[And perhaps just as worrisome is that Chuuya is quiet. Chuuya, a man who has little volume control to begin with, seems to have lost his spark. It doesn't stop him from attending to routines: exercise, chores, helping around town. He cooks meals and leaves food for Dazai, as always. He visits Kotone. He aggressively tries to be normal, in his own pathetic attempts to convince himself he hasn't fucked up everything.
But at night, he's tucking himself in on the couch, too hesitant to join Dazai in bed, struggling to sleep without his presence. He doesn't feel like he's allowed, anymore. He can't give Dazai what he needs, not truly, and it weighs on him with the heaviness of shame and guilt.
Chuuya knows this can't last. He's just afraid to be the first one to speak. Because that would likely mean an ending, and while he knows neither of them are capable of truly cutting the other out, he's pretty sure things will change irrevocably.
But what he's not expecting is for the silence to finally be ended by those two, very specific words.
It takes him a minute to find his voice, and if it cracks on the single word he gets out, then so be it.]
...Why?
[Why is Dazai sorry? Shouldn't that be Chuuya's line?]
I didn't mean to make you feel like you had to choose.
(his voice is so out of use. fyodor had been here earlier the week, attempts to make him drink water, others might have visited, but all in all, for a man incapable of shutting up, this is so unlike that.
it doesn't make him even try to clear his throat. what for?)
When Dazai says it like that, when he says please so honestly... when it's all Chuuya wants right now?
Chuuya can't not come. He's not that strong.
So he crosses the small house, making his way into the bedroom. Slips into the bed, stiff and a little uncertain but body aching with the need to be close, hands desperate to reach out.]
(everything is proving a struggle. speaking, moving, eating, wanting, feeling, so when chuuya comes into their bed, dazai's head rests against his shoulder, seeking warmth.
[Neither is Chuuya, in truth. He hasn't been sleeping, and it shows unfortunately-- the pallor of his skin, the bruises beneath his eyes. They're both capable of functioning on little to no sleep, but on Chuuya it tends to show.
Dazai sets his head against his shoulder and Chuuya... Chuuya tenses, tenses for a long moment then slumps, one arm coming up to curl around Dazai.
He isn't strong enough to resist what he wants.]
Isn't it? Nothing you said was a lie. The Mafia hurt you. Mori hurt you.
And in turn, I hurt you-- and even before that, several times. I'm just as deserving of us as you are.
(because he knows exactly what chuuya is feeling. he didn't need the bond they're sharing, but now, he feels it like it's a second skin. sometimes, it's wonderful - they're joyful, together, happy, pleasuring. in moments like this? it's horrible. not like they needed a reminder that they can never separate.)
I'm not so sure, Chuuya. I'd ruin you if I thought there was a good reason behind it.
(and both know that rings true. anything that could justify it, he'd do it, and chuuya'd still live in this embrace. a loop of vicious misbehavior they'd never break.
almost like they've embraced it, too. his hand very weakly falls on the other's waist, a small embrace.)
(they won't solve this, he doesn't think. there's nothing to be done. deep down, dazai wouldn't ever ask that of chuuya - to choose between the mafia and himself. he's been with chuuya for too long to know that there are better ways, and if he wants chuuya out of the mafia, words won't do it.
good thing he's a strategist. his lips brush agaisnt hair, he doesn't kiss - this is already taking a lot of energy after all.)
[Because this is the thing: Chuuya can't make promises about the future. He can't even promise fucking tomorrow, not here and not at home.
Doing any of this at home would be 10 layers of extra complicated, and it... sucks a lot, that that's the case. Chuuya curls a little closer, almost nuzzling into the crook of Dazai's neck.
It's entirely too easy, to slot himself up against Dazai like he's always belonged there. But does he?]
You think I'd say something so damning and then have you leave?
(two times. he didn't want to say the second one, not with how they have always put that between the lines.
he had to, though. this stupid human that breathes heavily against his chest deserves to hear it at least once. deserves it - what a word so contrasting to what chuuya is feeling.)
