//hii, im rykno. this is a secondary account since i wna separate up the fandoms im in.. and sometimes i leave my phone up on the table so if people chance upon it theyre less likey to see this blog.........
My primary account's @rykkno (why why why can't we do that from secondary accounts? why tumblr why??)
short things that i think about willbe tagged under #mythoughts
if i decide to write fics, or if the thought is abit longer, ill tag it under #mywritting (yes, i spelled writting wrong)
anything non-snz will be tagged #notsnz since sometimes I'll talk about things in general
i dont rly know how to do masterlists.. haha
-open to asks- ill reply asap whajsj
anyway thats my hello for now, ill add things as i go along
A has their head on B's lap while they read aloud, they've been really into reading together lately, and A has been so excited to continue their current book. B, however, is coming down with a cold, and is having difficulty reading, their nose running and tickling like crazy, making them sniffle and sneeze so, so much. the state of their nose interrupting them frequently, and making it hard to focus. A is right in the spray zone every time B fails to cover their sneezes into their sleeve, sending spray all over A's face. from down on B's lap, A has a perfect view of B's nose, and can see their nostrils flare and twitch, as well as the snot trickling down onto their upper lip. B is stuttering and their breath hitching as they try to read during the build-up to yet another sneezing fit. A sits up slowly, takes the book from B's hand, places the bookmark on the page before closing the book and putting it aside. "i think it's time we take a break from reading and get you a hot steamy shower, then tucked into bed, hm?" A presses a kiss to B's slightly warm, clamy forehead, just before B leans forward and buries their nose into the crook of A's neck, letting out another messy fit of sneezes. "HIIH’NKXSHH! H'USSHHHIEW! HEH'KSHIEW!" A takes their shirt off, and holds it up to B's streaming nose, "blow for me" they instruct. B doesn't hesitate for even a moment before unleashing a long wet blow into A's shirt. "that's it. now, you go get in the shower, and i'll go boil the kettle for some tea afterwards. then, i'll come meet you in there, alright love?" A coos. B nods in response, followed by a stuffy "i thigk i m'bight have a cold" B sniffles. A chuckles softly, "oh, honey, you definitely have a cold. now, go on, get under the hot water." they plant a kiss on B's cheek and scurry off to the kitchen to boil the kettle, before joining their cold ridden partner in the shower.
if you wanted to try G/ojo with either 13 or 30 I'd be delighted!~ <3
(but ofc feel free not to <3 just if you'd like! ^^)
I hope I understood the dynamics well... I did number 13, I wanted to represent it in a single panel but the emotion got the better of me and I did more 🤡
well the idea was that due to a curse itadori would turn into a cute kitten...and gojo wants a photo to show it to everyone else...I wonder how everyone will react to the photo he sent them 🔥
I also wanted to write a long story about this... but as you know due to the language problem it would be almost impossible to do so, so I left everything to your imagination.😭
hii anon :> it's currently 1.30am let's see if i can cook a little smth up
"..Hih' NgT hh' eshh-w!"
Nanami stumbles into a classroom, praying that no one would walk by for the next few minutes.
Despite his best efforts - drinking lots of water, staying away from crowded areas, taking extra vitamin C, it had eventually caught up to him. Not that he thought he could run from it any longer.
He leans against the thin wall after sliding the door shut. Bringing a stray hand up to cover the bottom half of his face, Nanami swears that he could feel his nose twitch under his palm. He guesses it won't be long before-
Nanami sighs, not lowering his arm for one of two reasons. Firstly, he had ran through packets of tissues by the time lunch rolled around, and secondly-
"he'H- TchH! h'dtchh!!! hIH'zZsh-iw!!" ..He still needed to sneeze.
It takes all of his self control not to slump down against the wall. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Nanami closes his fist, letting it rest by his side. The moisture wrapped around his fingers was too much to think about right now.
Not when.. fuck- He swears the dust present in the classroom played a huge role in teasing the coming fit out of him.
Nanami reflexively brings an index up to his nose, pressing down on it firmly as he struggles to silent the oncoming fit.
"hih'nHgt! h'nght! 'gtch! t'ch, t'ch!!"
His eyes were tearing at this point, and Nanami had to carefully remove his protective glasses into his pocket. His fringe hung low over his eyes, having been tossed out of their usual style after waves of him snapping forward at the waist violently, courtesy of the cold.
He sighs, sniffling softly against the back of his wrist. No doubt the rims of his nose were tinted pink by now.
"So, are you going to say something? Or are you going to just stand there and enjoy my misery?" Nanami turns to the side slightly, glancing out of the window from the side of his eyes.
"Oh Nanamin! Whatever do you take me for?" Said intruder steps out from within the shadows. "I was simply waiting my turn! Those sneezes sure seemed to occupy most of your attention."
"How considerate.. even for you, Gojo-san. What are you doing here anyway?"
"Here!" Gojo lifts a plastic bag into the air, dangling it in the air for a while as he dramatically pointed at it. "Shoko asked me to pass these to you." He takes a box out of the bag.
"Masks."
"Yep! She said it was a precaution, given this little virus making its way through the school." Gojo smiles brightly, removing a single piece before thrusting it in Nanami's direction. "Though, I guess you don't really need it now, do you?"
Nanami sighs loudly, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as he steps out towards the other's outstretched arm.
"That's a lot of nerve. Especially coming from patient zero himself."
tada! This is for you, thanks for getting me into this show, and I hope i did alright.
ship: s/tolas x b/litz (i forgot the ship name)
s/tolitz?
disclaimer: they might be out of character since, well, i dont really know how to write dialogue but fuck it! am i right? also theres a true lack of snz in the fic, apologies for that, plot took over.
word count: 2k
---------------------------
"Pick the fuck up, you dick obsessed piece of shit-!" Blitz hurled his phone onto the ground, shattering it in the process. Seriously, this was like the fourth? Fifth? Sixth? time he broke one and it was always (mostly) due to that shitty bird.
It's not like he expected a whole reception for his monthly visit to the mansion to return the book, but it was unlike Stolas to just straight up ignore him for the past couple of days.
Not that he.. cared or anything like that, fuck no.
Well whatever, he might as well start scaling the walls if he planned to reach the bedroom anytime soon, an endeavor which would have been much easier if he wasn't lugging the huge book around.
Finally reaching the balcony, Blitz took a quick look around to check for security before ramming straight into the tainted glass windows.
What the fuck? Since when did he lock his doors? Stolas practically didn't care about his own safety, always shitting around and expecting someone to save his ass, it was annoying, really.
Tap tap. Tap tap tap tap. "STOLAS, BEFORE I BREAK THIS FUCKING SHIT DOWN YOU BETTER-"
"..Blitzy?"
To his left, Stolas peeked his head out of the ajar door. In silence, Blitz looked towards the window he was pounding, then at the door, then back at the window again.
"Oh so you still don't lock your doors." (completely ignoring the fact he tried opening a fixed window)
Inviting the imp into his room, Stolas returned to the edge of his bed, curling up in his sleeping robes. He was unsure why Blitz had come to visit, he was sure the full moon was not here for at least a few more nights.
"What? I got a stain on my shirt? Whyya looking at me like that?"
"Hm? Oh I was just wondering what you're doing here Blitzyy, breaking into my bedroom of all places especially-"
"Are you fucking serious Stolas? I'm here to return your damn book."
"O-Oh its that time of the month already?" Fuck he had been asleep longer than he thought.
"Yeah yeah poor you," Blitz mumbled, shoving the book back into its designated hole in the shelf. He then hopped off, starting the action of unbuttoning his shirt while walking towards the bed.
"Blitzy dear, what are you doing~?"
"Seriously, Stolas. Is this confusion act another one of your bird kinks? ..Eh you know what? You do whatever you want, I'm just here to do whatever I need to."
As Blitz advanced towards him, Stolas started back crawling deeper into the sheets, tripping over his robes in the process, leaving him pinned under the other's shadow.
"I uh, this might not be the best time Blizty, you see uh- well, Octavia is home tonight and I would hate to wake her up with, uh, well, sex sounds."
"Oh I can keep you quiet alright, just you watch."
"Oh! No, please! I could, well, we should, reschedule this, r-really. You see, I'm not really, uh, in the mood right now." Stolas forced out a smile, trying his best to ignore the little pulse of pain in his head.
"You serious? I lubed up and shit for this!" Blitz groaned, rolling his eyes as Stolas feebly struggled against his hold. "What's with all these fallen feathers anyway," he gestured towards the mass of fluffies all over the bed. "Been sleeping with someone else?"
"Oh Heavens no."
"Masturbating, then?"
"Oh never! Not when I have a glorious imp dick such as y'hh! yours!" With a sudden burst of strength, Stolas pushed Blitz's weight off of him, rolling to the side to stand. "But seriously Blitzy, you should go."
"I didn't come all this way just to be turned down by-"
"hih-'tshh! 'tcshh!"
"some-"
"ng'tshH!"
"cock hungry-"
"snff- ungh"
"Hey uh, you okay there?" Blitz asked, his voice tinged with a hint of worry. Normally, he wouldn't have got so far in his speech before Stolas would completely take over, ramping up the horniness to the maximum before pulling his pants down.
