Can I get 85 soukoku? Pls?
I got you, babe. Here you go.
85. “It’s not what it looks like!”
(Featuring Jealous!Dazai and hinted Tachuu because I am garbage.)
Sometimes, Tachihara got himself involved in things he really shouldn’t.
It was his fault - one hundred percent. He didn’t think things through all of the time, which typically lead to him jumping headfirst into a circumstance that he was not mentally or physically equipped to handle.
For example, when Chuuya decided to go out drinking, it was collectively decided that somebody was required to supervise him. Tachihara, who was usually picked on by his superiors, was elected to follow him. It didn’t take a whole lot of convincing, because it meant an unnamed number of hours alone with Nakahara Chuuya, who Tachihara looked up to a couple degrees more than what was deemed appropriate. So, he gladly volunteered for the mission.
Plus, he had to admit that the flush on Chuuya’s cheeks from the alcohol was weirdly adorable, and suited the redhead far more than he would have assumed.
This, however? This was not adorable.
“I’m going to call Dazai.” Chuuya said, pulling out his mobile, fumbling with the device for a few seconds.
“No!” Tachihara responded, and reached out to grab the phone from the executive’s hand. Despite being shorter, Chuuya managed to hold it out of reach, and even went so far as to climb up onto the dividing wall between the booths. The couple on the other side was alarmed to find a drunken - albeit very attractive - redhead suddenly invading on their private space, but at this point Chuuya didn’t notice or even consider caring.
“Hey!” Chuuya shouted into the phone. “Shitty Dazai! Come pick me up! I need your help!” Before the brunette could respond, he felt an arm wrap around his waist and drag him down into his seat.
“So sorry, folks!” Tachihara said, smiling winningly at the blonde woman and her boyfriend. They looked more sophisticated than the average club member, making this incident ten times worse. “He went a little healthy on the juice, if you know what I mean!”
Chuuya struggled against Tachihara, kicking and pounding his fists into the taller man’s arms, but to no avail. Tachihara shut the phone before any more interaction could occur.
“I need his help!” Chuuya whined, though Tachihara ignored him and proceeded to drag him from the bar, his hat held in his left, and both their phones in his right.
As they left the heated building, cold night air sweeping over both of them, Chuuya lowered his voice to a sultry tone and whispered in Tachihara’s ear, the hot exhale crawling over his cheeks. “Unless you know how to help, hmmm??”
Tachihara felt his face heat up, and he nearly dropped the man. Chuuya cackled loudly, and shoved his head away. “I’m just kidding Tachi-chan!”
Tachihara raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but still dragged him nonetheless. “Maybe save that for Dazai.”
Chuuya waved his hand. “Pfffft. Dazai is an asshole.” He pouted a little, “A pretty asshole, though.”
Tachihara’s worst nightmare had just come to life, he realized, as Osamu Dazai smiled wickedly at them, hands tucked into his pockets.
“Dazai-san!” Tachihara bowed his head, though he had no obligation to do so. But Dazai was terrifying.
“Assisting Chuuya, are we?” Dazai smiled, tipping his head to the side. Tachihara’s heart went cold.
“I-it’s not what it looks like!” Tachihara panicked, holding out a hand in terror. Dazai simply smiled, and grabbed his wrist.
“I’ll be taking our little Hat Rack home, alright?” His smile was charming and lovely, a flash of perfect white teeth. But it still sent a chill down his spine. His grip on his wrist was tight - too tight - and he let his hand go limp, dropping the phones.
Dazai managed to snatch up Chuuya’s but let Tachihara’s drop to the sidewalk, where it made an unpleasant crunching noise. “Thank you though. Just remember that I can always help, should the Port Mafia be too busy!” He grabbed Chuuya around the waist, pulling him to his side.
“Hat?” Dazai held out his hand. Chuuya was protesting, pummeling his fists into Dazai’s side, though his head rested comfortably on the man’s shoulder.
“Let me go, shitty little…” His words began slurring, though his fists did not let up.
Tachihara gave him the hat, his other hand shaking.
He watched the two leave, but the chill didn’t fade until he was back home, doors locked and all lights kept on just in case Dazai didn’t believe him when he said he wasn’t doing anything to Chuuya.
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