Work Text:
Sunday: Brunch with Kunikida and Yosano
It was almost as if the assassination attempt had never happened, never almost succeeded, never resulted in Chuuya’s freedom from the Port Mafia and Dazai’s departure from the Armed Detective Agency. Chuuya was standing in the kitchen of the penthouse, wearing an apron, cooking. Dazai had gone to the door to welcome Kunikida and Yosano. The three of them were now entering the kitchen, cheerful.
Yosano set a heavy bag on the counter with a clink. “Do you have a pitcher? I brought champagne and orange juice so we can have mimosas with brunch.”
Chuuya grinned from ear to ear. “Yeah. Dazai, can you grab one?” Fucking awesome, nothing’s changed. We’re still friends. He set down his spatula and turned to Yosano for a hug of greeting.
“Hi, Yosano, hi, Kunikida,” he said, and picked the spatula back up.
“Hi, yourself,” Yosano said. She eyed his blond hair, which he had yet to dye back. “Weird how you look more like a delinquent this way. Looks good, though.”
“Good morning, Chuuya,” Kunikida said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Chuuya shook his head. “I’m good. Unless Yosano needs help with the mimosas.” He looked over his shoulder at them.
Dazai said, “Actually, I need to hit the restroom. Do you mind, Kunikida?” He held the pitcher out to Kunikida with one hand and the tall blond took it. Dazai squeezed past him in the tight space, one hand briefly touching Kunikida’s side to steady himself.
Chuuya turned his face back to the stove top as Yosano began pouring orange juice and Kunikida opened the first champagne bottle.
Okay, is that a prank, or business, or what? he thought. Whatever, just fucking put it back before he notices.
Dazai escorted Kunikida and Yosano into the kitchen, making the usual pleasantries, but inside, he was itching with curiosity. Is it just the qualities, or the timetable, too? he wondered. I have to know! Surely it wouldn’t hurt if he just took a peek. It’s not like he was going to tease Kunikida this time; the idealist would never even know.
Self-justification complete, Dazai took the pitcher and handed it to Kunikida. “Actually, I need to hit the restroom. Do you mind, Kunikida?”
As the far-too-trusting young man accepted the pitcher, Dazai squeezed past him, smoothly pickpocketing him, and headed for the restroom. Closing the door behind himself, he quickly opened Kunikida’s new blue notebook and flipped through to the pertinent section. The changes he had expected were there; moving on to the timetable-
Dazai smiled with delight. One year? That’s less than three months away!
Curiosity satisfied, he pocketed the notebook, flushed the toilet for verisimilitude, and washed his hands.
Hurrying back to the kitchen, he replaced the notebook in Kunikida’s pocket under the guise of easing past him once more to get to Chuuya at the stove top. Oops, busted, he thought, as Chuuya watched him with a pointed look of exasperation. He smiled back impishly as he stepped up behind his husband. As he placed his hands on Chuuya’s waist and leaned forward to look over his shoulder, Chuuya looked up at him in turn.
“Really?” he said in an undertone. “You better have a good explanation.”
“Hm?” Kunikida asked. “Did you say something?”
“He didn’t make the coffee,” Chuuya said at a more normal volume. “I’d rip him a new one if I didn’t have a mimosa to tide me over. Actually, do you guys want coffee, or tea?”
As they ate, Yosano first insisted that Chuuya and Dazai explain Kousei’s reappearance.
“It’s a little suspicious that you two quit on Wednesday, and on Sunday the internet was already buzzing with how Kousei was going to be performing with Kouko,” she said skeptically. “Only one week to prepare for an entire professional concert run?”
“What did you guys give me, like a day, to prepare for a singing competition?” Chuuya retorted indignantly. “Maybe I’m just that good.”
He dropped the offended act and grinned, drinking some more of his mimosa. “Nah, seriously, she basically acknowledged that I suck as politely as she could, so she only had me sing on two songs, just enough to justify me being there. Aside from that she just had me dance and do backing vocals on the chorus of a couple of the covers.”
“And exactly why did she need to justify your presence?” Kunikida asked pointedly, setting down his chopsticks. “Or more accurately, why did she need your presence in the first place?”
“She was receiving death threats,” Dazai said baldly. “And her father decided, who better to be her bodyguard on and off stage than the one man who can stop bullets, who also possesses a cover identity that has an established history of knowing her as a fellow performer?”
