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It had been an oddly normal day so far at the coffee shop. Ranpo, Yosano, and Dazai had been on duty. The normal amount of customers had come in, and a couple of regulars visited as well. The time was nearing 8:00; therefore, Dazai had been wiping off the countertop and wrapping things around the shop up. His other two companions were in the back of the shop, cleaning up there.
It had been a particularly long day for Dazai. He had been at the shop since 12. He greeted customers as soon as he arrived, acting like he hadn’t had a blade to his wrist the previous night. He acted like he had gotten an ounce of sleep last night. (He wished he had.)
However, the day wasn’t too harsh on him overall. Ranpo and Yosano forced the poor brunette to go out to grab lunch with them despite his protests. Dazai hadn’t regretted eating though. He probably wouldn’t have made it through the day if he didn’t eat anything. Also, Ranpo bought an extra piece of chocolate cake for Dazai’s consumption. Dazai guessed Ranpo could tell that he had been cowering inside of his head more than usual today. It took a bit of urging, but Dazai eventually took a tentative bite. The cake turned out to be quite good. At least he could always count on his friends to make him feel better.
The brown-haired barista hummed to himself as he wiped off counters. Dazai’s head perked up at the sound of his phone getting a notification. A soft, barley-visible smile formed on his face as he walked over to check his phone he had laid on a chair behind the bar connected to the ordering counter.
Chuuya, his boyfriend of recently two months was supposed to be taking him to dinner tonight. Although Dazai was barely hungry from the lunch he had earlier, he would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with his adorable red-haired partner.
The pair’s newly found relationship was hardly a shock to any of their friends. One day Chuuya had just shown up at the coffee shop, and after meeting Dazai, he soon became a regular. Their incessant flirting had been a bother to everyone in their vicinity. It seemed that Dazai had always thought up another cheesy, mildly sexual joke each day to tell to Chuuya. Could you really blame Dazai for going after that, he quotes, “fine piece of ass” though? When Dazai wanted something, he got it.
However, after months of endless flirting and idiotic pining, everyone was relieved once the pair got together, especially Dazai’s friends. The man had gotten out of an overly toxic relationship around three months before he met Chuuya. Dazai’s friends were beginning to believe that he would never get over his ex-boyfriend before Chuuya magically appeared.
It wasn’t as if Dazai hadn’t recognized the man’s overflowing toxicness, he did. However, sometimes it was just hard for Dazai to care about how he was being treated. Fyodor had treated him exactly how Dazai felt he deserved to be treated. The two of them leaned into each other’s bad habits and allowed each other to spiral out of control. Dazai’s scar collection had grown the most rapidly it had ever been before during the time he was with Dostoevsky.
Dazai would be lying if he said he hadn’t gone back to Fyodor after their breakup to just feel something, anything. He’d also be lying if he said that Fyodor didn’t know how to fuck someone into oblivion.
Sometimes he wondered if it was normal for Chuuya to be so soft with him, so gentle and caring. It felt wrong.
Glancing down at his phone, Dazai read the text and shook the thoughts that were swarming his head.
Chibi <3: still down for dinner?
Dazai typed out a quick yes with some added heart emojis next to it. He was smiling a bit more now, that was until the bell attached to the door rang out loudly in the silence of the empty coffee shop.
Speak of the devil and he’ll come.
There at the entrance of the shop stood a man with matted black hair and dilated pupils. The man’s deep purple eyes seemed to swirl invitingly towards Dazai, closer and closer. The brunette could almost feel himself already slipping back into bad habits. That was, until the phone he now had an alarmingly tight grasp on buzzed once more. That’s right. Chuuya. His mind supplied. Chuuya was coming for him. He had Chuuya now, someone who legitimately cared for him.
Dazai’s throat seemed to close up on him unwillingly, but he still weakly croaked out, “We’re closed.” He glanced over at a bland clock mounted up on the wall. 8:04. The shop closed four minutes ago.
The man smiled, slowly stepping further into the coffee shop. “What, can’t make time for your favorite customer?” he taunted.
Dazai shook his head unbelievingly. Fyodor knew that he worked here, knew that things were officially over for them, so why had he come? The awkward one-night stands hadn’t happened in at least three months, maybe four, but especially not since Chuuya and he had gotten together. The mornings when Dazai scrambled to put his clothes back on all while being taunted by Fyodor’s insolent remarks from where he lay in bed, instantly regretting his decision to allow Fyodor to take advantage of him like that were over. Yet he always came back, that was until Chuuya came along.
