Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Holy shit.”

Nakahara Chuuya dropped his phone the second he heard the call end. Instead of going to grab it before his screen cracked for the millionth time, he just stood there dumbfounded. His brain was absolutely empty, yet at the same time, it was flooding with a million different thoughts. He was completely frozen.

“Ay, Chuuya- everything okay in here?” His roommate opened his door without knocking (rude), peeking his head in to see Chuuya standing there with his hand near his cheek as if the phone was still there. “Uh… are you good?”

“I got a callback,” Chuuya whispered, saying it out loud for the first time. He turned his head towards Tachihara, who was staring at him in confusion. Then a little louder, “I got a fucking callback.”

The moment that Tachihara understood, his eyes widened with realization and he immediately ran to Chuuya with a large smile, “Holy shit, man! I’m so proud of you!”

Chuuya let himself be engulfed by the hug, also smiling like an idiot now that it finally set in for him. He got a fucking callback.

The callback in question was for a movie based on a book that Chuuya had never really cared for but was everywhere in the press. It was titled ‘Stray Dogs’ and had made a name for being one of the best LGBTQ+ books of the century, as well as a wonderful romance in general. The storyline followed Kashimura Kensuke as he dealt with his own internalized homophobia being a gay man in Japan and his feelings for Tsushima Shuji, whom he’d met in his classical literature course. And somehow, Chuuya had managed to land a callback for the lead role.

Sakaguchi Ango, the director, had explained to him that he would not need to prepare anything for the callback. He would simply have to show up at the address given tomorrow at eight AM sharp (and was informed that they would fly in anyone who needed a plane to that city, which was insanely cool to Chuuya, despite him not needing one) and from there, he would be given a script and have to have chemistry checks with people who had gotten callbacks for roles such as his sister and love interest. From there, he would get another call within the week that let him know if he had gotten the part or if he wasn’t going to be in the production (or if they wanted to put him in a different role, for whatever reason).

This was Chuuya’s first movie- nay, it was his first time ever acting. He’d never done as much as sing as an extra in a school musical, nevertheless starred as the lead role in one of the most talked-about books’ movie adaptation. It wasn’t even his idea to audition- rather Gin’s girlfriend was on the staff and they were trying to get people to audition. Not that they needed any more people than they would already get just because of how popular everyone knew this movie would be.

After coming down from his high, he grabbed Tachihara by the shoulders and pulled him away, finally realizing the immense panic of this situation. “Oh, shit. I can’t do this. Why did I agree to this? Why did you tell me to auditio-”

“Hey, calm it,” Tachihara grabbed his shoulders in response, trying to still him from the shaking that he was subconsciously doing. “If you got a callback, that was for a reason. You’re good, Chuuya- Hell, I saw your audition clip, so I know you’re good. Don’t worry too hard about it. Just go in there tomorrow and do your thing. You’ve got this.”

“What if I get the role, though?” Chuuya shuddered in worry. “That’s somehow scarier.”

“Ay, that’s for later. For now, it’s a damn good night to celebrate,” he smiled, nudging Chuuya. “What do ya say? Just us, Gin, Higuchi, and the bar?”

And Chuuya can’t pass up drinking.

– – –

Most of the chemistry checks were, in all honesty, not great.

There were only two different characters that he had to be checked with and many people called back for each. They’d decided to start with his older sister, Kashimura Fuku, and paired people up randomly. From there, if they took interest in you specifically but not who you were paired with, Sakaguichi explained, they would rematch to see if you had better chemistry with another actor. Fuku was an important character in the story, as Kensuke had no other parental roles since they both died at a young age. Fuku took care of him and raised him on her own, so they had to get along properly. She was a nurturing and calm character in comparison to Kensuke’s fiery and impulsive self.

Chuuya was paired up with someone he’d never heard of as an actor, which made him feel at least a little bit calmer. She didn’t seem too much older than him, but she had such a mature aura about her that he couldn’t be too sure. Her blue hair was held up in a bun and she was wearing a suit- shit, should I have worn something more professional looking? Chuuya looked down at his own outfit, questioning his earlier choices. He’d thought that something casual would be nice, but were the leather jacket and choker overdoing it?

“I’m Tsujimura Mizuki,” the woman smiled at him, reaching out a hand for him to shake. He took it clumsily.

“Nakahara Chuuya,” he smiled back, praying she couldn’t feel how sweaty his palms were. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

…

Silence.

Well, he supposed it wasn’t silent, due to the bustling energy all around him that made him feel somehow worse. He looked around at the other people called back for the two roles, seeing if there were any actors that he recognized. (There were a lot.) Notably, he saw Nakajima Atsushi- an up-and-coming actor who’d made his debut very recently in an action film. Another person there was Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, and while he wouldn’t consider Ryuu a famous actor, he was Gin’s brother, so Chuuya was friendly with him (though friendly was the most underexaggerated way to put it- Ryuu was a little brother to him). For the role of Fuku, Chuuya didn’t know if there were more than two that he didn’t immediately recognize, but the one that made him absolutely petrified was Ozaki Kouyou herself. His favorite actress of all time was in the same room as him, sitting within ten meters of him, auditioning for a part that could be his sister.

With his fears successfully increasing tenfold, he and his partner were called back.

Sitting there in front of him were three people, all with notebooks and pencils, scribbling down information from the last duo. When the new two had entered, the one in the center looked up and handed out a piece of paper for Chuuya and Tsujimura to grab. “Hello, I’m your director, Sakaguchi Ango. Here are the scripts for you two to read. Go ahead whenever you’re ready.”

Sakaguchi Ango was a lot younger than Chuuya’d expected. That fact calmed him just a little bit more.

It started on Chuuya’s line, calling her in tears after finding Shuji with a girl. He looked to see that Tsujimura was ready, and when she gave a nod, he held his phone up to his ear as if he were calling someone. She did the same. “Ane-san!” he sighed in relief as she picked up.

“Kensuke? Is everything okay?” she responded, more monotoned than worried. Chuuya would make due.

He choked back a sob hearing her voice, sniffling before speaking, “He- I thought that he…”

“Calm down, darling. Calm down. Deep breaths,” Chuuya tried to follow her breathing but kept crying.

“I thought that he cared… about me,” he spoke when he finally found his voice but then broke down worse at his own words.

“Where are you? I’m on my way,” she spoke through the phone, her voice not showing too much more emotion. Was Chuuya overdoing it?

“I’m at the park. I just- I didn’t know where else to go and we were at the club for Michiko’s birthday and I was drinking and I was looking around and I saw him so I was going to go up and talk but then this girl-” He was cut off by his own harsh sobs.

The scene continued with Fuku making it to the park and engulfing Kensuke in a hug and calming him as he cried. Really, it was a beautiful scene and Chuuya completely understood the need for connection between these characters. Unfortunately, he doesn’t think that he has that with Tsujimura. Nevertheless, he still shakes her hand again and bows when they part.

After that scene started a long waiting period. It wasn’t more than half an hour, since there really weren’t too many people at callbacks, but it was certainly long enough to make him nervous. But he ended up being assigned another person to have a chemistry check with, and that seemed to be good enough for now.

Yosano Akiko was the person in question, which made Chuuya literally drop his jaw. Tsujimura made Chuuya nervous simply because she looked professional, but Yosano was at a new level, not to mention that she was a known person. Not only did she star in hundreds of popular movies and shows, but she was also recognized as one of the most beautiful women of the century. On top of that, she had a spike in popularity due to recent dating scandals with another actor. Everything about her screamed experience and beauty. (And God, she was even prettier in real life than she was in pictures.)

Since this was his second time going through the scene, as well as having a more expressive partner, he’d say it went better.

While he knew there was a chance that they would want to see more from him and a possible sister, the last thing he’d expected was to perform a scene with the Ozaki Kouyou. And even less expected- he swore that it went well.

Well enough that she stopped him after walking out of the room, smiling at him, “Good job, Nakahara. I hope to work with you.”

Somehow, in the blur of Chuuya’s mind, he managed to bow (90 degrees, not one degree less) and blurt out a very strong and panicked, “Thank you, Ozaki!” before running away.

Perhaps the scariest thing, though, is that no matter how well he did with Ozaki Kouyou, none of that matters if he has zero chemistry with any of the people playing Shuji. And it really seemed like they wanted Chuuya as Kensuke because he had to read the same script over and over with more people than he could’ve imagined. As much as that should be comforting to him, the absolute lack of chemistry was shocking- why couldn’t he seem to match with a single one of them? At some point, it just seemed futile. Maybe he should just give it up and go home. It wasn’t like he needed to find Shuji attractive, but it felt like none of the other actors had the same passion that Kensuke and Shuji were written to have. They were rivals and lovers- they needed to feel not only the sexual tension but also the underlying affection that they had for each other. But nope. It was all futile.

After his fifth time going through the scene, most of the other Kensuke auditioners already gone, they’d allowed him to leave the room for a break. And hell, he needed one. The first few went the same as the ones with Fuku, but after the third, they just kept him in the room while other Shujis would enter. He assumed that they were going to take his three-minute break to decide if it was worth even having Chuuya act at the expense of having little to no chemistry with the love interest, in which Chuuya would tell them that they should just hire someone who actually knows what the fuck they’re doing. But he wasn’t asked, so he wasn’t going to say anything. Plus, if he got the role and got paid for this… No one would deny the money.

Taking a sip of water from the fountain, he heard another person from behind him speaking.

“I didn’t know they let children audition for Kensuke,” the voice sounded closer to him than he’d expected. “It makes things so awkward for me, you know?”

Chuuya turned around quickly. Unfortunately causing him to bump into the aforementioned person. The aforementioned person being someone Chuuya was absolutely not expecting to see in his entire life.

“Holy shit,” Chuuya blinked once. Twice. A third time.

Dazai Osamu had stumbled over and was clutching his upper arm where he’d gotten hit, rubbing it with an overexaggerated pout on his face. The Dazai Osamu.

Also known as the demon prodigy of acting, which came specifically from a show he did as a teenager where he was a mafia executive, Dazai Osamu was perhaps the most well-known actor in… all of Japan, really. He had been acting since he was a young child and took up modeling not long after, due to his objectively attractive face. If you went outside and looked at nearly any billboard, Dazai Osamu’s face was on it. And Chuuya had just accidentally hit him in the arm. Wonderful first impression, idiot.

And maybe- maybe- he was really hot.

“Who knew children were so strong these days?” Dazai grumbled, but that sucked Chuuya back into reality.

Okay. Yeah, hell no. No one made fun of his height.

“Who the hell are you calling a child, asshole?” Chuuya bit back, furrowing his eyebrows and crossing his arms. “I’m twenty-two, for your information.”

“Ah, I didn’t think a grown man could be so short! The more you know!” he smiled brightly, but Chuuya felt the tease in it. Who did this guy think he was?

“Fuck off,” Chuuya glared at him for a second but then decided to walk away before he picked a fight with someone at a callback. That wouldn’t look very good to the director.

But if there is a god out there, it must hate Chuuya because the freakishly tall actor decided to follow behind Chuuya, chatting as if he wasn’t just cussed at, “You know, I’m sure it’s not too late for a growth spurt! If you drink more milk, you never know what could-”

The ‘I’m not gonna punch someone’ plan failed.

And as if it wasn’t bad enough that he straight up punched someone, the second his fist made contact with Dazai’s jaw, he heard the door to the audition room open. Whoops.

Chuuya didn’t care, though. The look of Dazai Osamu, the best actor and apparently the most annoying asshole, in pure shock with a hand against his cheek was the best picture Chuuya could have in his mind. Had this guy gone this long without a goddamn punch to the cheek? Other people must be a lot more patient than Chuuya because he was really holding back. (Chuuya purposefully ignored the light smile growing on Dazai’s lips. Is this dude a masochist?)

Unfortunately, the minute that he heard Sakaguchi’s cough, it broke Chuuya from the euphoric feeling of punching an asshole. His smirk immediately dropped the second he turned to the director, but there was no shot that he was going to apologize for his actions. Rather, he stood there and waited for Sakaguchi to say whatever needed to be said.

The moment of silence made it feel like he was waiting for Chuuya to apologize. But he didn’t.

“Okay, well…” he started. “It seems you two have already met. How are we feeling about a chemistry check?”

“With him?” Chuuya’s jaw dropped as he exclaimed.

“As if I wanna do a chemistry check with such an ugly meanie,” Dazai pouted in response.

“What are you? Ten?”

“At least I don’t look ten!”

“Oh, you little-”

“Stop!” Sakaguchi yelled, stopping them from arguing anymore. “Let’s just try it, and then we can all be happily on our way.”

“But-”

“Do I need to get Oda in here?” Sakaguchi looked at Dazai with a stare that could only be described as a frustrated father. When Dazai shook his head and pouted, Sakaguchi gave a tight smile. “Great. Let’s go.”

And if Dazai is going to comply, then Chuuya definitely won’t pass it up because he’s no coward. If the goal is chemistry, then they better be feeling damn sparks fly off of Chuuya’s body because he’s gonna do his best (better than anything Dazai could do- even if Dazai happened to be the literal best).

Now that the blur of being teased and in front of such a famous person (and in front of such a hot person, but Chuuya can’t admit that anymore) melted away from his mind, he took a second to examine the person in question. His hair was almost ten times fluffier than it looked on camera- Chuuya almost felt the urge to touch it. As for his outfit, it was exactly what one would expect from his pictures and interviews: a nice silky blouse and tan dress pants. What was unexpected were the bandages that were around his neck and covered his arms too. Weird aesthetic, but Chuuya didn’t question it too much. Also unexpected were the piercings that wrapped all around his ear. He had some kind of light about him- like he himself was on fire and it radiated around everyone. Chuuya didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Your start,” Dazai nodded his head at Chuuya, then smirked. “I understand that I’m hot, but you can stare after we get this done.”

“As if I’d wanna stare at your annoying ass,” Chuuya scoffed. He took a breath, needing to get into character.

The scene took place right at Kensuke’s “gay awakening” of sorts- it is the moment that he starts questioning if Shuji is perhaps more than just a rival to him. And honestly, Chuuya thinks that if anyone talked to him the way Shuji talked to Kensuke in this scene, he might fall in love with them too.

“If you’re here to brag, I don’t care enough to hear it,” Chuuya scoffed, looking anywhere but at Dazai, but he felt Dazai staring right at him.

“Well, you know, there’s no shame in being second best, my little one.”

That nickname was definitely not on the script. Chuuya dared to turn around and look at Dazai, his smile wide and teasing. I see how it is. “As if! If I wanted to do well this time, I could. I could beat your mackerel-looking ass any day.”

Dazai’s eyebrow twitched up in surprise at the added insult, “Dream on, slug. I look forward to the day that you can even do half as well as me.”

“Unlike you, I actually have a life and places to be,” Chuuya rolled his eyes, turning away from the other. “I don’t have time for your pointless boast-”

“But!” he said loudly, interrupting the redhead, grabbing his wrist, and turning him around. “I was going to give you something.” This causes Chuuya to turn around questioningly, Dazai looking away with a smile, starting to walk in the other direction. “I guess if you don't want it~”

“Cut the bullshit,” a kick to the leg cuts the taller off. Earlier, Chuuya made sure the kick was a light tap, but he thought that Dazai deserved a bit harder. He reached for his leg, rubbing at it with a pout. “What is it?”

“I’m not giving this to a meanie who can’t even be nice to me for five seconds!”

“If you want people to be nice to you, you should consider not being such a damn asshole!” Chuuya fires back. “I don’t want your… whatever anyways.”

“Wait!” he groans in response, rummaging through his nonexistent bag for a nonexistent book. “I just so happened to have an extra copy of the Picture of Dorian Gray and remembered that you wanted one.”

“Huh?” Chuuya froze, mouth open at the gesture.

“Don’t look at me like that, idiot.” Dazai wrinkled his nose in disgust. “If you can’t keep up on your literature, then it just makes the competition too easy, ya know? And I can’t have that when I’m finally starting to enjoy winning.”

Chuuya lets out a huff of laughter, taking the still-nonexistent book and mimicking the motions of looking through it. “You know, the quality is awfully good for someone who had it lying around somewhere.”

“I take wonderful care of my books!”

“You don’t take good care of your fucking bag. I can’t imagine your books are all pristine and shiny,” he raises his eyebrows.

“What if I did buy it just for you?” Dazai raises his eyebrows in response. “What if you mentioned that book and I just rushed to buy it because I wanted to see the happiness on your face when you got it?”

Chuuya started to say many words, but none of them stuck. Dazai took a step forward, towering over him. Their height difference made this scene feel much different than it had with any of the other actors. Not that the other actors weren’t taller than him- just not to this extent. And it made Chuuya feel tiny, the way Dazai put his hand gently on Chuuya’s jaw, cupping it and turning his head up to look Dazai in the eye. They were so close. Too close. The other actors were not this close. Looking at him in this moment felt electrifying- like there was a string that attached the two of them. If someone told Chuuya that the entire room was on fire, or that there was an electric current running through all of his veins, he would’ve absolutely believed you. This was the scene that they needed. This was the chemistry.

“What if I’m just in love with you and want to give you everything you like, darling?” his breath was on Chuuya’s face, making him feel a little dizzy. He doesn’t think anyone’s been this close to him while he was sober. His legs felt like jelly and he thought that his heart was going faster than normal- he wished that he had some kind of alcohol before doing this.

But he was an actor. So he just continued the scene, furrowing his eyebrows and speaking with the right amount of breathlessness and venom, “Wha- I- Are you?”

Dazai smirked but then started laughing and let go of Chuuya’s face. “No! You’re so gullible, Chibi.”

Now that Dazai was further away, Chuuya could finally breathe properly. Properly enough to register that he was still adding things into the script that weren’t there before, “Shut up, asshat!”

“If you continue like this, Kashimura, I’m gonna start to think you like me,” he continued to tease.

“You need to get that ego checked out, if it gets too big, I’m worried that you’ll explode,” his face scrunched in a way that screams ‘I hate you’.

“So you’d just fall for anyone who touches you? That’s sad, darling. I hope you find someone willing to touch a slimy slug,” Dazai’s false concern matched Chuuya’s almost exactly.

“Go drown in a river,” Chuuya finally rolled his eyes and walks away.

“See you in hell!”

When the scene ended and Chuuya finally broke character, the three people in front of them were looking with an expression that Chuuya could read perfectly. Dazai was smirking and laughing as if Shuji wasn’t even a character to him, “Good job, shortie. Can’t wait to work with you.” And after giving Chuuya a pat on the back, Dazai left.

Shit. Maybe Chuuya performed a little too well.

Chapter Text

When Chuuya received the script, he shouldn’t even be surprised.

Even though the director merely said that they’d seen everything they needed from Chuuya, he knew that he’d gotten the role. Call him cocky, but if the demon prodigy of acting, Dazai O-fucking-samu, said that he looked forward to working with Chuuya, that’s a pretty good reason to think he was good enough to get the part. Not to mention the shocked smiles that were on the three people’s faces. And it wasn’t like he was wrong, because not too long later, the phone call alerted him that he’ll be playing Kashimura Kensuke in the Stray Dogs movie.

Unfortunately, he was almost 100% certain that Dazai Osamu had gotten the part of Tsushima Shuji and that meant that he’d be working with the most unbearable asshole he’d met. Well, he was sure that Dazai could’ve been worse- could’ve been an actually bad person, but he’s not, as far as Chuuya knew- but it was definitely not a good impression. Seriously, who makes fun of someone the first time they see them?

Either way, Chuuya was willing to be civil for the sake of making hella money, as long as Dazai didn’t continue any antics (which he wasn’t sure he could count on). Rather than dwell on that, Tachihara had successfully convinced Chuuya that now was the time for more celebration. It wasn’t necessarily a difficult feat to get Chuuya at the club, but he was happy to get them all partying once again.

“Cheers to Chuuya’s last hookup before becoming a star!” Tachihara raised his glass with a laugh, while Chuuya simply rolled his eyes, despite the smile forming on his lips.

With them celebrating was the normal group- Tachihara had to bring along Gin, while she happily brought Higuchi, and the four were all set on bringing Gin’s little brother since he also managed to get a role. Ryuunosuke would never admit it, but Chuuya knew that he was at least a little happy to have gotten a more major role than any of his previous ones. If that wasn’t something to celebrate, Chuuya didn’t know what was.

Higuchi awkwardly cleared her throat, “Cheers to Ryuu and Chuuya- you guys will do great, I know it.”

“See, Tachi,” Gin elbowed him, to which he pouted in response, “Not that hard to make a good toast.”

With that, the group cheered, clinking their glasses together before downing it in record time. Despite Chuuya’s jokingly annoyed reaction to Tachihara, he was absolutely planning on having a one-night stand that night. It was very well deserved, at least in his opinion. After talking to his friends for a while, making sure that Ryuu didn’t feel too out of place in a club, and drinking to the point of pure confidence, he would be ready to find the hottest guy around and seduce him into going to his place. For now, he would focus on the disgusting alcohol. He missed his fancy wine collection back home.

“Ay, Ryuu!” Chuuya smiled at him, to which he received the turn of a head and nothing more. By now, Chuuya had gotten used to his monotone nature, accepting that it was just how he was, rather than using it as a reflection of how he was feeling. “I haven’t congratulated you on the new part yet, have I?”

“Congrats to you too, Nakahara,” he nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “I look forward to working with you.”

Despite the many- many- times Chuuya has told Ryuunosuke to just call him Chuuya, he refused every time. It made the older feel like they were too distant, but if Ryuunosuke wasn’t comfortable with it, Chuuya wasn’t going to push him. “Same! If nothing else, at least I have you there.”

“It’d do you well to make friends with the other cast members. I won’t be there too often, so I hope that you can find companionship elsewhere,” he spoke in his usual formal manner. It was odd that he talked like that, considering his own younger sister spoke naturally, but it was just another thing that Chuuya had just gotten used to.

“What do you mean you won’t be there often?”

“I’m not too much of a character, so I’m only in a select amount of scenes,” Ryuu explained. “I’ll only be there when I’m called for that day.”

“Oh,” Chuuya frowned. “That makes sense.”

“Get acquainted with Shuji- I’m sure you’ll be seeing him a lot.”

With that, Chuuya downed the rest of his cup, asking the bartender for a second glass of whiskey. God, he missed wine so much. Unfortunately, wine was not the best thing to drink if you wanted to get wasted- which he didn’t, but still. He turned to the other person he was next to and punched him in the shoulder.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” Tachihara rubbed his arm.

“Just wanted to make sure that you were staying the night at the Akutagawa’s tonight?” he raised an eyebrow, which Tachihara immediately smiled at.

“My man! I knew you were looking for a hookup! I’ll be sure not to come home tonight- don’t you worry your pretty little face,” he pinched Chuuya’s cheek, to which the older scrunched his nose and slapped at the hand holding him.

“Fuck off,” he pouted, but couldn’t hold back a smile “Hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow!”

With that, Chuuya ventured out into the great unknown. Or just towards the dance floor of the club, rather than the bar section. It wasn’t too bad of a club- Chuuya had gone to this place since freshman year of college and it’d been his go-to ever since. It just wasn’t necessarily a good club either. That part was extremely apparent as Chuuya felt the heat of all of the dancing bodies in such a confined space. Every club had that, though, he supposed.

One scan around the room. Two scans. Ugh.

Eventually, once his second glass of whiskey was downed, he went back to the bar. Tachihara had already gone, as well as the others, likely to stop him from making any bad decisions. Chuuya saw someone he supposed would be fine- it was just a quick hookup. The man didn’t have to look like a model.

He walked up to his ‘target’, smiling at him. His eyes flickered from the man’s eyes to his lips and then back up, “Has anyone told you that your eyes are stunning?”

The man in question looked taken aback, “Oh- no.”

“They’re gorgeous,” Chuuya reached a hand towards his cheek to tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, but a polite hand stopped him.

“I’m so sorry, but I’m not interested,” he smiled apologetically. “I’m not… into men.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” the redhead responded, taking a step back to give the other space. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You’re alright. Good luck finding someone.”

“I appreciate it,” Chuuya walked away with a sigh, before going to where he sat earlier and hitting his head against the bar.

It wasn’t a big deal, but for some reason, he wasn’t feeling in the right mood and the rejection just made the lack of mood more prominent. Why was his mind so set on him finding a hookup anyways, when everything else was so against it?

“That sounded like it hurt,” Gin commented as she took the seat next to Chuuya. Immediately after, as if she didn’t care about whether Chuuya was actually hurt or not, she ordered four glasses of various types of alcohol. Once the drinks had been ordered, she turned back to the older, “What’s up?”

“For some reason, I’m just tired,” Chuuya sighed, not even understanding his own emotions.

Gin slid a whiskey over to him. “I’m gonna have to deliver some of these soon, but I can stay for a minute. Talk to me.”

After taking a moment (and a long sip of his drink), he responded, “I think I’m just too worried to party. Maybe I’ll feel better after I get shitfaced.”

The chuckle that he let out wasn’t convincing and she gave an unamused smile, “You’re not getting shitfaced tonight, Chuuya. I don’t wanna have to babysit two drunk dumbasses.”

“Ay, I’m not nearly as bad as Tachihara, so don’t even think about comparing us.”

“As fair as that is, have you seen yourself drunk?” she leaned in as if telling him a secret, putting her hand up to connect her mouth and his ear. “It’s pretty bad-”

“Don’t get too close to the Chibi there! You might catch slug germs.”

The second Chuuya heard that voice, a groan automatically came from his throat. It’s almost like the one thing that he never wants to happen always manages to happen. Gin turned her head to look at the person speaking, but Chuuya refused to, instead turning inwards and taking another sip of his drink. It was finally starting to kick in, harder than he’d expected it to. His vision had started blurring and his brain felt fuzzy. Thank god.

“I’m not sure what charms he tried to seduce you with,” Dazai started talking again, obviously to Gin. The idiot didn’t even know that they were just friends. “But he’s not the kinda guy you should be spending the night with. Very abusive!”

“Only to you, asshole!” Chuuya turned around and bit back, giving a kick to Dazai’s shin.

“I feel so special,” he smiled, despite the way he reached down to clutch where it hurt. “What, are you in love with me or something?” Dazai then turned to Gin again, “He’s not even into women, you know. He’s actually obsessed with me, but won’t admit it.”

“You’re the one obsessed with me!” Chuuya ground his teeth together and blinked harshly a few times. “And I wasn’t even fucking hitting on her.”

Dazai blinked a few times, before sitting next to Chuuya and wrapping an arm around his shoulder- one that he promptly pushed off and Dazai raised his hands in surrender, “I should’ve known you’d never be able to get that close with a beautiful girl.” He leaned over Chuuya to face Gin, “Care for a dance, M’lady?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I have a girlfriend to attend to,” she smiled, grabbing the drinks and leaving Chuuya, mouthing ‘I’ll be right over here’ as she left. Chuuya appreciated that she was sticking nearby in case anything happened. Not that he would ever need any help if Dazai pulled anything- even drunk, he could beat anyone’s ass, but he liked the sentiment.

Actually looking at Dazai, he looked… not like himself in the slightest. Instead of the elegant, angelic aesthetic that he’d shown not only in interviews but also a few days ago, he was decked in a more grunge style. His silky blouse was replaced with a band shirt that had rips throughout the shoulder and back, while his skinny jeans were just as tattered. A mask covered his lower face, but Chuuya assumed that was more for not wanting attention than anything (part of him thought that it might’ve also been to hide the bruise that his punch had left). His bandages were still on his arms and neck, and his piercings were spikier and there was a metal chain dangling off one ear. Interesting.

Dazai turned to Chuuya with an inquisitive face- not quite confused, but not not confused, “She has a girlfriend?”

“What? You got a problem with it?” Chuuya immediately made a little more room between him and Dazai. It seemed kinda ironic considering the movie that he had auditioned for, but anyone can be homophobic, he supposed.

“Not at all!” Dazai shook his head with a defensive, taken-aback face. “Just didn’t expect her to say it so openly.”

“Yeah, well, people are openly gay. Get used to it.”

It seemed that Dazai had no clue how to respond to that because the two sat in silence for a few moments. Eventually, Dazai called over the bartender, “A glass of whiskey, please! On his tab!”

“Ay!” Chuuya scrunched his nose at him. “I’m not paying for your shit.”

“But don’t friends buy each other things?”

“We aren’t friends, asshole,” he rolled his eyes. “You’re just a creepy stalker who follows me around or something.”

Somehow, that is what received a laugh from Dazai, “Never thought that I’d ever go from being the stalkee to the stalker.” He then got closer to Chuuya, putting up his hands like he was a ghost haunting him, “Be scared! I know all the good tips and tricks!”

Chuuya elbowed him, which immediately made him pout and back off. “What are you even here for?”

“Well, I was just gonna come here because I heard it was a good club and I’m in the mood for some drinks, but then I saw Chuuya and I thought that maybe I could get free drinks and annoy him, so two birds, one stone!” Dazai took off his mask and sipped his drink, wincing at the bad taste. Chuuya couldn’t even blame him for that one- alcohol was hella disgusting.

“You can’t just- Wait,” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. It was really getting hard to think. “How do you know my name?”

“Ango said it at callbacks,” Dazai shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “Congrats on the role, by the way.”

“How do you know I got the role?” Was the alcohol really fucking with his head that badly? He didn’t remember Sakaguchi saying his name- or mentioning to Dazai that he’d gotten the part.

“Who else would’ve?” he smiled teasingly. “If we weren’t the main duo, then that would’ve been the biggest mistake of the century.”

“Wanna work with me that bad?” Chuuya smirked. “I’m starting to think that you’re in love with me.”

“Aw, how cute! The slug thinks he has a chance!” Clapping his hands, he turned his full body to face Chuuya. “Sorry to break your heart, but I have no such interest in men.”

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, putting his hand on Dazai’s cheek and pulling him in close- almost as close as they’d been a few days ago, “One night with me, baby, and I can change that for you.”

Dazai looked at him with an amused expression, obviously slightly taken aback. If Chuuya weren’t drunk, he definitely wouldn’t have had the balls to say that to him. But he was, so instead, seeing Dazai’s face made him more than happy. He lightly slapped him with the hand that had been previously cupping his cheek so gently, before letting out a little chuckle. “Yeah, no. As if.”

“And here, I thought that my Chibi was finally-”

“There you are!”

When Chuuya snapped his head around to see the person who’d just spoken, he was met with someone who looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly point out why. She also had a mask around the bottom half of her face, so perhaps that (as well as the blur of his vision) was why he couldn’t tell.

“Akiko,” Dazai whined. She seemed entirely unamused with him, crossing her arms with a mild glare.

“Ah! Yosano Akiko!” Chuuya accidentally spoke out loud with a nod, finally realizing it was her.

“You’re from the callbacks, aren’t you?” Yosano turned her attention to the redhead.

“He got the lead!” Instead of letting Chuuya answer, Dazai simply jumped in, giving Yosano a knowing glance. Chuuya had no clue what the glance was supposed to communicate, but he was too drunk to really care.

“Congrats, then,” she reached her hand for Chuuya to shake, which he did. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Who’re you playing?” Chuuya asked as she let go of his hand, massaging it from the aggressive handshake. Seriously, this girl had an insane grip.

“Ho Sho.”

Ho Sho was Kensuke’s childhood friend and long-term girlfriend. They’d been dating since high school and it’d lasted until college, before Kensuke realized that he was actually gay. She was hurt, very reasonably, and avoided Kensuke for a large amount of time. Thankfully, there’s a moment towards the end where she is one of the final pushes that he needed to get with Shuji and be happily together with him. After that, they have a reunion of sorts and she serves as one of his best friends until the end. Yosano would make a good Sho, Chuuya thought.

“I’m gonna go ahead and steal Osamu from you,” Yosano grabbed Dazai’s arm and pulled at him lightly, urging him up.

“But I was talking to Chuuya!”

“If Mori finds us gone again, he’s gonna lose his shit,” she sighed. “Get off your ass and let’s go back to the damn hotel.”

“I like this girl,” Chuuya said to himself, but Yosano heard and gave him a chuckle.

“Thank you, thank you. I take it he’s been bothering you?”

Giving Dazai a quick glance, he turned back to Yosano, “Something like that. He even made me pay for his drink- asshole.”

“Gosh, of course, he did,” she elbowed him lightly. “I’ll pay for that- how much was it?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Chuuya waved his hands, panicked. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll give him a good smack when I’m sober.”

She laughed at that, asking a final “You sure?” and when Chuuya affirmed that it was fine, she nodded and said goodbye.

“See you on set!” Dazai called with a wave as he was being roughly dragged by Yosano out of the club. Chuuya just gave him the middle finger with a smile in response. Who knew that talking to Dazai Osamu would be such a great pick-me-up? It was almost like the very thought of doing something that Dazai couldn’t made him want to keep it up. And once Dazai was out of sight, Chuuya downed the rest of his drink in one sip.

Time to go get railed.

- - -

When Dazai got back to the hotel, Akiko stayed in the room with him while he complained. It was a rather large room with only one queen-sized bed rather than two, but that gave more room for the desk and chair, as well as a bookshelf and loveseat. It felt more like a bedroom than a hotel room, but Dazai hadn’t had a bedroom for many years, so he couldn’t say anything for certain.

“You big baby,” Akiko sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You know that you can’t go out to a club. Especially without me- or without letting Mori know.”

“I’m twenty-two damn years old,” Dazai was genuinely frustrated. It wasn’t about the fact that he couldn’t go out and get drunk- it was everything. He let himself flop onto his bed, turning his head to look at the older. “I’m an adult. I can do whatever I want and go wherever I please without telling anyone.”

“Unfortunately for you, Osamu, you aren’t an adult. You’re an actor,” she sat down next to him and ruffled his hair.

“What’s the harm in me going to the club anyways? No one noticed me.” By now, it was apparent that Dazai was fighting a losing battle, but it didn’t matter. If tonight ended in an argument, that was at least better than sitting alone in his room. “And who gives a shit if they did?”

“You know fully well the millions of things that can happen from something as harmless as walking down the street. Don’t give me that bullshit.”

“I know that you have some kind of image or whatever, but that’s for you,” he sat up, forcing her hand off his head. He couldn’t deal with any affection right now. “If I wanna fuck up my reputation, you shouldn’t stop me.”

“We both know that this isn’t about my reputation right now.”

“No, it really is,” Dazai lied through his teeth, words coming out like venom. He was shooting to kill and almost felt sorry that it was Akiko who had to get hurt. “You’re just a selfish asshole who’s pissed that you lost that fucking lawsuit against Mori, so you’re taking it out on me and not letting me enjoy my life. It’s your fault you didn’t win and it’s your fault that he even tried to-”

“Dazai,” she tensed up visibly. “I suggest that you stop here before you say something you regret.”

“No, Akiko. You know what I think?” Dazai stared her dead in the eyes, his voice void of any emotion. It was almost as if the last of his humanity drained from his soul, “I think that you’re miserable because of the choices that you made, so you decided that you should just hurt everyone else around you. Kouyou, Kyouka, your parents-”

“They aren’t a part of this!” Akiko stood up, hands in fists. Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, she looked at him upsettingly. “Fuck you, Osamu. Mori’ll be here to check on you soon, but if you wanna get yourself killed, do whatever the fuck you’d like.”

“I plan on it, darling.”

And with that, Yosano left the room. Dazai let out a sharp breath, falling back on his bed and staring at the ceiling. It was almost funny how easy it was to get people to leave him alone and make them angry. He would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the dull ache he felt in his chest.

After staring at nothing for a while, mind both swarming with different thoughts and completely empty, he turned to look at the bedside table. He wasn’t going to…

It was only a little past midnight, so he had about an hour before Mori would come barging in, making sure he was both alive and present. That was enough convincing for him to roughly tear off his left arm’s bandage, wincing at the way it rubbed against his dry skin. He opened the bedside table’s cabinet, pulling out the razor that he’d hidden from Mori.

Akiko didn’t deserve anything that Dazai had said to her and she knew it well. She even knew that Dazai had just been throwing out whatever he could to hurt her and get her angry enough to yell at him. That was why she’d developed a habit of walking away when upset, but Dazai accepted that as well and used that to his advantage multiple times. Maybe he didn’t get the emotional pain that he longed for, but at least he’d received an opening to physically hurt himself. If Dazai apologized, he didn’t know if he’d mean it or not- that was the part that really hurt.

One slice.

His skin ached. He’d never taken proper care of his cuts, only putting bandages over them after he finished. This left most of them extremely dry and the skin crusting up and flaking around it- it was disgusting and painful, but he couldn’t care about any of it. The dryness only made the new cuts hurt worse as he dragged the razor across his skin. Blood oozed out of the first lines. Not enough.

Another slice.

He deserved so much worse than what a tiny razor could do to him; he deserved a sharp knife that could dig deeper- really make an impact. Maybe he could even die if he wasn’t careful. Small lines couldn’t even give him half of the pain that should’ve been experiencing. More blood covered his arm. The red color was nice.

Another slice.

Would people still like Dazai if they knew that he was a disgusting, emotionless shell of a human? Probably not. The burn felt too distant- like it was barely digging into his arm. Maybe he was finally disconnecting from his body. Maybe he was finally going back to whatever hell he was born from and the real human who was meant to have this body could regain it. But when his eyes opened (when had he closed them?), he was still in the same body as before. Ugh.

Another slice. Push it deeper.

His bloodied arm felt like it was on fire, hot with pain. Pain that he could barely even feel at this point. All he did was stare at it, not even hints of tears welling up in his eyes despite the ache in not only his arm but also where his heart should be. Did he even have one of those anymore? In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that pushing deeper felt better. Stung more.

Another.

Another.

Another.

Fuck.

He wasn’t sure when, but the blood had dripped off his arm and gotten on the bedsheets and blankets. Mori couldn’t know about that. Dazai rushed to the bathroom with his bandages, deciding to care for it there, where it wouldn’t matter if blood dripped. The hard floor made it easy to clean. He first took the paper towels and wiped most of the gushing blood off of his arm. It kept coming back the second he’d wiped it as if he’d never used a paper towel at all. Fuck. Mori would definitely notice if his bandages were bloodied. He’d just have to stay in the bathroom until the cuts dried before making sure Mori wouldn’t be able to see the blood drops on his bed.

How had he managed to cosmically fuck everything up again?

Chapter Text

Chuuya had no clue what to expect for his first day on the job.

If he’d at least done some sort of theatre at his high school, he’d at least have a clue about acting and sets and performance in general, but he was too much of a troublemaker back then to even think about doing something fun for himself. It was a miracle his dads ever let him travel all the way to Japan alone- not to mention how he could even make it into college.

Either way, perhaps nothing could’ve prepared him for the panic that was being on set. The very second he’d made it to the designated address, which was luckily just on his college campus, he was handed clothes to wear and put on and then told to find another person whose name he couldn’t even remember for his makeup- he needed makeup? Whatever. One thing at a time.

The clothes were the epitome of basic- were they trying to make Kensuke some kinda filler character? That’s the only valid explanation for his boring hoodie and jeans. He supposed it made enough sense, as his personality was described as loud, but his clothing had never made the slightest reference to that in either the book or the script. Green wasn’t Chuuya’s color though, so the fashion major part of him was screaming and yelling at him. Would it be too picky if he were to ask whoever was in charge of costumes if he could get a blue or beige one? Probably.

It’s okay.

Oversized hoodie and vans on, he stepped out of the dressing room (which was really just a bathroom in one of the campus buildings) and put his clothes on the rack they’d brought. Alright, mission one accomplished.

“Excuse me,” Chuuya tapped someone on the shoulder, “Do you happen to know who’s going to be doing my makeup? I was told their name earlier, but it already managed to slip my mind.”

“No worries,” the man smiled. He pointed over in the direction of a few people sitting in chairs, seemingly at the one who was applying her own lipstick. “My sister, Naomi, should be doing it for you.”

“Ah, thank you,” Chuuya nodded his head politely, turning to go get his makeup done. Unfortunately, he didn’t even know her last name and was unsure of what to refer to her as. Was ‘the makeup artist’ too rude?

Thankfully, he didn’t have to address her, since the second he walked up, Naomi put up her lipstick and smiled at him. “Take a seat! Make yourself comfy.”

“What all are we doing?” Chuuya asked. He’d never really worn makeup before, so he was unsure of what to expect. “Like- I don’t know. This is kinda new to me.”

“Ah, well,” Naomi grabbed something from her bag, pumping it on the back of her palm and using a sponge to apply it to Chuuya’s face. He flinched back as it made contact with his cheek, not used to the cold feeling, “It’s just the basic stuff- primer, foundation, concealer…”

She continued and Chuuya didn’t really catch a single word she said past that. It was like she was speaking a foreign language and Chuuya had only taken one semester of English in high school. Not good. Regardless, he still nodded and hummed as she explained every piece of makeup that she would be using on him, occasionally stopping what she was doing to make motions with her hands, which annoyed him a little.

“You know, Nakahara, I’ve never seen you in a show before,” the second she finished talking about makeup, she started talking about something new. “What have you been in?”

“Oh, uh,” Chuuya choked for no reason at all. It definitely wasn’t embarrassing that you’ve never acted before… definitely not. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Naomi confirmed, eyebrows raised and jaw dropped with a light smile.

Nope, that’s anxiety-inducing. “No, no! I was just saying nothing that you’d have seen.”

“Aw,” she pouts, continuing to apply some powder to his face. All of these textures were a sensory hell on his face, but it was fine. Everything was fine. “That’s too bad. You’ll be sure to get a hit with this one, though. People are already whispering about this movie, and if you’re anything like I’ve heard, you’ll be good.”

People are already whispering about this movie? What if Chuuya didn’t live up to the standards that everyone already had? Naomi had heard that he was good already- what if he let everyone down with his mediocre performance? He was so tired of letting people down. No, Chuuya. Everything was fine.

Naomi kept talking, going on about how she’d read the book when it first came out and whatnot, but Chuuya couldn’t pay attention. He tried- he really did- but it seemed like the noises were all intensifying rapidly and the lights had suddenly gotten a lot brighter. Why did they have to turn up the lights? And his arms felt really scratchy- was the hoodie material irritating his arms? But his legs felt scratchy too. And his neck. Oh my god, his neck felt like it was on fire. Every touch of the brush on his face was like needles.

“I’m so sorry, but can you excuse me for a moment?” he asked Naomi but didn’t give her time to even register the question before he stood up and walked as quickly as possible to the far staircase, away from all of the staff and actors and everyone. His breathing intensified as he walked- why did such an oversized hoodie feel so suffocating right now? The sensation of the sleeves was still pricking at his hands and it was only making everything ten times worse.

What can he do? He rolled his sleeves up harshly, but it felt impossibly worse against his forearm than it did his hands. Chuuya felt the uncomfortableness of his jeans heightening too- wait. Jeans. He shoved his hands in his pockets harshly, allowing his hands a safe haven from the hoodie material.

Sitting down at the top of the staircase, he closed his eyes and tried to focus. He would kill for a cigarette right about now. Or a nice glass of wine. Wine sounded amazing right now.

Keep thinking about wine. Not about the fact that you’re about to go film your first scene and let down all the people who trusted you to play this part well.

Fuck.

What did he normally do when he had an anxiety attack? Right- he called… dammit. His phone was with the rest of his clothes, so calling his dad was definitely not going to work for now. And when his dad didn’t respond, he usually just played French music to remind him of home, but that was obviously still a no. There was nothing for him without his phone, but he couldn’t go back to get his phone until he calmed down. But he couldn’t calm down without his phone so-

Chuuya let out a cry of frustration, pulling at his hair harshly. He was being such a kid. There’s no reason to cry over something as absolutely idiotic as this, and yet he was frantically blinking back tears. If Naomi had to redo his makeup, he thought he’d rather take a bullet to the brain. Nothing against her, but the sensory was awful and in this state, he wasn’t ready to handle that again.

That motivation kept tears from actually spilling, so he was okay with it as long as it worked. It didn’t stop the recurring voices telling him that he should just quit and return to the Flags and the Sheep and the life he lived before he started trying. Fuck trying. He never got anxious like this before he began working hard for things and somehow, this feeling was the most devastating thing to him now. Giving up felt just as bad as failing, though. Maybe that part hurt the worst.

“Who let the slug out of his cage?”

A familiar, very unwanted voice called behind him. Then, he lightly tapped Chuuya’s shoulder with his shoe, “What are you doing hidden all the way over here?”

“None of your damn business,” Chuuya rolled his eyes, using the sleeves of his hoodie to dry the tears that refused to fall. Apparently, Dazai didn’t know how to take a hint because he sat right next to Chuuya. “Get out of here.”

“Well, I was sent to fetch you, since Naomi said that she still hadn’t finished doing your makeup and we’re supposed to start going through the first scene for today in-” Dazai checked his watch. “-fifteen minutes.”

Holy shit- time had passed way faster than Chuuya’d even begun to expect. There should’ve been at least thirty minutes left when he’d run off.

“I’ll be there in a second.”

“I dunno, Chibi.” Dazai raised an eyebrow, looking at his painted nails and picking at them, “If you’re not feeling good, it could affect our work and neither of us wants that to happen. I think it’d make everyone happy if you let me help you out and then Naomi can finish you up and we can have a good run that doesn’t need a hundred takes. Just tell me what to do and I’ll try my best to help you.”

And as much as Chuuya disliked Dazai, he also knew that he wouldn’t do well acting in this state. He’d probably make his nightmare of disappointing them all come true.

“Fine,” Chuuya sighed. “Do you know how to speak French?”

This was by far the quickest way to calm him down without telling him anything about his anxiety and sensory issues. If he dared talk about that, he was sure that Dazai would burst out laughing, considering Dazai’d been in this industry as long as he could walk. He wasn’t in the mood to be made fun of, especially when he was so adamant about being better than Dazai. But he guessed that Dazai had found him here anyway, so being seen as an equal was probably already out of the question.

When Dazai didn’t respond to the question, instead giving a curious glance, Chuuya backtracked. “Nevermind. Do you have your phone on you?”

“Je peux,” Dazai spoke, making Chuuya freeze automatically. “Parler français. Je peux parler français.”

“Oh… bon,” he responded with a nod, those few words already making him feel a little closer to his home. “Peux-tu me parler un peu en français?”

“Oui,” he complied, not asking a single question. Chuuya couldn’t help but feel grateful that Dazai didn’t immediately start laughing at him for being visibly uncomfortable earlier, and even speaking to him in French now. It was apparent that it wasn’t Dazai’s first language, but it still had the same effect. Hearing his native tongue spoken to him so gently made him float off, his negative thoughts retreating little by little. He was safe.

Dazai rambled on from one topic to another, talking about some cat he’d seen and then how embarrassing it was when he’d fallen while on his first runway modeling job. Chuuya had to laugh at that one, unable to hold it in. The thought of the prestigious, elegant Dazai Osamu falling over felt really good to him at that moment.

By the time Dazai looked at his watch again and asked, “Es-tu bon maintenant?”

Chuuya was able to say yes with a smile and mean it.

When they went back to the rest of the staff, he approached Naomi again and gave a bow, apologizing for running off earlier and setting her behind schedule. She assured him that it was no problem at all and that she could get him finished up quickly. Maybe he was just stressed over nothing because while the products still felt awkward on his face, it didn’t set him off the way it had earlier. His neck didn’t feel like it was burning, nor did his arms. Everything was actually okay.

Even after going into the classroom they were filming in, it didn’t seem like he was late in the slightest, despite Dazai’s time check sounding like he had no time at all. In fact, he was in the room before Dazai was. Weird.

“Are we just waiting for Dazai?” Chuuya asked the staff member next to him who had been checking his watch very intently every so often.

“Hm?” he turned his head towards Chuuya, “Oh. No, we’ve still got exactly seven minutes until we start.”

Very weird.

If eight minutes ago he had still been panicking and Dazai talked to him for a long time, before letting him go finish up his makeup… Interesting. There was no way all of it was only eight minutes. That sly motherfucker.

Perhaps the first thing that Chuuya noticed when Dazai walked into the room was that his bandages were still on. Despite changing the rest of his previous outfit, his neck and arms were still covered in the off-white wrapping. Maybe it wasn’t just for the aesthetic. But it wasn’t Chuuya’s place to ask anyway- instead, he turned his attention to the rest of the outfit.

Why did Dazai absolutely luck out in terms of clothing? It wasn’t anything crazy, but it was nice black dress pants with a white shirt with some comic on it. He had a beret on too which complimented his earrings nicely, aiding the black and white contrast that he had with his outfit. Of course, Dazai got a well-prepared outfit while Chuuya was stuck with something that he could’ve worn to sleep last night.

“First, you speak French, now, you show up with a beret?” Chuuya raised an eyebrow, going up to the boy with a smirk, “I’m starting to think that you secretly are French.”

“Oooh,” Dazai smiled back, sarcastically going along, “Imagine the articles! What an absolute scandal that would be!”

“Also, I found out about your little lie; don’t think I didn’t.”

“Oh my, he finally knows that I care about being ready on time!” the actor dramatically mimicked fainting. “Okay, wait- that one’s actually a secret. If Kunikida found out, he’d go crazy.”

“Kunikida?”

“That one over there,” Dazai pointed at him- the staff member Chuuya had spoken to earlier- and when he noticed, Dazai waved at him and yelled, “We’re talking shit about you!”

“Don’t corrupt him already!” he rolled his eyes, scribbling something down in his notebook.

“He’s a meanie, but secretly he actually cares about us.” Chuuya feigned a look of shock at Dazai’s words. “Yeah! Exactly!”

“Have you considered that he’s only mean to you because you suck?” the redhead shrugged with a light smile. He would’ve really meant it just nights ago, but recent events had him feeling happier than normal, so the words were really just more teasing than anything else.

“I’m sure you wish I did,” Dazai smirked, also with a matching shrug.

“Oh, as if!” Chuuya scoffed. “Hell would freeze over before I would ever consider having sex with you.”

“I didn’t know hell was frozen! Gosh, you miss a lot when you’re homeschooled, don’t you?”

“Piss off, asshole!”

“You’re the one who came up to me!” Dazai retorted, arms raised in surrender. “And you claim you’re not obsessed.”

If you were to ask Chuuya, he would still say that Dazai absolutely deserved the kick that he got. It wasn’t like they’d started filming yet, so were they really on set at all? The room had filled a lot, which was something Chuuya hadn’t considered before kicking one of the most prominent Japanese figures, but still, no regrets.

“Nakahara!”

Kunikida’s voice snapped. Whoops… “What did Dazai do this time?”

Chuuya stuck his tongue out at Dazai, who did the same in response while massaging his upper thigh where Chuuya had hit it. Ha, Kunikida was on Chuuya’s side. This was a major win for him. “He was being Dazai.”

The sigh Kunikida let out made Chuuya aware that that man was not paid enough for this, “As much as that’s a valid reason, we don’t condone violence of any sorts while on set unless it’s in self-defense. Line 351 in the Terms and Conditions contract you signed.”

“Did you just pull that out from memory?”

“Absolutely,” and Kunikida’s face told Chuuya that he was shocked Chuuya didn’t remember. As if Chuuya was the weirdo for asking. Okay then? “But I’ll let you off with a warning this time, Nakahara. We’re starting in less than two minutes, though, so start getting into character.”

“Thanks,” Chuuya nodded, more nonchalantly than he’d wanted to be. Awkward. Either way, he turned to Dazai, who was still pouting and massaging his thigh. “Grow up. I barely even tried that time.”

With that, he walked away, sitting in a seat that didn’t have anyone on either side of him.

The scene itself was the first meeting between Kensuke and Shuji, though rather informal. Essentially, while in the classroom, Kensuke would be there and paying close attention, taking notes and such. Shuji would come into the room while the teacher was talking, who would make a comment about Shuji’s late appearance. Not too long afterward, the teacher would ask a question and Kensuke would raise his hand high, which went ignored in order to pick on Shuji, who evidently wasn’t paying attention.

Once they’d finally started, all of the organization seemed unnecessary to Chuuya. Regardless, he wasn’t the professional, so he just complied with whatever the others said. He had to change where he was sitting far too many times.

“If he sits here, the light hits his right side and it’ll have a better effect when he raises his hand so…”

“Yes, but for his character, it would make more sense if he sat further up…”

They were trying to make Chuuya look good, so despite the constant bickering between staff, it was alright. No one had done anything with his hair, so he assumed that it was just to be left as it was, but the heat was getting to him and a ponytail would’ve at least made him feel a little bit cooler. It seemed like the staff was too occupied discussing lighting and angles to notice though.

From the window of the door, Dazai was peeking in, looking around at what was going on. Wasn’t someone out there supposed to be talking to him about exactly what he should be doing? Knowing Dazai, he probably just wasn’t paying attention to the person trying to explain it to him. But also knowing that he was such a famous actor, he probably knew what he was doing anyway.

Once they’d finally decided on Chuuya’s placement, they gave him a rundown on precisely how his movements should be and his motivations and everything that he should be thinking about while filming, which was way more than he’d anticipated. It wasn’t too difficult; Kensuke reminded him of himself when he was in his senior year of high school. In the midst of him zoning out, he made eye contact with Dazai from the window. Dazai gave him a wink, while Chuuya resorted to scrunching his nose in disgust.

“Got all that, Nakahara?” the person concluded, in which Chuuya did get the majority of the first part. When Chuuya nodded, the staff turned away and went to their positions. Were they finally starting?

(Of course not. They had a million other things to take care of first.)

Once Sakaguchi had finally given the cue to begin, Chuuya swore he was about to let out a full-body sigh of relief. Instead, he stared directly at the actor of his professor- an old man he didn’t know the name of- and scribbled something down in his notebook. Yup, this was boring as ever so far. Not to mention that the script had been written like an average literature class, which was definitely not something Chuuya had the slightest interest in- and he’d already memorized the entire scene.

When Dazai walked in, Sakaguchi immediately cut the scene. Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at this, but Dazai looked completely unfazed by the quick stop.

“Dazai, would you mind walking in more… irritated?” Sakaguchi explained, talking with his hands. “Like you don’t want to be here.”

“You got that right,” Dazai stretched his arms. When the director only glared back, Dazai reluctantly nodded, “Yeah, I got it.”

“Alright, from the top.”

This process happened countless times for countless reasons. Occasionally, Chuuya didn’t even know what the issue was and Sakaguchi didn’t even explain it. Whatever was wrong must’ve been known by whoever did it though, since he didn’t stop it again.

“Tsushima Shuji,” the professor spoke with a sigh. “Wonderful of you to join us.”

Dazai reacted with an eye roll, walking past the professor to one of the empty seats (one that the staff also took way too long to decide on). “Yup. Sorry.”

“Care to explain what was so important that made you late to class?”

Head resting on his hand, Dazai looked up at him with boredom in his eyes. “Yeah. I was sleeping.”

A few students chuckled, but Chuuya reacted with furrowed eyebrows and a dropped jaw. Kensuke was such a tryhard.

“Don’t make a habit out of this, Tsushima,” he said before continuing the lecture. “Now, as I was saying. This class requires you to have a good mindset and you will be graded accordingly with your efforts. I can only teach as well as you allow me to. “The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” Does anyone know who is quoted saying this? Or what book it’s from?”

Chuuya’s hand shot up.

“Tsushima?”

Dazai, without looking up from his notebook that he was doodling on, responded without hesitation, “John Milton. It’s from Paradise Lost. It really isn’t all that good of a read, though.”

The professor looked taken aback, while Chuuya stared with an impressed gaze, “Oh. That’s… correct. Good job, Tsushima.”

“Thanks,” he responded, still not looking up.

“Right, well. Continuing with…”

And not too long after that, the cameras cut. The first scene had officially been filmed and that meant it was time to repeat the whole thing a million more times. They only scheduled three pages for the day, wanting to get the scene of Kensuke stopping Shuji in the hallway after class.

Apparently, they were going to have a quick table read and then a blocking session beforehand. Also apparently, he was going to have to get used to that because they did that for every scene- Chuuya just didn’t have to go through it last time because he had no lines or real movement. Despite memorizing the entire scene, Chuuya still grabbed it from his pile of stuff to make sure he didn’t mess it up.

“Tsushima!” Chuuya started the scene as Sakaguchi directed him to.

Dazai let out a sigh, as directed. “What do you want, Chibi?”

“That isn’t part of your damn line!” the redhead snapped out of character, glaring at Dazai. “Stick to the script, asshole!”

“I dunno… It seems pretty in character,” he then turned to the director with a mischievous smile, “Don’t you think, Ango?”

“I think that you two need to remain professional on set,” Sakaguchi wrote something in his notebook with a sigh. “Dazai, no changing the script. Nakahara, if Dazai changes the script, just go with it. Now, from Shuji’s line.”

“Fine,” Dazai whined, but then almost instantly got into character, “What do you want?”

“You disrespected our professor during class,” Chuuya pointed out. As if it wasn’t already obvious.

Dazai gave a small huff that screamed annoyance. “Yeah.”

“But you’ve read Paradise Lost? And you had a copy of 1984 with you.”

“Okay, stalker,” he laughed. “What about it? You never seen someone read before? Kinda sad if you’re in a literature class, if you ask me.”

“It’s a good thing no one asked you then,” Chuuya scoffed. “I was just wondering because-”

“So I can’t change the script, but he can?” Dazai whined.

“I dunno, asshole. It seemed pretty in character, didn’t it?” the redhead mocked Dazai’s words from earlier. “It’s not like Sakaguchi stopped me.”

“He’s not looking directly at the script! Of course, he won’t notice!”

“Dazai, Nakahara,” Sakaguchi was massaging his head, obviously annoyed with the two. “This is twice that it’s happened in one read-through. Get your act together.”

If you were to ask Chuuya, it was totally worth being mean to Dazai in disguise of playing a character, but he still apologized for his behavior nonetheless. Once again, they went from Shuji’s last line and they’d gotten through the table read without another argument. Things were looking up.

Until they weren’t.

When the scene started, Chuuya was to run and grab Dazai’s wrist while calling his character’s name.

“Are you sure he can catch me?” Dazai had asked, sounding genuinely concerned. That faded almost instantly. “His legs might be too short, you know?”

“I swear to God-”

“I’m just looking out for you!” he responded innocently. “I just didn’t want them to give you something to do that you couldn’t. Don’t wanna let them down when you can’t-”

He was cut off by a fist to the face.

Chapter Text

There wasn’t much about Chuuya’s childhood that he remembered.

His memories started from when he was about nine, still at the orphanage after some tragic incident involving his parents. The adults there refused to tell him what had happened as if he would’ve cared anyway. He barely knew what they looked like, nonetheless cared about them. Instead, the kids at the orphanage became his family. They looked out for him, which led to him looking out for them in return. Together, they were the Sheep- a bunch of dumb, young kids who were forced to blindly follow whoever paid for them. It was a suitable name. One that Chuuya had accidentally come up with while trash-talking adults once.

“Holy shit, you’re right,” Shirase took another swig of his beer. “They do treat us like sheep.”

Chuuya let out a laugh that sounded more like a tired huff, “Honestly. It’s like- hello, welcome to the orphanage. Meet the sheep and choose which one you wanna buy.”

“That’s actually kinda badass though,” Yuan tilted her head in thought. “Like think about it: “The Sheep”. You know?”

Somehow the name had stuck.

The Sheep weren’t only kids who were put through the same upsetting circumstances, but they were also the best friends that Chuuya could’ve imagined at the time. Growing up, he’d understood that he wasn’t wanted anywhere, so he made a place where people were. Maybe they weren’t related by blood or by law, but they were his brothers and sisters. Brothers and sisters who wanted him there.

Because of how deeply he cared about his new family, his adoption at the age of fifteen hurt worse than he’d imagined. Despite longing for someone to want him for the first few years, once someone had finally taken him, he was harsh and aggressive. He wished that he could go back and tell his younger self that Arthur and Paul were going to be the best dads in the world. But at the time, he was just a stupid, spiteful child.

Occasionally, Chuuya felt like he hadn’t grown at all since then.

Chuuya knew that Dazai didn’t know that he was freaking out earlier over not being good enough. It was just him teasing like they always had. Instead of letting himself realize that and think clearly, he impulsively punched someone on his first day of work. Great. Just great.

After his fist made contact, it was all a blur to Chuuya. In the fuzz of his anger, he heard people rush to get Dazai an ice pack and Sakaguchi scolding him- was he yelling? Chuuya couldn’t tell. He didn’t feel like he was really in his body; someone else had taken control while Chuuya’s soul was sleeping.

That’s what it felt like: sleeping.

It only really occurred to him that anything was real after they’d gone back into the classroom to talk. Dazai and Chuuya were sat near each other, two seats between them to prevent any fighting, while Sakaguchi stood in front of them.

“I should’ve known that this was a possibility when you two were chosen for the roles,” he sighed, obviously regretting his choices. “I mean, you two were literally fighting the first time I saw you. But you know what else I noticed the first time I saw you?”

Chuuya glanced at Dazai.

Dazai glanced at Chuuya.

“Chemistry,” Sakaguchi answered for himself. “Pure chemistry. It would’ve been stupid of me to not hire you after the performance you’d shown me that day. There was no competition after seeing that; you two were perfect. I thought to myself: ‘I can deal with some arguing here and there if it means that this movie has the most electrifying couple in cinematic history’. But this is too much. Not only have you two disrupted a read-through twice, but you also made a scene while merely blocking. If Dazai has a bruise on his face, that causes more work for the makeup team, pain for Dazai, and annoyance for me. Not to mention that if someone were to leak a picture of Dazai with a bruise on his face, there would be major rumors spreading around, which would lead to unnecessary publicity-”

“Any publicity is good publicity,” Dazai shrugged quietly from his seat.

“Does now really feel like the time to say that?”

With eyes void of emotion, Dazai leaned forward, “It’s the truth, Ango. This bruise is nothing. Now, if the point is that I’m fired for causing essentially all three disturbances, I got it. Am I free to leave now?”

“I’m not going to fire either of you yet,” Sakaguchi sighed, taking off his glasses to wipe them off on his shirt. “Like I said, you two were perfect for these roles. Oda even begged for you to have this, Dazai. So I won’t be taking you off the team.”

“Odasaku wouldn’t beg.”

“He did,” the director affirmed. Chuuya wasn’t sure who they were talking about, but he didn’t feel like now was the right time to ask. “Either way, you need repercussions for the issues that you’ve caused today. First, most of the staff will be leaving early today. You two are in charge of putting everything back, where I will supervise and make sure it gets done. They all deserve to take off early and regain the time that you’ve lost them.”

“I’m willing,” Chuuya spoke, but the words came out quietly. He still didn’t feel conscious.

“Good, because I wasn’t asking,” Sakaguchi looked at Chuuya with a light glare. “I also request that you two have a conversation together regarding professionalism at work. When you go off script, I really don’t mind as long as it’s in character and the plot still moves forward with the provided layout, but if you two keep breaking character to bicker about it, I can make a firm rule against it. And, Nakahara?”

Chuuya’s eyes met Sakaguchi’s.

“At least try to keep your anger in check.”

Everything in Chuuya’s body wanted to scream that he was. He was trying so hard, but he was just a stupid, spiteful fifteen-year-old boy. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he stop himself from resorting to violence? Why couldn’t he just control himself? Why?

Voice struggling to remain steady, Chuuya nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Alright,” Sakaguchi sighed. “If this becomes a major issue ever again, I will have to fire you. I don’t think any of us want that to happen.”

With that, they all left the classroom and were ready to continue blocking the scene. Neither Dazai nor Chuuya said a single word the entire time, only occasionally looking at each other with expressionless faces. Yet for some reason, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was almost like he knew that it would be resolved, and that gave him a bit of motivation to get the scene as perfect as possible. Once this was over, they could put everything up and have a small conversation about how to get along. Then Chuuya could go home and rest after the longest day of his entire life.

Not that Chuuya doubted Dazai’s ability to act while upset, but it would lighten his mood if Chuuya went back to their regular teasing, right?

Once all the blocking was done and they were told to get in places, Chuuya whispered to Dazai while passing him, “Whoever makes us restart more times owes the other drinks. Prepare your wallet.”

Chuuya walked past before he could see Dazai’s reaction, but he didn’t need to face Dazai to hear the smirk in his voice, “You’re on, Chibiko!”

From the second Sakaguchi called “Action!”, Chuuya was Kensuke. He jogged and waved, yelling, “Tsushima!”

When Dazai didn’t turn around, Chuuya grabbed Dazai’s wrist. With a sigh, Dazai looked at Chuuya, “What do you want, kid?”

“I’m not a kid,” Chuuya growled back. Changing the script wasn’t so bad. Either way, Chuuya shook his head, getting rid of the frustration- he needed to get to the point. “You disrespected our professor during class.”

The huff that Dazai let out was identical to the one from earlier. “Yeah.”

“But you’ve read Paradise Lost? And you had a copy of 1984 with you.”

“Okay, stalker. What about it? You never seen someone read before? Kinda sad if you’re in a literature class, if you ask me.”

With an eye roll, Chuuya chose to ignore that last comment, “I was wondering because it seems like you’re into literature, so what’s with the attitude?”

“What’s it to you?” Dazai furrowed his eyebrows, obviously annoyed by the question. “Are you some kinda tryhard? I won’t steal your top spot in the class if you’re worried about that.”

Yes. Yes, he was a tryhard.

“Wanting to do well doesn’t make someone a tryhard,” Chuuya snapped. “And as if you could take my spot if you tried.”

Dazai’s eyes twitched down to Chuuya’s lips, only for a split second. Why did he do that? All the annoyance left his face- rather, a smirk was forming and he spoke mischievously, “That sounds like a challenge, Chibi.”

Taking a second to regain his composure, Chuuya bit back, “Well… maybe it was!”

“And what might the name of my challenger be?”

“Kashimura Kensuke,” he looked up at Dazai, feeling the sparks of electricity fly off of them.

“Well, if that’s all, Kashimura, I’ll be off.” And when he didn’t move, Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Dazai let out a laugh, “You can let go of me now.”

Shit.

Chuuya had forgotten to let go of Dazai’s wrist at the start of the scene- why didn’t Sakaguchi call him out for that? After the slight shock as he realized the reality of the situation, he roughly let go and wiped his hand off on his hoodie, “Right.”

Another huff of laughter, “See you around, Kashimura!”

“Fuck off, Tsushima!”

Cut.

A genuine smile on his lips, Sakaguchi marked something on his notebook, “Good work, you two.”

Chuuya sent a glance toward Dazai and then another toward Sakaguchi, “... that was it?”

The director looked up with a confused expression, “Yes? That was good. I see no reason to do another shot.”

“Oh,” Chuuya flinched in surprise.

“I’ll steal Mori’s wallet,” Dazai leaned over and whispered to Chuuya, “Drinks on him.”

“Don’t go stealing people’s wallets!” he turned his head to face Dazai, not realizing how close he was. Chuuya gave a light- very light- punch to Dazai’s shoulder. “Just buy your own damn drinks for once.”

“Hm… no. I don’t wanna.”

“How so many people like you, I will never understand,” Chuuya walked away, extremely ready to get out of these itchy clothes. He heard Dazai hum happily from somewhere behind him.

When Chuuya stepped out of the makeshift dressing room, Dazai was standing right outside, leaning against the wall.

