Archive of Our Own

The newly assigned executive is handsome, although nine years older than Dazai and Chuuya, twenty-five to their sixteen — among the impressively young executives in the history of Port Mafia.

Takumi's ability is twofold; to absorb an ability and make it his own with a touch, and nullify it from the other person, hence his rapid ascension in the ranks.

The very first time the executive comes to speak to them, Chuuya freezes up and becomes a stuttering, flushed mess. Takumi has a charming smile, and when he looks at Chuuya as well, his gaze lingers. It flicks subtly up and down over him, before he nods and says his farewell and bows, making his leave.

Dazai laughs at Chuuya as they walk down the corridors together following the meeting. He doesn't think too seriously of it. Yes, so it seems Chuuya has a little puppy crush on Takumi, and maybe Takumi seemed a little interested too, but it clearly won't go anywhere. Right? "What was that, chibi?"

"Ugh," Chuuya grumbles, hiding his face, "Don't say a fucking word, mackerel."

"He wasn't even that good-looking." 

Okay. So maybe Dazai isn't completely unbothered that Chuuya suddenly has eyes for some guy that's not him.

"Yeah," Chuuya says, "He wasn't." He is flushed red across the cheeks, scowling with his eyes on the ground, and sounds as if he is trying very hard to be convincing. Dazai spends the entire walk with the strangest sensation in his chest; a kind of tightness that he could not name.

Over weeks, Dazai is forced to bear witness to Chuuya suddenly showing more attention to another. 

He is forced to bear witness to a budding relationship. And he hates it.

So, of course! He does all that he can to sabotage it, constantly getting in between Chuuya and Takumi whenever they are conversing, and wrapping a possessive arm around Chuuya's neck and draping himself over his back, inserting himself inbetween their walks that Chuuya once used to take with Dazai alone.

This is not good.

That means that Chuuya is hoping for a relationship with Takumi — a hope that is blatantly mutual — and if Chuuya gets into a relationship, that means less attention for Dazai, and less time that he will spend with Dazai, and that's less time Dazai gets to bother and tease him and break into his apartment so they can watch movies together and play games and cook and bake and share a bed at night to sleep when either of them can't, because that bed will be occupied by someone else.

Dazai decides that, even if Chuuya does get into a relationship, he will not let those things stop him.

It has absolutely nothing to do with the strange feeling he gets whenever he is around Takumi. His intuition is acting up and he is never wrong. 

But it is not because he is looking out for Chuuya.

It is all just because he will be very bored without his little slug to keep him company.

Chuuya is all smiles and grins and laughter these days, especially when he is with Takumi, when he stops to have a chat with Takumi and his eyes are sort of bright and almost shy at times as he speaks, running his fingers through his hair, his smile unending, his laughter taking up his whole face when Takumi leans in and says something to him. 

He's not even that funny.

Dazai's funnier than him! But Chuuya never laughs at anything he says! Except for the rare occasion, like that one time he thoughtlessly made a mockery out of Mori and had Chuuya laughing, or like when he prepared a prank that accidentally ended up falling onto Ace (very literally — it was a sack full of flour followed by water), or the rare days when Chuuya's mood was good and when Dazai made faces at him in the mirror while they were at the sink, Chuuya letting out a laugh that took up his face as he brushed his toothpaste-whitened teeth (it was the most adorable sight Dazai had ev—).

Dazai shakes his head vigorously, and feels irritation well up in him again at the way Takumi smiles down at Chuuya. He is taller, four inches taller than Dazai, and broader too. He lifts a finger and brushes Chuuya's hair out of his eyes.

That day as Chuuya leaves with Dazai towards their apartment, Chuuya is walking backward, hands in his pocket, telling Dazai all about the mission he had with Takumi; the things he said that made Chuuya laugh, and the things he learned about Takumi like his favorite food and color. I really don't care, Dazai said, but Chuuya barely seemed to hear him or care that he didn't care to know anything about Takumi.

"I think I'm in love," Chuuya says, with a laugh, pointing at himself, "Can you believe that, mackerel? I'm in love! Me!"

Dazai gives a very dispassionate hum, his face flat and eyes turned away to watch the scenery passing them by. The sun is setting far in the distance. That river looks rather stunning right now, the surface reflecting off the yellow-orange light. It looks great .

What was it about Takumi that Chuuya so liked, anyway?

His ability was cool, but that was about all that Dazai liked about him. Everything else about him was just...whatever. Boring. Mediocre. He was nothing like Chuuya; bright and fiery and fascinating. So what did Chuuya like about him?

That night, Dazai finds himself standing beside Chuuya's bed.

Chuuya is half-asleep, moving the covers out of the way to make way for him and sleepily patting the mattress beside him. "C'mere." Dazai's chest feels tight, aching, as he crawls under the covers and sidles up against Chuuya's sleep-hot body and wraps his arms tightly around him, and he doesn't know what to call this feeling but he knows the thought behind it.

