers up to him and making it /his/.
Lightheaded and dizzy from the combination of
oxygen deprivation and sensation, Chuuya barely recognizes as Dazai slowly buries his finger into him up to the last knuckle. Pleasure sparks when his finger crooks upward, but he’s too busy sucking on his tongue like his life /depends/ on it, drinking him in.
One finger quickly
One finger quickly
becomes two, and this is when Chuuya starts to feel the /ache/ of the stretch.
Before, two fingers was no problem, but he hasn’t had anything inside him since the /last/ time they fucked, and his body has almost forgotten how /big/ Dazai’s fingers feel inside him. He can
Before, two fingers was no problem, but he hasn’t had anything inside him since the /last/ time they fucked, and his body has almost forgotten how /big/ Dazai’s fingers feel inside him. He can
breathe through the stretch and it’s not /painful/—
He’s just not /used/ to it anymore, and it’s almost like their first time again.
In a way, maybe it /is/ their first time again, because now there’s no secrets. There’s no pretenses, no more dark backstories, no conceived
He’s just not /used/ to it anymore, and it’s almost like their first time again.
In a way, maybe it /is/ their first time again, because now there’s no secrets. There’s no pretenses, no more dark backstories, no conceived
loyalties to anyone else, no insecurity, /nothing/.
They know each other now. They know everything /about/ each other, and the feelings they have are stronger than they’ve ever been before.
When Dazai’s two fingers are halfway inside of him, flexing intermittently and rubbing
They know each other now. They know everything /about/ each other, and the feelings they have are stronger than they’ve ever been before.
When Dazai’s two fingers are halfway inside of him, flexing intermittently and rubbing
against his sensitive inner muscles indulgently, Dazai pulls back from the kiss again.
“Say it again,” he murmurs, sliding sideways to press his soft request into the heated skin of his cheek, punctuating his request with achingly soft and adoring kisses rained over his cheek.
“Say it again,” he murmurs, sliding sideways to press his soft request into the heated skin of his cheek, punctuating his request with achingly soft and adoring kisses rained over his cheek.
And then he— a man who does /not/ beg, a man who is used to having frightful people on their knees and looking to him for direction, a man who was born and sculpted to /lead/—adds something else in a gently pleading voice that Chuuya can’t resist, even if he wanted to:
“Please?”
“Please?”
Letting out a shuddering breath, Chuuya rocks down into his hands. He tightens his legs around his waist and arches upward, increasing the context between them until they’re pressed together as closely as possible. Turning his head, he nudges his cheek into Dazai’s nose, and lets
his words fill the meager space between them. “I love you, Dazai.”
Attaching his /name/ pulls a sharper reaction from him, and in the next moment Dazai’s pressing a sucking kiss over his jawline at the same time he spreads his fingers inside him almost /ruthlessly/ far.
It
Attaching his /name/ pulls a sharper reaction from him, and in the next moment Dazai’s pressing a sucking kiss over his jawline at the same time he spreads his fingers inside him almost /ruthlessly/ far.
It
twinges slightly, a spark of aching pain lighting within him, but it’s nothing to relax into Dazai’s touch completely. It’s /nothing/ to take what he’s given and know without a /shred/ of doubt, that he will be cherished and taken care of.
And now that Chuuya knows what he
And now that Chuuya knows what he
/wants/, what he /likes/, what affects him, it’s so /easy/ to chase after it.
“I love you.” A twist of his fingers that leaves him breathless, expertly finding all his sensitive places and lavishing attention on them.
“I love you.” Dazai’s mouth settling on a spot just
“I love you.” A twist of his fingers that leaves him breathless, expertly finding all his sensitive places and lavishing attention on them.
“I love you.” Dazai’s mouth settling on a spot just
underneath his jaw, sucking and sucking until he can feel his pulse throbbing steadily in his mouth.
“I love you, Osamu.” His hand pulling back, two fingers replaced by /three/, and it’s /so/ easy to melt into them, internally thrilling at how /easily/ his body takes Dazai. At
“I love you, Osamu.” His hand pulling back, two fingers replaced by /three/, and it’s /so/ easy to melt into them, internally thrilling at how /easily/ his body takes Dazai. At
how /well/ they fit together, even if it might seem like they might not work with their size difference, and how Chuuya only feels full fo /bursting/ when he’s got Dazai buried inside him.
Even though Dazai is clearly concentrated on gracing his neck with a choker of marks made
Even though Dazai is clearly concentrated on gracing his neck with a choker of marks made
by his teeth and tongue, over and under and beneath his leather collar—which he has not taken off once he got it back except for when he’s showering— his clever hands don’t pause for a second on the important task of prepping him.
There’s no rush, but there /is/ a burning need
There’s no rush, but there /is/ a burning need
to be as close as physically possible. A desperation that both of them know won’t wane until Dazai is buried to the hilt inside him.
When his fingers— four now, because it /has/ been a while, and Dazai would rather die than risk hurting him right now— finally slide out of him,
When his fingers— four now, because it /has/ been a while, and Dazai would rather die than risk hurting him right now— finally slide out of him,
Chuuya accepts the resulting emptiness with a shuddering sigh.
He’s not worried. The entire time, Dazai’s erection has been pressed to his lower thigh, subtly throbbing, twitching every so often when Chuuya makes a particularly delicious sound and smearing pre-cum over his skin.
He’s not worried. The entire time, Dazai’s erection has been pressed to his lower thigh, subtly throbbing, twitching every so often when Chuuya makes a particularly delicious sound and smearing pre-cum over his skin.
He knows he’s going to be taken care of, because Dazai is just as needy as he is.
For once, there’s no power imbalance. Dazai isn’t calm and controlled while Chuuya is /desperate/, isn’t making plans and driving him crazy with them.
They need each other and when Dazai’s hips
For once, there’s no power imbalance. Dazai isn’t calm and controlled while Chuuya is /desperate/, isn’t making plans and driving him crazy with them.
They need each other and when Dazai’s hips
slide between his thighs, it feels like coming home.
He hitches his knees higher, opening himself up more for Dazai to reach down and line himself up. His eyes go half-lidded at the feel of him, the slicked head of his cock sliding over his entrance.
With his other hand, the
He hitches his knees higher, opening himself up more for Dazai to reach down and line himself up. His eyes go half-lidded at the feel of him, the slicked head of his cock sliding over his entrance.
With his other hand, the
dry one, he reaches up to peel Chuuya’s hand off from where it’s clenched on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to the back of it, quietly worshipful, before he intertwines their fingers together and pins his hand to the mattress.
The first slow slide of him pushing inside is like
The first slow slide of him pushing inside is like
a slow breaking down of Chuuya’s entire world, the very foundation of him crumbling beneath the onslaught of sensational overload that Dazai brings to him. Stripping him of all his defenses, leaving him a raw bundle of nerves that sings under his clever hands.
He shudders when
He shudders when
the head pops through that first ring of muscle, slowly spreading him wider.
Dazai takes that moment to reposition himself, shuffling higher on his knees and moving his hand out of the way. It finds Chuuya’s other hand, and he doesn’t even /care/ that his hand is wet with lube
Dazai takes that moment to reposition himself, shuffling higher on his knees and moving his hand out of the way. It finds Chuuya’s other hand, and he doesn’t even /care/ that his hand is wet with lube
when their fingers slide together.
He ends up with both of his hands pinned to the bed, heavy palms pressed against his own, Dazai leaning forward to press their sweaty foreheads together.
“I love you too, you know,” he sighs into his face, his hips taking up a slow rocking
He ends up with both of his hands pinned to the bed, heavy palms pressed against his own, Dazai leaning forward to press their sweaty foreheads together.
“I love you too, you know,” he sighs into his face, his hips taking up a slow rocking
rhythm that pushes him deeper in slow, tiny increments. It’s the perfect reunion, just fast enough that Chuuya feels like he never gets /used/ to it, always given more as soon as he’s ready.
“How could I not?” Dazai continues, eyes fluttering shut on a pleased sigh, like he’s
“How could I not?” Dazai continues, eyes fluttering shut on a pleased sigh, like he’s
too overwhelmed to keep his eyes open. There’s an expression on his face that Chuuya can’t /quite/ describe, his mind off-center and overwhelmed by the relentless march of pleasure being pressed into him, but it seems so much more /open/ and /vulnerable/ than it usually does.
“You’re so /perfect/,” Dazai sighs, sounding like he’s talking to /himself/, unconscious rambling of /praise/ as his hips finally meet Chuuya’s ass, as deep inside him as he can possibly go, so deep he might as well be housed in his soul. “Perfect just for /me/. So fucking
/pretty/— and /smart/ and /strong/.”
Chuuya clings to him, shuddering, feeling a previously empty hole inside him start to fill up, the ache of it sealed away by his mindless praise. He doesn’t get a lot of compliments on his /character/— he’s been called /too much/ by too many
Chuuya clings to him, shuddering, feeling a previously empty hole inside him start to fill up, the ache of it sealed away by his mindless praise. He doesn’t get a lot of compliments on his /character/— he’s been called /too much/ by too many
people that it’s left an underlying pit of insecurity that he covers up with loud bravado.
He’s always been too /loud/, too /energetic/,too angry, too quick to fight, too restless. There’s always been so many parts of him that are too /much/ for people, and he’s spent a lifetime
He’s always been too /loud/, too /energetic/,too angry, too quick to fight, too restless. There’s always been so many parts of him that are too /much/ for people, and he’s spent a lifetime
oscillating between trying to stuff himself into smaller, neater, more /manageable/ boxes so that people will like him more and telling himself that he doesn’t /care/ if he’s too much for other people because that’s /their/ problem, not his.
So to hear that Dazai likes him—no,
So to hear that Dazai likes him—no,
/loves/ him— and all his pieces, all the parts of himself that Chuuya thought were /flaws/, knows him and accepts him and /loves/ him in his entirety—
It’s enough for him to let out a shuddering breath, fingers tightening around Dazai’s, filled with a renewed determination to
It’s enough for him to let out a shuddering breath, fingers tightening around Dazai’s, filled with a renewed determination to
/never/ let this man go. His legs, wrapped loosely around his back, tighten to drag him in closer, wanting to feel as /close/ to him as physically possible.
He barely even knows where he ends and Dazai begins. Their hands tangled together and pressed to the mattress, a grounding
He barely even knows where he ends and Dazai begins. Their hands tangled together and pressed to the mattress, a grounding
point Dazai used to brace his weight as he starts up a slow, /deep/ rhythm with his hips. Chuuya’s thighs spread wide to fit his hips in between, ankles crossed to press his heels against the small of his back. Their breaths intermingling as Dazai leans down, pressing their
foreheads together in a gesture that's so /intimate/ it takes Chuuya's breath away. Buried to the hilt inside him, claiming every part of him and offering himself up in turn, give and take, siren call to ocean symphony, a melding of two halves into one.
It's /good/. Sex is
It's /good/. Sex is
usually more fast-paced with them, a race to drown themselves in as much pleasure as physically possible, a mutual unraveling. Chuuya hadn't realized how /good/ slow could feel, the relentless march of ecstasy singing in slow-motion across every one of his nerves.
Every slow
Every slow
drag /out/ feels like it touches every pleasurable spot inside him, making him hyper-aware of every bump and ridge of Dazai's cock. Every push back /in/ feels like coming home, all that smoldering pleasure compressing into a ball under the pressure of his overwhelming presence.
A ball that wraps tightly around the base of his spine, steadily-tightening around every part of him, from his heart to his /soul/.
He can't even /think/ under the onslaught, mindlessly arching up to meet every rock of his hips, caught in a heady need to have Dazai /deeper/.
He can't even /think/ under the onslaught, mindlessly arching up to meet every rock of his hips, caught in a heady need to have Dazai /deeper/.
Lifting his chin to share a series of quick, wet, /desperate/ kisses, shuddering when Dazai lets out a whispered groan into his mouth. Tightening his fingers and legs, forcibly keeping them pressed tightly together as everything starts to /build/.
"God, /Chuuya/," Dazai mumbles,
"God, /Chuuya/," Dazai mumbles,
sliding to the side to lay a sucking-kiss to his cheek, like he can't /not/ kiss him even though Chuuya is panting too hard to keep up a /real/ kiss. The sound of his voice sends a bolt of thrilling-heat through him, a drug straight to the brain.
"I love you," he says again,
"I love you," he says again,
like he /has/ to say it, has to /keep/ saying it, can't live without the weight of his words in his mouth.
Chuuya sighs in response, murmuring it back as he raises a knee to press it into Dazai's ribs, letting him get that much deeper.
Inside him, he can faintly feel his cock
Chuuya sighs in response, murmuring it back as he raises a knee to press it into Dazai's ribs, letting him get that much deeper.
Inside him, he can faintly feel his cock
twitch from hearing it repeated back to him, throbbing. His hips jerk forward, faster than they have this entire session, burying himself in to the hilt.
There's something so /right/ about being stuffed full with Dazai. Nothing else in the world matters, nothing else can touch
There's something so /right/ about being stuffed full with Dazai. Nothing else in the world matters, nothing else can touch
him. There's only here and now and /this/.
"Fuck," he hisses out on a particularly /good/ slide, body clenching down at the feel of the head of his cock grinding against his prostate. His own erection is still trapped in the lacy underwear, adding just a /hint/ of friction burn
"Fuck," he hisses out on a particularly /good/ slide, body clenching down at the feel of the head of his cock grinding against his prostate. His own erection is still trapped in the lacy underwear, adding just a /hint/ of friction burn
that only deepens the pleasure in contrast.