“Of course, you dress like an emo boy,” Dazai raised an eyebrow the second Chuuya walked outside.

Chuuya jumped at the noise before realizing that it was Dazai, “Says you!”

“How dare you?” he gasped, dramatically putting a hand on his chest, “I dress like a dignified member of society!”

And to be fair, yeah, he did. His normal clothing was back- the expected button-up and dress pants with hints of silver jewelry here and there.

“Yeah, yeah,” Chuuya waved off, “Tell that to the idiot I saw at the bar.”

“Hm… I don’t know many people around here, so I’m not sure who you’re talking about,” Dazai feigned innocence, smiling teasingly.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this shit put back. Every second with you makes me lose at least ten brain cells.”

“You wound me!”

Instead of indulging in the actor’s teasing, he walked over to the costume- outfit?- cart and put up his clothing, thanking every god that could possibly exist that he was done with that hoodie. Making sure that he’d gotten all of his stuff off the cart- phone, wallet, pack of gum- he started dragging it over to the elevator.

“Wait up!” Dazai called. “I don’t know where shit is- you can’t just leave me!”

“Figure it out, asshole! There’s maps everywhere!”

Dazai rushed to grab the end of the cart, making sure that it didn’t run into anything.

“I don’t need any help with this,” Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Just go back and grab something or else this is gonna take longer.”

“Extra time with the Dazai Osamu is a blessing,” he bragged happily.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like getting punched.”

“Who said I don’t?” Dazai smirked. Ew.

“Shut up, idiot, before I make you,” Chuuya hit the elevator button, getting them to the ground floor. The storage closet the cart went in shouldn’t have been too far from the elevator.

“Oh my! My Chibi’s getting so cocky,” he gasped. “Is this the part where you shove me against the wall and-”

“You’re the worst!”

“I’m so sorry to inform you, but I’m straight. I’m sure it breaks your tiny, tiny heart to hear-”

“Sakaguchi isn’t here to stop me from beating the shit out of you, so watch your mouth,” Chuuya roughly pulled the cart out of the elevator the second that it opened, not even giving Dazai time to put his hands back on it.

Part of Chuuya’s brain questioned if Dazai was teasing him because he was gay, but then the other part harshly reminded himself that Dazai didn’t even know he was gay. At this point, Chuuya couldn’t even tell how he felt about the asshole. The teasing was almost some kind of fun, amusing stress relief, yet it also riled up Chuuya worse than he’d been riled up since he was back in France. Somehow, Dazai knew all of the right buttons to press and he did so without a second thought. Or maybe he did so purposefully. What was Dazai’s goal?

“Don’t think too hard, slug,” Dazai interrupted his thoughts, “I know that it’s difficult for you.”

That rightfully got him a kick to the leg.

On the second trip down, Dazai finally brought up the thing that Chuuya had been dreading discussing, “Ango’s gonna ask us about the whole ‘professionalism at work’ thing, so let’s just get it out of the way.”

“I’ll stop punching you hard enough to leave a bruise,” Chuuya tried to get out of the conversation as quickly as possible. He knew that it wasn’t a promise he could keep, but it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t have to talk about what set him off.

It wasn’t necessarily like the whole… not feeling good enough thing was the only part that upset him- just the final push. And even if he brought that up, there was no way that he would bring up his other ticks.

“Chibi, chibi,” Dazai sighed, “We both know that you couldn’t control your anger today. If you could’ve stopped yourself earlier, you would’ve.”

“Don’t talk like you know me.”

“I think I do, though,” he hummed, which made Chuuya freeze and tense up. After a moment, Dazai walked past him, “Or maybe I don’t. Who knows?”

Dazai didn’t push any further.

The rest of the cleanup was done in silence, neither of them daring to say another word. Really, Chuuya didn’t know what had upset him so much about Dazai claiming to know him. Maybe it was the fear that he really was predictable and readable- that his entire past could be boiled down to essentially nothing. That he was still the child from seven years ago.

Whatever work was left was finished quickly in a haze. Dazai occasionally glanced at Chuuya, but Chuuya forced himself to ignore it. Two trips later, they met with Sakaguchi to make sure they could leave.

“All done?” Sakaguchi called as he finished up writing notes down- seriously, what was he writing all the time?

Chuuya responded quickly, “Yes, sir. Are we free to leave?”

“Calling me sir just makes me feel old,” he looked up at them. “Yes, you’re good to go. But do have that conversation about boundaries and such so that today’s events don’t occur again.”

“We did,” Dazai answered before Chuuya could even open his mouth. “It’s all settled now and it won’t happen to that extent again.”

“To that extent?”

“Well,” he shot Chuuya a look; Chuuya didn’t know what it meant. Almost… concerned in a way. But then he gave a mischievous smirk, “I can’t promise that I won’t tease him about his awful taste in fashion-”

“My taste in fashion is great, asshole!” Chuuya shot back. It was odd how Dazai could make him feel okay again with an insult.

“So no promises against bickering,” Dazai concluded. “But if this rabid dog decides to punch me again, it’s my fault for forgetting what we discussed.”

With a tired sigh, Sakaguchi nodded, “Alright then. As long as it’s kept to a minimum, you both are free to leave.”

On their way out, Chuuya looked at Dazai- that look held so many emotions in it that Chuuya couldn’t even tell you what he’d meant to convey. After a second, he stopped and muttered, “Thank you.”

“Hm?” Dazai turned around and his teasing hum made Chuuya unsure if Dazai had heard him and just wanted him to say it again or if he truly didn’t know what Chuuya had said.

“I said thank you, asshole,” Chuuya rolled his eyes. “For telling him that we talked about it.”

“We did talk about it, didn’t we?” he winked. Was it still considered gaslighting if it was to make the other person happy? “Is my Chibi already forgetting things?”

“Leave me alone,” he scoffed, allowing himself to enjoy the bickering again. “Go home- stop being obsessed with me.”

“But it’s so hard for me to take my eyes off you,” Dazai dramatically teased, “Please, Nakahara Chuuya, accept my love!”

“Go find a hole to die in,” Chuuya turned the opposite way as Dazai, starting to head back to his apartment.

“And he wonders why I’m never nice to him!”

- - -

Fuck.

Dazai’s head stung as it made impact with the wall, aching from all of the medicine he’d taken. Everything was blurring together into one fuzzy picture. It didn’t feel like real life anymore.

Why was Chuuya’s name burned into his mind like someone had used a branding iron on it? It needed to get out.

From the second he’d seen the fiery redhead, Chuuya had been taking up space in his brain more and more with every interaction. But Dazai couldn’t stop. Chuuya was like a drug to him- he needed more and more and more and-

Fuck.

Where’s the razor? Why isn’t it in his drawer? Dazai put it in his drawer and now it’s fucking gone. Is his alcohol gone too? Where’s the whiskey he stole? Where is anything? Should he take more meds? Where are his goddamn meds?

“Dazai?” a voice called from outside his door, knocking on it lightly. Pretend to be normal- pretend you didn’t just down a bunch of your antidepressants- you’re good at pretending. You’ve done this for years.

He tried to find his medication to put up- Akiko would notice if there was less than he was supposed to have. Shit- it was empty. Did he really take all of them? Whatever. He shoved the bottle under his bed, yelling, “Come in!”

“I just wanted to say-” Akiko stopped in the middle of her sentence as she opened the door. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Dazai asked, standing up. And immediately stumbling over. Yeah, no, it’d been too long since he’d done this.

“Your arms- your room- Osamu, what the hell?”

Huh?

Dazai looked down, trying to focus on what she was talking about. Oh. His arms were red; why were they red? He touched it curiously and immediately regretted it when he flinched in pain. Okay- what about the floor? He squinted at the floor, but Akiko interrupted his thoughts by putting his arm around her shoulder and walking him to the bathroom. Why the bathroom?

“Be honest with me,” she spoke quietly- or was it quiet? Everything sounded a little fuzzy still. “Did you take any drugs too?”

“No,” he lied, grinding his teeth together in an attempt to stop the pain that came with every step.

“Promise?”

“Yes, Akiko, I fucking promise!” Dazai hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but everything was too much for him. It hurt.

“Okay, okay. Calm down,” she eased. “I’m just checking- just making sure.”

She set him down on the floor of the bathroom then her warmth totally left his side. Of course, she left- Dazai would’ve left him too. No matter what she did, he was past saving. Suddenly, he felt his arm being lifted.

“This is gonna sting,” Akiko’s voice was back. Oh. She didn’t leave.

But part of him wished she did after he felt the harsh burn against his arm. He screamed in pain, “What the fuck was that?”

“Disinfectant.”

“But my arm’s not… Shit,” the red thing was blood. When had he gotten scratched? He didn’t notice it earlier.

“How much did you drink?”

“I haven’t…” Dazai thought as hard as he possibly could. It was all too fuzzy. Ever since he’d gotten back from his interview, it was just a blur- nothing made sense. Think, Dazai, think.

He opened the first bottle the second he’d gotten back. And then a second. Had he downed a third too?

“Three?” she repeated, but Dazai hadn’t even known he was talking out loud. He nodded, but the motion caused an ache in his head. “It’s okay, Osamu. I’ll help you clean it.”

He didn’t know there was anything to clean, but he tried to thank her anyways. It came out as a “Hm”, but she didn’t question it. Somewhere in the back of his head, he felt something around his arm, like a firm hug. Then some shuffling.

“This is gonna sting again.”

“Ready,” he let out, but he really wasn’t. He hissed in pain, hearing her whisper apologies as she cleaned his arm. What was she apologizing for? She did nothing wrong. Then the hug appeared on his other arm.

He suddenly heard the faucet running- had it always been running? Either way, it turned off soon enough and Akiko was next to him again, holding something towards his face. “Drink up.”

“What is it?” Dazai choked.

“Water. It’ll help.”

Of course, it’d help- he was drunk out of his mind, but he didn’t want to feel better. No, he didn’t deserve to feel better. But she opened his mouth and he was too weak to fight back. It poured down his throat.

“Osamu, I’m going to be cleaning up the broken bottles in your room. I’m not leaving you, okay?”

He nodded, sitting up slightly. His mind was coming back to him, despite the fuzziness he still felt. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand, Osamu,” she spoke from the other room. “Did something set you off in particular today?”

Yes.

He didn’t understand it. Not even a little bit. But for some reason, every single moment he spent with Chuuya made him feel alive. He was able to laugh, to smile, to feel. Genuinely feel.

Chuuya was unpredictable. He was this light force that shone so bright and Dazai was nothing but a moth, trying to get closer and closer. When he wasn’t with Chuuya, he wanted to be with Chuuya. And when he was with Chuuya, the honest part of his brain, the one that told him he didn’t deserve happiness, shut up. He was just Dazai when he was with Chuuya.

He wasn’t the demon prodigy. He wasn’t a vulnerable child. He wasn’t a billboard model. He was Dazai.

“You still with me?” Akiko’s voice called.

“It was nothing,” Dazai shook his head, wincing at the ache. “I was just being stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” her voice felt so genuine, Dazai’s heart stung. “Recovery isn’t perfect. But please, let me have your whiskey bottles. I’d feel safer if I knew that you weren’t drinking at least.”

“I drank them all.”

“Oh,” she walked back over to where Dazai was on the floor. “I trust you.”

You shouldn’t.

“It was because of him,” Dazai tilted his head, feeling too tired to hold it upright. “I was thinking about him.”

“Who?” Akiko sat down next to Dazai, allowing him to rest his head on her shoulder.

With a sigh, Dazai tried to respond, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t say his name out loud. Instead, he said the words that echoed through his brain all night, “I’m broken.”

Dazai wasn’t awake to hear her response.

Chapter Text

Something that Chuuya learned very quickly was that he did not like makeup.

It wasn’t at all because of the awful gender concepts about men not wearing it, nor was it because he thought it looked bad on him. He knew it looked good- if it didn’t then they wouldn’t have allowed him to be filmed with it on. Rather, it was because the feeling of someone he didn’t know being up close to him made him uncomfortable and his sensory issues went wild every time a product was added to his face.

After a few more days of working, he’d finally gathered the courage to talk to Naomi about it after getting his makeup done for the day. He was definitely not awkward about it.

“I’m so sorry. It’s really not your fault at all and honestly, maybe it’s just because I’ve been stressed, but it’s really hard for me when you do my makeup because it feels so… ugh against my skin and I really can’t handle it. Also, it’s weird for me having you so close to my face when we don’t really know each other, which is probably really stupid, but-”

“Nakahara,” she smiled at him, placing her hand on his arm to calm him down. “It’s okay. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be able to send you on camera without makeup on, but it seems these products just don’t work for you. Do you think it’d be okay for you to go out and buy your own?”

“I don’t know the first thing about makeup. Could you come with me?”

“Well, assuming we need your new makeup by tomorrow, I won’t be free. Today’s my brother’s birthday and we’ve been planning something for a while,” Naomi frowned in apology. “I’m sure we can find someone to go with you after filming today!”

“Who’d wanna spend more time with this slug than they’d have to?” a familiar voice called from behind. Dazai mimicked throwing up and Chuuya swore he might have to throw another punch.

“Shut up. As if you could even help me.”

“Nakahara Chuuya needs help! Is the world ending?” Dazai frantically looked around at the evidently not-ending world. “This is truly unfathomable.”

After sending a ‘help me’ look to Naomi, Chuuya turned back to Dazai, “It’s not my fault I’ve never done makeup!”

Dazai’s dramatic facade dropped, his face now staring at Chuuya in total disbelief, “I can’t help you with makeup, you say…?”

“What would you know about makeup?”

“Chuuya. Chibi. Slug. My love. Child-”

“Saying ‘my love’ and then ‘child’ feels kinda-”

“Hush now, young one,” Dazai waved his finger in front of Chuuya to quiet him. “You are wondering… what I- Dazai Osamu, the demon prodigy of acting, actor of eighteen years- would know about makeup?”

Chuuya realized his mistake. “Okay, well, maybe you do know about makeup. So what? It’s not like you’re gonna go with me anyways.”

“Nope, I’m coming with!” he smiled. “Who else here can even handle you? I think by now, I’m professionally trained in being your babysitter.”

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter!” Chuuya snapped back.

“Don’t be embarrassed- every kid needs one!”

Before Chuuya had the chance to retort, Naomi coughed from where she was still sitting. Whoops- Chuuya might have forgotten she was there. “So, you’re willing to go with Chuuya to buy makeup products? Are you also willing to teach him how to apply it himself?”

“You wouldn’t mind if I did it myself, right?” Chuuya asked her, hoping she didn’t take it personally. She only laughed.

“You’re all good, Nakahara. Trust me, it’s just less work and I get paid the same, so really, you’re doing me a favor.”

And that was the story of how Chuuya ended up spending his evening shopping for makeup with Dazai. The brunette had to wear his mask for fear of being recognized, especially for something related to Stray Dogs, since the cast list hadn’t even been released yet. He was also dressed in a style that no one would’ve expected from him, so unless people were really looking, he wouldn’t be recognized. Hopefully.

It was almost ironic that Chuuya was constantly called a child, when the second they stepped into the store, Dazai rushed to one of the stands, calling out, “This color is so pretty! Chibi, you should try it!”

When Chuuya begrudgingly walked over, he saw a deep brown lipstick that Dazai was showing off so proudly, “We’re getting natural makeup, idiot. Not this bullshit.”

Dazai pouted exaggeratedly. What a drama queen. “Fine! I guess you’re right. Where should we start?”

“I dunno, Dazai. That’s the entire reason you’re here,” he blinked aggressively. “What’s the first step to makeup?”

There was quiet for a second, and then Dazai smiled, “Lipstick.”

“Be serious for once in your life!” Chuuya punched Dazai’s arm, making him whine in response. “I know that it’s not fucking lipstick. It’s one of the things that goes all over your face.”

“It’s primer,” Dazai huffed, “You’re no fun, Chibiko. The primer section’s over here.”

All of the bottles were labeled with different helping points- one saying “hydrating” and another with “color correcting” and more with other labels that Chuuy didn’t know. He frowned and crouched down, picking up the hydrating one. “Dazai, is my skin dry?”

“How would I even know that?” he asked, but before he could continue speaking, Chuuya grabbed his hand and placed it on his face.

“Is that like- normal dryness of skin? Or should I get the hydrating one?” Chuuya moved the hand up and down his cheek a few times before letting go. When there was no immediate response, Chuuya turned back and looked up at Dazai.

It took another second for Dazai to shake his head and blink a few times, then he answered, “Your skin feels pretty hydrated.”

“Hm,” Chuuya turned back to the primers. “I don’t think I need color correction. Illuminating sounds good- should I get that?”

“That’s what I use,” Dazai hummed. “Plus, the brand you’re holding is pretty good too.”

Without another word, Chuuya placed it in his basket, standing up and walking some more. “What next?”

“Foundation.”

“Lead the way,” Chuuya followed Dazai, though it was barely two steps from where they already were. For foundation, it was something that was meant to be your skin tone- that much Chuuya knew. “Any recommendations?”

“Well, first off, make sure to get a color that matches your neck. That’s the important part,” Dazai instructed, grabbing one of the ‘Try Me!’ foundations and swatching it on his neck. Too light. “From there, I personally like to use a pump, but other people like using a dropper- or a wand even. There are also ones that you just pour out, but you’re weird if you use that.”

Chuuya nodded, taking all of the information in. It was a little overwhelming, seeing so many options. He took one of the ‘Try Me!’ bottles off of the shelf, but Dazai grabbed his wrist to stop him. “This is a cool toned foundation, and it’s far too yellow-y for your skin,” he then grabbed another bottle of the same brand and dipped some of it on the back of his hand. “This should work better for you. Lift your head?”

As he spoke, he put his finger in the foundation, about to swatch it on Chuuya’s neck. Was Chuuya going insane or was this… intimate? Well, it obviously wasn’t meant to be, but Chuuya tensed up at the idea of lifting his head for Dazai to touch his neck. Dazai noticed it.

“Oh, shit,” he widened his eyes in realization, “You can do it yourself if that’s more comfortable.”

Chuuya didn’t say anything, only dipping his finger in what was left on Dazai’s hand and swatching it on his neck. “How is it?”

“There are mirrors for a reason, Chibi,” Dazai hummed. “Oh, are you too short to reach any of them? My bad-”

He was cut off by a kick to the leg. Deserved. Chuuya looked in the mirror, pushing his long hair back to get a better view of the swatch, “Damn, you’re good.”

“Of course, I am! How dare you ever doubt me?” his hand was over his heart and he pouted like a wounded puppy. Chuuya huffed.

“Get over yourself.”

“How’s the texture? Sensory feel okay?”

“It feels fine right now… I guess we’ll see,” he grabbed a bottle of the product they’d just tried, placing it in the basket. “Now?”

“Concealer. Looks like you really need some,” Dazai nodded solemnly.

Despite not knowing what concealer was, Chuuya immediately took offense to that, “As if! I don’t need shit to make myself look pretty- not all of us are as naturally ugly as you.”

The end was entirely a bluff, but that wasn’t for Dazai to know. His ego was big enough without him knowing that Chuuya found him insanely attractive.

“These also look like they’re skin toned- how’s it different from foundation?” Chuuya frowned as he pulled a few warm-toned concealers out of their places, holding them against his neck.

And then he felt like an idiot when Dazai explained that they were meant to be lighter. Most of the basic pieces went on like this, with limited bickering and a lot of boring explanations that Chuuya knew he wouldn’t remember. While they were in that section, they also picked up brushes and sponges- each brush having a different use that Chuuya still wouldn’t remember. It felt more and more embarrassing the longer he was in the store. He should’ve known this stuff, but it wasn’t like any of the Sheep were ever able to have makeup and the Flags weren’t interested in it either- other than Lippmann, but he always did it on his own. Sometimes Albatross begged him to do his eyeliner because every time Albatross did it himself, he’d end up looking hilarious. Chuuya smiled at the memory while they passed the eyeliners.

“Do you want some?” Dazai asked Chuuya, who was forced to snap back into reality.

“Huh?”

“You were staring at the eyeliners,” he pointed out. “Just because you aren’t gonna wear it for Kensuke doesn’t mean you can’t buy it.”

“I don’t know how much money you think I have-”

“Chibi, I’m rich. It’s on me,” Dazai raised an eyebrow as if Chuuya was crazy for assuming that he was paying for himself.

“Fuck no! I’m sure as hell not letting myself owe you anything,” Chuuya shot back. “I’m paying.”

“You’re literally spending hundreds on makeup that you don’t know shit about and might not wear after this job. A hundred dollars to me is like a penny to you- I’ll pay.”

“Are you calling me poor?” he teased.

“Yup. Absolutely, I am. So I’m paying.” Dazai grabbed a liquid eyeliner from in front of them. “And for the record, you don’t owe me for it.”

After a second, he let out a sigh, “Only for half of the products.”

“Deal,” he smiled. The eyeliner didn’t have any that they were able to try, which upset Chuuya since part of him wanted to put some on and look ridiculous. Maybe it was for the best.

Their last stop was the lipstick section, where Chuuya was absolutely unsure about anything. Lipstick was just an odd area to him since everything just felt too red or orange or pink or… Every color was just wrong.

“I think Naomi just uses red on the inside of your lips and then blends it out with your natural color,” Dazai looked at the different lipsticks and glosses for one that looked suitable.

“I didn’t know you were paying such close attention to my lips,” Chuuya smirked. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to kiss me.”

“Who says I don’t, baby?” the mask blocked Dazai’s lips, but the ‘mwah’ noise let Chuuya know that he blew a kiss, which Chuuya fake-barfed at. After a second, he spoke again, “Was the other lip stuff too sticky or too… smooth?”

“Too sticky. I hated the way my lips felt every time I closed them,” he shivered at the memory of the feeling.

“This should be about the right color and isn’t sticky,” Dazai pulled out a red lipstick. It looked right in terms of color, but Chuuya didn’t trust himself to really know that. He went with whatever Dazai thought, placing the red lipstick in his basket to complete his haul.

The urge to sneak a certain brown lipstick into his basket was strong though.

Once they’d bought all of the products, they made their way to Dazai’s hotel room in order to teach Chuuya how to use his newly purchased makeup. As much as Chuuya would’ve felt more comfortable going back to his apartment, Tachihara could’ve been doing anything with anyone and Dazai didn’t share with anyone anyways.

“Holy shit, you are rich.”

Chuuya swore that his jaw dropped at the sight of Dazai’s massive hotel room. When he was told that they were going to a hotel, he pictured one of the small ones from Holiday Inn or something similar. Definitely not what he just walked into. He tried to put his stuff down on Dazai’s desk when he walked in, but the desk was so full that he just decided to carry it with him. Damn.

Dazai chuckled from behind him, closing the door as they entered and taking off his mask, “You like it?”

“This room looks more expensive than my yearly rent.”

“It probably is,” Dazai walked past, moving his desk chair to face his bed and patting it. “C’mon. Sit.”

“I’m not a dog,” Chuuya grumbled but obeyed, sitting on the bed across from Dazai’s chair.

“You’re my dog,” he smiled. “Chuuya, bark!”

“Shut the hell up!”

“Good boy!”

“I’ll throw you out your own goddamn window!”

“Calm now,” Dazai pulled out the primer, handing it to Chuuya. “Okay, just put some on your fingertips, and then smooth it out around your whole face.”

When Chuuya started applying it, his bangs stuck to his forehead uncomfortably, so he used his arm to try and push them out of the way. He was, very sadly, unsuccessful.

“Hold on,” the brunette stood up and walked to the other side of the bed, grabbing something from his drawer on the way. The bangs were lifted from Chuuya’s forehead and tied back with a rubber band. He leaned over and turned to face the redhead, faces too close. Too close. “Better?”

Chuuya nodded, unable to move his head further away, though. “Yeah. Better.”

“Good.”

Moving onto foundation, Chuuya was about to apply it to his fingertips the way he’d done with the primer. “Nope, nope!”

“What now?” Chuuya huffed.

“Put some on the back of your hand,” Dazai grabbed Chuuya’s hand and turned it over, then pumped some foundation onto it. “Then grab a sponge- a wet one- and use that to apply it.”

Dazai grabbed a sponge and went to the bathroom to wet it on his own. Chuuya took that time to take deep breaths- they weren’t even sitting that close, but it made Chuuya conscious of everything he was doing. It was anxiety-inducing for some reason.

“This is how wet it should be,” he handed the sponge to Chuuya. “And you should just dip that in the foundation and apply it to your face evenly.”

“How would I know when it’s even?”

Dazai’s mouth opened for a second, then closed. “Well, you would normally be looking in a mirror, but I forgot to get- You can use my phone?”

“I can use mine, it’s fine.”

And so Chuuya did, applying foundation to the best of his abilities while Dazai simply… watched. “Is this good?”

“Uh,” Dazai tilted his head and looked, “It’s a little patchy, but that’s normal for your first time. Do you mind if I…?”

Chuuya handed him the sponge back, and he dipped it in the foundation again. He then started dabbing it on the spots that Chuuya missed earlier. “When you dab the sponge, it makes it less noticeable. When you swipe it, the lines are pretty clear and it makes it obvious that you’re wearing makeup. The goal is to make the audience think that you have naturally flawless skin.”

Ignoring their close proximity, Chuuya gave a breathy laugh, “I do have naturally flawless skin.”

“I hate that that’s the truth,” Dazai whispered as if Chuuya couldn’t hear it from the mere centimeters between them. After a second, Dazai backed up, “It’s good. And I didn’t know you had freckles.”

“Oh, yeah,” Chuuya brought his hand up to his cheeks by instinct. “The foundation covers them, right?”

“Unfortunately.”

Chuuya didn’t know what he meant by that.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that it was weirdly comfortable for Dazai to do his makeup. He didn’t mind when Dazai had been applying his foundation, or even later when he had to fix most of Chuuya’s rookie mistakes. And despite being an expert on the topic, Dazai didn’t make fun of Chuuya’s inexperience once, which he couldn’t help but appreciate. Maybe he really wasn’t an asshole.

“Wanna try your hand at eyeliner already?” Dazai wiggled his shoulders with an encouraging smile.

Part of Chuuya really did want to try it, but the other half of him knew that he was going to screw up all of the work they’d already done on his face and he didn’t want to ruin everything. He could figure out eyeliner by himself. It wasn’t Dazai’s job to teach him that. So he just raised an eyebrow and looked at Dazai questioningly, “Isn’t this supposed to be the look for Kensuke?”

“Yeah, but I think we can all agree that he’d be hotter with a cat wing.”

“I think you’d be hotter if you never spoke,” Chuuya retorted.

“You calling me hot, Nakahara? I’m flattered!” Dazai smiled with a gasp, dramatically putting a hand to his heart.

“Hell no! You’d go from negative ten to negative nine.”

“And this is what I get for trying to be nice,” he mimicked crying. “I get it, I get it! You needn’t comfort me! I’ll simply drown in a puddle of my own tears.”

Chuuya couldn’t help but let out a laugh at his exaggerated motions, “C’mon, you big baby. Let’s get this finished.”

There wasn’t much left to do after he’d finished the eyeshadow. Mascara ended up being the epitome of terror to him, as well as using an eyelash curler. They were supposed to make his eyelashes look longer, but he thought they were fine on their own. He didn’t need a pokey stick and eyeball crusher to be right up next to his vulnerable face. With a bit of comfort from Dazai, Chuuya managed to do it on his own- not allowing Dazai to do it for him. Despite Dazai knowing what he was doing, no one was getting that close to his eye with that thing. Finally, they reached their final piece.

When Chuuya applied his lipstick, Dazai immediately handed him a makeup wipe, “What’d I do wrong?”

“You only apply it to the very center of your lips,” Dazai pointed it out on his own lips. Chuuya felt awkward staring at them. “There. And then you use your finger to dab it, making it smudge out and create a nice effect.”

“Like this?” Chuuya tried again, spreading the lipstick with his index finger.

Dazai frowned, “No…” then with a sigh, he gave Chuuya the makeup wipe again. “Do you mind if I…?”

“Yeah, no, you’re good,” Chuuya blinked a few times. It was awkward. It really was.

Either Dazai didn’t notice the obvious, strange feeling in the air or he was really good at pretending because he simply applied a few dots of lipstick on Chuuya’s inner lip and used his finger to dab at it lightly. He’d started standing, using his other hand to tilt Chuuya’s head upwards and give him a firmer hold on Chuuya. When Naomi had done it, it didn’t feel like there was this much tension in the room. Maybe that was because there were more people around doing the same thing. Or maybe that was an entirely professional setting and they had no relation outside of that.

But wasn’t this an entirely professional setting?

Perhaps being in a hotel room wasn’t the peak of professionality, but they were simply two coworkers doing a work-related activity. They didn’t have any relationship outside of that either. They hardly knew each other outside of light bickering and somewhat harsher bickering on set. Dazai Osamu was nothing but a simple coworker who Chuuya didn’t get along well with. Most of the time. Some of the time.

“You’re done,” Dazai sat down again, tilting his head as if he were examining Chuuya. “I think it looks perfect.”

“Of course, you think your work looks perfect,” Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully as he tried to get himself away from the weird thoughts he had about the lipstick. “I’ll be there tomorrow and it’s going to look a million times better than this.”

Dazai laughed, “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it will. Now get over yourself and look in the mirror.”

He followed Dazai into the bathroom to get an actually accurate look at himself, turning the mirror lights on for better lighting. Facing every angle, he examined himself, making sure he looked good, “Maybe it looks alright, asshole. But I can still do better than you.”

“Yeah? Message me when you find out that you need me,” Dazai hummed, leaning over to be closer in height to Chuuya.

Chuuya elbowed him in the stomach, making him hunch over further in pain. He smirked happily, “As if I’d need you, Mackerel.”

After they’d cleaned up their mess- which was really just the makeup products that Dazai didn’t put back in Chuuya’s bags- Dazai spoke up before Chuuya had the chance to leave. “Neither of us has had dinner yet, have we?”

And of course, it’s a rhetorical question. They’d been with each other since one and it was now nearing nine. Both of them had skipped dinner.

“I’ve only been here for like- two weeks and I’ve only had fast food and whatever Akiko force-feeds me for nutrition,” Dazai looked out his window. The view from his hotel room was upsettingly good, which reminded Chuuya of how awful the view from the windows was back at the orphanage. “Do you wanna take me to get something actually decent?”

Chuuya bit the inside of his lip. Internally letting out a sigh, he resorted to teasing with a smile on his face, “I thought that it was such a struggle to babysit me after work?”

“Yeah, well, I gotta get my dog some food!” Dazai teased back.

“Tachihara and I have plans for dinner tonight,” Chuuya admitted. “And besides, I’ve seen you more than enough today- I’ll be too sick of you by tomorrow.”

“My poor dog is running off with another person! How heartbreaking!” he gasped dramatically, before turning to Chuuya with a pout. “I’m already sick of you, slug. So get out of here before there’s slime all over my room.”

“Suddenly, the rest of my day is free to just slime up everything you own.”

“No, no! The terror!”

“You’re gonna wake up tomorrow morning and you won’t even be able to walk anywhere because of all the slime.”

“Shoo! Shoo!” Dazai turned his head away from Chuuya, flicking his wrist to hit him away.

Allowing himself to laugh at the brunette, Chuuya grabbed his bags and started heading towards the door, “Your shooing worked, I suppose. I’m banished from your abode until the morrow.”

“You’re such a nerd,” he teased, sitting on his bed and watching Chuuya leave. “I hope you die before tomorrow!”

“I hope you die first!”

Despite the friendly bickering, despite his laughter and smiles, when Chuuya got back to his apartment, he rushed past Tachihara and went straight to his room, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. Everything was okay. Play some French music.

And he hadn’t even seen the articles yet.

Chapter Text

“Dazai.”

An unwanted voice called as he entered Dazai’s room, closing the door behind him. When Dazai looked up from his phone, he was met with sharp eyes and a smile that could only be described as manipulative. Refusing to give him more than a simple hum or any sort of respect, he turned back to his phone. “What’s up?”

“I hear you’ve been going out without my permission,” Mori walked over to his desk, picking up one of Dazai’s trinkets and examining it. His snowglobe. Part of Dazai screamed at him in his head- put it down. “Do you have anything you want to tell me first?”

Many possibilities rushed through Dazai’s mind, but he had no clue how Mori could’ve found out about them. He made it a point to dress differently when he went out, wore a mask, and even changed his makeup to make his eyes look different. If anyone recognized him while he was out drinking, anyone could easily make an argument that it wasn’t Dazai. He knew Akiko would even vouch and say she was with him if the allegations continued. There wasn’t a single worry in his mind when Mori had spoken those falsely safe words. So Dazai didn’t even glance back up at his agent, “Nope. What I do is none of your business.”

“Ah, but it is my business,” he set the item back down, sitting on Dazai’s bed and trying to make eye contact. Dazai shifted away from him, forcing his eyes to glue to his phone. “I own you. But beyond that, I care about you, and I know how these things can influence your entire career. You’re already starring in a movie of this sort- do you need to give people more reason to think that you’re…?”

“What are you talking about?” Dazai finally looked up and set his phone down, unsure of what Mori was talking about. There was no proof- no indications- that Dazai was gay. Because he wasn’t. So whatever Mori was talking about made no sense and could easily be cleared up. Did someone actually mistake another person for him? Maybe this was something that he could just laugh off and simply-

“Yesterday evening, you went out with your coworker, Nakahara Chuuya, after work, did you not?”

No. Not Chuuya.

Mori wasn’t allowed to know about Chuuya.

“We needed to buy him makeup for the movie,” he explained. “Nothing more. What’s he got to do with this?”

But Dazai already knew where this was heading.

“I don’t see why you two found it necessary to be holding hands while picking out makeup,” Mori raised an eyebrow. “Nor for him to hold it so close to his face.”

“We can address them and say it wasn’t me. Easy.”

“You really are a child, aren’t you, Dazai?” he gave a menacing smile and reached his hand toward Dazai’s face. Dazai smacked it away quickly. Mori wasn’t allowed to touch him. “What happens when the cast list comes out and they realize that it makes sense for the two lead roles to be out together? By denying it now, you look like a liar later. Nakahara didn’t even hide himself at all- it’d be obvious to see that this person was related to you somehow.”

“Okay, fine. Let them talk. Rumors start and then they end, so what?”

“Whether you like it or not, your image matters, and having this kind of rumor taints what we’ve worked so hard for. All that you’ve gone through just for this to ruin it?” Mori tilted his head with a concerned look on his face. Dazai hated how perfectly Mori could pretend to be caring. “And it isn’t like this situation is unfixable. We can combat it without even addressing it.”

“And how do you want to do that?” he huffed. Mori was right, as much as Dazai hated to admit it. If they could hide years of trauma, drinking, drugs, and suicide attempts, a rumor about dating a man couldn’t be the thing to bring him down. Especially because it was just that. A rumor. There was nothing more going on between him and Chuuya and there never would be. After this movie, they would never even see each other again. (Even if that stung when Dazai thought about it.)

“Back when Yosano was…” the agent thought for a second, “misbehaving, there were rumors about her being romantically involved with another actor, but the press never specified who.”

“Yeah,” Dazai sighed, immediately understanding what was being asked of him. “Fine. I’ll date her. Is that all?”

Mori stood up, brushing off his clothes as if Dazai’s room was dirty in the slightest, “I also wanted to say that this is a warning, Dazai. Before every outing, you must ask me for permission. If an incident like this happens again, I won’t be as lenient as I am now.”

As much as Dazai wanted to fuss- to tell him that he was capable of making his own choices- this was a losing battle. It didn’t mean that he would start letting Mori know of his whereabouts, but he couldn’t argue without repercussions. Instead, he sighed, “Alright.”

“After your interview tomorrow, you and Yosano better be the top headline,” Mori walked toward the door and opened it. “Don’t disappoint me.”

With that, Mori was gone.

Half of Dazai was grateful that no one had caught him at a club or stealing bottles of whiskey. If Mori found that, there would’ve been no saving his image- nor saving himself. Not that he deserved to be saved anymore.

The other half of Dazai was panicking, feeling like this was a worse scenario than the alternative. If he were caught doing drugs or stealing, that would’ve been on Dazai and Dazai alone. He can handle backlash, he can handle Mori, he can handle his own mind yelling at him. Chuuya’s strong, but he cared too much about other people. It was evident; Chuuya couldn’t hide his emotions. Even in the span of two days, the hate that he would receive would be too much. The comments on the first article Dazai saw managed to confirm that.

“if hes gay his bf should at least be hot”

“am i the only one who thinks that boy is ugly as hell bc like… damn dazai raise your standards”

“I’m better than whoever that redhead is. Dazai give me one chance!”

“bro needs to go on a diet- dazai deserves better fr”

“is he really that short????? yall bffr…”

“His clothes are so tacky… Sorry guys, but did he look in a mirror before putting that on?”

And maybe Dazai knew that he shouldn’t keep reading because what comments weren’t hating Chuuya were hating gay people in general, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. It was the razor that he just kept slicing along his skin. He knew that he couldn’t be interested in men- he knew it was wrong of him. But everything they said about Chuuya was just… wrong. How could these people not see that Chuuya Nakahara was the most beautiful person alive? How couldn’t they tell that Chuuya was perfect? These idiots knew nothing.

Occasionally, there was a comment calling them a cute couple, but those hurt worse for whatever reason. It shouldn’t have any effect on Dazai. Dazai had no feelings for Chuuya, not even of friendship. They were simply coworkers- nothing more. Sometimes, if you scrolled further, there were comments defending Chuuya and saying that he was attractive and that it didn’t matter as long as Dazai was happy with him. If Dazai had a non-famous account, he would’ve liked it. If he wasn’t a coward, he would retweet it, even if the allegations weren’t true in the first place. Another article commented on…

Hold on.

Had someone followed-

Pick up. Pick up. Please pick up the phone.

“Odasaku!” Dazai sighed a breath of relief, praying that the older couldn’t hear it from the phone. “Let’s go drinking!”

“It’s nine in the morning. You work today,” the rough voice came from the other side of the phone. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be sober now?”

In the distance, Ango’s voice was heard with a yawn, “Who is it?”

“Dazai.”

“What’s he want? Is everything okay?” Ango’s immediately sounded more alert and then closer to the phone as he spoke.

“Is it?” Odasaku asked. Dazai didn’t really know how to answer. He didn’t like lying to his best friend, but this wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. It seemed that the two had just woken up, so they likely hadn’t heard the news. Maybe he should pretend while he still could.

“Of course. I just missed you and wanted to go drinking like old times!” Dazai smiled as if Odasaku could see him through the phone. He was glad the redhead couldn’t. If he could, he’d see the tears that started to form in Dazai’s eyes.

It wasn’t even a big deal though. This wouldn’t be like last time. And if it was, that would be fine, because nothing bad happened anyways. There was no reason for him to cry over it. He was just being overdramatic.

“We can meet up without drinking, you know that right?” There was some shuffling, which Dazai assumed was Odasaku getting ready for the day.

“C’mon, Odasaku!” he whined, dragging out his friend’s name. “I’ve been sober ever since last time, so I deserve a little something for my hard work!”

“Don’t listen to him, love,” Ango called from the other line tiredly. “One drink is gonna turn into two and suddenly he’s gonna be destroying his liver again.”

Ango was right- that’s how it was after Dazai’s second week sober. He tried really hard that time, he did, and hard work should be rewarded, right? That night, Dazai allowed himself a drink when he was still in Tokyo. It wasn’t too long before flying to Yokohama for his role as Shuji. And when he’d gotten to Yokohama, it was almost like whiskey was everywhere he turned. He tried.

Ever since, he’d been lying to everyone he came across, except Yosano. Days that he went without even having one glass were rare at this point. Thankfully, days that he had more than two bottles were rare too, now. (Though he wouldn’t mention that it was due to the amount of work he had and how little opportunities he had to steal it.)

“I can control myself! I promise!”

“You can come over to our place,” Odasaku compromised. “No alcohol, but we’re free to talk if you want.”

There was no convincing Odasaku, so Dazai sighed, accepting that this was the best he’d get, “Fine. I’ll be there soon!”

He left his room quickly, rushing off before even bothering to change out of yesterday’s clothes or brushing his teeth. All he grabbed was a mask to cover his face. If they found Odasaku…

It’d been forever since he’d gotten to visit Odasaku, since he had jobs in every city every so often. Even for the month he’d been in Yokohama, he didn’t have the time to visit Odasaku- one or both of them were always busy. But now, he was ready to walk all the way to Odasaku and Ango’s house- a place that Dazai had long memorized the address of. He could locate it from anywhere in the town, he’d bet.

By the time he reached the house, he was out of breath from running- had he been running this whole time? Dazai didn’t even know. He just knocked on the door, making a small rhythm with it, “Your favorite person’s here!”

Odasaku opened the door quickly, standing expressionless in the door. The second they locked eyes, Dazai rushed to hug him, holding his waist tightly- as if he’d disappear if Dazai let go. After a second of surprise, Odasaku put one hand on his back and the other ruffled his hair, “Hey there, kid. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Dazai felt tears start to well up in his eyes and he started to choke on his breath.

No. No crying.

“I didn’t get a hug when you saw me again,” Ango spoke from inside the house, taking a sip of his coffee. He walked over to his husband and Dazai, rubbing his shoulder lovingly.

“That’s because you made me act,” the youngest whined, still refusing to pull himself out of Odasaku’s arms.

“It’s almost like that’s your job, idiot,” he chuckled, but the affection was still evident in his voice. “C’mon, you two. Let’s at least get inside the house and close the door. The world doesn’t need to know that we live here.”

And that made Dazai’s breath hitch, immediately shoving himself off of his best friend and closing the door behind him.

“You’re upset,” Odasaku pointed out.

“No, I’m not?” he played dumb, letting out a laugh. “You’re so silly, Odasaku.”

Before Odasaku had the chance to simply agree with what Dazai was saying, Ango spoke up, “No, Dazai. He’s right. What’s going on?”

Dazai laid down on their tan couch, spreading himself on all the cushions so that no one was able to be next to him. Ango sat in the seat across from him, setting his coffee mug down on the table.

“Have you been on Twitter?” Dazai sighed, knowing that if he was going to tell anyone, it’d be them. Ango and Odasaku were there for him through everything. They were his safety and they deserved to hear everything from him, rather than letting them worry later.

“No,” they both shook their head and pulled out their phones at the exact same time. The two really were soulmates.

“Are you talking about the rumors of you and Nakahara?” Ango furrowed his eyebrows, scrolling and adjusting his glasses.

“He seems like a nice kid. Good for you,” Odasaku nodded.

“I’m not gay,” Dazai pouted. Odasaku and Ango shared a look, but Dazai couldn’t be bothered with whatever that meant at the moment. “And that’s not the issue- well, part of it is, but that’s not the main issue. Look at the second article.”

Ango reads from the second article out loud, ““Demon Prodigy of Acting, Dazai Osamu, and an unknown male of similar age spotted walking back to… his hotel room.” Oh, sweetie.”

Even Odasaku, who was stoic at seemingly all times, let his jaw drop and his face twist in concern. Dazai bit his lip as hard as possible to prevent tears from pouring out. Why was he like this? When Ango started walking over to Dazai for comfort, Dazai held up a hand to stop him, “No. I don’t need comfort- I’m fine.”

His voice breaking on the last word didn’t help his case, but Ango didn’t want to push Dazai’s boundaries, especially now. “Do you need to take today off? Oh, who am I kidding- you do. I’ll change today’s call list and make sure they can shoot a different scene.”

“No, it’s really okay.”

“You being okay with working only convinces me that you aren’t okay,” Ango frowned.

Dazai sent him an annoyed look, knowing that it didn’t have the same effect when his face was red in an attempt to stop crying.

“Stay with us for a while,”

“Odasaku, as much as I would love to, Mori would have my head,” Dazai started laughing for no reason at all, the tears finally starting to fall. Ango kneeled on the ground, looking at Dazai with what Dazai could only describe as pure worry.

“He can’t let you stay at a hotel room that everyone knows you’re at,” he spoke simply. “I won’t let him.”

“It doesn’t matter what you do, he knows how to counter it. Filming won’t take more than another month or two- I can handle it for that long.”

“No, Osamu, you can’t,” Ango furrowed his eyebrows, speaking firmly. “I will speak to Mori directly and demand that you stay here- or at least get somewhere else to stay as long as you’re here. I’m not allowing you to sleep in an unsafe place.”

“You’re not my dad,” Dazai choked out.

“But we care about you like we are.”

Odasaku’s voice made Dazai only want to cry harder. He sounded so genuine- and not that Dazai had ever questioned if Odasaku cared about him, but the assurance felt like a hug around his heart. The words were like bandages holding it together. “He’ll know. Mori will know that I’m here and he’ll ruin you guys. I’m already too far past saving, but you two deserve better.”

“I don’t care what he does. Your safety comes first.”

“And what will we do when Mori leaks your address to the press?” Dazai’s voice was more emotional than it’d been in years. He didn’t know he was capable of fear anymore. Didn’t know he could cry still. “Then I still don’t have a safe place to sleep and I’ve taken your own fucking home away from you.”

“Osamu…”

“It’s okay, guys. I’ll be okay,” he sat up, wiping his tears as they continued to fall, “I’m just being overdramatic about it.”

“You’re traumatized. There’s nothing overdramatic about that!” Ango snapped, but immediately regretted it as he saw Dazai flinch. “I’m sorry. But I’d be shocked if you had a less extreme reaction to this. What happened to you was horrible- you’re right to be scared that it’ll happen again.”

“Lots of people have known where my hotels were. Something bad only happened to me once- therefore, it’s irrational,” Dazai reasoned, knowing that he was just trying to invalidate himself. If he finally realized that he was overreacting, maybe he would stop acting like a giant baby. “And I barely even remember it. I can’t be traumatized by something I don’t remember.”

“We both know that’s not true,” Odasaku hesitantly took a seat next to Dazai, putting an arm on his far shoulder and pulling him into his chest. “Cry. You’re safe here.”

That was Dazai’s cue to let out full sobs. Once he started, they were unstoppable; every time he tried to breathe, it sounded like a desperate gasp for air. He felt like he was drowning, like he had been for years. Odasaku and Ango had sent him a lifeboat, welcoming him with open arms. But he didn’t want to risk drowning them too. He’d been in the sea for so long already, he was used to the ice cold water and harsh waves. His friends didn’t need to endure what they didn’t have to just for a chance at helping someone who accepted death a long time ago. They still thought he was sober. Still thought he was clean. They didn’t know the truth.

Dazai wanted to tell them- to let them know how futile it was to consider helping him. How they shouldn’t even want to associate with him, really. But he couldn’t do anything other than sob into Odasaku’s chest while he whispered soft words and ran a hand along his back. He didn’t deserve this comfort. He should go run to some pharmacy and down a bottle of acetaminophen until he passed out. He should find some bridge and jump down, see the view as he fell.

But all he could do was let out soft cries, all the pain from his fifteen-year-old self resurfacing. He didn’t cry when it happened, nor did he cry after. He didn’t cry when he told Odasaku or Ango about it. He never let himself grieve his old, now-dead innocence.

Even when the clock hit one, Ango refused to leave until Dazai promised that he would be okay for the next few hours. Dazai didn’t know if he could keep it, but he promised anyway. Odasaku told him that he could stay as long as he needed- as long as he wanted, but Dazai shook his head. He needed to get back before Mori knew he was ever gone. His eyes occasionally leaked water on his way back, wetting his mask as he walked. It wasn’t too long of a walk anyways, he could deal with the uncomfortable stickiness against his cheek.

When he got back to the hotel room that day, he searched every corner, every hidden spot. He showered for the first time in what might’ve been a week, scrubbing at his body harshly, until every inch of it was red from irritation. Until his cuts opened up and bled all over the skin he’d just cleaned. He refused to get out, allowing his skin to burn from the boiling water pouring down on him.

Once he almost passed out, he let himself step out of the steam, getting ready for the day quickly.

Ango insisted that he shouldn’t go to work that day, but part of him felt like he needed to. Regardless of whether or not he was called, he needed to see Chuuya and make sure that he was okay. He needed to be okay.

It wasn’t Dazai’s plan to hide away from everyone on set- he was going to actually go and talk to Chuuya and Ango and Akiko, who was finally called for a scene when Dazai wasn’t going to be there. When he got there though, he entirely froze up while watching Chuuya perform his scene. The set itself was at the park, which Dazai was thankful didn’t change with the switches to the call list. The trees allowed him to watch Chuuya without being spotted or interrupting anything.

One look at Chuuya told Dazai exactly why they’d chosen him for the lead. His eyes were pointed at the ground near Akiko’s feet as the swing moved around under him. Strands of hair fell out of his ponytail, perfectly framing his face and- did he really do his own makeup today? Because it looked so beautiful. He was so beautiful. And his lines were read with such care, such delicacy. Everything he said was so emotional. So human. So Chuuya.

The scene of Sho and Kensuke’s breakup finished quickly, though Dazai did get there extremely late, so who knew how many times it took? He was ready to go up to his favorite Chibi and start teasing him, at least to see how he reacted to it. But Chuuya didn’t even talk to another staff member before grabbing his clothing from the cart and heading to the changing rooms. Normally he stayed and chatted with some of the staff before heading off.

When Chuuya got out of the changing room, perhaps that was the biggest sign that something was off. Rather than his usual fashion that he prided himself on daily, he was wearing an oversized hoodie and sweatpants- outside in late July, nonetheless. There was something wrong, but Chuuya’s aura screamed ‘no one talk to me’. Dazai noticed Ango sending Chuuya concerned looks as the redhead left, not even taking off his makeup before walking away.

I’m sorry.

Dazai thought that maybe it was for the best that he didn’t have a chance to talk to Chuuya. Maybe this was a sign that he should forget about Chuuya. Maybe this was a sign that all he does is hurt people.

He walked back to his hotel room without a second thought. It was only four- they’d only been working for three hours. Ango was likely being lenient with the amount of work for the day, since Chuuya was obviously not feeling his best and Dazai had stupidly worried Ango as well.

Maybe Dazai should just catch up on sleep. Ignore all of the messages from Ango that sent the second he got off work and the one that Odasaku sent not too long after Ango finished spamming him. There was no point in worrying them further and he didn’t trust his ability to respond without having another overly emotional reaction. So he tossed and turned in his bed, mind unable to rest in the unsafe room. His curtains were already closed, door locked. He was safe. Knowing that he was being irrational, he still wasn’t able to sleep for another hour.

He woke up at three in the morning after perhaps the worst nightmare he could’ve experienced. Aching head. Fluffy hair. Blurring vision. Pink lace.

There was no going back to sleep.

Chapter Text

Chuuya couldn’t sleep.

As if his insomnia wasn’t bad enough already, the articles that flooded his social media were burned into his brain. Messages from Gin, Higuchi, his old college friends- even the countless questions from Tachihara didn’t bother him. He didn’t care if people thought that he was dating Dazai Osamu. When he saw the first article, he even laughed because the idea was so funny to him; Dazai was straight, that was made very clear.

That laughter faded as he started reading the comments.

He knew what fifteen-year-old him would say. Fuck them. They don’t know you. You’re a strong, confident, very attractive person and no one can do anything to convince you otherwise.

But he felt like he was nineteen again, sitting in his fashion class, helping his classmates with their final project. When he closed his eyes, he saw their faces, heard their laughter. Why didn’t he just punch them? Why didn’t he just go off on them like he always thought he would’ve? He just took off the shirt, apologizing to them for wasting their time.

He thought he was getting better.

Throughout the work day, Sakaguchi had tried to talk to him time and time again, but Chuuya only heard the mocking of his old classmates. The tears that fell while filming were entirely accidental, but he played them off well enough. Kensuke didn’t have dumb problems like Chuuya did- he had real things to cry about. Important things in his life that would matter for the years to come. He wasn’t dwelling on his past.

Part of him swore that he’d seen Dazai while walking back to his car, but he must’ve been crazy. It made him think about how he must be doing though. Dazai couldn’t be effected by the press anymore, Chuuya was sure; even if he took the time to read any of it, there was nothing that could’ve mattered to him. Shaming someone for a sexuality they don’t even have can’t hurt too badly. But that only made Chuuya question why the call list had changed so suddenly.

Chuuya turned in his bed, unable to find a single comfortable position. His stomach ached in pain, but he forced himself to ignore it. He tried his best to focus. What would Lippmann do?

“You know what to do, Chuuya. Talk to someone. Talk to him. He’ll find you an out, I have a good feeling about it,” Lippmann’s figure smiled at Chuuya, putting his hand on Chuuya’s cheek and rubbing it softly with his thumb. His French was so beautiful, Chuuya felt ashamed that he ever wanted the Flags to speak in Japanese with him. “I wish I could’ve seen you when you were eighteen. All the hard work and strength you have now, but the same confidence you had we first met.”

“I wish you could’ve seen me too,” he whispered back, reaching for his friend, but the figure disappeared right in front of him. “I wish you could see me.”

Even though Chuuya knew that Lippmann was nothing more than a shadow and a memory- a reflection of Chuuya’s thoughts projected onto one of the people he trusted most- he still took the advice to heart. Dazai had been an actor for his entire life, he could help Chuuya deal with this.

He thought back to the makeup. It wasn’t a serious subject by any means, but Dazai was very evidently avoiding making fun of Chuuya’s lack of knowledge. He took the time to make sure Chuuya was comfortable before doing anything. Even with Chuuya’s panic attack, about a week after meeting him, he sat there until Chuuya started feeling okay. He didn’t ask any questions, only listened to Chuuya and told him random anecdotes in French. Dazai might not be Chuuya’s friend, but they weren’t enemies. They were past acquaintances, even.

A normal coworker wouldn’t do that for Chuuya.

As far as Chuuya knew, these articles would change nothing between them, so he let himself act the way he would normally. Going to Dazai’s hotel room at four in the morning and waking him up seemed pretty in character. All that would happen was a quick conversation about how to ignore hate comments, talking about how they would address it (because Chuuya wanted those rumors gone as soon as possible), and then Chuuya would be on his way. And Dazai would never bring it up again, the way he hadn’t brought up the panic attack again.

Did Chuuya feel incredibly awkward while walking to the hotel in his pajamas? Yes. Yes, he did.

It wasn’t a long walk, nor was it a difficult route, so Chuuya got there rather quickly, immediately walking in the elevator and heading to Dazai’s floor. Chuuya silently prayed that he remembered which hotel room was his coworker’s, not at all trusting his memory. What else could he do? He’d already made it over here.

When Chuuya knocked on what he swore was Dazai’s door, he expected a plethora of events to occur. Dazai could’ve been sleeping, and therefore had no response- to which, Chuuya would just knock louder and yell at him. If he whined about Chuuya’s entry at four in the morning, he’d just argue back. Even the unlikely scenario of Dazai opening the door for him and talking to him softly passed through Chuuya’s mind, but he nearly laughed at the thought.

Perhaps the last thing that Chuuya expected to hear was a voice that he swore was Dazai’s screaming, “No! Don’t!”

“Dazai?” Chuuya called through the door. What was happening? “It’s me- Chuuya. I just wanted to talk, but if now is… a bad time then-”

The door opened, but only by a tiny amount, as if Dazai wanted to make extra sure that it was really Chuuya. Once he saw the redhead, he opened the door the rest of the way, allowing Chuuya entry.

If Chuuya could only describe the Dazai that he’d just seen open the door in one word, it would be disheveled. Entirely, completely disheveled. His face was red and his eyes were puffy, as if he’d been crying a lot- that didn’t seem right. His hair wasn’t the same kind of messy it normally was; instead of cute, wavy strands, his hair was going every which way, frizzing up and sticking out. A blanket was around his shoulders and he was holding it closed, not letting anyone see his body. Chuuya understood how that felt. An opened bottle of whiskey stood on his bedside table, which Chuuya could only assume he was just drinking. It was still fizzing, so it had to have been opened recently.

Dazai sat upright on his bed, not letting go of his blanket as he stared blankly at the wall, “What did you want to talk about?”

Don’t get Chuuya wrong- he knew that there was something off from the second Dazai yelled at his knock, but his voice was so void of emotion and his eyes had a far-off glance that made Chuuya somehow more worried, “Dazai, are you okay?”

“Of course, I am,” Dazai turned his head and let out a smile. It was so fake. Maybe to anyone else, it would seem real- he even forced his eyes to crinkle at the ends, almost mimicking laughter- but Chuuya couldn’t feel it at all. “Well, I was. Until an annoying dog came barking at my door so early in the morning.”

“Oh, shut it, asshole,” Chuuya gave his leg a light kick, which made him tense up, breath hitching. That didn’t happen before. Something was definitely wrong. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Chibiko. Unless you have something, which you better! You can’t interrupt my beauty sleep for nothing,” Dazai let out a pout. It didn’t feel the same when Chuuya could physically feel how uncomfortable Dazai was.

“I didn’t know you drank whiskey in your sleep,” he teased, but really just wanted Dazai to be honest with him without pushing. Was it unfair of Chuuya to want Dazai to talk when Chuuya couldn’t even do the same? Maybe Chuuya should just suck it up and talk first, but part of him felt bad dumping his issues onto Dazai when he was obviously going through his own issues. Trying his best to think of a good solution, he sat down on Dazai’s bed, keeping his distance from the other. If the kick was any indication, it seemed that Dazai didn’t want to be touched. After a moment, he sighed, “How many bottles do you have? Let’s get drunk.”

“I’m already ten steps ahead of you,” the actor let out a huff of laughter, getting off his bed only to reach under it and pull out another bottle for Chuuya, which he took happily. When he got back on his bed, he grabbed his own bottle from the table and held it toward Chuuya. “Cheers?”

“Cheers to what?” Chuuya couldn’t help but laugh, considering neither of them were in a position to be cheering. Neither of them were okay.

“Cheers to having an excuse to get shitfaced,” Dazai smiled, more genuinely this time. When Chuuya looked into his eyes, he felt the electric spark- like there was a string connecting them together. He felt Dazai’s desperation for Chuuya to stay a while. And Chuuya had no intent to leave anytime soon. Their bottles clinked, and they both took a long sip of the disgusting alcohol.

The feeling of something in his stomach, something going down his throat even, felt weird. He missed it, as much as he absolutely hated to admit it. Another swig.

“Slow down,” Dazai’s voice called, lightly tilting his bottle back down. “You’re gonna throw up.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled, already feeling a little fuzzy from the whiskey. Was now a good time to mention that he had an awful alcohol tolerance? “Too thirsty.”

“Then have some water, idiot.”

“Whiskey’s better.” Another swig.

“Okay, maybe this was a mistake,” Dazai took the already nearly-finished bottle from Chuuya’s hands, placing it on his table. “If you puke on my floor, I’m never gonna forgive you.”

“Wanna puke,” Chuuya blinked, feeling tired already. Everything was blurring together and spinning, despite him sitting still on Dazai’s bed. He wanted to lean his head on Dazai’s shoulder, but he didn’t let himself. But his head felt so heavy.

“Let’s go to the bathroom,” he stood up and held out a hand towards Chuuya, helping him stand up. Maybe Chuuya had just imagined his reaction earlier. He allowed Dazai to help him to the bathroom, sitting him on the floor with near the toilet. Easy access incase he felt like he was about to throw up.

Dazai started walking away once he’d set Chuuya down, which Chuuya’s fuzzy mind didn’t like. He didn’t want to be alone right now. He grabbed Dazai’s pant leg, tugging on it lightly.

The reaction was a whimper, a sharp “no” whispered from Dazai’s lips as his legs lost strength and he dropped to his knees, hands holding him upright on the floor. Chuuya let go immediately- it didn’t matter how drunk he was, that reaction worried him. After a second, Dazai looked back at Chuuya, eyes widening, “I didn’t- I…”

“S’ okay,” Chuuya nodded, understanding that Dazai was apologizing. It didn’t make sense to Chuuya why he would; it was obvious that something was wrong and Chuuya just wanted to help. He supposed it might be too late to help Dazai though, considering he’d gotten himself drunk already without thinking about it. Why did he lose control of himself so quickly? “I won’ touch you.”

It seemed that Dazai didn’t know how to respond, he just turning himself over and sat with his head resting on his bathtub. After a second, he gave a tight smile, “I appreciate it.”

There was silence for a while, just the two sitting there and thinking. Well, Dazai was thinking, but Chuuya just felt the whiskey in as if it was stuck in his throat. He didn’t want to throw up in front of Dazai- he really didn’t. But he really wanted to throw up.

He gave up the losing battle and hunched himself over the toilet, gagging into it, but nothing came out. After a second, he shoved his finger down his throat, needing to get everything out of his system. It wasn’t working by himself, so he just needed to do a little extra. But Dazai immediately panicked, tugging Chuuya’s finger out of his mouth. “What are you doing?”

“Throwing up?” his head was pounding with pain. His stomach was aching. His throat burned. He just needed relief. “Hurts.”

“Don’t make yourself throw up,” Dazai looked concerned. “If it’s gonna happen, it will naturally.”

“You don’ geddit,” Chuuya whined, leaning back against the wall. “You jus’ don’.”

“You’re supposed to enjoy getting drunk, idiot,” the words were harsh, yet they were spoken with a tone that was anything but. “Not spend it forcing yourself to throw up in a bathroom.”

“Yer the idiot,” he pouted, letting himself close his eyes. It was too painful to open them- it was just making him more and more dizzy.

“Of course, Chibi still insults me when he’s not even thinking straight,” Dazai teased, the words coming out more fondly than anything. Chuuya wanted more disgusting alcohol.

“M never thinkin’ straight,” Chuuya laughed at his own joke, but noticed that his laughter was the only one in the room. “Geddit? ‘Cause I’m?”

In the midst of his laughing, he felt the vomit finally come up his throat, so he hunched himself over the toilet again, allowing the liquid to escape his throat. As he coughed, more came out.

Somewhere behind him, he swore he heard Shirase’s voice, “This is what you deserve, you know? You’re so weak- I can’t believe you were ever part of us Sheep. It’s no wonder that you would choose to run off with those fucking queers. Leave us all-”

“I didn’ want to!” Chuuya cried, letting his forehead rest on the seat of the toilet. It hurt too badly.

“You didn’t want to what?” Dazai asked from next to him. When had he gotten this close? Chuuya didn’t notice.

“I didn’t want any of this,” he let tears start to fall. He wanted more alcohol; he wanted to be seventeen again- laughing with the Flags and skipping school. Back when he barely thought about his future, or his insecurities, or his inevitable fucking death. Hell, he would kill to be fourteen, actually doing something good for someone. Back when the Sheep actually cared about him. Instead, he was stuck at the age of twenty-two, doing nothing for anyone and constantly worrying about one thing or another. No one close to him either- not the way he was with the Flags or the Sheep. “I miss them.”

Chuuya felt himself sobering up, but everything still ached. Dazai’s hand was rubbing up and down his back comfortingly, and somehow that made Chuuya feel worse. He sat up and wiped his the tears off his face, “You don’t have to touch me if you aren’t comfortable.”

“I am,” Dazai looked him in the eyes. Chuuya couldn’t read his expression, but something about his words sounded genuine. “You can cry, Chuuya.”

“No, I’m seriously good now. Just got weird for a second,” he waved off, sitting back against the wall and flushing the toilet. His head was throbbing, but he refused to let himself complain anymore. “Sorry for making you take care of me when… you’re also not okay.”

“I’m fine.”

Chuuya didn’t mean to laugh, but the smallest chuckle escaped his lips, “Don’t lie to me. We both know that you aren’t like this normally. You can talk about it if you want.”

“I don’t,” Dazai took his own seat against the bathtub again, so close to Chuuya, yet so far. “But I’m gonna have to, aren’t I?”

“No. You don’t have to do anything,” he hummed, letting his eyelids drop.

Silence filled the room once more, neither of them daring to say anything. There was an odd buzzing noise coming from somewhere, but Chuuya couldn’t be bothered by it. He swore that he could’ve fallen asleep had it lasted a second longer, but then he came to his senses, “I should go now.”

His body felt too weak to walk all the way back home. Hell, he could barely lift a finger with how tired he was. But he had already inconvenienced Dazai and he hadn’t even said a single thing that he wanted to talk about. He would wake up in the morning with little to no memory of the night and still think about everything that those random people said about him. Everything was for nothing. He tried to push himself up.

“Chuuya?”

He couldn’t tell if he was hallucinating Dazai’s voice or not, but he responded anyway. Opening his eyes, he gave a hum, hoping that was enough to let Dazai know he was listening.

Dazai looked stunning. The blanket he was wearing earlier- that he’d wrapped around himself- was on the floor under him, probably dropped sometime from his constant moving. But Dazai didn’t seem cold. Maybe Dazai did have the same problems as Chuuya- but it didn’t seem like something he would care about. But how much did Chuuya really know about him? Either way, Dazai looked a lot better than he had when he opened the door, which was surprising. How would helping someone while they cry and throw up in your bathroom make you feel any better? But something about his aura had changed. Chuuya might’ve smiled at that, but he felt too weak to know if he had or not.

“You should stay for the night,” and almost as soon as those words came out, it seemed that Dazai recognized how soft they sounded, because he immediately switched his tone. With a teasing smile on his face, he started talking again, “My dog can’t be wandering alone in the middle of the night. Looks bad on me as a dog owner, you know?”

“Shut it, asshole,” Chuuya bit back, baring his teeth jokingly.

“My dog is so disobedient! How ever will I recover?” he sighed dramatically, placing a hand on his chest.

“The real question is how I’m gonna manage not to kill you for a whole night,” the redhead muttered, but Dazai definitely heard him.

“So you’re staying?” Dazai asked hesitantly, as if he was scared of Chuuya saying no.

“I can barely fucking move, idiot. I’m not gonna pass up the opportunity to just stay here,” he leaned his head back on the wall a little too harshly, hissing in pain when it made contact.

“You’re still gonna have to move, Chibi,” Dazai scoffed. “You’re not sleeping on the hardwood floor.”

“I dunno, man. It feels pretty damn comfy.”

“If you don’t get up, I’m gonna carry you. And do you really want all my stinky mackerel scales touching you?”

“You make an unfortunately good point,” he groaned, trying to get up. His arms barely had the strength to push him off the wall and his legs felt entirely wobbly from the second he stood. Every part of his body just felt… numb. He didn’t even know what happened before he felt a hand around his arm.

“And you’ve just lost your walking rights,” Dazai tsked. “Lean on me- I don’t bite. Unlike someone here.”

“I’ve never bit you!” Chuuya huffed, but complied, resting on Dazai while the actor guided him out of the bathroom.

“My dog’s gotten so big. I can barely even drag him to bed.”

“It’s not my fault you’re weak,” he frowned as he was sat onto Dazai’s bed. It was just teasing, Chuuya reminded himself. Once Dazai’d left Chuuya’s side, he thought for a moment, not even opening his eyes as he spoke, “Where’re you gonna sleep?”

“The sofa?” Dazai spoke as if it were obvious. He was at the end of the bed and Chuuya felt his shoes getting pulled off. Chuuya silently thanked the other- he was way too tired to do it himself.“Where else?”

“I don’t wanna steal the bed from you,” he pouted, genuinely feeling bad. He’d barged into Dazai’s room, gotten drunk, cried, and then stole his bed. Fuck.

