now we’re swallowing the shine of the summer
[Chuuya turned into the alley just in time to see Dazai fall over, a man with a bat standing over him. There were a few more people standing around, too - who the hell had his ex-partner pissed off now, Chuuya wondered. And how the hell had they managed to get the better of him. Dazai might be a shitty fighter, but he always had a plan.
Chuuya was already kicking one of the men into a wall when he remembered that Dazai's plan was often him.
If t was, he was going to kill him, he decided. They weren't partners anymore, after all. But it might just be a coincidence, too. This wasn't Port Mafia territory. Dazai probably hadn't known he'd be in the area. But if he'd got himself caught up in some thugs' business without a plan, then Chuuya was really going to kill him.
The last of the men went down, and Chuuya hurried over to check on Dazai. He crouched down next to him, gently patted his face, then pinched his nose for a few seconds to see if he really was passed out, or just being lazy. No reaction. He had a few scratches, some bleeding. One of the wounds looked bad, but it wasn't life threatening - it just needed to be cleaned and bandaged, or he'd almost definitely get an infection.
Alright, so. What the hell did he do?
Most people would bring him to the hospital, but Chuuya wasn't most people. He was mafia. And he knew Dazai valued his privacy, too. He could bring him to that pet agency of his, but the thought of doing that for Dazai made his skin crawl. Besides, he couldn't let word get out that he'd carried a traitor to safety. He could leave Dazai here. But then Dazai wouldn't know Chuuya had helped him, and he really wanted a chance to rub that in the asshole's face.
— He could bring him home.
It felt weird. It was something he would have done when they were partners. But it was only because he wanted to annoy him, not because he actually cared that he was hurt. Still, Chuuya hesitated a bit. He brushed Dazai's hair back, just to check his scalp for any other injuries. Yeah, he'd bring him home. He couldn't wait to see Dazai's face when he realized who had saved his sorry ass.
Carefully, Chuuya shifted Dazai around, pulling him up slightly by the arms, and then leveraged his weight onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry. Then he set off in the direction of his apartment. ]
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[Don't make him think about anything like that, when he's trying to just focus on first aid.]
And for the record, I never have trouble getting laid.
[So there.
And he had planned on giving Dazai an extra painkiller, but now he stuck to the recommended dosage instead, slipping the rest of the pack into his back pocket to keep Dazai from getting his hands on it.
When he started cleaning the wound on Dazai's leg, though, he wasn't any rougher than he needed to be. Unfortunately, that still wasn't gentle, since there was dirt trapped beneath the skin and he needed to make sure to get it all out. It was easier to look at the wound than Dazai's face, at least. He was starting to regret his decision to bring him here.
He could have just dumped him outside his little Agency for someone to find.]
The only thing they could have done better was cause you more pain. They should have taken their time with it.
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Please don't mention you and sex in the same sentence, or I will need that bucket after all.
[Back pocket? Duly noted! Dazai was half tempted to go all seductive and steal the painkillers while he was copping a feel - arguably a win-win situation - but wound care was an efficient distraction. Whether Chuuya tried to be gentle or not, it hurt, and Dazai was uncharacteristically silent, except when he couldn't avoid talking.]
Well, you're certainly picking up their slack. [Yup, it actually hurt enough for him to complain, and even though he made it deliberately whiny, it didn't feel right. A shift in topic might be for the best - and Dazai needed some answers, anyway.] ... Did you kill them?
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[You totally brought it up first, Dazai.
Chuuya was thorough cleaning the wound, not at all caring that he was hurting him, because he knew an infection would hurt worse. Besides, Dazai did deserve it. That and worse. Chuuya just didn't want else be to one to inflict that pain.]
At least one of them. Probably two. [He didn't check, he just got them out of the way.] I can get someone to check.
[And anyone still alive could be questioned to figure out what the hell Dazai's plans were.]
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There's no need. Either that ragtag band itself or some soldiers from your side will have found the place and cleaned it up by now.
[One way or the other. What was done, was done. Not that Dazai was going to stop Chuuya if he wanted to make a call and get everything checked properly. If Dazai cared about hiding his motives in this particular case, he would have been more subtle about his approach too... probably.
There were no obvious signs of pain from Dazai except his occasional silence, and a pale tint to his face that wasn't so different from his usual. If there was any real sign at all, it was a slightly shaky quality to the exhale after a long breath - and then he belatedly decided to lie down again, arms spread a little, eyes closed. Sitting wasn't doing him any favors, and the painkillers were doing nothing at all so far.
Besides, this way he'd definitely be able to steal the rest of the pills when Chuuya moved on to treat wounds higher up his body. Not that Dazai needed them as such - the pills he'd already taken would just take a little longer to kick in - but without such little ways to fuck with Chuuya, what point would there be to staying alive?]