"Just f-fine darling~" Stolas laughed in response, though his voice sounded strained to say the least.
"Hmm.." Blitz scurried up behind the other, pulling on his arm when he won't look his way. "Nah you're hiding something. No horny remark, no dirty talk of how much you want to be dicked, something is wrong here, Stolas. You held at gun point or something?" Blitz climbed up the bedframe to reach Stolas' eyelevel. "Need me to off someone for you?"
"Noo, oh no, of course not! Just-"
"Just?"
"I've just been, well.. feeling a little unwell, that's all."
"Oh that's all?" Blitz hopped off the bed pole. "Gotcha, I'll get my guys at I.M.P to send over another care package to you. How was the last one we sent? Good enough?"
"It was.. brilliant. The fork really.. helped. Uh, soo Blizty? Could we discuss a reschedule of this.. thing?" It hadn't occurred to Stolas that moving their fuck-date to another night would mean the other takes his leave now.
"Hm? Yeah of course, but what's there to discuss? I'll come down a few days later to pick up the book and fuck you. Sounds good? Great, alright. I'll uh, see you then."
Before Blitz could take even a single step towards the balcony, a thin hand reached out to stop him.
"W-Wait!"
"What?"
"Oh! Uh, sorry." Stolas released his grip, brushing his hand awkwardly on his robe. His body had acted subconsciously. He had not meant to do that. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to stay over for the niii-dinner! Dinner. Well I've not had dinner yet, so whaddayousay?"
"Fine."
"Oh please Blitzy, it would- wait. What did you say?"
"I said fine. Now, can you actually cook or are we just going to eat cereal again?"
-
And so cereal for dinner it was, if you could even call it dinner. To Blitz, it was more akin to watching Stolas struggle and fail to stay awake every 30 seconds. His head feathers (hair?) was a mess, puffing out in several angles that could normally only be achieved after a night of rough sex.
"S-Stolas look. If you wanna go to bed, you can just go."
"But I've been doing nothing but sleep for the past few dayys Blitzy, I wna spend time awake with youu."
"You're being fucking weird." Blitz stood, picking Stolas up with minimal effort. "Look, I came here to fuck you and that's it. I'm not your dinner date or your playmate, okay?"
"I know.." But truly, it was unsure at all if the bird was really listening or not. "I've just been so lon- and I just wanted to hav- around to make me fee-" the ruffle of the blanket drowned out Stolas' mumbles as Blitz deposited him back in bed. And to think the owl was actually older than him.
"Blitzy, would you stay the night?"
"I thought you wanted to reschedule?"
"Yes but well.." Stolas shyly thumbs the blanket between his fingers, "we don't have to have sex."
"Then what's the point?"
"..."
Receiving no reply, Blitz made his way to the balcony, hopping onto the railing and preparing a quick jump down. Despite himself, he casts a quick glance back at the owl, brows furrowing as he watches Stolas turn to his side, the blankets curling around him into a small tight ball.
Ugh fuck.
As Stolas miserably tried to fall back to sleep, he suddenly felt a dip in the mattress as if something of substantial weight was placed on it. Tilting his head a little to check what it was, he could barely contain the squeak of delight when his eyes landed on Blitz.
"Yeah yeah, don't get your feathery ass in a twist, I'll stay for the night, whatever, no biggie." Blitz flipped over to face the window. "It's not like I have anything else to do. M&M are sleeping, the book is with you, and Loona is not going to appreciate me coming home this early when I specifically told her I'd be gone for the night."
"Thank you, Blitzy."
"Mhm, you're welcome." Ignoring the fact that Stolas' eyes were staring holes into the back of his head, Blitz closed his eyes, crossed his arms, and tried to fall asleep.
-
"hh' hih!- nhh~"
Stolas pulled the blanket over his beak, trying to muffle out the little sniffles he was forced to make. Dammit, the excessive sleep was making his head woozy, yet he was still somehow too tired to get up and do things.
Looking over at Blitz, he was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to pull the little imp under his covers into a hug. But Blitz was already going out of his way to stay here, so Stolas cuddled into his blankets instead.
"hH! ..hih'nngchiew! ..sorry."
This was bad. Stolas knew, (more so than anyone else, of course), that his sneezes came in fits, itchy ones that didn't want to stop the moment they started. Usually, this little tidbit of his was nothing more than an inconvenience, something that he dealt with by himself at home, with the occasional help of a feather.
But now, oh how could fate do him like this, Blitz was in the room. More so than simply 'in the room', at that, for he was a mere inches away, within cuddle's grasp.
Stolas groaned, beating his fists lightly against the mattress in annoyance, causing a small bundle of feathers to fly up. It's definitely a sight to behold. Normally, someone would come by his chambers to sweep up the feathers. But since he had put a strict 'no entry' order on his bedroom since 3 days ago..
"hiH' atchhw!!"
..One of them was unfortunate enough to land directly on the tip of his beak.
"Bless you."
"Oh-!" Stolas jolts up. "I thought you were already asleep my dear."
"How could I, when you're beathing behind me like a broken vacuum cleaner someone mistook for a fleshlight so they're shoving it down their dicks wondering why there's so much blood everywhere after they cum."
"That's- oddly specific."
"Yeah well, it happens to the best of us. My point is, sigh, if you need to sneeze, you should just do it. No need to make yourself suffer more than necessary."
"Yes, but it's impolite, and-"
"I've licked feathers off your asshole before, so don't come to me talking about this whole impolite shit."
"Well, yes Blitzy, but this is different!"
"Oh yeah?" Blitz's voice held a challenging tone. "And why's that? You know, I've read somewhere before that sneezing and getting off gives that similar rush of pleasure."
"From one of my books, perhaps?"
"Ah great, so you've read the same one."
"I suppose I have, but Blitzy-"
"SooO, maybe we won't have to reschedule after all."
"Whatever do you mea- ah-!" Before he could process what had happened, Stolas felt someone flip him over onto his back. Blinking, he watched as Blitz straddled him, expecting the weight of the imp to settle on his ribcage, the same way it would whenever he was being bondaged for sex.
But it never came.
It later occurred to Stolas that Blitz was putting his weight onto his own knees rather than sitting on him. Whether on accident or on purpose in attempt to look out for him, a light blush dusted the owl's cheeks.
He was thankful that imps can't see in the dark.
-
'Let's get started, shall we?"
"S-Started with what, Blitzyy?"
Tired of answering his stupid questions, Blitz reached for a feather in the dark. Once he found one, he held it between his fingers, lifting it up to barely above Stolas' nose.
"With this." Letting go, Blitz shot out both his hands to Stolas' wrists, pinning them against the mattress as the feather slowly glided down.
Tilting his head to avoid the feather proved futile as Blitz's tail whipped out from behind him to hold it in place.
"B-Blitzy.. hh'! I- need myhH'! -hands bhhH'-ack n-now.."
"Not unless ya-"
"hihh! -gssht!" The sneeze caused Stolas to curl in onto himself, his thighs bumping into Blitz, making him loose his balance and fall onto the owls' chest.
Arms finally free, Stolas lifts one to his beak, sniffling softly.
"S'hh-orry darling~ It's just- hH'! hih'Ngxtt-w! ..ow-" Stolas flips onto his side, Blitz still against his chest. "It appears my nose is rather painful."
"Yeah no shit, with the way you've been treating it." Blitz pokes Stolas' chest fur accusingly. "Ever heard of a tissue?" When he was replied with silence, Blitz rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket to look for some. "Here you fucking g-"
"..hHt' zzscht-iw!!" Stolas sniffled into his wrist, laughing softly as he felt Blitz jolt up in shock. "I'm sorry dear, that one snuck up on me."
"Don't worry about it, it's not like I've never been covered in your bodily fluids before." Blitz shrugged, handing the other a pocket tissue he happened to have on his person. "Here."
"..Blitzyy~ why are you handing me a condom? You know I don't have a d-"
"Oh. Shit, wrong thing. That one's for me, was for me, for tonight."
"Mm, right, right. I'm sorry that you had to come all this way for nothing Blitzy. You know what? How about you keep the book for the whole of next month hm? Save yourself the trouble of coming down?"
"Right. But you know, I actually don't quite mind the trouble." He watches in annoyance as Stolas does nothing more than press the tissue to his beak. "Ever heard of blowing?"
"Oh my Blitzy~ right now?"
"What the-? Oh fuck you! Not everything is about sex you perverted bird!"
"Well yes," Stolas went silent, and for a moment Blitz thought he was going to sneeze again. "But I am glad you're here, Blitzy, even if- especially, when we're not having sex."
"Right, keep saying that and I might start to believe it's true."
"But it is true. I love you Blitzy~"
"That fever's making you talk crazy." Blitz sighed, pressing his palm against Stolas' forehead, ignoring how the other leaned into him. "Just- rest, okay? Get better soon so I don't have to send that stupid care package, shit takes money you know?"
"Mm, whatever you say Blitzy." Stolas pulled the other in and under the covers, tucking his chin between Blitz's horns with a soft croon.
