Work Text:
"We really should clean up in here.”
Dazai looked up from where he was doing a puzzle on the floor, frowning and gesturing around the cluttered, slightly dusty media/hobby room he was sitting in. “Whats there to clean up? It’s a bit dusty, but it’s not like there’s garbage anywhere.”
Chuuya raised a brow and pointed at a broken puzzle box in the corner, filled with mostly empty tubes of paint and primer for canvases, stained with countless colors and holding a broken piece of charcoal. “Whats that?”
Dazai huffed and pulled the box closer, along with all of the tubes. “That’s my palette, Chibi! I’m still using it!”
The redhead rolled his eyes, moving in deeper to hold up a plastic bag of yarn bits and thread, frayed and chopped up pieces of felt or other fabric. “And this?”
“I use it as stuffing for the little animals I crochet! Leave my corner alone, Chibi!”
Chuuya growled, watching Dazai grab the bag and shove it into the same pile as the paint tubes. “Dazai, there’s too much shit in here! If we’re gonna do spring cleaning, we have to get rid of some stuff!”
He rubbed his face, looking more around the room. Almost the last room, other than one at the end of the hall with plenty of windows where Dazai liked to paint and sketch sometimes. Chuuya had to be invited into that room, and the last time he’d been in there had been almost 3 months ago when Dazai had wanted to show him a bird on the floor below theirs’ balcony.
He’d only gone in once uninvited, and Dazai had been so frantic to get him to leave he’d thrown his dirty paint water at him.
Dazai was looking around the room, slowly growing more shaky as he spotted things he wanted to keep, others that would burn to throw away, and very very few things he would be willing to part with. So long with so little had left him a bit uncertain on what was bad or “unnecessary” as Chuuya liked to say.
Swallowing, he looked around, before pushing a bunch of cardboard yarn-packing at Chuuya. “These?”
Chuuya nodded, placing them in the garbage bag he’d brought into the room. He’d sort out the recycling later. “Okay; what else?”
Dazai chewed his lip and played with the piercing there, before searching again— standing and wandering around, grabbing a plastic bag full of bags in the corner and holding it out, his other hand tucked under his elbow. “….this?”
Chuuya nodded, going through the bags and seeing Dazai go back to looking around, watching him shake with a slowly growing frown. “Sure; some of these have holes in them anyway. You okay?”
Dazai shrugged, sitting on the floor in a tiny gap between their futon-couch and their giant bookshelf. “I dunno…”
Grunting, Chuuya sat down next to Dazai and reached out to grab a shaky hand. “Whats wrong, Osamu? That was all just garbage, yeah? I’m not gonna toss anything important.”
The brunet keened and buried his head between his knees. “It’s all important!”
The mafioso sighed, rubbing a hand over Dazai’s hair. Dazai flinched at the noise and sudden touch and watched Chuuya stand— curling tighter into his corner and tucking his head deeper between his knees with a slowly growing “sorry” that didn’t want to escape his throat, making him choke and gasp around his anxiety. “S—“
Chuuya hurried to come back, holding a water bottle from the mini fridge in the corner and crouching, grabbing Dazai’s hand and cupping his cheek.
His husband leaned heavily into the warm glove-less palm, hiccuping and hiding his bad eye in Chuuya’s scarred hand with a whine.
Exhaling slowly, Chuuya traced his thumb over Dazai’s eyebrow and shushed him softly, shifting until he could haul Dazai into his lap and press a kiss to Dazai’s bandaged collarbone. “Shh, shh. What’s wrong Mackerel, hmm?”
Dazai curled around Chuuya’s head, face hidden in Chuuya’s hair and continuing to shake. “Why is Chuuya cleaning?”
The older of the two frowned, pressing another kiss to Dazai’s collarbone and pulling back. “What do you mean, Mackerel?”
Dazai hiccuped and shifted backwards, off of Chuuya’s lap so he could haul the Chibi into his own instead. He hid in Chuuya’s neck as the mafioso chuckled, tracing fingers at Dazai’s nape where hair bled into tan, scarred skin.
“You have to tell me so I can understand, amour.” Chuuya whispered.
Dazai sniffled, then looked up at Chuuya from under his bangs. “Every-time Chuuya deep cleans the house he kicks me out after…I don’t wanna leave the house today and I don’t wanna fight with Chibi but I can’t, I can’t go outside today, I—“ he gasped, head falling back a bit to take in more air, leaning into a large palm that cupped the back of his head.
“Whoa, whoa—“ Chuuya began, cradling Dazai’s crown and petting his husbands hair. “Of course I’m not kicking you out, Mackerel, I wouldn’t do you like that.”
Dazai hiccuped, rubbing his eyes on his sweater, feeling Chuuya lean back a bit, to rest his back against Dazai’s thighs and look each other in the eyes. “B-But Chibi will want to mop and vacuum and Chibi always hates when I’m on the floors he just waxed and—“
Chuuya shushed him softly, moving both hands to cup Dazai’s face and hold his head up. “No no no, you’re alright. You’re okay, hmm?” He brushed Dazai’s hair back, behind his ear and kissed Dazai’s forehead. “I don’t like you on the floors because you always slip, dumbass. Remember, the first time you came over after I cleaned the floors, we had to go to the emergency room? Your skinny ass slipped right down the stairs.”