Chuuya and Dazai hadn’t had sex yet, despite Dazai’s casual dropping of sexual innuendos and hints that he’d like to. Chuuya wanted to take things slow he said. Slow. It was a concept Dazai had to relearn after being with Fyodor. They had all the time in the world, Chuuya claimed. And maybe Dazai was okay with that. Maybe he didn’t mind waiting instead of scurrying back to Fyodor like some pathetic, homesick puppy.
“Why are you here?” Dazai barely managed to murmur the words, his head still swimming with thoughts and questions.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Dostoevsky quirked his head to the side. “To take what’s mine,” he explained, voice nonchalant. His words flowed smoothly, matching how he sauntered over to Dazai behind the counter.
Dazai automatically backed away with narrowed eyes from the man smirking at him, his body working on autopilot until his back hit the counter. He was only followed, like a hunter chasing its prey.
Fyodor was obviously on something. He was frequently using during their relationship and even during their hookups. Even that cocky, confident bastard wouldn’t come into Dazai’s place of work to harass him in his normal mind.
When Dazai said nothing in response to his advances Fyodor spoke again. “Hmm? Cat got your tongue?” He reached up and pressed his thumb to Dazai’s lips, pushing at the pink, chapped skin. Dazai felt frozen as he just listened to Fyodor. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t tell Fyodor to get his fucking hands off.
This is how it always was when the other man initiated things. Dazai was never eager to follow through with Fyodor’s plans, proving how he still exerted much control over Dazai. But eventually, Fyodor would always push Dazai down into submission. He would always get to have his way with the other, but not today. Dazai wouldn’t, no, couldn’t let that happen.
“What do you think baby? We could go back to my place, have some fun,” his words were beginning to sound more slurred, betraying how fucked up he was from whatever pills he had taken tonight. “I’d treat you real nice, make you feel so good,” Fyodor pressed up against Dazai’s taller figure. “or I could treat you like the nasty whore you are.” Dazai could feel Fyodor’s hot breath casting onto his cheek, scorching his skin instantly. It stung.
“I could cut you if you’d like,” Fyodor mused, more to himself than Dazai. His voice was deep and raspy. “You liked that last time, didn’t you? You still doing that shit to yourself?” His half-lidded eyes stared up at Dazai’s wide, doe-like pupils filled with panic. That fucked up smile was still present on Fyodor’s face as he looked at Dazai, expecting a response.
When he didn’t get one, the black-haired man’s mood visibly worsened. “What’s the matter with you? Huh?” He frowned at Dazai. He was shaking, breath coming out in unsteady gasps.
“You, I-” He stuttered, mind too clouded to think clearly. Dazai was an idiot to think that he could get rid of Fyodor that easily. One simple text stating he wanted to break things off obviously didn’t work. Rats always come back for more.
Suddenly, Dostoyevsky’s face lit up like he had found the solution that could magically fix everything that had happened in their whole fucked up relationship. He tilted his head at Dazai, confused. “You scared since it’s been a while? Don’t worry, I’m still into pussy.” He licked his lips as he stared Dazai’s trembling body up and down.
The brunette’s eyes were still locked onto Fyodor’s, unable to look away from his captivating gaze.
That’s when the door to the coffee shop opened once again, and Dazai’s startled eyes could finally look away from the man standing right before him.
There Chuuya stood, looking just as startled as Dazai did, body half trapped behind Fyodor’s stronger figure. A tear slipped down Dazai’s cheek, one he wasn’t even aware that he had been holding in until he saw Chuuya. His mouth opened, wanting to say something, but he couldn’t without gasping in a short, quick breath that was cut off by his restricting throat. He snapped his eyes shut, willing the tears to go away because he shouldn’t have been crying. Not then. He had to get a hold of himself.
He opened his mouth once again, now inhaling steadier breaths. Fyodor hadn’t even spared a glance at the door. He must’ve realized that someone had come in, he couldn’t have been out of it enough to not hear the bell ring.
Dazai had to force himself to look away from Chuuya’s deep blue, comforting eyes to look into the devil’s lavender purple half-lidded eyes. Dazai found himself preferring the color blue much more than purple these days.