And Blitz, despite himself, didn't try to struggle free. Even with their monthly rendezvous, the pair rarely cuddled. This was different, it was nice, even if Stolas was warm, (hot), and delusional from his fever.
Imps are immune to fire after all.
And of course, the care package still arrives the next day.
-end-
--------------------
Notes: if anyone's wondering, i'd place this fic (in terms of in-universe timeline), somewhere where blitz and stolas are still in pretense
Thank you all so much for reading!
(and for my very special friend, happy birthday!) heres to waiting for hh s2 and for stolas and blitz to break up!
small disclaimer: if i wrote v/al in a way that made him soft/likeable just know im not excusing any of his actions okay? okay.
also, theres H/azbin-H/otel-Universe level of cussing in here, just as a warning.
word count: 1k
-----------------------------------
"I can't FUCKING post anything with this shitty signal, so you're going to go down there and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!"
"Woah, woah Velvette, since when was babysitting added on my list?"
"He deals with your shit all the time, so just grow a pair and return the favour."
"Alright, alright, but you owe me one."
-
-
-
"Vox, is everything-" Valentino stepped into the control room, narrowly avoiding a spark that flew through one of the wires as the lights flickered above.
"Bad time Val, I'm not in the mood for your shit right now." A tired voice came from the center of all the buzzing screens.
"Well I hate to be the one who spoils all the fun dear, you know that." Valentino crosses the bridge to reach other platform. "But I really need you to stop fucking with all the lights in my studio, I'm only filming a sex-in-the-dark kink next week and now's a tad bit early."
"I don't c-care about your sex studio" Vox replied without turning around.
Valentino smirked when he heard the static in the other's voice. It was always entertaining to annoy vox whenever he was in this state. The reactions he got were simply.. electric.
"Soo, what are you working on this time?"
"Nobody's buying our fucking product, Val." Vox turns around, a hand propping his head up, looking clearly pissed off. "I don't know.. I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
Valentino raises an eyebrow. It was rare to see Vox admit defeat such readily. "Want me to help?"
"Uh, fuck no? Did you really think I'd have forgotten the kind of stunt you pulled the last time I let you assist me? The moment that shit got aired it look less than a day for hospitals to be filled with sinners who got that remote stuck up their ass."
"Hmm, how was that my fault in particular?"
"You promoted it as a f-FUCKING dildo!" A spark flew from one of the wires tied to vox as his voice glitched out once again.
"But it did sell, didn't it?"
Vox groans, swiveling his chair back around to face the panel. "If there's nothing else, I have a meeting in five." He gets up, mutely pulling on his bowtie before turning around with a sigh. "Why are you here again?"
"You're upset about something," Valentino explains in a whiny tone. "It's fucking with everyone in the building and has apparently become my job to calm you down." While talking, he circles around Vox, putting a finger under his chin while his other hands wrap around his waist. "Want me to help.. ease the tension?"
While this normally would have worked, Valentino never expected Vox to push him away, a hand rubbing the smudges off his screen.
"Not today. I have an image to uphold. Go fuck with some of your whores or something."
Valentino frowns, but says nothing else.
"Now," Vox says, taking in a breath, "if you'll excuse me." He steps back with a mock half-bow, body turning into electricity as he zaps himself into the nearby circuit.
Valentino stares blankly at the buzzing televisions, sighing as he pulls out a cigarette. As he turns to light it, the wires in front of him flash and sizzle as a bright blue bolt of electricity strikes directly in front of him.
As the smoke clears, Valentino blinks at a very disorientated Vox who struggles to sit up from his position; face-flat against the floor.
"Are you-"
"What the fuck? That has never happened before."
"Clearly." Valentino rolls his eyes, but proceeds to offer his shoulder, which Vox unconsciously leans into. "A rat got to the wires?"
"No, I ran out of energ-" Vox started, then stopped. "I forgot one of my documents and had to come back."
Valentino watched, unamused as Vox nearly fell over if it wasn't for the table holding him up. He side-eyes the other, ears picking up the obvious sounds of Vox's internal fans overworking to keep his head at a normal temperature.
He places a hand on the back of his head, not missing the way Vox flinches. Despite himself, Valentino wanted to do something to help. But 'help' wasn't in his list of strong suits, so he figured he'd do it in a way that was.
"Voxxy~ want to have sex?"
A spark of electricity jumps from Vox's antenna to the other.
He took that as an unspoken yes. "Will you cancel the meeting for that?" Valentino wraps his lower arm around Vox. "I had to dismiss all my actors thanks to the power-outage you caused." He notices how Vox looks away at the mention of the power failure. "So take responsibility."
Vox slouches over. "I'm not-"
"Oh you don't have to do anything," Valentino reaches out to pinch Vox's cheek. "I'll top today. Or do you want to have control?"
"No, it's fine. I'll cancel my meeting." The relief in his voice was unintentionally obvious.
"Can you make it to the bedroom? Or do you want to rawdog it here?"
Vox grumbles, but makes no effort to push Valentino away when the moth opens one of wings to wrap around him.
They walk side by side, Valentino's wing tightening around Vox when they crossed the bridge together, preventing the possibility of his legs going numb and falling into the void.
It was admittedly nice whenever Valentino would act like he genuinely cared. Vox was sure he did, despite how they seemed to be in more of a duo-benefiting sexual relationship most of the time.
On his part, Vox tells himself, he too was taking advantage of Val's offer for sex to skip his meeting.
..That was all there was to it.
-end-
---------------------
i might make a part 2 where i struggle through the process of making vox snz despite his lack of nose.
Summary: basically c/huuya gets sick and d/azai takes care of him, very cliche
Ship: s/kk
Notes: my first b/sd fic. honestly i never intended to write one, but here we are. This fic was drafted Sept 21 2023 and wow that's been awhile huh.
They might be a little ooc here since i'm trying my hand at their characterisation for the first time. Apologies in advance for any mistakes!
also i figured ild add this in here but this fic is sickfic>snzfic so there isnt much of that kinda stuff here
Word count: 4.5k
------------------------------------------------
"Chuuya, rest."
The red markings on Chuuya's arm slowly disappeared as he fell to the floor in a soft grunt. Letting go of his arm down in an action of indifference, Dazai stepped over his sprawled out body.
"Took you long enough, honestly. It was almost like you were taking your own sweet time, don't want me to touch you that badly?"
When he was met with no response, Dazai sighed dramatically.
"Chibi? Oi, are you dead? You're not allowed to go before me, you know that. Oi!"
He turns back, this time with an eyebrow raised at the unmoving Chuuya-lump on the floor. Seriously? He would've expected the slug to reply with a "I'll kill you first" or a punch of sorts.
Chuuya was never quite as energetic after using Corruption, but this silence was new.
And so Dazai does the next most logical thing, which was to kick him with the edge of his shoe, once, twice, thrice- Alright, something was wrong.
Doing a quick check of his surroundings for any passersby (god forbid anyone from the Port Mafia or the ADA see what he was about to do next), Dazai knelt down next to Chuuya's body, flipping him onto his back.
"Oi Chibi!"
When he was met with no response, Dazai seriously considered leaving Chuuya in the middle of what used to be the battlefield. Surely someone would find him eventually, right?
It was how it always was, how it always has been.
Though.. there was no one in their vicinity at the moment, and it won't hurt to check Chuuya's vitals, to make sure the idiot didn't actually die on him.
Two fingers were swiftly placed under Chuuya's chin, and- Fever. Dazai was fairly sure that he felt fever under his fingers.
There was a steady heartbeat too, so that was good at least.
But a fever? Surely he was imagining it. Yes, Chuuya tended to run a little hot, both in his temperature and in his temper (although most of the time it was directed at Dazai himself), but there was no mistaking the heat that he was radiating.
This time, the pair of bandaged hands reached for Chuuya's shoulders, giving him a couple shakes, which proved successful as he heard the other below him let out a soft groan.
"..D'zai?"
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Immediately knowing what Dazai was referring to, Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows into a frown. "Idiot, it's none of your concern. Just take me back home."
Dazai opened his mouth to complain, but stopped when he saw Chuuya's eyes slide back shut. Seriously? Seriously. It was not the first time Chuuya had made a similar request, and it would also not be the first time if Dazai just walked off into the distance, leaving him there alone.
Despite that, Dazai always made sure that Chuuya was okay before he abandoned the other. Did this count as 'okay'?
And so,
"You owe me one.." Dazai caved, reaching out to lift Chuuya onto his back. He considered for a second just grabbing Chuuya by his ankles, dragging him home that way. Admittedly, Dazai did almost do that, if not for the time limit they had before someone would eventually arrive at the scene.
So draped over his back it was. Chuuya's apartment wasn't far, he could make it.
Gathering the fallen coat and hat (regrettably, Dazai did indeed resign and picked it up), he disappeared behind the trees.
====================================
The journey back was eerily silent. Given the relationship between the two, it was a surprise. No bickering, no fighting, just the steady but heavy sound of footsteps coming from Dazai.
He could hear, could feel Chuuya breathing behind him, but worry still found its way into his head. Not that that was important or anything.
Dazai whined. "You're really heavy you know.."
(Talk to me, say something snarky back.)