I want to be with Chuuya for as long as I'm alive, he thinks as he feels Chuuya's arms curl around his neck, pulling his face into it before his hands relax around his shoulders, falling back to slumber right away. Dazai doesn't believe he has much of a future, but sometimes he imagines it anyway; the two of them just like this while they are older, sleeping in the same bed, always playing games and watching movies and doing missions; always soukoku, powerful and perfectly in tune with each other. They could be like this forever, maybe, or however long Dazai will last.

Sometimes his mind strays towards thoughts that are hungrier and deeper in nature, but he has to force it not to.

And sometimes he can't help it. Sometimes it strays anyway; his cursed, rapid mind, beyond his control many nights. 

He imagines them older. He imagines waking up in the morning clinging to Chuuya's waist and keeping him down in bed to sleep in for hours more, the way he wants to so often but cannot let himself whenever they wake up like this. He imagines kissing Chuuya whenever he feels like it. He imagines matching rings on their fingers, promising that they belong to each other, and they will belong to each other forever.

Chuuya is mine, is the desperate thought that comes to his mind, staring at his sleeping face; freckles and hair like autumn. He has never seen anyone as beautiful. He is mine.

But he isn't.

He is supposed to be, but he isn't.

***

"Why does the chibi's face look like that?"

Chuuya looks very shell shocked, as he steps inside and closes the door behind him. He falls back, wide-eyed and brows raised.

"He asked me out," Chuuya tells Dazai, quiet. His smile is slow-growing on his face.

Dazai's eyes widen. "Takumi?"

Chuuya nods. His gaze is still hazy. He laughs, suddenly, still incredulous. "I got a date tomorrow, shitty Dazai."

"Oh."

Chuuya doesn't notice how blank and flat he has become. He just heads for the shower, humming a song to himself.

Dazai climbs into Chuuya's bed again that night, hands folded on his stomach as he waits for Chuuya to return from his shower. Chuuya comes back while toweling his hair, draped around the nape of his neck. He wears a black shirt and gray pajamas. He looks so endearing and adorable that Dazai doesn't know what to do with himself.

Chuuya never really questions it, when Dazai climbs into his bed like this. He doesn't ask questions at all. He just assumes it's a bad day and holds him as they sleep, and maybe it doesn't fix all of Dazai's problems but it is the most comforting thing he has ever felt.

And it makes him want to live just a little; a small joy that temporarily makes him think, if I were dead, I wouldn't feel this nice and warm. If I were dead, there would be no tiny beautiful angry little hatrack to hold me.

In death, he would feel nothing. Most days that is a comforting thought. But some days— days when he gets to experience Chuuya — it seems like a loss as well.

Chuuya climbs into bed and Dazai immediately wraps his arms around him. He grabs Chuuya's hand and pushes it into his own hair, a non-verbal cue. Chuuya obliges these things without a complaint. He runs a hand through Dazai's hair, scratches his nails lightly against his scalp.

"You remind me of a cat sometimes," Chuuya says, exasperated and almost, almost fond, "you know that?"

"Mhm." Dazai is so pleased and warm and liquid, and the shivers running up his back feel so good. He can feel Chuuya's lithe waist against the innerside of his arms.

He loathes the intrusive thought that Takumi would get to hold him like this too now. Ugh. 

"Chuuya?" Dazai's voice comes out sounding younger and more vulnerable than he wanted.

Chuuya's eyes, that were closed, blink open at that voice, fingers stilling through his hair so there is some left between the spaces, and he looks down into Dazai's face, "Yeah?" His voice is strangely soft in response to his tone, like that of a tentative child. Dazai wishes he could take back the way he sounded, but he also feels a whole host of something painful and achingly tender, a whole host of feelings that were unfamiliar to him until Chuuya.

You're not going to leave me, are you?

Can we stay like this?

Can we be partners that live together and sleep in the same bed for the rest of our lives?

"Isn't Takumi kind of old?"

Chuuya blinks, taken aback, as if that wasn't what he expected following such a tone. His fingers are still moving though, through Dazai's hair, stroking his hairline feather-light.

"Twenty-five's not that old."

"Shouldn't Chuuya be dating someone his age? I think Ane-san would mind."

"Ane-san doesn't have to know." Chuuya fiddles with Dazai's hair. "I'm guessin' she won't really get it. But I just… I feel good around him. You know? He makes me laugh. The conversations are great. We hit it off so well and… and he's handsome. And he likes me too." His blue eyes are afar, mellowed. Dazai grabs his face and forces him to focus on his own face. Chuuya scowls at the crack in his neck. "Ugh. What? Tryin' to break my neck or something?"

"Chuuya should not date him. He seems fishy to me and I am never wrong. I even told Odasaku and Odasaku said he should not be dating a sixteen year old." 

"What the hell should I care what he thinks?" Chuuya wrenches his head out of Dazai's hands, pushing his arms away. "Or even what you think? Twenty-five isn't too old, and I'm pretty damn mature for my age."

