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 I'LL BE YOUR LIGHT, YOUR MATCH, YOUR BURNING SUN., FT. CHUUYA / DAE
What should one do, when what they want to be isn’t what they’re best at? Everyone fights, searching for the correct way to live their lives. What do they seek by fighting? How ought they live? No one can say. All we have is the right to waver. Like stray dogs that have hit rock bottom.
154
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
DAZAI
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
PIE (SHE / HER)
HE / HIM
TRIGGER WARNING! this thread's content will be/is touching upon suicide attempt, physical abuse, existential crisis, and possibly other triggery stuff, so proceed reading with caution, kids!

I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
it began with a simple hunch.
(regardless of where you went, your heart always found a way back to him.)

barrows wasn‘t his kind of place. it reeked of death and blood, and brought back memories that left him shattered, dead. it was dangerous, it was chaotic; it was ruthless and merciless. there were no laws that ruled here, and people lived however they wanted to live without any restrictions. (heh, how the hell did it even work? he was pretty sure this place should‘ve collapsed and burned long time ago, but, for some reason, it did not. strange world was this multiverse, an utopia of sorts if he dared to take a wild guess.) it almost felt like port mafia developed in an enormous country without a ruler. mori would sure love it here... though it might be better if he never appeared. dazai‘s logical side wished he would. then, perhaps, things could somehow fall in order in this lawless place.

he tried to keep away from it, if only it was for his for his sanity‘s sake. he realized just how easily he could slip right back into the world of darkness without his... ah... what were they anyway? even after all this time, this young man still had trouble calling everyone from armed detective agency his friends. anyways. they weren‘t here to stop him from doing something stupid (not that they ever would), no big deal. he just had to keep himself busy somewhere else. (but it was a big deal. bigger than he wanted it to be, bigger than he would ever admit it was. he missed them dearly; he missed driving them nuts. who knew he could be this lonely without people by his side. he would usually keep away from them, stay away from them.. but... agh. he was contradicting himself, just as always. maybe it would be better to shut his mind down.)

oda‘s words were the ones that kept on giving him strength to go on. they still lingered in the depths of his soul and kept on embracing his heart, reminding him, empowering him, while also weighing him down. ‘become a good man.‘ yeah... he was trying to be one; would keep on doing so until he met his end. (which was.. hopefully soon anyways!!) if for nobody else, he had to resist for him. agh, what was he even thinking, trying to impress somebody who was already dead?

and yet still he was here, inside this mess of a dimension. why did he find himself spending days roaming its streets more frequently than anywhere else? why was he here when he was so desperately trying to run away? why was he so drawn to it, despite hating every single corner of it? was he truly trying to make it a hundred times harder on himself? (maybe it was because its mess reminded him of he mess he was himself.) for now he was standing still atop of the roof of one of the many silent houses in this tiny neighborhood not too far away from the main town. the sun was setting down, coloring the sky in many shades of red. there was this constant slight trace of light breeze, neither warm or cold, playing with his hair and making his trench coat wave around the air. this was nice, along with a breathtaking sight before him that reflected in his eyes. he caught a family coming home; by that time, he had to look away. even barrows could be beautiful at this time of the day.

after a little while he took a step further, about to waddle away as his usual, carefree self. however, as soon as he was about a few meters away from his original spot, he heard something crack below his feet. whoopsie. this wasn‘t planned out. (or was it?) did he just accidentally step on a loose brick? now... now that probably meant that he was about to lose his balance and fall. somewhere. whoknowswhere. oh well, he went with it anyways and enjoyed the short flight down. and hey, maybe it was far enough for him to finally die and leave this world far behind!

@NAKAHARA CHUUYA | ✎ <33333. HI.
o, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again. o expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave, leave this body of mine! i enjoy nothing anymore but my wretched dreams.
136
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
HUMAN
ELITE TASK FORCE
DAE (HE / THEY)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
without a decade of connections with the local gang here - of which there was not one but several, with constant quarrels and shifting power plays - chuuya had to play his cards very carefully. he was going to spend a while analysing the environment, even if it took a year or two, while building up his connections and saving up some money. he couldn't just walk in and demand to join the mob currently with the widest influence... well, he could, but if his mentors had taught him one thing, it was to be patient and cautious. he only had one life. if he fucked up, then that was the end, he'd be dead. to tell the truth, it was a bit of a relief to stay away from that lifestyle for a bit. without his family being around, he had less inclination to go and join a foreign mob.

his new apartment wasn't grand, but it wasn't shitty, either. he'd found the best possible place for what he could afford. it lay somewhere between the border of the parker and starr districts, close to intersections and wide open spaces that made it less likely for trouble to pop up (in daylight, at least). the security was good, and the neighbours also hadn't driven him insane yet, which for two days in, was a good sign. (oh, if only he knew that would change tonight.) the view from the balcony was really nice as well, offering a wide sight all the way to the sparkling horizon. tonight's sunset looked particularly promising; maybe he'd step outside for a cigarette in a few. pity he didn't have any wine to crack open yet.

the interior was... depressingly empty so far. the reason he'd got a decent deal on it was because the previous inhabitants had damaged some of the furniture and stolen many of the sundries. (there may also have been more violent crime that he wasn't told about, given some of the bloodstains, but... he didn't really care.) there were... a couple of towels? a working fridge? an old but surprisingly comfy couch. an empty vase. honestly, chuuya didn't need much. he had dreams of decorating it with some nice curtains and paintings and fluffy carpets; he wasn't always a very material person, but being surrounded by beauty improved one's quality of life. to him, that came as tasteful clothing and furnishings - but only within his budget, the most recent of which he'd spent on some nice soft pyjamas. had to get his beauty sleep.

as he popped into the bathroom to unclip his choker and brush out his hair, he heard someone unfamiliar moving down the hall. (almost felt, through their weight and core presence, like they were dancing.) and it sounded like they were near his front door. look, he might be a bit rough and careless sometimes, but when he gave his refined senses breathing space, they served him well. chuuya waited, listening intently, and it faded off. eh, he'd check outside later. he shuffled back into the main area, wondering what to have for dinner, and had just flopped down on the couch with his phone when new vibrations caught his attention - this time from the direction of the ceiling.