Dazai sniffled and nodded, left eye fluttering shut as Chuuya placed a kiss under it. There were advantages and severe disadvantages to an eidetic memory; remembering the exact layout of every ER or doctors office Dazai had ever been inside of was a clear disadvantage. “Yeah…had to get stitches.”
“Exactly,” Chuuya hummed, “so usually when I wanna wax the floors I send you off somewhere for a bit. I never kick you out, you’re always welcome to come back. I just…” he winced, “that first time, seeing your head hit the stairs edge was kinda traumatic. Why do you think the apartment we have now has no stairs?”
Dazai shrugged, sniffling and nuzzling deeper into Chuuya’s palm as his bad eye began to throb. “Thought Chibi got tired of having to carry the laundry around…or me, when he makes my hips give out.”
The redhead snorted and nuzzled their noses together. “Never. My fishy princess.”
Dazai gave a soft hum, letting his bad eye close, and looking deep into Chuuya’s heterochromic irises with a coo. “Really?”
Chuuya grabbed and wiggled Dazai’s nose. “When have I ever lied about loving hauling you around, hmm?”
He eyed Dazai’s right eye, frowning and petting underneath it, rubbing against the bags underneath. Softly pulling down the lower lid, he hissed as a small trickle of blood ran down his thumb. “Mackerel, why didn’t you tell me your eye hurt?”
The brunet hummed, looking up at Chuuya confused. “Huh? But it doesn’t…it’s throbbing but it doesn’t hurt too bad.”
Shifting, Chuuya stood up and hauled Dazai with him— only for the taller to stumble, leaning on the futon couch with a soft whine.
“Chuu…? My heads all fuzzy,” Dazai whined, raising a hand to cup his face. “I…I don’t feel that good…”
Chuuya hissed and whipped out his phone, pulling Dazai out to the living room and sitting him on their couch. “Stay there, okay? I’m gonna call that doctor of yours at the Agency and we’ll head over there.”
Dazai whined weakly but let his head fall back to rest on the couch. “But it’s my day off…”
Chuuya rolled his eyes, sliding on his coat and grabbing one to help shove Dazai into. “Yeah yeah— you’re not gonna do work while were there, I promise. And if they make you, I’ll force it down their throats.”
Dazai let out a dazed giggle and rolled his head to look at Chuuya, hissing as a sudden flare of pain echoed through his eye and face. “Ow….”
Cursing, Chuuya grabbed his keys, shoved his feet into shoes, and grabbed one of their “get the fuck out of the house Now” duffel bags from the hall closet. Clothes, copies of important documents, at least ¥500k cash, and a stockpile of bandages, as well as doses of all of Dazai and Chuuya’s medicines.
“Alright, come on—“
Dazai let out a whimper, head falling onto Chuuya’s shoulder as an arm scooped under his rear and Chuuya racing down the stairs of their apartment building as fast as he could with Dazai in his arms.
Looking back at their Apartment, Dazai sniffled and tucked his face in Chuuya’s neck. “Chuu, I’m dizzy…”
The redhead hummed and started hopping stairwells instead, one hand cupped over Dazai’s head to protect it as they landed on the top floor of the parking garage— Chuuya’s personal floor, where all of the keys were locked inside of a case with a 12-digit passcode and a retina scan. There were only his and Dazai’s in-putted, and a 24-digit passcode for Hirotsu and Kunikida if they ever needed access.
Now, laying Dazai in the passenger seat of the closest car, (a Hyundai they typically used for grocery shopping), he was thankful he’d chosen the top floor for their garage and not the bottom.
“Just hold on a little longer, Mackerel—“ he whispered, kissing his husbands forehead and swapping to the drivers seat. Cranking the ignition, he pushed the button to open the garage door and pressed his foot to the gas, hand on the gear shift and punching it as soon as he was sure the Genesis GV80 could make it through. “Just a bit longer, hmm?”
Dazai whined as the car took off, fingers clutching the seat as things flew past outside. His head was swimming, and the soup from last night, the only thing in his stomach, was starting to feel like it was boiling over. “Chibi…Chibi, I don’t feel good…”
“I know, fish, give me a bit longer, then you can hurl on the concrete all you want.”
“Chuuya is driving like a maniac—“
“Shush! Close your eyes, fish— here,” Chuuya practically punched the air-con until it was blasting on Dazai’s face and neck, “deep breaths.”
Swerving around a lorry, Chuuya cursed as Dazai whimpered and reached for the water bottle in the middle of the console and missed by a good 6 inches. “Fuck, Mackerel— did you hit your head yesterday?”
Dazai’s lip wobbled and he shook his head. “Nn…nuh…I just—“ he took a wheezy breath and grabbed the water again, sipping and spilling a decent amount down his front. “Hic just took a new medicine— the...the new one for my depression I think.”
He hiccuped and clenched his eyes shut as Chuuya drifted around a corner, hissing as Chuuya jerked to a stop.
Peeling his good eye open, it widened and he turned to look at Chuuya. “Did you just drift into a parallel park?"
Chuuya spat something in French that Dazai was too hazy to understand and scooped his husband into his arms— running into the building, up 4 flights of stairs and slamming the agency door open with his shoulder.
Every head snapped up as the latch broke, chaos ensuing as Chuuya ran to the agencies clinic. He was rushing past the offices where Atsushi had stuck his head out to see who was running.
