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No one knew what to do or how to handle the situation.
Chuuya locked himself in his apartment, not answering calls and texts, ignoring everyone who knocked on his door. All he could do was lay in his dark bedroom, not having the energy or motivation to get up.
His partner, the other half of Double Black, left him. Left the organization. Dazai, the whole reason he joined the Port Mafia, and he just upped and left? He trusted him with his life on numerous occasions, and this is how he got repaid? Withering away in a bed that feels too cold and too empty.
On top of everything else, the mackerel blew up his goddamn car.
Maybe everything Dazai said to Chuuya was a lie. How he loved him, promised that he would never leave him. All the pillow talk, whispered promises, and sweet nothings really did mean nothing to Dazai.
Chuuya pulled the covers over his head and groaned, the morning light starting to peep through the windows in his apartment. Had he really gotten that little sleep?
He contemplated on going to work today, ultimately he decided not too. Mori would be out of his mind if he expects Chuuya to show up to work today, or for the rest of the week.
He grabbed his phone, looking past all the missed calls and texts from Koyo, Tachihara, and Akutagawa. He hesitated before he clicked Dazai’s contact, to call him.
Chuuya sighed and closed his eyes as he called him. Maybe this time would be different, he might get at least a ring. But no, straight to voicemail, just like the many times before. He closed his eyes tighter, keeping back the tears.
“Fucking bastard,” he muttered, wanting to scream into his pillow. “Stupid waste of bandages. Can’t do anything right.”
He would at least expect a note or something explaining. All he was left with was the clothes Dazai kept in his closet. From all the nights Dazai refused to go to his place, and at times Chuuya didn’t want him to go home. He would never tell him this, but Chuuya never really wanted Dazai to leave. He wanted him here, with him.
Maybe I should have told him that , Chuuya thought to himself. Maybe there was something he could’ve done, showed more affection, told him how he actually felt, went on more dates. Of course now he was thinking of things they could have done.
He felt the tears start to fall, he curled deeper into his comforter and started sobbing.
What did he do to deserve this? He gave his heart to Dazai, he trusted him with his life.
Eventually Chuuya fell asleep, only being woken up an hour or so later from his phone ringing.
“Give me a second,” his voice sounded rough from sleep and crying.
He pulled his hood up and answered with a raspy “What.”
“Did he leave you anything?” A just as raspy voice came from the other end.
Akutagawa.
Chuuya sighed and ran his hand across his face. Fucking Dazai and his stupid fucking ways.
“No he didn’t kid.” Chuuya didn’t know what to say. The kid looked up to Dazai more than anyone else in the Port Mafia.
The line stayed quiet for a second before a soft, “Oh. Sorry, sir.”
He knew he needed to say something, just didn’t know what. “Listen, I know you looked up to him, but I’ll take you in under me. His subordinates are being divided amongst the rest of the Execs. I’ll tell Mori myself.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” Akutagawa responded quickly, his voice sounded a little lighter than before.
The line stayed quiet for a second, Chuuya didn’t have much more to say. But he could tell that Akutagawa had something else to ask. “Whatever you have to ask, go ahead.”
There was a pause.
“Do you think he’ll ever come back?”
Chuuya held his breath. Hell, he asked himself the same question many times over, and still doesn’t want to admit it to himself. He knows Dazai better than anyone. He also knows Dazai wouldn’t do anything without meaning it.
Sighing, he answered, “I don’t think so kid. You know him. He does things with reason.”
Akutagawa didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. Chuuya could hear his heart breaking all over again.
It might not have been the best thing to say, but hell the kid deserves to know the truth. Even if it’s hard.
Chuuya could feel the tears threaten to spill from his eyes. “I’m sorry kid.”
He stayed quiet for a couple seconds more. “It’s fine. Thank you.” The line went dead.
Chuuya threw his phone to the other side of the room, letting out a yell as he did. He shoved his face into a pillow and let out a sob that turned into a frustrated moan. He’s tired of lying in bed, tired of doing nothing. Reluctantly he got up, picked up his phone and headed to the kitchen.
His body ached with every move he made. He hasn’t recouped since his mission either, and the Dazai situation makes it worse. It’s a different ache. The ache of wanting Dazai’s hands on him, his body against his, even the shitty, cheap cologne he would tell Dazai he hated. He didn’t hate it. If anything he loved it.
Chuuya grabbed the half empty whiskey bottle and sat at the kitchen counter. Memories filling his head of the man. Their time spent together, the restless nights, the missions, putting new bandages on him after his “talks” with Mori. Everything came flooding back, making Chuuya take bigger sips. He winced at the taste of it. He’s always hated whiskey, he’d prefer wine over anything. But it was Dazai’s, and he would do anything to smell it on his breath again.
Taking the bottle in his hand, he made his way to the couch and turned on the TV. He flipped through channels, not being able to find anything. All he wanted to do was finally take his mind off Dazai but apparently his own apartment didn’t want that to happen.
Everything still smells like him, the blankets, cushions, hell even Chuuya’s own clothes smell like Dazai. He pulled the thick blanket around him, savering the last scent of Dazai and his cologne.
Lunch rolled around and Chuuya realized that he hadn't eaten. Using his phone he placed an order to one of his favorite places, hoping that it would make him feel at least somewhat better.
Reluctantly, he pushed himself off the couch. He tossed the now empty bottle in the recycling, and made his way, lightly stumbling, to the bathroom. When he entered he saw a tan shirt on the floor that was clearly too big for him.
