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Dazai loved to flirt.
It was in his shameless nature, so Chuuya had learned to read between the lines; at first he had been content to swallow his jealousy and act possessive in the privacy of their room or wherever they were alone, but eventually he saw through the trick.
Dazai would flirt with any attractive woman who caught his eye, just for fun. He almost never went beyond that. Before that kiss, after a disastrous mission a few years ago, Dazai had a handful of chance encounters, stolen kisses, and inconsequential fondling. Then, when they started groping and kissing around corners, there were no more willing women.
Dazai was no longer interested.
"Why?" Chuuya had asked him as they huddled in his bed, their bodies so close they could barely breathe. They were seventeen years old.
Dazai had cocked his head to one side as if he didn't understand what Chuuya was asking. Chuuya clung to Dazai's pajamas and held back, unsure if he wanted to headbutt him or shut his mouth with a kiss. How could someone so smart be so dumb? Damn it.
"Chibi wants to share me?"
Fucking bullshit.
Chuuya wasn’t too proud of his reaction back then: he straddled Dazai's lap, caging the brunet's waist with his thighs and pulled his pajamas to bring their mouths together. The taste of blood had been intoxicating, though not as much as the moan that escaped the bandaged bastard and how he came apart between his hands.
Don't you dare, you bastard.
It took Chuuya a while to get used to Dazai's blatant flirting, but even now, after four years of separation and several months of reunion, he could tell the difference.
Dazai was just flirting.
Still, Chuuya couldn't wait to walk across the room, send the joint mission to hell and remind this random woman—everyone in the room, the whole damn Yokohama—that Dazai Osamu belonged to him. Of course, he didn't, Kunikida was in position and Atsushi looked like he was going to throw up, and the rest of the team was working their asses off.
"Shitty Dazai, behave," he growled into the earpiece, knowing he was safe behind his drink. He didn't wait for an answer, Dazai wouldn't risk it in the middle of an operation, but he still kept an eye on the brunet. "Fucking bastard."
Dazai had the audacity to cradle the woman's face and come dangerously close to her lips. Chuuya had learned to control himself, he really had. This wasn’t the first such mission they had shared. There had been many in the past and Chuuya knew how to act accordingly.
Dazai, no.
Dazai was too possessive to control himself.
Maybe that was why this mission was doomed from the start. Someone wrapped an arm around Chuuya's waist and the redhead tensed. He had to relax. He wasn’t Nakahara Chuuya, the executive of the Port Mafia, but a pretty face at a party full of rich people.
It worked half-heartedly.
"Can I buy you a drink, dear?"
Sometimes Dazai and Chuuya played at making each other nervous, but never in the middle of a joint operation with a truce hanging in the balance and a relationship riddled with cracks. They were getting used to each other again. Chuuya was learning to forgive, and Dazai was learning to really open up.
This would end badly.
"I already have one, but thank you, sir."
He had to get away from that creepy man, warn Dazai not to even think about doing something stupid, and make sure the rest of the team did their job because he was getting tired of waiting. He wasn't made for waiting. But as soon as he took a tentative step to the side, the creepy man grabbed his wrist and Chuuya stumbled over his own feet.
"Careful," the man laughed, leaning toward Chuuya; he even reached out to tangle his fingers in his auburn hair and smiled at him. "Is that your natural color? It would look lovely on my sheets."
Looking back, he saw it coming.
Dazai slipped an arm over the redhead's shoulders and slapped the creepy man's hand away. Out of the corner of his eye, Chuuya could see that the brunet was all charm and smiles, but the aura he radiated told a different story. Chuuya closed his eyes in resignation, he could already see himself writing a million reports, two letters of apology and kicking the bandaged ass next to him.
He forced himself to listen to what Dazai said, because the creepy man's face wasn't to be wasted.
"Have I made myself clear, sir?"
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know he was... I'm sorry."
"I'll kill you," Chuuya hissed as the man ran for his life.
Dazai tightened his grip around Chuuya's waist and pouted. The bastard pouted.
"Chuuya is so cruel, I came to save his honor and how does he repay me?"
"Fuck the mission."
"Huh? Bad dog!"
"Run for your life."
"Chuuya!" he whimpered.
Dazai hated running, the lazy bastard. Kunikida shouted —it would be a miracle if he made it to forty—, Atsushi apologized to the other guests as if he was the damn host and the Black Lizard had to retreat. Luckily, Tachihara had gotten the information in time.
Chuuya took off his heels and threw them at Dazai's head.
No one was surprised when Dazai and Chuuya started fighting and they didn't stop even after Kunikida's threats and the arrival of the cleaning crew. Maybe they would be surprised or even have a heart attack if they knew that despite the fights and the chase, Chuuya would sleep cuddled up to Dazai and that Dazai would leave a trail of hickeys all over his body, otherwise his brain wouldn't let him switch off.
It was a good thing that no one in the Agency had the ability to read minds.
Dazai's hands were everywhere and Chuuya could barely breathe. He stifled a moan as Dazai pinned him against the wall and wrapped his legs around the brunet's waist, looking for friction. He laughed against Dazai's mouth as Dazai grabbed his ass to pull him closer. His pupils dilated, no trace of the flash of amusement Chuuya had glimpsed upon entering the apartment.
Chuuya tangled his fingers in Dazai's fluffy brown curls and gave an experimental tug.
"Why are you stopping?" Chuuya protested.
"Say you're mine," he growled.
"Fuck off," he yelled for the sheer pleasure of being a brat. Dazai pouted and Chuuya bit Dazai's lower lip hard, stealing a groan. "I belong to no one, you asshole."
"Chibi is bad."
