Sep 14, 2025
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Spain
seen from Malaysia
seen from Norway
Bang! Crack!
Chuuya closes his eyes and puts the pillow over his head. His muscles are sore after the violent mission, and in front of his eyes are still flashes of red, as fresh in his mind as if he is still fighting.
Crash!
The sound of a body hitting the wall startles Chuuya and he turns on another side with a muffled groan.
Crack!
The sound of broken bones rings in the dark room and Chuuya presses the pillow harder against his ear. He got used to the violence in the Mafia ages ago. And still, sometimes his mind feels just a bit too overwhelmed. He taps his phone screen and checks the time. In frustration, he flips the phone over and buries his face in the pillow.
Still about 12 more hours until the extraction crew picks them up from this shithole of a safehouse. He’s got to try and sl…
Creak! Bang! Crash!
Great, now he feels a headache coming on.
Crack!
“Will you fucking stop?” Chuuya yells at the ceiling - the bunk bed’s “ceiling” - and kicks the bed frame with his foot, adding to the cacophony and making the whole structure wobble dangerously.
“This bed is uncomfortable, Chuuya,” the familiar voice whines in response.
As if Chuuya gives a fuck.
He doesn’t respond and dives under the blanket. What’s up with this stupid bed arrangement, anyway? Making them sleep in a bunk bed after a mission like they are some snotty kids in a summer camp and not the Mafia’ most dangerous asset? Ridiculous.
At least he managed to get the bottom bunk. He was not going to climb the tiny ladder to the top one. Fucking embarrassing.
Crash! Crack! Bang!
The sounds seem to get even louder and Chuuya kicks the frame again.
“Stop making noise, I can’t sleep!”
“It’s not like I choose to make this noise, Chuuya,” Dazai hisses in response. “This is the bed’s fault, not mine.”
“Nothing is ever your fault.”
“I’m trying to get comfortable.”
“Creak!” the bead whines, as if agreeing with Dazai.
Unblinkingly, Chuuya stares at the top bunk, where he thinks mackerel’s head should be - maybe he’ll manage to bore a hole in his useless skull.
Crack!
I’ll crack his neck if he doesn’t stop, Chuuya thinks.
Bang!
With a groan, Chuuya jumps out of the bed. He’s just a bit too short to see the top bunk, so he floats, making sure to be just a bit higher up than his nuisance of a “partner”.
“I’ll help you get comfortable on the floor if you don’t stop fucking moving! I’m trying to sleep!”
Dazai lifts on his elbows and the bed creaks again. Chuuya knows he could send him tumbling down with just a slight touch of his finger - but he knows Dazai wouldn’t dare to now.
“You know,” Dazai says, unusually quiet, “I had a hard day, too.”
Metal screeches when Dazai sits up. He rubs his eyes and grits his teeth. His hands pick on the bandages on his wrists and with each slight move the bed whines in protest.
Finally, he looks at Chuuya…
…and he has to admit that Dazai does look fucking miserable.
Well, he always does. Except, this time it looks… Genuine? So unlike the Demon Prodigy attitude Chuuya’s so used to?
For once, Chuuya has no words to shoot at the bastard.
“I’m tired, Chuuya,” Dazai finally speaks. “Just let me be. Can’t do anything about this bed. Get over it.”
With that, Dazai collapses on his bed with another CRACK! and quietly groans, burying his hands in his hair.
Chuuya doesn’t go down. Unmoving, he floats above Dazai, looking at the second half of Double Black.
“Come down,” he blurts out.
“I’m not sleeping on the floor.”
“Fuck the floor. The bottom bunk.”
“Last I checked, it was occupied by an aggressive chihuahua.”
Chuuya clicks his tongue. Anger rises in him, but no matter how much he thinks he wants to, he can’t bring himself to show Dazai his place.
It’s hard to find words.
He’s not used to it.
“Just go down,” Chuuya croaks, hypnotised by the tremble in Dazai’s clenched fists. “I can’t sleep when your bed creaks like this. Ain’t doing it for your sake.”
The staring contest seems to last centuries.
The last embers of anger turn into barely warm charcoal the longer Chuuya looks at the fatigued face of the boy on the top bunk. Something else, the feeling he never felt toward Dazai – compassion – alights instead and Chuuya wants this eerily foreign feeling to keep warming him.
“Just come down,” Chuuya repeats quietly. He is stubborn. And Dazai knows it like no one else.
“Okay,” Dazai finally bleats.
He gets up, each of his moves marked by a deafening screech of the metal bed frame. When he climbs down, he freezes in front of the bottom bunk.
The blanket and the bed linens are crumpled and he can see the Chuuya-shaped dent in the old mattress. His fatigue is calling him to climb in, and at the same time he feels like he has no right to it.
“Do you need some kind of written invitation or what?” Chuuya snarls. He lands on the floor and pushes Dazai’s back. “Get your ass in the bed.”
Dazai shakes his head but says nothing. Silently, he climbs in and Chuuya follows - it’s pretty cramped now but at least, it’s finally quiet. He covers them both with the blanket and shifts awkwardly.
Fuck. In hindsight, it wasn’t such a great idea. Where does he put his arms now? And fuck, his legs are touching Dazai’s and it’s just weird. And he’s too close, and too warm, and weirdly alive - he wouldn’t expect this kind of warmth coming from the dead mackerel.
He tries turning. Turning again. Sticking his foot from under the blanket.
Nothing works.
Until… Chuuya gives up and puts his hand on Dazai’s waist. He tenses under the touch that used to bring pain, but relaxes when nothing angry follows.
It feels… just alright.
Almost like it is the way it should be. And finally, it’s quiet, even when Dazai shifts a bit to fit Chuuya’s mold better, and the only sound disturbing the silence is the rapid beating of Chuuya’s heart, and even then… it doesn’t bother him for some reason.
Dazai falls asleep first and Chuuya holds his breath listening to the steady breathing of his partner - peaceful, calm, trusting. And he thinks, basking in Dazai’s warmth, that he might want to try and cherish this unexpected kind of trust a bit more.
Chuuya closes his eyes.
He will file a complaint to Mori-san tomorrow. The Mafia should really take better care of its safe houses.
But now? He can finally sleep.
This shitty bed is quite alright.
Heya 👋
Hope you are having a might fine time. If not hopefully, you soon will.
Anyways, I've gotta ask something. Like- Pmzai always had one eye covered, right. So, how would Chuuya know if Dazai is just blinking or did he just wink? what do you think?
Heyyyy~
I am having a lovely morning so far, thank you for asking! I hope you are, too!
Also. BANGER question. Gave me lots to think about! I’ll answer in two parts. Short answer is that he WOULDNT know at first, and I can imagine 15!Dazai using this to annoy him to no end. I imagine it going something like:
teen dazai burning down a house party in a fit of jealousy fulled rage because he saw someone put their hand on chuuya’s back
hc pm!skk where they got in trouble for arguing during executive meetings so instead of verbally talking to each other, they both learn morse code and communicate (read: bicker) through tapping...the only thing is sometimes Chuuya gets heated and accidentally cracks the table with his finger
just imagining Kouyou being so proud that Dazai and Chuuya are quiet and seem to be behaving for once and just as she's finishing that thought, all she hears is a loud tap and a large crack splits down the table and she’s like. sigh