Chapter Text
The blaring white ceiling stared down at Chuuya, the bold color filling up every corner of his eyes and making his head pound. A chill ran through the room but Chuuya didn’t react, not caring as goosebumps jumped across his skin. He felt soulless, to which his mind bitterly reminded him that he, technically, did not have a soul. Not a real one, anyway.
Fuck, Chuuya thought, throwing an arm over his eyes. Dreariness crept up on him like a predator stalking its prey, an unmoving sign of a bad day.
I’m surprised it took this long, the dark helpfully supplied, and Chuuya grit his teeth. He turned on his side roughly and went to inch closer to his husband, but had to hold back a yelp when Dazai’s subdued expression met his. A shiver thumped down on Chuuya’s spine then, and he had a sinking feeling they both wouldn’t be able to leave bed that day.
You can’t even hold both of you up, a voice whispered in his ear and Arahabaki began to stir inside him, feeding off the negative energy.
Ah, shit, Chuuya just managed to realize before Arahabaki thrashed, banging against the sides of his prison. Chuuya winced, rubbing the side of his head in an attempt to soothe the raging god into a more stable state. This however proved to be a mistake, since the effort only seemed to anger the god further. A rumbling from deep inside his chest was the only warning Chuuya got before Arahabaki screamed, scraping Chuuya’s entire being until he felt raw.
He wasn’t aware of when he curled into himself, hands desperately clutching the sides of his head as he tried to shut the god out. Arahabaki had only been this bad once before, after he had activated Corruption for the first time. The god still threw tantrums every once in a while, but Chuuya would normally be able to ignore him until he was able to crash into bed and sleep it off.
Now it felt like his very existence was being torn apart down the middle, tossing and turning him until the edges of his vision darkened and he was positive he would pass out again. Chuuya wasn’t even aware of the person lying next to him anymore, until a cool hand reached out and landed on his cheek.
The sensation of being dosed in cold water ran over his nerves and Arahabaki was whisked away, finally silenced at last. Chuuya let out a shuddering gasp he hadn’t known he had been holding in, opening his eyes to see Dazai looking at him a spark of concern behind an empty void.
“I’m alright,” Chuuya said softly, but they both knew it was a lie. Arahabaki’s episodes were usually called on by a weaker mental state and left him drained and exhausted, unable to get off the couch for hours unless Dazai moved him. He was far from being okay anytime soon.
“Are you alright?” Chuuya asked in an attempt to switch the conversation, and Dazai’s eyelids drooped.
“No,” came the quiet answer, and Chuuya was taken aback by his partner’s honesty. Dazai had gotten better over the years, that he was sure of, but it normally took a few minutes of coaxing to get Dazai to admit he wasn’t feeling well. Even then the mackerel would only say it through crypted words and metaphors, leaving Chuuya to fill in the blanks.
“Are you?” The question shook Chuuya out of his thoughts and he returned his focus to Dazai, who wore an understanding expression that got past the blank mask he wore. Chuuya knew lying to him would be pointless, since Dazai already knew the answer.
“No,” Chuuya said and Dazai didn’t give a response in return, dropping his gaze from his husband. The brunette raised his arm in the air, taking the blanket with him, holding up a silent offer. Chuuya took it and moved closer, pressing his face into Dazai’s chest as the latter dropped the blanket on them once again. Dazai wrapped a tight arm around Chuuya’s waist and pulled him close, taking his typical position with his nose in Chuuya’s hair.
The two stayed like that for a few simple moments, revelling in the warmth the human contact brought that they had lacked for most of their lives. Chuuya felt himself start to drift off again and he embraced it, already done with the world for the day despite the early hour.
His mission to fall back asleep as quickly as possible was interrupted by an itch on his thigh, and he moved his arm underneath the blanket to scratch it. His hand hit something hard in his pocket and Chuuya stilled, confused.