A loud call of Dazai’s name had everyone else sprinting to look, Chuuya cursing the layout of the office for making him have to do a whole u-turn past the desk to get to the Doctor. It was a good strategic layout but damnit, something was wrong with his husbands head! And it wasn’t even mental this damn time!
Full on kicking Atsushi aside, Chuuya ran into the office and set Dazai down on a bed— the brunet having passed out sometime between the 2nd and 4th set of stairs. “Doc?!”
Yosano hurried from the next bed over, eyes wide as she took in a sweating and bloody-faced Dazai. “What the hell happened?!”
Chuuya felt Dazai’s pulse, panting and trying not to lose control as the Doctor started inspecting where the blood was coming from. “I have no clue! He was panicking a bit so I was comforting him— nothing too weird, he has panic attacks every day it gets rainy like this, and suddenly his eye started bleeding! That only ever happened once or twice before when he got too much concrete dust in it or some shit like that! We were just at home!”
Yosano hissed, gently prying open Dazai’s right eyelid. Blood poured down her hand and she shoved her phone into Chuuya’s palm as he cried his partners name.
“You!” She snapped, opening the work phone. “Type the number I tell you, and then I NEED you to go get the person I talk to from the hospital, got it?! This is bad, and if I want to salvage his eye, I need that surgeons help. Now type this number—“
Chuuya’s hand clenched right around the phone as he typed, watching Yosano press more and more slowly bloodying gauze to his husbands face. He knew the eye was damaged, but fuck.
Waking up, Dazai decided, sucked.
Peeling his eye open, the brunet let out a groan and a soft wheeze. This was definitely Yosano’s clinic, but…why was he here again?
A small noise beside him made Dazai jump— whining as he was unable to open his other eye at all. “…h…llo?”
There was another shuffle, and then a hand grabbed his own. Chuuya came into his line of sight and Dazai relaxed as a freckled cheek was laid into his palm. He rubbed his thumb weakly under Chuuya’s cheekbone.
“Hey Mackerel,” Chuuya said gruffly, voice thick, like he’d just woken up. “How ya feelin’?”
Dazai shrugged and let his head sink deeper into his pillows. “…I’m okay. Thirsty. What happened?”
Chuuya reached over, grabbing a cup of room temperature water with a straw in it and holding it to Dazai’s lips. “Sip; then I’ll answer.”
Dazai just closed his eye in acceptance, taking a few pulls before letting go. “Mm…thanks.”
“Sure….fuck, mackerel, you scared the hell out of me.”
Dazai furrowed his brows. “What happened?”
A knock at the door of the office cut Chuuya off again and made Dazai huff loudly. Atsushi’s head peeked in, and then he came in to leave food and water by the bedside. “Hey, Nakahara-san. Ranpo said—“
“Atsushiiiii!” Dazai whined, lip stuck out in a pout.
The were-tigers eyes widened and he stared for a moment before running out. Dazai huffed again, looking to Chuuya who was snickering at the younger boys panic.
Yosano came in a couple minutes later, Fukuzawa right behind her, arms crossed in his yukata.
Dazai’s pout turned into a frown. “President?”
Yosano pressed a stethoscope to his chest to listen as Fukuzawa sat on the edge of the bed. “Morning, Dazai.” The older man hummed. “How are you feeling?”
“Confused,” Dazai grumbled. “What happened? What do you mean morning? It’s like 8 pm.”
Yosano shoved a thermometer into his mouth, frowning. “Dazai, you came in here at 7 pm yesterday. It’s 10:45 on Tuesday.”
Chuuya nodded when Dazai looked to him for confirmation, petting the back of his husbands palm, careful of the heartbeat monitor on Dazai’s finger.
“Wh..But…”
Yosano reached out, grabbing Dazai’s other hand. “Dazai. You came in here yesterday with a large clot in your right eye; we had to do a full enucleation before it hemorrhaged anymore than it already had. There was no way we could have saved it.”
Dazai let out a soft “oh” and looked around, his good eye fluttering. “That’s not so bad I guess…it was blind anyway.”
Yosano and Fukuzawa let out a shaky exhale— meeting eyes, before looking at Dazai. “How long?”
The brunet hummed and gave a wide yawn. “Mmm…let’s see, I met Chuuya at 15...Mori at 13…”
Another yawn, and he sunk deeper into the pillows. “Got kicked onto the street around 8…so maybe around 10? So 13 years I think.”
Chuuya choked. “Wait wait— I thought you went blind in it at 17?!”
Dazai blinked. Winked? He gave a soft giggle and pulled his hand from Yosano to grope for his water, relaxing as Fukuzawa grabbed it and held the straw for him. “Mmm, thanks da...”
Fukuzawa let out a soft noise, and Dazai, dizzy and content, continued on. “No, that’s when I went fully blind in that eye, from that big concrete chunk. When I was like 10, I got some kinda infection, and the sheep stole eye drops for me,” he felt Chuuya tense, “I think because they wanted me to join, but I said no. After that it kinda got all hazy and blurry, but I could see shapes. Colors. But, it made me dizzy so I wrapped it up. And then I met Mori and he never cared to Fix anything, so he just offered to pluck it out.” Dazai winced as his head swam and let out a warbling groan. “Is my eyelid all messed up?”
