Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chuuya has never actually been a fan of libraries. At least, he isn't a fan of studying in them. They're too big, too quiet, the air too thick with anxious pheromones. Unfortunately for Chuuya, the internet in his apartment is out again, and he really has no other choice. 

Maybe he could have waited for it to come back on, but he's expecting a very important email and doesn't want to miss it. This very email could very well make or break his experience as a Ph.D. candidate at Yokohama University. 

“Nakahara Chuuya, what a surprise,” a mildly familiar voice says, in a tone far too whimsical for Chuuya's current mood. 

“I'm busy,” he says, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the voice. The voice which happens to belong to a former…colleague? Classmate? He's not really sure, but he definitely wouldn't call Kouyou a friend. Not that there are many people he would refer to as his friends. 

“Too busy to say hello? Jeez, some people never change,” she chuckles. “Or maybe they do, because I distinctly remember you saying that you'd never set foot on campus again after graduation.” 

Chuuya rolls his eyes and lets out an annoyed huff. The reminder that he was once an overzealous and optimistic undergraduate is like a punch to the gut.  

“Guess I changed my mind,” he admits, shortly. 

“Turns out that philosophy degree didn't work out the way you thought it would,” she teases. 

“Shut up, you got the same damn degree, didn't you?” He scowls, heat rising in his cheeks because it’s fucking embarrassing. So maybe he runs his mouth a little too much, and maybe now he's backtracking after insulting the entire philosophy department at graduation. Because yeah, he once believed that he was done with college and that graduating with honors with a philosophy degree would unlock a multitude of job opportunities that didn't involve going back to school. 

And now he's eating his words, isn't he? Academics have always been something he's good at, but not always his favorite thing in the world. In fact, he got more of a kick out of purposely doing the bare minimum needed to graduate with honors and it was easy. How hard can an advanced degree be? (But he doesn't want to end up eating those words, too, so he bites his tongue.)

“Yes, but I've always planned on pursuing academia. Which, I believe you said, was a colossal waste of time, right?” 

“Whatever, I changed my mind, alright? Now leave me alone, I'm waiting on an email,” he grumbles, turning his gaze back to his laptop screen so that he can refresh his inbox. 

Still nothing. 

“Right, they're assigning supervisors to the new candidates today,” she says, with a wistful sigh that Chuuya interprets as condescending. “You really will be fine with anyone, most of the supervising professors are great.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Well…” 

Oh, Chuuya doesn’t like that sudden shift in tone. 

“Unless you're worried about getting an alpha,” she shrugs. “I think you can make that a request if you're uncomfortable.” 

“I don't care about damn alphas,” he grumbles, wrinkling his nose at the subject. As an omega, people tiptoe around him more often than he'd like to admit. If he had it his way, not a single person would ever dare to doubt his strength or mental fortitude on the sole basis of his secondary gender. 

“Hmm, well, suit yourself,” she hums. She doesn't get it; as a beta there's no way in hell anyone's asking her if she'd be uncomfortable with an alpha super. 

“I will, thanks.” 

“Speaking of alphas, there is a rumor going around that Dr. Dazai Osamu is taking on a candidate this semester. He never does that,” she muses. 

Hmm. Chuuya's pretty sure he's heard that name before, but he's never actually met the guy, and he's not sure what it was that people were saying about him. 

“Is that so?” 

“Just hope you don't get him—He's a little odd.” 

“Yeah, like the other professors are gonna be normal ,” Chuuya chuckles. Kouyou doesn't laugh, though. 

“His course is The Philosophy of Death and Dying, I've heard he's a nutcase. And you say you don't care, but he's also an alpha.” 

“You're right. I don't care.” He looks up at her again and smirks…

Just in time for his laptop to chime with an incoming email. Chuuya jolts and immediately turns his attention back to the screen, clicking on the email as fast as he possibly can. 

Nakahara Chuuya, 

Congratulations on passing your prerequisites and officially earning the designation of Candidate . As a requirement of the course, all candidates must pair with an approved supervising professor from the department. The supervising professor will oversee your thesis work. You will also be required to gain experience through working as a Teaching Assistant—

Chuuya groans and scrolls through all the jargon he already fucking knows—And then stops again when he's reached the part he actually cares about. 

Supervisor: Dr. Dazai Osamu

“Well, fuck, you jinxed it,” Chuuya mutters, knowing full well that Kouyou has been reading over his shoulder. So damn nosey. 

“Yikes,” She offers, apologetically. 

“Whatever, I can handle this guy, it doesn't matter what the rumors are.” He leans back in his chair and sighs. 

“Still be careful.” 

“Why? This makes me look good, doesn't it? If he never chooses a candidate and I just happen to be the only one he chooses. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous.” There he goes, already running his mouth. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to get through it. And it's not just rumors, they're true stories. It's been a while since you've actually been on campus, don't forget.” 

“Yeah? Like what?” 

“Last semester, a couple of freshman girls found him face-down in the courtyard fountain. And when they pulled him out, he tore them a new one, saying they interrupted his nap.” 

“He once wrote a fake suicide note to his entire class and then asked them to write an essay about how they felt—bonus points for brutal honesty.” 

“Now that's just ridiculous.” 

“It is, but it's true. He was written up for it, and apparently over half of the essays he got back were about how they were secretly glad because his midterms are insanely hard.” The more Kouyou talks, the more he realizes that maybe this Dazai has more than just a couple of screws loose. But he doesn't dare let her know he's fazed in any way. 

“Doesn't bother me,” Chuuya shrugs. “All I have to do is focus on my own work and only interact with him if I have to. It'll be fine.” 

“If you say so,” she sighs. “Good luck, you're gonna need it. 

He waits until she finally leaves to mimic her words to himself, rolling his eyes as he opens a new email message and pastes Dr. Dazai Osamu's email into it. 

Good Afternoon Dr. Dazai, 

Thank you for offering your time this semester as my supervisor. My name is Nakahara Chuuya, but please just call me Chuuya. 

Is there anything you would like me to do to prepare for this semester? I am available this Thursday morning to meet and go over program requirements. 

I look forward to working with you. 

Sincerely, 

Nakahara Chuuya

There. 

If Chuuya's good at anything, it's sending professional, well-worded emails. Despite any reservations he may have about the guy, he still fully believes in making a good first impression. 

Ding!

Chuuya nearly jumps out of his own skin as a reply comes through almost immediately. Good, so at least this guy is good at answering emails!

Chuuya— 

cool!

no mornings - yuck 

you have access to the course portal, just read the syllabus

see you next week! 

<Sent from my cellular device>

The tag at the end is really the icing on the cake for one of the most unprofessional emails he's ever received in his entire life. Or maybe not his entire life. He might have sent an email like that to a friend in middle school. 

Honestly, he isn't even sure what he expected from the man. Really, it would have made more sense to him if he didn't receive a response at all. And if he did, Dazai sounds like the kind of guy who'd be a stickler for formality. As a professional in the field he's in, one would think he would send emails so formal they'd be pretentious. 

But, no. 

His supervising professor types like a middle schooler. 

_

A week passes, and Chuuya has done everything he can think of to prepare for his new role as a teaching assistant. He's memorized the syllabus, sent a discussion board to all of his sections, caught up on his own studies so he can focus. The only thing he hasn't done is have a single interaction with the professor he's supposedly going to be assisting. 

That being said, as much as he hates the level of communication they’ve established, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find Dazai’s course interesting. 

The Philosophy of Death and Dying

In the past, he always found himself loathing courses like that one, with their sensational titles crafted for the sake of luring people in. Specifically, people who wouldn’t typically go for a course in philosophy as an elective. On the bright side, it is an upper level course, so the likelihood of having to explain basic principles to freshmen is fairly slim. 

The course outlines the different ways that people tend to think about death, and applies a variety of moral positions as new ways to consider death as a concept. It’s deep, and god, it’s so fucking dark, but it’s intriguing. Chuuya finds himself looking forward to the different debates that students might pose, and the ways he’ll turn their worldviews upside down with his knowledge. 

It’s so pathetic, but one of Chuuya’s favorite feelings in the world is being right, and this seems like the perfect opportunity to flex on some undergrads that don’t know as much as he does. Hell, he’s so damn excited about the possibility that he’s half an hour early to the lecture hall on the first morning of classes. 

The lecture hall in question is housed in the philosophy building—An older building on campus, one that hasn’t received many of the snazzy updates that many of the other departments have been able to enjoy. But Chuuya likes that. Old buildings have a certain air about them—character, history. He couldn’t imagine pondering the meaning of life in a grey shoebox of a building.

While he knows how many students have registered for the class (he did manage to access the portal), it doesn’t hit him until he’s actually there . 

A lot of fucking people are about to be here—filling up the rows, their eyes glued to him. Or Dazai, whatever. It’s a little daunting, but he refuses to let it shake him. Even as students start to slowly filter in, he refuses to succumb to anxiety.

He sits at one of the tables up front, using his own laptop to project the slides that were posted for the first day of classes. Dazai hasn’t arrived yet. But Chuuya is pretty sure he’ll be impressed with how prepared  Chuuya is. 

What he isn’t prepared for is the fact that the clock strikes noon, and the infamous Dr. Dazai Osamu is still nowhere to be seen. The lecture hall is loud and buzzing with excitement, clearly intrigued by the stories they’ve heard, or how they’ll get to brag to their friends that they’re taking a class about death. 

He tries his best not to make eye contact with anyone in the front row, because he’s not quite ready to have conversations with any of them. That’s not what he’s here for, anyway. He’s here to make a name for himself. 

And also to get his Ph.D. 

It’s exactly six minutes past the time the class was supposed to start when one of the ground-level doors swings open with a loud crash. Chuuya startles along with everyone else in the lecture hall, their gazes all suddenly glued to that corner of the room. 

Where a tall, lanky man wearing a tan coat makes his entrance. 

Chuuya wishes he could say that Dr. Osamu Dazai is a crazy old man whose looks are nothing that he’d even think twice about. But no, he can’t say that. 

Because Dr. Osamu Dazai is shockingly young—Can’t be that much older than Chuuya, actually. And he’s annoyingly handsome with fluffy, dark hair and eyes that are far too bright for someone ready to give a lecture about dying. Is this really the same man Kouyou told him about? There’s no way. 

“Sorry, I’m late!” he yells, in a tone that indicates he’s anything but sorry. Loud and boisterous, maybe, but not sorry. The lecture hall is eerily quiet, watching him carefully, just as Chuuya is. It’s like he’s a wild animal, and they’re all frozen in place, wondering what he’s gonna do next. 

With that, he waltzes over to the desk in the middle of the room and sets his bag down on the top of it before flashing Chuuya a friendly grin. Chuuya jolts at that, because it seems friendly enough, but there’s still something odd about the man. Something strange, even. 

“You must be Chuuya, huh?” he says, just to him. 

“Yes,” Chuuya nods. He watches as Dazai turns to the screen where Chuuya’s slides are projected. “Is something wrong?” 

“Where’s the remote for the projector?” he asks. 

“Oh, uh, here,” Chuuya says, fumbling to hand it to him. Maybe it’s too bright or too small, or there’s a better way to center the projection that Chuuya doesn’t know about.

“Thank you, Chuuya,” he says, and Chuuya finds himself grinning at the praise. Good first impressions are so important. 

But then Dazai promptly holds up the remote and turns the projector off completely, 

And Chuuya’s smile is gone.  

“I can’t stand that thing, the buzzing sound it makes is awful,” he sighs, shaking his head, before twisting his face in disgust. “You don’t need slides, anyway, it’s just a distraction.” 

Chuuya wholeheartedly disagrees, but still, he bites. his. tongue. 

“I just thought—”

“It’s fine! No worries, you’ve got this!” 

Now, Chuuya is just confused. What the hell is he talking about? He seems outwardly nice and easy-going, not at all like what Kouyou described, but he’s still… weird. That’s it. That’s the only word that Chuuya can think of!

Weird. 

So, so, weird.

And it only gets weirder as Dazai sits down at the desk… And promptly drops his head against his bag and closes his eyes to sleep.

“Wa-Wait, what are you doing?” Chuuya hisses, feeling the weight of 253 pairs of eyes on him. What does Dazai expect him to do? Teach the class while he takes a nap?! Absolutely not! He's a teaching assistant, not a professor! This was not in the handbook they gave him—

“I did not sleep a wink last night. But I saw your portfolio and you're good . You've got this!” He says, opening just one eye as he gives Chuuya a thumbs-up. 

And then promptly goes back to napping. 

Chuuya stares in disbelief at the man slumped over on his desk, and he can feel nothing but pure rage rising in his body. A younger version of Chuuya might have grabbed him by the collar and punched his lights out—

—That fucking mother fucker, who the hell does he think he is? If he thinks he can screw me over on day one like this, I'll show him my personal philosophy about death and dying—

“Uh, so, is class cancelled?” Some idiot with a too-smug tone calls out from somewhere in the lecture hall. And if Chuuya has to choose between being humiliated by an undergrad student or a prize-winning expert in the field, he'll definitely choose the latter. 

Even if the latter incites a violent, inexplicable rage in his heart. 

“Absolutely not!” Chuuya declares. “I'm just as qualified to teach this course, I assure you.” 

He swears he hears a faint chuckle coming from the corpse next to him, but chooses to ignore it for the sake of his own sanity. Either way, his declaration earns a chorus of groans from the class, as if they all really expected to skip out on the very first day of classes. 

“Open your books to chapter one,” Chuuya announces in an annoyed huff, flipping through his own copy of the text. This will be fine; it's not like he's a stranger to public speaking. And despite the condescending chuckle from Dr. Dazai, he actually does know what he's talking about.

 He furrows his brow, ready to finally take a breath and move forward, when a tiny whisper stops him in his tracks. 

“Chapter Seven.” 

“It's the first chapter—” he mutters, casting a sideways glare towards the professor who at least appears to still be sleeping. 

“Yeah but seven makes more sense—Start with seven,” he whispers again.

Chuuya's left eyelid twitches as he suppresses the overwhelming urge to lose his shit. Under most circumstances, Chuuya wouldn't have a problem telling it like it is. In fact, he's been known to climb on pub tables and yell expletives at knot-headed alphas who try to cross him. (It's only happened twice, but it's enough to earn him a reputation.) 

Unfortunately, he's smart enough to know that it wouldn't be in his best interest in this situation. As his supervising professor, Dr. Dazai has an infuriating amount of control over whether or not Chuuya earns his degree. 

Thank God for scent blockers, honestly, because without them, the entire hall would know exactly how Chuuya felt. 

“I'm sure the author wrote it this way for a reason,” Chuuya mutters under his breath. He doesn't fully intend for Dazai to hear him. “That's why you start with chapter one.” 

“Well maybe the author's a fucking idiot,” he hums, his tone far too playful for Chuuya's liking. And it's not like the rest of the room can hear Dazai's remarks, so he definitely can't start making a scene. He shouldn't. 

But, alas—

“Then why don't you teach the damn class like you're supposed to?!” Chuuya snaps, slamming the book shut. 

The silence that follows is truly deafening. 

He tried to hold it in, he really did! And now his days as a Ph.D. candidate are surely numbered already. All because he couldn't keep his own damn mouth shut long enough to humor an eccentric asshole. 

“Well, that's no fun, I really wanted to see what you could do,” he sighs, finally sitting up and having the gall to give Chuuya a wide-eyed, kicked-puppy sort of look. “Well, if you really don't think you're up for the task…” 

“Wait, no, that's not what I—” 

Before he can make a case for himself, or backtrack in any way, Dazai has already moved on. 

“Everyone, close your books,” He announces, immediately undermining Chuuya’s instructions. But all Chuuya can do about it is sulk in silence and try not to let it show on his face how utterly pissed he is. At himself, at stupid Dazai.

“Now,” Dazai continues, “Everyone is here because, on some level, you have a morbid curiosity about death, right?” 

He pauses for a moment as a wave of noncommittal murmurings rolls across the lecture hall.  

“You,” he says, pointing and singling out an unsuspecting student in the third row. The girl startles, like she's intimidated by him. “How do you feel about dying?” 

“You can't just ask her that,” Chuuya says through gritted teeth. As he should have expected, Dazai doesn't even humor him with a response. Being flat-out ignored is almost more antagonizing than starting an argument. 

No, wait, it's definitely more antagonizing.

Especially coming from this man. This stupidly handsome alpha with an apparent charisma that captures the attention of well over two hundred students with ease. God, he sucks.  

And Chuuya can't stop staring despite his distaste.

At the way he moves, the way his eyes shine. It's clear as day that this topic is his passion. Why do the most irritating people get to be attractive?

“W-well I don't want to die?” The girl squeaks out, like she's not sure what he wants her to say. To be fair, Chuuya doesn't know what Dazai wants either. 

“Why not? How can you be sure?” 

Chuuya groans. 

“B-because…I don't know? I like living?” 

“And how do you know that you objectively like being alive more than you like being, well, not alive?” Dazai's questions grow more invasive by the second and Chuuya finally can't take it anymore. He's all for pondering existentialism, hell he can be nihilistic at times himself, but he doesn't find it appropriate to force that sort of thinking on someone else.

“You don't have to answer that,” Chuuya interjects, loud enough to finally assert himself. Dazai turns to him, an annoyingly intrigued look on his face that Chuuya can't stand. So, he shoves his hands in his pockets and turns his back just enough so he doesn't have to look at the idiot. 

“Oh?” Dazai ponders. 

“Chapter one actually addresses that question, so if you open your books, you should be able to find it—To summarize, most people enjoy life and fear death because there is no way to know what the experience of death actually entails. It can't be studied, it can't be observed, and once you experience it for yourself, there's no going back.” 

He pauses, steeling his gaze as a hand shoots up from somewhere in the hall. Still refusing to look at Dazai, he points (albeit aggressively) towards the hand in question. “What?” 

“But scientists can study death, they can study brain activity and—” 

“Not the same thing,” Chuuya sighs. “Experiencing something is not the same as studying something—And even if it was, you can't  study an experience that hasn't been documented once. You can't hold focus groups with the dead, can you?” 

“Well, that would certainly be interesting if you could,” Dazai comments. Chuuya finally glances at him again, this time to see that Dazai is actually thumbing through the pages of the book, like it's his first time reading it. 

“Who's the idiot now?” Chuuya accidentally asks out loud. That earns him a smirk that sends a chill down his spine, and nearly slows time to a stop. 

“The author. Definitely still the author,” he chuckles, snapping the book shut again. 

The lecture wraps up surprisingly quick, and they didn't even cover half of chapter one, which already has Chuuya stressed. You know, on top of already making his supervisor hate him instead of making a good impression. 

“You're a feisty one,” Dazai says, once everyone else has cleared the room. Chuuya rolls his eyes. 

“Sorry, but I take this role very seriously. We don't need to be getting reports from the mental health clinic that this course is encouraging suicidal ideation.” 

“Hmm, I guess you're right. Though I wouldn't say it was encouraged. Vaguely implied, at the very least.” 

“Still…It's a sensitive subject. And we aren't covering suicide until chapter five, anyway.” See? Chuuya has the syllabus memorized!

“And yet, all seats for this course were filled within minutes when registration opened.” Dazai's expression is odd, like he isn't quite smiling, but he doesn't seem upset either. “It may be uncomfortable, but I'd say most people are more curious about death than you'd think. They wanted an excuse to talk about it at length. Chapters don't really matter as much.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Chuuya sighs. He's still packing his bag when Dazai strides past, already on his way out. And as he does, Chuuya freezes. 

Typically, Chuuya can block out other scents, ignoring them like they aren't even there, especially outside his heat cycles. It's been a long, long time, if ever, that he's been struck speechless by a scent. 

And yet here he is, wide-eyed and frozen in place as the alpha's scent swirls under his nose, making every hair on his body stand on end. Cinnamon, mahogany…somehow also like candlelight.

He shivers involuntarily. 

“Oh, and Nakahara?” Dazai pauses, turning back briefly to give him a coy little smirk. Chuuya stares, still speechless and stupid. “Good work today, I really am impressed.” 

And then he's gone. 

Confused, and unable to process what just happened, he tries to turn his attention back to packing up his belongings. He grabs the thick textbook, his eyes only briefly visiting the cover before he notices something he didn't before. Down below, along the bottom of the book, reads: 

Written by Dr. Dazai Osamu

Chuuya grits his teeth and shoves the book into his bag with a bit more force than necessary. 

That asshole is going to make his life a living hell, he just knows it. 

Chapter Text

The first week of classes is exhausting. Chuuya has fielded way too many emails about due dates and extensions and he's already had enough. On top of that, he still hasn't been able to fully process his first class with Dr. Dazai Osamu. 

He doesn’t get the guy at all. 

But by the end of the week, he has to pull himself together for their first official meeting. He's still embarrassed and pissed off about how the first lecture went…and hell, he's confused by the scent that he can't get out of his own head! Was he not wearing any sort of scent blocker at all, or are his alpha pheromones really that strong? 

He shudders at the thought.

His afternoons are mostly spent in the office he shares with the other candidates in his cohort. Mostly he keeps to himself, not having the patience for anyone else's stress on top of his own. 

“Hey, Nakahara,” One of them—Yosano, he remembers—addresses him out of the blue. Chuuya does his best to not seem annoyed when he looks up. 

“Hmm?” 

“A bunch of us are going out for drinks tonight, you in?” she asks, leaning against his desk in a way that's much too friendly. Sure, they're colleagues or whatever, but he doesn't really know any of these people like that. They aren’t necessarily strangers, either—He met all of them before the semester even started at orientation, and they’re both in all of his graduate classes. Definitely wouldn’t consider them to be friends, though.

That being said, he absolutely could use a drink after the week he's had. 

“Sure, why not,” he sighs. “I have my TA meeting to get to first, though.” 

“Ooh, on a Friday night? That's lame.” 

“You've got Dazai, don't you?” One of his other colleagues, an omega named Junichiro, chimes in. “I heard he's a little… unconventional.” 

“That's one way of putting it,” Chuuya mutters in response. A nice, tame way of putting it is more like it. He glances down at his watch and grimaces. “Fuck, I gotta go.” 

“We'll be at the pub by the laundromat by seven,” Yosano reminds him. “You better be there!” 

“Oh, trust me, I'll need it after this meeting. I'll be there,” he says, giving them both an exasperated look. 

“I don't know how you do it, that guy gives me chills,” Junichiro shudders. “So weird! I'd have asked to be switched, especially since he's a…well, you know.” 

“No?” Chuuya says, raising an eyebrow. His response only earns him an awkward laugh. 

“There's a rumor that Dazai is a prime,” Yosano supplies. 

Chuuya nearly chokes. 

Prime alphas are rare, practically unheard of. The only thing he actually knows about them is that they're much more, uh, virile than regular alphas. And he definitely doesn't need to be thinking about Dazai in that sort of light. 

But then he remembers his scent and oh god— No! No, no, no, no, no.

Not happening!

“I'm leaving,” he grits, finally slinging his bag over his shoulder and marching out the door before anyone else can fill his head with any more rumors. 

He doesn't have to go far; Dazai's office is just on the next floor. But he finds himself wishing it was further away, so that he might have a little more time to get his head on straight. Junichiro’s comment about the possibility of Dazai being a prime is still nagging at the back of his mind, teasing him and making things more awkward than they have to be.

As expected, he arrives at the office marked with the nameplate Dr. Dazai Osamu far sooner than he's prepared to. 

Alright. It's not a big deal. He can handle a private conversation with a nice-smelling weirdo. And then he can go out and drink to forget said conversation with said sweet-smelling weirdo. It's a plan he fully intends on following through with, too. 

Reluctantly, he knocks against the wooden door and waits for a response. He gives what seems like an appropriate amount of time before knocking again. 

As annoying as it is to think that he might have forgotten about their meeting, he'd be lying if he said he isn't at least a little bit relieved. Maybe it's a free pass to just scoot on out and catch up with the others at the pub—

“Come in!” A muted voice calls from within. 

Ugh. 

It's like he read his damn mind and purposely sabotaged his fantasy. 

Chuuya opens the door, not expecting to be hit with the full force of alpha pheromones. It's the same cinnamon-mahogany smell from before, but way more potent than it should. Like someone’s taken it and concentrated it as much as humanly possible. And it’s good (god, it smells so fucking good) but it’s intense.

“Fuck!” he can't help but exclaim, immediately clasping a hand over his nose and mouth. It's only then that he lays eyes on Dazai and the rest of his office. 

The space is small, but lined floor-to-ceiling with books and papers and all sorts of crap. It's a giant mess, and at the back of the room is an old couch where the alpha sits, eyes wide like he's surprised by Chuuya's reaction. 

“Is everything okay?” He asks, blinking. And Chuuya swears there might actually be genuine concern in his eyes. 

“The smell! Why would you have me meet you here while you're in rut ?” The more he thinks about it, the more pissed off he gets. Because of course an asshole alpha would think he could just go into rut whenever and expect the whole world to just deal with it—

“What? I'm not in rut.” He says it like he's surprised Chuuya would even say something like that. 

Still grabbing at his nose with his fingers, he glares in Dazai's direction—Dr. Dazai Osamu, whose face looks like the picture of innocence and it's annoying as hell! Stupid big, brown eyes and pouty lips. 

“Well your scent says otherwise,” Chuuya scoffs. Why is he even surprised?! 

“And I think I know when my own rut cycles are. I literally just had an omega colleague come by and she didn't even mention a smell,” he explains. “Tell me, what exactly are you smelling?”

For just a moment, Chuuya releases his nose to test the air again, on the off chance that might have overreacted. As soon as he lets go, it’s back to nearly overpowering all of his senses and he immediately plugs his nose again.  

“Alpha pheromones,” Chuuya asserts. “You've must spend ruts in here then, because it fucking reeks.” 

“No, I mean, what does it smell like? To you, that is.” Dazai's eyes don't seem quite as wide anymore, hinting that maybe he's being serious for once. 

“Um,” Chuuya swallows thickly. It's such an awkward thing to do, to describe someone else's scent to their face. It's so personal, and different people pick up on different notes, so it's easy to get it wrong. 

Like, for instance, Chuuya knows his own scent. Sweet, like warm sugar and vanilla, and when he's in heat, that scent grows thicker, more musky. 

Once, he slept with this beta who said he smelled like strawberries, and despite the fact that he knows betas aren't as good at identifying pheromones, it still stung. It felt like he’d invited someone into his bed who didn’t even know him. Scents are like a part of one's identity for omegas and alphas. 

“It's like cinnamon…and mahogany, I think,” he says, awkwardly avoiding his gaze, wondering if he should include the last part. “And…warm candlelight.” 

Dazai's eyebrows rise ever so slightly and his lips twitch, like he's having to put in a great amount of effort to keep a straight face. Chuuya frowns and his face grows hot—It wouldn't be so awkward if Dazai hadn't asked him such an embarrassing question! 

“Interesting,” Dazai murmurs. “And it's really that strong?”

“Yes, it's—” Unbearable isn't really the right word, is it? If it was appropriate, Chuuya would gladly unplug his nose and drink in that scent until he's sending himself into an early heat with all those damn pheromones. “It’s really strong.”

Instincts are a bitch like that. But Chuuya isn't one to argue with them if he doesn't have to. In fact, he loves being in heat. It's the only time each month where he can hide away on his own in his nest—releasing as many pheromones as he wants, riding a knotted dildo like his life depends on it. Afterwards, he always feels so… at ease, which is wildly different than how he feels at any other time. 

“That's exactly how I would describe it, too,” Dazai finally says.

Chuuya looks up quickly, eyes locked onto Dazai's as if he's trying to find some subtle hint that he's joking.  

Please be fucking joking.

Because getting a scent exactly right isn't just luck. It's a sign of superior compatibility. Which really feels like some sort of sick joke given his last encounter with the man. 

“I—um, we have to talk about my thesis proposal,” Chuuya reminds him, feeling more and more restless with all this talk of scenting and pheromones. Damn it, if only he never said anything and just tried to keep a straight face! “And we also need to talk about your lecture because I don't know what your expectations are and—”

“Shh,” he says, and Chuuya's jaw nearly drops to the floor at the audacity. How dare he shush him! “I thought the lecture went well. I'll admit, I was a bit worried at first, but then you really started pushing back and it made the lecture much more enjoyable.” 

“...Huh?” Chuuya raises an eyebrow. He swears this man is already giving him whiplash. One second, Chuuya thinks he has Dazai all figured out, and then the next, well…He does whatever he fucking wants! 

“You’re smart. It's better when you stick to your guns. I would be so bored by a TA who agreed with everything I said just because of my perceived status.” 

Yet again, Dazai is full of surprises, and this time pleasantly so. 

“Well, I am pretty good at arguing, if that's what you want.” 

Dazai chuckles at that, like he finds it amusing that Chuuya wants to argue with him. 

“Sure, sure. And as far as the proposal goes…It's not due until next month, why are you so eager to start now?” he groans, as if talking about the proposal would be more work for him than it would be for Chuuya. 

“I like being able to get ahead of schedule.” 

“Sometimes it's nice to slow down, though.” 

Chuuya narrows his eyes. The alpha still sits back on the couch, clearly at ease and mildly amused. 

“Well, I can slow down when I'm dead!” Chuuya grits, only vaguely aware that arguing while pinching his own nose does not bode well for him making a point. He looks absolutely ridiculous.

“Theoretically,” Dazai shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe death will be nothing but thesis papers for you.” 

“ Theoretically, death is relaxing and peaceful, and since we don't know which one is correct, then both of our theories can be assumed to be true.” 

Dazai's smile grows wider, and he sits up a little straighter. “Well why don't you commit to a double-suicide with me and find out?” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Chuuya snaps, caught off guard by the inappropriately morbid suggestion. As soon as he snaps, though, he slaps a hand over his mouth because he just fucking yelled at his supervisor! But in an attempt to cover up his stupid mouth, he lets go of his nose and fuck, that fucking scent—

“Sorry, sorry, I'm only kidding. Kind of. Ha, don't look at me like that, I'm not upset. I often wonder what the fuck is wrong with me as well.” 

So, he’s not mad. Chuuya nods slowly, but it’s a little hard to focus when his brain is quickly filling with nothing but cinnamon and mahogany. Why is this happening to him? Why does such an incredible scent have to come from someone like Dr. Dazai Osamu?

“It's not fair…” 

“What isn't?” 

Chuuya breathes in sharply, not realizing he'd even said something out loud…Or that he'd taken several steps closer to Dazai…

“Huh?” he chokes, stupidly. 

“Chuuya, are you alright?” Dazai asks him, reaching out and nearly grabbing him by the wrist. He stops short though, like he's decided better of it. 

“I'm fine, it's your damn scent,” Chuuya scoffs, moving to pinch the bridge of his nose again. It's no use, though. He's already taken in too much of it. “I think you're lying. What kinda shitty professor invites an omega to his office while he's in rut?” 

It's such a stupid question. 

“A pretty shitty one, I think. I already told you, though. I'm not in rut,” he tells him. 

This time, his fingers finally close around Chuuya's wrist and he's gentle, but his touch burns.  

“You should sit,” Dazai says, after clearing his throat. There's something different about his voice—No longer aloof and light, but darker, more grisly. 

“No, I'm fine,” Chuuya says. Dazai gives the lightest tug at his wrist and Chuuya collapses into a heap next to him. “I'm just—Your scent.” 

“I know, you keep saying that and… What kind of TA comes to visit their professor while in heat?”  

“What are you talking about?” Chuuya groans, pushing himself up into a better sitting position. He twists slightly, so that he can rest his head against the back of the couch while he glares at Dazai. 

“You're spreading your pheromones all over my office. Who said you could do that?” Dazai asks. His words are accusing, but his voice lacks the bite it should have. Instead, his voice is soft and…It's alluring. 

“I'm not,” Chuuya promises. 

“Mmm,” Dazai hums, leaning back against the couch, so that he's eye-level with Chuuya. He's so close, leaving less than a foot between them. But Chuuya isn’t complaining. In fact, he'd like it very much if Dazai could come closer. 

“If that's so, then what do I smell like?” Chuuya challenges, his lips curling into a half-assed smirk. The way Dazai's eyes flicker down to his lips for just a moment sends a shiver down Chuuya's spine. Their eyes meet again, soft brown boring into glassy blue…

“Warm sugar…vanilla…notes of musk somewhere in there.” 

Chuuya's heart nearly stops. 

“How—I don't understand,” Chuuya gasps. 

“There's such a thing as fated pairs, you know…” Dazai says, and Chuuya's face burns at the bold assumption. They're practically strangers! To insinuate that they're so compatible that they're destined to mate, well, it's preposterous! 

Absolutely insane. 

“I don't believe in fate, I'm more of a determinist,” Chuuya chuckles, weakly deflecting such a heavy topic. 

The soft smile Dazai gives him in response nearly causes Chuuya to melt. 

“Funny, so am I…and yet, fated mates can be proven by science…” He swears Dazai moves closer. Or maybe Chuuya's the one moving—argh!

“They can…but experiencing such a thing is so unlikely that—” 

He's not sure if he trails off, or if Dazai's the one who shuts him up after that. But the next thing he knows, their lips are touching in a soft, tentative kiss. So curious, yet so cautious. 

Just as quickly as it starts, it's already over. Dazai pulls back, just a little, just enough so he can speak. 

“Chuuya…” he whispers softly. “I didn't expect this from you.” 

The way he words it has Chuuya's heart leaping into his throat. Was he really the one who kissed him first? What kind of idiot is he? 

“The thing about experiences like death or fated mates or anything in between…Once you have that experience, you can never go back to a prior time when you didn't.” 

“Sorry, I don't—” 

“Shh,” he whispers, leaning in to press his forehead gently against Chhuya's. And this time, it makes Chuuya a little less angry. In fact, it makes him shiver. “I didn't say I was opposed to a new experience.”

“Oh,” Chuuya breathes. His heart nearly skips a beat. “We shouldn't…right?” 

“According to whom?” 

Chuuya…doesn't know, actually. Maybe Dazai is in a position of relative power, maybe it would be a little bit scandalous to continue kissing him… But that's something that future Chuuya can deal with.

Before he can convince himself not to, he surges forward again to connect their lips. This time, there's nothing soft about the kiss, and Dazai responds with an enthusiasm that eases any sort of anxiety about whether or not he's just as into it as Chuuya is. 

Dr. Dazai Osamu's lips are thin, but warm and wet, sucking in Chuuya's bottom lip so that his teeth can graze it. Moving in tandem, Chuuya slips his arms around Dazai's neck just as Dazai swiftly pulls Chuuya into his lap. 

It's kind of funny, because if anyone had asked him thirty minutes ago if he'd ever hook up with the man, he'd have laughed in their face. And yet, here he is, his tongue sliding against Dazai's like he wants to be swallowed. 

In this new position, Chuuya straddles Dazai's lap, and the alpha's hands sit firmly on his hips, holding him close. Holding him tight.  

He wasn't ready to acknowledge it before, but now that they've entered a more compromising position, it's much harder to ignore the growing wetness between his legs. The heat builds in his groin, aching and burning and wanting . 

This alpha is made for you. 

Only you. 

Chuuya shudders as Dazai breaks from the kiss, only for his mouth to immediately find his jaw, peppering wet, needy kisses along it. When he drops his head, his nose brushes against the alpha's scent gland and oh god, he can't take it anymore. He needs it. He needs him. 

Involuntarily, Chuuya rolls his hips. Just to be closer to the amazing smelling alpha beneath him. He shouldn't be surprised, but his breath still catches in his throat when he rubs up against something large and hard beneath Dazai's pants. 

Oh. 

They're gonna do it, aren't they? This is what Dazai meant about not being able to go back—Once they have sex, they can never go back to a time before where they didn't know what the other was like in bed. Will Chuuya really be okay with whatever consequences that may bring? 

“You're so fucking sexy,” Dazai growls, his voice low and his breath hot against Chuuya's neck. 

Oh, fuck it, he doesn't care. 

“Fuck me,” Chuuya demands, earning a flash of excitement in the alpha's eyes. 

“Feisty,” He chuckles. But he eagerly complies, quickly flipping them over so that Chuuya is laying across the couch on his back. Long, slender fingers work open the buttons on his pants, loosening them so he can yank them down to his ankles. Chuuya gasps, not expecting clothes to be gone so quickly. (Not that he's complaining.) 

Just as eager, Chuuya kicks at his shoes so he can free one leg from the pants, allowing himself to spread his legs wide for the alpha. 

Chuuya's never really been shy about sex. Especially if he's attracted to someone, he's always been more than willing to show off. He knows what he's got. And what he's got is a perfectly groomed pussy and chubby, perky little cocklet. 

“Ahh, so it is natural.” 

“What is?” Chuuya scoffs, impatient already. 

“Your hair color.” 

His eyes widen as he realizes what Dazai means, and when it clicks, he has to resist the urge to kick him right in the face. “Shut up, don’t say stupid things!” 

Dazai laughs just before swooping down between his thighs and dragging his tongue along the space where his folds meet, hot and wet and—

“Oh fuck,” Chuuya moans, throwing his head back against the couch cushions. Dazai hums, like that was the reaction he'd been hoping for, and then immediately flicks his tongue between his lower lips, expertly tasting every drop of slick he can. Chuuya’s hands find Dazai’s hair—And shit, it really is as soft and fluffy as it looks—so he can hold him there. Or at least hold onto something.  

After working him open just a bit, the alpha’s lips close around his cocklet, suckling gently before swirling his tongue all the way around, languid and slow and torturous. Chuuya groans loudly, biting his own tongue as he tries to keep his voice down. 

“Keep it down, don’t want anyone coming in, right?” Dazai warns. Chuuya scowls and gives his hair a semi-gentle tug. 

“I’m trying, dammit.” 

Dazai only flashes him a stupid looking grin before sitting back on his knees and unbuckling his belt. Curious about what he's in for, Chuuya props himself on his elbows and watches shamelessly as Dazai pushes his own slacks down to about mid-thigh. 

“There's a rumor that Dazai is a prime…” 

Yosano’s words immediately cross his mind as he lays eyes on the massive length that springs free. He's seen alpha cocks before—Not a single one has been nearly as thick or as long as Dazai’s. Even his balls are fucking huge. 

Unconsciously, Chuuya bites his bottom lip and spreads his legs just a little wider…Oh fuck will it even fit?!

He watches, filled with anticipation, as Dazai strokes himself slowly. 

“Fuck, hurry up already,” Chuuya grits. 

“Patience is a virtue,” Dazai teases, earning a loud, exasperated groan. Chuuya scoffs and lays back down, unable to look at the alpha when he's teasing like that. 

But just as soon as he's down, that hard, throbbing tip is pressing at his entrance, teasing by lightly sliding through Chuuya's slick. He hisses at the contact, looking up again to watch as Dazai pushes in. 

The girth of his cock spreads him open until he's full. Even when he's this wet, this turned on by such thick pheromones, the stretch is almost too much. 

“F-fuck,” he stammers, throwing his head back as Dazai fully seats himself inside. There's something about being full of a prime alpha's cock that drives his inner omega wild. He wants more. He wants it all. 

“Damn, you're so tight… omega.” 

Chuuya moans loudly. His omega purrs at the way the alpha addresses him. Like he's satisfied, like his pheromones have successfully attracted his mate and now they're becoming one—

It reminds him of the way he feels in heat, where he's able to unwind and give in. Let his instincts take over instead of his anxiety. 

Dazai leans over him, bracing himself against the arm of the couch as he starts to move. Every nerve ending in his body seems to light up as he feels the drag of Dazai's alpha cock against his inner walls, slow and steady before slamming back in all at once. 

“Oh—” he chokes as Dazai's thrusts gain speed and force until he's full-on fucking him. Chuuya can't help the mewls and whines that escape his throat, or the way he claws at Dazai's shoulders. He's warm and heavy…

He barely notices anything else until Dazai tugs at his cocklet, roughly massaging it until he's seeing stars. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chuuya cries out, jolting as all the pleasure starts to build and build until he can't tolerate it anymore. “Alpha please! Alpha, alpha—” 

His back arches and his vision goes white as he climaxes, his walls squeezing, pulsing around the alpha's girth. As he does, he can feel him growing inside—thicker, wider…

“N-no, it's too much,” Chuuya chokes, though his protests are weak because he's still riding out wave after wave of his own orgasm. “It won't fit like this.”

“It will,” Dazai insists, his voice rough and ragged. He makes one final push, letting out a deep, feral growl as his knot finally pops, catching inside and spilling into Chuuya's tired cunt. 

His chest heaves as Dazai collapses against him, spent and damp with sweat. The alpha buries his face into the couch cushions right above Chuuya's shoulder. 

As he tries to catch his breath, he stares up at the ceiling. His heart eventually slows to a normal rate and he notices that the scent doesn't seem as overbearing as it did when he first entered. It's like having sex with Dazai sated his instincts just enough to—

“Wait! Fuck, get up! Get up!” he shouts, smacking Dazai's shoulder.

“Nnnngh, no, I'm tired now,” he whines, refusing to move. 

“No, you have to pull out—We didn't use a fucking condom.” 

Dazai lets out a tired sigh, propping himself just enough to look Chuuya in the eyes. “And what do you suppose we can do about that now?” 

“Pull out and I can wash it out or something.” 

“You're kinda stupid, aren't you?” 

“ What?!” Chuuya bites back a scream and opts for punching Dazai in the shoulder instead. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” 

“I said you're stupid. Maybe not completely. But you can't seriously think that would help. I thought you were smarter than that.” 

“Asshole!” 

“Unless you really want to undergo massive reconstructive surgery, then I would prefer not to pull out while I have you knotted.” 

Chuuya clenches his jaw shut in frustration, nostrils flaring because he really is a fucking idiot. Why the hell did he think it would be a good idea to open his legs to a prime alpha with a massive knot? 

He groans and presses his hands over his eyes.  “Fuck, just kill me now.” 

“And what would the benefit of that be? Ooh, wait, hold that thought—” 

Chuuya winces at the slight pull down below as Dazai moves to reach for something on the end table by the couch. Suddenly he's much more aware of what he meant by reconstructive surgery. 

“What the hell?” He twists with him to see what he's doing. “What the fuck are you writing?” 

“Just a little note—You gave me an idea for class. What chapter do we cover assisted suicide?” he asks, having the gall to mention class when he's balls deep in his TA. 

“I don't know, you're the one who wrote the book aren't you? Wait, no, don't write that—You're insane!” 

Dazai lets out a pleased chuckle, his eyes wide with excitement. “Ooh, I'm already liking this decision.” 

“What decision?” 

“To fuck you. We crossed a line and now you have absolutely no reservations about arguing with me and calling me names. It's like I've unlocked a new level of Nakahara Chuuya. Very exciting.” 

Chuuya opens his mouth to speak, but he's so confused and angry that no words come out. They crossed a line, alright. A line they can never un cross. 

But unlike Dazai, Chuuya isn't quite sure how he feels about that yet. 

Chapter Text

Chuuya uses the front-facing camera on his phone to double check his face one last time. His hair is back in place, his face and neck clear of any bruises or bite marks. He’s finally ready to meet his colleagues for drinks, but the last thing he needs is for anyone else to find out what he's done. 

That he slept with his supervisor. 