Dazai attempted a weak insult. "Never been this high off the floor before huh? It's a whole new view from way up here."
(Open your eyes, please.)
He felt stupid talking to himself.
==================================
Chuuya's front door. He hasn't been here in a long while, and it definitely was not the first time he came uninvited. But this didn't count, did it? Chuuya had asked him to bring him home.
Key. Just focus on getting the door open.
Lowering himself to the ground, Dazai propped Chuuya's body up against the door. Now, where would Chibi put his key..
When both coat pockets came up empty, Dazai eyed Chuuya's unconscious body. Should he try searching for the keys on him?
Then, he remembered a moment they shared together, one where they had headed to Chuuya's place after a mission years ago, when Dazai was still in the Port Mafia.
They had gotten thrown around quite a bit that day, and as fun as it was, Chuuya's key seemed to have been shaken right out of his pocket. Exhausted, they had fallen asleep right by the steps leading up to the door, seemingly forgetting that Chuuya could have blasted through the window if he really wanted to.
Dazai dropped the coat on Chuuya's lap, turning to the pots of plants outside the house. Seriously? He was surprised the plants were even still alive.
As obvious at that spot would have been, Dazai found the key he was looking for under a pot of cacti. He unlocked the door, hauling Chuuya's body in with him.
The living room was a familiar sight. The couch was in the same position, and so was the dining table. It was as if all those years had never passed.
Dazai looked at the body sprawled across the floor.
So what now? Should he leave? Chuuya hadn't asked him to do anything else, not that he would have complied anyway.
..He would probably be much more comfortable lying on the couch. Yeah, he could do that.
Dazai looked at the body sprawled across the couch.
So what now? Why wasn't he moving to leave? Chuuya probably didn't want to open his eyes only for Dazai to be the first thing he sees.
..That thought alone almost made him sit down and wait for Chuuya to wake up.
However, a small whine dragged Dazai out of his scheming. When he looked down, there was a pained expression on Chuuya's face. Even in the dimmed lights, Dazai could partially make out the feverish flush on the other's cheeks.
..He could wet a towel for Chuuya. Yeah, he could do that.
And so Dazai stands up, making his way to bathroom. Just being in the room brought back a few memories. All the times that he would sit, propped up against the sink as they tended to each other's wounds after a mission.
Dazai pulls open one of the cupboards below the sink in search for a towel, and that's when he freezes.
All the way to the back of the compartment, there was a small stack of bandages, the same ones that Dazai liked to use. But why? Chuuya rarely got injured, and if he did, like heck he was using those bandages. Knowing him, Chuuya would probably just walk it off.
Maybe he just didn't want to throw away the leftovers. Yeah, that was it.
He found a towel after that. Wetting and wringing it, Dazai stepped back into the living room. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Chuuya's open bedroom door.
A peek inside would never hurt, right?
Making a slight detour, Dazai popped his head into the doorway. Surprisingly (or maybe not), everything looked pretty much the same. The bed was still haphazardly made in a sort of neat, Chuuya way.
A stray hat sat in the center of his desk. Dazai couldn't contain his eye roll.
He approached the table, his eye catching onto a dull shine of metal. It was a tablet tray of pills. He flipped it over. Paracetamol. And it was half empty.
So the fever wasn't a recent thing.
===================================
He hoped the wet towel would help.
Chuuya never fell sick often, and when he did, he was rather augmentative and closed off. To Dazai, that was Chuuya just being Chuuya, so he never treated the other differently in those moments, not that they happened often enough for him to act any other way.
So this was new. It wasn't an unpleasant type of new, just a little awkward. It was never quiet when Chuuya was around, unless they were sleeping, and Dazai was wide awake.
Maybe he should busy himself with cooking something. Cook. For Chuuya.
..What where they? Married? Dazai felt his tongue stick out at the thought. But still, he got up and headed for the kitchen.
Maybe he should try poisoning Chuuya's portion. That would be fun to watch. Unfortunately, he didn't have any vials on him at the moment.
Even better, he could pretend that he did something to the food.
That thought alone gave Dazai the motivation to look through the fridge. In the main compartment, all he found was alcohol. The second eye roll of the day ghosted his face. Chuuya was a lightweight after all.
Moving to the vegetables drawer, he was pleasantly surprised to see it filled. He never took Chuuya as someone who knew how to cook. Dazai himself normally ate at the cafe downstairs with the rest of the agency.
Though.. on the off-chance that someone would cook for the whole office, those meals always felt a little more homey.
Picking a variety of vegetables, Dazai turned towards the kitchen, sliding the door shut behind him.
========================================
It was at that moment that Chuuya decided to wake up. He knew he was at home, on his couch? What happened?
Fuck. His head hurt. His limbs hurt. There was something pressing his head down. Lifting a heavy arm, Chuuya reached for the item on his forehead.
A damp cloth?
That idiot Dazai probably put it there. Sleeping gas? It made sense, since he was knocked out for so long..
Or at least it felt long; with how sore his neck was feeling from lying flat on his back. Couldn't the bandaged disaster at least be considerate enough to put a pillow under his head?
..Come to think of it, Dazai did carry him home, which was a far cry from what he normally did to begin with. Whatever, he'd let it slide.
"..snff-"
"..hH'!! hAH'gGnshH-w!! G'nNEsHH!!"
So that's what he would have to deal with for a few days, huh. He had really thought it had been nothing more than a slight fever.
Maybe using Corruption had made it worse.
"..hiH'!! hH- hhH'!! h'ERrshH!"
When he sniffled into the back of his palm, Chuuya found that he could hardly get any air through. This sucked.
A shower might help.
=====================================
In the closed kitchen, Dazai barely heard Chuuya's movements as he reached for a knife. Staring at it, he pondered for a moment if he should just-
No. Chuuya would kill him if the white counter was stained with his blood. It would give the shorty a good scare, but his fun could wait.
While it wasn't his first time chopping vegetables, it certainly had been awhile. Still, the carrrots, potatoes and corn were all sliced up in minutes. He didn't brag about his dexterous fingers for nothing.
And if the knife came too close to his fingers too many times, no it didn't.
Throwing all the ingredients into the simmering pot, Dazai poured in some chicken stock. He didn't know how much was the recommended amount, so half the carton would have to do.
Besides, there was no way he'd even look at the instructions behind. He was already cooking for the chibi, he didn't want to have to read for him too.
Dazai stared at the stove.
..What now?
---
The moment Chuuya stripped off his clothes, he had to grab the edge of the sink as he was hit by a dizzy spell. Fair, he did get up from the couch rather abruptly. He hadn't eaten since the morning either.
He was shivering, despite the buckets of sweat he produced in the recent battle.
Chuuya hated falling sick, hated the weakness and vulnerability that came with it. He was supposed to be the one who people depended on. How could he protect anyone when he could barely even stand straight?
Without his strength there was little use for him.
"..hH'!! H'gKsHHew! heH'DzzchH!!"
And there was that too.. but at least this part of his forming cold proved that he was human. The inability of controlling his sneezes.
In any case, he should get into the shower quickly before his thoughts got the better of him.
Scalding hot water.
==================================
Surely the pot should not be boiling that heavily. Dazai stared at it, wondering how the surface would feel under his fingers should he touch it. The fleeting thought brought a smile to his face.
A rather rough bunch of bubbles almost caused the lid to fly off entirely. He should probably turn the fire down.
A gentle, warm aroma slowly filled the kitchen. Dazai estimated that it would be ready in a couple tens of minutes.
Perfect, he could use that time to-
The kitchen door slides open.
..To check on-
"Chuuya?"
The couch was empty. Did someone break into the house to steal him? Dazai didn't remember locking the door. Chuuya was really compact and pocket-sized too, but who would want to kidnap that feisty thing?
So of course, he deduced that Chuuya probably moved himself somewhere else.
"Chibi?"
Dazai stepped into the hallway, his gaze casting down upon the trail of water leading from the bathroom to is bedroom.
Seriously, did Chuuya not know that towels exist? Someone could slip and fall and die here! Someone like Dazai himself!
Playing with the possibility of such a humorous death, Dazai followed the trail to the room, poking his head into the doorway for the second time that day.
With the ends of his feet barely touching the edge of the bed, Chuuya laid in the center, neck tilted back on the pillow, snoring softly.
It was a familiar sight, Dazai noticed himself staring. The bed was once big enough for the two of them.
Not now, of course, Dazai muses. Even if Chuuya hadn't grown an inch, he sure did. There was no way they'd fit on the mattress together now.
..Not that he wanted to or anything. No, definitely not.
Chuuya's hair was still damp, and there was a strained expression on his sleeping face. Moving by himself, Dazai reached for the neatly folded blanket by the foot of the bed.
=====================================
1hr later:
Chuuya woke with the edge of his blanket pressed under his nose. He didn't remember pulling it up. After he took a shower, his body was too exhausted to do anything but collapse facedown into the pillows
Or.. maybe he had done that. Chuuya lived alone, there was no way someone else had done it instead.
"..hIH'NgtxchhH!! haH'gtcHH-w!" That being said, it was still way too cold even with the blanket covering him.