Part of him is /aching/ to be touched, because he hasn't gotten any direct contact and rubbing up against Dazai's lower belly only makes him /more/ desperate.Without a hand on his cock,the pleasure only builds and builds and /builds/,
Part of him is /aching/ to be touched, because he hasn't gotten any direct contact and rubbing up against Dazai's lower belly only makes him /more/ desperate.Without a hand on his cock,the pleasure only builds and builds and /builds/,
tension steadily winding tighter until he feels like he can barely hold all of the pressure inside of him.
The other part is /glad/ Dazai's not jerking him off to the finish line because he'd probably come /way/ too soon, and he wants to /savor/ this. He's exactly where he wants
The other part is /glad/ Dazai's not jerking him off to the finish line because he'd probably come /way/ too soon, and he wants to /savor/ this. He's exactly where he wants
to be, still mostly-dressed in lace and lingerie, spread out and pinned underneath Dazai like his favorite meal, his body in flames that are stoked with every mind-bendingly good thrust inside him.
He doesn't want it to /stop/. This doesn't feel like /sex/, this feels like
He doesn't want it to /stop/. This doesn't feel like /sex/, this feels like
making /love/, taking all the emotions of the last few weeks and channeling them into motion and heat and /desire/.
"Osamu," he breathes, a prayer to an earth-struck god, his breath hitching when he feels him twitch hard inside him, impossibly growing /harder/ and hotter. "Fuck,
"Osamu," he breathes, a prayer to an earth-struck god, his breath hitching when he feels him twitch hard inside him, impossibly growing /harder/ and hotter. "Fuck,
/Osamu/, you feel /so/ good. Don't stop, /never/ stop, love you /so/ much--"
With a strangled groan, Dazai comes.
Chuuya wasn't expecting it, his legs twitching with surprise at the burst of warmth and wet inside of him. Apparently, Dazai wasn't expecting it /either/ because
With a strangled groan, Dazai comes.
Chuuya wasn't expecting it, his legs twitching with surprise at the burst of warmth and wet inside of him. Apparently, Dazai wasn't expecting it /either/ because
he drops down on one elbow and smothers a shocked gasp near his ear, his hips stuttering with every wave.
Chuuya isn't disappointed, because there's something so /viscerally/ satisfying about Dazai filling him up, even if he's not quite there yet himself--
But it doesn't
Chuuya isn't disappointed, because there's something so /viscerally/ satisfying about Dazai filling him up, even if he's not quite there yet himself--
But it doesn't
matter because even though Dazai's hips slow and his rhythm is faulty, he doesn't stop moving for even a /second/.
Then there's the excitement of feeling his cum spilling out in thick droplets, being fucked back inside him, hearing the oversensitive hitch in Dazai's breath as
Then there's the excitement of feeling his cum spilling out in thick droplets, being fucked back inside him, hearing the oversensitive hitch in Dazai's breath as
he pushes through the searing-painful pleasure, refusing to stop, rocking into him again and again and /again/.
“I won’t,” he promises mindlessly, voice hoarse, his body dropping down the rest of the way to press him completely into the mattress. The feeling of his body working,
“I won’t,” he promises mindlessly, voice hoarse, his body dropping down the rest of the way to press him completely into the mattress. The feeling of his body working,
abs flexing rhythmically, his skin wet with sweat from exertion, his breath coming out in hissed gasps as he /keeps going/, keeps fucking him as his cock struggles to harden again, coaxed into another round. He hasn’t pulled out for even a second, hips continually rocking forward
even as he’s not as /hard/ as he was before.
And Chuuya—
He’s had multiple orgasms before, and he knows, from /experience/, how sensitive his cock gets after each orgasm. So sensitive that sometimes even the /air/ feels burning on his skin, and he has to work his way back up
And Chuuya—
He’s had multiple orgasms before, and he knows, from /experience/, how sensitive his cock gets after each orgasm. So sensitive that sometimes even the /air/ feels burning on his skin, and he has to work his way back up
into being /touched/ again.
Dazai’s never had more than /one/ orgasm in a row since they got together, and he can /feel/ the strain of it. Can feel the way his thighs are trembling against the back of Chuuya’s, the way his hands tighten on his own every so often, fighting to
Dazai’s never had more than /one/ orgasm in a row since they got together, and he can /feel/ the strain of it. Can feel the way his thighs are trembling against the back of Chuuya’s, the way his hands tighten on his own every so often, fighting to
ground himself in the waves of overwhelming sensation.
And he seems so /lost/ in it, all that careful, dominating precision stripped away, leaving him raw and vulnerable and /needy/.
“Won’t /ever/,” he says again, sliding over to give Chuuya a kiss, so uncontrolled and hard
And he seems so /lost/ in it, all that careful, dominating precision stripped away, leaving him raw and vulnerable and /needy/.
“Won’t /ever/,” he says again, sliding over to give Chuuya a kiss, so uncontrolled and hard
that it’s /bruising/, causing a sting of pain that just adds to the swirling cacophony.
“Won’t /ever/ let you go,” he promises, and with the way he’s draped over him, Chuuya’s trapped erection gets a /searing/ amount of friction between their stomachs, making him pant. “Gonna
“Won’t /ever/ let you go,” he promises, and with the way he’s draped over him, Chuuya’s trapped erection gets a /searing/ amount of friction between their stomachs, making him pant. “Gonna
keep you /forever/, gonna make you /happy/, gonna make you mine, mine, /mine/.”
It’s just mindless repetition, Dazai /clearly/ more affected than he’s ever been, practically tearing up as he continues to push them both past the point of no return—
But Chuuya’s mind immediately
It’s just mindless repetition, Dazai /clearly/ more affected than he’s ever been, practically tearing up as he continues to push them both past the point of no return—
But Chuuya’s mind immediately
flashes to their /first/ time, when he was saying something along the same lines.
It was different then, and Chuuya didn’t know then what he knows now but—
It feels like they’ve come full circle. They’ve been through /so/ much, both together and individually, and somehow they
It was different then, and Chuuya didn’t know then what he knows now but—
It feels like they’ve come full circle. They’ve been through /so/ much, both together and individually, and somehow they
always manage to find their way back to each other. No matter /what/ happens, they only ever seem to grow /stronger/ together, the layers of their connection deepened by healed cracks.
The pleasure and the /emotions/ behind it have Chuuya clinging onto Dazai, arching up into his
The pleasure and the /emotions/ behind it have Chuuya clinging onto Dazai, arching up into his
every grind forward to increase the force, quickly climbing to the edge.
It’s not the most /intense/ sex they’ve had on a physical level, but it’s so much more /emotional/ than it’s ever been. Chuuya’s heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest, cradled in Dazai’s hands.
It’s not the most /intense/ sex they’ve had on a physical level, but it’s so much more /emotional/ than it’s ever been. Chuuya’s heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest, cradled in Dazai’s hands.
Every part of him carved out, offered up, showered in acceptance and want and /love/—
That, combined with the way Dazai’s teeth sink into his shoulder to stave off his second orgasm, his stomach pressing closer to give him even /more/ friction because they both refuse to let
That, combined with the way Dazai’s teeth sink into his shoulder to stave off his second orgasm, his stomach pressing closer to give him even /more/ friction because they both refuse to let
go of the grip they have on each other’s hands, is enough to send Chuuya tripping into his orgasm.
It’s /earth-quaking/. Every pulse of pleasure feels like it lasts forever, each wave melting into the next into the next into the /next/. His entire body sings with it, feeling so
It’s /earth-quaking/. Every pulse of pleasure feels like it lasts forever, each wave melting into the next into the next into the /next/. His entire body sings with it, feeling so
hot he might as well be on /fire/ from it.
And if that wasn’t good enough, he can feel Dazai succumb to the rush too, shuddering through his second orgasm. His cock twitches weakly inside him, adding another few spurts of cum to the already hot-wet mess. He can feel it starting
And if that wasn’t good enough, he can feel Dazai succumb to the rush too, shuddering through his second orgasm. His cock twitches weakly inside him, adding another few spurts of cum to the already hot-wet mess. He can feel it starting
to drip out of him, firing up a raw, primal satisfaction in him.
By the time Dazai collapses onto him, breathing heavy and trembling, he's practically purring with contentment. All his muscles are limp with satisfaction, his body practically melted into the bed. He knows there
By the time Dazai collapses onto him, breathing heavy and trembling, he's practically purring with contentment. All his muscles are limp with satisfaction, his body practically melted into the bed. He knows there
will be a vicious ache in his thighs later-- a result of the fact that Chuuya hasn't been active in the last few weeks, and he has to /stretch/ to fit Dazai in between-- and probably his back too, but for now, it's held back by an inescapable sense of satisfaction.
Dazai is
Dazai is
heavy on top of him, a treasured weight. He can feel him breathing, harsh as he starts to come down.
Somehow, their hands are /still/ entangled together, even through all of that. Chuuya squeezes his hand, tilting his head to the side to mouth affectionately at the skin of his
Somehow, their hands are /still/ entangled together, even through all of that. Chuuya squeezes his hand, tilting his head to the side to mouth affectionately at the skin of his
upper arm, tasting the salt of sweat.
For a while it's just them breathing, coming down from their highs, finding comfort and security in how closely tangled together even now.
Dazai still hasn't pulled out and Chuuya finds that oddly /pleasing/, content to just lay here and
For a while it's just them breathing, coming down from their highs, finding comfort and security in how closely tangled together even now.
Dazai still hasn't pulled out and Chuuya finds that oddly /pleasing/, content to just lay here and
enjoy being so intimately connected with him. He could cockwarm him for /hours/ and never get tired of it.
It's Dazai who breaks the silence first, clearing his throat and struggling up onto his elbows to take his weight off him. "Fuck," he rasps, inelegant and straight to the
It's Dazai who breaks the silence first, clearing his throat and struggling up onto his elbows to take his weight off him. "Fuck," he rasps, inelegant and straight to the
point.
Chuuya /laughs/ quietly in response, the silent relaxation of the moment ripening into something /sweeter/.
After another moment, Dazai manages to roll them both over to lay on his back with Chuuya sprawled on top of him.
He misses his weight already, but it /does/ give
Chuuya /laughs/ quietly in response, the silent relaxation of the moment ripening into something /sweeter/.
After another moment, Dazai manages to roll them both over to lay on his back with Chuuya sprawled on top of him.
He misses his weight already, but it /does/ give
him the chance to stretch out his hips and thighs, arching his back until he feels something pop back into place.
Dazai pulls out with the motion, and he shivers at the feeling of cum dripping down his thighs, collecting messily over them both.
"You ruined my lingerie again,"
Dazai pulls out with the motion, and he shivers at the feeling of cum dripping down his thighs, collecting messily over them both.
"You ruined my lingerie again,"
Chuuya pouts playfully, making a face at the way his underwear feels now, soaked all over. It's probably stained irreversibly now, from a combination of lube and cum.
It's a shame. He /liked/ this set too. He wanted to wear it again some day, probably with the top too.
"You
It's a shame. He /liked/ this set too. He wanted to wear it again some day, probably with the top too.
"You
knew I would," Dazai says, his voice /achingly/ fond. His hands find Chuuya's hips, fingertips coasting over his skin in a mundane show of worship. Whenever he finds a spot that makes his breath hitch in soreness, he presses in and massages it away.
That's true. /Both/ times he
That's true. /Both/ times he
wore lingerie, they were ruined by the end of the night. Not /intentionally/, but its like Dazai can't even wait long enough to get him out of it. Or that he /likes/ seeing Chuuya get all messy in his pretty clothing, likes making a mess out of him when he dressed up /for/ him.
Still, just because he was half-expecting them to get ruined, that doesn't mean he's not /disappointed/.
"I'll buy you more," Dazai offers, like Chuuya doesn't already /know/ that he'll buy him whatever he wants whenever he wants. /Especially/ if he gets to see and fuck him in
"I'll buy you more," Dazai offers, like Chuuya doesn't already /know/ that he'll buy him whatever he wants whenever he wants. /Especially/ if he gets to see and fuck him in
it.
"We're never going to have enough if you keep ruining them as soon as I get them," he teases, leaning down. He braces his elbows on either side of Dazai's head, the perfect distance to run his fingers affectionately through his hair and watch his smile form right in front
"We're never going to have enough if you keep ruining them as soon as I get them," he teases, leaning down. He braces his elbows on either side of Dazai's head, the perfect distance to run his fingers affectionately through his hair and watch his smile form right in front
of his eyes.
"I'll buy in bulk," Dazai murmurs back, lifting his chin to silently ask for a kiss, and who is Chuuya to deny him?
This kiss is just as sweet as the rest of the other ones today. Soothing and /adoring/, one that could easily be turned into something heated, but
"I'll buy in bulk," Dazai murmurs back, lifting his chin to silently ask for a kiss, and who is Chuuya to deny him?
This kiss is just as sweet as the rest of the other ones today. Soothing and /adoring/, one that could easily be turned into something heated, but
both of them are content to just bask in the glow without needing anything more.
It stirs something wonderful inside of Chuuya, something /warm/ and soft and loving. Something that he's always wanted before, a storybook ending, a fairytale happiness--
And now he has it. A bit
It stirs something wonderful inside of Chuuya, something /warm/ and soft and loving. Something that he's always wanted before, a storybook ending, a fairytale happiness--
And now he has it. A bit
unconventional, a bit unexpected, a bit /strange/ to other people--
But this is /exactly/ where Chuuya was always meant to be. This is always what he wanted. This is what he /needed/.