“I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in it anyways,” he assured from what sounded to be across the room. A second later, he felt something warm and soft cover him- a throw blanket.

“Are you sure?” Chuuya had to confirm. “If you don’t get me off this bed in ten seconds, I’m definitely gonna fall asleep, so this is the last call.”

“I just threw a blanket on you. I’m not gonna drag you out of bed now, idiot,” his voice came from right beside Chuuya. He heard some shuffling from both next to him and below him- probably putting something under the bed.

“Going once… going twice,” Chuuya lulled, already half asleep in all honesty. “Sold to the Chuuya.”

A chuckle was heard from far away- what else did Dazai have to do? After not too long, he felt a hand on his head and his hair was ruffled, “Goodnight, Chibi.”

Chuuya tried to say “don’t call me that”, but with his brain and body not working together, it came out as a bunch of mumbling. He heard another chuckle and a whisper from somewhere above him. Either the alcohol really effected him, despite it being out of his system already, or Dazai’s bed was extremely comfortable, because sleep took him away faster than ever before. (There was a third possibility, one that he didn’t dare consider.)

Perhaps he had the best sleep of his life.

- - -

Dazai couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly Chuuya fell asleep.

Silently, he wished that he could fall asleep so easily, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to relax his mind enough. Chuuya being here might’ve made him more secure, but that unlocked another range of thoughts that he tried to avoid. He didn’t mean to stare, but the way Chuuya had grabbed onto the blanket in his sleep, digging his face into the soft fabric. His hair spread around Dazai’s pillow looked too perfect to believe that he’d been moving around in his sleep. Dazai smiled fondly at him before realizing that he was probably being creepy and forced himself to look away.

When he’d asked the redhead to stay the night, he hadn’t even begun to consider how tired he must be. It was entirely selfish of Dazai to ask Chuuya to stay- not letting him rest where he was familiar, hell, even putting him in danger of people who might try to break in. He double checked the windows. They were still locked. Thank god.

If Chuuya was here, Dazai was safe. That was his one thought in inviting him: that Chuuya was there and real and there were no weird drinks or hidden stalkers. That wasn’t real. Chuuya was.

And he didn’t lie to Chuuya. He knew that he wasn’t going to be able to sleep in that bed again- he spent too long imagining his past there. It felt too much like he’d wake up to all those horrors again. Aching head. Fluffy hair. Blurring vision. Pink lace.

No. He refused to think about it.

He walked over to his desk, going to put up all of the items incase Chuuya got curious in the morning. Not that he thought Chuuya would rummage through his stuff, but they were things that he held close to his heart. They were for him and no one else. Other than Mori, he supposed. If Mori owned him, he supposed that Mori also owned everything he did. Which wasn’t even much anyway. (What kind of rich actor didn’t even have a house to go to for his time off? Not even an apartment for him to stay at from time to time. Just a few suitcases that he brought with him from city to city.)

Putting away his final item, he furrowed his eyebrows. It was the snow globe that his mother had given him before he became an actor. He stared at it sadly. It’d been so long since he let himself think of her- he didn’t deserve to feel sad about everything. But now wasn’t the time.

He noticed something odd about it right before putting it up.

Chapter Text

The hotel room was empty when Chuuya woke up.

Of the many times he’d woken up with a hangover, he never woke up alone in someone else’s house. Normally they were just a room over with the door open if they’d miraculously woken up before him, but he was all alone in a room that he didn’t immediately recognize. What kind of hookup would leave a stranger alone in their bedroom?

Someone who isn’t a hookup. Probably.

Slowly, some of the events from the previous night came back to him. He remembered impulsively walking all the way to Dazai’s hotel room and seeing him open the door for him. He remembered drinking almost a whole bottle of whiskey and being led to the bathroom. He remembered… not much after that.

Somehow he’d ended up in Dazai’s bed with Dazai’s blanket around him, feeling like a warm hug. It was the blanket he’d used to cover himself last night. (And it still smelled like him- not that Chuuya was thinking about that in the slightest.)

Other than the blanket, there was no sign that Dazai had even been here. His desk had been completely cleared off, and while Chuuya never looked at it closely before, he knew it wasn’t bare before. Only the normal hotel items were on his bedside table, such as the lamp and notepad. Had Dazai disappeared off the face of the Earth within the time that Chuuya had slept? How long had he even been asleep?

He pulled his phone out from his hoodie pocket, checking the time frantically. It was only a little past ten. Thank every god to possibly exist.

Checking his notifications, there were a million messages from Tachihara, all of them asking if he was okay or if he had been kidnapped and if he should find a new roommate or not. He couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the younger was. In order to prevent him from worrying anymore, he sent back a “wow i see how easily replaceable i am” with an eye roll emoji.

Now he was left with a dilemma. Was he supposed to wait for Dazai to come back to the room before leaving or should he go ahead and leave already? Part of him was still unsure if Dazai had somehow moved out in the middle of the night and left him with the blanket as one last memory of him. And it wasn’t like he had Dazai’s number either, so he couldn’t contact the actor by any means.

If this was goodbye, he didn’t want to end it with the night before. He wanted to have a memory of the last time he spoke to Dazai- for whatever reason, he cared too much to just have Dazai gone from his life like that. But what else should he have expected? It always happened. With the Sheep, with the Flags-

His thoughts were interrupted by the hotel room door opening.

Chuuya let out a sigh of relief seeing Dazai walk through the door, but immediately felt a strange air around them. When they locked eyes, Chuuya watched his expression go from frantic to concerned, “You’re still here.”

“Yeah,” Chuuya choked out, voice raspier than he wanted to sound. He let out a cough, “I didn’t know whether or not to wait for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Dazai nodded, biting his lip and letting his eyes wander as if this wasn’t the room he’d been staying at for a month. After a second, he turned back to Chuuya, “Do you need pain meds or anything?”

“Yeah, no, I’m good,” he nodded back just as awkwardly. Why was the air so weird between them? Had something happened last night? “I have some back at my apartment. Which I’m gonna head back to. Right now.”

“Oh, yeah. For sure,” the response came with yet another continued nod. Something was definitely wrong. Dazai just stood there and looked around more.

Chuuya was gonna just suck it up and ask, “Okay, be honest with me. What happened? Something had to have, right? Or else you wouldn’t be so awkward right now. I know I’m normally horny while drunk, so if something happened I’m totally down with just forgetting about it and-”

“You didn’t do anything,” Dazai shook his head, eyes pleading for Chuuya to believe him. “Just a few new things popped up on my schedule, so I’m gonna be super busy today. So it’s probably best if you… leave now.”

“Right,” Chuuya rushed to his feet, not wanting to waste any more of Dazai’s time. He didn’t necessarily believe that Dazai was acting differently just because he was busy, but if it was true, it would be rude of him to take up what little time he had to himself. He put his shoes back on and started heading out, ignoring the throb of his head. “I’ll see you- uh- on set today.”

“Mhm,” he didn’t even look at Chuuya as the redhead left. “See ya.”

What was that?

The second that he stepped out of the door, he just stood in the hallway for a few moments, blinking over and over again until his aching head processed that awkward conversation. That was awkward, right? One of the most awkward things that Chuuya had gone through. That wasn’t the same person who lied to Chuuya about what time it was just so that he wouldn’t be late within one week of meeting him while speaking French to him the entire time. That wasn’t the same person who was centimeters from him, doing his makeup and still inviting him to dinner after, despite the harsh butterflies that were somersaulting in his stomach. That wasn’t the same Dazai who let Chuuya get shitfaced in his hotel room even though he was obviously going through something.

It just didn’t feel like he was the same person.

Dazai sounded like Chuuya did once his hookups woke up- the ones who didn’t get the hint that Chuuya wanted nothing to do them anymore. Was that the vibe that Dazai was trying to give off? He didn’t want to think about everything that came with that implication.

“Nakahara Chuuya,” a voice called his name and Chuuya couldn’t stop himself from facing the person. It was a tall, older man with a smile that sent shivers down Chuuya’s skin. His long hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he wore a button up and dress pants- like a business man of sorts. “I hope your relationship is holding up well.”

Chuuya just scoffed, not wanting to deal with anything that had to do with those fucking articles right now. He simply lifted his middle finger at the person and continued to rush down the hall and all the way back to his apartment, not even stopping to think how that person knew his name.

The second that Chuuya walked through the door, Tachihara looked at him with a look that was a mix of amused and questioning, “There’s the man of the hour!”

“What do you want, Tachi?” he walked past the younger, heading straight for their ibuprofen- he needed four pieces immediately.

“How was the clubbing without me?” his roommate followed behind him, leaning against the counter as he spoke. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t invite me- are you dry swallowing those?”

“Yup,” Chuuya put the last one his mouth, hating the feeling of them against his tongue. “And I wasn’t clubbing.”

“You were out all night- went out sometime after one- and got back just to immediately down a bunch of pain medicine,” Tachihara laid down the evidence and yeah, Chuuya saw how that did make it seem like he had a fun night out. “But you didn’t go to the club?”

“I was at Dazai’s.”

“Oh my! He went to see his wonderful boyfriend!” he gasped, smiling widely and wiggling his eyebrows. “I thought you’d be more romantic with your-”

“If I had the energy, I would punch you so hard right now.” Unfortunately, he didn’t, so he stuck to glaring very angrily. “And if my head didn’t hurt so bad, I would be yelling.”

“That’s my favorite ball of sunshine!” Tachihara poked Chuuya’s shoulder until Chuuya smacked it away.

“I’m really not in the mood, Tachi,” he sighed, finally walking back to his room. “Can’t you go bother Gin or something?”

“After I get actual answers,” the younger dropped his whole smiling act, crossing his arms like a worried father. Chuuya already had two of those- he didn’t need a third who was younger than him. “I was so scared when I woke up.”

“Well, I’m obviously fine, so is there anything else you need, dad?” Chuuya grumbled.

“You’re upset over something and call me crazy, Nakahara, but I don’t think it’s just the headache. Plus you didn’t have dinner last night and if I had to make a bet, I’d say you haven’t had breakfast either.”

“I think I did something wrong,” he gave in, letting himself fall on his bed, praying that the medicine would kick in soon. Tachihara took a seat next to him. “But I don’t remember what.”

“And you were drunk?”

“No, I just got an awful hangover from being completely sober and having a happy, fun time with my coworker,” Chuuya scoffed. “Obviously I was drunk, idiot!”

“That’s the Chuuya I know and love,” Tachihara genuinely smiled at Chuuya’s yelling. “Did you hook up with him? Everyone knows you get h-”

“I did not hook up with him!” he hit his roommate with his pillow. “I even asked him to make sure.”

“You asked him?” his eyes widened in disbelief. “Holy shit, you’re blunt.”

“Well, yeah! He was acting weird, so I wanted to make sure that I didn’t… do anything I’d regret.”

“You’d regret it?”

“Yes, I’d regret it!” Chuuya sat up with a frown. “But I don’t know what would’ve happened to make him act like that.”

“Okay, how was he acting exactly?”

“The way I do to the guys who think I wanna date them!” he exclaimed worriedly. “And you know, he didn’t even look at me when I left.”

“Oh, shit,” his face fell. Tachihara had unfortunately seen the looks on the poor men’s faces as they left his apartment- he knew that Chuuya could treat them like they were nothing without remorse. “Is he gonna be on set today?”

“I mean, he’s assigned for today, but it changed last minute yesterday to not include him, so who knows?”

“If I ask you something, can you promise that you won’t kill me?”

“No.”

“Are you into him?” and Chuuya suddenly thanked every possible god out there that he didn’t promise anything because he grabbed his pillow and hit Tachihara with as much strength as he had. “Ay! Stop it! I’m serious!”

“No, I’m not into him!” Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows, knowing that he was getting overly defensive.

“What’s got you so worked up over this, then?” Tachihara asked genuinely, scooching away from Chuuya as best as he could to avoid getting murdered by a pillow. “You come home from work and complain about this guy every day and suddenly you’re seen holding his hand and then him being mad at you two days later has you upset like this? It’s a valid question.”

“He’s just a friend!” he shrugged. Even if Chuuya thought of him as more than that, the way that he’d been that morning told Chuuya that he probably didn’t want it either. “Now you know all the gossip, so if you have nothing useful to say, get out of my room!”

“You sound like a rebellious teenager,” the younger giggled, but when the pillow hit his arm again, he stood up and made his way out the door. “Okay, okay! I’m leaving, I’m leaving!”

Even though Chuuya was the one who rushed him out, he hated being alone with his thoughts. He somehow managed to keep himself busy without trying to find the ‘perfect clothes for the day’. (That was gone now. The fact that he spent so much time deciding on his outfits was just stupid. He ignored that his heart still ached when he walked to set in a hoodie and sweatpants again.)

When work started, Dazai acted entirely normal- like he didn’t have the most awkward conversation with Chuuya that morning. There was normal teasing, name calling, and even the chemistry they had in that scene was natural. Maybe Chuuya had imagined what happened that morning- or his mind had overexaggerated the way Dazai urged him out. There was no reason for him to linger on it any longer. He could tell Tachihara that it was just a misunderstanding on Chuuya’s part and that everything was fine. The weight on Chuuya’s chest had vanished.

Sakaguchi still looked over at the two with a concerned expression every once in a while, but didn’t speak to either of them about it. He’d worked with many actors in the past- it wasn’t unnatural for scandals like that to happen in the industry, so why was he so worried this time? Chuuya brushed it off, just happy that they got a lot done and Dazai wasn’t upset with him or ignoring him.

“Yo, asshole!” Chuuya nudged Dazai with his elbow after getting changed back into his clothes. “You doing anything after this?”

“Yup,” Dazai pouted in his normal overexaggerated manner. “I said I was busy this morning- I thought my dog listened better than this.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m not a dog,” he rolled his eyes. “But there’s an arcade in town and I was just thinking that I could kick your ass at any game and I want that ego boost. You free anytime soon?”

With a sigh, Dazai smiled teasingly, “Not for a while. I know it’s news to you, but some of us have lives, Chibi. We don’t lie in bed all day.”

“I don’t lie in bed all- where are you going?” Chuuya yelled as Dazai simply started walking away.

“Bye bye!”

“Asshole!” he shouted back, noticing something fall from Dazai’s hand. How did he not notice that he literally dropped something he was directly holding? What an idiot, Chuuya laughed as he went to pick it up to return it to him. His expression changed as he looked at what was written on the paper, sticking it in his pocket.

‘Ne lis pas ça jusqu’à tu es seul.’

- - -

Dazai remembered when he still had a good relationship with Mori.

When he was young, it was better than just a good relation between an agent and actor- Mori treated Dazai with more affection than he had ever received from either of his parents. Or from anyone, really. Looking back on it, Dazai realized that he was just dumb and easy to manipulate, like any four-year-old would be. Mori knew that and used it to his advantage. Dazai should’ve been better though. He should’ve known better. If he could go back in time and tell his younger self one piece of advice, it would be to forget about his dreams. To go to some fancy college to become a doctor or a lawyer or find some boring desk job. That would be far better than being an actor.

“You’re special, Osamu,” Mori had said, kneeling on the ground to be the same height as him and petting him on the head. Perhaps that was his favorite quote, because he reminded Dazai of it nearly daily. “Those other kids in your class- they don’t have what it takes, but I think you do. You’re so talented… and already so pretty. I’m sure your parents tell you that all the time though.”

He shook his head. He was so dumb at the time, “Mama and Papa don’t have time for me. They just work.”

“If you come with me, I’ll tell you this every day. Not to mention that other people will too- people all over the world will see you and smile because they love you so much.”

“But I don’t wanna work. It always makes Mama and Papa mad and I don’t like when they fight,” he pouted. “Can I wait til I’m big?”

“I’m so sorry, love,” the agent frowned. Dazai shivered every time he remembered that Mori used to call him that. “It’s now or never. You won’t be able to make it without me. But acting is hardly working- acting makes people happy. And your father already agreed. He seems like a smart guy- he knows you’re gonna do great things.”

“If Papa thinks so,” Dazai smiled widely. He radiated innocence back then. It was ruined far too quickly.

“Good boy,” Mori kissed Dazai’s forehead.

When did Dazai realize the truth behind Mori’s smiles and kisses and loving words? Once he’d started thinking about everything Mori said, everything Mori did, he put the pieces together and suddenly he understood. He understood that he didn’t matter to Mori in the slightest- he just liked making money and taking advantage of people who were too stupid to know any better. But it was too late now.

After discovering the device that was sneakily taped on his snowglobe, he rushed to his agent’s hotel room- just to the right of his own. When he knocked, it took all his willpower to not break down the door. Dazai felt nothing but pure, hot rage. Why hadn’t he expected this? It was fucking Mori Ougai- of course, this would happen.

“Open the fucking door- I know you’re awake,” Dazai felt like he was on fire, his body burning piece by piece. He couldn’t be too loud though, for fear that Chuuya might hear him from the other room and wake up. Chuuya deserved the sleep.

Mori smiled when he opened the door. That asshole, “Come on in, Dazai. It’s rather unprofessional of you to come knocking at my door so late. Don’t tell me you miss-”

“Cut the shit,” he walked in the room and closed the door behind him- he was so fucking sick of not having privacy. Dazai tore the device off of his snowglobe, throwing it at Mori. “What the fuck is that?”

“I’m sure you know what it is, Osamu,” the man hummed nonchalantly. As if he wasn’t the worst person to ever walk this Earth. “I’m shocked it took you this long to find, honestly. Do you not care for Tane any-”

“Take my mother’s name out of your mouth.”

“So aggressive,” he sighed. “I thought I raised you better than this.”

“You didn’t raise me at all,” Dazai shook his head, grinding his teeth in anger. “Now explain yourself. I came here for answers.”

“I’m sure it’s obvious. You never let me know where you were going or who you would be going with and that caused issues for you, you know? I’m looking out for you and making sure that you behave properly. And I’m glad I did that, because it seems that you haven’t been very honest with me.”

The snowglobe in Dazai’s hands were his only consolation- he rubbed the glass to calm himself down, but it wasn’t working. He was too enraged, “Don’t even pretend that you’re doing any of this for me. We both know that you have never cared about me.”

“Why would you ever think that? I care about you very much. Listening to what goes on in your room is very helpful for your health. I was very saddened to hear that you still drink so often,” he raised an eyebrow. “What did we even take time off for if you were just going to get drunk every day again?”

Dazai’s eyes pleaded with Mori’s. He knew that evil understood evil, but there truely was a limit to that. If Dazai was evil, Mori was Satan in human form; he was on a level that no human could ever reach. This was just the last straw for Dazai. He couldn’t handle it anymore. Sounding more heartbroken than angry, he finally broke the silence between them. “I quit.”

…

“You can’t do that, Osamu,” Mori smiled back at him, not even worried that Dazai could manage to find a way around it. “Your contract ends after this movie is over.”

“After this fucking movie then. Or maybe I’ll walk out right now and you’ll never see me again.”

“But you won’t do that,” he shook his head. “Not only because of the tracker on your phone that will let me see your location at all times, but also because you’re too scared.”

“I’m not scared. I’ve raised myself since I was four- I can figure it out.”

“Oh, no,” Mori’s smile somehow managed to get more and more menacing. Dazai could feel the malice in it. “I’m sure you could live on your own. Find a nice, stable job. You’re scared of me.”

“I don’t care what you do to me. You’ve already taken my parents, my happiness, my humanity. There’s nothing that you can do that won’t hurt worse than what I’ve already gone through.”

“I really thought that you were smarter than this, Osamu,” he frowned. “How have you already forgotten about this little thing?”

The listening device. Fuck.

“This device records everything and sends it directly to my phone. Since you’re so insistent on replacing your brain with your heart, I’ll spell this out for you,” the air felt too still. Dazai hated this. He hated everything about this. “Nakahara Chuuya came to your room over an hour ago and got extremely drunk within minutes. He was also the one who suggested that you two drink. If you two were as close as the public thinks you are, he should absolutely know that you were an alcoholic before your hiatus. Even an idiot would be able to make Nakahara look like an alcoholic himself- one that pushes other people into situations like that, nonetheless.”

“There’s no proof of my alcoholism in the past. It’s not like the press would take a mere suggestion to drink poorly.”

“Oh, but when you were on call with your good friend, Oda Sakunosuke, you mentioned it. Did you not?”

He did.

“I recommend that you listen to me if you want Nakahara to have a chance at a good acting career. Though I suppose it could truly ruin his chances at any career in the spotlight, which is where he’s meant to be. He’s very talented.”

“Don’t talk about him the way you used to talk about me,” Dazai’s voice was quiet, but the words came out like venom.

“Are you getting jealous?” he teased, knowing fully well why Dazai said that. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite actor.”

“So what do you want me to do? Work for you for the rest of my life?”

“I knew that you had a soft spot for Nakahara,” Mori laughed. “I want you to avoid him. Your relationship is entirely work; there’s no reason the press need to suspect anything more.”

“I’m already going to be telling them that I’m dating Akiko. What’s the purpose in cutting him off completely?” Everything that Mori did had a reason- he was the most calculated person to exist. That was part of what made him so terrifying.

“That’s easy,” there was a moment of silence. Dazai didn’t understand and when Mori realized that, he continued. “You’re an actor. You can’t afford to have weaknesses. And that boy… he’s yours.”

“We play love interests in the movie. How am I supposed to avoid him? If I ignore him at work, he’ll surely know that there’s something wrong.”

“You’re free to act normal during work, but if I see you out with him, or hear him coming to your hotel room again, he will be ruined- nay, if I’m not informed of your whereabouts at all times, I will ruin him,” Mori tilted his head with a light smirk, “And I would like your snowglobe for the time being. You can have it back when you start behaving properly. Understood?”

Dazai stared at the gloved hand Mori had reached out to him. A million thoughts ran through his head. He’d endured so much- so much- so how much more could he take? He lost so much already, but he somehow managed to keep losing again and again. But now, he had to choose what he cared more about. If he shook Mori’s hand, that meant accepting that everything he’d ever wanted was never going to be obtained. The family that he desperately wanted to find again was never going to be found. The freedom that he longed for for years and years was going to be torn right away from his grasp. He would be a slave to the man who tortured him for eighteen years. Not even death would be able to take him out of Mori’s disgusting, gloved hold. There would be no escape.

“Understood.”

Chapter Text

There is so much that I need to say to you and no way to say it, and for fear that someone else manages to find this letter, I’m writing in French. I knew learning it would come in handy someday.

I’m currently at Ango and Odasaku’s place, waiting for you to wake up and leave so that I can return to my hotel room. I hope I don’t see you still in there- if I do, it’ll probably be awkward. That would suck.

Anyways, I can’t explain all of it to you, as much as I wish I could. There’s so much that I want to tell you, but it scares me it involves a lot of personal information that I won’t let myself share with you yet. Before I start explaining, I also want to say that I had no ill intentions when you came over and I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’m going to fix it as soon as possible.

For the last two days, there has been a listening device in my room that my agent planted to make sure that I’ve been behaving ever since the articles about us came out. Or to get dirt to use against me. Now he has it.

I didn’t mean for him to hear what happened last night, I swear. I wouldn’t have allowed him to see you in such a vulnerable moment if I knew that it was a possibility. I’m sorry.

The listening device is gone. I managed to get myself out of that, but I think he still suspects that I’m not going to completely obey him. I assured him that I would keep the tracking device on my phone so that he knows my whereabouts at all times. He still lives in the room directly next to me though, so he can still hear me if I were to speak with even a slightly raised voice. There’s no point in the listening device now, since he already knows that I’m still drinking and cut so I trust that there isn’t another one in my room already.

I suspect that he’s going to be following me to make sure that my tracking device is actually still on, so I can’t meet up with you any time in the next week, but he still has duties and work to attend to outside of me. Once he sees that I’m fully obedient to him, he won’t follow me anymore. That’s when I’ll be able to meet up with you. If you want to.

Are we friends? I heard that it’s good for dog owners to take their puppies outside on walks every once in a while, so I figured I should take better care of you. When looking at stuff to do before coming here, I saw there was an arcade. You seem like a gamer (derogatory) and I wanted to beat you, so we should go sometime. I’ll tell him that I’m going with Akiko and as long as she doesn’t see him during that time, we should be good. (I’ll tell her to stay in her room or stay out somewhere. It won’t be an issue.)

This is most of the information that I thought you should know and Ango and Odasaku left me alone in the room so I have to go find and annoy them now!! (Also, I left my number at the bottom so that you can text me. Feel free to message- I can delete it before Mori checks my phone.)

And last thing: do NOT let anyone else see this paper or tell anyone else about this paper. Don’t even mention it to me during work because Mori is likely still following me. If not on his own, he’s paid the staff to do it. And if I talk to you any less than before, that’s also why. It isn’t your fault.

- Mackerel

Chapter Text

Weeks passed.

Chuuya immediately texted Dazai after reading his note, not even fearing whether or not he came off too needy. He read it the second he made it back to his room and stuck it in the back of his closet after typing Dazai’s number into his phone. There were a few parts that were entirely scribbled out, but after trying to read them for a bit, he realized that they weren’t meant to be read for a reason and that it was none of his business. Dazai had his privacy invaded enough.

Dazai was so much more calculated than Chuuya had ever known. Part of him wondered if he had similar plans that he used to get himself everything he ever wanted. He was vigilant too, able to notice exactly when Mori was spying on him and the moments that he wasn’t. There were staff members that Dazai realized had worked for Mori and managed to get Sakaguchi to fire them for “unrelated reasons”. Somehow, Dazai had taken his poker deck of nothing and made it a royal flush.

At work, everything was the same anyways, because that was something that Dazai and Mori had already agreed upon somehow. There was still the normal bickering, laughter, and kicks that were normally there. After they’d finished filming, after the week of Dazai’s obedience, he would make some excuse about hanging out with Akiko or Odasaku and then go off with Chuuya on a different adventure every time. One day it was the arcade, the next they were in a cafe, and after it was the movie theater. It wasn’t suspicious because apparently Dazai didn’t like being in his hotel room often, which was news to Chuuya, because the actor seemed like he would be the type to lay on his bed all day.

On one occasion, the two had gone shopping together again.

Dazai said that he needed new clothes over text, spamming Chuuya about how even though his style was emo, he seemed like he knew what he was doing in terms of fashion. And Chuuya did know. He knew exactly how to put together clothes for multiple different aesthetics and had a natural eye for what looked good on specific people. But it was crazy that Dazai remembered that when Chuuya had been dressing carelessly in baggy clothes for over a week at that point.

They met up at the clothes store- some rich place that Chuuya had never heard of because he didn’t have the money for it anyway.

“Chibi!” Dazai called the second he saw the redhead, running over to him happily. “Whatcha looking at?”

Chuuya immediately put down the shirt that he’d been eyeing, walking away to drag the actor away from the item. “Nothing, idiot. Let’s go get you something that actually looks good.”

“Is this a crop top?” a large smile spread across Dazai’s face and Chuuya was ready for whatever teasing remarks that would come from his mouth. Instead, he was hit with, “You should try it on! I’ve never seen you wear one before!”

“I’ve never seen you wear one before either,” he rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you get yourself one?”

“Twinning!”

“No-”

“I’ll try one on if you do! It’s cute too- maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to invite this hatrack shopping,” Dazai hummed, handing Chuuya one of the shirts and then grabbing another for himself.

“Even if I try it on, I can’t afford it.”

Dazai only laughed at that and started walking away, but refused to elaborate when Chuuya started asking him what he was laughing about. They stopped by multiple sections of the store, with Dazai holding up different articles of clothing that the redhead would either say looked good, looked bad, or could make do with some good accessories. If someone noticed that Chuuya couldn’t find a single shirt that would genuinely look bad on Dazai, he refused to think too hard about what that meant. Dazai was just objectively extremely attractive and could make almost any clothing item look designer.

“Do you think this is enough?” Dazai pouted, looking at the many hangers he held on both hands. Honestly, he’d decided to try on enough clothes to last him about two weeks with no repeating items. Exactly how Chuuya liked to shop.

“I think you’re good for the first trip.”

“First trip?” his jaw dropped and Chuuya couldn’t help but laugh at his surprised expression. “This is like- double my wardrobe already.”

“You wanted me to teach you how to shop? Go big or go home,” he shrugged, taking his own one item and walking over to the fitting rooms. “When you walk out with your item- or items- on, you have to do a runway strut and model it so that the other person- me- can decide if it’s worth it or not.”

“And this is something people actually do?”

“Only cool people, so it’s no wonder you’ve never heard of it,” Chuuya smiled. “Now go! Get dressed!”

“You only have one item, plus I need to see it before I can truly embrace my inner model strut!”

Looking down at the crop top and then up at Dazai’s happy eyes, Chuuya made the executive decision to not let his smile fade. He could do this. With a sigh, he walked toward the dressing room, “Don’t cream your pants when you see me!”

Chuuya put on the tight cropped shirt, staring at himself in the mirror before letting himself walk out. The shirt itself was beautiful- just a skintight black top with a purple butterfly design on it. Casual yet elegant. There was really no debate on how pretty it was. But look a little lower and his mind waged a different war.

“You know you’re not really… the right type for these clothes,” his classmate had told him, trying as hard as possible not to laugh with the other students.

What happened to the confident teenager from before? Albatross would’ve been downright offended that Chuuya didn’t laugh in their faces and walk away proudly. He didn’t raise Chuuya to stand down to assholes that easily, or to let someone else get rid of his fiery spark so quickly. I’m sorry I let you down.

He just stood there, looking at his body in the mirror and remembering why he’d ditched his tighter shirts and nicer clothes. Netizens would have a field day if they saw him wearing this. Why did he look like that? Why couldn’t he just be skinnier? Why couldn’t he just be prettier?

It’d been years since Chuuya wore a crop top and he thought that he had gotten better since then. He thought that he could wear it and walked over to where Dazai was sitting and feel okay while doing it. Even if he managed to get the courage to walk out, could he pretend that he was actually feeling good in it? Everyone knew that Chuuya was awful at hiding his own emotions.

“Chibi! You’re taking too long!” Dazai called from directly outside his dressing room. Maybe it had been too long.

“The shirt doesn’t fit,” Chuuya lied, still unable to do anything but stand there. He should take it off and stop staring at himself. It was only going to make him feel worse.

“Do you need the size down? I can run over and grab it really quick.”

Chuuya mentally scoffed at that, “No, it’s fine. I wasn’t gonna buy it anyways.”

“C’mon, I just wanna see!” Dazai whined from right outside. “I can put mine on too so that we can-”

“Fine,” Chuuya opened the door, not even daring to look Dazai in the eye as he showed himself to the actor. This was a mistake. This was the biggest mistake Chuuya could make and Dazai would look at him and laugh at how stupid he looked and how ridiculous it was of him to even pick it out. There was not a single noise coming from Dazai. Probably trying to hold his laughter in. “You can laugh, I get it.”

He waited to hear the harsh sound against his ears.

“Why would I laugh?” his voice was so genuine, as if he truly didn’t know why someone would make fun of Chuuya’s outfit. What was he so confused for?

“I look… ridiculous, and this type of thing doesn’t really suit my body, but if you wanted to see it so bad, here it is. The only thing I want is just- don’t take pictures and send them to people- I don’t want it being a big thing again, but I get if you wanted to make fun of me since that’s like our whole thing. It’s just that I’m oversensitive about how I look in some- huh?”

Arms were suddenly wrapped around Chuuya, cradling his head and shoulders, pulling him into Dazai’s chest without warning, “What kind of idiot would make fun of you for this?”

“You make fun of me for everything,” Chuuya pointed out with a soft laugh, trying to ease himself out of the situation. He just wanted to get back into his oversized shirt and jacket.

“Not this,” Dazai shook his head from above. Chuuya swore that he could feel Dazai’s heartbeat against his ear, but there was no way he heard it right- it was going way too fast. Maybe he was hearing his own. After a moment, he pulled away. Chuuya would never admit it to a single soul, but he immediately missed the warmth. “It looks good- you look good.”

And even though Chuuya didn’t believe it, he really wanted to, so he just licked his lips and nodded, “Thanks.”

They finished up shopping and never spoke of that moment ever again. But it’d been weeks since Dazai had done his makeup for the first time- now nearing mid-August- and Chuuya still felt the butterflies giving tiny punches to his every organ. He hated thinking about what that meant for him, so he simply forced it out of his mind every time it even started to come up.

College had started back up, so Tachihara was gone almost all the time, though that changed little to nothing for Chuuya. Ryuunosuke, who Chuuya hadn’t had the time to talk to for what felt like forever, was also a student at the nearby university, which meant that he was unable to show up on time for some shoots when classes got out late. Thankfully for him and his social anxiety, the rising actor that Chuuya had seen at callbacks, but never had the chance to speak with, took the same class, so they were always seen walking in late together.

While none of that actively affected Chuuya, the fact that the filming of the movie was reaching a close did. This meant that he had to spend almost all of his time at home searching for jobs; hell, he even spent a good amount of time outside of his home searching. Once they were done filming, there would be interviews until the movie came out and then a few more interviews before everything was over. The past two months would be nothing more than a good memory. He supposed that needed more of those anyway.

“Whatcha looking at?” Dazai peered over his shoulder, trying to get a peak at whatever had Chuuya distracted while they were waiting to start the table read for today’s scene. Chuuya had sat down on the couch of the house they were filming in, feeling too tired to stand up until he absolutely had to.

“Job hunting. Still,” he grumbled, not wanting to keep thinking about it. Why couldn’t they just stay like this forever? He already fell into such a nice schedule, and suddenly it was going to be torn out from right under his feet.

“In France?”

“Hm?” Chuuya took a second to process the actor’s words. “Oh, yeah. I’m probably going back to France soon.”

“To live there?”

Chuuya raised his eyebrow as he finally turned to look at his friend. (Yes, they could finally call each other friends without having a breakdown now. They came very far within those few weeks.) “No, to go eat a snack. Yes, I’ll be living there, you idiot!”

Dazai let out a whine as Chuuya hit him on the head, “Mean! I was just asking!”

“Don’t be dumb and I won’t give you sarcastic answers,” he shrugged as Dazai sat down next to him.

There were really a million reasons that Chuuya should go back to France. Despite wanting to come to Japan for college, it never really felt like home to him the way that Paris had. Japan was just his last way to reconcile with the past that he didn’t remember- to have that closure with himself. But now that he had his degree, he was ready to go back to Paul and Arthur. Moving back in with them meant that he wouldn’t have to call them weekly anymore, that he could be there to take care of them when they get sick, that he could continue to make up for all of the time he spent hating them. Not to mention that being back in Paris allowed for him to see the Flags more often. He already missed them, despite just going to talk to them in June.

He already discussed all of it with Tachihara, originally planning to move out in August- just spending one last summer together. Since the movie production was going to be lasting longer, and he had so much to do after, he extended that for a little less than a year- now moving April of the next year. After talking to Sakaguchi, they discussed that the movie would be coming out around February, so Chuuya wasn’t concerned that he’d have to stay any longer than a year. Tachihara had also already talked to the people who he was moving in with- people that Chuuya had never met and, to be honest, wasn’t totally convinced were real. The younger hit him with a pillow after Chuuya made that comment, but that didn’t prove anything about the reality of Tachihara’s so-called friends. Chuuya needed to have a conversation with them about how to properly take care of Tachihara before leaving, so he’d meet them soon enough anyway.

Outside of Tachihara, only Arthur and Paul knew about Chuuya’s plans to head back to his hometown. They were ecstatic when Chuuya had told him that he was hoping to move back, but made Chuuya promise that he actually wanted to and that they weren’t pressuring him into it. Chuuya laughed fondly as he assured them that it was entirely his decision.

And now a fourth person knew about his plans to head back. He supposed that he should let everyone know eventually, but he just wanted to keep things as normal as possible until he really had to leave.

Thankfully, Dazai didn’t ask any more questions.

It wasn’t long after that they had to start on the readthrough, which passed quickly and with minor teasing, but the real issue started with the blocking. Today’s scene wasn’t an especially hard one in terms of emotions and memorizing the script, nor was it a boring one that would take forever in order to film. His reason for not being necessarily elated about it fell in his own personal issues.

“After Kensuke nods, Shuji- you’re going to have to hold his face- like cup it in your hand gently,” Sakaguchi directed. When Dazai started moving to hold Chuuya, he continued, “You obviously don’t have to do the kiss right now, since we’re just blocking, but Shuji will lean in as soon as Kensuke finishes his line. Don’t do more than you’re comfortable with, but it should last about two seconds before Kensuke reaches to take Shuji’s shirt off- once that’s off, just go in for one more kiss and wait two seconds and it should be fine.”

Yeah, that was why.

It wasn’t that Chuuya hadn’t kissed people before- he had multiple times and had gone further than that too. He just normally wasn’t very sober for that, nor did he have to see them ever again after one fun night. Not to mention that he had to tug off Dazai’s shirt, which was sure to send him into a minor panic. Dazai seemed to be totally okay with it though, which only made Chuuya even more scared for whatever reason. Normally Dazai’s nonchalance in acting made Chuuya either more fired up in an attempt to do better than him or it calmed him down and made him realize that it was just acting. But not right now. Why not right now?

“Are we ready to try this for the first time?” Sakaguchi asked, to which both Dazai and Chuuya nodded.

When the scene started, they had to separate and for some reason the lack of warmth almost made Chuuya feel cold in the middle of summer. He needed to remind himself that he wasn’t Chuuya- he was Kashimure Kensuke who just spent the last over an hour and a half of this movie figuring out what he really wanted and he decided that he was going to get it.

Chuuya stood outside the house, ignoring the lack of strength in his legs, and knocked on the door as soon as he heard the word “Action!”.

“Kashimura,” Dazai- no, Shuji- opened the door with wide eyes and a breathless voice, obviously not expecting someone to show up at his house. Especially not the person who had just rejected him in the movie about thirty minutes ago. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” Kensuke’s eyes pleaded, but his tone was firm.

“You know I can’t say no to you,” Shuji’s pained expression hurt Chuuya; he hated seeing Dazai look so heartbroken. But it wasn’t Dazai- it was Shuji. With that, Kensuke was led inside the house and offered a seat on the couch. He didn’t sit. “Do you need anything- tea? Water?”

“You.”

Shuji let out a huff of laughter that was far too bitter to be genuine, “Very funny, Kashimura. If you’re just going to tease me and my feelings, then I would rather you leave.”

“I’m dead serious,” he licked his lips, and flickered his eyes between Shuji and the floor. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“Well, you had me and then you played with me and left me,” the boy shook his head. “You can’t just use me whenever you’d like and then force me to pick up the pieces all by myself.”

“I’m sorry, Shuji. And I know that that will never, ever be enough, but I want to try to make it up to you. I don’t want to be the reason you cry ever again.”

“So what? This is pity?”

“No!” he spoke too suddenly, too loudly. Shuji flinched when Kensuke raised his voice, and immediately his eyes softened and he quieted his voice, “No. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize that I care about you. I’m sorry it took me so long to admit that you’re my favorite part of the day. I’m sorry that I hurt you because I was too much of a coward to confront my own stupid feelings. I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a moment. Kensuke just stared at Shuji longingly, praying for him to just say something. Eventually, the quiet was broken, but not how Kensuke imagined.

Soft laughter.

“I never thought I would live to see the day that Kashimura Kensuke set down his massive ego for someone- nonetheless Tsushima Shuji,” he gave a small smile, as if he was waiting for Kensuke to laugh with him.

And after a second, he did, letting out small bouts of laughter as he realized that this was forgiveness- at least the start to it. He threw himself into Shuji’s chest, holding onto him as tightly as possible, as if letting go meant losing him forever. But it really didn’t.

“I love you, you fucking asshole,” Kensuke spoke quietly into his lover’s chest, voice almost cracking at how emotional he was. “I love you so damn much.”

“You promise?”

“Yes,” he nodded frantically. After that, he looked up to meet Shuji’s eyes.

Dazai’s eyes.

There was no way that Chuuya could allow himself to be Kensuke completely in that moment. With Dazai’s face so, so close to his and his eyes staring at Chuuya like there was no prettier sight in the world. And just below his eyes, his lips were unable to be ignored. A beat was playing between them that Chuuya felt with his whole body. Whose heartbeat was that- his or Dazai’s? His breath hitched, not knowing how he could handle filming this more than once. Kensuke was stronger than him- how did he not immediately kiss Shuji the very second that they locked eyes?

“Kiss me,” Chuuya breathed, so happy that that was his line. If it was anything else, he was scared that the scene would never continue because all Chuuya could think about was Dazai’s soft breath against his face and those loving eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life,” he smiled pleadingly, eyes welling up with tears. Why was he crying?

“But do I trust you?” Dazai teased, returning the smile. His gaze flickered from Chuuya’s eyes down to his lips and then back up again once more. Chuuya nodded impatiently. Dazai cupped his cheek gently. He needed this. He needed nothing more than this.

“Please.”

As soon as the line escaped Chuuya’s lips, Dazai wasted no time connecting his with Chuuya’s. His brain was entirely fuzzy; if Chuuya had a single comprehensive thought, he would be shocked. He silently thanked God that Dazai was holding him, because if he wasn’t, Chuuya would’ve fallen to the floor. His legs had completely given out. All that he could focus on was the soft breath and tingling sensation on his lips. Why did it feel like the strongest electrical shock imaginable?

“You’re so beautiful,” Dazai whispered against Chuuya’s lips. That definitely wasn’t in the script. Holy shit. Chuuya responded to the whisper by crashing their lips together again, even more passionately.

Somewhere in the very back of his head, he realized that he was still on set and that he still had to take off Dazai’s shirt. His hand played with the hem for a second before he rubbed his hand along Dazai’s side and then lifted the fabric as high as he could. He hated that they had to separate, but the feeling of touching Dazai’s bare chest almost made up for it. There was a hand on Chuuya’s side, rubbing his stomach with his thumb lightly. It felt like he was on fire. Everything was hazy. His last comprehensible thought was hearing Dazai whisper once again- something still not in the script, “I trust you more than anything.”

He couldn’t tell what was happening until Dazai had backed away from Chuuya, to which Chuuya leaned in again, wanting- no, needing- more, but Dazai was already gone.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Blinking a few times to get the fuzziness out of his head, he looked around. He was still on set. He was an actor playing a character. Dazai was shirtless. Fuck.

Without meaning to, he noticed that one of the bandages on Dazai’s arm had come undone- had Chuuya accidentally pulled at it in his haze? Thankfully, his internal question was answered when Sakaguchi called their attention.

“That was good- Dazai, I liked the bandage thing. Would you mind if Kensuke started to unravel it more after you get the initial part untucked? Just a little bit- enough to imply that it would completely come off.”

“Good with me.”

“Awesome- and Chuuya, the choice of crying during this scene was interesting, not bad at all. I think it makes sense in a weird way. Keep it up. Other notes: can the first kiss be more gentle and then the reconnection be more longing? Otherwise, you two are doing good.” Sakaguchi smiled, before directing them to start from the beginning again.

It felt like every time they went through it, there was always something that Sakaguchi wanted to add- not to mention the plethora of things that Dazai had added on his own. Chuuya nearly had a heart attack when he felt Dazai lightly tug on his long hair.

Once Chuuya was alone in the changing room, he took a second to just stand there and breathe. To try to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. In his entire life, he never had a kiss that made him genuinely breathless and mind-numb the way Dazai had just kissed him. He never experienced that kind of electricity, that kind of spark that radiated off of them.

And it wasn’t just kissing Dazai. It was every moment that he was with Dazai- being dumb and berating him for random shit. It was when Dazai held him and made him feel like the most important person to walk the entire goddamn Earth. It was locking eyes with Dazai and already knowing exactly what he wanted to say. There was no denial anymore- the truth was just forcefed down his mouth.

He was hopelessly in love with Dazai Osamu.

That was the first awful thing that happened. After he finally allowed his mind to piece everything together, he hit his head against the wall (which was a bad idea, considering how weak he’d been feeling that day already) and rushed out of the changing room. He didn’t want to deal with his stupid emotions anymore- if he went home and slept then he’d be totally fine the next day. His brain would be totally Dazai free after that.

The second awful thing was that immediately after he started walking away from set, he noticed that a lot of the staff had been staring in one specific direction. When Chuuya let his curiosity take hold, he saw two familiar figures with their bodies pressed together, their lips pressed together. And Chuuya knew- he knew- that Dazai was straight. He knew that Dazai was close to Akiko. So why was this even surprising?

Did Dazai kiss everyone the way that he kissed Chuuya earlier? God, probably- he probably kisses her with way more passion than he’d shown Chuuya earlier. They were acting. That was their entire goddamn job. And there was no valid reason for him to be upset by that- it wasn’t like Dazai even led him on in the slightest. Dazai reiterated that he was straight over and over. It almost felt like a taunt. Just thinking about it made Chuuya feel dizzier.

He was really fucking dizzy. But he just sped down the sidewalk as quickly as he could. It was too hot out and his warm clothing wasn’t making him feel any better- why was everything going against him today? Why didn’t he fucking realize that Dazai had Akiko already? Why was his body feeling weaker?

The third awful thing hit him soon after, while he was caught up in his thoughts. Everything was just blurring together, but maybe those were just tears because he felt like his brain was entirely scrambled in that moment. He felt so stupid. Why did he let himself like Dazai Osamu? Why was the ground getting closer?

That was his last thought before everything went black.

Chapter Text

“Huh?”

Fifteen-year-old Nakahara Chuuya woke up in a hospital room. The overhead light seemed impossibly bright and everyone’s voice was ringing in his ears. Why was everything so irritating? His head was aching worse than it ever had before, which was saying something considering the many hangovers he had. His brain didn’t feel like it was working properly and everything was just too much for him.

“Chuuya!” one specific voice stood out amongst the nurses- that one being not of a hospital worker. His voice cracked as he spoke, wet and heavy as if he’d been crying. It was Paul.

“Paul?” Chuuya croaked back, throat feeling insanely dry. He needed water. “What happened?”

“I’m so sorry,” he shook his head.

Chuuya tried his hardest to think back to what he last remembered- he’d stolen some wine from a local shop while he was supposed to be in class. After what might’ve been his hundredth time doing it, he finally got caught and the police had taken him back to Paul and Arthur’s house. He remembered yelling- a lot of yelling. He remembered Arthur trying to calm both of them down.

“We went through all this trouble adopting you for what? For what? For you to just go around and steal?” Paul yelled at Chuuya, who was also feeling rage bubble in himself. They were really too similar for their own good.

“No one asked for you to adopt me! I was perfectly happy with the Sheep and I didn’t want anything to change!”

“Chuuya, honey, let’s try to-”

“No, Arthur! We’ve been patient with him for so long just waiting for him to warm up to us, but at some point we have to actually discipline him,” his eyes didn’t leave Chuuya while he was talking. “I know that no one ever taught you this, but the world doesn’t revolve around you! There are people who are actually starving and dying out there, but you feel the urge to steal wine when your fathers have given you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“You aren’t my fucking dads!” Chuuya yelled back. “I don’t care what the law says or what you two say- I already raised myself! Throw me out if you fucking want. I don’t know how else to get this through your head: I didn’t want this!”

Chuuya pretended that he couldn’t see the pained faces on Paul and Arthur- he couldn’t be bothered to care about this. Shirase was right, he shouldn’t have gone with them at all. Arthur reached out to try to comfort Chuuya, but he slapped his hand away. “Sweetheart, can you just talk to us without yelling?”

“Depends if Paul can stop being an asshole,” he glared daggers at his so-called father.

“Nakahara Chuuya!” Paul snapped. “You have been nothing but ungrateful, disobedient, and stubborn ever since you got here! I have never met such a selfish-”

“Paul, love-”

“No, I want to hear what he thinks of me,” Chuuya dug his fingernails into his skin. He knew that he’d been all of those things towards the couple, but he couldn’t help it. And being called selfish to his face right after Shirase had done the same thing… It stung a little harsher than he wanted, but he chased the ache. ”Please, Paul, continue.”

“You think that you’re just so perfect, don’t you?” the man’s face was more hurt than angry, which hit Chuuya’s heart a little worse. “You don’t realize that people care about you and they try so hard to make you happy because you’re too busy crying over people who never cared about you in the first place. You keep asking for more and more from us, but you haven’t given the slightest bit of affection back! I’m not asking you to call me your dad, I’m just asking for a damn thank you every so often! Maybe you’re right- maybe we shouldn’t have ever adopted you!”

That was when Arthur started to calm Paul down even more, whispering things in his ear that Chuuya couldn’t hear. He just stood there and listened to all of the words that he knew that he deserved. Paul continued.

“Since you’d be so much happier serving people who have no interest in even having a conversation with you and we’d be happier if we didn’t have to deal with such an ungrateful brat! If this is what you were like before, then it’s no fucking wonder that your mother killed herself because of you!”

“What?”

Chuuya’s rage and yearning for pain immediately stopped, instead being replaced with some kind of physical ache in his heart. He’d never felt this kind of hurt before and it was far too much. When everyone throughout his entire life told Chuuya that his mother had suffered a tragic accident, did they mean the birth of her son? She killed herself because of Chuuya. Holy shit.

None of the anger from before was on his face anymore. Maybe the complete change in demeanor brought Paul back to his senses because he immediately backtracked, “Wait, Chuuya- I didn’t mean-”

“No,” he shook his head. “No, I get it… I think I’ll just- um- leave now.”

Too many thoughts were traveling through his brain, but at the same time there were none at all. He just realized that he really just fucked everything up that he’d ever cared about. And he was selfish, even if his brain hated to admit it. That’s exactly what was happening. He didn’t even know what he was doing, trying to live with two people who genuinely made an effort for him. They deserved better than some stuck-up child who refused to even go to his classes. He didn’t know where to go though. So he just walked.

Walked right in front of a car.

And that was when he ended up in the hospital. He groaned as he remembered everything. He hadn’t meant to get hit by the car- he was just too overwhelmed to even think about his own safety. But he supposed it was what he deserved for his awful behavior the past few months. Throat still dry, he tried to speak again, “I’m sorry.”

“No, love- it’s all my fault,” Paul shook his head frantically. “I shouldn’t have said any of that. It was wrong of me.”

“I dunno, man. I was being a total dick,” Chuuya gave a light chuckle, trying to lighten the mood at least a little bit. It didn’t really work. Eventually, he asked, “What’s wrong with me? Like- what injuries do I have?”

“A really bad concussion. And a broken leg.”

“And where’s Arthur?”

“Getting food. Neither of us wanted to leave your side so we had to play rock, paper, scissors,” Paul tried to smile, squeezing Chuuya’s hand lightly. Chuuya didn’t even notice that he’d been holding it til now. He tried to return the light smile. “I messaged him when you started waking up, so he should be here any minute now.”

After a moment, Chuuya started talking again. “Hey, Paul?”

“Yes, love?”

“I don’t think I know how to be loved,” Chuuya looked up at the ceiling, feeling the tears well up in his eyes. He didn’t know what he’d done to his mother to drive her to suicide, but if it was anything like the way he treated his new fathers, he understood why she’d do it. Chuuya knew how to give. As far as his memory went, he did everything for the Sheep- even at the age of eight. He never learned how to receive. So when it came to that, he followed in the footsteps of everyone he’d ever given to. He just took.

Paul just looked at him with fondness in his eyes. How could he still look at Chuuya like that after everything? “But we love you all the same.”

Not too long after, Paul had to leave and have some kind of discussion with the nurses and doctors about his condition and how long he’d be hospitalized. When Chuuya thought that he could have a second to himself, he heard a voice call from the other side of the room.

“Quite the family.”

Chuuya literally yelped when he heard the person speaking, turning his head a little too fast and making his head ache somehow worse. The boy he was looking at could only be described as sickly. His haircut was horrendous at best and he was thin to the point that Chuuya wasn’t sure that he’d eaten in years. He also had an IV pole with an IV bag and drip attached to his wrist. His smile was creepy at best.

“Must be nice to have someone care about you that much,” he hummed, yet there wasn’t a hint of maliciousness in his voice. It almost sounded like he was genuinely happy for Chuuya.

“Oh- yeah? I’m kinda an asshole though. That’s why I’m… here,” Chuuya shrugged with a sigh. “What about you? What are you here for?”

“A lot,” the boy’s eyes met Chuuya’s happily. “My name’s Doc.”

“Chuuya.”

“I assumed.”

That was the start to a friendship that would last a lifetime. Not too long after they both got discharged from the hospital, Doc introduced Chuuya to his other friends- all of them a bit older than Chuuya, but not by enough for Chuuya to mind. Eventually, they called themselves the Flags and spent the majority of their time breaking into buildings and causing trouble. Not that anyone had ever caught them. Even though it was extremely painful, the hospital provided Chuuya with good memories at age fifteen. He wished that it lasted.

When Chuuya woke up, he thought that he was in a hospital again. He felt like he had just gotten hit by the car after fighting with his father. The walls were too white, the lights too bright, and the voices- the voices were actually quiet and extremely familiar this time.

“Dad?” he called from instinct. Part of him genuinely expected his dads to be there taking care of him. But of course, it was only wishful thinking.

“Guess again,” one of the voices responded, walking closer to Chuuya- presumably to check on his now awake body.

“Yosano?” Chuuya’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to his coworker with confusion. “What are you doing here- no, what am I doing here? Where is here?”

“I was walking back to my place and I noticed am awfully familiar body passed out on the ground, so I decided to kidnap him and bring him home with me until he got better,” she put her stethoscope against Chuuya’s heart and listened from the other side for a second. Chuuya realized that his sweatshirt had been taken off. Shit. He tried to take deep breaths, knowing that Yosano would be able to tell if his heartbeat sped up. After a second, she took it off his heart and her ears, turning around to put them away. Chuuya swore that he heard another voice when he woke up- had he hallucinated that? Perhaps the only good part to this was that maybe he’d just mistaken all of the emotions that he felt with Dazai. Maybe he was just feeling the dizziness that made him pass out. Yeah, that was right. “Your heartbeat is regular, but your vitals were insanely low when I first took them.”

“Thanks for the help, but I’m feeling totally fine now so-” Chuuya pushed himself off the bed, feeling extremely dizzy after doing so. “So- um- I’m going to head back to my place.”

“With the upmost respect, Nakahara, you are in no condition to be walking anywhere right now,” Yosano sighed. “What do you want to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.”

She gave him an unamused glance, “Answer me or else you’ll have to eat whatever the fuck I decide to make you- is that more clear for you?”

“Trust me, Yosano- I’m really okay. I must’ve just gotten a little too hot earlier and passed out,” he tried to fight his way out.

“Do you like grilled cheese?”

There was no getting out of this, was there? “I suppose.”

“Osamu! Make Chuuya a grilled cheese!” Yosano yelled. “And make sure you don’t burn it this time!”

“I didn’t burn it last time!”

“Yeah, right!” she turned her attention back to Chuuya with a light chuckle. “The audacity of that guy.”

“Dazai’s here?” Who was Chuuya kidding- of course, Dazai was here. They were dating. It made sense. (And why would Dazai want someone who somehow managed to have an issue every week when he could have a famous actress who also happened to know a bunch of medical stuff?)

“Oh, yeah. You don’t mind, do you?” she grabbed some other items from a desk across the room. “I didn’t think you’d mind since you two are like- practically dating at this point.”

“Huh?”

“What?” Yosano’s face when she turned back to Chuuya was of genuine surprise. “You do like him- don’t you?”

Chuuya swore that his face immediately turned the color of his hair, “I feel like this isn’t a conversation I should be having with his girlfriend.”

“His girlfriend?” her jaw literally dropped as she repeated his words. Then, slowly, she started laughing. “As if I would ever date Osamu!”

“But you guys were… kissing?” Chuuya couldn’t tell if he was going insane or not. Did he hit his head too hard when he passed out?

“Did he really not let you know that it was for the press?” her face remained amused as she finally started getting back to her doctorly duties. She put a blood pressure monitor on his finger and then another blood pressure machine around his arm and started pumping it up. “He’s not really my type, you know?”

“You’re literally kidding me right now,” he swore that if Dazai was in the room, he would punch him in the face so hard. “I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t even worry about it- Osamu’s dumber by far, I promise you.”

“Well, I know that,” Chuuya joked. “That idiot-”

“Voila! A grilled cheese for the gentleman with the tacky hair,” Dazai walked into the room, holding a sandwich on his plate and presenting it to Chuuya. Chuuya gave him a punch in the arm for the insult. “What were we talking about?”

“We were talking shit about you,” he growled at the actor, to which he dramatically gasped.

“I’m wounded! Betrayed by my two closest friends! Unimaginable pain!”

“Yeah, sob about it, asshole.”

“I’ve been nothing but caring for my precious dog and this is the thanks I get! I’m never getting a dog ever again.”

(Good. Chuuya’s the only one who can be Dazai’s.)

“I’m still not your dog!” Chuuya bared his teeth, which he immediately realized was proving Dazai’s point. When the brunette started laughing, Chuuya turned away with a scowl, “Fuck off.”

“Fine, fine! I’ll stop interrupting the medical examination or whatever,” he pouted, walking over to the door. “But let me know when you guys are done! I’m bored!”

Before leaving, he gave Chuuya one last look, eyes flickering across his body and frowning before walking away. Chuuya was going to call back after him, but after the frown, he felt too conscious of his looks again. Why did Dazai frown after looking at him? Well, who wouldn’t?

“Your blood pressure is still hella low. Part of me is impressed that you managed to act so well today despite it, but the other part of me wants to yell at you for not taking care of your damn body,” she sighed, taking all of the stuff off of him. After putting that up, she noticed that Chuuya still hadn’t touched his grilled cheese. “Go ahead and eat.”

“I’m really just not hungry-”

“Forgive me if I’m being too blunt,” Yosano cut him off. “But do you have an eating disorder?”

“Why would you think that?” Chuuya couldn’t look her in the eyes. He simply stared at the plate of food that he refused to eat.

“I see the way you’re looking at that food,” her voice was alarmingly caring. To an extent that Chuuya didn’t deserve. “Not to mention, if it weren’t for your muscle, you’d be skin and bones by now. But your muscle is definitely not in the best shape anymore. Lack of food will do that to you. All of this without even talking about how you fainted in the middle of the sidewalk today.”

“I don’t deserve to eat,” he choked out, eyes not leaving the food in front of him. “I’m wasting your food, wasting your time. And I don’t even need it. My weight hasn’t been going down enough.”

“Have you considered that your weight isn’t going down because you’re stuck?” Chuuya waited for her to elaborate. After a second, she let out a sigh, “Nakahara, when your weight gets abnormally low, your body stops finding ways to lose it. Yeah, you can still drop, but it’s a lot fucking harder than it would’ve been when you first stopped eating.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And I’m sorry- I really am. I’ve witnessed how bad eating disorders get firsthand, but I can’t let you leave here without eating a little bit. Just half of the sandwich,” she pleaded.

Chuuya didn’t know what to do, what to say. So he said what he was thinking, “Dazai frowned when he looked at my body.”

And he knew that it sounded like he was starving himself for some kind of sick validation, but that’s exactly what was happening. Not validation from Dazai, but from society in general. It was bad when he was nineteen- when he first started skipping meals, but after those articles came out about him dating Dazai… half of the comments talked about his weight. He couldn’t deal with that.

“Darling, I don’t think that he dislikes your body,” Yosano comforted. She put her hand on Chuuya’s shoulder and rubbed it soothingly. “I think that he’s scared.”

“I don’t think Dazai knows how to be scared,” he half-joked. It was the truth, but he spoke it with a laugh. Yosano didn’t laugh back.

“Trust me, he’s scared of so many things. He just doesn’t know how to express it.”

“I wish I could help him,” Chuuya thought back to the night in the hotel, remembering how he could only drink until he threw up instead of comforting the person who truly needed it. “I want to help him.”

“I didn’t say this, Nakahara,” she smiled at him. It almost felt like she was a mother giving her blessing, “But if anyone can make him help himself, I think it’s you.”

Chuuya finally met her eyes, allowing himself the comfort that came with it. He was going to heal, even if the Sheep or his own twisted version of himself refused it. A few moments passed, but neither of them broke the eye contact. It felt like a hug. It felt safe.

“Okay, you successfully distracted me for a while, but you still have to eat,” Yosano turned his attention back to the food on his lap. “Just half of it and I’ll happily allow you to go back to your apartment and we can either never speak of this again or I can help you- whatever you want.”

He grabbed the sandwich. The thought of food going in his mouth was just odd to him now. It’d been days since he’d eaten a single thing, weeks since anything stayed in his stomach. Taking a deep breath and counting to three, he took a bite.

It was poorly made- undercooked, cheese barely melted, still cold in the center, not to mention that it’d been sitting at room temperature for so long- but it was food. Chuuya gagged the second it went in his mouth, but he forced himself to chew and swallow it anyway. He took a bite. He did it.

“I’m proud of you,” Yosano smiled at him.

Half of the sandwich went slowly, though Chuuya still felt a small part of himself smile as he healed. He could hear Pianoman speaking to him, “You did good. It’s alright if you can’t have the other half. You’re trying. And that matters far more than anything else right now. No more “I don’t deserve this”, okay? Because nothing you blame yourself for is your fault. I love you.”

If Chuuya were alone, he’d whisper it back.

But it hurt too. The other part of him was yelling at him, berating him for allowing himself to eat food that someone else made for him. Why should it be wasted on someone like Chuuya? They didn’t know how awful of a person Chuuya was, so if they knew, he wouldn’t be offered such kindness. No one would offer him kindness if they knew the truth.

And that part had his physical body on his side, because the second that he swallowed a single piece, he felt like he was going to throw up. He felt it in the back of his throat and in the middle of his stomach- the pieces begging to come back up.

“I won’t throw up,” he told himself.

“I believe in you,” Yosano nodded, hovering over him like a guardian angel. “But I understand that it’s hard.”

“It is.”

Not long after, Yosano allowed him to leave the room, staying back to make sure that she wrote down all useful information regarding Chuuya’s health. She may have told Chuuya that they could never talk about this ever again, but that didn’t mean that she couldn't still take care of him. While Yosano finished that up, Chuuya was invited to join Dazai in the living room.

“Hey,” Chuuya spoke softly, still feeling uncomfortable from the food. Dazai turned to look at Chuuya with wide eyes very quickly.

“Hey,” he smiled. “How’s it looking? Did Akiko just let you know that you only have ten minutes left to live?”

“Oh, haha, very funny,” the redhead rolled his eyes as he sat down on the couch next to Dazai, pretending that he didn’t have a smile on his face. “What if I actually did only have ten minutes left, huh? That’d be so insensitive- I could get you cancelled on Twitter so easily.”

“I’m sure a lot more than that could get me canceled,” Dazai smirked. “But I’m so happy that my dog decided to spend his last minutes with his hardworking owner!”

“You’re smiling now, but you won’t be once you realize I’m only here to beat you up one last time,” Chuuya glared at him, giving him a light punch as if that was the beating he was talking about.

“So abusive! Nothing will ever heal the pain in not only my arm, but also my tragic heart,” he dramatically laid down on the couch as if he had passed out. “Other than Prince Charming’s kiss perhaps.”

“I’ll go grab Yosano.”

It was a joke, Chuuya had to remind himself again and again. At some point was Dazai just teasing him? Did Dazai realize Chuuya’s feelings before Chuuya even did? Either way, Dazai immediately sat back up, “Ugh, you’re no fun.”

Not that it was like Dazai had to tell Chuuya about the reality of his relationship with Yosano, but part of him wondered why he didn’t. (Well, there was no reason for him to tell Chuuya about it anyway, but he wished that he’d known.) Would it be an asshole move if he tested whether or not Dazai would tell him?

“What, you don’t want your girlfriend to kiss you? Straight men are weird.”

Dazai looked at him for a second, but then shook his head, “What can I say? Maybe I need something disgusting to really wake me up!”

“Excuse me? I would give you the best damn kiss of your life!” he bit back despite the questions going through his head.

He wouldn’t tell Chuuya. Why? Did he really just want Chuuya to take the hint that he had no interest in him whatsoever? Or was Chuuya not actually as close to Dazai as he thought he was?

Yosano walked in before Dazai had the chance to respond, holding a clipboard as if she were his real doctor, “Okay, I have all of the information I need in case I need to treat you again, which I surely hope I don’t. You’re free to leave, but please make sure you… properly take care of yourself. Do you think you can walk home? If you’re feeling weak, you can stay here as long as you need.”

She didn’t want to reveal Chuuya’s eating disorder in front of Dazai; he appreciated that.

“I’m good to-”

“Stay here,” Dazai spoke for him. Chuuya stared at him for a second, not understanding why Dazai would volunteer him to stay like that. “You need the rest.”

“I think I would know if I need rest or not. Besides, you don’t even know what’s wrong, so I don’t think you have the right to make the calls here,” he looked at Dazai skeptically.

“Fine, then do whatever. Leave.”

…

Even though Chuuya knew what he was doing, it still completely worked, “When you say shit like that, it makes me wanna stay just to spite you.”

“He said he wanted to stay,” Dazai smiled at Yosano. “I didn’t say it, he did this time!”

“You asshole-”

Chapter Text

Dazai and Chuuya were like children.

Akiko had to stop them from fighting every few minutes- almost definitely regretting letting both of them stay at the same time. Dazai just wanted to be away from Mori for a night though, which she understood more than anyone. That was the plan after filming because Dazai knew that he would need to talk to someone about it and Akiko was great at letting Dazai talk things out as if they weren’t actually serious. Other people might ask him questions and make him actually think about whatever he was venting about, but not Akiko.

With Chuuya there, he couldn’t exactly talk about it. He was stuck with his own emotions and no outlet- which was exactly what he wanted to force himself into. If Chuuya’s there, he doesn’t waste time trying to process his emotions. He just has them and they exist. That’s it. But when Chuuya’s gone, Dazai can’t get him out of his head, and he remembered every mistake that he made, every dash of happiness, and every touch that Chuuya gave him.

He would rather just have emotions than understand them.

Though in all honesty, he would rather just have no emotions at all, but ever since meeting Chuuya he hadn’t been able to turn them off. And of his current emotions, worry was still towards the top of the list.

When he’d seen Chuuya passed out earlier, he couldn’t even fathom why that would’ve happened- even wearing such warm clothes in their current weather wouldn’t warrant a heatstroke. All he knew was that he needed to get Chuuya somewhere safe and make sure he stayed safe. And then seeing Chuuya shirtless made Dazai realize that he’d lost a lot of the muscle that he definitely had before and being that tiny… it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Especially looking back on how poorly Chuuya reacted to any mention of dinner together and trying on the crop top when they’d gone shopping.

But he wasn’t going to bring it up if Chuuya wasn’t. As long as Chuuya was going to start trying to eat, that was more than enough for Dazai. (He pretended that he couldn’t hear Chuuya throwing up not long after agreeing to stay. Healing took time- Dazai knew that better than anyone.)

Akiko left not too long later to buy a few extra medical supplies as well as groceries, leaving Chuuya in charge to make sure Dazai didn’t burn the house down while she was gone.

“Chibi!” Dazai called when Chuuya walked back into the living room after grabbing his sweatshirt and putting it on again. “Entertain me! I’m so bored!”

“Read a book, asshole!” he grumbled back, sitting down near him on the couch. “I’m not your jester or something!”

