Archive of Our Own

Dazai sat at his desk and leaned back on his chair. Everyone at the agency had already gone home for the evening, allowing him to enjoy the quiet – or he wished he was enjoying it. His head was pounding from thinking so long that not even an attempted suicide could ease the pain.

It had been two years since their new enemy, Fyodor, had shown up in Yokohama. Even though Dazai himself watched Fyodor die in the helicopter at the prison they were held in – something didn’t seem right. Yes, Fyodor’s body was ripped to pieces and no man could live through that crash, but how would that explain this apple sitting on his desk with a knife stabbed through its core. Pierced by the knife was a piece of white paper that Dazai hadn’t bothered to read yet. He could smell the filthy rat’s presence all over this.

The only man who would do something subtle, yet so bold such as this, would be Fyodor. Leaning back in his chair and lifting his legs to prop his feet on his desk, Dazai picks up the apple. He pulls the knife out slowly until the piece of paper falls to his lap. Picking up the piece of paper, Dazai can see the handwriting of the only man he’s ever known with the same intelligence as him.

“Fyodor, what are you up to now?” He mumbles in the empty room.

Dazai takes a moment and analyzes the handwriting. Whoever had written this appeared to be pressing the tip of the dip pen down harshly, red ink dots splattered on the paper. The paper had only one word in cursive writing.

Revenge.

His mind can't keep up with this predicament he’s found himself in. Dazai wants to tell the others about the possible return of Fyodor but he has no proof. What if this is just a tactic from one of his underlings to get the agency worked up? What if letting the others get involved causes one of their lives to be lost? Dazai was not going to bring such a ridiculous note to Ranpo when he had no clue if it was worth the agency’s time or not.

After sitting at his desk for another three hours trying to think of all possibilities, Dazai came to that one conclusion – this was just something to make the agency drop their guard. There was no way Fyodor survived that crash, the note was probably written before his death and an underling sent it as a scare. Another possibility was that someone was really good at forging handwriting – but if Fyodor is still alive, Dazai will know soon enough and then, only then, will he bring the agency into this. Since Oda’s death he has vouched to protect others, that includes his friends. He picked up the knife and note, taking it with him as he locked up the building – hopefully to have a nice bottle of sake and put his mind at ease at home.

Dazai’s mind could not stop thinking and that’s how he ended up at a certain mafioso’s home. He already knew Chuuya was home since all the lights were on. The redhead would turn on all the lights in the house when he was home since he often complained that dim lighting was too gloomy or depressing. Not wanting to waste time, Dazai picked the lock without knocking. Opening the door, he takes notice of the black long coat hanging on a hook next to Chuuya’s hat. He can hear the faint sound of a television playing some type of documentary.

Making his way through the corridor and out to the living room he sees his predictions were correct. Chuuya was laid back on the couch, sipping a glass of some expensive wine, and his hair was hung over the loose fitted shirt he wore. The mafioso seemed to not notice Dazai’s presence as he stood there at the corner of the corridor watching him.

“Chuuuyyaaaaa I’m home!” Dazai sings, making the mafioso flinch – his wine splashing drops to his sweats.

“What the hell?” Chuuya groans, standing up to grab a napkin from the kitchen to hopefully dab out some of the stains, “Why can’t you just knock like a normal person?”

Dazai follows him to the kitchen and sits on one of the bar stools, slumping his back, “Not excited to see your boyfriend?” He pouts with glassy eyes to make Chuuya feel guilty.

“I just wish you would knock,” he rolls his eyes, throwing the napkin away before sitting back on the couch.

Setting his coat on the counter and kicking off his shoes, Dazai sits on the other end of the couch, leaning his back against the armrest. He puts one leg up on the cushion, gesturing for Chuuya to come sit with a pat to his lap. Rolling his eyes, Chuuya scoots over, sitting between his legs, and relaxes his back to his partner's chest, “I missed you today.” Dazai says in a low tone against his ear, wrapping his arms around Chuuya’s waist to pull him in closer.

Chuuya relaxes into his touch, letting out a breath of relief, “I missed you too dumbass, today was hard.”

“Why is that?” Dazai asks, peppering kisses along his partner's jaw and neck.