He already checked—There's nothing in his handbook that explicitly forbids sexual relations, but ethically speaking, there's no way anyone would approve of what they did. (Despite the fact that Dazai already assured him that he had no problems with it, because he wouldn't hesitate to reject his thesis or give him a bad evaluation regardless of how good he was in bed.) 

Well, at least he got one thing right tonight—That he'd need a fucking drink after his meeting with Dr. Dazai Osamu. Just not for the reasons he thought he'd be needing said drink. Instead of needing to recover from Dazai’s shenanigans, he’s in need of a recovery from his own stupidity.

Once he's pretty sure he has himself composed, he strides into the pub, which is already packed wall-to-wall with rambunctious college kids. It reeks of pheromones and cheap alcohol, but none of it fucks with his head the way Dazai's pheromones did. This is what it should be like. Chuuya should have been able to waltz into Dazai’s pheromone-drenched office without batting an eye.

He pushes through the crowds, but can't seem to find Junichiro or Yosano anywhere. Why the hell did they pick such a crowded bar?

“Hey, you lost?” Some drunk, undergrad alpha slurs a little too close to his ear. 

“Fuck off,” Chuuya grits. He doesn’t have time for idiots, he's already been through enough nonsense for one night! 

“Oooh, some attitude ya got there. ‘Specially for an omega who smells like sex.” 

Chuuya stiffens at the accusation. Like sex? How could he smell like sex? Either way, he's not about to let some knot-head faze him. 

“So what makes you think your pencil dick is gonna satisfy me after I've been knotted so hard I still smell like his cum?” It's a crude thing to say, but thankfully shocking enough that the guy just decides to call him a bitch and move on. 

Now that that's out of the way…maybe he should just cut his losses and see if he still has anything back at home. He had no clue there was any sort of lingering scent. Did Dazai really scent him that hard that others can tell? 

Fuck, he should leave before—

“Nakahara! Over here!” 

—The others notice him. 

Well. Fuck. 

It's fine. Yosano’s a beta and Junichiro is an omega…maybe they won't notice a scent like that alpha did. Chuuya should be fine. 

Act normal. 

That's all he has to do. 

He turns towards Yosano’s voice and gives a friendly wave before heading over to their booth in the corner. It's a little further away from all the ruckus at the bar, which is much preferred. 

“That took a while, I was starting to worry you wouldn't show,” Yosano said. “Everyone else bailed early so it's just Junichiro and me.” 

“What do you mean just us? We're like, the life of the party you know?” Junichiro scoffs. His face is flushed a light shade of pink from his cheeks to his neck. 

“Sorry, he's drunk,” Yosano sighs. “So, how was your meeting?” 

“Don't wanna talk about it.” 

“That bad?” 

“He's a damn nutcase, there’s nothing else to say, really.” Chuuya sighs. A nutcase with a big dick and the best scent in the fucking world. 

“Sorry to hear it,” Yosano sighs. “Well, you’re here now, so have a drink and we can talk about literally anything else.”

“Yeah, like how you totally got laid, didn't you?” Junichiro hums. Chuuya inhales sharply, his ears turning bright red at the accusation. Crap, how the hell did he know? 

“You're drunk,” Chuuya reminds him. 

“Yeah, maybe, but I still know sex pheromones when I smell them. Do you have a mate?” Junichiro asks. 

“What? No.”

“Is that why you were so late?” 

Oh fuck, he's dead. He's been caught and he hasn't even made it through the night yet! 

“What do you mean?” Chuuya chuckles awkwardly. 

“You're meeting didn't run over, you just made a pit stop for a hook-up before you got here? Jeez, I didn't realize you were such a horndog, Chuuya.” 

Well, at least he can breathe easier now. Thankfully their first assumption isn't that he let Dr. Dazai fuck him. Even though that's definitely what happened. 

“What can I say? It's an omega thing, you wouldn't get it.” He shrugs, earning a mildly annoyed look from the beta across the table. 

“How is that an omega thing? I'm an omega, and it's not like you're in heat are you?” 

Fucking Junichiro, hasn't he ever heard of omega solidarity? 

“Uh, no.” 

“Well then why do you smell like that?!” 

“Excuse me, it's rude to talk about people's scents like that,” Chuuya scoffs. “Besides, I don't smell anything out of the ordinary so I think you're just drunk.” 

“That's strange,” Junichiro muses, finally letting the subject die. 

Chuuya ends up ordering a round of shots for the three of them under the guise of an apology for showing up so late. Really he's just hoping that more alcohol will get them off his back about all the sex stuff. 

Of course, if it was anyone else, Chuuya wouldn’t have any problem with airing the details of his sex life to acquaintances. Sex has always been something he could do casually, no strings attached. Based on his own history, he should even be able to shrug off this encounter with Dazai with much more ease than he’s able to. And yet there’s just something about it that weighs heavy on his mind, like some sort of subconscious premonition that this time, his life might actually change. 

As an omega, he’s been lucky enough that he’s never had to deal with longer than normal, or irregular heats. His come on like clockwork, and are over within two days, tops. His window for conception is so small that it’s practically non-existent. So, he’s always figured that the best contraceptive for himself would be to just avoid getting fucked by an alpha while he’s in heat. Of course, nothing’s ever completely fool-proof. 

“I have a question for you guys,” Chuuya slurs, after an undefined amount of time has passed. He’s pretty sure he’s only had like, three shots, but the room spins like he’s had at least ten. (So, maybe he’s a lightweight—Fuck off.)

“Hmm?” Yosano humors him. If he was sober, he might recognize the amusement in her expression, clearly intrigued by Chuuya’s drunken state. 

“D’you think fated pairs are real?” Chuuya blurts out. It’s a stupid, dumb thing to ask, but the question is already leaving his lips before he has the chance to think about whether or not he should. Clearly, making good decisions is not in the cards for him today. 

“Fated pairs?” Yosano repeats. “What do you mean? It’s not an urban legend, it’s an actual, diagnosable phenomenon.” 

“No, no it’s not,” he scoffs. “Next you’re gonna tell me unicorns are real.” 

“That’s totally different—Did you really think that was fake?” Yosano chuckles, shaking her head like it’s funny that Chuuya didn’t know. Maybe in some sick, twisted way, it is. “Sure, it’s rare, but it definitely happens. My grandparents were a fated pair.”

“Okay, then…So what if they’re real, it’s not really a big deal, is it?” Again, he really needs to learn how to stop asking questions that he doesn’t want the answers to. 

“No, it’s a super big deal, Chuuya!” Junichiro exclaims. “If you’re lucky enough to find your fated mate, it’ll change everything. Oh my god, is that why you smell like that? Did you meet your fated mate—Did they claim you—”

“No! That’s fucking stupid, obviously I didn’t,” Chuuya yells, way too defensive for someone who’s innocent. Junichiro’s stupid smile only grows wider and wider and Chuuya has to physically push his face away to avoid looking at it. “Oh my god, Chuuya! I can’t believe it! You have to tell us everything!” 

“The hell I don’t,” he snaps. “Besides, I didn’t meet my fated pair. If I had, I wouldn’t be here asking if fated pairs were real, now would I?” 

“You’re being awfully defensive,” Yosano points out. “Tell us about the alpha you slept with earlier.” 

“No,” he grits. And he should leave it at that. God, please, he needs to just leave it at that and stop fucking talking— “It’s a secret, and I don’t even know if I can trust you guys yet.” 

“Oh, you can trust us! You can! Tell him, Yosano!” he whines. Junichiro is far less sober than Chuuya—He might forget this entire conversation even happened by the time morning rolls around. But Yosano seems to have an unlimited tolerance for alcohol—She would definitely remember everything. 

“Well, at this point, I’m starting to think you might have no choice but to trust us,” Yosano smirks. “You’ve been awfully strange all night, you left for a meeting and came back smelling like sex—”

“Shh! Be quiet! Shut up!” Chuuya shouts, standing up from his seat and leaving across the table. Quickly, he glances around the bar, as if any of the other drunk patrons are going to give a fuck about their conversation. 

“Oh my god, Chuuya, you didn’t—Did you?” Yosano gasps, her eyes wide, and her lips twitching like she’s holding back laughter. Laughter! At a time like this! 

“What? What did he do?” Junichiro asks, eager to know, but not catching on the same way Yosano seems to be. 

“I want to hear him admit it,” Yosano smirks. 

“Admit what? There’s nothing to admit!” Chuuya sits back down, trying his best to show a relaxed and care-free posture. He’s not quite sure he nailed it, but he probably did. “I don’t know what you think you figured out, but I doubt it’s anywhere close to the truth.” 

“Hmm, alright then, tell me if I’m wrong. I think you fucked Dr. Dazai.” 

All he has to do is tell her she’s wrong, that she’s out of her damn mind for thinking something so absolutely ridiculous. He’s a good debater, there’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to come up with a good argument to throw her off his tail. 

But Drunk Chuuya is stupid.

“You can’t tell anyone, okay?!” he hisses, panicked. She knows! They all know! Now they have to be his accomplices and he has no choice but to confide in them and trust them and pray to all that is holy that they don’t report him to the department chair—

“Holy fuck, Nakahara, I was just messing with you—You seriously—Oh my god,” she gushes, while Junichiro just gapes  at him. Oh, crap. 

“Hah, I was just kidding!” 

“No, you weren’t. Oh my god, how did that even happen?” Yosano wants to know. She and Junichiro both lean in closer as if they’re actually extremely invested in his answer. “You have to tell us everything.” 

“I don’t!” 

“Aw, why not! I wanna hear if the rumors are true about him being a prime! Is that why you smell like sex? Did Dazai—” 

“Shhhhh!” Chuuya hisses, covering Junichiro’s mouth with his own hands. “Fine, I’ll tell you, okay? But you need to stop being so damn loud.”  

“If you’re that worried about it, it must be pretty juicy,” Yosano says. “I’ll pick up the tab, and then we can all head back to my place where it’s more private.” 

It’s definitely a better option than telling them everything in the middle of a crowded bar, but still seems pretty dreadful. But at this point, if he doesn’t give up any details, they’re going to start assuming all sorts of crazy shit, and he definitely doesn’t want that.

Once again, he’s crossed a line and now he can’t go back. Because of his own dumb mouth, he now has not one, but two people in his department who know about his ethical dilemma. On the bright side, at least he doesn’t have to pay for his drinks. 

Yosano lives in another apartment building off campus, close enough for the three of them to walk. The nighttime air is relatively cool, giving Chuuya at least a little reprieve from the alcohol that’s been dulling his common sense for the past few hours. At least he’s in better shape than Junichiro, who’s stumbling all over the place and babbling on about something his sister did the other day. Chuuya’s not really following the story, he’s not really paying attention to much of anything, actually. 

Before he knows it, they’re outside Yosano’s apartment, waiting for her to unlock it. Her place is nice - neatly decorated, albeit lacking any sort of warmth. Oddly enough, Chuuya finds that comforting for some reason. He doesn’t know Yosano very well, but she seems like the kind of person who’s kind, without being overly sappy about it. 

Inside her living room, he sits down on her couch while Junichiro opts for the floor.

“You sure you’re alright?” Chuuya asks him, while Yosano disappears into another room to grab water for each of them. Junichiro  rolls onto his side and props himself up on one elbow. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he sighs. “It’s just been a while since I’ve had friends to go drinking with, I went a little overboard I guess.” 

Chuuya stares at him for a moment, wanting to turn up his nose at being referred to as one of his friends. Admittedly, he’s never been one to keep people close. He always kind of assumes that people have bad intentions, or keeps them at an arms’ length. That being said, he also didn’t think he’d be the kind of person to sleep with someone he hated just because he liked the way they smelled. Maybe Chuuya’s more capable of making friends than he thinks he is. 

“Well, be careful next time,” he says, quietly, looking away when Junichiro’s eyes get a little too misty. “Just sayin’ we don’t need to be taking you to the emergency room. It’s not like we’re a bunch of undergrad frat boys, okay?” 

“Got it!” Junichiro laughs. 

Yosano returns with three glasses of water and takes the spot on the couch next to Chuuya. 

“Alright, start talking,” Yosano sighs. “And I know you don’t want us to tell anyone, but I swear to god, if he forced himself onto you—”

“No, it’s not like that!” he scoffs. “I just…I didn’t mean for it to happen, but his scent was just…it wasn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced before. And he identified every note of my scent.” 

“Is that…a good thing? 

“Uh, yeah?” Junichiro supplies. “Nothing worse than sleeping with an alpha that doesn’t even get your scent right. It’s about compatibility.” 

“So you’re like, really compatible with…Dr. Dazai?” She says his name like she recognizes exactly how twisted the whole thing is. 

“Unfortunately. I had a lapse in judgment. It won’t happen again.” 

“You sure about that?” Junichiro asks. “If he’s your fated mate…”

“Fated mate or not, I can’t be sleeping with my supervisor,” Chuuya scoffs. He has morals! Sometimes. 

“Can’t you ask for a different assignment? I’m pretty sure my supervisor would be willing to take on another candidate, he’s actually bummed he only has one this semester,” Yosano offers. 

“No, I don’t need another assignment, I can handle this. I’m not gonna run away from something just because it might be a little awkward now,” Chuuya sighs. He can say that with absolute conviction, too. He is not going to let Dr. Dazai Osamu ruin his semester. 

“If you're sure…just know it’s an option.” 

Chuuya lets out a long sigh and decides to thank her. It’s weird to talk about it out loud, but it isn’t nearly as bad as he thinks it’s going to be. Yosano and Junichiro don’t scold him or freak out, they just… listen to him. 

It’s kind of nice. 

—

As confident as Chuuya is, he is a little nervous when he ends up back in the lecture hall for Dazai’s class. Once again, he arrives earlier than everyone else, but this time he’s actually hoping that Dazai runs late just like last time. 

But luck isn’t on his side, not today. 

The next person to enter the lecture hall isn’t an undergrad student, it’s Dazai. And he happens to walk in right after Chuuya has finished hooking his laptop up to the projector. 

“Oh, hello Chuuya,” he says, politely. It irks Chuuya for some reason. 

He makes eye contact with him, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he picks up the remote and turns the projector on. Dazai pauses, looking at Chuuya, then up at the projector screen, and then back at Chuuya again. 

“I told you last time that I don’t like this thing.” 

“Yeah, well you’re not the one trying to get a good grade in this class. Some people need to see the notes so they can follow along,” Chuuya says. That, and he didn’t make an entire semester’s worth of slides for this stupid class to just not use them. 

“Sometimes, the best way to learn is through engaging conversation.” His voice is even, his lips quirked into a sly grin. Remembering all the things Dazai had said about liking when Chuuya argued, he realizes the man must be purposely pushing his buttons. 

“Awfully presumptuous of you to assume all 253 students would agree with that,” Chuuya shrugs. “The slides stay, you can invest in a pair of ear plugs if it bothers you that much.” 

Dazai keeps his gaze fixed on him for a moment, before finally letting out a lofty sigh and shaking his head. “You make a good point, Chuuya. I’ll let you have this one, I suppose.” 

“Thanks,” Chuuya says, stiffly. 

But then Dazai steps closer and lowers his voice. Chuuya freezes and avoids eye contact, wondering what the hell he thinks he’s doing—

“Please tell me you aren’t acting cold because I didn’t call you after.” 

Chuuya’s nostrils flare and he immediately turns his head back to face that stupid alpha. He’s a little startled by how close he is, but he refuses to react to that. 

“Don’t flatter yourself. I couldn’t care less.” 

“Oh? Well, that’s good,” Dazai replies, smiling and finally backing the fuck up. Chuuya lets go of a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. Thankfully his scent is fainter now, not nearly as overpowering as it had been last week. 

Was it because they…?

“Oh, send me your thesis proposal, by the way.” 

“I thought you didn’t want it,” Chuuya mutters. 

“Well now I do. You said you were ready, so go ahead and send it before our next meeting this Friday,” Dazai suggests. “No pressure.” 

“Whatever, sure.” 

They both look up as others start to slowly trickle in. And maybe Dazai isn’t a total idiot, because as soon as more eyes are on them, he busies himself with his own laptop and makes small talk with students who come up to ask him questions. Practically ignores Chuuya until class starts. 

“Does anyone have any questions about this week's chapter?” Dazai asks, beginning his lecture in a relatively normal way. He smiles brightly as several hands shoot up, and Chuuya straightens in his seat, curious to hear how he’ll respond to all of these questions about his own theories. 

“No questions? Okay, good!” He exclaims, clapping his hands together. Chuuya’s grin instantly disappears. “We’re gonna do an experiment today instead.” 

“There are like fifteen hands up,” Chuuya points out. 

“And my lovely assistant is going to help me,” Dazai continues, turning to him with a grin that is anything but reassuring. Oh fuck, what is up to? 

“And then we’ll take everyone’s questions,” Chuuya adds. 

“If we have time.” 

Fucking asshole!

“Come, come, Mr. Nakahara, to the front,” Dazai says, enthusiastically ushering him to the space between their desks and the first row of seats. It puts him in an awkward position, and Dazai knows that Chuuya’s options are limited in front of their captive audience. 

Chuuya sighs and gets up, standing where Dazai shows him to stand. Once he’s in position, Dazai leans in real close, and whispers only loud enough for Chuuya to hear.

“This is the idea you gave me the other night.” 

Chuuya immediately stiffens, his nostrils flaring as he holds in his anger. How dare he bring that up at a time like this?! 

Dazai saunters about twenty feet away and stops, then turns back to the class. “So this chapter was about death and morality, right?” 

Someone in the front raises their hand—a bright-eyed freshman with silver hair and a botched cut. Dazai points to him. 

“What’s your name?” Dazai asks. 

“Uh, Atsushi? I just had a question about—” 

“No questions! Put your hand down, I want you all to focus, because this is a very important experiment. It’ll teach you more than anything that’s on those boring slides, so don’t even worry about them!” 

God, Chuuya could wring this man’s neck and he wouldn’t be questioning any of his own morals! 

“Last week, we talked about how death is generally accepted as inevitable, that everyone is more or less aware of their own morality. You get to the end of your own life, and no one would ever consider you to be a bad person for dying, so it’s hard to apply moral principles when it comes to a natural death.” 

Chuuya wants to groan. This guy is so full of it. 

He’s got a big dick, but that's about it. 

“Chuuya, think fast!” 

He jumps, turning around just in time to see Dazai tossing a fucking knife in his direction. 

“What the fuck!” he exclaims, bolting out of the way and letting it clamor to the floor. The rest of the lecture hall gasps, and rightfully so because this lunatic just flung a knife at him! 

His damn stomach is still in his throat as he looks down at the knife, his eyes wide. 

“It’s just a kitchen knife, Chuuya, it's not going to hurt you. Just pick it up!” Dazai says, his voice far too cheerful for what he's doing. Chuuya shoots him a hardened glare before bending over to pick it up, and as he does so, students start murmuring to each other. To them, it probably seems exciting that they might finally get to witness one of Dr. Dazai's infamous stunts. 

But to Chuuya it just seems like the alpha he slept with last week just flung a fucking knife at him. 

“Okay? Now what?” 

“Now…I want you to kill me.” 

All at once, the lecture hall goes silent. The knife suddenly feels a hundred times heavier in his hand than it did just a few seconds ago. 

“What? No!” Chuuya scoffs. 

“Why not?” Dazai asks, cocking his head to the side like he doesn't get it. He knows he's just playing devil's advocate, and the more he thinks about it, the more it's a little clearer what he's trying to prove. 

But he absolutely could have warned him!

“Because it's morally wrong to kill,” Chuuya says. 

“Sure! But I asked you to kill me, I'm consenting to my own murder.” 

“You consenting to your own murder doesn't make it okay for me to kill you. In the eyes of the law, I'd still be charged and found guilty. I'm not willing to sacrifice my own life for you to have the sweet release of death that you crave.” 

“That was beautifully said, thank you,” Dazai says, and for some reason, Chuuya's chest flutters at the sound of his praise. It's strange. Instinctual, even. 

Your alpha thinks you did a good job! 

Fuck, what—

“But suppose I consent to my own murder and you consent to murdering me…Is there anything that's actually morally wrong about two consenting adults in an ethically dubious scenario?” 

Something in Chuuya snaps at that comment. It hits too close to home and he immediately decides he's had enough of Dazai's instigating already. 

So he throws the knife down and storms the fuck out. 

Chapter Text

By the time Friday rolls around again, Chuuya is still angry. He hasn't talked to Dazai since, aside from a quick email where Dazai asked if he wanted him to bring his laptop, and Chuuya responded that he could just leave it in his cohort office.

Even as he stands outside Dazai's office door, he wears a scowl on his face. Maybe he should have cancelled, saying he came down with something last minute.

Finally, Chuuya decides to just bite the bullet and pushes the door open anyway.  Dazai's scent is still strong, but it isn't as overpowering as it was last time. And he hates that it's also mildly comforting despite the fact that he's still mad at the alpha. 

Inside, Dazai sits on the same couch they fucked on, but this time he has his laptop open. 

“I have notes for your proposal, you can sit.” 

It's stupid. 

This is exactly what he wanted to happen last time—For their meeting to be short and to the point. But there's something about the cold and indifferent way that Dazai speaks that makes Chuuya want to cry. 

“Seriously?” Chuuya scoffs. 

“Hmm?” Dazai looks up from his screen, a bored look in his eyes. “You said you wanted to talk about your thesis, so we'll talk about your thesis. Sit.” 

“You're not even going to apologize?!” 

“For what?” 

Chuuya's going to scream. He's going to grab Dazai by the collar and punch him until his nose bleeds. He's going to—Cry? 

No, wait. 

Fuck. 

Before he can stop himself, stupid, hot tears are welling up in his eyes, burning the rims. It's not fair. He doesn’t want to be some omega who cries, he's just so angry that he can't control it! 

“Don't cry,” Dazai sighs, a little less cold but still not exactly sympathetic. Not that Chuuya even wants his sympathy. 

“Well too bad. I'm fucking pissed. ” He angrily wipes at his stupid tears, probably only making his face redder than it was before. 

“Still?” 

“Why wouldn't I be? You teased me about things we said when we were knotted and threw a knife at me in front of an entire lecture hall full of people.” 

“And that's why you're crying?” he asks. 

“Fuck you, I don't have to put up with this. I'm requesting a new supervisor. Everyone else was right, you're a fucking creep,” Chuuya says. 

There's nothing he hates more than admitting he's wrong, but if that's what he has to do to get away from this, he'll gladly do it. He turns to leave the room, storming away from the alpha for the second time in less than a week. 

Before he can make it to the door, though, Dazai's moving across the room, grabbing onto Chuuya's wrist and squeezing. 

“Don't do that,” he pleads. Pleads. 

Chuuya isn't sure what he's more surprised by—Dazai's grip, or his voice. 

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It won't happen again,” Dazai says. Chuuya turns back to him, his brow still furrowed tight. 

The alpha's eyes are downcast, like he suddenly can't even meet Chuuya's. His scent sours just a bit, and it's far more striking than anything else that he can see. You can act sad, or apologetic, but no one can fake a scent like that. Cover it up, maybe. But not fake it. 

He really means it.

“If you want to do a dumb experiment like that, you should just tell me. Don't spring it on me like that, it makes me feel like an idiot.” He doesn't know why he's telling him this, because he still has the sneaking suspicion that the alpha doesn't actually care. 

“Would you have gone along with it if I warned you?” He asks, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. 

Chuuya blinks. “Maybe. Yeah. I knew what you were trying to do, but it’s hard when I have to scramble to keep up.” 

“Right. That makes sense.” Dazai sighs, like he's relieved, and his scent follows suit. And when the alpha relaxes, Chuuya starts to relax as well. The alpha’s eyes soften, and he finally lets go of Chuuya’s wrist, letting his arms drop down to his sides. 

“A-and while we’re at it, I don’t appreciate you teasing me about what happened last time. I already feel like enough of a dumbass for letting that happen, I don’t need the reminders.” 

Dazai stares for a moment, his expression mostly blank. “Got it…It was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

For reasons unknown to Chuuya, hearing Dazai call it a mistake feels like a punch to the gut. He swallows, his throat still tight. Sleeping with Dazai really was a stupid thing to do, and he knows he can’t (and shouldn’t!) expect anything else out of it. 

It was one time. 

It’ll never happen again. 

“Yeah, it was,” Chuuya confirms, even though it hurts. 

“Well…Now that we’ve cleared the air, we should talk about your proposal.” 

And they do just that. Chuuya sits on the couch with him, and Dazai gives him notes. There are more critiques than he would have liked there to be, but he appreciates the constructive feedback. And once they’ve gone over everything necessary, Chuuya just…leaves. He thanks Dr. Dazai for his time and heads out, right on time. 

It plays out exactly the way Chuuya’s been saying he wants it to play out. The alpha is courteous and professional, and their conversations never stray from what they need to talk about. Dazai doesn’t touch him at all, making sure their hands don’t even accidentally brush together. 

Like last time never even happened. 

—

Three weeks pass by. 

The next three lectures are rather dull in comparison to the first two, and Chuuya gets through his slides every single time. Sure, Dazai makes several out-of-pocket comments, but there are no more knife-throwing stunts. When they’re alone, he only talks to Chuuya if he has to, and only about course-related things. Although uneventful, everything is at least going well.

And then Chuuya gets sick. 

On a Friday. 

Usually, he's one to power through and get things done regardless of how he feels, but this one just sort of knocks him down out of nowhere. He can't get out of bed because his head is pounding, and if he moves just a little too quickly, the room starts spinning. He's already thrown up three times. (And he swears he isn't hungover.) 

He misses one of his grad classes, forced to prop up his laptop next to him in bed, fully intending to follow along virtually…

But it's late afternoon at this point, and he's finally feeling like he doesn't need to run to vomit every five minutes. He's exhausted from all of that, so he can't really help that he ends up dozing off and missing the entire thing. 

Chuuya doesn't wake up until much later, to the sound of his own phone ringing. It startles him awake, and when he shoots up to grab it, his head starts spinning all over again. Squinting at the screen, he wonders why the hell Yosano is calling him. 

“Hello?” he mumbles, falling back down against his pillows. 

“Oh, so you are alive,” She says as soon as he answers. 

“Barely. I think I have the stomach flu or food poisoning or something.” He groans as his stomach churns again, like it heard Chuuya mention it and needs to react. “I’ve been barfing all day.” 

“Oh…That’s really gross, Nakahara,” she groans. “Well, um, I’m actually calling because someone came into our cohort’s office looking for you.”

He doesn’t really like the way she skirts certain details in her explanation. Unfortunately, he has a pretty good idea of who she’s talking about, but he doesn’t really want to give her the satisfaction of being correct.

“Who?” 

“Dr. Dazai,” she says, the teasing tone in her voice blatantly obvious. “Seriously though, he seemed really worried because you didn’t show up for your meeting and no one knew where you were.”

“Oh fuck,” he groans. “I completely forgot to email him. I passed out earlier and didn’t wake up until just now. I’ll let him know.” 

“Okay, good. Again, I have literally never seen someone so distressed. He probably thinks you’re dead or something.”

“Of course he does,” Chuuya rolls his eyes. That man is so good at teaching his course because he has this strange talent for connecting literally anything back to death or suicide or murder. At the same time, he’s intrigued by the idea of Dazai being legitimately worried about him. It’s entirely possible that Yosano is overreacting because she and Junichiro have been sorely disappointed by Chuuya’s lack of dramatic updates when it comes to the alpha lately. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re not dead. Let me know if you need like, medicine or something…I’ll make Junichiro bring you some.” 

“Gee, thanks,” Chuuya scoffs. 

“Ooh better yet, I could ask Dazai to bring you some—”

“Nope! Stop, that’s not gonna happen,” Chuuya groans. “And you better not give him my address, he’s insane. ”

“I’m joking. Kind of. Anyway, I have to go, just wanted to check on you…and Junichiro says he’ll drink for you tonight when we go out.”

“Oh my god, please don’t let him do that, he’ll die.”  

Yosano just laughs and agrees with him. A few moments later, she hangs up and Chuuya moves to grab his laptop, which is still open from the lecture he’d slept through earlier. He gives it a few seconds to reboot and then logs into his email…

To find seven unread emails from Dazai. 

Chuuya stares at his inbox, wondering if this is real, or if he’s just a victim of a very specifically fucked up phishing scheme. Curious, he clicks on the first email that was sent two minutes after their scheduled meeting time. 

Subject: Meeting Time

Message: 

Good Evening Nakahara Chuuya, 

Our meeting for tonight was scheduled for 6:30 PM. Please be on time in the future and let me know if you’re going to be late. 

Best Regards, 

Dr. Dazai Osamu 

It’s oddly formal, but Chuuya isn’t surprised. He’s been stiff and awkward like that ever since the knife incident, like he’s suddenly remembering his role and trying to be professional. The next email was sent at 6:41 PM.

Subject: Reschedule

Nakahara, 

Please respond to this email and let me know if you need to cancel. It’s fine if you can’t make it, but please respect my time and reach out when you can. 

Best Regards, 

Dr. Dazai Osamu

And then at 6:47—

Subject: <No Subject>

Chuuya, is everything okay? Please write back to let me know.

Be safe. 

Dazai Osamu

Another follows at 6:50—

Subject: RE: <No Subject> 

Chuuya, you can also text me that you’re alright if that would be easier. 

You’ve never been late, so I won’t hold this against you. 

Just text me, okay? 

xxx-xxxx-xxxx

-Dazai

The next email comes through five minutes later. 

Subject: RE:RE: <No Subject> 

Was it something else I did? 

I won’t know unless you tell me. 

Please don’t do this. 

7:03 PM: 

Subject: ???/????

Chuuya I’m actually very worried, I won’t pressure you if you’re angry, but just respond to me okay? 

I just want to know that you’re okay. 

And the last one was sent at 7:31 PM, only about twenty minutes ago. 

Subject: <No Subject> 

Chuuya, it's been over an hour now. 

No one else knows where you currently are, either, but Kunikida said you couldn't make it to his class today because you were sick. 

If you're sick, please just tell me that so I don't have to worry about you. Or else I'll have no choice but to assume the worst. 

Dazai

Chuuya stares at the screen in front of him, reading the words, yet somehow still failing to fully comprehend what's going on. That Yosano clearly wasn't exaggerating—Dazai actually was very worried about him. He kind of liked the idea of the alpha showing concern, but now that he's read all the emails, he just feels bad. 

Instead of responding to the email, he enters Dazai's number into his phone so that he can text him instead. (And actively shoves away the giddy, intrusive excitement about having the alpha's phone number.)

Chuuya: Hey, this is Chuuya. I just saw your emails. I didn't mean to fall asleep before I could send you an email. 

It feels weird reaching out like this, but he rationalizes it by remembering that it's the fastest way to reassure the other man that he isn’t dead. Also, he's pretty sure Junichiro and Yosano text their supervisors when they need to—It's normal!

Totally normal. 

Moments later, he receives a reply. 

Dazai: fuuuuuuuuuucck i thought u were DEAD

Well, so much for professional and normal. That didn't last very long, did it? Chuuya sighs and shakes his head, biting at his thumb nail as he tries to think of what to say. Before he can come up with something, though, his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at his front door. 

He looks up, narrowing his eyes in the direction of the door. It can't be seen from his bedroom, of course, but he still watches his bedroom door and waits. 

If it's a package, they'll just drop it and leave. Has he ordered anything lately? Hmm. 

The knock comes again, louder this time, and Chuuya lets out a loud groan before pushing back the covers and rolling out of bed. For a moment, the room spins, but when he has a second to steady himself, everything seems to be okay. It's not as bad as it was earlier in the day. 

The person knocks a third time and Chuuya's ready to fucking fight. Or vomit on their shoes. He's not actually sure. 

Either way, he scowls and pulls the door open, ready to let this delivery guy have a piece of his mind for knocking so loud so late. 

But it isn't a delivery person. 

It's…It's fucking Dazai. 

“Wow, you really do look awful.” 

Chuuya gasps and slams the door shut. 

What the hell is he doing here?! What the fuck, what the fuck—

He knocks again, and this time Chuuya can hear him through the door. 

“Chuuya?” Dazai questions. “Chuuya—” 

He takes a deep breath and opens the door again. 

“How the hell do you know where I live?” Chuuya deadpans, only holding the door open slightly, so that Dazai doesn't think he's being invited inside. After that insane string of emails, he's a little on guard because what the fuck is Dazai up to now? 

Can't he just leave Chuuya alone? 

That being said, Dazai does smell nice. Really nice. Yeah, sure, he always smells nice but right now… Huh. That's odd. 

He breathes in again, getting another good whiff of his pheromones and he swears he's suddenly not nauseous anymore. 

“Your emergency contact info was in your file,” he explains with a shrug, as if it still isn't a little strange. 

“And you didn't think to call me before showing up at my door unannounced?” Chuuya scoffs. 

“Like I said, I thought you died, so how would you have answered the phone?” 

“How would I have answered the door?”

“Ahh, yeah, good point.” Dazai says, smiling. If he was distressed earlier, he certainly seems at ease now. Did he really just need to see Chuuya for himself that badly? When Chuuya looks at him now, all he can see is a dopey grin and big, brown, puppy-dog eyes. 

Annoying.

“Are you going to invite me in?” Dazai asks. 

“No?” Chuuya scoffs. 

“Aww, well I ran all the way over here to check on you and—” 

“And you didn’t have to do that. What happened to being professional?” Something in his head screams at him to stop talking, to stop pushing the alpha away and let him in!

“I…” Dazai trails off, his smile fading slowly. “I’m sorry, I guess I got a bit carried away. I'm glad you're okay. I'll see you—” 

“Wait,” Chuuya interjects, before he can think better of it. Dazai stares back at him, curiously waiting. 

“Hmm?” 

Is it better to send him away? Is it polite to invite him inside? 

In Chuuya's moment of indecision, his instincts take over and decide for him. 

“I’m actually feeling better since taking a nap. You can come in, I guess.” Chuuya can feel the heat rising in his cheeks. 

“Oh, thank you!” Dazai relaxes, and Chuuya steps back to let him in. He closes the door behind him and watches as Dazai looks around the apartment. 

“This must be how you felt in my office that day.”

The alpha's words leave Chuuya absolutely stunned. How did he feel that day? Suffocated? Overwhelmed by the best mix of pheromones he's ever experienced in a dose that felt nearly fatal? 

If Dazai feels even a fraction of that, Chuuya can sympathize. 

“What do you mean?” 

“It smells like you,” Dazai says, quietly. Even as he whispers, though, his words still sound so damn loud in Chuuya's ears. “It smells incredible.” 

Chuuya's chest squeezes at the alpha's words. He can't believe he's saying these things, that Dazai enjoys his scent. 

Your alpha wants you…

No! That's insane! 

“Well, it is my apartment,” Chuuya mutters. “Unlike you and your office, this is actually where I spend my heats.” 

Oh fuck, why did he say something so embarrassing?! 

“Interesting,” Dazai says, the restraint clear in his voice. Chuuya wonders what he really wants to say, the words that are truly running through his mind as they speak. 

“Do you want water?” Chuuya asks, padding into the kitchen to get a glass for himself either way. 

“Sure,” Dazai mumbles. He follows Chuuya to the kitchen—the tiny, sad excuse for a kitchen—and Chuuya can feel his heavy gaze from behind. 

When he turns to hand the first glass to Dazai, he's surprised to find that he's so close that Chuuya’s hip brushes against his thigh when he moves. “Oh, sorry, I—” 

Dazai doesn't move, though. Instead, he steps even closer, resting his hands against the counter behind Chuuya, gently caging him there. 

“Tell me to stop,” Dazai whispers, his breath tickling Chuuya's earlobe.  

He should tell Dazai to stop, and remind him of their agreement to never do this again. All he has to do is tell Dazai, and for whatever reason, Chuuya really believes that he would stop if Chuuya said so. That he'd allow himself to suffer through Chuuya's scent. 

But Chuuya doesn't say anything. 

What he does do is much worse. 

He tilts his head to the side to give himself a better angle, and presses his lips to Dazai's instead. As soon as he does, his chest buzzes with warmth and excitement, like this is somehow what his body had been craving all day. 

And Dazai doesn't seem to need much more encouragement than that. He presses into the kiss, his tongue almost immediately licking against Chuuya's lips until Chuuya parts them. The alpha's tongue is hot and wet as it slides against Chuuya's. 

The scent of cinnamon and mahogany spikes, growing noticeably thicker as Dazai actively releases his pheromones until Chuuya feels like he's floating . Heavy, needy hands find Chuuya's hips like they're pulling him back down, holding him in place before they move to the waistband of his sweatpants. 

He knows what the alpha wants. 

If he really wanted to, he could put a stop to it. Make sure it never happens again. 

But he doesn't want to. 

Chuuya falters as Dazai pushes his pants down until they're dropping to his ankles. It seems to be happening faster this time and Chuuya suddenly has the overwhelming need for an alpha's cock. (Specifically, this alpha's cock.) 

He hisses as one of Dazai's hands slip between his thighs, gently cupping his sex. Their lips part, but only so that Dazai can move on to Chuuya’s neck, dragging his lips along the sensitive part of his neck where his scent gland is. He stops there and places a firm kiss against it, right before shoving two fingers into him at once. 

“Fuck,” Chuuya chokes. 

Dazai drops to rest his forehead against Chuuya's shoulder as his fingers start to move. “You're so fucking wet. More than last time.” 

“Just fuck me,” Chuuya whines. He doesn't mean to whine, but it's the only way his words seem to be able to leave him. Like all he knows how to do is whine for his alpha. 

“You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?” Dazai murmurs, coming back up to connect their lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss. 

But gentle doesn't last very long. 

The next thing he knows, Chuuya's being lifted onto the counter and he's kicking his pants the rest of the way to the floor while Dazai works on removing his own. By the time Chuuya has his shirt up and over his head, Dazai is pushing the head of his cock against his entrance. 

Chuuya spreads his knees wider and brings his heels up to rest on the edge of the counter, watching as Dazai's girth spreads him apart. He bites back a moan as the searing member enters him with ease, stretching him open yet sliding against his walls like he was made to be there. 

“Shit , Chuuya,” he mutters, like he's barely holding it together. 

“Fuck me, alpha.” He tries to roll his hips but can't do much in this position. So, instead, he opts for egging him on instead. 

He swears he hears Dazai growl.

In another whirlwind, Dazai snaps his hips, thrusting in and out a few times before finally scooping Chuuya off of the counter altogether. Chuuya yelps and throws his arms and legs around the alpha, clinging to him so he won't fall. 

“I've got you,” Dazai whispers in his ear, like he can hear Chuuya's thoughts.

When he walks, he can feel his cock move inside of him with every step he takes. He gets to Chuuya's bedroom and doesn't stop until they're both toppling over onto his bed. 

It's clumsy and stupid, but after all that effort to get to the bed, Dazai slips out as soon as they hit the mattress. Before he can think too much about it, he shoves Dazai down onto his back and straddles his hips. 

The alpha below him gasps, but then softens when he realizes what Chuuya's doing. He smiles.

“What?” 

“Nothing, it's just a nice view.” 

Chuuya can feel his cheeks burn, and he decides to turn his attention to grabbing the alpha's length and guiding it between his legs. As he slides down and sheathes himself over it, he looks down, pleased by the way Dazai's eyelids flutter and he suppresses a moan. 

You're making your alpha feel so good…

Fuck. 

He moves his hips faster, focused on keeping a steady rhythm and getting him off, because his brain is clearly not going to be doing him any favors if he slows down for even a second. 

Dazai's slender fingers find Chuuya’s cock, gently massaging it and effectively ruining the rhythm he'd established. 

“Shit,” he breathes, letting out an embarrassing moan as Dazai rolls his hips and works him closer and closer to the edge. “ Shit.”

“That’s right…Cum for me, Chuuya.” His voice is so low and breathy, making it clear that he’s getting close himself.

Chuuya lets out one final moan and sees white, his cocklet twitching and throbbing between Dazai’s fingers. He stumbles, gripping tightly onto Dazai’s arms as wave after wave of pleasure rolls throughout his entire body. Before he’s fully come down from that high, Dazai rolls him onto his side and hikes Chuuya’s top leg over his hip, giving him a better angle to keep thrusting into Chuuya’s spent pussy. 

“Fuck, Chuuya, you’re sucking me in like this…Can I—”

“Yes,”  Chuuya chokes, knowing what he’s about to ask. Can I cum inside? The correct answer should have been no, or fuck, we forgot a fucking condom AGAIN…

But Chuuya wants it. He wants to feel every pulse and twitch as Dazai empties himself, filling his womb with his hot, thick seed… One more thrust is all it takes before the alpha’s knot catches and he stills inside, granting Chuuya’s omega its desperate wish. 

Chuuya squeezes his eyes shut and wraps his arms tight around Dazai’s shoulders, clinging to him as he’s suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation. 

He’s had guys cum inside him before, and it’s never really done much for him. If anything, it just makes a mess and no matter what he does, he ends up with cum dripping all down his legs. But there’s something so unbelievably addictive about the way it feels when Dazai does it. It’s instinctual, like every one of his carnal desires is being met in one, singular instance. It warms him from the inside out. 

Dazai relaxes, nuzzling into Chuuya’s shoulder a bit before laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Chuuya asks. Now that they’ve stopped, it’s a little cold just laying there without any clothes on, so he reaches around to pull his bed covers over both of them. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Dazai says, his voice airy and light. “I promise I was serious about not sleeping with you again.” 

“Yeah? So was I,” Chuuya sighs. Dazai pulls his head back just a bit so he they’re face-to-face. The alpha’s cheeks are flushed from their activities, his pupils still slightly dilated. 

“Instincts are so interesting, aren’t they?” 

“I guess.” 

Brown eyes flicker down to his lips, and Chuuya wonders if he’s going to be kissed again, or if Dazai will propose going for another round. 

“If you think about it…It’s true that we shouldn’t be doing this,” Dazai continues, and Chuuya’s ready to tell him to shut up and talk about this when they aren’t still tied together. “But it’s also true that the sex is good, and satisfies a biological need.” 

“What are you getting at?” Chuuya sighs. 

“I want to propose something, but only if you’re okay with it.” 

“Hmm?” 

“We maintain a professional relationship… and continue to have sex.” Dazai suggests. “No one has to know.”

Chuuya stares at him. “Yosano and Junichiro know.” 

Dazai’s lips snap shut and his eyes go wide.

“They won’t tell anyone, I promise,” Chuuya insists. “And I can make it so they think it was only a one time thing. They definitely don’t have to know about this.”  

“While I suppose I could make a case for myself if we were found out, I’d rather not have to deal with that kind of a headache.” Dazai doesn’t sound mad, but he doesn’t sound thrilled, either. “Who the heck are those people anyway?” 

“They’re in my graduate cohort,” Chuuya tells him. 

“Right, because you’re a grad student. Ah, jeez,” Dazai groans, moving back in to press his face into Chuuya’s neck. He sounds like he’s just teasing, but it does remind Chuuya of something. 

“How old are you, anyway?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“I'm curious…and actually, yes it matters!” 

“I should be more worried about your age,” Dazai scoffs. 

“I’m twenty- five,” Chuuya grits. 

“Oh, older than I thought. I’m twenty-nine,” Dazai finally admits. 

“And you’re a doctor?”