“Can’t argue with that,” Yosano said, pouring herself another mimosa. “All set now, I take it?”
“Yep,” Chuuya said, reaching for his soup. “It wasn’t actually a big deal, they’ve all been arrested now.”
“Good work,” Kunikida said. “How did it feel to be officially a good guy?”
“Fine, but a little boring,” Chuuya said honestly. “I wish I’d gotten to kick some ass.” He drained his bowl. “So how about you guys? Anything exciting going on at the Agency?”
“Exciting? No,” Kunikida said. “The work we’ve had since you left,” he said to Dazai, “has been pretty mundane. It’s been quieter, without you,” he said a little pensively. “But as you said, it’ll be good for us to expand our horizons. Atsushi’s more observant than I had realized, now that he’s not able to just hang on your coat tails, even if he isn’t yet in the habit of making connections based on those observations. And at this point it’s fairly easy to manipulate Ranpo into doing his work when we actually need him to, simply by bemoaning the fact that we don’t have you any more. And the one difficult mission that we’ve had in the last week or two - well, the plan was considerably less Machiavellian, in your absence. With me being in charge, such things will undoubtedly be more methodical and less-” he paused.
“Artistic?” Dazai said, batting his eyelashes. “Sophisticated? Elegant?”
“I was going to say chaotic,” Kunikida said wryly. Dazai made a moue.
Yosano drained her glass and looked over the rim at Chuuya somberly. “We haven’t had any joint missions with the Port Mafia since you left,” she said neutrally. “Complete radio silence from that end.”
Chuuya frowned unhappily and poured himself another mimosa, then got up to refill the pitcher.
“I expect they’ve had to batten down the hatches, and there’s a lot of restructuring to do,” he said, uncharacteristically subdued. “I’ve got tea with Kouyou this week, if she doesn’t have to cancel again. Hopefully everybody’s doing okay.”
The three at the table looked at Chuuya, his back to them as he mixed the mimosas. His shoulders were a little hunched. They exchanged glances.
“So,” Kunikida said, upbeat. “Do you two have another interesting case on deck yet, or are you focusing on apartment-hunting right now?”
Chuuya’s shoulders eased, and he turned back to them holding the full pitcher, his good humor restored.
“No other cases right now,” he said. “We haven’t really opened for business. The Takechi thing, he reached out to us. The realtor we hired is gonna show us some places tomorrow morning.” He sat down at the table and began refilling glasses as the conversation grew animated.
Tuesday: Tea with Kouyou
Chuuya, dressed in an impeccably tailored dark blue suit but with no tie, was escorted through Ozaki house to a private tea room, where Kouyou awaited him. As Kouyou’s assistant bowed him into the room and then backed out, closing the door behind her, Kouyou rose to her feet to greet him.
“Chuuya, lad,” she said, her smile warm. “You look well.”
“Glad to see you again,” he replied, smiling back up at her as she gestured him to the seat opposite her. “Feels weird being here but not on business. Even weirder being here and knowing I don’t belong any more.”
They exchanged a nostalgic look.
“Well, lad, whether you are a part of the organization or not, you will always be welcome here when you come in peace,” Kouyou said with half a smile. She held her sleeve out of the way and poured them both tea. Picking up a pair of tongs, she selected a pastry and placed it on the plate in front of her, and then sipped her tea as Chuuya chose his own.
“So, Chuuya, how are you adjusting to your new role in society?” she asked with genuine interest.
“I’m doing fine, Ane-san,” Chuuya replied. “I’ve got Dazai. And I’ve got my freedom, for the first time in my life. I’m more concerned about you. How are you doing? Is the Port Mafia going to be okay?”
As Kouyou smiled wryly at Chuuya, he shook his head vigorously back at her. “You know what I mean. I know you’ll all be fine without me. But Dazai - we - did a lot of damage to the Port Mafia on the way out as punishment, to make a point. And Mori was fucking pissed-”
“Language,” Kouyou said sternly.
“Sorry, Ane-san,” Chuuya said repentantly. “Mori was extremely displeased about the situation, and I don’t know how reasonable or rational he was likely to be in the aftermath. Is he taking it out on everybody? Plus you’re down an executive, so that puts more work on you. Are you okay?”
Kouyou looked at him affectionately. She was silent for a brief time as she evaluated what was and was not permissible to share. Eventually she spoke carefully.
“I am somewhat overworked and hence tired,” she said. “Other than that, I am physically well.” She delicately raised her teacup and sipped, then replaced it on the table.
