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There were a few things about Chuuya that Dazai knew for certain. A few facts that had cemented themselves in his mind, a few indisputable, mostly well known truths.
For example, he was short. Abnormally so, really, Dazai could swear up and down that he’d been taller than Chuuya when he was only ten—as if he could remember when he was ten, but Chuuya didn’t need to know that little detail.
Another great example, he had a short temper. A very short temper, to match his dismal height. Really, most days Dazai hardly even had to glance in his direction to rile him up. Maybe that was a slight overstatement.
Of course, he had a powerful ability, well known by many. One that came equipped with an even more powerful god, not as well known.
Dazai knew of a few other, smaller details that most would not get the opportunity to discover. Chuuya loved expensive wines, had terrible fashion sense—though, Dazai supposed most people could tell that by just one glance in his general direction—, and had a taste for tackiness that he had developed the moment he became an executive and was able to afford filling his apartment with needlessly ugly décor.
And another, more obvious detail that Dazai had—begrudgingly—come to recognize over the last few years they’d known each other, especially in recent months, was that Chuuya was… not terrible looking.
It wasn’t as though Dazai was the only one who had acknowledged this, it was simply a fact. He would not be so unintelligent to pretend it wasn’t true, he had eyes after all. Though, he would never tell Chuuya this, because it would be too much of an ego boost for his already-too-big head, and his little brain might just explode right into his ugly, ugly hat.
Yes, that was why Dazai did not plan on revealing this truth to Chuuya, not now or ever. It wasn’t even a matter of personal opinion, nor taste, either. Dazai wasn’t attracted to Chuuya, he was just aware that Chuuya was attractive. Somehow, despite all his annoyances—and his height—it was the truth. Dazai supposed it was only fair that he had one redeeming quality.
Not that it was that redeeming. It certainly didn’t cancel out everything else, Chuuya was still just as short-tempered and hot-headed and chibi-sized and poorly dressed as always. He just also happened to be attractive.
He wasn’t even that attractive, really. Sure, he was the first person that Dazai had recognized as being attractive, usually he didn’t waste brainpower on trivial matters such as appearances, but Chuuya was his dog, so he was always following Dazai around. Dazai had to see him practically every day, so it was impossible that he wouldn’t have taken note of Chuuya’s… appearance.
When Dazai had first realized it, he’d been convinced it had been a fluke, but when he spent more time pondering on it, he realized it was a fact. Chuuya simply had the right proportions to qualify as attractive—besides the height—, and that was all.
His features fit on his face nicely, very nicely, Dazai had noted. Even his strangely coloured hair and eyes fit well on him, somehow, instead of looking like a mess of random vividness—much like his outfits tended to—they somehow came together perfectly. And his hair, underneath that atrocious hat, was soft. Not that Dazai wanted to touch his hair, but it had happened a few times after Corruption. Chuuya would pass out and Dazai would wait for backup, and sometimes his hand would brush through Chuuya’s hair, but only to clean out the blood. He knew Chuuya would never stop whining about blood in his hair if Dazai didn’t do it, so that was really the only reason.
(Chuuya had never actually whined about having blood in his hair post-Corruption. Dazai had seen him grimace at the sight once, but that had been about it.)
And it didn’t just extend to his facial features, Chuuya was fit as well. Obviously, he wasn’t a hunk—he was far too tiny for that—but he was lean. Not that Dazai had taken any particular notice, but it was obvious. Not only was he one of the best martial artists in the Mafia, but it was easy to see in the way he moved that he was strong, and not just because of his ability.
And Chuuya’s eyes were very… expressive. He said much more through them than he did with his words, most of the time. And there was a strange sort of beauty about the way his eyes gleamed in the midst of a fight, the way his mouth would split open in a grin as he knocked people away left and right, the way his eyes would occasionally flicker over to Dazai, if only making sure he wasn’t getting himself killed.
Not that Dazai thought Chuuya was beautiful, because that would be a bit much. He was attractive, objectively. Not that Dazai was attracted to him.
“Oi, idiot, what the fuck are you spacing out for?”
And here we came to Dazai’s newest issue—no, not issue, observation. There wasn’t an issue with the observation, he had just come to notice a new detail. Well, not new, it had been present for a while, but Dazai had only just come to… observe it. That was all.
Dazai’s visible eye flickered over to Chuuya dismissively, keeping his expression flat as he sent his partner a bored look.
“Did the dog say something?” He murmured to himself, just loud enough for Chuuya to hear. Chuuya, predictably, tensed up in annoyance, and Dazai’s eyes were magnetically drawn to one thing, his newest observation.