"Chuuya's brain is still as tiny as him."

"Dazai!" Chuuya screeches.

"Chuuya should not date him." Dazai glares up at him stubbornly.

"I don't get it. What the hell's your problem?"

"Chuuya is my dog! He should not go to another person!"

Chuuya's face crumples in rage and he bongs Dazai hard on the head. "I'm not a fucking dog!"

Dazai winces and yelps, rubbing his head. "Chuuya hit me too hard."

Somehow the conversation ends up going back to Chuuya speaking with his eyes far and fond about Takumi. Dazai drops his chin to Chuuya's chest and just watches him yap on and on about him, his smile and bright eyes. He looks beautiful like this; he almost looks as beautiful as he does when Dazai makes him angry, flushed pink and neat brows furrowed tightly, eyes ablaze.

Dazai only does not like what is causing this happiness.

But Chuuya's fingers are in his hair again, stroking gently, soothing the sore spot he just whacked him on and it feels very nice. So Dazai doesn't say anything this time and just lets him talk.

He just can't help the foreboding sense of doom.

***

The first thing Dazai does is go to Mori. He doesn't outright tell him, Chuuya and Takumi are dating, because it is possible word would then reach that Dazai told him. Instead, he disguises it as casual gossip, leading Mori's mind towards suspicion.

"You're right, Mori-san," Dazai says, feigning thoughtfulness, "They did seem to be standing rather close, weren't they?"

"Indeed. I did notice but I didn't pay it much mind until this conversation."

Dazai feigns an expression of concern, sat back against the leather chair across from Mori. "Well, that's quite alarming. Two of our executives in a relationship? Think of all the things that could go wrong if they ever break up. There would be too much conflict, resentment and trouble whenever they are in a meeting and have to decide upon something. They would absolutely try to contradict each other then, thereby convoluting our decision-making process. Especially considering that slug's temper! This is all so very unprofessional. I think it is a necessity then that this should not — "

"Well," Mori cuts Dazai's tirade off, steepling his hands under his chin, "I have faith in Takumi-kun and Chuuya-kun's ability to keep their personal feelings out of work."

Dazai shoots up straight.

"Mori-san," Dazai is trying to hide the faint tremor of panic in his voice. Why is Mori okay with this?! "Don't tell me you will allow this to continue. There is too much at stake here!"

"I would expect the two of them to keep such feelings away from work. Beyond that, I don't see how it is my business how they spend their time in their personal life."

"But Mori-san!" 

"Dazai-kun," Mori says. His purple eyes glint. He is smiling, eyes half-lidded, "I think we both know what this is truly about."

When the door to the office closes behind Dazai, Dazai stands there with his hair shadowing his hollow eyes, his head low, hand to the doorknob.

Abruptly, he turns with a furious scowl and sticks his tongue out in Mori's general direction.

"Bleh! Stupid Mori!"

Pointless. It was all pointless. And of course Mori wouldn't see a problem in Chuuya dating an old man like Takumi!

The second thing he does is construct a plan to have Kouyou find about Chuuya and Takumi in such a way that he doesn't incriminate himself.

"Chuuya Nakahara!" Kouyou yells, as soon as the door of her office shuts. From outside where Dazai has his entire cheek and ear gleefully stuck to the door, he can hear the whirl of her kimono as she whips around to face Chuuya, "What is the meaning of this, lad!?"

"A-Ane-san, I…" Yes. Dazai is pleased to hear this fear in Chuuya's voice. Surely then Chuuya will be so scared of Kouyou that he will leave Takumi.

"Takumi is nine years older than you! You are still but a child next to him right now!"

"He's twenty-five!"Abruptly, the words cut off. Dazai can imagine the recoil from Kouyou, before her maternal, wrathful glare silenced Chuuya's raised voice.

"My lad," Kouyou says, in a lower tone, "Is that what Takumi told you?"

"What?"

"Has he been telling you that such an age difference doesn't matter? Because I am as old as him and you look nothing more to me than a child."

"I'm not a kid, for fuck's sake! Stop calling me that!"

" You are sixteen!" That is the loudest Dazai has ever heard her scream, so much so that even he flinches back.

"I'm in the mafia," Chuuya says, with a bark of wry laughter and a voice that nearly cracks, "That means nothing here, Ane-san. Nothing at all. I haven't been a kid since I became the government's human experiment." There is silence. Even Ane-san is struck speechless. "I haven't been a kid since I was seven, when my memories began."

"My boy." There is a note of sadness in her voice. "There are still many things you are a child in. Love is certainly one of them."

"I know what I'm doing. I know."

"No you don't. You are blinded by what you feel for him, and the things he tells you to manipulate you."

"Manipulate me?" Chuuya laughs, as if he is surprised. "He's not Dazai, Ane-san."

Dazai flinches violently.

Suddenly he doesn't want to hear any more of this.