“The Boss is implementing a zero-tolerance policy for conflict-of-interest romantic relationships going forward, as well as-” she paused again- “extensive restrictions on conflict-of-interest friendships.” she said primly. “And he brought in an ability user from the west at great expense to test everyone’s loyalty, beginning with the executives. I of course passed,” she said, her sharp eyes boring into his.
Chuuya understood the warning. “Of course you did,” he said firmly. “I would expect nothing less.” His smile was warm and sincere, and made it clear that he had never expected nor wished for their friendship to override her loyalty to the organization.
Kouyou’s gaze softened, and she bit into her pastry daintily. Swallowing, she asked, “So tell me what your plans are, now that you are independent.”
Thursday: Dinner and Karaoke with the Armed Detective Agency (and Poe)
Dazai and Chuuya entered the Armed Detective Agency a very precisely calculated three minutes before the end of the workday, ensuring that they would not be late while minimizing the disruption they presented to the detectives. Granted, Kunikida was the only one who might mind having his work interrupted this close to the end of the day, but regardless, Dazai was feeling charitable.
As they were silent as they entered the bullpen, it took a minute for the detectives to notice their arrival, and they had an opportunity to observe Dazai’s former colleagues.
Dazai’s eyes skimmed past Junichirou at his desk, Naomi standing behind him, leaning over his shoulder. He took in Kenji standing next to Kyouka’s desk, speaking enthusiastically as Kyouka responded quietly, her focus clearly on Atsushi, who sat dejectedly at his own desk. Dazai made a note to quiz his young friend later, and moved on. His mouth curled up in a smile as his gaze passed on to Kunikida, sitting at his own desk carefully transcribing from his old notebook to the new one. Judging by how far into the books he was, he must be nearly done. Dazai turned his head to see Ranpo smirking conspiratorially at him, and Dazai grinned wickedly back.
As Ranpo turned his attention back to Poe, who was standing beside his desk, Yosano came out of the infirmary holding her bag.
“Hey, it’s the ringer,” she teased, and came over to get a hug from Chuuya.
“Ha fucking ha,” the redhead replied, hugging her back.
The other detectives all looked up as Yosano spoke, and began packing up for the day. Dazai and Chuuya greeted them as they approached.
“Kyouka, you look lovely,” Dazai said sincerely as the young girl joined them. “Did Kouyou help you pick that out?”
When Kyouka and Gin had come to the penthouse to make Valentine’s chocolates, Kyouka had mentioned that having outgrown her signature outfit, she was considering a new look. Clearly she had acted upon this plan, as she was wearing a new kimono, cerulean with white peonies and a white obi. Her long hair hung loose in the back, with the sides pulled up into a knot at the crown of her head so as not to compromise her peripheral vision. A silver hairpin with small white mother-of-pearl flowers pierced the knot.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dazai saw Atsushi’s eyes flit to Kyouka, pained, and then look away.
“Thank you,” Kyouka said softly, her cheeks pink and a note of pride in her voice. “And no, I chose it myself. She has not had much free time lately.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but Chuuya winced a bit.
“Well, you have great taste,” Chuuya said. “That color really suits you, and the hairstyle is great. I bet she’ll be proud when she sees you. You look so grown up.”
Atsushi’s shoulders hunched a little more.
Ah, Dazai thought. Kyouka was eighteen now, but her growth spurt - she had gained four inches in height in slightly over two years, and had begun to develop a more markedly feminine figure - had gone largely unnoticed by everyone due to the fact that she had continued to wear the same clothing and hairstyle that entire time. The sudden change in her wardrobe seemed to have caused Atsushi to really look at her, and he clearly didn’t know how to feel about the hitherto overlooked changes in his - ward? Rescuee? Friend? Roommate? Dazai settled on ‘companion’.
The other detectives chimed in enthusiastically, and as Kenji’s voice spoke up in admiration, Dazai didn’t fail to notice that Atsushi’s brows drew together, nor that he glanced quickly at Kenji, then away again.
Ah, Dazai thought again. Best that I stay out of it. “Kunikida!” he greeted his former partner cheerfully as the latter joined them.
“Sorry to hold everyone up,” Kunikida apologized. He looked over the group. “Everyone ready?” he asked.
There was a chorus of agreement, and the whole mob began migrating toward the doors.