what the fuck? ... well, often unsavoury sorts would travel by the roofs of adjoining apartments rather than the ground, particularly if they were dexterous, but it wasn't dark yet. maybe there were rats in the ceiling space...? then there was a crash, and chuuya leapt out of his seat in a flash, wrenching open the balcony doors and ready to fight. un-neighbourly welcomes!! they'd dropped a dead body for him! rolled right off the roof! or perhaps dropped out of the sky?

he stomped over and kicked the 'corpse' hard in the side. "die." another kick, this time in the shoulder (he should have gone lower though, broken his dick so he could never pleasure himself again -- since he'd never get any with a real person anyway, hah!). "die." a charming third kick to the head, incredibly harsh but - by his standards - half-hearted. "are you dead yet?"

for the sake of his sanity, chuuya ignored the impossible odds of this happening. nothing could ever be ruled out when it came to this trenchcoat-wearing freak with a death wish. he should have guessed it would be him. that his peaceful evening would be ruined by dazai literally just dropping in on him. sadly, the hopes of him having died from the fall were also impossible; although he'd crashed down over a dozen feet, chuuya knew he wouldn't even have a bruise, let alone fractures. arhgh! he should slit his throat and be done with it! he had no alcohol, no food, hadn't smoked yet, and now he had this adult-sized infant to deal with. could someone please put him out of his misery?

@DAZAI OSAMU | ✎ worst unexpected visitor ever
What should one do, when what they want to be isn’t what they’re best at? Everyone fights, searching for the correct way to live their lives. What do they seek by fighting? How ought they live? No one can say. All we have is the right to waver. Like stray dogs that have hit rock bottom.
154
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
DAZAI
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
PIE (SHE / HER)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
this whole thing sadly wasn‘t much of a fall in the end - he wasn't even able to count to three before his body hit the cold, unfamiliar ground. ouch ouch ouch. wellp, there went another failed attempt. how disappointing; how extremely saddening was that? next time he tried something like this, though, he would first have to ensure there was a river or something soft below the house. that would surely spare him some pain in case he failed again. (and rivers were nice. and pretty.) of course the thought of finally ending his own life was intriguing, always, but god should be damned and a person should be punched (or glared at, if he wanted to be nice) if they said he enjoyed getting hurt. nope. just nope. please, one should feel free to go ahead and take that as far away from him as possible.

anyways. back to the ground thing. this wasn‘t just any ground. it also definitely wasn‘t the street ground because he remembered its pattern from before. so, the (random) balcony ground then? interesting. still laying down and not moving around, dazai sighed to himself. why was commiting suicide so hard to achieve? one might think that, for a second, he genuinely forgot the word 'balcony' even existed. bleeeeeh. aghhhhhh. this was not exciting anymore. and it was about to get worse.

he should‘ve honestly expected it to get worse.

the second the doors opened with a loud bang, dazai knew he was in trouble. a lighthearted 'ooops' formed on his lips, but he made no sound; didn‘t even look up to check on who he'd dropped on. (plus, for some reason, he had an odd feeling he already knew who it was.) the first kick gave away the man‘s identity (bleh. he was right. again. why, out of all things, he could never be wrong about this one?), and the second one made him shrink in a sudden wave of pain (god, this was getting annoying before he even began to talk. the second dazai thought of that, though, chuuya said die. yep. definitely annoying). the third one was gentle compared to first two, but hey, it still hurt. „i‘m trying to, chuuya.” he whined out, stretching his limbs before turning his head around to look up and meet the gaze of his ex-partner, ex-lover, ex-everything. (and yet still, despite the 'ex' parts, dazai could never forget about chuuya no matter how hard he tried or how uninterested he acted.) he pouted. „but man, you‘re so loud.”

@NAKAHARA CHUUYA | ✎ pls he's the best kind of visitor ok.
o, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again. o expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave, leave this body of mine! i enjoy nothing anymore but my wretched dreams.
136
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
HUMAN
ELITE TASK FORCE
DAE (HE / THEY)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
chuuya went from i-will-repeatedly-kick-you irked, to too-stunned-to-continue livid, in about... one tenth of a second. "HUH??" what was that, you freak?? oh that's right, total fucking bullshit! "what's the noise level even got to do with it. you call this pathetic attempt at falling 'trying'?? how about climb to the tallest block over thataways and jump off it properly?" how about he go and get his gun and shoot this miserable craven between the eyes? he was vulnerable, he was laying here like a wuss, and yet... they both knew the answer. they both knew chuuya wouldn't kill him, even given the opportunity, nor assist him in any way. giving him the help to die would be doing him a favour, and like hell was he gonna willingly to that. he'd rather see him suffer. every inch of him, for every second of every day. (they both already did, didn't they?)

"you're here just to piss me off, and i know it. how did you even get my address anyway." he was going to go on like this forever if he didn't rein himself in. time to make dazai suffer some, and ensure he didn't leap away skipping and giggling into the sunset. stretching his thighs and pointing his toes until his pelvis and foot bones gave satisfying cracks, he proceeded to drop down with all his natural weight, right onto dazai's chest. itching hands, rather than going over to do something like break dazai's jaw or close off his airway, dug into his shirt pocket for his cigarette packet and lighter, drawing out one of the high-quality cylinders with his lips and quickly igniting the tip. he wasn't a chain smoker or anything, but at least a couple a day were pleasant when he was bored or stressed. (meaning that, right now, he might have about ten before the night was over. because dazai was both incredibly annoying and incredibly boring. seriously, what a pathetic excuse for a person.)

making an effort not to hold the cigarette daintily - for some reason he was especially conscious about his masculinity around dazai - he pretended to ignore the man for a while, focusing on the flavour dancing over his tongue and on the deepening reds of the sky, streaked with clouds and the faint haze of the day's pollution. he might as well be sitting on a comfortable chair -- except dazai was a bit too bony for his tastes. pretending to compliment on him on being such a wonderful cushion would come up as cheesy, but insulting him for being such a literal pain in the butt would earn him nothing, except perhaps smugness. also, his precious breath should be spent on taking in nicotine, not talking to a dead guy. best to say nothing and see how long dazai could last like this without whining.