“How cute!” the brunette clapped. “I’m your king and you’re my obedient jester, here to entertain me however I please.”

“I’m sure you’ll be entertained when I snap your neck.”

“What can I say? Death is fascinating enough as it is, but it’d be nice of you to aid me in my quest for it.”

“At some point, I should just stop being shocked when you say creepy shit like this,” Chuuya sighed, grabbing Akiko’s TV remote. “Wanna get your ass kicked at Mario Kart?”

“Oh, you’re on!”

After a few rounds of Mario Kart, most of which that Dazai won, Chuuya let himself collapse on the couch, “Okay, fuck off- we both know you cheated that time!”

“How do you even cheat at Mario Kart?” Dazai stared at him, flabbergasted.

“Oh, hush- do you think Yosano would mind if I had a bottle of wine?” Chuuya dug his head into the couch cushion. Dazai thought that it was a little too funny how similar he was to dogs, despite his nonstop protests against it. Cute.

Not cute. Stop it.

“She’ll never forgive you,” Dazai smiled, resisting the urge to ruffle his dog’s hair. It was just right there.

“I hate that I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” he lulled, starting to get up, but immediately froze for a second from dizziness.

“Well, that girl loves her wine,” Chuuya groaned at that, but didn’t further question it. “But… I would be totally willing to say that I stole it if you do something for me.”

Chuuya stared at him questioningly, “Depends… If you killed someone I’m not burying the body for you.”

“Gasp! I can’t believe you would think that I would ever kill anyone,” Dazai’s mouth dropped and he grasped his heart sarcastically. “My own dog thinks so low of me.”

The glare that he received from that told him enough.

“Fine, fine!” he whined. “I’ve been cooking recently and I just learned a new recipe and I wanna try it out. If I cook it, can you try it for me?”

Dazai had barely cooked a day in his entire goddamn life; he had not learned a new recipe since he learned how to heat up a bag of ramen. There was no way that he was going to bring up something that he didn’t technically even know to Chuuya. So it was just his own way of silently looking out for him. Not that he cared all that much about him.

Chuuya took a second, staring intensely at the cushion beside Dazai’s leg, before sighing, “If it tastes like shit, I’ll kill you.”

“As expected!”

“Don’t expect shit from me!”

“But you just make it so easy,” Dazai pouted at him, but clapped happily as he made his way to the kitchen. “The wine is over here, by the way!”

He grabbed a bottle and put it on the table, assuming that Chuuya would follow behind soon, which he did. Chuuya grabbed the bottle of wine and looked at it, as if examining every crevice of it. Weirdo. “Holy shit, this is nice.”

“What can I say? She’s almost as crazy as you when it comes to her wine,” he shrugged, scrolling on his phone to frantically find a recipe that wouldn’t be impossible for an amateur like himself to make.

“Ay- I haven’t had good wine in like two months!” Chuuya huffed, going over to the cabinets to look for a wine glass. Akiko kept her wine glasses on the top shelf… Loser.

“Need some help there?” Dazai giggled as he lifted his eyes off of his phone for a second to see Chuuya starting to climb onto her counter to grab it.

“I might be short, but I’m efficient! I can grab the damn w- hey!”

Dazai went up to simply grab the glass with ease, but also immediately realized when Chuuya turned around just how close they were. Refusing to show anything on his face, he tried to calm himself down, despite how fuzzy his brain went at the sight of Chuuya so close again. He’d frozen for a second, but he swore that Chuuya had too. It was like everything froze around them, until Dazai forced himself away. These weren’t the feelings that he was okay with right now.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dazai walked away after placing the glass next to the bottle, getting back on his phone to keep searching for recipes. And to avoid looking at Chuuya. But mostly the recipe. “My poor Chibi can’t even grab a wine glass- what’ll he ever do in France without me?”

Not that he meant to bring up Chuuya moving- he mentally scolded himself for talking about it. Why was he so internally bitter about Chuuya going somewhere that he considered home? It was something that just slipped in his tease, but saying it out loud just made him feel worse. Chuuya was leaving.

“I can handle myself just fine, asshole!” he huffed, getting himself off the counter and opening the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “Are you having any?”

“Aw, he cares so much,” the brunette smiled, putting a hand to his chest. “But no, I don’t drink that disgusting shit.”

“It’s wine! It’s far less disgusting than you are!”

“And suddenly he’s mean again,” Dazai sniffled. “While I’m about to cook for him too.”

“No one asked you to do that,” Chuuya took a sip of the wine, sighing contently. “Holy shit, I missed this.”

Dazai decided to focus on actually finding something that could appease Chuuya and that was physically possible for him to make. Miso soup seemed easy enough, right? And Akiko had all of the ingredients there because she also had some weird appreciation for it, plus Chuuya would likely be more comfortable having something small and liquid. Triple win.

He started cutting the tofu in silence, neither of them saying anything as Dazai presumed that Chuuya was just on his phone. Dazai was concentrating a little too hard on making sure that he didn’t accidentally cut himself. Or purposefully. The urge was difficult to ignore, holding the knife in his hand, but he refused to let himself get blood on Chuuya’s food. Just slice after slice, he could do this.

It wasn’t like the instructions were confusing, but saying that Dazai wasn’t confused by it would be blatantly lying, “What the hell is this…?”

“Are you trying to make miso soup?” Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows, looking over at Dazai, who was staring at his phone and biting his lip far too intensely.

“... Maybe.”

Chuuya got out of his seat and left his half drinken wine glass on the table, walking over to grab a pot and put water in it. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“As if! I don’t want a slug getting his slime all over my precious food!” Dazai frowned.

“We both know that if you try to make it all by yourself, it’s gonna be poison anyway,” Chuuya shrugged with a smile as he put the pot on the stove and turned on the heat.

“What a pleasant death!”

“How are you not in a mental asylum?” he rolled his eyes, giving Dazai a kick to his leg as he walked past to raid the fridge to find the ingredients. “If I teach you this time then you can try to make it for someone else so that they don’t die a tragic death. Good?”

“Fine,” Dazai whined. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be mean if you weren’t an asshole!” Chuuya turned his head back and growled at Dazai.

And so they cooked, mostly with Chuuya teaching Dazai the most basic of cooking instructions, which led Dazai to wonder how Chuuya even trusted that Dazai had “learned a new recipe” recently. It seemed rather obvious that Dazai barely cooked a day in his life- especially since he didn’t even have a kitchen. But not once did Chuuya bring up how inexperienced Dazai was; he was unreasonably patient through the whole process. Somehow, it didn’t even take more than thirty minutes to finish making everything, which shocked Dazai more than it should’ve, but his cooking skills were far too bad to know how fast he could finish making a dish.

Perhaps the craziest part was that Dazai made it. Chuuya hadn’t done any of the work for him, only guiding him to do what was right.

“Ay, make sure you stir the bonito flakes!” Chuuya called. “Have you started cutting the green onion yet?”

Dazai’s silence was enough to tell Chuuya that he absolutely did not.

“It’s fine, I’ll do that part. You focus on the soup itself- I’m sure even an idiot like you can cut green onion on your own.”

Even though Chuuya told him to focus on the soup, he was too busy staring at the beautiful redhead in front of him. Of course, Chuuya knew how to cook- he was the epitome of perfection. He was cutting the green onion with such precision, staring at it lazily as he sliced. His hair fell so perfectly in front of his face, accentuating his side profile. Why was he so pretty? Why did Dazai’s heart jump like this every time he stopped to think about Chuuya?

Cut it out.

They finished without Dazai pausing like that again. He made himself focus on the meal at hand, not wanting to disappoint Chuuya for some reason. Chuuya let him know when it was done and went to search for bowls, but Dazai got them on his own. Dazai knew this house- Chuuya didn’t.

“Voila!” Dazai poured Chuuya a bowl and then another for himself. “Bon appetit!”

“Je pensais que j'étais le français?” Chuuya smiled with a chuckle, bringing it over to his seat with his wine. Then after looking down at his soup and realizing he hadn’t grabbed a spoon, he asked, “Où est les cuillères?”

Instead of answering, Dazai just grabbed one and brought it over to Chuuya before sitting down next to him with his own soup. “I didn’t learn French for nothing!”

“Why did you learn French?” Chuuya questioned, looking at him inquisitively as he took another sip of his wine.

“I was bored,” Dazai shrugged.

It wasn’t necessarily a lie; it was a long time ago and he was in between roles, so he was essentially just living with Mori. He wasn’t allowed to go outside for fear that he’d be bombarded, though looking back, it was likely just Mori wanting that control over him. So he was forced to stay in Mori’s house with nothing but his phone to keep him company. That was when he dedicated himself to learning a language.

The reason that he’d chosen French just sounded embarrassing to him now: he simply thought that it was a hot language. If it made people more attracted to him, not only as a star on TV, but also when he went to bars to hook up, then he was willing to learn a whole language for that.

French was now something he connected to Chuuya, though. He wasn’t sure that he could use it for something as meaningless as a line in an interview or for a hookup anymore.

“You’re crazy,” Chuuya sighed, finally taking a spoonful of the soup and raising it to his lips.

It felt like a million years before Chuuya finally spoke, even though the second he swallowed it he smiled, “Ay- it’s actually good.”

Dazai wished that his face didn’t look so surprised. “Really?”

“C’mon, try it yourself,” he nudged the brunette, to which he came back to his senses and smirked happily.

“I mean, of course it’s good. I’m a pro-chef, you know!” Dazai faked his confidence, knowing fully well that it was too late to pretend he’d known what he was doing the whole time. Chuuya’s raised eyebrow and smile was worth it.

“Whatever you say, idiot,” he took another sip.

Chuuya wasn’t lying- the soup itself was actually good enough for Dazai to have a whole bowl. It wasn’t extraordinary, but Chuuya himself had almost half of the bowl and didn’t look super uncomfortable. If he didn’t end up throwing up, Dazai would consider the whole night a major win.

They ate in silence, and once they’d finished, Chuuya finished his glass of wine and poured himself a bit more before putting the bottle in the fridge to keep it preserved. It was unreasonable calm, despite neither of the two normally caring for silence.

After Chuuya took another sip of his second glass, he finally broke the silence, “Why’d you lie about dating Yosano?”

Shit.

“What are you talking about?” Dazai tried to play it off. If Dazai pretended enough, Chuuya would think that they really were together, right?

“Yosano told me that you guys were just doing it for press.”

Well, there wasn’t any good way to get out of that one. Why had Akiko told him the truth? Was there anything Dazai could do to get himself out of answering Chuuya’s question? Was there any lie that Dazai could say that wouldn’t be upsetting for Chuuya to hear?

“I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”

It wasn’t a lie.

“And you aren’t supposed to be anywhere near me outside of work, but here we are- by your will too. I was going to leave hours ago,” Chuuya reasoned, looking into Dazai’s eyes to try to find any hint of why he would lie. Dazai broke eye contact. He couldn’t handle it.

He couldn’t handle any of this.

“Well, maybe I just didn’t trust you with it,” Dazai got out of his seat to walk away from Chuuya. He ditched the entire idea of trying not to hurt him. If Chuuya was hurt, then Dazai would hurt too. He deserved to feel hurt. He wanted to ruin every good thing in his life.

“I thought you trusted me more than anything.”

Dazai froze where he stood. That fucking line. He hadn’t meant to say it while kissing Chuuya, but God, it was just true. It came out before he could even stop himself and he was grateful that it fit the scene. And of course, Chuuya wouldn’t just accept Dazai being an asshole. Why? They both knew that it was true- Dazai was a horrible person and Chuuya shouldn’t try to make things any better. After a second, he spoke as smoothly as he could, “That’s Shuji. Don’t mix up fiction with reality.”

“Right, right.”

With that ending the conversation, Dazai started walking into Akiko’s guest room- one that was essentially just Dazai’s room now. He only managed to take one step before Chuuya spoke again.

“We both know that you wouldn’t have spent weeks spending time with me after work if you didn’t trust me.”

“Fine.” Dazai turned around and looked Chuuya dead in the eyes, not showing a hint of emotion. This was what he was used to- being so tired of himself that he couldn’t even feel anything. “How’s this for trust? I didn’t tell you about Akiko because as long as people think that I’m with her, no one can find out that I can’t figure out what the fuck is wrong with me.”

Why had he done that? Why had he turned off all his emotions- turned off all of his thoughts in the process? He was just angry, but he couldn’t even find a way to express it, so it came out in numb spouts. It was all internalized, knowing that he would definitely end the night with a few more slices on his skin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chuuya asked cautiously. He was new to Dazai’s numb side; he hadn’t seen Dazai look like this before. Dazai couldn’t blame him.

Dazai was done with this conversation. He’d never admitted his thoughts to a single person before- Chuuya wouldn’t be the first. What would he even say? ‘I thought that I was normal in at least one way, but it turns out I can’t even make myself like a woman’? ‘Ever since I met you, I can’t stop thinking about you and how beautiful you are and I hate that I can’t control my emotions around you and I just want to meet some woman who’s good at sex so that I can pretend to live happily with her because that would be way easier than whatever this is’?

As much as Dazai’s head yelled and screamed at his body to get out of there as soon as possible, he was just stood there, frozen. There were a million reasons that he should leave- a million things that he wanted to say to just get out. But he just stared at Chuuya’s questioning eyes. There was something in them that just made Dazai want to tell him everything, to let him in. His throat dried, unable to say anything, so he just shook his head and croaked out, “I can’t.”

Chuuya got out of his seat and every part of Dazai told him that he was leaving, but that was only blissful thinking. He stood right in front of Dazai, looking up at him for a second. Then he felt arms wrap around his waist and a head dig into his chest. “It’s okay, Dazai. I’m sorry for pushing this when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it. But there’s nothing wrong with you. I might not know what you’re talking about, but even though you’re an overdramatic idiot, there’s nothing wrong with you. I will say that again and again until you believe it.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Don’t I?” Chuuya repeated Dazai’s words from their first day on set. Had that really stuck with Chuuya this whole time?

But Chuuya really didn’t. Chuuya didn’t know that the man he was hugging had disgusting feelings for him. He didn’t know that Dazai had been trying to kill himself time and time again since he was only fifteen. He didn’t know that Dazai was completely and totally fucked in the head.

Chuuya didn’t know the first thing about Dazai.

He only spoke those words so firmly because he didn’t know anything about Dazai and Dazai had worked so hard to manipulate Chuuya. It was all because Dazai crafted himself to look like this confident, cheerful person when in reality he wanted nothing more than to escape this hell of a life. There wasn’t a single thing right with Dazai, so how could there be nothing wrong? All Dazai could do was shake his head.

I wish you did.

“Dazai, I know that you’ve gone through some shit, even if I don’t know the specifics of it. And I don’t doubt that you’re traumatized- I know that you aren’t always the person you show the world. Just because other people have hurt you doesn’t mean shit about you. It doesn’t make you a bad person for being in pain.”

Could Chuuya literally read his mind? It felt like he’d gone into Dazai’s soul and heard everything he wanted and then just regurgitated it to him. How Chuuya always managed to calm him down, Dazai didn’t know. His numbness subsided. He let himself feel the warmth of Chuuya against his body, still holding him even though Dazai didn’t reciprocate the hug.

He wrapped his arms around Chuuya and pulled him closer.

In Dazai’s life, he only realized that he was fucked up when he was fifteen. Since then, he never made an attempt to fix himself or heal in the slightest; what was the point? Sure, there were people who cared- Akiko, Odasaku, Ango, his fans. But that didn’t make him feel like he was alive, didn’t make him feel human. And yet something about Chuuya just drew it out from him. Chuuya was so human that it just rubbed off onto Dazai and made him crave happiness. There was just something so bright about him.

And this was the first step to healing.

“I’m…” he braced himself. This was his first time admitting it to anyone- his first time admitting it to himself. “... not straight.”

He felt Chuuya’s face shift to look up at Dazai, but Dazai couldn’t make eye contact right now. It was a lot for him to say that; he was sure that Chuuya could feel his fast heartbeat against his chest. Dazai knew that Chuuya would be supportive- he knew that Chuuya wasn’t straight either, but somehow, it just felt wrong when Dazai wasn’t. Dazai’s broken. He didn’t even know that he could have deep feelings for someone like that until just two months ago. But Chuuya had been implanted in his brain from the second that he’d seen him.

“I’m proud of you for saying that.”

Neither of them moved, neither of them dared even let out the tiniest noise. They just stood there in silence, holding each other close and trying to breath clearly. It was just… comfortable. Dazai let out heavier breaths, trying to calm himself down more. Chuuya was proud of him. For being broken? For admitting that he was fucked up? But none of that mattered when Chuuya was holding Dazai so close, like he was the only person in the world who existed.

This was their start.

Chapter Text

A lot of Chuuya’s teen years were spent in trouble.

He didn’t mean to abuse the power he’d been granted after the argument with Paul and Arthur, but he almost immediately went back to skipping school and stealing wine. Only this time, he had friends who he did so with. And the most important thing was that he hadn’t gotten caught, and therefore, he could pretend his behavior improved.

It had improved though, even if it was only slightly. He started eating dinner with the two and even did chores every once in a while. Paul had been extremely apologetic ever since the incident and made sure that Chuuya was entirely comfortable with everything- over and over again assuring him that he didn’t need to have dinner with them. But Chuuya did anyway. He felt like he had to make it up to them and it reduced the guilt he felt from sneaking out to get high with the Flags.

Most of the Flags even discouraged his behavior. Pianoman and Lippmann made it a point to stop Chuuya from smoking and drinking so often, going to buy him packs of gum as an attempt to replace cigarettes. Iceman never really cared what Chuuya did, but he’d told him about the risks of everything. As long as Chuuya knew what he was getting into, he didn’t mind. Albatross and Doc, who were both closer in age to Chuuya, openly encouraged it. Even though Doc couldn’t join in due to his major health issues, he said that life was too short to waste it while Albatross often smoked and drank with Chuuya.

Despite all of the older members’ thoughts, they were all rather bad people. They often graffitied people’s property, stole things only to sell them for more money, and broke into old houses to just hang out. As much as this should’ve gotten them in trouble with the police, Lippmann’s sweet talking could get anyone out of any situation. Chuuya swore that if Lippmann had been seen murdering someone, he could make the person who saw him think that they were the murderer.

That day was like any other, but Chuuya would remember it for his entire life. He’d just been sitting at an abandoned playground with a bottle of nice wine in his hand, taking a large gulp as someone approached.

“You’re up early,” Iceman sat on the swing next to Chuuya. “Didn’t wanna sleep after skipping today?”

“Nah,” he shook his head, already tipsy from how much he drank. It’d be a wonder if he was ever sober, in all honesty. “I bought some new art supplies and I wanted to mark on the big house over by Main Street.”

“I’ve gotten into trouble with them before. I don’t recommend it.”

“I can handle myself,” Chuuya huffed, switching to Japanese. “And stop talking to me in fucking French. It’s so lame.”

“Well, you should get used to it if you’re living in France,” Iceman took out a cigarette for himself and lit it, continuing in French. Annoying. But all was forgiven as soon as he handed his cigarette packet over to Chuuya. “Want one?”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

They sat on the swings in silence for a while as Chuuya started drifting to sleep, only waking up when he realized that his cigarette fell out of his mouth and burned his leg. With a groan, he got rid of it and decided to just start with his graffiti so that he could go find somewhere to sleep. Maybe he should just sneak back into his house for a while.

Either way, he happily drew all over the nice pretty house that everyone who lived on the southern edge of Paris talked about. His spray painting had gotten significantly better within the last year of meeting his friends, so at least the design looked good. The people who lived there couldn’t be too mad that someone spent the time and effort to make a beautiful drawing on their house, right?

That same troublemaker would be happily going to an art museum years later.

Back then, when he was only seventeen, he wouldn’t dare go to an art museum. Why pay money to see art when he could make his own for way less? It felt too nice and expensive for Chuuya to even imagine going, not that he ever wanted to. (If anyone noticed his longing glances to the Louvre when he went to the center of Paris, they were simply imagining things.)

Apparently Chuuya wasn’t the only person with an intense obsession with art, because Dazai had practically begged him to come with. So now they were there, standing outside the museum. Chuuya insisted that he buy his own ticket, but Dazai did reiterate that he was rich, so there wasn’t much that Chuuya could really do there.

Upon stepping inside, everything seemed to cost at least ten times more than Chuuya’s entire existence. He really should’ve worn something nicer than the oversized jacket and baggy jeans. Especially when standing next to Dazai Osamu, who was already attractive as hell in general, but even more so now that he was wearing a fancy vest and dress pants. Both things that he’d bought while out shopping with Chuuya. On top of that, he had a nice beige trench coat that he was wearing too.

“Couldn’t you’ve given me a warning before dragging me to the fanciest place in the damn city?” Chuuya angrily whispered to Dazai as they walked in. There were barely any other people, but they were mostly in suits and dresses. It wasn’t necessarily a casual place to come. “If I’d known then I wouldn’t have shown up in this bullshit!”

“Oh, come on, Chibi,” Dazai smiled with an eye roll. “You look fine.”

“You won’t by the time I’m done with you,” he growled harshly, walking ahead to where they show their tickets. Once they were checked in, Chuuya simply stood and waited for Dazai to give some direction. Dazai looked through each hallway to decide which to go down. “Ay, idiot. We have time for everything as of right now, but if you keep spending time deciding where to go, we sure as hell won't.”

“Fine!” Dazai whined. “Let’s just start by going down this one.”

Before Chuuya could even start walking, Dazai grabbed his hand and started dragging him over to that direction. The hallway itself led to one of the many exhibits that they had- this one specifically for Picasso. Holy shit- if there was a Picasso exhibit here, just how nice of a museum was this? Well, it’s niceness was already confirmed with how fanicily everyone else looked, but this was a new shock to him.

He stared at the painting in front of them, focusing on all the bright colors and bold lines. There wasn’t anything in particular that he really loved about Picasso’s art, but the way that he painted allowed people to interpret their own meaning into different pieces. For instance, the one that Chuuya was looking at now was titled ‘The Kiss’ and in all honesty, the blur of shapes and colors was perfectly suited for it. That was exactly what Chuuya had seen when he’d kissed Dazai. He didn’t want to search for further meaning in it, because what he wanted to see was already there. He turned to look at Dazai.

Dazai was leaned over, trying to get a look at the description of the piece, which was far too small. He looked so happy, though. And something about Dazai here at this art museum just fit him too well. Like he was meant to be there.

“I’m gonna run off and look at some of it on my own- meet you before we go to the next exhibit?” Chuuya asked, looking at Dazai expectantly to which he just nodded.

“Bark if you need me,” he smiled. A dog joke.

Chuuya went to nudge him in the side for his comment before realizing that his hand was… in Dazai’s. How long had that been for? Did he grab Dazai’s hand while he was standing there staring? Or did Dazai grab his? What was he even supposed to do now?

He hoped that his face wasn’t as red as he thought it was.

All he could do was slip his hand out of Dazai’s grasp and walk away to go stare at the other artworks. As soon as he was out of Dazai’s sight he took a few deep breaths and calmed himself down. He’d grabbed Dazai’s hand before, multiple times even. Hell, he’d held Dazai’s hand against his cheek before. There was no reason that this time should be any different.

Other than the fact that he now knew that he was madly in love with Dazai.

Woah now. He shouldn’t get ahead of himself- it was just a stupid crush that would go away in no time at all. There was no reason for him to be thinking that when in less than a year, he would never even see Dazai again unless it was on a television screen.

Just focus on the art. This was going to be Chuuya’s one and only time going to an art museum, especially as nice as this one was. He had to actually pay attention and enjoy it. And so he was. He was looking at Guernica and seeing all of the details he’d missed the first time he saw it and paying-

“I’m so sorry!”

Someone had walked right into Chuuya and in turn, splashed coffee all over his jacket. It was alright though, he didn’t care too much for this jacket anyway; not to mention, the guy who’d spilled it on him looked insanely apologetic, like Chuuya would murder him over it. Yeah, Chuuya would normally be upset, but seeing how scared that guy looked, he went into his comforting mode. “Hey, it’s okay. Seriously.”

“Are you sure? I should’ve been looking where I was going and-”

“Trust me. If it were my leather jacket, that might be a different story,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. “But I’m totally alright. Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t have anything to give you in exchange for the jacket… Could I do something to make it up to you?” the man ran a hand through his bi-colored hair awkwardly.

“No, no, no,” Chuuya waved his hands dismissively, not wanting this guy to feel like he owed Chuuya anything. It was a jacket that he barely wore, not to mention that the coffee could wash out well enough. “Just try to pay attention to where you’re walking next time.”

“Are you here with anyone? If not, we can explore and I can buy you dinner after?”

“He’s here with me.”

Chuuya didn’t even notice when Dazai had gotten behind him, but when he turned around, Dazai’s face was almost… upset? He just stared at this random man with such distaste, Chuuya had no idea where it came from. The man didn’t seem like a bad person by any means; he wondered what Dazai’s problem with him was. Dazai also put a hand on Chuuya’s shoulder, almost possessively. Was that meant to be possessive? Chuuya was too down bad to think about things clearly- it probably wasn’t like that or anything.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the man’s eyes widened and he backed off. “It wasn’t meant to be like a date or anything. But I didn’t know you were…”

“We have plans for after, so you don’t need to worry about paying him anything back, Sigma,” Dazai’s eyes didn’t stop glaring bullets into the guy’s head.

That confirmed that they knew each other. Once the man- Sigma- had left their sight, Dazai took his hand off of Chuuya and started to walk away. Chuuya ran to catch up. “Where are you going?”

“Next exhibit.”

“Are you okay? You seem like- super tense,” Chuuya’s eyebrows furrowed, not understanding the conversation that just happened moments ago. “You know that guy?”

“He’s a friend of a friend,” Dazai shrugged. “I’m all good, though- just excited to get to the Van Gogh exhibit.”

Yeah, no. That was definitely not a satisfying answer, but Chuuya didn’t make any further comment. The mention of the Van Gogh exhibit distracted him too, because what the heck? How nice is this museum?

He didn’t even realize when he slipped his hand into Dazai’s again.

- - -

The Van Gogh exhibit was breathtaking.

Dazai always felt a weird attachment to Van Gogh’s art, ever since he was a young child. Maybe it was because his parents hung it up around his house, one of the last things that he’d retained from his memories of them. Perhaps the best part of the exhibit, though, were the dark lights and projection in the center of the room. When it reflected on Chuuya, Dazai couldn’t help but smile at the beauty in front of him. Something about it suited Chuuya so well.

Van Gogh’s dark blues and bright yellows looked perfect against Chuuya’s vibrant hair and it somehow made Chuuya’s freckles pop out more when Dazai looked closely. His freckles were so pretty.

It wasn’t that Dazai had any negative feelings towards Sigma earlier, it was just the way that Chuuya had smiled at him and hadn’t gotten upset in the slightest made Dazai reflect on himself a little. Why was Chuuya so gentle with a stranger when he never even thought twice before getting mad at Dazai? The first time they’d even met, Chuuya punched Dazai in the face and was genuinely frustrated with him. And if Dazai hadn’t stepped in, would Chuuya have agreed to dinner? In a date way?

Chuuya was pretty. So damn pretty. If Sigma wasn’t totally lying about it not being a date, Dazai would be shocked- who wouldn’t want the chance to go on a date with Nakahara fucking Chuuya? The way that Chuuya’s eyes glimmered when he looked at the artwork took Dazai’s breath away even more than the masterpieces in front of him did. He didn’t know that Chuuya liked art so much.

Noted.

The hand that had slid its way into Dazai’s was pulling him from painting to painting, something that Dazai had expected himself to do to Chuuya- not the other way around. It was cute. Dazai wished that he could’ve spent the time looking closely at all of Van Gogh’s works, but he spent that time staring at the true wonder in the museum. Chuuya didn’t want to leave Dazai alone in this exhibit, which Dazai took as a major win. Fuck you, Sigma.

Similarly to his last reaction to the holding of their hands, when Chuuya noticed that their hands had attached again, his jaw dropped and his cheeks went a dusty pink. “Uh- Sorry for dragging you along with me. You can look at the other pieces on your own if you want.”

As soon as Chuuya dropped his hand, Dazai considered grabbing it again. He wanted to hold Chuuya and let the entire museum know that he was totally off-limits. Chuuya was Dazai’s dog; no one else got that privilege. But if Chuuya had reacted poorly to their hand-holding two out of two times (even if Chuuya started it one of them), he thought it would make Chuuya more comfortable if he didn’t. Instead, he just walked to stand next to Chuuya, instead of trailing behind him, and looked at the painting. “Nah, I gotta protect my dog. What kind of owner would I be if I didn’t?”

“That joke again?” Chuuya rolled his eyes, elbowing Dazai lightly. “You’re so fucking lame.”

“It’s not a joke, puppy,” Dazai smirked, admiring how Chuuya got so easily annoyed. But then he thought back to how unaffected he was from Sigma spilling coffee all over his jacket. Chuuya was still wearing the jacket too. Hmph. “Why’re you still wearing that?”

There was a pause. “Because it’s cold.”

“Wear mine,” he looked at Chuuya with narrowed eyes. It was more of a demand than a question, but he knew that Chuuya would violently disagree if he really didn’t want to. Instead, Chuuya flushed harder.

“That guy already thinks we’re together- are you sure you want the entire damn museum to?” Chuuya laughed.

Yes.

Yes, Dazai really fucking did.

But Dazai couldn’t say that out loud, no matter how much he insanely wanted to, “This museum’s only got famous or rich people- Mori probably has dirt on every single one of them. If they did anything to me, he’d bite back at least twenty times harder; everyone in the industry knows that.”

If Mori was good for nothing else, at least his reputation made sure that Dazai was safe from fellow celebrities. That was a form of comfort that Dazai needed. There was a space that he knew that he couldn’t be hurt. Unfortunately though, it wasn’t his own room. Whatever.

“If you say so,” Chuuya refused to meet Dazai’s eyes as he took off his dirty, still wet jacket. Dazai handed over his nice trench coat and couldn’t help the smile that was making its way to his lips as Chuuya put it on. He gave the soiled jacket to Dazai to hold for a second while he put each arm through the coat sleeves and got his hair out from the jacket. It looked so big on him, it was adorable. “Look good?”

“Yeah,” Dazai breathed out. Good was the biggest understatement of the year. Scratch that- it was the biggest understatement of the entire century. The world even. But he can’t say that. “As much as you can for an ugly slug.”

It was almost like after he finally admitted the truth to Chuuya and himself about his sexuality, he finally allowed himself to recognize the real word for how he felt toward Chuuya. And that led to him saying weird, embarrassing things before he could stop himself. He needed to go back to teasing and annoying. That was what he was meant for- what he was good at. What got Chuuya to talk to him and befriend him.

Stick to what he knew.

“Asshole,” he nudged the brunette. “And here I was, thinking you were gonna be nice for a change.”

“I gave you my jacket!”

“Yeah, and I’ll give you a punch to the face if you keep talking,” Chuuya growled back. “And I can hold my own jacket.”

“Nah, this is my insurance- make sure I get mine back,” Dazai smiled. It definitely wasn’t because he liked holding something of Chuuya’s. Unfortunately, it smelled more like coffee than Chuuya himself, though- damn you, Sigma.

Chuuya just rolled his eyes at Dazai’s comment, “Fine. Your loss, carrying that jacket round for hours!”

But it really wasn’t.

By the time they’d visited every exhibit, barely anyone was still there. The museum closed at nine and it was dangerously nearing that time, but Dazai still dragged Chuuya to the souvenir section. There was literally everything there: t-shirts, hats, snow globes, playing cards, even more. Chuuya, unsurprisingly, ran immediately to the hats, staring at a blue one with the museum logo on the front. He put it on and pulled out his phone to see how it looked.

“Of course, the hatrack is looking for more hats,” Dazai sighed, taking the hat straight off Chuuya’s head and putting it on his own. “How do I look? Did I shrink twenty centimeters?”

“Oh, hush, asshole!” Chuuya kicked Dazai’s shin. “I just like the way hats look on me, what about it?”

“You’re just too easy to make fun of!” he smiled widely, leaning over to be face level with Chuuya. It promptly received him a punch to the stomach. “Why do you love hurting me so badly?”

“Why do you love being a dick so badly?” the redhead huffed back, stealing the hat back from Dazai. “I think I’m gonna buy- holy shit, nevermind.”

The second that Chuuya looked at the price tag, he put the hat back and walked away from it. “There’s no shot people actually buy this shit! Eight thousand yen for one hat is way too much.”

“I hate to remind you, but the people here blow at least a hundred thousand yen a day over the dumbest stuff,” Dazai hummed, trailing behind Chuuya on his search for an item. Even with only fifteen minutes until the museum closed, Chuuya continued to stare at the items intensely, dedicated to finding something that he wanted to buy. Odd. “Why do you wanna buy something so bad?”

“I’m gonna try to get stuff that reminds me of Yokohama to take back with me to France,” Chuuya explained, shaking the snowglobe, as if he had any interest in getting it. “Might as well start buying now.”

“Oh.”

It seemed like every time Dazai forgot, there was always something there to remind him. Chuuya was leaving in less than a year and there was nothing that Dazai could do about it. What was he supposed to do? Not let Chuuya go back to the home and family that he loved? If there was one thing that Dazai hated more than letting Chuuya go, it’d be making him stay.

“Should I just suck it up and buy the hat? The film’s gonna make me hella money anyway, so it’ll be fine, right?” he stepped over to the blue hat again and put it on. “Does it look alright? Is it worth it?”

And fuck, yes, Chuuya always looked good to the point that it was downright unfair. The blue perfectly brought out his eyes and made the shine in his face more apparent, which Dazai didn’t think was possible because Chuuya always shone. It also perfectly contrasted his red hair and brought a pop of color that Chuuya didn’t need, but still looked wonderful. If Chuuya could hear Dazai’s internal thoughts, he’d be proud of all the thought that went into the visual aesthetic of the hat.

“We can always come back,” is Dazai’s response. It’s the only thing he can respond when he’s too busy drooling over Chuuya’s unbridled beauty. He didn’t want Chuuya to regret spending so much over something. Then he realized again. “Or I can pay.”

“C’mon, man. You already paid for our tickets here, which also had to be at least eight thousand yen. I can buy myself something for once- I’m not totally broke, you know,” Chuuya sighed, putting the hat back. “I’ll get it if we come back, but you sure as hell aren’t gonna pay for it for me!”

“Alright, Chibiko. Whatever you say.”

Dazai smiled as they made their way out the doors of the museum with barely any time left to spare. Despite Dazai saying that they had dinner plans together, they really didn’t and Dazai didn’t want to be the one to ask this time. He didn’t know if Chuuya had been taking care of himself since a few days ago when he’d passed out, but he mentally hoped so. He trusted Chuuya to try to heal.

Chuuya smiled as he turned to walk toward his apartment. “Don’t kill yourself!”

“No promises!” Dazai called back as they parted ways, heading back to his stupid hotel room.

The past month at his hotel room had gotten better since the first day it was leaked. No one had broken in, though he did see many people crowd around the hotel at almost all times of the day. Part of him felt bad for the hotel workers at the front desk, who had to deal with the raging fans trying to get up to his room. But even though there were no break-ins, he was still terrified every night before falling asleep. On the bad nights, he had nightmares of what happened, feeling everything in such intense detail that he couldn’t breathe when he woke up. On the good nights, he was able to sleep for at least a few hours.

Tonight was a bad night.

When he’d gotten home, he realized that he accidentally took home Chuuya’s jacket, which meant that his was still with the redhead. That wasn’t a problem, but if Mori were to walk in, he’d definitely see an issue, so Dazai hid it under his bed with his whiskey and empty antidepressant bottle from last month. Then he took a shower and tried to scrub the day clean off of him. It took too much effort to shower, but he needed to or else his nightmares would get worse. If he felt unclean, the nightmares made sure he knew that he was dirty in every way possible.

And then there was the lack of sleep. It was already past midnight and he was still scrolling on his phone, trying to calm himself. There was no one there. No one was going to break into his hotel room and mess with his water. He turned to the water he’d just taken a drink out of and threw it away. Just in case.

As soon as he made his way back to bed, he heard a tap on the window.

Chapter Text

Everything fell off of Dazai’s desk.

Hearing the tap on the window after having such intense paranoia all night made Dazai immediately fall over with a cry, causing him to ram straight into his desk. Fuck. How did they figure out what hotel room he was in? He knew this was a possibility, but it hurt more seeing it in reality. Dazai repeated the word “No” over and over again, hoping that whoever was there would just leave. He didn’t care about his reputation anymore; he was terrified.

“Dazai?”

The voice was familiar. That much clicked in Dazai’s brain, but everything was so fuzzy in fear that he couldn’t pinpoint who it was. Without making an effort to move, he called back, “Who is it? What do you want?”

“It’s Chuuya,” he called back. It’s Chuuya? Dazai focused on the sound of the voice and nodded his head slowly. Shit, yeah, it was Chuuya’s voice. Okay. It was okay.

He slowly, shakily stood up and walked back toward the window, opening the curtain just so that he could peek out. It was Chuuya. Bright red hair. Ocean blue eyes. Good. Just checking.

Chuuya was sitting on a tree branch right outside of Dazai’s window, holding Dazai’s jacket in his arms. Did he climb that entire tree up to the third story while holding onto something? That was dedication.

Seeing Chuuya at all made Dazai’s breath steadier, his heart calmer. Everything felt a little more safe knowing that Chuuya was right there. Dazai opened up his window for Chuuya to sneak in, not really trusting how easy Chuuya made it look. Chuuya’s face when he turned to Dazai after getting in seemed entirely apologetic and concerned. No, Dazai didn’t want his pity.

“What’s up?” Dazai spoke quietly and shakily. He had to be quiet- Mori was just a wall away. He couldn’t get figured out after this month of happiness (Dazai didn’t think he could ever describe himself as happy before. Chuuya was changing him).

“I just came here to drop off your jacket,” Chuuya bit his lip, holding the trench coat out for Dazai to grab. He did. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“The reaction when I knocked on the window. That’s what happened last time I came over too,” he frowned, trying to search Dazai’s eyes for truth. Dazai refused to grant him that, forcing himself to look away. “Are you okay?”

When Chuuya reached out to touch Dazai, he immediately jerked his arm back, refusing to accept any touch. Every touch would be of her again. He was dirty. He needed to shower again. After a second, Dazai realized that he was asked a question. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Talk to me, Dazai.”

His voice was firm, yet gentle. But not in the same way that Mori was; there was no smirk that hid in his words, no subtle happiness in learning about Dazai’s fear. It was concerned. It was full of concern. Not even of pity; Chuuya sounded like he might genuinely care. Somewhere in Dazai’s still fuzzy brain, he wanted to tell Chuuya everything. To let him in. But as soon as he opened his mouth, a choked sob came out as everything fell into a blur. It was like he was back there, age fifteen again. When he felt a hand against his back, he cried harder, but he couldn’t get himself to move. He couldn’t force her off.

No.

It wasn’t her- it was just Chuuya. Chuuya, who never pushed Dazai’s boundaries. Chuuya, who always found some way to make Dazai laugh. Chuuya, who held Dazai and told him that he wasn’t broken.

“Chuuya,” Dazai croaked, the only word that he could say as tears kept falling down his face, one after another. He held it in for so long. He didn’t cry to Ango or Odasaku about it again after that first time for fear of burdening them. They would offer to let Dazai stay with them, and Dazai knew how poorly that would go. Akiko didn’t even know about what happened to him, so he never cried to her about it either. She only saw the aftermath of all the trauma. So for the last month, every nightmare, every fear that he had went unspoken. He just made himself get over it.

But now that Chuuya was here, tapping on his window and touching him, the tears just fell one after another. Chuuya guided Dazai to sit on the bed, but the second he made contact with it, Dazai pushed himself off. He can’t go back on the bed- can’t be pushed into the mattress while he yelled at himself to get up, but his limbs didn’t move. He couldn’t go through that again.

“No!” he cried, shaking his head, falling to the floor and backing away until he hit the wall. He just put his head in his knees, praying that everything would go away. He was being so over dramatic over nothing.

“Dazai?” Chuuya’s voice called over the fuzz in Dazai’s brain. “What can I do to help you?”

“You can’t!” Dazai yelled into his knees, refusing to look up anymore. If he looked up, he’d realize that Chuuya wasn’t really there and that she was instead and then he’d be left defenseless once again. Was it too late? The water from earlier tasted normal. Please… it had to be normal, right? Why was she here? Did she find him again? Why can’t she just leave him alone? “Get away! Haven’t you hurt me enough?”

“What did I-”

Why was it still Chuuya’s voice? Why was she playing pretend? Or maybe she really didn’t know that she’d hurt him. Dazai couldn’t afford to feel sorry right now. Not when his entire brain was yelling at him to get out. She needed to get out.

Dazai couldn’t tell if she stopped talking or if his sobs just got louder and completely drowned her out. Either way, the taunt of Chuuya’s voice was gone and that made Dazai feel both more and less comfortable at the same time. He wanted Chuuya here. The real Chuuya. He wanted the real Chuuya to be here with him and make stupid jokes and hit him when he was being annoying and yell at him and- huh?

Something wrapped around Dazai. A blanket?

Dazai looked up hesitantly, too confused for his sobs to continue escaping his lips. His favorite blanket had been draped around him and Chuuya was sitting just a few feet away from him. He blinked a few times, tears falling down with each blink. Was Chuuya real?

Tears still slipping from his eyes one by one, he crawled over and touched Chuuya’s leg. Chuuya just stared at him questioningly. He was real. Dazai could feel him. It wasn’t her. A small, shaky smile on Dazai’s lips, he fell into Chuuya’s chest, wrapping his arms around the redhead as he continued to cry. Tears of pure relief started falling over and over. He was so happy. Chuuya was here. He was real.

Chuuya slowly moved his hands to Dazai’s back, holding him there while he cried. At some point a hand went up to his hair and scratched at his head, dragging fingers through his hair. It wasn’t anything like how she touched him. It was comforting and soft and gentle and… Chuuya. It was Chuuya.

The safety that Chuuya guaranteed allowed Dazai to calm down quicker than he would’ve by himself. If he was alone, he might’ve relapsed and gone straight for his razor again. Part of him wished he had, but Chuuya’s comforting hand made those angry thoughts go away. By the time Dazai had stopped sobbing, he pulled himself off Chuuya, wiping his tears. He hadn’t meant to break down like that in front of him.

After a moment, Chuuya staring at Dazai and Dazai looking anywhere other than the boy in front of him, Dazai finally let himself speak.

“You weren’t meant to see me like that,” Dazai whispered. It was the closest he could get to apologizing. Chuuya understood though- somehow he always understood.

“It’s okay, Dazai. You’re allowed to panic.”

“It isn’t normally that bad,” he admitted, frowning as he looked in Chuuya’s eyes. They were so calming. “I was just caught off guard.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“She drugged me,” Dazai rasped out, tears already making their way back down his face. He didn’t mean to talk about it; he already put Chuuya through enough that night. But it seemed like his mouth was just talking without his brain complying. “She hid in my hotel room and she drugged me.”

“Who?” Chuuya rubbed Dazai’s shoulder comfortingly- Dazai hadn’t even realized that Chuuya was still touching him. He decided to take a seat against the bed next to Chuuya.

“I don’t know,” he shook his head aimlessly. “She took off my clothes- pulled them off- and… she was my first time.”

Everything about that night was such a blur. Almost immediately after taking a sip, nothing looked solid anymore. Colors flashed all over his room and his vision was absolutely fucked; he couldn’t even remember what she looked like. He remembered being pushed onto his bed by soft, firm hands and his clothes coming off piece by piece, roughly tearing against his body. The hands made their way to his hair and she laughed. She let out a giggle that could only be described as harsh on his ears. “Your hair is so nice and fluffy!”

And then she tugged at it. Hard. Dazai wanted to scream at her- everything ached. He was only fifteen. When he was young, he was a romantic; he wanted to have a nice girlfriend who he could be with when he was ready. That was stolen from him. But it was his fault; as much as he tried to say no, all that came out were groans, which only encouraged her. She put his hands around her pink lace underwear, as if that would turn him on. It really didn’t. But he couldn’t move them off. All he could do was comply, his mind too fucked to do anything else.

He felt too dirty that night.

The romantic dream in him completely disappeared when he realized that he would never get that as an actor. That was when he started going out and hooking up with a new girl every night. It was his way of taking back his body and being in control, but nothing ever washed her off of him enough to make it matter. He was still just as dirty and disgusting.

“She raped you?” Chuuya looked disgusted. Dazai knew that he was disgusting, so he couldn’t even blame the redhead. It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt though.

“No,” Dazai shook his head, not wanting Chuuya to get the wrong idea. “I didn’t say no.”

“You were drugged?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And you didn’t want it?”

“I was fifteen, of course, I didn’t want it,” Dazai huffed, trying to get rid of the tears that were still falling. They just kept coming.

“You were fifteen?” his voice raised and Dazai flinched at the harsh sound. Chuuya immediately softened, “Dazai, I’m so sorry that happened to you. Holy shit. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“I told you, I didn’t say no. I’m just overreacting,” he turned his head away from Chuuya, not wanting to see his reaction. “I’ve just been unreasonably paranoid since the hotel got leaked.”

“The hotel got leaked?” Chuuya sounded absolutely shocked. Was this new information to him? “That’s sure as hell not unreasonable. Dazai, You’re so…”

“I know that I’m disgusting,” Dazai snapped, not wanting Chuuya to say it. Saying it out loud would just make Dazai more alone. But maybe he deserved it (for once, though, he didn’t want it. Maybe that was healing in itself).

“I was going to say that you’re so strong. Brave.” Despite neither of them looking at each other or touching, there was still that feeling floating in the air. Almost like a hug. “You deserve so much better than all that.”

“Do I?”

Dazai hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the words escaped his lips before he could even think about stopping them. He grabbed at his blanket, needing more comfort. Feeling the soft fabric in his hands always managed to calm him down, at least a little bit.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Chuuya scoffed, but it didn’t sound annoyed. It was weird how Chuuya could manage to be so calming despite his harshness. “I knew you were an idiot, but thinking that you deserved all that? Probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”

Chuuya hesitantly scooted closer to Dazai, arms touching at this point. When Dazai didn’t flinch, Chuuya took that as a sign that it was okay still. “Dazai, can you look at me?”

He did.

The ocean was in Chuuya’s eyes, Dazai swore. It looked like tears had fallen from Chuuya’s eyes too, the stains covering his cheeks. His freckles were on full display, right in front of Dazai; that was its own comfort in a way. Something about Chuuya’s very presence made Dazai feel better, nonetheless to look at his face. He felt awful for making Chuuya cry, but the sea in Chuuya’s eyes made Dazai feel like he was at home. Not that Dazai ever had a home.

“You were a child. You should’ve been protected and cared for,” Chuuya’s voice was firm, like there was no room for debating with him. “I wish that I could find that woman and punch the shit out of her right now, but for now, I can’t. I hope that being here at least helps half as much.”

Dazai smiled at that. It was so Chuuya. “I dunno. Having a slug ruin my nice hotel room isn’t exactly ideal…”

“Oh, shut up!” he laughed, lightly hitting Dazai’s shoulder. Dazai didn’t flinch. It was Chuuya, that much was clear to him now. Chuuya, who despite his constant kicking and punching would never actually hurt Dazai. “The one time I try to be nice to you!”

“You were trying to be nice?” Dazai feigned shock, jaw dropped at his claim. “I thought you were being a meanie, like normal!”

“I’m only mean when you deserve it!”

“I don’t always deserve it!” he gasped, furrowing his eyebrows in mock-upsetness. “How dare you insinuate that?”

“Ay, if the shoe fits!” Chuuya shrugged happily. It was baffling to Dazai how they always managed to fall into this perfect rhythm together. After two months together, it was as if they’d known each other for their entire lives.

The way they teased was as if they never even had the serious conversation; as if Chuuya didn’t see up close how much of a broken mess Dazai was. Chuuya should’ve ran off immediately, deciding that Dazai was too much work for him to take care of. But he didn’t. He stayed and talked to Dazai as if it changed nothing about him. Why had he done that? They continued to talk on the floor until Dazai said that he needed to wipe his face off.

Once they’d stood up, Chuuya noticed the mess near Dazai’s desk- all of the small trinkets and supplies that had fallen to the floor. “Do you want me to clean this up while you wash your face?”

“Are you saying my face is dirty?” Dazai gasped in mock-offense.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to wash your face, jackass.” Chuuya scoffed, heading over to the items and picking them up. “What happened to these after I woke up that one morning? I swear they were there before, but they just vanished after I woke up.”

“I just put them away, idiot,” he called from the bathroom, leaving the door open so they wouldn’t have to yell. Mori was still just a room over.

“Why?” Chuuya examined one of them closely. “They’re cute.”

“Didn’t want my dog sticking his nose in things that aren’t his,” Dazai stuck his tongue out as he walked back to the main room. It was the truth, but the teasing manner that he said it with didn’t make Chuuya anxious.

“Oh, hush! We both know that you’re the dog here!” he huffed, walking over to Dazai’s bed and falling on it. The mess had been totally cleaned up and nothing broke. Dazai internally let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t like he needed to worry too much though; his real treasure was still stuck with Mori. Part of him accepted that he’d never get the snow globe back.

“As if! I hate dogs!”

When Dazai laid on the bed next to Chuuya, the redhead looked over at him in pure disbelief, “How the fuck dare you?”

“They’re mean! The last one that I saw bit me really hard.”

“You probably deserved it.”

“I thought we were friends,” Dazai pouted, looking over at Chuuya with pleading eyes.

“I’m a friend of dogs before I’m a friend of yours,” Chuuya put a hand to his chest, as if making an honorable pledge of some sort. Loser.

“I'm starting to think you don’t have any friends, Chibi,” he shrugged. “Is that why you spend so much time with an asshole such as moi?”

“Nah, I spend time with you because it gives me an excuse to beat you up everyday.”

“As expected of my most loyal hater!”

They continued their banter, staring up at the ceiling because that was easier than looking into the others’ eyes. It was a taunting reminder that Dazai would give anything for the man beside him. But being beside him made Dazai feel like they were miles away, despite laying right next to each other. The closer they were, the further apart they felt. Why couldn’t Dazai just control the weird fluttering in his stomach?

After it’d gotten later, Dazai frowned and interrupted the light silence that they’d gotten themselves into, “How are you even getting down?”

“The same way I got up?” Chuuya questioned. “I’ll just climb back down the tree. No big deal.”

“How the fuck is that even possible?” he sighed, shaking his head.

“Maybe I’m just better than you.”

“Nope, I was actually just lying- I can actually climb trees super well. Better than you, for sure,” Dazai hummed with a smile.

“Liar.”

A hit to Dazai’s side.

Silence again.

“Am I crazy or was your desk more full last time I came over?” Chuuya asked, as if it’d been on his mind for a while. “I swear I didn’t have room to put my stuff down.”

“Mori took my snow globe,” Dazai admitted, letting out a tired sigh. He missed the snow globe more than anything; it was his biggest comfort over the years. And now he just had to trust that Mori had yet to smash it into millions of pieces. Not that Mori would without good reason.

“Why’d he take something as random as that?”

“My mom gave it to me.”

Chuuya, for the first time since laying down, turned his head over to face Dazai. “You’ve never told me about her. What’s she like?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he shrugged, still refusing to grant himself the comfort and pain that he’d receive from looking at Chuuya. “I haven’t seen her in eighteen years.”

The snowglobe was the last sign of care that he’d be given from his parents. Not that his dad ever really gave a shit about him, but his mom tried so hard to give him a good life. It was a symbol of love, even if she wasn’t there with him through it all. No, it was a symbol of love because she couldn’t be there with him. ‘I love you, even if you’re gone,’ it said.

“Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. I just remember that she was against me going. Told me that Mori wasn’t someone that she trusted and that I should just go to school and become a lawyer. I should’ve listened.”

There was no response and for a second, Dazai was scared that he made Chuuya uncomfortable. But the air was too comforting. It made Dazai want to say more, even though he knew he shouldn’t.

“I don’t want to be an actor.”

“Then don’t be.” Chuuya spoke, as if it were that simple. As if anything in life were that simple.

But for some reason, that simplicity was exactly what Dazai needed at that moment. He needed to pretend, even if just for a second, that he could be a normal person, finally going to work after he’d just finished his last year of college. He would’ve been done with college by now, had he gone there. That made his heart clench in a way he didn’t know it still could.

He could’ve gone through high school, had his bi-awakening there so that he wouldn’t have to still feel broken about it in his twenties. There would’ve been no Mori there to tell him beautiful lies and then throw him into the open battlefield. No girl in his hotel room, ready to jump on him and pleasure herself at his expense. No crazy fans who crowd around him at every moment of every day, doing anything just for a second of his attention.

Dazai yearned for a life he knew he could never have. It was too late to go back and change now. The closest he could get to that fantasy was staring at the snow globe and thinking about the parent who might’ve loved him. But it’d been eighteen years; she probably didn’t give a shit about him anymore and barely even recognized him on her television screen. But at least he could pretend. He could pretend that he had a house- no, a home- to go back to every night with his loving mother and father. He could pretend that he was never hurt, that he never tried to kill himself. He could pretend everything was normal. He could pretend he was normal.

“What would I have done in college?” Dazai couldn’t help but ask, wanting to indulge in the beautiful fantasy. Just for one night.

“Well, there’s a few ways I could think about your major,” Chuuya hummed. “You could be in marketing or business, just because those are really common and you’d fit in with those assholes. Maybe this is biased over Shuji, but you seem like you’d major in literature. But personally, I don’t think that college suits you all that much.”

“Hm?”

“Yeah. I think you’d get bored quickly- you seem like the type to be too smart to try in any of your classes.”

“Is my Chibi calling me smart?” Dazai smiled with a gasp.

“No, asshole- I’m calling you lazy!” he hit Dazai’s side. “I just can’t see you sitting down in a classroom all day and thriving. You’d be way happier getting a job straight out of high school.”

Dazai, for the first time in hours, turned to look Chuuya in the eyes, asking him a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to. “Would we have met in that universe?”

Chuuya’s eyes were everything to Dazai. Shining so brightly with intense hope- that’s what filled his eyes constantly: pure, unbridled hope- that Dazai couldn’t help but be hopeful too. He didn’t even know what he was hoping for, he just followed Chuuya. The twinkle in his eye answered Dazai’s question perfectly, and the smile on Dazai’s face couldn’t be erased ever again. There was something so blissful about the man in front of him. Even though Dazai knew exactly what Chuuya would say, hearing the words out loud made him feel impossibly better. Chuuya’s voice was soft, calming, firm. It was so convincing too- as if Chuuya believed what he said with his whole heart. There was no room for self-pity, no room for doubt.

“I think I’d find you in any world.”

Chapter Text

No longer filming provided a lot of time for Chuuya.

A week after the kiss scene, they had finished the entire film, leaving the rest to the directors and editors to create the complete movie. He heard that the writer of the book was going to be making sure everything was nicely in place too, which only made him more nervous and excited. The trailers were set to come out in late September, which would gain more than enough attention by the time the movie itself came out. It was all rather fast-paced, but Sakaguchi didn’t seem too concerned about it, so Chuuya wouldn’t be either.

Chuuya got a part time job working at a cafe, since he needed some form of income while he was living there with Tachihara. It wasn’t like he could pay rent all by himself, especially with the awful job that he barely had time for between his classes. The cafe wasn’t all too bad, thankfully. Since it was a college town, most people were polite, so days passed without Chuuya losing his temper at anybody. It was a slow job in a nice city, so his only real complaint was that the guy he worked with was hella weird.

“Quiz time! What did he buy me for our one year anniversary?” the coworker smiled widely as he made coffee for some customer who’d taken a seat at a far corner. He was hardly looking at the machine, instead at Chuuya, who was already tired of this guy’s nonstop talking. But it would be an asshole move if Chuuya wiped the smile off of his face, so he complied.

“Did he get you chocolates?” Chuuya hummed. Nikolai, his coworker, always had a weird quirk of saying ‘quiz time’ before asking a question. He never said the answers before, so it wasn’t even a test on whether or not Chuuya was paying attention, Nikolai just liked hearing the guesses.

“Nope!” his smile was increasingly wider, almost reminding Chuuya of a clown. He put the lid on the coffee cup and spoke before walking away. “He bought me an island!”

“He bought you a what?” Chuuya, who wasn’t even looking at Nikolai before, turned over to him with his jaw dropped. Who the hell would buy an island for someone after dating them for only one year? Rich people were fucking crazy.

Once Nikolai had made it back over, he just stood next to the redhead, leaning against the counter. “It was nice too! Pretty trees, soft sand, lots of privacy if you wanna murder someone-”

“What are your qualifications for a nice island?” his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

“Well, I was just listing them off to you, if you were paying attention,” Nikolai pouted. His overexaggerated motions were almost a worse version of-

“Hello, my precious Chibi!”

Speak of the devil.

The other awful part of his job was that despite Dazai not actually liking coffee or tea (or anything they offered at the cafe) all that much, he still managed to come every single day as an excuse to see Chuuya. It was a small enough shop and Dazai always wore his mask (and normally a hat), so no one had recognized him. And if they had, it would’ve meant nothing, seeing as he was a person who could drink coffee whenever the fuck he wanted to.

“That’s my cue to go to the back and pretend not to be on my phone!” the blonde smiled as he walked away. After the first day Dazai showed up, Nikolai made a point to avoid Dazai- likely because of how harsh Dazai was when he tried to serve him. Dazai kept demanding that Chuuya had to make his coffee and that he wouldn’t let Nikolai touch any of his drinks. Which was honestly fair, once Chuuya thought of it in context to the trauma he’d gone through.

“What do you want, asshole?” Chuuya grumbled as he walked up to the register, ready to input whatever random drink Dazai would order this time. He had a habit of ordering different complex combinations every time. Of course, they all sucked and he never got them again, but he still liked making Chuuya’s job as hard as possible.

“Can I get…” Dazai stared at the menu for a second. “A short, angry Chibi with ten pumps of abuse?”

“I don’t abuse you!” he huffed. “And I’m not short or angry. Now order something real or get your ass outta here.”

Dazai laughed. God, Chuuya hated how much he liked Dazai’s laugh; it only made him want to punch the younger in the face more. “Fine, fine. I’ll get an small iced americano with five pumps of lavender and two pumps of raspberry with chocolate cold foam and add whipped cream with a caramel drizzle on top.”

His cheeky smile (that Chuuya couldn’t see, but he knew it was there) made Chuuya want to jump over the counter and absolutely punch him, but instead, he gave a passive aggressive smile back and said, “Will that be all, sir?”

“Sir?” Dazai grabbed at his heart and stumbled back. “How dare you?”

“Overdramatic idiot,” he laughed, unable to pretend to be passive aggressive anymore. “Your total’s gonna be seven dollars and eighty-three cents.”

“No discount?” As if he didn’t ask every time and wasn’t always told the exact same answer. Chuuya just rolled his eyes.

“Pay before I crack your skull open.”

“So violent!” Dazai put his credit card into the machine and took it out shortly after, stuffing it in his wallet. “Your boss will be hearing about this!”

“My boss will also be hearing about your murder case on the internet if you don’t scram and take a seat while I make your damn coffee.”

Maybe Chuuya realizing his feelings made him more aggressive towards Dazai after the initial shock. It was already mid-September and he came to terms with the fact that he was dreaming of something that wasn’t meant to be. Even if Dazai was bi, it wasn’t like Chuuya had a chance. Even worse, if Chuuya did, he would be flying to Paris so soon that the time with him would be little to none. So all of his feelings were let out by means of anger, which wasn’t anything new for the pair. Though perhaps it was getting more and more aggressive as time went on, not that Dazai seemed to mind at all.

Chuuya made the disgusting drink with an added aggression in his hands. Why were feelings so damn difficult to deal with? As if it weren’t awful enough before, after the night he snuck into Dazai’s hotel room, his affection toward Dazai increased exponentially. There was something so soft about that night, knowing that they could be vulnerable with each other and still joke and tease. He felt like they were already some kind of book couple. If they met in every universe, was there at least one where they could be together? One where they lived happily without the tragedies they’d gone through and didn’t fear the thought of being together.

“Trouble in paradise?” Nikolai returned from the back, putting his phone in his back pocket and completely scaring Chuuya.

When he jumped, some of the coffee spilled out and Chuuya let out a groan of frustration, grabbing the towel and wiping up what spilled, “Gimme some warning next time, will ya?”

“Nope!” he smiled, sitting on the counter- which was definitely not allowed. “Your boy toy comes in here every day and orders some random ass drink that we all know won’t taste good. Just do the world a favor and ask him out!”

“He’s sitting right there, idiot- he can hear you,” Chuuya whispered back harshly. “And he’s not my boy toy. He’s his own damn person, so do the world a favor and shut the hell up.”

With that, Chuuya brought the drink over to Dazai, putting it down on his table with the straw.

“Ah, my dog is so quick,” Dazai looked up from his phone. Chuuya sat down in the seat across from him already- a routine they’d fallen into over the course of the weeks. It wasn’t like there were more than six people in the cafe and Nikolai was there behind the counter incase anyone needed anything. “What are today’s predictions? Will this finally be the drink of my dreams?”

“If your dreams are nightmares, then maybe,” Chuuya laughed as Dazai put the straw into the cup, pulled down his mask, and took a bold sip.

And then immediately started coughing.

“That bad?” he raised his eyebrows. Normally Dazai could give the drink a few sips, even if he ultimately threw it away. “Gimme.”

Dazai slid it over to Chuuya, wiping the excess drink off the sides of his lips. It felt taunting, even if Chuuya knew that it wasn’t meant to be. “It tastes like your gross, fancy wine- worse than your fancy wine.”

As Chuuya took a sip (off the same straw, but that was normal for them by now), he was immediately disgusted. Both by the awful drink and how someone dare compare this to his nice wine. “I can’t wait for the day that you stop wasting money on this atrocious mistakes of humankind.”

“You’re the one who goes around buying hundreds of thousands of yen’s worth of wine!”

“Not daily! Plus everything is cheaper if you steal it,” he took another sip of the drink, already forgetting how horrible it was. “Why the fuck did I keep drinking?”

“Because you secretly like it because it does taste like your wine!” Dazai accused with a bright smile. He hadn’t bothered to pull his mask back up, but it really didn’t matter at this point. If one of the very limited amount of people knew about Dazai, they would’ve already recognized him by now. “He admits it!”

“I didn’t admit shit!”

He plugged his eyes and closed his eyes like a little child, “La la la la! I can’t hear you! La la-”

“You fucking-”

Chuuya and Dazai’s loud bickering was cut off by the door opening once more, this time two people walking in, both immediately looking at Dazai who was still making noise so he didn’t hear Chuuya. The one that Chuuya recognized- Sakaguchi- put a hand to his head as if he were a tired father.

“Dazai,” the other tapped Dazai’s shoulder lightly, face entirely blank. Scary. Who was this creepy old dude with Sakaguchi?

But the second that Dazai turned around and absolutely lit up, Chuuya decided that this guy couldn’t be a bad person by any means. Immediately he took his hands off his ears and stood up to hug him. “Odasaku!”

“You’re Odasaku?” Chuuya stood up and bowed to greet the man he’d heard both so much about and yet very little. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“No need for formalities,” he waved his arm dismissively. “You’re Nakahara Chuuya, right? The kid with anger issues?”

“I don’t have-!” the redhead started to yell, but realized that it was just proving the point. “Yeah, I’m Chuuya. Just call me Chuuya though, Nakahara’s way too formal for me.”

“You didn’t tell me I could call you Chuuya,” Sakaguchi pouted from beside Odasaku.

“Well yeah, Sakaguchi, you’re my boss.”

“Not anymore, technically,” he smiled. “And you can call me Ango now that there isn’t really business between us anymore.”

“You can call me Chuuya,” Chuuya nodded, also smiling lightly. Then he realized that the two were at the cafe supposedly for Dazai, seeing as how they came right to him and were standing so close. “I didn’t realize you were close with Dazai.”

“I mean, we practically raised him since he was thirteen,” Ango shrugged. “Oda met him at a bar and brought him back to our place.”

“Wait- is your name Oda or Odasaku?”

“Oda Sakunosuke,” the man responded, still monotone. Yeah, he was still scary; nothing like how Chuuya imagined the man that Dazai’d spoken about for so long. Chuuya was supposed to believe that he had a happy personality? “Dazai just calls me Odasaku. I don’t mind.”

“Your name sounds awfully familiar,” Chuuya frowned, trying to think about where he’d heard the full name before. Dazai never called him anything other than Odasaku and as far as he remembered, Ango never spoke about him before at all.

“Well, I surely hope so if you’re playing the main character in his book.”

“Huh?” his jaw dropped at Ango’s words, never making that connection until just that moment. He turned to Oda- the Oda Sakunosuke- and just stared for a second, unable to do anything else. Then he bowed again. “I’m so sorry! You’re a wonderful author and inspiration and I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you or your name and-”

“No worries, kid,” the older man patted Chuuya on the shoulder gently. “Dazai never told me you were so polite.”

“Because he’s always mean to me!” Dazai pouted, still clinging onto Oda’s arm. Was Oda not actually as old as he looked? Maybe he was actually just a little older than them and he was actually the reason that Dazai… Oh, that made sense. Especially with the way that Dazai’s eyes lit up upon seeing him and the way that he just couldn’t let go of him. Chuuya swallowed his saliva with a nervous gulp, not even knowing what to say anymore.

Instead of responding to Dazai, in his now mentally-tired state, he just started walking behind the counter where Nikolai was still on his phone, “While you two are here, did you want to order anything?”

“Now he’s ignoring me!” the brunette frowned, dragging Oda’s arm as he walked over to the counter and leaned on it. “I told you he was mean to me!”

“Dazai, have you ever considered that it’s because you deserve it?” Ango flicked his forehead as he spoke, then turned to look at Chuuya. “Can I just have a medium vanilla latte?”

“Someone gets it!” Chuuya smiled at his former boss, ringing up a medium latte in the register. “Is that all for you?”

“Oh, no. My husband and I are paying together.”

Oh.

They’re married. Good to know.

So Dazai wasn’t into Oda- also very good to know. Very very good to know. If Chuuya’s smile got a little bit wider as he nodded understandingly, no one pointed it out, “Cool.” He then turned to Oda, “What would you like to drink then?”

“I’ll have the same.”

Oda still had his blank face and monotone expression, which honestly provided Chuuya with a little bit of fear. Ango and Dazai were both acting super normal around him though, so maybe this was how he normally was? Or did he just not like Chuuya? For some reason, Chuuya wanted Oda to like him. (Almost like they were Dazai’s parents, but that was a ridiculous thought. Why would Chuuya even want Dazai’s parents to like him? They weren’t even dating or anything.)

“Nikolai, get off your ass and make a latte,” Chuuya called, grabbing a cup from beside him and handing it over to his coworker, who responded with an annoyed groan. “Your guys’ total is eight dollars and fifty seven cents.”

“Why is their total barely more than mine when I ordered a small drink?” Dazai put a hand to his chest as if he’d been betrayed.

