Work Text:
Dazai found himself standing outside Chuuya's apartment, but as he tried to raise his hand to knock he wasn't able to. His relationship with Chuuya wasn't exactly on steady ground.
He stared at the door, taking a deep steadying breath to ready himself. He managed to raise his arm this time, but he couldn't knock. What would he say if Chuuya answered? How would he explain?
He released the breath he had been holding and slumped. He couldn't do it.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, mackerel?"
Dazai jumped, turning to face the familiar voice that had caught him red-handed.
"Oh! It's the chibi! Is this your apartment?" Dazai asked.
"Quit fucking around, you've been here before," Chuuya snapped.
"Have I? I don't recall."
He shouldered past Dazai and pulled out his keys.
Dazai started turning away as Chuuya unlocked the door.
"You coming in, dumbass?"
Dazai froze, his mind cartwheeling as he tried to determine his next step. He doesn't have a good excuse for coming or for suddenly leaving.
Chuuya grabs Dazai by the back of his coat collar and drags him inside.
"You haven't come over since you left the mafia," Chuuya stated, taking off his jacket in the entryway.
Dazai left his coat on, he didn't want to get comfortable here. He hid his hands in his pockets.
"Well, Chuuya never invited me," Dazai attempted to joke, but his voice fell flat, his grin didn't quite turn out right.
Chuuya examined Dazai's expression. He was always like that, more serious and understanding than he would lead most to believe. He had always been good at seeing right through Dazai.
"Like you need my invitation," Chuuya eventually snapped back.
He led the way to the kitchen, not waiting for Dazai to follow.
"Do you want a drink?" Chuuya asked as Dazai entered the kitchen.
Chuuya was looking through his liquor cabinet. He always kept some spirits, but Dazai had never seen him drink anything but red wine.
"No thanks," Dazai said.
Chuuya shrugged and pulled out some wine for himself. He calmly poured a glass, keeping his back to Dazai. He was probably deciding on what his next move was going to be. He took a long sip from his wine glass. Dazai felt a little dizzy, but he didn't want Chuuya to notice.
"Dazai, why did you come back here?" He asked, back still turned.
Dazai still had not figured out a good answer to this question. He didn't really have a good answer.
"Maybe I missed Chuuya," Dazai attempted.
"Not enough to take me with you though. You left so long ago and you come back now. I had stopped waiting."
Another long sip of wine.
"I didn't think I could come back to you after leaving like that. I didn't deserve it"
"But maybe I deserved it!" Chuuya finally turned to Dazai and his expression was heartbroken. "Maybe I deserved for you to come back to me, for you to-I don't know-apologize or explain things or something!"
Dazai looked away. His hands shook in his pockets. He wanted to die right here on the spot.
Chuuya took a deep breath. He didn't want to yell at Dazai.
"I missed you."
Dazai still couldn't face Chuuya. He never should have come tonight. He should have stayed home and continued to contemplate the best way to commit suicide. He should have just commited suicide instead of coming here.
"Say something!" Chuuya yelled.
"Sorry," Dazai whispered.
Chuuya snorted. "That's just like you."
Dazai finally had to slump against the nearest wall as the dizziness overtook him.
"I tried to come back so many times, but I thought that I burnt that bridge. I thought I had finally ruined whatever sort of relationship we had, so why rub salt in the wound? But I came because I wanted to see you so bad," Dazai said. The words were spilling out of him I'm a torrent, no longer held back by his filters.
"Hey, are you drunk or something?" Chuuya asked, approaching.
Dazai tried to look more casual about using the wall to keep him upright.
"Haha, yeah, it's been a while since I've drunk this much, I guess my tolerance went down," he lied.
"You look a bit pale," Chuuya said thoughtfully.
"Look. I'll go. I shouldn't have come," Dazai said.
"When did I tell you that you shouldn't have come?" Chuuya snapped.
"You...don't want me to leave?" Dazai asked, surprised. "After all that?"
"If you leave now you might never come back. I want you to come back," Chuuya said honestly.
Chuuya looked like Dazai had torn out his heart and was about to give it back to him. It was such a pure and sweet expression that it didn't belong on that face. It was too beautiful for Dazai. He didn't want to tell Chuuya that he could never come back.
"We belong to enemy groups remember?"
"So what?"
"The mafia will kill both of us if they found out."
"Then we get to die together, isn't that a dream of yours-to die with someone?"
"Normally in my dreams it's a beautiful woman and we are falling blissfully asleep for the last time."
"What's the fun in that?"