chuuya leaned over slightly and blew a stream of smoke into dazai's face. then, he started to increase his core mass... more, and more, and more. soon, dazai should be in great pain from being crushed -- it would be like being trapped under a couple of hundred kilograms, concentrated on his torso. the redhead would go further, except the balcony wouldn't hold the weight (and they'd both fall to their deaths). he smirked and flicked the first clump of ashes into dazai's face as well. maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

@DAZAI OSAMU | ✎ crushing fetish
What should one do, when what they want to be isn’t what they’re best at? Everyone fights, searching for the correct way to live their lives. What do they seek by fighting? How ought they live? No one can say. All we have is the right to waver. Like stray dogs that have hit rock bottom.
154
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
DAZAI
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
PIE (SHE / HER)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
oh yay, there it was! that sweet, annoyed tone in the other‘s voice that always, always kept him entertained. and let‘s just not talk about the cute face he made whenever dazai managed to piss him off. (which was about ninety-nine percent of the time when they were together. oops.) the taller man grinned, celebrating his short lasting victory. he knew it was likely going to flare up another angry fit but hey, he couldn’t really help himself. chuuya‘s reactions were priceless; better than any comedy that ever existed. and... well... they made him happy even though he was a complete mess, a sad excuse for a human being, an empty hole with no reason to live. which was, perhaps, partly the reason why he always ran back to him, asking for more. (in the end chuuya truly felt like a drug, did he not? in his presence, dazai could drown himself in amusement for a short while and forget the world... while in his absence, the weight of the world came crushing down on him. the longer they went on, the worse it got.)

his eyes sparkled upon catching the oh-so-brilliant idea that came out of chuuya‘s mouth. true, true! this was actually beautiful! how did he not think of it earlier?! „chuuyaaaaa. i never knew you were so nice! his lips spread in a wide, cheerful smile. (man, could he be any quicker with his mood swings?) „i‘m going to find that place tomorrow and ask the owner to let me get to the top!” this was great!!! he knew he could count on his partner when it came to stuff like this!!! er. okay. um. a correction here. ex-partner. he shrugged at the note of the address, „i didn't.” he did, however, consider the possibility of chuuya living here. after all the doors of this apartment were particularly bea-- er, repulsive. yeah. „and, just for your record, i didn‘t come to piss you off.”

he came because he was lonely, because he missed him, and because he needed him. but, of course, there was no damn way he would ever admit these things out loud. not now, not ever, but it was there. perhaps he would mention it if they were, somehow, still caught in their pasts. they were not, though, at least he liked to believe they were not.

... or were they?

when the shorter male flopped down on him, dazai rolled his eyes, silently regretting the fact he didn‘t get up sooner. now he, sadly, had to deal with a tiny-midget-who-was-able-to-manipulate-gravity sitting on his chest. well, least he could do is to play along, eh? he breathed out a helpless oh, mainly for the sake of their entertainment, but also to imply that hey, this did kind of hurt. when was the last time this guy sat on him like this? he could recall it happening some time in their past... but not exactly when. oh, well.

as the minutes ticked by, he became progressively more serious - whether it was because of his general discomfort (having someone sitting on you wasn‘t exactly a pleasant thing), or because of how beautiful the sight before his eyes was, he didn‘t know. „chuuya,” he called out the other‘s name, trying to avert his attention from the sunset to him. his hands acted on their own - while one of them drifted up and around chuuya‘s leg, the other rested itself on his back. then, his eyes narrowed. „you really should stop smoking. it‘s bad.”

the pressure came sooner dazai expected it to come, drawing a small but particularly dark smile on his face. he closed his eyes. siiigh. this was getting a tad dangerous now. slightly too much pressure applied, and they‘d both be falling down. (and no way in hell he was doing a double suicide with chuuya.) besides, it wasn‘t exactly comfortable to breathe like this; it got even worse when the first trace of ashes fell on his face (nose). the ticking sensation made him sneeze. (whooops.) he grimaced, „you know, you‘re actually quite heavy for your size. did you gain some weight?”

@NAKAHARA CHUUYA | ✎ chuuya pls.
o, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again. o expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave, leave this body of mine! i enjoy nothing anymore but my wretched dreams.
136
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
HUMAN
ELITE TASK FORCE
DAE (HE / THEY)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
should... should he break the bad news to him? nakahara chuuya was not nice. in fact, the high-rise he'd recommended to him? it belonged to one of the most powerful gangs in town. so, good luck getting to the top, dazai. (though, knowing the guy's skill, he'd manage it pretty easily. something else would probably impede him instead. seriously, dazai had the best luck at the worst times, and the worst luck at the best.)

he really didn't believe dazai over this... well, part of it. the more unrealistic side - that he didn't know his address - was the one that didn't bother chuuya so much. not being here to piss him off, however? he knew that dazai loved to tease, aggravate and spite him, and that it gave dazai the will to continue living sometimes. the feeling was mutual as well, but... to tell the truth, chuuya didn't get a rush from hurting and trying to one-up this vagrant like he used to. it was kind of... pointless? dazai always managed to win anyway, and the times they came up with a stalemate, chuuya was left dissatisfied and frustrated. (even if he won, it'd feel no different.)

such was life in general. a collection of meaningless daily rituals for him scraped together. eat, drink, work, kill, smoke, sleep, repeat. no better than a wild animal living on instinct with no understanding for its place in the universe. in fact, there was none anyway. how lovely would it be to cease to exist? to be where there was nothing, to reside inside infinity? because he was concentrating on generating immense weight, as well as on the sensation of smoking and seeing the rich sky outwards, he didn't really notice that dazai's hands now held him. (also, he was making an effort to ignore him regardless, treat him as little more than something to sit on.)