He rubbed the back of his fist against his nose roughly before tossing around in bed, annoyed.
Everything felt too stuffy, too hot. He was hungry too. Maybe some takeout would be good for today.
Chuuya stretched out a tired hand, groping around for his phone. Finding nothing, he sighed, faintly remembering that his coat was still outside on the floor somewhere.
"..hih'hA-Ngxt!!"
Guess he won't be getting any food today, then. Chuuya prided himself as a strong, capable man, but when it came down to times like these, he was willing to be weak.
As long as he was alone.
=======================================
Dazai looks up towards the bedroom, eyes flickering between the television screen and the hallway.
Despite himself, he was still at Chuuya's apartment, nevermind that an entire hour has passed.
Instead of wandering around, Dazai chooses to set up the gaming station below the television. He and Chuuya used to go on at it for hours against each other.
"Take this!"
"Not so fast, Chuuya. You think you can beat me that easily??"
There was a layer of dust sitting on top of console, showing obvious signs of disuse. His old controller was laid against it next to Chuuya's, the plastic worn down and peeling.
Lost in his daydream, Dazai barely manages to catch the smell of ready-soup coming from the kitchen. Now to get a couple bowls.
Transferring the soup into them should have been an easy task, if Dazai had remembered that heat existed. Well, excuse him for trying to pick up the pot with his bare hands and pouring it into the bowl, it's not like he cooked on a regular basis, or knew that there was a special spoon for such occasions known as the ladle.
Whatever the case, it took all but a few minutes to find a tray, put the bowls on it, and walk out of the kitchen.
==================================
Maybe he should have sucked it up and went to get his phone, Chuuya thinks and he stares at the ceiling. His stomach was screaming at him to fill it up with something, anything.
He stares at the stain next to the lightbulb and scowls. Years ago, the bulb and blown a fuse and needed repairing. But like hell Chuuya was going to put the stepladder on his bed, even if he was too short to reach it otherwise.
Thankfully, Dazai had shown up like a Saint at the time and fixed it for him, not without leaving his mark, of course. Like a damn animal he marked the ceiling with a dusty handprint that Chuuya could never clean off.
His fever must be off the charts if its enough to make him recall anything that had to do with his ex-partner. If Chuuya had had the strength at that moment, he would've slapped himself silly. That being said, he could probably wrap a damp cloth around the end of a long pole and bring it up to the stain to-
"ChUuYA!!"
"oH FUCK!"
Jumping out of his skin high enough that maybe he didn't need that pole after all, Chuuya sits up in his bed. His pillow, the blanket, the chair, his hat, everything glowed red and was ready to be used as a weapon.
"DAZAI, WHAT THE FUCK?!"
"Aw Chuuyaa~ That's the kind of greeting I get even when I'm trying to do something nice? You're lucky I'm touching this tray, or it might've went up with all the other things and split all my hard work!!"
"Never mind the fucking tray! What are you doing here?"
Dazai opens his mouth, a tone of mockery already ready at the tip of his tongue, yet nothing came out. Chuuya was right, what was he doing here? How would he explain why he was carrying soup to Chuuya in bed without the other thinking he had lost his mind?
Come to think of it, he didn't even know himself why he was doing this.
Chuuya stares at the Dazai in his room. Seriously, what was he thinking? Coming over uninvited like that, especially knowing the state he was in right now. There was no way this was a planned move to take him out at his weakest. As shitty as Dazai was, Chuuya knew at the back of his mind that the other would never harm him intentionally without the confidence that he won't die from it.
So that only left one explanation, one that Chuuya refused to even entertain - that Dazai was actually trying to take care of him. He almost laughs at the thought.
And he might've, if this was another day in which he wasn't hazed in fever. Plus the silence was getting awkward, so Chuuya forced himself to say something.
"..I'm not interested in your answer anyway. So are you coming in or not? You're being an eyesore just standing in the middle of my room."
"A tall eyesore?" Dazai chirped back, his behavior instantly returning to normal once he was in his element, (that being in a state in which he endlessly makes fun of Chuuya).
"Yeah yeah, a tall eyesore that he trying to poison me. Is this the Agency's masterplan after all? Poison?"
"Me?!" Dazai dramatically puts his hand on his forehead. "Poisoning you?? Before I use the poison on myself to end my own miserable life? Oh ChuUya, you should know me better than that!"
"Whatever. Just give it to me." Chuuya rolls his eyes, snatching a bowl over and eyeing it suspiciously. "You went through all the trouble of buying takeout?"
"Of course not! Why would I ever do so much for a slug like you?"
"So then you cooked for me." It was phrased more like a statement than a question, and for the second time that night, Dazai didn't know what to say.
"The uh- the knife. It looked tempting."
"Uh-huh. Bet it sure was difficult to keep all 10 of your fingers intact."
"You know me so well!"
"..Right." With the conversation not going any further, Chuuya picks up the spoon, stirring the liquid gently. It smelt good, and the steam coming from the bowl really helped to loosen up the congestion in his nose.
Which was good, but also bad timing, as Chuuya was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to sneeze. Hitching ever so slightly, he turns to face the wall, using his skill to control the gravity of the mucus such that it wouldn't irritate his nose even more as it threatened to drip out.
The last thing he wanted was to give Dazai something else to make fun of him for.
It was silent for a moment as Chuuya lifts the spoon to his lips.
"..."
"What?"
"..."
"I swear I did not poison the soup."
"No- it's not that. The soup.. it tastes.. good."
Dazai stares at Chuuya as if he'd grown an extra head. "..Chibi's lying!"
"I'm not, you idiot. Sigh, why do I even try?"
Before Chuuya could even shake his head in exasperation, a flash of brown jumps his soup.
"What are you doi-!?"
Dazai grabs onto Chuuya's arm, somehow managing to miraculously not spill a drop as he grabs onto the spoon to try a sip.
This is bad. Bells rang in Chuuya's head as he felt his skill get nullified by Dazai's.
"M-hH!!" Move! He wanted to scream, would have, if the tickle in his nose wasn't this extreme.
Well, the suicide maniac asked for it anyway.
"Hh'! HNNgxt! ..hA'DzzchH!!" Chuuya gasps, pressing a wrist tightly against his nose. "hIH' gZZtchH!!"
"Chuuya is so rough with himself!"
"Don't talk like you're not the one who c'hh!-caused this!"
"Really," Dazai started, brushing a bit of his arm that had been in the crossfire of the spray upon his pants. "If anything Chibi's the one who caused this onto himself."
"Hah? The fuck did you say?"
"Now now-" Dazai places his index finger directly between Chuuya's furrowed eyebrows. "I'm not the one who decided to use corruption through a fever and then pass out in front of everyone."
Chuuya clenches his teeth, swatting the other's arm away. "Don't talk like you don't make shitty decisions all the time, suicide-obsessed mackerel."
"Slug."
"Why do you even care anyway?!" the porcelain bowl cracks under his grip. "You never had before so don't act like you do now."
Dazai opened his mouth to answer with a witty remark, but nothing came out. This outburst was different from the rest that Chuuya normally gave him. Insults, he could handle, but this? What was he supposed to say to that?
'Yeah I don't care about you?' 'No I do care about you?' One was a lie and one made him sound like a bottom.
Chuuya just stared at the bowl in his hand, watching as the soup drip, drip, dripped down his forearm. He knows what he said wasn't true, the fact that Dazai stayed was evidence enough.
Fucking fever, always making him say the wrong sh-
"I'm sorry."
The fuck? Chuuya snaps his head upwards, looking at Dazai from between the strands of hair that had fallen over his face. He scanned the other's expression, expecting something akin to a smirk. But there was none.
"I mean- Well! I'll leave Chibi to his tacky hats then." Dazai suddenly says, his voice lively yet strained. He reaches for the stray hat on the table, putting upon Chuuya's head and pulling the brim over his eyes.
Annoyed, Chuuya whips the damn thing off his head, prepared to shove it into Dazai's chest. But by the time he looks back at the other, all that could be seen was the tips of Dazai's coat-tails rounding out of his bedroom door.
"Hey wai-" Tears shot to Chuuya's eyes as he choked on air. With one leg on the floor and the other still nestled under the covers, he bent over coughing violently as his lungs struggled to comprehend what the fuck just happened.
His throat was burning. There was no way he could catch up to Dazai now.
-
After what seemed like forever, Chuuya's lungs finally decided to restart, allowing him to breathe in his first huge breath of air. Through blurry eyes, he barely managed to focus on the mess of beige in front of him.
"Chibi's so small he choked on air molecules?"
"Ah fuck you," Chuuya mumbled. He grabbed the glass of water Dazai held out for him, purposely avoiding eye-contact to prevent the other from noticing his shock and gratitude.
"You're welcome~ aand, you should probably put that down," referring to the bowl of soup that was barely holding itself together.
'Right." Chuuya placed it upon the tray. "Well," this was awkward. Just 2 minutes ago they were at each other's throats, and now they were.. staring at the ground in silence. "..I should, wash these. Plus you probably wrecked the kitchen, so I'll- yeah."
"Chuuya- are you sure you should-" Dazai started, then stopped.