Roughly an hour and a half later, the group reached the karaoke establishment. Dinner had been loud and rambunctious. Dazai had been a gentleman and ensured Chuuya was seated between the two people he knew best: himself and Yosano, and had himself ended up with Junichirou on his other side, a fact which meant the conversation had largely been limited to work anecdotes, leavened with a sprinkling of tales of Ranpo’s more entertaining antics. At least the frequent interruptions from Naomi on Junichirou’s other side, alternating between pouting and flirting to demand her brother’s attention, meant that Dazai had had plenty of opportunity to observe the others at the table, and eavesdrop on some of their conversations.
Upon reaching their final destination, for once Atsushi won the battle with Chuuya to hold the door for everyone, largely because Chuuya had made the reservation and thus was needed at the front of the group to check in. As ever with Chuuya at the helm, proceedings were efficient, and they were soon crowding down the hall to a twenty-person box similar to the one Yosano had reserved for their last outing.
Fresh from dinner, most of the group only ordered drinks (alcoholic or otherwise depending on age), with a couple of people, most notably Ranpo, ordering dessert, and as a result everyone was able to move on to song choices much more quickly than on their previous outing.
Chuuya, eager, asked Yosano, “Do you know what you want to sing?”
Yosano smiled wickedly and replied, “I’m thinking either Ms. Hyde by Halestorm, or S&M by Rihanna.”
Chuuya laughed out loud. “On brand,” he said. “I don’t know what to do myself. Legends Rise by Godsmack? Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen? Face Everything And Rise by Papa Roach? Monster Hunter by One OK Rock?”
He glanced up and saw Dazai watching him, amused. “What?” he asked.
“Just enjoying your enthusiasm,” Dazai said in a husky voice.
Chuuya’s toes curled at the voice, and he asked, “So what are you singing?”
Dazai’s smile deepened, as did his voice. “What would you like me to sing?”
“Huh?” Chuuya asked, scrunching his nose. “Why would I pick for you? You should be picking what you want to sing.”
Dazai stepped closer, looming over his husband, and bent to whisper in his ear. “What I want to sing is whatever will make you want to dance.” His lips brushed Chuuya’s ear as he spoke, and Chuuya turned bright red as warmth flushed through his body.
“Damn, I should have ordered popcorn,” Yosano drawled, and Chuuya blushed even harder and punched them both on the shoulder in turn as Dazai laughed warmly.
As people finished making their choices, they gravitated toward the sofas and chairs. As previously, the three couples - Ranpo and Poe, the Tanizakis, and Dazai and Chuuya - each staked out a loveseat. Kunikida and Yosano likewise shared a sofa, as they had done before, but sat much closer together as a couple than they had before they began dating. Dazai watched unobtrusively to see how the three younger detectives would sort themselves out.
Kyouka sat in the middle of a large sofa once again, hands folded on her lap, and Kenji followed and sat beside her, leaving plenty of elbow room between them. Atsushi’s eyes flickered over them and lowered, and he started to head toward a nearby chair.
Kyouka looked up at him, her expression inscrutable, and then she unfolded her hands and stretched one out to pat the seat to her other side.
Atsushi stopped. He looked at her hesitantly, and then changed direction and sat down on her other side, careful not to sit too close.
Kyouka returned her hands to her lap, and Atsushi sat bolt upright, hands clenching his knees. Kenji chattered brightly to the two of them, completely oblivious to their discomfort.
Dazai was relieved when the tension was broken by Yosano’s clear voice calling out, “Who wants to start?”, and then his relief turned to dread as Naomi grasped her brother’s hand and tugged him to his feet, dragging him to the front for another cringe-inducing duet.
As he had feared, she had been inspired by Chuuya’s dancing during Dazai’s turn at the microphone during the previous karaoke outing, and attempted to dance seductively at her brother as she sang. Fortunately or unfortunately, she did not have Chuuya’s natural talent and flexibility, nor his self-assurance, and her performance amounted to little more than some wiggling and swaying against Junichirou as he attempted to sing.
The rest of the group spent more time watching each other than watching the singers, and four interminable minutes later, the ordeal was over, and the siblings returned to their loveseat, indifferent to the polite applause, and set about making everyone else glad that Naomi had picked the one furthest back so that they didn’t have to witness the ensuing PDA.