he clicked his tongue around his cigarette. telling a smoker that their habit was bad was the number one stupidest and most redundant thing he could think of right now. kinda like saying that water was wet or that ... that people died when they were killed! what was the difference between dying slowly and quickly, anyway? he could do whatever he wanted with this body for as long as it drew breath; and if he got too sick, he would consider ending himself (he mocked dazai for it, but there was a certain dignity in having strength enough for suicide, to remove your own stain from the earth).

he'd spaced out then, embers trailing into the breeze, until that sneeze snapped him out of it (was it only seconds later, or minutes? man, cigarettes didn't last long enough). "hey..! i'm not falling for that one," chuuya growled. (he almost did, though. seriously, he wasn't fat.) what it meant was that the charade was up; dazai whined a surprisingly minimal amount, given the amount of pain he must be in. chuuya cut off his gravitational force and leaned over slightly, stretching out his arm to tap more ashes over the edge of the balcony. the rest that had fallen onto the floor, he'd sweep them away later.

then he sat back down, using dazai's chest as a pillow now, laying back softly. the way he sprawled, they rested perpendicular with one another. well, this had got boring. was dazai particularly depressed today, to let his senses lead him here, of all places? chuuya himself... well, he was pretty depressed. adjusting to an entirely different world was difficult. he couldn't go with the flow, jumping off buildings and floating down rivers, but he knew that didn't make it any easier for dazai, either.

"is there anything you want?" he muttered. "i can pick you up and toss you over the edge to finish the job." (he wouldn't, though. even if dazai said yes. he'd pick him up and throw him indoors and grumble at him.) "if not, when i finish this up i'm going back inside. i don't got any alcohol to serve you, though, only moved in this week."

@DAZAI OSAMU | ✎ depression didn't take long to take over
What should one do, when what they want to be isn’t what they’re best at? Everyone fights, searching for the correct way to live their lives. What do they seek by fighting? How ought they live? No one can say. All we have is the right to waver. Like stray dogs that have hit rock bottom.
154
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
DAZAI
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
PIE (SHE / HER)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
he had the upper hand; could‘ve won whenever he wished to. the second he decided to activate his ability and negate his partner‘s, everything would be over. he would be able to breathe freely, he would be able to disrupt chuuya‘s balance and catch him in a hug, he would be able to sit up and get closer to him and other stuff. he knew all that and still, despite that fact, he allowed chuuya to do whatever he wanted right now. why, you might ask?

well, perhaps it was because a part of dazai still felt horribly guilty for leaving his partner without a word four years ago. he did blow up his car (which was, by the way, extremly fun) in order to announce his leave, but... he didn‘t do anything past that. and now it was eating him up, because he had no damn clue how could he explain himself to chuuya if he decided to give it a try. it would‘ve been easier back then, when his heart was shattered, his emotions fresh. heh. now that he thought about it, he really did fuck them up big time, did he not? they could‘ve had the world, they could‘ve been boyfriends, but he decided to ruin everything without a second thought. not that he ever regretted listening to oda and leaving the mafia... but man, it... this particular part of it was incredibly hard. it always has been. dazai sighed and turned his head to face the fence of the balcony, his eyes half-dead, half-empty. unlike his partner, he had no way of seeing the sunset in this position. (unless he looked up and watched the sky turn from dark red to pitch black. however, it was an option he didn‘t want to take.) not that he believed he deserved to watch anything so beautiful anyway after everything he‘d done. (and then there was also everything he was still hiding from the rest of the world.)

however, his guilt wasn't the only thing keeping him from activating his ability right now. there was also that always present darkness lurking in the depths of his soul, he knew that. he was painfully aware of it. through years of suffocating silence, then blood and death, then light and hope and happiness, he‘d learned that his old friend truly was nothing but right - he could never escape from it; he could never fill its emptiness. he could rebel like a teenage kid and pretend this wasn‘t true all he wanted (and he had, for at least a year), he could deny it, or sweep it under the rug, but still. in the end it was there, and there was no way to change it. the pain chuuya inflicted upon him a few minutes ago was nothing compared to the one he felt as he tried to cope with this simple (yet heavy) fact through each and every second, minute, hour of every day. even more - it made it easier to be alive, as fucked up and dark and morbid as it sounded. he really was a lost case, wasn’t he? heh. he could of, would of cried right now... if only he knew how.

when his partner decided to cancel his ability and move forward, probably to do whatever the hell smokers had to do with the ashes and cigarettes and stuff, dazai’s hands drifted off of him and back to the ground. “aaaaaaaaah, i can breathe properly again.” he remarked before he, for the sake of being a nuisance of course, took a very deep breath in and let a loud exhale out. “bleh. how many times do i have to tell you dying under your hands wouldn’t be enjoyable at all.” the light in his eyes was back again -- he made sure it was there before he threw a look chuuya’s way. “about that gaining weight thing, by the way... i take it back. you are still tiny, though.” and that tiny thing went on and lay his head on his chest and now... crap. he was caught off guard; he didn’t expect this to happen at all.

he had to blink a few times and give himself a few minutes to take in that familiar warmth, that familiar sight. then he smiled, ever so softly, lifting his right arm to rest its palm on the other’s head. he ran his fingers through that familiar red hair a few times. sigh... all this familiarity wasn’t good for his heart at all. “nah, i’m fine this way for now. and about the booze... i brought you gifts! one of them is wine!” thank lord chuuya couldn’t see his face right now. (he would erase this certain softness as soon as he sensed that his partner’s blue eyes were about to look his way.) “did you finally manage to burn that embarrassing hat?”