Chuuya had been wearing chokers since they were sixteen, he wasn’t sure where he’d first picked one up, nor where he’d gotten the idea, but Dazai had jumped on the opportunity the first time he’d seen it, nearly two years ago from now. The dog jokes—that were already practically endless—were relentless, because how could Dazai not take advantage of the chibi putting himself in such a situation.
That was the extent of it, though. Dazai thought it was funny, thought it was Chuuya putting his head inside the lion’s mouth. He had to admit, it was a bit admirable that Chuuya had even chanced the collar—choker, as he loved to correct Dazai—given his annoyance at the dog comments. But Chuuya had always been stubborn like that.
Now, though, Dazai had taken a new interest in it. Not interest, he just happened to acknowledge that some people—not him—might find themselves… attracted to such an accessory. Not that there was anything inherently attractive about it, but pair it with everything else Chuuya had to offer, and it was certainly appealing. Well, it could be appealing, to someone else. Dazai didn’t know. It wasn’t as if he was attracted to Chuuya.
“Oh, fuck you!” Chuuya hissed, his lip curling up over his teeth. Really, the dog comments weren’t unwarranted. Dazai’s eyes focused on Chuuya’s mouth, observing his dogness, of course. “Your stupid dog comments are getting old, try thinking of something new for once, bastard.”
Chuuya’s mouth moved around the words, his eyes rolling slightly as he huffed out an annoyed sigh. Dazai’s own eyes fell down to the choker around his neck, really, it was like there was some magnetic force drawing his eyes there. Chuuya was certainly strange.
“Hm, so you want me to find other insults to call you?” Dazai mused, and Chuuya’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance. Ah, there really was nothing quite like riling up his hatrack of a partner.
“You know that’s not what I meant, you fucker,” Chuuya grumbled, one of his hands coming up to his own neck to tug at the choker slightly, one of his gloved fingers sliding beneath the leather strap in order to tug it outwards, away from his Adam’s apple, before his hand fell and the choker returned to its original place.
It really was a pointless movement, because it didn’t do anything to actually loosen the strap of leather, so Dazai chalked it up as one of two things. It was either a nervous gesture or it was an annoyed gesture, either seemed plausible, though Dazai was leaning more toward the ‘annoyed’ option, considering how frequently Chuuya did it around him.
“Sorry, I don’t speak dog,” Dazai quipped, his eyes still on Chuuya’s choker. Chuuya had returned his own gaze back outward, actually doing what they were supposed to be doing on their mission—staking out an area of the Port that a drug cartel was supposedly using for their deals. Of course, it wasn’t exactly a Double Black level mission, but Mori had figured that they’d be able to clean up nicely with Chuuya there, and he’d sent Dazai along with him, probably in hopes that Chuuya would use Corruption.
The mission was to stakeout the place, wait until a deal happened to capture one of their men, who Dazai would then torture for information on their base. Then, they would take down the cartel. It wasn’t as though the Mafia was against illegal drug trade, not by a long shot, but they didn’t like people who interfered—or threatened to interfere—with their own illegal drug trade, so, naturally, they would snuff any opposing cartels out.
And of course, since he always took Mori’s orders so seriously, Chuuya was spending the majority of their stakeout actually doing what he was supposed to. Staking out. Dazai, however, couldn’t really be bothered with what Mori told him to do, honestly, he’d only gone along because of the potential to piss Chuuya off.
So, despite the fact that Chuuya’s attention returned to their task at hand, Dazai’s stayed stuck to his partner, more specifically, his newest observation about Chuuya’s—otherwise terrible—sense of style.
After seeing Chuuya’s own finger slip beneath it, tug it forward, after seeing his Adam’s apple bob just slightly with the movement, after seeing the miniscule tilt to his neck at the gesture, well. Dazai couldn’t help but wonder what it felt like, couldn’t help but get the urge to reach toward his partner, slip his own finger under the strap of leather. He wondered how the contrast would feel, the difference between the leather and the skin of Chuuya’s throat. Hm.
“Chuuya,” Dazai spoke up, somewhat surprised that his voice sounded slightly more strained than usual. Strange. Still, it did its job, Chuuya glanced over at him, his eyes still warily annoyed.
Now, let it be known, Dazai had very good self control. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever even had a strong urge to do something, let alone actually listened to said urge. His self control was present in every movement he made, he was always calculated, careful, always thought three steps ahead. No, five steps. Maybe seven.