Ranpo went next, and as Fallout Boy’s ‘My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark’ began, Chuuya learned firsthand just how right Dazai had been about Ranpo’s voice being suited to ballads but actively painful for more upbeat songs. Dazai was able to control his own body perfectly, and his expression remained pleasant, but he could see and feel his husband flinching occasionally throughout the performance. Nevertheless, Ranpo got a good solid round of applause and positive words afterward, for his enthusiasm if not his accuracy.
Poe selected “Kiss From A Rose” by Seal, and eyebrows rose throughout the room at his ambition. The assembled faces relaxed into amused smiles as Poe once again held the microphone far away and merely mouthed the words, producing virtually no sound at all. They all applauded sympathetically when the song was over, with the exception of Ranpo, who once again querulously scolded Poe for being too quiet.
Kunikida rose, and everyone whose family name was not Tanizaki leaned forward eagerly. He keyed in his song choice and then stood in front of Yosano, taking her hand in his as he sang Måneskin’s ‘The Driver’, his deep voice filled with passion. Yosano looked up at him, her face uncharacteristically soft and blushing, and the entire room, Tanizakis included, held their breath, spellbound. When the song was over, Dazai and Chuuya fumbled for each other’s hands as Kunikida bent, raising Yosano’s hand to his lips, and then released it to return the microphone to the table by the karaoke player. When he took his seat once again, Yosano snuggled closer, leaning her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm over her shoulders, heedless of those watching.
Dazai leaned down and murmured to Chuuya, “Looks like he took your advice.” Chuuya looked up at him, startled, and then remembered their last trip, and himself telling Kunikida that when he was ready to get a girlfriend he should serenade her.
Kyouka rose, and clearly Atsushi had followed Chuuya’s orders as well and introduced her to popular music, as instead of a lullaby this time she sang Shinedown’s ‘How Did You Love’, continuing the intense, serious mood Kunikida had begun. She sang with a surprising amount of passion, and garnered quite genuine applause as she finished.
Dazai gave Chuuya a lopsided smile. “That settles it, I’m going to keep the mood going.” He rose and went to the player, searching the classic rock section, and started up ‘Burning For You’ by Blue Oyster Cult.
“Yum,” Chuuya said, rising from his seat, and rose to join Dazai in the open area. As his husband sang to him, Chuuya’s body moved balletically, smoothly reaching and stretching, hips undulating to the sensual and poignant song. When it was over, Chuuya stretched up and kissed Dazai and sent him back to his seat, then input ‘Legends Rise’ and began singing.
Dazai wondered if Chuuya had noticed Atsushi’s deepening unhappiness with the number of love songs compounding the highly paired-off state of the group. If so, Chuuya’s rousing performance definitely shifted the mood, and Kenji continued the trend afterward, singing a folk song with no romantic overtones.
Somewhat cheered up, Atsushi took his turn, singing ‘Untraveled Road’ by Thousand Foot Krutch. Everyone clapped enthusiastically at the end, save for Naomi, who was too focused on her brother.
Finally it was Yosano’s turn to perform. Dazai was curious to see which of the two songs she had mentioned to Chuuya she would perform. Yosano wore a small smile as she typed in her selection.
As the highly identifiable musical intro started, Dazai and Chuuya exchanged delighted glances as they reached for each other’s hands again and squeezed. As Yosano began singing, they watched Kunikida instead as he blushed.
“Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods?
Where’s the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?
Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need.”
Yosano stalked forward to stand in front of Kunikida, reaching out commandingly.
“I need a hero! I’m holding out for a hero till the end of the night.
And he’s gotta be strong, and he’s gotta be fast, and he’s gotta be fresh from the fight.”
Yosano took Kunikida’s hand and dragged him to his feet, pulling him forward to stand in front as everyone whooped and cheered. As she continued singing, she stalked around him, her free hand dragging over his muscular arms and shoulders and chest, and he watched her, his eyes burning even more than his cheeks.
Chuuya was honestly impressed that Kunikida didn’t run back to hide on the sofa. Perhaps between him and Dazai inuring him to PDA, and Yosano broadening his mind, he was learning that his passion didn’t have to be limited to his ideals. A wry inner voice suggested, Or maybe it was just the sake. As the song finished, Chuuya joined Ranpo, Dazai, and Naomi in their chant of, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”, and to the delight of most of the party, Kunikida, face still flaming, took Yosano in his arms, bent her backward into a dip, and kissed her to the cheers of all and sundry.