“I graduated early,” Dazai hums, clearly amused by Chuuya’s observation and interpreting it as praise. “What, did you think I was older?” 

“I mean…you don’t look older, but still. That’s crazy. You’re not even thirty and you have multiple degrees and you wrote a book—”

“Please, Chuuya, you’re gonna give me a big head.” 

Chuuya frowns when he realizes that he really has been doling out too much praise to the alpha. Fine, he’ll keep his compliments to himself then. 

“Whatever, I’ll never say anything nice to you again.” 

“Noo, Chuuya…”

“Nope, sorry, you had your chance.” 

“That's fine, I deserved that… Oh, you never answered me.” 

Chuuya swallows.

“Yeah, I'm fine with that.” 

Dazai doesn't say anything in response, just squeezes his arms tighter around Chuuya's waist before adding, “You still smell so good, you know?” 

“Don't be weird.” 

“I'm serious! You smell so good now, I can't imagine what it must be like when you're in heat.” 

All of a sudden, Chuuya isn't smiling anymore. It's not because of Dazai, no, but it is because of what he said. 

Because it didn't hit him until that exact moment…

…that his heat was supposed to start two days ago. 

Chapter Text

Despite his horrifying realization, Chuuya can’t bring himself to do anything about it. He’s not stupid; he knows what it means. When he’s had unprotected sex with an alpha he’s compatible with, and then misses his heat…

Well, there’s only one explanation for that. 

Actually, it’s possible that he’s stressed or his hormones are just out of whack because of Dazai. Things happen sometimes…and he could really very easily clear everything up with a simple trip to the pharmacy to buy a test. But for some reason he just can’t.  

In the back of his mind, he’s pretty sure he knows what the result is going to be, and he’s not ready for that damning confirmation just yet. He would have more hope for himself if it weren’t for the fact that he had been so nauseous until getting scented by Dazai. The alpha who—

Ahh, no, no.  

The next time he sees Dazai is at his next lecture. That morning, he’s back to feeling nauseous and dizzy, but it’s more manageable than before. He can’t afford to miss another day or make Dazai think he died again, so he pops a peppermint and does his best to power through. 

That and…if he goes to the lecture, he can more or less confirm his situation without a stupid pregnancy test. 

Of course, though, today happens to be another one where Dazai is running late. Chuuya has half a mind to text him and ask him if he’s dead, but thinks better of it. That would definitely be a little too friendly for what they’re supposed to be. In class and during meetings, or actually any time they aren’t fucking, they’re supposed to act like nothing more than a Professor and his Assistant normally would. They aren’t in a relationship; they aren’t even really friends. 

“Hey, Mr. Nakahara, can I ask you a question?” Chuuya looks up at the student who’s addressing him, one he recognizes as Atsushi. He never knows the answers to any questions, and has one of the lowest grades in the class already, but Dazai literally always calls on him. Knowing Dazai, he probably does it on purpose, too. 

“Just call me Chuuya, I don’t care,” he sighs. “What do you need?” 

“So I know our unit assessment is due tomorrow morning, but I’m having a little trouble with studying,” he explains. “A-and the syllabus says you have office hours tonight, so I was wondering if I could come by to get help.” 

“Yeah, just send me an email to remind me,” Chuuya says, even though he’d rather stick needles in his eyes than explain basic concepts to a clueless idiot. 

“Really? Thank you so much!” Atsushi gushes, as if he’s doing him a favor. (He’s not; he’s just doing his damn job.) Actually…Atsushi might unknowingly be doing Chuuya a favor, because it might be a good distraction from his current predicament. 

“Yeah, whatever, just don’t be late.” 

Atsushi promises that he won’t, but Chuuya’s already stopped paying attention to what he’s saying because Dazai is here now and suddenly he can’t focus on anything else. Thankfully Atsushi seems to be done talking anyway, because he quickly heads back to his seat. 

“Hey, Chuuya,” Dazai greets, cool and casual. From where he’s standing, though, Chuuya unfortunately can’t get enough of his scent to see if it helps his symptoms at all.  

“Hey,” Chuuya returns, without making eye contact. Dazai plays his part well, and doesn't say anything else. Instead, he just starts with his lecture. 

With the unit assessment being due tomorrow, the lecture is more of a review of materials. Chuuya half expects Dazai to have some sort of bullshit excuse for a test, but it's all based on the chapters in his book. And Chuuya happens to be in on the fact that every question he asks during his lecture is word-for-word what will be asked on the assessment. 

“Why do it that way? Why not just tell them what chapters to study?” 

“Because I think it's a fun way to find out who pays attention and who doesn't!” 

Chuuya sighs at the recent memory, and glances over at the alpha again. He's standing on his desk while he talks, which is so ridiculous but also very typical for him. 

Even though Chuuya is slowly getting used to the other man and his strange ways, he still feels like a stranger at times. The closest he's gotten to learning anything personal about Dazai is when he shared his age and that he had graduated early. 

But the more he thinks about it, the more it makes things even more confusing. What fucking business does he have being an expert in the field of Death and Dying at such a young age? Chuuya can't tell if it's impressive, or if it's depressing. 

Still, Chuuya is apparently a sucker for hot guys, and this one happens to be hot and mysterious.  He frowns, narrowing his eyes in Dazai's direction while he carries on. Today, he seems to be in a good mood, carrying on in a way that's carefree and charming, yet also slightly annoying. 

God, he's so annoying. 

He can be funny sometimes, but mostly Chuuya is pretty sure he hates everything he says unless they're having sex. 

The students seem to really like him, though. Just by quickly looking into the audience, he can tell that every single person is fully enamored with him. He's charismatic and interesting, which is why there are always wait lists for his courses.

And that's the father of—

Chuuya stops himself, his stomach lurching again. He does his best not to react, pressing his lips together into a firm line until he can discreetly slip another peppermint into his mouth. Just as he does, though, Dazai happens to jump from the top of his desk and turns towards him. He doesn't say or do anything, but they make eye contact for a fraction of a second and it has Chuuya wondering if he knows. 

Oh, that would fuck everything up, wouldn't it? 

Mostly because Chuuya hasn't even figured it out for himself, let alone had time to process what it means or what he's gonna do about it! 

“So, I'm actually going to give you all the gift of time and end class here today. That should give you more time to study if you need it, but you really shouldn't need it.” Chuuya freezes as soon as he hears Dazai's announcement. Was that planned? Is he ending class because he somehow knows Chuuya's secret that even Chuuya doesn't know about? 

Fuck. 

“Is everything okay?” Chuuya asks, while the students leave the lecture hall en masse. “I didn't know we were ending early today.” 

“No everything's just fine,” Dazai says. “Though you look like you may be feeling a little under the weather again. You should really see a doctor.” 

Oh he's right about that at least.  

“Maybe,” Chuuya grits. Is there any way to ask Dazai to come closer without sounding inappropriate? Sure, they agreed that they could keep having sex, but in order for it to work they have to be able to draw a very firm line. 

“Should we make a bet?” Dazai asks, changing the subject quickly. 

“About what?”

“How many students will fail the assessment? Closest to the actual number without going over wins,” he proposes. “I think seventy one.”

“Shouldn't you want them to pass? Won't that make you look bad if half your students fail the first assessment?” Chuuya raises an eyebrow. 

“Nope, doesn't matter, I have tenure,” he chuckles. 

“You're literally the worst teacher,” Chuuya sighs, shaking his head. 

“Well that doesn't bother me because I hate teaching.” 

“Then why do you do it?”

“What else would I do? There aren’t many jobs out there looking for my specific qualifications.” Dazai shrugs. 

“True,” Chuuya mutters. 

“So what will your bet be?” Dazai asks, his eyes shining. 

“No way, I'm not betting on that,” Chuuya scoffs. “Sounds unprofessional to me.” 

“Aww, Chuuya, you're no fun at all,” Dazai says, pretending to look all sad and dejected. Chuuya rolls his eyes.  

“Fine, you wanna bet? How about this—If Atsushi passes the test, then I win. If he fails, then you win,” Chuuya suggests. “He's coming to my office hours for help, so it'll be on me whether or not he passes. And he will pass.” 

“Are you sure? That kid's sweet, but he's kind of dumb,” Dazai sighs. 

“Again— Worst teacher ever,” Chuuya teases. He catches the way Dazais smirks at that, and his heart squeezes. “But, yeah, I'm sure.” 

“Sweet, what's the prize when I win?”

“You mean if.” Chuuya sighs and looks out at the now-empty auditorium seats as he thinks. His first instinct is to say something immature like Hey, if you win, I'll give you a blow job. 

“Any ideas?” 

“Well…I really don't think my ideas are appropriate to discuss here,” Chuuya finally says. 

“Jeez, Chuuya, I was just gonna say I'd owe you a coffee or something,” Dazai says. They may not know each other well, but Chuuya is starting to learn. 

Like how he knows that when Dazai smiles, he doesn't always do it with his mouth. When he's joking around and trying to get a rise out of Chuuya, his lips stay together as the corners twitch, like he's actively holding back. That's not where the source of his smile is, though. All the joy and sparkle in his eyes makes it clear that he's having fun. 

He's so…. mischievous. 

Like a little kid that pushes others on the playground just to see how the adults will react. He can be cute, sure, but he's still a little terrifying. 

“Whatever,” Chuuya sighs, shaking his head as he starts to pack up his things. 

“Speaking of which, now that you have some free time…” Dazai trails off, that mischievous grin still plastered on his face as he swings his bag over one shoulder. “We could go to my office and speak privately.”

Chuuya stares at him for a moment, struck by the irony of the situation. The whole reason that he’s probably…you know—ugh…is because of doing stupid things like this with Dazai. But maybe Dazai was right; maybe Chuuya is a little stupid. 

“Sure,” Chuuya smirks. “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.” 

—

When Dazai had first learned that the university would be forcing him to supervise a grad student this year, he had told the department chair to his face that he'd rather be doused in gasoline and set on fire. The last thing he wanted was to have some know-it-all graduate to look after. 

When he was looking through each candidate's portfolio, he didn't even bother with resumes or research papers. He picked Chuuya's file because he was wearing a stupid hat in his student ID photo, and Dazai thought it was hilarious. 

In hindsight, Dazai should have spent a little more time looking at his file. If he had, maybe he would have noticed something that would have warned him of the danger ahead. 

That danger being the fact that Chuuya is a sweet-smelling omega with a cute face and a bad attitude—A deadly combination that Dazai didn't even know he'd be so weak for. 

But in all seriousness, he wanted Chuuya to quit. It would have been so entertaining to see how far he could push the omega before he quit, thus relieving Dazai of his supervising responsibilities. He definitely had no intention of fucking him once, let alone three times now. 

When he lays back down on the couch in his office, the cushions still smell like the omega. Sweet, without being sickening, warm in a way that's weirdly comforting. Dazai's never been too interested in actually pursuing an omega (too much work!) but this one… 

A knock at the door suddenly interrupts him from his thoughts and he lets out a wistful sigh. “It's open!”

The door swings open and Dazai smirks when he sees that it's Kunikida—One of his beta colleagues that probably has no clue how much it reeks of sex in his tiny, musty, little office. It's even more amusing that he chooses to stand in the exact spot where Chuuya had dropped to his knees to suck Dazai's dick not even an hour ago. 

“I need you to talk to your candidate,” Kunikida says, getting straight to the point. He's a real stickler for the rules—definitely not the kind of person who'd sleep with a grad student.  

“About?” 

“About his essays,” Kunikida says, with a little more frustration. Dazai sits up and rests his elbows against his knees. 

“What about his essays? Isn't that your job? It's not like he's in my class,” Dazai shrugs. One of the many points he's used to validate their situation in his head—That technically he isn't one of Dazai's students. “Wait, is he failing?” 

“No, he's not failing …yet. But he seems to be under the impression that he can write about whatever he wants and get away with it,” Kunikida explains, with grave frustration. 

“Please, tell me more.” 

“This is what he turned in yesterday.” 

Dazai gleefully snatches the binder-clipped stack of papers from the other man, his lips unable to hide his amusement when he reads the title. 

Quantifying a “Fuck Ton” and Other Non-Standard Units of Measurment

“Oh my god,” Dazai chokes, as he bursts into an unexpected fit of laughter. When was the last time he's laughed like that? “What are you talking about, that's great!” 

“It's highly unprofessional to use profanity in a paper of this level. As his supervisor, you should be mentoring him in the field of academia and setting an example.” Kunikida starts lecturing and boy is he lucky that he does not know the half of it. 

“Well, what's the paper about?” Dazai asks, beginning to flip through it. From what he can gather, it's a think piece about why and how people can generally agree on units of measurement that aren’t actually measurable. 

“It's…” Kunikida trails off and Dazai looks up from the paper, giving him a knowing grin. “That's not the point—He should not use the word fuck in a graduate level essay.” 

“I disagree, I think it's funny,” Dazai challenges. “Also your course is literally about stuff that's made up, why are you complaining about a student making things up?” 

“It's called Abstract Thinking and Non-Existence—” 

“So literally a course about things that don't exist. I think Chuuya did a great job,” Dazai says. “Actually, academia would be a lot more interesting if more people used the word fuck in their dissertations. Wait—I'm gonna start giving extra credit for anyone that can use the word fuck in an essay.” 

“I don't know why I thought I should bother talking to you about this. Either way, he's not getting full credit unless he changes the title.” Kunikida says his piece with finality before announcing his exit and all but slamming the door behind him on his way out.

As soon as he's gone, he takes out his phone and shoots a quick message to Chuuya. 

Dazai: stop using bad words in your essays!! Kunikida is so mad!!!

He smirks at the message, but then his smile slowly fades as he starts to really think about the situation. It would be more fun to be able to text Chuuya and tease him if they weren't in their current predicament. Because as much as he tries to skirt it, he does have a certain level of responsibility towards the omega. 

This fact caused him to completely spiral after the first time they had sex—As soon as Chuuya had left, Dazai just couldn’t shake the sudden, overwhelming wave of guilt that had come over him. He went back and forth about it in his head for days. Was it morally correct? Ethical? He weighed every pro, every con, and it wasn’t until he finally passed out after two nights’ of absolutely no sleep. 

After that, he got a new wave of misplaced confidence—Which is how they ended up with the whole knife debacle. And okay, he can at least admit that maybe it was a little over the top, but it still felt shitty to be outright rejected by the omega like that. 

Instincts are so stupid.  

They make him think that he’s somehow laid claim to another human being. Aside from that being totally unethical and problematic, he’s not even in a relationship with him that would be considered committed in the slightest. 

He smells nice. 

They have sex. 

That’s it.

Dazai wonders if Chuuya knows that he’s the sane one in this situation. Because Dazai is definitely not. His life is very quickly being ruined by thoughts of Chuuya and his cute butt. 

Chuuya: fuck off! 

Dazai chuckles at the message that comes through. He can practically hear Chuuya through his message. His nostrils are probably flared, his eyebrow twitching, all ready to fight over one little comment. And that thought alone makes Dazai realize that he can go and mess with him even more if he wants to! This is about school work, so it wouldn’t be considered that inappropriate. (Also Kunikida made him do it, if anyone asks!)

With a newfound burst of energy, he gets up off of the couch and strolls out of his office. All he has to do is head downstairs and pop into Chuuya's cohort room and embarrass him in front of all of his friends. 

But as soon as he reaches the cohort room, he's disappointed to find that Chuuya is nowhere to be seen, and his desk is empty. Most of the room is quiet, with the few other grad students zoned in and working on their own studies. One of them—A girl he vaguely remembers talking to last time he was in here—looks up from her laptop and pulls her headphones down to sit around her neck. 

“Are you looking for Nakahara again?” she asks, and he doesn't like the way she adds again. Partially because her tone is a little rude… and partially because he suddenly remembers that this girl is one of the people Chuuya told about their uh, situation. 

“Yeah, I need to talk to him about an essay,” Dazai sighs, then suddenly straightens out, realizing that she might think he's lying. “This essay right here, see?” 

Ha! He has proof of a legitimate and perfectly professional reason to see Chuuya! 

“Oh he’s not here.” 

“I can see that. When will he be back?” Dazai should just cut his losses and head back to his own office. 

“Uh, I don't really know if he'll be back today. He said he had something to do and seemed like he was in a rush,” she explains. “Do you want me to pass a message along to him for you?” 

“No that's okay, I can just te—Send him an email,” Dazai smiles. “Thanks for your help!” 

She gives him a polite smile in return before putting her headphones back on. With a disappointed sigh, he grudges back down the hallway, looking down at the stack of essay papers in his hands. 

It's ridiculous to feel disappointed by something so trivial. Hell, he already spent time with the guy today! As far as what Dazai's used to, he should be perfectly content with locking himself away and not being the least bit interested in anyone else. 

Dazai really doesn't believe in fate. He believes that humans make choices that lead them down their paths in life—A path that anyone could willingly end at any point if they really wanted to. Research says that fated pairs are a real phenomenon, but it feels so foreign. 

Or, at least it did until he met Chuuya. And now he feels so inexplicably drawn to the other man. He's pretty, he's interesting, he's smart… Is he eating enough? Did he get a good nights’ sleep? Is he safe?

The more time he spends around Chuuya, the crazier his thoughts get. He wishes there was a valid explanation for that, but for now it seems like it's all in his head. If he supposedly has free will, then why the hell has he been choosing such insane thoughts and reckless behaviors? Lately, no matter how hard he tries, every decision he tries to make on his own leads him back to Chuuya.

And if questioning his own long-held beliefs about the way the world works isn’t bad enough, it gets worse.

Because he's also pretty sure that all of his feelings are one-sided. That's why he's promised himself that he'll give the pretty, red-headed omega his space. He won’t push him unless he seems willing, he won’t show up at his door unannounced anymore…

One day, Chuuya's bound to find someone better suited for him anyway. 

Chapter Text

Chuuya gets Dazai’s text while he’s standing in an aisle of an off-campus convenience store, trying to build up the courage to enter the aisle he actually needs. He had been so sure of himself walking in here, ready to just confirm the worst and get it over with; but now he’s basically frozen in place. 

Dazai: stop using bad words in your essays!! Kunikida is so mad!!!

It’s like the universe is laughing at him. He’s already embarrassingly nervous to buy a pregnancy test, and the stupid alpha that got him here in the first place just has to text him a reminder that said alpha is also his supervisor! Fuck.  

The fuck is he going to do if the test is positive? 

Dazai would probably laugh in his face. 

He’d come up with some bullshit reason for the baby not being his responsibility…or he’d send him detailed thought experiments that philosophically weigh the pros and cons of abortion. It’s not like Chuuya is against that—people can do whatever they want! But he’s always personally felt like he wouldn’t do it unless absolutely necessary…Maybe he’s a masochist, but this situation kind of feels like it definitely could have been prevented. 

If he hadn’t fucked up and made the decision to let Dazai cum inside (multiple times!) without a condom, then they wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. And, while it’s a shitty situation, it wouldn’t completely ruin his life to have a baby—He lives on his own, the university has a daycare…he could make it work even if Dazai wasn’t a part of any of it. 

That…and Chuuya has always kind of wanted kids one day anyway. 

Dazai mentioned that this was fate—that they’re a fated pair. Chuuya just isn’t sure he fully believes that. At his core, he really thinks that he could have made the decision to leave at any time, that he could have avoided having sex with him. It’s just that his instinctual pull influenced his decision, and for reasons unknown to him, he actually really wanted to have sex with Dazai. 

With an annoyed huff, he quickly tells Dazai to fuck off via text and then makes the decision (of his own free will!) to march forward and into the family planning aisle. 

And then he’s back to panicking because why the hell are there so many options? 

Early Detection - Up to a week before your first missed heat!

Digital! Accurate results! 

Value pack - 2+1= 3!

It’s worse than fucking toilet paper math. 

“Can I help you find something?” An elderly woman with a name tag asks him. He jumps slightly, not even noticing that she had approached him. He tenses, ready to tell the lady off and get her to leave him the fuck alone…But then he sees that she has a kind smile and she’s also much smaller than even Chuuya is. He shouldn’t take it out on her. (See? He can make rational decisions.)

“Um, which one’s the best?” he asks, nodding towards the damned pregnancy tests. She smiles sweetly, blissfully unaware of his actual situation. 

“Lets see…Is your heat late?” she asks. 

His face gets all hot at the embarrassing questions, but he just nods. “Four days now.” 

“I see, I see,” she nods. “I would recommend this one…This brand was around when I had my own kids long ago—They’re probably older than you now!” 

“You trust it?” 

“Of course, of course.” She’s very calm, like talking about babies and shit is normal for her. 

“What do I do if it’s positive, just…Do I go to the ER or something?” he asks, which he realizes is a stupid question as soon as it leaves his mouth. To be fair, he’s really not familiar with any of this. Even though he’s aware of his own biology, it’s not like he’s ever been pregnant before—Hell, he hasn’t even really been around anyone who was.

“Oh, no, not to worry! All you have to do is call your doctor and let them know. They’ll tell you what to do,” she says. “Of course, you’ll have to think of a special way to tell your mate!” 

Chuuya’s smile falters a bit, a weird pang of sadness in his chest. 

He definitely wouldn’t be happy to hear about this…

“Thank you for your help,” Chuuya finally says, taking two boxes of the brand she’d recommended. 

He pays her at the register and double-bags his order to make sure it’s fully concealed before he ends up leaving the store. The packages are feather-light, but the bag feels heavy in his hand as he walks back towards his apartment. It’s an ever-present sense of doom that’s getting thicker and thicker the longer it goes on. 

Once he returns, his apartment somehow feels quieter and emptier than usual. Like everything has quieted around him so that he can really feel every bit of shame while he pisses on a stick. 

That's what he does as soon as he gets there—drops everything else at the door and heads straight for the bathroom. He figured he'd get two so that if the first one was negative, he could take another to really be sure. 

The test is easy enough. He just pees on the thing and caps it, then sits on the edge of the bathtub and waits. As he does, his phone vibrates in his hand with another text, this time from Yosano.

Yosano: Dazai was looking for you… 

Chuuya sighs. 

Chuuya: so what? 

Yosano: he seemed reeeeeaaally disappointed when I told him you left for the day :) 

Chuuya: Doubt it - I already talked to him today

Yosano: “talked” 

Chuuya: I told you that was a one time thing!! Stop reading into it! 

The timer he'd set on his phone suddenly goes off, interrupting his conversation with Yosano. Or, less that it interrupted them and more that he suddenly can't concentrate on anything else. He stares at the test on the counter, just out of reach, angled away so that he can't see the little window that holds his fate. 

He's got to do it. 

What the fuck is he so afraid of? 

With another deep breath, he gets up and takes the little stick in his hands. 

And—

Well. 

Fuck. 

In the window, clear as day, is a little blue plus sign. It isn't even light or questionable, it's bold, bright, in his face— As if to say “Bitch, you're pregnant pregnant.” 

He doesn't have much of a reaction at first—On some level, he knew this would be the result. It would be much stranger if he wasn't pregnant, honestly. 

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, I guess,” Chuuya mutters to himself before letting out a long sigh. 

Just to be sure, he takes the other test out of the box and goes through all the steps with that one, too. This time, he stares at it the entire time, watching expressionless as the plus sign slowly materializes. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself after a while. He's not sure how long he's been standing there, but his entire world seems to be moving in slow motion. 

After discarding the trash, Chuuya takes the two positive tests with him to find a plastic bag to seal them in—He's not sure why, but he just feels like he should be saving them. Just in case. (For what , he has no clue.) 

If only he'd told Atsushi to fuck off when he asked about office hours. Because he'd much rather have stayed home and sulked in his bedroom. But instead, he ends up having to make the trek back onto campus so that he can wait for that dumbass to meet him. 

The rest of the cohort room is empty by now, and it's so quiet that Chuuya can hear Atsushi coming before he awkwardly knocks against the already-open door. 

“It's open, obviously,” he mutters. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry—Is this a bad time?” he asks, clearly noticing Chuuya's sour mood. 

“Nope, this is when I said you could come by,” Chuuya sighs. He turns in his chair and gestures to the empty seat at the desk next to his. 

Atsushi’s so painfully awkward, with the way he scrambles over and then straightens out in his seat like he thinks Chuuya might quiz him on his posture. 

“You can relax, you know. I'm not gonna bite you.” 

“I know, I just—I'm really nervous for this test and I've never failed anything before,” he explains, sounding genuinely distressed. Chuuya glances at him for a moment, his eyes falling to the double-layered scent patches covering half his neck. He must be an omega…

Not that all omegas wear scent patches. Chuuya prefers blockers and a collar; those adhesive patches are stronger, yeah, but they're also suffocating. Alphas could ( should) wear scent patches or blockers, but it's a rare sight to see. 

“What don't you understand?” Chuuya asks. 

“Um…” he trails off and looks down into his lap. 

So much for winning that bet against Dazai—This guy clearly has no idea what's going on.  

“What have you been doing to study?” 

“Well, I wrote down the questions Dr. Dazai asked during class today but I didn't know the answer to any of them,” he admits, looking mildly embarrassed. Chuuya waits as he pulls a notebook out of his backpack and flips it open to the right page. “Before that, I just highlighted all the things in the book that I didn't understand…But then I ended up highlighting most of the chapter so—None of this makes any sense, you know?” 

Chuuya grins. “Oh, I know. Trust me. But if you wrote all the questions, you'll be in good shape.” 

“Really?” He looks up again, eyes wide. He looks so hopeful and it makes Chuuya feel some strange emotion that he can't quite pinpoint. It's not jealousy or concern or disgust… It’s either a combination of all three, or it's the opposite of that combination. 

Chuuya clears his throat. 

“Yeah, he was just reading all of the questions on the test verbatim.” 

“Wait, really?” He gasps, flipping back and forth through the pages. “So I just need to figure out how to answer the open ended questions really…” 

“Easy,” Chuuya says. “Even if you're wrong, all you gotta do is make it sound like you're right.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I don't know, like…Philosophy is all about thinking and shit. As long as you can apply the right concepts to your argument, it's fine,” Chuuya explains, which earns him a small smile from the kid. (Well, he's not a kid, but whatever.) 

It gives Chuuya a weird sense of accomplishment, and an even stranger thought crosses his mind: 

Maybe I won't be such a bad mother after all… 

Which is stupid because he never thought he'd be bad at being a mom—He'd be a fucking great mom. It's also stupid because Atsushi is a 20-something-year-old college kid, not a dumb baby. 

“How about this one— Explain whether or not death is something to be feared in Socratic terms.” Atsushi finishes reading the question and frowns. “What's a Socratic term?” 

“Oh, for fuck's sake—” Chuuya stops himself for a moment. He thought he could be patient, but that was clearly short-lived. “Like Socrates! What the hell would Socrates think?” 

“How am I supposed to know what Socrates thinks?” 

Chuuya twitches, resisting the urge to smack the guy. He won't, he—

A certain scent suddenly hits his nose, and Chuuya immediately looks up, his eyes wide when fucking Dazai appears in the doorway. What the fuck is he still doing here?! 

“Patience, Chuuya,” Dazai hums, clearly having overheard their conversation. There's that annoying sparkle in his eye. He's fucking loving this! 

But he's honestly the last person Chuuya wants to see right now. One, he doesn't need Dazai micro-managing his office hours, and for another—Well, he only just found out he's pregnant with this man's child. He needs time to process! Fuck. 

“Oh! Dr. Dazai!” Atsushi says, startled by his sudden appearance. 

“You can leave, we're busy,” Chuuya insists, narrowing his eyes at the alpha. He watches as Dazai purses his lips, clearly holding back his thoughts. 

“Oh, Chuuya, you wound me,” Dazai sighs. “Fine, I'll leave you guys to it. But Atsushi…” 

“Yes?” 

“Don't let him get to you—He's already in trouble for using profanity in his essays.” 

“God, fucking leave!” Chuuya shouts, picking up a pencil and flinging it in his direction. 

Dazai laughs like a damn maniac. (Unfortunately, doesn't even have to dodge because Chuuya misses completely.) 

“Okay, okay! Just stopped by to say hello…See you Friday,” he says with one last grin. Chuuya rolls his eyes, unable to bring himself to actually say goodbye to him. It's only because he caught him off guard that he was so flustered! If he had any sort of warning, maybe he would have been less defensive. 

Maybe. 

Atsushi is uncomfortably silent until several moments after Dazai leaves. He looks between Chuuya and the door several times before he finally says something. 

“He’s kinda scary, isn't he?” Atsushi asks in a quiet voice. 

“More like crazy, but sure,” Chuuya says. 

“Is it hard to work with him?” 

At first, Chuuya wants to make a sarcastic comment—And he almost does— But then something suddenly hits him. 

How the fuck is he gonna keep doing this TA shit when he's pregnant? It's probably better that Dazai doesn't find out…even though he probably will…Fuck. 

“It's fine. Back to Socrates.” 

“Oh, right,” Atsushi straightens up again, like he's reminding himself to be professional. And that pisses Chuuya off even more. Because why can this stupid kid act professional but Chuuya can't? 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“Are you okay?” Atsushi asks in a small voice. 

“It's none of your damn business,” Chuuya snaps. 

“Right! Sorry. I'm sorry—Ah, Socrates is…Um,” he trails off again and Chuuya wants to scream. 

“Immortality of the soul. He viewed death as a natural part of life, and that one shouldn't fear death as a result. It's—” 

“Either a dreamless sleep or a journey to another place!” he suddenly exclaims. His eyes are wide with excitement. 

So maybe there is some hope for this kid after all. 

“Yeah, exactly. So you do know the answer to this. I know the way this shit is worded is like…needlessly complex. But ironically, it's easy to lose sight of the point if you let yourself get caught up in the details.” 

“That makes a lot of sense actually,” Atsushi says, nodding eagerly. “It's still really confusing, but I think I'm starting to get it.” 

“Yeah? Well, good.” 

He goes through his notes page by page, asking Chuuya different questions over the next half hour. The kid seems really interested in the subject, but pretty bad at remembering any of the actual concepts. (Concepts he should have learned in his intro class, but whatever.) He literally has all of the answers written out for him, but he also somehow thought Aristotle was a place in Europe. 

So Chuuya honestly has no clue whether or not he'll bomb the test.

At least, not until a few days later when he enters Dazai's office for their weekly meeting. He opens the door, and is immediately greeted by a version of Dazai that is far too excited to be good news. 

“Guess who failed!!” Dazai exclaims, holding his arms out wide. 

“You've got to be kidding me! I spent over an hour with him—” Chuuya groans, rubbing his finger tips against his temples. “This is so fucked up.” 

“But you agreed!”

“It was open book—” 

“There's no use dwelling on the past, now is there?” Dazai grins. 

Chuuya crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a tired sigh. “Fine, what do you want?” 

In his head, he's already mentally preparing himself for dropping to his knees and taking Dazai's cock into his mouth. 

“I want you to have a drink with me.” 

Chuuya's jaw drops at the request—Not because it’s so crazy or ridiculous, but because it just happens to be one of the few things he absolutely cannot do. What's worse is that he can’t even explain why. 

“That's—Can't you choose something else? That hardly seems appropriate. What happened to boundaries?” He scowls defiantly and shoves his hands into his pockets. 

“I don't think it's inappropriate,” Dazai shrugs. “I've seen other faculty treating their TAs to drinks before—We're all adults aren't we?” 

Chuuya groans. “Well, sorry, I already have plans to get drinks with a couple of friends tonight. You'll have to choose something else.” 

“You have friends?” 

“The hell is that supposed to mean?! Of course I have friends!” he scoffs, mildly offended by the smug grin that Dazai wears. What the hell is his deal?

“Oh, nothing, nothing, it's just that you're so warm and fuzzy—” Dazai laughs as Chuuya pushes against his shoulder. “Okay! Okay, I'm sorry, that was mean… Why don't I just go with you, then?” 

“Y-you can't,” he hisses, his face growing red. “They're colleagues.” 

Dazai blinks. “ Oh, okay, I get it. These are the friends you spilled the beans to, aren't they? Oh, Chuuya.” 

“Yep, so it would be too weird!” Chuuya insists. “Pick something else—I'll suck your dick, okay?” 

“Hmm, no I could get that any time—”

“No you fucking couldn't!” 

“—But how many chances will I get to embarrass you in front of your friends? I think this is too perfect.” He seems way too pleased with himself, as far as Chuuya is concerned. 

But he did lose a bet…

He really needs to stop humoring Dazai's antics.  

—-

Despite multiple attempts to get Dazai to change his mind, Chuuya still winds up entering the pub with him in tow. He's all smiles and walking on air, but Chuuya wants to crawl into a hole and bury himself. 

And it only gets worse when he gets to their usual table in the back. Yosano’s eyes are wide with intrigue, but he had been expecting that. What he hadn't been expecting was to see that she'd invited Kouyou—One of Chuuya's former classmates from when he was pursuing his undergraduate degree. The same one who had warned him about Dazai being a damn nutcase in the first place. 

“Well look at that, Nakahara, you were really that set on proving me wrong, huh?” Kouyou laughs. 

“Shut up.” 

“You two know each other?” Yosano asks, thankfully focusing on that, and not the annoying, lanky alpha taking the seat next to him. 

“Oh, Chuuya and I were undergraduates in the same year!” Kouyou exclaims, resting her chin in her hand. Her eyes flicker briefly to Dazai before moving back to him. “So, how's grad life treating you so far?” 

“Yeah, Chuuya, how's it going? I hear your supervisor's a real piece of work,” Dazai smirks as he leans in, clearly enjoying the conversation already. 

“You're right, he's a fucking asshole,” Chuuya scoffs. Kouyou gasps at the same time that Dazai laughs, and Chuuya can only groan and roll his eyes. 

From Kouyou's perspective, he's just insulted his superior to his face, and Dazai's smug as fuck because he knows Chuuya can't really elaborate. 

“Yikes, sounds like you need a drink,” Yosano says. Chuuya swallows, suddenly panicking as he quickly tries to think of a legitimate excuse. Thankfully he doesn't need to when she adds, “Come to the bar with me, Chuuya!” 

With that, she stands up and pulls at his elbow to urge him along. 

“Get me something while you're up,” Dazai says, still grinning. He seems like he's really enjoying himself already and Chuuya hates it. 

At least he thinks he hates it. 

Dazai's face seems softer when he's smiling. And not that hollow, empty smile he flashes when he's just trying to save face, or just being polite. This is one of Chuuya's favorite smiles—The ones where he looks genuinely happy. 

Sure, this time it's at Chuuya's expense. (Actually, most of the time it's at Chuuya's expense.) But for some reason, he doesn't mind it as much as he should. 

“You shouldn’t trust a stranger to get you a drink.” 

“Oh? Why's that?” Dazai asks. 

“You could get poisoned or something, I don't know.” Chuuya shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and shrugs. 

“Oooh, please do,” Dazai says, clapping his hands together like he's delighted by the idea. Fucking weirdo. 

“Got it, whiskey on the rocks with a splash of cyanide,” Chuuya mutters sarcastically. 

“You know me so well!” 

“No I don't—Shut the fuck up!” 

The sudden defensive outburst earns him a small audience of stunned stares. Dazai's grin fades, but his eyes still sparkle with intrigue, while Kouyou seems white as a ghost. 

“Ahaha, come on Chuuya,” Yosano chuckles awkwardly, pulling him along until they reach the bar counter. “Jeez, what the hell is that about?” 

“Lost a bet,” Chuuya grits. 

“Do I wanna know?” She asks, and Chuuya just shakes his head. “You're still sleeping with him aren't you?” 

He pauses a little too long, to the point where it's almost useless to think of an excuse. “Yeah, so?” 

“I thought it was just once!” 

“Nope,” he sighs, holding up three fingers. Yosano gasps and smacks him in the shoulders. 

“I can't believe you!” She gasps. 

“Reall?” he scoffs, just in time for the bartender to come by. “Whiskey on the rocks and…A ginger ale.” 

“You got it,” The bartender says, while Chuuya actively avoids Yosano’s gaze. 

“Really?” She teases. “Last time, you drank an entire bottle of pinot by yourself.” 

“Well, maybe I'm trying not to let Dazai see me drunk,” Chuuya offers. That sounds reasonable, doesn't it?

“No, I don't think you care that much, especially since he's already seen you… Oh, Chuuya, you aren't—” 

His stomach lurches as he hurries to shush her before she can say anything out loud. “Shut up, shut up!” 

“But—”

“Yes, okay? Don't fucking tell anyone. I'm serious,” Chuuya insists. 

“Does…” Yosano trails off to look back at the table, like she's checking to make sure everyone else is still out of earshot. “Does Dazai know?” 

“No,” Chuuya grits. “And he's not gonna find out, either.” 

“I mean, you can't hide that forever,” She points out. “He's going to notice eventually, especially if you guys keep, you know…”

“Fucking?” 

“Yeah. That.” 

The bartender returns to set the two drinks on the counter while Chuuya hands over his card. 

“So, like…that's a pretty big deal,” Yosano continues. “What are you gonna do?” 

“Don't know,” Chuuya shrugs. He's trying his best to act nonchalant, but the truth is that he's dying to rant some more. This just isn't the right time or place to do that. 

“Well, let me know if you need anything, okay?” Yosano offers. Chuuya doesn't respond, just takes his card back from the bartender and picks up the two drinks. 

They return to the table to find Dazai going on about god-knows-what. 

“And anyway, that's how I ended up here—Because Chuuya's a shitty tutor.” 

“Fuck off,” Chuuya groans, all but slamming Dazai's drink down in front of him. “There's your dumb drink.” 

“Aww, thanks. Cyanide and all?” 

“Yep, made it a double.” 

“Wha—Chuuya did you really?” Junichiro asks, his eyes wide with concern. 

“Maybe I did,” he mumbles, watching as Dazai brings the glass to his lips. For a brief moment, he wonders if Dazai will end up in his bed again by the end of the night. 

Not that it matters. 

It's fine if he doesn't sleep with him ever again, dammit!

But Chuuya wouldn't mind…

“This is too funny, I can't believe Chuuya of all people is chummy with his supervisor.” Kouyou teases, but only because she doesn't know. And Chuuya doesn't plan on telling her, either. He's always gotten along with her well enough, but when it comes down to it, she's a bit of a stickler for the rules. She'd snitch for sure.

Dazai almost chokes on his drink as he tries not to laugh, and Chuuya kicks him under the table. 

“I’m not,” Chuuya insists, while refusing to look anyone else in the eye. (Because everyone else would absolutely disagree with him.) 

“Then again, leave it to you to do everything you can to prove me wrong,” Kouyou sighs, swirling her drink around in her glass. 

“Oh?” Dazai chirps. “Prove you wrong about what?” 

“Oh, uh…” Kouyou trails off, suddenly losing a bit of her confidence when she realizes she isn't quite ready to tell Dazai all the things she warned Chuuya about to his face. 

“She suggested I request a new supervisor because you're an alpha,” Chuuya offers, and Dazai seems to find that intriguing. “And she told me you're fucking crazy. She was right.” 

“Ooh, interesting,” Dazai hums. 

“I didn't mean it like that, sir,” Kouyou apologizes immediately, which actually is kind of funny. 

“I actually don't prefer being called sir, it makes me sound old,” he sighs. 

“Sorry! Doctor?” 

“That's better,” Dazai shrugs. Chuuya hides his smirk as he slowly realizes that he's totally messing with her. Is it for Chuuya’s sake? Well, he doesn't know, and he's actually not willing to read too much into it just to potentially hurt his own feelings. 

“A-anyway, sorry about that, Dr. Dazai, I just…well, you know you have a certain… reputation, right?” Kouyou continues on, treading lighter and lighter. 

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Dazai finally says, waving her on. “I am a little offended that you thought me being an alpha would affect Chuuya in the slightest—”

“I wasn't doubting your restraint as an alpha, I swear,” she interjects. 

“Ah, okay, you just thought Chuuya would be too weak to resist my charms, that's fair.” 

“Hey!” Chuuya barks, gritting his teeth as the conversation suddenly swings back in his direction. Dazai grins one of his stupidly charming grins and shrugs. 

“Well, I should have known better than to underestimate Chuuya's stubbornness.” 

“Anyway, Chuuya, right before you got here, Yosano was telling us about a girl she met at the campus bookstore!” Junichiro suddenly reminds them. He silently thanks him for changing the subject. 

The rest of the night isn't too bad. Once the attention isn't on him and the fact that he'd waltzed into the bar with his supervisor it's actually not too bad. Maybe it's because Dazai isn't much older than any of them, or maybe it's because even with his quirks, he's still absurdly charismatic. But no matter how hard Chuuya tries to hate him and their situation, he just can't. 

“Your friends are cooler than you,” Dazai tells him once they leave the pub for the evening. Chuuya mostly ignores him, way too sober for humoring his drunken state. 

“Where do you live?” Chuuya asks him. “I'll call a ride for you.” 

“What? No need,” Dazai says, catching himself on Chuuya's shoulder as he stumbles. The alpha is beyond drunk, and his lack of coordination makes it seem like his limbs have somehow gotten longer. 

“Ha, nice try, there's no way you're driving home like this. I know you wanna die or whatever, but it's not gonna be on my watch.” 

“I don't want to die…Not right now, anyway,” Dazai admits, and Chuuya isn't sure what that means, but he's not ready to unpack that with a drunk man. 

“Great, now give me your damn address,” Chuuya insists, attempting to shrug him away. Instead, Dazai just rests his head against Chuuya's shoulder and lets out a lofty sigh. 

His scent is still strong, albeit mixed with the sharp notes of whiskey. It's weird how it seems to suit him anyway. In a world where they didn't have to keep up appearances, and Chuuya could be honest about the weird feelings that keep bubbling in his chest, maybe he'd be able to lean into Dazai a little more. Pat his hair, kiss his temple…

“Why don't you let me crash at your place instead?” Dazai asks, bold as ever. Chuuya stiffens at the suggestion. “I should have added that to my prize.” 

“Added what? A sleepover?” he scoffs, and Dazai nuzzles closer. “Stop it! What if someone sees you?” 

“Who cares,” he slurs. “You smell so nice.” 

“Shut up, Dazai,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Seriously! What if someone from class sees us?” 

“Fine, fine,” Dazai says, straightening himself out while still remaining close by. 

“So…” 

“Your place?” Dazai smirks. 

Chuuya glares. He's going to stand his ground this time and shove Dazai into a ride share if he has to! There's no way in hell he's letting this idiot back into his home! 

“Fine,” Chuuya sighs. “You sleep on the couch, though.” 

“Of course! Thanks Chuuya!” 

“Yeah, whatever—Don't expect breakfast in the morning, either. You can take your own hungover ass home.” 

“Not a problem,” Dazai hums, clearly just pleased to have gotten his way. 

Maybe the evening had gone better than Chuuya expected, but for some reason it still leaves him in an oddly somber mood. Like the night was just a tease of something he could never actually have. 

At least, if he's sure of anything, it's that he'll have to think of a better plan when it comes to making sure Dazai doesn't find out that Chuuya is pregnant. 

With his pup. 

Chapter Text

Dazai can't remember the last time he's woken up in someone else's bed without remembering how he got there in the first place. Actually, he's pretty sure there's never been a time where exactly that had happened. If he ever made the mistake of spending the night after a fling, he'd sneak out as early as possible, quick to forget it even happened at all. 