“Get out,” Dazai croaked out, watery eyes trained on Fyodor.
The man’s face contorted into one of confusion. It appeared that Dazai disobeying him was not part of tonight’s plan. “What?” He spoke much louder than Dazai had, eyebrows now angrily furrowed at the other. How he could be so confused about Dazai’s rejection, Dazai had no clue. Had he not made it clear enough before that he was no longer interested in whatever they had?
“I SAID GET OUT,” Dazai spoke much louder than he needed to. His voice cracked halfway through the sentence and his voice rang throughout the building. The emotion that he had been trying so desperately to hide behind a stone-faced mask boiled out through his voice.
The unbelieving man scoffed at Dazai’s behavior. “What’s gotten into you? You fucking around with someone else now?” He moved closer so that their chests were pressing into each other. Dazai uncomfortably shifted.
“Yes, he is.” A response came from behind Fyodor, making the raggedy-looking man’s face snap around to look at the person who was speaking.
He quirked a curious eyebrow at Chuuya, then looked back at Dazai. “This your new boyfriend? I’m surprised.” He looked Chuuya up and down like he was some winning piece in a talent show.
The redhead who was dressed fancier than normal, fedora placed on top of his head to tie his outfit together, paid no mind to Fyodor’s taunting gaze.
“I believe he told you that he does not want you here.” Chuuya’s voice came out calm, but the man gritted his teeth to steady himself. He really did not want to lose his temper in front of Dazai, even if the anger wouldn’t be directed toward him. His boyfriend was already shaking and choking back tears, looking like a fallen, shriveled leaf.
Chuuya took a deep inhale, attempting to not let everything he had learned in anger management fly straight out of his brain as he met whoever this black-haired fucker was eyes.
“Yeah?” Fyodor stepped away from Dazai and approached Chuuya, tilting his head down to look at the shorter male. “Is some bitch as short as you going to do something about it?” The sly smile drifted back onto the purple-eyed menace’s face.
He looked up and down at the redhead once again, studying him more closely now, especially his more attractive features. His purple eyes zeroed in on the curve of Chuuya’s waist, eyes raking down to his hips. The man’s slim waist was made more prominent by the well-fitting, maroon suit he had on.
Dazai’s blood boiled. He carefully observed the scene unfolding in front of him with bated breath. Now that he had more space to himself, the brunette took notice of his own concerningly unsteady breath. He attempted to steady himself, but that was an especially hard thing to do when your own toxic, drug-addict ex was squaring off with your new boyfriend.
Dazai had planned to keep Fyodor away from Chuuya; things had been going according to plan up until now. They should have never met, and they would have never met if it was up to Dazai. However, Fyodor had a way of wedging himself into situations where he didn’t belong.
“You don’t want to find out what I’ll fucking do,” Chuuya hissed out in response to Fyodor’s taunts. Chuuya’s expression was slowly shifting into something that Dazai had never seen in all of his time knowing the other man. It was scary. Dazai could feel shivers coursing through his body at the thought of that expression being directed toward him.
Fyodor only responded with an equally as chilling smile. “Is that so?” He tilted his head as he met Chuuya’s eyes again.
He then spun around to look at Dazai, the poor man only beginning to regain his composure. “You’ve really got him spun around your finger, Osamu.” Dazai felt chilled at the use of his name.
“But he doesn’t know, does he?” His vague words pieced Dazai.
Doesn't know?
At this point, what did Chuuya know? Dazai bit his lip, meeting Fyodor’s icy eyes. His words were an unsaid threat.
He had the power to spill all of Dazai’s darkest secrets, things that should never see the light of day. Things that were undeniably mistakes for Fyodor to know. Things that kept Dazai bound to Fyodor, chained Dazai down to where he could never truly escape from the other man’s grasp.
“He doesn’t know; you’re just an empty shell of a human. Isn’t that right?” He mused, narrowing his eyes at Dazai.
Ah.
So this was Fyodor’s plan.
His aim was to scare Chuuya away from Dazai as a way of getting back at Dazai for leaving him.
He was going to make sure that not only Chuuya knew of Dazai’s overwhelming failure to be human, but that Dazai knew it as well. He would prove to Dazai that he wasn’t worthy of anyone else’s attention besides his. He would drill in the idea that Dazai was too corrupted to be loved and cherished by any other living, breathing human.