"Takumi is kind and he treats me well. He cares about me…"

Dazai steps away. He doesn't want to hear any of this anymore.

***

"It feels very human," Chuuya says, half-asleep. "Being in love."

Surely he has noticed how much more often Dazai has been coming to his bed these days, but he never really complains about it. Once, when Dazai did muster the courage to ask, he said, I don't mind you comin' to me. I prefer you comin' to me over finding you covered in your own blood. Dazai thought being held by Chuuya all throughout the night was a nice exchange over cutting his arms open or vomiting up a whole bottle of pills, his body on fire, so he took full advantage of this statement. Chuuya talks and talks until he falls asleep, so he can keep Dazai's mind at bay, somewhat. He doesn't know just how soothing it is for Dazai to just listen to his voice. 

Dazai finds something hopeful in what Chuuya said, about being in love feeling human (it does feel human. It feels very human, being with Chuuya). He thinks it must mean Chuuya is only in love with the idea of love and being human, and perhaps not Takumi himself.

"Odasaku said being in love is very different from infatuation."

Chuuya's hands still in Dazai's hair. He sighs, rolling his eyes, "Sometimes it's like he's your dad or somethin', with how much you always quote him." Everything Dazai understands about human things and emotions is from Odasaku, and Chuuya, so he does quote one to the other plenty. Chuuya moves his hands away, rolling over to his back. "And you can't tell me how I feel, shitty Dazai."

Dazai frowns, annoyed. He grabs Chuuya's hand and pushes it back to his own hair. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because my hands are tired, dumbass." But still, he sinks his fingers into his hair, and begins brushing through them again until he falls asleep.

***

The first sign is Chuuya's distance from Kouyou. 

He begins to act very coldly towards her, only replying formally to whatever is asked of him. Kouyou is clearly frustrated, and somewhat resigned, towards his attitude. The next time he meets her in her office, Dazai asks her, "What's going on between you and Chuuya?"

"That's not your business, Dazai-kun."

"Chuuya is my dog! So he is my business, Ane-san~"

"Leave."

Dazai understands messing around will not help him, so he gets serious. "He is angry with you. I've never seen him angry like this with you or anyone else before, except me. Why?"

Perhaps it is his seriousness. Perhaps Kouyou is simply frustrated and upset and needs to vent, even if it's to Dazai. But she stares at him for several seconds, before her chest heaves on an exhale.

"He is angry with me for trying to intervene." Kouyou's voice is low. She turns her head away. She looks sad, rueful. "It's my fault for not being tactful, I suppose. It only pushed him away from me."

"What happened?" Dazai asks, gently. It is a voice that can get anything out of people in certain circumstances; children, women, men. Chuuya, in many cases, as well.

"I confronted Takumi and tried to get him to stop dating Chuuya. It wasn't violent or disrespectful in any way. I simply framed the reason as based on work etiquette. I don't know what he told Chuuya after that, but Chuuya came to me the day after, furious, and told me never to intervene again or say such things to Takumi behind his back or get in the way of their relationship. Some things he said made me think it was because it made Takumi angry and upset with him." Kouyou is silent for a moment. Then, "It felt as if he saw me as a villain trying to ruin his relationship. The Chuuya I know is not prone to thinking in such ways."

As someone who has mastered the art of manipulation, Dazai understands. He saw it coming from a mile away, really, as soon as Kouyou began to speak of the aftermath of her confrontation.

"Leave it to me, Ane-san." Dazai smiles. "I will deal with Takumi."

"Don't kill him," Kouyou drawls, flat, "Mori won't be pleased to lose an executive. Especially one of Takumi's powers." Dazai doesn't really care, but Kouyou already sees it, " And if you want to lose Chuuya forever by killing someone he is in a relationship with, go right ahead."

Dazai's mouth clamps shut.

He deflates, a scowl on his face.

 "Fine." Then, quickly, "Not that I care. But I will be bored if Chuuya stops talking to me."

"Yes, yes. Now leave."

***

From inside Chuuya's bedroom, there is Chuuya's laughter, followed by Takumi's.

Dazai barges right through the door. No way will they ever be allowed in a room alone together while Dazai is present in the house.

"Chuuuuuyaaaaa~ I'm hungry!!"

Chuuya is sitting on the desk with his forearm across Takumi's back, and Takumi's head retreats from his neck to look at Dazai. He is stood between Chuuya's legs. They are still, fortunately, fully clothed, but clearly heading their way towards not being so. Chuuya's cheeks are flushed pink and there are hickeys down his neck and the top buttons of his shirt are open, the rest of the layers on the floor.

"Dazai!" Chuuya screeches, backing away from Takumi a little, and going redder with embarrassment, "Get out!"

"But I'm hungry." Dazai stands in the middle of the room with his arms hung at his sides, unbandaged eye staring at Chuuya imploringly.

"Then make yourself something! You're not a fucking kid!"

