Chapter Text
“Oi dickhead, did you move my stuff again?”
“ I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about .”
He could see the shit-eating grin on the other end of the phone. He gritted his teeth. “Not in the fucking mood, mackerel. Where’s my bag? I know it was here, so don’t even try it.”
“ This it? ” The telltale sounds of a bag being shaken travelled down the phone. “ Chibi left it at the gym.”
“The fuck were you doing in the gym?”
“ Don’t sound so offended, you can keep your sweaty, stinky safe space,” the grimace evident in his voice. “ Mori-san wanted us for a mission so I had to trek all over to find the hatrack. I figured he’d be in the gym, admiring himself in a mirror like the conceited slug he is, but alas I couldn’t find you, only your bag in your locker. ”
“Stay out of my locker, jackass,” he mumbled, the memory of leaving it in there coming to him. He could usually work away all his nervous energy, getting a pick-me-up from a good workout, but he’d left halfway through and picked up a wine bottle as soon as he’d gotten back to the apartment. He stared at the appalling puddle on the rug. He hated that fucking rug. “What’d Mori want?”
“ Well, he was gonna send us on a mission, but I didn’t want to go, so I convinced him to give it to someone else .”
“Let me guess, you blamed me for it.”
“ Naturally. ”
He sighed, stepping over the threshold of the bedroom and collapsing onto the mattress. He dropped the phone next to his head, not caring if his words were muffled on Dazai’s end. “At least tell me what you said so I can have an answer prepared.”
There was silence, usually welcome when it came to the bandaged asshole, but it was enough for Chuuya to feel self-conscious. It was a disgusting feeling, something he’d been feeling for weeks now. Uncomfortable, unsettling, and downright dangerous on missions. At least he could let loose for a while every now and then, forget about what was plaguing him.
But in his apartment, boarded in by walls and concrete, there was no real distraction.
“Shitty Dazai, oi.”
A hum from the other end.
“What’re you scheming?”
“ Hmm ?”
“Why’d ya go quiet?”
“Are you concerned ?”
A grunt, turning onto his side to stare pathetically at the wall. “Can you blame me? Who knows what’s going on in that batshit crazy head of yours.”
“ Nothing - (” pff yeah, no shit .”) - to concern- hey! Rude. Just for that, you have to get it back yourself. ”
“You were going to make me anyway,” he mumbled a string of colourful curses, not moving from his place on the bed. “I’ll drop by later.”
“ I’ll burn it, ” his partner sang.
“I’ll kill you, bastard.”
“ So unappealing .”
Half an hour later, Chuuya was still sinking further and further into his mattress, which was also around the time when he heard the telltale click of his door lock.
He already had the mental image of his partner skipping in, oversized coat sweeping behind him, stupid grin on his face and mischief in his eye. If he left Dazai to his own devices, his apartment would be left a mess and his wines replaced with vinegar.
Not fucking today.
He dragged himself up and slammed his bedroom door behind him, as if the asshole was going to see
“Dude-” , he took a deep breath. Kouyou had said Dazai would be the test of his patience and composure. “I was getting shit- I was just- why did you break in again ?”
“Chibi takes so long,” he whined. “So short, can’t even hear me from there. So annoying, such an annoying dog making me wait- you shouldn’t leave your master waiting, you know? I even had a treat planned!”
Fuck composure. He launched towards his partner, who allowed himself to be jumped. They missed the couch and crashed to the floor. Neither of them paid any mind to it though. Chuuya was glaring holes into him, wondering if Mori would mind his precious prodigy being a little messed up for their next mission. It was bad enough that he dealt with the bastard and his mockery any other day, but today? Not fucking today.
He could already hear it.
Dumb chibi, all alone with no-one else on his birthday .
Stupid slug, no-one left to celebrate you.
…
Dumb fucking Chuuya, all alone, never enough to make someone stay.
A teasing voice drew him from his thoughts. “You’ll have to work for your treat, you know?”
“ Piss off, ” he growled. Dazai should’ve commented on how much like a dog he was really acting, and Chuuya honestly wouldn’t mind acting like a savage animal right now to get his point across.
“Best of 5?”
“I’m not messing around, Dazai. Get the fuck out.” He threw him against the ground once more for good measure and stood up, making his way to the kitchen to check his cupboards. It’d taken twenty seconds to decide and lay eyes on the mackerel after the lock was picked- twenty unsupervised seconds. They bastard definitely could’ve messed with something in that amount of time.
“Alright. Best of ten,” he had the nerve to sigh. “Only because it’s the hatrack’s birthday and we both know how shit you are at fighting games.”
He tensed, grabbing a knife in a split second and hurling it in the brunette’s direction. “ I’m shit? Me ?”
“Gonna prove me wrong, shorty?”
“ You’re fucking on. ”
–
He lost. Obviously. But they didn’t stop at ten. Obviously.
Sometime between when they started and now, bowls and packets of snacks had made their way to the couch. Small sabotages and distractions like verbal insults graduated to nudging and hitting each other as they played, resulting in most of the games being played shoulder to shoulder.
For a moment, it felt…normal. Maybe.