The dizziness was taking over. He found horrifyingly that he was slipping down the wall. His legs were numb and could no longer hold him up.
"Dazai?"
"Sorry Chuuya, I didn't really think you'd let me in," Dazai said, smiling a bit.
Chuuya was on his knees beside him, he was frantic, but had no idea what to do. He felt Dazai's throat for a pulse. Dazai had a good idea what he felt there.
"Dazai?! What did you do? Is it a drug? A poison? Dazai?!" Chuuya cried in panic.
"It's fine, I took the pills for the river, I'll wake back up in a bit," Dazai said, pretty sure the words came out semi-coherently.
"Shit shit. Dazai! What the fuck." Was all Chuuya managed.
His vision was swimming with black. He felt warm knowing Chuuya was right there with him.
"Osamu..." was the last thing he heard before he passed out completely.
---
When Dazai woke up again he noticed he was on a soft bed. Normally when he woke up after a suicide attempt it was in an alley, or on the shore of the river, or his bathroom floor. No one ever thought to take him somewhere comfortable to sleep off his attempt.
The second thing he noticed was Chuuya who was sitting on a chair with his head propped in an uncomfortable manner on the bed as he slept.
Chuuya looked much younger in his sleep. It was like the years in the mafia and in the slums no longer mattered. He looked kind and content. Nothing like the normal scowl Chuuya saved just for him.
Lastly, Dazai noticed that his arms were no longer wrapped in bandages. Instead there was gauze on the most recent scars that he'd given himself--to help the river and sleeping pills finish their job of course. The various old scars were visible, and he hated it. It was a reminder of his past, a reminder of Mori, a reminder of his time in the mafia, a reminder of the time before he had Chuuya. He could still remember the cause of every scar, the reasons behind every one. The time he failed an important mission and Mori cut him open just to stitch him back up. The time he was pinned in an alley by a group of men who burnt him with cigarettes and lighters until they got bored. The time he just wanted to feel like he was in control of the pain and picked up a razor to add to the scars.
He must have shifted slightly because Chuuya's head shot up.
"Dazai!" He exclaimed before calming his expression back to something more normal. "What the fuck were you thinking?"
Dazai tucked his arms away under the duvet as he sat up.
"That Chuuya would never let me in or say anything nice," Dazai said.
"Dumbass. How can you be so smart and so stupid at the same time?"
"I don't understand what Chuuya is thinking most of the time. Especially because I would deserve it if Chuuya kicked me out."
The shorter man was looking at Dazai so intensely that it scared him. Chuuya wasn't serious like this very often.
Chuuya dropped Dazai's bandages on the bed. He had been holding them this whole time.
"I would have wrapped you up again, but I thought you should know that I saw," Chuuya said. "I thought we should try together to be more transparent."
Dazai kept his arms hidden still. He wasn't sure he could face looking at them.
"They aren't all self inflicted," Dazai said. Very few people knew about his scars. "After a while I started liking it."
He expected Chuuya to be disgusted by this confession. He'd never told anyone about himself, but Chuuya was the one person who he would bear his soul to. If he finally kicked Dazai to the curb then at least he was expecting it.
"Who? Who hurt you?" Chuuya asked in a terrifyingly calm voice, his eyes were ignited with fire.
"It doesn't matter. It's not like I let them do it anymore," Dazai said. He felt like that was at least when partial truth. Whenever he was hurting himself it was like they were there with him, egging him on.
Chuuya opened his mouth to argue back, but Dazai reached out and took his arm.
"Drop it, Chuuya," Dazai pleaded.
The anger in Chuuya's eyes died out and his shoulders relaxed.
Dazai let go of Chuuya and started wrapping his arms with bandages. He finished quickly, the action so familiar to him that he could do it in his sleep. He didn't let his eyes linger on any of the scars, he didn't want the reminder that his body would be ruined for the rest of his life.
"What do we do now?" Chuuya asked quietly. "Are you going to leave?"
Dazai looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was now four AM.
"I have a couple more hours before I have to make an appearance at the agency," Dazai said thoughtfully.
"You have any plans after work?" Chuuya asked.
"I think I can fit Chuuya into my busy schedule," Dazai teased.
"You'd better," he growled in response.
Dazai shifted over in the bed, opening the blanket in offering to Chuuya.
Chuuya hesitantly joined Dazai in the bed.
"I'm sorry for taking so long to come back," Dazai said.
Their relationship was rocky and unknown, so for now they lay apart, both men unsure about the next step.
Chuuya took Dazai's hand carefully. And the other man didn't move away.
"Just stay this time."