They haven’t always been like this. As much as Dazai loathes Fyodor, he is the main reason this gorgeous redhead is leaning on his chest now. Even though Dazai knew Chuuya wasn’t a vampire the entire time he still meant everything he said when Chuuya was “drowning”. The whole plan was to trick Fyodor into believing that the mafioso was on his side, but in reality Chuuya has always been on Dazai’s side – no matter what. Their partnership went deeper than just a simple weapon tactic, Chuuya is everything to him. If there is anyone in this universe that understands Dazai better than himself, it’s Chuuya. So yeah, watching his partner put his trust in him again, even though they were on opposing sides, hit a soft spot in him. It wasn’t hard to give some dramatic death speech while his partner “drowned” in front of their enemy – because how is it hard to pretend to say words from the heart when you actually mean them?

After Fyodor was declared dead and they were on their way home in a private jet, they talked. Almost the entire flight home was filled with confessions and hesitant kisses. Chuuya wasn’t sure if Dazai meant all the words he said at first, but he made it his goal to prove it. The past year together he has proven time and time again just how in love he is. By simple roses, or stopping by to just watch a movie and spend time together. Before Dazai even knew his true feelings he proved it. All the times Chuuya trusted him with his life he proved his love – grabbing his hand to let him rest.

All of their quarrels and four years spent apart was worth it to have the redhead cuddling into his lap right now. He felt like they belonged together – he needed Chuuya. His partner always knew how to make his mind just stop and feel for a moment. He knew what Dazai liked to eat, watch, how he preferred his bandages to be wrapped – he knew everything. When Chuuya is around he doesn’t have to think about simple things like that, because his partner does it for him. He would kill thousands of men and go against Odasaku’s wishes if it meant that Chuuya will stay with him like this forever.

Chuuya shuts his eyes, leaning into the soft kisses Dazai leaves, “Mori was just so annoying today.”

Dazai chuckles, “Sounds like him.”

“He made me do one mission after another,” he groans, “They weren’t even important ones either!”

Dazai pulls back and studies Chuuya’s expression, “Tell me more,” he smirks.

Before he gets an answer Chuuya smashes his palm to his face, “You fucking detective spy, I can’t tell you that shit!”

Raising his hands in defeat, “It was worth a shot!”

Chuuya folds his arms and leans back into his chest once again. He appears stressed and Dazai can feel the tension in his shoulders as he starts to massage the muscles there with his fingertips. Normally, the mafioso was kept in good condition, but at least once a month, the stress piled up. Chuuya would normally have relaxed once the shoulder rubbing began, but today looked to be different. Chuuya remained uneasy as Dazai kept massaging his neck and shoulders. There seemed to be too much resistance to every knot he felt on his fingertips.

“You’re extra tense today, did something else happen?” Dazai asks, pressing a kiss to his partner's pulse. The teasing scrape of his teeth earns him a soft moan from the redhead.

Chuuya falls silent and tenses up for a moment, “...No,” he breathes. Dazai can tell that’s a lie.

Dazai hums, sliding his hands lower down Chuuya’s ribcage, “I know that’s a lie,” he presses a kiss into the dip of his shoulder, “But we’ll talk about it later.” Dazai slides a hand under Chuuya’s shirt, brushing his nipple, “Right now I think you need some help —” his other hand brushing his partner's half hard cock, “ — to relax.”

“Not on the couch.” Chuuya gasps, his hips already involuntarily thrusting into the touch.

With a kiss to his cheek, Dazai whispers, “Of course, my love,” picking him up gently in a bridal style. Dazai makes his way down the hall to Chuuya’s room. Gentle kisses are exchanged on the way and when Dazai sets him on the bed – he feels his heart ache. Something about today just made him miss Chuuya so much. Since he got that strange note his mind has been beating on his skull, but with Chuuya it all just stopped. The only thing that mattered was the man laying in front of him. His red hair sprawled across the sheets and the wanting look in his eyes. Those sapphire eyes that are so forgiving and full of love.

Grabbing the mafioso’s hips, he pulls him to the edge of the bed. Dazai looks up at Chuuya as he teases the waistband of the sweats and boxers, slowly pulling them down together. Chuuya bites his lip and raises his hips to help with the process. Now exposed, Dazai places a hand on the back of each thigh, pushing and practically bending him in half. His boyfriend's cock is already twitching with excitement as his hole spreads open, Dazai’s thumbs pulling at his rim “Can you get me the lube, baby?” He asks, watching the man below him turn to reach the bedside drawer, tossing the lube on the bed.

