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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. ]
html = how to make lapses
It's part of why Dazai gets along with the man. He enjoys people making such choices - the kind that seems illogical at first, but is anything but. If part of that is him trying to find justification for his own choices, well, nobody needs to know that.]
In that case, I definitely didn't take pictures~!
[You believe him, don't you? Just look at this reliable face! Except that Chuuya isn't even raising his head yet. What a bother... Dazai gently pats said head.]
Now that you're finally awake, could you move? I've been needing to use the bathroom for hours.
[Not actually true - if anything, he wants to make coffee - but a supposed weakness should make for a good subject change from those photos.]
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Chuuya really doesn't want to move. Especially if Dazai is going to pet his head.]
I'll move if you'll get me some painkillers while you're up.
[He really needs them. He can't remember having a hangover this bad before. This is not how he usually feels when he's been drinking, and he drinks a lot. Too much.
How much did he even have last night?]
And don't turn on the lights.
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[Hmm... Actually, that's probably not the most painful way to go? But having Chuuya cause his death, no matter how indirectly, would be a pain.
Pat-pat. Pat-pat-pat-pat.]
Let me up, okay? Or everything's going to get wet. I promise I'll get you your painkillers.
[He'll even throw in some coffee, because he's a nice(*citation needed) guy like that.]
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[He's not buying it. And if Dazai stubs his toe, it's not like he'd feel bad about it.
He might actually feel a bit bad about it.
He grunts a bit, and then rolls off Dazai, immediately reaching for his pillow to bury his face in instead. And he'll pull the blanket over his head.]
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Still, apart from turning on the lights, Dazai does as promised. It must be the sex, but even Dazai's invariably dark mood seems to have had the sharp edges of it filed down and made blunt. He messes with Chuuya out of habit, but there's no real drive to push it further than he needs to.
Before long, he returns with two cups of coffee, one glass of water, and some painkillers that are definitely not over-the-counter. (What can he say? He gets into accidents sometimes! And into "accidents".)]
Hellooooo~? Will Mr. Slug come out to play~?
[... That sounds like a horrible euphemism, actually, but okay.]
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No, he's naked. He'll just drop those between his legs where they're safe.]
I don't usually get this hungover.
[He doesn't usually drink enough to get really dehydrated, since he gets drunk way before that point. This is different. He finishes the glass of water, and only then does he notice that oh, Dazai actually brought him coffee, too. He'd thank him, but they don't do that, but he definitely looks grateful.
This is weird. Dazai is almost being nice. He'll set the empty glass down, and reach for the coffee before his ex-partner changes his mind.]
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That's because you're not hungover. You were drugged.
[Dazai relates that very casually, not even looking at Chuuya. He can predict the guy's reaction, anyway, and his coffee is more important.]
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[He looks over at Dazai, who isn't even looking at him. He needs a few moments to even process that, forgetting all about his coffee for now.]
By who?
[He's assuming it wasn't Dazai. Not that he doubts Dazai would - of course he would - but if Dazai wanted to fuck with him he'd either admit it outright or cover his tracks better. He's not ruling it out completely, though.
But who else would?
A lot of people, that's who. Shit. Shit. What was their intention? It can't have been to have him hunt down Dazai and beg to be fucked, unless they wanted to humiliate him.
In which case they've wasted their time and effort. He's always humiliated by Dazai, there's no need to set that up.]
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[The words suggest lack of interest more than lack of knowledge, Dazai still basking in the sweet warmth of his coffee more than anything. He has ideas, of course, and he'll investigate just to make sure. But that doesn't mean he intends to share the details with Chuuya. That won't do either of them any good.]
It's always possible that they meant to take advantage of you themselves, but you happened to run into me first.
[It's possible, but Dazai doesn't consider it likely. Still, he'd as soon get Chuuya thinking about other options as letting him continue with the next logical step: investigating the incident himself, and trying to get revenge.
The fact that this person got to Chuuya in the first place proves that Chuuya is no match for him.]
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If he was the target, he can deal with it himself. He'd really like to kill whoever did this.]
Where's my phone?
[Actually, where are his clothes? He can't exactly do this naked. He sets his coffee down (untouched), and starts to get up. Then has to stop as the pounding in his head just gets worse.
It's fine. He's ignored worse. He never lets injury or pain stop him from working.]
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[And Chuuya definitely isn't at his best now, is the very blunt but not unreasonable implication. Honestly, Dazai would rather get Chuuya to back off altogether, but that's too much to ask for just yet. He'll aim at buying time, for now.]
I'll look into it later. Don't waste the coffee I made for you with my very own hands!
[... It's instant coffee, let's face it.]
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He sits back down. Reluctantly.]
I'll wait for the painkillers to kick in.
[He's actually tempted to take another, but he usually reacts pretty strongly to meds. One should be enough. He thinks.
He grabs the coffee again.]
Half an hour.
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Oh, well. He'll see how that turns out.]
Have the drugs affected your hearing, too? I said I'd look into it, didn't I?
[He's not selfless enough to do that out of the kindness of his heart, of course. But there's a possibility that Chuuya was drugged and sent to Dazai specifically for a reason, and that makes it Dazai's problem, too.
It doesn't seem to have been a distraction, at least, since there's been no word of anything bad happening. Which brings Dazai back to his original theory - but whatever, he'll ponder that more, later.]