"I missed you," he murmurs, pulling back a fraction to whisper against his bottom lip. He
But this is /exactly/ where Chuuya was always meant to be. This is always what he wanted. This is what he /needed/.
"I missed you," he murmurs, pulling back a fraction to whisper against his bottom lip. He
doesn't know how /else/ to relate the burgeoning emotions in his chest, doesn't know how /else/ to put it into words, just--
Kissing him, over and over and over again, pressed so close and never feeling like it's /enough/. Always needing more.
"I haven't gone anywhere," he
Kissing him, over and over and over again, pressed so close and never feeling like it's /enough/. Always needing more.
"I haven't gone anywhere," he
whispers back, lifting his head to deepen the kiss. His clean hand comes up, cradling the back of his head and holding him /close/.
Chuuya knows. It's just--
After /almost/ losing him, after almost losing /everything/, after losing what he /has/ lost by accident or design,
Chuuya knows. It's just--
After /almost/ losing him, after almost losing /everything/, after losing what he /has/ lost by accident or design,
it's /hard/ to forget. It's hard to forget how easily this could all be taken away away from him even though he knows--
"I'm not going anywhere ever again." A promise sealed with another kiss, hands cradling him lovingly.
-- that Dazai is telling the /truth/.
---- +
"I'm not going anywhere ever again." A promise sealed with another kiss, hands cradling him lovingly.
-- that Dazai is telling the /truth/.
---- +
Chuuya has always been the sort of person that thinks that time goes by too /slow/. Ever since he was a child, he's never had a lot of patience. He's always wanted things to happen /right now/, and the slower paced parts of life-- like growing up, school, finding his place in
life, finding his dream career-- have always made him /frustrated/. Ever since he can remember, he's always wanted to be at the /end/ of his journey, instead of still fumbling his way through.
It's ironic that now he wants to grab onto the timer of life and force it to /halt/.
It's ironic that now he wants to grab onto the timer of life and force it to /halt/.
Every day goes by too /quick/, slipping away from his fingers before he can properly savor it. A landslide of unforgotten days, gone as quickly as they come.
By now, Dazai and Chuuya have only been officially dating for a little over four months. It feels /longer/ than that, and
By now, Dazai and Chuuya have only been officially dating for a little over four months. It feels /longer/ than that, and
even though a lot of people would categorize them as moving too fast— even Yuan seemed shocked and a little surprised when he told her they were living together— it just feels so /natural/. So easy.
Waking up next to Dazai every morning is just /normal/. Eating breakfast with
Waking up next to Dazai every morning is just /normal/. Eating breakfast with
him, watching movies with him, reading silently beside him, going out with him. Their entire lives tangled together intricately, every part of Chuuya’s routine sprinkled in with Dazai’s presence. It wasn’t fast, it was /right/.
He slowly starts to repair his relationship with
He slowly starts to repair his relationship with
his sister too. It’s not always easy, and there’s some conversations that leave him /fuming/ with the desire to throw things at her—
But mostly, he understands. If he was in the Mafia, he would probably hide it from his siblings too. Maybe not as /long/, but if it kept them safe
But mostly, he understands. If he was in the Mafia, he would probably hide it from his siblings too. Maybe not as /long/, but if it kept them safe
then he would do whatever it took to /keep/ them safe.
Obviously Kouyou’s plan /didn’t/ work, and now there’s new tension on /top/ of their existing problems because she /hates/ Dazai for some reason, but in the end…
She’s his sister, and he loves her. He understands where
Obviously Kouyou’s plan /didn’t/ work, and now there’s new tension on /top/ of their existing problems because she /hates/ Dazai for some reason, but in the end…
She’s his sister, and he loves her. He understands where
she was coming from and /why/ she did it, even though it was fucking /stupid/. And /because/ shes his sister, that means he might be the /first/ person in line to kick her ass, but they’ll always be there for each other.
They will fight and argue and hurt each other— but Chuuya
They will fight and argue and hurt each other— but Chuuya
would never give her up for /anything/.
It’s surprisingly easy to luxuriate in the sense of peace beginning to settle over the city. Nika and the Bratva have been surprisingly silent, unwilling to disturb the silent truce, because the Mafia isn’t /alone/ anymore.
Now that
It’s surprisingly easy to luxuriate in the sense of peace beginning to settle over the city. Nika and the Bratva have been surprisingly silent, unwilling to disturb the silent truce, because the Mafia isn’t /alone/ anymore.
Now that
Dazai knows that Kouyou is Chuuya’s sister, he’s unofficially become the /Mafia’s/ informant. He doesn’t work as often these days, and some days it even seems like he’s looking to /retire/, but he’s firmly aligned with the Mafia. No more selling information to the Bratva or the
other smaller gangs in Yokohama.
(Add to that that /Ranpo/ now has loyalty to someone that is /close/ to Dazai, it makes quite the power group that the Russians don’t really want to fuck with.)
Honestly, it kind of confuses Chuuya, because he thought that all gangs were locked
(Add to that that /Ranpo/ now has loyalty to someone that is /close/ to Dazai, it makes quite the power group that the Russians don’t really want to fuck with.)
Honestly, it kind of confuses Chuuya, because he thought that all gangs were locked
in this eternal, bloody struggle for power that featured lots of gunfights, kidnappings, murder, the whole city locked in a silent war.
But when he asked, Dazai said it wasn’t really /like/ that. Yes, there would always be power struggles and fights if the situation called for
But when he asked, Dazai said it wasn’t really /like/ that. Yes, there would always be power struggles and fights if the situation called for
it or if the opportunity to make a move arose.
But, generally, there’s just this odd truce where everyone could get along as long as everyone respected the boundaries. No one /wanted/ to start a war because war cost /money/, it cost /blood/, it gained public and government
But, generally, there’s just this odd truce where everyone could get along as long as everyone respected the boundaries. No one /wanted/ to start a war because war cost /money/, it cost /blood/, it gained public and government
attention.
Overall, no one wanted to fight unless they had to or it was /worth/ it. With the Bratva operating on foreign soil, it would be a difficult task to take on the Mafia /and/ the Armed Detective Agency, and so they were /waiting/ for better times to make their move.
Overall, no one wanted to fight unless they had to or it was /worth/ it. With the Bratva operating on foreign soil, it would be a difficult task to take on the Mafia /and/ the Armed Detective Agency, and so they were /waiting/ for better times to make their move.
Never /gone/, but silent, for now.
Dazai /and/ Kouyou reassured him that they’re /prepared/ now, for anything that might happen. Part of him— the frightened part that will forever be stuck six feet underground in a grave with his name on it, the part that is /still/ too
Dazai /and/ Kouyou reassured him that they’re /prepared/ now, for anything that might happen. Part of him— the frightened part that will forever be stuck six feet underground in a grave with his name on it, the part that is /still/ too
afraid of water to take a /bath/-- finds that hard to believe but--
Life goes on, you know? He can't spend his life in terror. He wants to /enjoy/ living, enjoy what he has. Crawling under the blankets to hide from the monsters might be /appealing/ sometimes but--
Chuuya is no
Life goes on, you know? He can't spend his life in terror. He wants to /enjoy/ living, enjoy what he has. Crawling under the blankets to hide from the monsters might be /appealing/ sometimes but--
Chuuya is no
coward. He will not live in fear. He will always go down /fighting/, to the bitter end.
Fighting fear, or fighting a person, it doesn't matter. It's all the same battleground to him.
And because his family-- god, it /still/ makes him giddy to think of Dazai as /family/-- is
Fighting fear, or fighting a person, it doesn't matter. It's all the same battleground to him.
And because his family-- god, it /still/ makes him giddy to think of Dazai as /family/-- is
prepared, that means he should be too.
With Gide's permission, he slowly returns to normal life. He doesn't need naps anymore, and now he can /exercise/ again, something he didn't realize he would /miss/ so much.
It starts with some early-morning jogs with the dogs. Dazai comes
With Gide's permission, he slowly returns to normal life. He doesn't need naps anymore, and now he can /exercise/ again, something he didn't realize he would /miss/ so much.
It starts with some early-morning jogs with the dogs. Dazai comes
with him the first dozen times, but then he gets /lazy/ and stops coming.
(He's lazy in the mornings now, slow to wake up and even more reluctant to let Chuuya /leave/. It's a far cry from when they /first/ met and Dazai barely slept at all.
It's cute.)
Then it's slowly
(He's lazy in the mornings now, slow to wake up and even more reluctant to let Chuuya /leave/. It's a far cry from when they /first/ met and Dazai barely slept at all.
It's cute.)
Then it's slowly
progressing into a /heavier/ routine, feeling so damn /proud/ of himself when he looks in the mirror and sees that he's starting to regain all the muscle and weight he lost over the past three months.
Then it's starting to spar with Oda, brushing up on his Judo skills and
Then it's starting to spar with Oda, brushing up on his Judo skills and
adding a few more 'street' skills. He's still an /excellent/ Judo martial artist, but he hasn't gotten in /that/ many fights, let alone any with Yakuza members, so he still needs some improvements./Real/ fights don't have any rules, and Oda shows him /quickly/ that Yakuza are not
afraid to fight dirty and /mean/.
He's an /excellent/ student though, and it's not long before Oda and him are evenly matched, and he starts to /win/.
Dazai continually pouts that he's not sparring with /him/, but the /last/ time they sparred, Chuuya managed to flip him over
He's an /excellent/ student though, and it's not long before Oda and him are evenly matched, and he starts to /win/.
Dazai continually pouts that he's not sparring with /him/, but the /last/ time they sparred, Chuuya managed to flip him over
his hip before pinning him on his back. That /quickly/ devolved into a heated, desperate round of impromptu sex outside in the backyard because 'chibi looked so /good/ when he pinned me and looked like he was going to hurt me, how could I resist?', so--
No sparring rounds with
No sparring rounds with
Dazai, no matter /how/ much he pouts, unless Chuuya is /looking/ to get fucked.
All in all, it's just...perfect. His life, unfolding /exactly/ the way it's supposed to, getting better with each day. Visible progress in the things he's working on, and a support system that loves
All in all, it's just...perfect. His life, unfolding /exactly/ the way it's supposed to, getting better with each day. Visible progress in the things he's working on, and a support system that loves
and encourages him.
It's not /exactly/ what he dreamed his life would be, but its everything he could've ever wanted and more.
There's only one, teensy, /small/ problem:
His birthday is soon--less than a week-- and his family has a /tradition/ of having a birthday dinner the
It's not /exactly/ what he dreamed his life would be, but its everything he could've ever wanted and more.
There's only one, teensy, /small/ problem:
His birthday is soon--less than a week-- and his family has a /tradition/ of having a birthday dinner the
night before, so they can all celebrate properly without taking time out of Chuuya's actual birthday.
Now,this is the /first/ birthday that he's had where he wasn't living at home, which means he could /probably/ beg off or get away with offering a Facetime date instead.
But...
Now,this is the /first/ birthday that he's had where he wasn't living at home, which means he could /probably/ beg off or get away with offering a Facetime date instead.
But...
He /does/ want to go home. Not forever, of course, but he wants to see his dad again. It's been almost /eight/ months since he last saw him or Kyouka in person. He misses them.
Kouyou already cleared her schedule so she could come, and she's probably going to bring Oda as well.
Kouyou already cleared her schedule so she could come, and she's probably going to bring Oda as well.
None of that is the problem.
The /problem/ is that, when he brings up the idea of introducing him to his family, Dazai looks /terrified/. The most /frightened/ Chuuya has /ever/ seen him, which would be concerning if it wasn't so /funny/.
He literally saw this man face down a
The /problem/ is that, when he brings up the idea of introducing him to his family, Dazai looks /terrified/. The most /frightened/ Chuuya has /ever/ seen him, which would be concerning if it wasn't so /funny/.
He literally saw this man face down a
Russian gang boss with a straight face, but the mere /mention/ of his father has him pale-faced and wide-eyed.
It's /hilarious/. Big, /bad/ Dazai, famed criminal mastermind, bloody and dangerous, petrified of a /tiny/ little man who likes wine too much for his own good.
"Do you
It's /hilarious/. Big, /bad/ Dazai, famed criminal mastermind, bloody and dangerous, petrified of a /tiny/ little man who likes wine too much for his own good.
"Do you
/not/ want to meet my family?" Chuuya asks, hands planted on his hips and fixing Dazai with a /look/.
Admittedly, he /is/ having a little too much fun tormenting Dazai.
"No! I mean, of /course/ I do," Dazai says empathetically, "It's just..."
Whatever he says next is mumbled
Admittedly, he /is/ having a little too much fun tormenting Dazai.
"No! I mean, of /course/ I do," Dazai says empathetically, "It's just..."
Whatever he says next is mumbled
so low that Chuuya can't even hear it, Dazai's chin tucked close to his chest.
He arches an eyebrow, leaning closer. "What? I can't hear you."
Dazai looks briefly frustrated and then /embarrassed/ and then--
"What if he doesn't like me?"
Aw, he's /nervous/. That's adorable.
He arches an eyebrow, leaning closer. "What? I can't hear you."
Dazai looks briefly frustrated and then /embarrassed/ and then--
"What if he doesn't like me?"
Aw, he's /nervous/. That's adorable.
Chuuya /could/ reassure him that his father will /like/ him, that it's going to be /okay/ and he has nothing to be nervous about--
But he's having too much fun watching Dazai /sweat/.