Dazai doesn’t pick up the bottle yet though, instead he drops to his knees and pushes his thighs back further. He hears the small shriek Chuuya makes, the reaction feeding his ego as he sucks a bruise into the inside of his thigh. Dazai slides his tongue closer and closer to Chuuya’s twitching hole – as if it was begging for his cock.

Dazai groans into his skin as he bites at the curve of his partner’s ass, “D-Dazai…stop teasing.” Chuuya begs, small whimpers escape from his lips. Although Dazai can’t see the mafioso right now, he’s sure his cheeks are pink. Chuuya hates teasing – and usually Dazai would not give in to such a plea so early, but Chuuya did have a rough day. He's feeling generous.

“What do you want, Chuuya?” Dazai moves his face to just above his rim, his hot breath ghosting Chuuya’s hole.

Chuuya is a trembling mess, his thighs quiver as Dazai slides his hands up and presses him back even further, “Osamu…please just —”

Dazai didn’t need to hear much more – hearing Chuuya say his name was enough. He presses his face in, sliding his tongue over his entrance.

“Oh my god —” Chuuya’s back arches off the mattress and his words are cut off in a broken whine. He can feel Dazai lapping at him, his hot, wet mouth sliding and biting – his voice cracking as Dazai eats him out like it’s his last meal.

Hearing the sound of Chuuya’s whines and moans is like music to Dazai’s ears.The way his body is shivering in pleasure and Dazai can feel it in the redhead’s thighs. Him shaking and coming undone just from his mouth.

Giving a hard suck on his rim, Dazai slides his hands down and digs his nails into Chuuya’s ass, spreading him open. He buries his face in, diving his tongue all the way into his hole. It’s much more wet and flexible.

“Osamu– ah!” His boyfriend cries, gripping Dazai’s hair with both hands for purchase. Chuuya’s cock is dripping now, a pool of pre-cum sitting on his stomach.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He keeps sliding his tongue in and out, occasionally curling the tip to brush against Chuuya’s walls. His fingers on his ass spread him apart, letting his tongue go deeper. The death grip in his hair and the cries he hears above him are all he needs for motivation to open him up more. Coating more saliva on his hole, Dazai slips a finger in next to his tongue, thrusting it all the way in. He curls it against Chuuya’s prostate causing the redhead to scream.

“I’m close!” Chuuya barely gets out through his sharp breaths.

Dazai wraps a hand around his boyfriend’s cock, gently sliding his hand with the help of the pre-cum there. He moves his mouth faster, sucking his rim while curling his tongue inside. Chuuya can’t even give a warning before he’s crying Dazai’s given name into the room – his thighs trying to squeeze shut, but Dazai keeps him open.

Once Chuuya has gained his breath back and Dazai stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he leans down to place a kiss on his neck. The redhead already looks like a wreck, but Dazai’s not done yet.

“Turn around,” he says harshly, straightening his back to look down at his mess of a boyfriend.

Chuuya listens, turning his body until he’s on all fours and his ass is handing off the bed. Dazai brushes his hands down his spine, pushing his shirt up. His other hand rubs his ass before delivering a rough smack, “Good boy.” Chuuya whimpers at the praise, arching his spine so his partner has a better view, “So fucking perfect.” Dazai hums, squeezing his ass before grabbing the lube off the mattress and squeezing it onto his fingers. He starts to stroke his cock, making sure to coat it thoroughly.

Grabbing a hold of Chuuya’s hips, he pushes him back onto his cock, the head brushing against Chuuya’s hole.

“Osam–” Chuuya’s whine is cut off when Dazai finally presses in. It’s hard – the first thrust reaching his prostate instantly. Chuuya drops his head between his shoulders as Dazai lets him get used to the size. He can feel his walls spasming around his cock, trying to suck him in impossibly deeper.

After Chuuya’s hole finally relaxes, Dazai begins to thrust. Moving his hips slowly, only giving him shallow thrusts. The groan that escapes Dazai’s mouth is so low as he rolls his hips at a steady rhythm. His cock milking his prostate, gripping the mafioso’s hips tighter.