Yosano shook her head. “No, no. You’ll be alright. I brought in an associate of mine that specializes in eyes and ears. They did your enucleation while I helped. He put in a sort of cup, so if you want, in a couple months, you can pick a prosthetic.”
Dazai blinked and yawned. “Can I pick what it looks like?”
Yosano nodded, and Fukuzawa grabbed Dazai’s hand from Yosano. “The agency’s insurance covers all of this— including the bespoke prosthetic and all the care after. Take time to get back on your feet, alright, Dazai?”
The brunet nodded and let his eye shut. “Yeah…how’re the kids? Didn’t scare them, did I?”
A large warm hand ruffled his hair gently and tucked his bangs back. “They’re all crowding the door waiting to see you.”
Dazai cooed and eyed the door. “They can come in.” He mumbled.
Chuuya reached forward to wipe some sleepy tears from Dazai’s now solo eye. “How about a nap first? When you’re not so tired we can see about your tiger boy fussing.”
His husband grumbled and pressed a sloppy kiss to Chuuya’s palm. “Mmm, no one could fuss more than Chibi anyway.”
Yosano chuckled, standing and smiling down at him. “Ain’t that the truth. Rest up, Dazai. Nakahara—“
Chuuya’s head snapped up.
“I need to speak with you,” Yosano continued, “just about some after care and give you the number of the surgeon who did Dazai’s surgery.”
Dazai giggled, watching Yosano adjust something on his IV, his pupil blown and smile lopsided. “Chibi is the best at aftercare.”
Fukuzawa covered his mouth in a small laugh and stood, heading to the door. “I’ll update the younger ones and Kunikida; if you need me, I’ll likely be in the office calling traffic control to have Nakahara’s violations excused.”
Chuuya gave a deep bow with a flushed face, hat off and held to his chest. “Ah…thanks. Dazai, be good, take a nap. I’ll bring you some tea when I get back, alright?”
After getting nothing but a soft snore in return, Chuuya just hummed at the warmth in his chest from seeing his husband resting safely and followed the two out of the clinic.
Fukuzawa herded the rest of the detectives to the seating area, and Yosano and Chuuya walked down the stairs to the café where Yosano let her body fold over the table. “I swear to God he’s like an obsidian hammer. One good thwack and he’s chipping all over.”
Chuuya huffed in amusement. “Tell me about it. So;” he took a small notebook from his bolero’s pocket. “Aftercare, and the surgeons phone number?”
Yosano nodded— rattling off the number and going through the list. “Right now, the lid is stitched closed, but in a couple weeks, after the muscle tissue is all healed and the swelling goes down, he can get fitted for a prosthetic. I’d say 2 and a half, maybe 3 weeks, and that’ll all be good. He can pick whatever he wants to get, color, pupil shape, whatever the hell, but it can’t actually be put in for maybe 3 months, just so he gets used to everything first. His movement and capability should be mostly alright considering he was fully blind in that eye beforehand, so he likely won’t knock into or bump anything like a normal patient. The surgeon can recommend a good ocularist, they’re the people that make the eye, and they’ll tell you all you need to know at that appointment.”
Chuuya nodded— all of it written word for word in his quick, slightly sloppy handwriting. “Got it. How soon can he go home?”
Yosano hummed. “Couple of days. Usually 2, but just because of all of his issues I’d be more comfortable with 3, maybe even 4 depending on his vertigo and appetite. Speaking of which—“ she took out the listed copy of the medications Dazai was on and pointed out his new anti-depressant. “This drug tends to make people sweat, and interrupt fluid balance. It made his blood thicken up from lack of fluids, and I believe that’s what caused the clot to move and hemorrhage.”
Chuuya’s grip on his pen tensed. “All this happened…because he was dehydrated?”
Yosano shrugged, exhausted from helping with a late surgery, and the overall anxious energy of the office for the past 12+ hours. No one had gone home last night except the servers and the office workers. “In short term, yeah. I’ll swap his anti-depressant for something else for now. Honestly, I don’t even know who prescribed that to him cause it wasn’t me, and—“
Chuuya frowned. “Wait; you handle the Agencies medication, don’t you?”
Yosano made a so-so motion with her hand. “I handle doses and recommend a good drug. If our supplier has it in stock, great. If they don’t, I have to scramble for whatever scraps they had so my patient doesn’t end up with a noose. He was only supposed to be on those for a week, maximum, until his actual drug could get here. However,”
She smiled at an approaching waitress, ordering a cappuccino while Chuuya ordered an espresso, needing the caffeine desperately. As soon as the waitress walked away with the order, Yosano’s fist slammed into the table, leaving a large dent. “The next time they try to go from something that works to something that’s cheap for the company, I’ll take my chainsaw to all of them.”
Chuuya, listening closely, suddenly gave a terrifying, enraged look as a shadow came over his face. “My husband lost an eye and bled all over our home after crying because some fucker decided one drug was cheaper and left Dazai with a shitty product that cost them less money?”
Yosano nodded. “Essentially. The drugs he took to make his mind not consume itself in its misdirected fear and anger at the world almost made his right eye explode.”
Chuuya snarled, and a chunk of the table they sat at broke off in his grip.
“If you’ll excuse me?” He hissed, body glowing bright red and expression enraged as they landed on Yosano, “I have an insurance company to go tear down brick by brick.”
“Good boy,” Yosano hummed, dark eyes watching him fly out the front door, “pull off someone’s head for me!”