“They didn’t order a million add-ons, dumbass,” the redhead scoffed, grabbing another cup and getting started on the other latte. “Maybe this is a sign that you should actually order decent coffee.”

“No such thing as decent coffee!”

“No bothering the employees while they’re working!” Chuuya hummed as he continued the latte. Not that he really wanted Dazai to go away, but he also did. You know? “Unless you wanna give me a hella tip!”

“Give me a tip too! I deserve it for having to listen to this disgusting flirting!” Nikolai jumped in happily as he placed the first latte on the counter for Ango to grab.

Oda and Ango made eye contact in almost a knowing way- did they know that Chuuya was down bad for Dazai already? Was he really that obvious? Should he stop? Oh my goodness, this was extremely embarrassing.

“We aren’t flirting! I hate him!” Chuuya kicked Nikolai’s shin, pretending that his face wasn’t bright red at the older’s remark.

“Aw, Chibi! How romantic!” Dazai clapped. “I hate you too!”

“Shut the hell up before I rip your vocal chords out one by one,” he grumbled, placing the other coffee down. “We’re not flirting. As if I would ever want to date a fucking mackerel like him.”

Another moment of eye contact. What the fuck? Chuuya just stood there, knowing his face was furiously red and that there was absolutely nothing he could say that wouldn’t make him sound like he was into Dazai. (Because he was, but that’s beside the point.)

“Don’t flatter yourself, slug. I only plan on dating a beautiful woman willing to commit double suicide with me,” Dazai hummed back, grabbing Oda’s drink and taking a sip out of it. “Ew.”

“It’s a vanilla latte. You don’t like vanilla or lattes,” Oda pointed out, taking back his drink.

“I love vanilla lattes!” the brunette smiled fakely. Chuuya rolled his eyes at the lie, but kept staring at Dazai at his happily lit eyes. He looked so happy with them.

“Oh, really?” he handed the drink toward Dazai, “You can have some of mine.”

Huh?

“Chuuya, the trailers are set to come out tomorrow- you excited for your first moments of stardom?” Ango asked, breaking Chuuya away from what was happening with Oda and Dazai.

“Oh- uh- yeah. I mean, I haven’t really given it a lot of thought,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Then he realized that that sounded a little like he didn’t care about something as big as that, so he quickly added, “Not that I’m not super hyped about it! I just have been kinda focused on other stuff and interviews won’t start for another week or so, so it’s just not at the front of my mind, but don’t think that this movie isn’t a big deal to me- I swear it is! I just-”

“It’s alright,” the man laughed comfortingly. “I get what you mean. Don’t stress.”

“I’m not!” Chuuya shook his head a little too aggressively. After a second, he spoke again, “Interviews… aren’t that bad, are they?”

“Fans will love you, Chuuya.” Ango waved off.

“Not as much as I love him though!” Dazai blew a kiss from where he was, suddenly tuning into the conversation. “We gotta let the fans know that you’re my dog- they can’t run off and claim you!”

“Possessive much?” Chuuya scoffed, pretending that his heart wasn’t jumping at his words.

“My dog can’t be running around with other humans when I’ve taken such great care of it for so long,” he pouted. “I thought dogs were supposed to be loyal and cute! Why’s mine so mean and ugly?”

“You’ll be ugly by the time I’m done with you,” he growled back in a failed attempt of being intimidating. Dazai knew better than to be truly intimidated by Chuuya now- he already learned that Chuuya was just a major softie. (Not that Chuuya was a major softie. He’s very scary, okay?)

“Oh my! Take me on a date first!” the brunette put a hand to his face as if he were gasping. Dazai was insufferable.

“I can’t stand gay people,” Nikolai sighed from over where he had taken a seat. Chuuya would’ve yelled at him for sitting on the job, but Chuuya had just done the same a few minutes ago.

“You’re gay, idiot.”

“Yeah, but Fedya bought me an island. You two are just annoying.”

“Says you?” Chuuya rolled his eyes at his coworker. “And for the last time, we aren’t even dating.”

“The press a few months ago said otherwise!”

“Okay, maybe let’s not talk about that whole incident,” Ango spoke up gently. “They passed by quickly enough and everyone already forgot about it.”

“They’ll surely remember it after they see Chuuya and Dazai together as the leads in the show,” Nikolai smiled, completely ignoring the way that Chuuya’s face dropped at his words. “I mean- people are gonna definitely bring it up again now that Chuuya’s a mega star and fans go wild over this kinda stuff! Especially since someone’s ‘girlfriend’ happened to be working with them. Gosh! Imagine the tension in the interviews!”

“Seriously, there’s no need to worry them more than they need to be,” Ango said firmly, looking at Nikolai with a threatening face.

“Isn’t it good that I speak up? You know, I’m sure Chuuya wasn’t thinking about all that and now he’ll be mentally prepared for all of the hate! It’s gonna be twenty times worse than-”

“He told you to stop talking.”

And despite the shivers that ran down Chuuya’s back as Oda spoke, he was grateful for his scariness in that moment. It had to have intimidated Nikolai to some extent, because immediately after he sighed, “Fine, fine. I’m just saying the truth though!”

“As you know all that, I’m sure you also know that Mori Ougai can ruin your entire life within seconds at my command,” Dazai finally spoke up, staring at Nikolai harshly. “Not to mention the damage that your cute, little Fedya will have to go through. If you speak to Chuuya like that ever again, he’ll have your head.”

“Cute,” Nikolai hummed, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll think about it.”

Even with his friends- were they all his friends now?- helping him by shutting Nikolai up, he still knew that Nikolai was right. No matter how much Chuuya wanted to deny it, there would be millions more hate comments like he got around the time of the dating rumors. And those rumors would be brought up again and people are going to be on Yosano’s ‘side’ even if there aren’t really any sides here. That would mean more hate for Chuuya and worse comments about his body and worse comments about his hair and face and personality and-

“Chuuya.”

Right, he was still at work. He was still at the cafe with Dazai and everything was okay. Dazai’s voice grounded Chuuya, “If anyone says any shit about you, they’re done for, okay? I’ll make sure of it.”

“Yeah. I’m not even worried,” he lied, knowing that Dazai could see right through him. “I can handle a few assholes on the internet. I already deal with you.”

“I’ve just been preparing you, you know? Aren’t I so nice, letting my puppy have experience before committing to true stardom?” Dazai joked back, smiling at him. Everything was gonna be okay.

“Well, if it’s anything like you, I want the hell out,” he pushed Dazai’s face away from him lightly. “Now go sit the fuck down, I’m still supposed to be working.”

“There’s literally no one here!”

“You’re causing a damn disturbance for the people who are here.” As if there were more than two people who both had headphones on. Still, public disturbance. Chuuya still needed this job.

“Fine!” Dazai whined, walking over to the seat, Ango and Oda following behind shortly after. They all laughed together, truly looking like a family when they were sat like that, talking so happily. Chuuya smiled at them in his daydream, suddenly missing his dads. He needed to call them again. Before everything turned to shit tomorrow.

Chuuya pretended the rest of the day wasn’t filled with anxiety.

Chapter Text

Dazai smiled when he looked at the comments.

The trailer turned out beautifully, perfectly showing off all of Chuuya’s absolute brightness. Every moment of it was put together emotionally and thoughtfully- by an editor’s point of view, it was amazing. And by Dazai’s totally not into Chuuya point of view, it was indescribable.

Most of the comments were talking about how excited they were for the movie or how they were excited to see Dazai in an LGBTQ+ role, considering he’d never played a gay character before. After scrolling further down, many people were gawking over how fine Chuuya was and how hyped they were for such a hot couple (and also about the insane chemistry between the two leads. There were many comments about that.) Unfortunately, the smile slowly faded when he saw the hate.

At this point, he couldn’t even care a little bit about how people thought of him- he knew that people would hate him for no reason, and if he hated himself as much, there was no big problem with that. They weren’t blinded by the flirtatious smirks and smooth talk that Dazai used in every interview and how could Dazai blame them for that? The issue was that most of the hate had been targeted at Chuuya.

How could people even think that Dazai would make a better Kensuke than Chuuya had? Not only was Chuuya an outstanding actor who did fucking incredible considering it was his first major role, but Dazai could never portray emotion in the way Chuuya did. Chuuya was the epitome of humanity and passion- no one could do a better job at Kensuke. And looked almost exactly how the book described (he was just a lot shorter and a lot hotter. Chuuya was really too attractive for his own good.)

Once he got passed the comments on Chuuya’s “awful” acting and his “ugly” face, there was the thing that everyone feared since Nikolai brought it up. It wasn’t that Dazai wasn’t expecting it- he’d been in the business so long that he knew that it was going to happen. He just saw the look of anxiety on Chuuya’s face and suddenly that made it so much worse. What would prevent people from talking about it? What was there to do at this point?

It brought up poor memories for both of them and opened up new hate as well. And even though those comments weren’t too many, especially among the crowd of fans, he knew that Chuuya would take them to heart. (He cared about everything too much. Even things that didn’t deserve to be cared for, like Dazai.) So before he got to looking through too much and overthinking everything, Dazai called Chuuya.

“Hello, my precious love!” Dazai smiled as soon as Chuuya picked up the phone, putting him on speaker as he got dressed for the day.

The response came in a teasing tone, which was a good sign for Dazai. Maybe he really hadn’t read everything yet. “What do you want, asshole?”

“How does it feel being famous now?”

“The exact same, considering I haven’t left my bed all day,” then there was shuffling, indicating that he was finally getting out of his bed. As if Dazai could talk though.

“Let’s go out! The arcade is hella empty at this time, so we can go there and I can rock your ass at those dumb fighting games,” Dazai hummed, bringing his phone with him into the restroom so that he could start on his makeup. “Winner gets something from the loser.”

“You’re on.”

And with that, he hung up. Good. It was looking pretty good so far- as long as he kept Chuuya away from the comments, everything would be alright. Chuuya had improved in the past month- he was eating now. Maybe not a lot, but healing took time. He was scared of what might happen after Chuuya saw the comments; would he relapse? Would he stop eating again? Dazai was determined to make sure that Chuuya was okay, no matter what that took.

By the time he was ready for the arcade, Chuuya was leaned against the wall in front, waving him over, “Hey, Mackerel!”

“You look awfully happy today, Chibi,” Dazai waved back, smiling at the endearing way Chuuya’s eyes lit up. “Something good happen today?”

“Hm,” he pretended to think, opening the door to the arcade. Dazai could feel his smirk through the mask. “Maybe it’s because I’m officially a super cool, famous, hot actor now who was literally trending on Twitter earlier. I dunno though.”

“Oh my god,” the brunette raised a hand to his mouth, “You’re an actor? Can I get an autograph?”

“You’re a fan? How cute! Unfortunately, I don’t do signatures. Better luck next time, kid.”

“I’m heartbroken! When will I ever have the chance to meet such a star again?” he pretended to wipe away tears while Chuuya laughed. They were such dorks. Dazai loved that.

“C’mon, asshole. I was promised a good round of Street Fighter and I fully intend to win,” Chuuya dragged Dazai over to the machine. “Loser buys dinner?”

So he was still eating. He either hadn’t seen the comments or he already decided that they wouldn’t affect him. Good. Dazai couldn’t help but smile at that.

“You’re on!”

And truly, it was just a poor choice on Chuuya’s part to choose Street Fighter for this bet. They both knew that Dazai could beat anyone at that game with his eyes closed. (That didn’t stop Chuuya from insisting that he was way better than Dazai, which always made Dazai smile just from his pure confidence. Not that he would ever admit that.) At first, it was supposed to be the best of three rounds, but once Dazai won two in a row, they changed it to best of five. Then best of seven. Then Dazai took pity on him and let him win a round. Chuuya was so excited that he stood up from his seat, punching the air in happiness.

“See! I knew I could beat you!”

“Can you do that three more times in a row?” Dazai raised an eyebrow from where he was sitting. Chuuya could definitely tell that Dazai wasn’t really trying that time, but he still pretended that it was from his pure skill.

“I would if you weren’t always cheating!” he yelled back with furrowed eyebrows- Dazai could imagine his pout from under the mask.

Dazai put his hands up in surrender and spoke sarcastically. “Yeah, I’m definitely finding a way to cheat in this arcade with this old-ass machine just so that I, a very rich person, don’t have to pay for a damn dinner- okay, wait, I probably would do that.”

“You would!”

“We can swap sides, if that’ll convince you!”

“You probably rigged it so that it’ll just work for wherever you sit! I don’t trust that!”

“How the hell would I manage to do that?”

“I dunno! You’re smart, I’m sure you figured something out!”

“Aw, you think I’m smart?” Dazai put a hand to his heart. “You flatter me so much, ma petite limace.”

“Don’t use French to call me a goddamn slug!” he huffed back, sitting back in his seat. “Just play another round and I’ll beat you even if you rigged the stupid game.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say!”

Dazai won.

When Chuuya wordlessly grabbed Dazai’s wrist and pulled up out of his seat, he would’ve questioned it, but that wasn’t true Dazai nature. Instead, he resorted to teasing. “I know you’re dying to drag me somewhere to make out, but I wait until the third date, babe.”

“Oh, hush!” he rolled his eyes. “We’re playing a fucking racing game because I’m not in the mood to lose to your damn tricks again!”

“How do you know I didn’t rig these?” Dazai smiled in response as they came across the racing game in question and sat in one of the chairs. Really, Dazai couldn’t rig any of the games and they both knew that, but it was a lot better for Chuuya’s ego if they pretended he did.

“You can’t rig everything in this arcade,” Chuuya scoffed. The truth was simply that Chuuya was insanely better at racing than Dazai, who only really played fighting games and Pokemon. And Sims. Sims was really good for when he was stuck in a room for weeks at a time.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

They both narrowed their eyes at each other. Chuuya eventually shrugged, “Maybe it is one. You’re on, motherfucker.”

“Actually, I only fucked your mom once-”

“I don’t have a mom, try again, bitch,” he crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat as if he’d checkmated Dazai.

“Fine, I fucked your dads. At the same time”

“Ew.”

“And I would do it again!” he hummed, turning to the game while Chuuya just gave him a disgusted look. “Let’s play, Chibiko!”

And of course, to no one’s surprise, Chuuya won time and time again. And also to no one’s surprise, he absolutely burst out shouting every time he won. If it was anyone else, Dazai would’ve rolled his eyes and walked away, but something about the way Chuuya lit up was too precious to walk away from. But he still whined as if he was truly upset by the loss and demanded another round. Not because he wanted to spend more time with Chuuya. Definitely not that. God, why would you even imply that?

“And that’s four to zero! I win!”

“The bet was over Street Fighter! You changed the rules without asking! I call unfair play!”

“Fine!” he huffed. “What’s a neutral game for us both?”

“Dance Dance Revolution!” Dazai lit up. It’d been forever since they’d played that game and Chuuya won last time (by barely anything, let it be known!)

“Hell yeah!” Chuuya jumped up as if he was hoping that Dazai would say that. It was like they could always read each other’s mind sometimes. “You’re going down!”

It was, unfortunately, only for one person at a time, so they just took turns with the same song and whoever scored higher would get the win. As far as Dazai knew, Chuuya didn’t mind sitting there for a minute while Dazai played, and Dazai definitely didn’t mind watching Chuuya. Something about the way his hair fell from his ponytail (that he always tied right before playing, which was hot) while he was on the machine and the focus in his eyes as he danced… it was magnetizing. He couldn’t take his eyes away from Chuuya.

So as Chuuya started, as decided by a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, that was exactly what Dazai did: stare at him. Until his phone started buzzing.

Akiko was calling. What on Earth would she be calling for? She normally just spam-texted him if she needed something.

“I’m gonna take this call, I’ll be right back,” Dazai said to Chuuya, to which the redhead nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen. Competitive ass.

As soon as Dazai stepped outside the arcade, he answered the call, “What’s up? You never call.”

“Thank God,” she sighed a breath of relief. “Have you looked online?”

“What are you talking about?” Dazai asked, not wanting to take the phone away from his ear. It wasn’t like he could put her on speaker while he was outside or anything, so she’d just have to tell him. “Is it about the resurfaced dating rumors? Because really it-”

“No, Osamu. It-” her breath hitched. “I think Mori leaked information. About you- about Chuuya- it… I’m so confused.”

What?

What the fuck? What was happening?

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with me. What exactly are you looking at right now?” Dazai’s voice was obviously panicked, but he was trying his best to hold it together. He hadn’t disobeyed Mori- not that Mori had noticed at least. There was no way- he always checked to make sure that Mori didn’t have someone following him and that there was no way of knowing he was with Chuuya. How would he-? How did he-? What?

“There’s… a lot, to put it lightly. Where are you? I tried to find you at your room, but it was locked and you weren’t responding. I was so scared when you didn’t pick up your phone the first time.”

“I’m on my way back right now,” he walked as fast as he possibly could, rushing to get to the hotel. “I need to have a few words with Mori.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Mori won’t fucking be by the time I’m done with him,” and with that, Dazai hung up on her. A million thoughts were running through his mind and all of them were screaming. How could he do that to Chuuya? To someone who was entirely innocent and still believed in the good of the fucking world despite the shit that he’d been through.

When Dazai got to Mori’s hotel room, he didn’t even bother hiding his anger, knocking on the door with all of his strength. He wanted to hit it hard enough to leave scratches on his fists- he wanted to feel burning pain. Mori opened the door so calmly with that fucking smile on his lips, it only made Dazai even more furious.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Dazai’s voice came out as shaky as it did loud- he was not going to cry right now.

“I think we should have this discussion in my room- not in the middle of the hallway. Would you like some tea?” Mori closed the door as Dazai stormed in.

“How can you even act like this right now? Like you didn’t just ruin someone’s life over nothing. Over fucking nothing.”

“Oh, Dazai, sweetheart-”

“Do not call me that,” Dazai couldn’t even think straight with all of the pure rage flowing through his body. “Where did I go wrong? Have I not been your obedient servant for months?”

“You really haven’t,” he said with a shrug, as if Dazai wasn’t yelling at him. Mori simply took a seat on his bed.

“How so? Tell me how I can service you better, my precious king,” the sarcasm dripped off his tongue like venom.

“Well, where should I start? Perhaps the letter that you dropped Nakahara months ago? Or maybe the cafe you go to all the time? How about when he snuck into your hotel room? Shall I continue?”

Dazai narrowed his eyes. “How do you even know about that?”

“I have eyes everywhere, Osamu-”

“You have no right to call me that either.”

“Alright, Dazai,” he clicked his tongue, unamused. As if he had any right to be upset. “Well, the letter was truly obvious- you’re too attentive not to notice that you dropped a paper and Nakahara looked very confused as he read the front. He looked very suspicious putting it in his pocket, you know.”

“Fine. Sure. I left him a note letting him know that you’re an asshole who doesn’t deserve even half of the money I make you. What else?”

“I really thought that you were brighter than this, Osamu,” Dazai flinched at the name again. He was just trying to get under Dazai’s skin at this point, as if he hadn’t already ruined everything. “It was just too easy to put a tracking device on Nakahara’s phone. So it was really no surprise when there were always two red dots next to each other on the map. And before you ask, the hotel rooms have cameras in them. Of course, I’d want to know what happened when I heard my dear little client crying so harshly one night. And what a surprise I saw when Nakahara’s phone was right next to yours on my map again. And of course, I would also want to know what warranted such a harsh reaction, so I made sure to get the camera footage with audio. Just to make sure you were safe.”

“I’ll only be safe when I’m far, far away from you.”

“Trust me, this isn’t anything that you can’t bounce back from. Really, with how abusive Nakahara is, this is really good for you.”

“The only person who has ever abused me is you!” he snapped. “All you do is take and take as long as you benefit. You don’t care about me- you’ve never cared about me, so stop pretending that you do. If you cared about me, then you wouldn’t have taken away the one person who brought me genuine happiness in years. If you cared about me, then I wouldn’t have tried to kill myself when I was fifteen-”

“I don’t believe you can blame me for your own mental health issues. That girl traumatized you, as you claimed. She was the reason you tried to jump to such harsh-”

“No! She might’ve caused me pain, but you- you- were the one who refused to do anything about it. You told me that it was good for me- to get used to it. You told me that she was going to be the first of many. You told me that I couldn’t senselessly complain while I had so much work to get done.”

“And I was right,” he stared emotionlessly into Dazai’s eyes. They were so similar, yet so different. The most fucked-up family imaginable. “Was I not?”

“I was a child,” Dazai finally felt the grief. The grief of losing his past self. The grief of losing his humanity. It came crashing down on him. “I was a child and I needed protection.”

“You’re stronger than that.”

“I’m not a fucking pawn for you to play with!”

“Osamu, let me tell you what’s going to happen,” Mori intertwined his fingers together, as if making a deal. “You’re going to actually obey my orders from here on out and we can make a great recovery from all this drama. I’ll write out a full script for you regarding this whole situation if you’re asked about it in the future and-”

“You lost your blackmail. You already ruined Chuuya’s life, so what the fuck are you gonna do if I don’t listen?” he glared daggers into Mori’s eyes, crossing his arms like a disobedient child.

“It seems that you’ve forgotten that I have a little something of yours in my possession.”

“I know fully well what you have,” he spat. “Go on. Break it. Shatter it into a million pieces and see if I give a shit.”

“You’ve gotten awfully good at bluffing, Osamu.”

Dazai shook his head. He was done. He walked right over to Mori’s bedside table and grabbed the snow globe, holding it gently for a few seconds. And then he smashed it on the ground with every bit of strength in his body.

“Now what do you have? Huh?”

“Poor Tane must be so heartbrok-”

“When will you get it through your thick skull that you took everything from me? I don’t care about this snow globe anymore. I don’t care about anything anymore! You know that I’ll never be able to see her again- you’ll never let me see her again. I don’t need some fucking symbol of her love when everything I love gets torn from my grasp anyway,” Dazai walked past, ignoring the glass shards that were getting stuck in the bottom of his shoe. He walked to the door, about to leave.

“I hope you have a life as shitty as you are, Ougai.”

- - -

“What do you think you’re doing, punk?”

Chuuya didn’t even flinch at the harsh tone or the sudden noise, only stopping his graffiti and turning to look at the voice. “Making art. What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re fucking with my house,” the tall, muscular man raised an eyebrow at Chuuya, as if he expected Chuuya to back down. As if. Chuuya would never back down from a challenge- especially at the age of seventeen, when he was still an arrogant little shit.

“I dunno. I think I’m making it awfully prettier,” Chuuya looked back at his painting. “And you’re lucky I’m not even charging you for it.”

“This child really thinks he can fuck with us,” he spoke as if there were more than one of them there. Chuuya took another look around- it was just him and the man.

“Now, who are you calling a child?”

“You look like a fucking ten year old!”

“Did you just learn the word ‘fuck’? Really, even someone with a sailor’s mouth like me doesn’t need to use it in every damn sentence. Maybe you’re the child between the two of us.”

The man started cracking his knuckles and walking toward Chuuya. Chuuya was down for a good fight. “You’re really-”

“Calm it,” Iceman’s voice called from the distance, sounding monotone and gruff as ever. “Let him go and we’ll take care of the spray paint.”

“If it isn’t old Icey,” he crossed his arms with a laugh. “What if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll have to deal with us.”

“And me!” Chuuya huffed. He was just as damn strong as every other member of the Flags, even if he didn’t look it. “Trust me, you don’t want to be on my bad side.”

“Ah! I’m so scared,” the man rolled his eyes sarcastically.

That landed him a punch to the stomach. And all of a sudden they were fighting- one punch after another. Kicking, hair pulling, everything. Iceman was also there, helping Chuuya, despite the younger’s constant protests. If the other Flags had been there already, he only noticed them when they also jumped in. Other members of the muscular man’s gang had also joined. Where had everyone come from? It was just another piece of Chuuya’s missing memory.

The Flags took care of him that night- gave him ice for his injuries and talked to his parents about him staying over with them for a night, so they didn’t notice the swelling on Chuuya’s face. Chuuya never said thank you.

And now Chuuya was in the arcade alone, having finished his round of Dance Dance Revolution and insanely confused on where the fuck Dazai had gone. He mentioned that he had to take a call, so he assumed that Dazai would just be outside, but when he looked, Dazai was nowhere to be seen.

His phone was blowing up with texts from Tachihara, Gin, Higuchi, Ryuu- even some people he hadn’t spoken to in ages. Chuuya didn’t bother checking any of the messages, instead going straight to Dazai’s contact and calling him.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Nothing.

Fuck.

It’s okay- everything’s okay. What could’ve happened? If it was an emergency, Dazai would be back in his hotel room, right? He’d have to be in his hotel room. So what could Chuuya do other than rush all the way to Dazai’s room?

Should he go up the tree? That’s safer, isn’t it? But when he tapped on the window, there was no response. Not even the harsh yells like he received last time. Bad sign.

Maybe he wasn’t there. But also, Chuuya had no idea where else Dazai could’ve gone, so he just had to pray that Dazai was just not responding. He sent Dazai’s phone message after message as he made his way to Dazai’s room the proper way. No responses. Not even seen. What was Chuuya supposed to do in this situation?

“Dazai?” he knocked on the door softly as he called. No response again. Chuuya knocked louder and called his name again, “Dazai? Are you in there?”

A tired groan came from the other side of the door. Thank God, he was there and he was okay.

“Can you open the door for me?” and when there was no response again, Chuuya resorted to teasing. That was their normal, so what else was he to do? “You pride yourself on being such a good dog owner, yet you leave your puppy all alone and won’t let him come find you when he’s trying to be a good dog.”

A whine.

Not a good sign. Not good at all. Normally teasing at a time like this was alright for both of them. Maybe not now. Okay. What could’ve caused Dazai to be like this? He didn’t get so vulnerable this easily.

Last resort, he could break in. Of course, he didn’t want to- why would he after hearing about what Dazai’d gone through? But Dazai wasn’t okay and there was no way that Chuuya would let him go through that alone. Dazai taught him how to pick locks anyway- you can’t train a hawk and expect it not to hunt. He let a warning before entering, to prevent Dazai from being scared, “I’m coming in.”

Shit.

What the fuck happened?

Chapter Text

It was hot.

When Chuuya woke up, it felt like he was trapped inside of a furnace. Sweat was dripping down every inch of his body and there was the light hint of smoke in the air. What the fuck? Was it just a bad dream or was global warming really getting a hell of a lot worse? In his half asleep state, all he could do was rub his eyes and grumble. Upon opening his eyes, though, he was met with a sight that truly woke him up.

“Guys?” Chuuya called, seeing if the Flags were awake next to him. None of them were. Why weren’t they awake? A little louder, he called again. “Guys?”

“Chuuya?” Pianoman’s voice called first, tired and rough as he sat up. “What’s happening?”

“Are you seeing the fire too or have I finally lost it?” he licked his lips, staring at the fire surrounding them from all sides in frozen panic. Rising high, burning hot. Smoke filled the air that wasn’t already on fire. It was almost like someone had purposefully used gasoline around the entire building- perhaps someone had. Shit.

Chuuya knew that the gang was bad news, but he didn’t necessarily think that they would resort to this. Think, Chuuya, think. What was he supposed to do?

“Wake the others up- I’ll call the fire station,” Pianoman directed, seeming too calm for the situation. He was always calm about these things though; it was like he’d gone through it all before. Maybe he had. But Chuuya didn’t have time to think, only following Pianoman’s instructions as his mind went completely blank.

In frantic motions, Chuuya shook everyone awake, hearing Pianoman talk on the phone in the background as the fire seemed to inch closer. There was no getting out of here until someone put out the fire. Every window, door, passage was entirely blocked by harsh flames.

After staring at it for a second, Chuuya realized that the fire didn’t seem to inch closer- the fire was most definitely inching closer, slowly making its way toward the group of boys. Was this the end for them? What was he supposed to do here?

Dads. Call his dads.

His phone was still on him- thank God- and he pressed on the first of them he could find. A breath of relief was let out as they picked up.

“Chuuya? Is everything okay?” Arthur’s voice was full of concern, which was entirely warranted. Chuuya never called. The flames cracked in the background as Chuuya tried his best to find the right words. Or any words. Everything was just a messy blur to him.

“I’m scared-” he admitted. “I’m so fucking scared. The firefighters are on their way, but there’s fire and it’s closing in and I’m scared, Dad. I’m so scared. I don’t wanna die. Not yet. But it’s getting closer and closer and I don’t know what the fuck to do and it’s so hard to breathe, not just because of the fire-”

Shuffling was heard from the other side of the line and Arthur’s voice sounded more firm, “It’s going to be okay. Where are you right now?”

“The beige house next to the abandoned playground we always went to. Why?”

“I’m on my way.”

“But- you don’t need to come here. Please don’t come here. You can’t get hurt, Dad- the firefighters are already coming and it’ll-”

“I don’t care- I’m on my way. I need to make sure you’re safe.”

“Dad, I-”

“I love you, okay?”

“I love you too.” Chuuya said for the first time, too scared that it would be the last. It couldn’t be. And Arthur couldn’t come and help him- he would only get himself hurt in the process. The call ended before Chuuya could warn him again. If something happened to him, Chuuya would never forgive himself.

Why were the firefighters still not there? Chuuya had to keep squeezing back at this point, the fire getting too close and everyone touching from how little room they had. He stood up- that’d save space, right? Everyone followed suit, Doc squeezing his IV pole into himself to make sure it wouldn’t take up room.

“I’m sorry!” Chuuya burst, tears finally falling out as the fire was getting dangerously close to them. Everything came out at once, but it got choked up in his throat, nothing said the way he wanted to. “I didn’t think that this would- that they would- that- I-“

It was hard to talk through the harsh sobs and hiccups that escaped his mouth where words should’ve gone. His brain was a jumble of different thoughts, all the things he wanted to do before he died, all the things he wanted to say. And it was all his fault that they were even stuck in this mess. Despite that, he felt comforting arms pulling him in, holding him gently. Why were they still so sweet ot him? Why weren’t they shoving him into the fire, at least taking some kind of revenge for the pain he inflicted on them?

Death was going to take him, but at least it was while he was holding his favorite people. They deserved better. Doc should’ve been able to heal and save all of those people the way he aspired. Lippmann should’ve become the world’s most famous actor, shining on every stage. Pianoman should’ve gone on to be the president of France- everyone knew he’d be wonderful at it. Iceman should’ve gotten to turn his life around, to stop getting into fights and hurting himself. Albatross should’ve gotten to live longer than just nineteen years, should’ve gone to college and started really living; he was so young. They were all too young. Too young for this bullshit- too young to die.

“Chuuya!”

Paul’s voice called from the side of the house. He was there, yelling from outside the cracked window and seeming like he was about to… No, he couldn’t-

He saw Paul give Arthur a kiss before climbing through the window, fire burning against his skin as he hissed in pain. Chuuya let go from the hug to turn around, and Paul carried him, whispering, “This is gonna hurt.”

“What about-”

“Follow me,” Paul nodded to the others as he ran back towards the window, hissing again with every step in pain and dropping Chuuya into Arthur’s arms outside the window before climbing out of it himself and falling to the ground in agony immediately after. His clothes were burnt and blisters were all over his skin. His eyes were scrunched together as he tried to ignore the pain. Why did Paul have to get hurt in this mess too? Why did Chuuya ruin everything for everyone? Chuuya looked back to the window, hoping to see the rest of the Flags making their way out.

No one came out the window after Paul.

“They’re still in there!” Chuuya realized, pushing himself out of Arthur’s arms and ignoring the burning sensation through his entire body. It didn’t matter if Chuuya got hurt, he needed to save them. “I need to go make sure they-”

“No! You can’t go back in there- we can’t risk anything happening to you!”

It was the one time Chuuya ever heard Arthur yell.

“I can’t leave them to die!”

Arthur breathed- took a deep inhale- and took off his jacket. Before Chuuya could even think about what he was doing, Arthur went through the window, directly into the fire. There was no way that there was any space unburnt in the house now- no way that Arthur could be okay in there. No. No- this couldn’t be happening. If anyone was supposed to die, it should’ve been Chuuya. He deserved it- he was the one who got them into this mess, he’s the only one who should be involved in it. No one else should’ve gotten hurt. If he’d known that graffiti was at the expense of his friends and family… he would do anything to undo it. He didn’t know when the tears started falling again.

The firefighters got there at that moment. It was a blur. All Chuuya remembered was the way that Paul tried to comfort him as people tried to stop the giant fire. People being brought out on stretchers- it didn’t feel like the Flags or Arthur at the time. The burn that was running through his body. Fire.

Arthur didn’t die in the mess- only getting third degree burns all over his body while he was trying to save the Flags. None of the others made it out alive. Chuuya lived with that guilt for years- so many years filled with nothing but regret. But he owed it to them and his dads to keep living. To do better and to get a hold of his life. To actually go to school and try his hardest. To truly live.

He wasn’t going to watch another person die.

“Dazai!”

Blood. That was what Chuuya saw all over the floor, all over Dazai’s body, all over everything. Blood covered everything. And there was a bottle of pills- the few still left spilled on the floor next to Dazai’s barely conscious body. His eyes lazily fluttered to meet Chuuya’s. They were hazed over with some kind of fog, making him seem barely like himself. Those weren’t the same eyes Chuuya looked at and longed for. The happiness in them didn’t even seem to exist anymore, looking lifeless, even if Dazai was still conscious. It was like he wasn’t really living. He was just alive.

This never happened before- he didn’t know how he was supposed to handle a situation like this. What was the first step here? Start with the pills. Get those out of his system. They’ll tear his insides apart before the blood loss kills him. And it’ll be quicker than patching up all the wounds. Yeah. Good plan.

Grabbing Dazai’s body, Chuuya carried him over to the bathroom, talking as he went to try to simulate Dazai’s brain. Stay conscious. “It’s okay, Mackerel. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Chuu…” the faintest whisper escaped Dazai’s lips, sounding more like a groan than an attempt at speaking. How long had he been in there? How long would it take for the pills to destroy him? How much time did Chuuya have before he lost another person he cared about?

“Save your strength,” he set Dazai down near the toilet, leaning his head over it. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

“Hm?” Dazai was barely processing words anymore, but he must’ve understood because of Chuuya’s fingers prodding at his lips. If the situation were less serious- if Chuuya was less terrified- he would’ve blushed at the intimacy or the plain softness of Dazai’s lips. But he couldn’t even dare think about that when medicine was slowly tearing away at Dazai’s insides. Dazai’s lips parted and Chuuya dug his fingers into the back of Dazai’s throat, making him gag. He tried to push Chuuya off, but he was too weak and tired.

“I’m sorry,” Chuuya ran his other hand along Dazai’s back comfortingly. He knew that Dazai’s brain must be trying its hardest not to break down at the unwanted, rough touch. Hopefully Chuuya’s voice grounded him, at least in the slightest. “It’ll be over soon.”

His fingers prodded at Dazai’s throat again, hitting nerves until Dazai threw up. Ignoring the disgusting feeling on his hand, Chuuya kept pushing at it until all of the medicine was out of his system. As much as he could get out, at least. Until it was only acid left to throw up.

“See? It’s over. You’re okay. I’ll buy you food later to help the empty stomach,” he comforted as he took the fingers out of the brunette’s mouth and washed his hands to get rid of the vomit on them. He flushed the puke away and crouched in front of Dazai. “Do you have clean bandages I can put on you? Disinfectants?”

Dazai was still obviously dealing with dizziness and pain, because the question took a few moments to process. He shook his head then winced at the movement. Probably an awful headache too. Okay- okay, it’d be fine. Chuuya started by grabbing towels and dousing them in water to clean up the blood on his arms. There was so much, Chuuya didn’t know how he hadn’t passed out from the loss yet- but that was probably also affecting his dizziness.

Once he’d wiped off the excess blood from Dazai’s arms, the cuts were shining clearly against his wrists, accompanied by darker lines and some scabs. Was this something he did regularly? Holy shit, how had Chuuya never noticed it? He wished that he had helped out earlier. He wished that he could’ve done something before it got this far. Fuck.

Was there any way he could buy stuff to help- or get someone to? That would take forever… Who might have clean bandages and disinfectants? It wasn’t like any of his friends were medical professionals… wait.

Yosano.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up-” Chuuya muttered to himself as the sound of the phone rang.

“Chuuya?”

“Do you have bandages?”

Her breath hitched as soon as Chuuya asked, “Are you with Dazai right now? Is he okay?”

Chuuya looked down at Dazai’s limp body, taking the slightest bit of comfort in the way his chest went up and down as he breathed. He’d finally fallen asleep. His hair was a mess, covering his closed eyes and his clothes were so bloody that Chuuya couldn’t even help the pang in his heart. What happened to cause Dazai to do this? “He will be. But I need to wrap up his arms and disinfect them before he bleeds too much. I don’t think he’d forgive me if I took him to a hospital.”

Yosano shuffled from the other side of the phone, “Fuck. I thought he’d be fine after talking to Mori. Shit, I- I’ll be there as soon as possible with the stuff. Is it just the cuts? Did he get drunk again too?”

“Not that I saw. He took some medicine- there was a nearly empty bottle of pills next to him. I don’t know what it is but-”

“Shit. He just got a refill too,” she huffed. “Did you-”

“I made him throw it up, but I didn’t know what else to do. It should mostly be out of his system.”

“Good. See you soon. Make sure he doesn’t die.”

Call ended.

Chuuya took another look at Dazai, sitting down next to him. What could’ve caused this to happen? Why would he have had to go talk to Mori- what would be so desperate that he had to leave the arcade so abruptly? There were so many questions that Chuuya wasn’t stable enough to even think of the answer for.

Dazai’s head lulled onto Chuuya’s shoulder. Please be okay, Chuuya pleaded. He didn’t even know who he was pleading to- Dazai? Himself? God? Chuuya reached for Dazai’s hand, holding it comfortingly and taking the warmth as his own comfort. Dazai was warm. He wasn’t dead. He wouldn’t die. Chuuya wouldn’t let Dazai die like this- hell, he would drag Dazai back from hell and kill him himself. Dazai deserved to live a good life. One far away from Mori and fame and he should be able to do whatever the fuck he wanted to. If Chuuya had a time machine, he would gladly sacrifice everything to let Dazai have a second chance at living. A life where he didn’t become an actor. No matter how good he was at it, he didn’t want it. That was far more important than talent ever would be.

Yosano made it there not too long later, but it also felt like a million years looking at Dazai’s unconscious body. He let her take care of the disinfecting and wrapping of the bandages; Chuuya never did anything like this before, while she was a trained professional. After all that, she ran some tests on his vitals, making sure that those were all alright and then asked Chuuya for help getting him on his bed.

“He’ll be okay,” Yosano assured Chuuya, who was still staring at Dazai with a sad look on his face. He wanted nothing more than to look away, but he just kept staring. He couldn’t stop. Every time his heart clenched in pain, he just wanted to hold onto Dazai more and more. “I promise.”

“I just…” Chuuya let out a heavy breath, still trying to take in what happened. “I don’t know why he would do this?”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No?”

“The rumors?” as if Chuuya would know what she was talking about. There was nothing that was coming to mind as she said that. It’d been months since the last rumor that involved Dazai. “I might not know the full story, but as Dazai’s friend, I would like an explanation for them, by the way.”

“I’m a few pages behind- what rumors?”

Yosano blinked. Once. Twice. “You really don’t know? Have you not been online all day?”

“Not since this morning, no. Dazai and I were just at the arcade together.”

After a moment, she pulled out her phone, showing Chuuya the article that was being spread from site to site. The title: “Dazai Osamu’s Abusive Relationship with Nakahara Chuuya.” Featured were clips of different events, showing the time that Chuuya asked Dazai to drink with him, claiming he knew Dazai’s past with alcohol. What past with alcohol? Dazai’d been a recovering alcoholic? Shit. Well, if it was true, unlike the rest of the article.

It also showed Dazai’s breakdown when he’d come in through the window, though specifically, it was when he shoved Chuuya off and yelled at him. “Haven’t you hurt me enough?”

Chuuya understood why it looked bad- why people thought that he might be hurting Dazai. But why would Dazai try something like this because Chuuya got a bad reputation? Did it really hurt him at all? (Though it did show Dazai in an extremely vulnerable moment. Really in two. Another reason added to the list of why Chuuya hated Mori with every inch of his body.)

“I would never hurt him on purpose,” Chuuya breathed, pleading Yosano to believe him. She did. It was obvious that she did. “Is the… alcoholic part true?”

She glanced to the side and nodded her head, “We all thought he was doing better. He just got better at pretending, I guess. I just… Can I have an explanation for the breakdown? I’ve never seen Dazai like that before and I’m sure you had good reason to do what you did, but he doesn’t just cry out of nowhere. I need to know what happened. I need to be able to trust you.”

Chuuya thought for a second before replying in the most honest way he could, “It’s not my place to tell you. I did something that I didn’t realize was triggering and because of his own circumstances, he thought I was someone else. I don’t have the right to tell you what it was though.”

Yosano smiled lightly, “You’re a good kid, Chuuya.”

“I’m almost as old as you,” he smiled back, giving her a light punch.

“Do you want me around when he wakes up? I can leave if you want me to. I’m sure you’ll want to talk to him.” she took a second. “I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you.”

“Why would he want to talk to me?” Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows. “I caused this, didn’t I?”

“Not in the way you think,” Yosano shook her head, patting him on the shoulder. “Trust me, Dazai cares about you so much. So much more than I think he’ll ever let you know.”

“I care about him too,” he looked at the unconscious body again, sleeping on his bed peacefully. As if he was just taking a nap. As if he were happy. “A lot.”

“I know you do.”

Moments after, Yosano packed up her stuff, telling Chuuya to call her once he finished talking to Dazai. Chuuya had to assure her that he’d let her know immediately before she left. And then it was just the two of them in the room together, silence overtaking everything. All Chuuya knew to do was to get Dazai’s blanket and drape it over his sleeping body before sitting on the nearby chair. He was going to be okay. He had to be okay.

He wasn’t able to save the Flags, but he saved Dazai now. Maybe it was him learning from his past mistakes. But he wished that he could go back and make sure everyone got out alive back then. Or that they were never put into that stupid situation to begin with.

“It’s okay,” Pianoman assured him, rubbing a comforting hand along Chuuya’s shoulder, whispering to him, as if he were scared of waking Dazai up. “Everything’s okay as long as you’re safe. And hey, you even helped Dazai. Who knows what would’ve happened if you hadn’t came?”

“But it’s all my f-”

“Shut up,” Albatross rolled his eyes, loudly talking as he ruffled Chuuya’s hair. “What happened to the Chuuya I remember? The old you would’ve gone straight to Mori and tore his body apart instead of sitting around and moping! We want action!”

“He’s right,” Lippmann crouched in front of him, a hand cupping his cheek softly. “Once Dazai’s okay, once he’s woken up, you don’t need to spend time crying over what could’ve happened or guilt that you keep bottling up. You fight back.”

“How am I even supposed to fight back? I can’t try to hurt Mori; he’d only hurt Dazai worse. I’ve already caused him more than enough damage.”

“How boring,” Doc grumbled from behind him, giving him a punch to the shoulder. “You think far too narrowly. There’s plenty of ways to harm him.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Doc’s right,” Iceman smoked a cigarette while leaning against the door. “He deserves pain. Figure it out one way or another.”

They were right. Chuuya knew it when he looked at Dazai again, heart aching at his current state. As soon as they’d had a conversation about what the hell happened, they’d start talking about ways to fuck up Mori’s life. To hurt him worse than anyone has ever been hurt. He deserved so much worse than anything they could do in their entire lives.

For now though, he held Dazai’s hand and prayed for the best.

Chapter Text

How did Chuuya manage to get into this situation?

Chuuya was always a hothead, never learning how to control his harsh temper and definitely unable to hold it in. When he felt emotions, he felt them with every part of his heart. Dazai definitely knew that, but he’s sure that Dazai didn’t plan for it to go the way it did. Maybe he regretted opening his stupid, big mouth, but part of him didn’t care. Dazai was the one who riled him up anyway.

“Shit,” Dazai breathed the second he woke up, blinking with shaking pupils as he tried to cough the sleepy rasp out of his throat. Or maybe it was from the vomiting. Chuuya would still have to go buy him something to make up for that.

“I have medicine,” Chuuya jumped at the voice, beyond happy that Dazai was awake and speaking. He slipped his hand out of Dazai’s, praying that the brunette didn’t catch him. Dazai didn’t need to know that Chuuya’s only comfort was the warmth of his hand. “For your headache.”

“What are you doing here?” he grumbled, sitting himself up .

“No! Lay down. You need rest,” the redhead rushed over to gently lean Dazai back on the bed, setting the glass of water and pills down on the bedside table. “You’re probably-”

“I’ve done this a million times, don’t act like you know what’s best for me,” his hand harshly pushed Chuuya’s away, staying up as his words came out like venom. “I wasn’t planning on waking up this time.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

Sharp eyes met Chuuya’s round ones, which was an odd change for the duo, seeing as they were normally the opposite. Chuuya’d never seen Dazai’s eyes so void of emotion, so absolutely dead. Even his voice was dead, as if the words were meant to shoot a bullet at Chuuya. “You shouldn’t be. You should’ve cheered when you found out that I tried to kill myself again. Just give me my damn razor and we can make it happen.”

“Dazai, what? Hell, no!” Chuuya couldn’t hide the shock and pain in his voice, “Are you hearing yourself? Why the fuck would I want you dead?”

“You hate me. I hate you. It’s what we do,” Dazai reached over for the medicine, putting it in his mouth and biting them, making the ibuprofen turn to powder. What was up with him? There was something wrong, Chuuya could feel it radiating off of the brunette like a giant warning sign. But Chuuya wasn’t going to leave him, not while he was like this. Instead, he was still trying to reason.

“We both know that we don’t hate each other. Not really- not when it actually means something.”

“Speak for yourself, but don’t act like you even know the first thing about me.”

“You might think that, but I do. I know you as well as you know me.”

“I know you because you’re the easiest person to read I’ve ever met,” Dazai spat the words, grinding his teeth before he spoke again. Chuuya could only stare at him, both scared and interested in what Dazai was about to say. “You care so damn much about other people it’s pathetic. It’s like you just hurt people over and over and then cry about it because you didn’t mean to like a stupid child. You deserve to feel guilty. You should feel worse than guilty. Nothing you’ve ever done has ever benefitted anyone other than you, because you’re a selfish bastard who can’t see when they hurt others. And just a news flash: you aren’t better than anyone else for wanting to do good when you aren’t even good at anything.”

“I-” Chuuya tried to talk, but it seemed like his brain just malfunctioned. What was Dazai saying? It was like he took everything he knew about Chuuya’s fears and pointed the dagger straight at his heart. “Dazai-”

“You think you’re all that, but here’s a fucking reality check for you: no one cares about you. No matter how much time you put into caring, no one ever looked twice at you. Why would they? There’s nothing even good to look at,” he scoffed, but Chuuya saw the slight flinch in his own words. “So stop pretending to care about me- no one cares either way. You won’t get a fucking gold star for it.”

“Pretending?” he finally snapped, eyebrows furrowing as he stared at Dazai. “You think that I’ve just been pretending to care about you this entire time?”

“You can’t care about me if you don’t know me.”

“I fucking know you, Dazai!” Chuuya yelled, but his eyes were pleading with Dazai’s.

The Dazai he knew wasn’t staring back at him- instead, it was a shell of the person Chuuya grew to love. It wasn’t the same person who called him beautiful over and over again. The same person who comforted him while he threw up all of the alcohol he downed. The same person who allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of Chuuya. The same person who said that he trusted Chuuya more than anything in the world.

But Chuuya went on, praying that Dazai would come back.

“Like it or not, I could write pages and pages about you because I care about you that damn much. I know that your favorite color is blue because it reminds you of the ocean. I know that you hate coffee more than anything but still go to my work place everyday just to annoy me. I know that you care about Oda and Ango more than anyone else in this entire universe because they’ve always understood what no one else could. I know that you pretend to be okay even though you’re breaking down inside piece by piece. I know that people treated you like shit and that you blame yourself for it all like the idiot you are. I know you, Dazai.”

Dazai’s eyes softened, but when he opened his mouth, chokes came out. “I- Chuu- You…”

“I know that you would rather die than wear one of my pork pie hats, but you laugh every time you hear the name because it’s hilarious to you for no reason. I know that you learned an entire language just because you were bored for a few weeks, which is crazy impressive, but so you. I know that you think that there’s something wrong with you because you didn’t think that you could feel emotion as deeply as you have recently, even though there’s nothing wrong with that. I know that you never wanted to become an actor and that you wish that you’d gone to fucking college even though we both know you wouldn’t last a day in there. Do I need to keep going or do you finally fucking get it?”

The response came as a shake of his head, tears starting to fall from his eyes as he blinked rapidly, likely an attempt to stop crying.

“Maybe I don’t matter to you the way you matter to me, but don’t tell me that I don’t know you,” Chuuya shook his head too, feeling his own tears start to fall. “I wouldn’t shove my fingers down your throat til you threw up all those pills if I didn’t care about you. I wouldn’t have sat here crying my eyes out until you woke up because I was scared that you wouldn’t. I care about you so fucking much, you asshole.”

“Chuuya-”

“You call me a dog and I deny it every time, but we both know that I really would do anything you said,” he felt his voice get louder as he spoke, all the anger and pain he’d built up spilling out. “Maybe I do care too much, and maybe other people don’t give two shits about me, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll keep caring about you, dammit!”

Dazai’s voice was choked, shaky as ever. “But why?”

“Because I fucking love you!”

Chuuya shouted, the words spilling out before he could even process them. He didn’t mean to say it, but he was awful enough at hiding his emotions. It would come out sooner or later, and at this point he didn’t care. Dazai said what he thought of Chuuya, and Chuuya simply said his thoughts back. There was no more caring about it. He was going to France soon anyway. Maybe sooner than he thought.

“You were supposed to leave,” Dazai didn’t look at Chuuya, eyes pointed at his lap as tears wet his blanket. His voice was so small, it was hard to even believe he was talking. The choked, shaky murmurs contained so much more emotion than Dazai had shown the entire conversation. Chuuya had broken through. This was his Dazai. “You were supposed to get mad at me and leave me so that I could try again- why? Why would you stay?”

His heart broke at Dazai’s words. “I told you, idiot. I love you.”

“But I was so mean- I used everything against you and you still… I’m a bad person, Chuuya,” his voice got louder as he spoke, going from a whisper to cracked speaking. “My carelessness got your phone tracked- got your life ruined! If I stopped caring about you, if I stopped being selfish, none of this would’ve happened and you would’ve happily forgotten about me! When will you learn that caring about me will only hurt you?”

“I don’t care!” Chuuya yelled back. “We can get everything sorted out- that shit doesn’t matter to me! What matters are the people I care about, like you!”

“Stop caring! I only hurt you! I manipulate and use people and throw them away, so leave before I do it to you again!”

“Dazai, you obviously don’t want to hurt me, so what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that I will, Chuuya. I just did it two fucking seconds ago. I ruined your life, get that through your skull!”

“We’ll work on that,” Chuuya managed to stop yelling. Crazy how Chuuya managed to be the one to calm down first in this situation. “Do you trust me?”

All Dazai could do was stare into Chuuya’s eyes, teardrops still making their way down his cheeks. After a second, he nodded hesitantly, “Yeah. I trust you.”

“Then trust me when I say that we’ll figure this out and work through things together. Yeah, telling me that shit really fucking hurt, but I know that you didn’t mean it. And if you do mean it, then I can call Yosano here right now so that she can come take care of you because I’m not leaving you alone here no matter what. Alright?”

…

“Alright.”

“I’m still gonna call Yosano because I promised her that I would as soon as we were done talking, but after, you’re gonna need to help me figure out how to ruin Mori’s life,” Chuuya nodded at him with a smile, trying to finally lighten the mood.

Dazai smiled back with the lightest of chuckles as he wiped his eyes dry, “Now we’re talking.”

While Chuuya was on the phone with Yosano, Dazai had directed Chuuya to sit on the bed so that he could braid his hair. What a loser. (As if Chuuya didn’t smile as soon as he felt familiar hands tangle through his hair.) The second he hung up, he tried to turn to look at Dazai, but he was restrained by his hair, “You absolute dork.”

“Says you!” Dazai huffed, grabbing the hair tie off Chuuya’s wrist. “You’re the one with a dorky braid in your hair.”

“I look hot and you know it,” he raised an eyebrow, finally able to look back at Dazai. He hadn’t brought up Chuuya’s confession and half of him was desperately praying that he wouldn’t.

“You do.”

Chuuya would never admit the way his breath hitched at Dazai’s words. The way that Dazai’s eyes were looking at his, it was like he was begging Chuuya to forgive him. As if Chuuya could ever hate him in the first place.

Yeah, the rumors that Mori spread were untrue and downright awful, but that didn’t meant that Chuuya’s life was ruined. There were ways to get it sorted out, he trusted that with his whole heart. Not to mention that he was just going to go back to France anyway- all of this drama would likely stay in Japan. He wasn’t that famous. He was far more worried about Dazai and his mental and physical health.

“I think I can fix this,” Dazai spoke, voice firm and serious. Chuuya trusted him. “I can break Mori and get rid of the rumors all at once, but we’re gonna need a little help.”

“Let’s do it.”

The plan wasn’t necessarily a complicated one, but there were many pieces that added together into the puzzle that created Mori’s downfall. The goal was simple, get rid of his credibility and turn essentially the world against him. And they wouldn’t even need to lie about any of it. But this also meant that they’d need the help of a few extra people. One of those would be Yosano.

“Who was that guy you met after the court case?” Dazai asked the second that Yosano walked through the door.

“What the fuck happened to greetings?” she raised her hands as if she was surrendering. “At least let me step into the door before I have a random ass interrogation. Plus I need to check your vitals.”

“Okay, you can tell me while you test my vitals,” he huffed as if that was obvious. “Just tell me his name and contact information and everything you know about him.”

“Wow, okay,” as she got her stuff out of her first aid kit, she started talking, “His name is Edogawa Ranpo. He’s a detective who moved to America a while ago to be with his husband, but visits Japan pretty regularly. After I lost the court case, he came up to me and told me that if I ever needed to go against him again then I’d need his help.”

“Interesting. Why his help particularly?”

“He claims to be the greatest detective in the world,” Yosano laughed at that. “That guy brags about it so much, you kinda start to believe it and question it at the same time. But everyone he’s helped has always won their court case, so that must mean something. Mori has never lost one either, so he wants to be the one to bring him down, especially after I told him about all the shit he’s pulled.”

“And you trust him?”

“Crazily enough, I really do. He’s the one who pulled me out of the depression I was in, so I owe him at least my trust.”

“Is he in Japan now?”

“What’s with all your questions about him? He’s taken,” she then looked at Dazai and Chuuya’s close proximity. “You seem quite taken too, if I must admit.”

They both shuffled to opposite ends of the bed at her comment, Chuuya flushing bright red as she laughed. “Shut up! We aren’t-”

“I just wanted to see if we could get some help on my new project,” Dazai looked at Yosano, trying to make her understand his look. She didn’t. He just sighed, “You child. I just need to know what his contact information is and if he’s in Japan right now because this will mean the fucking world to you and to me. And him, I guess.”

And so that was how they got together a group of many- many people. Edogawa was there for most of the evidence gathering, he was the connection between Dazai’s planning and things getting done. Maybe the most vital part of the entire project (other than Dazai, really). Fyodor Dostoyevsky, whom Chuuya had never met in person but had heard far too much about, had been assigned to buy any necessary supplies, since Dazai’s card was tracked by Mori and the rest of them… weren’t nearly as wealthy as Fyodor. Nikolai accompanied his boyfriend with the task of actually obtaining evidence- he was the best pickpocket in the world. Ango had been tasked with keeping the media at bay, talking to interviewers and making sure that they don’t bring anything up in the meantime. Yosano gave further accounts and worked with Dazai as one of the leaders of this Mori hate group.

Oda and Chuuya were kinda just there for moral support, but Dazai insisted that they were valuable all the same.

“Can we at least murder him?” Nikolai pouted after hearing the plan.

“Death is far too good of a fate for Mori,” Dazai looked at Nikolai harshly, almost like it was a dare to challenge him. “I think this serves him exactly right.”

“Shockingly enough, I completely agree,” Fyodor nodded, Russian accent thick in his Japanese. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Me either, Fyodor,” the brunette laughed, offering him a fist bump of solidarity which was sadly refused with the shake of a head.

“You still aren’t my friend.”

“Well, I tried,” he shrugged with a small laugh, making eye contact with Chuuya across the table. Both of their eyes lit up as they met each other, smiling at each other knowingly. It broke away quickly, after the smallest second of comfort. “But honestly, any questions?”

“Are you sure we need to include Kyouka in this plan? I really don’t want her anywhere near that asshole,” Yosano let out a deep breath, crossing her arms.

“Nothing bad will happen to her. If things even start to get rough, I’ll make sure everything will stop immediately. But if she says no, then I’ll try my best to find a work-around,” Dazai assured her. “I don’t want her near him either, trust me.”

“Will we need to get a lawyer?” Ango spoke up, raising his hand as if it wasn’t just a group of people he knew.

“Nah,” Edogawa answered before Dazai even had the chance to open his mouth again. He was sucking on a lollipop lazily, leaned back in his chair as if they were just discussing the weather. “By the time we’re done, even the shittiest lawyer could defend you without even thinking. The evidence is all we need.”

“Awfully cocky, aren’t you?” Nikolai leaned forward, head resting on his hands as he looked at Edogawa.

“If you were as even half as smart as me, you’d be pretty cocky too,” he pushed his glasses up with a smirk. “I’ve known about Mori Ougai from the second I met him. I’ve just never had the opportunity to do something about it until now.”

“Where were you seven years ago?” Dazai laughed under his breath, but Chuuya only gave him a sad look. He wished that Dazai didn’t go through all that. If only they had done this years and years ago, before Dazai got hurt like this. “Any more questions? Or can I go back to the hotel and get some damn sleep?”

“I have one!” Edogawa raised his hand like a little kid, waving it as he waited for Dazai to call on him. After a second, he just spoke, “Can someone help me ride the train back to my apartment?”

Everyone sighed. How could this man manage to be so smart and so dumb at the same time? Fyodor squinted in confusion, “Just call your husband?”

“Oh, yeah! Thanks, Rich Guy!”

“Very creative nickname,” Chuuya laughed.

“Hush now, Fancy Hat, or you’re next,” he pouted at the redhead, as if he didn’t already give him a nickname? Whatever- Chuuya just rolled his eyes as he touched his hat, now conscious of it.

Before they’d parted ways, Chuuya went up to Dazai, tapping his shoulder while the others left. “Ay, asshole.”

“Hm?”

“Honestly, the fact that you respond to that is just sad.”

“You tapped me on the shoulder!”

“Details, details!” Chuuya waved his arms dismissively. “Anyway! Unless Mori has something else on you, there’s nothing stopping you from disobeying him openly now. So why stay in your hotel room? People still know where it is and damn, that lobby gets packed with people trying to see you. My apartment is- um- always free. If you wanted to, which it’s totally reasonable if you don’t want to. And actually, he has your snow globe, doesn’t he? So you have a reason to keep obeying him anyway, so really I don’t know why I asked because I knew that there was something important. Maybe I should stop talking- I’m gonna go. I’ll see you-”

“Oh, shut up,” Dazai laughed as he ruffled Chuuya’s hair. “I broke that dumb toy. And I would kill to stop being in that hotel room. I just have some stuff to bring from there.”

“Yeah, no, for sure- wait, you broke your snow globe?”

“Is there a reason for me not to?” the genuine concern on Chuuya’s face seemed to worry Dazai. Why wasn’t Dazai more upset by this?

“I mean, it’s your stuff. I can’t really comment- I just- if I had something of my birth parents, I’d keep it no matter what.”

“It’s just a reminder of the life I can’t have and that people like me can’t be happy,” Dazai shook his head. “I had to get rid of it at some point.”

“If you say so,” Chuuya nodded, trusting Dazai to make his own decisions about something as important as this. Part of him wanted to do something good for Dazai- to find his mother and let them meet again, but he knew that it was close to impossible. He didn’t even know where she might live- Dazai didn’t even know where she might live. It would just be a lost memory now.

(But Chuuya knew how hurtful lost memories were.)

Chapter Text

Step one: obtain the evidence.

This part was the hard part, as well as the part that included the most effort and planning. Edogawa explained exactly how they were to get Mori’s phone without him noticing and that was entirely the hard part. First off, in order for Mori to be distracted enough that he didn’t realize his phone being taken out of his coat pocket, they needed something that would really make him take attention off of himself. Enter Kyouka.

“Mori,” she tugged on his sleeve with a light pout. It was just before a meeting that Ango had called between all of the agents working on the movie to discuss payments. It was entirely bullshit that they created last second, but it’d be alright. Since Kouyou went without an agency, she would be there and bringing her younger sister to the meeting, early as always. “I lost my rabbit plush.”

And of course, he gushed at her and nodded happily, “Not to worry, Kyouka. I’ll help you find it. Are you sure you didn’t leave it at your house?”

“I’m sure,” Kyouka looked up at him blank-faced. Chuuya thought she was kinda like Oda in that matter, never showing how they truly felt. If he was in that situation, he knew that he would be making a disgusted face at the older man. “Come with me to trace my steps, please.”

As everyone expected, he followed her without further question. The plush in question was with Kouyou, who had also been informed of what they were doing and was just around, waiting until the moment Nikolai had properly swapped the phones so that she could get Kyouka out of there as soon as possible. No one wanted their fourteen-year-old sister near Mori Ougai for longer than necessary.

Nikolai took the first opening he saw, going over to them as inconspicuously as he could manage and slipping the phone out of his pocket, replacing it with the decoy. The decoy was a purchase that Fyodor made, since he had more than enough money to spare on such things. Not to mention, Mori had more dirt on him than there was on Earth; he was number three on the list of people who wanted to see Mori’s downfall. (First being Dazai and second being Chuuya, of course. Yosano managed fourth. It was a very close list- most people wanted him to suffer.)

They’d gone to extreme measures to make sure the phone would look exactly like Mori’s until he genuinely went to open it and try to use it. Dazai had found the picture he used as his phone screen- which was of his daughter, Elise- and set the new phone’s screen to that. There was also his phone case- clear, with a printed photo of Elise on it- that they took the time to make as well. His password- which was Elise’s birthday, are we sensing a pattern here?- was also replicated, so it would still work if he tried to access his phone. It would buy them at least enough time to get what they needed. If everything went perfectly, Nikolai could slip the real phone back before Mori even noticed that it was ever gone. If not, it’d be fine. What else was Mori going to do? Blame Dazai for stealing when he’s the money maker? If Dazai lost credibility, Mori lost money.

So Nikolai grabbed Mori’s phone, then started to place the other back in his pocket, gently, so that he didn’t notice the change in weight. The second that the phone left his nimble fingers, he rushed back to where Dazai, Edogawa, Oda, Yosano, Fyodor, and Ango were waiting. Chuuya watched out of the corner of his eye as Nikolai handed the phone to Dazai, letting him get exactly what he needed, which was apparently a voice recording of that night all those months ago. Specifically what happened directly after Chuuya fell asleep.

Chuuya was in the waiting area with Mori and Kyouka, as well as a few other agents of the actors and some of the actors themselves. He was there to keep up the act of the meeting, but also as a second eye on Kyouka, able to give signals to both Kouyou and Dazai in case he needed anything. Like now, when Mori had leaned down to be Kyouka’s height, placing his hand on her waist as he spoke to her. It was too noisy to hear what exactly he’d said, but Chuuya was sure it was some kind of praise to groom her. Fucking creep.

He gave Kouyou the nod of a head, telling her to get in there now. She understood, heading in with her bunny, making some excuse about how she’d been looking everywhere for Kyouka. Mori and Kouyou never shared any unpleasantries face to face, but Kouyou did openly tell him off for his behavior with children once. Either way, Mori never disliked her as far as she or anyone in the project knew. There would be no suspicion there.

The meeting was as boring as it was short. Chuuya almost felt bad for all of the people who didn’t know that this was just a plot to get what they needed from Mori. From the second that Ango walked in and opened the meeting room door to the second he dismissed everyone, Chuuya had his eyes on Mori, seeing if he noticed anything different regarding his phone. He checked it to see if he got any messages time to time, but not a single indication that it wasn’t the normal phone he always had. Good.

Feigning something to talk to Ango about, he stayed in the meeting room and watched the rest play out through the open door. Dazai and the rest would be sneaking in not too long later to tell them exactly the results and allow them to start step two. For now, they just watched intently as Nikolai grabbed the fake phone and went to place the new one back.

About halfway through the transaction, Mori turned sharply toward Nikolai, “What do you think you’re doing, Gogol?”

“Trying to steal your phone, duh!” he raised an eyebrow, holding Mori’s phone up as if to show how obvious it was. Nikolai handed it back to him lazily with an exaggerated pout, “Gosh, you really are tough to steal from. The rumors are pretty accurate.”

Mori snatched the phone back, examining it to make sure it was his. Even if it was the fake, it would’ve passed his observation, “Don’t forget that I can cause your boyfriend’s reputation to crumble within seconds.”

“Don’t forget that I should’ve gotten a murder charge in the past and I’m still very open to trying again,” the blonde smiled, as if he hadn’t just threatened one of the most terrifying men alive. “Toodles, Ougai!”

Sticking the phone back in his pocket, Mori simply walked away, refusing to acknowledge Nikolai’s farewell. Thankfully for everyone else, that meant that they had somehow gotten away with it smoothly. Mori was none the wiser.

“Nikolai, I might really dislike you, but that was badass,” Chuuya gave Nikolai a high five as soon as he walked in the door. Nikolai went to lick his hand, and Chuuya took it back in disgust. “Nevermind, I’m back to just disliking you.”

“And balance was restored,” he giggled, making his way straight to Fyodor, who had slipped in at some point while Nikolai was talking to Mori. The way he immediately pulled his boyfriend into a hug made Chuuya roll his eyes, but regretted it once he felt someone wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in happily.

“Guess who got the recording!” the smile was apparent in Dazai’s voice as he held up his phone, which they could only assume held all of the truth behind Mori.

“But that’s only the stuff from his listening device,” Edogawa pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “You gonna go get the rest?”

The way Dazai’s eyes suddenly narrowed at him told Chuuya that he’d said something upsetting. Edogawa’s smirk told Chuuya that he knew exactly what he was doing. Chuuya didn’t even know that they needed anything more in terms of evidence; why hadn’t he been informed on anything else? From the looks around the room, no one had. Even Fyodor looked surprised, though it didn’t seem the same way everyone else did. But Dazai looked at Edogawa and nodded his head, “I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“What else do you need?” Chuuya dared to ask.

“Nothing you need to worry about, I promise,” he waved off dismissively, smiling in a way that Chuuya could only describe as fake. “Let’s just celebrate Mori’s upcoming downfall.”

With the hard part over, they had to go on to step two: stay off of Mori’s radar. He was an overly vigilant man who would definitely expect something like this from Dazai after their apparent “talk” less than a week ago. Especially since Nikolai got caught trying to nab his phone, he would be a little more suspicious. He knew that Dazai had weird relations to Fyodor, so getting Nikolai in on something wouldn’t be difficult. So, all this considered: what was the best way to make him less suspicious?