Chuuya gasps as he moves his face from the sheets, “H-harder…please–” Dazai snaps his hips, slamming into the perfect spot.

“Osamu!”

“Yes?” Dazai croons, leaning down to kiss the back of Chuuya’s neck, his chest pressing against his back.

“P-please!” He cries, finding stability with the grip he has on the sheets, “I need more…”

Dazai sucks a hickey into his neck, letting go with a soft pop, “More of what, love?”

“Osamu…just more.” Chuuya whines, pressing his face back into the mattress.

“How am I supposed to know what you want if you won’t tell me?” Chuuya can feel the curve of Dazai’s lips on his shoulder as he continues to litter his skin with marks.

“Fuck me Osamu!” Dazai inhales sharply at those words, “Please!”

Dazai straightens his back, running his hands through his partner's hair. As he leans back he pulls Chuuya up by his locks until his back is arched into Dazai’s chest. Both of them off the bed now as Dazai bites his ear gently, “Fuck, I love you,” he whispers in a husky tone.

Chuuya gasps as Dazai continues to pull his head back, fucking into him ruthlessly now. The sound of skin smacking, groans, and broken moans filling the room. Chuuya has no way to escape with Dazai’s hand that was once in his hair now sliding to the front of his throat. When Dazai presses his palm into Chuuya’s neck, pushing his head over his shoulder, he gets a gorgeous view.

His boyfriend, the man he devotes his existence to, rolling his eyes back and gasping for a breath. This man is all his. Every inch of him. No one else gets to have Chuuya, please Chuuya, touch Chuuya – he’s all Dazai’s. He thrusts harder, bruising the skin on his boyfriend’s hip. Dazai tilts his head to kiss his boyfriend deeply, swallowing the moans that escape.

Chuuya disconnects their lips to stutter, “I-I’m gonna–” That’s all he can manage before Dazai is pushing his shoulders back into the mattress. His cock pistoning in and out of him making Chuuya lose his breath. Dazai leans forward, pressing his lips to Chuuya’s ear.

“Cum for me, Chuuya”

That’s all it takes – Chuuya’s gasping, clawing at the bed as he rides out his orgasm. Cum covering the sheets as he spasms around Dazai’s cock. His filthy moans consume the room as Dazai groans against his skin. The feeling of Chuuya’s ass clenching around his cock makes Dazai fall over the edge, spilling his cum inside.

They stay like that, connected until Dazai has caught his breath enough to pull out with a hiss. Looking down he appreciates the view of his cum leaking from Chuuya’s hole, his seed dripping down his boyfriend’s legs. If he could get him pregnant he definitely would. He lies down next to Chuuya on the bed, gently holding him in his arms, pressing his chest against Chuuya’s back.

“I love you, Osamu.” Chuuya whispers, interlacing his fingers with Dazai’s.

Dazai feels his heart skip a beat, “I love you more,” he whispers back, squeezing his hand holding Chuuya’s. If Dazai could die like this he would – Chuuya wrapped in his arms. They lay there, enjoying the comfortable silence. If someone were to walk up to Dazai six years ago and say he would be holding the redhead this gently he would laugh in their face. They earned this. All the restless nights, the arguments and love confessions – they were all worth this. The peace that spreads in Dazai’s mind and chest. How did he not notice how deeply in love he was with the redhead sooner?

Dazai kisses the back of Chuuya’s neck before picking him up in a bridal style and carrying them to the shower. He loved taking care of Chuuya, it was like a way to express his regret for all the mistreatment he did in the past.

After they are both clean with the help of Dazai washing Chuuya’s hair, they get in their pajamas. The only light is the warm glow of the night lamp on the side table as they tuck into bed. Out of habit, their bodies face each other, sapphire eyes meeting brown. Dazai takes a hand, cupping Chuuya’s cheek as he whispers, “What would you say if I asked to marry you?”

Dazai chuckles as Chuuya buries his face in his chest, “Why would you ask that now?”

“No reason.” Dazai laughs, stroking the red strands from Chuuya’s cheek.

“You’re so embarrassing…I can’t believe I actually love you.”