He slipped his hand into his pocket, and his fingers closed around his phone. He pulled it out and moved his head away from Dazai’s chest, electing a grumble of protest from his husband. Chuuya ignored him with years of practice behind him and unlocked his phone, checking the time and scrolling through his messages. Although he didn’t have the motivation to respond to any of them, it was nice to know what was going on.
An idea came to Chuuya and he exited his messages, visually scanning his home screen until he found what he was looking for. He located his music app and opened it, using his thumb to type in the title of the song he wanted. When it popped up he clicked on it, pressing the speaker option.
The slow melody of a familiar song twirled through the room from the speakers Dazai once again insisted on installing in their room, and satisfied, Chuuya slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“Riding down, riding down, my hand on your seat the whole way round,” a woman’s soft voice began to sing, and Chuuya felt Dazai pick his head up in interest. “I carry band-aids on me now, for when your soft hands hit the jagged ground.”
“This song?” Dazai asked and Chuuya didn’t answer, instead opting to snuggle in closer to his partner.
Back during the early days of their relationship when they still didn’t know how to communicate emotions properly, they had played music instead. Songs chosen for their lyrics and tone, while they silently prayed the other would understand. The song Chuuya had played he knew Dazai had only heard once before a long time ago, so his partner didn’t know the lyrics very well.
“Wheels aren’t even touching the ground, scared to take them off but they’re so worn down,” the song continued and Dazai’s warm breath hit the back of Chuuya’s neck as he settled down again, Dazai beginning to stroke his fingers up and down Chuuya’s back.
“Promise I won’t push you straight to the dirt, if you promise me you’ll take them off first.” The music paused and Chuuya mentally prepared himself, knowing he had to do this for both of them.
“Love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do,” Chuuya began, his voice merely a whisper. Dazai’s hand on his back stilled in surprise, and the genius finally seemed to get it.
“I wanna ride my bike with you, fully undressed, no training wheels left for you. . . I'll pull them off for you,” Chuuya sang along, and Dazai’s hand still didn’t move.
“Oh,” Dazai said quietly, the realization coming to him.
“I love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do,” Chuuya continued, angling his head upwards so he could kiss the edge of Dazai’s mouth. Dazai seemed star-struck, an expression he didn’t let himself wear often.
“I wanna ride my bike with you, fully undressed, no training wheels left for you, I'll pull them off for you.” Chuuya let the lyrics flow into him and calm his roaring mind, wrapping around him like a safety blanket. The solace was not random; it was because the lyrics were true. Chuuya loved every single part of Dazai, annoying or not.
“Letting go, letting go, telling you things you already know,” the song went on. “I explode, I explode, asking you where you want us to go.”
Chuuya’s mind flashed back to a few months after their reunion at twenty two, when one of them walked in the light and the other was shackled to the darkness. It had been raining the day Chuuya confessed, he remembered.
He had been angry. Not the typical anger, but the white hot rage that burned his eyes and sunk into his soul. Those three words flew out before he could take them back and Dazai’s face had gone slack with the shock, right before he rushed towards Chuuya and kissed him like the world would end the next day. Ignoring all his instincts that yelled at him that it was wrong, Chuuya had kissed right back.
It had been one of the best days of his life, right next to when Dazai dropped down onto one knee and asked to be his forever.
“You've been riding two wheelers all your life, it's not like I'm asking to be your wife.”
“Well that’s wrong,” Dazai muttered from above Chuuya, who just rolled his eyes.
“Technically you proposed to me, genius,” Chuuya said tiredly, not having enough energy for a fight. Dazai seemed to feel the same because he stayed silent, not choosing to continue their bickering.
"I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say. Is this coming off in a cheesy way?”
“Yes,” Dazai said, and Chuuya halfheartedly kicked him under the blankets. He ignored the small, “ow,” from Dazai, focusing on the next lyrics.
"I love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do,” Chuuya rejoined in, and he felt Dazai hum along as a means of saying he felt the same. “I wanna ride my bike with you, fully undressed, no training wheels left for you, I'll pull them off for you.”