Curse being partners for years, Chuuya knew what he meant even before he started. "It's just a cold, idiot. I'll be fine washing dishes. Stop cari- ahem. You look like shit, go shower or something."
When he got no reply, Chuuya continued. "There's bandages below the sink you can use, and- well. There's a set of clothes your size somewhere in my cupboard."
And this, snaps Dazai out of his silent trance. "So ChuuUya was planning a sleepover behind my back?"
"It was for emergencies, dammit! If you ever needed somewhere safe to stay, or something." Leaving it as that, Chuuya briskly walks out of the room, leaving Dazai to his own thoughts.
-
The bandages, Dazai later notices, were manufactured a mere 2 years ago, right when he had joined the Detective Agency, back when Chuuya had no way of knowing if he was alive or not.
But he still thought about me. Still bought them with a chance that I would use them someday.
"You even got my favourite brand, Chibi."
Staring at the "ON SALE!!" sticker on the back of the box, Dazai breaks into a soft smile.
Maybe, if Chuuya would allow him, he'd stay the night.
-end-
---------------
ugh that ending felt so rushed but honestly i feel like it fits them, since i think that initally, caretaking would be really awkward for them.
Notes: thank you so much for reading, and i hope its alright that i branch out of j/jk since, well, everyones fucking dead (/j) but moreso because i fell in love with characters from other fandoms too <3
Summary: basically c/huuya gets sick and d/azai takes care of him, very cliche
Ship: s/kk
Notes: my first b/sd fic. honestly i never intended to write one, but here we are. This fic was drafted Sept 21 2023 and wow that's been awhile huh.
They might be a little ooc here since i'm trying my hand at their characterisation for the first time. Apologies in advance for any mistakes!
also i figured ild add this in here but this fic is sickfic>snzfic so there isnt much of that kinda stuff here
Word count: 4.5k
------------------------------------------------
"Chuuya, rest."
The red markings on Chuuya's arm slowly disappeared as he fell to the floor in a soft grunt. Letting go of his arm down in an action of indifference, Dazai stepped over his sprawled out body.
"Took you long enough, honestly. It was almost like you were taking your own sweet time, don't want me to touch you that badly?"
When he was met with no response, Dazai sighed dramatically.
"Chibi? Oi, are you dead? You're not allowed to go before me, you know that. Oi!"
He turns back, this time with an eyebrow raised at the unmoving Chuuya-lump on the floor. Seriously? He would've expected the slug to reply with a "I'll kill you first" or a punch of sorts.
Chuuya was never quite as energetic after using Corruption, but this silence was new.
And so Dazai does the next most logical thing, which was to kick him with the edge of his shoe, once, twice, thrice- Alright, something was wrong.
Doing a quick check of his surroundings for any passersby (god forbid anyone from the Port Mafia or the ADA see what he was about to do next), Dazai knelt down next to Chuuya's body, flipping him onto his back.
"Oi Chibi!"
When he was met with no response, Dazai seriously considered leaving Chuuya in the middle of what used to be the battlefield. Surely someone would find him eventually, right?
It was how it always was, how it always has been.
Though.. there was no one in their vicinity at the moment, and it won't hurt to check Chuuya's vitals, to make sure the idiot didn't actually die on him.
Two fingers were swiftly placed under Chuuya's chin, and- Fever. Dazai was fairly sure that he felt fever under his fingers.
There was a steady heartbeat too, so that was good at least.
But a fever? Surely he was imagining it. Yes, Chuuya tended to run a little hot, both in his temperature and in his temper (although most of the time it was directed at Dazai himself), but there was no mistaking the heat that he was radiating.
This time, the pair of bandaged hands reached for Chuuya's shoulders, giving him a couple shakes, which proved successful as he heard the other below him let out a soft groan.
"..D'zai?"
"Why didn't you say anything?"
Immediately knowing what Dazai was referring to, Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows into a frown. "Idiot, it's none of your concern. Just take me back home."
Dazai opened his mouth to complain, but stopped when he saw Chuuya's eyes slide back shut. Seriously? Seriously. It was not the first time Chuuya had made a similar request, and it would also not be the first time if Dazai just walked off into the distance, leaving him there alone.
Despite that, Dazai always made sure that Chuuya was okay before he abandoned the other. Did this count as 'okay'?
And so,
"You owe me one.." Dazai caved, reaching out to lift Chuuya onto his back. He considered for a second just grabbing Chuuya by his ankles, dragging him home that way. Admittedly, Dazai did almost do that, if not for the time limit they had before someone would eventually arrive at the scene.
So draped over his back it was. Chuuya's apartment wasn't far, he could make it.
Gathering the fallen coat and hat (regrettably, Dazai did indeed resign and picked it up), he disappeared behind the trees.
====================================
The journey back was eerily silent. Given the relationship between the two, it was a surprise. No bickering, no fighting, just the steady but heavy sound of footsteps coming from Dazai.
He could hear, could feel Chuuya breathing behind him, but worry still found its way into his head. Not that that was important or anything.
Dazai whined. "You're really heavy you know.."
(Talk to me, say something snarky back.)
Dazai attempted a weak insult. "Never been this high off the floor before huh? It's a whole new view from way up here."
(Open your eyes, please.)
He felt stupid talking to himself.
==================================
Chuuya's front door. He hasn't been here in a long while, and it definitely was not the first time he came uninvited. But this didn't count, did it? Chuuya had asked him to bring him home.
Key. Just focus on getting the door open.
Lowering himself to the ground, Dazai propped Chuuya's body up against the door. Now, where would Chibi put his key..
When both coat pockets came up empty, Dazai eyed Chuuya's unconscious body. Should he try searching for the keys on him?
Then, he remembered a moment they shared together, one where they had headed to Chuuya's place after a mission years ago, when Dazai was still in the Port Mafia.
They had gotten thrown around quite a bit that day, and as fun as it was, Chuuya's key seemed to have been shaken right out of his pocket. Exhausted, they had fallen asleep right by the steps leading up to the door, seemingly forgetting that Chuuya could have blasted through the window if he really wanted to.
Dazai dropped the coat on Chuuya's lap, turning to the pots of plants outside the house. Seriously? He was surprised the plants were even still alive.
As obvious at that spot would have been, Dazai found the key he was looking for under a pot of cacti. He unlocked the door, hauling Chuuya's body in with him.
The living room was a familiar sight. The couch was in the same position, and so was the dining table. It was as if all those years had never passed.
Dazai looked at the body sprawled across the floor.
So what now? Should he leave? Chuuya hadn't asked him to do anything else, not that he would have complied anyway.
..He would probably be much more comfortable lying on the couch. Yeah, he could do that.
Dazai looked at the body sprawled across the couch.
So what now? Why wasn't he moving to leave? Chuuya probably didn't want to open his eyes only for Dazai to be the first thing he sees.
..That thought alone almost made him sit down and wait for Chuuya to wake up.
However, a small whine dragged Dazai out of his scheming. When he looked down, there was a pained expression on Chuuya's face. Even in the dimmed lights, Dazai could partially make out the feverish flush on the other's cheeks.
..He could wet a towel for Chuuya. Yeah, he could do that.
And so Dazai stands up, making his way to bathroom. Just being in the room brought back a few memories. All the times that he would sit, propped up against the sink as they tended to each other's wounds after a mission.
Dazai pulls open one of the cupboards below the sink in search for a towel, and that's when he freezes.
All the way to the back of the compartment, there was a small stack of bandages, the same ones that Dazai liked to use. But why? Chuuya rarely got injured, and if he did, like heck he was using those bandages. Knowing him, Chuuya would probably just walk it off.
Maybe he just didn't want to throw away the leftovers. Yeah, that was it.
He found a towel after that. Wetting and wringing it, Dazai stepped back into the living room. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Chuuya's open bedroom door.
A peek inside would never hurt, right?
Making a slight detour, Dazai popped his head into the doorway. Surprisingly (or maybe not), everything looked pretty much the same. The bed was still haphazardly made in a sort of neat, Chuuya way.
A stray hat sat in the center of his desk. Dazai couldn't contain his eye roll.
He approached the table, his eye catching onto a dull shine of metal. It was a tablet tray of pills. He flipped it over. Paracetamol. And it was half empty.
So the fever wasn't a recent thing.
===================================
He hoped the wet towel would help.
Chuuya never fell sick often, and when he did, he was rather augmentative and closed off. To Dazai, that was Chuuya just being Chuuya, so he never treated the other differently in those moments, not that they happened often enough for him to act any other way.
So this was new. It wasn't an unpleasant type of new, just a little awkward. It was never quiet when Chuuya was around, unless they were sleeping, and Dazai was wide awake.
Maybe he should busy himself with cooking something. Cook. For Chuuya.
..What where they? Married? Dazai felt his tongue stick out at the thought. But still, he got up and headed for the kitchen.
Maybe he should try poisoning Chuuya's portion. That would be fun to watch. Unfortunately, he didn't have any vials on him at the moment.
Even better, he could pretend that he did something to the food.
That thought alone gave Dazai the motivation to look through the fridge. In the main compartment, all he found was alcohol. The second eye roll of the day ghosted his face. Chuuya was a lightweight after all.