"Oh, he's /definitely/ not going to like you," he says easily, raising a hand to count off his
But he's having too much fun watching Dazai /sweat/.
"Oh, he's /definitely/ not going to like you," he says easily, raising a hand to count off his
reasoning on his fingers, "You are /far/ too old for me, you're a /criminal/, you don't have a /job/, you already have a kid, /and/ you stole me from someone else. That's /five/ strikes against you. It's not looking good."
Dazai's lip wobbles and he looks like he might /cry/.
Dazai's lip wobbles and he looks like he might /cry/.
"The age thing is /dirty/, you know," he sniffs, crossing his arms. "I still haven't gotten over you calling me a /grandpa/ when you heard about the Demon Prodigy. My ego will never recover."
"/Sweetheart," Chuuya says, reaching over to pat his cheek a /little/ patronizingly,
"/Sweetheart," Chuuya says, reaching over to pat his cheek a /little/ patronizingly,
"That's not even the worst thing I said about you, old man."
Dazai /gasps/, giving him a look of such pure, abject /shock/ and horror that it makes Chuuya giggle.
"But really," he carries on, stepping closer to stare up at him, letting his touch fade into reassurance, "It
Dazai /gasps/, giving him a look of such pure, abject /shock/ and horror that it makes Chuuya giggle.
"But really," he carries on, stepping closer to stare up at him, letting his touch fade into reassurance, "It
doesn't matter if he likes you or not, because I /love/ you, and that's what really matters, okay?"
Dazai leans his cheek into his palm, his skin soft and warm. His eyes, as he looks down, are bottomless pits of warm affection, practically glowing in the light of the kitchen.
Dazai leans his cheek into his palm, his skin soft and warm. His eyes, as he looks down, are bottomless pits of warm affection, practically glowing in the light of the kitchen.
There's a moment of just soft reassurance and warm affection--
"Take back the old man comment," Dazai says suddenly, uncrossing his arms to drape them over Chuuya's shoulders and bringing him even closer.
He blinks. "What?"
"Take it back or I'm not going."
Pinching his side,
"Take back the old man comment," Dazai says suddenly, uncrossing his arms to drape them over Chuuya's shoulders and bringing him even closer.
He blinks. "What?"
"Take it back or I'm not going."
Pinching his side,
Chuuya scoffs at him. "I'm not taking it back. You /have/ to go. It's my birthday."
"Not /yet/," Dazai points out, which is /very/ true, because there is still /six/ days until his birthday, "Which means you're not the boss of me /yet/."
/That's/ a lie and they both know it.
"Not /yet/," Dazai points out, which is /very/ true, because there is still /six/ days until his birthday, "Which means you're not the boss of me /yet/."
/That's/ a lie and they both know it.
Dazai would give Chuuya /everything/ he ever wanted. He's got him wrapped around his little finger,and all he has to do is /pout/ to get his way.
Cute that he's trying to play it off though. Chuuya sticks his tongue out at him, playful. "Fine. I'll take it back. You're not old,"
Cute that he's trying to play it off though. Chuuya sticks his tongue out at him, playful. "Fine. I'll take it back. You're not old,"
he says and /just/ when Dazai is looking hopeful and preening with pride at having /won/ this playful argument--
"You just have /seasoning/."
Dazai gapes at him. "What does /that/ mean?"
Chuuya adopts a /mournful/ look. "The grey hair is starting to come in. I can see your
"You just have /seasoning/."
Dazai gapes at him. "What does /that/ mean?"
Chuuya adopts a /mournful/ look. "The grey hair is starting to come in. I can see your
youth fading away as we speak. It won't be long before I have to start calling retirement homes."
Dazai /stares/ at him, expression disbelieving. "You're /lying/. I don't have gray hair."
He is absolutely lying. He just happened to catch Dazai checking out his hair a week ago
Dazai /stares/ at him, expression disbelieving. "You're /lying/. I don't have gray hair."
He is absolutely lying. He just happened to catch Dazai checking out his hair a week ago
in the mirror, and filed the instance away for blackmail material. Not that he actually /minds/ if Dazai gets a few gray hairs-- he's starting to think the silver fox aesthetic is pretty /sexy/, actually-- but it's /funny/ to watch him panic over it.
"Of course not, mackerel,"
"Of course not, mackerel,"
he says sweetly, smiling up at him.
Dazai doesn't look like he believes him for a /second/, one of his hands coming up to touch his temple self-consciously. If there was a mirror nearby,he'd probably be checking himself out in it. "Don't even /start/ on the retirement home idea.
Dazai doesn't look like he believes him for a /second/, one of his hands coming up to touch his temple self-consciously. If there was a mirror nearby,he'd probably be checking himself out in it. "Don't even /start/ on the retirement home idea.
I'm only /thirty-four/," he grumbles.
And for all that he sounds /grumpy/, he hasn't pushed Chuuya away by even a centimeter. In fact, he's probably shuffled closer, draping his weight over his shoulders.
"Practically middle-aged," Chuuya sighs, patting his cheek again. "You'll
And for all that he sounds /grumpy/, he hasn't pushed Chuuya away by even a centimeter. In fact, he's probably shuffled closer, draping his weight over his shoulders.
"Practically middle-aged," Chuuya sighs, patting his cheek again. "You'll
be a mummy soon enough. You've already got the bandages."
Well--
/Used/ to have the bandages. He doesn't wear them at home anymore, all his scars and ink and stories on display. It's a display of /trust/ that Chuuya treasures.
He still wears the bandages whenever they go out,
Well--
/Used/ to have the bandages. He doesn't wear them at home anymore, all his scars and ink and stories on display. It's a display of /trust/ that Chuuya treasures.
He still wears the bandages whenever they go out,
but their /home/ is safe for him.
Dazai looks torn on what to say, his expression flickering, before eventually settling on a fondly sighed, "You're mean."
Chuuya beams up at him, slinging his arms around his neck. "/So/ mean," he agrees empathetically, tugging him down for a
Dazai looks torn on what to say, his expression flickering, before eventually settling on a fondly sighed, "You're mean."
Chuuya beams up at him, slinging his arms around his neck. "/So/ mean," he agrees empathetically, tugging him down for a
kiss.
Dazai gives in easily, both of his hands finding his back and supporting his weight as he bends him backwards slightly, just enough to make him hover on the /edge/ of falling. His kiss is sweet, freely offered and overflowing with affection.
"What am I going to do with
Dazai gives in easily, both of his hands finding his back and supporting his weight as he bends him backwards slightly, just enough to make him hover on the /edge/ of falling. His kiss is sweet, freely offered and overflowing with affection.
"What am I going to do with
you?" He murmurs into his mouth.
"You're going to meet my family," Chuuya declares with a final kiss, pulling back to smile in Dazai's eyes, and well--
Chuuya /always/ gets what he wants.
----- +
Dazai is...nervous. He won't /admit/ that to anyone, and /especially/ not to
"You're going to meet my family," Chuuya declares with a final kiss, pulling back to smile in Dazai's eyes, and well--
Chuuya /always/ gets what he wants.
----- +
Dazai is...nervous. He won't /admit/ that to anyone, and /especially/ not to
the little /menace/ whom he lovingly calls his boyfriend--because he would /never/ let it go, just like he's /continually/ pointed out gray hairs he apparently found in Dazai's hair and then /refused/ to point them out-- but he is.
Just a little bit.
The thing is, he's never
Just a little bit.
The thing is, he's never
/met/ someone's parents before. All of his mafia friends are various shades of runaway's, orphans and neglected, so it's not like he was having regular sleepovers as a teenager. He avoided Sasaki's parents for a /long/ while, because he wasn't her friend /or/ her boyfriend, and
he /absolutely/ was not interested in meeting his fuck-buddy's parents back then.
Of course, he did eventually have to meet them when Sasaki got pregnant with Shuuji, but that wasn't a /meeting/ so much as it was... a three-hour /lecture/.
Needless to say, he has a /bad/ track
Of course, he did eventually have to meet them when Sasaki got pregnant with Shuuji, but that wasn't a /meeting/ so much as it was... a three-hour /lecture/.
Needless to say, he has a /bad/ track
record and he's /pretty sure/ that it's not going to get better this time because he /really/ doesn't think he's /family friendly/.
Which is nerve-wracking, because he /knows/ how much Chuuya loves his family, even with all the issues, and Dazai /has/ to make a good impression.
Which is nerve-wracking, because he /knows/ how much Chuuya loves his family, even with all the issues, and Dazai /has/ to make a good impression.
He /wants/ the chibi's family to like him-- because Chuuya is /his/ family now, which makes this /his/ family as well-- and it's putting a lot of /pressure/ on him.
Not to /mention/ that he's going to be locked in a house with Chuuya, his father, and /both/ of his sisters for
Not to /mention/ that he's going to be locked in a house with Chuuya, his father, and /both/ of his sisters for
/two/ days /and/ a night. He's going to be eaten /alive/. They're gonna gang up on him and /hate/ him--
"Are you ready?"
No. "Yes."
Chuuya is the first one out of the car, looking so familiar with his surroundings and completely at ease that Dazai almost /envies/ him. He's
"Are you ready?"
No. "Yes."
Chuuya is the first one out of the car, looking so familiar with his surroundings and completely at ease that Dazai almost /envies/ him. He's
been to the more residential cities in Japan before, and he's /looked/ at all the houses and people that live here--
But he's never felt a part of it.
Chuuya's childhood home is a respectable building. Not as big as Dazai's house, but the smaller size of it lends it a /cozy/
But he's never felt a part of it.
Chuuya's childhood home is a respectable building. Not as big as Dazai's house, but the smaller size of it lends it a /cozy/
feeling. Homey. There's no yard to speak of, and the houses on either side are stacked up /very/ closely, almost identical to each other. The only defining features are the decorations on the front doorstep, heavily featuring flowers and nature.
Chuuya waits for him to come
Chuuya waits for him to come
around the car, linking his arm through his. He smiles up at him, bumping his temple against his arm in a silent show of support and reassurance.
Dazai clutches the bottle of wine he brought-- Chuuya said it was his fathers favorite brands and that he'd love the gift -- and
Dazai clutches the bottle of wine he brought-- Chuuya said it was his fathers favorite brands and that he'd love the gift -- and
hopes he doesn't /drop/ it with his clammy palms as they march up to the front door.
It feels like he's going to /war/.
Chuuya reaches out to knock on the door without hesitation. "Smile, Osamu. You look like you're going to faint."
Dazai forces a smile on his face, too big.
It feels like he's going to /war/.
Chuuya reaches out to knock on the door without hesitation. "Smile, Osamu. You look like you're going to faint."
Dazai forces a smile on his face, too big.
"Not like that, you look uncomfortable."
He /is/ uncomfortable. He dims the smile down.
"Now it just looks like you're /faking/--"
The door opens.
In the entrance is a man with long, dark hair pulled away from his face with an elegant braid. He has a big, welcoming smile on
He /is/ uncomfortable. He dims the smile down.
"Now it just looks like you're /faking/--"
The door opens.
In the entrance is a man with long, dark hair pulled away from his face with an elegant braid. He has a big, welcoming smile on
his face, and he /seems/ like a homey, family man with his cashmere sweater with a little plaid design on it--
"Chuuya!" He says enthusiastically, his face softening. He looks /so/ happy to see him--
But it changes to /confusion/ when he takes in Dazai by his side, a familiar
"Chuuya!" He says enthusiastically, his face softening. He looks /so/ happy to see him--
But it changes to /confusion/ when he takes in Dazai by his side, a familiar
pair of blue eyes taking him in from head to toe.
Dazai dressed /nicely/ for the occasion, slacks and a /sleek/ button down, as well as covering up his tattoos with a thick layer of foundation-- because he doesn't want to explain the bandages-- and even styled his /hair/. Still,
Dazai dressed /nicely/ for the occasion, slacks and a /sleek/ button down, as well as covering up his tattoos with a thick layer of foundation-- because he doesn't want to explain the bandages-- and even styled his /hair/. Still,
he can't help feeling /judged/.
He opens his mouth to introduce himself--
"Chuuya, who is this?" Rimbaud-- Dazai asked what his name was /before/ so he wouldn't look bad-- asks, looking back over at his son with a confused look.
Oh, they are /not/ off to a great start.
"My
He opens his mouth to introduce himself--
"Chuuya, who is this?" Rimbaud-- Dazai asked what his name was /before/ so he wouldn't look bad-- asks, looking back over at his son with a confused look.
Oh, they are /not/ off to a great start.
"My
boyfriend?" Chuuya says, giving him an /equally/ confused look look. "I told you he was coming? You said it was fine."
Rimbaud looks at him. Looks at Dazai. Back to Chuuya. "That is a /grown man/?"
What is with this family and making him feel /ancient/? It's not like he's
Rimbaud looks at him. Looks at Dazai. Back to Chuuya. "That is a /grown man/?"
What is with this family and making him feel /ancient/? It's not like he's
/decrepit/, but he's starting to fucking /feel like it/.
His smile stays in place out of sheer willpower.
Chuuya shoots his dad a /look/. "Obviously? What did you expect?Of course he's an adult?"
"No, no, I just expected someone..." Rimbaud /obviously thinks about it, and it's
His smile stays in place out of sheer willpower.
Chuuya shoots his dad a /look/. "Obviously? What did you expect?Of course he's an adult?"
"No, no, I just expected someone..." Rimbaud /obviously thinks about it, and it's
/clear/ that he settles on something different to say because of how hard Chuuya is staring at him, "..Different."