“I don’t want to hear another word about this,” Kunikida began warning everyone, and then lunged for Dazai’s phone to delete the video, Dazai’s carefully calculated distraction giving Ranpo ample time to back his own up to the cloud and send it to the rest of the group.
When the uproar wore down, Naomi and Junichirou announced their departure, and made their farewells.
“We’ve still got the room for another hour,” Chuuya pointed out as Ranpo rose to his feet.
“I’ve had my fun,” Ranpo announced brashly, smirking at Kunikida. “See you at work tomorrow.” Poe stood as well, and the two left to a chorus of good-byes and waves.
Chuuya looked at the other sofa. “Atsushi, you guys are staying, right?”
Atsushi looked up at him and smiled. “I’ve had fun, but - I think I’m going to head home. I should get a good night’s sleep,” he said, “what with work tomorrow and everything.” He smiled wanly at Kunikida as he rose.
Kyouka stood as well, quickly followed by Kenji, and Atsushi ducked his head and said, “You don’t have to come with me. You can stay if you like.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “I would like to go home now, too.” She bowed her head to her seniors. “Thank you, I had a lovely evening.”
“Good to see you, too, Kyouka,” Chuuya said.
Dazai intercepted the younger trio. “Atsushi, what about your birthday? Are we still on to take you on your first bar outing?”
“Sure,” Atsushi said, his smile growing more sincere. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Glad to hear it,” Dazai said. “Can we pick you up after work on your birthday, or do you already have plans? We could take you a different day if that’s more convenient.”
“No, I don’t have plans,” Atsushi said. “My birthday would be fine.”
Kyouka’s lips pressed together and her eyes narrowed. Atsushi, facing Dazai and Chuuya, didn’t see.
“Good night, and thanks for everything,” Atsushi said, and turned toward the door, Kyouka and Kenji following.
The remaining four watched as the door closed behind them. Chuuya gave it about twenty seconds for them to get down the hall, and said, “So, Yosano, what the fuck is going on with Atsushi?”
Yosano, annoyed, said, “He’s got a moderate-to-severe case of Idiot Teenage Movie Trope Syndrome.”
“So he’s moping because Kyouka’s growing up?” Dazai speculated.
“Ish,” she replied. “He doesn’t know how he feels about it, and he doesn’t know how to handle it, and he’s feeling sorry for himself and isn’t paying any attention to how his behavior’s affecting her. I won’t claim that it’s a simple situation, or that there aren’t potential things to be concerned about, but - not the things he’s worrying about. And - idiot teenage movie trope again - if he’d just talk to her about the things he’s worried about, she could set him straight and he wouldn’t be worried any more. At least about those things.”
“Hm,” Chuuya said. “Has Kyouka got someone that she can talk to? Or is she stuck bottling all this up?” Kouyou was overworked in the wake of his departure and probably hadn’t had time to see Kyouka lately, and she wouldn’t be a good choice anyway, since she already wanted to kill Atsushi even when he was making Kyouka happy.
“I’ve made myself available to her to blow off steam,” Yosano said. “And I think she’s reaching the point where she’s about ready to take matters into her own hands, and start getting some of her own back.”
“Let me know if I should give him a talking-to,” Kunikida said heavily.
“Let’s leave you out of it unless it starts affecting his work,” Yosano decided. She shook her head vigorously and took Kunikida’s arm.
“All right, enough of this,” she said. “I was having a great evening and I don’t want it spoiled.” She looked up at Kunikida bewitchingly. “Let’s order the next round of drinks, and then-”
“Duets!” Chuuya chimed in enthusiastically.
Yosano grinned back fiercely, and the two couples bent their heads over the menu.
Saturday: Drinks with the Guys and Gin
Chuuya finished off his outfit for the evening with the choker that Dazai had given him for Christmas with the gold and ruby sun pendant. He checked his hair and then pocketed his wallet and keys and joined Dazai in the living room.
“Ready to go?” Dazai asked, rising from an armchair. His eyes went to Chuuya’s throat and he smiled darkly.
“Yes, and don’t look at me like that,” Chuuya said. “I need to check up on the guys, don’t tempt me.”
“Perish the thought,” Dazai said as they headed for the front door.
As they put their shoes on, Chuuya said, “I wonder why they picked Blue Moon. Why couldn’t we go to the Crystal Lounge like usual?”
“I assume that’s a rhetorical question,” Dazai said. “You know very well why.” He reached for the doorknob and held the door for his husband.
