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“Fucking hell, this is disgusting, Dazai.” Chuuya isn’t even surprised his partner lives like this. The bandaged freak is unconventional in every way possible, it’s as if he lives just to piss off Chuuya.
“How disrespectful! My home is very clean, I’ll have you know!” The bandaged freak in question replies in an unserious tone. His voice sounds raspy and strained, it’s so slight that anyone else would have trouble noticing. Chuuya pays it no mind. The consequences of all the talking he does must finally be taking effect.
The duo was supposed to be on a mission right now, but Dazai simply refused to get out of bed, if you could even call it that. His “bed” is a thin mattress in the corner of his dingy shipping container. Chuuya has no idea why his partner chose a shipping container of all things to take residence of, considering their pay is the same and Chuuya lives in a small apartment.
Next to Dazai’s bed, against the wall is a mini fridge. Against the opposite wall is a small desk and a rolling chair. There’s nothing on the desk. As Chuuya steps closer to the bed, he notices that his partner is shivering. He’s curled up under a thin blanket that surely does nothing against the bitter cold. Chuuya ignores it, it must be another act to get out of work. A cough that sounds much too painful to be fake interrupts Chuuya’s thoughts. He stares incredulously at Dazai for a moment, who stares back at Chuuya just the same.
“Dazai,” Chuuya starts after a moment of staring, “Are you… sick?” Truthfully, Chuuya never thought Dazai, the demon prodigy, could even get sick. Dazai is perceived as an anomaly, a monster by some, anything but human. Seeing Dazai in a state such as this reminds him that his partner is just a kid, the same as Chuuya.
“Absolutely not,” The painful cough that interrupts him contradicts his words. Chuuya just stares at him in response. “I don’t get sick, it’s impossible! This must be some higher being bestowing me with their power!” Dazai isn’t even trying to sound believable. Unless he genuinely believes such idiocy, Chuuya wouldn’t even be surprised.
“Okay, sure. You deal with that, I’ll just do this shit by myself.” Chuuya turns around, grumbling about how he always ends up doing all the work as he exits Dazai’s home, leaving Dazai to stare at his retreating figure.
Dazai returns to his regular self the next day. Chuuya hadn’t seen him all day, which is strange because the boy usually has himself attached to Chuuya’s arm. He wasn’t relieved like he thought he would be, he’s worried. The Port Mafia headquarters have never felt so quiet and peaceful, even the lower ranking members are anxious. To Chuuya, the silence is anything but peaceful
Chuuya finds Dazai sitting against the wall near Mori’s office, he’s sulking again.
“The hell’s up with you now?” Chuuya stops in front of him, looking down at his small form. Dazai looks vulnerable, he looks unwell. Chuuya feels bad for his initial brashness. He kneels down to his partners level and leans against the wall next to him. Dazai almost looks surprised, for just a second.
“I messed up, I keep doing that.”
Chuuya wishes he didn’t have to understand the implications of that. He feels sick seeing one of Mori’s punishments leave his partner like this. They don’t exchange any more words, they don’t need to. Chuuya encourages Dazai to rest his head on his shoulder, he hopes that Dazai will at least get some rest.
“It’s not like you to mess up.” Chuuya appears worried, but he would never admit to that.
“I’m not feeling well, I think.” Dazai’s voice still sounds rough, which would explain why he hasn’t been talking Chuuya’s ear off.
“I would have done it for you.” Chuuya knows that any attempt to let Dazai rest is futile. The boy will work himself until he’s bedridden or buried. Dazai doesn’t respond.
Chuuya raises to his feet and offers his hand to help his partner up too. Without much more than a curious glance, Dazai complies.
“Chuuya is such a good dog,” Chuuya groans before Dazai can continue. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, of course Dazai can’t have a serious conversation without ruining it.
“I like you better when you can’t talk.” Despite his words, Chuuya has a stupid smile stuck on his face.
They continue to walk in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes. Dazai’s arm rests on Chuuya’s shoulders and Chuuya is holding Dazai by his waist. Dazai finds himself enjoying the attention, and Chuuya thinks he likes caring for his partner, both thoughts will never be voiced.
“This is Chuuya’s apartment.” Dazai sounds unsure, he’s never taken up space in someone else’s home before. It would be horribly embarrassing if he did something stupid.
“Yeah, you need a real bed in a room that isn’t housing mold.” Chuuya throws Dazai onto his small couch in the living area. The cushions are soft and comfortable around Dazai as he lets himself lean back.
Dazai curiously looks around as Chuuya makes himself comfortable next to him. Dazai flushes at the closeness and the domesticity of the situation. He wishes he could stay like this forever. Chuuya knows he’s staring, but he won’t say anything.
“Chuuya,” Dazai didn’t know what he was going to say, he gets so anxious around Chuuya and starts saying stupid things for a reaction. He likes seeing the emotions that only he can get out of Chuuya.
Chuuya turns to face his partner, who is much closer than he anticipated. His face flushes slightly and he glances down at his partners lips, then quickly back up again. Neither of them speak, or even move, for a few seconds. Chuuya glances down to Dazai’s lips, but quickly looks back up to his eyes. Dazai doesn’t have such shame, Chuuya notices. Dazai is beginning to lean slightly towards Chuuya.
Chuuya isn’t sure what this feeling is. He feels uneasy around Dazai, specifically when he’s close like this, which is often. Chuuya wants to kiss Dazai, or he thinks so at least. He’s never hated a man so much while simultaneously wanting to kiss him.
Chuuya slowly reaches up and cradles his partners face. He stays just like that for a few moments, unsure of how to continue. Dazai doesn’t let the moment last long, though. He presses himself against Chuuya’s front and crashes their lips together, Dazai’s initial apprehension is replaced with confidence. The kiss is sloppy and neither of them know what they’re doing, but they don’t mind. They pull apart as quickly as they came together, Dazai is smiling like a lovestruck schoolgirl and Chuuya’s face has turned an embarrassing shade of red.
Chuuya clears his throat as he scrambles around his couch, eventually returning with a game console. “You want to play?”