Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chuuya opened the door as quietly as he could, stepping inside and hanging his coat on the rack next to the door, which Dazai had bought in order to tease him.

“Dazai, are you home?” he called out softly, ears straining to hear a response. Seeing his lover earlier than initially planned was the entire reason he’d caught an earlier flight home, but maybe he was busy working a case for the Agency?

It would be disappointing, considering how much Chuuya had been looking forward to their reunion, but it wasn’t like he’d made his plan to get home early known, so he could hardly blame Dazai if he wasn’t there to meet him.

After a few seconds of no response, he sighed, setting down his luggage by the door for the time being and heading to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine, since he hadn’t had the chance to indulge during his trip.

At least that was his intention until he saw he saw their knives scattered across the counters, a few of them on the floor.

Even if Chuuya had already been drunk when he came in, he was sure that the shot of pure ice that he felt shoot through his bloodstream would’ve shocked him sober.

“D-Dazai?!” he breathed out in horror, mind immediately going to the worst case (and unfortunately not unlikely given the man in question) scenario as his eyes darted around the room in a desperate hope that the mess wasn’t there for the reason he feared, but a sign of struggle from Dazai getting kidnapped (also not unlikely), because that would mean that there was still a chance that he was—

He was running through the apartment before he’d even realized he was moving, quickly sweeping all of the rooms and hoping beyond hope that he wouldn’t be met with the sight that his nightmares were made of.

The bathroom was clean, living room, office (where there were technically two desks but only his was used more than once in a blue moon), the balcony…

But then he came to their bedroom, forcing himself to open the door.

Only to find the room a disaster, but not in the way he would have anticipated.

Clothes and boxes and random odds and ends were strewn all over the floor, and Chuuya’s first instinct would have been to wonder if they had been robbed, but their security was the best money could buy and why were Dazai’s bandages on the floor, too?!

Dazai never went ANYWHERE without being wrapped in the accursed things.

A glint of gold caught his eye, and Chuuya looked closer to see a key, not even an inch from the closed closet door.

Now that he thought about it, all of the things on the floor had previously been in that closet, right? Aside from the bandages…

Heart pounding wildly in his chest, Chuuya swiftly picked up the key and raised it to the lock.

Dazai must have locked himself inside before pushing the key out through the gap under the door.

And there was Dazai, naked as the day he was born, trembling slightly from the cold, but alive.

“C-Chuuya?” he croaked as his eyes slowly fluttered open, arm coming up slowly as if to reach for him.

“Oh my god.” Chuuya couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down his face if he tried, feared Port Mafia executive or not, at the near suffocating relief he felt at that moment.

He didn’t hesitate to lean forward and pull the shaking man into his arms, grabbing the edge of one of the blankets outside the closet so that he could wrap the other man up. How long had he been in there, to get so cold?

Dazai burrowed his face into Chuuya’s neck as he was enveloped in not only the warmth of the fabric, but Chuuya’s own. “You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you to be home for another eight hours or so.”

“I came back to you as quickly as I could.” Chuuya replied immediately, brushing a kiss again the other’s forehead as his mind whirred with questions.

“So that’s why you didn’t answer.” Dazai hummed in acknowledgement. “That explains it.”

Chuuya froze, recalling the missed call he’d seen once he landed, which he hadn’t bothered to call back since he was almost there anyway. “Dazai—”

“Don’t you dare.” Dazai pulled himself up a bit to give Chuuya his own kiss, this time a sweet peck on the lips, chaste, something that even just months ago Chuuya would never have expected him to be capable of.

“But you needed me, didn’t you?” Chuuya’s voice was thick with tears.

“I’ll always need you.” Dazai smiled slightly, content in his arms. “And here you are. You couldn’t have possibly known anything was wrong, and yet you still managed to get yourself home to me.”

A sob broke out of Chuuya’s chest as he curled Dazai even closer to him.

If he had come home to find Dazai’s body, Chuuya didn’t know what he would have done, and he felt like the luckiest man alive that, at least for the time being, he wouldn’t have to find out.

Because when Dazai had recognized that his mind was leading him down that path, he had removed himself from the situation as best as he could, finding somewhere safe to lock himself away, without any access to anything he could use to hurt himself.

Hence the mess.

“Why no clothes?”

“I…I didn’t want to risk it.” Dazai swallowed. “My mind was running through all of the different ways I could do it, and I realized that if I had even just my bandages with me I could try and strangle myself, or hang myself from the light fixture. Given enough time I could have starved or something, but I knew you were supposed to be home today. If your return was delayed, I’d have called someone at the Agency.”

Indeed, there was Dazai’s cell phone right beside him, apparently the only thing he’d brought into the closet with him.

Chuuya hugged him even tighter before readjusting his arm to pick Dazai up, carrying him to the bed and setting him down gently before grabbing some undergarments for the other to put on and starting to gather the bandages still laying on the floor.

“Do you want these right now?” he asked the other.

Dazai stared at the bandages for a long moment before glancing away, silently shaking his head.

Suicide attempts were a part of life when it came to Dazai—since before Chuuya had even met him, but this was the first time he was aware of that Dazai actively took steps to prevent it.

And Chuuya had no idea what to do with that.

“How long were—” Chuuya cut himself off, anxiety building as he tried to figure out what Dazai needed. “Do you need water? Food? I should—”

He took a step in the direction of the kitchen, but Dazai managed to catch hold of his hand, and there was nothing in the world that would make Chuuya pull away from him right now.

“I’m fine, I was only in there for a few hours.” Dazai assured him, pulling Chuuya onto the bed beside him, which Chuuya didn’t put up an ounce of fight against, instead kicking off his shoes and getting under the blanket as well. “I’m just…tired.”

He didn’t ask Chuuya to stay, not verbally, but Chuuya knew Dazai better than he even knew himself, and he heard the silent plea as clearly as if he’d screamed it.

“A nap sounds perfect, actually.” He said softly.

“You’ve never dealt with jetlag well.” Dazai agreed, neither of them acknowledging the fact that they both knew this was more for Dazai’s sake than Chuuya’s.

At this point it didn’t matter though, and the pair didn’t hesitate to snuggle as close as they could, foreheads touching and a hand on the other’s chest, right above their partner’s heart. It had become a ritual since they got together, and on a stressful day like this they needed the comfort more than ever.

“Why?” Chuuya whispered into his lover’s chest after a long moment, feeling the steady heartbeat, his favorite feeling in the world. “What changed?”

“I finally realized that I have something to live for.” He answered, equally quiet, and Chuuya may not have been the kind of genius Dazai was, but he didn’t have to be to realize that Dazai was referring to him. “Between that and the promise I made to never leave you again, I could hardly have done otherwise.”

“I don’t recall you promising me anything.” Chuuya’s lips trembled, causing Dazai to lean forward slightly and cover them with his own slightly chapped (and still cold) lips.

When Dazai broke the kiss, he continued. “I never said it out loud. You wouldn’t have had any reason to believe me. Besides, actions have always spoken louder than words between the two of us.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Chuuya probably wouldn’t have believed the words if Dazai had said them, considering how hurt he’d been by the other leaving the Port Mafia (and more specifically him) behind, so he could hardly blame the other for realizing that.

But now…now that he had concrete proof that Dazai wanted an actual future with him, had apparently given up his wish of dying, or at least no longer intended to act on it…

Well, that was the best gift Chuuya could possibly have gotten.

“I believe you now.” He felt another tear run down his face and settle uncomfortably on the side of his nose as the last bits of doubt fell away, which Dazai wiped away with another tender kiss.

Maybe, just maybe, they weren’t living on borrowed time after all.