“You’re not real. You cut yourself for the fun of it, to see if you’ll actually feel anything,” a pause, another one of those fucking smiles, “and you don’t, do you?”
And that’s when Chuuya’s gloved hand heavily collided with the back of Fyodor’s head.
A loud, resounding THWACK rang throughout the now silent coffee shop, so loud it seemed to ring in Dazai’s eardrums. The impact of the punch sent Fyodor stumbling helplessly into the counter with another ear-shattering sound when a glass container slid out of place as his body collided with it.
If Dazai had seen Chuuya approaching the man in front of him, he wondered if he would have stopped him. He had been too hypnotized by Fyodor and his presence that he couldn’t focus on anything else. His mind was currently too out of place to decide if Fyodor had what was coming to him. Dazai couldn’t think.
Time seemed to speed up dramatically once Ranpo and Yosano came rushing into the shop, emerging from the storage room. They both held concerned expressions as they rapidly glanced around searching for answers. They found their answer after a few seconds of searching.
A passed-out rat in the form of a human lay slumped over on the coffee counter, a knot already beginning to surface on the back of his head.
Chuuya stood behind the said man staring down at his knuckles as if he wasn’t quite sure of what he had just done. He held an expression of fury, even now, after he had knocked out the bastard that was fucking with Dazai’s head.
Dazai’s breath picked up as he locked eyes with both Ranpo and Yosano as they rushed over to him.
“Damnit, I told him to scream if that piece of shit ever came back!” Ranpo muttered to Yosano with an outraged and concerned expression as they shared a look.
They both turned back to Dazai as his ragged breathing became more audible and out of control.
“Dazai, Dazai. Can you hear me?” Ranpo leaned in close to Dazai but didn’t touch him yet. He spoke in a steady tone, attempting to keep his cool and not upset Dazai even more.
An unsteady nod was Dazai’s response. His face was even paler than normal, leaving the shaking man looking like a ghost. His breathing wasn’t steadying and Ranpo bit his lip.
Dazai could normally keep his composure under any circumstance. What exactly had that bastard said?
Last time that Fyodor had come into the coffee shop uninvited, the reaction from Dazai hadn’t been half as bad; however, the situation couldn’t escalate since Ranpo had been tending to the coffee shop with Dazai. The sight of Fyodor had left Dazai a bit shaken, but nothing like what had happened this time.
“Can I touch you?” Ranpo softly asked, not moving closer. He patiently waited for a response, but after a few seconds, one didn’t come. The concern on Ranpo’s face increased as Dazai wouldn’t meet his gaze. His eyes were glued onto the floor.
“Dazai? May I touch you?” Ranpo asked once again. It was odd to see Ranpo speak so gently to someone since normally his words were blunt and straight to the chase.
Dazai bit his lip, an indicator that he had heard the other. However, after a few seconds of hesitation, Dazai shook his head in dismay. His eyes were clouded over, despair glued onto his expression.
Yosano frowned at Ranpo’s useless attempts to get Dazai to calm down.
An idea hit the purple-haired woman as she glanced back to take another look at Nakahara. The man was still glaring down at his knuckles. Yosano wasn’t even sure if he knew they had come in.
“Nakahara?” She questioned.
The man in question immediately looked up at Yosano, confusion and fury melting together in his eyes. He sighed, “I- I didn’t mean to-” He clenched his fists angrily, shaking his head; However, his expression said that he didn’t regret anything one bit.
“Does it look like I give a shit about him?” Yosano rolled her eyes at Chuuya’s words. “Get over here,” She demanded, wasting no time.
As Chuuya scampered over, attempting not to anger the bossy woman, he glanced over her shoulder at Dazai and his work partner.
Ranpo was doing whatever he could to calm Dazai down without touching him at all. Dazai was staring blankly down at the coffee shop’s tiled floor, barely responding to Ranpo.
“Do something!” Yosano frantically whispered to Chuuya, now standing beside her.
Chuuya’s eyes met Yosano’s, seeming just as panicked as hers. “Fuck, like what?”
“Whatever you do whenever he gets like this!” Yosano hissed back, shooting him a frustrated look.
“Uh, um, shit. I don’t know!” Chuuya seemed to curse even more than normal when he was under pressure. “I’ve never seen him this bad,” the ginger explained.