“I love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do. I wanna ride my bike with you, fully undressed, no training wheels left for you, I'll pull them off for you,” Chuuya half-heartedly smiled with sincerity, feeling the lyrics curl around his heart and the memories only he was allowed to see of him and his husband. People often wondered how they had managed to get so far, but Chuuya didn’t even have to think about it. Dazai was his and he was Dazai’s, it had been that way ever since the fateful day they became known as Double Black. Even when they hated each other, they always seemed gravitated towards the other.
An unexpected string of emotion tugged at Chuuya’s chest and he pulled himself ever closer to Dazai, knowing he felt it too. Everything was too much, and Chuuya poured all he could into the end of the song.
“I love everything you do, when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do. I wanna ride my bike with you, fully undressed, no training wheels left for you, I'll pull them off for you,” Chuuya ended in a quivering voice, just barely managing to finish the song. He waited for Dazai to react, to say something, to do anything, but his husband was oddly unresponsive. Chuuya was beginning to wonder if Dazai fell asleep before he felt a drop of water land on his red locks.
Oh, Chuuya thought dumbly to himself as the wetness in his hair grew.
Chuuya had only seen Dazai cry on one other occasion during a particularly nasty fight they had a few weeks after they started dating, and even then he hadn’t meant for Chuuya to see. Chuuya had only been able to stare, the realization that Dazai could feel just like any other human being hitting him hard and making his own eyes well up. The impact that Dazai was crying once more here, in their little space, was astronomical. It spoke volumes about the amount of trust Dazai had in him, and Chuuya felt his own blue eyes fill with mist.
A wave of protectiveness surged through the emotionless barrier around his heart, and Chuuya pressed Dazai impossibly closer and kissed his husband’s chest. His hands fisting the back of his partner’s t-shirt, as if Dazai would get up and leave again.
“I’m sorry,” Chuuya said after he was done latching onto Dazai like a koala. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“It’s okay,” Dazai said from above him, sniffling in an attempt to stop his tears. “I actually. . . really needed that, so thank you. I’m sorry for getting snot in your hair.”
“It’s just hair,” Chuuya was quick to reassure. “It can always be washed.” He pulled away which forced Dazai to do the same, fierce azure clashing with swirling emotion in amber brown orbs as they locked gazes.
“Hair is replaceable, but you’re not,” Chuuya said, and Dazai’s eyes widened in wonder. Before the redhead could say anything more Dazai leaned down to slot their mouths together in a gentle but pulling kiss, pouring all the words and emotions he couldn’t speak aloud into their lips in hopes his partner would understand. Chuuya felt them as he always did and responded in kind, prying Dazai’s hand away to link their fingers together.
After a few blissful seconds had passed Dazai pulled away, his eyes much brighter than they had been. Chuuya found that he himself was also feeling lighter and he almost had the urge to smile, snuggling back into Dazai’s comforting embrace.
“Hey, Chuuya?” Dazai spoke up after a while.
“Yeah?” Chuuya managed to respond, getting the words out lethargically. All the activity had depleted his energy reserves.
Dazai paused before continuing, his hold on the redhead tightening. “Do you just wanna be not-human together today?”
Chuuya let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes when he found he no longer had the energy to keep them open. He was spent for the day, and if he wasn’t going to move regardless he might as well spend his time with the one person he loved most.
“Yeah, that’s okay with me,” Chuuya said, and he felt Dazai nod.
“Okay.” Dazai’s voice was small, and Chuuya’s heart ached at the pitiful sound. He tightened his embrace when he didn’t hear any protest from Dazai, filling his senses with his partner.
Chuuya wasn’t sure how long they laid there before Dazai’s breathing evened out, signaling he fell asleep. Chuuya eventually allowed himself to fall back into sleep as well when Dazai’s warmth weighed down his eyelids, knowing tomorrow would be better. If it wasn’t, that was alright. They’d face that together, too.
That’s what partners are for, after all.