Oh, just you /wait/, Dazai thinks to himself half-hysterically, he doesn't even /know/ half of it yet. Just wait until he hears about his /background/. Or about
Oh, just you /wait/, Dazai thinks to himself half-hysterically, he doesn't even /know/ half of it yet. Just wait until he hears about his /background/. Or about
his /son/.
"Hello," he butts in before they can start gossiping about how old he is or something like that, "I'm Dazai, it's nice to meet you."
He even offers up his /hand/ to shake, because Chuuya told him Rimbaud thinks western culture is /fascinating/, grimly keeping his
"Hello," he butts in before they can start gossiping about how old he is or something like that, "I'm Dazai, it's nice to meet you."
He even offers up his /hand/ to shake, because Chuuya told him Rimbaud thinks western culture is /fascinating/, grimly keeping his
smile in place.
Rimbaud clears his expression, keeping his face and voice carefully neutral as he shakes his hand. "Hello, Dazai. I'm Rimbaud, Chuuya's /father/."-- he says that like Dazai is supposed to be /intimidated/ by him, which doesn't work in the way he /thinks/-- "Come
Rimbaud clears his expression, keeping his face and voice carefully neutral as he shakes his hand. "Hello, Dazai. I'm Rimbaud, Chuuya's /father/."-- he says that like Dazai is supposed to be /intimidated/ by him, which doesn't work in the way he /thinks/-- "Come
on in, you're the last ones to arrive."
Oh, /great/. Dazai's just getting thrown /straight/ into the fire, no waiting for the heat to build or /anything/.
Chuuya practically pulls him in by his arm, totally brushing by that /awkward/ introduction without a single care.
It's a
Oh, /great/. Dazai's just getting thrown /straight/ into the fire, no waiting for the heat to build or /anything/.
Chuuya practically pulls him in by his arm, totally brushing by that /awkward/ introduction without a single care.
It's a
smaller house, so the living room already seems packed full with three people standing in it chatting.
Chuuya brightens when he sees them. "Kyouka!" He calls, an excited grin on his face as he rushes over.
Dazai's /happy/ for him, he is. He knows he hasn't seen his sister for
Chuuya brightens when he sees them. "Kyouka!" He calls, an excited grin on his face as he rushes over.
Dazai's /happy/ for him, he is. He knows he hasn't seen his sister for
a few months and he knows he missed her--
But did he /really/ have to leave Dazai floundering awkwardly in the space between the hallway and the living room, wondering what he should /do/? He's not even going to /introduce/ them?
Rimbaud's disappeared off into what looks to be
But did he /really/ have to leave Dazai floundering awkwardly in the space between the hallway and the living room, wondering what he should /do/? He's not even going to /introduce/ them?
Rimbaud's disappeared off into what looks to be
the kitchen with a wave at his children.
Dazai is still clutching the bottle of wine in his hand, and he’s pretty sure it needs to breathe before they can drink it, so he should /probably/ go drop it off in the kitchen…
On the other hand, he can see Oda making small talk with
Dazai is still clutching the bottle of wine in his hand, and he’s pretty sure it needs to breathe before they can drink it, so he should /probably/ go drop it off in the kitchen…
On the other hand, he can see Oda making small talk with
Kouyou in the living room, looking /so/ at ease and comfortable that Dazai almost wants to /hit/ him for daring to have a /good/ relationship with the family when /he/ feels like he’s on the ropes already.
But—
His eyes catch on Chuuya, who’s squeezing his dark-haired sister
But—
His eyes catch on Chuuya, who’s squeezing his dark-haired sister
in a /giant/ hug. She’s squealing in protest, kicking her feet in a fake attempt to escape and she’s /laughing/, and /he’s/ laughing.
Dazai has always been prone to cowardice. If he /can/ avoid something he doesn’t want to do, if he can outthink it and out-strategize it, then
Dazai has always been prone to cowardice. If he /can/ avoid something he doesn’t want to do, if he can outthink it and out-strategize it, then
he absolutely will. If he doesn’t /want/ to do something, he will go out of his way for /hours/ just to think up ways to avoid it.
But for /Chuuya/, he’ll be brave. At least a little bit. Even if his father really /isn’t/ the terrifying monster his nervous stomach wants to
But for /Chuuya/, he’ll be brave. At least a little bit. Even if his father really /isn’t/ the terrifying monster his nervous stomach wants to
/believe/ he is.
He’s just a /guy/. Just a suburban /dad/ with a /mini-van/.
Dazai has /fucked/ scarier people than that. This is /nothing/. He’s going to walk in there, make /smooth/ conversation, /impress him/—
When he walks into the kitchen, Rimbaud is viciously chopping
He’s just a /guy/. Just a suburban /dad/ with a /mini-van/.
Dazai has /fucked/ scarier people than that. This is /nothing/. He’s going to walk in there, make /smooth/ conversation, /impress him/—
When he walks into the kitchen, Rimbaud is viciously chopping
some vegetables for a salad— they’re having some sort of pasta, he thinks, french cuisine to go with the /four/ wine bottles lined up on the counter— which is at /odds/ with the sunflower apron covering his chest.
His eyes snap up to meet him and Dazai almost /drops/ the wine.
His eyes snap up to meet him and Dazai almost /drops/ the wine.
“Uh,” he starts with, /incredibly/ elegant, he’s not sure why Rimbaud isn’t /fawning/ over him, “I brought wine. For dinner. For you. To drink. And Chuuya— for his birthday, of course,” —/not/ because he’s encouraging underage drinking, no, not at all, he would /never/, “So—“
He holds up the wine bottle like he needs to /prove/ that he has it, like he would lie about something so stupid as /that/. His smile feels painfully thin.
Setting the knife down—Dazai noticed he’s not /that/ skilled with a knife, but he doesn’t need to be, he just needs to be
Setting the knife down—Dazai noticed he’s not /that/ skilled with a knife, but he doesn’t need to be, he just needs to be
/passionate/ and have /motive/ to hurt Dazai, which he /does/— Rimbaud brushes off his fingers on his apron. He squints at the bottle, expression suspicion and ever-so-slightly judgemental. “I don’t have my glasses— bring it here. Let me see it.”
He needs /glasses/. Why is
He needs /glasses/. Why is
he terrified of a man that needs to wear /glasses/?
(He refuses to admit that /he’s/ started to need reading glasses lately, because that has /nothing/ to do with his age.)
At least he doesn’t trip on his way over, offering the bottle up easily.
Rimbaud takes it in hand,
(He refuses to admit that /he’s/ started to need reading glasses lately, because that has /nothing/ to do with his age.)
At least he doesn’t trip on his way over, offering the bottle up easily.
Rimbaud takes it in hand,
holding it up to the light and squinting at the label. His lips purse, his expression carefully neutral.
Dazai feels like his /entire/ opinion on him is hinging on how /much/ he likes the wine he brought. Nerves buzz through him as he waits for the verdict, because he doesn’t
Dazai feels like his /entire/ opinion on him is hinging on how /much/ he likes the wine he brought. Nerves buzz through him as he waits for the verdict, because he doesn’t
/know/ anything about wine. Chuuya told him what to buy and he trusts him but—
What if Rimbaud’s tastes had changed in the last few months? What if he asks him /questions/? What if he wants to talk about wine and Dazai looks like an idiot even /more/?
Rimbaud /sighs/.
Oh no.
What if Rimbaud’s tastes had changed in the last few months? What if he asks him /questions/? What if he wants to talk about wine and Dazai looks like an idiot even /more/?
Rimbaud /sighs/.
Oh no.
The pursed lips fade away and he actually offers Dazai a /smile/, lowering the wine and adding it to the line of bottles already on the counter. “This is lovely, thank you. It’s one of my favorite wines.”
Oh, /good/. He likes it. Everything is going /perfectly/.
Dazai’s knees
Oh, /good/. He likes it. Everything is going /perfectly/.
Dazai’s knees
feel a little weak. “You’re welcome,” he says warmly, “Chuuya helped me pick it out. I wanted to bring a gift for you.”
Now that this conversation went /okay/, he’s /fully/ planning on ducking out and going to introduce himself to the rest of the family because at least he’ll
Now that this conversation went /okay/, he’s /fully/ planning on ducking out and going to introduce himself to the rest of the family because at least he’ll
have /Oda/ there, and Chuuya, at least /some/ sort of support he can hide behind—
“Oh, so you /do/ have manners,” Rimbaud says, and even though his /words/ are biting, his tone is /friendly/, like it’s a joke.
But /is it/ a joke?
Dazai freezes in place, unsure what he’s
“Oh, so you /do/ have manners,” Rimbaud says, and even though his /words/ are biting, his tone is /friendly/, like it’s a joke.
But /is it/ a joke?
Dazai freezes in place, unsure what he’s
supposed to /say/ to that,unsure what he /means/.
“After all,” Rimbaud continues lightheartedly,pulling out a corkscrew and smoothly opening the bottle Dazai had brought. There’s a large empty glass vase-looking thing nearby that he pours the entire bottle in the let it breathe.
“After all,” Rimbaud continues lightheartedly,pulling out a corkscrew and smoothly opening the bottle Dazai had brought. There’s a large empty glass vase-looking thing nearby that he pours the entire bottle in the let it breathe.
“A man would /introduce himself/ to the parents before moving in with their child. That’s the polite thing to do.”
Dazai is torn between wanting to /bite back/ that Chuuya is a grown man, and /neither/ of them need to get Rimbaud’s permission to do /anything/—
And just /really/
Dazai is torn between wanting to /bite back/ that Chuuya is a grown man, and /neither/ of them need to get Rimbaud’s permission to do /anything/—
And just /really/
wanting him to like Dazai. This is his boyfriends /family/, this is someone /important/ to Chuuya.
It’s worth swallowing his pride, even if it tastes sour.
“Yes, well,” he mutters, dipping his head in silent apology. “We talked on the phone and it did not occur to me. The
It’s worth swallowing his pride, even if it tastes sour.
“Yes, well,” he mutters, dipping his head in silent apology. “We talked on the phone and it did not occur to me. The
relationship moved quickly.”
Rimbaud pounces on that /immediately/, smoothly transferring the salad he was making into a larger bowl. “Ah, yes. How long have you two been dating?”
“Officially, almost four months,” Dazai answers, doing some quick mental math. “We were seeing
Rimbaud pounces on that /immediately/, smoothly transferring the salad he was making into a larger bowl. “Ah, yes. How long have you two been dating?”
“Officially, almost four months,” Dazai answers, doing some quick mental math. “We were seeing
each other for a few months before that though.”
Rimbaud’s mouth twists slightly. “That would be… right around when he started college, right?”
Technically about two months in but close enough that Dazai nods cautiously.
Honestly, he’s /expecting/ an argument about that.
Rimbaud’s mouth twists slightly. “That would be… right around when he started college, right?”
Technically about two months in but close enough that Dazai nods cautiously.
Honestly, he’s /expecting/ an argument about that.
Because, from an outside perspective and from a /parental/ perspective, he can understand why that looks bad. Why it’s /suspicious/ that a newly independent college kid almost instantly found a boyfriend that is obviously older than him.
He doesn’t blame Rimbaud for being
He doesn’t blame Rimbaud for being
suspicious. Hell, if he had more parental instincts and /Shuuji/ brought home an older man only a few months into college, he’d probably throw a fit too.
He understands, but he doesn’t have to /like/ it.
Thankfully, Rimbaud doesn’t say anything to that specifically, choosing
He understands, but he doesn’t have to /like/ it.
Thankfully, Rimbaud doesn’t say anything to that specifically, choosing
to let that go with a thin smile. Instead, he starts in with a /different/ line of questioning. “Don’t you think you two are moving a bit /quickly/? Four months is not a long time, and I understand that his medical scare might have frightened you both,but living together already?
I mean, how /well/ do you really know each other? Living together is a big commitment."
Dazai has no idea what 'normal' relationships look like, but he does know this--
"It might seem fast to you, but it was a very natural progression of things. It felt right in the moment and
Dazai has no idea what 'normal' relationships look like, but he does know this--
"It might seem fast to you, but it was a very natural progression of things. It felt right in the moment and
it feels right now. If something changes, then I'm happy to discuss and accommodate him, but for now, we're happy," Dazai responds, shrugging with one shoulder and lifting his chin to give Rimbaud a steady glance. "And you're right-- maybe I don't know him as well as I should,
but I will spend the rest of my life getting to know him, and I will enjoy every moment of it."
Evidently he said /something/ right, because instead of coming up with /another/ question or squinting at him suspiciously, Rimbaud's gaze actually /softens/. He looks at him for a
Evidently he said /something/ right, because instead of coming up with /another/ question or squinting at him suspiciously, Rimbaud's gaze actually /softens/. He looks at him for a
long moment, quietly assessing.
Like he's actually /looking/ at Dazai instead of through him. Trying to get to /know/ him instead of just finding pieces of him that can be viewed as wrong.
Before he can say anything else, there's a call from the living room. "Dazai!"
That's
Like he's actually /looking/ at Dazai instead of through him. Trying to get to /know/ him instead of just finding pieces of him that can be viewed as wrong.
Before he can say anything else, there's a call from the living room. "Dazai!"
That's
Chuuya and Dazai /eagerly/ takes his cue to escape--
"Wait," Rimbaud stops him in his tracks, holding up a hand. "Take this with you."
In a series of smooth movements, Rimbaud procures a wine glass out of somewhere and fills it a quarter-full with the wine he poured into the
"Wait," Rimbaud stops him in his tracks, holding up a hand. "Take this with you."