“Fuck, I don’t even know who that guy was!” his voice got louder as he explained. “Fuck, fuck, should I know? He’s never said shit to me about that bastard!”
Yosano sighed. That figures. Dazai was never good at being emotionally vulnerable, especially when he didn’t have to be. Ranpo and Yosano had to practically strangle the information out of Dazai when he came to work with a horribly bruised cheek. No wonder he hadn’t mentioned his ex to Chuuya. Dazai must’ve thought that he had left Fyodor in the past once he had officially started dating Chuuya.
“Okay, okay. Calm down. I’ll explain everything to you, but first try to get Dazai to calm down,” Yosano ordered, her voice steady.
Chuuya nodded, making his way over to Dazai’s still slightly shaking figure.
Ranpo hesitantly backed away from Dazai, lips pursed, and allowed Chuuya to get closer. Yosano slightly smiled at him, being able to shove down his pride to make sure Dazai would be alright.
“Hey baby,” Chuuya spoke softly, his voice coming out raspier than usual. He crouched down in front of Dazai so that he’d be able to see him.
Dazai’s eyes slowly moved up to meet Chuuya’s glistening blue irises. His eyes were watery.
“Chuuya?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. What do you need?” Chuuya tilted his head questioningly.
Dazai slightly pouted. Chuuya knew that he didn’t like being asked that question. He never quite knew what exactly he needed. He needed other people to decide that for him, and Chuuya always seemed to know just what he needed.
Instead of answering, Dazai held out his hand and reached for Chuuya. His pale hands connected with Chuuya’s head, skinny, trembling fingers folding through Chuuya’s bangs since the rest of his hair was hidden by his hat.
Chuuya relaxed into the touch until the trembling faded. He regretted not punching whoever that black-haired bastard was twice.
Dazai’s hand slowly slipped down to Chuuya’s cheek, stained a light pink from anger. Chuuya gently reached up with his right hand and placed it on top of Dazai’s. He cast a smile up at him and slowly stood up, hand still holding Dazai’s.
As Chuuya rose to full height, he still had to look up at Dazai to see his eyes. They had now cleared up, not looking confused or suffocated.
Chuuya slipped his free hand into Dazai’s other palm, intertwining their fingers. Their chests pressed together and Dazai tilted his head down to bury his face into Chuuya’s comforting shoulder. Breathing in the familiar scent of his boyfriend, he spoke again, “Chuuya.”
“I’m here ‘Samu,” he whispered back. Dazai squeezed Chuuya’s hands tighter.
After a few more long-lasting minutes in their own bubble, the two of them broke apart. Chuuya sucked in a deep breath and gently removed Dazai’s mop of hair from his shoulder. Dazai was like putty in Chuuya’s gloved hands, head carelessly flopping to the side. “Look at me, babe.” Chuuya tapped twice on Dazai’s cheek, attempting to ground him with the touch. Dazai’s hazel eyes returned to Chuuya’s face, obeying the command.
“Can you tell me who that was?”
Ranpo questioningly glanced over at Yosano. He doesn’t know? Immediately understanding Ranpo’s eye language, she responded with a dramatic eye roll. Yes, he literally did not tell his boyfriend anything about his abusive ex. Ranpo responded with an incredulous look. Dumbass.
Dazai immediately broke eye contact with Chuuya, nervously looking off to the side. “Hey, hey. I’m not mad. I just wanna know, okay?” The gloved hands tilted Dazai’s head once again. Dazai looked guilty. Chuuya’s eyes narrowed.
Who the hell was that man?
From across the room, Ranpo cleared his throat. Sensing that Dazai wasn’t going to be able to easily respond, he interjected, “Ahem, mind if I explain?”
Ranpo narrowed his calculating eyes at Dazai. If you don’t tell him, I will.
Chuuya cocked his head, confused at the expressions the two were making. It was as if they had their own language configured of just facial movements. Chuuya looked back at Dazai to see him holding a pout that made his heart stutter slightly. Fuck, he would never fall out of love with the bastard. Chuuya wondered if his eyes gave away what he was thinking from the way Ranpo cast a cheeky look his way.
In just those few seconds, the tension seemed to escape from the room just a bit, making it more breathable.