@NAKAHARA CHUUYA | ✎ kill me.
o, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again. o expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave, leave this body of mine! i enjoy nothing anymore but my wretched dreams.
136
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
HUMAN
ELITE TASK FORCE
DAE (HE / THEY)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
flustered by dazai's appearance on his property, chuuya didn't even think about being nullified. possibly because he'd made a habit of attacking him without tainted sorrow activated; possibly also because the former habit in his memory had been that dazai would only ever neutralise him when he was overflowing from corruption. secretly, he had to wonder too if dazai was a masochist. no matter how supercilious he could be about avoiding pain and suffering whenever possible, he seemed to get himself into highly painful and difficult situations on a daily basis. well... that was what distressed people did, wasn't it? self-harming and risking their wellbeing as a call for help, a way to release their own emotions, and a way to feel alive outside more strongly than utterly dead inside.

he knew too, however faintly, that dazai's self-loathing ran deeper than the pits of the underworld. why die when you already had hell around you and inside of you? he must think all agony deserved. chuuya didn't mean to abuse him badly, not truly. he'd always feel guilt for it later. but such a pitiful excuse for a living being... chuuya didn't know what to do besides strike some sense into him. sigh. what a shitty person he himself was, too. he'd deserve any pain he got even more -- but dazai made sure to never hurt him physically. the torment was all mental. (which one of them was worse to the other, then?)

you can breathe again? (yes, the purposeful loudness made chuuya's temperature rise.) have fun breathing in more second hand smoke for as long as my cigarette stays lit. he'd let it float from his mouth in gentle waves, so that the breeze could push and wash it over the younger man. unfortunately, he rested back just as dazai called him tiny, so he didn't have a chance to headbutt him so hard his heart would stop. eh, maybe he'd bash it sideways to smash dazai's chin. couldn't be fucked for now, so he did that thing with creating a haze of smoke above them both. he left the filter tip perched between his teeth on the side for a minute, so his next words turned out partly muffled from the limited opening of his mouth. "that'th exac'ly what makes it so appealing to me. doesn't matter if i'm shorter than you, anyway, i'm bigger 'n better in every other conceivable way."

trying so hard to play it chill, supposedly shrugging off the annoyance and insults, he actually did relax a bit, finishing his cig and subtly stubbing it on dazai's coat as the sun sank entirely under the barrows' skyline. then, as he was expelling the last traces of tobacco from his lungs, those long fingers sank through his hair, and he choked a little in surprise. well... what should he have expected, being so close to him like this? he felt a little self-conscious, having not washed his hair since early yesterday, but it tended to keep pretty well. it wasn't as soft and flowing as dazai's - it had its own rough thickness, coils and curls that were difficult to comb and always annoying in how they rested - which was partly why he liked having a hat on it, saved much of the bother.

dazai had to go be a dick and bring it up right then. chuuya sat up sharply, ending this weirdness, and whipped his head around to glare. watch it. insulting the hat was like insulting a child. if chuuya had one."i'm only gonna burn it when you burn all your bandages. and never get new ones." he sensed that dazai's eyes had a forced detachment to them; it was actually creepy how well he seemed to be able to control and direct his emotions around him. fucking machiavellian. the man grunted quietly and stood up (not that it made much difference to his height, dazai would say), swaying a little from dizziness and tipping back to rest against the railing.

it was odd, having dazai in his new home. well... technically not in it yet, but he probably would be in a minute. chuuya felt exposed - none of his usual accessories on, unarmed, bare footed, and only wearing thin, casual trousers and shirt. maybe the first evening so far where he'd felt like he'd be able to sit down and relax ... and the suicide maniac dropped in instead. "eehhhh... where is the wine, did it fall all the way to the ground and smash? all i see on you is your dirty vagabond clothes." he stepped directly over the drifter and stomped inside, leaving the door ajar. an open invitation, against all better judgement, for dazai to get up and see the interior of his crappy new apartment. besides, maybe he still did have the wine on him. somehow. he was pretty tall, and that coat was pretty roomy.

@DAZAI OSAMU | ✎ he actually gave up
What should one do, when what they want to be isn’t what they’re best at? Everyone fights, searching for the correct way to live their lives. What do they seek by fighting? How ought they live? No one can say. All we have is the right to waver. Like stray dogs that have hit rock bottom.
154
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
DAZAI
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
PIE (SHE / HER)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
pffffft. chuuya? bigger in every other way? okay, fine, dazai could (maybe) let him pass for stronger, but bigger? ehehehe, the mere thought of it was funny as heck. his laughter, so light and sweet that one could forget how dark and depressed and lost its owner actually was, cut down the silence, and stayed between them for a good long while. man, „chuuya, you‘re so cute.” dazai spoke through a few tears that managed to gather in his eyes. (shhhh, they were there because he was laughing so much, not because he was sad. or, perhaps, if he was honest, it was a mixture of both in the end?) one day he would prove him wrong and make him mad, but that day wasn‘t today. no, for today, he just wanted to lie right here in silence and enjoy the view with the person who, long ago, managed to snatch his heart. even smoke didn't bother him all that much.

mainly to make sure that chuuya was fine with where his hand was, the taller man let some time pass by before he carefully buried his fingers into the other‘s hair and started applying gentle pressure on his head. dazai was often oblivious and stupid and overwhelmed with his own emotions, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t pick up when his ex-partner was tense. he wasn‘t the best of the best in giving others a massage, but hey, he was trying! he would do everything to help chuuya relax! at least... welll... until he didn‘t feel the strange urge to piss him off again. it was incredibly amusing how quickly he could ease him up, and then drive him insane.

just like now.

as if he‘d know what was about to happen, dazai removed his fingers from chuuya‘s head right before the shorter male darted up. what a dumbass, he could‘ve made him pull out a dozen of his hair!! didn‘t he intend not to go bald any time soon?! (and, just for your side info, dazai wasn‘t exactly into bald men. sorry, chuuya.) siiiigh, seriously. was that embarrassing hat really worth that much? „yeah, yeah. i got it, i got it. dazai spoke, slightly (but obviously) bored now. real question though - could he even take all these bandages off? it‘s been such a long while since he tried to do that, but got bored mid-way. in the past, when he was still in port mafia, he hid countless of wounds under them. now, they covered just a few scratches he got here and there sometimes - a clear indicator that his mental state was improving in some way. they were still nice aesthetics, though, he supposed; and maybe one day, when he was less lazy, he would truly take them all off and burn them so he could trick chuuya into burning his hat!