In a series of smooth movements, Rimbaud procures a wine glass out of somewhere and fills it a quarter-full with the wine he poured into the
aerator. He offers it to Dazai with an expression that is just a little /warmer/ than the one before their conversation.
Dazai takes the wineglass, careful not to spill a drop as he turns on his heel and--
He's a man. He can admit it. He /flees/ into the living room.
Chuuya
Dazai takes the wineglass, careful not to spill a drop as he turns on his heel and--
He's a man. He can admit it. He /flees/ into the living room.
Chuuya
looks over his shoulder at him, eyes practically /sparkling/ with happiness, and Dazai is drawn to him like a moth to the flame.
He comes up behind him, pressing his front to his back. He drapes one arm over his shoulder and brings the other hand around to the front to offer up
He comes up behind him, pressing his front to his back. He drapes one arm over his shoulder and brings the other hand around to the front to offer up
the wine. Chuuya takes it with a grateful hum, pressing back against him as he takes a sip.
Dazai leans down, nudging the side of Chuuya's head with his cheek. "I wanna go home," he complains quietly in his ear. "Your dad is mean to me."
Chuuya pats his arm patronizingly and
Dazai leans down, nudging the side of Chuuya's head with his cheek. "I wanna go home," he complains quietly in his ear. "Your dad is mean to me."
Chuuya pats his arm patronizingly and
ignores him completely. "Dazai, this is Kyouka," he says instead, gesturing to his dark-haired sister.
Dazai offers her a welcoming smile, tipping his head in a greeting bow because he refuses to let Chuuya go.
She clearly takes after their father, with long black hair and a
Dazai offers her a welcoming smile, tipping his head in a greeting bow because he refuses to let Chuuya go.
She clearly takes after their father, with long black hair and a
slightly-darker pair of blue eyes. She's probably the most /interestingly/ dressed out of all of them. Her shirt is a black tee with a bunny face on the front, and she has striped black-and-white /suspenders/ that connect to her black skirt. She took her shoes off when she came
in, just like everyone else, but he's pretty sure the /giant/ knee-high platform boots adorned with buckles and zippers are probably hers.
She even has little pink bunny clips in her hair. It's /cute/, but eccentric, and she certainly doesn't look her twenty-two years.
"You
She even has little pink bunny clips in her hair. It's /cute/, but eccentric, and she certainly doesn't look her twenty-two years.
"You
already know Kouyou, and Oda," Chuuya continues, nodding at his sister and her boyfriend-slash-bodyguard.
Kouyou is /impeccably/ dressed in a modest red dress that compliments the fall of her long red hair. She even has cutting red eyeliner on, and a big pair of dragon earrings
Kouyou is /impeccably/ dressed in a modest red dress that compliments the fall of her long red hair. She even has cutting red eyeliner on, and a big pair of dragon earrings
dangling from her ears.
She looks like a Mafia boss on vacation, sleek and elegant and sensual and /powerful/.
She offers him a strained smile over the rim of her wineglass, nodding at him. Their relationship has been /weird/ lately. They've always been rather /rude/ to each
She looks like a Mafia boss on vacation, sleek and elegant and sensual and /powerful/.
She offers him a strained smile over the rim of her wineglass, nodding at him. Their relationship has been /weird/ lately. They've always been rather /rude/ to each
other, and they /never/ got along.
They /still/ don't get along, and he's pretty sure that she's actively trying to convince Chuuya to leave him, but she's acting /cordial/ to his face now. Not /friendly/, per se, but /civil/.
Oda, on the other hand, is her counterpart in all
They /still/ don't get along, and he's pretty sure that she's actively trying to convince Chuuya to leave him, but she's acting /cordial/ to his face now. Not /friendly/, per se, but /civil/.
Oda, on the other hand, is her counterpart in all
black. He looks as comfortable as can be, sipping idly on his own wine and not at /all/ looking nervous.
Which isn't /fair/, because not only is Oda only a /year/ younger than him,he's /actively/ in the Mafia, /and/ he has a polyamorous relationship with /two/ women--one of them
Which isn't /fair/, because not only is Oda only a /year/ younger than him,he's /actively/ in the Mafia, /and/ he has a polyamorous relationship with /two/ women--one of them
being Rimbaud's daughter--and he's /pretty sure/ they're /swingers/.
Really, Dazai is /normal/ in comparison, so why does /he/ have to feel like he's being targeted by Rimbaud? Why is /he/ the nervous one?
"How'd you get past the dad?" He mutters crossly, wishing he had his own
Really, Dazai is /normal/ in comparison, so why does /he/ have to feel like he's being targeted by Rimbaud? Why is /he/ the nervous one?
"How'd you get past the dad?" He mutters crossly, wishing he had his own
cup of whiskey to calm his nerves. "He's looking at me like I'm a walking /corpse/."
Oda flashes him a smile. "My youthful good looks and witty charm."
/Asshole./ He's /enjoying/ this.
Chuuya pats his arm again. "You're doing fine," he tells Dazai. "He hasn't threatened to sue
Oda flashes him a smile. "My youthful good looks and witty charm."
/Asshole./ He's /enjoying/ this.
Chuuya pats his arm again. "You're doing fine," he tells Dazai. "He hasn't threatened to sue
you yet. That's practically ringing endorsement."
"/Sue me/? For /what/?"
Kyouka shrugs. "Doesn't matter. It's just a threat. He's just...like that.Overprotective."
No offense, but that sounds /annoying/ and /ridiculous/?
"I've heard a lot about you," Kyouka continues, eyeing
"/Sue me/? For /what/?"
Kyouka shrugs. "Doesn't matter. It's just a threat. He's just...like that.Overprotective."
No offense, but that sounds /annoying/ and /ridiculous/?
"I've heard a lot about you," Kyouka continues, eyeing
him. "You're...shorter than I imagined."
Dazai blinks. He's never heard /that/ before. He's almost /absurdly/ tall, especially for Japan, and there have been /plenty/ of people who said he was /too/ tall.
He's never been called /short/. How does he even respond to that?
Dazai blinks. He's never heard /that/ before. He's almost /absurdly/ tall, especially for Japan, and there have been /plenty/ of people who said he was /too/ tall.
He's never been called /short/. How does he even respond to that?
There's a twinkle in her eye that he catches onto too late, and now he's convinced that she said that on /purpose/ to damage his ego but--
"Dinner's ready," Rimbaud calls from the kitchen. "Someone help me bring the food out."
Oda is the first to move, setting his glass down on
"Dinner's ready," Rimbaud calls from the kitchen. "Someone help me bring the food out."
Oda is the first to move, setting his glass down on
the table as he disappears into the kitchen to help.
Sighing mournfully at the idea of having to let his chibi go, Dazai goes to help as well.
There's only a handful of dishes, so it's not long before they're all settling down at the table to eat. Rimbaud is at the head of the
Sighing mournfully at the idea of having to let his chibi go, Dazai goes to help as well.
There's only a handful of dishes, so it's not long before they're all settling down at the table to eat. Rimbaud is at the head of the
table, with Chuuya on his left and Kyouka on his right. Dazai sitting next to Chuuya, Oda across from him and Kouyou at the end of the table.
Every one of them has a glass of wine. Even Dazai, who mournfully sniffs at his glass before taking a sip to be courteous. He wishes he
Every one of them has a glass of wine. Even Dazai, who mournfully sniffs at his glass before taking a sip to be courteous. He wishes he
had something /stronger/, but apparently this family loves their grape juice.
Everything is /easy/ as people pile up their plates with their respective foods, casual conversation made as they pass dishes back and forth over the table. Dazai /almost/ relaxes, thinking that dinner
Everything is /easy/ as people pile up their plates with their respective foods, casual conversation made as they pass dishes back and forth over the table. Dazai /almost/ relaxes, thinking that dinner
will be /easy/ and he'll have at least an hour of relaxation--
But he's wrong. Because if Rimbaud has learned /one/ thing while raising three children on his own, it's that if he wants to know something, then he has to /corner/ someone where they /can't leave/.
"So, Dazai," he
But he's wrong. Because if Rimbaud has learned /one/ thing while raising three children on his own, it's that if he wants to know something, then he has to /corner/ someone where they /can't leave/.
"So, Dazai," he
starts casually and Dazai's stomach /sinks/ into his pasta. "How did you and Chuuya meet?"
Oh /no/. That is /not/ a good question.
He hesitates, wondering what exactly he should /say/ because he doesn't want to /lie/ but the truth is... /awkward/. It's not like Chuuya and him
Oh /no/. That is /not/ a good question.
He hesitates, wondering what exactly he should /say/ because he doesn't want to /lie/ but the truth is... /awkward/. It's not like Chuuya and him
came up with a /story/ and he doesn't know exactly how much Chuuya told his father, and he doesn't want to lie if he already /knows/--
Thankfully,the love of his life,the apple of his eye, the /sweetest/ man Dazai has ever known,answers for him. "His son introduced us."
Oh boy.
Thankfully,the love of his life,the apple of his eye, the /sweetest/ man Dazai has ever known,answers for him. "His son introduced us."
Oh boy.
Dazau does /not/ look at Chuuya, but he discretely pinches him under the table because what the /hell/. He wasn't ready to have /this/ conversation. He's already on /thin ice/.
Rimbaud pauses, a bite of pasta halfway to his mouth. His eyebrows lower in confusion, and he looks
Rimbaud pauses, a bite of pasta halfway to his mouth. His eyebrows lower in confusion, and he looks
from Dazai to Chuuya and then back again.
The rest of the table is silent, but he can /see/ Oda's shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
"You have a son?"
Dazai smiles, his cheeks feeling like they might crack under the tension. He nods.
Slowly putting down his pasta,
The rest of the table is silent, but he can /see/ Oda's shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
"You have a son?"
Dazai smiles, his cheeks feeling like they might crack under the tension. He nods.
Slowly putting down his pasta,
Rimbaud laces his fingers together and rests his chin on them. That /warm/ expression from earlier is completely gone. "Well," he draws out, "How old is the little tyke? Chuuya's always been good with kids, so I'm not that surprised."
Oda /snickers/. Kouyou takes a /loud/ drink.
Oda /snickers/. Kouyou takes a /loud/ drink.
Dazai is going to /fake his death/. He's going to choke on his wine until he suffocates and then he's going to leave the country forever. "Eighteen."
Rimbaud tilts his head. "Sorry, what was that? I thought you said /eighteen/."
Dazai wants to /die/. Chuuya /knows/ what he did.
Rimbaud tilts his head. "Sorry, what was that? I thought you said /eighteen/."
Dazai wants to /die/. Chuuya /knows/ what he did.
He feed him to the /dogs/ and he's just sitting there, /smiling/ at him like he /loves/ him but he /hates/ him. He /hates/ Dazai, he has to.
He clears his throat, repeating himself louder. "He's eighteen. Shuuji is eighteen."
Rimbaud /stares/ at him, unblinking. Dazai is too
He clears his throat, repeating himself louder. "He's eighteen. Shuuji is eighteen."
Rimbaud /stares/ at him, unblinking. Dazai is too
afraid to look, staring at the wall just behind him, waiting to /die/.
"My son is eighteen," Rimbaud says slowly, making Dazai wince.
"Nineteen tomorrow," he mutters, like /that/ makes a huge difference.
"How old are /you/?" Is his next question, and Dazai is /writhing/ in
"My son is eighteen," Rimbaud says slowly, making Dazai wince.
"Nineteen tomorrow," he mutters, like /that/ makes a huge difference.
"How old are /you/?" Is his next question, and Dazai is /writhing/ in
embarrassment. The entire /table/ is staring at him expectantly, and Chuuya is /no/ help.
He's actually just put his hand on his thigh under the table as /moral support/ while he's /interrogated/.
"Thirty-four," he answers, voice wavering.
Silence. Horribly awkward silence.
He's actually just put his hand on his thigh under the table as /moral support/ while he's /interrogated/.
"Thirty-four," he answers, voice wavering.
Silence. Horribly awkward silence.
He can feel everybody /staring/ at him, and there's just the slow scraping of a metal fork over a plate as Kyouka /slowly/ eats her pasta, eyes bright with /glee/.
How did he get trapped in a family of /tormentors/?
He shoots Chuuya a look like 'help me' and Chuuya opens his
How did he get trapped in a family of /tormentors/?
He shoots Chuuya a look like 'help me' and Chuuya opens his
mouth--
"/I'm/ fourty-seven," Rimbaud announces, /clearly/ highlighting the fact that Dazai is closer to /his/ age than he is to Chuuya's.
He's going to pass out, this isn't /fair/. Someone /help him/.
Chuuya lifts his wine glass. "It's fine, Dad," he says, /calmly/, like
"/I'm/ fourty-seven," Rimbaud announces, /clearly/ highlighting the fact that Dazai is closer to /his/ age than he is to Chuuya's.
He's going to pass out, this isn't /fair/. Someone /help him/.
Chuuya lifts his wine glass. "It's fine, Dad," he says, /calmly/, like
he wasn’t watching Dazai /drown/. “Leave him alone. It’s not a big deal.”
Dazai wholeheartedly disagrees that /any/ of this is /fine/.
Rimbaud’s gaze cuts to Chuuya and he actually looks /angry/, his eyebrows lowered thunderously over his eyes. “Are you friends with his son—
Dazai wholeheartedly disagrees that /any/ of this is /fine/.
