Work Text:
Chuuya shot Dazai a sideways glance. He tried to search his face for any tell that there was anything wrong, but just couldn’t find anything. The brunet had been quiet since they met up in Mori’s office to receive the details for their assignment. That was this morning , and Dazai hadn’t said a word since . Although the absence of his irritating voice and his equally insufferable dog jokes that boil Chuuya’s blood should be appreciated, it just seemed… unsettling .
Dazai had been rubbing his jaw a bit, too. Even if he moved his head to the side, he’d wince in pain. Chuuya had thought that maybe he had run his mouth to the wrong person and got the sense kicked out of him, but Dazai knew better than to push someone that hard. He knew what limits not to cross, and he was gifted in pushing buttons without crossing them. Still, though, no other theory Chuuya could come up with could explain what was going on.
Of course, Chuuya had tried to ask him what was wrong. And while the stupid fish had never been particularly great at expressing himself or asking for help like a normal human being, he seemed to be just outright ignoring Chuuya. Whenever he’d try to talk, he’d get nothing more than an acknowledging hum or a raised brow in his direction, but never a verbal response.
Was Dazai upset with him? Had he forgotten something important? A mission? No, Chuuya never forgot one of those. The Mackerel’s birthday? No, the lanky bastard never celebrated it anyway. God, what was his deal?
It was strange, honestly. Chuuya hated when he spoke, yet hated even more when Dazai ignored him. Like a dog getting neglected by its owner.
Their mission had ended, but he still wasn’t talking. Usually, he’d talk Chuuya’s ears off about how the mission was “all too easy” and “child’s play” as he called it. He’d talk and talk and talk until they got to their favorite post-mission burger place, where he’d talk even more.
Considering the direction they were walking, though, Dazai clearly had no intentions of going out to get lunch. That, like all of this , was just plain odd. Though he never ate much, he’d never pass up an opportunity to spend Chuuya’s money. He’d order the most expensive thing on the menu just to not eat it, grabbing fries off Chuuya’s plate to eat instead. It’s like he lived to inconvenience him, honestly.
Although now he seemed like he didn’t want to go, Chuuya wasn't having it. He was starving, and he was not willing to give up his well-earned meal to accommodate the man. Plus, he needed to make sure Dazai ate, too. Mori would be on his back if his prized possession dropped dead from starvation on Chuuya’s watch.
“Yo, Mackerel. Wait ,” Chuuya grabbed Dazai’s forearm, feeling the muscles tense through Mori’s coat. Dazai still didn’t like being touched, but Chuuya was not about to be ignored this time.
In response, he got a hum of acknowledgement. He wouldn’t look at him, his singular visible eye staring straight ahead. A vein in Chuuya’s temple bulged, a wave of irritation washing over him. Nevertheless, he spoke with only a hint of anger in his tone.
“We’re going to get food, and it’s not up for debate. I’m starving and I bet you haven’t eaten since our last mission, three days ago ,” He said. He expected Dazai to resist, or at the very least try to lie and claim he’d eaten just this morning, but he didn’t. He barely had any reaction at all, and if Chuuya hadn’t been able to tell everything and anything about his partner, he’d have missed the change in Dazai’s face.
There was a look of what seemed to be…apprehension in his eye. A worried crease in his brow. The small twitch of his lip. It was subtle and quick, disappearing in a blink as Dazai smoothed out his expression back to the blank mask he always wore. Despite it, though, Chuuya had seen it. He saw how Dazai’s expression said more than he had. I don’t want to , it said. As if going out to eat, or even eating at all, was such a tedious, unnecessary thing. Of course, for Dazai, it might be. He’d always had problems with eating, as far as Chuuya was concerned. The taller man hated eating if he could help it. He was a picky eater and hated eating as it was. Maybe it was his suicidal tendencies, but if it wasn’t for Chuuya, Dazai would’ve succumb to starvation and his other self-destructive habits ages ago. God knows nobody else cared about him.
With an annoyed sigh, Chuuya let go of Dazai’s arm and grabbed his hand, starting to talk in the other direction. He could feel the tension slowly leave the taller’s body, but he still had hesitation in his steps. Hopefully , thought Chuuya, he’ll tell me what’s the matter later.
When they got to the restaurant, they sat down in a booth, and he let Dazai have the seat that faced the door. He’d refuse to sit anywhere else, not letting his brain relax enough even just to eat. He scanned their surroundings cautiously, as if they were deep in enemy territory.
The waitress came over to take their orders, and Chuuya ordered his food. When she turned to Dazai, however, he just sat there. He didn’t answer her, he just sat there staring at the clean white table. The waitress looked at Chuuya nervously, and he just sighed.
“Hey, stupid. C’mon, order your food,” he leaned forward and flicked him in the head, and Dazai finally looked up. His eye had the same expression as it did earlier, that I don't want to look, but it was laced with something else. His eyes were slightly watery, and his gaze was sensitive. Chuuya thought he could see…embarrassment in that gaze.
No , he thought. That’s impossible. Osamu Dazai, the demon prodigy, doesn’t get embarrassed. He’s cruel and unforgiving, even sometimes insanely annoying and obnoxious, but he was never embarrassed. He knew what he saw, though. He had never read Dazai wrong before, and he doubts that somehow this time will be any different.
What was he even embarrassed about? Was it his hair? Chuuya had washed and brushed it for him last time he had come over to the redhead’s apartment. No way he had proper plumbing in that busted up box he called a home. Chuuya had even bought specific shampoo, custom made to suit Dazai’s hair type specifically, to bring back the curls that had been loosened and damaged due to neglect. Was it his outfit? He doubted it. Dazai had been sporting pretty much the same thing since they’d met, and never once had found shame in it. If not that, though, then what —
His thoughts were interrupted by the waitress clearing her throat. She had been standing there, waiting for them to input their orders.