"But I don't know how to cook. And Chuuya makes the best crab dishes ever." Dazai rubs his belly in circles, his eyes closed in his trademark cutesy smile.

Dazai runs up to Chuuya and, as if Takumi isn't there at all, grabs Chuuya's wrist and drags him out.

"Takumi! I'm sorry. He's — " Chuuya gestures at Dazai, "He's kind of an idiot."

"It's alright, Chuuya." Takumi smiles. Dazai can see right through it; how fake he is. "Perhaps another time?"

Chuuya whirls on Dazai after Takumi leaves. "What the hell is wrong with you, you waste of bandages!? You ruined everything!"

"Chuuya is too young to be sleeping with an old man!"

"HE'S NOT OLD! Dazai, just — leave me the fuck alone, okay?"

Dazai stares at him.

Sometimes, Odasaku said, people get into bad relationships because they are in pain. And the person promises them something they believe they don't have or will ever have.

Chuuya-san has lost a lot in these two years, Ango added, with the kind of empathy only Ango possesses.  I can imagine he is in a fragile state of mind these days.

The Sheep. The Flags. The friends he lost at Dragonhead Conflict. Chuuya keeps losing and losing and losing, keeps losing everyone he holds dear. And this may not be much in comparison, because Dazai is not much to Chuuya in comparison, but...

"I'll stay for Chuuya," Dazai tells him, softly.

"What?"

"I said, I'll stay for Chuuya. We can be partners that live together and play games and watch movies, and sleep in the same bed for the rest of our lives."

Chuuya stares at him. "Where the hell did that even come from?"

Dazai takes some time to gather his words. "Takumi promised you he would stay, didn't he? That's why you are so adamant about this relationship. About making it work. You've lost too much too fast to be able to bear watching another person leave you. But Takumi is just saying that because he knows it's what you want the most."

Chuuya closes his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Dazai… I can't fucking do this right now."

"Am I wrong?"

"Yeah. You're wrong. I finally found someone that wants to stay with me! And I don't know why everyone is trying so fucking hard to take that away from me!" 

There it is. There it is; the pain, red and heavy. The grief that still lives in Chuuya's wild and desperate eyes, come to the forefront now.

"You? You're gonna fucking stay with me? You barely give two shits about me on a good day! And I live in terror every fucking day that this is the day I find you dead !" He sounds as wild and desperate as the look in his red-rimmed eyes, his voice edged raw. His chest is heaving slightly. Dazai can do nothing but look at him, wide-eyed, because Chuuya has never expressed that. Dazai has never even considered the thought that Chuuya might actually be terrified of losing him too. 

Dazai knows he is bad at showing any emotion. But he thought Chuuya knew that he must… that he must feel something for him, that Chuuya has some kind of hold on him, even if Chuuya doesn't assume it to be romantic.

Chuuya walks past him.

"Make your own fucking dinner," he mumbles, "I'm tired."

***

It's months later that Takumi and Chuuya's relationship becomes public in the mafia.

Over these months, Dazai watches the changes in Chuuya; how slowly isolated and reserved he becomes around people. Where once, Chuuya barely reacted to the way Dazai was always all over him with his arms around his neck and draped over his back whenever he is too tired with his chin to Chuuya's hat, now Chuuya is pushing him away and shrugging him off, looking very anxious as he darts glances at Takumi.

"Don't be so damn clingy all the time, all right? Gives the wrong idea to people."

And it does. It did. When the relationship is found out in the mafia, the rumors reach back.

Takumi-san and Chuuya-san? I always thought Dazai-san and Chuuya-san were secretly together.

That same day, Dazai inadvertently comes upon the scene, unseen by the turn of the wall; Chuuya, chasing after Takumi to grab at his shoulder, turning him around as he speaks in a quivering voice, "Takumi, it's not like that— I don't know where the hell those rumors — "

When Takumi whirls around, it's with a backhand hard across Chuuya's face.

A noise leaves Dazai from where he is, wide-eyed. His body is tense.

The anger slowly sets in, but it is not hot. It is one of the coldest things he has ever felt, as if everything inside his chest just became stone. But he knows he does not need to fight Chuuya's battles for him, nor would Chuuya want him to. He is the top martial artist of the mafia, after all, even if his powers are useless against Takumi.

Dazai waits for Chuuya to hurt him back, for him to move from the position he is frozen in; hand to his cheek, head bowed, eyes hidden by his hair.

He does not.

Why isn't he fighting back?

The answer that comes is simple and frustrating.

Chuuya loves him.

And so he will not hurt him for anything.

"—I don't know what the fuck you've been doing with him to make people think that —

"Nothing! It wasn't anything! Why don't you fucking trust me, Takumi!?"

Takumi goes silent.

"Cut him off," he says.

"What? He's my partner! I can't just cut him off that easily, I'll have missions with him—!"

"Cut him off, outside the missions. You don't talk to him or see him ever beyond that."

"You can't just keep making demands on me to stop seeing every fucking person that you don't like!"