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So he could use it against him later, of course. No other reason.]
If you'd been armed, this wouldn't have happened.
[Weak, Dazai. Chuuya paused what he was doing to let Dazai lie down again, then pressed a bandage on top of the first wound. He moved on to the injuries to Dazai's chest - that giant bruise looked bad, but there wasn't much he could do about it.]
Or if you'd had backup, since you're determined to be useless.
[Not that he worries, of course.]
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[Dazai wasn't exactly bullet-proof, unlike some. Besides, fighting power would never be his special talent. He'd rather save what physical strength he had for when it was truly necessary.
Still, there was some point to Chuuya's criticism - a very, very small point, of course, but that suited Double Black (Small). Back in the day, Dazai would have involved his underlings, or even let them handle the entire operation; for all his faults, he'd been focused on results, whenever he'd bothered doing something. He could claim that the reason he didn't arrange for backup now was that the Agency was too small a crew to put any of them at risk, but he'd be lying. Was it just tempting fate, in a way? But, if he really wanted to die, wouldn't he have killed himself a long time ago? Hadn't he made good on his promise to Odasaku enough by now?
He knew the answers, but they weren't what he wanted to hear, nor did knowing them change the facts even in the slightest. Given that, what point was there in knowing?
His eyes still as good as closed, he decided to change the subject.]
This is purely hypothetical, but what would it take for you to get me a drink?
[His hand, meanwhile, was absolutely sneaking in the direction of that back pocket, though he wasn't making a move just yet. It would be easier to lift them if and when Chuuya moved, anyway.]
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[Does he sound bitter? He's totally not bitter.
He presses his hands gently on top of Dazai's ribs, to feel if anything is obviously broken. There won't be much he can do if there is - he'd need to actually get someone else in - but lucky for Dazai, he can't find anything. So even if a rib or two is cracked, it's not life threatening. Probably. There's nothing to potentially poke through his lungs or skin, at least.]
You shouldn't drink when you probably have a concussion.
[That's never stopped either of them before. But he's in Mom Mode now.]
Can you roll over? I need to check the back of your head.
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[Which was not a lie. It just wasn't an explanation, either - but it was as much of an answer as Dazai cared to give. Chuuya might find out (some of) Dazai's motivation for doing what he had, which might or might not let him make an educated guess about Dazai's reasons for the lack of backup, but in the end, "Dazai being Dazai" would still be the only reason anyone could say for sure applied.]
Hnnng, Chuuya, you're so cruel...
[He was a big boy! He could totally have drinks! Unlike small boys who still drank anyway!!
Still, Dazai didn't put up more of a fuss than that would-be admission of defeat. He didn't even complain as he did what Chuuya told him to, and rolled over.
He just rolled over towards Chuuya. No need to complain, now! Chuuya would still be able to see the back of his head well enough, and Dazai could curl around Chuuya a bit in a rare moment of silent clinginess.
And steal those pills, of course.]
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[Because Dazai isn't someone who can be taken down by just any ragtag group of losers. He's Chuuya's personal thorn, and he doesn't get to die until Chuuya decides it's time. So he didn't care much about the reasons why - he could guess, though it was impossible to say with his asshole of an ex-partner - he just cared that it was careless.
When they'd worked together, if Dazai had decided to deal with something like this on his own, Chuuya would have found a way to follow if he could. Because Dazai couldn't be trusted to take care of himself.]
I'm being nice for not strangling you.
[He definitely hadn't expected Dazai to roll towards him, and to curl so close to his body. Chuuya didn't know what to do for a second - but he had a job here, so he leaned over him, fingers gently brushing away hair to check his skull. He was bleeding where he'd been hit, but it wasn't deep.
So he set about cleaning it, a bit more gentle now.]
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Still, Dazai couldn't honestly say that he wouldn't - didn't - treat the ADA members as tools, by one definition if not the other, so he decided not to comment. There was no point in lying to Chuuya about such things, anyway. That was the one refreshing thing about Chuuya: he saw Dazai almost as evil as he was.
But still not enough so, and Dazai would continue to punish him for that.
Dazai winced a bit when Chuuya checked the wound on his head, briefly curling more tightly around Chuuya - and lifting the painkillers at the same time. It was almost a shame to waste the moment with something so practical, because Dazai could see how this might be appealing: in bed together, two warm bodies, and himself getting all of this attention...
Almost a shame. There was no point in lying to himself about what he could and could not have, even if his massive headache (not to mention all the other pain) made it very tempting to give in and pretend for a moment.]