“Do you boys need a few more minutes?” she asked patiently. Chuuya slowly turned his gaze away from Dazai and looked her in the eyes as he spoke instead.
“No, ma’am,” he started, being sure to use his manners. It was the least he could do for having her stand there for so long. “I’ll just order for both of us.”
“Alrighty then!”
Chuuya ordered for the both of them, shooting quick glances at his partner to see if there was any protest to what he was getting for him. There wasn’t.
Dazai focused his gaze on the table as he tried to pretend he wasn’t there. He didn’t want to come here in the first place, but the stupid slug insisted. He’d wanted to go back to his container, pop a few painkillers, and sleep. He couldn’t even open his mouth without pain exploding in his jaw, let alone eat . If he even tried to eat something solid, he’d probably cry the moment his jaw shut to chew.
A few days ago, he’d been getting his monthly checkup by Mori. Dazai didn’t trust any health professionals; doctors, dentists, eye doctors, etc. Despite this, it was of great importance that he received periodical checkups to make sure he was in top shape. According to Mori, that is. During the dental portion of his checkup, Mori had noticed that Dazai had a slight overbite. Dazai was aware of this, of course, and never minded it. It didn’t hinder him in any way, but of course, Mori only cared about perfection.
“It’s slight, and can be easily fixed with braces,” he said, way too cheerful for something like this. “I have a friend who’s licensed in such things who knows how to keep his mouth shut.”
Dazai stiffened, his mind automatically filling with horrible images of dentists and their tools and their motives and the pain and —
By the time he came to, he was staring at the bright overhead light. His mouth was sore, and his cheeks were swollen, but he wasn’t dead. Whether he was grateful for that or not, he didn’t know.
When he looked in the mirror, he saw them. The deathly contraptions wired to his teeth, silver metal and blue brackets. This was going to suck.
When their food came, Dazai still hadn’t said anything, nor had he looked up from the table. At this point it was getting ridiculous. There was clearly a reason, and Chuuya just couldn’t figure it out for the life of him.
By the time Chuuya had polished off his own plate, Dazai still hadn’t eaten. Chuuya had even tried to tempt him by putting a few of his fries on the brunet’s plate. Still, nothing.
Eventually, Dazai looked up. Not to Chuuya, but to his plate. Chuuya’s heart beat a bit faster in his chest, happy at the potential of Dazai putting food into his frail, thin body. Of course, he got his hopes up too soon. Once Dazai saw that the redhead’s plate was clear, he tried to get up and leave, scooting out of his side of the booth.
Chuuya was stunned, but eventually his anger took over. He grabbed Dazai by the arm and yanked him down into his own side of the booth. The brunet, being significantly underweight compared to the redhead, practically fell on top of him. They wrestled in the seat, undoubtedly causing a scene, until Chuuya was pretty much sitting on top of Dazai, one hand holding him down while the other held a french fry in his hand.
“If you’re not going to eat, I’ll just feed you, idiot!” Dazai squirmed, trying his hardest to get out of redhead’s grip. He knew he wouldn’t be able to buck him off, but he wouldn’t eat without a fight. He clenched his jaw despite the pain and turned his head away from the approaching fry.
“Open your mouth, you bandaged bastard!” Chuuya yelled, moving the hand holding him down to his jaw, trying to force his mouth open. Panic surged in Dazai. He didn’t know whether to bite, or squirm harder, or just accept his defeat and just eat the stupid fry. As if on instinct, he screamed.
“Get off me you—you thtupid thlug !”
Everything seemed to stop all at once. Chuuya’s fighting, Dazai’s squirming, both of their screaming. There was complete silence , or maybe it was just that he couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his own erratic heartbeat. Chuuya was still sitting on top of him, staring down at him with what looked like bewilderment and disbelief.
“Say it again,” he said. He moved his face closer to Dazai’s, striking sky-blue eyes staring straight into a hazel brown one. Dazai felt a flush rise onto his cheeks, his embarrassment evident. He shook his head adamantly, turning to the side.
“C’mon, please ? I just wanna hear it one more time. I promise I won’t laugh,” Chuuya practically begged, backing slowly off of Dazai as if giving him more space would convince him to repeat such an embarrassing thing. Dazai sat up, looking around. Everyone had slowly gone back to what they were doing, no longer concerned now that the two weren’t trying to kill each other in the tiny seat of the booth. He turned back to Chuuya, his eyes wide and staring. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, Dazai thought. Chuuya promised , after all…
“Promise?”
“ Promise .”
Dazai took a deep breath and crossed his arms, a pout on his face. He then made a show of brushing off invisible dust on his coat.
“Dumb thlug , getting his disgusting dog hair on my coat.”
When he looked back at Chuuya’s face, it was twisted up in the most peculiar expression. He was trying his hardest to hold back laughter. Dazai’s pout deepened at the sight, causing Chuuya to burst into a fit of full-bellied laughter.
Once he was done, they left money on the table to pay for their meal and left, heading for Chuuya’s apartment.
“ So, ” he started, “You just got braces. ”
Dazai scowled. If the stupid chibi laughed at him again, he’d kill him, but he answered nonetheless.
“Yep. Around three days ago.”
“Cool, cool.”
They walked in silence for a bit, before Chuuya spoke up again.
“So…no solid foods?”
“Nope. Only liquids and really, really soft food.”
Chuuya considered that for a moment.
“I can make you something at my place.”
Dazai didn’t answer and instead continued walking. At first, Chuuya thought that maybe he’d overstepped, but Dazai slid his hand into Chuuya’s with a small smile on his face, and he knew he made a good choice.
He spent the rest of the walk home thinking about what to make and if he still had any of Dazai’s shampoo left at his place.