Work Text:
The world felt darker than usual, maybe it was the alcohol making him hazy or perhaps the way people started calling him kid’. He wasn't a kid. He was Dazai Osamu. The feared demon prodigy and youngest executive, not some stupid ‘kid’.
The shadow had covered his mind faster than he could blink. Focusing on missions became harder and every subordinate was punished harder. He couldn’t continue a normal conversation without snapping at someone for their incompetence, which led to his breakdown.
He locked himself in his room and just rotted in bed. He didn’t even bother cleaning himself or changing clothes.
He slept 20 hours a day and spend the rest on the time either having a panic attack or reaching for the blade.
It had become a rusty thing, full of old blood and dirt. Every new wound became infected almost immediately from the use of it.
---
Chuuya had ignored Dazai at first, the mackerel was almost snappy and those subordinates deserved it if they messed up a mission, right?
Chuuya just went on with his normal routine, only one thing changed. Dazai didn’t participate in their joint mission anymore, he insisted on going alone and always got seriously injured.
Chuuya reached his breaking point when Dazai locked himself in his room, he stormed to Mori’s office and demanded the man to intervene before Dazai did something irreversible.
***“What do you want me to do about it, Chuuya-kun? Dazai won’t learn to swim if he doesn’t drown first.”***
The way the man had said it, so cold, made Chuuya suspect he had something to do with all of it, but what proof did he have?
Chuuya hadn’t replied and tried to go to Dazai’s room but Mori bombarde him with work he couldn’t possibly ignore. The man was trying to keep him away from Dazai, Chuuya played along obediently at first. Going on missions, eliminating targets, giving orders, but with every new day that Dazai didn’t return the worry ate at him from within.
it had taken Chuuya 5 days before he finally dumped the work onto Hirotsu and barged towards Dazai’s room.
---
Chuuya knocked on the door at first.
“Dazai? Oi! Open up!” The redhead called out, he couldn’t hide the sneer in his tone. He was angry at him for just disappearing and leaving Chuuya alone.
The door never opened.
Only the sound of rustling sheets was heard, the only sign of a beating heart in there.
Chuuya sighed and just kicked the door down instead, it probably wasn’t even locked but who cared.
Chuuya looked around the room, it was dark. The lights were off and the curtains pulled tightly closed. The floor was littered with empty beer bottles and tissues full of blood. And right there on the futon was a curled up figure, hidden under the dirty sheets.
Chuuya approached the futon and just observed. Dazai looked almost pitiful like this and it was hard for Chuuya to not just laugh at him outright. The young man who had manipulated his friends into thinking and betraying him and using that to force him to join the Port Mafia, and then the whole stormbringer ordeal. Dazai had let him get tortured and planned for his friends to die just to save himself. And now reduced to *this.*
Chuuya debated to just walk out right now, maybe this is what he deserved. The boy was a prick, a jerk. He deserved to suffer like this once in a while too. Yet Chuuya had grown quite.. *attached*, in a way. He didn’t want to get attached after what happened to the sheep, and the flags. Yet here was.
He crouched down to lean his knees on the futon that creaked under his weight, definitely dirty, Chuuya thought and pulled the blanket down slightly to reveal Dazai’s face.
The boy was asleep, eyes closed but not entirely relaxed. Dark circles lived under his eyes like tattoo’s, did he sleep enough? His lips were slightly parted that let out breath that just reeked of alcohol.
Chuuya sighed and picked him up in a bridal carry and his head lolled against Chuuya’s chest with a sleepy hum.
Chuuya started walking away with the boy in his arms to get him to a proper room, *Chuuya’s room*.
---
Chuuya brought Dazai to the bathroom attached to his room and laid him down in the tub, preparing to clean him first because there was no way Chuuya would let him sleep in his neatly made bed smelling like a homeless man.
Chuuya peeled off Dazai’s crusty pyjama’s and just threw them in the trash. The bandages were a bit harder, they were full of dried blood snd sweat stains.
Chuuya couldn’t stop his breath from hitching when he saw the skin under the bandages, sure he knew the boy had a habit of self-harming but these wounds looked.. *wrong*.
Most of the wounds were deep. Dried crimson still clinging to the edges and the wounds itself looked badly infected.
Chuuya had to pause for a second before he gently cleaned each wound, swiping a cotton swab over the dried blood.
Chuuya started the shower to wash Dazai’s bare body that hadn't been cleaned in two weeks at best. He washed through Dazai’s curls and made sure to wipe every spot of his body. His chest, his back, his arms, his waist, between his legs and his feet. Not a single spot remained untouched.
Than he applied fresh bandages and wrappings to the wound. This wasn’t the first time he wrapped Dazai up so he knew how the boy wanted it.
Chuuya dressed Dazai in a spare set of pyjamas. A simple shortsleeved white shirt with black shorts then laid him down on the bed and covered him with the blanket. Chuuya observed Dazai’s face as he laid in an actual clean bed with clean clothes. His face was more relaxed now, face no longer scrunched up. He even curled up slightly into himself under the sheets.
Chuuya wiped Dazai’s bangs up using his hand then pressed a kiss to his forehead and pulled away again to leave the room, but a sudden tug on his sleeve stopped him.
Dazai was looking at him with tired yet pleading eyes.
“Don’t go..” Dazai said quietly, his eyes seemed glossy but it could also be tears welling up.
Chuuya stopped and just looked at his face then walked back and took off his shoes to climb into bed beside Dazai who immediately curled up against him.
Chuuya wrapped his arms around the boy who suddenly looked a whole lot smaller then Chuuya, “***which is hard with how short the slug is!***, is what Dazai would say if he was better.
Chuuya chuckled to himself and Dazai noticed, looking up with a slight pout on his face that looked pathetic with his tired eyes.
“why are you laughing..?” Dazai mumbled.
“dont worry about it Mackerel.. go to sleep.” Chuuya presses his lips to Dazai’s forehead who immediately relaxes and falls asleep.
Chuuya didn’t let him out of his sight for the next few weeks.