"You seem pretty damn desperate to keep him in your life. I have to wonder why?"

"Because he's my fucking partner, damn it! I can't stop talking to him!"

Takumi stares at him, hollow-eyed.

"Okay then. You want to be selfish and not take my feelings into account about this at all, about how the entire fucking organization was sure that you were in love with him? Fine. It's over then. And when they all leave you like everyone else did, when you realize they care little about you and most just see you as something to use, including that partner of yours, remember I was the only one that would have stayed."

Takumi turns and leaves. Chuuya stands where he is, for a moment, two. He looks lost. His eyes have gone afar, stuck to the ground, brows furrowed.

"Takumi! Takumi, wait!"

After that, he stops hanging out with Dazai as much, and then stops hanging out with him at all. 

There are no more arcade games and movies and sleeping together in the same bed and Chuuya making him dinner and brushing his teeth next to Dazai at the sink, and Chuuya is almost always at Takumi's place until many of his things are missing from his room, like his toothbrush and pajamas and shampoo and clothes, until he is all but living there with Takumi.

After weeks of nothing from Chuuya, Dazai breaks into Takumi's house once just to see Chuuya, to make sure he is okay.

"Dazai," Chuuya whispers furiously, when he was out in the kitchen with a glass of water, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I haven't heard from Chuuya in weeks," Dazai says.

Chuuya waits. His brow raises, snarling, "And?"

Chuuya's low self-esteem slips through like this sometimes, and it's shocking; how little he expects anyone to care about him. He remembers standing next to him as he was told how Adam found him worth sacrificing himself for, and how dumbfounded he was by that revelation.

He remembers Chuuya's fingers on a picture of his childhood, sounding baffled and as if he could barely believe that the Flags had gotten that picture for him .

Takumi is making good use of that, it seems.

"And I was worried about you," Dazai says, openly, honestly, without the slightest hint of a joke.

Chuuya blinks, clearly taken aback.

"Chuuya?" Takumi is in the doorway when Dazai looks over. His brows furrow slowly, looking between Chuuya and Dazai.

And then the anger slowly clears his drowsy eyes, growing ablaze with the dawning of some realization. Takumi grits his teeth.

"No," Chuuya manages to get out, strained, and Dazai looks over simply because he is bewildered by the voice that came out of him; bewildered, then, by the terror on his face.

Nakahara Chuuya, afraid of someone, is not a sight Dazai ever wanted to see.

"No," Chuuya says, and instantly he is in front of Takumi, grabbing at his collar. He is so small, so short, so young; in front of him. "It's not like that, I swear, Takumi, I — "

Takumi violently throws Chuuya's hands off him and shoves him away, turning away into the door. Chuuya staggers back, gains his footing, and quickly follows after him, grappling for him with frantic hands. Dazai is forgotten, unnoticed.

Dazai wants to kill someone; seeing Chuuya become this.

He wants to kill Takumi.

"Takumi, please," Chuuya's voice is muffled in the other room. The door slams shut so hard the walls rattle all around Dazai. There is yelling; so much yelling that goes on for the longest time. Chuuya's voice is desperate as he screams back, in such a way that Dazai thinks it should be the last time Chuuya ever sounds like that. He hears smashing and shattering from inside the room.

Dazai bangs the door open, upon that. The room is a mess; glass shards and broken furniture everywhere.

"That's enough, Takumi," he says coldly. Takumi turns to look at him, hollow-eyed. "There was nothing going on that you were thinking of. I broke in to see Chuuya because I haven't heard from him in weeks, and generally that is something friends worry about."

"I'm leaving," Takumi says to Chuuya, ignoring Dazai, "I can't stand your fucking face right now."

Dazai holds himself together, as Takumi walks past him.

Chuuya looks like he is about to cry. He falls on the bed with a gasp, burying his face in his hands. He is in his night pajamas. He looks so tired and miserable and stressed; he has been looking like that for months.

"Chuuya…" Dazai moves over, touching Chuuya's shoulder. But Chuuya slaps his hand away.

"Get out," he croaks. His eyes are red-rimmed and wet. 

"Chuuya… listen to me—"

"Dazai…" His voice is raspy and strained, gritting the words out. He sounds like he will break down any second. "I need you to get out."

"Chuuya, he's making you miserable. I don't know how you can't see that. He hits you, he yells at you, he distrusts you and makes you sad all the time, and he lies to you about the people that care ab — "

"Just go, for fuck's sake," Chuuya gasps out; a sob, through grinded teeth, muffled into his hands. His hands are tight to his eyes, moving up over his hair to grip his head with both heads.

Dazai knows when to stop; when things are getting worse than better.

So he nods, stepping back. He turns and leaves.

***

The only way Dazai can get Chuuya back in any capacity at all, at this point, is by letting him be.

"I promise I won't do anything that makes Takumi doubt you," Dazai says, his phone pressed tight to his ear, "I'll keep myself to myself and I won't try to change your mind about him."