“What? No, I don’t,” Chuuya said, looking up at him sharply.
Dazai studied Chuuya’s expression and shut the door with them still inside. “Sweetheart,” he said. “The Port Mafia just lost its strongest asset. Its most loyal asset. Plus,” he waved his hand to gloss over everything else. “And while the immediate, technical reason was a violation of a truce, the truce only existed because your loyalty became divided. If you hadn’t fallen in love with me and, more importantly, decided that your feelings for me took precedence over your oath to the Port Mafia, you would still be there.”
Chuuya scowled. “I’m not gonna feel guilty about that.”
“Good,” Dazai said with a sideways smile. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel guilty. Moving on. You must know how popular you were, and possibly still are, within the Port Mafia. Yes?”
Chuuya reddened. “Mmph,” he said.
“Then surely you can understand that Mori has to worry about the possibility that there are people who love or admire you and would choose loyalty to you over loyalty to the Port Mafia. He can’t afford that.” Dazai tilted his head, evaluating whether or not Chuuya had already reached the correct conclusion. Just to be certain, he clarified, stating baldly, “Your friends have chosen the Blue Moon because it’s a Port Mafia bar, so that their interaction with you - and even more so, their interaction with traitor me, who was your downfall and the downfall of the Port Mafia - is public and easily monitored, so that their loyalty is verifiable and openly demonstrated.”
“Expect that we’ll be bugged,” he added, and opened the door once more, stepping through and waiting for Chuuya.
Chuuya sighed and followed him. “Damn it.”
As Dazai locked the door and walked to the elevator with him, he reassured Chuuya. “Don’t worry about it. You’re not trying to overthrow Mori, or bring down the Port Mafia, or lure away any other Port Mafia resources to work for us. We’ve already said we wouldn’t accept anyone in our company even if they asked. Being monitored doesn’t change anything.”
“Huh?” Chuuya asked, confused. “Oh, no, the ‘damn it’ wasn’t about being bugged. I’m bummed because this means we won’t be going back to the Crystal Lounge any time soon with the guys now, and the Blue Moon doesn’t have as good a dance floor or sound system.”
“Ah, excellent,” Dazai said, smiling widely as they entered the elevator. “I’m glad you have your priorities straight.” He pressed the button for the lobby and then backed Chuuya up into the wall of the elevator. Chuuya grinned up at him through the kiss, wrapping his arms around Dazai’s neck as the doors closed.
Chuuya and Dazai were the first of the group to reach Blue Moon. They split up so that Chuuya could exchange greetings with a few of his former colleagues and then stake them out a table, while Dazai collected their first round of drinks.
As Chuuya began his first safe and innocuous, “Good to see you, hope you’re doing well,” he glanced over at the bar at Dazai’s back. He was familiar enough with his partner’s posture that he didn’t need to see the look of terror on the bartender’s face to know that Dazai was very convincingly - because he was sincere, and meant every word - threatening the bartender with unspeakable - or, technically, unspeakable by anyone but the Demon Prodigy - tortures leading to a slow and agonizing death, should any of Chuuya’s drinks get poisoned or otherwise spiked.
Guess I better get used to that, Chuuya thought, resigned. He moved on, waving to a casual acquaintance as he made his way to a trio of his former subordinates.
As he chatted briefly with them, clapping one on the shoulder, he observed out of the corner of his eye that Dazai was still standing at the bar, watching hawklike as the bartender picked up an already-clean wine glass and washed it thoroughly, then dried it with a fresh towel he took from a drawer. He set the clean glass down on a tray and started stacking sake cups on it.
Jesus, fucking idiot, he thought, mildly annoyed, as he noted that Dazai didn’t take any extreme, paranoid precautions with the sake cups. The bartender added a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and several bottles of sake to the tray, and Dazai started a tab and then reached for the tray.
“You guys keep having fun and kicking ass. I gotta get back to my dipshit over there,” Chuuya said, jerking his head in Dazai’s direction. His former subordinates laughed and fist-bumped him, and he turned to meet Dazai at a table carefully calculated to be most easily observed.
“Dumbass,” he greeted Dazai as his husband approached.
“Vigilant,” Dazai reproved darkly, and then glanced toward the door and lifted the tray a little higher and in that direction as if presenting it.
Chuuya turned to see Tanaka and Sato entering. They grinned upon seeing Dazai had already acquired drinks, and came straight for the table.