But this time feels different—He has absolutely zero urge to sneak out or take off running.

He can't place what it is exactly, but there's something nice about waking up to Nakahara Chuuya still fast asleep and snuggled into Dazai's chest. When Chuuya's sleeping, he looks so serene, so much more at ease than when he's scowling or yelling or stomping around like he usually does. Instead, his cheek is squished into Dazai's shirt, his fiery curls sprawled every which way. 

Dazai smirks, gently moving one hand to lightly play with Chuuya's hair. It's so soft. He can’t really remember if he’s ever considered himself to have a type before…but for some reason, now, if anyone asked, he might say that he prefers redheads. 

His hand moves slowly from his hair, lightly brushing against his cheek. Chuuya stirs gently at the motion, and Dazai smiles. The omega’s nose scrunches up a bit, and his eyebrows furrow before his eyes start to slowly blink open. 

“Sleeping Beauty is finally awake,” he teases, earning a grumpy scowl from the omega. 

“What the—Ugh, what time is it?” he grumbles, his voice low and groggy still from sleeping. He twists out of Dazai’s arms, leaving them empty, as he sits up and grabs his phone. “Fuck, it’s so damn late.” 

“It’s Saturday,” Dazai reminds him. “Do you have class on Saturdays?” 

“Huh? No,” Chuuya mumbles. “I just don’t like sleeping in—I feel like I waste half the damn day.” 

“Hmm, that’s one way to look at it…if you think sleeping is a waste of time, I guess.” 

“Stop, I just woke up,” Chuuya sighs, clearly not in the mood to discuss the varying points of view on the topic. 

“What happened last night? Did we have sex again?” Dazai asks, wiggling his eyebrows. The tail end of the night is a blur, but he distinctly remembers Chuuya being a little more together than Dazai was, at least. Either he didn’t have as much to drink, or he holds his alcohol much better than Dazai does. (Which would be odd, given that Chuuya is so much smaller.) 

“What? No,” Chuuya scoffs. His cheeks redden slightly and his brow scrunches up again. “Don’t you remember? Were you that fucking wasted?” 

“I guess so!” he laughs. 

“I told you to sleep on the damn couch, and you wormed your way into my bed anyway,” Chuuya explains, and for some reason, it isn’t the answer Dazai wants to hear. Of course they wouldn't have ended their night willingly in the comfort of each other's arms. 

They're not together. 

Not like that. 

“I'm sure that couch was way too uncomfortable,” Dazai suggests. “Besides, what's the harm in sharing a bed for one night? If I'm not mistaken, I've done much nastier things in this same bed.” 

The look Chuuya gives him is complex. Annoyed on the surface, probably a little embarrassed. It's not the first time Dazai has been hit with the unsettling realization that Chuuya might not feel like he can tell Dazai not to do these things. Ethical or not, and no matter what agreements they come to, Dazai is technically still in a position of power. 

Chuuya might act all harsh and uncaring, but the reality is that, on some level, he's only humoring Dazai's antics. Once the semester is over, he could request another supervisor, and if that happens, then they might not ever speak to each other again. 

“Whatever,” Chuuya mumbles, barely paying attention anymore as he scrolls through his phone. Dazai watches him for a moment, ready to make plans for a smooth exit…But then Chuuya suddenly gets up off the bed. “Shit, sorry, I'll be right back.” 

He doesn't even give Dazai a chance to answer before he's headed out the door and pressing the phone to his ear. As he waits and listens, he can also hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. Whatever he's doing, he really doesn't want Dazai hearing his conversation if he has to go all the way outside for it. 

Again, it shouldn't be a surprise. Chuuya isn't his boyfriend, hell, they aren't even regular friends. There is no obligation to share anything personal between the two of them. 

That's just how it is. 

Dazai's fine with that. 

He is.

Still, he wonders who Chuuya is talking to. A friend? A family member? Maybe Chuuya's had a partner all along, and Dazai's just a homewrecker…

That wouldn't make any sense though. He doesn't have any claiming marks, and even when they're fucking, Dazai can't sense any other alpha on him. 

They never actually agreed to exclusively sleep with each other. Chuuya has every right to seek out other sex partners if he really wants to. 

Still, Dazai could ask and sate his curiosity. 

It's a fair question, right? Maybe they should be more diligent about wearing condoms if he has multiple partners—You know, because of STDs and such. 

When Chuuya gets back to the room, Dazai looks up and gives him his most pleasant look—No need for him to suspect what he's been ruminating about while he was gone. His smile fades when he realizes Chuuya seems off. 

“Hey, I gotta get going,” Chuuya says. “I have some errands to run and I'm gonna be late.” 

“Oh, okay,” Dazai says, finally getting up and out of the other man's bed. He inspects himself, seeing that he's still dressed in the clothes he wore the night before. “Looks like I get to take the walk of shame now, huh?” 

It's just a joke. 

Chuuya doesn't even smile. 

“Yeah, just…hurry, okay?” 

“Why? Do you have another alpha on his way?” He doesn't mean to say it. The words just slip out. Honestly. 

“The fuck? Even if I did, it's none of your damn business! I just have shit to take care of!” His tone is vicious and fuck, if looks could kill…

Dazai steels and meets Chuuya's eyes. Glaring, piercing blue stares back at him, challenging. 

Not trusting that he won't say anything else that's stupid, Dazai opts for silence and strides out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye. 

—

Chuuya hates that he can’t get Dazai’s stupid face out of his head from earlier that morning. It’s not his fault that his OB-GYN decided to call him while they were still in bed together, just to tell him that they could squeeze him in on a Saturday. And yet Dazai had the nerve to give him a look. He didn’t seem mad or upset just…Cold and distrusting. 

And then he just left! 

Fucking asshole. 

Whatever. 

It’s not like there was anything to say, anyway. Even if Dazai had pressed the issue, Chuuya wouldn’t have told him what he was up to. It doesn’t matter to him if Dazai chooses to think that he’s some slut with ten other alphas lined up besides him. That idiot doesn’t have any fucking right to be mad about who Chuuya sleeps with or doesn’t sleep with. 

He’s the one who said they were just having casual sex. 

And Chuuya…Well, Chuuya agrees. Obviously. 

“Nakahara?” 

His breathing hitches when one of the nurses enters the waiting room and calls his name. He can’t help but feel like everyone in the room is staring at him—As if it’s strange for an omega to be visiting a gynecologist. Obviously it isn’t, but there’s this nagging anxiety that everyone in that drab waiting room just knows. They know he fucked his supervisor. They know he’s pregnant with Dr. Dazai Osamu’s baby. 

Chuuya shudders, and crosses the room anyway, not sparing anyone a second glance. 

“Right this way!” the nurse says, her voice light and chipper. Chuuya isn’t sure if he finds it comforting or annoying. 

She leads him into a small exam room and gestures for him to sit on the edge of the exam table while she scribbles something on a clipboard. 

“My name is Elise,” she tells him, with a sweet smile. “I see in Dr. Mori’s notes here that you’re in to confirm your pregnancy?” 

Chuuya’s cheeks burn, but he nods anyway. “Uh, yeah.” 

“Is this your first?” She asks him. Chuuya nods again, unable to form actual words because it just feels so strange. She may be used to pregnancies and babies in a place like this, but Chuuya is not. “Well, I’m super excited for you, Mr. Nakahara. I’ll go ahead and take a sample from you now, and then Dr. Mori should be in to see you shortly.” 

“Okay, thanks,” he swallows. 

The nurse, Elise, hums as she prepares the needle for a blood test. It doesn’t take long, but she keeps trying to make small talk with him, and Chuuya just isn’t in the mood. He just wants to know what the hell he has to do to stay healthy and that’s it. He doesn’t want to talk about how it’s a miracle or amazing, or how his alpha must be so proud.  

He doesn’t have the heart to admit that he doesn’t have an alpha. 

He was just dumb enough to let one fuck him. 

After what feels like several hours of waiting (it’s not—it’s more like fifteen minutes, if that—Dr. Mori finally enters the exam room. He’s seen this doctor before, for annual exams and shit like that. Just never for anything like this, obviously. 

“So what now? Do I have to wait until the blood test comes back?” Chuuya asks him, fully expecting to be sent home with the usual spiel— don’t call us for results, we’ll call you!

“Hmm? Oh, I think it’s pretty safe to assume you’re pregnant,” he tells Chuuya, far too nonchalant for Chuuya’s liking. “On the phone, you said you took two tests, and that you had nausea that was only settled by an alpha’s scenting.” 

“Yeah?” 

“And how many weeks has it been since conception? Or when you think it might have been?” he asks. Chuuya pauses for a moment, but he really doesn’t have to think too hard about it. There was only one time it could have been, and that was the first time he and Dazai had sex in his office. Before that, the last time he’d had sex was months ago. Either way, the nausea wouldn’t have subsided if it wasn’t Dazai’s pup. That’s what he’d read online, anyway. 

“About six,” he says, quietly. Dr. Mori types something into his laptop and then turns back to him. 

“If it’s alright with you, we can do your first ultrasound now, and see if we can detect the heartbeat yet,” he explains. All Chuuya can do is stare at him, his brain refusing to process anything. Ultrasound? Heartbeat? What? 

It’s all becoming way too real, way too fast. 

“Do I have to?” 

“Oh… Oh, I see. Would you like to wait so that your alpha can be here with you?” he asks, and it feels like a punch to the gut. Stupid ass doctor. 

“Uh, no…no alpha,” Chuuya grits. “Just do it.” 

He furrows his brow and lays back on the exam table, waiting until Dr. Mori tells him to lift his shirt or something to squirt out the gel he’s seen on tv and stuff. Instead, the doctor drops a new, neatly folded hospital gown onto the exam table next to him. 

“Change into this and I’ll be right back in when you’re done.” 

“What? Why? I thought you just had to wave a wand on my stomach or something, I’m not getting naked if I don’t have to,” he scoffs. Seriously, is this guy just a creep or something?!

“It’s a little early for that, I think,” Dr. Mori says. “The one we’ll have to do today is a transvaginal ultrasound. We’ll be able to detect a heartbeat a little easier that way.” 

Chuuya pales—he had mentally prepared himself for a blood test at the most, and now this guy is saying he’s gonna stick something up his— No way!

“Of course, if you’re not ready, we can reschedule.” 

For some reason, Chuuya doesn’t like the insinuation that he isn’t ready. He can fucking handle it! He doesn’t need a damn alpha to hold his hand! Having that stupid bastard Dazai sitting here next to him would make things worse, anyway. He’d be looming over him, scenting him gently while making slightly inappropriate comments, yet coming to his defense if the doctor happened to say anything bad about Chuuya…

Yeah, sounds like a terrible time, honestly. 

“No, it’s fine, might as well get it over with,” Chuuya huffs. Dr. Mori smiles politely before excusing himself. 

Annoyed, Chuuya changes out of his own clothes and puts on the thin hospital gown. It’s boxy and the draftiness leaves him feeling more exposed than covered up. Once he’s changed, he sets his clothes on the bench across from the exam table and then scoops up his phone before sitting down again. When he looks at it, he sees that he has a new message from Yosano. 

Yosano: Let me know how it goes! 

It’s just a reply from a message Chuuya had sent earlier, telling her about his appointment. He never really thought of her as a friend, or someone he was close with, but she’s the only one who knows about his situation and…well, he feels like he just has to tell someone. It’s nice to be able to get it off his chest a little. 

He sends back a stupid emoji as a response, then locks his phone again as soon as he hears a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Chuuya says, clearing his throat and doing his best to look as not-nervous as possible. Because he’s not. He can handle this. 

Dr. Mori comes back in, this time with Elise in tow, and she gets right to work helping him set up the equipment he’s about to use. Chuuya doesn’t look at it; he doesn’t want the chance to overthink whatever the hell’s about to be shoved up inside of him. 

“Alright, Chuuya,” he says, rolling over on his stool and adjusting the stirrups at the end of the exam table. “Go ahead and lay back and put your heels up on these.” 

He swallows and nods, leaning back so he can spread his legs apart. It’s not like he’s never been to the gynecologist before—It’s normal shit, nothing to be embarrassed about. But there’s still something unsettling about how normal it all seems this time. There shouldn’t be anything normal about being pregnant with Dr. Dazai Osamu’s damn baby! 

“I take it you’ve never had an ultrasound before?” Dr. Mori asks him. 

“I’ve never been pregnant before, so no.” 

“Well, you don’t need to be pregnant to have an ultrasound, there are plenty of instances where someone might need one,” Dr. Mori chuckles. “All I’m going to do is insert this wand into your vagina. It might be a little uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt. This early on, we might have to do a little searching, but it should show up on this screen here.”

“Okay,” Chuuya mutters, following his gesture to a grey computer screen. It looks like nothing so far. “Just do it, already.” 

“Alright, sure,” Dr. Mori says. 

The wand is stiff and sterile when it slips inside of him. And he’s right—It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t feel great, either. As Dr. Mori moves the stick slightly, Chuuya grimaces, keeping his eyes on the screen. The warbled shades of gray shift a little, but Chuuya doesn’t know what he’s looking at either way. When he shifts, there’s a soft pulsating sound that catches Chuuya off guard. 

“Is that—” 

“That’s your pulse,” Dr. Mori tells him, his voice a little more serious now. It isn’t exactly reassuring, though, and for a split second Chuuya actually starts to worry. Is the doctor concerned? Is there something wrong? 

“Is—” 

Before he can get anything else out, the sound changes to a sharper pulsing, and Chuuya’s own heart just about stops. That’s gotta be it. It has to be.

“Do you hear that, Elise?” Dr. Mori asks, exchanging peculiar looks with his nurse. She nods and Dr. Mori turns his attention back to the screen. The stick moves again and Chuuya winces. 

“What’s wrong?” Chuuya asks. “Is something wrong?” 

“Shhh,” Dr. Mori says, pausing again to listen. 

“I definitely hear it,” Elise confirms, nodding again. 

The gray shifts again, and this time there’s a bit more of a change. (Though for all Chuuya knows, he could be looking at his bladder or something, so he waits for Dr. Mori.) 

“There we go,” Dr. Mori says, smiling again. “Can you hear the heartbeat?” 

“Yeah,” Chuuya says, quietly, staring at the gray on the screen as it slowly starts to sink in that he’s listening to his fucking baby’s heartbeat. It’s a real ass baby in there. 

“So, what you’re hearing, that’s actually two heartbeats,” Dr. Mori says, and Chuuya isn’t exactly sure what he’s getting at right away. 

“Does that mean there’s something wrong?” Chuuya asks, suddenly genuinely worried about his baby. “Why does it have two heart beats?” 

“Ah, well, it doesn’t,” Dr. Mori explains. “There are two heartbeats because you’re having two babies. Twins, Chuuya.” 

It isn’t often that Chuuya is struck absolutely speechless, but this time he doesn’t have a single word that could possibly describe what’s going through his head. All he can do is roll his head to the side and stare wide-eyed at the screen in disbelief. 

“It’s a little hard to see, but right over here…” Elise points to the screen and uses her finger to indicate two different blobs of gray. “Congratulations, Mr. Nakahara.” 

“Do they…look okay?” Chuuya asks, quietly, still staring at the screen. 

“Everything seems normal, the heartbeats are strong,” he tells him, while Elise types something on the computer. After that, he removes the wand and sets it aside to be cleaned. “You can sit up.” 

Chuuya does just that; eager to close his legs, but with his eyes still glued to the screen. 

“I can get you a copy, if you’d like,” Elise tells him, noticing his sudden fixation. 

“Yeah? I’d like that,” Chuuya tells her. She smiles again and excuses herself after that, leaving him alone with Dr. Mori once again. 

“So, tell me about the alpha who impregnated you,” Dr. Mori says, cutting right to the chase. He doesn’t sound like he’s teasing or criticizing. Instead, his voice sounds almost cold and business-like. As if he needs to make a point more than he needs Chuuya to feel comforted. 

“There’s nothing to tell. He’s not going to be in the picture,” Chuuya admits, even though it makes him a little sad. At least now he can confidently blame his hormones if he’s feeling too emotional about random crap. 

“I just want you to be aware that with multiples, your side effects of pregnancy might be stronger. If you go unscented for too long, you might start feeling sick again. You might start emitting stronger pheromones without realizing it. That’s your instincts’ way of trying to protect you—to attract an alpha to care for you and your pups.” 

“I can protect myself,” Chuuya assures him. 

“Right, I’m sure you can…Look, I can prescribe a suppressant that’s safe for pregnancy, but you can’t take it past the first trimester. That should at least give you enough time to make a plan,” Dr. Mori explains. “I’m not here to tell you what to do in your personal life, just to give you the facts about what could happen during pregnancy if you go unmated for the duration.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Chuuya sighs. “I’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” 

“I hope so,” Dr. Mori says, a little softer. “I can also prescribe something for nausea, but I’ll also warn you that it isn’t a replacement for scenting—Your body will always prefer the scent of an alpha if you can make that happen. If not, the medication should help you stay on your feet.” 

“Thanks.” 

“When you pick these up from your pharmacy, I’d also recommend picking up some prenatal vitamins.” 

“Alright…is that all?” he asks. Dr. Mori is already standing up from his stool, discarding his gloves and moving to the sink to wash his hands. 

“Yep,” he confirms. “I’ll leave you to get dressed. And then once you are, you can just head right back to reception and they’ll get you scheduled for your next appointment.” 

Chuuya thanks him and then he’s gone in an instant. 

He goes through the motions of re-dressing himself, but none of it feels like it’s real. How the hell is he pregnant, let alone pregnant with twins?  

Fuck. 

Twins.  

That’s twice the amount of babies he was expecting to have. 

As soon as he has his clothes back on, someone knocks at the door. He lets them know it’s okay to come in, and Elise steps through with a folder in hand. 

“The ultrasound,” she reminds him. “And again, congratulations.” 

He thanks her quietly and waits for her to leave before he opens the folder. It’s exactly what she promised—A photo of the gray blobs she’d shown him on the screen with little notes overlaid to show where each fetus could be seen. 

It’s so fucking weird. 

He takes out his phone and snaps a picture to send to Yosano. 

Chuuya: <img.jpg> 

He sends it before he can think of a caption. Maybe he should be genuine for once…or he could be stupid and sarcastic like he usually is—

Yosano: TWINS!?!

Chuuya stares at her text, bewildered. 

Chuuya: How the fuck can you tell???? 

Yosano: I was pre-med as an undergrad!! I told you!!! 

Fuck, Chuuya totally forgot about that. Oh well. 

Yosano: Holy fuck that’s crazy. 

Yosano: Are you sure you’re not going to tell Dazai??

Chuuya stares at the text for a moment, unsure of how to respond. If he thinks about the situation in terms of morals and ethics, then he knows that he absolutely should tell Dazai. He should know that he had a hand in bringing not only one, but two new souls into the world. He should have the chance to choose whether or not he wants to be a part of their lives… 

But he isn’t thinking about this morally or ethically. 

He’s thinking about it in terms of what he can handle emotionally and physically. 

Chuuya: Yeah, I’m not fucking telling him. 

Chapter Text

cw: brief suicidal ideation

Another month passes in the blink of an eye. 

Chuuya still hasn’t said a word to Dazai, despite the fact that he can no longer count how many times they’ve fucked on two hands. Class is going well, and they’ve got a good thing going with the way that they teach. They tag-team, they argue, they fucking knock it out of the damn park with every lecture they hold! 

And when doors are closed, Dazai fucks him like he’s a bitch in heat. 

It's nice—Not only does Chuuya get treated to the best sex of his life every time, but it's also an excuse to get scented by the alpha and not need his stupid nausea meds. At ten weeks with twins, he notices a swell to his lower stomach. He knows it’s a baby bump already (Dr. Mori had warned him that due to his smaller frame and having two babies on the way, his bump was bound to show sooner), but for now he can pass it off as bloating after a meal or something. Worst case scenario, he can wear a big sweater and no one would even know the difference. 

He's already gone for his second appointment with Dr. Mori, and everything seems to still be going well. His symptoms aren't as bad as they were at first, and he doesn't need to take the meds he's been prescribed. (Though Mori did give him a bit of a lecture when he learned that Chuuya still hasn't told the alpha about his pregnancy.) 

Aside from the staff at the OB-GYN office, the only person who knows about his pregnancy is still Yosano. He never expected to be close with her at all, but she's been surprisingly supportive and trustworthy throughout this whole thing. Actually, if he’s being honest, it was never in any of his plans to make friends with anyone at the university. All he wanted to do, really, is keep his head down and get an advanced degree while he figured out what he actually wanted to do with his life. 

And now that all of those plans have been thwarted—He now has two friends, a casual sex partner, and two unborn children. 

Chuuya doesn't mind that his pregnancy is still a secret, though. In fact, he kind of likes it that he can keep it to himself. When he’s alone in his apartment, he'll place his hands on his belly, fascinated by the lives growing inside of him. Sometimes he even lets himself wonder who they'll look more like. 

Will they have Dazai's eyes? His smile? 

Chuuya hopes so. 

—

“Fuck, Chuuya,” Dazai breathes as Chuuya rides his cock while he sits back on Chuuya’s living room couch. (Yeah, okay, he said he wasn’t going to let Dazai back in, but clearly Chuuya never makes good decisions when it comes to Dazai.) The alpha’s hands hold his hips tight while his lips find one of Chuuya’s nipples. 

“Aah, shit,” Chuuya hisses at the stinging sensation—His nipples have been so damn sensitive lately, but he has to play it off like he isn’t bothered by it in order to avoid questions. Instead, he just squeezes his eyes shut and moves his hips a little faster, fucking himself on the alpha’s thick rod. 

Dazai’s tongue swirls around the swollen bud, flickering over it a few times before his lips close around it and he sucks. A gentle suckle, and it fucking hurts, but it also drives Chuuya wild. 

What’s gonna happen when he starts producing milk? Will his chest get bigger? Will he have tits? And, more importantly, will Dazai want to suck on them when they’re full of milk? Fuck.

He digs his fingernails into Dazai’s shoulders and moans.  

The alpha’s lips leave his chest and he leans his head back against the couch, looking up at Chuuya with his lips parted. His first thought is to complain about the lack of stimulation on his tits, but as soon as he sees Dazai’s open mouth, his thoughts take him elsewhere. Instead of whining, he leans in and slides his tongue between Dazai’s plush lips, letting the alpha suck on that instead. 

The alpha responds with enthusiasm, letting his hands snake around to Chuuya’s backside and holding him in place as their lips start to move. His mouth is hot and wet, and he relishes the way Dazai’s lips curl into a grin, as his fingers wander between his ass cheeks. 

Chuuya inhales sharply. “What’re you—”

“Shh, just relax,” Dazai’s words are deep and grisly next to his ear. Chuuya can’t help but shiver, dropping his face down against the alpha’s shoulder before turning slightly and breathing in his scent. Somehow, Dazai had managed to take control of the situation, holding Chuuya in place while he pistons his hips upwards and fucks into him from below. One of Dazai’s long fingers teases his asshole, lightly rubbing at the puckered entrance while he continues to fuck his pussy. 

“D-Dazai,” he moans pitifully, hissing when that finger finally pushes inside. It’s just a finger, but he’s already stuffed to the brim in one hole that the extra intrusion makes him feel so fucking full. So full that he’s going to burst. “Too much.” 

“You can do it,” Dazai tells him softly, his voice warm and melodic,  just as he adds another finger. 

“Ahh, fuck—” Chuuy grits his teeth and arches his back. He can feel Dazai smiling against him as his fingers start to move, fingering his ass while his cock slides in and out of his cunt. “Please, I’m done—I gotta cum— fuck.”

“Then cum,” Dazai chuckles. Chuuya groans again and sits up, giving Dazai space to use his other hand to grip his swollen cock. He shudders again, stimulation hitting him at so many different angles. It all comes together at once, and Chuuya’s head spins so fast he can’t even think.

“Fuck, fuck! Dazai!” Chuuya shouts, and his inner walls clench and spasm around the alpha’s member, and his cock spills over Dazai’s hand, making a mess of them both. Sweat beads on his forehead and he gasps for air, trying his best to get a grip on reality. 

But Dazai doesn’t stop. He’s still thrusting, hell, he’s thrusting harder now, assaulting his spent pussy while it twitches and pulsates. Chuuya lets out a pathetic whine as the alpha’s growing knot starts to expand, stretching his cunt wider and wider before pushing all the way inside and locking them both together. 

“Shit, Chuuya,” Dazai moans, pulling him in closer and holding him tight as he thrusts into him one last time. Chuuya can feel wave after wave of hot seed filling him up. When he’s done, Chuuya finally relaxes and rests his cheek against Dazai’s shoulder. 

In these moments, when they’re still tied together, it almost feels like they’re a real couple cuddling after sex. Dazai lets him lay there, even holds him while he does, and rubs small, soft, soothing circles into his back. It feels nice, especially since his back has already been a little sore. Maybe he isn’t too big yet, but whatever his babies are up to in there, they sure are rearranging his organs already. 

“Chuuya…can I ask you something?” 

Chuuya’s eyelids are heavy, threatening to close so he can take a much-needed nap. “Hmm?” 

“Are you seeing someone?” 

The question comes from nowhere, and Chuuya would be more blindsided by it if his head wasn’t still spinning from his orgasm. 

“What do you mean?” Chuuya asks, still sleepy. “I’m not dating anyone if that’s what you’re asking…” 

“Oh, okay,” Dazai sighs. “Are you sleeping with anyone else?” 

“Is that any of your business?” Chuuya mutters, and he doesn’t really mean to sound so snarky. He’s really only teasing, but Dazai stiffens anyway. 

“Right, I guess not.” 

“I’m not sleeping with anyone else,” Chuuya sighs. “When the hell would I have time to do that?” 

“Don’t know,” Dazai shrugs. “Something’s…different.” 

Suddenly, Chuuya can’t breathe. 

Something different? What the hell does that mean? Maybe he noticed his bump? Fuck, he wasn’t ready to talk about this yet—he was going to practice his speech where he explains to Dazai in the most eloquent of ways that he doesn’t need to take responsibility, and all that jazz. But he can’t make a speech like that if he’s caught off guard and flustered! 

Fuck—

“I don’t know…I can’t really place it.” Dazai lets out a deep sigh. His voice goes back to normal; sweet and playful like it was before. “Forget I said anything, it’s probably just instincts.” 

“Yeah, instincts are weird, you know,” Chuuya mutters. “Don't worry about it.” 

Dazai pauses for a beat before continuing. “Speaking of instincts…My rut starts next week.” 

“Oh,” Chuuya says, not really sure what the right words would be, or what he’s actually getting at. “Do you…want help?” 

“That's awfully sweet of you, Chuuya,” he teases, tapping a finger against Chuuya's nose. He wrinkles his nose in response as Dazai hums. “I think I'll be okay, though.” 

“You sure?” 

“Positive…I've gotta be responsible sometimes, don't I?” 

“Responsible for what?” 

“Well, a prime alpha in rut is bound to impregnate an omega no matter how careful he is.” 

Chuuya freezes. 

Dazai has no fucking clue how ironic he's being. Even though he's right about a prime in rut. The only reason Chuuya didn't think about that before offering is because, well…

He's a little bit beyond worrying about getting pregnant. It’s not like he could get him pregnant again, but he can’t just tell Dazai that. 

“Right, duh,” Chuuya chuckles. “Never been with a prime before.” 

“Does it excite you?” 

“What? You?” 

“The idea of me being so potent I could render your birth control ineffective?” Dazai asks, smirking as he rolls his hips. He's so damn cocky sometimes. Chuuya scoffs and pinches the alpha’s cheek, earning a dramatic whine.

“Ha, don't flatter yourself,” Chuuya chuckles, stopping himself from responding with what birth control? Or pointing out that he already managed to do that when he wasn't even in rut yet.

The only thing preventing him from getting pregnant now is the fact that his womb is already occupied. 

Dazai grows even more bold, this time gently placing his hand against Chuuya's slightly swollen stomach. For a second, yet again, he swears he can't fucking breathe—

“You're so full just from my cum right now, imagine how big you'd get if you were with child.” Dazai's teasing—he knows he's just fucking with him! The alpha loves saying things to make Chuuya mad on purpose. But it doesn't stop the panic that surges within him, doesn't stop the way his heart nearly gives out altogether. 

Maybe he's just messing with Chuuya, but all Chuuya can think about is how he noticed. He noticed Chuuya's belly. It doesn't look like anything more than some bloating, even Yosano agreed when he'd shown her the other day! 

“Don't be a fucking creep,” Chuuya scolds. “You shouldn't be talking about shit like that, what happened to boundaries?” 

“Ah, yeah I guess you're right. With my rut coming up soon, it's got my head in a weird place,” Dazai admits. Chuuya gets it, to an extent. There's always a day or two before his heats where he'll be hit with baby fever out of nowhere. Despite being glaringly single, he'll find himself imagining what it would be like to be bred by an alpha, or looking at baby shoes in the store. 

“Right, that makes sense,” Chuuya says, quietly. “Are you going to be in class then?” 

“Hmm…I don't know,” he shrugs, a little too nonchalant. “Do you think it would be distracting for the students?” 

“I think it would be too distracting for me,” Chuuya scoffs. Though he's actually not sure if rut pheromones would affect him the same way if he's already pregnant. 

“Oh, wouldn't that be entertaining?” 

“ No,” Chuuya scolds, flicking him in the ear. 

“Ow!” he laughs. 

His laugh always makes Chuuya's chest feel a little lighter. Not every laugh, but when he laughs like this. He sounds like he doesn't have a care in the world and just for a second, Chuuya can pretend like nothing else exists beyond the two of them. 

—

Dazai wanted to blame it on his rut. 

But when that comes and goes and something still feels off, he doesn't know what to think anymore. His rut ends by the time he meets with Chuuya that Friday, and the omega seems relatively normal. 

He promised Dazai that he wasn't sleeping with anyone else, and Dazai wants to believe him. There's no reason for Dazai to even care enough to doubt him. 

But he can't get it out of his head that Chuuya's scent has changed. 

He noticed it a couple of weeks ago, just a faint note of something different, something he could easily brush off as a mistake or someone brushing against him accidentally. But then each time he sees the omega, that extra note has grown stronger, more all-encompassing. 

Chuuya still has the same notes as before—warm vanilla sugar…those parts haven't changed. But now there's something else mixed in that Dazai can't place…whipped cream, maybe? Something like that. 

When they first met in close quarters, Dazai distinctly remembers that he got every note of Chuuya's scent exactly right, just as Chuuya had with Dazai's. If they weren't that compatible, then Chuuya shouldn't even feel the need to fuck someone else; Dazai should be more than satisfying for his instincts. 

And yet…it changed. 

“Something wrong?” Chuuya asks, looking up from the essay he's grading. Dazai had assigned an essay in lieu of a mid term, and their main task for tonight is to grade them all. 

“Nope,” Dazai says, grabbing another essay from the stack on the table between them. He looks down at the cover page and smirks. “Ooh, look, it's Atsushi’s.”

Just as he expected, Chuuya gives him this mildly annoyed look, which is actually one of Dazai's favorite looks that the omega gives him. Over the past couple of months, he's learned that Chuuya is almost physically incapable of being outwardly affectionate, but there are times when he comes close. He says mean things, but Dazai can tell that he rarely ever means the things that he says. 

“You're an asshole, leave that kid alone.” He can see the way Chuuya's nostrils flare and his upper lip twitches. Like he wants to laugh along but also doesn't want to give Dazai the satisfaction. 

Dazai smiles at him across the table, resting his chin in one hand. 

“What?” Chuuya scoffs, a pretty shade of pink creeping over his cheeks. 

He's so cute. 

“Nothing. Do you want to grade Atsushi’s paper then? So you can protect him from my harsh, evil criticism?” 

Chuuya rolls his eyes and Dazai's heart squeezes. “No thanks. Have at it.” 

“Ooh, Chuuya you're heartless. Poor Atsushi would cry.” 

“Don't care, it's not like he's my problem.” Chuuya doesn't even look up as he sets aside one essay just to scoop up another. After looking it over for a moment, he lets out a loud groan. “This is too much for two people, you should really look into taking on more TAs…how did you do this by yourself before?” 

“I didn't assign essays?” Dazai shrugs. “And smaller class sizes. Last semester I didn't have half this many in one section.” 

“Yosano's supervisor has four TAs,” Chuuya points out. 

“Well what a lucky supervisor,” Dazai hums. “If only I could dream of being that popular.”

“You could just take on more couldn't you?” Chuuya asks. Dazai blinks, thinking back to when he'd pulled Chuuya's file from a stack while snickering at his dumb hat. 

That day, he'd also pulled two other files from the stack. And the day after assignments went out, those other two candidates reached out to request a new supervising professor. 

Something about being in one of Dazai's undergrad classes previously and being traumatized. He doesn't think he's done anything particularly traumatizing, but he doesn't bother arguing about it anymore. Some people don't agree with the way he talks about heavy subjects, that's all there is to it, really. 

“I just don't feel like it,” Dazai sighs. “You keep me pretty busy as it is.” 

Now Chuuya's looking at him again, those pretty blue eyes narrowed in his direction. “Shut up, don't say dumb things.” 

“What's dumb? I'm telling the truth,” Dazai says, smugly. “Am I wrong?” 

The pink in Chuuya's cheeks darkens to a tomato-like red. 

“Shut up,” he growls before turning back to the paper he's working on. 

“You know what sucks? By the time we're done grading these essays, it'll practically be time for finals,” Dazai says out loud. This semester seems to be flying by. “I'll be offering this same course next semester. Maybe I'll reconsider what we do for the next midterm.” 

“We?” Chuuya asks, and the question catches Dazai off guard in a way he doesn't expect.  

“Yeah?” he responds, blinking. Is it wrong to assume that Chuuya would want to stay on as his TA? Sexual escapades aside, Dazai thinks they make a pretty good team. 

“I just…Do you think it's a good idea for me to stay on as your candidate?”

Dazai opens his mouth to respond, but quickly closes it again. “I don't see why it would be a bad idea.” 

“I was thinking…wouldn't it be bad if someone found out? Would it be easier if we switched around—That way there's no conflict of interest if we want to keep hooking up.” 

Dazai stares at him, not sure what to say. He's surprising himself with how hurt he feels by the idea that Chuuya doesn't want to be supervised by him anymore. Has he always felt this way? Does he not like working with Dazai? 

“Who says someone's going to find out? Besides, part of the fun is the thrill of getting caught, isn't it?” He gives Chuuya a sly smile, but unfortunately doesn't get much of a reaction from the omega. 

“I don't know…” he mumbles, turning his full attention back to the essays. “We don't have to talk about it, I guess.” 

“Okay…Well, for what it's worth, I'd prefer to keep you,” Dazai tells him, genuinely and honestly. He hopes Chuuya knows that he isn't fucking with him this time. 

“Alright.” 

After that, they work in silence for what feels like an eternity. Neither of them can find the right way to respond, and how could they when Chuuya dropped a bomb like that?

The longer the silence drags on, the more time it gives for Dazai to stew in his feelings. To remind himself of the change in Chuuya's scent and pair that with his sudden request to transfer… Fuck. 

Chuuya's found another alpha, hasn't he? 

The realization makes his throat a little tighter and his chest a little heavier. He knew this was bound to happen eventually—Chuuya's hot and young and smart… He's probably got a long line of alphas wanting to sweep him off his feet. Dazai is only someone to pass the time, and placeholder until someone better comes along. 

These are feelings he's accepted long before he even met Chuuya. That he's not meant to find someone to settle down with. He's meant to be a single, eccentric university professor who'll eventually be consumed by darkness and doomed by the narrative he's created for himself. 

One day, he really will kill himself. 

He's imagined it before—His class will get the news, and they'll start talking. They'll assume it's another stunt to get them interested in the subject like before. But then…it'll sink in when he really doesn't show up…and when the Dean confirms that they've found his body…

It's a shame that Dazai won't be around to study their reactions when the time comes. 

“Dazai?” 

He inhales sharply as Chuuya's voice suddenly brings him back to reality—a reminder that he's still here for now. As far as he knows, it'll be a long time before he actually carries out those sorts of plans. 

If Chuuya leaves, though…things will seem a little less meaningful. He knows that for sure. But the last thing he wants is for Chuuya to think it's his fault that Dazai committed suicide…So he'd still have to wait a while…

“Hmm?” 

“You just…Spaced out for a minute there,” Chuuya says, quietly. His voice sounds sad, and it almost raises suspicions that he somehow can read Dazai's mind. “Your scent just got weird.” 

“Did it?” Dazai asks, absently. Chuuya nods. 

“I didn't mean to upset you,” Chuuya admits. “I'd still want to…you know, have sex and stuff.” 

“Yeah?” Dazai asks, his heart still not fully back into the conversation. Funny how something so simple can change his entire mood so quickly. “I think we're at a stopping point now, don't you?” 

Chuuya looks down at the stack he's nearly finished with. “I can bring the rest home and finish over the weekend.” 

“Alright,” Dazai tells him. “Are you headed to happy hour now?” 

“Uh, no, I think Junichiro and I are actually going to Yosano’s place tonight to hang out. When it's just the three of us, it's easier that way.”

“Hmm.” 

He waits as Chuuya packs up his belongings, carefully packing the essays into a folder. Before this shift in his mood, he had been planning on asking Chuuya for a blowjob on his way out, but now he just doesn’t quite have the energy for that. 

“Dazai?” Chuuya asks, once he’s standing up, with his bag already slung over his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t wanna leave you here alone if you’re upset.” 

“I’m absolutely sure! Go have fun with your friends, don’t worry about me!” Now Dazai has to force a smile. Thankfully, there’s no way that Chuuya pays half as much attention to the nuances of Dazai’s facial details, as Dazai does to Chuuya’s. How could he notice a smile that never reaches his eyes? 

Chuuya pauses for a moment, like he doesn’t know what to say. Dazai can tell that the omega doesn’t really believe him, but he continues to smile anyway. 

“Alright, well, just text me if you need something, I guess.” 

“I won’t, but thanks,” Dazai grins. 

With that, Chuuya finally leaves, and the silence that’s left behind is all-consuming. 

And suddenly those nagging voices are back, reminding Dazai that Chuuya doesn’t smell right. That he’s probably not off to see his friends—he’s off to spread his legs to other alphas—

“Fuck!” Dazai shouts to noone, hurling one of his textbooks across the room in frustration. 

He’s not sure how he ended up like this. 

This was supposed to be easy.  

He wasn’t supposed to fall for Chuuya. 

Chapter Text

As Chuuya rides the bus to Yosano’s apartment that evening, he still can’t shake the odd feeling from his meeting with Dazai. Everything had been going well—They were being productive and were joking around. 

But as soon as Chuuya suggested switching supervisors, something changed. Dazai's face became unreadable, and his scent had morphed into something that Chuuya couldn't even put a name to. He definitely had strong feelings about what Chuuya was suggesting, but there was no way of discerning what those strong feelings were. 

The scent he gave off was frightening, though. It was the kind of scent that made Chuuya want to cry and wrap Dazai up in the biggest, tightest hug he could offer. But that would have been highly inappropriate, he thinks. So instead he just packed up his things and left. 

By the time arrives at Yosano’s apartment, he still hasn't quite shaken off the weirdness. 

“How was your meeting?” Junichiro asks, once Chuuya's already settled in on Yosano's couch. He makes himself comfortable on one end while Yosano sits on the other and Junichiro sits on the floor. 

“Fine,” Chuuya mumbles. “Just grading essays. Boring shit.” 

“Boring shit? So you mean normal, non-sex stuff?” Yosano teases. He glares at her for a moment, but then caves with a guilty shrug. 

“I can't believe you're still sleeping with him. Aren't you worried you'll get in trouble?” Junichiro asks. 

“Maybe? I've been thinking about switching supervisors for next semester…I don't want to, because I know everyone's gonna think it's just an omega being a damn wimp, but…” he trails off, scowling at the idea of the assumptions people tend to make about omegas. They're stupid. 

“Well yeah, I get that…But if you really like this guy then maybe that's more important?” 

Chuuya nearly chokes on his water. “Who the fuck said anything about liking him?!” 

“No one! I just assumed you did because you're always…you know, having sex with him.” 

Yosano tries and fails to hide her laughter. 

“It's not like that, the sex is good, and that's it.” Chuuya sighs. 

“Yeah, that's it,” Yosano replies sarcastically. Chuuya shoots her a warning look and she lets out an exasperated sigh. “Junichiro is trustworthy, you can tell him.” 

“Tell me what?” 

Chuuya's jaw clenches…she's right. He's already fucking showing and before long it's going to be painfully obvious to anyone who looks at him. Fuck. He can't avoid talking about it forever, and he? 

“I…I'm pregnant,” he grits. 

“Well that makes sense.” 

“The fuck does that mean?” Chuuya wants to know—why doesn't he seem surprised at all? At least pretend to be shocked, dammit! 

“Your scent,” he replies, like it should have been obvious. “I wasn't going to say anything to be polite, but the past week or so it's been a little different.” 

“Dang, really?” Yosano questions. As a beta, she wouldn't have been able to tell either way. “I thought the scent didn't start to change until the third trimester.” 

“That's usually true…but if they're true mates and Dazai really is a prime…”Junichiro gives a casual shrug. 

That explains why Dazai was all weird about his scent, and asking if he was sleeping around. At least he didn't immediately connect the dots. But still…what’s the point in even taking the suppressants the doctor gave him if everyone can smell him anyway?

“Fuck, I still haven't told Dazai yet,” Chuuya admits. “I wanted to wait.” 

“Until when? Until you're in labor?” Yosano teases. “He's going to find out soon, it's probably better that he hears it from you than if he just accidentally finds out you know?” 

She has a point, but the very idea of admitting the truth makes him wanna throw up. 

“Why don't you want to tell him? Is it not his?” Junichiro asks. 

“No, it definitely is. It's just…” he trails off, trying to find the exact words to describe his feelings. It's hard to do when those exact words don't even exist. “I was hoping I'd at least have until the end of the semester… that's only a month and a half away and I'll be at sixteen weeks by then…” 

“You'll be showing by then for sure,” Yosano reminds him. 

“At sixteen weeks?” Junichiro asks. “You might be able to get away with chunky sweaters or something. When my cousin was pregnant, you couldn't even tell until he was almost at six months. Everyone's different, though.”

“I'm having twins,” Chuuya adds, moving his hands to smooth his shirt over his stomach to demonstrate that he's already showing. 

“Has Dazai seen that?” 

“I told him I was feeling bloated,” Chuuya shrugs. “He bought it.” 

“For now,” Yosano reminds him. “You can only call it bloating for so long before it starts to seem deeply concerning.” 

“Ugh, this sucks,” Chuuya groans. 

“Why don't you wanna tell him?” Junichiro asks. And it's an honest question, a fairly reasonable thing to ask. 

But for some reason, Chuuya's eyes fill with tears and his throat tightens, and he can only shake his head. 

“Aww, don't cry—” 

“I'm not fucking crying,” he snaps, rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes. “I don't cry.”

“What are you doing then?” 

“Shut up, fuck, I hate this,” he groans, slouching back against the couch and pulling his knees closer to his face. “It's not my fault that I'm all hormonal and shit!” 

“I know, I know,” Yosano assures him. “We don't have to talk about it, but…you should talk about it. This is a big deal, Chuuya.” 

