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In the darkness of his sleep, Chuuya wasn't a man; he was a hollow vessel. He stood in a void where gravity had no meaning, and his skin felt like cold, cracking porcelain. Every time he tried to scream, no sound came out—only a dark, swirling red energy that threatened to tear his throat apart. He could see his hands beginning to dissolve into that same red void, his fingers lengthening into monstrous claws that didn't belong to him. You aren't real, a voice hissed from the shadows of his own mind. You're just a god's mistake wearing a human mask.
He reached out for anything to hold onto, but his hands passed through everything like smoke. He was falling inward—collapsing into the center of a black hole that smelled of ozone and old blood.
Then, the world shattered.
Chuuya never felt this weak before. He felt as though every breath he took felt like a jagged blade scraping against the inside of his chest, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The phantom cold of the void was still clinging to his skin, and his mind was still half-convinced he was dissolving, making him claw at the sheets just to feel something solid. However, despite that fact, he still gasped for air—that simple action brought him much comfort, as breathing was a subconscious action humans do.
The simple action of breathing comforted Chuuya, reassuring him that he was human…that he was alive. However, these doubts simply cannot fade, of course, as that alone isn't enough to fully convince Chuuya of his “humanity”.
He swallowed down large, deep chunks of air, attempting to calm his ragged breathing. Slowly, the suffocating pressure on his ribs loosened, and his breathing—once a desperate, clawing struggle—smoothed out into a slow, rhythmic ebb and flow. Chuuya opened his eyes–which he did not know were closed in the first place as he seemed to have been able to see well just a while ago—and registered the warm presence surrounding him. He grunted, squinting his eyes as light flashed upon them.
“Ugh...oi, you jerk, turn off the light..” Chuuya said, his voice hoarse and his head pounding as if someone were slamming a hammer against his skull. “Oh? Is that how you should repay your husband after he saved you like a knight in shining armor from the nightmare you were having? Gosh, how could a human be this cruel?” the man dramatically sighed as he loosened his arms around the latter, the familiar bandages on his forearms brushing against Chuuya’s skin.
Chuuya didn't snap back immediately. He just sat there for a second, his gaze unfocused and his chest still heaving with the remnants of that phantom terror. The room felt too bright, and Dazai’s voice sounded like it was coming from the other end of a long, metallic tunnel. He blinked slowly, his brain struggling to bridge the gap between the red void of his dream and the familiar, annoying warmth of the man sitting beside him. He looked down at his hands, almost expecting to see them dissolving into smoke again, but they were solid—shaky, pale, and very much human.
Only when Dazai poked his cheek with a childish grin did the static in Chuuya’s head finally clear. Reality came rushing back in the form of a sharp, familiar irritation.
“Pfft. You’re such a dramatic little asshole,” Chuuya finally croaked out, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. He forced himself to push the nightmare into the back of his mind, completely focusing on his husband. “The only little thing here is you, shrimp!~”
“You fucking—”
Chuuya immediately slithered out of the other’s hold and attempted to punch the bastard of a husband, who easily saw it coming and dodged it while chuckling with that irritating, melodic laugh that always got under Chuuya's skin.“Now, now, doggy. Let's behave for a while, yeah?” Chuuya was fuming.
“Dazai, you bastard!—” Ignoring the pounding pain in his head, Chuuya launched forward and tried to land a hit on Dazai, when the exhaustion from the recent nightmare he had just a few moments ago caught up to him, rendering him weak. Right now, all he wanted was to collapse and sleep.
He squinted his eyes in hopes of reducing the pain. “Fuck..” holding his head, he forcibly opened his eyes to look at Dazai—who in Chuuya's beliefs, was definitely the reason for his headache. “Ugh…fucking bastard..”
Chuuya didn't have the strength to pull away a second time. His body felt like lead, and the bed felt like the only thing keeping him from shattering. He let his head fall back against the pillow, his eyes fluttering shut against the harsh light of the room.
"You're a mess," Dazai muttered, though his hands were surprisingly steady as he gripped Chuuya’s shoulders, guiding him back down into the sheets. "Look at you. You can't even land a single punch without falling over. How am I supposed to keep a dog that’s this broken?"
"Shut up..." Chuuya breathed, the word trailing off into a tired sigh.
Dazai sighed as he got up and flicked the lights closed, plunging the room into a soft, merciful darkness before walking back towards the bed. He crawled over to Chuuya, the mattress dipping under his weight. “Chuu, look at me” the brunette whispered as he wrapped his arms around the latter. Chuuya immediately relaxed into the touch, leaning into it even. He hummed in response, closing his eyes as he exhaled a deep, content sigh.
“Chuu.. don't ignore me..” Dazai softly whined, nuzzling his face into the messy red curls at the nape of Chuuya's neck. “Go to sleep, stupid.. isn't it like, 11:50 something..?”
Dazai glanced over at the clock, the digital numbers glowing faintly in the dark, and grinned as he pecked the other's cheek. “It's 11:57 PM.” Dazai snuggled closer to Chuuya, inhaling his scent—that mix of expensive wine and laundry detergent that always felt like home.“..Just go to sleep.” the smaller man replied, his consciousness drifting off as he fell asleep to the steady, grounding rhythm of Dazai's heartbeat.
Dazai chuckled as soft beeping resonated from his phone, cutting through the silence of the room. He turned off the alarm he set and gently pressed a kiss onto the sleeping beauty next to him.
“Happy birthday, slug.”