Chuuya gave her a salute, and in the next blink, he was gone— flying through the air and shattering a couple windows as he kicked off the sides of buildings, looking at the company listed on Dazai’s medical file.
Vengeance was well deserved.
It was hours before Dazai woke up again— blinking at the ceiling and letting out a soft whine as his throat protested. Looking around as best he could, a loud huff escaped him and he started to squirm. His heart rate monitor was gone at least, and slowly, he pulled his IV along with him as he stood.
Head swimming, he stood still for a moment, before waddling out of the clinic in a hospital gown that thankfully covered everything and wobbled towards the water dispenser. Looking around the office, he pouted. Not even Chibi was there to scold him for being up.
“Hello...?” He called out, voice croaky and pulling a soft cough from his chest. “Chuuya? Yosano?”
Nothing.
Dazai let out a louder whine and looked towards the hall again. Maybe Ranpo or the president...?
Waddling down the hall, he could definitely hear the president and happily sped up— bare feet sounding on the tiles as he knocked weakly on the door to the man’s office. There was a moment, and then a voice called out “Come in.”
Pushing open the door, Dazai smiled and walked in with a yawn. “President!” Dazai cheered, wobbling in and standing in front of his desk. “Where’s everybody?”
“Dazai—? Why are you out of bed?”
The brunet pouted. “They left me all alone in there…I was bored and it looks like even Chibi went home without me.”
Fukuzawa sighed, standing and reaching out for Dazai to grab onto his arm as he brought the young man back to the infirmary. “I’ll sit with you, how does that sound? I told Ranpo not to leave you alone by yourself, but I suppose he got distracted.”
“So Chuuya did go home?”
Fukuzawa’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to ask.”
The brunet looked down, shrugging and wincing as it jostled his IV. “If he did that’s alright— he gets cranky when he doesn’t sleep, and he was in the middle of cleaning when I interrupted him with…this.” He gestured to his face. “If he wanted to go home and relax a bit while I was here, that’s understandable.”
Dazai took a deep breath, remembering the agency’s scolding of wanting him to be more open with them. “It’s not okay…” he croaked, “but I’d understand I guess.”
Fukuzawa’s fist clenched; the arm not held out for Dazai to hold tensing. If the gravity manipulator didn’t have a good reason to leave, there was a decent chance he wouldn’t come back into this office at all with the way Dazai had sounded. Yukichi wouldn’t let him.
Carefully, Fukuzawa helped Dazai to the bathroom and then to look out the bullpens window for a moment (the boy had given him such a sad look, how could he not?!) and just as they passed the fake hedge to go back out into the hall, at the end of the corridor, the elevator opened and Yosano and Chuuya walked in. The redhead was carrying a take-out bag and a duffel, and Yosano held a packet of papers she was using to explain something to Chuuya, a small paper bag held in one of her hands. They were laughing together, Chuuya’s high laugh echoing down the halls and making Dazai’s fingers curl where they clung to his yukata.
Fukuzawa cleared his throat, arms crossing as Dazai mumbled something and leaned his head on the man’s shoulder. As soon as he’d been done looking out the window, he’d grown tired again, and Yukichi was trying to bring him back to bed despite a few protests.
Their heads snapped up, and Chuuya set everything on the ground to rush forward, eyes wide with a bit of panic, hands fluttering over Dazai’s face and checking his IV.
“Osamu, why are you up?”
Dazai leaned into every touch and whined, peeling his eye open. “Chibi was gone…had to pee and I was thirsty. No one came to help so I stood up. I got dizzy and I knew if I fell, I’d be in even more trouble so I went to Fukuzawa and he helped me.”
Wincing, Yosano came forward to hurry Dazai back to bed. “Alright— that’s my bad, I should’ve known you’d wake up again soon with how you react to general anesthesia. I’m sorry for leaving you alone in the room, let’s get you back to bed— I was the one that called Chuuya to come with me.”
Dazai grumbled, dodging Yosano’s grabs to bury a hand in Chuuya’s coat, and another in Fukuzawa’s Yukata.
"Where’s everyone else?“ he asked softly, setting his head on one of the other men’s shoulders— unsure of who until the smell of tea, and the feeling of a hand settling protectively over the entire back of his head permeated his senses.
The young man let out a soft noise, the warm hand covering his skull helping him to slump— knees almost giving way until Fukuzawa held him up, one arm around the brunets waist.
Hurrying to haul him towards the clinic, Fukuzawa gave Chuuya a withering look. “At least leave a note next time.” He said firmly, eyes tense as he hauled one of the many children Mori had traumatized towards the medical bay. “You, of all people, should know how he feels with abandonment.”
Only once had Fukuzawa seen Dazai have a panic attack at being left alone— but it had been enough to cement into his mind that the boy detested it. Ranpo had explained some of it to him; something about a shipping crate and a harsh, freezing cold winter that had left water spilling into the shipping yard until it had almost gone 4 inches under. It was one of the same reasons Dazai always complained about cold feet, Ranpo had mumbled. Why Dazai had requested a second-floor dorm, and nothing else; not even requested a bed or taken up Fukuzawa, Ranpo, or Yosano’s offers to go shopping for household items.