Dazai just laughs, pressing him closer into his chest. The warmth of Chuuya’s skin reminds him of the comfort by a fireplace in late winter. They lay there in a tight embrace until Dazai can feel the mafioso relax in his arms, his breaths becoming heavier on his chest. He looks down at the redhead to see the side of his face slack and small breaths escaping between his lips.

“Before you fall asleep, love, what happened today?” Dazai asks, drawing circles into Chuuya’s back.

“I just got a weird note.”

Dazai freezes, his hand stopping from caressing his boyfriend. He can’t so much as breath when he realizes that Chuuya might be in danger. Why would Chuuya get a note too? Was it because he tricked Fyodor as well? It doesn’t matter if this could just be a hoax for the detective agency, if Fyodor was back then Chuuya is in danger.

With so many thoughts racing through his mind Dazai asks, “What did it say, Chuuya?”

Chuuya rubs his face into the detective’s chest, grumbling out, “Something about revenge or whatever.”

Noticing the worn out expression on his boyfriend’s face, Dazai whispers, “Probably nothing important.”

Nodding, Chuuya buries his face further, “Can I sleep now?”

Dazai places a kiss at the crown of Chuuya’s head, “Yes love, go to sleep.”

It only took a few minutes until the redhead was completely limp and breathing heavily on his chest – leaving Dazai alone with his thoughts. At first this felt like something trivial, but now Chuuya was involved. If Fyodor did live through that, what would he do? He can’t risk losing him. If he lost Chuuya then there would be no point anymore. What was a life without teasing and loving this man wrapped in his arms? There would be no purpose – Chuuya is his purpose.

Dazai’s mind is too chaotic to even shut his eyes, the thoughts racing and consuming him. He didn’t get a wink of sleep, too occupied on how to protect the only person he’s ever loved. He wants to spend his whole life with Chuuya. There is no one on the planet or universe he would rather be with. All the pointless flings and the women he’s met couldn’t even compare to the fiery man in his arms.

Dazai spent the next week figuring out if Fyodor is still alive – obsessing over it. He even took a private jet, courtesy of his cool mafioso boyfriend, to re-evaluate the crime scene. There were no clues, no evidence, and Dazai didn’t know what to do for the first time in his life. Usually he can predict everything, but this was something he never predicted. He even checked out sketchy warehouses to see if maybe there was some secret hideout – but nothing appeared. It was hopeless.

Time passed quickly and Dazai never stopped looking for Fyodor. He did continue about his daily life though. His visits to Chuuya’s, fighting next to the detective agency, he even stopped by a jewelry store to pick out rings. They were gorgeous – Dazai’s having a brown sphene gem in the center and Chuuya’s with a blue sapphire. The colors he picked matched their eyes beautifully. He even picked out a velvet blue box that went well with Chuuya’s ring.

It had been seven months since Dazai whispered that question to Chuuya. What would he say?...Hopefully yes.

As Dazai stands in front of Chuuya’s door he feels his heart pounding out of his chest. He had told Chuuya to get ready for something nice and that they were going out to eat – tonight was the night. Dazai even took the time to do his hair, take a shower, and wear a nice button up. He knocks, gripping the magenta camellia’s he bought for the redhead. Usually he never knocks but today was a special occasion.

Chuuya opens the door and Dazai feels his breath catch, “Wow…you look–”

“Good, hopefully.” Chuuya smirks, “You did tell me to dress up.”

Dazai stands there, his jaw slack, as he looks the redhead up and down. His eyes trailing over the tight suit that hugs his curves like a delicacy. He is in awe of the way the spruce blue suit transforms Chuuya's eyes into the appearance of an ideal night on the beach. The fiery color of Chuuya's locks is bold and electric, as they dangle delicately over his left shoulder.

“...Beautiful,” he whispers.

Chuuya can’t help but blush at the words, “Are those for me?” He asks, gesturing to the flowers.

“Y-yes, sorry.” Dazai stumbles, handing Chuuya the camellias.

Taking the flowers and smelling them, Chuuya smiles, “Thank you, I’ll put them in a vase right away.”

Dazai watches as Chuuya hurries inside, placing the flowers in a crystal vase. As he waits at the door he can’t help but freak out, because that man is about to be his fiance and in the near future his husband – if everything goes right. It’s a good freak out, one that makes him want to jump around and scream like a little school girl. How did he manage to pull such a beautiful, self assured man?