“I fucking know that,” he scoffs, sitting up again. “I didn't even want to go back to grad school. And now, I'm not even through the first semester and I've got two damn babies on the way! I knew I shouldn’t have come back here!” 

“To be fair, that doesn't usually happen in grad school,” Junichiro points out. “That's a logical fallacy.” 

Chuuya groans louder. 

“Sorry, we had this really good discussion yesterday about fallacies in Kunikida’s ethics course…” 

“Speaking of ethics, I think you need to tell Dazai.” 

“What the hell does that have to do with ethics?” Chuuya mutters. “It's my body the babies are growing in.” 

“Because he put them there? I'm not saying he should get to tell you what to do about it, but he should know that he has kids on the way, right?” 

She's right, and Chuuya knows that she is. It would be pretty shitty to never tell him that he's carrying around half his DNA…

“I'm not sure how I want him to react,” Chuuya finally says. When the words leave his lips, he has this weird sense of satisfaction, like he's finally pinned down the source of his anxiety. “I don't know if I would rather have him reject the idea of fatherhood altogether…or if I would even want him to raise the pups with me.” 

His mind meanders for a bit, and he starts to wonder what it would be like if Dazai responded well. If he were to be excited. He would ask Chuuya how he’s feeling, or ask to feel his belly. 

Maybe he'd be there when Chuuya goes into labor, and cry when he sees his babies for the first time. When the doctors leave the room, Dazai would kiss his cheek and tell him he did so well…they're so beautiful…

Ah, fuck, that's never gonna happen. 

Chuuya wipes at his stupid, leaky eyes again.  

“Are you sure you don't like him?” Junichiro asks again. “At least…If you really didn't like him, you wouldn't care about his reaction. Right?” 

“Don't know,” Chuuya mumbles. He doesn't want to think about it. All he wanted to do was have fun, meaningless sex without having to worry about commitment. Dazai wasn't supposed to turn into someone permanent in his life, and the idea of this potentially turning into something serious is more than just a little daunting. 

“So, when do you find out the sexes?” Yosano asks, thankfully changing the subject away from Dazai when she realizes it's actually causing him distress to talk about. 

“Um, I have an appointment over break,” Chuuya says. “I should find out then.” 

“That's fun,” Junichiro says, with a friendly smile. “We should throw you a baby shower!” 

“Ew, no,” Chuuya scoffs, hating the idea of a bunch of people gathering around him to stare at his pregnant belly. 

“Why not? It's a good way to get all the baby stuff you're doing to need…and you'll need like, twice the diapers.” 

Ugh. They're right about this, too, unfortunately. 

“Baby showers are embarrassing. People can send me gifts if they want, without all the nonsense.”

“The nonsense is how you get the gifts,” Yosano points out. “What are you gonna do once they're born?” 

Chuuya shrugs. “University daycare? It'll be fine.”  

At least he hopes it will be. If he's being honest with himself, he's not sure what any of that is going to look like. He's more or less accepted that he'll be a single parent, but he doesn't have experience with keeping one baby alive and healthy, let alone two. The doctor's office has given him a lot of resources to read up on as far as what to expect, and there are even some courses at the hospital he can take…but he knows it's going to be different once he actually experiences it. 

“Are you not, like, planning ahead?” 

“I'm gonna side with empiricism on this one—I won't know what it's like until I experience it, so what's the point?” He doesn't necessarily agree with his own argument, but starting an argument about reason versus experience in the presence of two other graduate-level philosophy students is a great way to change the subject once and for all. 

Before long, they aren't even talking about pregnancy anymore, and instead end up in a convoluted debate about Immanuel Kant and David Hume. He enjoys these kinds of debates—One where there's really no right answer, but the winner is whoever has the most stamina for a circular argument. And Chuuya could play devil's advocate all day long as a source of entertainment. 

He's never really cared about what other people viewed him as, so he's never had any problem with disagreeing just for the sake of an argument. It's the whole reason he gets along with Dazai so well when it comes to their lectures. Whichever argument Dazai starts to make, Chuuya can throw out a counterpoint in his sleep. 

It's too bad their partnership is bound to end after just one semester. 

Of course Chuuya is the one to bring himself back to thinking about Dazai. To be perfectly honest, as much as he deflects all of his friends’ questions, the truth is that he's almost always thinking about Dazai. 

His scent, his laugh, the way his stupid hair is always in his eyes… 

Chuuya doesn't know which reaction would be the objectively best outcome when he finally gets around to telling Dazai the truth. (He will tell him! Eventually.) 

But he does know that Dazai reacting poorly would break his fucking heart. 

—

Dazai doesn't go out very often. 

He never had that true college life experience when he was younger, and now that his life has settled a bit, it feels pointless to try going out now. Going out and getting drunk with strangers wouldn't bring him any sort of fulfillment or happiness. It certainly wouldn't solve any of his problems. 

That one time that he invited himself along with Chuuya and his friends was more fun than he thought it was going to be. It was great getting to see Chuuya in a different light, and experiencing the way his friends interact with him. They all tease him relentlessly and Chuuya gets so flustered so easily. 

It's cute. 

Dazai has learned that Chuuya is complex. He's bold and kind of rude, but he's also pretty clever. When he pushes people away, it's almost like a challenge to see if people will actually leave. That part might lead someone to believe that Chuuya doesn't like compliments or praise, but the opposite is actually true. Dazai can see it in the way that his eyes sparkle just before his face turns bright red. Chuuya might start yelling and carrying on directly after that, but it's only because he doesn't know what else to say. 

Despite his harsh outer shell, Dazai has believed that Chuuya's been genuine with his feelings. He's never shied away from admitting his physical attraction to Dazai, and he has no problem telling Dazai exactly what he thinks when asks him questions. 

And this is all precisely why it bothers him so much to know that Chuuya is lying to him. 

Logically, Dazai has no right to be angry with Chuuya. They aren't in any semblance of a romantic relationship, and have tirelessly discussed the importance of boundaries. And yet, none of it makes any sense. 

Given their discussions. 

Given Chuuya's affinity for brutal honesty…

Why the fuck would Chuuya be lying to him?!

It makes him angry that he can't figure it out. Based on his experience with Chuuya, Dazai would assume that the omega would shamelessly admit that he's been sleeping around. Dazai wouldn't even have to ask him—Chuuya would tell him! 

The only reason he can think of is that whoever this other guy is, Chuuya cares more about protecting his identity than he does about Dazai's peace of mind. And that definitely doesn't help the war that's raging in his mind. 

Fuck. 

When did he become so damn obsessed? 

It's only been a couple of days since their last meeting and Dazai is already eager to see him. He wonders how he's feeling, if he's having a good day, if he's letting some other asshole fuck him—

He's never felt such an attachment to another person before. Such a visceral need to be close…Maybe Chuuya was right. Maybe it would be better for him to seek another supervising professor going forward. At the rate they're going, Dazai really isn't sure how much longer he can remain professional. 

Still, he hates the idea of Chuuya pairing up with someone else in the department. 

Even now, as he looks across the other faculty members that are gathered around a large conference table for their monthly meeting, Dazai can't think of a single one that would be a better fit for Chuuya. Kunikida is too straight-laced. Dostoevsky is too cold.  Kajii would just piss him off. 

Really, Dazai could go through every single member and find a reason why they simply aren't good enough for Chuuya. 

“You're awfully quiet today.” 

Dazai looks up, eyeing Dostoevsky before realizing that the rest of the room is already clearing out. Fuck, he spaced out again…

“What do you mean?” Dazai plays dumb, already knowing that the other alpha is just trying to draw an argument out of him. It's never anything enjoyable, either. He just enjoys trying with people's weak spots. 

“You're always interrupting or carrying on about something. I've never seen you so… solemn,” he says, punctuation the adjective with an annoying sense of finality. 

“Oh you know how it is with finals coming up,” Dazai sighs. “And you don't have any candidates, so of course you're not feeling the stress just yet.” 

“Is your candidate stressing you out already?” 

Damn. 

“Nah, he's great. It's still work, you know? Anyway, I gotta get back to my own office so I can get ready for my lecture later,” Dazai chuckles and stands up from his seat. It's not a lie—He really does have to get ready for that. He just also doesn't want to talk to Dostoevsky anymore. 

“So it's a personal matter?” Dostoevsky asks. 

“Man, you're really nosey aren't you?” 

The other man just shrugs. “Just showing concern for a fellow colleague, that's all.” 

“Well, isn't that sweet?” Dazai smiles. 

Dazai isn't an idiot, he knows Dostoevsky has had it out for him ever since he joined the faculty. At only twenty-five with a doctorate degree and a best selling book, Dazai was treated like a shiny new toy when he first arrived. From what he's heard from some of the others, Dostoevsky had been trying to get course on death and dying for ages, only for the powers that be to bring Dazai in with a flashy new course as if it had been their idea all along. 

None of that was Dazai's fault, but he still knows better than to trust this guy. 

“I do what I can.” 

“See you later, Dostoevsky,” Dazai finally ends the conversation and walks out of the conference room. He heads down the hall and into his own office, only to find that it's already occupied by yet another nosey colleague. 

“Dostoevsky's right, you are acting weird.” This time, the intruder is Ranpo Edogawa, who teaches the introductory course. He's blunt and most of the students can't stand him, but he has like, ten TAs and has the whole thing down to science. On the other hand, Dazai teaches a niche course that he's an expert in, has one TA that he couldn't restrain himself from sleeping with, and still manages to be exhausted after every single day. 

“Am I?” Dazai shrugs. “Like I said, finals are coming up, it's a stressful time.” 

“I've personally witnessed you getting reamed out for not giving a shit about finals—Why would you be stressed?” Ranpo ponders the question aloud and Dazai sighs. He definitely trusts Ranpo more than he trusts Dostoevsky, but he also really hates talking about his feelings like this. It just feels so pointless. 

That being said, he's also never been so overcome with such ugly emotions before. All he can think about is Chuuya, Chuuya, Chuuya and it's honestly pathetic. Especially now that his thoughts have morphed into Chuuya and who's fucking Chuuya behind his back???

Jeez. 

“My personal life is in shambles,” he sighs, dramatically. “You caught me.” 

“Hmm, I've had the impression that your personal life is always in shambles.” 

“Well that's a little rude…” 

“Something tells me you're…having an affair. Are you even married? No, no, of course you aren't. Still…I'm definitely getting the sense that it has to do with an affair.” 

“What tells you that?” Dazai asks, curiously. He chuckles and sits down next to Ranpo on the couch. “Seriously, am I that obvious?” 

“I knew it,” Ranpo grins. “Lucky for you, I don't actually care about the dirty details, I just wanted to see if I was right.” 

“Perfect,” Dazai says, simply. 

“Just be careful, you don't want to do anything stupid.” Ranpo gives his warning, but doesn't give any indication that he knows more than he lets on. 

“It's a little late for that, but it's still weighing pretty heavily on my mind. I feel like I'm going crazy, you know?” 

“Not really,” he says, very matter-of-factly. “But I know when I'm upset about something, it usually really helps to throw myself into work. You love what you do, don't you?” 

“Some aspects of it, sure,” he says, contemplating. He's not sure if love is the word he'd use to describe how he feels about his job as a university professor. Teaching can be a burden at times, and he hates grading essays (which is why he secretly gave Chuuya the bigger stack of midterm papers.) 

“So, focus on the aspects you do love,” Ranpo suggests. “My favorite part of teaching is when you can tell a student actually understands something. Like they've unlocked a whole new level of learning all because of me.” 

“That's amazing,” Dazai tells him, then ponders his own ideas before sharing. “I think I like that I can use my own book for the course—Makes it easy.” 

“That's not what you love—You just said you think you like it.” Ranpo never misses a damn thing and it's almost annoying. 

“I don't know what to say,” he admits. 

But then his mind flashes to images of Chuuya banging his fist on the podium in the middle of a lecture and shouting at Dazai to shut up and stick to the syllabus. And then the way he puts his hands on his hips when he's making a point; Dazai isn't sure he even realizes he does it, and that's what makes it so much cuter. 

“Well you're thinking about something you love now,” Ranpo points out, tearing him from his thoughts. 

Dazai's smile disappears instantly. 

Little does Ranpo know, the point of this little exercise was to get him to stop focusing on Chuuya. Not to start fixating on him even harder. 

It’s just not fair how pretty he is. 

He’s gorgeous.  

Glowing, even. 

Fuck. 

Whoever this other alpha is—Dazai hates him so much. He wants to kill him. Like, actually kill him with his bare hands because for some reason that feels like the only satisfying way to deal with this situation. 

“What do you think about instincts playing a role in murder? Is it ethical if your instincts cause you to want to kill in order to protect?” 

“Hmm, I say it’s still unethical. It wouldn’t hold up in court. Why? Are you planning on murdering someone? This is exactly what I meant by not doing anything stupid.” 

“This is what you meant?” Dazai scoffs. “You’re something else, Ranpo.” 

“A crime of passion isn't out of the question for you.” 

“No…no, I think I'd rather kill myself than kill anyone else,” Dazai admits. “I haven't thought about it much I guess. Murder, that is.” 

“Okay, well, for the record, I tried to help you and did not encourage murder in any way, shape, or form,” Ranpo groans, finally getting up and heading towards the door. “Good luck with being a homewrecker, I guess.” 

“Thanks, Ranpo!” He smiles wide, waiting until the beta shuts the door behind him, and then finally deflates. His smile disappears and he lays out on the couch, lamenting his own situation. 

It would be so much easier if he didn't care. 

He never meant to care so damn much. 

And now, despite his ever-growing anger at Chuuya for lying to him, he really does want to see him again. The next time he sees him is in about an hour, where they'll join forces for what's sure to be a very interesting lecture. 

Thinking back to Ranpo's question, he supposed he loves debates about controversial topics. When people feel so strongly about something that the discussions get heated and he manages to make an entire lecture hall tense. 

The chapters they've been covering lately have all been about killing—assisted suicide, actual murder, regular suicide—things that they discuss in a logical way, but that people tend to have a very strong feeling about their views being morally correct. 

Today's topic is another one that's always a toss-up of what he's going to get. It seems like the younger generations are open to the idea of choice and such for omegas, but there's always enough of a crowd that isn't. It's tough to lecture about without inserting his own personal feelings, but that's what makes the subject of abortion so interesting. 

That, and he'd love to watch Chuuya tear into some ignorant freshman about bodily autonomy. It really seems like the kind of thing he'd be good at, and it would be very entertaining to watch. 

Chuuya would probably get a kick out of that, too

Chapter Text

This time, Chuuya is the one who's late to the lecture, and he's absolutely mortified as he runs across campus. 

Or, at least he starts to run, but then stops because he hasn't asked his doctor yet if that's safe for the baby. So he slows down and walks at a brisk pace, arriving at the philosophy building only a minute late. But his babies must hate him,  because as soon as he's inside, he has to fucking pee again. 

Dammit…

He weighs the pros and cons but none of that matters when he realizes that he's not about to piss himself in front of everyone. Cursing under his breath, he rushes into the nearest bathroom to relieve himself. 

Just the other day, he ended up calling his doctor, thinking something was wrong. As it turns out, apparently babies like to rearrange their mother's organs as they start to grow, and the bladder gets the brunt of it. (Or, at least for now, that's what it feels like.) 

As soon as he's done, he rushes out of the bathroom and hurries to the lecture hall— 

Only to find that Dazai is only just now getting to the door himself.

“Chuuya running late? I must be imagining things,” Dazai says, with an oddly shaped smile. Right away, Chuuya can tell there's something off about his mood, but this isn't really the time or place to ask him about it. 

“Something came up, sorry,” Chuuya mumbles weakly. “You're late all the time, you can't give me shit about it.” 

“I typically know I can count on you to be there early, so I don't have to rush,” Dazai points out with a lazy shrug. 

“You literally just have to come downstairs, I came from across campus,” Chuuya argues. He doesn't know why he even bothers arguing with him, because it's usually pointless. No matter what he says, Dazai is always clever enough to have something to respond with.

“So…why are you late today?” Dazai asks, getting around to the question Chuuya had been hoping to avoid.

“None of your business,” Chuuya snaps. Maybe it's a little too harsh for such an innocent question, but he's way too embarrassed to tell him he was late because he couldn't stop peeing. (He’d be embarrassed to tell anyone that, though.) 

“I see,” Dazai says, his expression and tone both unsettlingly stiff. His eyes narrow slightly, but he seems to be doing all he can to not react to Chuuya’s answer. That’s not right—Dazai’s supposed to tease him or argue or something. Not just accept his answer in such a cagey way.

“Just…Some health issues. I don’t wanna talk about it,” he murmurs, averting his eyes. Dazai continues to look at him with that absent gaze, and Chuuya can’t stand it. His stupid instincts make him wanna fawn and cry over the alpha giving him such a mildly uncaring look. What the hell would his instincts have him do if Dazai were to actually be mad at him? At this rate, he’d surely combust. 

“Are you sick again? I didn’t realize you had such a weak immune system,” Dazai says, his voice slightly warmer, but he still doesn’t sound like his typical light-hearted self. It makes Chuuya nervous—Does he somehow see right through him? Junichiro said he could sense a growing change in Chuuya’s scent, and if he could, then that means Dazai definitely could. 

The only saving grace here is that a change in scent could mean any number of things. It doesn’t have to be pregnancy. But he’d mentioned noticing it before, which only means he’s going to start growing suspicious if it changes too much or gets too intense. There’s a slight possibility that a prime alpha would be able to deduce pregnancy instinctually by scent, but it’s not that likely. He’d have to already know what Chuuya’s specific pregnancy pheromones smell like.

He’s probably fine. 

End of the semester, right after finals, will be the perfect time to tell him. 

Just…not right now. 

“I guess I do, I never really thought about it,” Chuuya replies, being purposely facetious. “What, is it a crime to be sickly now?” 

“You're being awfully defensive, Chuuya,” Dazai says, and it sounds like an accusation. Maybe it is.  

“Well, you’re being absolutely ridiculous for no reason,” Chuuya says, finally pushing past him to open the damn door to the lecture hall—

Only to find that the place is mostly cleared out for some reason. Chuuya knits his eyebrows in concern, scanning the rows until he notices Atsushi, who’s packing up and ready to head out himself. What the hell is going on?

“Hey!” Chuuya says, pointing right at him. He jumps and his eyes widen, like he’s been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. “Where the hell is everyone going?” 

“Ah, w-well, someone said that if you were more than fifteen minutes late, it meant that class was canceled,” Atsushi says, his face draining of color as he scrambles to sit back down. “Y-you’re here now, so I guess you’re gonna get started? Ha ha ha…I wasn’t leaving!” 

“No, they’re right,” Dazai sighs, finally joining Chuuya at the front of the room. He doesn’t make any effort to make any of the undergrads stay back for their lecture. All he does is stand there, deflated, until the room clears of even Atsushi. 

“What the hell, you could have made them stay,” Chuuya says to him once they’re alone. Not that he couldn’t use a break. (Specifically another bathroom break because holy shit, he has to pee again.) But he also feels extra wary of being alone with Dazai when things are starting to get weird  like this. Is he going to keep hounding him with questions? Is he going to keep acting so fucking paranoid?!

“Not really, it’s university policy,” Dazai says, with a small shrug. “Too bad, I was really looking forward to this lecture.” 

Chuuya frowns. “Why?” 

“I find abortion to be both fascinating and relevant,” he says, simply. 

In any normal circumstance, Chuuya would be up for a heated conversation about something like this because it is culturally relevant, and he has very strong opinions about the topic. But his hormonally imbalanced brain can only parse out the fact that Dazai thinks the topic is relevant, and when that processes for him, he jumps to the most wild conclusion:

Dazai fucking knows he’s pregnant AND he wants him to get an abortion! 

“Guess you’re just going to have to deal with disappointment, then,” Chuuya spits out, his fingers shaking as he balls them into fists. His heart races in his chest and the heat rises in his face as he desperately tries to keep his emotions under control. 

It’s just that it’s so fucking hard to do when he’s got so much going on. On top of everything he does for Dazai’s course, he has his own classes and finals to worry about, his stupid thesis to perfect, and his body is changing every damn day and it’s stressing him the fuck out. It’s not fair—Everything just keeps happening to him all at once and he can’t seem to catch a fucking break. 

He shouldn’t have decided to go back to school. 

He should have dealt with what he already had in life, he shouldn’t have bothered with trying to go above and beyond. It’s his fault for going outside his comfort zone, right? Now, instead of working a minimum-wage job at a place that he hates, he’ll be making only a little more than that at a job he likes only a little bit more, with the additional responsibility of two infants in the very near future. 

“Why are you crying?” Dazai asks, looking rightfully perplexed. 

“Fuck you,” Chuuya can’t help but say. “If you knew, you should have just said something. I’ve been losing my shit trying to figure out what to say to you and you’ve been messing with my fucking head all along.”

Dazai’s eyes only widen, like he genuinely isn’t sure what the fuck Chuuya is talking about. 

“Chuuya, if this is about whoever you’ve been seeing, it doesn’t need to be this big of a deal. Just be honest like any other decent human would and we’ll move on.” Dazai folds his arms over his chest, and it’s Chuuya’s turn to give him an incredulous look, because now he’s the one who’s confused. What the hell does he think Chuuya is talking about? How many times has he told this idiot that he isn’t seeing someone behind his back?!

“I told you I’m not sleeping with anyone else! Why are you being such an idiot about all of this? We’re not even dating— You were the one who insisted we weren’t. It was all your stupid idea.” 

“If you’re not, then what the hell are you so upset about?! I can’t fucking read your mind, Chuuya!” 

Chuuya startles; he’s never heard Dazai raise his voice like that before. And for some reason, hearing him do it now, of all times, feels really fucking devastating. Chuuya’s lips tremble, and he can’t stop the fat, wet tears that roll down his cheeks. 

“I’m…I’m pregnant, ” Chuuya chokes. 

As soon as the words leave his lips, the entire world feels like it slows to a stop. 

He just said it out loud. He really said it. 

And now Dazai isn't saying anything. 

Why isn’t Dazai saying anything??

The alpha just stares at him, not blinking, not even a twitch in his expression. It’s like he’s totally unfazed or unaffected by Chuuya’s shocking admission. He never fully considered all of the possible outcomes, apparently. Complete acceptance and utter rejection were the only two possibilities he’d prepared himself for. 

But this… 

…What the hell is he supposed to do with this?

Dazai doesn’t seem to react at all. He just stands there, staring back at Chuuya with no reaction. Not a single sliver of an indication that maybe he has any sort of feeling about the situation. 

“Did you not hear me?” Chuuya chokes back another sob. 

“I…I heard you,” Dazai says, though it sounds like he struggles to get the words out. 

“It’s yours.”

“Okay,” Dazai says, almost defensively. 

Chuuya wants to scream.  

“Okay? Just okay? That’s all you have to fucking say?” Chuuya manages to say, his nerves suddenly boiling into rage. He's standing here, pouring his heart out, clearly distressed, and the alpha who helped him into the situation has absolutely nothing to say.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Dazai asks, sounding far too calm and uncaring about the whole thing. Does he even care? Does he spend so much time thinking about death that he can't even fathom new life? 

“I don't—What the hell! I don't need you to do anything about it! You can't just react like a normal fucking person?” Chuuya doesn't even care about the free-flowing, angry tears anymore. Nothing fucking matters, apparently! 

Dazai looks away for a moment, then turns back to Chuuya. “Did you really think we'd be celebrating?” 

“What? No, I just—” Chuuya scrambles, doing anything he can to insist that he's okay, that he doesn't fucking care if Dazai doesn't want them. 

If he doesn't want Chuuya, either. 

Chuuya can take care of them on his own, he doesn't need this selfish asshole getting in his way! This is for the best—This is what he wanted to happen. 

So why does it hurt so fucking much? 

“I don't see why it has to concern me. Keep it or don't keep it, it's not my decision to make anyway,” Dazai tells him. 

“I fucking know that. I'm keeping them. Both of them,” Chuuya snaps. Hell if this bastard gets to think it was his idea to “let” Chuuya keep his babies. 

For just a moment, he swears there's a flash of some sort of emotion in Dazai's eyes, but if there is, it's fleeting. Gone as soon as it arrives. 

“You've been so fucking weird about my scent lately, well this is why. I'm not seeing any other alphas. I'm pregnant with your damn pups.” Chuuya says, his confidence quickly returning along with his rising anger. 

“And yet you didn't say anything sooner,” Dazai counters. 

“Well clearly it doesn't fucking matter because you don't give a shit either way! Fuck you. You want me to sleep with only you, but the second things get a little too serious, you take it back.” 

“I was only curious because I wanted to know if I was going to catch an STD from an omega that likes to whore around,” Dazai argues, his words shockingly cold and demeaning. 

Chuuya glares back at him, quickly realizing that he isn't going to get anything out of him no matter how much he makes a scene. 

Well. He's not going to give him the satisfaction any longer. 

“I should have just fucking stabbed you that day.” 

Without another glance, Chuuya storms out of the lecture hall as quickly as he can. 

Mostly because he doesn't want Dazai to see the way he starts to sob.

—

Dazai blinks, slowly. 

And the next thing he knows, it's Friday evening, and he's sitting alone in his office at his desk. He's been trying to get work done, he really has, but his head has been in this awful funk all week. 

It's like he's just been going through the motions, sitting outside of his own body and frozen in time like he's still waiting for Chuuya to follow up with a punchline to the most fucked up joke in human history. Because that…that can't be real, can it? 

When Chuuya finally admits that he made it all up, that he was just joking, Dazai can start to feel like less of an asshole for the things he said that day. 

Chuuya was so angry. 

He gets mad easily, but Dazai has never seen him quite like that before. The hurt in his eyes was far too real for it to all be a fucked up joke, though. Dazai saw the way his hands shook, the way his lips trembled. 

The clock on the wall strikes the next hour, and Dazai lets out a deep sigh. 

Stupidly, he had wondered if Chuuya would show up for their meeting. Maybe by the time he saw him again, he'd think of a way to apologize for acting like an asshole. The truth is, though, even if Chuuya walked right through that door in the next five seconds, Dazai still wouldn’t know what to say to him. 

He still doesn’t know what to think about the situation. 

About how Chuuya is pregnant.

Obviously, it makes sense given their blatant lack of protection. The way Chuuya had been so open and willing, Dazai just assumed somewhere in the back of his mind that he was on some sort of birth control. At the heart of it, he didn’t think twice about any of it, actually. Every time he’s had sex with the omega, he’s been so fully enchanted by his scent, his pheromones…Nothing else ever seemed to matter in those moments. 

And now Chuuya’s entire life is changing because Dazai wasn’t responsible. 

Sure, he could blame Chuuya for not stopping him. He was more than willing to participate in all of their activities. 

It’s so much easier for Dazai to blame himself, though. 

Someone knocks on the door to his office and Dazai nearly falls out of his chair as he scrambles to answer it. Did he really decide to show up? Is he going to give Dazai another chance at a real conversation? Maybe—

Any hope he has is squashed when he opens the door to, not Chuuya, but the Department Chair, Fukuzawa. 

“Oh, hey,” Dazai says, lifelessly. 

“We need to talk,” he says, inviting himself inside. 

Dazai shuts the door behind him and turns around. He doesn’t ever stop by to check in unless something’s wrong, and given the current situation, Dazai can only assume the worst. 

“I just finished meeting with your candidate, Nakahara Chuuya,” he tells him, point-blank. 

“And?” 

“I know it’s late in the semester, but I’m making a swap. I’ll be adding Nakahara to Ranpo’s Philosophy 100 team, and he happened to have a candidate who was more than willing to take Nakahara’s place with you.” 

Dazai stares on, confused by the way it’s all happening so quickly—and how none of it involves any sort of repercussions for fucking his candidate pregnant.  He thought for sure that Fukuzawa showing up would mean that Chuuya’s turned him in and this is his way of getting back at him. 

“Why’s that?” Dazai asks anyway. 

“Did you know that he’s expecting?” 

All of the color drains from Dazai’s face in an instant. For some reason, when Fukuzawa says it, it sounds a hell of a lot more absolute. The coffin is officially nailed shut, and there is no way out.

“Y-yeah,” he admits, lowering his eyes. 

Well. 

He deserves whatever he has coming to him, and he’ll take whatever punishment is doled out to him.

“Well, he insisted that it had nothing to do with you or your class, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Fukuzawa chuckles. “But with the way the lectures and discussion sections are scheduled, Ranpo’s course works better with his own. He’s determined to finish his course work, we just figured this was the easiest way to lighten the load.” 

“Right,” Dazai whispers. 

None of that makes him feel better at all, though. 

He should have ratted him out, reported him to the dean. 

Hell, Dazai wouldn’t have even put up a fight if Chuuya had decided to lie and say it was rape. 

“Who’s the new candidate?” Dazai asks, trying not to have any reaction one way or another. He doesn’t want Fukuzawa to notice that he’s devastated. 

“Akutagawa Ryuunosuke,” he says. The name doesn’t ring any bells, not that any of the names from Ranpo's team would. “He says he’s a fan of your work and was disappointed he wasn’t placed with you initially.” 

“Is that so?” Dazai hums. “I don’t know if I want to deal with a fan boy.” 

“Unfortunately, you don’t get much of a choice. Part of your agreement with the university is that you’ll supervise at least one candidate a semester,” Fukuzawa reminds him. 

“Yes, I remember,” Dazai grits. “It’s just a shame that it didn’t work out with Chuuya…he’s a good candidate.” 

“Well, I’m sure Ranpo will appreciate his diligence.” 

He almost smiles at the idea of Ranpo bossing Chuuya around, but there’s nothing about this situation that makes him happy.  

“I wanted to let you know before you head out tonight. Akutagawa should be getting in touch with you sometime this weekend about the transition and send you his thesis proposal.” It’s all very formal and matter-of-fact from there on out. 

Because it’s official. 

As in, Chuuya has officially cut him off and broken ties. 

Dazai fucked up, and there’s no going back. 

Chapter Text

cw: past suicide attempts (stop @ “For starters, he knows that he'd be an absolutely terrible father.” to skip over) 

As horrifyingly embarrassing as it is to admit, Chuuya has pretty much cried himself dry by the time the weekend is over. He hasn’t left his apartment—He even rejected Yosano’s and Junichiro’s repeated offers to come over and keep him company. But he just isn’t ready to talk about any of it. 

Dazai’s rejection hurt way more than he ever thought it would; he still can’t wrap his head around how someone could be so cold and seemingly heartless over something like this. Regardless of whether or not he actually wanted the babies…he didn’t even ask if Chuuya was okay.

He’s carrying two damn babies, and their father doesn’t even give a shit. 

Despite telling himself time and time again that he was not romantically interested in Dazai (only sexually!), he can’t stop thinking about all the time they’d spent together before everything blew up in their faces. Dazai was rarely cold and uncaring. He was aloof and strange, yeah, but he was also calm and kind and silly. As much as he hates to admit it, he actually liked being around Dazai. 

But right now, he's the absolute last person Chuuya wants to see. It's possible that he acted rashly, that maybe there was another option better than switching advisors immediately . However, Chuuya is not in a position where he can leave something like that to chance. 

He can't see Dazai. He just can't.

So he told some white lies. 

Dr. Fukuzawa seemed sympathetic to the idea that a single omega mother-to-be needed to be able to make it to his doctor's appointments without having to rush. Chuuya didn't even mention that he already knew the course schedule, and that this one would make it the least likely that he and Dazai would cross paths throughout the day. 

 Though, the reality is that his new course fucking sucks.  

Ranpo Edogawa is a brilliant professor, but holy fuck, he makes Dazai’s class about death and dying seem warm and fuzzy by comparison. He has a team of five candidates as teaching assistants, all in different stages of their candidacy, three separate lectures throughout the week (Only one of which Chuuya has to attend), and each candidate takes on a smaller group of undergrads for a weekly discussion section that Chuuya can hold virtually. It’s a very complex system that Ranpo has down to a science. 

“This is our shared office space, you can take the desk in the corner; Akutagawa should have cleared all of his stuff out already,” Ranpo tells him as he leads him into what looks like another cohort office–Just like the one he shares with Yosano and Junichiro. 

“Oh, um, I already have an office,” Chuuya tells him. 

“You had an office. This is where you’ll work from now on,” Ranpo tells him. “Everything works so much better if we’re all in one space.” 

“Oh, okay,” he says, feeling mildly disappointed that he’s going to have to leave Yosano and Junichiro. Even though they didn’t do a lot of hanging out and chatting in that office, it was always nice to see them while he was working. Normally, he might push back and argue a bit more, but he’s not really in a position where he can do that. If he has to get bossed around by a nerdy beta that’s almost as short as he is, then that’s what he’ll have to do. 

Anything to avoid seeing him.  

“I take it you haven’t cleaned out your old space yet? Well, you should go do that now while you have time. Lecture is in an hour and I really, really hate it when people are late,” he explains. He sure doesn’t waste any energy on trying to sugar coat things. Chuuya isn’t sure yet if he appreciates that, or if he finds it annoying as fuck. 

“Yeah, I’ll go do that,” Chuuya sighs. “Thanks for being able to make this switch last-minute, by the way. I really appreciate it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. And just so you know, I’m only accommodating you as much as I legally have to—Don’t expect sympathy points from me just because you’re pregnant,” he scoffs. Chuuya bites down on the inside of his cheek, trying not to notice the way a couple of the other candidates in the room look up when they hear Ranpo’s comment. (Along with the zero effort he’d put into keeping his voice down.) 

“Nakahara?” 

Oh no. 

God, no.

It’s bad enough having the fucking department chair knowing he’s pregnant—In the blink of an eye, the whole fucking world knows and Chuuya doesn’t like it one bit—But now Kouyou knows and is probably ready to pounce and rub it in. 

“So you know Kouyou?” Ranpo asks, making the connection as the beta gets up from her desk and hurries over to them. “That’s good—Kouyou’s a good student. Well, I’ll leave you to it… Don’t be late for my lecture, got it?” 

“I won’t,” Chuuya sighs, before reluctantly facing Kouyou. 

“I heard Akutagawa was switching places with someone, but I never imagined it was going to be you,” she says, incredulously. “I thought you and Dr. Dazai got along well?” 

Chuuya grimaces at the sound of his name, remembering that she unfortunately had to be there that night that he tagged along for happy hour. They’d been on good terms then, and Chuuya had only just found out he was pregnant. 

“It’s got nothing to do with him,” he lies, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “It’s a scheduling issue.” 

“Yeah? Did I hear Ranpo right? Are you really…?” she asks, her eyes involuntarily traveling to his stomach. It’s not like she’d be able to tell just looking at him, but he still frowns and pulls the sides of his jacket tighter around his middle. 

“Pregnant? Yeah, so what?” he mutters. “It’s no one’s business but my own, thanks.” 

“Congratulations,” she offers, giving him a weirdly warm smile. And it's only weird because he's not expecting it at all. “How far along are you?” 

He gives her an odd look and steps back slightly. “You’re being weird, I don’t like it. Shouldn’t you be getting on a soapbox right about now and telling me how I suck at planning my life and asking me how I plan on finishing grad school like this?” 

Because that’s definitely what he’d want to know if he were Kouyou. 

“No, no, not with something like this,” Kouyou shakes her head. “I’m a mother, too, you know.” 

He stares at her in disbelief. 

“Shit, really?” Chuuya blurts, not meaning to sound so genuinely shocked. She gives him a slight smile and nods. “When the hell did that happen?” 

“It was after graduation,” she tells him. Chuuya waits as she pulls out her phone and scrolls for a few seconds before finding a picture to show him. “This is Kyouka. She just turned two last month.” 

He blinks at the picture of the toddler on the screen; a little girl with dark hair and eyes just like Kouyou’s. 

“She’s adorable,” Chuuya swallows.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Kouyou tells him. He can tell by her face and her voice just how much she loves her daughter, and he hopes that others will be able to see the same in him once his babies are born. For the first time, he actually wonders if crossing paths with Kouyou again might be a blessing in disguise. 

(He's still a determinist! This only seems like fate.)

“That’s amazing…Um, I’m at twelve weeks now,” Chuuya swallows, and hopes she doesn’t do the math on that one and start asking weird questions. “With twins.” 

“Twins! Wow, that’s…That’s wild, Nakahara,” she chuckles. “Well, I know that Ranpo isn’t very warm in that regard, but if you need anything, just let me know, and I’ll do what I can to help.” 

Chuuya wants to gag and tell her that he’d rather die than ask for her help, but somehow he’s able to stop himself before he does. Instead he just gives her a genuine smile and nods. “Thanks, I appreciate it.” 

She shows him a few more pictures of her daughter before Chuuya has to leave to go clear out his old desk. It’s wild to think that Kouyou has a daughter and he never even knew about her. Then again, he never allowed himself to get close enough to her to know anything personal about her life. 

It’s funny how, despite how determined he is to decide his own future, fate keeps setting him up with people he never dreamed would be so important to him. 

He heads down the hall to his old office space, only to find that all of his junk is already haphazardly thrown into a box in the middle of the conference table. 

“Alright, who the hell touched my shit?” Chuuya growls, eyes darting around the mostly empty room. Yosano looks up from her screen and gives him an awkward grin, nodding towards someone behind him. He spins around to find who he can only assume is this Akutagawa asshole that’s going to be taking his place. The guy wears all black, has pale skin, and looks like he's permanently scowling. 

But Chuuya doesn't give a fuck what he looks like. 

“Hey, who the hell said you could touch my shit?” Chuuya yells, marching over and crossing his arms over his chest. As he gets closer, he realizes something that feels mildly concerning, even though it shouldn't be. 

Akutagawa is an omega.  

Dazai has another omega—

“You!” Akutagawa says, his eyes widening as he turns to Chuuya. 

He's pretty sure the guy's looking for a fight, and pregnant or not, Chuuya is pretty sure he could take him. 

“You were Dr. Dazai’s candidate, right?” he asks, sounding a little more shaken up than Chuuya is expecting. “Please give me any advice you have for his course—What are his expectations? What does he like?” 

Chuuya's nostrils flare as he realizes that Akutagawa is looking for tips on how to impress Dazai. He's trying to take your alpha! 

He holds his breath for a moment, reminding himself not to give into his crazy instincts. This is the longest he's gone without seeing Dazai or getting any of his scent…It's to be expected that his instincts are going to go a little haywire. (He'll have to remember to pick up that stupid prescription.) 

“Why are you so eager to please, huh?” Chuuya scoffs, attempting to brush him off. With a huff, he turns around and moves to pick up the box on the conference table. “Whatever, don't touch my stuff ever again. I'm leaving.” 

“I'm a fan of his work—I was hoping to have him as a supervisor from the beginning, and somehow fate has rewarded my patience with this opportunity,” he explains. 

Chuuya stares at him for a moment, considering his words and blocking out the part of his brain that wants to scream at this other omega for making moves towards his—  

“I got in early to prepare, I was actually hoping to run into you before you went to Ranpo’s lecture. I will be eternally grateful for any advice you can share.” 

Chuuya has absolutely no reason to dislike this guy. He's a stranger who just happened to be able to switch out with him in a time when he really needed it. Hell, he should be thanking him for paving his way out of a very uncomfortable situation. 

Maybe he can blame his attitude on the pregnancy hormones for the way he twitches in response. He should help him; it’s a decent thing to do. But he also really doesn’t want to. 

“I don't know what to tell you. Make sure you're good at dodging sharp objects.” 

“Oh, I am.” 

Well, that wasn’t the answer he was hoping for. 

“R-right…Anyway, I have to go now,” Chuuya takes the odd lull in conversation to finally grab the box and duck out of the office. He takes it back upstairs, then picks up what he needs and heads right back into the hallway so he can find the lecture hall. 

The elevator seems to take forever to come today, and Chuuya is still pretty early, but he's also antsy. When he finally gets in, he darts in quickly and presses the button to get the door to close. 

Until someone's hand suddenly slips in, preventing it from closing. 

“Whew, just in time, thanks—” 

That voice fills his ears with static, and the next thing he knows, their door is sliding open to reveal Dazai of all people. 

Chuuya stiffens, not sure what to say. What the hell is he doing here so early? He's never on campus before noon! 

“Sorry,” Dazai says, and takes a step back, letting the elevator doors close between them once more. 

He had been so startled by the alpha's sudden presence that he'd forgotten to notice whether or not he seemed distressed. Whether he was disappointed to see Chuuya, or simply felt like giving him space. It leaves his chest feeling both heavy and empty at the same time. 

He places a hand over his stomach protectively, involuntarily. 

Ding!

As soon as the doors open again, Chuuya manages to collect himself just enough to stride into Ranpo's lecture unbothered. The hall is mostly empty, aside from Kouyou and a couple of other candidates setting up. When Kouyou sees him, he looks up and waves him down. 

“Hey,” Chuuya says. 

There's a podium at the front of the room, right in the center. On either side, the candidates are sitting at long tables that face the lecture hall. It vaguely reminds Chuuya of a courtroom. 

“You can sit here,” she tells him, motioning to the empty chair next to her own. Chuuya sits down and glances around at the other TAs getting ready. 

“So how does this work?” Chuuya asks. 

“Well, what did you do for Dr. Dazai's class?” Kouyou asks him. He hates that even hearing his name is enough to make his chest a little tighter. 

“Uh, usually he'd do something to piss me off on purpose and then we'd argue the entire time. He liked debates and stuff,” Chuuya explains, coming as close as he can to providing a structure to that class. Because there really was no structure. If Chuuya hadn't been there to keep him on track, Dazai would just use up his time to talk about whatever the hell he wanted to. 

Atsushi’s definitely going to fail the course now that Chuuya isn't there. 

“Yikes, well, don't interrupt Ranpo, and definitely don't argue with him,” Kouyou warns. “We're here to take notes and help him with technical difficulties.” 

“Technical difficulties?”Chuuya raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah…Ranpo's a genius but he still can't figure out how to work a powerpoint presentation,” Kouyou explains. “He hates technology.” 

“Got it so…I just sit here? And wait to get called on for IT?” Chuuya scoffs. It sounds awful, and for another split second he actually misses the excitement of Dazai's class. 

“I can see why they switched you to Ranpo's course. There's a lot more sitting and a lot fewer knives getting thrown at you.” 

“You heard about that?” 

“Everyone did,” Kouyou chuckles. “He had like, seventeen reports from undergrads in the course that day.” 

Chuuya blinks. He had no idea anyone had reported him over that little stunt. He genuinely thought that it was directed at Chuuya, and that Chuuya was only mad about it for personal reasons. 

“Shit, I didn't know.” 

“I heard he's on thin ice with the president. One more screw up and they'll give his course to someone else or revoke his tenure.” 

“How do you know all this?” Chuuya asks her. 

“The department isn't that big. People talk,” she grins. It only gives Chuuya a deep, sinking feeling, though. 

It makes him realize that if the wrong person found out about what he and Dazai had been up to…that might be it for him. And even though he's sure he hates the guy and wants him to rot, he doesn't really like the idea of him losing everything because of Chuuya. 

—

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke is a good student. He listens and heeds every word that Dazai speaks. Hell, he basically has Dazai's book committed to memory and can quote it on the spot without even looking for the page. 

Dazai hates it. 

