TW: mentions of wanting to die (nothing in detail), self-loathing (again, nothing in detail), suggestive (again, not detailed, just strongly hinted at), look, it has Dazai in the title, so if you didn’t g expect these warning I don’t know what to tell you.
It was loud, maybe too loud.
Dazai didn’t want to go to this New Year’s party, but there was free food, Chuuya wanted to go; and the rest of the Agency was going so here he was.
Alone, because Chuuya had wondered off and was probably shit faced, and-
Of all the places to hold a New Year’s party with both the Agency and the port mafia, why choose somewhere so small?
Needing fresh air he pushed the doors to the balcony open, and then closed behind him, the cold sharp air of Yokohama hitting his longs as he walks over to lean on the railing.
But after a few moments he realized he’d at most break his legs, and he wasn’t a fan of pain, not to mention the fact Chuuya would scold the hell out of him.
He smirks, it’d serve Chuuya right for leaving him all alone.
He hears the door open, and glances over his shoulder to see the familiar red haired man holding a drink.
“You weren’t thinking about jumping, were you?” Chuuya asks, standing beside the taller man.
Dazai shrugs. “Are you gonna hit me if I say yes?” He responds playfully.
Chuuya’s hand of course hits the back of his head.
“Chibi is so mean to his loving, adoring, husband.” Dazai whines, though he wasn’t really upset, Chuuya hadn’t hit him hard enough to hurt.
“You’re such a baby.” Chuuya scoffs.
Dazai leans his head on Chuuya’s shoulder. “How long till midnight?” He asks, bored of the topic at hand.
Chuuya glances at his new watch, which Tachihara had gotten him for Christmas. “Three minutes, why?”
“Just wondering when I’ll get my kiss.” He muses playfully.
“Mh-hm, nothing to do with you wanting to leave?”
Dazai puts a hand on his chest in mock-hurt, lifting his head up. “Me? Want to leave a boring, loud party? Never.”
Chuuya playfully nudges him, taking a sip out of his glass, as he rolls his eyes. “Plans for the new year?”
“You, mostly.” Dazai remarks with a smirk.
“I meant a resolution-and I swear to god if you say to die.” He quips in mock-agitation.
Dazai chuckles. “To fu-owe!” Chuuya had jabbed him in the ribs, knowing damn well where that sentence was going.
“Forget I asked.” He huffs, and Dazai chuckles beside him.
“Well what’s your resolution?” The brunette asks, a hint of genuine curiosity slipping into his tone.
Chuuya blushes, and looks down at his watch. “You know it’s less than two minutes till.”
“You’re dodging the question.” Dazai points out, now really curious.
Chuuya’s blush darkens and he entwines his fingers with Dazai’s. “To give you a reason to live.” He mumbles.
Dazai blushes in return, a small somber smile coming to his face. “I think you’re wasting your time.”
He glares at him. “Shut the hell up, I’ll do it.” He states it with so much conviction that Dazai almost believes him.
Dazai presses a kiss to Chuuya’s forehead. “You really are hopeless.” He teases
“Why am I hopeless?” He questions.
“Because only someone who’s hopeless would try so hard to save someone as hopeless as me.”
Inside the building they could hear people chanting-
“Have you considered you’re not as hopeless as you think?” He asks quietly, setting down his drink on a small table that was put out here.
“I think you’re giving yourself false hope.” Dazai remarks, looking down to avoid Chuuya’s unyielding gaze.
“Osamu, look at me.” Chuuya requests, cupping his face.
Dazai turned his face up to look at his husband.
“Nothing you say will make me give up on you.” He states it like a promise, Dazai’s not sure he deserves that.
“So stop trying.” He rests his head against Dazai’s, and the bandaged man can feel tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.
“I don’t deserve you.” Dazai whispers, voice cracking.
“Don’t say that, of course you do.” He kisses his nose.
Dazai musters a small smile. “I love you.”
Chuuya smiles back, bright, and real, and so beautiful. “I love you too, so much.”
“Now stop crying dumbass.” He chastises lightheartedly, wiping his tears with his thumb.
“Okay.” Dazai mumbles, sniffling.
Chuuya presses a kiss to his forehead.
The right under his left eye.
Then the same in the right side.
Dazai giggles. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to hear the laugh that I so love, and it’s working.” He whispers.
“We should probably head back inside with everyone else, huh?” Dazai asks, clearly not liking the idea.
“We can stay here.” The ginger states, stroking his husband cheeks.
He presses their foreheads together, and they both count with the crowd, though quieter, just for them to hear.
Chuuya presses his lips to his husband’s, his arms going around his neck as Dazai’s go around his waist.
Maybe the party wasn’t such a bad idea.
Still, Dazai couldn’t wait to go ho and have his Chibi all to himself.
I mean, it was new years, isn’t it suppose to be a night to remember?
He’d make sure it was one Chuuya would never forget.