“I’m ready!” Chuuya says, grabbing his hand, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise!”

Dazai takes Chuuya to his preferred Italian eatery. Chuuya claims that it's the only establishment that offers authentic meals and good wine. Dazai remains totally sober while Chuuya drinks his wine at the dimly lit table. For the upcoming surprise, he had previously urged Chuuya to limit his wine consumption to one glass. If the redhead was intoxicated when he got down on one knee, that would be dreadful.

Following dinner and laughter, Dazai and Chuuya take a stroll beside their favorite river in Yokohama. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, and a brick promenade runs along the river. Dazai's heart melts as he gazes at his boyfriend, who has delicate pink blossoms all over his hair, making him look somewhat like a princess. The pathway is illuminated by the stars above their heads as the sun sets. Because it was so late on a weekday, the route was deserted, but Dazai favored that. In order for them to experience this delicate moment between the two of them, he wanted them to be alone.

Chuuya wraps his arm around Dazai’s bicep, leaning his head on the taller man’s shoulder, “You surprised me today.”

Dazai looks down with a smile, admiring the redhead’s long eyelashes, “How so?”

“I wasn’t expecting such a nice date, mackerel.” Chuuya smiles, “You even restricted my wine intake for later,” he looks up with a smirk, “Gonna make me try that position you wanted me to do last week?”

“Chibi! Who do you take me for?” Dazai shakes with laughter.

“A pervert.”

“You’re the pervert, Chibi!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Dazai pulls Chuuya closer to his side, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, “I actually have something very important to say, Chuuya,” he says softly, placing another kiss to the redhead’s cheek.

“Like what?”

Dazai stops walking, making Chuuya turn to look at him – Dazai is just…lost. Lost in the deep blue eyes that look up at him with curiosity. Lost in the soft red locks dangling off of his boyfriend’s shoulder. His heart feels like it’s swelling in his chest as he tries to form the words he wants to say. Dazai feels so much love, passion, and trust with him it’s almost overwhelming. How is he going to express all these emotions in him without a single stutter?

Reaching into his pocket with his free arm and taking a deep breath, Dazai holds tight onto the velvet box, “Chuuya, you are the most beautiful person I have ever met,” he starts slow, noticing the way Chuuya’s eyes have widen while holding onto his forearm tighter, “I love you with all my heart. No one has ever or will ever make me feel the way you do. When I wake up in the morning and I see your eyes it’s like time stops. Every breath, every move you make, I’ve memorized it all since we were fifteen. I could never take my eyes off of you, not now, not then. When I left for four years it was unbearable not being by your side. I felt a piece of my soul was missing. You are my other half Chuuya. Life is nothing without you…I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Chuuya places his hand on Dazai’s cheek, holding his arm tighter, “Osamu…”

“I feel like I’m rambling,” he brushes his thumb over the velvet box in his pocket, “Chuuya – Chibi…I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to wake up with you every morning, do things like pointless shopping trips and stay home all day together to binge your favorite anime.”

“Osamu I w–” Chuuya breathes, a single tear running down his cheek.

“Most importantly Chuuya, I want to grow old with you…” Dazai interrupts, his eyes wet as he tries to hold back tears, “You’ve changed me into a better man, Chuuya,” he pulls the box out of his pocket and prepares to get on one knee, “Will you marry m–”

Chuuya goes limp. Looking down, Dazai can see the blood from Chuuya’s chest spreading onto his button up. So much blood.

Chuuya hacks up blood across Dazai’s chest and when he looks at the redhead’s eyes they look lifeless – cold. Dazai puts the box into his pocket to hold onto Chuuya’s torso so he can hold him up. His body became heavier by the second.

“CHUUYA?!”

Dazai feels his heart drop and time stop as he’s holding him in his arms. His boyfriend’s body turns cold too quickly, and the blood from Chuuya’s heart is gushing down his suit. Turning his head behind him, Dazai sees the man that’s been haunting his dreams for months – Fyodor.

Without hesitation he pulls one arm back, swinging it to collide into the man’s nose – sending him to the ground. Tears stream down his face as he turns back to Chuuya, holding him tighter. Who cares if Fyodor is here? He needs to get Chuuya to safety.