„the wine should be at your front door with another gift.” at least he thought he left them there - he was about 100% positive - but he was too lazy to get up and make sure; was okay with just laying here for the rest of the night. chuuya, however, seemed to have different plans, which was fine. dazai watched him disappear through the balcony doors before finally pushing himself up into a sitting position. a few seconds after, he was on his feet, stretching his arms and yawning into the night. alright! suppose it was time to check this special apartment out! and find that very special wine!

@NAKAHARA CHUUYA | ✎ :| if you need this rewritten lemme know
o, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again. o expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave, leave this body of mine! i enjoy nothing anymore but my wretched dreams.
136
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
HUMAN
ELITE TASK FORCE
DAE (HE / THEY)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
of course he was tense! he had a stupid suicide attempter on his balcony! if he had any common sense, he would have disposed of him himself. or called the police to take him to the loony bin. (then he remembered barrows didn't have police, and his position was the closest thing to it.) crazy perv, laughing about his 'size' comment and calling him cute as well. and feeling him up like this (on his head, one of the most important places on his body)!! but this did remind him of the magical things dazai's hands could do... and worked against his common sense which'd been screaming at him to run away from this death-obsessed... person. thing. (was dazai even human any more? had he ever been? his fingers were just a shade cooler than the thick fiery roots of his hair, but they felt normal, perfect for touching every inch of chuuya's skin like they had years before.)

putting distance between them, however temporary, made him panic a little less. what was he thinking, laying all over dazai as if they'd never become estranged? his true desires got the better of him. (he was overjoyed that dazai still lived, and that he had found him. and now that he was here, within chuuya's gravitational pull, he was not going to let him leave his life. there is no escape, dazai.) then again, dazai was still the one to shock him; never could he really manage to spring a big surprise on the man. chuuya did a double-take at nothing in particular, utterly confused by the thought of dazai having somehow placed wine at his door before clambering up to the roof and then falling back down. AND there was a 'gift'? that was even more concerning. knowing dazai, it could be just about anything. you know, like... that favourite suicide book of his. or a box of puppies. or lingerie. an embarrassing coffee mug. look, the possibilities were endless.

chuuya tiptoed over his floor as if it was mine-infested territory, expecting to be blown to bits at any moment - especially when he would behold whatever lay on the other side of his door. with face screwed up in horrified anticipation, he opened it with urgency, kind of like ripping a weapon out of a wound. a sweet aroma tickled his nostrils first, and as he bent over to pick up what was, indeed, a bottle of wine, there was no way to miss what sat next to it: a bouquet of fresh-cut crimson roses. together, the two things must have cost quite a bit. starting to shake, he wished he could kick them over, destroy them - smash the glass and its contents to bits, crush and scatter the flowers, maybe stick them in an incinerator for good measure. but, glancing back into his apartment, he dragged the items in with him, flustered and hyperventilating and not really paying attention to his surroundings.

what the hell was dazai thinking? they were enemies! they'd broken up (though they had never exactly been together) and hadn't been able to go after each other, could only serve their selfish selves. dazai had never cared about him, anyway, just used him as an outlet for whatever he needed. (he'd even given his virginity to him, fuck it. should he regret that?) chuuya hastily dropped the roses near the kitchen sink, knowing he'd have to take them out of their wrapping and put them in a vase with water later so they wouldn't wither. (he really should set them aside and spitefully let them die, but it would be truly cruel to waste such beauty when it could brighten up his unadorned apartment for a few days.) then he reached for a couple of cups; unfortunately he didn't have any proper wine glasses yet.

"dazai," he growled, very loudly - enough so that the guy would be able to hear him as he then ranted on, no matter where he was (including if he was still on the balcony). "why - the fuck - did you get me flowers? they're red roses, too! you'd know exactly what those mean. i'm not some woman you're trying to hit on - or did these gifts get rejected repeatedly and you had to offload them on someone?" that... that had to be it. and he still felt that dazai must've looked up his address beforehand, or heard about the new task force member on the block. the man was clever enough to get any information he wanted. chuuya sighed, pink-faced and pouting, and leaned against the counter, one arm crossed protectively over himself and the other crooked up, fingers twirling a curl of his longest strands of hair.

"also, is the wine laced with poison? i bet it is. you'd love to commit a double suicide sharing one last lovely drink with someone." who is not me. definitely not me. i'm not going to drink something with dazai, even if it's not poisoned!!

@DAZAI OSAMU | ✎ don't kid urself, chuuya.
What should one do, when what they want to be isn’t what they’re best at? Everyone fights, searching for the correct way to live their lives. What do they seek by fighting? How ought they live? No one can say. All we have is the right to waver. Like stray dogs that have hit rock bottom.
154
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
DAZAI
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
PIE (SHE / HER)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
first thing his senses picked up on once he was inside the apartment was its smell. and no, to clarify, he definitely didn‘t mean that in a bad way. it smelled like chuuya; like his personal space; like home he‘d lost four long years ago. there was no way he could mix it up with anything else. it sure was empty, though - all his eyes caught so far was one (tiny) couch. (definitely suited for its tiny owner, no doubt.) blegh. laaaame. this meant no real picking around (or accidentally breaking random stuff just to piss chuuya off). extremely disappointed about this fact, dazai frowned to himself and pouted for a minute or two before making another step. oh, well. at least he was able to wander around and check out different rooms; maybe quickly snatch a spare towel in case, you know, something went incredibly wrong! (and no, he wasn‘t hinting on anything or something! shhh, shhh!)

he didn‘t come very far, though - the couch was far too inviting to pass on an opportunity to try it out. he carelessly flopped down on it and leaned back, trying to make himself comfortable. then, he closed his eyes and started counting down from six to one. why, you might ask? welll.... it was simply entertaining! like, for example... at six, his ears caught chuuya tip-toeing around. wasn‘t that amusing? he was inside his own home, but it didn‘t seem like he felt safe at all!! (who could blame him, though? it‘s dazai's presence alone that was at fault; he had blown up chuuya‘s car once in the past. thus why the redhead probably figured out that blowing up houses wasn‘t too big of a problem for him.) at three, he could hear chuuya openining the front door; at one, chuuya growled his name. bingo! a wide grin spread across his face. everything up until this very moment was going according to his plan. dazai osamu was victorious once again!!