“Okay then!” Ranpo clasped his hands together and motioned for everyone to sit down at a nearby coffee table.
Once the group had relocated, the mystery man still passed out left slumped over on the counter (no one had been eager to touch him), Ranpo took a deep breath.
“Hmm, where to start?” Ranpo wondered aloud, stretching his arms above his head, a carefree expression already returning to his face. Dazai uncomfortably shifted beside Chuuya. The ginger responded with a reassuring squeeze to Dazai’s hand. Their hands were clasped together under the table because Osamu had refused to let go of Chuuya. Although he would normally protest to Dazai for being so clingy, Chuuya said nothing. He never really minded anyway.
“How about you tell me who that was?” Chuuya narrowed his eyes, casting an annoyed expression toward the man wearing a hat. How many times did he have to repeat himself?
“Ah, yes. Straight to the point as always Mr. Nakahara!”
Chuuya bit his cheek. He hadn’t spent much time with Ranpo, but he was already beginning to feel his temper spike.
He is one of Dazai’s friends. Do not smack him.
Do not.
Do not.
Besides, if Dazai tolerated this man, how bad could he be?
Pretty fucking bad, his mind supplied.
Before he could think about Dazai’s questionable choices in friends, he felt pressure on his hand, slowly drawing him out of his mind. Dazai seemed to know what he had been thinking about Ranpo and gave him a look. Let him explain. Please do NOT bitch slap another person tonight.
Releasing his cheek from his teeth’s grasp, Chuuya looked back to Ranpo but said nothing.
Apparently, Ranpo got the hint and decided not to fuck with Chuuya anymore. Besides, he had been just as mad as Chuuya; however, he had better control of his emotions. Dazai’s boyfriend deserved to know what was going on.
Ranpo glanced over at the unmoving man laid none too gently on the counter before speaking. “His name’s Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai’s abusive, piece of shit ex,” he hissed out, glaring at the passed-out man.
Chuuya felt the boiling anger start to flow back into his veins. He reminded himself that he told Dazai he wasn’t angry. Not at Dazai at least.
Dazai pursed his chewed-up lips from across the table but said nothing.
Ranpo continued, “And yes, before you try and tear our heads off, we did attempt to keep him away from Dazai,” he paused before adding, “however, that was hard to do when Dazai didn’t want to stay away.” Ranpo narrowed his eyes, some of the anger from Dazai’s previous situation still apparent. He moved on, attempting not to drag Dazai too much in his current situation.
The pair simultaneously grasped each other’s hand, emotions flowing through them, unable to be spoken verbally.
“Anyway, the worst of it was before you two were introduced. They broke up around three months before you met, not to say that they weren’t still on speaking terms though,” Ranpo explained.
Suddenly Ranpo’s gaze became much more threatening than it had once been. “You informed me that you had cut off all contact with Fyodor, Dazai.” Edogawa cocked his head to the side, an ominous aura emitting from him. “Now I’ve begun questioning the validity of what you said.” An unspoken question was directed toward Dazai.
“No! No. I haven’t been in contact with him,” Dazai hastily explained. Ranpo only raised an eyebrow, not convinced. There was good reason for Ranpo’s hesitance in believing Osamu. The man had quite a reputation for lying. He had lied to Ranpo's face in this type of situation before.
“I swear. Look through my texts if you don’t believe me,” the brunette stated seriously. He was aware that Ranpo wasn’t above invading his privacy to ensure Dazai’s safety.
There was a tense moment of silence while Ranpo held Dazai’s (genuine?) stare. They both knew that Dazai was being serious about his offer. He wouldn’t offer otherwise.
Dazai’s believably genuine reaction led Ranpo to ward off his suspicions. There would always be another time to question Dazai if new evidence was acquired. The fragile emotional state of Osamu was another factor keeping Ranpo from pushing him too hard.
The self-appointed detective of Dazai’s case sighed and began to back off. “Alright. I believe you, so you better not be lying!” Edogawa’s tone came off more playful now, losing the menacing tone it once held. He gave Dazai a sincere expression, reassuring him that he truly did believe the other. The soft glint in his eyes warned of the consequences if Dazai had been lying.
A soft shiver, only noticed by Chuuya left Dazai’s body. Looking up at the taller male, Nakahara spoke, “Is there anything else of immediate importance? If not, we’re going home.” The ginger’s tone came off harsh, but it didn’t seem to offend anyone else in the room. They could all understand the poorly suppressed rage that was coursing through Chuuya’s body.