“I can drug him!” Nikolai had offered while planning at the meeting. “If he’s unconscious from the moment we steal the phone until after he’s exposed, he can’t do anything about it!”

Everyone just blinked at him for a second. Fyodor rubbed his hand against Nikolai’s comfortingly, “Let’s try to do something a little less illegal.”

“Since when do you care about legal-”

“Anyway!” Edogawa spoke up. “If we’re going to find a legal way to stop him, we’ll need to make sure he’s too occupied with some other matters. The best distraction would be something more concerning than his reputation.”

“What would matter more to that man than himself?” Chuuya muttered under his breath. Mori was the most self-serving person in the world; what was going to distract him enough to allow enough time for him to be exposed?

“Elise, of course,” he smirked. “If she was somehow inconvenienced, I’m sure that’d take his mind off of work for a few days.”

“Okay, wait- I thought we weren’t going to do anything illegal,” Ango raised his hand as he spoke, eyebrows furrowed. “Personally, I haven’t committed any crimes and I’d rather not start now.”

“Well, everyone starts sometime,” Oda sipped his coffee quietly next to him as Ango nudged him. “What? I’m not wrong?”

“We’re still being legal!” Edogawa huffed.

“How are we gonna manage to fly to Tokyo?” Dazai crossed his arms as he leaned back in his seat. It seemed like he already knew where Edogawa was going with it, “All of the actors here have interviews to attend starting in a few days and Elise doesn’t trust many people.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he pointed his lollipop at Dazai. “Most of the actors have interviews. Not all.”

“Fine, correction: all of the actors here have interviews. What difference does that make?”

“Fukuzawa Yukichi. Does that name ring a bell?”

“The old guy who plays the teacher?” Chuuya frowned.

“Gotcha,” Dazai smiled in understanding. “So, how do we get him to agree with our plan? He seems like a righteous guy- too honest for us.”

“What honest person wouldn’t want to see the downfall of Mori Ougai?” he argued with a shrug. “Plus he’s my dad, so he better agree.”

“He’s your what?” Chuuya’s jaw dropped. He felt like he was far too uninvolved to be there; it was like new things were being mentioned every second and he couldn’t keep up anymore. At least it seemed that Dazai was shocked too, but he showed it with the twitch of his eyebrow. Much more subtle than Chuuya.

“What?” Edogawa smiled, knowing that his words would grant that reaction. “It certainly helps us have the upperhand here, does it not?”

“Okay, am I dumb or have you guys explained absolutely nothing this entire time? What’s the plan?” Chuuya finally spoke up, tired of not understanding anything. The entire conversation felt like Dazai and Edogawa going back and forth in some foreign language while Fyodor nodded along, the only other person understanding anything.

“My dad can go fly out to Tokyo and go to the daycare Elise stays at, since only a few of the main actors have interviews- that doesn’t include him,” he explained. Took him long enough. “Elise knows him already due to… old circumstances. He takes care of her sometimes while Mori’s away because even if Mori’s an asshole, my dad still cares about Elise. As long as he can convince her to pretend something bad has happened, or at least that she had an injury, Mori will rush right along to Tokyo without further questions. That’ll occupy his mind until it’s too late.”

“And we’re sure that Elise will agree?”

“Elise will agree to anything that causes her dad trouble,” Dazai smiled. “She might not know that he’s an awful person yet, but she sure as hell is a rebellious kid.”

When Chuuya shows up to the interview to see Dazai with a bright smile on his face, he knows that Mori’s gone. He’d gone to the hotel earlier that day- before Chuuya had even woken up- to get the rest of his things and check that Mori was out. Not that Chuuya thought he’d be able to access that information, but Dazai always had his ways. By the time Dazai got back to put his stuff in Chuuya’s room, Chuuya had already left.

“Turns out,” Dazai started talking, walking up to Chuuya the second they locked eyes. “I didn’t even need to check if he was gone. He sent me a text.”

The text in question simply explained that Mori was leaving until Elise was feeling all better (from her awful “concussion” that she got while playing with her friend) and that Dazai still had a contract to finish, regardless of whether or not Mori was physically present. He threatened to go to court over it, but it didn’t matter anyway; Mori would be ruined before he made it back to Yokohama.

“Good to see that he cares about my wellbeing as much as Elise’s,” he scoffed sarcastically as Chuuya read it.

“From what I’ve heard, he’d probably care a lot more if you were ten years younger,” Chuuya wrinkled his nose in disgust, but patted Dazai’s back comfortingly anyway.

“That’s both fair and accurate.”

With that, they made their way over to get their makeup and hair done for the interview- something that Chuuya didn’t know was going to happen. It was an interview; why were they providing him with the clothes he was supposed to wear? Aren’t these supposed to be like… actually seeing the actor? He guessed not.

“Nakahara, over here!” someone called and gestured to the seat he was meant to sit in. It’d been forever since another person did his makeup and he didn’t want to go through those awful sensory issues again. Plus, he already spent time that morning doing his own makeup, so there was really no use, was there?

“I’m alright. I’m wearing makeup.”

“We need to touch it up. It’s too bland.”

Chuuya was a lot of things, but bland wasn’t one of them. He grinded his teeth together to prevent himself from yelling at this poor worker. It was their job, but that didn’t mean he had the right to call Chuuya bland. Either way, he bit back his anger, “I think it’s fine and I’d rather not have this conversation. Now show me to my clothes before I get upset.”

“At least let me put on some false lashes. Or highlight.”

“No.”

“Nakahara, I apologize, but you-”

“He said no, so suck it up,” Dazai spoke from the chair that he was sitting in. His voice was cold, but his face was just casual, not even looking at them as he got his own makeup done. “I’m sure you wanna keep this job, no?”

“Oh- um- yes?”

“Then stop bothering him about makeup and escort him to his dressing room. He’s your superior; don’t forget that for a second.”

“Yes, Dazai, sir,” he suddenly nodded frantically, guiding Chuuya over to his dressing room, which had his clothes hanging up in it.

Even though he should be freaking out about his first interview, all he could think about was the way that Dazai stood up for him so easily. How could Dazai say that he was bad for Chuuya when he always did sweet stuff like this for him? If it really came down to it, he would’ve just gotten his makeup done- but Dazai demanded respect wherever he went and he used it in Chuuya’s favor. He didn’t have to do that.

Finally realizing that he’d just been smiling to himself for a few minutes, he decided to get ready. The clothes they’d picked out for him looked exactly like something he would’ve worn months ago, before everything went down. The ripped shirt, the leather jacket, the chains, the zippers, the hat- everything was exactly how he liked to dress. TV was really setting the impression that he was a hot bad boy, which he happily accepted. The only issue was that when he looked in the mirror, he almost wanted to cry. He gained weight since the last time he wore anything genuinely nice-looking and it was showing more than he wanted it to. Maybe he should skip dinner later. No- he was supposed to be healing, he would eat if he was hungry. (But he knew that his appetite would suddenly go down later. Or at least that’s what he’d tell Dazai and Tachihara if they decided to ask.)

This was his job though. He could do one interview dressed like this. Deep breaths- think about Dazai. Dazai would be right there with him, every step of the way. With that in mind, he stepped out of the dressing room to greet some of the workers. This interview would only be him and Dazai, though many others would include the other actors, and some of them just had two people paired together at a time talking.

“Tu bon?” Dazai whispered from behind Chuuya, making him jump at the sound. How did Dazai notice that Chuuya was off already?

“Oui, ce n’est rien,” he shook his head, hoping that Dazai ignored that he responded in French. If he was really feeling alright, he would’ve jumped back to Japanese.

“Promesse?”

“Oui.”

“D’accord,” the brunette touched Chuuya’s shoulder softly as if to say ‘I’m here’. It almost made Chuuya feel bad for not saying anything, but he didn’t want to bring down the mood right before the interview, so he just feigned confidence and did as he was directed.

He was put in a seat right next to Dazai, while the interviewer was to the right, further away from the actors. She looked kind enough- rather young too, but perhaps that was just the impression she gave because of the braids in her hair. As soon as they were told to start, Dazai’s demeanor did a 180 flip, going from a blank stare to a bright smile within milliseconds.

“Hello everyone! I’m Lucy Montgomery and I’m here today with Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya from ‘Stray Dogs’ to ask them questions about themselves and what to expect for the upcoming movie,” she smiled at the camera, then at the actors. “Would you like to introduce yourselves?”

Before Chuuya even had the chance to stress about whether he should speak first or not, Dazai started, “Hi guys. I’m Dazai Osamu. It’s wonderful to be here and to finally talk about this wonderful project we’ve spent the last months working on.”

“Nakahara Chuuya,” Chuuya smiled at the camera, feeling insanely awkward as he spoke. “I’m very excited to be here and have the chance to answer some questions for you.”

“Awesome,” Lucy looked down at her cards, reading off the first question. “First off, there’s the question that everyone has been asking: how did you guys manage to develop such good chemistry together? People have been talking non-stop about how passionate the trailers seem and we’re expecting more when it comes out, but we wanted to know what you did to get all of those sparks. No romance movie has ever made their main couple seem this realistic! But don’t tell anyone else I said that.”

How was Chuuya supposed to say that it was because he was hardly acting? Thankfully, Dazai started talking first, “It was natural for us. Most scenes of us we only had to film once because our own improvisations and additions were in character and added to the development of their relationship. I think that our director was happy he casted us after seeing how well we did on camera.”

“Even at callbacks, the chemistry was insane,” Chuuya added. “As soon as we finished acting out the scene, Dazai patted me on the back and told me that he looked forward to working with me.”

“I said that?” Dazai seemed surprised by his own words. “My cute little dog remembers everything.”

“I’m not your dog, as-” he stopped himself before he cursed. He knew that his face was red at Dazai saying that in front of what would be thousands (millions, even) of people, but he pretended that he wasn’t affected. “Jerk.”

Lucy giggled at their interaction, “I see what you guys mean. Even without acting, it seems like you two are genuine in your friendship. Speaking of which, when was your first time meeting?”

“It was at callbacks,” Dazai jumped in. “I saw him and I just had to go up and start talking, and then it turned out we were getting paired together for a chemistry check. Crazy how life works, isn’t it?”

Funny enough, Chuuya remembered their first meeting being a lot more violent than how Dazai described it, but he figured that Dazai had to keep up his nice persona, “We saw each other again not too long after while I was with my friends. It’s like fate was forcing us together.”

He met eyes with Dazai and saw the way Dazai’s breath hitched for just a second. Lucy obviously didn’t notice, because she just smiled back at them, “How cute! Do you guys have any fun stories together? On set or in general?”

The rest of the interview passed like so, them going on and laughing with each other, sharing half-truths for fear of revealing something the other didn’t want in public. They teased and joked the way they normally did, though neither of them wanted to be too agressive, for fear that the media would take it the wrong way. People were already convinced that Chuuya was his abusive boyfriend, so there was no need to give them more reason to believe that. By the time Lucy gave the last question, they were both more relaxed than they had been at the start.

“Since ‘Stray Dogs’ is a movie about finding yourself and your sexuality, do you mind sharing- this feels invasive,” Lucy looked at the staff behind the cameras with a mean glare. “I’m not making them answer this.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, what is it?” Chuuya assured, trying to make sure she didn’t get in trouble for caring about them. If Dazai didn’t want to answer, then Chuuya could do all the talking for them.

Looking at Chuuya, then back to the staff, and at the cards, she sighed before giving a smile, as if she was never upset in the first place. It’s all for TV, he understood, “Since ‘Stray Dogs’ is a movie about finding yourself and your sexuality, do you mind sharing any struggles you had when discovering your own sexualities? Feel free not to answer.”

Chuuya looked over at Dazai, who visibly tensed in his seat. Chuuya decided to start talking, “I think I always knew and I didn’t have much struggle with it. When I was young, most of the kids at my orphanage were homophobic, but I had no interest in romance back then. After I got adopted by my dads, I realized that there was no reason to dislike them for something as harmless as loving someone. So when I was sixteen and hooked up with a guy for the first time, I really didn’t care or deal with any issues over it.”

After a second- after looking at Dazai again- he continued talking.

“After moving to Japan was where most of the problems stemmed from, but I’m still a pretty outspoken person. If you don’t like gay people, just don’t talk to me. That’s my policy, unless they want to get punched or something. But I do understand that a lot of people come from less open households or have always struggled with their identity or get shit from people at school- sorry, can I say shit?”

Lucy nodded with a smile, encouraging him to go on. It could be bleeped out later, but it was obvious that people wanted him to keep going. So he did.

“Right, well… I know that people aren’t as fortunate as me, and can’t speak out about it like I do, but if anyone going through that is watching, then just know that I’m here. Even if I don’t know you, it’s important for you to know that you’re okay and you deserve the same love and happiness as everyone else. You’ll get through it, I promise.”

Dazai’s hand moved to hold Chuuya’s, rubbing his thumb over it gently.

“That was beautiful, Nakahara,” Lucy looked genuinely appreciative of his words, but after a moment, she coughed and started to read her notecards, “Thank you guys for joining us today, and please everyone watching, check out ‘Stray Dogs’, coming out on February fourteenth!”

They waved goodbye as the cameras cut.

Chapter Text

Right before the interview, Dazai went to the hotel.

He claimed that he had to grab a few things from his room, but those were purposefully left for this very moment. His own special step one involved getting the footage from the hotel, when he had his breakdown. No part of him indicated that he would be doing that, so when Ranpo mentioned it the previous day, he didn’t know what to do.

And when Chuuya asked him what else he needed, all he could do was lie. There were two glaring red reasons why Chuuya wasn’t allowed to know until it was all said and done. Firstly, he would definitely try to talk Dazai out of showing such a vulnerable tape in front of essentially the entire world. Chuuya knew that Dazai barely told anyone about what happened to him as a child, so he wouldn’t want Dazai to expose everything when it wasn’t totally necessary. But Dazai thought it was necessary. The second reason…

“Hello,” Dazai smiled as he walked up to the receptionist at the hotel with a smile. “I had a question about the room security cameras?”

“Yes, sir. What might that be?” she responded, returning Dazai’s smile.

“You’re allowed to access the one for your own room, right?”

“Absolutely. Room, name, and ID?” the lady got on her computer, ready to search up what Dazai was about to say. Unfortunately, Dazai didn’t have Mori’s ID, nor would they allow it if Dazai just used his own name, since everything was under Mori’s. Fortunately, though, Dazai was entirely prepared for this situation.

“Well, you see, it’s under Mori Ougai’s name. He’s my agent, you know, but he’s in Tokyo now, attending to his daughter. Since I’m here, he asked me to get the camera footage. But I completely understand if you can’t do that.” Dazai frowned for a second, then started to fan himself. “Gosh, am I going crazy or is it getting hot in here?”

He unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt and untucked it from his pants, noticing her eyes travel along his body.

“I mean… I’m sure it’s against your boss’ orders, but could you make an exception for me?” he asked with a sultry smile, eyes narrowing seductively. Dazai mastered the art of seducing when he was only sixteen, picking up women left and right ever since. “I’m sure I could arrange a reward for you, if you could send me a file of it.”

The lady’s eyes widened, breath hitching for a moment, “And what might that reward be?”

“I think you know, love.”

“When might I… get this reward?”

“As soon as I receive the recording.”

He gave her the email and she wasted no time sending the file over. Once he got the notification on his phone of the recording being sent, he dragged away from her work, finding the closest broom closet. The room became hot and sweaty within seconds and Dazai knew exactly how to reward someone. There was no joy in it for Dazai, unless you counted the footage, but he used this trick far too many times. He silenced the part of himself that told him he hadn’t used it since meeting Chuuya. That was irrelevant.

Nothing was bad, but nothing was good either. He froze up when she started trying to unravel his bandages, but he firmly told her that they would do it with the bandages on or not at all. Very few people had the honor to take off and put on his bandages. After he fixed them, they went back to making out and unbuttoning each other’s clothing. The same old routine, though when he was leaning down to kiss someone like that, all he could think of was how much he wanted someone else. (A particular red haired idiot. Not that he was thinking about that.)

After he was finished with her, he gave a final parting kiss- something deep that left her happy. It was nothing like his kiss with Chuuya (okay, fine. Maybe he was thinking about Chuuya). No sparks, no electricity, no passion. It was like Chuuya ruined other people for Dazai. After getting a taste, suddenly Dazai only wanted Chuuya; no one could be nearly as good as him. But he would never kiss Chuuya again anyway, so he needed to get used to the dull kisses that he once thought were normal.

Whatever. He’d get over it.

All he had to do from there was straighten out his hair and run a hand along his clothes to get rid of the wrinkles. He also splashed some water in his face so he didn’t look as fucked out as he thought he did. Chuuya wasn’t allowed to know. Not only because he didn’t know if Chuuya meant his confession romantically and wanted to make sure that he knew that Dazai was on the market and is way more serious about Chuuya than he ever thought he could be about a person, but also because Chuuya would worry. If he knew that Dazai learned to sell his body at the age of sixteen, he would worry about Dazai and his relationship with sex and all of that dumb stuff that he doesn’t care about. It didn’t matter that he didn’t get pleasure from it- all that mattered was that he got what he wanted- be it drugs, whiskey, or random shit.

He knew that it stemmed from the trauma he faced when he was… wait. If hotels had security cameras, assuming that they’re turret cameras, was there a possibility that he could find the footage from seven years ago? Could he find out who caused him all of the pain he’d gone through? If they saved it somewhere, he could seduce his way into getting it and…

No. They probably wouldn’t save the footage, and there was no way he could go to Tokyo anyway. And what would he even do with the information? It was too late to take her to court or anything. Would he even want to take her to court? He didn’t know. It was dumb anyway. He should just get to the interview.

The interview itself went ordinary as usual, happy that Chuuya understood what not to talk about. Part of him just wanted to break out in French at certain points when Chuuya was obviously uncomfortable, but for the sake of the show and Chuuya’s privacy, he didn’t.

When Chuuya started talking about coming out though? Dazai felt tears start to well up in his eyes and he wanted to pull Chuuya into a hug. Sure, Chuuya was talking to the fans, but Dazai had never felt more acknowledged. If he wasn’t thinking as hard as he had been, he would’ve come out right then and there, admitting that he was bisexual for the entire world to know. But he instead just held Chuuya’s hand, a silent notion that meant that he heard that and he was touched.

“That was… sweet,” Dazai spoke as soon as filming was over, not daring to look at Chuuya.

“Thanks-”

“I am so sorry about that!” Lucy came up to the two and bowed. “I should’ve looked over the questions beforehand and then I would’ve seen that they asked that and even assumed your sexualities, which is awful. And it forced you out when you’ve been famous for like just a week and already had awful rumors spread and- I’m just sorry.”

“Hey, I promise, it’s okay,” Chuuya assured her, taking his hand from Dazai’s to wave them dismissively. “I wouldn’t have answered it if I wasn’t comfortable.”

“I’m sorry to you too, Dazai,” she looked at Dazai who immediately went from persona to persona, trying to find which one to use.

“Don’t worry, love,” he smiled at her with the shrug of his shoulder. “I’m straight anyway, so I just felt it wasn’t something I should answer.”

“Alright. If you two promise. Next time you guys come on here, I’ll look over the questions and talk with my boss about it, okay?”

“Thank you,” Chuuya smiled as she walked away- the second she was out of sight, he turned back to Dazai. “Tu veux parler?”

“Non, tout est bien,” he shook his head. If there was anything to talk about, he wouldn’t want to do it in front of so many people, even if it was in a language none of them could understand.

“D’accord,” but he said it the way Dazai had earlier. ‘I’m not gonna push you, but I know something’s wrong’. Stop understanding- stop looking for the ticks and differences. Stop caring.

They parted ways to get back into their normal clothes, Dazai pretending not to notice the way Chuuya played with his hoodie strings nervously as they walked back to his apartment. But they both were feeling weird that day, so if Dazai said something, it was almost like an invitation to talk about his own feelings. Which he was certainly not going to do.

Chuuya was the one who started the conversation on the walk back, speaking hesitantly and almost mumbling, “Do you call everyone ‘love’ when you flirt with them?“

“Hm?” Dazai barely processed the question at first, but then froze for the tiniest millisecond. “Oh, yeah. Why?”

The answer wasn’t really yes- he rarely used it. It was only when he really wanted something that he said that, but he was stuck from earlier. He wasn’t about to admit that to Chuuya, definitely not now.

“Cool. Just wondering,” he refused to look at Dazai, eyes pointed straight to the ground as he lazily kicked a rock.

“Yeah,” Dazai nodded, keeping pace with Chuuya while he observed the upset behavior, “Cool.”

“Splendid.”

“Fantastic.”

“Awesome.”

“Perfect.”

“Do I mean anything to you?” Chuuya suddenly turned to face Dazai, eyes almost pleading with him. His voice was firm, yet scared- a combination that Dazai hadn’t heard before. Something finally registered in Dazai’s head: Chuuya was jealous. But another more terrifying thing also registered in Dazai’s head: he called Chuuya love before.

It never mattered in the moment- he never gave it a second thought when he was doing it- but what did that mean for him subconciously? Did that mean that he just wanted something from Chuuya this entire time? Was he really just playing Chuuya to get what he really wanted- what that thing was, Dazai didn’t know. All that he did know was that his fears were just coming true. He was bad for Chuuya. He wouldn’t treat Chuuya well. Chuuya deserved someone better. Someone good for him.

Dazai choked up, suddenly finding himself unable to breathe.

“It’s okay if not, I was just… I dunno,” Chuuya shook his head, looking away anxiously. “I thought that maybe I did, but I understand that it was just me being dumb.”

No.

He wasn’t being dumb- Dazai cared about him more than anything. Dazai would give anything to make Chuuya happy or to see him laugh. Dazai wanted to tell Chuuya that he made Dazai feel alive, feel like a human. There were a million things that Dazai’s brain begged him to tell Chuuya, but none of that came out. Instead,
he made what was possibly the dumbest decision possible. His heart took over.

Shit.

Holy shit.

Fuck.

Dazai grabbed Chuuya’s cheek and kissed him.

It was everything he thought it would be and more. Everything that he remembered from the first kiss was there, sparks and passion and electricity and everything. His heart was going a million miles a minute, pumping against his chest like it wanted to stick itself right next to Chuuya’s. It was so much more chaste than any kiss he ever had, yet it contained so much more emotion. There was no tongue, no hand taking off his shirt, no one reaching for his bandages, no pulling at his hair, nothing. It was just them, lips together and hearts together.

He felt Chuuya’s arms wrap around his neck, but they just stayed there, like a firm reminder that Chuuya was with him. They burned together as their lips connected and parted over and over again, like they needed each other to live. Were they there for ten seconds or ten years? Dazai didn’t know, nor did he care. He could go his entire life kissing Chuuya and never get tired of it.

This was humanity. Dazai felt so, so human in that moment. He felt emotion burning inside of him: want, happiness, love. This was what he imagined in his room as a child, when he still had faith in the world. He never thought he’d get that faith back, but it was right here in the form of Nakahara Chuuya. Chuuya. Chuuya. He could repeat Chuuya’s name in his head for eternity. This was true bliss.

Dazai’s thumb brushed over Chuuya’s cheek, running along his freckles. His beautiful freckles. Dazai opened his eyes with that thought in his mind, but suddenly everything hit him at once.

He was kissing Chuuya.

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

As his senses got back to him, he shoved Chuuya off of him, breathing heavily from the kiss, but also because he was panicking. What did he just do? Why did he just do that? His vision was blurring. Was he crying? No. Fuck. No.

“Dazai?” he heard Chuuya’s concern somewhere in the fuzz of his mind.

“No! No. No,” Dazai shook his head, straightening his arm in front of him to stop Chuuya from coming near. “Don’t- no- stop.”

“It’s okay, Dazai. It’s me. It’s Chuuya.”

“I know who it fucking is!” he snapped harshly. Fuck. He took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm himself down. “I’m- I- Chuuya-”

Chuuya, still keeping his distance, called softly to him. “Shh, don’t worry. I’m here. I’ve got you”

“I’m sorry,” Dazai finally cracked out, then he did what he always did best.

He ran.

- - -

What just happened?

Chuuya wished that he had some understanding of the events that played out in front of him, but he was entirely lost. What were the facts? At first, he was feeling kinda upset for many reasons and one of them was that he noticed Dazai calling Lucy ‘love’ which is totally fine, but did make Chuuya feel a tiny bit like he didn’t matter to Dazai. So he talked to Dazai about it and when he asked if he meant anything, there was no response. Cool. He still understood, even if he had no clue why Dazai couldn’t give a simple yes or no answer. Then Chuuya backtracked, because no response is a response and that response was no, and that was when Dazai kissed him.

Cool. He still followed a little.

He wasn’t totally sure of why Dazai kissed him, but God, it was good, so he had no complaints. Maybe that was Dazai’s way of saying that Chuuya did matter to him; it seemed that he had a hard time talking to people most of the time. So sure, he still understood everything there.

Why did Dazai shove him off and start crying?

The first thought that Chuuya had was that Dazai had been so traumatized from his past that even kissing reminded him of her. He thought that Chuuya was her last time he had a panic attack, so it made somewhat sense. But when Chuuya assured him, he snapped and cried harder. That was new. That’s where Dazai lost him.

“What did I do?” Chuuya didn’t realize that he was crying when he walked in the door.

“Chuuya?” Tachihara looked over at the crying man who had barely closed the door behind him before sitting down against it. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I thought he liked me,” he admitted, knowing that Tachihara wouldn’t totally follow. “He kissed me. He fucking kissed me.”

“Who? Dazai?”

Chuuya nodded his head frantically, the tears falling one after another, not knowing what to do or how to think. “I don’t know what I did wrong!”

“Okay, okay, deep breaths, okay?” he demonstrated, putting a hand on Chuuya’s chest to ground him. “Let’s calm down before anything else.”

“He left me,” Chuuya explained through harsh hiccups and failed attempts and normal breathing. “He kissed me and left me.”

“Do you know why he left?”

For some reason, that question just made Chuuya cry harder. How could Dazai show him heaven and then drop him into hell so quickly after? It was simply cruel. Chuuya wanted to punch something or someone; all the years of working on his anger issues were just leaving. He wanted to break things or hurt someone. He needed that relief.

With that thought in mind, he started going down a depressing rabbit hole, “Am I too much? Did he just- just want to kiss me in the moment and then realized that I was… me?”

“If that was the case, then I’d punch the light outta him,” Tachihara said in a genuine voice which made Chuuya both want to laugh and cry.

“Not if I do first,” he laughed, but it came out more like a cry than he wanted. Fuck, why was he so pathetic? No wonder Dazai cried after he realized he kissed Chuuya- Chuuya wouldn’t want to kiss himself either. He hit his head against the door as hard as he could. The ache spread through his skull, feeling like the sharp stimulation he needed to feel to wake himself up.

News flash: Dazai didn’t care about him.

It was just in the heat of the moment; Chuuya created this romance book scene and Dazai took the opportunity. Or maybe Chuuya really fucking sucked at kissing and he’d been too caught up in his own pleasure that he didn’t notice Dazai hating it. Or he remembered how disgusting Chuuya looked in those clothes from earlier and didn’t want to kiss a guy that ugly. Or Dazai’s bi awakening had been gone for too long and he needed to kiss another guy- Chuuya didn’t fucking know. Of all the reasons that Dazai would run from him, Chuuya couldn’t figure out which awful theory made the most sense. (He chose to ignore the idea that Dazai was scared of his own feelings. That gave him too much hope. He was too scared of being let down again. Besides, the others seemed far more plausible, considering it was Chuuya he kissed, of all people.)

“You know what we’re gonna do?” Tachihara rubbed along his shoulders and arms as if giving a light massage. When Chuuya tried to breath and look up at him, he continued, “We’re gonna pour some glasses of nice, fancy wine and get out our punching bag until you’re feeling better. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” he nodded through sharp breaths. Part of him wanted to cry harder just because of how good Tachihara was to him. “Yeah, that sounds really nice.”

Apparently Tachihara had been saving the wine for Chuuya’s leave, since it was a nice brand and old bottle, so Chuuya felt insanely worse for making him open it early. There were some points that Chuuya cried harder simply because he realized that he was crying and that made him feel worse. It felt like every single bit of pain he’d felt recently just was let out- like someone just ripped off his bandaid and now the blood was spilling more than ever before.

The wine was gone embarrassingly quick. And despite his awful alcohol tolerance, he still managed to be balanced enough to go at his punching bag until his hands ached. Everything ached. But God, hitting stuff really helped.

As the night went on, tears came and left, but the worst part came when Chuuya had made it to his room alone and he was staring at his ceiling. Though it was short-lived, talking to Dazai always helped him feel more comfortable in his own room. Even made him feel like sleeping when the conversation ended, which was always difficult for Chuuya. He spent the nights on his futon, insisting that Dazai took the bed over and over until he finally obliged. Maybe Chuuya should sleep on the futon again, just incase Dazai came back and wanted to sleep in the bed like normal.

Just doing that made him feel better and worse at the same time. One of his dumb blankets was draped over him, but it didn’t feel as soft as it normally did. Hesitantly, he looked over to his bed where Dazai’s blanket still sat. Fuck. (He grabbed it.)

When he was left alone with his thoughts and Dazai’s scent, his brain resorted to thinking of explanations again. Maybe he had it all wrong; maybe Dazai was trying to push him away to hurt himself. Right before exposing Mori? It seemed unlikely, but he didn’t fucking expect it last time either. With that as the only thought in his tipsy head, he called Dazai.

Ring.

R-

Voicemail.

Cool, so Dazai was alright enough to decline Chuuya’s call. That at least meant that he wasn’t dead. Even though it was upsetting, Chuuya still felt a weight off of his chest knowing that Dazai was safe. It was pathetic how much Chuuya cared about this guy. All of this for what? To kiss him, get pushed away, and then move to France?

It wasn’t worth it.

But Dazai was always worth it.

“Hey, Dazai,” Chuuya spoke into the voicemail, too tired and tipsy to care about the consequences. “Why did you run off? Am I a bad kisser? Am I not pretty enough? Do you not like me? Did you realize that it was me and regret everything?” He laughed. “I’m sorry. I don’t want your pity. Honestly, I kinda wanna punch you right now, but my fists hurt from the punching bag, so you’re off the hook for a while. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I don’t want our friendship to be over. I might’ve screwed it all up, but I didn’t want to. Also, your blanket is hella comfy.”
He let out a sigh, rubbing his face in the soft material. “I’ll see ya… probably tomorrow. Phase three or whatever.”

A yawn fell from his mouth. Maybe the punching bag really did exhaust him out. In his half asleep mind, he said the only thing he even thought of saying.

“I love you.”

With that, Chuuya stopped the voicemail and fell asleep, knowing that his eyes would be swollen the next day.

Little did he know that on the other side of the line, Dazai smiled sadly at his voicemail, holding his pillow as he listened.

Chapter Text

Step three. It was all in Dazai’s hands now.

At the meeting, this was one of the less debated thoughts: how they were going to expose the truth. Nikolai suggested some weird different ideas that made Chuuya just furrow his eyebrows and look away in disgust, but overall most people agreed that it should be a post throughout all of their socials, making sure it spread as far as possible.

“I’ll do it,” Dazai raised his hand lazily. “Since it’s in regards to me and my little dog here, I should be the one to address it. They’ll trust it more if it comes from me.”

“Would it be in an interview? Or are you just gonna make your own video?” Ango asked.

“I’ll make a video and post it, show it everywhere. It won’t have to be much- just say that Mori Ougai is a lying rat and that he deserves every bad thing in the world, then put the evidence alongside it. Not too hard.”

“But that’s no fun,” Nikolai pouted.

“But it’s efficient and easy. Makes my job a lot easier,” Edogawa smiled. “The more work Dazai does, the less I have to do.”

So yeah, it was all up to Dazai from here. And they had to pray that Mori didn’t take it down until enough people had seen it.

When Chuuya woke up, he barely wanted to get himself out of bed. He didn’t have any interviews nor did he have to work at the cafe today, so what was even the point? Normally he got up after recieving a text from Dazai offering to go one place or another, but he knew that that wouldn’t be happening. He hit his head out of anger, upset that he reminded himself of yesterday.

But more important than his own feelings was Dazai’s safety and making sure that Mori went down.

“Nakahara Chuuya!” A voice called from the other side of his door, banging on it harshly. Hard enough that Chuuya was shocked it didn’t break. “Get off your ass and check your phone!”

“The fuck do you want?” he huffed in response, getting up to open his door. Tachihara had a wide smile on his face that it was obvious he was trying to hide, which Chuuya was almost endeared by, but it was too early for Chuuya to appreciate anything.

“Nothing,” Tachihara sang. “I think that you should just really, really- like super duper- check your phone! For no particular reason. But yeah, you should check like… I dunno- any social media? Just for fun. No reason. Just please. Please.”

His eyes widened as he talked, urging Chuuya to look at whatever it was. What could get him this fucking excited about going online? If it was the whole Mori plan, there was no reason for Tachihara to be this excited over it. Right?

Chuuya just rolled his eyes and grabbed his phone off of the charger, then fell back onto his futon. Tachihara went to close the door happily, “I’ll leave you to it!”

Weirdo.

Fine. Chuuya opened his phone to a million texts from almost everyone he knew, all of them sending links to different websites and asking if he knew about this and more. Even the group chat they’d made for the meeting was blowing up, frantically wondering if this was part of the plan. Interesting. (Perhaps the most interesting part was that there were still no messages from Dazai, despite all the times his name was spammed in the chat. Was he still just ignoring Chuuya? That made his heart clench for a second, but he shook it out of his head. Just watch the damn video.)

The video started up, showing Dazai sitting there in his hotel room. His face was unreadable, but the way his lips just slightly pursed told Chuuya that he was nervous. After a second, he started speaking. “Hi, everyone. As I’m sure you already know, I’m Dazai Osamu and I thought it was time for me to speak up on certain rumors involving my… costar, Nakahara Chuuya, as well as the source of said rumors.”

He cleared his throat, “For those of you who are unaware, there have been recent allegations that I have been in an abusive relationship with him for months, which I’d like to start by saying is entirely untrue. Chuu- Nakahara is by far one of the best people I’ve met and has been nothing but loving toward me and everyone he’s ever encountered. I can only hope that I can one day reach the level of humanity and compassion that he has.”

Chuuya swallowed harshly. Why was Dazai spending his time talking Chuuya up? All he had to do was present Mori’s lies and call it a day- there was no need for any of this. It just made Chuuya feel more confused about yesterday. More hurt.

“There were a few pieces of ‘evidence’ released to the press, but all of it has been taken out of context. Yes, I am a recovering alcoholic and yes, Nakahara did offer to drink with me that night. That was entirely my fault, since I’m the one who had the whiskey in my room in the first place- I’d even opened my own already and was drinking before he got there. He was entirely unaware of my situation. We’d only known each other for about a month at the time and we never had an intimate conversation until that night. You cannot fault him for what he didn’t know. If you continue to blame him for this, then you are not my ally.”

Why was he talking so much? The audio of Mori was supposed to entirely explain how it was taken out of context itself- what was Dazai doing? Why was Dazai trying to protect him like this?

“Secondly, there was a clip of me in the middle of my own breakdown, shoving him off of me in my panic. That was a private moment and I will not forgive the news outlits for spreading it, nor my agent for sharing it with them. But I told myself that I would stop running from my past and my traumas, and hopefully I’ll be able to help someone else out there by talking about my own experiences.”

Huh?

Chuuya’s eyes widened as Dazai continued talking. He was really okay with admitting what happened to him in front of the entire world? Dazai hadn’t even told someone as close to him as Yosano. Now he was willing to share it with strangers. This was vulnerability that he never expected from Dazai.

“I was raped at the age of fifteen.” Dazai admitted for the first time. He actually acknowledged that it was rape- something he wasn’t able to do just a month ago. Chuuya was proud. “Someone drugged me in my hotel room and then proceeded to have sex with me while I was too weak to even tell her no, nonetheless push her off. I admit that I haven’t been the same since then. And after my hotel got leaked to the public, my paranoia has been awful.”

As Chuuya listened, he couldn’t help but notice the way Dazai’s eyes got glossy, just for a second. He really didn’t need to say all of this. If he really felt like addressing how Chuuya wasn’t abusive, he could’ve just said that it was taken out of context. There was no need to push himself if he was uncomfortable.

“My agent refused to let me be seen with Nakahara after certain rumors started up months ago, but I always have a hard time following instructions,” Dazai chuckled to himself. “We continued to meet up in secret, and on one of those occasions, he accidentally took my jacket home with him. He had to sneak through my window to return it, but of course, someone tapping on my window in the middle of the night can be a little scary. Nakahara had no clue about what happened and was just trying to keep me safe incase my agent saw him walk through the normal door, so once again, there’s no need to blame him. I let him in, but my panic got worse and I started imagining that he was the girl from all those years ago. And yet, instead of leaving me or yelling or anything like that, he stayed there and grabbed a blanket for me.”

Dazai smiled as the first tear finally rolled down his cheek. Chuuya hated to admit that he started crying too.

“Chuuya stayed with me that night and made sure I was okay. He’s someone who has never pushed my boundaries or intentionally hurt me or would even think about doing those things. I might not even be here today if it weren’t for him.”

After a moment, Dazai wiped the few tears that had fallen while he was talking. Then he cleared his throat again. “I have the video with proof that this is the truth put at the end of my talking. You need to believe me when I say that Nakahara Chuuya does not deserve these allegations against him.”

Another moment.

“As lightly touched on before, my agent, Mori Ougai, leaked these out of context clips to the press and had them write an article on this. For the reason why? I think you would rather hear it from him.”

From Dazai’s phone came Mori’s voice, sharp and manipulative. “I recommend that you listen to me if you want Nakahara to have a chance at a good acting career. Though I suppose it could truly ruin his chances at any career in the spotlight, which is where he’s meant to be. He’s very talented.”

Chuuya shivered at the compliment. For some reason, despite loving praise, when it came out of Mori’s mouth, it just felt like a threat. The way he used his words just made Chuuya uncomfortable.

“Don’t talk about him the way you used to talk about me.”

“Are you getting jealous?” A laugh. “Don’t worry, you’re still my favorite actor.”

A scoff. “So what do you want me to do? Work for you for the rest of my life?”

“I knew that you had a soft spot for Nakahara. I want you to avoid him. Your relationship is entirely work; there’s no reason the press need to suspect anything more.” Dazai had a soft spot for him? This was Chuuya’s first time hearing this, plus his first time realizing that this was the dirt that Dazai mentioned Mori having in the note. Dazai worked so hard just to make sure that Chuuya’s future wasn’t ruined? That was what this was? Chuuya’s heart was crumbling the more that he watched- he didn’t want to make Dazai feel any more pain than he’d already gone through.

“I’m already going to be telling them that I’m dating Akiko. What’s the purpose in cutting him off completely?”

“That’s easy.” Silence. Uncomfortable silence, just for a second. “You’re an actor. You can’t afford to have weaknesses. And that boy… he’s yours.”

Chuuya… was Dazai’s weakness? What the hell happened last night then? Did Dazai care more than he let on? (Who was Chuuya kidding? He knew that Dazai cared more than he let on- he told Chuuya he didn’t care about him just so that he could be alone to try and kill himself. But Chuuya didn’t know that he meant that much to Dazai.)

The recording ended there and Dazai licked his teeth awkwardly. “So, yeah. Mori Ougai is a lying asshole who doesn’t deserve to have a job. This is not the only time he’s used manipulation to his advantage- for example, the court case against him in regard to his pedophilia conducted by my close friend, Yosano Akiko, which she lost. Despite having all of the evidence, Akiko wasn’t able to convince the judge simply because of Mori buying them off. He is a groomer, a liar, a pedophile, and so much more.”

When he thought that the video was about to end, Dazai started talking again.

“And just for the record, Yosano Akiko and I are just friends and we have never been anything more, despite what I told the press. It was to attract attention away from the rumors of Chuuya and I,” another pause. “But despite everything, I do have a lot I need to say about and to Chuuya. So I really hope that you’re watching this.”

A deep breath.

“A while ago, I told Chuuya that I was bad for him- that I wouldn’t treat him well and that he should stop caring about me because it would only hurt him. I think that I proved that based on… very recent actions. But something crazy has been happening ever since I met him. It’s like all of a sudden, I want to be someone who deserves his love.”

As if Dazai ever didn’t deserve it. As if Chuuya hadn’t loved him for a second. Chuuya wished that he could tell Dazai over and over again that he loved him. He would do anything for Dazai if Dazai simply asked.

“Yesterday, he asked me if I call everyone I flirt with ‘love’. And the answer is no, but I told him yes. Normally, I just use it when I want something from someone and that’s why I froze up when he asked me if I cared about him. I realized that I’ve been calling him love for months and I was scared- I was so scared that I’ve been subconciously wanting something from him and had just been manipulating him to get it.”

Dazai’s voice cracked as he spoke and Chuuya knew where this was going. He knew that Dazai hadn’t been manipulating him this entire time. Despite only knowing Dazai for almost four months, he knew Dazai.

“After I went home, I really thought about it. And to answer your question, Chuuya, yes, I care about you. I call you love, not because I want something from you, but because, crazily enough, I love you. I never say sorry, but fuck, I’m so sorry about what happened. I want to become someone who deserves you. I think that this video is the first step to that.”

One final moment.

“So, yeah. My name is Dazai Osamu, Mori Ougai deserves the worst, I’m bisexual, and horrendously in love with Nakahara Chuuya. Thank you.”

And at the end of the video was the proof of what happened in the hotel room all that time ago. Holy shit. Dazai really… Holy shit

All Chuuya could do was send a text. He needed to see Dazai. He needed to talk to Dazai.

‘park. now.’

…

‘I’ll be there’

By the time Chuuya got there, Dazai was standing nervously against a fence, looking intensely at his shoes. Was he nervous? Cute. Chuuya knew that he looked like shit and didn’t even bother getting ready that day, but he couldn’t begin to care. Dazai Osamu said that he loved Nakahara Chuuya. The world knew that Dazai loved Chuuya. That was all that mattered. (But it did make Chuuya feel slightly more concious seeing how beautiful Dazai looked. Maybe he should’ve done himself up a little bit. What if Dazai regretted it the minute he saw how digusting Chuuya looked? No. No. He just said that he loved Chuuya in front of the world. Remember that. There was nothing to be worried about.)

“Asshole!” Chuuya smiled as he called to Dazai, who immediately looked up with a gasp at the voice. It was like seeing Dazai took away all of his worries in an instant. It was crazy how Dazai made him worry so much, yet his presence relaxed Chuuya’s mind.

“Chuuya…” he called exhasperatedly as Chuuya ran into his arms. Without even thinking about it, not even a second thought, he pulled Dazai down by his shirt, locking their lips together.

Was Chuuya going insane or did every kiss with Dazai somehow manage to get better? Dazai was obviously shocked by the firm pull- or perhaps by the kiss itself- because he just gasped as Chuuya put their lips together. After about a second, Dazai wrapped his arms around Chuuya’s waist and kissed back. He followed Chuuya’s rhythm perfectly, breathing lightly against Chuuya’s lips. Yet it was still as chaste as the previous day. How Dazai managed to make him feel so good without even using his tongue, Chuuya didn’t know. Gosh, Dazai was a damn good kisser. Holy shit, he knew what he was doing. About a second later, Chuuya lightly tapped Dazai off of him.

“This is fine, right? You’re good?” he knew that he looked worried, but he was. He didn’t mean to force Dazai into something, especially not after everything he’d been through. Dazai needed to want it as much as Chuuya did. (Not that Chuuya thought that anyone could want anything as much as Chuuya wanted Dazai. Dazai was like oxygen to him- Dazai was his water, his wine. He needed more and more.)

Dazai nodded with a light smile on his lips, sounding breathless, “Yeah. Better than good. So much better than good.”

“Good.” Chuuya nodded back, reciprocating the smile.

And their lips connected once again, going after each other as if they’d die without it. Maybe it was just because Dazai was the first person he kissed while sober, but it was so much better than any kiss he’d experienced with anyone else. Kissing Dazai made Chuuya feel like he was drunk. It was dizzying, it was burning, it was electric. It was good. There was no other way to describe it. Their lips were puzzle pieces, fitting together and completing the perfect picture.

“You like me like… romantically, right?” Dazai breathed as he pulled away a moment later. “I didn’t misinterpret anything?”

“Obviously, idiot,” Chuuya laughed, one of his hands moving from Dazai’s shirt to his cheek, holding him gently, then lightly slapping him. “Now shut up and kiss me again.”

“Can do.”

And again. They were one soul, their bodies combining together at that moment. Every moment passed so slowly, as if the world had simply stopped moving, as if everything had gone still other than the two of them. It was Dazai and Chuuya against the world. Why couldn’t they be together like this for eternity? No- he wasn’t going to think about that. Not when Dazai’s hot breath was tingling Chuuya’s lip. Not when Dazai’s hands were rubbing at his waist. Not when Dazai’s heart was bumping against Chuuya’s.

When they finally parted, they still stayed right next to each other, holding each other close there. Just staring into each others’ eyes as if they’d seen the most beautiful thing in the world. Dazai was trying. And sure, Chuuya had gotten hurt. Sure, it would happen again. But Dazai was going to make an effort and that was more than Chuuya even wanted. More than Chuuya could have even imagined.

He wrapped his arms around Dazai’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug. Chuuya knew that he was fighting back tears, but he refused to let himself acknowledge how embarrassing and pathetic that was. What kind of loser would cry after something as small as that? (The answer is Chuuya. Chuuya knew that nothing about that was small. This was a giant step for Dazai, one that Chuuya didn’t even think would happen a few hours ago.) “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I’m sorry,” Dazai responded, holding Chuuya tighter too. His voice was as cracked as Chuuya’s. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are,” he trusted Dazai. There was nothing he trusted more than Dazai. It was like Chuuya figured out every single one of his tells, and there wasn’t a single part of him that was lying. He was sorry. Chuuya decided to joke to lighten the mood, “You’re lucky that I’m so nice.”

“I am,” the brunette admitted, voice genuine. Stop being so sweet. Shit. “You can’t begin to imagine how lucky I am.”

Once they finally let go of each other, Chuuya stared longingly at Dazai for a few seconds, smiling as he looked. Then he landed a harsh punch against his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Dazai exclaimed, pouting as he rubbed his shoulder. The pout was his joking one- Chuuya wasn’t worried. He wouldn’t actually hurt Dazai that badly; just as badly as he deserved it. “What was that for?”

“That was for yesterday,” Chuuya flicked his hand a few times. It still hurt from the previous night’s ‘boxing practice’. He pretended that his face wasn’t still burning red from the kiss as he spoke. At least he should pretend to be cool. “And it’s still sad that you respond to being called an asshole.”

“I looked up when I heard your voice!” he scoffed. “If I hear my dog, I’m gonna look for him. Meanie.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say,” the redhead rolled his eyes. He started walking, which made Dazai look at him questioningly. “Wanna go back to your hotel room?”

“Oh, my! Wait until at least the third date! What kind of person do you think I am?” a dramatic gasp left Dazai’s lips as he put a hand to his chest righteously. What a loser. (What a cute loser.)

“Shut up,” Chuuya sighed, pulling him into another quick kiss.

Why was he such a good kisser? Even a fucking peck made him feel pleasure rush through his whole body. Dazai was some kind of god or something and Chuuya was both very happy and extremely angry with it. He really needed to go back to therapy before he accidentally punched Dazai for being too hot one day.

“I’m gonna look forward to getting you to shut that damn mouth like this,” he smiled at Dazai as soon as their lips parted. “Now hurry up or I’m gonna leave you standing here like an idiot.”

“I can’t leave my dog to walk alone!” Dazai rushed after Chuuya. “Wait up! Bad dog, bad!”

“I’m not your damn dog!”

“Yup! You are- no denying it anymore!” he jumped on Chuuya, wrapping his arms around Chuuya as he was dragged along. “Mine.”

“Possessive idiot,” Chuuya hoped that he wasn’t smiling as big as it felt like he was while he rolled his eyes. He was so embarrassing.

“Mine!”

Chapter Text

“Well done.”

Mori Ougai stood in the doorway of Dazai’s hotel room, smiling at the two of them on the bed, too close to be just friends. Chuuya tried to move away at the sound of his voice, but Dazai’s arm held him in place as he glared daggers at Mori.

“Very beautiful performance that you put up, indeed,” he nodded, looking at his nails as he spoke. “Nakahara knows that you’re just manipulating him for more attention, right? Gosh, I almost feel bad for him.”

The way he spoke was as if Chuuya wasn’t in the room, which made his blood boil. Who was this guy to say shit like this? Especially after everyone already knew that he did nothing but lie and cheat people out of the lives they could’ve had. Part of him wanted to just get up and punch Mori in the face, but Dazai’s firm arm kept him in place still.

“What do you want?” Dazai looked at him blankly.

“What don’t I want?” Mori retorted, finally making eye contact with Dazai. It was like you could see the lasers they pointed at each other through their eyes, like the world’s most suspenseful staring contest. “You know I could press charges for getting a hold of my phone like that. Gogol should’ve been more slick.”

“I certainly think he was slick enough,” the brunette gave a tight smile. “I mean, we did get it long enough to gather what we needed. You really aren’t as vigilant as they say.”

“You talk all tough, but you know that you can’t escape me, Osamu. My credibility may have gone down, but trust me, I have more than enough true information on my back about you and every single one of your friends. Say, have Sakaguchi and Oda been looking for a new house? Because they really should if they don’t want people crowding around it anytime soon.”

“It’ll be fun seeing you try to release that information when you’re in prison for three years.”

“Who says that the press hasn’t already received said information?”

Chuuya felt shivers go up his back at Mori’s words- he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. There were so many issues that would be caused just by people knowing where they lived. What were they supposed to do here?

“You’re bluffing,” Dazai called with no hesitation. “Quite a low blow, but I suppose that’s expected of you.”

“How would you know? I could be telling the truth and your dear friends would be put through even more pain. Maybe you’d finally succeed at killing yourself then.”

“If I were you, I’d bluff too. That’s how I know,” he stared straight in Mori’s eyes, narrowing them as if he were aiming a gun to his head. “And I have a few things to get done before I die, so you might have to just hear about it from jail.”

“Rather bold of you, Osamu. You’ve grown so much since you were a child.”

“Yeah, well, when your life gets destroyed by someone you thought cared about you, you grow up pretty damn fast.”

“I’ve done nothing to you that the world wouldn’t do. All I did was prepare you for the tragedy of this life; there’s no need to blame me for simply caring about you.”

“You don’t!” Chuuya finally snapped, unable to bite his tongue this time. He pulled himself out of Dazai’s arms, standing up and facing Mori. “You care about yourself and you’d ruin him over and over if it meant you’d benefit. Don’t say that you care about him when you haven’t even thought twice about how he might feel. Where were you when he was downing pills and cutting his arms? Where the fuck were you, huh?”

“I don’t recommend you speak to me so distastefully, Nakahara.”

“How cute. You think I give a shit about what you ‘recommend’,” Chuuya scoffed, cracking his knuckles. He was gonna punch this man and nothing was gonna stop him.

“Chuuya, back off,” Dazai spoke up firmly.

“Why the fuck should I?”

“No, I think you should try it. See what happens,” Mori smiled, taking a step closer to Chuuya. Dazai immediately shot up, getting between them as if he were protecting Chuuya. Not that Chuuya needed protection- he would’ve been offended at the implication if he wasn’t touched that Dazai offered it. And if he wasn’t too focused on not punching Mori in the face.

“It’s a legal matter now. We can’t have you hurting him- that only plays against you,” Dazai explained, not taking his eyes off of Mori. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Chuuya and I will be going.”

“So soon? I haven’t even offered you tea.”

“Poison some other unsuspecting ten-year-old, thanks,” he wrinkled his nose as he spoke, grabbing Chuuya’s wrist and dragging him away from Mori and out of the room. The grip hurt and Dazai’s nails dug harshly into Chuuya’s skin.

“Dazai,” he called as they walked, but Dazai just kept leading him down the hall to the elevator. He tried again, louder this time, “Dazai!”

When Dazai clicked back into reality, he just took a breath and let go of Chuuya’s hand, not saying anything about it. The elevator was filled with awkward silence as Dazai just crossed his arms and Chuuya rubbed at his wrist.

“Well,” Chuuya hummed, only casting side glances at Dazai. “That was something.”

“I’m going to the Oda’s. Help them finish up the court paperwork,” he responded blankly, then paused for a moment. “Is your wrist hurt?”

“Huh? Oh,” it took a second for him to process what Dazai was asking. “Yeah, no, it’s all good.”

He moved his wrist around as if he were proving something. It really didn’t, and the pain was still there, but he just smiled lightly to try and get rid of the awkward air. Dazai just nodded, sparing Chuuya only the smallest glance. “Good.”

When the doors opened, Chuuya swore that he never rushed out of an elevator quicker. This was perhaps the first moment of awkwardness between them since their entire situationship started, which was a bit less than a week ago. It wasn’t like they ever talked about what they were either- they just were. Maybe it was because if they spoke about it, that would also mean talking about what would happen when Chuuya went to France or when Dazai got his next role or emotions, which were neither of the two’s favorite thing. So for now, they were just the same. But sometimes they kissed.

It wasn’t Dazai’s fault that Mori ruined the very air around people and Chuuya wasn’t upset about the weird tension, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about it on the way back. He knew that he was only stressing himself out over nothing, but was Dazai upset with him? Why wasn’t Dazai coming back to the apartment with him? Was it because he was about to fight Mori? Because in all honesty, Mori deserved a good punch for having the audacity to talk to Dazai like that.

Whatever. He just went back to his stupid bed (that he’d finally been sleeping on with Dazai. Cuddling was the other addition to their more-than-friendship.) It wasn’t too bad that Dazai was out, considering he had to call his dads anyway.

“Chuuya!” Arthur smiled as soon as the call went through. They were on the couch, probably just waiting for the call after getting read. The time difference wasn’t too bad between them, but it was enough for some frustration. Both of his dads had to get up earlier so that they could have time to talk to Chuuya before work some days, and others made Chuuya call them late at night. Not that he would be asleep, but it was awfully annoying when he was tired from the day.

“Hey, Dad,” he waved at the camera. “What’s new this week? Did that poetry book come in?”

“Unfortunately not yet,” the man shook his head with a sigh. “I’m starting to think that you’ll be here before it is.”

“And you guys call me the overdramatic one,” Chuuya scoffed with a laugh. “Where’s Paul?”

“Still getting ready. He woke up late today so he’s a little grouchy,” Arthur looked up as he spoke. Another voice grumbled something in the distance, but Chuuya couldn’t hear what it was. The laugh that Arthur let out told Chuuya that it was probably some light insult, “Ignore him, Chuuya. I think that you have to catch us up.”

“On what?” he tilted his head.

“Your new boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Part of it was mere reflex to respond that, which was honestly just sad how many people had thought they were dating for the past four months. But the other part of him responded that because they weren’t boyfriends. They were friends who kissed and cuddled and were in love with each other. Not boyfriends.

“What’d you do?”

“Why do you think I did something? Maybe he didn’t want the relationship or maybe I don’t actually like him like that- don’t assume I did something!”

“That boy posted a video declaring his love to you in front of the entire world. If he didn’t want to date you, he sure as hell wouldn’t have done that. Now ask him out!”

“I still don’t trust him,” Paul called from the background.

“Okay, but let him be happy,” Arthur frowned at what was presumably Paul behind the camera.

“I want him to be happy, but that doesn’t mean that I have to like the guy he’s head over heels for.”

“I’m not head over heels! I feel very normally about him,” Chuuya shot back, as if his face wasn’t burning red from just the topic. “And after I saw the video, we met up.”

“And talked about it?”

“We kissed, okay?” he admitted, forcing himself to look away. He didn’t want to see his dads’ reactions. “And talking was just… not in the front of our minds.”

“Did you use protection?” the seriousness of the voice only made Chuuya flush harder.

“We didn’t have sex!” Chuuya yelled a little louder than he should’ve. After a moment, he spoke quieter. “It was just kissing, I swear.”

“Alright, but you know how to be safe, right?”

They didn’t know that he was hooking up with people left and right since he was a teenager, nor that this continued far into his adulthood. So sure, it was fair that they would make sure once Chuuya got into his first situationship. That also didn’t mean that Chuuya wouldn’t get insanely embarrassed about this topic. “Yes, I fucking know how to be safe!”

“Okay, okay! Just checking.”

“We aren’t even dating!”

“And I still don’t see why not,” Arthur shrugged with a smug look on his face. “He’s a good kid.”

“You haven’t met the damn asshole,” he huffed.

“Great idea! Invite him over next time we call.”

“Dad!”

Chuuya didn’t dare tell them that the biggest, most blaring reason he’d yet to bring up dating was because he was moving to France. If they found out, they’d tell Chuuya not to come back- to be with the person he loved, because they were sappy like that. Well, Arthur was. Paul would secretly just want Chuuya to be happy no matter what, but he wouldn’t even dare push him away from France. And they all knew that the reason Paul didn’t like Dazai was because Dazai reminded him of himself.

“I’ve hurt you in the past,” he’d said when Chuuya first told him about Dazai and his whole… situation. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

It was rare that Paul showed any emotions, but when it came to Chuuya and serious topics, he was always going to do whatever was in Chuuya’s best interest. He cared about Chuuya more than words, and Chuuya knew that. He was still fighting to make up for mistakes that Chuuya long forgave him for.

By the time Dazai got back to the apartment, Chuuya was sitting on the couch, on his phone to stop himself from stressing about whether or not Dazai was mad at him. As soon as the door moved, his eyes shot up to see the brunette.

“Hi,” he breathed out.

“Hello?” Dazai raised an eyebrow at Chuuya’s scared look. “Tu es bon?”

“Oh, yeah, no, I’m fine,” Chuuya nodded, not even sticking to French to prove his point. “Are you… bon?”

Dazai chuckled at the mix of the languages mid-sentence, sitting next to Chuuya on the couch, “I’m very bon. Mori’s just… Mori.”

“You aren’t upset with me at all?” he confirmed, looking wide-eyed and questioningly at the other. Despite being awful at communication, he still was too obvious with his emotions to let some things stay unspoken.

“Is there a reason I’d be mad at you?”

“Well… I guess not, but I thought that maybe you were since you went back to Oda’s instead of here with me, but that’s just stupid of me, I know, but it was just like… after how you dragged me out of the room, you just seemed hella angry and it was-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dazai gently grabbed the same wrist that he once harshly yanked, rubbing his thumb over it softly. “I’m not mad at you. I went to Oda’s because I always complain to him about Mori, so it’s just routine. Don’t overthink these things.”

“You understand that telling me to stop overthinking is the same as me telling you to stop calling me your dog?”

“I could never do that!” he whined, wrapping his arms around Chuuya’s small body and causing him to fall over on the couch. Dazai nuzzled his head against Chuuya’s. If Chuuya told you that his heartbeat wasn’t going way too fast, he’d be a big liar. “It’s not my fault that you’re my dog!”

“Get off me, asshole!” Chuuya lightly shoved Dazai away, knowing that he was blushing more than he should’ve been. God, it was stupid how easily Dazai could make him flustered. As Chuuya spoke, Dazai looked at him for a second, reading his face to see if he was serious or not. Chuuya smiled, which was his silent way of telling Dazai ‘keep going’.

“I’m never letting go! You’re mine!”

“I hate gay people,” Tachihara sipped his apple juice box as he walked into the living room, watching the two cuddle on the couch. “In my own damn living room.”

“You’re gay, idiot,” Chuuya huffed.

“I’m also aro, so fuck you, loser!” he raised a middle finger at Chuuya with a smile as he made his way to the kitchen, rummaging for some food. (If you saw Chuuya retaliate the harsh gesture, no, you didn’t.)

Finally sitting up (to Dazai’s dismay), Chuuya looked over to Tachihara, who was cooking ramen. “It’s hella early for dinner.”

“Nah, I just forgot to have lunch, so I’m making this now.”

And nothing about that should’ve made Chuuya feel bad about himself- hell, Chuuya didn’t have lunch that day. But hearing that Tachihara also didn’t eat made Chuuya feel like he should make more of an effort to not eat. Maybe he should skip dinner that night too. Somehow, Dazai knew what Chuuya was thinking- or maybe it was sheer luck- because he rubbed his hand along Chuuya’s arm comfortingly and shook his head. How did Dazai just know?

“Chibi, make me crab later!” Dazai hummed, clinging onto the older like a koala to a tree.

“I’m not your servant!” he elbowed Dazai with a pout, knowing fully well that he would end up making Dazai the food anyway. (He also understood the silent thoughts in Dazai’s head: if Chuuya makes Dazai food, Chuuya won’t have an excuse not to eat. It was something that Dazai pulled rather often, but not often enough for Chuuya to have a conversation about it. As long as he could throw up afterward, he didn’t mind having a meal or two a day too much.)

The rest of the day went on as such- them just playing around, light banter while they did various activities. It was normal; every other day was the same for them unless they had some kind of work to attend to. But Chuuya thought about his conversation with his dads a few times and looked over at Dazai. He couldn’t bring it up yet, he really couldn’t.

Dinner was cooked by Chuuya and he managed to take a few bites and tried his hardest not to throw up. Unfortunately (but also fortunately, in his hurt mind), his attempt failed after not too long. Hours passed of just being with the person he cared about.

Chuuya could live every day like this.

He would be happy being with Dazai every day for the rest of his life.

When they lay side by side in bed, they rambled on from topic to topic, joking with each other about the most random things. After their laughter calmed down, the air got oddly silent. And Chuuya wasn’t religious, but it felt like a sign from the universe that he needed to talk to Dazai. Finding the courage, he took a breath.

Chuuya turned to look at his… Dazai, looking pleadingly in his eyes, “Dazai, be honest with me.”

“When am I not?”

The response was merely a glare, which they both laughed at a little before Chuuya brought it up again, feeling slightly more anxious as the conversation kept getting postponed. “Seriously.”

Dazai caught onto the tension in the air, “What’s up? En français ou japonais?”

“Japanese is fine,” Chuuya shook his head dismissively- he just needed to get on with it. “I was just thinking… it’s kinda stupid-”

“It’s not.”

“You don’t even know what it is, idiot,” he hit Dazai lightly in the arm, which should’ve made Dazai whine jokingly, but he looked blankly at Chuuya. That was new.

“If it upset you or is making you anxious, it’s not stupid,” the sternness of his voice almost made Chuuya shiver. It was rare that Dazai got like this, and most of the time it wasn’t in a positive way. This… was a good shiver, he supposed. “Have I ever judged you when it mattered?”

Holding Dazai’s gaze, Chuuya responded honestly, “No.”

“Okay, so talk to me and I promise I won’t judge whatever it is.”

But he couldn’t promise that this time- Chuuya knew that there were many ways this could go down and half of them weren’t in his favor. Even without Dazai’s judging, he knew that this was something that could leave him anxious for a while. What else was he supposed to do though? His options were to be anxious or be anxious. And yet, when he looked into Dazai's eyes, he was anything but. Somehow Dazai’s very presence made Chuuya feel okay in a way that he could never express to anyone else.

“What are we?”

From the way that Dazai’s eyes widened and his mouth parted ever so slightly, Chuuya could tell that this caught him off guard. Almost immediately, all of the comfort he’d been granted was stolen away from him as Dazai turned over to stop looking at the redhead. Fuck.

“What do you mean?”

As if he didn’t know.

Chuuya indulged him anyway. He asked the question and he sure as hell wasn’t about to go back on it, “We obviously don’t hate each other anymore, so we aren’t enemies. We’re more than friends, but we never started dating. So what are we?”

“We’re Dazai and Chuuya.”

That should’ve been a good answer- it really should’ve- but both of them knew that it wasn’t what Chuuya really wanted to hear. It was just a smart, cute way to avoid the real question. That in itself should’ve been enough to get Chuuya to drop the topic. Dazai’s lack of response was a response in itself, but for some reason, Chuuya made himself press on. This was important to him. He needed to know what the future was going to look like for them- he needed to know what the present looked like.

“Dazai…”

Dazai shuffled again to face the ceiling, staring directly upwards as he thought of what exactly to say. It was almost like you could see the gears turning in his head as he thought of the right words, “Chuuya… I just- What do you want us to be?”

“I think it’s rather obvious what I want,” he admitted, still looking at Dazai. His words came out a little harsher than he intended. He hadn’t moved a bit since he started talking. All he wanted was to look at the comforting gaze again. He softened his voice, feeling more insecure as the seconds passed. “But I think that I’m asking for too much. It’s just wishful thinking, isn’t it?”

“I’m leaving Yokohama as soon as I find my next acting gig,” Dazai’s gaze didn’t falter for a second, not even taking the time to blink. It was like the world would explode if he took his eyes off the ceiling. “I’m gonna travel from city to city, country to country for the rest of my life. You’re going to live in a nice town in France and have your own fashion company. We’re living different lives. We can’t just pretend it won’t happen. We can’t pretend that we’ll ever see each other again in a year from now.”

“Can’t we figure something out?”

“Honestly, Chuuya?” When he finally turned his head over to Chuuya, his eyes were filled with pain. “I don’t know.”

“Is it really so hard to imagine a life with me?” Chuuya huffed, knowing that he was being unreasonable. They were valid concerns, they really were. But Chuuya had been rejected and his defensive walls came up. Fight or flight had started up and all Chuuya knew how to do was fight.

“Chuu-”

“What else should I’ve expected?” he scoffed, turning to look away from Dazai. Seeing the hurt in his eyes only made Chuuya feel worse, but there was no more backing down. Once he started, it was on. The rest of his words came out in a huffed manner, unlike the sharpness from earlier. “Whatever. We were never gonna work out anyway.”

“You-”

“Maybe we’re just better as friends.”

Part of Chuuya- all of Chuuya- was praying for Dazai to say that they weren’t. Even just hearing that they were their own category would’ve been somewhat relieving now. There was always something there and there always would be something there, even if Chuuya lived on a whole different continent. They were Dazai and Chuuya. They were people who met one random day and had become immediately enamored with each other. They were people who saw each other’s flaws and accepted them, helping each other in small ways. They were people who always knew what the other was thinking. They were Dazai and Chuuya- they’d fucking make it work.

Chuuya heard shuffling coming from the bed and for a second, he thought that Dazai was turning over to hold him and comfort him. To tell him that everything was okay and that he didn’t have to get defensive. To plant a kiss on his head and whisper in his ear. Instead, the voice came from further away- Dazai turned away from Chuuya.

“Yeah, maybe we are.”

Chapter Text

They won the court case.

Perhaps that was the last bit of good news that Chuuya received for the rest of the year. It took way longer than Chuuya assumed it would’ve (he never sued anyone- he didn’t know that this stuff could take years?), but by mid-December, they’d ruled Mori Ougai guilty of defamation. Chuuya wished he could’ve said that he wasn’t worried about it at all, but the way Mori was able to manipulate every person he came across was concerning.

Dazai might’ve also threatened the judge, but they didn’t talk about it.