„i liked them, that‘s all.” he innocently sang out once the other was in his line of sight. „figured you might like them too. and nope, they weren‘t for anyone else but you, chuuya! just like that wine!” the wine. chuuya should definitely be wary of it. not because it was poisonous or something like that, though. keh. as if, as if... „as if i‘d ever hand you something so valuable. stop worrying. it‘s completely drinkable.” he raised his arms and placed them behind his head, eyes scanning the other and observing every move that he made. it didn‘t take him long to figure chuuya was, in fact, shaking. ugh. well. crap. was he going too far with his joking around? „hey... you're shaking. if you don‘t like the flowers i can... burn them for you, you know.”

@NAKAHARA CHUUYA | ✎ :| if you need this rewritten lemme know
o, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again. o expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave, leave this body of mine! i enjoy nothing anymore but my wretched dreams.
136
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
HUMAN
ELITE TASK FORCE
DAE (HE / THEY)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
every time - every damn time - this madman crawled under his skin and set him aflame, triggering the chemical reaction to turn him into a supernova star (that would radiate destruction, gravitational waves, then collapse). he didn't even need to say anything - all chuuya had to do was spot him lounging around on his couch for another chunk of his stability (what stability?) to crack and blast apart into the aether. how could dazai be so cheerful... when he really wasn't? chuuya knew the real him. hmm, or maybe he was, at least superficially, in this exact moment, full of vim and vigour from being an annoying asshole.

"no!" he snapped, tugging on his hair so hard that it hurt. "like i'd let you do anything for me! i'm going to keep them to spite you." n-not because he liked them or anything. they were quite nice, objectively... what were the chances dazai had stolen them? as for the wine, the origins of that couldn't be certain either, but it looked legitimate enough. chuuya turned around and dug in his mostly-empty kitchen drawers for a corkscrew (he did at least have one of those). oh, the temptation to run over and stab it into dazai was great, but he focused on attacking the cork in the bottle instead. chuuya could, at least, drink as much as he could to erase the memory of dazai freakin' being here.

he poured a substantial dash into each cup and took them over along with the wine bottle, which he left on the coffee table. then he nimbly stepped over and curled up, legs underneath him, on dazai's front again, leaning sideways against the couch. man, it sure was nice to look down on him like this. "if you keep laying down places without my permission, i'm gonna keep sitting on you," he said. my house, my rules. also, there were no other good seats nearby, and he wasn't gonna stand or sit on the floor.

he held out one of the cups of wine to dazai, still shaking slightly. he would wait for him to drink first, simply because... 'cause it was polite. uninvited though he was, he was still a guest in chuuya's house. he was pretty warm and comfortable, too... he'd almost forgotten what this lap was like. (lewder memories accompanied that, too, and seemed to race past for a second in his intense, wavering blue eyes.) chuuya couldn't say it to him, but he was - amongst the fury and anxiety - also a little excited and glad that dazai was here. things had been tough, even in the past couple of days since starting his official 'job' here. miserable, purpose lost... at least now, in this minute, he could harass dazai and pretend life was as it had been back in japan.

tilting his head a little further into the material of the couch, he got his phone back out and tried to calm down his racing blood, wishing to resume his evening before a body had dropped from his roof. only it was better now: he had wine. (except it was worse because the body wasn't dead and was probably going to something ridiculous like burst into song or make fun of him some more.) "what're you doing in the neighbourhood?" chuuya ventured wearily, though he expected an evasive or idiotic reply. "you don't live around here, do you?" pleasesayno.

@DAZAI OSAMU | ✎ stuff. more sitting on mainly.
What should one do, when what they want to be isn’t what they’re best at? Everyone fights, searching for the correct way to live their lives. What do they seek by fighting? How ought they live? No one can say. All we have is the right to waver. Like stray dogs that have hit rock bottom.
154
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
DAZAI
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
PIE (SHE / HER)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
pfft. pffffffft. „fineeeee.” dazai exclaimed, pouting, seemingly disappointed with how everything turned out. he sure was trying to make it look like he wanted to burn those flowers, even though he... really. did not. wanttoburnthem. in all honesty, he was trying to just not care. they were only flowers in the end. they would stay pretty and (maybe) bloom for a few days or so before they‘d wither and die. they weren‘t a permanent gift, their importance was soon to be gone. they were nothing. so... so why was a part of him glad that chuuya decided to keep them? why did his heart jump in happiness when he was told ‚no‘?

they were an expensive bunch indeed; dazai usually wouldn‘t be willing to pay such enormous amount of money for a bouquet of roses. and he surely wouldn‘t be willing to spend hours of his time to make it as perfect as possible. that certain lady in elestis‘ flower shop was likely to have nightmares about him and his pickiness tonight. (aaand she was probably still wondering if he‘d gone ahead and counted thorns on every rose. he had not, okay? all he wanted wanted to make sure of was that their buds were in perfect shape, and their leaves were healthy and not half eaten by bugs. and my, he had a good eye for those!) however, it did not matter what people thought of him. not when it came to his pickiness when he was picking a gift for...

„chuuya.” that little thing somehow found his way to sit on him again!! geeee! not that he truly disliked it, he actually enjoyed it a lot, but... but did chuuya even realize just how hard it was to resist him when he was this close? goddamnit. to hell with the plan which said to keep away! with one of his hands, dazai reached out to take the glass filled with wine, „you sure like sitting on me. not that i mind, but...” but chuuya was playing with fire right now. with fire that was about to break through invisible boundaries it set for itself. he couldn‘t help it though; this was his ex-lover we‘re talking about.

dazai‘s free hand flew towards the shorter male and he hooked it around his waist, pulling himself up and drawing closer to his face. he was... quite careful while doing so, for he didn‘t want to spill the content in the glass in his other hand. „nothing in particular,” dazai purred out then, his eyes drifting from chuuya‘s eyes to his lips, and back up again. „just had a hunch i‘ll see someone here today so i came. i don‘t live here though, no.” was that truly the answer you wanted to hear?