This was the exact reason he never wanted a TA to begin with. The idea of someone kissing his ass just to get a good recommendation seemed disingenuous and really, really annoying. 

“Dr. Dazai, I got the copies you asked for,” Akutagawa says, bursting into his office on a Friday night. He was half an hour early to their meeting, and Dazai wasn't prepared to entertain him just yet. 

“Perfect, thanks! Just set them on the table there,” Dazai says, feigning exuberance. 

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Akutagawa asks. “Though, whenever you're ready, I would greatly appreciate feedback on my thesis proposal—” 

“So I've read the thesis—Definitely. I've definitely read it—And I don't know, I think I need more time to mull it over and really put my thoughts together,” He sighs dramatically. 

He hasn't read the thesis proposal. 

Hasn't even opened the document Akutagawa emailed him last week. 

“Oh, absolutely take your—” 

Thankfully, Akutagawa is interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“I'll get it,” he insists, and Dazai just shrugs, watching as the omega pulls open the door to reveal Atsushi . Dazai’s lips curl into a grin as a sinister idea forms in his mind. 

“Hi, I tried to reach out about office hours, but I didn't realize Chuuya wasn't our TA anymore, so I wasn't sure who to ask, but I really need help,” Atsushi says, rambling on and sounding genuinely distressed. 

“I'm your TA now,” Akutagawa tells him. “But unfortunately I'm busy at the moment, I need to—” 

“Actually, this is perfect, you see, Atsushi is one of my favorite students—” 

“I am?” 

“—And he needs all the help he can get,” Dazai admits, mildly amused by the way Atsushi immediately deflates. “Surely someone smart and capable such as yourself, Akutagawa, can see to it that he passes his finals.” 

Akutagawa gives the other omega an odd, sideways glance. “But my thesis—” 

“I said I'm still thinking about it. We can reconvene next week. For now, I would greatly appreciate it if you'd help out little Atsushi here.” 

“But this is our meeting time…” Akutagawa says, sounding vaguely disappointed. 

“I assure you that this,” he pauses to gesture vaguely in Atsushi’s direction, “is a much more pressing matter than anything else I'd have to talk to you about.” 

Akutagawa looks like he wants to argue or protest, but can't find it in himself to defy Dazai's wishes. Boring! 

“Very well, I'll do it,” he says, picking up his things and then turning to Atsushi. “You. Follow me.” 

His tone towards Atsushi is much more cold and unforgiving, and Dazai feels a slight pang of guilt for sticking them with each other, but not enough to change his mind. Instead he just gives them a slight little wave as they leave his office. 

Once he's alone, he lets out a tired sigh and leans back in his desk chair. 

Friday nights used to be his favorite. 

Chuuya would waltz right in at six and plop himself right down on the couch like he owned the place. He'd keep them both on track to get their work done, and if they still had time left, they'd mess around. 

When he'd ran into Chuuya at the elevators the other day, it was jarring to say the least. It had been only two weeks since they had seen each other, and the omega’s scent had hit him like a freight train. 

Warm. Vanilla. 

Now he knows that that new note of something cream-like wasn't just his imagination. He was just completely wrong about why it was changing. 

That it's different because Chuuya is pregnant. 

They had sex, and now there are babies growing inside of him. It's a little ironic that they met every week to talk about death and somehow managed to create new life. 

Dazai has thought about apologizing, he really has. Anything to get the two of them at least on speaking terms again. He doesn't know how to make it better, though. Chuuya was so angry, and if Dazai were in his shoes, he'd never forgive him. 

So yeah, he's giving the omega some space. Maybe once things cool off, they could reconnect. 

Once finals are over, they'll have a couple of weeks off for break, and then resume in January. If he plays his cards right, then Dazai is pretty sure he can come up with a way to ease himself back into Chuuya's life. 

The only thing that will inevitably hold him back, though, is that he doesn't truly believe he deserves to have a place in Chuuya's life. 

What would the outcome of that even be? A romantic relationship? A platonic co-parenting partnership? Both of those things would involve Chuuya allowing Dazai to be a part of their twins’ lives, and Dazai just can't see that happening. 

For starters, he knows that he'd be an absolutely terrible father.

He's spent so much of his own life contemplating death that he even wrote a book about it. Everyone who's read it thinks he's clever, curious, just wants to start a philosophical conversation about the human experience…not that he's speaking from his own personal experience. 

The first time he tried to commit suicide, he was only nine. He did some research, but didn't study hard enough, and ended up slipping from his homemade noose and broke his arm. His parents, who were still alive at the time, were an absolute wreck. 

They asked him why and how could he do this and what could they have done differently? At nine years old, he felt bad for his parents, he didn't want them to think it was their fault, so it was a while before he tried anything else. 

When he was thirteen, he slit his own wrists, but his mother walked in on him before he lost enough blood. 

That time, their reaction was different. 

They were angry. He should have learned from the last time, he had so much to be grateful for, they couldn't believe how selfish he was. 

And not that he did it because of their reaction, but he found it oddly fascinating. That was what really jump started his obsession with death and dying—He read books and journal articles about the subject, and it consumed him in almost every aspect of his life. In an ironic turn of events, his hyperfixation on the subject of death is ultimately what saved his life. 

Ironically, the first time he attended a funeral was after his parents died—it was a horrible car accident that Dazai was “lucky to have survived.” People he never even met showed up to give their condolences, and told him how brave he was. They didn't know the first thing about him, just assumed he was brave, assumed he was holding back tears or barely hanging on. 

That day was supposed to be the worst day of his life, and a day that stopped him in his tracks so he could take the time to grieve. Everyone he knew told him that he could slow down, take it easy because everyone would understand if he needed that grace period. And yet, he didn't shed a single tear. Instead, he threw himself into his studies, graduated from high school at sixteen, and published his book during his third year of college. He got his Ph.D. at twenty-three, and his job as a professor at twenty-five. 

The only reason he never attempted suicide after his parents died was simple: He kept himself so busy that he didn't have time to. 

In comparison to earlier times, he's doing well now. He has more than one source of income, a nice home, and a stable job. On paper, he's well-prepared for raising pups, he's just never considered it as a remote possibility. 

It's always been inevitable, in his mind, that he'd one day return to that familiar place of darkness, where he'd make an honest attempt at his own life again. 

Now that he thinks about it, raising pups still might not be a possibility. If Chuuya wants nothing to do with him, doesn't want him near the kids, then he'll respect that. It's for the best anyway. 

How could he possibly take care of another human life, when he cares so little for his own? 

Chapter Text

Noticing the changes in his own body is such a perplexing experience for Chuuya. Everything feels like it’s the same until one day he walks past a mirror at just the right angle and realizes his stomach is bigger or his nipples are darker. 

He starts to undress before his morning shower when he happens to actually look at himself in the mirror, and he actually gasps out loud. For the longest time, it felt like he’d never get past this phase of looking bloated, now it feels like he’s blinked and all of a sudden his stomach is actually rounding out. Curious, he runs a hand over his belly, feeling how firm and tight the skin is. Leading up to this moment, he assumed he would absolutely dread the day that his bump would become more obvious, but right now he can’t stop smiling at the idea. 

Even as he showers, he can’t stop touching his belly, proud and excited, like he can see his twins here with him. They’re still inside for like, five more months at least, but with his stomach like this, he really feels like he can hold them already. 

This entire time, he had been prepared to find creative ways to cover up so that he could keep his pregnancy a secret, but at this point, everyone in the department already knows. (They just don’t know who the father is, and Chuuya plans on keeping it that way.) 

Instead of opting for an oversized sweater today, he digs through his drawer to find a fitted, long-sleeve shirt. Thankfully, if he opts for pants with a lower rise and a bit of stretch, they fit without being too tight or uncomfortable, but he still makes a mental note to look into maternity options. (And he'll have to get creative with what he finds because most of the maternity clothes he's seen are so not Chhuya's style.)

Once he's dressed, he inspects himself in the mirror, turning side to side and smiling at the way he looks. He runs his hands over his stomach smoothing out his shirt to further accentuate the shape, his chest fluttering with a weird sense of pride. 

And then, as if right on cue, his stomach lurches and Chuuya makes a mad dash for the bathroom again. 

He hates to admit it, but his morning sickness has returned in full force ever since he cut himself off from Dazai. It sucks, but thankfully the meds help him to not be completely out of commission. As per Dr. Mori's instructions, he takes it at the first sign of nausea, and it helps. 

It's just not the same. 

Dazai's scent helped him more than he ever realized. It kept his symptoms in check, it kept his pheromones under control. Now, he's forced to wear a collar to block his scent glands because he's already past the first trimester and the chemical scent blockers are apparently not “pregnancy safe.” It works, but it does seem pretty fucked up that his only option is to wear something around his neck while he's also feeling nauseous. 

Within the hour, he's back on campus, powering up his laptop to work on an assignment for Professor Kunikida’s class. The worst part about going into finals week is that on top of dealing with the undergrads and their finals, he also has his own to worry about. 

“Morning,” Kouyou says to him as soon as she enters the room. Realizing he's been sitting for a little too long, he stands up to stretch. 

“Hey,” he sighs. 

“Someone's showing off today,” she chuckles, immediately noticing the way his shirt accentuates his stomach. 

“I think it's cute,” he shrugs. 

“Well, appreciate it now while it's cute. You might not feel the same way in a few months.” 

“Are you trying to say my babies won't look cute on me anymore?” he scoffs, though he's mostly joking. Over the past few weeks, he's eased up around Kouyou a lot, and it's definitely due to the fact that they've been able to bond over motherhood. 

“No, but they'll be heavy as hell and you’ll be tired of the back pain.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he sighs. He's about to add another sarcastic comment, but the words die on his tongue as a certain scent suddenly hits his nose. 

As if on cue, Ranpo strides into the office with none other than Dazai in tow. Chuuya stares for a moment, his face heating up unintentionally when their eyes meet. 

“It's right over here,” Ranpo tells Dazai, clearly on a completely different topic, completely unaware of what he's done by bringing Dazai here. 

“Oh, great, thanks,” Dazai says, clearing his throat and striding past. For the first time that morning, his stomach feels exposed and he finds himself wishing he had gone with the oversized sweater again. 

“Good morning professors!” Kouyou greets them both politely, and Chuuya wishes there was a better way to get her to not draw attention to him. 

Dazai turns back to them while Ranpo rummages through a stack of papers. Chuuya's heart squeezes in his chest when he notices the way Dazai's eyes flicker to his stomach briefly. Like he's trying to look without getting caught staring. 

“Hi Kouyou…Chuuya,” he says, his tone stiff and awkward. He's holding something back, Chuuya can tell. And for reasons he isn't ready to think about, the way he sounds so stiff and formal is deeply upsetting. This man has been inside of him, and he's nodding along as if they're strangers. 

“What brings you into the office today?” She asks, clearly not picking up on the tension. 

“Ranpo has some notes for me, that's all,” he replies. Now he looks like he's purposely avoiding eye contact with Chuuya. 

“How's Akutagawa doing?” she asks, continuing with the small talk. It's so awkward, too. He doesn't want to be a part of this conversation, but he also doesn't want to purposely walk away and make things weirder than they have to be. 

That, and…It's been a while since he's been able to smell him. It's nice to be close enough that he can catch those favored notes of cinnamon and mahogany. 

“He's fine…great. He's a great student,” Dazai says, and Chuuya knows from experience that he's sugar coating, but he still doesn't like hearing him compliment another omega.

“He was really excited to get to work with you,” Kouyou tells him. 

“Mhmm,” Dazai hums, inviting an even more uncomfortable silence. 

“Am I missing something?” Kouyou suddenly asks, like she's finally noticed that Dazai and Chuuya haven't acknowledged each other at all. “I thought you two were friends.” 

“We are—” 

“We're not friends,” Chuuya quickly corrects, cutting Dazai off from whatever bullshit he was about to spew. And it's true. They're not friends. 

They never really were to begin with. 

“...Right,” Dazai says, somehow having the audacity to sound disappointed. “Well, for what it's worth, I do miss having Chuuya as my TA. Akutagawa may be smarter, but he's a bit of a stick in the mud, you know?” 

“Yeah? Well…Wait, what the hell do you mean smarter?” Chuuya scoffs. He's ready to argue more when he notices the way Dazai's lips curl into a grin. 

Fucker.

“Whatever, it doesn't matter,” Chuuya rolls his eyes and finally turns away, going back to his own desk to ignore Dazai for the rest of the time he's there. Thankfully, it isn't very long until Ranpo finds the papers he's looking for and hands them off to Dazai so he can leave. 

“Okay, that was so weird, right?” Kouyou whispers, sitting down next to Chuuya as soon as both professors are gone. “Is he always like that?” 

Chuuya's throat grows tight and he shrugs. “I guess.” 

“You guys were so fun at happy hour that one time, bickering like old friends. It was funny—”

“Yeah, I know, I don't want to talk about it,” he chokes, blinking back tears. 

It was such a brief conversation, but it's already affected Chuuya so much. He's grateful that he got to take in a bit of his scent, he's sad that it's already gone, he's sad that he couldn't hold onto him and make him stay—

“Chuuya…? What's the matter, hon?” she asks, her voice soft as she places a hand between his shoulders. 

“Nothing, I'm fine. You know how hormones are,” He swallows. “Everything makes me cry these days.” 

“That's true, but…You seem distressed,” she says, and her tone isn't patronizing, just concerned. “You were so giddy about your bump and then…Now you seem sad. Do you really miss his class or something? Oh no, Chuuya…Did something happen?” 

Chuuya squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. That's exactly why he lied about why he needed a change in the first place—everyone just loves to assume that every omega is going to be taken advantage of. 

They're the weaker gender, the more sensitive, the most breedable. 

He hates it so much that people doubt his ability to stand up for himself in the presence of an alpha. And maybe this alpha did sleep with him, but it was all fully consensual and Chuuya would rather die than have anyone else think otherwise.  

“No, not like what you're thinking,” he says. Pausing for a moment, he looks around the room, making sure no one else is around. Should he just tell her? 

“But there is something?” 

“We…” He swallows. “We were friends and had a falling out. I didn't want anyone to know because it sounds stupid.”

“Oh, right, that makes sense,” she sighs, buying it for now. Maybe one day he'll tell her the truth, but for now he's just not sure about it. When it got out that he was pregnant, news spread shockingly fast throughout the department. He really doesn't want to find out what would happen with a scandal like this one getting out. 

“Yeah, just…shitty luck, I guess.” 

“I'll say…Well, I gotta work on my ethics paper a bit before the lecture. I'll talk to you later,” she gives him a kind smile and then moves to her own desk to sit down. 

Once he's alone, he lets out a long, tired sigh and rests one hand on his stomach. He's about to look at his own coursework again when his phone vibrates against the desk. Without thinking, he picks it up to read the text, and then almost drops his phone. 

Dazai: Hey.

Chuuya blinks, wondering if it's some sort of prank because why would the alpha he hasn't talked to in weeks suddenly send him so generic out of the blue? 

The phone vibrates again and Chuuya jumps.

Dazai: I know this is a shot in the dark since you probably blocked this number…But you look amazing today

Chuuya's face burns as he reads the message. He wants to text back that Dazai should fuck off and leave him alone, but he can't bring himself to do that. So he just…doesn't respond. 

He can rationalize that it's just better to not engage at all, but the truth is, he's curious about whether or not Dazai will continue to text him if he thinks Chuuya isn't reading his messages. 

After his lectures are over for the day, he heads over to his former cohort office to see if Yosano or Junichiro are around. Much to his dismay, the only two people he finds are Akutagawa and Atsushi. 

Ha, he's still trying to pass this class? Better hope for a miracle. 

“Oh, hi!” Atsushi says, smiling brightly when he sees Chuuya. And then his smile only widens when he notices Chuuya's stomach. “Oh my god, I didn't know you were pregnant! Congratulations!” 

“Oh, um, thanks,” he mumbles awkwardly. Akutagawa frowns behind him, like he's annoyed that Atsushi’s attention has been drawn away from their tutoring session. (At least, that's what Chuuya assumes they were doing.)

“Looking for someone?” Akutagawa sighs. 

“Just seeing if Yosano had left for the day,” Chuuya shrugs. 

As if reminded of someone, Atsushi checks the time on his phone and gasps. “Oh no! I'm going to be late for biology! I must have lost track of time—I'll see you later Akutagawa!” 

“Okay,” Akutagawa mumbles in response, turning back to his own work as Atsushi scrambles to pack up. 

“It was nice seeing you, Chuuya!” Atsushi says cheerfully before all but running out of the office. 

“That kid is hopeless,” Chuuya sighs once he's out of earshot. “I had to tell him who Socrates was.” 

But once he turns back to Akutagawa, all he does is groan and drop his head against the keyboard. 

“Uh…that bad, huh?” He's not sure what to say, but he does remember how badly tutoring sessions with Atsushi made his head hurt. 

“I have no words to properly describe Atsushi’s blatant lack of talent in the field of philosophy,” he murmurs. “And yet his passion is intriguing.” 

Chuuya grimaces at Akutagawa’s word choice and wonders if he can dip out of the conversation right now. Anyone who speaks needlessly formal is irritating, in Chuuya’s opinion. And pretentious. Real intellect would involve knowing when and how to use different ways of speaking appropriately. Or not caring either way, which is what Chuuya generally opts for, and he’s gotten by just fine. 

Anyway, he’s already decided he doesn’t like Akutagawa, so maybe that’s why everything he says just seems irritating. 

“Sure, that’s one way to put it,” Chuuya grins. “Well, good luck with that.” 

“Do you think it would be ethically dubious for me to pursue him romantically?” 

Chuuya chokes. “What?!”

“I apologize, that was inappropriate. Forget I said anything,” he says, with a heavy sigh. As shocking as his admission is, once Chuuya has a second or two to process it, he realizes it’s actually a good thing. If Akutagawa is interested in Atsushi, then it means he isn’t trying to woo Dazai at all. 

Not that it matters. 

It doesn’t. 

“No, no,” Chuuya says, shaking his head and pulling up a chair. “By all means, let’s talk about this. So you’ve got the hots for an undergrad, huh?” 

“When you say it like that, it sounds strange,” Akutagawa swallows. “But I suppose…yes. I do. I’ve considered the circumstances…He’s only two years younger than I am, and he’s graduating at the end of the spring semester. Once he passes this class and moves on, he’s no longer a student of mine, and it would be far less morally ambiguous.” 

“Sounds like you’ve thought this through,” Chuuya sighs. “Though good luck with Atsushi passing. He bombed an open book exam that he had all of the answers to.” 

“I did notice that,” Akutagawa mumbles. “If he doesn’t get at least an eighty-seven percent on the final, then he won’t pass the course.” 

“Yeah, there’s no way,” Chuuya snorts. 

“Do you have that little faith in him?” 

“Look, he’s a good guy, whatever, but he’s terrible at this stuff. If he ends up taking the course again, then you’ll keep convincing yourself that you shouldn’t make a move,” Chuuya explains. “So look at it from another angle—He’s not your student, he’s Dazai’s. And you’re basically Dazai’s student, too, so you’re one in the same.” 

“I suppose…By that logic, it would only be unethical if I were trying to court someone like Dazai,” he muses. 

Chuuya forces a smile while biting the inside of his cheek. “Uh-huh, yeah. Exactly.” 

“Hmm…”

“Basically, I think you’re good. If you’re worried about ethics, just have Dazai grade his assignments, problem solved,” Chuuya shrugs. 

“That’s actually very helpful. Thank you, Nakahara,” he says, sounding genuinely grateful for Chuuya’s advice. The painful irony is that Chuuya is the last person that should be giving relationship advice. For whatever reason, though, it’s all easier to tell someone what to do when he’s on the outside looking in. Applying all that common sense to his own life, on the other hand, is much more difficult. 

“Of course,” Chuuya swallows, his hands idly ghosting over his stomach. As he does that, he’s suddenly reminded of the text message Dazai had sent him. 

Did he really think Chuuya looked amazing? 

Chuuya is very much still angry over the way the alpha had reacted (or failed to react, actually) that day, but for some reason he still finds himself craving his approval. And then thinking about how, if everything were normal between them, maybe Dazai would be touching his stomach all the time…

He doesn’t need Dazai’s approval, though. He was already well-aware that he looked amazing, thank you very much.

“When do you plan on giving birth?” 

Chuuya pauses. “That’s an odd way of asking that question…” 

“Everyone has a date they plan on, but it rarely happens that way. At least from what I’ve seen,” Akutagawa elaborates, and it makes sense, but still…Akutagawa’s so weird.  

“Right…Sometime in May,” Chuuya sighs. 

“Oh…” 

“What?” Chuuya scoffs, not liking his tone. 

“Nothing, just…I assumed you were much further along. You must be having multiples.” 

“Yeah, twins,” he mutters, before pushing himself up from his chair so he can stand again. He’s decided that he’s officially done talking to Akutagawa. “Anyway, I gotta go. Good luck with finals.” 

“And to you as well.” 

Ugh. 

Chuuya leaves after that, deciding that he’s better off just heading back home for the rest of the day to study in peace. It’s cold out, but it’s also nice. He swears his body heat has risen astronomically with this stupid pregnancy, so feeling the cold air on his skin actually feels amazing. As he stands at the bus stop, he takes off his coat, letting the almost-winter air cool his skin. 

“Chuuya?” 

He freezes, but not from the cold, and when he looks towards the direction of the voice calling his name, he sees exactly who he thought he heard—Dazai. 

Why the hell does he keep showing up today? After weeks of not crossing paths, he’s run into him twice today now. Chuuya tears his gaze away, concentrating on the concrete square in front of his feet, pretending like he hadn’t heard or noticed him at all. 

It’s not as effective as he’d hoped, though, because that idiot decides to walk over to him anyway. 

“Leave me alone,” Chuuya mutters, not looking up from his feet. 

“Oh, I’m—I don’t want to bother you, but it’s really cold out, and—”

“And what?” Chuuya growls, finally snapping his head up to look the alpha in the eyes. He almost falters when he catches sight of his soft brown eyes and the way his hair sticks out from under his winter hat…Chuuya hates him. He does. But…for some reason, his heart still squeezes in his chest when their eyes meet. 

“Nothing…I…How long until the bus comes? Can I give you a ride so you don’t have to wait in the cold?” Dazai asks, and Chuuya gives him an incredulous look. Is he fucking joking? 

“Why the hell would I accept a ride from you?” Chuuya wants to spit. The alpha blinks, like he isn’t sure why he had asked such a stupid question, either. 

“I don’t know,” Dazai admits. “I don’t want you to catch a cold.” 

He notices the way his eyes drift towards Chuuya’s stomach, and Chuuya’s entire face starts to heat up, just from a simple glance.  

You look amazing today…

He wonders if Dazai’s car smells like him…Maybe if he accepts a ride he can get some of his scent second-hand and be good for a few days without symptoms. It doesn’t have to be because he’s forgiven him or because he wants to be closer to him. 

And he’s the one who asked, after all. 

“Luckily for you, the bus doesn’t come for another fifteen minutes, so I’ll take you up on your offer,” Chuuya finally says, even though it’s probably not a good idea. He hasn’t even talked to the guy in weeks, and he definitely hasn’t been alone with him in any capacity since Chuuya told him he was pregnant. 

“Oh, okay, I’m parked this way,” Dazai says, nodding in the direction of the staff parking lot. Chuuya swallows, pushing away all of the sudden, swirling thoughts of whether or not he’s about to make another huge mistake. He follows a few paces behind the alpha, keeping his head down as he walks. The parking lot isn’t that far away, but the walk to it still feels like it takes an eternity. 

“This is me,” Dazai says once they arrive at his car. It’s a simple car—a black, four-door sedan, that wouldn’t be anything to write home about if it weren’t for the brand of car. A luxury vehicle that Chuuya happens to know is way out of any normal university professor’s budget. 

“Really?” Chuuya asks, not meaning to sound like he’s in that much disbelief. But he still says it, and it earns him a stupid little smirk from Dazai that makes his chest flutter. 

“Is there a problem with the car?” Dazai asks, knowingly. 

“No, it’s just a fucking car,” he scoffs, pulling open the passenger door. He gets in and slides into a soft, leather seat, and nearly melts as the familiar scent of cinnamon hits his nose. Oh, this is exactly what he was hoping for. 

Not that he’ll admit it or anything. 

“Do you want the heated seat on?” Dazai asks him. And Chuuya knows that he was just complaining to himself about being too hot all the time, but the idea of the warm seat on his lower back actually sounds divine. 

So he nods. 

“So um, how’s your thesis coming along?” Dazai asks, attempting small talk. Chuuya swallows, and would prefer silence, but also doesn’t want to potentially invite other topics of conversation. 

“Fine,” Chuuya says, simple. “Ranpo’s a harsh critic, but his feedback is helpful.” 

“Good,” Dazai replies, still so stiff and awkward. 

Even though it’s for the best, there’s something so heartbreaking about the tension between the two of them. Everything used to be so easy between them, even when Dazai was being annoying. It was easy to voice his opinions or engage in banter, or even just breathe.  

Right now, things feel…irreparable.

“How are you…feeling?” Dazai asks, like he’s been dancing around the question for a while now. Chuuya’s throat tightens as he shakes his head. 

“Nope, you don’t get to ask me that,” Chuuya snaps. 

He can sense the way the alpha’s pheromones darken, recoiling from Chuuya’s rejection, but he does everything he can to not let it get to him. Dazai didn’t care about him when he was in tears and begging for him to at least act like he gave a fuck…Having him pretending to care now feels like a slap in the face. 

“Right, that makes sense,” Dazai says thickly, staring straight ahead as he drives. But Chuuya notices the way he grips the wheel a little tighter. 

The rest of the drive to Chuuya’s apartment passes by in a heavy silence. Dazai doesn’t dare say another word, and Chuuya doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of starting another conversation. He wants him to feel bad. If that’s even what he’s feeling. 

“Thanks for the ride,” Chuuya mumbles when he pulls up to the curb. 

“Anytime…Chuuya?” he trails off before getting his attention again, right before he’s out of the car and gone for good. 

Chuuya sighs and turns back, just for a moment. “Hmm?” 

“I know I don’t deserve it but…if you need anything, or if you’re ever ready to talk…you can text me or call me,” Dazai says, sounding earnest. The pleading in his eyes almost makes Chuuya want to break down, to give in just like that.

But he can’t.  

“Too bad I have your number blocked. Bye, Dazai.” Then he tears himself away and slams the car door behind him, stomping off before either of them can say anything else. 

He only just makes it inside his apartment when he gets another text message. 

Dazai: I’ve missed you so much. 

Chapter Text

“How have you been feeling?” 

Chuuya wonders if his doctor realizes how fucking loaded that question is when he asks it. Honestly, he’s not even sure he knows the answer—How has he been feeling? He doesn’t know! One moment he’ll be calling Yosano crying because the convenience store is out of the wasabi chips he wanted, the next he’ll be studying for finals like nothing’s even wrong. 

“Moody, hungry… gassy,” he adds the last part with a tinge of embarrassment. He’s never enjoyed answering personal questions, especially at the doctor’s office. 

“Well, I’m sorry to say, but it sounds pretty normal for this stage,” Dr. Mori chuckles. “And how has the nausea been?” 

Chuuya grimaces. “It comes and goes…It was better for a while and now it’s…I don’t know.” 

He probably sounds so stupid and incoherent. It’s not like the doctor needs a whole spiel about the ins and outs of his personal life—He’s only trying to help make sure the babies are healthy. 

“Chuuya, it’s none of my business, but I just need to know if you’re being scented regularly. I sense that you’re uncomfortable, but this is for the health of the twins,” he explains, like he can read minds or something. Doctors probably deal with this stuff all the time, and Chuuya tries to use that to reassure himself but it doesn’t really fix anything. 

“Um…Not anymore,” he admits. “It’s been almost a month…Or, well, it had been until last week and now it’s worn off again and…I didn’t want to admit it, but the scenting works better than the meds do.” 

“Of course it does, that’s what your instincts crave, after all,” Dr. Mori explains. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I won’t make any judgments based on what you want to do, but professionally speaking, it is recommended the father of the pups scents you regularly in order to ease symptoms. However, if that’s simply not an option, I can continue prescribing the medication.” 

Chuuya considers it for a moment. If this appointment had been just a few weeks earlier, he would have groaned at the idea and accepted a new prescription in a heartbeat. That would have been because he was still in a place where he couldn’t even look in Dazai’s direction without wanting to cry. Despite knowing they weren’t ever together, and knowing that he didn’t deserve what Dazai said to him, it still affected him way more than he wanted it to. 

But now, he’s survived an awkward conversation, and even a silent car ride with him. And now that those things have been conquered, Chuuya’s been strangely drawn to the alpha again. He constantly checks his phone for new messages, just to see if the alpha’s texted him again, thinking Chuuya still has him blocked. The words he used that day were cruel, but his actions ever since have been…kind? Moderately decent? 

Stupidly, he almost wants to dive back into the alpha’s arms. 

Almost. 

Not yet, though. 

“I don’t know,” Chuuya finally says. “We’re not on good terms right now.” 

“I see,” Dr. Mori says. He doesn’t press the issue any further, thankfully. “I’ll write you a new prescription for the nausea meds, you can take those as needed, and if you end up not needing them later on…Well, then you can just stop taking them.” 

“Thank you,” he says, quietly. 

Moving right along, Dr. Mori starts to ask him other questions that are uncomfortable for completely different reasons—Like, has he noticed any changes in his breasts, or in vaginal discharge. He answers both honestly—Which can both be answered with no. His nipples are sore and puffy, but that hasn’t changed in the past month or so. 

“That’s really all I can think of,” Chuuya sighs as he finishes telling him all of his new symptoms, including his recent cravings for spicy food. He’d never really been a fan of it before, because he didn’t like the way that spice often drowned out any other flavor in his food. But now he can’t get enough of it.

“Well, that seems fairly normal as well, just be careful with how much you consume,” he warns. 

“Will it…burn the babies?” Chuuya asks, his eyes wide because he never stopped to think about whether or not they would be able to tolerate it! Fuck—

“What? No, don’t be silly,” he chuckles. “You’re just more susceptible to heartburn and GI distress right now.” 

“Oh, right,” he mumbles. Duh.  

“Well, Chuuya, everything seems to be progressing nicely. Next month when I see you, we’ll be able to tell the sex of the twins,” he says, and Chuuya’s heart squeezes in his chest at the thought of getting to see them again. He has the pictures from his first ultrasound pinned to his bedroom wall right by his pillow. They don’t even look like anything identifiable in that picture, but just knowing what they are helps him sleep a little better at night. 

“Alright,” he says, with a hopeful smile. 

Hopeful that maybe, by the next time he sees his babies, things will feel a little less like they’re falling apart. And even if things in his life are still falling apart, he’ll feel better knowing he has his twins to look forward to.

—

Usually, once finals are over and graded, Dazai feels like he can finally breathe a little easier. He gets a bit of a break where he doesn’t have to worry about working or anyone needing anything from him for a few weeks. But this time feels different. 

It’s the first time since he’s started this job that he’s felt alone. And it only invites feelings that he’d thought he buried a long time ago. He never realized the extent to which he’d used his career as a distraction from his own head, but holy fuck, it hits him hard. 

His apartment is too big, his office is too quiet, he doesn’t want to open his car doors and air out the last of Chuuya’s scent… 

Every time he sees the omega, he feels like he’s been stabbed in the heart repeatedly. He looks incredible, and there’s something about the curve of his pregnant stomach that drives Dazai wild in a way he never thought was possible. Pregnancy has never been a kink of his, but he can’t even think about Chuuya without this innate desire to ravish him.  

He knows he has no right to have any part of Chuuya’s pregnancy, but for whatever reason, with every time he’s seen the omega since finding out, he can quickly feel himself starting to lose to his own instincts. He’ll see Chuuya’s belly, smell those milky, fleshy undertones of his scent that only grow stronger and alarms will go off in his head telling him  Those are your pups! That’s your omega! 

Mistakenly, he thinks that the department’s Christmas party might be a good distraction. He’s gone every year and they always have good booze and decent food. What he really needs is to drink his troubles away, and doing so seems a lot more exciting in the company of others than alone in his office while wallowing in his own self-pity. He even puts on a fucking santa hat, thinking it’ll get him into the holiday spirit. 

The party takes place in the lobby on the first floor, and by the time he arrives he’s already got a good buzz going. He brings his own bottle of whiskey to the drink table and pours some more into one of those plastic cups. 

Once he has that, he turns to the intermingling crowds and realizes that he’s not quite sure where to start. As he scans the room, his eyes land on Akutagawa, who’s dressed in a surprisingly festive sweater and accompanied by an even more surprising guest. Grinning, he strides over to the two of them.

“Well, well, well, who said you could invite an undergrad to the party?” Dazai chuckles, his words already embarrassingly slurred. Atsushi’s face turns bright red at the accusation, but Akutagawa only deadpans. 

“Fukuzawa did,” he says, simply. “I asked, made my case, and he decided to allow it.” 

“Oh, well that’s no fun,” Dazai says, with a long, dramatic sigh. “I thought you were about to be the next big scandal in the department.” 

“Oh, n-no, I'm not even in this department,” Atsushi sputters. “I'm an organic chemistry major.” 

“Well, that's unexpected,” Dazai replies. “Why take my course then? You barely passed.” 

“Er, I don't know. I thought it would be interesting and I needed another elective,” Atsushi explains, looking a little bashful. Akutagawa moves in a little closer, his hand sliding around Atsushi’s back. “And it was very interesting, by the way. I enjoyed it!” 

“He passed, so what does it matter?” He asks, sounding a little defensive. Oh. Ohhhh. Now he gets it. 

Dazai smirks at the two omegas, and reaches out to pat Akutagawa on the shoulder. “I had no clue you were such a romantic, Akutagawa. Take good care of our Atsushi, okay?” 

The two of them exchange awkward glances before Atsushi speaks up. “Are you alright, Dr. Dazai? I'm worried you've had too much to drink…” 

Dazai shakes his head and takes another sip from his cup, the alcohol smooth on his tongue before it burns his throat. 

“I'm just fine, I'm flattered that you're worried though,” he laughs, ruffling Atsushi’s hair like he's a puppy before turning around and searching for someone else to make small talk with. Anything to get his mind off of this…Someone who isn't going to ask if he's okay. 

Because he's not, and he probably never will be. 

The universe is clearly punishing him tonight, though, because the next person he just happens to make eye contact with is a dark-haired candidate whose eyes bore lasers into Dazai as soon as she sees him. Yosano—A close friend of Chuuya’s, and one who just happens to know far too much about everything that’s happened. Given the way that she immediately marches towards him like she’s on a mission, he can assume that she also knows about the shitty things he said to Chuuya when he found out about his pregnancy. 

Accepting his fate, he downs the rest of his drink and forces a grin. 

“Yosano, long time no see.” She doesn't seem to be the slightest bit amused by Dazai's charms. 

“You're lucky I don't rip your damn balls off in the middle of this party,” she snaps. Dazai's eyes widen and he finds himself wishing that he had poured more into his cup in anticipation of this conversation. 

“I suppose I am lucky, that sounds quite painful,” he says, not totally sure if he's slurring his words or not. 

“I'd consider it going easy on you, too,” she adds for good measure. 

“Sure would be,” he gives her a half-assed smile. “How's Chuuya by the way?” 

Jeez, yeah, if he wasn't drunk before, he definitely is now. 

“As if I'd tell you. He told me everything and I think he was way too soft on you,” Yosano tells him. He never really thought about her much, but he's quickly learning that she can be absolutely terrifying when she's mad. “I woulda punched your lights out.”

At least Chuuya has someone that cares about him so much. That makes him happy, reassured. 

“The hell are you smiling about?” 

“I'm just glad Chuuya has someone like you in his life.” 

“You're disgusting.” And with that final remark, she decides she's done with their conversation and stomps off elsewhere. 

The rest of the party kind of blurs together at some point. He can't keep track of how much he's had to drink, or the conversations people have tried to strike up with him. It gets late, but the crowd just seems bigger and more overwhelming as the evening goes on, and Dazai finally decides that he needs some space. 

He wanders down one of the empty hallways, the noise getting lower and lower the further he gets. He stops when he comes to the door of the lecture hall he'd held his course in this past semester. There's something odd about standing outside this same door after hours that makes it seem like a sort of liminal space. 

Right as he's about to keep walking to find an outside door, he catches the slightest hint of a scent he's been dying to get for weeks. Warm vanilla, sugar… milk. His eyes lock onto the door of the lecture hall, wide as he concentrates on the scent. Maybe he's drunk and it's just wishful thinking. But the more he focuses on it, the stronger it seems to get. 

He knows he should walk away. 

Fuck. 

Before he can think twice about what he's doing, he pushes open the door to the lecture hall, where the lights are mostly off except for the ones that illuminate the front of the room. It's mostly empty, too, aside from the redheaded omega sitting in the front row. 

Chuuya's eyes lock onto his immediately, and Dazai freezes. He's rehearsed for a moment like this a hundred times in his head, about how he'll get on his knees and kiss his feet if he has to— 

“The hell are you doing here?” Chuuya croaks, and Dazai's mind goes blank. 

“Are you…crying?” Dazai blinks, noticing the redness around the omega’s eyes as he gets closer. His chest surges and suddenly he gets hit with this visceral desire to fight anyone who might have made him cry. 

“Does it matter? I thought I told you to leave me alone,” he fires back, clearly choking back a sob. Dazai takes a few more steps towards him, his sweet scent only growing stronger and stronger. Does he realize how incredible he smells? 

“Why are you in here by yourself—I saw your friends—” 

“They're fine,” Chuuya groans, adjusting in his seat like he might be uncomfortable. Dazai can't help but stare at the roundness of his stomach that's clear even through his fuzzy Christmas sweater. “They're just…I don't know. Everyone's drunk, but I can't drink and my feet hurt, but I promised Yosano and Junichiro they could crash at my place tonight so I can't just leave them— I don't know why I'm fucking telling you this.” 

“I don't mind listening,” Dazai tells him, daring to sit down in the seat next to him. He smells so good, Dazai could drown in his scent and die happy…

“I don’t understand you at all,” Chuuya groans. Dazai doesn't say anything, just watches the way Chuuya absentmindedly runs his hands over his stomach. 

“I'm…I know it's not worth much, but…I'm so sorry for the things I said to you that day—” 

“ Dazai—” 

“ Please, let me finish, I need you to know this,” he says, quickly growing desperate. He's been gifted this opportunity and if he doesn't say anything now, he might not ever get another chance. 

Chuuya's eyebrows knit together, like he's both frustrated and confused, but he stays silent, allowing Dazai to continue for now.  

“I'm sorry, Chuuya, and there's nothing that I could ever say to make it better or to change what I said, but there hasn't been a second that's gone by since then that I didn't regret it.” 

It's dramatic, and the alcohol probably isn't helping.

“For what it’s worth, I don't think I'd make a good father anyway. You're better off,” Dazai adds, quietly. 

“And you just get to decide that without even trying?” Chuuya scoffs, blinking away fresh tears. Dazai's confused by his reaction until he decides to elaborate. “I might end up being a shitty mom, but I'm at least going to try. Kids don't care if you're perfect, they just want you to love them.”

“I guess you're right,” Dazai sighs. 

“My parents died when I was really young…I don’t remember much about them, or the things they did or didn't do right. But I do remember my mom's smile and I remember my dad telling me he loved me…” Chuuya pauses, and closes his eyes for a moment, steadying himself before continuing. “And I know that if I can at least show them how much I love them…Everything else will be okay, you know?” 

Dazai swallows over a painful lump in his throat and nods. “I didn't know that…About your parents, I mean.” 

Chuuya shrugs. “We didn't ever talk about things like that.” 

He's right. Their encounters were very purposely vague and they had been strict about sticking to surface-level topics. Funny how, in all their efforts to keep boundaries while staying close, they only ended up pushing each other further and further away. 

“My parents died when I was a teenager,” he says, as if it's some sort of fucked up peace offering. It feels strange, even under the influence of alcohol, to say it out loud. When was the last time he actually talked about them? “I was never really sure if they loved me. Sometimes they did…other times they didn't.” 

They stay silent for a while after that, and Dazai starts to wonder if he should have said anything at all. Or, maybe he’s more inebriated than he thought and whatever he said didn’t make sense anyway. 

“Thanks for telling me that,” Chuuya says in a small voice, breaking the silence after a few moments. “You never talk about anything emotional, I was beginning to think you weren't human.” 

Dazai cracks a smile at that. “Funny, I was beginning to think the same thing about myself. But Chuuya…You make me want to be human again.” 

“Dazai,” he sighs, turning away from him for a moment, staring up at the blank projector screen as he thinks. “I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you…The things you said really hurt.” 

“I understand,” Dazai says simply, even though he feels like he's been stabbed right through the heart. “I don't expect forgiveness.”  

“But…” Chuuya's voice is small, and Dazai holds his breath as he waits to hear what else he has to say. “I do need something…from you.” 

“Okay, you got it.” Dazai says it quickly, like he has to get it out before Chuuya can take it back. He sits up tall, eager and ready to prove that he'll do anything it takes—

“What? You didn't even hear what it is yet.” 

“It doesn't matter.” 

“Fine, then give me a million yen, that's what I was gonna say,” he scoffs, and he's being a bit of a brat, but it only makes Dazai smile. It feels…normal. Like the Chuuya he's missed so much.  

“Okay, sure, do you take installments?” Dazai asks, humoring him. Or, at least, Chuuya will think Dazai’s just humoring. In reality, he actually would do that if it meant things going back to normal between them…or, maybe not even normal. A better version of what their normal used to be. 

He’s not sure exactly when that changed in his mind, or when he decided to stop fighting his instincts…but especially now, when he’s sitting so close to the other man…All he wants is to be in his life again. Whether that's as the father of his children, or as someone he doesn’t run away from every time they cross paths, or something in between…Dazai will take whatever he can get. 

“You’re crazy,” Chuuya mutters, shaking his head before letting out another lofty sigh. “No, it’s not money… I need your scent.”  

Dazai stares at him for a moment. 

“What are you staring for? We’ve had sex, it’s not that weird of a question!” he fires back defensively, his face getting all red. Cute.

“I didn’t say anything, I just wasn’t expecting…Yeah, you want me to scent you? Or…” He trails off for a moment, glancing down at Chuuya’s stomach again. And he’s still not sure about all the parenting stuff, because it’s definitely still terrifying to think there’s something growing inside of the omega… two somethings, to be exact. Two little human beings that they created together. 

“My doctor thinks it’ll help,” Chuuya shrugs, looking down and running his hand over the curve of his belly. 

“Help with what?” Dazai asks, his level of concern suddenly building and making his head spin. 

“Just…Do you remember that one day? When I was really sick and missed our meeting because I overslept?” 

Dazai remembers. Of course he does. That was the first time he truly felt like he was losing his mind over the omega. Chuuya wouldn’t answer any of his emails, and Dazai’s instincts jumped to the worst possible conclusions. 

“Yeah. I thought you died.” He offers a weak chuckle, and Chuuya just rolls his eyes. 

“Turns out I was having the worst morning sickness. As soon as you came over, I felt better,” Chuuya admits. He still doesn’t look up at Dazai when he speaks, he just keeps looking at his own stomach. Either he’s mesmerized by the babies, or he’s avoiding eye contact purposely. (Or maybe it’s both). 

