Chapter Text
“Oh, hey. You’re pretty good at that!” A feminine, bubbly voice calls out from behind him.
Jesus. Fuck.
Chuuya did absolutely not flinch at the sudden noise directed at him, so you can shove that thought right back where it came from.
He turns around to face the voice he recognizes as Uraraka. She’s holding a bowl of sliced meat with both hands curiously peeking into the pan on the stove.
“Thanks,” He says, stepping aside so she can dump the meat into the growing pile of fragrant vegetables that Chuuya’s been tending to since the class started making dinner a while ago. He'd fallen into the old habit of zoning out when he’s cooking, stirring the contents of the pan on autopilot and letting different thoughts fly about and intermingle in his head.
He’s about to turn back to the stove when he subconsciously picks up on the student lingering next to him. He looks up at her and gets a slightly nervous smile in return.
“Soo, do you cook a lot at home? You seem very experienced.”
Chuuya glances at her again and turns back to the food before replying,
“I mean yeah. That bastard Dazai sure as hell can’t cook for himself, so if I didn't he’d starve.”
That’s true. While Chuuya likes to complain about always having to babysit his partner, Dazai is very capable of fending for himself. Unless you hand him a knife to chop vegetables, put him in front of a stove or let him drive a car– then somebody’s getting hurt.
So when the teachers announced they’d have to make their own dinner tonight, and the Kitchen Dictator (also known as Tenya Iida), approached Dazai to have him help with chopping carrots, only a second passed before Chuuya was dragging the mafioso away to sit at a table by himself and peel garlic cloves with his hands. For everybody’s sake.
He smiles mindlessly, already lost in thought again. Though he’s quickly snapped out of it when Uraraka speaks up again.
“Oh, that’s sweet of you. Does that mean you two live together? I guess that would explain why you’re so close.”
“I guess,” Chuuya shrugs, feeling done with the conversation. “Mind taking over this?” He asks her, tilting his head down towards the pan.
“Sure?”
Without another word, Chuuya walks to the back of the room where he’s stationed his partner. He takes in the mess of the table and the heavy scent of garlic hanging in the air.
“W- Dazai!”
The brunette looks up with an innocent expression, mischief dancing in his one visible eye.
"Hmm?" he just answers, tilting his head with a small smile on his face.
Just an hour ago, Chuuya had handed his partner a big basket of garlic bulbs, instructing him to peel some cloves for dinner. Well, the basket is now entirely empty and on the table lies hundreds of peeled garlic cloves. The papery skins litter the entire floor in a five foot radius and the kitchen will forever smell of onions.
Oh, god .
Before Chuuya can even come up with anything to say, someone calls out that dinner is ready, telling everyone to take a seat.
Chuuya’s not in the mood for any more invasive meal conversations, and he doubts Dazai is either. So he hurries to get some food for the both of them before they leave. Chuuya grabs the two bowls with one hand, mentally willing himself not to drop anything as he hooks his free arm lightly around Dazai’s waist, guiding him out of the building.
Dazai hums softly, rolling a peeled clove between his fingers like it’s a coin. The distant murmur of students fade behind them. They settle down on the dry, even ground by the base of a big oak, finishing in comfortable silence. The forest is quiet, the first stars peeking through the darkening sky. The air is crisp, carrying a chilly, foreboding calm.
When Dazai moves to put his bowl down, his sleeve brushes against his leg– and for some reason, it makes Arahabaki stir inside of the redhead.
The feeling takes Chuuya by surprise: Arahabaki has been uncharacteristically quiet and calm during their time at U.A. He assumes it has to do with how close he’s been to dazai the entire time. But now, for some reason, it decides to wake the fuck up. At least it’s a happy wake-up and not an I-need-to-destroy-the-world type of wake-up.
He stares up at the bright stars above and lets his thoughts wander to the calming sounds of his partner existing beside him. Dazai hums quietly, spinning a twig between his fingers.
“Quiet tonight,” he says, voice soft, casual. Nothing pointed, but Chuuya’s heart hammers anyway as tunes back into reality.
“I’m just thinking,” Chuuya mutters, cheeks heating up. He shifts slightly, careful not to bump into Dazai, though every subtle movement feels like it might betray how close they are.
Dazai tilts his head, studying him like it’s a game. “Thinking about me?” he asks lightly, as if joking.
Oh, he’s teasing. Don’t look flustered. Don’t.
“As if,” Chuuya says too quickly, voice rougher than he intended. “Stars… and, uh, the forest. Yeah.”
How very fucking nonchalant of you, Chuuya.
—
Dazai hums again, letting himself be entertained by his partner’s sudden shift in mood. He shifts a little closer—subtle, just enough that Chuuya should notice.
“Mm. Pretty stars.” He murmurs, letting the other half of that sentence remain unsaid, hanging in the air like mistletoe. Chuuya quickly looks away, lips pressing together. Dazai laughs nervously, rolling the twig between his fingers. He keeps a straight face, hoping Chuuya doesn’t notice his heart racing.
When his eyes land on the redhead once again, a mismatched pair of eyes quickly move away from his lips.
“If you like what you see, you should come closer,” he says, voice tentative, trying to joke but failing to hide the quiver of nervousness.
Chuuya freezes. Again, Dazai had meant that as a joke, but the look of pure mortification that takes over the features on his partner’s face has him reconsidering.
Teasingly comforting the redhead, Dazai takes a risk.
“"Chill out. It's nothing to freak out over," He says.
Chuuya fixes him with an unimpressed stare before leaning closer. It’s surprising how quickly the power dynamic changes, and Dazai’s heart starts jumping like a fucking frog on steroids.
Dazai Osamu, a hypocrite.
The worst part is the fact Chuuya knows .
“Really? Because it seems like you’re the one about to freak out.” He says, right before crashing their lips together.