The moment wouldn’t last, though. Chuuya had every intention of playing more rounds after getting up for a short break. But when he looked over the living area, it struck him. How lonely did he have to be for Dazai of all people to be the one he spent his birthday with?
They saw each other way too often anyway, almost everyday. His presence was almost always hanging over him, whether it was in person or in the form of streams of annoying messages so his phone would buzz or vibrate every time one came through while doing paperwork. He’d complain and smack the dick upside the head, that stupid dazed look coming over the mackerel’s face only served to frustrate him further. But he never muted him.
( Just in case.)
He watched Dazai on his phone, probably aware of Chuuya’s stare but not reacting to it in the slightest. He was meant to be getting ready to meet the Flags, but he just sat and watched him for a little while.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“Fuck off.”
He didn’t admit to himself that seeing Dazai in his apartment, on his couch, reasonably relaxed, wasn’t the usual annoyance it was. The brunette didn’t do nice, and Chuuya was just using him to get through the day until he could be with his real friends.
“Why doesn’t the slug like his birthday?” Was the hushed question when the redhead drew closer.
“None of your fucking business,” Chuuya muttered, tucking himself into the corner of the couch. As if the brunette didn’t already know.
“But it is.”
His temper flared, tensing and mentally devising how he’d go about beating Dazai up most efficiently. “I’ll beat you into the ground, then we’ll see how you feel about it.”
The lack of response for the second time that day skyrocketed his anxiety. Why couldn’t people just say what they fucking meant? Why did everything have to be so damn cryptic all the time? And why today?
He opted to glare at Dazai, who was staring back already with a neutral gaze. That single eye was trained on him with the accuracy of a sniper. And perhaps intention, if their insults to each other were to be believed.
“Chuuya.”
“What?”
“Do you consider us partners?”
He almost choked. “The fuck do you mean by that?”
Usually the brunette would sigh loudly and comment on his slow, slug-like brain and dance around the subject, but this time, he spoke in a clear voice with no insult. “Partners care about the important things.”
He stared, then laughed, but the disgusted look that’d usually make an appearance was nowhere to be seen. “Just the important things, shitty mackerel? Pray tell, what do you consider important?”
“Well,” the brunette shifted, sitting up and looking at the game flashing on screen. “I know that Chuuya is trash at every videogame we play.”
There’s the insult. “Because you practise them in your free time, dick.”
“Like you don’t either,” he said without missing a beat. He ignored Chuuya’s grumbling about not having time because he was the only one doing paperwork and kept going. “I know that Chuuya doesn’t get hurt often, so he flaunts his ability like an overconfident schoolgirl.”
“Whatever,” he took out his phone and unlocked it angrily. He had half a mind to kick him out on his ass. He would’ve, if it hadn’t been today .
“I also know that Chuuya puts himself in the line of fire purposely quite often, not just because he’s a brutish Chibi. He’s also-“
“A very loyal dog. Are you done? I’m not in the mood.” The anger was there for sure, but it was ebbing away to something more subtle, something heavier. It was different this year. No Sheep, no freedom. All the money he could’ve hoped for a year ago but no one to take care of but himself.
He always said he didn’t understand Dazai. He didn’t understand that constant urge to walk off a ledge or drown and sink into a darker place, but momentarily? Yes. He understood. Very well.
Fucking mafia. For all it was giving him- he’d rather be ferreting away, trying to find food for the kids. Back when he didn’t need to think about being a threat, back when he had use for someone. Individuals, not an organisation.
Kouyou wouldn’t help. Nor Dazai or any subordinate he knew of. He didn’t need to think about being a threat when people wanted him. But they always wanted him for something, for power. Which was fine. He was wanted. It’s what he wanted, right?
“Chuuya is a very good partner.”
Chuuya’s head snapped to him. Not today. I can’t do this today.
Dazai continued without a glance. “Chuuya does the paperwork. Faces the enemies head on. Listens when it matters. Chuuya does a lot. Even I know that.”
‘Knowing’ it and ‘considering’ it is different. “Alright. Out. ”
“Chuuya suffers because he is loyal. I know that chibi hurts inside. I know that chibi doubts he’s human, regardless of my insistence. I know how chibi likes his tea, his coffee, his food. I know how he likes to fold things, how he packs his bags, how he strategises on the fly-“
“How is how I fold my clothes considered important? You’re not making any sense.”
“It’s important…” he paused, finally looking at Chuuya. Something of sincerity could be seen in his eye. “It’s important because you’re my partner. And…”
You’re important to me.
“And now I know that you struggle on your birthday. So naturally I’m here to annoy you.”
“That’s…” oddly thoughtful of you.
“I’m big enough to admit an oversight on my behalf. I should’ve known how today would be.” He perked up like a child with stars in his eyes. “So next year I’ll prank you to hell and back!”
Yes, that warranted an argument, warranted anger and at least four punches to the mackerel’s gut, but in a similar way that he ignored the reason Dazai had broken in to let himself be distracted, he let a familiar competitive streak overtake him and summon a smirk to his face. “But I get the head start.”
“As if a dumb Chibi could prank me without me knowing!”
If it meant anything that Dazai was caught by a few pranks weeks later on his own birthday, Chuuya didn’t think about it too hard.