“Are you having symptoms again?” Dazai asks. 

“Kind of…Not as bad as before, and I have meds that I can take so it’s not like I need you,” he says, like he has to make sure Dazai knows that. 

“But it’s not the same, is it?” 

Chuuya swallows audibly. “No, it isn't.” 

The concept of secondary gender and all that were nothing that Dazai ever particularly cared about aside from his own biological needs and instincts. Society cares a lot about the politics surrounding secondary genders, and while he loves a good debate, it has never been a subject he dwelled on more than he needed to. As a prime alpha, he's well aware of the privileges that come with that title. Preferential treatment, never having to work too hard to find someone to hook up with…

Being an omega is different, from what he can see. While Chuuya has never seemed to fit the stereotype of weak or fragile as some might assume, he more than likely had dealt with his fair share of discrimination. Especially given his size. But Chuuya is headstrong and opinionated, would probably rather die than have anyone assume he needs an alpha. 

Now he's in a position where he's going against his own wishes, his own fierce need for independence, to ask for Dazai's—An alpha's— help. And after Dazai called him a whore in this same fucking room that they’re sitting in now—

“I don't think I deserve to be close to you,” Dazai sighs solemnly. “But I'll do whatever you need me to.” 

“For starters, you can quit it with that woe is me shit,” Chuuya scoffs. “It sounds disingenuous and honestly, just fucking annoying.” 

“Oh, sor—” 

“Stop, you can only say it so many times before it starts to lose its meaning,” Chuuya insists, his tone a little sharper this time. He straightens up a bit, adjusting in his seat like he's uncomfortable. “Anyway, I don't need you to scent me all the damn time, just…I don't know, scent a shirt that I can keep or something.” 

“A shirt? You want this one?” Dazai asks, undoing the top button of the one he's wearing. 

“No! Fuck, keep your clothes on,” Chuuya groans, reaching over and swatting his hand away. 

As soon as their hands brush together, it kind of feels like he's in one of those sappy romance movies. His heart skips a beat, and every hair on his body stands on end because their connection is electrifying. 

It's been so fucking long since he's touched him. The way Chuuya recoils immediately tells him that he’s thinking about something similar. 

“Drop one off tomorrow or something…when you’re sober,” Chuuya clarifies him, eyes narrowed. 

“Am I not sober? Oops,” Dazai chuckles. 

“And don’t try to show up and give me the shirt off your back, either, don’t be weird,” Chuuya mutters. “I’m so serious, stop looking at me like that!” 

“Like what?” 

“Like…I don’t know! I’m leaving to find Yosano,” he grumbles, pushing himself up from the thin, wooden armrests of the seat so that he can stand. 

“Oh, okay…Wait!” Dazai asks, catching right before he reaches the door. He stops and turns back, looking mildly annoyed. “Where should I drop it off?” 

Chuuya hesitates for a moment, and Dazai wonders if he remembered that they’re on break and won’t be seeing each other for a while. Assuming that he’d rather just change his mind about the scented clothing, Dazai braces himself for disappointment. 

“Well, you know where I live.” It’s not an invitation, just a simple reminder. 

But it’s at least something.

Chapter Text

The department Christmas party ends up being a lot more intense than Chuuya had expected it to be. He had hoped that for a department of professionals, it would be a classy affair with wine glasses and small talk, and less reminiscent of the frat parties held by undergrads. If it had been the former, it would have been much easier for him to mingle with the crowd without feeling too out of place for not drinking. 

Even Dazai, though he seemed surprisingly coherent throughout their conversation, reeked of alcohol. And that was actually probably his saving grace, because if it weren’t for the whiskey scent putting him off, he might have done something stupid and asked Dazai to just scent him right then and there. 

Thankfully, after leaving him behind, Yosano and Junichiro were ready to head out, and Chuuya ended up taking them both back to his own apartment to let them crash on the couches there. He’d had enough overwhelm for one night and didn’t need the stress of making sure they got home in one piece on top of that. 

With so much on his mind, he was sure it would take him forever to fall asleep, but as soon as his head hit his pillow he was out. When he finally wakes up the next morning, he finds himself trying to remember when he even fell asleep. 

He sits up in bed and looks around the room—from the pinned picture of his unborn babies, to the rest of the clean, untouched space. Once the twins are born, he might have to rearrange some things…or, actually, he should do that before. The other bedroom he has is filled with boxes and office supplies and it would be ideal for a nursery, but it would mean having to go through all that crap and possibly move it into his own bedroom. Then again, it would be easier to do that than to just move… Man, he should have thought about all of this before he got too big. He’s only at seventeen weeks and there’s no way he could lift a big box of papers and shit on his own. 

Asking his friends would be an option…

Ah, no, that’s too much, isn’t it? 

Friends have never been easy to acquire in Chuuya’s experience. Ever since his parents passed away when he was young, it was hard to find a stable home right away—he was in and out of foster care and living with distant relatives before finally aging out of the system before he could even get adopted. It sounds awful, but Chuuya was actually lucky in the sense that he was never really mistreated, as far as he’s aware. His aunts and foster parents would always be so kind and caring and did what they could to ease him into the various transitions. 

Inevitably, every time, something would come up—They’d get wind that a family member could take him in, so they’d whisk him away from a stable foster home in the name of keeping the family together! Only, of course, to have that family member either fall on hard times, or decide they couldn’t actually afford to take care of a child. By the time Chuuya was in high school, he’d already become guarded and defensive; always ready to be uprooted, always ready for people to leave him behind. 

Of course, that was always a self-fulfilling prophecy because with puberty and presentation hormones raging along with the pent-up trauma from all of his unstable relationships, Chuuya became angry. Not at his parents, not at anyone in particular. But everything pissed him off, and his temper was shorter than he was. So, he’d get into fights and earn himself referrals and suspensions, all of which were things foster parents he had didn’t want to deal with. 

“Sorry, we were under the impression he was well-adjusted, without any significant trauma history….” 

“No one said anything about dealing with this kind of behavior!” 

Every time he switched families, it was the same thing—And every time, he proved himself right. 

Obviously that was a long time ago, and he actually has been to therapy, but old habits die hard. Despite countless hours of processing his trouble with attachments and close relationships, he still feels uneasy when people get close to him. In a weird way, he’s proud of himself for becoming friends with Yosano and Junichiro. But he’s also lucky that the two of them didn’t really give him an option. 

The biggest thing he learned from all that therapy, though, is that he’s actually always wanted a stable family. People who loved him and would never leave him no matter how tough things got, kids that he could raise and shower with all the love and affection and patience he missed out on as a child… 

If he lets himself daydream a bit, it would be nice if he could get to a place with Dazai where he could actually trust the other man, where they could know each other fully and Dazai would be in his life permanently. That being said—Dazai has to be able to commit one way or another. He’ll either be in the twins’ lives or he won’t be. No in-between. 

With a tired groan, he finally gets himself out of bed and trudges out of his room and into the kitchen. He gets a glass to fill with water, and then takes a pill from the bottle he’d left on the counter. 

“You’re up,” a voice says, startling him as he closes the lid on the bottle. It’s only Yosano, but he’d assumed that she would still be sleeping. “Damn, I don’t remember the last time I’ve had a hangover this bad.” 

“Yeah? You two were a mess,” Chuuya teases. 

“Ha-ha, yeah,” she mutters sarcastically. “I need water.” 

“Yeah, you do.” He’s still teasing, but grabs her another glass anyway and fills it to the top. “Meds are in the bathroom cabinet if you need any.” 

“Thanks,” she sighs. “Did you have fun last night? I feel bad that you had to take care of our drunk asses again.” 

“It wasn’t a big deal…It’s just extra parenting practice,” he jokes, but then his smile fades again. “I, uh, talked to Dazai last night.” 

“What? What did he say to you?” She asks, ready to go into protective mode if she has to. “I told him if he messed with you I’d rip his balls off!”

“When did you say that to him?!” Chuuya cries, horrified. “That’s so embarrassing.” 

“No, you’re just easily embarrassed…And, I don’t know it was last night when I was drunk, so who knows if I was even saying words,” she says with a shrug. “So, anyway, what did that asshole have to say?” 

“He…apologized,” Chuuya says. 

“Chuuya, be careful, just because he says that doesn’t mean you can just run right back to him. He said some really fucked up shit.” 

“I know that,” he groans. “I didn’t forgive him, and I didn’t say that I would…but I asked if I could have some clothes with his scent on them—For the babies—and he said that he’d bring me some.”

“Just for the babies?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes, for them,” Chuuya insists. 

“Well…be careful, okay? I know you’re a strong, independent omega, but if you need me to come over and rip his balls off—” 

“You’ll be the first person I call. I promise.” 

She drops the conversation there and starts going into some other things she saw at the party the night before. After Junichiro wakes up and is functioning, the two of them decide to head out, leaving Chuuya alone in his apartment once more. As soon as they’re gone, he opens the door to the second bedroom just to survey the space he had been thinking about earlier. 

There’s a desk in the corner that he never uses (his internet is shit and he does most of his work in his office on campus, anyway.) In another corner, a stack of three boxes, old and weathered from years in his aunt’s storage unit, all belonging to his parents. There are a few other things as well—odds and ends thrown into trash bags, a set of suitcases that he’s never actually used. 

If he were to clear this stuff out, there would be plenty of space for a couple of bassinets and maybe even a rocking chair. Maybe he can look for a second job to try and make a little extra money…it would use up most of his free time, but it would be worth it if it meant being able to buy something nice for his twins. 

He’s interrupted from his thoughts when someone knocks at his front door. Leaving his spot, he heads over to answer it, only to be hit with that scent before he even reaches for the door handle. For a moment, Chuuya stops in his tracks because he’s actually shocked. Dazai said he would come by, but part of him assumed he was bluffing, or that he was just drunk and would forget their conversation entirely. 

But no, he’s here. 

Bright and early, on Chuuya’s doorstep, ready to fulfill a promise already. 

His heart thumps wildly in his chest all of a sudden, like he genuinely isn’t sure what to expect when he opens the door. Swallowing hard, he finally pulls open the door to confirm that yes, it really is him. And he’s here…with an oversized duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, I was worried you weren’t going to answer the door,” Dazai says, smiling sheepishly. He seems energetic, but the slight circles under his eyes remind Chuuya of how much he’d been drinking the night before as well. “I was about to just leave this here. Ah, anyway, I just put everything in here.” 

“Everything? I asked for a shirt,” Chuuya blinks, taking the bag from him. Definitely more than just a shirt.

“Yeah, well, maybe I went a little overboard, but I wanted to make sure it was enough. If you just want to take a shirt and I’ll take back the rest—” 

“No!” Chuuya suddenly snaps, surprising even himself with his reaction. 

Dazai stares at him, a smirk playing at his lips like he wants to laugh. 

“Shit, I mean, yeah  I just want the shirt,” he grumbles to himself. He turns and takes the bag over to drop it onto the couch. “You can come in, but just—Stay right there! Close the door behind you, too.” 

As soon as he sets the bag down, he fully intends on opening it up and plucking a shirt from the top without even really paying much attention to what his options are. But his plans are instantly foiled when he’s hit with all of the pheromones from the pile at once. He’s not sure what the hell Dazai did, but the items are drenched in his scent, potent and thick and absolutely perfect…

“Fuck,” Chuuya mutters, forgetting where he is for a moment and pulling the top article of clothing out just to press his face into it. As soon as he inhales, his inner omega starts to purr, happy and content and living for the alpha’s scent. It goes straight to his head and warms his heart and—

“Chuuya?” Dazai’s voice interrupts. 

He stops what he’s doing, mortified when he realizes he’s been actively rubbing his face into a pair of underwear—

“Fuck, what the hell!” he scoffs, his face hot all over as he tosses the item back in the bag. Dazai purses his lips and doesn’t say anything else, but Chuuya can tell that he’s amused anyway. “I’m taking the whole damn thing and you can just deal with that, okay?” 

He scoops up the bag again and marches right into his bedroom, tossing the bag onto his bed so he can deal with it later. (And by deal with it later , he means he’ll dump it all out on his bed and roll around in it a bit before taking a nice long nap.) Or that’s what he plans on doing, but his stupid pregnancy brain is losing its shit over the scented clothing, and he can’t help but grab out that same pair of boxers he’d been inhaling before. He’ll just take another quick hit of it, it won’t be a big deal…just a quick inhale and then he’ll go off and tell Dazai to scram.

What he doesn’t account for, is that the scent has other effects on his body as well. Out of seemingly nowhere, his pussy is soaked, and his cocklet is so hard that it’s probably making a tent in his thin pajama pants. ( Probably, only because Chuuya can’t actually see it due to his stomach being in the way.) 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself. He should just yell to Dazai and tell him to go—

But when he turns around, the alpha is already there, standing in the doorway with his pupils blown wide.  

“Chuuya…I think I should leave, huh?” Dazai rasps, because whatever the hell is going on all of a sudden, he can feel it, too. Chuuya’s throat is dry, and when he tries to agree with him, he just can’t get the words out. Because the idea of the alpha leaving makes him unexpectedly sad. 

Against his better judgment, he shakes his head. “I don’t…I don’t want you to.” 

Logically, he should leave. It would be for the best since they haven’t fully talked about what boundaries should look like now that they’re apparently on limited speaking terms again. But every other fiber of his being wants the alpha. Wants to be devoured by him. 

“Shh…it’s okay,” Dazai whispers, moving in swiftly and gently nudging Chuuya to sit back on the edge of his bed. He moves with him easily, knees hanging over the edge as Dazai pulls on the waistband of his pajama pants like he just knows exactly what his omega wants—What his omega needs. 

Just like that, he drops to his knees and lets his tongue slide against his wet, aching folds. Chuuya gasps, squirming against the mattress as Dazai laps it all up, licking delicately at first before driving his tongue into the depths of his heat. 

“D-Dazai,” he gasps, propping himself up on his elbows to try and get a good look. The alpha doesn't budge, just continues to eat him out like his life depends on it. His stomach isn't so big that he can't see him, but can't get a good look at the way his mouth works over his cunt, and it's just as frustrating as it is exhilarating. 

Dazai removes his tongue, but only to replace it with two fingers. He stays where he is though, instead taking his cock into his mouth and sucking. Chuuya's head feels like it's going to spin right off his shoulders at any damn minute…Between the intensity of his alpha's pheromones, and the sudden, visceral need  to orgasm, he's not sure which way is up anymore. 

“I'm gonna— Fuck, Dazai!” He cries out, pulling at the alpha's hair as his hips buck and his climax hits so hard he sees fucking stars. 

As he comes down, he struggles to catch his breath, heaving as if he's just finished a hard workout. All he can do is lay there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what the hell had just come over him. 

“Are you…Okay?” Dazai asks, after they've been sitting in silence for the longest three minutes of Chuuya's life. 

“I'm…I don't know what that fucking was,” he suddenly says, sitting up and eyeing the alpha, who's now sitting back on his knees and still on the floor. “But I feel great.” 

Dazai's eyes light up at the declaration, like he's taking it as a personal compliment. And, if he's just as driven by his instincts as Chuuya is, then he probably does take pride in making him cum so quickly. 

“So…” Dazai trails off. “What was that about?” 

Chuuya can feel his face heating up again as he snatches up his underwear and puts it back on, suddenly feeling way too exposed. 

“Don't know, don't read into it,” Chuuya demands. 

“Okay,” Dazai says, and Chuuya genuinely can't tell if he's upset by that or not. If their conversation from the night before was any indication, then it would be safe to assume that Dazai is still eager to do whatever he can to please Chuuya right now. 

Just as he tries to think of something else to say, he notices the way Dazai's eyes drift past him and stop at the sonogram stuck to his wall. He stares at it for a moment, and even though he doesn't say anything, Chuuya gets it. He was also overcome with emotion when he first saw them. 

“Is that…them?” Dazai swallows thickly. 

“Yeah.” 

The urge to push Dazai out of the way and yell at him to get out of his house is strong. From past experiences, he knows it would give him a momentary sense of comfort, an illusion of safety, to push Dazai away before he can hurt him again. 

But eventually, the sense of security will pass, and Chuuya will realize that he's self-sabotaged again. If there's any hope of repairing their relationship, any hope of having that loving little family he's always dreamed of…

Without letting himself dwell on it a second longer, Chuuya reaches over and takes the picture of the ultrasound from the wall. He looks at it for a moment, a picture of his two perfect little blobs that have been keeping him company on even his worst nights. 

“This was at six weeks, so they're pretty small,” Chuuya says quietly, before finally handing him the picture. Taking it in his hand, he stares at it for a bit, his expression unreadable. It makes Chuuya's nerves go haywire because what if he somehow realizes that he hates them—

“I gotta be honest,” he says and Chuuya braces himself for the worst. “I have no clue what I'm looking at.” 

Oh. 

“Let me see,” Chuuya sighs, taking the photo back and motioning for him to come and sit next to him on the bed. Dazai complies, and is good about leaving enough space between them so that he's comfortable… “Right here, and there.” 

He points to the two blobs that he's let himself become very attached to over the past few months. 

“Oh, wow,” Dazai says softly. “That's really…Something. And how many weeks are you now? Or months? I really know nothing about this kind of thing.”

“Clearly,” he teases, smiling and then catching himself… “Um, almost eighteen weeks. A little over four months. I get to find out the sexes next week.”

“That's amazing,” Dazai tells him. “Will you get another one of these?” 

He nods, his chest feeling a little fuzzy. He's well outside his comfort zone, but things are going smoothly so far and Dazai seems genuinely interested. 

“Yeah,” Chuuya says. 

They sit in silence for a few moments as Dazai stares at the sonogram. It's always been hard to tell what the alpha is thinking, but this time Chuuya’s absolutely stumped. He has no idea what Dazai wants out of this and he's not sure he's even ready to hear his answer. 

“Can I tag along?” 

Chuuya nearly chokes. He's been doing so well with staying calm this entire time, with trying his best to let Dazai back in. But he has to draw a line somewhere, right? He can't just let himself dive head-first into a fantasy world. 

“No, that's—I'm not ready for that,” he says, taking in a slow, steady breath. There's a hint of disappointment in the pair of brown eyes that stare back at him, and Chuuya isn't sure what to make of that. 

“That's okay, I understand,” Dazai says, handing the photo back to him. 

Chuuya chews on the inside of his cheek, nervously mulling over his thoughts. Is he being too rash? Is he self-sabotaging again? Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Their relationship is so weird and everything is out of order that Chuuya doesn't even know how to interpret his actions. They aren't a couple, he reminds himself, and he's not even sure what he wants them to be. 

“Do you want a copy?” Chuuya asks, averting his gaze from Dazai’s face. “Of the sonogram…when I get it.” 

“I'd like that,” Dazai tells him, simply. 

“Okay,” Chuuya says, nodding. It's like an olive branch, in a way. An offering to let Dazai know that even though he'll still keep his distance, he doesn't hate him. 

He never really did. 

Over the next weekend, Chuuya has plans to meet with Kouyou to do some window shopping for the babies. He's still kind of overwhelmed by the idea, but he agrees to go along as soon as she offers to pay for lunch. 

“Holy fuck, why are strollers so expensive?” Chuuya scoffs, checking the price tag on one that looks nice and nearly fainting when he sees it. 

“Because they have to be safety tested and all that…And you need a double, so that increases the cost,” Kouyou tells him. 

Speaking of strollers, she has one that she pushes along that holds her still-sleeping toddler. According to Kouyou, she's oddly comforted by noisy places and always sleeps when she takes her out to shop. 

“Damn, how did you get all the crap you needed? The list I've been working on feels like it never ends,” he complains. 

“Well, the baby shower really helped—Oh, I bet the department would love to throw you a party!” She exclaims like the idea suddenly struck her like lightning. “It could be low-key if you want, but I think it would be nice.” 

“I don't know if that's a good idea,” Chuuya groans. “It would be awkward if Dazai was there.” 

“Why?” 

He holds in a gasp when he realizes what he said, and that despite their growing friendship, he never got around to telling her the truth. Whenever the subject of the father came up, he just beat around the bush and she never pushed the subject. 

“I don't know, who cares?” he scoffs. “I was just kidding. He's stupid.” 

She gives him an odd look. “Why are you so defensive? Did something actually happen with Dazai that you're not telling me about?” 

Chuuya gulps. “No, nothing.” 

“Chuuya. You know, with the sudden switch, I had wondered if there was another incident with the class. Did he do something weird? Was he discriminating against you because of your pregnancy?” 

“What? No,” Chuuya mutters. “It's complicated…” 

“Really? How so?” 

He glances around the store, like he thinks someone from the university might pop out of nowhere with a recording device and camera. Gotcha!

“Ah…You can't tell anyone.” 

“I swear.” 

He winces. “He's kind of…the father?” 

Kouyou's eyes grow huge at the admission. “Oh my—Well that's not what I was expecting at all. Was it consensual?” 

“Yes, yeah, of course,” he reassures her. “I hid it from him for a while and when I finally told him, he didn't take it well. That's why I asked to move.” 

“Does Fukuzawa—” 

“ No! The only people who know are Yosano and Junichiro from my cohort. And Dazai, I guess.” 

“Damn, Nakahara,” she says, still seemingly in disbelief. “That explains why he seemed so close with you that one night at happy hour.” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Chuuya sighs. 

“Are you two still together?” 

He hates the way that question stings. 

“Ah, we never were… together. It was supposed to just be casual sex, but then…first time's the charm, apparently.” He walks further down the aisle, pretending to busy himself with a bassinet.

“So he still doesn't plan on helping you at all?” She scoffs. 

“Like I said, it's complicated. I think he's coming around but I don't know what I actually want from him,” he explains, which is the truth. “It would be nice if things just magically fell into place and everything would work out. But it's not that simple.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don't know? What if he…what if he hurts me again, you know? That really sucked when I first told him, it was embarrassing and he said some awful things…”

“So you're afraid he's not actually coming around for good? That makes sense I guess,” she sighs. “It's too bad. If you two were on better terms, I would have said your baby furniture problem is solved. But I’m sure you already know that.” 

Now it's Chuuya's turn to give her a curious look. Because no, he doesn't know. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, his book is an international, prize-winning, best seller,” she says. He knew about the book, but just thought it was a boring textbook…

“So…” 

“ So, it means, your alpha is loaded.” 

Chuuya considers it for a moment, and thinks back to the nice car he drove him home in. He's never actually seen where he lives or paid attention to the brands he wore or anything. Back at the Christmas party, he hadn't even flinched when Chuuya jokingly asked him for a million yen. 

Whatever, his financial status doesn't change anything, either way. If he ends up being an asshole again, Chuuya will kick his ass regardless of how much money he has to his name. 

That being said, he does tuck that little bit of information away for later. 

Chapter Text

The next appointment has Chuuya weirdly excited. The idea of going to the doctor regularly kind of freaked him out at first, but now that he’s been in the routine of these monthly check-ups, he’s starting to feel more and more at ease. This one is even more exciting, though, because he’ll get to see his twins on the ultrasound again and see how big they’ve gotten. 

When he gets to the exam room, he’s able to lay back on the exam table, his top half propped up far enough that he can comfortably see the screen without craning his neck. The other good thing about this exam, is it’s more like the ultrasounds he’s seen on television or whatever. They squirt some gel on his belly, which is warmer than he’s prepared himself for, and then press the wand against his skin. 

“Let’s see where they’re hiding,” Dr. Mori says. 

“Can you not see them?” Chuuya asks, wondering if he needs to worry. 

“Don’t worry, it takes a second,” he assures him. “Have you felt any movement yet?” 

Chuuya shakes his head, because he really hasn’t. There were a few times where he’d felt some fluttering and immediately took to the internet to find out if it was the baby, but nope—Just gas, like always. 

“Ah, there we go,” he says, finally stopping in one place. Chuuya stays glued to the screen as the swirling grey focuses in on…a head! A head that he can actually see! And then another one…

“Oh wow, they look real,” Chuuya says, in absolute awe of the two babies huddled together on the screen. His throat feels a little tight, and holy shit, he’s not about to cry in the doctor’s office...He just hadn’t expected to feel so many emotions seeing his twins’ faces. Or what he can make out of their faces, anyway. 

“They’re growing every day, it’s amazing isn’t it?” 

“Yeah…” Chuuya breathes. 

Out of seemingly nowhere, he gets this slight pang of tightness in his chest at the passing thought that it would have been nice for Dazai to see this, too— And he feels stupid all of a sudden, because he was the one who told Dazai he didn’t want him there, that he wasn’t ready. At the time, he was so convinced that if he’d brought him along and it turned out that Dazai was not in it for the long run, he would have been crushed to have shared that moment with him. 

Maybe he was overthinking it. 

“Um, can I make a phone call? Or even a video call? I don’t know if that’s allowed,” he asks quickly, blinking away tears. Moments like these might not ever happen again, and he could either live in fear that he might one day regret it, like he does with everything, or he can dive first and listen to his heart instead. 

Dr. Mori looks confused at first, but then softens, and it gives Chuuya this oddly reassuring feeling that he knows exactly what he needs to do. “By all means.” 

Even though his heart is pounding in his chest, he pulls out his phone, scrolls to Dazai’s contact with shaking fingers and presses the video call option. He stares at the little icon that spins as it tries to connect, and anxiety almost gets the better of him and he’s just about to end the call when Dazai answers. 

The video distorts as he moves the screen a little too quickly, but then Dazai comes into view, his hair a little askew as if he’d just woken up. 

“Chuuya? Is everything alright? I thought I was still blocked—” 

“I’m fine, we can talk about that another time,” Chuuya cuts him off. “I’m…I’m at the doctor. I know what I said the other day, and—I just wanted you to see them, too. If you want to.” 

Fuck, he’s a mess.  

At least he can still blame hormones.

Dazai stares back at him, and for a second, Chuuya wonders if the video is frozen. But then his head starts to move in a slow, steady nod. “Yeah, of course.” 

Chuuya swallows and smiles through his tears, before turning to the screen and trying to figure out the best way to show Dazai what’s going on. Pointing the camera at the ultrasound screen, he tells him about the two heads and how the doctor says they’re healthy. 

“Would you like to finish the appointment while he's on the phone?” Dr. Mori asks, putting the ball in Chuuya's court, which he is thankful for. 

“That's…fine. If you want to, that is,” Chuuya says, pulling the phone back into his own view so that he can see the alpha on the screen. His eyes are soft and his smile is gentle when he nods. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“O-okay, um,” Chuuya says, looking around for the best way to prop his phone up. 

“Here, let me help?” The nurse, Elise, offers. Chuuya thanks her quietly, then hands the phone to her so that she can point it in the right direction. From that angle, there's no doubt that Dazai can see him with his shirt up and his belly exposed, so he tries not to look right at the camera. 

“Alright, so it wasn't as clear on your last ultrasound, but if you look here…” Dr. Mori goes on to explain something about the placenta that Chuuya doesn't really get—He doesn't really care about the screen aside from his babies’ faces. “Which is basically a long winded way of saying that your twins are identical.” 

“Oh,” Chuuya says. That means they'll be the same sex, and have the same secondary gender, too. 

“Which leads me to the next part…I can either tell you the sex now, or I can put it in a sealed envelope that you can look at later.” 

“Why would I want you to do that?” Chuuya asks, mostly because he's been looking forward to finding out all damn month!

“Some people like surprises,” he says, with a shrug. 

“Well I hate surprises, just tell me,” Chuuya scoffs, and he swears he can hear Dazai laughing through the phone. 

“Alright,” He says. “Well, in that case, congratulations on two healthy baby girls.” 

“Oh my god,” Chuuya breathes. He really didn’t know what he wanted—Honestly, there wasn’t much of a preference anyway. As soon as he hears the news, though, he has himself convinced that this is exactly what he wanted—Two beautiful twin baby girls. 

He goes over a few more things, including listening to the heartbeat and checking on Chuuya’s own vitals. After he wipes the gel from his stomach and allows him to sit up again, Elise hands the phone back to Chuuya. When he sees that Dazai is still on the screen, patiently waiting, he feels the heat start to rise in his cheeks. This is so embarrassing!  

“Hey, um, I’ll talk to you later, I guess,” Chuuya says, awkwardly. 

“I’ll look forward to it.”  

“Right…bye,” he clears his throat and hangs up the call. 

“Was that father?” Dr. Mori asks, once Chuuya puts his phone away. 

“Yeah,” Chuuya admits. “That reminds me that I actually wanted to ask you something.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Well…uh, this is awkward,” Chuuya squirms uncomfortably as his face turns a darker shade of red. 

“I guarantee it’s nothing I haven’t seen or heard before.” 

“Ah, okay, so we’re on slightly better terms now, so I asked if he could scent something for me to keep…I don’t know, it just seemed like it would be nice to have something that smelled like his pheromones or whatever…so he brings me this whole damn bag of crap and I don’t know what happened, I feel like I lost my mind for a minute.” 

Dr. Mori considers his story for a moment before posing a question. “And was this…perhaps, reminiscent of what you might feel during your heat cycle?” 

Chuuya nods. 

“So, it’s nothing to worry about, first of all. A sudden increase in sex drive can be a symptom of pregnancy, which can be triggered by pheromones like that. If you wish to satisfy those urges, I would encourage you to do so…And what did you do with the clothing from your alpha?” 

“That’s a personal question, isn’t it?” he gapes at him, and he’s not sure his face can get any redder than it already is. 

“Well, the reason I ask is because this is around the time where many omegas start to nest,” he explains. Chuuya’s heard about nesting, he knows what it is, but he’s never experienced it for himself. “Let me guess, you’ve suddenly found yourself worried about where your babies will sleep, you feel the need to rearrange all your furniture, buy new furniture…right?” 

“Yeah, actually,” Chuuya says, actually feeling a little relieved. So he isn’t totally losing his mind; his pregnant omega brain is just in nesting mode, apparently. “I put my bed into the corner of my bedroom and piled all the clothes into the corner.” 

“Classic nesting behavior, nothing to worry about,” Dr. Mori smiles. “It’s your instincts helping you to prepare for your pups, that’s all. Even if it feels strange, as long as it’s safe to do so, I would allow yourself to give into those instincts whenever you can. It’ll put your mind at ease.” 

“That makes me feel better, thanks,” he says, smiling. 

“I will say, though, especially if your alpha is around you more frequently…As you progress further in your pregnancy, you may start to notice some symptoms in him as well,” he explains. “Is he a prime?” 

“Yes?” He’s not sure why it comes out sounding like a question. 

“Primes tend to become a little more territorial and protective, especially toward the end of the pregnancy,” he explains, and for some reason that just doesn’t feel quite right. He’s already noticed Dazai being a little clingier than usual. Sure, he’s eager to please because he knows he fucked up, but he was feeling that instinctual pull that day as well. 

“So then…how do you know if an alpha cares about you or if he’s just being driven by his instincts?” Chuuya scoffs. 

“Simple,” Dr. Mori says with confidence. “A prime alpha won’t get territorial over someone he doesn’t care about. I tell people this all the time—Instincts may exacerbate certain emotions, but they don’t replace them altogether.” 

Chuuya nods slowly, the words playing over and over in his head already: 

A prime alpha won’t get territorial over someone he doesn’t care about.

—

Dazai is getting antsy. 

He hasn't spoken to Chuuya since the doctor's appointment, which was a very strange conversation to begin with. Getting a call from the omega was surprising in the best way, but he definitely was not nearly as emotionally prepared for seeing the images of the babies. Whatever was going through Chuuya's head, he clearly wanted Dazai there. 

And he's thankful. He really is. 

But not knowing where they stand is killing him. He wants to give Chuuya time and space to think things through because ultimately he's the one carrying the twins—At the same time, Dazai doesn't even know if they're his. 

To better phrase it, he knows they're his biologically, being around Chuuya again, he can definitely sense it. Instinctually, biologically—Those parts make sense. But he doesn't know if Chuuya even wants him to be a part of raising the twins. For a moment after their video call, he started imagining two red headed little girls running around, and whether or not he should start learning how to braid hair. 

He had to stop himself, though. 

If he isn't going to have any part of it, then he doesn't want to set himself for that kind of disappointment. He's really not sure his heart could take it. 

“Good morning, Dr. Dazai, I brought you the coffee you asked for,” Akutagawa says, entering his office and interrupting his thoughts. He stares at the omega for a moment, blinking himself back to reality. 

“Oh, thanks,” he murmurs, taking the cup from him. 

Today is their first day back in the office, preparing for the start of the second semester. A whole new group of undergraduates and the same, boring TA. 

He's just about to give Akutagawa some random, menial task to do when the scent of warm vanilla, sugar, and milk hits his nose. Dazai holds his breath and glances towards the entrance right as Chuuya steps into the doorway. His heart somersaults in his chest because holy shit Chuuya is willingly here to see him!

“Fuck, sorry, you're busy, I'll come back,” he grumbles, looking between Dazai and Akutagawa. Immediately, Dazai can sense that whatever he wants to talk about, he doesn't want to do so in front of Akutagawa. 

“No, it's fine, Akutagawa was just leaving,” Dazai says. 

“I just got here,” Akutagawa reminds him. 

“Right, but I was about to ask you if you could go make copies of the syllabus. Oh, and if you could check my mailbox for me, that would be great. Thanks!” He exclaims, pretending not to notice the way he mutters under his breath before leaving again. 

Chuuya clears his throat and then shuts the door behind him. “I just came by to give you this.” 

He produces an unmarked, yellow envelope from his jacket pocket and hands it to him. Taking the envelope, he already has a pretty good idea of what it is, but he still experiences a rush of warmth in his chest when he pulls out the sonogram of the twins. He smiles for a moment before the joy starts to fade. 

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

“I'm sorry about the other day, I know that was weird,” Chuuya says. 

“Don't be, I asked to come along, didn't I?” He tries to smile but it doesn't feel genuine. 

“Yeah, and I thought I didn't want you to, but then as soon as I saw them on the screen, I just…Nevermind,” he grumbles, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. 

“You just what— Tell me, Chuuya.” 

The omega takes a deep breath, then blows it out in an annoyed huff. “I just couldn't stop thinking about how I wished we could both be experiencing…seeing them for the first time. And I know that's crazy and I wasn't thinking straight…I never even asked you if you wanted to be a parent.” 

Dazai swallows thickly. 

“And you don't have to give me any answer right now but—”

“Yes.” 

“What?” He blinks in Dazai's direction, like he can't quite believe what he's saying. 

“I want to. If you want me to be a part of their lives, I don't know if I'll be any good, but I want to try,” he says, earnestly. 

“It can't just be try, either you're in it or you're not. I want you to be in their lives. And that doesn't mean just for a little while…it means for the rest of their lives,” Chuuya says, which strikes Dazai a little harder than he's expecting. “I don't know what your plans for the rest of your life are, but being a dad is going to change that whether you want it to or not.”

His throat tightens again. 

“I didn't really have any plans,” he says, honestly. This wasn't something he wanted to burden Chuuya with, but he feels like he needs to say it. “I've always assumed I'd end up dead in a few years anyway.” 

The look on Chuuya's face morphs from serious to confusion to concern in a matter of seconds. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you dying or something? And don't even say that we're all dying or whatever, this isn't your lecture.” 

“Funny, that's exactly what I was going to say next,” Dazai sighs. The omega before him doesn't back down or let him slither his way out of this one with a smile. “I've always thought that my eventual cause of death would be by suicide.” 

“Well, are you still planning on killing yourself?” He asks, without missing a beat. Not exactly the follow up question he was expecting, but he'll take it. 

“Not at the moment.” 

“Well, good. Think of it this way—We both lost our parents young, we know that shit sucks. You don't wanna do the same thing to our kids if we can help it. So, do whatever you gotta do to stay alive, okay?” Chuuya's words don't sound nice or warm or anything, but there's a caring sentiment there that touches Dazai's heart anyway. 

“I promise,” He says. 

“So I'll ask you again—Do you want to be a parent?” 

“Yeah, I do,” he nods, still without even a second of hesitation. 

“Okay,” Chuuya says, seeming like he can breathe a little easier all of a sudden. It must have been difficult for him to confront Dazai with such a serious question. His heart breaks just a little at the thought of Chuuya being fully prepared to raise the girls on his own. 

He's about to ask another question when Chuuya suddenly gasps and clutches his stomach in surprise. 

“What? What's wrong?!” Dazai hisses, rushing to his side in a panic as he automatically assumes the worst. Is he in pain? Are the babies coming— No, that doesn't make sense! 

“Nothing, fuck,” Chuuya says, breathlessly. Then, instead of explaining, he grabs Dazai's hand and places it against the side of his stomach. 

His own breathing hitches at the gesture, because this is the first time he's felt the omega’s pregnant stomach and he's not sure what Chuuya is trying to do— Oh! 

Dazai gasps at the same time Chuuya does when he feels the tiny flutter against his hand. The smile that spreads across his face is entirely involuntary. 

“Is that—” Dazai asks, stopping himself when it happens again. They both look up at the same time, their eyes meeting. Chuuya’s eyes seem to sparkle, and it takes a surprising amount of restraint on Dazai's part to not kiss him. 

“This is the first time I've felt them kick,” Chuuya says, amazed. “I wonder if they can smell you.” 

“Probably,” Dazai says, even though he doesn't actually know if that's right or not. It sounds right. 

“You know, my doctor said that if you're around me a lot, you might start experiencing symptoms as well,” Chuuya says, which Dazai can also believe. “That you might feel territorial or protective of the babies.” 

Dazai considers it for a moment, his mind wandering to the way he was always on edge before Chuuya told him what was really going on. He'd really felt like he was ready to kill the imaginary alpha that he convinced himself Chuuya was seeing. (Even now, the idea of another alpha near his pups seems awful.)

But he doesn't dare bring that up now. 

“Interesting. Also, does this mean I'm not blocked anymore?” He smirks, ready to lighten the mood when Chuuya blushes pink again. 

“Oh, um, about that,” Chuuya mumbles. “While we’re being honest here, I should probably tell you that I never actually blocked your number. I was just mad at you and wanted you to think I did.” 

“Well that's a relief— Wait,” he stops himself and stares at Chuuya as the omega's face grows redder. “Oh, Chuuya, that's so embarrassing ! Ugh, you should have said so! How will I ever live this down?” 

He's not legitimately angry, and thankfully it doesn't seem like Chuuya takes it that way either. 

“I know! It's not like it was that bad,” Chuuya groans. 

“My pride as an alpha—I'm wounded.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Chuuya says, with a playful smirk. 

It feels good to smile in his presence again. Things aren't necessarily the way they were before, but it's nice to know that Chuuya doesn't hate him, and is even willing to have him co-parent their pups. 

Selfishly, though, he wishes there was more to it. He wishes he could kiss him breathless and buy him a ring and everything in between…But for now, he'll have to take what he can get. And maybe, just maybe he still has a chance.

“Anyway, I gotta get going. Ranpo's doing this thing where he's giving each of us a topic to lecture on at some point in the semester, and I got the worst one,” Chuuya groans. 

“Oh yeah? What's the worst one?” 

“The Ship of Theseus,” He scoffs, like the phrase is poison. At first, Dazai laughs because he assumes Chuuya is joking, but he only glares harder when he does that. “The fuck is so funny?” 

“The Ship of Theseus is so easy,” he says. “It's very interesting.” 

“It's stupid. Like…You replace all the parts on his ship and guess what? If he owns the ship, then it's still his fucking ship, who cares,” he says, with a surprising amount of animosity towards a fictional boat. 

“I hate to say this, Chuuya, but I don't think you're getting it,” Dazai says, watching the omega frown again. 

“Excuse me? It's for an introductory course, I think I understand one of the most basic thought experiments there is.” 

“Then explain it to me. Pretend I'm Atsushi.” 

“Fine,” Chuuya says, with determination. “The Ship of Theseus Paradox is a thought experiment about the continuity of identity. Theseus has this ship, and over time they end up replacing every single piece of the boat and everyone wants to know—Is it still his ship?” 

“A wonderful elevator pitch, go on.” 

The omega lets out a frustrated groan before continuing. “So, my point is that it doesn't matter what the fuck the boat is made out of, if Theseus says it's still his ship, then it's his fucking ship. It's not like there's two ships now.” 

“But is it the same, original ship?” Dazai asks. “The question is about the identity of the ship, not its title or to whom it belongs. Sure, it's still his ship, no matter which way you look at it, but is it the same ship?” 

“I don't know why I'm even talking to you about this,” Chuuya scoffs. It's both frustrating and adorable how defensive he gets when he has to admit he doesn't understand something. 

“Because I'm the one who already has his Ph.D.” He gives the omega a playful smirk. 

“Ugh, whatever,” Chuuya groans, then checks his watch again. “I actually do have to go, though.” 

“Alright, sure,” Dazai hums, slipping the sonogram back into the envelope so that he can tuck it away somewhere that's safe. “I guess this means I'll be seeing you again soon?” 

“Yeah…I guess so, is that a problem?” 

“Not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.” 

Chuuya stares at him for a moment, like Dazai's words have somehow caused a short circuit in his brain. 

“Okay, bye.” 

And then, just like that, he's gone. This time, however, Dazai isn't bogged down by a crippling sense of doom or sadness. Simply knowing that he'll see Chuuya again soon, and will be seeing him for the foreseeable future…that's enough for him to hold onto. 

After a few minutes, Akutagawa returns to the office with the papers Dazai had asked for. 

“Is Nakahara begging to be in your course again? I know this is bold of me to say, but I will not be trading places with him again,” Akutagawa says assertively. Had he practiced that the entire time he was gone? Of course he'd be worried about his position being taken away; he has not been shy about his admiration of Dazai or Dazai's book. 

Even though Dazai would love to have Chuuya back in his lecture, it doesn't seem as important anymore. They have other things to focus on. 

“Easy, tiger,” Dazai teases. “Chuuya isn't coming back, you don't have anything to worry about.” 

“He's not? Then what business does he have interrupting our meeting?” 

“Again, I assure you, it's nothing you need to worry about, Akutagawa,” Dazai says, a little more firmly this time. He doesn't really like the way that the other omega is insinuating that Chuuya is some sort of nuisance. Sure, they have work to get done, and Chuuya did actually interrupt them before they could even get started…Still. 

“Right, my apologies,” Akutagawa bows his head respectfully before taking a seat. 

“Hey, how's Atsushi?” Dazai asks, grinning widely as he suddenly remembers running into the two of them over break at the Christmas party. “Is he taking another philosophy course this semester?” 

“Thankfully, no,” Akutagawa sighs. “And…he's doing quite well.” 

“ Quite well, hmm? How did you manage that, by the way? You knew him for only a few weeks before you started dating,” he explains. He omits what's really on his mind—The fact that he’s known Chuuya much longer and he’s done pretty much everything except get Chuuya to date him. 

“That hardly seems like an appropriate topic of discussion,” Akutagawa says, clearly embarrassed that Dazai’s suddenly asking him questions about his love life. 

“Oh, please, it’s not like I’m asking what he’s like in bed! How did you make him like you? That’s all I want to know,” Dazai explains. The omega purses his lips, still seeming like he isn’t wild about the conversation topic. 