As he begins to pick Chuuya up, holding him bridal style, he hears a voice call behind him, “I wouldn’t try that if I was you, Dazai dear.”

Dazai stops in his place, staring straight ahead, “That knife I used had poison and I stabbed him in the heart. I would say your goodbyes now.” Fyodor grins, standing up with a stumble.

“I can sav–”

“You won't.”

Dazai sees his vision going blurry, knowing he can’t save him. Even if he somehow got the poison out, there is too much blood lost, “I can try.” Dazai whispers, kissing Chuuya’s cheek.

“O…Osa–samu” Chuuya chokes out between coughs of blood.

“Shhh baby, save your energy, okay?” Dazai presses their foreheads together before he mutters, “Why? After all this time? Why not kill me instead?”

“Oh Dazai, I don’t need to wound you to kill you,” Fyodor amuses, “The perfect revenge is it not? Anyways, I’ll be going now Dazai, farewell.”

Before Dazai can even turn to face the other man, he’s gone. Not having time to think about Fyodor’s return, Dazai runs to the nearest bench, holding Chuuya tight against his chest. He rests him on the wood, as he pulls out his phone dialing Yosano’s number.

“Dazai wha–”

“Yosano please! How close are you to the river?!” He sobs into the phone, his voice cracking from the strain in his chest.

“What’s wrong? Are you o–”

“Chuuya is bleeding out and poisoned! Please Yosano, come quick!”

“I’m on my way! Put pressure on his heart to slow the bleeding!”

The line goes dead as Dazai drops the phone, pressing a hand over Chuuya’s heart, “O–Osa..samu p–please…s–sto..p.”

Dazai takes a hand, gently caressing his thumb on Chuuya’s cheek, “No! I won’t!” He chokes out, “You’re going to live! You…you’re–”

Chuuya interrupts him by pressing the palm of his hand to Dazai’s on his cheek, “Th–the…r..ings..I–I want..to..wea–r mi..ne.”

“Chuuya…I–”

“P..lea–se..”

Tears drop onto his shirt as Dazai grabs the velvet box from his pocket. He opens it for Chuuya with one hand to see before pulling the ring out. He gently slides the ring onto Chuuya’s finger, his hand limp enough to maneuver. Dazai takes a moment to appreciate the slight flicker in Chuuya’s eyes before pulling out his own ring and sliding it onto his finger – being sure to keep his other hand pressed to Chuuya’s heart.

His face burning hot from tears, Dazai chuckles, “I take it that’s a yes?”

Chuuya smiles weakly at him, raising his hand barely to cup Dazai’s cheek, “Wh..y wou..ld – I..ev..er say..n–no..to a…macker..el like…you?

Dazai chokes out a sob, leaning down to slide his lips against his fiance’s. He reluctantly pulls back to breath softly, “I love you, Chuuya.”

Chuuya’s hand that’s pressed to Dazai’s cheek slips to his chest as he chokes out, “I..lo..ve..you..O..samu,” his eyelids close slowly until they’re pressed shut.

His fiance’s body goes still as the blood continues to pour into Dazai’s hand.

Dazai’s throat hurts. It feels scratched and raw. Someone is screaming, he’s not sure who. He grabs onto Chuuya’s collar, pulling himself over his dead fiance.

“Chuuya! Don’t leave me here please!” He sobs, hyperventilating.

Everything is ringing, he can’t hear, can’t breathe. Somebody grabs him by the shoulders, yanking him off of Chuuya on the bench.

“Dazai breathe!” A distant voice yells, even though they’re trying to get his attention he continues to stare at the cold body of his lover. His throat still hurts.

How is he supposed to live without Chuuya? He can’t live without Chuuya – he won’t. Dazai pulls free from whoever is grasping him, leaning his body over Chuuya. He places a gentle kiss on his lips and whispers through choked breaths, “You want me to go with you that bad, love?” He whispers against Chuuya’s lips, “How could I ever say no to a slug like you.”

Dazai pushes himself up, sprinting until he can see the bright lights ahead. The city illuminates the tears on his face as he runs. Someone is yelling for him to stop, but he doesn’t care. He runs until there is cement under his feet, the headlights closing in.

With one final breath he whispers, “I’ll see you soon, Chuuya.”

Everything goes black.