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And he knew Dazai never hesitated to use them before, so what had changed? If he actually cared about that pathetic group when the rest of them had been so easy to discard for him, Chuuya might never forgive him.
He took his time with the wound, and even found himself rubbing Dazai's scalp slightly, to help with the headache he knew he must have. He stroked the hair away from his face, so that when he wrapped bandages around his head, the strands wouldn't bother him.]
You should sleep, but I'll have to check on you every few hours.
[He stayed still while Dazai was wrapped around him, though.]
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It was actually pretty annoying - and though that was not exactly Chuuya's fault, there was no one else to blame. These illusions of Chuuya caring about him, not to mention the implications of such feelings, were incredibly frustrating.
Maybe Dazai had been hit on the head harder than he thought. Part of him wanted to make the moment linger, but that was not in his best interest when it came to swallowing those painkillers, now hidden under his hand. Even messing with Chuuya further, tempting as it was, would only keep Chuuya from leaving the way he should. And so Dazai tried to keep it simple, his body relaxing and his voice very deliberately oh-so-tired.]
This... It's a little... nostalgic.
[It wasn't a thank-you, but Chuuya wouldn't have believed that anyway. Perhaps this would serve better. For now, Dazai planned to pretend at being asleep, his breathing slow and steady, and to wait until Chuuya had left to take every last one of those pills.
Have fun when you come for your first check-in and find Dazai genuinely passed out with an empty strip of pills somewhere in the bed~!]
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He ended up not saying anything at all. He helped Dazai off with his pants so he'd be comfortable, pulled a blanket over him, and then left.
He spent the next couple of hours unable to relax. He put on a mindless action movie, and spent most of the time glancing at his own bedroom door. He couldn't focus, and it was a relief when he could finally go wake Dazai up again. He didn't know what to do with himself, with his ex-partner sleeping so close by.
And as it turned out, he shouldn't have been trying to relax at all.
Chuuya noticed the pills almost immediately. It took a split second to realize the implications, and then he ran over to Dazai's side, shaking him awake.]
Dazai? Dazai, you asshole, wake up.
[Did he sound worried? Because he was actually worried. He pressed two fingers to Dazai's wrist to check the strength of his pulse, wondering if he should be calling a doctor.]
If you die in my bed, I'll kill you.
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It wasn't that he couldn't handle the pain. It wasn't even that he wanted to die. He was just so bored that, once in a while, risks had to be taken. It was bad enough to keep living; he at least needed a little something to spice things up every now and then. And, all right, the lack of pain was a nice bonus. Drifting off for real this time was remarkably peaceful.
...
There was a voice from far away, piercing the pleasant-yet-sharply-chemical cloud that Dazai had been floating along on. Things were moving, and Dazai's face scrunched up a bit - which required more effort than he cared to expend, but it was the movement making him do it. He didn't like it.]
That's cruel... I wasn't expecting angels to come for me, but to think the devil would send leprechauns...
[... Yeah, he was fine, mostly. Well enough to say a thing like that, anyway - and he only sounded a teensy bit tipsy, his voice not quite cooperating.]
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You need to throw up.
[He just wasn't sure how to make him, since he wasn't about to stick his fingers down Dazai's throat. Not unless he absolutely had to. Maybe movement would be enough, if he was still dizzy. Chuuya grabbed him, pulled, twisted him onto his stomach with his head hanging over the edge of the bed. Then he kicked the bucket under his face.]
Make yourself vomit. I'm calling a doctor.
[Someone he knew wouldn't ask too many questions. Someone he knew could be trusted. He pulled out his phone before Dazai could object, and started dialling. He was worried. He hated this kind of worry. He should be used to it from Dazai, he shouldn't even care, but the asshole always did this to him. Shit.]
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Don't. [It was a remarkably calm and straight-forward statement. No doctors. Even the most reliable of them would answer to Mori before they answered to Chuuya, and there was a professional connection as well as the Organization hierarchy. Calling in any doctor was too big a risk for Chuuya to take.
Not that Dazai really cared about Chuuya getting in trouble, of course. But he might have developed an aversion to Mori touching what was his without him planning for it to happen.]
I'll throw them up, so... hang up.
[There was no point, really. The overwhelming majority of the pills' active components would have long since been absorbed by his body - but if this would make Chuuya feel like he'd won, then Dazai would let him have his supposed victory. If nothing else, it would hopefully make Chuuya's revenge that much gentler. Dazai didn't regret swallowing the pills or letting Chuuya take him here, but he didn't feel as capable of dealing with Chuuya physically as he would normally be. Even the mental games were taking a lot out of him.]
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He sat next to Dazai on the bed again, sighing, trying not to be too upset. It wasn't as if it was surprising.]