"And you're a dickteas—"
He couldn't finish because Dazai bit him at the junction of his neck and shoulder, then ran the tip of his tongue over it, smiling contentedly at the mark he had left. Chuuya tilted his head back to give him easier access. Dazai left a trail of wet kisses from his neck to his collarbone.
Somehow they ended up in the bedroom.
"I adore you," Dazai hummed hoarsely as he undressed. Chuuya dug his elbows into the mattress and smiled mischievously, his curly hair falling gracefully over his shoulders and the blush that spread over his body was hypnotic. He knew the effect he had on Dazai and he wasn't going to waste it. "God, how I hate you, Chuuya".
"It's mutual, Osamu."
Dazai covered Chuuya's body with his own before capturing the redhead's mouth in a searing kiss. Chuuya responded by wrapping his arms around Dazai's shoulders. The weight of his partner, the comfort of their bed and the taste of his lips were so familiar that Chuuya melted. He smiled against Dazai's lips before Dazai planted a peck on them.
Sometimes time was a strange concept. If someone had told him a year ago that he would be in bed with the traitor of his ex-partner, he would have crushed the idiot who dared to say such a stupid thing with the force of gravity. But at that moment, Chuuya was melting under Dazai's attention, exchanging "I love you" without words and enjoying each other until dawn, he could have laughed at himself.
He could have mocked the Chuuya who swore that he would never fall into Dazai Osamu's clutches again and that if Dazai ever crossed his path again, he would slit his bandaged throat. Yeah, he used a knife in the Port Mafia's dungeons, and even then, before their eyes met in the middle of the darkness, Chuuya knew that he could not kill him.
"Wait, wait…"
"What, is that too much emotion for such a tiny body?"
"No, asshole."
Chuuya could feel Dazai's erection pressing against his stomach, but he needed this moment—to lose himself in his partner's dark eyes, to enjoy the lost time and the fact that they'd have to murder him if anyone tried to separate them again.
Dazai stroked the redhead's cheek gently, as if he could read the truth in his blue eyes.
"I'm here, Chibi," Dazai reminded him in a whisper.
"You better be," he growled, clearing his throat and looking away. "Stay."
"I wasn't planning on going anywhere," Dazai teased, swaying his hips.
"No, I mean... Stay."
Not just for tonight.
It was a ridiculous request, Dazai had practically been living there for weeks. He'd already made room in the closet, cleared out some drawers. His bandages were in the bathroom, next to his toothbrush and his stupid 2-in-1 shampoo. But this, asking him to stay, to come home, was different.
It felt different.
It was an 'I'm ready to forgive you' and 'Are you ready to open up to me?' It meant so many things, it was dizzying, and he might not have dared to say it if they weren't tangled up in bed, protected at night and in the safety of their room.
Dazai... No, not Dazai. Osamu smiled without restraint and left a chaste kiss on his lips.
"Chuuya is proposing to me? You must ask Kunikida for my hand!"
"What the hell are you talking about?! Let me go, you bandage-wasting machine!"
"But we're going to fuck...", he whined.
"No, not anymore! You said Kunikida!"
"Why are you thinking about Kunikida now? Chibi is a pervert."
"And whose fault is that?" He grabbed a pillow to hit Dazai, but the brunet, like the slippery snake he was, dodged the blow and embraced Chuuya. "Let go of me, you asshole!"
"I don't want to!"
Chuuya ended with his bare back against Dazai's chest and the brunet's arms wrapped around his waist, making sure he couldn't escape. Dazai pressed a kiss to the top of Chuuya's head and hummed contentedly.
"Chibi, I'm not going anywhere," he promised in a low voice. "I understand that you don't believe me, that you don't completely trust my words. I'm not going to waste time on promises that can be blown away by the wind. I'll prove it to you."
"How?"
"By staying."
"And what else?"
Dazai held his breath.
"By living." Chuuya tensed in Dazai's arms. "I told you once... You're the reason why I want to live. It's worth living as long as you're in this world, Chuuya."
"I can't be the only reason."
"No, not anymore. Fortunately."
It was a relief to hear that. Chuuya could complain about the Agency all day long, but when it came down to it, he owed them a debt. They had made Dazai a better man.
"I hope so, Osamu, because if you don't... I'll find and kill you."
"Sounds good to me."
"And I keep my promises."
Dazai chuckled before giving him another kiss on his hair.
"I know, Chibi." There was something else between them, Dazai swallowed and hugged Chuuya tighter, as if he needed to hold him closer. "I can't promise you that it will be easy, that I won't have bad days or that I won't disappear sometimes... but I can promise you that no matter what happens, I’ll come to you. I’ll always come back to you."
Chuuya turned to and straddled Dazai.
I love you, Osamu.
As much as he wanted to say it out loud, to burn it into Dazai's heart so that he wouldn't forget it, but now was not the time. Perhaps tomorrow. His dark eyes glowed with determination and with such devastating tenderness that Chuuya had to do something or he would die.
They would get to know each other again.
They would learn to be honest.
"Is there anything else you want to add, or can we continue where we left off, Mackerel?"
Dazai smiled mischievously.
"Are you no longer affected by the mention of...?"
"Don't say his name. Don't say anyone's name right now. I swear I'll cut your balls off."
"How sensitive you are, Chibi."
They kissed calmly, as if they had all the time in the world and nothing could get in their way. They kissed hungrily and desperately because the night was short and sometimes words were not enough. They kissed until the sky was tinted with the colors of dawn. And they lost themselves in each other's bodies, tearing out sighs, moans, and words that could only be said in intimacy.
Tomorrow they would pretend to belong to opposing organizations.
Tomorrow they would play the role of two former partners who couldn't stand each other.
Tomorrow... There would be a tomorrow for both of them.