@NAKAHARA CHUUYA | ✎ :| if you need this rewritten lemme know
o, grantors of dark disgrace, do not wake me again. o expectations, stale and dismal airs, leave, leave this body of mine! i enjoy nothing anymore but my wretched dreams.
136
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
HUMAN
ELITE TASK FORCE
DAE (HE / THEY)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
those roses had been so plump and beautiful that chuuya had imagined they would putrify and crumble beneath his corrupt touch. of course, his ability didn't work like that at all, but it was a relief anyway that they'd survived the short trip from his doorstep to the kitchen. (they would die anyway. no matter how hard he'd try to keep them well-watered and sunlit, they would crumple and shrivel and rot into dust no matter what. they'd already been severed from their life source; sometimes he wondered if plants felt pain, and if so, would all such beautifully-cut blooms be screaming in agony?)

chuuya was, in fact, quite aware of just how irresistible he could be. especially to this man. their self-control had always been low in the past... so what exactly had dazai expected would happen tonight when he waltzed on over and trespassed on his ex-lover's new home? to be let off easy, without being tempted and tormented? no, of course not. two could play at this game...

and dazai was still playing it pretty fucking well. didn't hold back - went right in for it, making chuuya brace himself and twist his waist to best support the elevated man. the redhead scoffed faintly while concentrating on keeping his blood flow from plummeting to places it really shouldn't. he had to keep his head in check when playing with poison, damn it! dazai might be a manipulative bastard, but he didn't really... lie to him. he did withhold the truth or important details as it suited him, but dishonesty was rare from a man so clever that it wasn't necessary.

the unbroken plane between their faces was interrupted, as casually and teasingly as he could manage, by his glass of wine, though he maintained eye contact all the way. he pressed its rim to his mouth and slowly took a sip, letting the rich red wetness soften and seep past his lips. he slowly played with that first sample, letting it roll over his tongue, a complex and bittersweet tang lighting him up to his eyes. "no point in questioning it any longer if all it'll ever be is a 'hunch'," chuuya said. was that all that had ever brought dazai to him? some stupid fate in the guise of psychic feelings? pathetic... "but i'll take it. didn't think i'd ever see you again." suddenly dipping his chin, he swallowed down the aftertaste of that mouthful - it resonated like peaches in the back of his throat. peaches and their blossoms.

well, might as well go for it before the opportunity faded. the cues couldn't be clearer; dazai definitely liked and wanted this. (who had really seduced who, though?) he carefully angled his way close - he couldn't screw this up, they hadn't done this in years - and slid his lips, wine-sweetened and smoke-touched, softly between dazai's. his free hand slid around dazai's back to hold them firmer together, while his other one blindly held his drink elevated - hopefully he wouldn't get so distracted that he'd spill it all over them. (and if he did? oh well. that meant clothes would have to come off.)

@DAZAI OSAMU | ✎ he missed him, shh
What should one do, when what they want to be isn’t what they’re best at? Everyone fights, searching for the correct way to live their lives. What do they seek by fighting? How ought they live? No one can say. All we have is the right to waver. Like stray dogs that have hit rock bottom.
154
POSTS
TWENTY-TWO
BUNGOU STRAY DOGS
DAZAI
PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR
PIE (SHE / HER)
HE / HIM
I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah, we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out. I'll be your ghost, your game, your stadium. I'll be your fifty-thousand clapping like one. And I feel alright, and I feel alright, 'Cause I worked it out, yeah, I worked it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
if dazai wanted to be completely honest, he expected nothing. this peculiar reunion could‘ve gone one way or another from the moment they’d spoken their first set of words. they could of yelled at each other. he could‘ve been thrown off the balcony. chuuya also had every right on this world to slam the door shut before dazai‘s nose. or he could‘ve been... elsewhere (not home) when dazai decided to fall from the roof. there was also a possibility of him completely ignoring weird noises coming from the outside. (one would imagine people living in barrows weren‘t exactly strangers to those.) the possibilities were endless; dazai was just lucky, that‘s all. (when wasn‘t he lucky, though?)

yet despite having no expectations or whatsoever, he was more than willing to play this little teasing game; there was no way in hell he would lose now. not when he was able to hold this little thing so close and make him blush. (yes, he‘d noticed it, even though chuuya tried to cover it with all strength he had.) man, was he cute when he was flustered. dazai wasn‘t any better, though - while he might appear unaffected and calm, his heart was ablaze, nearly racing right now.

oh, that goddamn glass! „you really can be such a damn tease, chuuya.” he mumbled with a smirk on his face, keeping his gaze on his partner‘s. for a second he regretted bringing wine with him in the first place. he did want those lips on his own as soon as it was possible. but then.. his partner was easily bribed with a good wine. pfeh. fine! he would let and watch him take a sip but no more. he caught the same thing he felt in those blue eyes, though. that certain want and need for them to break that little space which kept them apart.

was it right to want that? wouldn‘t they be falling into the same bottomless abyss they had in the past? wouldn‘t this end up in another disaster as times and times before? wouldn‘t he just hurt chuuya if he went ahead and go for anything more? but mori wasn‘t here. at least, he wasn‘t for now. there wasn‘t anyone who could hold their desires as their weakness, as something they could crush them with. dazai saw a chance in that. maybe, things would be differen‘t from here now. (in that moment he forgot to be afraid of one person he should‘ve been afraid of the most - himself.)

he did not hesitate to kiss right back, accepting chuuya‘s lips and embracing them with his own. he pulled him closer, nearly forgetting about every single thing that surrounded them, even the glasses themselves. heh. that sweet taste of wine. he missed it so. (he didn‘t enjoy smoke all that much, though. it did remind him of chuuya nonetheless.)

@NAKAHARA CHUUYA | ✎skjahjkgh these two.
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SKINNED BY Vanessa of SHINE AND CAUTION
READ THE CBOX RULES. KEEP IT PG-13.