But, in that moment, he wasn’t thinking much at all. Instead, he followed his instinct—his urges—his hand finding its way to Chuuya’s choker, his finger slipping underneath the strap before Chuuya could even begin to react. Dazai watched, mesmerized, as his finger brushed past Chuuya’s pulse. The leather was warm, of course it was, resting against Chuuya’s skin. Which was just as warm—no, warmer. It was like fire.
Dazai offhandedly noticed Chuuya’s shock, and he couldn’t exactly blame his partner for his surprise, considering the entire situation. Dazai rarely touched Chuuya in the first place, only ever really doing so to nullify his ability, which was already a rare occurrence.
However, he couldn’t be bothered to consider the strangeness of his own actions in that moment, too caught up in the feel of Chuuya’s pulse beating under his fingers. He pulled the choker away from Chuuya’s neck slightly, mimicking Chuuya’s motion from only a moment ago. He felt a spark of satisfaction at the way that Chuuya’s face was drawn closer by the movement, and Dazai found his own tilting in, not really thinking about it.
“The hell are you doing—?!” Chuuya exclaimed, but his voice cut short when Dazai’s eyes flickered up from his choker to meet the widened blue ones of his partner. He took a moment to read Chuuya’s expression, the most obvious emotion being shock. Then, of course, came the confusion, then the annoyance. Though, underneath all of that…
Dazai’s hand fell from Chuuya’s choker in a moment, taking a jerky step away from Chuuya, suddenly realizing how close they’d been. He felt something strange in his chest, a sort of aching pressure that he didn’t quite recognize, and he got the strangest urge to apologize. Or, at the very least, explain himself.
He did neither, of course, instead adopting his usual vacant expression and turning his eyes outward, as if nothing had happened at all. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to meet Chuuya’s eyes at the moment. His fingers still felt burned from where they’d brushed against his partner's skin.
Chuuya was so very strange.
Speaking of Chuuya, he was silent beside Dazai for a long, shocked moment, as if he was still recovering from the minor heart attack Dazai had seemingly just given him. Honestly, he was almost shocked that Chuuya hadn’t punched him yet, or, at the very least, threatened to. In fact, the abnormal silence between them was much less preferred to Chuuya’s annoying yapping.
Then, after a moment, he saw Chuuya deflate in his peripheral, shaking his head slightly in what looked like annoyance. Chuuya grumbled something under his breath, but Dazai didn’t deem it important. That was, until he felt a tug around his neck, quickly realizing that Chuuya had grasped his tie, tugging him back to face him, and then some.
Dazai watched in slow motion as Chuuya pulled him toward himself, down toward himself, but before Dazai could even make a height joke, lips were pressing against his.
Dazai went stock still, and for a long moment, he didn’t move, his eyes wide as his brain ran a mile a minute to process the situation. Then, before he’d even begun making sense of any of it, his entire body came alight, he felt like every nerve ending was suddenly lit on fire, and Dazai was not one for feeling much, so to say he was overwhelmed would be an understatement.
Before he could even consider acting on such feelings, Chuuya pulled away, his face flattened into an annoyed glare. He held Dazai’s eyes defiantly, though Dazai thought he could spot the slightest hint of embarrassment in them. He blinked at Chuuya, then blinked again, his brain still not entirely caught up.
“At least follow through with it, bastard,” Chuuya muttered, their faces still close. Chuuya’s hand still gripping his tie, Dazai’s skin still alight, his brain still peacefully anywhere but there. He vaguely processed Chuuya’s words, but didn’t think too hard about them as Chuuya’s lips twisted in annoyance. Then, before Dazai could even begin to think of a response, Chuuya was shoving him back, turning to glare out at the Port, as if daring it to move.
Dazai was still for a long moment, completely unmoving as his brain tripped over itself rushing to find a logical conclusion.
The only thing he ended up coming up with was the fact that maybe, just maybe, his acknowledgement of Chuuya’s attractiveness wasn’t as objective as he had previously assumed.
After having that thought, he found himself reaching back toward Chuuya, one of Dazai's hands grasping his chin in order to turn his head back toward himself, the other one finding purchase around Chuuya’s waist as he pulled him in.
When their lips met this time, Dazai was ready for it. Ish. His head still rushed disorientingly at the first contact, and his mind felt a little far away from his body the entire time, but, hey, at least he’d closed his eyes this time.
Chuuya made a noise of what could’ve been surprise as much as it could’ve been annoyance against his mouth, but it didn’t take longer than a moment for his partner to kiss him back.
