Chapter Text
Dazai was going to die, and for once, it wasn’t his fault. That was his first thought when he heard some footsteps outside his storage container. The Mafia had finally found him and he was dead. He thought about Chuuya, who had warned him of the danger, who was probably worried out of his mind right now and Dazai could do nothing to help him. Well, he could do one thing. He gripped the handle of his gun tightly. He was not going to die here tonight.
Dazai placed his back against the door, hoping to catch whoever opens it off guard. He heard the handle turn, and he braced himself to spring at his attacker. The door opened and Dazai spun and charged forward, slamming into the other person. “Asshole! The fuck was that for?”
Dazai let his forehead fall onto Chuuya’s shoulder. “I didn’t know it was you.” Chuuya shoved him off and stood up, dusting himself off. Dazai laid on his back in the dirt and stared up at Chuuya, who’s silhouette was glowing in the moonlight. Utter relief flooded through him. Chuuya was safe.
“I can’t believe you live in this dump,” Chuuya said while walking into the storage container. Dazai stood and brushed himself off before following him in.
“It’s very suitable.” Chuuya wrinkled his nose.
“Suitable for a sea urchin maybe.” Chuuya turned to face Dazai, who felt his heart clench at the sadness in Chuuya’s eyes. “You could live somewhere better.”
Dazai shook his head. He deserved nothing better after abandoning Chuuya for seven months, and where better to hide from the Mafia than the middle of a maze of storage containers. “I’m fine here. What brings you into my neighborhood at this time?”
“I just,” Chuuya sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I needed to know you were alive. Mori-” Dazai rushed to wrap his arms around Chuuya, cutting off his sentence. Dazai tightened his arms around Chuuya.
It was always Mori. Dazai shuddered at the thought of Chuuya being confronted by Mori, over him. Chuuya wasn’t raised by Mori like Dazai was. Dazai knew that man inside and out. Chuuya didn’t. Chuuya was risking his life every day that he stepped into the Port Mafia, and every night he spent with Dazai. Dazai felt the unbearable guilt begin to eat at him again. Chuuya was risking everything for him, and Dazai was ever so selfishly letting him.
“It’s ok, Dazai. I, I threw him off your scent,” Chuuya said, face still pressed into the side of Dazai’s neck.
Dazai pulled back, holding Chuuya at arms length. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be putting you in this position. I don’t have the right to ask you to risk your life to see me. It’s not fair.”
Chuuya grabbed him by the collar and kissed him hard. “I made my choice. I chose you. If I get shot tomorrow, I want to know that I spent my last night with you.”
“How about you just don’t get shot at all? Ever think of that?”
Chuuya laughed. “That is the general idea, yeah, but if the worst happens, Dazai,” Dazai looked into Chuuya’s eyes, watching the intense sincerity, “I will know it was worth it. I don’t want to be apart from you.”
Dazai squeezed Chuuya’s upper arms. “This is a risk. You could be in danger. I don’t think I could live with myself if anything happened to you.”
Surprisingly, Chuuya laughed. “Like the two of us couldn’t take on the whole mafia and walk away.” Dazai found himself smiling at the mental image. Chuuya would have to use Corruption, of course, and that was always a marvelous sight. Imagining Chuuya tearing apart the mafia’s highrise buildings was a beautiful thought.
“I suppose you’re right.” Dazai cupped Chuuya’s cheek, and Chuuya closed his eyes, relaxing into Dazai’s touch. “Do you want to go look at the stars?”
Chuuya nodded. “You just want me to carry you.” Dazai grinned and threw himself into the air, trusting Chuuya to catch him. “Idiot! Warn me next time.” Chuuya carried Dazai bridal-style out of the storage container and walked up the side until they were able to stand on top of it. He put Dazai down gently enough.
They sat together for a while, with Chuuya resting his head against Dazai’s shoulder, and watched the boats move through the harbor and listened to the waves lapping against the shore. “You’re getting tired, chibi. You should go home and get some sleep,” Dazai said.
Chuuya opened his eyes and glared at Dazai. “I’m not tired, and I’m not leaving.”
Dazai raised an eyebrow at Chuuya. “As much as I am gratified that you enjoy my presence, you and I both know you would not be comfortable sleeping here. Go home, sleep in your own bed. I’ll still be here tomorrow, I promise.”
“Fine. But only because you insisted.” Chuuya stood up and Dazai followed. Chuuya carried Dazai back to the ground. Chuuya put a hand on the back of Dazai’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Dazai ran his hands through Chuuya’s hair, deepening the kiss. They didn’t break till they were both gasping for air. “Swear that you will see me tomorrow.”
Dazai smiled and pressed another kiss to Chuuya’s lips. “I swear, my love.” Chuuya took a deep breath and a step back. Then another, and another. Dazai did not move until Chuuya was out of sight, and even then he stood in the night air, just feeling the energy of the world around him.
Chuuya was everything to him. He cursed the part of his brain that sounded like Yosano, which reminded him that a person can not be all he is living his life for. He needed to live his life for himself. But Chuuya, there was no Dazai without Chuuya.
Chuuya was the reason that Dazai was living. He had been the one thing keeping him going through his time in the mafia. Someone he could look forward to seeing. It had made all the difference in the world, having someone who cared whether he lived or died.
Therapy had been helping Dazai a lot. Yosano helped him put his life into perspective, looking at it objectively. She was also pretty fun to hang out with that one time he went to a bar with her. Why hadn’t they done that again? Oh right.
Dazai hadn’t thought much about Kunikida. He thought about Kunikida every day, just not as much as he thought about Chuuya. Where did he go wrong? He could’ve fixed things with Kunikida. That was what his thoughts mostly revolved around, how he could fix things, how things were before he found out, before Oda died.
Where could they have been by now if things hadn’t gone to shit? They would still be friends, certainly. Maybe even close friends. Maybe more.
Dazai would never admit it out loud, but one of his worst fears was that he had sabotaged his relationship with Kunikida and would never get the opportunity to repair it. He wanted to, desperately, and he thought he deserved a second chance. And he owed it to Kunikida to try to make things right, to prove that he is not the monster Kunikida thought he was, that he can be redeemed.