Rimbaud’s gaze cuts to Chuuya and he actually looks /angry/, his eyebrows lowered thunderously over his eyes. “Are you friends with his son—
Shuuji, is it?”
(And this one, Chuuya doesn’t /mean/ to throw Dazai under the bus—because he has enjoyed watching his boyfriend suffer in the name of harmless /revenge/ for keeping all those secrets— but can’t help it—)
Chuuya /cringes/. “God no. We made out a few times and
(And this one, Chuuya doesn’t /mean/ to throw Dazai under the bus—because he has enjoyed watching his boyfriend suffer in the name of harmless /revenge/ for keeping all those secrets— but can’t help it—)
Chuuya /cringes/. “God no. We made out a few times and
that’s it.”
Well, Dazai thinks to himself so hysterically that he’s swung back around to /calm/, at least no one has mentioned the time Shuuji tried to run Chuuya over yet. Some things are still sacred.
Rimbaud’s eyebrows shoot up so far they might as well be part of his
Well, Dazai thinks to himself so hysterically that he’s swung back around to /calm/, at least no one has mentioned the time Shuuji tried to run Chuuya over yet. Some things are still sacred.
Rimbaud’s eyebrows shoot up so far they might as well be part of his
hair. “Let me get this straight. You ‘made out’ with his son. His son introduced you to Dazai. And then you started dating. The /father/. A man nearly /twice/ your age.”
/Finally/, Chuuya’s face starts to get red with embarrassment. “Yeah.”
“/Chuuya!/“ Rimbaud gasps, pressing
/Finally/, Chuuya’s face starts to get red with embarrassment. “Yeah.”
“/Chuuya!/“ Rimbaud gasps, pressing
a hand to his chest. “I didn’t raise you to be such a— such a /hussy/.”
Now, Dazai would /normally/ be the first one to defend Chuuya if anyone /else/ ever even implied that he was a shameful whore.
But now he’s trying to bite back hysterical laughter at the word /hussy/ being
Now, Dazai would /normally/ be the first one to defend Chuuya if anyone /else/ ever even implied that he was a shameful whore.
But now he’s trying to bite back hysterical laughter at the word /hussy/ being
whispered over the table like it’s a /curse/ of the /highest/ order.
Plus, now /Chuuya/ is squirming with discomfort and Dazai is getting /vindictive/ pleasure out of that, out of not being the center of attention.
/Karma/, you little /hussy/, Dazai thinks to himself, finally
Plus, now /Chuuya/ is squirming with discomfort and Dazai is getting /vindictive/ pleasure out of that, out of not being the center of attention.
/Karma/, you little /hussy/, Dazai thinks to himself, finally
taking a bite out of his pasta—
Which is, naturally, when things go to /hell/.
“Don’t call me a /hussy/,” Chuuya says indignantly, and in very /youngest sibling/ behavior, he flings his hand out and points at Kouyou. “She’s the one dating /two/ people, call /her/ the hussy!”
Which is, naturally, when things go to /hell/.
“Don’t call me a /hussy/,” Chuuya says indignantly, and in very /youngest sibling/ behavior, he flings his hand out and points at Kouyou. “She’s the one dating /two/ people, call /her/ the hussy!”
Dazai swallows slowly, putting his fork back down. Across the table, Oda’s eyes are /wide/ and Kyouka looks like she’s /eating this up/.
“She’s /what/?!”
At the other end of the table, Kouyou throws her utensils down on her plate. “You traitorous /whore/?” She accuses Chuuya,
“She’s /what/?!”
At the other end of the table, Kouyou throws her utensils down on her plate. “You traitorous /whore/?” She accuses Chuuya,
throwing her hands up. “This isn’t /about me/. Leave me out of this, /dad-fucker/.”
Dazai doesn’t know if he should /cry/, laugh or be /offended/ that she spit ‘dad-fucker’ like it was an insult.
Chuuya sticks his nose up. “If Im going down I’m taking you all /with me/.”
Dazai doesn’t know if he should /cry/, laugh or be /offended/ that she spit ‘dad-fucker’ like it was an insult.
Chuuya sticks his nose up. “If Im going down I’m taking you all /with me/.”
Oda leans over to Kyouka, whispering something lowly in her ear.
(They’re taking bets.)
Meanwhile, Rimbaud looks /stressed/. “Are you /cheating/ on Oda? He’s such a nice man!”
Oh, so /Oda/ is the nice man, but /Dazai/ is being treated like the /devil/, even though they are
(They’re taking bets.)
Meanwhile, Rimbaud looks /stressed/. “Are you /cheating/ on Oda? He’s such a nice man!”
Oh, so /Oda/ is the nice man, but /Dazai/ is being treated like the /devil/, even though they are
almost /exactly/ the same.
“No!” Kouyou denies, and even Oda shakes his head in solidarity, “It’s just— we’re /both/ dating the same other person, it’s /fine/!”
Dazai wonders if it would be impossible to sneak away from the table without making a scene.
At least the attention
“No!” Kouyou denies, and even Oda shakes his head in solidarity, “It’s just— we’re /both/ dating the same other person, it’s /fine/!”
Dazai wonders if it would be impossible to sneak away from the table without making a scene.
At least the attention
is off him now.
Kouyou looks like she’s about to /vault/ over the table at her little brother, and Dazai pushes his food back so it won’t drop into his lap if she does—
“/Enough!/“ Rimbaud snaps, slamming his hands down on the table.
The entire group goes silent, ears burning
Kouyou looks like she’s about to /vault/ over the table at her little brother, and Dazai pushes his food back so it won’t drop into his lap if she does—
“/Enough!/“ Rimbaud snaps, slamming his hands down on the table.
The entire group goes silent, ears burning
with shame and embarrassment.
“I would like /one/ normal family dinner,” Rimbaud practically /hisses/, his fingers coming up to rub at his temples. “You’re /embarrassing/ me in front of our company.”
Personally, Dazai is just grateful he’s not being /questioned/ anymore but
“I would like /one/ normal family dinner,” Rimbaud practically /hisses/, his fingers coming up to rub at his temples. “You’re /embarrassing/ me in front of our company.”
Personally, Dazai is just grateful he’s not being /questioned/ anymore but
he’ll go along with whatever Rimbaud says as long as this conversation /stops/.
“I haven’t seen all my kids in one place for /years/,” he continues, glaring at everyone individually. “So we are /all/ going to get along and be /civil/ with eachother, got it?”
Chuuya, Kouyou and
“I haven’t seen all my kids in one place for /years/,” he continues, glaring at everyone individually. “So we are /all/ going to get along and be /civil/ with eachother, got it?”
Chuuya, Kouyou and
Kyouka all shrink in their seats, mumbling understanding too quietly to hear.
Oda is the only one who is /enthusiastically/ eating, eagerly reaching for seconds while everyone else is awkwardly picking at their plates.
Silent, strained, /awkward/ peace reigns for the next few
Oda is the only one who is /enthusiastically/ eating, eagerly reaching for seconds while everyone else is awkwardly picking at their plates.
Silent, strained, /awkward/ peace reigns for the next few
minutes and—
Dazai /really/ thinks it’s over. The worst has happened, there’s nothing left to talk about, they’ll move on soon—
“Daddy—“
Now, Dazai has been /coaching/ himself for the past two weeks, ever since he agreed to come to dinner. He /knew/ Chuuya unfortunately
Dazai /really/ thinks it’s over. The worst has happened, there’s nothing left to talk about, they’ll move on soon—
“Daddy—“
Now, Dazai has been /coaching/ himself for the past two weeks, ever since he agreed to come to dinner. He /knew/ Chuuya unfortunately
referred to his father like that sometimes, and he /swore/ to himself that he would /not/ respond to that.
He also asked Chuuya /not/ to call him that, but—
Chuuya /forgot/ and he’s been calling Dazai that for /months/ around the house, so often he calls him ‘daddy’ more than
He also asked Chuuya /not/ to call him that, but—
Chuuya /forgot/ and he’s been calling Dazai that for /months/ around the house, so often he calls him ‘daddy’ more than
he says his /name/,so he automatically looks up—
Only to lock eyes with Rimbaud /and/ Kouyou/.
For the first time,Oda looks a little /nervous/,his hand hovering with a bite of pasta near his mouth as the blood drains out of his expression—
Kyouka mouths ‘oh my god’ to herself.
Only to lock eyes with Rimbaud /and/ Kouyou/.
For the first time,Oda looks a little /nervous/,his hand hovering with a bite of pasta near his mouth as the blood drains out of his expression—
Kyouka mouths ‘oh my god’ to herself.
There’s just this awkward, horribly /invasive/ silence as Dazai looks at Rimbaud and Rimbaud looks at Kouyou and Kouyou looks at Dazai and Dazai looks at Kouyou and Rimbaud looks at Dazai—
Clearing his throat, Rimbaud raises his utensils and Kyouka is leaning forward like she’s
Clearing his throat, Rimbaud raises his utensils and Kyouka is leaning forward like she’s
expecting a /fight/ to break out, and even Oda is leaning back in his chair—
“Do not tell me /anything/,” Rimbaud says, oddly calm considering the rest of the evening, as he steadily takes a bite of pasta. “Chuuya, what did you need?”
The redhead is shrunken in his chair,
“Do not tell me /anything/,” Rimbaud says, oddly calm considering the rest of the evening, as he steadily takes a bite of pasta. “Chuuya, what did you need?”
The redhead is shrunken in his chair,
visibly squirming with discomfort and so red he almost matches his /hair/. “The wine, please,” he mutters, sounding like he wants to be anywhere else.
Everyone’s eyes fall to the wine bottle and they all realize at the same time—
The glass is /much/ closer to Dazai than it is
Everyone’s eyes fall to the wine bottle and they all realize at the same time—
The glass is /much/ closer to Dazai than it is
to Rimbaud.
There’s /another/ moment of silence as Dazai struggles on what to do because he can’t /ignore/ Chuuya but if he reaches for it then that will be like /acknowledging/ the mishap and then everyone will just /know/—
“Well?” Rimbaud asks, his eyes boring a hole in the
There’s /another/ moment of silence as Dazai struggles on what to do because he can’t /ignore/ Chuuya but if he reaches for it then that will be like /acknowledging/ the mishap and then everyone will just /know/—
“Well?” Rimbaud asks, his eyes boring a hole in the
side of Dazai’s face as he takes another bite. “You heard him. Hand it to the man.”
“Right,” Dazai mutters, clearing his throat awkwardly. He reaches over, picks up the bottle and places it in front of Chuuya.
Everyone pretends not to watch as Chuuya pours nearly an entire
“Right,” Dazai mutters, clearing his throat awkwardly. He reaches over, picks up the bottle and places it in front of Chuuya.
Everyone pretends not to watch as Chuuya pours nearly an entire
/glass/ of wine, chugs the whole thing, and then pours another quarter glass, a socially acceptable amount.
Dazai takes another bite of salad. His appetite is /gone/, but he can’t be /rude/ on top of inadvertently causing world war 3 in the family.
This is only dinner, he
Dazai takes another bite of salad. His appetite is /gone/, but he can’t be /rude/ on top of inadvertently causing world war 3 in the family.
This is only dinner, he
reminds himself, grimly resigning himself for whatever happens /after/. They have plans for a late-night movie showing after this.
Then they’ll come home for sleep—god, how is Dazai going to /sleep/ in the same house after all this— before waking up for brunch, a short day at a
Then they’ll come home for sleep—god, how is Dazai going to /sleep/ in the same house after all this— before waking up for brunch, a short day at a
local park, and lunch before everyone starts to head back to their respective homes.
Judging on the way Rimbaud is alternating between glaring at /Dazai/, looking at Kouyou and frowning at Oda—
Honestly, he’s not sure he’s going to /survive/. If Rimbaud doesn’t kill him, then
Judging on the way Rimbaud is alternating between glaring at /Dazai/, looking at Kouyou and frowning at Oda—
Honestly, he’s not sure he’s going to /survive/. If Rimbaud doesn’t kill him, then
Kouyou probably will and if /they/ don’t—
Dazai might just do it his damn self.
Surprisingly, the rest of dinner is… mostly mundane. There’s still some lingering tension, and things get a little awkward when Chuuya drinks a little /too/ much and Dazai moves the bottle out of
Dazai might just do it his damn self.
Surprisingly, the rest of dinner is… mostly mundane. There’s still some lingering tension, and things get a little awkward when Chuuya drinks a little /too/ much and Dazai moves the bottle out of
reach, but mostly things are /way/ calmer than they were initially. Dazai actually manages to hold an entire conversation with Rimbaud that doesn’t end up with him embarrassing himself.
The movie after is okay too. It’s some action film that Dazai doesn’t catch the name of,
The movie after is okay too. It’s some action film that Dazai doesn’t catch the name of,
because he’s not a big movie person and he honestly doesn’t care that much. He’s only here and watching it because Chuuya wanted him to come.
There /is/ a bit of a tense moment in the middle of the movie when there’s a bucket of water dragged on screen, the metallic screech and
There /is/ a bit of a tense moment in the middle of the movie when there’s a bucket of water dragged on screen, the metallic screech and
the slosh of water making Chuuya shudder and turn his face into Dazai’s chest.
He’s there in an instant, covering one of his ears and mumbling quiet reassurances into his air until it’s okay for him to look again.
Kouyou knows and Oda knows, so they both respectfully ignore
He’s there in an instant, covering one of his ears and mumbling quiet reassurances into his air until it’s okay for him to look again.
Kouyou knows and Oda knows, so they both respectfully ignore
the show. The most Kouyou does is reach over and squeeze his shoulder in silent support.