Similar reasons to why Fukuzawa always tried to have enough money set aside every Thursday for a sushi platter for the office from a nearby buffet restaurant, always with crab, and always fresh. Dazai was definitely the most worrying of his “ran off by Mori” duo.
Yosano was mostly self-sufficient; the doctor was confident and had stood up to Mori before on her own. Dazai had his moments, but outside of those times, the man was horribly stressed, unhealthy, and unhappy in ways Yukichi simply couldn’t fix. Not without a lot of effort, and time the older man simply didn’t have to spare to continue running the agency as it was as the sole person in charge.
Yukichi was wise, but he had no idea of how to correctly help a traumatized and tortured young man who had grown up sleeping on the cold concrete or in a metal box instead of a warm bed. Surrounded by potential assassins instead of friends or peers who wouldn’t be willing to knife him in the back to take one step up on the ladder.
Sighing, Fukuzawa carefully settled Dazai into his bed, petting the younger man’s hair back so he could press his palm to Dazai’s forehead. It was cold. Rather than the fever one would usually run after surgery, Dazai felt chilled. It made the elder frown; pulling his phone from his sleeve, he texted Haruno to turn the heat up in the office and went back to running fingers through Dazai’s hair.
Hearing the heat kick on a few moments later, the man smiled. He had a good team. Hopefully, they would be able to help where Fukuzawa couldn’t. Standing, he turned and rose a brow at the man standing in the corner.
“Are you going to come over here, or shall I keep comforting your husband?”
Chuuya flushed and walked over, grumbling softly under his breath before sitting on the edge of the bed, adjusting Dazai’s blanket and the bandages on his face.
“I just went home to grab some of his comfort things and grab a coffee.” Chuuya mumbled, almost shy. “I was up all night just wondering if the clot had spread like Yosano said it might. Of all the things to take Dazai out, for it to be his own body— not even by suicide but by his body trying to heal him and being shit at it.”
Chuuya gave a weak, watery chuckle and played with Dazai’s hand, massaging his palm. “I didn’t realize he’d wake up again so soon. When we were younger, after surgery, he was always down for a day and a half. That could’ve been the boss fucking with his meds I guess, but…”
Chuuya gave a dry laugh and pressed his forehead to Dazai’s. “What would be new about that?”
Standing, the man grabbed the take-out he’d brought and the duffel, pulling them closer. “I got him lunch. The Doc said if he can eat and keep it down, he can at least go back to his dorm later. Closer than the apartment.”
Fukuzawa hummed. “And you?”
Chuuya eyed the older man. “I’ll be right there with him, even in that stinky garbage-filled dorm. Lord knows it needs cleaning more than our place.”
Tilting his head a bit, Yukichi thought for a moment, and then stood. “I will be right back; I have something I’d like to show you.”
Chuuya watched him go. Eyes snapping back to Dazai, the redhead ran fingers through Dazai’s hair and leaned down to nuzzle their noses together. “My poor fish…”
Dazai’s nose wiggled— squirming a little and giving a wide yawn, before trying to roll over. Chuuya had to catch his shoulder, chuckling and petting his cheek when the other man whined and leaned into the palm. “Eh…?”
“Shh, shh.” Chuuya soothed. “You can’t roll over, babe, you have an IV.”
Dazai blinked sleepily and gave another big yawn. “Chibi…?”
The mafioso frowned, scooting closer to the bed. Dazai seemed much more out of it then before. “You alright sweetheart? Dizzy?”
The brunet nodded, looking around. “Mm….m a little hungry I think…”
Chuuya perked. “Oh! I got you food, just wait here for a second, okay?”
He kissed all over the other man’s face before standing. Chuuya knew he was being quite a bit more affectionate than usual, but watching your partner pass out with blood spilling down their face after they’d been fine only 10 minutes before, and then going through such a heavy surgery, losing a permanent part of themself, and not sleeping for the past 30 hours at least— Chuuya gave Dazai one more kiss, making the brunet hum, and then dipped out to grab the take-out bag, and the duffel with things like clothes and Dazai’s socks.
He hurried back soon after to dig out some French fries and shove a few into his own mouth, and then a few into Dazai’s. “Fried chicken good, or you want something Less greasy?”
Dazai shook his head. “Chickens okay.”
Taking a drumstick, he ate slowly and sleepily— Chuuya helping him to sit up a bit. After a few minutes of their meal, the door opened again and Fukuzawa walked in with a packet of papers.
They eyed him, and the man rose a brow with an amused smile. “Fried chicken so soon after surgery?”
Dazai huffed. “You should be glad I’m eating! I just lost an organ!”
Fukuzawa chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed, holding out the packet for them to both see. Dazai, more focused on his food for the moment, let Chuuya take them.
Looking through them, the mafioso hummed. “4 bed, two bath, designated office space, a big western style kitchen…a back yard too? And a small garage. I didn’t know they had houses like this in Yokohama.”
Fukuzawa nodded. “There’s not many; That’s the reason for the price.”
Glancing at the number, Chuuya whistled. “That is pricey. A full 6 months worth of salary.”
Dazai choked, coughing and covering his mouth as he looked at Chuuya. “A house?! 6 months salary?! Please tell me you’re talking about my salary and not yours—“
Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Dazai, you still have almost 80% of the salary you got as an executive in an account. You’ve made another million just off of interest. You have over a billion yen in stock.”