[The soft inhale Dazai's words provoke is quiet, but meaningful. Because it hadn't left his thoughts, not since then. But everything had made it so heavy, so complicated.
Then again, that was them all over, wasn't it?]
I dunno. You pick the absolute shittiest ways to say 'I love you', you bastard.
[If anything though, that just gets Chuuya to nuzzle harder against Dazai's chest, as if he can burrow himself there. Crawl inside, make a home beneath his ribs and never leave.]
Next time, I'll be sure to light some candles, put rose petals on the bed, make sure it's full moon.
(a small attempt at humor - they'd die laughing if either ever did that, as if there would be a third time. there's a little laugh that comes out of his nose, a poor attempt at one.
the way chuuya is holding onto him, though, strong, passionate, makes him goggle eyes in surprise. he takes a moment before his eyes close, his nose touching the other's head in gentleness.)
See, the full moon bit would just make it extra questionable. Maybe go for a different night so I'm not left wondering if you got cursed or something.
[Said with the barest hint of humor, because they both know that isn't their thing.
But that's fine, too. If Chuuya's allowed to be here-- curled up against Dazai, sharing his warmth, his breath. Touching him after days without, and Dazai might have felt Chuuya shuffle his gloves off behind him, because bare fingers brush against his hair, a soft sigh of relief escaping him.
He hasn't been removing them to sleep lately. He won't examine why that is, only focus on how right it feels to touch again.]
Maybe I'll cook unspiked dinner, wine and dine you, wear a suit? Do you want a ring?
(things that will never happen, but the absurdity makes it funny even when their energy is depleted. he doesn't even need to laugh, it's hilarious in itself.
it's easy to notice the feeling of leather being replaced - the touch is so much softer like that. the humanity in those fingertips, given to dazai so willingly, that's i love you in itself. a kiss to the other's temple should say it back.)
Exactly what kind of ring would you even be able to afford? A key ring, maybe? Or would you steal one?
[Said with a quiet snort. He's pretty sure Dazai would break out in hives at the idea of rings.
But that's fine. If Dazai's willing to let Chuuya have this, this moment, this closeness, this touch-- that's all he wants, all he needs. Fingers carding through dark hair with gentle affection, gently stroking the back of Dazai's neck, savoring the feeling of being allowed to love him in this moment, to be loved in return.]
I'll get that thing that we use to tie the bread wrapping.
(horrible.
he wishes he had energy. he wishes his body wanted to react to this as much as he does. with how chuuya was feeling, perhaps will still feel for the days to come, it'd be good if he could embrace as strongly as he wants, if he could kiss, if he could show right now - beyond the fog of his brain and the lack of strength in his body.
A twist tie? the lil wires wrapped in paper? Yeah, sounds about right.
[Who needs energy? Chuuya doesn't have any, that's for certain. He's certainly not intending to do more than touch, to soak up Dazai's presence in every little manner he's capable of right now. He's probably going to fall asleep like this, fingers tangled in Dazai's hair and face buried in his chest and that's--
Well, likely to be the best sleep he's had in days.]
If you ever couch yourself again, I'm holding you and I'm shooting you.
(affectionate. or even worse, dazai will just find a way to ruin that for him eternally.
he knows chuuya's tired, too. he may not have been looking at him so much lately, but he knows - dazai's the opposite. sleeping too much unfulfilling slumbers, waking up more drained than before he had closed his eyes.
Then I'd have to strangle you, and that'd make it a double suicide. You wouldn't want that, would you?
[Said with some amusement, but there's a haziness in his voice that says he's certainly not going to be awake much longer. A drowsiness in his kisses, too-- soft, barely there things, feather light and contented, lingering. He's probably going to fall asleep like this.]
Y'know... I don't think... I've ever slept as well as when I'm with you.
I'll have to take him out too, then. None of you are escaping me.