Those months passed averagely- every day was the same. Some days he had work at the cafe, others he had interviews. Dazai stayed in Chuuya’s apartment, which Chuuya took as a sign that he actually wanted to stay friends. So they did- Dazai came to the cafe every so often, but it wasn’t the same as before. He tried to back off Chuuya, but Chuuya didn’t want that. Chuuya wanted to go back to how they were- he didn’t need time to get over Dazai. Part of him thought that he would rather die than get over Dazai.

His emotions and thoughts were always uncontrollable, but when he was with Dazai, everything seemed to calm down. It was like Dazai found a way to shut off Chuuya’s worries with the touch of a hand. That was something no one had ever done, and it sure as hell wasn’t something he wanted to stop. So as much as Dazai tried to give him space, Chuuya made sure he got closer. If it were for Dazai’s sake- if it were because Dazai needed to be away from Chuuya- Chuuya might’ve let up, but he could tell that Dazai was more worried for the redhead. But they were mostly how they were before. Friends who didn’t kiss each other “just because” or cuddle each other to sleep at night. Friends who knew that they were in love with each other, but pushed those emotions down.

“What’d you get me for Christmas?” Dazai poked Chuuya’s arm as Chuuya was working, calling in a teasing voice that Chuuya could only scoff and roll his eyes at.

“A gag to shut you up,” Chuuya grumbled back, not even telling Dazai that he wasn’t allowed behind the counter at this point. By now, this was something regular for the two of them- as long as the manager was gone (which was all the time), Dazai was free to annoy Chuuya.

“Oh my! My Chibi’s so kinky-”

Chuuya’s elbow hitting Dazai’s stomach shut him up with a whine, pouting dramatically.

“Meanie,” he huffed but didn’t leave the counter. “My dog was never taught manners.”

“Isn’t that the owner’s fault?” The redhead looked at Dazai with a raised eyebrow, but Dazai just smiled widely.

“So you admit that you’re my dog?”

“So you admit that you’re a bad owner?”

“Mhm!” Dazai clapped happily, then ruffled Chuuya’s head. Chuuya leaned into the touch at first, but immediately backed off when he realized that he shouldn’t indulge in it.

“What did I expect?” he sighed, slapping Dazai’s hand away as he finished making the coffee and went to bring it to the person’s seat. Dazai trailed behind him as if he were the dog between the two of them. Damn hypocrite.

But as they bickered, the question remained in the back of his head: what to get Dazai? Christmas was both Chuuya’s favorite and least favorite holiday for the exact same reason. Chuuya loved giving gifts- he was the kind of person who would buy someone a book because they mentioned wanting to read it or to see a type of food and remember that his friend liked it. But Christmas brought new fear. What if they didn’t like the gift he gave them? On a day-to-day basis, there wasn’t any of that pressure because he didn’t have to get them anything in the first place, but Christmas was when people expected nice things. He had to up his game.

Of course, he spent a long time trying to decide on Dazai’s gift. Hell, Chuuya was still madly in love with the guy, so why wouldn’t he spend time making sure that it was perfectly fit to Dazai’s liking? Occasionally through the day, he’d just stare at Dazai, trying to read into his soul to find the gift. But everything seemed like it wasn’t good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough for Dazai Osamu- nothing would accurately portray all of the love he wanted to show.

“Chuuya! You’re so boring!” Dazai whined. “Talk to me! Entertain me!”

“Shut up, damn mackerel!” Chuuya bit back, taken out of his thoughts by the brunette who was leaning over the counter (finally on the right side of it). “I have a job.”

“And isn't it part of your job to attend to the customers?”

“You didn’t even order shit!”

“I’ll have a medium vanilla latte with ten pumps of pomegranate, three pumps of lavender, and whipped cream- add chocolate drizzle on it too!” Dazai handed over his credit card as Chuuya frantically wrote down the abomination that Dazai ordered. “Now I’m a paying customer and you have to entertain me!”

“You’re every waiter’s nightmare,” Chuuya muttered as he slid the credit card, paid for the drink, and then got started on the horrendous latte.

“I’m a delight!”

The raised eyebrow Chuuya gave made Dazai only pout further- eventually, Chuuya allowed himself to chuckle lightly, which made the tips of Dazai’s lips twitch upward. Just for a second, but Chuuya saw it.

Neither of them really mentioned Christmas after that. It wasn’t like Chuuya or Tachihara had an actual Christmas tree, but Chuuya always loved decorating festively, so he put up a few lights and stockings. A mini Christmas tree sat on their coffee table too, so it didn’t feel too sad.

As the days were counting down- about a week left until the holiday- Dazai was on his bed, scrolling through his phone when he asked, “So when are you leaving for Christmas?”

“Hm?” Chuuya looked up from his futon at the brunette, who hadn’t even spared Chuuya a glance. “Oh, no- I’m not going. I’m just… staying in Yokohama.”

“What? Why?” Dazai questioned further, eyes traveling to meet Chuuya’s for only a split second before returning back to the phone.

“Well, I’m hella broke,” he laughed. “And as much as I would love to be with my dads for the holidays, it’s still nice to spend it with my friends.”

“Would you rather spend it with your dads?”

“I mean, of course- I barely see them once a year, but there’s no reason for me to spend more money than I already do around this time. Some of us have friends to buy for,” Chuuya teased at the end, to which Dazai didn’t even react. That was weird. The redhead narrowed his eyes as he searched for what was wrong. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Dazai shook his head lightly, silently telling Chuuya to leave the conversation there. Maybe he was missing his family… for whatever reason. Perhaps the missing snow globe had eventually hurt him. Chuuya wished he could do something for Dazai- literally anything that could make him feel better.

The next day, he discovered the truth behind Dazai’s silence when he was handed a plane ticket.

“Spend Christmas with your family,” he looked at Chuuya’s surprised expression, eyes glimmering. “You-”

Whatever Dazai was about to say, the world may never know, because Chuuya hugged him tighter than ever. He wrapped his arms around Dazai’s body and dug his head into Dazai’s chest, feeling his own tears start to spill out against his own will. He was happy that he could see his dads in person again, sure, but more than that, Dazai had spent money booking Chuuya a last-minute flight like it was nothing. It was something that actively hurt Dazai since the original plan was to spend Christmas together- at least that was the assumption: to spend a portion of it together. That was how much Dazai cared about Chuuya.

“Come with me,” Chuuya whispered into Dazai. He wasn’t the type to beg, but God, he was ready to get on his knees and plead for Dazai to come with him. Dazai had managed to engrave himself in Chuuya’s life and there was no taking that back anymore. “I’ll buy the ticket for you- I don’t care. Just come with me.”

And ignoring the way Chuuya heard Dazai’s heartbeat speed up, Dazai returned the embrace, placing a light kiss on the top of Chuuya’s head, “Yeah. Anything you want.”

Chuuya trusted him.

The flight took off two days later, allowing them both time to pack as well as time to meet up with their friends and give the gifts that were supposed to be saved for the twenty-fifth. Dazai spent most of the day with Oda and Ango, while Chuuya went out with Tachihara, Higuchi, and the Akutagawas. And then it was time for take off. (The morning of the flight was filled with more yelling than it should’ve had, but it wasn’t Chuuya’s fault that Dazai wouldn’t wake up. It was a miracle that this man made it anywhere before ten. Really, it was a miracle that this man made it anywhere at all.)

Most of the ride passed quietly since Dazai put his headphones on and Chuuya was just planning on trying to get some sleep since he wasn’t able to during the night. They were set to spend a week in Paris, getting back before New Year’s Day to spend it with all their friends. Almost like an apology for missing Christmas, they supposed. After the awful plane ride came the long taxi ride, driving them to the outskirts of Paris and the only place that Chuuya could call home.

His house wasn’t anything nice- neither of his dads were necessarily rich by any means, though they weren’t poor. It was a two-story house, the downstairs having a living room and kitchen, while the upstairs had a restroom and two bedrooms. One of which was for Paul and Arthur while the other was for Chuuya. The outside was painted a nice beige, a color that his parents loved, but Chuuya found too bland. But it was how he spent his teenage years and it would always be how he remembered his home.

Chuuya warned Dazai in advance about the awful mattress, lack of a futon, and overall messy room, but Dazai swore he didn’t mind. Rather than tell him that it was hundreds of times worse than the nice rooms he’d lived in, Chuuya just sighed and allowed Dazai to blindly agree. If it was too bad, Dazai could sleep on the couch, which was definitely softer than the mattress. And they were already standing on the porch, so there was no turning back anymore. (Not unless Dazai booked another last-minute ticket back to Yokohama, but it was probably already too late for that.)

Of course, they could’ve told Arthur and Paul that they would be coming for Christmas, but Chuuya decided to keep it a surprise. It wasn’t like they’d have to cook for the two, nor deal with them all that much (and Chuuya knew that his dads wouldn’t mind having the company), so inconveniencing them wasn’t a real issue. Plus he had a key to the house, so he could get in without them noticing with no problem. The issue was when Chuuya hadn’t been able to sleep all night after flying and ran into Paul while making his way out of the restroom.

(Paul screamed. Very loudly.)

“Hm? What’s going on?” Arthur walked out of their room, rubbing his eyes after a second, still in his pajamas. (The nice sound of his French made Chuuya feel even more at home than he already did. God, he missed it.) As soon as Arthur saw Chuuya, he blinked harshly a few times to truly get the sleep out of his eyes.

“Surprise?” he smiled with a shrug, not knowing what else to do or say. Almost immediately after he spoke, Paul rushed to hug him tightly and Chuuya could only let out a sigh of pure relief at being back with his dads.

“What on Earth are you doing here?” Paul ruffled Chuuya’s hair as he asked, a smile very prominent in his voice.

“Dazai bought me plane tickets… for Christmas,” the redhead admitted. “He’s- um- here too, by the way. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Arthur patted Chuuya’s back and rubbed his shoulder lightly. “I’ve been needing to meet the boy- is he awake?”

“Nah,” Chuuya smiled a little harder thinking of how quickly Dazai passed out on the uncomfortable bed. The older didn't even have time to ask if it was alright for him to sleep on before he was drooling all over Chuuya’s pillow. Idiot. “He can sleep through anything, I promise. But he’ll be up by eleven if we’re lucky.”

“We missed you so much,” Paul finally let go of his son, looking at him as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“I missed you guys too,” he held back tears as he really realized that he was there with his dads for Christmas. They were all together again after half a year and that was bliss.

After Arthur laid a kiss on Chuuya’s head, he spoke up again, “Let’s catch up in the morning, but for now, I think we all need some sleep.”

“Do you work tomorrow?” Chuuya asked before they had the chance to step away from him.

“I’m off until the second,” the blonde answered. “We’ll have plenty of time, I promise.”

“Okay,” he finally nodded, letting his dads start to walk away. “Goodnight, dads.”

“Goodnight, my love,” Arthur gave one last smile to Chuuya. “Sleep well.”

“Are you still having trouble sleeping?” Paul ended up asking quickly. “I have medicine down-”

“It’s fine, Dad, I promise,” he waved off. Of course, he had major trouble sleeping, but he wasn’t going to tell them that. “Goodnight again.”

“Goodnight, Chuuya.”

- - -

Dazai’s first impression of Chuuya’s parents was that they were scary.

That likely had to do with Dazai’s bad experiences with people that much older than him, but still, he felt extremely awkward leaving the room.

“C’mon!” Chuuya whined. “Get off your ass and meet my dads before I bring them up here myself!”

“But I don’t wanna!” Dazai huffed, trying desperately to go to sleep again to have some excuse to not meet them.

He knew that they were good people- he heard the way that Chuuya lit up when talking about them. But he also knew that they probably heard about all the awful ways that he had hurt Chuuya, which was entirely fair, but only caused his mind worse anxiety. How was he supposed to make them love him when they probably already hated him? Maybe it was just a mistake and Dazai should just make a hotel reservation until they leave or maybe-

“They’re gonna love you, so get ready and meet them before I kill you!” His words were emphasized with a harsh kick that made Dazai whine more.

“Chibi’s so mean to me!” He finally sat up and looked at Chuuya.

This was new.

Well, technically, it was old. Six months old. It was the Chuuya that he first met at callbacks who wore leather jackets and spiked gloves without giving a shit about how people saw him. He dressed the same way he used to, so many months ago. Before the rumors. If going to Chuuya’s dads meant that Chuuya would be able to confidently wear whatever the hell he wanted, Dazai would want to stay there with him forever.

But Dazai supposed that at least half of the confidence was faked, since as he saw Dazai staring at him, he crossed his arms to cover his stomach and turned his head away, “The fuck are you staring at?”

“Beauty,” he answered, letting a smile rest on his lips. Chuuya’s eyes flickered over to look at Dazai, examining whether or not he was genuine, but then returned to staring at the floor intensely, now with red filling up his face.

“Shut up, asshole. Just get ready.”

And this time, Dazai listened, reluctantly getting ready and heading back to Chuuya’s room to take a few moments before having to meet the people who raised Chuuya- perhaps the people who Chuuya loved most in his life. Dazai smiled to himself at that. Chuuya had people that he loved who were able to give him that same love in return. That was beautiful.

“You ready?” Chuuya asked once Dazai stood up from the bed again. “They speak Japanese if you’re more comfortable with that.”

“No,” Dazai shook his head. French was an important part of Chuuya and Dazai was going to honor and cherish that part the way he honored every other part of Chuuya.

With that last word, they both made their way downstairs to meet with Paul and Arthur (was Dazai allowed to call them that? That felt too informal). The one who was standing up, cooking lunch, immediately narrowed his eyes at Dazai and looked him up and down. That wasn’t intimidating at all. The other one, the one who was sitting down, drinking what was probably coffee, widened his eyes and smiled lightly. That was a little more comforting.

He observed both men as well as he could without looking like he was examining them. Dazai liked to find anything he could about people- this wasn’t just the case with Paul and Arthur. By now, he did it without even thinking too hard. The standing one had already dressed himself up fancily as if he were going to work. But it was eleven and Chuuya had mentioned that he went to work early in the morning, so perhaps that was just the way that he dressed. His blonde hair was pulled into a low ponytail and he wore one of those ridiculous hats that Chuuya always liked.

The other man was in what was likely his pajamas and had a blanket wrapped around him as well. His long, brown hair was flowing freely and earmuffs covered his ears- interesting. It was winter, sure, but it was definitely warm enough inside to go without all that. His hands were covered by gloves and he held the mug as if that was his only heat source.

“Dazai Osamu,” the blonde pursed his name. Then he spoke in heavily accented Japanese, “Welcome to our home.”

“It’s a nice place,” Dazai responded in French, which evidently surprised both of the men.

“Chuuya didn’t tell me you spoke French,” the brunette hummed from his seat. “What other talents do you have hiding up your sleeve?”

“Nothing else, sir,” he smiled lightly, still nervous.

“No need to call us sir. Just call us Paul and Arthur; we want you to feel comfortable here,” the way his eyes flickered to the blonde was as if he was saying ‘See?’, but Dazai wasn’t sure what they had necessarily bet on.

“You’re Arthur, I take it?” Dazai nodded to the sitting man. He was told that Arthur was a lot more welcoming than Paul was, but that Paul was just someone you needed to warm up to. Which meant that Paul was probably already hating him and Dazai wasn’t sure if he could fix that. Maybe he was right to call it off with Chuuya months ago.

Chuuya stood behind Dazai the entire time, nervously looking from place to place and playing with his finger as if he was the one meeting the love of his life’s parents for the first time. (Did Chuuya want his parents to like Dazai…?)

“I am,” Arthur smiled at Dazai, taking another sip of his coffee. He turned to Chuuya teasingly, “Does my little boy talk about us a lot?”

“I do not-”

“All the time!” Dazai clapped happily, excited for any opportunity to tease Chuuya. “The Chibi’s like- obsessed with you or something.”

And it was true and really not embarrassing in the slightest, in Dazai’s opinion. What was bad about loving the people who took care of you and loved you when no one else would? But all the same, Chuuya turned bright red and crossed his arms dramatically as he turned away, as if they couldn’t see the redhead’s blush anyway. He was like those teenage boys who would never admit about liking their parents. Cute. Cute enough that Dazai let himself giggle- just the slightest bit.

“Shut up!” Chuuya huffed. Then he turned to Dazai, who was still smiling widely at the sight in front of him. “What’s so funny, huh?”

“You,” he sent Chuuya a heart and blew a kiss, which only made Chuuya blush a more furious red. “But seriously, there’s nothing embarrassing about loving your parents.”

“What are you two still standing for?” Arthur waved them over. “Come over, take a seat.”

So Dazai supposed that Arthur had already been won over somehow, but Paul still glared daggers at him, as if waiting for him to make a mistake. And Dazai knew that he would, so he couldn’t even blame the man for wanting to protect his son like that. It wasn’t until Christmas that they even really had a conversation together.

“It’s to my knowledge that you’re the one who flew Chuuya here,” Paul spoke as he cooked lunch while Chuuya and Arthur had gone out. Dazai was convinced that it was simply because Chuuya had it out for him and wanted him to finally have at least one conversation with Paul, but that was just something that Dazai would do. Which was probably exactly why Chuuya would do it too. Asshole.

“Oh, um, yeah,” Dazai just walked down the stairs after telling himself that Paul probably wouldn’t talk to him. That was proved wrong very quickly. “Do you need any help with cooking?”

Dazai prayed that Paul would say no out of politeness or else Dazai would make a big mistake sooner than he expected. If Dazai was asked to do almost anything, he may burn down the kitchen.

But of course, Paul just looked at Dazai and spoke again, “Yeah, I could use some help.”

After being told to cut up some vegetables, Dazai grabbed a knife and cutting board, thinking about how long it’d been since he held a blade in his hand. He really had been healing, even if it didn’t feel like so all the time. Such as now, when he stared at it intensely for a second too long.

“Do you need me to do the cutting?” Paul asked. But no, he needed to be strong enough to hold a damn knife if Paul was gonna like him. This was a reason that he wasn’t good enough for Chuuya- he wouldn’t even be able to cook for the guy. Dazai subconsciously tightened his grip on it.

“No, I’m alright,” Dazai simply grabbed some of the vegetables and started cutting quickly, slice after slice.

“I- um-” he started again after a moment of silence. “I appreciate all you do… for Chuuya.”

“Hm?” the brunette absentmindedly was cutting at the food, bringing the knife down over and over again. “Oh, the plane ticket. It was nothing, really-”

“Not just that. Everything,” Paul shuffled around behind him, grabbing things and putting other things away. “The video from those months ago, the makeup, the help- you make him really h-”

He was cut off by Dazai’s harsh inhale.

In his dazed trance, Dazai had accidentally cut his finger. He didn’t mean to this time, he swore- it wasn’t that he wanted to do it. He really didn’t. All he did was think about it, but maybe his subconscious just wanted him to hurt as much as his brain did. Was he not really healing? The burn, the sting- it felt so good. Dazai missed the feeling of pain surging through his body. He wanted more. But no. He didn’t plan on it. He didn’t. The most recent scars on his wrist were all scabs by now. It’d been two weeks. This wasn’t meant to happen.

Would Chuuya be upset with him? Would everyone hate him? God, this was it. This was the final moment for him and Chuuya- Paul would realize that Dazai was mentally unstable and that it would be too much pain for Chuuya and that there was no way that they should even be friends and-

“Dazai?” Paul called, his face blurry. Shit, had Dazai started crying? He didn’t mean to. Hands on his shoulders grounded him. “It’s okay. I’ll get you a bandaid and we can get rid of the bloody part. You’re okay.”

Dazai couldn’t do anything but nod as he was taken upstairs to the bathroom, sitting down on the toilet as Paul rummaged for their pack of bandaids. And now Dazai had caused all this unnecessary trouble for Paul too, when he could’ve just finished up cooking nicely. If only Dazai weren’t there to interrupt. Maybe he should’ve succeeded all those months ago.

“We’ll fix it, I promise,” Paul rubbed Dazai’s arm comfortingly after putting the bandaid nicely around his finger. It made sense for Paul to assume that it was all because Dazai had gotten blood on the food, seeing as Chuuya often reacted like that when he had caused people any form of trouble they didn’t deserve. But that wasn’t Dazai.

All Dazai could think about was how he would never heal enough. He would always hold a knife and wonder what the sting would feel like again. He would always do stupid things to hurt himself emotionally or physically. He would always want to die. He should leave. This in itself proved that he wasn’t and would never be good enough for Chuuya.

“Are you still with me?” the blonde asked, seeing Dazai’s hazy eyes, unfocused as he looked at the wall behind Paul. “Dazai?”

“I’m not good enough for him,” Dazai shook his head, admitting what Paul already knew. His voice was more cracked than he thought it would’ve been. Fuck. He sounded so weak. “Why did I think I could be?”

Dazai hoped that somehow, someday, he could be good enough for Chuuya. He knew that they could’ve found some way to make dating work months ago, but Dazai also knew that he wouldn’t be worth the effort. He wanted to be worth the effort. But hell, this was proof that he would always be the same.

“For who?” Paul tried to make eye contact with Dazai, but Dazai’s eyes weren’t focused enough. It was like he was in a totally separate world. “Chuuya?”

Chuuya’s name being said outloud in the conversation made Dazai snap back into reality. Shit. He frantically wiped his tears and straightened his slouched back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“You’re alright, Dazai,” he looked concerned, genuinely concerned about Dazai’s wellbeing. “If you need to talk about it you can.”

“It’s just what you already know,” the actor huffed out a laugh. “Seriously, it’s nothing.”

“What I already know?”

“I know that you’re just waiting for me to fuck up. And I did. So you can kick me out or tell me to stay away from Chuuya or… anything,” Dazai was trying to stay as level-headed as he could. He couldn’t let his stupid emotions take over again. Why was it so difficult to shut down around this family?

“Hey,” in that moment, Paul really sounded like a concerned father. He took a breath as he thought about what to say next. “I know I’ve been… a bit of an asshole to you, but you really make my son happy. And I think that’s what matters most. You’re welcome here whenever- announced or unannounced, you can always fly here and have a home. But you didn’t screw anything up. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

And despite Dazai’s nodding, his eyes entirely betrayed him as he started letting more and more tears fall. Paul’s hand just rubbed his back and repeated different words in Dazai’s ear. What did Dazai do to deserve this? Why was Paul being so nice? Holy shit, it was Christmas- he needed to get his act together and stop crying so much.

By the time Chuuya and Arthur got home, Dazai had washed his face and forced himself to stop crying, insisting that he help Paul continue with lunch. The rest of it went a lot better. For the full day, things went far better than others- maybe it was because the fear of Paul’s hatred had been lifted off his back. Even if a new fear rested in the back of his mind.

Around the end of the day, Dazai and Chuuya had retreated to their room after Chuuya asked Dazai to go upstairs with him. And Dazai can’t say no to Chuuya.

“I’m sorry,” Chuuya started by saying as he shut the door behind him, going to rummage through his suitcase frantically. “I wish I could’ve gotten you something even half as nice as a visit to your parents, but this is all I really have to offer…”

Held out to Dazai once Chuuya stood up was a snow globe. A small semi-sphere with a small little house inside of it and figures of children playing outside. Dazai gasped as his eyes landed on it. He got him… Holy shit. Dazai gently reached his hands out to hold it.

“Chuuya-”

“I know it’s dumb,” Chuuya immediately backtracked. “I just- I didn’t know what to get you because it felt like everything wasn’t good enough and you’re kinda rich so you could get yourself anything you wanted, but I thought that maybe it would be nice to let you know that my family is your family too and even if we don’t see each other after a few months, you’re still the person who I know best and who knows me best, but if you don’t like it, I also got those bandages from the brand you like but never get since it isn’t online and you’re always too lazy to go out and get- and I also got you a necklace, but that didn’t feel personal enough so-”

Dazai couldn’t help but throw his arms around Chuuya and pull him in as tight as possible. Chuuya knew what snow globes meant to Dazai and that was a silent promise. Even after all of the hurt that Dazai put Chuuya through, he still was willing to hand that snow globe over and be there for Dazai.

“I love you,” Dazai admitted out loud for the first time since the video. Since all those months ago.

He felt Chuuya relax in his arms as he returned the hug, “I love you too, Osamu.”

Even if Dazai’s heart was completely melted, it somehow managed to melt more when he heart Chuuya say his first name for the first time. He hadn’t been called Osamu by anyone other than Mori since… since he was taken from his family. And Chuuya was giving it a new purpose. A purpose other than manipulation and hurt. It was love.

“I wish I did more for you,” Dazai whispered. “I got you the stupid hat you wanted and a fancy bottle of wine. That was your gift. I spent ages walking down isles, wondering what to buy, since nothing was good enough for you either.”

“That’s more than enough. Anything’s more than enough from you,” Chuuya admitted, but then he took a deep breath and pushed Dazai away just enough so that they could look at each other. “But can I be selfish for just one minute? Can I ask for just one more gift?”

“Anything.”

“Kiss me,” he looked up at Dazai with those wide eyes that Dazai spent half a year admiring. His breath was on Dazai’s skin- his hair was in Dazai’s fingers. He was so, so close. And Dazai was selfish too.

He closed the space between them.

Chapter Text

“Chuuya.”

A soft voice called late in the night- later than Chuuya had thought Dazai would’ve been up. Normally Chuuya lay on the far side of the bed, turned away from Dazai, on his phone so that he could ignore just how late in the night it was. Immediately, he closed his phone and shuffled over to face Dazai. Dazai wasn’t facing Chuuya.

“What’s up?” Chuuya asked. “Is it the phone light? Is it bothering you?”

He heard a deep breath come from Dazai and watched the way his chest rose and fell. It was almost peaceful- like Dazai was still asleep and Chuuya had hallucinated his voice. That wasn’t the case.

“Do you really think we could figure it out?” Dazai’s voice came out as a whisper as if he was fighting parts of his brain to even speak it out loud. His head dug into his chest and he held his legs closer to his body. He was impossibly small.

Not much happened that night after the kiss. Chuuya thanked him and they just rested in each other’s arms for many moments. He always felt better in Dazai’s arms, even though he knew that after a few months, they would never see each other again. Even though Chuuya wasn’t worth the effort to figure everything out. But Dazai was still there and he would be for four more months.

And then they ended up on opposite sides of Chuuya’s creaky bed the way they did every night. Chuuya assumed that they would just never talk about it again and he was okay with that- he just wanted a second to pretend. To think about that other universe where they met without all of the pain of knowing they couldn’t really be. To pretend that that universe was this one.

“Of course, we can,” Chuuya answered quickly, maybe a little too harshly. “Dazai, you said it yourself- we’re Dazai and Chuuya. We could take over the damn world if we tried.”

“You know I might never get better,” Dazai still spoke to the wall, the statement sounding almost like a question. “You know I might never be worth it.”

“You can’t be serious,” he scoffed, which made Dazai turn over. The look on Dazai’s face was indescribable- like he was pleading for Chuuya to stop joking, as if Chuuya was. It hurt Chuuya, but at least he got to look at Dazai’s eyes. He reached to grab the brunette’s hands, holding them in his own. “You’ve always been worth it, idiot.”

“I don’t think you understand- I tried to kill myself just months ago,” Dazai shook his head, voice shaky. Like it was something that would ever stop Chuuya from wanting Dazai.

“And I was there to help. What’s the issue?”

“The issue is that I could do that any day on a whim. Are you ready to deal with that pain?”

“Dazai, not dating you won’t stop me from loving you,” Chuuya pointed out. “I’m sure you know that.”

“It’d be so much easier to just forget about me,” he shook his head, moving one of his hands out of Chuuya’s to cup his cheek softly. “I just wanted to be selfish for a few months, but you deserve better than that.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“I call bullshit,” the redhead furrowed his eyebrows. “I won’t forget you, asshole. I’ll be in France watching every single interview of yours, thinking about how much I wanted to be with you. I’ll be trying to sleep at night and I just won’t be able to because for some stupid reason, I can’t sleep without you next to me. I’ll be waking up in the morning and rolling over to kick you and wake you up and then feel an ache in my heart when I realize you aren’t next to me. I know it’s stupid and crazy, Osamu, but you’re my future.”

He wished that he could erase the way Dazai’s face contorted with emotion. It looked too hurt and that was the last thing Chuuya wanted to do.

“So yeah, I can deal with walking home to you passed out from taking drugs a few times if it means that I’m there to make sure you wake up in the end,” he suddenly felt way more shy. He wanted to look anywhere but at Dazai. “But don’t ever pull that ‘you deserve better’ shit ever again.”

“You really think I’m your future?”

The whisper sounded almost pained- so shaky, so quiet that Chuuya thought he might’ve imagined the words for a second. “I really like you. And it’s only been half a year so I know that this is stupid and maybe weird, but I can’t see myself waking up every day without you. So yeah… I think you’re my future. If you’re willing to be.”

After a second of silence, Chuuya spoke again, even though he wasn’t even sure if he should or not. Maybe he was just saying all the wrong things, but at this point, he didn’t care that his heart was out there for Dazai to see. Dazai already had his heart anyway.

“And you’re getting better, whether you see it or not,” he finally looked straight at Dazai, noticing his messy hair and bright eyes. Beautiful eyes. When Chuuya said that, the air left Dazai’s chest and he opened his mouth ever so slightly, like he was going to retort. “Don’t deny it, because even if you don’t see it, I do.”

“I can’t even hold a knife without thinking about…”

“Yeah, and I can’t take a bite of food without thinking about how many calories are in it or how much weight I’ll gain. We’re healing, Dazai. You can’t expect to be all better immediately.”

There was a pause. A moment where they just looked into each others eyes. Dazai seemed guilty, but Chuuya couldn’t tell why. The answer was revealed to him after just a second.

“I miss cutting,” Dazai admitted, looking as if Chuuya would kill him for saying it. Everything about him screamed fear, like this was a major secret that he never wanted to share. It looked like tears were starting to shine in Dazai’s eyes. “I accidentally cut my finger today and the pain just… But I’ve been clean for two weeks and I don’t wanna ruin it. I wanted to get better.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“You’ve gone two weeks without cutting,” Chuuya shrugged, trying to make Dazai more comfortable. “I didn’t know that you had, but I’m proud.”

“But I still want to-”

“But you also want to get better. And that’s the hardest part,” he stared at Dazai as if he could convince him merely through eye contact alone. “Months ago, you were ready to give up on living and now you want to try. That’s progress.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Dazai shook his head as Chuuya reached to wipe the tears before they even fell.

“It really doesn’t.”

Chuuya pulled himself closer to Dazai, wrapping his arms around Dazai’s head like he was cradling him. He placed a kiss to the top of Dazai’s head, wanting nothing more than to hold on and never let go. It was simply baffling to think that just a year ago, they hadn’t met.

A year ago, Chuuya was sitting on the couch watching Christmas movies with Tachihara until he forced himself to fall asleep like his roommate had hours ago. A year ago, Chuuya was hooking up with person after person, praying that someday someone would love him. A year ago, he never even thought of acting or making a real name for himself. A year ago, he didn’t know Dazai Osamu.

“I want to be your future.”

At those words, Chuuya felt himself freeze, a smile twitching on his face as he blinked back tears. Everything about today was just… insane. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Chuuya,” he whispered into Chuuya’s chest. “You know I don’t do well with emotions, but fuck, Chuuya… you make me want to have a future.”

Those words meant everything.

They fell asleep in each others arms that night for the first time in ages, instead of opposite sides of the mattress like they had before. Chuuya missed it. Chuuya missed Dazai.

For their last day in France, Chuuya thought it was time to introduce Dazai to some of the most important people in his life: the Flags. It wasn’t the most fun thing, and Chuuya gave Dazai the option of staying home or wandering around Paris instead, but Dazai was also happy to meet the people who Chuuya loved so much after all these years. Chuuya never told Dazai how the Flags died, even though the guilt was eating him inside. But it never really came up in conversation, so Chuuya never found the right time to tell him that he was a murderer.

“Hey guys,” Chuuya sat in front of the section of graves, sitting in the snow and ignoring the cold against his legs. “I’m back sooner than I thought I’d be, so I hope you guys didn’t miss me too much.”

Dazai just stood there behind Chuuya, silently watching as Chuuya closed his eyes and spoke to the air in front of him.

“I’m here because someone really… really important to me decided to absolutely outdo me on Christmas and flew me here to be with my dads for the holidays,” Chuuya chuckled to himself softly. “I’ve never told you guys about him because I didn’t know him the last time I saw you- and yes, Pianoman, I know that it’s crazy for me to trust someone so much after such a short amount of time, but wasn’t it the same with you guys? I trusted someone as crazy looking as Doc and you all turned out to be fine- really fucking annoying, but still my closest friends…”

He felt the ache in his heart as he spoke those words. The Flags would always be Chuuya’s closest friends, no matter what happened in the future. They would always be his people, even if Chuuya… It took a few moments for him to collect himself, shaking his head as he brushed sad thoughts out of his mind.

“Right, but- uh- I wanted you to meet him,” Chuuya gestured back to Dazai, who waved at the graves with a small, sad smile. “His name is Dazai Osamu, but I’m sure you already know him. God, Lippmann, you and him would be such a good acting pair together, I regret not introducing you two earlier. And Iceman, I think you could’ve helped him embrace his scars because his are as beautiful as yours are. Doc, he’d probably let you inject him with those weird drugs of yours without a question.” He felt Albatross scolding Chuuya for not mentioning him. “I could never forget you, Albatross! You two are too fucking annoying to even meet each other- I don’t think there’d be a second of silence with you two.”

A breath.

“And Pianoman, I think you’d like that he’s teaching me to get better. You’re always such a mom, and you’d take care of him better than I could, but he’s also taking care of me. We help each other- it’s a thing.”

He opened his eyes and turned over to Dazai, who was just staring at Chuuya the entire time.

“Do you want to talk to them? Not that you have to or anything-”

“I’d like to,” Dazai took a step forward to be in line with Chuuya, then got on his knees in the snow as well. “So… hi, everyone. I didn’t prepare to talk to you guys or anything, but it’s nice that I’m getting the chance.”

Dazai thought for a second while Chuuya looked at him. His fluffy brown hair was flying in the wind, but Dazai didn’t seem to pay that any mind. He just kept his eyes closed and spoke.

“I don’t know much about how Chuuya was as a child, but from what I’ve heard, you guys are the reason that he’s the person that he is today. And that’s something that I will thank you for until the end of the world,” Chuuya felt his heart ache at Dazai’s words. He loved Dazai so much. “I think you guys would probably like to know that Chuuya’s an insanely famous actor now- Lippmann, I’m sure you’re proud of him. And his fashion sense is insanely good. He tells me that he wants to start a fashion line when he moves back to France, which I think will be really good for him. I’ll be wearing every single item he makes and promoting it everywhere, I promise you that.”

He gave a small laugh. Chuuya loved Dazai’s smile. Chuuya loved the way Dazai was talking to them. Chuuya loved everything about Dazai more than he thought he could ever love anything.

“Chuuya’s the strongest person I know, both physically and emotionally. Seriously, I got hella bruises from him,” another laugh. Chuuya laughed too. “But really, he’s gone through so much and still sees the good in the world. He still wakes up every morning and sees a purpose in living. It makes me see a purpose too. And I think you should know that he’s healing. He’s really trying and that gives me relief that I can’t put into words. I think you all need to know the amazing person that he’s grown into. Thank you for being his friends and sticking by him until the end. It means everything to him and me. Thank you.”

As soon as Dazai had finished talking, Chuuya wrapped his arms around Dazai’s neck as they both fell into the snow. Chuuya didn’t care about how the snow melted onto their coats. Chuuya didn’t care that their clothes were getting muddy and wet. Chuuya didn’t care about anything but the man in his arms. Everything else was secondary when he had Dazai Osamu so close to him.

When Dazai Osamu loved him.

- - -

“Hello, my little gossipers!”

Nikolai spoke to the camera with overexaggerated motions- but in all fairness, he was like that in real life anyway. “Welcome to Nikolai’s Tea Time, where you ask and I deliver. Today, we’re live with the dynamic duo that everyone’s been talking about since the premiere of their latest movie: Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya!”

Dazai and Chuuya both waved at the cameras that would be tracking their every movement for the next hour or so. Chuuya couldn’t help but absolutely die inside at this being not only his first live interview, but also talking to Nikolai for it. The very second that Chuuya walked in and saw Nikolai, he lost his shit over how he wasn’t going to answer Nikolai’s questions even if you paid him a million dollars.

But guess who was on set, answering questions.

“Now, this may not be Dazai’s first time on this show, but it is our dear Nakahara’s, so let’s review our rules!” Nikolai smirked evil at them, which only made Chuuya more anxious. It was like Nikolai’s superpower was just to raise the fear levels of everyone around him. “Number one! Actors on this show must answer with upmost honesty and trust me- I know if you’re lying.”

The smirk that Nikolai gave made Chuuya shiver.

“Number two! Questions are made entirely by the live commenters and we choose randomly- who knows what might be answered today?” his demeanor did total flips rather frequently and now was one. He went from bone-chilling smiles to cute giggles in mere seconds.

“Number three! You have three skips each, so use them wisely!”

The two actors made eye contact for one last time before the questions would start up. Especially since the movie came out the previous day, both of them were more popular than ever. Now, they were able to get both questions about themselves and the movie characters, so at least half of these questions should be fine.

“First off- starting with a boring one,” Nikolai pouted. “What was your favorite scene to film?”

“Definitely the meeting between Kashimura and Tsushima,” Dazai smiled. “It was the first day on set, so I just have overall good memories from there.”

“What memories?” the interviewer pried.

“Chuuya punched me in the face!”

“You were being mean!” Chuuya bit back before any of the viewers thought that Chuuya was an asshole. “He made fun of me!”

“Okay, but you made fun of me too,” he stuck his tongue out at Chuuya like a child. Chuuya couldn’t help the way his lips twitched upwards for just a second. Then Dazai turned back to the camera, “But also it was really hot. Like- getting punched by Chuuya is a ten out of ten experience.”

“Shut up!”

“Noted,” Nikolai hummed. “Now, Chuuya, what was your favorite scene to film?”

It was the kiss scene. For obvious reasons. But Chuuya wasn’t going to reveal that on screen for the world to know. The world didn’t even know Dazai and Chuuya’s status together (nor did they since Dazai released that video), so how could Chuuya just say that he was head over heels ever since that damn kiss?

“Probably the scene where Kashimura tells Tsushima that he’s straight,” Chuuya shrugged. “Because seeing Dazai cry is always fun.”

“Liar, liar, liar alert!” Nikolai hit a button that caused a loud sound to blare through the room. Chuuya had to hold his ears because the noise was too loud, but Nikolai just looked happily at the duo regardless. “It’s dare time!”

Suddenly Chuuya heavily regrets not watching that much TV throughout his college years. Or listening to Nikolai when Nikolai was talking ever. Yeah, maybe that was Chuuya’s fault.

“Rule number four: when one or both guests lie on an answer, they must participate in a dare organized by none other than moi!” He clapped happily as a staff member brought over a bucket full of what was presumed to be dares. Sticking a hand in and pulling out a paper, he spoke again, “First dare of the night! Nakahara Chuuya, you must let Dazai Osamu wear lipstick and place a kiss on your cheek- the mark must stay for the rest of the interview!”

While Chuuya flushes the shade of his hair, Dazai is handed a deep red lipstick. All Chuuya can do is try to retort in an overly defensive voice, “Okay, but how do you even know if I’m lying or not?”

“I know everything!” Nikolai giggled. “Dazai, how’s the lip shade?”

“Doesn’t matter. Everything looks good on me anyway,” Dazai hummed, blowing a kiss to the camera. “How do I look, darlings?”

“Get over yourself,” Chuuya elbowed him lightly while the brunette pouted.

“You say that now, but when my lips are on you-”

“Just get it over with!” he huffed, shutting his eyes tightly as if he was getting a shot instead of a gentle kiss on the cheek. The second that he felt the familiar sensation of Dazai’s soft lips, he let out the breathe he’d been holding.

“How was that, love?” Dazai teased seductively in Chuuya’s ear, only making him flush harder. If you could even see the lipstick in his furious blushing, you had to have hella good eyesight.

“Nope! Nope, nope, nope, I can’t-”

“So, Chuuya, time to be honest!” Nikolai interrupted. “Now that your punishment has been successfully cleared, let’s revist the question at hand: what was your favorite scene to film?”

“It was the damn kiss scene!” Chuuya crossed his arms and looked away from the camera, away from Nikolai, and surely away from Dazai. “There! I said it! Let’s move on now!”

He would’ve remained embarrassed if it weren’t for the way he felt a light tug on the very end of his jacket, seeing Dazai’s hand motioning for Chuuya’s.

…

Fine. He can have it.

Chuuya’s hand rested nicely on top of Dazai’s, holding, but not holding- the camera would never know any better. And when Chuuya looked up at Dazai’s face, he could see that the younger was evidently doing his best to hold back a smile. Maybe it wasn’t totally awful.

“Next question! A juicy one!” Nikolai giggled reading it off of his little screen. “The viewers have been asking over and over again to no avail- what is your relationship status? How did Chuuya react to Dazai’s coming out video?”

Dazai and Chuuya shared a glance, just for one second, before Dazai raised their intertwined hands for the camera to see happily.

“We’re dating. I’m head over heels for this man,” Dazai was staring directly into Chuuya’s eyes as he spoke, as if he needed Chuuya to remember that. Chuuya couldn’t help but smile widely. And then, of course, Dazai turned back to the camera to joke with them, “But you know, dogs don’t live as long as people, so first come, first serve, ladies!”

“You asshole,” Chuuya grumbled, but it was obvious from the smile on his lips that he couldn’t even be upset about it.

Truth be told, they didn’t talk about their relationship at all since that December night. They just went back to how they were, friends who kiss and cuddle and love each other a little more than they wanted to admit. But it was obvious that Dazai still had concerns about it, so Chuuya didn’t want to bring it up until Dazai was ready anyway. Chuuya was the hopeless romantic of the two. He wanted Dazai more than anything. Two more months this close to him only proved his point further. Every day, he woke up thinking about how blissful his life was with Dazai in it. So yeah, he was kinda hoping that Dazai would bring it up.

This was him bringing it up.

“And did this relationship start post video?” Nikolai raised an eyebrow, pushing Chuuya to answer and give more information, like the fans obviously wanted. “Share with the class, why don’t ya?”

He let out a light cough before talking, “Well… I asked him to meet me somewhere and he did.”

“So boring! Give us details!” the host pouted.

“Okay, maybe we kissed,” Chuuya felt like he was being interrogated by his dads for the millionth time. He just awkwardly shrunk himself as much as he could and tried his best to look at the camera as he spoke. “But our relationship didn’t really start until a lot later.”

“Why not?” Nikolai pushed further, leaning over his seat to be as close to the duo as possible.

“Skip,” Chuuya called. No shot he was going to reveal all of his and Dazai’s trauma to the press for a stupid show of Nikolai’s.

“No fun!”

“He said skip,” Dazai raised an eyebrow, making sure that Nikolai listened to him- it was probably warning him about some kind of dirt he had. Chuuya just squeezed Dazai’s hand lightly. His own way of saying a silent thank you.

Dazai squeezed back three times.

Chapter Text

Ever since the premiere of ‘Stray Dogs’, fans have been absolutely going wild over the chemistry between the two lead actors: Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya. Almost every person to watch the movie came out of it wondering if the two actors were romantically involved in real life. Well, folks, buckle up because we’re about to unlock the secrets of this duo.

Rumors first started back in July, when Dazai and Nakahara were caught holding hands while at a makeup store and seen going back to a hotel room. At the time, Nakahara’s status as Dazai’s coworker was unknown, but it’s now speculated that he was the man in the photo, with the same haircut and color.

Afterwards, Dazai claimed to date Akiko Yosano, who starred on the mafia show ‘Secrets of the Port’ with him. That calmed the rumors down enough that everyone had given up on the theory of Dazai’s homosexuality. That was until mid-September when trailers for ‘Stray Dogs’ released and Mori Ougai, Dazai’s former agent, revealed information regarding Nakahara abusing Dazai and that they were, in fact, in a relationship.

In late September, Dazai released his own statement through many social media platforms, addressing every negative accusation about Nakahara and debunking them with evidence. He ended that video confessing his love to his coworker and coming out to the world as bisexual.

Throughout September, the two continued to make appearances on interviews, carpets, and overall engaged with each other as if nothing had been stated. It was as if Dazai’s video never happened in the first place. For months and months, us fans have had little to nothing to go off of. What were they to each other?

As of February 14, Dazai and Nakahara admitted that they were in a relationship and had been more than friends for a while. (Click here to see the interview!)

For weeks now, people have trended the hashtag “Double Black” as their ship name and have taken over the internet with their thoughts on this duo. Popular tweets shown below!

@chuuyasbtch
OHMYGODD GUYS IT HAPPENED !!
im the number one #doubleblack shipper never forget

@shujiontop
i told yall that redhead from forever ago was fine as hell
#doubleblack gang going strong

@osamuuuuu
Guys, be honest. #doubleblack isn’t actually that cute.
Gay people just wanna force their agenda on Dazai.

@kissingdachuu
#doubleblack and i are actually a throuple… (real!)

The past month has been hectic for them and we’ve seen plenty of appearances from both of them in this time. While people thought that they would continue to do these interviews, they were recently seen getting on a bullet train to Tokyo. All of the filming and interviews have been done in Yokohama up until this point, so what do we think? Are they simply travelling for an interview or are they going for more private reasons?

Let us know your thoughts!

Chapter Text

“They know.”

Chuuya sighed, letting his backpack fall from his shoulder to the floor of their hotel room. He looked at his phone with a frown for a second, then turned it off to see Dazai already collapsed on the bed. “At least take your shoes off first, asshole!”

“Too tired,” he whined. “Take them off for me!”

“I’m not your fucking servant!”

“But you’re my dog, which is basically the same thing!” Dazai turned his head to look at his boyfriend (holy shit, they were boyfriends) with a stupid smile on his face. With a sigh, Chuuya moved to grab Dazai’s ankle. To yank him out of bed. “You meanie!”

“No shoes on my bed!”

“Ugh, fine!” he pouted as he harshly took his shoes off, like a little kid throwing some kind of mini-tantrum. Despite Chuuya’s annoyance, he let a smile make its way to his lips as he thought about how cute the younger was. “Happy now?”

“Very,” the redhead rolled his eyes as Dazai got back on the bed and instinctively grabbed a pillow to hold. Taking off his own shoes, Chuuya laid down next to Dazai and gave him a light kick under the bed. “I’m here, asshole. Don’t tell me you replaced me with a pillow already.”

“Pillow doesn’t hurt me like Chibi does,” Dazai huffed. Annoying ass.

Chuuya sighed after a second, “Are you seriously good about people knowing that we’re here in Tokyo? I can ask people to deny that rumor if you want.”

“The press always knows what city I’m in,” Dazai shrugged. “Just not my hotel or host house or anything more.”

“You feel safe enough to stay for the week?”

“Mhm, I’ve got an annoying dog to bark at any intruders!” he wrapped his arms around Chuuya, nuzzling his head against Chuuya’s.

“You’re such an asshole,” the older huffed back, using his arm to jokingly push at Dazai, forcing him off. “Can’t even go one second without making fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun!” Dazai pouted with a whine, “You’re my dog, aren’t you?”

“As if,” Chuuya grumbled back, but still pulled Dazai back into him, as if he wasn’t just shoving him of mere seconds ago. “Dogs are too heavenly to be compared a sexy devil such as myself.”

“It’s because you’re my angel.”

“...”

“Not even a laugh?”

“Go jump off a cliffside,” the smile marked on Chuuya’s lips at Dazai’s awful attempt at a pickup line contrasted his words entirely. Despite Dazai’s pout, he also was struggling to keep the edges of his lips from twitching up.

“Only when I find a beautiful maiden worthy of dying by my side!” he recited dramatically, which only made Chuuya roll his eyes more.

“Shut up, asshole. Your boyfriend’s right damn in front of you,”

“Hm? I don’t see him?” Dazai shut his eyes like a little child, shrugging as he spoke.

“Then stop fucking cuddling him,”

“But Chibi’s so soft and squishy!” he whined more, pinching Chuuya’s skin and stretching it as if showing him an example.

“Go to hell,” the redhead pouted, rubbing where his skin was being pulled. “And get some damn sleep, we have a long day tomorrow. Plus whatever secret mission of your own that you were planning.”

“But I don’t wanna!”

“Stop kicking your legs before I commit murder,” Chuuya kicked back at Dazai, making him let out a whine. “Even if you aren’t gonna sleep, I’m gonna try to get at least six hours.”

“Fine,” Dazai let out a hmph, pulling Chuuya closer to him. “Only because my chibikko is gonna be cranky without it.”

“Who’re you calling cranky, jackass?!”

“You,”

“I-” he didn’t have a genuine comeback for that. He should’ve expected that answer from Dazai. “Shut up.”

Being in Dazai’s hold didn’t allow him to stay awake for too much longer. Insomnia had been an issue for Chuuya since he was young, but when he was in Dazai’s arms, it was something he never even had to think about. It just took over him.

By the time Chuuya woke up the next morning, Dazai was already gone for whatever he was planning. Something that he refused to tell Chuuya about, though Chuuya never really pushed for the younger to say anything. It was just something mentioned on the train in the softest of whispers.

“I’m going to leave early tomorrow to go get something.”

“Sure,” Chuuya hummed from his place on Dazai’s shoulder, eyes trying to look at Dazai without leaving their comfortable position. Dazai seemed surprised by the lack of interrogation, but just hummed back.

And of course, Chuuya was curious about what Dazai seemed so serious about, but he knew that Dazai would’ve said it if he wanted to. Instead of sitting alone in the hotel room until the interview in an hour, Chuuya allowed himself to roam the streets of Tokyo, exploring the capital city of the country he’d lived in for years. Somehow, he’d manage to avoid it for this long.

The streets were lined with shops and more shops, tourist attractions and resturaunts lied at every corner, begging people to visit. Chuuya seemed to disappear into the crowd of people- he wasn’t a famous actor here, he was just one of the thousands of passerbys. It was refreshing in a way. Well, he thought it was until he heard his name called amongst the ruckus of the early morning.

“Nakahara Chuuya?”

Curse Chuuya for turning around. He knew that he should learn to tune out his name to avoid masses of people trying to get pictures or autographs, but he was still kinda new to this stuff. The voice sounded a little old, far older than he’d expect a fan of the show to be, and when he turned around, the wrinkles on her face were evident. Not that Chuuya judged- he was just shocked, perhaps.

“I’m so sorry,” Chuuya gave an apologetic smile as he faced the woman. She had wide, brown eyes and matching colored hair thrown up in a bun, though a few greys were noticeable in the bunch. In a way her face felt familiar. Like a face he knew well, but he brushed that off. “I don’t do autographs.”

“No, no,” she shook her head. She was staring at him as if he were a ghost- as if his very existence shocked her to her core. He saw every stagger in her breaths, every time her eyes flickered up and down his body, examining every inch. “Let me introduce myself.”

Chuuya nodded for her to continue.

“My name is Tane. Dazai Tane.”

- - -

Dazai splashed water in his face over and over.

He was trying his hardest not to wake up Chuuya at such an early time, considering they’d only gotten to the hotel room less than three hours ago. Sleep didn’t come by Chuuya easily, and Dazai didn’t want to be the reason that he was less rested than normal. But at the same time, he was nearly impossible to not bang his head against the wall time and time again. He fought off that thought with all his might and channeled that into splashing cold water all over himself. Wake up.

Everything was going to be alright. He would go in, get the stuff, get out. And he’d have time to calm himself down before the interview too. Two hours was more than enough, right?

With every step he took, Dazai asked himself if he was really going to go through with all of this. Maybe it was too soon- maybe he needed to give himself time to process before doing something this big. Maybe it was too late- too much time had passed and nothing could be done anyway. And it was illegal. It was certainly illegal. But that never stopped him before.

He didn’t even realize that he’d been so caught up in his thoughts until he arrived right outside the building that he swore to never see again. The rotating doors and gold lining were exactly the same as they had been years ago. From outside, you could see the fancy couches and rugs and bars and- it was too soon. Dazai couldn’t do this.

But his feet still carried him forward. He wasn’t Dazai Osamu, the man who would give anything to be normal. He was Dazai Osamu, the demon prodigy of acting.

“I have a rather odd question,” Dazai walked up to the receptionist confidently, tapping his fingers on the desk as the only way to let out his nervous energy. The bandages on his skin felt more scratchy than anything in that moment, and somehow it was amplified by the look the receptionist gave him. “How long do your cameras save recordings?”

“I’m not sure. How long ago are you looking for?”

“... about seven years.”

“I’ll gladly see what I can do,” she smiled, but it turned into more of a smirk when she raised her eyebrow, “For a price.”

“What might that be?” Dazai was fully prepared for this, but he didn’t think that it would be an offer from the receptionist- he was used to needing to bargain, not accepting them.

“Dazai Osamu,” the name sounded like venom on her tongue, but it had this strange sense of familiarity to it. A familiarity that sent shivers down Dazai’s back. “You’re asking me to search the security cameras from seven years past, which is going to be insanely difficult, especially if you don’t know the room number, which I doubt anyone would after so many years. Not to mention, it’s downright illegal, considering the hotel was likely booked under Mori Ougai’s name, not your own. Am I right?”

“I suppose.”

“Then show me what a good time is and I’ll consider it.”

To clear things up, Dazai never claimed to be a good person. Never claimed to have gotten better. Never claimed to be a good boyfriend. Never claimed to know what the fuck he was doing.

He knew that he was on a time limit, that this girl was unlike the other one-night stands he used, and that he needed to get that footage. Even if he couldn’t trial her for the pain he went through, he needed to see it and know that it was real. To see the person who pushed him to break.

Yet the real reason he followed through was that her voice caused something to happen in Dazai’s brain. It was like mind control in a way- the way that it made Dazai just listen to her while the rest of his body screamed to run away.

As always, he let his brain go on autopilot as she dragged him to the nearest broom closet, making sure that not a soul witnessed the motion. There was no time for chaste kisses or foreplay, just pushing her harshly against the wall and sticking his tongue down her throat as sensually as he could. It’d been a while since the last time he’d actually thought about how to kiss, since it always felt so natural with Chuuya. This… just felt wrong.

Her soft moans rang like nails on a chalkboard- why was his brain telling him to run away? The conflict between his brain and body caused him to just flinch a few times, praying that she didn’t notice his weird nervousness. He trailed his lips down her body, unbuttoning her shirt as he went lower. Lace underwear. It only brought back memories that made his brain malfunction even more than before.

Sex had never felt good, but more importantly, it only ever felt bad once. It never made him flinch when the other person moaned or whined- never made him physically need to stop. But despite the mental anguish it had on him, he kept going. He kept going in and out, hoping that the way he shut his eyes in pain looked like pleasure. Nothing in the world was more relieving than when she finally orgasmed and Dazai could run away from the hotel- run away from the world.

“You were better than last time, you know,” she hummed in her haze, reaching for her discarded blouse with a smile. “But I think I’d still prefer you compliant like a doll for me to use.”

The words didn’t process right in Dazai’s brain. He blinked harshly two times before speaking, trying to ignore the way his breath hitched, “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, Osamu,” the name made him flinch again. Harsher this time. “You remember last time, don’t you? That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”

“Who… are you?”

“You know you loved it. And you came back here to get the footage so that you can get off to it again. It’s a shame that boyfriend of yours can’t please you as well as I do,” the noise of her heels hitting the ground rang loudly in Dazai’s ears. She just shrugged. “But I can’t help you get that recording back.”

“But-”

“Trust me, I want it too, but we delete all footage within a month of checkout. Sorry, love, but at least you can have this memory to jerk off to. Maybe you’ll see me working the desk again sometime,” as she spoke, she took steps towards Dazai until she was right in front of him. Her face was mere centimeters from his and she put a finger on his chin. “Or maybe I’ll find you again and we can recreate that night.”

There was so much that Dazai wanted to yell in that moment. She needed to know how much she fucked up his entire life, how much pain she caused him. He wanted to punch her, to hear her scream in agony as she paid for everything. And of all of the things he was trying to say, all that came out was a whine. A pained, fearful whine.

“Cute,” she smirked before turning around and leaving him there in the closet, all by himself. “See you around, love.”

The sound of the door closing was the last he heard for a while as he fell to the ground. His legs couldn’t hold him up any longer. It was like everything was going into overdrive and was ready to explode at any moment. Tears fell from his eyes, one after another, but he wasn’t even concious enough to recognize that. All he knew was that he needed a razor right fucking now. Or a bottle of alcohol.

Or Chuuya.

What would Chuuya say about this? Would he hate Dazai forever? Dazai wouldn’t blame him if he did. Dazai hated himself too- for cheating on him, for getting tricked, for letting her take advantage of him again, for wanting something for himself for once. Why did he think that he could change things? That he could take revenge for his past self?

He was so fucking pathetic.

“Don’t call me that,” he whispered long after she left.

- - -

“How is he?”

Tane stared at her tea as she spoke, sitting like a statue in contrast to the busy, bustling nature around her.

“I think that you should ask him that yourself,” Chuuya sipped his coffee but didn’t stop looking at the woman for a second.

“I miss him, you know.”

“I won’t say anything that he wouldn’t want me to say, but just know that he misses you too,” he thought carefully about his words. This was for her to talk out with Dazai, not Chuuya. “He wouldn’t be opposed to you reaching out.”

“When I first heard that he had a boyfriend, I wasn’t very pleased,” she admitted, finally picking up her cup and giving it the smallest of sips. “But you seem like a very sweet boy.”

“Thank you?”

“I understand why he’d think that he’s homosexual if you treat him as well as you talk about him.”

“Excuse me?” Chuuya flinched out of pure shock in her words. It suddenly didn’t matter who she was, Chuuya wasn’t going to let anyone talk about his boyfriend like that. He just narrowed his eyes and made his words drip with aggression. “He’s actually bi, and he doesn’t “think” he is- he just is.”

“It’s one of those things you’ll understand when you’re older,” she shrugs off, waving her hand as if it were something that they would just move past. “Despite how much I wanted him to stay when he was young, I’m grateful that he became an actor.”

There was a moment of silence before she continued.

“I didn’t think he’d be able to make it. I wanted him to be rich and successful- he managed that, mostly. Lets me brag about him. Dating you and starring in that movie are probably the only two things that have upset me- now everyone thinks I raised him poorly.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I see that you want the best for him, and trust me, I do as well, but if you continue to be with him like this, he’ll never find a girl to settle down with. For the sake of not only me, but also Osamu-”

“I don’t know who you think you are talking to me about him like this,” Chuuya glared at her, not even trying to hide his anger at this point. He stood up from the chair, hands slamming on the table. “Don’t even act like you fucking care about him when you haven’t bothered to talk to him.”

“It’s more difficult than-”

“Do I look like I care how difficult it is?” he scoffed. “If I had a son even half as successful as Osamu, I would be doing whatever it takes to talk to him- scratch that, I don’t care how fucking successful my son is, I’m not letting them out of my life. Because I want to be there for them!”

Chuuya took a harsh breath in, allowing her to talk, but she just avoided eye contact. He couldn’t help but get more upset by her lack of reaction.

“You wanna know something? Osamu loved you. Still loves you. And every time he spoke about his family, he would mention that he wanted to find you and meet you someday. He wanted you to be proud of him and make him dinner and take him shopping like normal parents do. And he wished that he listened to you all this time and he thought- God forbid- that you actually wanted what was best for him.”

He shook his head in disgust at the woman in front of him.

“When I heard that he broke the snow globe you gave him, I thought that that was the most devastating thing that he could’ve done. I thought that it was crazy how he did that because I would kill to have something from my biological parents proving to me that they loved me!” he didn’t notice the tears building up in his eyes. Fuck him for being so damn emotional all the time. “He thought that you loved him. But all you care about is how other people think you raised him, as if you did at all.”

Tane sipped her tea as if there wasn’t someone yelling right in front of her. She was pathetic. Awful. Waste of time. Waste of Osamu’s love.

“I’m so glad that he never really met you.”

Chapter Text

Nakahara Chuuya had never been more relieved to get a phone call in his life.

He knew that he was late when he showed up for the interview- knew that he’d taken too long calming himself down and thinking about the millions of things he could tell Dazai. His phone was blowing up long before he got to the filming site, but he refused to answer any of them. He wasn’t in the mood.

Apparently, Dazai wasn’t either.

Sirens were flashing in Chuuya’s head, screaming that something was so desperately wrong, but he simply froze. If it was an emergency, Dazai wouldn’t have returned to the hotel room, would he have? It was almost like fate that he called seconds later.

“I-” a hushed sniffle came from the other side of the line, “I can’t escape.”

“Escape where?” Chuuya blinked immediately, hearing the crack of Dazai’s voice. He didn’t even stop to let the interviewers know where he was going before he sped away from set. This was far more important. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m there… there again.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that right now, Osamu.”

“Hotel.”

It sounded like every single word was lined with pain- like it physically hurt him to speak. Everything was kept hushed, as if he were scared of someone hearing. Maybe he was scared of Chuuya hearing it.

“I’m on my wa-”

“Not that one,” Dazai’s voice was so quiet that Chuuya almost missed it. “The one… the old one.”

Oh.

“What the hell were you doing at that hotel?” Chuuya thought out loud, sounding more upset than he meant to. He wasn’t upset at Dazai- just confused and stressed. That was never a good combination.

The silence that followed indicated that Dazai didn’t take it lightly.

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way,” he tried to speak softer, calmer. His steps still picked up- he needed to get there as soon as he could. “Are you just in the lobby-”

“Closet.”

Of course, Chuuya’s first thought was that he had no clue what Dazai would be doing in a closet, but maybe he should save those questions for later. So he forced himself to bite his tongue and ask the more important one for now, “What closet? Where do I go?”

“Past the desk. To the right,”

“Stay calm and stay put, Mackerel. Keep breathing for me.”

Chuuya refused to end the call until he was at the hotel. He refused to leave Dazai alone right now. All he could do was try to calm the younger down, make sure that he was okay. Make sure that he was alive. (With no idea about the scenario, he just had to pray that Dazai hadn’t downed a bottle of medicines or taken the closest razor to his wrist. He trusted that Dazai would at least try to hold back, but he knew how hard it was sometimes.)

“I’m here, love,” Chuuya spoke into the phone, pushing through the doors of the building and rushing towards the door Dazai directed him to. He tried to pretend that Dazai’s breath didn’t hitch at the name.

The first thing that he noticed when he opened the door was the smell. But apparently, joking about it at the moment wasn’t the smartest thing to do. “Smells like sex in here. Wonder how many workers use this room to fuck on their breaks.”

All that he got as a response was a flinch. A physical flinch from Dazai.

Dazai, who was on the ground, hands by his sides and knees pushed in as close to his body as they could manage. His phone sat next to him, having just ended the call with Chuuya.

“What happened?” Chuuya finally asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I- She- We…” Dazai took a deep breath in, pretending that it actually was normal breathing instead of a gasp for air. “I had sex with... her.”

“Her raping you doesn’t-”

“No,” his voice was more firm than it had been all day. “She didn’t do anything this time. It- it was just me.”

If Chuuya said that he felt his heart drop into his stomach as Dazai spoke, he meant it. He swallowed as deeply as he could and nodded in pure shock. “What- uh- what happened?”

“I told you,” Dazai avoided eye contact with Chuuya like the plague, eyes firmly planted on his feet in front of him. His hands were also still as ever, held on the ground as if there were glue attached to them. “I had-”

“That’s not all, is it?” Chuuya sat down across from Dazai, trying to look into his eyes. “If it was, you wouldn’t have called me while crying. And you wouldn’t be stuck in this tiny ass broom closet for more than ten minutes.”

When Dazai didn’t speak, Chuuya continued.

“You’re an asshole, Osamu. But you’re too smart to call me after cheating on me unless there was some reason you did it. So tell me. Let me understand.”

“I wanted the footage,” he spoke as if Chuuya knew what he meant. After a second, he elaborated. “I wanted to see that night. See the person who… did that. Maybe even take her to court- I don’t fucking know.”

“Okay,” the redhead nodded, trying to connect the unconnectable dots.

“She said that she would if I… I’m sorry,” Dazai repeated as another tear welled up in his eye. “I didn’t even know that it was her- I didn’t know she- I-”

“It’s okay, take your time,” Chuuya reached to grab Dazai’s hand but it flinched away immediately. Small red stains were left on the ground where they were. Did he-? “Can I see your hand?”

Almost as if it were an instinct, Dazai tightened his raised hand into a fist and flinched at it. It was still clear to Chuuya that Dazai had somehow cut his hand- the blood trailing down his bandages was more than enough evidence. Dazai didn’t seem to notice it, only looking at Chuuya with pained eyes.

“Do you wanna go home?”

Chuuya hoped that Dazai would never nod so desperately again in his entire life.

Unfortunately for everyone, home had to mean the hotel room that they’d been in for less than a full day. It wasn’t like Dazai really had a place that he could openly consider his home anyway, so he supposed it wasn’t like Dazai truly missed any material place.

Despite how quickly- how hopelessly- he nodded his head, it seemed like he couldn’t get himself up. It was like his legs were stuck and Dazai still refused to accept any help for fear that Chuuya would notice the torn scraps of skin all over his hands. As if Chuuya hadn’t already.

“Take your time,” Chuuya hummed, taking off his jacket and placing it between them like a peace offering. Dazai reached for it, but mid-action, he forced himself back against the wall. His eyes must have been asking his silent questions for him because Dazai looked down at himself and sighed.

“I don’t want to dirty it,” he whispered.

“My jacket can get a little bloody,” if the redhead didn’t bite his tongue, he would’ve accidentally mentioned his rebellious past. Scratched-up hands were nothing compared to bullet or stab wounds from his past. He let himself talk again once he properly found the words. “I don’t give a shit as long as you’re feeling better.”

“Why?”

“The fuck you mean “why”? I care about you, dumbass, and this jacket barely even cost two thousand yen. If you really don’t want to ruin it, just buy me a new one and we’ll call it even.”

“Why are you still here?” Dazai breathed out as if it were weighing on his chest the whole time. “I literally cheated on you and you were obviously hurt by it, so why are you still trying to take care of me?”

He stared intently at his shoes, as if looking at Chuuya would show that Chuuya was truly enraged and ready to hurt him. But Chuuya wasn’t. And he wanted Dazai to know that he would never even think about genuinely hurting him.

“Osamu,” Chuuya started, trying to think of how to even begin phrasing his thoughts. “You are the most… insufferable person I’ve met in my entire life, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think that anyone knows how to irritate me the way that you do. And- and you always say the wrong thing and always think that it’s easier to hurt me now rather than later. You do all of these things that either get on my nerves or make me want to smash my skull into a wall or cry in the bathroom until I can understand whether you hate me or love me.

“But guess what, Osamu,” he sighed. “That’s the person I fell in love with. I knew that I was going to get hurt. I knew that you pushed people away just so that you could hurt yourself. I knew that you would make mistakes that would make me feel like getting drunk and kicking things until it all went away. But you're also so much more than that.

“You’re traumatized. You don’t understand emotions because you were told that you didn’t have any. So be a little damn more lenient with yourself, because I can clearly see that you aren’t happy with what you did. You’re getting better and that isn’t always linear. I trust you, so start to have some trust in yourself. And if it’s anyone’s fault that I’m still here despite the ache in my chest, it’s my own.”