But /Rimbaud/ doesn’t know, and even though Chuuya doesn’t make a /fuss/ and he’s back to watching the movie in a few minutes, he can /tell/ that something is different.
Dazai locks eyes
But /Rimbaud/ doesn’t know, and even though Chuuya doesn’t make a /fuss/ and he’s back to watching the movie in a few minutes, he can /tell/ that something is different.
Dazai locks eyes
with him over Chuuya’s head when he’s comforting him, silent in the movie theater.
And Rimbaud watches for a moment, his expression questioning and thoughtful, before eventually looking away again.
Dazai tries to make the moment look /romantic/ so that Chuuya doesn’t have to
And Rimbaud watches for a moment, his expression questioning and thoughtful, before eventually looking away again.
Dazai tries to make the moment look /romantic/ so that Chuuya doesn’t have to
come up with a /lie/ to tell him,but he’s not sure if it works.
He just hopes Rimbaud can sense that even though his children all love him and cherish him—
They’re grown up now. And they have secrets, they might need other people more, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love him.
He just hopes Rimbaud can sense that even though his children all love him and cherish him—
They’re grown up now. And they have secrets, they might need other people more, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love him.
There is a point where Dazai slips away for a few moments while everyone is crowding into an ice cream shop for dessert. There’s a convenience store not even a block away, and he ducks in to buy a pack of cigarettes.
It’s been a /long/ time since he’s smoked regularly, but it’s
It’s been a /long/ time since he’s smoked regularly, but it’s
been a /stressful/ day, so he deserves a little stress relief.
Besides, he’s fairly certain Oda still smokes, and it’s a good excuse to catch up with him. They haven’t really talked since Dazai pointed a gun at him, and while he’s sure there won’t be any hard feelings— it’s far
Besides, he’s fairly certain Oda still smokes, and it’s a good excuse to catch up with him. They haven’t really talked since Dazai pointed a gun at him, and while he’s sure there won’t be any hard feelings— it’s far
from the /first/ time they’ve held a gun to each other’s heads— he’s sure Oda will be /less/ happy that he indirectly threatened Kouyou.
The man takes his job seriously. If Dazai were anyone else, his existence would’ve been wiped from the planet by now. Oda might not be /cruel/
The man takes his job seriously. If Dazai were anyone else, his existence would’ve been wiped from the planet by now. Oda might not be /cruel/
but he is protective, loyal to a fault.
He's also in /love/, and Dazai can understand the sentiment. There isn't much he wouldn't do to keep Chuuya safe and happy.
When he returns, only Chuuya seems to have noticed he slipped away for a few minutes. He beams at him, his
He's also in /love/, and Dazai can understand the sentiment. There isn't much he wouldn't do to keep Chuuya safe and happy.
When he returns, only Chuuya seems to have noticed he slipped away for a few minutes. He beams at him, his
happiness all the more tangible and obvious when he's surrounded by the people he loves.
Dazai takes his place next to him easily, dropping an arm over his shoulders. Chuuya offers him a bite of his ice cream-- dark cherry chocolate-- and even though it's Dazai's least favorite
Dazai takes his place next to him easily, dropping an arm over his shoulders. Chuuya offers him a bite of his ice cream-- dark cherry chocolate-- and even though it's Dazai's least favorite
flavor, he still leans down and obediently opens his mouth.
The sweetness of chocolate has nothing on how sweet Chuuya's smile makes him feel.
After that, the group spends a little while roaming the local shopping mall, taking in all the sights. Dazai hasn't been to a smaller
The sweetness of chocolate has nothing on how sweet Chuuya's smile makes him feel.
After that, the group spends a little while roaming the local shopping mall, taking in all the sights. Dazai hasn't been to a smaller
cities in a while, and there’s something… homey about it’s simpler charms. It’s not as /loud/ as the big cities are, and not so bright.
Quieter, in a way that makes Dazai feel like he might belong if he decided to make a home here.
His arm squeezes over Chuuya’s shoulders. If
Quieter, in a way that makes Dazai feel like he might belong if he decided to make a home here.
His arm squeezes over Chuuya’s shoulders. If
/they/ decide to make a home here, he silently amends himself, secure in his secret thoughts.
He won’t put words to it yet but—
Maybe someday. Maybe if he’s lucky enough.
Despite the /awkwardness/ of the initial meeting, Dazai actually gets along pretty well with the group.
He won’t put words to it yet but—
Maybe someday. Maybe if he’s lucky enough.
Despite the /awkwardness/ of the initial meeting, Dazai actually gets along pretty well with the group.
There’s still lingering tension between him and Kouyou, but Oda is as deadpan-funny as he always is. Rimbaud is /suspicious/ of Dazai, but he’s friendly enough. Kyouka is rebellious and /sneaky/ and she has this way of inciting chaos just to watch the world burn that is funny.
Chuuya is not the /greatest/ of peace-makers—he gets into a heated fight with Kyouka about how Xbox is /way/ better than PlayStation for at least ten minutes—but there’s something about his loud exuberance that’s contagious.
All in all, the first evening goes great. Dazai waves
All in all, the first evening goes great. Dazai waves
goodbye to Kyouka as they make their way out of the mall. She got a hotel nearby, and she’s eager to duck out in a way that speaks of someone or something waiting for her there.
Unfortunately, Dazai didn’t find anything to get Chuuya for his birthday at the stores, but he
Unfortunately, Dazai didn’t find anything to get Chuuya for his birthday at the stores, but he
already has a few things that he ordered online and another few ideas that he’ll complete once they get back home.
After all, it’s his /first/ birthday they’re going to celebrate together, and Dazai doesn’t want to do anything by half. After the year his chibi has had, he
After all, it’s his /first/ birthday they’re going to celebrate together, and Dazai doesn’t want to do anything by half. After the year his chibi has had, he
deserves to be spoiled.
Not that he isn't already-- a fact Chuuya would /argue/ against-- but it's his birthday, and a little extra spoiling is good.
When they arrive back at Rimbaud's place, Kouyou and Chuuya head inside with their father. Dazai settles on the cramped front
Not that he isn't already-- a fact Chuuya would /argue/ against-- but it's his birthday, and a little extra spoiling is good.
When they arrive back at Rimbaud's place, Kouyou and Chuuya head inside with their father. Dazai settles on the cramped front
porch to give them some private time, extracting the pack of cigarettes he'd stashed in his pocket.
Packing the tobacco with a few slaps of the pack on the palm of his hand, opening it up and bringing one to his lips is a long-forgotten habit that feels as familiar as it does
Packing the tobacco with a few slaps of the pack on the palm of his hand, opening it up and bringing one to his lips is a long-forgotten habit that feels as familiar as it does
new.
"So," a teasing voice interrupts, "You survived your first day. How's it feel?"
Dazai looks up but as Oda comes to a stop on the porch, leaning against a pillar. He looks relaxed and happy, a playful grin on his face his hands shoved in his pockets.
Rolling his eyes,
"So," a teasing voice interrupts, "You survived your first day. How's it feel?"
Dazai looks up but as Oda comes to a stop on the porch, leaning against a pillar. He looks relaxed and happy, a playful grin on his face his hands shoved in his pockets.
Rolling his eyes,
Dazai tosses the pack at him. Oda catches it easily, hoping up to sit on the railway framing the porch. It doesn’t look strong enough to hold someone like him, but that doesn’t seem to bother him.
“Stressful,” Dazai mutters, taking a long drag and feeling a low buzz begin to
“Stressful,” Dazai mutters, taking a long drag and feeling a low buzz begin to
grow in his veins. Nicotine highs are such a /strange/ one to him, a high that makes his body feel hollow but his mind clear.
“Mm,” Oda hums, taking out a cigarette and cupping his hands around his mouth to light the end. The brief flash of the lighter makes his eyes flare in
“Mm,” Oda hums, taking out a cigarette and cupping his hands around his mouth to light the end. The brief flash of the lighter makes his eyes flare in
the dimming twilight. Sunset has passed long ago. "To be fair, you did a lot better than I thought you would. He /cried/ when he met me. Something about his kids being all grown up now."
Unbidden, Dazai's lips twitch with amusement. The mental image of that is hilarious. "I'm
Unbidden, Dazai's lips twitch with amusement. The mental image of that is hilarious. "I'm
surprised he didn't run me out, especially after the--"
He shuts his mouth before he brings up the /daddy/ thing, because going through it was already bad enough, and relieving the visceral embarrassment of it might put him in an early grave.
Oda laughs though, knowing exactly
He shuts his mouth before he brings up the /daddy/ thing, because going through it was already bad enough, and relieving the visceral embarrassment of it might put him in an early grave.
Oda laughs though, knowing exactly
what he's talking about even if he doesn't /say/ it. He doesn't know why /he's/ laughing, because he distinctly remembers making awkward eye contact with Kouyou during that, not that he's going to think too deeply on why she looked up.
"Nah. He likes you," he says confidently,
"Nah. He likes you," he says confidently,
like he doesn’t even have to think about that.
Dazai… doubts that. There have been very, /very/ few people that have actually liked him. Maybe temporarily, maybe in the context of a situation—
But /truly/ liked him? Only a handful of people have ever done that, not that he’s
Dazai… doubts that. There have been very, /very/ few people that have actually liked him. Maybe temporarily, maybe in the context of a situation—
But /truly/ liked him? Only a handful of people have ever done that, not that he’s
ever gone out of his way to be liked.
It’s fine. He’s gotten used to it over the years.
When Dazai snorts disbelievingly, Oda kicks a booted foot out at him. “It’s true,” he insists. “The man only wants what’s best for his kids, and he’s have to be blind to not see how much
It’s fine. He’s gotten used to it over the years.
When Dazai snorts disbelievingly, Oda kicks a booted foot out at him. “It’s true,” he insists. “The man only wants what’s best for his kids, and he’s have to be blind to not see how much
you love Chuuya. Or he loves you.”
That’s true. Dazai’s lips curl into a small smile around his cigarette. There are very few things he’s done right in his life, but Chuuya will always be one of them.
He’s not perfect by any means, but he’ll try his best.
He hopes Oda is
That’s true. Dazai’s lips curl into a small smile around his cigarette. There are very few things he’s done right in his life, but Chuuya will always be one of them.
He’s not perfect by any means, but he’ll try his best.
He hopes Oda is
right, because Dazai doesn't have a /lot/ of practice in making himself more palatable for others but he does want Chuuya's family to like him. They're important to him, and thus, they're important to Dazai.
"You deserve to be liked, Osamu," Oda says suddenly, with a intensity
"You deserve to be liked, Osamu," Oda says suddenly, with a intensity
that he rarely gets, only when he /means/ it. "I know we've all done bad things, and I know you've been hurt a lot, but--" he shrugs helplessly, taking another drag, "--you deserve to be liked. You deserve to be loved."
Dazai blinks at his old friend, torn between shrugging the
Dazai blinks at his old friend, torn between shrugging the
odd proclamation off by ignoring it or denying it the way his gut makes him want to.
Pain is a dull, familiar friend,and it only hurts worse if you start to realize you don't deserve it.
Before he can decide, the front door is opening up again and two redheads are stepping out.
Pain is a dull, familiar friend,and it only hurts worse if you start to realize you don't deserve it.
Before he can decide, the front door is opening up again and two redheads are stepping out.
One of them-- the taller of the two-- goes immediately to Oda, reaching up to grab his jaw, perfectly manicured nails digging slightly into his cheeks. "I thought you quit smoking," Kouyou says, voice soft despite the imperiousness of her words.
Oda's smile is garbled with how
Oda's smile is garbled with how
she's squishing his cheeks, but it's genuine all the same. "I did."
He leans forward, obviously trying to go for a kiss, but Kouyou pushes him back. "You're not kissing me with that ashtray for a mouth," she denies, patting him on the cheek. "We're leaving, get in the car."
It
He leans forward, obviously trying to go for a kiss, but Kouyou pushes him back. "You're not kissing me with that ashtray for a mouth," she denies, patting him on the cheek. "We're leaving, get in the car."
It
should be embarrassing how quickly Oda hops up to follow orders, but Dazai's attention is eclipsed by something /far/ more important to him:
Chuuya, beaming like the sun when he spots Dazai on the chair, padding over to him.
There's something so /domestic/ and wonderfully
Chuuya, beaming like the sun when he spots Dazai on the chair, padding over to him.
There's something so /domestic/ and wonderfully
familiar about how easily Chuuya approaches him, sliding into his lap with one knee on either side of his hips. It speaks to how comfortable he is with him, that he doesn't even hesitate before touching him.
"Hi," he says, like the few minutes they were seperated from each other
"Hi," he says, like the few minutes they were seperated from each other
was a distance worthy enough to be greeted again now that he's returned.
Dazai's smile is big, unable to contain the overflowing affection in his chest. He lifts his hand, moving the still-lit cigarette downwind so none of the smoke gets in Chuuya's face. "Hello."
Kouyou clears
Dazai's smile is big, unable to contain the overflowing affection in his chest. He lifts his hand, moving the still-lit cigarette downwind so none of the smoke gets in Chuuya's face. "Hello."
Kouyou clears
her throat awkwardly, looking like she wants to say something but isn’t quite sure what.Hesitance isn’t something that settles naturally on her shoulders, but it’s been something that’s been showing up more often now.
Their relationship— both Kouyou’s with Chuuya and with Dazai—
Their relationship— both Kouyou’s with Chuuya and with Dazai—
• • •
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