[It's a sleepy mumble against the curve of Dazai's neck, with all that aggressive greed Chuuya can get about His People, all the while Chuuya's eyes slipping closed as he speaks.]
Ain't your ability that's the soothing bit, moron. Fallin' asleep to you... waking up to you. S'nice. Haven't really slept for days.
[And isn't that incredibly damning in itself? That after months of this, he can't seem to sleep without Dazai.
Mori would kill them both, probably. It's not something he wants to think about.] I'm kickin' your butt into a shower tomorrow, though.
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But at night, he's tucking himself in on the couch, too hesitant to join Dazai in bed, struggling to sleep without his presence. He doesn't feel like he's allowed, anymore. He can't give Dazai what he needs, not truly, and it weighs on him with the heaviness of shame and guilt.
Chuuya knows this can't last. He's just afraid to be the first one to speak. Because that would likely mean an ending, and while he knows neither of them are capable of truly cutting the other out, he's pretty sure things will change irrevocably.
But what he's not expecting is for the silence to finally be ended by those two, very specific words.
It takes him a minute to find his voice, and if it cracks on the single word he gets out, then so be it.]
...Why?
[Why is Dazai sorry? Shouldn't that be Chuuya's line?]
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(his voice is so out of use. fyodor had been here earlier the week, attempts to make him drink water, others might have visited, but all in all, for a man incapable of shutting up, this is so unlike that.
it doesn't make him even try to clear his throat. what for?)
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Why isn't it?]
...But don't I?
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(he doesn't want to have this conversation from the other side of their fucking house.)
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When Dazai says it like that, when he says please so honestly... when it's all Chuuya wants right now?
Chuuya can't not come. He's not that strong.
So he crosses the small house, making his way into the bedroom. Slips into the bed, stiff and a little uncertain but body aching with the need to be close, hands desperate to reach out.]
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he's not used to sleeping alone anymore.)
It's not fair to ask that of you.
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Dazai sets his head against his shoulder and Chuuya... Chuuya tenses, tenses for a long moment then slumps, one arm coming up to curl around Dazai.
He isn't strong enough to resist what he wants.]
Isn't it? Nothing you said was a lie. The Mafia hurt you. Mori hurt you.
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(because he knows exactly what chuuya is feeling. he didn't need the bond they're sharing, but now, he feels it like it's a second skin. sometimes, it's wonderful - they're joyful, together, happy, pleasuring. in moments like this? it's horrible. not like they needed a reminder that they can never separate.)
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It's not the same though. I told you, didn't I? You've changed. I haven't.
[For all Dazai might quip about how human Chuuya was, it was Chuuya who fit into the Mafia to this day, as natural as breathing.]
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(and both know that rings true. anything that could justify it, he'd do it, and chuuya'd still live in this embrace. a loop of vicious misbehavior they'd never break.
almost like they've embraced it, too. his hand very weakly falls on the other's waist, a small embrace.)
I'm exhausted.
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[Chuuya tucks himself a little bit closer, settling his forehead against Dazai's chest. Listening to his breath, his heartbeat.
It was like a balm on his soul. He isn't quite sure he deserves it.]
...So'm I. Haven't slept in days.
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(they won't solve this, he doesn't think. there's nothing to be done. deep down, dazai wouldn't ever ask that of chuuya - to choose between the mafia and himself. he's been with chuuya for too long to know that there are better ways, and if he wants chuuya out of the mafia, words won't do it.
good thing he's a strategist. his lips brush agaisnt hair, he doesn't kiss - this is already taking a lot of energy after all.)
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[Because this is the thing: Chuuya can't make promises about the future. He can't even promise fucking tomorrow, not here and not at home.
Doing any of this at home would be 10 layers of extra complicated, and it... sucks a lot, that that's the case. Chuuya curls a little closer, almost nuzzling into the crook of Dazai's neck.
It's entirely too easy, to slot himself up against Dazai like he's always belonged there. But does he?]
...I didn't think you'd want me here.