Dazai whined. “But that’s for emergencies! What if you lose a leg or something?! We need to be able to afford care until you can find a job you’d like, cause no way you’d just quit, and the surgery and the prosthetic and what if you get targeted by the mafia?! We’d have to move countries and—“
Chuuya reached out, grabbing Dazai’s hand. “Babe. Deep breath. I’m fine. We’re safe. We have plenty of savings to be able to afford something like a house. We could buy like 9 of this house and still afford a Mercedes or some shit. I’m not gonna lose a leg, and if I do, that doctor of yours can heal me. Remember?”
He grabbed Dazai’s nose and squeezed it gently. “I know Mori kept your money from you, and you hoarded money cause you were saving up if you had to get away, but you’re safe now. I’m safe with Kouyou-Ane and Hirotsu to look out for me, and Mori is more chill now. We can be comfy and together and be fine. He knows we’re together, remember dumbass?”
Dazai whined and rubbed his nose, getting grease from the chicken all over his face. “Yeah, I just…i like our apartment. We’ve been there for 5 years…”
Chuuya smiled softly. “I know, babe. But with this we’ll be closer to that ocean hill your friend is on, too. We’ll be close to both the PM and ADA for us both.”
He scooted a little closer to Dazai, resting his head on Dazai’s shoulder and showing him the photo of the 3rd bedroom. “There’s room for a bigger studio, and another big room for your craft and game hoard.”
Dazai bit his lip, thinking of the room that had started all of this. Holding Chuuya’s hand, he pulled it around him until it rested on his abdomen. “Or something else?”
Chuuya took in a deep breath, staring up at Dazai with want and surprise. They had never talked about something like that, but…
He gave a soft smile and nodded, squeezing Dazai tight. “Or someone else, yeah.”
From in front of them, Fukuzawa smiled softly, hidden as he turned away to watch the door open and Yosano come inside. “Hello, Akiko. Your call went well?”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, just the surgeon updating me on the surgery and everything. It was textbook, other than a bit of excess bleeding. As long as Dazai keeps his iron and blood sugar levels up, he should be alright and needs to come in once a week for a check up until he can get his prosthetic fitted.”
Fukuzawa nodded, looking at the couple who had moved. Dazai was falling asleep again— slowly chewing a few French fries as Chuuya kneeled to look through the duffel bag.
He pulled out a pair of soft compression socks— shifting Dazai’s leg from under the blanket, Chuuya rolled up the sock and started to put it on Dazai’s foot as the taller of the pair watched.
Yosano frowned, looking at the socks, but just watched as she sat down in her chair. “How you feeling, Dazai?”
The brunet hummed, finishing the mouthful of food and then slumping into the bed a bit more. “I’m okay…I want my IV out, and I want to stop my birth control after I’m done with this month—“
Chuuya choked on nothing, coughing as Yosano laughed and Fukuzawa chuckled, hiding it behind his sleeve.
“But other than that, I’m okay.”
Yosano laughed a bit longer, watching as Chuuya whacked Dazai’s foot for making him choke. “That’s good! Once your IV is done you won’t need another. If you can stomach that food, I’ll just keep you one more day. Then you can head home to the dorms, alright?”
Dazai winced. Chuuya wouldn’t be happy about the state of his dorms. Alcohol and can’s that were, by now, probably full of mold and slime. “Can we go home?” Dazai asked softly.
Chuuya eyed him, finishing putting on Dazai’s other sock. He pulled a pair of soft, yellow socks with a grippy white material on the bottom from the bag next and put them on top of the compression socks as Dazai smiled and wiggled his toes.
She frowned. “I would like you closer than farther away,” she admitted, “but if it would make you more comfortable to be at your apartment instead of the dorm, I’d be willing to allow it.”
Dazai nodded, yawning and leaning on the wall behind the bed. “I wanna go home.” He mumbled, rubbing his eye. “I know where everything is at home better than at the office cause of how often Kenji hauls the desks around.”
Yosano hummed. “Yeah, you can go home tomorrow then, as long as you can keep some food and some solid pain killers down instead of through your IV.”
Chuuya thought for a moment— looking at the printed-out house listing and eyeing the address. It was a solid drive 20 minutes either way to the PM headquarters and the ADA, if you obeyed the speed limits. But, there was a short cut that made a walk to the ADA only 10 minutes. Perfect for Dazai, and any fast get aways they would need, but not so far that if Dazai was having a fatigue day that Chuuya couldn’t drive him easily enough.
Listening to Dazai and Yosano chat, the mafioso turned to Fukuzawa and nodded in thanks. The house was as good as one they could get right off the listing. Two floors, but all of the essentials like the master bedroom and the one of extra bedrooms on the ground floor. Dazai didn’t have too much problems with stairs themselves, but seeing his husband fall down then once already had made Chuuya more scared for Dazai. Especially if Dazai was planning on expanding their family in the near future. And wasn’t that a hell of an idea.
Chuuya had always wanted kids. To give a kid the chances he never had and keep them safe from the horrors he’d been through. Then he’d discovered he was gay and into Dazai, which had put a stopper in those plans until he’d remembered Adoption was a thing. Almost impossible, for a gay couple in Japan, but still a thing. Then moving on to discovering Dazai had the bits necessary, and well…Chuuya had hoped, but never assumed, that Dazai would one day be willing and wanting to have a kid.