As Dazai set the tray down and began placing the cups around the table, Chuuya reached out to side-hug his friends. Sato accepted his hug with a comically cautious look at Dazai, who simply smiled, unbothered.
“Inoue having to work late?” Chuuya asked. “Will he still be able to make it?”
“He’ll be here,” Tanaka assured him. “Everybody’s busy as hell, but he’s getting it worse than most. I expect he’ll be here any minute.”
“Any minute, indeed,” Dazai said with a pleased smile. “I’ll be right back.” He rose and headed for the bar as Chuuya turned to see Inoue and Gin heading for their table.
Chuuya smiled in genuine delight. As the Black Lizard squad leaders reached the table, he stood to side-hug Inoue and said to Gin, “This is great, I was wondering when you were gonna start showing up to these.”
Gin, still dressed in her work paraphernalia, removed her mask and smirked impishly. “Well, work has been crazy since someone overturned the apple cart, and Inoue hardly ever has time off. Not going to let you monopolize my boyfriend’s precious free time.” Her sweet voice made a delightful contrast to her brash words.
Dazai returned from the bar and placed an additional sake cup in front of her. He set another bottle of sake in the middle of the table and teased, “I know you’re going to wipe out the first three bottles, so this one’s for the rest of us.”
“Better hurry, then,” she said daintily, reaching for one of the bottles and efficiently opening it. Despite her words, she poured for everyone.
As she did so, Dazai inspected the wine bottle carefully, then opened it and passed it to Chuuya, who rolled his eyes.
“This is gonna get old real fast,” he said.
“Oh, well,” replied Dazai with a hint of steel.
Everyone raised their cups and glass. “Kanpai,” they chorused, and drank.
Chuuya looked around the table, his expression soft. “I’m glad the Boss is letting you still talk to me,” he said with disarming sincerity.
Inoue was not in Dazai or Ranpo’s class, but he was still an excellent strategist, and clearly understood what he could and could not say. “Things are changing,” he admitted. “Nobody will be allowed to date an enemy in the future. And friendships with people who could potentially be considered an enemy will be heavily restricted,” he said, echoing Kouyou. “They will be limited to situations where the relationship could be of measurable benefit to the Port Mafia, and the Port Mafia personnel in question will have to undergo loyalty screenings, both before the friendship is approved and on a periodic basis for the duration the friendship persists.”
“Oof,” Chuuya said. He glanced back and forth between Inoue and Gin. “Is this affecting relationships entirely within the mafia, too?”
“Not really,” Gin said. “People are allowed to date, but if either party tries to leave the Port Mafia, they’ll be executed. Which was already the case; the only difference now is that the other party will be the one carrying out the execution. Or if they both decide to leave together, then the Boss will make an example of them before he executes them both.”
A hostage situation, Chuuya thought. Well, Gin wasn’t wrong. The punishment for leaving the Port Mafia had always been execution. He glanced at the sole exception.
Dazai looked back at him and smiled wryly.
Chuuya smiled crookedly back. Well, Dazai had always been exceptional. Exceptionally valuable, and exceptionally dangerous. Worth allowing to live, in the hope that the Port Mafia could one day lure him back. Too dangerous to kill, because even if he was possibly working against you now, you sure as fuck didn’t want him really pissed.
Turning his attention back to Inoue and Gin, he raised his glass. “Well, you two are safe, then. I know neither of you would ever betray the mafia in any way.”
Everyone raised their glasses again. “Kanpai.”
Chuuya poured himself some more wine. “So, Tanaka, you still seeing that security specialist?”
Dazai and Chuuya entered their apartment just after midnight, mildly buzzed. They locked the door and removed their shoes and coats.
Chuuya aimed himself toward the kitchen. “I need to get a Gatorade into me before I go to sleep,” he said, planning ahead to minimize his eventual hangover.
“Mmm, water for me,” Dazai said, following along.
As they sat at the kitchen table and rehydrated, Dazai mustered a doe-eyed look and beseeched, “Sleep in tomorrow?”
Chuuya snorted. “You don’t have to give me Bambi eyes,” he said. “I’m gonna be whipped, too.” He swigged some more Gatorade. “We can sleep in, and then order brunch from the restaurant downstairs, and then have a nice long soak.”
“Sounds good,” Dazai said contentedly, moving his leg to lean his knee against Chuuya’s.
Chuuya pressed his leg against Dazai's in return. “Yeah,” he said.