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(two times. he didn't want to say the second one, not with how they have always put that between the lines.
he had to, though. this stupid human that breathes heavily against his chest deserves to hear it at least once. deserves it - what a word so contrasting to what chuuya is feeling.)
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Then again, that was them all over, wasn't it?]
I dunno. You pick the absolute shittiest ways to say 'I love you', you bastard.
[If anything though, that just gets Chuuya to nuzzle harder against Dazai's chest, as if he can burrow himself there. Crawl inside, make a home beneath his ribs and never leave.]
Sucks for you that I love you too.
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(a small attempt at humor - they'd die laughing if either ever did that, as if there would be a third time. there's a little laugh that comes out of his nose, a poor attempt at one.
the way chuuya is holding onto him, though, strong, passionate, makes him goggle eyes in surprise. he takes a moment before his eyes close, his nose touching the other's head in gentleness.)
I know.
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[Said with the barest hint of humor, because they both know that isn't their thing.
But that's fine, too. If Chuuya's allowed to be here-- curled up against Dazai, sharing his warmth, his breath. Touching him after days without, and Dazai might have felt Chuuya shuffle his gloves off behind him, because bare fingers brush against his hair, a soft sigh of relief escaping him.
He hasn't been removing them to sleep lately. He won't examine why that is, only focus on how right it feels to touch again.]
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(things that will never happen, but the absurdity makes it funny even when their energy is depleted. he doesn't even need to laugh, it's hilarious in itself.
it's easy to notice the feeling of leather being replaced - the touch is so much softer like that. the humanity in those fingertips, given to dazai so willingly, that's i love you in itself. a kiss to the other's temple should say it back.)
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[Said with a quiet snort. He's pretty sure Dazai would break out in hives at the idea of rings.
But that's fine. If Dazai's willing to let Chuuya have this, this moment, this closeness, this touch-- that's all he wants, all he needs. Fingers carding through dark hair with gentle affection, gently stroking the back of Dazai's neck, savoring the feeling of being allowed to love him in this moment, to be loved in return.]
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(horrible.
he wishes he had energy. he wishes his body wanted to react to this as much as he does. with how chuuya was feeling, perhaps will still feel for the days to come, it'd be good if he could embrace as strongly as he wants, if he could kiss, if he could show right now - beyond the fog of his brain and the lack of strength in his body.
they'll have time.)
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[Who needs energy? Chuuya doesn't have any, that's for certain. He's certainly not intending to do more than touch, to soak up Dazai's presence in every little manner he's capable of right now. He's probably going to fall asleep like this, fingers tangled in Dazai's hair and face buried in his chest and that's--
Well, likely to be the best sleep he's had in days.]
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(affectionate. or even worse, dazai will just find a way to ruin that for him eternally.
he knows chuuya's tired, too. he may not have been looking at him so much lately, but he knows - dazai's the opposite. sleeping too much unfulfilling slumbers, waking up more drained than before he had closed his eyes.
a series of kisses, one that ends on the lips.)
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[Said with some amusement, but there's a haziness in his voice that says he's certainly not going to be awake much longer. A drowsiness in his kisses, too-- soft, barely there things, feather light and contented, lingering. He's probably going to fall asleep like this.]
Y'know... I don't think... I've ever slept as well as when I'm with you.
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(which, honestly, would be something funny to watch, and it finally gets a full laugh out of him.)
Is it 'No Longer Human' that soothing?
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[It's a sleepy mumble against the curve of Dazai's neck, with all that aggressive greed Chuuya can get about His People, all the while Chuuya's eyes slipping closed as he speaks.]
Ain't your ability that's the soothing bit, moron. Fallin' asleep to you... waking up to you. S'nice. Haven't really slept for days.
[And isn't that incredibly damning in itself? That after months of this, he can't seem to sleep without Dazai.
Mori would kill them both, probably. It's not something he wants to think about.] I'm kickin' your butt into a shower tomorrow, though.
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