~
Dazai pulled Chuuya in closer, the water running over both of them. Chuuya’s arms wrapped around Dazai’s torso, nails digging into his back, as Dazai’s held on to the shower wall.
Chuuya had his face buried in the other man’s chest, hiding his moans.
“What? The dog can’t handle it after he begged.” Dazai smirked, using a hand to pull Chuuya’s hair so he looked up at the taller man, making Chuuya let out another moan.
Dazai was looming over him, shielding him from most of the water. The red head could only look at him with pleading eyes, not finding it in him to say anything.
“Awe, he finally can’t argue against me.” Dazai mocked, turning the man around and shoved him against the shower wall. Sneaking a hand around Chuuya’s waist, grabbing his cock while he attached his mouth to Chuuya’s neck, sucking at biting at his skin.
“Shit Dazai,” Chuuya moaned, reaching behind him holding Dazai closer to him.
“Gotta make sure my little chibi has something to remember me by while he’s on his mission.”
~
Chuuya shook himself out of the memory. Holding his hand around the side of his neck where some of the marks still lingered. Without thinking he changed out of the hoodie and put on the shirt. It hung loose and past his waist.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and cursed himself. He looks like a mess. His red hair is tangled, his eyes are teary, bloodshot, and swollen, his cheeks are red from crying, and the alcohol, still fresh in his system.
He cursed himself. How could he be so weak? Letting something like this affect him so majorly. He’s Chuuya Nakahara, Port Mafia Executive. He alone has taken down many Mafia enemies, hell he’s taken down organizations.
“Goddamn it.” he muttered, hitting his fist on the counter.
His apartment door opening and closing, made him snap to attention. For a second he let himself believe it was Dazai before quickly shaking the thought away. He silently made his way out of the bathroom and into the hallway, already activating his ability.
“You know he’s not coming back right?” a voice rang out, making Chuuya relax slightly but still sent anger through him.
“What do you want, Mori.” Chuuya grumbled, shoving his hands in his sweatpants' pockets.
“It’s just a question, Chuuya. Besides, you really shouldn’t be leaving food outside of your apartment.” The older man went on, sitting the food at the counter and taking a seat.
“You look like a mess. Is this whole Da-”
“Don’t say his name.” Chuuya said suddenly, mentally cursing himself for interrupting the Boss.
Mori only glanced at him, but he could feel his glare run down his spine. “My apologies boss.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. Chuuya, you shouldn’t let this affect you. Partners come and go, you’ll get a new one soon enough.” The boss said, crossing his legs. “Dazai is just another person. I get it, he’s the one who brought you into the mafia, you and him trusted each other. But at the end of the day, Dazai is just another traitor to the organization.”
Chuuya didn’t say anything, just quietly sat down across from Mori. Mentally wincing at each mention of Dazai’s name.
“I guess on the other hand, partners are hard to replace. The trust is hard to rebuild. Of course we can’t use your corruption form anymore it seems.” he giggled. “Back to what I was saying. Chuuya, you’re one of the most powerful in the organization, we don’t need you moping around looking like this. You’re an executive for a reason. Even if you and Dazai were more than just partners, you need to act your position.” Mori continued, a snarl in his voice towards the end.
Chuuya looked up at him. Mori wasn’t supposed to know about them. They both made sure to hide their relationship at work so not only Mori but others who weren’t supposed to know didn’t.
“Yes sir, boss. I understand.” Chuuya said, keeping his voice steady and maintaining eye contact.
“Great, I'm glad you understood.” Mori said, standing up to put his shoes on, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must be going. I promised Elise that we would stop by the candy store, and I can’t keep the little princess waiting much longer.”
Chuuya got up and walked him to the door, “Oh another thing Chuuya.” Mori stopped, turning around. He gripped him by his jaw, making him look up at the much taller man. “ Don’t interrupt me again, and look at me while I’m speaking to you. I would hate to put our best Executive down.”
“My apologies, once again boss. It won’t happen again.” Chuuya kept it short, knowing Mori wouldn’t want to hear his excuses.
Mori let go of his jaw, “Oh and Chuuya, take off Dazai’s shirt. It doesn’t suit you.” he left with a slam of the door.
He stood there, thinking about what all Mori just said. He’s right of course, he’s an executive. He’s a leader, a small break up shouldn’t knock him down this bad. But it’s Dazai, the only person he truly loved. His phone vibrated in his pocket, pulling him out of his trance.
Boss
You’re to return tomorrow. Be prepared for a meeting.
Chuuya sent a quick message back before remembering he had food still sitting on the counter. He quickly re-heated it, and poured himself a glass of wine. Trying his best not to down another bottle of alcohol.
Eating was hard, just simply trying to get a bite down was the worst thing. He had no appetite, but he still tried to make himself eat the best he could. But yet, he could still only get through little over half of his food.
He put his left overs in the fridge, and poured himself a glass of water. He has until tomorrow to get himself together, might as well start now.
Making his way around his apartment, he started picking up. Finding either his or Dazai’s jackets as he made his rounds. Making memories come flooding back, that he just shook away and kept pushing past, fighting the tears that kept trying to fall.
After everything got put away, his body was hurting worse than before. His joints were aching, screaming at every move he made. Ultimately, he took a bath. Hoping and praying that it would make him feel somewhat better.
That night he fell asleep early, buzzed and in the same too big, too empty, and too cold bed he woke up in that morning.