Moving to the vegetables drawer, he was pleasantly surprised to see it filled. He never took Chuuya as someone who knew how to cook. Dazai himself normally ate at the cafe downstairs with the rest of the agency.
Though.. on the off-chance that someone would cook for the whole office, those meals always felt a little more homey.
Picking a variety of vegetables, Dazai turned towards the kitchen, sliding the door shut behind him.
========================================
It was at that moment that Chuuya decided to wake up. He knew he was at home, on his couch? What happened?
Fuck. His head hurt. His limbs hurt. There was something pressing his head down. Lifting a heavy arm, Chuuya reached for the item on his forehead.
A damp cloth?
That idiot Dazai probably put it there. Sleeping gas? It made sense, since he was knocked out for so long..
Or at least it felt long; with how sore his neck was feeling from lying flat on his back. Couldn't the bandaged disaster at least be considerate enough to put a pillow under his head?
..Come to think of it, Dazai did carry him home, which was a far cry from what he normally did to begin with. Whatever, he'd let it slide.
"..snff-"
"..hH'!! hAH'gGnshH-w!! G'nNEsHH!!"
So that's what he would have to deal with for a few days, huh. He had really thought it had been nothing more than a slight fever.
Maybe using Corruption had made it worse.
"..hiH'!! hH- hhH'!! h'ERrshH!"
When he sniffled into the back of his palm, Chuuya found that he could hardly get any air through. This sucked.
A shower might help.
=====================================
In the closed kitchen, Dazai barely heard Chuuya's movements as he reached for a knife. Staring at it, he pondered for a moment if he should just-
No. Chuuya would kill him if the white counter was stained with his blood. It would give the shorty a good scare, but his fun could wait.
While it wasn't his first time chopping vegetables, it certainly had been awhile. Still, the carrrots, potatoes and corn were all sliced up in minutes. He didn't brag about his dexterous fingers for nothing.
And if the knife came too close to his fingers too many times, no it didn't.
Throwing all the ingredients into the simmering pot, Dazai poured in some chicken stock. He didn't know how much was the recommended amount, so half the carton would have to do.
Besides, there was no way he'd even look at the instructions behind. He was already cooking for the chibi, he didn't want to have to read for him too.
Dazai stared at the stove.
..What now?
---
The moment Chuuya stripped off his clothes, he had to grab the edge of the sink as he was hit by a dizzy spell. Fair, he did get up from the couch rather abruptly. He hadn't eaten since the morning either.
He was shivering, despite the buckets of sweat he produced in the recent battle.
Chuuya hated falling sick, hated the weakness and vulnerability that came with it. He was supposed to be the one who people depended on. How could he protect anyone when he could barely even stand straight?
Without his strength there was little use for him.
"..hH'!! H'gKsHHew! heH'DzzchH!!"
And there was that too.. but at least this part of his forming cold proved that he was human. The inability of controlling his sneezes.
In any case, he should get into the shower quickly before his thoughts got the better of him.
Scalding hot water.
==================================
Surely the pot should not be boiling that heavily. Dazai stared at it, wondering how the surface would feel under his fingers should he touch it. The fleeting thought brought a smile to his face.
A rather rough bunch of bubbles almost caused the lid to fly off entirely. He should probably turn the fire down.
A gentle, warm aroma slowly filled the kitchen. Dazai estimated that it would be ready in a couple tens of minutes.
Perfect, he could use that time to-
The kitchen door slides open.
..To check on-
"Chuuya?"
The couch was empty. Did someone break into the house to steal him? Dazai didn't remember locking the door. Chuuya was really compact and pocket-sized too, but who would want to kidnap that feisty thing?
So of course, he deduced that Chuuya probably moved himself somewhere else.
"Chibi?"
Dazai stepped into the hallway, his gaze casting down upon the trail of water leading from the bathroom to is bedroom.
Seriously, did Chuuya not know that towels exist? Someone could slip and fall and die here! Someone like Dazai himself!
Playing with the possibility of such a humorous death, Dazai followed the trail to the room, poking his head into the doorway for the second time that day.
With the ends of his feet barely touching the edge of the bed, Chuuya laid in the center, neck tilted back on the pillow, snoring softly.
It was a familiar sight, Dazai noticed himself staring. The bed was once big enough for the two of them.
Not now, of course, Dazai muses. Even if Chuuya hadn't grown an inch, he sure did. There was no way they'd fit on the mattress together now.
..Not that he wanted to or anything. No, definitely not.
Chuuya's hair was still damp, and there was a strained expression on his sleeping face. Moving by himself, Dazai reached for the neatly folded blanket by the foot of the bed.
=====================================
1hr later:
Chuuya woke with the edge of his blanket pressed under his nose. He didn't remember pulling it up. After he took a shower, his body was too exhausted to do anything but collapse facedown into the pillows
Or.. maybe he had done that. Chuuya lived alone, there was no way someone else had done it instead.
"..hIH'NgtxchhH!! haH'gtcHH-w!" That being said, it was still way too cold even with the blanket covering him.
He rubbed the back of his fist against his nose roughly before tossing around in bed, annoyed.
Everything felt too stuffy, too hot. He was hungry too. Maybe some takeout would be good for today.
Chuuya stretched out a tired hand, groping around for his phone. Finding nothing, he sighed, faintly remembering that his coat was still outside on the floor somewhere.
"..hih'hA-Ngxt!!"
Guess he won't be getting any food today, then. Chuuya prided himself as a strong, capable man, but when it came down to times like these, he was willing to be weak.
As long as he was alone.
=======================================
Dazai looks up towards the bedroom, eyes flickering between the television screen and the hallway.
Despite himself, he was still at Chuuya's apartment, nevermind that an entire hour has passed.
Instead of wandering around, Dazai chooses to set up the gaming station below the television. He and Chuuya used to go on at it for hours against each other.
"Take this!"
"Not so fast, Chuuya. You think you can beat me that easily??"
There was a layer of dust sitting on top of console, showing obvious signs of disuse. His old controller was laid against it next to Chuuya's, the plastic worn down and peeling.
Lost in his daydream, Dazai barely manages to catch the smell of ready-soup coming from the kitchen. Now to get a couple bowls.
Transferring the soup into them should have been an easy task, if Dazai had remembered that heat existed. Well, excuse him for trying to pick up the pot with his bare hands and pouring it into the bowl, it's not like he cooked on a regular basis, or knew that there was a special spoon for such occasions known as the ladle.
Whatever the case, it took all but a few minutes to find a tray, put the bowls on it, and walk out of the kitchen.
==================================
Maybe he should have sucked it up and went to get his phone, Chuuya thinks and he stares at the ceiling. His stomach was screaming at him to fill it up with something, anything.
He stares at the stain next to the lightbulb and scowls. Years ago, the bulb and blown a fuse and needed repairing. But like hell Chuuya was going to put the stepladder on his bed, even if he was too short to reach it otherwise.
Thankfully, Dazai had shown up like a Saint at the time and fixed it for him, not without leaving his mark, of course. Like a damn animal he marked the ceiling with a dusty handprint that Chuuya could never clean off.
His fever must be off the charts if its enough to make him recall anything that had to do with his ex-partner. If Chuuya had had the strength at that moment, he would've slapped himself silly. That being said, he could probably wrap a damp cloth around the end of a long pole and bring it up to the stain to-
"ChUuYA!!"
"oH FUCK!"
Jumping out of his skin high enough that maybe he didn't need that pole after all, Chuuya sits up in his bed. His pillow, the blanket, the chair, his hat, everything glowed red and was ready to be used as a weapon.
"DAZAI, WHAT THE FUCK?!"
"Aw Chuuyaa~ That's the kind of greeting I get even when I'm trying to do something nice? You're lucky I'm touching this tray, or it might've went up with all the other things and split all my hard work!!"
"Never mind the fucking tray! What are you doing here?"
Dazai opens his mouth, a tone of mockery already ready at the tip of his tongue, yet nothing came out. Chuuya was right, what was he doing here? How would he explain why he was carrying soup to Chuuya in bed without the other thinking he had lost his mind?
Come to think of it, he didn't even know himself why he was doing this.
Chuuya stares at the Dazai in his room. Seriously, what was he thinking? Coming over uninvited like that, especially knowing the state he was in right now. There was no way this was a planned move to take him out at his weakest. As shitty as Dazai was, Chuuya knew at the back of his mind that the other would never harm him intentionally without the confidence that he won't die from it.
So that only left one explanation, one that Chuuya refused to even entertain - that Dazai was actually trying to take care of him. He almost laughs at the thought.
And he might've, if this was another day in which he wasn't hazed in fever. Plus the silence was getting awkward, so Chuuya forced himself to say something.
"..I'm not interested in your answer anyway. So are you coming in or not? You're being an eyesore just standing in the middle of my room."
"A tall eyesore?" Dazai chirped back, his behavior instantly returning to normal once he was in his element, (that being in a state in which he endlessly makes fun of Chuuya).
"Yeah yeah, a tall eyesore that he trying to poison me. Is this the Agency's masterplan after all? Poison?"