The silence is long on the other end.

"Can we hang out, then?" Dazai says, trying not to sound as desperate and hopeful as he feels,  "we could play the newest game at the arcade together. Just an hour, that's all, if you got to get back to him."

The silence is still there.

Then, a sigh.

"Just an hour," Chuuya says, tentatively, "Takumi's out right now. I have to get back before he returns."

If the price for killing Takumi wasn't Chuuya, Takumi would be dead at Dazai's feet right now.

Dazai meets him at the arcade. And the nervous boy, with his arms loosely around himself and looking away, is not Chuuya. He is not Chuuya at all.

"He hits you." Dazai is looking adamantly at the game screen, moving the joystick around under his palm, hitting a button. "Doesn't that bother you?"

Chuuya doesn't look at him either. "I can take a few punches if he gets pissed at me, mackerel. It's nothing I haven't taken on a battlefield."

It's true that Chuuya is perfectly capable of taking a few hits, that in the mafia it means nothing. But it doesn't sit right. It doesn't sit right because it's someone Chuuya believed would treat him right, like when he told Ane-san, Takumi is kind and treats me well. He cares about me. It doesn't sit right because Chuuya would let the people he cares about do anything to him and take the blame for it himself; like he did with the Sheep. It doesn't sit right because it's clear it hurts Chuuya anyway, because it's not about the pain at all, or how much of it can take. It's about how it's from someone who was supposed to love him.

"It seems like he gets pissed at you all the time about stupid things."

"Dazai. I don't want to talk about it. You promised you wouldn't say anything about him."

They play in silence after, mostly, besides a few comments here and there about the game. There is so little of the life and fire in Chuuya that Dazai knows, and Chuuya is so unfocused that it's barely a challenge. But he stays. He just stays. He came just because he wanted to see Chuuya, that's all.

***

And then one night, it all comes to a head.

Chuuya shows up in the rain, eyes red-rimmed, his clothes torn up and hand bruises around his arms and wrists. There is blood on his fingers.

"Chuuya?" Dazai asks, frowning. He grabs Chuuya's arm gently, and is glad Chuuya trusts him and that he can feel Dazai there enough to not flinch away, as he has seen most people in such a state do. "What happened?"

Dazai means to pull him into the apartment but what ends up happening is that Chuuya falls against him instead, a sob muffled into his chest. Dazai's arms, left hovering around him, finally grasp his smaller body to himself, first firm, then tight.

What Dazai finds out, from merely observing and then from what Chuuya tells him, seals Takumi's fate.

Takumi essentially tried to force himself on Chuuya. Although Chuuya does not say it in such words, that is what it was.

"I was just… I was so fucking tired, that's all, I…" Chuuya's voice is grinded out, the heels of his hands tight to his eyes. "I didn't feel like it. I tried to tell him that but he wouldn't listen or stop. He kept saying he had needs and it was selfish of me to keep refusing, and he was getting pissed about that but I… I just couldn't… he tried to keep me down using my own ability and it... it just fucking scared me and as soon as he lost grip of the ability and I got an opening, I shoved him off too hard and he hit his head on the wall. He was conscious but he was bleeding... I didn't even check on him. I just fucking ran..."

Chuuya breathes, hunching over where he sat on the bed with his hands clasped. "Damn." He laughs, shaky. He is shaking all over, though he is clenching his fists together tightly to stop himself. "I don't know how I keep fucking this shit up, you know. How I end up being a complete asshole to people I care about."

Dazai sits there silently. In his mind, he is constructing a plan to have Takumi killed in the most brutal way, without leaving a trace.

"I guess that's the sob story." Chuuya straightens, clearing his throat. "Way more than you cared to know. Look, I…"

Dazai grabs Chuuya's jaw with a hand and wrenches his face towards his own. "Chuuya, do you even realize what happened to you just now?"

Chuuya's eyes widen, before his brows furrow. "What happened to me? I almost broke my boyfriend's head open."

"Because he tried to force himself on you."

Chuuya's face drains of color. It twists slightly, going pink.

"Don't say it like that."

"That's what it is," Dazai says calmly.

Chuuya's brows twitches, a doleful frown. He turns his head away. He is exhausted, and he does not try to maintain his denial. Somewhere, maybe, he already knew it as the truth.

"Do you trust me?" Dazai asks, as he has the very first day, as he keeps asking whenever Chuuya uses Corruption.

"You already know the answer to that."

Chuuya's eyes on him that very first day, asking, what do you have in mind? Chuuya, melting against him wholly in his arms after he has succumbed to the god inside him and given up control of himself, knowing Dazai will save him, always. More than anything. 

That night, it's in Dazai's bed that they lie together, with Dazai's arm around his waist and nose pressed to the nape of his neck. His bandaged hand rests against Chuuya's belly and he can feel his breathing pattern. He can feel him crying, silently. Dazai presses his mouth to the top of his spine and strokes his thumb over his belly. He wants to kiss him there; somewhere. He doesn't.