Chuuya’s lips moved against his, and an electric shock ran up Dazai’s spine at the feeling, finding himself drawn even closer, pulling Chuuya flush against himself as the hand that had previously been cupping his face slid down the side of his neck to his choker, teasing at the leather for a second time.
Chuuya’s own hands came up to cup his face for a moment, tilting Dazai’s head to oppose his own as he deepened the kiss. Then, one of his hands was sliding back into Dazai’s hair, the other moving lower to grip at his jaw.
Dazai felt his pulse quicken, which was almost as strange as the rest of this situation. He usually had perfect control over his pulse, it was almost insulting that something as trivial as this could make him lose that careful control.
Though, this was beginning to feel less trivial than it probably should.
Chuuya’s grip on Dazai’s chin was near-bruising, and Dazai quickly came to the realization that he was not the one controlling this situation. Chuuya was directing practically every movement, and Dazai was just along for the ride. Not that he minded.
He felt Chuuya’s lips part against his and followed the movement, their mouths slotting together much easier this way. Dazai took half a moment to consider how often Chuuya did these types of things—and with who?—before his thoughts were rudely interrupted by Chuuya’s tongue brushing over his lips. He felt his breath pause in his throat at the sudden movement, before Chuuya’s nose was nudging further against Dazai’s cheek as he pressed their mouths impossibly closer, his tongue slipping past Dazai’s lips at the same time.
Dazai felt a jolt go through him, his hand moving to cup Chuuya’s neck as he pushed them both a few steps back in order for his partner’s back to meet the wall of a shipping container. Chuuya made another noise against his mouth, and Dazai found one of his own rising in his throat as Chuuya’s tongue traced his teeth.
He leaned further into Chuuya, pulling back from his lips for only a moment in order to catch his breath. He inhaled and it tasted like Chuuya. His brain felt sort of fuzzy at the realization that he now knew what Chuuya tasted like.
His eyes opened slightly, and he met Chuuya’s half-lidded ones for a moment before he was leaning back in, guided by Chuuya’s hand at the back of his head, gloved fingers tangled in his hair, tugging at his bandages gently.
Dazai’s hand migrated from being wrapped around Chuuya’s waist to finding purchase on his hip, moving his lips across Chuuya’s mouth for a moment before dipping his head down and using his other hand to tilt his partner’s chin up as his mouth trailed down his jaw toward his neck.
He felt Chuuya’s breath stutter slightly as Dazai’s lips brushed over his pulse point, and he was struck with the urge to bite down, but instead of indulging in it, he moved his mouth down further, brushing over Chuuya’ throat until he reached his choker.
His thumb curled under the strap of leather, his lips tracing over it as he breathed against Chuuya’s neck, watched as goosebumps rose in his stead. Chuuya’s hand in his hair tugged slightly, as if trying to alert Dazai of something, but he pointedly ignored it, his mouth grazing over Chuuya’s skin.
“Dazai,” Chuuya’s voice was strained, and Dazai’s head rushed at the sound of his name on Chuuya’s lips. That was, until Chuuya was repeating his name, sounding much more urgent.
“Dazai,” Chuuya hissed, tugging at his hair again. Dazai pulled back just slightly, his breath fanning across Chuuya’s throat.
“They’re here, shithead,” Chuuya’s voice had lowered to a whisper, and Dazai finally pulled away slightly, tilting his head as he listened to the faint conversation coming from what were surely their targets.
“Get the fuck off me, shitty Dazai,” Chuuya hissed, pulling Dazai’s hair, painfully this time. Ah, he always had such a way with words.
Still, despite the urge to annoy Chuuya—among other things—he understood the urgency of their current objective. He took a step away from Chuuya, cutting all points of contact in order to allow Chuuya to activate his ability.
Despite the fact that Dazai a) did not have physical contact with Chuuya often, and b) was not usually one for physical contact at all, he still found himself mourning the touch. The feel of Chuuya’s hand in his hair, gripping his jaw. The feel of Chuuya’s nose brushing his cheek, his skin beneath Dazai’s lips, his body under Dazai’s hands…
Perhaps Dazai really had to rethink the whole not being attracted to Chuuya thing.
“Don’t step into the line of fire,” Was the last thing Chuuya growled at him before activating his ability and shooting over the shipping container to ambush the men in the Port. Dazai heard their shock, followed by guns firing and Chuuya’s obnoxious mocking.
“Oh, chibi,” Dazai sighed to himself as he leaned his head back against the shipping container, staring into the sky blankly as he listened to the sounds of the fight happening not too far from him.
“I think I already have.”