“Chuuya…”

“You’re insufferable still, but you’re also smart, thoughtful, and- dare I say- annoyingly hot. You’re Osamu. And I’d rather be here with you when it hurts. Just don’t pull that shit again and we can call it even. Deal?” Chuuya reached out his pinky like a young child, seeing the twitch of Dazai’s lips at the action. Dazai hesitantly took Chuuya’s pinky in his own, sealing the promise. “Now, for real this time, let's get the fuck out of here.”

This time, Dazai let himself stand up.

Patching up Dazai’s hands was no harder than patching up his arms, so there was really no big issue, other than the disgusting clumps of skin that had scratched off, hanging on by threads. If they could’ve gotten an actual doctor, it would’ve been far more beneficial than Chuuya’s poor handiwork. Unfortunately, lines of flesh coming off were a lot more disgusting than the deep wounds that he’d dealt with before.

Chuuya’s oversized jacket fit almost perfectly on Dazai, allowing the younger something soft to wrap himself up in while his hands were being tended to in the safety of their own hotel room bathroom. Even with his strong pain tolerance, Dazai hissed a few times at the different products against his skin. Before Chuuya put the bandages on, Dazai stopped him, “I need to shower first.”

“Dazai Osamu actually taking care of his hygiene before getting in bed? Is it really you?” Chuuya joked, but Dazai just continued to look down and avoid eye contact.

“She’s still… on me,” he explained, licking his teeth anxiously after speaking.

Oh.

“Yeah- uh- take your time,” the older nodded, giving a light rub on his arm before leaving him in the bathroom to do as he needed.

Chuuya had never gone through anything like this- he didn’t know how to even start to properly help Dazai deal with everything. He didn’t know how Dazai was feeling and he couldn’t even ask Dazai how he was feeling because Dazai didn’t know either. All that he could do was heal his wounds and tell him everything he needed to hear. It wasn’t enough.

Dazai’s shower seemed to have lasted for ages, and when he came out, his skin was burning red- from boiling water or harsh scratching, Chuuya didn’t know, but he could definitely assume that it was a mixture of both. He’d taken the time to bandage his arms and hands, but it was almost concerning that Chuuya could still see bits and pieces of blood peeking through. How much blood must’ve gone down the drain? How much was stuck, stained to the hotel walls?

When Dazai looked around the room, as if he were seeing it for the first time, avoiding Chuuya’s eyes like the plague, Chuuya waved Dazai over. He wouldn’t have moved if he thought that Chuuya was simply pitying him, so Chuuya decided to at least pretend that it was for himself. “Ay, asshole. I wanna take a nap so get your butt over here and cuddle me.”

If Dazai knew that Chuuya was lying, he only showed it with the slightest of smiles as he made his way into the bed, holding Chuuya’s waist as if Chuuya would die if he let go.

All that Chuuya could do in response was wrap his arms around Dazai’s head gently, cradling him as close as possible. He laid a kiss on his boyfriend’s hair, smiling sadly against it.

Chuuya didn’t lie earlier- he wasn’t the type- but that didn’t mean that there was no burn in his chest. That also didn’t mean that there were no questions about what happened and what Dazai had done in the past. Was this normal for him? To just sleep with people to get what he wanted? Or was it a subconscious feeling of being trapped in a relationship that led him to do it? But Chuuya wasn’t going to voice that when Dazai was in his arms, holding him like they were the last people on Earth.

Incomprehensible words were muttered against Chuuya’s chest, sounding like gibberish from Dazai’s fuzzy, tired brain.

“Huh?”

“I said,” the gibberish came back again. His voice sounded even softer this time, as if he’d gotten shy all of a sudden. As if shy would ever be a word to describe Dazai Osamu. He nuzzled his head against the older’s chest like a cat.

Taking a wild gander, Chuuya simply said, “Goodnight,” softly and threaded his fingers through Dazai’s hair, scratching lightly through his locks. That seemed to suffice as an answer, because Dazai just nodded against his chest. Chuuya didn’t remember falling asleep, just the feeling of Dazai in his arms, holding onto him so sweet.

Chapter Text

March came and went.

April jumped on them quicker than ever, making their already short time even shorter. As much as Chuuya was aching to go back to his parents and truly begin his life the way he’d dreamed of, there was a longing in his chest. It felt like he’d built his own home here in Japan as well.

Tachihara, his best friend since he first moved to Japan, was going to have a new roommate and their familiar apartment would no longer be theirs. Ryuunosuke, who he saw as a younger brother, would rely on his sister during their big outings, no longer having Chuuya to watch over him and talk to him. Gin, who- despite her age- acted like an older sister to him, would no longer be there to stop Chuuya from getting blackout drunk and making bad decisions. Higuchi, the girl who always understood Chuuya in a way, wouldn’t be able to have drinking games with him or ramble about her favorite actors.

And Dazai…

Chuuya snuck himself out of Dazai’s arms the night before his flight. Normally Dazai’s presence helped him sleep, but he wouldn’t have that comfort anymore. That thought kept him up long after Dazai had drifted off into his own sweet slumber. He rushed to throw a sweater on, sneaking out as quietly as possible so that he didn’t wake his boyfriend or his roommate. Though, for all Chuuya knew, Tachihara could’ve still been up, stressing over his college work. That was a frequent sight these days.

Wandering aimlessly, he stared at the sky, wondering if he would ever see the Yokohama stars like this again. He planned on visiting Yokohama again in the future, but it wouldn’t be the same ever again. Just like how France was different now too. It was like everything around him was growing and changing and, for the first time, Chuuya’d been growing too.

The Chuuya who first met the Flags was so insanely different than the man he saw reflecting in the windows as he passed store after store. He understood things now, knew how to actually enjoy life, rather than letting it weigh down on him. Even if things were going to be different, he was going to allow it to happen. He was going to be happy no matter what.

A full moon could be seen in the deep sky, looking intoxicating in Chuuya’s eyes. Why had he never taken the time to look at the world around him before? Why was it only now that he allowed himself these pleasures?

“Nakahara?”

Chuuya flinched at the voice calling for him, seeing Ryuunosuke standing at the bus stop. The look that they shared held more emotion than he’d ever seen from the younger. “Ryuu.”

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” he asked, suddenly breaking the eye contact. As if he’d shown too much of his heart to the other from one single glance.

“Says you,” the redhead smiled back, punching the other’s arm lightly and sitting on the armrest of the bench. When he was met without further banter, he sighed. “Is it weird that I’m not ready to say goodbye yet?”

“Of course not.”

Ryuu really was a man of few words. Chuuya lips twitched upwards as he thought about that. “No elaboration?”

He shook his head, “You’re a strong man, Nakahara. That doesn’t mean that you’re fearless.”

“Do you think that going back to France is the right option?” Chuuya asked as if it wasn’t too late. As if he wasn’t leaving in mere hours.

“You know what’s right for you. Don’t allow other people to change that,” he didn’t face the older as he spoke, only staring straight at where the bus would be in just a few minutes. Before Chuuya could respond- as if he could sense Chuuya’s response- he gave the slightest of glances towards him, “You aren’t abandoning Yokohama by returning to Paris. If Paris is the place you feel that you need to be, no one can stop you.”

Giving a genuine smile, Chuuya looked at Ryuu with love- pure, unbridled love. “Thank you-”

He was interrupted by the sound of the bus arriving in front of them, doors opening loudly as Ryuu finally looked at him again. He’d grown up so much since Chuuya met him.

“Your fathers may be in Paris, but you still have family in Yokohama,” with those words, he stepped onto the bus, adding on a quick note. “Let us know when you visit.”

“As if I’d forget,” Chuuya called after him.

Chuuya swore he saw a glimpse of a smile from the bus window. Ryuu was right; just because he was building his life in Paris didn’t mean that Yokohama would be nothing more than a memory. When he left France to attend university, he wasn’t forgetting about it- his parents would always be there. The Flags would always be there.

France might be different, Yokohama might be different, but Chuuya knew that he would always recognize the two as home.

“Chuuya!” A familiar voice called in the distance once more.

Tachihara.

“What’s up? Why are you out of breath?” Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as his roommate gasped desperately for air, panting like a dog.

“I- I wanted to give you-”

He interrupted himself by throwing his arms around Chuuya, pulling him as close as possible and just holding him there. Chuuya was taken aback by the sudden motion, but eased himself into it. Part of him felt like wet drops were falling against his shoulder, but he thought he was hallucinating it. That was quickly disproven when Tachihara let out a wet sob. Chuuya didn’t even notice that a tear was welling up in his eye at his best friend’s affection.

“I was so scared,” the younger admitted through broken sobs. “You- you weren’t in your room and I never asked when your flight was since I’ve been so fucking busy these days. And I r- realized that this might be the last- last moment I can hug you as a roommate. As my best- my best friend.”

Immediately, Chuuya pulled him impossibly closer, squeezing him tight- as if he would die if he let go, “You’ll always be my best friend, Tachi. It doesn’t matter if I’m off in Paris- you’re stuck with me for life.”

“Sounds like a really bad life,” he joked through breaths, without loosening his hold on Chuuya.

“Then stop hugging me, idiot.”

“Shut up,” Tachihara laughed while the two held each other as close as humanly possible.

It was nice.

Silence took over them while they let the moment sink in. Their last hug before saying goodbye. Tachihara would have classes all day and Chuuya wasn’t going to make him miss that just for him. Chuuya would call, he’d visit, he’d force Tachihara to talk to him all the damn time. It would be fine. But this was still their final moment together.

“What if I fell asleep?” Tachihara whispered into Chuuya’s shoulder.

“Hm?”

“What if I fell asleep and woke up and you were gone? I don’t know if I could live with myself if that happened.”

“I would’ve woken you up before leaving. I’m too annoying to leave without bothering you,” Chuuya smiled as if he wasn’t also crying. “You know that, asshole.”

“Jerk,”

“Dumbass,” he responded fondly. “Let’s get back home and sleep a little before my flight and your classes, okay?”

“I’m gonna miss you… so fucking much.”

“I’ll miss you too,” Chuuya rubbed his back comfortingly. “I’ll miss you too.”

It didn’t take too long for them to break apart, knowing that both of them needed to be awake soon for their own respective things. They walked back to their apartment, hand in hand, knowing that this wasn’t goodbye to their old life. This was just a turn in the road. A good one.

When they made it back and hugged one last time, they went to their beds and were ready to fall into deep slumber.

Dazai was still sound asleep on Chuuya’s bed, clutching onto his blanket, as if it would run away from him otherwise. Chuuya couldn’t help but smile at the adorable sight. He climbed in next to his boyfriend, throwing Dazai’s arm over his waist and holding it there. They would be okay.

Everything between waking up and the flight was a blur to Chuuya. The entire ride to the airport felt miserable as Dazai and Chuuya sat silently in the backseat of the uber. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge the situation, but they made eye contact every so often. Chuuya was excited, of course, but leaving Dazai felt like the most difficult part of it all. Dazai was the one who taught him how to survive here- the first person to notice his pain. The only person who truly understood him.

Even when he visited France, it was with Dazai. Dazai had been with him through the frantic past year. Dazai had seen his highest points and his lowest; he knew that he’d seen Dazai’s too.

Airport check-ins and lines seemed to last an eternity. By the time they’d made it to the right sector, there were only minutes before the plane would be ready for boarding. Chuuya turned to Dazai, needing these last moments with him more than anything else in his life.

“Osamu-”

“This isn’t a sad moment,” Dazai smiled down at his boyfriend, grabbing his arm and caressing it. “Don’t make something this exciting sad.”

Chuuya let out a soft laugh, “You’re right.”

“I’m always right, Chibi.”

“Shut up, asshat.”

With that, he gave his boyfriend a soft kiss, almost as if he was trying not to overstep. He obviously wasn’t, since as soon as Chuuya pulled away, Dazai brought him back in again. More passionately, more emotionally.

Despite Dazai’s words, Chuuya could tell that he was scared. It was never an emotion that Dazai showed, and if he knew his tells, he would get rid of them immediately. But he couldn’t change the emotion behind their kiss. He couldn’t take that away no matter how much he detached himself.

There were the normal sparks, the fluttery feeling in his chest, the electricity that flowed between them. But there was something new. Desperation. Pure desperation.

“Boarding Flight 3184!” a voice boomed on the speaker. “Now boarding Flight 3184!”

Dazai would’ve never admitted how much he wanted Chuuya to stay; Chuuya knew that. He knew that Dazai loved him more than Dazai loved anything. And Chuuya was selfish- God, he was so, so selfish.

Maybe that’s why he did things on such a whim.

“Come to France with me.”

Chuuya breathed out as soon as he pulled away from the kiss, the words coming out as a whisper against his boyfriend’s lips.

“Chuu…” he looked at Chuuya with a shocked, guilty expression. “I can’t. I have a job-”

“You’ve wanted to quit for forever,” the redhead pleaded. “I know that, you know that. If you don’t want to be an actor, this is your chance to get away- to go to France and start over.”

“I…”

“Now boarding Flight 3184!”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chuuya looked down to avoid eye contact. “But you’re always welcome at my dads’ place, and mine once I get an apartment. And you can model my clothing or go to college or be a housewife or anything because no matter what, I’ll be happy if you’re here.”

“Last call for Flight 3184!”

“I love you, Osamu-”

Not a second was wasted as Dazai crashed his lips into Chuuya’s, kissing him so much more passionately, so much more emotionally than before. Tears were falling between them and Chuuya didn’t know if they were Dazai’s or his own. Either way, he was taken out of the kiss almost as quickly as he was brought into it.

“I love you too, Chuuya,” he spoke firmly despite his tears. “I’ll be there with you soon.”

“You’ll come?”

“I’d always come for you,” Dazai whispered, as if it were his greatest secret. Letting out a soft, sweet sounding laugh, he pulled himself away from his lover, “Now board your damn flight before they take off without you.”

Chuuya just smiled back, squeezing Dazai’s hand one last time before running off.

- - -

Dazai would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered moving to France before.

The only thing keeping him in Japan was the fact that he’d never been anywhere else- that and his friends, though Oda, Ango, and Yosano travelled, so it wasn’t like they were always there anyways. Dazai travelled too- maybe not from country to country, but from city to city, never having a true home to return to. But somehow, he’d found one.

France was unfamiliar, to say the least. He didn’t have all of the roads memorized, nor did he know the people. All he knew were his memories of Christmas, though those were mainly spent with Chuuya; he rarely left that house. But there was a feeling in his chest as the uber drove him to Chuuya’s dads’ house- like he knew that one day, he’d know every one of these streets by heart. One of these people would be his neighbor, who he’d wave hi to and bug for food.

And as he approached the old, creaky house, he knew that he would love it far more than the luxurious hotel rooms he’d always known.

“Dazai!” Chuuya breathed out, sounding like he’d seen the most beautiful sight ever. He opened the door before Dazai even had the chance to knock on it- Chuuya had been waiting for him like a dog waiting for his owner. How fitting.

“What’s a little Chibi like you doing up so late? You’ll never grow if you don’t get enough sleep,” Dazai teased as if he wasn’t just as giddy looking at Chuuya once again. These few weeks without him had been torture- trying to text when they could, yet still having to deal with the immediate loss of warmth. Seeing Chuuya, feeling his warmth radiating off of his body, he knew that he’d made the right decision.

Yes, it was impulsive. Agreeing to Chuuya wasn’t something that he was planning on doing, but Chuuya’s eyes were pleading. The blue had such a bright sparkle in them and Dazai would rather die than see that sparkle fade away.

“Shut the fuck up,” he whispered, words having absolutely no venom in them. He was smiling wider than Dazai had ever seen him smile, but that sight lasted for barely a second before Dazai found himself being dragged down by his collar. Lips crashed against lips for the first time in weeks.

Dazai let himself drag a hand into Chuuya’s hair, the older’s back arching as Dazai kissed back. Despite losing sight of the smile, he still felt Chuuya’s grin in the kiss- as if he could never be happier. They could’ve been there, kissing in the doorway, for years if no one stopped them. But someone did.

“Okay there, lovebirds,” Arthur called in French from somewhere behind Chuuya. “Let’s keep it PG13 while you’re in our house.”

“We weren’t gonna-!” Chuuya immediately pulled himself off of Dazai, blushing a furious red as he yelled at his parents. “Shut up!”

“Chibi seems embarrassed,” Dazai hummed, before whispering in the shorter’s ear. “Why? Were you thinking about it?”

“I hate you both!” the redhead turned impossibly more scarlet as he elbowed Dazai and made his way deeper into the house, allowing Dazai entry.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, love.”

“Y’know, I’m liking this Dazai kid more and more,” Paul yawned as he followed Arthur downstairs. Both of them were heading down to greet the newest member of their household- at least for the time being. This was going to be Dazai’s house for at least a few months. That itself, he was reeling from. Not to mention the fact that Paul had complimented him- be it jokingly or not.

“I’m hating him more and more,” Chuuya grumbled back, huffing with a pout on his face.

“You love me,” Dazai hugged Chuuya from behind, nuzzling into him. This was the warmth. This was everything that Dazai had wanted and more.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Of course.”

Chuuya turned his face to look at his lover’s. They just stayed like that for a while. Brown eyes meeting blue. All Dazai could think about in that one, brillant moment was about how beautiful life seemed when he was holding Chuuya.

People date. People kiss. People fall in love.

The unlucky ones fall out of love. They would part after they revealed their true selves to each other. Decide that things would be too difficult to manage for one reason or another. Moving on would be something that seemed unnatural. They would wonder for the rest of their lives what could have been. But the lucky ones stayed in love.

And for once in his life, Dazai knew that they would be the lucky ones.

Chapter Text

(first draft of chapter one - before i realized how different movie acting is from theatre)

“Um, excuse me.”

Nakahara Chuuya tapped someone’s shoulder, speaking in a voice that didn’t even sound like his own due to how nervous he was. The woman turned around, looking at Chuuya with a confused expression as if waiting for him to continue speaking. “This is the right spot for the filming of Stray Dogs, right?”

The woman smiled at him, nodding her head, “Correct. Just head in through those double doors and the director and a few other actors should already be in there.”

Chuuya nodded as he walked in the direction she was pointing.

Perhaps this entire thing was a total mistake on Chuuya’s part and he should just go ahead and quit before anything started. Even hiring him in the first place had to be a total mistake, he’s sure- who would put someone with no acting experience as the lead role in a movie? And the first thing on his agenda, when he gets home tonight, is getting drunk and absolutely yelling at Tachihara for convincing him to even try such a stupid thing.

The name of the movie was so misleading too- shouldn’t it have something to do with dogs if the movie is titled ‘Stray Dogs’? Apparently, it’s a fucking romance and Chuuya will not be spending time with a bunch of puppies on set. What a scam.

And when he walked into the room, his nerves did not calm down in the absolute slightest, seeing everyone’s heads turn immediately towards the door. There weren’t many people there yet- thank god he came early- but the people in the room were more than enough to make him feel awkward for existing.

No. He was Nakahara Chuuya. He was the epitome of confidence and attraction- he wasn’t going to let something as small as people’s heads turning make him feel small. Scanning the room, he took note of everyone there already. Sakaguchi Ango, the director, was with another red-haired man whom Chuuya didn’t know in the right corner of the room. Sakaguchi looked a lot younger than Chuuya had thought before speaking with him, but he ended up finding it comforting that his boss was only four years older than him. Looking left, he noticed Yosano Akiko, a famous actress that Chuuya himself had watched many works of. Seeing her in person seemed almost unreal to him, as her beauty was definitely incomparable to what was on screen. In the seat next to her sat Ozaki Kouyou, another well-known actress that Chuuya had looked up to ever since watching ‘Golden Demon’. It suddenly hit him just how terrifying this was. A few seats away from them was a white-haired boy with an awful haircut whom Chuuya had never seen before. He looked about as nervous as Chuuya felt, and part of him wanted to go to the boy and help him calm down. The last person in the room was standing near the door by Chuuya, crossing his arms in a way that made him feel at least a little intimidated. He didn’t seem to be one of the actors, as he didn’t hold a script in his hand, like everyone else. Rather, he had a notebook of sorts.

Instead of curling up into a ball (as much as he wanted to do that), he decided that the best course of action would be to politely introduce himself. Yeah, that’d be good, right?

With a bow, he started speaking, “Hello, everyone. My name is Nakah- Watch it, asshole!”

As soon as he’d started speaking, he felt something- someone- walk directly into him from behind, shoving him to the side and making him stumble out of the doorway. Turning around, he saw… oh, shit.

Nakahara Chuuya, at that moment, registered two things.

1). That was Dazai Osamu, perhaps the most famous actor in Japan. He’d been a prodigy as a child and dropped out of school to pursue it full-time when he was only ten. Since his acting was so popular and his face was objectively attractive, he’d also been a model for many different places. And Chuuya just called the Dazai Osamu an asshole. Shit.

2). He was hot.

Very hot.

Dazai, sparing Chuuya the slightest glance while he walked past, simply said, “Sorry, shortie.”

Nope, fuck it. It didn’t matter if it was the goddamn emperor of Japan; no one made fun of Chuuya’s height. With a light kick to Dazai’s leg (which might not have been as light as he thought, since Dazai flinched in pain), he shouted, “Don’t call me that!”

At least Chuuya’s yelling caused him to finally turn around and actually acknowledge his presence. Dazai looked him up and down as if checking him out, and then smirked at him in a way that made Chuuya really want to punch him. “It’s okay, kid. You’re still young. You’ll hit puberty soon.”

Pulling him down by his shirt and raising his fist with the other hand, Chuuya glared daggers at Dazai, “You wanna say that again?”

“I said that you-”

“Okay, okay, break it up,” Sakaguchi exclaimed, walking between the two and separating them. “It’s the first day- let’s not get into arguments already.”

“But, Ango,” Dazai whined in a voice that sounded nothing like the one that Chuuya just heard from him. And why was Dazai just calling him Ango? Didn’t he have any respect for his own boss? “He started it!”

“You’re not two, Dazai,” he raised an eyebrow at the actor. “Now take a seat. You two are blocking the entrance and we need to get started soon.”

“My apologies, Sakaguchi,” Chuuya bowed to him. He didn’t want to be on bad terms with him already. (But maybe things would be better if someone didn’t make fun of-)

“No worries, Nakahara,” Sakaguchi nodded at him, patting him on the back as he went to take a seat.

Dazai sat, unsurprisingly, next to Yosano while Chuuya took a seat at the furthest possible place from him. He ignored Dazai sticking his tongue out at him, instead focusing his attention on the people flooding the room.

Despite being a small cast, there were far more people than Chuuya had mentally prepared for, though he didn’t really recognize the others. At least they weren’t all insanely famous- that provided Chuuya a little comfort. By the time everyone had made it in and they were ready to begin the introductions and readthrough, all of the chairs in the room had filled up. Scary.

As far as introductions went, Chuuya tried his best to remember everyone’s names and roles, but he definitely wasn’t going to be able to. He also made it a point to note who all played characters important to him- such as his sister, who would be played by Ozaki, and his best friend, who would be played by Akutagawa Ryuunosuke. Or his love interest who would be played by-

“Fuck,” Chuuya muttered. And either Dazai Osamu had superhearing or just knew that Chuuya would be playing the main character, because after introducing himself, he blew the boy a kiss. He hoped that the disgusted face he made in response told Dazai enough.

–

(cut description of dazai)

Dazai looked nothing like Chuuya had ever imagined. Normally in interviews or in most pictures, he had a sort of angelic or elegant theme, but looking at him now, Chuuya questioned where that even came from. He was wearing a band t-shirt that had rips around the shoulders and back and bandages covered the rest of his arms and neck. Weird aesthetic, but Chuuya didn’t question it. His hair was a ruffly mess and

–

(cut scene from stray dogs - chemistry check)

“I can take care of myself.”

“Kashimura…” Dazai’s voice came out a little breathless and far too close to Chuuya’s ear.

“I mean it, Tsushima,” he scoffed. “We’re not friends, so don’t fucking treat me like we are.”

“Grow up,” his voice somehow managed to convey the perfect amount of spite and concern for the scene. Everyone who’d read it earlier just snapped as a response, rather than having that heavy worry that Chuuya had pictured. It felt natural. “I would’ve helped anyone. But I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Whatever. I don’t need your pity or help or anything,” Chuuya finally turned his head to lock eyes with Dazai. Did the room suddenly get hotter? Was Dazai’s face always that close? Chuuya shook it off, only focusing on the emotion in Dazai’s eyes. He was a damn good actor. “It’d be better for us both if you just left me alone.”

“Why?” he turned his head slightly. “Do you really want me to leave?”

The response is silence. Chuuya can feel Dazai’s breath on his mouth and it’s got him a little dizzy. The other actors weren’t nearly as close to him when they had performed.

“If you tell me to leave you alone, I will. But I don’t want to, Kashimura. I don’t want to leave you.”

“I-” Chuuya chokes purposefully. Before he regains his words, he breaks eye contact, but it seems to follow him like there’s a string holding him to Dazai. “I can’t.”

With that, he shakes his head and stands up, heading to ‘walk away’. Dazai stands up too, grabbing his wrist and pulling him to face the other. “You can’t?”

“Tsushima?”

–

(first draft of chapter 2)

“Oh my!”

A familiar voice called from behind Chuuya- one that he recognized a little too quickly considering his tipsy state. He immediately let out a groan at the voice, not wanting to deal with any of his bullshit right now. Gin looked over in confusion, and Chuuya followed suit, only his face expressed true annoyance.

“If it isn’t my favorite chibi!” Dazai clapped in fake happiness. He looked… not like himself in the slightest. Instead of the elegant, angelic aesthetic that he’d shown not only in interviews but also a few days ago, he was decked in a more grunge style. His silky blouse was replaced with a band shirt that had rips throughout the shoulder and back, while his skinny jeans were just as tattered. A mask covered his lower face, but Chuuya assumed that was more for not wanting attention than anything. His bandages were still on his arms and neck, and his piercings were spiker and there was a metal chain dangling off one ear. Interesting.

“What do you want, asshole?”

“Just wanted to congratulate you on the role,” he responded innocently, going up to the bar and ordering a glass of whiskey, “On his tab, thank you!”

“I’m not paying for your shit.”

“Aw~ but I thought we were friends!”

“You’re not my friend, so scram before I make you,” Chuuya growled, but made no attempt to harm him. He only took another sip of his drink.

“Who’s this?” Gin tilted her head in curiosity.

“Dazai Osamu, pleasure to meet you! Are you this slug’s girlfriend?” Dazai reached out his hand across Chuuya to shake her hand, which she accepted despite Chuuya’s obvious annoyance.

“No, no. Not at all,” she shook her head. She turned to the drinks, “I’m actually just about to take one of these to my girlfriend, so he’s all yours.”

“Don’t leave me here with him!”

“Bye now!” Dazai called to her as she walked away. What happened to bros before hoes?

He knew that Gin was keeping the rest of the group close by, in case Dazai tried something with him that he was uncomfortable with. And while he could absolutely handle himself in that scenario, he appreciated that she was actually watching over him. He just wished that she wouldn’t have left him to deal with Dazai by himself.

“How’d you know I got the part?” Chuuya asked with another sip of whiskey. It was really starting to kick in by now- his vision was already blurring and everything seemed fuzzier. He had to focus.

“Who else would’ve?” Dazai responded, pulling his mask down and taking a sip of his own drink. “You were by far the best Kensuke at callbacks.”

“Flattery isn’t gonna work on me anymore, Mackerel,” Chuuya rolled his eyes.

“It’s the truth!” he shrugged happily. “Ango kept putting you with people because he knew that you were gonna be the lead.”

“You mean Sakaguchi?”

“Bleh- formalities are so annoying! Wouldn’t you agree, Chibi?”

“I might be drunk right now,” he pointed a finger at Dazai, “But I can beat your ass within seconds. Watch it.”

“Oooh, my chibi is so kinky! But I have no such interest in men,” Dazai took another sip. His smile remained throughout the entire interaction. “I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone despite all of your slugness!”

That comment deserved a kick to the shin, though Chuuya might’ve kicked a little harder than he’d intended. Oh well!

“Chibi isn’t yelling at me,” Dazai frowned, playing with the ice in his drink. “He’s no fun today.”

–

(first draft of the chapter after trailers come out)

He should’ve expected it.

The first thing Chuuya saw after the trailers came out should’ve been something about this new up-and-coming actor playing the lead role. Maybe a few comments about his looks, people excited for the movie to come out, and definitely people discussing the insanely good chemistry between Kensuke and Shuji. But of course, as he feared, the comments were one after another asking if this was the guy Dazai was seen with two months ago.

It’d been two months- people needed to get the fuck over it already.

And yeah, some of those comments were pretty okay, saying that he looked way prettier on a good camera and that him and Dazai were cute together, but why couldn’t people just focus on the trailer itself? Why did they have to bring up old fake news that had been used to harrass not only Chuuya, but also their beloved Dazai?

Of course, Tachihara paid no mind to the comment section on the trailer, simply barging into Chuuya’s room shouting, “My favorite roommate is a fucking legend now!”

“I’m your only roommate, dumbass,” Chuuya scoffed, but still was smiling. Even if there were people who went on about his not real relationship with Dazai, he still fucking did it. He was famous overnight. And that was still something.

Tachihara jumped to give Chuuya a tight hug, digging his head into Chuuya’s shoulder as if he were about to cry. He wasn’t. Probably, “I’m so proud of you, man! I can’t believe this is even real!”

“Well, believe it, because people are gonna ask you so much shit about me, you’ll never catch a break,” he teased. “You might finally get tired of your annoying voice!”

“Ay, I’m emotional right now and you’re being mean to me!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Chuuya smiled as Tachihara finally pulled away from him.

“Should we go out tonight? Celebrate?” he wiggled his eyebrows and nudged Chuuya.

“You just want another excuse to get drunk,” the older lightly shoved him away, laughing at his roommate’s ridiculousness.

“I’m a tired college student- of course I wanna fucking get drunk!” Tachihara fell back on the bed as he whined. “It’s been so long since we went to the club anyways, so why not?”

“Well, unfortunately, people can recognize me now and it’s not super safe to just go out drinking,” Chuuya hummed, but then glanced at Tachihara mischeivously, “But I’m sure a couple of drinks can’t hurt.”

What can Chuuya say? He was also looking for any excuse to go out and get drunk again. And maybe with his up-and-coming fame he could find some horny guy in the club and have a one-night-stand and forget entirely about his weird, stupid feelings for Dazai. So what if one person notices him? It wasn’t like he had a massive fanbase yet- nor did he have an agent to ruin his life if he didn’t follow said agent’s every order. (He still resented Mori. Chuuya knew that he barely knew half of what happened to Dazai or how Mori treated him, but if it matches any of the minor things he’d heard… He wanted to tear Mori down.)

In the meantime, before he went to get drunk and have the time of his damn life, he, of course, had to talk to Dazai. Since today was his day off from working the cafe, he’d planned to meet the brunette at the arcade. It wouldn’t be busy at noon on a Monday, so they weren’t too worried about being noticed, but they still wore masks to be safe.

“How is my precious Chibi enjoying his first day of fame?” Dazai ran up to the redhead, who had been waiting for

–

(first draft of epilogue)

“Holy shit.”

Nakahara Chuuya dropped his phone the second he heard the call end. And just like the last time he stood there, baffled by the news that he’d received through phone, he was stunned in place, unable to even pick up the device he’d left on the floor. He came to his senses quicker than ever, immediately screaming, “Osamu!”

He yelled as he ran out of their room, down the stairs of their shared apartment and headed straight for the arms of the man he loved.

“Woah there, doggy,” Dazai smiled as he was attacked with an aggressive hug, returning it as he teased. “What’s got your tail wagging today?”

“Paris Fashion Week,” Chuuya breathed out through his smile. “They- They-”

“Really?” the younger’s eyes widened as he suddenly hugged a lot tighter, then pulled him slightly away to spin him in the air. “I knew it. I always knew it.”

“Just because you were right once doesn’t make you a fortune teller, asshole,” he barked with no venom. He was still reeling from the call. He was going to have an offical show during Paris Fashion Week. Is that insane or is that insane?

“Well, what if my fortune says that we’re going out to eat tonight and it’s on me tonight.”

“... maybe your fortunes are right a little more than half of the time,” Chuuya shook his head in disbelief at the man in front of him. The man he’d fallen in love with four years ago and still managed to love more every day.

Not that Chuuya would ever admit it, but living with Dazai was the best decision of his entire life. There was something so comforting about waking up in the morning in his love’s arms, starting and ending the day with the one person who truly understood him. And things were hard. All the fucking time. But they were Dazai and Chuuya. They weren’t letting some dumbass argument get between them.

“Am I going to be modelling there?” Dazai asked with a smirk on his face, already knowing that he was Chuuya’s favorite model. That was the life that Dazai had chosen- actually chosen- for himself here. He swore for himself that he would do something, instead of just sitting around (though he would’ve never said it), and offered to model for Chuuya. It was almost perfect, working with his boyfriend every day and the addition already being well known wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. And Dazai was certainly the most handsome man on Earth.

Though perhaps that was a little biased.

“What do you think, dimwit?”

“That’s a new one! Chibi’s learning words!” he cheered happily, pulling Chuuya impossibly closer. Despite his teasing tone and his incapability of being nice, Dazai was beyond happy for his love. Their smiles could be felt in the hug somehow, though

Chapter Text

“God, you’re so beautiful,”

Chuuya breathed out onto Dazai’s lips while they kissed, Dazai’s back pressed up against the wall and Chuuya cupping his cheek. This was a scenario that occurred more often than Chuuya imagined: hot makeout sessions that ended with a boner in Chuuya’s pants. Dazai’d been living with him for over a month now and Chuuya wasn’t about to make Dazai uncomfortable by bringing up the possibility of sex. He was waiting until Dazai was ready and brought it up himself. But that also led to Chuuya in the bathroom, jerking himself off with the memory of Dazai’s lips.

With how tonight was going, he was sure that it would be another of those nights.

“I love you so much,” the redhead whispered before reattaching their lips harshly, keeping a rhythm as he forced himself not to grind into Dazai. Dazai was making it insanely hard though, since one of his hands was rubbing at his side under his shirt and the other was on his ass, holding him impossibly closer.

“Chuuya,” Dazai called with half-lidded eyes. Holy shit, Chuuya could’ve orgasmed then and there by nothing but the sultry look. It was criminal how beautiful Dazai was. Then Dazai blinked a few times and frowned just the slightest. That was a bad sign.

Did Chuuya take it too far? Did he accidentally start grinding against Dazai in his horny haze? Chuuya was ready to give immediate apologies and excuse himself for quick session in the bathroom, but then Dazai whispered softly, as if he was scared of the answer.

“Do you really not want sex?”

“Huh?”

The way Chuuya’s face immediately went from worry to confusion was almost funny. He raised an eyebrow and blinked a few times, trying to process the question fully.

“Not that you need to- obviously- but you have a boner and I just-”

“What are you on about? Of course, I want to have sex with you!”

Dazai’s frown also disappeared from his face, changing to also be confused, tilting his head as he tried to understand. “Then why do you stop every time things get heated?”

“Because I don’t want you to be uncomfortable?”

“I’m not a virgin or anything- why would I be uncomfortable?”

“Well…”

“Okay, I get it. But seriously, I’m totally fine- I’ve had plenty of sex since then,” Dazai waved off, a small laugh escaping his lips. “You’re telling me that I could’ve been fucking you this whole time?”

“You’re telling me you could’ve been fucking me this whole time,” Chuuya blinked with joking upsetness. “I can’t believe this.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that I’m good to do this?” As Dazai spoke, he trailed his hand on Chuuya’s ass towards the front, ghosting over his dick. Even the slight brush of his fingers made Chuuya shiver and struggle not to buck his hips up. God, it’d been too long since he got fucked. Almost a whole year. Shit.

“If you tease me, I swear to God, I’ll never forgive you,” he huffed as Dazai started to palm him slowly- teasingly. Chuuya would be too embarrassed to admit that his eyes were already closed and his eyebrows were furrowed in want. His hands were on Dazai’s shoulders, but he needed Dazai closer. Closer.

“Your wish is my command, love.”

Dazai’s hand reached to unzip Chuuya’s pants, then he grabbed at the cock and started pumping it. It was just a handjob- something that Dazai presumably never had done to another person- but the very feeling of someone other than himself touching his dick… Chuuya was getting ruined far quicker than he wanted. His nails started to dig into Dazai’s back and he shoved his face into Dazai’s chest, desperate to hide the way he bit his lip to hold back whimpers and moans. Somewhere in his mind, he remembered something, “Dazai, what’s our safeword?”

The hand didn’t still as Dazai responded, “What’s that?”

“Huh?” Chuuya breathed out, moving his head to look at Dazai, who was still giving him a damn good handjob. He tried to ignore the pleasure soaring through him as he furrowed his eyes at Dazai. “What do you mean ‘what’s that’? Have you never had a safeword before?”

“No?”

“Holy-” the pleasure was building up too much for him to think, “Stop for a second, hold on.”

He took several deep breaths, trying to take himself back down and ignore the intense need to cum. Dazai just looked at him with a tilted head. “A safeword- It’s what to say to get the other person to stop.”

“Don’t you just say stop?”

“I mean, sure, but when things get kinky, people say stop a lot when they don’t mean it,” Chuuya shrugged, taking his hand off Dazai for a second to push back his sweaty bangs. “Me included. So I don’t want you to stop most of the time I scream it.”

“Interesting. So did you want me to-”

“No!” he shook his head quickly before Dazai started up again. They needed a clear head for this discussion. “I need to think and didn’t know what else to say then.”

After a second, Chuuya spoke again.

“Have none of your partners ever given a safeword?”

“Well, quick, one-time fucks in a broom closet don’t normally get too kinky,” Dazai let out a small huff of laughter. “What’s ours gonna be?”

“We could just use the color system,” he shrugged. “Red for stop, yellow for slow down or just let me cum, and green for keep it up?”

“Anything you want,”

“Say that again and I’m gonna cum already, holy shit-” Chuuya took a deep breath, shoving his face back into Dazai’s chest. “Let’s take this to the bed.”

When Chuuya feels himself fall against the bed, he’s almost embarrassed by the way he moans as Dazai takes his jeans and boxers off. “You’re on top?”

“Of course- I’m here to pleasure you, darling,” Dazai planted a kiss to Chuuya’s lips before he started to undo his own belt.

“You can pleasure from the bottom too, y’know?” and the way Chuuya said it was meant to be defensive. He’s pleasured many people while on the bottom, though he definitely did prefer being on top. This was a sacrifice he was willing to make being with Dazai. He was a switch, so he could deal with bottoming for the rest of his life.

Dazai’s reaction wasn’t a chuckle nor was it a knowing sigh- instead his voice sounded genuinely confused, “You can?”

“Yeah?” Chuuya’s eyebrows furrowed. “Riding?”

“Oh- I guess you’re right. It doesn’t feel good for the receiver though?”

“It’s supposed to?” then Chuuya realized why Dazai didn’t think about it. Okay, that was fair. Of course, he didn’t think it would feel good. Chuuya made a mental note to ask Dazai about riding in the future.

“Oh- good to know, I guess.” and then a slight pause. “Where’s your lube and condoms?”

“Second drawer.”

Not long after, Chuuya felt the first finger enter him. God, it’d been way too long since he had sex with anyone and it was evident by how tight he was. Dazai’s first finger didn’t give too long to adjust before the second was added, which Chuuya didn’t really mind, but he could’ve gotten a little warning. The way they scissored and automatically went to find Chuuya’s prostate surprised him for a second.

Right when Dazai hit the bundle of nerves, Chuuya whined loudly and arched his back, seeking the pleasure more. Holy shit. That- that was good. He missed it more than he’d ever admit.

“That’s your prostate?”

“Mhm,” Chuuya tried to even out his breathing after the attack on his prostate, but then it got hit again and Chuuya swore that he saw literal stars. How was Dazai so skilled with his fingers, holy shit-

“Cute.”

“Shut up, asshole,” he whined, using an arm to cover his red face, suddenly very self conscious of it. “I’m sure you-”

The world may never know what Chuuya was about to say because his moan couldn’t be contained at that point. He was too fucked out to think after just a few minutes with Dazai. (He blamed it on his months of chastity… Definitely not the fact that Dazai Osamu knew exactly how to use his fingers nor the fact that it was just Dazai Osamu, the love of his life, finally about to stick his dick in Chuuya.)

When the third finger went in and kept abusing Chuuya’s prostate, he swore that his hearing was just gone. All he felt was the rhythm in him as he tried to meet Dazai in the middle. This was just prep, so why did it feel so damn good and why was Dazai dragging it out so long? Didn’t Dazai want to get to his own pleasure?

But Chuuya did understand how easy it was to just watch a person writhe under you, already lost in that euphoric feeling while you just control them with the touch of your fingers. So he couldn’t blame Dazai.

As soon as Chuuya felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, Dazai took his fingers out, which meant to Chuuya that he was going to replace them with something else. Something interesting was noted in the back of his mind- that Dazai was oddly silent during sex. He seemed like he’d be the type to make lots of noises and say lots of dirty talk. Chuuya wouldn’t have been shocked if Dazai called him a dog while they were fucking.

But there was no teasing, nor talking at all. Just Chuuya’s embarrassing noises slipping little by little as he tried to hold them back.

The other thing Chuuya noticed and noted was that Dazai gave no real foreplay- unless you were to count how he hit Chuuya’s prostate while stretching him, but that was little to nothing. Chuuya was the type of top to watch his bottom suffer and beg for more. But he was thankful that Dazai wasn’t like that because there was no way Chuuya could take that much from Dazai.

When Dazai first pushed into Chuuya, Chuuya gasped harshly. It’d been way too long. Way too long.

After less than a second, Dazai continued to push himself in. Okay, he really wasted no time. Chuuya had taken more and faster in the past, so it was really no problem, even if this sex wasn’t totally his cup of coffee. It wasn’t uncomfortable, so as long as Dazai was feeling good, nothing else mattered.

Once Dazai brushed against Chuuya’s prostate though… Chuuya let out a loud moan as he started thrusting his hips to get more friction against it. He needed it. And he needed to touch himself because his neglected dick was crying- begging- for attention. When he reached for it, Dazai said nothing.

Thrust after thrust, moan after moan, Chuuya eventually came, feeling the pleasure just build up inside of him and break him down as his mind blanked, getting the sticky liquid all over his and Dazai’s shirts. The full feeling in him left as soon as it came.

“Are you not gonna keep fucking?” Chuuya asked tiredly, blinking a few times to take himself out of his post-orgasm haze. Most of his partners kept going inside of him until they came, but he supposed that Dazai wasn’t-

With a confused face as he sat up, Chuuya spoke up.

“Why are you getting dressed?”

“Because we’re done?” Dazai raised an eyebrow as he looked back at Chuuya as if it were some obvious fact.

“But you didn’t cum?”

“I was on top, why would I?”

“What?” Chuuya didn’t know if Dazai had fucked him stupid or what because nothing Dazai was saying made sense. “You still deserve to cum if you’re on top.”

“No? Sex isn’t meant to feel good unless you’re on bottom,” he spoke as if it were just an unspoken rule. Who the hell taught him that?

“Sex is supposed to feel good for everyone- that’s why people do it?”

“Well, it feels good seeing you feel good. You already came, what more is there to this?”

“Dazai, let’s try this again,” Chuuya pleaded- he wanted to make Dazai feel indescribable pleasure. That was his only want in the moment. “Trust me.”

The brunette couldn’t say no to that.

He nodded as Chuuya stood up, dragging his hand along Dazai’s chest as he spoke, “Start from the beginning?”

“Anything you w-”

“No, Dazai. I’m focusing on you right now,” he shook his head and planted a chaste kiss on the younger’s lips. “Anything you want, darling. Anything for you. Understood?”

Dazai nodded again, more eager this time as Chuuya turned them around and whispered.

“Can I lay you against the bed? Do you mind being on bottom?”

“I trust you.”

And that meant more than anything to Chuuya. Dazai trusted him and Chuuya was sure as hell gonna make sure Dazai didn’t regret it. Chuuya felt the hesitation as Chuuya lightly pushed him against the bed. He kissed Dazai as he got on top of him, hands feeling the body he’d memorized for almost a year. When they separated, Dazai felt less stiff- more okay. Chuuya whispered in his ear, which made Dazai shiver, “Don’t worry about anything- don’t think about anything. Just let me know what feels good and what doesn’t. Can you do that for me, love?”

When Dazai just nodded again, Chuuya shook his head.

“Use your words.”

As Chuuya spoke, he lowered himself to Dazai’s neck, kissing and sucking on it lightly. The whine that Dazai let out was heaven to Chuuya’s ears, immediately making his dick twitch against Dazai’s hips. Shit. That was new.

“Feels good,” Dazai muttered with closed eyes as Chuuya continued to search for the sweet spots on Dazai’s neck, leaving only the faintest of marks.

“Good boy,” he whispered. “Listening to me so well.”

Chuuya didn’t know if it was the praise or the specific spot on Dazai’s neck that made him buck his hips and let out a whimper, but Chuuya smiled at it all the same. He trailed his lips down, hands going to remove his shirt.

“Can I-”

“Yeah,” Dazai breathed out before Chuuya even had the chance to ask. That in itself also made Chuuya smile as he lifted Dazai up to take the shirt off.

“What about the bandages? Keep them on or…?”

Dazai looked down at his bandaged arms and chest, sighing softly, “I don’t think you want-”

“It’s not about what I want right now, love. And I don’t mind either way.”

“But they’re gross and disgusting to look at.”

Chuuya kissed Dazai softly, “Nothing about you is gross. You can keep it on if you’d like, but just know that I love every part of you.” He lifted Dazai’s arm to his lips, pressing kisses on the bandages, “That includes your scars.”

“Chuuya…” he lightly tugged the arm back, putting it over his face to cover his blush.

“Relax,” the redhead chuckled, moving to kiss down Dazai’s chest. “You’re so beautiful.”

Another whine. So praise was good. Got it.

Chuuya lowered his face to finally be between Dazai’s legs, hands lifting his hips to take off his jeans and boxers, then resting his legs on Chuuya’s shoulders. “Ever gotten blown before?”

“Hm?” Dazai whined for a second at the feeling of Chuuya’s hot breath against his half-hard dick. “No…”

“Don’t hold back,” Chuuya spoke before starting to palm at Dazai, about to take the tip into his mouth. It’d been a while since he’d given a blow job, so he just prayed that he hadn’t lost his touch or anything. He bobbed his head, getting more in as he licked it, trying to find the most sensitive spots.

“Shit,” he muttered, a hand going down to Chuuya’s head and digging into his hair. “Am I allowed to… Can I-”

He cut himself off with a moan as Chuuya enthusiastically sucked and licked all around Dazai, feeling him get harder in his mouth. One of his hands went to Dazai’s, making it tug at his hair harshly- almost like his way of telling Dazai that it was okay to do whatever he wanted with Chuuya. And after the next harsh suck, Dazai tugged on Chuuya’s hair, making him let out an aroused moan around Dazai’s cock.

“Oh my- Feels- feels good,” he tried to breathe as Chuuya kept going. Beads of precum were making their way in Chuuya’s mouth, encouraging him further.

But that also meant that he should stop before he already overwhelmed Dazai too much. Dazai let out a whine as Chuuya pulled off, patting Dazai’s thigh as an apology, “I’ll suck you dry another day, but for now, I need to actually prep you, okay?”

“Mhm,” Dazai nodded, taking deep breaths as he loosened his grip on Chuuya’s hair.

Chuuya found the lube that Dazai’d set on the bedside table and lathered it on his fingers, talking to Dazai as he did so. Even if he knew that Dazai’s brain was a little too mushed to understand most of it, “This is gonna be uncomfortable at first, but it shouldn’t hurt. If it hurts, you’ll tell me immediately, right?”

A nod.

“I need words, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you.”

“Good boy,” he ran his dry hand along Dazai’s leg, some mix of teasing and comforting. “Always so good for me.”

After a second, he ran his lubed up finger along Dazai’s rim, rubbing around it, but barely sticking it in. Dazai shivered under him at the sensation.

“I’m gonna start now, okay?”

“Okay,” he breathed out.

Chuuya could hardly remember the first time he had a finger up his ass- it’d been plenty of years since he lost his virginity. But he did know that all he could’ve described it as was weird, and he was sure Dazai was feeling weird too, by the way his nose wrinkled and he squirmed. Chuuya rubbed a comforting hand along Dazai’s side.

“How are we doing, love? What’s your color?”

“Green,” Dazai frowned. “Feels odd though.”

“It’ll feel good soon, I promise you. This is just the stretch, so that it doesn’t hurt later,” after a second, he spoke again. “Let me know if I’m good to move.”

“Go for it.”

From the way he continued to squirm around, Chuuya could tell that it wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever, but Dazai was still green, so he took that as a sign to stick the next finger in.

“Shit, you’re tight.”

“Obviously, idiot,” Dazai scoffed, sounding like his normal self for the first time since they started making out. “I’ve never had a finger up my ass, so what’d you even expect?”

“Oh, shut up before I make you,” Chuuya huffed back, scissoring his two fingers to stretch him further.

“Do it then,” Dazai challenged with a smirk as Chuuya continued thrusting his fingers in Dazai. “Shut me u-oh!”

Chuuya chuckled as he pressed up against the bundle of nerves, “Yeah? What were you saying?”

“Do it again,” he breathed out.

“As you wish.”

He kept massaging around Dazai’s prostate, hitting it as he continued to pump his fingers inside the younger. Dazai had thrown his head back in pleasure and his arm went back over his face to shield the blush once again.

“Let me see your pretty expressions,” Chuuya used his other hand to tap Dazai’s arm, moving it off. “Don’t hide yourself.”

And seeing Dazai’s fucked out face was worth more than anything else in the entire universe. The way his eyes closed with pleasure, the way pink was rushing to his cheeks and ears, the way he bit his lip to contain his noises… He was the most beautiful person in the entire world, Chuuya swore. Chuuya couldn’t help but place a deep kiss on Dazai’s lips, who then moaned into it. That was hot, holy shit.

Chuuya’s head was reeling just as much as Dazai’s was just from watching him writhe under Chuuya. Dazai’s noises were intoxicating- filling Chuuya’s head with the sweet sound repeating and repeating.

“I’m gonna put the third finger in, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded frantically. Part of Chuuya thought that he could’ve said anything to Dazai and he would’ve said yes. The way he grinded his own hips against Chuuya’s fingers as he searched for his own pleasure just made Chuuya all that much hornier.

The third finger went in without too much trouble, and he got to stretching more, which Dazai wasn’t too thrilled by. He would’ve preferred that Chuuya just milk his prostate over and over, but that wasn’t going to work for today. Dazai would feel better once the fingers were replaced by Chuuya’s dick and get far more pleasure from that.

Even though he wasn’t necessarily pleasuring Dazai, the brunette still let out a whine when Chuuya removed his fingers.

“Chuuya…” he called as Chuuya went to grab a condom and put it on himself. “Where are you going?”

It would’ve been adorable if Chuuya wasn’t already thinking about how sexy Dazai was. The whine was so fucked out and he grinded against nothing on the bed, trying to get the feeling of Chuuya inside him again. Before lining himself up with Dazai, he gave Dazai another deep kiss.

“I’m right here, love,” Chuuya whispered into the kiss, which made Dazai wrap his arms around Chuuya’s shoulders and pulled him closer. Their erections grinded against each other, making both of them throw their heads back at the feeling. “Color?”

“Green,” Dazai whined. “So green. Please, Chuuya- I need- I need you.”

And God, how could Chuuya deny him?

“I’m gonna line myself up now,” he narrated. “This is gonna be really tight, so I’ll give you a while to adjust before I move. Take it slowly. Don’t rush, don’t hurt yourself, and let me know if I’m going too fast or slow. Good?”

“Yeah- yeah, good,” Dazai nodded with closed eyes.

“Take a deep breath for me.”

Dazai obeyed without another question as Chuuya started to push himself inside the rim. The brunette arched his back when just a bit went in, already feeling full. He was biting his lip to hold back his noises as he squirmed. Chuuya’s hands on his waist held him still as he tried to whisper and calm his boyfriend down.

The pleasure was already feeling insane for Chuuya too- Dazai was so tight that Chuuya needed a second before he could move himself. Once he was ready, he looked at Dazai, “Are you good for me to push in more?”

“Mhm,” he tried to verbalize, knowing that Chuuya needed him to speak now, but he was too fucked out to let out a coherent yes.

When Chuuya bottomed out, Dazai let out a harsh gasp as he struggled to breathe, fingernails scratching into Chuuya’s back.

“Are you alright?” Chuuya asked, concerned that he hurt Dazai on accident. Fuck- he wanted Dazai to have a good first time with him, but maybe he’d fucked it up already. Did he get too caught up in his own-

“Move, please,” Dazai whined out. “Want more.”

And for the millionth time that night, simply looking at Dazai, hearing him say that, Chuuya felt like he could orgasm. Dazai was the love of his life. It felt so unreasonable to claim that after knowing him less than a year, but it was the most genuine thing Chuuya had ever felt. He was going to marry this man. He was going to love this man for the rest of his life. Dazai Osamu was the most beautiful, perfect man that Chuuya ever met.

He pressed a chaste kiss to Dazai’s lips. “Of course, darling.”

It didn’t take long for Chuuya to find Dazai’s prostate because within the first few thrusts, Dazai let out his loudest moan of the night. Sounding more like a scream, perhaps, Dazai was muttering Chuuya’s name over and over as his back arched as his dick rubbed against Chuuya’s chest.

“I’ve got you,” Chuuya muttered in Dazai’s ear, which made him whine again. “You’re so beautiful… so good for me.”

“Chuu-” he cut himself off with deep breaths as Chuuya continued to thrust into him over and over again. Over and over.

“My perfect boy,” the redhead kissed Dazai’s cheek, feeling a tear against his lips. Was Dazai crying?

When Chuuya looked at Dazai’s face, he saw tears build up in the brunette’s eyes and fall one by one. He was gone with pleasure, sniffling as he whined and moaned. Dazai trusted Chuuya so much… Chuuya didn’t know how he could begin to thank Dazai for granting him that- for giving Chuuya the opportunity to please him. He started by saying it out loud.

“Thank you so much, Osamu.”

“Chuuya!” Dazai called louder, likely nearing his orgasm as tears fell harder. “Please, please, please, Chuuya, please!”

“Anything for you, my love.”

Chuuya himself was already at the point of seeing stars in his vision, everything else fading away around him. Pleasure was burning in his body and he felt pure ecstasy overwhelm him. He kept going, pushing against that sweet spot until he felt cum squirting against his and Dazai’s chests. Chuuya let himself release too, the liquid going into the condom as they both rode out their orgasms.

Almost immediately, Chuuya let himself drop onto Dazai’s chest and he felt an arm wrap around him.

“I gotta clean you up, darling,” Chuuya whispered, feeling too tired, but knowing that he had to. Dazai was probably feeling way more exhausted and gone than he was and it was Chuuya’s job to clean up anyway.

“Stay with me,” Dazai whispered back, still crying as he held Chuuya tightly. “Please stay.”

“Are you alright?” the redhead asked again. Why were tears still falling from Dazai’s eyes? “Did I hurt you?”

Dazai shook his head frantically. “You were perfect- fuck, you were so perfect. I love you so fucking much.”

“You were perfect too,” Chuuya nuzzled his head into Dazai’s chest. “You deserve the world, you know?”

Those words triggered harsher sobs to fall from Dazai’s eyes, “You’re too good to me.”

“I don’t say anything that isn’t true,” he hummed, then whispered softly, “Thank you again… for trusting me.”

“I trust you more than anything.”

Maybe they could clean up later, when they weren’t actively falling asleep. When Dazai stopped crying and being so sweet to Chuuya. For now, they’d just stay in each other's arms, holding each other like the world around them didn’t exist.

“I love you, Osamu.”

Chapter Text

“Get the fuck out of here!”

Chuuya immediately turned around after seeing Dazai’s head peeking out from the door in the reflection of his mirror. “We aren’t supposed to see each other yet! It’s like- bad luck or something!”

“Aw, does my doggy believe in that superstition?” Dazai hummed happily, trying to keep the door open enough to not get his head chopped off. It was proving rather difficult, seeing as Dazai had essentially no strength compared to Chuuya. “Relax. I just wanted to give you something.”

“The fuck do you want?” he released the door, allowing Dazai to walk in. And fuck, Dazai was beautiful as ever. His suit was the perfect tan shade of tan to fit him and the blue tie complimented it so prettily. Dazai said that he chose the tie based on Chuuya’s eyes, but Chuuya didn’t believe that his eyes were nearly as beautiful a color as the one that Dazai had chosen. He was so beautiful, Chuuya couldn’t even be upset.

“Just needed you to have this,” the younger smiled the most lovestruck, genuine smile Chuuya had ever seen, and then suddenly lips were meeting lips.

It’d been a while since they had a gentle kiss like the one Dazai was giving him- normally they either gave quick pecks or rough makeouts. Chuuya had almost forgotten how chaste they’d kissed in the past. How heartfelt it could be, the way their lips met and moved together. Chuuya instinctively pulled him closer, needing more of him- breathing him in. He always needed more of Dazai. Always.

“I love you,” Dazai whispered as he pulled away. “I’ll let you finish getting ready now.”

“You’re an asshole,” Chuuya huffed, hating the way that warmth was just taken from him in an instant. But the smile on his face let Dazai know that it was purely out of love.

“I had a feeling if I continued, these clothes might not stay intact,” he shrugged with a laugh. “Not that I would’ve minded, but I’m not sure you want to get married in a ripped jacket.”

Chuuya pretended that he wasn’t blushing at the thought, “Shut the hell up, Osamu. I’m trying to do my damn makeup.”

“Shut me up all you want tonight, love,” Dazai cheesily smirked as he started to walk out of the room.

“Osamu,” the redhead called right before he could leave. Dazai stopped immediately and turned back to look at his fiance. Chuuya stared at him from the mirror and they made eye contact for a brief moment. He let out a smile, “I love you too.”

Dazai smiled back.

The day was April 4. It was a sunny day. Chuuya and Dazai woke up in their bed at five in the morning. Chuuya had actually slept that night. He had been waiting for this day as far as his memory went. Nakahara Chuuya was marrying Dazai Osamu.

Tachihara was the first person that Chuuya asked to be on his side of the bachelor party, though that was to no one’s surprise. In his heart, despite his adoration of Tachihara, he still imagined the Flags were the ones accompanying him. Dazai noticed the increasingly frequent visits to their graves and knew that something was up because he quickly asked Chuuya if he wanted to have their wedding near the graveyard. Even if they couldn’t be there as his groomsmen, they would at least see him get married. (Chuuya may have cried after that conversation.)

As Chuuya finished his makeup, he looked out the window, seeing the gravestones from the room. He whispered under his breath to his friends, “Thank you.”

He stared at himself one last time before leaving. His hair was properly brushed and braided (courtesy of Kouyou), but the lack of a hat on him was odd. A red tie fell from his collar, matching the color of his hair and contrasting Dazai’s blue. His black suit was fitted to him perfectly (he should hope so, he made it), and when he looked in the mirror, he wasn’t embarrassed by the way it wrapped around his stomach. He didn’t feel the need to cover it with his hands or change the jacket- he was able to look at himself and feel handsome.

Chuuya smiled at the mirror, heart swelling with the thought of Dazai. In mere hours, he would be able to call Dazai Osamu his husband. The man who grew with him year after year. The man who managed to surprise him in a new way every day. The man who taught him how to love.

“You got this,” he whispered to himself.

The second that he stepped out of his room, he should’ve expected that Kouyou and his dads were waiting for him. They, as well as Tachihara, had been in his room helping him get ready just about all day, but they left to mingle with guests for a while. His dads were there to walk with him, he supposed, but that didn’t answer why Kouyou had shown up again.

“Nakahara,” Kouyou called, lips tilted upwards as if she were trying to hide just how big her smile was. “How are you feeling?”

“Ready.”

“Good. Turn around for me?” she instructed, making sure that Chuuya looked as best as humanly possible for his big day. He did as she ordered, and she seemed to find no issues. “Okay, back around.”

“Am I good?”

“You’re always perfect,” the woman looked at him lovingly, like the older sister he never had. Her hands were on his shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly. “But also, chapstick?”

She handed him a tube, which he took and applied quickly.

“Tuck this strand of hair back,” she did it for him, despite her instruction. “Beautiful. That boy is going to faint when he sees you.”

“I’d prefer if that didn’t happen,” Chuuya gave a small laugh.

“That’s rather unfortunate for you,” Kouyou chuckled back, admiring him for another second.

“I’ll see you out there,” he left her with a nod as he turned away.

“Hold on.”

“Hm? Do I have something else to fix? Is there a loose string- I fucking hate those-”

“Nakahara,” she interrupted his rambling with a firm, yet so soft voice. “I’m so proud of you. Never forget that.”

The shock on Chuuya’s face was apparent, but it quickly changed into a pure smile, “Thank you.”

“Now, go get married. We can’t wait all day.”

Chuuya nodded without hesitation, heading over to his dads, ready to escort him to the altar.

When Chuuya stopped in front of them, they both had tears in their eyes and Arthur was pulling him in without a second thought, “My beautiful baby.”

“Dad,” Chuuya flushed in embarrassment at the praise but hugged back just as fondly.

“Nakahara Chuuya,” Paul spoke, making Chuuya turn to him. He was avoiding eye contact with his son, and Chuuya could tell that it was for fear that he would see the drops falling from his eyes. “You… grew up so much.”

The smile that made its way to Chuuya’s face was far too fond for the words said to him, but he knew exactly what Paul was trying to say in those words. There were so many meanings underlying that one phrase, and all he could do was bring his other father into the hug. He loved them so much- so, so much.

“Let’s get you married now,” Arthur eventually pulled away, holding Chuuya’s hand like it was a lifeline. They walked to the door together, dads on either side of Chuuya as he was about to make his way to the alter. Dazai would be following after soon, he knew. And then they would get married. They would declare their love for each other and kiss and officially be each other’s. That thought made Chuuya feel dizzy.

From the altar, he could see all of the friends that they’d invited to Paris for the special day. It wasn’t a super big event, but it wasn’t small by any means. Tachihara was right there next to him, patting him on the shoulder as inconspicuously as possible. “You got this,” his motion said. Chuuya held back a smile.

The entire time the marriage officiant spoke, Chuuya couldn’t focus- it was something that Chuuya could hardly care less about when he was standing in front of the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, the man he was about to marry. It wasn’t until his name was spoken that he flinched into the reality of this situation.

“Do you, Nakahara Chuuya, take Dazai Osamu to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, to cherish, to continually bestow upon her your heart’s deepest devotion? If so, say, ‘I do.’”

“I do.”

He looked straight into Dazai’s sparkling brown eyes, never more sure of anything in his entire life.

“And do you, Dazai Osamu, take Nakahara Chuuya to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, to cherish, to continually bestow upon her your heart’s deepest devotion? If so, say, ‘I do.’”

“I do.”

And then came more reading- more words that Chuuya didn’t bother listening to because he knew that Dazai Osamu was, in a matter of minutes, going to be declared his in front of all the people in his life who matter. And Dazai was so sure- so firm in his words, not wavering for a second. Chuuya restrained himself from launching straight at Dazai, kissing him, and making it all official already. When the vows came, Chuuya couldn’t stop tears from welling up in his eyes- he’d never cried from happiness before. It was a weird feeling, but so, so good.

“Nakahara Chuuya,” Dazai swallowed before continuing, and Chuuya knew that it was because he was getting choked up and just didn’t want it to show. Years together had taught him at least that much. “I wish that there was something I could say that you didn’t already know. Other than random facts about animals that I accidentally learned a long time ago. For example: did you know owls only ever fall in love once?”

Chuuya shook his head, fearing that his tears would fall at any second.

“Well, they do. I like to think that I’m an owl and you’re my tiny owl partner who I can peck at and fly into the night sky with,” both of them smiled dumbly. If they weren’t being so damn emotional, they would’ve laughed. Or Chuuya would’ve kicked him for calling him tiny. “But I’m not an owl, I’m actually just a human. Which is something that you taught me. I’m a human who can make mistakes, and feel emotions, and actually fall in love for the first time ever. I gave up so long ago, Chuuya. And you’re the reason I’m still standing today; you and your stubbornness, and your passion, and your sexy fucking body. And every single moment I spend with you just reminds me more and more how lucky I am to not only have met you, but to have loved you, and to continue loving you day after day. Thank you, my love.”

“You absolute idiot,” Chuuya looked down to try and hide his tears, but he knew everyone could tell anyway. “Way to make a man cry on his wedding day. Kinda rude, don’t you think?”

“I try,” he smiled.

“Well, it’s my turn, asshole,” he lightly kicked at Dazai’s shin. “You know how much I love you and how long I’ve loved you, but sometimes it still shocks me that I can feel so much for one person. It’s hard to believe that anyone could ever feel this way. It’s in the moments where you wake up early and try cooking, knowing damn well that you’re gonna burn the food. Where you never fail to give me a kiss before leaving the house. Where you say ‘I love you’ the way you always do- breathless as if you’ve never seen a sight as beautiful as me. My heart swells so much, knowing that you love me too. And I want to make you feel as loved as you make me feel. I want to spend my life awkwardly dancing in the kitchen to stupid love songs and acting out those stupid romance novels you read. I want to do anything, as long as it’s with you.”

Chuuya finally found the strength to look into Dazai’s eyes. Blue meeting brown, just like always.

“You’ve seen me at my worst, yet you’re still here,” Chuuya’s tears became sobs, unable to keep himself from choking up anymore. “And I will stay by you until the sky comes crashing down and dogs suddenly become ugly.”

“Isn’t that already true?” Dazai joked.

“It’s not my fault you don’t have functional eyes, asshole.”

“You’d be a lot more intimidating if you weren’t balling so hard, you know?”

“Shut up! Just because I’m crying doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass and-”

“Continuing on,” the officiant cleared her throat. Which was for the best- they could’ve gone on forever had they not been stopped. It wasn’t long before they were putting the rings on each other; silver bands, because neither of them wore gold, matching each other.

“You may now kiss the groom.”

Despite being somewhat famous, Chuuya never heard cheers erupt through a crowd the way they did now. But in a moment’s notice, all of it had faded out, only hearing Dazai’s heartbeat against his chest going insanely fast, but Chuuya knew that his must be going just the same speed. They always were so connected, it wouldn’t shock Chuuya if their heartbeats decided to sync.

And kissing Dazai was far from new. In the years that they’d been dating, kissing was hardly a rare thing, especially when you’re with someone as gorgeous as Dazai. But this was Chuuya’s first time kissing his husband. His legally recognized husband. And his husband was kissing him like he was the last man on Earth, like he could never get enough. Chuuya couldn’t blame him, because he was just as painfully starved.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dazai whispered between soft kisses. “I trust you more than anything.”

Chuuya felt that familiar swell of his heart, unable to stop himself from kissing his lover once more.