***

In the middle of the night, Dazai wakes up to Chuuya's fingers soft on his cheek. They are feather-light, and when Chuuya sees his eyes open, they still and stutter in hesitance. But Dazai doesn't mind. Doesn't Chuuya know he doesn't mind? That he would take any crumbs Chuuya would give him?

"I'm sorry," Chuuya whispers to him, in the dark of the night, moonlit face close to his on the pillow. His eyes are red-rimmed and vacant.

Dazai is half-asleep and doesn't really care for the apology. He thinks of Odasaku saying, sometimes people stay in bad relationships because they are in pain, and the person promises them something they believe they don't have or will never have. He thinks of the Sheep and the Flags and the friends at Dragonhead, all that Chuuya has lost, and the way his eyes were so full with red and heavy grief when he said, I finally found someone that wants to stay with me and I don't know why everyone is trying so fucking hard to take that away from me!

Ango saying, Chuuya-san has lost a lot in these last two years. He must be in quite a fragile mind.

Dazai just blearily scoots close and presses his nose and forehead to his, the inside of his elbow under Chuuya's underarm so he can grip him tightly. He is just very glad to be able to feel Chuuya's warmth again; that he gets to hold him, and that they will play video games and watch movies together again, and that Chuuya will brush his teeth beside him at the sink the next morning. Dazai can do the cooking tomorrow, even if it won't be very good, because Chuuya is too sad right now but maybe he'll get all red-faced and pretty with either anger or laughter instead if he wakes up to what Dazai made for him.

***

That is the end of Chuuya and Takumi's relationship, to the relief of all that care about Chuuya. They do not care for his apologies. They just care for him.

Not long after, an important mission Takumi is leading is mysteriously sabotaged, resulting in Takumi being comatose in a hospital with severe injuries.

Not that Dazai knows anything about that.

Truth be told, what Takumi deserved was to die. But the only reason it's fine he didn't is because Chuuya's loss was still fresh and maybe there was still a part of him that may have grieved his death in some capacity. That's all.

Dazai, by now, is well-aware that wants Chuuya.

But Odasaku says people who come out of bad relationships usually aren't ready to go into another. So Dazai keeps his feelings and confessions close and closed tight. He doesn't even care, maybe, about the name given to his and Chuuya's relationship. He just cares that he has Chuuya at all, that he gets to live with him and brush his teeth with him and eat at the table with him and play games and watch movies and go out and do missions and hold him at night and sleep to his voice. 

Week after week, they return to normal. Week after week, Chuuya returns to himself until he becomes the bright, fiery, beautiful and loud boy that threw Dazai into a wall and kept him down with a foot to the chest. 

Months go by, until it has been a year, and Dazai thinks nothing of any of it. He thinks nothing of Chuuya waking up in the mornings with a dopey little smile, half-asleep. He thinks nothing of the way Chuuya randomly grabs his hand to pull him towards something. He thinks nothing of Chuuya making his favorite meals some nights, and sharing wine with him, and drawing him into dances, and pressing their foreheads together, and laughing at some of his jokes (and punching him in the chest and screaming at him for the rest). He likes it, but he knows not to expect romance out of it.

He knows it doesn't matter to him.

They can just be partners that live together and sleep in the same bed for the rest of their lives.

A year has gone by. Chuuya wakes up one morning, Dazai's arms hooked around him with his chin to Chuuya's chest and Chuuya's smaller leg against his hip. 

Chuuya gives him that same sleepy little smile and kisses him on the nose, before pressing his forehead and nose to his forehead and nose. And okay, so this is new, and Dazai is feeling a strange, heady emotion that makes him feel bizarrely as if he is floating.

Then Chuuya tilts his head and kisses him on the lips, still only half awake.

And just like that, with a pat to the shirt of Dazai's chest, he gets up saying, "What'd ya want for breakfast?" As if nothing happened. As if kissing Dazai was just something he did every day. As if this has always been what they were.

Dazai doesn't point it out. He just goes along with it.

"Can Chuuya make me crab omelettes?"

"Sure."

"Oh! And a crab sandwich for lunch?"

"Yeah, yeah. Get off your ass already and freshen up."

If Chuuya kisses him in the morning as if it was nothing new, then surely when he sees his tiny chibi in his little apron over his black shirt and auburn bun looking absolutely adorable, Dazai reserves the right as well to sneak up on him, to take him by the waist and kiss his shoulder, before putting his chin to it, watching Chuuya cook while swaying with him and humming annoyingly in his ear until Chuuya gets pissed off and shoves him away. But he lets him return not two minutes later to quietly watch him cook, because it is a mesmerizing experience to see the things he does with fluidity.

I've never

Chuuya turns in the circle of his arms, wrapping his arms around his neck. Dazai leans down to meet him half-way as Chuuya pulls him down and kisses him, sweet and long and slow.

I've never loved until you.