Ranpo mused to himself for a few seconds before casting a questioning glance at Yosano. “Not that I recall. Besides, we can discuss this at a later time as well. What do you think Yosano?”
Yosano took a few seconds to ponder as Ranpo had done before. “I suppose not of immediate importance,” Yosano recalled Chuuya’s words. “Just be sure to keep a close eye on him in case he tries to do anything stupid.” Her violet eyes briefly flickered down to the bandages on Dazai’s arms before returning to Chuuya’s face.
Chuuya nodded, already beginning to stand. He gingerly took Dazai’s still slightly shaky hands in his own and helped him stand. Once they were both standing Chuuya nonchalantly slid an arm around Dazai’s slim waist and held him tight, both a gesture of intimacy and a reassurance that he was in capable hands. He was steady as long as he was in Chuuya’s arms.
Chuuya’s eyes flicked back to the passed-out man lying on the counter. Yosano’s eyes followed his and she spoke, “No need to worry about him. He’s in my capable hands.” A devilish smirk appeared on the woman’s face as she clenched her gloved fists in front of her. Chuuya returned the smirk with an equally as evil smile. “Alright then. He’s all yours Miss Yosano.”
With his previous statement spoken, the pair began to make their way out of the coffee shop. The whole way back to Chuuya’s car, he supported Dazai with his strong hands.
Once they arrived at Chuuya’s shiny, black car, Nakahara opened the door with one hand and gently helped Dazai slide into the passenger seat without having to do much work himself. After shutting the door as softly as he could, Chuuya made his way to the driver’s side.
As he slid into the car, the urge to light up a cigarette developed. He shook his head immediately, not allowing the smell of smoke to be engraved in his precious baby.
Dazai’s eyes were on him. He softly smirked, seemingly knowing what Chuuya had been thinking. Osamu knew him too well. Why didn’t he seem to know anything about Dazai?
Dazai bit his lip and looked away from the other man. Chuuya began to start up the car, waiting for Dazai to collect himself. After a few seconds of looking away and not speaking, he glanced back at the ginger. “So now what?” he spoke in a soft voice, unlike his normal tone.
Chuuya shrugged, blue eyes looking back at Dazai’s pale face, slightly stained red in the cheeks and around the eyes from crying. “Now nothing.” He was met with a confused expression, the other obviously not understanding. “You don’t have to say anything,” he elaborated.
Chuuya’s lovely blue eyes left Dazai’s face and turned toward the road. Osamu found himself missing the color of the soothing blue peering at him. He watched the man’s blue eyes gaze at the road, not really paying attention to the traffic or stoplights. Bright city night lights illuminated Chuuya’s already bright eyes. Dazai was absolutely mesmerized. With that, he realized that he couldn’t lose those beautiful blue orbs. Not without a fight anyway.
“You deserve an explanation, Chuuya,” Dazai shook his head, still peering at his partner’s eyes.
“No. You don’t have to explain anything that makes you uncomfortable. I saw what that man did to you.” Chuuya bit his lip, recalling memories from earlier that night. His fists began to clench around the steering wheel, anger flowing into his body once again.
Soft, soothing hands fell over his own and the anger immediately began to dissipate. “I know. I know,” Dazai soothed. “I should’ve told you before. You were eventually going to find out, no matter how much I didn’t want you to.” Before Chuuya could intercept, Dazai continued. “I don’t want to keep any more secrets from Chuuya. I want Chuuya to see me entirely.” Dazai’s hands slid up to Chuuya’s face, and suddenly his eyes weren’t on the road anymore.
Blue eyes met brown eyes once more, and suddenly Dazai was drowning in them. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning in toward Chuuya, and well, who was Chuuya to resist? The pair's lips only met briefly, in a heart-stopping second, before Chuuya pulled away to keep his eyes on the road.
"You're going to make us crash bastard," Chuuya rolled his eyes, but he was smiling fondly as he struggled to keep his eyes on the road.
Dazai pouted, obviously wanting more, but for now he was satisfied.
Dazai was satisfied being Chuuya’s, and only his. They inseparably belonged to each other.
With Chuuya by his side, it was easy to pour out his soul.
And Dazai did.