Why the hell do you always do this?
[Or something like it, anyway.
He could at the very least use his phone to go online, check how dangerous that amount of pills was. He could have done that from the start, but he'd panicked, too reminded of all the times Dazai had talked about killing himself. Chuuya had yelled in his face once that there was no way he'd ever let him.]
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I wonder...
[Why did he do these things, indeed? If Chuuya didn't understand it by now, he would never understand it. That was fine: nobody ever did.
Nobody ever had, except for one.
Well, a promise was a promise... Taking a deep breath, Dazai opened his eyes again, staring down into the bucket. His arms were rather uncooperative - not painful, though! the pills were doing their job! - but he managed to move them enough to stick two fingers down his throat, making himself throw up. There was little enough that came out, because when did he ever eat enough, but there was at least diluted gastric acid, with some half-digested capsules floating around in it.
Ahhh, maybe he'd been too quick to give up, after all... Somehow, that small defeat was more discouraging than his physical state right now.]
You definitely... [He wiped his mouth. Gross, gross, gross.] ... owe me a drink now.
[Some help getting into a better position wouldn't go amiss, either. Dazai felt like throwing up had taken almost all of his energy.]
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You're still the one who owes me. [He was a bit less panicked now (google said the pills wouldn't kill him), which meant he could think beyond just 'what the hell do I do?'] You knew I'd react like that, so there's no way I'm apologizing.
[Dazai was still fucking with him. Still playing his games, still trying to get reactions out of him for fun. And Chuuya was letting him. He'd let his guard down. With Dazai.
Why the hell was he doing this again?]
Don't you ever stop?
[He knew the answer to that.]
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Well, nevermind. It was hard to maintain any line of thinking, thoughts sinking away, quickly getting out of reach, as soon as they popped up.]
I tried to stop?
[Just now, when he almost overdosed, l o l... Okay, not really, but it was fun to rub it in all the same. No - perhaps "fun" wasn't the right word. It was a habit; the motions he went through just to keep going. It had been fun, once; now, it rarely so much as tickled him. But what else was he supposed to do?]
Your reactions never disappoint.
[Not the kindest thing to say, perhaps, but oddly enough, Dazai's tone of voice was soft, almost gentle.]
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If you wanted me back in the room, you could have just yelled.
[Because that's what you'll get now, Dazai: Chuuya's watchful eye over you, constantly, until he's decided you're well enough to leave. He wasnt risking it again, ane he knew there was no way to Dazai proof anything. He'd find a way to hurt himself in a padded room.
Chuuya wasn't supposed to fucking care anymore, though.
He took the glass back to return it to the nightstand, staying quiet for a few seconds. It wasn't kind at all. The reminder that Dazai was toying with him, had always been toying with him, hurt. But that wasn't something he ever planned on letting show. Besides, he was used to it.]
One of these days I'll just ignore you.
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Oh. No padded rooms today. Well, he could live with that.]
One of these days, you should.
[Dazai would be the last to say that Chuuya ignoring him wasn't what he deserved. Dazai knew exactly what he was doing - what he'd always been doing. It just wasn't a reason to stop.
Was he sitting...? Yes, he was. Balance was a strange thing, though, and with Chuuya's support gone, Dazai decided to lie down.]
Those pills were pretty good...
Hey, Chuuya. Lend me your lap?
[Yeah, that was bound to get a positive response. Chuuya's legs were too hard to be comfortable anyway, but Dazai was feeling nice and floaty, and he might as well ask.]
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[He'd always suspected Dazai needed people, but at this point, he definitely doubted himself. But he wanted to know for sure. That's why he could never quite let Dazai go.
But he didn't hate himself enough to let Dazai rest in his lap.]
You're lucky I'm letting you have pillows at all.
[Chuuya is going to sit on the floor, by the door, watching Dazai sleep. That's what he's going to do.]
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He was a bad person for other reasons entirely.]
C'moooon, Chuuyaaaaa...
[Here Dazai was, admitting he was lonely - and this was the response he was getting! Some argument you're making here, Chuu.
Dazai made the effort of looking at Chuuya, tilting his head a little. He was feeling pretty sleepy-horny-cuddly right now.]
I promise I won't try anything. [...] Again.
[Not until he'd slept, anyway.]
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But Dazai keeps coming back. It has to mean something.
And Chuuya is lonely, too.]
Hold on.
[He can't exactly lie down in bed in his vest and shirt and bolero and harness, not if he wants to get comfortable. Let him just get changed first, opening his closet to find the softest pyjamas he has, changing right there in front of him. It's nothing Dazai hasn't seen before anyway.]
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