“Is this a secret interrogation? I was careful to not break any rules, however, if I’m being questioned I need to know so that I can—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I’m not interrogating you. Who cares if you’re dating an undergrad, right?” 

“I think a lot of people would care, actually. It’s considered ethically dubious to—”

“Okay, whatever,” Dazai says, cutting him off. “You’d be surprised by how many people are in ethically dubious relationships. Point is, I don’t care about all that, I’m just looking for some pointers on how to woo an omega.” 

Akutagawa stares at him for a moment, his eyes widening. “Are you trying to woo Nakahara?” 

“Ha! What? Don’t be silly, Akutagawa. Now that would be ethically dubious,” he laughs nervously. 

“Oh, okay. I was starting to wonder if there were other reasons he came by to visit you…Anyway, Atsushi wanted extra tutoring sessions right before finals, and I offered to meet him at a coffee shop right down the street. We met, studied, and then had a very engaging conversation. After finals, I made the bold move to ask him to get coffee again. He agreed, and we had engaging conversations again—” 

“Alright, boring,” Dazai groans. 

“And then, Atsushi invited me back to his dorm room—”

“Oooh—”

“To which I said ‘ No, that’s disgusting, I won’t be caught dead in an undergraduate dormitory. ’” 

“Such a romantic.” 

“But I did invite him to my own apartment, and we shared some beverages and…did…other things,” he says, clearing his throat. “That’s how it started, I suppose. Really, I decided to be bold when the moment was right…Nakahara was the one who told me to go for it. I suppose I should thank him.” 

“Chuuya gave you relationship advice?” Dazai snickers at the irony, and tucks that piece of information away for later. Akutagawa only shrugs. “Well, thanks I guess. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“You’re welcome, sir. Can we please talk about something else? Coursework, for example.” 

“Fine, fine,” Dazai groans, officially dropping the topic. 

He doesn’t stop thinking about it, though. 

If anything, all he can think about is all the different ways he can win Chuuya over. 

Chapter Text

Everything starts to get a lot busier once classes start back up. Chuuya’s courses seem like they've suddenly gotten heavier in terms of workload, and he’s had to put in overtime hours just to stay ahead of all the damn reading he has to do. He’ll stay up into the early hours of the morning every night, and sometimes even wakes up still sitting on his couch, or at the kitchen table. 

It’s fine at first, but now he’s starting to feel like crap. Partially due to his fucked up sleep schedule (It also doesn’t help that his babies like to start kicking him in the bladder while he’s trying to rest), and partially due to the fact that all of the scented clothing from Dazai has gone stale, and he hasn’t even had time to see the alpha in person in the past couple of weeks to get a good scenting off of him. 

Things are better now, he thinks. Dazai’s willing to be a parent, and their conversations are starting to feel normal again. Deep down, Chuuya knows that Dazai meant it when he said he could ask him for whatever he needs…but that’s way easier said than done! 

Or at least he thinks it is until Dazai texts him out of the blue on a Friday evening. 

Dazai: Have you eaten yet? 

When he reads the message, he's sitting at a conference table, waiting for Ranpo to wrap up a meeting. All of the other teaching assistants are there as well, some taking notes, others looking like they want to get the hell out just as badly as Chuuya does. This professor really just likes the sound of his own voice, Chuuya thinks. 

Chuuya: Nope. Still in a meeting. 

Dazai: Would you like to get dinner with me afterwards? 

Chuuya stares at the text wide-eyed. Is this…Is Dazai asking him out? It feels silly to be flustered and embarrassed by a text from the man he's about to be raising babies with, but holy fuck, it catches him by surprise. Still, it would be catastrophic if he were to interpret it the wrong way…

Chuuya: why? 

There. 

That sounds nonchalant enough without being mean or anything, right? Besides, it's not like Chuuya is ready to go running into the guy's arms right now anyway. (Even though he knows it would feel so nice.) 

Dazai: I was just thinking we haven't had much time to talk since last week. 

Oh. Right. 

Ever since Dazai agreed to be a part of raising the twins, they've both been so busy that they haven't had much of a chance to talk about what that's going to look like. The list of things they have to do to prepare for their arrival seems endless, but Chuuya has to admit that it’s a lot less daunting knowing that someone is going to split the workload with him. 

“So that’s it for this week, does anyone have any questions?” Ranpo asks, clapping his hands together loudly as he wraps up his speech. Chuuya straightens up, blinking because he’s not sure what the hell they just went over. No one says anything else, so Ranpo dismisses the group. 

Chuuya: Just finished actually 

“Nakahara, just a moment,” Ranpo says, catching him right before he makes it to the door. He bites back a frustrated groan and turns around. On her way out, Kouyou shoots him an apologetic look, but leaves him on his own anyway. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” Chuuya asks, as his phone vibrates again. He doesn’t look at it, though, just shoves it right back into his pocket. 

“You haven’t submitted your lecture for the Ship of Theseus paradox,” Ranpo says, point-blank. 

That stupid fucking ship again! 

“Hold on, I can submit it right now—The lecture’s not for another few weeks, though.” Chuuya points this out, but doesn’t really expect it to matter much. Ranpo isn’t one to change any of his decisions on a whim. He sits back down and takes his laptop out of his bag. 

“You’re correct, but the due date for the lecture was last night,” he explains. “Consider this a token of my goodwill, I don’t usually allow late submissions.” 

After fielding countless emails from freshmen begging to turn in their late assignments for full credit, Chuuya is well aware of this policy. 

“Thanks,” he mutters, sarcastically. He locates the file on his computer and sends it in an email, just as Dazai decides to poke his dumb head into the room. 

“There you are, I—Oh, hey Ranpo, what’s going on?” Dazai says, thankfully catching himself when he realizes that the beta professor is still in the room with him. Chuuya lets out an annoyed huff and slams his laptop shut. 

“I was wrapping up for the evening. Nakahara just needs to send over—Oh! There, I got it,” he says, right as his computer’s email notification chime goes off. “I’ll send you any necessary edits by Monday.” 

“What’s this for? Something exciting?” Dazai asks, leaning against the doorframe. Maybe it’s just Chuuya’s paranoia, but he can’t help but get so anxious every single time he ends up in the room with both Dazai and someone else from the department. It’s like he suddenly forgets how to act around the alpha, and he hates it.

“You know how Fukuzawa wants me to give my candidates more lecturing opportunities? I’m having them submit their lectures in the form of a long-form lesson plan for my approval beforehand,” he explains, as if Chuuya, one of said candidates, isn’t sitting right there. 

“Ohh,” Dazai says, his eyes crinkling as he tries not to smile. “And what’s Chuuya lecturing on? Hmm?” 

“The Ship of Theseus Paradox, I figured it was the easiest one to not mess up.” 

“The hell is that supposed to mean?!” Chuuya snaps. Ranpo isn’t one to joke around like Dazai is, though Chuuya has learned he does typically mean well. That being said, Chuuya is still one to take things personally. 

“It’s very important to me that my lectures all flow a certain way in order to hit key points—You can run your discussion section however you want to, but the main lecture is still my domain. I’ve observed Dazai’s lectures before, and his style is not suitable for a course that needs to cover a vast range of topics in the field that span globally,” he explains, as if it should be obvious. “Basically, out of everyone on the team, you’ve had the least amount of experience with this course. It’s not a reflection of your knowledge.” 

“Oh,” Chuuya says, deflating a bit. 

“That’s very diligent of you, Ranpo.” Dazai smiles. 

“Anyway, did you need something? I have to get going,” Ranpo tells him, thankfully assuming that Dazai was just stopping by to see a colleague and not the mother of his unborn children. 

“Nope, just saying hi,” Dazai says, stepping back into the hallway before mouthing to Chuuya that he’ll meet him at his car. 

After waiting a beat, Chuuya finishes re-packing his bags and tells Ranpo good night before finally heading out of the stupid conference room. Once he’s out of the building entirely, he heads to the staff parking lot where Dazai had been parked last time and locates that same black, luxury sedan. 

Before he even gets to the door, Dazai jumps out from the driver's seat and beats him to the passenger door.

“What the fuck?” Chuuya scoffs. “I know how to open a door.” 

“I just wanted to be polite,” Dazai tells him, smiling. He's acting all sweet and kind, but for some reason Chuuya feels like he's waiting for a punchline. 

“Weirdo,” he mutters, finally just getting into the car and pulling the door shut himself. Dazai gets back into the driver's seat and starts the car. 

“Was the meeting that bad?” Dazai asks. 

“Don't wanna talk about that, it's Friday,” he groans, adjusting himself in his seat before pulling his seatbelt on. And then, of course, it takes forever to make the damn thing comfortable and not cut into his stomach. 

“Right, of course,” Dazai says. “Ah, what are you hungry for?” 

“Cheeseburgers,” he says without hesitation. He's been thinking about them all damn day, actually. “Like a big-ass cheeseburger.”

“Really? Wow.” 

“What’s that reaction for?” Chuuya scoffs. 

“No reason, just surprised. You ordered a salad at happy hour that one time,” he reminds him. “Who the hell orders a salad on a Friday night at the pub?” 

“Fuck you, that place has the best wedge salad on campus.” 

“You’re extra feisty today,” Dazai chuckles, and Chuuya shoots him the harshest glare he can muster up. “Sorry, sorry, you’re hungry and pregnant, I shouldn’t tease you.” 

“Exactly,” he huffs. “You don’t understand, I don’t want a cheeseburger. I need one.” 

“I believe you, we will go get you the biggest cheeseburger we can find,” Dazai says, amused by their conversation. “Does this happen often? Cravings?” 

It’s an awkward attempt at conversation, and Chuuya grimaces internally, but he doesn’t point it out. 

“It comes and goes,” Chuuya shrugs. “I’ve been craving mostly spicy stuff, but my doctor basically told me to lay off of it because it gives me heartburn.” 

“Are you alright? Cheeseburgers won’t give you heartburn, will they?” 

“I don’t know, and I don’t care—Okay, I care, but if I don’t eat a cheeseburger, I might kill someone.” Sure, he’s being dramatic, but he’s pregnant. He’ll ride that excuse as long as he possibly can. 

“Very interesting. I can’t believe I’ve never considered whether or not it would be morally just to commit murder in the name of a hamburger,” he muses. 

“A cheeseburger,” he corrects. 

“Ah, right. That changes everything.” 

Chuuya presses his lips together, hiding the way they suddenly want to smile. Dazai, on the other hand, doesn’t hold back. He’s grinning from ear to ear and Chuuya can’t remember the last time he’s seen the alpha smile like that. Then again, he’s also not sure he can remember the last time conversation between the two of them was easy. 

Dazai ends up stopping at a diner that serves American food, and they find a booth inside. 

“This is fucking perfect,” Chuuya says once he gets his food, finally biting into the cheeseburger and nearly bursting into tears. 

“I’m glad. It means a life was spared tonight,” Dazai grins. 

“So you wanted to talk, right?” Chuuya says, remembering the whole point of them going out to eat. It’s not like they’re on a date or hanging out as friends. 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Dazai shrugs.  

“Yosano and Kouyou want to plan a baby shower,” Chuuya tells him. “I told them no at first, but then I was thinking about it more and…Apparently that’s how you get stuff, you know? But I also think it might be weird if there’s a bunch of people from the department there.” 

“I suppose so,” Dazai nods. “They wanted to hold the shower with the department?” 

“Yeah, that’s what Kouyou suggested. Would that be weird? You’d have to pretend like they’re not yours, though,” Chuuya explains. And he only adds that last part knowing that Dazai’s instincts have him feeling a little more protective and territorial. 

“Yeah, I don’t know…I probably just wouldn’t attend. It would be hard to be at a party that’s all about our babies and pretend like I know nothing about it,” he sighs, which is pretty much what Chuuya assumed he would say. “What is it that you need?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You said that’s how you get stuff,” he points out. “What do you need?” 

An earlier conversation with Kouyou flashes in his mind briefly. 

“Uh, I don’t know…diapers, clothes, toys, bottles, bath stuff, furniture—” 

“Okay, so a lot of stuff,” Dazai says, stopping him for a moment. “Send me a list and I’ll buy what we need.” 

Chuuya stares at him for a moment, perplexed. Now this, he hadn’t predicted. Honestly, he just assumed Kouyou was exaggerating when she made those comments about Dazai being rich. 

“Are you sure? The strollers I saw were like, seventy thousand yen,” Chuuya tells him, trying not to read too much into the way Dazai doesn’t even bat an eye. “I was thinking: bigger purchases we could split, and then we could ask for the other stuff on a registry.” 

“Or, just make a list and I’ll buy it,” Dazai says, smiling. “It’s not a big deal, I promise.” 

“That’s—I can’t just let you do that, we should split it, at least,” Chuuya scoffs, his heart suddenly racing. He’s not sure why the conversation has him all flustered, but it does. Who the hell just casually comes out and offers to pay for all the shit he’s been stressing about being able to afford?! 

“The way I see it, we still are,” Dazai shrugs. “You’re the one actually carrying the pups, and that seems a lot harder than me just swiping my debit card, doesn’t it?” 

“Well, when you say it like that it makes sense,” he grumbles. “Still. You’re a university professor, how are you going to foot the entire bill all by yourself?”

For a moment, Chuuya swears Dazai’s scent goes dark, and his own instincts recoil at the sudden change in scent. But just as quickly as it comes on, it's gone and then Dazai is smiling again. Maybe he won’t say it outloud, but it makes it pretty damn clear that Dazai’s instincts are already kicking in. His alpha definitely didn’t like the insinuation that he didn’t make enough to provide for their pups. 

So weird. 

His inner omega fucking loves it, though.

“You’re right, I don’t make enough as a university professor. However, my book has been in publication globally for years now, and I still make money every time a copy is sold. Universities around the world are using it for their courses, not just ours…All of that, in combination with the inheritance I received from my parents’ estate, I have a pretty generous amount saved up,” he explains casually. 

“Well, fuck, I didn’t know that,” Chuuya says. Apparently Kouyou was right. His alpha really is rich! 

“Usually it’s not polite to discuss finances,” Dazai sighs. “Do I need to show you my tax returns? Or do you believe me?” 

“N-no, I believe you,” Chuuya says. 

“Cool, so it sounds like you can check that off your list,” Dazai says. “When are you due? Early May?” 

“Yeah,” Chuuya replies. “If everything works out the way it’s supposed to, then the due date will be right after finals.” 

“And if it doesn’t work out that way?” Dazai asks. 

“Don’t fucking know,” Chuuya sighs. “It’ll either be the best timing or the shittiest timing.” 

“If you talk to Fukuzawa, I’m sure he’ll help you make arrangements,” Dazai shrugs. Chuuya wants to agree, but he already feels kind of bad since Fukuzwa has already helped him out a lot with making arrangements for his current situation. Especially since Chuuya technically lied about his reasons for needing said arrangements. 

They talk some more about things like baby food and potential names, all cleverly dancing around the biggest question: What will their living arrangements look like? It’s been gnawing at the back of Chuuya’s mind ever since they’d last talked about parenting. They could split their time between the two places, but early on they’ll have to stay with Chuuya in order to breastfeed. While they’re on better terms now, Chuuya is nowhere near asking about whether or not they should just move in together. 

In the blink of an eye, the night is over and Dazai is pulling up to park outside of Chuuya’s apartment building. His heart feels a little heavy in his chest because it’s actually been so nice getting to talk to the alpha again. But he also doesn’t really have an excuse to invite him upstairs, either. 

“Hey, how are those scented clothes doing?” Dazai suddenly asks. Chuuya stares at him for a moment, wondering if it’s possible that Dazai was also looking for an excuse. But he quickly shakes that thought away. 

“They…” he trails off for a moment when he realizes that this is actually perfect. “Actually, they’ve lost their scent. Your scent. You know…” 

“Oh, well, if you want, I could come up and scent them again, if you think that would help? The scent helps, right?” Dazai asks. Chuuya nods. 

“Yeah, and the doctor actually said that it’s good for the babies if we give into instincts when we can,” he blurts out. And he really is referring to the clothes, but the way Dazai stares back makes him realize what else he could have been insinuating. 

“Did he?” Dazai hums. 

“I didn’t mean like—The scenting and stuff, you know?” Chuuya sputters, his face heating up right away. He grimaces and turns away for a second. Why the hell is this still so embarrassing to talk about? It shouldn’t be! They used to flirt all the time! 

“But, ah, other stuff is also okay,” Chuuya adds sheepishly. “Per doctor’s orders.” 

“Of course.” 

Chuuya clears his throat and gets out of the car. 

Once they’re upstairs and in the apartment, Chuuya feels a little more at ease. The tension has faded a little bit. The only sexual encounter they’ve had in months was that one time where Chuuya got needy and Dazai ate him out. Aside from that, they’ve both kept their hands to themselves. 

He unzips his coat and hangs it up on the hook by the door before venturing further into the house and also removing his hoodie. The philosophy building is drafty, but his apartment is not and he can feel the effects of that immediately. When he turns back around, Dazai stops and stares at him like he’s suddenly speechless. 

“What?” Chuuya scoffs. “You can pick your jaw up off the ground, I’m just taking my sweatshirt off, not my whole damn shirt.” 

He thinks he’s being funny until Dazai says, “You’re um…I think…Something happened.” 

It’s not like him to get all weird and awkward, so Chuuya only feels more confused by his response, not sure what he could possibly be talking about. But then, he follows Dazai’s stare down to his chest. 

“What the fuck?!” Chuuya shrieks, immediately throwing his arms around his own chest to cover up when he sees the two wet spots that line up with his nipples. His face burns, but he immediately runs to the bathroom and slams the door shut before Dazai can even think about following him or saying anything else about it. 

Once he’s alone, he removes his t-shirt and tosses it to the ground, turning his attention to his nipple. They’ve been puffy and irritable, and Chuuya’s definitely noticed his own chest filling out a bit. He remembers reading somewhere that male omegas tend to need to express more milk before birth because they have much smaller breasts that don’t fill out as easily. Which also means he’s more likely to experience something embarrassing like leaking through his fucking shirt! 

It hadn’t happened yet, and of course it has to happen when fucking Dazai is watching! Damn it.

Curious, he pinches one nipple, watching wide-eyed as white liquid starts to bead. Holy shit, he really is lactating. 

Dazai knocks on the bathroom door and Chuuya nearly faints. “Are you alright?” 

“Fine!” Chuuya cries out. “I’ll be there in a second!” 

Dazai doesn’t respond, but Chuuya can still sense that he’s right outside the door. He waits a few seconds to see if he’ll go away, but he doesn’t…Which is when it occurs to him that maybe Dazai can smell the milk. It’s strange, and not like anything Chuuya’s ever experienced before. He’s been through heats and other instinctual things, but he’s never produced milk. Dr. Mori did say they should give into their instincts when they were able to…

His heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of his chest, but he slowly turns and pulls the bathroom door open anyway. Sure enough, Dazai’s still standing there, pupils wide and his scent already thick with pheromones. 

Normally, he’d find something like this weird and maybe even off-putting. 

And instincts are weird.  

Chuuya gently pulls on Dazai’s hand and leads him down the hallway to his bedroom, because whatever it is that Dazai wants to do, they’re not about to do it in the bathroom. He sits them both down on the edge of his bed. 

“Just do it,” Chuuya mutters, noticing the way Dazai can’t seem to get a damn word out all of a sudden.  

“What?” 

“Give into your instincts, you should just do it,” Chuuya clarifies. 

Dazai stares at his chest, specifically at his puffy, wet nipples. Swallowing hard, Chuuya leans back on his hands, feigning confidence as he puffs his chest out a bit. Part of giving into instincts is also trusting that his omega knows what the alpha wants. 

Slowly, Dazai leans over and places a hand on Chuuya’s belly, softly caressing it before dropping his hand down to rest on his upper thigh instead. The touches are so light, so oddly intimate that it makes him dizzy for a moment. 

And then Dazai’s lips close around a nipple. 

Chuuya gasps because holy shit. Dazai’s sucked on his nipples during sex before, but there’s something different now. This sensation makes him want to curl in on himself and purr like a damn cat. It’s electric and soothing all at once as the alpha’s wet lips start to gently suckle. He can feel the way the liquid flows a little differently, and can feel when his alpha swallows it. 

As Chuuya’s breathing slows, his mind gets a little hazier. He’s not really sure how to describe what’s happening other than the fact that it feels better than being scented. Somehow, they end up both lying in his bed, on their sides and facing each other. 

After a while, Dazai pulls away and Chuuya whines. Not for much longer, though, because as soon as he’s done with one, the alpha immediately closes in on the other, sucking and lapping up every drop of milk he can. When he's done, he flattens his tongue against the bud, like he's making sure he got it all before pulling back. 

Wordlessly still, looks up so that they're eye-level with each other. They both just stare, lying there together like neither of them quite have the words to describe what just happened. Or maybe they do, and they're just waiting to see if the other might be brave enough to say it first. 

That Dazai just drank the milk coming out of Chuuya’s nipples like it was his last meal on Earth.

“So that's new,” Chuuya finally says. 

“Is it?” Dazai asks, still sounding a bit dazed. 

“Yeah…Uh, it's normal though? The doctor said it's normal,” Chuuya assures him. “Whatever I'm producing now isn't for the babies so I have to get it out somehow.” 

“Hmm…Not to make things weird, but I'd gladly help you with that again sometime.” Dazai smirks, and he sounds like he's teasing, but Chuuya can tell that he's one hundred percent serious. With a lofty sigh, Dazai rolls onto his back to stare up at the ceiling for a moment. When he lays back like that, his hair falls away from his eyes and leaves his forehead bare. It gives Chuuya this weird urge to lean over and kiss it. 

But he doesn't. 

He'll behave. 

After everything they talked about at dinner, he's starting to feel a little more at ease about bringing the twins into this world. It's nice to know that they'll be born to parents who already love them, and can afford everything they need to be comfortable. That's all he wanted out of this, wasn't it? 

“I don't think it's that weird,” Chuuya mumbles quietly. “You liked it?” 

He doesn't know why, but his omega feels proud. Like he's done something amazing to care for his alpha. 

“Pretty sure you've got liquid cocaine coming out of you,” Dazai snickers. 

“Okay, now you've made it weird,” Chuuya scoffs. 

“What? I'm just being honest,” he sighs, before sitting up. “Anyway, I came up here for a reason, didn't I? Where's the…Oh.” 

He doesn't even get the full question out before he turns his head and realizes he's already surrounded by the clothes he'd dropped off a few weeks ago. Chuuya props himself up on one elbow and tries to play it off casually. 

“This is also normal, just so you know,” he says. 

“Uh-huh, yeah,” Dazai teases, looking up at him with an oddly soft expression. Does he have any idea how handsome he is? 

“It's called nesting,” Chuuya insists. “Oh stop looking at me like that, it's not any weirder than you wanting to breastfeed.” 

“I didn't say it was.” 

Dazai sits up and Chuuya follows suit. Cool air from the fan on the other side of his bedroom hits his chest when he sits up, and he can't help but hiss at the sensation. 

“Cold?” Dazai asks. 

“No.” Chuuya lies. 

Somehow, Dazai sees right through it anyway. Without saying anything else, he removes the knit sweater he'd been wearing and reaches over to slip in right over Chuuya's head. He groans in protest, and is ready to tell Dazai off for being weird, when the scent from the sweater suddenly seems to radiate off of it. Okay, so maybe this is pretty nice. 

“I don't need this, but I'm keeping it anyway,” Chuuya tells the alpha, pulling it all the way on and slipping his arms through the sleeves. The sleeves are much too long, so he has to push the ends up over his hands. 

“It looks better on you,” Dazai tells him, reaching out to lightly brush away a piece of Chuuya's hair that had fallen out of place. His cheeks burn because what the hell? 

“Well, it's getting late,” Chuuya says quickly, his heart running wild with the sudden softness from the alpha. This wasn't something he'd prepared for at all, and he frankly doesn't know what the hell to do! 

“Right, I guess I should get going then?” Dazai asks. 

Chuuya swallows and nods. Then Dazai gets up from the bed and Chuuya stands with him, still wearing the alpha's oversized sweater. 

“Can I say good night at least?” Dazai asks. “To the girls?” 

Chuuya can't make eye contact with him, but he nods anyway. Even though he's not sure what the alpha means by that, he likes the idea of the alpha acknowledging their pups. 

They're both quiet as Dazai kneels in front of Chuuya and places both hands on either side of his belly. “I have to go now, sleep tight. Be good for your mommy.” 

Chuuya's red, red, red and he's pretty sure he can't get any redder than he already is until Dazai presses a gentle kiss to his stomach before standing again. He watches, wide-eyed as the other man stands once more and gives Chuuya an unreadable smile. 

“Good night, Chuuya.” 

“Night,” he whispers. 

Part of him wonders if he should invite the alpha to stay a little longer, to stay the night. But he's pretty sure there are still boundaries between them somewhere. It's almost impossible to tell where those boundaries begin and end anymore, and yet Chuuya is still so afraid of crossing a line that he can't come back from. 

Things are going well; the last thing he wants to do is ruin what they have. 

Whatever that is.  

Chapter Text

Dazai tried to take a page from Akutagawa’s book, hoping that dinner and an engaging conversation would be a great way to win Chuuya over. However, apparently he wasn't clear enough with his intentions, because Chuuya seemed to think they were only getting together to discuss their co-parenting plans. 

And because it was all important stuff that they actually did need to discuss, Dazai couldn't find it in himself to clarify. It just didn't seem appropriate, especially when he's also trying to show Chuuya how serious he is about the twins. (And he is—He’s very serious about how much he wants to be a part of raising them.)

He thought he'd get a second chance to clear the air when he was invited upstairs, but then there was the whole milk debacle and Dazai realized that if he clarified his intentions after that, it might make him feel awkward. More awkward than he clearly already was. 

That being said, the night wasn't bad at all. He enjoyed spending time with Chuuya, of course he did. It's just that he can't help but selfishly want more. And yes, he gets the physical things, like touching him and scenting him and giving into instincts. What he yearns for is more of that, but also to be able to just hold him close, fall asleep with him in his arms…All the things that feel almost impossible to achieve. 

—

First thing on the following Monday morning, Dazai gets an email from Fukuzawa, the department chair. It's nothing out of the ordinary, and doesn’t mention specifics, it’s just a simple request for Dazai to stop by his office when he gets a chance. And he just happens to get a chance to swing by that very same morning.

“Hey, boss, what's up?” He says, slipping right into Fukuzawa’s office. There are two armchairs directly across from the man's desk, and Dazai casually flops down into one of them. 

Fukuzawa stops what he's doing, then gets up to shut the door before letting out a tired groan. So this is a doors-closed kind of conversation, huh?

“Something wrong?” Dazai asks, genuinely not sure what the department chair could possibly need to talk about. Sure, he’s had some issues in the past, but in the past few weeks he’s been squeaky clean. (As long as you ignore the parts where he’s planning on co-parenting with the graduate student he impregnated last semester.)

“This stays between the two of us,” he says, which is always a fun way to start a conversation. “It seems that Ranpo is struggling with Nakahara.” 

Dazai blinks, his brain faltering at the mention of Chuuya's name. “I'm sorry…why do I need to know this?” 

He doesn't want to get involved if he doesn't have to. This is one of those times where his instincts greatly conflict with his own common sense. If he gets involved, then it's technically a conflict of interest. (Nobody knows it is, though.) But on the other hand, his instincts tell him to jump in immediately to defend his omega. 

“I know that you worked well with him in the past, so I was hoping that you'd have some pointers for him. Ranpo, that is,” Fukuzawa explains. “He was very stressed out this weekend reading Nakahara’s lesson plan, apparently.” 

“That bad, huh?” Dazai muses, though his mind is more focused on the fact that it's strange that Chuuya is having such a hard time with a simple paradox, of all things. When they worked together, he was able to explain complex ideas like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

“I assumed it was his typical issue of candidates not meeting his own level of perfectionism, but I took a look at the lesson plan and, well…” he sighs and hands Dazai a printed copy. It only takes him a few minutes to scan it over to get the gist of what the problem is. 

Instead of going with the flow and accepting that maybe his idea is, well, wrong, he's really digging his heels in. Not only that, but the arguments he describes are all over the place and contradict each other without ever fully fleshing out any ideas. It's concerning because Dazai knows for a fact that Chuuya is a better writer than…whatever the hell this is. 

“This is pretty bad…” he murmurs. But he's not sure what he can really do. 

“I figured you might be able to help him get back on track.” 

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he says, the wheels in his head still turning to come up with a good explanation. 

“I think it's better than Ranpo's idea.” 

“And what was that?” 

“He wanted me to drop him from the program altogether,” Fukuzawa says, shaking his head. Dazai lets out an awkward chuckle, and is ready to brush past the uncomfortable comments. 

“Ranpo should cut him some slack, right? He’s pregnant, after all.” In the past week, Dazai has learned a lot about all the pregnancy symptoms Chuuya has been having, in addition to all the things he's been stressing out about.

Fukuzawa lets out a deep sigh. “That is what I told him.” 

“I just don't think Chuuya is going to listen to me,” Dazai admits. He only partially believes that—That guy is way too prideful for his own good! A graduate assistant makes pennies compared to what Dazai has, and it still took a lot of convincing for Chuuya to let him buy things off of his own kids’ gift registry. 

That, and he's just gotten back on good terms with the omega! This would definitely throw a wrench in his personal plans! 

“I'll call Ranpo in here and see what we can do,” Fukuzawa adds. Dazai gives a noncommittal shrug and Fukuzawa pauses their conversation to make a quick phone call down to Ranpo's office. Not even a full minute passes after that before the beta is bursting in through the door and then slamming it behind him. 

“Well, have you read it yet, or not?” He asks Dazai in a very accusing tone. Dazai leans one elbow against the armrest of the chair to look up and give Ranpo a quizzical look. 

“Read what? This literary masterpiece?” Dazai teases and holds up the lesson plan. 

“You can't be serious right now!” Ranpo says, exasperated. “I swear this kid is an idiot—” 

Just like that, the situation isn’t funny anymore.

“Hey, why don't you watch your fucking mouth!”

The words are leaving Dazai's lips before he even realizes what's happening. One moment he's fine, joking around and thinking of ways to worm himself out of this one…And then the next moment he just fucking snaps. It's like he blinks and then he's suddenly standing, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. 

Fukuzawa and Ranpo stare at him wordlessly, and he can feel their mixed sense of shock and concern. 

“Just kidding! Hahaha, you should see your face,” Dazai suddenly laughs, waving his hands like he's trying to whisk away all of the tension. 

“Right…let's take this seriously, Dazai,” Fukuzawa reminds him, and his shift in tone tells him that he means it. Dazai has heard that exact same tone during the many times they've met to review the various complaints about his lecture. Clearing his throat, Dazai nods and sits back down, refusing to even look in Ranpo's direction. 

It's strange. 

He's never disliked Ranpo, has never harbored any resentment towards him in any way. But for some reason, he now worries that if he looks at the beta for too long, he might pounce on him and rip his throat out or something. 

“Here's the deal—Nakahara has good grades, he hasn't given anyone any reason to assume that he can't handle the workload. I don't believe it would do anyone any good to make another switch. Ranpo, I called Dazai this morning because he was successful in working with Nakahara previously,” Fukuzawa says. He's always been good at being diplomatic, which is probably why he's the one in charge and not, say, Ranpo. “Dazai, do you have any words of advice for Ranpo?” 

Yeah, he should stop talking shit about Dazai's omega! 

Fuck. 

“Well,” he says through gritted teeth. This time he catches himself before he explodes, and stops to steady himself instead. “Chuuya likes to argue, and you can use that to your advantage in a lecture. I've found that telling him he's wrong almost never works. Instead, you have to find a way to lead him to the right answer.” 

“Telling him he's wrong is the most efficient way for me to communicate that he is, in fact, wrong,” Ranpo refutes. “Arguing during a lecture seems messy and inefficient.” 

“And yet, I do it all the time,” Dazai sighs. “How are you going to inspire Chuuya to be open-minded if you're not also open to new ideas?” 

“Hmm, I suppose you do have a point there,” he says, sounding mildly frustrated by that fact. Dazai smirks, finally feeling a little more at ease. 

“There you have it, problem solved,” Dazai says, pushing himself up from the chair again. “Well I have to leave.” 

“Sit, Dazai,” Fukuzawa says, surprisingly firmly. 

Dazai blinks. 

And then sits back down. 

“Ranpo, I'd like you to consider Dazai's advice. Give yourself plenty of time to actually think about it, too.” Fukuzawa gives his word like it's a command, and Ranpo nods obediently. “That's all. You can go now. Dazai, I'd like to talk to you about something else.” 

Dazai lets out a dramatic groan and slumps back in his seat. “Now I feel like I must be in trouble or something.” 

“What the hell was that, Dazai?” Fukuzawa growls, leaning against his desk to hold his head in his hands. 

“What do you mean?” 

“We've known each other for…what? Four years now? I don't think I've ever seen you yell at someone like that,” he explains, sitting back up again. Dazai's stomach twists, and he doesn't need to hear any more to understand where Fukuzawa is going with this one. 

“I didn't sleep well last night,” Dazai offers, and it's technically not a lie. 

“Dazai.” 

“Maybe I'm already in rut, oops! I better go home—” 

“ Dazai, I need you to tell me exactly what's going on. You know you’re already on thin ice with the board, so please tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he says. “I can’t keep getting you out of every situation that you get yourself into.” 

Dazai purses his lips, trying to figure out what the hell he’s supposed to say to that. He's well aware that his relationship with Chuuya has been a little… ethically dubious, as Akutagawa had put it. And since learning about the pregnancy, he’s also been well aware of the fact that one day, it would be nearly impossible to hide what they'd done. 

He just thought he had a little more time to think of a good plan. 

“You want me to tell the truth, and yet you don't want me to tell you that it is what you think it is…So I guess my answer would depend on what you think is going on, right?” Dazai is being purposely facetious, but he's still desperately trying to figure out exactly what he can say to make things sound better than they are. 

“It would be a very serious accusation…Let me rephrase: Why did Nakahara Chuuya request a new advisor? The real reason,” Fukuzawa insists. 

Dazai sighs—He absolutely can't tell him the real reason. But that's only because he cares more about Chuuya's trust in him than he cares about Fukuzawa's.  And Chuuya would hate the idea of anyone thinking he couldn't handle something. 

“Chuuya thought there would be a conflict of interest if he continued to stay on as my candidate,” Dazai says. “He didn't want to get me in trouble, he's very noble.” 

“Are you the father, then?” Fukuzawa asks. 

“I just need a little more time to figure out an exit strategy—” 

“Are you?” He repeats. 

“...Yes,” Dazai finally admits. His alpha swells with pride, but professionally speaking, this isn't something to feel proud of, so it just feels wrong. 

“Damn it, Dazai,” Fukuzawa grits, letting his fist fall against the desktop. “You are on probation— If the board finds out about this they will terminate you this time and I won't be able to stop it. You understand that, right?” 

Dazai nods, keeping his expression cool and calm as he thinks. “They won't find out. I just need to come up with a plan.” 

“What plan could possibly undo the fact that you got your candidate pregnant?” 

“Technically, there is no written rule against it,” Dazai points out. 

“That won't matter when it's added into all of your other infractions. How could you have let this happen? Do you not take this job seriously?” 

“I do,” Dazai says. “Trust me, I take it very seriously.” 

“No, you take the subject seriously, and time after time again, you’ve allowed your passion for the subject to overtake the fact that you are an educator. You are a professor, here to lecture on a subject that you are an expert on, and as such, you have a responsibility to your students—”

“Stop, first of all, Chuuya is not my student and never has been. In fact, I’m not responsible for any of the graduate courses! And now, he isn’t even my candidate, so we solved that problem!” he says, nearly exasperated at this point. 

“But this clearly happened while he was your candidate,” Fukuzawa sighs. “Does anyone else know about this?” 

“Aside from a few of Chuuya’s friends? No,” Dazai confirms. 

“Good. Keep it that way, and hope the board never finds out. If they do, I’m not going to try to reason with them again,” Fukuzawa warns him. Dazai nods silently. “I’ll be honest, there are only two scenarios where I can see things working out with minimal outrage.” 

“And what two scenarios might those be?” 

“Either you resign, or he drops out.” 

Although he isn’t necessarily surprised by the ultimatum, hearing it out loud like that still makes his shoulders heavy with guilt. He doesn’t want to resign…however, he also doesn’t want Chuuya to have to give up on a dream because of Dazai’s lack of foresight. 

“Right, well…I’m sure I’ll figure something out. I just…I just have to think about it,” Dazai insists. 

Fukuzawa doesn’t seem thrilled, but he lets a few moments pass before he finally relaxes. 

“Are you happy, at least?” 

The words he speaks are relatively plain; an ordinary, expected question to ask when one finds out about such an incredible life event. But Fukuzawa knows a little more about Dazai’s past than most people do, and his ordinary words carry so much more weight. Dazai’s throat grows tight, so he only nods at first. 

“Things aren’t perfect…But I’d say I’m happy. I’m really looking forward to being a father,” He smiles in Fukuzawa’s direction, already feeling a little lighter at the reminder of his girls. Even if things go to shit in his professional life, it's nice to know that he still has something else to be proud of on the way. 

“I am glad to hear that, truly,” the department chair nods. “I won't say anything, but I'm also not going to go out of my way to help you.” 

“I understand, I wouldn't expect you to,” Dazai says. “And if anyone ever asks, I'll tell them you knew nothing.” 

“Of course.” 

Dazai clears his throat. “Am I in the clear now? Can I leave?” 

“No, unless you have any other secret affairs I should know about?” 

“No, absolutely not,” Dazai assures him. “Just Chuuya.” 

“Then, you're free to go. Good luck with everything. Genuinely.” 

Dazai doesn't say anything in response to that, just flashes one last smile before heading out the door. As soon as he's out of the office he lets out a big breath, finally able to relax a little bit after not even realizing how on edge he had been throughout that whole meeting. 

“Meeting with the boss on a Monday morning? Someone must have been reported again,” a familiar voice says. Dazai groans and turns around, not particularly surprised to see that Fyodor also happens to be walking down the hallway. 

“Actually, no, everyone just seems to need my help this morning. Is that why you're here now? You need me to fix something for you?” Dazai doesn't cross paths with Fyodor often, but when he does, he never feels great about their conversations. He's smart and teaches a few different courses on law. That being said, a couple of years back, after Dazai had to go to a board hearing over complaints about The Philosophy of Death and Dying, he'd heard that Fyodor went to Fukuzawa and asked to take over Dazai's course. 

Fyodor will never admit to it, but Dazai knows it wasn't just a rumor. 

“Funny,” Fyodor says, with a smug grin. “If I ever needed help, I'd ask a professional.” 

“Still can't take a joke, I see,” Dazai tuts, shaking his head. “Well, see ya around.” 

Fyodor mutters something under his breath but Dazai doesn't acknowledge it. Instead, he continues to his own office and shuts the door behind him. He moves to sit down at his desk and takes out his phone. Then, he scrolls to his photos and opens up the one he'd taken of the most recent sonogram of the girls. 

Looking at them gives him a weird sense of peace. It's almost like…even though this is causing a lot of stress and drama, they're the reason it'll all be worth it.

The next week fucking sucks for Chuuya. 

All he wants to do is sit on the couch and daydream about what his twins are going to be like when they’re born. Will they look more like him, or more like Dazai? And is it weird that he’s not even sure what he’d prefer? At the very least, he’s grown to accept the fact that they’ll probably end up with Dazai’s height. After doing an obsessive amount of research on genetics and secondary gender, he’s learned that there are certain traits that a prime alpha is almost guaranteed to pass on to their offspring—traits like size and intellect and athleticism. All things that link back to instincts and traits that were necessary for survival back in the day.

Anyway, with all of that going on, he’s found that it makes it hard to concentrate on other areas of his life. Like his stupid Ph.D. candidacy. He’s always gotten good grades without trying, and as things start to pick up, it’s proving to not be as easy as it used to be. Part of him wants to blame it on pregnancy brain, or on Ranpo being a fucking hard ass for no reason. But another part of him, much deeper inside, knows that the truth is that his heart just isn’t fucking in it. 

He went back to school because he couldn’t figure out what he wanted to do with his life, which was embarrassing to admit. And he’s always been good at philosophy, so it only made sense that he’d go back to pursue it. The first semester was fun, but that was probably because he was also fucking his advisor. 

On the off chance that he’s just in a slump because he’s pregnant and stressed, it would be stupid for him to make any rash decisions. Even though Dazai  has made it clear that he has more than enough money than he needs to be able to support the twins financially, how would that make Chuuya look if he decided to drop out on a whim and then not be able to contribute anything?  

People would think that he just couldn’t handle it. 

That he’s a fucking deadbeat. 

That throughout his entire life, he couldn’t even stick to one family, so why would he think he could stick to one subject for the rest of his life? 

If he gave up on this path, then who would he even be?

How can Ranpo expect him to give a lecture on identity when he doesn’t even know who he is himself? Fucking pathetic. 

“So, I’ve been super patient with you, Chuuya, but you’re starting to piss me off,” Yosano says, waving her hand in front of Chuuya’s face. He jumps, blinking himself back to reality, which happens to be their happy hour spot. It’s a little awkward being in the middle of a busy pub while five months pregnant, but he likes being included. That, and sometimes taking care of his drunk friends feels like extra practice for motherhood. 

“Huh? Why?” he scoffs. Yosano groans dramatically and slams her beer down against the table. 

“You said you were going to find out the sex last week and you still haven’t updated us!” she says, sounding outraged. She and Junichiro are both several drinks in, already slurring their words and flushed in the face. 

“Oh, did I not tell you?” Chuuya asks, because he genuinely can’t remember whether or not he told them. (He could have sworn he did, though.) 

“No, you definitely didn’t,” Junichiro adds. 

“Well… shit,” he sighs, pulling out his phone. He’s saved a copy of the sonogram on his phone. The physical copy is pinned to his wall next to the first one, but the digital versions are nice. That way he can look at them whenever he needs a reminder of what’s to come. Because despite everything going on in his head, he’s genuinely excited about his babies. 

When he lands on the right photo, he turns the screen around so that he can show Yosano. She takes the phone from him and squints at the image, studying it before shaking her head. “Yeah, I’m too fucking drunk to tell. Just tell me! Chuuya, please…”

“They’re both girls. Identical,” he says, unable to help the way his lips curl upwards when he mentions them. 

“Holy crap that’s awesome! Congrats!” Junichiro cheers. 

“Is that what you wanted?” Yosano asks. “And, congrats, of course.” 

“I never really thought about it…but I definitely like the idea of two girls,” he says fondly. “I was looking at a blog the other day with all these pictures of twin girls in the most adorable matching outfits and…I was literally fucking crying.” 

“Oh my god, yeah, Chuuya you’re so cute,” Yosano coos. To which Chuuya immediately scoffs and pulls his phone right out of her hands. 

“Fuck off,” he tells her. “It’s not my fault that everything makes me cry right now.” 

“Oh, obviously,” Junichiro says. “It’s still cute, though.” 

Chuuya scrunches up his nose in a scowl and rolls his eyes. “Not cute.” 

“Did you tell Dazai about the sex?” Yosano asks. Chuuya grimaces, knowing that she’ll probably also be mad that he hasn’t shared much about what he and Dazai have been up to lately either.