Clearly it wouldn’t be for a while, but— he leaned up to pull Dazai in for a short kiss. “I’m gonna go make some calls, Mackerel. Stay here and call for me if you need something, alright?”
Dazai nodded, yawning and going back to his talk with Yosano, and now Fukuzawa as well. “You picked out a house?”
The president nodded. “Yes. I was looking at ones for Poe and Ranpo to be completely honest, but then I saw one that would be perfect for the two of you. Kyouka is going to want a dorm of her own soon enough, if we don’t end up pulling in another stray. I think having your own space away from work will help you as well. You shouldn’t have to choose if you want to be near the agency or near your husband. It’s not like you two are hiding any longer. I think it’ll be healthy for you.”
Dazai grumbled and looked away. “Yeah…” he yawned and huffed softly, snuggling down into the bed. “…can I have my IV out now?”
Yosano laughed and nodded. “Yes, you can. But you better not pick at the gauze or I’m putting mittens on you.”
“Oooh, kinky.” Dazai teased, making Yosano laugh again. “I‘ll have to tell Chibi you wanna join our Thursday night activities.”
The doctor pulled out the needle and carefully cleaned the small bit of blood that welled up, slapping gauze and tape on top. “Is that why you never come in on Fridays? Too busy getting “busy” the night before?”
Dazai shrugged. “Maybe~ But also my hours are technically lower than your alls in favor of me doing more behind the scenes work.”
Yosano turned to Fukuzawa, who nodded. “Dazai is nearly part time.” He told her. “He keeps an eye on Yokohama as a whole rather than just the cases that come to us, and because of that I give him less hours. He keeps an eye on things a lot more broadly, and we deal with more precise threats such as the DOA or The Guild. Though, I believe you handled that as well, Dazai?”
The man nodded. “Yep! I made a deal with Fitzgerald, and in return he’s on our side or will supply what we need, no questions asked. He has a decent amount of stock in the Mori Corporation, and a few businesses I and Chibi have over 50% ownership in together that helped him build his fortune back up. Nothing major— just some restaurants and a few bars really, but it was enough for him to invest and work back up. Chibi mainly handles the businesses. You guys should come to the bar we have downtown! It’s really nice, and Chibi helped me make a cocktail menu we just put in last week!”
Fukuzawa nodded. “Good. Perhaps we can celebrate your recovery once you’re feeling up to it.”
Dazai waved a hand. “If we celebrate my recovery every time I’m sick or injured we’d be drunk 24/7. Just come by any time, ask them to talk to Chuuya or Dazai and they’ll know that we know you. They’ll ask if we should give you a discount or anything.”
Sighing, he slumped back into the bed now that his IV was out. “I don’t remember anesthesia making me so sleepy….usually I’m just out and then I wake up feeling more refreshed.”
Yosano scoffed. “That’s cause Mori fucked with your doses. He gave you too much, so when you woke up, you’d have gotten decent rest as your body slept it off. There shouldn’t be too many lasting effects of anything but keep an eye on your liver.”
Dazai winced, thinking of all the alcohol he consumed. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Walking back in, Chuuya ran his fingers through Dazai’s hair. “Tired, fish?”
The man nodded, tilting his head up into the strokes. “Mhmm. Will Chibi sit with me though?”
“I dunno,” Chuuya hummed, “I don’t want my coat to smell like seafood.”
Dazai gasped in fake-offense and kicked out— slamming his ankle into Chuuya’s hip. “How dare you! See if I EVER let you near my box again!”
Chuuya barked out a laugh, grabbing Dazai’s leg and wiggling it, before tossing it back to the bed. “It’s your whole self, stinky fish, not your box!”
Behind them, Fukuzawa stood and hurried out of the room. This was the last thing he wanted to hear the two 23-year-olds yell about. Yosano was just watching, snickering and pulling a bottle of wine from a mini fridge under her desk.
“Find someone else to put up with your stinky wet dog smell then!” Dazai huffed, crossing his arms and turning his nose up and away. “AND your tacky hat collection!”
“OI! It’s not tacky, you fucker! What’s tacky is your dumb sweaters!”
Dazai gave another offended noise and gaped at him. “You said you liked them!”
Chuuya rolled his eyes and flopped onto the bed next to his husband. “Dazai. Babe. You made them 3 sizes too small in purpose and used the scratchiest wool ever. The only knit thing I have from you that actually fits is the scarf you made me.”
Dazai grumbled and gave Chuuya a weak punch to the stomach. “Yeah, well, I worked hard on that scarf. You better use it every day after it gets cold.”
“I will, promise. Even if the colors are absolutely gaudy. Yellow and green babe? Really?”
“It was all I had!”
“It was not!”
Watching the two argue, Yosano laughed and turned back to fill in more of Dazai’s medical file as she sipped her wine.
Past Surgeries: wisdom teeth, setting of a compound fracture, multiple bullet wounds sutured & extracted, surgery to chest and sternum area following through and through from a high caliber round, enucleation of right eye,
They were running out of space. She updated the medications to show Dazai wished to stop his oral contraceptives following his current prescription being finished and turned back around to watch Chuuya pull a sleeping Dazai to his chest as he browsed on his phone.
“I call godmother.” She teased, eyeing where Chuuya’s hand rested over Dazai’s abdomen.
Chuuya snorted. “You’ll have to battle Kouyou for it; then again, two is better than one.”