"Me?!" Dazai dramatically puts his hand on his forehead. "Poisoning you?? Before I use the poison on myself to end my own miserable life? Oh ChuUya, you should know me better than that!"
"Whatever. Just give it to me." Chuuya rolls his eyes, snatching a bowl over and eyeing it suspiciously. "You went through all the trouble of buying takeout?"
"Of course not! Why would I ever do so much for a slug like you?"
"So then you cooked for me." It was phrased more like a statement than a question, and for the second time that night, Dazai didn't know what to say.
"The uh- the knife. It looked tempting."
"Uh-huh. Bet it sure was difficult to keep all 10 of your fingers intact."
"You know me so well!"
"..Right." With the conversation not going any further, Chuuya picks up the spoon, stirring the liquid gently. It smelt good, and the steam coming from the bowl really helped to loosen up the congestion in his nose.
Which was good, but also bad timing, as Chuuya was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to sneeze. Hitching ever so slightly, he turns to face the wall, using his skill to control the gravity of the mucus such that it wouldn't irritate his nose even more as it threatened to drip out.
The last thing he wanted was to give Dazai something else to make fun of him for.
It was silent for a moment as Chuuya lifts the spoon to his lips.
"..."
"What?"
"..."
"I swear I did not poison the soup."
"No- it's not that. The soup.. it tastes.. good."
Dazai stares at Chuuya as if he'd grown an extra head. "..Chibi's lying!"
"I'm not, you idiot. Sigh, why do I even try?"
Before Chuuya could even shake his head in exasperation, a flash of brown jumps his soup.
"What are you doi-!?"
Dazai grabs onto Chuuya's arm, somehow managing to miraculously not spill a drop as he grabs onto the spoon to try a sip.
This is bad. Bells rang in Chuuya's head as he felt his skill get nullified by Dazai's.
"M-hH!!" Move! He wanted to scream, would have, if the tickle in his nose wasn't this extreme.
Well, the suicide maniac asked for it anyway.
"Hh'! HNNgxt! ..hA'DzzchH!!" Chuuya gasps, pressing a wrist tightly against his nose. "hIH' gZZtchH!!"
"Chuuya is so rough with himself!"
"Don't talk like you're not the one who c'hh!-caused this!"
"Really," Dazai started, brushing a bit of his arm that had been in the crossfire of the spray upon his pants. "If anything Chibi's the one who caused this onto himself."
"Hah? The fuck did you say?"
"Now now-" Dazai places his index finger directly between Chuuya's furrowed eyebrows. "I'm not the one who decided to use corruption through a fever and then pass out in front of everyone."
Chuuya clenches his teeth, swatting the other's arm away. "Don't talk like you don't make shitty decisions all the time, suicide-obsessed mackerel."
"Slug."
"Why do you even care anyway?!" the porcelain bowl cracks under his grip. "You never had before so don't act like you do now."
Dazai opened his mouth to answer with a witty remark, but nothing came out. This outburst was different from the rest that Chuuya normally gave him. Insults, he could handle, but this? What was he supposed to say to that?
'Yeah I don't care about you?' 'No I do care about you?' One was a lie and one made him sound like a bottom.
Chuuya just stared at the bowl in his hand, watching as the soup drip, drip, dripped down his forearm. He knows what he said wasn't true, the fact that Dazai stayed was evidence enough.
Fucking fever, always making him say the wrong sh-
"I'm sorry."
The fuck? Chuuya snaps his head upwards, looking at Dazai from between the strands of hair that had fallen over his face. He scanned the other's expression, expecting something akin to a smirk. But there was none.
"I mean- Well! I'll leave Chibi to his tacky hats then." Dazai suddenly says, his voice lively yet strained. He reaches for the stray hat on the table, putting upon Chuuya's head and pulling the brim over his eyes.
Annoyed, Chuuya whips the damn thing off his head, prepared to shove it into Dazai's chest. But by the time he looks back at the other, all that could be seen was the tips of Dazai's coat-tails rounding out of his bedroom door.
"Hey wai-" Tears shot to Chuuya's eyes as he choked on air. With one leg on the floor and the other still nestled under the covers, he bent over coughing violently as his lungs struggled to comprehend what the fuck just happened.
His throat was burning. There was no way he could catch up to Dazai now.
-
After what seemed like forever, Chuuya's lungs finally decided to restart, allowing him to breathe in his first huge breath of air. Through blurry eyes, he barely managed to focus on the mess of beige in front of him.
"Chibi's so small he choked on air molecules?"
"Ah fuck you," Chuuya mumbled. He grabbed the glass of water Dazai held out for him, purposely avoiding eye-contact to prevent the other from noticing his shock and gratitude.
"You're welcome~ aand, you should probably put that down," referring to the bowl of soup that was barely holding itself together.
'Right." Chuuya placed it upon the tray. "Well," this was awkward. Just 2 minutes ago they were at each other's throats, and now they were.. staring at the ground in silence. "..I should, wash these. Plus you probably wrecked the kitchen, so I'll- yeah."
"Chuuya- are you sure you should-" Dazai started, then stopped.
Curse being partners for years, Chuuya knew what he meant even before he started. "It's just a cold, idiot. I'll be fine washing dishes. Stop cari- ahem. You look like shit, go shower or something."
When he got no reply, Chuuya continued. "There's bandages below the sink you can use, and- well. There's a set of clothes your size somewhere in my cupboard."
And this, snaps Dazai out of his silent trance. "So ChuuUya was planning a sleepover behind my back?"
"It was for emergencies, dammit! If you ever needed somewhere safe to stay, or something." Leaving it as that, Chuuya briskly walks out of the room, leaving Dazai to his own thoughts.
-
The bandages, Dazai later notices, were manufactured a mere 2 years ago, right when he had joined the Detective Agency, back when Chuuya had no way of knowing if he was alive or not.
But he still thought about me. Still bought them with a chance that I would use them someday.
"You even got my favourite brand, Chibi."
Staring at the "ON SALE!!" sticker on the back of the box, Dazai breaks into a soft smile.
Maybe, if Chuuya would allow him, he'd stay the night.
-end-
---------------
ugh that ending felt so rushed but honestly i feel like it fits them, since i think that initally, caretaking would be really awkward for them.
Notes: thank you so much for reading, and i hope its alright that i branch out of j/jk since, well, everyones fucking dead (/j) but moreso because i fell in love with characters from other fandoms too <3
g/ojo who has such a sensitive photic reflex that all he can manage are desperate, tickly half-snzes that come so rapidly they hardly bring him any relief despite the urgent burning in his sinuses. he has to pinch his nostrils shut in an attempt to catch his breath between the helpless fits and gasp in enough air for a deeper and more satisfying release
A person who has a different sounding snz for different afflictions (allergies, morning sinus, photic snz, cold snz, ect) and their partner who can tell them apart bc they have the kink (but imagine they don't know that they do!!)
Cue one night when they're cuddled up. A snz, maybe two, three.
A: "snff-!! sigh, i think im coming down with something.."
B: "Nah you're not, just allergies."
A: "Really?"
B: "Yeah your cold snezes are harsher, this one is just wet and itchy."
Thinking about like, a newly established couple where one person really loves receiving flowers and the other half is deadly allergic to pollen.
The allergic one keeps it a secret and continues to buy flowers for their partner as a gift, feeling all warm inside as they see their entire face light up, praying that the medication wears off as slowly as possible.
(Perhaps they even purposely expose themselves to flowers occasionally to *condition* themselves)
That is, until the allergic one goes over to their partner's house and oh. oh.. my god.
The house is FILLED with the flowers they bought the other, all in fancy looking vases.
"Look! I displayes allll the lovelies you bought me!"
And guess what, they left their allergy medicine at home.
Currently fawning over the idea of an otherwise confident, brash, dom-vibey person — who’s one weak point is their secret sneeze kink. Like, as much as they are down for anything, this is the one thing they’re uncharacteristically super shy about. .. and when it comes to the bedroom, it’s the only thing that’ll completely flip their switch, rendering them into a subby puddle of neediness.
Imagine their partner’s shock when they first started coming out, the usual Mr./Mrs.-aint-afraid-to-speak-their-mind is downright beet red and tripping over their words when they reveal that they have a… thing for sneezes??
And imagine the sheer mindbend when their usual i’m gonna do you silly and there’s nothing you can do about it~ routine, crumbles to the fucking ground as soon as the partner lets out a passing stifle. Eyes once piercing and focused now shifty and wide with further anticipation.
Of course the partner knows not to push their luck, knowing how they’ll be punished~ later, but they learn to savour the little moments of bashfulness they can induce with this newfound discovery~
i love the sneezing fits that escalate in volume and intensity at a completely balanced rate. it may as well be a strip tease. like it goes from:
silent stifle -> audible but contained stifle -> stifle with vocal start or release -> half-stifle -> tightly muffled -> normal sneeze -> normal sneeze but louder -> emphatic sneeze (or a few!) -> exhausted sneeze (because all of the initial stifling was a mistake)
honorable mention to skipping a stage or having multiples of any stage <3 but just seeing the process of someone's body demanding control over them until they're forced to relinquish and show their true self