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[He does trust him. That’s entirely besides the point. He hates feeling useless, and feeling weak is even worse. He needs to beat someone up. And the fact that he doesn’t feel up to it doesn’t matter: Whenever he gets sick, he always insists on working twice as hard, just to spite his body.
So this is the worst.
And part of him is happy that he’s here with Dazai, and that Dazai is offering to help. He’s missed this, something he’s never going to admit. Wanting this only increases his anger, but he tries to push it down, sipping his coffee instead. ]
Why do you even care what I do?
[Expected answer: Dazai doesn’t. ]
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[If Chuuya was a target, it's highly possible that Dazai was, too - not in the same way, of course, but that would definitely not have worked on him anyway.
His point stands: he's not an outsider in this, whether he cares about Chuuya or not.]
If you get yourself killed, the position of the Port Mafia will be much weaker. If the position of the Port Mafia is weaker, the stability of the city will be at risk.
It isn't rocket science.
[Chuuya knows this, and Dazai doesn't want to make more of it than that. Bringing personal feelings into it would make everything needlessly complicated.]
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[Is his lengthy answer. Dazai is right, and there's nothing he hates more. He hides himself behind his cup for a moment, trying to make himself feel better with coffee.
Absolutely terrible coffee, but it's warm and it has caffeine in it. He hopes. If Dazai gave him decaf, he's gonna kill him.
He's quiet for a moment, before finally looking over at Dazai again, looking almost a little unsure.]
So we're doing this together.
[Dazai won't be able to stop Chuuya from getting himself involved, not unless he wants to knock him out. But he can at least agree to do it Dazai's way. Which means he investigates, finds out what needs to be done, and points Chuuya in the direction of people to punch.
Just like old times.]
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Probably. Hopefully...
I insist.Doing it together is definitely not what Dazai had in mind, but he knows better than to argue with Chuuya over something like this. Besides, he might be able to use Chuuya's brute physical strength - and if the culprit is not one Chuuya could or should be able to handle, it won't be hard to get him side-tracked.
Even so... Putting his cup away, Dazai rubs his forehead.]
Your headache is rubbing off on me already, Chuuya.
[What a pain in the neck (and elsewhere) this will be.]
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Argument over, he can have some more coffee. ]
If you get me to the people I need to kill, I’ll buy you a coffee machine.
[Not because that will make Dazai feel better about this whole mess, but because Chuuya really can’t stand this swill. He doubts he’ll ever be here to drink it again, since they’re enemies, but still. ]
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[With a sigh, he stretches, putting his hands on the bed behind him so he can lean back and stare at the ceiling, for no other reason than that it's there.]
... And creamer.
[Is he trying to get as much out of Chuuya as he can, just for the sake of it? Of course he is. Even so, he genuinely gets something of a kick out of the idea of Chuuya getting him presents. He doesn't need them, of course: he can afford to buy more than he needs. Maybe it's just because getting presents is like forcing Chuuya to admit he cares, in the only Chuuya-like way that doesn't involve violence.
And hey, Dazai can always throw the stuff out or re-gift it.]
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[Coffee and creamer won’t cost him anything. He’ll get Dazai a good coffee machine, too, he doesn’t mind spending money on it. Maybe the kind that grinds beans as well, although that might be too slow for Dazai’s lack of patience. Maybe the capsule kind. He can’t exactly ask Dazai what he wants, because he’ll probably just pick the most expensive one, for no reason other than he can.
He shifts on the bed so he can still watch Dazai, slowly finishing his coffee.]
But only if I get to personally kill at least some of the people involved.
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[The phrasing is, of course, deliberate. Should it be Mori after all -... Well, it's not like there's a real risk of anything happening, then.]
We'll start by retracing your steps. After we freshen up some, that is...
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[He starts to get up as well, more cautiously now. His head still hurts, but it's slowly getting better thanks to the pills. And he's always liked to follow Dazai into the bathroom, since it's a rare chance to see him out of his bandages.
Although maybe he should wait this time.
No, he wants to follow. He'll just bring his coffee.]
And we'll stop by a coffee shop for something decent.
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There's also a lock-pick, a miniature tracking device and battery (separate, of course), and one or two other assorted small items wrapped up in his bandages, all of which Dazai carefully sets aside. Look, they come in handy more often than not!
He turns on the water, makes sure it's a good temperature, and steps underneath the shower head, letting the water hit him in the face. He may not feel like bothering with a whole bath, but he needs a little energy to face this day.]
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Dazai is different than he remembers. Taller. More scars. A little skinnier, even, which immediately makes him want to get them both some breakfast. He's still also Chuuya's exact type in every single way, which is annoying. He's supposed to be over him, but here he is, partering up with the asshole all over again. He tries to pretend he's not a little happy about that. Only when Dazai steps into the shower does he turn away, looking at himself in the mirror to asses the damage.
Hair: A mess. Very little he can do about that here, besides try to twist it into some order.
Skin: Fine.
And -- ]
Why am I wearing your bolo tie?
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[It could be a lie, but it's almost certainly too obvious of one, especially for someone like Dazai. Grabbing some soap, he makes a halfhearted attempt at getting clean. Honestly, he cares more about the heat of the water than anything else.
He never does feed himself like he should. It's just too much effort. Soaped-up hands move over his body with effective speed, and before long, he's rinsing off.]
You already insisted on ravishing me. I wasn't going to risk other physical violence.
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